TRISTRAM OF BLENT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7147, 11 July 1901, Page 4

TRISTRAM OF BLENT.

AN EPISODE IN THE STORY - OF AN ANCIENT HOUSE. (By ANTHONY HOPE.) [All Rights Resekvbd.] CHAPTER XXI. THE PERSISTENCE OF BLENT. Harry Tristram awoke the next morning with visions in his head— no unusual thing with young men, yet strange and almostunknown, to him. They had not been wont to come at Blent, nor had his affair with Janie Iver created them. Possibly a const&n*, although unconscious, reference of all attractions to the standard, or the tradition, of Addie Tristram's had hitherto kept him free; or perhaps it was merely that there were no striking attractions m the valley of the Blent. Anyhow, the visions were here now, a series of them, covering all the hours of the evening before, and embodying for him the manifold ohanges of feeling which had marked tie time. He saw himself as well as Cecily, «nd the approval of this eyes was still for Jumself, their irritation for her. But he could not, dismiss her from the pictures ; he realised this with a new annoyance. He by later than his custom was, looking at her, recalling "what she had said as he found the need of words to write beneath each maat&l apparition. Under the irritation, aad greater than it, was the same sort of satisfaction that his activities had given bim— a. feeling of more life a/nd broader ; this thing, though rising out of the old lii«, fitted in well with the new. Above •11, that sentence of hers rang in his head, its extravagance, perhaps, gaining pre«mdnence for it: "If ever the time comes I ■hall remember 1" The time did not seem likely to come— *o far as he could interpret th» vague and lather threadbare phrase — hab her resolution started his interest, and «oded by exacting ibis applause. He was Jrlad that she 'had resisted, andi had not alowed herself to be trampled 0n... Though Ithe throat was very empty, its utterance aho**d a high, spirit, such a spirit as he «till -wished to preside over 1 Blent. It was fast what his mother might have said, with in equal intensity of determination and an •qual absence of definite purpose. But the whole proceedings had been just what ne could imagine his mother bringing aibout. Consequently he was rather blind to the extraordinary character of the step Cecily had taken ; ■© f ar he was of the same clay as his cousin. He was, however, none the less outraged by it, and none the less sure that he had met. it in, the right way. Yet he did not consider that there was any quarrel between them, and he meant to see more of her; he was accustomed to "scenes" occurring and leaving mo permanent estrangement of bitterness; the storms blew over tihe sand, but they did not in tne end stake muoh <3ifl[erence in the sand. There was work to be done— the first grave critical bit of work he !had ever had to do, the first real measuring of Ihimself against an opponent of approved ability.go he would think no moTe about tAie girL TWs resolve did 7 not work. She, or rather her apparition, seemed to insist that she had somei&'hiiig to do witih the work, was concerned in it, or at least meant to look on at it. Harry found that 'he lhadi small objection, or even a sort of welcome for her presence. Side by side with the man's pleasure in doing the tihing, there was still tome of the boy's delight in showing he could do it. Wihat had passed yesterday, particularly that idea of doing things for mkn which lie had detected and raged at, made it additionally pleasant that 'he *houH be seen to be capable of doing things |or himself. All tlhis was vague, but it •wm inttus mind as he walked to Sloyd's offices. ' Grave and critical, SloyaVa aerrous ex■ft»mmnt and uneasy deference towards Iver ■were tfhe only indications of any such thing. Dupl&y was there in the background, cool ana easy. Iver himself was inclined to gossip with Hairy and to rihaff him on Ihe fresh departure ihe had made, irather than to settle down to a discussion of Blinkhampton. That was after all a small matter—so his manner seemed to assert; he had been on town anyhow, so he dropped in; Dnplay had made a pojns pi it in his - •crapulous modesty as to his own experience. Hairy found that he could resist the impression he was meant to receive enly by saying to himself as ihe faced his old friend ana present antagonist : " But you're here — you're here^ — you're here!" Iver could neither goseip nor argue that fact away. " Well, now," said Iver with a glance at his watch, "we must really get to business. You don't want to live in Blinkhampton, you