Complete Story. The Beauty of Innes.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue XV, 8 October 1904, Page 10

Complete Story. The Beauty of Innes.

By

LESLIE BRIGHT.

A Jittie figure with frowzy, dark hair bent over the desk in the parlour. Bettina C'axton was correcting Latin exercises. It sometime, seemed to Bett'na that she eould not get through those last, few weeks before nehool should dose. She had taught for twelve years, but the end of a school year had never before found her so tired.

“Something in me has given out,” same in a weary sigh of exasperation as the last exercise blushed in red ink at its shortcomings.

Bettina snatched off her glasses with a quick, nervous little, jerk, so characteristic that the sehool-girls had long learned to mimic it. Bettina had caught them dong so and had laughed. They meant no disrespect. There had always been the best of good-fellowship between her and that long line of girls she called her girls, who rnr.geJ from small ones struggling with spelling to big ones who swayed over her desk like sad trees when they came to her for extra help with the’r Virgil.

This May even her girls, who had never been a trial to her before, set her nerves jangling. Oil. the great Hood of duties to bo faced before that June day of iee-eream, white-frilled frocks, and parents’ smiles! Bettina ducked her head down between her arms, which she had stretched out over the paper-strewn desk.

The room was very quiet. Only New York May street noises sieved in through the white laee curtains, weakened after their Hight up the seven layers of apartments over which Bettina lived, livening grays were smoking through the soft primrose light which came through the lace curtains with the street sounds. The corners of the pretty, up-to-date little parlour were growing obscure. Dusk was descending over the May day, but very, very slowly, like a sensitive hand hesitating to pick a Hower fresh with charmingly exultant life.

hi the evening grayness of the room something rich, deep golden, almost red, drew attention to a portrait over the mantel, something that glowed through sea mistiness. It was gold, warm,‘luxurious; it was youth profoundly alive—the colour of that marvellous hair. The pale boy’s face, with searching, modern eyes, and a slangy smile suggested,though not expressed, on the curved lips, gave the colouring an impertinent, biting glory.. Tie carried hi i wonderful head of hair with an imchildlike, complete appreciation of its strikingly unusual appearance. His soul had no right to such beauty, and this incongruity gave the beauty a harsh, strident quality. His pose was as mysteriously interesting as his hair. There was grace in every line, and in every line his consciousness of its grace. One little white hand, with squaretipped, school-boy lingers, resting on an entirely subdued Great Dane’s head, seemed masterfully to have crushed the big deg’s vitality. The artist was a clever one. The other hand rested airily on the boy’s hip. The portrait enthralled, and pert, pale-brown eyes watched the enthralment. Dusky little Bettina, enveloped in shadow, stirred, raised her head, and with a stretch threw herself back in her chair, which as it happened was placed so that when her eyes lifted they looked full into the light of the portrait. Bet.tiiia.ls face softened and hardened; softened evidently with love for the boy, hardened with some strange pang which sent a little shudder through hey as she continued to gaze at th<' picture. “What arc you staring at?” came in drawling tone from behind Bettina. "0 Innes, I didn’t know y?n were here,” she gasped, twisting about to face the original of the portrait, who was luxuriating in Oriental posture in a great, plush-covered Morris chair. “Just came.” “What did you come so quietly for, Junes ?” "Wanted to watch yon staring at me.” uttered the boy over a ratner grimy white hand he held curled under his chin.

