OUR STORYETTE.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 6, Issue 293, 17 July 1917, Page 4

OUR STORYETTE.

(AM. RIGHTS RESERVED.")

THE HOME-COMING OF HECTOR BAYLASS.

Hector lUylass was once more i' London after twelve years' absence from his natire land.

Always headstrong and rather vild, ( Hector Bayl«ir>s had lost his mother when hp was eighteen, an;l one-.' iiu- 1 gentle influence was removed, which had so often stood -between the lad's | misdoings ana his father's displ.rj.-i.ro, | quarrels became fre jiU'iit th , estimable, bu' ri id p--re BayLr-* r.:il . his only son, whose idleness ai Ox- ! for«l and general extravagance so l/it- I terly disappointed the hope.-, <u his j parent. Matters roaclu J u clisa u.'ien j the young man w «'■ >i-■ ho":o t fo: :.. uh announce his er.vag r, mc!it 'o a po music-mall a'tiste, whose vukt.r;fy was i as pronounced as was her looseness or | life. I

As was natural, Mr. BayluV-, . t.-ni ,r, and every member of his respectable family, rose up in their wrath t-o denounce the suicidal step meditau-d by the impulsive, hot-headed scapegra'e. Their protestations but added iu 1 '.o the fire. Judiciously left to die out of its own accord Hector's infatuation might have come to a speedy termination. He, however, felt himself a very much-injured person, a chivalrous hero, and swore to himself and hi) father that sooner than act the mean cur and give up the woman who trust ed to his love and his honor he would marry her right off, and work his fingers off to support her. It was at this acute cri.sis of affairs that Cousin Herbert came along and saved the situation. He was the last to hear of Hector's escapade, and when it was mentioned to him by his brother lie very much Bcandalised that worthy individual by bursting into a hearty fit of laughter at tho tragic situation. He maintained that all the rest of them had botched the affair by taking it too seriously, and offered to wager that if he were given a free hand, ho would bring Hector's entanglement to a satisfactory termination in a month. It was, as all decided, a great risk to commit the affair to Cousin Herbert, but as everyone else had failed to bring Hector to reason, he was at last entrusted with the conduct of matters, but not without considerable misgivings on the part of his relations, especially when he positively declined to give them the slightest idea as to how he intended to set to work to accomplish his ends. But accomplish them he did, and in a far shorter space than he had bargained for.

He called 011 Mademoiselle Dorina Laboncle, otherwise Jane Short, and treated her to a champagne lunch at a chic restaurant near Piccadilly, at which lie thoroughly enjoyed himself. After lunch he calmly talked over matters with the young lady, proving to her that Hector Baylass's entire property amounted to the sum of two hundred pounds, left to him by an aunt, that bis father the most pigheaded of EnglisTT puritans—would certainly never allow his son to tomb a penny of his money if he married against his will, and he wound up bv asking Mademoiselle Dorina if a fine, handsome girl like herself, who could "haul in a really big prize," could be so foolish as to throw herself away on a pauper, and one to boot, who bad neither the steadiness, nor the training to earn a decent living for himself, much less for her. It was the story of Pendenuis over again, with a very much worse sort of heroine. The fair dancer was at first furious, then, more amenable io reason, and, after "sleeping over the thing,'' as suggested by the astute Cousin Herbert, she agreed, when he called upon her the following morning, to give Hector Baylass his ' conge," and to accept a cheque for three hundred pounds as equivalent for her wounded affections.

She kept her word, and her dismissal of her adorer lett nothing to be desired in the way of decision and candour.

He left her. believing himself heartbroken for life, his faith in woman shattered, and his indignation against all his family unbounded. He swore never to have anything to do with one of tliem again, including even his little sister, to whom he was really attached. He drew the two hundred pounds, which his father had generously permitted him to keep intact, spite of the heavy bills lie paid lor him, and took passage for South Africa. After twelve years there of hard work, exciting adventure, and financial success, he had felt s'.n h a home sickness, spite of all his tall talk about never wishing to see home again, that lie had taken a year's holiday to come to England. He had kept up no communication with his family, but had heard from stray acquaintances, whom he came across in Africa, that his lather was still alive and his sister well married. Once in London he bethought himself of writing to his father, but then decided that it would he better to run down and see the old man.

