QUEEN OF A DAY.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 145084, 8 September 1916, Page 8

QUEEN OF A DAY.

A CHARMING LOVE STORY OP DOMESTIC INTEREST.

Gy STELLA M. DURING. Author of “Lovo’s Privitegie,” “Tho End of tho Rainbow,” “Faery Cold,” “Ocringham’s Daughter,” “in Search of Herself,“Malicious Fortune,” “Seedtime and Harvest,” Etc., Etc.

CHAPTER IX. “Ain’t she a pictnr* now, fairly a picUir’ I” Elsie blushed and sparkled all over. It was nice to bo called a picture, even if Mre, Pounds didn’t pronounce the word quite as she should have.done. It was delicious to stand here, arravod in mist and dewdrops, with youth Tor nor heritage, and beauty for her dower, receiving tho worshipful admiration of all Mrs. Pounds’ little household. “Made it herself, she ’as,” Mrs. Pounds went on, “out o’ that bit o spangled net you give her at Christmas, Mr. Bingham; that wot you got cheap because it ’ad a fault in it.” Mr. Bingham, as head assistant in the dims department of tho big Bon Marche not Taj* awav, was able to get things, thjngs with faults in them, very cheap sometimes. “Took some ’iding, that fault, didn’t it, Elsie. But she managed it all right at last. An’ we’ve made her a hopora cloak out of my old white Injy cashmere shawl. It’s bin law away this thirty year’ an’ I didn’t 800 someone shonldn t use it at last. , , » my dear,’ I sez, ’there may bo cloaks more fash’nable, but thoro won t bw one worth more money, not one in all the lot.’ I wouldn’t have it cut. I set me foot down thoro, but sho’s jest looped it, up and fastened it with a. ribbon bow. there, you wouldn’t believe bow nice it looks. An’ Charlie did ’or ‘air, dldn t yon. Charlie, jest for tho fun of the tiling.” TJ _ ~ “Prettiest hair over I handled, said Charlie, enthusiastically. “If on ,Y slic’d ait in my window of a Saturday night, just as she m now. My 1 shouldn’t I ’avo a rush.” “’Ere, wail a moment, said Mr. Bingliam, and after fumbling in the passage for a second turned out the gas and threw tho vivid light of hw bicycle lamp on the shimmering little figure. Elsie blinked and laughed, enjoying her triumph with the frank delight of a child. It was sweet to dare the blinding rays and know that she need not fear their brightness. “On’y wants a pair of wings, down t she ” said Charlie rapturously, and Mr. Bingham cast his eyes up to tho ceiling and began to sing. “Queen of tho Rosebud Garden of Girls!” in a high and ridiculous falsetto. . Rut Mrs. Rounds saw nothing lint tho white face and pain-filled .'Vos of tho man sitting in tho shadow by tho window. To the others the pretty child in her glittering dance frock, standing in tho circle of white radiance on feet so light that they scarcely seemed to touch the floor, was simply the "nice little girl”that lived in the same house, whoso daintiness and grace added a charm to tho establishment, of whom they were fond and proud, very much as thev were fond and prond of the big black Persian cat that added its own dignity to the whitened, front steps on which it sometimes condescended to eit. But to Dyson she was the suit in heaven. as the draught of life-giving water in the desert, as (tear as tho eye-sight that stamped lier picture on his brain, as vital as tho life-tlood til at flowed the quicker for her presence. Mrs, Pounds glanced at him and spoke quite (haply. “ ’Ere, ’Coates, take that silly lamp away, you’re dazzling lice. An’ as for tho dances bein’ done, they ain’t begun vet, for Elsie, and for mo own part I don’t believe as how they ever will. Not this partic’ler dance, that is. Silly, I call it, to spend the money die’s got put away for ’er summer ’oliday on shoes an’ gloves an’ things for an evening hat’ll p’raps never come off. An* even if it docs come off she won’t lie able to make use of ’em, not properly. All she’s going to do is to watch tire others. But in my opinion it won’t never come off. She’s had no word from him. never once in all the fortnight an’ the dance is to-morrow an’ all.” “Never heard from 111111?” It. was Dyson's voice, tense and low. “No, nor in my opinion she never will.” “You thought that last time!” Elsie's reminder was quick. “You said ho wouldn’t come and take ns for that drive. But he did 1” “ 'E ’adn’t ’ad time to forget, last time. But this time ’o ’as. ’E’s ’ad a fortnight, ’an if ’e ’adn’t forgotten yon Vd 'a written an' said so. Stands to reason, my dear——” Hie sharp rat-tat of tho postman silenced her. Charlie Crawford sprang np the basement stairs three at a time. They heard him go along the pawage and pick up something from the.front mat. Then with a flying leap he was down again. “Miss Elsie Denham,” he said. It was a large square envelope with a largo square card inside. Charlie and Mr. Bingham and Mrs. Pounds crowded round tho little white figure and followed the delicately printed words over her shoulder. What concerned Elsie concerned them all.

