THE MAN SHE NEVER MARRIED.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18565, 24 November 1923, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE MAN SHE NEVER MARRIED.

BY CORALIE STANTON AND HEATH HOSKEN. Author* of "Three Men Who Came Back," "Sword and Plough," "The r Beaten Track," Eta, Eto.

(Copyright.)

CHAPTER XlH.—(Continued).

Almost as soon as Tony had asked the question he wished he could have throttled the words in his throat. What madness!

But Dolly took the question as a matter Ok course. She sat on the edge of a fiuge chintz-covered armchair and said, much as she might have discussed the character in a novel or the actor in a play: "Of course I cared for him. Of course I was fond of him."

" But were you in love with him? " he persisted, now Jed on and swept up by some whirlwind beyond- his control. " Perhaps I was," she answered frankly. "I* really don't know. It is so difficult to say. It seems to me so long ago now—years and years ago." " Only two months ago." " I know. It is strange and inexplicable. So many things have happened since then oh, so many things. You don't understand." She walked over to the window and looked out on the pleasant vista, with her back to him, looking dreamily into the past and the future, seemingly unconscious of the very pregnant present. " You may think it very brutal of me, Tony " —-she had adopted his Christian name quite naturally—"you may think it very brutal of me; but I wish now that I had never met him. I cannoti explain it. It is impassible to explain. Of course, I am sorry for whatever has happened to him, and I hope and pray that no harm has come to him and poor old Jack will turn up safe and sound again. Indeed I do. Stillstill, well, I don't think I should ever marry him whatever happened. Things have changed. I have changed. I—l, and [ am, the only thing that matters as far, as that sort of thing is concerned—l am I— can't explain—l am frightened. lam afraid." "Afraid? Afraid of what, mv dear'!"'

"Of myself, I think. Oh, I know you will only laugh at me as you always do; but I am very uyset .about everything. lam so much alone. Nobody understands, no one—except, perhaps you. Mother is perfectly horrid. And father—what can lie understand? And then there is that, man, Stanford. 1 ran see it 11. They are bent upon making me marry him. They were planning and plotting it long, long before I ever met Jack; and now I can see them working and plotting and planning to the same end. I feel like a rat in a trap. lam afraid.® I tell you, Tony--" She swung round and faced him, and he sawthat, she was crying, "I think I would kill myself rather than marry him." Oh, please, do forgive me for talking like this : but somehow or other I simply had to come to you. "From the first time I ever c,aw you—you know when you came down to Holt.inge to be Jack's 'best man'— felt that you were a real, true, good friend." Then Tony forgot everything—forgot Jack, forgot, caution, convention, and the fact that the girl was here alone and unprotected in his house. It was all over *ind done with in a flash of time. It was the most sudden and unconventional wooing that could possibly be imagined. "Dolly,'' he said, "I love you." He ought her in his arms and held her close—very close. He kissed her brow, her •.losed eyes, her lips. Slip did not resist. She merely gave a little startled cry ;.nd nestled closer to him, just as if this tiling had been ordained from the beginning of time. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he kept repeating. "Do you think I can ever make you love me?"

"I think I do." sht panted, stifled by his strong embrace. "I think I always have."

"You darling." "Oh, my dear, 'my dear," she commenced to cry, and he dried her tears and kissed her again and again. "Will you marry my quickly?" she said. ''Please do Tony—soon, at once, before anything happens." "We ill be married at once," he said gaily. "Just a/? soon as it can be arranged. We will go off this instant and announce the fact to mother and father."

And then, just at this most, inopportune moment, Baldistone entered the room, bearing a silver salver on which reposed a telegram. Fortunately for Baldistone's dignity and the respect he was to shew} them in the future, they were not at the precise moment locked in each other's arms. To all intents and purposes they appeared to be carrying on a perfectly ordinary conversation. Everything was normal. "A telegram for you, sir,'' said Baldistone in sepulchral tones and, when Tony took it from the tray, departed. Tony flung the orange envelope on the table. "Hang telegrams and everything else," he said. . "Oh, please open it, Tony," said Dolly. "I can never resist opening a letter, far less a telegram. It might be most frightfully important." • Tony iaughed and absently tore open the envelope and extracted the flimsy

