"In Double Harness."

Auckland Star, Volume XXXV, Issue 94, 20 April 1904, Page 9

"In Double Harness."

By AKTHONY HOPE. Author of "Dolly Dialogues," " Prisoner of Zenda," " Rupert of Hentzau," etc., etc.

r CHAPTER XTV. FOR HIS LOVE AND HIS QUARREL. Jeremy Chiddingfold had established - himself in London, greatly to his satisfaction. He had hired a bedroom in injury-street, an attic, and made friends with one Alec Turner, a journalist, who- lodged in the same house. Alec Turner took him often to the Metropolitan Radical Club, and had proposed him for membership. Here he could eat at moderate charges, play chess, smoke and argue about all things in Beaven (assiiming heaven) and earth ["(which anyhow was full of matter for argument). And at Ebury-street he was not only within easy reach of the Imasons, in -treet, but equally well in touch wit., the Sel£prds. in Eccleston Square, and the Raymores, in Buckingham Gate. A third-class on the Underground Railway from Victoria carried him to Liverpool-street, whence be proceeded to the dyeing works near Romford, in Essex. For the dyeing project was taking shape. Jeremy had been down to Romford several times to look rourd and sec what the processes were like. He had digested the article on dyeing in the "Encylopaedia Britannica" and had possessed himself id the "Dictionary of Dyeing" and the ♦•Manual of Dyeing." His talk, both frt the Metropolitan Radical Club and at the houses he frequented was full bf the learning and the terminology of dyeing—things you dyed, and things you dyed the things with, and the things you did it in, and so forth. N He fascinated Eva Raymore by referring airily (and at this stage somewhat miscellaneously) to warm vats, and copperas, and lime vats, to insoluble basic compounds, to mordants and their applications, to single and double muriate of tin. You could go so far on the art cle without bothering about the "Dictionary" or the "Manual" at all; but then, Eva did not know that, and thought him vastly erudite. In fact, Jeremy was in love with dyeing, and rapidly reconsidered his estimate of the Beautiful —the Beautiful as such, even divorced from Utility—in the scheme of nature and life. On Alec Turner's re-, commendation he read Ruskin and William Morris, and thought still better of the Beautiful. Incidentally he became a Socialist of the extreme wing, but that is not so much to the present purpose. He soon made himself at home both at the Selfords' and at the Raymores', dropping in freely and casually, with an engaging confidence that everybody would be see him and pleased to allow him to.deposit his long, angular body in an armchair, and talk about dyeing or the Social Armageddon. He was, however, interested in other things tc^—not so much in pictures, but certainly in dogs. He had country lore jkbout dogs and their diseases and so ; toon Mrs SelFord's respect. He found j > Anna ""Self 6rd's kean mind an interestt study, and delighted to tease the £ty~ innocence of Eva Raymore. In .her .house.was there a young manson at the Selfords', and the Rayres' house was empty of theirs; and emy. in his shabby coat, with his breezy jollity