THE VALLEY OF PEACE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21332, 5 November 1932, Page 19

THE VALLEY OF PEACE

By JEANNETTE STOREHOUSE

" v ». . Elinor Frayne is a shallow, mercenary little pig, but, for heaven s sake don't turn woman-hater on her account; she's not worth it. Bill, old boy The words, written in his sister's large, untidy scrawl, smote Steele accusingly; frowning, ho continued to read: — " There are lots of nice, honest girls left in the world, and don't you forgot it, my lad! " Take that poor kid, liay Carleton, for instance. I met her at the type-writ-ing clases, you know, and wo got a bit chummy, on account of riding on the same tram. She was a little, white-facod thing, with great eyes, like a more-pork, and somehow I felt sorry for her, and she seemed to like me; so I asked her round for a game of tennis, onco or twice; though the mater wasn't too keen, on account of her people keeping a rather second-rate boarding-house, and being rather a queer lot, altogether; but I'm running off the rails! " Ray married a sort of remittance man —a regular waster who lived at the board-ing-house, and ho must havo led the poor little woman an awful life. " Just recently he had a bad accident — driving a car when ho was drunk and the doctors say he will never walk again. I've seen Ray since, and talk about pluck! There's something about that kid that is awfully hard to describe,—warm and glowing, like a fire, is as near as I can get to it. She isn't a patch on Elinor for looks, of course, but you just know she ■would, never let you down. " She is preparing, quite calmly, to take that wretched husband of hers up into the country somewhere, as lie is quite morbid about seeing strangers since ho was hurt. The doctors say he may live for years, and just think what her life will be, buried alive with a cantankerous invalid. . , , . Steele paused in his reading suddenly, a sense of exhiliration pervading lum. Love like that . * - What it would mean to a fellow . . . Once ho hacl believed that Elinor loved linn, but she had failed at the first test • • • A richer man ... I Well, a field surveyor in Government pay wasn't much of a catch beside a prosperous business man. And it hadn't taken the child long to make her choice. . . A child, that was it; and ho had expected too much. . . A woman such as this Ray Carleton, though, a man might give her his soul. . . Thus was born, deep within Steele s heart, the ideal woman. Intangible as air, yet real as life itself. * * * * * Eight years later he believed his dream had materialised; which was when he firstsaw Edith Craven. She was standing on the verandah steps of the old grey house that was her home, framed in a riot of roses and wisteria, with one strong, sun-burnt hand resting on the head of an old, dim ; eyed collio. " Warm and glowing, liko a fire, Steele thought, with a strange thrill at his heart, as lie looked straight into the golden eyes. " Excuse me, but could I speak to Mrs. Craven for a moment?" " You already are doing that, and she smiled at him naturally. Steele was plainly astonished. " I thought —" he said, " that is—" " You thought I was a fierce old woman?" A dimple flashed in her smooth cheek, and a little gurgle of laughter escaped her. " I admit the Maoris led mo to believe —" " Oh, the Maoris are scared of me. I bully them, you know, about the way they feed their babies, and I make them go to the doctor when they're sick, and harass them generally. You're Mr. Steele, the surveyor, aren't you, and you've come about that road ?" " Of course, I'm awfully wild about that road, but you can rely on me not to do anything spectacular—such as pulling up the pegs and burning them, lor instance, or holding up your party at the point of a revolver." " A road should be a great convenience, though," he remarked, lamely enough. " A road would spoil my ' valley of peace.' " " You must think I'm quite mad! I know I can't possibly prevent the Government taking a road through my property, but I love this spot, and the vision of hooting motor-cars invading it fills mo with wrath. You see, I have named it " The Valley of Peace," and there is the " River of Dreams." She pointed to where a tidal stream, between yellow-green mangroves, wound toward the valley. " An ideal spot for a home," Steele said, " and as you have water carriage, I don't suppose you miss a road. Still, it must be a bit lonely—for a woman. " I don't feel lonely," she answered simply. " I have Sholto, and old Tui, my man-of-all-work. Down in the paddock there's a - very tempermental pony, who only allows me to ride him when lie is in the mood, and two very lady-like cows. And I amuse myself teaching girls from the settlement to cook and sew—they're very quick and clever, but they never stay long enough to grow mongton- • ous!" Thus it was in the beginning. Soon, even the ancient dog, Sholto, came to regard Steele's visits to the old, grey house as something established and accepted. And Sholto's mistress was pleased to see him; Steele could not doubt that, but whether as a friend or something more, he could not judge. She was sweet and frank, and honest as a child —up to a point—beyond that point a veil was drawn. That a young and attractive woman — a mere gii'l, by modern standards—should choose to live in such a lonely situation, was, in itself, a mystery that baffled and perplexed him. Poverty, at least, could not have influenced her, he reflected, for that old house in the wild valley was an abode of beauty and comfort. Only Mrs. Craven herself was out of the picture; with her short skirts, and shingled hair, her sturdy independence and love of the open air. Though she was as romantic as her own great-grandmother, Steele told himself, exulting, remembering the names, " Valley ol I'oace " and " River of Dreams.''* But what storm of life could have driven her to this sanctuary'! She lived in the present; vividly. Yet the shadow of sonic tragic past still lingered in her honest eyes; vaguely disturbing Steele, and keeping him at a distance. There was a remoteness in this woman's spirit that lie could not fathom, and it chilled him. This young widow never spoke of her husband, nor of her life before her husband's death. That, to Steele, seemed ominous, suggesting a wound that had never healed, and ho dared not probe it. Yet his love and his desire craved desperately an answer to the eternal cpiestion in his heart. " I think I'll spend Christmas in camp this year," he remarked, carelessly, one evening as they sat on the wide verandah, watching the sun go down, in a-glory of rose and gold, behind the hills at the further side of the harbour, that showed a streak of turquoise-blue beyond the mangroves. Watching her covertly, he thought he saw the colour deepen in the warm gold of her cheek, and she flashed him a swift glance from under her long lashes, that set his pulses racing. "Your home's in Auckland, isn't it?" Mrs. Craven asked suddenly. She added, in a curious, half-reluctant way, " I believe I've met your people." " You're an Auckland girl. ..." Steel began eagerly, but Mrs. Craven stood up, with a swift, lithe movement:—

