THE WOOING OF MONICA. THE NOVELIST. CHAPTER V.—A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2379, 5 October 1899, Page 49

THE WOOING OF MONICA.

THE NOVELIST.

CHAPTER V.— A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY.

(PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

By L. T. MEADE,

Author of " The Medicine Lady," " The Siren," " The Yellow Drawing Room," " The Voice of a Charmer," " Scamp and I," "Dr Rumsey's Patient," etc., etc.

[COP Y RIGHT.]

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS,

CHAPTEKS I and ll.— Miss Mordaunt, cousin to Monica Douglas, informs her that her brother, Robert Mordaunt, is coming home from abroad. Mordaunt is Monica's guardian, a man of forty, and some twenty years older than his ward. He has privately informed his sister that lie intends to marry Monica, as her money will be useful to him. Monica is engaged to a briefless bairister named Laurence Kinsley. Robert arrives, and she resolves to tell him about her engagement next morning.

CHAPTERS 111 and IV.— Monica informs her guaidian of her engagement, and Mordaunt calls upon Kinsley. Concealing his real feelings behind an impenetrable mask of seeming friendship he forms a favourable impression of both, though Monica has somewhat of a feeling that Satan himself is lurking behind the smilo ho assumed. Kinsley tells him he is the son of the man who was killed by falling over a. precipice, and about whose death a mystery hung. Kinsley declares that he suspects foul play, and is determined to tragic out his father's muiderer. Mordaunt, aft^iTis interview with Kinsley, calls, upon a certain Mr Christopher l-'indlay.

INDLAY hurried to obey. Mordaunt meanwhile sank down into the chair which was held sacred to the master of the establishment. Findlay, -without apparently noticing this fact, pulled forward an ordinary chair, and faced Mordaunt. " Well," said Mordaunt, " we will go briefly into ordinary business, and then I will tell you why I called. How are things going?" " Pretty well, Mr Mordaunt, pretty well." "Is that last syndicate started yet?" '■ There is every prospect of its being floated within a week or so." ■ Tint is good. I have particulars to give you which will practically clinch the business. F have not been in South Africa for nothing. I have brought home .specimens of the o>f\ It ought to create a treu.uidous boom. Who are the directors?" i'mdlay ie:«, end from under a heap nf pippi.-. m basket drew out a large k n hi .1 '■hoL't. Mordaunt looked carefully ov» d. V-li, Lord Wilberforce," ho said A "and

