The Two Miss Carrs

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 61, 3 June 1927, Page 14

The Two Miss Carrs

by

Thomas Cobb,

Author of “ Joanna Sets to Work,” “The Late Mr. Beverly ” &c. r 6rc

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTERS I. to lll.—Mrs. Fentiman flatters herself that she does r.ot look her age, although she is 10 years older than Hick Warrender. He knows he has only to say the word and the lady and r.ll her possessions are his. At six on Friday evening he enters her drawing-room. She is trying to gel him a post as private secretary to Sir Edwin Shackel, and arranges an interview, which Hick promises to keep. Mrs. Fentiman returns from a visit to her mother on the following Wednesday. Site sees Dick Warrender with a young lady companion. She is handsomely dressed, and holds a Sealyham by the leash. Rater in the day Mrs. Fentiman entertains Hick anti taxes him about this young lady, whom Hick owns he does not know. Although angry with him. she repeats her invitation to tennis on Saturday. On their way to tennis Luke Harborough notices that Hick Warrender waves his hat to a radiant-look-ing girl standing bareheaded at a cottage gate. On Monday Hick devotes the day to Mary Carr and on that morning Mrs. Fentiman drives past in her car. She recognises the girl, and greets Dick with a distant bow. CHAPTER IV. The weather forecast proved to be accurate. There was a change during Tuesday night. When Hick Warrender drew up his blind on Wednesday morning rain was falling fast, nor had it ceased by the time he went to bed. Though he had put on his trench coat, but not the one he had worn in the trenches, and walked past Virginia Cottage two or three times at intervals, nothing was to be seen of Miss Carr, nor did Dick meet with better fortune on Thursday. By that afternon he grew desperate. The sirn was shining again, and he seldom lacked audacity. Walking boldly to Mrs. Dale’s gate, he crossed ihe front garden and rang the bell. b>he came to the door, in the act of wiping her hands on her canvas apron. “Miss Carr went away yesterday afternoon,” she said. “You don’t mean she isn’t coming back?” exclaimed Dick. “On Saturday, she said,” was the “She didn’t take her luggage,” he urged. “Well, sir. she did take her suitcase, which was all she brought,” said Mrs. Dale. "She had paid for her rooms?” asked Dick. "A week in advance, that being my rule.’ “Still,” he cried, “you’re certain she «aid she would return?”

“Some time the day after to-mor row,” Mrs. Dale insisted.

Still he could not feel perfectly satisfied. And he felt like a fish out of water. He did not know how to kill time, though he was a practised hand. It was, however, not till late on Friday morning that he made up his mind. He must do something. He would go to town directly after luncheon. There was no chance of meeting her at Highstead till to-morrow at the earliest, but in all probability she- lived near Hyde Park Corner, where she had always dismissed him. Entering at the Marble Arch, he walked slowly along the path till he reached the Row, deserted save by one or two riding masters with their pupils, though there was a constant stream of motor-cars along the road by the palings.

A rhododendron bed was a blaze of vivid crimson, a band was playing somewhere near the statue of Achilles, though Dick could not see it. Suddenly his spirits rose with a bound, as he recognised a familiar form, not it is true, Miss Carr’s! Although one white Sealyham terrier is very much like another, he had little doubt about Bunch, on the lead and lying at the feet of a girl of about Mary’s age, or perhaps a year older, an inch or two taller, with a fuller figure. She wore her hair long; fair hair, yet brown rather than yellow. Golden hair, Dick perceived, would have created a quite different impression, inasmuch as it would have made her conspicuous. She was quietly dressed, and sat watching the miscellaneous collection of passers-by as if they provided amusement. The occasion seemed to call for skilful diplomacy on Dick Warrender’s part. If he played his cards carefully, he might be able to obtain important information. Unfortunately the adjoining chairs were occupied, that on her right by an elderly woman, that on her left by a pallid young man, reading a newspaper. But Dick had patience in a good cause. Walking on for a few yards, he presently tui'ned to retrace his steps and as he approached the dog again, the young man thrust his paper in his pocket and hastily rose as a man in uniform came to collect twopence for the seats. In the most leisurely fashion, Dick sat down. Letting his hand hang by his side he began to snap liis fingers, causing Bunch to cock his ears. "Bunch, old chap, good dog,” he said, whereupon the animal began to sniff at his shoes, and a moment later to

fresk about Dick’s legs. This seemed the time to raise his hat. The girl turned her head, and he sdw that she had grey eyes, with a humorous twinkle, though her rather wide mouth wore a demure expression. “Bunch and I are old pals,” ventured Dick, and she continued to stare with a half-amused expression which somewhat annoyed him. “Was it you,” she asked, “who bound up his paw so beautifully—and so unnecessarily?”

