A CHANGE AND A CHANCE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20922, 11 July 1931, Page 13 (Supplement)

A CHANGE AND A CHANCE.

By L. G. MOBERLEY.

AN ADVENTUROUS STORY, FULL OF DRAMATIC EPISODES.

- CHAPTER VIII. | A T " THE FAR HORIZON." '' Colin —in my wildest dreams I never thought it would be.quite so idyllic. It . 50 seldom that a house, or an—anything comes so entirely up to one's exRations; but really this houso more comes up to mine. Evelyn Tarrance, standing on the terI3CO outside their newly-acquired domain, looked through the open window at her husband, and sighed a long sigh of complete satisfaction. Colin, smoking his pipe in a big arm-' hair drawn near the low window-sill, smiled at his wife's eager words, but there was sympathetic understanding in his smile. "I like to hear you bubbling over," he saidj placidly, "and upon my word, there's something here to bubble about; what I foresee is, that our flat will see jess and less of us, and that ' The Far jforizon ' will become the ancestral home of the Tarrances." They couldn't have a more delicious gnCeStiral home," Evelyn said with-con-viction, " the children will love this for their holidays; and the garden will be an unending interest to you."

"You have seldom said a.truer word," her husband answered—his glance turning toward the said garden, terraced down the hillside, " the joys of a garden are perennial and, never ending. It jj very jolly even now in April." He raised himself ' on his elbow, and rested his -chin on the window-sill. " I like those hyacinths bordering the grass pathway, and the daffodils—"

''The daffodils make me want to sin's; and shout," his wife broke in.- "Those nice Drummonds had exactly the sort of perception that goes to the making of a lovely garden. Poor dears! I like them Colin —I do hope that daughter-in-law is really going to bo a comfort to them."

"Did she impress you as ono of tho comforting variety of women?" '■ " \y e ll —no-o —not exactly. Only, Colin, perhaps it isn't quite fair to judge. We have only seen her three times; that day the canie here by ' mistake—six weeks s r o fancy only six weeks, and we've actually got the house," she put in in parenthesis —" then the day she called upon us in town to thank us for helping her; and last week when we went to see tho Drummonds."

'' Hum—yes—three times. Well—and what did you make of her cn those last two occasions ? On the first we were feoth—"•

" Oh, wo- were both rather sorry for her—struck by her forlorn prettiness, and jo on."

"Yes, struck by her forlorn prettiness," Colin repeated, " but what about the last occasions, when "she was no less pretty, though possibly less forlorn?" Evelyn hesitated. She was close to the window now, leaning against the wall of the house —her eves turned toward the great view, spread out seemingly under her very feet. "Colin —I do hope I'm not an utter beast, but —somehow I don't like her, though I can't in the least say why 'I don't. She is very pretty, really very, very pretty, in fact lovely; and she has most charming manners, and is so grateful -to -us, and so altogether nice and pleasant; and yet—l don't like her."

.j; I clo not like you. Doctor Fell, 1 The reason why I cannot tell. Iff husband quoted softly. " Well, do you like her yourself," Evelyn turned suddenly, and looked, into Colin's face, " now be honest, do you lite her yourself 1 " ■ "Xo—X don't. - 1 never did," came the uncompromising raply, " that forlorn prettiness, for some unaccountable reason, repulsed me; but ihe Drummonds seem very contented 'with their daughter-in-law, and she appears to * make them happy, so it is not for us to sit in judgment."

"I wasn't exactly sitting in judgment. Although I don't care for young Mrs. Drummond—whose name, Betty, strikes we as being absolutely incongruous—l didn't meuu. to, judge her. I. was 'really talking more from the standpoint of being interested in her as a personality; as a rather unusual human being. Because, whether you like her. or not, you must own she is pnusual."

