THE TRANSFORMATION OF MILES.
By
Thomas Cobb.
(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.) Carol Westerham wondered whether Miles would stop to speak. She had not seen him for three years, though he could easily have put himself in her way if he had wished. But obviously he had not wished, and that was her trouble! Just as she made up her mind that Tie would pass without recognising her, however, he came to a standstill. “ I hear you have turned your back on Bournebridge for good,” he said. “ Or for evil,” she returned. “Now what do you mean by that?” he asked with a laugh. “ Only that Nancy and I feel rather desolate in the crowd,” she explained. “Of course you have never seen my sister. She was away at school when you stayed with Mrs Casey, but after my father’s death nothing would satisfy her but a flat in-London.”
, Carol had finally taken the flat, high up in St. George’s Mansion, against her better judgment, the expenses leaving little margin for amusement or anything else. As it was they did almost everything for themselves, or to be precise, Carol did almost everything, whilst Nancy was contented to sit still and look beautiful.
Carol’s good looks were of a less conspicuous order. She was five years older, having recently passed her twenty-fifth birthday, and an inch or two shorter, with dark hair and a somewhat pale, oval face, animated enough after the encounter with Miles this afternoon. Nancy was fair. She had beauty of colour as well as of form, together with the most charming vivacity. “ What a time you have been! ” she exclaimed on her sister’s return. “ I have simply been bored to death.”
“ My dear, you should have come with me,” said Carol. “ Incidentally I could have introduced you to Miles Larking —Mrs Casey’s nephew, you know, though you will see him to-morrow, anyhow.” “Is lie coming here?” cried Nancy excitedly. “What is he like, Carol'? How old is he?”
“ Eight or nine and twenty,” was the answer. “ Tall and rather spare. A little more,” she added with a contented smile, “ and his hair might be called red. His people live in the west of England.”- >
Unfortunately Miles Larking was near the end of his tether although no one would have thought so to look at him. Having four unmarried daughters Mr Larking, sen., was unable to make him a very liberal allowance, whereas he had never done anything to augment it. He had, however, made the fatal discovery that, being an only son, he could borrow money without much difficulty at a price, which already more than once his father had been called upon to pay. The last time he had put his foot down. If ever he saw Miles’s name on a bill of exchange again he would stop supplies. As a matter of fact he stood a very fair chance of seeing it in a couple of months’ time, though the deplorable prospect did not prevent Miles from giving Nancy Westerham the time of her life.
Carol was devoted to her sister, but it was annoying to see him taken com plete possession of from the first time he 'came to -St. George’s Mansion, till after a round of plays, restaurant dinners, and dances he arrived one morning before Nancy was up. “ To tell the truth,” he said, lugubriously, when Carol opened the door and took hini to the tiny sitting room, “ I’ve come to say ‘ good-bye.’ I meant to tell Nancy a week or so ago, only 1 couldn’t face the music.” “ Where are you going? ” demanded Carol, trying to look as though the news had no particular interest for herself.
“I sail for Montreal, to-morrow,” he answered. “ Carol, I’ve been playing the unmitigated ass. Now, I’m fairly broken, and my allowance has been stopped ”
As he was speaking, Nancy entered looking deliciously fresh and fair, but hearing his announcement, as she stood holding his hand she could only stare into his solemn face in bewilderment. “ My dear,” he continued, when Carol mercifully left the room, “ I know I’ve been playing the giddy goat, but upon my soul, I turn over a new leaf to-day. Nancy, I want you to help me as no one else in this old world can. Give me—say, three years! If I don’t make good, I*ll never trouble you again, but if I can manage to keep my end up over on the other side, I shall be welcomed home like the prodigal returned. I’ll come back with a clear conscience or not at all. If I know you’re waiting for me, that will make’’all the difference. I want you to promise to marry me if I turn up to ask you, and if you won’t I may as well go to the dogs at once and have done with it.”
In the end she promised. She was too agitated, too sympathetic to think calmly or realise what she was letting herself in for, and Miles, after clasping her in his arms a few moments, went away without seeing Carol again. Although she thought that he had taken an unfair advantage of Nancy, she would not criticise him. He wrote on his arrival at Montreal, and every month during the next two years and a-half, Carol often wishing she could see into her sister’s mind.
