Motu Wairua.

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 29 August 1925, Page 7

Motu Wairua.

NEW READERS BEGIN HERE.

A New Zealand returned soldier, George Turner, who has been casting about, on demobilisation, for a property on which he may settle and make a home for Geraldine Connor, his fiancee, meets through her a young Englishman, Mr. Jack Chester, who owns and proposes to develop an island some 40 miles north of Auckland. Turner is offered the position of Chester's manager at a salary of £6 a week plus a share of the profits and ultimately an interest in the property, but be lias first to sign a drastic agreement which practically puts bis movements .entirely under Chester’s control. The trip to the island (Motu Wa-irua) is made on Chester’s launch the Wairua, of which Sandy McAndrew, ia> dour Scot, is engineer. While Turner is exploring the island, Chester and McAndrew run out of the harbour in the launch and head for Auckland. Tills hurried departure has followed some suspicious movements on Chester’s part behind the buildings by the wharf. Turner does a little fossicking and finds in a cave on the cliff a carefully concealed wireless plant. But to reach it he has had to enter a secret passage opening out of Chester's room, the door of which passage has been left ajar. He returns to find this shut, but there are' other evidences of liis inquisitiveness in the room, and lie hurries to get down through the bush to the frout of the wliare that lie may remove these before the boss’s return. Turner loses himself in the'bush and does not get out till next morning, when lie is terrified by the sight of the Wairua tied up again at the wharf Creeping into the living quarters Turner finds that Chester has apparently spent the night on the launch, as he is not in his room. Having effaced the evidences of his inquisitiveness, Turner is enjoying breakfast when Chester appears. The latter says that ho has aboard the launch a drunken friend whom he rescued in Auckland the previous night and must now get back to his work. Turner goes with them. While reclining on the deck of the launch he overhears a conversation below between Chester and the “drunken friend,” which confirms his suspicions, but he decides to accept Chester’s offer and sign the agreement when they get back to Auckland. Turner and Chester complete their agreement in Auckland, and Turner goes to call on his fiancee. She is out, and presently he notices her puss along the street with Chester in the latter’s motor car. In a fit of jealousy, Turner .writes to the girl accusing her of flirting with Chester. CHAPTER. X. Fov long hours during the past night, Geraldine had tossed from side to isiide of her bed. Some vague dread of impending calamity could not be driven from her subconscious mind. Perhaps that sensitiveness to the emotions of others, almost- akin to second sight, which she lin'd inherited from her Irish father, warned her all was not well with her beloved.

Who ctan xell whence come those messages, -so indefinite, so perplexing, yet. iso convincing in their augury of good or ill? A troubled, restless sleep, in the early hours of the morning, had done little to refresh her, and, heavy-eyed and despondent, she now moved a,bout her household duties.

Her mother, too, had done little to improve matters. Geraldine had foir some time realised that her mother was antagonistic towards her betrothed. Not that she openly decried him; that would have given Geraldine an opportunity to defend him with ; lie/r npt, dfevtated Irish 'hearjt. N f>, Airs. Connor's methods were much more subtle, and this morning, as on many other mornings, Geraldine had been, forced to sit, nnwa.rdjy fuming, while her mother ba.ited her as oijiy she knew how to do.

A truly good woman was. Mrs. Connor. She herself felt .she wais. Her whole life was devoted to the uplift of humanity. Such a grand goal to work for—-and besides, it' brought one so much in touch with “The” people. Of course, most of “The” ]>eop.le had heaps and heaps of money, and such a lot. of time to devote to improving the ideals of the less fortunate masses, while she. unfortunately, had ben left by her lirdippy-goshieky husband, at his untimely demise, with hardly sufficient to provide the ordinary comfort® of Life.

How she had managed., through the hard years of struggle after life death ten bdilpg up anti educate her rtftvo daughters, only she knew. A. keen business woman, she had early realised the advantages to lie gained from keeping in touch with, the best people. A little hint here.—a careLetsisly dropped reimark regarding profitable investment there. How keen she bad been never to misis ‘a. diamce, yet always be .sure the information was sound.

