ADVENTURE FOR TWO

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 189, 12 August 1935, Page 15

ADVENTURE FOR TWO

By Holloway Horn

Author of "George," "Bant • Clerk," etc.

CHAPTER VIII —(Continued.) " I'm Clearing Out." Jlaisie's announcement that slie had accepted a job that would take her to South America left Barney dumb. He looked at Maisie in blank surprise. "I thought things over, and it's for the best," she continued. "It is, really. We've simply no chance. You and me, I mean. Think of the scores of people, married and not married, wno drag about tlio country together, sometimes together, sometimes apart. It's no good, Barney. I should simply bo a millstone round your neck, as I told you. You'll fall on your feet —get a job, I mean — probably not connected with the stage. If I hadn't loved you I shouldn't mind so much." Sho poured out tie words as if she were desperately anxious to finish, and sat watching him in silence. "You do understand, Barney, don't you?" she asked anxiously. "No, Maisie, I don't," he said. "I told 331 en all about you and she's simply waiting to welcome you." She shook her head: "She had to say that —the old dear —but I'll bet she has her own opinion. My dear Barney, you're twenty-three. It's childish to think of getting married. Ellen knows that just as I do and you do. No, I'm clearing out. Right out. We may meet later on, but I simply will not tie you up. And that's that." "Look here, let's be engaged, anyway, Maisie. Nobody need know but ourselves. Have you definitely fixed this up?" "Yes. Isaacson's going through the contract now." "But who is this Frenchman?" "Hall-marked, Barney. You needn't have a moment's worry. I can look after myself, anyway, and there will be eight of lis—the girls, I mean." "But what kind of places are you appearing in ?" "Music halls, casinos and cabarets— the usual thing. If I hadn't met you, and if you hadn't been so nice, I should have been right on top of the world tonight. I hate leaving you, you do see that? But I'm certain it's for the best." "How long is the tour going to last?" "At least six months." "At least?" "Yes. It may be for twelve. Depends how things go. We open in Rio. Rio! I've heard my mother speak of Rio!" "We are engaged?" "Sure!" she laughed. "Then I'll get a ring as a pledge of your servitude or whatever it is." "Now, my dear Barney, have you any money to cliuck away on jewellery ? Don't bo absurd!" Maisie spoke crossly. "I have," he said. "I'm not broke, and not likely to be. We'll go out this evening and buy an engagement ring." She shrugged her shoulders: "I love you, Barney, but you're a big silly. Why waste money?" "I don't. But I've got a few hundred by me, Maisie. Now to-night we'll celebrate. We will go somewhere where we shall have a good time. I will array myself in my Sunday best and wo will dine and then we will dance." "Barney," she said. "You really mean that you've got those few hundreds?" "Yes." "Honour bright?" "Honour bright." "I should simply refuse to let you spend a penny if you were going to be hard up. There's no point in lying to me, Barney." He smiled at her: "I'm not a fool, Maisie. If I were down to my last hundred I shouldn't waste a cent. But I'm not. There was a bit rescued from the wreck when my pater died." "Right ho! Then we'll go." They danced until three in the morning, and would have gone on still later if the whole place had not shown unmistakable signs of closing down. There was a bite in the air when they came out, and the yawning porter who let them into the Flora wore a coat over his pyjamas. There is no more depressing sight in the whole world than the night porter of a hotel near Euston wearing his overcoat over his pyjamas, but they steadfastly refused to be depressed. "Good-night, beloved," ehe said to him when they reached the second floor. "It's been marvellous! Whatever happens I shall never forget to-night!" "Promise ?" "I promise." "And you love me?" "I love you. Like that!" She kissed him full on the lips, and there on that dingy silent landing, high up above Euston, they clung together. "Barney!" she whispered. "You must be tired out." "No . . . no . . ." she said. "Good-night, Maisie!" "I suppose so," she said. "Yes. Goodnight, my beloved!" And again she kisfied him. He stood there as she turned to her door. "Good-night," she called again to him, and for a moment he saw her smile in the dim light. Then, quietly, he heard the sound of her closing door.

