THE WAY TO WIN,

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13701, 18 March 1908, Page 10

THE WAY TO WIN,

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL JJRKANGEMENT.)

? BY MADAME ALBANESI, Author of " Capricious Caroline," " The Strongest of All Things." " Susannah and One Other," " Love and Louisa," Etc., Etc f COPYRIGHT. j I CHAPTER XXII- - chmstink's anxiety. 1 Mi;s. Comstov had lost no time in mak ' ing use of her slight acquaintance with ; Anno Dancroft to bring about a renewal . of'hcr friendship with Mrs. Dudworth. In the old days when she had been sun- ', pie and her greatest excitement had heel ' paying visits to Houston. Enid Brathmorc i had been a favourite with Mrs. Dudworth; '■> but marriage had changed her so entirely; she had grown so worldly, she was so '. superficial that she had slipped out of favour with Christine's cousin. i Anne was not so discriminating. She thought Mrs. Collision very pretty and very fashionable, and was quite ready to 1 respond to all the younger woman's little 1 attentions. Anne was not to know, of course, that. Enid Collision regarded her with a great ■ deal of jealousy. The why and the wherefore of the DaneroiVs appearance at Hunston remained still a mystery, but i there was nothing mysterious about Miss Dancrot't's expensive clothes, or the fact that she .seemed to have plenty of money. And money was so essential to Mrs. Collision. There was not nearly enough of it in her life; she had never realised how powerful, how necessary money could be till she left the country and came to London. .Many a time she said to herself : " I was Christine's only giri friend, surely 1 have a better right to get things from her than these people have? I don't believe they .arc relations ! We never heard anything about them when Mr. Fielding was alive. One of these days 1 shall speak openly to Christine." Yet though she was jealous sin- made a great fuss with Anne. Indeed, she went so far as to suggest that when the visit from Mrs. Dudworth came to all end j Anne should stay with her. Miss Dancroft could not, however, accept this invitation without reference to her brother, not because she was anxious to lender him obedience, but because she was very eager to static the question of her future—settle it, that is to say, as far as money was concerned. So important was this point to Anne, that after turning the matter over in her mind some time she determined to write to Christine. In her frank way she went straight to the point—she must put the whole situation before Miss Fielding. " There is money to come to me, so Jim tells me, but it's for you to decide what J am to have and when. Well, will you please let me know how much .' am going to have, and, above all, when I can count upon dealing with it independently of my people':" The same post which brought this tetter from Anne carried one also to Chris- | tine from George Burnstone. Sir George wrote giving particulars about the house which lie desired her to buy, about the yacht, and about all the , arrangements which he was making for ! the autumn and for the winter; and at the end of the letter he put " Brathmore writes me that you really need change of i air. Why will you not stay with my mother for a little while? It seems so strange that you two should not be together at times. My dear mother is only waiting for the opportunity of showing you affection and kindness. I should have suggested bringing her to you at Hunston, but I feel sure whilst you have these people there you don't care about having other guests. In a little while, dearest, I hope you will let me discuss the question of these Dancroft with you. I think this is one of the matters which we must settle right away before we narry." To these letters Christine replied by telegram. To Anne her message ran : " The matter you speak of