The Cotton Factory Times. — 1907-10-11 (Manchester, Greater Manchester, England)

CHAPTER XXVII. ALICE MAKES A DISCOVERY.  Company at Rivington Hall had become more frequent since Roderick's marriage, and a house party for the shooting was a matter of course. It was a means of bringing influential people together pleasantly and Roderick was in no danger of forgetting his grandfather's advice about making useful friends. The younger man was not growing sufter on the road of ambition; the last remnant of the idealism of his boyhood had vanished long ago; he was nothing if Dot practic.al to-day—keen-eyed for his own advantage. but with the old charm of manner intensified if pcsible, his natural command of language increased by practice. his self-confidence justified by success. He had already risen to being caricatured in 'Punch" and interviewed by two or three of the rco.t solid weeklies." _Vice West. now a growing girl of twelve, thinner and wore weird than ever, caught hold of Isobel on the first afternoon the party foregathered. •• Yea promised you'd lend me your scrap-book," etn "I want to read all about Roderick." What's that" he asked.  She means my preas-cutting book," explained " You must take .7e of it," she added to the hild. -if I tell Mears to bring it down." I'll take ever so much care of it," protested Alice eari,e3tly.  he IC. still devoted to Roderick, and when fhe album came down, and he said. to tease her, that ab would not understand what she was reading, she Fre him a hug and ran off with her treasure to the window seat.  The hall emptied by degrees till only two women sten, kit—Lady Pullinger, a cousin of Irobel's, and Mrs. Cautley, whose husband was proprietor of a. cekbrated Liberal review.  - What an odd-looking child that is," remarked Mrs. Cautley.  Ye," Lady Pullinger laughed. "I always sac she will grow up a fright—or a beauty who will startle London." " Who is she?" asked the other woman. "Have th? Tankervilles adopted her?" The child in the window-seat raised her head. The voices reached her plainly, and she understood that the spealoers had forgotten about her, hidden, as she loar, by the curtains. She thought perhaps she ought to go away, or cough to remind them she was there, but to do either required more tact and courage than ecu!d be expected of her years, and while she hesitated the conversation went on.  "I suppose they have adopted her practically. Ty could scarcely help themselveS. Her mother win, a distant connection, and when she was left a widow without means she came here as a sort of lady lioustikeeper. Don't you remember reading about it all in the papers? She committed suicide, you know."  A look of strained attention appeared on the face of the listening child. "Committed suicide," repeated Mrs.Cautley, with lively curiosity. "In this house, do you mean? Hoc dreadful for the Tankervilles!"  Y 3, it wasn't very pleasant. She seems to have been in hive with some man who threw her over in the end, and broke her heart, poor thing. She shot herself with a pistol belonging to Sir James." "Who was the man?"  "Ah, nobody knows," said Lady Pullinger, "although we all suspected a certain friend of Roderjet's at the time. Don't talk about it; they don't like it."  " go the weird child's mother committed suicide! Pon, little beast!" "Yes. but she doesn't know it," said Lady Pulling,. "although I suppose she is bound to hear some (LIT These things always leak out." Ali, sat motionless in the window-seat, her thin, nervous hands clasped tightly over the book full of eulogies of the member for Grimshot.