The Stolen Singer

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The Stolen Singer

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Stolen Singer, by Martha Idell
Fletcher Bellinger, Illustrated by Arthur William Brown
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Title: The Stolen Singer
Author: Martha Idell Fletcher Bellinger

Release Date: January 11, 2006 [eBook #17495]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE STOLEN SINGER
by
MARTHA BELLINGER
With Illustrations by Arthur William Brown

[Frontispiece: Miss Redmond detected a passage of glances between
them.]

Indianapolis The Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers Copyright 1911
The Bobbs-Merrill Company

TO
MY HUSBAND

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
TWILIGHT IN THE PARK II HAMBLETON OF LYNN III
MIDSUMMER MADNESS IV MR. VAN CAMP MAKES A CALL V

MELANIE'S DREAMS VI ON BOARD THE JEANNE D'ARC VII
THE ROPE LADDER VIII ON THE BREAST OF THE SEA IX THE
CAMP ON THE BEACH X THE HEART OF YOUTH XI THE
HOME PORT XII SEEING THE RAINBOW XIII ALECK SEES A
GHOST XIV SUSAN STODDARD'S PRAYER XV ECHOES FROM
THE CITY XVI A FIGHTING CHANCE XVII THE TURN OF THE
TIDE XVIII THE SPIRIT OF THE ANCIENT WOOD XIX MR.
CHAMBERLAIN, SLEUTH XX MONSIEUR CHATELARD TAKES
THE WHEEL XXI JIMMY REDIVIVUS XXII A MAN OF NO
PRINCIPLE XXIII JIMMY MUFFS THE BALL XXIV AFTER YOU,
MONSIEUR! EPILOGUE

ILLUSTRATIONS
Miss Redmond detected a passage of glances between them . . . . . .
(Frontispiece)
"That depends upon whether you are going to marry me."
"It does make one feel queer, you know."
She stood over him looking down tenderly.
"You shall not turn me down like this."

THE STOLEN SINGER
CHAPTER I
TWILIGHT IN THE PARK
"You may wait, Renaud."
The voice was firm, but the lady herself hesitated as she stepped from
the tonneau. There was no answer. Holding the flapping ends of her

veil away from her face, she turned and looked fairly at the driver of
the machine.
He seemed a businesslike, capable man, though certain minor details of
his chauffeur's rig were a bit unusual, and now that he had been obliged,
by some discomfort, to remove his goggles, his face appeared pleasant
and quite untanned. His passenger noted these things, remarking: "Oh,
it isn't Renaud!"
"No, Mademoiselle; Renaud hadn't showed up at the office when you
telephoned, so they put me on in his place."
"Ah, I see." Accent seemed to imply, however, that she was not quite
pleased. "The manager sent you. And your name is--?"
"My name--rather odd name--Hand."
The face half hidden behind the veil remained impassive. A moment's
hesitation, and then the lady turned away with a short, "You will wait?"
"As mademoiselle wishes. Or shall I perhaps follow slowly along the
drive?"
"No, wait here. I shall return--soon."
The young woman walked away, erect, well-poised, lifting skirts
skilfully as she paused a moment at the top of the stone steps leading
down into the tiny park. The driver of the machine, free from
observation, allowed a perplexed look to occupy his countenance.
"What the devil is to pay if she doesn't return--soon!"
The avenue lifts a camel's hump toward the sky in the space of fifteen
blocks, and on the top, secure as the howdah of a chieftain, stands the
noble portico of the old college. To the westward, as every one knows,
lie the river and the more pretentious park; on the east an abrupt
descent offers space for a small grassy playground for children, who
may be seen, during the sunny hours of the day, romping over the
slope.

As the gaze of the woman swept over the charming little pleasance, and
beyond, over the miles of sign-boards, roofs, chimneys, and
intersecting streets, the serious look disappeared from her face.
Summer haze and distance shed a gentle beauty over what she knew to
be a clamoring city--New York. Angles were softened, noises subdued,
sensational scenes lost in the dimmed perspective. To a chance
observer, the prospect would have been deeply suggestive; in the
woman it stirred many memories. She put back her veil; her face
glowed; a long sigh escaped her lips. Slowly she walked down the steps,
along the sloping path to a turn, where she sank down on a bench. A
rosy, tired child, rather the worse for mud-pies, and hanging reluctantly
at the hand of