The Storyteller.

Taranaki Daily News, 12 February 1916, Page 9

The Storyteller.

pretty creature so close to him. The delicate fragrance of flowers and of femininity which permeated this charming nest struck him afresh as he stood in the near presence of this very attractive woman.

"This is the matter, Madge," he said, and dropped the letter into her lap. Then he trode to the window and looked out with only partially seeing eye?, whilst the lady read Ted Trevlyn's closely-written sheet, and at its close broße into a silvery little peal.

"Oh, Dick! How extremely funny!" she said.

"I don't know that I call it that, Madge. Some cad is trying to get Patricia away from me; and for all I know he may succeed. Patricia has a very high spirit of her own "

"Does that mean a very bad temper, Dick dear?" asked the little lady, with a charming soft raillery in her glance and tones. And at that question Dick suddenly laughed himself, and the laugh did him good. "For," pursued the little lady, "I'm not quite sure, dear boy, whether you are quite cut ou ! t to be tho husband of a lady with a temper! Two of them in one house, and rather pronounced at that, might be rather too much of a good thing!" And she lay back against her cushions smiling at liim provocatively. He faced round, came forward slowly, and Stood looking down at her with affection in his eyes.

"Madge. I love her," he said quite simply,,"l love her. And somebody is trying to get her away from me. Now and again plots like that succeed. You can see what has happened, of course?" "Oh, perfectly. And I quite agree with your corespondent that our friend Postldthwaite may be at the bottom of it. He has a shifty eye, and he is clever and resourceful." She leaned bark a little deeply into her cushions, and her eye 9 began to sparkle, "Nevertheless, Dick, I think that I can prove myself a match for Mr. Postlethwaite's cunning."

"Then you are going to help me, Madge ?" "Of course lam going- help you, Boy. When did I ever do anything else but help you when you tumbled into troubles and had the sense to come to me?"

"Yes, yes, I know. You have always been a brick to me, Madge. But you don't know Patricia—and how "

"Oh, my dear boy, you make me tired! Go and hunt the wily fox, and leave this little itrumpery tangle to the wily woman! What day are you due at your passionate Patricia's home?" "On Tuesday?—-Christmas Eve." "And this is Friday. Good, there is ample time. Run along, Sonny! And dont' look so lugubrious! Trust everything to me. I'll see you through.

So Dick Damer wen't off with something between a laugh and a sigh, but nevertheless with the conviction in his heart that somehow things would be put right between himself and the offended lady, whom he had hoped to make his wife in a few weeks' time. • * Chrisltmas Eve! Such a busy day in Patricia's hope! Young brothers and sisters ran to and fro with arms full of holly. Ted stood in impossible attitudes on the top of house steps, putting up mistletoe boughs and great 'trophies of scarlet-berried holly. There was a secret room,'carefully darkened, where stood a huge tree laden with its marvellous dangling fruit; and a table where parcels in colored papers and tied with ribbons jostled one another ,for a place. And at dusk to-day 'the glorious fun and excitement would take place; the tree would be lighted up and unveiled, and the great distribution of gifts would follow, to which the whole household would crowd, children, servants, guests, and parents. It was the tradition of Trevlyn jHall —the night of all the year. J Patricia, love," spoke the smiling | mother, coming forth from that room, ■ which she alone was suffered to enter, all parcels being brought to her to be placed there, "I have no!t seen your parcel for Dick. And he is to be here soon after lunch to-day. Have you not got it ready?" "No, mother, not yet." "But, my dear "

Patricia, whose gaiety had been rather forced during the past few days, but who had kepit going as eagerly and ardently as any of tiie younsters, now looked at her mother with a strange—almost tragic—expression in her great dark eyes.

"Mother, don't talk to me about Dick. I wish he were not coming. I do not wish to sec him. No, don't ask me anything. Ask him. Don't keep me, please. I have ten thousand things to do still."

And the beautiful girl, the pride of her mother's heart, broke away from her and disappeared before that astonished parent had collected her thoughts sufficiently evm to frame a question. The mother went slowly out into the hall, which the merry crew of younger children, led by Ted, were decora'ting. Making a sign to her son that she wished speech with him, she succeeded in getting him into the smoking-room alone, and, carefully shutting the door, she turned an anxious face towards him.

"Ted. do you know what is the matter wi'th Patricia?" "You mean with regard to Dick, mother?"

"Yes—has she told you anything? I had no idea that things were not right between them. But just now she took my breath away. She almost as good as said that she did not wish to marry him. She certainly said she wished he were not coming to-day. Ted, dear, what can it mean? Do you know?" "I knew that Pat's brisltles were up. Honestly, Mother, there is some small cause for this, unless it can be explained. That's what I'm hoping and expecting as soon is Dick appears himself. But he's not answered a letter I sent him, which makes 11s wonder a bit; for .«>s a very friendly letter. And, of course, if he should not turn up todav- "

"But he will, my dear. He has promised, and has never put off. And I sent him a card the other day telling him which train to take. If he had changed his plans he would have written."

