THE WOMAN WITHIN.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIV, Issue 304, 22 December 1903, Page 6

THE WOMAN WITHIN.

By ATHOL FORBES,

[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]

( lIAPTKi; XXXIX. "I lmpp not."' There was a look of fi-iiiiiiu , anxiety on the face of the enI uirer. "II i< m>l your fault, sir, but it is as 1 siv. his log is broken. This is what cii:in ■. Hi" iM-i 1 ing drunk." ■ i .tin ill"raid the fault must to a large eMfiil rest with mc. But this is not tin , linn , I.) inoralizt , , Richards, or to j, ;i- :in iiuiiitcuT preacher." ■"Well. nir. what is to he done? , ' li.irkin- groaned mid seemed in great pain. "We must get him upstairs to my n mil. unci someone lmd better go for the i.nH i-r. He cannot lie here.' , 1... injured man had revived sufficiently In hr.irwiial v ;is proposed. "No, no.'' ho protested, faintly. "I i■ i. -1 v<> lioinp." '■\'ini will lie all right here, and I will tal.e care that you have pood nursing. T'k'l'c is a spare room." "Nil."' lie persisted. "1 wish to be taken liiiiMP. I shall have good nursing, my mother v ill see lo I hat. Take mc home." i hctwynd lurried to his servant: "Telephone i'iit a doctor, Ilichards." "Ye-, -ir." an.l he disappeared. (aplain (hetwynd got sonio cushions fi " I r.sjr-i In mnkp tin. , patient comfort;- --; h!e until medical aid arrived. He was a Ira id t< , move him for fear of nggravatiir , the injury: and he saw it was torture to move him. "Take mc honie; I would rather go. if ymi will j_ r Pt mc a rah." Harking was suspicious about all this fcimliie-s. aid felt that he would be safer out ol the house after all that had taken ]jl,'ie. lie was determined to play the {rami , in tiie end. Besides, there was tht j woman lo lie seen to. She must not be allowed to .tret out. and how his motiier was faring with her he did not k:o\>. for he had not troubled himself (•> usi.'prtain. lie ground his teeth as he lav mi the floor;

"Curse my luck! Why did I come here ot :'ll? This has spoilt everything." •■('iin I get you anything?" enquired Chctwynd. Barking shook his head. ■' \ brandy and soda just to buck you up? Xn? Well, my dear chap, I am very Bniry nbout the whole matter. Of I will pny your doctor's bill and all expenses attendant on this accident, for which I feel that 1 am largely responsible, and \ will recompense you for any loss you may suffer."

Barking thought bitterly of the thousands thai had hpon his for the taking, and now seemed to be disappearing. I'resently the doctor arrived, and he nnulp n en refill As soon as lie touched him, Harking fainted with the pain. "It i> a had fracture," said the medical man. '"Hi* leg is broken in two phu-es. Where does lie live?"'

f'iiptiiin Chetwynd shook his head: "I ciiulil get to know."

"Wo must look in his pocKets and see whether I here are any letters. No; on 51 -ciim ls fliourrhlK. this case had better go straight into thp hospital. Ploase tell your man to call'a cab." ■■You will se<> that he has everythinp?" "Most certainly," replied the doctor. "ili- is in the employ of .a very great friend of mine—Mr. Langthorne." I know the gentleman very well by refutation. He has a house in West Kensington V

"Yes. Perhaps I had better go round there :il once and let him know of this accident, and he mentioned his mother, too. ou«;ht to know. Where do you live?" he asked, landing over the moaning man. "You would like mc to tell your mother?" Rarking hardly knew at that moment wlial he wished. There was a look of supreme misery on his face. The mental p in was more than the physical. "Poor fellow." murmured Ohetwynd. "1 will do nil I can for you." FTe nodded, determined, as he had no definite scheme, to leave things to cluince trusting to luck. 'Aiid I will let Mr. Langthorne know, so you need not worry about your office work." In obedience fo a motion from Barking, lift stooped down. "Promise hip one thing." "Mist certainly," was the prompt reply. "Do not tell Sir. Lnngthorne why I &!!':'■ to sec you. or what I said." t hotwynd, now convinced that the visit was some mad freak connected with hi- tipy state, promised with an assuring smile. "l.'on'i yon worry about that." "Rut it is a promise." persisted Barkinjr—"On your honour?" "On my honour, not a word shall pass my lips." The cab was now at the door, and the three men lifted the injured man and deposited him gently inside. The doctor gave instructions to the driver to <jn wry gently, and got in after him.

"I will follow you in a hansom, and sci' him comfortably settled," said Chetmvihl. ''You may want a hand when you arrive at the hospital. CHAPTER XL. FTusbnnd and wife were sitting together in the drawing-room. He had asked Kditli io play, not because he wanted music, but he wished her out of hearing •while lie talked with his wife.

.Mrs. Langthorne sat, leaning forward mi her chair, with all the sweet womanliness in her nature yearning to help the nmn she loved, imxioiis to share in the suHering, if only it could relieve him.

