A WOMAN'S SOUL.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLI, Issue 12544, 11 April 1904, Page 3

A WOMAN'S SOUL.

BY CHARLES GAR VICE. Author of Claire," "Her Heart's Desire." "Her Ransom," "Elaine," Nell of Shorne Mills," "A Coronet of Shame," "The Story of a Passion." etc.

CHAPTER XTX.-(Continued). Him grace surveyed Doris through a pair of gold eyeglasses, and inclined her head with ducal condescension, and Lady Despard introduced several other persons iu the circle. "' We are going to Florence together," said Lady Despard, " though why Florence I haven't the slightest idea; it's a whim of my doctor's. I don't feel the slightest bit ill, but lie says I am, and ho ought to know, 1 suppose." Doris, as she leaned back, half-hidden by Lady Despard's elaborate tea-gown on one side and the voluminous folds of a plush curtain 011 the other, looked on at the crowd, and listened to the hum and buzz of voices, half in a, dream. Every now and then she heard some wellknown name mentioned, and discovered that the people around her were not, only persons of rank, but men and women famous in the world of music and letters. Suddenly she heard a name spoken that made her heart leap, and caused her to shrink still further back. "What has become of Cecil Neville:" asked the duchess. Lady Despard shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sure I don't- know. Oh. yes, I do. I had forgotten. He has gone." down to stay with his uncle, the Marquis of Sloylo, you know." "Poor Cecil," commiserated the duchess, with a faint smile. " How he must suffer-!" " I heard that he'd been obliged to leave England," remarked another lady in a subdued voice. "Up to his ears in debt, poor fellow!" "Well, he has had a. very long rope," said the duchess. "It- is time he married and settled down."' " That is just what he is going to do," said Lady Despard, laughing. "I hoard from Mr. Spenser Churchill—he is stopping at Barton Towers, you know—that Lord Cecil is engaged to Grace Peyton." The duchess raised her eyebrows. "At last! Well, it is a good match, and I'm sure she'll be happy." Doris sat perfectly motionless, and very pale. fighting against the dizziness which assailed her. " What is that the senor is playing?" asked ihe duchess presently. "I haven't the slightest idea," replied Lady Despard. helplessly. Doris arose. '* I will go and inquire." .she paid, feeling that she had better seize the opportunity of making herself useful. Her grace looked after her. "That's a very beautiful girl, my dear," she said, slowly. " Isn't she !" responded Lady Despard. " I call her lovely—simply lovely. I'm awfully obliged to Mr. Spenser Churchill." "Who is she'.'—where does she come .from?" "Oh, it's quite a long story!" said her ladyship, who was not so simple as to throw down Doris' history for her aristocratic friends to woiry. "The poor child has lust lost her father.*'

" She will create a sensation,*' said the duchess, calmly and emphatically. , " I don't think I ever saw a more lovely face, or a. more graceful figureexcepting yours, uiy dear."

"Oh. you can leave mine out, too!" said Ladv Dcsiiard, good-naturedly. Meanwhile, Doris made her way through the crowd .and the duchess' prophecy was speedily fulfilled. Men and women, as they made room for the slight, girlish figure to pass, looked after her with a startled curiosity, and turned to each other, asking eager questions, some of which were pitched iu a quite high enough key for Doris to heir. But, with the modest self-possession which her training had bestowed upon her, she reached the piano, learned the name of the piece, and returned to the duchess. "It is Beethoven's sonata in G, your grace," she said in her low, musical voice. "Thank you, my dear," said the duchess. "It was very good-natural of yon to take so much trouble. Good-bye, Lady Despard," and as she shook hands with her hostess she bestowed a smile and a nod on Doris.

Lady Despard laughed. "My dear," she said, "you are going to be a Success.. It isn't often the duchess is so amiable."

Two hours later, Mr. Spenser Churchill, with a smile that seemed to cast a benediction on everything it lighted on, was slowly walking down the still warm pavement of Bentbam-street, Soho.

Bentham-street, Soho, is by no means an aristocratic thoroughfare, and the eminent philanthropist had to meander in and out of a crowd of dirty children, who shouted and sprawled over the kerb and pavement, much to their own delight and the peril of the foot passengers; ' but Mr: Spenser Churchill seemed quite familiar with the streets and its humours, and, stopping at a house half-way down, knocked at the door as if he had done it before.

