THE GILLINGHAM RUBIES

Otago Witness, Issue 3101, 20 August 1913, Page 62

THE GILLINGHAM RUBIES

By EDGAR JEPSON, Author of “The Girl’s Head,” “The Passion of Romance,” “The Lady Noggs—Peeress,” “The Admirable Tinker,” etc., etc.

THE BTOITEIsIST.

(Published by Special Arrangement.]

[Copyright.]

CHAPTER XVII.—THE ATTEMPT ON THE RUBIES. HE moon was sinking behind the Castle, and the shadow of the central buildings fell half wSQnu|rtSw across the lawn, lint the entrance to the path through the deodora shrubbery was still in the full moonlight. Absalom sat with his eyes fixed on it, -staring into the darkness of the patn to catch the first glimpse of the approaching explorer, his every other faculty dulled by his intense concentration in the act of vision. That concentration accounted, probably, for his utter failure to hear the gentle opening of the door of the Blue Boom, the faint footfall of the figure that crossed it, the almost noiseless opening of the long windows. Twice or thrice his eyes had tricked him into seeing a dark figure stealing down the shadowed path; and he was still straining his eyes into its gloom when his heart leapt to his mouth at the sound of the grating of the machinery which moved the panel entrance to the secret room. He sprang to his feet, rushed lightly to the curtains between tbe two rooms and dashed through them. As he came into it he saw that the long windows stood open; and it flashed on him that Jasper Forbes had stolon up along the side of the Castle in the shadow; and as it flashed on him he dashed at tire figure in the dark corner, all his being strung up to the effort to get the maiming jiujitsu grip he had in mind on the explorer. There was a flash and loud report in his very face. A stinging pain shot through his left arm. Without weakening his intense resolve to get the grip, it confused him. He grappled with the figure without perceiving that it was a woman; it tottered under his furious rush; he got the grip; and, as ha wrenched, a dreadful, oiercing scream rang through and through his ears. “Heavens! It’s a woman!” he cried; and they both came to the ground together. On the instant he was on his feet, holding her in his arms, a dead, inert weight. He carried her to the sofa, laid her on it, and switched on the electric light. He saw her red hair, and cried, “Kitty Meredith herself, bv all that’s holy !”

There was little triumph in his tone; he knew too well the effect of the grip and the wrench.

He bent down over her: and then he saw that her liair was half-red, halfbrown. The wig had been twisted aside in the fall. His heart stpnd still.

He bent lower, and said in a hushed voice, “Good heavens, it’s Barbara! Oh, what a shocking mess!” The words were hardly out of his mouth when the handle of the door was turned ; the door was shaken; and the voice of Josephine cried, "What is it that has happened? Mon (lieu! Open! Open!” The cry awoke him to Barbara’s danger; and with clumsy fingers he began to pull at the cap and veil and wig. He tore the veil free and thrust it into his trouser pocket. The cap came away easily; and he thrust that into his other trouser pocket. There came a loud knocking at the door, and the voice of the Marquess cried : “What is it? What has happened?” “It’s all right! There’s been an accident! Wait a minute!” cried Absalom, tugging at the hair-pins.

“An accident? Are you hurt ?” cried the Marquess; and there came a clamour of excited voices of people hurrying down the stairs.

“Curse these hair-pins!” muttered Absalom; and then he cried louder: “I’ve got a bullet in my arm. It’s nothing! I’ll open the door in a minute I”

There was a louder clamour of excited voices asking questions outside the door. Suddenly the wig came clear. Absalom looked round the room for a hiding-place. No safe one caught his eye. He dashed through the window and thrust the wig into the bottom of a thick shrub a few feet away; dashed back into the room, and shut the panel entrance of the secret room.

