HEARTS IN PAWN.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 103, 4 May 1925, Page 14

HEARTS IN PAWN.

BY FLORENCE STACFOOLE.

Author of ''The King's Diamond," "Love Ventures In," etc.

I CHAPTER XXI. ; "I'm afraid the room i-s very—very— shabby. Do you think you will be able to endure it ?" i Dorcas Cuthbertson's voire was doleful, and she looked deprccatingly at the gir.l beside her- at the white serge coat and skirt which she wore, and which for all their simplicity had so unmistakably a Bond Street cut -at her smart hat--at the exquisite lace hlouse that showed under her silk-lined coat--at her long white suede gloves clasped by delicately wrought golden bangles. Andrew on this warm .lune day, was arrayed'in bridal white Inn her dejected face wore no bridal joy. , She looked round the big bare room which poor Dorcas am! her mother had done their lest to furnish np and emhrllish for the paying gne-i who had dropped into the rectory with kiicli startling suddenness after'the inception of the idea of taking one had occurred to them. Its expanse of boarded floor was white wiih mi.,-h scrubbing, and was sparsely fiirni-heil with well-worn inland mats. Its few article- of ~7d mahogany furniture were bright from the expenditure of much "elbow grease." and the curtains of the white latticed windows and old four-post bedstead would not have been greatly shamed by proximity with a snow drift, but the room lacked all the things that Dorcas felt a mil like Audrey Leslie must be accustomed to. There ivum no wardrobe - a shelf with hooks anil a curtain before 't did the duty for one. There was no mirrors, except one whose plate was of doubtful value for the authentic reproduction of the face that looked into it. The tirepiaee was huge, old fashioned, and with a great open chimney. But none of these things were noted by Audrey. She looked round the-room because it was required of her as its tenant for the time being to look at it. Mi at did it matter to her what the room contained? If it had been hung with the most gorgeous hangings the East could supply they could not have ease.l the pain that was gnawing at her heart. The costliest furniture could not alter the facts that she was an exile, that Cyril hail failed her. ami that the man who had declared with such evident sincerity that the utmost extent of his ! service was at her disposal hail not troubled even to write one line to her. Her heart felt like lead in her breast. She had not taken in what her companion said. For the moment she was blinded ami deafened by the heart pain ; that was oppressing her. i Dorcas was oppressed, too. with the certainly that ihe guest's silence meant disapproval of her surroundings. "Even ! tlie flowers are common, old-fashioned j things." thought the rector's daughter dispairinglv, as she glanced at the vases , and bowls which she had filled witli j tributes from the straggling old rectory | garden. Crimson rambler.'roses, great purple and yellow pansics, mignonette. I garaniums. flaming poppies, sprays of I sweet briar. i Dorcas had rifled the other rooms for things that could be turned into flower holders and had filled them with tlie brightest blossoms she could find, but seeing it all now as she imagined it

