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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] Which was THE HEIRESS? OR, THE CURSE OF ADRIAN BLAIR. BY EDITH C. KENYON, Author oj" Jack's Cousin Kate," The Squire oj Lonsdale," "A Poor Piclatioiz," tc. etc. CHAPTER XIX. CONSTANCE TAKES A BOLD S'LEP. LEFT alone, after Doris had gone off on her charit- able errand, the Squire of Waddington had a spell of more or less severe pain, which considerably irritated him. He had been comparatively free from it when he talked to Doris, but now it was very bad for a time, and he mentally cursed his cousin, who had caused him so much discomfort. I am glad I punished him as I did he said to himself. "What a fright the fellow was in! Elsie did for him and no mistake That dog is a treasure 1 It was plucky of the girls to set her loose and send her after me. Gad I'd have been done for if she hadn't come, and then—then—bah I I won't think of it." He closed his eyes, and began to remember the stirring excitement of the night before. For it was one thing to say h, would not think of it, and another thing to do it. Suddenly he caught up the newspaper, and began to turn it restlessly over, to divert his mind. At length he came across a paragraph which pleased him greatly. It was amongst items of general news, in a remote corner of the paper. "Gad!" he exclaimed, I might have looked ever so long and have not seen it. However, here it is. He read half aloud- It is reported on good authority that the Dorian Mine, worked by Messrs. Adrian Blair and Co., in Australia, has been completely flooded, and, unless enormous sums are expended in repairing the damage, it's owners will be the owners of quite useless property." "I'm glad of it! Glad of it said Ambrose Blair to himself, exultingly. That, then, was what made Adrian so desperate that he came here. He kept away when he was prospering, but as soon as ruin stared him in the face, he came again to Waddington. Wanted to look at his daughter's face ? Pooh !—nonsense he shrank from her with disgust when he saw her. Look how cruel he was to her, too, when she was a child! She was glad enough to run away to us. Maybe, he thinks now of appealing to me for help to save the mine. By Jingo he shan't have a penny of my money I could save the mine-I a millionaire—but I won't do it for him." He swore violently. "I won't- I won't lift up my little finger to save him." He took up the paper again and stared at it. By the bye," he thought, "it might not be a bad speculation to buy and work it myself. But no, my money is safe where it is. I will be prudent and not risk it. No, P-o no speculations for me." Just then, from Doris's boudoir, which was upstairs, and some distance from the library, the sound of the piano proceeded, and, immediately after, Dora's voice, singing the exquisite anthem, 0 Rest in the Lord." Ringing his bell, which was immediately answered by the attentive butler, the Squire of Waddington desired him to open all the doors between him and the young ladies' boudoir then he lay back, listening to the soothing strains. The words, sung in Dora's inimitable style, were now to be heard clear and distinct, "0 rest in the Lord wait patiently for Him-and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart." The rare sweetness of the young voice, with its strange resemblance to a voice he had onced loved, thrilled even the hard, selfish, worldly heart of Ambrose Blair. And yet he was a stranger to the meaning of the words—as regards resting in the Lord that is but the latter part of the text he understood better, for he did want the desires of his heart to be granted. He wanted his great riches to be increased, he wanted Doris, his darling only daughter, to play a distinguished part in life, and become the wife of a great man. These things were the desires of his heart. Would they be granted ? As David's playing of old soothed the heart of Saul the King, so now did Dora's playing, and'her sweet, soul-stirring singing, lull to rest the wicked turmoil in the heart of Ambrose Blair. Hatred of his enemy was turned gradually to a vague wonder at him greed for money was changed to compla- cency that he possessed so much ambition for Doris gave place, just then, to a father's loving pride in her many attractions. If the music could have continued all along >1 ,the charm of that wondrous singing-voice could have stayed with him, Ambrose Blair might have become another man. As it was, all too soon the music ceased, the singer went away to some othet occupation. Ambrose was too proud to ask her to continue singing-he rarely asked her to do it, although he had paid large sums for her musical education. Dora's