FLOWER OF THE BOG.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19503, 6 December 1926, Page 18

FLOWER OF THE BOG.

CHAPTER XI. " Cstfi ye sco Miss Patsy, is t. lroth, re cati, sir, with a heart and a half. She's in the back room givm ou the garden, and ye'll have it quiet to yer.selves, for her father and Mr. Boy o have cone to town to ordhera wheel-chair to lake her ridin' in, and I've new hunted Con Hartigau. He do be here the whole time with a pup he's rearm' for her, and 1 hunt him regular when I think lies tirin' her. Walk straight in, sir Im busy bakin', .and me hands are full of flour, or I'd turn the door-handle for ye. '• How is she, Mary: \ shako of the head and a pursing 01 the lips answered him. He opened the door,' and Patsy glanced round and lius hed deliberately and shyly Her Inir liunc over her shoulders in two long braids tied with lavender ribbons, and she wore » white dressing-gown, and was so •mncalin (f lY bashful and schooi-girlwh that Alan couldn't lift his ravished eyes ° ff " You won't mind my intruding ? ho said carrying a chair to her couc s tt 'ng forward, elbows on knees, to smilo at her. " I got tired waiting for an invitation, and just came. ~ "1 didn't'know you wanted to come she said below her breath. 1 pondered why you kept away. " I've been every day to inquire. "Not since they brought me downSt " You were besieged with callers, and I sent Aunt Susan, not being sure aow you'd receive me. Im a splendid « >•» wouldn't have r, paid me good for evil. Sho looked up, ]ier face serious. " I must thank jou. I've been longing to thank you, and and somehow I don't know what to say. " Then we'll shake hands and omit the thanks. Shall we? I'd rather have that than the most eloquent oi speeches." . Patsy flushed again, a burning crimson this time. "You won't care to once I ve told you something I can't keep on my conscience, her head hanging. " It's about the gap you wero always filling. Who do yoa suppose pulled the bushes out every time you packed them in ? " Who but Con Hartigan? "It wasn't. It was I." "You? By Jove!" She nodded, a picture of convicted and

shamed guilt. ... " I rose before daylight to do it for spite—to vex you. I never got any telltale scratches, because you don t know how to stack thorn bushes. They ought to be tight as tight, and yours were loose. I'd have made a better job of it tossing them in with a pitchfork." Alan burst into a ringing laugh. I'm jolly glad they weren't tight as tight, or they'd have hurt the little hands I'm waiting to hold." " You mean it?" she gasped. " You really wish to be friends, after that—that badnessi of mine ?" " With 5 my eyes open, and fully realising the blood-curdling horror of the foul deed. Ido wish it." " You are poking fun at me," her lips quivering. " Only at your distressing yourself over such a trifle, a mere jest Ave are going to laugh at together." Patsy drew a deep breath, and laid both her hands, in his. " I'm sorry to the heart's core of me," she sighed. " You aren't to be a bit sorry." "I want to be. I feel better about things I've done wrong when I'm sorry." The soft earnest voice, the misty eyes of her, filled him with a warm glow of tenderness. " I'm beginning to understand you," he said, folding the fluttering hands between his palms. " And I believe you're getting' to know that Alan Pettigrow isn't tike stiff-neck he may seem. -It's just his unfortunate manner." " I didn't think you a stiff-neck, indeed," she protested. " I can't explain to-day why I behaved nastily to you. Perhaps I won't ever explain it—it was so silly and childish. But if you'll overlook everything I've said and done, and start from to-day as though wo were strangers newly introduced, I'd be a lot different, truly I -tfouid. Will you, Mr. Pettigrew?" "On condition that you aren't too different, for then you'd be another girl, and I'd prefer the old one with alterations." " What are they? Tell me, so I'll learn," she cried eagerly. In her excitement he noticed that Patsy straightened her back, quite unawares, and his. pulses raced. ' " You might try to like me, for instance." " That's easy. I don't have to try." _ "If you aren't, very careful I'll kiss you and spoil the whole beautiful dream," he said to himself. Releasing her hands, he laid them on her lap and patted them. " You needn't learn anything more. Given the liking, I wouldn't have you changed an atom. Go on being yourself and you'll make me as happy as a sandboy," Her face shone radiantly. " And you're sure you aren't annoyed about the gap?" J ' " Open your little mouth to say 'gap' again and I'll raise a scandalous row. Annoyed! I guess not. I'll get Nally to build a stone stile in that hole, and when you are able to run out maybe you'll come and sit on it, and talk to me. Ripping idea, isn't it ? And you could use the stile as a short cut to Grange." The brightness of Patsy's face was suddenly eclipsed. A nervous tremor contracted the smiling mouth. " Haven't they told you I can't walk?" ®he whispered. " Why can't you ?" " Doctor O'Dea said my spine was injured, and I couldn't. Father and Mary said it, thinking I was asleep, but I was awake, listening. And of course I had to be told when I was fit to move down here. I've fretted dreadfully. The specialist de clared it was all bosh, and I could walk as well as anybody if I'd use my will power, and not be frightened. O'Dea con tradicted him. I trust O'Dea. Ho wouldn't lie to us." " Shouldn't you trust the advice of a man at the top of his profession before you'd trust O'Dea's?" " Should I?" her glance wandering, puzzled. " A sensible person would. Your spine is as right as a trivet. I saw you straighten it a couple of minutes ago when you forgot you couldn't. Honest, I saw you. It's your will-power that's paralysed. You got a, shock and a scare, and your nerves took the upper hand of you. Don't let them. They're good servants but bad masters. You" must conquer them or they'll conquer you. A spunky girl would say ' I can' instead of I can't,' and have the laugh on the bossing servants." Patsy stared widely at him. Learned discourse on the subject would have bewildered her, but Alan's casual way of speaking interested—his smiling way of treating the haunting bogey as if it were the flimsiest of pretences. " You'd grow out of your absurd notion with a return to your usual health," he declared, " only it would take time, and summer doesn't wait. There's the sun shining and calling you, the birds railing, road and field and bog missing you, every living creature trotting around on two legs or four, and you lying here. Ppon my word I think you're just lazy." I am not," she said indignantly. "If you aren't lazy you're cowardly." Jjtsy's teeth caught her lip and bit __ your spunk ? You fought me ' sorOfl.'f'V Stoutly. Haven't you a scrap of fight left? You—a D'Arcy." teeth held 2 their S gnp! e ° US ' pursued!* - f y° c "elf?" he

