Love In Waiting

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22444, 13 June 1936, Page 15 (Supplement)

Love In Waiting

By MAY WYNNE

Author of In Honour Bound," " The Marrying of Marietta," etc., etc. (Copyright)

CHAPTER XV.—(Continued) From oue or two hints dropped by Patsy she fancied her aunt would bo relieved if she could find a billet elsewhore. Did that mean Tod was to bo married 600U ? Hilary was as careful as Patsy to dress in her best for the travellers' return. Marvel didn't just trouble. Her old blue frock was good enough since she was to be very much odd man out. It was tea time when the taxi drew up and Patsy was on tho doorstep long before Baxter arrived on the sceno. Marvel slipped off to tho kitchen to butter the crumpets. What a useful "'excuse! When she came back, flushing and smiling. Ted and Hilary were seated f on the Chesterfield, and tho squire safo in his nook by the fire. He looked years younger, and Marvel saw at once how contentedly he smiled at the pair on the sofa. » Marvel played her part joyously, almost deceiving Patsy and vastly relieving Ted. She did not deceive Hilary, who decided that tho'sooner her rival left the field the better. Ted was obviously glad to be home and relieved of responsibility. Hilary was less formidable and Marvyl less pitiful than ho had expected to find them, and ho rallied more easily to his OV Men do score by being less complex in their emotions than women. Possibly they have of the fatalist about them. Since it was inevitable that he married Hilary, and Marvel did not appear heartbroken, ho took tho sacrifice " in his stride." Hilary looked very pretty and showed a new side to her character, being half shy, wholly eager to please, a trifle wistful. After all, she had had so little love in her life, and she did love big, manly Ted. She believed she was going to make him love her. To-morrow, he would propose. This evening an opportunity was not likely to occur . . and when one did loom* in sight Ted never noticed it. Patsy Rolford was her old self again, talking of hunting, sport, future jollifications with the usual " crowd." Life was going to glide along on oiled wheels. In cheering Sam she cheered herself, while she literally beamed on Hilary and T^d. Ted wondered how long it was all going to last. He saw Marvel, like a shabby little ghost, flit to and fro in the background, and longed to leap up, snatch her in his arms and run off with her into the blue. But no! Family ties held him fast . . . and to-morrow ho must ask Hilary to be his wife . . . to have and to hold till death did them part. . . " I wonder," thought Tom miserably, "if I'm going to see it through. What a chump I am! Of course I can't do anything else ... I wonder . . . what Marvel really thinks. T wonder if sho's suffering like this. If she is . . He dared not go any further.

resented his mother's gratitude, his father's congratulations. " As well be hung for a sheep as a lamb," he said ambiguously; and tho squire looked pained. " Hilary will make a good wife," said Patsv. " You must play the game, Ted." Ted laughed. " I shall have plenty of reminders if I try to shirk it," ho remarked, and his mother sighod for the jolly, adoring son of other days. She felt she had lost something she had never expected to lose. Didn't Ted understand the relentless driving of necessity ? And. while Ted slunk off, hoping to avoid Marvel, Hilary was speaking to Darvari the Sikh in tho lane o.iise by. " Why do you watch the missiebaba?" she asked curiously. " You do not like her, I know it." Darvari regarded tho speaker intently. It annoyed Hilary to find his scrutiny made her feel very small. How dared this black servant despise her! Curiosity induced her to linger for a reply. Darvari spoke slowly. " The mem-sahib knows much that I do not know," he retorted. " I'm not a mem-sahib," replied Hilary petulantly, "I, too, am a missiobaba. One dav I shall be rnem-sahib to the young sahib-squire. Did you know that, Darvari? And do you know tho future?" He still considered her, his expression unfathomable. After all he came from' a warrior race, a race of kings. Only love to his two masters had induced him to sacrifice casto in coming to the white map's land. let he did not allow Hilary to know his opinion. He had a request to make and guessed she had a question to ask. But it might take an hour of tortuous talk to arrive at an understanding, and his sahib would be needing him. "Missie-baba," he replied very softly, "I know the past. Is it not of that you would speak?" Too startled at first to reply. Hilary stared with fascinated gaze at the tall Indian whoso scrutiny thrilled her with dawning fear. There was nothing melodramatic about Darvari. His manners were perfection, and, if his respect was only word-deep, at loast it was pleasant to be treated in that way. Instinctively Hillary had a deeprooted dislike to a native. She M-as sure all were treacherous, forgetting she was treacherous herself. But curiosity and conviction that this man could tell her what she wanted to hear helped her to overcome her aversion. She even tried to smile coquettishly at the dignified Darvari who towered above her. " I don't ciuite know what you mean, Darvari." sne hinted, " but I should like to know why you watch the English missi-baba who went up just now toward the house." Darvari looked up the lane. His keen eyes and keener ears would have soon discovered an eavesdropper, but there was not one in sight.

