THE PRISONER'S SISTER

Wairarapa Times-Age, 11 August 1938, Page 12

THE PRISONER'S SISTER

PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT

BY

PEARL BELLAIRS

(Author of “Velvet and Steel”)

CHAPTER XIV. Before the party arrived came Mr Turrell, in whose hands, it seemed, Rand had placed the whole business of rell told her, was to apply to him for rel told her, was to apply to him for everything. He walked round the place and made no comment on it, except that he seemed in rather a state of irritation with it all. Julie didn’t think she was going to like applying to him and having to answer to him, very much. Before he went, however, he made the cause of his irritation plain. “Dear, oh dear!” said Mr Turrell, looking up at the-house sourly, as he got into his car to drive away. “An hotel! Very nice too, for those who have the time—for those who have the time! But I assure you, my dear young lady, that Mr Rand has not time, no time —no time at all to waste on fancies of this sort!” And away went Mr Turrell, in a fume because his overworked employer insisted on expending his valuable time on a fancy.

A' question for Julie to decide was what sort of costume was proper for an hotel manageress. She supposed that she should wear something plain and black. Looking in the mirror she wished fervently that she looked older and more impressive; how on earth was she to manage all the servants — -let alone the guests? She tried brushing her hair, back from her face, and making a little knob of it on the nape of her neck. The effect was certainly more severe. The uniforms for the staff were being supplied by a London firm, but no one apparently had thought about Julie. So she went to a store and bought herself some yards of medium priced material, and took them to a small dressmaker, and had two. frocks, one for day, and one for evening, made up for her to her own design. It made a great hole in her monthly ten pounds, but. it had to be done and she was pleased with the frocks. They had a nice style, while being strictly simple and formal. \ ,

On the Friday Rand’s secretary rang her and gave her the names of the people who were coming. Lorna Treeves was among them. Julie was relieved to hear that Stuart would be in the party. Rand was bringing Mr Hill, and would require three rooms. The house was therefore going to be full to capacity. Julie was glad to be busy; because there were thoughts that she didn’t want to think. Did all these people, she wondered, know the story of how Rand had rescued her from starvation? Did they know about her brother?

Naturally they would not trouble much about her if they did. But it was horrid to feel that she might be the object of their comments. However, there was no time for thinking about it. Julie went to bed very late on the Friday night, rose very early on the Saturday morning, and put on her new black day frock. It was cut in a tailor-made style with "a little military-looking collar, and it seemed to Julie that it suited her much too well—until she brushed her hair back.

One of the maids came over from the house to get the children off to school for her, so as to leave her free for her other duties, and Julie realised her own importance in the establishment for the first time. To have a maid to help her with the children! Julie hoped and prayer that everything would go properly. The first person to arrive was Stuart Rand, who came before ten o’clock Julie could have fallen on his neck with relief at the sight of him. “Thought I’d get here early and establish myself as a member of the household before all these stiffs arrive,” he said. But he couldn’t see Julie because she was too busy, and he had to sit by himself in front of the purely decorative log-fire in the electrically heated lounge. Towards noon the rest of the guests began to arrive. There was a Guards officer, a Knight, an Earl, a Baronet and a plain mister. There was the Earl’s Countess, the Knight’s Lady and an Honourable Miss Belsher.

Julie found that there was nothing that was not entirely simple about getting them into their rooms. She had been sent a staff that knew its work; and since it was a private party she had nothing to do but to watch them through the glass windows of the office, while appearing to be very busy inside.

Rand arrived five minutes before lunch time, accompanied by his Lorna and a secretary. Something, she could not explain what, prompted Julie to draw back through the inner door of hei- office as they crossed the hall, so that she could not be seen. Her brief glance only showed her a glimpse of Lorna Treeves, tall, with a beautiful figure in a tailored costume, and a rakish looking hat. Julie slipped out to the kitchen tc see that everything was in order there. Everyone was working with smooth haste. Harbin commanded the dining room.

