"Jack Trevor's Sweetheart."

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIC, Issue 13638, 4 July 1908, Page 1 (Supplement)

"Jack Trevor's Sweetheart."

Kittv 'Trevor ' smfled brightly as she came across to the little group, prepared to welcome her brothers sweetheart wnu open, arms and heart. Suddenly her eyes fixed .thenuehe* upon the- girl. She. came to a_deud btam The smile faded from her face ami an almost horrified expression took its place. She • stood thus a second or more, long enough, indeed for everyone in the room to notice, the strange transformation and detect its cause. Then by a visible etforo of self-command she joined these awaitintr her. ... Jack Trevor regarded his sister with a. look, of unmistakable annoyance. It was the occasion of Edith f'ro<nwood's first visit to his people, and he had' naturally been desirous that they bhoul take kindly to her. He .was congratulating liimself tiiat event*? were moving in this direction, when Kitty entered and clouded the brightness by ber strange behavious, rendered still stranger by the fact that she had never been Edith before, as far as he knew. Chilled by his sister's cool greeting, his sweetheart,. diffident by deposition, -hrftTik into herself immediately. Her hitherto light-hearted conversation dropped to the shortest and quietest remarks allowable by politeness. Her cheerfulness had vanished, and all the kindness of Mrs. Trevor and Jack's younger sister, Grace, were powerless to rtstore it. On the way home the girl sat in one corner of the apartment, her chin res'ing upon her hand, gazing steadfastly out into the black night. "What's the matter, Edie? asked Jack. The trains returning to town were nearly empty, so tliey had a compartment to themselves. "Nothing," she answered, a mile unsteadily. „ . . f "But there is something, he pelleted. "And it isn't fuir to keep me in ignorance of anything tjhat s troubling yon, is it?" "Well, it's foolish of me to remember it," she 6aid, after a pause, "yet I can't help it. Your sis.er seemed positively afraid, of me." . "It's only your fancy, girl, he laughed, drawing her to him. " Why on earth should she be afraid cf you?" he *"ent on, deciding not to let her know that he also had seen enough to make him angry, and eager for an explanation from the offender. . , ~ »Ah, why?" echoed the girl. 'I don't know." . . "You had never seen her before, had you?" "No." "Then yon may rest assured its merely a trick of your imagination. Even sapposing there were grounds for your suspicion, her unfavourable glances could not alter the fact that yon were just the dearest little girl in the world to me," he avowed, soothingly. " I don't care—why should you?" "Perhaps I oughtn't to, dear, slie replied. "But I've got so few people of my own, and I had expected so much from yours. Can't yon understand? "At any rate the matter was all right ■with you, and Grade," declared Trevor, pHII bent on cheering her up., "Yes, I loved your mot 1 "• I saw her," said Harding's d "But for her the-'Tit the bad an 79 been utterly wr the "Then a cipher?' he f;ied, taking one of her hands. . For answer her fingers closed tightly over his, and minutes elapsed before either spoke again. He knew, however, fW. she was still pondering on the e.pkode of the afternoon. "You really don't know why your sister should dislike me?" she presently resum-

ed. "I haven't tie l^ast. idea, Edie. T6nt if; possible that- you're freeing about a. pnntakm impression?" >■ "Not at aU bkely," ehe resisted. with ft shake of her headJ u >To girl would look at another as Kate looked at me wi h some deep reason. I wish I knew what it all meant." . "Look here, sweetheart," exclaimed Trevor, gazing intently into the girl s troubled face. w I. can't bear to see you like this. Promise not to worry any more, and I'll 'see Kit and find out the meaning of her conduct, if it has any. "If only you would " "I certainly will. I'm determined not to have you upset in this way without a cause. Now kits me, and tell me yon have chosen an early clay for our wedding." "I have something to confers before \re dare talk of a wedding-day." slie almost whispered, shrinking away from htm "I ought to have told you before I consented to becone your wife, but I hadn't the courag" . ri "' 11 Something to " see?" repeated Trevor, dreading whr *y behind her ominous words. "Tel" ..a now!" "Not to-night— l -'an't. It might parttw, Jack," she & ■' in a barely audible voice, coining ne. , ! Igam and hiding her face against hifi Mulder. "Peihaps IH you to-m** 'T or the next day. He kissed her idly, but urged her no more, though her' words filled him with an indefinable une'. sines©. A IL

