Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-02-18

Harriet, Martha, Jenny, Elizabeth.
Queenie and Holga-"
Olga" corrected the girl sitting at
the table. pencil in hand. Let us be
respectful, even to hens"
''They fetched half crown each
from Mr.. Cribs, the butcher. It's un-
Christian to call hens by name, any
how"
Audrey Bedford made rapid calcu-
lation.
with the furniture that makes 81
pounds 10 shillings," she said, which
will about pay the hen-feed man and
your wages, and leave me enough to go
70 London"
IF had my rights" said Mrs. Graf
fit, shifting tearfuliy, I'D get more
than my wages. I've looked after you
ever since before your poor, dear mother
died, obliging you as no other mortar
woman would. And now I'm cast aside
without home and I've got to live with
my eldest son."
you're lucky to have an eldest son"
said Audrey, unmoved.
IF you gave me pound 1or lucK-
Whose luck? Not mine, you dear
old humbug," laughed the girl. Mrs.
Grafitt, don't be sillyl You've been
living on this property like IA fighting
cat! Poultry farming doesn't pay and
never will pay when your chief OF stan
has a private sale for the eggs. was
working it out the other day, and l
reckoned that you've had 40 pounds
worth of eggs year."
Nobody have ever said was thief"
uuavered the old woman, her hands
trembling. i've looked after you since
YOU were 8 bit of girl and it's very
hard to be told that you're thief. she
wept gulpily into her handkerchief.
Don't cry" said Audrey. The cot
tage is damp enough"
"Where Will you be going miss?" Mrs.
Graffitt tactfully passed over the ques-
ton of her honesty.
II don't know London, perhaps"
Got any relations there, miss?"
Perhaps, at this the last moment. the
late owner of Beak Farm would be
little communicative. The Bedfords
always were closer than oysters.
Never you mind. Get me cup OF
tea and then come for your wages"
"London's a horrible place" Mrs.
Graffitt shook her head. Murders ana
suicides and robberieS and whatnots.
Why, they robbed real queen the other
night"
"Goodness!" said Audrey, mechanically.
She was wondering what had hap
Grant, had not reported upon.
Robbed her of hundreds of thousands
worth of diamonds" she said impress
sively. "You ought to read the papers
more-you miss life"
And talking of robbery" said Audrey
gently, what happened to Myrtle and
Primrose and Gwen and Bertha?"
"Oh. them?" For second even Mrs.
Grafatt was confused. Didn't give
you the money? 1t must have slipped
through hole in my pocket. I've lost
it."
Don't bother" said Audrey. "I1l
send for the village policeman-hes a
wonderful searcher."
Mrs. Grafitt found the money almost
Immediately.
The old woman shufled into the low
rooted kitchen and Audrey looked
around the familiar room. The chair
on which her mother had sat, her hard
face turned to the blackened fireplace,
Audrey had burned. One charred leg
still showed in the fire.
No, there was nothing here OF tender
memory. 1t was room of drudgery
and repression. She had never known
her father and Mrs. Bedford had never
spoken of him. He had been bad lot,
and through his wickedness had forced
a woman of gentle birth to submit to
the hard life that had been hers.
IFS he dead, mother?" the child had
asked.
Il hope So" was the Incorporating
reply.
Dora had never asked such incon-
venient questions, but then she was
older, nearer in sympathy to the woman.
shared her mercileSs nature and her
prejudices.
Mrs. Grafitt had brought her tea and
counted her money before she walled
her farewell
I'll have toSkiss you before I co."
she sobbed
"I'll give you an extra shilling not to-"
said Audrey hastily, and Mrs. Grafiitt
took the shilling.
1t was all over. Audrey passed
through the December wreckage of the
garden. opened gate and, taking a
short cut TO the churchyard, found the
grave and stood silently before it. her
hands clasped.
"Good-by," she said evenly, and then,
dry-eyed, went back to the house.
The end and the beginning. She was
not sorry; she was not very glad. Her
box of books had already gone to the
station and was booked through to the
parcels Office at Victoria.
AS to the future-she was fairly well
educated had read much, thought much
and was acquainted with the rudiments
of horthand-self taught in the long
Winter evenings, when Mrs. Grafitt
thought, and said, that she would be
better employed with knitting needles.
There's tons of time" growled the
village omnibus driver as he threw her
bag into the dark and smelly interior.
IF it wasn't for these lingering motor
u Nsx.A T1.,{ -
drive careful in these days"
A prophetic saying.
The girl was stepping into the bus
after her bag when the stranger ap-
peared. He looked like lawyers mid
dle-aged clerk. having just that lack
of sartorial finish.
Excuse me. Miss Bedford. My name
Is Willitt. Can I have few words
with you this evening when you re-
turn?"
Il am not returning" she said. do
I owe you anything?"
Audrey always asked that question of
polite strangers. Usually they said
Eyes," for Mrs. Graffit had the habit
which was locally known as "chalking
up"
mo, miss. Not coming back? Could
I have your address? / wanted to see
you on a-well, an important matter"
He was obviously agitated
Il can't give you my address, I'm
afraid. Give me yours and I will write
to you"
He carefully BACKED out the descrip-
ton of the business printed on the card
and substituted his own address.
Now, them" called the aggrieved
driver. IF you wait any longer you'll
miss that train"
She jumped into the bus and banged
the door tight.
1t was at the corner of Ledbury lane
that the accident happened. Coming
out onto the main road Dick Shannon
took the corner little too sharply and
the back wheels of his long car per-