CHAPTER IV.-Continued.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LV, Issue 13994, 27 August 1909, Page 1

CHAPTER IV.- Continued.

[COPYHKJHT.]

"But Sir George was m> very good friend." said Marian Bourchier, tho lx-autihtl curvo of her mouth twitching nalheticalh. '1 have holi>ed to fight ins battle lor him here in Grnndport. and it is my right to know " She broke oft suddeuly for thtf dainty lace trifle which .sh«» would have dignified with the uanv* of handkerchief, and which her emotion had called into i>,^\ , lluttered from her hand ami tell in tho kiieo-hole space between the two pedestals of the great writing table— tui the sido ouposite and away from tinrevolving chair and its' ghastly occupant. Doctor Bieiulon was neareht, and he made a dash to piclT up the white wisp, but Marian was beforehand with him. In one graceful, gliding ru-h' she" reached tho table, l>ent down ami rescued her property from the cavernous recess. "How careless of me! Thank you so much," slw murmured, almost colliding with, the doctor as she ro'-e to her feet. "] — )<.t nic see, I wassajing that I cannot possibly go away to-night till I have learned, right hero and now, the reason that prompted Sir Goorgo to tak«' his life. On the fnce of it h:s defeat over the election, you will say? But, believe me, gentlemen, Sir George wasn't that kind of man. He must have had some motive deeper than that."

Tho doctor glanced ruefully at Inspector Hurtle, and whispered to that efficient officer: "She's evidently an American, but if she was lloos-evelt's ow n imperial daughter we sJiould have to u<'t her out of this. There are thin^h to do. 1 niu.st "have the poor iellow laul out pioperly before rigor mortis sets in to begin with." The inspector looked doubtfully at tho winsome intruder with the gorgeous raiment and the glittering gems. He was a fairly keen judge of men and women, as how could he fail to be when his lines were cast in Grandport slums. But his experience of Americans was strictly limited to the cattlemen who arrived on tramp steamers and "painted the town red before embarking on the back-trip for their native shores. Dogged tenacity in their joys and woes was the leading characteristic which he attributed to these full-blooded scions of the star-spangled banner. "If she's Yankee you'll have to tell her something, doctor," the inspector replied behind his hand, "She won't go till she thinks she's gained her point, if I know anything of the breed. Aod. t should give her the straight tip while you're about it. It will have to come out at the inquest to-morrow anyway, and I 'ye got reasons for wanting to note the effect of it on some in the present company." If she was American! Could Marian Bourchier have overheard Mr. Hurtle's words and learned therefrom that he had so much as left her nationality open to doubt she would Lave put him right in language perfectly lady-like, but not, perhaps, quite juited jto the presence of th©' dead. For if there was one thing in the world that she took pride in. it was the fact that she bailed from the great republic over the sea. Marian Bourchier was the daughter of an American friend and business connection of Sir George Lipscombe. who, dying some two years before, had loft her a sum that in English money wucM hare totalled up to close on tv.o millions. After a due period of mourning tho Parent to Whom she had beon fondly attached, Miss Bonrchier had quitted her marble palace in New York and, with an elderly female relative as chaperon, had set sail for Europe. That had been over a year ago, and she had never yet shown the slightest disposition to re-cross ihe Atlantic. As was but natural in the case of a young woman so bounteously endowed with personal charm in addition to hard cash, 'London and Paris had conspired to give her a splendid time. There is no door that will not open to a welllined purse, especially if be wielded by an American, and when that American happens to, bo a very pretty girl, with a winning if somewhat imperious way with her. the result is doubly assured. Pcttca and courted by all sorts and conditions of people, from starchy aristocrats to the smartest of the new plutocracy, it is small wonder that Marian Bourchier dallied on this bide ot the ocean.

Yet with all the adulation and social success tho girl's head hail been by no means turned, and she found time for otlier things than sheer frivolity. She had a passion for the folk-lore of what she called "the old country,", and it was a hobby with her to study ageencrusted British institutions. So when the seat at Grandport fell vacant she hinted to Sir George that she would like to come down and help him, and without knowing anything of the merits of either party had proved a tower of strength to his cause — chiefly from the magnetism with which she infused her naive ignorance. During the contest she and Mrs. Haldimand, her duenna, had stayed at Lipscombe Hall — the noble pile which the shipbuilder had reared for himself two miles out in the country. Strenuously as she worked for her host, it is to be doutyfed if her fervent championship was aid unmixed blessing from the political point of view, Owen Lipscombe had lost his heart to her long ago, and his usefulness as ap aide dc camp to bis father wss sorely discounted'by the distractions of her presence — the more so as Lord Wargrave, the c)ever delegate from tho central organisation in London, was also a gaest at ;he Hall, and, to put it mildly, gave him good eatjse for'jeajousy. Somewhat diffidend and. retir ; ~ by nature, Owen had not yet s\immo..J up \ courage to disclose the love that consumed him, and he had been grievously disappointed by the failure of the opportunity which he had hoped co-opera-tion during £he election would give him. Throughout the stress and turmoil of tho campaign Wargrave had iound it compatible with his duties to danre perpetual attendance OH the young American heiress. The two had been well nigh inseparable — always under the plea of work, but always with evident pleasure in each other's society. When his lordship announced that ovonjnjj; at the town hall that a pressing engagement compelled Mm to catch the night mail for London without so much as waiting for the declaration of the poll, Owen had cherished a secret joy. Such was the history of the. young lady wh.om Doctor Brendon was called upon by inaw^tor Hurtfe to enlighten and, while he was about it, Jo give "tho straight tin" to. The dootor approached the tasli in a somewhat singular way. Brushing old Wilmer Kite from his, path, lie strode up to Owen and looked at the young man sca'rehnijrly. The alert vigilance of the inspector, too, implied that something; of .'.erious import Was pending, "Can you confirm or otherwise, Mr. Lipscombe, a prevalent report about Sir George to tbo effect that he was lefthanded?" the doctor asked, gravely. "Certainly," was Owen's reply, "It was fairly well known in Crandport. 1 think, that my father was a Icft-hand- «■<! man." "In that case," continued the doctor, <|UK'tly. "this is no suicide, hut undoubted murder. The bullet wound is in Sir George's rinlit temple. The pistol is lying at his right side. Tlx> infeivneo is that the weapon was nlared there, to look as if it lincl dropped from liis ri^ht hand, by someone who either ili<! nut know of, or had overlooked, the l.reuliarity."

(To be continued.)