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Show SHEEP'S CLOTHING By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE I Author of "THE LONE WOLF," "THE BRASS BOWL." Etc CHAPTER IV. Continued. 5 , Rut before she could re-collect her wits and slip quietly away Craven abruptly ab-ruptly lifted his head and looked directly di-rectly at his daughter; and now she knew him positively. Though his jaw-dropped, jaw-dropped, Ills mouth gaped, and his eyes Htared prominently from a countenance that In a twinkling darkened portentously portent-ously above the blank pallor of his shirt bosom, In every lineament he was Thaddeus Craven of the sempiternally youthful face, showed never a line to declare he wasn't thirty-one but a round decade older. For a moment whose tension lent it the length of ninny, father and daughter daugh-ter remained transfixed and staring. Then his emotion communicated itself to the woman in his arms. Startled and wondering, she unveiled her eyes, caught a shadowed glimpse of the third figure, disengaged, and drew away. And Craven suffered this without a sign to Indicate that he had not forgotten her, maintaining his poise and stare with a fixity that, penetrating Lydia's confusion, confu-sion, stirred her curiosity. Taking one step toward him, she paused again, lifted one hand in a gesture ges-ture at once apologetic and appealing, and said fnlteringly, "Daddy " With visible effort Craven pulled himself together and made an attempt . to speak ; but only a husky whisper rattled In his throat. Then his glance veered uncertainly to Mrs. Merrilees. Abruptly this last, overcoming her astonishment, precipitated the situation. situa-tion. The blush that had shadowed her exquisite face ebbed again, leaving It Incomparably fair. She threw back her shoulders and took full advantage of her inches. "Really, Miss Carteret " she began ; and then her voice of crystal clearness broke In a cool and tinkling laugh. "Oh, do forgive me, Mrs. Merrilees! I never dreamed I expected to find my father alone " "Father!" With that iteration of superb insolence, Mrs. Merrilees became be-came once more completely mistress of herself; and If herUone cried scorn upon a presumptuous girl, her look demanded de-manded explanation of the man. But Craven had needed no more time to make good his recovery. It was his familiar self who stepped into this breach, amiable, unruffled, perhaps a shade too devil-may-care ; but to balance bal-ance that there was a not unbecoming ring of deference In his voice. "I'm afraid," he said, "my surprise knocked me silly for a moment. Lydia, I'd no idea you were on board ; but you seem already to know Mrs. Merrilees. Betty, permit me to present my daughter." "Your daughter, Tad?" There was unpropitious raillery in the woman's tone. Craven replied only by a bow. "Do you realize this is my first intimation inti-mation that you were asking me to become be-come a stepmother?" "I've much to tell you, Betty," Craven Cra-ven answered with grave simplicity; then, turning to his daughter, "Lydia, Mrs. Merrilees has just done me the honor to promise to become my wife, and the truth is " "To come out !" Mrs. Merrilees supplied sup-plied incisively. He laughed a little awkwardly. "Exactly "Ex-actly ! I mean to say, it was all quite unpremeditated. It isn't fifteen minutes min-utes since we found we ah loved each other; since when I have been rather too preoccupied to advise Mrs. Merrilees of all my affairs. In another hour, of course, she would have known. As it is if the fact of my prior marriage mar-riage " "Tad !" Mrs. Merrilees interjected with a spirit that commanded his deference. def-erence. "We're neither of us fools. Don't overdo things. You're talking stupidly quite unlike yourself. I don't care to hear more until you've found your bearings; and I want time to find mine, into the bargain. That's fair, Isn't it?" "Nothing more so," he affirmed cheerfully. cheer-fully. "Then I'll leave you to your family reunion !" Fugitively Craven's eyes conveyed what was at once a demand and an oppeal. But before Lydia could respond re-spond Mrs. Merrilees anticipated, with a quick movement crossing to drop her hands lightly upon the girl's shoulders. "My dear Miss Craven!" she said with an odd little catch in her voice. "I'm not sure yet I ought to call you Lydia ; but I'm awfully fond of your father, and -and if I can get over what 'doesn't seem an unfair suspicion