THE PRISONER'S SISTER

Wairarapa Times-Age, 10 August 1938, Page 10

THE PRISONER'S SISTER

PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT

BY

PEARL BELLAIRS

(Author of “Velvet and Steel”)

CHAPTER XII. The last painters had gone and the smell of paint and varnish in the Unfurnished rooms was dying away. On Saturday morning Julie was going about the house singing. She was feeling how surprising it was—if one only endured and waited even the worst hours of one’s life would pass. She felt that there was hope in her life again. She meant to make good in this job she had been given. In short—it was a bright, sunny, windy morning and she felt like singing. When-the morning paper was delivered Julie took it up to her sitting room to read it. She read a good deal of it before a paragraph caught her eye. , HEAD OF FAMOUS FIRM ENGAGED. Julie read the column below. "The. engagement was announced in London yesterday between Miss Lorna Treeves, second daughter of Sir Hurst and Lady Treeves, and Mr Ferris Rand. Mr Rand is the head of the world-famous firm which is at present engaged in constructing the Thames bridge. Mr Rand is at the moment in the Sudan, Miss Lorna Treeves, who is a grand-daughter of the ninth Duke of Tonbridge, returned to London yesterday from a six months’ holiday in Florida.” Just that. Julie put down the paper. The sky outside seemed to have darkened. “Miss Lorna Treeves, a granddaughter of the ninth Duke of Tonbridge!” Julie struggled to discover the basis of her feelings. “Julie Moffat, daughter of a country medical practitioner, and sister of Thomas Moffat, at present serving sentence of twelve months’ imprisonment for theft.” It was that —her own situation coming home to her like a slap in the face. In the last few weelcs she had lost her proper view of things. Because Rand had found time to come down and stay for two days, she hadn’t realised the bigness of the world he belonged to. , He had snatched a moment to perform a charitable duty—and she had been young enough and stupid enough to let him make her feel befriended —! Other feelings Julie would not attend to or admit. She would not ask herself why she suddenly hated Rand again, and loathed her own depen- ■ dence on his kindness. She only knew • that she did. “I don’t regard you as a woman, I regard you as a nuisance—thought a responsibility none the less!” She remembered those words of his again now, and they rankled terribly. Her friendlessness shook Julie to the depths of her being, and she could have burst into bitter tears. She remembered the genuine interest and ■ sympathy that Stuart Rand had shown in her, and recollected that he was coming that afternoon—but somehow she didn’t want to see him so much now. Then she began to wonder why she was so upset. She picked up the paper and read the paragraph again, coldly. > She coldly turned it over, and found a photograph of Lorna Treeves. The ’’ print was blurred; she could only make [j out that Miss Treeves had fair hair done in formal Greek curls, and had ~ very’large eyes. Funny that he should be getting ® married at all. One would have thought that he was much to self-cen-tred and wrapped up in his work to bother about it! Julie folded the paper with cool contempt, and put it aside. At half-past three, when Stuart Rand arrived, she was hardly expecting to " see him, thinking that perhaps he wouldn’t bother to come. She almost wished he hadn’t. She i. wanted to be done with benefactors. But after he had been there for half- ’• an-hour she was glad to be with him, , though try as she might she couldn’t J recapture the hopefulness she had lost in the morning. 4 “Oh, "by the way, did you see it in the morning paper? My brother has L got himself engaged,” said Stuart. “Yes, I saw it.”

“They’ve been unofficially engaged for the last two years,” said Stuart. “He sent her off to Florida for a holiday because she interfered with his work, and now she has come back they have announced it.”

To Julie it sounded so exactly like Rand’s way of doing things that it made the engagement seem more credible . . . “Cold blooded monster!” said Julie to herself.

That was all that Stuart said about it, and they talked of other things. Julie felt dull, and exerted herself to try to entertain him, and soon Stuart was telling her about himself. He had had infantile paralysis as a child, which had lamed him. “It was pretty miserable at school as a kid,” he said. “Of course the family couldn’t see why. Ferris was very decent and took my side against the rest of them. He’s always stood by me, and they always give in to him of course. But he made me go through with it, and I was glad that I had in the end. You must learn to shove your way in a crowd —even if you have a gammy leg!” When Stuart had gone Julie went back to her little sitting room over the stables,' and sat with Dolly and Will by the fire. She was more comfortable in this quiet retreat than she was in the the house now that it had been so lavishly decorated. But still that night it seemed to her that she had found an uncertain refuge. What had she to do with the sort of people who would soon be walking and talking and coming and going at Lime Grove?

