THE SHILLING.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXVII, Issue 17077, 28 January 1916, Page 3

THE SHILLING.

(By FREDERICK H. WHITEHORN.)

•j, [All Rights Reserved."]

The Kclston bridge parties were always Jolly affairs, and the thought of the pleasant evening in store for him brought a smile to Monty Carroll's face a? ho finished dressing. He sat down to his solitary meal, and \ras leisurely drinking his soup when a maid entered with a telegram. Monty frowned. Ho disliked telegrams, and this particular .specimen looked no more inviting than usual. He slit it open, and read: "Much regret party postponed through sickness.—Kelston." Monty muttered a few words suitable to the occasion, andwatched the arrival of the turbot"without interest. After a few minutes he had recovered sufficiently to reflect that at any rate something had to be done with the evening, and managed to recollect the name of a play on which »a friend of his had pronounced enthusiastic judgment. JHe strolled over to the telephone and rang up the box-office of the theatre.

Yea, a courteous person at the other end of the wire informed him, there was still a seat available for that evening, but In the dress circle only. Would ho care to book it? Monty did care, and then strolled back to his entree with a relieved expression. • Having rewarded according to his deserts an over-zealous taxi-driver who landed him at the theatre before the curtain-raiser was half over, Monty paid for his ticket and proceeded leisurely towards his seat. Taking no interest in the now moribund curtainraiser, he adjusted his opera-glasses and peered carefully round the theatre in search of thrills. He mot none, and, closing the glasses with a sigh, resigned himself to a casual 6tudy of the programme of the play. The curtain-raiser expired amidst feeble applause from the audience and hearty clapping on tho part of Monty. Ho adjusted his glasses again, and was preparing for a fresh onslaught when the curtain at the entrance of the circle suddenly parted, disclosing a double apparition, which- mado him first gasp and then hurriedly catch his breath. The. first-corner was a duenna of unusually dour a,nd forbidding aspect, while the second was a young lady whose .appearance Monty could afterwards only describe as being " absolutely It!" The programme-girl conducted the pair to their seats, which were situated in the row in .front of Monty's, and a little to his left. Monty's heart beat wildly as he took in the fact that from his coign of vantage he could dwell longingly on a matchless view of the young lady's profile. Also, of-course, of her companjon.'s, if ho so wished. I Monty hurriedly scanned his watch. Only a bare four minutes, and the curtain would go up and the lights go down, leaving his divinity in dusky scurity; then let him not waste one moment of his time. He fixed an ardent gaze on the lady, who was consulting her programme and chatting a little to her companion the while. Then she looked up, and began idly scanning the occupants- of the circle , Monty felt a sudden pang of delight i as her glance rested for a fraetion of: a second on him. . But it was gone as soon as it came, and he was reflecting, that hardly a minute of Jight remained, when the lady slowly turnedh er head in his direction again, and—oh, wonder I—she smiled. And be- ; fore his paralysed wits could assert !

themselves the opportunity had vanished. Then tho curtain rose. Before five minutes had passed Monty had decided that under no circumstances would he mention his- visit to the theatre to his enthusiastic friend, for it was already apparent to him that at the end of the evening his notion of the play would not be exactly conspicuously clear. How was it to be expected that he. should devoto his attention to a more plot when ho had the opportunity of gazing at the lovoliast face in London, even if it were a somewhat hazy view? He watched her steadily, and once—but there, he could not be quite cure —he thought that her head turned in his direction again. Perhaps ho was mistaken, for a moment later ho saw her whispering to the duenna at her side. Then a thought struck him which decidely definitely that this play could be of no ordinary merit, for he remembered seeing on the programme that it contained four acts—which meant three intervals of perfect opportunity for feasting his gaze on that glorious face—instead of tho more customary three. Perhaps on account of the singleness of his occupation, the first act did not seem unnecessarily protracted to Monty, and presently the curtain fell to the accompaniment of a rather inspiriting round of applause, in which he joined, for ho had no wish to be thought un-

