Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1910-03-25

lOT. silt tObi1 uOl Dt OAc VI lit
servants. He was sure of that. But
when you find a person about the
grounds of a private house. apparent
" quite at home. and they reply when
asked If they live there. mot exact
ly," what is one to infer? She couldn't
be a guest. Who was there for her
to visit? Nor q boarder.
Strikes me l ought to take a cen
sus," commented the Cherub.
Going back to the house. he rang a
bell until Eppings appeared, heavy
eyed and lugubrious.
Breakfast ready YETI"
Breakfast, sir? It's rather early.
sir. but
early! It's the middle of the fore
noon. Go stir things up in the kitch-
en-
As Eppings departed the hall clock
ehimed Z. The Cherub grinned. He
had not b~reakfasted at 7 for years. In
less than an hour, though, breakfast
was an accomplished fact. and Mr..
Devine, now soothed by one of his
black cigars, set out for a more ex-
tended tour of the grounds. He dis
covered the path leading to the sound
and had spent some time on the porch
of the boathouse watching the steam
ers and coasting vessels crawl past
when Timmins came down. evidently
in search of him.
Maybe | didn't mention last night.
sir" began Timmins ~suavely, ANY
thing about the Hewingtons?'
Il guess you didn't, Timmins."
"The fact is, sir, they haven't gone
Haven't gone! Why. where are
they?"
Back at the house. sir. It's all on
account of the old lady. sir. Mr.. Hew-
ington's sister, who has took so bad
she couldn't be moved. Perhaps r.
ITS all right. There's Mr.. Hewing-
ton and his sick sister, is there? That
all?"
And the Countess Vecchi. sir"
"The which," Mr.. Devine grabbed
the cigar from between his teeth and
turned quickly On Timmins.
1.-THE Countess Vecchi, sir, as stayed
to look after the aunt. The countess is
the married daughter. sir. The count
been dead two years. sir. and'-here
Timmins coughed alphabetically be.
hind his haLd-"the H~ewingtons want
precisely sorry re- lose him"
Not a how'll ing success. eh?"
Hardly. sir. The countess left him
two hours after the wedding"
'She must be a hummer" observed
the Cherub. and then retiectively
"Countesses are hardly i'll my line
Guess you can hook up pretty 0 o
and drive me back to the station.
don't want to disturb the old lady,
Lord, sir, you won't see any OF
them! No sooner did they hear you
were coming than they moved into the
top floor of the east wing, and there
they've shut themselves up like the
house was ~quarantined. Besides, sir,
there isn't another express you could
get to the city until the 1898 tonight"
"Oh. well. there's plenty of time
then! Perhaps you'll be able to dig up
some more reports before nlght.2
Mr.. Devine was thinking of the
young person he had seen in the gar
den. 1t didn't matter who she was, of
course, but it might be interesting to
know.
The day passed, however, without
further discoveries, although at any
moment the Cherub was prepared to
find himself confronted either by Mr..
Hewington or the countess or the
young woman of the roses or some
wholly unknown person.
He had seated himself for another
solitary and stately meal when a bell
rang somewhere, and Eppings excused
himself to answer it. Then ensued out
in the reception hall a whispered con-
v~ersation, part of which Mr.. Devine
could hardly avoid hearing. although
he was certain it was not intended for
his ears.
lis that-that dreadful man In
there?" asked a voice.
Eppings reappeared to announce i'm
pressively, 1.-The Countess Vecchi. sir.
"Oh, the devil!' Mr.. Devine grab
bed his napkin end from between the
second and third buttons of his waist
coat and dropped it across his left
knee. He had a vague notion that all
COuhlSSoSo WeIe ldISe, olOuI WOLucu
who wore crowns of some sort, ermine
trimmed robes and a multitude of
rings.
Through the doorway stepped the
big eyed, slender young person whom
he had seen before breakfast in the
garden. She wore neither crown nor
ermine robes. The braid of dark hair
had been transformed into a simple
but effective setting for the long oval
of her face.
Hello! You?" he exclaimed. Say,
honest, o aren't the countess. are
your"
She bowed an admission of the fact,
evidently much disconnected by this
greeting.
well, I'll be hanged" continued
Mr.. Devine. Say, have a seat, wont