Jack TrevorT'T ceraiy "free-lance." nse next morning infVnding to rnn out to his mother's place at Richmond and interview his sister concerning her queer conduct the previov - day.The young' lady, animated by a similar d»ire for an interview, presented herffjt at his- rooms before he had finished breakfast, having come by. an early train. "I'm ple-ised to have caught you in," she began! "I .wrmt to speak to yon about the girl, yoa brought- home yesterday." " Wellwa£ his non-committal com- , 7 l. v " How lonsr have yon known her. "About twelve months." "Are 3. hi Mre her name is'.. Wi h Gre«nwo<xl!'' . " I only have her word for it_. was the sarcastic retort. Then, ppfihinj his -Wt- back from the table and the tm-, finished breakfast, "I object to ba crossexamined in this style. Yon favoured the K irl -with a very peculiar reception yesterday, and shi is greatly upset- about itI should bA obliged if you would exv. hat I'm b re for," averted Kitty. " I was uiore surprised than anything eke when I saw her. and even yon ■would hav* been in similar circumstancfs. I'm eorrv I; I was rude to her. "You were, then. But you talk as if you knew £er." Trevor started at thfe contradiction in the statements of the two girls. " Su el" he queried. "Quite:* She has sonie terrible of +OU inujt have the rnforjnatio before you can marry her.' - " T '' d-cide that point- for myeeJt, renfcvrK i £ck, curtly. "Will you be go>od enough to tell me what your attitude toysfff har • . "Ife means that ehe was a patient m itha Si Phillip's Nursing Home under the name of Hilda Beaumont," flashed fr„ P lr the girl, nettled at her brothers he interposed. "It must iav« been 6omeone else. You know how , alike people frequently are." " It isn'X nonsense," . sha protested, stoutly a More than that, she was in delirium *fid continually raving about a murder x a accused herself of having commit t- It was one of the cases which led toc-v-S giving up nursing. It was —irrible! I shall never forget Kittv! Think, what you are Having. It couldn't have heen Edie!" Tie «mnk into a chair, and hid his white, bloodless face in his hands. "I have something to confess before we daro talk

of a wedding-day." These -words, spoken by the girl he loved, rushed back on hiin

fraught witli terrible meaning.

Kitty stood beside him, frightened at the result of the revelation she had made. She -was seized with an unwise impulse to'admit that, there might _be a doubt as to. the identity of her patient, but a second's consideration showed her that to soften the blow by such ail action would be sheer cruetly, for, in reality, the knew that there w;ui not a shadow of doubt.

" Kiity, I hope you haven't spoilt my life," said Trtvor, despairingly, rising abiuptlv and pacing the room. " But you would rather have known, Jack?'' site asked doubtfullv.

" I don't know," was the agitated answer. "1 was hapier than 1 ever hoped to be, and I think I'd rather have lived with lier in ignorance than lose her. Now — : —Oh, 1 must see her!" he exclaimed.

May I come wit'n \ou I'm not against her, Jack, and she might find it easier to speak to me than to you." He gave a sign of consent. They descended together to the street, and a hansom soon set them down at a block of flats in which Edith lived. .She did typewriting at home and out; unfortunately this was one of her out days. Trevor's heart sank at the discoveiy that a whole day must be lived through with this awful burden on his-mind. He left-a message, then returned to his own apartments to drag through the weary hours as best he could.

At last evening came, and with it th girl.

