Leaves of Destiny

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 396, 3 July 1928, Page 5

Leaves of Destiny

Dorothea Corbould

Author or " A Fata. Fr.end.h.pr .. Mi« Fair Enemy, Held Bondage." *e.

CHAPTER X. 1 “I want Auntie Barb’ra, Daddy.” Anstruther and his little, sou were . spending a quiet hour together in the | former’s sanctum at Collingham Hall. Christmas was over—such a Christmas , as the child had never dreamed of — for he had soon wound himself round the hearts of his grandparents, and nothing was too good for him, in their loving eyes. In fact, he would ha.ve been quite spoilt between them but for the sweet temper and unselfish regard for others, which made him beloved by the entire household. And Reggie was happy, very happy, as he often assured his doting grannie, but there were times when his little mind went back to the days in Harker’s Buildings with his Auntie Barbara, and he longed to see her once more, and share with her his present happiness. Auntie Barbara tvould so have loved the beautiful things around him, the wonderful old house and the gardens, the big conservatories full of flowers, which old Thomas, the head gardener, delighted to show him; the carriage, with its high-stepping thoroughbreds, in which he went for drives with grannie: and the motor-car his father drove, into the neighbouring town when grandfather went to the cattle market, and Reggie saw all the cows and sheep and goats in their pens. But with the quick perception which an early training in watching his mother’s varying moods had implanted within him, Reggie saw that the mention of his Auntie Barbara’s name was not agreeable to his grandparents, chat anv reference to his former life was instantly checked, and that he was expected to forget that he had ever lived anywhere but at Collingham Hall. And so, gradually, he had left off quoting “Auntie Barb’ra” at all times, and repeating her maxims, and only when alone with his father, ventured to show how much he missed his beloved friend. “I do want to see Auntie Barb ra, Daddy,” he said again, as Anstruther did not answer, and, leaning more heavily against his father’s knee, he laid his head against his shoulder and sighed "Don’t you want to see her, too, Daddy?” “Yes, of course, old chap, and we shall see her soon, I hope.” “Very soon?” lifting shining eyes to those which were gazing thoughtfully into the fire. “Yes, when Daddy s foot is .sell enough to let him go to London. Then perhaps he will bring Auntie Barbara back with him.” “Really and truly?” “Really and truly.” This time Reggie’s sigh was one of supreme content. _ . "This tiresome ankle of mine ought to have been quite well by now, if I hadn’t been such a fool as to try that walk last week,” Anstruther muttered,

half to himself. “It has thrown nve back and Bryslop says I mustn’t mor e it for quite another fortnight, think of that, Reggie!” “Boes it hurt much,” Reggie a'sked, solicitously eyeing the bandage/ 7 i foot. ‘‘Thomas says he’s got a bon'* in his leg ‘as gives him the jumps every now and then.’ Boes your foot do that, too?” “Something like it. I wonder Auntie Barbara hasn’t written to us, Reggie, don’t you?” “No, ’cos Auntie Barh,*ra said she wasn’t going to write till I did, an’ grannie says I can’t wifrt'c letters yet an’ Auntie Barb’ra wouldn’t like anyone else to write them. I don’t b’lieve she’d mind you writing one daddy, do you?” “No —should think not. Suppose we write one now—-you and I between us.” “Oh, Daddy!” wiitk breathless glee, do lets!” “All right! fetch me that writing pad—l’ve got my fountain pen. Now, here goes •’* “Bear Auntie Barbara—daddy is writing for me because X can’t write any letters myself just yet—how’s that, Umpire?” “Splendid! Say I’ve got a pony here and a puppy named Jinks, and a kittie with a fluffy tail named Barb’ra after my auntie and grannie takes me out in the carriage and grandfer lets me go and see the cows and sheep and oxes in the market, and Thomas says I make the flowers grow looking at ’em, and —and ” “Come, old chap, not so fast! Bon’t you want to say first that you miss_ Auntie Barbara and want her here to see all your nice things?” “Of course I do—say that, Baddy ” “Can’t write letters myself yet,” Bonald repeated. “I am very happy here with daddy and grannie and grandfer, only I do want my Auntie Barbara and” —"so does daddy,” put in Reggie as the pen stopped writing and his father seemed to hesitate. “And so does daddy—but when his foot is well enough, be is going to London to see you and try to get you to come back here —so please, Auntie Barb’ra. think about it, because Reggie wants you so badly—he has many things to show you; his pony and the puppy and Barb’ra the kitten named after you, and the house and gardens “Yes—and grannie’ll take you for drives and daddy’s got a great big motor-car so that we can go to the market with grandfer, and see the cows and sheep and by’m bye there'll [ 'THE SHINE OF THE TIMES” ' Radium Polishes Boots, Floors. , Metals. Save Coupons—win a prize. 6.

be the teetry weeny lambs—won’t you say that, Ofaddy?” The pern flew over the paper—and Anstruth*jr read out “teeny weeny lambs”-~-adding, “That will do I think —I am sure Auntie Barbara won’t be able tw resist all that. Now we’ll just put ‘from your loving Reggie,’ and you can vuake a little cross here after your With a happy smile, Reggie did so, anr 7 ! then Anstruther added a word of hvs own: Brame.”

