THE STORYTELLER.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 10500, 29 June 1912, Page 2

THE STORYTELLER.

'. THE PEPPER AND MRS WJAYMESTEIGH. (By EDWARD BOLTWOOD.) CHAPTEB I.

Aoroas the rumpled and crookedly laid cloth of his breakfast table, young Mr, Casper Herrington bestowed an 1 angry ginnce upon the scornful waitress. . :„, '" \ " Poached eggs like leather again! 'He' mumbled. " Ellen yawned languidly, and attempted to button a buttonless cuff. vr "T)id you pass a remark to me, ■ ■ sir?" sh© inquired. " I didn't ccok no " "Mrs Herrington shall. speak to •.Maggie about this," said Casper, ; lniowing well that he lied. '" Th» waitress know -it, too. She ', swung the pantry door by means of a ' plainly contemptuous elbow; and Her- ■' riri'gton rolled up his napkin and .' shoved it through a tarnished ring >''TicioUalv,as if he wished Ellen were £ inside of it. >' f * .The clock on the mantel chime.d the " 'naif-hour with a. sort of derisive com- , '"-placoncy. Casper jumped up; he would - v havt» to hurry in oruer to catch the teTen. thirty-seven. ••',tlii the disordered hall he frowned : tipstairs at the closed door of his wife's bedroom. After only a year of married life, the Herringtons had reached the individual breakfast stage; and last uight Frieda, for purely' mental '. •■'Yeasons, had dined in a dressing-sack •'por'the eleventh time during the month. "Herrington was still scowling when he •eated himself in the commuters' car ,-''it the suburban station.

the individual breakfast stage; and last uight Frieda, for purely' mental '. ■'Yeasons, had dined in a dressing-sack •'por'the eleventh time during the month. "Herrington was still scowling when he Seated himself in the commuters' car ,-''it the suburban station. >,v t*Q' morning," curtly said a man »,-ln'the next wicker chair; and then, ~ his back at once On Casper, •\h* launched a discussion with' his'neigh- ■ hoars about mashie shots. 1 ' .'Behind a newspaper, .Herrington : moodily.' He was fond of golf, ' > -»nd so was Frieda, but they had not ■loined the country club at Whitesand. iWhen he proposed it to her she. had .'tilted her pretty chin 2 and replied that 'ifhe would rather- wait Until she knew

