Our Serial Story

Thames Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 14470, 8 March 1913, Page 3

Our Serial Story

THE HEIRESS OF THE SEASON. —♦—

(By Sir William Magnay, Baronet.) Author of "The Pride of Life," "The Full of a Star," and others. '

i -CHAPTER XXII.

OUT OF THE NET.

"Many clever n>en have done it, with tbo inevitable result; they have dropped out of the :unning at once. So you can't be too guarded. Arid you know, Mr Thornihold/ 1 she added with maternal frankness, "a man like yourself is naturally h mark for ©very designing little minx." This was intended as a liit at Maud Oakhirst. "I hope I can take care of myself," Jucelyn answered "After all, one need be in no hurry to get mairied.; * "Oh, but it would be an excellent thing —the best thing you could do," Lady Eossio objected impressively. "With your wealth and coming position, it is absolutely necessary that you should hare a wife," "Is it?' he af.lsed half quizzingly. ''Certainly. To take the head of your table; to recive your guests to * "Won't Catherine do?" "CUlherineK will gem married very soon, I shouldn't wonder." For the mutch with > Odo Repton was now decidedly within the range of practical strategy. "The j girl .1 allude to is quite a- prize in tlxe i " marriage lottery: tall, handsome, a j superb figure, a presence —you must not | have an insignificant doll. This girl is a beautiful woman with a clever head on her shoulders—magnificent shoulders they are, too —a girl who -nould play her part like a queen. Such a. neck for diamonds ! such a figure and carriage for pretty gowns! —a most" fascinating, lovi> bio girl. You are a lucky young man,' Mr Thornihold, for I have a very shrewd idea that she admires you." With all a youngster's share of conceit Jocelyn could not help feeling a little incredulous about this paragon. "May I know her name?" he asked diffidently. "Of course," Lady Rossie responded, playing her fish as her hyper-diplomatic custom was—"of course she has plenty of admirers, and some very desperate ones among them. But you, rriy dear Mr Thornihold, have more than a chance, as I have just hinted, and, with me at your back—for you know what an interest I take in yov and your sister—" Jocelyn bowed in acknowledgment. "Is tho lady's name a secret?" he asked again . , "It ought to be. But I don't want you, for lack of a hint, to miss a happy chance. You have, met Annabel Scotby, Lord Duffington'3 niece?" Jocelyn had a vague recollection of .having danced with Tier, and said -so. ""Isn't she all. arid.more, thaif I have described?" Jocelyn thought that she was considerably less, still he did not like to say so. But he could not help the remark. "Miss Scotby is rather fast, isn't she?" For he .seemed to have heard after-dinner stories not exactly to the of Lord Duffington's niece. "Fasti* Lady Rossie looked hurt, almost injured . "My dear Mr Thornihold, when you have & little more experience of the world you will learn to discriminate between high spirits land what you call "being fast. Annabel Scotby is full of fun, but intensely proper when it comes to overstepping certain bounds." Odo Repton came across to them, a letter in his hand. . ... "Oh, Thornihold. I am sorry to say we shati be short of a speaker to-night. Shewton can't come. An awkward affair has happened, mother; that ass, Devizes, Shrevlon's brother-in-law, has run off With Annabel Scotby, so our man has to go down to Marstock to comfort Lady D»Can you imagine even Devizes* being- such a fool as to go overboard for a* hack like tho Scotby girl?' Lady Rossie's benevolent mask fell for , a moment, giving place to a very different expression. For the second time lately she had made, the mistake of not ac: quainting her family with her plans, with the result that her son again • proved a veritable marplot. After a moment's reflection, however, * she took comfort from the thought that, In any .case, the frail Annabel was now. a, hopeless subject for her schemes. The worst of the lousiness was that tt vnad-e her look somewhat ridiculous in young Thornihqld's eyes, and so weakened her influence with the family. She gave; her son a significant. look which he well understood, and then said, witEout 'fear of contradiction — "Devizes is not the fool yourthink him, my dear Odo His history, if you knew it, would prove him to be an unscrupulous man—very insinuating, as many a girl has found to her cost. I only wish I had known his game earlier, I could; Have saved that swieiet girl from him. Now, "of course, she is irretrievably compromised. Poor Lady Duffington!—and Her poor mother, too! I must write. But really one cannot keep one's self au courantwith all the intrigues of the London season. Poot Annabel! An enviable life and a brilliant career blasted by a moment's weakness. It is one of the greatest trials of our social existence that one has occasionally to witness the wreck of "the brightest, hopes. Poor Lady Scotby ! what will she do? Poor Sir John! He doted on her; his f&vouite daughter.' During this lamentation odo. Repton had found it necessaipy to look hard out of the window tf* hide the smile which even he could not suppress. Thero was only one mood in his mother's varied repertoire he could' not accept with a "grn.v.s1 face ; that wns" when she wns by • vvfiry <"f -being sympathetic, and set herself to deliver a.. Jeremiad ever the wickedness of society. Her moan was. however,- cut-short by the approach^ of ■■Montjo'y, alert and important* - ; ; .'.- --•" ■; : .-...;,.; >-. ;■..-,'.-- .;. , (To be ContanueS.)