“Judy Says No!”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 148, 25 June 1931, Page 5

“Judy Says No!”

SERIAL STORY

(BY

WINIFRED CARTER.)

CHAPTER Xl.— (Continued.) Once he had warned her, the hypo- 1 crite, warned her against those men who mlg’ht be fortune-hunters, and he himself one of that Ignoble crowd! In that moment Judy forgot that she had been successful in her search. She forgot that she had accomplished her desire. All she could think of was Clive Crawford’s love-making—the dead set he had made at her after that flrst day or two. And she had believed in him I And now she knew the hateful truth, that he, and he alone, had done this abominable thing I Why,, he had never meant to help her to clear Nicholas's name, because he had known well enough that If ever she did that he would be found out. She fumbled in her little bag and took out a wholly inadequate Handkerchief and mopped her streaming eyes. And then someone spoke. A Harlequin wandering in the grounds had i'ome upon a poor weeping Mary Queen of Soots. “Why, Judy,” he said, “what oa earth has happened?” She lifted her tear-stained face to his. Sitting there on the edge of tho fountain she made an irresistible picture. Unconsciously she stirred him. The Mary Stuart cap, edged with pearls, set off her exquisite beauty superbly. The huge wired collar of lace and Jewels, the gorgeous, sumptuous frock, with Its billowing, swaying lines, suited her. It was as though suddenly little Judy from the country had grown up. He had never realised before th-at she was a woman. But In that moment It seemed to Nick as though scales fell from his eyes, and an indescribable tenderness flooded him. Judy, who had comp, hated by everyone here, to win all hearts.

“Tell me who has hurt you, Judy,” he said sternly. “I’ll delight in giving the bounder a horse-whipping.” Nick’s voice sent strange tremors down Judy. It stirred faint harmonies in her breast. She trembled a little, clasping her hands one over the other. He sat beside her and drew out his own big handkerchief. “The Harlequin's task to wipe away your tears, fair mistress,” he said half whimsically, but there was tenderness, too, in his voice. “Tell me who is the guilty party to-day, Judy.” “I can’t tell you, not yet," she said sobblngly. “Has some blackguard been breaking your heart? I’ll make him sorry. Is that what is wrong, Judy?” How low, how sympathetic, was his voice I “In a way, and yet not in a way you think. Oh, Nick, I am so unhappy." He put his arm round her, and she leaned her red-gold head against the gaily-coloured dice pattern of his Harlequin suit. He could feel her qiverlng, and it hurt him, too. “I’d like to help you, Judy. You have helped me many a time.’ Right from the start you have bucked me up. I found there were blue skies beyond the grey. Odd how you could make me laugh. Do you remember? I can’t hear to see you miserable, Judy. Can’t you tell me all about it?” “Not yet,’’ she said; but somehow lhe tears were dried. Dear, dea? Nick! And she could clear him now, md she would.

“I have generally to comfort you, Judy,” he said softly. “My lot in life!" “You manage it pretty well.” There was just the faintest hint of laughter in her voice. “Tell me, Nick, do I look as though I have been crying? I can’t go back In there; I don’t want to, anyway. I wish I didn’t have to. I thought this was going to be such a wonderful night, but instead everything has gone wrong. I want to go back home." “Well, you shall, then,” said Nick determinedly. “I say, I’ll see you home. That is, if you won’t disdain the old motor-bike. The side-car’s on.”

“I’d love it,” said Judy, dimpling “Ever since I saw you that day with the ducks I have wanted to have a ride in it. It looks much more exciting than a car. Real fun, Nick, though not so thrilling as pillion.” “Well, perhaps It is fun,” admitted Nick. “It’s more uncertain, certainly. Com© along. I have not bothered to garage It; it’s in the shed in the flel.l next to this." So they crept out together. She whispered a message to the servant at the door, leaving him to explain to Lork Kenway that she had gone home. “My head aches," she told him—and It was true, and her heart did, too. And yet there was a thrill in going with Nicholas. He had got his motor bicycle out In front of the big gates. With an exaggerated gesture of courtesy he bowed before her. “Mary Queen of Scots’ chariot isn’t quite what it ought to be, but it can beat some of your cars for speed." She got in, helped by his eager hands. He pulled the rug up over her quilted skirt and tucked it under her round little chin. His fingers touched her cheek, and again that nameless thrill coursed through her. Under the starlit sky he moved off The old engine thumped away. An odd peace fell on her heart. After all, she had done what she had set out to do. She had got sufficient facts to clear him. But she could not give him back his faith In Enid. No, that was beyond her. Still, he would probably forgive Enid, for when hi.i grandfather made him heir again then Enid would come back. She loves him, mused Judy, not enough, but still perhaps as deeply as she can love. And Nick will forgive her. And then she began to cry again, so that, he gave a puzzled look at her and drew up. “Judy, I Insist on knowing what is wrong. Remember, I am your cousin. It's only fair to tell me. Who knows but what I might be able to help you ?" But she was adamant; not a word could lie get from tier. And in the end, exasperated and rather worried, 100. he ran her up to the front (fOflr of Harmer House. As iho helped her out something appealing about, her touched him to a new sensation. Looking down at the quivering lips and wisty eyes some strange impulse animated him. Before he realised what he was about to do he had put his arms round her, and \ery gently he kissed her o.q Uij lips.