the Whitesand pepplc better. But she knew them no better now than six

* p months ago; her "calls" had ( nerer , ; ' been mado; and men on the Whitesand . -dar to and from Now York seldom ■ ;8?ok« to Herrington. He was a quiet, * i-aetaehed fellow, with a painfully som- ■* bra k taste, in neckwear. ', ** 'The- stenographers became rigidly - -ftlent that morning when Casper ap- ;'. .-pea-red in the large law office of which ' 'fie was'the managing clerk. From one V,'4fcithe private rooms, however, issued "•' (mighty sounds of laughter. Herring-V-,"tott .bib his prim lip. It was Fenn's >' '^ooin—Billy Fenn, Casper's classmate '■ "»t the law school- The two had. enter--.\'«d, as clerks, tho office of Phillips, •;'iVmnd Billy, always mucli less of a lawyer Herrington, was now a special --; .^partner. ;'. »-\The laughter ceased. The head or rfi'ihefirm came out of Fenn's room, and I ■ 4 »oddect coldly to Herrington. The '•Vjnanagmg clerk sighed. He was not *' guite discontented, but he was sullenly \: -.did not know exactly what. Fenn, in*Jf idsed, had once attempted to toll him. Fenn had said, "what '**■ jwu -.need is a stick of dynamite—an h/jtilarjn clock—a pound or two of pep-£;vV-.Gasper, fluttering the leaves of hie i*a' (Jrell+bept office calendar, remembered „y! -.ghat.-this vague and vulgar advice had $->•' J»en> given to him on the occasion, Billy had spoken of meeting Ethel jV.'.iTalham, a vivacious school-friend of }'*■ Frieda. Frieda! Herrington shut ft'£'the*.caleudar-book with a ' bang and f/fVfeased hackward in his swiveT-chair. j*-4 .Frieda! What was the trouble with ?','■ ;frieda? What was the trouble in the £"<fottage at Whitesand? A/'.'ii'.-H'e pretended to be 6orting .docu;?*',.laaiits on his desk while he reflected if/] gloomily. Frieda loved him. It was t'tirj*' mathematical certainty that she was on the same scale of modest t as before their marriage. She I -£*raa not bound by necessity to abstain I the country club, nor to speiid her *' /jittjne in lackadaisical seclusion, reading novels, Herrington stared ,"f' Vt bis stenographer's trim waist, think--V'ing,--,bitterly of the dressing-sack"; j jj?;. Miss Carter blushed, and ff J the' managing clerk, with a start, open-1 * 'i.«4 the calendar-book again. tt fa?}At twelve o'clock an office-boy apHorriuston's desk. &•.(>?:'Lady to see you in the front j jt-'Johby," drawled tne boy. "Mrs Her-: jT'j'jineton, sir." My ■ wife?" exclaimed Casper ' and he went to tho waitingSft.''roomy "Frieda!" be gasped. "What the world has happened?" £ r 'J : .." CHAPTER 11. _ j j^* 1 , .Hia curiosity was justified- Frieda's 1 f; ■•yw sparkled with gay excitement, her ij'v <enarming face beamed, and her slender ' ■"'■; . fignre was exquisite in a fashionable ~i"-.gown, which Herrington had not re- #, pently seen. V \'--"" i as happened?" hb repeated. Js* ' laughed Frieda, handing &y. f bim a square sheet of heavy notepaper. r& '.,',',Casfaer read the letter aloud: ih ■ 4.!' Sweets Little Bride,—My doctor S''' : haa f recommonded to me to buy a resim. iieiico at Whitesand. .Immediately I pi'tjbpugbt of you, and of the darling ||,'";(rctle nest which,you said was waiting for,you after vour honeymoon. bo' in .Whitesand next Saturfrom Newport, to select a place house. Will you not let me come for tho week-end? I know you jCiJWrr' cherie, and I am, with , every ; ifcltae; Christabel Mnynesteigh." u- asked Herrington. E«V''.For'goodness'' sake, dearl" cried p-'JJrieaa'. n ' Don't say that you've for"Mrs Maynesteigh, on the OlymM?s.justipa assented nervously, with a f||o/liirtinct recollection of that formidable p'/tflpial empress, and her courier-maid. ■Mf'.iWs lady's-maid, and her brief ll&sffeßamship acquaintance with his wife. just posted my letter," said Kflrt'edrf: B-j&f.' What letter P" ®M|s,'.Jßefeging Mrs Maynesteigh to come §SM$ W My gracious!" p|-',£s"y«s, Casper, I know. We'll have &fpjj£«j6' to do to be ready for her. We've BwtWfo. to ,have a smaU house-party, and SfSteV.a dinner." blurted Herrington. snapped the letter in her jKwnglfng wrist-bag with unwonted p;%erc:r.., must invite a splendid man. house-partv," she said, "and SSj'.fnree. nearly splendid men for the dinSsVifr' "I'll leave that to you. To-day's P>nty of time." If. ; Mr f/ Bat-wait!" implored Casper |»Wfrikly. "We've never given such a :'-|-.- dinfler! Mrs Maynesteigh—why, there's 'o* '•.''.colitmn of society news a week about r|; for And Ellen', and Maggie, and If tey,re both Frieda W to "rheumatics" fe positively contradicts the old fe ' tfi'ot- Rheumatism cannot be cured. It po Eas- J 'ißticceeded in effecting permanent relief ibundreds of other alleged cures have Fi„ tifbAif .XAmmenta, plasters and embrocations l£s tsmporary relief at bost for Rheti- *«" tfs|iismj Gout, Sciatica or Lumbago is M, Jatfa'pa .by th« presence of urio acid in the $$ Wf!o<J. This must be eliminated from tho wls\ WBWJii before a complete cure can be effectWL Z , ML'*". HiSETJMO neutralises and expels this Pt.''iht3c\.aeict ) and consequently, immediately it slit' Sfe'ifr&en, th« pains cease. Mr W. Jamis, ffif',fcoiprietor Terminus Hotel, Christchurch, Wjs his experience:— pfrj"".' t*" I BoSered very greatly from Rheumatic f; u p fidtlt-: f*r quite fourteen years, and tried alH& ttjiirt every remedy euggested by my friends practitioners, but with very I&R.'ljfttle relief- About three years ago I was P^'Srongly,advised to try RHLUMO. I did so, with the greatest satisfaction. I have Twmjro now ana men, but a dosa or of RHEUStO puts mo right at oi:ce." I^g^ili 1 . chsssi-t= .".id 6d and 4f 6d » bottle. ' : 4

SHORT AMD SERIAL

interrupted, smiling. "I did it tins morning." " You never dared!"

