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Durham Review (1897), 31 Dec 1931, p. 2

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residences, and, apparently, it was in ame of these that the girl‘s father was being kept a prisoner. again, he roke off to the right and, of his poe Placing her hands on her ample hips, the landlady broke into a chuekle, "There‘s a lot o‘ them in this part o Kent," returned Mrs. Hamble quite seriously, "And where did you think 0‘ putting up, Mr. Padden, if 1 may be so bold as to ask?" "Hereâ€"if you‘ll have me." "There‘s another house at the end of the street." "I don‘t want to see it," he said; "I didn‘t believe there was such an inn &as this left in England. What about it Mrs. Hamble?" | ‘"My name‘s Padden," he replied. A lie, but, in the cireumstances, he deâ€" eided it was necessary. And, after all, it was not so far from being the truth â€"his uncle‘s name was Padden, and he supposed he could have the loan of it for a day or so. It was easy to go from one lie to anotherâ€"although he was sorry to deâ€" ‘ ceive so excellent a person. "What might your friend‘s name be â€"an.. yours, if it comes to that?" Th.re was no offence in the quasâ€" tion; it was merely a sign that the speaker was interested. "I‘m really on holiday," he anâ€" nounced, "and a friend of mine told me about Mandling. Said it was the best place he knew to come for a few further chat (no doubt, life at Mandâ€" ling was rather dull for a woman of her intelligence) Philip, halfâ€"way through the meal, invited her over. Noticing Mrs. Hawble hovering in the middle distance, as though she would welcom_o the opportunity for a "There‘s nothing to beat eggs and bacon for breakfast, young man," she said, with her pleasantly maternal air; "and I know where those eggs came fromâ€"out of me own back yard. Now, sit you down and eat it while it‘s hot." ed by a mound of crisply fried potaâ€" toes, Philip rubbel his hands. He might have been a schoolboy home for his first breakfast of the holidays. "Jolly good, Mrs. Hamble," he reâ€" warked. The iandlady beamed. ‘ Still smiling broadiy, Mrs. Hamble conducted him into a bedroom on the first floor, and vrought a large copper can of boiling water. "There‘s soap and a clean towel on the rail, sir," she announced. It was whilst he was descending the stairs that Philip made his decision.l If the unravelling of the mystery upon which he had embarked necessitated his remaining in Mandling, what betâ€" ter lodging than this? Mrs. Hamble served the meal herâ€" self. At the sight of the dish of ap-l petizing eggs and bacon, supplementâ€" "And my friend‘s called Smith," 10 her own. in the meantime Philip Crane arrives at Mrs. Hamble‘s Inn. ISSUE No. +A hapcr s ThaP Autvges Th d / nsc ikd «esigner, arrives in London on a holiday, :'fitl & colncidence of like names, he taken for the crook Crane, who is a tool of a band ruled by a mysterious "Empress." HMe rescues Margery Ferguson and takes her to a convent. He then goes to Mandling in Kent to rescue her faâ€" ther. Meanwhile, Charles Whittle, an A-rkun detective, is trailing a band ; orgers. By close confinement The press hopes to bend Ferguson‘s will to her own. In the meantime Philin CHMAPTER IX.~â€"(Cont‘d.) is." SYNOPSIS ADMIT ONE a young aeroplane ‘31 BY SIDNEY HORLER he remark: "And they do say there‘s not a preitier bit of covntry anywhere i» Kent than between this village and "Quite, Mrs. Hamble. Is it much of a walk up to this ‘White House‘?" "A tidy step, sir. But if you was intending to do it, you could get ther: and back nicely by lunchâ€"time." There followed a detailed description of the route to lzhben. concluding with the follow me?" now and again. I have heard tell that he‘s got a funny sort of a manâ€"servant up thereâ€"a big foreigner with a nastyâ€"looking face; but I daresay that‘s a bit exaggerated; you know what village people are, perhaps, Mr. Padden? They can‘t bear a foreignâ€" er, anyhow, and it often happens that rumors are spread about