WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 15820, 19 July 1913, Page 2

WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK.

[Published dy Arrangement.]

!| . . Bv .PAUL TRENT, ,' Author of "The Vow,'' " The\ Sacrifice," •I "The Foundling," eto./otc. i (Copyright.) j SYXOPSIS 01' I'IIEVIOUS CHAPIEIiS. • I CHAPTERS I and 11.--Cyrus Warner'.is the j youthful President oi fie American Steel Combine. His lady secretary, Christine Wood, is about to leave Sew Ynrlt 'lor England, and lie asks her I to sky or return, she tells him that slic promised | her dead mother to go lo her uncle, Robert i Craven,' also a steel magnate. Warner bluntly 1 asks Christine to marry hiin. She thinks ho only 1 wants a permanent secretary, aDd he does not | deny it, so she considers his nroposal an insult, I awd" tells him that she hates him.' She sails next I day, and duly arrives al her uncle's house at

■ Ironhaiaplon, where the. finds but u cool welcome. ! Itotec Craven's artist nephew, Claude, Mis his I uncle that lie is in . debt, ami asks for a re--1 mitiance. Old Craven replies that if he wants 1 money he must e.irr; :t, and decide* in his own

'mind that his ■ neicc Christine must marry his j nephew Claude.

When Christine awoke the sun was

■ shining brilliantly, and, jumping from her : bed, she ran to the window and looked . out. Ironhampton lay on the other side ■ of the house, and tor a few minutes she [ stood admiring the view. The depression of the night before had vanished, and when she went down to breakfast she was in the best of spirits. " Has Mt Craven had breakfast ?' she asked of the butler.- " No, miss. The master has had an i/j----1 tack of gout, and is not coming down." ! : Ohristine made no remark, but sat at '■ the table, and after the meal was oyer she summoned Mrs Hawkins, and during ! the' rest of the morning worked hard in making alterations to the drawing-room. After lunch she happened to go into the library, and was surprised to see her uncle seated in an armchair, with his leg resting on cushions. '< Good morning," she said quietly. •" Ring up the works and ask why Miss ', Foster Wasn't come," he answered curtly. Christine looked round for the telephone, and then proceeded to do as he wished. " Miss Foster is not al the office to-day. I She's ill," 'she informed him as she laid

down the receiver. • » "Confound it. They must send anothar typist. I've important letters to dic- : late." ; ' Perhaps I can take them down Ist ' y ou '" 1 Without waiting {or an answer she sat , at the table, and turned to him expect- ■ antly. "I am quite ready," she said with a smile. ' ' ••■,., ''Humph! I need a competent typist, '"i'rv me," she answered lightly."' His'look was contemptuous, and her heart hardened. , " What do you pay your typist.'' she asked with a smile. "Two pounds a week. She's a good

one." "I was paid in New York 30 dollars. That is six pounds a. week. I am quite ready. If you wish I can type as you dictate," she' said, for she had just noticed a machine in the corner.

She sat before it, inserted the paper and then waited with her fingers resting on the keys. ■ ■'. ' " You won't understand the technical terms," he grumbled. " Try me," she said confidently. Mt Craven began to dictate at a very rapid vatc, and 6he knew that he did so with deliberate malice. But her training with Warner made her equal to the strain, and she succeeded in keeping pace with him.

"Let me see what you've done," he said when he had given her half a dozen letUrs. ,

She brought them over to him, and watched him while lie examined them. A look of surprise appeared on his face, but vanished immediately.

"What were you doing in New York?" he asked sharply.

"I was confidential secretary to a gentleman. Do you want to know his name?"

