Fine Feathers.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18772, 30 May 1929, Page 16

Fine Feathers.

“ STAR’S ” NEW SERIAL.

By

EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS

Author of “ A Bunch of Blue Ribbons," “ The Man From the West,” “ Brave Love,” etc.

CHAPTER Xlll.—(Continued).

“Good heavens!” she said. “Why -there’s Bryan . . . and he’s with Susie! Oh, Lonel, go and bring Susie here.” But even as she spoke, Sir Bryan had caught sight of Tony, and turned quickly to his companion, who came steadily across to the table to greet Antoinette. “Why, this is a surprise, Tony,” he said. “Imagine you being here, I thought you were at Breckley. I have brought Mrs Lampson here to have a little luncheon, and a long talk.” “Won’t you come and sit with us, Susie?” said Antoinette, and she stretched out her hand eagerly. But Mrs Lampson drew back. She had no liking for Lionel Crafter. Though there had never been any confidence between them, she knew that this man was an evid influence in Antoinette Minster’s life, and she also knew him to be utterly heartless, and perhaps worthless. “Thanks, darling,” she said, “but Sir Bryan has some business to discuss, and you have almost finished your luncheon.” The two young men had been introduced, but they had not shaken hands. And Lionel Crafter found himself lookxug at Angleton with a great swirl of jealous envy in his heart. “So this is the fellow,” he said to himself, “who has come into thousands! He looks exactly what he was, a lawyer’s clerk.” In this he was quite wrong. There was not a smarter looking young man in the restaurant than Sir Bryan Angleton. His clothes were perfectly cut and well chosen. But a feeling of hostility was born almost unconsciously in the hearts of both young men. Sir Bryan moved on and Mrs Lampson went with him. “Of course,” said Antoinette, as they went, “I know what that means. He’s going to help Susie. You know gran treated her very badly. She turned her out at a minute’s notice. I can’t tell you how much I miss her. I have only got that odious Frances to fall back upon for companionship.” But Lionel Crafter was not listening. The appearance of Sir Bryan on the scene had awakened in him an ugly feeling. “I have got to go,” he said. “I’m awfully sorry, but as these two people are here you can stay with them. I don’t know when I shall see you again, my dear, it all depends on what Uncle Arthur does for me. Anyhow, as I said just now, we face an absolutely bleak outlook, Tony. It’s just as, bad for you as it is for me, and the best thing we can do is to shake hands and say ‘Good-bye’.” “I’ll shake hands with you, but I cannot say ‘good-bye,’ ” the girl said, and now she spoke bravely and with a note of pathos in her voice. “There has been too much between us to part in this casual way.” “Well, we can’t have a scene in the restaurant, you know,” said Lionel Crafter. And as he got up he put on his most ingratiating smile and held out his hand. And Antoinette found herself putting her hand into his, and then she watched him go out of the restaurant, and she felt as if the end of her life had come.

CHAPTER XIV.

That same night Sir Arthur Crafter was taken very ill indeed; so ill that the doctor insisted on calling in a specialist, and a nurse was installed. The mere thought of anything happening to this old man, who had shown her such tenderness and real affection, caused Mary’s heart to contract, and Mrs Manson made no secret of her anxiety, and went about with reddened eyes and a very troubled look. No one thought of informing Lionel Crafter of his uncle’s grave illness, although his name was mentioned. In fact, Mrs Manspn informed Sir Arthur’s physician that she was convinced it was the interview with his nephew which had brought on this severe heart attack. “He always upsets Sir Arthur,” she said. And the doctor nodded his head. He knew a good deal about Lionel Crafter, and he felt convinced that Mrs Manson’s theory was correct. Towards morning, however, the treatment followed resulted in great improvement, and the sick old ma'n drifted into a peaceful and a helpful sleep. Mary wanted to sit up all night, but both the housekeeper and the nurse refused to allow this. But though she went to her room, and undressed and went to bed, she could not go to sleep. All the anguish which she had suffered when she had known that her dear mother was fading slowly but surely afvay from her, came back in these hours. She felt, too, very desolate, very lonely. She wanted to have a hand to cling to, to have someone to speak words of comfort to her. She was most considerately treated by those in the house, but this was not the same. And vaguely her heart turned to Bryan. lie had been so delicately consoling, so sweet in his protective care of her. Alary had been surrounded by people all her life. Of course there had been sorrow, and trouble, and financial difficulties; still, she had never been alone until ,now, and this loneliness was very difficult. About seven o’clock the housekeeper came into her room, and, finding her lying with wide open eyes, spoke to her. “Now, my dear, you mustn't fret in this way. I'm thankful to say Sir Arthur is considerably better. Dr Grant has been and given a good report; Sir Arthur’s pulse is steadier, he has no temperature,- and he has no pain. If \ye can only keep him quiet, and stand between him and worry, he will puil round. But what I am afraid is,” added Mrs Manson, “that we shan’t be able to keep worry away from him for long, because I am convinced that our Mr Lionel will be on the scene pretty early this morning. I know Sir Arthur intended to write him last night, but he was too ill to do this.” “We ought to have sent to him,”

said Mary quickly. “I am sure he must be fond of Uncle Arthur. “Fond of Sir Arthur!” repeated Mrs Man son. “Mr Lionel is fond of no one but himself. The most selfish creature that ever walked the earth. No, you must not look at me like that. Miss Pagent, for if I had seen a spark of consideration .in this young man, I should be only too glad to speak about it. But he cares no more for his uncle than he does for the ground on which he walks. He’s thinking of himself all the time! You see, my dear, if I’m not right when I tell you he’ll be round pretty early this morning!” Mrs Manson’s words of prophesy were fulfilled. It was not ten o’clock before Lionel Grafter arrived. Mary was just coming down the stairs. She had crept into the sick room, and she had stooped to press a kiss on the old man’s brow. He had smiled at her, and he had spoken in a tired, weak voice, and had, as usual, shown his usual solicitude for her comfort and well-being. (To be continued.)

Mrs Sellers, wife of a New Plymouth sawmiller, Donald Sellers, who disappeared mysteriously early in May, when she was left distressed and ticketless on board the Aorangi, is now quite happy, states the Auckland correspondent of the Star. It will be remembered that Mrs Sellers went as far as Suva by the Aorangi, and when she found that her husband had gone to Sydney by the Maunganui from Wellington, she returned to Auckland on May 20 by the Niagara. Naturally she was surprised and dismayed that her husband should fail to sail by the Aorangi from Auckland. She returned to New Plymouth. “ Everything is quite satisfactory, and I got a letter which my husband left for me,” says Mrs Sellers in a letter which has been received by Inspector J. W. Hollis, in charge of the Central police district at Auckland. Mrs Sellers also thanked the Auckland police for the great trouble they had taken to locate her husband.