LADY PAM’S BRIDGE DEBTS.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXVI, Issue 14202, 26 October 1906, Page 11

LADY PAM’S BRIDGE DEBTS.

(By MRS C. N. WILLIAMSON.) Author of “The Lightning Conductor, “ The Barn Stormcis,” etc., etc.

Jack Adriance admired Pamela Sylvain mere than any girl he had ever Been hut ho did not know her, and though he had thought of several very clever ways of making her acquaintance, so far he had never been able, as he would have said to himself, to “ bring any of them off.’' He was in.a Swiss hotel, and she was in the same house: so that, on the face of it, the matter looked simple enough ; but appearances were in this case deceptive, although Jack Ad;knee was au American, with all the fertile-minded-nesa of his countrymen. Perhaps the difficulty lay in the fact that she was not American. She w. s Lady Pamela Sylvain, and hy dint of discreet inquiries (Burke not being obtainable .at Lowenfels) and unflagging observation, Adriance had discovered a great deal that was interesting about her. , . Answers to inquiries had told him that she was the daughter of the late Earl of Revel, famous as having been the poorest peer in England; that her father had died when Lady Pamela was twelve; that she was now twenty; that she and her mother were the poor relations of a great many very distinguished, ■ but not particularly sympeople; that her relatives would doubtless suddenly remember bow pretty and sweet she was, if she happened by any extraordinary stroke of fortune to make a good marriage; that the "present Lord Revel, a distant cousin, was already very much married, thus there was nothing to hope or fear from that direction; that Pamela’s metier was saving money by paying a visit (she was said never to pay anything else) to a friend of her girlhood, who was frumpish and not in society, and could do nothing for Pamela; that no one knew why on earth Mi’s FoxLeffingwell had asked Pamela to travel with her for the summer, though everyone would very much like to know, as the lady hated girls, and there must be some reason. This was all that three old maids and one middle-aged bachelor could tell Jack Adriance. But that indefatigable observation of his put him in possession of numerous other facts. That Lady Pamela was the prettiest creature on earth; that he was not the only malebeing who thought so; that a beast, of a man, called/ Sir Thomas Pottcrson, was one of the others; that Mrs FoxLeffingwell was a great friend of Sir Thomas’s; and that between them they scarcely gave anyone else a chance to get within staring distance of Lady Pamela Sylvain. Sir Thomas was very rich. If be had not been he would not have been called Sir Thomas, for; there was the tache of a ready-made clothing business upon him, which had had to be erased as iar as possible by an application of a huhdred thousand charity dinner turkeys and a huge cheque for a hospital. Mrs Fox-Leffingwell was youngish, and was still living on the reputation of great beauty, which now was perhaps only paint deep, but kept her smart and popular. After Cowes was over, she usually disappeared , for a month and buried herself in the youthrenewing mud of some German Bad, to appear again in Scotland invigorated and ready for conquests; but it was August, and here she was at Lowenfels, where hardly anybody in her set ever came—quite a tourist’s place—and she was chaperoning a girl for the first time in her life. Jack Adriance was “doing Europe.” He was too young, and too good-look-ing, people thought, to be an American millionaire. He had no motor-car, no airs, no valet, and did not appear even, to have dyspepsia, so his fellow guests in the best hotel of Lowenfels allowed him to - amuse himself as he. pleased without bothering themselves about him; and it amused him to watch Lady Pamela Sylvain. At least, it amused him at first; but very soon it passed beyond . that stage. He thought of Pamela continually, and ryondered how .everything was going to end. Mrs Fox-Leffingwell made a point of not knowing anyone stopping in her hotel, or any other hotel (except Sir Thomas Potterson, and that was different, because they were evidently old friends), so that it seemed impossible for Adriance to be properly introduced ; and Pamela never • dropped her handkerchief or her book, or needed to have her life saved. For a time Adriance hoped that Sir Thomas Potterson had come to Lowenfels for Mrs Fox-Leffingwell. They walked up and down the wide hotel balcony in the moonlight together for several evenings running, after his arrival, talking in low voices and looking as if the world outside had no existence for them. Meanwhile, Pamela read a novel in Mrs Fox-Leffingwell’s private sitting-room, where she could be seen dimly behind the.thin_ curtains and between half-closed persiennes. But on the third evening Adriance was smoking in an arbour which commanded a glorious view of lake and snow mountains, and was called the Minnie Haukrube. Even there he was thinking about Lady Pamela, and how it would be possible to meet her in a way not too appallingly unconventional, when