THE SHOW GIRL.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVI, Issue 13948, 2 January 1909, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE SHOW GIRL.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT,

BY MAX PEMBERTON.

Author of "The Iron Pirate. "Red Mom,"

"A Puritan's Wife." "The Hundred Days," etc., etc.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

[The Reverend Arthur Warrington rebukes his wife, Martha Warrington, upon a trivial account.]

The Red Farm, Beldon, Suffolk.

Sunday within the Octave of All Saints. Dear Martha, —Your continued stay with my cousins at Cambridge does not seem a great compliment to your husband. John is a very estimable man, it is true; but I ask you if it is discreet or prudent that a clergyman's wife should associate with one who is not ashamed to attend the horse races at Newmarket, and has declared from a public platform that, the Anti-Field Sports' League is a society of charlatans.

I had expected you to return and tell me more of this dreadful affair in which our cousin Henry is implicated. Is it kind to protract my anxieties? If it indeed be true that his unhappy wife has fled, then I think that the future need give us little anxiety. I say, God forbid that any harm should have overtaken the poor creature; but the human destinies are not in our hands, and we must humbly bow to them. To-day I wrote to Mr. Fogg, suggesting that we had some right to an inventory of the property. The great house at Fawlands, now let to Lord Lesborough, contains priceless furniture bought by Henry's father, my uncle, and of this a valuation should be made. It is possible that by judicious economy and some practice of self-denial— which I shall invite your cordial help—we might be able to live there ourselves when the present tenancy is terminated. But I shall permit no world- ! ly ambitions to hamper my sacred calling, and in this course I must be guided by the bishop. There is a see to be founded presently at Bury St. Edmunds, and there should be four residentiary canonaries as a minimum. Here your brother's influence with the Lord Chancellor may help us, and I should not hesitate to give a series of dinners in London to promote so worthy an aim. After all, rich men owe something to society, to do their duty in that state into which they /were born; and we should be strangely forgetful of our privileges if we were merely to husband this money which the Lord lias put into our keeping. Would you not like to be a canon's wife, Martha? Remember that a deanery may lie beyond, or even a bishopric. I will not permit myself to think of those things. To-morrow I should have an answer from Mr. Fogg, and also-. I hope, a letter announcing your return. These sporting people, surely, are not fit companions for a clergyman's wife i—Your devoted husband, Arthur.

CHAPTER XXXIX. [We hear of Paddy 6'Connell in a letter to Martha Warrington at .Cambridge.] Dear Mrs. Warrington,—l am careful, you see, not to say "Martha," lest this letter should fall into your husband's hands— cess to him!—and he be making a fool of himself, as you say that he would. So it shall just 'be "Mre. Warrington," though laughing .up my sleeve I am all the time, and you the same, I do not doubt. '■•".""• Well, my dear, I am Living the blazes of a time in this wilderness of a place, and all for my friend's sake; though, God knows what use I am to him any more than, the policeman at the corner, who has many a good glass of my whisky, and would like many another. Harry says 'tie to Paris I am to go presently, though what for the old gentleman himself would be hard put to it to guess. The last news I have from him speaks of the dreadful things we read in the papers this morning. It would be clear that the little witch is gone from the people that have had charge of her, and that this wicked story of wrong and mystery is no clearer to us than ever it was. But so far as it goes, we must lie content with it; for I would no more doubt her than I would doubt my sister Clara, and whatever she has don© has been done for the —of that lam sure.

