THE TANGLED WEB

Star (Christchurch), Issue 19107, 27 June 1930, Page 16

THE TANGLED WEB

[Published by Special Arrangement.]

By

ELIZABETH YORK MILLER.

Author of “ The Runaway Wife,” “ The Road That Led Home,” “ A Cinderella of Mayfair,” etc., etc.

[Copyright.]

CHAPTER IX

Lady Pelbury had sent out invitations to one of her more dignified din-ner-parties, a concession of her husband’s business interests, and at the last moment an important woman guest had failed her. To fill in the gap she rang up her niece and Meriel responded. It would be helping out Angel, for whom she had great affection, and perhaps the change from the quiet life she had been leading of late would do something to ease the great load of worry she was bearing. “ Come early,” said Lady Pelbury over the telephone, “ because I want to have a little chat you before the others arrive.” Meriel’s heart stirred uneasily. Angel was about her only link in London with Eric. She wondered. , , . “Is it anything particular?” “Not so very—only I haven’t seen you for such ages, Merry. Somebody told me the other day that you were getting horribly thin.” Meriel smiled. Aunt Angel herself was far from being a sylph, but wouldn’t she have hated being pitied for her fatness! “ Oh, I’m all right,” Meriel replied cheerfully. “ It’s this hot weather, I suppose.” It would be quite an event dressing for so special an occasion. Lately it had seemed to Meriel that her social life in Aunt Angel’s sense was a thing of the past. Only twenty-two, and the lighter side of life well behind. “ You don’t mind, do you, Daddy?” She asked with that new meekness which made John Raynes so miserable. “ It’s not a rowdy' party. Mostly old married couples, I gather. Some of Uncle Monty’s directors and their wives.” “ How dull for you!” said John. “No, of course I don’t ynind. I’ve got Jim and Captain Pears dining with me tonight. You remember old Pears, don’t you?” “ Oh, yes! He used to bring me such' funny presents when he was on the West Indies service.” There was a note of regret in her voice. Too bad that Angel needed her to-night, but she could get away soon after her duty of filling in at the table was over. John tried to speak casually. “Pears is one the Cape service now, the Atalanta. She got in this morning.” He wanted to give Meriel a little hint, prepare the way, as it were, for that scheme of his. “ They had some trouble this last trip with the dockers and the Atalanta was held up overtime at Cape Town. I’m expecting some interesting reports.” Meriel made no comment, although her very silence was eloquent. Having planted his little seed, John Raynes left it to take root. She could not be taken by complete surprise when she learned what one of those “ reports ” concerned. Meriel chose her frock very carefully that evening, bearing in mind the fact that when she got home again Captain Pears and Jim might still be with her father. Last night she had told herself that she must not permit any more such scenes with Jim as had occurred; that, in fact, she ought not to allow herself to see Jim Tremlett any more. It might be easy enough for the immediate future, for her father had more or less planned a cruise in Norway in August. Yet while the determination not to put herself in Jim’s way was still fresh in her mind, Meriel found herself weakening. “ Only once more ” her heart pleaded. 'Her heart knew well enough that the battle was lost. $$ ti When she arrived at the big mansion overlooking Regent’s Park which housed the Pelburys, she was shown up at once to her aunt’s dressing-room. Lady Pelbury had reached that stage in her toilette when the services of her maid could be dispensed with, and was now occupied in putting a few artistic touches to her eye-lashes and complexion. A cigarette . was balanced perilously on the edge of the dressingtable and an iced cocktail stood ready for refreshment. “ My dear, that green frock is too deliciously cool and refreshing to look at,” she said, when Meriel appeared, “ but you do need a touch of rouge to liven you up.” And certainly, beside Lady Pelbury’s beauty, which was of the florid order, Meriel was forced to admit that she herself had rather a washed-out look. They chatted for a few moments on matters connected with the dinnerparty, Angel overflowing with gratitude for her niece’s amiability in consenting to fill in the gap, but all the while Meriel had a consciousness that her aunt had asked her to come early for some special purpose'. And so it proved. “ I’ve been wondering,” mused Angel, “ if you ever hear from that charming Eric Saunders we were both so fond of.” She was moving about the room now, collecting the little bag and the oddments to see her comfortably through the evening, while Meriel sat at the dressing-table dallying with the paint-pots. “ No, I’ve never heard from him since he went away,” Meriel replied. She felt like a play-actress and wondered if she were doing her part well or ill. “ Have you?” she added. “ Not directly,” Lady Pelbury replied. “ Now where did I leave my jade holder? Ah, here we are!” “ How do you mean?” Meriel asked quicklv. “ Have you heard indirectly?” “Yes, in a way. It’s rather curious. I’ve got an idea he may be dead.” Meriel wheeled about and looked at her. “Dead? Eric dead?” she whispered. “ My dear, surely you’re not still in love with him! ” Lady Pelbury cried. “ No—only I—it seems so queer. Please tell me, Angel.” “ Well, I had occasion to write to him,” Lady Pelbury said slowly. “It was to an address in care of a solicitor he had once given me as a reference in a small financial matter. I’d loaned Eric a little money, which, in course