Bettina laughed sweetly. "You are a queer child, Innes. What was there to watch ?” "Yon looked, so funny.” "How funny?” “Your face was all screwed up. and yon look so old—like the witch in my fairyqbook.” “Innes,” cried Bettina, “how can you talk so to Aunt Bet —and when she is so tired?” “Ob, come oft!” remarked the boy with a bored gesture, and he leaned back in the great Morris chair, his hands clasped ever the oak arms, his feet crossed, anil liis head thrown back, showing the white throat under his uptilted ehin. Against the blue-green plush the splash of goldenbronze hair gleamed like a halo about an anything but. saintly little face. Aunt Bet saw only liis beauty, and it made her forget herself and her pain. In a tone awed by this beauty into - almost a cathedral whisper, she asked the simple question: “Have you had fun this afternoon, dear, playing?” Innes did not answer. He just, furrowed that golden-red head of his about over the deep-sea colour and kept his eyes fixed sententlously upon the ceiling. ”Y'ou have such a pretty pink colour in your cheeks, I am sure you have been ‘playing tag,” persevered Bettina, winningly. “Would you like the pink? Y’ou need it,” came a dry interrogation and observation, accompanied by a piercing g’anee from pale eyes darkening with impertinence. "Oh, you rogue!” Bettina smiled bravely. “Of course I’d like your roses. I had two once.” ‘■Mamma has hers now.” “Yes; mamma is very pretty.” “Her hair hasn’t white threads in it like yours.” “No. dear.” answered Bettina, struggling with a knot in her eyeglass chain. “Mamina is beautiful.and, you know, she hasn’t had to work hard. She lias had your father and yon to keep her young and very pretty.” “She isn’t an old maid,” observed Junes. condens'ng his aunt’s remarks. He clasped his hands languidly over one knee. The grace of his pose bewitched Baltina’s attention from this last; Hing. “Why,, what pretty pumps!” she exclaimed. with unaffected ontliHsiasm. “Are they for dancing-school?” Innes looked down at the immaculate patent-leather extremities of liis slight, welt-proportioned legs w th perfect complacency but no sign of interest. “Yes; ‘mamma got ’em. Sire went io get some slippers for herself to wear to-night. Got these for me at same time, I suppose. They just oarne kerne.”

"Is mamma going to be out to-night?” asked mamma’s younger sister with much surprise.

Innes noted the surprise, and a malicious something twinkled far baek in the depths of the darkened eyes and turned them pale again. The roses in his cheeks deepened slightly. His voice continued in its monotonous pitch: “Yes, mamma and papa have gone to dinner at the Blakes’.”

Bettina turned very white. She looked intently at Innes as he proceeded to explain, in his light, even tone. •'Mamina told me to tell you she and papa were going. Invitation eame when I came home from school. Mamma sent Sarah to Mrs Blake’s with her gown ’cause she’s goin’ to dress there as she had to be down-town this afternoon. She telephoned papa to go right to the Blakes’ on his way up.” "And didn’t mamma leave any message about mo, Innes?” asked Bettina in a low, strained tone.

“Arc you mad ’cause you weren't asked, too?”

Junes had slipped from the chair and was standing with one hand on liis hip and the other twisting in the corner of a cushion, it was his portrait pose. He had a way of falling into it ever since the picture had been painted. The family liked it, and he knew they did.

‘•lnnes!” The distress voiced in the name was pathetic. Bettina was startled. She had not expected to betray such depths of

feeling. “Mamma took her white gown,” explained Innes, patronisingly. “It’s lownecked. I guess you wouldn’t have a good time there, anyway, Aunt Bet. You’d have had to wear low-neck, and your neck’s so thin.” Bettina did not hear him. Her “head rested listlessly forward on her clasped hands.

"The invitation,” continued the precocious only child, "surprised mamma. She said she didn't know Mr Blake’s brother was coming back from South America. That’s why the dinner’s being given. He’s just here for to-night. Has to go back to South America to-morrow.”

■•’lnnes!” It was a frightened cry; Even Innes started.

“Ob. what do you care! What’s Mr Blake’s brother to you, I’d like to know ? Come on now, I’m hungry. It’s awful late. I stayed out playin’ so long, i’ll go tell Sarah to hurry up our slipper. Then you’ll read to me. I want you to finish that story to-night before i go to bed.”

“Very well, darling, 1 will,” said B:t---tina, asserting herself pluekily. With the grace of springtime he swung lightly into the hall. They made an oddly picturesque couple at that pretty eandle-Ht dining-table, waited upon by Sarah, old darky maid-•f-all-work, who had stayed by her young ladies since the far-away prosperity of their parents’ home bad died with her master and mistress. One little candlestick Jit into their own glory the deep - waved, red-gold hair, lily-white skin, and flushed, red checks of the boy. The suffused circle of light at the other end of the table was not so kind. It shone upon Bett.ilia’s tired face and upon her

vretry bands. It rederled in the eyeglasses and showed little touches of silver at the side* of the cloud of dark hair? Innes in his strange, unchildlike way, was having an excellent time at this supper with Aunt Bet. It seemed to Bettina that a curiously emphasised note of possession rang in his voiee a* he talked to her. He rode his chair as a voting arrogant king rides a parading steed. Bettina was amazed in spite of a perfectly broken heart, and she humoured him in his mood as she had humoured him ever since lie was big enough to be her tyrant. In the days when Innes was but a fbaby she had cuddled him to her. Sli» was' voting then, only over-serious m her hard work, and she welcomed with ecstasy the laughter and song he inspired' which she had not realised she had crushed away from her personal life. . It was at this period of reclaimed laughter and song that she met Steven Blake a number of times, and found herself interested in his ambitions. She. had met him again on two or three occasions at a later period, just before he started away to the mines in South America for this three-year trial of his theories, which was soon to end; but Bettina had by then buried ecstasies. The. comfort-baby had wriggled from her arms with a laugh and lunes, the tyrant, stood before her, a boy who in uncanny knowledge, or trick at knowledge, threw her wasted youth in her face at every opportunity, encouraged in doing so by parents wiio thought everything he chose to do delightfully winsome.

