Hillman

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 171, 10 October 1927, Page 14

Hillman

E. PHILLES OPPENHELM

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS Chapters 1 and 2. —Louise finds that she, maid and chaffeur, are stranded on the Cumberland Hills. The car has broken down. The Hillman comes to their aid. Me escorts them to his home. John iStrangrewey introduces Louise to his elder b-other. Stephen. The family havo a keen dislike to the fair sex, and it is years s nee a woman crossed the threshold Stephen’s welcome is hostile. In the large old-fashioned bedroom Louise notes the family tree. The name Strangewey sounds fs.miliar. At the foot of the s airs John meets her in evening dress. I.ouise adapts herself, and does justice to the formidable meal. Stephen announces that they are haters of her sex, aad enters into some family particulars to Justify this attitude. The family portraits are examined. At ten o’clock she bids them goodnight. Chapters 3 and 4. —Louise finds her maid Aline, on awakening the next morning. Stie partakes of an ample breakfast- Aline recollects that the reason why the name o' Strangewey seemed familiar was because a farmer of that name in the north o* England had had a vast fortune left to him from a relative in Australia. Louise joins John, who shows her the beauties of the place. They visit the churchyard. Stephen joins them with the intimation that her car is ready. He then walks away. John and Louise discuss some o: the deeper problems of life, and Louise declares she has something to say to him. Chapters 4 (continued), 5 and 6. —John a »d Louise discuss the laws of life, and sl e tries to make him see her viewp- *int. She finds he is the Stangewey w ho has inherited that large fortune. He p omises her that, if the call to a wider li e comes, he will obey it. The Prince oi Seyre arrives in his car, seeking Louise. She regrets that she cannot accompany him, as Henri Graillot earnestly demands her presence in London. The Prince gives John Strangewey a courteous invitation to the shooting. The party leaves for Kendal to catch the express for London. Three) months later John is confronted by Stephen, who asks hi« brother whether he is thinking of that woman yet. He points cut that she is an actress in doubtful plays. John denies that there is anything wrong, and hurls back the insults that Stephen heaps upon L:>uise. Chapters 6 (continued), 7 and B. —ln ai ger John leaves his brother, and, seeking solitude, reviews his position. He drives into Market Kettori, puts his trap into the hands of a man to take back to P sak Hall. Then he flings himself into a train and goes straight to London. There is an undress rehearsal n progress on tie stage. Graillot and his English friends disagree as to what is best suited tc an English audience. They go through the first act, and then proceed to the third. Louise notices a figure. It is John Sirangewey. She introduces him to the company. Miles Faraday takes him to a s€ at at the back of the stage, and the play proceeds. Afterwards the Prince of S« yre converses with Strangewey. Louise takes John to the Carlton. She says she is glad he has come to London. He says th at he has come to be near her. Strangew*y is not impressed by the people he sees at the Carlton. CHAPTER VIII (Continued) “I though you would come,” Louise said at last; “and I am glad, but even in these first few minutes I want to

say something to you. If you wish to succeed in your object, and really understand the people you meet here, and the life they lead, don’t be like your brother —too quick to judge. Do not hug your prejudices too tightly. You will come across many problems, many situations which will seem strange to you. Do not make up your mind about anything in a hurry.” “I haven’t come to be a nuisance,” he assured her. “I just want a little help from you.” She became indiscreet. She looked at him v.'ith a little smile at the corners of her lips. “Nothing else?” she asked, almost under her breath. “At the end of it all, yes,” he answered simply. “I want to understand because it is your world. I want to feel myself nearer to you. I want—” She gripped at the arm suddenly. She knew well enough that she bad deliberately provoked his words, but there was a look in her face almost of fear. “Don’t let us be too serious all at once,” she begged quickly. “If you have one fault, my dear big friend from the country,” she went on, with a swiftly assumed gaiety, “it is that you are too serious for your years. Sophy and I between usi must try to cure you of that! You see, we have arrived. The Prince of Seyre beckoned to them from the steps. He seemed to have been awaiting their arrival there;—a cold, immaculate, and, considering his lack of height, a curiously distin-guished-looking figure. “I have a table inside,” he told them as they approached. “It is better for conversation. The rest of the place is like a bear-garden. I am not sure if they will dance here to-day, but if they do, they will come also into the restaurant.” “Wise man!” Louise declared. “I, too, hate the babel outside.” They were ushered to a round table directly before the entrance, and a couple of attentive waiters stood behind their chairs. “We are faced,” said the prince, as he took up the menu, “with our daily problem. What can I order for you?” “A cup of chocolate,” Louise replied. “And Miss Sophy?”. “Tern, please.” John, too, preferred tea; the prince ordered absinthe. Mr. Strangewey,” said Louise. “tell us just what you are thinking.” “Well, just at the moment,” he replied, “I was thinking that I ought not to have come here in these clothes.” “As a matter of fact, you wouldn’t have done anything more successful,” Sophy declared. “The one thing up here that every one would like to do if he T will remember that,” he promised. “You must remember, though, that I don’t expect ever to become a convert. I believe I am a countryman, bred and born. Still, there are some things that I want to understand, if I can, and,