He moved up country, obtained a grant of land, and he had not received a shilling from home. Carol, privileged to read his letters, came to the conclusion that he was changing since he left England, and so, for that matter, was Nancy. Although she must at first have missed the entertainments which he had provided, she never complained, but whether she looked forward to the future with satisfaction or dread was more than Carol could determine till slie met Dr Arthur Shackell at,, the house which Mrs Casey had taken in London for the season. A tall, broadly-built, darkhaired, handsome man, he was extremely keen about the research work in which he was engaged at the Simpson Institute, and it seemed strange that Nancy’s experience with Miles should have caused her to -develop in a way which made her interesting to Arthur, an entirely different type of man. Yet Carol felt certain that if he had been introduced to her sister two years and a-half earlier, before she met Miles, Dr Shackell would have found hqr far too self-centred, too flighty and irresponsible. Now Carol began to watch the development of what might prove an awkward situation. In less than six months Miles might be expected, whereas Arthur’s wooing became more and more intensive. “ You see, dearest,” she could not resist saying “ it’s not as if you wore an engagement ring or anybody could give Dr Shackell a hint about Miles. Yet the fact remains that he writes every month, that he is counting the days till he sees you, and when Dr Shackell asks you to marry him, as he is certain to do before long, what in the world shall you say ? ” The effect of this remonstrance was to remove all doubt about what Nancy would dearly like to say! Flinging her arms round Carol’s neck, she tacitly admitted the actual state of affairs, and things seemed more eontrarious than ever. The one woman was living in dread of Miles’s return, while heaven only knew how ardently the other longed to see his face again.
Then, one afternoon, when Arthur knew that Carol would be absent, he came to the flat and, i:i his downright, straightforward way, asked Nancy to be hjs wife, whereupon, to his consternation, she quite broke down. Kneeling by her chair, he put his arm around her, and with her head resting on his shoulder, she sobbed out her story. “But,” he insisted, “you don’t love the man. You can’t love him.”
“ I never did,” she answered. “ Only I felt. so deadly dull, he gave me a splendid time, I liked him very much, and I—l was afraid he would go to the bad altogether unless J gave him something to —to hope for.” “ Your course is perfectly clear, anyhow,” cried Arthur, and she only wished it were. “You must write by the next mail and say you can never marry him.” ‘ How could I? ” she urged. “He has had a terribly uphill fight. Every month he vows he should never have stood a chance but for me. He will be home before long to—to claim me, as he puts it. If I were to throw him over I should never have another moment’s happiness as long as I live.” On Carol s return Arthur entered upon a full and frank discussion, and at least she convinced him of the uselessness of counting upon any change in Miles. His letters proved his steadfastness. Moreover, a rebuff at this eleventh hour might undo the good which there colTh! be no doubt that Nancy’s influence had done. Arthur would have taken a strong line. He wanted to marry Nancy at once and risk everything, and it seemed incongruous enough that Carol should feel bound to insist that her sister should keep her promise to the absent man. Her suggestion that Arthur and Nancy should not meet, however, was ridiculed by them both, and he came to the flat as often as ever, till a letter from Canada announced the approach of the crisis. Miles’s eldest sister, only a year older than himself, was anxious about her father’s health. She entreated Miles to return, promising that the fatted calf should be killed. By the time Nancy received his letter lie would be on the Atlantic, looking forward to taking her in his arms again. But, notwithstanding his impatience, he felt bound to go direct fiom the docks to Bath, whence he could write at the earliest possible moment to say when she might rxpect to see him at St. George’s Mansion. Meanwhile, he was counting the hours. It was one Thursday evening when Arthur was at the flat, that, hearing the bell, Carol went to the door, and 1 etumed with a letter in her hand. biom Bath! ” she said ominously. Open it, Carol,” answered Nancy, every particle of colour fading from her face, and her sister broke the seal. „ w? L . arkin ff is better,” she read aloud. Miles is coming up by an early train to-morrow morning. He will be here at 11.”