”I’s sorry. Miss Bettina, there’s no dessert, arse Innes likes fruit best, so 1 dicin' make any. Don’ know jes’ how, but I thought, you'd be out.” explained Sarah, apologetically, as she. set the fruit-dish down before Bettina, “Did Sister Gertrude tell yon I’d bs out?” asked Bettina, a little sharply. “No, Miss Bettina. She gave a bundle of directions ’bout Mur sc Innes’s playin’. Jes’ as she was goin' down in the elevator she ■called up she had s’plained to Marse Innes what to tell you. Miss Bettina. I asked Mars? Innes if you were goin’, but he was runnin’ downstairs to play. 1 kinda took it for sure you'd go till I saw you writing so late.”

All pertness, all imperious gleam, had left Innes’s face. A cherubic expression wreathed it. Mild, innocent eyes gazed over half an apple at his aunt and BarA>>. The hardness in Bettina’s eye melted before the guileless gaze, and she covered him with one of her warm. «flectionate looks, lie daily basked in the warmth such looks radiated, taking them for granted ns a little Italian lizard does the sun.

Immediately after supper Innes went into the parlour for his big fairy-book. He drew a ehair for Bettina up by the wide sofa, on which lie threw himself. Daintily recumbent, he hade. Bettina hold the book so he could watch, without changing bis posit.’an, the illustrations, gay as sun-laden butterfly wings.

“Ami the. Princess waited, and waited, and she thought the Prince luid forgotten all about her. but one day he came mid ” Bettina’s eves bind idled with teal's, and one splashed down on the Prince’s brocaded cloak. Tjuekily for Bettina, Innes did not notice. She was able to 'wipe her eyes in a pretence a t rubbing her glasses. But Innes did notice the change in her voice when she began to read again, and he said peevishly, as he wriggled under abused feelings and crossed his knees high is 4dte air: “That isn’t the way to read!”

Bettina winced, and would have given anything to run from the book and the boy. For the first- time she was con-n-ions of how his atmosphere blighted her. suffocated her. A shrill displeasure and frank exasperation rang in her tone as she started to read again. Innes dashed up and seized the book.

“Don’t read like that!” lie screamed, jealously. “Read as I like.” Then he added, mockingly, “No Prince!!! ever come for you!” Terrified by the child’s action and by the inexplicable purport of liis railing, 'Bettina,- in an access of self-reproach, soothed him, and then began reading again, chanting in the approved fairybook tone which before long lulled Innes sound asleep.* There was a pout About hts lips which Beilina was sorry to see.