responsive to the appeal of what might after all be quite a decent play. Rut now he was a-quiver with expectant attention, and was rewarded almost as 3uickly as even he could wish. Tho dour uenn'a fell to studying the programme as soon ,as she had finished her clapping, and her fair charge took the opportunity to turn her head towards Monty. She met a gaze of adoration so ardent that it forced her to lower her eyes with an expression of admirably restrained embarrassment. Monty felt as if a draught of the very driest champagne had permeated his system: even his finger-tips tingled. She had looked at him of her own accord this time! He breathed deeply, 'tasting the subtle flavour of conquest. Surely there could be no obstacle now. But the minutes went by, aud the lady made no further sign; she was busily chatting to the dowager, and ap-

parently quite oblivious of Monty's existence. He began to fidget in his seat, and then examined his watch; onlv two minutes of the interval remained. Surely she would not allow the darkness to descend again with-

out just one. ravishing glance. He waited on, gazing intently at the nape of her neck, with its clustering curls, but the.rising curtain'found the lady still immersed in her .conversation. Her inexplicable abstention had by this time induced ?.zi unconquerable restlessness in Monty; he stared fixedly, at her for long periods, hoping miserably for some sign, and even going the length, of turning his eyes upon the acting during the moments of acutest depression. But everything seemed to drag along interminably. It was his private opinion afterwards that the play must have been extraordinary, for he was ready to swear that the second art occupied fully four times tho length of the first I

When the curtain fell again Monty had reached the stage of determining that if the lady continued to- ignore his presence he would not go on sitting there like a fool while all fensible fel-

lows wera paying a visit to the bar. But Fortune" had not so entirely deserted him that he had to put this drastic decision into practice, for the applause had barely subsided when the lady, perhaps fearing the effect of her lengthy abstention, turned her gaze full upon Monty and bestowed on him a brilliant smile. The consequent revulsion of feeling almost staggered the young man, but thw time he had presence of mind enough to return the

smile with interest. Again the lady was forced to lower her eyes and seek refuge in her programme, but it was only a few moments beforo her shapely head moved slowly in Monty's direction and their looks met. Monty began to breathe easily with a feeling of immense relief; it was evident that the climax had passed. Until the middle of the last act Monty leant back comfortably in his scat, entirely at peace with the world; while the lights wero up he basked in | tho sun of his divinity's smile, and whilo the play was in progress tho imago of her face kept his thoughts in tho pleasantest of paths. But he began to reflect that it was essential that their acquaintance should not remain stationary, and for tho life of him ho could not see how he could surmount the difficulty of that ugly old dowager. Confound her I It occurred to him that he might go boldly up to the girl as if ho were an old acquaintance, trusting to her wit in grasping the situation sufficiently to introduce him. to her companion under some name or other; but tho risk of bungling made him quail as ho thought of the duenna's consequent frozen stare. Then, striking a fresh idea, he hastily searched his pockets; not a vestige of paper of any sort, not even a visiting-card, could he find. What a forgetful ass he was I The situation looked' black, for, rack his brqin as he would, bo bad reached

no solution of the difficulty when the curtain fell on the close of "the play. In a torment of uncertainty Monty hastily donned his hat and coat, watching the movements of the two ladies the while. Ho saw them adjust their cloaks and begin to make slowly towards the exit, and as he followed cautiously the girl glanced for a moment in his direction. Tho look cheered him, but it scarcely helped him to see any hopo in the situation. Ho wedged his way through the stream, of people until only a tew feet separated him from his quarry, and then, after a minute's delay, a master effort brought him immedi itcly behind her, a little to the side. His pulses trembled at tho near vie v of tho glorious fairness of her skin, and he was thinking wildly that ho simply must speak to her, when suddenly he felt the touch of soft lingers against his, and something thin and hard lay resting in his .palm. A few moments later the exit was passed, and the lady and' her companion were swallowed up in the converging streams of playgoers. Monty followed as rapidly as possible, gazing eagerly at the faces round him, but his search was fruitless until, as he passed out of the theatre, he caught a glimpse of the gild in a motor-car which was already moving, away. Monty stepped mechanically towards a. waiting taxi-cab, and directed the driver to his flat in Bloomsbury. Hr> thoughts were in such an amazing whirl that for several minutes he sat motionless, staring straight before him with unseeing eyes. Tberi suddenly tho recollection of the touch of those delicate fingers came into his palm. Quickly he unclenched his fingers and looked. It was a shilling that he held in his hand. The shock surprised Monty into giving vont to a terse exclamation. A shilling ! , Why on earth should she have given him a shilling—the, price of a cab fare—as ho could not help reflecting? What, extraordinary creatures women were I A very ordinary-looking coin it was, too; not even a bright new one. He began to feel irritated. Was it really a keepsak;, or had she been playing the fool with him—making him the butt of some idiotic jest? The blood flowed to his face.as the suggestion came to him that ho had spent *| his evening solely to make sport for |j i girl whoso idea of humour was, to say j» the least of it, saturated with exceed- | ingly bad taste. But further reflection \ ;oothcd his ruffled sensibilities, and vin- | :licatod the lady's cause.' It was un- | thinkable, he declared finally to him- \

