Rogues In Arcady.

Thames Star, Volume LIX, Issue 16799, 29 May 1926, Page 3

Rogues In Arcady.

OUR SERIAL STORY

iiy SIR WILLIAM MAGNAY, Bait. (Author of ‘The Red Chancellor, “T he Master Spirit,” “A Prince of Lovers,” etc.)

CHAPTER XXIV. CHANCE PLAYS INTERPRETER. Marion thanked him, but declined. She was, particularly just th'en, not greatly interested in the rather conceited little major. “Oh, but you must let us take you,” he urged “We shall pass within a mile of Gresford, and'it will be so nice for Mrs. Flordon to have you.” “I have a lot of parcels waiting for me at the station,” Marion objected. “We’ll pick them up on our way, if that’s all,” he insisted. Mrs. Flordon come out and was made to back up the invitation. She was a fairly good-looking woman, a few years older than her husband, a fact which she sought to disguise by an elaborately juvenile way of dressing. Being a cliatter-box, she was not sorry to have a companion over the fifteen miles of road which lay before them; consequently Marion soon found herself seated by her side in the car. It was not long- before a circumstance which was just then uppermost in Mrs. Flordon’s mind was touched upon. “I suppose you do a great deal of country visiting,” Marion had observed, rather listlessly. “Oh, yes,” her companion answered in the casually bragging tone such ladies are wont to assume.- “We are always staying somewhere or other. You see, we know between us such a heap of nice people who have country places. But it is rather fatiguing sometimes, and quite a, business.” “I should think it must be, if only in the matter of dresses.” “Oh, gowns, yes. One has to get a shop-full at the beginning of the coun-try-house season. My maid declares she is worked to death with packing and unpacking. She goes by train with the luggage. It is very convenient. We take nothing with us but my jewel-case.” “Yes; it is as well not to trust that to your maid. There are so many thieves at the railway stations.” “And not only at the railway sta tions, my dear,” said Mrs. Flordon feelingly. “There are thieves everywhere, in places where one would least expect them. Did you hear of the loss I had during our star at Gresford Hall?” The question woke Marion from the apathy which she was trying to disguise. “No. What was that?” she inquired, with a sensation of vague fear coming over her. “Well,” pursued Mrs. Flordon, unable to forego the recital of her grievance, “of course, you must understand, my dear Miss Cardon, we don’t want the thing talked about, as it might defeat the ends of justice. But there can be no harm in telling you in confidence of the dreadful loss I sustained. Do you know I lost over a thousand pounds’ worth of diamonds while we were at Gresford Hall.” ; “Mrs. Flordon! How awful!” Marion exclaimed mechanically, with lips that went white. The manifest - genuineness of her sympathy was gratifying to the ag-

grieved lady. “Awful isn’t the word, my dear,” she declared, tending to an attitude of exaggeration. “Those magnificent diamonds mysteriously gone; no one knows where.” “Stolen?” Marion’s tongue was dry, but to her companion the appalling story warranted the manner of its reception. “Stolen, yes. And false stones substituted for them. Four specimen diamonds from the centre of my tiara. A most clever theft, they say; but that is -,a small consolation to me.” The horror of the realised truth was holding Marion in its icy grip. It was ouly by a great effort that she kept down an access of trembling. She felt she must say something, if ever so commonplace. Silence might tell its tale even to this shallow, preoccupied woman. “Have you no chance of recovering the diamonds? The police ” Mrs. Flordon - made a quick gesture of hopelessness. “The police are entirely baffled. They can’t get a clue. Of course, long before this the stones have been sent to Amsterdam or some such place.” “Sir Percy Brayshaw knows, of course?” (To be continued.)