SUNBURST

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20425, 2 October 1934, Page 14

SUNBURST

V W II By

BERTA RUCK.

CHAPTER X. Bluebeard's Cupboards. “Ob, but you don’t sit lierc'!” P-at exclaimed, when she found next to her at lunch that cross-questioning oglor in film-star flannels. “That’s Rupert Garfield’s place.” Pat, who had enjoyed every sunny minute of her morning listening to Mrs. Perry and picking strawberries, had looked 'forward to comparing notes with nice Rupert. However, since the butler had informed that other young man, "I expect you can have Mr. Garfield’s place for lunch, sir; ho told me lie would be on the river for most of tile day,” here was this Mr. Want-to-kriow-all in her pocket. “You don’t fisli ?” inquired Pat, havingreturned his greeting. “Not when I find anything better to do,” murmured Pedro be Castra, with one of his looks. Pat, gazing round the big dining room with the portraits which she hacl not properly seen last night, did not even see the look. A pale girl saw it from the nearest of the separate tables; but if she turned paler still, and recoiled from her salad with as much loathing as if she had found it invaded by a caterpillar, jiobodv noticed. Xobodv, that is, except Maclame De Castra. “That little Miss Ericsen of Mrs. Perry’s is fairly eating her heart out for my Pedro; was there ever such nonsense/ a girl in her position?” thought Madame De Castra, with complacent crueltv. “Can’t help it, though. Low or high, they just fall for him.” She beamed encouragingly above her plate at Patricia Roberts, whose simple reaction had been: “Gosh, this awful young man again? How am I to stand up to more questions? Better start asking him some ?” Therefore she inquired if be fished; therefore she followed it up by asking (perhaps more appropriately), if lie had been to all the shows in town? To which he countered with “Ah! That’s an idea.” Now wouldn’t Patricia —he was going to call her Patricia, if she didn’t mind? He really could not cope with all these Misters and Misses! Wouldn’t Patricia let him run her up to towii to-morrow, to lunch, and to a matinee? He suggested a play. Was it a fac-t that she’d seen nothing? Something must be done about that. Eight? Patricia would come? Rather! That is, if Auntie Mary doesn't mind. Mrs. Eawley. who had now learnt to follow half a dozen separate tabic conversations, hacl approved of this one. So far, she thought, so good. He obviously (and who shall blame him?) admired Patricia. The child handled him well, ancl did not allow herself to seem in any hurry to make friends, which was excellent. Airs. Eawley said, with a pleasant smile, “How nice of Air. Do Castra. . . . Of course! Patricia will enjoy that-.” “Patricia enjoys anything,” declared Pat, with a smile as impartial as the June sunshine that Hooded the dining room. Then to Pedro: “Lovelv. Thanks awfully. Who else is coming?” “Else?” repeated Air. De Castra, jun. Was it, after all, possible that she was pulling his leg? No. The incredible girl imagined there would be other people. . . . “Coming? Do we want anybody else?” “Oil, I always think things arc. jolly in at crowd,” Pat said amiably. “Aren’t you going to ask your pals, Bunny and Eric Whatever-their-surnames-are ?” “I am not. For one thing, I may have rather a job to get two good seats.” “Oh, I see.” Then, precipitately, before he could say more. “What are you going to be?” “Be? 5 . . . Er . . . Are you talking about some fancy dress dance, Patricia?” “No, no. Did I sound a little sudden? I didn't mean ‘be’ at a dance, I meant ‘be’ in life. Your job. That’s what men are interested in, isn't it?” “I’m terribly interested that you're interested in what I'm interested in.” “Afraid I didn’t get all that,” apologised Patricia, after she hacl laughed. “You haven't told me what vou’rc going to do as a job?” “Job? .Such an exhausting thought.” “Pedro's one of those lucky young men who don't need to do anything,” put in Pedro's mother, fondly bridling. Proudly Pedro's father added: “That’s all been (lone, young lady. The family can sit back and enjov itself now; ha, ha. It's made its little bit.” “Oh, I see. How?” Airs. Eawley, who was wondering precisely the same thing, hacl once said. “If I were clever enough to know how. at this crisis, the De Caistras manage to retain the sickening amount of monev they've made, and where they made it, I shouldn’t be running mv home as a boarding house.*” “Alade in business, nil made in busiimportantly explained De Castra senior; he rubbed bis hands together with a gesture that gave Pat the impression that the business must have been a soap factory. Actually, it had been nothing so cleanmaking. In a hasty aside I will tell you that the De Castra’s business meant shop after shop, in which garments of just-over-scareerow quality hung above assortment, 3 of sat-upon felt hats, and above rows of high-heeled shoes, size four, in livid soiled satin. Shop after si.op ‘of this type, in town after town, had helped to cram and jam the lie Castra shekel chest. Aladamu De Castra contrived to keep her family and financial history as dark a* were those fro ws tv-smelling dons garlanded with moulting fur necklets, clusters of old patent leather pumps, and grimy show cards that announced “Ladies and Gents’ AAardrobes Purchased for Cash.” Afost families possess some form of Bluebeard's cupboard: this was nuidame’s. Imagine if these Hawleys were over to get it. into their head* that the l)e < nstras had achieved fortune bv running a chain of what their niece' would probably have been brought up to lookdown upon as ‘Old Clothes Shops!’ Oh! Not to be thought of. Swift 11 cobra strikes, Pedro’s mother t At dinner, De Castra pursued his “line. 5 and was absorbed in Oxford gossip with his satellites, Bunny and Erie, between whom he had elected to sit. Tt was all “that priceless man at the Union” —and “Met him at one. of George’s parties! I said to Unconscious’—and “Larry damn well nearlv killed him; you know what 'Larry is! If lie isn't crashing himself out of a ’piano, lie’s hurling other men out of windows!” and ‘So tight lie didn’t know me. Ale! Ho said: ‘Haven’t I rocn your face some place?’ Aline!”— meaning Pedro De Castra’s. Quite a

