The LAST LAUGH

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20561, 12 March 1935, Page 14

The LAST LAUGH

By

WINIFRED GRAHAM

(Author of “A Wolf of : the Evenings,” "Tongues • in Trees,” "Experimental \ Child,” etc., eto. j

CHAPTER XV. Miss Woolfe got home, had a bath, redressed and was seated at the breakfast table wondering when 800 would come down. She wanted to surprise the girl by looking particularly calm, fresh and unruffled. She had chosen to wear a vivid emerald sports costume, which had been named on the bill “Heart of Lettuce.” It gave her a new and vivid personality, enhanced by the Chanel crystal buttons, which made a gay finish. She looked pleased with herself and prepared for anything. Presently Lou heard voices in the hall. Someone at the door was talking loudly—it sounded like an altercation. Then a maid came in. “If you please, miss, Mrs. King is asking to see you, but I said you were breakfasting, and I did not think you were able to see anyone so early. She is very persistent, and wished me to tell you it was most urgent.” “Of course; show her in.” Lou felt curious. She put the morning paper down by her plate and smiled welcomingly at the agitated woman, who pushed past the maid, hearing the words of admittance. “I told that girl you’d see me, miss— I felt sure you would. She was trying to keep me out. Perhaps I look a bit queer. I’ve had a shock!” “Sit down, Mrs. King. I’m sorry if anything is wrong.” “So wrong, miss, I feel as if the bottom had fallen out of the earth. I could say truthfully I wish the Lord had struck me dead before I lived to see this day!” Now she was applying the corner of her handkerchief to eyes already red with weeping. Mrss Woolfe noticed other signs of misery; her lips were twitching, her hands trembled, she seemed on the A'erge of a collapse. “If jt had pleased the Lord to strike “You have made that remark before. Please get on with your story. You were trying to say ...” She paused and smiled encouragingly. “Trying to tell the awful thing that has happened to my boy, Donald,” gasped Mrs. King. “I didn’t know you had a son.” “Didn’t know my Donald—what works up at the motor shop in the High Street? Why, miss, that’s where you get your petrol. Donald knows you well enough.” “Very possibly; but what about him? Out with the trouble, whatever it is.” “Trouble and more than that. I just can t think how such a thing could happen to a boy like him, who hae always been upright and a good son to me. He waen t strong as a child—he suffered from slight fits, but grew out of them and was just like other young men until this happened—this—‘this dreadful disgrabe. If only it had pleased the Lord—” She checked herself, remembering 'Miss Woolfe’s previous rebuff. “To put it in a few words, he’s robbed his employer. Heaven knows what he wanted the money for! He’s never been a gambler in his life, and he doesn’t drink, but he’s taken fifty pounds from the till.” “That’s bad!” “Bad? It is diabolical like a nightmare! I thought I was goinc ravine mad this morning, when Mr? Stubbs came and told me he had taxed Donald with the theft and the lad had confessed.” “Can’t he produce the money?” “No, he seems silly like; just keeps repeating, ‘lt’s gone, it’s gone’—frightened out of hie wits, I suppose, at being caught.” “What does Stubbs propose to do?” Mrs. King gave a big gulp. Her tears were flowing fast now. “He says if I can pay up the full amount by eight o’clock to-night, if the money is back in the till, he won’t give him in charge. But, if not, then my hoy will be arrested, labelled a thief for the remainder of his life. They will send him to prison! What chance has a gaol bird? Oh. it is enough to kill his mother, and I’m sure I’ll never survive it —and who will look after him? Anyway, he liae lost his place and character; these things get about at once. I will have to leave Hamedon, and goodness knows what Mr*?. Bingham will say when she hears!” ° Wild, uncontrolled sobs broke up the words. Lou felt she was getting rather tired of sobbing females. Last night 800 crouched at her feet, wee pi bitterly; now breakfast was to be” flavoured with more salt tears. “Stop crying,” said Miss Woolfe, and her voice arrested Mrs. King’s misery. She looked up between nose blowing and choking, a wet, weary spectacle. “I suppose you have come to ask me for this money. Perhaps you think those who are born to save are born to lend as well.” The tone was not unkind, but the «vords gave Mrs. King a sensation of complete despair. She felt sure Miss Woolfe would not take compassion on them in this hour of desolation, thinking, probably, that Donald deserved his fate. Then suddenly she made a rush forward and fell on her knees at Lou’s feet. “Oh miss—miss!—if you could onlv help by an advance, perhaps Stubbs would give us a little time if we could manage half. For the love of God, to save my boy!” Lou put out her large hand and raised the woman with an imperious gesture. ~‘‘r am var y ® ori 'y for you,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do.” Mrs. Kill" gave a cry of startled hope, her shoulders heaved, and she stared as ceivi’no-'?'l t bUnd person suddenly re- „,“?}*• nli .ss, if you would speak to Stubbs!—if you could ask him to "ive us a little time!” “I don’t want to argue with the man. 111 pay the amount this morning Just a plain statement, a sudden re--80 e» which seemed to open the very gates of heaven for Mrs. Kin*. Jf ever there was a Christian ladv!” cried Donald’s mother. “If ever an stepped from Heaven! God bless you, nnss. You will save a soul alive, for I ?.^ n 6 J? e «r *° y° u ie s a lesson for nte He 11 never tamper again with other folks’ belongings.” “Please don’t thank me. I hate beinrr shanked.” ° Mrs. King tried to say more, but Miss Woolfe would have none of it, and waved her away. “Go and tell Stubbs to hold his tongue and I will call in and settle the matter with him, but only on condition that he keeps it quiet. If he wants his money, he must not talk aud ruin the boy.”

