CHRIS : A LOVE STORY.
EY JOHJf IRONSIDE.
SYNOPSIS. Chris Carey, a radiant girl, is wading in k secluded stream in Combo gorge, gatherfag forget-me-nots. A stranger, George liorimer, thinks he has never seen a lovelier picture. Ho ask 3 the way to the Manor, the home of Sir John Carey. Before iie can start his car again an aeroplano crashes near by and bursts into flames. Chris rushes forward find drag's the airman away from the burning machine. Lorimer —-for whom Chris has developed an intense ais]ike—informs lirr that the unconscious ma" is tho famous V.C. ncc. Captain Dick Raymorid. Chris diseases her identity—Sir John's daughter. She directs Lorimer to the Manor for help. A fully trained Y.A.D., Chris succours the injured man, who re gains consciousness before her aunt appears in charge of a rescue party, Hitherto heart free, Chris feels Btrongly drawn to Dick, who exacts a promise that he will seo her again. Lorimer finds some withered forget-me-nots in the car and carefully puts them in his pocket-book. Chris asks her invalid father who Lorimer is. and the object of his forthcoming visit. Sir John cannot toll her. Lorimer is ushered in, Chris's plan to avoid meeting him being frustrated. Ho explains _ that Lady Letiy Harden—Sir John's nioco—-has suggested that tho visit, knowing his keen interest in antiques. He <ir.es not stato his "finds" usually pass into the possession of rich Americans. As a denier in "old masters," Lorimer has heard of the Carey treasures, and esoies a picture brought homo by an ancestor from the Peninsular war. The Carey's think it ■worthless. Lorimer .feels certain he has ntunibled on a masterpiece, and Sir John, burdened with debt, io overjoyed at the rirosnect of exchanging it for two or three hundred pounds. Lorimer states ho has wi:red Lady Letty, aVid the early anounceinont of her engagement to Dick Raymond is expected. Chris quietly slips away. Dick—by now deeply in love with Chris—fells her of his past, and his hopes regarding his new invention for neeroplanes. Lady Letty breaks in upon them and carries Dick of! to a nursing home. The surgeon who accompanies her examines Sir John. He gives good hope of his recovery. CHAPTER Y. SEEN IN THE ASHES. " Gran" Berrvman stood at the gate of her cottage, gazing steadily tip the curve .of tho high road, watching and waiting for someone. A remarkable looking old woman she was, of that West of England peasant type that has something markedly Oriental about it, derived, so the learned in such matters assert, through nigh three thousand years' descent from those adventurous Phoenicians and D,mites who, in the days when King Solomon reigned in Jerusalem, sailed westward, discovered Devon and Cornwall and their rich store of copper, tin, and evon more precious minerals, founded colonies, and established u regular system of merchant trading with th'eir far-off mother countries. Fairly tall, and straight as a dart, despite her ag£, her clear cut, aquiline, deeply-tanned features, brilliant black eyes, penetrating but singularly benign in expression, level, strongly marked eyebrows, still dark, though her abundant hair was snow-white under the coloured handkerchief bound turban-wise over it, suggested also a strain of gipsy blood, as did the reputation she enjoyed. Throughout the countryside for many years, she had been esteemed a3 a "white witch," who exercised her uncanny powers for the good of her follow-creatures, man or beast, working wonderful cures with her charms and potions, and who could, when sho 1 would—which was not always—look into the future, and give wise advice to thoso in trouble or „ perplexity who sought it in what she considered "the praper sperrit." Presently, round tho high, fern-clad rock that blocked her view at the turn of the roadj a dog trotted into sight, quest--1 ing happily hither and thither, terrier fashion. Sho recognised . him as Jock; and a minuto laLv his mistress, Chris Carey appeared, walking somewhat slowly, for. her, and in deep thought, as the old woman's keen eyes did not fail instantly to notice. Jock scurried forward and jumped up with a bark of greeting—he and Gran were old and firm friends —and Chris looked round with a start and a smile. Good morning, Gran. I declare I was nearly going by without seeing you. I —l ■was thinking of something else—" " And I've been waiting and watching for ,'ee this half hour, Miss Chris." "Waiting for me!" exclaimed Chris. "But, Gran, you couldn't have known I was coming this way—l didn't know myself till a few minutes ago, when I thought I'd go back by the road instead of across the moor. I've been to the pillar-boxito post sowe letters." Gran smiled and nodded. " 'Tis true Miss Chris. I knawed 'ee ■was coming, though how I knawed I can't tell 'ee. But come 'ee in, do, fny dear. I've a message for 'ee." "A message!" cried Chris, following her into the cottago. " Oh, have you heard from Annie at last, Mrs. Berrvman V ' She knew, as everyone in the neighbourhood knew, of i the sorrow that had corne on the old woman a few years ago, when her only grandchild, Annie, then a lovely lass seventeen years old, who had been tweeny maid at Combe and well trained by Susan Bowen, had gone away "to better herself" as housemaid in a hi? house in Hampshire, and a few months later had left her situation and disappeared. The old woman shook her stately head. " Only the money—a bank note in two halves—as has come regular every month for the last year or more, and the words ' m f y love to dear Gran,' as tells me my maid be livin' and thinkin' of me. Niver a penny of it have I touched; I put 'en in the bank, fearing 'tis the price of shame, an' hopin' that somo day my maid will : come back to me, and her'll need it. then. I 'Bain't it strange Miss Chris, tho' 'tis true, that I, as can so ofton see for others, can't iver see for meself, or for them that's nearest and dearest to me? 