Hitherto she had been on an equal footing with everyone who came; just as meals were served in the kitchen or in the dining room irrespective of who was eating them. But when the

house was all in order, it would be quite different. Julie would have her “place,” and would have to keep it. She did not mind. But she felt lonely—despite the fact that she and Stuart Rand had just spent three hours in confidential conversation. She thought about Tom—more miserably than she had done for a week or two, and managed to exasperate herself once more into a state of fierce bitterness against Rand. CHAPTER XIII. On Monday the furniture began to arrive, and with it the young interior decorator to superintend its arrangement about the house. The telephone had been connected since the decoration started, and on the Tuesday there was a call from Rand’s London office. Mr Hill, Rand’s private secretary, wanted to know if Lime Grove would be ready to house a dozen people at the following week-end, as Mr Rand wished to bring a party' down. So Rand was back again! Julie consulted the interior decorator, who was utterly furious at being hurried. “Shall I say ‘no,’ then?” suggested Julie. But he seemed more shocked than ever, at that: “Good gracious! Say ‘no’ to Rand? Tell them we’ll do it!” Julie told Hill that the place would □e ready. She told him that they ivould have to see about getting the necessary staff for her at once. Hill said he would enquire about it and ring her again. Julie was left with a feeling very aear to panic. She had managed a tea-shop, but not an hotel! A dozen people! Friends of Rand’s, people from the world of smart society. Probably Lorna Treeves would be i n the party. How on earth could Julie minister to needs she knew so little about? She felt more than ever before how rash Rand had been in giving the job to someone with so little experience as herself. Probably he would regret it — For ten minutes Julie felt hopelessly incompetent and inept. The panic of the interior decorator didn’t reassure her. He was tearing up and down the stairs, shouting at the men who were bringing in the furniture. Every now and again he would mutter to himself: “Absolutely fantastic!” Julie pulled herself together, and decided that she was just as capable of running an hotel as anyone else. Mrs Bolton had given her many hints about the catering. And when Mr Hill rang again she was able to give him details of the staff she would need. The next days were ones of frantic activity, getting in stores and arranging a general schedule of work for everybody. But Julie used her common sense and went about it systematically. She realised that she must make some mistakes,- but she hoped to be able to correct them as the place got into running order, without anything going noticeably wrong. They sent her a head waiter from town, who she realised was going to be invaluable to her. A quietly obliging, intelligent man named Harbin, who had left a ‘job in one of London’s best hotels in order to take this one over. He at once took over the whole responsibility for the dining room, and his arrival added considerably to Julie’s confidence. On the Thursday Julie was helping the interior decorator with the draping of the curtains and hangings in the rooms. He kept saying: “You are so sensible! So superlatively sensible!” And once he said to her: “Good heavens, you make me begin to understand why it is that some men marry!” ■ Julie was hurrying along the passage with a roll of yellow silk in her arms, when she ran full tilt into someone who was coming round the corner from the staircase. It was Rand. "Hello!” said Rand. “You seem undecided whether ..to smother yourself or knock me down!” He picked up several coils of silk and piled them in her arms. “I didn’t expect you just yet,” stammered Julie. “No?” He, smiled at her. He was very tanned. “How are you?” /Julie recovered herself, and her attitude of formality towards him, and managed a suitably even tone of voice: “I think you’ll find everything quite satisfactory. I’ll just take this silk to Mr Merriam. Excuse me, please!” She walked on into the smoking room with a businesslike expression. Rand followed her, and the interior decorator nearly fell off the steps on which he was standing when Rand walked in. “I wish you hadn’t come!” he said. “It isn’t absolutely finished. For instance—this room. The treble touch of gamboge—! It isn’t here yet—Oh yes, There is it! Thanks so much!” He took the yellow silk from Julie! “There! That’s what we need in here!” He pointed out all the most striking points of his work to Rand, and while they walked through the rooms inspecting the place, Julie was able to slip away. She went down to the office, and got out her account books with their careful, but as yet meagre, entries, laying them open for Rand to look at. As she did it her hand was not very steady, and she hated herself because she cquldn’t seem to keep calm and cool under the impact of his personality! When Rand came down into the hall and he and the interior decorator had had their last word, Julie came out of the office. “Please, Mr Rand, will you look at my books?” Rand turned to her, saying in his most deliberate tone: “No thanks, my accountant will do that!” He came to the door of the office. I

“In future there’ll lie an accountant coming down every months .to look them over. Meanwhile —” He took out his notecase and produced two fivers. “Another month!”:'. Since she didn’t take them immediately he put them on the desk. “Thank you,” said Julie. He glanced at her and his face looked more sober than usual. He seemed tired and preoccupied. “How are*the children?” “Very well, thank you.” He nodded. She thought to herself: “Of course, he has other things to think of, now. He’s bored with the Moffat business.” He lighted a cigarette, and then said absently: “By the way, I’m bringing a party of friends down here next week-end.” “We’re making all the arrangements,” said Julie. “Oh yes, of course. I told Hill to let you know.” He glanced at her, and caught her looking at him with much of what she felt in her eyes. He was silent a moment. Then: “Still unforgiven?” he said, quietly. Julie was surprised and disconcerted, not having meant to look at him with any expression at all. She shook her head, and evaded having to answer by asking: "How many am I to expect in the party?” “About a dozen, I suppose. My secretary will get in touch with you.” “Very well.” “Thanks. Good-bye!” He walked out of the office, and out of the house. Julie felt unaccountably miserable, and then resentful. Why couldn’t he leave the subject alone? It was so much better that they should be on purely formal terms. Employee and employer. It was what she wanted. (To be Continued).