form. There was a long silence. She watched him, smiling impishly, all unconscious of what that profound silence mea,;'. and was to mean. Then gradually the smile died. She saw that something was wrong. "What is it, Tony " she asked with a little catch in " her voice. "Is it bad news?" "No, no," he said, hurriedly crushing the flimsy telegram form into his pocket. "Nothing of importance. Only business. But, my dear, I'm afraid I eliall have to turn you out. I must do some telephoning at once.' "Why, of course, Tony. I know I m horribly in the way. But I thought you were coming back with me." She looked woefully disappointed. Somehow op other a dark shadow had suddenly come between them. , "Til come round later," he said, still speaking in that strange, far away voice. "I'll come round' as soon as I possibly can." Then he took her in his arms again and kissed her. "My own dear little love," -he said. "Good-bye—■" "Not good-bve — mustn't say thai." "Of course not," he laughed. Vvhen he had seen her into a taxi-cab, he returned to the breakfast room, took the telegram from his pocket and read , it and re-read it. "'Good heavens!" he said, "what on earth does it mean?" What he read was. "Tn great danger : stop _ all legal action: will communicate again soon as possible; don't tell Dolly.— Honest." So Jack was alive. At any rate thab appeared certain. . The telegram had been sent from Etaples-sur-Mer. What 011 earth was Jack doing at; Etaples. that picturesoue little fishing port at the estuary of the Canche, a few miles south of Boulogne? Etanles of all' places on the face of the plobe! And then the vision of Dolly rose before him and he ground his fingers into the palms of his hands and crushed down th«» : '.rnoble thought that had reare-d its unholy head for a brief instant. Was he sorrv that Jack lived.' "Never, a thousand times 110. He smiled bravelv. went to . the telephone, and rang up Mr. Velvet.

CHAPTER XIV. When Dolly reached Signet Walk the first nerson "she encountered woe hrtbeautiful mother, who appeared agitated " My dear Dolly, where 011 earth have you been? " she cried. "We have been looking everywhere for you. I bad 110 idea that you had pone o-.-t. You really shouldn't rush off like this wltiiout a word to a soul." " But mums I've only been away a few minutes." Nearly two hours," mother corrected with unusual severity. Two hours! It seemed to Dolly but a minute or two. I'm sorry,'" she said, and then she. perceived that mother '.vns really distressed. Something had happened.

" Where have yon been?" asked mother. ' ' Dolly -was tempted for a moment to prevaricate but only for a moment. 1 ye been to see Mr. Rawson," she said <1U " 6 Whatever for? Mr. Eawson? What did you want to see Mr. Rawson about. " Oh, never mind, mother dear. But 1 think I ought to tell you that I am engaged to Tony." She was quite brazen about it. "He is coming to see you and daddy later on." "Tonywho's Tony?" gasped Mrs. Champneys. " Tony is short for Anthony," answered Dolly, " and Anthony is the Christian name of Mr. Rawson. Please forgive me, darling. It was all very sudden. And I'm frightfully happy. Don't say a word more now. I want to be alone for a few minutes and think matters over. It has all been so very sudden." .... " Sudden! I should think it has been sudden," exclaimed Mrs. Champneys in breathless astonishment. "My dear mad child, what will your father say." "I really don't think daddy will say anything much. He likes Tony and Tony likes him—and you." she added. He thinks no end of you, mums, and I don t wonder at it. There now, please say you forgive me " " I never heard such nonsense in my life," Mrs. Champneys exclaimed. "Why, we hardly know the man." "Well. I know him quite well." said Dolly, with a smug little smile that exasperated her mother even " And you needn't be afraid that he isn't in a position to marry me. He's most awfully rich and has a simply wonderful old house in Queen Anne's Gate, full of the most lovely things. But I shouldn't care tuppence if be were as poor as a church mouse, like poor Jack." "Poor .Tack ! " sniffed Mrs. Champneys. " You seem to lose precious little time in changing your mind,."

At this Do'iiy flushed and bit her lip. It. was rather mean of mother, that. Nevertheless, she was not c;oing to artrue about it now. She trusted her impulse. She knew herself. "I am I." she said to herself. " Who else matters? " She knew row that she never did love .Tack, not really love him as she loved Tony. She had not known. She had believed that her love for Jack had been the real thing. But now she knew that it was not. She really knew, or at any rate awakened dimly to the realisation, the very moment, she first met Tony. Tony had been in her thoughts ever since then. The revelation of what he meant to her had come slowly but surely. And now she knew. There was no shadow of a doubt about it. Tony was her man.

If Jack were to come back now, as she felt sure lint he would sooner or later, she would boldly tell him the truth, and she felt somehow that he, , too, would understand and forgive her. Perhaps in time he, too, would discover the real thing and would be transcendentallv hapov. Poor Jack ! She would always be fond of him alive or dead. He would ever fill a hie niche in the temple of her memories. But Tonv

Diana Chamnnevs sank into a chair and stared incredulously at her extraordinarily impetuous daughter. Several times she made as if to sneak her thoughts, but she seemed incapable of saying anything coherent. The situation bad taken her so completely by surprise. It had unset all previous plans and calculation. Then she suddenly remembered the thing which Dolly's startling announcement had driven from her mind.