Kiiith tried desperately to play her best, but her heart was not in it. She Was wondering how much her mother

Author of "Cassock and Comedy," "A Son of Rimmon," etc.

knew, and what the dreadful calamity was that threatened to crush them. Tihen the tears began to steal down her cheeks, and she was thankful that she had something to do that her parents might not see her cry. The music jarred upon her, : vertheless. It seemed as if her own thoughts were being thundered aloud fol everyone to hear. However softly she played, the notes beat into her head as if they were pounded out of the instrument by a heavy hammer. She could endure it no longer. She broke off suddenly: "Mother, I am not: well. I will go to my room." She made a brave eifort to steady her voice and to get away quietly out of the room. "Leave her to mc, John," said his wife. Botih had started to.their feet when the music stopped. "She is unstrung, poor girl." Her mother accompanied her out, and he remained in the drawing-room. "God help my poor child!" he said. "God help us all!" How mad and monstrous it all seemed. Was there no escape possible? Was the intolerable burden of a life of misery before him and his? ".My own punishment T can bear, but my -wife, my child—are they no better than chessmen, moved by an unseen power—vessels that the potter fashions at will for honour or disgrace?" How incoherent pverything seemed; how lacking in all harmony! He was amazed now as hp thought of hjs own cheery optimism of a few days ago, and contrasted it with the real fa-cts of existence. He felt a mad desire to rush out of the house, to seize the casual passer-by and demand an explanation. "Captain Chetwynd," announced the footman.

'"I have just come from a young man in your employ—Douglas Barking. Ah* Mr. Langthorne, you are ill," he said. ''I am afraid I was very abrupt." "Go on, Chetwynd; let mc hear what you have to say,' , he said, in a dry, husky voice.

''It is a bad business, but stay, before I go on with my story, had I not bettel ring—had you not better have something? My news can wait, for the patient is in good hands. "No, thank you. What has happened? What patient are you speaking of?" ''I am afraid I have alarmed you, but an accident has happened to Barkinghe has broken his leg in two places, 1 fear, so I thought I had better come on and see you. He is now in the hospital. I saw him safely deposited there and as comfortable as the poor chap could be under the circumstances, but it appears he has a mother, and she ought to know at once." "'Where did the accident happen?" Captain Chctwynd was nervous, and hesitated. "At my rooms, unfortunate ly. He called to see me—l cannot saj any more about that. His business was of a private nature, and I gave him my word that it should be regarded as such." The two men's eyes met, and for the moment there was silence. "You look ill and worried, sir." "I am worried, and I am ill. You are right, Chetwynd, and your news has rather taken mc aback." "I should like to say that the fault is mine that Barking is in the condition he is."

In a moment it flashed upon him, and everything was clear. Barking had gone there with his story; there had been in> dignation on the part of Chetwynd; a fight—and the broken leg as a result.

The older man saw that if Barking had said anything, he had not been believed. Chetwynd felt it was required of him that he should say something further in explanation.

"The fact is, Mr. Langthorne, I fancy the youth had been doing himself too well. I was getting him out of my place when he fell downstairs. However, I hope you will not let this slip on his part"—■ and his eyes twinkled at the mild joke— "be in any way detrimental to his future in your employment. He is young and indiscreet."

Mr. Langthorne breathed freely once more.

"I am in a very nervous state, Chetwynd, at present. It must have appeared strange, my behaviour, when you called, but the least thing now in the nature of a surprise upsets mc." "I am afraid I was very abrupt, sir." "No, no; it is my nerves." "Could you give mc the address of hia mother, so that I can go there? or could I get it from any of your clerks?" "It is very good of you. Yes, I have his address, if I can only think." He had them all in a book, for it was his custom every Christmas to send a present to each of his employees. "If you will excuse mc a moment, I will look among my papers in the library. I know I have it somewhere."

Chetwynd wondered why Edith was not in the drawing-room, and felt cblled. He turned over the music which still rested on the piano. It wae a volume of Beethoven's Sonatas which he had given her, and it g-laddenod him to find that she had been playing his favourite pieces. When Mr. Langthorne returned to the room, he was more himself, and he had made up his mind what to do.

"I have got the address; it is one of the Courts off Chancery Lane."

"Then I shall take the Underground to the Temple."

"Xo, Chetwynd, I will do that. I feel as if I wanted something to do, and, after all, it is more my affair. I mean, I don't see why you should have all the trouble, and I know his mother—a very respectable, good woman. Yes, I must go." "Shall I come with you?" "Thanks—No. I should prefer to go alone, but I am very much obliged to you for telling mc." "I hope Miss Edith is quite well?" He hoped there would be an invitation to stay while Mr. IJangthorne went on his mission of charity, but he was disappointed.

"I am sorry to say my daughter is not at.all well."

"May I come and see her to-morrow? I can call at the hospital on my way and let you know how the patient is." "Yes, come to-morrow, Chetwynd." And still wondering at his peculiar manner, he took his leave. (To be continued daily.)