The evening world. Newspaper, October 1, 1921, Page 13

\ ~e ee ee ee areal ex ov: infe { qu 7 TWO SECTIONS. he Ho mer rye mee pee ‘ iN SECTION 2. ‘SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1921. es aes saci nourable Billy . By RUBY M. AYRES Illustrated by C. D. BATCHELOR and WILL B. JOHNSTONE —_ A Pair of Fair-Weather Friends, an Old Rich Lord, a Bored Aunt, and a Charming and Mysterious Girl Give Billy an Exciting Month. A FIANCE BY REQUEST. HE HON. BIELY stuck out his ; long legs and stared at his rather large patent-shod feet with morose eyes. “Broke!” he said with tragic elo- quence, and looked across the fireplace pathetically at the man who sat op- posite him. i The man in the arm chair opposite was looking at Billy with eyes that were not altogether friendly. “You'll have to marry a woman with money, that’s all,” he said carelessly,: helping himself to another cigarette from Billy’s case, which lay on the table between them, “Miss Eyed would have you any day for the asking, and she’s worth a quarter of a million, vit of fat for you, my boy. the chance.” The Hon. Billy flushed. At that very moment a pink, highly scented letter lay in his breast pocket from Vi Chal- kcner, the woman upon whom he had squandered his substance; a nicely worded letter, politely intimating that she no longer had need of him. The Hon, Billy brought his clenched fist down with a thump on his big knee. “rll marry no woman for her money,” he said fiercely. “I may be a fool, but I’m not such a cur as that! I've done with women,” he Wish I'd Besides, added. The man in the deep chair looked at his watch and hauled himself lazily to his feet. “Well, you won't mind if I run away, will you? Promised to go to dinner at the Challoners.’ So long,” he said lightly. va He picked up his coat from a chair and lounged out of the room. Instinct told the Hon. Billy that the friendship between himself and Ralph Furnival was at an end. He sat for a long time staring into the glowing fire, So Furnival was going to dine with the Challoners! Billy could picture the scene so well. Vi Challoner radiant ‘and beautiful in the shaded lamplight, possibly talking of him and his down- fall in the careless cold way in which he had heard her speak of so many cther poor devils. “Poor Billy!” he could almost hear her say. “Poor old Billy! But he al- ways was so stupid with his money, wasn’t he?” The Hon. Billy clenched his teeth and swore in his heart that he was not beaten yet. Many a better man than he had gone broke affd survived it. The day should yet come when he would show Vi Challoner and Furni- val that his was not a friendship to be lightly thrown aside, The Hon. Billy thrust the pink, scented note down in the flames, holding it there with his foot till nothing was left but powdered gray ash. He had done with her—done with her, And because of her treatment of him he had done with all women forever, Some one knocked softly at the door, His man entered, “Please, sir, a lady to see you.” The Hon. Billy turned round as if he had been shot. “She won't give no name, sir,” the man went on almost resentfully, “But abe says as it’s most important.” “I can’t see her,” said the Hon. Billy It would be a_ snappily. “I can’t se® any one. Tell Ler I'm out—ill—dead—anything you like.” “I've told her all that, sir, and she says she will not go till she sees you. “Oh, rubbish!” said the Hon, Billy. He touched a switch by the mantel shelf and flooded the room with light. “Show her in,” he growled. Billy’s first impression was that the girl who entered was very young; his second that she was very beautiful— far more beautiful even than Vi Chal- lcner, whose portraits on postcards adorned nearly every shop window in London. “Good evening,"’ she said. He drew forward the chair which Furnival had left, and the girl dropped into it. The Hon, Billy stood looking down at her with an air of bewilderment, The girl'turned her head suddenly. “Are you engaged to be married?” she asked. The Hon. Billy stared. “Oh, I say!" he ejaculated at last, helplessly. “Of course, you think I am out of my mind,” she said cheerfully, “but, indeed, I am not. You see, if you're not engaged I want you to be en- gaged to me!” The last words tumbled over each. too, sha’n’t I?” “How on earth—beguan the Hom Billy blankly, “Who is going to chap- eron us?” “Lady Mary,” said the girl promptly. Lady Mary was the Hon. Billy’s aunt; a woman who went everywhere and knew every one; a woman with a passion for gambling, and who like the Hon. Billy, was just at present broke! “She'd never ao It,” the Hon. Billy ceclared, “She would if she were sufficiently well paid,” said the girl. “I've always been poor and had to work hard; but y, e \ Ny \} , \\ hy i) THE BLOW TUMBLED FURNIVAL INTO THE CHAIR. The Hon. Billy bowed but did not move forward, “I am afraid’—— he began, but she interrupted, “I haven't come to sell you anything, if that is what you think, and I don't want you to give me any money.” She paused, and added with that little wavering smile: “I want to give you some," “I beg pardon,” said the Hon. Billy blankly. - She laughed outright now. “I know it sounds silly, but—may I eit down?” “Please,” sald the Hon. Billy. other pell-mell; a flood of color dyed her face, “What!” shouted the Hon. Billy. The girl sat up, suddenly grave. “It's just this,” she said quietly. “I've come into some money. I’m quite rich, My greatest wish and ambition fs to get into society.” She spoke quickly now, not looking at him, “I want to be ‘some one,’ I went to one society woman and offered to pay her if she would introduce me; but her terms were exorbitant. And, besides, I'd rather you did it. You know everybody, you go everywhere, and if Im engaged to you I shall be asked I've got money now, and my chance has come, if you will help me.” She drew a long breath. “Well, will you do it?” she demanded, The Hon, Billy strode the length of the room agitatedly, and back again, “Look here,” he said abruptly, “It’s not playing the game to foist an utter stranger on to one's friends and rela- tives, now is it? Can't you see how impossible it is?’ “No; nothing is impossible,” she said quickly. “Unusual, perhaps, but it’s done every day of the week. Do you mean to tell me that no society women are paid to chaperon the daughters @