HER LADYSHIP’S COMPANION

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20232, 16 February 1934, Page 12

HER LADYSHIP’S COMPANION

By

HEDLEY RICHARDS

Author of ————————— “Out of Darkness,” “A Day of Reckoning,” eto.

Or THH WEB OF FATE

CHAPTER VII. Esther Speaks. La<l\ Jane had said she didn't feel Inclined to go out, and settled down to read, apparently, though, as Esther suspected, her thoughts were not on what she was reading; and. knowing she was in the way, Esther put on her hat and went into’ the Park. As she strolled on she thought of wliat she had overheard the preceding night, and for a minute she felt sorry for her friend, who was in the clutches of Dumarsque. TV hat hold had he over Lady Jane, and what did he mean about Mademoiselle Dubois and she being missing on the night of that awful storm ? She knew they had been out in the storm, but the girls were told that Lady Jane had been taken ill —the storm had unnerved her and on her return she had gone to bed, with mademoiselle in attendance. But Dumarsque had said they were missing from the school until morning. Tt was all very strange, and for a second she felt inclined to confess that she had played eavesdropper, and help Jane to meet whatever trouble threatened her; but she knew Lady Jane would shrink from anyone who was capable of doing such a thing—and Esther’s face flushed as she thought of the contempt w ; th which she would regard her, and for a moment she realised that she had done r despicable tiling—that she was acting as Judas to the girl who had smoothed her path when she was left homeless; and she was doing it for a price—not money, but the love of Ronald Stapleton. Little as she knew of him, she loved him madly. The thought of him drove all pity for Jane out of her heart, and she resolved that she would let Stap l#t°n know of this meeting. Unconsciously her steps had turned in the direction of the Grange Park, and. looking tip, she discovered she was in a walk known as the Beech Avenue. Miss Tempest had said Ronald .Stapleton was not coming to the Hall that day; but Esther hoped he would change his mind. And, sitting on a rustic bench, she wondered how it would be best to tell him that vie woman whom he regarded as his future wife was in the power of another man. She would have to be cautious. Ronald Stapleton would not willingly give ear to anything against Jane. Tie did not love her, but she was his kinswoman, and his father had wished her to be his wife. Meanwhile, Ronald was pacing up ana down the velvety lawn in front of the Grange—a time-worn old mansion—and, in spite of himself, he longed to go to the Hall. He was vexed with Jane, and had made up his mind to keep away for i few days; but, despite his resolution, he wanted to go. But it was not Jane lie wanted to see. The lovely face of Esther Collinson seemed to haunt him. “If only Jane would settle the matter one way or the other! But I cannot break the bond. If she elects to marry me, I will do my best to be a good husband;- if she refuses, thou—” And his face lighted up as he thought what it would mean to him. He would woo Esther. But if he married Jane, he must make some excuse to get the girl he loved Dtit e>f the way. She must have a happy home found elsewhere. But he could not bear to se her lay by day. “Hang it! Jane wouldn’t give me an answer. In fact, she implied she might not marry me, so there’s no harm in seeing Esther,” he thought, ns he flung his cigar away and turned in the direc;ion of the little gate leading into Lynton Park. But as he walked on, lie told himself he was acting foolishly. Jane was ure to carry out the. contract their ’athers had made. If there had been ny other attachment on her part, it ould have been different, but though o didn’t believe she cared much for him, ho was heartwliole. Anyway, they were not engaged—she had declined to give him an answer at present—so he would *ee the girl he loved. Suddenly he stopped, for there, sitting on a rustic bench, a few yards from him, was Esther C'ollinson. She had heard his footsteps md was looking towards him, and he was struck by the look of expectancy her face wore. “Aunt Sarah said you were not coming to-day,” she saitl, as they shook hands. ‘T didn’t intend, then the inclination was too strong,” he answered. “You’ll find Jane in the house. She’s •eading, or trying to read, so I came for t stroll. This is a lovely walk. We ■ Elen used to come this way when you vere from home.” “Don’t let me keep you from enjoying Y our favourite walk—in fact, I wish you’d extend it. and come through the zate into the Grange Park.” “Oh. Jane and I will come some day. Let me see, your land and hors run narellel for miles, don’t tliev?” she said, carelessly. “Yes,” he replied shortly, thinking that but for those acres on either side the marriage would not have been arranged. “Poor Jane!” and Esther sighed. “Why do you say, ‘poor Jane’?” he asked, as he seated himself beside her. “Tt was a silly thing to say. Most people would say, ‘rich Jane.’’She lias all this and your love.” Esther spoke the last words softlv, and he caught a faint sigh. Ronald longed to tell her that he was indifferent to Jane —that he loved her, only her—a ml the words trembled on his lips. Then he remembered he was not free; the bond could have been broken while he was away. But his letters had hinted at it, and his words, when he saw Jane the day of the storm, must have told her that, so far as lie was concerned, it was an accepted fact. ’ “Yes, she’s a lucky girl, only—onH I’m afraid she does pot know it. She might be so happy, yet she is miserable,” Esther continued. “Miserable! Jane miserable!” he ex* 'claimed. “Yes, she’s in a hateful position; and that was what made me call her ‘poexr Jane.’ ” “Do you mean her position is hateful because she is in a way bound to me?’* “No! Oh, no! That must be joy!” Then Esther dropped her eyes in apparent confusion. "J mean that if she loves you it will be joy, but —” Then sli« paused, evidently embarrassed. “I see. Y’ou think she doesn’t lov« me? If so, it rests—” “I didn’t mean that. I don’t see how she can help loving you”—and again Esther blushed and looked confused — “that is, knowing you so well. But poor Jane is in a terrible position. Oh. t have said more than T meant to say!” “You must tell me why Jane’s position is terrible,” he said in a determined tone. For a moment she seemed irresolute; then, looking at him, she said; '

