THE TANGLED WEB.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20596, 21 June 1930, Page 40 (Supplement)

THE TANGLED WEB.

BY ELIZABETH YORK MILLER.

SYNOPSIS. aged 50, i 3 awaiting his old friend,; Thomas Tremlett. John Raynes' daughter, Meriel, and Trenilett'a son, Jijn, have been, boy and girl together. Jim loves Meriel,; but she regards him more as a chum. The respective fathers are hoping that the two young ones will make a match of it. Meriel .has promised her father that she will not drink any more cocktails, but she has no intention of relinquishing tho rathor gay Booiety into which her Aunt Angel has introduced her. Angela Lady Pelbury, her father's sister, allows her niece to become entangled with Captain Eric Saunders, a man almost old enough to be her father. On this particular night Meriel 'dines under tho chaperonaste of her aunt, Lady Pelbury, at the Bric-a-Jkap Club. It is late when Lady Pelbury bethinks herself of her nieoe, who has danced, she considers, too many times with Captain Saunders, and she sends a messenger to find her. Meriel, and Saunders have retired from the dancing floor and are sitting in a secluded nook on the balcony; They have come to a thorough understanding before Lady Pelbwry's emissary finds them. Meriel arranges that Erie shall see her father at five o'clock on the following evening; therefore, in order to prepare him, eho decides to break the news at brsakfast. Her father takes it badly and goes off in a taxi without bidding her good-bye. She telephones to the captain to say that her father wants to see him, but that he is very bitter. About;four o'clock that afternoon she hears' her father's voice ,in the lower hall, speaking to the maid: " Shut the door in his face, Edith. Say you have orders not to admit 'him." Meriel goes as cold-as ice. John Raynes and his daughter have an nnpleasant encounter on account of Captain Eric Saunders, but Meriel refuses to give him up. At five o'clock Saunders calls but is repulsed. As he descends the steps of Raynes's house Meriel. meets him.* .They go to a tea-shop vhere they can discuss the situation. She tells him that her father has suggested she should pay a visit to her married sister, Julia, in Ramsgate, and her lover immediately concoct 3 a scheme whereby she can cover her elopement with Saunders, so far as, her people are concerned. Ho will ro to Folkestone and take out a wedding licence. In three weeks Moriel will follow, ostensibly to pay a visit to Julia, in reality she will change at Maidstone and join Erio .at Folkestone. This works out according to plan. CHAPTER IV.—(Continued). Meriel was in a quandry about her big trunk. It would be difficult to shift that as well as her hand-luggage, when she made the change at Maidstone, to the front part of the. train. It would have to go on to Ramsgate and Julia must send it to her in Pariß. The family were not so petty that they would keep back her clothes. Her dressingbag and suit-case held enough for,. the first week or so. ' She wrote to Julia as Eric had instructed her to, slipping tho date from the 3Qth to tho 31th, and finally the fateful Tuesday arrived. / *. When she woke on this which was to. bo her wedding day, the heavens were pouring rain with the single-hearted purpose of flooding tho world. " I'll wire, Julia, or telephone," said John Raynes at breakfast. " It's too miserable for you to think of setting forth in this weather." "But I'm all packed—everything's arranged," protested Meriel in dismay. "And'l—l simply couldn't bear putting it off." . " Oh, well then. You aren't eating a thing. What about a crisp morsel of thi.'i bacon " No,' thank you, Daddy. I'm not hungry." _ .' She. glanced at him wistfully an ache in her heart. Her great-grandmother Raynes felt like this on the day she ran away with the shipwright I Meriel had always supposed that to have been an impudently gay elopement. Surely the sun had Ihone! . ~. , - "%vo half a mind to come with you," said 'John when the station had been achieved and he stood under the thunder of the rain on the great glass roof and waited for the train to bear his beloved child away. But set habits vetoed the impulse. " If he stayed the night at Julia's he'd need things that he would hate to borrow or even buy. As foi-. example, he shaved with a set. of oldfashioned razors, one for each day of thei week, and pocket-handkerchiefs were all; of a pattern.- He couldn't bear un-5 familiar things. "Well, you're ioff. Be a good girl.' " Good-bye, or something." , She clung' to him for a little longer than the prospect of their separation seemed to warrant. , . Then the train glided put with Meriel Raynes in a carriage all to herself, thewindows streaming with rivulets that blotted the landscape, and nothing much to console her, but the fact th.it she had ' out-witted authority and was fairly assured.' of attaining 'that upon which she had set her heart. Of course she loved Eric and she was going to him. In a few hours she would be his wife. She looked at her left hand. Would he remember to buy a ring ?. Where would they bo married ? Under, lier mackintosh she wore one of her new frocks and had a little crush hat to match in her suit-case. Perhaps it would not be raining at Folkstone. This hope gained ground as tho journey pro ceeded, and afterthe change at Maidstone was effected, a pale sh&ft of sunlight cut across tho scudding clouds. It was like , a promise, - •'■. . • . » • . « • j • The first glimpse she caught of Eric on tho platform as tho train drew in, gave hor .a faint shock of apprehension lie was looking eagerly at the carriage windows, but Meriel saw him before he discovered..her. Could ho have been ill, she wondered 1 " / For it Was almost as though she saw a stranger, • that' middle-aged man with the lined face and mottled skin, who—catching sight of. her finally—raised liis hat disclosing scantier locks than she had imagined. The explanation, of this seeming alteration did not dawn on her, bnt it was simple enough. Meriel had never really seen Eric Saunders before by daylight. Artificial light must needs adjust itself to tho favour of the ageing in tho haunts of London's social life.

