The LAST LAUGH

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20556, 6 March 1935, Page 14

The LAST LAUGH

(Author of "A Wolf of the Evenings,” “Tongues in Tree:,” “Experimental Child,” etc., eto.

By

WINIFRED GRAHAM

CHAPTER VL The word was hardly audible, but that name “Jim” seemed to embody in her mind oceans of fear and horror. It blotted out the beauty of the landscape, making Mistletoe Park like some ghastly trap, into which she entered hand in hand with Clem —those two caught in a horrible turn of Fate’s wheel. “Yes, kid,” replied the man. “Don’t give it away ” The final words were hissed at her through clenched teeth. Jim! The name seemed to bounce up •oughly from the marble pavement under her feet, like a hard ball hitting her in the mouth. This man, whom she had. last seen snoring on a sofa at The Elms, was here, in the plot, working for Gussie. Perhaps lie had been sent to spy on her, this confederate who was considered too vile to meet Lou. It took the girl a moment to regain control. She wondered if she looked odd as Clem came out smiling, his face so radiant he hardly appeared the same person as the rather bashful young man announced at the bishop’s lunch. “What do you think of her ?” he asked, looking at the car. “She is—worthy of you!” Bouquet replied, as if that were the highest praise. “I love this beautiful clear blue, tt could not have had a nicer colour.” Clement was amused. So like a girl to be taken with the colour! With an air of proprietorship not lost on Jim, Clement helped her into the low seat, while the grew shadow in livery retired to the background. With a roar the car shot down the drive, under the long lime avenue with the thickly clustered mistletoe boughs, beneath a kind, smiling sky. “The snake pit is marvellous,” declared Bouquet, as they whirled through the massive gates, which opened wide to the country thoroughfare. “A lovely hole for two nice little snakes, and how smoothly she glides!” “I thought you would approve of her,” 6aid Clement, with quiet satisfaction. “If the serpent in the Bible was more subtle than all the beasts of the field. I should say this snake, beats any beast of the road!” She thought how Gussie would have approved of this remark. He loved bringing in scripture; be said it always sounded so well read. Bouquet felt Clement’s arm press against hers. She sent out some subtle intox : -9fltion, which seemed to come from her like the perfume of a flower. Just as this boy knew all the expert things about the ear’s gadgets, so she was an expert in tearing the reins of the heart, setting the pulses in motion—cracking thin ice till it warmed to a furnace, so that men forgot everything but her very blue eyes. To-day she decided she must be careful. so talked generalities, making them sound like personalities. Occasionally she laughed at him. as if he were beneath her notice. Then, just when he thought he was being ridiculed, she would draw him back into favour with a silver thread, a thread of quicksilver charged with magnetism, that danced in the sunlight. As the car sped on Bouquet brought up the subject that troubled her mind in casual conversation. “I was thinking,” she said, “how well your man’s pale grey livery went with the clear blue of this car. Have you had him long?” “You mean James,” replied Clement. “Xo. he is a new chauffeur. He came with marvellous credentials and seems one of the world’s treasures. The servants can't speak highly enough of him. He appears to be ready to do anything for anybody. Quite an inspiring person to have about the place.” “All forgeries,” thought Bouquet, “those marvellous credentials! Jim would, be like that, part of the game to ingratiate himself with the staff and win an excellent character. How ably he was playing his part, with his tongue in his thin cheek—that hollow olieek like a skeleton’s!” She knew the kind of refined voice he could put on when lie pleased, and the anecdotes he would tell of grand families in which he had been a favoured retainer. “Would you like to spin on a bit longer,” he said, “or stop at an old house which was once a ducal mansion and is now a hotel?” “It would be nice to see it, but those places are really rather sad. Once they were full of people who knew how to live. Now all the nice human rooms have to be let out in suites. The whole idea seem* rather ugly, doesn’t it?” “I suppose so, if houses feel. Still, vou can hardly blame those old families for shedding their white elephants.” * Anyway, the motorists decided on a visit to that relic of past grandeur, with it* somewhat forlorn air of being imposed upon by an unsympathetic generation. Clement ordered tea in an alcove, above which the handsome carvings were partiallv veiled bv long, beaded reed curtains. Dotted about the hall, sham parrots poised unsteadily on brightlypainted hoops, as if slightly inebriated. Just behind them an artificial canary .vas o-ivincr forth shrill mechanical notes from a golden cage. Bouquet found the whole place distinctlv depressing. Yet her companion seemed blissfully unaware of these incongruities. He was looking at her, and nothin* else mattered. To him the hotel bad become an enchanted palace. He was living in the light and rapture of new sensations, fresh, vivifying, delightful! A certain girl, who was saving to the Waiter. “China tea for me, and buttered toast,”’ had changed this world to a warden of enchantment. ° “China or Indian for you, sir? asked a foreign voice, which seemed drawing Clement out of some magic dream. Yes that was it, magic danced round Bouquet. To be with her was a miracle, creating a \ ision of life a* life should be, pulsating like some wonderful flowing Suddenly stagnation had been left in the rear, boredom and stiff bores were no longer capable of infesting this earth. They were swept away into the depths of a distant sea by a small pale hand, which drew off a glove from its fellow and then lay near his like some tempting blossom he longed to pick. “When I was a small child,” he said. “I always wSnted the flowers that grew in public parks or hotel gardens because mv nurse told me I mustn't have them.” ‘“What made you think of that just now ?” asked Bouquet. “Your five fingers. They are such nice, slim, pink-nailed one*, they reminded me of the flowers I wasn’t allowed to touch.” Suddenly he laid his hand over liers, as he added under his breaths

