“PAM'S CHRISTMAS GIFT.”

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17223, 14 December 1923, Page 32 (Supplement)

“PAM'S CHRISTMAS GIFT.”

Bv RUTH TEMPLETON. (All Rights Reserved.) Samuel 'Wharton was possessed of an excellent memory, but there were two things he did his best to forget. One," that he had been a mill-hand in the nourishing mill of which he was now the owner ; the other, that he had married the daughter of respectable, but wotking-ciass people—pretty, common Teas Oliver, who had found life in a cottage far easier than as mistress of Mill House. But Pam was different, a fact upon J which her father was never tired of reflecting. “ No one 'nil think she wasn’t a lady bred and born.” ho muttered the words delightedly to himself, as lie sat in the large book-lined room at Mill House ! dignified by the term “ library." wateli- ! mg Pam bring the small two-seater I -ar to a halt outside the windowj Her sweet, oval face showed like a | flower above the soft fur collar of her I coat, a cap of the same becoming fur pulled close over her wavy, gold-tinted I hair. Tinv flakes of snow rested cn | the top of her cap and shoulders, the i sharp nip in the air bringing a ro.se- ! pink flush to her cheeks. Parcels filling her arms, she passed | into the library, almost childish es- ! citenient in her eyes. j “It's going to bo a real, old-fashion- | ed Christinas, this year. Daddikins,” ! «he said merrily, “and I J ve brought such heaps of things.” “ I’ll lay you’ve forgotten nobody, my lass,” Wharton said proudly. “ But put your parcels on one side for a bit. I’ve a letter I want to talk to von about. It’s from Lady Maxton, und she's accepter! my invitation for herself and Sir Meredith to spend Christmas here.”

Pam tried hard to hide the consternation in her cyea her father's announcement caused her. Yet. mingled with her disappointment, was curiosity.

Coining here—to its? But I’ve always heard the Maxtons were so exclusive. and we—well, money and success won’t make us anything but what wo are, and,*’ her dainty head went hack proudly, “I’m not ashamed nf being one of the people. What you’ve got, you’ve crot honestly. Your work people are the best paid in Melchester, and ”

“ Stead;,-, lass, steady. There/ sno one attacking your old daddy, and the Max tons are the last people to want to do so. You see. there’s something I’ve never told you. When Sir Charles died he didn’t leave a penny, and bnt for me giving her ladyship full value for absolutely worthless shares, she and the boy would have been as poor as church mice-” “Then that's why they’re coming' Because it’s the first time you've asked them, and being under such a big obligation they don’t like to refuse.” Sam Wharton chuckled. 1 I’m not bothering about tbeir reasons lass. They’re coining, and we’re going to have a slap-up Christmas, with you doing the lady bountiful anti- —” “ You've forgotten something.” Pam said quietly. c * There’s Gran and Grampie. They always come for Christmas. These fine folk wouldn't appreciate them.” “You little Socialist!” Samuel Wharton held Pam's dainty figure at arm’s length, pride and merriment in j his honest, plebian face. “ Also you're an absolute autocrat, twisting m«* round your finger as you do. It’s true I hadn’t thought of your mother's people.” He frowned slightly. 1 ' Put I’ll leave you to work things out.” And work them out Pam did, ip the solitude of her bedroom that night, the last of her Christmas presents sorted and addressed. On or-' ooint she was determined. Lady Max ton and her son. Sir Meredith, shouldn’t see them under any false colours. Dear old Gran and Grampie Oliver shouldn’t miss their annual treat of a visit to Mill House if fifty titled people were coming as her father’s guests. A demon of contrariness seemed to imbue Pam from -the moment she had learned of Lady Maxton’s acceptance of her father’s—to her—quixotic invitation. She even timed her return with old Gran and Grampie. in their best Sunday black, to synchronise with the arrival of the big limousine car that had been sent to the station to meet the Maxtons. And out of the limousine, a. tall, broad shouldered man of well under thirty stepped, so quickly that lie had assisted old Mrs Oliver into the house before Pam could make any demur, j “Any luggage?” he asked cheerily | “Oh, this?” He picked up the rope- | tied Japanese basket that contained I a two-night stay, and deposited it in j the hall, then turned a smiling face t/u I Jam. “ Miss Wharton, of course? Lady Maxton couldn't come after all I Pam. “Miss Wharton, of course? got a wire calling her awav to a sister I of hers who has met with an accident, so 1 came bv myself.” j Pam fancied that he would have liked to add, “ so that you wouldn’t be dis appointed.” anil her smile was decid edly frigid. Yet she liked his clean cut. good- humoured face, and th K straight grey eyes that had laughter ii tlieir depths. “ Then we'll have to make the besf j of you. Sir Meredith,” she found her self saying lightly. “ Thank you to:

helping Mrs Oliver in. She’s my grandmother, and we always have the old folk up for Christmas. I’d like to have them altogether, but they’ve lived in Hose Cottage all their lives, and nothing will induce them to give it up.” “Rather not! I know I’d hate to leave the place I was born in, whether it was cottage or mansion. L oven hated leaving the old shack T built myself out on the U-Bar Ranch in Alberta : a place one makes ilk© that seems home.” Pam studied him with fresh interest, a little of the contempt she had been feeling for one et the “ idle ” class fading away. Nor was there anything of patronage in his manner, and y she might liavo been presenting him to royalty when, five minutes later, in the huge drawing-room, she introduced him to old Mr and Airs Oliver. Pam’s grandmother curtsied low. and old Josh Oliver tugged at the wisp of hair that hung over his brow. “ I'm pleased to meet you. sir.” he said, in his quavering voice. “ Ale an’ other are humble folks, so you mustn’t take no notice of us if our manners aren’t quite like the quality s. “ You’re dears!” Pain said defensively. an arm about a neck of each, swift challenge in her eves as they met Sir Meredith's. “ I’m sure they are, and I think it very good ot you to allow me to join the family circle.” lie said, with a Before Pam could answer. Samuel Wharton appeared- unable to mask the. surprise he felt at sight of the oddlv assorted party round the huge log tire, i For once, Pam had let him down. As

least, she could have arranged for the old people’s coining after the Maxton. had, been accorded a fitting welcome. ‘? Where’s her ladyship?” ho asked, shaking hands with old Meredith, obviously disappointed when he learnec t’hat Lady Maxton was unable to come. Already he had sent a notice to the l(ocal paper stating that' "Lady and Sir Meredith Maxton were spending Christmas at Mill House, Melchester.” And Pam noted her father's coaster nation with secret amusement. It would be fun to leave them to it —her father, the dear old people and Sir Meredith! “ I’m always busy on Christmas Eve.” she said, in brisk, businesslike tones. “Gran and Grampie ahvavs ex cuse me, so perhaps you will, too. Sir Meredith?” “ Certainly, Miss Wharton.” Pam left the room, but there was nc triumph in her heart. At every turn this man whom she had! meant to show she was not impressed by his coming i left her utterly nonplussed. Where ; I she had expected contempt for her 5 i humble old grandparents, she had met j almost reverential respect, and graci- j ousnesK itself had greeted her deliberaate departure from the drawing-room. I when she had hoped for a remonstrance j of some sort. It- was odd how these reflections rankled, as Pam set about her task of giving- the spacious dining-room a festive appearance, by a tusteful display ! of hollv and evergreens, cut- from the grounds. She had just arranged t-lie last sprig of evergreen over the last picture, when, in some unaccountable way, the tops slipped, and. despite her .attempts to save lierself from falling, Pam •cashed to the ground, striking her head against the tahle-Aeg as she fell. Fate must have decreed that their ruest. should pass thje dining room loor at that moment, tjhough his waning shout- sounded jusit too late, and .hen a minute later Pam looked up ,it!i dazed eves, it wds to find a pair

of grev ones looking with genuine conoern into liers. - t wish I’d obeyed the impulse to l offer you my help.’’ were the man’s first words, after Pam bail been as- | sisted to one of the deep leather arm- | chairs, n little of the colour back in her cheeks. “But to tell you the truth, I was afraid of getting snubbed for my pains.” This time Pam flushed deeply, and was angrily conscious of the fact. j *• I'm sorry if my manner lias appeared rude to you/' she said distantly. Who missed the glint of humour in the eyes studying her so intently. “ Well, not exactly rude,” lie conceded. *' But it struck me you weren’t overjoyed at the choice of your father s guest. We won’t discuss that now. however. T expect your head aches, and I'm not going to let you move from that chair until you are more yourself. So sit quite still until I give you permission to move. It was the first time that Pam had ! been given an order in her young life and she resented it accordingly. I *• You're very kind. Sir Meredith, j but as I told you, Pm always busy on I Christmas Kve.” j Then it’s a good thing I am here j to take some of it off your shoulders. 1 I see you’ve finislied the decorations ! here.” ho ran an appreeiatory _ eye. round the bedecked walls. “ W hat’s the next item on your programmer It was impossible to be out of humour with him. and Pam smiled. Also, her head ached badly as a result of the blow she had sustained.

