“THE PRIDE OF LOVE.”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 306, 28 December 1936, Page 5

“THE PRIDE OF LOVE.”

A THRILLING SERIAL STORY—

By

COMPTON IRVING

At last she realised that time was speeding. “ I must fly,” she cried. “ And not a word to a soul, mind, about you and me- 1 couldn't 'bear it!” “ One more kiss then,” he demanded. And after that sweetest of embraces she hurried oft to her work. Th® Shadow. Two weeks sped by, and Betty and George still kept the secret of their love. And then came tragedy. Sir John was taken ill, and the doctors could hold no hope of his recovery. Fenner Hall was a place of gloom. In that spacious bedroom, where the Fenners had been born and died for the past five hundred years, Sir John lay dying. In Hie ante-chamber were nurses, anxious friends, and two doctors. George and his aunt and uncle were also there. “ Are you sure there's no hope, doctor?’’ George asked, anxiously, for lhe twentieth time. “ I’m afraid not, my boy,” said the doctor. “There might be just a hope if we could get Sir Anthony Jones down to give him one of his special injections.” George’s face lighted up eagerly. “ But I doubt if it will be any use,” continued the doctor, discouragingly. “ We can but try," cried George, and he hurried down to the telephone. As a result of his urgent appeal lhe great specialist said he would come. George was Io meet the train at the junction five miles away. As George hurried down he met Belly on lhe stairs, attired, of course, in her nursemaid’s uniform. “There’s nothing wrong?” she asked, quickly, with sudden Intuition. “ I’m rushing off Io fetch the specialist, ’’ he said. “ Just a forlorn hope. I fear.’’ “ I'll look after him.’’ said Betty. ’ I've volunteered Io relieve the nurse 'or a few hours.” “Em glad.’’ said George, “1 know father will be all right with you, tear.'’ “ I promise,” she said. *’ Good-bye, iear!’’ With Itial. they parted, he to fetch he specialist, while Belly went silently up lhe thick carpeted staircase md along the broad passages to the :rcat bedroom. As she passed 'through the ante•oom, she saw Mr and Mrs Mervyn ■hatting quite happily with some riends away in the corner by the fire. -Hie wanted Io round on them, tell hem -what she thought of them. Tears came to her eyes as she saw Hr John’s white, haggard face. Yes, ■e was struggling for life. “ H's all right, Sir John,’’ she vhispered, liearteningly, as she inoolhcd his pillows. And then, putting a gentle arm mind him, she raised the emaciated orm and held the cup of beef-tea to he pale lips. “ Try and drink some, Sir John,” he urged, gently. The invalid looked up into her face —perhaps he dimly recognised Betty's .nice—and then he drank as though .villi satisfaction. “ Thank you, my dear,” ”he said, as he gently allowed him Io go back (gainst lhe pillows. “ You're very and.” Betty thought of those whispering riends; thought of Mr Mervyn Fenier and his wife: yes. there was no loubt about it, they all wanted the. ’nd to come. The old man s weary eyes opened mil regarded her. You look as though you’d be sorry when i die," he said, at last. " Oh, 1 should be, sorry, sir,” she said. “I've been at Fenner Hall for' two years, and you've never given lie. a cross word." “ You’ve been a good girl, Belly," lie said. “ And you've always a bright smile, for everyone.'’ “ Oh, thank you, Sir John,’’ saic Belly. A whimsical smile came over the aged face. “Do you remember the day you upset my ink-pot over my writingpad?" he chuckled faintly. ’’ I shall never forget that, sir. 1 felt just awful." “I’m sure you thought you were! going to be dismissed—if not put into' prison for life," he smiled. “ It was very clumsy of me, sir," she said. “ And you were so good about it." The old man lay silent for a little while. Presently his eyes opened, and he heaved a sigh of relief. “ I'm glad you've not left me," he said. “ Those others—they’re ah right, t suppose, but I can't help feeling they look on me as rather s nuisance who would be best out ot the way." Betty put a soft hand gently on the emaciated one that rested on the coverlet. She knew what he meant. “ Everybody knows I’m dying," he went on. " And nobody seems to mind." “Excepting Mr George," put in Betty. “Yes, excepting George," agreed the old man. Then he looked round. “Where is George now?” “He's gone oil to letch a specialist." “I’m glad George is fond of me," he said. Then his brow' darkened. "But the others will be glad." And then his head fell back, and It seemed as though he were hardly breathing. Betty started up in some concern. What ought she to do? She hurried across to the door and opened It, but there came through a cackle of laughter from Mrs Mervyn Fenner and the others, so she closed the door. No, whatever happened, couldn't have them in! And so she returned to the bedside. She sat there for half-an-hour h q.ii g < ud pr<.yiug that George would bring the specialist in time. Sti’.l Sir John lived. His breathing, though go taint, still continued. Presently the door opened and Mr and Mrs Mervxn Fenner came In. “1 *ay. what are a doing sitting there?” denu-ndeq Mrs I enner making uo attempt to lower her voice.

