THE PAINTED VEIL.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume V, Issue 1309, 24 April 1918, Page 10

THE PAINTED VEIL.

IBy SYBIL CAMPBELL LETHBRIDGE. Author of "Middle Life." "The Shoreless Sea," "Love and My Lsdy," etc.] [All Rights Reacrved.] "Lift not the pointed veil which men call fi,e."-Shclley. CHAPTER Vlll.—(Continued). THE MYSTERY OK STEPHEN DAGWAY. She turned away as sho spoke; thej action was instinctive, lest her expression should betray the almost agonise.lj relief that sh« had felt, when, on recovering from her swoon, she had asked for the newspaper, had read in it that item of news. ! Tier father stared nt her resentfully, 1 he was beginning to emerge from that; confused vet highly excited state of: mind that' had refused him rest, when he had lain on his bed courting it in vain. He was beginning to see things more clearly, and ho knew that to get further explanations from his daughter as to her extraordinary line of conduct would be impossible. Laline was as determined —mulish, he called it, in exasperation —as he himself had been in those days before self-indulgence and sloth had drained him of strength and of vitality. |

"You can stay here until you've got *■ some work," he observed grudgingly. "Your brother will pay for your board, and the woman of the house is a good creature; she'll not ask much. By the way, Arthur's away just now. Mr Sartor's sent, him yachting, because he thought he wanted' a change. Lucky chap he is, to have an employer who makes such a favourite of him. One of these days I shouldn't be surprised if he were a partner.'' Laline made uo answer. Her brother, manager i<> the old-established bank of which" Eldred Salter was head, ha 1 never been very much to her. Many years older than she, and of a temperament utterly dissimilar, they had nothing in common. Two or three times, when the Arehcourts had been in t.owu.j Betty had invited Arthur Dagway to; dine' with them, and he had accepted,: showing himself pleased by the atten-j tion. He was handsome in a severe and impassive style, but beneath that digni-j fled exterior Laline felt, that there was, little heart or feeling. Only for one thing did she respect and admire him, 1 and that was for his scrupulous sense of honour and justice. All the more extraordiuary did these traits seem to poor Laline, accustomed to their utterj absence in the father, whom Arthur, not overwilltngly, supported. "To-morrow," continued Mr Dagway, as he moved towards the door, "you must, start your search for work, Laline. You can't be idle, you know; it isn't good for anyone, idleness. Mr Sarter, who's always been kind enough to be interested in you, may help to flud you a post as typist or secretary, something of that sort." Laline reddened angrily. "I don't want to bother Mr Sorter," she said, "and, as to his being kind to me, I fancy he's hardly aware of my existence; he hasn't seen me more than once or twice at the Arehcourts." Yet, even us she spoke, Laline recalled the impassive, heavy-featured face, in which the long, pale eyes, curiously denuded of lashes, seemed out of placo, they were so startliugly keen and alivo. Eld red Sarter had made an impression on her, as he did upon the majority. He suggested a cold and aloof reserve of strength, that set him apart k and above his fellows. "He is the only person I know who ™ has influence and who could help me," retorted Mr Dagway sharply. "I expect the time will conic when you will be only too glad to ask for his help, that is, if he'll condescend to give it. You don't know what it means to look for work." But Laline, whose years in the luxurious atmosphere of the Archcourt household had taught, her nothing of the grim realities of real life, was not alarmed. Her father, she knew, was oue of those born idlers who will exert themselves only to avoid work: she, on her part, was only too eager to enter the noble army of toilers; she did not realise that those ranks are difficult of access to the ignorant though ardent outsider.

That night, in spite of the uneven anil jt unyielding substance with which the'. mattress of her bed appeared to ne' stuffed, Lalino Dagway slept well and drcamlessly. She awoke with a feeling! of relief, that passed, however, intoj anxiety, a.s with her waking moments thought was born, and here descended upou her a recollection of what had been of the past, and of the future that, ■would be born out of it. ] Horrible, soul-shaking memories haunted her, but in Laline there was a certain elasticity, a power of throwing' off that which it was useless to hold, that was meant to carry her through troublous times, to give her streugtn, when weakness would be perilous. As she dressed, missing, it must be confessed, all the luxuries to which Droma Castle had accustomed her, she resolved that what had happened should be placed behind her, should be forgotten,| should not influence her life. The old' existence, with its joyous, careless happiness, was gone for ever. To lament it would never bring it back; regrets for it would but weaken her in the struggle that she knew lay before her. It must I 'be put aside, forgotten, and —c.hiefj item of all—Gerard Burford's image] must npt be allowed to have any placs in her thoughts. Laline's charming little face whitened as she made this resolution, whilst brushing her cloud of dark hair; Gerard —and those brief, rapturous moments inl the pine woods, when he had told her that he loved her, all must be forgotten. He despised her now, regarding her a.-, beyond all words deceitful and unashamed, ami, reflected poor Laline rtrefully, small wonder that he should. She understood that he scorned her, and she meekly accepted his contempt as part of her punishment, but that Betty Archcourt should have turned against hor seemed cruel and unjust. Betty had refused to listen to the confused, but piteous, half-explanation that was all that Laline had had to offer. But, as she dressed, and then went downstairs to the dining-room, where a dirty cup and plate upon the dirty white cloth showed that already someone had breakfasted, Laline resolved that henceforth she would not allow (he past to haunt, her. to overshadow that . which might lie before her. Life that, poor child, she had a dim suspicion might prove hard and cruel, had to be faced, and for that, courage to the point of defiance was requirod. Already Laline found it necessary, as her spirit quailed at the sight of the untidy room, tho unappetising table, to remind herself that externals were nothing, that all that mattered was the spirit in which one accepted them. Beauty and luxury had become a matter of course to Laline; now she realised she would have to do without them. Vet, hungry as she was, the sight of the smeared egg-cups, the remains of congealing bacon on a plate, almost deprived her of appetite. But, by an effort, she conquered that sensatiou, and rang the boll.

Constance appearing after a long interval, Laline asked for breakfast, anil was agreeably surprised bv its being brought with promptitude. It was not of attractive quality, the egg was dubious, the (oast a matter of brown ami white patches, but Laline forced herself to eat, and, with each mouthful, poor though the food was, she found her strength returning; she wished that Constance did not think it necessary to remain in tho room, and to watch her while she ate, but Laline did not realise that to the maid she was of thrilling interest, as heroine of a tragedy of a mysterious murder in which she, Laline, hail played the principal part. Also, there was something that Constance wished to tell Miss Dagway, and she was a little doubtful, as to how to put it. It was, even Constance, blunt and fearless of speech by nature, recognised, a difficult thing to say; yet she felt that it ought to bo said to Laline, and without delay. Only, she waited for an opportunity, and at. last it came to her. "Are you wondering' when Mr Dagway's coniin'?" she inquired, as Laline looked at the door. "Oh, you won't see him yet, I enn tell you." "Jle gets up late, I supposo," answered Laline stiffly. She was shocked at, the easy familiarity of Constance's manner. The servants in Belgrave .Square and at Droma Castle seemed as far removed from Constance as was she —Laline herself. Please don't wait. When my father conies down, I will ring." (To be continued.)