Then he came quietly back to the sofa, bent over the unconscious Barbara’, and said in a low, clear voice in her ear:

"Say nothing, Barbara: say nothing.” Then he went to the door, unlocked it, and threw it open. The Marquess, Lady Surratt, the Lari of Tilcombe, Josephine, and Jenkins came tumbling over one another into the room. Josephine and the Marquess were dressed. The others wore what garments they chanced to have caught up in their haste.

Josephine glanced round the room, and flew to the unconscious Barbara with a cry of: “Oh. poor mademoiselle!”

The others burst into a clamour of inrjuirv. When it had died down a little Absalom said : “There’s been a horrid mix-up, I was sitting at the window in the Tower Room, watching for the burglars to come across tho lawn to steal the rubies, when 1 henid a noise in this room. I dashed into it, saw a figure dimly, and grappled

with it. We struggled, and somehow my

revolver went off, and hit me in the arm.”

“But you hadn’t got a revolver! You wouldn't let me get you one!” cried the Marquess. “I found it in my dressing-gown pocket. I put it there this afternoon to be ready against emergencies,” said Absalom firmly. “Very clumsy —to shoot yourself. You shouldn’t have these things about if you don’t know how to use them,” said the Earl of Tilcombe.

“But what’s happened to Barbara?” said Lady Sarratt. “Has the revolver shot her, loo?” “That’s the worst of it,” said Absalom in a tone of despair. “It all happened so quickly; and I was so confused by the revolver going off and the bullet in my arm that I didn’t realise that it was a woman I had hold of till it was too late. I got my favourite jiu-jitsu grip; and I’ve injure her badly.” “Good gracious !” cried the Marquess. “That was a silly thing to go and do!” said the Earl of Tilcombe with conviction. “Great idiot!” cried Josephine from the sofa.

“Why, you’re streaming with blood!” cried Lady Sarratt to .Absalom. .Absalom gazed down at his arm. His shirt-sleeve was scarlet ; and the blood was pouring off the tips of his fingers on to the floor. The sight awoke him to hid own condition. He stared stupidly at the streaming blood ; and then a sudden faintness came over him. He sank into the nearest chair, murmuring, “Tie up my arm, somebody, will you? It’s bleeding like anything.”

“He’s fainting! Give him come brandv!” cried Ladv Sarratt.

The Earl of Tilcombe dashed to the table, poured some brandy into a tumbler, and hurried to Absalom with it.

-> Xo—no alcohol,” murmured Absalom, and fainted.

They fell upon him. Lady Sarratt caught his uninjured arm, and shaped "his hand. The Marquess propped him up, and the Karl of Tilcombe poured brandy into his mouth, and down his shirt-front — chiefly down his shirt-front. He came to, choking. Jenkins, who had attended a course of St. John Ambulance classes, tore open the sleeve of his shirt, and bared his bleeding arm. Then he tied the handkerchief ot the Marquess tightly over the wound. Josephine glanced round at them, saw how busy they were, and ceased trying to restore Barbara to consciousness. She pulled out her handkerchief, moistened it with her tongue, and rubbed away at the line of green paint at the bottom o flier mistress’s eye-lashes. It was fortunate that it was water-colour. Most of it came away on the handkerchief. In three or four minutes Absalom’s arm was bound up, and the bleeding stopped. His wits cleared, and he said : “You had much better see to Miss Lessing. Sho’s hurt much more than I am. This wound’s nothing. Fetch a doctor for her.”

“But what was Miss Lessing doing here at this hour?” said the Marquess with a puzzled air. “She must have forgotten something—her fan—her handkerchief —and come down to get it,” said Absalom in a firm but faint voice.

“No —no, it was not a fan ; it was not that!” cried Josephine quickly. “She could not sleep, poor mademoiselle. I road to her, but she could not sleep. Then she said that the fresh air would make her sleep; she would walk in the park. She dressed and came downstairs io go cut into the park through the window cf this room. And that great red beast hurt her, poor mademoiselle!” And she began to sob.

“And she’d just opened the windows when 1 heard her and rushed in,” said Absalom.

