THE WILL AND THE WAY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVI, Issue 14221, 18 November 1909, Page 3

THE WILL AND THE WAY.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ABEANGEUENT.

BY BERNARD CAPES, Author of "The Secret in the Hill." " A BoEue'sTriiaredy," "The Green Parrots," "A Castle in Spain," "A Jay. of Italy," "The Lake of Wine," \ v. . .'' . Etc.. : Etc. • ' - [COPTBIGHT.] '."■'•". CHAPTER VII. MISS PRINGLE GIVES WAY. The Royal Academy exhibition opens, as all the world knows, its portals to an ecstatic public on the first Monday in May. Those are the lock-gates, as it were, to a stream of life at flood. Fashion pours in till the rooms can hold no more, swirls and babbles awhile, and flows out again by the swing doors, to the lower levels of Piccadilly. Any acquaintance with pictures is the last thing the flood has dreamed of making meanwhile.; It has been in far too congested a state to reflect on anything but its own discomforts. A glimpse of a girl and a dog, of a silver birch reflected in a pool, of a tumbling wave, transparent as the convention which produced itany one, or all, of these, caught through casual loopholes between ineffable frocks and peerless and peerful coats, must suffice it for all the culture contained in a couple of thousand or so painted , canvases. For the rest, it has the individual consolation of knowing that, if fire were to break out and anneal the whole conglomerate mass of which it forms an item, it would be baked up, like a currant in a cake, with a horde of dukes, duchesses, bishops,' and celebrities of every caste and description, and bo thenceforth for all time a di6tinguised well-connected memory. The game, therefore, may be said; literally, to be "worth the candle"to' those, anyhow, who like the game. Mr. Robert Le - Strang was not one of these. Perhaps ho under-estimated or had forgotten in his pretty lengthy exile from native institutions the enormous attractions of that one which represents pictorial culture at its highest eocial expression. He had seized this earliest opportunity to examine the work of an artist in whom he was interested, and he found the task beyond him. All the approaches to everywhere were blocked. He was shouldered, had his toes trodden on, his hat tilted over his eyes, and his temper ruffled. Being by nature a philosophically polite man, he decided that lie had better give up the struggle before it betrayed him into retaliations, and postpone his search to a more accommodating occasion. He left the building and went home. 'There, someone, a fellow-lodger, enlightened him. If it was the pictures he wanted to see, he need only attend at the first opening of the doors, which was at eight o'clock in the morning, .and for two or three hours he could have the place virtually to himself. Le Strang thanked his informant, and avowed that for a marvel it was the pictures he desired to see. He went on a fine morning, leaving Bobo in charge of his landlady, who was a motherly soul, and attached to the boy. Not that the little fellow ever gave much trouble. He was a queer, quiet child, 'easily amused and of small vitality. . He ailed a good deal, and gave his self-imposed guardian some, anxious moments. Le Strang's brow was thoughtful over him, as he went on his way. .Necessarily his reflections embraced contiguous subjects Mr. Redding and his insolences, Miss Vanborough and her caprices. These- figures were ; ; never far absent from i his thoughts, though he had -been resolute in confining them -there to their proper places and proportions. The main business * of '*■ his life -' was, ■" as "'■ he * had " told • himself, to live—an independent necessity . entirely, apart from the casual cause he had undertaken to champion. And, as to that, even, his interference having proved fruitlees, Bobo and he were henceforth partners in the world, isolated from all hope or prospect of help,- save what they could give to one another. The will (he had examined | a copy of it at Somerset House. It was j dated some three years back) was indisputable; the moral claim rejectedthere was nothing more whatever to be said on that subject. For the rest, he had obtained a night-lecturing appointment in a local Polytechnic, arid he was writing a book on Japanese literature; for which he-had alI ready secured a publisher in advance—no great matters, but an earnest of better things ■ to come. It was the problem of feminine: mutability which, when he chose ! to think about it, perplexed him. || : He' thought about it, perhaps, more and more often than he believed. The contrast between two attitudes one of petulant but impulsive generosity, the other of inhuman denial—was constantly-occur-ring to him. Of course the lawyer's interference was patent-between the two but how justified, and why so authoritative? A creature of so imperious a nature as the girl had appeared to show herself on first acquaintance would scarcely have allowed her will to be over-ridden on a personal matter, and'then with such obvious distress to herself, except on strong * compulsion. What force had directed her—what was behind it all? '■ * ' -' \ ' Le Strang was a strong, patient, muchenduring man; but he had a natural pride of self, which, when insulted, could become actively dangerous. Because, for the present, lie had subordinated all other considerations i to the main one of striking a new t career for himself, it must not be supposed that he had overlooked the lawyer's coarse insinuation, or his own retort upon it. If that slander had been part of a scheme to frighten away an inopportune ; visitor, so much the worse for the slander- | er— much • the worse for his scheme. Taken together with the other, it seemed to point to an anxiety to get rid of an interI loper who might prove troublesome. I He might; he was content to bide his | time. It was no consideration for the girl which moved him, save in so far as her possible victimising might be affecting the interests of the little life he had adopted. It was the boy who counted first and for everything with him. So he told himself, and so he believed yet that forlorn, " very young" figure, as he had last parted from it in its trouble, haunted his mind strangely. It had seemed so much in need of some help or protection which it could ask no more than he could offer. Yet, unconsciously to himself, the warmth engendered of that same human need, which had looked towards him in its pain, was affecting his nerves of emotion more than he recognised. His brain told him that he had done with the girl but iiis soul of chivalry was not, in fact, quite so convincing. Beaching the Academy, he found that his informant had stated no less than the truth. Though its doors had already been opened some hour and a-half, there was only, comparatively, a sprinkling of visitors distributed about the echoing room*- — critics, picture-dealers and picture-lovers; earnest citizens intent on snatching an hour's converse with romance before the prosaic duties of the day; serious young women to whom the frivolities of fashion were abhorrent. Le Strang, intent on his business, was making, catalogue in hand, for the water-colours, when, in passing through the long room, a figure seated on a lounge near him attracted his attention. He thought he recognised the lachrymose face under one of those immense spoon-billed hats which only the beautiful can wear with approximate success, and which are therefore greatly in favour with the plain. The start, and nervous little motion as of half-invitation which its wearer gave, implying » mutual recognition, he raised his hat, advanced, and accosted the ladv. "I have the pleasure," he began— ''Mrs;—" • ' *. She bowed, simpering a little. "Miss Pringle. Mr, Le Strang," she admitted, with a. blush. " The matrimonial designation is not yet appropriate to me." • "Oh, indeed!" said Ln Strang, gallantly, though wondering a little. "I must apologise for nntifi^iting; but it was a very natural mistake." She had already been attracted to him; he now to hex ona of the most

