THE CRIME AND THE CASKET.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20385, 14 October 1929, Page 18

THE CRIME AND THE CASKET.

BY JOHN IRONSIDE.

CHAPTER XVll.—(Continued). • So there were no more confidences then. They all went, back together, Jerry with J jetty hanging on one arm, Nora («;:r<;;,*r on tho other. Jessie ahead with the bo-vs.

5 They overtook Jack and Nancy, whom ► their irreverent sons hailed with.— E " Hullo, clickers!"

J'or, strolling homeward in the gracious dusk of the summer night dad had his arm unashamedly round Mom's substantial waist—or where that waist would have been if ladies owned to such a possession in these days.

< Xor did lie remove it now at the boys' v pay jibe. Why should he ? The glamour of the night was upon him and his sweetr heart—his mate these many happy years. But; for the presence of their cheerful, irrepressible brood they might ha\e been the young lovers they were that summer 5 time long ago. I Jerry, lagging behind with the little : girls, looked wistfully at the pair in ;front, heedless of the chatter of his young fcompanions, till, just as they turned into -;'foi rs I'ark Road, he caught Jessie's • name. r - Betty's lament that their " ripping ;timc" was so nearly at an end called Bi'orth a rejoinder from Norah. I " Well, anyhow you'll have Jessie down -at ' Worthing next term. That'll be ijolly!" I " What's that ?" Jerry asked sharply. 5 "Didn't Jess tell you?" said Betty. z" She's got a new job down at Worthing, ~rjuite near my school—' governess-corn-"panion to a backward young lady. Sounds lawfully dull, but it will be jolly to have her so near."

M I haven't heard a word about it. -When was it fixed up ? W hen is she sgoing?" he demanded. 5 " End of next week, I think—when ilcrm begins. She got it through Miss "Macdonald, of course."

« There was no time for more. Mr. rami Mis. Gardner were waiting at the -gate, Jessie and the boys had gone in.

He refused to do so, knowing that it would be impossible to get a private word with Jessie, and, after exchanging good-nights, crossed the road and walked onward till he came to a bench, where lie sat down to think over this discon-

turfing news. It was very dark here under the trees, lonely and melancholy, for there was no die else about. In those happy holiday weeks he had given himself up to the innocent enjoyment of the moment, keeping sad thoughts at bay, but, now they closed iri overwhelmingly ✓ Whv hadn't she told him of her plans? Could she possibly have imagined they •wouldn't interest him? That was incredible, even if she didn't know that loved her, and somehow he had thought she must know that, though tue tune f liad not come when he could tell her so. He could not let her go away like this strangers —not if she loved him, as he Relieved she did. He loved her, wanted her so sorely, could not face the prospect tit Hie without her, alone at the Manor more alone now than he had e\cr been before. . ... - He must tell her, have it out with her ■ fir. once, to-morrow. Why should he •hesitate? He carnl nothing for mere Social conventions, nor, if he knew her "aright, did she. And as for Rose, ferave, ti'3gic Rose, who would always hold her rightful place, enshrined in his ."heart and memory, had it> not been the List' and greatest wish of her generous loul that he and Jessie, the two whom she loved most, should find their happiness together? _ 2 He would hesitate no longer. Tomorrow ho would learn his fate.

$ , CHAPTER XVIII. £ FOUR WORDS. - When Jerry went' round next morning, in unwonted air of peace and quiet presided the house in Torrs Park Road.

3 Lottie told him that the master and flic voting folk had already- gone down 3o >lie Tunnel beach to bathe. The mispress and Miss Graham were upstairs, i* begri'iing to pack." "z " Ask .Miss Graham to conic down to line, for a minute, will you V he said, and Svaited in the shabby drawing room, star3iiK out at the untidy garden, till Jessie Joined him, a trim housewiiely httle ■figure in. a blue overall, with a dustingt;ap to match over her bright i Her eves met his, mutely questioning, i He caught her hands, held them closely, looking down searching at her, and fpoke rapidly, earnestly, r " JosHio—what's this Betty told rne last night ? That, you're going to some jiew job at Worthing next week 7 Is it 4.iticS • r ; " Yes." = " Wliv didn't you teil mo : - " I was going to, soon, of course, J>ut 7 only knew myself, definitely, yesterj|av " she said quickly, standing very still and erect, but making no attempt to withdraw her hands from his. ~ "Don't go there, Jessie! They qin t Svant you—nobody in the world can want !j-ou as I do. Don't you know that, my 3'The colour ebbed from her small face. Iter eves darkened as they were wont to do in nioriiei'ts of emotion, but still met hi.:, steadily. , , ~ . s "/.Yes—l think—l do," she said tremu-

Jously. . ~, :: "You love me, Jessie. . V Something seemed to rise fluttering in her throat. She could not speak, but her eyes, and that expressive littio faco ot hers' gave him his answer. " Thank God," he said softly, and drew her into his arms. . , Presently, as they sat by the window, lie. told her—as surely it was her right now to know—of the last sacred hour with Rose, how she had divined his secret—the secret that was sending birn away across the sea—and how. as one who herself had done with earthly things, she blessed them both, the two whom she most loved, find prayed always for their happiness tore! her in lime to come. . , "She told ine, too-often toward the Inst " Jessie confessed. " I don t think there ever could lie such another woman as our Rose in all the world." They were still sitting there when Nancv Gardner came in, anxiously, bne had .thought nothing of Lottie's summons for some time, Hut. when Jessie did not w.turn, she suddenly became alarmed—fearful that, " something must have happened" to one or other of her brood, end that Jerry had come to break the -"Tii* "her relief at the news she did disCover* she. promptly kissed them both, accepted the situation as altogether natuial find 1 desirable, in fact inevitable, and decided that, at, present, there wasn t the slightest necessity to say anything to Biiybody, even the youngsters —" except Jack, and I may tell him, mayn't I?" "Of course. I've no secrets of any hind from Jack," .Terry assured her. j As she said to Jack later:

it " It's sooner than T. expected, and naturally I did expect it. Anyone who wasn't blind could seo how it was with fjiin whenever he looked at her. I really wasn't sure about Jessie, she never said 6 word to me, and always seemed to treat him in as matter-of-l'act a way as if he wore Bobby—or you. But I'm very glad."

