"WHICH IS HEIRESS?"

Auckland Star, Volume XLIII, Issue 215, 7 September 1912, Page 20

"WHICH IS HEIRESS?"

(All Rights Reserved.)

BY RITA RICHMOND. Author of "The Dead Man's Hand," " Handsome Ned's Daughter," " Beggar by Choice," CHATTER XXIX; T!IE LAST OF THE MILLIONS.

Tn the liig drawing-room of the gloomy l.i mlnn house Vera Hobson once more pits dreamily gazing into the lire. The two girls have returned from Maxtoun's n d.iv befurc Geoffrey's departure. Vera is sitting alone in the dusk of the. gloaming, for Ailci-n and Dick are out together. There is a d<x-p sadness in the beautiful eves now gazing into the red heart of the ■fire, there is a dreary sort of envy in Vent's heart as she thinks of the two radiant faces which left her two hours ago. They have each other, they want none of her. As for her, why, she lias her millions to comfort her and keep her company.

Poor comfort they seem to be, however, to judge by Verb's face as she sits in that big empty room alone, and as she thinks of her millions the only effect they seem to have upon her is to cause the slow tears to drop upon Iwr cheeks. She has put up a hasty hand to dash them away, when a hurried, noisy opening of the door makes her start from her melancholy reverie.

Somebody has entered quickly. A tall figure comes striding up the long duskfillod room, tripping over stools, dashing down a small table in his. liasty passage as he came. A figure that causes Vera's heart to leap to her throat, and makes her tremble all over. Then the next instant Geoff Wargrave is upon her. has clasped her two hands in a painful grip, and stands gazing down at her. his handBunte face alight with strange excitement •—his heart is in his eves.

"What is it?" stammered Vera. "What has happened?" She had thought never to have looked upon his face again, and the rush of joy which overwhelms her at sight of it is half- • iearfuL "Nothing! I mean everything i n the world. 1 think, has happened, dearest," exclaims Geotf in a voice deep with emotion. " Vera, what would you say, if I told yon that you weren't the heiress a-ffciT all? What would you say if I told you that no horrid barrier of millions lie between you and iiie—that you were the poor 'other girl' after all—"the girl I may woo without shame" But there is no need of Geoffrey asking fiirthfr what Vera would say to it. The- radiant face she lifts to his, the quick, inarticulate breathless cry of joy she gives, tells him surely enough what .Vera says to it!

"And now you must tell mc how you came to make that strange mistake," she says a little later, when the first glad rush of emotion had somewhat sobered down.

" Why," replied Geoff, puzzedly, " I'm not quite clear about that yet, dearest. You see, the girl my father pointed to in the photo, wore a peculiar ring heart-shaped opaL When I found 1 had forgotten the points of difference between you I relied upon that ring for your identity, and, of course, when I saw yea •wearing the ring " " The ring," cris£ "Vera, astonishedly, looking up at him much as Sir John had done. " Why, how could you tell by that when Aileen and I both have rings like that? father always gave us the same things. In that photo, you saw Aileen was wearing hers, 1 .suppose, and for some reason or other I hadn't mine. While we were at Helm House Aileen had broken hers and =snt it to the jeweller to repair, that's why she wasn't wearing hers. Oh, you foolish boy," she added, with merry mockery, " to judge a woman by her trinkets, which she wears one day, and leaves off the next, instead of by her eyes, which she always wears." They wrangled over, the question thus for a little while, gaily and amusedly, then suddenly a slight gloom overspread Geoff's gaiety. ■ *■ Poor old Dick,"-he says, with a sight "this will be a terrible blow to him. That engagement can't go on, he will in honour feel bound to break off with Aileen." A troubled silence falls between them for a little,-then Vera" glances timidly up into Geoffs thoughtful face. "Geoff £" she says, hesitatingly, in a "low voice, "•worild it, do you think, be dreadfully Geceitfnl.if. we—-we didn't tell them the Irsth about the millions Geoff stares down at her for a moment, then a burst of deEghted laughter •breaks from his lips. "Vera, my dear," he cried, "your •woman's wit has solved •the problem. It's certainly none of our : . business to blight their happiness." "And, ycwi see," continued Vera eagerly, ""they're planning such delightful economies of saving pennies and looking for small houses; it would be a Bhame to spoil & all with those horrid amnions, wouldn't it?" "Simple cruelty!'* decides Geoff, firmly. •"Wo could not blast such hopes as those, I«t's keep the millions dark, dearest." But yet a little later, as Geoff reluctantly rises to leave her, a question ■which still lies uneasy upon his mind works itself to the surface as they stand together -with dreamy eyes fixed upon the fire. . . .T ' '"""Vera, arc you quite certain that there is no regret in your , heart for the loss of that great wealth?" says Geoffrey, thoughtfully. "Are you certain, deal, that you are quite happy? It must bo rather nice, to, you know to be a millionairess." Vera lifts her eyes to his, and the firelight light up the soft curves of her radiant young face, and reveals the smile that slowly breaks like a wave of joy across its beauty. ■"I daresay it would,' she adds, reflectively, "but then, Geoff, under the circumstances, the special circumstances" ■ —she adds, with a demure glance—"how very much nicer to be the other girl!" Once - again the. sunshine of another, spring floods the big dining-room of the deceased millionaire's big town house. Tint this time 'tis no sad and sombre funeral party which has gathered within these walls: 1 he guests are gaily dressed tin general nir of the party is one of hilarity and mirthful excitement. Of (nurse it is a wedding party, and a (limbic wedding at that; nevertheless it i- met now for pretty much the same reason ms «>nre before in this same room —namely, to hear the rending of the completed "ill of George Hobson. The *>lvasant -fa<-"d young man is there, looking ::~ pleasant, or perhaps more so, than at the last party. The poorest, youngest nephew-at-law of Mr Hiihwn is also there, .">nd Sir James Maxtoun has attached himself to him, .and, h:iving evidently- forgotten all about 'the present occasion, is discussing politics with him, and by sheer compelling force of the flittering glass, with which he transfixes the young man, is evidently shifting the nephew-in-la-w*s bias in politics "while you wait." The Wargravesare all there. lady Earltoun is there, rustling in costly