- i seen by Audrey's eyes, her spirits sank. "I—l'm afraid you won't be able to live in such a—a wretched looking room."' she said with a little break in her cheery vince. Audrey started. These words reached her comprehension. She looked at Dorcas, and saw what thoughts her] absence of mind had given rise to. She held out her hands anil took those of the other girl. "The room is charming!" she cried warmly. "I shall love to live in it! 1 am sorry for my rudeness and inattention, they made you sny that naughty thing about the pretty room. ; How could you call it by such a name! j Wretched. Why, it is" lovely!" Then. with sudden impulsiveness. I she added, ns her eyes rested on I Dorcas' plump, freckled face, lighted lup by biir. kind eyes and the smile that this praise of the room called into it: "And you are a dear: I si,all love tlie : ! room, and I shall love to live in the ; house with you!'' She was holding Dorcas' hands, and the bloom that of late had died out of her face was eominrr , back into it. when suddenly her clasp Blackened, and then Miss Ciithbertsoii's ; hands were dropped. j I "What is it?" said Dorcas apprehensively. She saw that Audrey's eyes, in turning from her to look admiringly round the room, had lighted upon a small table which stood before ihe open lattice window. The young hostess had : arranged it as a writing table, and, to j make up for some deficiencies ol j 'equipage. had added a few special I articles from her own possessions. j Amongst them was a square silver ; frame holding a photograph. It was on this that Audrey's eves ' were fixed. The photo was that of a handsome young man in splendid regi-1 mentals —the uniform of an oliieer in j the Grenadier Guards. His face was rtaiTc. c'.ean shaven, and resolute. Its clear-cut feature*, broad , brow, and firmly-set lips all spoke of strength of purpose and will power. His ryes seemed to look into hers question- : ingly. It was the face of the man who had 'called himself John Smith, and who was known professionally as Henry 1 Bhnkley. I Audrey was looking at the picture las if it had east a spell upon her. Over ■ her face a strange, quick play, as of ! j many mixed emotions, was passing I with the swiftness of the shadow of l | flying clouds across corn fields. The dejection in her face had given place to! I a vivid interest. Her eyes had in them ' |nn expression of which Dorcas thought ] she could read the purport. j "Do you know him?'' she asked. ! There was a constraint in Jier voice : j that had not been in it before. ! Miss Leslie started. Her gaze seemed to turn from the pictured face with difficulty, as if some compelling force, like the unseen power of gravitation.' drew her to it with an invisible sway. [ j "Who is lie?" she asked, her eyes ro- j i turning inquiringly to Dorcas", j through whose mind the thought was passing tbat she hardly looked like the same creature as the pale girl of a ! ; few moments before. "Who is be?" repeated Miss Cuthhertson. "You know him— surely T-" She did not add about the further thought that occurred to her. "the pio- ■ furc of an utter stranger would not make you look like this:" "Who is he?" reiterated Audrey, in- i sistently. as if she had not heard the repetition of her question and the re- : mark that followed it. "What is his name?"

"His name is James Darnlcy, but." continued Dorcas, after a moment's pause, "you knew that already—did you not?" "Xo. I diil not know it. Why does he wear that uniform?" "Recluse when the photograph was taken he had just got his company in the Grenadier Guards." "Is he in that regiment now?" There was a little breathlessness in Audrey's voice us she asked the question. "Xo. he lives in London now."' Dorcas' straight forward, honest eyes were fixed on the new guest's face. What could be the meaning of these questions? Audrey sal down in a little rocking chair that stood near the table. Iler eves had gone back to the picture as. absent-mindedly, she drew oIT her long while gloves. She still wore the big marouise ring of sapphires and diamonds - Cyril's rngnccment ring—and over it a t "keeper" of dull gold. Kven Donas' inexperienced eyes saw thai it was a rine of value, and al-o : suspected its significance. On her own third linger of tlv> left hand was also an engagement ring, but not one like Audrey's. It was plan cold, unadorned by any gem. on which in ra's.Ml characters was one word: , "Mizpah." | CHAVTKR XXU. ! ! Why Fate should he especially and i particularly kind to Lady Helle Hringly, j who had no regard al all for other j people's feelings or comforts, is one I of those mysteries which it is useless , to tackle. It is a way Kate often has. ■ for don't we see every day the conscientious, sell'-sacrilii-ing. scrupulous. people huffeted by untoward circumstances, and kicked by the jade who ], resides at the loom of Destiny, nml I the careless and se.lish led liy her j along the "Ilower-pranked path." with no difficulties or obstacles placvd in their way? Fate aided her ladyship on the ! occasion when she threw her aunt's j household into confusion for the futlici- j I ancc of her own ends, j A banana skin on an Amsterdam j 'quay, aided by the very natural desire of a Dutch doctor to add to his fees, [were the simple implements which Kate i 'used for the assistance of Lady Belle at this crisis. i To the headquarters of Dutch finance. I for private ends of his own. connected , 'with the "settling day" which was run- j jing on apace. Mr. Leopold Varlicy had I hied him on the day after his acceptance by the Karl of Downlmry's youngest, j 'sister. lie had meant it to be but a ! living visit. He was to return on the [day the announcement was to appear in " The .Morning lost " blazoning to the | world his engagement to enter by i marriage the family of a well-known member of the aristocracy. But the Lady of the Variegated Robe i and Seven-Starred Crown intervened, and laid the stockjobber by the heels. | Hastening along the quay near his hotel j on the night of liis arrival, he stepped ■ on a piece of rind peeled from a banana. and was Hung on the cobble-stones. The result was a torrent of unparliamentary language following upon a wrenched ; knee, also bruises. " If you leave your bed and return to London before the end of ten days or a fortnight, you will be lame for life." Faid the Dutch doctor, speaking in Dutch, which his patient seemed to j understand perfectly well. He was not I a voluble physician. His shrug said j " please yourself," and had, no doubt,

