POOR RELATIONS.

Hawera Star, Volume XLVII, 8 September 1928, Page 8

POOR RELATIONS.

Sir Robert; Graham, the Laird, had returned from. his. mysterious. visit to London, which- he. had> : undertaken alone, leaving Allen his valet, perturbed at home. Browne, the old butler, who had grbwn grey in the service or the Grahams, shook his head. “Sir Robert has no been hiinsel' for ower Jang,” he mo aimed. milieu would \ohchsafe nothing, • thef '"others would give him credit lor being more deep |y in his master's confidence than he was. A housemaid had the temerity to suggest a lady in the question, and withdrew iu tears from the storm she invoked about her head. And now the Laird was back, tall, fine, erect, bis crisp thick liair sleek and silvery, his blue eyes Jceen, yet humorous .as ever, nothing iu manner or looks to give any clue to his mysterious jaunt, lie who hardly ever left his beloved Strawnray, where lie had spent his early married Jile. with his beautiful Sheila, who no>v. lay buried in the family burial place oil the hillside overlooking the lock. James Murrey, his solicitor, conic for the morning, and stopped for. lunch— Browne hoped in vain to glean something from his word or look; nor were his ahxieties lessened to hear his master’s parting words. “Well, well, Murrey, there is no need to fuss. I dislike leaving here intensely, but what must be, must be; you will look after things for me, sind time alone will show. I have cabled to’ Donald, my orphaned nepliow; to come from Australia.; I fear if he has not acted- on my advice, lie. may get a nastv jolt presently. Weill well, Good-bye.” .- “Send Allen to nib,”, were the Laird’s words «fter Browne had helped Sir Murrey into his coat, had pro 1 ferred him his hat and umbrella, and closed the door. Allen received orders to pack up clothes for a lengthy sojourn in town, this being a Saturday, and the departure being settled for the Monday. ■ “I accompany you, of course, Sir y Robert?” lie suggested. “No, Allen, not this time; I shall be all right. I shall miss you, but 1 go alone this-.time.” -

“There’s something up, and it bodes no good,” declared Airs Mellon, the housekeeper. . • “Foolish ' old besom,” grumbled Browne, annoyed because her words inarched hand in hand with her fears. “I don’t hold with lawyers, ” declared Alien, “Wills and deaths, deaths and wills, . that’s lawyers.” Everyone wagged their heads and agreed. Two days previously, Airs Graham, widow of Sir Robert’s youngest brother David, had received a letter that had upsether. “Upon my word, what next?” she murmured, “and what can it mean?” Strawnray Castle, April—-—, 19 .

“My dear Rose,— “I have* not seen you iiow for many moons and 1 feel I should much like to .give myself the pleasure of doing so, and bettering my acquaintance with my nephew and nieces “Without further preamble in a time of stress and anxiety, may I claim your kind hospitality for an old man who cannot in any way repay you as you will deserve. - “I have had a sharp blow, Rosa, but I will not trouble you about it: lam not bringing my man Allen; I am sure your invaluable man Wilkinson will give me all needful assistance. . 1 propose arriving on Monday next unless you wire to the contrary. “I-requir'e to be in town a few weeks to set my house in order and to discover whether I shall be able to continue to live in my beloved Strawnray. “Please forgive this somewhat sudden request and descent upon you, “Ever your affectionate brother, , “Robert J. Graham.”

Mrs (J rah am re-read the letter carefully. “Rather ambiguous,” she meditated “but I suppose he’s been playing the fool ovei- his investments and dropped most of his money. It’s a great I>ore, but I can hardly refuse him, and, after all, he is grand seigneur, and Sir Robert Graham of Strawnray stands for something.” Ringing for the housemaid, she gave orders that a certain little bachelor’s room.on the ground floor should be prepared by Monday for Sir Robert Graham; his irian was li'dt coming with him, she understood. Ellen, the housemaid, departed as full of wonderment as the household at Strawnray. Sir Robert had had the lost guest chamber in the past. “Rich or poor,” declared Wilkinson “it’s a pleasure and a privilege to wait upon Sir llobert, and I shall take upon ruyself to do so, whether or no madam gives orders.” Later oil the younger members of the family discussed the matter.

