DRIVEN BY FATE

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 8737, 20 May 1914, Page 10

DRIVEN BY FATE

I’UIJLISHED 3T SPECIAL AnnANGEMENT.j

By FLORENCE HOPE,

Author of “The Trials of Madge Mcberloy,” “’Tangled Threads,’’ ‘The Brown Rosary.” etc., etc. (Copyright.) CHAPTER XVII.—GEOFF RECEIVES A VISITOR. “It is impossible! I can’t believe it, there’s been some mischief made, foul p.ay.’ Oh 1 I wish 1 had stayed with taem !” Agatha Lorrens uttered the above remarks in a state of agitation. The letter, short and most unsatisfactory, teat had upset her so, lay in her lap, ■,where it had fallen from her trembl“Hg lingers. What on earth is the matter? and pray who do you wish you bad stayed ~,i instead of coming with met I i ink you are most rude and very nnii.nd,” said her companion, Elinor Haralyn, who had become devoted to ‘•Nurse Agatha,” as she was called by her patients. ‘‘Listen to this. I can’t keep it to myself, I’m in real trouble. You’ve heard me speak of Phyllis and Jack ,Wentworth. Well, I left Phyllis engaged to he married to a certain Dr. fifathorley, who went out to Johannesburg to take a practice. They were devoted to one another, real, true, honest lovers, with no thought '•of any other man or woman in the; '■world; now comes a letter from Phyl-' l : s, forwarded on to mo from Biairitz.” Agatha read aloud in a voice that •Was unsteady from emotion, — Grand Hotel du Monde, Paris. Dearest Agatha,— ■ You will be surprised to hear that! “ I was married yesterday, by special license, to Dare Grirashaw. Wo saw Jack safe at Ventnor before wo camo here. It lias ail been such a rush that I scarcely know yet what has happened, or whore I am. It will bo no use writing here, _ as we are going on somewhere else immediately. I wish wo could come to Biarritz, then I should sec you, but 1 don’t know —Dare is uncertain. I would like to have stayed at Ventnor to be near Jack. Anyway, I am married to a rich man who can do everything possible for Jack. Ho got very ill after you left; we missed you dreadfully, dear. It was all at an end between Geoff and me. I couldn’t, somehow, tell • you; it hurt too muon. If you are another man’s wife you forget the other, or have to try to, so it was better to do what was .best for Jack. You understand ? —Always your friend, ' Phylhs. P,S. —X’n write when I know where we ‘are to stay. Send me a long letter then. “There!” exclaimed Mrs Lorrons, “what can you make of thatr Why. ;did they break with one another—those two? It seems as if it were 'his fault; of course,' it is always the man—brute I” , . ~ “Sho has soon consoled aerseu* I said Misb Hamlyn. e < “Sho fwill never console herself*Phyllis is the sort of woman, who loves once and for always, and she’s done fir herself now. Married 1 Married 1” cried Agatha, beginning to pace tlie room in her trouble and distress. “Wbiit sort of man is tins Dare (Uhimshaw.?” inquired the other w«J plan , interested in the story. ' “I don’t know. 1 can’t moke out; he has influence over both Jaok and fcis sister, 1 but Phyllis always declared she couldn’t bear him. 01 course, it la for: Jack’s sake; one_ can see that. What a pity we’ve missed them at Biarritz if they go there.” “Weil, as I’ve made up my mind to. go out to Johannesburg and visit pay cousins there, you will bo abie to see the man who lias jilted your friend, and hear his story. That may Ltilp,” said Miss Hamlyn. “Then you are really going?” “Yes, I’m tired of Europe, and want to try Africa; besides, I want to fee these" relatives of mine. You’ll come with me, Nurse Agatha, dear?” “Why, yes, I’ll come, thore’d he no, use my going back to London with' Jack at Ventnor, and Phyllis career-; iug round with a newly-wedded hnsiband. I’ll see Dr Haitherley; I’ll know the truth at any rate,” saidj Agatha, forcibly. . j I And so it was that a tall, beautiful [woman in nurse’s dress called at Dt •Fenton's house one day and asked toi see Dr Hatherley. 1 “Not in,” said the hoy who ansvrer'jcd the door, a pert little urchin in buttons. H j “When will he bo at home?” deimanded Agatha. > ' “Don’t know. Step iriside and I*ll Ijnquire.” Agatha stopped over the threshold, and as she did so a lady came out of a room on the right of the door. , “Dr Hatherley will not ho in until Itbis evening,” she said. “Can. I give 'him any message? I am Mrs Fenton.”

She was a woman, past fifty, with ,a careworn face, and shabbily dressed. jAgatha liked the look of her, and inIstinotivcly was sorry for her. She showed trouble in her face. “I am an old friend of Dr Hatheriey’s; at least, I know him fairly well. ; : He ihelped me,” said Mis Dor runs, simply. “He helps everyone. Oome in and talk to me, won’t you?” And Mrs Fenton drew her visitor into a room ■that was a medley of library, draw Jigjroom, and work-room. 1 “It’s untidy, I know; but you will .excuse it. Do sit down. Jiow tell .me, .please—Ate you Phyllis?” said ■the doctor’s wife, bluntly. I “I? Oh, no! Then lias ho told you about Phyllis?” answered Agatha. “Jso, ho has never mentioned her, but I know there is a woman called Phyllis whom he loves. He talked of her all the time he was ill. Didn’t you know he got fever and was very bad indeed?” said Mrs Fenton. Agatha shook her head, wondering suddenly whether this fever bad affected Hatherley’s brain, and, being queer, he bad broken off his engagement with Phyllis. ■ “He is quite well now, you know—as strong as ever,” continued the doctor’s wife. “Only—well, I may say it to you, I suppose, his spirits are had. He has lost the bright, hopeful look ha had, and the energy, and I think the determination to get on. I am anxious about him —very ; but you will See him this evening, and understand him better than I —a comparative etranger—car..”

