SERIAL STORY “Judy Says No!”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 138, 13 June 1931, Page 9

SERIAL STORY “Judy Says No!”

(BY

WINIFRED CARTER.)

CIIAPTI.II ATI leonUmied;. ; 'Phere was no doubt about if. Judy I was aigreat success that night. In spite of all Mrs Crawford's hopes that ■Judy would disgrace her grandfather she did no such thing. Perhaps she was not used to big dinner parties, hut she had a quiet self-possessioci of 'her own, and the fact that her grandfather was pleased with her was enough to make Judy shine. It helped that Lord Kenway look i her in to dinner. : “I felt dreadful at first, but now I'm j as right as rain.” she confessed .and was a little startled at the pleasure her words gave him. She was not aware how eagerly the guests watched her. The fact that she was to be old Harmer's heiress was interesting enough, but Lord Ken way's devol ion made it a thousand times more thrilling. It was a romance! and to watch it unfold was joy. “Judy,” he said, “you’ve not settled the date of tho dance.’’ “Am I to choose?” cried Judy, with i artless pleasure. “What day shall it [ be? I have never been asked to choose the date of a big dance,” she confided to him. “I wish Patricia could be here. She loves dancing.” “Patricia?” said Lord Kenway, hi? eyes fixed on the eager face. “My sister. She is older than I am, and not a bit like me. She is dark, ( with great big owl’s eyes. You would think that she was frightfully mysterious if you did not know her, but she’s not a bit mysterious, hut just a dear. Oh, dear, I oughtn’t to talk about her 1” “Why not?” said Lord Ken way.

. puzzled. “Because grandfather would oe j scandalised if I burst Into tears. “So should I,” said Lord Kenway, I his eyes twinkling. “I promise I won’t, then,” said l Judy. “And since there are two of you I must beware.” Judy’s laugh broke out, exquisite. ! like a bird’s note. j Signor Farnovitch, one of the i guests, looked at her thoughtfully. 1 Pretty, young, and with a laugh like a i chime of bells. Character, too, In that I face. He waited with what patience • he could muster, for old Harmer had ; Invited him for a purpose. Others watched her, the pretty, in- | genuous child. What a note of whole- | some mirth she added! The most im- | portant people in the country liked her I at first sight. Watching her covertly and seeinc • how her eyes sparkled and how pretty I she looked, and how nappy she i seemed, Clive realised that he must not beat about the bush. If lie intended to win Judy he must not hesi- | late. There was no doubt about It. 1 Henry Harmer would prefer Lord Kenway as a suitor for her. It was almost a passion with the old man Io add acre to acre to th° Harmer estate. And it would he a delicious thrill, the bare idea of linking the Kenway and Harmer estates. Once that happened it would be good-bye to any chance of Clive Crawford benefiting by Henry Harmer’s death. Dinner over, they drilled into the drawing-room. And there, a hint of pride in his voice, Henry Harmer told Judy to go Io the piano and sing. “Come with me,” said Judy to Lord Kenway. She felt as if he were an' old and tried friend, much more like the homo people than anyone else she had met here. “I’m scared by myself.” It was on his longue's end to tel! her that that portly, handsome, foreign-looking man talking to her grandfather was a world-famed musician. But, looking at her, he decided that it was bell er not to warn her. She was so artless, this girl. Let her sing to them all in her own pretty fashion. lie- thrilled that she wanted him beside her. Old Farnovitch, keen critic though he was, could not think her anything but charming. And though he was no judge and thought Judy’s voice marvellous even old Signor Farnovitch

must be pleased. So Judy sang the old Scotch songs which she loved—folk songs. Then, because her grandfather urged again. ; a negro spiritual. The people of the ( parish loved Judy to give them tho old spirituals, and her voice wts peculiarly filled to sing them. She got the wail, the low, lilting harmonics ■ exquisitely, and she sang, “It's Me, U Lord, Standing in the Need of Prayer.” i And “Nobody Knows de Trouble 1” And last of all. “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” And then she stopped. “I don’t know why you let me go on so long!” she said, looking round and blinking a little. Actually she bad been transported, away from this great drawing-room, with its magnificent furniture and dazzlingly-drossed women and handsome, courtly men. She had been 1 back in the old schoolroom; eager > faces were watching her; old and young had gathered round, listening to her. It was as though she could hear them clapping and encoring her. Almost she could have expected Gilbert to say; “That's enough for tonight, Judy. You come along and have a cup of coffee and a sandwich after all that.” And yet it was Lord Kenway who was there, and her grandfather, and that strange, dark man whom she had scarcely noticed before. “It was a rare treat,” said Lord Ken way, in a moved voice. “Oh. thank you.” said Judy gratefully; “I am so used to 1 singing half-a-dozen at a stretch that 1 forgot.” “This is Signor Farnovitch,” said her grandfather in a pleased voice. “1 j did not tell you, Judy, but J particularly wanted him to come to hear your voice. 1 had got an idea it was something rather good," I “My voice, grandfather?’ said Judy. “Yes, m\ dear; he is quite pleased with it.” “Quite pleased with it is mild praise.” said Hie Signor. “1 am delighted with it. Miss Judy. [ think jou have a great organ there. our grandfather will give you permisison Io have it, trained, but you must. work, for a voice like that is not to he lightly disregarded. To me a voice like that is heaven-sent.” “Oh, it is not as good as that,” said Judy, with a swift smile; “but It’s kind of you Io say so.” “1 never He about a voice, jotina woman,’’ said the Signor firmly. “T »J me it would fip a crimiuai offence; to]

