"PAINTED BUTTERFLIES,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 16 March 1932, Page 7

"PAINTED BUTTERFLIES,”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

CH APTE R XL V. —Continued. Frank’s mother .turned an amazed

face towards the young girl with the set lips and pain-darkened eyes. “Going back —but —what will Frank say? What is your reason?” she asked, speaking rapidly in little disjointed jerks. ' They had reached a rustic seat, and both sat down, facing towards each other, the one woman in the mellow, sheltered autumn of her days, the other iii the glorious springtime of her youth ,a youth that yet held a greater insight into the deeps both of life and love that the woman whose path had been man-smoothed from her birth upwards. “Lady YarcUey, I must say what I have come to say quickly, if I am to catch my train,” said Jennifer, still in the cold, passive voice that gave no clue to her feelings. Without giving Frank’s mother time to reply, she huiried on, “It is only that I have decided to break off our engagement. I am not marrying Frank after all.’ Curiously enough, instead of the wave of thankfulness that she might have been expected to feel, Lady Yardley was conscious only of a feeling of keen resentment. Her son—“only that I have decided to break off our engagement.” What did this girl of the people, without a penny of her own, mean to infer? Swallowing her anger, she asked, in a voice that might have chilled an. iceberg, “May one inquire why? And does Frank know?” Jennifer’s voice was just as icy, but from a very different cause, as she 10 plied, ignoring the first and answering the second question. “Frank does not know, Lady Yardley.” Oh, the redness of the roses, then passionate scene, their silent pleading for her to choose the path they symbolised rather than the thorn-crowned heights, the hard white way of sacrifice. Frank, of course, should have been the first to have been told. Jennifer admitted that; had fought out _ the whole issue during the sleepless nights that had followed Adda Creighton’s visit. She was being an arrant coward in shirking the facing of Frank, but, though the thought of those for whom she was giving him up sustained her during his absence, she knew that, when he took her into his arms and kissed her in his tender fashion, she would forget everything in the outrush of her own love to him, and all her resolutions would be in vain. “But —this is a very serious thing. Have your feelings towards my son changed, or is this decision the result lof a lovers’ quarrel?” . _ , A pitiful smile twisted Jennifer s mouth as she shook her head. < * \y e pave never wasted time m quarrelling, Lady Yardley, and there never will be another man in my life. There is something in me and in Frank —I knew it directly 1 saw him, and he knew it, too. We shall always belong to each other.” The flush on the sott-Iv-rounded cheeks, the eyes large and bright, reflecting an undoubted mwaid glory, touched Lady Yardley deeply. Moving nearer to the tense, rigid young form, she slipped a kindly arm around Jennifer’s waist. “Then why, Jennifer?” she asked softly, every motherly instinct in hei roused to its fullest; at that moment , she was very near to loving the girl against whom she had tried so nard to steel her heart. “I cannot tell you, Lady Yardley, was the strange, unsatisfactory reply. “Would you please give this letter to Frank?” she asked, taking an envelope from her handbag, and giving it to Lady Yardley. “I would have posted it to him, but I thought it only rio-ht for his mother to be told as well. ’ ’ The thoughtful cous-derat-on oi her 'feelings m me matter, touched Lady Yarcliey. ‘•Besides, Frank had told me so much about Oversley that 1 feit i must come, if only for an hour,” finished Jennifer, wistfully, fidgetting with the ciasp of her bag as she spOKe, in ease Lady Yardley should see the tears in her eyes. “Lf course, Frank will rush up to town immediately, so you might just as well stay,” urged his mother, thinking of flic dinner that would be spoiled,' and of the long night journey tfiat he would probably take in Ins twoscafter, driving himseif. “The letter will explain why it will be useless to follow me,” said fer, rising as she spoke. <‘ y 0 far as I am -•concerned, this parting is only ‘au revoir’ not goodbye in any final sense, for 1 do not intend to lose sight of you, ’ said Lady Yardley, graciously, as she kissed Jennifer warmly on both cheeks. “You are very kind,” replied Jennifer, feeling that, had things gone well, she would have found it very easy to have loved Frank’s mother. But when the peculiar charm of hei immediate presence was removed, and the time drew near for Frank s arrival, Lady Yardley had reached the stage of deeming Jennifer an extremely sensible girl, typical of her generation in refusing to be burdened with responsibilities which she felt might become irksome onc-e their novelty had staled.