“I see,” said the Marquess in the tone of one entirely satisfied. Through the door came Lord Fleetham, his face set in an expression of furious anger. “Hang it all!” lie cried furiously. “(,'an’t one get a wink of sleep in this house? Can’t you find any other time but the middle of the night to make an infernal row, firing off guns, and jabbering like monkeys?”

“Shut it," Pinky! There’s been an accident,” said the Lari of Tilcombe. “An accident? .And 1 wasn’t here? Hang it all! Nobody ever tells me when anything’s going on. 1 might be a perfect stranger in the house!” cried the injured young nobleman. “We’re wasting time —valuable lime!” said Absalom. “Miss Lessing must have a doctor at once. Every minute is important.” “Of course —of course!” cried the Marquess. “Jenkins, go and wake Higgins, and tel! him to take the big car and bring Dr LTquhart at once.” “Hurry him up: and make him make the doctor hurry up!” sard Absalom. Jenkins hurried away to rouse the chauffeur. Absalom bade the three men carry Barbara up to her room. Then when he realised how they would do it, he bade them rouse some more footmen, and let them carry her up, sofa and all, just as she lav. She was no longer unconscious; her face was distorted with pain, and now and again she moaned. Jenkins came quickly back from rousing the chauffeur, ami the Marquess sent him to rouse his fellow-footmen. He was not long about it. and four of them picked up the light Chippendale sofa and the light figure'lying on it. and carried it with ease. Absalom adjured them to be careful, and tried to walk up the stairs after thorn. But at the movement the faintness came on him again, and he had to sit down. He bade Josephine get off her mistress’s clothes without stirring her if she possibly could —to cut them off her. Lady .Sarratfc said that she would help her. But she lingered behind the footmen and their burden to say, “What is it you have done? How have you hurt her?”

“I’ve crippled her—possibly for life said Absalom with a groan.

CHAPTER XVIII.—ABSALOM’S TROUBLE.

When they had carried Barbara up to her bedroom, Jenkins and one of his confreres helped Absalom up to his. Johnson helped him to undress and get into bed. His arm was very painful, for the bullet had embedded itself to the bone; and he fancied that it had splintered it a little. The pain was by no means an unrelieved misfortune. It distracted his mind somewhat from his far more painful anxiety about Barbara’s injury, and from his grief that she should have been driven by her devotion to Sibyl to lay the part of Kitty Meredith. Ha divined painfully how bitter the struggle had been before she had brought herself to play this part of a female Robin Hood in the modern world, so much better organised to resist aggression against the sanctity of property. He realised the cold courage which had been necessary to face the danger of an imprisonment which would have rendered her useless to her sister, and the prospect of a disgrace which to her proud spirit would have been worse than death. His heart bled for her that she had been reduced to such straits and such terrors. He could not bring himself to blame the pride which had preferred these danger’s to accepting a loan from him; the pride was part of her, born in her. and strengthened by her training and surroundings. He heard the doctor come up stairs and go to her room ; and he lay awaiting his verdict in a cold sweat of apprehension, fearing to receive the worst tidings of her condition. And his apprehension was protracted ; it was nearly three-quarters of an hour before he came to his room.

