White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1923-08-17
INSTALLMENT NO. IA.

over ny lne llldICi VI iiouSlu PioS'
ress. which are still to be found in
the near neighborhood OF London.
Only the slow trains stopped at the
station; and there was so little to do
that the stationmaster and his porter
grew flowers on the embankme nt,
and trained creepers over the waiting
room window. Turning your back on
the railway, and walking along the
one street of South Morden, you
found yourself in the old England OF
two centuries since. Gabled cottages,
with fast-closed windows; pigs and
poultry in quiet possession of the
road the venerable church sur
rounded by it's shady battle-ground;
the grocer's shop which sold every-
thing, and the butchers shop which
sold nothing; the scarce inhabitants
who liked a good look at stranger
and the unwashed children who were
pictures of dirty health; the clash of
the iron chained bucket in the pub
lie we'll and the thump of the fall
ing ninepins in the skittle ground be-
hind the public house; the horse
pond on one bit of open ground, and
the old elm tree with the wooden
seat around it on the other side
these were some of the objects that
you saw and some OF the noises that
you heard in South Morden, as you
passed from one end of the village to
the other.
About half mile beyond the last
Of the old cottages modern England
met you again under the form of a
row of little villas, set up by an ad-
venturous London builder who had
bought the land at bargain. Each
villa stood in it's own little garden
and looked across a stony road at the
meadow lands and softly rising
you nthe sunshine with the horried
glare of new red brick, and forced its
nonsensical name on your attention
traced in bright paint on the posts of
it's entrance gate. Consulting the
posts as he advanced, Mr.. Troy ar.
rived in due course of time at the
villa called The Lawn, which derived
it's name apparently from circular
patch of grass in front of the house
The gate resisting his efforts to
open 1T, he rang the bell.
Admitted by trim, clean, shy lit
tie maid servant, Mr.. Troy looked
about him in silent amazement. Turn
which way he might, he found him
self silently confronted by posted and
painted instructions to visitors, which
forbade him to do this, and command
ed him to do that, at every step oil
his progress from the gate to the
house. On one side of the lawn a la
bel informed him that he was not to
walk on the grass. On the other
side painted hand pointed along q
boundary wall to an inscription which
warned him to go that way If he had
business in the kitchen. On the gray
ell walk at the foot of the housesteps
words, neatly traced in little white
shells, reminded him not to forget
the scraper" On the doorstep he was
informed, in letters of lead, that he
was welcome" On the mat in the
passage bristly black words burst or
his attention, commanding him to
wipe his shoes" Even the hat-stand
in the hall was not allowed to speak
for itself; it had Hats and Cloaks'
inscribed on it, and it issued it's d
rections imperatively in the matter
Of your wet umbrella-"Put it heren
Giving the trim little servant his
card Mr. Troy was introduced to a
reception room on the lower floor Be
fore he had time to look round him
the door was opened again from with
cut, and Isabel stole into the room
ON tiptoe She looked worn and anx.
the old lawyer the charming smile
that he remembered so we'll was
gone.
Don't say you have seen me" she
whispered. II am not to come into
the room till my aunt sends for me.
Tell me two things before l run away
again. How is Lady Lydiard? And
have you discovered the theft"
Lady Lydiard was well when | last
saw her. and we have not yet sue
ceeded in discovering the thief" Hav-
ing answered the qeustions in those
ing Isabel on the subject of the
steward while he had the chance
One question on my SIDE" he said,
holding her back from the door by
the. arm. DO you expect Moody to
visit you here?"
az am sure he will visit me-" Isabel
answered warmly. HE has promised
to come here, at my request. / never
knew what kind heart Robert
Moody had till this misfortune fell
on me. My aunt, who is not easily
taken with strangers, respects and
admires him. can't tell you how
good he was to me on the journey
here, and how kindly, how nobly, he
spoke to me when we parted" She