gentlemen, I suppose? You want to leave a little better for your eh? Quite so. That's the proper thing wirh the sta-side. But you can't expect to find fortunes growing on the beach. Surely Major Duplay mistook .your figures?" " Unless he mentioned fifty thousand, he did," said Harry, firmly. ' "H'm, I did you injustice, Major— with some excuse, though. Surely, Mr Sloyd ! ■ ?" He turned away from Harry as ht •poke. "Am Ito talk to Major Duplay?" "I beg pardon," interrupied Hauy. Iver looked at him curiously. " Well, I'd rather talk -to you, Harry," he said. "And I'll tell you plainly what I think. Mr Sloyd's a young business man — 50 are you." , " I'm a baby," Harry agreed. "And blackmailing big people ini't a good way to start." He watcned Ha:rj, but he did not forget to watch Sloyd too. " Of course, I use the word in a figurative cense. The estate's not worth ' half that' money to you ; we happen to want it — Oh, I'm always open! — So " "He gave a shrug. " Sorry to introduce new and immoral methods into business, Mr Iver. It must 'be painful to you after all these years." Harry laughed good-humouredly. "I shall corrupt the Major too!" he added. : "We'll give you five thousand for your bargain — twenty-five in all." "I suggested to Major Duplay that being ahead of you was so rare an achievement that it ought to be properly recognised." Duplay whispered to Iver. Sloyd whispered to Harry. Iver listened attentively, Harry with evident impatieaice. "Let it go for thirty; don't make an enemy of him," had been Sloyd's secret counsel. " My dear Harry, the simple fact is that the business won't stand more than a certain amount. If we put money into Blinkhampton, it's because we want- it to ccane out again. Now the crop will be Limited." He paused. " I'll make you an absolutely final offerr^hirty." • . "My price is fifty," said Harry immov•Wy. ''Out of the question." "All right." Harry lit a cigarette with an air of having finished the business. "It simply cannot be done on the fig--sres," Iver* declared, with genuine . vexation. " We've worked it out, Harry, and it can't be done. If I shewed our calculations to Mr. Sloyd, who is, I'm sure, willfctg to be- reasonable^ " "Yes, Mr Iver, I am. I am, I hope, always desirous of— -cr — meeting gentlemen half-way ; and nothing could give me greater pleasure than to do business with you, Mr Iv«r." " Unfortunately you seem to haye — a partner," Iver observed. " No, I've told you the mosfc we can give." He l«ant back in his chair. This time it was 'he who had finished business. " And I've xold you the least we can take." "It's hopeless. Fifty! Oh, we should be out of pocket. It's really unreasonable." He was looking at Sloyd. " It's treating me as an tnemy — and I shall have no alternative but to aec.pt ths situation. Blinkhampton is not essential to me; and your hotel and so on won't flourish much if I leave my tumbledown cottag3s end pigsties just behind them. Will you put tates papers together, Duplay?" The Major obeyed leisurely. Sloyd was lickmg his lips and looking acutely* un- • happy.

"You're absolutely resolved, Harry?" "Absolutely, Mr Iver." "Well, I give it up. It's bad for me, and it's worse for you. In all my experience I never was so treated. You won't even discuss! Jtf you'd said thirtyfive, well, I'd have listened. If you'd even said forty, I'd have " "I say, done for forty!" said Harry quietly. " "I'd a sort of idea all the time that that might be your limit. I expect th« thing really wouldn't, stand fifty, you know. Oh, that's just my notion." Iver's faes was a study. He was surprised, he waa annoyed, but he was ,also sonewhat amused. ( Harry's acting had been. good. That obstinate, uncompromising, immutable fifty ! — Iver had rea.ly believed in it. ' And forty had been his limit — his extreme limit. He just saw his way to square his accounts satisfactorily if he were driven to pay that as the penalty of one of his rare mistakes. He glanced at Sloyd!; radiant joy and relief illumined that young man's face, as b& pave his moustache an upward twirl. Duplay was smiling — yes, smiling. At last Iver smiled too. • Harry was graye — not solemn — but merely not smiling because he did not perceive anything to smile at. No doubt he was gratified by the success of his tactics, and pleased that h:« formidable opponent had been deceived by them. But he thought nothing of what impressed Iver most. The tactics had been, no doubt, well conceived and carried out, but they were ordinary enough in their nature ; Iver himself, and dozens of nren he had met, could have executed them as