HERITAGE

Taranaki Daily News, 8 September 1934, Page 23 (Supplement)

HERITAGE

BY

HEDLEY RICHARDS

(Author of “The Telegraph Call,” “The Deputy Avenger,” etc.)

CHAPTER 6 (continued). While Mary had been busy with the lawyer, Mrs. Burley had been quite as busy. The moment she heard the front door shut, and knew that Mary had really gone, she hastened to her bedroom. and after taking the precaution to lock the door, she opened the drawer expecting to see the brass-bound case. It was pot there, and she stood staring into the open drawer. It was only half full, a few pairs of woollen combinations and some stockings—there had been plenty of room. Where had it gone? There was no possibility of it having got underneath the woollens, still she moved them. It couldn’t have got into other hands. It had been stolen; neither of the maids had been upstairs, she had been on the landing all the time and no one had entered the room. “Ah, the window cleaner!” Mary had named him. “Yes, he must have taken it, but what on earth had made him think it was of value?” she speculated.

Mrs. Burley was a woman of action, and having made up her mind that the window cleaner had appropriated the case, she put on her outdoox* things, then putting £lO into her purse she went downstairs, telling the servants she might be late for dinner. Taking a -'bus it was not very long before she reached her destination, which was the firm who sent out the window cleaners. Entering the office she asked if she could see the man who had that morning cleaned her windows.

“What is your address, madam?” She gave it, and his interest deepened. “He was a chance employee, madam, one of the men was married this morning and he sent the one who was working in your district to take his place. Ordinarily he should have been out until twelve o’clock, but he came back about three quarters of an hour ago, saying he was ill, and went off at once. It’s not a case of dishonesty, is it?” “Oh, dear, no, but there was a little matter I wanted to see him about, Could you give me his address? I’d be willing to pay for any trouble I gave you.” The clerk didn’t know what to say, but after a second he went into another room and when he returned he told Mrs. Burley he had sent a boy to get the address from the man whose place he had taken. Half-an-hour later the boy returned and gave the clerk* a slip of paper, which he handed to Mrs. Burley.

“Oh, thank you so much, please give the boy something for his trouble,” and she laid five shillings on the desk. “I don’t think I would name it to your master that I wished to see the man, it might get him into trouble,” she said. “Hum! There’s more in this than the old girl wants me to know. Give the boy something—evidently the five shillings is meant for me to stop me talking,” and he slipped the coins into his pocket, taking out three coppers for the boy. “Foui” and nine profit, how much more shall I make out of it? Because I’m certain there is something at the bottom of it.” Mrs. Burley went on her way until she came to a cab stand, then she took a taxi. Her destination was in rather a low district, and one with which she was unacquainted. At last the cab stopped at the end of a Court, and the driver told her that was Prince’s Court. Mrs. Burley told him to wait, and as she went up what was little more than a blind alley, with tumble down housesbn each side, she was glad the men and women who were lounging about; .didn t kpow of those £lO in her purse. No. 10 was rather more reputable looking than the rest, and in answer to her knock a fairly clean woman appeared. “I want to see David McClean," said Mrs. Burley, “Then I’m wondering how you'll manage it,' ma’am, seeing as he left here half and hour ago, bag and baggage, which was all easily carried on his shoulder."

“But you know where he has gone?” “That" I don’t ma'am. I’ve known David this dozen years and never once 'as he given me notice or told me where he was gone. He just clears off and comes back unexpected like.” “Hasn’t he any regular work?" x “Not a bit of it, he can turn his hand to most things, but he’s a rolling stone.” Mrs. .Burley spoke in a lower tone. “If you could give me any help in finding him Td reward you handsomely.” “I cannot, ma'am, I don’t know nothing about his going and coming.” CHAPTER 7. AT 10 PARK LANE, It was long after dinner time when Mrs. Burley reached home, and as she mounted the steps a taxi stopped, out of which an elderly man stepped, then assisted Mary. The maid opened the door as the latter ran up the steps. “I have come for my boxes. This gentleman is Mr. Carey’s head clerk,” she said. “Oh, indeed! And where are you going ?” Mrs. Burley asked, after bowing stiffly to her companion. “Mr. Carey has arranged all that," then, as Mrs. Burley took the stranger into the drawing-room, she ran upstairs. It didn’t take her long to finish packing; she had been up early that morning and done most of it, as she was determined not to remain with the Burleys, but when all was ready she found that it would require two cabs, so the maid was dispatched for another. Before she left the house she asked Mrs. Burley if the case was forthcoming, and

