NEW SERIAL. “UNDYING MUSIC.”

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17029, 1 May 1923, Page 10

NEW SERIAL. “UNDYING MUSIC.”

(By

L. G. MOBERLY.)

CHAPTER XIII.—Oon tin tied. “Mr Martin dele is pleaeeri.” Banian bad come vnn«Uc«d int« the room and stoma now by Uhiijp't. side. “It i* a masterpiece, Dickson, if an ignoramus about art may »ay so. It is a masterpiece.” Since his oeuversatio* with Alaisie, Brian had avoided the sittings, feeling that hi* pro—ace might conceivably embarrass the painter, but on this alter noon he had come into tile room inadvertently, picture and painter momenta rily forgotten. j L'hiltp hushed at his praise, and per- ! lisps a iso because he realised a certain ask war due— in the situation, ati awkwaianea, however, which Brian himself smoothed away. l am delighted with the portrait, Dickson.” 1m; said heartiiv. “ More delighted than 1 oen possibly say. You have not only caught my wife's feature*, you hare managed to make hev .soul show through them.” “Brian, my dear!” Hester left hev chair and came to his side, her own face Hushing. '‘ Your beautiful soul.” her husband said in a whisper whioh made her flush yet more highly, whilst aloud he added : “ I am inclined to think a portrait like j this ought to make your name, Dick aoq, ” I was going to ask if you would allow me u> -end it te the next Acad(jmy,” Philip answered. “ 1 bare put ail L know into it, and 1 feel it is the. bast thing 1 have dona.” “1 am satisfied—l osn't siv • more I than that,” was Brian’s rejoinder ; and the rerdiot which a few months latei th t; uoivd at large passed upon whal. was right-lj* ealleu *• i'hiiip Dickson’s great achievement,” set the seal upon those words. Old Academy-goers wiM stiil remember that portrait of Hester Martin dale, in her soft gray draperies, will remember the serene sweotness of the eyes that met theirs so squarely, the restful quality of the vroiie that hovered over her lips. But they will remember how, above all. the vary atml of the woman herself seemsd to be portrayed beyond her actual features. Gladys Burnaby first saw the picture on an October day only a few week.-* after Philip had given it its finishing * touches. Hester, moved to a great ten- «

derness and pity tor the girl whose soreness oi heart she divined begged her to come to Hartedown to keep her company during her husband's enforced absence. “1/ believe it will help her if she feels that somebodv really needs her. ’ Hester said to Brian. ” I am sure she is eating her heart out. though her letters (.lion no sign of it. She is « plucky soul, and she has a great deai of character/’ “ You think young Dickson's defection will have hurt her?’” “1 am sure of it—hurt her all the more. perhaps, because she had refused to be engaged to him. wanted to wait, was in no hurry, and so on. And all the time she cared more for him than for j anybody iri the world—l am sure of that.” “Well, if she comes to von lor healing she is cowing to the right person. Brian said gently. ” 1 know u.o on. - with greater healing qualities than you my dear. You are a born helper. “ 1 sometimes feel as if I could never ; help people enough, ah if I could nevei ! do enough with the life that Francis , Burnaby gave back to me she answered ' • • Through saving me his j great discovery was lost to the v. ol io, j but it is for me to do all I can lor ! the woi Id instead. ••Tile world will be the better lor TOUT having lived,” was the quiet rply. “ And 1 think Miss Burnaby will agree with me.” > And if Gladys did met put her feel i ings into quite the saw* words, there j W as no doubt oi her agreement: j was a rather white and quiet Glad>>. 1 with lips set into a new firmness, am! Tve‘ that had acquired a new look that ! kerned to Hester one of wistful be j wilderment.. But she carried her head high, and she gave no sign o| fliuc mg ; yood stuff through and through ’’ Hester reflected, wondering. ! ... s s ] ie watched the girl, whether she 1 dared mention Philip Dickson and his : strong* infatuation. But it was Glarfv, | herself who mentioned both when sn | stood looking at Philip's mmderpmoa i in the Manor House drawing room «• It is wonderful,” she said, jnd Hester felt as if some of the wistfu - ness in the girl's eyes had crept into her voice. 1 think i alwa\s knea Philin would =ome dav do something hip,.';. Mrs Martindaie?-' ..-he added j abrupt!v. and without looking at her i hostess' , | “It is difficult to say exactly "li»t .ie feels,’' was the cautious repl> . . see. Gladys he is rather cor.strallied with me. He had never mentioned the subject of bis engagement. (.liul'.s winced ever so slightly, but Heater went on as if she' bad not noticed Perhaps it it natural that m our house he should feei a -little, embar

rasscid.” . . , - Perhaps. Mrs Mart.ndale - Gladvs spoke impulsively cion t. blame Philip too much. 1 believe you have been blaming him But von inns remember he and I- were only friends 1 had- let'nsed anything else." f-cr voice shook, hut she went on bravely. “ He was perfectly free, in every wav and— 1 don’t want to say aliytmng nasty, but any man might have four-! it difficult to resist. Mrs Chalmers “ I know, my deal'. 1 kuna. He, tor's gentleness of tone soothed th. girl's vehemence. “ 1 have not see,, much of Mrs Chalmers, but what 1 hare seen has given me quite a working knowledge of her character." A certain , dry sarcasm came into the usually gentle voice. "1 do not want to ho unkind or uncharitable either, but my own firm impression is that Mrs Chalmers deliberated set herself to hunt down Mr Dickson, and that—her hunt ing has been good.” i * Tt , ne ketj one ” Gladys broke ; out impetuously- hut checked bersell lat once. “ I won’t say anything blt- ! ter .he said, with a quick little sigh i that went to Hester's heart. “ I am ! determined not to he bitter. Tiamlx would have warned me against biUevi ‘Even if one is hurt:’ lie used to BBV - one should never get bitter Tt | corrodes all the best qualities of the : °“He was quite right,” Hester said. “Bitterness hurts love, hurts life, spoils everything beautiful- I can imagine that your brother would have had a horror of bitterness.” “Do vou know I have so often thought lately of something you once said.” Gladys put in with apparent ir reference. “ You told me that Tin my own life could he one of Francis’s works —following him. T can’t put it properly into words, but T feel now —now that things are—are—hurting me as if any little bit of courage l could show would be carrying on Francis’s though*#, Francis’* influence.” no he oonfinudl.