" Oh dear," she exclaimed, " what can I be thinking about? Your sudden turning up with this extraordinary announcement has taken everything out of my head. I have very bad news for you." Dolly caught her breath. "Had news?'' " Yes, poor Brian Stanford has been taken very seriously ill last, niqht. They don't expect him to live out the day."

"I'm sorrv," said Dolly, somewhat- perfunctorilv, it must be admitted ; but, of course, she was genuinely sorry for a voung man. however nnpleasinjr be might be to her. who was thus struck down in the heyday of youth. " What's the matter with him? " " A sudden collapse, I understanr —the heart I believe. No one seems to know. But they have sent for you." T,, ~ il "For mo? Wbst on earth can i do. "My dear Dolly, please do not be so utterlv * Who knows—you may possibly be able to save his Tife. At n,ny rate, you can make his last moments happv.' ' " Mv dear mother, what are you sayine? Have you taken leave of your senses? What can I possibly do? "

" The message came almost immediately after vou left the breakfast table, and we have been looking for you high and low ever since. It is now nearly twelve o'clock. Poor Brian is in A Nursing Home in Welbeck Street—number four hundred and fifty. Thev took him straight there from his club. Sir Luke and .Lady Stanford were wired for, and got up to town in the early hours this morning. I have been talking to poor dear Lady Stanford on the telephone. You can imagine the state of mind she is in her only son, too. And she Sir Luke is nearly crazv with anxiety. " Yes", yes," interrupted Dolly a little irritably; "I can quite understand that. But- what hes it got to do witA me? "

" If you'd only listen a moment without interrupting I will tell you. He is now quite consciousßrian I mean— he has asked particularly to see you. He insists on seeing you " M , • "I am not going to see him, said Dolly very firmly. "What madness! What good can I do? " " The doctors," Mrs. Champneys went on unheeding, " say that it might do a. lot of good if you went round at once. But no time must be lost. Both daddy and I have spoken to Lady Stanford and to Mr. Helton .Tenner, the great heart specialist, you know. They sent a car round for you. It waited here for more than an hour. But of course, no one could find you. Oh, it has been most distressing. My dear Dolly, you must come round with me at once. There is not a moment to be lost. You cannot possibly refuse when perhaps his very life depend upon it. And, even if bis life is not at s-take, vou cannot be so heartless and inhuman'as to refuse whatever comfort it is in your power to give to a dving man. Put like that' Dolly felt that perhans her mother was right. After 11, if the poor creature was 011 the threshold of Eternity— " All right," she said brusquely, " I'll go. Of course, I'll go. Forgive me, mums, I didn't mean to be a brute." " They said something about his having something very important to tell you, which he couldn't tell to anyone else. I am so upset and distraught that I really didn't understand what it, all meant. All I know is that they have been expecting vou round at the nursing home ever since half past nine this morning. He may be dead by this time."

" Well, come along then," said Dolly. " Let us go at once. Get your hat on and I'll tell Jones to ring up a taxi." A few minutes later, Mrs. Champneys and her daughter were at the nursing home in Welbeck Street. \

An amiable matron in ufiiform received them in a 'spacious and well furnished waiting room out of which opened a large conservatory ablaze with flowers. Roses were everywhere in I.owls and vases around and about the room. The place did not look like a nursing home. There was nothing to suggest illness or death. " He is just the same, a little easier perhaps," said the matron quite cheerily. " I'm glad you've come. He lias been constantly asking for you. Sir Luke and Lady Stanford have only just left. They will be back in about an hour. The sister is with him now. I will just run up and ?ee if everything is all right. Do sit down. What lovely weather we are having." "Is itis it very serious?" asked Dolly, who was feeling very nervous. The cheery matron became suddenly grave. She shook her head slowly. "I'm afraid tlu.re is no hope," she said. " They have had three specialists. The consultation was at ten this morning. Mr. Jenncr has only just left him. The end may come at any moment." Oh. poor Brian," murmured Mrs. Champneys and fought back her tears. Then th? matron smiled again reassuringly as if to say: Don't be alarmed. It is nothing to worry about. Life, death, disease — are ail in a day s march. And tripped off gaily with: "I won't keep you a moment." i (To be continued 011 Moudav next.)