The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1885-09-12 00:00:00

[ALL EMITS RESERVED.)
OA.THERINE'S MISTAKE,

OR,
A SECRET. FOR YEARS

CHAPTER XII.
MRS. FAuNCE TAKES SERVICE.
.11'111Rt Arlt the flaming gas-lamps in Regssat-sstrest, tate
IL* May night, a woman stood watching the strange
..es passing by. She was well and neatly dressed,
0.'41Y in appearrsnee and manner. Nevertheless, there
stood, forlorn and desolates beneath the lamps.
ZarlY and vaaious were the people who hurried or
oirolled by 'her; she regarded them all with a listless
*Ye
until •
, ore passed with a quick, sharp step—the
'leP of a MUM with a purpose at heart.
Iler listless eye gathered brightness; she lookei
11,1,4,,1131Y,'easserly, at him, and then 'followed him—fed-
ow him until he turned into a quiet street, leading
°et from Oxford-street, and then she closed up to his
'Bide pad-spoke.
"Sir, -you are an IngestreP"
Re turned upon her in an instant with—
And how do you know that, pray ?"
'You have the Ingestre head and shoulders (I
"uelild know them well), and 'the Ingestre eye—bold
1114 bright as a hawk's—as savage, too. If I had
'lll.tet you in the Arabian Desert instead of here, I
°llld have known you for one of their race."
" True enough; lam Ingram Ross Ingestre. What
° you want with me?"
" Qf you, rather—charity."
b Charity! good heavens! and I am all but a
eggar " lie laughed scornfully. " Wait—l think I
:e a halfpenny in my pocket ; shall I insult you by
°nering it ? "
Put by your money, 'Mr. Ingram Ingestre,” she
returned, gently thrusting back his outstretched hand
:With the coin in it. "Money will scarcely help me in
strait. In this great city lam all alone. I have
4either friend nor acquaintance here; I am willing to
I want a home. Tell me, for Heaven's sake,
ere I can find a respectable one."
Who and what are you, my good soul? and what
it you know about the Ingestres?"
ria "I know, or rather knew, George Ross, of Redfern,
anY years ago. I lived as lady's-maid to his wife
ii I married. I have been abroad since then in
• erent services, and only just come home to an old
;113.Other, whom I find dead two years ago. Now, I
pie neither friends nor home. My name is Keziah
ounce. and what I want now is to find a situation
• neusekeeper' or lady's-maid, in some respectable
IDl.sen's family. I knew you instantly for an Ingestre,
nad that emboldened me to speak."
Ingram Ingestre had set his teeth while she was
BDeaking,
ei
• And so you know that scoundrel at Redfern—
• thief—that— Ah ! but that is nothing to do
With you. Are you telling me a parcel of lies?"
"Truth, sir—truth, as I live."
4,4 You don't look like a liar. See, here is my
,udress; if you are not an impostor, I shall expect
'',1311 to-morrow evening at six o'clock. I will then
Lep
• You if I can do anything for you."
I will come, Mr. Ingestre, never fear. Sir, I
fsaelt you, from my heart," and she curtsied most
ttacefully to him as she said it.
very well-mannered lady's-maid," he thought,
al very
on, as a sort of excuse to himself for lifting
h 8 hat to her as she went away. "I like the look of
iii!Lr; I think she will do well for poor Anna. And so
e knows George Ross, curse him ! "
e walked for ten minutes after that, and at last
Iti-t.,ietrily
eidto,ne of a row of houses in a wide, dull street.
ss Was a strest of bygone grandeur, of faded and past
and the great house he went into bore evi
e
a gees of the same nature. It had efty years beforebeen
w-Ileblemares ; now it was let out in floors to any one
el? could afford to pay twelve shillings a we-qi for
oa accommodation. And at the top of the handsome
oak staircase—the wry top of all— Ing,ram Ross
0 gestre, Esq., had two rooms, one for himself, and
for his idiot sister.
qe did wrong to curse a fellow-creature; he did
le(:sl4se in coveting what was not his own, and hunting
b ° a bloodhound for the vengeance lie thirsted after;
at i
ti 8 xi one corner of his hard, embittered heart he had
to f°,ft and kindly spot—a noble and unselfish devotion
• is idiot sister.
Wretched creature she was indeed, as she sat
‘l°li•
pa, thing and grinning on a stool close to the fire-
never even lifting her lack-lustre eyes at his
twsraece- She was a woman of ssven or eight-and-
scs`lltY, with face, hands, neck, and arms hideously
o,l3"tred and seamed. Her singed-looking hair hung
olea°4t her face, her dress was disorderly and not ovei
blest; and her attitude was that of a child, as she
lior'.ed some paper to pieces that lay scattered round
11,12,1ds was Anna Ingestre, the only sister of Ingram
14 'B, tenderly and reverently loved and cared for by
to, •
nuserable object that she was. He went up and
eofrsed her scarred face, took the paper from her
I's, and asked her if she was hungry.
ets.,4„A es," was the ravenous reply; "I want my
t'eers,
bo'he should have it, he said; and he went to a cup-
iihard, and cut her a huge slice of cake. She started
ci snatched it from his hand, with the devouring
b,_sed of a wild beast. Then she crouched down at
f`.l side to eat, with eyes fixed on the giver of the
sod.
atiently and kindly he watched her repulsive
gskvetnents, and then, drawing her to a seat near him,
limed What she had been doing all the long time he
041 Jett her that day. She turned her vacant eyes
,'Surn with a sort of glimmering archness.
s';'ecl what do you go for, brother, eh?"
fel go t 0 teach music, Anna, you know; the beauti-
tirso-41sic you used to hear in church once upon a
• When you were a little girl."
bas.4ts p, little girl now; only, I have no one to dress
sie,„ zotsh, brother, you would let my servant dress
dress Stle said, pettishly. "I cannot remember to
qle rayself ! I want my nurse to dress me." And
pan to whimper.
to.r„ nd You shad have a servant, Anna, to dress you
'4lo,l°ll'ow. I have a new pupil to-day, and I can
n, to keep some one to look after you now. I
esb,et you a nurse, Anna, dear."
leq" her thoughts had travelled far from that sub-
her fingers were busy with some paper she
Pl,' eked up from the ground.
41e :lave seen the devil to-day, brother; and he gave
~c10..18 paper to play with."
11 k" no; not the devil, Anna."
be, et black man, though; with white teeth, and black
tleviril, and black hair, and black eyes. It was the
kid • I knew him. He wanted you, brother. He
I,Asettllle_qclhad come for you. Then he gave me this
paper, but not to play with. No, he put it
`ktio`tu the thing up there; but / watched him, and
411 s be was gone I got it for myself. Ha! ha I" and
1a 'e
gleefully.
It f;grana looked closely at the paper on the ground.
Vv0;,`,41 been a letter, without doubt; but scarce a
the''' Was to be deciphered now, for it was torn into
tninutest shreds. One he saw, and that was
tdrerrie,
kiye ,went down-stairs, and made inquiries whetter
04 stra
s ager had been into his rooms that day. No
t.h031.11d. tell, save a small child of five years, who
it %gut she had heard a man's footsteps ascending
Itlre,:norning.
I•
le;4111 went back uneasy at heart—information
• ding Redfern lost to him perhaps for ever.
kiswo could have brought it? Who that he knew
14e4jred to his sister's description? No one. He
,
Kqriedned ner gently and carefully, but
.she never
• 'rota her declaration that the devil had been
Iraild left some paper.
"s she knew it was. She saw his eyes."

