A MAN'S MAN. BY IAN HAY, AUTHOR OF 'THE RIGHT STUFF.' CHAPTER SIXTEEN.-IN WHICH CHARITY SUFFERETH LONG, AND JOAN MISSES HER CUE. HUGHIE spent the next few months chiefly in wondering. He wondered what Mr Haliburton's game might be. What was he doing behind Lance Gaymer? That the latter might consider himself justified in poking his nose into his only sister's affairs was understandable enough—but why drag in Haliburton? Was that picturesque ruffian a genuine friend of Lance's, enlisted in a brotherly endeavour to readjust Jimmy Marrable's exceedingly unsymmetrical disposition of his property? or was he merely a member of that far-reaching and conspicuously able fraternity (known in sporting circles as "The Nuts"), to whom all mankind is fair game, and whose one article of faith is a trite proverb on the subject of a fool and his money, pursuing his ordinary avocation of "making a bit"? In other words, was Lance Gaymer pulling Haliburton, or Haliburton pushing Lance Gaymer? was Hughie also wondered about a good many other things, notably (a) Joan. (b) More Joan; coupled with dim speculations as to how it was all going to end. (c) More Joan still; together with a growing desire to go off again to the ends of the earth and lose himself. But for the present life followed an uneventful course. Since Lance's display of firework's at Hughie's luncheonparty Hughie's friends had studiously avoided the mention of the word money in their late host's presence; and Master Lance himself, evidently realising that, however excellent his intentions or pure his motives, he had made an unmitigated ass of himself, avoided Hughie's society entirely. Of Joan Hughie saw little until the beginning of October, when he arrived at Manors to shoot pheasants. He was greeted, almost with tears of affection, by John Alexander Goble, who had been retained by Jack Leroy as butler when Hughie relinquished his services; and found the house packed with young men and maidens, the billiardroom strewn with many-hued garments, and the atmosphere charged with the electricity of some great enterprise in the making. "Theatricals ! explained Mrs Leroy resignedly, as she handed him his tea. "Tableaux, rather. At least, it is a sort of variety entertainment," she concluded desperately, "in the Parish Hall. In aid of some charity or other, but that doesn't matter." "Joey's latest, I suppose?" "Yes; the child is wild about it. What, sweet one?" (This to the infant Hildegard, in an attitude of supplication at her side.) "Cake? certainly not! You are going out to tea at the Rectory in half an hour. Do you remember what happened the last time you had two teas?" Stodger reflected, and remembered; but pled in extenuation "But I did it all at the Rectory, mummy." "She was sick," explained her sister, turning politely to Hughie. for the next few days, Hughie lived and breathed in a world composed of rickety scenery, refractory pulleys, and hot size, inhabited by people who were always talking, usually cross, and most intermittent in their feeding-times. One afternoon Joan took him down to the Hall, ostensibly as a companion, in reality to shift some large flats of scenery, too wide for feminine arms to span. Captain Leroy had already offered himself in that capacity, but his services had been brutally declined, on the ground that the scenery was not concave. "The programmes are being printed to-day. We are going "Twice!" corroborated Stod- to have the tableaux in the ger, not without pride. "Yes; in a decent bason provided by the parish," continued Duckles hazily. She had recently begun to attend church, and her reading during the sermon had opened to her 8 new and fertile field for quotation. "Tell me more about the tableaux, Jack," said Hughie hastily, as Mrs Leroy accelerated her ritualistic progeny's departure upstairs. "They're spendin' lashings of money on them. Won't make a farthing profit, I don't suppose; but the show should be all right. They're getting a 'pro.' down to stage-manage 'em.' 99 "My word, they are going it! Hallo, Joey!" Miss Gaymer's entrance brought theatrical conversation up to fever heat; and for the rest of the meal, and indeed first half," Joan rattled on, as they walked through the plantations. "Well-known pictures, you know. Some of them are perfectly lovely. am in three," she added, rather naïvely. I Hughie asked for details. "Well, the first one is to be The Mirror of Venus-a lot of girls looking into a pool." "Are you in that?" "Not much! That is for all the riff-raff who have crowded in without being invited-the Mellishes, and the Crumfords, and the Joblings. (You know the lot!) There's another tableau for their men: such horrors, my dear! But that disposes of them for Part One: they don't have to appear again until the waxworks. Then there's a perfectly sweet one-The Gambler's Wife.' "Who is she to be?" "Sylvia Tarrant. She sits under a tree in an old garden something rather compelling in looking sad," gabbled Joan his dark eyes and silky ways, without pausing, "while her but, being anything but a sushusband gambles with some ceptible young person, rather other men on the lawn behind. resented her own weakness. You'll cry! I come after that Still, the fact remained. She -Two Strings to her Bow. A had seen a good deal of Mr girl walking arm-in-arm with Haliburton in London-how, two men. She looks quite she could hardly explain, pleased with herself: the men though possibly Mr Haliburton have both got camelious hump." could have done so,—and had "Who are they?" listened, not altogether unmoved, to tales of a patrimony renounced for Art's sake, of an ancestral home barred by a hot-headed but lovable "old pater"; and to various reflections, half - humorous, pathetic, on the subject of what might have been if this world were only a juster place. Joan, who did not know that "It's not quite settled yet. I told them they could fight it out among themselves. I expect it will be Binks and Cherub, though. But they must decide soon, because time is getting on, and Mr Haliburton says"Who?" "Mr Haliburton." half "Haliburton?" said Hughie, Mr Haliburton's ancestral home stopping short. 