A GOODLY HERITAGE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18862, 10 November 1924, Page 3

A GOODLY HERITAGE.

BY L. G. MOBEELY. (Copyright.) (CHAPTER XXHI. THE CROWN. " I think I need not introduce you 0 Mr. Fane. You and be already know ach other.'" The tall, charming mistress of Garsrood, Mrs. Denby, Elizabeth's neighbour .nd hostess, looked at the girl with a mile as Derrick Fane came into the Irawing room. " I might almost claim that Miss Leser and I are old friends," he said lightly, haking hands with Elizabeth, V and Miss jester and my mother are very great dlies." " I think your mother is the dearest )ld lady I ever met," was Elizabeth's inswer. " When I first saw her, months tgo at Mrs. Dudley's party, I lost my leart to her, and I have never taken it sack." " And twice in the winter you went to :ea with her when I was out —which was, [ consider, taking a mean advantage," Fane laughed. " I should have liked to show you my books and my most precious engravings. You must come again, when you are next in town. Probably you won't be up until May or June?" " Mrs. Gifford has asked me to go to her this year, instead of taking a house; and I think I shall accept her invitation. 1 would rather be with her than in a house of my own with a new chaperon— and Mrs. Thompson is to be married on the first of June." " You are not coming up for the whole season?" " I don't want to be away in May. Last May I was in town all the time, and it seemed such a waste! Two years ago, when I had just inherited Bransway I spent the whole of May there, and it was the first time I had ever been in the country when all the hawthorn was in flower! It was like fairyland—just as it is now." Her glance turned towards the wide open French window through which was visible the old-world garden which surrounded Garswood House—a fine specimen of Tudor architecture not less oldworld than the garden. Outside the window the wistaria was in flower, its penetrating fragrance drifted into the drawing room, and the scent of wallflowers from the great bed that ran round the house mingled with the sweetness of the wistaria. Beyond the shrubberies the orchard was visible, a cloud of apple blossom delicately pink and white against a background of blue sky. "You love the country?" Fane asked, noting the dreamy rapture of her face, and she turned to him with a happy laugh. " I love every bit of it," she answered. " Until I began to live in the country I never realised how much I minded the greyness and drabness of London. And yet there is something lovable about London, too," she added thoughtfully. " My mother and I flatter ourselves we have contrived to get the very best London can offer. We have our St. John's Wood house with its not over ideal garden ; and I spend part of every day in my room at the Temple, which is the con- ! centrated essence of the old city itself. I should like to show you my room down there. It looks out across a green lawn and plane trees to the river. It is one of the most inspiring places I know." " I often wish I could still type your books. It was quite queer to read the two last ones only after they were in print, not knowing anything about them beforehand." The talk drifted on in pleasant desultory fashion, but Elizabeth dimly realised a. certain constraint between them. The subtle, indescribable Bense of deep friendship had gone; in some inexplicable way she felt that a barrier had arisen between herself and Fane—a barrier which she was powerless to break down. The discovery that she and Fane were to be fellow guests Jn Mrs. Denby's house for the week-end had given the girl a vivid sensation of pleasure. Bute the pleasure had been sadly dulled during the days at Garwood. Fane was courteous, even friendly, but there was an intangible something lacking. "I feel as if he were holding me at a distance," Elizabeth thought, as she dressed for dinner on the last night of her stay. "He almost seems as if he were afraid of me. But why ?" She was standing in front of the dressing table, and as her eyes met their own reflection in the glass she drew herself up with a little gesture of pride. "Does he think I want to run atfer him, or to try and get more of his friendship than he wants to give?—l am not a man hunter!" The very thought brought a flash of indignant colour into her face—her eyes shone almost fiercely "He needn't be afraid,' 'she whispered, her chin tilting upwards with a small, determined jerk. "He needn't take so much trouble to show me he only want me as a friendly acquaintance; and I wish now that I hadn't seemed pleased that he should come over to see Bransway on Thursday with the Denbys." Fane was remaining at Garswood after the departure of the other guests, and Mrs. Denby had suggested that he should motor with them to see Elizabeth's house on his way back to town. Elizabeth had cordially agreed to the suggestion, but now with rather a sinking heart she felt • that all the glory had gone out of the anticipated delight of showing her beautiful home to the novelist. "It will be horrid," she reflected dolefully, "and I can't bear his chilling, distant politeness. He was more really friendlv the very first time I met him in the A.'B.C." She left Garswood next day wiir, curiously mixed feelings—relief that a strained situation was coming to an enc mingling with a sinking of the heart foi which she resolutely refused to acoounl to herself. "He was just polite, polite, polite," hei thoughts ran 6n as the car carried hei swiftly homewards, and the purring en gine seemed to echo her thoughts. "Anc it was only chilly politeness, chilly, chill} politeness. I suppose to him I seem lik< a silly little schoolgirl and he wants U choke me off." And then the indignanl colour (lamed into her face again; and hei eyes gleamed angrily; and her small chir went ud with a gesture of outraged pride "And I'm glad Rosie will be at Brans way." her thoughts ran on inconsequentlv thongh what was her reason for this vicious little satisfaction in picturing Fane and Rosie as fellow guests in her houst she did not attempt to define. This was Rosie's first visit to Bransway for although Elizabeth—never forgetful o old friends or of past kindnesses —hnc sent more than one invitation to th» good-natured typist, first one thing anc then another had prevented Bosie frotr accepting the invitations. And it was s very awe-stricken Rosie—a Hosie reducec to an almost paralysed silence who finallj arrived at the Court on the day following Elizabeth's return from Garswood. What precisely she had expected to find it is hard to say—probablv something between a small suburban villa and a creeper covered cottage as described in her : favourite penny novelettes. She was certainly quite luiorepared for anything'in the least resembling Branswav: and by the time she had crossed the hall iii Lawson's wake, and found herself in the big drawing room she was reduced to a condition of stupefied amazement. "Please forgive me for not coming myself to meet you." Elizabeth's eager welcoming voice aroused her from that hrst paralysis of surprise. "Some people came to call just when I ought to have "Urtrf. I did so want to have met yon and showed you all my favourite views as we came along."

