THE RANT MILLION,

Lake County Press, Issue 2796, 31 July 1919, Page 2

THE RANT MILLION,

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

Author of “The Maid of tbeMill,' “The Deatli Mask, I’ea cock Farm,” “The Dream Song,’’Etc [COPYRIGH T.l

] CHaPTJKU xil -(Continued). The dinner, when it came, was jccellent. The Colonel, in the best f humours, acted as host, Anhony, on the plea of being unused o social functions, having declined o take that position. He, now the nost important of the Clairs, took iis seat inconspicuously between drs. Clair-O’Douuell and Mrs. 3 et Glynn, his host being near dm, and Brendan with Sadie acing him. The gift of the cheques put all n the highest spirits. The dinner jegan amidst a chorus of thanks, md proceeded informally. Anhony, happy in having bestowed rappiness on others, enjoyed himself immensely. When the champagne had been opened, the Colonel rose and proposed Anthony’s health. “Here's three times three for our esteemed and generous relative, who has conceived the noble ambition of placing the Clairs of Ballyran once more on a pinnacle of glory! ’ ’ he wound up with. “Thank you, all!” Anthony responded, mu<*h moved, when the toast had been enthusiastically honoured. “I feel almost overcome by your kindness. And now you are doubtless anxious to learn dual benefit in consequence. I the Clair family and your individual benefit in consequence. I can mention them only very briefly, for, after all, their materialisation depends on yourselves.’’ “We don’t ask for a speech,’’ in terposed the Colonel, hurriedly, as Anthony paused. Brendan applauded the sentiment. “As you all know, my object in life now is to apply poor Mr. Van Rant’s legacy to the upraising of the Clair family,’’ went on Anthony. “Now, the head of, the regenerated Clairs must be a super Clair, to concentrate on us the admiration and respect of the world. It is a disappointment to me that our good friend the Colonel will not now take up his residence in the Castle, and at once do his best to devolp into a super-Clair But he insists on time, and we must give him that so that he may think out well his scheme for developing greatness I hope he may succeed to the full; and no doubt he will, for perhaps, like the rest of the family, he is cleverer than he looks —except Brendan, who I trust will not turn out to have looked cleverer than he is.’’ “My dear Anthony,” said Brendan, staring up, but smiling diplomatically. “Pardon me, I shall not say much more,” resumed Anthony. “Fc", now that I come to think of it, there is really little to say at pre ent. As the Colonel will not go into the Castle, then those of you who desire to may do so at once, for the place is now ready for you There you will each strive your utmost to develop your individ"alities and achieve distinction in whatever way may lie in you. Your gether depend on your success in each of you in the family, will altogether depend on your success in that endeavour. So the sooner von all start the better. That’s all. The day had been very hot, and the dining-room had consequently become oppressively warm. Mrs. Clair-O’Donnell, who was stout, was the first to rise and go to the half-open window. Sadie followed her. when Mrs. Clair did likewise for the hostess did not offer to take the ladies to the drawing-room, as all wished to remain with Anthony Brendan crossed to Mrs. ClairO’Donnell’s vacant seat. Anthony Clair, always a very abstemious man, had at the beginning of the dinner filled himself a whisky and soda, intending to take only that. But when the chain-

md had put them on when the Colonel emerged from the dining- | •oom. “Hello. Anthony! Where are you oil to?” he a-sked. “I’m going home—in your trap.” ;aid Anthony. “I’m not very veil” The Colonel stared at him with a puzzled face, and thin began to speak. But Anthony, not staying to listen, went out. He walked round to the stable and got the Colonel’s horse, which lie was able to harness in the moonlight. The coachhouse was open, and he yoked the horse to the trap. Then, opening the back gate, he mounted the trap and drove away. Hardly conscious of anything but that he was at the moment living through a kind of nightmare of anger and shame, he doggedly jogged on in the direction of Peafield. CHAPTER XIII. Evening was falling on the second day after the dinner when the Rosebank trap, containing the Colonel and Mr. Glynn, mode an unexpected appearance at 1 ealield. The youthful Minogues, at’ the moment feeding claves, rushed indoors tumultuously with tin j news, and their mother came out, of the house Hurriedly wiping soapsuds off her hands on her skirt as the trap drew up at the hall door. “Mr. Clair is in?” said the

Colonel, merely as a matter of form, for from the upper rooms came the wailing of a clarionette. •‘We should like to see him.” | “Sure yes. sir, and why not? 1 Cor I’ll go bail the sight of you geutlelnen will be welcome to him, that’s been eaten up with loneli ness all day, answcied Alls Minogue, fussily. And then she turned sharply to one of her young hopefuls, “What are ye doing there, Miko, staring at the gentleman like an omadhaun, and the. liorse waiting to be Where’s your manners, you'limb ? The Colonel and his companion, leaving the trap in charge of Miko, accompanied Mrs. Minogue upstairs without waiting for the ceremony of first sending up theii names. Dismissing the obsequious mistress of the house on arrival at the bare landing, the Colonel rapped at Anthony’s door, and, taking the invitation to enter as granted, turned the handle.

