CLOUDED NOON

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20542, 18 February 1935, Page 14

CLOUDED NOON

By

BASIL HAYE

CHAPTER Xll.—(Continued). “Haven’t you?” Her violet eyes were Innocently surprised, and looked across at Harvey Stay re. talking just then with her mother. She obviously referred to him as she asked John a low-voiced question. “Has the other one?” “Rather large piles. I think.” “Yes, he looks it. I don’t like him. I prefer you.” “That’s very nice of you. Miss Sandra.” What a queer, outspoken child, this sister of Tony Carslake! A child —that’s all she was, but self-possessed, matter-of-fact beyond her years, and in such startling contrast to her beauty, which burnt with a pure golden flame. Alongside her, the sophisticated loveliness of Lena, the brunette charm of Miss Vane became insignificant, commonplace. He must have been interested in her, even if she had not been Tony’s sister. But that relationship added fuel to the fire of his feelings as he watched her, talked with her, listened as presently she chatted more freely with the others. She reminded him, as the meal progressed, more and more of Tony. A gesture of her fingers, the way she would hold her head a little on one side—with a natural perkiness—as if movement had been arrested by some sense of danger—that last was an old trait John remembered in Tony. It was sometimes all he could do to prevent himself from speaking about Tier brother, how lie had known Tony, what they had been to each other in those unforgettable days of gas and shell, blood-lust and death-trap,- when men hallowed the horrors of existence with sacrifice and friendship. But he couldn’t tell her—not yet, anyhow. He would have to feel his way. And he suddenly realised that it was very foolish to go off the deep end in this way over such a child. In any case, she seemed to lose all interest in him when dinner was at an end. She talked for a while with Lena and Harvey Stayre, then seemed suddenly to become great friends with Miss Vane, and disappeared arm in arm with the latter. Burden, meantime, for politeness sake and also because she was Tony’s mother, was compelled to listen to Mrs. Carslake’s petulant review of her worries. She didn’t usually betray them in this way to strangers, she assured him, but he really wasn’t quite that, was he? After all, Herr Weber had brought them together, and Herr Weber was a good friend of hers, had done much to help her. And Mr. Burden was going to make Wienthal such a wonderful place, Herr Weber said. He was so evidently a man of the world, too, and of experience. He would understand her position, above all her feelings and anxieties as a mother. Bad enough that Seliloss Rabenhof had 'become no more than a pension in these terrible times. It just paid that way, anyhow, so one mustn’t grumble. She was content for herself. But there was Sandra. He had seen her. Was she the kind of girl to be buried away out here ? And what prospect was there for her? Wouldn’t the mother of a girl like that be worried when the time came when she must be thinking of marriage? That night, for the first time, John thought of marriage as a real possibility. More than that. It seemed called for here. Fate had taken him by the hand and opened that barred door at last. Tony’s sister. Every reason here to lift the curtain from the past, tell Sandra and her mother who he was. And, married to Sandra, the past could then be buried afresh in the happiness of the future.

CHAPTER XIH. For Remembrance. John was convinced he had found the end of Eric Branscombe by the time, next morning, he had awakened to hot coffee and rolls. The pure mountain air poured in like rich, invigorating wine through the open windows of his bedroom—obviously the chief guest chamber in the Schloss. Through the open windows there drifted in, too, rich, above a subdued clamour of animal life, a voice in song. He hardly needed to look down to know that the voice was Sandra’s; the song she sang was in German. Bare-legged, bare-armed, her red-gold curls reflected the glancing rays of the sun as she moved to and fro. For a time he watched her lithe, graceful movements, the vigour of her youth, the gleam of her white, satinsleek skin as her hands flung food to the fowls, or she crossed the yard to stroke and caress the horses a man was harnessing to a heavy cart. It happened, while she leaned a cheek against a horse’s long, black face, that she looked up at the Schloss. He waved down to her, and saw her smile and wave in response. He was out in the courtyard a quarter of an hour later, looking for her, but he was forestalled. Stayre was already with her. Burden saw him carrying a great pail of milk from the large, dark cowshed; the breezy roar of his laughter seemed to fill the morning, and it certainly .filled Burden with what he was quick to realise was a most stupid jealousy. “Back to the only life worth living!” Stayre cried. “Say, John, you can go on buying and selling land, if you like. Let me live on it, as I set out to do down under. Better than all your towns and complications! Take it from me!” “I wouldn’t rob you, Harvey. There's loads of land if you fancy the simple life. Anyhow, you look well, coming home with the milk.” “I believe you’re jealous!” Sandra’s violet eyes glowed with laughter. “You shouldn’t have overslept. But, perhaps, that’s through wearing pink pyjamas “Say, how d’you come to know the colour ?” Stayre was grinning as he asked the question. “How do I know that yours are all • yellow and green like a crossword puzzle?” she asked. “I laid them out last night. I have to do most of the work in this place, you see, to look after the guest rooms and that sort of thing, Mr. Stayre. Very little time to stop around and talk here, with so much to do. So »if you want any breakfast to-day ” She began to lead the way towards the house, when Lena and Miss Vane appeared with Sandra’s mother. Sandra hurried off in the direction of a huge kitchen, a vista of white-scrubbed tables and shining saucepans, having taken the milk-pail from Stayre. John noticed how, glancing back over her shoulder, she looked directly at him with a provocative little smile, before closing the door behind her. It suggested almost that she wanted him to know that she would have liked to stay, but could not. The smile had not escaped Lena, he discovered, when he was alone with her a few minutes later. “Kidnapping, John ... at your time of life?” she asked in her soft, sophisticated voice. “ Kidnapping?” “ Violets for remembrance, of course!

