The Hillman

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 175, 14 October 1927, Page 14

The Hillman

E-PHILLIPS OPPENHEIN

SYNOPSIS OP PREVIOUS CHAPTERS Chapters 1 and 2.—Louise finds that she, her maid and chaffeur, are stranded on the Cumberland Hills. The car has broken down. The Hillman comes r.o their aid. He escorts them to his home. John Straogewey Introduces Louise to his elder brother, Stephen. The family have a keen dislike to the fair sex, and it is years since a woman crossed the threshold Stephen’s welcome is hostile. In the large old-fashioned bedroom Louise notes the family tree. The name Strange wey sounds familiar. At the foot of the stairs John meets her in evening dress. Louise adapts herself, and does justice to the formidable meal. Stephen announces than they are haters of her sex, and enters inno 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. She partakes of an ample breakfast- Aline recollects that the reason why the name of Strange wey seemed familiar was because a farmer of that name In the north of 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 of the deeper problems of life, and Louise declares she has something to say to him. Chapters 4 (continued), 5 and 6.—John and Louise discuss the laws of life, and she tries to make him see her viewpoint. She finds he is the Stangewey who has Inherited that large fortune He promises her that, if the call to a wider life comes, lie will obey it. The Prince of Seyre arrives in his car, seeking Louise. She regrets that she cannot accompany him, as Henri Grail!ot earnestly demands her presence in London. The Prince gives John Strasigewey a courteous Invitation to the shooting. The party leaves for Kendal to catch the express foi London. Three months iater John is confronted by Stephen, who asks his brother whether he is thinking of that woman yet. He points out that she is an actress in doubtful plays John denies that there is anything wrong, and hurls back the insults that Stephen heaps upon Louise.

Chapters 6 (continued), 7 and B. —ln anger John leaves his brother, and, seeking solitude, reviews his position. He drives into Market Ketton, puts his trap Into the hands of a man to take back to Peak Hall. Then he flings himself into a. train and goes straight to London There: is an undress rehearsal in progress or. the stage. Graillot and his English friends disagree as to what is best suited to an English audience. They go through tHe first act, and then proceed to the third. Louise notices a figure. It is John Strangewey She introduces him to the company. Miles Faraday takes him to a seat at the back of the stage, and the play proceeds. Afterwards the Prince of Seyre converses with Strangewey. Louise takes John tc the Carlton She says she is glad he has come to London He says that he has come to be near her Strangewey is not impressed by the people he pees at the Carlton.

CHAPTER XIII. “Why are you so foolish?'* she murmured. “Louise is very wonderful, in her place, but she is not what you want in life. Has it never occurred to you that you may be too late?” “What do you mean?” he demanded. “I believe what the world believes, what some day I think she will admit to herself —that she cares for the Prince of Seyre.” “Has she ever told you so?” “Louise never speaks of these things to any living: soul. I am only telling you what I think. I am trying to save you pain—trying for my own sake as well as yours.” He paid his bill and stopped to help her with her cloak. Her heart sank, her lips quivered a little. It seemed to her that he had passed to a great distance. “Very soon,” John said, “I shall ask Louise to tell me the truth. I think that I shall ask her, if I can, to-morrow!” On the following morning John’s bell rang. He opened the door, to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside. “I pay you a very early visit, I fear,” the latter began. “Not at all,” John replied, taking the pipe from his mouth and throwing open the door. “It is very good of you to come and see me.” The prince followed John into the little sitting-room. He was dressed, as usual, with scrupulous care. “It occurred to me,” he said, as he seated himself in an easy chair, “that if yo"u are really intending to make this experiment in town life of which Miss Maurel spoke, I might be of some assistance to you. There are certain matters, which a little advice in the beginning may save you trouble.” “Very good of you, I am sure,” John repeated. “To tell you the truth, I was just looking through the telephone directory to see if I could come across the name of a tailor I used to have some things from.” “If it pleases you to place yourself in my hands,” the prince suggested, “I will introduce you to my tradespeople. I have made the selection with some care.” “That will suit me admirably,” John declared. “If you will just give me the addresses—l couldn’t think of taking up your time.” “I have, fortunately, an idle morning,” the prince said, “and it is entirely at your disposal. At half past one I believe we are both lunching with Miss Maurel.” John was conscious of a momentary sense of annoyance. His tete-a-tete with Louise seemed farther off than ever. At the prince’s suggestion, however, he fetched his hat and gloves and

entered the former’s automobile, which was waiting below. “Miss Maurel,” the prince remarked, as they glided off westward, “is, I believe, inviting a few friends to meet you. If you would feel more comfortable in town clothes, I think the tailor to whom I am taking you will able to arrange that. He makes special preparations for such emergencies.” “I will do what you think best,” John agreed. They spent the morning in the neighbourhood of Bond Street, and John laid the foundations of a wardrobe more extensive than any he had ever dreamed of possessing. At half past one they were shown into Louise’s little drawing-room. There were three or four men already present, standing around their hostess and sipping some faint yellow cordial from long Venetian glasses. Louise came forward to meet them and made a little grimace as she remarked the change in John’s appearance. “Honestly, I don’t know you, and I don’t believe I like you at all!” she exclaimed. “How dare you transform yourself into a tailor’s dummy in this fashion?” “It was done entirely out of respect for you,” John said. “In fact,” the prince added, “we considered that we had achieved rather a success.” “I suppose I must look on your effort as a compliment,” Louise sighed, “but it seems queer to lose even so much of you. Shall you take up our manners and our habits, Mr. Strangewey, as easily as you wear our clothes?” “That I cannot promise,” he replied “The brain should adapt itself at least as readily as the body,” the prince remarked. M. Graillot, who was one of tho three men present, turned around. “Who is talking platitudes?” he

