The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-04-03 00:00:00

forsaking her infant child. The nurse wrote
to me, having found me out by some means, and,
like a fool, I took charge of the creature, and provided
for it. Until it was ten years old I supported it at
school, and then I receiv9d a letter from the governess,
saying that a woman, calling herself the child's mother,
had taken her away. Some little stratagem had been
used, and I made enquiries only to find that it was in
very deed Angela Delphine who had been there.
Doubtless she had taken the child to bring up to her
own evil calling; it was nothing to me. From that
hour I washed my hands of her. And I warn my son
here, and you toO, Bruce Camaby, to have nothing
to do with any of the tribe. If you do, you will pay
for it dearly, in heart-aches and ruin."
"And Len. will pay for it, if ever he meets that girl
again," was Bruce Carnaby's soliloquy, after hearing
the old gentleman's story. "Wonder where she is.
She seems to have vanished from the face of the
earth.
Nearly two years passed away from the time of the
Drizzleton adventure, and two events of some interest
to our story occurred about the same time. One was
the nnnouncement that a marriage was arranged
between Captain Bruce Carnaby, of the Bays, and Miss
Biekerstaff, of Charnwood Hall, Ambleside, and Dar ule-
terrace, Mayfair.
Mr. Atherstone had quite got over his pique on the
subject, and sent the bride a handsome present, and
congratulated the bridegroom he irtily. Leonard was
very useful at home, and his marriage might very well
wait a year or two. He was to be best man at his
friend's wedding, and Flora's jewel-case was already
the richer by a handsome bracelet, his gift. So there
was no loosening of the bond of frieadship between the
three. _ _ _

The other event was the death of an aunt of Mrs.
Atherstone, who left Leonard £5OOO, to be his aim.
lutely to do what he liked with, and thus rendered
him independent of his father to a certain extent.
It wanted but a very short time of the wedding,
which was to be sotemnised with much eclat at the
time-honoured St. George's, Hanover-square, and
Bruce Carnaby wrote to his friend to come and spend
a little while with him in town. _

_
"Come and spend my last days of liberty with me,"
he wrote. "I am graciously permitted a week of
freedom to say good-bye to all my bachelor haunts.
l'd like to do it in your company, old fellow, if you've
nothing better to do with your time."
Leonard went gladly, and the two spent a pleasant
time knocking about London together. The last night
they went to the Lyceum Theatre, to see a new piece
and a new performance.
"A real, live Australian, Len," Bruce Carnaby said.
"But at the very top of the tree, evidently. London
is going mad about, her. I've bought the box off one
of our fellows, who booked it three weeks ago."

"What's her name ?"
"Aurora Monteith."
" Powers ! What a mouthful. What's the piece?
Anything good?"
"The papers say so, and the public seem to endorse
their opinion. It is called Kismet,' and they say she
is a wonderful actruss, and a pretty woman too. I
can't guess at what she is like from the hideous litho
graphs about." -
Cheap photographs were not stuck about the shop
windows by the thousand five-and-twenty years ago,
or Leonard Atherstone would have seen Aurora
Monteith the first hour of his arrival in the town. Be
went with his friends to the Lyceum, saw a crowded
house, a well-appointed stage, and a fairly-acted piece.
A voice that thrilled to his very heart sounded from
behind the scenes; there was a roar of rapturous
welcome, as a slight figure came forward and acknow-
ledged the greeting, and he started up with a
muttered exclamation as he recognised Beryl Joyce.
(2o be continued)