THE BRUNDAGE PLOT

Taranaki Daily News, 3 October 1932, Page 11

THE BRUNDAGE PLOT

■ By

E. C. BULEY

CHAPTER XIX.-— (Continued). “Are you mad, Jane? Or worse than mad ?” Melissa asked. “I had news that you were dining here, in the company of that man, and came on. at ©nee.” “.You should make yourself clearer," Jr.ne said,'-deeply offended. • M ‘What do you mean by worse than fciad?”

“I mean that it would he as bad for -me, or almost as bad, if my sister were the, next Lady Burr-and-Asche,” Melissa said, “almost as bad as Marise herself.” .

"Ohl” Jane said, under her breath, end rose unsteadily. Melissa clutched her anxiously by the arm. "I didn’t mean.that, dear,”, she said. “You .d.on’.t know what is going on, of course. That man is collecting evidence in support of a claim. That is what brought him to England.” • "I .don’t believe It,” Jane said- passionately. "We cannot talk about it here,” Melissa eaid, looking at her friends, feigning to toe interested in the dancing. “Can you. make an excuse, and come home with ihe?”

“I suppose so,” Jane eaid wearily. She found Jennifer talking to Brund“I'm afraid I must go off, Jennifer," she said. -‘“Liss came specially to collect me. Family troubles; but don’t mention that. It’s a nuisance, when everything was- so jolly.” Then she glanced at Brundage, and fbr the first time-was smitten by the possibility that what Melissa said might be true. He looked .so different, 60 uneasy. Worse than his evasion of her overture was this sudden suspicion that his changed .manner was that of a wrongdoer detected. - ■ Miserably unhappy, Jane, permitted herself to. toe carried off io Melissa’s flat. ' “Now tell me, Lies, why you are so positive, when yoii say that Brundage is making. a 'Claim,” she begged. “And don’t forget that it makes all the difference to me whether this is true pr not.” > “Don’t say that, Jane; I refuse to helleve it,” Melissa- replied. “When you hear what we have learned about this man,.you .will change your mind about him.” -

“We?”. Jane querlesd. ‘•Mr Sharpies has been. inquiring,” Melissa explained. “He had ho trouble fa. learning, that somebody else had also beeni searching the records, looking for proofs. He had no trouble In tracing the Inquiries back to Mr Brundage.” “Are you sure of that?” Jane asked. ‘‘Quite sure. It happens that Mr Shirpies employed the same person; the'person, who inquired for this Australian.” “But why should he make Inquiries if he knows all about it?” ’•» “Mr-Sharpies says-he.is looking for conclusive proof.. He may know about It, -without possessing document? which would'substantiate a claim. It may be well-nigh impossible to find them. I. suppose you haven’t told the man anyJane contented herself by anwering this question with a-look. “What else has your, wonderful Mr Sharpies discovered?" she asked. “That the .man 'ls in financial trouble .’ln - Australia,” Melissa Said. “What more would you want to know?” “He’ll be in financial trouble here, If he does what you credit him with wanting to do,” Jane -said grimly. "There’s not’ much to. being Lord Burr-and-Asche, except 'the title ana the ' Chalmers money—which, ol course, you know how to protect.” “In my oWh case; and Bonzo’s,” Melissa replied. “But not in .yours, my “That’s the last iniquity, is It?” Jane cried. “He’s a fortune hunter, as well? Then let me tell you, Liss, that I as good as flung myself at his head to-night. And he turned me “Jane! Oh, J blame myself. But who would have thought that .you would become infatuated with a man ■like that?” ' ' “Never mind what he’s like; you don’t know,” Jane said. “What happens next?” “Bronzo will be here, in a few days, and Mr Sharpies will confer with him.” -Jane Interrupted, by a peal of Utter, mirthless laughter. “Benzo and Mr Sharpies?” she jeered “K Brundage wants anything, he’ll just take it from. children like that. And it is his to take, by rights, I suppose. Only. . . only. . . Melissa watched her sister, openeyed, as she wrung her hands In utter wretchedness. . • “If he does, he can never have me, Jane -cried. “And I cannot have him! ‘And oh, Liss, he is all I want in the world® 1 * ■ “I blame myself," Melissa repeated, staggered by her sister’s passion of regret. “Go to bed and try to sleep, Jane. - There must be something attractive about the man, to make you talk Hko that; But why does he behave so strangely?” . “Why?” Jane repeated miserably. “You don’t know half of it.” “Tell me, dear,” Melissa urged. “Are- you sure that you care so much? Isn’t the truth that you set out to best Marise Formby? And where does he stand with her?” “What does it matter ? Jane asked. “If he’s acting as you say, nothing else matters. But you can put Marise Cut of your head, if it is any satisfaction. Only to-day. ...” , She broke off abruptly, determined not ’-to pursue that train. of thought. “Yes?" Melissa encouraged. What happened ta-day?” Encouraged by questions, Jane contrived to give her sister some account of the day’s events. It . did her good to . talk, she found, when once she was started, and it did her good, too, to see how puzzled Melissa was by hex* -narrative. She ■ found some of her faith reviving, as she spoke; but the ouzkle became -only the more baffling. ■ "But how extraordinary!" Melissa commented. “I'm not quite sure ■that I follow it all."

