JILL OF THE FIELDS
A ROMANCE
[By KENNAWAY JAMES.] (Author of “ Hers to Command,” “ What Hargreaves Knew,” etc.)
CHAPTER XVIII. The Rivals Meet. It was with a sense of relief that Jill asked Mrs Wore to show Barbour in. She had momentarily ceased to regard him as her lover. Phillip came in as light-hearted as ever. 11 flood morning, my, darling,” ho said effusively, as he came forward to greet her. Jill drew back a little as she replied tersely to his greeting. “ Sit down, Phillip,” she said. Barbour did so with a premonition of what was to come. “ Yes, it’s rather tough, isn’t it,” said Phillip. “ It’s astounding how these newspaper fellows find out things, isn’t it. Their job, I suppose.” “ Yes, obviously itks their job,” said Jill, “ and they do it well.” *' Never mind, Jill,” said Phillip. “ I suppose lots of people would get to knotv soon, and the news would be out in any case. Bit awkward so soon after the murder, but so long as we love each other wo can overlook little things of this kind. Why. you’ll be having shoals of congratulations tomorrow. ’ ’ “ Phew!” The exclamation was Jill’s. She was astonished at the light way in which Barbour was treating the matter. That in itself was sufficient to anger her, hut the reference to congratulations nearly drove her to rage. “ Me?” she cried. “ I receive congratulation! Don’t you think there might be someone who might congratulate you? Am 1 receiving such a favour that I am to be inundated with congratulations, whilst you, 1 Suppose, will be getting letters of sympahy?” Jill had risen from her chair and had drawn herself to her full height. The sight of her standing there in her breeches and leggings, her bosom pulsing with anger beneath her claret-col-oured shirt, and her eyes flashing with temper, was one which awed Barbour somewhat.
“Come, come. Jill,” he said, “I didn’t mean it like that. Of course I’m to be congratulated. It was only the way ” “Oh, don’t be hobnailed,” cried Jill. “ I’m not a fool. 1 can detect a masculine conceit as easily as 1 can detect sourness in milk. You’ve said it, anyhow, so we’ll let it pass. And now let’s talk about how this thing got into the papers.” “ You will remember that 1 asked you very specially not to tell anyone about it; yet it’s as open as though we’d advertised it. How do you think they got hold of it?” “ I can’t think. I’m sure,” replied Barbour. “ 1 can only put it down to some kind of eavesdropping, or, as is so often the case, that these chaps have guessed at it.” As soon as he had spoken the words Barbour regretted them. He knew he hail’ spoken a lie which, if he were forced to do, he could not support. Fortunately for him at the moment he failed to notice a gleam in Jill’s eye as she looked at him almost indulgently. “ Yes,” she said, “ it must be something like that,” Barbour breathed a sigh of relief. “I suppose there’s nothing we can do,” he asked with an effort at helpfulness. “ it doe.sn’t seem like it,” said Jill. By the way, it was you wno went down to see that newspaper man yesterday afternoon. What did you say to him?” “ Oh, simply told him you couldn’t see him. After all, Jill, at a time like this, you’ve got to be protected against things of that kind. Your poor nerves must be getting absolutely worn out.” “They are,” said Jill, “but I’m thinking of looking after them myself for the next few days.” “ What do you mean ” asked Barbour. “Well, let’s be frank,” replied Jill. Supposing 1 ask you a straight question, will you give me a straight answer?” “ I always give straight answers to straight questions,” said Barbour, with a touch of superiority. “ Not always,” said Jill, looking him very keenly in the eyes. “You have given me a very crooked one already. Tell me, when you spoke to that man—his name was Hissopp—did you not tell him that tho reason for your safeguarding me against intrusion was because you had just become engaged to me?” “Well, I may have, of course,” said Barbour, “ but 1 certainly don’t remember. Anyhow, what makes you ask tho question? You seem to have been spending time on the matter.” “I like to be sure of things,” said Jill, “ and I’m pretty certain in this case that you did tell him, and the sooner you admit it the better. And that, Philip, you may take as an ultimatum.” “ Very well, then,” said Phillip. “ I will say that I told him, but that I had forgotten that I had done so.” Jill gave a shrug of her shoulders and made a grimace. “ Tastes nasty,” she said. “Anyhow, I’ve had it all from Hissopp himself, so we won’t say any more about it; but let this he understood, whether we continue our engagement or not, that I don’t like men who tell lies, and that’s what you’ve been doing.” Barbout did some quick thinking. “Jill,” he said, “ I must have told him unwittingly, perhaps because I was so proud at being able to call you mine. Do forgive me, darling.” Barbour could sec that he was in grave danger of losing Jill. This, he told himself, he could no doubt bear. He had lost girls before and survived, but losing that formula was a different matter. No; whatever happened, he must hang on.
