AN UNEXPECTED WIFE.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 213, 8 September 1923, Page 26

AN UNEXPECTED WIFE.

, : (By J. DE V. NAUNTON.) \ ''My dear chap, I'm broke—absolutely j broke," said Geoffrey Hanningham. "Baccarat or roulette t" asked his ; iriend. ! "No, I'm not such a fool. It's those rubber shares gone smash. I put every- ' thing I had into that concern months i ago. and here I am without a penny!" I "Good heavens!" exclaimed Jim Barton. "What a mess! What are you going to do!" •'Don't know. Isn't the Argentine the ! right place for poverty-stricken mortals i like myself?" i Geoffrey Hanningham and his friend ; were sitting in the apparently empty lounge of a small but exclusive hotel ; in Paris. Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of a waiter with the evening post. : "Pour Monsieur Hanningham, deux lettres. s'il vous plait." Geoffrey read the first, made a grimace, and consigned it to the waste paper beeket. Then he tore open the second. After reading it through in silence he ! handed it to his friend. "That's just like old Slowcombe," , lie | said. "I think he regards mc as his grandson. Read it." j Barton rend the followtsr:— ! "Lincoln's Inn Fields May 2nd. "Dear Sir.—We are iiirSructcd by our client, Lndv Sophia :-Lanninpham. to remind you that the wwMinpr present of £20,000 promised to you on condition that you are married by June 15th of this year—that being the thirtieth anniveraury of your birthday—is still waiting to be claimed. "Wo trust you will shortly take this I opportunity, which will benefit you to a largo extent and give great satisfaction to Lady Sophia Hanningham, whose earnest desire it is that you should—to use her own words —'marry ; and settle down.' ; "We learn with regret that Lady Sophia Banrihigham has been taken seriously ill, and understand she de- i sires to see you at once. "We are, your obedient servants, j "Slowcombe and Matthews." i From the number of addresses on the envelope it waa apparent that the letter had been delayed some weeks. Barton refilled his glass. "Twenty thousand pounds is not to be despised. You'll have to get a move on and get married." "What kind of person do you think I can marry in five days?" gasped Geoffrey. "My dear chap, it is your only chance. Think of the twenty thousand " "I am thinking of the twenty thousand pounds," interrupted Geoffrey. "My aunt is as firm as a rock when she gets an idea into her head, and if I am a day late, all will be over and I shall be travelling steerage to South America. She will be chuckling to herself and paying, That will teach the young man to keep his promises,' although I can't remember making any such promise." "She probably made it up and told Slowcombe," said Barton. The next hour was spent in arguing the matter. Geoffrey decided he could not dress Jim Barton as his wife, nor did he feel inclined to pass off a maid from the hotel as Mrs. Geoffrey Hanningham. The only girl he considered eligible was Phyllis Daventry a cousin two or three times removed. He had met ber once, but she lived in America. A. Jong pause followed. Then, "1 have it!" exclaimed Barton. "You are married—were married last week to— er—Suzanne—the daughter of a deceased French nobleman. Unfortunately, she is not able to accompany you to England as—er —her mother has been taken ill. You will receive, daily, charming billets-doux written in a fair round hand—from mc!" Geoffrey laughed. "Sounds all right," he said, "but I cant continue the deception for ever." "No, quite bo. You must leave L*dy Sophia as soon as you can, and then— well, you'll have to marry someone." The two left the hotel to mase arrangements for Geoffrey's journey to England the following day. Ah «wn as tbey had departed a man emerged from an alcove in the lounge. Then he turned and went into the street. Lady Sophia Hanningham sat up in bed and darted quick glances at her nephew. " "And yon know the conditions T" Geoffrey bad been waiting for this. "Yep, I heard from your solicitors. Curiously enough, I waa married last week, just a day or two before I got the letter which had been forwarded to mc from my club." "Then why didn't you bring your wife with you! And who is she?" retorted Lady Sophia. "I was about to explain," said Geoffrey. "Er—my wife was unable to come with mc as her mother is ill. She is the daughter of the late Viscount D'Armand. - Probably you have heard of him, Suzanne is perfectly charming and you would fall in love with her at once. She is the most beautiful and graceful girl in the world, and, of course, what is more important, she is both refined and cultured." "Well, if she is all you cay she is," said Lady Sophia, "you are very lucky. I Jook forward with pleasure to meeting her." The next day Lady Sophia announced her intention of coming downstairs, and when he came in after an examination of the gardens in the afternoon, Geoffrey found her in an armchair by the library fire. "A telegram hae just come for you, Geoffrey," she said, pointing to a sarver on the table. Geoffrey picked up the buff envelope. "The charming billets-doux begin," he murmured to himself as he opened it and read:—-"Mother better. Arriving Marlestone 4 p.m. Wednesday. Love.— Suzanne." Geoffrey stared at the form in amazement. "Heavens! What fool'e trick of Barton's is this?" he said under his breath. "What the " The door opened and a footman entered. "Mrs. Geoffrey Hanningham," he announced. A radiant vision entered, hesitated for a second, and then, rushing at Geoffrey. embraced him ardently. "Oh, cheri. cheri! How unhappy I have been ; without you. You are glad to see mc, j mv liushnnd. Yes?" "Kr—yee, of course," gasped Geoffrey. "Isfow" then, young man." said Lady Sophia, "perhaps I might be introduced to your wife." Fortunately, at this moment, tea was brought in, and Geoffrey had a moment in which to think. If he confessed he was not married all would be lost. ; Suzanne was chatting gaily to the eld l»dy, and Geoffrey had time to look closely at his wife for the first time. A |

