Complete Story. An Advertisement.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue XII, 19 March 1904, Page 57

Complete Story. An Advertisement.

By

CHRIS. SERVELL.

“Wanted, by a gentleman living a abort way out of London, an amanuensis. Must be capable, and have more than a superficial knowledge of Greek. Should be able to copy in that language legibly and well. Apply to ‘Omega,’ office of this paper.”

“That’s clear, isn't it?” observed Merrick Hibberton as be haoided a slip of ■writing-paper to his mother. “ ‘More than a superficial knowledge will choke off the crowd, and I must have someone who knows what he’s about.”

Mrs. Hibberton sighed. She came of st hard-riding, robust race, and there were moments when she found it in her heart to wish that her only son was less of a scholar' and more of a yeoman. Still, she tried not to dwell on this, for she was inordinately proud of his brilliant Carter at Oxford, and of the “double first” that no Hibberton had ever achieved before.

“I shall see less of you than ever now, Merrick,” she commented rather plaintively. “You and your secretary will ba glued to that interminable book day and night, I suppose.” The young man bent his grave, elever face close to hers, and kissed her.

“X am a desperate failure, I believe, mother,” he said penitently. “I often think if Thole 3HTes had only lived and reformed how macli better things might have been. I was never meant for a country gentleman.” And then he returned to Iris study, and speedily became so absorbed in verifying a reference that the butler was compelled to respectfully tap his shoulder before he could bring himself back to such, mundane matters as lunch. A week later three people—two women and a man—sat in the blue draw-ing-room of Hibberton Towers, a prey to three distinct emotions. Merrick Hibberton was obviously perturbed. He spoke nervously, and looked first at the carpet and then at his- hands, as if doubtful how to proceed. His mother hid a smile of irrepressible * amusement behind a piece of faneywork, which she feigned to be holding up to the light; but the third person,, clearly a visitor, since she was in outdoor attire, appeared simply anxious. She was a girl, tall and brisk-looking, with rippling brown hair and eager blue eyes, and she looked wistfully from Merrick to his mother as she talked. He had found, much to his surprise, that secretaries, with “more than a superficial knowledge of Greek” are hard to rcme by. He had, it is - true received a few applications. A dilapidated, elderly man, had turned up. with a sheaf of testimonials. and a strong aroma of whisky; and several newly-lledged graduates had written patronising letters; but nothing in the least promising had so far presented itself. So a few minutes, before, on this particula® afternoon. when Randall, the butler, bad brought in a business-like ( card, inscribed “Sidn y Maine, SB.A.. and an American address scratched through, and a London one substituted,

in pencil, be had in the manner of speaking, jumped at it. “In answer to your advertisement, sir,” explained the solemn Randall. "Show him in, Randall," commanded Randall's master, with alacrity. “Beg pardon, sir, but he’s a young lady.' Merrick Hibberton started and blushed. Jake most students he was anything but a lady's man. In the presence of women—young women in particular—he invariably felt ill at ease. Then it struck him that she might have come for a brother or relative, and he decided to interview her. “In here, Randall. I’ll see her in here, please.” he stipulated, feeling that his mother’s presence would be some protection. And then, a tall, alert, self-possessed young lady had walked smilingly in, and Merrick Hibberton’s breath had gone from him when she firmly swept aside the idea of a brother, and announced without blinking that she was Sidney Mayne herself. “Fve been through college,” she was saying in a clear. pleasant voice, in which only just a pretty trace of her nationality appeared, “and I’ve done well; though”—with a laugh—“it doesn’t become me to say so. Greek was my specialty. I have my diplomas with me, if you’d care to see them. I’m an orphan and only child. My father left just enough money for my education, and when I’d completed it I came to London to look for work. I’ve been doing odds and ends of journalism for some time, but London doesn’t agree with me, and I'm anxious to get something outside till I’ve pulled myself together a little. Your advertisement seemed the very thing. I think if you’d give me a trial you wouldn’t regret it.” “I don’t doubt your capabilities,” Merrick assured her, glancing helplessly in the direction of Mrs. Hibberton, and wishing she would come to the rescue. “Only—only, you see, I’d rather made up my mind to have a man.” “Had you?” she asked in genuine surprise. “In America a secretary’s as often one as the other—only a woman's generally smarter.” A look of disappointment overspread her bright face. She put back into a handbag some papers that she’d extracted from it. “Of, course, if you’ve already settled ” she said. “I’m so sorry,” murmured Merrick Hibberton. “Perhaps, as you’ve brought your diplomas I may as well 'look through them. I night know someone who would only be too glad to hear of you.” She extracted the small bundle again, and handed them to him, with rather a wintry smile. ‘‘l’d be thankful if you did,” she observed, “for to tell you the truth. I’ve pretty nearly come to an end of my savings. Doctor’s bills Lave a knack of swallowing up everything.” He opened the packet’ and let his‘eye rove over the various slieets it contained. Suddenly he glanced up at her.

