UNDER THE SHADOW

New Zealand Times, Volume LII, Issue 12116, 18 April 1925, Page 13

UNDER THE SHADOW

BY ELIZABETH YORK MILLER [All Bights Reserved.] CHAPTER XV. —Continued. She could find no words to say, but it wasn}t so hard as ehe had thought to-touch his .hand again. She must remember. how kind he had been arid, not trouble too much about that “bought and paid for” remark. However he fell short in other respects, he ■was truthful. She felt that itr must have been this quality in him which had made her father his friend. She wanted to be entirely truthful herself, but somehow ahe could not tell him about seeing David that morning. What was the use of it? “The game?* certainly did not demand such a confession. She marvelled rather humbly, at her own power over this man who had so much power himself. She had made him entirely happy. He expanded under the gentle warmth of her kindness like tropical flowers, open to the sun. The ooarseness, the tendency to bullying, disappeared. On the way home he became a little lachrymose, and only kissed her six times. He was getting humble himself. - His wonderful Enid! She musn’t think he was as bad as he’d probably made himself out to be. Slie f dbeen his ideal from the time her skirts were first lengthened. He wanted to live up to that ideal: he was going to get that peerage or know why," because all honour was owed to her. It wasn’t for himself. What on earth did he care for such things? As for Old *Waya, .lie was settling that property on her. Everything else, besides—in'the event of his .death. To-morrow he’d see about his rill. Day after to-morrow they would be married.

“You haven’t changed your mind again, eh?” “No, indeed. The sooner I’m your wife, Lionel, the better for both -of us,” Enid replied. She spoke as a woman, in the fullness of undertsanding. It would be much better for both of them when she was Lady Hurst. He drew iu a deep sigh, which had a succulent quality. “Good girl! I thought I’d bring you ’round. . . All the same, I wish you weren’t tho proud.” “I’m not proud,” she replied. “Not the least little bit.”

It was nearly midnight when they got hack to Bedford Square, hut Hurst came in with her. Despite his long, tiring day and the to-morrow whicii promised to be just as full, he was reluctant to leave her. In this softened mood she was irresistible ami brought out the very best that was in hum He wanted to show his gratitude for all that she promised, to declare over and over again that the gift of herself far outweighed anything he had been able to do for her.

“I’m tho happy,” he said, with a certain wistful pathos when finally it came time to say good-night. “I'm LioneL” She returned his kiss and a moment .later .the outside door closed .upon, him. For a few seconds she stood alone in the little morning-room where David a-nd she had cried out to ea'ch other that nothing on earth could really part them. She pressed her hands to her face; hut her eyes were dry and tearless. She must never see David again, now;. Fate had been too strong for them—the fate which had chosen curiously for its instrument, a little gnome-like man with a diseased brain., CHAPTER, XVI. " .. ''

David fat alone in the sitting-room of his chambers in the Temple. He had rushed up to London straightway upon hearing the news about Sir Riagenvbrth Be- ans It . seemed very strange—to. be, hack here with this entirely new oritloak upon life. When he left he had scarcely expected to see his old rooms again. He recalled that morbid mood with extreme self disgust. He should never have given up the girl he loved because a doctor tojd him he was going to die in six months. Even then, there had been nothing organic the matter -with him, and had. that supposed piece of shrapnel even penetrated his heart, there was no certitude that it would have killed him. He realised, now, that his attitude had been that of an ill man, and so tliq world might, easily. forgive’ him, but he knew that he could never forgive himself. War-bruised aaa forced after five years of scldiering/to try to pick up the threads of a jtiormal life again, he had fallen an eSsy prey to the insane scientist who/was making a record of mental shoe}/ snd its effect upon the victim. .Even his own doctor had been 'befoolqa by Sir Ridgeworth Be vans. Thy specialist’s standing had been so that it was only the piling up of tragic incidents- which led to the revelation of his owp mental condition. Adrian Wcstmore's death was the culmination, and now the fierce light of investigation blazed upon Bevans, hut it was too late to undo much of the disaster he had wrought. The man who hanged himself rather than wait for the death soon promised him, and Adrian Westmore both lay in their graves. And David Lennox had given up the girl he loved. There had been other tragedies, a woman taking to drink, and a man to morphia, and a father- who had been 1 old that his only son had a fatal disease of the brain which would soon render him imbecile, living until now 'n perpetual torment. There had been two tragedies of the divorce court. Indeed, the list was long, hut it contained aleo instances of great nobility and strength of character, and all of these, as well as the others, had been noted, dissected and dwelt upon in the madman’s book. Very likely ho had been sane when he began that book, but as he said, himself, in the lengthy preface, “Tho borderland between mental health and complete Joss of balance is shadowy, so thin in some cases as might be said scarcely to exist.” _ . ' ■Davui had been to see 'his own doctor that morning, and been told positively that there was nothing whatever the matter with him. The doctor had even joked a little. “It did you any amount of good knocking off work and going into tho country. Just what you needed, in fact. Of course you were one of the sensible ones. It would to you" to do anything tfcspe'rate, and poor Bevan’s experiment in your case, actually did you a world of good. You’ve completely thrown off,„all tho off cots crilm g:is attack,’arid if there ever waa a bit of shrapnel digging its way towards your heart, it’s been assimilated by -he goat-like constitution you’ve developed.” “I'm afraid I was not very sensible.*’’ David replied. “You see, I believed what the man told me.” j

