Picture Show (Oct 1920 - Apr 1921)

a Picture Show, January 15th, 1921.. 'Manacled By Money." {Continued from page 6). As to Doctor Swayle, Grace wondered how much she could tell him of her suspicions. Dare she put them into actual words ? Would not the doctor be incredulous, or, if he believed her would he not consider it his duty to inform tho police ? That would mean publicity for her mother as well as herself ; something from which they both naturally shrank. And then, again, what could she prove against Arthur Weston ? There was only her word about the letter which had been stolen from her father's study the night before. No one had seen her attacked and drugged. And then, as these thoughts passed through her mind, she suddenly remembered Harry. After all he was the person who should act. Grace sped across tho Park, and took the short cut through the woods. Her mind was made up. She would write and tell her suspicions to Harry. The letter did not take her long to write, although she had so much to say. It was with a little sigh of relief that she posted the letter. Now she could give her attention to her mother, who so sorely needed her help. She would try to get back the letter if possible, but she felt it was now destroyed. It was scarcely likely that Arthur Weston would keep a paper which he did not want his cousin to have. Arthur Weston was with her mother when she returned. He had come to see if he could be of any use, he explained, as his restless eyes scanned Grace's face. Mrs. Ferguson left them together. She, poor lady, was in no mood for visitors, and although she liked Weston, she felt at the present time a certain effort was required to meet anyone but her own daughter. " You have been out this evening, Grace ? " began Arthur. The girl looked up at him. The overpowering impulse to tell him that she had recognised him tho night before swept over her, but she managed to restrain it. After all, was it not best to keep silent until she had the proofs of his villainy ? Would it not be foolish to put him on his guard ? So she smiled. " Yes, I have been down the village to post letters," she said. Her companion nodded. " This is a terrible calamity that has befallen you," he said. " I have been trying to express to your mother my sympathy. I hear from her that you will havo to leavo the Rectory almost immediately after tho funeral. I should like you to realiso that I would bo glad to assist you in any way I could." " Thank you. You are very kind." The coldness in the girl's voice was unmistakable. Arthur had stretched himself out in the Rector's favourite chair, with a pipe between his lips. Grace looked at him almost with repulsion. How was it possiblo that she and her parents had ever thought kindly of this man. He glanced up sharply, and caught the expression on her face. ' Grace," he said, " may I ask you why you have changed towards mo ? You used to bo kind, even friendly, and now " he gave a short embarrassed laugh. " You look as though you thoroughly dotosted me. Will you tell me, please, what you have in your mind against me ? " " What should I havo against you, Mr. Weston ? " asked the girl steadily, but tho colour mounted to her face despite herself. " That is what I cannot understand, and I want you to tell me." Ho was leaning forward now towards her, his not uuhandsomo face woro an almost boyish, eager expression. In spito of all her preconceived convictions, Grace felt herself waver. When Arthur Weston chose to oxert himself he could create a very favourable impression. Thcro was oven a charm about him. The man who now sat regarding her was totally unliko the Arthur Weston of a few minutes ago, so far as appearanco wont, and Grace was not experienced enough not to bo impressed. Could sho have misjudged him. Was it his servant sho had disturbed in tho study ? Yes. Sho was certain of it. Grace managed to draw herself up to hor full height. " Mr. Weston," she said, " last night a letter was stolen from the desk in the library. I disturbed the thief and I recognised him." There was a short silence, and tlien Arthur Weston drew his chair yet closer to where tho girl was standing on the hearthrug. " This is interesting, although I do not seo what it has to do with the subject we are discussing. Someone stole a letter — tell me all about it." He spoke frankly, without the slightest suggestion of guilt. Grace wa3 bewildered. %he had seen an expression of foar on Weston's face when the doctor had said her father was dead, yet now, when she was accusing him of being a thief, he did not appear to turn a hair. " Mr. Weston. It was your servant who entered our house last night ; and either ho or you came back and drugged — me." " Grace, are you really serious ? " " I am. The letter was addressed to Harry Rae, Mr. Weston. No one could possibly be interested in its contents but you." " You think that, do you ? You believe that I would do such a thing ? " There was reproach in his voice, and a certain dignity. Arthur Weston was not the type of man to allow a girl to frighten him. Besides, he knew that lie was safe. Mrs. Ferguson had made no mention of last night's affair. Grace had evidently kept hor own counsel. He know that it must be she who had entered Greystono earlier in the evening, and that was why he had come round. He felt he must know what was going on. Now ho allowed a smile to twitch the corners of his mouth. " Really, you must forgive me, Grace, but your story Is it not just a little wild ? My The Girl with the. Lucky Star ! Read the Wonderful Life Story of JOAN MORGAN in this week's GIRLS' CINEMA. On