when, perâ€" haps, there‘s no call for ‘em, if you ow 0 P als "And what does Mr. Stevensson do?" he enquired, with the best atâ€" tempt at jocularity he could assume. ‘"Some say he‘s a gentleman of priâ€" vaite means; but not much is known about him. _A thinâ€"faced, severeâ€" looking gent he is Don‘t take much interest in the village life. But, there, it isn‘t every rich man from London: who wants to be bothered with such paltry fry as we folks. He doesn‘t live here all the timeâ€"just comes down Stevensson! of coul:se",-;iâ€"n;lvght be merely a coincidence, but he had to hear more. "Up at what they used to call "The White House," there‘s someone by the name of Stevenssonâ€"I think . . ." It was not until six houses and their occupants had been gone over that Philip felt he was getting somewhere near his quarry. Which reminded him; he must get informationâ€"as much information as was possibleâ€"about the occupants of each biz house in the district. With this resolve, he started to walk back to the Inn. 7 "The Jolly Sailor" had been washed and scrubbed, and, it seemed, foldedl and ironed, by the time he reached it.‘ Mrs. Hamble and the one servantâ€" a native of Mandling, as rightâ€"eyed as her mistressâ€"had put in some efâ€" fective scouring since breakfast time. And, with the work done, the landlady was willing to rest awhile and exâ€" change comments on what, to her, passed for the day‘s events. Philip tried her out cautiously. "Who lives about here?" she reâ€" peated; "well, that‘s easy enough to answer. Up at ‘Rose Mount,‘ therc's‘ Sir Geoffrey Godfreg, who‘s a big toâ€"| bacco man, I understand, somewherel in London; at ‘The Larches,‘ there‘s | Mr. Benjamin Quilter, who has a brewery business down at Ashfield. At *‘Cedar Crest,‘ there‘sâ€"â€"" And so on and so forth. - A fool? Maybe. But, still, he had given his word, u}d‘ he was going on. was at least fifty years behind the times in his language and manners. Fudge and nonsense! Perhaps it was. Any practical man of affairs would not have taken all this trouble upon such slender grounds. The most he would have done would have been to go to Scotland Yard on behalf of the girl. J "Fudge and nonsense, lad; fudge and nonsense! If this man‘s in trouâ€" ble, go to the police, sir." Sir Timothy What was this gang? And for what reason were they hoiding the man? There had not been time to ask the g‘rl this vital question, with the result that the only information he had gainâ€" ed was that her father was being nsedl‘ for some indefinite criminal purpose,. â€" His thoughts switched. He recallal his uncle, Sir Timothy Padden, that man whose visions were wide, but ; whose actual world was bounded by aeroplane engines. He smiled as he pictured the comment his uncle would have made on being told about his mad enterprise. 1 It was difficuit to realize that, in this dreaming countryside, he had arâ€" rived at the heart of the conspiracy, In London, yes; in the teeming Metroâ€" polis, anything was possible. But hereâ€"! she had given him during the short ride from Cima‘s to the Convent had consisted of short, fragmentary senâ€" tences all jumbled together, and, withâ€" out the details he had personally gainâ€" ed, they might have been quite meanâ€" ingless, apart from the one vital word : Mandling. | no doubt about the sincerity of the girl he had helped the previous night. Every word she uttered, every glance she had given him, had been eloquert of the truth. And she was aloneâ€"â€" utterly, completely alone. Worse still, the father on whom she, in the ordiâ€" nary way, would have depended, was being held to some kird of ransom by‘ a gang of criminals. The information T‘is was a quixotic mission upon which he had started, but now that his blood had cooled and he was able to seqa things in a more or less reasonable perspective, he knew himself still deâ€" termined to carry on. There could be an exceedingly plusii:tâ€" ;pot“l;-d: seating himself on a big boulder, he lit his pipe and gave himself up to sxte se _ climbing a stile, found himself on the edge of a patch of woodland. It was masemecans en o aedlome P w mennie nriaretn nscsmm °n ce ie cfi nc t man quite metn-, It was a wise head who wrote the : vital word:| old proverb about the course of true ,love never running smooth. George lize that, in‘ Greyson reflected it, as he eyed Roseâ€" , he had arâ€" mary from under his lids. He loved conspiracy.