CHERRY FAYRE
By LESLIE CARGILL.
CHAPTER XXII. A Shock for Melhuish. Against this she could only argue the merit* of free choice. He remained adamnnt, upheld by an egotistical faith in an ability to mould Cherry to his way of thinking "Some day you will thank me for being apparently hard. Actually I am nothing of the kind, merely a man very much in love, and trying to act as I think for the best." "Suppose," she said fiercely, "my daughter refuses to go on with it?" "I understand her better than that. If she did, there is still Dallas. I imagine he has strict notions of honour." "Honour!" "You don't appreciate what men call 'cricket' . . . rather more than a game, but a very rigid code of social behaviour." "More rubbish. l'ou're arguing against your own true self, and you know perfectly well that my advice is well worth taking. "In spite of which I still look forward to being your son-in-law." She refused to be dispirited although the set-hack seemed really serious. Phyllis Lindley was the last hope. But would the girl play up to it? Once more she laid her cards on the table, explaining Vincent's obstinate attitude and what it would mean to all of them if it could not be broken. "What exactly do you expect me to do?" Phylli3 demanded. ' "Plead with the man. Start where I left off. Vincent thinks a grea't deal of you, I imagine." "You mean ..." "That you are a very attractive girl, my clear. Isn't that sufficient explanation?" "Yes." "Time is short. Do your best." Phyllis sighed but agreed. She was looking her best when she called on Melhuish, who regarded his favourite relative approvingly. "How is the little conspiracy progressing?" ho inquired. "Perfectly putrid. I'm afraid we're at a dead end. That young man hasn't eyes for anybody else but Cherry Vance and she knows it. Nothing we can do is gointr to be of any avail. Do you know. Vincent, that you're collecting trouble." "Think so?" "Sure of it. Why don't you get out of it before it's too late?" I "Because I'm in love." A soft smile played about her mobile lips. "Y'ou mean you think you are when all the time it is a case of pure obstinacy. Wanting something means getting it with you. Cherry's youth is very appealing and because she didn't fall for you it made you all the more determined. Not so many years ago I was regarded as your favourite. But I was foolish enough to let you see that there would be no opposition . . . a very had mistake, my dear Vincent." Vincent had been looking puzzled, bat as she went on there came a dawning understanding. "I see," he said slowly. "Mrs. Vance has been getting at you and this is a neat endeavoiuffto turn me aside. Confess, now!"
Phyllis nodded miserably. "Don't look so downcast," he went on. "Your arguments are the best I have heard up to now. Please carry on and elaborate them."
"You're hateful when you sneer, Vin cent."
"Goodness, what an accusation. I am quite sincere. You were just getting interesting. And to think I expected that ultimately you and George would make a match of it and straighten things out all round. Don't yrtu like him?" "Tremendously!" "Enough to marry him?" "He'd never dream of it. No, I don't think I'd go so far as that either, though I was beginning to enjoy his company , . ." "A bad match anyway," he said, with a shake of his head. "Your husband must be more mature! Someone, for example, like myself." "Vincent, what on earth are you say-
ing?" "Just an idea of mine," he answered. "One day I will go into details, if you will permit. Meanwhile you'd better run along to Mrs, Vance and reassure her. There is going to be an awful scandal in society when the wedding is broken off at the last moment, but we'll live it down, I suppose. It would save my face if young Dallas eloped with Cherry Vance. Don't you think yourself that would be a fine idea?"
Phyllis was watching him with shining eyes. "What a splendid man you are. Vincent!"
"Not many people seem to recognise it."
"Except myself, and I think I've, thought it for years." Ttom after she wn-s gone Vincent Melhiiish sat staring into vacancy. His thoughts were mixed but ho was startled to discover that the prospect of losing Cherry was not so dreadful after all.
