HERITAGE

Taranaki Daily News, 13 September 1934, Page 15

HERITAGE

BY

HEDLEY RICHARDS

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

SYNOPSIS. “Mary, come close. I cannot die without telling you.” ‘‘What is it, mother?” ‘‘l’m not your mother. . . I did it for gold. . . But you must claim your own. . . It’s in the little brass-bound case.” Seven days later" Mary arrives in England. She is going to Mrs. Burley, the sister of the woman she had always believed to be her mother. In the train she makes the acquaintance of Jack Dalrymple, who falls in love with her at sight. He writes his name and address on a slip of paper and gives it to her. That night, after Mary has gone to bed, Ralph (Mrs. Burley’s son, and an unmitigated bounder) finds this piece of paper on the floor. Mrs. Burley quickly transfers it to the fire. Mary has now lost the address of her friend, and does not even know his name. At last Mary brings herself to open the. little brass-bound case/ In it she finds the marriage certificates of Hugh Dalrymple and . Leslie Ord; and the birth certificate of their daughter Mary. Also a long letter in the dead woman's handwriting telling the story of the secret marriage of Mary’s parents, and their tragic death immediately after their baby’s birth; and how Mrs. Drury and her husband had succumbed to the offer of five thousand pounds from Mr. Francis Dalrympli (half brother of Hugh) who wanted the estate himself. Mary was to be brought up as the Drury's child, and for additional security they were to go abroad. The only other person who knew the truth was Nurse Barnes, whose silence had had to be bought. The letter ends with instructions to Mary to take the certicates to Mr. Carey, a lawyer in Lincoln’s Inn; and a warning hot to have any dealings with Nurse Barnes, who is sly.

Francis Dalrymple has two sons. Dick, the elder, is a spendthrift, and ne’er-do-weel, and his father has just made a new will leaving the Dalrymple estate to the younger son Jack, whose character is just the opposite. Suspecting Mary is an heiress, Ralph makes up his mind to marry her, but his attentions are repulsed. Mrs. Burley then seizes her opportunity to steal the little brass-bound case, but it is in turn stolen by Davie McClean, a window cleaner. Mary goes to see Mr. Carey and explains everything to him. She feels she cannot stay any longer with the Burleys, and he finds, her rooms with an old housekeeper of his. A strong inclination to interview Francis Dalrymple comes over Mary, and a taxi soon takes her to his town house in Park Lane. Francis Dalrymple gazes at his" visitor. ' She .is the counterpart of a portrait that hangs in the picture gallery at Dalrymple' Court. There is no need for the girl to tell him who she is—he knows. When Mary leaves, 'war is declared between them. Next morning as Mary is glancing at the morning paper she is arrested by the words in big letters “Murder of a Millionaire.’’ Francis Dalrymple has been shot while sitting in his library the night before.. His latest will cannot be found, . ~. Mary decides to go and see Nurse Barnes, but Dick Dalrymple is there before her, and Mary hears them plotting against her. Money is exchanged between them. Mary runs back towards the station, and in doing so sprains her ankle. She hails a passing motor-car. ‘

CHAPTER 10.

MARY MAKES A FRIEND.

The motor drew near, and Mary called “Stop” at the top of . her voice, not that she thought there was much chance r of her being heard, but she couldn’t help herself, the cry came spontaneously. The motor passed, then came to a 'standstill, and after a second an elderly man got out and came to her. ‘ “What’s amiss, young lady,” he asked in a voice that though gruff was not unkind. - “I’ve sprained my ankle and I fell into the ditch. Do help me or I shall have to spend the night here." “Of course I’ll help you,” and he got down into the ditch and looked at her .foot which had swollen terribly. . “I think I’d better take you home in my motor. Where do you live?"

“In London. I was trying to find my way to Biford station.” “You’ve lost your way, it’s over there, quite three miles distant, but I’m going to London and you’d manage the journey more comfortably in my car than by train. What do you say?” “Oh, thank you, I shall be very grateful.” “All right.” Then he called “Luke,” and the chauffeur appeared. “This young lady has sprained her ankle; she wants to get to London and I think she will be more comfortable in my car than going by train. Now you can lift her up to me, then I’ll carry her to the* motor.”