yvas indignantly told that she knew nothing about it. “Perhaps you can give me the address of ■ your window cleaners," said the clerk. “No, I cannot. I think we’ve changed lately," but he was quick to see she looked uneasy. By the time Mary reached her new home it was five o’clock, and she was glad to see that Mrs. Reay had a dainty little tea ready for her, and as she sat in an easy chair with a small table close to a bright fire and the afternoon sun shining into the room, she felt very cosy. Presently there was a tap on the door and her landlady entered. “I just came to ask you, missie, what time you’d like your dinner ?” . Mary smiled. She had hated her dinner in the middle of the day. “At home in New York we dined at seven, but I’d a splendid luncheon with Mr. Carey, and now I’m making such a good tea I don’t think I can do with it before eight, unless that is too late for you.” “It’ll suit me fine, and I’ve got a nice little chicken for you, then I'll make you a pudding. Mr. Carey thinks no one makes puddings like mine, and be sure you let me know if there’s anything you want.” “Thank you, Mrs. Reay. I don’t think you’ll let me want much.” “Not if I know it. Well, I must go; there’s two of my gentlemen dine at half-past six and. another at half-past seven, so I'm pretty busy. I told Mr. Carey it was a good job they were all old gentlemen in a way, the youngest of them is turned fifty. You see it wouldn’t have been nice if they'd been young, with such a beautiful young lady as you in the house.” Mary laughed. “I donlt think they’d have done me any harm.” “No, but you might have done them; you’re just the sort as gentlemen breaks their hearts over,” said Mrs. Reay as she left the room. When she was alone Mary’s thoughts went to the lost case, then they travelled to Mr. Dalrymple, and a strong inclination to interview him seized her. What was to hinder her? Mr. Carey had said he lived at 10 Park Lane; a taxi would soon take her there. Glancing at the clock she saw it was just six, two hours until her dinner time, and Mr. Dalrymple would probably not dine till later than that. She would go and do her best to get him to see her. Having made up her mind Mary went into her bedroom and put on a long coat and hat, then she slipped quietly downstairs and out of the house. Going quickly down the street she made her way to the nearest cab stand, but before she got there she saw a taxi and signed to the man to stop. As she stepped in she told him to take her to the nearest telephone office; there she asked to be put in communication with 10 Park Lane. A few minutes elapsed, then a hard, cold voice said “Hello.” “Are you Mr. Dalrymple?" “Yes, who are you?”. “I’m a woman.” “Your voice told me that. What’s your name ?" , "I will tell you when I see you. Will you grant me an interview ?” There was a long pause, and Mary wondered what the answer would be—then it came—- “ Come to Park Lane at once; I’m at liberty just now.” With a satisfied expression Mary turned away; she had kept the taxi waiting and now she told him to drive to 10 Park, Lane." '“You can wait," she said as she,got out when they arrived there.. It was an imposing mansion, and the door was opened by a footman with powdered hair, who wore a livery equally imposing. “I have' an appointment with Mr. Dalrymple,” she said as she stepped into the hall. “Yes, madam; will you please follow me.” Mary glanced round; the hall was a very large one, the floor was marble and expensive rugs were laid here and there, wonderful statues adorned it, lounges were placed invitingly up and down, pictures that only a rich man could have bought hung on the walls, the ceiling was a work of art and from it hung at least 50 electric lights-, making the place lighter than noonday, It was the house of a rich man who loved to display his riches. The servant opened a door, saying: “The lady you expected,. Sir.” > Mary stepped into the room, and the door was shut behind her. For a second she stood quite still, her glance wandering round the massively furnished library, then resting on a man who had risen on her* entrance. He was tall and thin, with a hard . cruel face, but there was something aristocratic in his bearing. “Won't you come forward,” he said, and as she advanced he took in every detail of her appearance: the tall willowy figure, graceful in every movement, the lovely face, the big hazel eyes, and the mouth that was a trifle large but was both tender and firm. Then the golden hair- that seemed like a halo round the fair face. (To be continued).