JILL DOESN'T COUNT

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22515, 4 September 1936, Page 18

JILL DOESN'T COUNT

CHAPTER Xl.—(Continued) Instantly Oliver knew why Barbara had sent for him. Viva did not pretend to be'surprised to see him. She was very lovely to-day in her short swagger fur coat, a green hat on her exquisite curls. " Good morning, Oliver," she said. " Good morning, Viva," said Oliver. Ho made as if to pass her, but she put out a hand and prevented him.

" No. Come into the lounge. I wnnt to speak to you." " There's nothing to say," said

Oliver. "That's silly 1 You've married my sister, haven't you? That's a topic for conversation, surely?" The lounge into which she led him was essentially Barbara's, done in reds and creams. The flowers and the flowering plants that stood everywhere would have kept him and Jill in food for a week. Viva took up a crystal box and offered him a cigarette.

" No, thank you," said Oliver. "Oh, Oliver, don't be so silly I" cried Viva; she was actually laughing. " You're behaving as if you were Bed Riding Hood, and I was the Big Bad Wolf. Dear, get it into your head that all is really over between us. I'm half thinking of marrying Randolph Young, anyway. He's the man who's playing opposite me in the new film. I know I lost my temper the day 1 came to see you, and I was simply horribly rude to Jill. I was sorry a minute afterward. I want to apologise." " I will tell her so," said Oliver stiffly.

" No, I want to tell her myself! Oh, 1 behaved disgracefully. But Jill knows 1 never mean a quarter of what I say. And'she's my only sister. Oliver, I've lots of admirers. I don't mind losing one of them, but I can't afford to lose my only sister. Why can't we all be friends after all? She's a dear thing. I'm glad you found out her worth. She's worth a dozen of me any day."

" That's a fact, Viva," said Oliver, and he grinned in spite of himself. " I've only looks," said Viva, "and thev'll lie gone by the time I'm forty." " You will be lovely until you're eighty, and you know it," said Oliver. Viva smiled, a tiny smile of satisfaction.

" 1 hope so," she said with engaging frankness. " I'll admit I'd liate not to be pretty. Oh, Oliver, it is really awfully nice to see you again. And since you've got over that silly ' pash ' for me, well, we can bo friends, can't we? Take 1110 hack to Charnford now. I want to tell Jill that I am sorry.Yes, please, Oliver!" she added, seeing his fnce. " I don't expect she's ready for company, as my, old nurse used to say, but I'm one of the family. Let's go now." Oliver gave in. Quarrelling as Viva' said, was absurd. Hero she was prepared to make amends honourable. Jill would he glad to see her, he thought quite honestly. She and Jill have been pals for life. Viva's right, lie told himself. I suppose' they've missed each other. Just because she did treat me badly, is no reason why we shouldn't meet quite naturally now, surely? As for getting over my stupid " pash " for her, as she puts it, well, as long as she doesn't know that I haven't, I'll be all right. We've been dramatic about this long enough, Jill and I. " I happen to know that it's liver and bacon for lunch," he said. " Then I'll call at my house and collect some stuff," said Viva. " I don't believe I could eat liver, even for the sake of saying I'm sorry to my only sister." They drove round by Lilac Cottage, and Viva ran in and came back with a picnic basket. Even now everything seemed all well to Oliver. He was a man, and he perceived nothing condescending, in Viva's action. Bather it appeared to him jolly and friendly and generous and unexpected. He didn't like liver much either, and he didn't believe Jill did. Sinco Viva was his sister-in-law, and a grossly extravagant one at that, why shouldn't sho produce the makings of a picnic? Picnics gave you a nice friendly informal feeling. As for Jill's forgiveness, you could take it for granted. Jill was the most generous soul alive. Jill was just cooking the liver and bacon when the car arrived. She had had a busy morning. After dispensing, sho had cleaned, dusted and cooked. She was a little dishevelled and there was a smut on her nose when she heard Oliver's car draw up at tlio door. Then came the sound of footsteps and a girl's voice that sho recognised. There was Viva, Viva, lovelier than ever, soignee as ever. Viva, her arms as I full of parcels as a traditional Father Christmas. " Oh, Jill, Jill, darling!" Beforo she knew what was happening, Jill found herself kissed, but carefully so that her soiled overall should not spoil this radiant beauty. " Oh, Jill, you've forgiven me, haven't you?" cried Viva. "Darling, I've . been perfectly miserable. How could I say all those dreadful things to you? But I didn't mean them. You must have known that I didn't! Jill, I've eome to apologise. I'm willing to grovel as much as you want me to. I'm terribly sorry. 1 want to be friends so badly. Look, I've brought my gifts by way of a peace offering." She dropped her parcels on the table —luxuries which the kitchen of the doctor's house in Charnford had never soon, filched from Viva's refrigerator. A brace of young partridges already cooked, a huge tin of potato crisps and eavaire, hothouse grapes, a trifle of foaming cream and sherry which her cook had put already for the evening.*, And there were tho makings of a cocktail, too, and a bottle of hock. Tho liver and bacon became common, plebian food, meant only for the kitchen. "Jill, have you gone dumb?" cried Viva. " Aren't you going to forgive me r" " Wouldn't it bo nice if we could all lie friends again, Jill?" said Oliver. His eyes were very bright. He was looking happier than ho had looked for weeks. "Tho great reconciliation scone!" said Viva. Jill, standing there, had a not altogether unreasonable desire to throw all the good things lying on the table in hor sister's face. If they were talking histrionically of drama, then she herself belonged to the rough and tumble variety. To throw that trifle straight at Viva's pink-and-n hite beauty would have afforded her ecstasy. She knew her sister too Well to believe for 0110 single moment in the abject apology. But Oliver did believe in it. And ho looked so glad. How could she refuse the olive branch? " Very well, Viva," she said steadi! y"Then we're friends again." "Splendid, darling!" said Viva. "Where's the dining room? Here, take the partridges, Noll!" Certainly sho turned what t would have been a very dull meal into a joyous repast. She was so utterly, so 1111quenchably gay. Oliver hardly noticed that Jill was silent. Viva filled up every pause in the conversation. She described the new picture, funny things that hAd happened during the shooting of it, an interview she had given, the vagaries of her maid who had alwavs lived with tho best families. "She