Sir John Mackay, and Alderman Findlater. But we must have " He mentioned one or two well-known city names. '" I have approached them," said Findlay. " but they will have nothing to do with it. The "fact is, they remember the last fiasco with the diamond mines at Kimberley." , " You have managed matters badly, rindlay ; you should have secured their names-, they would have ensured the thing. lam willing to pay well, do they understand that?" •'The fact of directors taking large sums of money has been too much advertised lately to make it safe,'' said Findlay, in a low voice. "Well, well, we must manage to get them somehow,"' said Mordaunt. '" 1 have not come home an hour too soon. If my name appears on the list of directors, eh?" " Oh ! Mr Mordaunt, if you will consent to that, it will work wonders. You arc considered such a very safe man. Nothing you touch <ever fails ; that is the supposed idea." "We will continue to let it be the supposed idea," said ■ Mordaunt, very gravely. " I shall soon be in a position to put a large sum of money into some of these speculations. I mean to die a millionaire ; j-ou, Christopher, understand?" "I understand, sir." Mordaunt gazed attentively at him for a few moments. " How are 3 r ou yourself ?" he said, abruptly. "You don't look too well." " Only the ordinary cares of life, Mi Mordaunt." Findlay shrugged his shoulders, and his gentle affectionate blue eyes travelled all over his patron's face. " You want me to make a good appearance, and I find it a very tight business," said Findlay, at last. " A tight business on eight hundred a year! You are exorbitant." " When a man has to pose as a millionaire on eight hundred a year, it is a very tough job, Mr Mordaunt." " Nonsense ! Who wants you to pose as a millionaire? You naturally must pose as a wealthy man. What about your carriage?" "I have given it up. lam very sorry." Mordaunt sprang to his feet. "Are you mad?" he said. "Don't you remember our contract? Do you think that I cannot get a better man into your shoes at a moment's notice? I have such a man in my mind's eye at this very moment. You must have that carriage back again." " Can you give me a little extra money then, Mr Mordaunt? For there is 1 lie wife at home, and I have five young children. It is impossible for me to do more than I do." " I will see what I can arrange. That crrriage must be at your disposal. Order it from the livery stables immediately — h smart little brougham to bring yni here in the morning, to take j-ou round to "visit clients, and to call for you at night, it must be done, Findlay, there must be no retrenchment of any kind. I repeat, I will find the means." '' Am I authorised to say that you will j pay the account at the livery stables?" faWi Findlay, after a moment's pause. Mordaiin'ii hesitated and thought. '" Yes," he said. He walked to the window and looked out. " I shall be here all day to-morrow," he continued. ."The whole business has to be gone into. I shall come early in the morning and remain here wilii you. Of Conine, you will mention to no one that I am in town. If anybody hear* that I am with you, you simply .say that you have induced the great traveller, Robert Mordaunt, to become one of the new syndicate. The mere -fact of my knowing all that part of .South Africa so intimately will give a feeling of security which even Lord Wilberforce's name would scarcely secure to the syndicate. Yes, Findlay, you can put it in that way ; I have consented. You can also throw out a hint that I am willing to speak at the next meeting of the directors. I shall then produce my specimen ore, and practically the thing will bo clit ched." " It will be a very big thing, Mr Mordaunt." " The biggest boom in the market for the last year or two," said Mordaunt, rubbing his hands excitedly. "I believe so, sir, and if it fails- " "But why should it fail, Findlay? What, | a nervous, chicken-hearted creatui'c you are ! Why shouM it fail? " j " I don"t know, sir ; but these baseless, I bottomless things, these fiends of the pit, generally do come .to grief, somehow." "Findlay, what do you mean?" Mordaunt took a step forward and gazed intently into the nervous face of the little man before him. '" You had belter say nothing of that sort again," lie said. "As I said a moment ago, there are better men than you to step into your shoes. Think of j your wife and children." "I do think of them, sir." " I shall come down to Clapham Common to pay you all a visit some evening soon. Be sure you do your best. Tiiy the way, | your wife knows nothing of my true posi- ; ik.n? f " " Nothing, sir." " She believes that you really are the ! head of this firm ? " I " She is very much puzzled at my conj slant want of money ; but she practically I does believe it. The fact is, I tell her very, ' very little about the business." I " Then that is all right. Findlay, it is in my power to make you comfortable ; to relieve your wife of all money worries. I want you to do me a service." Findlay's face became by no means elated at this proposal. He knew beforehand the sort of services which Robert Mordaunt required. He stood and hesitated. "I often think," he said reflectively, " that " "What?" " Oh ! nothing, sir ; nothing. What is it you require? " " I shall not tell you to-day, nor for a little time ; but there is something which I shall want you to do, and before very long. In the meantime you have too much ■ work at this office ; I propose that you should be helped by an -efficient secretary.." " '