dul ll'-- So did evor-ybt>dy,Dr. | Jackson sasid rimfully.. >•' “Bevans wqis ; a law unto others' ag-’well as to I,;nt. | self. . No one would have dreamod of l disputing his verdict. But in your cane no harm has 'been done, thank God.”

David had left, then. It would have served no purpose to tell the doctor

that his life, had been ruined almost as surely as any of the others. But still there was some hope. Sir Lionel Hurst could not he such a monster that he would wish to marry a girl who loved another man. And Adela?

There he came up against something which had defied or eluded him at every touch and turn. A man cannot jilt two women in succession and look himself in the glass again without wincing.

Yet what had actually happened? He had given Enid her freedom for what ho supposed to he her own good, and it had cost him great suffering. As far as Adela was concerned he was a victim rather than a villain.

On tliis_suit-ry evening he sat with his pipe trying to think things out. His shabby old rooms were very pleasant. Just to be back here gave him a measure of happiness such as he had not enjoyed in all the ordered comfort of Hearts Haven.

To-morrow he must see about beginning work again, and then he must run down to Devon once more and have a serious talk with Adela. It was impossible to make his plea to Sir Lionel Hurst before he had had that talk.

■He tapped out his pipe, leaned back and closed his eyes. The storm which had been brewing all tha afternoon broke a little, but only a few drops of rain fell, and did not relieve the atmosphere.

A knock came at the door, and David started up, wondering who it could be, since scarcely anybody knew he was in London. Then his heart throbbed madly with hope. Could it be Enid? Even as he hurried to the door ho knew there was scant possibility of its being her, hut he was considerably taken aback to discover that his visitor was Adela Montrose.

Mrs Montrose gave David a hard, bright smile and heldtou her hand with a suggestion of coolness in her manner.

“I followed you up to town.” she said bluntly. “May I come in?” He held the door wide, and was conscious that her glance swept the room with disparagement. ; “How fond you are of living in a sort of glorified dust-bin,” she remark ed. drawing off her gloves. She was dressed in grey linen, with a toque of violets crushed down over her smooth dark hair. There was something very smart and elegant about her, realising very vividly the sympathetic Mrs Montrose who had made known her identity to him that day in the train going dawn to Old Ways. Quite a different woman from the Adela of Hearts Harven. At Hearts Haven he had scarcely noticed how beautiful she was. “What’s the matter with the old place?” David asked. “Too many hooks?”

“Too much grime,” she replied. “Oh, it’s not really dirty, and Charles didn’t have time to get a char in. You see I came home on such short, notice.” . q “Home?” Adela echoed. “Yes, tef course I suppose it is your home. Well, what did your doctor say?” “That I’m as fit as a fiddle. Won’t you sit down, Adela?” She was wandering about, looking at the medley of old pipes, jacs,- photographs, and other trophies on the mantelpiece, ‘as though seeking for something. “Presently. It’s all so interesting. I’m so glad you’ve nothing to worry about, David. Didn’t I tell you ail along that ten to one Sir Ridgewortk Bevans was .wrong?” “Yes. you. didn’t, know he was made' Do sit down. "You must be awfully tired after your long journey.” She finally took the chair he offered her.

"“P mnot so very tired,” she said slowly. “I got in about four, had a good “hath and met my sister at the Savoy for dinner. I’ve just come from there, as a matter of fact. You’d he interested to hear about my sister.” •

He wondered what was behind this curious ■ half-sly manner of hers. In one way she was making it quite easy for hint, acting as though there had never been anything approaching intimacy between them. “The sister who called when I was at vonr flat that night?” he inquired. “Yes, I told you she was going abroad. So she did. But her husband died recentlv and she had to come hack. He didn’t leave her anything, and unless the matter can he settled in another way. It’s likely to come into court, lily sister used to he on the stage. She was known as Olive Gilder.”

“Olive Gilder!’} An angry flame 6wept David’s face. “You mean the woman who ruined young Pelwyn?” (To be continued.)