In the midst of her reflections, . a maid came to tell her that Miss Creighton would like to speak to her on the telephone. “Is that yon, dear? This is Ade.a. and I'm at the station. My stupid car has broken down. I was driving myself to a little midnight stunt party that Dickie Denton is giving in his cottage at Torquay to a few of us. But the garage man says it’s no good—he’ll have to wait till to-rnorrow for some spare part he hasn’t got before the thing can be repaired. I was won-

BY MRS PATRICK MaeGILL. Author of “Dancers in the Dark,” “The Ukelele Girl,” “The Flame of Life,” etc.

dering if—” “But, of course, darling,” Lady Yardley dashed in eagerly. She did not know that she was giving stale news when she continued, dropping her voice cautiously, “I’ve got something most interesting to tell you about the little Lome girl. You’ll be tlie first to hear it. Frank is not due home for another hour. I’ll send the car along at once for you.” “Oh, is Frank coming home to-night? How topping! Luckily I’ve got a new Elise frock with me,” chirped the would-be fresh, gay voice at the other end of the line. It was an ironic fact that Jennifer had designed the frock to which she alluded. Twenty minutes later she was sittingin the rose-garden on the same seat that Jennifer had occupied, her eyes carefully widened with surprise, her whole expression one of bland innocence as Lady Yardley told her -of what had taken place between Jennifer and herself. “She would not give a reason for breaking it off, but of course it may be contained in the letter that I am to give to Frank. Girls are very extraordinary these days,” said toe clearly puzzled woman in a slow, thoughtful voice. “Really —it sounds ridiculous, of course- —but, do you know, Adela, I actually got the impression, just at first, that she did not consider Frank a good enough match,” and though -Lady Yardley laughed, there was a shade of chagrin in its note as she made the admission. “Of course, she is very conceited; that Elise woman makes a most ridiculous fuss over her. What is she going to do, do you know —Jennifer Lome, I mean ?” asked Adela Creighton, with seeming nonchalance that concealed a great anxiety. Jt would not suit her book at all for Jennifer to remain in London. If she did that, she —Adela —would have to use the influence she knew that she possessed with Madame Elise, to have Jennifer dismissed. “Oil, she is going abroad, I believe. She said something about having a friend, a film actor in Hollywood, who had got her a contract to design dresses for his company. She is catching the boat to Paris to-night, and putting in two days there before starting for Los Angeles.” ‘‘ I see. ’ ’ , Adela Creighton was looking into herown eyes in the pocket mirror which aided the powdering of her nose. Lady Yardley, gazing at her roses, did not see the exultation leap into them, making their blue brighter, and their whites as clear as those of a little child. The astute Frenchwoman, reading between the lines, had herself anticipated her “star” client’s move regarding Jennifer. “She would not stand for it, as they say, my dear,” she told Jennifer, with a strange savage bitterness in voice and manner. Like most people who got to know Jennifer Lome intimately, she loved her, and hated having to let her go. “It is, of course, the acme of folly to travel at any time; on the other hand, those who never budge from their own country are only fit for the madhouse,” Madame Elise told Jennifer, as she laid an arm about her shoulders. ‘ ‘ Mix with the world, ego something of great cities, enlarge your relationships, and, believe me, my dear, sweethearts will only occupy part, not the whole canvas of life for you,” she concluded, giving the forlorn, . heart-sick girl the best advice she knew. “A year or so of travel will give you a mastery over the affairs of the .world that otherwise you could never hope to possess. You say that you have a friend in Hollywood;-” ‘•Yes, Little Faith’s father fell out of work, and by chance joined a crowd for some film-work. He caught the producer’s eye and was offered a small part which led to a job in Hollywood. He seems to be getting on splendidly, and is the ‘star’ in his next picture 1 ,” Jennifer told her employer with interest but no enthusiasm. CHAPTER XY. There was a strange feeling of tension in the atmosphere of the Yardley dinner table wh-cn the four of them Frank, Adela Creighton, and his father and mother, sat down to dinner. Frank’s first question after greeting his mother, had been, “You invited Jennifer, did you not?” Lady Yardley looked away as she answered the question and evaded its issue by saying, “Yes, I invited her, but unfortunately, she could not come,” keeping back the news that she had to impart and the letter which she intended to give Frank after dinner. “That’s strange, for 1 know that she was looking forward to coming,” said Frank, glumly, his words betraying no hint of the dream that had borne him sweet company all the way from Oslo to Newcastle, and from Newcastle to Sussex. He loved Overslcy with a deep, abiding passion; his earliest recollections were bound up with the place. He had pictured his dear, gallant, beautiful little Jennifer sitting in the very seat that Adela Creighton occupied, and his heart became filled with a great, hot unrest. (To be Continued!.