“la this piece of copy your o-jnf” he asked quickly. She nodded. "I can do better than that” she told him. “I just scribbled it before I came, to give you an idea—and the pen was bud.” “It's remarkably good,” he observed quietly, and went on with his inspection of the rest of the papers. Finally he folded them up and gave them back to her. Then he smiled—a smile improved his naturally sad face wonderfully. “Judging by these, you know your subject as well as, or better than I do,” he said. “You—you would be very valuable to me. I did not know that women were ever so thorough. The book on which I’m engaged is a work on obscure Greek roots. Clear writing like yours is exactly what I want. My own”—the glaaiced humorously at his mother—“what is my writing like, mother?” “Absolutely unreadable in English,” answered Mrs. Hibberton. without hesitation; “I don't know what it may be in Greek.” And they all laughed. "Will you allow me to think it over?” he asked suddenly. “I'll let you know without fail on Monday.” Miss Mayne stood up. looking pleased and grateful. “I ean give you any references you like.” she said eagerly. “My father, who’s been dead for many years, belonged—so he always said—to an old English family. My mother was a Canadian. and also well bom.” She rose to go. “I would do my best to please you,” she added. “Mother, what am I to do?” exclaimed the young man half irritably. half amusedly, as the door closed behind her. “You might have helped me out.” “My dear boy,” protested Mrs Hibberton. allowing her pent-up feelings to escape in a hearty laugh, “I never enjoyed anything more in my life. What a practical, unassuming girl! If you'll take my advice, Merrick, you’ll close with her at onee. She’d do you no end of good —be a sort of tonic, in fact. Of course, if you were an ordinary young man. and she an average young woman, it might be unwise; but as things are—well, between whiles she'd be a delightful companion for your poor old mother. I’ve been considering the advisability of getting a companion very much of late.” And so it was settled. The new secretary bad been established at Hibberton: Towers for nearly three months. Meanwhile the book on obscure Greek roots had progressed apace, and its author—much to his own surprise—had never for one moment regretted that he’d taken his mother's adviee. Not only was Sidnev Mayne deft and neat with her work, but her outspoken, shrewd criticisms had saved him from shipwreck more thtm onee. He’d brightened up wonderfully—no one could help being cheerful when Miss Mayne was at hand. Her gaiety was infectious. Not only was she at home in classical research, hut she had studied tire subject of English agriculture, and Meniek was obliged to confess that in the many problems that harass the brain of a landed proprietor she was his superior. To Mrs Hibberton she was a most congenial companion, and, strange to say, her knowledge of fancy-work didn't fall below the average of sterner subjects. Tn a word, she was an unqualified success. Another fortnight would sec the Look

finished—a cunaununatien to which ffs author had been looking forward fa* years. But when the goal was really within sight, he discovered that the idea was not altogether the unmixeA joy it ought to- have been. “One naturally gets attached to a work one has wrestled with for so long," he said to Sidney. “Launching it on the world is like sending a petted son out to get his own living.” And then he stopped, and wondered whether this was really why he was so loth to let it go—he’d taken to wondering about himself a good deal of late. “We’re going to have a holiday to-day, Miss Mayne,” announced Sidney’s employer at breakfast a few days later, “We shall work all the better for it. Fiist of all. 1 want to show you some rather fine carving in a room in the left wing. Being such a small family, we never use that part of the house at all. You told me once that you were fond of old carving, didn't you? And then we’ll settle what to do next.” When the meal was over he borrowed a bunch of keys from the housekeeper, and led the way to a part of the building where Sidney had never been before. He was in a wonderfully festive mood. “You're not superstitious?” he inquired. with one of his transforming smiles, which had grown quite common of late. “Not a bit.” laughed Sidney. “Are Americans ever superstitious? They’d simply want to catch a spectre in order to analyse its vapour under a microscope! What is your peculiar possession?” “Oh! it’s more a legend than anything else. In the time of the Commonwealth, after the death of a chadless Hibberton. a usurper somehow got the property —not one of the legal line, you know. He kept it for five years, and then was found mysteriously strangled in his bed; and afterwards the fraud was discovered, and die right heir claimed his possessions.” “And he still bothers you— this usurper?” 4:{

r "Not tip to the present- It is said that in the event of an illegal heir getting the place again he •might make himbelt disagreeable; but, of course, I’ve ■never had a chance of proving his enpa|>ilities.” They had entered one of the J-ooms as he spoke. “This was a boudoir in my grandmother’s time,” exined Merrick. “It’s been left much Ks it was.” Sidney looked curiously round at the heavy hangings and faded, old-world Turn iture.