“I hope,” lie wrote, “that we may 'meet very soon now. My tiresome ankle has been troubling me very much again, owing to the fact that t tried to use it too quickly, before it was quuite well. I cannot tell you how X regret the unfortunate accident which prevented my going to fetch Reggie, as then I should have seen you again, and we could have discussed many things which I have in my mind to say to you ” A knock at the door stayed the swiftly moving pen which Reggie had been watching with admiring wonder, and a footman entered with some letters which had just come by the afternoon post. “Madame wishes Master Reggie to go to the drawing room, sir. if you can spare him,” the man said, as he placed the letters on the little table by Donald’s side. “All right. Run away, Reggie. I will see that your letter goes to the post all right,” and the next moment., after a grateful hug from his little son, Anstruther heard the door close, and Reggie’s shrill little voice clattering to Roberts, who was his special friend among the servants, as the two went downstairs to the drawing room. Then he took up his letters, and glanced at the envelopes, hoping against hope as he so often did at post times that Barbara might have written in answer to his letter telling her of his , unfortunate accident —and of which she had taken not the slightest notice, to his intense amazement and disappointment. But there was nothing. A few bills which he tossed aside, the notice of a meeting which he had promised to attend, and a letter whose handwriting he recognised as Teddy Mordaunt’s. The latter had spent Christmas at Collingham Hall, and was now in London, whither he had gone for a motor show, and the first night of the new revue at the Diadem Theatre. It was a pleasant, chatty letter, written in Teddy’s usual happy vein. After commiserating with his friend on his continued enforced absence from town, where they were to have met some weeks ago, the writer proceeded to give a graphic description ! of the new motor-car he had bought. 1 a big public dinner at which he had ' been obliged to make a speech, and an enthusiastic eulogy on the Diadem’s ■ new production and the performers > therein, adding—-

“By the bye that reminds me, I saw Miss Denning one afternoon about a fortnight ago, at a matinee at the Lyric” (Anstruther had told him all about Barbara’s having taken charge of Reggie), "with —of all people on earth—Lindsay Charters! I chaffed him about it, and from what I gathered, Miss Denning goes about with him a good deal. Between ourselves, though Charters is my friend. I am a bit sorry about it —he is an awful flirt, and is of course only amusing

himself. But it is a pity Miss Denning : should get herself talked about in connection with him. She is a nice girl I am sure —but still —well, it’s no concern of mine, of course. I met old Billy Royston the other day, looking a bit off colour, said he’d lost a pot of money through the war, but I don’t believe it, etc., etc.” Anstruther skipped the rest, and went back to the part about Barbara and Sir Lindsay Charters. It was an awful shock to him to find that after her apparent dislike and fear for Charters, Barbara should have accepted him as a friend and not scrupled to be seen in public with him! What could have changed her so completely? And he had been laying the flattering unction to his soul that he himself had been the favoured one —that presently, when he could go to London and see her again, he would fiud her welcoming his coming, and perhaps after a few meetings, listening to his vows of love and promising to be his wife. And he wanted her! How he wanted her! Reggie’s wistful voice uttering the same words, had touched a chord in his heart, revealing to him in a lightning flash the fact that he loved her with all the love of his life. That she was to him the one woman in all the world to make him happy! And now?—well, he would never enter the lists against Lindsay Charters —his idol had been dashed to the ground. Barbara Denning whom he had always thought of as being far removed from the modern type of bachelor girl, retiring, diffident, with a

