A GOT-UP THING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20595, 20 June 1930, Page 3

A GOT-UP THING.

Ej AXNTE I. 0. TIBBITS.

j | Mary lifted her head. Her face wa i J veiy white, and she clenched her bauds t | j prevent them trembling as she met the ol t i doctor's eyes 11 " Yes, 1 shall marry Captain Teab h no-"," she said unsteadily. " He—h 1 j spoke last night, and I—" | She got up suddeniy, and timed froi j Dr. Grey's searching look. ! " 1 said yes," she added, abruptly. " | remembered—it breaks my heart to r< i j member how father has wished it and bo* | j obstinate I have teen, and now—his las I wish—oh, I must. It will make him s , happy, and I—i shan't hare many mo: chances cf making him happy. I Her voice broke, and the doctor got at and going over to ber, put his hands o her shoulder. " But this young man, Mary," he suk | " Yea think you will be happy wit II " I Marv hesirated. Xl*.3n for lather' ! sake she acted a lie ! j "Do you think I shall not V she cried ! " Surely he's all I could wish ? Ch, ye; I—l shall bs happy." Dr. Grey locked dissatisfied as he turne away. It was prejudice no dcubi, but hi did cot like the Honourable Arthur Tenby and in his eyes he vras not a fair mate; for the sir! who would soon be the mis tress cf Treherne Court. He frowned out of the window at th< stretch of lawn, and the empty beds ape; | it. A few weeks ago they had 'oeei j gay with summer Sowers, and now ; j change in the weather had brought- ail tht l desolation cf winter upon the garden. I: reminded him of the change that had com< over the house in as short a time. He turned again to Mary. She wa; starine out cf the window, too, seeing ugly tilings on the patch of grass—she sai . Geoffrey Kaye, thrown from his horse j dead or dying on an empty road, and sh< | saw tije face of the man she was go-in: to marry and behind it the face of thf j man she loved. | She shivered a little in spite of her rej solve. Her marriage with Arthur Tenbj | had always been her father's fondest wish, i He was cf good family—the son cf a lord. | and marrying with him seemed a wonderfully good thing for the adopted daughter of Geoffrey Kaye, even though she would De rich when he diecL Geoffrey Kaye had adopted her wholly when she was three years old, and for nearly twenty years she had been a daughter indeed to him. Now he had ! been suddenly thrown from fais horse | and was dying slowly in the great house, and* Mary, remembering his grrai wish to I see her married to a title, had accepted j Arthur Tenby, because in a week or so—- ; perhaps 1a less —she would never have anI ether chance of giving happiness to the ! old man who had been in every way a father to her. She had told him toe same night what she bad done, and the smile that had dashed into ' his face had seemed to her, reward encash, until next day, and then with the dayiizht came the memory of another man. "and that morning life seemed ' an ngiy outlook to her. Drf Grey turned from the Sower-beds and looked at her. " Geoffrey would only want it if be thought you would be happy." he said. " Yon knew he loves vo-u as much as it vcu were his own daughter. Mary faced round quickly. " On, I know—l know." she cried, brokenly. " But I am—l shall be happy." Dr. G'rey pulled his beard. A week ago he had seen Mary and another man—Dick Marione, together, and their attitudes told something that Many would net have confessed for worlds. He rem ember ec it new. and that Dick was poor and hi frowned aijain. A few minutes later someone came iron: the sick room to tell him that Mr. Eays was rousing, and be and Mary went is uosretlier. His keen eyes told hirr» at once that the ch_ange he had expected had occurred. Mr. Kaye was sinking fast. His hands travelled restlessly over tbe counterpane, f Mary bent over him. i " The will,"' be cried feebly, " I want | to sign " He pointed to a table c-n which were seme papers. Dr. Grey brcucht thgm and a pen and ink, and putting them before him, held him up while he scratched bis name feebly on the parchments Dying men have strange fancies sometimes, and it had been Mr. Kaye's fancy during the last, few hours to make a fresh will, and to do it without a lawyer. No one could understand why, but he had been unaccountably restless until it was done. Now his dying eyes stared dimly at his feeble signature, and his fingers dropped the pen. Bead it," he said slowly, and Dr. Grey obeyed. It was apparently tbe same as ins other will which was at tie moment in bis lawyer's office, and this had only been dene in order to bumcur a dying man. Dr. Grev read it carefully. " The last will of me, Geoffrey Have," tbe sick man repeated slowly. " Yes—everything—my daughter Mary—everything to my daughter Mary." He fell back and stretched cut bis band. " Take it away new," be said. " Put it in my desk yonder. I shan't be long now." Dr. Grey obeyed, and Mary took her father's hand " Qh, father, father," she cried under her breath. He looked into her face. "Mv good little girl, be said slowly. " Mv ~cood little girl. You'll always remember. Mary—l want you to be nappy ? You'll remember that?" Marv's eves filled,'and she out ber head down on the pillow beside him to hide 11. A few days later Geoffrey Kaye was dead, and a few days later still Mary sat facing a small croup cf people m the iibrarv in Treherne Court. She looked whiter than ever in ber biacti mourning frock, and her eyes were heavy and red rimmed. . " i suppose it is ail right, she said weanlv ' If Mr. Guest is satisfied I shall Lot dispute it. Oh I couldn't dispute it." , The woman who faced ber mied per boldlv She was a dark tiiKiciy set woman", as unlike the ia:-e_ Geoffrey Kave as it was possible to be. Vet nevariheie" there seemed to be not tne sughtest doubt that she was his daughter. Mr. Guest, the solicitor, and old Dr. <-rey kaa 'ned-'to ond some ila'v in ber story but it seemed right enough. " twenty five years ago Mr. Kaye's wife had deserted inm, tailing with her he* two-year-old baby. They bad been very poor auii Mrs. Kaye bated poverty as Sercelv as foolish empty-beaded women do sometimes hate it. i" vva - Kave's one strong emotion—hatred or rp»~ n.-.vertv which kepi her trim the luxuries ci'life, and she left it for what sbe stupidiv believed was far better. When Mr. Kave got bis divorce she married again, only to plunge some years later when her second husband had run through his fortune, into poverty deeper ej.:,! ipoarentiv, it broke her heart, for stie died leaving hei chizd iO tbe care of tier husband —an adventurer, swindler and thief. How they had lived since ber mother's •Heath Claudia Kaye did not care to say, but she had come upon Treherne Court bv accident («o she informed them*, had probably" tried to blackmail Mr. Kaye and would do doubt have tried again bad he not met with the accident be did. She had seen h:m and spoken to him she said and he had owned her as his daugnter. Now, see claimed the estate, and both Mr Guest, and Dr Grey were disheartened and troubled, for the last will Mr Kn<had made had upset everything and played itraighi into the hands of the woman oe-

