CONSCIENCE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3488, 18 January 1921, Page 46

CONSCIENCE.

BY ELIZABETH YORK MILLER. Author of ’’The Brass Box,” “Carry On, “The Sins of the Fathers,” etc., etc.

[Copyright.] CHAPTERS I—lV.—Old Lord Droone lips soldi Droone Castle to Alexander Flagg, millionaire. The latter has everything in the castle and its grounds repaired, refurbished, and renovated in every way. He arrives with his secretary in his sumptous car, followed by servants, dogs, etc., in six cars. At Bentlebury Vicarage the Rev. James Reavis’ two daughters, Loraine and Janet, see them arrive. Loraine is a blonde beauty, reared in poverty and clad in shabbiness, neither of which suits her type. Janet, in the same environment, has become acclimatised and content. Dennis Carr, a poor young student, son of a Don at Oxford, is in love with Loraine, but the vicar forbids the engagement for six months, knowing well the curse of poverty, and separates the lovers. Alexander Flagg calls at the vicarage, sees Loraine, falls in love at first sight, and invites the family to dine at the Castle. To make themselves presentable the sisters fall heavily into debt at Madame Irott’s establishment at Pent Cross. CHAPTERS Y — lX.— Tile Vicarage folk dres3 for dinner and are heartily welcomed by Alexander Flagg, who pays great attention to Loraine. The tie of friendship between Castle and Vicarage becomes stronger as time rolls on. Madame Trott sends in her bill to the Vicar. Loraine captures it and pays oyer Janet’s birthday gift on account. The Vicar gets measured for a new dresssuit, and Loraine for a new riding habit. She gets further into debt. Janet keeps Dennis Carr well posted as to Loraine's doings. _ She cannot avoid mentioning the millionaire, and Dennis’s suspicions and jealousy are aroused. In syite of her father’s interdict he comes to Bentlebury and interviews Loraine. She allows herself to become secretly engaged to Dennis. As soon as Dennis turned his back Loraine and her father go to the Castle for dinner. That night I’ kigg asks Loraine to be his wife. CHAPTER X. Alexander Flagg’s love-making was passionate and straight to the point. He had fallen desperately in love with the delicate pink and white daughter of the Vicarage. Everything about her thrilled him even her detached air; the coolness of her eyes, which sometimes crystallised into hardness; her frosty, superior smile and manner; her slim elegance, and even what he fancied might be her secret disdain of him. Flagg entirely forgot what he had said to the Vicar about choosing a woman who would love him as much as she loved his money. With Loraine it did not seem to matter. He loved her and that was almost enough for him. The girl had got into his very blood, and well she knew it. She had known when he piloted her towards the conservatory that evening that he meant to ask her to marry him All during dinner she had meditated upon what her answer should be. She had sat at table taking careful stock of the wonderful gold plate and priceless Venetian glass; her eyes had strayed to the tapestries and pictures and dark, silken rugs; she had measured the wealth of old oak, of damask, of the very servants and of the food on the table. She had gone over everything with a mental foot-rule. As the wife of Flagg and the mistress of Droone Castle she would be hung with jewels and could rend to Paris for her frocks. Always there would be motor cars and horses at her service. Fla™ had spoken of buying a yacht, of a villa on the Riviera, of a shooting box in Scotland—all with far less concern than Janet considered the cost of a breakfast egg. For those things the soul of Loraine Reavis longed as better people might sigh for heaven. To her, indeed, they had suddenly come to represent heaven. But they could only be hers together with Alexander Flagg, and secretly the man repelled her. She, who smiled jnto his eyes with that aloof air of superiority, was really afraid of him. When lie touched her hand, it trembled. There was something uncanny about him ; something unknown. She felt that once in his power, he would crush her utterly. And to-day's interview with Dennis had shaken her very much, for she believed that it was Dennis whom she loved and would always love. Oh, if only it were Dennis who hacl all this wealth ! But the wildest stretch of imagination could not envisage Dennis as the master, even by purchase, of Droone. The conservatory jutted out from one end of the ball-room, and Flagg had had it enlarged and entirely refitted. It was a really wonderful place, with its huge glass dome, mosaic floor, fountains and massive tropical trees and flowering plants. Lights had been devised cunningly in golden glass oranges and clusters of purple giapes; there were wicker seats upholstered in cool green linen, and tables here and there. In the fountains goldfish swam, while huge scented waterlilies floated on the surface. A feeling of faintness surged over Loraine at the thought of what she would give up if she said “No” to Mr Flagg’s proposal. She listened to him, wideeyed, terror secretly gripping her heart, while he stood before her," a veritable Midas, promising to dower her as never woman was dowered before. Jt was characteristic of him that during this scene he kept his cigar and puffed at it occasionally. There was something cuitsmptwous in the way in which he p->k< of James Reavis. “I didn’t trouble to a A the old l.nv’s permission,” ho said, “bemuse 1 didn't want him to thro-, himself w: mv chest and embrace me. You ran take it from me, Loraine, that if vuT! 1, o me t!m