“I believe the little beggar remembers,” said Dick. “Who is it says a dog’s better than many a Christian? I’ve had the pleasure of seeing his mis-

tress—” “He belongs to me,” was the answer. “Sorry,” cried Dick. “I meant Miss

Carr.” “Oh, I see,” she returned, and he could not help contrasting her quiet self-possession with Mary’s eager animation. “I met Miss Carr again at Highstead,” he persisted. “Do you mean,” the girl suggested after a brief silence, “that she has found a situation there?” “A—situation!” said Dick, with a start. “Though,” she continued, “Miss Carr can scarcely have done that without applying for a reference.” “Good Lord!” Dick exclaimed, “does —does she want one?” “Very urgently indeed, I imagine.” “Upon my word,” said Dick irrepressibly, “she didn’t look like that.” “She wouldn’t,” was the answer. “Then,” he said reflectively, “I suppose she—she left you last Saturday.” “Yes, last Saturday.”

There was a faint smile on the face of Dick’s companion as she walked away, and Dick could not help suspecting that she had found a malicious pleasure in enlightening him about Mary’s actual position. For his own part, he felt badly in need of a drink, but as it was unfortunately too early to satisfy the craving, he rose from the chair, and walked back to the Marble Arch more quickly than he had come. Several times during the 20 minutes in the train Dick reminded himself of the danger of judging by appearances end after dinner that Friday evening he made his way to 11 Sycamore Gardens. whither Mrs. Harborough had removed from the larger house in the main road when the practice was sold after her husband’s death.

insisted that instead of carrying out his intention to take rooms in town he should let her find some at Highstead.

She had introduced him to Mrs. Fentiman, and, thanks no doubt partly to her ministrations, had soon recovered his strength. Still, he had shown no inclination to return to Oxford or look for work. He had become rapidly popular in the neighbourhood, a philanderer Mrs. Harborough was afraid, though in spite cf their disparity of age she expected he would end by marrying Frances. Mrs Harborough knew a good deal more of his affairs than he told Luke She was never afraid to question him or anybody. He was certainly not living on his income. He backed horses, took young women to places where they dance, and found it necessary to make frequent inroads on his capital. Still, Mrs. Harborough liked Dick Warrender. He would not willingly injure man, woman, or child. He was his own worst enemy. Tie was not only a voluble talker, but a sympathetic listener. His smile raised one’s spirits under lowering

Although she was listening to a violin solo on his arrival this evening, she was pleased to see him. And she fancied that, for once in a way, he looked quite lugubrious. He wanted to speak to Luke, he explained, and was told to find his own way to the smoking-room at the back of the hall, a box of a room, full of smoke this evening, while Harborough leaned back in an easy chair, thinking over the brief which he had just thrown on to the leather-topped writing table by the window.

Never had he known Dick Warrender so vehement. At considerable length

Dr. Harborough had left her with thiee children, two girls who were now married, one to a doctor at Cheltenham, the other to a minor canon at Canterbury, and Luke. Mrs. Harborough was a frail-looking little woman of superabundant energy, never looking quite well, but scarcely knowing what it was to be ill. Now that Luke was receiving a good many invitations, she was beginning to find the evenings rather dull, but a few w* eks ago he had bought a wireless st- 1. and she would sit for hours completely happy with the headphones in position. Dick Warrender had always been a favourite. Luke had invited him for a week, and Mrs. Harborough not only presesd him to stay a month, but

he described his rencontre with Bunch and the information he had gained from Bunch’s owner. “But, good gracious,” cried Luke, when he was at last silent, “what reason had you to assume that Miss Carr had a penny to bless himself with ? “You’ve seen her,” retorted Dick. “Wasn’t that enough. I could have sworn she had heaps of coin or I should have put the brake on sharp enough.” “You don’t as a rule,” suggested Luke. “My dear chap, this is the exception. I never felt the same toward any woman. before. If you sit there grinning I’ll throw something at you. I’m not saying I’ve never cared for a woman in my life ” “No,” murmured Luke, who had received. many confidences. “But I can tell you this,” Dick continued. “Till I saw Mary Carr I wanted to marry one.” “How on earth could you marry?” demanded Luke. (To be continued)