'Ti? always so! Now do 'ee set down, mv de?>r." She gently pushed Chris into the big armchair beside the hearth, where a wood firo was smouldering, a heap of glowing embers in a mound of white ash. On the wide hearthstone was a pan of milk, set to scald gradually for clotted cream, and over this the old woman carefully spread a clean cloth, before she seated herself on a stool opposite, and, hands on knees, gazed fixedly at the girl's fair face. Chris flushed under the scrutiny. She felt that those luminous, dark eyes were searching her very soul, penetrating tho secret she would fain hide from all the world, and that sho was unwilling to acknowledge even to her own heart. Such a piteous little secret! She loved Dick Raymond: believed—nay, knew—that he loved her; and this wonderful love had come to them too late, when he ■was already bound in honour to her cousin, Letty Harden. That was the only conclusion possible aftsr the. events of yesterday, when Letty had come on the scene so unexpectedly, had literally taken possession of Dick, and aarried him off in her car. Chris had only seen him for a fewseconds, at the very last moment. When he was already installed in the chair, her aunt had called to her:— " Chris, Chris! Where are you ? Come and say goodbye to Letty and Captain Raymond." She had coma forward, outwardly quite composed, inwardly more perplexed and distressed than sho had evon been in her life before. Letty, who wan fluttering and chattering like an excited starling, had hastily kissed her on both cheeks. Dick caught her hand in his, and held it hard i while he murmured,.something incoherent, , but what she said, if anything, she really did not know. Tho whole tiling seemed l like isomo hectic dream, then and after- , wards, when slit' had to endure her mint's • conjectures and comments, continued unceasingly till bed-time. " Now Miss Chris dear, bain't 'ee going to tell me what's troubling .'ee ?.", Gran asked insinuatingly, after a brief silence that seemed longer than it really was. "Troubling me?" Chris echoed, with the least little touch of hauteur. " J don't j jftknow what you mean, Gran, We've
(COPYRIGHT.)
been very busy lately, of course, with another invalid in the house, but ho went yesterday." " Iss. I see 'im pass in tho car wi' Lady Letty. Her be quite the London madam now, wi' more red on her Cheeks and lips than Nature ever painted there!" said the old Woman dryly, " Her didn't come to see me this time, as her did when tier was at Combe last." " Why, that was years ago, before the war!" " Iss. Her came and begged and prayed mo to look th' ashes for her; and I did at last, though there's some as> I niver want to see for, and her to be one of 'em. I did see it all that night, sure 'nuff—now her'd marry Cap'n Harden, and be a widow within the month—and a sight more—" " You told her that. Why she hadn t even met him then —not till long after, and we never saw or heard anything about the wedding till it was over. It was a war wedding, arranged all in a hurry, and the poor man was killed a few days after he went back to France." " Well, I tell 'eo I did see it my dear, as Lady Letty's self can bear witness, though what else .1 see I'll niver tell to none but she. That's my way ! And now,don't 'ee think I want to pry, Miss Chris, but 'twas borne in on me that some trouble has come or be comin' to 'ec, and maybe I can see and he!p, though I won't ask 'ee no more questions, and don't 'ee tell mo nothin' unless vou'm so minded. Only de 'ee rake out the ashes and let me read 'un." She reached for a curious-shaped crook of wrought iron that hung beside the hearth and thrust it into the girl's hand. " What do you wtftit mo to do ?" asked Chris, who had often heard rumours of Gran's uncanny powers, but had never dreamt of invoking them. "Just rake out the fine ashes wi' the crook end and spread 'em over the hearth as you do fancy, my maid, and keep your mind fixed on whatever matters most to 'ee." " There are so many things that matter," Chris murmured, thinking of her father, of the picture, of George Lorimer, as well as of Dick Raymond, as she obeyed, steadying her hand with an effort, for she felt unwontedly nervous. It really was curious to see what strange shapes the feathery ashes settled into, grooves straight and curved, like bits of a pattern, with little mounds here and there. « " Bidp still now," said Gran, taking the crook from her, and extending it point downwards, towards the outspread ashes, now touching them, but moving it back and forth from right to left, as if she was reading a message, a movement so gentle and slow that not an ash stirred. Chris watched, fascinated, for