parson won’t raise any more objection than a cat to a saucer of cream.” Loraine flushed slightly, but it would have been foolish to pretend that Flagg was wrong. The Vicar’s hopes were aIJ too obvious. Some people might have thought that he had thrown Loraine at Alexander Flagg’s head. “But it’s between you'n me, isn’t it?” he urged. “I want you. I never met a girl tliat’d got me so tied up in bow knots. I’ll give you everything—everything. You’ll walk on velvet and rose leaves all the rest of your life. I’ll settle half a million on you the day we’re married. How’s that ? Only, it'll be for so long as we stay married. I’m no fool, y' understand.” No, he wasn’t. If only he had been a little more of a fool and not so terribly sure of his own powers. “I’d have to think it over,” Loraine said faintly. “What’s there to think about? You either, take it or leave it. You know, now, in your heart, that you’re going to say yes. You know it, don’t you?” He threw away his cigar and sat down beside her on the wicker settee and the girl stifled a cry as he took her into his arms; not tenderly, as though she were a piece of china, but with a rough passion that left her breathless. His kisses still vd her. She thought she was drowning, dying. When he released her she was trembling pitifully. “You’re going to say yes, aren’t you?” he repeated, his face close to hers. “You’re going to give me the glory of the world, aren’t you? Tell me that you are.” “Will you let it bo a secret for a few weeks?” Loraine whispered. She could not quite make up her mind to let Dennis go, and she was afraid to say no to Alexander Flagg. He might not ask her again. “What do you want to keep it a secret for?” he demanded. “We could be married at once. What’s to hinder?” “Oh, no —no! I couldn’t! If you 11 wait. ... I mean, not say a word to anybody, even to father, or Janet ” “Y r ou mean that you’ll promise to marry me?” “Yes,” she managed to reply. “Then sav it.” “What?” “Say, ‘I promise on my word of honour to marry you.’ ” Loraine repeated what he had told her to with increasing faintness. She had promised and he might kill her if she broke her word. . At that moment she hated him desperately. “Let’s get back,” she said. “It’s so warm in here, I feel quite ill.” “You’re mine—mine,” he whispered close to her ear as they rose to return to the drawing room. “How long do you mean to keep me waiting?” “I simply refuse, to have it announced until after Christmas,” Loraine- replied, revived by a waft of the cooler air. “Very well. I’ll keep my side of the bargain. Until after Christmas muni’s the word, although I can’t imagine why.” It was well after eleven when the Vicar and his daughter started for home, and James Reavis was slightly disappointed that Loraine apparently had no news Co tell him. Her pallor and the proprietary roaaner if Flagg had convinced the Vicar" that something must have happened. Flagg did not act jike a man who had been refused; on the other hand, Loraine did not act in the least like a woman who had accepted. “Perhaps,” thought James, “she doesn't wish to tell me because of Dennis.” At the same time the thought of Dennis did not trouble him greatly. CHAPTER XI. The Frenchwoman had sent in her account twice, early in November and again in December, without receiving any response. The very small sums that Loraine might have paid on account had gone for new boots and evening slippers. Poor Janet was finding it increasingly hopeless to economise on the housekeeping, for all they accepted more and more hospitality from Flagg. Consorting with millionaires had its distinct disadvantages for this poverty-stricken household. The Vicar was obliged to entertain others beside Mr Flagg, or get himself disliked by his old parishioners. As t was, there was considerable division of opinion concerning the way he let Loraine ride about with Mr Flagg ; about Loraine's new clothes ; and also about an unfortunate contretemps which happened one night at the Castle, when Crawley, the butler, tooK it upon himself to pass the Vicar witn the port, considering that Mr Reavis had had quite enough already. The Vicar had been angry, and there was a bit of scene which the village soon heard ail about through Mrs Crawley. It was Loraine, however, who occasioned the greatest scandal. People connected her new clothes in some mysterious wa r with Alexander Flagg, and certainly there was some bond between the millionaire an 1 the Vicar’s elder daughter which called for explanation. Flagg behaved as thougn he owned her. yet it had leaked out through the postmistress that Loraine was still in correspondence with that nice, young Mr Carr. Christmas was rapidly approaching and James Reavis, perhaps thinking to bring matters in which lie should have hesitated to meddle to a head, mentioned casually at breakfast one frosty morning that no had invited Dennis to the Vicarage for a part of the holidays. Loraine stared at him, white-lipped, blank dismay in her eyes. “But father—-we shall be at the Castle practically the whole time?” she cried. ”T daresay Mr Flagg won’t object if ve bring our visitor,” the Vicar replied. There followed d I 11, nee during which •Teopf be/ - I pleading from one to th > other. Th n .im -ntm-ed ay. “But j-nivlv y m rot bo see Dennis, Lorie? And since f• < i doesn’t- object- — ” “I don't,'' Loraine interrupted passionately.

