“The Courage of Love,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 16 January 1932, Page 7

“The Courage of Love,”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

CHAPTER XXlll.—Continued

“Yes, I’ve come,” said Francis Stanton, “because certain tilings have got to be settled between us, Felly. There are some things to be said to you that I’ve wanted to say to you for a good long while. First and foremost you’ve got to lot off bullring my mother. You know as well as I do that if she did help my father, she helped him innocently, and this threat that you have been holding over her all these years, forcing her to do things which are all against her nature, has been nothing but bluff, and you know it! Now that’s plain speaking, isn’t it?’’ Felly shifted his big from round in the armchair, and sat forward. There was a sneer on his face.

‘So our little bantam has actually learnt how to crow, has he?” he said, with an ugly note in his voice. “I don’t know whether I have learnt to crow, or what it is,” Francis Stanton answered him, “but I’ve surely been getting a little wise to certain things. Ferhaps I’m growingup. Ferhaps I see I’ve been a fool. Perhaps lam beginning to realise that you are nothing but a- bladder of blustering fury, a liar, a thief, and a man who walks much more, or should do, in fear of the law than any one of the other people whom you have been using for your own ends all this time'!”

“Stow that!” Felly shouted, and he got to his feet, approaching the youngman who spoke so boldly, in a threatening way.

But Francis Stailtoll stood hi§ ground. “I’m not afraid of you, Felly,” lie said quietly. “I told you just now we’d got to have it settlement., and I stick to that now. You want me to do something. I’ve got to play a part —l’ve got to marry this unfortunate, half-witted creature upstairs. Wen — what about it? Where do I come in. You’ve promised me a big sum of money when I’ve done what you want me to do, but that doesn’t satisfy me. No, sir—it certainly does not. I must have the money before 1 go a step farther. Is that clear?” “You little •! ” the other man began, and he poured out a stream of coarse abuse.

But Stanton still stood his ground. “Como on, Felly, don’t let’s have any argument,” he said. “I’m going to have the money—and have it now! You’ve had a good long innings, and I daresay you’ve thought you could get away with everything. But it’s my impression that you are only just going to begin to know what trouble means.” Then Francis threw away his cigarette and began to speak quickly. “Perhaps you haven’t seen an advertisement that’s been in the papers the last few days?—an advertisement asking for information from anyone with regard to James Ladbroko. That’s the name" of the girl upstairs, isn’t it? Well, now, let’s get to business. I’ve got to marry this girl, haven’t I? Why? I can answer that for myself,”—he struck the table with his. list —“because you can’t get the bulk of what sue s got unless you get her right into your hands —and I’m the person to give her into your hands. You’ve planned it all out very neatly. I’m to marry her, and s. o settle her property on m e—isn’t that the game? Well, how do you know I shan’t hold on to the property when she does that?” “Because you are not exactly a fool, Francis Stanton,” said the other man, and now he spoke with a sort of deadly quietness. “Yon aro all frilled up to-night, and somebody’s been putting ideas in your mind: but you don’t amount to a row of pins, and I’ll do with you what I choose! I’ll treat your mother just as I choose. Is that clear? ’ ’

"It isn’t the best way, my dear Telly, to go to work with me,” said Francis Stanton. ‘ ‘ And I want you to be a little more explicit. What are your plans with regard to this mock marriage? That you should be able to force this girl to sign any paper is easily understood, but I am not a witless, feeble girl, knocked out by a terrible blow on my head. I may not amount to a row of pins in your opinion, but I am out to get all I can for myself. And don’t you make any mistake about that! ” lie struck a match and lit a fresh cigarette, and Telly went back and sat down in the armchair. Suddenly he looked at Miriam Stanton’s son.

‘ ‘ Have you seen Ilenry Burke ? Has he been talking to you?” "I’ve seen Henry Burke,” the young man answered, "but lie wasn’t able to talk to anyone —lie was too drunk. All the same, Telly, you make a mistake when you let him drift away from you. He’ll blab; he can’t help himself; lie’s cut out that way. It isn’t going to be all jam for you! ” Then Francis Stanton /lung away the cigarette.

“Sow, then —come on! Tell me what your plan is, and also tell me just about how much money you are going to givo me. It’s got to be a right big" sum, you know!’-’

CHATTEK XXIV,

Several days went by, and days in which the weather was gloomy and grey, and Diana became more and more depressed and nervous. She clung to Miriam Stanton as if frightened of something strange circling about her. Sometimes the housekeeper Had the greatest struggle in inducing the girl to go to rest at night, or even to read. Through Edward Garrett, she brought in illustrated papers and magazines to amuse Diana, but the girl would sit with these papers in her lap, listlessly staring out of the window, and not troubling to look at tlio pictures or to read the stories.