more than anything else —I want to see you!’" ‘‘Tell me exactly why.” “If I could tell you that,” he replied simply, “I should be able to answer for myself the riddle which has kept me awake at night for weeks and months, which has puzzled me more than anything else in life has ever done.” “You really have thought of me, then?” “Didn’t you always know that I should?” “Perhaps.” she admitted. “Anyhow, I always felt that we should meet again, that you would come to London. The problem is,” she added, smiling, “what to do with you now you are here.” dared is to be different from; his fellows; but very few have the necessary courage. Besides, at heart, we are all so frightfully, hatefully imitative- The last great success was the prince, when he wore a black stock with a dinnercoat; but, alas, next evening there were forty or fifty of them!” “Don’t chatter too much, child,” Louise said. “What do you think of this crowd, Mr. Strangewey—the women, for instance?” “Well, to me,” John confessed candidly, “they all look like dolls or mannikins. Their dresses and their hats overshadow their faces. They seem all the time to be wanting to show, not themselves, but what they have on.” They all laughed. Even the prince’s lips were parted by the flicker of a smile. Sophy leaned across the table with a sigh. “Louise,” she pleaded, “you will lend him to me sometimes, won’t you?

You won’t keep him altogether to yourself? There are such a lot of places I want to take him to!” “I was never greedy,” Louise remarked, with an air of self-satisfac-tion. “If you succeed in making a favourable impression upon him, I promise you your share.” “Tell us some more of your impressions, Mr. Strangewey,” Sophy begged. “You want to laugh at me,” John protested good-humouredly. “On the contrary,” the prince assured him, as he fitted a. cigarette into a long amber tube, “they want to laugh with you. You ought to realise your value as a companion in these days. You are the only person who can see the truth. Eyes and tastes blurred with custom perceive so little. You are quite right when you say that these women are like mannikins; that their bodies and faces are lost; but one does not notice it until it is pointed out.” “We will revert,” Louise decided, “to a more primitive life. You and I will inaugurate a missionary enterprise, Mr. Strangewey. We will judge the world afresh. We will reclothe and rehabilitate it.” The prince flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. “Morally as well as sartorially?” he asked. There was a moment’s rather queer silence. The music rose above the hubbub of voices and died away again. Louise rose to her feet.

“Quite an intelligent person, really,” she said, moving her head in the direction of the prince. “His little attacks of cynicism come only with indigestion or

