Omaha daily bee., 1903-01-11

haN" 49,
Il had no Idea that her character was
SUCH" / remarked, rather surprised at
this statement. Hitherto I had regarded
her as quite a harmless person, who by
making a strenuous effort to obtain a foot
ing in good society often rendered herself
ridiculous in the eyes Of her friends.
Her characterl" she echoed iercely,
"She's one Of the most %evil-ton gued women
in London While posing as Bthelwynn's
friend and entertaining her beneath her
roof she actually insinuates to you the
probability Of a secret lover? Is 1t fair?
Is Il the action Of an honest and trust
worthy woman"
was compelled to admit that IL was
not. Yet was this action Of her own, in
coming to me under the present circum-
stances in any way more straightforward?
Had sho known that l was well aware OF
the secret existence OF her husband she
would assuredly not have dared to speak
in the manner she had done Indeed. as
I sat there facing her, a slim, sweet-faced
interesting figure in her we'll made mourn
ing. l could scarcely believe it possible
that she could act the imposture so per-
fectly. Her manner was fswiess; her
self possession marvellous.
But the motive OF II all-wtat could 1t
be? The problem had been a maddening
one from first to last.
Had you been in my place, my reader,
what would you have done? Recollect l
had witnessed a scene on the river bank
that was absolutely without explanation,
and which surpassed all human credence.
I am a matter-of-fact man, not given TO
exaggerate or to recount incidents that
have not occurred, but l confess openly and
freely that. since l had walked along that
path 1 hourly debated within myself whether
I was actually awake and In the full pos
session OF my faculties, or wether / had
dreamed the whole thing. p
But II was no dream. Certain solid facts
convinced me of it's stern and astounding
reality. The man upon whose body I helped
to make an autopsy was actually alive
In reply to ny questions my visitor told
me that she was staying at vernon's. in
Cork street-a small private hotel which
the Mivarts had patronized for many years
and that on the following morning she
intended returning again to Neneford.
Then, after she had again urged me to
lose no time in seeing Ethelwynn, and had
imposed upon me silence as to what had
passed between us, 1 assisted her into a
hanson and she drove away, waving her
black-gloved hand in farewell.
Il Nv ~ Wv" Ahho bSSA - ASe1 ChSN
and / could not in the least understand its
import. Regarded in the light of the knowl-
edge l had gained when down at Neneford.
It was, Of course, plain that both she and
her dead" husband were anxious to secure
Ethelwynn's silence, and believed they could
effect this by inducing us to marry. The
conspiracy was a deeply laid and ingenious
one, as indeed was the whole of the amaz-
ing plot. Yet, somehow. when I reflected
upon 1t on my return from the club, l could
not help sitting till far into the night try
ing to piece together the remarkable
enigma.
A telegram from Ethelwynn had reached
me at the Savage at Q o'clock, stating that
she had received my letter, and was re-
turning to town the day after tomorrow.
She had, she said, replied to me by that
nights post.
/ felt anxious to see her, to question her
and to try II possible to gather from her
some fact which would lead me to discern
a motive in the feigned death of Henry
Courtenay. But l could only walt in pa
thence for the explanation. Mary's declara-
tion that her sister possessed no other
lover besides myself treasured me. l had
not believed 1t OF her from the first. yet
it was passing strange hat such an in
lIudNaOh HhOdAd hoNS AZ " a v
Of a woman who posed as her dearest
friend.
Next day Sir Bernard came to town to
see two unusual cases at the hospital, and
afterward drove me back with him to
Harley street, where he had an appoint
ment with a German princess, who had
come to London to consult him as a spe-
cialist. AS usual, he made his lunch of
two ham sandwiches, which he had brought
with him from Victoria station refreshment
room and carried in a paper bag. l sug-
gested tha we should eat together at a
restaurant, but the old man declined, de-
claring that II he ate more than his usual
sandwiches for luncheon when in town he
never had any appetite for Inner.
So 1 left him alone in his consulting
room munching bread and ham, and slipping
at a wineglassful Of dry sherry.
About half-past 3, Just before he re-
turned to Brighton. l saw him again as
usual, to hear any instructions he wished
to give, for sometimes he saw patients
once and then left them in my hands. He
seemed wearied, and was sitting resting his
brow upon his thin bony hands. During
the day he certainly had been fully occu-
pied, and had noticed that Of late he was
unable to resist the strain as he once
could.
Aren't you well?'' I asked. when seated
before him.
oh, yes" he answered with a sigh.
There's not much the matter with me.
I'm tired, l suppose, that's all. The eternal
chatter OF these COMPOUNDED women borea
me to death. They can't tell their symp-
toms without going into all the details of
family history and domestic infeliclty," he
snapped. They think me a doctor, a law
yer and a parson rolled into one"
"oh, by the way" he said. as though sud
denly recollecting. Have you met your
friend Amber Jevons lately?'
NO" I replied. Hes been away for
some weeks, l think. Why?"
Because 1 saw hin yesterday in Kings
road. He was driving in a fly and had one
eye bandaged up. Met with an accident. /
should think"
AN accident" I exclaimed in consterna-
ton. He wrote to me the other day, but
did not mention IT,"
Hes been trying his hand at unravelling
the mystery of poor Courtenay's death.
hasn't he?" the old man asked. -
II believe So"
And failed-eh?"
II don't think his efforts have been
crowned with very much success, although
he has told me nothing" l said.
In response the old man grunted In dis