(To be continued).

It was all done as easily as possible and a kind of rest made of a small trunk for her foot, then when she was settled comfortably the stranger seated himself by her and the chauffeur took his place in the front and the car started. “You look pretty considerably pale. I think a drop of brandy and something to eat would do you good,” and he took a flask of brandy and poured a little into a glass.

“Drink that, it’s diluted,” he said. Mary drank it then she took a sandwich he handed her, and it was not until she had eaten half-a-dozen that she was satisfied. “I’m afraid you’ll think me ravenous, but I’ve had nothing to eat since my breakfast.”

“Have some more,” he said. “No thanks, I feel ever so much better.”

Just then the motor stopped at a sign post at the junction of three lanes, and while the chauffeur was reading where they led, a young man walked past the car, and Mary recognised the man she had seen leave the station that morning. Then he stopped, saying to the chauffeur:

“Do you happen to know the quickest way to Sulsby station? I was told there was a field about here that was a short cut?”

Mary shrank back, the voice was that of the man who had been plotting with the old nurse. “I don’t know this district at all, sir,” said the chauffeur, as the car started, and Mary huddled into a comer for fear- the stranger should see her and connect her with the runaway girl. “Are you afraid of Richard Dalrymple?” asked the man at her side. “Yes.” “What’s he done to you?” “Nothing, but it’s what he will do if he can.”

“Keep out of his way, the Dalrymples are not to be trusted, they’re a bad lot,” said her companion. A faint smile curved her lips; she was a Dalrymple, and she spoke her thoughts. “They’re not all bad.”

He looked at her keerily. “Those I have heard anything of are bad; anyway if you’re" afraid of that young man it’s a good job he didn’t find you in the ditch.” “Oh, yes; I am very thankful and grateful to you,” and Mary held out her hand to him.

He took it in his big one and clasped it firmly, then he smiled as he said: “I’ve a notion we are going to be friends.”

“I hope so,” she answered. “By the way, you haven’t given me your address in London, not that we shall be there yet awhile.” Mary told him where she lived. “I do hope I shall be home before Mr. Carey starts to meet me.” “Carey? Is that Carey the lawyer?” “Yes, he’s my guardian.” “And he’s my solicitor; Haven’t you any parents?” he asked. “No, I haven’t been in England long; my adopted mother died as We were coming home from New York, where I’ve lived nearly all my life.” “That’s queer. Didn’t I tell you we were going to be friends. I’ve only just settled in the old country. I’ve been sheep farming in Canada where I made my pile. By the way, I’ll introduce myself as Daniel Price.” She smiled.

“And I’m Mary Drury,” as she spoke she stooped to pick up her handkerchief that had fallen, so she did not see the expression ofb amazement ' that was visible for an instant, then he turned to look out of the window. A moment later he said: “Many years ago I knew a man called Tom Drury. Was he any relation?” “He was my adopted father. He is dead now.” “And are you living with any relations?” “No, I’m in lodgings, I. did stay for a while with my mother’s sister.” “Didn’t you like being there?” “Not much. Mrs. Burley wasn’t a bit like her sister, and Mr. Carey arranged for me to have rooms at his old housekeeper’s.” “Did Drury make money in the States?” he asked. “Yes. I think he did pretty well.” “That’s a good job for you, young lady.” Mary didn’t answer, and for a time the silence was unbroken, then he told her he had been motoring in the north, that he had a sister who lived near Newcastle, and he had been to see her. The motor at times exceeded the speed limit, still it was after ten when they reached London' and when the car stopped at Mrs. Reay’s Mr. drey was just getting into the taxi. “Hello, Carey, I’ve brought your ward home,” said Mr. Price in his gruff voice. The lawyer drew back and turned to the motor in time to, see the speaker carefully help Mary out. “I didn’t know you knew Miss Drury,” he said rather stiffly. “I didn’t until this afternoon when the fates made us acquainted, but she’ll explain. By the way, shall I carry you upstairs?”