“When may I come again?” inquired Mrs Lorrens.

“Any time after eight he is sure he in. Shall I tell him you called?”

“No—say nothing. Let me be a surprise. He won’t be displeased li> see mo,” said Agatha, smiling. “I’m not afraid of that, though yen -ell me you are not ‘Phyllis,’ ” was the reply. “No; but I am her great friend, and Geoffrey Hatherlev’s. too. ■ There w something I don’t Understand that seeds explaining, only sometimes explanations come too late, and then—taut is dreadful!” said Agatha. “1 |s!'.all see you again, Mrs Fenton —this (evening.”

She rose to go, and went out into' 'the burning sunshine thinking deeply.) At a quarter past eight she was back! 'at the house, .and this time was shown', 'into a dingy consulting-room, a littkj Ip lace that Hatherley kept to himself,, hot caring to share Dr Fenton’s more' luxurious room. • j Sho did not give her name, and ICeoff came in hurriedly, for he was jiery tired, and sorry to have to sea another patient. ' , “Well?” said Agatha, holding out (her hand, for she did not believe this |man had been false to her friend. How ill ho looked!—that was her first thought—then “how hopeless 1” “Mrs Lorrens I What a surprisel”; j She gave a short explanation of the (reason for her being in Johannesburg; 'then went to the point as was her. '■wont. - | , “1 hear your engagement is broken' 'off with Phyllis, Dr Hatherley.” “Yes; hut need we speak of it, Mrs' lorrons? I prefer not.” , “Oh, but I must. I am her friend.! I want a reason for your behaviour.! Surely 1 have the right to ask for .that?” said Agatha, warmly.

' “It was not I who broke the engagement—surely you know that. She sent mo back the cross—you knew the compact between ns, the two crosses that wo were each to wear whilst we were faithful to one another; but if either of us ceased to care or preferred someone else, then the cross was to b© sent hack. Hers, witli my name engraved on it—came to me, she sent it, registered,, so that there should be no doubt of my receiving it. It came just as 1 bad written to her tolling of my long illness, and why I had been silent so long. It came ” —his voice broke huskily—“at a time' when I longed most for a kind, loving word from her. I was homo-sick, weak from fever, longing for my little girl, and I opened the letter to find—the cross I My letter to her was never posted.” Agatha Lorrons put her hand over her eyes; she could not bear to look at the anguish in his face, and the sound of his voice was heartrending. 11 Why did sho do it, Mrs Lorrens?” “ 1 don’t know, 1 can’t understand, and you—did you send her back your cross?" she stammered.

“No, why should I? I have it here —always, night and day, because there is still no other woman to me but her."

His hand touched his breast, where the little cross lay. “And yet you know sho belongs to another,” said Agatha, involuntarily. “What! Who is the man? Tell me!" Geoff Hatherley sprang to his feet; ,tho blow had fallen. “But you have heard—you know of her marriage to that Mr Grimshaw,” cried Agatha. , “ Dare Grimshaw! Good Godl”

“ Oh, you didn’t know —I wish ” “I should have had to know sooner or later. How sho must suffer 1 My 'little girl belonging to that man. AVhy didn’t sho write and tell me all that [was troubling her. She’s married him for her brother’s sake. for Jack. Married 1 Oh, my Godl” “He must have used strong measures to induce her to break with you,” said Agatha. “Desperate ones. I can’t rest till I know all. I shall go back to England,” declared Geoff. “Oh, no! no I What good could it 'do? She is his wife now—besides, they are travelling about. You could 'not see her, and ” “But there’s Jack. I can dig the truth cut of him, I suppose.” “So has been very ill. Phyllis wrote and told me that they left him at Ventnor in the hospital there. Dr Hatherley. would you like to see her letter to me?”

“Yes, yes, it will tell me something, surely.” And it did, for Geoff could read between the lines the misery and despair of the girl who had given him up; also what was a mystery to him, the fact that she believed him to be faithless to her. What did she mean by those words; “It was all at an end between Geoff and me. I couldn’t somehow tell you, it'hurt too much.”

What was it she meant? “May I keep this, Mrs Lorrens?” ]ie asked, with the letter in his hand.' “Yes. if you wish; but what good? What good* is it for anything, now Phyllis is that man’s wife?” “I must know the truth—that’s all I want, nothing else matters —now,” was the answer, and when Mrs Lorrens had gone, Geoff Hatherley’s arms fell across the writing-table, and his head dropped upon them. Hard, drysobs broke from the man, sobs that hurt, and that would have wrung Phyllis’s heart with agony to hear. But he was alone, desolate in his misery.

(To be continued.)