The lost clue

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

Mrs. St. Hellier seemed an exceedingly pleasant woman, and Marjorie felt much drawn to her. After a little conversation on general subjects, she told them that a friend of hers was most anxious to find some one who would be willing to act as companion to her daughter. This young lady had met with an accident in the hunting-field, and was confined to her room, or rather to her rooms, for she was wheeled on an invalid couch into an adjoining apartment where she lay during the day, unable to move or to raise herself from her recumbent position.

The poor girl of course felt the confinement; the monotony of such an existence was a sad change for her, after the active life which she had been accustomed to lead, and her mother was therefore anxious to find some one who would be willing to come to them as her daughter's companion. She would have no work of any kind to do; the lady's maid would undertake, as usual, all that was necessary in dressing and otherwise waiting upon her daughter. She simply wanted one who would be a cheerful companion, and who would be ready to read to her, to amuse her, and to turn her thoughts as much as possible from her helpless condition.

Then Mrs. St. Hellier went on to say that she had heard from Colonel Verner that Miss Douglas was looking for something of the kind, and she wanted to know whether she would like her to name her to Lady Earlswood. She thought she was at liberty to tell her that the remuneration would be a handsome one; fifty pounds a year was the amount mentioned by Lady Earlswood when she spoke to her on the subject.

Marjorie felt that this was indeed an answer to the prayers she had offered, and she gratefully accepted Mrs. St. Hellier's proposal that she should write to her friend without further delay.

In the course of the following week, Marjorie received a kind letter from Lady Earlswood, and in a very short time, all the preliminary arrangements were made, and she once more took leave of her home, and set off for Grantley Castle.

What a wonderful contrast she found on her arrival to her reception at Daisy Bank! A footman with a cockade on his hat came up to her on the platform, and told her that he would see after her luggage, and that the carriage was outside waiting for her. During the five miles' drive to the Castle, Marjorie leant back amongst the cushions of the luxuriously comfortable brougham, and wondered very much what was in store for her in the new home to which she was going.

When the carriage stopped, she was taken through the marble hall, and at the top of the long flight of steps, she found the housekeeper awaiting her.

"Lady Earlswood is out this afternoon, Miss Douglas," she said, "so she asked me to receive you. May I take you to your room? You will find a good fire, I think, and I will send you some tea in a few minutes. Lady Violet has had tea, so perhaps you would like to have it in your own room."

Marjorie thanked her, and followed her up the wide staircase into the bedroom which she was henceforth to call her own. It was not a large room, but it was most beautifully furnished. A pretty French bedstead, with dainty rosebud-covered hangings, a comfortable sofa covered with the same delicate chintz, an easy-chair by the bright fire, a writing-table, with inkstand, blotter and pens, at which she would be able to write her home letters—all these made Marjorie feel that she had come to a home where comfort and ease abounded.

Then she went to the window. It was not yet dark, and she could see hills and woods in every direction, whilst close to the house were three long terraces, one above another, from the various heights of which glorious views of the surrounding country could be obtained. What a strange contrast to the views from her bedroom window in Colwyn House!