Taken Unawares

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 881, 6 December 1916, Page 2

Taken Unawares

[All Rights Reserved]

CHARTER Xll.—(Continued.) When the housekeeper's face met her eyes she was a little taken aback. "Oh, Mrs Steer," she stammered, " I've had an adventure—l 'vc been lost. Is Mr Hindoo in?'' "Yes, ma am; just come. He's with Miss Dales."' "Oh, then, I want him. I've—l went, out without any money, and—and I got frightened. 1 found myself in a Btrange place, and so I got a cab, and I've no money to pay him. I'll go and get some." She ran off, and Mrs Steer's eyes followed her disapprovingly. The old •woman, who had known and loved Humphrey from a lad, had at first shaken her head over his choice of a wife. "Bad'll come of it," was her remark. "She'll be no good to him, a frivolous bit o' goods. It'll be disaster-disaster ugly as t'other may be." She stepped out now on the pavement and up to the chauffeur who had got up from his seat, and was rubbing his hands and stamping his leet lie evenings were beginning to get cold, and the mist that was creeping sadly over the street was chill. . Mrs Steer nodded to him in a Iriend-

]y way. „., , , i "Come some distance?" she asked. "Kensington," he answered shortly. <'My! Then she got far enough out of her way. Where did you take her P " Kensington College Flats. Nice Pa ««bh very!" But it was odd that Terry 'should have got there. And why "did the man mention "flats and not street? . She looked with shrewd eyes at him. "She won't be a minute," she remarked, "a nice fright she's had I expect her not being used to London ami London streets. You see, she s from the country and don't know her way about. Did a policeman call you up for her?" "A policeman? No. She beckoned me herself as she came out " The man clapped his gloved hands to-

get her. "Came out? Why, wherever did she come out from?" Mrs Steer asked. "Didn't I say the flats?" the man began, and stopped, checked by Terry herself standing on the doorstep. She stumbled down and handed him

some silver. "That's all right," she said. Then she looked coldly at Mrs Steer, with a sense almost of dismay as she met her hard, suspicious eyes. "Fancy your getting all the way to Kensington, ma'am! You must have had a shock —so strange it must have been to you. But I suppose you got looking at the shops? Kensington High Street's nice part." "Yes—yes," gasped Terry hastily. "Very nice."

"And however did you manage to get all that way." Mrs Steer'svoi.eesounded as if she was speaking to a child. "You never walked, ma'am."

"Yes —yes, I did," cried Terry, and went on rapidly to check any further questions; "such a way. I went on, and on, and oh, I'm awfully tired. I walked miles on end, and I—l'm simply dead." She looked it, too, as she turned away from Mrs Steer's incredulous stare, aud her mouth took on a peculiar stiffness which Sarah Mayling would have, recognised well enough, as she ran back into the house. Her little hands were clenched. "I'll get rid of that woman," she said to herself. Humphrey met her in the hall. "You little goose," he said, "to get into such a scrape. What should I have done if you had really got lost?" She was only a baby after all, he thought—a child in mind and spirit. Thank God old Sir Anthony had been mistaken. Theic need be no fear for her.

"But fancy your walking all the way to Kensington," he said, helping her off with her coat. "Why, Terry, it must have taken you all day." She wrenched her arm out of the sleeve.

"Oh, don't bother me about it," she said irritably. "I'm too tired to think 6f it. Oh, for goodness sake, don't say another word about it." "All right, child. Gso and get dressed. You'll feel more rested after dinner." She was. Mrs Steer, handing the dishes to the housemaid outside the din-ing-room door, heard her laugh ring out us gaily and as fresh as ever. "The little minx!" she said to herself, and then sighed heavily. "No good'll come of it—no —no good, but perhaps something bad for poof Mr Humphrey." CHAPTER XIII. It was the beginning of the end. The next day Terry managed to slip out in spite of Mrs Steer's i.spicious eyes, and, hailing a cab round the corner, drove off to Mrs Caley's flat. She came back a little pale and certainly angry. She had lost another five pounds? And Mrs Caley had been quite unpleasant. "Surely five pounds doesn't worry you?" she had said. "Why, you must be rolling in money. Doesn't Mr Ilindon make you an allowance?" Terry had shaken her head before she knew it. "How atrociously mean! He ought to —and a good allowance, too. I should make him if I were vou. lie's so awfully rich." "Oh, T can get an allowance easily enough if I wish to," Terry said, "and 1 dare say I will. [ 'll think about it." _ There was a smile on Mrs Stevenish's lips, ami her eyes met Agnes Caley's with a meaning look. Almost imperceptibly she shrugged her shoulders, and then, sharply, her glance went to Terry again. The door had opened and a man entered. At first Terry scarcely glanced up from the (able at which she sat, but at the sound of a woman's voice and a man's in reply, she lifted her head with a gasp for breath. "I'Vnli! Well! This is a surprise! Ts it really you! We haven't seen you for age".'' Terry sat glued to her seat, her face a little white, and her eyes fixed in startled surprise upon the face of the man who was shaking hands with Mrs Calev's guests. He looked just the same handsome wellgroomed smartly dressed man; and a,

By ANNIE O. TIBBITS IHBBj Author of 111111 " The Threads of Destiny," " Life's Revenge," etc

queer little throb shook Terry's hear for just a moment as lie came toward her.'

