OUR SERIAL STORY

Taranaki Daily News, 7 February 1928, Page 10

OUR SERIAL STORY

"LOVE’S STOWAWAY"

By

JOHN L. CARTER

Rights Reserved

‘’You understand me.” he growled. I’ve set my heart on this marriage, and I’ll see it through, or you leave my roof for ever.*’ ‘•That won’t alter me,” she cried proudly. ‘ I shall earn my own living. Nothing shall make me marry, a man°l can t love. And I couldn’t possibly love a man who is go nitifully mean as to arrange to marry a girl just for the mone” he can make out of it! One could onlv despise such a man! ” John D. Briant peered shrewdly into her great fearless eyes. ‘’lf you reallv mean it,” he growled, furious, frustrated, “the sooner vou clear out the better. You may be my adopted ‘daughter, but I’ve no use for a fool. The least you oul ’ do to repay me for all I’ve done would be to fall in’with my wishes. And I’m not bluffing, mind!” “When she wag dying, my mother wrote and asked you to look after me,” Molly reminded him. “And you’ve certainly very kidly paid for my school at Cheltenham, and brought me up as your own daughter. But mother would never have wished me to act in opposition to my own conscience.” “That’s it Talk Heroics!” he roared. “You refuse to marry Lord Belden, who is handsome, agreeable, and aristocratic: yet, as like as not. you'll go and th >w yourself into the arms of some common little store clerk before a year is out. You’re a fool. This wonderful love you dream about—it’s all forgotten after the first month or two of married life! You mark nv r words’. A’ou’re dropping the substance to snatch at the shadow.” Mollv shrugged her shoulders. “I will not marry for anything but love—on both sides,” she said, quietly, “That would be wrong-” “Such twaddle!” protested Briant. “And to think that I’ve had you educated regardless of expense so that you would be fit io leave all my money to—and you turn on me like this! I want you to think it over.” “But I don’t want your money/’ said Molly evenly.

“If you don't fall in with my plans, you leave this ..ouse a pauper.” Molly did not renly immediately. She was thinking things over. It amazed her to find her uncle, her only relative, so hard-hearted, so reckless of anything but the achievement of his ambitions. Then she asked herself if it was possible for her to earn her own living. She did not know. She had been well-educated, certainly, but, as is usually the case with an expensive education, it had not been a practical one. But she was certainly not afraid to try. “You get all my money, or none,” he conditioned. “Let it be none, then!” she flashed proudly. Briant was taken aback for a moment, but lie quickly recovered his ruthless manner. “As you wish!” he said grimly. He never doubted that she would soon change her tune. “When do you think of going? To-morrow?” “No—to-day,” she cried proudly. “Give me an hour to pack my things.” But then she remembered that all her belongings were really his. His money had bought them. “No, I shall not stay to pack. Igo just as I am!” This show of independence might have aroused admiration in some men, but Briant only scowled more blackly. He was not a man to stand opposition in dependants, and he resented the scorn with which she had treated his bullying policy. He had never been able to understand folk who put ideals before money. “If you go, mind, you go for good,” he snarled. “There’s no slinking back to Uncle Briant!” “You need have no fear,” she said. “I shall not come back.” The assurance in her voice offended him still more. It alarmed him too. “How can you help coming back?” he sneered impatiently. “You’ve no chance of getting work.” “I shall not come back,’’ she repeated firmly. “I couldn’t live with you any more.” For the first time Briant began to feel responsil iU^ r . After all, lie had adopted the girl. What would the newspapers sav if they got hold of this story? He pulled out a roll of dollar notes. “Here, take these—l won’t have you sav I turned you out penniless,” he growled. “Thanks, but I’d rather not,” said Molly firmly. “I’m only sorry you’ve spent so much on me.” “Very well,” he said, nonplussed. “As fc • you keep—rwell, that was a speculation. 1 hoped vou would turn out a girl to d me credit. I was mistaken —that’s all!” Molly’s lip curled. He had felt no shame in confessing that he had not helped her from anv sense of love or duty, but merely as a speculation—in the hope that she would one day marry a title. “Oh, vou’ll come cringing and crawling back —before the day is out,” he " ng at her. “But I’ll not have you in unless you are pre "’od to obev.” Tears threat ned to rush into Molly’s eyes. He was the only relation she had in all the wcrld, and he frankly told her he wished never to meet her or hear from her again! “You may trust me,” she said bitterly. “I’ll not come back.” He moved to the door and held it open for her to pass through. He was, boiling with fury. Opposition had al wavs driven h :, n mad. “Good bve.” she said coldly. And

