CHAPTER V.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8831, 18 January 1907, Page 4

CHAPTER V.

WheT. Maynadier knocked at ' her brotiiidi'w «door she got no response ; I so, turning the knob, she entered. Reid was sitting by the window, his elbows on the ledge, hie head in his hands, staring blankly out into the twilight. She glided softly across the room, and put one hand on his shoulder. "Reid!" He turned and looked at her, his face grey and haggard. • | "Hugh is worse, dear. The doctor came again this afternoon. He couldn't do much. He says the operation is the only thing." ! Reid's hands fell limply by his sides. "Edith! go away, please; please go away," he said dully. "I've got to tell you. Reid, why do you refuse this good fortune that has come? We could send Hugh to Berlin ; then, or have the doctor come here. ' And he would get well I" j "He would get well," echoed her ] brother colourlessly. "He would get well. Yes, Hugh would get well. But I shall never get well. I m side, and 1 j shall never, never get well." His tone was quite expressionless; and he seemed to be talking to himself. The girl was alarmed. " Reid, don't do that. Listen to me I With that money we could save little Hugh. And you're throwing away his life ; throwing it away for a girl who isn't worth it. Reid, don't you think I know? She isn't worth it. She isn't worth it!" l "No, she isn't worth it," he agreed, in the same dull tone. " But slie's worth everything to me- — and I'll never have the everything." He suddenly sat straight in his chair. "Edith!" "Yes. dear." ' He clawed one shoulder with his heavy, supple hand ; and the girl could have cried out in pain. "I— l see. I— see, Edith. Hugh would get well ; and you would have your pretty things— you would have your pretty things, and Tommy would have hers — and I would have a pretty, baby-faced little wife — and all that money — which I don't want — and we'd all be very happy — happy ! Yes" — he laughed harshly — " we'd all be very happy — and so I'm going to do it. I'm going to my dear aunt's for dinner to-night, and I'm going to tell my dear cousin that I will buy her at the price of my two million five hundred thousand." He pushed his 6ister away from him and rose to his feet. "And we'll be very happy," he echoed again, with a laugh that had no mirth in it. " So go away, Edith, while I get ready to dine at my dear cousin's — go away!" The girl, her heart beating rapidly, her face flushed, hurried from the room. Her triumph was complete. Reid lighted the gas and changed his iinen. He had never had enough money to purchase a suit of evening clothes; and, even if he had, it would have been unnecessary, for he did not go to places where he needed them. He tied a black scarf with scrupulous care, and replaced his black coat and waistcoat, after brushing them. Then he left the house noiselessly, and took a Fulton Avenue car, which landed him at Preston and Cathedral Streets. His aunt still maintained her residence in the old Maynadier house near-by, . although the place was thrice mortgaged, and was no longer hers. He ascended the front steps, and rang. A maid answered. "Tell Mrs Fairfax that Mr Reid Maynadier is here," he instructed her. The maid showed him into the recep-tion-room, where the gas burned low, revealing handsome old furniture, badly in need of upholstering, and old paintings as much in need of retouching. He waited for some time before a figure obscured the doorway, and a woman in a 'blue gown approached him. He was glad to note that the gown was cut high. He would have felt out of place if it had been low. . " And you are my nephew the lady asked with pleasant condescension. She seemed to have the complexion of a schoolgirl. There was not a wrinkle; nor was there a crow 8-foot. Her cheeks were healthily pink; her hair was dressed in a low coiffure. She did not appear to Reid to be much over his own age; but those who knew the secret of enamel might have been dubious of what was under that pink-and-white skin. ! „.„., " And so you are my aunt? Reid replied, in a tone hardly amiable. He had not come to make friends with his relative. '' His purpose was to bind a bargain. The two stared at one another. "Come here," she said, at length. <' I want you to see something. Come! She led the way down the hall, ascended several steps, and threw open the door of the dining-room. The table was laid for dinner. She turned up the gas, and pointed to an oil-painting, apparently a picture of Reid himself, in the garb of those who lived in the early days of the nineteenth century. "Thank Heaven you are a Maynadier!" she said. "I was afraid " "I am also a Jarrett," answered Reid, with malicious pleasure. Somehow an evil side of him, which no one had suspected, was being shown this night— it seemed that a devil spoke for ""That will be forgotten," said Mrs Fairfax. . She led the way back to the stairway. " Come up to the library, ' ehe said. " Dinner isn't served until seventhirty. I don't know what can be keeping Alice. I haven't seen her since the Bartons' tea this afternoon— the Stuart Bartons," she explained for her uninitiated nephew. Reid made no answer. In tne iittJe library, Mrs Fairfax picked up a tin of ciragettes and held them out to Reid. She took one herself, and lighted it, pushing the match-box toward him. "This fortune changes everything, ehe said comprehensively, waving the cigarette. „ , " I see it does," was Reid's response. "Of course, you understand that your mother was my own maid ; that it "was impossible for me to recognise her j> "Mrs Fairfax" — somehow he was unable to call her " aunt "—"you did what you thought was right, what people in your circle approve. But my mother is dea<i. She was a good mother to me. There's nothing else to be eaid about her." He spoke firmly. His aunt stole a glance at him. The worst fear had passed. Her nephew was more than presentable. He was a personable young man, with very good manners and a decided character. No matter what he had been.. Mrs Fairfax would have seen that her daughter married him; for the money meant everything to her. She could, go along' unaided just a month or so longer— then : Heaven only knew what! She came straight to the point. " Have, you seen Alice? — not .met her I know you haven't met her— but have tou ever seen, her?" "Yes." Then ho added: "She is a pretty girl." . "Yes, she is, allowed her mother indulgently. " A dear little thing, and so obedient— why, she's never given me a moment's trouble — -" » He checked her recital with a hand upraised. ' ' Doe 6 ehe care for anyone or does she think she does?" Alice's mother forced an amused smile "Why, of eouree not; she's nothing but a child-—" Again Reid broke in: "You know the conditions of «v» will. If she is

