The Loveless Isle

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 2, 3 January 1929, Page 15

The Loveless Isle

By NORMAN PENLEY.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. RUSSELL XAIBX, a tall, good-looking, but somewhat austere bachelor, has achieved considerable success as a company financier, in spite of the fact that he is but thirty-six. His intense devotion to his business has resulted in his circle of friends being very limited, but he is still a welcome guest at the Langtrey family, whenever he condescends to visit their suburban home. The vounsrer Langtrey girl, PAMELA, a vivacious student of music, is one of the few people who are not overawed by Nairn. Calling at his office, she gives him a good-natured "wigging" tor his neglect of his friends. He accepts an invitation to dine with the Langrreys, but cancels it at the last moment by telegram. Instead of dining w ' th them, he is investigating a scientific discovery of SIR FREDERICK FISKE, by which Fiske claims to be able to reduce human fatigue In industry, increasing output prodigiously, and assuming great national prosperity. Fiske is a retired surgeon, whose hobby is research.

CHAPTER V. Nairn Relents. When Russell Nairn arrived at hi* office on the morning after his visit to Fiske's laboratory, his mind was curiously perplexed. All that Fiske had shown him went to prove clearly that the surgeon's assiduous research had led him to a discovery of profound importance. Nairn's knowledge of science was not great, but he had the circumspect mind of the business man. He approached every project with a certain degree of suspicion, and not until he had satisfied himself of its soundness by an elaborate process of cross-examinaUoa did he accept anything he was told. If Fiske had been a dubious witness in a criminal court, he could not have been more severely tested for his statements. Nairn had plied him for hours with question after question. The surgeon, being confident of his facts, welcomed the cross-examination, and, in the end, convinced the sceptical man from Lombard Street. But Nairn's questions did not cease after the interview. Even this morning, as he made his way to the office, he had divided himself into two personalities, the one being Nairn the financier, and the other Nairn the convert to Fiske's theories; and the one asked questions which the other answered from a »tore of scientific knowledge which was surprising, considering the short space of time in which it had been acquired. Into this divided mind the small voice of conscience whispered, to create contusion. • It told him that he hadn't quite played the game with the Langtreys, that hi& word concerning social engagements ought to be as dependable as his word in a business transaction. To make matters worse. Feterr had noted the engagement in Nairn's business diary. It was Peters habit each morning to read over to his chief the diary entries of the previous day, to ensure that nothing had been forgwtten, and to see that uncompleted transactions were carried forward to another day. "Then there is a dining engagement, sir," said Peters in his monotonous ; voice, like a curate droning responses, "Airs. Langtrey, 7.30." "Yes, yes," said Nairn hurriedly, "I had to cancel that. Please remind me to telephone about four o'clock" Thus he dismissed the troublesome matter from his mind. If Peters had forgotten the instruction, Nairn would not have been sorry, but Peters never forgot anything. His- mind had not even the merciful defect of allowing him to forget his own sins. That was why he was so efficient. Promptly at four o'clock Peters entered Nairn's office and brought a frown to his chief's forehead by reminding him of the existence of the Langtreys. "Thank you, Peters. Tell the exchange »irl to get the number." In a moment the telephone bell tinkled discreetly. Usually, when the telephone bell ran™ in '"Littleholrrc," Surbiton, either .Mrs. Langtrey or the maid answered. When Nairn's call came through, Mrs. Langtrey was out. and the maid told him so, adding the information that Miss Pamela was in. Thus the maid interrupted Pamela in the important task of retrimnung a somewhat "tired" hat. "Mr. Nairn on the telephone, Miss Pamela." Pamela looked up, somewhat startled. Then her eyes opened wide, her features suddenly set, and her cheeks coloured. "Tell him I'm not at home," she snapped, in a storm of petulance. "He didn't exactly ask for you, miss. He asked for Mrs. Langtrey, and I told him mistress was out, but you were in." "Then you can say I can't speak to him. Go along," she added impulsively, waving a hand. The maid retreated slowly, and, in an embarrassed manner, began to deliver the message to Nairn. It was obvious to Pamela, who, behind the slightly opened door of the drawing room, could hear what the maid was saying, that Nairn either could not understand what the girl was saying, or would not credit her message. Suddenly a new impulse took possession of Pamela- She ran to the telephone, and took the receiver from a hand that was only too glad to relinquish it. "Pamela here," she said without any preliminaries, and listened impatiently for a few seconds. "No, you didn't promise mother you'd come, you promised me, and I don't like people who go back on their word... No, perhaps I don't understand business, but I do understand promise?, at least when gentlemen make them.... No, I'm not being snappy, only you're the limit, Russell. I'm beginning to think you don't like us." Then came a longer pause. "Make amends. Well, how? Did you say you'd come to-morrow ? Well, I'll ask mother when she conies in.... No, Itussell, I'm not really vexed, but honestly you are trying.... Good-bye." The conversation had hardly taken the turn that Nairn anticipated. He expected the easy-goiiig Mrs. Langtrey would pardon hi? lapse, and repeat the invitation for some future, unsettled date. Pamela's first refusal to epeak .to him and her subsequent direct assault had taken him by surprise, and a man, taken by surprise, like one who marries in haste, is apt to have cause for regret. Aβ he hung up the receiver Nairn was anything but pleased with himself. Saturday was not a convenient night. He

