The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-08-07 00:00:00

[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]
THE HEIRESS

ATHERSTONE GRANGE.

BY THE AUTHOR OF

'Allan Thornton," " Effle Baird," "Almost a
7rlminal," " Leonora's Legacy," c.

CHAPTER XXII.
LAND AT LAST.
Land is proclaimed, 'tis a glorious Bonn I !
You gallant vessel is homeward bound;
See on her deck gay numbers pour,
Seeking a glimpse of their native shore. --iIEMANS.
Dn. TWIST was thinking of the dead girl as he watched
the sun go down into the waves—thinking, perhaps,
of her brief, suddenly ended life, and of the witching
beauty of the face he had helped to compose for its
last sleep among old ocean's treasures —for Ursula
Rhodes had looked very beautiful in death; more so
than she had ever appeared in life—the hard expres-
sion had gone out of her face, and the glitter
out of her eyes. It was these eyes—large, soft, and
wide open, as he had seen them when he was sum-
moned to her bedside—that Dr. Twist seemed to
see in his waking dream now. Beryl was sitting at
a little distance from him, very pale and still, but
quiet and composed now. All her wild excitement had
passed away with the return of her strength and the
settled weather, and though she was extremely quiet
and reserved, and rarely entered into conversation
with any of her fellow-passengers, she was by no
means sad and depressed. She seemed to have grown
older since her bereavement, and to have changed
from a girl to a woman.
The ladies in the saloon thought her proud; it
seemed so strange that she should never speak of eithr
her past life or her future prospects, and they
talked atout her a good deal among themselves. Beryl
never heeded them. She was mostly alone, as Dr.
Twist saw her now, and he sat regarding her with a
queer, puzzled look.
•' What is it that I cannot read ?" he asked himself,
as he watched the slight figure in its black draperies.
I'm beginning to think I'm monomania; and that the
subject of my distemper is Miss Beryl Atherstone.
Let me think. I saw those two girls together once—
both with their faces distinctly. I see the other living
before me now. Great Heaven !" he exclaimed, sud-
denly starting as if stung by some sudden pang. "I
see it now t I know ! I recolloct ! The boy Blogg
was right—the Psyche is haunted, and by a ghost
that is a herald of a terrible tissue of evil."

Beryl was looking straight at him, with all the light
of her beautiful eyes come back to them, and a wist-
ful look in her pretty face. She did so much wish to
conciliate Dr. Twist, and, for some reason or other,
he was so hard to her.

And so the days wore on, rnd the Psyche's
voyage grew to be nearly over, and the passengers
began to rouse themselves, and to cast aside the
.bored ennui which had crept over them, in the
prospect of soon setting foot on land once more.
The dingy deshabille of the long voyage was consigned
to the limbo of boxes and carpet bags, or given to
the stewardess (who is usually endowed with enough
old clothes to set up a wardrobe shop at the end of a
long voyage) and ladies who had hitherto declared
themselves dying began to think of cuffs and collars,
and all the nameless etceteras which are burdens too
great to wear while the ship is tossing and heaving a
thousand miles away at sea.
Beryl alone seemed little excited by the approach-
ing change. The idea of sighting England was rather
depressing than otherwise; to land alone without a
friend near her—to be welcomed to a house she had
never seen, the sound of whose name had a painful
association for her—with no mother's loving voice to
encourage her—no father's hand to sustain her, was a
dismal prospect, which might well have discouraged a
stouter heart than hers.
She speculated earnestly on what her unknown
relatives would be like, and how they would receive
her—whether with grave courtesy or genial affection;
but there was a secret triumph in her heart at the
thought of Atherstone Grange.
"They must receive me well," she thought. "lam
going home, to my own."
Captain Bolton warmed to a new interest in his
lovely passenger as they neared home. He hada wife
and fair young daughters anxiously waiting for his
return, and he begged Beryl, if, by any chance, her
relations did not come to meet her, to come home
'with him until she had communicated with them.
"Mrs. Bolton would be very glad to see you, my
dear," .he said. "Excuse my being so familiar, but
you seem almost like one of my own girls."
"You are very kind," Beryl faltered, "and I wish
I had a father like you, Captain Bolton; but they are
almost sure to meet me. I'm not much afraid on that

