WHAT HAPPENED AT MONTALBAN?

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 62, Issue 44, 2 December 1941, Page 7

WHAT HAPPENED AT MONTALBAN?

By PETER BENEDICT.

(Copyright).

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Molly Balcon, at bhe pressing request of Dr. Leonard, goes to Montalban to take care of Barbara Montalban and her three-months-old infant. Barbara’s husband, Ralph Montalban, has just been acquitted on a charge of murdering Mailia Daunt, and the trial has aroused widespread interest. Soon after Molly takes over her duties, the acquitted husband reaches home after release. CHAPTER 111. RETURN OF THE ACCUSED The reunion of husband and wife was not dramatic, though there should have been drama enough in the homecoming of a man newly acquitted of murder. It was plain to Molly that Ralph’s wife was still sufficiently fond of her husband to wish to be beautiful in his eyes. Instinctively the patient looked round for a mirror. Molly read the thought and put the heavy handmirror from the dressing-table into her hands. ' "He won’t be hard to please,’’ said Molly, and realised with some surprise j that the remark was almost in Cleone’s manner. However, it was scarcely

heard. Whatever the welcome below, Ralph Montalban was permitted to climb the dazzling oak' staircase alone. “I’ll leave you to talk to him,” said Molly. “I must go and see Mrs. Forester, and do some unpacking.” To her astonishment Mrs Ralph caught at her hand. “No, please don’t go, Nurse. Not yet. Stay with me just a minute after he comes, and then if -—if everything seems *all right ■” “But of course everything will be all

right,” said Molly soothingly. The little Creature clung, and her hand's were dry and thin, “You see, I don't know how I stand. He was in love with her. You must know that, if you read the : papers at all. Everyone in England knows my husband loved that woman. "Why should I pretend I don't realise it?? I do. Fve always

known. When she used to sit down by the lake with her lute, and everyone went out to listen to her, and he wouldn’t go. I knew then. And when she used to sit watching him, follow-

ing him round with those eyes of hers. She had to have them all. All the men

—every man there was ” She looked up. Her eyes were brilliant and vindictive. “How do I know he’ll be glad to come back? Maybe he wishes he was going to hang.” “There’s his baby,” said Molly sensibly, “Don’t forget you have that hold on him. Besides!! I think you’re

forgetting that her influence has been gone for three months. Of course he’ll be glad to come home. And gladder

than you can imagine to see you again.**

“I wonder,” said Mrs Ralph, and

smiled a small, thin smile. The door opened with no knock, and Ralph Montalban came in, rather as if he had been away for a week-end. He gave Molljr a glance, and appeared to sum her up accurately at once. ’ He came straight to the bedside, and bent and kissed his wife lightly. “Hullo, Barbara! How are you, dear?" “Its nice to see you, Ralph,” she said almost timidly, and made „a shy gesture of invitation. “Do sit by me. I’m not really ill, though Doctor Leonard insists on making me have a nurse.” She cast a more confidant smile at Molly, "Nurse Balcon only arrived a few minutes ago.’

