LOVE'S VICTORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 19158, 26 October 1925, Page 5

LOVE'S VICTORY.

BY EFFIE ADELAIDE ROWLANDS, j (Copyright.) CHAPTER NHL—(Continued.) Gerald Craven turned to Mrs. Northwood. " A private wire," he said. " Communications never go through the exchange on a private wire." . And then he turned to Ellen again. " What happened ?" ho asked almost breathlessly. " Well, sir," the maid answered, " evident there was something wrong, for Sirs. Greswold stood there ever so long, and she got no answer, so after a while she put down the receiver and she said to me: 'I can't understand it! I can't get through.' And then she added, as if to herself: ' Perhaps ho isn't there.' And then she sat down again, and she shut her eyes, and I could see she were fair worried." *' Didn't she try the other telephone 1" queried Craven. Ellen shook her head. " No, sir. I asked her if I should ring up for her, and she shook her head. ' It wouldn't be no use,' she said, sir. And then she said: " ' I'll have to send a telegram. I'll take it myself.' And I said, ' Won't you let me run to the village with it,. ma'am" and she answered: 'No, I shan't send it through the village post office; I'll drive to Wye bourne.' "And then she went away and she put on her outdoor things and she got the car out of the garage. I must say she's very clever with that car. There isn't no chauffeur, you know, ma'am, and tha car's in a nice state! It's covered with dust, and wants cleaning that badly! I think I'll have a go at it to-morrow." " Wyebourne," said Mrs. Northwood, she gave Gerald Craven a significant glance. The young man understood her. He guessed at once that the mistress of The Moat had no intention of letting the village know what was written in the telegram she sent. But they kept this thought to themselves. And after a little pause, Ellen j got up and said: "Well, I really must be going, ma'am. I only asked to be out for a couple of hours, and I've got a goodish way to walk back." "Oh," said Mrs. Northwood. "You need not walk back; I'll send you home in my small car. Jerry, ring that bell, please." When the car was ordered, Gerald Craven turned to his hostess. "Why shouldn't I drive Ellen back? It will do me good and she can tell mo which way to take." So Ellen Storey found herself a passenger in a pretty little two-seater and being conveyed toward the village by a "swell" driver. At her request. Craven pulled up some little distance away from the village in order to avoid suspicion. And then he turned and drove back as quickly as he. could to Mrs. Northwood. His tired air had vanished; he was fidl of eagerness. "I've been thinking," he said. "If Mrs. Greswold sent a telegram, undoubtedly it must have had something to do with the telephone being out of order. Now, what we have to do is to try to get in touch with that telegram." Mrs. Northwood nodded her head. "Yes! I wonder? ..." she paused a moment. "Of course, they know mo very well at Wyebourne. I wonder if they would let me look at the telegram, Jerry. It would be a wrong thing to ask, of course, unless I could prove that I had some right to make the request, but," she paused again and then shook her head. "I shouldn't like to arouse any sort of suspicion in the minds of the post office people. No, I can't ask to see the message." "What sort of a place is Wyebourne?" inquired Craven. "Oh, it's just another village. I wonder while she was about it, Pauline didn't drive to the Junction. "Perhaps she did," said Craven. "If only it had been an ordinary telephone, and Ellen could have remembered the number ! Then we should have been well on the track. Or if she could have overheard the conversation this morning!' "The farther we advance in this matter," said Mrs. Northwood after a little pause, "the more I am convinced that is is not only mystifying, but it has all the elements of a conspiracy." "Do you think it would be possible for you to see Pauline ?" the young man asked thoughtfully. He was smoking, and walking to and fro. "Frankly, Jerry dear, I don't want to approach Pauline. I think we should do more harm than good. Evidently she is determined not to recognise me." " But of course she knows that you live in this neighbourhood." . Mrs. Northwood said: "Well, she may remember, but you know I was abroad so much and the Mallingates have never been here. I was always hoping to have Lorna to stay with me, and I should have brought her up here at the time of her mother's marriage, but I had to be in London for a course of treatment for rheumatism; and Lorna had so many things to do—getting rid of the house and looking after things generally, that we decided that we would remain "in London. I don't suppose you had any objection to that!" she added with a faint smile. " For this gave you an opportunity of kno\ying the child." " They were happy days," said Craven in a low voice, "although Lorna did tease me a good deal, I never could make up my mind whether she really liked me at all. But now about this telegram, what do you think we could do?" "You might go to Wyebourne," Mrs. Northwood suggested. " I don't suppose there are many people sending telegrams —it is just possible you might be able to find a tracing (on the telegram forms), of the message she sent. The pencils are usually so 1 " hard in post offices and the form underneath frequently takes a very clear impression 6f what has been written.''

