THE MONEY SENSE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18985, 3 February 1930, Page 16

THE MONEY SENSE.

“ STAR S " NEW SERIAL STORY.

CHAPTER XIV.— (Continued). “But her portrait will lead to manyother commissions. Besides, I should offend Sir Claude.'' “I’m not sure that y-ou would,” she answered shrewdly, and he looked at her in surprise. “You must know that he loves her, and will hardly'- care to look on while she is making violent overtures to another man.” “What other man?” he asked in a puzzled voice. “Oh! Tony% you simpleton. You’re the other man. Don’t tell me you’re so blind as not to have seen her little tricks,” she said dryly.

“Upon my honour. I’ve seen nothing. She looks upon me as a friend—and an artist, and that’s all there is to it,” he declared with a sincerity she could not doubt. “My dear, your lack of conceit is amazing, and I love you for your modesty'. It’s so rare and refreshing in these day*s. But you must believe that fm right in what I say-. Sit down, and write her a polite note, telling her that you are very- sorry’, but you cannot carry out the commission. If you wish, we can invent a plausible excuse, although I think it’s hardly necessary under the circumstances. What do you say to it?” she asked, finally.

Tony* was thinking hard, and there was, in his mind, a natural desire to do as she wished; but, after consideration, he found that it was impossible to give up what he thought to be a straight path to fame and success. “Even if what you say r is true, it would be an act of madness not to go on with the portrait. I will try to cut out the social part as much as possible. Apart from the picture, I don’t care if I never see the woman again. I’m sure you 'would never mistrust me.”

* “Ye gods, no. Not as far as making love to another woman is concerned. But you are liable to be guilty of other sorts of foolishness, and I’m anxious to protect you against yourself. Won’t you do this for me?” she asked quietly', but waited breathlessly for his answer. “I would if I could, but, honestly, I should be miserable if I did. You know T. think a blazes of a lot of my work, and I’ve been given the chance of a lifetime,” he said frankly'. Ann realised that she had lost, but did not allow him to see the keenness of her disappointment. She smiled a little wanly, as she allowed him to draw her into his arms, for she did not doubt that the loss of the two hundred pounds had vanished from his mind, and now that he had made confession, and had been forgiven, it was a matter of very little consequence, so far as he was concerned. It was clear to her that he regarded the loss of the money as quite a trivial matter, and she* wondered if she would ever be able to give him a sense of the realities of life.

Now he was looking into her eyes, and his were eloquent of his love for her. With a cry of passion he drew her more closely to him, and kissed her again and again. After all, she owned the best part of the man she loved, and there was nothing mean about his weakness# So her arms went around his neck, and she gave him kiss for kiss. But she was conscious, even then, of a fierce desire to mother him and to protect him from himself. “What made you ask me if you were in the way when I was painting?” he questioned her, when they were getting ready for bed. “The idea occurred to pie,” she answered evasively’, for she did not wish to mention Clyde’s reference to it. “It’s very curious, but often I would very nearly row with Clyde because I couldn’t make him understand. I believe the old chap thought I w r as putting on side, or something of that sort—the silly' ass. I mean it sincerely, when I say that y'ou don’t disturb me at all. I was surprised when I first discovered it,” he said reflectively. “Tony', you’ve only to say the word and I'll give up my' singing,” she said earnestly’.

“We’ve discussed that and decided. I miss you very much, but I think you’ve qome to a right decision. Why should any man have the impertinence to try' to monopolise the whole of a woman’s life, and deprive the world of a rare gift?” he asked with a smile. His question needed no answer, but she smiled her thanks for the compliment he had paid her. After all, she would not have been altogether content if he had agreed to abandon the painting of the Princess’s portrait, for she would have had uncomfortable feeling that he had made a great sacrifice. just to please her. When morning came, they talked as

though there had been no unusual happening the night before, and they- were thoroughly cheerful and on the best of terms with each other. Indeed, there was no referende to any' unpleasantness, but. before starting for the Academy Ann did suggest that he should get his pass-book from the bank and find out what balance there was to his credit.

“All right, darling. I’ll attend to it —if I remember,” he answered lightly. Tony- was pleased with himself and everyone else, for he felt that he was in the humour for painting, and would be able to do good work. Ann shared in his pleasure, for she had learnt to dread the day's, when he bad “dried up.” Not that he was impatient or irritable with her, but on those occasions he was far from being his normal .self. Before leaving, she gave him a hug, and held him from her, while she looked into his eyes.

“We will wipe out yesterday, and it shall be as though it had never happened,” she said quietly. “Ann. thank heaven I didn’t marry a nagger. You’ve let me down very' lightly, and I’m grateful,” he said earnestly, and it rather pleased her, that he should make no promises as to the future.

As soon as she had gone, he lit his pipe, and sat down deliberately to think of Ann. Already', he had found out, that he had married a woman of a million, whose one thought was for his happiness, and who would play the game, under any circumstances. There was nothing petty in her nature, and she had rather the outlook of man, than of a woman, on life. He accounted for this by reason of her having spent the greater part of her life with her father, with whom she had been on terms of friendship, and from whom she had acquired a certain broadness of mind.

Yes, he was lucky beyond his deserts, and he would be an utter blackguard, if he were responsible for bringing any' real unhappiness to her. What a splendid mother she would make! He could imagine her with a child at her breast. Ye gods, what a picture it would make, and there and then, he vowed to paint such a one, when a child was given to them.

He began to prepare for work, and soon was glancing at his watch, for it was past eleven o’clock, the time arranged for the sitting. A quarter of an hour, and he began to become impatient, the feeling developing to irritability, when mid-day came, and she had not arrived. A few minutes later the telephone bell rang, and it was the Princess speaking to him, explaining that it was impossible for her to keep the appointment. He protested vigorously, that he was in a splendid mood for work, but she remained unimpressed by the statement. “I’ll be along, at about half past three,” she announced, and replaced the receiver.

Tony was thoroughly annoy'ed, for she had made no apology, and had offered no explanation, for the postponement of the hour of the sitting. “It’s an infernal impertinence,” he cried angrily, and seizing his hat, set out for a club, in the neighbourhood, the members of which were artists.

Horace Mark was there, and Tony drank with him, listening to his description ■of the first performance of a play, at which he had been presefit, the previous night. It is possible for artists to meet, and to discuss other subjects, than their art, which possibility differentiates them from their brethren of the pen. Mark possessed wit, and could be a most entertaining companion when he chose. Or he could be bluntly rude —when he chose, and he often did make that choice. Not that he was in any' way a snob. It was the bore that he loathed, like poison, and his fame caused many strangers to try to force their company on him. “How did you find the Princess—as a sitter?” he asked, with a touch of malice.

“Excellent, when she does sit. I waited an hour for her this morning. She telephoned to say that she couldn’t come till this afternoon,” explained Tony'.

“These society women are the very devil. Take my advice, young man—treat them as casually as they tfeat you, and they’ll begin to have a little consideration for you. Some of these ‘great ladies’ look upon us as a sort of superior lackey. Keep your end up with them. Come to lunch,” Mark said curtly, and Tony followed him to the dining-room, thinking over the counsel that had been given to him, the wisdom of which he did not doubt. (To be continued.)