THE COUNTERBALANCE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LVI, Issue 17234, 9 August 1919, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE COUNTERBALANCE.

BY PAUL TREKT. CHAPTER XIX.-(Continued.) An Geoffrey sat th,sre, he understood for the first time how Ruth regarded his act. Although he know the contents by heart he took out his father's letter and read it. Complete confidence had been placed in himself, and he had deliberately betray that confidence. Was it to be wondered that Ruth could no longer trust him? " She bad been »,he one woman he had loved-she had turned from him. And his f ;i«nt friend had done likewise. Ho had avoided thinking of Gerald, but now he found the courago to remember. The humiliation had been complete when Stat-h.-iH had treaty him with contempt. Yet l " -'"'i cared for him, and was the one man one would have thought would have n*en prepared to make every allowance. Yes. he felt (he locs of Gerald. A (tinnee at his watch. It was only half-past nine, and useless to think of poii;? to bed, for sleep would be far away. To bis surprise ho heard a car approach and pull up at the door. Was that (Jr-r.iM peaking in the hall? Geoffrey rose and stood faring the door. " Yes -I'm staying to-night." Did Gerald know that he was here? The answer came very quickly, for Statham ff-cde into the room, his hand out-Btnrt/-hcd.

■'Forgive me, old chap," he said eagerly. "You wish to take my hand?" Geoffrey BUik'd, find his voire was not quite steady. T>or!'t talk rot. Geoff. I behaved like a beastly prig. I've come to tell you I'm sorry, and wVll carry on as though this had not happened." " (If-rald. I'm clad you've come, but" '"Out with it."' 'Do von want rny friendship? Have you iv.-Ti? h«re of your own accord, or did Sir John ** "The ifuv'nor told me I'd behaved like ar- infernal fool, and T agree with him. It wasn't altogether on your account T »-as so upset. You see, I'm very fond of Ruth, and I realised what it meant to her." "lieraid. can you trust me?" Geoffrey muted gravely. " With all I've got," Statham answered i he* -'ully. "Why did yon come?" "1 couldn't rest until I saw you. You were having a bad time. And that's when one wants a friend. Well, I'm here, and at vour service as of old. We'll rhr-ga th* rooms round again. Let's do : t At. ones*. " ""Gerald, vou're a good chap." "I'm not feeling very proud of myself. Tve pone down a heap in the guv'nor's r*tivr.at:on." "i'm not so sure of that." Gerald had already started arranging the rooms as they formerly were, and did not rest nntil his task was completed. . "That's better." ha said with a grin, and started to fin his pipe"Gerald. it'* good to have you here. 1 was feeling lonely. There's only one ihi:.e—and that's work. But even that - .n't give forgotfulnessu" They talked together for & while, and TV.air was in better spirits when they went tc bed. He arrived at the works at six < 'clock, but at ten was summoned to Mr. Cnombe's office. "You will at nine. It's no use ovtrdotng it. I know vou work out at your niac*) at night. By tha by, will yon dine with me to-night?" "With pleasure, sir." "Your office will bo the one* on the richt."

"But that wae my father's room," protested Geoffrey. "I have heard from Sir John this morning. He has instructed me to give you that room. Neither of us can disobey him- He is oar boss."

"Very well. sir. But I would have preferred a humbler room."

