Island's Thorne

Waikato Times, Volume 103, Issue 17365, 29 March 1928, Page 3

Island's Thorne

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Synopsis of Previous Chapters.

CHAPTERS I. and ll.—The Master of Island's Thorne. John Ismay Thorne, is warned by" his doctor that he is suffering from heart trouble which might prove fatal at any time. He determines to ascertain the whereabouts of a son he had disinherited over twenty years ago. He puts a notice in the "Personal" column of "The Times." A fortnight later he receives a letter signed "Sydney Ismay Thorne," and stating, "I am the only surviving child of the late Sydney Ismay Thorne." Later a wire is received intimating that Sydney intends to come north at once. Hugh Ormandy, the old man's nephew, is upset at the thought of his unknown cousin's presence at Island's Thorne. He had looked forward to inheriting the property at his uncle's death. He confides his trouble to Katherine Drury, who farms Parkhead, a property she has bought from the Master of Island's Thorne. She bids him "face things like a man." After his departure she acknowledges that the man she loves has much to learn. CHAPTERS 111. and IV. —Sydney Thorne is a girl typist in the employ of Simeon Levi, a Jew clothier, of London. He had shown her JohSi Thome's advertisement in the Times. She had written and wired to the Master of Island's Thorne. She asks for leave of absence, and Simeon Levi lends her £2O for the journey north. Sydney tells her mother, who is an invalid, of the loan, and that she intends to see her grandfather, although she bears no love towards him on account of the way he has treated her parents. CHAPTERS V and Vl.—Hugh Ormandy ds waiting at the station at Thornes for •the train- that is to bring his cousin. When the train comes in an elderly lady and a young lady alight. No other passengers. The elder lady is Lady Susan Croft, and ■the younger Sydney Thorne. Lady Susan welcomes the girl to the home of her fathers. Hugh overcomes his astonishment at having a girl for a cousin instead of the man he expected. The car draws up at a small old house of grey stone, and Mrs Eraser is introduced to Miss Thorne. Sydney is to spend the night at the Erasers. Hugh knowing his uncle hates women, gets more cheerful, and going to his uncle he announces that Sydney is a girl. Mrs Eraser treats Sydney hospitably, and she learns about her family, and many other items. Thyra Braithwaite, the maid, is deputed to wait upon her. The Erasers decide to give Miss Thorne a hint to steer clear of Park Head when conversing with her grandfather.

CHAPTER VII. —Continued. "Oh how perfectly sweet!" she cried. "I've never had such a lovely room in all my life. What is the name of your house, Mrs Eraser? I hope it is as nice as all the rest of it; a place like this ought to have a pretty name." "We ca' it 'The Nest," replied Mrs Eraser. "Yes," said Sydney, "I like that; it fits in with the picture of you and your husband living contentedly here. If only grandfather is as kind to me as you have been, how glad I shall be that I came. You know my grandfather, do you not, Mrs Eraser?" "Aye, I do." The woman's tone was nut enthusiastic, and a shadow came into the clear, keen, grey eyes.

"The Latrd is a queer 'body ye must ken, Miss Sydney," she said. "It broke his heart when he quarelled wi' your father aboot his marrying wi' Dinah Fietcher; he shut himsel' up and would see naebody, nor gang oot. He turned a' the women folk oot o' the house, and n-a woman gacs into Island's Thome. Lady Susan Croft did her best to get at him, but he wouldna' have owt to dae wi' her. Noo, lassie, get yer hat off, and I'll awa' and see if Thyra has supper dished. Leave rne yer keys and I'll unpack yer bit claes whiles ye sup." "I wonder if grandfather will see me," was the somewhat disconcerting thought which caused Sydney's heart to sink as she returned a little later to the room below: "It seems quite likely 'that he will not, and then what shall" I do? All this money and precious time will have been wasted. Oh, dear, I feel quite frightened of him. I haven't heard a nice thing about him since 1 came. How I wish 1 had stayed at home with mother." A dainty meal was set out on the table, and a tall, trim girl was there to wait on her. Thyra Braithwaile was the daughter of one of the underkeepers, capable, willing, and very happy in her services with the kindly Scotch woman who had known her from childhood. She regarded the squire's granddaughter with frank, interest as she served the well--cooked supper; this sudden arrival of the unknown Miss Thorne was a topic of the most absorbing interest to the whole of the village, a welcome break in the monoton v of rural existence, and Thyra felt that sh« would be persona grata in her circle of friends as being in the know of events at Island's Thorne. And 'the fact that a girl had arrived when a man was expected gave things a quite unlooked for excitement. "Where is Hark Head Farm?" Sydney inquired or alio girl 'as she cleared uway the remains of the supper "Is it anywhere near here?" "It's oop l* fell, aboot a mile awa , miss," answered Thyra, folding up the damask cloth with .care and precision. "When owd Dan Fletcher died, twathrec years syne, it was soM. A ledcly bought it. Squire hated the place 'tis said, and he wouldna keep it. Miss Drury it is that has it noo, turblc nice leddy, too, and she farms it hersel, 'and they say she is grand at t job. Sydney's eyes brightened. "Perhaps she will let me see ttic old place," she said eagerly. • My mother used V live there, you know, Thyra " »\yc I ken that," returned Thyra briefly ' "What time will ye like yer breakfast, Miss Thorne?" She carried .her tray out to the big kitchen, Where Angus Frascr rat smoking his pipe contented y by the pca-t fire, with his wife knitting opposite him. On the hearth lay a black spaniel, the keeper's constan friend and companion; and cuddled against the dog's glossy silk back was a -great cat wlroh purred happily. Thyra set her tray down on the table and proceeded to make coffee in a brown jug. ~ „ mp "Miss Thorne Das been asking me aboot Park Head," sho «id « she boiled some milk. "She want, lac 100 "Di d d V vou tell her owd Dan was dead?" she asked with vague uneasiness in her voice. "Aye " said the girl, "I dad. Then, as *h"e a cup and saucer on a little tray with the jugs of coffee and milk and sugar, "I telther Miss Drury was there."-