of time, was repaid through this solicitor. . . . Well, Eric called to see me in London the day before he sailed. That would have been last October—no, it was early in November. About the time you went to stay with Julia, if I remember rightly.” Meriel felt as though she was suffocating. Angel mustn’t see—mustn’t suspect how deeply this was affecting ! her. She turned again to the mirror and began to rub away some of the rouge she had put on. It seemed superllous now. . . And he borrowed another small sum from me then.” Lady Pelbury went on. “ Well, not such a - small sum, either. It was two hundred pounds. I guess I was a bit of a mug to let him have it, but as he’d paid back the other time I thought it would be all right. . . . A couple of months ago I wrote to him about it and the solicitors must have opened the letter, for the answer came back from them that the ‘ Saunders estate had been settled and no further claims against it could be admitted at this late date.’ Monty says that can be taken in two ways—either Eric is dead, or else it refers to the estate of his uncle—whom he said was dying —which means that his uncle had taken full legal responsibility for Eric’s personal debts and obligations. A tricky and not too nice point of law which Monty says wouldn’t hold water for a minute in any court, but would cost about ten times the sum involved to recover it. Besides, I’ve only got Eric’s 1.0. U.” “ Eric wouldn’t be dishonest,” Meriel said in a stifled voice. Let her at least give him what tribute she could. “ I don’t think he would,” replied Lady Pelbury. “ That’s why I feel he must be dead. Particularly as neither you nor I have heard from him. I didn’t tell you. Merry, that when 1 saw him the last time he told me how madly in love with you he was,- and how he meant to come back to England just as soon as he could in the hope of persuading your father that he was good enough to marry you. I discouraged him, of course. He wasn't quite the sort of man we want in the family, and although he didn’t see it himself, he was far, far too old for you, Merry.” Insensibly Angel had lowered her voice. Meriel was not a great success at play-acting. The girl looked positively ill. How foolish, thought happy-go-lucky Angel, to have brought up this subject at such a moment! But she hadn’t dreamed that Merry still cared for Eric Saunders. Merry, herself, had said that she had quite got over it. Still, girls are so queer that you never can tell about them. g “My dear——! Look at the time! We must go down to the drawingroom at once. I wonder Monty hasn’t sent up one of his sweetly sarcastic mesages.” The reason why Uncle Monty hadn’t done so was quite clear to Meriel. It still lacked ten minutes to the time when Angel could reasonably expect the first of her guests. But Meriel understood the sudden change of voice and subject. Poor Angel was afraid that she had been upset and would in consequence upset the party more than the gap in the table would have done. She rallied, made a brave effort to pull herself together, and almost succeeded in convincing Lady Pelbury that everything was all right. The bearded scientist on Meriel’s left, whose life’s work had some synthetic resemblance to that of the silkworm, and the smooth-cheeked undergraduate on her right, who was soon to enter Uucle Monty’s business for reasons connected with a shareholding father, had no fault to find with the charming girl they shared between them. In fact, they both fell a little in love with Meriel and sadly neglected their other obligations. She owed it to Angel to be a social success. She also owed it to herself, Meriel thought. People had no right to impose their secret and wholly private depressions upon the world at large. Yet while she chattered so gaily and at moments rose to such heights of repartee that a seasoned woman of the world might have envied, Meriel’s inner attention was elsewhere. Afterwards she had no memory at all of what she had said to bring forth such rippling responses from her dinner companions. She did not even recall their names and was only vaguely aware that the smooth-cheeked boy was rather cast down when she left so early. Why had she been in such a rush to get home? Was it because of jolly old Captain Pears? No, it was because of Jim. One must be honest to oneself at least. Not to do so was like cheating at patience. What Angel had said about Eric had filled her with painful excitement. There was something very terrible in the thought that she would be far happier if Eric were dead than if he appeared, say to-morrow, to claim her as his wife. She tried hard not to think about it, but it was in her mind all the same. She must ask Angel for that solicitor's address and write at once. The suspense was too dreadful. Then the car slid into Bloomsburysquare and before the chauffeur had time to open the door her father was coming down the steps to meet her. “Home so soon?” he asked, his voice it seemed to her unusually tender. “ I wanted to get back early on account of Captain Pears,” she replied. “ He’s just gone,” John replied. “ But Jim’s hanging on.” They went into the house; into the library. JTim was standing by the fireplace twiddling a half-smoked cigar, which he cast away when Meriel appeared. “ Don’t be silly,” she said with a smile. “You know I’m inured to a smoky atmosphere.” “Oh, I’d finished with it,” Jim said. (To be Continued.)