THE TANGLED WEB

Star (Christchurch), Issue 19108, 28 June 1930, Page 23 (Supplement)

THE TANGLED WEB

[Published by Special Arrangement.]

By

ELIZABETH YORK MILLER.

Author-of “The Runaway Wife,” “The Road That Led Home, “ A Cinderella of Mayfair,” etc., etc. [Copyright.]

CHAPTER IX.—(Continued). There was a peculiar and sudden tfilence, as though the power of making any sort of conversation had departed from all three of them. The two men looked at each other a little covertly, then John Raynes went to a side-table and poured some soda-water into a glass to refresh himself. As usual, he was very picturesque in his old style of dress,, but there was a curious guilty droop about him that Meriel could not fail to notice. “What’s the matter?” she asked, when the silence had bec<wne more than noticeable. “ Have you two been talking about me?” Jim coughed, lowered his eyes, and kicked softly at the rug with the toe of his shoe. It was a trick of embarrassment he had kept from his schoolboy days. His fellow conspirator could not catch his eye, and ■what they had compacted to do was sot so easy as John Raynes had imagined it would be. “Yes,” said her father finally, “we have been talking about you. Wondering how you’d feel if—a certain item of news was conveyed to you. Sit down, my dear.” Meriel moved to a chair and sat with her hands in her lap, her gaze uplifted, seeking first her father’s face and then Jim’s. This was bewildering and—in a vague way—frightening. They were both so very solemn. To dissemble the heaviness of the moment, she said, “ Good heavens, you two couldn’t look more upset if you’d been caught in n&irder! What is the news, Daddy?” And then to her amazement, Jim turned as red as a turkey-cock and for the moment she thought he was stifling a chuckle. “ Merry, you’ll have to forgive me for something I’ve done,” her father went on. “You must know how wretched I’ve*been on your account for nearly a year riow.” “ Oh, Daddy, please ! ” “ Wait a minute. This man Saunders managed to impose himself upon you to such an extent as seemed almost incredible, yet I’ve every reason to believe that you don’t fancy yourself in love with him any more.” “ Daddy, I’d rather not discuss it.” John brought his fist down on the desk with a gentle but decisive thud. “ It’s got to be discussed. I took it upon myself to make inquiries, and old Pears carried them out for me. That’s the chief reason why I asked him here to-night. Merry, Eric Saunders is dead. He died ’ about four months ago .... of measles, the report says. It’s all ■written out here. You can read it if you like.” He indicated a type-written sheet on the desk. But Meriel did not stir. She sat still as death, conscious only of a wildly- beating heart. It was a shock,

but in a way . she was prepared for it by Angel’s gossip. So it was true and poor Eric had gone out of her life for ever. • No need to fear him any more; n 6 need to deny herself happiness with Jim. How extraordinary to be a widow without ever having been a wife! And now she must carry this secret alone; for Eric had made her promise to tell no one until he came back to claim her. He would never come back now, and she must never tell It would be a burdensome secret, however. Nothing really was altered; she was Meriel Raynes as she had always been. Those few questions and answers before the registrar in the Town Hall in themselves did not make a marriage, and death had rendered their potential value null and void. She felt Jim’s hand on her shoulder and lifted her own to meet it. A little blur dimmed her eyes, and when it had passed she saw that her father had left the room. • “ Merry, this upset you too much?” Jim asked. She detected a note of jealousy in his voice and it made her heart ache for him. Poor Jim, how kind and patient he had been, yet in torment all the time. Could she ever make it up to him?” “It’s been just a little shock,”•she confessed. “ Saunders meant so much to you?” “Jim, you must believe me for both our sakes—yours and mine. This is the solemn truth I’m telling you, on my word of honour. I would have been wretched if Eric had come back It was only a wickedly stupid infatuation. Everybody was right about it but me. and he’d scarcely left England before I realised how I felt. What mattered to me was the promise I’d given him.” Jim smiled in a wry fashion. “It seems to me that some promises > are better broken than kept.” “ I couldn’t have broken this one,” Meriel said faintly. It might be that in his secret heart Jim Tremlett had misgivings for the means which had been employed to pave the way to his own desire, but John Raynes was made of sterner stuff. “ Marriage will knock some of the nonsense out of Merry,” he said when Jim ventured a small doubt. “ You and 1. Jim, belong to a sex that will -Jiever understand the other. Women understand us only too well, but their motives are beyond us. The truth is. women are all cranks and there’s no explaining ’em. What is it the cynic says? —‘ We can’t live with ’em and we can’t live without ’em.’ I wish you the best of luck, my boy, and I'm not sorry that my own marrying days are over.” Jim grinned and prepared to fill his pipe in anticipation of the session they were about to hoid over the marriage settlements.