“Hush!" whispered Betty. “He’s asleep." | Mrs Fenner leaned over lhs bed for a moment. | “It’s coma," he decided com- : placenlly. “We’ll not wake him again, | not on this side." I “He can’t be gone yet," urged Meri vyn Fenner, frowning. “1 wanted a ! word with him." “Hush!" said Betty in a peremptory whisper. ’’Here! You get out of here!" insisted Mrs Mervyn, resenting the rebuke. “Go and see If Master Bobby is asleep." | It was rather a shock to them when | that voice came from the bed. ; "I don't want Betty to go," said Sir John firmly. “Don’t worry, Betty," he said. “After all, nothing much I matters now. 1 know my time has come." Then he turned to his brother Mervyn. “Well, what do you want?" Mervyn Fenner took a piece of foolscap from his pocket and then a fountain pen. “It won’t lake you more than one minute, John," he wheedled. “I’ve drawn up a codicil. 1 want you to add it to your will. J want you to appoint, me as agent Io the Fenner estate for life, and also Io arrange that my son's education at Elon and Oxford shall be paid for out of your estate. See, it's all written out. It only wants y.our signature." Betty started up in great indignation. She wanted to cry out in outraged protest. “Silence, girl!" Insisted Mrs Fenner angrily. “Well, John, you will sign, won’t you?" pleaded Mervyn. There was silence for a few moments; then that tired voice said —- “No, I will not sign! I’ve been paying off your gambling debts ever since I came into the baronetcy. Your wild extravagance and gambling have made it necessary that I should stint bolh Eric and George all thetr lives. Not another penny of min® shall you have!’’ That was a complete blow to their hopes. You old skinflint.fumed Mervyn Fenner. Suddenly Betty was like a thing possessed. "oil, please!" she cried, ablaze with anger; and hurrrylng to the door she opened it. They took the hint. Betty now hurried back Io Sir John. “There, there, Sir John I” she whispered soothingly. "Don’t be alarmed, Bellv," he chuckled. “I feel all the better for that. I’ve wanted to gel that off my chest for lhe last twenty yearsl" “I meant to protect you from that sort of thing, and I’ve failed," cried Betty miserably. “You did protect me," he insisted. “If you hadn’t been here they inlgul have terrified me into doing what they wished." “Uli, thank you!" cried Betty, tears starting io her eyes. “Give me a drink, will you. dear?” he said at last. .She was settling him back against lhe pillows when lie said — “Hold me in your arms." H was such a tired voice. “Do you mind?" “Of course 1 don’t!" said Belly, lhe tears again slinging her eyes. He sighed happily as he felt tho-sc lender arms round him. Presently there came that gentie voice, so faintly—“As one whom his mother comforted). so will 1 comfort you." Then followed a long sigh as he sank back into Hie Everlasting Arms. Suddenly Betty knew, and the tears rained down her checks as she gently laid him back against, the pillows". What a tragedy was this human life! ll< .'•■ was she, so vital, so bubbling o'. n lite, and here was all that i of Sir John Fenner. He ■wer speak again. . uini was dead I Dead! How . a I Site, was glad she bad been kind. She had always done her best Io please Sir John. * * • ♦ Betty bad borne up for George's sake. And now, when al last he arrived, it fell to her to break the new* Io him. George went up to his dead father's room with Sir Anthony. But Hie specialist could do nothing. Sir John was beyond all human aid. Late that evening it bad just struck mid-niglil.—something impelled Betty io creep up to Sir John's room. Tomorrow the relations from far and near would arrive, and Betty wanted just to stand there, alone with Hie old man who had always been su .vind Lu her, wanted, as it were, to nay good-bye. To-morrow; as likely as not, she would not be allowed in he room. As she entered and stood there in .he dim lire-light glow, suddenly George’s voice came Io her. It gave tier a great start. “Is that you, Betty?" He bad been silting there al the ■edside all the time. "I’m so sorry lor him, George," she said, tearfully. She felt George s a’.i: c m.: i •; . iboul her. “Father will be all right," he as-.-ured her. Betty was grateful for this assur“Do you realise, Belly," he said, presently, "there is nothing now' to keep me in England. What do you say, dear, if you and 1 sail for South America the day after poor father's iuneral ?" “But would he want it?" said Betty. “Father knew just what a splendid - j-l you are," he said. “Father would : e happy to think you were the one who was going to take care of his George.” Still Betty felt dubious. “George, you know' I want to go. Uh, I'd love it!” she cried. “But would it be right?” George strained her to him. “Betty dearest, why should I leave you behind? Why should we have to iive for months and months al oppos;te sides of the world? Do say you will come, Betty! 1 have Just enough to pay our passage." |To be continued.)