LORD PETER GOES A-WOOING

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21326, 29 October 1932, Page 12 (Supplement)

LORD PETER GOES A-WOOING

CHAPTER I Virginia turned her neatly cropped head lazily. It was Jtme on the Lido, and she was reclining on the sand under a huge orangestriped umbrella, discussing clothes and personalities with her aunt, Mrs. OgdenLodge, who sat on a wicker-chair beside her. It entirely suited Virginia, this lazy loafing in the shade, dreamily inspecting the vari-coloured costumes of the crowd through half-shut eyes. She would have been satisfied to do nothing else all day. Unfortunately, Count Raoul Morny de Choux Beauville St. Saens De ChateauMaury, to give him his full title (a thing which none of his intimates did), had different plans. He had appeared suddenly, impeccably clad in snowy white flannels, and inserted his head and shoulders under the orange-striped umbrella. He had, exasperatingly, expected Virginia to be bright when she wanted to dream. Her welcome was the reverse of warm. ".You are aloof this motning, Virginia," he 'murmured with a practiced tone of disappointment in his voice. "It is a lovely day, everyone is happy, you are beautiful, and yet you sulk. You are adorable when you sulk, I admit, but is it kind to frown on me, who would give the whole world for your smile ? " Virginia's mind worked rapidly. "I'm dying of thirst," she. replied, (matching at the first idea that entered her head. " Do be a dear and get me something nice to drink. Something colourful, Morny, in a tall glass.'' Morny rose to his feet stifling his annoyance. He was of an impressive height, well over six feet tall. His extreme slimness was accentuated by exquisite, but foppish tailoring. He was handsome in a saturnine way, dark, with thick hair that curled slightly above the ears, large black eyes, set a little too close together, and a pale oval face. His thin lips parted to show a row of even white teeth.

" To serve you, Virginia; what pleasure it is!" he declared. "That is my only wish —to be near you, and to do your bidding." " Something with a cherry in it," said Virginia, cutting him short. Morny raised his panama with a magnificent gesture, and hurried away. ■ Virginia looked up at her aunt. " Think quickly, Auntie," she exclaimed. " He'll be back' soon. How can we get rid of him ? "