ague was passed round, ne , houghtlessly, in the excitement of u he moment, drank toast after y oast. Mrs. Glynn had seen to his j., ;lass being kept replenished, and, , astly, Brendan had filled his glass everal times in rapid succession All at once Anthony rose and In aid abruptly, in a low voice: I m —l’m not feeling well. I’ll go out ’ nto the air.” “I’ll go with you,” laughed Mrs jrlynn, putting her arm through ‘ aim. “Yes; come into the garten.” All who lingered at the table , sow rose, and stood talking loudly. Amidst the medley of chatter and 1 , laughter, Anthony and his companion slipped from the room and j □ut into the garden. Anthony < 1 went to the seat among the roses, * and sat down | The moon, nearing her full, rode high in the clear sky. Anthony sat silent, trying to collect his thoughts, I while he listened to the chatter of * his companion. “You have been generous—very generous, Anthony,” she said, with sudden insistence, when she had led on to the subject of the Van Rant legacy skilfully. “And you ’ have promised to do a great deal i for us. But you say we are to be finally rewarded in proportion as we may distinguish ourselves. Do not ask too much of Brian and me. Anthony! I have done my best to give my six children every care, so that they will be a credit to their mother’s family. Ah! yon cannot understand all I have done for them, and the sacrifices it has entailed. What more could you expect of me now?” “You are wonderful!” replied Anthony, dully. “What more could I expect of you ?” Petunia Glynn, who had got her front name from a horitucultural mother, looked smilingly into Anthony’s face, as she went on rapidly, in a sweetly-persuasive voice : “Say you’ll give me a good share c# Van Rant’s money without asking me to do anything unreasonable. Anthony. What distinction could I now aim at? Brian has got on in his jmofessiou, we are all proud of him; but six children mean heavy expense It is time for the eldest—he has your own name, Anthony—to go to college, and then he has to get his profession. And we must treat the other four boys equally well. But how can we do that unless you are generous to us? Promise me, dear, dear, generous Anthony, that you will give me a large share of that money, and give it soon. Now that we are alone, let us arrange how much of it your kind, generous heart will ” “I think a lot of you, Pet!” said Anthony, catching and pressing her hand. “I’ll do anything ” Mrs. Glynn started as a shadow was cast by the moonlight on the path. Half-turning, she saw Father Dolan entering the garden by a small gate near the rustic seat. “Let go my hand!” she said, in a sharp whisper to Anthony. “Listen to me, Pet,” he said, holding her hand still tighter. She snatched her hand from him, and Anthony, not understanding, stared at her in surprise. Father! Dolan, who had paused as if to, speak, passed on across the garden, for he was taking a short cut. > Anthony took his companion's) hand again in a spirit of friendli-, ness and benevolence. But Pet Glynn, who, like many persons of volatile temperament, bad a hot temper, once more snatched it from him. Then, rising with a short hysterical laugh, she struck him across the face and ran into the house. Athony, confused and angry, rose, and after an undecided pause, went into the hall. He took from the rack his light overcoat and hat.

Anthony was seated at the window, intent on music placed on a brass stand, and producing earsplitting strains of a very lugubrious nature from his clarionette. The Colonel had to cough thrice, each time more loudly than the last, before he gained the perfor mer’s attention. “Oh!” Anthony then exclaimed, starting up in consternation, I didn’t know you were here. Excuse me; T didn’t see or hear you coming.” “Marcus had the trap out in this direction, and as he wished to see you, I told him ho might find you here,” said Mr. Glynn, with an affectedly casual air. “He has been very anxious to have a few words with you.” “Ah!” returned Anthony, awkwardly. He looked out of the window, and, seeing the Eosebank ecu ip age, added, “So you got your trap again all right. I’m glad. I told Minogue to take it to you early this morning, and then forgot about it.” “Yes, the trap came hack all right, thank you,” said the Cdlonel, with an air of unnatural politeness. “Minogue brought it quite early this morning. But indeed I had not missed it. and did not trouble about it at all “That has relieved my mind, said Anthony. The Colonel took a couple of short steps forward, and then, fidgeting nervously with his hat, gave a preliminary cough, and spoke with the formal manner and tone of the leader of aj deputation. “I have taken the liberty of sailing on you like tins without announcing my intention, as I have >een most anxious to have a little balk with you over since—ever since I missed you from our pleasant family party,” he said, solemnly. “When you came in Tom the garden you said something or other to me; but being perhaps pre-occupied at the moment—indeed, I am sometimes i trifle deaf in the evenings—l did not quite clearly understand. “What I said was that I was roing to borrow your trap, interrupted Anthony. “At least, that is as well as J can remember ’ “Yes, I fancy that was what you said,” returned the Colonel. And ihou* he went on. after an embarrassed pause. “But what I did not understand then, and am not yet clear about ” “Look here, this is the simple explanation of the matter,” interrupted Anthony, with characteristic straightforwardness. 1, wasn’t used to champagne, and I took- a little too much, and, being ] fully sensible of that. I borrowed vonr trap to get out of the way as iiuicklv as possible ” “Took too much champagne, said the Colonel, with polite incredulity. “Oh, nonsense—you imagined that I “Of course, you imagined that, seconded Mr. 'Glynn, strangling a smile. “As the lion of the night, vou were under the observation of