suddenly he heard her name spoken. “ I say, Lady Pam, you’re the hardest girl to get on with I ever saw,” remarked a man’s voice just outside the arbour. “Isn’t she, Mrs Left?” There was something in the ton© which made Jack Adriano© understand all at once that it was not for “Mrs Leff” that Potterson had come to Switzerland. He would have liked very .much to stay where he was; but, - of jourse, he got up i and walked out of ;h©/Minnie Haukruhe at once. In the path were Sir Thomas Potterson, and Mrs Fox-Leffingwell with .Lady Pamela Sylvain. As he passed, throwing away his cigarette, the girl looked up at him in the moonlight. It was rather an impersonal sort of glance, but there was an appeal in it, the wistful, almost unconscious appeal of lonely and helpless girlhood to something strong, which might be kind. She did not know what was in her eyes. Jack was sure, but he was instantly aware that she was not happy. “ Perhaps she’s homesick, poor child,” he thought; but if he could believe gossip she had no home, and her mother was not the sort of woman for whom a young girl would yearn with heartburnings. He began to feel from this moment ■that—as he expressed it—there -was “ a game of some sort on between these two.” “ These two” were Sir Thomas Potterson and Mrs Fox-Leffiiigwell; end the more Jack saw of the party, the more he grew convinced that the woman had invited Lady Pamela_ Sylvain to visit her at Lowenfels with a special object. After the two or three evenings of promenades on the balcony Mrs FoxLeffingwell changed her tactics. She did everything to throw the man and the girl together, and clearly she was not the sort of person to give up for .unselfish reasons a valuable admirer. She was a widow; therefore marriageable; she was extravagant, and the thousand or two a year with which she .was credited would weigh next to nothing in the scales of her expenditure; therefore if the millionaire bad 'been within her own reach she would not have deliberately handed him over to a younger and prettier woman. * In Jack Adriance’s mind a definite theory took form, founded on the steely glitter in Mrs Fox-Leffingwell’s blue eyes, the hard lines round her Cupid’s bow mouth, and the quick frown of her dark brows whenever Lady Pamela «nubbed Sir Thomas. The young man believed that “Mrs

Leff ” had been particularly hard up, "and that the millionaire had offered to help her out of her difficulties if she gave him a chance to win this beautiful and high-bred girl, whose husband —whatever his own antecedents —would be connected with some of the best families in England. Pamela 83dvain, if she were nothing but herself, would be a bride for any man to be proud of, Jack thought; but the daughter of an Earl, too poor to choose as she would, was exactly the sort of wife a coarse-minded, ambitious parvenu like the retired clothes merchant would be likely to look for. He must know that he was physically unattractive, that he had an unconquerably swaggering manner, that in moments of excitement his “ h s trembled on their pedestal; and that it would take all his money to sweeten him as a dose in the mouth of such a girl as Pamela. His success would depend, he'must see, and Jack could not help knowing, on the girl’s bringing up and disposition. If she loved the good things of the world better than she loved the real things of life, she would accent him by and by, and perhaps be consented. But Jack Adriance, standing afar off, and watching the game in which be had no chance to take a hand, felt it would be unbearable to him if he had to see it end in that way. , For come da vs “Lady Pam as ho hated to hear Potterson call her—was apparently amenable to the plans being made for ‘her. She plavcd croquet with Sir Thomas, sat with him on the balcony after lunch,’ when Mrs Fox-Lef-fingwell had excused herself, and even drove with him once or twice in his automobile. “She’s going to do 1 , \ Jack said gloomily to himself. that beast!” . , . But one evening Lady Pam did not come to dinner. Jack Adriance, at his little table not far from Mrs Fox-Leffingwelrs, in the great white dining-room, saw the lady raise her eyebrows and shrug her shoulders ever so slightly to Potterson, at a distance, then saw Potterson rise from his table and go to here. A place was laid for him there, and he and “Mrs Leff” talked earnestly to each other. . , . ~ „ She appeared to be asking qucstionJ, which the big man answered sulkily ; after which, it seemed, or. Jack imagined it, that she was attempting consolation. Then it was the man s turn to ask questions, the woman s to answer, but she was gay and sportive, not sulky. . ~ The next day Sir Thomas? Potterson drove away in his motor-car, and did not return to dinner. Whether it was because of his absence, or for some other/reason, instead of going to her private sitting-room, as she usually did after taking coffee 011 the balcony, Mrs Fox-Leffingwell remained there. It was a wide balcony; nevertheless, as Jack Adriance paced up and down with a cigarette, he could hear snatches of conversation while passing the various groups of