silks, but with such a very evident un-ha-ppincss of manner in her bearing towards the beautiful twins —being in fact sorely undecided which she ought to rsake herself most agreeable to in view of the coming disclosure of identity— that it was almost ludicrous. Lady Marjorie is there, looking more like a china shepherdess than ever she could look minus a crook and a stand; while at the table in the centre of the room, just as once before, site the elderly impassive lawyer sorting out his papers. He has an orchid in his button-hole, but this ie the only discernible change in liis appearance.

Afi the guests settle themselves about tlie room, and the chatter and laughter with which they have entered dies away in the expectation with which all survey t)i£ lawyer and his papers, Mr tlnwly and impressively clears his throat, and, lifting a large blue sealed envelope, slips it open deliberately and carefully and draws out its contents. Then he glances half involuntarily at two of the company present— i.he two most nearly concerned yet perhaps the least interested and excited of all the party in this matter. In their shimmering bridal robes—for the marriage has just taken place, the two brides look like two fair twin lilies as they seat themselves beside Lady Marjorie and proceed to regar<L Mr Erskine with a gently complacent air.

"Before reading the codicil of Mr Hobson's will," goes on the lawyer, slowly removing his gaze from the two girls and looking more at Sir Jim, "X have a somewhat strange question to put—a question which may make considerable difference in regard to the codicil, and which 1 was authorised by my late client to put to you all ere reading it." The lawyer pauses, and shakes out his paper with what might have been di'emed a nervous movement in any other than Erskine, of Erskine and Sivewright, while the guests stare still more interestedly and excitedly than ever at him.

■Sir Jim puts up his glass and glares sternly at the lawyer. He has always hail a suspicion that George Hobson was slightly crazy when ho made the will. Is his suspicion going to be verified. "The question is such—ahem—such a strange one that I find it difficult to word it," coatiuued the lawyer. "But since it is incumbent on mc to put it, here it is. Cfcm any here present testify to the fact that the marriages which have taken place to-day under this roof, have been entirely—ahem—a union of hciirts without any mercenary considerations attactiing to them?" For a Httle there is an astounded pause of dead silence. The question is so strange, so totally unexpected, that H -is scarcely grasped at first. The next moment, however, Geoffrey Wargrave, his handsome face flushed, springs impulsively to his feet.