It was Lord Mayor's day, and tho new arrival was moving through tho crowd very much amused and interested with all he saw. It was an abominable day as regarded weather, being wet and foggv, and the streets ankledeep in mud. It was not by any means a day to show nIF London to the best advantage, vet ILetor Baylass had never felt so fond of the hig metropolis as now. After all, the charms of the old country out-balanced the advantages of the new, and he fill full of life and energy and ready to take up his existence as an English citizen if fate so shaped his destiny. "Please will you take me home?" came a soft voice from about his knee, and, looking down. Hector saw a pretty, fair b -died little Saxon, with blue eyes lif'cd pleadingly and confident.!'.- to b ; oi\ n.

"Why, my iiltie fellow, how did you conio to bf> eet in this crowd alone?" he !>,j;k'"'d. tailing the small hand, now slipped into !iig. "I'm lost, and mother will 1m looking for me everywhere and crying," said the < hi?• 1, his lips quivering.

''Whoi.. jj,i you lose your mother?" asked ll'v'or. "Were you and she iilon..!'" ''N'o, l)e«c'!r-n<l was with us and auntie lie fell and mother took him a shop to wipe his clothes, and

v. lien I 1 joked l'c.r the:ia they v- are "Can't undi-i A. -.'l I'o.v tfio motii.ii' could hav be-n *o careh-ss," thoug'il the ing bachelor impatient lv Then. '•[»••.]koig to the >v: "■ i* ><>ur name, my boy, and ul. ! • VO'll' llllllll'!'"

"My nam ■ is TTtor Wen rue, and ! live at 20 CrosMvay-terraco, ilydo I'.w.i tin [u! i<ply. • You v. ill tak 1:10 there. won't you ?" ' Oil, yes I'll take yoti there," repl: 1 lb-dor, with a good nam rod smile. '-'Hut first come and have sonic ton.''

'I lie hoy was nothing loth, and was regal d • uniptnoii>ly by his new friend, ut'f which tln-y into a hansom and diove to the house mentioned. Has mother come luck:" demanded voting llictor of the servant who 0p:..-! the door. "No. .M ister Hector, but your Aunt Ellen has. and they are in a fine way about 'o.«'ng you,'" said the man.

As hi -poke a pre'iy fair girl, very much resembling her n.phew, rushed Jowiibtaiis and caught tho child in ker UM-, cr\i.i- h\>ti-i if.illv i In- while. '■( J. licc.or!' she sobbed. "What a fiijht \ou have gi'.en us. Your father and motiier are still searching for you, and 1 had coin.' I.irk with Desmond.'' '•You all lost me," retorted Master I'c tor. grandly, "anil this kind gentleman l>rou<;ht me home.''

For the fn>t time Mi>s Wearne not iced the pri senon of a sti anger and greeted him in c":C.ision. Me thought he had never seen anything so becoming as her loving, tearii:l cye> and bright flu.-bed cheeks, and made himself a.-> agreeable as circumstances permitted. She insisted upon him going into the drawing-room and telling her all about his meeting with h<>»' nephew, after she had despatched a telegram to her brother's office in tlio C'itv. acquainting him v.ith the safety of the lost child.

As she returned from speaking to the man uli-j was to take the telegram she saw tho visitor liolding in liis hand a photograph. which lie had taken from tlio chimney-piece, and which lie was looking at with evident emotion. "Whose pliotograph is this?'' he aske I in a lmskv voice.

' That is my sister-in-law's brother, a Mr. lleetor Baylass," was the surprised reply. "I am that brother, .Miss Wearne. I have just returned from a twelve vears' stav in South Africa.

The sequel can lie easily guessed, [lector Bajlass spent the Christmas in his old home, where he and his father got on capitally. Agnes Wearne. with her husband,

children, and sister-in-law, were there, too, and before the 'tells ran;; in the \ew Year Hector and that young lady had agreed to continue their journey through life as mm and wife. (The End.)