hotel guests. He heard Lady Pam ask Mrs Fox-Leffing-well if she might not go in and finish her book; he heard the elder woman bog her to remain; and, coming back to their side of the balcony after a stroll, he was surprised to see Mrs FoxLeffingwell chatting very pleasantly with two ladies who, for ten days, had been visibly and vainly dying to know He had curiosity enough to wish that he had: been near to see how the acquaintance had come about; but he had stopped to speak with a man he knew slightly, and had been out of the way perhaps for half an hour. By the time that he had appeared on the scene again the- friendship had progressed far enough for talk of bridge, and Mrs Fox-Leffingwell was saying that she missed her favourite pastime dreadfully. “ Lady Pamela and I are so bored,” she remarked. “But I don’t play bridge. Lady Pam retorted. “ We will teach you—won’t we?” returned Mrs Leff. , When Jack made his next round they had all vanished, and a bright- _ light streaming through the lace curtains of .Mrs Fox-Leffingwell’s private sittingroom suggested that the two “ climbers” had been raised to the seventh heaven hy an invitation , to an impromptu ‘bridge party in distinguished society. Jack, as it happened, had been nice to the elder and less interesting of the pair, and now his quick eye saw a chance for virtue’s reward. She might introduce him to Lady Pam. Several days passed, however, before, he found an opportunity of inducing the lady to do so (it cost him a large bunch of roses, a box of chocolates, fpnr volumes of Tauchnitz). but time Sir Thomas Potterson and bis motorcar had been missing, and Jack's mind had been, comparatively at ease. It was after the gift of the two latest Tauchnitz that Mies Benson said, “Perhaps I, could introduce you to Mrs Fox-Leffingwell and that sweet little Lady Pamela if you are fairly decent at bridge. You see, my friend, Miss Miller, is going away, and dear Mrs Fox-Leffingwell is so wedded to the game that I dare eay ehe’ 11 be gta-cl or another hand.” ■ So it had been, bridge, Jack said , to himself. He could play well enough, though he liked poker better; but when ho had been introduced to Mrs ’FoxLeffingwell on the balcony where she and Lady Pam were haying ioed coffee, he could accept an invitation to play after dinner, without fear that he would be disgraced in the eyes of the divinity. Lady Pam paid attention to him at first, though Jie was a very good-looking young man, of a type quite equal to the Gibson. But he was her partner that flight, and as they lost a good deal, their misfortunes drew them together. Lady Pam gave Jack several glances, which, though merely expressive of an innocent fellowfeeling, almost made the young man lose his head as well as his money. The next afternoon Sir Thomas came hack, and not only was there no more bridge, but Mrs Fox-Leffingwell seemed somewhat inclined to forget the existence of the other players. Her bow to poor Miss Benson and Jack Adriance on the way to lunch, might better have been no bow at all. She even got between him and Pamela, so that the girl could not see him as they passed. “ \V© were stop-gaps,” Adriance said to himself, angrily. “ But I’m not going to bo thrown .over tliat way, like a used glove.” There was a pine forest behind the hotel, which commanded a glorious view and was provided with several seats and summer-houses: but as a steep hill must be climbed to reach it, very’ few people went there. It seemed to Jack that the music of the wind among the trees would suit his mood that day, and after luncheon, when almost everyone else was taking a siesta or reading a novel,, he strode up to the woods, making vaguely furious plans for the punishment of Mrs FoxLeffingwell. He had visited the place two or three times before, and remembered a rustic summerhouse, walled in by great pine trees, and almost overhanging the edge of a cliff. If he chose td “grizzle” for half an hour in that seclusion ho told himself that he could do so undisturbed. One climbed a curious knoll, and then descended suddenly upon the summerhquso. Jack plunged in, down a narrow path slippery with pine needles, and. came face to face with Lady Pam. If only she had been looking at the view, sire would have had her back to him as he entered, and then he would not have known that she was crying. But she was past caring for views, and was making use of the summerhouse as a refuge. She had her head on her arms, flung out across. the rickety rustic table, .and was sobbing more woefully than the wind among the pines. If it had been any other girl, prob-ably-Jack Adriance would, have gone

