THE MAN FROM THE WEST.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 19625, 2 May 1927, Page 16

THE MAN FROM THE WEST.

BY EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS.

CHAPTER Vll.—(Continued.) Without, of course, knowing what had been discussed, or realising in any way that the arrangement fox- his wedding had been lacking in the usual ceremonies, Kenneth Coilingford had accepted all that had been done willingly. If he had been asked to explain what his feeling had been for Cathleen Lerrington, he would have said that it seemed to him that she had brought suddenly into ihs life elements of beauty End charm which he had never before even imagined existed. The first time he had seen her, the boy's heart had gone'out to her: he thought she was the most lovely creature he had ever looked upon in human flesh, or in pictures. Cathleen Lerrington did indeed possess unusual beauty, a delicate beauty with something exquisite about it. And when he had been informed by her father that this gill .(this wonderful girl!) had actually fallen in love with him, why it just went to his head like wine, and all his innate commonsense, his practical reasoning, had been swept away by the extraordinary emotion which crowded his mind when lie had realised the amazing thing that had happened to him! When they were together, and he had tried to speak without stammering, it is true lit; had felt the coldness which had enveloped Cathleen rise as a palpable barrier between them. Still there had never dawned, in his mind even a suggestion that he was distasteful to her; or that there was anything wrong. Just for a little while Kenneth had lived like a man in a dream! Wandering about by himself in the park, or riding out far from the big busy street's on the top of an omnibus, he had been lost in wonderment, so hypnotised by the marvel that he should be loved, that he never tried to grasp the full significance of what was happening. But in the hours that had gone by in this very memorable and unpleasant day, all that had been so vague and yet so wonderful had been swept away and truth, a brutal ugly truth, had been made clear to him. He was thankful to realise that he was a stranger in a strange city, and that there was no one to point a finger at him and to scorn him, as he scorned himself! Even as he sat talking to the Westovers, he asked himself with a rush of now bitterness what they would think if they oould know all that had happened ? And he registered a vow to himself that as far as he was concerned neither they nor anyone else who might come into his life should ever know how cruelly he had been disillusioned, When the Westovers got up to go, he walked with them to the entrance, and then it was that Evelyn Westover asked him what he was doing that evening. " Why, I don't know. I guess I'll do what I generally do . . . just dine and walk around the blocks a bit." " That sounds rather dull, doesn't it? " Miss Westover said, looking up at him with her> delightful smile. " Why not come and dine with father and me ? We are not staying at one of these big hotels. We always go to some rooms which father has been to for a great many years: I can promise you that the cooking is excellent."

" Why, you are very kind," Coilingford said a little awkwardly. Suddenly the thought had flashed back to him that the time was drawing near for him to meet Patricia, and as he did not know what the outcome of that meeting was going to be, he felt a disinclination to fix himself up in any way. Seeing his hesitation Colonel Westover came to his rescue.

" Oh well, we are in town until the end of the week, so perhaps you'll dine With us to-morrow night. And then Evelyn and I will be so glad if you will come down and stay with us, Kenneth. We've only a little place in the country, but I think I can manage to give you a day or so with the hounds. I suppose you hunt ? " 1

A smile broke out on Kenneth Colling ford's attractive face.

" Why, sure no. I guess I don't, hunt, sir. I ride some, that's true, but I guess T don't ride in proper fashion for this country." " Well anyhow you'll come down and stay with us, won't you ? " said Miss Westover, and she put out her hand. " And please let us know if you'll dine with us to-morrow night ? " She gave him the address. "They call it an hotel." she added, " but they are really only suites of rooms. Yoy can ring me up in the morning. Or I'll ring you up, that'll be better still! " CHAPTER VIII. A car was waiting for Colonel Westover and Ins daughter, and as they drove away in it; they were silent for a little vvlme. Then the daughter spoke. " Well! " she said. " He's a bit of a mouthful to swallow! But we've got to swallow him 1 And got to do it quickly too! Because although he's so clumsy and practically impossible, ho isn't bad looking, father." " 1 should say not," Colonel Westover answered. " He's a good-looking chap, very like his poor father. With a little polish, I predict he'd be run after pretty considerably."

Againg there was a silence, and it was Miss Westover who broke it.