I saw little Big Eyes giving you the wire, John! Really, you're coming on more, rapidly than I should have thought {vossible.” “It’s too early in the day, Lena, to start solving riddles,” John frowned, embarrassed. He couldn’t —or wouldn’t—see tlie “It isn’t your fault, John. You can’t help being . . . rather nice, with the women all after you. What I can’t j understand is how you’ve contrived to escape so long.” “The change of air, Lena, is having rather a curious effect on you,” he said evenly. “I’m just loving every minute of it, so far.” “What do you mean by . . . ‘Women’?” “There’s myself!” Holding up one finger, she added another to it. • “There’s that sweetly devoted secretary-girl of yours! Now there’s this little Carslake baby! Arid, of course, her mother —tlie languishing looks she was giving you last night ” “The mountain air is getting into your blood, Lena. You’re talking very wildly this morning.” “I admit it. John. Any woman in love with you needs to be . . . wild.” “Lena . . .” John looked around to make certain they were alone. He felt that this was a good opportunity for him to straighten matters out between them. “I’d hate to hurt you, Lena,” he proceeded, awkwardly, “but I do wish you’d get it out of your head that you’re in love with me.” “It isn’t a question of getting it out of my head, John. Women don’t love with their heads. If they did, there wouldn’t be so many unhappy marriages. And I suppose you’re going to tell me that I’m to expect—nothing—from you, John ?’* she went on with a sudden smile. “Don’t, Lena! Jt makes a fellow feel mch a cad —” he interrupted her almost diarply. “Oh, why?” “I’m so obviously not the marrying »ort, Lena ” “Rot. You’ve made up your mind to aiarry, and you know it. I saw it come nto your eyes last night while you were ooking at that little Austrian girl.” “What nonsense, Lena! You know, ►ve’ll get no further —talking this way. It is my mistake, for discussing it. But [ did want to try and make you underitand ” “Don’t worry, John. I do —quite well. [ understood—before we left Loring, for that matter. I’ve read it specially in the way you’ve kept Harvey Stayre like a brick wall between you and me.” “Harvey’s a good fellow. One of the best, Lena.” “Think so?” Her sable-black eyes studied him shrewdly. Her finely chiselled earmined lips had a quizzical expression. She seemed to hesitate, as if pondering the words she should use. “A man should be best judge of a map, John, naturally,” she said at length. ‘*l suppose you know a good fellow when you see one. Anyhow, you’ve taken Harvey on as a business friend in a mighty hurry. That isn’t quite your usual way, is it? Still, I expect you’d a reason ” “Why, you know it, Lena. He had the right sort of introduction ” “And that’s all?” “What else, Lena?” Without speaking at once, she began to move along the terrace on which they were standing. John followed by hei side, puzzled, looking down at her with curious eyes. She stopped, and looker 1 up at him in turn, white fingers brushing a wind-blown leaf from tlie aria of hL coat. “I can’t tell you —exactly, John. I’ve just a feeling—a strong one —that you’re a bit afraid of him ” John’s laugh was a little scornful. He shook his head. “I can’t remember evei being afraid of any man in my life, Lena Not even of my father—when he nearh thrashed tlie life out of me at eigh years of age for stealing apples ” “Incurable,” she laughed, “you’re stih stealing—hearts! But to go back to Harvey Stayre ” No need to go back to him in speed He was there before them in person. “Glad to hear you suggest that, Lena! he said. “I need company'. The old lady here has the weeps this morning, so I’\ left Miss Vane, doing what she can t play the sympathetic listener. And can’t find my' little madonna of the milk pail anywhere.” “Hullo?” he laughed, as John began t. move away. “Are you going to try you luck there?” “I’m going to find Miss Vane,” Join answered a trifle shortly. “1 must have a talk with her before that fellow Webei comes for us. We mustn’t forget. Harvey, that we’re here primarily on business.” He was glad of that excuse to gel away, partly with a sense of relief, although with a feeling of apprehension as well as relief, that Lena really did at last understand how impossible her earlier idea was, and that she seemed to be taking the realisation quite well. His apprehension perhaps was less well founded. But he had been startled by the keen woman’s intuition which had shown her a sense of something more than mere business between Stayre and himself. He tried to forget this when, after finding Miss Vane, he and she settled down to discuss together some vital points on which they had to be prepared to bargain with Herr Weber and his Austrian friends when they turned up. When at length they came, Stayre joined them, and they started out in a couple of cars to make a tour of the small town. Burden gave himself over entirely to the details of the transformation he had in mind. In the syndicate offices lie went into plans for the new principal buildings, rejecting this architect’s design, or having another one modified. He was insistent on retaining the Tyrolean atmosphere as much as possible, and preserving the natural loveliness of the charming spot. “No need for business to murder beauty!” he said once, smiling across at Miss Vane meaningly. “And even a goldmine may be made to hide its ugliness underground.” And this would be a goldmine. Burden had realised that from the very first moment the idea had been mooted to him. Wienthal, poor and unrecognised, was shabby to-day. Richly robed and backed by wealth, with all the publicity wealth could afford, Wienthal would in a few years’ time become one of the most fashionable health and gambling resorts in Europe. It had the advantage of not only a summer season, but unusual possibilities for winter sports on The fact that it held such promise was proved as much as anything by the fact that two important Continental syndicates had made a bid for it only a day or so after Burden had secured the option, and even now —as Herr Weber pointed out before they parted company—political strings were being pulhrii in Vienna to prevent the deal receiving vifficial authority. (To be continued daily.)