Mrs. Ogden-Lodge smiled down at the fresh young face of the American girl. "'You don't like him ? " Virginia loked doubtful. " I do at times—a great deal. On moonlit evenings, he's simply perfect. There is something about Morny in evening clothes that is irresistible. Fascinating—wicked looking. He makes love like all the screen idols rolled into one. But in broad daylight, he isn't the same. His compliments sound so artificial." Her aunt smiled. " After all the years you've spent on the continent, the folk at -homo w.ill expect .you to bring a title back with you. If you don't they'll think you've been wasting your time." Virginia's silvery laugh rang out. " I'll be original, Auntie, even it it means being out of the fashion," she replied. " I'm not going to marry a Count simply to oblige the old hens at home. I'll go home, plain Miss Virginia Saunders —if I ever do go home," she added wistfully. " You'll be quite out of fashion. Mary Bettinson took her duke home the other week to show the folks in Pittsburgh." Virginia laughed again. Mary Bettinson and she had been inseparables during their schooldays in Paris. There was something very funny in the thought that her school friend was now a Duchess. There was little romance about it, for the Duke was elderly and jaundiced, and had fallen madly in love—with Mary's money. " Won't she get a, thrill out of parading him around?" she said. "A real, live, Rooshian Duke! But Mary will have five million dollars in her own right when she's twenty-five; I suppose my small fortune doesn't attract bigger game than a Count. Dukes like big bait! " Her ounfc stroked the girl's head affectionately. " If I didn't know you, I'd say that you were becoming as hard as nails, but knowing you, I know that you're just the same, sweet unaffected little girl that I met on the dock at Cherbourg, seven years ago, and took to school at Paris. My! You were a quaint little thing then! Two long pigtails —you bated them, but they were nicer to my mind that that horrible Eton crop—and big eyes that stared at everything strange and Europeon. Always saying ' gee! ' in an awed voice, and f passionately addicted to chewing gum. What an appetite you had, too! There was nothing boyish about your figure then. Why, you were plump! Fat, almost! " Virginia chuckled, and stretched her long slim body gracefully. Her blue eyes were still frank, wide-open, and enquiring. In spite of her aunt's dislike of the Eton crop, it revealed the delicate beauty of her tiny ears, and glorified her perfectlyshaped head, and the nape of her neck, white and rounded. Her complexion owed nothing 1o cosmetic art, except an occasional perfunctory dab of powder. Her lips were full, and nature had painted them crimson. She had the perfect teeth of a girl from a toothpaste advertisement. Admirers had found it difficult to decide whether her chief charm lay in her beauty, her graeff, her exquisite repose, delightful reticence, passionate sincerity, or her unquenchable humour. She played games well, but also found time to read. She smiled now, reminiscently. " A wretched little brat I must have been. I remember I cried for a whole night after you left me at the school. I wasn't old enough then to worry whether my nose became red or not. After that first night, I settled down to make the best of things. I achieved that end by ' raising hell ' as Uncle George would say." Their laughter blended. The principal wrote three times asking me to take you away," her aunt responded. " But when you were leaving at last, they begged me to let you stop! " " I had them licked into shape by that time," said Virginia complacently. " The teachers were quite decent, really. They only wanted to be livened up a bit." Mrs. Ogden-Lodge let her book fall upon the sand. " Virginia," she said earnestly. " Your Uncle George has his business ties here, and I'm used to living in Paris now. It's home to us. We've been here for twenty years. We won't ever go back. But you're different, child. You ought to know your own country, and experience the marvellous feeling of belonging there. Don't marry a European. Go home, and give the young men in Richmond, Virginia, a chance. Go back, my dear, and find out what home is like." Virginia looked wistfully beyond the gay figures on the beach, out across the sea that sparkled like champagne in the sunlight. "I wonder if I will?" she whispered huskily. " I'm afraid of feeling like a stranger, over there. The life would be so different, and with dad and mum gone—" Her voice trailed away, and §he became silent, lost in Iter thoughts. N'ew York! Philadelphia! Chicago! San J rancisco! and her own home in Richmond, \ irginia! They called to her, as they must call to every American who lives abroad. Yet, she was afraid to answer the call. Afraid to go back to the big, gloomy house she had lived in as a child, and which had been silent and empty 6ince her parents were killed in a motor accident, and she was sent to school in Paris. In two weeks she would be twenty-one, and she had hot been in America since hep fourteenth birthday. She was at home in London and Paris, but would she be equally at home in her own country, with its habits and customs which she bad long ago forgotten ?_

