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[Published be Special Arrangement.]
By FLORENCE HOPE, Author of “The Trials of Madge Moberley,” “Tangled Threads,’’ “The Brown Rosary,” etc., etc. (Copyright.) CHAPTER Xni-THH SOUVENIR CROSSES. “I Khali not be in when Mr Grirnshaw calls. I’m sony you’ve met him. Jack," said Phvllis an a low voice. “Not be in? Nonsense! Of course, you’ll bo in. You must b© civil to a man who, has been awfully good to met and, of course, it was for your sake. I’m not sneb a fool as not to know that, Phvl," answered Jack. Agatha thought Phyllis turned even whiter. She looked in real distress. “Jack, you don’t understand. I can't endure Mr Grirnshaw,” sho-said huskily. “Oh, Phyl, don’t give way to fads and fancies, and do-remember he can do .a great deal for me. He seems to he in with a lot of influential men—stage managers, editors, and the sort of got I want to get in with. He might do .no end to help me. and you must be civil—that’s all I ask. I don’t suppose you need see much of him; I won’t ask you to. I suppose he has chosen to make love to you? Well, if he knows you are engaged to Hatherley it will stop anything of that kind, of course; so,. really, vou heed not mind. Don’t be disagreeable, Phyl, just as my bad luck seems to be changing. Mr Grirnshaw told me be would See if he could net got my play read by Alldngton. Just think of that.” The young follow’s checks wore flushed. his eyes sliiningw ith excitement and anticipation. How could Phyllis, then, have the heart to stand in his way? “Well, as you say, I need not see much of him ■ indeed, 1 dbn’t see that I need meet him at all. I’ll dp my best to ho civil if I have to see him—that’s all I can promise. Jack. Good-night, x m tired,” was what Phyllis allowed herself bo say, and went to bed feeling as if life were sometimes a bit too much for her-. It waa full of difficulties. Jack was earning notliing. and money was needed eo badly. She must get another and. a good situation, and yet she felt she ought not to leave her brother. It would break up the little home. for. ot course, he could not remain with Mi's Darrens;. and small and simple though it was it was a home—a real one that belonged to the three of them, and was so different from lodgings and tiresome or objectionable landladies. Then. Geoff going! Ah! she dared not think ot rim.', and Dare Grirnshaw appearing again on the scene! . . Phyllis resolved not to speak of that to Geoff: it would only worry him just as ho was going away, and spoil lunar last hours together. She would try to see as little of the man as possible, and might contrive to be out or engaged when he should call. , , , , This happened three days later, when something else occurred, too. Phyllis was typing a manuscript of her Brother s. and Jack was dictating to her when the electric bell of their little -1 rent dour tinkled. Phyllis jumped up to answer it, and came back .to the sitlmgroom with a small parcel that looked like a jeweller’s box. , , . , “Just a moment. Jack, she said, as she began to undo the paper wrapper. “I must see it—it is something that Geoff has had made for us to wear whilst wo are apart. ■ Oh 1 look! Aren't they sweet?” ,
She disclosed in a little bed or cotton wool two gold Maltese crosses. One was engraved on the ■ back with * Phyllis and 1 tro date of their engagement; the other "Gooff,” with the same date, "What sentimentality! I should hare thought Hatheriey was too sensible. And so you are to wear thoie trifles always, r suppose. 10 show that you are bound to one another, is that it?” said. Jack. “Yes; and if—of course, it can’t he. hut if on© of us should wish the engagement at an end, the cross is to lie sent as a sign. No word, no explanation—it will be enough. That is Geoff’s idea. It sounds ’ tragic, so irrevocable, the thing at an end without words, just the little cross to tell the story.”
Phyllis brushed her hand across her eyes; her voice shook with a sob. “But it won't happen; Geoff is true as steel; and so are you, Phyl, so don’t he silly. I say. there’s another ring at the'bell. filial! I go?” .said Jack. “Yes; hut lot me get to my room first/' was the reply, as Phyllis made her escape. She had left the box with the crosses on the table and open, so that when Jack returned, ushering in his visitor—Dare Grimshaw—hia ■ glance fell upon the dainty trifles, tender little souvenirs. “Jewellery, by Jove I Are you making presents to your best girls, Wentworth?” said Dare, coolly examining the crosses. “Not X. It is a bit of sentiment between my sister and Geoff Hatheriey, the man she is engaged to, who is off to South Africa next week,” and he told the little story as Phyllis had told it to him.
“Not a tad idea, don’t you know,’’ said Grimshaw. thoughtfully; "does away with foolish explanations, excuses, lies, perhaps; a cross returned, love is dead, the thing is over—raost sensible.’* He was examining very closely the names and dates_ on the back, holding each little cross in his hand, a curious look of intense interest in his face. “A cross ertumed—and all at an end.” lie murmured. "I see!” “Perhaps 1 had better put them away, j Phyllis might nor care about other | people examining them. Excuse me. Mr j Grimshaw,” said Jack, suddenly feeling J
eelt-reproachf ul at talking of 1115 sister s concerns. “By all means.. Don’t tell her I saw them; she’s sensitive, and might be vexed, so say nothin# about it. Wontworth. . No ns© ruffling her feelings. When do you eay Hatheriey starts? By the way, may I smoke?” Dare sat down, and drew out his cigarcase, handing it first to Jack. “On. the 28th. Ho goes from Tilbury at 13 noon. I suppose Phyllis will want to boo him off so I Mial! probably take her. •‘friiat'a Saturday week,” remarked Grimshaw, and taking off a. gold pencil that hung on his watchchain, h© scribbled something on his shirt cuff. “To remember not to come and look you up on that date, a© you’ll be out-By-the-bye, Tvo only dropped in now to ask you to dine with me at the Cavour to meet a man who may b© useful for you to know. _ Will To-morrow night suit you—eight o’clock?” “Delighted: it’s awfully good of you, Mr Grimshaw,” said Jack, gratefully. “Not at all: I want to- do anything I can for you. You seo I helped you first for your sister’s sake, hut now it s wholly for your own. Then you’ll come. 1 can’t stav now. but I thought it would save time to call. Till to-morrow then. Dare Grimshaw rose to go. and gave another glance at the bos containing the crosses, but the lid was closed, with the name of the jeweUer printed pmmly upon it. Shaking Jack’s hand, Grimshaw left without ever inquiring for Phyllis. There was nothing he left unexplained, unthought of, and as ho went down the stone stops he stopped to write wjuaetliing €IBO on his cu 6, which happoned to he the address of the jeweller who had designed the souvenir crosses. (To be continued.)
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 8733, 15 May 1914, Page 9
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1,273DRIVEN BY FATE New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 8733, 15 May 1914, Page 9
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