VELVET AND STEEL

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 57, Issue 26, 10 November 1936, Page 8

VELVET AND STEEL

SERIAL STORY

By PEARL BELLAIRS.

Copyright

SYNOPSIS. Joan Denby, youthful and slender, with wistful hazel eyes, is introduced to society on arrival at Hotel Mediterranee at Cannes more as the social equal of Hiss Georgina la Fontaine than her salaried secretary-companion. Joan, of humble origin, had been educated by the La Fontaine family. Georgina wants her to marry weft and encourages her interest in the rich Lord Edward Bla"h, for whom she has little respect; and” Piers Hannen, of fine physique, the masterful head of the Hannen steel and iron works, for whom, on account of his arrogant manners and pugnacious countenance, she has revulsion. “He makes my flesh creep,” she tells Georgina, who replies that Piers is the soul of honour. CHAPTER 11. A FRANK OPINION. There were quite a number of guests on the Corsair when Joan and her companiions wuiit aboard her off the launch which took them out to the yacht. Piers Hannen was already on board* and came to meet them at the head of the gangway; lie looked less like a gladiator and more like the millionaire manufacturer that he _ was wearing, as he did now, a, blue jacket and perfectly cut white trousei s; but Joan thought that he looked stronger and uglier than ever. As soon as she glanced up from the launch she saw him leaning over the rail, and the gaze of liis blue eyes fastened upon her; and when she got to the top of the ladder and had to take the strong hand he held out to assist her, his eyes still devoured her. Ho kissed Miss la Fontaine’s hand with polite affection, bowed to Joan when they were introduced, and took no notice whatever of Lord Ediv aid. This gave Lord Edward no opportunity to complain about the dust when lieis had passed them in his car. “This is delightful!” said Miss la Fontaine, glancing about her. “Shfe’s ai nice boat,” said Piers Hannen, without taking his eyes off Joan. “She nearly sank and drowned me, coming through the Bay last week.” “That’s because you will come round from Southampton by sea instead of coming through the canals!” said Lord Edward. Hannen removed his gaze from Joan’s face in order to look his contempt for poor old Edward Blagli, as ho always called that young man, and Joan experienced a distinct relief. She did not know whether he always stared when he mot a person for the first time —oi- whether bo happened to be particularly impressed by her. If that were the case —she composed herself to look distant; she did not want to have anything to do witli Piers Hannen. With an inward smile and,a tremor of nervousness, she turned from glancing round the snowy deck to look at him coldly. And: lie was looking at her again. “Awfully good of you to bring Miss Denby, Georgina,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to meet Miss Denby.” But he became casual then and took no more notice of her, except, when they descended to the saloon, to introduce her to a man or two, and a beautifully dressed woman among the group of people engaged in drinking cocktails. She had a cocktail, and while she drank it, with Lord Edward talking attentively at her side, she heard scrap's of the conversation which their host was having with the others. They were talking, of all things, about the Hannen factory, and on the walls of the saloon was a photograph of the immense new concrete building which had been erected in Poplar near to the site of the old factory. Joan saw Miss la Fontaine glance at her. Poor old Georgie! She was always so much more nervous for Joan’s sake about her humble origin than Joan was herself. Rother intrigued, Joan moved nearer to the photograph and smiled at the great outlines of the familiar building in which her father laboured as an ordinary working man. “Good Heavens!” said Lord Edward in her ear. “I can’t understand a feller connected with that sort of thing —manufacture, you know—being so proud of it! Hannen spends half his time in the place, actually works in the shops or whatever they call them. No need for it—l’ll bet the business would run itself without him. Can’t understand it!” “Machinery fascinates me,” Piers Hannen was saying. “The whole thing is tremendous. Steel—iron —■ power! Think of a stamping press—marvellous, merely to watch!” “You’re something of a stamping press yourself,” Lord Edward declared, peevishly, for everyone to bear. “Or a steam roller! You don’t wait, you simply push past! That car of yours nearly ran us off the road on the way down to the harbour!” “Oh!” Piers Hannon laughed. “That wasn’t my chauffeur’s fault. I was driving.” “So we supposed,” said Lord Edward. • Piers Hannen closed his hand on Lord Edward’s meagre arm, and said gently: “I go where I want, Edward, as fast as I like. I do what I want; and what I want I take. Nobody stops me!” “Exactly as Miss Denby was saying!” crowed Lord Edward. Joan would have drawn hack, unwilling to bo dragged into any conflict; this Piers Hannen was too overpowering a person for her altogether; he smiled at her qnestioningly now, but all the time as she looked at him she was conscious of that sear in his ribs, under the shirt and the beautifully cut coat. How far he must have driven anyone, even the wildest South'American dancer, to have got that knife thrust—! She was revolted. “What did Miss Denby say?” “She said that she had looked at you once, and she knew all about you.” “Really ” said Piers Hannen, and the way in which lie quietly put Lord Edward to one side by! the arm he was holding, as though he had finished with