Ralph sat down obediently. He look-

ed rather younger in the flesh than in his photographs, and the intense dark of his eyes and hair proved upon closer examination to be only a deep reddish brown; but the face remained disturbing, primitive, and haggard and imperious. He had a smale for Molly, but it was a very perfunctory smile. "I'm glad you have someone here to take care of you,” he said. “You’ve lost flesh, Bar. I’ve worried you terribly, I know. I’m sorry.” "It’s been a bad time for all of us. But you couldn't help it,” she added eagerly. “I think so,” he said, and was abruptly silent, frowning, smoothing her hand between his own. He went on in the same abstracted voice: “I must have a talk with Dr. Leonard some time. Perhaps if I took you away -- later on. We’d leave the baby with nurse'here. You’d forget all about this business—” Barbara was trembling a little, but Molly, watching her narrowly, "Saw that her face was happy and peaceful. "But I’m going to be all right, Ralph. I shall soon get stronger, now that you're safe.” “Yes,” said Ralph, marvelling, "yes, it’s all over. If I thought that you—that we could put the clock back—” Molly had been right. All they needed was a little privacy. Molly made a diplomatic murmur that she must see Mrs Forester, and removed herself unnoticed. She heard, as she closed the .door gently behind her, his voice again, a shaken murmur, saying. “I feel guilty as Hades, Barbara. “Oh, my dear, not on my account you mustn’t. I’ve told you —” “Really,” thought Molly, treading slowly down the wonderful, orangeglowing stairs, "I don’t see that anyone here needs me, unless it’s the baby. That sort of treatment will make a new woman of Mrs Ralph in no time.” . „ . . Cleone was sitting in the hall, in somewhat desultory conversation with a smaller, slighter, younger edition of herself. She looked' up at the sound of Molly’s step, and lounger to her feet. "Here’s Nurse Balcon in person. My sister Blise—” Molly saw a sullen face, a thin figure lacking the hint of Parisian grace which made Cleone pleasant to look upon. The girl nodded in

an abstracted fashion, and said abruptly:

“I don’t envy you, nurse. I wouldn’t have the job of looking after Barbara for the world.” *

“I don’t expect to find it so difficult,” said Molly, with a slight smile. “Especially with a little co-operation from her husband.”

“I’m glad he’s behaving himself,” said Cleone composedly. “That would have been one more complication. Now perhaps you’d like to talk ■ to our housekeeper—and to the girl who’s been looking after baby. It was purely a temporary arrangement—the girl leaves us to-morrow. Poor creature, she’ll be glad to go. We are, as you must have noticed already, somewhat wearing to the nerves.” * Cleone was leading the way along a half-lit oaken corridor, and her smile, as she looked back over her shoulder into Molly’s face, was bitter and wild. “Don’t look shocked, Nurse. You must Understand we’ve lived with this thing for three months, nearly, and we tired long ago of trying to dress it up and make it look respectable.” “Not shocked,” said Molly, stung, “merely intrigued.” For some reason the most normal of people resent the supposition that they can be shocked, and Molly was no exception. “You’ve probably lost the flavour of it yourselves, but to a mere onlooker it’s rather piquant. However, you know, you’ll be helping quite a lot if you’ll leave it outside Mrs Ralph’s bedroom; it doesn’t do her any good.” “I suppose not. Poor Barbara! I’m really rather sorry for her. Still, be content, Nurse. Now that you’re here I needn’t go in to her at all. She won t mind, and I shall he delighted.”

Somewhere in the vast back regions of the house, in a small sitting-room attractively furnished, they found the housekeeper. She had piled grey hair, and a passiQpless face, and her voice when she spoke was slow and overweighted, so that the words, ran singly, with an exaggerated significance. This woman could live through all manner of strange tragedies and not be moved; changes of staff no doubt there had been since the death of the girl Daunt, but no such slight incident could disturb the rest of Mrs Forester. She offered a hand as hard and unemotional as wood, and was glad to see "Nurse Balcon, and hoped Nurse Balcoh would he comfortable. Her luggage had, of course, been taken up already to her room; and as she had set out early supper was being prepared for her.

The promised supper came on the instant, and was not unappreciated. Alone with Mrs Forester, she ate and listened.

“It might be. convenient for you to have your meals here,” said Mrs Forester, “that is, if you have no objection. There’s a stairway just outside the door here that leads full on to the corridor where Mrs Ralph’s room is; and you go out by the side door—l’ll show you in the morning—you come right‘into the .sunniest corner of the orchard, where baby’s, pram usually goes on fine days. 'We’re very quiet here; there’s no one but myself and Mr Severn.

“Mr Severn is old Sir John’s attend-ant-male nurse, if you like, though to be sure I don’t think the old gentleman needs a nurse, exactly, even if he is nearly ninety. A very nice gentleman, Mr Severn.” She looked down her nose* and her tone was not at all a tone of' liking. i (To be continued.) The characters in this story are entirely imaginary. No reference is intended to any living person or to any public or crivate pronertx..