THE BRIAR BUSH MAID

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17756, 28 January 1926, Page 12

THE BRIAR BUSH MAID

“ STAR ” SERIAL.

By

KATHARINE TYNAN.

CHAPTER XXVII. Elizabeth began painstakingly to tell the whole story, keeping carefully out of it the part that related to Cynthia. “Would you mind giving me a description of the pearls,” Simon asked when she had finished, “something that might identify them?” “There is a clasp of brilliants. Underneath the clasp in very fine lettering there is the inscription ‘a toi.’ The necklace has been in the family for a long time.” “How did not Clare come to discover the difference in the necklaces by that?” Simon asked. “W ell, the odd thing was that the clasps were almost exactly alike. Clare would not have looked at the inscription, which is in very fine lettering, needing a magnifiying glass to read.” “Odd that,” said Simon, “the clasps being alike! Do you suppose someone knew the pearls and had the clasp copied? That would make it a deliberate planned-out robbery. But perhaps the design may have been copied by the makers of those imitation strings. I know their settings are beautiful, often more beautiful than the real things.” “I think imitation diamond clasps are quite as common as imitation pearl necklaces,” said Elizabeth, and wondered if Simon would remember the diamond clasp of Cynthia’s necklace, for the missing pearls of which they had hunted together. Simon apparently did not remember, or had not noticed. “I think that ‘a toi' might recover the necklace,” he said. “After all a pearl necklace cannot be melted down like a gold ornament nor broken up, since the matching of the pearls is a part of their value. I suppose Scotland A ard gave notice to- the pawnbrokers, looked up the well-known receivers of stolen goods, did all the usual things ? ” “I don’t know,”, said Elizabeth. “I only know that they arrested Bridget.” “Then if the)' did not do the rest, there seems a good deal left undone. I suppose nobody thought of advertising for the necklace?” “I don’t think so,” said Elizabeth. “It seems to me a pretty obvious thing to do. Unless the necklace has gone out of the country someone will have bought it. People don't steal a necklace to keep it. Depend upon it, the one who stole it got rid of it as quickly as possible. Let us keep this thing in our own hands, Elizabeth. I shall send an advertisement to ‘The Times' and ‘Morning Post,’ and T know a man I can get on to Scotland Yard who will do the rest. They seem to have been too busy in trying to catch the criminal to remember the necklace.” “Oh, Simon, how splendid you are!” said Elizabeth, looking up at him with frankly adoring eyes. “Don’t look at* me like that, Elizabeth, or I shall have to kiss you many times.” Elizabeth did not rebuke him. “I can't bear, Simon,” she said, “to , think of poor Bridget getting well enough to be sent to a. cell. Think of how she must have suffered when she was in prison for killing her husband.” “You are sure she is all j-ou think her, Elizabeth?” Simon asked, with a certain timidity. “She is a lamb, Simon. They all love her at the prison. Even the lady—l forget her name; she is a Visiting Justice —she is on a Committee with Clare—the Women’s Council, I think. A most wonderful old lady, Mrs Ilavward, brought the fact before the Committee that women prisoners were allowed only one pocket-handkerchief a week, even when they had colds—and this lady—oh, I remember now, her name is Mrs Parr—said in a dreadful voice, ‘Ladies seem to forget that these people are shut up, not for luxury, but for punishment.’ Well, Mrs Parr has been attracted by Bridget, Sister Rachel tells me, and ” “Then she shall have two pocketlianderchiefs,” said Simon flippantly, and hastily apologised before Elizabeth could frown. “You are a man, Simon,” she said, with scorn. “I am very glad to be, Elizabeth, since I can marry you.” “You can’t be serious for more than a brief period or keep your mind off your own selfish affairs,” went on Elizabeth. as though she was finishing a sentence. “Its only because you’ve made me so happy.” said Simon apologeticallv. “I feel like a schoolboy, or a king. I'll do all I can for the poor girl. Elizabeth. 1 dare say 1 shall be interested personally in her when you take me to see her. You say, or Clare did, that she adored Michael Egerton.' ’ “Yes, she adored Michael. We all do. don't you think. Simon?” "He's a topping kid. I can’t resist him.” “I told Sister Rachel not to be in too great a hurry to get Bridget well. Just think of the law, the wretched man-made law,, trying to get that poor thing well in order to throw her into prison.” “I'm sorry,” said Simon, “that she has that tragedy in her past. It prejudices her case to some extent, although there is no earthly reason why a woman who killed a brutal husband should want to steal a string of pearls.” “They are all fools, those men,” said Elizabeth stormily. “They can t help it. Elizabeth. They are husbands themselves, or hope to be some day. Even I am a potential husband.” “To-morrow you shall go to see Bridget,” said Elizabeth. ”Tf you have any heart or judgment you will be Bridget's champion—and not only with a design of pleasing me.” She said to herself that Simon's way was the simplest one. She only prayed that Cynthia, if she had sold the necklace. had not done so in person. They turned to go home. The afternoon was becoming chilly. Simon, very much on his good behaviour, was asking Elizabeth about the people who had been visiting Dare when he was not there last year. Elizabeth did not

try to recall them. There were all sorts of odd people, but. Clare was sure of her old pals and Elizabeth believed she was right. She took Simon’s hand and made him run with her lest he should feel cold. She had those moments of childishness. moments in which Simon adored her. They stopped, laughing and panting, and found Mr Higgins, puffing like a miniature steam engine at their heels, while from the place they had left there came a pitiful yelping. They had forgotten Mr Saunders. Elizabeth fled back. When Simon overtook her she was kneeling on his trench coat holding Mr Saunders, who was sobbing hard, to her heart. She looked up at Simon and her eyes swam in amber pools. “Oh. I don’t deserve to own Mr Saunders. ’’ she said. “The poor, helpless baby! To think of his mother forgetting him and deserting him. Oh, Simon, wasn’t it dreadful?” Simon agreed that it was dreadful, adding that he wouldn't mind changing places with Mr Saunders. ’ (To be continued.)