SYLVIA'S CHAUFFEUR.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 14676, 10 May 1911, Page 10

SYLVIA'S CHAUFFEUR.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ABBANQBMEST.

BY LOUIS TRACY, Author of "Rainbow Island." "The Silent Barrier," "The Message," etc.

[COPYRIGHT.]

CHAPTER Xll.—(Continued.)

,Thb sheer wonder in Sylvia's face warned Medenham that this brief excursion into the pages of Macaulay had better coaso, so he focussed his thoughts on the actual representation of the masquo in which ho had taken part 10 years ago at Fair holme. " I must ask you to concede that the lords and ladies, the civic dignitaries and their wives, for whose amusement Milton spread the pinions of his genius, were far better equipped to understand his lyric flights than any similar assemblage that could be collected haphazard in some modern castle. They did not pretend— they know. Even you, Lady Alice, could frame a neat verso in Latin and cap some pleasant jest with a line from Homer. When Milton dreamed aloud of bathing in the Elysian dow of the rainbow, of inhaling the scents of nard and cassia, ' which the musky wings of the Zephyr scatter through the cedared alleys of the liesperidos,' they followed oach turn and swoop of his fancy with an active senso of its truth and beauty. And what a brilliant company ! How tho red flaro of torch and cresset would flicker on the sheen of silk, the lustre of velvet, the polished brightness of morion and spear. I think I can see those gallant gentlemen and fine ladies grouped round the players who told of the strange pranks played by tho God of Mirth. Perhaps that samefair Alice, who supplied the motive of the masmio as well as its leading lady, may be linked with you by stronger ties than those of mere feminine grace—" Sylvia did not blush; she- grew white, but shook her head. _ ' , "You cannot tell/' ho said. "'Comus was played in Ludlow only fourteen years after the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England, and I would remind you that we stocked the new nation in the west with some of the bluest blood m Britain. Even in this hall there wore Puritans whoso ascetic tastes disapproved of Milton's imageries,. of children play-act-ing, of the brave show made by the gentry—" -■': * . ,i' My mother's people lived m Pennsylvania for generations," sho broke in with a strange wistfulness. / - .■ ' "I knew it," he cried in triumph. " Tell me the names of the first-nighters at tho Milton Theatre, Ludlow, on that autumn evening in 1634, and warrant me to find you an authentic ancestor." Sylvia bent a puzzled brow at him. •'After this, I shall apply myself to • Comus' with added comprehension," she i said. "" But— take my breath away 3 have you, then, delved so deep in the mine of English history that ; you can people most every ruined pile in Britain with the men and women of the dead years . . He laughed, and 'coloured a little, with : true British confusion at having been caught in an extravagant mood. " There you lav bare the mummer, he said. •" What clever fellows actors would be if they grasped the underlying realities of all the fine words they mouth! No; I quote ' Comus' only because on one halfforgotten occasion I played in it." "Where?"' The prompt question took him unawares. " At Fairholrhe," he said. '*' Is that another castle?" ■':■':■ * „ "Nomerely a Georgian residence. "I seem to have heard of it—somewhere can't remember." ' He remembered quite well— not Mrs. Devar, a student of Burke, sitting in the car at the castle gate ? , # . " Oh, we must hurry," he said shamefacedly. " I have kept you here too long, for we have yet to

Trace huge forest* anil unharl>our"d heaths, Infamous hills and sandy perilous wilds,' , before we see Chester—and Mrs. Leland." . With that the bubble was pricked, and staid Ludlow became a busy marketagain, its streets blocked by the barrows of hucksters,and farmers' carts, its converging roads thronged with cattle. At Shrewsbury, Medenham c was vouchsafed -.a; gleam of frosty humour by Mrs. Devar's " anxiety .lest her son \ might have obeyed her earlier injunctions, and kept tryst at the Raven after all. That trivial diversion soon passed. He hoped that Sylvia would share the front seat with him in the final run to Chester; but she remained tucked up in the tonneau, and tho dread that "kept her there was bitter-sweet to him, 1 iince it betrayed her increasing lack of confidence in herself. The rendezvous was at the Crosvenor Hotel, and -Medenham had made up his mind to act long before the red towers of Chester Cathedral glowed above the city's ' hazo : in the fiso of a magnificent sunset. Dale was waiting on the pavement when the Mercury drew up at the gall cried entrance to the hotel Medenham -leaped down. ' "Good-bye, Miss Vanrenen," he said, "holding: out his hand. "I can catch an ! early train to town by hurrying away at once. This is Dale, who will take my place. lie is thoroughly reliable, and an even more careful driver than I am." "Are you really going— that?" faltered Sylvia, and her face blanched at the suddenness of it. " Yes. I shall have the pleasure of seeing you in London when you return." ; Their hands met in a firm clasp. Mrs. • Devar, too flustered at first to gasp more than an". Oh of astonishment, leaned forward and shook his hand with marked cordiality. ' ' . , " You must tell Dale to take great care t)f us," she said knowingly. " I think he realises the exceeding trust I repose in him," he said, but the accompanying smile was meant for Sylvia, and she read into it a farewell that presaged many things. He disappeared without another word. When a slim, elegantly-gowned lady had hastened to the door from the drawingroom, whence she was summoned by a page, she found two dust-covered figures 0 an the act of alighting from a well-ap-pointed car. Her next glance was at the ■ solemn jowl of the chauffeur. "Sylvia, my darling girl!" she cried, jwith arms thrown wide. There could bo no doubting the heartiness of the greeting, and in that motherly embrace Svlvia felt a repose, a security, that she had been wilfully sceptical of during many weary hours. But polite usage called for an introduction, and Mrs. Leland and-Mrs. Devar eyed each other warily, with the smiles of convention. Mrs. Leland glanced at Dale. "And who is this?" she asked, seizing 'the opportunity to settle a point that was perplexing her strangely. " Our chauffeur,!' said Sylvia, and a glint of fun- showed through the wanness of her cheek's. "But not—not—"