well. What struck him was that Harry knew how fair he could go, that ihe stopped on the verge, but not beyond the boundary where a deal was possible. Mere guesswork could not account for that, nor had he ecnmiandied the sources of information which would have made the conclusion a matter ofordinary intelligent calculation. No, he had intuitions ; h-e» must have a-n eye: Now eyes were rare ; and when they were found they were to be used. I. :r was much surprised at finding one in Harry. Yet it must ba in Harry ; Iver was certain, that Sloyd had known nothing of the plaa of campaign or. of the decisive figure on which his associate .had pitched. " I'll give you forty," be said at "last. " For the whole thing, lock, stock, a*nd barrel— forty." "It's a bargain," said Harry, and Iver, with a sigh (for forty was tie extreme figure) pushed back bis chair and rose to his feet. "We've got a good many plans, sir," suggested Sloyd, very anxious to establish pleasant relations. "I'm sure we should be very glad if you; found 1 them of any service." "You're very good, Mr Slnyd, but— — " ".You may aa well "have a, look at them," interrupted Harry. "There are one or two good ideas. You'll explain them, won't you, Sloyd?" Sloyd had ailready placed one in Iver'a hand, who glanced at it, took another, compared them, and after a minute's pause iheld both out to the Major. " Well, Duplay, suppose you look at their and hear anything that Mr Sloyd is good enough to say, and report to me? You're at leisure?" "pertainly," said Duplay. He was in good humour, better perhaps thm if his chief had proved more signally successful. Harry turned to him, smiling. ' "I saw Madame Zabriska last night, at Lady Tristram's house. She's forsaken you, Major?" : "Mina's very busy about something," smiled the Major. - " Yes, she generally is," said Harry, frowning a Kittle. "If she tells you anything about me >" - "I'm not to believe it?" "You may believe it, but not the way she- puts it," laug&ed Harry. "Now, there's an end of business! Wailk down to the Imperium with, me, Harry, and have a bit of lunch. You've earned it, eh? How do you like the feeling of malting money?" " Well, I think it might grow cm a man. What's .your experience?" "Sometimes better than this morning, | or I should hardly iha-^e b^ea your neigja- ' bpur at Fairholme." The two walked off together, leaving Duplay and i Sloyd very amicable. Ivax was thoughtful. "You did <tbat well," he wid as they turned the 'corner into Berkeley Square. "I suppose I learnt to bluff a bit wihen I was at Blent." \ \ "That was all right, but— well, how did you put your finger on the figure?" "I don't know. It looked like "being aibout that, you know." "It was very exactly that," admitted Iver. ' "Rather a surprise to find our friend the Major going into business with you." " He'll be useful, I think, and— well, I'm short of help." He was eyeing Harry now, but he said no more about the morning's transaction till they reached the club. "Perhaps we shall find Nedd here," he remarked, as they went in. They did find Neeld, and also Lord Southiend, the latter gentleman in a state of disturbance about his curry. It was^not what «tny man would seriously call it a curry; it was no more than a fortuitous concurrence of mutton and rice. " It's an extraordinary thing," he observed to IveT, "that whenever Wilmot Edge is away, the curries in this club go to the devil— to the devil. And he's always going off somewhere, confound him !" "He can't be expected to stay at home just to look after your curry," Iver suggested. " I suppose he's in South America, or South Africa, or South somewhere or other out of reach. Waiter!" The embarrassed servant came. "When is Colonel Edge expected back?" "In a few weeks, I believe, my lord." "Who's Chairman of the Committee while he's away?" " Mr Gore-Marston, my lord." " There— what can, you expect?" He pushed away his plate. "Bring me some cold beef," he commanded, and the waiter brought it with an air that said "Icihabod" for the Imperium. "As soon as ever Edge comes back, I'll draw his attention to the curry.'\ \ Everybody else had rather lost their interest in the subject. Neeld and Harry were in conversation. Iver sat down by Southend, and while lunch was preparing, en-