, “He ought to go to bed, but he’ll scold

if I move him,” she thought, as she laid a light shawl over his pretty, slight legs, which were crossed as if to show to advantage the new pumps. As Bettina stood for an instant looking down upon him, bis warm beauty laughed at her just as he would have laughed were he awake and aware of the torment that was racking her. She t urned, impatient of his power. She would read on iu the extravagant story till he waked up again. Then she would get him to bed—and then, then she would try to think what everything meant—would try to face the music. It was only a little while after Bettina had resolutely plunged her interest into the. intricacies of the fairy-tale that the front-door bell rang. Innes stirred, threw his arm across Bettina’s lap, but did not wake. Bettina glanced up, disin Lerestedly. She certainly heard Sarah say, “In the parlour.” Innes’ arm lay heavy across her knees. She tried to raise it, but lie moved impatiently in his sleep, so she did not try aga in. A tall, slight man stood in the doorway, and though he looked as though he had come to say something more matter-of-fact, all he said was, “ Bettina! ” - “Why do you speak so to me?” asked Bettina. Her voiee was low and emotionless. “Why?” the man repeated, with bitter reproach. He passed liis hand over bis forehead in a gesture Bettina remembered an t loved. Then quickly he drew himself together and rather formally explained his presence. "Your sister was afraid Innes might not have given you her message Tney asked me to conic to ask you to go for the rest of the evening. If your not going was because you knew I was to be there, tell me something to say to them and I’ll go.” With the prosaic words Bettiim’s face became transugured. Despairing recerve changed to an appealing sadness that drew Steven Blake's brows together over an intense, studying glance. Bettina’s eyes did not waver under the glance, though her lips part ;d slightly and the covers of the be ok fell together from her weakened hold. Bettina, ’ he cried, crossing to her, your eyes have changed. Let'ihe break my word and speak of loving you. Till me why you sent, that letter,'the answer to mine telling you 1 loved you? Toll me, Bettina.” ‘ 1 can’t,” came in a little, low mean. I cant, ft won’t let mo.” Iler tone pleaded his understanding, his protection. Steven Blake softened. “What won’t let you, child? ’ Ho bent over her, looking down into her eyes, which did not seem to mind his reading them to their depths. Bettina pointed to the little arm that lay over her lap. Then she clasped her hands under her chin and stiffened herself as if to get away from it. Direct as most men, Steven raised that little arm over by the sleeping boy. Colour crept into Bettina’s white cheeks, but with the coming-of the colour her eyes lowered and she could not raise them to look at Steven Blake. “Bettina, what is this nonsense? You know I love you. Can’t, you trust me?” Bettina swayed up from her chair. Steven thought she would fall, and steadied her. She did not draw away from his touch. As she stood by him he looked with loving pity and tenderness down upon the swirl of dinky hair s» near bis shoulder, and waited. lip into this look a little white -face presently turned itself, so confident, of meeting just such n look. Steven smiled ■ strangely joyous smile for one so hemmed about by mysteries. Hope, delic.itely bright,; shone through the sadness that still drew Beilina’s face with mournful tensity. Sloven looked down into the dark eyes. With a portentous frown lie took oil her glasses. They fell the length of the chain. Then, as if to snatch Bettina from the dreams lie had no patience with into his life that needed her so, he rather roughly drew her to him and kissed her on het lips.

“Tell me, child.” came in a quick, grave whisper, as he still held her close “what has been this terrible mistake of almost. three years’ standing?” “You'll think it fanciful, unpardon able, but it's—it’s lunes!” “Innes!”

“He is so beautiful! He passed my

chair when 1 was starting to answer your letter, anil tell you how surprised I was and how I loved you. and lie laughed at the gray in my hair, and said I was old— You see —the gray!’* Her voice had risen to a cry.

Without giving, him time to spe.ak Beltinn hurried on. huddling her words together from the storm of masculine criticism she felt with growing realisation they deserved. “So I just went on writing the letter you got. ‘Children and fools speak the truth,* so his father often quotes when Innes teases me. You deserved the best, ami —l—thought you had made a mistake.**

• Bettina!” whispered her lover, turning a loosened lock of her hair back over her forehead.

Thankful to have escaped harsh judgment she rushed her words more confidently. “I didn’t answer the letters that came right after because I still thought I was right. I was glad to get that letter a lew weeks ago asking for friendship, because 1 could answer it. Friends may be as old and faded as Time likes, and it doesn’t make any difference! Innes d : du*t tell me I was asked to-night. I thought you for some reason didn’t want. me. He wanted me to stay with him. He hates to be alone. He’s taken all my spirit ever since he was big enough to make fun of me. I didn’t know it till to-night, l‘ve adored him so. I hate myself for letting him do it! Don’t hate me for it a man couldn’t understand!”

