FOR LOVE OF BETTY

Auckland Star, Volume LIII, Issue 73, 27 March 1922, Page 10

FOR LOVE OF BETTY

BY MAY CHRISTIE

LXXXIX. — AWAKENING MEMORY. Jack Trevor lay back on his pillows, and stared at the nurse who had given him such astounding information. The real import of her. words had scarcely penetrated his bra'tf. "A fair-haired, fluffy sort of girl—posing as Betty Gordon?" he repeated weakly. *'Yes, certainly.'' Hiss Crowcll's delightfully modulated tones were firm and clear. Then, as she saw the anxious look in his dark eyes and guessed tliat lie was groping in the recesses of his mind for some forgotten and not altogether pleasing memory, she added: "Don't try to think just now—just lie still and rest." There was silence in the little room then —a deep, unbroken silence. .lack Trevor closed his eyes. Yet —as ill a panorama—vague pictures floated before him. A spray of lilac on a little table close to his bed gave forth a wonderful, disturbing perfume. Of what did it remind him, that sweet scent? The memories that it awoke were poignant. A moonlit countryside in sprint imc . two young lovers in an earthly paradise ... a sleepy twittering from boughs above . enchanted isolation with the girl he loved Was it finished, now, that dream? How cool and fragrant it had been, the little green world where he had lingered! " The perfume of the lilac brought. I it back to him. ... ! Where was Ehe now. the girl who had vowed she would always love him? Had she no idea that he wanted her—wanted her more than anything on earth, no matter what had happened? Gradual ly ihe cloud began to lift from Trevor's brain. "Tell mc about this other girl, purse," he said weakly. But Miss Crow-ell shook her head in a decided negative. "Plenty _f time to talk after you've had a sleep," she answered. "I'll pull I the blinds down and go away jor a little while." She drew the shades, and left her patient to his thoughts. A little bit of sunlight, despite all her precautions, forced its way into the sickroom, nnd flickered on the wall opposite Trevor's bed. He opened his eyes and watched it. . . . It seemed to him that that elusive flicker of molten gold reminded him of Betty—a will-o'-the-wisp to lure him on —something intangible, always beyond his grasp. And what was the vague, disturbing thing that Miss Crowell had said? "A fair-haired, fluffy sort of girl—posing as Betty Gordon!" The effort of concentrated thought was painful. His head was throbbing as though it contained a dozen dynamos. This fair-haired intruder must be —April Moore ? But he didn't want to see her — he only wanted Betty. ... If Betty could only place her cool, slim little hand on his hot forehead! What were all the vague, queer happenings that had separated them from each other? But he didn't care what she had done —or said—or. written. She was his girl for all time, through everything. He fell asleep at last,, and dreamed about her. And April Moore was gradually making the unpleasant discovery tXat the web which she had been so industriously weaving for the past few weeks was growing tangled. Worse even than that, it threatened to enmesh the weaver in its toils! "I'm in an awful mess!" Her little pettish face had lost some of its babyish prettiness and had taken on an almost shrewish look. For April saw her pleasant, easy, luxurious world slipping from her greedy, grasping fingers. "Suppose I've over-rea.hed myself*" The thought was maddening. As she sat in the lounge of her hotel, daintily sipping a cup of after-luncheon coffee, "it seemed to her as though she were curiously forlorn and friendless. For April "was the type of girl who must always have a varying string of lovers and admirers in her train. . . . who must be always petted, appreciated, made much of . .to whom Mattery and adulation were the \-ery breatn of "life. And in this dreary northern town the flattery and adulation were almost negligible. * True, the young doctor from the hospital had shown her marked attentions, but just lately he seemed to have somehow "cooled." April had just telephoned him. inviting him playfully to share her solitary cup of coffee. Over the wire he had declined, with a certain chilly note in his "professional" tones. "He doesn't trust mc any more. That cat of a nurse has been telling tales." An angry gleam was in the girl's blue eyes. He had been a considerable asset — this young doctor. Charlie" Davon's letters, too, hatchanged. He had written April lately a curt sort of note, in which he sang the praises of Miss Betty Gordon very . highly. "The girl's a designing little minx!" said April, though in ber heart of hearts she knew that this description was much more applicable to herself than to the country girl.

