Dorothy's Tour Part 15

THE TOUR BEGINS.

On his way downtown, Jim paused in front of Lebolt's on Fifth avenue, one of New York's biggest jewelry houses. The windows were full of attractive pieces of jewelry. One thing in particular caught his eye, a little pendant of gold and pearls. He thought at once of Dorothy and wanted very much to give her something--something nice because of the previous day's happenings--something that would help her to remember him very often--a little token of his regard.

He went inside and inquired of a clerk where he could see pendants, and was directed to a near counter. He was shown many, and after having quite a hard time choosing which he liked best at a price he could afford to pay he finally decided on a little bunch of grapes formed of a cl.u.s.ter of pearls, with the leaves and vine of gold hung on a slender chain--altogether a very dainty and appropriate gift. And he left the store thinking of how he would present this to Dorothy, for he wanted no one to know of his reasons for giving it to her but himself--and she.

Taking a car he soon came to the vicinity of the lawyer's office and looking over the bulletin at the entrance he located a sign with his name upon it. On reaching a small outer office he asked of a pleasant faced girl sitting there, "Can I see Mr. Van Zandt? I have a package and letter to deliver to him personally."

"Mr. Van Zandt," answered the girl, "is just now very busy. He is conferring with another lawyer, and I cannot disturb him, as he left word that on no account and for no one should I bother him. He will not be much longer, and if you would care to wait for a half hour, I am sure that you could see him then."

"I will wait," said Jim in reply. The girl then showed him into a little library off to one side of the office where there were some easy chairs. Picking out one that looked particularly comfortable to him he took up a magazine from the well laden table, and seating himself started to read.

After waiting half an hour or more, he was finally admitted into a room wherein sat Mr. Van Zandt, at a desk strewn entirely with legal papers.

"Mr. Van Zandt, I am from Mrs. Calvert. She sent me here with a letter and package for you," said Jim.

"Most opportune, most opportune," answered Mr. Van Zandt, gravely, taking the letter and package from Jim.

"Excuse me, young man, excuse me, while I see what Mrs. Calvert has to say," he added, breaking the seal of Aunt Betty's letter and slowly reading its contents. "Ah! So you are the Jim she speaks of in the letter, and says I may question concerning these matters?"

"Yes, indeed," responded Jim. "Is there anything you would like to ask me?"

"No. Not that I just think of now. But I have a little story to tell you. Listen carefully and see if you can repeat the same to Mrs.

Calvert, when you see her later this afternoon," replied Mr. Van Zandt. "This was told me by a fellow colleague, the man you no doubt saw leave this office as you entered it. Strange how things come about. Long years ago there was an English family named Winchester, a father and mother and six children, four of them girls and two boys.

The parents were very strict with their children, and one boy, the oldest, ran away from home, and was never heard of by the old people again. The youngest girl had a very pretty love affair, but because her parents disapproved, and I believe they would have disapproved of a saint from heaven if he wished to marry their child Marrie, she took the vows and became a sister. Two died very young, and the other two daughters lived to be old maids, and in time all died.

"The runaway son married, so much we have learned, and had one very beautiful daughter, who after, mother fashion, also ran away and married. The daughter's name was Dorothy Winchester. The man she married was a Calvert. These two died early deaths, leaving behind, so 'tis said, a little daughter named after the mother, Dorothy Winchester Calvert."

"Our Dorothy," whispered Jim.

"Now, it seems to me that Mrs. Calvert was sister-in-law to the Calvert that married the beautiful Dorothy Winchester. And from what I know, Dorothy Calvert, Mrs. Calvert's ward, is the child of the former two. But as a large estate, consisting of much property in England and a great deal of money, is left to the heir or heirs of this Dorothy Winchester, we shall have to have legal proof that this girl is the right child. And when the right proof is found, my colleague will turn over to me the various papers and deeds to the estate. And after proving herself the legal heir of this estate, Miss Calvert may have to take a trip to England to see the London solicitors and straighten matters out there. They have been working on this estate for many years now, and finally, but only recently traced the son to America.

That is how things have come to this point now. Will you tell Mrs.

Calvert and Dorothy that I would like to see them at their earliest convenience, bringing letters, pictures and any other form of proof they may have with them?"

"I will tell them that, sir."

"Very well. Good afternoon, young man, good afternoon," and Mr. Van Zandt closed the interview.

Jim, after leaving Mr. Van Zandt, hurried back to the hotel, all the time thinking of the wonderful story he had to tell to Dorothy. He also wondered just how things would stand between them if Dorothy became a great English heiress. On reaching the hotel he went straight up to the girl's rooms and there found Dorothy weeping in Aunt Betty's lap.

"I have such good news, such wonderful news," cried Jim. "I can't wait to tell you. Why, Dorothy, what has happened? Tell me," he added, catching sight of Dorothy at her aunt's feet, her face in her lap.

Just then Dorothy smiled up at him and said, "Nothing. I was just a little foolish. Go on and tell us all your wonderful news. I would rather hear good news than tell sad, any day."