James Reavis was fairly satisfied. It was clear in his mind that Loraine was only waiting to accept Flagg when ne offered himself; and it seemed to him— James—that it would be a very good thing if Air Flagg realised that he had a rival. “Dennis has such a jealous disposition,” Loraine said, becoming plaintive. “It would be simply awful to have him imagining things about me and Mr Flagg“H’m,” sniffed Janet. “He wouldn't need much imagination for that.” “Janet, be quiet,” the Vicar said sternly. “Well, I’m afraid it’s inevitable. Ive asked Dennis and lie’s accepted. He ll be coming on Friday.” “On Friday ! Good gracious !” Janet jumped up and hurried to tell Betsy. To-day was Wednesday, and witn such scanty resources of labour, linen, and larder it would take all their time to prepare for the visitor. ’ The YRcar, refusing argument with Loraine, ambled off towards his study en trenched in a state of absent-mindedness that both of his daughters had found impenetrable on former occasions. Secretly, however, James was a muchworried man. He had accepted favours of Alexander Flagg; the other day even a small loan of money. He had tried a dozen times to brace himself to the point of coming straight out as a father and asking Flagg his intentions with regard to Loraine. But on each occasion there had been such a quizzical expression in the younger man’s eyes that his courage flickered out. It seemed to him that the presence of Dennis would bring matters to a head. The pity of it was that he did not know his frail-hearted daughter had secretly engaged herself to both of these men.

Loraine was in a great fright. It would appear that she must come to her decision even sooner than she intended. Could she give Dennis up? Could she give up Alexander Flagg’s money ? Would Flagg let her give him up ? She wanted neither to hurt Dennis’s feelings nor to lose him. His gentleness seemed peculiarly dear after the rough secret wooing of Flagg. When they were alone together, which was as often as he could manage it, Flagg forced his caresses with insistent hunger. She was his, all his, he told her over and over again. She had promised. Had any whisper of Dennis reached him ? He was such a peculiar man, reticent in so many unexpected ways, that she could not be sure how much or how little he knew. Loraine was caught hard and fast in a web of her own spinning. It should have been easy to have said no to Flagg, or to have sent Dennis gently but firmly away. Y et she had done neither. Even now, she could not bring herself to the point where she knew exactly what she wanted; or, rather, what ’ she really wanted was impossible—a combination of Dennis for her husband and Alexander Flagg’s money. Her head began to ache and she had just mentally voiced the opinion that troubles never come singly, when the door-bell rang. A decent interval passed during which Loraine wondered why neither Janet nor old Betsy answered the summons; then it rang again, and she condescended to go herself. It was as well. There on the doorstep, trim in a neatfittmg tailored suit and turban, with a bit of fur about her throat, her nose a little blue under a smartly-tied veil, stood the Frenchwoman, Madame Trott. Loraine’s heart sank; her blood froze. “Mademoiselle will excuse me. Possbily Mademoiselle ’as not receive’ the accounts I sent ’er?” “Oh, come in, please.” Loraine flung open the door of the drawing-room, and Madame Trott shivered as her glance fell upon the empty grate. “Ah, but it is cold ! I ’ave drive in an open voiture all the way. Pardon, Mademoiselle, but I ’ave the bad luck, otherwise I would not press you. The English, ladies pav so slowly, an’ my cousin in Pans, e must ’ave a cheque from me toute de suite, otherwise we cannot what you say?—’carry on.’ Mademoiselle understands, I am sure?” “But you said it didn’t matter if we if 1 didn’t pay for a year,” Loraine faltered. The Frenchwoman spread her hands in a national gesture. “It is true, Mademoiselle, that I say that. But ow can I know that none of the ladies pay unless T ask their ’usbands —or their fathers? ’Owever, Mademoiselle, it is only a little on account. Shall we say fifty pounds? An’ you come and buy some more pretty things, eh?” “No—no ! T mean I haven't so much as fifty shillings.” “So?” Madame’s eyes narrowed and her cold nose became a trifle more blue. “That is awkward for me. Mademoiselle. Now perhaps if I might see vour father ” “He hasn’t a penny !” Loraine cried desperately. l T mean, if you’d only wait. We—my sister and 1 told you that we’d have some money at Christmas ” “It ’as nothing to do with your sister,” the Frenchwoman said, her face growing harder and colder by the minute. “Your sister, she ’as the too great sense. No. Mademoiselle, I must ’ave fifty pounds now and the balance next week. It is not my fault that 1 bother you. I, too, am pressed. Surely, Mademoiselle, you know it is not all profit in my business. You ’ave the beautiful clothes, I must ’ave a little money. ’Ow am I to live an pay my own bills, unless? It is only fair, Mademoiselle.” Certain I v Loraine had to admit that it was only fair, yet the woman had tempted her. had .pressed extravagance upon her with the bland assurance that the day of reckoning was but a misty blur upon the horizon of the future. And 10, the future was—here ! In more wavs than one it was here, for in tho midst of the controversy, the drawin ■ tv i mi o) ipned and t hero stood A loxander Flagg in his riding cl..tl:<-«. his face