As soon as the guests had gone in to lunch, Julie went up to the bedrooms; here and there a maid was unpacking a trunk; Julie assured herself that everything was all right in each of the rooms. Because she. supposed she must, she tapped on the door of the room they had given to Rand and looked in. Ell was there, putting trousers into presses; and in the. next room a secretary had his typewriter out already, and was sitting at the telephone, apparently talking to someone in Newcastle. There was nothing for Julie to do but go to her office, where one of the maids brought her luncheon on a tray. Afterwards the house filled with the

sound of voices; the guests strolled through the hall, talking and smoking. There was a good deal of discussion of the decorations, which came to Julie in snatches as she sat in her office. How different from what it had been when she first arrived —how changed now from the dark silent old house! She could not have explained why it it was that, troubled and wretched as she had been then, she thought of that that time with an odd sort of longing. Stuart Rand came into the office. Julie had been prepared for a difference in his manner, but there was none. She looked at him with grateful eyes as he sat on the edge of her desk, swinging his heavily-booted lame foot. “It all went perfectly! The head waiter is a find, the chef is a marvel, and you look almost managerial.” “Thank you!” said Julie with a laugh. “I’m trying to!” She hadn’t seen Rand, but she supposed that she would see him sooner or later—or he would send for her. And at half-past three she saw him strolling down the stairs from the lounge, where most of the guests were gathered. She thought that he was coming to the office —and he did. Julie rose from her at the desk as he walked in. He didn’t greet her, but said immediately: “Well, everything seerrjs to be in good order here! I congratulate you!” “Thank you!” “On the whole they seem to have made a good job of the place. I have not been into the financial side of the business, but Turrell tells me that it ought to be a paying proposition.” He was looking Julie up and down as he spoke. His gaze remained fixed on her hair for a moment before he turned to look round the office.

“You’ll have to charge people a good deal for everything if you’re going to make it pay,” Julie said. “Will we?” Rand was looking at the hand-bound visitors' book. “That’s Turrell’s business. I’ve never asked to run an hotel before. I don’t think he’s pleased.” He examined the binding of the book closely, while Julie stood watching him. He closed it, and said in the same businesslike voice, without looking at her. “I like your frock, but why do you do your hair like that?” It wasn’t the best beginning, and it had a tonic effect on Julie. “May I not do my hair as I like?” she said, with a heightening colour. “Not like that,” said Rand, calmly. “I suppose,” said Julie, trying to outface his stare, “that you have some say in the matter.”-' “As proprietor of this hotel, and your employer,” with a smile, “I forbid you' to do your hair like that.” Since he was obviously only trying to annoy her, Julie was not afraid of annoying him. “I don’t believe you can. I believe there’s a law about it,” she said. “I can do my hair as I like.” “Well then, let me go down on my knees, and beg you not to do your hair like that!”

“You do change your position rapidly, don’t you?” said Julie. “But not my opinions; I like your hair —but I don’t like it done like that.” He began pushing the drawers of the desk in and out, and examining the office generally. Julie said: “Do you know, Mr Rand, 1 believe you think that your likes, and dislikes are the measure of everything —” She made a comprehensive., gesture. “Everything in the world.” He pushed a drawer to with a snap. “I wish they were!” he said. She was surprised by the seriousness of his voice and the glance he threw at her.

“For a man of your position I should imagine that they usually are!” she said. And with a touch of malice she added, “Certainly I . can’t afford to annoy you!” She put up her hands and loosened her hair; she turned away for a moment to take the pins out, and then turned to him again as she shook the hair round her face. To her surprise he was looking at her with an expression that was half wrathful, half rueful . . . “I suppose I’m. fair game, really,” he said. “But you’ve got your knife into me, and there nothing you enjoy more than twisting it round!” Something broke in Julie, and suddenly she wanted to cry. She turned away blindly, closed the drawer in the desk that he had left open, and at last found words for what she was struggling to say: “Mr Rand, do you think it helps me to do my best, when we —say things and quarrel like this whenever we meet? Do you think I can do my work?” “Do you think I can do mine?” said Rand, bitterly, surprisingly—and walked out of the office. He didn’t come near her again that day, and Julie was left to wonder as best she could what he had meant. Time after time she had wanted to say something to Rand that would really get him on the raw. And then after dozens of much better efforts, a comparatively mild hit seemed to sting him at last —and into saying something so unexpected. She couldn’t believe that the difficulty he had had with her had really affected him. Why should he pretend? She saw him passing through the hall at dinner time; but he did not look her way. After dinner in the lounge, as she passed through he was standing with his back to the fire talking to the knight. He looked very handsome in evening dress. He didn’t look at her; and Julie, perhaps, was more interested in getting a good look at Lorna Treeves than anything else.

(To be Continued).