“I’ve been longing to do this!” She felt the nervous tremors which ran through his palm. Hi«s was a hand alive with emotion. She realised, almost with a sense of shock, how easy he was. She had made no effort to draw him on. Ho just toppled into her lap. as it were, until she half trembled at the fact. It was such a painfully simple conquest. “Look here,” he said, after a pause. “I can’t go back and spend the evening alone. I should have rabies, or brain fever or something. Why shouldn’t we celebrate your birthday in London?” Bouquet feigned wide-eyed amazement, acting the simple unsophisticated girl to perfection, as she retorted: “You're joking!” “I’m not; I mean it. We’ll do a show, dine and supper afterwards. Oh, 800, let’s live!” “But what about my aunt?” “Must she come V* “She wouldn’t. I know that. Aunt Lou isn’t built for the gooseberry stunt. She hates making a third. She likes to have a man all to herself. Didn’t you see how she was getting on with the bishop at lunch?” “I saw nothing; I was looking at you. Oh, think what a heap of things we could do together every day, you and I, mv dear! We could cram our days with—each other.” “Are you not taking a lot for granted?” “Perhaps. I expect you think it is dreadful of me, but when you want a thing terribly you’ve got to rush it, fight for it—be like the snake-pit, a devil for speed! ” It seemed to Bouquet that he glowed as if sunlight came round him. His whole face looked transformed. He had thrown himself into a vortex of desire. He wanted to enjoy, perhaps for the first time since coming into his immense fortune, all that life held and could give. The fact that Bouquet said so little seemed spurring him on. Evidently lie liked to do the talking. “Why shouldn’t we be playmates?” he urged, afraid to use a stronger word, though he would like to have said “lovers.” With an effort he remembered they had only met a few hours ago, at a quarter to two, to be exact. Now it was just five minutes past five. He held his breath, for his heart beat so fiercely lie couldn’t go on speaking. His eyes pleaded with her to answer. “All right, playmate.” she said. “If E can work Aunt Lon, I’ll come with you to-night for a rollicking evening in Town. It would be lovely. I do adore pleasure, and fortunately my chaperone is fairly modern. I don’t think she wou'd be heartless enough to stop me having such a glorious birthday.” Clement leant back in his chair and gave a queer, excited sigh. Suddenly his muscles grew limp, as if he had been oddly strung up to so great a pitch that ho had to relax when the fear that 800 would reject his suggestion had passed. He couldn’t have borne a refusal; the thought of being alone that night had become a horror. CHAPTER VII. Miss Woolfe dined well, for her large frame, which never ran to fat, needed the sustenance of meat on the raw side. When she had finished she went to the op,'ll window, and the smell of the night came to her nostrils like a call. She stood very still, with her muscles rigid, staring—staring into the darkness. She was remembering at that moment that she had her man’s costume in a locked box upstairs, the one she always went out in when “on a job.” It was rather tantalising that Gussie had said: “No adventures except this big one—mind that, Lou. None of your pranks, however your lingers itch. It wouldn’t be worth the risk.” She moved restlessly from window to window, then went out on a balcony, and leant over it, her fa'*e well forward, as if peering at something just beyond her reach. Suddenly she dashed back into the room and rang her bell. As the maid who answered it came in, Lou flopped into a large armchair and let her head fall back