"You!" There was meaning in his Jook, in his ovd, and in the tone of his voice, and ': Try (lushed.

He was holding her hand, and he had an air of whispering something that was for her ears alone. Yet he spoke loud enough for all in the room to hear.

"I scarcely hoped to see you again. I thought Hindoo would never let you out. He's a strict old bear, isn't he? Ah, Terry! it was a cruel mistake! If only you had not been in such a burn-. If only you had waited for me to come back.''' "

She caught her breath for an instant and then gave a queer little laugh.

"You should have behaved differently," she said recklessly. "I—l took the first man who came along, of course. All.women do, don't they? Men always say so, don't they?" Her eyes were sparkling and bright. She was laughing defiantly and recovering her self-possession and her spirits. After all—what was five pounds- And Ferdi's open admiration and his apparent grief, and the thought that after all ho had wanted to marry her, raised her spirits as nothing else could. Flattery was the breath of life to her; and at this moment it suited Ferdinand to play with her; and Terry was only too eager to test her power upon him. "I'm going home now," she said. Don't stay here with these women. Come part of the way with me." "Only part of the way?" he echoed. "I'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you'd let me." "Well, you can come as far ns Vie toria," she said lightly, and then turned to say good-bye. But her depression came back wdien Ferdinand left her, and somehow the live pounds assumed bigger proportions, and the thought of Humphrey, who scarcely seemed to spend any money at all, grew more and more alarming as she neared the house. "Strict in some things." Terry knew that he was, and wondered if he could be hard, too, and what he would say if he knew what she had been doing that afternoon?

She shivered a littla in her furs as she got out. of the cab and paid the man; and the feeling of cold clung still, later on, when she sat in her place at the head of the dinner table and looked at Humphrey across it. Of course, he ought to give her an allowance, but how dared she ask for it? How could she? She had long ago learnt that her father had died in debt, and that if it had not been for Humphrey she would have been plunged into hopeless poverty. Now she looked across the table with her heart in her mouth trying to get up courage for rinding an opportunity for speaking with him.

It came almost immediately. He was going to spend an hour in the library. There was a brief he wanted to master if Terry did not mind? ■ She rose, and as Mimmie left the room, hung behind. "I want to speak to yon, Hum," she said, "I want to talk business." "Business! " He looked down into her face smilingly, and with a great longing upon him to hear her say .she loved him, and—and to know she did.. "Business! This sounds serious. What is it? Hats? Clothes? Sweets?"

"Nq, Humphrey, it's only this: Don't you think you ough to make me an allowance? Don't you think you ought to give me a —a monthly cheque or something?" He stared a little. She had surprised him. The request seemed so unlike Terry, and so different to all he thought of her. Money was the last thing he associated with her. She scarcely knew what money meant. But, perhaps, she was growing up —perhaps it was only part of the change he wanted to see. He drew her gravely into his own room.

"What makes you want an allowance?" he asked. "I hadn't thought about it, but now—well, yes, when I think about it, you ought certainly to have one. But you have never been used to money, Terry. AVhat are you going to do with it?" A Hush sprang to Terry's cheeks. Her eyes brightened and sparkled. Oh, how stupid she had been to feel nervous or afraid of him! He was as easy to manage as she had said he would be. She had only to ask.

"Oh, there are lots of things, Hum," she said, "and the shops are so tempting. And besides, I—l want to be—to do the thkigs I ought." Tic put out his hand suddenly to her. Ah, how utterly mistaken old" Sir Anthony had been.in his daughter. She was only a simple girl after all, an hon-est-hearted little thing—trying to please him! And at tha* moment Terry felt pride rather than shame at the easy way tin which she could deceive him—a clever lawyer like Humphrey. "You shall do as you like," he said. "I'll make you out a cheque at once. What shall I give you? Let's say £25 to begin with, and then you can see how you go on. I expect you won't know what to do with it, eh, girlie?" Twenty-five pounds? Terry caught her breath. It was a fortune! But it. was a. fortune that vanished in the course of an afternoon. She sat, two days later, pale and angry, watching Mrs'Ca'ey languidly gathering up the gold coins and dropping them by twos and threes into a gold chain purse. "Well, you arc unlucky! It is really a shame. I'm afraid you won't come again. I am so sorry." "J don't suppose Humphrey will let you come again. now," Mrs Stevenish put in with emphasis which roused Terry's obstinacy. '' After this T'm sure he wont." Terry turned sharply. " Why not?" she cried. "He will if I want to. He lets me do anything I like, and I—l love playing. Of course, I can come if I like." A'i smiled, a tantalising smile. "Well, wait and see," she remarked. '' You 've lost such a lot, you know. " (To bo continued.)