QUEEN OF A DAY.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 145085, 9 September 1916, Page 8

QUEEN OF A DAY.

A CHARMfIW LOVE STORY OF DOMESTIC INTEREST.

By STELLA M. DURING. Author of “Love’s Privilege.' End of the Rainbow.” ‘ Gold,” “Dcringbanrs Dane “In Search of .Herself,” “Ah Eortnnc.” “Seedtime and vest,” Etc... Etc- “ The ‘Faery 'liter,” dicions liar-

CHAPTER X. There was a block in Craven gardens. A long line of ears crawled slowly past No. ’if. setting down daintily-dressed occupants where an awning straddled across the pavement, and a strip ol ■ crimson carpet lay underneath. I hey were mostly young people, laughing, merrv-faeed hoys and girls, 1 hough the stately figure of a chaperone punctuated the stream of arrivals here and there. And mostly they came in parties of three or four together, though there seemed to he only one in the modest taxi-eah 'just turning in at the gates. This one sat, half-leaning from The open window, watching with won-der-darkened eyes the stream of cloaked and hooded figures passing under the awning and up the brightlylighted steps. , . “There." she said in an excited whisper, “there's another cloak just like mine. We never thought, did we. that vmir old cashmere shawl would turn out to he so fashionable. It’s such a prettv girl weaving it, a girl mi older than ine. Oh, and there's one with diamonds in her hairl I’m sure thev'ro diamonds. I saw them shine." ••'Sit down, Elsie, an' ho’avc yourself," said Mrs. Pounds, and no chaperone of them all could have reproved with more dignity. "One 'd think vou’d never bin to a party before. ” ‘ ...

Elsie ohove.d her and sighed, lor a bitter truth' suddenly thrust itself upon her. She was not going to a party now, not properly, like the others, to dance and have supper and he introduced to admiring partners and meet friends. She was only to watch from some obscure corner while these others enjoved themselves. Why, when she V as'dressed so that she could not bo distinguished from the others, couldn’t she have boon going to the party properly like the others'? The .shari) eliek of the opening door roused her with a start. A livened man-servant throw it wide. Mrs. Pounds held tightly a moment to the “Injv” cashmere. “Quarter to twelve, mind, an not a minnit later." . “Oh no, I promise." whispered Elsie, and drew the softly fringed folds ol her white clonk about her and stepped lightly in her turn out on to the crimson carpet. , , How she got over the pavement and up the steps she could never remember. The next thing she knew was herself as the trembling centre, of a blaze of light, with a gorgeous functionary bowing before her and taking her card awav from her. ami palm trees and people in shifting kaleidoscopic groups all around. There she stood paralysed, helpless with indecision and dismay, tor however much she might look to her left hand no one who could by any possibility bo taken for a chauffeur was there. ’ What should she do? Where should she go? A dreadful inclination to turn round and run out again into the dark street among the curious loiterers and the quiet authoritative policemen shook her like a cruel, compelling hand. It seemed an eternity that she stood, ico-eold and alone, and then someone with a familiar voice, a mischievous face and merry brown eyes, someone dressed like all the other “gentlemen,” someone with tiny diamond studs in his shirt front, dancing shoes on his feet ami a shower-hunch of exquisite pink roses in his whitegloved hands, was by her side langh.ing, speaking. “do upstairs with the others,’ lie. whispered. “And when you come down again look for me.” And then he had gone, melted into a group of men exactly like himsell, ami she was going upstairs with the others, the, great bouquet of pink roses in her hand. A smiling maid relieved her of her cloak. A. knot of pretty girls made room for her in front of a great look-ing-glass, one of them pushed accidentally against her. and said, “Oh. I'm so sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?" with prettiest solicitude. Quito, Elsie reflected, as if she had been a lady •herself! And then she was going down into the big hall again with the palm trees and the people, who were all moving now in twos and threes through a great draped doorway hanked with flowers, where stood Alias Aline in the dress of pale pink, Elsie herself had helped to embroider. Lady Eerlier was just behind her, gorgeous in purple and lemon.

Someone offered a white-gloved hand. Mr. Brooke, who to-night looked so very unlike a chauffeur, was at the staircase foot. She was waited for, claimed, as all the other happy girls had been. But ho did not take his place in the line of people all moving now towards Miss Aline standing in the wide, draped door, ho drew her quickly through. “Xot that way," he whispered, amt slipped behind a group of palms and then through a doorway into a room which but for the ruddy glow of the fire was dark. “Did anyone, see ns?” he inquired with a breathless laugh. “J don’t think so," returned Elsie .soberly. “Why? Would yon get into trouble if they did?” “Jove, shouldn’t I !” with fervour.

