JILL OF THE FIELDS A ROMANCE

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 237, 7 October 1933, Page 11 (Supplement)

JILL OF THE FIELDS A ROMANCE

I By KENNAWAY JAMES

I Author of "Hers to Command," "What Ha r - greaves Knew," |. etc. |

CHAPTER VIII. Jill Takes Action. Mark felt liimself wishing that the message had not come, for ho had begun to see himself almost in a ridiculous light. Tlio meeting with Freda on happily equal terms had made his inferior position with Jill seem slightly uauseous. Nevertheless he set out for the farm, though feeling that he was obeying a summons rather than responding to an invitation. Jill had discarded her farm clothes for an evening frock, and, in the mellow light of the large oil-lamp on the polished oak refectory table, looked a vision which was devastating to Mark. He took a scat opposite her by the fire. She said ho might smoke his pipe, and he did. Jill opened the conversation with some matters concerning the farm. She. intended later to refer to Mark's outburst in the dairy. "You know, Mark, Stone Farm has not been doing too well just lately," she said, "I have just had my books back from the accountants in Denbridge, and their letter is not at ,all encouraging." "Accountants never are," said Mark "I don't quite see where we're wrong." "Well, for one thing our milk yield is down on the corresponding quarter though wo liavo the same number of milking cattle —good ones too. It looks as though the feeding is at fault somewhere."

"I can't quite agree," said Mark, "but if the yield is down then it's up to me to get it up again." "Well, it's a thing we two must attend to ourselves rather than leave it to tho men. Those Hcrefords havo been in Long Loasow without a change for Heaven knows how long." From this Jill went to other brandies of the farm which were apparently at fault. Sho was genuinely in dread that Stone Town might be drifting towards failure. Then she said: "I want to be awfully frank with you, Mark. Do you think you havo been quite so thorough lately as you used to be?"

Mark knew she had put her finger on tho right spot. He had been slack, but lie dared not tell her the reason—which was herself. Nevertheless he knew that this cause applied only to recent weeks. It did not account for the wliolo of the period under review.

His reply, he thought, had to be one of denial.

"Of course I have," he replied hoarsely. "I always want to do my best for you, Jill."

"Thank you," said Jill, her eyes becoming suddenly moist. "I should be brokenhearted if Stone Town went down the hill."

They made a strange picture as they sat in this old kitchen. Mark, handsome and virile, and attractive, too, in spite

u his old tweed suit and his diffident manner, and she so essentially delicate and alluring. An onlooker would have been pardoned had ho disbelieved that she was a farmer! Mark wanted to take her in his arms and assure her that she and her farm and everything pertaining to it would be' safe in his hands. Jill, feeling herself perilously near tears, changed the subject to one which, for some reason sho did not care to guess, was almost equally unpalatable. She had felt a definite pang of jealousy iwlien sho had seen Mark with Freda Lane that evening. At of their friendship Freda had shown that she admired Mark for his manliness, for she was the type of girl who was not afraid to say so.

"Was it tea at tho vicarage to-day?" sho asked, her customary smile returning.

"Well, as a matter of fact, it was," replied Mark.

Jill had made a guess and was surprised to find herself right. • "Freda is an interesting girl," she commented. Sho wanted to see how Mark would react. Mark made no attempt to hide his enthusiasm.

"She's great," ho replied heartily, "and has been good enough to lend me some books which I have dearly Manted to read. Pretty, too," ho added, as he knocked out his pipe casually on a log in the fire.

Jill's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Yes, she's pretty," sho replied laconically. "If it wasn't for what you said to me in the dairy, I should think you were in danger of falling in love with her."

Thus did Jill open the subject which was really tho only one about which sho had wished to speak to Mark. She took him by surprise, for she had said earlier that the subject was to he .tucked away out of sight. Mark was silent for a few moments before he replied.

"I—l'm afraid that, to me, falling in love means gcUinr; right out of my depth. I should not do it twice," he added, gazing into tho fire as he spoke.

Jill moved her chair a little nearer to him and he caught tho delicate perfume of lavender.

"Mark," she said seriously, "you really ought not to have spoken to me like that. You've made me—made me very unhappy. Why did you do it?"

I "Oh, Jill, I couldn't help it," he replied, all his prearranged caution forgotten. "I do love you, and I always shall. And, Jill, I'm going to ask you something, whatever may bo tho outcome of it. Do you —do you think that you could ever . .

