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Wairarapa Times-Age, 20 December 1939, Page 12

CHAPTER VII. Continued. “I agree with you," the solicitor stopped him with an impatient little gesture. “Don’t let’s talk about it. my boy. In that, as in other things. I look on Paula as unfortunate, a creature more sinned against than sinning. The whole fact of the matter may be summed up in one sentence. Take away Paula Accrington’s money, and she’d become a useful member of society.” “You really think that?” Peters had raised himself in his low chair, turning towards the other. “I do; but, very unfortunately, that’s just the one thing that can’t happen to her, unless sne gave it away herself, which she won’t do.” “From what Ive heard,” said Peters hotly, “she’s doing all she can to throw it away recklessly. Isn’t that just like life—so terribly cruel and inhuman? Here is that girl, owning millions, pouring them out like water on the sheerest trivialities. While a fellow like myself—look how I’ve had to slave to keep body and soul together—" “But—my dear fellow, you’ve nothing to worry about now. have you? With that invention of yours, and Sir Oscar financing you ” “Yes, I know. But, supposing I hadn’t used my brain, hadn't bothered about inventing anything ?” “Exactly my argument,” intervened the other. "You used your brain, just because necessity drove you to it. Now Paula Accrington, never knowing what necessity means ” “A lot she’d do with her brains!” laughed Peters. “I doubt if she has any. Not enough, anyhow, to tell her how to handle an aeroplane properly. Wretched little tiger-cat ” “Come, come, my boy. Don’t be so hard on the poor girl. I tell you, it’s all mainly due to a faulty heredity. She came from the wrong branch of the Accringtons.” “There were other branches?" Peters asked, not sounding particularly interested, although really he was. “One only,” replied Mr Wallingford. "But that, very unfortunately died out. I say—unfortunately—because that was the family’s main stem, and solid. It was before my time, of course, but I am at home with the details, through my father. The last living member of that branch was a Clive Accrington (all the eldest sons had been Clives on that side), and he died childless, most regretfully. He—was never married." John Peters said nothing, but just sat, staring out at the white and blue mass of Sunnyside in the distance, and thinking deeply. He had so far said nothing at all to old Mr Wallingford about the story which the ex-solicitor’s clerk, Tucker, had told him all these weeks past out in Otterbridge, New Brunswick. Peters had indeed, until arriving here, given the matter no more thought. Having made up his mind to have no more to do with the business, he had dismissed it from his life, as irrelevant. However, since being here and meeting Paula Accrington, he had begun almosfto argue with himself as to whether that indifference was right. Not that he had any interest in the money. Becoming friendly with old Mr Wallingford on the voyage home, he had since been introduced in London to Sir Oscar, and at once a business basis had been found on which Peters was now completely without trouble as to the immediate future, even with the almost certain promise of wealth before him. Therefore, the Accrington millions were unnecessary to him.

It was not of them indeed that he was thinking at this moment as Qf Paula Accrington who owned, and was deliberately wasting such a fine estate. Really—if he chose to press his claim —it was his estate, being flung away by an irresponsible girl. Even that might not have been his affair at this moment, had it not been for the girl, and especially what old Mr Wallingford had just said about her: “Take away Paula Accrington’s money, and she’d become a useful member of society.” Peters wondered. He could not deny that, in the few minutes they had faced each other on the Beaconsfield aerodrome, he had become acutely interested in her. He had been just a little startled, in fact, by the unusual emotions she had aroused in him. Not —love. Oh. no. If anything, it had been the very reverse. Everything he disliked in her was intensified by her behaviour. He would like to take her down a peg. he felt. He would like her to knew that she was*living only on his charity. And then again, in the next minute, he thought differently. It would be beneath his contempt to achieve so cheap a triumph. He set about diverting his mind from the girl. "I had a letter last night from O'Corrigan, by the way." he said, turning to the slightly sleepy old solicitor. “He's on his way from Ireland tonight. He’s coming here —that is. he says, if he hasn't been shot by someone before he leaves Dublin. Candidly, I can't imagine a living soul who’d want to shoot old Dan." I “A good fellow." Mr Wallingford, waking up from his doze, and nodding. “Yes. No man could ask for better friends than Dait and de Brissac. 1 wonder how Pierre’s getting on in France. 1 haven’t heard from him since I wrote and told him of the agreement with Sir Oscar. I guess he'll blow in any minute now. without troubling to write." .Just then a man-servant appeared ( and murmured something to the oldi solicitor, who rose quickly to his feet, j “Good gracious . . Wants to see me'.’” he stared, then looked towards