had half made his plan* for the weekend, but these must now be scrapped, for, at all costs, he must put himself right with Pamela. Not so much for Pamela's sake, but for his reputation. Her suggestion that he had not quite played the game stung him, because he knew it to be substantially true. So Saturday it must be. And Saturday it was. Pamela had beaten him, and Pamela knew it That much could have been read in Pamela's eye as she greeted him on his arrival at "Littleholme," if Nairn had been able to read women's eves— which he was not.

Reading balance-sheets had spoiled any faculty he might have had for the more interesting and speculative task of reading women's eyes.

Still there was something in Pamela's eye tat stirred hi* curiosity, something that took his mind out of its customary channels of thought.

Nairn Relents. Pamela wore the frock. And, of course, she wore it for the first time. After the disappointment which Nairn had inflicted by "calling off" the original dinner engagement, Pamela could not regard the frock with the eame fine enthusiasm she had shown when she purchased it. But, with the renewal of the engagement, her pride of possession returned in all its fullness, and to-night she wore the frock with probably even greater pleasure than she would have shown had there been no postponement of the appointment.

Father Langtry. limping slightly, fussed about the drawing room, making a great busineaa of amalgamating French and Italian Vermouth, and recalling how, years ago, he had taken Nairn to the annual dinner of some accountants' organisation when Russell was a young clerk recently bereft of his father, who had been a business acquairnance of Langtrey. Nairn, despite hi* now infrequent visit* to the Langtreys, was glowing rather tired of that reminiscence, but he disciplined himself to tolerance, for he knew that more like it were to come during the meal.

And his presentment proved correct. Mrs. Langtrey and Pamela provided, whenever they got an opportunity, bright and diverting conversation, but Mr. Langtrey and hi* elder daughter, Freda, manufactured dull, conventional talk about the city, and about a notorious but stale case of fraud on the part of a company promoter. "Are you going to play for us after dinner, Pamela ?" asked Nairn, tired of Freda's cocksureness and hie host's platitudes.

