“WILD GRAPES”

Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20264, 5 August 1937, Page 4

“WILD GRAPES”

SERIAL STORV.

By THEODORA WILSON-WILSON.

A Charming Story with Delightful Appeal. _ !

j CHAPTER XXVIII. — (Continued.) i 'He could not sleep, he dared not I I I drink enough to deaden himself, and perhaps It was merciful that at last, as i :he lounged idly in the Park, he was : , roused to action by the sight and sound , j of a child. ; j “Have one of my sweets, poor man. said the little girl, as she chased; up to j him. “They are werry nicel” ‘ But before he could answer, an : authoritative Nannie had snatched the child away. Gordon looked after her and calculated her age. She must be about the i same age as Dolly—that is. if Dolly 1 still lived. 1 But of course she lived, Madeline had mentioned her, in that surprise l interview', when he had tossed her a * couple of pounds, and she had cursed him. J . 1 He buried his face in his hands to ■ shut out the Park gaieties. The won- 1 derful days returned, when he and ; Madeline had loved —he proud of her, t and she proud of him. But that was I all over. Madeline had cursed him. Yet his own little girl was alive in the 1 world somewhere. Was she, one day, to curse her father? Gordon rose, feeling weak and shat- i tered. He must hurry off and do the 1 one practical tiling. He must get drunk. } And once again he saw the gleam in < i Sir John’s friendly eyes. It shot a i mysterious strength into the man. 1 I He drew himself up, stretched, and t II walked slowly through the Park. Then 1 he beckoned to a taxi-man. '< Some time later, two men, who were busily engaged in packing pictures for < export, in a very dusty warehouse, I looked up as Gordon Tate came in upon t i them. ; “Good afternoon, Mr Tate!’’ ex- i claimed the foreman. “Have you got those pictures, off t i yet?” i “Not all, sir. We’ve the Corots —• | we’ve just parcelled them up. They’ll ’ j go through easy,” and he laughed. ' i “Hand them over. I’ll take them,” < j said Gordon. • I “They’re here.” said the man, sur- i prised. f i -Gordon took the well packed parcel. J | and looked round. I j “Those two larger ones—” ; “Beady for shipping, sir.” , “Well, let them wait my orders,” he 1 replied. i He was gone, taking the parcel with him. ( “He’s got the wind up, that’s what l lie has!” said the younger man, with a « sneer. “Well, I don’t blame him,” said the t older man. “I’d like to get a job in i a cleaner line of business.” i “That’s right.” replied the other, t “But we’re only employees—we do as we’re told,” and he lighted up. ; Gordon passed along the street until I he reached the Post Office. Then he I addressed his parcel in printed characters to Robert Hammond Esquire, * and handed it over the counter. And even as lie left the office, it ’ seemed that he repented of what he had done. He must get a drink, and drink all thought away. j “Let me help you!” The words came so clearly, that he turned sharply. But there was no one, only a tradesman’s 1 cyclist, stopping at the kerb to light a cigarette. It was as though some “Hound of ' Heaven” were upon his track. He would escape. I He returned to the Hotel, collected his goods and left for Euston. J From Euston, one could go almost anywhere to the North, the West, and the sea. A box had been left by the carrier and Mrs Taylor and Madeline Tate managed to get it up the stairs. “It’s from your new friends,” said Mrs Taylor excitedly. “And now, I’ll f leave you to it," and she retired; tact- \ fully. “Oh, Mummy!" cried the child, as Madeline threw up the lid, and took away the tissue paper. And as she unpacked she discovered everything that a woman could need 1 —all in good order and style. The child; was entranced, and talked of a fairy godmother, who had come at last. And certainly the child had not been forgotten, for there were dainty shoes and socks and olothes new and the possibilities of clothes to be made by an expert mother. ; Paula had certainly done well, and enjoyed herself enormously in packing this trunk of luxuries and necessaries. Madeline’s instant thought was to piok out something for Mrs Taylor, as some return for her continual kindness, and then a new hope rose within her. The clothes would make all the difference. Well-dressed, she might hope for a better post, and face a possible employer with a new confidence. Who knew what might come for her and Dolly? CHAPTER XXIX. Intp The Hurley-Burley. Robert and Paula could pretend anything but pure relief as they returned home from having seen their mother off by the boat to the Continent. She had been “difficult” to sheer Intolerance, and they admitted to one another that they had had a time of it. Lady Hammond was wise for the main chance, and she had with a sleuthlike instinct picked out from The Grange everything she could reasonably or unreasonably consider as her own private property. Some she sold, some she warehoused, and the rest she took with her. Even the new Daimler car she claimed as having been definitely given to her by Sir John. The only point which could amuse the twins was the fact that if she was “pinching” she was pinching from herself, as they had utterly agreed that ‘ the balartce saved from the crash was to be their mother’s. Lady Hammond was very vague as j to her plans, and they did not enquire too closely. They hoped her aim was not Monte Carlo, but they took good care not to say so. Lady Hammond had been effusive and affectionate at parting, and had assured them that she would write. It was clear that some nervous drive was i impelling her to leave England, and | they had agreed that it was best to let her go. I The Grange was now no longer its j beautiful self, for the glory had departed, and Agents’ Boards flaunted ! tills Desirable Residence and Five Acre Estate in the eyes of passers-by. ‘Robert, free from Cambridge, had devoted himself in helping in the necessary sorting and clearing, and Nor ris and a roupie of reliable maids worked hard at the distracting job. Olive could not keep away, as she explained, and was ready to do anvI thing that wa* wanted. But whether