“I’m afraid, miss, a good deal has leaked out already. 1 hope it won't reach Mr. Corfield’s ears.” “Why Mr. Corfield specially ?” “He thinks a lot of Donald. He praised him no end at the sports that were held in Mistletoe Park. You see Mr. Corfield gave away tile prizes and my boy came up three times, which shows he is athletic, although lie was weak when a child. Then I shouldn’t like Mr. James to hear of it, either.” Lou learnt forward with a sudden jerk. “Who is—Mr. James?” she asked. “One of the chauffeurs at Mistletoe Park. He has been wonderfully kind to my boy.” By this time Mrs. King had backed towards the door, her eyes still fixed upon her benefactress in reverent and adoring gratitude. “Tell me about James,” said Lou, in a voice that had taken on a new note of interest. “He goes to the shop for petrol—Mr. Corfield always deals locally—and Donald said this new chauffeur was one of the ‘goody’ sort, had been a Sunday school tea-cher in Sydney and sung in the choir there.” “That sounds very nice.” Miss Woolfe spoke encouragingly. Mrs. King showed pleasure at being detained. “Mr. James took a real fancy to my Donald. I was proud that the boy liked being with him; you see, I felt it was such an uplifting influence. Now, if this dreadful thing gets known, Mr. James may give him the go-by, and that would be so bad for Donald. When good people shun the guilty, it sends them to the devil quicker than anything.” “Yes, it would be a pity if Donald <rot into the wrong set after what has happened. Take my advice, Mrs. King, keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.” “I will, miss, and I’ll send Donald along to thank you.” “I said I didn’t want to be thanked.” Then, as if a sudden thought struck her, Miss Woolfe continued. “But I should like to see Donald. Perhaps I might get out of him what he has done with the fifty pounds.” “Oh, if only he would tell you! Do try, miss. Sometimes it is easier for a stranger. If he isn’t altogether bad, he will be grateful to you till the end of his life.” CHAPTER XVI. Donald came, shamefaced but thankful, to call on Miss Woolfe. In his own simple language he thanked her shyly, but with a greater show of feeling even than she had expected. His final remark specially touched her. “I’m so glad, for mother’s sake. Poor mother, she took on awfully. I never saw her like that before, and to know it was my doing. . .” “Sit down, Donald,” she said. He obeyed. “I want to ask you something. Now listen, this is very important.” “I know what you are going to ask.” She raised her eyebrows. He continued quickly: “I took it right enough.” “Yes, we know that, but what I want to find out is what you did with it. You’ve refused to tell your mother, and it troubles her dreadfully. Why not tell me, now that so much is known? Be a man and own up. I can help you more if I know everything. I feel I have a right to your confidence. I claim it as my reward for saving you from the police.” Donald gazed at her with his mouth slightly gaping. She noticed that his hands worked, fingers and head shook. Suddenly the reason of his silence burst out. It came with a little cry, J'ke the moan of a wounded animal that does not understand pain. “Because —I don’t know!” “You don’t know ?” Having begun, his shyness passed. Confidence poured out. He wa«s no longer tongue-tied. “I took the money right enough,” he explained. “I know that. I remember taking it. I felt I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to steal, but I had to, I I just had to.” “Something drove you on, something made up do it outside yourself. Was that so?” “Yes.” “Now can’t you remember who told or made you do this dreadful thing?” He put his hand to his forehead. He was frowning deeply. “The moon seemed to say it to me when I was in bed. The sun in the morning said it too. Everything said it all the time. Then an opportunity came. The till was left open, unguarded for a few minutes. I collared the lot and bolted.” “Where did you go? Try to remember where you went.” “Along the road. I ran hard. I forget what happened after that. I think I went I went to sleep in a field, and when I woke up someone had stolen the money. Yes, that was it—someone took the fifty pounds when I was asleep.” Miss Woolfe shook her head. “No good telling such a slim story, no one will believe it. Better say nothin^.” “But it’s true—true.” “The truth is often not believed,” murmured Miss Woolfe. soothingly, “but, Donald, I believe you.” He started forward, devouring her with devoted eyes. Two words °broke from him: “Do you ” “I do.” She took his hand. It was clammy. She patted it with her warm, firm fin* I hat s enough; we need sav no more. You have done your best to explain. Now be a good fellow and go back to your mother. Tell her I have settled it all with Stubbs; no fear of an arrest.” “But they won’t take me back at the shop. I. shall never be allowed through those doors again.” “You can hardly expect that, but trv and help Mrs. King in the house. You are a strong lad. Don’t hang about moping. You can find plenty of jobs to do at home, I expect. Perhaps tomorrow I may find you some work here, either in the garden or the garage. One thing you must guard againstT, don’t be idle.” Lou watched him go, a less dejected figure than the one which had arrived, evidently expecting a severe lecture. She lighted a cigarette and went to the terrace just as Clem came in. He said, as if in mock apology: “I have been bullying Boo!” We have almost had our first quarrel.” 800 followed quickly. “What should you think he has threatened to do? He says he is going this very day to get a special license. He wants me to marry him at once. Isn’t it absurd? Try to put some sense into his head, Aunt Lou.”