"What a splendid idea!" exclaimed Gerald Craven. " I'll go at oncc. That little two-seater of yours is a splendid goer. Do I pass the village to get to Wvebourne ?"

" Well, you need not go_ that way, but I think your best plan is to take tae turning to the right when you get to the, crossroads—a finger post is there and it has written, 'To Wye bourne.' " Then Mrs. Northwood took a decision. "Jerry, I'll come with you. It will do me good to have a drive in the cool, and we'll put back dinner."

"Won't the post office, bo shut ?" Mrs. Northwood looked at her wrist watch. " Oh, well, if it is, wo can go in and I can write some sort of message and ask to have it sent off first thing in the morning ; see ?" 1 So it was agreed, and the little twoseater carried them swiftly to the village of Wvebourne.

The store to which the post office was attached was still open, but the telegraph operator had gone home. Mrs. Northwood pretended to be very much annoved. " Oh, what a bother. I'll write my message, and you will ask the girl to get it soon "as possible in the morning, won't you ?' 1

The storekeeper was only too pleased to do anything in his power for Mrs, Northwood," and she and Craven went to the end of the shop where the post office was. Sure enough, on the form on which she was going "to write, Sirs. Northwood caught the signs indicative that a message had been written with a sharp pencil on the top of it. She tore off this form and gave it to Craven. And then she wrote a telegram to her dressmaker asking the woman, to make an appointment to see her on a certain day in the beginning of the next week. She left the money for this, and then she spoke to the old man behind the counter. "Please see that, the operator sends this early in the morning, won't you ?" she said. " I suppose," she added casually, "she is not kept very busy?" "It all depends," the man answered. " Sometimes there's quite a lot of grams j but now to-day there hasn't been

but two; one first thing this morning, sent by Dr. Barlow, and one sent by y lady this afternoon, I did 'cartas she lives at The Moat. She's been in hero onco or twice buying stamps and sending telegrams."

As they got into the car and drove homeward, Gerald Craven scanned the telegraph form eagerly. " Wait until wo get back," Mrs. Northwood advised. " You cannot see very clearly." "I think I can make out something if you pull up for a minute or two." He scrutinised the paper very carefully, and then he looked up and his face Was full of eagerness. "I can make out some initiate, and tjio name of a street. You look; see what* you can make of it." Mrs. North wood scanned the form very carefully.

"Some"of the words are quite clear," she said, "and others are missing, bat I think I can make out the address. Yes, it's 'Carter,' then comes *2F,', wait a bit, Jerry, I think it is ' Burleigh' word. Look here, my diar," Mrs., Northwood added quickly, " let's get home, and then we can study it more carefully. You have better let me drive—you are in such a state of nerves I think we shall probably have an accident; besides I know the way better." ...I',' It seemed an eternity to Gerald Craven before they reached the hous6 again, and he was white-faced and trembling when they were once more in Mrs. Northwood's room.

The evening was closing in, and so she lit the electric lamp on the writing table and then sat down to study the form.

She held it up against the light, but that was not very helpful, since there was no pencil, only the mark made by the pencil. "It is 'Carter' certainly," she said. "And '2F,' but 'Burleigh' is not so clear. And then I make out 'Mansions,' and underneath it looks like 'Old Kent Road.'. You look, Jerry!" Craven obeyed, and then he said:

"Yes, I think you are right. Well, that's something to go on. Can you make out what the message is ?" « "The first word is 'Please-' .The next two or three words are not very legible. Then comes a name —is that a'P' !" "I think so," said Gerald Craven. "And I think that's an 'x,'. and then I believe it is 'ton.' Might be 'Paxton.. Now —this is very clear, 'something wrong with wire.' Then there's something missing here, and 'tell hinrhe must come down to-morrow.' That's clear, isn't it?" ' "Very clear," said Gerald Graven. 1 make those threo words *arn much worried,' and that word is clear enough signed 'Pauline'." ... . . Mrs. Northwood sat "Back in her chair and looked at Craven. "Well now, what do you suggest. Lorna's lover looked at her and ho smiled. "I know you won't be cross with me if I tell you I want to go back to London right away." "I'm not cross with you, oi course not, my dear," Bertha Northwood said, "but I would like you to have some rest, and you must have some food." Gerald Craven laughed. "Rest!' he said. "Why, I feel strung up to do anything. The mere suggestion, that we might be getting in touch with Lorna is more to me than sleep or food, but I will have some dinner," he added quickly, "and then I can sleep in the train. ' Isn't there an express London somewhere about midnight I"

