The Girls at The Gables

Waikato Times, Volume 108, Issue 18164, 31 October 1930, Page 4

The Girls at The Gables

| BY HERBERT GALWAY and ANN NEVERN. 1 H (All Rights Reserved.) |

I Serial Story 4 I

CHAPTER XXVIII. “That’s the old skinflint, .Marlin Dreever,” volunteered one of the spectators. “Yes. that’s old (Martin.” went on the man as he waved his hand contemptuously. “Old Martin gone down to hell at last.l” “No; I ain’t, seen Mr Bantry yet, miss.” murmured Mrs .Tarrow, “but 1 expect he’s gorn as well . . • Nobody could live up them stairs where he ran Poor gentleman! Was they mad, do you think.'Miss Phil, when we was there a-cooldn’ and a-doin loi “Yes, I’m afraid so; at least, I have thought so lately.” “Mercy on usl An’ we so innocentlike, not kn owin’ as we \yus livin’ with two madmen —gentlemen, I’m sure I should say, miss.” “You are quite right, Jarrow. We shall always remember them, shan t we, as the mad gentlemen—gentlemen alwnvs, Jarrow, dear.” “They were indeed. Miss Phil! But gentlemen or no gentlemen I’m.thankful this day is over!” - „ Sick at heart, Phil turned away.from the burning house. She felt in a way sorry to leave the hid place, hut with Bantry and Reuben both gone, there was nothing ther to nnpeal tn her. The fire was now her friend as it burned every trace of misery and tragedy with which The Gables had lor been associated. As she restarted the car, she looked at the dav breaking over the distant hills. “They day is .iust beginning, Jarrow,”' she said with a ouict happiness, yet in a rather sad voice. “See the dawn is here! I’ve never seen it before! Isn’t it beautiful —so soft, and calm!” , ■Mrs .Tarrow did not reply but Ffmiled tenderly as she allowed her motherly gage to wander slowly from the, beautiful face of her companion to the not more beautiful flush of the awakening day, and finally brought her eyes to rest on the form of the young man ha’f-roehning by her side! “I say, Miss Phil,” she said in a stage-whisper as she leaned forward to the girl’s shoulder, “Mr Preston is beginning to blink.” “Phil darling!” he* murmured softly settling himself more comfortably on the housekeeper’s ample bosom, “how soft and restful you are! You are like the. Songs of Solomon complete, darling—you love of' my life 1”

“Mercy on us, sir!” cried Mrs Jarrow in alarm as she sat bolt upright. “You bain’t talkin’ to Miss Phil! An’ at my time o’ life, too!” Phil glanced over her shoulder and smiled happily. It was such a relief to hear that comfortable voice and to note the pretended fright with which she spoke. The tragedy enacted a mile or so back had threatened to overwhelm them, but the sound of those two voices had made her feel that she was back in the sane world again. Dear old Jarrow! Dear, darling Jack! How she loved them both! Life was just that, she mused as she accelerated on the clear road and in the strengthening light of the day, just that—sadness and joy, tears and laughter—and the misery of it . all made us so grateful for the sprinkling of happiness. -Jack Preston was not yet fully awake. He was only conscious that his head pillowed on a woman’s breast, that the nightmare was over, and that the sweet air from those open downlands was blowing fresh ' and cool on his face. Smoke and flame, madness and misery could not live in that pure breeze. 5 He breathed a sigh of deep contentment and snuggled closer . . • , “No, no! Save me!” gasped Mrs Jarrow. flustered and embarrassed. “Stop the car. Miss Phil, please! This love-lorn Had is tryin’ to kiss me!” Phil drew up at the endge of the wood where She and Jack had walked on that fateful night and as they came to a standstill the young man awoke to the realisation of the fact that he had been reposing on the generous bosom of the old housekeeper. “Mrs Jarrow,” he -laughed, as be placed his hands on both her shoulders, “I’ve had,such a lovely rest! God bless you for a ministering angel!” As he kissed her homely cheek tears welled in her eyes. She felt she loved the boy like her.own son. “I wish you would move this bandage,” said Jack at length. “I feel pretty enough with this grime on my face without the added decoration on my head.” “Are you quite sure it will be safe?” asked Phil. “Oh, quite, darling,” he replied. “I only put it on as a sort of additional protection when I was coming through the fire.” 1 Phil shuddered involuntarily as she thought of all they had just passed through. The old housekeeper thought of many things as she unfastened the dirtv wrapping from Jack Preston's head. She had an idea that the young couple would not forget her in their happiness, and she was glad, for she was tired of being tossed about like a cork on the sea of life. Preston rose stiffly from the seat when the bandage had been removed. “That’s much better!” he said gratefully. “You see the wound is quite healed and I feel much better already. Knowing that you are here — and that the awful night has gone, and that it’s morning, and that —oh, I don’t know,” he concluded. “Is it permissible to sit by the driver, I wonder?” hej smiled. '“lt is, if you wish,” murmured Phil. When his long legs had climbed into the front seat beside the happy girl, Mrs .Tarrow had a brain-wave. “I’ll go and gather some mushrooms,” she 'said. “They are all the better for picking, before the sun rises.” t Neither spoke for some time after, the older woman had gone. There was so much to say that neither of them knew how to begin. Words seemed banal and useless. Jack placed an arm round her and drew her gently towards him. “Darling!” he whispered. “My precious girl!” “.Tack! My love! My man!” she murmured as their lips met in a passionate caress. “My dear, dear man-!’ ’ Jack’s head swam in a swirl of happiness as he took the beautiful girl—his girl of the radiant morning—in his strong young arms, and their love swept them off their feet as she returned his caresses. It was nearly l twenty minutes later when 'Mrs Jarrow reappeared with a heap of fresh mushrooms reposing on a large tray she had •improvised from bracken leaves. She was rather bothered about the length of time she had