"Why, yes, that's a sure thing. He'll ■turn up all right, _ then. I'm glad of that; for, though we've not known Dick long, we've all liked him, and approved Pat's choice. But it isn't quite like knowing a fellow inside and out, as you do when it's been a friendship of years. All the same I'm not going to condemn him till he's had a chance to explain—" "Explain whait, Ted, dear. I don't understand!" "Well, if Pat has not told you, perhaps I won't say too much. But she had a nasty anonymous letter that upset [her—a pity she ever read the beastly

thing—and 'there was a photograph with it. But I won't say more now. Things 3o happen that seem inexplicable, and are easily explained. We'll just wait till Dick conies. He knows that his ap-ple-cart's been a big upset; but I expect he's going to right it all the same for that. When does he arrive?"

1 told him to be at the junction on the 2.30 train. He'll be at the house about three o'clock."

'■Then I'll go and meet him and run him up in my little ear; and he must go and have it out with Pat forthwith. I mean us to have a jolly Christmas—and we shan't do that till this little bit of silly mystery ig cleared up." "You ilhink it can be cleared un, dear Ted ?"

"Of course I do. I know Pat's a hit difficult. She isn't one of your clinging, yielding sort. But she's jiist, and she's' a good head on her shoulders. We're not going to have a tragedy spoiling our jolly festive season—not if I know .it!" "Dear me, I hope not. Buit Patricia "

Patricia was resolullely gay through the luncheon; but there was a rather forced note in her gaiety. She started every time the door opened. For as a rule the second post came in about noon; hut at this season was often an hour or more late. The youngsters were all clamouring for their Christmas post, which was one of the excitements of the day; but it wa s not until half-past two, some while after Ted had gone off in hi s little car to fetch the expected guest that the heavy bursting bag was brought in; and then there Was such a scramble and riot, that it was an appreciable time before the whole contents of the bag could be sorted out.

Patricia had quite a handful for her share, letters and smal parcels, and big .envelopes with cards. But she. did not begin to them. She hastily turned them over, looking at the writing and the postmark. And then clutching alt them all together she flung on a fur-lin-ed coat and let herself out by a side door into the garden, and ran quickly down a sheltered path to where stood an arbour now flooded with afternoon sunshine.

There was a table in this place, and Patricia flung down her letters there, paying heed only to one, addressed in an unknown hand, but bearing a postmark which had of late become familiar to her. The letter was rather bulky. She tore it open. There was a letter on thick paper of two sheets in rather large writing; and there also dropped out a number of photographs, mounted upon thin cardboard with a gilt embosed edge,' and the usual Christmas greetings stamped in black lettering. Patricia recognised one of these photos at once. It was ith'e replica of the one received the'previous week, and again a knife seemed to pierce her heart—her lover (that was) with his arms round a beautiful woman!

She caught up the letter and began to read:—

"My dear Patricia, "You must v let me call you Hhat because so soon you will be "a cousin of mine l.y marriage. And I have heard such a lot about you from Dick that

I almost feel 'as though I knew you already. I know I ought to have written to you before, to give you a welcome as it were, into our family; for Dick, having 110 near relations, has always regarded me in the light of a sister, imt you know what a busy season of the year this is—and I stm making preparations for going abroad directly aft?r Christmas, and Dick rushed his engagement so quickly that he gave us no time to turn round.

"But my husband's uncle has had him here with us at Wendover; and so I have heard lots about you from Dick, and I am tremendously pleased that he ha? found somebody" to make him happy at last; for really we 'thought the dear boy would live and die a bachelor! And that would be a. pity; for he is well off, and has a nice old house in ithe Midlands tlint only wants a mistress to make it altogether ing. I'm so sorry we shall not be here for 'the wedding. But wo always go abroad directly after Christmas; and I shall send you my present from Algiers, where I am sure to be ahle to pick up something rather out of the common —and therefore suited to you, according to Dick! "So now I am only sending you a few little rubbishy Chrisltmas cards which I have had done. We have been acting a play here for the benefit of some local charity, and my husband has taken a set of snap 3 of us in characteristic poses. He rather fancies himself as a photographer, and does it rather well. I thought you might like them, because Dick figures in 50 many; and he is quite the handsomest man of the cast, and I am the prettiest woman; and we both act rather well! So we pulled off the play with great eclat —as Dick will tell you. The only stick was a Mr; Postlethwaite, who was supposed to be a star, but turned out very disappointing as an actor. I believe he is a good enough 1 critic. But I don't like him, because he had a down on Dick for some reason, and was often quite'rude to him. He has spiteful little eyes, set too near each •other. Don't you ever take a fancy to a man with eves like that! But this advice is superfluous, because you have had 'ihe sense to take a fancy to Dick and the woman who marries him is going to have the time of her life as a wife!

