“WILD GRAPES”

Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20256, 27 July 1937, Page 10

“WILD GRAPES”

SERIAL STORY.

SYNOPSIS. Sir John Hammond, the famous nervespeclallst, la disturbed by the thoughtless extravagance of his wife, Marie. The twins, Paula and Robert, sense there Is something wrong, and an alarming heart attack which Sir John has In their presence, Increases their anxiety. Paul is engaged to Lloyd Manners, a young barrister. Robert has an “ understanding ” with Olive Maitland, but for some years yet must devote himself to his singing. He Is the possessor of a rich baritone voice, Inherited from his father’s sister, Claudia, who In her day bad been a famous singer. Gordon Tate, Marie’s artist brother. Is going quickly on the downward path through drink. He persuades Marie to send him two Tamous Corots, ostensibly to be_ cleaned, but really for him to make copies from, for practice. She implores him to send them back before the fifteenth, Tor on that day there is a big coming-ol'-age party Tor the twins. Marie receives a leiter from her bank, which £0 upsets her that she decides to retire for a few days to iher pet nursing Gordon Tate turns up at the party, unasked, in time to see Mr Morris, a friend or Sir John’s, looking at the raked Corots, and to hoar him say he will get an expert to look at them to-morrowl CHAPTER XVll.—Continued. After supper there was a general expression of desire that Robert and Paula should entertain with music, and while the concert was in progress, Mr Morris asked whether he might see the Corots. “My sister Maria has a passion for Corots, and she sent a message that if ever you want to part with yours, you have only to let her know,” and he laughed. “I’m sticking to them at present,” said Sir John lightly, “but oome along into the library.” They wandered off, and Mr Morris lifted, down the Beach Nymph, so that he might get a better light on the picture. “I say, you haven’t been letting anyone mess about with these Corots, have you?” he asked. “No, my wife has a mania for getting pictures cleaned, but she would never dare to touch the Corots.” “No, quite 1” said Mr Morris. -He hung up the picture and took down the other. “If you please, sir,” said a maid, who was setting straight disarranged cushions, "her ladyship sent those pictures to be cleaned just before she went away.” “And where did she send them, Benson?" To the usual firm, sir, Mr G. French. They only came back yesterday.” “Thank you," said Sir John calmly. But inwardly he was distracted to think that Hie precious Corots should have been touched. Anil when the maid had gone, Mr Morris added to his annoyance. “My d.ear Sir John, who on earth is this fellow French? He can’t know his job, or he’s been economising in rotten varnish.” "What further he was prepared to say did not come off, for Norris entered, and in his even official voice announced a belated guest. “Mr Gordon Tate, Sir John.” Sir John looked at this unexpected guest in amazement, but recovered himself miraculously. “I am so very sorry to be late, Sir John,” said Gordon Tate coolly, “but I’ve had a most bonoxious breakdown. I must apologise to my sister ” He was in superb evening clothes, and. he held out his hand with an engaging confidence. “I’m sorry that my wife cannot be here to-night,” answered Sir John, “but, of course, you are welcome. My wife’s artist brother, Morris I” “’How do you do 1” said Morris, ab-sent-mindedly. lie was more interested in the Corots than the newcomer. “I say, Sir John, you'd best get your knife straight into this man French, whoever he is.” “He’s not ruined them?” asked Sir John anxiously. “Gordon, you’re an artist ” “May I look?” asked 'Gordon, “not that 1 consider myself an expert on renovating ” “There was no question of renovating!” said Sir John sharply. “The pictures were in perfect condition.” “In’ you like,” said Mr Morris, “I’ll tako oIT these pictures to-morrow morning, and Jet Falkner of Bond Street have a look at them. My sister swears by him.” “Yes, I believe he is quite a good man.” said Gordon Tate. And then lie turned and saw his nephew Robert standing motionless in the doorway. CHAPTER XVIII The Unexpected Guest. As Robert looked at this welldressed man, so different from the drunken wastrel lie had once discovered down the garden, ami who now claimed to be his uncle, he stood hack and looked for guidance towards his father. Sir John was ready as any good host, and lie said lightly: "Your Uncle Gordon, Robert." “How do you do,” said Robert severely. “What a pity that my mol her is not here.” “It is—most disappointing!" he answered. “Well, it is agreeable of you to have turned up for our birthday,” said Robert icily. “Have you bad supper?” And Sir John, as he listened to his son carrying off an awkward situation, realised that this man must be in secret communication with his wife. Marie had not mentioned Gordon for years, and lie had hoped that the man had disappeared abroad. Perhaps his wife's passion for money was not entirely on account of her own extravagances. But Robert decided that he would leave his uncle to liis father, and rushed off to warn Paula. “Don’t you bother with him," lie urged. “I'm not going lo have you messing round with him.” And Mr Matthew Morris, though apparently examining curios, was intensely aware that something unforeseen was happening. He had known for long that his friend. Sir John, kept some sort of a skeleton in his cupboard. Were these Ihe hones, confident man. with the. clear signs of drink trouble about his eyes? Blit Sir John invited his brother-in-law into the. supper room, and no guest seeing them together could guess that anything was wrong. “Marie will he disappointed to miss most unfortunate that she is so subject. to these nervous attacks. But. I didn’t know you were in England.” “I come and go.” lie said readily. “And 1 do hope, Sir John, that you won’t take it amiss that 1* like to look Marie up. Wo used to be fond of * one another, and are still.” • “You are, of course, always wcl- I * come Lo see Marie at any time,” saidi

By THEODORA WILSON-WILSON.