dazzling complexion set off her .dark eyes and hair. She had a perfect figure and was dressed exquisitely. "And when ze doctor eaid that my mother was better," she was saying, "I think to myself: 'Ah, now I go to my dear Geoffwey.' I send a telegram from London, but I come as quick as zc telegram itself and give all a big surprise." "Yes, it was indeed a. surprise!" remarked Geoffrey, dryly. After tea Lady Sophia rang for her maid to take her to her room for her usual rest before dinner. As soon as the door had closed upon his aunt, Geoffrey strode over to where the girl was sitting on the arm of a chair. ! "For Heaven's sake, tell mc what you are playing at? Are you mad, or am I?" I "I do not understand you. What do you mean? Perhaps you are ze mad one —yes, it must be so. My mother, she is better and I come to you. You look at mc ami talk so cross. You love mc still? Just a little bit, yes?" » i She gazed at him so sadly and so qucstioningly that, as he looked down at her, Geoffrey felt bewitched. He made a movement towards her and caught her arm. i "Now, tell mc what you mean " i The girl gave a sudden twist and was I free. She escaped quickly to the door. 1 "I must po to my chamber," she said, ,laughing. "We. shall meet at dinner.", j She blew a kiss from the tips of her finpers and was gone, i Geoffrey cursed himself for WJug her go: he migrht not have another chance of getting an explanation from her for somo time. Dinner that night was quite a cheerful meal, though for Geoffrey a somewhat silent one. Suzanne, lookinp more beautiful than ever, in a dress of misty blue, chattered incessantly, while Geoffrey k'a/.ed at her spellbound. How wonderful sOie wrf! He, certainly had not overestimated her to his aunt, who was in excellent spirits and seemed bent on teasing him. i After dinner their hostess retired to ■ her (boudoir to write sonic letters. Suzanne also disappeared, and Geoffrey was left to stroll on the terrace by himself. 1 Soon, however, he grew tired of his ! own company, and went in search of j Suzanne. He found her in the drawingiroom. She appeared so engrossed in her book that she did not hear him enter I through the French windows. As he approached she started, and a paper dropped from hor book. Geoffrey bent down and picked it up, and as he did so Suzanne sprang forward and said, "Give mc that letter, please." Geoffrey, surprised at her haste, was about to return it when he saw his aunt's name on the heading. "Is it very important? You know it is ft husband's privilege to Toad his wife's letters," he said, tauntingly. "Please give mc that letter at once," said the girl, in a trembling voice. "No; I am afraid I must exercise my right, seeing that it is addressed to my aunt, whom you have known only a few hours." He pulled out the letter and proceeded to read:— To Lady Sophia Hanningham. Dear Madam, —I have received by chance knowledge of the utmost importance concerning your nephew, Mr. Geoffrey Hanningham- He intends, I understand, to impose himself upon you as a married man. He will tell you of his marriage a week ago to a French nobleman's daughter named Suzanne, who is supposed to be nursing her mother, and so unable to accompany him to England on a visit to you. Aβ my only object is that you should know these facts and be prepared, I prefer to remain anonymous.—Paris. Geoffrey folded the letter. "I presume Lady Sophia handed you this letter and that you have been acting up to it. To whom have I the pleasure of speaking?" "I am your second cousin, Phyllis. I have until the day after to-morrow." she made a mock curtsy and smiled her mysterious, bewitching smile. "The game is up, and really it's my fault. You have lost your wedding present, and your wife also. While I' was staying with aunt" this anonymous" letter came, and we decided to punish you for* your mercenary ways. It was great fun, and my French was rather good, wasn't it?" "Yes, you certainly had mc." Geoffrey hesitated, and then continued, hurriedly, "But, you see, I don't want to lose my wife. I want her very much. I don't care about the money, although I have until th day after to-morrow." A long pause followed, broken only by Geoffrey as lie "beat a cigarette upon his case. Then Phyllis said, quietly, "I'm afraid you have not much time in which to marry in any case." "Yes, I have. I—l want you—Suzanne. There is an early train to town in the morning. Will you catch it with mc?" Phyllis's answer was inaudible against GcofTrer-'s lips, but quite intelligible. During the afternoon of the next day Lady Sophia received a telegram:— Married at eleven this mornirig.— Suzanne and Geoffrey. The old invalid seemed very young and ridiculously happy as she welcomed the bride and bridegroom that evening.