| her, yes, he really did love her; ashâ€" ming Metroâ€"| blonde hair, grey eyes, and that little sible. _ But! threeâ€"cornered mouth of hers. _ They Ihad been half engaged for over a year, nd for what| ever since that moment when they had ; the man‘.’lmet at the tennis dance. He had seen to ask the her dressed in Columbine, a fairyâ€"like, h the result| fragile little thing, with pink and, ie had gainâ€"| green ballons swirling about her. He s being use1) had summoned up the courage to kiss l purpose. |her, and she had not rebuffed him, He] He recallal, had felt ecstasy and triumphant pride mds c Mboev Lo cses: 7 I ! F mt M Ceeen wete NOONk the second turning to the right after the crossroads." ‘The White Ho‘nse.’r Mind you take "I never thought you‘d be such a beast," she flashed, "saying all those unkind things." ‘"Well, what about you? The truth i of the matter is that you have got used ’to me,. You haven‘t been as nice as you used to be for ages." _"You‘re being stupid. You can‘t go on being sloppy for ever." ns]°ppy!n He echoed the words irately,. There came silence. He was wonâ€" dering if it would be a terrible comeâ€", down to suggest a compromise. He was contemplating the best way to apâ€" proach it, when she said, angrily:â€" | iDi rit ds APetmaatstiutsingh c Pivcic oc A dn "I think I‘ll go home; if you are goâ€" ing to sulk it isn‘t very pleasant for ‘"You‘ve kept me waiting," he had announced, and she had replied, quite calmly :â€"â€" "Oh, have 1?" That was all. Yet, from that little "all" everything had started. Now they were sitting on two chairs, hot and angry with each other. When she had arrived, she had not been hurryingâ€"just strolling â€" along leisurely, late, and had bolted his supper, and had waiter in the park, walking up and down, and every moment had made him more indignant with himself for getting there late! his rag outâ€"one bfmt’l;o;'days when everything goes wrong. Then he had i been afraid that Ahe was going to be Ever since then they had been meetâ€" ing every other evening, walking in the park together, sitting on two prim ;chalrs and glancing at each other, and saying all those romantic sweet nothâ€" ings that lovers do say. Or they had been to the pictures, and had sat there hand in hand, thrilling with the sentiâ€" mental parts, joying in the love of it. Now, toâ€"night, this had happened. | George supposed he had not been feeling too goodâ€"tempered when they met. He had had a bad day at the office, hot weather, and the chief with "I wasn‘t sulking." "That‘s it, contradict me." swelling together within 'h_l; able little thing! When he w he would buy her a ring. nio, ghts. . Abrams wielding the new light traffic control at â€"Clevel=: irport, which works somewhat after fashion of intersectic nmmmmu-m«nm;mmm-nu (To be continued.) Controls Air Lines m, Adorâ€" was wnle Then he had done an amazing thing. He had taken off his hat; he had foldâ€" ed it and put it in his pocket. He had taken off his whiskers and had done the same. He had turned a laughing _ On the box the old taxiâ€"man crouchâ€" ed over his wheel. He was thinking | of last night, of the fare he had hadâ€" _ a fat old gent, with white whiskers _ and all got up like a dandy. While _ carnation in his buttonhole, shiny hat and all. "Brixton," the old gentleman _had said, "and a fat tip if you get me there quickly." The smell of his cisar‘ had been good as a meal. The taxiâ€" man had gone along to Brixton, and had had luck. He knew the way well, for he had had a motherâ€"inlaw who { lived round there, and who had kept a little fish shop, and many a time he! | had