IT HAPPENED TWICE.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 61, Issue 37, 23 November 1940, Page 7

IT HAPPENED TWICE.

CHAPTER, VII

ROUSED AT DAWN. v

Perkins said a word under. Ins breath. Disappointed as she was, Pose felt distinctively cheered, Perkins wrapped up the salts and gave them to the boy, who banged out. But the magic moment was past, 100 shy to attempt to recover it, Perkins went behind the counter. < Rose noticed how his hand shook as he picked up the prescription, and again his agitation pleased her. He disappeared behind the screen, and some minutes passed before he came back with a small parcel neatly wrapped and sealed. As he shook hands, Rose paused a moment, hoping he might say something else. He wanted to —she saw that—but shyness overcame him. "With a tiny sigh she turned and went.

Edgar reached home in tipie to dress for dinner. He asked after his mother and Peggy told him what the doctor had said. Then he went to his mother’s room.

When Peggy came down Mr Meakin was already in the drawing room, and Edgar was soon with them. He turned to Peggy. “Mother looks bad.”

“She had a shock,“ Peggy replied, “but Dr. Arkwright assured me there is no need to be anxious. He is not coming again until to-morrow afternoon.”

“I hope he is right,” said Edgar with such unusual gravity that Peggy gave him a quick look. The change in him was so great that she found it difficult to understand.

—Edgar was very silent during dinner, but Peggy and Mr Meakin chatted away. Peggy was a favourite with the old solicitor and she, for her part, liked him greatly.

1 Afterwards Peggy went up to relieve Rose, who had been sitting with Mrs Trelawney, now revived and by no means pleased to hear from Peggy that the doctor had ordered a milk diet. Peggy herself made her a cup of patent food. • Presently Edgar knocked and came in and his mother began to complain of being starved.

“May she have a glass of her wine?” Edgar asked Peggy and Peggy answered that she thought the doctor wouldn’t mind. The wine was a Chablis of which Mrß Trelawney was very fond, and there was a decanter in the room.

As it happened, it was empty and Edgar, instead of ringing, said that hewould refill it himself. He went down and came back in a few minutes with the recanter refilled. He himself poured out a glass and gave it to his mother.

She asked him ivhat he- had been doing and he told her that he had taken Mrs Jardine for a drive and had tea with her afterwards 1 Again Peggy was struck by 'Edgar’s kindness and consideration for his mother. Yet for the life of her she could not like him any better. The night of Chesliam’s death stuck in her memory. It seemed to her flatly impossible that a man who had shown such brutal selfishness as Edgar had then displayed could possibly reform. * '; Presently he went down and Peggy made the invalid comfortable for the night. Then she opened the bottle of medicine, carefully measured out the dose, and aclded water. “A new prescription,” she told the old lady. | “Dr. Arkwright thinks it will do you good and help you to sleep.” She gave the glass to Mrs Trelawney,'.who took the medicine obediently.

“It’s nasty,” she said with a little shiver as she dropped back on her pillows. Peggy recorked the bottle and put it on the bedside table next to the decanter. She washed out the medicine glass, then turned out the lights, leaving only the nightlight burning. After that she sat down in an easy chair. Mrs Trelawney spoke. . “There v is no need for you to wait, Peggy. I am quite comfortable.” Such consideration was unusual and Peggy felt a little glow of gratitude. “I’ll just stay, till you are asleep,” she said quietly, “then I will go down and talk to Mr Meakin.”

Mrs Trelawney was soon asleep and Peggy went down and had a chat with the lawyer. He told her he had drawn up the will and that it was properly signed and witnessed, and congratulated her on her legacy. “The only snag is this, Peggy,’’ he said, “that you have to stay with Mrs Trelawney while she lives. That’s a hard condition. A girl like you ought to marry and have a family.” She raised her head.

“It’s only natural that Mrs Trelawney should wish me to stay with her, Mr Meakin. It would be difficult for her to train anyone else to run the house. But, frankly, I shall be very glad to have this money,” Mr Meakin nodded.

“I take it you’ve saved something, Peggy. You have not much opportunity to spend money here.” “Very little,” Peggy confessed. “I have to help my sister. She was left badly off.’’ “Surely she got compensation for the death of her husband.” “She got three thousand pounds, but that is only about £l2O a year.” “It was a lump sum. She could have started in business of some sort,” Peggy shook her head. “Isobel is no good at anything of that kind. I’m glad to he able to help her.”

The lawyer remained silent. He knew much more about Isobel Cayley than he had admitted. He classed her as a selfish, pleasure-loving person of the same type as Edgar but would not say so for fear of hurting Peggy. He was really fond of Peggy and had already made up his mind that she was just the wife for John Arkwright. He had known of him for a long time past, for Arkwright was a particular friend of his son, Gerald, a doctorbarrister who was already well-known as a Home Office expert.

By T. C. BRIDGES. :: (Copyright). A Story of Mystery and Poison.

Presently Peggy got up and said good night. Before she retired, Peggy went into Mrs Trelawney’s room. She was sound asleep so Peggy went peacefully to bed. Tired, from her long day, she slept at once and did not move until roused by someone shaking her awa’o?. Rose was bending over her and Rose s face was white and frightened. “The mistress, Miss Peggy! She looks terrible'. I’m afraid she’s very ill.”