'" I do not know, sir," he says, quietly, " whether my word will have weight, but I may say that I can scarcely be accused of mercenery motives in my marriage, seeing that I am quite aware that my wife is not the heiress." He looks proudly, composedly round the astonished circle of faces. Even the impassive Erskine shows surprise at last. But now, almost ere the sound of Geoffrey's words have died away, somebody else springs to his feet, and Geoff feels hurriedly, rudely, roughly grasped by the shoulder. Turning, he finds himself face to face with Dick Burton, who glares at him excitedly.

" It's a ," exclaims the young man, furiously. He has obviously intended the word lie to follow. Yes, though this is a polite bridal party, under the frightful excitement "which Dick is labouring, he barely stops ere this rude word escapes him. " Excuse mo, my dear Geoff," he goes on, but you are —ha! ha!" Here Dick breaks into a forced, most unmirthful laugh. " You are labouring under a most ridiculous delusion. My wife is certainly not Then the two bridegrooms stand glaring at each other, in the middle of the room, much as though the performance was a prize fight.

The situation is certainly awkward. Mr Erskine breaks the pause at last. " Do I understand you to say that you believe your wife to Be the adopted daughter of George Hobson?" he asks, looking at Geoffrey firmly. " She certainly is," replied Gyeoff firmly. "She certainly is not," said Dick firmly, glancing belligerently at the lawyer. Geoff bites his lips to hide a smile, and glances at Vera. He is sorry for Dick, and he feels guilty too. " Sit down, my dear fellow," he says soothingly, laying a hand on Dick's shoulder. "We are only making ourselves ridiculous to our friends."

Then Sir Jim, who has been grinning in the ecstasy of amusement at the scene, rises to his feet.

" I think," he says blandly, " that if —er —any assurances are required as to your question, Mr Erskine, you may come to mc. I have pretty good proofs of the disinterestedness of both these marches, having been witness of the whole affair almost since the beginning. These proofs I should prefer to give you in private," adds Sir Jim gravely, but with such significance that a ripple of smiles runs round the room.

The lawyer smiles also. " Then," he says suavely, "I think I will undertake to find that this question is answered. Will you therefore allow mc to read the codicil? it ie not a long document, however, but it is so burdened with formalities which make it longer than necessary to repeat. The gist of this strange document, however, may be told in a few words. If it can be proved in any reliable manner than the twp girls, Aileen Hobson and her adopted sister, Vera Ainslie, have been married not for their wealth but for themselves alone, the entire money and estate of the late George Hobson is tb be equally divided between them." As he finishes Mr Erskine lifts his eyes with a smile from his paper. "As the conditions of this codicil seem to have been fulfilled, may I now congratulate two bridegrooms on now possessing not only, I dare say, the two most beautiful ladies in London, but two of the wealthiest •'." There is a sudden burst of delighted laughter from all assembled guests, for the faces of the two bridegrooms are a study. " Do you mean to tell mc," demands Dick, and OofT fiercely in a breath striding towards the table, " that my wife must accept half of these wretched millions?" "■' Unless you are both prepared to declare you married your wives for their money." replied Mr Erskine suavely, apa-in looking at the two young men with a twinkle in his eye. They glare back at him dumbfounded. Tbpy are certainly no match for the man of law, and after a moment they retire baffled. " And Dick and I had just arranged such a dear little home." laments Aileen, almost tearfully, to Lady Marjorie. "Not a single luxury, almost, and such sweet little cheap chairs and tables in it; and now these horrid millions have ruined our dear little home."

Sir Jim crosses over to the two girls, and meets Geoff and Dick retiring from the table with frowning faces. "Allow mc to congratulate you, my dear children," he says, paternally laying a hand on both young men's shoulders, after pocketing his handkerchief with -which he had been wiping away the tears of laughter. " I'm sure I don't know when I've enjoyed an entertainment more," he adds cheerfully, "and I am astonished at your lack of humour, my dear Aileen and Vera. Do you mean to say you don't see that the fact that these two poor boys being tricked into becoming millionaires against their wills isnt a delightful bit of humour?"

Vera and Aileen, being women, eye him doubtfully, but Geoff and Dick, meeting the glance of Sir Jim's eyeglass .succumb, and burst into an irrepressible roar of laughter, in which the rest of the company join heartily. "Ah!" says Sir Jim, complacently, as he holds out his arm to Vera to conduct her from the room (Mr Erskinc having risen with an air of dismissing the business). " I thought the humour of it had only to be pointed out to you, and though millions is usually too serious a matter to joke about, I really do consider the matter of these particular millions quite a delightful piece of humour. Don't you, my friends?" (The End.)