score, but -I'm very lonely—very."
"Of course you are, and no wonder; but you won't
be lonely long. Miss Atherstone, with a fortune and
a fine estate, needn't go begging friends.'
"For flatterers and todies she needn't," said Beryl,
sadly. "They always haunt wealth. I'm afraid I
shall not find many such friends as you \lave been to
Heigho ! I sometimes wish I was the old
Beryl Atherstone once more, getting my living on the
boards, and with no duties save for the generous
public, who always had a smile for me. You knew I
was an actress, didn't you?"
"I did. Your story was the least bit romantic,
you know, and such things become public property
in no time."
" Ah, I wonder what the people I am going to will
think of it all. My mother brought me up to believe
that the stage was an honourable profession. I hear
that these Atherstones look upon actors and actresses
as lost souls, and the stage door of a theatre as the
entrance to the pit of Tophet."
"I expect they will find it expedient to forget all
their prejudices, and to condone all the heiress's
Shortcomings in that respect,' said the captain,
smiling. "There's the first sight of England, Miss
Atherstone."
"Where ?" exclaimed Beryl, with eager, excited
eyes, rising and coming forward to see what he pointed
at.
"There, on the port—that long line of white, with
.the sun shining on it. Looks like a good emen, don't
it?"
"What is it? What place? I was so young when
I left that all the English coast seems like an ill-defined
dream to me."
"That's the Lizard. The Land's End is away
yonder—west nor' west. We don't sight that if we
can help it—it's not a healthy place for ships. We
Shall pass the Star and Portland Bill in the night, and
to-morrow morning, pleaso God, will put you all
ashore at Southampton."
"And I shall be the forlornest girl in all England,"
Beryl said, giving him the full benefit of her eyes.
"I wonder whether we shall ever meet again."
"I hope so, I'm sure. Don't you, Twist ?"
The doctor had come up to where they were talking,
and stood eyeing the Lizard, glass in hand.
"Miss Atherstone is wondering whether we shall
Meet again. I'm sure I hope we shall. The com-
mencement of our acquaintance has been unfortunate,
but I should be sorry if it were to drop."
Dr. Twist looked his very stiffest as he replied that
it was extremely improbable he should ever see the
lady any more, and his tone unmistakably infers ad
that he did not wish it.
She could not win him, try as she would, and
Captain Bolton puzzled himself not a little about it.
On the very last night of the voyage, when every
lapping wave that touched the Psyche's side
Seemed a welcoming voice to England, he asked his
friend once more what the heiress had done to offend
him.
"Nothing," was the laconic reply.
"You speak to her with such studied coldness. Have
You quarrelled ?"
"I have hardly been intimate enough with the
young lady to quarrel with her."
"I was hoping you'd have volunteered to take her
to her people, supposing they are not forthcoming

when we land."
"I should prefer not to interfere in her affairs in
any way."
"By Jove, what a tone!"
"And I have pressing business of my own to attend
which will take me away at once."
"So have I business; but if no one meets that poor
young thing, I shall put it aside and see her safe to
her journey's end. You're almost sure to meet her
again, sometime, Twist. You go to Warwickshire
pretty often, don't you ?"
"I hope I never shall. If I thought it likely /
would never set foot in Warwickshire again—never."
"Twist 1"
"Oh, I'm not mad; you needn't stare at me like
that. I wish—and you'll wish it too sometime, mark
nay words—that this girl and her expectations had
never set foot on board the Psyche."
"I can't understand you. You must be losine your
Bensea."

"No, I'm not. Mark me, Bolton, so sure as we
hear of Beryl Atherstone again, so sure we shall hear
of misery and trouble attached to her name."
"Twist's going to have a fever or something,'
soliloquised the captain, as they parted for the night.
In the morning, Beryl's eyes opened on the green
hills and white cliffs of the Isle of Wight on one side,
and the busy bustling harbour of Southampton on the
Other. She had lain awake, tossing and wishing for
the light till nearly dawn, and feeling as though she
Should never close her eyes more, and then, when she
_ _ _ _ _ _

seemed the wakefullest, sleep came upon her suddenly,
as it does to criminals before the scaffold or the rack,
and she slept heavily, dreamlessly till it was broad day-
light, and nearly everyone was astir.

"You're being askeci for, miss," said the stewardess,
When she brought Beryl a cup of coffee. "Will you
get up?"
"Who is asking for me? Where?"
"A lady and tw.) gentleman, on deck, Milli& You'd
better let me help yc,u dress. Your hands seem to
Ithakeja bit."

"Yes; I'm nervous; it is all so strange. What is
the lady Like?"
" .dsome lady, miss—motherly-looking, and so
ilLli"
" t. •V MUM be my aunt," said Beryl, thoughtfully.
I‘-illthe gentlemen nice, Mrs. Braham ?"
"(be
D 3 very htridsome, miss —he's the lady's son,
hear. The other is quite an old man, with white
sir. They say he is Mr. Carson's father, and he
--1-!filt_ilaF taw jr.;„-r,....,,..„0ub1e. I heard the captain

ing nun that all his luggage was on board, and that his
remaining behind was certainly an ac-Aent."
"Of course it was, and a very awkward one. He
will be sure to come by the next ship."
"Th kt's what the captain says, miss; but the
poor old gentleman don't seem to believe it, some-
how."