reddened by the wind, liis curious eyes reduced to mere pin pricks of interest, the inevitable cigar between his teeth. CHAPTER XII. “What’s the matter? A bill, eh?” Flagg enquired. The Frenchwoman half curtsied, and veiled her eyes discreetly. She knew Air Flagg. Who in the neighbourhood of Pent Cross did not? She had also heard gossip concerning him and the elder Aliss Reavis, but she was not one of those who feared that Air Flagg paid for Loraine's new clothes. She knew better about that. Flagg shifted his cigar, apparently oblivious of the fact that Loraine was" willing with shame and that it was very rude and impertinent of him to come in unannounced and to remain to ask questions. He carefully closed the door behind him, and since Loraine said nothing, he turned to Madame Trott. “How much does Miss Reavis owe you ? ’ he demanded bluntly. “Ah, Al’sieu', a trifle—scarcely worth mentioning. I am just explaining to Alademoiselle that 1 would not press her at all but for the fact ” “I ask you how much it is,” thundered Ilagg. “Ihats all that interests me.” The Frenchwoman’s eyes flashed, but her manner was meek enough as she took from her bag the statement of account she had brought and silently handed it to him. Flagg smiled over the cowed and whitefaced Loraine as he plunged a hand into his hip-pocket and brought forth, a thick wad of notes. “Luckily I sent to the bank yesterday,” he said. He b egan counting them out, and then with an air of exaggerated politeness tendered Aladame Trott his fountain pen and a stamp for the receipt. The latter she rejected with her haughty statement that she had one of her own. Loraine crumpled up on the couch covering her face with her hands. Never had she felt so humiliated—and all for a few rags of clothing that were already growing old. Y’et at the same time it was impossible not to feel overwhelming relief. “Good day to you,” said Flagg, holding wide the door for the Frenchwoman. “Bonjour, Al’sieu’ ; bonjour, Mademoiselle,” she replied curtly as she swept out. Then Loraine began to cry, very softly and miserably'. The man sat down beside her and took her cold little hands, pressing them to his lips, and soothing her with a tenderness that she would not have believed was in him. “Poor little girl ! Guess I know bow worried you’ve been. Why didn’t' vou tell me?” “You—you shouldn’t have done it!” Loraine cried. “I mean, of course, 1 tlianx you, but what on earth will people say ? ’ “Let them say,” Flagg retorted contemptuously. “And if it comes to that, why can’t I pay for your clothes if I like.' Ain’t we a-going to get married?” He took a flat leather case out of his breast pocket and handed it to her. “This just came, and I couldn't wait till Christmas for to give it to you. Open it, my pretty. It’s for you.” Loraine gasped as she pressed the spring and the lid flew back revealing a coiled string of milky' pearls on a bed of white velvet In the centre in a special depression of its own lay the clasp, i diamond and emerald ornament as big as a florin. "~ • Loraine knew, now, that no longer could she postpone making her definite choice. If she accepted this gift, the die was cast. Indeed, by allowing him to settle her debt to the Frenchwoman she had already com mitted herself. “Lorie, what’s the matter?” He was frightened by her strange manner. Her face was like that of x corpse in which the eyes alone lived. “Don’t- you like it? Ain’t it good

enough? Perhaps you’d like to ha .’3 chosen it yourself “No—no—it's simply wonderful. Thank you very much. And, Alex—l don’t think we need put off announcing our engagement any longer. Father is a little worried about me, I know; and —and there are other reasons.” Flagg got up abruptly, his square pugnacious features expressing triumph. “I thought the necklace’d fetch you around, Lorie. Good ! I'll go straight in and have a jaw with the parson about it. We’ll be married soon, eh?” ‘‘As soon as ever you like,” Loraine replied. Half an hour later Janet, with a shawl over her head, stumbled blindly across the road to the post office. It was her painful duty to despatch a telegram to Dennis Carr that would probably break his heart. In his study James Beavis was fingering a cheque for a thousand pounds which had just been given to him by the man who was to marry his daughter. It was for her trousseau and the wedding expenses. No doubt old Lord Droone would have disapproved thoroughly of such a proceeding, but his poorer kinsman felt there was really no choice in the matter. (To be continued).