Dr Urquhnrt entered with a very grave face, and Absalom’s heart sank. He knew well enough what Barbara’s injury was, how painful and how serious; and he said miserably enough : How is Miss Lessing, doctor?” Dr Urquhart shook his head and said, “ I have reduced the dislocation, but it’s a very serious injury.” “ Mot permanent I hope,” said Absalom with a very dry throat. “ She’ll bo lucky if it isn’t,” said the doctor gravely. ‘‘-It’s too early to give a definite opinion ; but the injury is serious —very serious.” Absalom groaned. “I never see the use in a case like this of holding out faose hopes,” Dr Urquhart went on. ” But to-morrow the Marquess will telegraph for Sir Erasmus Bloomfield, and then we shall hear what he says. He may not agree with me.” “ I hope to goodness he won’t!” said Absalom fervently. “ So do I,” said Dr Urquhart without any hopefulness in his tone or face. ‘‘But now lot’s have a look at your arm. The chauffeur fortunately told me tljat it was a case of a bullet wound, and so I have my instruments with me.” The next twenty minutes were very painful indeed to Absalom, for it was not only a case of a bullet wound, and so I have bad fancied, it had splintered the bone, and the splinters had also to be extracted. Dr Urquhart wished to give him ether for the painful operation, but Absalom refused to have it administered. At the end of it Dr Urquhart congratulated him on his endurance. But Absalom was in a state of parlous exhaustion. When the doctor had gone he lay congratulating himself that this had not happened in a middle-class household. In those circumstances the doctor would hardly have been content to treat a seri-ously-injured girl and a man with a bullet in his arm without calling the attention of the police to the matter, and under their questioning there was no saying—in the state of prostration to which she must have been reduced by the shock and the pain—what dangerous admissions Barbara might have let slip. Fortunately, in Gillingham Castle they were safe from any intrusion of the inquisitive police. There was one further anxiety, however, which troubled him, and that was the matter of the red wig hidden in the bottom of the shrub. That must he recovered and hidden in a place of safetv — or. better still, destroyed—before morning. If one of the gardeners found it, it would let loose a flood of surmise and suspicion, •in which Barbara's name would surely come to shipwreck; he could see no chance of saving it. At the least Lord Gillingham and Lady Sarratt could not fail to perceive that Barbara Lessing and Kitty Meredith were one and the same person. Absalom did not fear any harm from Lady Sarratl’s possessing the knowledge, but lie had far too noor an opinion of the intelligence of the Marquess to endure the thought of his possessing it. He was quite sure that he. would contrive in some entirely idiotic fa -hion to make the fact common property. The right person to recover the wig was himself; and when at last the house was still lie slipped painfully out of bed. entirely careless of Dr Urquh-art’s injunction that he was on no account to disturb his wounded arm. At once a deadly faintness came on him, and he slipped down into a sitting posture on the floor, with Lis hack against the bed. His voice was so faint that he had some difficulty in awaking Johnson, who was sleeping in the dressing room. Then when Johnson had helped him hack in‘o bed. it was some time before he could bring his mind to a clear consideration of the problem. He could not go and recover the wig. That was plain. Tie would not he strong enough for hours. It was ahead’’ four o’clock. The gardeners would he at work at six. There was Lady Sarratt. He could trust her. But then there was the difficultv of getting her out nf bed at such an hour, and the further difficultv of making sure that someone did not awake and see her return with the dangerous niece of evidence. Besides, it meant admitting her to Barbara's secret; and he was sure that too tuanv people already had been admitted to the knowledge of it. Then his wits unite cleared, and he saw that Josephine was the onlv person to do his errand. She knew the secret already. She must h” trustworthy to he in Barbara’s confidence. At any rate, she had to be trusted.

trustworthy as lie had always found him, The only other person was Forbes. And Absalom was pot going to trust him with this secret. It must be Josephine. He said to Johnson : “ Go to Miss Lessing’s room and tell her maid I want to speak to her. Be as noiseless as you possibly can.” “ Yes, sir,” said Johnson; and he went. He was some time gone, and Absalom began to grow anxious. But at last he came back, and-with him came Josephine. *' She didn’t want to come, sir,” said Johnson.

‘‘That’s all right,” said Absalom. ‘‘Will ypu go and get me a syphon of soda water. I’m horribly thirsty.”