By CYNTHIA PRIESTLEY LOVE AND HUMOUR CHARACTERISE THIS BLITHE STORY

Her only ties America were a few distant relations, a gloomy old house whish sho never wanted to see again, and the paintrand-varnish factory winch her father had owned, and which would legally be hers on her twenty-first birthday. There is little attraction in distant relations, and still less in a paint-and-varnish factory to draw one across three thousand miles of water. Rouch water. too! It was comforting to think of the largo, smelly factory which turned out pails on pails of paint and varnish, to insure Virginia of her substantial income, but she felt no desire to go to it. Nor did Cousins Priseilla and Esra attract her. They \vere too straight-laced, and too puritancal. Their favourite recreation was talking scandal. They spent so much time chastising evil, that" they had little'left to practice good. Some day, perhaps she would go hack—but not just yet. Her day dreams were interrupted by the sight of a young man who was coming along the sands. He was fall and handsome* in a thoroughly manly, completely Englifili fashion. His shoulders wore bx'oad, his jaw was firm, and his eyes were set well apart. His mouth betrayed some weakness; it looked easy-going, and good-natured. His brown hair was crisp, and curled ever so slightly. He was dressed in smart brown tweeds, of unmistakably English cut. He looked bored, and Virginia fancied that his boredom was caused by tho woman who hung upon his arm. The woman was tall, willowy and exotic. Even at a distance, it was impossible to mistake tho fact that sho wore a great deal of make-up. Her face was dead white, and her lips were carmine. She was exquisitely gowned, and expensively bejewelled. " How well she and Morny would match each other!" thought Virginia. They were as much alike in manner and type as two Persian cats. The thought naturally evoked another one. " How would Virginia and the very English young together?" She would be much more suitable she decided, than his present companion. Idle speculation. Sho would probably never know him, never even speak to him. He did not look like the usual type of Lido lounger. As he passed the orange-striped beach umbrella he glanced at Virginia, and his eyes flickered with interest. They grew dull grey again as his companion pressexl his arm, and asked a question, and ho passed on without another glance. Virginia looked after him. " Auntie, who is that young man ?" she asked.

Mrs. Ogden-Lodge, who knew virtually everyone in fashionable society, raised her lorgnette and stared after the couple. She pursed her lips suddenly. " That young man is Lord Peter Blavdon, the Earl of Mornington's brother," she replied a little stiffly. ' His companion is Olga Nikowa, the dancer. An unsavoury pair." Virginia was surprised. "Why, what on earth do ycu mean?" she asked. Mrs.- Ogden-Lodge lowered her lorgnette. " Surely, my dear, you have heard something of tlie scandals that surround tha:i dreadful Nikowa woman. Why, her affairs are the talk of Paris!" " Oh, I didn't mean her," replied Virginia pointedly. " I meant the young man—Lord Peter." Her aunt gave Virginia a shrewd glance. " Don't lot your interest in him become personal, my- dear," she said. " 110 is a very dangerous young man. A disgrace to his family. They would have washed their hands of him long ago, but for the faint possibility that he may succeed his brother. "But he looks so frank and manly!" Virginia protested. My dear, haven't you learned that one can't judge by looks ? I admit that his appearance is quite presentable, but then, he is not more than twenty-five, and the life he leads has not yet impressed itself on his face. Already he has been the subject of two horrible scandals. He has been married and divorced twice. Twice! my dear, at twenty-five. Quite a Bluebeard. His first marriage was with a really nice- girl—one of the Hampshire Coles, in fact —but the second, my dear, was with a barmaid, no less. Deplorable taste on his part, but in keeping with his character. He is never without some paramour or other. Women flock to him. Beware of him, my dear. He's a very dangerous young man!" If Mrs. Ogden-Lodge had given more consideration to her words, she would have expressed herself differently. To warn Virginia against a person was to endow that person with an added attractiveness. Virginia was very modern, and more fascinated than frightened by danger. " He looked terribly bored with Olga Nikowa," she remarked. Mrs. Ogden-Lodge laughed. " My dear, whenever one sees him with a woman, he looks bored. I expect that locking bored is his pose." The sight of a familiar figure coming along the beach drew Virginia to her feet. " There's Morny," she said. " I'm off. I couldn't stand one of his flowery speeches at the moment. Be polite to him, Auntie, for me." She picked her way among the gay beach umbrellas, and the recumbent forms of sun-bathers. Her aunt watched Virginia go with a world of affection in her eyes. It completely escaped the good lady's attention that her niece lad gone in the direction taken by the dangerous Lord Peter Blaydon, and his scandalous companion. Virginia walked on and on, revelling in the brilliant sunshine', and the azure blue water. She decided to devote that aftornoon to bathing really bathing, in the sea, instead of idling upon the warm sands, as most of the Lido crowd did. It is almost a novelty to see a wet bathing suit on the Lido. Some people come season after season, spend morning after morning in bathing-suits, and never as much as get their feet wet. She passed a crowd of young people, clad in colourful bathing suits, who were playing with a medicine ball, standing m a circle, and throwing it from one to another. Just ahead, she noticed the dangerous young man walking alone. Evidently his boredom had infected his companion, and shei had left him. Without realising it, Virginia began to walk a little faster. There was a particular muscular young man playing medicine ball with the others, and he began to find this gentle, childish game a bore. Instead of tossing it to one of the others, when it came into his possession he heaved it as far as he could. Then without waiting to see where it landed, he ran down the beach, and into the * \yater. Virginia heard a warning shout, and turned, but as she did so, the medicine ball struck her on the head. She fell on the sand, momentarily stunned. When she came to, she found that her head was reclining on a shoulder clad in tweed that smelled pleasantly of tobacco. A strong arm was placed around her shoulders, supporting her. She opened her eyes, to see a ring of anxious faces, belonging to the youths and girls who had been playing with the medicine ball. She sat up, and the arm around her shoulders adjusted itself so it still supported her. " I'm all right thanks," she murmured in reply to anxious enquiries. "It was silly of me to faint. The blow was nothing really. It was unexpected, that was all. I'll be perfectly all right, now." She turned to thank the possessor of the strong arm which was si ill around her shoulders, and found herself looking into the admiring grey eyes of Lord Peter Blaydon. And for once in his life, Lord Peter did not look bored in the company of a woman! CHAPTER H Lord Peter Blaydon looked down at Virginia with considerable anxiety. Virginia looked up gravely at him. For a seemingly interminable period, their eyes met and lingered. It might have been an hour, half-an-hour, ten minutes, or only a few seconds, but while it lasted a magnetic thrill went from one to the other.