and vigorous young selfassertion, came like a gust of fresh wind, and seemed to blow the dust out of the slace. Mrs Ravmore, above all, welcomed him. He went straight to her heart; she was for ever comparing and contrasting him with her own boy so far away—and only just the inevitable little to his disadvantage. Jeremy in his turn, though unconsciously,, loved the atmosphere cf the Raymores 5 house —the abiding sense of trouble, hard to bear, but bravely borne, and the closeness of heart, the intimacy of love which it had brought. Being at the Selfords' amused him; but being at the Raymores' did more than that. And what of his broken heart? Anna Selford had heard the story and asked him once in her mocking way. "You seem so very cheerful, Mr Chiddingfold!" said she. Jeremv explained with dignity. His heart was not broken; it had merely been wounded. Not only did he consider it. his." and any man's, duty to be cheerful, but as a fact he found no difficulty in being cheerful, occupied as he vas with the work of life, and sustained by a firm purpose and an unshaken resolve. • M "Only I don't care to talk about it, he added, by which he meant really that ■he did not care to talk about it to persons of a satirical turn. Mrs Raymore could set him to talk about it very freely, while to Eva lie would sometimes ' (usually for short times) he so moody and melancholy as to excite an interest of a distinctly sentimental nature. It is to be feared that, like most lovers, Jeremy was not above a bit of posing now and then. He was having very full and happy life, and, without noticing the fact, began gradually to be more patient about the riches and the fame. . None the less things- were m tram. SelfordVs working partners were disposed to be complaisant about Jeremy and the dyeing works; they were willing to oblige Selford, and found themselves favourably impressed by the young man himself. "But business is business. They could give hhn a pittance for ever, no doubt. If he wanted that very different thing—an opening—other considerations came to the front. Good open- • ings are not lightly given away. In fine, Jeremy could come and try his hand at a nominal salary- f* » c proved his aptitude they would be willing to have him for a junior partner; but in that case he must put five thousand pounds into the business. The sum was not a large one to ask, they said; and with all their good opinion of "Jeremv, and all their desire to oblige Selford, they could not in justice to ; themselves, their wives, and their families, put the figure lower. It was rather a shock to Jeremy., this first practical illustration of the pervading truth that in order to get money you must generally have some first." He might give all he had in the world and not realise five thousand pound-. He went to tea at the Kaymores' that evening with his spirits dashed. He had consulted Alec lurner, but that young man had only whistled, implying thereby that Jeremy might whistle for the money too. the journalistic temperament was not, Jeremy felt, naturally sympathetic; so he laid the question before Mrs Ray- . more. .. To her it was the opening of Jhe