How she had sc rape'l and .saved so that she might always have the few neoesisaiy pounds to enable her to profit by the information which she gleaned. Now, through careful and successful speculations during the war time, she had accumulated n mi foil table little nest-egg, which, for the first time in years, enabled her to face toijiorrow, and the many to-morrows to come, without dread. One shadow only fell athwart the future. Geraldine, her fascinating daughter, was contemplating throwing herself away on a man with no really s abstain tiiall prospects. A. man without even a peirmianeut billet-, -and one who, having spent moist of his life in what she considered “the wilds,” had no influence or isocial standing with “The” people. She had agreed to their engagement —oh, yes, but things were so different then —.people were not reiaily quite responsible—carried away by a. silly wave of patriotic hero-worship, and she, yes even she, had been rather carried away by that dashing young oificer, Oa.ptiain Turner —very handsome, very courteous, and yes, a gentleman .- Of course, Geraldine .should have the souse to realise that everything was so changed now. There wad no War to stir one’s imagination and upset the

(THE ISLAND OF SPIRITS)

By H. BRERETON

Author o.f “The Luck oj Old Harry”

proper relation of things. One could see things in their .proper perspective, and .really, George Turner, out of uniform, lacking capital, or the interest of 'infiuentiiail friends to push hian, did not out half such an attractive figure as, loir instance, that charming Mat Chester, who had .shown Geraldine so much attention of late.

Now, just as matters were moving in the direction in which she felt the dear girl's true happiness Jay, and Mr. Chester has even gone so for as to confide. Iris hopes to his prospective mother-in-law, back caane the undesirable Turner, still without employment, still without a. permanent home, with absolutely no prospects of being in a position to keep her daughter m the comfort Hind social position to which she was entitled. What could she do? How make her daughter realise that in, marrying her handsome lover she was sacrificing the substance of life for the shadow. She could tell her’from her own experience. She alone knew how bitter it. had been, but well she knew that any declared opposition on her part would, merely serve to strengthen her headstrong da,lighter's devotion to this unsuitable man. No, all .she coin kl do was to use wliat wilt she had to cause these two to drift apart. A little magnifying of his defects, any little neglect on his pant. She niiuisit use these discreetly. I Yes, and there were several most suitable young men ,'men oif position. and wealth and faimilly—these, of course, she could ask to the house, and drop little titbits of gossip regarding their successes, their brilliant futures, which Geraldine would .uuconisc.iou.sily compare' with Turner’s.

Thuts, wlien breakfast found the family assembled, the usual tactics, familiar by now to Geraldine, were pursued, with only a little more irritation noticeable on. her part. “By the way, d.id I hear you say, Geraldine dear, that Mr. Turner was back in Auckland?”

“Of course, you did, mother. I told you George called here yesterday morning, and will probably be back here again to-night.” “Oh yes, dear, now I .remember, so you did. Bather strange he should rmsli away like that at once, surely. Why, ihe did not even .spare time to see me or your sister. ’'

“Mother dear, 'he intended coming back to lunch, but had l to go away with a man, Mr. Chester, in fact., to investigate a billet that Mr. Chester has offered him.”

“O'h, really, and do you think, dear, that be is quite the sort o>f man to .yqjit My. Chester. As fan employee 1 mean. 1 ’

“Why not, mother? If Mr. Chester gets him, in my opinion he ca.n consider himself a very lucky man. Men of George’s type 'are rare.” “Oh yes, perhaps, bait not very rare out here, dear. What I really meant was that Mr. Chester, not realising the eaiiddtiams out here, might consider him—er —er —perhaps a trifle rough and unpolished, though we, of course, realise that it is only that he lias lived for so long among rough men, and that of course, uiidernatli, as it were-, he is really a gentHeiraian. ’

“Mother, clear, you .sometimes .say things, unintentionally 1 know, whicili make me want to be rud’e to you, bult L won't if I can help it. I’ll just .say that personally I do not consider that either mentally, morally or physicailly is Mir. Chester worthy to black my Geoage’s boots.” “Tut, tut, dear ,don’t say silly things like that, and remember, I’ve, said nothing whatever about ‘your George,’ though I do think he might take a leaf out. of Air. Chester's book, and'get busy right away making money and everything, like he has, instead of wandering aimlessly about all oyer the country without anything definite in view. No, I am rather dir-. 1 appointed iir. Geoige, though you know I do like him very much. “Mother, deair, please don’t Jet us discuss George or Air. Chester any more. I’ve got my own opinions of both men, and 1 am going to marry the man I choose.”

‘ ‘Hear, dear, you do take one up so, Geraldine. You are iso .headstrong and impetuous. Just like, your dear father. He was always so loyal to life friend®. Uisedesis; a lot of them turned out to he, but he. would never doubt, them. Such, a loveable character he always was, dear, but never grasped the advantages lie. could have had.” Seeing the hopeless lies® of carrying on an amicable conversation with her mother in this vein, Geraldine rose from the table, leaving her half-eaten breakfast, thereafter busying herself with the many household duties that fell to lier share.