charming men she had ever met. She bent to a little laugh, very embarrassed and maidenly. > ' \ "It is Find of you to say so," she said; "but chaperon-companions are ■; pledged to others' interests before their own." . ."You mean?" he ventured-v" I did not know. "You stand in that relation to Miss?" ,'- '■'<■, . All Miss Pringle's coquetry vanished in the sudden anguish evoked by that innocent question. Her poor watery eyes brimmed over; "she could hardly refrain from sobbing as she wiped them. %\\':■*■■' "Stood, Mr. Le Strang," she whispered, when she could speak—" stood, Miss Vanborough has dismissed me, Mr. Le Strang." La Strang was very sorry, and said so quite feelingly. " After two" years' devoted service," wept the companion I could not have believed it—l, who have suffered her whims and caprices as no other mortal woman would or could have done, and loved her through all, nevertheless, as if she were my own child. Le Strang sat down beside her. "It seems ungrateful," he said, with a hard face. " What was her reason, or excuse, may I ask?" The poor woman raised her eyes and hands.

"What, indeed?—to suit her convenience, no more—a month's notice, like any hired menial; and, come to-morrow, it will be a week since I left."

" And that is all?"

"No, Mr. Le Strang, —to do her justice, I believe she was speaking another will than her own; and indeed I make her that allowance, though the hardship is none the less to me."

"Ah!" Le Strang was grating his chin thoughtfully. " You refer, I presume, to Mr. Redding?" "He has ail influence over her," she said hesitatingly- more marked than since your first visit to us. She has been spoilt, Mr. Le Strang—there is no denying itbut she was never capable by herself of such a meanness as that which must have disgraced her for ever in your eyes. Oh, dear, dear, how very disheartening!" ." Pray compose yourself, Miss Pringle. I want, with your permission, to ask you a question or two. Distract your thoughts for a moment, please, because we are exciting a little notice. Do you admire that portrait opposite? The woodland setting is effective, don't you think?" Miss Pringle gasped a little, mopping her eyes. "I was admiring it before you came, Mr. Le Strang," she said faintly. " You are a connoisseur, I see," said .Le Strang. "You like to come and enjoy the pictures before the vulgar herd are afoot?" "Yes. indeed," said the companion. " Though, truth to tell, my present visit is due to a private appointment with my late employer." Le Strang looked up. with a slight start. "Miss Vanborough?" Miss Pringle nodded woefully. "I would never," she said, "calumnify her. The meeting, by her desire, is strictly secret, and I am convinced it bodes me good. But what benefactions," said the poor woman, threatening a new outburst, "can atone for the injury to a blighted faith?" She looked in sudden terror at her companion. "If she comes," she gasped, " please not to breathe a word to her of my confidences." " I will not," answered Le Strang"nor of my asking, nor of your answering, the questions I am sure you will let me put to you. It strikes me, you Enow, that an adviser, other than Mr. Redding, would not be out of place here." Miss Pringle clasped her hards in quick emotion. rTo be continued daily!'.