Even smooth-tongued Mrs. Leland was i {it a loss. " Not Fitzroy, who left us a minute ago. This man's name is Dale. Onewonders-, though, how you knew—why you doubted," cried Sylvia in sharp discernment. " Pray why did Fitzroy leave you a minute ago?" was all that the- other woman could find to say. "Ho had to return to London. But, there— it is I who ought to ask questions. Let us go inside. I want to get some of the grit out of my eyes and hair; then I shall become an absolute mark of interrogationso I warn you. Of courec, I am delighted to see you; but queer things have happened, and I am pining to have them cleared up. When did you see father last? Is ho still in London?" Mrs. Leland answered with freer speech now, but in her heart she was saddened by Medenham's duplicity. Six months earlier she and tho earl bad dined at the villa she was occupying at San Remo for the winter.' Sho then took a great liking to him on account of his shy and reticent but singularly pleasing manners. She was prepared to laugh '■ at the present escapade when she had discussed it with him that night. 'Now he had fled, doubtless through fear. That was bad. That looked ugly and mean. Most certainly Peter Van- '.' renen had acted rightlv in bringing her post-haste from Trouville. She must use jwljfcier skill If mischief were to be avoided. -

CHAPTER XIII. WHEREIN WRATH BEGUILES GOOD JUDGMENT.

" Good mornin', George."

"Good morning, clad." '• | "Enjoy your run to Hereford?" ! Immensely. Did you?" "It was not so bad. Rather tiresome, you know, travellin' alone, but on the return journey I fell in with a decent sort of Frenchman who helped to pass the time." , " Monsieur Marigny, in fact? "Ah, you know him, of course. I had forgotten." " I have met him. He is not the sort of person I care to know," Tho earl selected an egg, tapped it. and asked his son what ho thought of the crops —did they want ruin? Tho two were breakfasting alone—at tho moment thoro was not even a man-servant in tho room — but Lord Fairholme had long ago established the solden rule that controversial topics were "taboo during meals. Modcnham laughed outright at the sudden change of topic. He remembered that Dale was sent to bed in tho Green Dragon Hotel at eight o'clock, and he had not the least doubt that his father's ukase was really a dodgo to secure an undisturbed dinner. But he was under no delusions because of this placid meeting in the breakfast-room. Thero was thunder in the air. _ Tomkuison had warned him of it overnight. " There's bin ructions while you were away, my lord," the butler had whispered, waylaying him in the hall just before midnight. Lady St. Mam- hasi unset the earl something dreadful;" and Medenham had growled in reply : " Her ladyship will lunch here at . one o'clock tomorrow, Tomkinson. Have an ambulance ready at two, for she will- be in little pieces beforo I have done with her. The mangling will bo somethink orful." "But what has become of Dale, my lord?" went on Tomkinson in a hushed voice. „'■'_■-,'■ "Dale? Ho is all right. Why? Is he in the soup, too?" ~ ■ , "No, my lord. I've k&ird nothink that, but he sent me a wire from Bristol — "A telegram— what?" '' About a horse." " Oh, the deuce take you and your horses. By the way, that reminds meyon gavo me" a rotten tip for the Derby." ■ "It was a false-run race, my lord. The favourite was swep' off his feet at Tattenham Corner, and couldn't get into his stride again till .the field was opposite Langlands Strands. After that—" "After that I'm going to bed. But I forgive, you, Tomkinson, You put up a ripping good lunch. You're a far better butler than a tipster." This brief conversation had illumined at least one dubious page in the records of the past few days. Medenliam realised now that his aunt had emptied the vials of her wrath on Mrs. Devar, but, that lady being absent in body, the earl had received the full close. - It indicated somewhat the line he should follow when, breakfast ended, his father suggested that they should smoke a cigarette in the library. Once there, and the door closed, the earl established himself on the hearth-rug with his back to the fire-place. It was high summer, and the lazy London heat crept in through tho open windows but the hearth constituted a throne, a seat of Solomon; had his lordship stood anywhere else he would have felt lacking in authority. ' " Now George, my boy, tell me all about it,", he said, with a genially paternal air that lent itself admirably to the discussion of a youngster's transgressions. Medenham had a sense of humour denied to his well-meaning sire.; He recalled the last time lie had heard those words. He and another sprig of nobility had come up to London from Winchester without leave, in order to attend a famous glove fight between heavy-weights, and there had been wigs on the green before an irate headmaster would even deign to flog them. That had happened twelve years ago, almost to a day. Since then he had fought through a great war, had circled the globe, had sought the wild places of earth and its monsters in their lairs. He knew men and matters as his father had never known them. A Prime Minister had urged him to adopt a political career, and had virtually promised him a colonial under-secret-aryship as soon as he entered Parliament. He held the D.5.0., had been thanked by the Royal Geographical Society for a paper on Kilimanjaro, and cordially invited by the Foreign Office to send in any further notes in his possession. Months later, he / heard that Sir Somebody Something was deeply interested in his comments on the activity of a; certain Great Power in the neighbourhood of Britain's chief coal-ing-stations in the Indian Ocean. The absurdity of a family conclave in which he should again be treated as a small boy, and admonished to apologise, and be flogged, while it brought a smile to his lips, ; banished any notion of angry remonstrance. ' " ,

