CHAPTER III.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9303, 1 August 1908, Page 1

CHAPTER 111.

rBOTOSAI, BY IMPLICATION

Gilbert Dorrison was on the friendliest terms with himself as he paced up and down the deck of the giant Atlantic liner, the Aronia, on a lovely morning in the September following that flying and sensational visit of his to Petherby Manor on the day of Lord Broadstone's marriage.

Everything was going well with him; and while appropriately grateful to Fortune for her smiles, he felt that the main causes of his success were his own cleverness and abilities.

In the matter of his cousin's marriage in particular, he plumed .himself upon his management. He wanted the barony and meant to have it. The marriage, if legal, was quite likely to bar him, of course; while, by an old proviso in the family deeds, the heir to the title received £1000 a year, so long as the holder was unmarried.

But it had suited him not to stop the marriage. He was confident that Lord Broadstone's first wife was living, although for the moment she could not be fonnd; and it was obvious that his cousin could not afford to quarrel with him and stop that £1000 a year with such a 6ocret between them. Indeed, as Broadstone had now command of so much money, he could readily a_fford to pay much more. And at the cne interview they had had since the marriage, it had been his lordship's owa proposal that the income should be continued.

Dorrison. had taken the earliest opportunity, however, of going out to Montana, and he was now returning, more confident of success than ever. Meanwbile, another plum had dropped into his lap on the voyage. One of the most costly suites of state-rooms on the liner was occupied by Mrs Seth P. Porlook, as rich a widow as was to be found in all America, and he had made the running with her at a great pace. On the ship he was a universal favourite, indeed. His adaptability, good humour,, genial laugh, handsome face and ready tongue made friend& with everyone. The men liked his smok/»-room stories and even forgot to be envious when he won the log pool three days in succession ; the . women relished his deck chat and anecdotes about all sorts of people and subjects; and even the children felt they could overrun him and yet be sure of a kind word and a smile.

Altogether, there was ample reason for the bright smile and confident air with which he was enjoying the sunshine, his cigar, and his self-compli-mentary thoughts. "Is that emile for your luck, Mr Dorrison?" He started and looked- up as Mrs Porlock's sweet low voice with its soft southern intonation, broke in upon his reverie. "Or is it because the world is going all your way just now?" "It is enough, to, set me smiling that you axe going my way, Mrs Porlock." , „ "That's a real pretty speech, Mr Dorrison, if you only meant_ it."-- But you Englishmen say nice things to us while our men do them. Still w^ luck's mine in that for yon!ve made the voyage mighty pleasant." "Let me settle you *a your chair." He placed her cushions and arranged her rug, and sat down by her side. "If I haven't ehown that I meant it, it's no good my repeating it." " 'Cept for a little exaggeration in the words, I think we've both had a good time. I did dread the voyage, and that's tho truth; but the weather and you 'have made it just lovely, and I'm sorry it's so nearly over. "We'll be in by "this time to-morrow, they tell me, and all of us away in different directions."

" Scarcely different. You are going to London?" "That's so. But London isn't the Aronia's promenade deck quite." "Still friends can meet there." She had picked up her novel and was turning the pages; but she let it fall on her lap, and looked at him for a pause. " I guess I hope so/ ah© said with a smile. ".Where are you going to stay?" Her smile broadened into a laugh. " Seems to me if I told you you might forget." . . {'You mean something by that. Of course I shouldn't forget." " Sort of proud of your memory, are v you? But what about that book, of speeches you promised meP" "It's" up against me," ho laughed. " But I didn't suppose you really cared to read a lot of dull Tot like that." " I don't . hear . you talk any ' ' dull rot. 1 If they were good enough for you to make, I reckon they'll be good enough for me to read." This drew one of his cheeriest smiles, "I'll go and get it now.'' " I'll keep your chair," she laughed as he hurried off. " He's a real pleasant fellow, but " The rest of the thought was left unspoken; and she lay back thinking. She was very handsome. Tall and with the characteristically upright carriage of the American woman, her finely developed and well-proportioned figure would havo attracted attention in any crowd. But tihe most striking thing about her was her hair — it was almost white, although her smooth unwrinkled skin and clear complexion were those of a woman in the twenties.

To all she appeared the very type of one of those favoured women on whom the breath of trouble had never blown, and whose course in life had been just one peaceful, care-free, pamparedj leisurely saunter. But the world made a big blunder. Sadie, or Mrs Seth P. Porlock, as she. was riow.\ had drained the cup of suffering and privation to the. dregs, and had found the draught very bitter. But she had her own strong reason for not setting, people right in their reckoning. Six years had made as much change in her fortunes as in her looks and her nature. - When her husband had slunk out of that Helena shanty leaving her for dead, she had been little more than a slight slip of a girl of twenty, worn out by hard work, weakened by anxiety and emaciated by illness. In her weakness the treachery of the man she had love<i and sought to win back to a decent life had nearly killed her. In his nervousness his dirink-befud-dled wits had mistaken an "unopened bottle of lotion few the poison, and when she came to herself she found the poison, and understood everything. For a month and more she lay close to death's door, but then she had learnt that which made her once more keen to live.

As soon as she was well enough to travel, she left Helena, telling no one her destination. She would not go to her father — never forgiving him for his former conduct — but travelled down to Mexico to her mother's brother, Seth P. Porlock, a crusty bachelor who had quarrelled, with every relative he had m the world.