Maisie Meets Ellen. The next few days went on oiled wheels. Although he urged her to go to Mossford, she refused, and he spent the week-end in town. The boat that was to take the Marc Girls to Rio de Janeiro sailed from Liverpool at six o'clock on Wednesday evening, and on tlio Tuesday they deckled to do the journey in the Yellow Peril. "If it breaks clown we can still get there in time," ho said. "Besides, it never has broken down." As they were leaving the Flora Hotel, with Mrs. Dalroy's tearful blessings echoing in their ears, Rossiter pointed out that their route would take them through Mossford. "Wo pass the bottom of Meadow Lane. Why not drop in and see Ellen? Just for half an hour." "All right." An hour later, Ellen opened the front door of the cottage to find them there. "Hello Ellen! I've brought a friend to see you.'* The old Scotswoman looked Maisie in the eye for a long moment, and then held out her hand. "Come in," she said. "I was pickling onions, but they can wait." "I'm afraid we can't stop, Ellen. We're going to Liverpool." "Liverpool ?" Maisie, Rossiter noticed, was rather nervous. "What a lovely garden you have, Miss McLoughlan," she said. "Aye. It'll be fine in the spring. There's just a few autumn flowers now. You'll no stay for lunch?" "I'm afraid we can't, Ellen," Rossiter said. "It can be ready within the hour," she said, calmly. "But it's just as you like." "I think we can manage it, Barney. After all, it doesn't matter what time we get to Liverpool, to-day," Maisie put in. "Then we'll stay," he said. "This is the kind of cottage I've always dreamed about," Maisie said. "It's none too bad," Ellen admitted. "Did you show the lassie the house where you used to live?" "Yes," said Rossiter. "I prefer this. That seemed a depressing house." "I must be seeing to the food," said Ellen. "It'll be a scratch meal, but you're welcome." "Can I help?" asked Maisie. "Aye. Come into the kitchen," Ellen said, to Rossiter's complete surprise. Rossiter went out into the garden and left them together, and in what appeared an incredibly short time the meal was ready. "You'll be coming back alone, I hear," Ellen said, as they sat down. "Oh, Maisie told you about Rio?" "Yes." "What do you think of it?" "Does it matter what I think of it? It's settled. It'll probably all be for the best. Things usually are." "That means you don't think a lot of the idea?" Rossiter said. "No, Barney. I meant what I eaid. No more." Maisie, he noticed, was no longer self conscious; it appeared that the two women had achieved an understanding as well as a meal. She said very little, but listened with a quiet smile while Rossiter and Ellen became involved in one of their arguments, although she had only a vague idea what it was about. Soon after the meal the Yellow Peril set out oil its long journey to the north. Maisie turned and waved as the car reached the high road; Ellen was still standing at the gate. "What do you think of her?" Rossiter asked. "I think she's wonderful, Barney. If nobody else ever loves you she does." "And is that so wonderful?" "Why didn't she marry? She must have been a good-looking woman when she was young." "Her man died. She's the sort who would have one man and none other— whatever happened." "She would have been a wonderful mother." "She is,"' said Rossiter. "She mothers everything. And yet there's nothing soft about her. In some moods she's the most astringent person I know. And she's so amazingly tolerant. I doubt if a real mother would have let me choose the stage." "Or welcome me like she did," put in Maisie. "The old prejudice against the stage is more or less dead." Maisie shook her head. "I'm glad you like her, Maisie. I've an idea of taking a flat in town and having Ellen as housekeeper." "That's a lovely cottage," she said wistfully. "But I suppose you couldn't live in Mossford and work in town." "Why not? Scores do. There's a train down after the theatre." "Personally I would much rather live in the cottage than a flat. Fancy waking up in the country!" She grew sleepy as the hours passed, and after a silence he glanced down to find she was asleep.

"Thank You for Everything." It was dark and late when they reached the outskirts of the great port, but Rossiter had been there before, and had no difficulty in making his way to a little hotel where he had previously stayed. Considering the hour, an excellent meal was provided for them—steak and chips, followed by a rum omelette—and afterwards they sat by an enormous lire ill the sitting room and talked. They had the whole room to themselves until people came in from theatres and cinemas. "I'm going up, Barney," 6he said, suddenly. "I'm tired." "So will I." "Good-niglit, Barney!" she said, with a smile. "Thank you for everything!" "What do you mean, Maisie V" "Just that. fJood-niglit. I'll bet Ellen's thinking of us at this moment." "She'd be in bed." "Lying awake in the dark . . . thinking. Still, she's not the only one who loves you, Barney." And with a sudden kiss sho turned away to her door. The next morning they found the s.s. Rialto and, almost as unavoidable, the Mare Girls, who were clustered on the rail apparently looking out for Mai6ie. Rossiter had already met the little Frenchman and his wife who "ran" the : troupe. They were simple, kindly folk, and ho felt completely reassured about Maisie. So much depends on the girl herself, whether it be in London or Rio, and lie liai no doubts about Maisie. He felt strangely lonely tis the great T>oat moved alm«»t imperceptibly away from the quay. The widening, sullen, oily water seemed to be severing his life from hers. Ho could see her clearly for a while, standing with the other girls, but presently he could only distinguish the group. Then in turn that faded into the entity of the receding ship and he turned back into Liverpool (which is really a very friendly city) with a growing dislike of it in his' heart. (To be continued daily.)