Girls at the Cottage

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16814, 17 August 1922, Page 11

Girls at the Cottage

i | THE “STAR” SERIAL STORY |

By

Florence Warden

CHAPTER XVTl.—Continued. f ‘ Now you must not think, my dear,” Kesiah began when she had seated herself, and was beginning to unfasten for the night her little wisp lof hair. “ because J don’t say much about the future of you two girls, that 1 never talk about it. And 1 may say the same of your uncle. He and I have had many a talk together about you and your sister too.” ‘‘ It’s very kind,” said Judith rather stiffy. What on earth was she going to pay? “ Now you may retort, if I talk about marriage ” —Judith sat up—- “ that T haven't practised it myself.” It was a subject which neither of the girls ever ventured upon with Cousin Kesiah. whose comments on the married state were apt to grow waspish, and to suggest that she resented the fact that she had not been pressed to enter it. ‘‘ it is much better not to marry,” said Judith in a tone the stiff ness of which might have acted as a warning to her cousin, “ unless you see your way to marrying happily.” “ Indeed, my door, I agree with you there most heartily. I. for my part, would never have taken a husband who did not interest me. or one whom I couldn’t feel sure of. Rut when a. man really loves a girl, when he makes no pretence of not being devoted to her, v hen he is ready to make considerable sacrifices, of his convenience in order to prove his .affection, and when that man is quite a distinguished person in his way, why then there may. I think, be something to he said for him. and something for one’s chances of happiness with him.” By .this time Judith was beginning to see clearly whither this rigmarole was tending. Mischievously stolid, plie sat hack in her chair and would not help her cousin out. Kesiah. was not 6tupid, and she perceived plainly that her young cousin was leading her on with malicious intent. The thought exasperated her. and she lost some of her elaborate playfulness at once. <l I think you guosa what T’m going to say,” she remarked in a more matter-of-fact tone. “You know who was here this afternoon.” “ Yes.” “ And I suppose you know that the doctor is devoted to you.” Judith’s manner had changed. Cousin Kesiah felt the difference, and her playfulness disappeared altogether. “ Now don’t begin by saying you won’t havo him,” she said in a voice which was shaking with entreaty, with anxiety. “ Because there is a great deal at stake —more than you know.” Judith jumped at the opportunity she thought she saw for getting a lit-tlo of the knowledge she wanted so badly. “In that case.” she said promptly, “ you will tell me. won’t you. Cousin Kesiah, exactly what it is that is at stake ?” But, of course, the elderly lady was not to be brought to hook so easily. “It is what your uncle said when we were discussing Dr Cone and > his admiration for you.” she said. “ And what did he mean by it? You must know.” Cousin Kesiah looked askance at her niece. There was never very much confidence between her and these younger folk, and now the two wer.i both obviously on their guard. “Dr Cone is a verv clever man.** said the elder lady at last, “ and at a time of difficulty and of trial like that through which we are all passing. his help, his advice, would be of inestimable benefit.” “ You don’t mean to suggest that I I should marrv a man T don’t care about | to help the family out of a difficulty?” Cousin Kesiah’s eves showed that this : was exactly what she did suggest, but j it was not the sort of thing one could acknowledge. “ Oh. no. of course not.” “ Especially when one prefers someon* else.” “ But- you couldn’t marry a man whose mother is trying her hardest to —to——” “To do what?” Cousin Kesiah drew a long breath and rushed to the obstacle. “ Rady Thorncomb is trying,” she blurted out boldy. “ to have your poor uncle put in prison.” Judith asked no more questions. She did not even want to know anything more. She felt sick, unhappy, alarmed. “ I don’t see how Dr Cone could keep my uncle out of prison if ho had done anything to merit it,” she said hoarsely.

| ** And I should expect either the doctor or ray uncle to tell me a great deaf more than T know now’ before I could entertain such a proposal. I don’t think.” she went on, as she rose abruptly from the chair into which she had been forced to place herself, “ that we need discuss this any further.” Cousin Kesiab’s face looked drawn and old with anxiety as she too rose and faced the younger lady. “ Then you refuse him?” Judith was troubled by the form of th© question. “ Better say,” she answered slowly. “ that I would not let you put the question. The doctor is quite clever enough to know what that means. “Clever enough! Yes. you’ll find that he is a great deal cleverer than you think,” said Cousin Kesiah in a tone of warning. “You had better have accepted with a good grace, instead of waiting till ” “Till what?” asked Judith sharply, j • Till you have to marry him. whether von like it or not,” rostorted Cousin Kesiah. CHAPTER XVTTT. The last words came from Kesiah like a blow between the eyes. Judith j could not answer. She stood panting, i alarmed, but niether amazed nor angry, i After oil, were not the spinster’s warnI ings but the echo to the thought which had been lurking in her own mind for ! days? j Does ndt every woman, suddenly finding herself cut off from her hopes of happiness, with the man she loves, realise that henceforth she is the prey of the winds and waves of chance in the conduct of her life, with odds on any man who woos her in earnest? Dr Cone was in earnest ; he repelled her but he fascinated her. And with her will against it, as Cousin Kesiali bad said, the girl realised that her horizon seemed to be filled by his sinister yet somewhat attractive figure. For a moment slhe stood silent, as if waiting for an explanation from her cousin. But the elderly lady had no more to say, was fearful, indeed, that she hart already said too much; and she made no attempt to detain Judith when the girl turned uncertainly, almost blindly, to the door, fumbled for the handle, and went out. Claudine uttered a little scream as she saw her sister’s face as the latter re-entered the room which the two girls shared. “ Hush!” said Judith. She was surprised at the old. broken sound of her own voice. She was surprised when, struck by Claudine’s tone of horror, she crossed the room to the dressing-table, and stared at her own reflection in the mirror. She looked less white than green, the pale, yellowish green associated with ideas of spectres and ghostly visitants. She turned away with a harsh, broken laugh. {i Yes. T do look rather fearsome, don't I?” Then she went hack to her own little bed, and sat down upon it, trying to sing to herself. Claudine came timidly across the room, stood on© moment in front of her sister, and then dropped on her knees beside the beautiful girl an i leaned against her shoulder. “ Poor old Ju!” she whispered tenderly. Like a statue suddenly endowed with life Judith bent her head and hurst into tears. Claudine threw her arms round her sister and kissed her and hugged her. calling her by all the pretty childish names they had used in the old days when they were children together. And Judith never interrupted her. never tried to stop her, or to explain or to answer. She wept and wept, without uttering a word, until Claudine, having exhausted her vocabulary j of endearment, fell in her turn into : silence. But her kind eyes still sought those 1 of ‘her sister, and her little clinging hands still caressed the lovely Niobc. Then at last she said gently: “ Don’t go on crying any more, Ju !” Her sister had begun to dry her eyes, and now she tried to laugh. “ Oh. Claudio,” she said brokenly. “ I don’t want to be pretty any more, even to please you. Can you guess what that horrid old Kesiah wanted me for ?” Claudine nodded. “Of course I can. She wants you to marry that rascal. Dr Cone. But won’t, of course?” There was a note of reluctant inquiry in her voice. TO BE CONTINUED.