"There yon arc, my darling! I've been in a panic ever since wo parted for fear you'd lot. mo flown," ho cried as lie helped her from the carriage. " But, of course, I kno v you'd send word if ypu .were so cruel as to change jour mind."

Meriel regarded, him solemnly. "Of course," she replied. Then: *Eric.. aro you quite'well? You haveu't been ill, have you ?" "Never felt more fit in my life. What a question! You didn't expect to hear from me, did you ? "We agreed it would bo safer not to write."

" Oh, yes, I know. I thought you looked a littlo tired—that's all. What do we do now?"

" First, I'm going to take you arouud to my rooms. We'll leave your bags there. I've been expecting a rather important telegram, but up to half an hour ago it hadn't, come. It may bo tliero now. Then, my darling, we're going to ( stroll across to tile town hall and Bottle some important business wo hove on hand. Afterwards, a littlo banquet to celebrate the occasion—just ourselves. Does tho programme sound all right ?" A slight trembling seized her when they /were in tho taxi, and she was glad that ho took her hand.

This strange ne\y life with Eric; to what was it .leading? " Are you my darling?" he ■whispered, his lips close to her ear. " Yes —yes!" / she murmured faintly. But slio knew it was not quite the truth. How| dishonest she had been.'Could real happinesi evor : como of such decoption as 6be had practised? « . . • Then hi .wave-, of reaction carried .her into a sort pf, haven of uneasy, quiescence. After 'all —think of groat-grandmother • Raynes! f It was-going to bo horrid lor . daddy wh?a lie opened that telegram to- ■ night, but she'd mention great-grand-mother in it and beg him to remember how well that runaway match had turned out.

A MOST DELIGHTFUL AND THRILLING SERIAL.

CHAPTER V.