Did it never occur to you that this pretty child may have a history out'of the ordinary.'' It has ben in my mind since the first day of our meeting, and is. more in my mmd than ever to-day. Who was her father? but, more important to ask, what was her mother's name? Did you never hear tell of the airs and graces of her, the pretty ways that were strange m a showman's tent, and the - dignity which no man■ ever humbled? We may have lost, good manners in this twentieth century, Mrs. Warrington, but we haven't lost the good sense which tells us whether our fathers were gentlemen or villains, and this is an instinct we'll keep yet awhile. I say that Muni Gastonard is the daughter neither of a showman nor a peasant ™ '' "'J surmise is not correct, put Faddy 0 Connell down with the fools. To speak of things better understood. I don t wonder to hear that you were annoyed about the horse-racing. 'Ti 6 no consolation to have missed those same great races, the Ctesarewitch and the Cambridgeshire, and you so near to the course. Your cousin John evidently knows a good thing, and his win upoon the double event must have gladdened your heart. But I'm sorry to hear that he put a sovereign apiece on for you, and he, might well have made it a tenner. Man is a curious animal, and always niggardly about his own kills I shall tell Mr. John that same if ever'-1 meet him. —'■

Well, Martha, I miss the piquet we used to play on quiet afternoons, and that's a certainty This God-forsaken Hampstead puts pistols m my hands every evening and takes them out again when the sun shines in the morning. Just to think that tie ridiNg has begun in Ireland, and me, Paddy OLoniMll, doomed to a six shilling hack and a gallop *« far as vour arms can. reach Yesterday, in Harry's interest, I lunched with a newspaper man at the Savoy Hotel, and was much disappointed to find that he drank water. "'Tie a little gas one needs m politics, says. I, " and champagne's the etuff j but he would have none of it I should tell you that he has big notions of Harry s literary gifts, and wants some more letters out of him. I told him a story or two about the parish priest of Gkndulou<m who, when the bishop told him that 'golf was sending men to the devil fast, replied that he wondered at it, for they did it mostly on sloe gin. After this, he asked me 10 write a series of papers on " a humorist in the mountains of Ireland." But I declined immediately. " "fwould be over the heads of your people," says I, "and that's where all good Catholics should be in 'this life or the next." '

I expect to go to Paris to-morrow or the day after, and will write you when I get there. There is a parcel of books at 'the house, sent to you by your husband; but you don't seem to have opened them. Will I forward them on or give them to the heathen? Advise mo by return. And with kind regards, please find me, yours, as per last, Paddy O'Conneix.

PS.— was £i curate man got hold of me in Hampstead, and took me to a Christian Endeavour meeting. He persuaded me to put on the boxing gloves, and one of his flock gave me a precious black eye. 'Twas a Christian endeavour eurelv, and cost me a bandage. So I'm only seeing half of this letter, which you can tell your"husband if it should fall into his hands.

CHAPTER XL. [A brief note from Jules Farman in Paris to Henry Gaetonard at St. Germain.] (4 (bis), Rue du Quatre Septembre, November 8, 1905. Monsieur, — am very well able to understand your displeasure and regret- that it should have been incurred. Permit me to assure you that I have not deserved it. The circumstances of this unhappy case concern so many others, there are so many threads to this tangled skein that I crave your indulgence if all does not march as you would wish it. r You heard from me yesterday the el. come tidings both of madame's safety and of her content. When the moment comesand it is hourly expected— feel that you will be the first to acquit me of the decep-