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sluice-gates. She was full of maternal love, dammed up by distance and absence. She was tender and affectionate towards Eva, but her love for her daughter was pale and weak beside her feeing for her only son; and now a porion of the flow meant for far-off CharI icy was diverted to Jeremy. She loved i and could have wept over his brave simplicity, his sincere question as to how he could speedily make five thousand pounds. He was not a fool; he knew he could not break the bank at Monte Carlo, -or write a play or a novel,' or get the desired sum thereby if he did; but he had the great folly which clings to men older than ne was —the belief that blind, impartial fortune may show special divine favour. Kate Raymond smiled and sighed. If fortune were so easy to woo al that, Charley would not be a Buenos Ayres, nor would the great sorrow have shadowed their home. "Have you no friends who would guarantee it—who would advance it? You could pay interest and pay off the capital gradually," she suggested. That was not at all Jeremy's idea. "No, I don't want to do that. I don't want to be indebted to anybody." "But it's a pity to let the chance slip from a feeling of that sort," she urged. "Besides there's nobody in our family who ever had such a lot of money to spare." said Jeremy, descending to the practical. He sighed, too, and acknowledged the first check to his ardent hopes, the first disillusionment, in the words: "I must wait." When a manJ says that he must wait, he has begun to know something of the world- The lesson that often he must wait in vain remains behind. "But I shall find out some way," he went on (the second lesson still unlearnt). "Don't tell anybody about it, please. I've got a fortnight to give my answer in. They'll keep it open for mc till then." Eva came in, with her large, learning eyes, and her early charming girl's wonder at the strength and cleverness of the young man she liked. In a very few minutes Jeremy was confident and gay, telling her how he had the prospect of a partnership in quite a little while. Oh, yes, a junior partnership, of course, and a minor share. But it ought to be worth four or five hundred a year, anyhow— yes, to start with. And what it might come to—in vigorous hands, with new blood, new intellect, new energy—well, nobody could tell. Mr Thrale's casks and vats were not really—as a potentiality of growing rich beyond the dreams of avarice—comparable to Jeremy's vats and mordants and muriates. Eva was wonderfully impressed, and exclaimed, in childish banter: "I hope you'll know us still, after you're as rich as that?" Jeremy liked that. It was just the sort of feeling which his wealth was destined to raise in Dora Hutting. Meanwhile. ;pending,,the absence and obduracy of Dbi^4&-v?d&ifo^^npleas&n£cto usee-it. reflected in Eva's wondering eyes. Mrs: Rayrnore : .listened -and- looked; on -witb. a to lose no time-in breaking the injunction laid on her, and in telling Grantley Imason that for a matter of five thousand pounds the happiness of a.life—of a life or two—was to be had. The figure was often cheaper than that, of course; less than that often meant joy or woe—far less. Witness Chariey in Buenos Ayres, over youthful folly and a trifle of a hundred and fifty! But Grantley was rich —and she did not know that he had recently lent John Fanshaw fifteen thousand pounds. In requital for services rendered at the Metropolitan Radical, Jeremy had introduced his friend, Alec Turner, to the Selfords. Alec had come up to town from j the staff of a provincial journal, and found very few houses open to him in London, so that he was grateful. He had a native, although untrained, liking for art, and could talk about pictures to Selford, while Jeremy talked about dogs to Mrs Selford; and both the young men sparred with Anna, whose shrewd hits kept them well on their defence. Alec went about his avocations in a red tie, a turned-down collar, and lively mustardcoioured clothes. A dress suit he assumed reluctantly when he was sent to report the speeches of prosperous Philistine persons at public, dinners. He hated prosperous Philistine persons, especially if their prosperity (and conser quent Philistinity) came from art or letters, and delighted in composing paragraphs which should give them a little dig. He was, however, not really illnatured, and would not have hurt the prosperous persons seriously, even if he could have; .he was anxious to declare that neither he nor anybody else could, in fact, hurt them, seriously, owing to the stupidity of the public—which was incalculable. He was a decided assistance to Jeremy in enlivening the Selford household and in keeping Anna's wits busy and bright. 'T suppose nothing_would induce you to be successful?" she said to him. with malicious simplicity. "Success for mc means something quite different," Alec explained. "It lies in influencing the trend of public opinion." "But the public's hopelessly stupid! It seems to mc rather foolish to spend your time trying to influence hopelessly stupid people." Jeremy chuckled. He did not see how Alec was going to get_out of that. "I spoke of the bulk. There is a small intelligent minority on whom one can rely." "If you can rely on them already, why do they want influencing?" objected Anna. "On whom one can rely for a hearing and for intelligent appreciation, Miss Selford." "Then the fewer people who care what you say, the more successful you really are?" "That's hardly the way I should put "No, I don't suppose you would," interrupted Anna. "But it comes to that, doesn't it, Jeremy." "Of course it does," agreed Jeremy. "The fact is, writing about things is all rot. Go and do something—something practical." Dyeing was doing something practical. r'Oh, yes, go into business, of course, | arid get rich by cheating! Trading's only another name for cheating." "Well, you're right there for once," said Anna. $ "Right?" cried Jeremy fiercely. "Well, then, why isn't it. cheating when he" (he pointed scornfully at Alec) "charges a

