HIS FINAL CHOICE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18897, 20 December 1924, Page 25 (Supplement)

HIS FINAL CHOICE

BY' ARTHUR APPLIX.. Author of '-The Greater Claim," "The "Woman "Who Doubted." ''The Face on the Screen," etc., etc.

(Copyright.) CHAPTER VII. The Golden Apple is a small French restaurant. It stands at the commencement of one of the narrow thoroughfares in Soho and is noted for its good catering, its moderate prices, and the originality of its clientele. Fortunately, perhaps, it is not everyone who appreciates the cuisine there, and the habitues do their best to discourage strangers. The best restaurant becomes spoilt, when it becomes popular. The Golden Apple was famousto a certain setbut it had not reached the downward path of popularity. Night after night the same people were to be met there; artists, actors and actresses, authors and journalists, a sprinkling from the great world and the half world. There was a pleasant babble of conversation carried on in several languages. The lighting was subdued, the service quiet. Carfax had telephoned for a table. He called for Mansfold at his hotel and was kept waiting, so it was five minutes past seven when they arrived at the restaurant. " Queer place—just the sort of cafe that would appeal to Lala," Mansfold said. " I'll walk up and down. You won't keep me waiting too long, will you, Carfax?" I'll get over my explanations as quickly as I can, but it's rather a delicate business and you see 1 can't take anything for granted." Ho did not want to be hurried. He was beginning to wish be had persuaded Mansfold to wait at his hotel. The restaurant consisted of two rooms connected by a, short flight of stairs. The table Hippo had ordered was in the inner room. He felt a little nervous and curiously excited as he crossed the floor and seated himself at his table. Fortunately Dolores was late. She was woman enough to have no respect for time. To Old Hippo unpunctuality. was a sin in men but a virtue in women—unless carried to excess. He ordered a bottle of Burgundy, Romanee, and chose a small but pleasant, little dinner of four courses. The hands of the clock pointed to a quarter past seven when he saw Dolores coming up the stairs. She recognised him at once and sat beside him on the settee against the wall without the least trace of embarrassment.

lie's out of town looking for his fiancee. She had disappeared." "How exciting. I'm beginning to understand. Is'that why you sent for me." "The father of the missing young lady wants to meet you. He's waiting outside." He glanced at the clock. The half hour had expired. "May I bring him in V "Of course! Poor man, fancy leaving him out there while we've been enjoying a lovely dinner. But perhaps yon had better tell me what ho wants nic to do before I meet him V "He must tell you himself. I don't quite know what he wants. I believe he's clinging to the hope that you're his daughter as a drowning man clings to a straw." Dolores shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I wish I were. I'm nobody's daughter. Just a child of fortune. I only arrived in London about a week ago, and Mr. Lamotte's my only friend. I met him while he was working in Paris a year or two ago. But do bring in poor Mr.—you haven't told me his name Hippo neither knew nor cared now whether Mansfold wished to hide his identity. He told Dolores, and as he rose to leave the restaurant he saw her beckon to a waiter and give him a hurried order. He found .Mansfold standing on the opposite, side of the road chewing the end of an unlit cigar. Directly he saw Carfax he hurried t,o his side: " Well—is it she?" Carfax shook his head. As he feared Mansfold had been buoying himself up with false hopes. Throwing his cigar away he took Hippo's arm. leaning heavily on it. There was something pathetic, almost childlike in his disappointment. "Where is she?" he whispered as they crossed the restaurant. Carfax pointed to his table. Dolores was reading a newspaper, which hid her face. Only when Carfax spoke, introducing Mansfold, did she put it down. She smiled, held out her hand—then he saw a frown knitting her smooth brows. Mansfold 'did not take, the preferred hand. He stood quite still, staring at her. the blood slowly ebbing from his cheeks, leaving them white. He sat down heavily in the chair a waiter placed. Dolores handed him the newspaper at which she had been looking, indicating it photograph on the back page. It was a picture of Lala. " Mr. Lamotte showed me that in the studio this morning. 1 really believe he thought I was living a double life for a few moments. It's extraordinary isn't it?" Mansfold nodded. He. seemed dazed. He was reading the caption beneath the photograph : ".Miss Lala Mansfold. whose marriage., to Sir Vane Dysart will be one of the principal events of the season. Mr. Hubert