, IRISH LOVE STORY). (COPI'MGIIT.)

BY MADGE BARLOWfc

tried to rise, and failed because your mind was saying ' I can't.' You don't believo in your own power, a.id the mind ruled the body. They're buving you an invalid chair, aren't they ? You'd be giving Jarnsie Brannan joy rides in that chair by the week-end if you wanted to with your whole heart and soul. It's the truth. Look at me. I'll make you believe.' Some magnetic force in him was impressing itself upon her. With, heading bosom and parted lips, her eyes fixed on his, she seemed to drink it in and gather strength. " You believo that I can ? ? " I'd stake my lifo on my belief.'' " Then I'll believe." " Right now ? This instant ?" " Yes." Her voice did not falter. Ho lifted her by the hands. " Come! On your feet. On your feet, . . Patsy. " If you'll keep looking at me so. - " I will." " Don't quit for a moment." "Not for a moment. Now!" A a shiver, and he drew her upward, his face pale and tenso, hers rapt as a pilgrim's at a healing shrine. " Oh! ' sho panted, " I've done it, I got up my own self, almost." " Entirely your own self, you plucky girl!" " No, no. I couldn't have stirred without you." " How do you feel, Patsy?" " Rather wobbly, and afraid of falling." " You won't fall while I am holding you. Rest a minute and we'll attempt another stunt. I'll move to the wall, and you'll walk the four or five paces to me, unaided. Why, you've simply great. I knew you would be. You afraid!" " But the wall's fh far piece away," dubiously. "It isn't. Those nerves are working a last bluff on you. Show them you're taking no orders from anyone but me. Teach them what's what. Double your fists and at 'em. You and I together are strong as an army with banners." A proud Patsy managed the four or five paces, and they leant against the wall, laughing, his arm supporting her, her cheeks pink, her eyes starry. " I've been a poor-spirited idiot, and I'd 'be one still only for you," she said. " If you hadn't come to-day I'd have lain thinking till I was more and more wretched." " Wretched on account of your weakness?" " Partly, and—and because of my past wickednesses—things I said —on the Hill," growing confused and stammering under his scrutiny, but meeting it bravely, not knowing how she was tempting him to utter words ho felt he must not in honour utter while she was all gratitude and penitenco, " wax for his moulding." " I wish you wouldn't dwell on those things," he said, his eyes caressing her sweetly-troubled face. " They are wiped off the slate, and we are fast friends. A dash of hatred to start with cements the after-friendship." " I didn't hate you. I said what wasn't true." He looked away from her lest ho should lose his grip and act rashly, to his own undoing. " It's dear of jj'ou to 'fess your sins," he said unsteadily. " Your father confessor gives you full absolution and commands you to forget them instantly." " I'll do anything you tell me," she replied, and he felt his good resolutions rock on the verge of collapse. "Anything?" trying to. speak lightly. " Even another experiment ? That'll finish us for one day, and you shall sit in the garden when you've done your lessons, as a reward." He went to the middle of the floor, his back to the room door, which was ajar. Like a child playing a delightful game Patsy, with head aslant, criticised his pose, and suggested a little less woodenness, for his stern effort at self-discipline was re-, fleeted in his tense expression. Then she came to him, seeming to his swimming gazt> to float across the carpet, a vision in white, with flaming hair and face pure as a pearl, and