"The Success Mark Wyngate,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 28 April 1927, Page 7

"The Success Mark Wyngate,”

A CHARMING STORY OF DOMESTIC LOVE INTEREST,

BY UNA L. SILBERRAD. Author of “The Good Comrade,” “Desire,” “Ordinary People,” etc., etc.

OITA PTER XIX.—Co n t inu ed. Why hail Judith come there, insisted on coining in spite of everything? Why had she worked ns she had worlteded? For the sake of ambition? Hardly; reason plainly showed there was little gratification for Judith in success. For the sake of science ? This ignorant Gamlin did not know what the love of; science was; he could not understand Its far-reaching appeal. It might well be that the love of science had called Judith to the work—except perhaps, that there was not so very much pure science in the undertaking,

at least not now. For love of him? No, ten times no! She would never | have done it for love. He could never 'have inspired such love. Moreover, at the outset had she not refused to marry him ? Mark felt sure in this, though not sure what motives had actuated Judith. It had not occurred to 'him to think of her motives before; they were friends, fellow workers; they always had been, and so it had come about that the firm was founded for mutual work and mutual benefit. And so, too, it had come about that it was carried on, even after the difficulties raised by, Mrs Millington and set aside by Judith as unworthy of a moment’s consideration. Mark thought about it, both about the founding and the difficulties, and fertile first time really saw how much more than the secret Judith had cast into the common fund. Bob Gamlin was very nearly right; she had given all, and she could take but very little i n return. A great, almost reverent, admiration stirred in Mark’s heart as he thought of the sacrifice. He felt suddenly that lie had never known this woman with whom he had so closely worked. Had he really known it is doubtful if this would have occurred; he would have at least tried to prevent it. She should not have given all for nothing —youth and strength and friends and name. Ilis eyes flashed as he thought of L'ilv and the Gamlin girls, the little mean souls who dared to fling mud at Judith —Judith, who towered above the greatest of them! . But there should be no more of it. He could not undo what was past, but he could at least prevent a further sacrifice. From that night Judith should be free of the works; he would carry them o n alone. Her share of the profits should bo paid to her regularly. That was the only connection she should have with them. She had far more than earned whatever she should receive. He would be glad to. work on alone for both. Mark sat down and took up his pen again; he had settled matters to his own satisfaction as far as he could. He could not give Judith back that which she had lost, but she was still young; she would, be rich; she had brains and strength and beauty. There was time for her to have a fresh start, and make something of her life yet — something better than becoming Mrs Robert Gamlin. Mark smiled a little at the- idea. But somehow the smile died away. The idea was absurd, of course, but the love was not all absurd —this foolish, unreasoning, unselfish love which had made a small nature great. It was mad, but it was a somewhat divine madness. Mark felt cold ami humbled.

He wrote a couple of letters. Then he began to think what life would bo like when Judith was gone. He stared straight before him into a long vista of loneliness, utter loneliness, which chilled! him. He would get a man to work with him, a scientist, possibly a German. There need be no mental isolation for a chemist who succeeds largely. But no one could take Judith’s ; place, could know the history of the past years; there would be no bond of shared effort with another, shared failure, shared loneliness and hunger and fight —those things which they never mentioned and never forgot. Mark swallowed something in his throat as his mind flew back over the years to the far-off days when Judith-first came : down to the forge, the days when he stole Mrs Millington’s bread for her, and slie helped him make shift in his : boyish experiments. And to the long years which followed, when, sometimes together and sometimes apart, they had struggled upwards for the same end, and that end his end., What a friend she ]ad been! Mark had never fully realised it till that night, but he knew it then. Nevertheless, he was determined she should go; he would keep her no longer. He "would face the loneliness and the work and the innumerable irritating difficulties of the start '•■l Germany alone. Now, these last difficulties —commercial, financial, linguistic and scientific would be grei>-. Mfik knew that, and had it been at Jail possible to f carry on the work in England he would willingly have sacrificed a moderate proportion of his profits to do so. But, unfortunately, owing to the wise British arrangement by which raw imports for manufacture arc taxed and finished products of foreign manufacture come in free, such a thing, was impossible at the sacrifice of a moderato proportion enly. The dye works demanded the use of much alcohol. Germany allowed untaxed. alcohol to the manufacturer, so to Germany he must go. Unfortunately for his plan regarding Judith, she knew that he must go to Germany, and .she also knew very well thedifficulties to be faced. And knowing this, she flatly and utterly declined to retire from an active share in the business when Mark proposed it. It is all very well 'to regard a woman as an equal and to give her an equal share of rights and responsibilities, but if she is at all capablo of doing justice to the trust the chanees are there will come a time when she will insist on keeping them against the will of her trustor. Mark had always looked on,Judith as an absolutely free

