INFATUATION.

Thames Star, Volume LXII, Issue 17419, 6 September 1928, Page 3

INFATUATION.

By B. M. CROKER. (Author of “Pretty Miss Neville,” “A Bird of Passage,” “Mr Jervis,” “Terrence,” “Beyond the Pale,” “The Cat’s-Paw.”

CHAPTER XVI

‘P.P.C.”

Captain Borrodaile was standing in his sitting-room with is hack to" the fire, holding converse with himself.

“Fontaine will he going up to town in about ten days. Maimie said her father would he completely rested by that time. He wants to he near the Heralds’ College, and she is bored to death here, I shall not he down again. Who would have thought of -Maria and me being under the same*:' roof and not once meeting! ‘Ships that pass in the. night’ was nothing to it !”

Then’ he rang the beil to summon Miss Smee and his account. “Got a cab?” lie asked, in his usual brusque manner.

“Yes, sir.” “This the bill? I'm, urn. um”—looking over the items. “That ham was deuced dear ana deuced bad./ What’s this? Cream, eighteen-pence? Oh. I remember. The laundress!—she ought to he wrung out and ironed. I could wash better myself. However, on the whole I’ve been pretty comfortable. My things gone clown—eh? Rugs,’ umbrelja, suitcase? Just look, will vou?”

CHAPTER XVII

-Miss Since, eager to speed the parting nest, instantly obeyed. When she re-entered the room, Captain Borrodaile was standing on the hearthrug, with a kind of grim smile upon his face and a card-case in his hand.

“I see you’ve kept your promi.se,” ho remarked, “or, by Jove! I’d have found myself in a tight place—eh?” Miss Smee stood before him, her eyse meekly downcast and her hands folded, kittle did he suspect that she was trembling all over with rage. “Here's five shillings for yourself.” throwing with a lordly air two halfcrowns upon the table, “and my card. When I’ve cleared out of the place, 1 want you to take it up to Miss Talbot with my compliments.” Miss Smee coloured deeply and drew back. Here, indeed, was . the refinement of cruelty! The two half-crowns were secret-service money, and represented tbe noble price of her silence “Thank you. no, sir.” waving her hand in the direction of the 'silver. “And as for the card. ’ >Td rather not have anything to' say to it.”

“He is not here.”

“Really”—with a look of insolent amusement. “Then, 1 will give the card and tbe tip to Sarah.” The announcement rather staggered poor Fanny, who. after a moment’s hesitation, nerved herself to reply “Then in that case, ( sir, T think it will be better to give the card to me.” “So second thoughts are best, are they?” he exclaimed with a short laugh, as he handed her a card on which was inscribed:

“Captain Norris S. Borrodaile. “Late Royal Sandshire Scouts Cock-horse Club.”

And pencilled in the corner was “P.P.C.” As he scribbled, he had said to himself, with a snigger: “At anv rate, after this she cannot sav that I have not taken bv conge.”

Fanny Smeo glanced a the pasteboard in her hand. She saw the pencilled letters, and she understood. Occasionally quiet, demure little Fanny could he surprisingly sharp. “One need not go from had to worse,’’she burst out furiously. “What’s that? Ob. I say,” pulling mt his watch. “I’ve run it rather fine.

Good-bye! Perhaps I’ll come hack some day. on the same terms,” and lies Hatched up his cap and strode out of the room, leaving -Miss Smee with liis card in her possession. She did not descend to speed him—Sarah could do that. Presently she heard the door shut, and as the fiy drove off she went to the window and looked after it.

“1. hope he may never come hack He shall not come here, at any rate.”

Then she glanced once more at the. card io her hand, “I suppose 1 must give it to her,” she continued aloud. “I wonder if I dared to burn it?”— and she stared longingly at the fire. “Perhaps it’s all for the best.” she muttered, turning away. “It will open her eyes, if it d'ces nothing else. I’ll just leave it in front of the clock upon her chimney-piece, and she will find it whenever she comes home.”

A VISITING-CARD AND A PHOTO GRAPH.

Miss Talbot, for a wonder, happened to be at home, and was standing with her hat on, arranging her veil before the gla.s sin her little sitting-room. “What is it. Fanny?” turning quickly round; then, catching sight of the card. “A visitor for me?”

But Miss Smee, who was deadly pale, made no reply other than handing her the pasteboard. “Thank' God!” she gasped, after a moment’s expressive silence; and her companion was struck by the strange look in her eyes, and the wonderful light on her face. “Where is he?” she continued, making a hasty dash towards the door.

Miss Smee, however, by a rapid counter-march, placed herself directyl in front of it. and said :

“Not here? Then, how do you c-ome by this?” extended the card in her trembling hand. “Oh, Fanny, can’t you speak! How dare you keep me waiting, after all these years?”. “Miss Talbot, I’m sure I don’t know how I’m to break it to you.”

“Not ill! Oh,( not ” Miss Talbot had seized Fanny’s arm, but her voice failed her. Evidently it had been reserved for Captain Borrodaile to exploit the dramatic possibilities of the common visiting-card.

“Oh. no. He is as well as you are.” returned Fanny, with an air of angry disgust. “He—has been here this three weeks, and has just gone hack to London” ; and she turned away her face for very shame, as she hurriedly added: “He was the gentleman in tbe drawing-room.” “I—l don’t—understand you,” faltered Miss Talbot in a husky voice, as she grasped tbe back of a cliair, and turned on Fanny a face of white bewilderment.

“No, miss, you did not recognise him. but lie knew you at a glance. He saw you on the stairs—the day he took the rooms.”

, “Oh, yes, yes. I remember—the tall man in knickerbockers. Oh, go on. go on!”

“And lie made me promise that f would never mention his name to you as long as he was hefe.’’ “Oh. Fanny!” cried her friend, with as heart-rending an expression as if it had been: ‘Et tu. Brute!’ ” “Well. but. Miss Maria, what could I do ? 1 could not send away three guineas a week; this house carries a heavy rent, and I bad a sort of mad

notion that I’d bring you together, oi that the old deg might have done it—just like what you read of in novels. So I agreed to hold niy tongue, and I humbly confess that I was a fool.” “And do you mean to tell me that, all these weeks. Captain Bonedaile knew that I lived in tlie same house, and in the rooms just over him?” “He did.” said Fanny emphatically. c “And. Miss Maria, it’s not one flight, but' ten stories,' that you are above him. He is no gentleman. “Fanny, 1 wish you wouldn’t!” ex“No!” now. pouring out her long-pent-up vial of wrath. “No man is a hero to those that wait on him. Captain Borrodaile is a hard, cruel, selfish. wretch! Wait, miss, wait, and I’l bring von a glass of water,” for Miss Talbot had suddenly dropped into a chair, looking exceedingly white. “He is not worth another thought. Here, put him out of your mind like this”; and she unexpected snapped up the card, and threw it into the grate. “Fanny, I wish you woudn’tH” expostulated Miss Talbot, when she had choked down half a tumbler full of water. “How can I put out of mv head a man I’ve known since I- was a child?”

“Well, miss,” cried Fanny, who was no longer a meek and self-effacing, person. hut a little blapk fury, “if you consider him worthy, after such.-cold-blooded. wicked treatment. I must say that I think you have no common selfrespect ancl no spirit. I’m just speaking to you now as woman to woman, face to face.” The emotions and strain of the last three weeks had told severely upon Miss Smee’s nerves, and worn her temper somewhat threadbare. “No. I’ve no spirit,” responded Maria, bursting, into tears. “Any that I ever had. left me years ago.”

f OUR SERIAL STORY