on a cushion. “I have one of my severe headaches coming on,” she said. “I shall go to bed at once, and please see that I am not disturbed. Don’t call me in the morning until 1 ring.” “I am sorry, miss,” c«iiic in a tone of real concern. “Can I get you anything? Have you tried aspirin?” “Thank you. I have my own special remedy which I always keep for these occasions. All I ask is absolute quiet, so do not let anyone come into the wing near my room. The slightest sound disturbs me. Good-night, Jane.” Miss Woolfe rose wearily, and the maid watched her mounting the staircase in slow steps. Every now and again she pressed her 1 to her forehead. “ Poor lady, she does seem bad,*' thought the sympathetic girl. “I’ll go and tell the others to be very quiet. I know what it is. I used to suffer from headaches myself.” Upstairs Lou paced lier room like a caged animal. She was having a desperate fight with herself. Then suddenly, with overpowering force, the real Lou burst out like a prisoner from bonds. It gripped this apparently civilised woman by the throat, shaking her in a vice, creeping over every particle of her body as if the fibre changed under some mighty drivingforce. With quick movements she went to a box and unlocked it, her hand very steady, and tlie lock was stiff and took some manoeuvring. As she opened the lid her eyes fell on the man’s clothing, worn so often that each garment seemed part of herself. Just for a moment she fancied those clothes, folded away, looked like a shroud. “As if the old Lou were dead,” said her brain, which woke to wild activity as she pounced on the things and drqw them out. “Come into the light—you are wanted!” She felt as if the words ang out in the silence, though she made no sound as she dressed with amazing haste. without stopping to think again she went to the window and slid down a stack pipe, dropping on to the soft lawn beneath. Her feet, like the pads of a wolf, stole noiselessly away, making for a distant gate which led to some fields and was seldom used. 1 At last site found herself near some fencing which elie knew was the boundary of Mistletoe Park. To vault the fence was a small matter. As she dropped lightly to (he ground on l the other side she startled a herd o£ deer,

which scattered, frightened by this dark noiseless thing so suddenly ill tlicir midst. She soon discovered that an upper window had been left open—perhaps for air, but more probably forgotten by some careless servant in a hurry to off. It was near a convenient magnolia tree, which clung to the old walls. It meant nothing to Lou to scale the boughs. A moment later she had swarmed up with the speed of St. John and slipped into the house. The door of a bedroom stood open. She peeped in, feeling it was the room where Clement slept. The bed was turned down. She could see a man’s dressing gown, with black and gold Chinese pyjamas, hung over a high-backed chair, while slippers to match lay on the thick carpet. She walked in boldly, glanced at the bed, saying; “May you sleep well, Clem,” then made her way to an adjoining bathroom where a large black marble bath stood by an equally imposing safe. That was what she had wanted to.find! She had her tools, and, quickly locking the door to the bedroom with an almost complete sensation of safety, she knelt down to her task. Outside owls hooted to each other from tree to tree. Otherwise Mistletoe Park appeared wrapped in deathlike silence; but perhaps this was because its walls were unusually thick. Lou’s trained ears, generally so quick, tailed to hear, as she worked, the footsteps of a man slowly making his way up the broad staircase to the master’s bedroom. (To be continued daily.)