"Ten minutes later the mail-carrier brought me the note.. That's the reason I'm in town—employment agencies. By tho way, we'll have to be members of the country club before SaturdayNo, you can't take me to lunch. I'm going to Ethel Talham's— haven't seen her for ages. Gocd-bye, dear!" She slammed the door briskly behind her Herrington,, rather dazed, went back to his desk, tore off a slip from his memorandum pad, and wrote down a list •of possible guests. Then he recalled that he had no decent wines in his cottage, and that the drawingroom rug was a failure; and while ho was about it, that he might as well buy that fireplace set. Various plans interested him. He tore off another slip, wondering how much it would cost to hire a motor-car for three days at the Whitesand garage. On the train that afternoon ho ventured to consult old Major Tulse about clarets. The surprised Major, to whom Herrington had spoken only once before, .rubbed his mottled nos<i affablv and offered Casper a cigar. Wnen they arrived at Whitesand Tulso proposed a cocktail at the country club. Herrington, who hated cocktails, accepted immediately; but the reflection that he was to b© the ho?t of such an august celebrity as Mrs Maynesteigh had already intoxicated him. -The men in the club smoking-room discovered that they had completely misjudged Herrington. Ho was-talka-tive, sociable-i-not in the-least a prig, after all. Casper astonished and pleased himself far more than ho did the others. The unambitious managing clerk was flabbergasted, after twenty minutes, to find that he was apparently on fraternal terms with a Judge of the State Supreme Court. " Of course, Herrington," said tho club secretary, in reply to Casper's parting request. "Delighted to put through your names!" Herrington paused on his piazza to note that flower-box-es must be arranged, if there was time; and Frieda suddenly presented herself. Her sleeves were rolled to her dimpled elbows.

"I'm the chef!" she iannounced. u Both of those dreadful women got mad and left, and Cecile and Julia and Marie won't be here until to-morrow. You've, never tried my cooking. It's prettv bad!" . " Well, Frieda, I'll be—-" '' Not quite starved," she finished gaily. 'Mrs Blake sent over a salad. The'Dixons offered me a maid, but I declined."

" Blake? Dixons?" said Herrington. "I didn't know that you—you'd met them." "I've been calling, Casper. You see, after ±M>s Maynesteigh .comes—there, dear, you needn't kiss your cook in public!" ; CHAPTER 'lit'\ ' The intimate little dinner and breakfast were revelations in enjoyment. When Herrington' returned from the oity on Wednesday afternoon, he was almost glad to find that the new servants had not arrived,; and even Frieda, although apprehensive of the Maynesteigh visit, seemed to be highly contented at the prospect of a second evening to themselves. • Mrs Dixon's housemaid had helped her through the day. "I've ordered the rug," said Casper, " but the brass fire-set—well, it will be too expensive for ns now, along with those other things." His wife looked up from the chafingdish rather queerly. "I wish—wish I'd known," she stammered* " That guesWpom furniture of ours is weird, Casper; and I was passing M'Cu.-dy's store to-day, and—and they had——" "Obi a *l right!" said he, with a fair imitation of a smile, under the circumstances. " You're angry!" declared Frieda, stirring vigorously. "No, I'm not!" >He was, in fact, very angfy, not at Frieda, but at himself, because he had never :before appreciated an'inability to provide what she wished. ' For the sake of his composure, "it was necessary to.change the subject. "I couldn't land a blessed man on the list," he observed, ".so I nailed Billy Fenn." "Casper! For the house-party?" "Yes. Heaven, Frieda, have you gone crazy?" .His wife was glaring at him with the wide, wild eyas of absolute dementia. "I should say I had gone crazy!" she burst out. "I've already invited Ethel Ilalham—and sho's accepted—and that, awful uncle of hers has forbidden Ethel ever to speak to William Fenn again 1" ' : "Why?" " Because he's afraid Mr Fenn wants to marry her." " Well, I can recall Billy's invitation."

"You can't. Wliat reason can you give? Nobody "is supposed to know a solitary thing about the mess. This is terrible!" " Not so very. Besides, they're bound to get married, if they want to. Miss Talham is of age." "Ethel Talham told me," sighed Frieda, "that Mr Fenn has not seen her for nearly a fortnight." "Where's his pluck?" retorted Herrington. " Perhaps the great Maynesteigh house-party will give him some. What Fenn wants is—is an alarm clock " ; and Casper smiled abruptly. "You needn't laugh," Frieda protested. " What shall wo do?"