A young and overgrown girl shuffled along the passage and answering an inquiry of Mr. Churchill's as to whether Mr. Percy Levant was in nodded an affirmative, and requested Mr. Churchill to follow her. She knocked at a. door on the first floor, and, receiving a peculiarly clear-voiced " Come in," opened the door, and jerked her finger by way of invitation to Mr. Churchill to enter. Notwithstanding the neighbourhood in which it was situated, and the dingy condi-tion-of the rest of the house, this'room was comfortably furnished, and indicated the possession of some amount of taste by its occupant. The room was full of smoke which emanates from a good Havana, and the smoker was reclining in a comfortable chair, with his feet on another, and a glass of. apparently, soda and brandy by his elbow. He was a young man, who if he possessed no other qualities, had been remarkably favoured bv the rods in one particular; ho was perhaps as singularly handsome a specimen of the human race as it is possible to conceive. So finely cut and delicately moulded was his face that it would have been considered effeminate but for the moustache which, like his hair and eyebrows, and the long lashes that swept the clear olive cheek, was a silky, lustrous black. "Hallo,' Spenser, is that you?*' he exclaimed, with a laugh, as he rose and held out his hand, as white—thrush not so soft and fat—as the philanthropist's own. "An unexpected honour! Sit down! You don't mind the smoke, do you?" he asked, as Mr. Spenser Churchill coughed two or three " wow, wows," behind his handkerchief. "Rather thick, isn't it? The room's small, you see, and I've been (smoking for-—oil, Lord knows how long! Have anything? Brandy and soda, eh? All right!" and. going to the window, he leaned out, and culled some instructions to an urchin below. "My deai Percy, isn't that—er—rather a public way of procuring refreshments?" said Mr. Churchill.

The young fellow laughed. "Well, perhaps it is," he admitted. " Bui it saves trouble, and they're used to it! There are always some youngster? outside glad to earn a- penny, and the ' Pig and Whistle' keeps a very "good article, so they sav! Have a cigar?" and he pushed a box toward him. "You'll find them all right, I think. And, now, what brings you trthe aristocratic regions of Soho?" Mr. Spenser Churchill lit his cigar and took two or three preliminary puffs before answering, the young man leaning against the mantel-shelf in graceful abandon, and watching him with a faintly-amused curiosity; then the great philanthropist said, in his soft, dulcet voice: ■ "I have come to make your fortune, Percy!" CHAPTER XX. AN KXTEAORDINARY. rBOrOSAL. "Oh, you have come to make my fortune!" said Percy Levant. "Pardon me, but that sounds rather— and he regarded Mr. Spenser Churchill with a faint smile. . , . "Funny!" echoed the philanthropist, In an injured tone, "why 'funny'? I trust 1 have always proved myself your friend and well-wisher, my dear Percy."" The young man smiled again, and stroked his silky moustache with his white, long, artistic-looking hand.

! "Yes—oh, yes! I didn't mean to be of- ! fensive, but you must allo\v that people don't generally go about making other people's fortunes—that's all. Pray proceed. I'm all impatience, and grateful by anticipation! Goodness knows my fortune reeds making very badly!" and he glanced round the room, and down at his shabby velvet jacket, which hung over a chair, with a little grimace. " Forgive me, my dear Percy, if I remark that the poverty which you lament may be as much your .fault as your misiortune. ''I daresay," he assented, with good-tem-pered indolence ; " you mean that there is not enough of the busy bee about me, Sir. Churchill?" ' The philanthropist shook his head gravely. "Why do you come here with your Arabian Nights kind of speeches and stir me up! Bah, it's too hot for such mental exercise." and Percy sank into a- chair and folded' his hands behind his head. "No. Churchill, I am in the desert, and there I shall stick." " Unless some friendly guide extends a helping band and leads you out," said the philanthropist. "I can quite understand your feelings, my dear Percy, and I must say they are very natural ones. You are, without" flattery, formed by Nature to adorn a higher sphere than your present one. I don't think any of the young fellows you envy could do greater credit to their wealth and position than you coukl do. Seriously, I think you were cut out for better things than teaching the piano to the daughters of the inhabitants of Soho and its neighbourhood." "No doubt. I was intended for the boldest son of a. liearl," said Percy, sarcastically, "but there happens to bo a -hitch somewhere." "And suppose I tell you that I can undo that hitch, that I can' give you a helping hand to better and higher things ; in short to repeat myself, to make your fortune! Think of it, 'Percy. Plenty of money, the entrance to good society, horses to ride, club doors thrown open to you, choice wines, men of rank for friends, and a world ready to welcome with outstretched hands goodlooking and accomplished Mr, Percy Levant!"' The young fellow regarded him with the same incredulous smile, but there was a light of subdued eagerness in his eyes, and a warmer colour in his face. "' You ought to go into tlio House, Churchill." he said. " I don't mean the workhouse, but the Hor.se of Commons. I suppose you learn all this kind of thing at your charitable public meetings? I'll come and hear you some of these days; they tell me you make uncommonly good speeches. Well, go on. How is this fortune of mine to be made, and—excuse my bluntness—why are you so anxious to make it'.'" "A very natural question, my dear Percy, and. believe me, I am not at all annoyed by it. I intend to be perfectly frank and open-minded with you" Percy Levant smiled, and got another cigar. """I beg your pardon. Churchill, but. the idea of your being frank rather tickled me. The spasm has passed, however; proceed. Is it a new gold mine you are going to ask me to become a director of? Or have you invented a new washing machine, and want me to travel for it? What is it?"