masters had wanted her to become a public singer, and she was glad to feel that she could be one, if necessity demanded-i.e., if she were obliged to work for her own mainten- ance. For her stay at Waddington Hall was always rendered uncertain, owing to the capricious temper of its master. Love for Doris, and un- willingness to leave her, had alone caused her to remain a recipient of the charity, which was sometimes freely and willingly bestowed, at others grudgingly, and almost taken away. Now, it pleased Ambrose Blair to send for Dora, not for the purpose of telling her what enjoyment her singing had caused him, not that he might ask her for more, but because he wanted someone to talk to, and it might be, domineer over. "Dora," he began, in his most disagreeable, hectoring tone, "you might come near me some- times, to see if I want anything. Doris stayed here for a while this morning before she went out, but I suppose a sick room has no attraction for you." "Mr. Blair," said the girl, gently, you forget. I do not visit you without being sent for. You yourself requested me not to do so." Ah, well, I suppose that is your excuse. Now, Dora, I want to have some serious talk with you. I liked your conduct the other evening in refusing to-to accept that boy's ridiculous proposal. You his wife What a fool the fellow is Dora's colour rose. "I would rather you did not talk about it, please," she said, meekly, yec with a certain dignity. Highty tighty Tell me, girl, do you not think he is a fool yourself ?" No." "No? You surprise me. What match would you be, I wonder, for the heir of Broadlands Do you know his father is the Marquis of Blake- borough ? Yes." "And that he will be the Marquis himself some .ay1" Yes." Oh oh And you do not see the unfitness of yourself for a marchioness. You a marchioness! By jingo I look at yourself in the glass for a moment." "Mr. Blair, you have been very kind to me in educating me, and especially in paying for my musical education," said poor Dora, with the tears in her eyes, "but I cannot remain here to be insulted." "Insulted! Fiddlesticks! What a temper you've got! I don't mean to insult you. I admire you very much for what you have done. I only want to know why you did it, if you did not see the absurdity of the whole thing. By thunder I why did you refuse the man ? "Mr. Blair, I must beg you to excuse my answering these questions," faltered Dora, the tears falling down her cheeks. She was terribly afraid of him. There was no knowing to what lengths his violent temper might lead him when thwarted, and Doris, who alone had any influence over him, was out. Perhaps her tears, or the utter helplessness of her whole shrinking being, as she moved a little nearer the door, or it might be the effect of her music and singing, which still lingered, caused the bully to change his tactics. Come, don't cry, Dora," he said, gruffly enough, but not unkindly, "I am pleased with you, you know. You have behaved well in a matter which I had very much at heart. I want you to behave better still, girl," and he leaned forward on his I couch and looked keenly at her, I want you to behave better still. I want you to earn my undying gratitude. You have a marvellous voice-people rave about it-you should have heard the comments on your singing the other night. It gives you tre- I mendous power. It is worth more than beauty- far more, as a factor to move men's heart. See how you won Lord Herbert's heart, in spite of the superior looks of Doris Well, you can with your talent do almost what you will with men." He paused. Dora looked at him in amazement as he talked. Such praise, such flattering praise of her voice from him was as unexpected as it was extravagant. What did he want? She knew he wanted no small thing of her wren he spoke like that. Bub she dared not speak she only looked at him as if she were fascinated and unable to stir. I You won Lord Herbert's love," he went on, try now to win that of another. Exert all the I powers of your wonderful voice to make Archie Scott love you." Dora could not help laughing. The thing was so absurd, so utterly absurd Ever since they were children together Archie had adored Doris. He and she were good friends, but that was all. Mr. Blair," said Dora, I might sing until I had no voice left at all, but Arihie would not care for me one iota more than he does now. I am sure of it." Make him love you," persisted the man. See, girl. You may not know it, but you are penniless. I can make you rich, aye, and I will do it, if only you will prevent Archie from obtaining Doris's love. I do not think Doris loves him," replied Dora, so you may be quite easy about that. But if she did, I