Johnson went, and Absalom turned his head to Josephine. She was glowering at him, her pretty face contorted into a scowl of hatred. If looks could kill, Absalom felt that ho had not long to live. He wasted no time pn inquiries about Bar- “ The wig—you’ll find in the bush on the left of the windows of the Blue Room,” he said in French in a low voice, in case Johnson should have lingered at the keyhole to learn why he had sent for Barbara’s maid. Josephine’s face cleared a little, and she said, “ Good. I was wondering where monsieur had hid it, and I was anxious — oh, but anxious!” “ You have a clear hoirr to get it in—more,” said Absalom. “ I shall get it safely,” said Josephine; then she paused, glowering at him again, and added, “ Oh, but how I hate you. monsieur, for hurting my poor mistress!” ‘‘ I expect you do,” said Absalom. “ But it’s a good job it’s me you re bating. If it bad been anyone else, I don t see what the deuce we could have done. At least, we can save your mistress’s reputation between us.” ‘‘But what good is a reputation if one is a cripple?” said Josephine angrily. “ To Miss Lessing it’s a groat deal, ’

said Absalom. “ Besides, your mistress is not a cripple yet, not by any manner of means. There are a good many things to be tried before we give up hope.” Josephine slipped out of the room ; and Absalom lay wondering anxiously whether she would succeed in recovering the wig without being discovered. He thought that she would, if she had drugged the coffee under Leroux’s very eyes without his seeing her, she would surely do this unseen.

It was an hour later that a gentle tap came at his door. It opened, and Josephine peered in. “It is all right, you great red baaed,” she said. .Absalom laughed faintly. He was only grateful to the girl for the relief her words had given him ; and presently he fell mto a disturbed sleep. For the next 48 hours his arm was very painful, and gave him very lit'le rest. But then his strong constitution and abstemious life set it healing. But he was little the better for the lessening of the pain to a dull ache. He was able to think clearly, and his thoughts were distressing indeed. He blamed himself bitterly and continuously for the injury he bad inflicted on Barbara : his heart was wrung with pity for her suffering. Moreover, he was full of tears. He dreaded that he had lost her. He knew that she had a woman's natural pride in her beauty; she would surely never forgive him for having crippled her. She must hate him ; he could exnect nothing else: and his heart was very heavy. This trouble of mind made him slower recovering; in his weakness it spoiled his rest of nights. He lay awake wearily rehearsing the arguments he would r.se to soften her. Moreover, he began to receive visitors, and their visits went no way to relieve his trouble. Lord Fleetham was the first of them. He broke fiercely through Johnson's guard, and reproached Absalom with even greater fierceness for having broken up their table at bridge, since the Earl of Tilcombe had found the Castle so depressing with two invalids weighing on the spirits of everyone in it, that he had betaken himself to London. Absalom was exceedingly short with the anvry voung nobleman. Indeed, be curtly bade him go away. The next dav lie heard from Johnson that he had gone 10 L-vloii That afternoon the Marquess paid him a- visit. He came into the room wearing the mast sapient air of a statesman, a grieved and righteously indignant statesman : and at the sight of his, stupid face Ah«nlom’s temper began to rise. The Marquess had felt that it behoved him to rise to the occasion'; and he bad thought out—or. to be exact, tried to think out—what be wanted to say. He greeted Absalom very coldly, and cleared his throat.

'• This is —?r —rr —a deplorable business. Mr finmmp.” he began. “T had a difaculty in—er—er —finding v/ords to express my opinion of your carelessness.” .Absalom glowered at him. But he realised that lie had to grin and hear it. His defence nurl ever remain a secret Between him and Barbara. He loved the Marourss none the more for that. ‘‘ I have come to the conclusion that you came here. Air Oommc —er—er—on a wild'-mse chase —that the rubies never were in danger at all.” ‘‘Dp your kevs open the safe, then?” said .Absalom clrilv. I have not troubled to try them again. I have not thought it nece-'sarv,” said the Marquera with an air of great dignity. “ The rubies are in the safe: no one can get at them. One of these davs I am going to have the safe opened and repaired ” ‘‘One of these days? With the kevs of the safe in the possession of someone whom you don’t know?” said Absalom quickly.

