THE HEIRS.

Otago Witness, Issue 3803, 1 February 1927, Page 80

THE HEIRS.

By

Dale Craven.

(Copyright.—For the Witness.) On a certain night in April, in one ofthese post-war years, terrific rows were going on in the homes of Peter Watson and Elijah Swaine, two prosperous, selfmade men, two men hard of grain and determined, and men at bitterest enmity one with the other. It was a row which touched each in his most sensitive point, for it arose out of the decision of the only child and heiress of one to marry the old child apd son of the other. Of the two rows that between Peter and his daughter, Betty, was the more interesting, because it revealed a stiff strain in her that he had never suspected. “Dad,” she said, sitting across the arm of a divan and swinging her legs, “I’ve got some news for you. Jack Swaine and I are going to be married.” Peter, in the act of lighting his pipe, burned his fingers in his amazement. When he recovered breath his answer was characteristically short. “You’re not.” She laughed. “Don’t you make any riiistake, dad. It’s all arranged; the date and everything. "The only thing you have to do is to smile and say you agree.” “Never while I live!” He thumped the table. “To that slinking son of a rogue “Steady, dad!” If he hadn’t been furious he would have recognised what that sudden coldness in her tone meant. “You’re speaking of my future husband and your future son-in-law.” ' “Where is he?” he demanded. “Why doesn’t lie' come arid ask for himself? Just because he isn’t man enough.. That’s why?- I’d tell him a thing or two.’’ “Well, you’ll have your chance. He’s coming along, soon—to-night.” < “Is he? Then he’ll learn something.. Where is .he now? Why isn’t he' here in-, stead of leavi.ng it to you?” She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. • “Well, at a guess, I should say that he is having a row with his father, and is being cut off with a shilling, or perhaps not even that.” He grunted. “Then ’Lije Swaine has more sense than I gave him credit for.” “And until he comes,”.she went on, still on the arm of the divan, still swinging her legs, and looking provokingly cool, “I’m breaking the ice.” “And you’ll find it colder than you thought. I tell you, I won’t have it. I won’t have that chap ” “Dad,” she interrupted. “Just one thing. You seem to be forgetting it; It’s Jack and I who propose to marry, not you, or Mr Swaine.” “I’ll never allow it. That’s- first and last.” “I don’t know how you will prevent it. Just consider what you are saying, , my dear Dad. Two young people propose to order their lives as it seems to them best; and they happen to be deeply, but. not foolishly, in love with each other. We, Jack and I, have gone into it pretty thoroughly and expect that neither you nor his father will be pleased, but we don’t propose: to • suffer simply because you and he have -some sort of foolish and long--standing quarrel. We are asking your consent, in a way, nominally, because we wish to think you will agree, but whatever happens, married we shall be.” “I’ll cut you off with a shilling.” She smiled, “Arid so ; will Mr Swaine. We’ve reckoned : on that.” “How do you expect to live, missy?” “By working.” “By working,” mockingly. “He hasn’t worked in his life, and you’d make a mighty smart mess of it.” “Don’t forget that Jack went straight from college into th© army, Dad,, and hasn’t been altogether idle since. As for myself, I’d just love keeping a-'hpme for Jack, and maybe I wouldn’t be such a fool at it as you think.” “Go to bed, and let me hear no more of this nonsense.’.’ “Most certainly, not.” “Go to bed, and I’ll see t you stay in your room until you’ve come back to your senses.” ‘‘The Victorian father,” she laughed, but there was a glint in her eyes. “Any more of that sauce,’’ he shouted, “and I’ll take my. hands to you.’’ “Do you know what you are saying-?-” She sprang to her feet and faced him. “If, as you say, you take your hands to me I’ll make you regret it . inside two minutes.” . - “You saucy hussy.” He sprang to his feet, hands outstretched.- Next minute the back of his chair hit him, and hard, on the head. He had a feeling that-he was falling through space; he was aware that his short legs were in the air. Then