'That would only give rise to gossip, ant! for our eakea wa don't want that. Later on a statement will be given to the press, with reference to your father's «=ta',«. In the meantime Sir John says "-0 are to keep our mouths shut. If anything gets about rumour will distort it, and it might do us harm." Geoffrey protected no more, but went to the office. From the first he found that all the staff treated him with the utmost deference and he felt uncomfortable. Of course there had been a short announcement in the papers of the postTenement of the wedding, and he imagined that the men regarded him with pity. Ha never jrrew accustomed to his" position, and looked forward to the arrival of Sir John, when matters would be placed npon a proper footing. However, he had not an iJle moment. When work wa* finished at the office he returned oight home, and after dinner went to the workshop and continued hie experiments- He had become eager tc invent things of value would be splendid if he could make & big fortune by his brains. And yet he did not want money for himself. He lived as plainly as rosaibk —was practically a teetotaller, and no longer smoked expensive cigars. lr fact, five or six pounds a week covered his expensesSoon hia> attention with that of the rest of the world was fixed on events in the I'alkans. He followed the tragedy with anxious eyes, but did not dream for an instant that it was to be brought home. Then there followed the rapid declarations of war between the Great Powers. Only England teemed to be staying her hand. During those hours pregnant with anxiety, he waited and hoped. He and Mr- Coombe were in constant communication with London by telephone. .And then camo the news. "England has declared war," Mr. Coombe announced as hh jsiaced down the receiver. i "Thank God !" Geoffrey breathed fervently, and for the first time for days he smiled. CHAPTER XX. For a few days Puth stayed quietly at the hotel. Sir John insisted upon her taking a aittingroom, and she spent most of her time in it, trying to decide what she should do with her life- She was unite younz, and the idea of becoming a medical student attracted her, but she '-rand that it would be necessary to pass a preliminary examination. Upon consisting an authority she came to the conclusion that at Least three months' close awdy would be necessary, and after a little oorjiideration decided to do it. It was while she was making these inquiries that she met EtheJ Sherborne, a girl of about her own age, who was also thinking of becoming a doctor. They met at the Women's School of Medicine, and it was Ethel who suggested that they should go west and have some tea. "We are both in the same position," Ethel remarked later —"practically alone in the world. I've two hundred r.'i'! liftv a year thank goodness for it! I in independent." "And mi am I, but I want some serious rrtcre.itt in life.' ' 'Weil, you're good looking enough— there's marriage." "'No, I shall not marry," Ruth answered v'.lh Hur:h conviction that Ethel looked si her curiously. 'I, too, have decided not to marryShall we join forces? I'm inclined to like yon." "Don't you think we'd better know a little more of one another?" "1 go by instinct. . • . Don't, you i.kc me*" Ethel Miked bluntly. "Yes. what 1 know of you." "If we're going to become doctors we've r-nt t'. put in «ix months of hard work. 1 ve the sweetest little cottage near Salisbury. Crime and live with me, and we'll Siujy together." They looked at one another, and simultaneously broke into smiles. If you pay half the expenees, we can rvv i, a small 'two-seater.' Can you run t. it?" 'Yes, I live eighteen hundred a year, 4'."U'? to sav o just as much of it as I can." Hint's your business. I shall he glad i.' you limit your expenses to a ' fiver' a veek a.id then we shall bo equal." " All right, Fir. willing." " I'm so glad. Let ue shake hands on it." Ethel's dark brown eyes brimmed over ■» iih goivl humour as she held out her hand, which Ruth pressed across the table. " That's settled. When can you start?" I 'h&i asked briskly. " >Tust as soon ap my trunks are packed." " Then we'll catch" the first fast train in th& rooming. I must go and do some rbopp-u;g Shall I see you later on?"

u Dine with roe at seven o'clock. I shall be busy writing letter ti!J then," said Ruth, and her invitation was promptly accepted. When Rath reached the hotel she went to her sittmgroom, and closing the door burst into laughter. What had possessed her to enter into this arrangement without consideration? She knew absolutely nothing of Ethel Sherborne, yet she had agreed to live with her, which would mean the closest companionship. For all she knew the girl might bean adventuress. it must bo remembered that Ruth had very little knowledge of life. After leaving school she had nearly always been with Sir James Blair, and a millionaire's life is necessarily restricted. There is no chance of meeting " Tom Dick or Harry with him. During the last years 01 Sir James life, she had met very few girls of her own. age. True, Daphne Mia Won had many friends, but Ruth had kept them at a distance. Punctually at seven o'clock Ethel arrived, and brought with her some flowers.

"My dear, you've been regretting thin-s. I can see it in your eyes. Well, I shan't keep you to your promise," Ethel said lightly. " It » not exactly regret, but we know absolutely nothing of one another. 1 may be an adventuress."' „ "9 r *'" Ethel answered with a smile. What about references? I can give vou heaps. I've all sorts of respectable relatives. Among my uncles is a bishopnot that he approver of me. And my respectable aunts think I am an abandoned girl because I won't stay with them, and insist upon doing without a chaperone." "Well, you can refer to me the bishop. I can refer to yon Sir John Statham." A knock at the door and a waiter announced a visitor—Sir John Statham. " Good evening, Ruth," said Sir John, who had followed the waiter, and then he glanced at Ethel. " Sir John, may I introduce you to Miss Sherborne. We are going to live together. Ethel, this is Sir John Statham." said Ruth.

•* Your reference. It will save a letter, ' said Ethel laughingly. " Sir John, can you answer for Miss Wynne's absolute respectability? Is she a suitable companion for a young and innocent girl?" she asked with a smile.

"What is the joke?" he asked drily. "No joke. We are very serious. And pardon me. We have met previously. It was at dinner about eighteen months ago, at Melchiston Castle, with my uncle, the bishop." " Now I remember you, Miss Sherborne. You were staying with your uncle." " I lived with him for six horrible months. Once or twice I saw you driving with rather a good-looking boy." "My son, Gerald." " Quite good-looking, but I should imagine very serious for his years,'' Ethel said with assumed -seriousness, and then turned to Rath. " Are you satisfied, my dear?"