Through her words eml‘ng ?n high, impetuous appeal, reclaimed spirit had brightened to ‘is fulness as a sword Hashed from the sheath. In ihe light of this triumphant, upward Hash Bettina gazed down upon the boy. Then her eyes dilated strangely. Baek into cover slipped the brightness. A chill crept through her as though she had been caught in a sudden Hurry of snow. Steven turned her face up. It frightened him. and he saw what she had gone without and marvelled at her strength in her weakness. “Take me .from him, Steven,” she cried, in anguish, like a. fever-stricken child. “I’m so tired! 'fake me away from this home before I smother to death.” Steven glanced with rage al the ornate youngster on the sofa. “I find I’ve won a name for myself down in those mines with my pel theories let loose. They summoned me here to give mo the name and want me to return for sosnie mor? work. I’ve some power now, and they’ll have to wait till you’re ready to help me carry the name back. You won’t mind helping me take it soon, Bettina? The work needs inc.” He spoke with light ness of tone, trying to divert her back to her spirit, and be was successful; He heard her laugh for happiness. liis hand closed over hers, which was instinctively seeking her glasses. “No, Bettina.” “But I need them.” “For read’ng and writing, yes. At other times it’s a bad habit of yours, Bettina. I heard about it this evening. There’ll be no mere work.” “After the third of June!” “Bother that date.” “Bless it, it’s so near.” A deep awakening breath and Innes opened his eyes. With quick penitence, Bettina left Steven, and seating herse’.f on the side of the sofa she leaned sightly over the boy. Ills eyes grew stupidly dazed as he looked up at her, at her glowing cheeks, and into her marvellously enkindled e\ s. She let him gaze so for a long moment, ami then slowly she bent over him and kissed his cheek. Her face lay an instant beside his, and it was as alive with the rich beauty and warmth of throbbing life as h’s. Abashed, he curled his hand in and out about his eyes. Thon a surprise of sweetness for Bettina camo in the awe-smothered question: ‘What makes you so prettv, Aunt Bel ?’’ “Call her Aunty Bettina,” came an uncomprom’singly stern voiiX* from high in the air. Betfina raised a hand of protest, but saw at once that interference was of no avail, for two pairs of masculine eyes were glaring at cadi other in a dead-lock.

Innes’s eyes quailed under the eyes he id. first met with admirable bravado. He had never been looked at s<> before in his life.

In peevish lone he asked, “Who is he?” of Bettina.

“The Prince, dear/’ ahe whispered, without niaFce. “Mr Blake’s brother?” “Yes, Innes.” “Mamma said you and he would bs glad to see each other,” he said, suavely- “I guess she know’s Im’s the Prince.** •‘How could she know?’’ Bettina’s eyes questioned the Prince. “Perhaps my sister-in-law suspected me. Women are quick.” “I’m going to Mrs Blake’s now. Innes, and Sarah will put- you to bed.” murmured Bettina, in deep confusion. She did not want others to know her secret so soon. A hand touched her shoulder as she arose to leave the room. Innes viewed the touch and the courage it suddenly instilled in his aunt—a mystery so displeasingly mysterious to him he revolved into silting poslmo that he might think more clearly, liis beautiful hair was kinked and tousled, to a degree. He eyed the tall man savagely, this Mr Blake who had appeared to Innes as an enemy at his n.other’s mention of him early in the afternoon. Steven Blake stood before th? young nabob quite unaffrighted, and when Bettina’s footsteps had hurried down the hall he freed his mind—somewhat. “See here, my young carrot-top. Pm going to see that you behave like a gentleman to your aunt. You call her Aunty Bettina, and don’t you ever say a rude thing to her again as long as you live. If you do you’ll have mo to answer to for it. Spoiled boys are « nuisance, and someone outside the immediate, doting family has to prove it to them. Your aunt is a sweet, pretty little girl, and you’re as blind as a bat, and as stupid as—as ” A feeble “Came off/’ which tried io li« noncha lent. sounded on Innes’ lips, but it had such a die-away character of tone it did not irritate Steven into further search for apt invective. Innes did not continue the conversation. The man was very tall, and looked pretty strong, and besides, in spite of the outrageous liberty he had taken in walking into his homo while he was asleep l<i carry off his aunt, and in daring to speafle to him as he had—lnnes liked him. Ho wasn’t going to admit that in a'huriy, though. Some penalty was in order, h® he would withhold for a little his favour. Innes began to whistle under his breath and kick his heels. The tall man wheeled his back towards him and picked up a magazine. Innes ami Sarah stood in the hall ast Bettina tn rose-coloured gojvn -heathert in an evening cloak went into the elevator. “Good-night, Innes,” cried Bettina. No answer. The tall man looked fixedly at the slighl, graceful boy, and appearctl to be waiting for him to say something. The boy looked coldly back at him. The tall man seemed to make a menial note against the future. As the elevator lowered below their floor, a monotonous, sleepy vdii'e said, with some unacquired sweetness, “Good-night. Aunty Bettina. “I siy. Aunty Bettina!” The elevator stopped. “Tell mamma not to bo mad at me for not telling, or I’ll get sick and die. “And I say, Aunty Bettina. now the Prince has you. I guess I won’t have you any more?” “That’s true,” came in the man’s voice? “but if you're good you can come to sea us in South America.*’ A little exclamation from Aunty Betti na and the elevator passed on down.