The Lost Clue - Abridged Edition

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The Lost Clue - Abridged Edition Page 20

by Mrs. O. F. Walton


  "Not from any of them?"

  "Oh no. Now, will you tell me what you have been doing?"

  "Well, things have brightened a bit for me. As I told your mother in my letter, I am better off than I was. I am leaving Mrs. Hall."

  "Poor Mrs. Hall."

  "Yes, she seems sorry to lose me, good old soul."

  "Where are you going to live? At the other end of Birmingham?"

  "No, right out in the country."

  "Not the Daisy Bank way?" she asked, laughing.

  "No, north of Birmingham."

  "I'm so glad you will be in the country. I love the country, and it will be so restful for you after your hard work in the city."

  "Yes, I hope it will. Well, I feel sure it will."

  "What is the name of the place?"

  "North Eaton."

  "Have you got nice lodgings there? "

  "No, I am not going into lodgings again. I am going to start housekeeping."

  "Housekeeping? Have you got a house?"

  "I have had one for a few weeks now."

  "Is there a garden?"

  "A nice garden; and the house is -- well, rather a nice house, I think. It only wants one thing. Marjorie dear. Can you not guess what that one thing is?"

  She was bending over Laddie, so that he could not see her face.

  "Can you guess, Marjorie?"

  She shook her head.

  "You can't guess?" he whispered, as he took hold of the hand which was stroking Laddie's head. "Then I shall be obliged to tell you. Marjorie darling, it wants you."

  Chapter 30

  The Missing Word Found

  IT WAS a lovely morning in June, and the little village of Rosthwaite was all astir and filled with pleasurable excitement. Some were standing at their doors, and others were looking out of their windows. From many a farm on the hillside, from many a lonely cottage, people were coming in little groups towards the church. The whole place, so quiet at other times, was filled with life and movement. Work was laid aside and everyone was in holiday attire, for it was Marjorie Douglas's wedding day.

  Everyone loved her. She had grown up among them from childhood. She had gone in and out among them as a friend, and they were loath to part with her. But on her wedding day they knew they must not think of that. She must see none but bright faces. Old Mary had hobbled on her stick all the way from Seatoller. Sarah Grisedale had come down from the mountains and had waited an hour in the churchyard before the time of the wedding, and many another whom Marjorie had helped and comforted was there in the little church to pray for a blessing on the fair young bride.

  The wedding was by license, and the Vicar, at the bridegroom's dictation, had filled up the required information in the register before the arrival of the bridal party. Only two people knew what name was written there, above the name of Marjorie Douglas. The clergyman knew, of course, for he had written the words; and Mrs. Douglas knew. Kenneth had told her the night before. Marjorie herself had no idea, as yet, of the future that lay before her, or of the name which would that day become hers.

  It was a pretty, though quiet wedding, and as Mrs. Douglas heard Kenneth's strong voice saying, in tones of deepest feeling, "I, Kenneth, take thee, Marjorie, to my wedded wife," she felt that she was giving her child to one whom she could fully trust; one who was not only a kind and honourable man, but who was, above all things, a true servant of the Lord Jesus Christ.

  Then came the signing of the names in the marriage registers. Mrs. Douglas was talking to Marjorie while Kenneth signed both books, and then the clergyman called her to write her name below. He had placed the blotting paper over the upper line on which Kenneth's name stood.

  "Do you mind leaving it there, Marjorie?" he said. "I am particular about the neatness of my registers, and the lace on your sleeve may blot it."

  Marjorie laughed, and wrote her name without removing the blotting paper which covered the entry above. Then the books were closed, and the bridal party drove to Fernbank, amidst the cheers and good wishes of the villagers.

  About an hour afterwards, Colonel Verner's carriage stood at the gate, waiting to convey the bride and bridegroom to Keswick station, and Kenneth and Marjorie came down the garden, followed by the whole family, including old Dorcas. Then the last goodbyes were said, and they drove off. At the bridge, Kenneth stopped the carriage. He had forgotten his stick, he said.

  He soon returned with it, but Marjorie did not know that he had purposely left it behind in order to slip a small envelope into her mother's hand. And when Mrs. Douglas opened it, after the carriage had driven away, she found that it contained a check for four thousand pounds.

  The honeymoon was not to be a long one. Only a fortnight in Scotland amidst the beauties of the Northern Highlands. Kenneth was anxious to get back to Eagleton, for he had much to arrange there, and Marjorie was eager to see her new home.

  She asked many questions about it during their wedding tour.

  "Will all be ready when we arrive?"

  "Oh yes, the servants are there."

  "Servants? Are we able to afford to keep two? Will it not be too extravagant?"

  He could not help smiling when she said this, and nearly let his secret out.

  "Wait till we get home, Marjorie," he said, "and if you then think it is too many, we can send one away."

  At another time she wanted to know how many rooms there were in the house, and what it was like. He told her that he was a bad hand at describing places, so she would have to wait to see it when they got there.

  "Is it a large house? "

  "Larger than Mrs. Hall's."

  "As big as Fernbank? "

  "Yes," he said, laughing, "quite as big as Fernbank."

  And so the happy fortnight passed away, and the day arrived on which they were to return home.

  "First-class tickets again. How extravagant you are, Kenneth!" she said, as they got into the train.

  "One isn't married every day, Marjorie, and this is our honeymoon, remember."

  Some hours later Kenneth stood up. "We are near North Eaton, Marjorie," he said. "I think it is the next station."

  Marjorie looked eagerly out of the window. "What lovely countryside," she said. "I am so glad I am to live in such a pretty place."

  "The train is slowing down now, Marjorie."

  "Oh, Kenneth, there is such a beautiful carriage waiting at the station, with a pair of lovely cream-colored horses."