tion which has been practised. Madame "j believes that you are on your way from England, and will arrive in Paris, it may be to-day, it may be to-morrow, When you are with her, I doubt not that you will readily understand both our desire for delay ~.'»* and her continued residence. This story, believe me, is put forward for the best of reasons—reasons, I repeat, which you can- ' $ not fail to approve. • j But something, monsieur, may be told by ; me in the meanwhile, and that I do not hesitate to write. It is now clear that 1 Madame Gastonard was placed as a child at '%m the Convent of the Sisters of the Sacred " i Heart at Feonville, near Orleans. A child- '] ish frolic carried her from the gardens of the old house to the woods upon the road, to Blois, where she fell into the evil hands of the murdered woman, Marie Bordon, and J was by her sold to the travelling showman, Gondre. So, passed from hand to hand, she becomes the servant of these rogues, |,| and is lucky to find a home at last with that honest man Cassadore. Her story until the moment of her entry into the <; Convent School will be told to you by 'J others, I trust, before many days are pass- • I ed. i I ha*ro directed, monsieur, that this message shall reach you at St. Germain, be- ■ lieving that your continued stay in that i town is both wise and convenient. In th« meantime, dear sir, be assured of the loyal service of, your devoted, Jr/LES Henry Faux an. J CHAPTER XLI. 1 [In which Henry Gastonard receives a sum* 1 mons from the Marquis de Saint Faur.] 1 Chateau of Bougiyal, 11 November 8, 1905. :^| Dear Mr. Gastonard,-—The obligation of silence which recent events have imposed ] j upon me is the more deserving of apology 4 as it is the less possible of explanation. " ?l:i May I beg of you to believe that all which 1 has been done, or contemplated, is such .is M would appeal to any man of honour, and ■/■ \ particularly to one who has shown :3SCh 'j gifts of prudence and self-restraint as you ; '. have done these latter days? -] The story of Madame Gastonard's infancy is not one which may be written circum- M stantially, even for you, monsieur. Bat tie . pages which are missing will be supplied Ly -J: your knowledge and experience of the world ■'-v. and of men, and will not be regretted oe- & cause of that knowledce. Great names are implicated, and particularly the name rf a ', noble woman, who has suffered much, and gj yet must suffer. I beg-you, in the name of }yfj womanhood, to bear this fact in mind from 'V'l the beginning. Hi For the rest, lam content that your ,j judgment shall decide what is to be told to ;/f?l the world and what concealed. , The rest is t'/l your —an inheritance of a destiny oac« decreed and irrevocable. f; Do me the honour, I beg of you, to come- j to the Chateau de Bougival without delay, :-| there to hear'from' Madame Gastonard's •] own lips both the story of these recent days -J as she alone may tell it, and that other j story, which will* be told for the first t.me -:J to any man. Yours, with cordial esteem, ~' .J] Gaspard de Saint FAFB;j^a^g

CHAPTER XLII.