“See, Jill,” he said to her kindly, “ you are overwrought to-day. Don’t let’s talk about it for a day or so. We shall see things in a better light then " He stroked her hair, as was his wont, and Jill for a moment wondered if she were not being too hard on him. After all, he had been very gentle to her and sympathetic. She must allow him one or two failings, for there was no such thing as the perfect man. “All right, then,” she said, “don’t let ns sec each other again until tomorrow. But I don’t want you to consider yon are engaged to me any more until then We can talk it over again. Good-bye,. Phillip. I like you an awful lot, really.” Phillip Barbour was a clever man. He did not attempt to take her in his arms. He raised her hand and kissed it, not once, but many times; then ho left her. He walked moodily across the fields in the direction of Morley village, conscious that every piece of turf upon which ho trod belonged to Jill. He had had an unpleasant experience, and it was ono which would need some thinking over. Anger was uppermost in his mind, for he could see that his trivial lapse of tact with Hissopp had come very near to losing him the formula, and Jill with it. He was not the only man in those deltas at that moment who was thinking of Jill, for across the next meadow came a figure which seemed somehow familiar to him. It was that of Mark Hanson. It was not exactly the best time for the two men to moot, as tlrcy did, a few minutes later at Holly Bush stile. Their thoughts before the actual meeting were not dissimilar. To Mark, here came the man who had caused all the trouble, for, as Mark worked it out, Barbour had not only stolen Jill from him. but had some mysterious finger in some mysterious pie which had led to the murder. Old George had said as much, and old George did not say empty things To Barbour, Mark was anathema, because he had shown so clearly ids dislike of him. Further, Mark enjoyed Jill’s confidence, called her by her Christian name, and was the only other man about whom Jill seemed to trouble. Some intuition told him that Mark was behind Jill’s attitude to him to-day. Perhaps, in a way, he was right, for Jill had not gone through her experience with Mark that morning without appreciating the strength of Mark’s character, without failing to admire the manner in which he spoke to her for her own good. It was treatment she could understand. Still, as Mark cogitated upon these things, he was not pleased to have his thoughts broken by the appearance of the man who, he considered, had done him more harm than any man living. Ho had his own views of the engagement between Jill and Barbour, but his sensitive nature made him visualise himself in the light, indirectly, of an employee of Barbour’s. It was intolerable. and was made more so by Barhour’s greeting. “ Good day, Hanson.” “Day,” said Mark, as with native politeness, he stood aside to allow Phillip to cross the stile, which the two men had reached almost simultaneously. Phillip, however, did not cross the stile, but leant upon it as though prepared for conversation. After all, ,he had thought, it might not pay him to quarrel with Marik at this juncture. He was too much in Jill’s confidence. “ Any developments? ” he asked. “ I’m afraid I don’t understand you,” said Maiik. Phillip noted the hostility, but ignored it. “ I mean with regard to Stone Town —the murder and so on,” he said pleasantly, loathing Mark all the time. “ None that I know of,” said Mark. “ The only developments I’ve noticed ■were in one of the papers this morning.” Barbour laughed. “ You moan my engagement to Miss Merridew,” he said. “ Of course, that is a development!” “ And if this conversation’s going on it’s the only development we’re going to talk about,” said Mark with a grim expression. This was something which Barbour could not ignore. There was a definite challenge in the other’s eyes. “ Very well, then,” he said, “ we will talk about it.”
Then he slowly crossed the stile and stood facing his enemy. As Mark Hanson and Phillip Barbour stood facing each other by the stile on that grey November day each man knew that the meeting was going to be one of importance. Mark, who had kept his rage pent up with such difficulty during the last few days, now found difficulty in keeping it under control for even a few minutes. He felt an almost overpowering urge to seize his man and thrash him, if not to kill him. Barbour, on the other hand, was more cool, and to give him his due, felt that he was an interloper on the scene of Stone Town. True, the land was free and Jill was equally free, but there is always a sensitiveness on the part of any man with a claim to decency when ho finds himself in antagonism with another man to whom the soil on which he stands is theoretically his home. FA- this reason, if for no other, Barbour wished to avoid a quarrel. He stood awaiting Mark’s first words, ►which were slow in coming. At last Mark spoke. “ Look here, Mr Barbour.” he said. “ you have caused a good deal of trouble since you came over here.” 11 I am not aware of it,” said Phillip. “ I cannot think of anything I have done wittingly that can have given trouble to anyone. Perhaps you will be more explicit?” Mark hesitated. It was not easy fo put his complaint in so many words. Moreover, when angry Mark was not good at expressing himself. “ Well, you see,” he began rather clumsily, “ everything was peaceful here until you came, and Miss -Jill and I were running the farm quite comfortably.” “ Ah,” said Barbour, “ I rather thought she came into it somewhere. Toll me now how I have upset things t” “ You know well enough,” siad Mark. “ You’ve made love to her and have worked your way until she’s promised to marry you.” “ To me it seems a perfectly normal method of courtship,” said Barbour suavely, flicking a tuft of grass with his stick. “Circumstances alter cases,” sanl Mark. “In the first case you didn’t come here to make love to her. You came for something else.” (To be continued.;?
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD19340209.2.20
Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 21641, 9 February 1934, Page 3
Word Count
2,022JILL OF THE FIELDS Evening Star, Issue 21641, 9 February 1934, Page 3
Using This Item
Allied Press Ltd is the copyright owner for the Evening Star. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons New Zealand BY-NC-SA licence. This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of Allied Press Ltd. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.