could not-would not—take your money to do anything to prevent it." "You would not But if I say you gnt&gt ? Ambrose was crying fiercely, when the door opened, and Legott, the butier, entered, with a card on a salver, which he handed to his master. "By heavens!" cried Ambrose, "whom have we here?" He read—"Mrs. Blair," and the address below, Morriton Hall, Cheshire," and the pencilled words, Pray let me see you at once on urgent business." Dora," he said, in a low, emphatic tone, your step-mother is here." Don't let me see her," entreated the girl, starting up. Suppose she has come for you ? Oh, no, it would be too dreadful." "Shall I send you away with her?" No, no. Please do not attempt it, for I cannot —will not go." I won't let her have you if you will promise to do what I have just been asking you to do." But I cannot." Legott," said his master, in loud tones, show the lady this way. Now, Dora, if you want to stay here, at least you must promise to keep me informed of anything that passes between Doris and Archie." "But I cannot spy upon Doris," replied the girl, in a low voice, and then, springing up, she literally ran away through one of the library doors, whilst Mrs. Adrian Blair entered at the other." Ambrose," said Constance, taking his hand, and signing to him not to rise, Ambrose, I have come to you in my extremity. You must save me." Save you ? He looked at her she was very pale and thin, and looking far older than he expected to see her. Yes," she repeated, no one but you can do it, and you, Ambrose, can and must save me." CHAPTER XX. CONSTANCE'S FEARFUL MENACE. MY dear Constance," said Ambrose Blair, "what do you mean? How on earth can I save you, and from what?" "From ruin," she replied, wringing her hands. For ten years, ten years, Ambrose, I have lived in affluence, and now, now," she repeated, wildly, "our money has abruptly come to an end; our mine is flooded." I know. I have just seen it in the paper. Look there." He handed her the newspaper to read, pointing with his finger to the paragraph. "Yes," she said, handing it back, "it's true. And now, Ambrose, I want you to lend us the money to repair the mine." "Me?" he cried, aghast at such a demand. "Yes, you," she repeated. "Come, Ambrose, you have the money:—I do not ask you to give it, but to lend it, at any rate of interest you choose to demand." "I won't do it," said the man, frowning. Good heavens, Constance, do you know what you ask ? It would require many, many thousands, to do the thing properly." And you have many, many thousands. Come, Ambrose, you owe me something for my care of your little girl." She spoke insinuatingly. Her still beautiful face was flushed now with eagerness, and she laid one white hand upon his arm. He remembered he had loved her once, when he was a mere boy; he remembered she had loved him more recently; and he remembered, too, that ten years ago he felt as if he would give her almost anything she asked for her care of Doris. But this that she asked was such a great thing it would take half his fortune to do what she demanded, yes, demanded of him. For she did not come to him so much to solicit his help as to bespeak that which she could in reality command. He did not like this tone of hers, it helped to steel his heart against those other softening reflections. True, you were good to my little Doris. I have been and still am grateful to you for it, Con- stance. Were it otherwise, I should not allow the wife of my bitter enemy, Adrian Blair, to be admitted into my house, much less should I sit here talking to her. Ji "to not as hia wife I come to you, Ambrose. JIe knows nothing about it. We care little for each other. I simply married him because-" she hesitated—"because he was rich," she went on, and I was weary of struggling to earn my own living. I never loved him, and I told him so. By the bye, where is he, Ambrose ? Do you know, Did he coma here?" "Did he come here ?" repeated Ambrose, with mock emphasis. Did he come here ? Why am I lying here ? Why, because he came here twc evenings since, and we had such a fight as we have not had since we were lads together. And, do you know, Constance, do you know, he would have killed me if it had not been for my dog. Elsie, who came to the rescue." "Bah! What a—" Constance was going to say what a pity, but recollected herself in time. "What a man he is!" she said, instead. "I told him on no account to come here, and he just came straight off. I've no patience with him." "You won't get Adrian to obey you, a woman," said Ambrose, with a short laugh. But oh, didn't he get punished for coming here just By-" he swore a great oath. Then he gave her his own highly-coloured account