Love In Waiting

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22402, 24 April 1936, Page 10 (Supplement)

Love In Waiting

By MAY WYNNE Author of " In Honour Bound," " The Marrying of Marietta," etc., eto

(Copyright)

WELL-TOLD STORY WITH LOVE AND MYSTERY AS ITS THEME

CHAPTER ll.—(Continued) Dr. Simmons looked back down the lane, but no ono was in sight. "It must have been the General's Indian servant, Darvari," he mused, "but he is the most harmless of mortals, fahous, I understand, for his suburb curry and his devotion to the General, who, by the way, is a recluse, interested in horticulture, history, and the Army. His nephew and heir, Dennis Carradale, comes as seldom as possible to visit his uncle, but ho happened to be at the meet this morning. If Darvari ever scares you again, little girl, speak to me, and I will give Dennis the tip. I ought to have included him in the category >f Darvari's idols; be worships the lad." "I'm sure 1 vas a duffer," smiled Marvel, who wiis rapidly recovering from her fright. "I wish I had asked Darvari my way home instead of running off in such a ridiculous way." But the doctor only laughed, declaring she had only done what nino girls in ten would havu done. "And meantime," he added, "hero we are at the Manor, and all in good time. Here comns your sister in charge of no less a penion that the General's nephew. Rather a coincidence." Marvel was already being hailed by Roseleen, who ca::ne up to the car laughing and rosy. "Where have you been gallivanting?" she panted. "We had a glorious time, didn't we, Mr. Caradale? We climbed

ing of a ragged kiddie, and to forget the hole in his socks when he called on a country magnate! „ Ho had brought one of these defective socks to Marvel within an hour of their acquaintance. "I'm sure you can darn," lie urged, "and the mater merely cobbles. Be a sport and save mo from disgrace. The Penton girls are coming to tea, and it would upset their digestion if they saw my bare heel." So Marvel mended the sock, and Teddy sat beside her thinking what a jolly girl she was, and what .a topping colour her eyes were. When Patsy Rolford came strolling through the hall and saw them so engaged, a faint sigh escaped her. She was half afraid Teddy was not going to accept his cousins as sisters and she did not quite like the idea of cousins marrying. Besides dear old Ted must marry money, and sho was inviting Hilary liiston down for Christmas — such a nice, sensible girl, with £3001) a year of her own. "Hallo, Mater!" sang Teddy, stretching a long, lazy arm towards her, "come and see what Marvel we have here. Darning indeed! It's ornamentation. 1 shall wear those socks for high days and holidays for all time." Mrs. Rolford bent to kiss the top of his curly hair. "Marvel spoils you already," she laughed, "but I'm going to ask her to come along now arul make gingerbread

gates, got stuck in a swamp, were chased by a bull; in fact, did everything but hunt cubs. 1 never saw Auntie." Marvel listened and laughed, while she looked with interest at the tall, handsome man beside her sister. Dennis Carradale must have been somewhere in hiis late twenties, and his kees eyes, sun-tanned face, and wellpoised head suggested a man with a purpose in life vrhich was going to cost a fight. Marvel wondered vaguely what this stranger's cherished ambition might be. She was sure he had one I CHAPTER HI Patsy's nieces, as the neighbourhood dubbed Marvel and Roseleen, were not long in finding their niche in the social circle of Pictor.. And, being young, with a keen zesit for life, they enjoyed new experiences, hugely. Of course they were not favourites everywhere! Picton, like every other neighbourhood, had its coteries, its cliques, its gossipers, and its jealousies, but Patsy Rolford with her largerhearted good nature had a way of ruthlessly ignoring all these pettinesses, and inviting sworn enemies as well as bosom friends to her many gatherings at the Manor, where —oh shocking!—the bread and butter was reminiscent of a school treat, the cake was obviously home made—with egg substitute and margarine for ingredients; and yet you would find the Manor tea table surrounded by the jolliest crowd, while Mrs: Farford-Laing, who ordered all her cakes from London, had difficulty even in luring the doctor's wife to partake of her bounty. Marvel and Roseleen had caught the infection of the Manor spirit, and played their part as daughters of the house, to the secret chagrin of those poor lassies- Avhose list of "eligibles" on the male side showed threat of shrinking. Still, thank goodness modern youth does not centre the whole of its thoughts and ambitions on the marriage altar, and on the whole the two girls were popular. On one particular Saturday in November, the gathering was exceptional, owing to the arrival of Teddy Rolford from Oxford. True son of his mother was Teddy—big;, jolly, careless in much, but careful in the things that really mattered with a fine chivalry of soul under a carefree manner. The sort of man to empty his pockets at the plead-

for the lions' feed this evening." And Marvel, little guessing why she was being coaxed away, came. That gingerbread brought her fame too. Tead.v, in the name of the revellers, presented her with a "Master Cook's" hat, and Tommy Phipps brought a petition for "more, please." Roseleen seated beside Dennis Carradale, interrupted with a suggestion whispered to her by the companion, who was almost as new a recruit as herself to these parts. "Mr. Carradale has such a glorious stunt," she sang. "Listen all. The ice bears." "Worse luck," groaned Patsy Rolford, who was a hunting enthusiast. The squire coaxed, nay! dragged, from his study, where ho was fiercely attacking financial problems, murmured "hear, hear!" but no one quite knew what lie was applauding, poor man. "Mr. Carradale," went on Roseleen, still more cheerily, "has been telling me that no one ever —or hardly ever — skates on Farham lake (> and that the ice is in perfect condition. Also—the moon is at the full." There was a breathless pause. The "youthful rabble" concentrated its attention on the speaker—also on tho half bashful companion beside her. "You see," murmured Carradale, rising to the occasion, and casting embarrassment —or discretion —to the winds. "My uncle is away in Town till Tuesday. Business at the Indian Office. As we—um —all know, he does not entertain. Still, I—er —am absolutely certain that in his absence he would have no objection to our having a midnight—or rather, moonlight skating party at Farham. In fact, after sampling the ice this morning, I asked his permission to invite you all.'-' He did not add that the General had very forcibly pointed out that ho did not intend to have tho neighbourhood on his doormat when ho was in residence and lie wished Dennis to make it clear that neither invitation nor entertainment came from him. Fortunately, Dennis' listeners understood the situation perfectly, and long and loud waxed tho applause. Here was panacea for the hunters and for the skaters. Plans were made, acceptances taken for granted and Dennis Carradale went home in high good humour over having established a firm loothohl in the Manor circle, or, more particularly, in the good graces of the