At that moment there was a knock at the door and Mrs. Blore, the housekeeper, appeared.

"There's Mr. Phillip Barbour to see you, Miss Jill," she said.

"Oh, damn!" exclaimed Mark in a voice which did not reafcli the slightly deaf old lady. Then ho added, "Do you wish mo to go?" "No, please stay here, Mark," replied' Jill, then, turning to Mrs. Blore, she said, "Please show Mr. Barbour in." „ CHAPTER IX. George Sees Something. Despite tlio undoubted awkwardness of the situation, Jill was forced to laugh at Mark's expletive. " Don't be angry, Mark," she said. " lie won't bite you."

Mark himself was forced to smile, but for a second only. Why on earth had the fellow chosen that precise moment to come blundering in upon them ? It seemed that some instinct had prompted Barbour to come and make a fool of him.

Mark had not forgotten Barbour's reference to the former's " rustic ignorance " on the occasion of his first call at Stone Town. And, anyhow, what did he want there at all? Still, thought Mark the intruder would see that Mark Hanson was something more than a head man of a farm. It would be plain that he was on term 3 of social friendship with Jill,

As these thoughts flashed through his mind tho door opened to admit Phillip Barbour, and the visitor was still his exquisite self. Ho was wearing a perfectly cut grey suit which threw up to advantago his olive complexion. " Oh, Miss Merriuew," he exclaimed, " I am fortunate to find you in." He ignored Mark, who was standing near Jill. Jill acknowledged his greeting, and turned to Mark. ' Let ino introduce Mr. Hanson," she said, " though I think you have met him already." " That is so," replied Barbour, giving Mark a slight nod. " I remember the occasion well." If Mark was annoyed by Barbour calling, Barbour was equally displeased by Mark's presence with Jill. There was a certain amount of electricity in the air, and Jiil could feel it. Sho bado them both be seated and turned tho conversation into more general channels. Her effort, however, was rather a failure, for each man had his separate grievance. Mark, because Barbour had interrupted his vital conversation with Jill, and Barbour because ho could not' begin his own talk with her. " Would you rather I called again, Miss Merridew?" asked Barbour presently. " I can seo you arc giving Mr. Hanson his instructions." Mark hoped desperately that Jill would tako advantage of this offer, but Jill acted entirely to tho contrary. " No, please stay," she said. " You

havo come over specially to see me, which is kind of you." The effect of this on Mark was pronounced. He saw in it his dismissal from Jill's presence, though Jill had not meant it in that way at all. Anger surged within liim, though he managed to keep a civil tongue. "If you'll excuse me, Jill," he said, 1 think I will go. There are several things I want to attend to." Before Jill could decide what to say, Mark had bowed to both of tlieni, and was nearing the door. Once outside, Mark let his rage have rein. Ho cursed audibly as ho plodded back to his cottage. Ho had purposely called Jill by her Christian name. He would show this London pest on what terms lie was with Jill. If only he could meet him and pick a quarrel with him he could get some satisfaction. To give the fellow a good hiding would give him a world of pleasure. Perhaps sooner or later this would happen. Intuition told him that it

Ho returned to his books, but they hat lost their savour. lie was defimtelj angry with Jill, and deliberately endeavoured to turn his mind to Freda Lane not without success, for here, he thought was a girl who understood him. Meanwhile Barbour had settled down in undisputed bliss. JiU was au no y c _ with Mark's attitude for, despite his polite words, sho had seen_ the anger blazing in his eyes. Sho disliked pettiness, especially in a man. And she felt that Mark had been childish in his behaviour. . Barbour's case of manner, lus witty conversation and breadth of knowledge bean again, as they had on his previous visit, to take hold of her. l r et her heart was sore. Having put sentiment aside for the sake of the farm, she now felt more affected by it than would another girl. Her quarrel with Mark, his declaration of love, her knowledge of Freda's slight triumph and tlio events of this evening all combined to bring her nerves to an unusually sensitive condition. She found herself listening absentmindedly to Barbour's technical description of the coat-of-arins. It seemed that he had taken much pains to get

information for her and sho was grate

ful. Meanwhile Barbour, who by now had decided that he was as much in love with Jill as he had been with any other girl—which perhaps was not saying a great'deal —was doing his best to make a good impression. His London friend, Dogsbody," had discovered many interesting facts from the coat-of-arms concerning Jill's family, proving it to be of greater antiquity than even her father had known. "The Merridews are a great and distinguished family," he said, "and it is a fine thing for you to represent it in these equalitarian days." Jill looked wearily pleased, and he continued:

"Ah! Stone Town! What a history!"