CHAPTER XXITI. Back to The Bungalow. For an elopement the going of Cherry and George was a rather more conspicuous affair than they had anticipated. The days of Gretna Green, picturesque and romantic though they may have been, are no more. A modern young mati may substitute a motor car, or even an" aeroplane, for the old-time galloping horse, but the prosaic law decrees so many formalities that complicate matters exceedingly. Obtaining a special license is not the simplest of matters when banns are already published specifying a different bridegroom. George couldn't, have whisked his lady love from the door of one church and rushed her off to another. At least it wasn't possible in • England though America, for one conntry, still permits adventurous resource, 'influence, especially when wielded by somebody in the position of Vincent Melhuish, backed by Edward Vance senior, can work wonders. Even the newspapers were kind, although they did not quite know what to make of it all. The notion of a jilted potential bridegroom exerting every endeavour on belialf of bis successful rival was -so amazing that everybody discreetly avoided dwelling on it. Down in Surrey, at the bungalow, old Mrs. Phibbs was waiting to welcome the runaways. She took it more philosophically than anybody, Teddy Vance had flown down to wnrn her. This time he alighted comfortably on the flying field instead of descending more spectacularly on an inconvenient rooftop. •'l'm sure T 'opes as they'll be 'appy," Mrs. Phibbs had exclaimed. "Me and . my old man 'ud our ups and de-vns,
but it were mostly for the best. I think Mr. George will be a rich man now they tells me. Will he be bringing down servants for 'imself and 'is lady ?" "I understand they want you to 'do' for them as before." "There now, sir! Do they really. My, but I shall be honoured. Master Edward. Shall von be stavin' on as well?" "This is a honeymoon, Mrs. Pliibbs. Extra visitors wouldn't be welcome. You know the old saying about two's company . . ." Mrs. I'hibbs did, and smiled approval. But it is doubtful if Mr. and Mrs. George Dallas would have noticed the presence of others. They were far too wrapped up in each other. There was so much to do, to see, and to say. Even the garden lost its air of familiarity and seemed like a mirror of paradise. The old cherry tree seemed symbolic of their love, and they often stood hand in hand near-by remembering the glorious spring day when they first realised that love lurked among the beauties of the garden. When the Cherry Fayra was set again at Barlesworth they went together as if taking part in a sacred duty. Yet Cherry shivered as she looked on while rich buyers from all parts pitted their moneybags against the smaller local people. "I might have been sold to the highest bidder myself," she murmured. "So you were, darling," lie assured her. "Nobody in creation could bring eueh a wealth of love as I did. The bidding was keen, but you weren't wasted on the unappreciative. Dash it, that sounds priggish, doesn't it?" "Keep on being priggish," she retorted. "This market is a charming sight, but it still saddens me a hit."
"Then don't worry your pretty head about it. 'This world is but a cherrye faire' sang old Lydgate many yearn ago. A wise chap for a poet. I wonder if lie knew that in some parts they call cherries 'love fruit'?" "Why?" she asked. "Because they ' are so perfectly matched in pairs as a rule. There's perhaps a moral to be got out of the fact that sometimes they grow in trios, and often in bad matches, only I won't point it. . . ." They were certainly well matched, and imt a few eyes turned admiringly—«ometTmes enviously—towards them. So the months passed. Sometimes they would stroll about the pleasant lanes, or drive for miles in the shining offspring of the old Wedge. Occasionally there would be calls to London and attempts to induce them to leave their quiet retreat. Melhuish and Phyllia were being seen often together, and Mr. and Mrs. Vance had found a new and altogether pleasant sense of companionship. "Never mind society even if you can afford to cut a dash," the once leader of the smart set advised. "You're much better off living simply and happily. What is George up to nowadays?" "Inventing yet another new type of car. The workshops seemed so lonely when hie first mechanical baby grew up and founded a family of its own." "Don't let him neglect you, my dear." "There's no fear of that. Come down and stay with us for a few days and judge for yourself." Her eyes had a faraway look. "I shall have a very nappy secret to share with you . . ." But that is a family affair. Tt belongs to some other story which really hasn't anything at all to do with us. The End.
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Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 102, 2 May 1935, Page 22
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1,584CHERRY FAYRE Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 102, 2 May 1935, Page 22
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