shall be arranged with as little delay as possible." To Burnstone she sent the following message : " I am coming up to town end of week, will go into everything with von thoroughly-" When these had been sent she wrote a letter. If was to James Dancroft : "Dear Mr. Dancroft (it ran), I received a communication from Mr. Millward yesterday in which he informed me that you have expressed a wish to have some responsible position abroad. It was not necessary that this matter should be referred to me, but as Mr. Millward has brought it under my notice I write to say that if my co-operation is necessary to procure you this post you may rely upon having it. At the same time it is most important that 1 should see you before you go. For this purpose I shall be in town at the end of this week, and 1 shall esteem it a favour if you will come and see me. You will find me at my father's house in Bedford Square. There are various matters which must be settled between us without further delay." Then Christine wrote to Mrs. Dudworth a tender little letter in which she told her that matters of business would take her to London in a couple of days' lime. " Do not be vexed with me, dearest (she wrote), if I tell you that I have decided to go to the old house in Bedford Square. I have a fancy to be there. Above all 1 must go through the house and see what is in it ami make my plans in connection with these things." Two days later Miss Fielding left Hunston. She took her maid with her. There were responsible caretakers in the London house, it had only been necessary to \ send word to say she was coming; she. found all prepared for her arrival. Mrs. Dudworth had sent in a quantity , of lovely flowers to greet her, but she , had not written. There was only one letter awaiting Christine and that was from Dancroft, " ; Sir Ceorge not being aware of this move on Christine's part, was awaiting to hear from her on her arrival. He naturally j supposed that she would go to Mrs. Dud- , worth's house. i Despatching a telegram stating that she , would be glad to see James Dancroft , that evening after dinner, Christine then , made a pilgrimage through the large house. ' " _, If was a veritable, museum. Treasures of all kinds, rarest examples of porcelain, ] tapestry, and pictures were to be found i on every side. | Christine had not realised the extent of her possessions in this respect. Her | father had been accustomed to occupy the house uheii he had' been in London" bill < In- had contented himself with one of the I smaller rooms, , Hi this roan, however, evidence was 1 given of the man's exquisite taste; the i appointee tits were perfect, and here the ; only picture hung on the walls was a portrait of Christine's mother, painted very ; soon nee her marriage. ' i It, was in this room that Christine re- < solved to receive James Dancroft. < Unconsciously the journey from linn- I .-ton, the change of atmosphere st.imu- \ lated Christine". She felt calmer and I stronger than she bad felt, for some time \ and this although she was strung up to ,- attack a most, difficult task. It was a hot day, so she had discarded her black clothes, ' and wore one of her favourite old white 1 gowns. ; Dinner was served her in oneof the small- • er loom.--, a room hung with almost, price- > less old minis, and about nine o'clock ' her maid announced to her that Mr. Dan- ' croft had arrived. Christine hardly knew him when she < saw him. He wore evening dress, and new a.s the garb was to him he looked extraordinarily well in it. After a moment's hesitation she held out her hand to him whilst, she thanked him for coming. Dancroft merely touched her hand, however. Coffee was brought in to them, and cigarette- and cigars, bid though he took ! a cup of coffee he refused to smoke. He was looking about him and his eves were , livetted on the portrait. " i ,