“It’s lucky for Uncle Robert lie’s *got a title and is good looking and well groomed, 'dr I am sure mother wouldn’t have had him for a minute,” said Jean,

“That theory doesn’t hold good with girls,” drawled James, who aspired to the Guards; “according to you Sheila should haVo quite a decent time instead of being our little Cinderella.” Sheila Cameron flamed crimson. “I wish you’d shut tip, James; you pretend to take my part, but you rub it in as much as anyone that I’m a poor relation.” Her bltie eyes flashed through sudden unshed tears. “Poor old Uncle Robert, I do pity him,” she said.

“That’s shrewd dig, Sheila,” laughed her cousin Grace. “Your husband will catch a tartar when he catches you.”

“I’m not husband-hunting,” retorted Sheila, “and I .don’t want to be ‘caught’ by anyone,” she added. Grii.ce curled her lip in a sneer as she lit another cigarette, hut made no reply. She was a very soignee, perfect blonde cendree; her hair", strained back from her smooth forehead (in the latest fashion) to a small knob in tlie nape of her white neck, could not detract from her china-like beauty; pencilled dark eyebrows arched cold grey eyes fringed with dark lashes. Her straight nose bent ever so delicately—to thin, scarlet-tinted lips. Sheila, with her chestnut curls and vivid beauty, felt vulgar and flamboyant beside Grace, Jean and James, her twin cousins, were dark, handsome, but heavy-look-ing.

“The blow was a bit softened by Donald’s cable. A millionaire cousin, even if lie is a colonial, is not to be sniffed at, is be?” laughed Jean. ■“No good to you, Grace,” drawled James. “Despard’ll see to that.” “Idiott!” said Grace. “Despard doesn’t count. What I likes 1 takes, as the sailor said, but I’m not likely to like in this case; I can’t stand colonial accents.” s -

“Oh, yes you will; you can’t resist scalps,” put in .Sheila. , “Oilt you get, kidlet!” replied Grace, with a little flash. .“Our mamma waits your ministrations in her ‘parlour.’ ” “She’s u pretty kid,” remarked James, as .Sheila left the room; “you’d better look to your laurels, Grace. I’ve seen Despard’s eyes roving from time to time. By-the-by, how was it Sheila came into our mater’s care and not Uncle Robert’s?”

“Because,” said Grace, “I’ve always heard that Uncle Douglas Cameron was a waster, and Aunt Alary quarrelled with Uncle Robert because he said so; personally I think there’s a bit of the waster in Sheila, too; too emotional so mother lias her till she’s 19.” “All the same she’s a. good kid,” said Jean, “and she’s not had much of a time with us, and when she’s clear of us, now Uncle Robert’s lost his little all, there’s not much hope for her there.”

“Jeanny you’re prosy, I yawn!” was all Grace vouchsafed.

.Uncle Robert arrived and dropped into liis allotted and somewhat humble place ; lie went out regularly and mysteriousU- every day, and eluded all questions with childlike innocence. Donald also arrived, his headquarters being the Ritz, his looks excellent, his prosperity undoubted; Aunt Rosa smiled upon him. From the first he was undeniably attracted by Grace, who declared his accent “adorable.” He danced to her piping. Cool and calm as a moon-maiden, she brought him to her feet. If she had any heart, Donald with his charm and good looks may have touched it. Before a month was past £hey were engaged. Donald, though 28, had never really lost his head before; lie worshipped Grace as a dream of elusive purity. He accepted the idea of Uncle Robert’s losses, and supposed that when he had realised his share of the mines he had re-invested foolishly.

But Sheila, knowing Grace A to Z, raged, powerless to open Donald’s eyes lest shte betrayed her own secret. Alending her aunt’s lace, she thought of Uncle Robert, how brave and dignified he was; he even seemed to have some hidden source of amusement. It was wonderful how he kept the Graham family in check; no one could take a liberty with him; then suddenly Donald stood beside her. • “I never heard you come in!” she bxclaimed. “What has happened?” He held out a cable.