"His name does not interest me," he

said impatiently. - "We'll go on "with, the I work. g Once he stopped, uttering a sharp cry j of pain, and she ixjsc to her ("net. but. was ! curtly told to sit down again. When he j had finished and the letteis were signed j she sat down beside him. j "About this letter lo Mr Warner. Is. he coming to England?" she asked. ''Probably." £ "Would you mind telling mc what your | business is with him?" I ''I think you'd better attend to the | housekeeping," he answered gruffly. "I've gathered from the other letters that I you are trying to form a steel trust on this side." } jj "It's practically formed." J "I would suggest that yon get it fixed j ud before Mr Warner comes," she went 5 on quietly. "And * I should suggest that you talk I about things you understand." S "As you wish. May I seek a favour? j Will yon allow me to do this work for | you? I shall feel much happier knowing that I am earning my living." "I don't pay Yankee salaries." "The hundred a year you're giving me | is all I want—of course, I shouldn't do it it' it would make any difference to Miss Foster," she added quickly. "You needn't worry about that, I'll think it ovsr." Christine was quite satisfied with the impresaion she had made, and decided to say ih> more. Ker uncle handed her the letters which hh had been answering, and the top 0110 was from Warner. It merely stated his intention of visiting England, and wished for an appointment. She knew that lie had had no such jouj-ney in his mind a couple of weeks ago, and a flush came to her face at the thought that she might be the cause of it. But she quickly dismissed the idea. There was another matter that caused her some concern. She knew that Warner had been in communication with the steel companies with which her uncle imagined that he had come to an arrangement, and it would seem that there was a possibility of a fight for supremacy. Could she tell her uncle what she knew! Should she place him on his guard? As soon as she asked herself the question she knew that it was impossible. She had been Warner's confidential servant, and had obtained the information in that capacity. Therefore it would be mean to betray him. But the knowledge of the comin!; struggle gave a zest to life, and she felt quite happy when the following morning her uncle once more made use of her services. They were hard at work when the door opened, and a young man camo in. He was fashionably dressed, with clear-cut features and a languid manner that was emphasised as he wearily sanK back into an armchair and lazily watched Christine. "A new secretary?" he drawled when . there was a pause. "No; your cousin. Take an example from her," M)' Craven snapped back. Claude Craven, for it was he, eyed t, Christine with increased interest, and she j, flushed a little beneath his stare, which, a however, had no suspicion of rudeness. "Well?" Mr Craven said sharply to j Claude. Christine rose as though she would leave b the room. t, "Sit down. I haven't finished. My nephew won't detain me long.. What is it ?" _ a ' "Your letter," Claude said quietly. "Wasn't it explicit?" h "Quite. It was that to which I object." _ "Have you dccided to settle down here— „ and work?" "I should be worse than useless. a ''But I should have the satisfaction of seeing you work. Look at your cousin." ( "I have been doing so with considerable , pleasure," he answered pointedly. "And s now that she is here I'm tempted to make [ a trial of it. But " "But?" f "My art calls me, and—of- course you { didn't mean what you wrote. I promise a • you that in the future I will keep within my allowance." . ( "You won't get the chance. I've changed my mind. You shan't have ] . another penny unless you settle down here i —and work," Mr Craven said grimly. r Claude thought of his many debts, and : knew that it would be useless to insist c further. I "Very well; I agree," he answered r sullenly. • "You'll get rid of the studio, and clear t everything up. How much?" "A couple of thousand would clear every- r thing." "Quite sure?" \ Claude thought for a moment. a "I can manage on fifteen hundred." "Christine, you,'ll find my cheque-book in the top drawer. Fill it in payable to Claude Craven." [ "Can't I do it?" Claude said quietly. "I asked your cousin. Sit down! I give t yon a week to settle things up." "I can manage it in a couple of days, r You won't mind my painting here in my 1 spare time—that is, if I have any." [ "Amuse yourself by any tomfoolery you like!" Mr Craven said irritably. s "Thank you. I think I'll stay to-night c and go up to town in the morning." 1 But Mr Craven had motioned Christine back to the typewriter, and was already c beginning to dictate. Claude looked on c for a while, but at last rose lazily and ] disappeared. When work was over, Chris- 1 tine had just time to dress and hurry down, j to dinner. Claude was standing in the ■ .drawing- c room, and she thought he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. ; "Our hard-hearted uncle does not dine j with, us," he said lightly, and then with grave politeness offered her his arm. "I'm t afraid you've been setting a bad example, i Uncle Robert will give me no peace." 1 "I'm glad. You look as if hard work would do you good. I'admire him for his t firmness." 1 "I'm hanged if I do!" he drawled, and their eyes met. "Besides, there's no 1 necessity for it." 1 "I can't understand a man being con- i tent to have everything given to him. Ho t misses half the sweetness of life—the joy i of striving —the " l "I willingly leave that to others. Be- i sides, I do work—l paint." 1 "Probably bad pictures." £ "I believe you're right," he answered 1 reflectively. " But still I do paint. After : dinner I'll show you some, of my work, l Now we'll talk about something more in- 1 teresting—yourself. You've come from 1 New York?" i "Yes." s "Are you going to stay here?" ' i "That depends upon Uncle Robert." I "Now I've got it. The portrait in the - library. You're the very image of it," i he said with unusual animation. "That must bo my mother. ■ May I see it?" ' ■! "Come along," he said, and they went * together. < Claude drew back the curtain, and for ' a long time she looked at the sweet face. ' Tears came to her eyes, and he walked ' away. But soon she joined him, and he proposed a visit to his "den." It was the ' first time she had been in the room, and < she was struck by the luxury and comfort. "I did those things in Paris," he :e- t marked with a wave of the hand to the 1 pictures on the wall. i She examined them curiously, and was ! surprised by their excellence, for she li;;d imagined him to be incompetent—she knew not why. "They are quite good," she exclaimed. "Thanks!" ; he said dryly. "1 should like to see sonic of your recent work. "I'm" ashamed to say there isn't any. But I'll change that, There's a room at ! the top of the house with a north light, and I'll fix up a studio. You, Christine, ■ Shall be my model, and I'll do something really decent," he said with boyish en- , thusiasm. : "I think you'd bettor reserve all your : energies for the works," she answered coldly. "I came down here with the intention of defying uncle, and, if necessary, doing without the allowance. Driven by necessity, I believe I'd have 'made good.' " "Why didn't yon? It would have been ■ the more manly course." "Perhaps you're right. But I. intend to stay hero. As I look back, it seems to me that I've never had any motive for work. Now I possess one," he said quietly, and she flushed a little under his steady gaze, but made no answer.