“There's the Christmas tree to be • ung,” she said in more mollified aeents. “.Father has the villagers up ji\ Christmas morning, and there is something for each of them.'’ •• I see. He bowed extravagantly. ; Your very humble servant, Miss Wharton.” And over the self-imposed task Pam, vatching Sir Meredith, forgot former prejudices and found herself chatting away in her usual cheery mannerincidentally, too, she learned quite a lot about her companion’s life out west that caused her to readjust her preconceived ideas of Lady Maxton's son. This man had worked by the sweat of his brow; lie had known what it was. apparently, to be on the verge of success again and again, only to meet with failure and bitter disappointment. But whether he had finally succeeded he did not confide to Pam, dexterously turning the conversation into other channels at that point. The tree dressing took quite two hours, but at the end of it both felt they had learned much of the other. Dinner, too, went off easily. The old people lost their shyness and indeed the other guest might have been one of the family circle ironi the way he comported himself. And Samuel Wharton watched his manner to Pam with growing satisfaction. To see her “my lady” would fulfil his most cherished ambition, and Pam had obviously fallen under their guest’s spell. Her merry laughter rang out at his brilliant sallies, her eyes growing tender as she noticed his kindly but by no means patronising attention to old Mr and Mrs Oliver. Afterwards when the moon came up casting her silver rays on the white scene without, turning the thin mantle of snow to glistening diamond’s, Pam didn’t refuse Sir Meredith’s invitation to a brisk walk and to her great surprise found herself thrilled by his near presence, her heart bounding within her when once during the. walk their hands accidentally touched. On their return to the house Sam Wharton awaited them, standing by the brightly blazing log fire, in the drawing-room, his keen glance taking in Pam’s flushed cheeks, and the love unconsciously betrayed in her eyes. Proudly he 'slipped an arm about her slender shoulders. ** I’m very proud of my little lass, Sir Meredith,” lie said fondly, Pam’s soft hand against bis lips preventing him from saying, more, however. After a time, she left the two men together, going to her room, but it was hours before she slept. Sir Meredith’s lace rose ceaselessly before her eyes and she went over again and again every word that had passed between them since his coming. Of all the undreamed of things, she ha<l fallen in love with a man who was certainly the last person to think of marrying a girl whose father was once a mill-hand ! With all her heart now Pam wished she had never met him. This Christmas would stand out in her memory apart from all others, because it lusd brought such joy and pain with it. This was her last conscious thought when at length she fell asleep, and the first to haunt her on waking. Going to the window she looked out. For once they were certainly going to have a “white” Christmas, for snow had fallen heavily and not a blade of grass | was to be seen. Pam decided to dress ; mid .get in a brisk walk before the i household was up and within ten minj utes of waking was creeping softly I down the stairs and out into the snowcovered world. The fact that someone must have omitted to bolt the front door the previous night escaped her until she caught sight of a man’s footprints in t/he thick snow along the drive, and rounding a bend she recognised Sir 11l;, 1, - c- t *I I T fiimi-P sniii-nKO in bund

Pam’s quick running steps marie no sound on the carpet of snow and she was abreast oi' him before he knew she was folowing. A sharp and somewhat disconcerted exclamation escaped liiin and consernation gave place to laughter in his eyes. “Yon. too. are out early. Sir Meredith. But why this?” Pam indicated the suitcaso. “Yon aren’t going “ Yes. I ought never to have come. But J — I didn’t take a certain very important factor into consideration, and that made all the difference to “I don't understand.” Pam’s cfes wore puzzled. “ YVhat could have happened to drive you away like this."” The' mail’s grey eyes met hers. “ Something that made me regret a very hasty impulse. Miss Wharton, ‘ and one that 1 ought never to have j yielded to. I realised this fully last night after a long talk with your father. Ho made it very clear indeed : that he wished you to marry .a title mid he gave me plainly to understand that- you shared that ambition.” He broke off at the expression of anger in Barn’s face. “ And so you decided your, wisest plan was to beat a retreat in ease I set my cap at you, Sir Meredith? - ’ she said scathingly. “ But you need not have been afraid. T have never been ashamed of my humble birth, and pd marry a working man if I loved him and he loved me. - ’ ** Would you?” The words shot j eagerly from the man’s lips and. dropj ping the suitcaso lie gripped both of

Pam's small hands Would, you marry a man who had nothing of birth to recommend him; v.ho d worked foi every penny of wliat he’d got; a man who wasn’t even sure that the name • he used was his own:-- < • Yes. If 1 loved lum, Sir Meredith.” , , T »• I’m not Sir Meredith, and 1 haven’t the least right to be here as your guest . . .’ Pam’s eyes opened with with sur--1 *‘Not Sir Meredith Maxtcn. Then He did not release her hands. “ Let me explain. I know Maxton slightly. I met him over some business transactions after I came back from the W est and we chummed up. Yesterday he asked me to send a wire to your lather stating that the invitation for him and his mother to spend Christmas with you must be cancelled. I didn’t send that v ire. -I. had nowhere to go for Christmas, not j a soid to see and talk to, so- 1_ ■•decided to come down in Sir Meredith s place. A' least that wasn't the only icasou. I'd seen a photograph of you in one of the papers, and l . . . well, to tell you the truth. I'd fallen in love with it.” J • And when you saw the original vou changed your mind?” Pam aske<l coyly. __ . “Good Lord. no. Why, yqu re a i thousand times sweeter, dearer . . . j ■ 1 haven't a title and your rather ! made it clear what llis plans were- for Pam laughed roguishly. “C-h. daddy’s the most amenable j person in the world when lie's handled the light way. and 1 think if you had been Sir Meredith," she added wicked- i lv, • l should have been obliged to forget that I, too, had fallen* in -love!” She made no attempt to elude him as both his arms rldsed round her, | but there, was laughter on her lips and i in her heart. “I'd like to know& our name,'’ she i said at last, when her lips were tree. •It's Croft—-Edward Croft, .Teddy to vou. ’ ••'Then, Mr Edward-Croft- Teddy to me -will you be our honoured guest this Christmas time?” And for obvious reasons Teddy l roft did not refuse.