THE BEST LAID SCHEMES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 60, 5 October 1907, Page 4

THE BEST LAID SCHEMES.

I was seated alone at my desk in our private ollicc one morning when Uewson came in with the balance-sheet. lb sat down, lingering the paper nervously. ("We," 1 should explain, were "Grant and llewson," stockbrokers, etc. Apart from the business, we bad just one oilier interest in common—Uladys Graham.) "Well?" I said, as my partner did not speak. "it's bad," he answered gloomily; "worse than 1 thought. There's only one thing possible to be done that I cau see." "What is that?" ''One ot' us will have to marry Mrs Ellersby." -Mrs Ellersby was a wealthy widow with whom we had been acquainted for about twelve months. She liked us—me particularly, though 1 say it who shouldn't.

"Vou &cem to take her consent as a matter of course," 1 remarked caustically. "Why jiot assume the responsibility yourself, it you arc so cocknuru? I am perfectly willing to stand aside.'' J was not entirely disinterested, of coins,-. I was thinking all lliy time of Gladys. "No.'' said ITcwson quickly, ''that would be hardly fair. We'll toss for it—that is if you are agreeable—the loser to propose first, and the olkev to | follow if he is refused. It's the only j way we can be saved from utter smash." j Following on the heels of that state-: ment came ten minutes or move of av- 1 gument and expostulation—the latter from me, for X didn't like it, and said so. But Hewsou was iusistent. Eventually he produced a coin, tossed it in the air, and caught it- as it fell. "Man or woman!" he cried. "Sudden death!" "Man!" I jerked out, Ilewson displayed the coin. It was "woman!" I felt sick. Here was I, committed to proposingg to a woman I did not love, simply because her money would save the linn from ruin. It was preposterous—unthinkable; and besides, there was Gladys', "I can't do it!" I muttered.

Hewson smiled unpleasantly. lie said, "you've got to now—unless you mean to go kick on your bargain. After all, she may refuse you. It was my only hope—but a poor one. Eight o'clock the same evening found me in Mrs Ellerby's flat. As you may suppose, ray feelings were anything but lover-like, but, having got over the conventional preliminaries, I came with speed to the object of my visit. "Marion," I said, taking her hand, '•you have received me hero frequently, and always with apparent pleasure; would vnu Ih\ pleased if you might have me always?*' It was out. and I telt what 1 was—a cad of all cads; but, looking into her 1 knew mv fate before she spoke a word. ''You dear boy." >he murmured, 'To,i don't mean to say you are proposing to mc?''

"lint I am," T responded, carried away for the moment by her manner. "T am asking you to be my wife. Will you— Marion V' "Of course T will," she whispered, lifting her blu-diing face to mine. "You ' have -made me very, very happy. Gilbert." Oh, the bitter irons of it! I nearly groaned aloud. In giving happiness to tlii* woman, I bad for ever forfeited my own: [ received Hewson's contratulat ions the same evening, and although there wad something in his manner as k

j offered tlicin (hat [ did not like, I was | too miserable to resent it just then, i j Next morning he was already at the ollice whoil I arrived. "By the way," he remarked casually, "1 called on the (iraliams last night e.fter 1 left you, and told them of your engagement. They gave me their congratulations to pass to you. Gladys sent her best wishes." "Confound your oiliciottsnoss!" I said angrily. "Vou might very well have left fie to a'ttend to my own business there."

| "As to that," he responded sneerj ingly, you can have no personal lmsi- | lie s there at all now. I doubt even if | .Miss (irahain would care to meet you." I This .second allusion to Gladys s'tung me into fury. | "Look hero, llewson," 1 exclaimed, "t see the game you've been playing now. You've got me to commit myself with -Marion so (hat you should have a elear

field with (iladys. But it's not yet too late for mo to go back. I've been a fool, and I've made a mistake. I'll tell Marion so, and face what follows." "You won't do anything of the sort!" shouted llewson in a passion. "I will!" 1 shouted back. "And I'll do it now!" Full of determination, I rushed out and chartered a hansom to Marion's Hat. But on my arrival there I found my fiancee in tears. . "Oh. Gilbert," she cried, when she saw me, "I'm so glad you've come. I

[ was ill dreadful trouble; read that!" I So saying she handed me a eableI gram. "Arthur dangerously ill," I read. "Come first boat." "It. is my favorite brother," site ex- ! plained. "I must go out to him—to .Mombasa—at once." "Of course," 1 murmured. "In what way can I be of service to you?" In spite of her evident distress, I am afraid my first feeling was one of relief. To toll her of my resolve now would bo sheer cruelty, I argued, and her temporary absence would at least bring a measure of respite. Her next words, however, plunged me deeper into misery than before. "Gilbert," sho said tremulously, clasping my arm, "I must indeed go—but, darling, let it be as your wife. I may bo long away—and anything may happen—" "But, my dear—" I began.

