The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1886-05-08 00:00:00

[ALL RIGHTS BEsEaviu). j
THE HEIRESS

ATHERSTONE GRANGE.

BY TUB AUTHOR OF

"Allan Thornton," "Effie Baird," "Almost a
Criminal," " Leonora's Legacy," 4.c.

CHAPTER IX.
THE PLAY.
The play's the thing
Wherewith we'll touch the conscience of the King.
—SIIAKESPEARIL
THE day wore on, and the hour for Beryl's appearance
once more upon the stage drew on apace. She was
feverishly nervous, both on her own account and the
child's, but the little girl herself was confident and
eager for her work. Every one had predicted a success
for her, and Mr. Masters had taken off her hat and ex-
amined her long hair critically. It was particularly
beautiful in texture and quality, darker than her
mother's, and with a golden gleam running through it,
that promised to be a splendid auburn when she grew
to be a woman. He had asked particularly about her
dress too, and Beryl had described it to him, much to
his satisfaction. The property man had shown her
the gorgeous chariot in which she was to make her
descent from the clouds to the lower world, so that
altogether Miss Dot was in a state of extreme excite-
ment and delight.
Leonard roused himself from his depression,
stimulated by the wire and generous food they took
home with them, and declared himself well enough to
go with them to the theatre. His wan face had an
ominous flush upon it, and his attenuated limbs
seemed hardly able to support him, but he was cheer-
ful, and evidently bent upon looking his best.
His worn suit was very threadbare and shabby, but
he looked every inch a gentleman, in spite of the
white seams and frayed edges that not even Beryl's
skilful manipulation could conceal. The loungers
about the door touched their hats to him respectfully
as he went in. They knew him in a moment to be one
of the real sort, not the shams to be found on the stage.
Leonard Atherstone's graceful manners and polished
address were not picked up at the wings, and.aired in
the world afterwards—they were genuine.
The hsAlkeeper stopped him as he passed in—Beryl
;and the child in front of him.
"A• letter for you, sir," he said.
He held out a business-looking envelope, addressed
in a hand recognised at cnce.
"It should have hee' given to Mrs. Atherstone this
morning," the man went on in apology; "but Mr.
Masters was with her when she went out, and it quite
slipped my memory. I hope it is not of any great
consequence, sir."
"None, thank you," Leonard replied, thrusting it
into his pocket. "The delay does not signify."
He knew Mr. Carson's handwriting and guessed it
was an answer to his letter. A flush passed over his
face as he thought of it. What did it contain? Had
his father relented at last and sent them the help
they so much needed? The very thought in his weak
• state made him tremble, and he was shaking all over
when he rejoined Beryl on the stage for a moment
'fore she went to her dressing-room.
What has happened, Len, dear ?" she asked, in
alarm, when she saw his white face. "Are you
"No, dear. Why?'
"You are so pale—ghastly!"
"Am I? It is the stairs—and a letter, dear. There
was one waiting for me inthe hall."
"From—"
"From my father's lawyer, dear. "Don't let the
thought of it worry you. I have not opened it yet."
"I won't think of it," she said, with a smile. "
he brave, and put it all out of my head till the night's
over. You sit there, and Dot and I will be oft up-
stairs."
She went with him to the green room door, and in-
troduced him to two or three of the company who had
dropped in, saw him ensconced in a, comfortable corner
and left him. One word she whispered in his ear
before she quitted the room.
"Don't mind anything they say, Len, dear," she said,
indicating the other persons in the corner. "They will
talk."
"I know," he replied; "but talk does not kill any-
one. I shan't mind them."
Beryl sighed, as she remembered the morning and
how sensitive Leonard was.
The company were dropping in early on purpose to
see her and her husband, about whom there had been
much gossip in the theatre, and their remarks were
not of the most flattering order.
In the dressing-room when she reached it talk was
, running high—the theme herself and her little
daughter. Nobody saw her enter, and she had the fell
benefit of the lady's remarks. A fair tat girl, very busy
in front of her glass, had her name on her lips as she
• entered.
" Did anyone hear such a name to give to a child ?"
she was saying, "Beryl Margaret Atherstone! Why, the
Atherstenes are quite a a great family, not far from
Warwick. I've seen their place lots of times. And
' who's Miss Joyce, I should like to know? They're
not real names anyone can see that."
A black-eyed woman from the other side of the
room answered the speaker without turning her
- head.
"You haven't been in the profession long, Nellie