" What do you suppose he's worth ? " she queried.

Her father shrugged his shoulders. "T can't give even a guess. But from the tone of those letters from San Francisco, 1 can gather he's got a tidy bit coming in from that mine and likely to come in too."

" And all wasted," 'said Evelyn Westover bitterly and with anger. " Isn't life the ugiiest conundrum 1 Just think of that boor, that wild man of the woods, having unlimited money, and we don't know which way to turn ! Father, you've got to do something." "Why do you turn to me?" queried her father irritably. " Why not plav the game yourself? I'm not much use, Eve, in this sort if business. I draw the line at touting after young men for what they have got." His daughter answered him hotly, passionately.

" You're always grumbling, declaring that you've always wanted a chance! We are up to our eyes in difficulties. We haven't even enough money to pay for this car we've hired, and if we get away this time without having to leave our valuables behind, I shall think we're lucky! Yet now that something comes into our life, the biggest chance that vou've ever had, von don't want to take it."

Colonel Westover relapsed into silence, lie was so accustomed to be harangued angrily bv his daughter. It might truly be said that he was a disappointed man. He had started out on his career with every prospect of making something of his life, but he had married early, and it had been an unfortunate marriage. His wife had been of Italian extraction, she was a singer and at the time of their marriage she had been osi the wave of snccess, and had been earning a great deal of money, but as quickly as she had made money, so she spent it, and her husband had gaily enough helped her to do this. There had been three children, of which Evelyn had been the eldest. The second girl had died in infancy, and the only son from first to last had beers nothing but a great disappointment. He had been expelled from a public school, he had been sent down from Oxford, he had enlisted at the time of the war. but there had been some unpleasant matter attached to money, and despite his bravery (for lie had shown he had some stuff in him) young Michael Westover had been dismissed from the service. The latest news that his father and his sister had of him was that he had drifted on to the stasie and that he was living in a precarious existence. His father made him a small allowance. Colco«l Westover was an impoverished man. The monies attached to an estate he had inherited h.vi b<*en smiamkred by hi* predecessor, and lie really possessed nothing but his pension, a load of obligations and a mortgaged house in which to live. His wife

(COPrmciiT.)

had left him a grea* many years before and he had divorced her. She had been his one and only romance, and he had tried to pass on the love which he had lavished on her to his daughter. But though Evelyn had started out well, too, and had been a gieat success as a beauty and a clever girl, she had also been a great disappointment. It might be said in her favour that life had not treated her kindly. When she had been introduced to society and had been very young, she had been engaged to be married to a man in the Navy, a member of a very big family with not only prospects of promotion, but of great wealth coming to him later on, and this man had been drowned. There had been other admirers, but none to take her lover's place and at the moment there was no one in her life for whom she had the slightest interest. For she was now a very ambitious woman and craved to break away from her present existence.. The men whom she met in the hunting field and who came to stay now and then in the country with her father were none of then in a position to give her all she considered was due to her. She had a way of snubbing people (especially one man who paid court to her quietly and persistently) and in consequence Miss Westover was not too popular. More than once she had had the mortification of seeing some girl far less physically endowed pass her by and secure a good husband, and this "did not tend to soften her. Now a real chance had come her way! Despite the fact that she was a good six to seven years older than Kenneth Colli ngford, she was resolved not to let this young man slip out of her reach, for most assuredly if she did not marry him, lie would he caught hv some othef woman and probably by a very undesirable type of woman. So as she passed up the stairs to her bedroom, this young woman was telling herself that if her father did not intend to make the best use of the chance which had fallen into their hands so unexpectedly, she was not going to follow in his footsteps! She intended to annex Kenneth Collingford and his wealth with as little delay as possible. CHAPTER IX. Patricia felt herself growing decidedly nervous, even frightened, as the time drew near for her to slip away from the house and go to meet Kenneth Collingford. Her# father had come home about halfpast five; she had been on the top of the stairs, and as she watched him coming up those stairs very, very slowly, and caught a glimpse of his white, tir'ed face, the girl's love and desire to sympathise with him pressed almost like a pain on her heart, and gave her courage to slip into her outdoor things and make her way out of the house as quietly as possible. She did this without attracting any attention from the servants, and she almost ran to the corner of the street, where she got an omnibus that would take her close to the hotel. Patricia never had much pocket money, and the cab she had taken in the morning had exhausted what little she had, so she had to travel by bus. When she got out of >the conveyance, and walked toward the street where she thought she would find the young man, all her nervousness rushed back to her, and when she suddenly saw a very tall figure coming toward her, she was trembling froa head to foot. In fact, as he took her hand in his and felt it shake, Collingford longed to put somß strength and comfort into this voung creature. "Say!" he said. "It's a bit raw and the wind's right cold. I guess I won't keep you walking around the block. Isn't there some place we can go and sit and talk ? Have you had any food today ?" " Yes, a little," Patricia answered. " Well now, it's up to you,'' said the young man. " I'm a stranger round about heres and I don't know where we can find a place where we can sit quiet for a little while."