  "Very likely. There are several large estates in the neighbourhood."

  A footman was standing on the platform, and came to the carriage door touching his hat.

  Kenneth got out and spoke to him, and walked with him a little way down the platform. Then he came back to where Marjorie was standing.

  "Now, Marjorie, we will go to the carriage. Charles will see after the luggage."

  "What carriage?"

  "The one you saw standing on the road outside."

  "Whose is it?"

  "Lord Derwentwater's. It is going to drive us home."

  "Do you know Lord Derwentwater, Kenneth?"

  "Yes, very well."

  "How kind of him to send his carriage for us," Marjorie observed.

  They got in, and were soon driving rapidly along the road to Eagleton.

  "Will we be home soon?" she asked presently.

  "Yes, very soon now. It is about two miles, I think."

  Marjorie was too excited even to talk now. She was longing to see her new home, of which she knew so little.

  "Kenneth," she said, about ten minutes later, "where are we going? We are stopping before a lodge, and they are opening the great gates. They must have made some mistake."

  "No mistake at all, dearest. It is quite right."

  "But look at this lovely avenue. We seem to be getting near some grand house. Are you sure it is all right, Kenneth?"

  "Quite right, darling. Look ahead, and you will see the house more clearly in a minute."

  They came out of the shade of the
avenue into the bright evening sunshine beyond, and there before them, in all its magnificence, stood Eagleton Castle.

  "Marjorie, do you like your home? "

  "Kenneth," she said, in a half-frightened whisper, "I can't understand it. What does it all mean?"

  "It means, my dear little woman, that I have found out the missing word in the letter, and that you are Lady Derwentwater!"

  THE END

  More books from White Tree Publishing are on the next pages, many of which are available as both eBooks and paperbacks. More Christian books than those listed are planned for 2016-2017.

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  The reference to the verses for the day are given, for you to look up and read in your preferred Bible translation.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9932760-7-1

  116 pages 5x7.8 inches

  e-Book ISBN: 978-0-9933941-4-0

  A Previously Unpublished Book

  The Simplicity of the Incarnation

  J Stafford Wright

  Foreword by J I Packer

  “I believe in ... Jesus Christ ... born of the Virgin Mary.” A beautiful stained glass image, or a medical reality? This is the choice facing Christians today. Can we truly believe that two thousand years ago a young woman, a virgin named Mary, gave birth to the Son of God? The answer is simple: we can.

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  In this uplifting book from a previously unpublished and recently discovered manuscript, J Stafford Wright investigates the reality of the incarnation, looks at the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, and helps the reader understand more of the Trinity and the certainty of eternal life in heaven.

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  160 pages 5.25 x 8 inches

  Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

  eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-5-7

  Bible People Real People

  An Unforgettable A-Z of Who is Who in the Bible

  In a fascinating look at real people, J Stafford Wright shows his love and scholarly knowledge of the Bible as he brings the characters from its pages to life in a memorable way.

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  This is a lively, well-informed study of some great Bible characters. Professor Gordon Wenham MA PhD. Tutor in Old Testament at Trinity College Bristol and Emeritus Professor of Old Testament at the University of Gloucestershire.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-5-6

  314 pages 6x9 inches

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  Christians and the Supernatural

  J Stafford Wright

  There is an increasing interest and fascination in the paranormal today. To counteract this, it is important for Christians to have a good understanding of how God sometimes acts in mysterious ways, and be able to recognize how he can use our untapped gifts and abilities in his service. We also need to understand how the enemy can tempt us to misuse these gifts and abilities, just as Jesus was tempted in the wilderness.

  In this single volume of his two previously published books on the occult and the supernatural (Understanding the Supernatural and Our Mysterious God) J Stafford Wright examines some of the mysterious events we find in the Bible and in our own lives. Far from dismissing the recorded biblical miracles as folk tales, he is convinced that they happened in the way described, and explains why we can accept them as credible.

  The writer says: When God the Holy Spirit dwells within the human spirit, he uses the mental and physical abilities which make up a total human being . . . The whole purpose of this book is to show that the Bible does make sense.

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  Paperback ISBN 13: 9-780-9525-9564-9

  222 pages 5.25 x 8 inches

  Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

  eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-4-0

  Howell Harris

  His Own Story

  Foreword by J. Stafford Wright

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  ISBN: 978-0-9933941-9-5

  Howell Harris was brought up to regard the Nonconformists as "a perverted and dangerously erroneous set of people." Hardly a promising start for a man who was to play a major role in the Welsh Revival. Yet in these extracts from his writings an
d diaries we can read the thoughts of Howell Harris before, during and after his own conversion.

  We can see God breaking through the barriers separating "church and chapel", and discover Christians of different denominations preparing the country for revival. Wesley, Whitefield, Harris. These great 18th century preachers worked both independently and together to preach the Living Gospel. This book is a vivid first-hand account of the joys, hardships and struggles of one of these men -- Howell Harris (1714-1773).

  From the Streets of London

  to the Streets of Gold

  The Life Story of

  Brother Clifford Edwards

  A True Story of Love

  by

  Brother Clifford Edwards

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  ISBN: 978-0-9933941-8-8

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  This is the personal story of Clifford Edwards, affectionately known as Brother Clifford by his many friends. Going from fame to poverty, he was sleeping on the streets of London with the homeless for twenty years, until Jesus rescued him and gave him an amazing mission in life. Brother Clifford tells his true story here in the third person, giving the glory to Jesus.

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  The Gospel of John

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  Published to coincide with the 400th anniversary of the Authorized King James Version of the Bible, this book contains the full text of Bagster’s assembled work for the Gospel of John. On each page in parallel columns are the words of the six most important translations of the New Testament into English, made between 1380 and 1611. Below the English is the original Greek text after Scholz.

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