(By FRANCIS VIPOND

■ight.)

She picked up the tray and went out with it, leaving the old couple looking at each other doubtfully. "I wonder what Mr Hugh will say," the keeper said slowly, taking his pipe out of his mouth; there was a frown on his broad brow, and he looked perplexed. "It would male' sad work if it came to Squire's ears, what friends he and Miss Drury he."

"Mr Hugh will nae 'be wantin' Miss Sydney ganging' tae Park Head neither I'm thinkin'," said his wife. "I dinnu think she's a lassie to niak' mischief, but she doesna ken t' owd lad and his queer ways, and she micht let fa 1 a word in a' innocence tae set fat i' fire. 1 don't blame Mr Hugh gain' there as he daes; it must be awfu' dull for the laddie, but Squire is not likely tae see things in that lict. He'd maybe think he'd fallen i' love or sommat o' that nonsense, and then it would be a towrow."

"Squire hates V name o' Park Head," said Angus. "Gie t' lassie a hint, Jean, woman. Tell her to steer clear o' namin' Park Head when she's aboot Island's Thorne." "I will that." Mrs Eraser spoke with determination 'as she carefully picked up some stitches in the stocking she was knitting which she had dropped in her agitation. "We dinna want mair havers ower Park Head, the Lord knaws we've had enoo."

CHAPTER Vll.— The Reception.

Hugh appeared, as he had promised, in good 'time the next morning, bringing with him the intimation that John Thome wished to see his granddaughter as soon as possible. In 'the depth of his heart he was disappointed, for he had fondly hoped 'that when the old man learned that Sydney belonged to 4he hated sex he would have refused to see her and left her to return to the obscurity from which she had emerged without having any dealings with her at all. He hated himself for his pettiness, but at the same time he could no* help feeling very uneasy as to the turn events might take. He was very jealous as regards his own position and possible interference with his succession to the estates, which he was well aware was buiit on a flimsy foundation, and might be upset at any moment by some whim of his uncle's.

His manner 'to 'the girl, however, was far more cordial than it had been on her arrival, and Sydney felt more kindly disposed to the lone, sad-look-ing man who was now proving himself so thoughtful for her comfort. He had brought his car to take her ■to Island's Thorne, and as soon as she had put on her hat they started off for the dread interview. They sped down the road leading through the valley, turning presently under the old, grey, arched gateway into the park, he pointing out to her the various mountains and points of interest. There was an ancient, gnarled oak tree, stunted - and hollow in parts where some fugitive monarch had sought shelter and spent the night Hying from some battle in wheh he and his forces had been routed. On that fell, towering up to the left of High Pike, the beacons of Thornes had been lighted to give warning of Border raids, and with the one on the church tower it had told of the sighting of the Armada, when England trembled before the might of Spain. The drive wound slowly upwards in graceful curves; as they rounded a bend a great sheet of grey-blue water came into view; the road ran beside it, and now they were passing through a fine stretch of pasture land which ran down to the rocky shores of the lake. At the other side a line of mountains rose sheer from the water, which looked black from the shadow they cast upon it as they tovwred grim and bare, their summits clear cut and rugged against the blue of the sky. Little islands were dotted about the surface of the lake, and at the approach of Ahe oar, a family ol wild duck lied from a clump of reeds with noisy quacking to the safety of one of them. Another turn of the road brought them in view of an extensive house, low and somewhat straggling huddled on a large peninsula jutting far out into the water; it had once been a real island connected with the mainland by a drawbridge in >lhc davs when Island's Thorne had been a fortress. John Thome's grandfather had filled in the intervening space of water joining the island on to the mainland, and turning it into a peninsula, and though the old drawbridge was still there its purpose was gone, and it was preserved more as a curiosity than anything else. The squat, square tower at one end of the house was all that remained of the original fortress in which Sydney's ancestors had dwelt, and the Island's Thorne of to-day was a massive twostoried building constructed in the form of an E, the long part of the letter facing the lake, three wings running out landwards. The old house was built of the rugged granit?. of the surrounding fells, but its bleakness was tempered and softened by masses of creepers rambling over it, and at the moment a magnificent purple wisteria was a sight with its heavy trusses of fragrant blooms. (To be continued to-morrow.)