" I received your urgent message and have come to report myself," she said, lightly. Trevor greeted her, then turned awav utterly unable- to broach his distasteful business on the heels of so artless a speech. The movement puzzled Edith, and she looked inquiringly at her lcvem' sister anticipating trouble. "Perhaps I can explain matters better than Jeck," said Kitty, hastening to smooth over the difficulty of the situation. "I was once a nurse at the St. Phillip's Nursing Home, and bring very vividly to my recollection a patient who was under my care there." "Under your care?" Kitty, watching for it. saw the girl's consternation. After that the went- on n ore sure of her ground. "Yes. She was in a high fever, and suffering from mental-breakdown. Yon . ntst attribute my rudness yesterday to iijur striking resemblance to that girl. Her name was Hilda Beaumont—she was an actress." "An actress!" ejacnlaled Trevor, swinging rouuu to his si.srer. Then to his sweetheart he said, "Kit has some wild idea that you and this person are the same." " She is right." was the girl's replv. "Edie!" "It is qui'.e true, Jack," she alfirmed. "I ought to have confessed all this before." "And the rest is true?" lie demanded, hoarsely, feeling that his life's happiness depended on her answer. "The rest," she reiterated, somewhat mystified. " When in the home you were delirious, raving at times about a murder vou had committed. I think it was—someone's husband you fancied you had killed," Kitty laboriously continued. "And you believed even this of me, Jack?" cried Edith, pietouslv, stretching out her arms to her lover," a world of misery in her beautiful eyes. "Believed me to be a mnrderees!" ; " I don't believe it!—l can't!—l I wont!" he exclaimed, disjointediy. "The knowledge of this phase in your life was forced upon me—l didn't, want to know it." A look of pain settled on his sister's face at this unjust complaint. " I'H go," she said. "You'll fed less embarrassed if " "No—no," objected Edith. "But I must," insisted Kilty. "I've nothing else to say, and mother will be anxious about me." ' "We can easily relieve her .anxiety," other answered. Then,, with the greatest apparent irrelevance, she said", "I want you both, as a very great favour, "to come and see 'The Sacrifice' at the Imperial Theatre." Trevor and his sisfer were astonished by the suggestion at such a crucial juncture. . " The first act would be over before we could get there; besides, I'm in no mood for theatricals," Jack opposed. "And it's already late for me—l have to go to Richmond," Kitty reminded lier. " Can't you stay with me for the night? Surely you're not—afraid of me?" quiveringly. "We could inform you mother of the arrangement by telegraph." "Yes, I suppose I could," Kitty hesitatingly agreed, touched by the yearning note of the request. " You haven't seen ' The Sacrifice,' Jack?" asked Edith. " No." " I "played the part of Beatrice Marsland for six months shortly before we came acquainted. If you and Kitty will watch the second act with particular attention to this character, there will be no necefsity for me to go into the painful details of the delirious ravings. 1 don't feel equal to—explanations. It isn't much to ask yon, considering what is at 'stake, is it, Jack?" she said, pleadingly. Trevor signified his readiness to do anything, which would lead to a solution of the mystery, so the three set out for the theatre, sending a telegram to Mra. Trevor on the wav. in. . Haying managed to obtain a vacant box, they were •in time to see the curtain go up on the second act of "The Sacrifice." Playgoing London was ringing with the praises of this powerful drama. The heroine, Beatrice Marsland's idolised , sister, is married to a brutal husband. He is cruel to her in a fashion only possible to an educated ' man. Avoiding ; physical violence, he takes a savage" delight in the infliction of mental sutfering. The anger of Beatrice, who lives with her sister, is ultimately lashed into' rebellion, and goaded beyond endurance by the sight of his refined tortures, she kills the man in a moment of uncontrollable passion. After this terrible climax comes the great scene in which remorse seizes the murderess. The Trevors were held spellbound by its fascination. Kitty thought that she was one of a vast throng looking at a mere portrayal of human grief and passion. She felt rather that she was intruding upon the privacy of this girl, whose anger was now slowly dying down at the realisation of .hc-r awful crime. The fears in her eyes as she stood over the man she had slain, her very movements as she shrank away from the body in speechless horror, were heart-breaking. Then her agony of soul found vent in an outbuist of weeping. As the curtain fell Kitty was oppressed with a consciousness of having heard those choking, despairing cries in the past. Like a lightning gleam, ■ comprehension swept down upon her. " Forgive me," she . begged of Edith, " forgive me; I understand." " I'm glad—so glad," was the simple reply, given with deep emotion. "And Jack?" Kitty stepped/ to his side. " It's all been a horrid mistake on my part," she said, softly. I have heard from the lips of Beatrice Marsland every word that Edith uttered in her delirium. During her illness the lines on her part must have been continually running through her brain. I see my error, Jack, though she has not given me a word of explanation." " That was the end I had in view when asking you to come here," Edith broke in. "You had nothing against me but this?" she went on, diffidently addressing

Kitty. "You don't dislike me?" " Don't talk like that—it hurts me. He is my brother. I was bound to tell him. you see. You'd have done the same?"

" Yes—yes. You did right." And with that the hands of. the girls met in a clasp of friendship, while a pleased smile chased the "shadows from Trevor's face. '