THE HEART OF DIANA,

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12458, 28 May 1926, Page 4

THE HEART OF DIANA,

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

BY

DOROTHY M. GARRARD,

Author of “Iris,” “Roger North cote’s Wife,” ‘‘The Spider’s Web,” otc., etc.

CHAPTER VI. (Continued.) , “I'Ve done it,” Freddy spoke in a half- j whisper. Then suddenly he noticed Sheila's face. It was white, white as a sheet of clean notepaper. Her eyes, full of horror, seemed to look through him. , “Why, Sheila, what’s th© matter?” tho words came through his dry lips. All eoria of horrible possibilities flashed through his brain. “Has anything hap- 1 pened?” ho added slowly. "Where is Derek?”—the girl spoke curtly, almost impatiently. “Someone said he was in here, having breakfast. I must see him.” ( She walked past Freddy and into the room. For the first time the young man saw that in her hand she held an open telegram. “Derek/ she went straight up to her cousin, “this telegra m lias just come. It was addressed to Dad, but, as he was out for the day, I opened it. There is bad news ” for the fraction of » minute she hesitated, “bad newi ” her voice almost a whisper now, “about Diana.” “Yes,” he glanced up at her, but made no attempt to take the piece of paper out of her hand. In truth, so ho felt dully, what worse news than just the confirmation of what fie feared could there be about Diana? “What does it say?” he added, in a tone that was almost indifferent. “It says that last night there was an accident to the London express just outside Aforpetk. Diana was travelling in it and she was injured,” with a rush now the girl hurried out the words. Then her brown eyes grew pitiful “Badly injured it says, Derek. They let Dad know, I suppose, because they found out she had been staying here/' “Diana badly injured!” hardly- hearing her last words Derek sprang to his feet. All his unnatural apathy hod vanished. Diana, his wife, the beautiful girl he had married less than three months before, was hurt. Everything else went out of his mind. “Where has it come from? Who sent it?” Quickly he snatched the crumpled piece of paper out of her hand. “From the cottage hospital at Morpeth. It’s signed by someone called Macfarlane, who, I believe, is the doctor in charge there.” Sheila herself felt a certain relief now that the worst was told. “He wants someone to go over there at once.” She turned to Freddy, still standing in the doorway as if for the first time conscious of his presence. “I've ordered the big car. Of course Derek will go, and, as Dad's not here, .I'd. like to go as well. You'd better come, too, Freddy. You won't mind if we do.” She looked up at Derek, his eyes still fixed on the pencilled message. “No,” the young man spoke half-ab-sently. Of course he must go. What did it matter who went with him? The only thing was to get there. Quickly the three of them went out into the hall. He found Sheila handing him his cap, Freddy helping him on will his coat. The big Austin was already at the door. He climbed alone into the front seat baiid© th© chauffeur, who threw him of sympathy. The two young people settled themselves behind, and a minute later they were off, climbing the stiff, moorland ascent which led from Coar to Alorpeth. It was a bright September morning, a morning when the gorse and heather are a delight to mind and eye. But Derek Aloore saw none of it. Only as the miles crept away he thought of Diana. CHAPTER - VII. It was half-past ten by the time they reached Alorpeth, a straggling town, built of grey stone. Sheila and Freddy, huddled together for comfort in the back of the car, had talked spasmodically,' Derek, his face set and stern, conveying nothing of the tumult which .raged within, sat motionless beside the driver. The cottage hospital, a long, low building of red brick, which showed up strangely against the grey uniformity of the place, stood just beyond the main streets. As the car ran smoothly up its gravelled drive a sudden terror came to Sheila's heart. One of the windows upstairs was shattered, its blinds drawn within. Did they, in hospitals, so she wondered in terrified ignorance, draw down the blinds if a patient died? She stared at the closed window with frightened eyes. Then commonsense came to her aid. Of course it could not be so. Then, as the car stopped at the porch door, she jumped after Freddy out of it. Derek was already ringing the bell. The porter, who opened the door, showed them into a small, barely-fur-nished waiting-room. Two or three minutes later the door opened and a short, middle-aged man with a freckled face, red hair, and a long sandy moustache, came in. “I am Dr. Macfarlane,” he began at once, and ipeaking with a strong Scotch accent, “and one of you gentlemen is, so I understand, the husband of Mrs Moore. It's you, I'll be thinking.” His keen eye took in the tension graven on Derek's face. “Yes,” with a tremendous effort the young man spoke quietly, “she is my

