THE FINDING OF WILLIAM BLOSSOM.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 10536, 10 August 1912, Page 2

THE FINDING OF WILLIAM BLOSSOM.

(By TOM GALLON.) [All Rights Resebved.] For quite a number of years William Blossom had hurried out each morning from his modest lodging, and had made his way. together with thousands of other toilers, into the city; there to sit on a high stool, together with sundry other not too willing captives, and do the office work jof Messrs Coke and Hardwick, general merchants. That was William Blossom's lot, and he never ; complained about it. He was a cheerful little man ; with a rather humorous outlook on life: and he told himself that he was very lucky to have a good berth at all. ana that ne meant to keep it. If sometimes it seemed a little monotonous —well, all work was monotonous after a time; and there was always the fortnight in the summer to look forward to, when one bad a new suit, or perhaps an old one furbished up—to say nothing of fourteen days of real rest. William Blossom's real troubles may be said to have begun on a certain day in spring. He remembered afterwards that it was on a Friday—notoriously unlucky as a day—and he had begun badly, by missing his usual train, and arriving at the office ten minutes late. Mr Coke, the senior partner, who rather prided himself on habits of strict punctuality, was pretty sure to have a word to say about the matter in the course of the day; and Mr Coke had a biting and sarcastio method in dealing with bis clerks.

Sure enough, just before the luncheon interval, William Blossom was summoned to the presence; Mr Coke wished to see hiin at once. One or two kindly hands patted him on the back, and kindly voices gave hiin encouragement; nevertheless, he went in drearily enough. The spring had been in William Blossom's veins a little lately, and he was tired; he had made several blunders in his work, and hints had been dropped that he had better be careful. Perhaps this was the end for William Blossom. Mr Coke sat at one side of his desk, and at the other side was a stranger in black, whose shiny hat was on the desk before him. Mr Hardwick, the junior partner, was standing with his back to the fireplace; all three of them were smiling. Poor William Blossom wondered where exactly the joke came in; he stood just within the door, looking from one to the other.

,4 Good morning, Mr Blossom," said Coke, rising and extending a hand. " Won't you sit down " This, of course, thought William Blossom, must be Mr Coke's subtle wit at the expense? of a poor wretch he was about to discharge. William Blossom shook his head, and said it didn't matter; but Mr Coke came hurriedly round the desk, k.nd grasped him by the hand, and literally forced him into a chair.

" A litt'e pleasant matter of business, Mr Blossom," said Mr Coke. " I venture to predict that you will be very muoh surprised. This gentleman here is a solicitor, who has called to see you in regard to certain estates to which I understand you are entitled." With his head in a whirl, William Blossom listened while, the stranger in black unfolded to him the position of affairs. He remembered perfectly well the ne'er-do-well undo who had gonu out to the colonies years before. And now it seem*"* that undo had flourished on frcsu soil, and had died and had left all he possessed to hi* nephew, William Blossom. This William Blossom had been employed for somo rears by a firm in the City, bearing tho title of Coke and Hardwick. William Blossom remembered afterwards that he shook hands with the three gentlemen, and thit Mr Coke mentioned several times that if he cared to invepi a litt'e money in a certain v.-ell-establi<=lv'd firm of genera! morchants. Mr Coke would be very glad to talk the matter over with him. Perhaps William Blossom would drive out one night to Mr Coke's residence and dine with him. Mrs Coke had always been deeply interested in what she had heard concerning Mr William Blossom. The amazing U/tune amounted to 6fty thousand pounds. With an absolutely incredible sum of money in his pocket, and with the knowledge that he need never mount his office stool again, William Blossom went out into tho streets, and sat down on a seat in a public place, and felt something near to tears. Above all things, ho longed to talk to someone about the wonderful thing that had happened; and there was no one to whom he could talk.

Unfortunately for William Blossom, he began by talking to the wrong person. In the days when he had been a humble clerk in an office, with no earthly prospect of being anything else, he had become acquainted with a family of the name of Scafe. Mr Scafe was a gentlemanly being, who lived chiefly by his wits, and made a poor livelihood out of them; Mrs Scafe complained always of the smallnesa of the little house in the suburbs in which ;he was compelled to live, and dragged in by the heels certain aristocratic re-

lations that had belonged to the past. The family was completed by Miss Scafe and by a son about fourteen. William Blossom had been a very lonely man, and had been glad to drop in occasionally at the house of the Scafes. As a matter of fact, they rather looked down upon him just tolerating him because ho was goodtomporeu. Once he had taken Miss Scafe to a matinee on Saturday afternoon; once, on a fine Sunday evening, ho had met her by chance, and had g?me for a walk with her. No more than that.

But some days after Fortune had enriched him, and after he had had a busy week at the lawyer's offices, and in making arrangements about investments, \\illiam Blossom went, in anew suit of clothes, to see the Scafes. It was a Sunday afternoon, and Miss Scafe was at home, yawning over a book in tho little drawing-room.

Miss Scafe was tall and somewhat thin ; she had a sharp voice and a raspin a laugh. In regard to the latter, William Blossom had noticed more than once that she laughed at the wrong things—things that hurt one to think about. For the rest, she was somewhat riotous in manner and gesture, but was, generally speaking, rather good company. 'Atiss tieate commented on the fact that William Blossom hod on a new suit of clothes and that ho wore a flower in his buttonhole. Going on inrther to mention the office and the City, William Blossom replied that ho had done with the office- and the City for ever and ever.

Tt was on incautious remark ; but then William Blossom had been bubbling over with the wonderful thing that had happened to him for more than a week, and was desperately anxious to tell someone. Gradually Miss Scafe, sitting very upright and round-eyed in her chair, got the whole story out of him.