“THIS IS NOT NATURAL DEATH” In dressing gown and slippers hastily donned, Peggy ran into the room opposite. The curtains were still closed but Rose had switched on the light, and Peggy saw at once that Rose was right. Mrs Trelawney was breathing heavily. Her face was grey and her lips had a bluish tingle. Peggy did not waste a moment.

“Telephone for Dr. Arkwright,” she said to Rose. “Tell him it’s urgent.” Then, as Rose hurried out of the room, Peggy took a capsule of nitrite of amyl from a box at the bedside and broke it under Mrs Trelawney’s nose. ' The pungent fumes had no effect whatever, and now Peggy was really alarmed. She felt Mrs Trelawney’s pulse. It was terribly slow and irregular.. She drew the curtains and opened the window wide, letting in the fresh cool air of a dewy September moi’ning. But the dawn light only made Mrs Trelawney’s grey face more ashen. Rose came hurrying back. “We can’t get through, Miss. The wire’s bi’oken. It was the storm yesterday. I’ve called Vincent and told him to go with the car.” “That was right,” said Peggy. “Ah, he’s starting now.” “How is she, Miss Peggy?” “Bad, Rose. You’d better call Mr Edgar.” Rose rani off again and Peggy heard her rapping at Edgar’s door. In less than a, minnte Edgar came in. Efe was wearing a brilliantly coloured sills dressing gown over his rvyjamas, and his usually sleek hair was all on end. But it was the look on his face which startled Peggy. It wasn’t anxiety —it was sheiar terror and Peggy gazed at him in amazement. For a moment he seemed unable to speak and, wheii he did speak, his voice was hoarse and unnatural. “Ill—mother ill! What’s the matter with Her?” Then without waiting for Peggy’s reply, he hurried to the bedside and leaned over.

“'Good God!” he gasped/ “She’s dying.” Hie stepped back to abruptly that he bumped into the bedside table and knocked it over. It fell with a crash of breaking glass, which sounded unnaturally lofid in that quiet room. Edgar seemed unconscious of the wreck he had caused.

“The doctor 1 Send for the doctor,” he said. • <

“Rose rang at once,” Peggy told him, “but the wire is down. Vincent has gome with the car. Dr. Arkwright will be here in a very few minutes. You can’t do anything for her, Mr Trelawney. You had better dress.” Edgar stood a moment, staring at Peggy and, for the life of her, Pbggy could not read what was passing in his mind. “Yes, yes, I’ll dress,” he said at last and went out of the room.

Peggy 'busied herself picking up the broken glass. The wipe decanter, the medicine, bottle and the medicine glass ■\6ere all smashed. The piled! the pieoes on the table and mopped up the spilled liquid with a cloth. She had barely finished when she heard the car outside. Looking out pi the window she saw Arkwright, bag in hand, spring out. Another few seconds, and he was in the room.

John; Arkwright nevey wasted time or word's. He went straight to the bedside, laid his bag. on the table, then felt Mrs Trelawney’s pulse,. Peggy watching hint saw his lies tighten,. He opened his bag, took out a stethoscope.

For an hour or more the young doctor didtoverything iji his power to save his patient’s life, but all his efforts Were useless. It was impossible to rousie her from the deep coma into which She had fallen. Ju&b before eight o’clock Arkwright straightened his long body and turned to Peggy. “It’s the end,” he said. “I’d better tell Edgar,”, Peggy said, but Arkwright stopped her. ■ “Wait a minute, Peggy.” He paused and seemed to hare difficulty in finding words. His face, too, was so troubled that . Peggy was puzzled. “Tell' me,” he said geiftly. “You ar© sure you carried out my Instructions exactly.” Peggy’s eyes widened; “Of course,” she answered. “That medicine,” Arkwright went on. “You gave the precise dose indicated on the bottle?” “I did. I measured it very carefully and mixed it with the correct amount of water.” He pointed to the pile of glass on the table. “How did these things come to be broken?”

“Edgar bumped into the table and upset it. He was in the room just before you came.” Arkwright bit his lip. , . “It’s veiy unfortunate,” she heard him say. Peggy felt suddenly uneasy. “Why is it' unfortunate?” she. asked. “I can’t make out what you are talking about.”* “And I don’t find it too easy to tell you, Peggy. This is not a natural death. Mrs Trelawney has been poisoned.”

“Poisoned,” said Peggy slowly. There was a. puzzled frown on her faco as she gazed up at Arkwright. “Poisoned!” she repeated. “But—but that’s impossible. No one has given her anything except myself—oh c and Edgar.” “What did! Edgar give her?” “Some wine. Last night. Just a glass of, her own wine that yon allow her to have.” “Were you in the room?”

“Yes,, close by. I. saw him pour it out.” Arkwright stood stock still. The expression on his face showed that he was terribly upset. “The food,” he asked. “What did she have last night?” “A cup of milk food, as you ordered. Nothing else. T. made, it for her, myself.”

A sound that was like a groan came from Arkwright’s lips. (He looked at Peggy and saw that even now she. did not understand. He would have given

<To be continued)

his right band to spare her pain, but ho was a doctor and his duty came before anything else.” “There will have to be an inquest. Peggy',” he told her, and saw that at last she had grasped the situation. The colour faded from her cheeks, but her eye met his firmly. ■ “I understand now. I shall be suspected.” Arkwright did not answer. For the moment he could not speak.