“I can only tell you Jane is not a free agent—she is not her own mistress!” Ronald Stapleton looked at her in amazement. Then he spoke, gently, but firmly: “You must tell me what you niear How is Jane not a free agent?” She bent her head; and when she spoke it was in a low tone of distress: “I never meant to tell you—both for her sake and my own—but she is in the power of another man!” “In another man’s power!” he ex claimed. She nodded, but did not speak. “Who is this man?” he asked. “Mr. Dumarsque, our old drawing master.” “The man who wanted permission to sketch in the Park, and whom she refused?*’ said Ronald. “Yes. All the same, he has been in the Park twice, and met Jane once, at any rate, by appointment. Oh! why am 1 telling you this? I never meant to,” she said, breaking off suddenly, and wringing her hands in apparent distress. “Don’t blame yourself. You have only answered my questions”—and his tone was very tender; then it hardened, as he said: “l'ou must tell me all you know about this. It is only fair to me.” “But you will think I have been playing eavesdropper—and I really couldn’t help the position in which I was placed.” “I could never think anything but what was good of you,” he said; and again his voice became tender. “Then I will tell you how it happened that 1 know Jane met this man. But you won’t let it make mischief between you?” she said, suddenly. “I cannot promise anything. But it is better for both Jane and me that you should tell me what you know.” “Perhaps it is,” she said, after a moment’s hesitation; then, raising her lovely eyes to his, she added: “But you must promise, if you name this to Jane, that you will not let her know I have told you. She would never forgive me.” “I certainly will not tell her who was my informant.” “Then I will tell you what I know. After you left yesterday, Jane drove seemed pleased when Aunt Sarah told her you were not coming to-day. All the afternoon she was cross and out of sorts, and I was afraid I’d been a bit snappy with her, because she really had vexed me. However, Jane has been very good to me, so about six o’clock, when I saw her crossing the garden in the direction of the wood, I made up my mind to follow and tell her I was sorry, but she was a little ahead of me, and I couldn’t catch her up; then, when I reached the wood, she seemed to have disappeared altogether and I was wondering where she had gone, when I heard Dumarsque say: “‘Have you brought the money?* I thought he* was in league with someone to roll Jane, and I resolved to discover who was his companion, so I stood quite still and listened. Then I was horrified to hear Jane say she had, but that it had been hard work to get it out of her guardian. For a moment I was too surprised to move, and as I stood there Dumarsque said. “ ‘You’ll have to get me a lot more or I’ll tell your secret —and I think he must have gripped her roughly, as she called out: “‘Oh, Victor, you are hurting me!* I felt that I must go to her, and, moving quickly, I stepped on to a twig, and as it snapped I heard Jane say. “‘I would rather die than be caught here with you.’ After that I dared not risk being seen, so I stole away, but not before I heard him tell her that if she didn’t bring him the money he wanted he would tell a few little facts to the world that would not be pleasant to her. After that I slipped away, and, passing through a portion of the wood, I came out at the other side, and had a considerable walk before I reached the house, so I did not «ee Jane until dinner time, when she appeared much as usual. But I cannot forget what I heard, and I am afraid Jane is not happy,” said Esther. “You don’t think this man Dumarsque is her lover?” he asked. “I’m sure he isn’t. But she is in his power, I’m certain. That’s what made me say she must be miserable. Of course, she may have cared for him, then discovered he was a bad man.” “Would she have much chance of see ing him when you were at school?” asked Ronald. “Not much, but they may have fallen in love with each other at sight. I have known such a thing happen.” she said. Then, as their eyes met, hers fell beneath “So have I,” lie answered. (To be continued daily.)