"Lady," he said quietly. "I knew tho ayah who nursed that missie-baba. I was in tho service of her sahib. Hilary clenched her hands. Her suspicions were not unfounded then. The Indian knew the secret she had read in Dr. Rolford's letter to his brother. All her own instincts for intrigue were roused. She saw her own cherished plans in danger. If the truth wore known she was sure she would lose Ted —and a coveted position. Also Marvel, the girl she hated, would gain all. Rather than that she was prepared to take a risk—and also to trust this man whom she half feared, j She went cautiousjy to work, not I yielding her patronising tones. In her eyes a native was very little superior to an animal; Yet she did not wish Darvari to know that. " The missie-baba is the daughter of the doctor sahib Rolford who died," said she smoothly, "Did the ayah servo his mem-sahib? I did not know you were in his service." " I have but one sahib," replied Dar\'ari. "The sahib General Carradale. He is my master. I have no other but the 3'oung sahib." "Then what do you mean?" asked Hilary. " We are talking of the missiebaba, Marvel Rolford." The white woman and tho Sikh looked at each other, then Darvari spoke very slowly. " The missie-baba who speaks," said he, " knows that that other is not tho daughter of the doctor sahib." Hilary drew a deep breath. " Then do you," sho asked impatiently, " know whose daughter she is?" Darvari spread out his hands. " Have I not said I was in her sahib father's service?" be replied, "but why do we talk when all the time the missiebaba knows the name of that other? In some book of wisdom she has read tho secret, and knows that the little missiebaba with the blue eyes is the daughter of-my sahib General Carradale, the daughter who has stolen the face of her mother and so brings danger upon this Darvari." CHAPTER XVII. Involuntarily Hilary gave a low cry, placing her finger to her lips. But Darvari went on speaking in a growing excitement "The missie-baba knew,'* he stated; "but how did she gain tho knowledge? The other missie-baba knows nothing." Hilary hesitated. Was she wn-e in taking a native into her confidence? She wished she had never asked this man any questions. But it was too late lo draw back "i have papers," she said. "I —I found them by accident. Papers from

CHAPTER XVI. It was an odd sort of breakfast party the next morning. Those seated at the table knew quite ■well what was going to happen, and ■wondered, each in his or her speculative fashion, if ever a proposal had been so planned before. It was not maiden bashfulness which induced Hilary to suggest going to the post after breakfast. Ted knew ; his role. "I may as well toddle along, too, he said, and looked at Marvel without in the least meaning to be cruel. A second later he was scalding his throat with boiling coffee. Marvel went down to the poultry-yard after seeing those two safely out of the way. She had a message from Tante about selling some eggs. She felt desperate. ' " I can't stay here," she thought. "As soon as Roseleen comes back I shall go. It's time she ' kept company after 1 walking out ' with her Dennis for so long. Oh, dear, why, why does life go topsy-turvy all for the sake of wretched money ? And . . . the best of it is Patsy herself would be content with a bed-sitting-room, a cigarette—and Jennikens plus. his menfolk. It is „for them she is mercenary. Oh t '^ r ' Patsy mercenary! It is a good thing Ted can't hear me." She wandered back to the house deep in thought, never noticing the Indian who watched her so intently from tho Darvari was for once so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not hear footsteps on the path near, and shivered, as a greyhound shivers, at sight of tho woman who stood by his side. • It .was Hilary—and she had been watching the Indian as he watched Marvel's retreating figure. She had won 1 Ted had proposed, sho had accepted. Already in her own eyes she was Mistress of the Manor with umoteen plans teeming in her fertile brain. She had left Ted to gp alone to tell his parents. Knowing his feelings sho was wise not to demand the usual blessings and congratulations. Ted, in his awkward, blundering way, had made it quite plain that he did not lore her, but had promised the next best thing in loyalty and affection. Hilary would have been amused had she not happened to be as much in love as she was capable of being. That love was disastrous to Ted's Kace of mind. He had hoped it would wholly a business transaction. Instead, he had retreated to tho Manor feeling a regular cheat. Ho even

