Silas Dennington's Money.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10667, 24 June 1912, Page 2

Silas Dennington's Money.

OUR SERIAL.)

BY F. L DACRE, Author of "Hold in Bondage," t; A Phantom of the Past," "Sir John's Heiress," "The Shadow of Shame," "A Daughter of Mystery," etc.

CHAPTER VTII. —Continucd. It was now Hearing tho end of April . and the weather was delightful. London is a glorious place in the dazzling sunshine of spring, and to the last day of his life Jack would remember his first- Sunday in Nether Street. 'J he woman who had gratefully undertaken to keep his rooms in order and prepare his preakfast each morning, was a motherly old woman. Her hours were from seven until ten o'clock in tho morning, and there after Jack had to do for himself. Her name was Garland, and she was-the wife of a consumptive >vood engraver who had fallen upon bad times. It was Theodore Grant, at the curiosity shop, .who had recommended her to Jack, and the old man would stand on his door stop for hours together looking across the street. Mr Castlemaine's doings interested him immensely. Jack ate his breakfast that first Sunday morning, a newspaper prop- 1 pod up in front of him and the church bells ringing in his ears. He read, ; almost without comprehending, his j brain in a riot. He felt like a man on the border land of a new world. This is not unusual when one is young and gifted with plenty of imagination. • While Mrs 'was clearing away lie went to the window and lit his pipe. Nether Street was deserted ! except for the sparrows. They were busily pecking away below. He looked across the way iat the curiosity shop, and saw that Grant was looking actoss at the publishing house, and waving his hand. Jack responded cheerfully. He considered Theodore Grant a most interesting .figure. "I'll leave the tea things to your hand, as usual, sir," Mrs Garland said. "If you would like me to look in and see if you want anything, I will do it with pleasure." "Oh, no, thank you; I shall get most of my meals out." ' "The best restaurants don't open Sundays, and them Italian places, are dear and dirty. I've heard that they buy all the rubbish in the meat' market, and only pay threepence halfpenny a pound for it." "All right—all right!" laughed Jack. "I'll he careful to nvoid the foreigners.'' He sat turning things over in Ills mind after Mrs Garland had gone. The following day he and Grantley and Teddy Brown were going to decide what the next move should be. Brown was the man with: the practical ideas, and he had 'been putting them into concrete form ready for the decisive day. Jack recharged his pipe for the third time, and while in the act of lighting it heard the opening and closing of the door outside. He looked out of the window, and saw Mr Grant in church-going clothes, and with him a very graceful girl. Surely this was not ,his daughter—the young lady who had once spoken to him in the shop ? Ho had not observed her attractiveness then, but Graiitley had. Mr Grant looked up at Jack and nodded. The girl looked up, too, her soft brown eyes shining recognition. The colour waved in her faco, and a smile parted her lips; then Mr Grantarid, his daughter turned in the direction of the Strand. "Why, she's a picture!" thought Jack. "A beautiful picture—a living, moving, breathing picture! And I actually.talked to her once, and never noticed her at all. Who would think of finding .anything. like this in a dusty odds-and-ends shop in a.Lonclon side street?" He went out himself soon aftcrwaVds, and strolled as far as the Mansion House. The man who sees London on working days only has no idea of the grandeur of the grand old buildings. In the rush and turmoil of business there is neither time nor opportunity to appreciate •>. single beauty spot. He returned by way of Hoi born and Oxford Street; then along Sii'iftaßVury Avenue and past St. Martin's Church, opposite Trafalgar Square. Tho fountains were playing, and in. the bright sunshine the i water was sparkling like pHoeious stones. He panned to listen, to the booming of the Church organ, and tiie ' congregation began to flutter from the doorways. There was much subdued talking, low laughter, and then the butterfly crowds separated, and melted slowly away. ■ At that moment Jack felt inexpressibly lonely. He hungered for human companionship. The Browns had.begged of him to spend his Sundays with them, but he was utterly tired of their small and shabby rooms. He thought of Grantley and Madge, and And he. knew that Grantley was miserable, thinking of him. "A dashed unpleasant pickle w? are in," he reflected. "And now I am beginning to feel peckish. ' He stopped at a window of a restaurant, and the smell of cooking sickened him. A greasy-looking waiter stood just inside the doorway, watching him with black expectant eyes, broad hands, and dirty finger nails. Jack shuddered and went on. Now if Finch's had 'been open, a couple of sandwiches and a glass, of good ale would have been delightful! He went home without lunching; indeed, his hunger was gone. There was bottled ale in his own larder, and a crust of bread and cheese. That was, at loast, clean and wholesome. Then Jack spread himself on the