Ilii,l
ssmOTO
w 414 lI.OSS INGESTRE -
TILE MUSIC XII i.
LESSON.
and
the 1110 old ancestral house w-- 1 • by ---
tha
la.v,teets of its broad lands were appropriatedYoung
a. not InJe.ustrcehoafneßeory,
bout it. _
, Who were quarrelling
er:'1111',8 sEt;tl( Whilehis sister
eter
qayfi tillt up, and dry rot into the floors, and
windowsw e retu
andrnte dad outee r
doors
intoe f the
swmo
er
rl de
tile IPA into the roofs, and batgso
and
the place.
and
the u °lien windows, and rats colonised thteYoung man _ who proid,taeir
nd jackdaws throughu
was
rich relative n h ttetZ back the charity
1'
insane
horse in harness to get
ii
bread
-'lllll'elat-lia'vCYalerrhs'
• man, and made
and fuel to feed the deadened fire
IvolifiY,l?3, Means that many a worse-born 111°11P Was a clever and determined
ii Nit h.
labour people
would employ
gentleman
(le -, oa,ve scorned. He taught everything he knew;
„Ittl at. IS hand to every .
employed;
so.
I,',Leett,,.:3e
caliiis clever, sceievnetuificwhbreanin was at work on
, rtlaa cu &tons, .
night, w hen
nleney by them in the dead of nimg
1 .°lll4l have thought his wearied y must needs
.4145
4he 4p,. He would have sifted the filthy gutt,ers in
4a
Ato t uest streets, if he could have known money
;,. tid e gleaned therefrom.
that. Yet tliis an was a poor one. The secret lay
Chancerymsnit, and Redfern Manor. He made
iat'a.44lll:;t',4llll rt-he was
ea
amnodstneneehdeymem;ana ifinneeveerlyd
tl,:y.pseit. , ,
la
pat , re
Position;holis ' day. and night long employ-
lawyers, and no successin
:44jea no.naoinz,
,k,4'4,,hekit ssr'e,a, et
Nature
position, and no companion-
thativing
had made tender and
and
a
ulot men's, but that lawyers
11,41itie„,--x lattit had terribly hardened.
5?t1) tl3
:_t 8i
illt4oth2C-alad-twenty' Ingram Ingestre was a
:•get
73:ting man, with the remorseless hatred
It that
o`ttt h,in heart, and savage purpose of get-
thq Itail aLger s possesstons in the end.•
Vteps nut half-past four or lock when he ran up
ti1e,444 latr7. a fi.ne- house near o'clock
of the parks, and
,t °Dr.s. 'light in, on the powdered laced foot-
c
ttEiutig the door.
9tell t '
e tilS • , NW Berilstein lam
,- . .
,
IN, 'late% air ? 7
„ flotee,4 tit tb,..7"-°l‘gan-1/IS;ter' '," and ' the -young
' talc -v servant -as'inuch as to, saY, the b,e t4e f '' - - but hat I come her!
.eite-s-ass4 a hue ask d h.
t, , or anythingw
ne Was respectful.
ti_ ta,, e him "There,mas an
tuwalkliionwteevtheer,li:htradryid
h would inform
0101,ei'l organ Was, and , e .
.. - -
,
te
~._.
to dron
(You see he proud enough
Wg
was pro , , .
-4.,..,, •,.;,..r),.•
- %,


