Through The Silent Night

Manawatu Times, Volume LV, Issue 6834, 15 April 1932, Page 9

Through The Silent Night

(BY WILLIAM GUIDOTT.)

__ CHAPTER Xlll.—(Continued.) The meeting in the train the eager acceptance of their hospitality, and then lhat strange meeting with Cyril Kynaston on their way back from Victoria with the bicycle. Doris had frankly, ownod lhat she had never seen the man before. Perhaps she had been a fool to believe all this so Innocently, and Doris was laughing at her all the time. Marcia did not know what to think. She must watch and wait and see what happened. She 1 wondered if she ought to go Into Doris’ room some lime when she was out, and see if she could find out anything about her amongst her things. Her whole nature shrank from such a proceeding; it was an unthinkable act towards a guest in one's own house. But was she a guest? She was a lodger, someone who merely paid to be there. Marcia’s mind wavered, she wasn't certain that it would not be permissible, and even a safer course to take. Jim Elverslon bad joined the girl at the window. Doris was talking arid laughing, but they were not looking out. Was it her imagination, and did the laughter sound a litile forced? Her mother was speaking; she pulled herself together and listened. “My dear, I’ve asked you twice. Are you going out to-night?’’ “I’m so sorry, mother; my thoughts wore hundreds of miles away. No, I don't think so. Let’s have a quiet evening at home and do nothing.” “That will bo charming,” Mrs Leighton answered. “As I said only to-day to the dear Duchess at that stupid church fete, so few people really use their homes at all, except to sleep In. She said that if every body did as much as that, tilings would be so much less complicated, and I've been wondering since just exactly what she meant.” Marcia laughed. “Knowing the lady. I 'should say her meaning was pretty clear, mother. ’’ ‘‘That’s what I thought, darling, but really people ought to be a little particular what they say when they go to open 'Church Fetes, don’t you think so? I told her she ought to set an example to us all and found a society for staying at home at night.” Marcia laughed. “You certainly got there all right, mother.” “Darling, what a dreadful expression. Is it American? Oh, Mr Elverston, are you going?” Jim came aoross and look her hand. "I’m afraid I must. I have to meet Cyril at the Club. I was just asking Miss Smith if we mightn’t call for you all pertiaps, and go off to some music hall after dinner just as we are. Cyril has been out of town, I know he won’t be dressed, but Miss Smith lias a headache and would rather not go out.” “Marcia and I would love it, wouldn’t we Marcia," Mrs Leighlon said brightly. “We were just deciding to stay in because we thought we ought to, or something! Such a dull reason. Let’s all meet somewhere. Don't bother io call for us, we'll taxi up to you.” “We might go to the Imperial,” suggetsed Marcia. "Is that where that dreadful Frenchwoman is?” Mrs Leighton asked. “Really Marcia, what, a place to suggest. 1 don’t, know what Mr Elverston will think.”

“We can go somewhere else —anywhere —if you'd rather," Jim put in quickly. “Oh no, t wasn’t, thinking of myself. After all, Marcia won’t understand half the French, and so let’s go and try and be shocked. These shocking things are usually so dull. I was brought up in Paris you know. French is sort of second nature to mo.’’ Doris was glad when Ihey had gone and she oould be alone for a. while and think. Jim had done his best to reassure her when he had come over to her. But. there was little he could say that could help her. The man was out there in the street, and even had she not recognised his clothes, it was obvious to anyone that, lie was was watching the flat. Doris remembered suddenly that he must, have seen her laughing, and she felt rather glad. Anyway, whatever they thought of her they would know that she wasn’t afraid. But then again she thought, with a little shock, that, might even stand against her. She must have lo6jra&..,aii6o}utely brazen as she stood the’rfe laughing. She fidgeted about the drawing room unable to settle down.

Suddenly she remembered that, she had-not, read lo .Ilm Blverston the. rest of her step-mother's letter. They had been interrupted by the entrance of the Jeweller and she had forgotten all about it as they left the tea shop. It ihad only contained a few short phrases more mostly couched in terms of t,he deep affection in which her step-mother had held her. But there was a reference lo money which would ...certainly have interested him. It referred to .a sum of money which had been deposited in her name in a bank, and had been left there to accumulate until she should be of age. The late Mrs Smith had never told her husband of this, fearing lest:, in some way or other, he would gel control of It. How, she did not know, ])ut, : in her timid way, explaining “he is, ao clever and unscrupulous," and Doris well understood her fears. When she had come of age her stepmother 'had hesitated to tell her, continually postponing it. Doris’s eyes had filled as she read the simple phrases saying how she feared her little girl might leave them when she found she was independent of them, and begging forgiveness if she had dope wrong, but her life was so sad. and it would be unbearable if she were left alone. She told her how, from time to time, she had written the f 'solicitors assuring them that she, Doris,' was alive and well, but refusing to give her address and details of anyi.f description, as she feared her divorced toother might, perhaps putin a' claim for her, or at least come and annoy’ ; 'them. Doris felt that her step-mother had managed it wonderfully cleverly, for if Svoitfd be no easy task, never by wortfOr.dee.d, to betray anything to her Udder whose thumb she was so cdto’ptoteiy. Presently she sat down at the piano, and let her fingers wander ai will over the keys. The music she played was Russian, exquisite, soft and expressive, with the beat of waves upon the‘beach on a still warm