wife. How is she?” The merest tremor showed in his even tone. “She’s had.” The doctor's tone was brusque. “As no doubt you’ve heard, the express ran into a goods train, that ought to have been shunted out of the way, just outside the junction. Mrs Moore was in the first compartment. She’s knocked about all over, naturally, but in particular, to my mind, there’s a piece of bone displaced in the scalp. 3 t’s pressing where it oughtn't to press, lhatv. my diagnosis.” His voice grew a little truculent, as if daring anyone to contradict him. “It means an operation, which should be done at once. But X was obliged to wait for your consent.” Is it absolutely necessary?” again Derek spoke quietly. Only in his inmost heart was the thought of Diana’s beautiful body, marred and disfigured, perhaps a torture. “If she doesn't have it she'll be dead before night.” The little doctor’s voice was curter still. “And who will do it?” Derek took no notice of th© almost open hostility of his tone. “I shall. I'm the only surgeon for 10 miles round. No doubt if there were more time you'd be sending to Edinburgh, or London even, for Sir James This or Sir Thomas That, but as it U, if you want your wife to have a dog's chance, you’ll have to put up with Andrew Macfarlane. You mayn't believe me.” His sharp, little eyes sought the other man's face, as if asking for contradiction. “There's no reason why I should not,” quickly Derek took him up. He felt he hated the little man, but at the same time he trusted him. “And, of course, the operation must take place at once. Can I see her first?” he asked, in a low tone. “If you like; just for a minute while I'm getting things ready.” The doctor looked faintly ashamed of himself. “She won’t know, but you can just peep at her. It's upstairs, the first floor and tho fourth door on the left.” Quickly lie turned and went out of the room, leaving Derek to follow. A minute later the young man found himself upstairs, walking along the white-painted corridor. The fourth door on tho left, so the doctor had said. When he cam© to it he stopped and knocked gently. Then, without waiting for an answer, he pushed the door open and went in. Tho room was almost in darkness. That was the first thing that was apparent to him. Then, as his eyes grew accustomed to thd- shaded light, he saw tho bed, with someone lying still and motionless on it. The white-capped nurse, who sat beside it, looked up at him quickly, then got up and walked away to the window. Diana was lying on her side. Elxcept that a bandage enveloped the top of her head, her face showed no signs of injury. Only it was so still—so absolutely without life or expression. Instinctively it reminded Derek of a beautiful cameo. And unexpectedly, as he stood looking down at her, a lump came into his throat, tears, tears such as he had not shed since, as a small boy he had been sent first to boarding school, came burning to his eyes. How he loved Diana! However she had treated him, how lie loved her! Surely, if only she wero spared to him, something might lie made out of the rest of their lives. He turned quickly as he heard the door open behind him. He coulct not bear anyone to eee his face. “I expect it'll take about an hour,” the doctor's rasping voice came-to-Jiiw. “Tf you'll go down to the waiting room yon shall hear the result as soon as it's possible. We are going to take her straight to the operating room now.” Without another glance at the still figure on the bed. Derek went quickly out of the rcVbmv* His face was composed now, but be •■'kitew ho could not trust him-self. Hg. caught a hurried glimpse of other nur-Stfa. ' two white-coated men carrying a stretcher. Somehow he found his way ;agaiu.- down to the waitingroom. Sheila and Freddy looked up at him with anxious eyes. Then, when he bad told tliepa. the little there was to tell, they * Every minute l * seemed an enternity. The two young people talked occasionally in whispers. Derek walked up and down the room and stood looking out of the window. All the time he prayed passionately in his heart that Diana might not die. At last the hour went bv, ten minutes, twenty minutes more. Then, almeeWunexpectedly, so it had come to the door opened and a nurse She addressed herself directly to* Derek* . “Dr Maetevlane wishes me to inform you that th# operation has been quite successful/*£slie said in quiet, businesslike pressure on the brain which wage there as be anticipated, has been removed and the patient's general condition is as favourable as can be expected.” . For on instant, as sli© turned own no ono spoke. And then suddenly Sheflfl began to cry, loudly, hysterical!}, on Freddy Farquar's shoulder. (To be continued.)