"By ' all abjwt it' I .suppose you mean that you wish to hear what I have been doing since last Wednesday," he said pleasantly. " Well, dad, I have obeyed your orders. You asked me to find a wife worthy to reign at Fairholme. I have succeeded." .

" You don't mean to say you have married her!" shouted the earl, in a purple upheaval of rage, whose lightning-like abruptness was not its least amazing feature. Certainly Medenham was taken aback by it. Indeed, he was almost alarmed, though he had no knowledge of apoplexy in the family. " I have not even asked the lady yet," he said, quietly. "I hope—l think—that the idea will not be disagreeable to her but a future Countess of Fairholme is not to be carried by storm in that fashion. We must get to know her people—" "D— her people!" broke in the older man. "Have you taken leave of your wits, George, to stand there and talk such infernal nonsense?"

" Steady, dad, steady!" and the quiet voice grew still more calm, though the forehead wrinkled a little, and there was an ominous tightening of the lips. "You must take that back. Peter Vanrenen is quite as great a man in the United States as you are in England— I even say, without disrespect, a man who has won a more commanding position?—and his daughter, Sylvia, is better fitted to adorn a coronet than a groat many women now entitled to wear one."

The earl laughed, with an immoderate display of an amusement he was far from feeling. ; „. "Are these Wiggy Dovar's credentials? By gad, that shabby little -wretch is flying high when she tries to bag my son for her pretty protege." . " Don't you think it would be wiser, sir, if you allowed mo to tell you exactly what has taken place since we met last?" "What good purpose will that serve? I have heard the whole story from Lady Porthcawl, from Dale, from that Frenchman—and heavens knows I have been well coached in Mrs. Devar's antecedents by your aunt Susan. George, lam surprised that a man of your sound common-sense should permit yourself to bo humbugged so egregiously. Yes, yea, lam aware that an accident led you to take Simmonds's place in the 'first instance, but can t you eee that the Dcvar creature must have gone instantly on her bended knees— if she ever does pray, which I doubt— and thanked Providence for the chance that enabled her to dispose of an earldom"' -at a pretty stiff price, too, I'll be bound', if the truth were told. . Really, George, notwithstanding your very * extensive travels and wide experiences, you are nothing but a kid in the hands of a managing woman of the Dcvar variety " • I am not being given in marriage by Mrs. Devar, I assure you," began Medenham smiling anxiously, for the fatherly tell me all about it," was not being homo out by the earl's petulance c'l. x „ You can trust me to toko care of that. *

But are you treating mo quite fairly? Why should the distorted version of mv affairs given by Lady Porthcawl, a woman whom Sylvia Vanrenen could not possibly receive in her house, and by Count £.donard Mangny, a disappointed fortunehunter, be accepted without cavil, while my own story is not listened to? I leave Dale cut of it. I am sure he told you the actual truth" •

"By the way, where is he now?" "Somewhere in the neighbourhood of Chester, I believe."

"Have you discharged him?" "No—why should I?" "Because I wish it?"

"Why in the world are you so unreasonable, dad 2 -. .

"Unreasonable! By gad, I like that. Have I been gallivanting round the country with some "Stop! You are going too far. This conversation must cease here and now. If you have any respect for yourself, though not for mo, you must adjourn the discussion till after you have seen Miss Vanrenen and her father."

ITO be continued on Saturday next.)

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.