boon away, bill, Ibo lovers did not notice it. In fad, Phil cnm.Trga lulu ted lior on I lie speed with which she had gathered so many. The sentimental old matron nan soon them Hilling obllvloua to ove-v----tbing else ns atm was reutmlng to the car and her heart, heal. In svrnpathv with thorn. Whether or not It is true that “all the world loves a lover, there was no doubt that. Mrs Jarrow loved Philomel Sutton and Jack Preston In their happlncsH. Tears came •Into her eyes—as they very often did in moments of emotion — and she Indulged in the pleasure of a real good The shrill crow of an energetic chanticleer in a neighbouring farmyard brought the lovers hack to earth, and with a warning laugh to Mrs Jarrow, Phil set the engine in motion once more, and they sped up the road.

CHAPTER XXIX. The drive to The Graylands was continued without further' interruption and at top speed. The house was wrapped in slumber when the car purred up the inn'T drive. Jack sprang lightly out and played a vigorous tattoo on the old oaken door. "When it became known that he had most, miraculously appeared, the house became a buzzing hive. Sir,Richard Preston actually ran down the stairs in his haste to greet his son, narrowly escaping a tumble in the process. He clasped Jack to his breast with a fervour of which his son had never Imagined him capable. “My boy. my boy!” he cried, “where haveb’ou been. And —bless me —Phil! You iook tired, my dear —tired and worn.. What has happened to you in that old house! Y'ou ought never to have lived in it.” “I am not sorry. Sir Richard.” said Phil as he embraced her in turn. “I loved those m pn —mad though 'my were! Why should such dear men be suffered to go mad?” she asked 'as a wave of sadness swept momentarilv across her mind. “Ah, my child, you have asked' me a aties)ion that I—like everybody else —am unable to answer. We can only accept it as one of the inscrutable wavs to Providence.” “But, come now,” he went on, “my sister is waiting for you, Phil. and perhaps Mrs Jarrow will go with you. You see, rest and refreshment are necessary if you are. to take no harm from (be night’s adventures.” Sir Richard told Jack he had seer the glare of the sky during the night but had no idea that The Gables was on fine. “In fact, I was not miite sure that, it was a house on fire,” he added, “'fhev have been burning gorse on the heath, and T thought it was nothing more than that.”

