“Judy Says No!”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 121, 25 May 1931, Page 3

“Judy Says No!”

SERIAL STORY

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CHAPTER L A Startling Proposition. Judy Warrender stood in the oldworld garden, her slim hands plunged into a bowl of golden grain. Above her the pigeons wheeled and circled, and then one, more daring than its fellows, alighted on the bowl and helped itsebf, and Judy's enchanting laughter rang out. Thai was the first thing Gilbert Dean heard, as he leaped lhe stile and stood watching her. 'She was the loveliest thing that ever happened! She was the most dazzling young thing ever created for the undoing of men, he thought as he stood spellbound. Gilbert, who hadn't a word of poetry in bls composition 1 “Happy returns, Judy!” he said, and held out the box he had been hugging under his arm. “Chocolates 1” cried Judy, delight l edly. “And my favourite kind too!” “Well, how’s it feel to be nineteen?” he queried. “Very ancient,” said Judy, solemnly, “If I’m not very careful I’ll be on the shelf!” He looked at her. Was it a propitious moment to tell her that as far as he was concerned she would never be on the shelf. But Judy guessed what he was premeditating. “If you do, It will be the thirteenth time. I'm keeping count!” She raced off, and he followed, laughing a little. Ridiculous to ne upset because Judy could not take love seriously! Perhaps some day she would grow up. He sighed as he thought of her, so near and yet so fa? from his reach. He arrived at the morning-room to find the big family all there, Judy the centre of everything as usual, with her dancing eyes and gaiety. He was greeted affectionately and told to taste some of Judy’s gingerbread. There were six Warrenders, all in steps, but Judy was the one everyone went to In difficulties, who was never at a loss as to how to mend a toy or a stocking. She was their brightest and most particular star, Gilbert thought and sighed, for he wished he could transplant her. There was Patricia, tall, mild-eyed Patricia, the eldest, and Peter, who came next. For all he was twentyone and studying for the ministry, Peter was as much of a boy as ever. Then Judy came next, at nineteen, the flower of the flock. Aggie, Robert and baby 'Daphne came next in delicious steps in the Warrender ladder, and they were all there that beautiful Saturday mowing, eating as surely only the Warrender family knew how. “Come on, Judy. Come on Gilly,” shrilled Aggie, making* a place. “Children 1” It was their father’s voice that broke in on them, as they sampled the golden brown slabs of gingerbread. He sounded agitated and very upset, and besides him was a stranger. Instantly Judy ranged herself on her father's side and faced the. stranger, ready to do battle on her father's behalf. And at that moment it seemed to •Gilbert Dean as though he had never really seen Judy before. Styn-kissed hair like corn that was well ripened; cyfts as purple as the bloom of a plum. And then he forgot even Judy's Irresistible loveliness In hearing what the Reverend Martin Warrender had to say. “Girls,” he said again. “I’ve got something to tell you. This gentlej man is your grandfather’s solicitor, he has come on a strange mission from your grandfather.” Helplessly their father wkved his hand to the newcomer to go on, but for a moment it was Judy who took the floor. “I hope that grandfather has sent word that he’s sorry he was so unkind to darling mother when she ran away and married daddy for love,” burst out Judy, fiercely. The defiant little head was flung back, her eyes were blazing. And the solicitor, 100-king at her, wished that he could say that her grandfather was repentant. But somehow he could not imagine that autocratic old man ever confessing to being sorry. “Well, it’s not exactly that,” he said, uneasily. “As a matter off fact, your grandfather has had a quarrel with his heir. He has sent -me down to make an offer. He invites one of you down to Harmer House on a six months’ visit. If he is pleased he Intends to adopt that one as his heir.’’ There was a silence, a terrible silence. Which one? Which one? The lawyer saw those excited, troubled 'faces turn to each other and then back to him. “Is anyone named after his wife, your grandmother? If so he prefers that one. Her name, as you know, was Judith.” “Not Judy! We can’t Jet Judy go,’’ came a chorus of young voices. Martin Warrender himself caught hold of Judy’s arm as if to prevent her by force. But Judy knew what it would mean. Money where there has been none. Her face crinkled up as though she were fighting off tears. Then a look of determination came. “Daddy!” she cried. “I think I ought. |o go.” There was a troubled look on the Reverend Marlin Warrender’s kindlx •face. He couldn't let her go, his darling, so like her mother, so dear to them all, and yet that, old man was lonely and hard and bitter and It wathe first olive branch. Il wasn't in Martin Warrender’s gentle heart to refuse to help anyone. “I have always been sorry for your grandfather,” ho said with a sigh “>For all his money I don't believe he’s been happy. Your dear mollu r used to say money bad ruined his life. He thinks everyone, cares for him only for that.” 'He looked at. Judy, best beloved of them all. “If you go. Judy, sunshine will have gone out of the house, but 1 don’t think ynu ought to refuse. After all, think what a lonely old man he is.” Very slowly Judy turned, and looked at them through a sudden mist; she knew she could help them, and oh. how they all needed help, for their father was as poor as the proverbial church mouse. ‘Aes. 1 have decided. I'm going!" said Judy. “It'll break my heart—but I’m going!” Tho Adventure Bogins. It seemed as if the whole village had come to see her off from the station, although it was a five, mile journey. Xo one would have realised from th*? I noise they made that o\eryone lhero '