gone down for the little dainty she had put aside for her daughter. Years since he had been that way, and rathâ€"‘ or pleasant to be going over the reâ€", membered ground again with the old gent with the shiny hat and the carâ€" nation, puffing at his strongâ€"smelling cigar in the back of the car. Then,‘ when they had got there, out the old gent had got, sprightly and agile‘ enoughk, and he had stood on the edge, of the pavement and had counted out[ the money, fat tip and all. It had been 4 a fat tip, too! ; _ The taxi rolled on. He had not been noticing where they were going, because he had been entirely preoceuâ€" pied with his own quarrel, but now it struck him that the streets were lookâ€" ing queerly unfamiliar. A short cut perhaps. He refused to take any noâ€" tice. He had an idea that she was cry-I ing, something bright and glittering in her eyes! No, he would not notice.! On they went. ' | _ "I never thought it would end like | this." , "If you hadn‘t been so snappy it wouldn‘t have done." "Granted," he sniffed, and sat back. Well, he had got one in there. "You‘ve never cared for me," she protested. "A good thing we found it out before we were married. A nice thing it would have been after." ‘"Yes, wouldn‘t it?" She turned upon him furiously. "I‘ll never speak to you again as long as I live," she declared. "Never! This is the end." | The longing to plead with her sudâ€" denly disappeared. "I suppose it is," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulâ€" ness. ‘"‘Well, then, it‘s a new side of my nature, I don‘t know what has come over you toâ€"night. 1 suppose this is the end?" "I‘ve never seen you so thoroughly beastly," he announced. ‘"Well, I don‘t care I like the heat," she snapped "It‘s not as hot as it was,‘ he said at last. She ignored him. He repeatâ€" ed the modest remark; "Not as hot as 1t WHAS. ... 4 c 8 George gave the man the address and got in beside her. He was thankâ€" ful that the journey was not a long one. . They bowled aloug. She showed little surprise as she got inside and sat down with her face averted from him. That in itself was disarming. Almost viciously he made a grand movement and hailed a taxiâ€"cab. That would surprise her. He did not often rise to taxis, but he would take her home in style. Th: end should be a trinmphant one. Quality has __ no substitute ONTARIO ARCHIVES TORONTO gj Tea ‘/res[/om the gardens" _Blimey," said the taximan, and his ‘yes grew round with amazement; "If that there ain‘t another comic fare, Who‘d ha‘ believed it?"â€"Tit Rits. :ounted out the change, He watched George as he turned and linked his amlnnouury'l,udthnm.m- tle gavotte of their own on the paveâ€" ment and into the house, | "Sweetheart," and he kissed her again and again, "darling little sweetâ€" heart After this, dearest, we will have to be properly engaged, because I am not risking any more disputes. We : will buy a ring at once. We will put the banns up." | _ "Oh, George!" | He held her to his heart. "Fancy, it the moony old fool hadn‘t driven us to, Brixton we shouldn‘t ever have had | time to make it up, We should have‘ parted, perhaps for ever." 1 "That would have been too awful," | she said, and she lifted her lips and kissed him timidly. "I‘m not angry that he yent â€"to Broxton, are you?" I‘ve got rather a weakness for the place, couldn‘t we live there whenâ€" . when we are married ?" | hat. â€"I do hope it ain‘t caused you no nconvenience." “Onthoeonturylthmotm ost things you ever did," said George, and I‘m going to pay for it." | The taxi jarred to a standstill by the cerb of a Battersea flat. Slowly they sot out. "I‘m sorry about that there," said he taximanâ€"and he scratched his 1ead. "I don‘t know what made me hink like that, day dreamin‘ and all "Oh, George," and she clung to him. "Oh, George, darling, I feel so awful about it. I didn‘t mean those things, really I didn‘t . . . please, George, ," face. The cheeks were quite ;etr.r ;1;; eyes were brimming. "Darling. . . ." He caught her to him, just