" Oh, indeed ; but I think I can manage,* said Findlay. Mordaunt held up Ms hand. " Nothing of the sort ; I know lliu very man — an excellent, clever. f el lowf a barrister. Ho shall come here and assist you in ygur work. He is a steady fellow, like a rock ; he is just the very man ] want. Besides, I am anxious to give him a, leg up." Oh, indeed, sir. "He will probably bn here next week*,perhaps sooner. lam the last man to allow the grass to grow under my fee*;. When he comes, you quire understand the absolute and complete reticence which is required of you." "Naturally, Mr Mordaunt." '' *| y° u ou t even one hint to Laurence Kinsley " "Good heavens!" said the clerk, stepping back and turning white as death •'Kinsley.' Did you say Kinsley, sir?" "I did," replied Mordaunt. His wdrds came out very slowly and with marked emphasis. "What is the matter with your 1 "Oh, nothing; nothing."' Findlay took out a silk pocket-handkerchief, and wiped large drops of moisture from liis brow. "It's all right, of course, Mr Mordaunt," he said. 'Laurence Kinsley, you said?" "Ye&. Wiiat is at the back of your head man? " ' "Nothing." " Perhaps you are thinking of the poor fellow, Michael Kinsley, who lost his life in .Derbyshire three years ago?" said Mordaunt, slowly. "Mr Mordaunt, you are a wonderful man, sir. I did. not say " <%Y i» ou wero tninkin g ( >f him, were you "It just Hashed through my mind, sir : the same name, you understand." " I may as well tell you at once that the young man who is to be your secretary ia the son of that man." "Oh! good God! I cannot consent to having the son of Michael Kinsley as my secretary." "I know, Christopher, you naturally feel a little upset at the moment ; but you will consent by to-morrow. You will go home and think of your wife and children. In the meantime here is a cheque for fifty pounds ; buy your wife a present, a trinket, lake her to the theatre to-night ; go home quickly, you need not waste any more tinie now. What, you refuse that cheque?" "! " Findlay gazed at the cheque which lay on the table as though it were a serpent, then he pulled it towards him and slipped it into his pocket. "Thank j'ou, thank you, Mr Mordaunt,' 1 he £aid._ Mordaunt gave a very gentle, very satirical .smile. " I will wish you good-day," he said, "for the present. l shall be here early in the morning. Enjoy yourself to-night, Christopher ; enjoy yourself to-night." I Mordaunt left the room, went down.stairs, and out into the street. As soon as j ever he was alone, Christopher Findlay pulled the cheque out of his pocket. 110 laid it down on the table in front of him, fend gazed at it with the most terror-stricke.i face a man could wear. "Fifty pounds!" he muttered to himself, " and we want the money sorely. It will pay the baker's and the butcher's bill. That fiend in human shape, Robert Mordaunt, does not suppose that 1 will buy jewellery with it and tickets for the theatre. He little knows the" hole I am in, and 1 dara not tell him. I should be imprisoned ; I should pass the rest of my life in penal .servitude if all were known. Why did I ever, ever enter into the service ot such- ,», devil? But I did, and I am fast in his clutches now. God in heaven have merev upon me. What is this fresh move? Windoes he want to bring that young man here? The son — the son of the man ha murdered. How can he bring him here? How dare he do it? And I am to be his tool. But have I not been his tool from the very first, from that moment when in an evil hour I asked him to lend, me five pounds, and he consented? Ever since then I have been steeped deeper and deeper in misery. The wife and the innocent children, they know nothing. Did they know, it would ' kill them — it "would at least kill the wife. Why is my hair while? Why ia my back bent? Why am lan old man and not 50 yet? Because of llobert Mordaunt. Oh, why was I ever born! And I dare not refuse him. He has .some move iirliis head winch is deeper and more infamous than anything lie Ivis yet done. He murdered Uichuol Kinsley. £ was the tool,, the cat'spaw ; lie was the instigator, I the one who j did the deed. He has always sheltered himself behind others, that is where liis devilish ingenuity comes in. And now the son of the murdored man is to come here. Why, the ghost of the man who was hurried into his grave will visit me.- I shall be haunted — but 1 am haunted already. I am the most miserable humnn J being on God's earth !" CHAPTER VI.— A PIECE OF NEWS. Monica was home early that afternoon. She went up to her room, sent for her maid, and dressed quickly for dinner. She was excited and felt full of pleasurable anticipation ; but she had not the faintest idea of the treat in store for her, for Mordaunt had taken good care ■ that no quo should inform her 'of the fact that her ' lover, Laurence Kinsley, was to dine there that evening. Her high- spirits, however, were rellected in her face. "It is good to see you, miss," said her maid' Conner. " You were so low and depressed, even though you are engaged to that remarkably nice gentleman." ■' Oh, it is the return of my guardian," said the girl in an innocent voice ; "he is such a charming man, Conner. Have you seen him yet?" " I have,"' .said Conner in a low voice. '' Don't you admire him. Don't you think him very handsome? " " It's not for me to make a remark about mv betters," said the girl. " How queer you look, Conner. You are generally very outspoken ; yon generally quite forget our relative positions. Not that I want to remind you of them, but now, what do you really think of Mr Mordaunt? Do tell me. I give you leave, so you can speak freely,"