A NEW ZEALAND STORY

(COPTMGBT.)

" It's a perfect evening, and the tide's full; let's go for a row before tea. . . I'll race you to the landing. . It was as though a door had been closed. * * I « * Weeks passed, the holidays came and went; and still Steele had not voiced the question that showed plainly in his steady grey eyes when thoy rested on Edith Graven. At the settlement, the Maoris discussed the probable date of the wedding, with great freedom and interest; only old Tui, keeping a discreet and loyal silence during these discussions, for the old man was entirely devoted to his young employer, and even an occasional ' spree never loosed his tongue with regard to her. The men of Steele's own party were not quite so scrupulous:— I " He's a goner," the cook said, with conviction, " I'm a married man meself, and I know the signs." " Widders," the chainman remarked, sagely, " arc the very deuce: one nearly caught me once, it was on the West Coast." "Yeah! We heard that yarn before, Tom. But the boss is hooked, all right. Why the doose lie don't pop the question, is what beats me. . . Where's that spoon again. . . It was something the same, though differently expressed, that was agitating Steele's own mind. 1 " I'm like a wretched hero in a Victorian novel," he told himself, disgustedly " trying to screw up courage to propose . . . I funk the issue, that's the whole trouble. . . . there's a shadow between us. ..." A hundred times ho was on the brink of taking her in his arms and kissing her, but always the shadow intervened. And the fear that ho might lose all. . . She wasn't the sort of woman one could be sure of sweeping off her feet. . . . " You're awfully dull this afternoon," Mrs. Craven remarked, plaintively. " Yon haven't admired my new frock, and I donned it in your honour!" Steele met the laughing eyes of his hostess gravely. " It's a very pretty frock," he said, " nearly as pretty as its owner." Sha laughed, and flushed a little, and her eyes fell suddenly, as she answered gaily:— " Why, you must be like Sholto —determined to keep on my soft side, because we're having cream puffs for tea!" Steele did not smile. He spoke almost roughly, " What's the use of pretending?" he said, " you know you're beautiful." "Oh-h!" said Mrs. Craven; she was suddenly pale, and her lips trembled a little. She began to speak quickly, in a rather breathless way. " When I was a kid, I was an ugly little thing, and it was a great grief to me. .1 used to pray for beauty most earnestly each night, and the first thing I did every morning was to look m the glass. Nothing ever happened, though." - . , , . , She was looking straight before her, into the sun-drenched garden, as sho loaned back in the low, verandah chair, her strong, slender, hands clasped behind her dark head, and Steele noted the quick rise and fall of her bosom, under the thin summer dress, and ho was vaguely aware of an agitation and distress that she was struggling to control. , Suddenly, she sprung to her feet, as though something in his scrutiny disturbed her. ~ " I must see if the kettle is boiling, she declared, in that strange, breathless manner, and vanished through the open French window. Steele rose, also, and went and stood by the verandah railing, his hands gripping it hard. She came back presently, and there was a faded likeness in her hand. " Look," she said, " this was taken when I was twelve, you can see what a very plain young person I was." It was the likeness of a pale child, with great, wistful eves, and dark hair, dragged back ruthlessly from a broad forehead. , So much Steele saw. fhen the