"VERE”

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16455, 17 June 1921, Page 4

"VERE”

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CHAr-TEXt XI. —Continued - It ts very sad not to have our belongings about us. ' 1 she said, " but I have a firm conviction that nobody need live a. lonely life. There are so many people with whom to shore our lire?, should be as much a tabooed word as ‘ can’t 1 used to be in one’s childhood's days! . . Ah! you can mafic yourself happy with anybody,’' Mrs Greyson moaned cd, "shallow natures can pick up friends as easily as they pick blackberries. But deeper natures love only a few, and when those tew- are taken from them, nothing: but. emptiness is left! : " "T believe we can fill up the empty space; and when you arc feel hag stronger we must talk the matter out. But just now I want you to rest and not worry any more. The pain is better and f. believe you will go to sloop. " Not in the least likely. 1 never sleep in the daytime." The nurse's acute ears detected a sleepy note in Mrs Greyson"s plaintive voice, "it is most extraordinary how I tell you the same thing over and over again, and you never seem to understand. I never have been able- to sleep in the day. jl is one of my peculiarities, highly sensitive people, can seldom sleep excepting at night and not often then! " Her voice grew more and mere drowsy, her words ran confusedly together and her watchful guardian, softly drawing the curtains across the window, saw that the lids were dropping over her ©yes. " £tror nary —• want understand-ing—shall-—hard. The words fell indistinctly from the invalid"?, lips to be followed by a. silence broken only by the breathing of one, who slept profoundly. When her nurse was convinced of the soundness of the sleep, she stole away and rejoined the girls m her sitting-room. T think Mrs Greyson would drive me mad if T was her nurse,’’ Bnbs remarked. -' l she never seems to think of you at all or of anything but her own tiresome ailments.” ‘ She is a lonely woman and 1 urn sorry for her,’' Miss Fort-escue rejoined quietly, “it- is so difficult not to grow self-centred if one- live? much alone.” " Hum." Bn'os answered " you look quite tired after wresting 1 with the selfish old thing, and T dare say half the thingg she thinks arc Hie matter with her are simply imagination. Conic out with us on the cliff just for an hour to drive away the tired look from your fa.ee.

‘' As long as 1 am not far from the house and they can call me in at once 1. should like it.” Miss Fortescue acquiesced, “hut J mustn’t he out of earshot.” They strolled out of the garrlen. to the walk along the cliff and were making their way to a seat when a well-dressed woman coming towards them stopped dead and stared at them with wide open eyes “ Vc.re." she. exclaimed in astonished accents, “ and down here? 1 am surprised to see you. When did you come? ” CHAPTER XII. BUT YOU ARE VERE. 1 beo looked at. the stranger who had spoken to her, but her face expressed simply bewilderment and surprise. There was no recognition in her glance, but she shook her head slightly. ” X am so sorry.” she said, but think- I don’t think ” “ You are not trying to cut me surely? ” Upon the tall woman’s face was reflected the girl’s bewilderment. My dear child, you are looking at. me as if you had nrw scon mo in your life before. M hat lias happened to you ? ” I—don’t feel as if 1 ever had seen ! you before,” Theo answered, ‘ but 1 then—you see, l don’t even know my own name.” ‘‘Not know your own name? ” The stranger looked from Alias Fortescue to Babs, who were interested spectators of the little scene. "I can’t understand you. Xof know vour name? But you are Vere.” “ 1 think perhaps we. had better explain to this lady just what- has happened,” Miss Fortescue intervened lreiore Theo could speak. ‘‘For some time—-T do not quite know how long I because f am only a new friend to— I Theo, as ue call lier.” she put her hand I affectionately on the girl's shoulder, “ but for some time she has been going through a very trying experience. Owing to an accident l believe - ” she glanced at Tlieo, wlio nodded in coti--1 firmation of her words, ” she lest her j memory and all knowledge of her identity and she is now living with lTieuds ’’ " Who have, been so very good to mo,” Theo broke in eagerly, “T cannot tell you how good thov have all been, to me. Mr and Mrs (Vrstairs ami their daughters and—Mr Trenton.’ ‘‘Air Trenton?” Jt was Aliss For tescue who asked the question, and she looked at Theo with so strange an expression that the girl instinctively put out her hand with a feeiing that for some unexplained reason the nurse was going to faint. But she dismissed the idea, at once as fanciful and absurd, when Aliss Fortescue went, on speaking in normal accents. “Air Trenton? He is your guardian, 1 suppose. i don’t- think you have ever mentioned him by name before ” I was taken to his house on the night of my accident, and he has been more than good to me ever since. But please.” Theo turned to the stranger who was looking .at her with earnest scrutiny, ” please tell me when you knew me before, and what my name really is; and who I belong to?” ” I know you because you were at mv school at. Bournemouth, and your name is Vere Tilney. You had been adopted by your aunt, a Aliss Tilney.” ‘' Aly aunt. Aliss Tilney ? Oh * 1 wish I could remember, I wish I could remember.” There was distress in Theo’s voice, her eyes grew dark and matful. “Where is my aunt now? What must she have thought all this j time? ” *''Oh! my dear, your aunt died months ago.” the stranger exclaimed in rather shocked accents. “ she. died just after you left my school for good. You wrote and told me -of her death, and T was worried about your future which all seemed very unsettled. I believe you had a father living, but T am not sure.” te It all feels more than ewer like a horrible nightmare. Do you know my fathers address? And will you tell me your name? ” ‘ My name is Dacre—Miss Dacre; l do not know anything about your father —not even his name.” She spoke with hesitation. ‘ 1 T really know nothing of him. yon were like your aunt’s child. But when I wrote to you nt her address after her death T got. no ajistrer, and I have 30 often been sur* (prised that you did not write to me. The rather handsome, rather hard face softened a little. ”At school you always sedtned such an affectionate girl. We never thought you would forget, ua all ” | (To be continued.)