HIS FINAL CHOICE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18891, 13 December 1924, Page 5 (Supplement)

HIS FINAL CHOICE

BY ARTHUR AIT LIN.. Author of "The Greater Claim," "The Woman Who Doubted." "The Fare on the Screen," < tc.. etc.

(Copyright.)

CHAPTER 1

Colonel Carfax knocked his pipe out on the toe of his boot—a reprehensible habit to which theoretically lie objected as keenly as certi;in members of his club, but of which he had never been able to break himself—he yawned, stretched himself and looked at the clock: affectionately polishing the bowl of his pipe on his coat sleeve, .he slowly refilled and lit it.

"I believe you could have got on quite will without me. I don't believe I've ever been of the least use to you, and 1 shouldn't lie, surprised if in your heart of hearts you don't look upon me as an interfering if amiable old fool."

He grunted—another bad habit of which he had never been able to break himself, and which had earned him the nick-name of "Old Hippo"—and glared at the man sitting opposite him, young Sir Vane Dysart. some twenty years his junior, tall, long. lean, clean-shaven, with close-cropped dark brown hair and eves generally blue but as changeable as the colours of the sea.

Dysart was in the prime of life, hut everybody called him "Young" Dysart because he was one of those rare and happy individuals who never seem to take themselves or life seriously, and who therefore never grow up. He was an only son, both his parents died when he was fourteen years old —his first term at Harrow. They left him a meagre six hundred a year, sundry debts, and old Hippo as his guardian.

Colonel Carfax had loved Dysart's father, an Irish Baronet with more courage than common sense, and a heart far too big for his head. He had travelled many times round the world, fought in most of its countries, and knew the game of life with all the intricate, despicable and unlovely ways it could he placed from A to Z".

He had taken the guardianship of bis friend's sou very seriously, so seriously that if they lived to be old men together he would continue to look upon Vane as an irresponsible, delightful and altogether the lovable youth to be admonished and carefully protected.

" You aro a priceless old hypocrite," Dysart said. He had a pleasant voice with a curious thrill ill it when he was serious: infections with humour when gay, and sometimes, on rare occasions, it could be as tender as a woman's. It was very tender now though he used light words. " The times I've gone oft' the deep end and you've pulled me out rendered liistaid. and put me on my logs again! " " You have always pulled yourself out. confound you. Never given me a chance. It's not fair." He began to polish his pipe again—always a sign that he was deeply moved. "1 really thought 1 would have to come to your rescue this time, but off you go to llie Argentine, leaving your creditors howling like a pack of hungry wolves, and I'm hanged if you don't get engaged to the daughter of the richest and most prosperous citizen there. 'I he daughters of millionaires are not generally beautiful, but. report says the one and only Lala is absolutely fascinating She ought to be with some of the British and Spanish blood in her veins." Dysait lit a cigarette and lay back m his "chair with half closed eyes watching the blue smoke as it curled upwards. "She is original anyway. ('banning. She will twist von round her finger, Hippo. ' "You do love her. my boy? Hut of course you do. Couldn't many her n you didn't. Still, love's a queer thing, you know. The queerest thing m the 'world. Strangely enough it's the little loves that las! and the great_ ones that die o" burn themselves out." Dysart laughed. "You always warned me against, the divine passion and in the same breath advised me to find some nice sensible girl and settle down." ••Isn't that what I'm telling you now ? ' Carfax grunted. "The divine passion will never settle down. It goes off like a rocket towards the stars—and never gets there." "Well, I'm very fond of Lala. A sort of '.mutual recognition took place the moment we met. We were friends right away. I'm going to be perfectly frank with you Hippo.. I would have been just, as fond of her if her father hadn't had a bean in the world. But the knowledge that one day she would inherit his millions made a difference . . . especially under the circumstances. 1 ve let you 'down pretty badly. Hippo." Carfax pushed back the ends of his thick, closely cropped moustache. "Nonsense. 1 shoved you into that business in the city. You did your best. You worked hard, very hard. If 1 chose to put money into a thing that turned out a failure that's my affair. If you mention it. again I shall be really angry. But it's an ill wind. If you hadn't gone into the business you would never have met the Prime Minister and been offered the seat at St. George's. You will simply romp home at the general election next year, my boy. Play your cards carefully, and it will mean a seat in the Cabinet, eventually. I shall be proud of you. I knew I should be proud of you one day."

But Dysart sighed so gently the older uian did not hear. "Funny thing, life. Yesterday failure threatened me ; I saw friends 'deserting, bankruptcy pending. To-morrow wealth unimaginable, a seat in Parliament, and, I suppose, a house in Park Lane. Funny. Mansfold insists on/ Park Lane."