CHAPTER IV. The following morning Mr Craven was better, and made an appearance at the breakfast table, where Christine was already seated. "Claude not down yet?" he remarked drily. "You musn't expect him to get into business 'habits at once," Christine protested. "I don't," was the grim rejoinder. "He paints really well. Perhaps it is a pity that you have insisted " "That's my business," he snapped. "If he could really paint—and had back-bone —he would go through with it—in spite of me." As Mr Craven spoke, the door opened, and Claude name in, a smile on his face. "Good-morning, Uncle. Good-morning, Christine," he said, cheerily. "You must learn punctuality. It's essential to success in business," Mr Craven began severely. "Then I'd better arrange to have breakfast at the works. There won't be time to get back here. I was most interested in all I saw."

"Have you beei working this morning?" Christine asked eagerly. "I've been prospecting the place where I shall have to work."

Mr Craven grunted but made no remark.

"Uncle, I should like to go through everything—start at the bottom, I can see that' there's a lot to learn," Claude remarked quietly. "I'm glad you realise it. I'll have a talk to the manager this morning." "I saw Mr Bobertson, and he took me round."

"Hurry up with your breakfast. I shall te ready in five minutes," Mr Craven said and Jiastened away.

Claude looked at Christine, and there ras a merry twinkle in his eyes. _ "My worthy uncle was just a little surprised to find I'd started," he remarked. "I am so glad. I am sure it's the best thing for you." "If you hadn't been here, I should have gone back to London and faced poverty," he said pointedly, and a slight flush appeared on her cheeks. "Then lam glad I was here. I'm quite sure uncle meant what he said. _ He's not one to make idle threats; besides, he's becoming an old man " "I've never, wanted his money, only enough to get along on. As a matter of fact; I'm quite fond of Uncle Robert— I'd better hurry awav. or I shall be in his bad books. By-the-bye, axe you really pleased that I'm going to stay?'' "Yes," she answered, with evident sincerity. Christine accompanied him to the ha 1 .'., and a couple of minutes later Mr Criven joined them. "Uncle, are you sure you are quite fit to go to the office. You don't look at all well," she said, for she was struck by his pallor. "I'm all right, and there's work to be done. Come along Claude," he said brusquely. As soon as they had gone Christine began to effect the alterations which she had planned. In the course of the morning a decorator called, and it was arranged that the work should be commenced immediately. It was rarely that Mr Craven returned home to lunch, and she was quite glad to have something to occupy her. Christine had never been idle, and she wondered what she could do with herself when this work was finished.

Suddenly she began to think of her life in New York. As a matter of fact Cyrus Warner was often in her mind, and with the passing of time the feeling of bittenmss against him had not diminished. It wts so humiliating—to be asked in marriag-3--not as a wife—but as an amanuensis. A»d Christine knew that she was not ill-looking —Claude evidently admired her. Yet War-' ner had never regarded her as a woman. "I hate him!" she muttered feverishly.

In spite of this statement she found herself wondering if she would be likely to see him again. There was every prospect of it, for the > business with her uncle might bring them together. She was annoyed to find with what pleasure she viewed the possibility. When Mr Craven returned he announced his .intention of going to bed immediately, and so Claude and Christine dined alone. "I'm rather worried about uncle. I think he ought to consult a specialist. I hinted as much, and he snapped my head off. Won't you see what you can do with him?",

"He has worked too hard all his life." "I believe he's really ■ ill, but he's so obstinate. Won't you speak to him?" "I will do what I can, but I hardly think I have any influence."

"Uncle thinks'a lot of you."

Christine laughed heartily at the idea. I "I know he does," Claude said s^y"Perhaps he told you so," Christine said with another trilling laugh. "I understand him pretty well. Uncle's jolly glad to have you here; but he'll take good care that you don't know it. He'll grow very fond of you, and I suppose I ought .to be jealous, but I'm .not. Of course I've always thought that eventually I should come in for all he had. Now I know that I shan't. Look here, Christine, I believe in speaking frankly. I shouldn't care a hang if he left' you everything." "Claude, your'e talking nonsense—l've never thought or hoped " "I.quite believe that," he interrupted her hastily.