In answer Ruth crossed over and kissed her. Then they both started to tell Sir John what they had arranged. " Women-doctors,'" he remarked with a wry face. " You'd far better marry, both of you. Ruth, I've just heard from Ironport. I must have a talk to you before you go away." " Then I'll go," said Ethel promptly. "There's plenty of time, if you are not in a hurry,' answered Sir ">hn. Ethel sat down again, took out a silver case and lighted a cigarette. " A new woman," Sir John remarked drily. " Not a bit of it, but I like smoking. If s my one pet vice. I assure you 1 don't drink.'"

" If I were a young man I shouldn't care to kiss a girl with tobacco-tainted lips," he said bluntlv"? " For one thing. Sir John, you are not young. In the second place* lam not conserving my lips for any young man. I'm a spinster-woman. The modern young man doesn't appeal to me. He is a degenerate. His one thought is for dres* and girls. I've no use for him." " And your age. Miss Sherborne?" Sir John asked suavely. _" I believe I've reached the years of discretion. At any rate I can look after myself. Now, I will go, leaving a bad impression behind. Ruth, Sir John will tell you he doesn't think me a proper sort of companion for you. Don't pay any attention to him. Be ready by nine o'clock, and I'll pick you up. Goodnight" She nodded briskly, and left them together. " Ruth, she'll do you a power of good. WJien did you meet her?" Sir John asked.

In reply, she related the events of the afternoon, and when she had finished, he laughed heartily. " When vou have- settled down, drop me a line and I'll send Gerald down to see you." " Whv?" she asked innocently. "Shes just the sort of girl I should like him to marry."

" They are the last people to be attracted by one another . . . They haven't a thing in common." " All the more reason they should be attracted. I should like to "watch them together," he said with a chuckle. But he quickly became serious. " I told you I'd just heard from Ironport. Geoffrey has quite settled down, and is doing good work." . "I'm very glad to hear it." " But his face haunts —he is suffering." '* 1 am very sorry," she answered in a low voice.

"I was delighted to bear that he and Gerald are even closer iriends. 1 feel very pleased with my son." " And I . . . Geoffrey loves him." After Sir John had gone Ruth's thoughts were engrossed by what he had told her about Geoffrey.

Yea, she knew he was suffering and must suffer. Now she had not adoubt that he loved her. And she longed to be able to comfort him.

But when her breakfast was served in the morning, it was known that England had thrown down the gauntlet and had joined hands with France, Russia and Sorvia. The elderly waiter—of Teutonic appearance— wildly excited, and his hands trembled as he waited upon her. Punctually at nine o'clock Ethel arrived, and a cab wis fetched to carry Ruth's luggage, of which she had a good deal. Then the two girls sat down in the taxicab and started for Wat-et' o.

" If only I were a man,"' Ethel said in a low voice, but her eyes flashed. "If only I were a man, she repeated. There were any soldiers on the platform, and the train- was crowded. Ethel insisted upon going into a first-class smoking carriage, and soon afterwards every seat wa* occupied by officers returning from leave to Salisbury Plain. The two girls listened to their talk, and learnt something .of the grim reality of war. One fair-faced boy had beer, snatched away from lus bride, after a honeymoon of twenty-four hours, and he was lightly chaffed. His face smiled in answer, but his eyes were very sad. They were a light-hearted lot, so cleanlooking. Men whose women-folk would be proud of them. Ethel's cottage was some miles from Salisbury, towards the Plain, and she arranged that their luggage should be taken in a van.

" Are you going to drive?" Ruth asked curiously. '* k es, and I'll take you to our conveyance.'' Ethel led the way to a garage, and the manager at once took them to the showroom ' " Isn't she a little beauty?" Ethel said, and took her scat in a two-seater. What do you say? Will you share in her? ' " Willingly," Ruth answered at once. Ethel possessed a driving licence, and it was quickly arranged that she could take the ear away. The country was looking its best, and Ruth sat back, admiring her friend's driving. "Here we are," Ethel announced, and swung along a short drive, which led to an old-fashioned cottage. "Welcome home."

There was only one servant, a sweetfaced old thing, who had been with Ethel's mother, and was evidently devoted" to her young mistress. "Lunch, Sarah, we're simply ravenous," cried Ethel, and they sat down to a simple, but daintilv served meal. From the first, It nth felt at home, and when bedtime came she kissed Ethel affectionately. She had found a restingplace. (To bo continued on Saturday next.)