'So let me wish you all happiness in that capacity, my dear Patricia; and I shall think of you on the wedding day, and look forward to the pleasan't meeting in Dick's house, when lie will present his wife to us. You must ask us directly we get home, for we shall be in the greatest hurry to make acquaintance with our new cousin—Boy Dick's handsome wife. "So, with all the compliments of the season, and every good wish for a very happy life in the days to come, "Believe me, "Your affectionalie cousin—that is to be—"Madge Sinclair." The let'ler fell from Patricia's fingers. The sunshine which had been flooding the garden house was blotted out by a dark shadow. Patricia, too deeply absorbed to have heard approaching steps, suddenly looked up. Dick was standing before her, light in his eyes, a smile on his lips. "Well, Patricia?" She sprang to her feet; her color was coming and going. She pushed aside the table, so thalt it fell with all its contents to the ground. But Patricia heeded nothing. For she was in Dick's strong arms, and his kisses were raining down upon her hair, her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. "Oh, Dick, oh, Dick! How could I doubt you?" How, indeed, you faithless little faintheart " Brit with hands upon his shoulders, and happy eyes aflame with love, she held herself away. "Ah, but, Dick, a man should never be hard upon a woman's doubts. Do you not know how men make women suffer so often—and yet expect tliem always to trust —always to forgive—always to overlook? Are they as ready to forgive and overlook thcir.sclves if a woman shakes their faith?"

Then the man took her two hands, md carried thc-m reverently to his lips. "Patricia," he said, "you are more than right. Men from the beginning of things have expected from women a standard of fidelity which they seldom impose on themselves. Bu't, my darling, believe me that you are enshrined in my heart in its holiest of holies. There is no room for another image there. My life has only held one true and deep love—my love for you. And may God do so to me and more also, if I give you cause to lament the day in which vou gave your dear self into my keeping!"

Then she lifted her happy face to his, and said, "Dick, I am not afraid. I hvve you." The lighit was fading before they left that secluded place; and eager voices fron» the hou°e began to shout for them to return. The magic hour was drawing near, and everybody must be within doors for it.

Mrs. Trevlyn came hastening along the terrace to meet them as they approached; and as soon as she saw their faces her own broke into happy smiles. "Oh, my dear children, I am so glad to see vou! Dick, you look handsomer than ever. Yon are very welcome to our home,' dear boy, even though you are going to rob us of one of our treasures. Come in, come in. We shall just have time for a cosy cup of tea —and then the youngsters will give us 110 peace."

"What was your Christm>..j post, Pat, what was your post?" cried half a dozen eager young voices, as the young things crowded round Pat and Dick. "My nicest Christinas post was a letter and some photogranln from Dick's cousin. Mrs. Sinclair—and diredtly I had finished reading that —there was Dick himself!"

"Huh!" cried the little ones, banging on to him, "he's a jolly big letter for the Christmas bag!" Pint, when an hour later the great distribution of gifts took place in the room illuminated by innumerable fairy candles, there was a great hullaballoo over the discovery that there was no gift for Dick from Pat. "But where is it, where is it?" the children cried. "Mother, you must have lost it—put it somewhere else—done something with it. . . ." Pat's face was glowing rosy red; she made as if she would speak; but Dick forestalled her.

"You little donkeys," he cried in his mjerry voice, "what on earth are you making this fuss about? Don't you know that Pali has given me the very biggest gift of all—the biggest gift she could possibly make—for it is tho gift of herself!"

THE DEMON OF DOUBT.