demanded. “I write plays, and that is my monopoly. Ah, it is the prince, I see! and our‘ young friend who interrupted us at rehearsal yesterday.” “And whom I am anxious to have you meet again,” Louise intervened. “You remember his name, perhaps—Mr. John Strangewey.” Graillot held out his left hand to the prince and his right to John. “Mr. Strangewey,” he said, “I congratulate you! Any person who has the good fortune to interest Miss Maurel is to be congratulated. Yet must I look at you, and feel myself puzzled. You are not an artist —no? You do not paint or write?” John shook his head. “Mr. Strange wey’s claim to distincttion is that he is just an ordinary man,” Louise observed. “Such a relief, you know, after all you clever people! And that reminds me, Miles,” she added, turning to the actor, “I asked you here, too, especially to meet Mr. Strangewey again. Mr.' Faraday is one of the most dangerous guides in London a young man could have. He knows everybody and everything unknowable and yet worth knowing. I present him to you as a hero. He is going to make love to me three hours a night 4or very many nights, we hope.” John shook hands with everybody and sipped the contents of the glass which had been handed to him. Then a butler opened the door and announced luncheon. Louise offered her hand to the prince, who stepped back. “It shall be the privilege of the stranger within our gates,” he decided. Louise turned to John with a little smile. “Let me show you, then, the way to my dining-room. I ought to apologise for not asking some women to meet you. I tried two on the telephone but they were engaged.” “I will restore the balance,” the prince

promised, turning from the contemplation of one of the prints hanging in the hall. “I am giving a supper party to-night for Mr. Strangewey, and I will promise him a preponderance of your charming sex.” “Am I invited?” Louise inquired The prince shook his head. “Alas, no!” They passed into a small dining-room, and here again John noticed that an absolute simplicity was paramount. “A supper party to which I am not invited,” said Louise, as she took her place at the table and motioned John to a seat by her side, “fills me with curiosity. Who are to be your guests, prince?” “Calaveira and her sprites,” the prince announced. > “Mr. Strangewey,” she said, tjfrning to John, “let me warn you. You are to meet to-night a woman for whom kings are reported to sigh in vain, at whose feet the jeunesse doree of the world pours out its riches. Is it kind of the prince, I wonder, to try and seal your fate so soon?” John laughed easily. He met the challenge in her eyes and answered it. “If you are talking of the great Calavera„” he said, “she will be far too wonderful a lady to take any notice of a yokel like myself. And besides —” “Besides ?” the prince intervened. “I have! only seen her photographs and read of her,” John remarked, “but I don’t think she would attract me very much.” The conversation drifted away to reminiscer.ies of other great dancers. Louise, under its cover, devoted her attention to her guest. “First of all,” she asked, “tell me how you like my little friend?” “I think she is charming,” John answered without hesitation. “We went to a supper club last night and stayed till about half-past three.” “A supper club?” John nodded. “Really,” said Louise, “I am not sure that I approve of this. A supper club with Sophy until half-past three in the morning!” He looked at her quickly. “You don’t mind?” “My dear man, why should I mind?” she returned. “WJiat concern is it of mine if you and Sophy care to amuse each other? It is exactly what I hoped for.” “That’s ail right, then,” John declared, with a sigh of relief. “Do you know,” he went on, lowering his voice, “that I am just a little disappointed about to-day?” “Disappointed? After I have taken the trouble to give a luncheon party for you?” “I should have thought it a greater compliment, and liked it better, if you had asked me to lunch with you alone,” he said. She shook her head. “It would have been a wasted opportunity. You have come up to London with a purpose. You have an experiment to make —an experiment in living. All these men can help you.” “The greater part of my experi - ment,” he pointed out, “needs the help of only one person—and that person is you.” She moved a little uneasily in her chair. It might have been his fancy, but be imagined that she glanced under her eyelids toward the Prince of Seyre. The prince, however, had turned almost ostentatiously away from her. He was leaning across the table, talking to Faraday- “ You have not lost your gift of plain speech,” she observed. “I hope I never shall,” he declared. “It seems to me to be the simplest and best plan, after all, to say what you feel and to ask for what you want.” “So delightful in Cumberland and

Utopia,” she sighed; “so impracticable here!” “Then since we can’t find Utopia, come back to Cumberland,” lie suggested. “I wonder,” she murmured, “whether I shall ever again see that dear, wonderful old house of yours, and the mist on the hills, and the stars shining here and there through it, and the moon coming up in the distance!” “All these things you will see again,” he assured her confidently. “It is because I want you to see them again that I am here.” “Just now, at this minute, I feel a longing for them,” she whispered, looking across the table, out of the window, to the softly-waving trees. At the close? of the luncheon a servant handed around coffee and liquers. The prince turned to Louise. “You must not keep our young friend too late,” he said. “He has appointments with his tailor and other myrmidons who have undertaken to adorn his person.” “Alas,” replied Louise, rising, “I, too, have to go early to my dressmaker’s. Do the honours for me, prince, will you?—and I will make my adieus now.” They all rose. She nodded to Graiil- ’ lot and Faraday. The prince moved to stand by the dopr. For a moment isbe and John were detached from the others. “I want to see you alone,” he said under his breath. “When can I?” “I am so busy,” she murmured. “Next week there are rehearsals nearly every minute of the day.” “To-morrow,” John said insistently. “You have no rehearsals then. I must see you. I must talk to you without this crowd.” It was his moment. Her half-formed resolution fell away before the compelling ring in his voice and the earnest pleading in his eyes. “I will be in,” she promised, “to-mor-row at six o’clock.” (To be Continued.)