that he's kept me too long in the dark about you, I shall probably marry him." "I can't wish him greater good for tune," said Lydia quietly. "You are a dear! And so beautiful beauti-ful I'm jealous. Do you think. Tad, It is wise to have two blondes iu one family? Don't answer, please. It's a riddle I must solve to my own satisfaction satis-faction befoit. I listen to you again. HutI'm scions think it over." With a transient tightening of her grasp on Lydia's shoulders, a pressure that conveyed a bint of friendliness, the woman turned away. "N'o !" she Insisted when Craven promptly ranged himself at her side. "Let me go for tonight, Tad. I'd prefer pre-fer to be alone to think things out. Tomorrow, perhaps " Her smile flashed uncertainly toward Lydia as she disappeared round the shoulder of the deckhouse. Craven delayed, however, barely long enough for a word, "Wait here I sha'n't be long." Lydia said nothing, but watched him go with eyes confused with pain, she who had found herself suddenly relegated rele-gated from the status of a well-beloved child to that of a stumbling block in the path of her father's ambition, who could no longer doubt that he had planned to keep her existence secret until his marriage to this Mrs. Merrilees Merri-lees of the fabulous fortune should be a consummated fact. She stood desolate amid a debris of illusions, who had never known a mother, moth-er, and now had lost a father. Her eyes filled. He hadn't even kissed her after five years' separation ! Besting arms upon the taffrail, she turned a forlorn face to the night-clad sea, her mood fraught with vast disconsolation. A footfall sourfded behind her, and she wheeled sharply about to join issue with her father. But it was Peter Traft who, briskly rounding the deckhouse, deck-house, pulled up short at sight of that tense young person, Lydia, with her shoulders back, her chin up, and defiance defi-ance a-glimmer in her eyes. ' "I beg your pardon " He peered eagerly to make certain ; for the moon was just then thinly veiled in cloud. "It's Miss Carteret, Isn't It?" "Yes, Mr. Traft," said the girl quietly, qui-etly, relaxing. "Good evening." He seemed puzzled by her manner, started to say something, reconsidered sharply, then ventured with engaging deference, "It's good to see you up and about again." "It feels pretty good, thank you," she said, with a smile that gave him courage. "Hope I didn't startle you, galumphing galumph-ing into your solitude without warning. Fact is, I was looking for old Tad Craven. Cra-ven. We're needing a fourth. I don't suppose you know Craven, though?" "Oh, yes, I've known Mr. Craven a long time." "Really? He's a wonder, isn't he?" Traft exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Everybody's friend not an enemy in the world. I don't believe there's a better-liked man in New York our New York, that is." "Your New York? You see, I've always al-ways lived in England, and have lots to learn about home." "Sheer snobbery on my part," Peter admitted cheerfully. "I meant the very small part of New York that we infest, whom my friend Mr. Martin likes to call the 'idle rich.' If he only knew !" "But are you?" "I'm afraid I'm idle enough ; but as for riches, I'm poverty's poor relation." "But what do you do?" "Oh, I play a good hand at bridge, a fair racket at tennis, and am always on hand to fill in when somebody doesn't show up for dinner." The least j trace of bitterness flavored this gratuitous gratu-itous account of himself, and the peroration per-oration was accompanied by an uneasy laugh. "In short, I'm what your English Eng-lish friends call a waster. But please don't think that I'm bidding for serious consideration." "I understand," the girl said quietly. "I didn't mean to bore you. either." "You didn't ; but you made me think - and wonder." "Why I'm content to be so useless?" use-less?" She nodded, with her shadowy smile. A wry grin answered that. "You certainly take the curse off of .., i raft averred. "Candor like yours is good for the egotism. The register of my self-esteem is now subnormal." "I didn't mean to be unpleasant. Mr. Traft." "Don't, please. Thus far you've done me good ; but if you say more, betray the least real interest in me, l get chesty and need taking down -again. And I'm forgetting Craven." "He was here only a few minutes ago. and promised to come bad- before long.',' "Then may I wait? You don't mind?" "No," said the girl. "Indeed, I've