" There's a Lyons shop at the top of the street," Patricia said. " I've been there once. 11 don't think anybody takes any notice of anybody else in a place like that. But of" course you're so big," she added, " you're sure to attract attention." At this he laughed, and the sound of his laughter set. a warm rush through Patricia's tired, weary heart: it sounded so natural and kindly. " Well, I'd be mighty glad to oblige you by coming down an inch or two, but I'm not sure how I'd set about doing it." He was still holding Patricia's hand. He had taken it once again when they crossed the road and he had steered her clear of the traffic and he did not let it go. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to have her hand in his. He was glad to have the chance of doing something, and he fully determined before they parted that he was going to make this girl realise there was nothing she had to be afraid of where he was concerned. Besides, it gave him great pleasure to realise he was taking care of her. He had just the same feeling on him as lie had out on the ranch when he had to tend a vourig calf. They found the teashop practically empty and they sat down in a corner. When the waitress come forward for the order he looked at her and ho looked at Patricia.

" I guess we'll have coffee. I'm no great hand at your tea. And isn't there something you'd like to eat?" " I'm not hungry," said Patricia. Rut to that lie answered inelegantly: " Rats! I know signs when I see era. And I guess you're all out to have some good food. What do you say, miss?" he queried, looking up at the waitress. She laughed as she nodded her head. " Well, she does look a bit peeky. Why not have two poached eggs and some buttered toast ?"

" That's the game," exclaimed Collingford, " and same here. I'll have my dinner right along with you," he added. " It's mighty dull by myself, Patsy, in that great big hotel, and" I guess pretty surely that with such an upset going on in your home, there isn't likely to he much fuss about a dinner to-night, is there ?" "Oh, 1 don't know," Patricia answered. " Life is so funny," she added. " I suppose the servants will carry on just the same, but. I am perfectly sure daddy won't, lie able to come down to dinner. I saw him just before I came out. He's looking terrible."

" Now see here," said Collingfon3. " You just leave off worriting about your father. Don't you trust me, Patsy ?" The girl caught her breath, brushed away her tears, and then looked up at him with rather a pathetic smile. " Sure," she answered, quoting his particular expression.

" Well then, let it go at that. 1 ain't quite certain in my mind what line I aim to take with father, but this much goes, Patsy—if 1 deal with him pretty severe, it'll be all for his good. Seems like there's something of 3 boy | about him, just plays games, haSri't never i taken anything serious. That's how I | read him, but I bet he's got mighty good ! qualities all the same. And I don't bear t him no grudge. As 1 told vcu this ! morning," CoQirsgford said, " if" I could ! be so blind' as 'tV rib "my neck into a ' noose, well, I guess it's just as much I to me to meet. things as it is for the \ chap who beiri the noose! So"—he! patted her hand—"you eat, get some colour into those cheeks; look' a little i hit hke what I am certain sure you do t look like, or did look like before all? thi* happened, and t heart. Why, I honey, you don't suppose, do von," be" ! queried gently, stooping his head to look j into Patricia's face, "I'm the sort of 1 guy that would act mean when your j mother's lying ill ?" And she answered him ■ quietly : " No, Kid. I don't think you are that • sort of man. That's why I "like yon." j His face lit up and he laughed a j second time. 44 Why, sure, and that's just the ! splendidist thing I've heard this lons ! whiles! You like me. I like you. That's] a fine beginning, isn't it." (To lw continued daily,) 1