After a good sleep they met again at late breakfast, which they took in the sunny room looking out on to the orchard. Then the young people felt gnite ready to relate their experiences to the baronet and his sister. Mrs Jarrow .who was having “the time of her life,” as she said, was readily absorbed in the staff at Graylands and given a light post as stillroom maid. She had hopes, however, of one day being head of the nursery. When the postman called the next morning he had a letter for Phil. It was addressed to The Gabies, but as the residence was now simply a heap of ruins, he had been told by a policeman on duty there that Miss Sutton was staying at Graylands. * The " espistle was from Aunt Amelia. It was writetn from Morven Towers, the home of Lady Trefusis. and was as follows:

“Dear Philomel, —T am staying here for a week or so with Lady Trefusis. The third nursery governess 'has left, and Lady Trefusis thinks it would he the very place for you. She wants a lady-like well-connected voung woman to teach her girls”—■'Phil glanced at jack and smiled—“l think. Philomel, you had better seriously consider your position again. This is a chance that can reasonably come only once in every girl’s life” —(“Thank heaven for that.” murmured Phil) —“I shall he waiting to hear from you that you have decided!to accept. If you insist on staying as a chauffeur to those men I shall have to wash my hands of the whole business. I can’t imagine what interest you can find in a dull place like that, where nothing ever happens.” ' The letter ended abruptly, and Phil handed it. to Jack, who grinned mischievously as he read it.

“Tell her you have left the first two old men and taken up with two others, one of whom you are going to marry.” “I’m afraid the shock would be fatal." laughed Phil.

Aunt Amelia had, nevertheless, the. surprise of her life a few weeks later when she had a letter from her niece. It was addressed from a fashionable hotel on the Riviera.

“Dear Auntie," it began, ‘T am sorry I have unable to reply to your letter before this. I cannot accept Lady Trefusis’ kind offer as I am now married to Mr Jack Preston, of Grayiands. He is the son of Sir Richard Preston, you know. Lady Trefusis knows Sir Richard, I believe, so she will tell you all about the family. I daresay you have heard by now what befell my late employers at Marshfield. “I am very happy and contented. Roth .Tack and I send our love and hope to see you at Grayiands when we return. Every your affectionate niece, Phil.” ■ , „ “Both Jack and I send our love” — the words stuck in Aunt Amelia’s throat. But there 1 Magnanimous, loving, forgiving, if headstrong, Philomel had always been I And now the girl was so happy that she had distributed love broadcast, ln_ her heart there was no room for unkindness or sad memories—it overflowed with the life-giving stream of love and Aunt Amelia, loveless and hard, had been engulfed by that stream! Surreptitiously she wiped a tear from her eyes. “I am satisfied,” she murmured at last; “It, is .just as well to let the young people find their own pathway.” On the shore of the blue Mediterranean Jack Preston and Phil, his wife, wandered hand in hand, feeling in their hearts that evrything that had happened had been worth while—that their love was the more beautiful for all they had suffered. Phil knew that.the experience she had gained during her residence at The Gables as chauffeur to Reuben Dreever and James Ban try would give her a toleration necessary to appreciate all the ups an' 1 <’owns of life. Phil felt that she was indeed fortunate, for she had been loved by many. In her own way, Aunt Amelia

> must have loved her, or she would not have fussed so much about her future. Then she knew she had had the sincere paternal love of James Bantry and Reuben Dreever—when they were normal —-arid she knew also ttiat Mi s Jarrow, dear, comfortable,, ample, cumbersome Mrs Jarrow, loved her so much that where she went Jarrow would insist on following. And—dearest and best of all—there was her young husband’s love.. She turned to him now her eyes alight with love and pride. "Jack darling,” she said, “when did you first—first think you loved me?” Jack looked at her solemnly. “1 never thought I loved you! I was always sure of-it I” “Well, when was it?" “I found I loved you, sweetheart, when you turned up your pretty nose and told me to mind the step.” “Oh, Jack!" she murmured prnfestIngly. “I was afraid you might say something like that. Is that really true?” “No, darling, it is not. I loved you the very first time I saw you, and that was how I lost my head arid allowed you and Dreever to run me into that heap of stones. I would never have claimed damages for the car were it not that I wanted an excuse for seeing again a sweet, mutinous face with sparkling eyes.” He drew her into his arms. “And now you are mine, darling, to love and to cherish for ever," he whispered. “All yours, Jack dear, for ever and ever,” she replied. (The End.) r ~’ l .