'.-"He is the sort of man I would be- in mortal terror of," said the maid. " There, 'miss, I'm very sorry, but I don't think the servants in the house like him. They all admit that he is handsome, and they would "do anything he asked them simply because !he lias a way with him ; but as to liking > — if I were you, Miss Douglas, I would be ,T)n my guard — yes. that I would." " Oh, nonsense, Conner, you are absurdly prejudiced. My guardian is an excellent man. Do you think my dear, dear father "would have committed all my affairs into ibis hands if he did not know Robert Mor'daunt as well as he knew himself? Why, nay father was pimply devoted to him ; he /was always talking of him ; his genius, his Straight, honourable life. I don't think it is right of you, Conner ; it is very uncharitable to talk like that. If you hear /the servants making remarks of that sort, jput them down, won't you ? " - "If it is your wish, miss, I will. Not Jfchat'l have a great deal of influence in the {servants' hall. The master is dreaded "there more than loved, and I suppose there %s some reason for it. Oh. everybody likes IMiss Mordaunt, though nobody thinks a sgrk"at deal of her ; but she is liked well <e*?bugh ; she is a good-natured sort of lady. CBut as to the master, well, miss, I only re- !>"**' t what I hear, bufc if you wish it I'll Ife p my own counsel in future." 'To me, at least, keep your own counter-," said Monica, in a haughty tone. " I 'fig not choose to have my guardian ma'"Ugned." j Oh ! miss, I don't believe he is ma■fffpned." another word, Conner." " Which dress will you wear to-night, Qliss Douglas?" ,_ "My black, with the jet — the same as last night." i^The maid helped her mistress on with jthe glittering robe ; it clung close to Monica's lissom figure, added to her height land extreme slenderness. It gave her a jbort of queenly beauty. To-night she wore c corqnet of jet in her hair, which brought rout its many lights, and gave a sort of Jpoung majesty to her loveliness. She then Jan downstairs. , In the drawing room, to her astonishJment, she saw Robert Mordaunt waiting !tfor her. It still wanted half an hour to IMonica had resolved to pass the jjtime reading some new magazines which ,*ihe had seen uncufc on one of the tables. Jphe was approaching the table in question Ijrlien Mordaunt's voice caused her to start. |He was standing on the hearthrug in full evening dress. 1 "Come here, Monica," he said. "I have ]). piece of news for you." She went up to "him. • "Yes, Robert? " she said. " Ah ! that's a good girl. I like to hear the way you say ' Robert.' You drop it out with a certain hesitation which gives .'it an unwonted charm. There are very iew people in the world who call rae 'Rofcert.' What do you think of the name? •Does ib remind you of Robert le Diable?" "No, no, I never think of that name in . connection with yours," said Monica, v Iflush of distress on her face. "My dear little girl, and yet I am very closely akin to the Evil One." The man took her hand and held it playfully. then Ms eyes grew sombre, and he looked full into her face. " No, you are not," said Monica. " What is the matter" with you, Motaica? You quite tremble and you turn jpale." "I am angry about something,"' said the girl. "What?" "In the servants' hall they dread yon ; , Ihey do not love you "as you o"ght to be loved." «, "Ah, my dear girl, and do you think that affects me? I am rather pleased than otherwise. I should hate to be universally ibved." " Would you? But surely that would be Snost men's ambition?" "Not mine,"' said Mordaunt, with a light laugh. "I want to be loved devotedly by one woman, I want to be respected by all my men friends ; for the test, if the world cares to hate me, let it —I am indifferent." "You are very strong, cousin." "You must drop that name. Say 'You >re veisy strong, Robert.' " "You compel me," said Monica; "but I will say it: 'You are very strong, Robert.' " "Again that sweet note upon my name •—that sort of lingering sound. It is very, very refreshing. You are a very captivating little morsel. I am not at all surprised that Laurence Kinsley should wish to secure you as soon as possible." Monica coloured, withdrew her hand from Mordaunt's, and stepped back. She had absolutely in this short interview forgotten Kinsley';; existence. Mordaunt watched her face narrowly. He was. say ing to himself: " Already she is beginning to fall in love fcrith me; she "w ill be mine with perfect isase within a month. We can marry in Jess than two months from now. Her fortune will save me." He rubbed his hands together for a moflient, then stepping back, drew himself ;up and said gently : " You are not curious. I was going to .tell you something ; you have never asked me what it is." "I will ask you now," answered Monica. ""What is it?" "I have a treat in store for you." "How very good of you.' "Will you guess what that treat is?" " How can I? ' "Make three guesses. I will tell you when you have guessed three time?. If you guess right you shall have six pairs of gloves. Is it done? " ' Yes, certainly ; but if I guecs wrong 1 ought to give you six pairs of gloves." " No; never mind that ; I will give you Six pairs if you guess right. Now then, guess number one." " You are going to play on the zither and piano after dinner ; yon are going to draw our hearts out of us. I have been restless since I last heaid that wonderful music." "That ia a, clever guess on your part,