of what hap- pened. Constance laughed immoderately as he did so, but there was a gleam of hatred in her eyes, as she looked on the man who had thus dared to humiliate her husband. "Is it likely I shall trouble myself to save the mine of a man like that?" he said, in conclusion. "It is -aot for him," persisted Constance. "I do not ask you to do it for him, but for me. I cannot bear the thought of being again plunged into poverty, so I have humbled myself to come to you." Well, I'm sorry, but I can't do it, I can't," he said, gloomily. "Ä fortune like mine is not to be trifled with," he added. I mean it all for Doris when I've gone. She will be the richest woman in Yorkshire, my Doris will." Then Constance leaned forward in her chair, saying meaningly, Unless you help me now with sufficient money to make our mine all right, I will prevent your Doris from ever getting a half-penny oj your money. I can do it, and I will." Ambrose stared at her as if she had suddenly gone mad. "Don't talk such utter rubbish," he said. You must be crazy," and he raised his hand to touch the bell. Don't ring," she said, coolly, you will bitterly repent it if you don't hear me out." She thought for a few moments, and then said, very softly, Ambrose, have you ever considered that, in a way, you and Doris are in my power, and in that of my poor wretched husband." In your power?" he exclaimed, violently, "and in the power of that fool Adrian. No, indeed. You need not try that style over me, Constance. It won't do. It won't do, I tell you," and he abnost shouted in his rage. "Listen," said Constance. "Did it ever strike you that I had a purpose in taking care of Adrian's little Doris as well as yours, when they were children ? They were both so much alike, I sent away the nurse, if you recollect rightly, who knew 1 and loved your child the best. If, if I like, I can now swear in a court of justice, or before anyone on earth, that, whilst I had them in my care, I changed the children, and, when you came back, gave you Adrian's child for your daughter, and afterwards gave him-" "Goodness, gracious, Constance, you are clean gone mad cried Ambrose, his hair almost standing on end, and his eyes starting from his j head at the mere thought of what she was saying. | No more mad than you, Ambrose," returned i Constance, calmly. How do you know your | child?" j I know her because I know her," cried the J bewildered man. Why, she has the same coloured | eyes and hair as I have. Her features are very like mine. She has the same sort of chin, firm and i decided. One glance at Doris showed me that she j was my child." I What colour do you call your hair ? "Well, a sort of golden red brown, I suppose it is, or was, for it is growing grey. Doris's is just the colour it was at its best." And Dora's is the same, only coarser and more skimpy." Blast her Dora's is not to be compared to ours." ours. What colour are your eyes a,nd Doris's ?" per- sisted his tormentor. "Blue—pale blue." Dora's eyes are pale blue." "Dora be hanged!" cried Ambrose, now in a towering rage, I'll have you prosecuted for calumny—I'll—" "Don't; don't let the servants overhear," said Constance, calmly. And then you yourself told me Doris was my child," said Ambrose. "lam sare you could not tell me a lie. And I am quite, quite sure that ugly I little thing Dora does not belong to me." 0 Thanks for your good opinion of my veracity," said Constance, calmly. "I deserve it, for I did I not tell you a lie. I restored to you your child. I may have my faults, but I am faithful to my trust." Of course you are. What a. fright you gave me! And yet, of course, I did not believe it for one moment," said Ambrose, not for one moment, Constance. Still, the idea was horrible—hor- rible," he repeated. It will sound horrible when I swear it is a fact before a magistrate, or anyone else, won't it?" said Constance, with a cruel smile. What in the name of wonder do you mean ? he demanded. "What I say. It will sound horrible when I swear it, won't it ?" and she smiled again. "But how can you swear it? You have just said it isn't true!" Then Constance played her trump card. You cannot allow me to be ruined with impunity, Ambrose," she said. If you do not save me from ruin, I will ruin your dearest hopes. I will swear a lie. Adrian will swear it, too. One or two others shall be made to corroborate our story. It will be proved that Dora, Adrian's daughter, is your daughter, and Doris, your beloved child, is Adrian's." 11 Pooh you cannot do it. You cannot do it, I say," cried Ambrose. No court in the kingdom would believe such a trumped up story. I can swear that you have threatened me with this thing." But you have no