BREEME HOUSE 1 By Katherine Newlin Burt I CHAPTER HI. HIGH STAKES The inevitable ennui of the Voyage seized upon Alec Tre mont. the fourth day out. As ho wandered listlessly into the smoking room after lunch, he yawned in open protest against boredom. “Feel like that myself," laughed Ned Burnet, coming in at that moment. “Let’s get up a game.’' “®igJ{ht-ol But I’ve scarcely enough cash with me to tip the stewards. You’ll have to stake sue, Ned, till I get to London. Sent all my ill-gotten gains from Canada straight to my bank, you see." “It’s your turn to win, any how. But I’ve plenty if the luck goes against you. Come on; let's find a couple of fellows that look like goo^Josers." y Soon they were seated at a ta ble, Alec drawing one of the strangers for partner, and Ned the other. I JTreuiont had experienced the j Sense of freedom from worry ; just long enough to be able to forgvt caution. He was enjoying the feeling of being on his own ■financial legs again. i 11“ partner was good, and the earns came Iheir way; they won at the start, which only served to exhilarate Alec the more. Soon Alec’s partner began to take risks that were sheer bravado; and somehow he got away with it. Alee caught the spirit and followed suit. Burnet’s partner, unruffled by their losses, rallied Ned with a question. “We can’t let them get away with it like this, partner. How about raising stakes? I guess they should be willing, if we are." was /vice b partner, tne other stranger, that replied to ^ the challenge. “Go to it.” w po ' -e cried. “We’re 4 .~ers, eh partner?” Alee recklessly agreed—konw ing that, to Burnet it was no mat ter, one way or the other; his pockets were well lined. And as for himself, he was winning; it was his lucky day. Neither Burnet nor Tremont had caught the look of under stand! ig which had been passed between the two strangers, dur ing this conversation. And then, after a round or two, began a change of luck for the winners,—not too suddenly nor eoutiuuously to betray a pre arragned plan. With the stakes at their present level, Alec soon re^l kwi JJut 4m wrhnhrgs ~t*mtld he wiped out, and the balance re versed, in short order, lie set his teeth grimly; in all deceney he couldn’t throw down his hand now. llis eyes took on a haggard look as he realized more and more acutely the possibility that he faced. He cursed himself si lently for his recklessness,—but the sportsman in him demanded that he “stay in”. He hoped, even prayed for a change of luck again, as he realized what his plight would he if he lost to the limit. The proceeds of his Ca nadian sale, and possibly more, would he forfeited. He was sick at heart with the fear of it. His brain was paraliz ed. He played wildly. As his losses mounted, and he caught the excited comments of the on lookers peering over their should ers between deals, he wondered numbly how he would be able to face bis father’s hurt look, the misery on Jane’s face at confes sion of his criminal weakness, his step-mother’s accusing si lence. 'When the bugle sounded the call for dinner, ana the game was wound up, Alec forced him self to assume a careless look. He nodded to Burnet. “You settle for me, old man, will you? Here’s an I O U. See you about it when we get to Lon don.” And he so far succeeded in act ing the part as to make the rest think that what he had lost was a mere nothing to him. It was not till he had got, somehow, to his cabin, and caught sight of his white face in the mirror, that the tragedy came fully home to him. Ho had lost almost the whole of his Canadian land-sale. He was as firmly as ever in the hands of the money-lender, Un terberg. The rope was round ■J his neck. Alec appeared at dinner that eveningg with a face so pale that the watchful eyes of Lady Jane’s affection detected some thing wrong—seriously wrong. At once she felt certain that his air of ultra nonchalance was donned deliberately. What had happened ? l)o what she would she could n’t keep the anxiety out of her voice, as she questioned him when they were alone together. “Anytiikig wrong, Alec!” “Wrong? Why? You seem al ways to take it for granted that something's gone wrong,” he answered irritably. “No—tut you look quite ill, that’s all!” And he knew that he had hurt her. “Sorry, Janey; the fact is, of course, that you’ve hit it. I’ve— well, it’s an unholy mess!” And he told her. “Oh Alee! IIow dreadful! Poor old dad; how terribly he will feel it!” His eyes were burning with anger at himself. “What will yon assed by his chair said to him —“I’m 1 laving a jolly walk! Why loll about when you can be on the move!” Ami inevitably he found him self responding to her vigorous magnetism. Her interest in him was so delightfully Impersonal that it never irked. Her candor was always so spontaneous that, while it often took his breath away for a moment, it left him thrilled with exhilaration as from Ithe sudden buffet of a keen sea hreciM directed straight into his lungs. “I’m so glad I like you, Lord Tremont,” she remarked cooly, as they patrolled the deck on this last day. He was so surprised for a mo ment that almost he dropped to the banality of tu-quoque; but he recovered his breath in time. “So you were all prepared for the opposite. Glad I was able to disappoint your expectations, Miss Wilton,” he bantered. But neither was she to be caught napping, and, as he had become accustomed with this quick-witted young woman, she eluded him. It was vain to spread his net in the sight of this bird. “The real triumph is not in my just being able to like Lord Tremont himself, you know. But to be able to like you as the brother of my wonderful little Jane, and as the son of dear Lord Breeme—that’s the thing.” He flushed and stuttered a lit tle in response—the more so that his glance at her showed how ut terly calm she was about it. “Er—it certainly makes a rather j-jolly kind of—thing of it, doesn’t it?” Was it really possible, his thought enquired, that she didn’t intend the obvious implication of her