me a voice is sacred. Do you understand?” "if one had a voice like an old crow?'' broke in Judy helpfully, and did not see the smile that flickered over the faces of the guests who had gathered round at her ingenuouaneaa. j “I would tell you you had a voica like an old crow,” he admitted. “I would certainly never say anyone hud a good voice unless I thought it was the truth. But you. you have the organ. I toll your grandfather so. He is willing for you Io be trained. Wh.it do you say, young woman? II will mean hard work. it. means doim? W’hat 1 say." “I have always wanted it.” cried Judy, clasping her hands ecstatically. “Grandfather, you darling!” Before them all, she flung her arms round his neck. “1 call it kind, ever so kind. I will work hard. I’ll do my best. It s dreams come true for me.’’ “Good!” said the old man. with .i nod of satisfaction. “ \nd now, good people, go to the ballroom. For the first time for many years I have had it opened. There is a band there only waiting for my word.” Enid, who had known nothing about this, and who had never dreamed th.it old Henry Harmer, who was so conservative in his ways, would ever op»* i the ballroom for anyone on earth. I•''L again the sword turn in her heart. CHAPTER VIII. Mother and Daughter. “T hale, hate, hate the girl!” said Enid. Like a veritable wild thing she paced up and down in her mother s room, her hands clenched, her eyes blazing. “A little nobody, a country parson’s clod-hopper daughter. And then she sweeps the board like that ! It's hateful, mother. 1 can't go on staying here if she remains.” “Be patient, Enid,” said Mrs Crawford uneasily. She had never seen Enid quite so desperate. “She has only been here a short while. W<j haven’t had a chance to do anything.” “We have got to make a chance.” said Enid, striking one hand against the other. “Clive won't help us. lie's got his own ideas.” "You mean,” said Mrs Urawforl; “you think he is considering marrying Judy? Well, why not?” “Just as though her grandfather would let him!” stormed Enid. "Mother, don't go on encouraging that, because I am quite sure Henry Harmer will never let Judy many Clive.” “1 don’t see why he shouldn't.” said Mrs Crawford indignantly. “• Hive's ■ far better match than you seem ‘o think.” “I know quite well that Ciivc L .< sponger on Henry Harmer's charily. He is supposed to do work about Itn estate, but precious little he ever does. We are alike there, parasites. 1 don't believe that Henry Harmer will i»-t Clive marry Judy, or if he doe* Its wiH not leave them a pennv piece. I am warning you, mother; I him better than you do. He’s a horrid mean, old man who keeps us ali dancing like worms on a hot shov I If you don’t do something to gel that girl out of hero I am going to dept: myself. Even Roger was staring .< her the other night." i “You have no need to fear abou; Roger Bourne, my dear." said Mrt Crawford, with a sigh. "Long ag<« wanted you to think seriously of him He Is so very rich." “And so very objectionable " s.i Enid, who was wo angry to choosi her words. “No man who is as rich as he ii is objectionable,” said .Mrs Crawford reproachfully. “Well, 1 mean Io marry him." said Enid, “so there is no need to start lecturing me about him. But, mother, do put on your thinking cap and Iry and get that girl away. Can't you make grandfather sec how impossible she is?” “She seemed very possible, to-nighl.'* said Mrs Crawford. “Really, Enid. L exasperated me how pretty she looked. If 1 had only dared to get her a frock that did not suit her! But 1 dared not. After all. I don't know what would happen to us if he turned us out, and he is quite capable of doing it. It’s a wretched position, being under the heel of that cantankerous old man.” “Well, I'm going Io bed. hu! you do understand that you have to <ia something?” Enid swept out of the room and la her own room. She was thoroughly unhappy. She knew quite well th»| Roger Bourne was only awaiting Dig right moment to propose for her hand. He might admire Judy. but. ne was in love with her. But the idea was ono that instinctively she meant to pul <»ff for as long as possible. . « Once she became engaged to Rogei Bourne, he would insist on an early marriage. He. was not a patienj man. And she—she loved Nicholas, not enough to marry him with hii prospects, but enough to make Hii idea of marrying any other man a in--si unpleasant prospect. Unjustly' she blamed everything on to Judy. If Judy had not come, if only there was something she could do to spoil her chances! Next morning Enid Crawford, who was a light sleeper and who had had a disturbed night, waked to heal someone going softly past the door, It was not one of the servants, for n| servant wuld wander about this pad of the house so early in the morning. She got up and put her head out of the door just in time to see Judy disappearing down the staircase. Whe-i was she going so early in the morning? Enid Crowfofd, wise in hei own generation, did not beliexe ia trusting anyone, and instantly sin was quite convinced that Judy went out in the early morning to meet someone she could not bring to the house. “Something disgraceful a going on.” she thought to herself, and she slipped into her molhe: • room. Mrs Crawford dressed rapidly. Hall' an hour later site was following on Judy's track. She was puzzled as Io where t' e girl had gone. Through the woods certainly, but where then? Then she heard voices over the hedge where Harmer’s Rest was. Judy was sitting on the bench outside the door, < was eating a bowl of bread and mill., and enjoying it, 100. "Want sonit sugar in }«>itr bread ami milk, Judy?* To he ■ecuiUauedu)