“0—Oh!” gasped Sheila, as she read it. “So we’re all three paupers. I am so sorry, Donald I” “You’re a good little sort, Sheila,” said Donald. “I expect Uncle Robert foresaw this coming when he advised me to sell out a year ago; but lie’s hot done himself muck good it seems.” Sheila’s eyes widened. “Donald what about Grace? Don’t be angry,” pleaded Sheila, “all of us know Grace.”

His colour deepened. “I’ve been so sorry,” she faltered at the wrath on his face; “anyhow you 11 lind out for yourself,” and gathering up her work, she fled. “So you’il be 19 to-nioriow, and freed from Aunt Rosa’s guardianship. It’s my birthday, too, Sheila, and we are to celebrate- it together. I hear the family are off to some function,” said Uncle Robert. “I wish your aunt had provided you . with a few innocent amusements, dances, pretty frocks, arid such like.” “She’s not been bad to me,” declared Sheila, loyally’, “and she has two girls to take out and launch; anyway i’ll ;love my evening alone with you, and I’ve seen the cook and metamorphosed our dinner, and Wilkinson is going to produce some- champagne for a last fling.” “Why a lasti fling?” “Because I’m not going to eat tliy bread of charity any longer, uncle mine; Aunt Rosa has got me a job. I’m to. walk but pugs for a rich old lady, write her letters, arrange her flowers. I am leaving in two days to take up my place.” “Why haven’t I heard ”of this?” I ncie Robert’s manner was that of the autocratic laird. “1 only heard of it myself half an hour ago. Have you seen llonalcl; lie’s all up against things; .his money’ gone ?” “Thank God,” was the amazing reply; “if it only rids him of that vampire Grace! A little poverty ami hard work hurts no man.” Undo Robert looked very young and smart, full of suppressed mirth; not in the least aware of being a poor relation, and not a bit sympathetic, Sheila thought.

The news of Donald’s loss fell like a bomb on Aunt Rosa. “Where will these tilings end; it will be us next?” she thought, egotistically; but Grace only laughed coldly when Donald asked her if she would wait for him or face marriage with a poor man. “My dear boy. I’m like tide and time, no waiting for me; when I heard of your disaster I told Despard I would marry him, but,” and her light eyes darkened between her thick lashes, “I am,,modern enough to say frankly that I think a lover is the natural compensation to a loveless marriage.” She laid her hand on his arm. Hot blood sang in Donald’s ears, surged into his tanned face, and receded, leaving him grey. If her callousness and lack of sympathy had hurt him. this self-revelation 1 si locked and dismayed him beyond all measure. Ho turned abruptly and left her. Uncle Robert met him as he searched blindlv for hat and stick in the hall.

“Going for a turn?” said he. “Bit of a knock, from Grace?” he ventured. “We all >felt it would come, nothing to be done. Things that sparkle aren’t always diamonds, and diamonds are d Id hard things at the best. You will come and join me and Sheila in our birthday festivities to-night? Good, The three detrimentals; ta tit!” V

“Sham,• diamonds,” thought Donald hotly. What a blind fool he had been. Anyway he would joint Uncle Robert and Sheila, if only to show Grace he was not wounded to the death.

’ A slieaf of flowers arrived with Sheila’s early tea from the “staff,” who all loved her; a box of chocolates from Grace; some handkerchiefs and a warm, plain dressing-gown from Aunt ; Rosa. “Useful for your new venture, iiiv dcetr Shoila^ 7 a cigarette case fioin. James; a set of books Jean knew she wanted; Sheila’s heart warmed to Jean; a bar brooch with a sapphire from Donald, naughty, impecunious Donald. Nothing from Uncle Boh. She had sent him her photograph in a little silver frame, but at dressingtime she found an exquisite evening frock of palest blue, and irridescent beads, with shoes to correspond, a card stating “Uncle Bob, with love to Cinderella 1” , , ... , - When the three detrimentals met ior their orgv Uncle Robert, arrayed in bis kilt, Donald, sleek and smart, decided to put resentment behind him. Sheila iiiico'ed Uncle Bob for bis beautiful present, arid both men thought her a dream of beauty.