“I should got a most delightful wigging If mother ever knew. Don’t look so dumbfounded, yon dear little donkey!” as they came out into another room filled with long tables laden with glass and silver and flowers and trait. ••Yon surely never soberly ami seriously believed " “X did.” said Elsie blankly. “Lord,” said Brooke, “what a lark ! ’ and folded his arms across the trontof him and bent himself double with laughing. But Elsie only stood and stared at him. They had passed now through the room where the supper tables were, and had come to one. more an alcove than a room, with velvet seats running alt round it and another doorway, velvet draped, loading into the room where people were dancing. “Then,” she said at last, “aren't yon. did you never drive Lady Ferbcr’s “Of course I've driven it. often. You’ve seen me, haven’t yon? But I’m not her chauffeur, I'm her son. Come. Elsie, own tip, be honest. Von guessed, didn’t yon. you have known all tlio time, haven’t you? It was just a lark, wasn’t it?”

But Elsie hardly heard his laughing suggestion. “Then,” she objected slowly. “if you are not—what you said you were, why have you made friends with—a girl like me?” Brooke twitched the roses mil of her hold, tossed them lightly on to one.of the velvet seats, seized her two hands

anti waltzed her under the soft ]ift lit of the electrolier round and round the little room. . “Because you are so delicious, he .said, laughing again tillevery trhitc tooth in his head was visible. “Because you say things and do things that no girl in all this world ever said and did before. Because I’m sick to death of all the girls 1 know—'-but one. Because I bad to come to this beastly party, and I’d got to mako it interesting somehow.” Elsie snatched her hands away and stood, the rosy colour flooding her wholo face. .11 o was so deadly sick ot all the girls ho know—but one 1 But even yet she was not quite happy., •■'l—l ■ wouldn’t have, come if f had known,” she. said, and there was a little thrill in' her voice that threatened trouble. Brooke looked suddenly serious. Vi as his “lark,” the lark of dancing under Ids mothers' haughty, exclusive eves, with a little dressmaker's apprentice, the lark of (laying before his father s face the attentions that he meant to pay to a girl without a penny, to be spoilt at the very beginning.;' '•Hut now you are here you’ll stay, won't yon?'' he asked anxiously. on can’t go home again! You’ll have just one dance, won’t you, and au ice and a glass of wine? I thought you wanted lo’see all these things. I gave yon. the, chance on purpose. Come Elsie, ’ lor he saw the sudden yearning in her eyes, the sudden longing in her soil little face, “now you are here ” Ami the next moment she bad yielded to the gentle compelling of bis arm, to the enticement of the perfect Hour, to the sobbing minor wail oi the music and was through the archway and in the bail room. It was a moment of rapture snatched by a girl's daring band from a grudging Destiny. Even the remembrance of what -Mr. Dv.son bad said., a remembrance that lay like a thorn in her memory: "Why should yon go into a bouse that is not open to’ yon, among those who. if they knew who yon really nre (> would shut their doors in your face! ' could not spoil it. Had ’she not excuse;' Had she not divined that all the reasons Brooke had given, her for what he had done were not his real reasons? Had he not said he was sick of all the girls lie know—but one. Could sbe doubt that she was that one? It. explained everything. It made everything that had happened so understandable. Had not, once again, a girl's pretty face been her fortune! 'Was not hors the ’high adventure (of being loved hr a man above her in station? LUie waltzed not in Lady Ferbcr's ballroom but in Paradise. , , “Jove,” said Brooke admiringly as the music (lied away, and he found her a partly hidden scat, “but yon can dancef” and then ho caught Alines dark glance across the room, and nodded with smiling effrontery. But Aline was vexed. She had scon the two slip away from the hall, through the library, and cuter the ballroom from the upper end. and had oxcu.sod the imimeuvre. It was Lady Berber, die told herself. Brooke was naturally anxious to avoid. But lie had no reason to avoid the Mstrr who had .sympathised with him and promised'to help him. He had told her that he would make his sweetheart known to her, had spoken of her grace and charm and pledged her to his aid. That the grace and charm wore undeniable Aline could see for herself. But Brooke was not keening to hi< side of the bargain. Ho had made no effort to make his chosen love known to her, though she had given hint more than one opportunity. And Aline was the old tale,” she told herself bitterly. “All Brooke's swans are geese.' There is some reason why he daren't, introduce her. 1 might have guoss**tf how it would ho And at that moment Bobbie tarrnthers came up. wiping a heated brow and obsessed hv the same grievance. “Who's the girl, the uncommonly jirrttv girl that old Brooke has got over there?” he asked with the freedom of long acquaintance, “I'd like to dance with hoe. .she looks as light as a feather, and the old dog-in-the-manger won't let me. AY ho is she. Aline? “She is .Miss Kathleen tllenconner,' answered Aline steadily, "and 1 wish von could get to know her, Bobbie. She is a friend of Brooke's, not of mine, and—and I want to know what she is like." Bobbie looked at her for a moment. ••I'll try again," he said, with an understanding little nod. Aline watched him with interest, he was evidently making strong represeii; tations. reorcsenlations the force of which Brooke grudgingly admitted. For he took Bobbie over to "Miss Kathleen Gleneonner." and after that the little sylph-likc figure in white had more than one partner. Later. Aline, still watchful, saw Bobbie take her into the snpner-room, and after that he came hack, laughing and a little puzzled, to report. “Well ” asked Aline anxiously. ‘•Well,” he hesitated. “I—l don't see any reason why he should he so beastly’ exclusive. She's pretty, yon can see that for yourself, can’t you, there isn't another girl in the room to touch her. She looks all light, but her manners, well, her manners arc the manners of Beckham Bye. I bumped up against heV and begged her pardon, and she said “(Iran ted !” most sweetly. Yes, 1 assure you she did 1 I don't think she has ever seen a champagne bottle before. She would have a. little, she said, just to tasto what it was like. And she wouldn’t have any fruit because she wasn’t quite snro how to eat it. Oh, indeed, she said so herself! Exce.pt grapes. She was ‘ very partial ’ to grapes, she told me." “I knew there was,something,” said Aline Indignantly and stood a thoughtful moment. For there was nothing in all that to which one might really object. and Brooke had told .her she had lived a life of utter seclusion in the country. Bobbie looked at her curiously. “If you want to know what' she is like why don’t you speak to her yourself?" he asked. Aline shook her head with decision. If Brooke wanted her sympathy and co-operation ho must ask for it.’ But she would make it easy for him. “Brooke,” she said, when at last chance brought them side by side, “why don’t yon do as yon said yon would—and make her known to me?” Brooko looked at his sister and grinned. “I can’t,” he said, “she isn't here.” Aiino drew back in scarlet indignation. “How can you,” she remonstrated. “h«y dare yo’u lie to me like that? When I have seen her with yon all the evening, when her card is'with the others on my writing tabic. T looked on purpose to see. I know what it means, of course. Yon daren’t introduce her! She isn’t what yon represented her to be!’’ “Jove, I’m afraid she isn’t.” ho agreed laughing heartily. And Aline turned her shoulder on him in dfscurt. But. .Elsie snt a little queen with an admiring court about her. Her ehildish_ delight in everything she saw, the naive questions she out. for she was snflicienly at home how to ask questions, the shy simplicity that saved her from any trace of awkwardness, was charming beyond words to the little circle of blase men surrounding her. “Jove, isn’t she like a dowy rose-.