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Virginia began to realise the attraction this young man must have for members of her sex. He had more personal magnetism than anyone else whom she had ever met, The attraction that women had for him was less understandable. He was not in the least like the average male philanderer. lie seemed essentially a man's man. As for Lord Peter, he felb like a raw schoolboy in the presence of a goddess. There was something about this girl which was definitely and undefinably different from any woman he had yet met. Her complexion, free from the artifices that most women of his acquaintance used so unsparingly, was fresh and unspoiled. There was a direct frankness about her that was irresistibly attractive. Most of tho women ha knew, in circumstances like thesp, would have taken advantage of every feminine wile. There would have been the first lingering glance, as though their eyes were kissing, then a fluttering and drooping of tho eyelashes, seductive in their subtle suggestion. And because these artifices would have been intended to attract him, he would have been repelled—and bored. This girl looked at him frankly, directly. There was something wholesome and unspoiled about her. Thus Virginia Saunders, and Lord Peter Blaydon looked long and deeply into each other's eyes, and plighted their troth—though of that they were not aware until long afterwards. The young man who had thrown the ball, came running up to apologise, and the spell was broken. Virginia was helped to her feet, and found that she was perfectably able to stand without assistance. She assured the contrite young man that no harm had been done. " The young fool should be kicked," said Lord Peter heatedly when they were alone. " Sheer carelessness on his part. You. might have been badly hurt." Virginia shook her head. " It wasn't altogether his fault," she replied. " He probably got tired of tossing the ball back and forward. I don't blame him either. I should probably have done the same thing byself—not so forcibly, perhaps." He nodded. " Pretty footling way to pass tho time," he agreed. " Most of the pastimes here are." " Then I may take it that you don't like the Lido ? " Virginia suggested. He frowned. "I hate it. Don't you ? " • " Not altogether," she replied. " I like the sand, and the sunshine, and the sea —and I dislike tho small-talk, and the pastimes, and some of the people." " I'm with you there," he agreed heartily. " The people and the small-talk outweigh all the natural advantages the place has. They rush into bathing-costumes the moment they arrive here —the people, I mean—and don't discard them until tho day of their departure. The fatter they are the less covering they wear. Why is it that superfluous flesh, which is unfashionable everywhere else, is so ruthlessly flaunted in the face of- tho world at the Lido ? "