66 Yes. Didn't you know? He is stage-managing us. He came down this morning." "Is he staying in the house?" was Hughie's next question. "No: we couldn't get him in. He's putting up at the Bull, in the village," said Joan. "I wish we could have found room for him," she added, with intention. She knew that most men neither loved Mr Haliburton nor approved of their girl friends becoming intimate with him; and this alone was quite sufficient to predispose her in that misjudged hero's favour. In her heart of hearts Miss Gaymer was just a little éprise with Mr Haliburton, and, as becomes one who is above such things, just a little ashamed of the fact. She had found had been situated over a tobacconist's shop somewhere between the back of Oxford Street and Soho Square, and that his "old pater" had but lately retired from the post of head waiter at a theatrical restaurant in Maiden Lane, in order to devote his undivided attention to the more perfect colouring of an already carnelian proboscis, felt distinctly sorry for her romantic friend. When a young girl begins to feel sorry for a man, the position is full of possibilities; and when heavy-handed and purblind authority steps in and forbids the banns, so to speak, the possibilities become probabilities, and, in extreme cases, certainties. Joan glanced obliquely at Hughie. That impassive young man was advancing with measured strides, frowning fer ociously. She continued, not altogether displeased "The next tableau is Flora Macdonald's Farewell very Scotch. A man in a kilt stands in the centre She babbled on, but Hughie's attention wandered. Haliburton again! He did not like the idea. Consequently it was not altogether surprising if, when Joan paused to inquire whether he regarded Queen Elizabeth or a suffragette as the most suitable vehicle for one of Mrs Jarley's most cherished "wheezes," Hughie should have replied children like Binks and Cherub I can understand, but you, Hughie-you ought to be above that sort of thing. What's the matter with the man, that you all abuse him so? Tell me!" Hughie's reply to this tirade was lame and unconvincing. The modern maiden is so amazingly worldly-wise on various matters on the subject of which she can have had no other informant than her own intuitions, that she is apt to scout the suggestion that there are certain phases of life of which happily she as yet knows nothing; and any attempt to hint the same to her is scornfully greeted as a piece of masculine superiority. Consequently Joey thought she knew all about Mr Haliburton; wherein she - very was manifestly wrong, but not altogether to be blamed; for when your knowledge of human nature, so far as it goes, is well-nigh perfect, it is difficult for you to believe that it does not go all the way. "Joan, how did that chap come here? Was he engaged by you, or did he offer himself?" "He offered himself. kindly!" said Joan stiffly. "I suppose he is being paid?" or "Yes, of course- —a guinea two. It's his profession," said Joan impatiently. "Do you object?" in The occasion called for considerable tact, and poor heavyhanded Hughie sighed anticipation. Joan heard him. "What is the trouble?" she asked, more amused than angry. "Out with it, old Conscientiousness?" "Joey," said Hughie, "I don't like the idea of your taking up with that chap." On the whole, it could not have been put worse. "It seems to me," said Miss Gaymer scornfully, "that it's not women who are spiteful, but men. I wonder why every male I know is so down on poor Mr Haliburton. Silly It was a most unsatisfactory conversation. All Hughie did was to reiterate his opinion of Mr Haliburton without being able (or willing) to furnish any fresh facts in support of it; and the only apparent result was to prejudice Joan rather more violently in Haliburton's favour than before, and to make Hughie feel like a backbiter and a busybody. It was a relief when Joan abruptly changed the conversation, and said "Hughie, have you seen anything of Lance lately?” No, Hughie had not. "Why?" "I'm bothered about him," said Joan, descending from her high horse and slipping into what may be called her confidential mood. "He used to write to me pretty regularly, even after he married that freak, and we were always fond of one another, even though we quarrelled sometimes. But he seems to have dropped out of things altogether lately. Do you know what he is doing?" "Can't say, I'm sure," said Hughie. "Could you find out for me ?" "Of course I will," I will," said Hughie, quite forgetting the present awkwardness of his relations with Lance in the light of the joyous fact that Lance's sister had just asked him to do her a service. "I'll go and look him up. He may be ill, or short of cash. But can't you get news of him from -from she said. "I don't know what I should do without you." Hughie glowed foolishly. Her words did not mean anything, of course; still, they warmed him for the time being. He never thought of making capital out of Joan's impulsive outbursts of affection. He regarded them as a sort of consolation prize-nothing more. He had never attempted to make love to her since his first rebuff. The memory of that undignified squabble still made him tingle, and in any case it would never have occurred to him to renew the attack. Man-like, he had taken for granted the rather large proposition that a woman invariably means what she says. To pester Joan with further attentions, especially in his exceptional position, savoured to him of meanness. an For all that, the girl and he seemed of late to have adjusted their relations with one other. Joan never played with him now, encouraging him one moment and flouting him the next, as in the case of most of her faithful band. Her attitude was that of a good comrade. She was content to sit silent in his company, which is a sound test of friendship; she brought to him her little troubles, and occasionally ministered to his; and in every way she showed him that she liked and trusted him. A vainer or cleverer man would have taken heart of grace at these signs. Hughie did not. He was Joan's guardian, and as such entitled to her confidence; also her very good |