photo slipped through his unsteady fingers, and lav lace downward on the verandah floor, - and Steele saw the name on the back. Kay Carleton. lie stared stupidly, his mind groping back into the past. " Warm and glowing, like a fire," . . . Hay Carleton. . . Uncommon name, and it stood foi his fai li in womanhood. . . But why was it written on the back of Edith Craven s photok But .. . your name is Edith Craven, lie said, in a strange, hoarse voice. " My maiden name was Carleton. Junta Raymond Carleton, and I was always called Ray, because I bad a cousin who was another Edith, and I lived with them —with my aunt. . Steele gazed down into her up-raised face. Her honest eyes, set so wide apart, beneath her level brows. The mmith, sensitive passionate and sweet, ihe firmly moulded chin, and his own face was white, under tho tan, and there was fear in his steady, grey eyes. " Heaven ! How you must have loved him —your husband !' She gave a sudden cry, like a huit child, and sank into the nearest chair; covering a quivering face, with shaking hands. "If you only knew. - f him . . almost from the beginning. • . Youd df.-pise me . . . if—.V oll knew—everything." Her words came brokenly. " Despise you!" Steele cried, and kneeling, gathered her into his arms, while old Sholto tried jealously to push him away. Sho took her hands from her face then, and laying them against his breast, held him off, her sorrowing eyes searching his. Listen. . • I married Phillip Craven without loving him. I —l was only a kid. . . I didn't know what marriage meant . . - I was only a kid, and unlucky about jobs ... I lost two quite good ones . . . My aunt said I didn't try to keep them, but ... 1 tried terribly . . ■ Phillip seemed a way out, and I took it. And I paid for my mistake! The shame of it. . . " Then lie was hurt . . . badly . . . That very night, I had arranged to leave him . ■ .with another man. . ." She felt Steele stiffen, but hurried on. . . " I could not go then, of course; and we came up here, and I found my \ alley of Peace, and . . . my soul! Some brave loving woman left one in this old house for me I think. . . You know I think only happy peoplo should build houses, Bill. His heart thrilled, to hear his name on her lips, all unconsciously, and btv inado a, movement toward her, hut her strong hands still held him back. " I found happiness here ... a kind of happiness . • . and before Phillip died, a curious sort of friendship grew up between us. " His people have been wonderfully generous. They're English, you know, and lie was tho black sheep of the family, which is a very wealthy one. Tlis father still sends me (lie same allowance that he used to send Phillip, and the most expensive presents. They wanted mo to pay thern a visit; but I never felt that I belonged « . . like an impostor. . . " ] hated taking the money, at first, but I've been able to do a little good with if, and, legally, I've a right, of course." She drew a long breath, and her eyes met. his, squarely, sweetly. " Now you know (lie worst of me. It's been like a cloud hanging over us. I—l had to tell you, and I was afraid." "But the other fellow." Steele cried; " that chap you were going to run away with ?" " I was only a passinate, hurt child, Bill, and I couldn't understand my own heart—don't blame mo too much. . ." "Blame you!" Steele cried. And old Sholto scratched his arm with his paw, and whined. . . " But your Ray Carleton was only a myth, after all," Mrs. Craven said, a long time afterwards. " And a jolly good thing, too," Steele answered, cheerfully, " because she was in lovtf with another fellow. .