J "So am I, for his sake especially, poor chap. None but himself knows what Jiis lii'e has been, for years." She nodded emphatically.

• A widower in everything but name. That's really what it was. And such fi- dcai-j simple-minded homely creature as

A FASCINATING STORY OF, LOVE AND MYSTERY.

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lie is, so fund of kiddies and nil. They're absolutely suited to each other, and it would have been absurd—almost wicked—for Jessie to go off to another situation, a very trying one, I dare say, and let tlio poor boy live alone there, in' that great house, eating his heart out, just because people will say—as they're bound to—that he married "again with indecent haste."

" Nobody who really knows or cares for either of 'em—as we do, old girl—will say or think that, and what anybody else may say or think don't matter. Not a tinker's curse," said loyal Jack. So Miss Macdonald, one of the few who did know and care and therefore understood and approved—had to find someone else for that post at Worthing, easily enough. There is never any lack of applicants for such a job.

And Jessie went back to Golders Green with the Gardners and was a very great help to Nancy in getting the " gang" off to school agai.i, a; Nancy in turn was to her, in preparing her modest trousseau. One morning ;.i November—a mild spring-like morning, wet underfoot but, with sunshine above, she and Jerry were quietly married at the little church of St. Barnabas' and went oil in the car for a few days 'honeymoon at Worthing, where they were joined for a joyous weekend by Bobby and Betty, botli of them in a sort of seventh heaven of delight at having their beloved Jerry as a brother-in-law " for keeps." To their young minds, ii was the jolliest and most natural thing. imaginable. Not that they had forgotten poor Mrs. Hunter, who had been so sweet to them, and given them such a ripping time in the Easter holidays. They'd been awfully sony when she died—Betty had wept for a whole hour when she heard of it, and made herself an absolute little fright. But that was quite a long time ago on their reckoning. And now there was Christinas at the manor to look furwaul to. What more could tile heart of a schoolboy and schoolgirl desire '! Jt was a dreary afternoon, wet an'd foggy, when Jessie and her husband went home. They sat silent, close together in the big car, very happy, in the undemonstrative way, but wistful, as must needs be with tt;e memories that were in both their minds. As when Jerry came back with Gardner, Mrs. Linnell and Jacky were the first to greet them, running out bareheaded, in the rain. Linnell himself had been with them.

Then there was good old Jordan, who, unlike some men in his position, had always been punctiliously respectful and considerate to Jessie in the days when she was only " madam's lady-coaipanion," and who now beamed a welcome to her as his new mistress.

There were sears in her eves, as she took his hand, and said a few gracious broken words of thanks for all he had done, for her and his master. She had not been down to the manor during the few weeks of her engagement, but Jerry had told her of the changes Jordan had made, and of the kindly thought that had prompted him. The house was changed, indeed, with the rearrangements. It looked altogether different, but if anything more beautiful than ever, cheerful and homelike, with great log fires ablaze. She found her own rooms upstairs cheerful and unchanged, except that the dressingroom was now once more, as it had been years ago, arranged for Jerry, with the furniture removed from his downstairs room. In the charming boudoir—that had so roused Violet Vesey's envy—a portrait of Rose, painted in the early days of her marriage, still hung over the writing-table. She was very glad Jordan hadn't removed that! * Kneeling on the chair she gazed up at it, through tears, and the great grey eyes seemed to meet hers with a smile.

Presently she rejoined Jerry in the librarv, w'here tea was set on a small table by the fire. He was occupied with a pile of letters, for none had been forwarded during their week's absence. There were several for her also, most of them circulars, but the top four were personal. Jordan had an almost uncanny instinct for discriminating between private and advertising communications, even when the latter were sent in expensive envelopes and addressed bv hand.

They had made no secret of their approaching marriage among their few friends or the old servants, but the only intimation, to whomsoever else it might concern, was the brief announcement, that had appeared in The Times and The Morning Post. " Hero's a note from Laura Gregory." said Jerry, passing it across to her. "It was addressed to me, but it's really for us both."

Laura, it appears, was staying with friends near Melton Mowbray, and wrote with characteristic brevity and informality. " Just seen the announcement of your wedding. Good luck to you both! Shall see you soon after I get back—next week, I expect. Having a topping time here. —Yours ever, L.G." "It's very nice ' of her to write so soon," Jessie commented, and turned her attention to her own correspondence. The first three were just little " welcome homo" messages from Nancy Gardner, Margaret Macdonald, and kind Miss Watson—the doctor's sister. Tho next drew a quick exclamation of surprise from her. " Good gracious. Who do yon suppose this is from ? Mrs. Vesey, of all the people in the world!" If Jerry heard he did not heed. Ho was scanning with inward indignation, a long, vehement, and exceedingly disagreeable epistle from his sister-in-law, Maud Ryder. (To be continued daily.)