plausible imitation ho put up of having already lost interest in the hotel’s latest This, though it caused some uneasiness to the matchmakers, was thrown away upon the girl herself. Pat was whole-heartedly pleased to be next to Rupert Garfield; whose mere nearness made her feel light-hearted and welllooked after. Hus being here ,at Pinelands meant all the difference; Colonel Rawley was an old sweet and Auntie Mary becoming less “Stone-Steadwel-lian” than slie had at first appeared—but only her cousin Rupert let her feel that she, Pat, really belonged here, and to this family 1 Now Rupert, whose pleasant composed face had caught the sun a bit that afternoon, showed no sign in his manner of having given a thought to Pat since yes- ' terday evening. (Some lovers have this gift.) Still, now that he saw her again, everything was friendly and jolly. Happily Pat listened to liis tale of the day’«r - , catch, accepted his sotto voce thanks for i her having had the sense to head off those ladies who were coming to disturb • the trout, and sympathised with the loss [ of that cherished fly. Mrs. Rawley thought: “Even if Patri- [ oia were inclined to fall for him. Rupert. fortunately, hasn't a thought for any- , tliim* here that's indoors.” At the end of dinner Willis, with the . air of one who proffers Napoleon brandy, brought up in an old Sheffield - salver an old lead kitchen spoon and an even older-looking paint brush. Pat asked: “What on earth’s that for. ‘T’m going out treacling for moths ' presently. Much too heavenly an even- ' ing to waste indoors, knocking billiard . balls about. The Colonel says he doesn’t mind my daubing my brew on the few trees in the Lime-walk. . . . By the way,” added the hunter, as though this : idea had but just occurred to him, “would - you care to come out with me and have l a look what luck I’ve had. Pat?” “Would I? Oh!” The bright face. '• half-child's, half-woman’s, lighted up 1 radiantly at the prospect of this expedi r tion with Nice Rupert—-why, it would be 1 the first time Pat had had him all to her- '■ self since they had been down there > together at Pinelands! “Lovely. When?” I “Say between half-past ten.” suggested Rupert, with an answering smile, “between half-past ten and twenty-to- • eleven ?” “Rather!” ' Then, as her aunt called, the girl nodded and ran off smiling dreamily as a !> child to whom some treat lias been promised by some grown-up proved reliable. Rupert, tall, broad-shouldered and narrow w.aisted in his well-cut. well-worn dinner jacket, stood in the hall, under a II trophy of Indian weapons, looking after || her. \ x “Why wait before I tell her all about ‘lit? We know our own minds.” lie I | decided, with a thrill of relief. “I sha’n't j hang about another day. The garden is ) a lovesomc spot, what, what ” And e also happily smiling ho turned to the , r Colonel’s den. where he was going to ” concoct that witches’ potion to lure himoths. His heart was all set on this other prize that was to be lured, caught. held fast. “Now,” he thought, “is the best date.” r Simple-hearted Pat, .looking upon t Rupert as the property of another girl. was a world away from suspecting the y young man’s intentions.-* Still, many n t girl expecting a proposal looks forward ’ to it with less delight than Pat looked forward to the mere moth-hunt with the e young man! But any girl who has been buttonholed by the boresome just when she has a date with the delightful will II sympathise with the feelings of Pat — now waylaid by Madame de Castra. “Another sweet frock we’ve got on to-night, darling.” As madaine took a flounce between finger and thumb, her very touch would have made some women sense her unuttered “How much a yard?” Already all of Pat except her actual shapely body had fled out, out into the fresh moonj lighted, black-and-silvery sighing, dewy garden to see what moths had fallen to the sugary bait spread by nice Rupert: • > so it says much for lier manners that slie could smile politely at Madame do ~ Castra’s personalities. . “You’re so young, you can wear these s simple things. When I was your age. y baby-blue and blush-pink were called i, ‘The colours for the men.’ Gone out. now!” she sighed coyly. “The men still admire a young girl all in pure white, g though, don’t they?” "Do they?” Pat. impatiently curling • her tons tip inside her shoes, wondered how she could give this lady the slip. v “I haven't seen you all day, pet,” complained Madame de Castra. letting :l go the flounce to catch the rounded arm of her victim. “As I said to papa. l ' except for that minute at lunch, 1 a haven’t had a word with our beautiful r Patricia. I’m not playing bridge, so 1 now for a cosy little chat.” “Curse,” thought Pat. “Well, it isn’t quite half-past ten.” Moonlight, cool night breeze, ami ‘ Rupert called . . . Mercilessly she was steered into the drawing-room; conven- ” tional rosily-liglited, pot-pourri-scented. I and congested by the elderly lodgers wlio i were reading . books, muttering over i crossword puzzles, or perpetrating fancy ; work. ‘j | Miss Eriesen. liohling silk for Mrs. J Perry to wind, looked up as Pat passed; ' | innocent Pat wondered at that smoulder j of resentment! ("Girl bates me; can’t j think why? I'll have to show her J j don t bite! ) It did- not strike her •that Miss Eriesen saw'her already as a ‘, petted daughter-in-law. I ‘So, of course, did madaine. . „ I want to ask you such a lot of | things, Patricia darling!” (To be continued dailv.) e 1