: couch —a luxurious piece of furniture, , springy, soft, and yielding to every line of the figure; and covering Ins eyes with his handkerchief to shield them from tho light, he was soon in the land of dreams. > v The' time passed—one hour —two hours, and he found himself listening to delicious music, "Softer than petals from blown roses on the grass." Was lie still dreaming, or was this the echo of his dreams. He opened his eyes; the white curtains fluttering in the breeze; bars of sunlight lay upon the floor. The musi&- was real enough, and rising lie went to the open window. 'Be frowned and puckered his brows. There were no sweet sounds now. A dog barked shrilly in the street below, while he chased a bird in frantic and foolish haste. "I must have been dreaming about the sea fairies," Jack thought, "and imagined the rest of it." He yawned, and pushed back his tousled hair. It was four o'clock. He heard the hour booming from the big clock over the law courts. He started. There was the sound of tapping somewhere downstairs, as though some one was using a tack hammer. He went out of the ronom, and leaned over the balustrade. Tap-tap-tap. "Someone at the door," he thought. "Brown, the unholy ruffian! Did I not tell him that I sternly set my face against Sunday business? But anything is better than this solitude, and where the deuce the dust somes'from is a mystery." The balustrade was thick with it. He ran downstairs, unbarred the door, and pulled it open. "Hello, you I beg your pardon, Mr Grant; I thought it was my managing man. Come :n —come in." . - I merely came over to ask you if you would care to have tea with us —only my daughter and myself. It must be very lonely and comfortless here.. You won't be offended?" "Offended, be hanged! It is very good of you, Mr Grant; but please don't cast aspersions on my comfort. Come up to my rooms and have a lookround." He thought. of TheodoreGrant's pretty daughter, "f accept with pleasure, and I shan't forget your kindness in a hurry." "We are the only people living in j Nether Street, Mr Castlemaine, besides two or three caretakers. Weill, ' you are smart,> and it seems a waste lof good things." Ho had followed .Jack upstairs and into the sitting-: i room. , "I like good things, Mr Grant, and I liave'nt bought all these things reA»Eitly. A lot of 'em were sent by my brother from the old home." "Your brother? I thought " "My brother in AnieMca," Jack put in hastily. "Here's my bedroom and | bathroom, and at the back- there's quite a good-sized kitchen. By Jove, Mrs Garland forgot to put the milk away, and its curdling. If you withdraw your invitation^now 1 am lost! If there's one thing I abominate its condensed milk in tea. Mrs Garland has laid in a stock of the villainous compound." _ ' Mr Grant laughed in his quiet, purring way. ' "Five o'clock," he said. "I'll be there to the minute. I'm not particularly fond of too much of my own company. I've been napping since lunch, and having visions, and hearing imaginary music. Even your knocking startled me.' T began to think of Poe's 'Raven,' and I thought I was going dotty." . ! "The music was real enough, Mr Castlemaine," the old man said, still smiling. ! "My daughter amuses hefself playing the harp, and our windows were open. I'll go now. Five o'clock, remember." _ ; Jack spruced'himself up a bit before. going over the way. He woujkl not have bothered about it. only for the girl. It would have, been a poor sort of compliment to'appear in soiled linen, and necktie awry. He was cij'rions, too, about her. Her world must move in a very tiny circle, and he wondered how she could be satisfied.if she had any mind at all. s While the clocks were chiming the hour of five he knocked on the side door of the curiosity ■ shop, and Mr, Grant admitted him. '"Come upstairs, Mr Oastlemaine. The table's set, and my daughter.;, is making the tea. We are a very dull little family, just bur two selves, and a woman comes in to do the rough work." Vv Jack followed him up to the front room on the second floor, and , immediately went over to the window, attracted hy his own sign. "Looks all right, doesnH.il;" T he sun made the gilded letters glow. (Tn> be Continued).