as the cab struck a potâ€" hole in the road He caught her to him, and kissed the little upturned "I‘m sorry, if you are," she said at last, very softly indeed. ‘"You said some very nasty things," she said. "So did you." There was a silence for a moment as the cab rolled along the street. "And may it be soon," he whisperâ€" "Iâ€"I never think rows are worth while," he commented, "one does say such nasty things; all the same. . ." George caught the inflection of her voice and was suddenly «shamed. "What was he thinking about?" she asked. "Perhaps he had bad a row with somebody, too." He thought furiously that now they | would have to prolong this awkward teteâ€"atete. He fumed to himself. | The taximan turned the cab slowly. At the corner of the street was the house where he had left herâ€"cigar and white whiskers and all. "Dashed annoying," said George. Rosemary came out of her handkerâ€" chief and glanced at him. "What‘s happened?" ‘ ‘"Why, the moony old fool has brought us all the way to Brixton. Heaven knows what he was thinking about." | _ The taximan came out of his dayâ€" | dream. "Well, you just jolly well take us backâ€"and at your own expense," said George, and he slammed up the winâ€" dow. "Blimey! I was thinking of last night‘s fareâ€"a caution that wasâ€"and I‘ve brought you to Brixton." "Hi," said George furiously, his head out of the window, "where do you think you are driving us? What are you doing? I said Battersea." All the same, he could not forget it. He was mooning along and thinking ab_q_llt_ _{t when suddenly . , . "You â€"zot hold of Ella de Wrench," he said; "she used to be on the stage, did male impersonating. They say she goes on doing it in her private life. She‘s a caution." One of the others had told him about it at the rank when ho was waiting for a fare, The driver would never forget it. All day long he had been thinking about it. All day long he had thought of the smell of the cigar, and the old gent who had taken of his hat and his whiskers and had laughed up at him impudently, woman‘s face to the driver of the taxiâ€" cab, and had turned and strod~ inside the house. A bachelor‘s life is just od thing after anothenâ€"Boome ween" First came l:he "realtor," then the ""mortician," ter the "buutician." subsequently the "bootician," the» the "pedictre." And the sther day a large motor t;‘uk Yesree:ed down Third Avenue, New ork, the imposâ€" ing legend : "Kelly :0;2:{!‘. Truckâ€" ologists."â€"Wall Street Journal, Drudgery is as necessary to call out the treasures of the mind as harrow. ing and planting those of the earth.â€" Margaret Fuller, A conquEror. The worldâ€"conqueror is val more valiant is he who conquers self.â€"Herder, . s hinking of me, dearest?" Adelaide St., Toronto OW TO ORDER PATTERNS. Write your name and address Plainly, giving number and size of such patterns as you want. Enclose 20¢ in stamps or coin (coin dres ferred; wrap it carefully) for cach number, and address your order to Wilson Pattern Service, 78 West AAnLEEES CC Ts u if ooo sc o e irilee Made entirel, of one color as in almond â€" green crepe marocain, offers still another charming idea for afternoons. Style No. 3350 is designed for sizes 16, 18 years, 36, 38, 40 and 42 inches bust, Bize 36 requires 3 yards 39â€"inch, with %% yard 27â€"inch contrastinr, Patterned woven silk and wool novelties are tclightfully practical for general day wear. Another idea you‘ll like immenseâ€" ly that is very, very smart and sportsy is black diagonal woolen with bright:re(‘i wool contrasting, Malds suit c CA 3 A black crepe satin dress apâ€" proves of white crepe satin plasâ€" tron, so modish:. The snugly fitted hips with pointâ€" ed treatment at the front is interâ€" nnolarcs ilustrated Dressmaking Lesson Furnished with Every Pattern What New York Is Wearing BY ANNEBELLE WORTHINGTON DRUDcERYv, npger n «3 valiant; ABM= An& A uic 20â€" a ness world needs now is 2, 2020 who can bring orders out of T°°"“Mu.m” m.ll‘i'. and can be no dlmm.-.:?