" Heavens, yes—she is unusual . all right enough. At least,, in a sense, she is unusual. I should inclined to say she was unusual as a daughter-in-law for those dear nice Drujnmonds;—but in herself—she belongs to' a not altogether uncommon type." • "A type? What type?" Evelyn's frank eyes met, her husband's amused brown ones.

"My dear—the type which is as old 8 5 lihth." and aeons of years older even than that beguiling lady! It sounds rather spiteful to speak; in such terms, of the ■fiumriionds' daughter-in-law—but I look upon 'her as belonging to the type of wd of prey—of vampire." ''% dear Colin! What on earth? — >vliy?" Evelyn became a little incoherent; then she laughed. " Of course you know [®>t about a tiling like that," she said,

* man cannot fail to realise those ' in a woman, more quickly . than a fellow-woman can discover them. I W hope she. won't upset those nice ' inlaws.' of hers; both Mr. and Mrs. Drum®oiid are such real dears, so simple aud so genuine; and I liked the nephew too; fh, Maitland was so particularly charrnlng to his rather vague aunt." " Bid it also strike you that Mr. Mait'and' was a good deal" fascinated by his Hewly found cousin?"

. " Yes it did, and I was sorry. Maitland 15 a good chap, a very good chap—but a particularly strong one I should lanc y, strong in character I mean; and ram prepared to stake a good deal on jj 6, fair Betty's powers of annexing him, if sllfl wishes to annex. I should think she w °ald have 110 difficulty in drawing him ■ 4 ? 4 y from his present allegiance should choose. I gathered, didn't I, that "jre is a present allegiance?" Oh. Mrs. Drurnmond made no mystery about it. She told me they were very • - as3 d because their nephew is engaged 0t on the point of becoming engaged, to i 1 !! lrl who is now abroad. I have forgotp .her name, but'the Drummonds seem" 0 like all they have heard about her, are prepared to welcome her with arms."

~i If Madame Betty puts no spoke in wheel," Colin said significantly, " that ywtular type abjiors rivals, remember. also clog in the mangerish! It may 1 , Wa "t a thing for itseif, but it will th ; n"f! et ' if anybody else shall have that li I — We are sinking to the level of ® most outrageous gossip," Evelyn exa ' au ß' 1 ' " 001110 °"t' Yviii •' an( ' r 'ght round the domain jj, ™ e - I feel as if, even now, there ] : 6 '"l some unexplored corners! And afU -,IS ' eavu Drummonds and their jy?[ rs a ' ol ie- They have nothing, to do w, , us > and we'arc never likely to be yff,«P in them." IJ'll 1 remar k S oos to show how slender ! e knowledge of any human being of tlie ma y ol ' may "ot be hidden behind jiji Cuil:u " that shrouds our future from

I like that place," she said, "1 wonder who lives there. I'vo so busy over our own premises, that I haven't nad time to think pf our neighbours." As she spoke, the door of the cottage ' leaning into its flowery garden, was opened with some violence; and a' woman ran across the grass "plot towards the fence. Could you help me, please could you help me?" She said to the husband and wife, "I don't know what to do." Evelyn realised that the speaker was no longer young; that her facp was white and pinched, and that fear looked out of her eyes and Evelyn, being one of tlie worlfl's, helpers, stepped quickly up to the low, dividing fence. ' Of course we will help," she said, the strong confidence of Iter tones currying comfort to the frightened figure in the garden. " Tell us what is wrong. My husband and I will do all we can." Some of the fear died out of the woman's face; relief swept over it. " I don't know what to do," she repeated shakily, " you see 1 am alone here, with Martha, my maid—and Martha has all at once got so queer—l am afraid—" Her voice dropped, she looked, over her shoulder with a nervous gesture, and Evelyii saw she was shaking from head to foot.

" It's all right," slie said, "don't be frightened. My husband will help you, and so will I."

"I think I can get over the fence," Colin here put in, " it isn't high, and you go round to the front door, Eve, and meet me there."

" But take care," the ' little woman in the garden er.ied affrightedly, " take care of Martha. She is so strange—l—even I am afraid."