ha'penny for his beastly opinion about something?"

"Oh, it's not for mc so say! You must ask Mr Turner that."

In fact, the discussions were of a most spirited order, since everybody was always quite wrong, and each in turn could be rapidly and ignominiously refuted, the other two uniting in a warm but transient alliance to that end.

This young and breezy society was good for Selford and for his wife, too. It gave them something to think about, and did not leave each so much time to consider the unreasonableness of the other. Tiffs became less frequent, the false sentimentalism of their reconciliations was less in demand; and as they watched Anna's deftness and brightness, they (began to" ask whether they had been as proud of her as they ought to be. * , "She's got brains, that girl of ours," said Selford, nodding his bead complacently. "And a taking manner, don't you think, Dick?" "Those boys find her attractive, or it looks like it, anyhow!" "Of course, she's-not exactly,pretty, but I do think she's rather distinguished somehow." "Your daughter would be sure to be that, my dear Janet," he remarked gal : lantly. • "No, I really think she'e more like you," insisted Janet amiably. "I must make an effort" (Mrs Selford was fond of that phrase) "and take her out into Society more. I don't think we're quite giving her her chance." "Ah, you've ' begun to think of match-making!" he cried in playful reproof. But it pleased him highly to think that he had, after all, an attractive daughter. He took much more notice of her than he had been used to take, and Mrs Selford eyed her with critical affection. Decidedly, the increase of human interest, as opposed to artistic and canine, was a good influence in the Selford household. Anna soon saw how her position bad improved. She was not demonstrative about it, but ehe appreciated it. She was also v sharp enough to use it. The next time an invitation to a party came she refused to go unless she might have a frock of her own choosing. "I won't go if I'm to look a guy!" she said. There was a battle over that, a battle between her and Mrs Selford, and a tiff between fathef and mother to boot. For Selford was with Anna now. They won the day, and Anna, with a cheque in her pocket, went off to consult Christine Fanshaw, nursing in her heart that joy which only the prospect of being dressed really just as you'd like to be dressed seems able to excite. "Merely a malicious desire to cut out the other girls," commented Alec lofti"I really don't think you ought to talk about dress," retorted Anna, eyeing the mustard suit. But when Anna appeared in the frock which Christine had- sedulously and lovingly planned, she carried all before her. She was most undoubtedly distinguished. "Well, I suppose you've come to an age when that charming simplicity which used to suit you so well must give way to something more stylish," even Mrs Selford admitted, capitulating and marching out—but with the honours of war. Grantley Imason wa3 rich; yet ; £-15,000: is a solid sum, of money. - pty put that sum at John" Fa'nshaw's dis^- 1 posal had iiot caused hhn serious incbTivenlenee, but it had entailed, a little contriving." To lay "lout another* live thousand in Jeremy's service would involve more contriving, and the return of the money rested, of necessity, in a distant and contingent future. Nevertheless, when Kate Raymore disregarded the injunction laid on her, and suggested that the happiness of a life should be secured, he found the proposition attractive. He was a man lavish of money and appreciative of all the various pleasures of giving it away—both those of a more and those of a less self-regarding order. He enjoyed both the delight of the recipient and the sense of his own generosity and his own power. He would like Jeremy to be indebted to him for the happiness of his life —of course, that was an exaggerated way of putting it, but it was a telling exaggeration. He also liked Jeremy very much for his own sake. And it would be altogether a handsome thing to do—under present circumstances a peculiarly handsome thingFor Sibylla had left him and gone down to Milldean, accompanied by the boy, without a word of friendship or a hint of reconciliation; and Jeremy's welfare was very dear to his sisterr To help Jeremy, and thereby prepare" for her the pleasure of 'seeing Jeremy prosper, to do this secretly, to have it as a private merit and a hidden claim on her, was an idea which appealed strongly to Grantley. In his imaginings she was to discover what he had done in the future, but not till after their reconciliation. Would it not have an effect then ?.. One effect it was to have was, in plain words,"to make Sibylla feel ashamed; but Grantley did not put it so simply or so nakedly as that—that would have been to recognise the action as almost pure revenge. He blinked that side of it, and gave prominence to the other sides. But that side was there among the rest, and he would suffer wrong, at her hands with the more endurance the greater were obligations she was under to him. His love for her and his quarrel with her joined hands to urge him. Commanding Kate Raymore to respect his desire for secrecy, although she had disregarded Jeremy's, he undertook to consider the matter. But his mind was really" made up: and since the thing was to be done, it should be done liberally and splendidly. He had lent his money to Fanshaw, as Caylesham had surmised, with a very satisfactory prospect of repayment; to Jeremy he was ready to lend it on no security, careless about repayment because beloved Sibylla and because he had so grievous a quarrel against her. It was all a part of his broad and consistent plan of conquering her by his unchanging patience, unchanging love, unchanging persistence/in being, just what he had always been to her from the beginning, however sore a trial her unreasonableness and her vagaries might put him to. This generosity to Jeremy would be a fine example of his chosen attitude, a fine move in the strategy on which he had staked the ultimate success of his campaign against Sibylla. - "If I decide to .do it, I'll tell Sibylla myself, at my own'time, and in my own way—remember that," he said to Kate Raymore. She had an idea that things had not been going quite smoothly, and nodded in a wise fashion. She picturing a pretty scene of sentiment wheu Grantlej' confessed his generosity. Of the real state of his mind she had no idea, but her own conception of the case was enough to ensure her silence. (To be continued in Saturday's Supplement).