" Don't you think you'd rather talk to father about city things?" "Whether I would like to or not, Pamela, your father wouldn't. When he comes home. I'm eure heV thoroughly tired of everything in the city." "Yes," isaid Mr. Langtrey, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had been talking " shop" for the better part of half an hour. " I've always said, Russell, that a man should shed his business, ae you may say, when he puts on hie slippers. " I'm eure you're right, and I hope I shall not have to leave without hearing Pamela play, and (>erhaps sing." "Doesn't ii make you think abflßt the war and other horrible things*" said Pamela. " No, I don't suppose you play the things you used to play when I came on leave, and, anyhow, you play so wonderfully nowadays that it doesn't seem like the eame person." " Very well," said Pamela, " we'll see." After (tinner, Freda begged to be exciwod. She hated the thought, ehe said, of leaving such a distinguished visitor, but her hockey club was holding a concert, and as she was on the committee (Freda was splendid on committees) she was obliged to put in an appearance, though she wouldn't be away for long. Thus, in the drawing room, Pamela's audience consisted of Nairn and her parents. At first she played fragment* which she thought the visitor would like— little etudes by Chopin, extracts from one or two of Beethoven's symphonies, and a great favourite of hie, Paderewtki's " Minuet." Then, striking a few chords, she began to sing. It was a morsel of French nonchalance — La vie est vaine, Un peu d'amour, Uu peu be haine, Et puis—bonjour! La vie est breve; Un peu d'espoir, Un peu de reve, Et puis—honsoir! Nairn sat listening, reflective, in a sturdy tub chair by the fireside. Yes, life was like that. A little of various emotions—hope, vanity, hate, a little dreaming, and he supposed, love. One developed mighty interests and absorbing enthusiasms, but it all came down to .the same formula in the end, and those who never went venturing, who never knew ambition's promptings, seemed, in spite of their meagre rewards, happier than those who enterprised and worried and constructed. Presently, Mrs. Langtrey opened a conversation. She explained that "Father" had twisted his ankle at golf last week. It was almost well, but it still required dressing, and she wondered if Russell would mind if they left Pamela to entertain him for just a little while, so that they might dress the ankle before the maid whose assistance she required, went to bed. Thus it was that Mr. and Mrs. Langtrey left the room, and, as the door closed, Pamela struck the opening chords of that polonaise by Chopin, which Nairn had told her, on an earlier occasion, he liked so well. He looked across at her as she played. The only light in the room came from a tall standard lamp close beside the grand piano whose beautifully polished surface gave back soft, unworldly gleams, tinted with the orange hues of the lampshade. And Pamela, seemingly oblivious of Nairn's presence, looked over towards the bow window, with its long, graceful curtains, and its black bowl crowded with golden daffodils. Nairn loved music; just how much he never knew until that moment.

How magnificently she was playing. Every note spoke; it had emotion, feeling; and every phrase had a thrill peculiarly its own,

Presently she stopped, and, as if brought back to a world from which she had been temporarily absent, she looked towards Nairn and smiled. "Thank you, Pam, that was beautiful. I enjoyed it hugely." He spoke slowly, softly, for the 'echoes of the music still haunted the room and it would have been sacrilege to overpower them with speech. As he spoke, he rose, and moved very slowly towards the piano, holding his cigar just a little behind him, where it glowed in the semi-darkness. He had called her "Pam," and she liked it. She had always been "Pam" to him in the old days before he adopted the "great man" manner. She loked up, the soft light from the lamp flooding her features. Her eyes met his, and something in them, something mysterious, compelling, as powerful as the will of the man himself, seemed to hold her, fascinated. And he was drawn towards her as surely as steel is drawn to the magnet. Only a pace separated them, and, timidly, he moved just a little nearer. "Pam—l—" At that moment, the handle of the door was moved noisily. The spell was broken. Nairn reached a piece of music that lay on the piano. "Strauss," he remarked turning over the first page. "Yes. But that, of course, is a violin concerto," Pamela replied, as though they had been discussing music for the last five minutes—which, of course, they had, so far as there had been any conversation. Mrs. Langtrey and the patient entered, full of apologies for their absence which Nairn assured them truthfully had seemed no more than a minute. Pamela improvised soft music as thev chattered, her head bent low over the

keyboard, oblivious alike of what she was playing and what was being said in the room. She was in a dream.

How long she sat playing, not daring to look up lest his eyes should catch her's, she did not know, but presently she heard her father's voice, and she ceased. "Pamela, I expect Lucy's gone to bed. Do run fnto the dining-room and bring the whisky. You'll find it all ready with the glasses on a trr.y." In an instant she was gone. Until she was almost outside the door she dared not raise her eyes, but even as she did, Nairn's gaze was on her. and in one swift glance, she had renewed the message which had been flashed, unspoken, ten minutes earlier. As she entered the hall, Freda, back from the concert, was descending the stairs, an.l soon there were five people in the drawing-room talking conventionalities, the two men sipping whisky and soda. Pamela stood in the background as Nairn was leaving, standing where the hall light did not cast its brightest rays. He shook hands with the others, and then, as Father Langtrey opened the door. Nairn stepped towards her. "Good-bye. Pamela. Thank you for that beautiful music. *' "Good night. Russell." He waited for a moment as if he wished to say something more, but he added nothing, and turning, he moved briskly and with long strides out into the darkness, where the engine of his car was throbbing, and, if he looked back again. Pamela did not see him. As Nairn's car crossed Westminster Bridge, nearing the end of its journey, he opened the window and flung out his cigar, as Big Ben chimed eleven. He was conscious only of the fact that the cigar -must have been out for a good quarter of an hour. (To l>e continued daily.)