"I have just come from your lawyer's, Mr. Van Zandt's, where I heard a most wonderful story. I gave him the letter and package. He read the former, and said he would give the matter attention. I had to wait for over a half hour. He was conferring with a colleague," continued Jim.

"Oh, do hurry and get to the real story part," said the ever impatient Alfaretta.

"Be still, Alfy. How can Jim tell us while you are talking?" commanded Dorothy.

"To go on where I left off," continued Jim, "Mr. Van Zandt said that his colleague told him a story which he would tell me and which I was to repeat to you.

"It seems that many years ago a family named Winchester had a large estate and plenty of money in England. They had children, and one, the eldest, ran away, came to America and married. He had a little daughter who grew up to be very beautiful. Her name was Dorothy Winchester."

At this point in the story, Aunt Betty heaved a great sigh, and grew quite pale.

"The beautiful young girl ran off with a handsome young man whose name was Calvert. And, Mrs. Calvert, the lawyer thought that to be your brother-in-law. The young couple suffered early deaths, leaving a child, a girl named after the mother, Dorothy Winchester Calvert.

That, dear, is you," and Jim paused to see the effect of his words.

Dorothy had risen, and coming to him, placed her hands in his and said, "Is this all true or just a joke?" looking eagerly in his eyes for the answer.

"Yes," answered Jim, with an attempt at gaiety, "yes, all true."

"Then do I understand that all Dorothy has to do is to prove she is Dorothy Winchester Calvert and she will come into this inheritance?"

said Aunt Betty.

"Yes. Mr. Van Zandt said for me to tell you that he would like to see you and Dorothy as early as possible in the morning, and for you to bring with you any proofs, such as letters, pictures, etc., which you have handy in your possession," instructed Jim.

The word pictures immediately recalled to Dorothy her late misfortune, and she turned to Aunt Betty, saying, "Dear Aunt Betty, there is all my proof gone--the pictures in that locket. They would have been just what was needed, and now the locket is gone."

"Why has the locket gone?" questioned Jim.

"That is the sad news we had to tell you when you came in with the good news," said Mrs. Calvert. "Dorothy has either mislaid or someone has stolen her locket, the one I gave her with the pictures of her father and mother in it."

"There," interrupted Alfy. "There is someone knocking. Maybe it is the manager returning with the locket. It's an hour since he said that he would have it back to Dorothy in that time."

The manager entered and came over to Mrs. Calvert's chair, and said, "I am very sorry, madam, but I have not been able to recover mademoiselle's trinket. It is nowhere to be found. I have had three maids searched, three of them, who readily admitted going into the suite upstairs. The maids were very angry, and threatened to leave my employ. Nothing could be found. We have found no trace of it at all.

All we can do, madam, is to hope. I will get a detective and have him try to locate the thief. Is it of great value?"

"Just now we have had news that makes the locket of precious value. An estate, a large inheritance, hangs upon its recovery, as therein lies the only proof we have, or, I should say, did have," answered Mrs.

Calvert.

"We will do all we can," continued the manager, "and make every effort to restore the locket as quickly as possible." He then departed, and prepared to have the lost article traced without any delay.

"I have my list of clothes and things that are missing and will have to be replaced all made out," said Alfy to Mrs. Calvert.

"Very good," answered Aunt Betty. "Come into your room and I will look over your things and verify the list and see if you need anything else beside what you have written down." Alfy and Aunt Betty went off to see about the outlay necessary to replace the loss Alfy sustained from the fire.

No sooner had they gone than Jim came over to Dorothy, looked into her eyes and said, "Girl, will this--this estate, make any difference--if the large fortune comes to you? I was so glad to hear the news, and be the one to tell you of it while I was there with Mr. Van Zandt, but somehow on my way back to the hotel I became sorry, sorry because it will mean that you will be a great English heiress, and I--I--"

"You, Jim? You will always be my great big Jim," said Dorothy, with a sweet, sincere smile. "But isn't it too bad that the locket just disappeared when we needed it? And, fortune or no fortune, it's the only picture I had of my own mother."

"Girl," said Jim, softly, taking the small purple velvet box out of his vest pocket, "I brought you this. It's only a little remembrance of what has gone between us. Just a little token of my eternal regard for you. I wish it could have been more." And he placed the little jewel box in Dorothy's hands. He watched her carefully, noting the pleasure in her face when she opened the box and saw the dainty pendant encased in the white satin. Carefully she drew it out.

"Oh, what a beauty!" exclaimed the girl. "Jim, dear, you are so good and thoughtful. It's just as good and dainty as it can be, and far too good for me."

"Let me clasp it around your neck for you," he replied. "I am glad you like it."

But when he had his arms around the girl's neck, clasping the slender chain in place, Jim could not resist the temptation of drawing her close to him. She did not resist, so he held her closer for a moment in a fond embrace, and then raising her head, their lips met in a loving kiss.