Totally unexpected was the . early telephone call from George to tell her of his return to Auckland, but though he said nothing over the ’phone regarding his prospect of securing the billet, some tone of pleasurable excitement crept .into his voice, which convinced Geraldine. that, if not already secured, the billet was within his grasp and was worth while. Thereafter, to Geraldine,' the day grew brighter ,the .sunshine .streamed in at the windows more golden, and merrily humming some old favourite air, she moved blithely about her duties. Nor was her changed de meamour lost on Airs. Connor. She, good woman, recognised in tliese signs a youthful idiocy, a. worse state of infatuation than she had heretofore suspected. Her tactics must be altered if she wa® to. prevent this daughter of heir’s making a fool of herself. She must devise some other methods to bring Geraldine to her sense®.

The afternoon was well advanced ere the fertile brain of Mrs. Connor had mapped out the . course she must pursue, and being ever a woman of action, she decided to at once set, the wheels in motion.

From tlie, sitting-room came the glorious notes of Geraldine’s rich contralto voice., breathing life and love into, her soaig. Involuntarily her mother paused as the vibrant word® drifted out to 1101' —

So long the way, so dark the day, Dear heart, before you came. It seems to me, it cannot be This world is still the same. Dark ways before would darken more, The world would change to me, Each sun would set in vain regret, If morning brought not thee. Each note, throbbing with love and passion and longing, floated out to the listener; and perchance stirred some dim memory oif dia.ys long past whon she, too., felt that throbbing urge to express in song wliiat her soul cried out., but could not utter.

A wave of love and sympathy for this warm-hearted daughter, of. heats uwept over her far a moment, but almost iiiiSlfcanibly was s-uppresisetl. hy the calculating practical mind that had come to control her during these many h laird, hard years.

No! Sentiment and romance must be quashed. It was a pity, hut there it was. One -realised -the true value of things -as one grew older. - Yes, certainly -she knew what was best for G eraidino. i

With noiiseJesiss tread she passed on to the telephone-, and, closing the. door to insure privacy, was in a moment or two in con vernation with the oliice of Chester’s (hotel.■

Being -advised that he- had just returned to> ibis rooms, -she had her call switched 011 to hits private ’phone, and talked earnestly and familiarly with him.

Had any one overheard the conversation, they would have realised that some common interest held tlieee -two, and that she was counselling him to some -action of which he doubted the wisdom, but finally, overborne by her arguments, reluctantly agreed to follow.

‘Then you’ll liav.e your car where 1 suggest, dear Mr. Chester, and bring her back to tea with you, will you-r" y Well, yes, thank you, Mrs. Connor, you know 1 feel -awfully -bally rotten about it jdon’t-you-kno-w, but probably you know best, and you do- know, de-ar Luly, don’t you, that my o-nly wish. is for your diartighte-r’is ultimate happiness;-'” “Of course, dear boy, I’ve never betrayed yoiur confidence to me. and J really do think you are the one man who oaii make lier truly happy. An revolt- till this evening, then, and may good fortune go- with you.” Passing -swiftly from ,* the telephone Mrs. Connor entered the room where Geraldine's voice wove more golden dreams for those who had ears to hear; but her mother, being a. woman of action, at once broke the chain of melody. ’ . ,

“Geraldine dearest. I’ve been feeling really very seedy this afternoon. Dr. Hildreth -sa-yis my heart ds not quite as fit -as it should be, and gave me this prescription to have made up. 1 didn’t intend to bother ‘unless I had another attack, but I do feel I need some tonic to-day. Would you go down to the chemist and have :it made up for me, dear? I know you are expecting George at any moment, but if he comes, I’ll toll-1 Ciairi.ce to -aisk him -in to wait for you. I think i’ll just lie down for half am lionr or so.” “Oh, Mother dear, Lain so sorry you a-re feeling unwell. Can I got you some brandy or anything before I go? Why didn’t yo-u tell me before that tb,e doctor thought youir heart wais affected?” • ••

“Oh, he-really i.s not sure, dear, it may he just nerves, and generally run down. Now run away dear and get that ton-io -made- up. I’ll be all right, and will have a nice rest while yo-u a-re away,”

Anxious, if passible-, to- be hack home before George -should come to see her, and agitated by the- unexpected news of her mother’s condition, Gerald-ine quickly put on hat and coat, and was soon stepping bri-skly towards that partof the oiity where the chemist who attended to -tlhe-ir iirest-riptio-ns kept bis shop. -Hardly had she left on her errand than George arrived at her home, and enquired from the ignorant Clarice the whereabouts of hiis fiancee. Little did either realise- the forces that were now afoot, which for many days to come would take the glad beam out of the ,sunshine, the -sparkle from their eyes, and would it —would it turn the 10-ve in their hearts to bitterness?

(To be continued.)