"My gracious!" Rosie found her voice , '. f with difficulty."l never thought you'd -SB got a place like this! The old gentleman fgl that opened the door to me made me feel ml a bit all-overish the way he looked 'at. j§l me as if I wasn't there." JM "Lawson wouldn't think it right to |j show any particular, feeling about any- ■•Jffl thing," 'Elizabeth laughed. , "Ho has f|l made passive stolidity a fine art. -He t$J hardly ever unbends." jJM "And fancy you being mistress of all ||1 this," Rosei said breathlessly, her glance ga travelling round the drawing room, her £■ eyes still full of awe, "and'all that great ftl park too and those gardens. My gracious, i|J I'd like to see what old Hinds would S think of it all. Her eyes would drop out Jfl if she could look round here, and if she m remembered how she treated you, the M bullying old cat, she'd be ready to give | ■ herself a jolly good hiding." m "Poor Miss Hinds." Elizabeth smiled \ reminiscently. "She was rather nasty to \ me, but after all she didn't hurt me much." "Old beast," Rosie said shortly, "She's I just as bad as ever, only her hair's got more the colour of rancid butter and she puts the paint so thick on her face you could scrape it off with a knife. When I get back I shall tell her all about yon and this place. My lawks, won't she sit up and snort and wish she hadn't treated : \| you like the dirt under her feet!" ! Rosie's unfeigned delight in her new environment—her naive surprise in everything at Bransway Court—gave Eliza- i beth very real pleasure. The vulgar, ; good-hearted girl had been so unfailingly kind to her during those troublous days in the typewritinggeflice, that it pleased her to make Rosie's stay at Bransway thoroughly happy, and this was no dim- i cult matter. (To be continued daily.) T .. ■ ,