willing to m&rry me, and I do not take advantage of the fact, I am to lose the money. Now the question is: Is she willing to marry m«?" Mrs Fairfax yawned. The question was stupid. " She is," was her dry response. "And youP" Reid's face was strangely contorted. " There are reasons why I cannot refufie the fortune," he replied. ""That means," said the woman, " that you will ask my daughter to be your wife?" " It mean 6 that 1 will have a talk with her on that subject," responded Reid. " But she may care for someone eke." " I told you " "I know," responded her undutiful nephew, "but I do not care to have your influence used in the matter, Mrs Fairfax. You understand?" Aunt and nephew faced one another ; then the woman laughed. "A true Maynadier you are, for a fact." She glanced over at the clock on the mantel, noting the time. It was while she looked that the bell rang. " That must be Alice," 6he commented. They waited in silence. From the stairs came the sound of a man's tread. Mrs Fairfax, somewhat surprised, arose and started toward the door; but not before a huge young man blocked her farther progress by entering. He held by tihe wrist a very pretty, fluffy girl, who wa6 trying to hide her face in her muff, and who tugged to be let kose. "Come on, Ally," adjured the huge young man. " Nobody's going to hurt you." And with a sudden tug hejpulled the girl into the room after him. Her face was now altogether hidden by the muff, and she seemed to be sobbing quietly. • The huge young man. erailed upon Mrs Fairfax in great good humour. He was several inches over six feet, proportionately broad, and had merry, twinkling blue eyes. Mrs Fairfax's face had frozen into immobility. "Mr Burnside," she said. "I have told you your presence was not welcome in ray house; I have told you several times. Now you will either goor I will have the coachman put you out." Young Burnside grinned cheerfully. " Can't !" he eaid. "You fired the coachman two weeks ago. Could lick him with one hand, anyhow." "Mr Maynadier— Reid!" Mrs Fairfax turned to her nephew. "I am aj woman. I cannot use physical force. This man " The huge young fellow seemed better "Hello!" he said. "So you're Reid Maynadier. Lucky you're here. Was hoping you were. Ally, too :" "Alice!" broke in her mother, her anger now apparent in the shrillness of her tone, " how dare you bring this man here— after my orders— how dare you?" "Now, look here, Mrs Fairfax," protested young Burnside, "you stop bullying Alice. I made her do what she did? and that's all there was to it. I love Alice, and what's more, she loves me ; and I've got over two thousand ■dollars a year, and that's enough for her and me, and " "Go; leave this room — " began the mother. " Now, you've just got to listen, continued the young giant. " I wasn't going to have Alice sacrificed, just so you could have a lot of money from Mr Maynadier here; and I guess he wasn't so keen to marry a girl he'd never seen ; and so we figured out wo weren't harming anybody, and Alice didn't want the old money,;, anyhow. So I stood this for as long as I could — until I found you had bullied Alice into ©oneenting to marry Mr Maynadier — and heard he was coming to-night — and before she could promise him I just made her come out and marry me — and so we're married, and that' 6 all there is to it." He paused. "Show 'em your ring, Ally." Still hiding her face in her muff,, Alice thrust out an ungloved hand, on one slim finger of which was a large gold band. " And here' 6 the wedding-certificate, and— hello, there! crab her, you!" Mrs Fairfax, with one shrill scream, had fainted. Reid caught her in his arms and laid her on^the sofa. " Run, get some brandy, somebody," he ordered. And little Alice hurried off. Reid released Mrs Fairfax and faced Burnside, thrusting out his hand. " I'll settle five hundred thousand dollars on your wife to-morrow," he said. "It wasn't a fair will. And as much more in trust for my — for Mrs Fairfax. You look after her, will you?" "I say," protested Burnside, "you mustn't " , "It was an unfair will — unfair to both of us. The money is as much theirs as mine. Good night." ''You're all right," said. Burnside, as they clasped hands.