us all, and I, for my part, saw uu. the' slightest indication that ” “bo much the better —but there, let it go at that, and we’ll say no more about it,’’ returned Anthony, and then he broke into a laugh, which was echoed by his visitors. “I am very glad to hear that that was the very unsubstantia] cause of your leaving us so abrupt ly,” said' the Colonel; with a very relieved face and voice, “for .1 fancied we had offended you ir some way. And if I had bcei. guilty of that, or even in part so, 1 owed you the fullest apology, my dear fellow, after all your kindness For there is nobody, Anthony, 1 have greater esteem for. “You are too kind ever to cause me any offence, Colonel,” interrupted Anthony, quickly. And then, turning to Glynn, he went on, “If anybody gave cause for offence, it must have been 1. lor Brian, when 1 was chatting with your wife in the garden, I think I offended her in some way.” “Don’t let that trouble you,” laughed Glynn. “Pet told mo all about the matter, which was entirely her own fault. She’s a bit hasty sometimes, and on that occasion she got into a little tan- ' trum. But she’s anxious to ex- ■ plain everything to you •” “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, no! laughed Anthony. “There, let us be done with the explanations. ■ | And now sit down; you ve both been standing too long.” I The Colonel seated himself in the big well-worn armchair at the: window, and Anthony and Glynn found decrepit chairs for themselves. “What about my fellow-guests —the other members of the family?” then asked Anthony! “Have they taken up their quar- . ters in the Castle yet?” I j “They all went off there after, the dinner,” replied the Colonel, in ' a slightly embarrassed manner, j Then he looked out of the window. “I thought you could see the Castle from here.” “No, there’s a rise in the ground to the cast that cuts off i the view,” returned Anthony, j “But they went off after the' dinner, you say? That’s strange. “When Pet gets into a tantrum, she makes things a trifle uncomfortable, and —well, Costelloe and others got offended, and they all walked off to the Castle,” said Glynn, in a casual wav. “It was just as well, after all.'” “Yes, for they are very comfortable there,” said the Colonel. I ; called there yesterday, and saw to i that. Some of thorn wanted to • look for you at once, but I asked them to wait until I saw you ! But I hope you will soon settle I down in the ' Castle yourself, for you are not very' luxuriously housed here.” 1 “It is my old home,” returned Anthony, in a sentimental tone, “and, althtough I shall occupy the Castle sometimes, I shall retain j this room as long as I may. Indeed, when all is finished, I hope to get back this old place again. After a quarter of an hour of general conversation, the Colonel rose to take leave. You must come back with me,” he said. “We’ll dine together, and have a good long chat afterwards, for there are many things to be talked over.” “No thanks—not to-day,” replied Anthony, decidedly. “But if you’ll take me, I should be glad of a lift in your trap to —well, set me down near Eosebank.” “You’ll change your mind and dine with me when you get so far,” said the Colonel. A few minutes later they set off. and as the trap bowled quickly along Anthony chatted cheerfully But°he insisted on being set down where lie had indicated. “I thought you would dine with me in the end,” said the Colonel in a disappointed voice. “I am sure my wife, who expected you, will think still _ that you are offended with us.” “I shall call and pay my respects in a day or two, and reassure her then. Please tell her that,” returned Anthony, with o smile. He stood in the roadway until the trap disappeared, and then turned in the direction of Shannon View. He walked slowly, with almost a dejected air, and the cherfulness died out of his face as he neared Mr. Gegan’s cottage. Arrived there, he stood for some moments on the doorstep, as if nerving himself to knock: and when the door was opened he asked the maid if he could see Miss Gegan alone. Sadie was by herself in the drawing-room, and she rose with a pleased smile as he entered. “Poppa and I have been wonder-' in<r what had become of you,” she said, giving him her hand “It seems a long time since we saw you hast. “Only two days.” said Anthony, smiling nervously I did not think anyone would miss me in ! ;uch a short time.” “Well, where have you heejn, anv wav ” asked Sadie “At Pea field since early yester ■ lav morning, bracing myself up by solitude and penitence,” said I Anthonv. Sadie looked at bun m surprise, and noted the grave expression of his fafge. “Solitude and penitence?” she repeated. slowly. “What for?’