he knew that she had pulled him to a sitting position, and wild as he was, he was shrewd enough to realise that this lass of his, champion hockey and champion was physically more than a match for him. From under sullen eyebrows he watched her. She had not turned a hair, and was cool and smiling still. “Now say you’re sorry,” she demanded, then on second thoughts, “no, I don’t insist on it, though I could make you. You must feel humiliated enough, and ashamed that you tried to strike a woman. Now listen to me. Dad, I’ve taken these extreme measures with you because, first, you tried to strike me, and I won’t submit to that, and again because you propose to dictate to me what I should or should not do. And listen again, if you get up and try to hit me I’ll tie you to the chair and caff the servants and mother. The point at issue—may I come back to it?—is that Jack Swaine and I intend to marry, arid in a month’s time, and we should like to know that you were agreeable.” I d just like to tell that young fellow what I thought of him.” “Now, Dad, do be reasonable! You’ve always been a good father to me, and I’m sure at the Bottom you don’t disapprove’ for you can’t blame Jack, no more than you can blame me, for the trouble between yourself and his father.” “I feel like screwing his neck.” Oh, well, if that’s—he’s here. Now you will have a chance of—showing what a decent father you are.” The youth who entered crossed the room with quick, determined step, took the girl by the. hand, and kissed her. Oh, a rotten time,” he said in answer to her quick inquiring glance. “As bad as we thought, but I will tell you all about it later.” He turned to the elder man, a slight flush on his face, the pulses beating in his neck, but with a poise of the head that suggested determination; “ I suppose you know why I’ve come, Mr Watson ? Betty and I have decided to marry.” . “ Aye, I’ve just been learning that.” “ Then I hope it will meet with your approval.” “What does ’Lije Swaine say to it?” grimly. There was a shadow over the youth’s face. “ Well, he doesn’t Tike it. Frankly, sir, he says that he will cut me off with a shilling.” “He does, does he? Thinks my daughter is not good enough for his son, eh? Well, so do I, the other way round. No brat of ’Lije Swaine’s shall wed a daughter of mine. So, young puppy, swallow that and get out before I make vou.” “ But, sir— —” Get out, I tell you,” rising to his feet.

“ Sit down, father.” At the commanding tone of the girl he sank back into his chair. “ Really, Mr Watson, you might listen to me. I’ve got a decent berth and plenty of prospects, and I’ve hopes bf making good. But Betty and I have agreed not to wait.” “ There’s nothing to wait for. You can’t have her.” “ Father, came the quiet voice of the girl. “Why will you misunderstand? This isn’t the Victorian age. We decide our own lives these days, and Jack and I have agreed to marry,' We don’t mind beginning in a small way.” “ Don’t see how you can begin at all,” he scoffed. “ You’ll get nothing from ’Lije Swaine, and less from me. How can you afford to keep a servant, never mind two or three.” “I can furnish a house, a small one, and I shall be earning enough to keep the two of us ’anyhow,” pleaded the youth. ■ “ Nice change after all this.” He waved his hand about the room. “ I remember the davs in Atholl street, dad.” It was an unpleasant reminder, for those days when he was earning a small livelihood and struggling upwards were as gall to Watson. “ Aye, but I moved out of that,” he snarled. “This young, fellow ” There was acid scepticism in the pause he made. Jack -flushed. “ I’ve got my chance; sir, and I’m going to make the best of it.” . •; ■ “ Um.” Scorn and scepticism in a monosyllable. “Well, I have just been learning I can’t interfere, but she’s no longer a lass of mine if she disobeys me. Not a cent now, or at any time, so don’t look for anything when I’m dead.” “ Dad, don’t,” with a quick cry, moved, for the first time. “ Aye, but I will,” misunderstanding her. “She makes her choice; this,” he wayed his hand about the room again, “ or ” bitingly “ that,” and he pointed to the youth. . “ The choice is made, dad. Jack and I start in a little home together. It will just be heaven, because I’ll make it so.” It was common gossip in the little town that the morning after the registry office wedding callers on Peter ’Watson fled from him in amazement and fear at once, whilst a prominent and world-wide firm, threatened to bring action against Elijah Swaine if ever again; he talked about throwing their representative out of his office. . The marriage was food for gossip but a few days, for the young couple had gone to live on the outskirts of the big city some miles away, and little was seen of them. There were rumours that the two mothers had tried to pay surreptitious visits, but long accepted governing from stubborn husbands had broken their wills, and the attempts, if ever they were made, were ndt repeated. And, meanwhile, the little home developed something of the humdruiri, everyday atmosphere that comes , when the. first flush of the honeymoon is over and busi-