"Oli, you are not going to refuse?" she cried hysterically. "And I had to set my heart on it, too! There is 110 diliiculty at all. The boat does not leave until Friday, and this is Tuesday. You can get a special license, which will enable the wedding to take place, on Friday, before I start. Call it a woman's whim or whatever you like, dear; bu.t don't, don't refuse me!" The poor girl looked up at me, her eyes pleading and full of tears; and, Gladys and my own torn heart notwithstanding, I promised that it sliould be even as she wished. On (he following Friday I went through the ceremony of marriage with Marion, and afterwards escorted her to Charing Cross station. The happenings of the last few days had seemed to me part of a bad dream, from which I should presently awake; and the wonder was that she did not notice my lack of bridegroom-like spirit. At parting she clung to me weeping, while. I tried not to let her see what I felt, and at last the train bore her away.

As I emerged from the station llcwson appeared, "Well," lie said, attempting jocularity, "come and celebrate the occasion. I suppose yon got the power of attorney signed?" lie added, anxiously.

'"Yes," T answered curtly. "I have carried out our bargain; and now I ani going to see that any of the money I advance, the firm under the powers it gives lue is properly protected and applied."

Hewson reddened uneasily. "Naturally yon would take care of that." he said. "But come and have a drink 011 the event," he added quickly. "Thanks." f said; "we'll dispense with that, if you don't mind. I don't know that the occasion is one for particular jubilation. T fancy it is rather the other way about." I saw little of Ilewson for a fortnight or so, save during business hours; but one morning thereafter he appeared at the office in unusually high spirits. "I hardly know how you'll take it," he liegan, "but if I don't tell you pow you'll get to know sooner or later. I'm engaged to Gladys Graham." As it happened, he could scarcely have chosen a more inopportune moment in which to make that announcement. I controlled myself by an effort, and looked up from the books 011 which I had been busy since tile previous day. "Considering what I have found here," I remarked tersely, "it would be the merest mockery to say I am glad. Nor can I congratulate Miss Graham on gaining for a husband an honest man."

ITewson changed color. "I menu that you have forfeited all claim to bp recorded as such." I returned hotly. "Those hooks, which I loft to you to supervise, have boon manipulated to show our position to be bad instead of good—to show us in a hole when we wero not in one—to enable you, in shortvto force me into the course I took in marrying Marion KUersby?" "And am I responsible also for the sick brother and the special license?" he sneered.

"J'ha t will do/' I said warningly. "You will gain little by irritating me now. About these books—you are going to admit I am right, or must I call in an auditor to prove it?' 5 "Oh, I may as well admit It," lie answered sullenly, "But all's fair in love and war, they say. 1 suppose, though, you won't care to work with me after this, and we'd better bring the partnership to an end?" "You have voiced my views exactly," 1 said. "And the sooner we separate the better."

"Very well." he answered. "But I don't much care. Old Graham has practically promised to take me in; and, anyhow, I've woii Gladys." "If you breathe that name again in my hearhig, I'll floor you where you stand!" 1 shouted, stung to fury by the taunt. '-Get out of my sight before I hurt you!" He hesitated a moment, and there was an ugly look in his eyes. Then he turned on his heels and went out. The following day, as I was on my way to the office, I purchased, as is my invariaho custom, a morning paper. As 1 opened it out a sequence of bold headlines on the front page caught my eye. "Collision oil" Port Said," it ran. "Sinking of the Red Star liner Ariadne, in a Fog. Appalling loss of life. Full Details."

* Aviadne! 5 / nearly cried the word aloud. That was the boat which was taking Marion to Mombasa! 1 read on, with shaking hands and a noise of singing in my ears. And what 1 read took the blood from my face and the breath from my body. There were only ten passengers saved from the ill-fated ship, and Marion's name was net among them. "Poor Marion!" I murmured. "Poor little woman!"

I reached the office at last, and placed the paper on flewson's desk in front of him. When he looked up, having absorbed the gist of it, his face wore a startled expression. I believe he half anticipated my subsequent query. 'Do you think, although you have won Gladys, that you can keep her now?" T asked fiercely. He did not answer. But since Gladys became my wife abfiit twelve months later, it will b;» -<••■!] thai all his lies and scheming vrofit«>d him nothing at all.

Portugal's Crown Prince does not seem ! to worry any concerning the troubled! condition ol things at home, for he is I now making a tour of South Africa, j Vet a far from happy state of affairs appears to prevail in his future kingdom. The reported plot against the life of his father, Carlos 1., is an unpleasant reminder of the state of political tension which has existed for some months pa>t. A Liberal Premier, Senhor Franco, is in power, and some time ago he resorted to the somewhat novel expedient for a Liberal politician of dissolving the Chamber of Deputies and ruling the country without the aid of Parliament. His excuse for taking this step was that he found it impossible, do what he might, to carry on the King's government, owing to the factious conduct ot his opponents. Very little is known as to what is going on in Portugal. but Senhor Franco seems to be a man of determination, and he is said to be doing his best to place the flnan-| ; ces or the country on a sound footing, which is the crying need of the moment. | There U a Republican party in Lisbon, j and some weeks ago a rumor was menj tioned by the Times in its Vienna cor- | n--;pon'lence. in regard to an alleged dynastic eri-K of a possibility that the reigning Jlouse of Saxe-Coburg <iotha may be superseded by the second line of the House of Braganza, whose, head, Duke Miguel, resides at the Castle or in Lower Austria. King I Carlos has always had a greut friendship for Great Britain,