She thought it kinder to leave the two alone together to discuss the impending situation, but after Arthur’s departure the expression in Nancy’s blue eyes brought tears to her own. “I know I’m the most dreadful coward,” said Nancy, when Carol went to her room before she was up on Thursday morning, “but I don’t feel I can possibly face Miles to-day. You must see him. You can say I’m not well, anything to gain time. I shan't get up.” After an urgent expostulation. Carol, as usual, gave way, so that when the bell rang just before 11 it was she who opened the door. She held out her hand, and while Miles hung up his hat in the 'dim hall said how pleased she was to hear Mr Larking had improved. “ You haven’t altered a scrap, Carol,” he cried, when he had followed her to the sitting room, but in the stronger light she saw that he had changed—considerably for the better. His face looked firmer, his eyes clearer, he was in magnificent condition. He had scorned delights and lived laborious days; he seemed to have a new air of determination. “ Well,” he demanded, “ where’s Nancy? ” “ I’m afraid she’s not very well “Good heavens!” he interrupted anxiously, “ you don’t mean she’s seriously ill.” “ No, not seriously,” said Carol.
“ What’s the matter with her then ? ” “ Oh, well, she has the most dreadful headache this morning,” murmured Carol, realising the feebleness of the excuse.
“ You’re surely not going to tell me,” Miles insisted, “ that a headache is to be allowed to prevent her from seeing me after all these years! ” “ I was to ask you to excuse her to-day: ”
“ Upon my soul,” lie retorted, “ it looks as though she didn’t want to see me.” Carol scarcely knew what to say, since she must not tell the truth. After a short, but extremely embarrassing pause, Miles added excitedly, “ Surely she can’t be afraid to meet me.” “Why—why should she.be, Miles?” “ Heaven knows! But one thing’s certain. You’re keeping something back, and you don’t do it well. You’re naturally too straightforward. I want you to treat me honestly, Carol! You may as well get it off your chest. Is there anybody else ? ” It had been no part of her mission to enlighten him. Nancy, in fact, was afraid of the consequences. But her sister remembered their last meeting, and though on that occasion she had experienced no overwhelming objection •when he took her in his arms, such an ordeal would be repulsive to-day. There was, however, something about Miles Larking this morning—the new Miles and yet the z man Carol had loved
for years—something that seemed to make anything of the nature of subterfuge common and mean. She could not tell him a deliberate lie.
“ Tell me frankly,” he persisted. “Is there anybody else ? ” “ I’m afraid there is,” Carol admitted, and sitting down, he leaned forward, pressing his brown hands against his face, but only for a'moment; then he rose again, urging her to tell him what there remained to be told, and while he stood with his rough, brown jacket unbuttoned, his hands in his trouser’s pockets, she made a clean breast. “I’ve thought of Nancy,” he said when Carol ceased speaking, “ every day since I parted from her in this room nearly three years ago. I’ve had some rough times, but at the worst I tried to look forward to—not to this,” he added bitterly. “ And now she sends you to tell me what she was ashamed to let me hear from her own lips.” “ No,” cried Carol, “ that is not true. I was simply to say she did not feel able to see you this morning. She has no idea that I am giving her away.” “ Anyhow,” he exclaimed, “ she has made up her mind to chuck me. But whatever happens I’ve something to say
“ Miles,” said Carol, “ I can’t have made you understand. Nancy would never be happy herself knowing she had made you miserable.” “ She has done that pretty effectually.”
“ You were wrong to make her promise,” Carol continued. “ You gave her a good time, but she never loved you. She does love Arthur Shackell, and yet she has hesitated about throwing you over. She is between the devil and the deep sea.” “ And I am the devil! ” cried Miles. “ Well, I shall come again at 4 this afternoon,” he said, buttoning his jacket. “ I shall expect to see her then, and you say she doesn’t know you are giving away the show. I don’t want her to know. Carol, I think there’s a good deal owing to me. I ask you, as a favour, not to let Nancy know you have put me wise.” Not without reluctance she consented to let him have his way. He had, indeed, it seemed, become a man who was hard to oppose. Finding that Nancy had just finished dressing Carol, without a word of her • confession, simply explained that Miles would return at 4 o’clock, when he would insist on being seen. It was Arthur Shackell, arriving directly after luncheon, who inquired whether Larking was as keen as ever,] and now the suspense grew wellnigh unendurable to Carol, as well as to the others.
What would Miles say to Nancy? Would lie insist upon his pound of flesh? How would she act in that event —and Arthur? He was not the man to stand by and lose the woman he loved without an effort. He went away at half-past 3 after urging Nancy to face the music, but a quarter of an hour later she clung to Carol, entreating her to be present during the approaching ordeal—anything rather than she should be left alone with Miles.