hud?" said one of them, and Brooke heard him. Bm he could not stand, dark-faced, forbidding, stiffly proprietory, behind tlie girl's coair for ever. As a son of the boose he bad duties that must ho, performed, and whilst he was away Elsie danced with the others. by not! She was iv.dtiiug with the man who had called her a rosebud when suddenly she thought of Mrs. Bounds and tho taxi-cab and stopped. "Ob, please can you tell me the right time?” she a-ked. Her voice and accent ami manner were exactly those ol the shy little girl that, if yon have n kind enough face, accosts you with the same questions in the park. Her companion, a man past his first youth, looked at her with keen amusement. "Why?" he asked abruptly. “Because I must go—if it >' anywhere near twelve." "Show me your shot's. ’ he demanded, and Elsie showed them obediently. . "They are nut made ot glass, lie objected with gravity, "so there ran ho no reason why we shonldn t finish our dance." And Elsie laughingly glided into the circle oneo more. But at the upper end of the room by the velvet-hum; arch leading into the aleovc she stopper! again. ‘.‘l really must g 0.." she told him tragically. " Can you see Mr. Brooke anywhere!'" "N’o. not anywhere. Shan’t Ido instead?’’

"Oh, no please," in almost tragic entreaty, and she ran through tho velvethung arch anil left him. Tho supper room was nearly full oi laughing, chattering people, but she could not see Brooke among them. No one took any notice of her beyond a smiling look as she made headway through. But at the lower end of tho room were two doors. Which had they conic through? she asked herself, not daring to hesitate, and chose, in desperation, the wrong one. For it led not into the warm darkness of the library, fragrant with morocco leather and faintly scented with tobacco smoke, but into a girl’s room, a room full of flowers and pictures and cushions and books such as a girl loves, and over by the tire was a girl, dark-eyed, pale, nearly-looking, a girl whom not even the most careful dressing could make pretiy. Miss Aline herself. Elsie stood, frozen stiff, with leaden feet glued to the carpet- and cold wide eyes fixed on the one who would surely pluck from her, poor little shivering daw. the borrowed feathers she hail worn so bravely all that evening. Hut Miss Aline looked at her with what could only be welcome in her eyes. *hs did not seem to recognise her for a daw at all. .She even name forward to meet her and greet her, though slowly, and as though she were not quite sure of her ground. “Has—ho sent you?" she asked almost eagerly. Elsie said nothing. Her tongue was stitt', her lips were cold. What did she moan? And then Miss Aline came up to her with a little gliding run and laid both her bands on her shoulders. ''Dear,’’ she said gently, more gently than Elsie -would ever have believed she could have spoken, “don’t look so frightened. 1 know all about it. Ho has told me everything."

“You—know!” Klsio hardly breathed the words. And then. because if Miss Aline knew ber present attitude seemed so fildly impossible.” AVlmt dni. you know V ‘‘Dear. I know bo loves you. 1 hope, 1 know, that you are going to ebanefo all tbo world for bim—and for me! 1 * And then. “My little sister,’’ bbo . whispered softly nnci stooped and ku&cd ber. fTo be*continued.)