“ I don’t mind getting the experience.” he said. *

“ Oh, we’re all brave when we’re young,” John observed. “ Here comes old Toni. Now for it.”

Jim’s father, debonair and sprightly, with a pink carnation in his buttonhole, was always at his best when wedding bells were in the air. lie couldn’t think, he said, why they had been so long delayed in the case of this couple who were held so dear in his affections.

They had rather weighty matters to consider. Jim must be taken into the firm now on a partnership basis, but it wouldn’t do to spoil the young people by premature pampering. Just set them tip in a style becoming to their station in life and make Jim work hard for the larger luxuries A little house in St John’s Wood was to be the joint wedding gift of the two fathers. Meriel could have the joy oT rerpodelling and renovating it to suit her own tastes. The Pelburys were giving a handsome cheque to spend cm furniture, and John Raynes turned over the share of her mother’s jewellery which had been set aside for the occasion of her marriage. What with all this and the trousseau and the arrangements for the wedding itself, Meriel was having a busy time, although her sisters and Aunt Angel were generous with their help The great event-was to take place in September, and the honeymoon would be spent in Ttaly, in the lake district. Through-it all, and up to the very day of her -wedding, Meriel practically ’forgot all about Eric Saunders. She was a girl again in thought and feeling; and, indeed, it would be rather absurd to pretend that she had ever been anything else. Her colour and soft contours reappeared as though by magic. Because of the dark cloud that had passed by the sky was all the brighter. Life was so exquisite, so beautiful that one scarcely seemed strong enough to endure it. “ Can this be I—can this be the Meriel who was so wretched no longer ago than yesterday?” Now it was she who clamoured tor assurances of love. “ Certain you’re not regretting the pretty Peabody chit?” she demanded, with mock anxiety. The fact that Jim was very certam added to the feathers in her cap She must have all the feathers she could snatch “ Sure you wouldn't like to wait until the spring, Jim? This is a very short engagement, you know.” “ Don’t be an idiot. We’ve been engaged all our lives,” he retorted. “ Why, I’ve been waiting for 20 years.” A momentary shadow clouded the face of the sun. Yes, it was true that Jim had been faiTfcful and had known his own mind more truly than most men *could say There was something of the bull-dog in his tenacity. It gave Meriel a sense of confidence and security that heightened her delight in him as a lover So much petting! How they fussed deliriously happy in the business of spoiling this little queen bee. . It was nearly a year now since Eric Saunders had come into her life with such dramatic suddenness and passed out of it with an element of indignity. On the morning of her wedding with Jim Tremlett, Meriel awoke from dreams of Eric. Sitting up in bed she tried to shake them off, but she was reminded in spite of her best endeavours of that other day when the rain