.-..2mowSZMWCIEC+.

Swit

fine old surname) Ftented bine-elf at ths:J organ, and
impatiently hantintered out a prelude. His time was
money; and hs waxed impatient as tae minutes
slipped by and mademoiselle did not cone; and just
es he was About to start up End look for the bell, the
door opened, and in came a lady, who walked up, and
shook 'hands, smilingly, with the organ-master.
"I art so sorry my daughter has kept you waiting,
Mr. Ingram," she said; " but she is detained in the
drawing-room by a viSitor—her doctor, in fatt, while
we were staying at Brussels last winter. He heard
we were in Engl-tend, it seems, and came over from
Paris on purpose tte see how Lint was. Very kind clf
him, was it not but then he is a kind man. I wart
to introduce yeti, for I like to have every one's
opinion on this 'man. You know," she added lowering
her voice, and looking very mysterious, "he is what
is generally called a mesmerist; in fact, he cured Lion
entirely through that means. I am a firm believer
in him, Mr. Ingram —in feet, you know, in
mesmerism faith is everything."
Mr. Ingram's nostril curled. Fudge! waste of
time. The lady had better take her music-lesson.
Nevertheless, he did not say so, but consented to
follow Madame the Bareness von Bernstein, rather
stiffly, into the drawing-room.
They went in, and found mademoiselle alone---e.
delicate-leoking girl, about sixteen or seventeen, with
large, solemn-looking eyes, and a quantity of pale
hair.
"Why, Lina, where is Dr. Creusa exclaimed
the baroness, looking about the room in much amaze-
ment.
"He went a moment ago, mamma. He was so
very serry he could not wait, he said, and begged
you to excuse him."
"Very extraordinary behaviour that—but then he
is an extraordinary mart. And se he thinks you are
perfectly recovered, Lion, my pet *:"
"Perfectly, mamma," and mademoiselle twisted her
bracelet, and looked down.
"Did he say anything about c-alling again ?"
"No; he only said that Count Aubigny (you
remember him, mamma ?—we met him in Paris) was
in England—in London—and would call upon us for
him."