By PHYLLIS HAMBLEDON Author of "iiVouth Takes the Helih," etc.

A ROMANTIC STORY OF RIVAL SISTERS

CHAPTER XII

(COPYRIGHT)

didn't think I was 'quaite quaite,' " drawled Viva, "until she found 1 paid five guineas for iny.pyjamas." The food and the wine were so good, the cigarettes that they smoked afterward, had a luxurious flavour. I'or a brief while Oliver could forget the surgery, could forget that the world held pain and sickness. Viva had always had that effect upon him. She could take him away from the stern realities. How sweet she was! He was Jill's faithlu! husband, he told himself, but he could still be Viva's friend. Only one warning he had before she left, a warning that he disregarded. Her car came to take her to the studios. She had a chauffeur now, an elderly man with a reserved and quiet face. "When are you coming to see Barbara again Y" she said as Oliver helped her into the driver's scat. "1 shall not go and see Barbara again," said Oliver firmly. "There is nothing whatever wrong with her." "Nor'" queried Viva soitlv. Silo said no more, but there was an enigmatical teasing look on her face as she drove away. She rather thought he would see Barbara again quite soon. Viva had certain claims on Barbara, which would not lightly be disregarded. I'll tell her to send for Oliver again on Friday, she decided. After that — wu'll seel