Instalment 15.

summer- evening-, am a world-old love song running through it. The note of sadness ever present in Slavonic music fitted her mood, and’, as if lost In a wondrous dream, she played on, oblivious to everything. But. the grey eyes of Cyril rcynaston were ever in her dreams, faintly and persistently pursuing her. The sharp ring of the telephone bell in the hall ooming through the open door broke in on her reverie. Doris jumped nervously, and her music ended in discord. The bell rang again, she made-no attempt to answer it. For some reason or other she felt afraid, although most probably it was only one of Mrs Leighton’s many friends ringing her up. She made a movement towards the door as she heard steps coming down the hall. What a fool she had been, she thought wildly. Perhaps the police were telephoning, and if she had answered it, she could have put them off wiPi some story, and now the maid would perhaps be asked questions, and give her away unknowingly. A hundred such thoughts ran through her brain in the short spaoe it took the servant to walk to the ’phone. She listened, trembling, and agitated. “Yes, she is here,” the maid was saying: “Hold the line, please.” Doris pulled herself together and went into the hall. “Does someone want ine?” she asked in a whisper, controlling herself as well as she could. ‘-‘What is Jl?" “Only a gentleman to speak to you miss,” the maid answered, looking rattier surprised. “You don’t look well, miss. Shall I say you aro out?" “No, no, ihank you. it doesn't matter.” Doris look up the receiver, “Who is it?” An exclamation of relief escaped her. “Oh, it’s you! Mr Kynaston. Oh, I am so glad P.'s yoj —I mean—l thought it was- -what did you say?” Cyril answared that Jim had told him about the man whom she had seen outside the flat. “Are you quite sure he was a detective? It doesn’t follow, you know,” he went on. Doris gave a little laugh. “You really are rather comforting. Yes, I certainly did conclude he was. No, it may not have been the same. I don't know if he’s still there. I think not, though. Whatv Yes, I looked." “1 don't think they ought to have left you,” came the reply over the ’phone. “I wouldn't have done so. I wish I'd known.” “Known what—why?” asked Doris rather weakly. “You understand —I’m sure you understand!" There was a lingering note in his voice, a throb of passion. “Don’t you?” he persisted. Doris stammered. “I—l think you are very kind. Good-night, and thank you for ringing up.” She put her hands to tier hot cheeks, glad that the maid was not there to notice her confusion.

She went into her bedroom and resolutely got out some work, but it was getting late, an ft sha soon let it fall into her lap, and sat. there with closed eyes, for she was very tired. The day had been long and trying enough to tire even a stronger person than she. How kind Cyril had been to ring her up. .lust because he thought she might bo worrying. There was no mistaking the tone of voice nor what he had said, and Doris was 100 straightforward to ignore the, fact that he, seemed to care very much for her, even when she was only thinking and alone. She wondered with a little thrill whether she had not begun to think a little too muoh about -him, to care a little too much. He h-ad -somehow taken quite a definite place in her thoughts -and life, and she resented it instinctively. Always of a very independent nature, she felt just a. tittle embarrassed at leaning on anyone, and even in such a difficult situation as she found -herself she would not, had she been able to foresee u, have imagined herself for a moment depending on anyone, much less an acquaintance ef a few days only Men, she had learnt from her step-motjier. were to be mistrusted; there were no exceptions. This didn't seem fair now. Surely Cyril and Ills friend were honest? Could anyone, have behaved more kindly or generously than they, and Cyril,'’ she found herself saying the name softly under her breath, why, did he care so? He hardly knew her really, but- it, seemed nevertheless as if they had known each other for ages. Doris wished she had been nice to him over the 'phone; there was no need to be almost rude; she hoped she hadn’t spoken too shortly when she rang off, but- she felt embarrassed and stupid. Perhaps he noticed -her awkwardness, and took it, as a sign that she understood, or even that she was doing it -purposely. Horrid girls would, to lead a man on! Perhaps she'd better not see him again. Yes, that was the ’best way. But could she refuse if -he called? What would the Leightons think? Supposing she went herself!

Doris sat up with a little smile. She might have to go, anyway; it might be the best thing to do. It was horrible to wait here outwardly calm, when at any moment the polfoe might come for her. She went cautiously to the window and looked out. There was no one in sight. Could it have been just a coincidence that that man had bean standing outside? Certainly she had rather jumped to the conclusion that it was the -same one that had been In the tea-shop, but she hadn’t really seen what he was Ilka. Still, after all, the best thing to do would be t-o go, to move on, homeless again. The police were bound to find her Here, and she could no longer bear the suspense of waiting. She took up tl\e little dressing case and put a few things in it. A lump rose in her throat. H seemed like beginning all over again. The dressing-case, the hasty flight, and the unknown but darker future before her. Life seemed to be very difficult even when you did your best! A cab came whirring down the silent street and drew up at the entrance below. Doris could hear the voices of Marcia and Mrs Leighton laughing and saying good-night. She strained her ears to catch Cyril’s voice. (To be continued.)