Their laughter blended. Then a silence came between them. They looked at each other almost shyly. Virginia had the feelin'g that she should thank Lord Peter for his kindness, and bid him good-bye. After all, he was a young man whom her aunt had wished her to avoid—a young man with an unsavoury reputation. Her duty was obvious; she should thank him politely, and retire. Although she knew perfectly well what she should do, she did the exact reverse. Lord Peter pointed to an untcnated beach umbrella. " I say, why not sit down over there and rest for a bit ? " Virginia had been hoping that he would make the suggestion, but now that it was made, she was not going to fall in with it too readily. " I'm afraid I can't," she murmured. " Oh, please." " But my aunt will be expecting me back—l only went for a short stroll." He smiled appealingly. " I'm sure your aunt won't worry. Please stay, for just a few minutes?" Virginia capitulated, as she had intended to do from the first. " I really shouldn't. Well, all right, I will—but only for a minute." " Oh, of course—just a minute." He made her comfortable in a. deckchair which was conveniently placed under the beach umbrella. " A cigarette ? " he suggested. " Thanks awfully." He held a match for her, then lit one himself, and squatted down at her feet. They smoked in silence for a few moments. " If you hate the Lido so much," said Virginia at last, " why do you come? " He blew a smoke-ring. " For the answer to that question, you must meet my aunt," ho replied. " Your aunt? " He nodded. " Lady Agatha Frinton." The name struck a chord in Virginia's memory. Lady Agatha Frinton was the elderly spinster of acid disposition and aristocratic lineage who had been haunting Mrs. Ogden-Lodge for weeks. She had gone out of her way to be agreeable to Virginia, although she obviously loathed young people. Lady Agatha had disappeared from the Lido a week or so ago, but Virginia had heard that she was returning that morning. " But what on earth has she got to do with it? " she asked. " Everything," replied the young man sweepingly. " She brought me here. She appeared in my room in London a few days ago. and said: ' Pack! You are coming with me to the Lido '. I packed. There was nothing else to do. One can't argue- with Aunt Agatha." Virginia stared at his broad shoulders in surprise. " But I thought that only girls were dominated by aunts?" " I am sorry to disillusion you," he sighed. " Does she often uproot you like that, and force you to go where you don't want to be ? " He shook his head. " Not very often. Only when she has a new girl in mind." She stared at him. What on earth did he mean ? He realised her bewilderment, and hastened to explain. " Y°u see, Aunt Agatha believes that I should marry," he began. " Not just anyone, of course, but a girl with money. Tons of money. The more the merrier, in fact. Periodically she finds a new heiress, and drags me off to propose to her." Virginia looked down her piquant little nose. " And do you propose? " she inquired naively. He shook his head. " No, thus far, I have always managed to evade the issue. You sfee, Aunt Agatha has hopeless taste. She picks deucedly unattractive girls—apart from their money, of course—and it is quite easy for me to keep firm and refuse to tako the fatal step. I'm always tactful about it, of course.; Sometimes it's necessary to tell Aunt Agatha that I've proposed, and been refused. This is my last chance, however." " Oil, then you're hero after an heiress ? " lie reddened. " You put it bluntly, but that's the idea," he admitted. " Aunt Agatha brought me to the Lido for that precise purpose." " And if you don't, propose this time? ' He shrugged his shoulders. " Oh, in that case," he replied, " the family will wash their hands of me. Cut me off with a shilling, in fact." Virginia's frank blue eyes studied him intently. " And then ? " she prompted. " Oil, starvation or. something of that sort would follow," lie responded. " You see, I haven't a penny apart from the allowance my uncle makes me." "But couldn't you work?*-

