The Troubled Journey

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 143, 18 June 1936, Page 9

The Troubled Journey

SERIAL STORY

By

MARGARET GLENN.

(Chapter VII continued.) His own desires always came sec- • Dnd. where Joan was concerned. Pro- • vided she was happy, he was quite satisfied. I He tucked her into the seat next i io the steering wheel, and started the I car. She noticed—Joan had always ■ noticed small things, from her childI hood dajs—that he was a capable I driver. He made no fuss at letting ’n the clutch; everything was dpne easily and without effort. I They drove through the crowded dreels of Southampton without talkng a great deal. Joan had more time to think, now. It was wonderful of Derek to have aken the trouble to fetch her from -outhampton, in order to make the imnedlate loneliness easier. It was typical of him, she knew. He had always >een considerate, and she, was sure hat he would always be so. She stole a glance at his profile as hey went along. He was handsome, in a mannish way, she decided. There was strength | ind charactor in the lines of his face. Quickly, (before she realised it, he looked at her and smiled. There was something in his smile which hurt her. He seemed to have a great confidence. It was almost as if he considered that he had already asked his great question without the use of words, and that her answer had been ■yes.” Yet, at that moment, she knew that her answer would have to be no.” More than ever she hoped that iie would not broach the topic that day. Ten miles outside Southampton, he drew up outside a small, friendly-look-ing cafe, for tea. They spoke little, as they had their light meal. Derek was wondering whether it would be fair to worry her, at that moment. He was keenly aware of the fact that she was likely to be more easily approached, then, than at any other time, and he told himself that it was not fair to take advantage of her loneliness. He wanted, desperately, to hear her say “yes” when he asked her to marry him; but he wanted to be certain that she loved him. At that time, he realised, he could not be sure. Consequently, he did not broach the subject that was near his heart. Joan appreciated his silence; she could almost follow' his reasoning. When he left her. outside the house where she was living, his hand-shake was very firm, and he said: “ You’ll remember, won’t you, that I'm always ready to help?” “ 1 know,*’ said Joan, quickly, and they parted. Mrs Gregory was waiting for her. Her new friend—Joan felt that she could not call this charming little middle-aged woman her landlady; it sounded too stiff and formal—was proving a very true one. Joan felt in many ways that she was nearer home, here, than she had ever been at Dancnesier since her mother had died. Sam, the Dalmatian, greeted her with his tail wagging nineteen to the dozen, and his great eyes fixed on her as though in expectation of great things. She smoothed his muzzle, delighting in the silkiness of his skin, and the way in which he nestled towards her. After a little idle conversation, while she had a light supper, she went up to her room. It was a pleasant little chamber. The chintz curtains at the windows I were clean and bright. The furniture, , though not heavy, was ample for her I needs and. to ma: e it even better, the | room overlooked the sloping grounds ’of a small park. A cool breeze was I blowing towards her, for the day had i been warm and sultry, although it was I mid-winter. As she undressed, she felt that she would go to sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, but she was disappointed. The past few months seemed to pass in front of her eyes as she rested there. The absurd little quarrel with Janet which had started this; the glorious sense of freedom which she had experienced in the first few weeks, the exultation of getting that job, the delight which she had in keeping it. And there was the very warm friendship of Felicity and Dick; the cheeky loveliness of Hubs, the solid reliability of Derek —those things and a dozen others. The last thing which she saw in her mind’s eye, however, before she dropped to sleep, was her father’s face, very fined, and tinged over so little with blue. CHAPTER VIII. Felicity and her husband had left England in the early days of January, after all. The next three months went very quickly to Joan, and the loneliness which had almost frightened her at first seemed a long way away. She was happy. There was no doubt about that. She enjoyed every minute of her life, even the little anxieties of her work; they seemed to be a part of her happiness; without them it would have been incomplete. One Friday in April, Geoffrey Matthews told her that in future she would not be needed at the office on Saturday mornings. She felt that everything was working wonderfully, for her. She could have the full week-end for herself, now, and with the warm weather coming she knew that she would enjoy them to the uttermost. She was just a little concerned about Geoffrey Matthews, however. Her employer was as courteous as ever to her, but to many others he was gruff, and even deliberately rude. The patience and good-humour which had characterised him in the first few months that Joan had known him had gone almost completely. Several times she had discovered that he had worked at the office until the early hours or the morning, and he seemed to get busier and busier. Yet she did not think that there was a great deal more work passing through the office than there had been. She became convinced that his worries were domestic ones. She had still not seen Ralph Matthews. although she knew him well