“That is what I have come to tell you,’ he answered, quietly, “for my penitence was on your account. ” “On my account!” Sadie’s hazel eyes opened very wide. “Yes, on your account,” repeated Anthony “Do you remember. the night before last, when I left the dining-room of Eosebank with Mrs, Olynn? I think you must, for yours was the last falee I remember seeing there.” “Yes, 1 do remember,” Suiswered Sadie, a slight shadow cross ing her face, while her voice took a different tone. “And after a time Mrs. Hlynn came in again very mad Had you two been quarrelling?” “Not exactly,” replied Anthony, awkwardly. “The fact is that I can’t recall exactly how T offended her And the reason forth at is “1 don’t want to know anything

about it, for I guess I’ve no right to.” said Sadie, in a somewhat piqued tone, as Anthony stopped short. ‘‘l came specially to tell you thf reason—if you need to be told it, returned Anthony, in a grave voice. “Did you not notice that I took a little too much charm pagne?” “NoI” faltered Sadie, flushing as she looked at him with suddenly startled eyes. ‘‘No, I did not but it is not true?” ‘‘lt is quite true,” answerer Anthony, in a hard voice. ‘ 1 had never taken champagne before in my life, and I took too mud at the Colonel’s. And realising that, I went out into the gardenin terror lest you should sec wha' had happened.” ‘Oh. Anthony!” Sadie’s voice had a ring of sorrow and disap pointment that stung her com pan ion. ‘‘Yes,” lie went on. ‘‘l took toe much drink, and afterwards —well when Mrs. Glynn and I had a tiff I took the ' Colonel’s trap anc drove off —homewards —feeling tor shamed to see you again then.” There was a short silence whih Anthony’s hands worked nervously on his" knees. Sadie, after £ pained look at him. cast down hei eyes. ‘That is what I have conn to confess tc you —in shame and sorrow.” he went on, sadly. ‘‘l confess it openly and freely, without reservation. But this I may say. that never before had I fallen into such a fault —for it is not a failing of mine—and never again will it happen. If that had been a sin oi mine, 1 would never have dared to ask the privilege of your friendship, I would not dare now to ask your forgiveness ” ‘‘Hush! You do not need to ask it. You exaggerate what was only an accident,” said Sadie, agitatedly. ‘‘You are very good and kind and indulgent to me,” said An thony, in a low and somewhat broken voice, as he rose anc looked down on the girl. ‘‘Anc because you have been all that tc me. and because, too, since first J met you, you have enshrined your self in my mind as the sweetes l and host as well as the most beau tiful woman I have ever known, ] would have you believe that my re verence for you would make am disrespect towards you the gravesof sins. And so, when I think o how I foil ” ‘‘Don’t please, don’t say am more, Anthony,” pleaded Sadie rising, and taking his hands ‘‘Don’t you know that 1 ■'understand—” Anthony bent over her, anc clasped her warm, soft hand; trembling. ‘‘Heaven bless you!’ he said, in a low, heartfelt voice. Sadie looked at him with shin ing eyes, and then turned hal away with a happy, trembling smile. Anthony gazed long at hei with wonderful relief and happiness, half spell-bound by her sofl beauty till a tress of her scentec hair touched his cheek, and lit drew back suddenly, just as the French window opened, and Mr, Began entered from the garden. ‘Hello! I’m glad to see you,’ he said to Anthony, glancing froir him to Sadie quickly with those keen eyes of Ins. “I thought you’c drop iu here after the Colonel’s dinner, when Sadie came home sc sarly. ” ‘‘She had Brendan to take hei home, had she not?” asked Anihony. “It was more an honour than £ pleasure,” said Sadie, who had regained her self-possession mort juickly and completely than An ;honv. ‘‘He was not very in ioresting.” ‘ ‘ Evidently for this younj coman actually didn’t ask him ii ,o supper, though we had a nice lablo laid, expecting you to turn ir or a chat,” said' Mr. Gegan ‘How did the historical dinner lass off? I haven’t heard a wore Font it yet.” “It was a disappointment u ome ways; hut ray distinguishec L'lations are now mostly cooper ip in the Ballyran Castle for theii loriod of probation, after aboul welvo thousand pounds has heei pent on them and their new cane. And now the race foi reatness has begun in earnest.” (To be Continued.)