self, that such an adorable creature, his absolute ideal of beauty and refinement, could have, been guilty of a deliberate lapse from even the conventional canons of courtesy. He reached his flat and let himself in. Pausing only to light a cigarette, he made himself comfortable in a big chair, find began to muse upon the events of the evening. How* vividly he could recall her every gesture, every detail of her face and hair, even the texture of the laco upon her dress! Ho "took out the coin, she had given him, balancing it lightly between his fingers. Surely it could, after all, be no ordinary shilling that had come to him with such a delicious suggestion of romance? . It wasn*t. As he turned over tne coin and examined it more closely,

some marks scratched upon the surlace caught his eye. Quickly he held the shilling up to the light. Yes, there was no mistake about 'it. 0 they were definite characters. He read them jiloud. Z 3009. He slowly repeated the process. What on earth was Z 3009? Evidently, he reflected, the characters must mean something; but had they any connection with the girl, or was the coin already marked when it had come into her possession? It was most extraordinary. Cudgel his brains as he would, he could read no significance into the figures. Certainly he had never seen them before. He

studied the .shilling again: and again, thinking hard for half an hour; at the end of that time he rose with a bewildered expression; the image of the characters was so 'impressed upon his mind that he began to think he must have known them all his life! Anyhow, the mystery gave a piquant touch to his recollection of the tremulous rapture of the evening; but what a howling shame it was, he reflected sadly, that there was no apparent prospect of his seeing that perfect face again. Two mornings later ho rose from a troubled sleep feeling a little cheered by the determination, which had gradually built itself up in. his mind, that at any cost ho must trace the elusive la.dy of the theatre. He picked up his usual newspaper and sat down to breaklast with a fair appetite, reflecting that even in London it ought not to •j j OO diffici,lt to' find ,a person provided one went the right way about it. He was scanning the advertisements rapidly when some characters caught his eye, causing him to sit back suddenly in j ns cna j f wit j, a g j loUt 0 f W- Yes; there it was, in the Ter■sonal column. Z 3009 ! wr«l" J w ! ' dv ' c, '' tisen ' <, ' llt ran thus: "Z •suw, hast End Serpentine 11.30 Thursday 'f still anxious. Circle." It was some minutes before Montv »ad recovered' sufficiently to continue his breakfast. Thursday'! Whv, that was to-day! He looked at his "watch, ton already ! Ho would have to c-ustlo—:£ he decided that he was still anxious! He laughed aloud' at the joke and rap j d j v despatched the remainder of his food. Selecting a tie with extreme care, ho adjusted it fairly satisfactorily at the eighth attempt, and managed to complete his toilet in something less than an hour. Now for conquest! •

He jumped into a taxi, and tipped the driver handsomely for a quick passage to the park. When he reached the end of the lake, he pulled out his watch. He was rather shocked to find that it was only a quarter past eleven. After peering carefully round to> make sure that the lady had' not provided a coincidence by an early arrival, he booked a chair for the day by the outlay of a penny, and lit a cigarette with j nervous fingers. His impatience be-' came feverish as twenty minutes pass- I ed without a sign of the JadV. Surely, | surely she would not fail him now? j A neighbouring clock had just : boomed three-quarters when Monty's j heart leaped suddenly in his breast as) he caught sight of a solitary figure approaching along the path a hundred yards away. Surely none but his divinity could' sweep the ground with such a "perfect rhythmic motion. lie j waited a few moments for safety's sake, and then rose from his chair and advanced quickly towards her, raising his hat as she came near. He greeted her warmly; she looked up at him with a pleased smile as he. pressed her hand. "I'm so glad you've come." he said ■, ardently, walking on with her. Her eyelids drooped as she answered % little breathlessly: "Isn't it a per'cct morning? I couldn't get away be'ore. Have I kept you waiting?" j