out again, faster tban ho came in, but this girl’s grief whs iuot-o to him cru-ui the united wailing of all the °^ l ® r women on earth would have been. © could not endure to go quietly out and leave her to bear it alone. How thankful he was now that, at least in a suit of way, he knew her! “ \Vlrv—Lady Pamela,” he stammered, “Do forgive me. But—can tt do something?” , ~ , t,„ IV Tho girl looked up, startled, nei cheeks flushed, her beautiful auburn hair tumbled. “No—no, thank ymi, she choked, trying to be polite. ft s nothing. Please go.” “ I can’t, I simply can’t, he said, standing still in the doorway. here, Lady Pamela, don’t think me a presumptuous beast lor staying hei e when you tell mo to go. But you know it isn’t as if I were a stranger. “ I’ve only known you since yesterday,” murmured tho girl, trying to drv her eyes with a soaked handkei- “ But I’ve known you for a fortnight —over since I’ve been here; and there hasn’t been a day when I wouldn t have? given all I had just to meet you. But I won’t talk of that. Its got nothing to do with this. Lady iamela, perhaps w© Americans are made differently from other men. • I don t know; but I do knew wo just can t see a woman cry without wanting to cut off our right hands to help her. She promptly began to cry again, and hid her face, which gave Jack courage. ~ “ Perhaps 1 could help, you know, he went on. “I guess you’re alone here, aren’t you, except for your friend Mrs Fox-Leffingwell and ” • “ My friend !” Lady Pam echoed bitterly. And Jack caught at the cue. “■Well, you might let me bo your friend, then. Girls always let us be their friends in .our country. Has anybody been treating you badly? Because if they have ” _ “No,” she broke in, with a little miserable, babyish gurgle. “ I’ve been dreadfully foolish, and I’ve got to pay for it, that’s all. Oh—oh, such a price!” , “You shan’t pay!” exclaimed Jack, almost fiercely. She looked up, surprised, her grey eyes swimming. “ Oh, but I shall have to—somehow’. It’s a debt of honour.” She would have snatched back her own impulsive answer if she could, but Adriance was too quick for her, and bis mind leaped ahead of his word®. “ Is it bridge?” he asked. “ You—you have no right,” she began, miserably; but he cut her short. “ I have a right, because you’re a young girl, and I’m a man, and can t stand by to see you—cheated.” “There’s no question of cheating. But —oh, well, since you are so kind, and take an interest, I—l wonder if it wmuld bo very bad for me to talk to. you about it, and ask your advice? You see, I’ve nobody else. And —and Americans are different, aren’t they? I’ve always heard they are.” “Of course we are,” said Jack, stoutly. “Well, Mrs Fox-Leffingwell has been teaching me to play bridge the last few days. I’d never played before. Mother hadn’t cared for me to learn. And oh, I’ve lost such a lot of money. I didn’t realise how much till to-day. And I thought at least she would give me time. There’s a little jewellery I could sell. That would go_ towards it. And I might have saved it somehow. But she says debt® like this must be paid at once, and she can’t wait, because she is hard up. And if I don’t pay she’ll ’ telegraph' to my mother. Oh, it’s all so dreadful. It’s like a bad dream. But I can’t wake up.” “ It’s only a bad dream, and you will wake up,” said Jack,, carefully feeling his way. “ You ” “ I shall wake to worse things.” “What do you mean?” “ Oh, I oughtn’t to tell you. But—hut it’s the only way out of it, and that seems the worst of all. I can’t tell you what it is.” “You don’t need to tell me,” said Jack, with a sudden flash of enlightenment. “ I see the whole game. It’s Potterson. Potterson wants to pay for you.” “ He wants to marry me,” amended Pamela, somewhat indignantly. “ Of course. Who wouldn’t? I mean—the whole thing is a—what ere calls a ‘ put up job.’ They’ve arranged it between them, Mrs Fox-Leffingwell and Potterson.” “Oh, how dreadful! If I thought so, I—l’d run away from Mrs FaxLeflingwell this very minute. But - I’m afraid I oughtn’t to be talking to you of such things.” “I’m sure you ought; I shouldn’t wonder if I’d been created for this very purpose, and nothing else. It would be quite worth while to have been born for it—if I can help you. And I know I can, if you’ll be kind, and let me.” “Would you call that being kind? Only I don’t see how you could help me.” “I do. Lots of ways.” “ Oh, I hope yon’r© not going to offer —I can’t even say it. That would spoil everything, in a moment.” “ I know what you’re thinking about, of course. No, I won’t offer tliat. There are other means." “ I can’t see them. Everything is black before my eyes.” “ Everything is red before mine, when I think of—Potterson. You veil, trust mo, and let me be your friend, won’t you? You see, knowing peop.e doesn’t depend on how long you were introduced.” “ No, I suppose not. That was early Victorian. Ido trust you. There’s something about you—so dependable, 1 can’t help it.” “Thank you. That’s the best compliment I ever had. Now, will you answer me a few questions, and believe that I don’t ask ’em because I’m curious or pushing, but because I want to know just how to work at—perhaps—blocking somebody’s game.” She nodded, smiling faintly. And her faintest smile had a hint of dimples in it. “ Mrs Fox-Leffingwell has thrown you a good deal with Sir Thomas, hasn’t she?” “Yes.” “ She wanted to give him a chance with you.” “ Perhaps. She seems to like him. She was always saying nice things to me about him.” “And she was angry when you refused him?” “ Oh, how did you know he had—that I ” “I guessed.”