him, almost made Joan laugh, it was so in keeping with his character. He faced Joan, and smiling, wanted to know what her conclusions wtre? “Well, if you really want to know,” said Joan, with a smile, determined not to be afraid of him. “I said that you never considered anything or anybody but yourself and your own pleasure.” “And you are sure of this after seeing me only once?” “Certainly—from the terrace of the Hotel Mediterranee. You were down on the plage.” “Good heavens!” he exclaimed, and added after a pause, “But really I’m most unselfiesh. Ask my chauffeur if 1 keep him waiting for me late at night—ask anyone who works for me — No I’m most unselfish!” _ . But she saw that he did not care in the least, and was laughing. And she saw that her ill-opinion only made him all the more anxious to know her ; his look became so inquisitively appraising that she evaded him by looking again at the photograph of the Hannen factory, and then turning away to go to Miss la Fontaine’s side. At luncheon she sat next to Lord Edward; the conversation still ran upon the steel industry, and Piers Hannen was talking about the recent metal workers’ strike, and how it had' affected the Hannen works. “These fellows,” said Lord Edward. “They don’t know what they want. They’ll be asking for the moon next.” “Oh, probably!” said Piers Hannen. They talk so glibly about it, Joan thought. She was used to it, but seeing Piers Hannen sit there so casually setting aside the claims to comfort of such persons as her mother, and her sister and her two little brothers, she was angry. She wished that she was not eating his food; he was the last person on earth one would wish to be grateful to. “But Still, you know, neither you nor I, my dear Edward', would care to change places with them,” Hannen added, a. trifle grimly. But to Joan it only sounded smug. He took no more notice of her, and she thankfully believed that her deliberate evasion in turning away from him in the saloon when lie had looked so eager had offended him enough to make him forget her. And she could look round and admire the satin wood panelling of the dining saloon without feeling that she was watched. When the admirable luncheon was over the ladies went on deck, where a steward served them with coffee, and presently the men joined them there. Lord Edward immediately sat down by Joan; his attentions to-day were more marked than ever; now he talked about his country home, Blagh Castle, in Rutlandshire as though her interest in it must lie a very particular one. Joan listened, and while she listened she watched Piers Hannen, who was seated opposite with his back to the rail, talking to Miss la Fontaine. She noticed that Piers Hannen keptglancing towards her; and then after a time lie fixed her with his eye while he was talking to Miss la Fontaine about her; Georgie smiled her wise, slightly malicious old smile as though she were pleased by what he said. After a time Lord Edward himself noticed it. “They’re talking about you —or about us!” he said. “What are they saying?” And he called out: “What are you talking about, Piers?” “I beg your pardon?” said Piers Hannen. Lord Edward insisted on going over to investigate and Joan reluctantly followed. “What were you saying about us?” asked Lord Edward as Piers Hannen rose. “Us?” said Piers. “Us? Do you think I was talking about you? I was talking about Miss Denby.” “And what do you know about Miss Denby?” “Well, she considers herself competent to know everything about my character—after one single glance! Isn’t that so, Miss Denby?” Joan smiled and did not deny it. “So it’s perfectly fair!” said Piers Hannen. “I was just making my opinion of Miss Denby as she made known her opinion of me!” “Good!” said Joan, with a smile and turned away. His expression and his manner offended and made her uneasy, and she was not going to invite any more of it. “You are not going to ask what he said?” Miss la Fontaine inquired. “No, darling,” said Joan, turning her back on Piers Hannen. vShe suggested to 'Lord Edward that they should go forward into the bows of the yacht to look at the view of Cannes across the harbour. “If one is allowed?” she said to Piers Hannen, coldly raising her brows, but feeling absurdly youthful and rather afraid of him. “Certainly!” replied Piers Hannen, with every vestige of a smile wiped out of his face. Joan and Lord Edward walked away, and he sat down again beside Miss la Fontaine; he was so unsmiling, so thoughtful, that Miss la Fontaine was a little annoyed by Joan’s behaviour, showing so openly that she disliked him ; but, suddenly he smacked his clenched fist into his hand and broke into a laugh. Miss la Fontaine looked mutely inquiring. “Where have you been hiding that girl all these years, Georgina?” he asked. “She is the daughter of some Old friends,” Miss la Fontaine explained vaguely. “I really look after her you know—though she is supposed to be my Secretary. . . How hard things are in these days for all of us—!” “What are you doing this evening? Stay with Miss Denby and have dinner on board. The others are going ashore.” “Lord Edward is dining with us at the Hotel Mediterranee, I’m afraid.” “Well, he can’t, Georgina, that’s all!’? “My dear Piers!” “All right. I’ll have dinner with -you at the Mediterranee, too.” “You know I would love you to come.” “That’s all right, because I’m coming.” “What on earth has put yon on the warpath so suddenly?” Miss la Fontaine smilingly inquired. Inwardly she asked: “Is it Joan, I wonder?” Small wonder if it was—Joan was exactly the woman for him. Piers Hannen merely replied: “I’ll be there at seven.” CHAPTER 111. “HE MAKES MY FLESH CREEP” In her room at the Hotel Mediterranee that evening, Joan was slipping into a frock of torquoise coloured chif-