witnesses," cried Constance, I triumphantly, "no witnesses at all. Now, have I you ? The servants were changed, they could not I swear to a child they had not seen for many years neither could the doctors. You see both girls have golden-red brown hair, both girls have pale blue eyes, both have square-cut determined-looking chins—one has a lovely complexion, but the other is horribly marked with small-pox marks. But that is an accident which mighthave happened to either. Who is to say whether it is your child or Adrian's which fell ill of small-pox when both fathers were far away ? "You fiend!" cried Ambrose, almost beside himself with rage, "you utter fiend Constance smiled, and her smile was so exasper- ating that he ground his teeth and clenched hia hands. Oh, if only you were not a woman he cried. "You would like to do to me as you did to my husband, no doubt," she said, tauntingly. You poor fool, you Why—why didn't you kill him whilst you were about it ? Then one of the false witnesses would be removed from the path." I believe—I believe you could swear any- thing," cried Ambrose, there are no limits, no limits," he repeated, to your power to deceive." Ambrose, I hate you," said Constance. When we were young you made me love you three times you swore that you were my lover, and I should be your wife. Then, when you were old enough to marry, you went and married someone else. Yes, twice you did it-and now-and now that I have you in my power, why should I spare you ? I swore a great oath that I would be revenged on you, and so, for other reasons, did Adrian. Now is my time. Now is his time. Ambrose, we will pay you back a portion of what we owe you." She rose as she spoke, as if she were about to go, and a great horror fell upon Ambrose that she would go and do as she said. Of course it was untrue, absurdly untrue, that his Doris was Adrian's child, and not his. But if these people came and swore the opposite in a court of justice, and if this clever, designing woman, came and told, in her clear, matter-of-fact way, all the circum- stantial evidence that went to show the probability of her story being correct, who was to prove that I it was false ? Judgment would be given that Dora, ugly, disfigured Dora, was his child, and that his beautiful Doris, the darling of his heart, belonged to Adrian Blair. Thus Adrian and this wicked wife of his would rob him of his child. His darling's heart would be broken. He could imagine the dis- tress in her dear face, the way in which she wouid look appealingly to him to disprove this thing. And he could only swear-swear that it was false. And who was to believe him ? You fiend he cried, again. You fiend I could slay you where you stand He rose feebly as he spoke, and groped about fer a weapon. Constance laughed scornfully—mockingly, then she said, On one condition only I will spare you ?" Name it name it cried the wretched man, grasping hold of the table, in a sudden paroxysm of pain caused by his trying to walk." Name it, and you shall have whatever you want-in reason." I want you to save the mine for us. Give me five hundred thousand pounds. I must have that amount at once." I cannot I cannot It is too much," gasped the miserable man, his hair almost standing on end at the enormity of the sum she required." "Very well," said Constance; "Behold your daughter," and she pointed to Dora, who had gently opened the door, and now stood, looking with astonishment at Ambrose Blair, elingmg to the table in what seemed like mortal agony. "No, it is not Doris, it is only me," she said, answering Mrs. Blair's remark as she ran round to support the half-fainting form of Doris's father. "Mr. Blair," said Constance, carelessly, "I accept the conditions. I will drive over to-morrow for what you agree to let me have. Au revoir," and, without a word to Dora, she went out of the room and through the hall to her carriage outside. Ambrose clung convulsively to the girl, as she helped him to lie down again upon the couch. Did you hear what that woman was saying as you entered ? he demanded. "I only heard her say Behold your daughter.' I suppose she thought it was Doris who was coming in," said Dora. I came, Mr. Blair, because I could not help overhearing loud and excited tones, and I thought, perhaps, I had better come myself, and tell her firmly, once for all, that I will not return with her. My parents so treated me that they have, I consider, forfeited all claims to my dutifulness." Quite so," replied Ambrose Blair. And," he thought, she is coming again to-niorrow to receive all that money. Shall I give it to her, or shall I not ?" (To be continued).

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