“Good night, little cousin.’’ he saia softly, and was gone. CHAPTER XII. Judy Knows. Judy stood there, under the starlit, heavens. From bhe distance the sound of the band came, faintly, throbbingly sweet. She heard the sound ot Nick’s engine plodding away down the avenue. A finger seemed laid on her heart, something wildly sweet stormed through her. It was as though she could not breathe nor move. Then suddenly her hand went up to her eyes, as though to shut out some blinding, bewildering vision. She knew what had happened to her now. She knew why from the very first she had felt those strange, inexplicable feelings about Nicholas. She knew why she had been bo sure that he was innocent, and why she had laboured so hard to And out the truth. That kiss that he had given so lightly, which he had given because he was sorry for her secret woe, had told her the truth. She loved Nicholas. ... He who loved Enid, whose love was given so irrevocably to Enid, was the only man she could ever care fori With a feeling of desolation at her heart she turned. Almost before she could touch the bell the door opened and Mrs Crawford stood there. Clive had returned, and had told her that Judy had decided against him. “I’ll do what I can for you, Clive," his mother had said. And she was here now. She drew Judy In to the breakfast-room, and turned to her, her hands outstretched. "Clive came home a little while ago. He says that you don’t love him. Judy, you can’t break my boy’s heart." Judy did not speak, but she looked at Mrs Crawford sorrowfully. “You have encouraged him. Yon must admit that ever since you came you have encouraged him to think that you might care, and now you have refused him. Judy, think it over. I have set my heart on it. I have grown so fond of you, Judy. My dear, I want to be a mother to you.” “I am sorry,” faltered Judy. “I don’t love Clive." “What do you know about love?" said Mrs Crawford passionately. “Judy, no girl could help falling in love with my boy; he is so fascinating; he’ll make such a wonderful husband, and he loves you so." “Do you think he really does love me?” said Judy gravely. “What make* you ask that?" said Mrs Crawford, suddenly alarmed. “I think that if he knew I should never inherit grandfather’s property he would change his affections. Mrs Crawford, I know now that I shall never be grandfather’s heiress." “How can you know? The lawyer has been here to-night. There is another will I It has already been drawn up. I am quite sure that your grandfather means you to Inherit." "But you see I know something which will make grandfather change his mind. And in that case I am quite sure Clive would not want to marry me." Mrs Crawford did not know what to say. She, too, was equally sure that Clive would not want to marry Judy unless sihe had every prospect of inheriting Harmer House. But even she was a little put out to know’ how o get out of this awkward situation. “The best thing we can all do is to sleep on it,” said Mrs Crawford.

“I think so, too,” said Judy. She gave a weary sigh. “I wanted to see grandfather to-night." “But you can't, my dear; he has gone to sleep. He has had a very tiring day. Directly after you hid gone the lawyer came, and they have been at it ever since. That is why I am so sure that he is making you his 'heiress."

“I know’, but things have a way of turning out so differently from what we expect. Good-night, Mrs Crawford. I am glad that you no longer hate me.”

She turned and went upstairs dispiritedly. And, left behind, Mrs Crawford stared after her, a dazed look on her face. What was it that the girl knew that w'ould make such a difference to her own prospects? In a way Mrs Crawford had grown almost fond of Judy. There wts something about the girl that was engaging. One could not help likln« her. But, of course, If she was just going to be one of the country vicar’s brood, with no other distinction, then she was not for Clive. It was long after the first bird carolled forth its morning lay that Judy fell asleep. She had be°.v thrashing over in her mind what she was going to do about Clive. It went so thoroughly against the grain to tell tales about anyone, and yet for Nick's sake she would do even that I Only surely there was some other way I II was not until dawn broke over the hills that Judy had thought of the way. Next morning Rapson told Judy that her grandfather wanted her In the library. She went down as soon as she was dressed, to find that h was r*) for breakfast. It seemed as though years had rolled away from the old man. He looked at Judy with a proprietary air, almost amusing, if it had not been almost pathetic. Knowing what she knew, Judy felt her heart to'uched to lhe very core by this new attitude on her grandfather's part. As soon as breakfast vias over he took her into the library. And there Clive and Mrs Crawford joined them. “I want you all to know that last night I made my last will.” He took it from his pocket and put it down on the desk in front of him. “1 shall never make another one. 1 shall never change my mind. Judy is to be my heiress.” He turned and put out both his hands towards Judy, but she drew back. “Wait a minute, grandfather," she said, and her face was pale and her eyes were dreary. "There is some thing I have to tell you.” He looked anxiously at her. "Do you mean that you have turned Ken way down?” he spluttered. She gave a most heart-rending sigh. If it was only that I "No. it is not that that troubles me, though he did propose, and I did refuse him." b« •oalinufO.), I