[Paddy O'Connell hears that he may leave London, and is invited to take"'the first train to Paris.] ' V '.";.''':' 1 ; Chateau de Bougival, near Paris, . ' ', ■ ••; V . ~„ November 15, 1905. ■ Dear Paddy,— to pack that mon- ; i strous bag of yours, and to come to us im- '.. mediately. You will get a train from Paris i : to St. Germain, and I will send a motor i there to meet you. But be sure to .wire,' for MS mi says you are more -likely: to tend ; , your telegram from this ••' house than.-; from ; London. - ; . Oh, Paddy, Paddy— a day, what ; news, what happiness!, lam here iin this' old chateau, and Mimi is at my .feet while h I write to > you... We -have, betor'ej/us the great park of,.Bougival;;. there' is-warm sua- ■ shine though the month, (is November rthe trees are, bare and leafless, .-but .they show,, us the".shining,river, and it. sliall 'wpig our ;• message- to the;. friends who hive us." "For ; ; thirty-six hours I have hardly let Mimi" es-cape-.from my arms,'. but to-day she bids me write, to you ; as?.d I obey, even as she who %j watches me with such a story of love and : - gratitude in her childish eyes. [ ,*" I have found her—the dreadful days will > come no more; already we have learned tal believe that yesterday was not, ami'that,Vj. to-day is eternal. So much is to be toH im- : mediately; but of the rest your own per*. ceptioia shall tell you, and you alone, when : you come to Bougival. And you will, coma without delay. Trains shall oe,too%lt*t^^l lli ¥> you ; the, sea .shall provoke you,; -^i,>.i~~:~"'. w tions of man imprison those kindly thougnta ?1 you would speed to us. As you stood beside us in the hour.of darkness, so now "a: ill ; ; you stand with us in the light—the first and best and biggest-Hearted of bur friends. . : So, I repeat, let nothing prevent you, "but* come, for we weary for you. ~, . . ' It was on Wednesday afternoon that; I !;.; received a letter from the Marquis de Saint Faur inviting me to this place. There was 'f? little in it that would interest you beyond '"■ the invitation which it contained, and. you may imagine with what haste I set out? at its commands. Oh ( be sure, 1 had some dim perception of the truth, or I would nob V; have been content to; rest ■in * that ( lonely ;' hotel, as I did, and to suffer patiently +be ■•"* mysteries which crowded upon me: Mimi '■;. \* was well, I said," and had the best of'rea-s, ;■? sons for her silence. . > - , - ; -, ." *■* To-day I know it was the truth. : If you -:- ever come to understand, Paddyin which ' case you will be the one man in all Europe - who will share the great truth with me—• then your own shrewd common sense will ' have written the story for > you. My lips "1 are 'sealed; I am content that they should v be sealed. • For is not Mimi at my- feet v while I write, and may not I stoop to kiss her rosy cheeks when I will? -". I set out for Bougival on Wednesday night, then, and in 20 minutes was'at itsgates. ; To my inquiry whether the marquis owned the chateu, the people about'gave an evasive answer. ' Some seemed to think ithat he did ; others spoke of a foreign ten- ; ancy, chiefly by that beautiful but notorious ■ woman the Princess Helenc. of Ilidze, and her cousin the Duchess de B'ourg. Both - ■ 'these ladies had been with Saint Faur :rhttn I met him at the Ritz Hotel in Paris ami from all that gossip says, - it was no sur- ;,'; prise to me that one of them, lit any rat*, . ! should be found at Bougival." But of- this I had little time to speculate, for I tot out fo rthe chateu within half an hour of receiving the marquis' letter, and was at the f f gates exactly at seven o'clock on Wednesday, •-' evening./. < ; ''- '' I knew that it was seven o'clock, for itelU "1 chimed as my car raced up the long avenaa -1 from the lodge, and the great clock above the stables was still telling the hour when ' a butler opened the door to me and- invited -'■ me within. '■> That the servants 'expected ma •■ it was not possible to doubt. Neither -my. name nor my business was asked, , but lieing conducted directly into the great .hall of '. the chateau, .footmen relieved me of my wraps and ■ assured me . that ■' Monsieur la '•• - Marquis should at once be informed of my arrival. And so they left me in that stately place ; .:' and for the first time since ': the M letter came to me, I could ask myself the meaning, both of it and of this bewildering'; *I; sequel. Imagine a vast apartment, Paddy, domed . above and built almost entirely of marble. Ljj There were mosaics in gold for the frieze" .-# and paintings above, such paintings as Vex - - - net made for the ceilings of the Louvre ,< - but skilfully adapted to a vast and ornate i concavity. A wide staircase glowing with crimson carpet boasts five caryatides to bear )K its burdens. The chimney is a masterpiece by an unknown artist colossal structure - •'■ protruding centaurs far into the room and pillared with jasper and chalcedony. Above . there is a great picture of Turenne, the Turenne of the fables and the wars, mounted V? and riding as. a Marshal-General of France.-. Other portraits also of soldiers adorn' the " place, but there is ' one of the Empress^-* 1 Josephine, painted, I imagine, during -the stormy days of St.- Cloud, and cleverly reflective of that turbulent time, which is a masterpiece beyond all question.' As" to the iurniture. it is,sparse but very beautiful. I note a clock with the Graces which cculd not be bettered at Fontainebleaii:' A massive bureau is in the fines/,' style of that "' magnificent 80u.b.1 whom posterity has"imi- §jj tated and derided. A brief guinea savs 5$ that this apartment stands as an fiitrh?*n» II to a. house of princes. The' manner of.it, v the size of it, ; that indefinable which the ages ;create could 3iever mislead. I am in the house -of an aristocrat, and hi .has summoned me to find Mimi there. 1 ' .■; (To be continued daily.)" * S