eyes of peat-smoke grey when the sun shone through it, eyes which drew the heart out of a man's breast and left him at her mercy. She did not see a watcher peering round the crack of the door—-a malevolent spy. She saw only. Alan; and * a tricky hassock lying in wait in her path tripped her. He sprang forward and caught her in his arms. It was all up with him. He couldn't have helped kissing her had death been the penalty. He didn't want to help it. He had no use for cold wisdom. His lips were crushed to Patsy's, the scent of her hair in his nostrils, love's delicious madness coursing through his veins, And instead of repelling him, Patsy nestled in his arms, a willing captive, thrilling to his kisses./ " You care for me?" he said incredulously. "You care?" Her answer was incoherent, but love is the swiftest of interpreters. "How much ?" lie asked. " Whisper it, you dear. Eh ? ' A hundred thousand millions ? ' That. much! Oh, I'm surely crazy. And since when, darling ? Tell me." She tried to hide her face. " Come," he said coaxingly. " You'll I tell Alan." " Since —since—" "Go on. You're doing fine." He leant his cheeks to hers to catch the low reply. " Since the very beginning." " The day we met at Mrs. Hartigan's tennis tea?" " Before it. The day I first saw you standing in the gap." "Patsy," he cried ecstatically, " you're the enchanting riddle of the universe " On the other side of the door Stella Marquis listened and watched in a fever of rage. She had entered the house without knocking, and finding nobody about had gone .along the hall to Patsy's restroom. Hearing voices there she had drawn back, holding the door-knob, holding her breath, glaring at the girl with eyes of hate. To her, Patsy's artlessnes3 was the acme of cunning. The girl was a cunning malingerer, shamming to lure Alan on—that pretty simplicity of hers nothing but a practised lure, as her former hauteur had been. How clever of Patsy? The innocent babyish wiles wore as well done as the stiffness and the scorn. Stella clenched her hands so fiercely that her gloves split. A softfaced rustic cheat to succeed where she had failed. Never, never! The tripping hassock and the climax it precipitated wrung a moan from her; the love scene drove her frantic. If looks could kill, Patsy would have had short shrift. Quivering in every limb, Stella tiptoed out, warned by a distant clatter of dishes that Mary Brannan might appear at any moment. Running down the front path she fled as if hounds were pursuing her, feeling glad the road leading to the village was deserted. Nobody must know she had been inside Bog House that day. An hour later an elated Alan was saymg to Miss Pettigrew: " Congratulate me, Auntie Sue. Patsy has learnt her steps, and, to use "a Yankeeism, your cake is dough. She does love me. Hooray!" „ " I haven't a doubt sho has learnt her steps," said Aunt Susan, much flustered, " but the loving calls for evidence." "My face is evidence. Is this the face of a disgruntled suitor? You wait till you hear—" And ho described in detail what had occurred. " They are fairly elevated to the seventh heaven over the way," he concluded. " You should see the capers of Mary Brannan. D'Arcy and Boyle are more restrained, but hardly able to contain themselves. Boyle stared at me queerly, though. -1 wonder whether be thought I'd stolen a march on him, and can't imagine how he could. Patsy and I were models of propriety. We have agreed to keep our secret dark while the prospect of winning her father round is hazy. He's Nick's ally, so we've got to proceed cannily and watch our p's and q's." (To be continued daily.)