Nancy was painfully nervous. She watched him apprehensively when Carol brought him to the sitting room, and held out her hand as though her chief purpose were to keep him as 'far away as possible. But he did not seem to see it.
“ I have a thankless task to get through,” he astonished Carol by saying. “My chief anxiety is to have done with it. Nancy, I had no right to ask for your promise.” She leaned eagerly, expectantly forward, with a startled expression on het face which changed again as he continued : “I was not myself that morning. Still, I meant to do my part. I meant to come to claim you till the first day of my voyage home.” Nancy raised her hand to her forehead, staring wildly into his face. She could scarcely believe her ears. She was afraid to hope what she might hear next. “ I am agoing to skip the details,” he said. “ Perhaps you can exercise your imagination. I had never accused myself of fickleness, but you know the proverb about idle hands. I admit I’m ashamed of myself, Nancy; I am going to back out.” “To—to back out!"” she murmured. “ I can’t see my way to marry you ” “ Oh, thank God! ” she cried so fervently that )ie scowled for a moment, then with a shrug turned towards the following to the hall. “ Miles,” she whispered, “ you are extraordinarily magnanimous.” “Ah, well,” he answered, taking his hat from-the peg, “ now I feel like painting the town red.” “You won’t,” said Carol, as he opened the outer door, his back being towards her. “ You have got beyond that.” He turned, suddenly facing her. “ What the dickens do you know about it ? ” he demanded. “ I can tell,” she returned, and he stood for a second looking into her face, then held out his hand. There was rejoicing at the flat that evening, though Carol could easily have proved a wet blanket. . She, for her part, had little cause for gladness. It seemed, in the circumstances, very unlikely that Miles would ever cross her path again. He came, however, one afternoon a month later, two days after the announcement that a marriage had been arranged and would shortly take place
I thought, perhaps, I might be permitted to offer my congratulations,” he said apologetically. “Nancy is away,” answered Carol, staying with Arthur Shackeli’s people at Bournemouth.”
then you are on your lonesome,” cried Miles. “ And I’m in the same boat. Don t you think we might take pity on each other ? ”
She was easily persuaded to let him take her out to dine that evening "and the next, though she did not see him again till six -weeks later, a few days after Nancy’s wedding. Then, surprisingly, he arrived with a tall, pleasant-looking auburn-haired woman, whom he introduced as his sister. He inquired where the honeymoon was being spent, and whether Carol intended to keep on the flat. ‘ 1
The one thing I have determined as yet,” she answered, “is to get it off my hands as soon as possible. But what to do afterwards is more than I know.” “ You will soon be going out of town,” suggested Miss Larking. “I fancy,” said Carol with a laugh, “ I shall be driven to advertise in the agony column for a companion.” It was then that she had the greatest surprise of her life.
“ I wonder,” suggested Miss Larking, “ whether I could persuade you to come to us at Bath for a few weeks.” Carol turned instinctively to'Miles, who promptly rose and came to her side. “ If you could manage to be ready by the day after to-morrow,” he said, “I could run you both down in the car.” A joyful revolution had occurred, though often as she speculated durin" her first fortnight at Bath, Carol could never quite understand how it had been brought about. Miles, however, did his best to enlighten her.
“It was perfectly true,” he said, in the arbour at the end of the rose garden, “ that you gave me a knock-down blow that morning at your flat; perfectly true, also, that for nearly three years I had never thought of any other woman but Nancy ”
Not even on the boat! ” murmured Carol.
“ I feel sorry enough for myself after that self-denying ordinance,” he continued, but it seemed an odd thing, that whenever I looked back, it was always your dear little sympathetic face I saw. Though you may find it a bit hard to believe,” he insisted, “I turned up again at your flat, not so much to congratulate Nancy, as—well, in the Lope that some day I might be able to congratulate myself.” Carol hesitated for a moment. And-—and me,” she whispered, whereupon Miles seized her hands.
“ You really mean that, Carol ? ” he said.
She silently nodded. She was afraid to trust herself to speak. It had been a long waiting.
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Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 3878, 10 July 1928, Page 81
Word Count
3,517THE TRANSFORMATION OF MILES. Otago Witness, Issue 3878, 10 July 1928, Page 81
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