"You shouldn't have put such an idea into my mind."

"Nonsense. Your'e as near a relation as I am. You've as much right to his money aa I have."

"Which is no right at all," she 3aii3 quietly.

"We won't talk about it any more. But I should just like to say this—the fact that uncle is a rich man will make no difference to what I do or say." "We seem to he a pair of quite disinterested persons. It sounds incredible in these money-grabbing days. The curious fact is that we're both quite sincere about it. May I smoke my cigar in the drawing-room? Perhaps you will play." " I shall be pleased, she answered quite frankly. Christine was greatly attracted by this handsome cousin of hers, and quite enjoved her companionship with liim. The lack of brother or sister or other near relations had depriyed her of such an intimacy, and the plea6ure of it grew on her. • " You appear very happy," he remarked, when she paused in her playing. " I am." " Come and sit over here. I want you to tell me about your life in New York." Without any hesitation she gave him a brief account of her life, and he listened with undisguised interest. "Our lives make a nice contrast. I— a man—have lazed and idled, -while you—.l woman—have worked like a Trojan. What sort of a chap was your employer?" "He was a worker—and that's all. He! thought of nothing else." I " I intended to make up for lost time. Perhaps I shall develop into a worker. If I do it will be your —" " Nonsense—you've only been idle because "

"Because I had no motive for work. Now that I have one " " Good night! It's late, and I'm tired," she 6aid hurriedly. "Good night," he answered, and his eves were fixed on her, and followed ner from the room.

I When the door closed he sank back into ! a chair and sighed. _ . „ l 1 " What a woman to win for a wile," 'o J muttered, and, rising again, began to pace restlessly to and fro. Claude had many times imagined himself to be in love. His flirtations were innumerable, but they had lasted for only a week or two; and he was beginning to realise that the feeling towards Christine was something very different. She had aroused the better side of his nature. She had made him anxious to become more worthy of her. With Christine as his wife, work would nojonger be a drudgery, but a pleasure. And yet he knew that she would not be easily won. During the next few days he did ins duty at the works conscientiously, and \ when he returned home he made love just las conscientiously. At first Christine did i not understand, but finally realisation came, and 6he was greatly disturbed, for it was a complication which she had not anticipated. Mr Craven had had to remain in bed, but he still refused to consult a specialist, saying that he was content with the local doctor. However, he was not blind to what was going on in the house. Claude had pleased him by the attention which he was showing to Christine at home, but he made no remark upon either subject. Claude's .temperament would not allow him to exercise patience for any great length of time, and at last the opportunity for which he was looking arrived. Christine had been going to read to her uncle after dinner, but on this occasion he was oolggn "Come and play to me," Claude said persuasively, and he followed her into the drawing-room. But when the door was closed, he faced her. , "Why have you been avoiding me; he asked quietly. "I don't understand you—l "Please be frank. Yon have been avoiding me the last day or two. Is it because you know what I have to say!" "Claude—please." _ ( "I must say it—Christine, I haven t much to offer you—l've been an out-and-out waster, but I believe I can make good. From, the moment I saw you I realised that there was but one woman. I love you, Christine. Some dav, when lam worthy, will you be my wife?" ■ "I am so sorry, Claude. I tried to stop you from saying this. I do like you very much—l look upon you as my brother. But "

"Don't answer at once. Give me a chance. Perhaps in time " "It's no use. It would not-be fair to you." "Is there anyone else?" he asked desperately. "No—no!" she answered quickly, but a vivid flush came to her face.

"Then I shall not give (in."

"It's quite useless, Claude. I could never be your wife." There was such conviction in her voice that his heart sank.

"Is there no hope at all?" he asked very quietly, and at that moment her likin" for him increased, for he was taking the Mow like a man.

"None! But, Claude, I'm sorry. Yon won't let this make any difference?" she asked appealinglv. "I shall always love you. Good-night, dear."

He left her, and went to his room. It was the first real trial of his life. He wanted Christine .as he had never wanted anything. He was stirred to the depths by passion. • '"I must go away. I can't stay on here,' he said at last.

After breakfast in the morning he went to Mr Craven, who was in the library. "Uncle, I can't stand this life. I'm going back to London." Mr Craven cou!d not conceal his surprise. His keen eyes noted the dhango in Claude's bearing, and he wondered, but did not remark :t : .

"i'ou appreciate what this ni&inj. You

can rely upon no financial assistance from me," he said gravely. "I quite understand that. But still I must go," he answered, and the two men looked at one another steadily. (To be Continued.)