It was'decided to do nothing. _ Clearly; they could not cancel the invitations without divulging the fact that Mrs Herrington had betrayed her friend's confidence. The domestic staff was still missing on Thursday, and they dined at the country club, where there were so many genial people that Frieda almost forgot to tremble about her servants. But in the office,, on Friday forenoon, Casper was summoned to the telephone, and over the wire came Frieda's voice, tense and panic-stricken. " I'm at the employment agency, she wailed. '.'l can't have those terrible girls unless we pay them thirteen dollars more a month." "Pay it, then!" said Herrington, ,as steadily as possible. "Yo\i know, dear,'' added Frieda, "that after' Mrs Maynestoigh's visit we can go back to tho Maggie and Ellen kind, and " Somebody cut off the connection, which was fortunate, because Herrington's jaw, for the first time in its existence, was .set fiercely. He marched away from tho tablo with a desperate and militant air. So might Napoleon have scowled when he deterir"'ned. to send in his guards at Waterloo.' The head of tho firm, old Mr Phillips, was favourably impressed by Casper's . resolute manner, when Herrington closed the door of the private room. The young man, in fact, had never ap- < peared so well as ho did while making' his brief, forcible plea for advancement in the office. Two considerations nerved Herrington. One was that Frieda needed money; the other was that he had been slapped on the back by a Justice of tho Supreme Court. Mr Phillips wiped his eye-glasses. " Why, I guess you're entitled to promotion, Herrington," said he. " Of course, in business, according to my opinion, a man isn't entitled to what he doesn't ask for—to what he doesn't show he wants. You've never suggested such e desire before. I'm glad you have, finally. It shows energy—pepper —ambition." He smiled cordially. " A special partnership mieht be ar- | ranged, perhaps," he concluded. j CHAPTER TV. \ The wti.fl!2;e was transtigured. Flower ' boxes glorified the niazza: in the draw-

ing-room, a Shiraz rug and wonderful fire-brasses accomplished {esthetic marvels. Perfectly trained maids glided to and fro like cheerful ghosts. The motor-car, hired from the garage, had just come to the station to meet Miss TaJham and Mr Fenn; and Casper; having sampled the superlative claret at the luncheon, had decided to buy a Speedaway runabout for Frieda. They went to the piazza to await their quests. ' . " The upstairs rooms are fine," said Herrington. "You're a splendid housekeeper! If Mrs Maynesteigh could appreciate all you're done for her, she'd think you are as much of an ansel'as I do!" ' . '. Frieda,- somewhat soberly, picked a geranium leaf to pieces. "An anjrel?" she rejoined. "I've been a wretch, Casper. I might have done all this before —com© out of my filly shell. I mean, and everything. Well, it's permanent now. But I_ wish --wish we'd been made to imagine a visit from Mrs Maynesteigh long ago!' " Nonsense, Frieda ! Do you fancy that if she wasn't actually coming we could. ever-4iello, hero are Miss Talham and Billy!" , T As the automobile swung into the driveway, Frieda, with a recent bride's uncanny omniscience, about certain matters, piercingly gazed at the pair in the tonneau. "I believe they've settled it already!" she murmured blissfully. "I do believe they've settled it!" She whisked' Ethel, who was, indeed, oddly flushed and confused, to the upper Coor. Mr Fenn, in Casper's tinv smoking-room, tried to roll a cigarette with excessively tremulous fingers. "Sick?" queried Casper, grinning. 'Not bv a blamod sight!" denied Billy. '"'Never felt so illustrious in my born days!" He blinked, with imbecile ecstasy, into the tobacco-jar. " Herrie, this house-party is a perfectly good scheme. Saved mv life, understand. I didn't know that she—that Htlvel—that Miss—that she was to be here. And, Herrie. when I saw her, it wa3 like a stick of dvnamite, or an alarm-clock, or a pound or two_ of—hang it, what's tho.use of keeping a secret from you married folks?" They gripped hands in silence. The door-bell buzzed.

" Must be the chauffeur." said Herrington. "Well, it's not time to go after her imperial highness yet, thank goodness!" The bell, however, hod been rung, not by the chauffeur, but by the special delivery messenger from the post office. Casper signed the book for a letter and a small package, both addressed to Frieda. He tossed the letter to the stair-landing, where his wife and Miss Tnlhani leaned over th© balusters. Frieda tore the envelope. "Oh, listen!" she cried. "My Dear Mrs Herrington,—l find that it was the mountain air of Whiteland, New Tersey, and not the seashore of Whitesand, Long Island._ which my doctor advised for mo. Will you forgive me.if, at this short notice, T abandon my visit to you? I am mailing, to you a ilight token of my remembrance. —Yours sincerely, C. Maynesteie;h." Casper, with a whoop of inhospitable ;joy, ripped open the package. The b° x contained a pair of silver peppercasters.