Sale To-Morrow. Pries 2d. man is a most harmless old soul. I should not think for a moment that he would behave as you say ho did. What did he do ? " Ho paused and looked at her inquiringly, the smile still on his lips. Grace felt that he was making her ridiculous, and a very real angor swept over her. " It is quito true, though at present I can prove nothing. But the day will come when I can, and then you won't laugh, Mr. Weston. It is true I havo tried to like you. I was 6orry for you, but now I feel there is something horrid — something evil about you, and 1 mean to find out what it is." The words broke from her lips in a torrent. She had thought of thorn so ofton during the last few hours, that she spoke them almost unconsciously. Arthur did not stir, His expression even scarcely changed, except for a peculiar pallor ' which overspread his features. " So that is what you really think of me ! " ho said very quietly. " Well. It is as well to know exactly where wo stand. I don't know why you should have such an opinion of mo. 1 am thankful that your parents havo never shared it." He glanced at her keenly to discovor if she was likely to rotort, but Graco was breathingheavily, her hand on her heart. Sho was a girl who seldom gave way to her omotions, and when sho did it took it out of her. Arthur leaned suddenly yet further .out of his chair towards her. " Grace," he said, striving to speak gontly. " I should, bo genuinely amused, if I did not know of tho great sorrow which bus entered your life, but you must not let it unhinge your brain. What is this story about chloroform ? Surely j'ou must bo mistakon. Who discovered you f I am intensely sorry for you and your mother. Surely you must believe that ? And this foolish, wild notion of yours " He threw out his hands as though in bewilderment. "'My dear girl, you must see how very improbable and wild it sounds. You had a night* mare last night. It was natural after the shock you had sustained. Think, now. Was it not so ? " Grace was about to make an indignant retort when she caught again a momentary expression on the face of the man before her. It passed swiftly, but Grace saw again the evil glitter in the eyes, which warned her of tha wicked soul of the man she was dealing with. After all, she had written to Harry. There was no sense in her putting his cousin on his guard. "I do not think I dreamed it," she said hesitatingly. Arthur laughed out loud, and to her consternation caught at her hand and lifted it to his lips. " You dreamed it, Grace," he said. " My dear, I am sure you did." The Proposal. THREE weeks had passed away. The funeral was over. It was their last night in the old Rectory. Mrs. Ferguson had been offered a cottage in the village, and here . she was prepared to go. Mrs. Ferguson hod always known that her husband was poor, but he had certainly not expected to leave them so soon. Affairs provep to be in a very critical state for the widow. Grace would have to earn her tiwn living. Mrs. Ferguson also would have to find some occupation which would help her to keep the wolf from the door. It was a sad state of affairs, and though Mrs. Ferguson smiled bravely and spoke of tho future with quiet confidence, she realised she was no longer young. All her life had boen spent in comparative comfort and luxury. Grace felt her heart fail her when sho realised the truo state of their circumstances. She was packing up a few treasures which were to be taken down to the cottage in tho morning before tho sale of their now superfluous furniture. There were a number of books sho prized, and she remembered some of her father's which he had kept in his room. Theso were of little valuo as she knew, and she felt no qualms at keeping them. Thero was his Bible and prayer-book, his book of meditations, and yet another. A rather cumbersome affair bound in shabby leather with a heavy, old-fashioned brass clasp. Grace opened it curiously. She had often soen it in her father's hands, but never open. It was a diary, complete from the first early years of his married life. A page given to every day. Sho turned to the last entry, New Year's day. The day lie died. At that momont Mrs. Ferguson entered tho room. Sho walked hurriedly and not at all in her usual manner. " Oh, hero you are, Grade dear," she cried. " I have been all over tho houso looking for you. Oh, my dear. I don't know quite how to tell you, but it seems just like providence to me. Arthur says he will sell Greystone if you like. In fact, ho seems most anxious to do everything to please you. He really is a very nico man. I do hope you will like tho idea as much as I do." Grace starod at her mother in undisguised astonishment. Never before had she seen her mother so excited and apparently unnervod. " Whatever is it, darling ? " she asked, placing her arm round tha older woman, and gazing down into her face. " It is such a relief, dear. I havo been so dreading the future, although I havo tried so hard to kcop it all to myself, and now this has happened, and it is a way out for us all. Arthur will help me. You need not leavo mo and go away. We shall, of course, all bo poor, but wo can all keep together." " Mother, dear, what are yoxi talking about ? I don't understand in tho least," said tho girl gently. Mrs. Ferguson looked up at her, her expressive eyes full of tears. " Arthur Weston is downstairs, my dear," sho said unsteadily. " He wants to speak to you, Grace, llo is an honourable man. and Inn asked my permission. Ho wants to marry you, dear." (Another instalment of this thrilling stity in next Monday's " Picture Show,")