enough over the telephone. The younger man’s calls had not been so frequent of late. Joan wondered why. She was not, normally, curious, but she would have given a great deal Io know why her employer was so miserable. She was by no means sure that miserable was the right word, but it certainly explained his manner in many ways. And she asked herself why she had never heard him speak of his wife, nor speak to her over the telephone. It seemed that there was almost a mystery concerning Geoffrey Matthews’ home life. She had not made many friends at Matthews and Wyatts'. The girls in the general office seemed suspicious of her, and although they were all courteous enough the only girl who had taken to her at all was a fellow-secretary to the Export Shipping Manager. Dorothy Sayers was inclined to be tall, pleasant faced without being handsome or beautiful; and she was indubitiably clever. She spent most of her spare lime painting, and on several occasions she had invited Joan to her flat, where they had chatted over tea, and had gone to a theatre. Neither of them talked a great deal of themselves, nor of other people. They frequently spoke hardly at all during their evenings together, but each knew that the other had enjoyed herself. Dorothy had benefited from the ‘•no Saturday” rule as well as JoanThe general staff was not so fortunate, which created yet another of the invisible barriers between them and the secretarial staff. The second week-end which they had free Dorothy suggested that Joan should accompany her to her home in Sussex. Joan was only too pleased Io accept. She had spent several week-ends with Derek Graham, but for the next month Derek said he would be busy with some special pupils and she had been a little disappointed. This suggestion from Dorothy made a great deal of difference. When Derek heard of the idea he immediately suggested that Joan should borrow the Morris for lhe week-end. She had learned Io drive, and she had all the necessary licenses. Derek had taught her, with his cumtomary patience, and she felt quite confident of handling the car. She was surprised that Derek had not yet broached lhe subject of marriage. If ever a man was in love he was with her. He had told her once, of his previous marriage, and she had felt immensely sorry for him. She could easily understand now the reason for his seriousness, and the fact that his humour was never on the surface. He had suffered a great deal more than most people suspected. But she guessed that his first marriage had nothing to do with his diffidence in proposing to ner. If she had been head-over-heels in love with him she would have been worried, as well as puzzled. But she was still not certain that she loved him. He was a wonderful friend. She hated to think of what she would feel if he left London. But marirage with him . . . It was absurd, she told herself several times, the way in which they were behaving- They were looked on by Mrs Gregory and by friends of his as unofficially engaged. They never missed a week without seeing each other at least twice. And yet no word had passed between them. Why ? Joan did not realise that her owl attitude was the cause of it. Derek was very sensitive —and he dreaded to hear “no.” Gontinuallj he delayed speaking to her. He hopec against hope that that slight coolness would disappear; he sensed that she was not certain of herself, and he wanted to wai x until she was. But in all things, like lhe immediate offer of lhe Morris for that weekend, he was ready to help her. Dorothy Sayers was warmly appreciative of the offer, too. Both girls almost prayed for line weather that Saturday, and when i? dawned, with the sky hidden by lhe faint morning haze indicative of heat Joan jumped out of bed in high glee Mrs Gregory had put a spare room at Dorothy’s disposal for the night, anJ she was packing a luncheon for them despite their protest that they would be in Sussex before lunch time“You never know what will happen,” she said warningly. “Do you think we’ll run into £ house?” asked Joan. The three women were having breakfast, just after nine o’clock Sam was watching them, his ears cocked and his eyes fixed on their hands, for the slightest suggestion that a tit-bit was coming. Mr Gregor} had already left for work. “You never know,” repeated Mrs Gregory, cutting wafer-thin sandwiches. “Let’s all be cheerful,” said Dorothy in a deep voice. All three of them laughed. Joan discovered a different person in Dorothy Sayers that morning. Generally so quiet, Dorothy chatted brightly about a dozen and one things, revealing a general knowledge which astonished Joan. The latter had an impression that her friend had been relieved of some great worry, though she could not understand what it wasNot until they had reached Horsham, just after twelve o’clock, did i Dorothy speak at all seriously. Then her first words astonished Joan, for she had never heard the other girl speak of personalities. t “What do you think of Geoffrey Matthews?” asked Dorothy. “Mr Matthews.” Joan echoed the ‘ name. “Well,” she said hesitantly, i “I’ve always found him very pleasant.” “That’s more than a lot of others could say,” laughed Dorothy. Joan shrugged her shoulders and was quick to lhe defence of her employer. “He has a great deal to do,” she said, “and he doesn’t always get the co-operation that he needs. Besides | (To be