"To the Argentine Park Lane spells Paradise. And that's good enough for his daughter. By the way. weren't they to arrive to-jlay ?" Dysart rose and stood with his hack to the fire. Though it was April the fickle English spring had brought snow and sleet and storijjy winds with which to herald May. lie stood listening to the gusts which shook the trees in St. James' .Square, the intermittent Hurry of rain on the windows. "'Their ship was due at Southhampton last night. Been expecting a wire all day." "Had weather in the Atlantic has delayed them, I expect," Carfax replied. "Needn't worry. Happiest thing in life is expectation ; waiting is the cocktail that gives zest to the feast! By gad, I almost envy you." '"Almost''" Dysart laughed. Carfax leaned forward, staring into the glowing embers of the fire. He had his dreams: lie was wondering whether they were not the best things a man could possess. They remained all else went. One could take them to tire grave.

'Well, it's about time you turned in," he said abruptly. "Just a night cap and I'll walk with you to King Street." He laid his hand on Dysart's shoulder. "Your last six weeks as a bachelor, my hoy ! Make the most of them. You are going to he happy —I insist on your being happy, d'you hear !"

"1 have always been happy, thanks to you." Dysart said; looking affectionately at the old man. "I've never known a dull moment since. I left school. My only fear is lest when Lala gets over here, she wants to settle down. Park Lane; political life, society. Carfax, I must have adventure. 1 1 don't want to grow up." Carfax emptied his glass. "Just like your father. Well, conic along. . .By Jove, hark at the wind! I bet there's a nasty sea running in the channel."

Hail drove with the rain across the square; whore the lamplight shone on the pavements countless jewels danced. The wind came whistling down all four streets that led into the square, meeting in the centre, tearing the young leaves from the trees, breaking off the tender branches. As the doors <>f the club swung behind the two men they stood for a moment on the pavement, bracing themselves after the soft warm luxury they had just left to meet the storm.

••What about a cab '.'" Dysart shouted. Old Hippo lived in Knightsbridgc. "I have half a mind to walk.'' Carfax replied. "I like this; bracing. Lord. there's a hurricane Wowing somewhere." He took Dysait's arm. "Come along,

walk with me to the Piccadilly tube. Do you good." The streets were almost deserted. Here and there bent figures beat their way East or West. Taxis rushed, .spurting greasy mud from beneath their wheels; limousines slid noiselessly through -the storm, their illuminated interiors looking strangely unreal and fairy like through the rain, showing through the streaming glass the outline of a lovely face, pearls gleaming against snow-white skins: flowers, the fash of an eye. laughing red lips. And in contrast huddled against the dark entrance to a shop some unfortunate outcast, with folded arms and bowed head, hugging the warmth of her It was midnight, but Piccadilly Circus was still blazing. Brilliant lights and electric standards showed clouds racing overhead. Nearly all the buildings were illuminated by fiery signs in green and gold and blue, burning into men's minds the virtr.es of Deepsca soap, the healing properties of Bink's pills, the only certain way to salvation. Imitations to dance or dine or sup. The wheels of fiery motor ears revolving ceaselessly; champagne frothing from flaming bottles. Cascades of fire potired down from one of the loftiesl buildings. Neither the howling wind nor the torrents of lain could deaden or extinguish this bizarre and comic conflagration fired by man's inventive genius— and greed. Carfax and Dysart were blown into the entrance of the tube. They shook the raindrops from their faces and turned to stare for a moment a! the Circus. It looked like some tawdy jewel on the breast of a dark-skinned ogress. ''Don't feel inclined to turn in now. That little walk has wakened me up," Carfax grunted, iJysart nodded. "A storm always makes me feel unsettled. Let's—lot's go on somewhere. " Carfax grunted, brushing back the ends of his moustache. "My boy. you're going to be married in a week or two. Besides, where do you propose to go at this hour ';'' He was conscious, too. that the storm had disturbed him, made him restless. To be carried down into the bowels of the earth and be pushed through a tube to bed! The boisterous, mad, merry old wind seemed to mock the narrow ways of civilised man. He had travelled far, that adventurous wind, stirring the ocean to anger, hiding in the depth of dark forests, swooping across the burning desert sands, stealing into the lovely palaces of Eastern potentates, learning their strange secrets, carrying some of them away. That was why the wind laughed so loudly; though cold, its breath was sweetly scented. "They are sure to anise to-morrow. I think I'll say good-bye lo Bohemia tonight.", (To be continued daily.)