after absinthe. Now, if you like, you shall escort me home, Mr. Strangewey. I want to show him exactly where I live,” she explained, addressing the others, “so that he will have no excuse for not coming to pay his respects to me to-morrow afternoon.” The prince, with a skilful manoeuvre, made his way to her side as they left the restaurant. ‘‘To-morrow afternoon, I think you said?” he repeated quietly. ‘‘You will be in town then?” ‘‘M. Graillot will not listen to my leaving London,” she interrupted rapidly. ‘‘He declares that it is too near the production of the play- My own part may be perfect, but he needs me for the sake of the others. He puts it like a Frenchman, of course.” They had reached the outer door, which was being held open tor them by a bowing commissionaire. John and Sophy were waiting upon the pavement. The prince drew a little back. “I understand!” he murmured. The first few minutes that John spent in Louise’s little house were full of acute and vivid interest. From the moment of his first meeting with Louise upon the moonlit Cumberland road, during the whole of that next wonderful morning until their parting, and afterwards, through all the long, dreaming days and nights that had intervened, she had remained a mystery to him. It was amazing how little he really knew of her. During his journey to town he had sat with folded arms in the corner of his compartment, wondering whether in her own environment he would find her easier to understand. CHAPTER IX. He asked himself that question again now, as he found himself in her drawing-room, in a room entirely redolent of her personality. Their meeting at the theatre had told him nothing. She had gratified his sentiment by the pleasure she had shown at his unexpected appearance, but his understanding remained unsatisfied. He drew a little sigh of contentment as he rose to his feet and walked to the window. The room charmed him. It was wonderful that he should find it like this. His heart began to beat with pleasure even before the opening of the door announced her presence. She came in with Sophy, who at once seated herself by his side. ‘‘We have been making plans,” Louise declared, ‘‘for disposing of you for the rest of the day.” John smiled happily. ‘‘You’re not sending me away, then? You’re not acting this evening?” ‘‘Not until three weeks next Monday,” she replied. ‘‘Then, if you are good, and the production is not postponed, you may seat yourself in a box and make all the noise you like after the fall of the curtain. These are real holidays for me, except for the nuisance of rehearsals. You couldn’t have come at a better time.” Sophy glanced at the clock. “Well,” she said, “I must show my respect to that most ancient of adages by taking my departure. I feel—” “You will do nothing of the sort, child,” Louise interrupted. “I want to interest you in the evolution of Mr. Strangewey.” “I don’t feel that I am necessary,” Sophy sighed. “Perhaps I might take him off your hands some evening when you are busy.” “On this first evening, at any rate,” Louise insisted, “we are going to be a truly harmonious party of three.” “Of course, if you really mean it,” Sophy remarked, resuming her seat, “and if I shan’t make an enemy for life of Mr. Strangewey, I should love to come, too. Let’s decide what to do with him, Louise.” “We must remember,” Louise said calmly, “that a heavy responsibility rests upon us. It is his first night in London. What aspect of it shall we attempt to show him? Shall we make

ourselves resplendent, put on our best manners and our most gorgeous gowns and show him the world of starch and form and fashion from the prince’s box at the opera? Or shall we transform ourselves into Bohemians, drink Chianti at our beloved Antonio's, eat Italian food in Soho, smoke long cigarettes, and take him to the Palace? Don’t say a word, Sophy. It is not for us to choose.” “I am afraid there isn’t any choice,” John declared, his face falling. “I haven’t any clothes except what you see me in.” “Hooray!” Sophy exclaimed. “Off with your smart gown, Louise! We’ll be splendidly Bohemian. You shall put on your black frock and a black hat, and powder your nose, and we’ll all go to Guido’s first and drink vermuth.

I can’t look the part, but T can act it!” “But tell me,” Louise asked him, “did you lose your luggage?” “I brought none,” he answered. They both looked at him—Sophy politely curious, Louise more deeply

interested. He answered the inquiry in her eyes. “You’ll say, perhaps,” he observed, “that living that quiet, half-buried life up in Cumberland one should have no moods. I have them sometimes. I was in Market Ketton, on my way to the hotel for lunch, when I heard the whistle of the London Express comirg in. I just had time to drive to the station, leave the horse and dog-cart with a man I knew, and jump into the train. I had no ticket or luggage.” They both stared at him. “You mean,” Louise demanded, “that after waiting all these months you started away upon impulse like thatwithout even letting your brother know or bringing any luggage?” “That’s exactly what I did,” John agreed, smiling. “I had a sovereign in my pocket when I had bought my ticket; and by the time I had paid for my dinner on the train, and tipped the men—well, I hadn’t a great deal left to go shopping with. I stayed at the Sst. Pancras Hotel, and telephoned to my solicitor before I got up this morning to have him send me some money. The

joke of it was,” he went on, joining fc the girls’ laughter, “that Mr. Appleton has been worrying me for months to come up and talk over reinvestments, and take control of the money my uncle left me, and when I came at lMt I arrived like a pauper. He went out himself and bought my shirt.” “And a very nice shirt, too,” Sophy declared, glancing at the pattern. ‘Do tell us what else happened!” “Well, not much more,” John replied “Air. Appleton stuffed me full of money and made me take a little suite of rooms at what he called a mow fashionable hotel. He stayed to lunch with me, and I have promised to see him on business to-morrow morning" The two girls sat up and wiped their eyes. “Oh, this is a wonderful adventure you have embarked upon” Louise exclaimed. “You have come right in to right spirit. Now I am going to changs my clothes and powder my face, and we will go to Guido’s for a little vermuth. To be continued.