THE BEAUTIFUL PROXY

Taranaki Herald, Volume LX, Issue 143783, 6 May 1912, Page 5

THE BEAUTIFUL PROXY

By R. MURRAY GILCHRIST, Author of 'The Gentle Thespians," "Lords and Ladies," "The Wonderful Adventures!" ''Beggar's Manor," 'The Secret Tontine- etc., etc.

[COPYUIGIiT.] CHAPTER XXXUl.—Continued. "There's two towns we have the choico of," Sarah ijumia said. "Sraton and Bailey Bridge they're culled. One is a quiet out-of-the-worki spot. the other big and busy, it you've made u;i your mind to travel by rail, you'd best choo.su Barley Bridge, sccing as there's a good train service. e shall soon come to the cross-ways." "Let us go to Barley Bridge, then," said Anne. "The sooner I leave this country the better. But 1 have no money." •'.Never bother," said her friend. "I've enough and to spare in .my pocket. 1 don't mean to quit you until I've seen you safe with your friends." A mile or two further on the track divided, one part descending sharply through a narrow ravine where flowed a wiki peat-stained stream. The mare descended carefully, and after a tedious interval a dusty highroad was reached. In the distance Anne saw the bhio haze of a town, dominated by the slender spires of an ancient nriorv church. "Yonder's Barley Bridge," said Cephas, "we'll be there in half an hour. Jinst I drive straight to the station?" " 'Twould be best," said his sweetheart. "Then we can get off straight away." "I don't fancy you going, my lass," said Cephas, mournfully, "but 1 reckon 3-ou'll have your way." "Oh, I shall be all right," cried the young woman. "You needn't fear aught happening to me. I can look after myself, as you know." "You can that," replied Cephas. "None better, as I'm well aware. All the same, I'm not easy in my mind. I'd not trust that chap, Bretby, not if you gave me all the gold in the world !"

Just then a slight accident occurred. One of the shafts of the old cart, which had borne them safely along the roughest road within twenty miles, now gave way with a sudden snap. Cephas alighted, to examine tile fracture. his ruddy face grotesquely rueful. '

“Well, here’s a nice job,” he said. “I shall have to splice it together, and Lord knows how long ’twill take I Whatever’s to be done now?”

As he spoke, a queer old-fashioned huckster’s cart came rattling along the road. The driver stopped and touched his hut-brim with Ids whip, “Ought amiss?” he said. “Can I help in any way? .Why, I’m blessed if it ’tisu’t Mr. Partridge!” The farmer greeted him cordially. “You’ve come in - the nick of ■ time,” he said. “These two ladies are anxious to get to Barley Bridge at once.” "get ’em jump in,” said the newcomer. “I’ll run ’em to the town in less than half an hour.”

Ho opened a hamper, and found a piece of rope. “Happen this will be of use to you,” he said. “I wisli I could stop to.hclp you, but to be plain I’m in a hurry.’" .

Sarah Emma kissed Cephas heartily. Anne gave him her hand, and told him that she would- offer suitable things when she had reached some safe haven. Then they took their places beside the huckster, and were borne rapidly towards the town. CHAPTER XXXIV. Barley Bridge is an old-fashioned town wherein no charge for import has occurred within living memory. There is nothing new the'rc : —the most secluded recently-built house elates from early Arictorian days, the streets are paved with cobbles, untender to .the foot of man and beast.

There, is a fine market square, in whose midst stands a tall obelisk erected to commemorate the victory of AVaforloo. Facing this monument stands on the south side the Theatre Royal, which claims to be the oldest place of amusement in England. The huckster who so kindly gave Anno and Sarah Emma, what ho called a “cart on the way,” left them at the end of this market place, “You’ll bo at the railway station in no time,” said the man. The two men thanked him heartily, and then moved across the square. As Anno reached the front of the Theatre Royal, her heart leaped, and leaving her companion, sho hastened towards a man who was just entering by way of the stage door. “Air. Alolynonx!” she cried gladly. “Oh, I am thankful to find you!” The actor stared in astonishment at this oddly-dressed figure. “I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, madam,” he said. Anne’s relief in discovering the actor prompted her to a little comedy of her own. “You are Air. Molyneux?” sho said in an altered voice. “AA’ell, I must say that I’m in luck’s way. You don’t know me?”