So Mr. Yarnay wrote as eloquent love letters as he knew how. to explain why he was not at his fiancee's feet. He found the task more trying than he could have imagined, for love-making by post was new and strange to him. He thought of wiring over for his j stenographer to come out to him and bring his typewriter. To dictate the things and have them typed out would save a world of trouble. Then he remembered just in time that this perhaps would hardly {{a. A typed love-letter. Was it quite the thing? He decided that it hardly would be. So (lie stenographer and his machine remained in Copthall Court, and. sitting propped up in his Hutch bed. tlie Throgmorton Street Lothario wrote his own letters of love to the damsel of his choice, and Dr. Vanecllius reaped a comfortable little harvest of guldens from the banana skin's modest presence on the pavement. Hut no answers to the florid epistles arrived in Amsterdam, and presently they began to change in tone. Other words than those of love appeared in them—threats more or less veiled began to peep out. They. too. produced jno effect—neither sign nor token, came | from the lady, for the simple reason that the letters were all piled unopened in a draw in the room where the recipient of them lav recovering as slowly as she could from her overdose of opium. j li was occurring to the detective's I mind to wonder considerably what had been going on at Downbury House all the week while he had been waiting— waiting—(very much fo the neglect" of other business, as he could not but acknowledge to himself i. for the wire that Lady Muresia had promised to send him 'the very minute.' as she etnIphatieally expressed it. that Lady. Belle l was well enough to see him. At lirst. anticipating that lady's speedy recuperation, lie had expected the summons every hour. Until he received it. ami obeyed it, he could write nothing tr- Audrey—he bad nothing to report. That she would for a moment imagine he was forcettinir or neglecting her affairs did not occur to him. Then he wrote, more than once, to Lady Meresia to inquire, and received her assurance that her sister was still in the doctor's hands, and still too weak ] and dazed to see anyone. | Lady Meresia was, as he knew, quite I as anxious for the meeting to take place as he was. but what was to be done— I until the doctor gave leave, the inter- ! view was not possible—leave might be given at any hour —there was nothing j to be done but go on waiting for it. | Early on the Monday following the eventful breakfast in the refreshment I room at Waterloo Station, he called at Mr. Yarnay's office in Copthall Court. He knew well enough that he would not be a welcome visitor there and that he i might find some difficulty in obtaining | speech with the man whom he sought. j but that did not deter him. He was prepared to give tbe morning—or the day if neees-sary—to the task of running him to earth. But when lie found that bis quavrv was taken in hand by fate and laiil prostrate in the Dutch capital, where lie was certain to be detained for several days, then Mr. Blankley's sense of the ridiculous caused him to burst into a very unprofessional fit of laughter, which greatly upset the dignity of Mr. jYarnay's clerk. who ii3d proved the truth of his own statements as to his employer's absence, when the visitor had sharply questioned him about it. by pro- ' ducing the bed-written letters of hi-s

chief, which were of an extremely peevish description. The documents were undoubtedly genuine, it was easy to infer that, and to see that nothing but stern necessity was keeping the newly-engaged broker away from London at this romantic crisis of his career. "What is there to laugh at?" inquired the managing clerk coldly. "Any! of us may slip on one of these beastly banana skins that those beastly careless devils fling about." ••True." -aid Blankley. acquiescently, "but few of us manage to do it at such a beastly convenient moment I" "Wha'" d'ye mean?" asked the clerk, raising his'eyebrows with supercillious and indignant scorn. '•It would Kike too long to explain." said Blankley. as he went laughing away. On the following Thursday evening the detect ive wrote at la-t to -Miss Leslie. "She will wonder that nothing I seems io be doing, I will tell her that j i; is not my fault." he thought. ! With the aid of steam and a paper, knife Mi>~ Smilax read his letter—and: burnt it with asperity shortly after its: arrival next iiiniiiiu'j. ll was pari of this young per.-on's j duty In carry the salvor of letters 1 arrive I liy lir-t pn.-t to the Countess's' room li the morning, and as Ali.-s; Leslie had taken her departure the. even- j ing before .lohn Smith's letter arrived there wr.s no difficulty in examining and detaining her correspondence. I (To lie con:intrcil daily.l