"Dear old Dick, "Whatever have you been and gone *nd done? Not that I'm going to believe a word against you, nor even '(he sight of my own eyes till I have it from your own lips—or at least your version of the affair. But my charming sister has her bristles up pretty bad. You know Patricia ? At least you ought to dq, seeing: ihat you are supposed to be eoing to aarry her early in the New ."ear! Bnt I must break it to you g«atly that she told me this morning it was all up with you, and that she should break it off. And I suppose she means to 'tell you this herself when you turn up for Christmas! At least "she said she was not going to demean herself by writing to you again. So like Pat in a huff, ain't coming in!" "But really she's got a bit of cause to feel perplexed, if not annoyed; and I'll telVyou every single thing I know. Although it's a week off Christmas, or nearly, those blessed cards keep coming in, and this morning Pat had one or two, and I jolly well saw that she was fearfully put out by one of 'the bally things. She kept looking at it, and her cheeks went red, and her eyes seemed full of fire, and slio did not touch her fosd afWr that, and very sdon got up and went away. And about an hour afterwards, when T was in the den, smoking my pipe, in she burst and thrust some papers into my hand. '"Look here, Ted!' she cried, and her eyes flashed like a tiger's. "Look at that—and read that letter. Oh, the shame of it—the shame!' "Well, there was a photo lying right before my eye*, and I'll tell you what it was; a snapshot of you. Dick (no mistake about that), holding in your arm* an uncommonly pretty woman; and if you hadn't just been kissing—or were just about !to kiss—well, my name's not Ted Trevlyn! "And with the photo there was a letter, which I took up, and began to read; but almost at once I looked at the end, and that made me pause. " 'Pat,' I said, 'this beastly thing's anonymous.' "'I know it is,' she said, panting in her rage. "Well, what business had you to Tead jt ? Stuff like that ought always to be flung behind the fire unread.' "1 didn't know it was anonymous when I began to read,' she answered, 'and when I had begun I simply couldn't leave off. I've a right, to know these things, Ted, .about the man I'm supposed to*'lie marrying'in a month!' 'Supposed 'to be,' quoth I, 'that's a good 'un for a girl whose wedding dress is on .order, and 'the presents all pouring

"SJie wag panting in that way of hers that makes her so jolly to look at; you | know how it is when she gets in a "bate! ' She's always as pretty as paint; but ' when she's got her dander up she's magnificent. • . '"lf thai ,pj)oto hai not been faked,' she said, 'and, «f course, that is quite impossible, I shall not marry that man—n« if there were a dozen wedding dresses on order, or a million presents coming in! . "And then she insisted on my reading tne beastly letter, which is a jolly clever sort of composition. Dick, and the work of an educated fellow, who knows how to rub the venom in! And I'll tell you what.l think about the authorship. I believe 'that clever chap, Postlethwaite, is the perpetrator. He has been gone on Fat for a good bit now; but she never looked twice at him. And then you appeared out of nowhere, and simply carried her off her feet—and no wonder, say I, who was on your side from the first. But Postlethwaite was fearfully. sicjc abou't it! He's a clever, ver- j eatile chap, and isn't used to being sneezed at, I don't know whether he photographs; but he does most things; and that letter certainly smacked of his style, though I haven't said so to Pat, because IH-e nothing to go upon, and'it's ' .mean to say things about a fellow that yon can't prove in any way. • "The letter implied that you were having a rare good time at Wendover, and were head over ears in love with an extremely pretty woman, a, guest in the house, as enclosed snapshot would prove. A snapshot like, that could be obtained almost every day—not the least .'difficulty about it! So there you are, .Pick; and here is Pat in a real royal She knows you have no sisters; and .she naturally wants to know by 'what rl»lit you and this lady are enjoying yourselves so mightily together! . "I don't think Pat is going 'to say a word about this- to the parents. So .vou will be expected here on Christmas Eve all right. Then you and Pat will have to fisht it out together! I'm not going to believe that you played fast and loose with her—not till I hear ft from voiir own lips. Circumstantial evidence" it not good enough for me, wi'th my trained legal mind. I want incontrovertible proof. So just come along as before arranged, and have it out with my lady. "Yours, Ted Trevlyn." The recipient of this letter was a rather particularly good looking man of perhaps thirty summers. It was handed to him at the breakfast table in a big 'eijuntry house, where a lot of hunting lricn were breakfasting in their pink, a'ftd outside fine horses were being ' Mought up by stablemen for the early »tart; '- •Dick Damer was not in pink; but he " were well-cut riding • clothes, and was etidentlv going out with the hunting -■njen. But on receipt of this letter, '"Which he read twice through, with tight'•ening lips and a queer gleam in his "d'eep-seft eyes, he rose from his seat and walked out of the room, and up the •shallow stairs two steps at a time. 'At the head of the staircase long eor•rldore tan this way and that, and fol;i lowinjVone of these to its extreme end, ilti ripped upon the panels of a door. vJFrom within came the sound of a dw.r, . sweet voice. ' >J"Wlio is there?" • '"lt is I—Dick. I want to speak to ;y on father particularly, Madge, before rjige ont. Can I come in?" "Oh, yes, if it's only you, Dickie, in. I'm quite respectable, though I did not care ta be down for the hunt lot. Why, my dear boy, your manly brow seems encircled by a thundercloud. What is the matter ?? By this time Dick was inside a dainty Httle boudior, where a particularly dsunty'little lady, in a cloudy garment of silk and lace, and a charming little ftkcey arrangement upon her abundant hair, not yet dressed by her maid, was having her breakfast at a Bmali table drawn tip' beside the fire. .. Jfc* tall came and stood with his Jbackto the fire, and looked down at the