she helped or hindered, it would be invidious to decide. On the Saturday, Robert went off to see tlie great man, Mr Maurice Gard- [ ner, for advice as to his singing chances, and Paula went to Town with him, so that she might find her luok with Madame Jasmine. And as they drove home the brother and sister compared their first real start. “Fixed up?” asked Paula YARN TWO JAS “He didn't actually kick me out,” replied Robert, “but I’m not feeling the top ot the market. Cheap goods—thrown here*” In his own mind Robert had .certainly expected to create some kine of impression. Perhaps his Impression was deeper than he knew, or than Mr Maurloe Gardner had elected to acknowledge. But the principal point was that a two years' course of hard labour had been mapped out for LJm, and he had agreed to gO Hi. “And now you?” said Robert at last. “Oh, well, Miss Smith has been marvellous. She has as good as fixed me up at a spot named -Gowthwaite, the Back O’ Beyond in Westmorland. The Vicaress, Mrs Desmond, wants me to come along on appro to help her to push arts and crafts into the heads and the hands of Gowthwaite boys and girls, and anyone else to inclined. So I shall have to rub up the whole thing as fast as I can.” “I suppose you’re aiming to be the Gowthwaite boss.” “No; I shall have to kow-tow to the Vicaress! But, Bob, there’s something more. Miss Smith has spoken for me and shown my work to some Paris buyer, and I’m to ’create’ knit-wear garments for him.” “Paula!” he remonstrated. “Genius doesn’t limit itself to the vocal chords,” and she laughed. “So when I’m not wearing out my nerve on the dales children who won’t or don’t do what I tell them, I can bury myself in creating for the West End and Visiting Americans ! It’s all too absolutely comic, Isn’t It.” and she gripped his arm. Clearly the thought of serious work was a tonic, and the brother and sister had never felt quite so care-free since their great blow had fallen. Paula’s post brought a frantio letter of thanks from Madeline; Robert’s brought a parcel which he opened with some curiosity. “My hat!” he shouted, and Paula rushed to him. ; “The ‘Corots come to roost I” “They are!” said Paula, “without their frames.” “The frames came back long ago,” and Robert laughed. “My dear old thing, one doesn’t expect this sort of thing to happen on earth 1” “I’m glad he did it,” said Paula solemnly. “So am I.” And Robert frowned. “I wonder what Mr Morris will say l They’ll have to be put in for probate.” “And mother’s income will gain,” added Paula. “Oh, I wish Daddy knew—” “I wish I knew what he said —you know whom I mean—to bring on father’s last heart-attack.” “I suppose there is such a thing as repentance,” said Paula doubtfully. “The Corots—witnesses !” answered 1 brother. “It’s all rather hideous,” said ; Paula. CHAPTER XXX. Stephen Smith. It was Sunday, and Olive had driven Miss Hammond over to The Grange, for a last meal in the dismantled place. Everything was in orderly disorder, and carpets were rolled up and pictures down, but Norris was his usual self, In official attendance. Tlie arrival of the Corots was a grim excitement, which Robert had mentioned to Norris. And the man, faithful to the family, 6aid very little. “There’s one thing, Mr Robert, he was scared out of his life when he called me to Sir John.” “And there’s another, Norris, that Miss Paula and I must act towards our uncle, as Sir John would have acted. That’s all that matters.” “Only Sir John was a real -Christian, sir,” said Norris. Then realizing what he had said, he apologised. “It’s all right!" and Robert smiled. “Some of us are miles off any Christian standard.” “That’s right, sir, and there are times when I feel I- could shoot Mr Tate out of hand.” ‘•Only you could never face my father afterwards,” said Robert. But lifter tea, Robert and Olive wandered off for a last look at the gardens, which were in perfect order, as a business proposition, awaiting a buyer. “It’s all very sad,” said Olive sympathetically. “No; I think the sadness was that we ever came here. The Grange was a nightmare to father. But my mother | nagged and nagged by sheer invalidism ; and my father committed what the 1 author nf ‘John Halifax, Gentlemen’: called the ‘sin of selC-sacriflce.’ 110 l ought, to have stood up to her, and ; yet—l don’t know!” “When our bargain comes of,” said Olive, “you’ll have to stand up lo me, no sins of soif-sacriflce." “On either side.” said Robert. “But do look at that blatant peach house—we discovered it had not, even been paid for. Unripe peaches hanging there —emblems of folly! But never mind all that. Would you rare to go on 111-’ river?” “Charmed.” she said eagerly. So Robert got out n boat, and took oTf his coat, to row. and Olive faced with the ropes. And the worries and .anxieties faded in tlie pure Joy of be- ' ing together. And Paula was glad to have what she called a good old talk with sensible, broad mined Aunt Claudia, to whom she could say almost anvfhing. “Darling, you are sure you aren’t cross or hurt because Robert, and ! don’t want to sponge on tlie older generation ?” Tlie question came out so hlunfl> and unexpectedly, that Miss Hammond flushed like a young girl. I “Uve knocked down that giant, mv dear.’’ she said, “hut it was a hard battle. But I do want you both to flatter me into thinking that I belong lo you both —that you can’t quite do without me.” For answer. Paula jumped up and gave her an emphatic kiss. This was also surprising for Paula was not usually demonstrative. “Well. I confess that l shall he glad when all this muddle Is over,” she said, “and } am settled in Gowthwaite, playing the new games.” (Continued In next column.)

“You haven’t told me where you are staying,” said her aunt. “Because I don’t know. Miss Smith said something about an old; Nannie who might take me in.” And then the bell rang, and Paula frowned. “I do think that people might leave us in peace on Sunday. If it’s any one to see the house —” And Norris entered. “Mr Stephen Smith, Miss Paula, would like a word with you.” (To Be Continued).