1 JOAN of the GREAT HEART
CHAPTER XIII.— (Continued.)
“ it’s true," .Joan,” he replied, “but ! life can he turned upside clown in less than two weeks. It ncpd take no more than an hour. The job is lo straighten it out again. We are going lo do that together in your ease, little Great Heart, are we'not ?” “Yes,” said Joan, “but you ought not to call me Great. Hert. Anthony,- I | am such a—muddler, there is nothing great about me.” “ Good,” he smiled, “ then all the easier for me to take care of. I hate dominant women who want lo put everything right their own way. How j I wish I were taking you back to the : i Court, Joan. I. don’t half like leaving 1 you at the Grange.” And Joan actually found herself echoing his word. Yet it was to the grange they went and nothing could have been kinder Hian Joan’s reception. Roth Erica ! and Aline did their best to make her . welcome, and the trim maid Ann was ! wanting to do all the unpacking and! helping in her power. It was foolish ; of Joan to feel so utterly alone when ; friends were so good: ridiculous to J feel chilled in an atmosphere of kind- j ness. ',v ! Mrs Baydcll seemed to have aged j in] the short' time, and her nerves j were obviously bad. Aline, who followed Joan to her bedroom that , evening, explained that Boris Flenton had not been discovered, but there j was a rumour that he had been seen : in the town near. “ I wish he could be caught and given twenty years,” added Aline, : “ poor Mrs Carraford is even more lo be pitied, though she is hard. Jerome has not written since she sent a message io say she never again wanted to see a son who had disgraced her. : . I do think she might make certain first that he had done what lie accused of. But there it is. By the ; way, Joan, the Marlins are coming to tea to-morrow, and bringing Mr Grefton with them. They have a house party- 1 am going over to their place for tobogganing, after lunch. I explained that you would not care, to come.” ' . „, “No ” said Joan, her back turned \ on the’other girl, “ I would rather not ; come, but ... Michael JS an old j friend. 1 wonder if lie would like to ; come over . . . early and have a chat , before all of you return. 1 should like , to-tell him about Dad.” . j “ Certainly,” agreed Aline, I ox pect he would be glad. He told me . he-had known you ever since toddling days. What a handsome fellow lie is. j and'l suppose you know lie is the lion , ! of Ihe hour?” .. I “ No,” said Joan briefly, I did not j ! know.” ~ , . I Aline seated herself on the bed. , She was so friendly and talkative that! .Joan felt hateful for feeling that there i was something antagonistic, between I |,hem. Yet —there it was, a mere trick I ! .of speech, a fleeting expression, words j which might have been ignored or read I a different way, all such trifles seemed i to make a whole telling Joan that Aline Sandall was in some way antagonistic. Was is because she herself had wanted lo marry Anthony? “ Oh, yes,” said Aline, “ every one is talking of his genius. He has been ‘discovered,’ though whether he did the discovering himself, or whether some genius-hunter has found him out we don't quile know. But there it is. ; He is painting a picture l'or lbe Aca- | demy which will be Hie talk of the: season, but lie won’t tell the subject j or the name, lie is delightfully mys- , lerious and mysteriously delighted, j All the girls are in love with him and j he talks to the girls as if he were in ; love with them all, and yet—well! the ; general opinion is lliat he is not heart : whole. Some say lie has been disap- i pointed, but the majority agree that no sane girl could disappoint him. He’s mot lloppy either, like some geniuses. ] He's a man and a sport. I'll give him your message, Joan, but warn you that ail the women at the Chase will owe you a grudge for taking their lion away, even for an hour.” Joan listened and was-thankful the candle light left heavy shadows. She did not- know whether her face he- , _ | trayed her, she hardly eared in theJ » ! moment of suffering. How well sh I ] could picture Michael as the centre of i j attraction. It had been just the same j !at home, llis gay fun, his mimicry, ] his keen humour and sense of drama j j had made of him a very Prince of j 1 revelry in Bohemia. ! Joan could almost hear his laughter, i i the twanging of the old banjo as he ] ] hurst into .some quaint nigger melody. : | And lie would bo coining to see her ' to-morrow afternoon. She would have lo tell him she was marrying Anuiony , n the spring. Mine’s kiss was cold, the pressure | ■l‘ her. hand limp as she said good- ■ ight. i “You don’t take a photo oi' Tony j ..bout with you,” was her parting shot. “ Most engaged girls do, but 1 should : not think you a very