He had risen to examine a monogram engraved on the old stone mantelpiece. Jull.liad automatically risen with him.

"Yes, what a history! You have a great heritage in Stone Town and its farm. May it ever prosper."

As he spoke these words Jill's eyes travelled to the set of farm account books on the table, and the accountant's words of warning cawe beck to- her.

Tho heritage was not exactly prospering at the moment. A sudden wave of helplessness came over her and her eyes filled with tears. With desperation she fought to keep them back, but soon was compelled to turn from Barbour as the sobs came and convulsed her. Jill the farmer, Jill of the strong will, had become Jill the girl, emotional as any other. For a moment Barbour stood amazed. "Why, whatever- " he was about to ask, when a protective instinct forced him to an impulsive action. Ho made a step forward and took Jill in his arms and gently smoothed her hair. Her head was on his breast as she sobbed. She did not care. The impropriety of his action, which would otherwise have angered her, was nothing to her. She cried almost contentedly. Her extreme loneliness was mitigated. What would Mark not have given for that heavensent opportunity!

Barbour was overwhelmed with pity and astonishment. He, like others, would never have assqeiated Jill with tears. Nor yet would he have imagined himself capable of so precipitate an action. He was too much an artist in these things to make mistakes. What would be the outcome of the present perturbing situation he could not anticipate. His quest for the fertiliser formula had gone from his mind. Who could think of fertilisers with a pretty girl sobbing on one's breast!

"My poor girl," he whispered. "You must tell mo about it afterwards." He kissed her hair so lightly that she was unaware of it. Suddenly she gave a little cry.

"Oh, whatever is the matter with me?" sho said between her subsiding sobs. Then she'almost pushed Barbour.away and sank into a chair.

Now came a period of embarrassment. Probably both would have been more embarrassed had they known that the whole of this little drama had been witnessed through the window by none other than old Gearge.

He had seen Barbour in the neighbourhood and had guessed that ho would be calling at Stone Town. He had his own reasons for being interested in the activities of Mr. Barbour. Ho was by now convinced that he was in pursuit of the formula, and intended to keep a close watch on the stranger's activities. But he had never expected such a treat as this. Bless his body and soul, and dang his rags if he had. 'He would have to tell Mark about it. Mark wouldn't half laugh.

Like those of many old farmhouses, the windows of Stone Farm were without blinds. There were heavy shutters outside, but these had been meant for more nefarious days, and were too much of a trouble to close without reason. Old George, therefore, had an uninterrupted view, which, as he said, was "better than a fillum."

After moving away from Barbour, Jill sat staring into the fire. "I don't know whatever you will think of mo, Mr. Barbour," she said brokenly. Barbour stepped forward and eat on the arm of her chair. His hand found her hair again in a consoling caress, but Jill' gently, removed it. "Tell me all about it," he said. "Oh, I can't," exclaimed Jill. "It is so many things all at once. You have been awfully kind to me. I'm afraid I've been very silly."

In answer Barbour bent over her and kissed her hair again. This time Jill reacted quickly, and resented his action,

"You had better go now," she said, with a touch of her old dignity. "Very well," said Barbour. He knew when things could bo overdone. "But I beg of you to let mo call again in the morning. There are many things I want to say to you, and I'm sure I am capable of helping you out of some of your troubles at any rate. Good-night, I'm going to risk a lot, and say 'Good-night, Jill."'

Jill smiled up at him wanly. After all, he had been most kind to her, and when you have wept on a man's breast and had his arms about you, you can hardly begin to draw the line at his uee of your Christian name.

When he had gone, Jill sat long thinking of the extraordinary half-hour which had just passed. She had amazed and disappointed herself by her breakdown, for she had imagined herself to have been made of sterner stuff. She could still feel about her the comforting arms of Phillip and hear his reassuring voice. Any doubt* she had about allowing him to call on tho morrow were dissipated on reflection. Somehow sho needed him.

It was clear that Mark could only mako her more unhappy. Had she loved him, it would havo been different. But did she love him? Although her feelings for him were the tenderest, she could not call it love.

As for Phillip, she resented his familiarity, loathed the recollection of her outburst, but still felt drawn to him, attracted even though she feared him.

With these conflicting emotions in her breast she went up to the Ladyes' Room and was presently fitfully asleep. (To be continued daily.)