Monica ; bvt it is unfortunately incorrect. I may or may not play on the zither and piano after dinner this evening, but 1 do not think I shall draw your heart from your breast/ "I must guess again."' «aid the girl. "I am not going out anywhere at present, or 1 should. have' said you had got stalls at the play most in vogue ot the present hour." " Wrong again, Monica ; now be careful, you have only one guess more or you lose the gloves." "Well, , what can it be?" "Her eyes sparkled ; she drew a little closer. " You have seen Laurence? " " Now bs carefui ; go on," he said. " You have seen Laurence, and you — you like him as he deserves to be liked, and-Troh, I think I have guessed, he is coming to see you this evening. Am I right? Yes, I see I am right by your eyes." " " You have so nearly guessed the truth, Monica, that you shall have the gloves. It is even. better than you thought. I have seen your lover, I like him extremely, he is to dine here to-night ; we will hear his ring any moment. I am glad you have made yourself look so very charming." " Oh, Robert, you are goc4, you are good!" " You tempt me to go to extremes. Monica ; j-ou have a very taking way. I could ask you to bestow a cousin's privilege upon me, but I won't — no, not yet. Don't be frightened, my dear girl. Why, Jiow painiully you colour. Ah ! there is KinsJey's ring,*; now you shall see him alone. Oh! I know, I am full of sympathy; you shall see him alone. I am going to my study for the next quarter of an hour. The fact is, I gave him the wrong hour for dinner ; I thought you would like tff have a little conversation first." Mordaunt went out of the room, and a moment later Laurence Kinsley was announced. Monica went lip to him — there was no one else present ; she flung her arms round his neck, looked into his eyes, and said ecstatically, " Oh, what a, lucky girl I am ! What a delightful guardian mine is ! Laurence, dear Laurence, how good of him to ask you here !" "You are quite excited. Monica," said her lover. ' % Yes, I have come, and I believe that Mordaunt will do all that Aye can hepe. He seems a very goud fellow." "Isn't he jufet splendid?"' said the girl. "He certainly seems a very good sort. Now let us sit here and have a talk." They sat down side by Fide. " When did you get your invitation, Laurence? Did he call on you?" " Yes, this morning ; we had a little talk." ' "Is it arranged, then? He consents to our engagement?" j " Not so quickly, my darling. Mor- ■ daunt is a reserved man, and does not wear | his heart on his sleeve, but we are to talk | I things over to-night, and 1 have not the j slightest doubt matters will be arranged. He spoke of you as rich, though, Monica ; that is the only thing." "Well, and what if I am? My money is not mine, it is yours. We can make splendid use of our money." " I do sincerely trust, Monica, you arc not very rich." "Ohl I am sure I am not very rich. Laurence ; you would not mind if I had five hundred a year, for instance?" 'No, but I sincerely trust you have not a penny more." ' Laurence, how strong and happy you make me feel. I, too, hope I have not any more. Five hundred a year would be plenty ; and we could marry and keep a little house in West Kensington, and I should be waiting every night for you. I have never had a real home of my own, for you know my dear father travelled about from place to place." Just then Miss Mordaunt came into the room. She had been told by her brother that Laurence Kinsley was expected, and in consequence the necessary number of places had been prepared at dinner. She came in looking nervous and flushed. Miss Mordaunt had been certainly anything but at her ease since her brother's return. Monica, whose cheeks were glowing with happiness and her eyes shining brightly, jumped up at once when that lady appeared. " Your brother has done this, Laura," she said. "Isn't it kind of him? Laurence is so glad to come. You never ventured to ask him here." " Oh ! my dear, I would gladly if I could. It was not quite in my power. How do you do, Mr Kinsley?"' Kinsley shook hands, warmly with the lady. Just then Mordaunt appeared, and a moment kited dinuei was announced. KinsIcy took Mi&s Mordaunt down, and Mord mnb followed witli Monica's hand resting lightly on his arm. " Tou have made me so happy, cousin,' said the girl. ''There is one word in that speech of yours, Monica, which I resent." " Oh ! but I must .sometimes say it ; I like to feel that you are my very own relation — it gives me a .sort of claim on you." '' Yon have put it so charmingly, Monica, lliat J do not object to the a\ohl any longer." They cnlorcrl the dining room. Monica's place wms iiL'in Moid. urn(., hut most (if tlic conversation (hiring the nicnl wiik between the two mcii. Mordfinnf, looked ln i < vui v best; lie avw liuil penile, jsviii|>tithelii: nir ■vi hifli huL m» plrfiwintly on hm hj-iid'oinc features. In pnvjiti* life In* ; v\ I r< 1 1 1 • ■I v un.seliisli, hliinmij/ ili/il iiiixclfh Ihicpfi hi \w>hl and deod on eveiy pof-sibln iininimi, l''oi instance, now il wim In* 'nc lo miiy linn self into insignificiuico and lo ilimav Kni-I»y out. lie dexterously led I In; niiy lo fh<i«» subjects with which Kinr-ley wn« fiil'v ny quuintrd.. Tie j;ot Kinsley In I,ilk >•<= lif> had seldom talked before, fur lir wiip nol n specially brilliant man, nor in nny vs-iy » L'reat eonverfeatit.omli.st ; but Id infill, «li»ini lated by •Morduiint/.s good wiw-n, ihkl thn loving glances which ho constantly fell iijhhi him from Monica's bright eyes, lie cjhtlli 1 '" himself. Kiusley could .never bo exactly handsome, but he had a face which was » pleasure to look at, so ste.iidfu.sl und true were the eyes, so open and above-board the whole expression. The dinner jjufe&ed quickly, and aoon the