what seemed like an hour, though it was only a few minutes. The ticking of the old clock in the comer, and the beating of her own heart sounded unnaturally loud in the uncanny silence. At length Gran heaved a profound sigh, replaced the crook on its nail, folded her hand on her knees, and began to speak in a hushed voice. " Fate be comin' on 'ee wi' a rush, my maid. There be so much to toll 'ee that I bo 'mazed to know how to begin!" " Did you see anything about my father?" whispered Chris. "Iss fey! But all in good time, let I tell 'ee as it do come. First there's money to the house, soon, through a man between colours, fair-spoken, but don't 'ee ever trust 'en. He be foxy —I see 'en as a red fox wi' dark eyes, and white pointed teeth!" Chris gasped. Lorimer to the life! She had thought of him as a wolf, but he was more like a fox. " You do know who I mean," Gran continued serenely. " And whatever happens, Miss Chris, don't 'ee ever forget that I warned 'ee 'bout 'en. 'Tis quite a nice bit o' money, and thero be a power more behind that should comrt to the house, but there's long delay, through knavery—black knavery. The first money brings a lucky journey for Sir John and Miss Sybil." " Oh, splendid!" cried Chris. " And for me, too, Gran, for of course I shall go with them!" " Now don't 'ee break in, my dear. It puts me out," protested Gran. " No. You be &oin' first. An' not along o' them; into a sight o' company, and into danger, too, though there's lots of pleasure, new clothes, and gay doings, and something as I can't seem to make out—fresh business' I should call 'en, for anyone as had iver been brought up to business, Miss Chris." " I often wish I had," Chris confessed truthfully. " Perhaps I'm going to learn to do something that I can earn money at; though I haven't any talents," she added wistfully. "Well it do look like it, sure 'nuff. But what it is I couldn't say, except that 'tis in a large building, and among a lot o' folk, strangers mostly. But one thing I be certain sure of, that 'tis business, and not pleasure. "There's a dark lad, good-hearted and as brave and rash as a lion, loves and thinks of 'ee night and day my maid, and that you do love," she continued, still j staring at the ashes, and not at the girl's expressive young face, flushing and paling as she listened. " But there's jealousy, and lies, and knavery all around both of 'ee so don't 'ee believe all you'm told about, him, nor half what you may see with your own eyes, Miss Chris! There be a long journey for him, across the water, and what comes of ft I can't sec now, 'tis all blurred—maybe I'll see plainer 'nother time." She paused, gazing down more intently than ever, and Chris waited breathlessly for what might come next. The clock sonorously ticked out more than one minute before Gran spoke again, and then it was in slow, hesitating accents. " There be two women—both dark. One be your bitter enemy, the other be your friend—so true as steel—but I can't—see—plain—'tis strange!" Again sho paused, then stretched out her hands and leant forward with a sudden passionate cry that startled Chris. " Lord! Lord! Do 'ee let me see plain, this once—'tis all dark!" Tho little movement stirred the surface of the ashes in little feathery whirls, and, as these settled down again, Gran drew herself upward and turned a tragic face to Chris. Her dark eyes were dimmed with tears, and there were little beads of sweat on her tanned, Wrinkled forehead. " What tis it, Gran, de&r ? You are ill!" cried Chris, rising and putting her arm round tho old woman's shoulders. " I dunno Miss Chris. All did go dark sudden like—and I can't see no more today, 'tis so sometimes. Don't 'ee be frightened dear maid, I be all right. An' do 'ee mind all I've tellcd 'ee in the time that's coming. Why, us shut out poor Jock." She rose and went to tho door where Jock, who had waited outside with exemplary patience, had now begun to scratch and whineChris was more thoughtful than before as she walked home, pondering over the extraordinary and unexpected interview. As she entered the dark old hall, her aunt came forward, evidently in a-state of great excitement. Oh, Chris, what a long time you've been! \ou ve just missed Mr, Lorimer, he waited as "long as he could. He's taken Jacob ' away in the car—and—oh, my dear, what do you think ?' IJe insisted on paying £2OO ' on account ' he called it, for he says he's certain he will get more for the picture. Of course, your father and I didn't want to take it. but he said * didn the wouldn't take the picture away' at all—so what could we do ? Isn't it wonderful ?" (To be continued daily.)
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19260106.2.141
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19218, 6 January 1926, Page 14
Word Count
2,735CHRIS : A LOVE STORY. New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19218, 6 January 1926, Page 14
Using This Item
NZME is the copyright owner for the New Zealand Herald. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons New Zealand BY-NC-SA licence . This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of NZME. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.
Acknowledgements
This newspaper was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries and NZME.