3 " That was my mother," Christine said in «i low voice. "Yes, 1 thought so. lie answered. ' Then he added, " You are like her " Hut even as the words wens spoken he had a pang. He remembered what Dr. Brathmore had said, and he looked at i Christine will' a wealth of unconscious anxiety. " Are you belter'''" lie asked. Christine coloured and said : " Yes, I really feel belter, and I shall I fee! much better after we have set tied ! things, Mr. Dancroft."' Instantly he became his customary self. " It is not so easy to settle tilings," he j said. Christine sighed. "Do 1 not know thai '. Won't you sit down '.'" 1 Sim sat herself beside the table mi which her maid had put a blotting pad, ink. . and paper. He did not take the big chair .she indi- , ented, but sat on the opposite side of the table. It gave him a, strange, thrill to find himself alone with her in this fnsli- ; ion, to be able to sit and look at her ' as freely as he liked. To-night it seemed to him thai he was seeing tier real beauty fur the first time. There was a serenity in her expression. The tortured look in her eyes had ' gone. Whilst he rejoiced in these evi--1 dences of mental calmness, in this proof that she was really better, her IraiKjiiillily only served to set her still farther away from him. " 1 suppose you have something to propose," he said abruptly, "otherwise you Mould not have brought me here." "All 1 have to propose is that we should come to some definite understanding as regards your claim." '' .My mother's claim, you mean," the man said quickly. "' I am already satisfied with what lies been done." "1 can't deal wit yiun mother, Mr. Dancroft." said Christine almost firmly. "1 have done my best to nice! her. I have fallen in with all of her wishes as far as [ possibly could, but—" • She broke off and then she began to speak of Anne. An angry look came into the man's face. lie put a. question to her bluntly : ''Has Anne been writing to you?" . And when she answered " Yes," and ho muttered something under his breath, Christine asked him boldly : "Why are 1 you angry with your sister? If I must speak frankly. I consider that | she is treating me far better than you are. i She wants to come to a definite' underI standing, and after that she goes her way and 1 shall go mine. Since 1 have, recognised to the full the fact that your mother, your sister, yourself, have the most serious claim, there remains only details to be settled." " .Matter.--," Dancroft said in his rough way, "which should be dealt with by lawyers." But Christine contradicted this. • "No; you know how 1 stand: you know what 1 am struggling for. When we do agree, then the actual drawing u'u of settlements must of course go into other hands, but I will not have any lawyers probing this; 1 will not have the whole ! matter subjected to examination. 1 will do it myself." y The man did not speak to her imme- | diately, then he said :" " Believe me. Miss Fielding, 1 am abso- I lutely sincere when I advise yon to conj sult others. No doubt you have not realised this, but there is a" phase of the position which is peculiarly unpleasant, at least to me; I allude to the fact that we, my mother, my sister, and myself, are already stamped in the eyes id' those about you, as people who are sponging on you. I am not even sure if they do not go and regard us as blackmailers. 1 am not made of fine stuff, still I do think I have let yon understand that I appreciate your sentiment for your father, even if I cannot sympathise with it. Now if. seems to me (hat in justice to yourself and to us you ought to take counsel with someone." There was nothing of his usual rough- j ness in his voice: indeed, lie spoke almost gently, and his words made a great impression on Christine. " T never looked at the matter from this point of view," site said. " It—it changes things." She leaned her elbow on the table, and rested her face on her hand. " I had hoped," she said in a. low voice, "that we might have definitely fixed a settlement to-night. I am disappointed." "As far as I am concerned," said Dancroft, "we have reached a settlement. Through your influence I am now in a position to make a life for myself, perhaps to make, a fortune. Anne will not give yon very much trouble, but I am afraid I can in no way answer for my mother. It is she, after all, who has suffered the most. Her life has been blighted, her nature transformed by unprecedented suffering. She has lived to obtain some satisfaction, and now that this chance has come she is not prepared to cede it easily." After a little pause the young man went on in the same gentle way : "Money as money counts for very little with my mother. 'I know that you are longing to have your life to yourself, to be free from the constant bitter reminder of what your father has done ; but it is just here that I dare not hold out any hopes to yon. I dare not interfere, and because of this 1 earnestly advise you to consult either with your lawyers, with your friends, or with your future husband." He wailed for her to speak, but no words would come. Then, going back to : his customary manner, he said : " As regards my sister, please leave her in my hands." Then he rose to go. " I am sorry," he said, abruptly, " I cannot j be of more use to you." Christine rose. too. "1 shall have to think over what you have uistjaeen saying. I- 1 hardly "see my way." Then hurriedly she said : "'there is one thing 1 have always wanted to ask you. Can you give me any in •formation about my father's very early life. Thinking over things as I do think. I feel (hat perhaps there may be some who have a claim upon me, kith and kin of my father's to whom even a little j money would lie a boon." .lames Dancroft shook his head. " I can't be of the least help to you in this, for I know absolutely nothingbe- j yond the fact that vour 'father began life as a. workhouse, boy. I fancy if he had belonged to any folk near where ffc were. I should have "heard of it. It might lie possible for you to trace out the beginning .of things. But here again, if I may advise you, I would suggest that you did nothing on impulse or independently." This lime he took Christine's hand when she held it out to him. "Why did you come to this great lone I ly house?" hi ; asked her abruptly. "Yon want life and comfort, You should not j lie so much alone." " Solitude is the nearest approach to hap- j piness to me now." Christine answered him, " and I understand now what a. \ solace it must, have been to my father. I used to think- if was fatigue, weariness of work, which made him turn to (hose hours of quietness, but now [ know that if must, have been an ache in his heart, a. perpetual ache. Oh ! .Mr. Dancroft, you are prejudiced against him, and I 'am afraid you are right to have such hard feelings, still if ii could have been granted to you to have known him. if he hud only lived to have carried out this grail fast: of atonement, I am sine your feelings would have changed, I am sure you would have found that lie was not the black, unworthy man you have been taught to consider him." Her voice was a. little unsteady as she, thanked him for coming. A ' moment later he was gone, leaving Christine con- J scions of a si rung*' feeling of loneliness < and regret. It, was the Sort of feeling ! which had been won! to come to her in j the old days when she had driven her ■ lather to the railway station and bad stood and watched the train which was i carrying him away lade into the distance. j (To ho continued daily.) ;