SC—APRIL'S APPEAL. Yes, everything was going wrong for April. She idly speculated as to whether or no there was any truth in some of the well-meant advice her friends had given ber. "Life isn't all 'take'—it's 'give' as well," someone had assured her. Hitherto she had looked upon it all •as "take" • . . But now the plan didn't seem to be entirely working. . . She pulled herself together with a shrill little laugh. Clothes were an excellent antidote to all this gloomy introspection. * And. April soon was busily occupied in arraying herself in various garments bought with Trevor's "borrowed" money. '"Things may go a bit awkwardly .for mc over that two thousand five hundred dollars—if he insists on my repaying it," thought April. "But, at any rate, I' saved poor Charlie, and those frocks I bought with the remainder are really, very pretty, and becoming." !—ie spent an engrossing hour or two in pirouetting 'before the long-glass in lier room. -••'What a pity some of my New York* admirers aren't here to see!" she ejaculated, good humour quite restored. The psychological effect of clothes was marvellous on April. "If was drawing near, the supper hour before this dress reheareal came to an end.

Amtkor ef -Tho Marriage of Anne," "Bsterna's Married Uft, m and "At Cupid's CatL-

"I'll run round to the hospital and have a chat with Jack," reflected April. "His precious Miss Crowcll will be having supper then. Possibly I may have a word alone with him. . . I'd better hurry." Carefully rouged and powdered, so) that no trace of the worry of the last few days might show, April set forth, miracuously well dressed and attractive. "Men are so easily influenced by clothes," she complacently reflected, secure in the knowledge of her own excellent appearance. "It's a mercy I've Igot good taste, for that, combined with other people's money, has pulled mc through many a ticklish situation." Jack would need to be handled very diplomatically, of course. But in his present weak condition, he couldn't _old out long against her wiles. . . "I'll have to tell him how I've passed off as Betty Gordon." April made a wry little face at the far from pleasing prospect, —he hadn't the least idea that the information had already been gratuitously supplied by tbe nurse-iit-ciiarge. . . "He'll be pretty mad at lirst—but he's so chivalrous that I'll soon be able to talk him round—he never could hold out against a woman's tears!" April smiled, well pleased. As she drew near the hospital her courage rose. It was considerably dashed, however, when Miss Crowell —aggravating woman —insisted on accompanying her into the room where Trevor lay. . . . I They exchanged strange glances, too, this woman and her patient. It almost seemed as though some previous understanding existed between them. . . "Can she have told him anything':" April asked herself. But no —-there hadn't been sufliuent time. . . . "I'm-- so glad to see you're lietter dear.' cooed April, bending in a whirl of girlish gusli over Trevor's pillow. But -Miss Crowell drew her lirmlv back. j "Please don't excite the patient," she remarked, piloting April into a chain close to the 'bedside. "And yoji can only stay for a few minutes." April turned on her. annoyed. "I should like, under these circumstances, to be alone with my liance," she said, sharply. The nurse bowed acquiescence, but it seemed to April as though she Hung a warning glance in Trevor's direction. "Of course you may have a few minutes alone with him. Miss Gordon," she replied, emphasising the latter words. Then she withdrew. Trevor and April Moore were left alone. The sick man stared at the girl. "What are you doing here." he said, "and why are you posing as Betty Gordon?" April flushed. She had not expected this direct attack. "I—oh, 1 had to come—l went nearly mad with anxiety about you," she began, stammering. But Trevor cut her short. He had had enough of April's insincerity. "That isn't true—you never cared for mc at all—nor did I ever care for you." He spoke with almost brutal frankness, and April realised the absolute finality in his voice. "Oh—can't we be engaged again?' she stammered. "Oh, Jack, I—l want— I »m fond of you —" "Don't tell any more lies, April." he interrupted, sternly. "All talk of engagement and marriage between us is at an end—that's final." April 'burst into a storm of angry tears. "You—you v. mi—t marry mc," she sobbed. "Every one expects it—every one knows I've come up here __ you, to be near you—l'm hopelessly compromised—the whole world knows 1 am— you've got to marry mc." (To,uc continued daily.)