Hayes, or you'd have heard of Beryl Joyce. Her
name's a real one, at any rate; or at least it s the one
• she's always gone by. Old Whiffin's wife picked her
up out of a ditch somewhere, and brought her up. I
• remember her as quite a little girl, and I've heard my
mother talk of her being found many a time. She
finished up by marrying some young swell, and going
out of the profession altogether."
"I think you can remember the flood, Bella Cooke,"
replied the other girl spitefully. you can re-
member this Miss Joyce as a child, I should think you
must be jolly old. Why, she looks as old as my
mother herself."
"She isn't. She's under thirty. I'm sure. She's
had a deal of trouble I should fancy, by her looks."
" Alt, those swell marriages come t 3 grief some-
times! I shan't marry till a prince of the blood comes
for me, but I don't believe the story, Bella, not a bit.
It'a just a bit of romance got up to make her a
success. I daresay, if the truth was known, she's
plain Mrs. Smith or Jones. Oh, lor ?
Her last exclamation was caused by the sudden
apparition of Beryl, standing close by her, with the
child by her side.
Miss Cooke had seen her, and put up a warning
finger, but too late to stop Nelly Hayes's tongue ; and
the girl knew by the flush on Beryl's cheeks and the
quiver on her lips that her heedless words had been
overheard. There was no other sign cf annoyance,
and the new-comer greeted the ladies with perfect
equanimity. When the dresser had left the room, she
turned to Nelly.
"You did not intend me to hear what you said, my
dear," she said, quietly; "arid I would not have heard
it, but that Dot here heard it too. Our name is Ather-
stone. My husband is the son of Mr. Atherstone of
the Grange. A simpler-sounding name would, perhaps,
have been better for the stage; but we did not care
for our little girl to enter the profession under any
false pretenees."
The girl was quite touched by the gentleness of
Beryl's words and manner, and apologised so humbly
for her incautious speech that she quite won Mrs.
Atherstone's heart.
"Of course you did not mean anything," Beryl said.
"What you said was quite natural, and but that I
happened to come in an inopportune moment, I should
have known nothing about it."
She betook herself to her dressing and talked so
pleasantly with them all that the contretemps was soon
forgotten. She dressed herself with such skill and
care that it was evident her hand had not lost its
cunning in personal adornment, and her handsome
dress fitted her to perfection. A few careful touches
restored the bloom to her pale cheeks, and made her
still fine hair fall in all its old graceful luxuriance, and
then she turned her attention to Dot's toilette. She
would have but little time during the piece, for
BOscdind is on the stage almost throughout, so she
prepared the child as far as she could, dressing her all
but the satin frock and the wreath which was to
crown her pretty hair.
"Now, we'll go down to papa, dear," she said,
"I shall have the pleasure of introducing you, la-lies,
to my husband, by and by;' she added, with a smile
to Nellie Hayes. "Mr. Smith will be glad to know
you."
" Ah, don't tell him, please, Mrs. Atherstone !" they
pleaded.
"1 won't, but I won't answer for Dot," Beryl
replied. "If I were say Don't tell,' the secret would
become too big a burden for her little brains directly,
and it would be sure to come out. Mr. Atherstone
will only laugh at it if she does name it."
She was in better spirits now. With the putting on
of her dress, some of the old fun had come back, and

she was sure of herself. She knew she should not N.'
tO. play the part creditably at least, and she meant to
do more.
Leonard was alone in the green room, with a moody
look upon his face. She saw something was wrong,
and went softly up to him.
"What is it, Len?" she asked.
"Words, dear. That is all."
"The old story, I suppose ?"
"No. My father makes both a proposal and a
promise this time, wife."
"Let me see it."
"No. Get through the evening first. It will worry
you."
"It shan't. If it is pleasant, it will help me on. If
it is insulting, it will stir me up. Give it to me, Len.
I've plenty of time. The orchestra isn't rung up
yet."
He put the letter into her hand, and drew Dot close
to his side while she took it to the gas to read it. It
was very much to the purpose. Indeed, Mr. Carson
had understood his client's directions perfectly, and
had set them down in unmistakable fashion :
" Morbey's Hotel, Charing-cross,
"London, March 21, 18—,

sa-Srit,—At the request of Pierce Atherstone, Esq., of
Atherstone Grange, I write to inform you that your
letter of the 18th ult. duly reached its destination,
and that its contents have been considered by him. I
am entrusted by him to say that he is much shocked
at having accidentally discovered the fact that it is
Your intention to suffer his granddaughter, Miss Beryl