“I have already said as much,” replied the actor shortly-, “But yon must let me have a talk with you,” said Auric, with a feigned melancholy. “Do call me to mind—it is so very painful to be forgotten.” "AVcll.” said Air. Alolynenx, drawing out his watch, “come to ray room, and I’ll hear what yon wish to say. 1 can spare five minutes—not a second long-

Anne beckoned to Sarah Emma to follow her, and they passed into a tiny room whose walls were hung with ancient play-bills. There, sitting in a worn armchair, she turned aside her face, removed bonnet and veil, and began to laugh almost merrily. Air. Alolyneux came nearer, looked into the beautiful face, then fell back in astonishment.

“By Jove, it’s Miss Edgeworth 1” he cried. “Of all the strange happenings in the world !”

“Yes,” replied Anne. “I had no idea that you were hero, but I’m delighted to see yon. I’ll not worry you with my adventures since I left the company; it would take too long, and, after all, my lips are scaled. 1 hope that Airs. Alolynonx is well, and that your son and heir thrives apace.” “Both are in fair condition,” said the player. “They are staying with mo at the Red Lion. I’ll'own that my wife finds returning-to the stage somewhat fatiguing, but she’s very bravo. Suppose that I take you to her? I know that sho would bo delighted to meet you.” “I shall be glad,” said Anne. “I want to look at your little boy, too. Shall you make an actor of him?”

“We .have made no definite plans yet, although lie is quite thine months old,” said Mr. Molyneux, drily. “Yon shall give ns your opinion. And now, what will you do? I really must go to rehearsal, there’s a new play on—or rather an old one brought up to date—a combination of ‘George jiarnwcll’ and ‘Caste.’ I don’t suppose that you’d care to see it?”

Anno read eager curiosity in Sarah Emma’s countenance. “It would be a- great pleasure to my friend,” sho said. “Please let us go in front.” Mr. Mulynenx assented graciously, and conducted them to the middle of the orchestra stalls. Sarah .Emma had never visited a theatre before, ami the woes ami joys of the chief character nim ed her to frequent tears and hearty laughter for a lull hour. Mr. Molyneiix reappeared and conducted them Irom the theatre to the hail-timbered inn near by, where they were introduced in bis wile, a pale, preliy woman, who set them at ease immediately. Sarah Emma devoted herself at o nee to the infant, and the others sat talking o! Anne's next move. Sin- i-onfioi-d In 1 hem ns much as sho could ol he;- story without any violation of cimlidence, and alter a careful examination of tin- time-table the actor explained that, the u isesi plan would he lor her to spend the night in their company. “I his town is on a branch line,” he said. "It would he impossible for you to reach JDelaval iiail to-day. Early to-morrow you might catch a tram.” “Do stay, .Miss Edgeworth, as our guest,” said .Mrs. Aiolyiieu.x, "Believe me, I shall bo happy to entertain you.”

"Thank you,” said Anne. “And now I think that 1 had better send a telegram to Delaval, to let them know that I’m free.”

Mr. Molyneux brought her a form, and the message was dispatched. Thou all lunched together, and later in the afternoon drove out in a finehired carriage to enjoy the sights of the surrounding country. The hours passed very pleasantly, ami in the evening Anne and Sarah Emma, to whom the actress had insisted on lending evening gowns, went again to the theatre, and watched the play from a a 'red-curtained stage-box, “It’s high life, this is,” said Sarah Emma, at the close. “A bit unsettling for mo,/that’s certain. My word but 1 shall tcdl Cephas how folk stared at mol” (To bo continued.l