ness and domestic routine sets ip. But not quite. There was this further bond between them, that they had to make good, one as a business man, the other as an untrained housewife. The individual difficulties, the periods of trial or distress and worry, were mutually shared. Ihe stiff backs of the forebears were theirs, and steadily and with serene gaze faced all. Little triumphs were shared; the fact, faced with some mg-s at first, that the triumphs were multiplying, urged them to further effort. The time came when Jack began to talk about . buying a motor cycle, but he couldn t quite reach a sidecar, and without his wife with him the joys of the road would lose their savour. The time came when Betty began to look well into the future. There was a singing in her heart, an added brightness" in her eyes. One day she caught the song clearly, and set it down; words and music seemed to flow from her. And when she tried, it over it seemed to her a lovely haunting thing, and she was for keeping it for herself. But other thoughts came, and one day, in great hopes and fears, she posted it off. After long and weary waiting she heard concerning it, and with an impatience foreign to her she awaited Jack’s return in the evening. He came, at last, almost boisterous and proud! “Biddy, my lass,” he cried, “We’ll have that sidecar and all complete, that is if it isn’t too late. They’ve made me manager.’’ She hurrahed with him. Then, “No, it isn’t too late, Jack, but I want to buv that sidecar.” “Oh, oh,” gleefully, “have I been giving you too much money?” “Nonsense. But just listen.” She moved over to the piano—it had been a struggle to buy the instrument, but Jack had insisted on it as a necessity for his wife—“you’re cooped up almost all day, my dear,” he had said, “and I insist”— and played and sang something-. “I say,” said Jack, swallowing something with difficulty, “that’s great.. No t that isn’t the word. It’s just—just Where did you pick it up?” “It’s mine, Jacky boy. My own. And I’ve got a cheque for it.” “It ours. Do you mean you wrote it, composed it?” She nodded, her eyes glistening. “I say,” half awed, “I’d no idea, lassie, you could do that sort of thing. Why, it makes a man feel —like a man.” ’ “I felt, oh, something like, like what the music and the words say, one day, when—when—because ” And she was in his arms. And when summer came round again it was decided that the little chap, as Jack called the newcomer, was just about big enough to travel with the elder folk, again to quote Jack, if he were well wrapped up, ..and it was a handsome and well-equipped machine and sidecar, that took them out on the road mariy times in that warm weather.- They were,times bursting with happiness. “I say,’’ said Jack, one day, “I’ve, the day off to-morrow, unexpectedly. ■ Let’s make a long run of it, to Hillbridge Castle, I want some photographs of it. Will the little chap stand it?” Betty nodded; she was a wise mother by this time. “I’ll fix him up all right, so that he won’t harm. Picnic outing, Jack.” “Of course.”

And so it came about that they slid up to the entrance gates of the castle, and for a while Jack left her whilst the little chap was dozing, and took the camera. Over by the ruined wall was a big limousine; over by the further wall a big saloon. Both were some yards away, and apparently empty, so. that their presence did not trouble Betty. It Was a warm day, so she flung back the screen, arid gave herself up to full joys of motherhood. She rocked him, she crooned to him, she let his little legs dance on her knees, addressed him in endearing terms. Little chap crooned back in sheer delight, and kicked those little legs of his lustily. Someone looked lazily through-. ■ the windows of the big limousine. Her attention was caught by the picture of the young mother and baby. In half careless, yet in interested fashion, for a baby ever attracts another woman, she watched the two for a moment, then: “Well, I never!! And she’s never told me.” A swift, uprising bulk burst through the door and made away across the grass. i < - ■ Meanwhile there was a movement in the other car. A woman looked through the windows, caught sight of the mother and child, and was quicker in recognition. “Well, 1 never,” she ejaculated. “And she’s never let me know, nor he either.” It seemed that neither woman was aware of the other. • Betty, dandling the child on her knee and singing to him: “Oh, when he’s a man , , He’ll have a big plan,” was suddenly aware of an invasion from either flank, and snatched the child hurriedly to her breast, out of reach of stretched arms. : ■ ’ “Betty!” came the cry from one side. “Betty!” was the call from the other. Then the chorus. “Oh, how old is he ?” (Trust a woman to know at first glance that it was a “lie.”) “Mother! Oh, Mrs Swaine!” And the two elderly women we're down on their knees, cooing and crooning and? trying to attract the child’s attention, joy in their worn faces, gladness in their hearts. The time for explanations and information seemed not yet. Then, breezily,, to hide emotion. “Oh, isn’t he a bonny child, Mrs Swaine? And he’s a Swaine, too, There’s a strong look of Mr Swaine about him.” Which was