At the front window in the half-base-ment of one of those tall houses on the cliffs of Folkestone, sometimes styled the Leas, a young, clever-looking woriibn sat working on a job of dressmaking. She had dark eyes and glossy black hair, and her lips wero sulky and very red. There was also just a suspicion of red about the edges and Lids of her eyes, but that was in no wise due to artifice and she had done what she could to cover it up with powder. In short, you would have at some lime during the course of the morning, this young woman had given Way to a violent lit of weeping. In the window was a card bearing the inscription: " Miss L. Begby, Court Dressmaker," for Miss Begby was well up in her trade and had had thb honour of making the presentation dresses of two important young ladies ot the district. In the bow-window directly above the senii-base-ment was another card, and this said, briefly: "Apartments." . , The distinguished dressmaker's widowed mother, was Eric Saunders* landlady. At the present moment. Mrs. Begby, a bnxom woman, dark, like her daughter and with French blood in her veins, had repaired to Captain Saunders s sittingroom where she was putting the finishing touches to a bright little luncheon table set for two. She regretted losing the dashing captain but tho circumstances of his marriage stirred her sense ot the romantic. Eric wns on familiar terms with Mrs. Begby and hrr daughter and had told them everything—that is to say, nearly everything They knew that tho bride's name was "Meriel and that it was a runaway match because her father wanted to marry hpr to a man she did not -love. Fortunately for Mrs. Begby's peace of mind' she did not know that her own (laughter had wept bitterly that morning, and' not for the first time. The reddened eyelids, when noticed at all, were attributed to overmuch needlework, combined with the fact that Leonora would not get herself fitted with the spectacles Blie so obviously needed. Thoy had appeared briefly at the house, that romantic couple, and were now at the Town Hall,'pledging their troth bofore the clerk of the register. Mrs. Begby would have them to be married in church, with lighted candles and a wealth of flowers. The bride's youth and extreme beauty had startled the sympathetic landlady, but it all added to -the romance She was frightened, poor little thing! Mrs. Begby's ample bosom heaved with a reminiscent sigh as she sampled the salted almonds and slipped a few choclates from the be- ' decked table into her pocket. She recalled herself as a bride. She had been so nervous on her, own wedding day that she'd drawn on one of her stockings wrong side out and been obliged to have -it that way, for it would have meant bad luck to change. But she might just as well have changed, considering what poor luck she'd had. T .......,, Hark, was that the door-bell ? " All right, I'm going," Leonora's voice called up. . "What was it?" Mrs. Begby asked over the banisters. ;,I

"A telegram for Captain Saunders. I expect, it's .that ones lie's';been so anxious about all the morning," the girl replied. She retired again to the basement, taking the telegram with her, and Mrs. Begby went down to the kitchen to keep an eye on the poulet casserole and prepare a concoction of mushroms and fois gras which was a favourite. dish of -the captain's, Mrs. Begby was something unique in seaside landladies.

Leonora folded up >her sewing,;, It had suddenly become hateful to the point of intolerance. By this time they were married. Ah, well, no use weeping over something one could not help. Yet last summer Captain Saunders had been so attractive. Those dances in the Leas Pavilion ball room; those moonlight strolls along the promenade and down the twists and turnings of the cliff-side gardens. Had they meant nothing to liim at all ? ApparentK- they had meant too much to Leonora Begby. Her face hardened as she looked, at the flimsy brown envelope in her hand. Congratulations, probably; or perhaps'-'a promise of money. The captain had often been short of funds in the past, and was generally hanging on the receipt of a letter or a cablegram. Ah, there they were—the bridegroom and his bride.

A taxi was drawing tip. and. Leonora retreated -to the back of the room from where she could see without being 3een. i Meriel looked a little pale as * a bride should be. but now that, the deed was done she felt more, settled in her mind.' She was married, irrevocably married to and no. chance now for second thoughts.' ... . ■ ' '•♦( it was very lovely in the new frock and hat bought for this great though secret occasion, and the sun was almost shining. At least the rain bad stopped. The sea looked uncomfortable, though, brown and choppy, with the big crosschannel steamer which was to take them to France to-night just backing into , its berth from the morning crossing. A cloud of swooping grey, gulls followed its oily wake. Ever since Eric bad met her at the station, Meriel had been fighting against a strong inclination to play him false at the last moment. Sho loved him just as much as ever—there was 110 doubt in her heart about that—hut misgivings had heaped upoii her until the burden was almost: too heavy. Thcv ought to have waited a little longer If they bad been patient, daddy could have been won over in time. All it had needed wa3 for Eric to prove his worthiness, and Aunt Angel was >vrong when she said that money was ddddy's god. |Julia had married a poor young man, and Cissy's husband was already in the firm when ho and: Cissy, got engaged, but merely a cashier in tho banking department. Daddy hadn't been at all mean about either of them. " Sweetheart,,are you happy?" S Eric's wJrisper startled her.' They were going up (lie stairs now, and he had put his ann around her waist. She felt uncomfortably aware that someone was watching them from the shadowy ball and wished ho wouldn't do it.