deavoured to distract his mind by giving him a history of the morning. Southend, too, was concerned in Blinkbampton. Gradually the curry was forgotten as he listened to the story of Harry's viotory. " Sorb of young fellow Who might be useful?" he suggested, presently. "That's what I was thinking. He's quite Teady to work, too, I fancy;" ■ Southend regarded .his friend. He was thinking that if this and that happened— and they were things now witliin the bounds of possibility— lver might live to be sorry that Harry was not to be his son-in-law Hastily and in ignorance he included Janie in the scope of tins supposed regret. But at this. moment the guilty and incompetent Mr Gofe-MaTston had the misfortune to como in. Southend, all his grievance revived, fell on him tooth' and nail. His defence was feeble ; "he; admitted that ho knew next to nothing of currtes. an .(J — y^ the cock did get- cajreless when Wilmot. Edge's vigilant eye was removed. "He'll be home soon,"- Gore-Marston' pleaded^ "I've had „ letter" from him; he^s just got back to cjvi.isation, after being out in the wilderness, shooting, for .six weeks. He'll be here in a. month now, I think." -^ "We .shall have to salary him to stay," growled Southend. . Harry was amused at thia little episode, and listened ; sm ling. Possessing a knowledge of curries -seemed an odd way to acquire importance t fcr a fellow-creature, a strange reason for a man's return being desired. He knew who Wilmot Edge was, and it was funny to hear of Mm again in connection with curries. And curries seemed the oily reason why anybody should.be interested In ' Colonel Edge's return. : Not till they met: again in i the smoking-room were the curri^fineiliy forgotten. In later^<feyai!.S^fry caone to look bade I on that afte^nooajfli^he beginning of many new things for and Southend talked; oldv ifc NeeCd sat by, listening with the ints^st of; a man who feels he has missed sbirietMhg in life and would fain learn, even though he is too old to turn the knowledge to account. Harry, found himself listening too, but in a.different way. They were not talking idly ; they talked for him. .That mutia -he- soon, discerned. And they were not offering to help him. His -vigilant pride, still sore from the blow that Cicely had dealt ' it, was on the look-out for t ; hat. • ,But the triumph, of the morning, no less than the- manner of the men, reassured him. It is in its way an exciting miom.eint for a young man., when h* first receives a proof that his seniors, the men of actual achievement and admitted ability, think that there is something in him,, that he can 'bs> of service to them, t-hat it is in his power, if it be in his will, to emerge from the ruck and take a leading pkce. Harry was glad for himself ; 'he would have aeen •touched had he spared * lme to ob* 3^ 6 hew delighted old Ne&ld was on his accoupt. They made him no gift; they asked work from him, and Iver, true to. his traditions' and ingrained ideas, asked money us a guarantee for the work. You give me back what I'm going to pay you, he said " and since you've taken such an interest in Blinkhampton, turn to an<lsee what you' can make of it. It looked as if there was a notion or two worth considering in those plans of yours." Southend agreed to every suggestwgrwitn aa emphatic' nod: But there was:.lS^»ething more in hid mdnd. With eyer?-evi-dence of capability that Harry, ehfrweo., even with every increase in the chances of his attaining position and wealth lor himself, the prospect- of success i» tfoe other scheme-Iks scheme, still secret-grew brighter. The thought of that queer little woman Madame Zabriska, Harry s/champion, came into his mind. He would have something to tell her, if ever they met a«ain at Lady Evenswood's. He would bive something to tell Lady Evenswood % 'herself too. He quite forgot his curry— and Colonel Wilmot Edge, who derived his importance from it. Nothing was settled; there were only suggestions for Harry to think over. Bub h« was left quite clear that everything depended on himself alone, that he had only to will >and to work and a career of prosperous activity was before him. li» day had mare than fulfilled its promise.; what 'had seemed its great triumph appeared now to be, valuable only as an introduction and a prelude to something larger and mere real. Already be was looking back with some . surprise on the €streme gravity which he had attached to his libtie Blinkhampton speculation. He grewvery readily wtifre he was given room to grow- and all the while there was the impulse to shew himself— and others too— that- he did not depend on. Blent or on having Blent. Blent or no Blent he *as a man who could make himself felt He was on his trial stin, of course ; but he did not doubt of the verdict. What a thing depended for success or failure on Harry. alone, Harry had never been m the habit of doubting the result. The Major had