A SHQ2T STO3Y.

(COPYRIGHT.)

j fore them. For be had .distinctly j written his " daughter" instead cf his j "adopted daughter" as he had meant to | do. His other wills each bad ** adopted'" ; prefixed, but this last—that strange fancy to re-write his will bad undone evgry- | thing. ! And it was so absolutely unnecessary—- | unless indeed the memory of tbe past had j streeted fcim and made him wish to re- | instate bis own daughter. I'et they could not believe that, for i tie had net mentioned her; had not even i mated at ber existence before he died, j li was Mary's name which bud been cz ' his bps. i " said Mr. Guest to the claimi ants. "It you can prove that you are iuj deed 3lr. Kaye's daughter, I am afraid j you: Kill have a clear case. Eat we I mast prove - first:" ill. j A week later the news vis spread in s longer, but a poor girl with ber Jiving. !to get. lie honourable Arthur Tenby ■ comd not realise it, could not believe ! lor .Maiy was the prettiest girl be tee*-* j and it was so hard to give her up. i still he did it as gently as he could ia ; Dr. Grey's house, wneie s£e had gone to j live for a while. It was such a pitiful j thing he thought that people so well » | and at one moment he was almost teaseled ! to nsii everything—to throw away his J ambition to marry an beiress and fight poverty with Mary. ; The feeling vanished in an instant when i he remembered his embarrassed affairs, i and be told ber outright that be could j not, afford to marry yet —that tbsy would 1 have to wait for years, perhaps tor ever, j and Mary decided at once to wait for S ever. I The odd part cf it was that Mary did | not care. i After he bad gene she sat listlessly ever j the are. What would beoome of her she j could cot tell—it broke her heart to ; think. She bad not a friend in the ! world except Dr. Grey, and she could i not live for ever upon him. She would I have to go cut to earn ber living in I some way—tnougb bow, she did not j know.. Life seemed horribly hopeless, and j she almost wished she lay dead beside ! tbe old man whom she bad loved as ber father. She was shaking with sobs when the • door opened suddenly, and a young man entered. He was tall and straight, with a clean-cut handsome face. " Dr. Grey said I should find you here,*i be bes:as, and then stormed. She got up hurriedly, trying to stop ber tears: and then an odd thing happened, considering she was a penniless girl, whem nobody seemed to want. .Dick Maricne went up to ber and held out his hands. " You know what 1 want to sav." he cried. " You know I love yon and "have done so for a long time. Now you are poor, and Captain Tenby has gone, I can speak. Yon know—Mary, you know I love you. Will you be my wife ?" Mary looked up and gave a little quick sob cf happiness. " Oh, Dick. I believe the will has don® me some good after all." she cried. « * # * «- Tbe odd part of it. was that the woman who herself Claudia Kaye was notClaudia Kaye at all. and thai Mr. Kay a had known it and handed full proofs of i-he death of bis child twenty-two years before, to Mr. Guest, before be died. Then ne said, if Cap-Lain Tenby was. the fcrtune-hont=r Dr. Grev called him. it would prove- him, and "save Mary a lot cf unhappiness. And it dud. Is was a dying man's fancy, and it was the wisest things h® could have done. ; What became cf Claudia Kaye no one knew. She had come intending to levy blackmail unon Mr. Kave. She reckoned without her hcri for she did not know that he held proofs cf the death of bis own child. After Mr. Guest produced them she vanished, and Mar* found herself to he a rich woman onca the ma? she Icvpc and never had causa to reeret it. —As for Captain Tenby. Court never saw birn anv more. He believes that tbe whole tbinu was arransed on purpose, and is still angrv at being deceived by sucb a got-up thing.