fon; it was qnite a business, getting it on, sliding into its soft coolness, that moulded itself to every line when it was on, andl cascaded into little waves of turquoise from the knees down. Georgina’s maid had helped Joan to dress, and when she had finished Georgina came in to admire the frock, “It goes so charmingly with your golden head!” said Miss la Fontaine. “Brown eyes and golden hair—the gods blessed you, my dear, when you were born.” “Most of the blessing has been done by you, Georgie!” Joan said. “So much against my will, too! I’m having a lovely time here with you—and I ought to be looking about for a job as a mannequin, getting ready to strike out for myself!” “Give up that silly idea of earning a living,” said Miss la Fontaine. “Besides, don’t you earn a living with me?” “Darling, I must do something for myself. After all you have done for me, I must make something of myself.” “If you want to do something for yourself that will he really worth doing,” said Miss la Fontaine briskly, “bo very nice to Lord Edward, and make him feel that he cannot possibly do without you!” “But I can do so well without him!” said Joan, pouting her pretty, tender mouth. “But my dear, lie is such a nice man, really! And I know that once he had made up his mind to it there need be no difficulty—l mean, I sometimes think that you feel the difficulty about your family too deeply, Joan.” Miss la Fontaine looked very regal in her black chiffon velvet and pearls, and her look of whimsical kindness became her fine featured, aristocratic face.

“No, Georgie, you are wrong there. I promise you that the only reason why I should turn Lord Edward down is that I don’t care for him one little bit!” “His perfectly delightful villa that we saw only yesterday!” coaxed Miss la Fontaine, laughingly. “Doesn’t that soften your heart a litjtle ?” “A little, but not nearly enough.” “Why, if you asked for it Lord Edward would give you a yacht more magnificent than Piers Hannen’s!” “Oh that man!” was all Joan said, as she turned away. “Yes,” said Miss la; Fontaine, and added drily: “By the way—he is coming to dinner to-night.” v “Piers Hannen!” “He’s charming, really; I don’t know why you dislike him. Do you dislike him?” Joan turned to her with a little shudder, and said fervently, though her cheeks dimpled as she did so: “Georgie, he makes my flesh creep!” . Miss la Fountaine trailed out majestically, with a silvery laugh. (To be Continued). (The characters in this story are entirely imaginary, and no reference to living persons is intended.)