She seemed to miss the kindly atten-

BY MADAMB ALBANESI. (Author of “Love’s Harvest,” “The Boad to Love,” “The Way to Win,” etc).

/To be Continued")

tions of the doctor who had been so interested in her up in the northern part of London, and sometimes she would speak about him. She was always gentle and sweet and grateful for everything that was done for her, and yet she was different. Her appearance was pathetic, and Garrett confessed to Mrs. Stanton that he could not bear to see her and realize how helpless she was and how ignorant of all that was going on about her.

“It just churns me up, Miriam,” the man said. ‘I guess I’ll go down to that place Middleston, where we picked her up, and see what 1 can find out for myself.” “Wait,” urged Miriam. And then she explained. “I had a. letter this morning from Frankie, only a few words saying that in a week’s time everything will be cleared up. I don t know exactly what he means because lie never told me what really was settled between him and Felly. And though you tell me not to be nervous I can’t help being a little afraid. After so many years of giving in to the will of this beast, I can’t help being afraid. Now I’ve got not only Frankie on my heart, but this poor sweet child.” “Well, you take everything that Francis writes you,” said Garrett. “And I can tell'you one thing: strange as it may seem, your lad is growing into a, mau. Like you, I don’t know what he fixed up with Felly, but I do know this much, that nothing can be done without him, and he is letting Felly know fins.”

They were talking in the kitchen, and suddenly they were interrupted. Diana had come running lib She had one of the illustrated papers in her hand, and she was trembling from head to foot.

“Look! Look!!” she said creitedly, “it’s the cathedral! Oh, how beautiful it is! i used to steal in there and listen to the organ playing. And there —there is a picture of the market place, and that’s Mrs. Slater’s shop. I used to go there sometimes and have a cup of tea. She was so kind to me. It was she who asked Hugh to come and drive me home. Hugh!’ The girl repeated the name in a hushed voice. “Hugh! Where is Hugh? I haven't seen Hugh for a long time.” “Sit down, my child,” said Miriam Stanton tenderly, “and let me see these pictures. It was a page of illustrations devoted to the old cathedral town of Middleston.

“It is a beautiful cathedral,” she said. “And you remember it?” “Oh, yes,” said Diana in a low voice. “I remember all these places. But where is Hugh?” she asked again. Garrett signalled a sort of quick look to the woman who was bending over Diana.

“Well, miss, what was his other name? Ferhaps we can help you.” Diana put out her small thin hands to her brow.

“It’s so stupid,” she said. “Just when I yiink I am going to rememeber something it all goes.” “Yes, but just think,” said Garrett coaxingly. “You remember the name Hugh?”

“Oh, yes,” said Diana: the colour suddenly flashed into the girl’s wasted cheeks. “Hugh,’ she said.- “Hugh WaVerley, yes, that’s the name! And I haven’t seen him since he was with me in the garden after dinner.” “Don’t distress yourself, child,” said Miriam. “If you don’t force yourself, you will probably remember everything very clearly soon. Diana closed her eyes, and rested her head against Miriam’s shoulder. “I feel so tired,” she said. “1 always feel tired when I want to remember things. ’ ’

" You are so cold, my dear,” said Mrs. Stanton, “come near the lrc; here s rather a comfortable chair. It is warmer in here than the sitting room; you musn’t bo in there so much by yourself. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’ ’

Barrett had moved across, and beckoned to Miriam Stanton to join him in the passage. He said to her hurried-

"I’m going to find Francis. This means a great deal, you don’t know how r much it means. Toor child!” he added. "I hope to heaven Telly won’t come on the scene just when her mind is beginning to clear itself. He may do her any amount of harm, you know. ’ ’

"I’ll tell you what,” said Miriam Stanton, and she spoke stoutly, "I intend to keep her in bed for a day or two. And what's more, I am going to tell Telly I intend to call in a doctor. I shan’t call in a doctor, but I’ve seen a very nice nurse going past here every now' and then. I think she must be a district nurse. I’U get hold of her. She seems to be so frail, this child:s he doesn’t eat enough, you know, to keep a bird alive!” "I’ll be back very soon,” said Garrett.

And with that he bent forward, and ho kissed Miriam Stanton. "Keep up

.our heart, my dear. We are going to come out on top.”

Instead of being allowed to get up as he ardently expected, Gresham Townlev, either through carelessness on his part, or because bo Had been so thoroughly overstarined, became so ill that Dr. Bravington installed a nurse to take care of him, and ordered that he was not to be allowed to get up for a considerable length of time.