Lou laid her hand on Clem’s shoulder and give it an affectionate pressure. “The child is worth waiting for,” she murmured. “I believe I know what is really in her mind. No girl likes to have it said of her that she rushed a rich man into proposing to her, tore into church and got the ring on before he had time to breathe!” “So it's that wretched money again!” Clem muttered, with a dogged look. 800 rather liked the expression, with its faint threatening of temper. She thought if they were like other lovers it would be delightful to tease him sometimes, for the sheer joy of making it up afterwards. ‘‘Always that bugbear, money! Of course I know what a small part it plays in Boo's calculations, but, since we are on the subject, I’ll tell you what I’ve done. An idea came to me last uight.” His arm was linked in Lou’s now, and with his other hand he caught the girl's fingers and held them tightly. She loved the feel of his hand. As if he were going to say something private, he drew them both into a small adjoining room. This room had various names. It had been called the study, the boudoir, the den. Lou christened it her bolt-hole. Clem closed the door. “Now we are talking of money, I want to explain some of my feelings about it. Have you the patience to listen ?” Lou looked at him curiously. She saw excitement in his eyes, wondering what he was going to tell them. “Fire away,” she said. “We are all attention.” “I didn't sleep much last night. 1 lav awake telling myself I was really engaged. The great thing had happened. Soon I should be a married man. I felt thankful T had something to offer my future wife—yes. I thanked God for riches, because all the wealth in the world would not be too much to lay at Bouquet’s feet. I like her full name, it is such a beautiful one. I must call her by it sometimes.” Ho paused, looking from Lou’s puzzled brown face to the flushed cheeks and china-blue eyes of the girl he loved. “Jt came over me how dreadful it would be if, by chance, I smiffed out quite suddenly before the wedding day.” “Oh, Clem, don’t say *uch horrid things!” whispered 800, putting her hands quickly over her eyes as though to shut out the dreadful vision conjured up by his words. “But any of us might go, at any moment,” he continued lightly; “old or young; one never knows.” Lou instinctively exchanged a swift glance with the gill, who had sunk rather limply into a chair. “It was a will leaving everything to my beloved Bouquet, Bouquet Blenheim, who will soon be changing that name for mine. Then I got witnesses who were not mentioned among the legatees. I left most of my servants something, I'm so fond of them all; but James, who is quite a new arrival and a temporary secretary, who is coining daily because my permanent one Is away ill. witnessed "my signature. I explained what it was. I thought it might seem queer to them, my being in such a hurry. James made me quite a speech. He said he could not help noticing that I had been a great deal with the young lady from Corner Close, and might he offer his respectful congratulation*. He really seemed to mean what he said. I believe he was genuinely glad.” The tii 11 figure, looking more masculine to-day than ever, moved to the door, and 800 followed. Glancing back with a strained expression,she said to Clem : “If you dare to die!” Then she tried to smile, but her lips were twisted und her face was full of fear. Clem replied lightly that she could be sure he wanted to live ages and ages, if only they could always be together. Then he ran after her, caught her in his arms, and whispered: “Darling, I believe I really frightened you. I had no idea you were such a sensitive baby!” He watched her as she followed Miss Woolfe upstairs. He thought: “T always seem to be doing the wrong thing. Most girls would have been pleased. I wonder if she’s superstitions? Anyway, I’ll never mention mv will again.” (To be continued daily.)