To him she told her story, and he befriended her. In his house her child was born, and she and her babe so won ligoa him, tltat ha xpuld not lot them

leave him. She left her own people to believe her dead, and took her mother's name, and when the old man diectj he left her every stick and stone of his enormous fortune. Trouble Jhad bleached her once golden hair, but after the birth of her child hor figure had developed, and her wrm.iles disappeared in the ease and comfort of the millionaire's house. Her appearance was changed almost beyond recognition. For six months after the death of Seth Porlock Bhe stayed fin Mexico to realise her many possessions — doing it all with the natural shrewdness which the old man had carefully nurtured— and then had resolved to see life in the American cities.

The knowledge of her wealth added to hor own. personal charms brought her many proposals of marriage ; arid this decided her to settle the question whether she Was wife or widow, to institute a search for her husband, Bert Hunter, and eventually to come to England herself to direct it. Chi the Aronia'a passeciger list the name of Dbrrison recalled 'to her that aho had once heard her "husband speak of some relative of the same name;. and it was this slight fact which had induced her to encourage Gilbert Dorrison's very ready advances.

Her keen wit enabled her to read him easily ; and when she "heard that Dorrison was the family name of Lord Broadstone, she saw at once there was little or no hope of getting any clue to her husband's whereabouts. To associate, such a drunken, dissolute shack a 6 Bert Hunter with an English peer was obviously ridiculous. But Gilbert Dorrison had proved a very entertaining ship companion, and, despite her belief that he was paying court to her money, he had won upon her good feeling so far thai she felt she would like to know more of him.

She wanted to know something of v7hat the man himself was underneath the sui'face of handsome looks and courtly geniality, however.

She gave him a smile when ha returned with the book and thankedhim. "And now leave me alone for an hour while I Eec what you are like in print; and then I'll tell you whether I wish to keep it longer." "feather rough, isn't it, to 6end me away as a reward for bringing it?" he laughed. "You won't be jealous of your own speeches, surely! I shall be studying you all the time. Don't forget that." "It will be a long hour," he rejoined as he turned away with a rueful shrug of the. shoulders. It was a volume of newspapfcr cut--tings 5 reports of speeches chiefly, with a few personal paragraphs about the M.P. The speeches she skimmed, the paragraphs she read, turning the pages idly; and then suddenly she came upon a paper lying loose; and a glance at the Erst Line drew an exclamation of surprise and interest.

"My dearest Gilbert, — Yes, dearest, although you tell me you have cast me oil for ever and will never return to England to make me your wife 1 God forgive me for having trusted to your hbnour, and you, for the wrong you have done me." .'

; She had read so far in a single #la>c4, nojted the addrcss-^3OO, ;Rekfch lio^l,, Gardafe— and.rin - patting the letter back in rae, book she saw the wi'itten name—^ Gladys Llewellyn." At that moment she caught sight of Dorrison returning,: and in a flash resolved to test him and see hovr he would act when he knew she had seen the letter. She let the. book lie open upon her lap with the letter in 'full view. . .

"Is the hour up already?" she asked, smiling sweetly. . " You see how interested I must have been. I thought it was only a few minutes. Some of your speeches are brilliant."

He glanced at the book and started very sfightly as he saw the letter: but she noticed b ( oth the glance and the start

"I am glad you would even read one," he replied. "I find no difficulty in speaking, luckily." "There is something here that is not a speech. Was this left for me to see? I read half a dozen lines." And she Sicked up tho letter. "-.Who is — ladys,?"

The moment was long enough to enable him to answer with complete selfpossession. "With a very serious air he said: "No, that was not for you to see, of course. I ought not to have been so careless as to leave it there. It is the one real trouble I have at present. lam going to see what I can do in the matter. My man, Gardiner, has been a scoundrel, I fear. I learnt of this when on your side recently; but I am resolved that justice shall be done." " He seems to have taken your name, too."

"It is his also, by an unfortunate coincidence."

She shrugged her shoulders with intentional indifference: "Men will be men. Poor girl." "They need not be scoundrels, Mrs Porlock. But she shall be righted." "I am glad to think you are so ohivalrous. And. now shall we say no more about it?" she said f with a sigh.

" I am sorry the thing has been brought to your knowledge. I have promised him that strict secrecy shall be observed if he does the right thing."

"Why, of course. For the girl's sako whoever she is, I would be as silent as a mute. Hello — there's the first luncheon bugle. For a- quarter of an hour you can give me the surroundings of some of these speeches." "You ar& quite niggardly with your time this morning," he said, with a glance of reproach and a light laugh, as self-poeseesed as though the affair of Gladys Llewellyn had not eveu beeu mentioned.

Had he told her tho truth? That was the thought in her mind ac he took the book of cuttings and made it the pretext for a very interesting sketch of English political life. So interesting, indeed, that the full . half hour slipped away and the second bugie sounded

They were not alone again until after dinner. The night was warm, the eea very calm, and the moon at the full — an entrancing night for the last of the voyage; and Sadie was leaning on the bulwarks gazing at the brilliant ladder of the moon on the waves whe.n Dorrifion joined her.

" Your face is eet toward the light. That is always your way, I know," lie paid. "I was just letting my thoughts tangle themselves. Wondering, as I suppose everyone does wheji' approaching a new country, what itTlias in store for me." , m r n " Happiness, of course; for you carry that with you," he answered, gently. "Heaps of friends,- too; you havo the magnetism that attracts. And you may