“Of course: you _do,” Jane said hotly? “Marise had spread the rumour that he was engaged to her, in such a. way that he could not deny it. She was conceited enough to meddle with his horse, too. Before racing finished, everybody on the course knew how politely he’d slapped her for It, and you know how racing gossip spreads.” “But Jane! You . . s "it will toe your name now." "T knowl’-’ Jane said. “Jennifer attended to that, and we to do it-—he and I both. And then hei 1 . . he backed nut. "I wouldn’t allow anybody else to say that, Jane.” ■ , "Well, that’s what it amounted to. That’s what make me think that Sharpies may be right for once. And he’s not often right, either, Jane, concluded viciously. » » “I can’t make head or tail of m. Melissa mused. “He must know what father left you." “Oh, money!” Jane raged, walking up and down as she twisted her fingers. "Money’s got nothing to do with it. It’s just some notion about this watched title. And when I say that, A sounds ridiculous. Oh, I don t know.” ®

“Then go to bed!” Melissa counselled. “You’re all on edge, and a sleep will do you good.” She administered a sedative, ana Jane, too weary and wretched to face her own thoughts, slipped into a pr found slumber. Three days later Lord Burr-and-Asche arrived, a little more mature and very much browner,- but otherwise the same Bonzo. Jane had a pang when she saw his brown face and square shouldfirs; at first glance he- was so like the man who was the cause of all this trouble and but Jane quickly came to resent ine likeness as a sort of caricature., Bonzo unhesitatingly accepted everything he was told, and it almost tempted Jane to some biting comment when he referred to Brundage as “that rascal.” She was forced to hear a great 'deal of talk and deliberation; all based on the supposition that Brundage would surely deprive Bonzo of his birthright, if that could possibly be done. ■ • The docility of her nephew further enraged Jane 'Chalmers.- Sharpies, who thought of many things, was responsible for ths suggestion that the young man should assume a mOnocle, so that his extraordinary likeness to the man' whom the solicitor called the "claimant” should not be so palpable.. .‘And it rather sickened Jane to hear Bonzo promising, to keep clear of any fresh entanglement with Marise Formby. ' “As if Marise would choose such a thing!” she said to Melissa. “I cant stick any more of this, Liss. I’m retiring to Redleap, to be out of the way of it all.” ~ „ . ' "But the house Is practically shut upMelissa .remonstrated. “And you’ll‘be’ frightfulily lonely.’ “I can rub along,” Jane assured her. “And I want no company but my oy.-n, and Greygown’s. FOr the time being, I’m not fitted for civilised' society. It rather makes me want to scream.”- ■ CHAPTER XX. “The man who invented that bit ot ‘advice about “treating ’em rough” must have been thinking of Marise," Lail Formby confided to George Winterbrook, one day when the Lingfleld 'Park Incident was about a week old. “She’s on the warpath after Brundage again; after taking it out of everybody for the dressing-down that lie ■gave her.”- .. ~ ?‘She’s not a bad judge,” George said Indulgently. “He’s a topping good sort.” “She as good as admitted that she had no right to interfere,” Lail went on “I heard her asking Mr Godsell to convey that to Brundage. Fancy Marise! I never' knew her to .admit that she could be wrong about anything. ...” “What came of it?” the Jockey cislccd “Nothing at all,” 'Lail said. “Brundage has gone missing again, ever since that day. Down at Swetherton they swear that they know -nothing of his movements; and if they don't know, who does?” “He’s not bound to tell anybody his business,” George remarked. “Don’t you be drawn into meddling, Lail.”

Lail laughed aloud. “So easy, isn’t it?” she asked. “With Marise raising small hell about every least thing she doesn’t like, just because she is uncertain about him. Believe me, George, there’s not a soul at the studio, from Jimmy Keegan downwards, who wouldn’t subscribe liberally to a reward for the discovery of Brundage. Not it would do her any good to find him. Brundage has fallen, and for good, for that pretty girl who won the big double.” . “How do you know?” the jockey a.sL cd “I saw him looking at her, stupid," Lail said, tweaking his ear. “Like I look at you?"

“Not a bit," Lail said. “You look at me as if I were a well-bred yearling, and you wondered what price I would fetch under the hammer.”.

“There are meaner looks,” George said.

“If Marise could only be made to ■see It,” Lail continued, “I mean, that Brundage has- no use for her. But she never gives anything up, when •once she has started on it.” “Ah, well, it’s not my business,” the jockey said comfortably. “Noryou don’t have to work with her."

What Lail said was true, in essence. Marise, after feeling - herself prodigiously insulted, had arrived, by some process of thought entirely her own, at the opinion that Brundage had been right, whoever may have been wrong. He had treated her as she might have treated anybody else, under the same circumstances. And having absolved him. ehe proceeded to ventjher

annoyance on the people with , whom she worked.. Among those who suffered from her mood was Miss Fay Delacourt, who was fully justifying Keegan’s choice of her for a small part. Fay had not only caught on to her work very cleverly, but she had won general approbation as a “nice little' thing." Marise, who missed very little that happened in the studio, was conscious of the fact that her protegee was bidding for favours all round, and receiving them. J ~ , The -scenario writer had. slipped a few extra lines into her part; and they were bright ones. The very best of them, when Marise heard it, was neatly transferred to Marise herself. Marise ordered this burglary with a grim smile, as she imagined the skilful flattery Fay must have expended in earning this effort on. the part of a notoriously lazy man. (To be Continued.).