Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-09-23


ley had not himself told her on the night
before he went away.
Did he give you any other instructionsy'
asked Mary. -.
Yes, miss. He said 1 was to bring q
couple of policemen to the distiilery. DC
you think L had better do it?'
Mary thought for a minute. Wortlsy's
absence might not be due to foul play, OF
even to an accident; and really the ground
for suspecting either was probably only in
her and the little chauffeurs nervous fears!
she did not even know what his plan was.
lie might be staying away purposely anu
Il she allowed the police to come she might
be running everything by officious interfer-
ence,. for which he would not thank her. =,
NO., she said. I'VE must walt. But II
ne does not come tomorrow, or send word
either TO you or to me, we will discuss the
matter again. I'm glad you spoke to me-
Il shall be in the coach house II am
wanted. miss, day or night" said Sims as
he left her. Il sleeping there now, by
Sir Eustace's orders"
Mary dld not go up to her mothers room
at once The little mans nervousness rad
infected her, and she wanted a few min
utes to calm her misgivings. If possible, be-
lore meeting Lady Holland; for the dow
i'Sef eyes were sharp, and the girl did
rot want to have to give reasons for wear.
Ing look of anxiety. She was really
ANXIOUS, and when she realized suddenly
that it was for Wortley himself that she
was anxious, and not merely because he
was necessary for her plans she got
shock which was unexpected For hitherto
She had insisted in her own mind on the
theory that she disliked him. and was an
cry with him, and even despised him some.
what; and it was disquieting and sur
prislng revelation to find now that she
could be painfully anxious merely because
ne did not come back when he said he
would.
A few minutes later she got a greater
shock than that and the woman who was
TO infict it was coming, up the beech ave
nue. now.
Mary was standing by the fire in the
nttle study when the door was opened and
i maid announced:
Lady Holland"
EuStace's widow, as usual, played her
part boldly She did not know how much
Nortiey had told the girl, but she counted
eoincently on the probability that he had
winch her husband had written She had
not made Wisemans mistake of thinking
Oh nm meaniy, and judging his motives by
neF own; she had acumen enough to be-
iieVe that he had fallen into his scrape in
the beginning partly because he held ouix-
otlC views about the obligations of friend
SNIP and partly from sheer love of reck-
less excitement; but she believed also
mat the girl at Holland Abbey had very
soon become the most powerful of his mo-
ives. stu, to protect Mary, it was not
necessary to betray Ellen, if Ellen ceased
to be a danger That was why she had
promised to meet him at Elgin station: she
meant him to believe that she was no
longer dangerous, and she thought she had
succeeded: and she had sufficient faith in
MS quixottc honor to believe that Mary,
therefore, knew nothing of the last letter
"hich the real Sir Eustace had written.
She came forward confidently, saving:
suppose you are surprised to see me,
put couldn't help coming. My dear girl.
L am sorry for you."
Mary thought that she was Offering con-
dolences on her mothers illness, and re-
membering how that illness had begun,
marVeled at the woman's effrontery
Il understood that you had gone back to
London. she said coldly.
On, Eustace didn't meet me at the sta
ton as he had promised he would so l
didn't go. But, my dear, you can't think
how l.
Why do you speak of him as Eustace?"
Mary interrupted.
DO you know that he isn't?"
leave an heir. Why do you come here?
You can hardly hope to carry out your
trick noW."
Ellen looked at the girl sharply. Did
she know the whole truth about the sub
stitute heir, or not? She dare not ask, and
yet she would have given a great deal to
be sure of how much exactly Wortley had
told.
Il have come she repeated. because 1
am sorry for you and wanted to tell you
so. But think you can't yet have heard
your eyes would not be dry"
Again Mary felt "a shudder of fear. for
there was something in the woman's voice
besides the pity which she expressed
there was an undercurrent of malicious
triumph too, and without knowing why
the girl WINGED at the sound of it.
What's your news" she asked
Arthur Wortley has been killed.
Mary shrank back with a cry, as though
Eustace's wife had struck her. Arthur
Wortley dead! The words seemed silly. so
cred her face with her hands and then
suddenly looked up in wde-eyed horror at
the woman; and she thought that she saw
the traces of smile about her lips, hastily
concealed a their pl1ncpS
You are telling me a lie!" she cried.
He is not dead!''
His car has been found in the river DIVE,
smashed to pieces after fall down a bank
forty feet high. | heard the dreadful news
In Elgin, and came straight out to tell you.
You and l are not friends, but won't you
believe how sorry l am for you? / knew
that you loved him.
II did not!' cried Mary. "I-'' she stop
ped, and then went on wildly: How could
love him? 1 didn't. tell you. How can
that he Is dead! 1t can't be!'
Il wish for your sake that there could be
any doubt" Lady Holland answered grave
y; for child, though you deny it, l am
sure that you loved him. And l know that
he loved you. But there is no doubt. The
accident happened at terrible place, they
say. The road crosses the river where II
flows through a deep gorge, just before it
joins the Findhorn. There is a steep hill
down to the bridge, with sharp turn. His
car broke through the wooden fence on the
south side. and crashed down upon the
rocks beneath
HAS his-has he been found?'
mo But there are men dragging the
| pool below the Divie bridge, and the next
| one where the Findhorn and the DIVE join.
There is not much water in either river just
| now, and they say that the current can't
| have carried the body below that 1t is
very terribe!''
Mary started up in Il sudden burst of pas
sion
II don't believe 1t is true!'' she cried wild
| ly. He can't be dead! But If he is, he
has been MISUNDERSTANDING by Harvey
Wiseman.-or by you! How dare you come
| here and pretend to pity me? Cor
(To be continued tomorrow
A., EHect;vo Sor,pJo