sentimental pair. ; Tony Lesterless is so solid, so success- ! l'ul, so delightful—but I can’t picture him whispering .to his beloved by j •moonlight.” ! Joan was sure there was a note of mockery, and stood on the defensive. ] “ Anthony is not a mail lo wear his j heart on his sleeve,” she replied, “there is a side to each of us which is hidden from casual observers.” Aline flushed. “ Not a doubt of it,” she retorted tartly. “ Even you, little Joan, have ! your secrel orchard, no doubt. I wonder if’Tony has peeped inside?” • She went off, laughing, and Joan as 1 she locked ' her door felt she would have liked fo go over lo this elder girl—and shaken her. CHAPTER XIV. Lesterlees did not come over next day. He hail to return to London to see about Mr. Ilardale’s affairs, but lie sent Joan a note and a basket of hothouse grapes. “ Delicious,” said Aline, ias slio fasted the latter, “really if must lie very nice Lo have a millionaire fiance. I have been admiring your ring all breakfast time, Joan. What are you going lo do? Would you like lo come for a walk, or remain indoors?” “1 am very tired,” said Joan. “I would rather be quiet. Later I will write some letters.” But the letiers did not get written, lor Joan went to sleep. She awoke slowly—lying inert, wondering where she was, gradually recalling past events, whilst lliat dull pain grew round her heart. A breath oY icecold air blew round tier feet, and as she moved to draw up a rug which \ Erica had flung over her, she heard i whispering at the further end of the roam, where a large bay formed an alcove. “ You must go away,” she heard Erica say in low tones of anguish. “I will not give you another penny.- You are trying to deceive me all die tinui-
SERIAL STORY
By May Wynne. |
(All rights reserved.) |
Co away, If you come again I shall 101 l the, police. Hush—there is someone asleep in the room behind me. It is Miss Hardale. She wilt tell my brother if siie heat’s.” “ I shall have to call on Tony myself.” came the low-spoken reply in Boris Elen ton's voice, “In fact, I’ve been thinking of that for some time, lie can afford to pay out. If he planked a couple of thou’ for a wedding gift, Erica, we might make a start in some other land of life and glory.” “Go away!” moaned Mrs. Baydcll, “I hate you, 1 despise you. If you come again I shall keep my threat.” Joan could not hear the response, hut the window was closed and she heard Erica tip-toeing towards the door.
Xo wonder the poor woman had aged, but, oh! what an idiot she was not to tell Anthony. Joan was half inclined io persuade her, but had not the courage to speak. It was nearly one o’clock —and the afternoon was .drawing near. The afternoon and Michael. “ 1 saw one of the Martins and he promised to give Mr. Grefton your message,” said Aline casually at lunch, and Joan wondered what sort of a message would he ultimately delivered.
Site felt altogether unlike the gay little Bohemian who had been Daddy’s comrade through careless days as she sat- waiting for her visitor.
Erica had complained of headaches and bad shut herself up in her room for the afternoon, -and Aline had gone early to her tobogganing. The latter had not referred to her own departure from the Grange, or of her new job as companion to -Mrs. Carraford. Joan hoped the latter bad not fallen through. She would be glad when Aline had gone. The clock had struck three before the front door bell pealed and Ann announced the visitor. •loan stood on ihe hearth, her chin up, the fighting light in her eyes. She looked very slender and fragile in her black dress, Ihe afternoon sunshine touching Hie ruddy masses of her hair. There was pain rather than welcome in Ihe blue eyes which looked straight and full at the man who came in. It was a moment- too tense to be called that -of mere greeting; in fact, Joan did not hold out her hand at alh Mi abaci halted for just one halfmoment, then as the door closed, he came forward at quick a stride. “Joan,” he cried, “-it is not true. I refuse to believe you are engaged to anot her mail.” (To be continued.) THE IDEA’S THE THING. Just an idea ! There’s money In simple, useful an] practical ideas. Let 'us hear about it so that you can protect • it. Consult us confidentially. Henry Hughes, Limited (Directors W. E. Hughes and J. T, Hunter), Registered Patent Attorneys, 214-217, D.I.G. Building, Wellington. Local Agents, 209 Dilworth Buildings, Auckland,
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Bibliographic details
Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17984, 1 April 1930, Page 4
Word Count
1,6951 JOAN of the GREAT HEART Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17984, 1 April 1930, Page 4
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