"Oh, that handsome man? Yes. You had better
go with Mr. Ingram now, Una. lam so sorry you
have not seen the man every one calls such an im-
postor. Well, he cured Lina, that is all I have to say.
Go, my dear; Mr. Ingram is impatient."
He was, nor did he deny it, but marched in front
of Lina Bernstein, in a mood by no means tender.
She took her seat at the organ, and ran her slight
fingers rapidly over the notes.
"Do you not wish to know how much I have
already learnt," she asked, looking up; then added,
almost pleadingly, "May I speak German to you, for
I find the English so difficult ? Mamma does not—
she is an Englishwcman ; but I am not.'
"I do not speak German well enough, I am
afraid."
"Oh, then, it shall be English," she said, with
winning smile. "I will try my best--no, do my best
--that is it. Now, then, am Ito play ?"
"If you please."
This was a new pupil, remember; he had only seen
her once before.
So she played an anthem of Mozart's, and very
beautifully, too. Her face lighted up with excite-
ment, her large eyes kindled, and her small hands
quivered, as they darted or lingered over the notes.
Ingram was astonished, and plainly said, that t,
such a pupil he could teach nothing.
"Oh, yes," she smilcd ; "I know nothing about
music. I taught myself that anthem. I must learn
much more yet, if you please."
"You are fond of music, then?"

" 6i;;passionately ; all Germans are, you know. I
am German. Dr. Creusa says he could not mesmerise
me if I were not."
"Then you believe in that hum—beg pardon, that
theory ?"
"Yes, monsieur; for what the doctor wills, that I
do. If he commands me to sleep, I sleep—wake, I
wake—sing, I sing. Oh, yes, I believe in him."
"In him! oh, yes, that is it. Now, Miss Bernstein,
I will show you the first principles on which the
theory of music is based, and have mesmerism alone
for the present," and then they went gravely through
the lesson.

She was a tractable and gracious little lady enough,
full of smiles and chatter; but so exceedingly frail
and delicate in appearance, that the great strong-
boned man, with his deep bass voice and rough, curt
manner, seemed afraid to address her, for fear his
gentlest remonstrance should alarm her, or the very
sound of his voice bruise her tiny form. She seemed
like some small fairy, such as you might fancy had
been nourished among rose-leaves and on dew—one
that a summer breeze would waft away, and a rude
shock annihilate altogether.
Ingram was not quite easy till he was well out of
the house, and on the way to his own. Miss Bern-
stein was a very nice little person, no doubt, and
clever at the organ; but something about her made
him feel nervous. He thought it must be the eerie
look of her great mournful dark eyes, contrasting so
with the liveliness of her manner—singular eyes ! one
might think that all the grief in the world was in
them, and had been before they saw light.
Speculating, then, on his pupil (which was not a
habit of his at all), he opened the door of his house
and ran upstairs. It was getting on for six, and he
expected Mrs. Faunce.
As the hand of the clock rested on the hour, she
came—neat, lady-like, and good-looking, as on the
night before.
Ingram made his proposal in very brief terms. He
was going to remove to a small house in the suburbs
of London; he should want a housekeeper, and some
one to look after his insane sister. He would give
her fifty pounds a-year for that—he could not afford
more. He was to leave in a fortnight—would she
take the place?
"Thankfully, most willingly," and very graceful
were the few and earnest acknowledgments she made
for his trust.
He was pleased beyond doubt with her, and she
equally so with him; and they parted with the under-
standinpa that in a fortnight's time she was to take up
her abode at Orville Cottage, Islington, with Ingram
Ingestre and his sister.
When Mrs. Faunce was out of the house, and some
hundred yards beyond it, she began to laugh, and her
mirth became so noisy at last, that it attracted the
attention of the passers-by, and among them was a
venerable-looking, but very nimble-footed foreigner.
He vre a black skull cap, with a tassel, a richly-
braided coat, and Hessian boots. Ile wore a long,
white beard and moustache, too; but his eyes and
brows were dark as night. This man followed Mrs.
Faunce, and watched her still laughing and Smiling,
until, on turning round rather sharply to cross the
road, she happened to observe him.
He looked vacantly above her head, and passed by
She tripped across the road, and went down a small,
dark street.
The old gentleman instantly turned back ,sna
followed her.

(To be continued.)

,111114.
Nkr4,4;