THE STORYTELLER

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 8757, 12 June 1914, Page 4

THE STORYTELLER

THE RIGHT WOMAN—THE WRONG MAN CHAPTER IX. “GUul to make your acquaintance, mi.© s /’ J , . It was Freddies response to Daphnes eager introduction. He had shaken hands with all three, and now he stood uncertain and shy, awkward, and fiercely conscious of vague humiliation, not knowing what to do next. Susan, Bettina. and Peggy drew simultaneously back and stared. Who was this tail, fair ©tripling with manners of the British workman on such terms of amazing equality with Daphne? But this .was not the time for questions. Tho moments, the precious moments when they chuld have Daphne to themselves, were flying fast away. The same impulse always actuated all three together simultaneously they seized upon different parts of Daphne's person. “Oh, Daphne, come in a moment." entreated Susan. , , “We have looked, and looked, and looked for yon," announced Bettina. “Mother has gone to spend the evening at the Carterets’,” said Peggy - Peggy was always the one to appreciate earliest the crux of a situation. “You’re quite safe. Daphne, she won t be back for hours and hours yet." “Oh. do come in, just for a moment, begged the three in chorus, as Daphne hesitated between laughter and tears, and the dear compelling hands held her fast. “I’d like to,” she said, lifting her de-' prorating eyes to Freddie. “You don’t mind, do you?” "I don’t mind: of course not! said Freddie, a little huffily. "Don’t forget onr train goes'at ten minutes past nine, that’s all.” "Oh, I shall be back long before then. I mustn’t risk seeing Aunt Elizabeth. Where hhall I find you ? On that seat? I won’t bo long, Freddie.” and Daphne was gone. . He watched her go up tho steps of the hotel, Susan and Bettina each holding one of her arms, Peggy walking backwards in front, and ail talking at once, talking with an accent and enunciation Freddie had never heard in his life before until he knew Daphne. Then moodily he made his way to the chosen seat and lit a cigarette to beguile the time. J . "Swells, that's what they arc,” he told himself. “Toffs—real toffs!" And Daphne belonged to them. Daphne who had as good as promised to marry him only that morning. ' Black depression settled over him, though he could not have told why. And ho had not expected to feel that on the very day when Daphne should have as good as promised to marry him. And. meanwhile Daphne, in the cosiest chair the sittingroom held, with the three grouped on footstools about her, was tasting the delights of her old and already partly-forgotten existence. She gave a hand each to Susan and Bettina, and bent impulsively forward to kiss Peg. But one fear mnst be banished before she could fully enjoy herself. "Girls, are you sure?” she began. "Oh, quite! We daren't have done it if we hadn’t been sure. Mother is very bitter," said Susan. "She would never forgive' us,” announced Betty. . “If she knew we had (fared to have anything to do with yon," finished Betty. “Oh. we've rebelled." Susan took up the tale. “We've done all we dared, and more. Bettina defied her to her face, didn’t you, Betty?” “I looked for you everywhere," went on Betty, in her softest contralto. "I even put advertisements into papers. ‘Dearest Daphne, do, do write to your own BetA " “I’m sure you couldn't afford it,” returned Daphne, with a laugh that was half a sob. "And I couldn’t afford to buy any papers, so of conree X never saw them.” - "And I used to cry and make scenes,” said Peg. “Oh, I did my best to make mother miserable”—with acute satisfaction. "It wasn’t any use, she was adamant. But now we have found you wo don’t mean to lose you again. We are coming to see you, whatever mother says." "I daren't,” said Susan, blankly. “No, Susie daren’t," retorted the other two. “You eee." explained Peg. “Susie has difficulties of her own. to manage, and it’s no use complicating things, is it? But Betty and I haven't, thank goodness .and we’re coming! Where to. Daphne? Tell us, quick." For a moment Daphne hesitated. Her one room rose before her eyes—for in her anxiety to save money to pay Freddie she had only one room now—her one room with its oilcloth-covered floor, and even that worn into a hole by the door, with its rickety chairs, its red and blue tablecloth, its accommodating piece of furniture in one corner that looked'like a bookcase by day and was a bedstead at night, a piece of furniture that had an irritating trick of falling open when one least expected it, to the imminent danger of the heads of those sitting near, and displaying to an astonished world contents that should have been kept eacred behind its polite and polished panels. What would Susie and Betty and Peg say to that? With a little laugh, that had. a touch of defiance in. it. Daphne sat straight up. "Coma if you like," she said. "No. S, Carlton terrace. Warren road, Ravenscar. You’ll be shocked, but you’ll get over it. And now, girls, how long are you staying, and why are you hero?" “We are on the track of young Carteret. the ironmaster," explained Peggy. Peggy never minced the truth. “He seemed to rather take a fancy to Bettina, and mother isn’t losing any chances now. He -isn’t, of course, the kind of thing her fancy painted at first, but we’ve been out some time. It’s my second season, and Betty's third, and Susie’s fourth, and there isn’t one of us married yet. So when young Mr Carteret took a little notice of Betty, mother, aa I say, followed him up. You see, he has heaps of money, so it doesn’t much matter if old Sir Robert is a self-made man. You should hear mother. ‘So admirable. So truly great!’ It’s too funny for words when one knows how she really does feel!’’ "But he is admirable." objected Daphne warmly; ‘‘he is truly great. You should see what he does for hie workmen, how he thinks for them and cares for them I" "How do you know?" demanded Peggy. “He is my employer.” “Your what?" gasped Susie. “Daphne’s employer," said Bettina softly to herself. “Your employer!" echoed Peggy, ae though the word were beyond- her com prehension. Daphne threw her arms around all three. "Girls,” she said, and her sweet, low voice trembled, “I am a working woman. I meant to be when. I left Aunt Elizabeth, and I am. If you cannot accept tho fact and all that it entails ’’ “Accept!" said Peggy. "Oh, Peg, don’t shout so!” implored Susie. “Well, does she think wo can’t accept her?” remonstrated Peg. , "Does it matter in the least what she is as long as she is Daphne? Does it matter in the least what she does even if she marrice a working man. the very working man she introduced to us to-night?" “He isn’t a working man," interrupted Daphne indignantly. "I’m sure his father was." “Yes, his father was a bricklayer!” "And you are going to marry him?” (To be continued.)