A Charming Story with Delightful Appeal.

Sir John. “Only, I have a rooted objection to —shall we call it. diplomatic secrecy?”

Gordon laughed out. “I agree—l have told Marie that, often. But those, nerves of hers play up and make her act—well, not quite normally.” The suggestion was made with a consummate naturalness. But when Sir John had placed his brother-in-law under charge of Norris, he hurried off to And his sister. “Claudia,” he said, drawing her aside from the dancing throng, “here’s a ghastly business. That wastrel Gordon has turned up. He’s In the supper room. I wish you’d go and entertain him. I don't want him to go tipsy before our eyes.” “I’ll see to that,” said Miss Hammond, with her usual resolution. "Go off, John, and do your duty by the young people.” Miss Hammond was equal to most emergencies, and she barged down upon Gordon Tate, and overwhelmed him with bright cordial welcome, and managed to get a word aside to Norris to go easy with the drinks. The supper passed without Incident, and presently Miss Hammond suggested that they should join the dancers, or at any rate look on. Gordon Tate agreed readily enough, and complimented Miss Hammond on the success of the party, yet when a little while afterwards she looked for the unwelcome guest, he was nowhere to «be found. “•He’s gone—vanished!” said Robert to Paula. “Why on earth did he come?” “I wonder whether Mum did Invite him. or whether he came on his own,” said Paula. “It's sickening,” said Robert, “and for the life of me, I don’t know whether we ought to tell father about the garden house business.” “Let father have one more day of rest,” said Paula. “AH this has been a strain for him, and Mum playing the fool Into the bargain.” “Well, I wish you’d play hostess to Stephen Smith,” said Robert. “'He’s looking a bit out of it —over amongst the ferns.” “Don’t you dance, Mr Smith?” she asked, coming up to him. “Oh, yes,” he said pleasantly. “Only I-'m rather stupid.” “We’ve been neglecting you shockingly,”. she answered lightly. “Why not grab me?” “If I may have the honour!” “I’ve kept one or two for the strays,” and she smiled, taking all the sting out of the words. “Then, may I be a stray?” “With pleasure. Robert has told Stephen danced unusually well, and when he took her back to a seat, she acknowledged her pleasure. . “I’ve enjoyed that dance enormously,” she said. “Shall I introduce you to some other girl.” “Oh—no thanks,” he said, suddenly shy. “I'm really quite all right. Don’t bother about me 1” “Paula, here you are!” exclaimed Lloyd, chasing up. “This next is ours.” “This Is Mr Stephen Smith—at Clare with Robert,” she explained by way of introduction.

Then Paula took Lloyd’s arm, and sumbitted to the next dance. Lloyd danced rather like a Teddy Bear. Stephen watched absorbedly. There was no other girl In the room with whom he had the slightest wish to dance. So he slacked and avoided his duty shockingly. At the party there was a girl who could not pretend that she was enjoying herself.

It was not that Olive Maitland was short of attention, for 6he was a general favourite in the circle, and was overwhelmed with requests from would-be partners. It was true that Robert Insisted on taking several dances, but his manner suggested the police host rather than the anxious lover. On the fourth occasion, Olive found the position unendurable, and put an end to it. “Robert,” she said, “I don’t want you to have to do your duty so anxiously by me. Rut if you’ll be an angel, please take me to Miss Hammond. I must be popping off.” “Rut, Olive I” he exclaimed crestfallen. “I must get back early to father, lie insists on sitting up for me, and I must cut short his weariness. It has all been gorgeous! All the very best—for the future birthdays,” and she laughed merrily. Yet when at last she was alone In the back seat of the car, she gripped her hands together painfully. What she had expected, she could not. have explained; but not this. Rut. when she reached home, she told her father that she had enjoyed herself enormously, that Robert and Paula had behaved perfectly, and that Miss Ilammond was a dear. CHAPTER XIX. No Time To Waste. It was clear to Gordon Tate that if Mr Morris really intended to send the Corot pictures to the expert in Bond street on the morrow, there was no lime io lose. He had calculated upon deceiving the Hammond family until he could make certain plans, but this interference had put him out of his reckoning. So having enjoyed an excellent supper, and having been careful to coniine his drinking to coffee, he look his chance and. went off home. The position was awkward, but he solaced himself by the practical certainty, that whatever happened, Sir •bdin was never the man to put his wife’s brother into Court. Still, it would be well to make

things secure. Hut ns ln> placed his latchkey In the outer street door, he felt him arm seized, and Ihe street lamp showed him the lace of a woman staring at him wilh wild intense eyes. Here was a worse interruption than had happened yet, and lie threw off the. hand roughly and uttered a deep "Gordon!” she pleaded. “Something—give me something—there's the chiUl. yours and mine ” Again he swore, hut more softly, ns he glanced round. "Let. me come in—let me tell you, I'm your wife ’’ lie hesitated. It was perhaps unwise to have an altercation with a woman in the open street. lie opened the door, and pulled the woman roughly inside. "Well, and keep your voice low. It’s your own fault, you left me, deserted me, took the child away—and now—you expeel ” "You know why I- left you, Gordon, (To Be Continued).