“Miss Aline Forbor requests _ the pleasure of the company of Miss Kathleen Glonconner 1” Elsie looked up with darkening eyes. “He’s sent me someone olso’s card."she said. There was a moment's startled silence. Mrs. Pounds recovered herself first.

“Well, of course, Vd be sure to. It’s a spare one that ’e’s somehow managed to git ’old of. 1 don’t suppose you’ve anything to do but ju»t give it up.” , “But—l didn’t think ho would need to send me a card at all. 1, thought I should just slip in at the side door—where the tradespeople go.” “perhaps ’o couldn’t manage it that way. It stands to reason you’d get in easier with the crowd at the front than at any side door—a night like that. But doesn’t, he tell you what you’ve got to do? Isn’t there a word anywhere?" Yes, at the bottom of the envelope was a tiny, folded slip of -paper. Elsie took it out and held it in a close-shut hand. Mr. Bingham and Charlie both glanced first at hoi' and then at the clock. Plainly they were de trop. “Well, nicely we’re wasting our precious time,” said Charlie vivaciously. “Pity wo hadn’t something better to do of a half-holiday, eh, Elsie? Well, ta-ta, hope you’ll have a good time.” But Mr. Dyson took no awkwardly chivalrous departure. Whatever was in that letter he meant to hear. And Elsie conceded his right. “Sorry, I can’t oome for yon,” she read a little breathlessly. 1 ‘Take a taxi and get here about half-past nine when the crush will be thickest. Come right in with the others and* look' towards your left hand for me. I’ll be there. B.” “Well, there you are!” said Mrs. Pounds triumphantly, as though she had known that the letter would come