That evening William Blossom had the place of honour at the Sunday supper table; and as he went out of the house Miss Scafe followed him to the door, and pressed his hand, and said she supposed he'd forget all his old friends now, and she should never see him again. William Blossom murmured something unintelligible, and went away.

It wa3 only when ho reached his lodging.that he remembered that, in a dark corner of the hall, Mr Scafe (who had previously ignored his existence entirely) had drawn him aside and had extracted from him a promise to let him have a cheque for fifty pounds by the. morning; Mr Scafe was being pressed, it appeared, by unscrupulous persons, and was what lie might call "up a tree." It was a strange sensation, when Monday morning came in these wonderful new weeks that were dawning for him, that he had not to swallow his breakfast in a hurry and rush out to catch a train- There was one person in William Blossom's small .vorid who was very concerned about his apparent -.rad sßt{x •?! Suiuaeouoo son was Fanny, the little maid-of-all-idleness, and who spoke to him somework at the house wherein he lodged. If Fanny had had,time to keep herself clean, she might have been distinctly pretty. On the rare occasions on which she got an " evening out," she was distinctly presentable; and then she used to walk about alone, and look at the shop windows, and walk back to her home again; for Fanny was quite alone in London. ".I a'pose you'll get another job one o' these days, Mr Blossom?" Fanny said on this particular morning, as .••he set down his breakfast tray. '"Ere for a w'ole week you 'aven't done what you might call a stroke o' work. 'Ow you expect to get yer livin' beats me." " I'm taking a rest, Fanny," said William Blossom. "One of these 6ne days I expect I shall be able to get to work again—but there's no hurry. My bills will be paid regularly—and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if there wasn't something for Fanny herself the end of each week."

"Not takin' any, thank you," said Fanny, with her head in the air. " First place, I don't believe you've come by it honest—an' second place, you'll want all your money, young man, before you're many months older, you take my tip." William Blossom had finished hie breakfast, and was smoking an unaccustomed cigarette, when Fanny again appeared. "Somebody to see you," she said shortly. " Might be a lady, by the 'at and feathers. But I wouldn't take no long odds on it." Miss Scafe walkea into the room. Miss Scafe was full of apologies for looking up " an old pal " at this hour of the morning, but Miss Scafe was nothing if n't Bohemian. She knew perfectly well that he was an idle man nowadays; and mighn't it be a good idea if they vvent for a trot round, and William Blossom stood lunch somewhere P .

William Blossom pleaded that he had to see his solicitors that morning, and had no time. Miss Scafe lounged about the room for a little while, and smoked cigarettes in a ladylike man ner; finally went away, muttering things under her breath as she reached the street. William Blossom stared for a long time out of the window, and whistled softly to himself, and thought very deeply. At the end of the week William Blossom put a half sovereign in a piece of paper, and ; wrote the one word "Fanny'' outside of it, and left it on the table. Later on, when he returned, he found the paper had been reversed, and his own name written upon it; the half sovereign was still inside. As he put it back into his pocket he remembered that Miss Scafe had called on two different occasions during the week—finding him at home once, and insisting on Dearing him off in a taxi to luncn. Thon it was that William Blossom determined to run away. It had neve.r occurred to him that, as the possessor of a large fortune, he might very well change his abode, and leave those dingy lodgings behind him; he only decided to change now because he was getting frightened. Mr Scafe had written a plausible letter, saying that the unconscionable rogues for whom the fifty pounds had been intended now demanded a hundred at the very least, and that Mr Scafe saw an early prospect of his family in the workhouse, unless the sum was forthcoming. " I'm going away, Fanny," said William Blossom, abruptly. " I've paid rav bill, and I've packed my things, and I'm off." " Shan't see you ever again, I s'pose," said Fanny, scaring out of the window, and keeping her shoulder turned towards him. " Best o' friends must part, I s'pose." William Blossom confided his address only to Fnnny, in order that any letters might be sent on to him. Then, under cover of a particu arly dark evening, ho placed his few possessions on a cab, and set off for his newer and more important lodgings. And there, for about a fortnight, he lived undisturbed.

One evening his landlady pantingly climbed the stairs, and informed him that someone had called to Eee him. "My eyes ain't of the best, but I should say it was a lady—or almost a lady," said the woman

William Blossom's heart eank: for a moment be glanced at the window as if contemplating an immediate exit in that direction. There was no escape, however, and presently he heard steps climbing the stairs, and someono paused outside the door and knocked. Then the door was opened, and there entered—Fanny. " Came to give you a bit of a warniu', Air B o-som," said Fanny, who looked particularly pretty and wholesome and sweet on this evening. "Your friend is on your track again." " But I told you particularly, Fanny, not to let anyone have my address, said William Blossom, reproachfully.

" Silly-like, I stuck it on one of the 'ooks on the kitchen dresser, an' the old woman got 'old of it. Then Miss Scafe camo clown, carryin' on like I don't know what; an' she got the address. Oh, she's a knowin' one, she is!"

" Fanny," said William Blossom,

after a moment or two of deep though \ " I've heard you say that you haven't anyone in the world belonging to vou. That's my case too. Do you think you could n;ana<jo to marry m-?P" " Been fond of you ever Binca I first set eyes on you," said Fanny, with a very becoming blush. "And. even if you are out o' work, I don't suppose it'll last for ever. I'll risk it, at uiy rate."

With a new joy in his heart William Blossom took her in his arms and solemnly kissed her, Ho was sale now. —and ho wo Id tell her abeut the fifty thousand pounds some other time.