“ I have the kevs. There is nothing wrong with the kevs. I injured the mechanism of the look by slamming the door of the safe. That is all. And I must point out that that is also your fault—that I should never have Opened the safe at all on that occasion, and then slammed the door of it in my rel-'ef at finding the rubies in it. if yon had not come to me with what T must desig-

nate as—er —er —a cock-and-bull story about this young woman, Kitty Meredith. ’ ’

Absalom ground his teeth softly. ‘‘But that is but —er —er —a small matter, Mr Gomme, though it distresses me to have to reveal the secret of Gillingham Castle to some—er —er —probaly unsympathetibc mechanic from London. But the important thing is that a —er —er— charming and distinguished young lady has been injured when staying under my roof, by your—er —er —criminal carelessness. Gf course, you have to some degree been punished for it by the injury you have inflicted on yourself. But I cannot but feel that you have escaped lightly; and I felt bound to convey to you my extreme —er— er —disapprobation of your—er —er —stupid carelessness. If you will carry firearms about with you and acquire these dangerous Japanese accomplishments you should —er —er —learn to use both with discretion.”

“I should. But if it comes to a question of stupidity, there’s not much to be said for the wisdom of keeping valuable jewels in a safe in a secret room, and then pointing out to every casual visitor where that secret room is, and where you keep the keys. In fact, you are in tlie first place to blame for all this disastrous business,” said Absalom tartly. The Marquess flushed a purplish red. “I—l—l’m not s-s-surprised at this —not at all,” he stammered. “I might have expected it —er —er —American er —er —manners.” And he went towards the door with an air of great dignity. ‘‘Quite so; the truth is foreign in every country,” said Absalom. “But I will further assure you, Lord Gillingham, that if yon haven’t the sense to get that safe opened at once, when you do open it you’ll find the rubles gone.” CHAPTER XIX.—ABSALOM GROWS EASIER IN MIND. Absalom gazed at the door which closed behind the dignified figure of the departing Marquess with a smile of angry satisfaction. He had so complete a realisation of his stupidity in not having kept his head after the revolver shot that he needed no one in the world to further impress it on him. Much less did he desire the Marquess to do the impressing, for he honestly accounted that thick-witted nobleman to share to some extent the blame for Barbara’s plight. In the first place, if he had not owned the Gillingham rubies, there would have been no Gillingham rubies to steal; in the second place, if he had had the sense to keep them at his bank, they would have been out of Barbara’s reach ; in the third place, if he had not been so stupid as do reveal their hiding-place to every casual observer, she would never have known where they were. His angry expression grew vengeful as he wished that someone might steal the rubies before that imbecile peer had the safe opened for repairs. That would be a very just penalty for him to pay. He found it something of a consolation to cast about for people to share with him the blame of Barbara’s plight ; and he had no difficulty in finding two more. The first of them was the fence, Ferdinand Ferrer. If he had not been -willing to buy the rubies, Barbara would never have tried to get them for’him. The second was Jasper Forbes. It was quite clear that she could not have undertaken such a dangerous enterprise without the assistance of some such confederate; Jasper Forbes had encouraged her in the enterprise which had brought such disaster on her.

Absalom felt the muscle of bis wounded arm carefully. It was somewhat flabby; but it did not seem to have suffered so far any great deterioration. He made up his mind that it should net. It was very clear in his mind that these two who shared with him the blame were to be punished; and it was equally clear that muscle, as much muscle as possible in the case of Jasper Forbes, would play an imno riant part in the punishment. He thought that in about 10 or 12 days his wounded arm should be ready to do its share of the work : and he was impatient for those days to pass. Hr- smiled a dangerous smile as he thought of the retribution which hung over the heads of the unwitting fence and explorer.