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felt as though they were loefng the most precious thing In their fife. What laughter, what Jokes to hide tbo pain behind! A young man who was in the corner of the carriage where Judy had been fixed, surrounded by the oddest conglomeration of luggage that had ever been seen on earth, was more than a little disgusted at the noise and laughter. He burled himself In his catalogue, then his lip curled in a sneer as he found it impoeeib’e to conj centrate on it because of the noise that exuberant pack made out there. And now it was nearly time for the train to start. Gilbert stood on the footboard and his words penetrated to the young man in the comer, for all his determination to dig himself in and shut out the world. “I say," he cried. “Won’t you be engaged, Judy, before you go?” he whispered, pleadingly. “I wish you would. I’d feel so much happier in my mind.” Over his paper the young man mw the girl hold up all her Angers, and then three. “That’s thirteen times!” she cried, and if there was a tremulous note in her voice the young man did not notice it. “Look outl It might be your unlucky number! I might say yes 1” ‘Don't be mean, Gilbert,” cried one of the crowd. “Don't bind her. Judy might hook a lord out there! It has been done.” Under the cover of the laughter. Judy squeezed Gilbert's hand, to soften her refusal. Ha Intarvenas. And then the train started up; and cheers and good-byes. To the young man’s astonishment, the moment they were out of sight, the laughter went and the girl dropped to a seat and began to cry with an amazing abandon. He stared at her in perplexity. If girls weren’t lhe limit! Here was he, having set his teeth and determined never to have anything more to do with the feminine sex, howeter great the provocation, alouo in a carriage with a girl, who was sobbing out her heart, and had already wet through a perfectly inadequate handkerchief. At last, unable to endure it, and exasperated half out of his skin, he picked up a magazine. “Perhaps this will serve to take your mind off,” he said stiffly. “Thanks very much,” said Judy meekly. “I’m sorry I’ve made such an exhibition of myself, but I've never been away from home before.” Without a word he picked up his catalogue of farm Implements which he had been seeing about. Those unruly people out there had disturbed him. But peace was the last thing he was going to get, for suddenly, without a moment’s warning, there oame a tremendoqs jolt, and a crash! To his astonishment the girl was shot across the compartment and into hia arms. ■For one breathless moment he stood clutching Judy. Judy’s face was close to his own. Surely there wasn't a man on earth who could have had that lovely -face as close as that and not be stirred; eyes like dark sapphire 1 po»Qls, hair that was like a net of sunbeams; long, dense lashes that curled unbelievably. Even in the midst of that rending, tearing noise outeide I and the sudden terrlflo jolt, he forgot his grouch against the sex and wanted to protect this appealing little creature in his arms. I “It's quite all right!” he said, soothingly. “Don’t be afraid." ”'I was scared," cried Judy, as she looked agitatedly up into the dark, moody, but handsome young face. He put her from him angrily. Actually he had been gripping her! “There’s been an accident!” he burst out. “Uh, we ought to be very grateful wer’e not hurt. Let’s get out and see if anyone needs aid.” “Just like a woman!” he thought, disgustedly. “Half-a-dozen sentencee in one breath.” She had turned and was at the door, trying to wrench it open. Somewhere a child was crying. Judy was there first, and had picked up the terrified mite, whose mother lay quite still beside him. It didn’t take Judy long to realise the woman had only fainted. “There’s some cowslip cordial in my siring bag,” said Judy, authoritatively, to the young man. “That will rouse her.” And he, who had no intention of obeying a girl, found himself meekty fetching it. Of course, help was soon avallabto, and they learned that it was only a broken coupling, which would be pirt right soon, and no one was seriously hurt, only a few bumps and bruisei, though the permanent way was tom up. But long before this Judy had got together a whole group, on the side of the railway cutting, and tlw young man was told off to fetch her queer baggage, and she sorted out home-made cakes, and great fat gooseberries, and little red-cheeked apples, as sweet as sugar, a tin of home-made butterscotch, a big apple pasty, and a cake. The village would be giad to know what a Godsend their good-bye gift® were, thought Judy, delightedly, m she saw her little flock getting over the shock. And the young man, a little haughty and dislant, could not help envying her. She was really wonderful with the children, and that little boy she had succoured might have known her all his life. Perhaps, after all, there were girls in the world who were decent and kind, girls who would not jilt a fellow at lhe first sign of disaster. “Come on.” said Judy, encouragingly, over the top of the crowd, “You ought to try this apple pasty, It fairly melts in your mouth.” And actually he found himself demolishing a great slice, and being glad of il, for he was getting • peckish." and he hadn’t had Uie ■forethought to provide himself with anything for emergencies. And tbe.i she set him Io tell tales, while «h< saw to the women who had been th! worst hurt, and he found himself rather enjoying himself. It was a couple of hours before everything was put right and thei were back in their places again. An 4 then, as the train started up, Judi* smiled at him. (To be continued.)