something to tell you. You've praised ' him to my face, and that makes me i want to tell you. I'm not Lucy Car- I teret, really, Mr. Traft. My name is j Lydia Craven. Thaddeus Craven is my father." ! "Oil, I say !" Teter stared incredulously. incredu-lously. "Not Tad Craven's daughter! You're serious?" "Quite." He nodded. "I see you are. But well you have surprised me. I don't suppose a soul who knows him would believe Tad Craven anything but a convinced bachelor 1" j So it was true Craven had never mentioned his daughter to his friends ! Staring seaward, Lydia worked her hands together gently ; and, watching her closely, the man saw her face fugitively fugi-tively convulsed. And wisely he held silence. "Mrs. Beggarstaff knows," the girl said presently, "and Mrs. Merrilees, and I dare say by tomorrow all his acquaintances on the ship will know. So, you see, I'm not violating his confidence. con-fidence. Only you spoke of him so warmly that you made me want you to understand." A quaver touched her tone ; but she persisted : "I'm afraid I've made a great mistake embarrassed embar-rassed him horribly, turning up this way. But I didn't know he was a passenger. pas-senger. I supposed, of course, he was at home In New York " Much of Peter's charm lay in his instinctive in-stinctive recognition of those times when It is wisest to say nothing. Nobody No-body could leave everything unsaid in a way more eloquent of sympathetic comprehension. So he stood very still, covertly watching her face and wondering. won-dering. "I couldn't help it They forced me to it the people I lived with in London. Lon-don. I knew it wasn't right, because I didn't love him. How can one marry a person one doesn't love? But when I wrote to daddy he wouldn't even answer, an-swer, and I couldn't help it I had to run away ! And now, of course, he's furious with me turning up here like the bad penny " . "Why should he resent that? I don't see why he couldn't have told us he had a daughter especially one like you ! It seems to me, the Innocent bystander, by-stander, that Tad hadn't any right to pose " "Don't! We mustn't misjudge him. You're his friend : surely you ought to make allowances for him, If I can. I'm sure he must have had his reasons rea-sons good enough reasons, if we only knew. Why must he take the world into his confidence?" Dumfounded, Peter stared ; then remembered re-membered himself that woman nature was a singular thing, its mental processes proc-esses defying masculine analysis. "You're right," he asserted meekly, after a pause. "Of course you're right ! I've known Tad Craven a long time and pretty well, if he Is a bit older, and I know he wouldn't do anything dishonorable or calculated to hurt anybody. any-body. He's not that kind." Impulsively Lydia's hand went out to Peter's ; but in the long instant that they sat hand in hand and eye to eye, each smiling a trace- consciously, signals sig-nals of distress showed in her wavering waver-ing glance, and within his grasp the pressure of her firm young fingers lessened les-sened until reluctantly he released them. "What is it?" Peter asked gently. "Only my presumptuousness inflicting inflict-ing you with my troubles, demanding your sympathy, as if I'd any right whatever " "I'm your father's friend, at least, Miss Craven, and such as I am if you care to think of me as your friend too, I'll be very glad not to say vainglorious." vain-glorious." She wouldn't have been a human girl had she lacked coquetry. A suspicion of mischief lightened the smile with which she regarded him, head judg-matically judg-matically inclined a bit to one side. "Mrs. Beggarstaff seems to think well of you " "She's kind-hearted and easily amused." "How you do continually cry yourself your-self down! What is one to think?" "When a man has the grace to speak humbly of himself, Miss Craven, listen with gratitude and amazement: truth is rare music in this world !" "Yet you urge your friendship upon me." "It is all I have to offer," he dropped for a moment his bantering tone: "poor currency, perhaps, but not counterfeit coun-terfeit ; lightweight, but without alloy." Then suddenly she was grave again. "You are kind," she averred wistfully, "and I need friends." Do you believe that Thaddeus Craven is an honest man? And does it occur to you that he may try to get rid of Lydia in order to insure the success of his projects whatever they may be? (TO BiJ CONTINUED.) |