He waved his hands hopelessly. " What at ? " he parried. " I have no profession, occupation, or even trade. I haven't been educated to work. I shouldn't know how to begin. Oh, I'd be quite willing to take a crack at it, but what could I do ? I can ride a horse passably well, but I'm tons too heavy to bo a jockey, which is the only way one J can make money by riding nowadays. I can drive a car, but I don't suppose my market value as a chauffeur would be high." " What do you intend to do ? His shoulders drooped. " Marry this girl, I suppose," he replied gloomily. "It will come to that some day, in any case, with the family continually ' pestering me. In a way, it is a family duty—so they tell me, at least." Virginia was watching the back of his neck, and was pleased to see it redden. He couldn't be so very bad if he was still ashamed of the position in which lie was placed. " Sounds rotten, doesn't it 1 '' he said frankly. " I detest the idea myself. But, all tho same I'll have to go through with it. After all, these girls come over here, trying to marry a husband with a title. Her money, my title —it will be a sort of exchange." " Then, she's an American ? " Ho nod'ded. " Yes, practically all heiresses are," he replied. " I can picture her; horn-rimmed spectacles, freckles, and probably protruding teeth—the last two had, anyway. She'll have a figure like a lamp-post, or a pillar box, and a high, shrill voice. Oh, and she'll giggle. They all do." Virginia laughed. " I can almost see her," she replied. He bowed. " Allow me to present the future Lady Blaydon!" He put his head on one side, and imitated a girlish simper. "'Pleased to meetcha, I'm sewer!'" She laughed again. " Oh, but she may not be as bad as all that," she protested. " She will be, every bit," he assured her. " Is she here now ?" " Yes, my aunt has made friends with her. I'll be introduced in due course." "What's her name?" sho asked. "1 might know her." He turned, with an expression of alarm. " Good Lord!" he exclaimed. " And you'll tell her what I've said !" " Don't be silly!" she retorted. " 1 wouldn't do that. I'm just curious, that's all. Besides, I could tell you whether you've been right about her or not." He shrugged his shoulders. " Oh, all right. I don't know her first name, but her surname is Saunders. I believe she owns a paint-and-varnish factory in America." Virginia was conscious of a dry, constricted feeling in her throat." " Paint-and-varnish ?" she echoed, tone, lessly. He failed to notice the change in her mannor. " Yes. Funny, isn't it?" he said, cheerfully. " Very funny," she agreed coldly. " Do vou know her ?" he asked. Virginia smiled dryly. " I know her quite well. She's not quite so bad as you've imagined. But—l don't think she'd consider marrying you." "Splendid!" said Lord Peter, enthusiastically. " Then it should be quite safe to propose to her. Surely that ought to satisfy Aunt Agatha!" Virginia shivered a little. Although the sun was at its height, she had begun to feel very chilly. She rose to her feet. " I must go back." she said. " My aunt will bo wondering where I am." She had intended to leave him, but he fell into step with her, and talked cheerfully all of the way, seeming not to notice her monosyllabic replies. When they were nearing the place where Mrs. OjjdenLodge was sitting, Lady Agatha Frinton espied them, and came hurrying up. She gave her nephew an arch look. "So you two have met already!" she exclaimed. " You didn't tell me, Peter. Are you becoming secretive, or have you just met this morning?" Ho looked blank. " I don't understand you," he protested. Lady Agatha stared at him. " You don't mean to tell me that you don't know each other's identities, when you are strolling together so intimately!" she exclaimed. " Miss Saunders, this is Lord Peter Blaydon, my nephew. Francis, this is Miss Virginia Saunders, the girl of whom I've spoken so much." Lord Peter turned to Virginia with consternation in his eyes. She gave him a scornful look. " Yes, I'm your paint-and-varnish heiress, she said, coldly. " Sorry to disappoint you about the freckles and protruding teeth. To save the trouble of proposing, please understand that I am not in the market for shop-soiled titles!" She turned on her heel and walked away, onlv marring the dignity of her departure fey adding the one word " Bluebeard !" in scornful, searing tones. (To bo continued on Saturday next)