“ Well, she thought I was very stupid, and tried to persuade me, but I said I couldn’t do it. I’d rather be a governess or—anything.” , “ Then ho Went away, as a part of the game, to make himself of more importance when he cam© back; and she picked up some people, and you played bridge. And Mrs Fox-Leffingwell has let you in for a lot of money. And you don’t see how you can pay; and now Sir Thomas has appeared, and proposed again, and ” “Yes. That’s exactly how everything happened.” “ Well, if 3 r ou’ll excuse my saying so, I believe the whole business was planned, and Mrs Fox-Leffingwell has been paid, and will be paid more if she can bring this thing off. I wouldn’t shock you by 7 making such an accusation against a person once a friend of yours, if I didn’t want you to see that these people aren’t playing fair. They deserve anything. That’s to begin

with; what comes next is to get you out of tho scrape.” “ Oh, but how is it to be done, unless I promise to mar ” ; “Just sit tight and watch me do it all, if .you please, Lady Pamela.” She asked no more questions, hutdried her eyes, shook hands with her champion, and thought about him constantly. Though she obeyed his directions and watched, nothing much seemed to happen, except that the rumour began to run round the hotel that tho young American who seemed so unassuming was a millionaire after all. Pam wondered if the rumour were part of tho plot; for he seemed much too nice to be a real millionaire.

But Mrs Fox-Leffingwell remained blissfully ignorant that there was a plot; therefore she had no difficulty in believing the rumour; and decided (though ho was no longer wanted to take a hand at bridge) that she would not drop Mr Adriance, after all; if be -were rich, thpro was no knowing when ho might not be useful. Therefore, when he proposed teaching her his national game of poker, she accepted with pretty enthusiasm. They played, and she was so lucky that she loved tho game. She often held threes, flushes and fours; when there was a Jock-pot she was almost sure to win it. But just at this point Fortune turn cd, not a cold shoulder, but an uncom promising back. . Before she knew “ where she was,” Mrs Fox-Leffingwell owed Mr Jack Adriance two hundred pounds. What to do she did not know. Pam had not- yet- been forced into accepting Sir Thomas Potterson, by way of paying her bridge debts (though her decision could not bo postponed for long) ; therefore, until all was settled, the man would neither give more nor lend. Ho was hard as nails. So Mrs Fox-Loffing-well laughed, and said to Jack Adrianco, “What a good thing for me that I was just learning—that w© weren’t playing for money.” “ But you took mine this afternoon,” said he. “That—that was different,” “Mrs Leff ” brazened it out. “ I don’t ese it. I’m afraid you’ll have to pay, Mrs Fox-Leffingwell.” “ What nonsense! I toll’you we were p'laying for chips.” “Those chips may prove expensive.” “What do you mean?” “ I mean that if you don’t pay me, I shall make things disagreeable for 3 7 0 u. 1 can, you know. In a few days I’m due at the Duke of Northmoorland’s place in Dumbartonshire .” “ What, you know them!” “The Duke and Duchess visited me at Newport.” “ You wouldn’t injure a woman.” “‘You don't mind injuring a young girl.” “ Pam has ” “Told me nothing. I guessed. Tell her you were only joking about tho money, send Sir Thomas Potterson about his business —j'ou see, I’ve guessed that too—and this evening’s wiped off the slate. Otherwise . ■ “ You are cruel.” “ Anyhoiv, I’m obstinate. Tho Duchess hates ” “Oh, Pam shall know I was only joking.'' _ In Mrs Fox-Leffingwell’s opinion, Jack Adriance was a blackmailer. In Lady Pamela Sylvain’s, he was a knight of chivalry—almost uncomfortably chivalrous, indeed, for he did nob propose until lie was as certain as a man can ever be of such matters that there was no danger the girl would accept him out of sheer gratitude. Ho w r as in doubt about this for so long, that poor Pam grew pale and thin; for it was not until she had been at home with her mother some time that ho daredi to speak. But then, it came right iu the end, even with Lady Revel; for he did not need to play poker for a living. In spite of his youth, his good looks, and his good health, ho was a real millionaire. ,His wife, if she wished, oould play bridge for five guinea points and Ices ©very day if she liked; but for some reason or other Lady Pamela Adriance has never been fond of bridge.