"No, not an express," said Mrs. Northwood, 11 but it's not a bad train; it gets vou up somewhere between six and seven o'clock in-the morning. I hate to let you go," she added, " but I know you will never be satisfied to stay down here. Besides this is really a clue! If our-iheoiy that Pauline is associated with ner sister s and her mother's disappearance, then we are justified in believing that this will lead us to some direct information. I won't change for dinner, because I will drive with you to the Junction. Gerald Craven pleaded with ner not to stay up so late, , ~ ''You know you are wearing yourself out " he said. "I am s'uro Lorn a and Mrs. Emerson would not like you to do But Bertha Northwood was obstinate. To her it was almost pathetic to watch Gerald Craven's hopes seem to expand and crow visibly. The mere suggestion that he might before long be m touch again with the girl he loved was enough to fill him with-new spirit and put courage into his heart. CHAPTER XIV. After leaving Julian Emerson in ths garden, Lorna went upstairs. _ She found her mother awake and fairly cheerful. She told Lorna that she had had a delicious cup of tea and tell so much refreshed. , , The "irl sat beside her and- ion died ht.i hand, and Mrs. Emerson bent forward and kissed her daughter. "You know, Lorna," she said, I really must get up, but the funny part of it is that though I am'no longer sleepy, I feel b tired, so weak." "It is the shock, darling," Lorna said. "You know you have had a great shocK. Mrs. Emerson's lips trembled and tears started to her eyes. "Yes, I did have a terrible shocK. Though I know Henry did it for the best, I must confess I do feel, as I have already said to vou, darling, that he really ought to have spoken to mo before he went away so suddenly I It was very stiange, wasn't it?" "You must really believe that he aid it for the best, mother dearest, Lorna said. "And I think you must nou try to get up too soon. You know vou are not the strongest person in the world, and you are very comfortable here; tne room is so fresh and cool, isn't it

"It is all very nice," Mrs- Emerson answered a trifle wearily, but Ige impressed against myself. I suppose that is natural. We were so happy, perhaps we were too happy, Lorna! She began to cry now,' and Lorna had great difficulty in consoling her,; and bringing her back to a more, cheerful name hit on the idea of suggesting that her mother should write a letter to hei husband, and this at once encouraged Mrs. Emerson to put aside her anxiety. "Of course, ho will be expecting a letter from me," she said. "Give me a pencil, and I suppose you can find some writing pc per. , Where are we Lorna. This seems a very nice house, buu X don fc know whether we ought to have come here my dear. Don't you think—l mean wouldn't it have been better jit ne nad gone to London, and been somewhere near Henry Poor' Lorna felt her heart begin to beat verv quickly. , . ""Well, you see, darling, we are working in with stepfather's wishes. He wants us to do everything that Dr. Emerson considers best for ns, and as he is —Lorna caught her breath a little sharply here—"as he is stepfather's nephew." "Henry's nephew!" repeated Mrs. Emerson, and her pretty eyes opened a little widely. She was silent awhile, and then she said: "I—l didn't know that Henry had any relatives left. lam quite sure when we were talking together only a little while ago he was saying how wonderful it was to have you—a young creature —now belonging to him, because all his life he had been so lonely! And then I said to him, Lorna"—Mrs. Emerson was sitting up in bed now, and she was speaking quite excitedly—"and I said to him, Lorna, what I often thought when he was lodging with us—that it was a strange thing he had never married,' _ Lorna sat down and took her mother 3 delicate band in, hers; it was trembling and very hot. . „ "Now don't get excited, darling heart. But Mrs. Emerson shook her head. _ "I am not excited, Lorna. lam going to tell'you something Henry said to mo soon after I was his wife. He said years ago he did marry! And t-nen he said: 'I am not going to talk about those old davs to vou, Mary, because I want to iorget everything that was very sad and troubled | only realise, my dear, that my marriage was a great mistake, and believe that I never knew how wonderful, how happy a man could be until 1 met you and made you my wife!" i (To be continued daily.)