Evelyn did not stay to hear more. Opening the gate which led from their garden into the copse, she went quickly through it—sure that the front entrance to the cottage must be in the lane beyond. Colin meanwhile manipulated ,the fence with little difficulty, and was soon standing beside the small woman on the lawn.

" Now, tell me just what has happened," he said, in his pleasant voice, which at once inspired trust, " is your servant ill ?" < .. " I—don't know. I can't make out whether she is ill, or what it is. But she has been strange for several days; and to-day she began to mutter dreadful things: and she said tho house was over-run with rats, and that she had seen a snake iti her bed. And then—she said I was going to hurt her—and she picked up a knife, and I—l ran out to the garden and saw you."

"Has she always been a drinker?"

" A drinker ? Oh, no !" The little lady looked surprised. " Martha is a teetotaller—she always has been." " She may have been once, a long time ago," Colin responded grimly. "She certainly isn't now. Your description can only apply to a case of delirium tremens, and as soon as I have seen that you are safe, I'll get tho doctor to come round."

" Delirium tremens." The stranger stopped 011 the path, looking aghast, " Oh, but indeed you are making a mistake. I do think Martha is ill—l am sure she is—but she doesn't drink. She Jias never done anything of that sort. She couldn't possibly have delirium tremens." " I am afraid she has perhaps been drinking secretly—unknown to you," Colin said gently. "In any case, we must get a doctor as soon as we can. Are you on the telephone?" " Yes —oh,- yes—l have a telephone. But —I can't —I mean, it is dreadful to distrust—" Her words came to an abrupt conclusion, as from the house there came the sound of a long-drawn shriek, followed by that of crashing glass, and Colin rushed ahead of his companion, throdgh the open garden door. Guided by sounds of further shrieks and crashings, he nyi along a passage, into a room facing the lane, where he found his wife clinging to the arm of an infuriated woman, in whose upraised hand was a cut-glass jug.

"Leave me be!" the woman shrieked at the top of her voice. " Leave me be! "Why do you want to con\f> here interfering ? There's snakes on that wall —snakes, I tell you !" Her voice rose in shrill terror. " I've got to kill them somehow."

Wrenching herself free of Evelyn, she flung the.jug she held with all her force against the opposite wall, where it broke to fragments. ' " Telephone to the nearest doctor," Colin said in a low tone to his wife; then he turned to the frantic woman. " Sit down at once," he said sternly and slowly, fixing his eyes upon her inflamed and furious face. " Sit down there,' he pointed Jlo a chair, " and don't move until I say you may."

Something in his authoritative voice and manner seemed to awe her, for shfl shrank back with a frightened expression, mut- ! tering and scowling at the man whose big person seemed to fill the tiny dining room. Colin saw that she was a middle-aged woman, whose smooth hair and plain black dress seemed to proclaim her the typical respectable maid; while, on the other hand, her flaming face and wild eyes equally proclaimed her predominating vice. Momentarily cowed by Colin, she sat very still for a while; but when her mistress appeared at the door, glancing with terrified eyes at the disordered room, she leapt to her feet again, glaring at the wall, arid shrieking in accents of unbridled'terror. " Take them away—kill them —somebody! They are sliding down the wall. Thev'll bite every one of us. Kill them! Kill" them!" The panic horror in her tones was infectious. Her frightened , mistress shrank back, her eyes dark with dismay; and Colin felt that he himself was affected by the weirdness of the scene. Without a eecond's pause the distracted maid picked up 0110 article after another from table and sideboard and hurled them at the imaginary snakes; while her mistress dropped into the nearest chair, watching her with fascinav-d, fear-strrcken ejes. " Oh, Martha!" she gasped once, rather breathlessly. " Oh, Martha! ' But Martha was oblivious to any utter.ance of her mistress, oblivious to anything but the destruction _ of imaginary snakes; and Colin was beginning to wonder whether ho should be able by himself to control the now almost frantic creature when to his inexpressible relief there were sounds of voices and footsteps, arid Evelyn, followed by a short but powerfully-built man, entered the room. " Luckily, Dr. Simmonds was at home, Evelyn began, and: " Very luckily," her husband responded grimly. " Now, you take that poor little thing into another room while the doctor and I tackle the situation." With a nod of his head he indicated the mistress of the house, standing with her back against the wall, gazing in frozen silence at her servant. " Come with me," Evelyn said gently, taking the other by the hand, and reahs|in"- that she was stone cold and shaking like an aspen leaf. "My husband and the doctor will do everything that can be done. Come into some other room." The poor little woman looked at her with wide wistful eyes, and quivering lips,—but speech seemed impossible to her. She clung to Elvelyn's hand, and together they left the sceno of turmoil, Evelyn shutting the door behind them. " (Ve had better go in here," the otheiv found her voice at last, as she pushed opem a door opposite, and ushered Evelyn into a dainty furnished sitting-room, " I can't understand it. Martha has been so good to me;—it isi like a nightmare. Evelyn's heart went out to the small woman, whose white face wore so anguished an expression, and putting a hand gently on her shoulder, she said with firmness:

c Tr o j> '^nd er slowly from terrace to terrace s l, garden—rejoicing in -what was for » ? ov,-in g i" the beds, and planning jLr , v developments— was a pastime that a ftcrn US 3 w '^ e ' ovec '> an( l the silica? 0 ?- was already nearing boiiud when they reached the sin a li their'own property, whero a lubp i e °' ,Se s1oo( ' between them and a : " s p™? H>c right of this copse, ■- 'The'Tr" T Con ." !, K U P 1° the- fence of tottacf-. . ar ! 7 zoa '' stood a little white totlaL' ;, " c l Evelyn looked across at the "So with interested eyes."

(copyniGHT.) Author of "A Year at 1 the Oatside," "The Voice," etc., etc. ' >

''Now I will tell you what I mean to do. I mean to take you up to our house, and you just stay with us until —well, until the doctor decides \vhafc it is best to do about your maid." "Your houseA pair of dazed blue eyes met Evelyn's; "which is your house? Why are you- so kind' to me'! You don't even know my name, nor I yours." "My name is Tarrance. My husband and 1 live in 'The Far Horizon'—just above you—we really are very near neighbours." "'The Far Horizon'!" A smile flitted for a moment over the other woman's distracted features. " I always thought that was such a lovely name, but why should you bother about me? I am quite a stranger." "Does that matter? Surely we can all give each other a helping hand when difficulties come along."

" My . name is Elmers—Christabel Elmers " —the small woman put in hurriedly, " my maid and I just live very quietly in the cottage—Copse Cottage it is called. This far-away, peaceful place suits me, I—l don't like towns, and bustle, and lots"of people." There®was such a curious nervousness in her voice and manner that a faint surprise shot across Evelyn's mind—was the little lady with the white face and very blue eyes, in hiding! Or why did she show such odd embarrassment and nervousness.- However, being the leasts suspicious of mortals, Evelyn dismissed the thought at once, and merely continued to urge Mrs. Elmers to go with her to her own houso.

Christabel filmers' indecision gave way suddenly as so often happens with undecided people, and she allowed herself to be led out of her own cottage and across tho copse to the Tarrances' gate. The sight of their garden of terraces drew from her many exclamations of delight, and when she and her guide finally stood upon the top ten-ace, and looked out across the great expanse of country at their feet she drew a long breath of delight. "Oh! how beautiful—how beautiful," she said softly, and 'Evelyn saw there were tears in her eyes. "Of course I have seen this same view from the hilltop—but hero on your terrace, it seems, —I don't know how (o put it into words —it seems more intimate and yefc more infinite."

" There is something wonderfully restful about it," Evelyn answered, "it gives one such, a-sense of peace: such a feeling that all the things of life must drop away from one here, and that one must only look at tho greatness of the whole.''