“How quaint!” she exclaimed. “I can fancy any amount of ghosts here!” And, despite her American blood, she aliivcred slightly. Merrick stepped forward and threw open the shutters, and the light fell on fi large oil painting that hung over the mantel-shelf. Sidney crossed the room 4o look at it. “That was my father’s brother,” explained .derrick- “He was rather wild in his youth, and he went abroad and died young Miss Mayne, what’s the matter?” Well might he ask. The secretary thad gone quite white. She was clutching at the edge of the mantel-shelf and gazing with dilated eyes at the picture. Merrick fancied that the heavy atmosphere of the room and their talk about the supernatural had upset her“Don’t you feel well?” he asked anxiously. She passed her hand slowly across her forehead, and looked at him dreamily. “Oh. yes—l’m quite well—quite—only—you’ll think me crazy, of course —but that man” —she pointed to the oil-painting—“that man was my father!” . “Your father?” cried Merrick, and his voice echoed and re-echoed in the silence of the chamber.

"Ye*. Of course he's quite young there. But. oh! I couldn’t mistake him—besides, I’ve got a little photo like this in my box somewhere- If I stand near the painting you can see the likeness.”

She turned round as she spoke and placed herself in the full light of the window, where the sun shone on her hair.

Merrick uttered another startled exclamation. The inanimate face on the canvas and the living, eager face beside it were almost feature for feature the same-

They stood there for some seconds staring at each other—employer and employed—and Merrick was the first to recover himself. “Come,” he said hoarsely, "this means —-so —so much. Let's get into a better atmosphere. I want to think.’’

It was late that evening when three people sat in the blue drawing-room once more and talked as, perhaps, three people have never talked before. Mrs Hibberton had been taken to the boudoir; had seen and acknowledged the remarkable likeness; Sidney had produced her little photograph; and all doubt on the subject was at an end.

“Then Miles Hibberton never died when we supposed. He let us all believe him dead, and all the time he’d simply taken the name of Mayne and married. Can you explain it, my dear?” And she turned to Sidney.

The girl flushed, but her straightforward blue eyes did not leave the elder lady’s face. “I think—l fancy, from what my father let drop, that he’d somehow disgraced himself—embezzled money in

England years ago—and that there was a piece on his head.

The other two sat silent. Then all at once Merrick Hibberton got up. “Well, we won’t bother lawyers,” he said. “We’ll settle it in camera, shall we? The whole thing's perfectly clear, I’m a usurper, after all, and Hibberton Towers belongs to you.” The tears started to Sidney’s eyes and her cheeks glowed crimson. - “I shall go away to-morrow,” she said indignantly; “away where no one can find me! Do you suppose I would ever take away from you what has been yours all your life for all the lawyers in the world? Besides, you have every right to it. My father never troubled ” “Still, justice is justice,” put in Merrick Hibberton.

Mrs Hibberton said nothing, but murmured something about hunting for old letters, and disappeared. The other two scarcely noticed she had gone.

“What’s to be done?” asked the scholar. “I sha’n’t hold another day what

doesn’t belong to me. I wish you wouldn’t let it distress you. 1 have plenty of interests. It comes hard on my mother, though. Perhaps, for a while, you would ” a

“I’m going tomorrow morning,” interrupted Sidney, firmly. “I wish I'd never spoken about that portrait; but it took me by surprise.”

“Sidney ” “Well?” - A little thrill went through her at the sound of her Christian name.

“There’s one way in which we could settle it. I wonder—as I've wondered almost ever since I saw you—whether I could dare to ask you to take it? It seems such terrible effrontery now.” “How should I know unless you do ask me?” said Sidney, and her voice trembled a little, though there was laughter in her eyes. And then the scholar took heart of grace, and before Mrs Hibbertson bad returned from a prolonged search after purely imaginary things, the future fate of Hibberton Towers had been decided.