hurrying up to her room she began to put on her hat and jacket. She was cooling down now. It was no trivia] adventure upon which she had set out —for a girl who had never known the meaning of work to turn out to get her own living. x.ad she been foolish? Some might think so, but she knew she could not. have done otherwise. Five minutes later she was walking along the thronged side-walk distressingly conscious of having left her only home behind her. It was difficult to realise that she was the same girl who yesterday had walked down this very Fifth Avenue side-walk to Madison Square. Yesterday she had been sole heiress to all her uncle’s welath; to-day she was leaving Fifth Avenue for ever. The Square -as ablaze with the fresh green of spring, and Molly sat down on the stone bench below the Farragut Memorial. This was to be the parting of the ways.

She smiled to think how quickly site had grown used to all the wealth, and disnlay and extravagance. The Waldorf, Madison Square Garden, and the other famous places of entertainment had quickly become matters of course in her life.

And now? Well she was looking round upon all this wealth and glitter that- was no longer part of her life. But. now, it ..as hard to believe that she had ever entered the imposing building which looked so magnificent a mass of masonry just over there. She told herself that she must leave all this behind and go to the grim districts beyond Washington Square. Instead of living in a mansion she would have to be content with a room-—or perhaps with sharing oiie. And, even before that, she must get paid work. Suddenly it occurred to her to look in her purse—already she was wishing that she had swallowed her pride and taken the money her uncle had offered. She found that she had only one dollar bill and two nickels. Barely enough for a square meal, and certainly not enough to pay even one night’s hotel bill. And as she felt that she. was really quite hungry, and as a dollar and two nickels were almost as bad as nothing, she instantly arose and set out towards Washington Square, where the eating houses were more in accord with her limited means.

On her way she bought some, newspapers, and she studied the advertisements closely while she ate her lunch. But everybody seemed to want employees of experience! Moreover, how was she to find her way to the addresses advertised? That would cost money. In New York, as elsewhere, one had to pay to ride by troll.-car. She soon began almost to despair. Even supposing she were to get a post, she would receive no money for a week at least. And it was necessary that she should have money immediately. Perhaps she might be fortunate enough to get work at once, and might be able to summon up courage to ask for part of her salary in advance. But that was not probable. Besides, what sort of work could she—an ignoramus as regards business —expect to get ? There was one advertisement, however, which made her hope mildly. -It was for a young lady as “Information Clerk, able" to speak, French, German and English; must be up in the work.” The address wrs Angel's Travel Bureau, Christopher Street. Full of hope and determination she got up and paid her bill. Then she asked the door-boy the way to Christopher Street, which, luckily, was only a short walk from Washington Square. At last she found Angel’s Travel Bureau, and the first glance through the revolving glass door as the busy scene within made her draw back. But instantly taking herself firmly in hand she forced herself to enter. “I've called about the vacancy for an information clerk,” she ventured when a sleek young man at last asked what he could do for her. “Second floor —Mr. Rogers,” he reeled off. Molly looked about, bewildered. At last She saw a lift and made for it. It struck her forcibly that there was a very different feeling about going into a shipping office, to apply for work, and going in to buy first-class steamer tickets. On this occasion she felt at a disadvantage, apologetic, and she was certain that she would never have the courage to make the most of her qualifications when she came face to face with this Mr. Rogers. “This way, miss—Mr. Rogers can spare you one minute.” At last the moment had arrived! What an anxious, tremulous moment it was! She w r as ushered into a spacious office surrounded by glass-partitioned corridors and other offices. At a huge desk sat a big, grey-faced man with pale blue eyes, and grey hair. “Miss Briant —candidate for the information post,” announced her guide. Rogers looked up at her very critically. She felt his eyes drilling deep into her inmost mind. “What experience?” he demanded. Molly’s face fell, at that. It was just her luck to be knocked out in the first round. “I'm afraid I haven’t had much,” she faltered. . “I’m sorry I because, I must get work,”

(To be continued.)