The' small face turned up to hers was very wistful. " Sometimes ' the little things of life get. such a tight clutch upon one, it is difficult to push them away," she said, " and yet—in sight of this, how can one let little things hurt or worry ?" The same wavering smile that Evelyn had noticed before, hovered again over her face; she put a hand impulsively on Evelyn's arm. " Thank you for being so very kind to me," she said, "it is lonely sometimes even with Martha; but I think you are right when you say that looking at all that ought to make one forget, small worries."

Her glance rested dreamily on the big view, and then she turned again to Evelyn. "It's so—satisfying, isn't it?" she said. " I spent a summer once in .the Himalayas, and whenever I looked at a huge sweep of country I felt as though something inside mo were satisfied."-. Evelyn smiled.

" That expression suits the case," she said, " there is an extraordinary sense of satisfaction in a wide expanse of earth" and sky. To me, personally, it is more satisfying than the sea." " Oh yes—and to me too," Christabel exclaimed eagerly, " the sea is such a fidget—this," her hands went out towards the wide space, " is so still, so still and so—infinite."

Evelyn took her guest into the sunny sitting-room that opened upon the terrace, and there ensconced her in a comfortable chair, and persuaded her to drink some warm milk, and rest quietly until news came from her own cottage. Evelyn herself sat down upon the wide windowseat, took tip the sock she was knitting, and began to talk about a variety of subjects, to distract her guest's mind,* if possible, from unpleasant subjects. But this was no easy task, for the poor little woman's thoughts went back with wearying persistence to her cottage, and the scenes through which she had just passed. " She picked up a knife," Christabel exclaimed more than once quite irrelevantly, " she picked up a knifo, and I believe she would have struck me if I had resisted her—Martha who seemed so fond of me—it is so dreadful." "But she was not herself," Evelyn repeated, over <ind over again, "she really was not herself. For the moment she was like a mad woman. She didn't realise what she was doing. You mustn't think she cares for you less than she did: only she had gone mad for the time being." " It frightens me," the little woman shivered, " I wasn't ever very brave. My husband used to laugh at me and say I was a coward. I had .1 fright when I was a, girl, and I don't think I ever quite got over it. A native attacked me and the children I was looking after, as we were walking along the road. Somehow I have been nervous and silly ever eince." " You have lived in India a good deal-, have you ?" Evelyn tried to get the subject on to safe ground.

"Oh yes—l was there a long time. I went out as a governess, to some dear children; I loved them, and I loved India too. I was very happy in my work—and then—l married—" a tiny pause followed, and Evelyn found herself wondering what sort of marriage her new acquaintance had made—and whether some tragedy lay behind the blue eyes which looked so wistfully into hers. "My marriage wasn't very happy," Mrs. Elmers continued abruptly, " I think—l mean—of course it was chiefly my fault; I was a stupid little thing. I really knew almost nothing about men, and I suppose I wasn't the kind of woman who would ever hold a man long. Anyhow I couldn't hold my husband," she ended with extraordinary bitterness. The outburst did not surprise her listener. Evelyn realised that she was overwrought, that her nerves were strung up to high tension; and moreover, Evelyn herself was accustomed to finding herself in the position of confidante. People had an odd way of pouring out their, life histories and all their joys and sorrows at her feet; and this latest acquaintance was no whit behind others in her evident wish to tell her story to sympathetic ears. " Perhaps you and your husband were not quite suited to one another," Evelyn said gently, " sometimes in these cases, no one can really be blamed."

" Oh,. I don't exactly blame Harry—my husband; and I don't exactly blame myself," a despairing note crept into the soft voice, "it all just happened. For a few months he was wild about me. It seemed as though I could do and say nothing wrong, as though I was the whole world to him; and then, all of a sudden, for no particular reason that I could discover—he didn't seem to care any more. It was all over." (To be continued daily.)