Monty's eyes looked keen reproach | at the implication, but her expression was so titterly guileless that he softened' at once. " That's all right," he said. "Shall we sib down?" He saved a penny by noticing that his own chair was still vacant; fortunately, too, it stood with one compajiion upon an island site. What a pleasant sense of proprietorship it gave him when the collector approached, on the instant that the chairs were occu-

; pied! > Monty had delivered himself of sev 1 eral brilliant remarks on current topic ■ when the girl, who had been fumbling ; with her glove, looked' up at him an< said quietly: "What do you think o: me for meeting you in this way?" The question took Monty so entireh by surprise that he coloured, and coulc only stammer awkwardly: "Nothing. I —'er—mean w-what harm could anyone possibly see in it?" ' The girl, sighed. "I'm sure yon must think me bnld'er than a nice girl ought to be," she said sadly. "I felt so wretched after I had inserted the advertisement that I made up my mind to go no farther, but when this morning caino I could not bear that you should think "I had been only playing a mean kind of trick. But if you realised the yearning a girl must feel for a friend of her own age when she has been brought up in dreary seclusion-, with no intimaTe>< but. old, narrow, crusty people, perhaps you would understand something of my " Her bosom began to heave visibly under the strain. Hut Monty was by this time in posI session of his cue, and even ventured to lay a reassuring touch for a moment on her sleeve. " I can't bear that you should reproach yourself in this way." he said in tones that trembled with sympathy. " You've done , absolutely nothing that anyone could ! take objection to. I shouldn't mind it in my o^' n sister," he declared valiantly. ' „ '■ .".You hava a sister., then?" asked' tne jriri in a more natural tone. j "Well- n-no," confessed Monty, taken aback. "But you see what I There was silence between them for some minutes; Monty, rather at a loss for an opening, not that he was ticularly reserved in temperament, but luciuse ordinary remarks seemed almost out of place with this curious

I creature It was sli-e who presently spoke. '•' What did you think of the play on Tuesday?" she asked, as if anxious for his opinion. "Very good indeed,", ho said instantly and emphatically. The ffi7-1 glanced at him for the. fraction of a t.econd. "I'm so glad you agree with me," she said in a cordial tone. "I .thought it was just lovely. But I was %'ithcr disappointed in one part. Don't you think Sir Hilary ought to have forgiven his daughter for taking tho money, instead of turning her out of the house?" Monty's self-possession was marvellous. "Certainly he ought," he said decisively. "1 think stern, unyielding parents like that are an absolute abomination \" The girl put her handkerchief to her mouth to stifle a curious kind of cough, but the attack soon passed, and for tho ensuing half-hour she chattered vivaciously, displaying a, wit wliicfi Monty thought must surely have been unique in such a charmingly young, inexperienced girl. The time passed for him like a- hazy, rapturous dream ; the

uiiung f.\[/ruasiuiia niiii.il |jiu,\eu »i> fasciimtingly over her face forged the last link in the chain of his enslavement, and he was amazed when at last sho rose and said half-reluctantly : "I'm afraid I must go now." Monty pulled himself together. " Notbefore you've told me when and where we shall meet again," ho said boldly. " Why not here at the same time tomorrow?" The girl smiled at his eagerness. "Well. I think nerhnns I r,in. G'rinrl-

bye. . . . No, you mustn't see me any part of the way homo." Monty pressed 'her hand warmly, murmuring soft words. She bade him farewell again, and, as she turned to go, looked up at him with a roguish smile and said: " Are you sure about" Sir Hilary?"