" 1 hope I am." she replied, with n nervous laugh. " Yes, of course," He followed her into the bedroom, whe/e she went to remove her hat and tidy hcr,self.

" Oh, Eric!" hnc turned a little red

*' But, my darliug, jou're my wife now. Don't you realise that? Come, I must have a kiss."

Without knowing why she did such a thing, Meriel backed away from him and placed her hands against his breast. Her breath was coming hard and fast. " Eric, I —l haven't got used to being married yet. It's all so strango. Why, only three hours ago I was saying goodbyo to daddy, and now—and now everything's altered." "My foolish iittlo love! What did you expect ?" His voice was a trifle rough, and he turned and left her. When she went into the sitting room lie was mixing cocktails, and Mrs. Begby had brought up a bottle of champagno in mi ice bucket.

Eric himself drank the cocktails, nl!hough ho tried to persuade Meriel that slio had graduated from tho schoolgirl curriculum imposed by her father. " I should havo ordered a lemon squash," lie said a little derisively. Tho lunch, bowuver, could scarcely fail to claim Meriel's appreciation, and to please ]Eric she sipped a little champagne. Mrs. Begby served them, and was made to drink their health. Presently Meriel leTt considerably mora cheerful.

Yet—wasn't Eric drinking more than could be good for him at this early hour of tho day?' The mottled colour she had noticed was intensified, and his thin hair had got slightly ruffled.

(COPYRIGHT.)

"Funny thing," he "said, when Mrs. Begby camo in with the last course. " I liaven'fc had that wire. Still, no news is generally good news." " There a wire did come, said the landlady. "Leonora took it in. She went to the stairs and called down: Loo. whero's that telegram that came for the Leonora appeared with the brown envelope. There was a curious expression on her sombre face as she handed it u> Eric j an expression of guarded triumph, as though to say, " Hero 8 your bad news, you traitor!" . '• Now, then, ueuiiora must drink our health, too," said Eric, blind to the girl's hostile manner. " Fill a glass for her, Meriel. And please excuse me just a moment." , . He went into the adjoining room, the telegram still unopened in his hand. Mrs. Begby. carrying a trayful ot dishes, left the two young women together. " Your very good health, I m sure, Mrs. Saunders—long life, prosperity and happiness," said Leonora Begby. Meriel blushed furiously. " Thank you so much. It sounds strange. ~. I mean, you're the first one to call me Mrs. Saunders.'*'

Tho dark girl smiled in a sour fashion. " Yes, I expect it does seem odd. That's a smart frock you're' wearing. Please forgive me saying so, but dressmaking's my trade. I'm thinking of setting up in London next year. Perhaps you wouldn't, mind my sending you a card." " No, not at all," Meriel repliod. Tho girl puzzled her. Miss Begby, though her manner suggested hostility, did not seem to be wholly unfriendly. Perhaps she ivas shy. -Shy people often seemed rude when they wero merely trying to appear at ease.

" I hope you're a good sailor," observed Leonora, fixing her gaze upon the sea, " because the channel's going to be rough to-night." Meriel shuddered delicately. " I'm not very," she confessed. " Perhaps you'll put it off until the weather clears."

" I don't think we can," Meriel replied. No matter what the channel was jike she must , get on the other side before she sent that fatal telegram to daddy. Leonora left her, conversation between them having languished, and a moment later Eric Saunders returned to the room. His fate was still mottled, but underneath it had gone white, which was even a little more nnpleasant than when_ it was flushed. He had yet another drink before he spoke—neat brandy it was this time from a decanter on the sideboard. "What has happened?" Meriel exclaimed in alarm. It was easy enough to see that he was profoundly disturbed. " Dear" —his hands and voice were shaking—"l scarcely know how to tell j'ou. This^—this ghastly thing has knocked our honeymoon on the head." He crumpled the telegram into his pocket. " One of those things that just happens, I suppose—only they seem always happening in my li/e." " But, Eric, wnat is it?" Their honeymoon knockod on tho head. A curious sense of excitement amounting almost to hysteria took possession of Meriel, and she wasn't quite, suro whether she . would give way to laughter or sobs. " Come here, sweetheart—sit on my knee, and I'll try to tell you." " Reluctantly \ she obeyed him, but the fumes of the brandy disgusted her, and she held herself away as much as sho could. .. ': ~v -