all the time. Dyson got up from his chair by tho window and cam© slowly forward. .. . ~, . "Elsie, I don’t like the whole thing, he said gravely; “Wry should you go under false pretences into a house that is not open to you, among people who. if they know who yon really are, would shut their doors in your face. 1 ask you, I beg of you, not to go.” “But,” said Elsie, and her voice trembled a little, “yon never want mo to go anywhere.” “Yes, I de. 1 want yon to go everyiwhore that you can go safely.” “Safety!” Her tone was startled indeed, lire. Pounds, gave an indulgent, comfortable, commonsensc langn. “Why, there, Mr. Dyson, 1 do think vas you’re taking it a bit too serious,” she'said. “"Tisn’t as if I meant to let 1 }*.,■ take any chances. 1 ain’t one to ,do that an’ I should ’a thought you’d ’a known it. I’ll go with her mcself at nine an’ bring her back mosclf before twelve.” . . “Dike Cinderella,’ said Elsie, and (gave him a-storry smile. “An’ it isn’t a« if wc didn t know r where she was going. She’s bin in the 1 ’ouse before, haven't you, Elsie, when you took ’omc that embroidered silk. ",\u’ she knows Cady Ferbor by sight an 1 Miss,llaline, too, don’t you, Elsie? An’ it that young feller can slip her • in arhong the to s<h? tho^iiiio i folks enj'ying of themselves ” “Dressed like that!*’ “He said 1 must he-dressed so that ! I shouldn’t be noticed among the others. Don’t you like me—dressed like this?” ... „ . “Like you! He . flung the inadequate word at her with bitterness. I don’t like the adventure. Ewe, for it is an adventure, whichever way you look at it. I don’t like it at all “But vou never like anything that :I want to dol” - when there is an CHomont ot .risk in it.” “Risk I What possible risk The girl broke off on the verge ot tears. She was mot bound to consider Mr Dyson’s wishes, but that they should be in such direct opposition to ’her own was tragic. And they were so ,often in opposition’ to her own. tie ihad not wanted her to go lor that motor drive a fortnight ago. It she had listened to him she would have lost tile day, the perfect day, that would die jewel-liko in her memory for all the rtwt of her life. And if she listened to him now she would lose another, she in whose leaden Hfo jewel days were ,80 rare. Slie understood of course, the root of his opposition. It was jtakiiiKV. He did not want her to go out with .anyone but himself. And he had no iright, as vet, to lay‘.restrictions ot that kind upon her. H was imreasonable, (tyrannical and absurd. Why could ho mot lot her have this simple pleasure unopposed? Why must.Jio spoil her enjoyment by protests i For it would sped’her enjoyment. All the time she would I see his disturbed face and-sombre eyes. Ho caught the gleam on him brown Hashes and misunderstood it, of course. “Elsie,” he entreated, “giro it up for—for my sake ” wamon W tongue, but what reason had ho-to suppose that j-ho would give up anything for his his sake? “For your own sake, he -.substituted lamchr. 111 .make it up .to you. I’ll take you “To tho Athenaeum, witli quick .scorn. “And have to come homo in •the middle like wo did last (tune bc-K-au.se of your horrid paper \ . Ho whitened swiftly. Hie. pleasures iho could offer her were .so few and so wimple, and ho was always at the hock and call of his “horrid paper; Elsie glanced at him and her heart melted. She took a quick step to his-side and laid a light hand on bis tense-arm. ‘SNot that I don’t like to go to the Athenaeum,” she said softly. “I like, vou know 1 like, to go anywhere with you But vou can’t often take me out. and I 'don’t, see • why I shoiildn t go hero as well.” “An’ no more do I, saw Mrs. .Pounds with comfortable finality. Dyson stood a moment looking down. Tliat was just what was wrong, they could not see. Ekic, if sho could not enjoy the party as a guest, was quite content to enjoy it as » spectator from the level of the servants hall, and Mrs. Pounds dkl not see why she shouldn’t! ■ ~ “There, Mr. Dyson, sho said comfortingly when Elsie had left them to take off her finery, “don’t you worry. It’ll be all right. He’s a very nice voung foiler.if V is only a shancr, an ‘as fur the girl making friends with nn, well, you know, wc am t gentlefolks. Elsie an’ me !” To which all he couin saiy was that he didn t like it, hi. ■ didn’t like it at all. And all at once ( good Mrs. Pounds lost patience. “Why don’t vou stop it, then, she asked tiim crisply. “You could m a minnit if you’d a mind, ion can t expect other young fellers won’t como after a girl as pretty os she w. why. there’s Mr. Bingham and Charlie, they’d dust her shoos fur a smile! Mrs Pounds was quite aware of the "fact that she was convoying to Mr. Dyson’s mind a little more than the truth and was of opinion that it wouldn’t do him any harm. “An’ now there’s this young sliaffor. • Oh, yes, e is after her you may jest make up yonr mind to that, an’ she might do worse than marry a stiddy young man earnincr Lis two pounds u week. If you don’t like it, Mr. Dyson, you’ve got to say so.” “Say sol 1 have said so. “Not as you should ’a done. You’ve never asked her to marry you." “Marry! On three pounds a week!” “She’d better marry you on three than him on two. Anyway, yon might give her a chance —and see how she takes it.” , , “I know how site would take It, he answered drearily. “I know only too well.” I (To be continued.)