"It has always seemed so strange to trie.'' resumed Mr. Spenser Churchill, ignoring the interruption, "'that you have never turned your attention to matrimony." The young fellow stared at him, then, laughed sarcastically. "You think that the palatial dimensions of this room ore too large for one individual : that I should be more comfortable if I shared my sixpenny plate of moat and threadbare wardrobe with another? My dear Churchill, yon might as well ask a limping, footsore tramp why he doesn't, turn his attention to riding in a carriage and pair! Matrimony! Good Lord! lam not quite out of my mind!" "But your wife need not he poor, my dear Percy. She may be rich in this world's good?—" " Oh, yes, I didn't think of that ; and you suggest that there are hundreds of wealthy heiresses who are dying to become Mrs. Percy Levant; perishing with the desire to bestow their hands and fortunes on the music teacher of Soho!"

" Ton would not be the first man who has married money," said the philanthropist, smoothly. " But let me be move explicit, mv dear Percy. By one of those strange chances, which are indeed providential, I happen to be acquainted with a young lady who would, in all respects, make you a most suitable wife."

••Really:'' "Yes," said Spenser Churchill, gravely,' "the circumstances of the case are peculiar, not to say romantic. The fact is, lam that ; young lady's guardian, not exactly such in ; a legally-qualified sense, but by—eran unfortunate accident and, as her guardian. I am naturally desirous of promoting her present and future welfare. Ah ; my dear Percy, how sacred a trust one undertakes when one accepts the care of a young and innocent girl!' and lie looked up at the ceiling with a. devout sigh. Percy Levant smiled with mingled mockery and amusement, '" Very nice sentiments," he said. " Bub go on. "And this is the young lady you have in your eye for me, is it?" The philanthropist nodded gravely. "I confess it, my dear Percy. < I have considered tho question in all its numerous bearings, and I am convinced that 1 shall be promoting both her future welfare and yours byer—bringing you together." Percy Levant stared at him. " This grows serious," he said. "And may I ask if this young lady is 'rich in this world's goods,' as you so beautifully put it?" "She is—-or, rather, she will he." replied Spenser Churdaill, leaning forward, and speaking in a lower tone, and with his eyes fixed on the other man's face with a keen, yet covert watchfulness. "I said that there were peculiar and romantic circumstances in the case, and one of them is this, that the young lady has no idea of the wealth which will some day be hers." "Oh!" said Percy, curtly, "she hasn't, eh? Yes, that's peculiar, certainly. I suppose there is no doubt about the golden future, eh?" "It is as certain as that you and I are in this room." " And the romance— where dues that come in " The young lady's career has been a singular one ; she has been an actress." Percy whistled and stared. "But she is a lady in every sense of the word," continued Spenser Churchill, slowly and significantly. " She has left the stage, acting on my advice, and in consequence of the death of her only relative, and is living now with some dear friends of mine. With the exception of myself, she has no one to turn to for advice and assistance. lam her sole guardian, and—l may say—friend. She will, T am sure, be guided entirely by me, and that is why I am so anxious to provide for her future welfare." "By marrying her to a needy adventurer," finished Percy Levant, with a smile. " No ; to one who, though deficient in the energy which achieves greatness by its own strength, is, I am sure, a man of honour," said Spenser Churchill suavely. Percy Levant stared at him with a curious smile. "This is amusing and romantic with a vengeance." he said. " And the young lady —of course she is us ugly as sin?" (To be continued daily.)