_".:‘_'f:, _ ____ ~â€""0%e and gas, And .o'v AOEpUTY fogs are getting lighter. Maq ,, _ , "~*"* Suburban area has filled the lowâ€"lying cloude with mh and gas. And now ranaws 20 0 0 CCC p «uon 6 _ _Paris.â€"Parig fogs are making a deâ€" termined effort to climb into the place long held by London‘s "pea soupers," and health officials are worried about it. For twenty years the continued in dultrhllntlol of the Paris suburban Area hae ANaa 1 _ l ‘ f "That‘s done l{!" Blissful ignorance is perhaps the best basis for meeting eminent men, says William Gerhardi, the novelist. in his bubbling reminiscences: "Meâ€" moirs of a Polyglot." And Gerhardi ought to know for he has met plenty, There was the time his friend, Lord Beaverbrook, introduced him _ to Lloyd George, for instance. "This is Mr. Lloyda George," said Beaverbrook. _ _"To make Lloyd George interestâ€" ed," relates Gerhardi, "Lord Beaverâ€" brook asked me, had I written about him â€" no; had I mentioned him in my booksâ€"no; had I reflected upon him profoundly â€" no; had I â€"â€"No, Mr. Lloyd George looked down on the floor and gald. â€" sennichrally Family The origin of the phrase "Black Maria" â€" a patrol wagon used to carry prisoners to prison â€" says Godfrey Irwin (in "American Tramp and Underworld Slang," an â€" extraâ€" ordinary book) is this: A negress, one Maria, once kept a sailors‘ boarding house on the Boston water front, and was a terror to her boarders from her size and temper. When sailors rioting along the docks became too much for the police, they set up the call for "Black Maria." "Well, well, Herr Professor, skatâ€" ing isn‘t so easy, you see, as playing the fiddle." Josef Joachim, great virtuoso of other days and a delightful personâ€" ality, told Prince von Bulow once how he tried to skate one winter at an ice rink in Berlin When he had fallen filat on his face a few times, the skating rink attendant said with a goodâ€"humored smile: This is the postscript to a letter, written in 1905, by William I., of Germany, to his Chancellor, Prince vyon Bulow â€" printed in the second volume of von Bulow‘s Memoirs: â€"_"P. 8. I appeal to your friendship for me, and do not let me hear any more of your intention to retire, Wire me, after this letter the words ‘All right,‘ and I shall know you will stay! For the morning after your request for resignation had been reâ€" ceived would find your Emporer alive no longer, Think of my wife and children. W." I had this room panelled out of the proceeds." "‘And this,‘ said he, ‘is the Poinâ€" care room,‘ showiling me its fine wood panelling. ‘I wrote an article about him, and was so well paid for it that â€"Lloyd George, at his country home, outside Londonâ€"to Ludwig* * to Ludwig: "I have no face at all. It‘s only two profiles pasted tpcether." t;;rl ;;fiied a book and so I wrote that one." Margotâ€"On herself: Lady Oxford (Margot Asquith) â€" ’u Ludwig: ‘ "Landscape? Mood? All nonsense! If my wife comes and says, ‘Add up this column of figures in my house keeping book,‘ I just do it for her, and then go on with my sentence. ‘ w + â€" Edison was an enthusiastic angler, This motto (says Ludwig) hung over the mantelpiece in his room at home: C 00 L Lg221A sa manw "Why have you golden minutes 7"7Why not? Bernard Shaw on OBLIGAT:ONS norance is perhaps the or meeting eminent men, n Gerhardi, the novelist, ling reminiscences: "Meâ€" Polyglot." And Gerhardi w for he has met plenty, he time his friend, Lord _ _introduced him _ to , for instance, Mr. Lloyd George," said Lloyd George interestâ€" Gerhardi, "Lord Beaver ners to prison â€" says in (in "American Tramp orld Slang," an extraâ€" k) is this: , one Maria, once kept boarding house on the * front, and was a terror lers from her size and ‘n sailors rioting along Turnin{ waid cred to insure and the guaranto. "Interni United St Great w»me can the ban tinue United t © 11 at a Go If V wreplic peror ©ratisl ©f org @rt to ©com m the « som ( gists @&mou whip thro tw will Th Thi

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