I Tho next morning passed for Monty | in a rapture only clouded by the wist- : Jul, half-anxious expressions which at j times crept into his companion's oyes. Doubtful of his ground. -Monty nevertheless ventured to inquire whether any circumstance troubled her, but her evasive answer left him where he stood.. He walked homewards in a thoughtful mood, convinced that some secret worry assailed her, and saddened by his evident inability to remove it. • When she met him again several mornings later his guess received confirmation. She was paler than usual, and talked rostrainedly,' with a. complete absence of the pretty smile. Af- ■ tor a time Monty could bear it no , longer. j " There is something troubling you," ! he burst out. "Tell mo what it is; le't me help you. I'm sure I can if; ' you'll tell me." I Tho girl shook her head, with a grateful look " I'm sorry," she said J slowly. " I couldn't spoil our friendship by trespassing on -"; J - But the look had intoxicated Monty. | * "Come, you must!" r>e said almost'. roughly, grasping her wrist. "Now, . what is it?" * The girl sighed. " It's about some e shares," jshe muttered reluctantly, o "Mother's whole income corner from I shares in a. company which my father v was largely interested in. The company has always done well since he left them to us. 1 don't understand ], it very well, but mother says times p have been so bad lately that although 0 tho company is sound, they've had to call up more money on the shares, k And v>a can't meet it-" ' b

self upon 1 is knowledge of finance, and that what the girl had said about it was strictly true. Even the soundest concerns may get into low water when' money is abnormally tight. Monty turned to the girl, who had risen. "You're not to worry about that," ho said. ''l'll advance whatever yon want. How much is it?" But the girl shook her head. "Thank you so much,' 5 she said slowly. " I'm afraid I couldn't tcke it." The unexpected refusal surprised Monty into speaking his mind freely. " Whatever do vou moan?" he asked warmly. "Isn't it the essence of i friendship that people should help one another' when necessary? Now then, are we friends or pre we not!"' The girl looked doubtfully at him. ' Can't, wo bo friends except on those termsi" she asked timidly. "Certainly, not. Now then, how much may I lend you? Two hundred —three hundred?" "A hundred and fifty would be ample. Gh, how different you are to " Monty cut her short. "'Come along, then. We'll go down to the bank at once.'' The walk across the Park had never seemed so delightful to .Monty as on that morning of early summer. The natural elasticity of the girl's spirits soon asserte'd itself, and in a few minutes she was chattering as gaily and inconsequent]}- as if no burden had ever existed. , Monty was charmed, and thought as they at length .-.tood outside the bank together that it was incredible how quickly time could pas*. However, he had already arranged another appointment. As she shook hands warmly with her in parting, she bent towards him and whispered in his ear, " How good and kind you are! There!" She was gone, but she had' left .a ' fairy kiss upon his cheek.

A week later Monty walked towards his club in an irritable mood. It had been raining heavily on the morning of his appointment, two days before, and of course the lady had not ventured out. Nor had she appeared since, in spite of his long waits at the trysting place. He cursed himself for a fool in having taken no opportunity of exchanging addresses. The smoking-room was empty save for Pilkin'gton, a young gentleman whom Monty loathed as a conceited bore. But there was no escape. "Hallo, old chap!" said' Pilkington cheerfully; " what have you been doing with yourself? Haven't seen you for agos; Made any conquests lately?" Monty resenteel the question. " :Vb," he replied indifferently. "Oh. I seo; merely been killing time. Well, I've been fairly -busy myself.- Nothing extraordinary; though. I'm warier than I used to he, and it's no wonder after the shocking experience 1 had a few months ago. Ever tell you about it?" "No." " Lent a cool hundred to a most Topping girl who was hard up. Never saw jithor again." "Where did you find her?" asked llonty rather uneasily. " Oh, it was most—er, what's the rord?—romantic, you know. I was in i, theatre one night, and the girl was itting near mo with a ckaperone. We xchanged introductions in the usual ptical May, and I managed to get just ehind her as we were going out. And I hatever d'you think she did?" Monty's lips refused to move. '; Actually slipped a shilling into nfy and! Then advertised for me iy Jove, what a howling, ass I Tas, I h?" "You wore!'' said Monty, and Pil- { ington was surprised! at tho extreme eartiness of his companion's tono. i