THE MONEY SENSE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18959, 3 January 1930, Page 16

THE MONEY SENSE.

~ STAR’S ” NEW SERIAL STORY.

CHAPTER I.—(Continued). “ Bring anyone you like. What’s her name?” Tony asked cheerfully. “ Ann Crawfurd.” Neither of the men noticed that Jill was disturbed and uneasy. “ I didn’t know you cared about women,” she said to Clyde. “ I don’t—they interfere with one’s work. By the bye, Thornton sent me a brief to-day, and it’s a big case. I suppose I owe it to you, Tony?” Preston remarked. “ Not a little bit. You owe it to your own merits. Thornton has been holding you up as an example for me to follow. He seems to think you have all the qualities and virtues, while I have none. Indeed, he accused me of being vicious,” Tony said lightly. “You must have been mistaken. You don’t drink to excess. You live a clean life. You're not afraid of work, and you’re a loyal friend,” Clyde said reflectively. “Thanks for those few kind words. It appears that I do not fully recognise the value of pounds, shillings, and pence, and that is the worst crime in Thornton’s calendar. I gave him my promise to try to reform. I don’t know what’s wrong with md. If I’ve money in my pocket, I feel it’s there to be spent, and not to be hoarded. I’ve never placed the slightest value on it.” “Except when your pockets have been empty,” Clyde remarked dryly. “Even then you can’t accuse me of being miserable. I lie low and wait for more money to arrive.” “Some day you may have to wait an unconscionably long time. But you’re beyond taking advice. I gave you up long ago,” Clyde said with a smile that showed the affection he had for his friend. “What’s this Ann Crawfurd like?” Jill asked abruptly. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her, but mother says that she’s charming. Are you dining at the cafe to-night?” “Yes—the usual place,” answered Tony. “I’ll bring her along, then. Bye-bye, young people,” said Clyde. “I’m coming,” Jill said quickly, and they went away together. Alone Tony examined his new home with approval. lie went to the easel and inspected a half-finished portrait, for which Jill had been his model. His examination of his work was critical in the extreme, but he seemed to be satisfied. “I believe I can paint,” he told himself with confidence. Next, he tried a few of the records, and wandered restlessly around, adjusting the positions of the various pieces of furniture until he was pleased with the effect. Before long there was another knock at the door, which he hastened to answer. A man of about thirty stood outside, and was invited to come in. York Fletcher hesitated, but onl\’ for a moment, for he braced himself up and entered briskly. “Opening a pub?” he asked with a glance at the long row of bottles. “What’ll you drink?” Tony asked with ready hospitality, although he had no great liking for the journalist, for that was Fletcher’s profession. “I don't drink _ anything, not until I’ve got it off my chest. Langford, I’m in a devil of a hole. There’s a wretched judgment summons, with a committal order against me. Unless I can find twenty pounds by the morning, I shall be hauled off to Brixton Gaol,” he announced. “I thought that sort of thing was done away with.” “I wish it were. They call it contempt of Court.” All the time he was speaking, he was watching Tony’s face, and a deep sigh escaped him when he saw the bundle of Bank of England notes produced, and he cursed himself for not having asked for fifty, instead of twenty pounds. “You’re a brick. I’ll pay you back from the first cheque I get,” he said effusively. “There’s no hurry, I’ve plenty to get along with,” Tony answered wth an indifference that was not assumed. As soon as the money was in his pocket, Fletcher sought for an excuse for immediate escape, but accepted the whisky that was poured out for him. “Shall I give you an 1.0. U.?” he asked. “It doesn’t matter. It’s hardly a business transaction,” Tony answered, feeling that he did not like the man, although he could give himself no reason for the sudden dislike—perhaps it was the fact that the thanks had been too effusive for sincerity. Anyhow*, he was relieved to find himself alone again, and he continued his restless wandering. Now’ and again a smile would flit across his face, for he (nniminiuniiiiiiiiiinmmiiiiiiniiiiiiiimiimiiiiiiiiiifiiiiiiiiiimiinmimimiiiiiii

had not a worry in the world, and life was very pleasant. It was no labour, but a real pleasure, to paint. He had many friends, men and women. He was fit and healthy. Indeed, he could think of nothing that he desired, except the fame that he believed to loom ahead. At last it was time to dine, and he strolled along the Ring’s Road until he reached an unpretentious establishment, outside which there was an artis-tically-painted sign, with the picture of a dainty woman, and lettering announcing that the place was the “New Cafe.” The large room was striking in the extreme, for canvasses had been fixed to the walls, and a clever scenic artist had painted a country landscape. At the far end was a single long table, which was nightly reserved for Tony and his crowd of friends. None of them had arrived, and he placed a couple of bottles of red wine on the table. The proprietress, a slender, fair woman with blue eyes and a gracious manner, gave him a friendly greeting, and they chatted together until customers began to come in. Jill was an early arrival, and was followed by a number of young men and women, who exchanged boisterous salutations and much banter and light-hearted chaff. Orders were given, and seats were taken haphazardly, but Jill chose hers with care, with two vacant seats on one side, which she said were reserved. No one noticed that her eyes were ever turning in the direction of the entrance, and that she became a little pale when Clyde Preston came in. Walking beside him was a girl, tall and lissom, who carried herself with an air. “ This is Ann Crawford,” Clyde announced quietly. Tony jumped to his feet and stared at the newcomer. “ Welcome, Ann Crawfurd,” he cried, and nodded to the others. “ Move up, Jill,” Tony cried peremptorily, and was obeyed at once, when she saw that Tony’s object was to sit next to Ann. He succeeded, with Clyde on the other side of Ann, and Jill next to Clyde. “Is this your first visit to Chelsea? ’ Tony asked of Ann. “ Yes,” was the answer, and he loved the timbre of her voice. “ Well, what do you think of us?” he went on cheerfully. “ You might give me a few moments to gather impressions,” she answered with a laugh. “ I’ve lived a very quiet life, and I’m rather nervous at facing so many of you. What a happy looking lot of people l Are you always like this ? ” “ Generally. It’s the principle of modern youth to keep cheery and smiling, and we try to live tip to it. To his annoyance, Clyde claimed her attention, and for a time continued to monopolise it. What was there in his friend to attract such a wonderful girl as this ? For the first time he examined Preston from a woman s point of view, and found that there were many things that might appeal to the other sex. He was good-look-ing, he undoubtedly had brains, and he inspired confidence. “ You’ve quite deserted me. Clyde can talk to Jill,” Tony said severely. “ Sorry if I’ve neglected you. But I was interested in what Mr Preston was saying,” she answered smilingly. “He can talk. He ought to be able to—he’s a barrister.” “So Mrs Preston told me. She worships her son.” “ Clyde is a thunderingly good fellow. We’ve been friends since we were kids at school, so I should know something about him.” His eyes were fixed on her, and she could not resent it, for she felt that his examination was quite impersonal. “ I must paint a portrait of you,” he blurted out. She flushed a little, and did not answer at once. “ Do 3*ou want to paint every woman you meet?” she asked quietly. “ Good heavens, noj ” he shouted. “ The line of your neck is fascinating. And your shoulders. What colour are your eyes. Green, blue, what?” “ I believe they’re hazel. I’ve been told that the colour changes. Mr Langford, your personalities are rather terrifying.” “ Tony, please. I won’t be Mr Langford. I’m going to call you Ann. What a fool I am. A couple of hours ago I was telling myself that there wasn’t anything in the world to wish for,” he cried joyously. “ Tony, shall we get round to the studio?” Clyde broke in, and his voice was not quite steady. Moreover, his eyes were very anxious as they rested on Ann. (To be continued.)