analysis? “Oh, it’s wonderful,” shye went on with warm feeling. “You can’t possibly imagine what 1 feel about Breeme House. It possessed me—and yet I felt, too, that I possessed it. And all these months that I’ve had Jane with me on the other side,—I couldn’t have gone back to Americawithout having her with me as a kind of pledge for my return to England. Breeme House seems the first real home I’ve ever known, you see.” Her eyes were shining with happiness, and there was no hint of sentimentality in what she had said. “I feel q\iite kcared. Misa ton,” he saJdJ- "T ,. W.1' v,;ij *•— mock awe; it quite a job to live up to all you feel about us. I hope I shall be able to play my part in keeping up the illusion.” “Oh indeed it’s no illusion,” she flashed back at him. “How horribly I must have failed to tell you ! It’s the realest thing 1 ’ve ever known. Breeme House has become a part of me!” She had halted in their walk on deck. They were at one of the entrances to the lounge. “I’ve enjoyed our talk, my lord,” she said with teasing hu mility, casting down her eyes de murely—“except that last little cynicism of yours.” She looked back at him, with laughter in her eyes, and dis appeared within. Tremont strolled slowly round the deck, with a puzzled smile in his eyes and something a little grim about the smile on his lips. He reached the place where Lady Jane was sitting with her unread book, gazing placidly out to sea. and dropped into the chair be side her. “Where’s Claire,” she asked of him languidly. “Went in,” hi replied. “Janev, you’ve picked a wonder in your Miss Croesus,” he re marked after a moment’s silence. “A wonder!” “I’m so glad you like her, Alec, I wanted you to, so much. I should have been quite un happy about it if you hadn’t. And father will be so pleased.” Alec frowned, and looked at his sister quickly. Jane seemed to be echoing Claire’s thoughts What on earth did it all mean? Was it intentional? Was it a | plan? I remont leaned back in ms chair. Well—and why not Why not, as far as they were all con cerned. A perfect plan—made to order! He, certainly, was the last person who had a right to object to it—the impoverish heir to the Earldom of Dreeme. And she, Claire ilton, was delight ful, beautiful, clever, and, above all rich ! And yet. His eyes, gazing seawards, were filled with a vision. . . . After a few moments he came back to the present, with a frown and an irritable movement as if to rid himself of some exasperat ing problem that irked him. “You won’t have to stay long in London, will you Alec!” Jane asked him presently. “Few days, probably. Got to I raise something to pay that old pawn-broking Unterberg—as lit tle as he’ll let me.” “I should pay him as much as possible, Alecj keep him quite for as long as you can do,” she urged, “And back soon: I [ want Claire to have a happy time with us.” “Not a hint to father about this infernal mesa, Jane, remem ber. Give them all my love— and to Aline,” he added casual iy “Poor Aline,—she’ll be awful ly eorry about it. She feels everything as deeply as if she were one of us,” said Jane. “Poor child, I know.—It’s a rotten shame that she should have to slave with those kids; she gets no fun at all!” Oh Alec—how absurd; Aline loves teaching Humphrey and Vi. She’s awfully fond of them, and of all of us. You’re blue about yourself,” she continued, “so you’re in the mood to pity everybody. You know quite well that Aline’s very lucky to have a home at Breeme House. If no one had more to worry about than she does, the world would be very well off,” she as serted. Lady Jane got up from her chair. “Well—I’ll go and see that I’m all packed up ready for Plymouth. Get hack from Lon don as soon as you can.” Alec nodded moodily as his sister moved away, smiling her admonition. CHAPTER Y THE BROAD ACRES OP BREEME “Well, Claire,” said Lord Breeme, “has taking tea with Mrs. Poling spoiled the glamour for you? You’ll have to admit that five o’clocks in England are, after all, very much like five o’clocks in the United States —eh, aren’t they?” Through the shadows of the tree under which they sat, the speaker’s twinkling eyes peered at his guest. She stood in the light of the setting ^P.^ figure Of such that the r£at oT the soft landscape, its silvery lawns, its blue-green trees, its greyish golden house front, even its sky fleeced with rose, seemed dim and faded, like an old master’s background to a new master’s latest work. (TO-BE-CONTINUED) - Gossip About Books and Authors A recent reviewer of Besa Streeter Aldrich’s new novel "Mother Mason” accuses her of making Mother Ma son’s daughters of a type of a quarter of a century ago. Furthermore the same reviewer remarked that "Mother Mason belongs to the Ne braska that bumps over the Lincoln highways every evening to the movies." Mrs. Aldrich exclaims: "It Is to laugh! The Mother Masons in Nebraska ride In Hudson super-sixes and Cadillacs and that eliminates a lot of bumps, you know. And quite pften the Mother Masons get a chance hear Galll-Cruci and Rachmani noff and Southern and Marlowe." THE MAKING OF AN AMERI CAN by Jacob RHs has just been re issued by The MacMillan company. This fascinating biography of the Danish immigrant boy who became one of the closest friends of Theo dore Roosevelt, and a social reformer of world importance, is a book every one will enjoy. "His life story is a thrilling one, one that all Americans would do well to read, for it gives any reader inspiration, insight into what his country really means, and renew ed sense of patriotism.” George Horace Lorlmer, editor of The Saturday Evening Post in writ ing in The Bookman describes hls meeting with one of the intelligentsia. "Some years ago I was visited by a dull prosy member of a dull prosy group of pseudo-intellectuals. After a few minutes of condescending con versation In the jargon of his type, he concluded’ “ 'I have decided that I should like to write for The Saturday Evening Post. 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