had pounded on the station roof and her father had said, “ Would you like me to come with you?” But he hadn t really wanted to come. Oh, if only Daddy hadn’t trusted her! And then Eric—looking so different from her previous conception of him—and that lodging-house in the Leas with Mrs Begby and her sullen, abrupt daughtei, to say nothing of what had transpired at the Town Hall. In came Edith with a dainty breakfast tray. ' “ It’s a fine, bright morning, Miss Meriel. Many happy returns of the day.” Meriel stared at her. Was this a joke? If so, it had a peculiar sharp point. “ Oh, I didn’t mean that! ” Edith exclaimed with a rueful laugh “ Of course,- it’s not your birthday Miss Meriel. I was a bit mixed.” As such functions go, *the wedding of Jim and Meriel could not be classed as fashionable. With the possible exception of the Pelburys, their families were not socially prominient and John Raynes held by his old-fashioned belief that marriage was a personal rather than a public affair. The church was guarded against all but relatives and close friends, but nevertheless the occasion collected the usual audience of sentimental or merely curious which can be always counted upon to muster in large numbers outside the doors. Meriel, her little hand tucked in Jim's, safe-hidden in the crook of his arm, came out into the blaze ot September. sunshine with her bridal draperies floating about her like mist, and the glory of the moment shining clear in «her eyes. Briefly her glance swept the faces of the crowd who were so curious to see her. She smiled because she was so happy and felt impelled to pass on a little of that exquisite joy to less fortunate people But the smile froze on her lips One face seemed to dart out and fasten itself upon her Sh» couldn’t be mistaken. It was tire face c€ Leonora Begby. There was excitse ment, surprise and something of darkness in the flash of the brilliantly sombre eyes which had held Meriel’s for the briefest »f moments. The shock of gaeing the Folkestone dressmaker and knowing full well that Leonora Begby had recognised her, caused Meriel to stumble and miss a step oil the shallow flight that led from the portals of the church. She nearly fell, and only saved by Jim’s quickness in holding her. Perforce there was a little halt in the procession. “You haven’t twisted your ankle, have you, darling?” Jim questioned anxiously. “No, no!” she replied “It’s quite all right, but how clumsy of me!" The little maids lined up and show ered them with rose-leaves, and even some of the uninvited public had bags of confetti which they pelted at the happy couple. “Good luck to you ! ” “May you live long and be happy!” The crowd cheered and reluctantly allowed itself to be elbowed aside by the police while the bride and groom

€] HI M ® HI IS M HI EEI HI ® HI ESS GB SI El HI E*J EEI E» continued down the red carpet to the motor. Where was that face now? Meriel stole a cautious glance in the direction of the spot where Leonora Begby had been standing, but the girl seemed to have disappeared. “Darling, I believe you did hurt yourself when you stumbled,” Jim said anxiously. “Really, I didn’t. It startled methat’s all.” “But vmi’na trembling from head to foot,” he protested. “Am I? It's silly of me, if I am. Oh, Jim, I’m so glad it’s over.” “So am I—and I’ll be more glad when all the rest of it is over and I can have you to myself. Just think, you’re my wife, Merry! I’m going to take such good care of you, my precious little wife.” “flow sweet that sounds.” She slipped off her glove and looked at the plain ring on her hand For an instant her lips quivered painfully Nearly a year ago another hand had placed a ring on that same finger—a ring which she had worn for only a few hours “You’d better keep this for me, Eric* until you come back.” She sighed deeply. Perhaps she ought to have .confessed to. Jim, in spite of her promise, but certainly she couldn’t tell him now. It would hurt him too much. No, the secret was hers and Eric’s, and -he, poor fellow, was in his grave.

]H®H@g@H@@ggESg[g!*jEaj¥i!iiis!g Did Leonora Begby know that Eric was dead ? It must have surprised her to see his widow being re-married in all the panoply of a girl-bride Miss Begby must have thought it rather heartless. By the time they reached Bloomsbury Square Meriel had recovered from the shock those sombre dark eyes had given her. It was foolish to let it prey on her mind in what should be the happiest hour of her life. The family and guests streamed in, and the ritual of such occasions took its usual course, winding up with toasts, and old Tom Tremlett heading a lusty chorus of “For lie’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” when his son's health was proposed,- and Meriel ha\Hng the difficulty which all brides experience in hacking her way through the icing uf the- formidable cake. But weddings, so gay on the surface are rather sad affairs for some of the merrymakers. Whenever he looked a*t his lovely child, something contracted in John Raynes’s heart and h rt him The last of the 'ittle brood to fly awav to a nest of h«*r own There was nothing he had wanted *o much as fo see his Merry the bride of Jim Tremlett; indeed, it was entirely by his clever scheming that she stood there to-day misted’in white and silver with that new ring-on her finger. Yet John was near to tears, and it seemed to him more an occasion for grief than for

rejoicing. His Merry was still rather frail-looking, and he thought he detected a shadow of sorrow in her deep blue eyes. “You’ll be good to her, Jim.” he gulped anxiousiv in a farewell aside. The young man wrung his hand. “You may be as sure of that as you are. of heaven,” Jim replied. “You’d better make it a bit stronger than that,” said John, trying to be iocular. At last it was all over, and the honeymooners speeding on their wav in the reserved section of the Pullman down to the sea. They were to cross from Dover Meriel had stipulated for that on the score of its being a shorter crossing, but the truth was she couldn’t have borne to travel by the Folkestone-Bou-logne route as entailing too many and painful memories. (To be Continued.)