moment came Avhen the ladies Avere to go upstairs. The only person who had not been thoroughly satisfied ancl thoroughly happy during the meal Avas Miss Mordaunt. She showed her nervousness very markedly Avhen she entered the draAving room. " Monica,*' she said, "I Avant to ask you something." " What, dear Laura? HaA'e you a headache? You don't look well." " I don't feel Avell ; but pray do not let us talk of me or my ailments. I have something to say to you on your oavii account." "What can it be, Laura? Your manner quite frightens me." " I Avant you to get Robert to consent to jour engagement at once." "Why, of course Jie Avill.*' "In case he refuses to consent to it, I Avant you tc "' "Yes, Laura, -Avhat? "' " I Avant you to marry Laurence Kinsley Avithout his consent." *'■ My dear, dear Laura, Avhat do you mean? " "As you love me, Monica, you must never breathe of this. I cannot tell you N Monica, at Avhat extreme risk I haA'e said the Avords I have.- Ponder them, think of them ; I am not speaking without reason. Marry that good man ; be his Avife, and yon Avill be safe. Don't let him go, Monica ; 1 have taken an immense fancyto him — I know he Avill make you happy ; marry him, dear, persuade him to many you "at once. After all, once you are married, you are safe." " I cannot understand you ; you must have some reason for saying these Avords." " I have.*' "Won't you tell nje?" " NeA'er." " Laura, how mysterious you are ! " " I haA"e a bad headache ; I am not at all well. I would not say Avhat I do if a great strain were not placed upon me, a great sense of duty. P>elieve that, and try j to act upon my advice. You have plenty I of pluck, plenty of endurance, plenty of stability ; don't get to think my brother too fascinating. Oh, j-ou are not the fir&t woman oA"er Avhom he has cast his spells ; you like him, I see." j "Like him, I should think so." | " I beseech of you, .Monica, don't like i him too Arell ; don't trust him too fully, j Oh! my God, I have spoken. If you ever j reveal Avhat I have now said, I am un- ; done." " Of course I'll neA'er reveal it, Laura ; I am not that sort of girl." " I know it, therefore I have ventured to trust you and partly to deliver my soul. Oh, Monica, be brave, be true to the man, the faithful man who has given you his heart."' (To be continued.)