* (To be Continued).

equal; lie had even made an agreement of partnership with her, which gave her almost more than equal rights with himself. Now that he proposed her retirement, she drew his attention to the fact, maintaining her right to an equal voice with himself in tlie disposal of tiie linn’s future, and in the superintendence of its working. She had every right to stay in the concern, and she would not go, so she said. Murk was a person painfully open to the attacks of reason. Like many immovably resolute people, lie could be turned on the little pivot of reason and justice. He could not but admit the strength of Judith’s position, and the truth of her argument. Nevertheless, he was sot on her going, and so, admitting the justice of her words, he tried persuasion.. This was a method new to him, and lie was not very skilful with it; moreover, lie felt the matter in hand deeply, and as he could

never speak well of wliat he felt, he only hinted very awkwardly at the saerifiee she had already made. But she flamed round on him suddenly. "You know nothing about the sacrifice I have made," she said, "neither does Bob Gamlin. Oh, yes, I can guess. He went to you last night, but I should hardly have thought you would pay attention to him. • You might surely allow me to be a better judge of my own wishes and advantages than he. You know perfectly well I took up the Irisccne to please myself, and I am going on with it to please myself. As for Germany —of course I am coming. I am a partner. You say yourself that I can come if I want to, and that neither you nor any one else can make me stay behind. " "I can ask you to stay," Mark suggested. For a moment she looked surprised. It was not Mark’s way to ask. " I would rather you did not," she said. ' Still he did ask her, but without result; for once she refused him, and for once lie failed to achieve that on which he had set his heart. He had at last met something stronger than his own iron will—the fire of a woman’s love. Judith knew that neither he nor the works could well spare her yet. CHAPTER. XX. THE; FIRM MOVES. The forge stood empty, desolate; the long disused waterwheel.fallen entirely to decay now; the roof sloping sideways; the door, unmended and unopened, sagging from its rusty hinges. Within, bare solitude reigned; the hearths cold, the shelves' empty. The fierce heat of the simple forces of iron and fire had long since gone, and the yet fiercer heat of the complex human energies that had strained and sweated there were gone too now. Behind the forge, the cottage was tenantleSs, the windows fast closed, the chimney smokeless. On the common Bubb’s hut was left to fall slowly to pieces. The winds of the winter had carried away part of the roof; the grass of the spring had grown about the pathway; rabbits peered through the empty door-place at the skins that hung tattered on the walls; bees, haunting the gorse bushes, hummed at the cracks that the July sun made in the shrinking wood- * work.

The firm had moved; partners and chemists and clerks and workmen, the whole staff and plant of the Iriscene Dye .Works—Mark, Judith, and Bubb. They, with their hardly-earned capital, their secret, and their tireless energy, had gone to Germany, there to set up new works on a large scale, and to take their place among the trading firms of the commercial world; for the days of the early struggle were over, and the old forge, which had seen the birth and perfecting of the work, was left desolate. The firm had moved in the beginning of the winter. The scene of the new enterprise was a certain town on the banks of the Rhine. Not at all a beautiful town, nor a romantic situation. The Rhine is not everywhere romantic, nor the Rhine country everywhere beautiful. This town was a purely manufacturing centre, and the surrounding country flat and agricultural.