noticed that trait in days whidh seemed now quite lcng ago ; the Ma] or had not liked it, but in the affairs of Me it probably had some value- - Except for one thing he seemed, to be well settled into his new existence. People had stopped starins; at him. lney had almost caasad to talk of him. He was rapidly becoming a bygone story. Even to himself' it seemed months since be had been Tristram c=f Blent; lie had no idea that any plans were afoot concerning him which, found their basis md justification in his having filled that position. Except for one thing he was' quit of it all. But •that remained, and in such strength as to colour all' the new exist«iCß. The busaxesg of the day had not driven out the visions of the morning. Real things should drove out fancies; it is serious, perhaps deplorable, when the real things seem- to derive at least half their importance from the relatioja that they bear to the fancies. Perhaps the proper conclusion would be that }n such a r case the fancies tos have their share of reality. , . "Neeld and I go down to Faufbojne to-mcrrow, Harry," said Iver as they parted. "No chance of seeing you down there, I suppose?" . Neeld thought the question rather brutal; Iver's feelings were not perhaps of the finest. But Harry was apparently unconscious of anything that 'grated. "Really, I don't suppose I shall ever go there again," he answered with a laugh. -Off with the old love, you know, Mr "Oh, don't say that," protested Southend. .'•!.• Thers was a hint of some meaning cm has speech which made Harry turn to km with auick attention. ■ " "Blent's a mere ntemory to me, lie declared.

The three elder men were silent, but they seemed to receive what he said with scepti-, cism. "Well, that's the only way, isn't it?" he asked. "Just at present, I suppose," South*nd said to him in a low voice, as he shoojt hands. These few words, with the subdued hint they carried, reinforced the strength of the visions. Harry was rather full of his own will a-nd proud of his own, powers just . now— perhaps with; some little excuse. But be began, thanks to the bearing of <tihisse men amd tc- the obsbijiate thoughts of hia own mind, to feel, still dimly, that it was a difficult thing to forget and to> get rid of the whole of a life, to make an entirely fresh start, to bs quite a. differ-Hit main. lTnm«pected chains revtakd themselves with each new motion towards •libex'ty. ! Absolute detachmttat had beeib his ddcal. Ho awoke with a rtart to the fact that he w-aa skill, in the main, living with! Amd mov:n,g among people who smacked strong of Blent, who had known him as Tristram of Blent, whose lives had crossed his because h© was Addie Tristraon's son. That w.as true of even his new acquaiTitan.OT, Lady Eveuswood — truer still of Necld, of Southend, aye, of Sloyd and tire Major— ino«t true of his cousin Cecily. This interdependence of its periods is what welds life into a whole; even able and wilful young men have, for; good ?nd .evil, to reckon with it. Otherwise morality would ba in a bad case, and even logic rather at sea. The disadvantage is that the dif- , ficulties in the way of heroic or dramatic conduct are materially ir creased. : Yea, he was riot to escape, not to forget. That day one scene more awaited him which rose' out of Blent and belonged to Blent. The Imp made an appointment by telegram, and the Imp came; . Harry could no longer regard his bac'helor-cb&m-bers a-s any barrier against the incursions of excited young women. Anything that concerned the Tristrams seemed naturally anti-pathetic to conventions- He surrendered and let Mi©a in ; that he wantedto see her — her for want of a better— was not recognked by ham. She was in a great temper, and he was soon inclined to regret his accessibility. Still he endured; for it was asi absolutely final interview, she said. • She had just come to tell him what she thought of him — and there was an end of it. Then slie was going back to M-ex-rion and she hoped Cecily was coming with her. He— Harry — would not be there any-lis-crl . . ■ • '■■■■■'". "Certainly not," he agreed. "But what's the matter, Madame 'Zabriska? You don't complain -that I didm't accept— that I couldn't, fall. in with my" cousin's peculiar idieas?" ' .- . . ........ "Oh, j-ou can't get out. of it like tha-t! You know that isn't the point." "What, in the world is .then?" cried Harry. " There's nothing else the matter, is there?" . ,'■■■■■■ Mini could hardly sit still for rage ; «fhe was on pins. . . <; Nothing else?" She , gathered herself together for the attack. ".What did you take 'her to dinnter and to .the tfoeatre for? What did you bring 'her home for?" " I wanted to be friendly. I wa>nted to soften what I had to say." "To soften it! Not you! -Shall I tell you what you wanted, i>lr /iristram? Sometimes men seem to know so little about themselves!" "If you'll y}iilbfi<>phJße fIP. the. subject of men— aibou-trw-hicb you know ti lot, of course— l'll listen with" pleasure." • " It's the horrible sehishness of the thing Why. didn't you send her away directly? Oh, no, you kept her ; you made yourself pleasant; you made 'her think you l;ked her '•' • "What?" . „ ' ■ "You never thought of anything but yourself all the way through. You were lecturing. her? Oh, no! You were posing and posturing. Being very fine and very heroic ! And then at the end you turned round and— and as good as -Struck her in the face. Oh, I 'hope she'll never speak to you aEain." "Did she send you to say this? : "Of course not." " Yes, of course not ! You're right, then. If it bad happened to be in any way your business — " "Ah!" cried the Imp, triumphantly. "You've no answer, sd you turn round and abuse me! But I don't care. I meant to tell you what I thought of you and I've done it." "A post-card would have done it as we'll," Harry suggested. "But you've gope too far. Oh yes, you have. If you ever change your mind—" 4 *What about? Oh, don't talk nonsense, Madame Zabrlska." "It's not nonsense. ,You behaved even worse than I think if you're not at least half in love with, her." Harry threw a quick glancs at her. " That would, be very unlucky for me," ha remarked. "Very— now," said the Imp, with every appearance of delight. "London will "be dull without you,. Madame Zabriska." " I'm not going to take any more trouble, about you, anyhow." He rose and walked over to her. ( "In the end," he- said more seriously, " what's your complaint against me ?" "You 'made Cecily terribly unihappy." "I couldn't help it. She did an impossible tihang." "After which you made her spend . the eveningjivith you. Even a Trietrain mujst have had a reason for that." " I've told you. I felt friendly acd I wanted her to be friendly. And I liks h<r. The whole thing's a ludicrous trifle." He paused a moment and added, " I'm sorry if she's distressed." ... " You've made everything impossible — that's all." "I don't- understand. It so happens that to-day all sorts of things hive begun to seem possible to me. I^ex'haps you've seen your uncle?" "Yes, I have, and— and it would have been splendid if you hadn't treated her as you did." " You hint at something I know nothing about." He was growing aaigry again. "I really believe I ccoild manage my own affairs." He returned to his pet grievance. "You don't understand? Well, you will soon." She grew cooler as her mischievous pleasure in puzzling him overcame her wrath. " You'll know whaifc you've done soon." ■ . . " Shall I? How shall I find it out?" " You'll be sorry when — when a certain thing happens." He threw himself into a chair with a peevish lauglh. . " I confess your riddles rather bore me. Is there any answer to 'this one?" " Yes, very soon. I've been to see Lady Evenswood." "She laaows the answer, does she?" "Perhaps." Her animation suddenly left her. " But I suppose it's all no use now," she said, dolefully. ' ■ i They sat silent for a minute or two, Harry eeeming to fall into a fit of abstraction. , ".What did you mean by sayijjg,!^

oughtn't to Have taken her to dinner, and so cm?" he asked, aa Mina rose to go. She shook her head. " I've nothing more to say," she declared. " Aocd you say I'm half in love with her?" " Yes, ' I do," she snapped viciously, as she turned towards the door. But she looked back at him before she went out "As far as that goes," he said, slowly, " I'm not sure you're wrong, Madame Zabriska. But I could never marry her." Tho Imp launched a prophecy confidently, triumphantly, maliciously. " Before very long she'll be one' to say that, and you've got yourself to thank for it, top! Good-bye!" She was -gone. Harry sat down and slowly filled: and lib his pipe. It was pTobably all nonsense; but again foe recollected Cecily's words : " If . ever the time comes I shall remember !" Whatever might ba the state of Eis feelings towards, her, or of hers towards him, a satisfactory outcome seemed impossible. And somehow the notion had the effect of spoiling the success of the day for Harry Tristram ; so that amongst the Imp's whirling words there was perhaps a grain or two of wisdom. At least his talk with her did not nuLke Harry's visions less constant or less intense. (To be continued on Monday.)