viva's bevknge Jill was almost happy again. Oliver seemed so much better. He was tackling the practice with a new verve and energy. He whistled as he went about the house. He ate well. He went out to the car so briskly every morning, though the weather was bad, and the waiting room full each night of the sick and weary. I believe he really was fretting over all the trouble with Viva thought Jill innocently. I believe now the quarrel has been patched up, lie can go on again. Why was 1 so unwilling? She hasn't been here again. Why was I frightened? Anyway there's hardly a day when her picture isn't in the paper. She has arrived. She has umpteen admirers. What could she want with an unknown doctor, in a shabby car with a shabby wife? And Oliver was so unfailingly kind to her that there were time's when her heart beat high with hope. Perhaps after all, love would have its way. He was happy, then it must be she who was making him happy. Her laughter, rang out again; instead of being cross and nervy, she could bring to every domestic trouble' a quaint litt'io quirk of humour. She knew the patients, they knew her. The doctor's missus was a friend to the poor, and sick. It's going to be all right, thought Jill, all right! And once or twice Oliver kissed her fiercely arid hungrily, holding her slender body tightly in his arms. So unused to love she was, how could she guess that in imagination he was kissing Viva, and not herself. How could she guess that his kindness to her hid his remorse for his treatment of her, that now lie was seeing Viva two or three times a week, and that he was cheerful and happy because she was a drug he so desperately needed. On the Friday following his first visit to Miss Barbara Barnes, that young lady had again sent for him on the pretext that the lumbago had now become sciatica. And again Viva had been there, smoking cigarettes in the crimson and cream lounge, awaiting him. At first he had told himself that, if B.arbara Barnes insisted on his attending her, he had no right to turn down a lucrative patient. Afterward he hardly thought at all. Barbara faded into the background. Viva worked now in the early mornings, but in the afternoon she would be alone. The maid who was used to the very best families admitted him. At first Viva was coolly and ceremoniously friendly, inquired for Jill's health, said she was so glad the practice was beginning to "do" again, that anyway he was behaving splendidly. Then there was no more talk of Jill nor of the practice, but only of Viva and of Oliver.

Other men hung about her, but she did not tell him of them. Three times a week she kept that afternoon hour free for him. Her lip curled, when she saw how easily she had got him again. I'll pay you out, she had said to Jill, in the language of nursery days. Oh, yes, she was going to pay her out all right! I'll have Oliver, siie thought, and when I'm tired of him, .1 can go. He deserves it. He'had treated me abominably. They both have. I'll teach them both a lesson. I don't forget. It was lucky for her that Gerald Greer had gone to Hollywood in search of a comedian. When ,he returned, Oliver would have to disappear. Viva knew on which side her bread was buttered these days, but she had confidence in herself. Love might be a business, but just at present she could forget the business part of it. So the autumn dwindled into winter, and with every meeting Oliver drifted nearer danger. He still told himself, however, that Viva was no more than a friend, that he was Jill's faithful husband, that it was, in fact impossible for him to be anything else. While little Miss Croft in Charnford rubbed her hands with satisfaction at the reinstatement of her beloved doctor, while Miss Henderson at the haberdashery sang ihis praises, there were people who "watched his progress with brooding eyes. The Grahames had counted confidently on a new car at Christmas, as the result of capturing . most of Oliver's practice. The fact that he was getting it back again was, of course, more than annoying. The pendulum of public opinion had swung round in favour of Oliver. There were some who said frankly that they thought he had been punished unjustly, there were others, that at any rate lie had paid for his fault, and that bygones ought to bo bygones. ■" Drat it," said Dr. Grahame irritably to his wife one morning at breakfast, " it's a pity 1 haven't been to prison I It seems the smart way of building up a practice.'' " It doesn't pay in this world to bo respectable," snapped his wife. " It certainly doesn't: That .fellow Vereker's as cock-a-hoop as if he had rover beei\ sentenced. 1 saw him yester- [ day down in the Loom Lane district when I was visiting tho Stevensons. There are some good houses round there. I suppose film folk like something spectacular in the way of doctors. They're sensation-mongers, all of them. Of course. Vereker's wife used to be on the films." " Yes," said Mrs. Grahame slowly. " but —" " But what?" said the doctor. " Oh. nothing much." Mrs. Grahame nibbled a piece of rusk slowlv. She had been going to say. But M rs. Vereker isn't in the least like a film person. She had thought better of it, however. An idea had come into her mind, and she did not always share her ideas with her husband. Jill Vereker certainly wasn't like a film person at all. In her shabby clothes, a basket over her arms, prodding cod in tho market, or frowning anxiously because sugar had gone up a halfpenny, she looked plain and small and insignificant. And Mrs. Grahame's maid was a friend of Jill's charlady. Mrs. Grahamn knew quite a lot about the Vereker's menage in consequence. And she know that Jill cleaned and cooked and mended, that she dispensed and washed up, was a regular household drudge in faet. No, that didn't go with tho screen, nor with the talkies.

(To bo coiitin iad daily)