mind as beautiful as her person, and j a strict regard to “les convenances’ was, after all, a fraud —taking all the pleasures which life offered her, no matter by whom, and evidently proud of her conquest of a man like Charters whose only recommendation was bis good looks and large income—and flattered as any other chorus girl would be, by his notice. Full of this angry, bitter, unjust condemnation of the innocent cause of it, Anstruther mechanically took up another letter with the stamp of the Hennicker Motor Hire Company on the envelope, and opened it. It contained the account for the hire of the car he had ordered to take Barbara Denning home from the Diadem Theatre, and a letter — “Dear Sir, —We are informed by our driver, Thomas Bates, that the car you ordered for the evenings is no longer required. We, therefore, presume that it is your wish that the order should be cancelled, and enclose our account for same to date.”—Yours obediently, Hennicker and Co.” So! She had given up the car! A further proof that she was accepting Charters's escort from the theatre. Well, let her accept it—and him.. What did it matter, since he himself had no longer any part or lot in her life? But oh! The pity of it! —the pity—! Anstruther tore up the letter he had written for Reggie, and throwing the fragments into the fire, watched till they were reduced to ashes. Then he wrote a cheque and enclosed it with Henniker’s bill, telling himself that this one pleasant episode in his life was ended. Never would he believe in any woman again. They were all alike, worldly, calculating, i "... at best a contradiction 5ti11...” and especially was this truth exemplified in her whom he had believed to be perfection. ' And Barbara herself, what of her? With her future hidden in the “shady leaves of Destiny.” Could it be that she was slowly ! drifting away from the haven of reserve and self-respect which she had vowed nothing should induce her to - abandon? How often had she told . herself that the pleasure-seeking lives of the other girls at the theatre should 1 never be hers? j And yet, she was but human after ' all, this lovely disappointed heroine of mine! Her sweet dream of happiness lay shattered behind her —why

j not take the goods the gods seemed inclined to give her in its stead? And for her excuse be it said, that Sir Lindsay Charters never for one moment forgot the role he had assumed of a kind, sympathetic friend. Always courteous and respectful, never in any way presuming on Barbara's evident change of opinion regarding him, his attentions never went further than an evident desire to lighten her lot as far as possible and give her pleasure. An enjoyable little dinner before the theatre, a drive in his car to Kew or Richmond for tea, when the swift passing through the sweet, soft air of early spring brought the roses to her cheeks and seemed to blow away the cobwebs of dread and misery from her heart. This was all—and for some weeks Barbara lived in a fool’s paradise all unwitting of the web that fate was weaving around her. The awekening, however, was not long in coming. The new revue at the Diadem Theatre bade fair to be as great a success 1 as the “Forest Queen” had been, and Barbara had been given a small part . with a song, which was quite a feature ; in the performance—and filled Lil MacArthur with envious rage. Nor was t the latter’s animosity against her un- > derstudy lessened by the fact that Sir t Lindsay’s attentions towards herself had of late considerably fallen off, il 3 they had not ceased altogether, and ; there were not wanting among the 1 chorus those who revenged themi selves for her haughty demeanour tot ward them, by belling her of Sir Lind- [ say’s infatuation for Miss Denning, 3 and the latter’s acceptance of his friendly advances. Once or twice a e spiteful remark on the subject to Barbara herself bed elicited such a >• haughty stare of surprise and disgust _ —the only notice the recipient took of •j them, that Lil had to content herself with seizing upon every opportunity of trying to make mischief for her successful rival with the other members of the company. Y Barbara still nefused Sir Lindsay's

escort from the theatre after the evening performance, and Herbert Knowles was made happy by being allowed to see her to her ’bus as heretofore. Bates had apparently given up waiting for her with the car, for she never caught sight of him now, and tried to stifle her feelings of regret and disappointment therea', telling herself that she had done quite right in refusing any further favours at the hands of Mr. Anstruther. One evening a note was sent to her at the theatre from Sir Lindsay Charters, telling her that he had a box for a charity matinee at His Majesty’s theatre on the following afternoon and begging she would give him the pleasure of her company. “I know you want to see the Russian dancers,” ran the note, "and it is an ‘all star’ matinee, therefore, l think you should not miss It.” And Barbara, though realising the fact that she had already accepted too many of Sir Lindsay’s invitations, was . sorely tempted by the opportunity of witnessing the brilliant display of talI ent of the world's greatest artistes, 1 an opportunity which might never occur again, and greatly against her better judgment, wrote an acceptance. 1 The theatre was packed from floor ‘ to ceiling with a fashionable crowd. | and Sir Lindsay, who knew most of : the people by sight, and several personally, painted them out as they ‘ came in, to Barbara’s great delight. especially as regarded the celebrities. 3 "There is Captain Mordaunt,” she i said, as she brought Sir Lindsay’s •- opera glasses to bear on the dress i circle. “Sitting in the third row with t a lady ’’ f “Yes, he always comes to these I shows,” was the reply, but Barbara J thought the speaker was not best s pleased at the fact. “That’s the girl he’s engaged to. s He wanted this box. only I got it - first.” “She’s very pretty,” murmured Barbara. “Think so? For my part I have - seen prettier,” and the glance which accompanied the remark told the girl that the "prettier” applied to herself. d making her colour with annoyance. •2 .(To be continued.)