Then ho fell to considering again his brief, hut unpleasant, interview with the Marquess. Well, after being so entirely frank with one’s host, the only thing to do was to relieve his house of your presence as soon as you possibly could. Me thought that he might safely drive to London on the morrow, in his easily-run-ning car, without lengthening the convalescence of his wounded arm. Then he turned once more to the matter of his almost continuous consideration. Barbara. Johnson kept him informed of her condition. He knew that the great specialist, Sir Erasmus Bloomfield, had refused to pronounce an opinion as to the permanence of her injury. He also knew

that she had not yet passed out of the feverish stage, which was not to be wondered at, seeing how much more serious was her injury than hv. 'own. But even so he made no doubt that he could have an interview with her did he wish for one; and he pondered the matter for a long while, weighing with infinite care every argument for and against it which came into his mind. He decided that lie would not see her. She tnnsl- be bitter indeed against him at present: hut, like every other human emotion, bitterness grows weaker with time; and lm had better give her time. If he exposed himself to the first sharp edge of her bitterness, she would say things which would hurt him. of course: but that was neither here nor there. Ho must pav the penalty of having lost hie head. The danger was that she would say these bitter things, and feel bound to abide hv them later. It was bettor not to give her the chance Pf committing her pride to anv course while she was in this state of aggravated bitterness. In a month or so, when she began to get about, he would eee her. She would be bitter enough then probably, but she would not be so bitter; and he would

have a better chance of getting her to listen tt> such a defence as he had to make. Yes, he would postpone their interview till she was about again. Having made up his mind, he felt easier, and slept well that night. The next morning he gave orders that his car should be ready to take him to London; and then he. wrote a letter to Barbara expressing his deep regret for the injury he had done her. He was careful to make the letter as short as was consistent with the full expression of his grief. He had just finished it, and sent it by Johnson, when Lady Sarratt came to see him. He was doubtful whether she would reproach him or not, but he thought not; she was intelligent enough to realise something of the situation on that unfortunate night. He was right; she had come tp condole with him. She had been much with Barbara, helping Josephine to nurse her. She brougnt him the information that Josephine had insisted so vigorously that no trained nurse should bo summoned, that they had been forced to yield to her. Absalom realised that Josephine had acted with excellent reason; there was no saying what Barbara might have said when she was light-headed. He wished that Josephine did not cherish so violent but so natural a dislike to him. She might have proved a very useful friend with Barbara. Lady Sarratt also told him that Barbara had said nothing whatever about him; and Absalom was sorry to hear it. He would have preferred that the bitterness she must feel should have found vent, and the more furiously the better. Expression would have cased it. Lady Sarratt saw his frown, and she raid, “I don’t think you need feel very dispirited, my poor Absalom. Though she doesn't like to say anything herself, she stops anyone else abusing you, and quickly.”

Absalom’s face grew brighter. Lady Sarratt looked at him, hesitating; then she said, ‘‘l mav as well tell you that I believe verv little of y'our story of what happened that night: but I go about the world minding my own business. Besides, I'm Barbara's friend —and youns.”

‘‘Thank von.” said Absalom. “She needg a friend.”

“Oh. she'll never toll me anything—neither me nor anyone else! Barbara is like that. But one can guess a good deal.” “At any rate, there is no excuse whatever for mv having lost mv head as I did—no excuse. A man oughtn’t to lose his head.” raid Absalom, “Not with a bullet in bis arm?” said Ladv Sarrait. “Certainly not,” said Absalom, with extreme decision. “ Ah. you're too much of a Snartan for us,” said Lady Sarratt, smiling. (To be continued.)

Wife: “John, I haven’t a ek'rt fit to wear.” Husband: “‘Veil, that’s the stylo, isn’t it?” A small applicant for assistance being interviewed by the charity worker. “What is your father?” asked the latter. “ ’K’s me* father.” “Yes. but what is bo?” “Oh ! E's me stepfather.” “Yes, yes. but what docs he do? • Does lie sweep chimnoys, or drive buses, or what?” “0-o-w !” exclaimed the small ap))licant, with dawning light ot comprehension. “No, ’o ain't done nulhin since we’ve ’ad 'ini.”