I’etful, even if not designedly meant to be so.. It was an admission that the other gallantly tried to copy. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s a good deal of Peter Watson about him, anyhow.” “How old did you say, Betty, dear? ;; Three months? He’s a fine big lad. But, £ my dear, why didn’t you let us know ? t JEt was cruel of you.” f “So it was,” agreed Mrs Swaine, com•j placently. She had the child in her ? arms now. The other eyed it hungrily. Neither seemed to hear the explanations : given; perhaps as well, for there was ? some stiffness in Betty’s tone. “That silly quarrel,” burst out Mrs t. Swaine, suddenly. “Stupid, I call it. I J- shall give my man a piece of my mind!” “And me, too!” exclaimed Mrs Watson, heedless of grammar. “With a grand- ? child like this!” inconsequent!y. “Oh, •K*. there he is! And Mr Swaine, too, coming *from the'other side.” It was as if a tornado had .burst upon the astonished men. were called mean and wicked and hard-hearted and cowards and other unpleasant things, and before ’ they knew it had been led to worship at the shrine of the little chap. “Your grandson—and to think of it!” with inconsequential scorn. Thus Mrs Swaine.

Your grandson, Peter! Aren’t you ashamed?” Thus Mrs Watson, also with warmth and inconsequence, also after she had said much more about the stubborn, stupid mulishness of men in general, and her husband in particular. And the little chap, crowing with glee, thrust out groping hands, and somehow managed to clasp a finger of each grandfather. Peter coughed, and with the disengaged hand drew out a large handkerchief. Elijah swallowed hastily and appeared to find the sun troublesome to his eyes. The two elder women looked at each other and nodded. ‘‘Well!” they demanded together, each addressing her embarrassed property. “What are you going to do about it?” Betty had rescued the infant, and, not knowing what to do, rocked it in her arms, and began to sing softly. “Eh. that's pretty!” said Peter, who was choirmaster at the village chapel. “I never heard that before. Whose is it?” “Mine!” said Betty, smiling. “I made it up for baby, ready for when he came.” “Yours!” he gasped in astonishment. “See here, iass, when Jack returns tell him he starts as manager for me as soon as he can come.” “Manager!” cried Elijah; it sounded almost like a howl. “Manager be hanged! He’s coming into partnership with me. I have been hearing things about him.” “.So have I!” cried Peter. “He’s going to be my partner. I want one badly. I’m getting on in years.” "Well, you aren't the only one!” as-

serted Elijah. “I want a partner, too.” “Better amalgamate the businesses and give him charge!” said Betty, sweetly. “Well, I’m blest! Champion!” cried Elijah. “What do you say, Peter?” It was the first time for years he had addressed the other so. “Why,” said Peter, lying manfully, but believing all he said, “I’ve often thought about it.” And the two shook hands, the first time, for 20 years. But Jack, strolling back, and quickening his steps as he saw the small crowd about the sidecar, thinking that something had happened either to his wife or child, wrinkled his eyebrows. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m making my way in my own way, and I don’t know that I like all this thrust on me.” “Don’t be a fool!” came the anxious chorus of grandfathers. “We shouldn't ask you if we didn’t want you !” With which tribute to their own native stubbornness, they went on : “Now, lad, don’t be too hard !” “What does Betty think of it?” said Jack, turning to her. “It means leaving our little house and setting up in a bigger way, and”—with some shamefacedness such as can become a man —“I loved that little house. You said you’d make it heaven —and you did.” There was a mist in Betty’s eyes. Yes, she had loved that little house, too, but —“I wouldn’t have given it a second thought 12 months ago, Jack. You had to make good, and you wanted a clear chance. You've made good now, and, besides. there’s the little chap to think of.” Which seemed to settle the matter.