They had a merry time. Before Wilkinson ■ left them to their dessert, Sheila made a sign, and he started a “rainophoiie (Aunt Rosa’s cherished 30-guinea, one) behind Sir Robert. As the drone and skirl of bagpipes filled the room he started. “T was determined you should have your pipes to-night, Uncle Bob and feel like old times!” cried Sheila. I hunted all London for that record, and tHere’s *i reel on the' otlior sicl©j <mcl we’ll dance a twosome presently. I challenge yon!” . , ... ]\irs Graham, bored with the rcception, left her hostess, a migraine the excuse. She arrived to be annoyed bydelay in answering the door; the footman' appeared perturbed, figures seemed to slink away at her entrance and vanish; a sound of bagpipes, of shiill hecks and hocks, filled the air. She burst into the dining-room to find lier hrother-in-law and niece in the fast wild twirls of a reel, the gramophone, her gramophone, blaring and squeakin' a Scottish air. Donald seated amid the disordered appointments* of the table “egging them on; so indelicate after his refusal by Grace.” The record ended with a final squirt, am! the delinquents stood warm and palpitating before her. She glared at Sheila, glowing and lovely in her delicate finery. “What is the meaning of this? sue "gasped. “Go to your room Sheila.; vou will leave for Airs Combers tomorrow. Now Robert, perhaps you will explain?”

“Certainly, and with great pieasuie. Take a chair Rosa, but I want Sheila and Donald to hear me.” . seem to Have had the idea ever since I have been here that I have ltist mv money, and been obliged to close Strawnray. It pleased me to foster the idea. As a matter of fact f have been to see my doctor on a very serious matter, and have been under observation and treatment. Ibis morning I received so excellent a a crdict that 1. am returning home tomorrow. It has been a most satisfactory visit to me, enabling me to discover exactly how I stand with my family. As for Sheila, if she will come and cheer up her old uncle he will only be too delighted. I shall see that she is entirely provided foil as my adopted daughter. She is free at 19 of youi jurisdiction, and you must make youi excuses to Airs Comber as best you may. Sheila has been Cinderella, long enough.” ... . , “You darling!” cried the , girl, fling-j ing her arms round his neck. “This child,” pursued Uncle Bob. “has not only gone out of her way to show sympathy in my imagined poverty but tried to re store to me toiihdit mv ‘pomp and circumstance’ as Laird of Strawnray, a touching act of loving courtesy lor which alone I find nothing too good for her.” “it’s a most underhand and disgraceful trick, taking advantage of me like this,” said Airs Graham, iismg >viih dignity. _ ' . +l .

“I shall wire to Mrs Comber that vou are ill. Sheila. If I were. to. add ‘behaved’ it wouldn’t come amiss.” | Sir Robert looked a trifle rueful. j “Tricks are never dignified, Rosa, lie admitted, “at the same time, to those who play the game, there need he no regrets, and let, me thank you at least for what hospitality you have shown me.” . ...... .... “Thank you, auntie, too, tor all tlio sears sou have looked after me,” Sheila ran prettily to her aunt, but she waved her aside, and left the room. “How clever of her to make us feel m the wrong,” laughed Sheila, “and how lovely to. know I’m going -to be with you for ever and ever. Uncle Bob; but what's going to happen to Donald ?” • . c “Donald as my heir., lam m need ot an agent; what could be better than that post for him. With niy agents house and pay he will he independent, and he will learn my ways, and my people’s ways, and be ready to take over the reins when my time comes to " “Hut that’s not to be for years and years ; tho doctor said so, clidii t he; Legged Sheila her cheek against his. “Thank you, sir,” said Donald, taking his hand. “I’ll love to come, and 1 promise I will do my best and ‘play the game,’ as you say.”—From the “Australasian.”*