prettiest girl he Lad seen for ages — brown-eyed Roseleen. " You skate, of course," Teddy said to Marvel, as, muffled in Fair Isles', coats and mufflers, the sltating party from the Manor met in the hall. " Good for you, we'll bo partners. I've not skated on Farham lake for the last ten years —in fact, not since the General took up his abode there. Pity he's such a hermit. Fine-looking old boy, too. I like the nephew; he's a bit serious, but no doubt that's the mossy atmosphere at Farham. It will do him good to join our crowd. Your sister has him in tow." Marvel laughed. " Roseleen would wake anyone up," she replied. " And hero she is to hurry us. Come along." Ho caught her hajul and raced her after the others. It seemed the most natural thing in the world that they should " pair." And Dennis Carradale had not exaggerated the perfection of tlio ice. How those young folk enjoyed themselves! How good it was to hear merry peals of laughter evoked by the misfortunes of those who fell! Oh! the romance of moon and ice and, above all, of youth . . . and the joy of it I Airs. Rolford, seated panting on the bank, beamed at sight of her beloved Teddy, with one arm round Roseleen and one about Marvel, whirling by. Dennis had gone indoors to hurry up refreshments, and Mrs. Rolford smiled at the sight of the solemn Indian bearing a tray filled with jugs of steaming cocoa, mulled wine and spiced cakes, while other -servants followed, ready to enjoy, too, this hectic diversion from the usual gloom of the " hermitage." Dennis was a splendid host, and Darvari was the perfect servant in seeing to the needs of his young master's friends. Gradually, too, the skaters returned to their sport, though Mrs. Rolford herself called a warning. The thaw had set in sharply. Was the ice absolutely safe? Of course, they laughed at her—called her a " fusser " and such names . . .till what she feared came to pass. It had been Darvari, who, shivering like a greyhound in the cold, pointed out the danger of skating over yonder where a spring treacherously threatened heedless revelers. Darvari, possibly not understanding the nature of the danger, knew of it, and hurried with Mrs. Rolford along the bank " I'll forbid their coming near here," she was explaining to Teddy, who, seeing her beckoning, had come toward her. " Those springs make the ice so dangerous. Look! What is it, Darvari?" The last words came in a startled cry, for, as they stood, Marvel's slender figure was seen approaching the danger zone. Swiftly she shot forward, not understanding the cry of warning which came too late. There followed a crashing of ice—a wildly-swaying form and a girl's face of terror upraised to the moonlight—and then . . . yes! Mrs. Rolford saw it in a moment's dismayed wonder —the face of the Indian, terrible and merciless, as he caught Teddy Rolford's shoulder as the young man would have dashed to the rescue—flinging him back on to the bank. CHAPTER IV. How rapidly everything happened after Darvari's strange action! Patsy Rolford had hardly sprung to her son's side fearing he might have been injured by the force with which he fell, than a shout from the scene of the accident told that Marvel had not been left to her fate. Even as Ted struggled up, dazed and furious at the assault, the Indian was gliding rapidly back to the house in responso to a call for rope—rope —rope. Mrs. Rolford caught her son's arm. "It's all right, old boy," she said huskily, "Roseleen and young Carradale wore nearest. Dennis has gone to —to help." There was a thin trickle of blood showing on Teddy's neck. Ho must have struck his head against a stone in falling, but he had rallied from that dazed state, and took not the slightest heed of his mother as ho started off to skate toward the clustering figures which stood in a half-circle, hiding the ugly gap in the ice. Mrs. Rolford, looking back to the house with the thought of hot baths, warm rugs, and such like in her mind, spied Darvari heading a little group of men servants who came bringing ropes, rugs, all she had thought of just now. It bewildered poor Patsy. First of all that wretched Indian had been half killing poor Ted in stopping him going to the rescue. And now, here he was, thoughtful, prompt, alert in the matter of rescue. But it was no moment for words, and Mrs. Rolford, seeing all was in train for "after care," swung off out on to the lake just in time to hear a breathless cheer which told of rescue. Then the circle parted, the skaters gliding off in the direction of the banks, while Teddy came straight toward her with Marvel in his arms, leaving the dripping rescuer to tho care of Roseleen and others. For once Patsy Rolford was not the commander-in-chief, though she would dearly have liked to takw Alarvel in her own sturdy arms. 13ut a glance at her son's white face and stern eyes checked her, and sho contented herself in skating back alongside of him, nobly forbearing question. It was a relief to find Darvari quite taken up with his master, who was reeling about rather tipsily on his skates, supported by two of hia companions. Flo was dripping wet, of course, and must have been chilled to tho bono. (To bo continued on Saturday next)