"I'm so sorry, poor old man," said Beryl. "It is
a miserable thing for him to be so disappointed, though
I cannot think that anything has happened to his son
beyond mere detention. I wonder if my aunt will
come cown to see me—l suppose she is my aunt—l
should like bi see her before I go on deck."
"Come dcwn !" sa d the stewardess, with a smile.
" Why, bless your heart, miss, I have had hard work
to keep her from coming before. There she is, in the
saloon, this minute." •
Almost before Beryl had time to speak she was
clas,ped in the arms of a kind-looking, mtddle-aged
lady, richly but plainly dressed, who kissed her over
and over again, anti called her "her poor child, her
dear Beryl."
It was very pleasant, this dreaded meeting, and
tears stood in the girl's eyes as she returned the
caress.

"I should have known you anywhere for an Ather-
stone," the lady said. Can you guess who I am, my
dear?"

"My aunt," faltered Beryl.
"Well, hardly—cousin would have been nearer the
mark but call me aunt if you like it better."
"Oh, I do, I do. It seems nearer to mother, and I
have lost my mother," Beryl said, with a fresh burst of
tears.

"I know, I know, dear. We will not speak of that
now. You shall tell me all about it when we are
comfortably settlei at Atherstone. What a terrible
voyage you seem to have had! The captain has been
telling me all about your misfortunes."
"Yes; wasn't it dreadful?" said the girl, with a
shiver. "First, Mr. Carson seemed to desert me, and
then poor Ursula. I thought I should have cited,
too."

"We will try and make you forget all about such
wretched things now, my child," Mrs. Atherstone
said. "Come and be introduced to your cousin
Noel. There's a warm welcome waiting for you, I can
assure you."
"It seems too good to be true," said Beryl, smiling,
though her eyes were full of tears. "I hope it isn't
all a dream, and I shall wake at Melbourne, in my old
busy life, or out at sea all alone with my dreadful
sorrow."

"It's no dream, my dear. A fortune and a home
are waiting for you here. I only hope you may be
long spared to enjoy them."
Beryl's toilet was finished now, and her aunt put
her arm round her and led her upon deck. A very
handsome young man, strikingly like herself, save
that he had dark eyes and complexion, sprang forward
to meet them.

"Is this my cousin, mamma, dear ?" holding out
his hands.

"Yes, my boy, here she is. Beryl, my love, this is
my son, your cousin Noel."
Beryl's hands were taken warmly, and the handsome
face, with its earnest, loving eyes, was bent down to
hers till the full red lips touched her forehead.
"Welcome to England, dear cousin," the young man
said.

"She is her father's own daughter, is she not?'
Mrs. Atherstone remarked. "A true Atherstone."

"She is wonderfully like the old squire," her son
replied. "I hardly remember my cousin Leonard,
you forgetful old lady. Why, I was only about two
or thereabouts when he left Atherstone for good."
"To be sure; what was I thinking about ?" said
the lady. "Mr. Carson, this is Miss Atherstone."
"You need not have told me that; her face pro-
claims it," said the lawyer. "I am very glad to see
you, my dear, though my anxiety respecting my poor
boy makes my greeting something of a sad one. The
news that he has not on board with you has been a
terrible shock to me; and at my time of life a
shock is a bad thing."
Beryl's sweet tones, and gentle words went far to
reassure the old lawyer. She told him how his son
had been suddenly summoned to speak to someone,
that was all; but he was quite well and in good
spirits, and certainly had not an euemy in Melbourne
who could wish to detain him.
Her words and manner did more to cheer the old
man than a whole volume of sympathy and assurance
from anybody else, and he roused wonderfully under
her influence. The party asked Captain Bolton to
dine with them, but he declined with cordial thanks.
His wife would want him, he said, the minute he could
leave the Psyche.
Nor would Dr. Twist accept of any hospitality at
the hands of the heiress and her friends, He declined
the invitation in a manner more curt than polite; and
Noel Atherstone set him down as the most disagree-
able man he had ever seen.

"My business will take me away at once," he said,
"so I must beg you to excuse me. I have prepared a
written statement of all I know concerning the death
of Miss Ursula Rhodes. May I beg you to keep it,
madam."

"But I don't want to know any more about it,"
Mrs. Atherstone said. "The poor thing was nothing
to us; and we will send her things back to her friends
when we get home."
" I think it would be wise to keep the paper madam.
Good morning, madam; good morning, Miss Ather-
stone. I congratulate you on your safe arrival, and
the old Psyche here on having brought us all alive
and well to England once more."
"Is he crazy ?" asked Mrs. Atherstone, looking
after his retreating figure. "What a disagreeable,
impertinent man."
"I've thought him so all through the voyage, auntie
dear," said Beryl. "Captain Bolton says he means
everything kindly; but if he does he has the qwerest
way of showing it I ever saw."
(To be continued.)