The Birmingham age-herald., 1909-05-09


 Mir Tulkinghorn. He laughed at her and she shot him. and we have her comics sion."
 Inspector Bucket paused. Then he took her hand again. My dear" he said. T am following Lady Dedlock with you be- cause you are young lady for whom she has tenderness. I say no more than that, and I ask no questions
 Esther summerson trembied. The in spector looked at her keenly. My dear" said he, "excuse me if I seem too familiar Don't you be afraid. We'll find her for you, we will"
 He shouted to the drivers He ordered fast horses to precede them and have re- lays ready for them. He kept Esthers mind busted with his orders, his talk his questions, watching her anxlously always lest she should break down. They stopped at inns and police stations and strange | dark corners where mysterious figures held mysterious conversations with In- spector Bucket, helped by his impressive forefnger. They whirled into the mire of black country roads-on and through the night. and then turned suddenly and drove | back as furiousy, entering London just | before dawn.
 At last Inspector Bucket, returning from | one of his mysterious. talks, came to i the carriage with an altered air. His | hurry was all gone, but he did not seem the brighter for it. Quietly he asked Esther to alight and come with him. | He led the way to a dark and miserable arch, where a feeble light was burning ] miserably over an iron gate that showed | a. wretched graveyard beyond. He laid his hand on her arm and stopped her for a moment Other figures surrounded them. | She heard the voice of Allan Woodcourt, the young doctor. They murmured some i thing that she could not hear for her | eyes were fixed on the figure of woman | lying in the nire under the archway, and her heart seemed to stop beating. Then she knew that Inspector Bucket was speaking. Shall we let her go?" he | asked.
 l "Yes," answered the voice of Allan l woodcourt Her hands should be the l first to touch her They have better | right than ours"
 Her arm was released. She passed to
 
 | the heavy head, put the long, dark hair aside and turned the face. It was Lady ! Dedlocl, cold and dead; and Esther Sum- merson knew that this was her mother. l l Esther Summerson was i'll, but not for long They surrounded her with such love, such devotion. that ia very grati- | tude she had to recover as soon as pos sible and be their Dame Durden again.
 When she was well John Jarndyce asked | her when they should give Bleak House it's mistress. She answered, Next | month."
 When the date approached he asked her to accompany him to look at a little house | that he had bought and fitted up for AL Ian Woodcourt. "He has been so good to Richard and Ada, and such help to us all." said John Jarndyce, that I want to show my gratitude. So have taken it into my head that may ask him to accept a modest little place.
 She cried and laughed at the same time and kissed him and tried to tell him how dear and good and admirable he was. l Together they went over the house. that | was arranged just as she had always liked things. and through the flower gar den, where the beds were laid out Just as they had been laid out by her at Bleak | House.
 And now, little woman," said John Jarndyce, smiling at her fondly, flor the name of this house."
 He led her to the porch and he showed her. written over it, the words. Bleak House."
 My own darling girl" said John Jarndyce. taking her hand in his ..I dreamed of making you my wife. Then. one day I saw with whom you would be happier. Dame Burden. penetrated your secret. I have beeen in possession of Allen Woodcourt's confidence long time, although he has been in mine only a few hours. know that you would have been contended and happy with me, being so devoted but know whom you love. This day l give this house it's little mistress, and, before God//it is the brightest day in all my life!'
 He turned and Allen Woodcourt came from the house and stood before them.
 Take her, take her." said John Jarn- | dyce. He kissed her and moved away. Stopping in the sunlight. that made a brigh tness as of the angels on his head, he said, cheeringly:
 It's a west wind, little woman, due vest"
 Next Sundays one-page classic will be the life and strangely surprising ad- | ventures of Robinson Crusoe of York. It will be retold from the original edi- | t,r In