He mentioned tnat uncle of his in South Africa,' whoj it appeared', had been seriously ill 'for some time, and now—in answer to anxious inquiries—had come this telegram Eric took it from his pocket, smoothed out the creases, and showed it to Meriel.

" Most grateful for sympathetic messages. Unfortunately Sid vexy low. Doctor thinks may last few weeks. Asking for you; presence urgently needed; please come.—Aunt Laura."

" I shall have to go," Eric said quietly. " Not only am I fond of the old fellow, but our whole future may depend upon this. Whether we like to think of it or nof, money is rather important. Besides, my aunt will need ma» to help settle tho estate."

. "Yes, of course you must go," said Muriel. A wild contusion was in her mind. What did ho intend to do about her? She was suddenly very apprehensive. ... "I'm afraid I can't take you with me, sweetheart," ho said reluctantly. "To be quite honest, I haven't got the ready money for both of us. It's an expensive trip, and my allowance isn't likely to turn up for a week or more. Besides" - ho cleared his throat —" when I come back I'll be in a better position to claim you We could say nothing about this little adventure, eh ?—and have a proper wedding, with bells and bridesmaids, and all that sort of thing." "I don't think I quite know what you mean, Eric. ' , She seemed rather dense to him. " Why, it's perfectly simple. We're only about 30 miles or so from Ramsgate. A taxi can take you there well insido a couple of hours. Tell your sister that sho made a mistake about, the date, or that you did. Who's to know whether you came direct from the slat inn or not? I'll fix.up a bargain with the taxi-drver and pay him in advance, and if anything's happened —that's to say, if they've found out you left this morning, you can say you changed into another carriage at Maidstono hecause somebody got in you didn't like the look of, and found yourself in the wrong part of the train. It's not very difficult, is it?" No; as Eric said, It was almost too simple. Sho wondered why her hoirt felt as light as air. v "How long do you think you'li bo ,gone?" she asked. "It might be six months. Oh, my darling, how am l to live without you !• You'll be true to mc—you'll be patient?"

Meriel nodded. It seemed wicked to feel this sense of relief. Of course, it was because, in the end, everything would como right, and they could ho married straight and abovchoard. Daddy need never know how cruelly she had deceived him.

" Meriel, you'll keep this to yourself, won't you?" he asked anxiously. "It would only give your father something else to go on if ho ever knew I'd persuaded you to run away. Promise ?" " Yes, Eric, I promise. I won't tell anybody." Slio slipped tho new ring off her finger. " You'd better keep this for me until—until you como back." Ho put tho ring into his pocket. "You're an absolute brick, Meriel!" " :t Suddenly ho clasped her in his arms and in spite of herseli ane gave a little scream and wrenched away.. y :

" No—no!" She was laughing and crying both now. ""I don'fc want you to kiss me—l mean I must go ijt once, mustn't I ? Daddy may have rung up Julia. It would be just like him—to find out if I'd got thcro safely." Eric shrugged his shoulders, but tho rebuff had chilled him.

"All this!" ho oxclaimed, indicating tho remains,of their wedding feast. "If that cable had only como yesterday. Forgive me, Meriel, if I seem a bit of a bruto, but I'm rather shaken nnd tho disappointment has hit mo hard."

."Poor Eric!" She ventured a timid caress aud mercifully didn't realise that she liad to force herself to touch him; that ho had Decuuio more and moro a stranger to her; tnat ever since they met that morning she had been moving away from him, slowly, but irrevocably, in spito of' that small but binding coremony in the Town Hall. (To be continued on Saturday next.)