WELL-TOLD STORY WITH LOVE AND MYSTERY AS ITS THEME

the sahib-doctor to the squire. .T—l did not think it wise to givo them: it would only cause trouble." , "Papers," mused the Indian, "that is strnngij 1 know of no papers. What sort of papers can they be?" "Only letters," replied Hilary evasively. '"One is from the doctor to his brother just telling how he camo to adopt a baby which had been left in the jungle, having no idea as to whose it might be. Ho went on to give the baby's name, Angela' Carradale—and the name of her father. The ayah, ho said, had returned to the neighbourhood, and when dying gave him her confession and a few details, enough to establish the child's claim. A curious birth-mark on her shoulder also added to the proof. 'Chintardri's own state-' ment will toll you the history of the crime,' ho added in his letter. 'She is repentant. It is a curious _ story of love, hate and fear.' That is what I read in the letter of the doctor to the squire—but he did not receive it. I—l have it still, and the foreign letter —I suppose tho confession of the ayah."

Darvari's face was inscrutable. He did not ask for reasons, he merely bowed, then —presently spoke again. "Js it not dangerous," ho asked, "to keep those letters? Will not the missiebaba who stole them also destroy them?"

Hilary shuddered. "No, no!" she said sharply. "I dare not. It—it is possible," she gave a hysterical laugh "that I might wish to give them one day—to the General." "That is true," agreed Darvari, "but are they hidden safely till the missie-baba takes them to those who would wonder where she got them—who would question—and who might destroy—her for stealing the secret?" "Th 6 packet is quite safe, locked away in my jewel case in my suit-case," said Hilary impatiently. "No one can find it. No one would dream of it being there." "If the missie-baba is wise she will destroy those papers," repeated Darvari, "but the missie-baba knows best." "What I do not know," said Hilary, "is how you got to know of the ayah's treachery. How you knew where she carried the child. I can't read Hindustani. That letter of tho ayah's is a closed hook to me; I should like to read it." "Bring it to me," said Darvari, "and I will read it to the missa-baba who condescends to teli me her secret—the secret which could destroy her." Hilary was recovering from her alarm now, but she was also heartily wishing she had not confided in this Indian! Tho man spoke very courteously, with tho grave dignity of a Sikh, but there was something indefinable now in his manner which only very distantly resembled a menace. "Very likely 1 will brin<r the letter for translation." she said carelessly. "Not that I believe tho story; the doctor must have been ill, his mind wandering perhaps, when he wrote to the squire." "No," said Darvari, "that is not so. It is true the missie-baba is the daughter of the general, my master. When he sees her he will ask questions, there will be danger. That is what I fear. It is better to have no questions. My master has n son in the young sahib, it would bring sorrow and grief if the missie-baba robbed him of his home. That is why I should be glad if the little missie-baba went far away and did not return. It is a marvel that she has - stolen her mother's face. I myself feared and knew when I saw her."

"The best thing possible will be for Marvel to go away, said Hilary, more to herself than her listener. "It will be better in every way. She is only causing trouble here. I will arrango it." Darvari did not allow his satisfaction to appear, but lie bowed. "If I can servo the missie-baba I will do it," he said. "When the little missie goes, the heart of the young squire sahib will turn to the missiebaba before me as the flowers turn to the sun. All will be well. There will be no more trouble." Hilary gave a nervous laugh. Were these Indians thought-readers ? "That is very satisfactory," she declared. "Good-bye, Darvari." But the Indian had not waited to make any farewells. In some haste he glided away, and, looking up, Hilary saw General Carradale riding up the lane. For the first time she looked at the grim soldier with interest. He was very handsome, but ridiculously stern-looking, as if ho wished to sit in judgment on the world —and condemn it wholesale! There was not the least pity in Hilary's heart for the man who had been made hard by much grief; on the whole she was very well satisfied with a long morning's work. As she went back through the Manor gardens she entirely dismissed the thoughts of her treachery, and dwelt contentedly on her own future. Money was a great power, and how she would enjoy sending some of it on this splendid home! But she would spend it in her own way. Ted would not have the handling of it! She would have more greenhouses built, and concentrate on the growing of carnations. Some of those great trees could be cut down too, and she would prefer a miniature golf course to that untidy wilderness. Hilary was quite radiant by the time she reached the Manor. The squire was talking to Ted in the hall, and came forward to kiss and congratulate her. but there was no great warmth in his welcome, and Ted looked tired and dejected. (To bo continued on Saturday next)