Serial Story JUDY SAYS “ NO.”

Waikato Times, Volume 109, Issue 18344, 2 June 1931, Page 4

Serial Story JUDY SAYS “ NO.”

(CHAPTER XI, Continued.) , THE . ASTOUNDING TRUTH. “I have been looking for you everywhere, Judy,” said Clive’s suave voice “It Is our dance. What do you mean by dodging me. like this?” “I wasn’t dodging you,", said Judy tremulously. She had no strength to resist. Although she felt as though she could not dance, yet she had to dance. And presently the hand stopped. “Let’s go and see the decorations. They are topping," said Clive. He took his mask off when they got outside, . . “Those things make one too hot, he grumbled. “Foolish idea., I think." “I'fillo, Harmer,” said a jovial voice. “I haven’t seen /ou for weeks. When are you going to take your revenge, winning some of that fifteen hundred back again?" Judy saw Clive Crawford’s faoe, deathly pale, saw his eyes,,', furtive, afraid, as the man strolled up from behind. And instantly she knew . . This, was Mr Ventris . . . The whole appalling truth was out . . . It was Clive Crawford who had pretended to be Nicholas! It was Clive who had blackened 'Nicholas’s name in the hope of becoming Henry Harmer’s heir! Judy realised the truth in a flash. It was a solution that had never presented itself to her. Oh, she had known someone must "have impersonated Nicholas’s name, but it had never entered her head to connect Clive with it, but that was the appalling, the horrifying truth 1 Clive whom she had trusted! Clive, with whom she had made the compact to clear Nicholas! What treachery! He had taken Nicholas’s name, trusting to luck that it would never be discovered. That, girl .Marion! Judy saw it all now. It was Clive whom she loved! Clive who had promised to marry her when he was . made heir! Oh, the treachery, the lies. She turned away, such a feeling of-nausea flooding her that she almost, fainted. Clive looking furtively round, saw that she had moved away, and he 'began to breathe more normally. What an escape! He stayed chat- • ting for a few minutes to Ventris, then slipped away into the crowd. He would make himself soarce until Ventris had gone. It was tiie nearest shave of his life. How on earth had ■ Ventris got an invitation? He lived so many miles away, and Clive knew quite well that Lord Kem way did not know him. What a stroke .'of ill-luck. -He would leave word that Judy was to go back to Harmer House with Enid. He felt too thoroughly shaken to go on with the moo'kery of the dance; besides, it wasn’t safe. He found Enid and told her that he was feeling seedy and was about to clear off. "Give an eye to Judy," he requested. • ‘-‘l’ll tell her you have gone,” said Enid, a trifle ungraciously. ... She was none too pleased with Clive, and her own engagement to Roger Bourne was already galling her. To be made love to constantly when one did not care in the least was.an experience. that one had to endure before one knew how it grated. She wished Rober had cared for her less. Altogether the night was falling considerably flat as far as she was concerned. . . . And Roger had appeared again. . . . Now if it had only been Nicholas that was coming towards her, instead of Roger! He wasn’t a good dancer, though he believed he was, and their steps did not suit particularly well, whereas Nicholas and she had danced as one mind. One might get some things when one marired for money, but there were other things one lost irrevocably. And she was beginning to wonder if the things one lost balanced the things one gained. “I have to. find Judy to give her a message," she said-hastily as Roger swaggered up to her. “I have not had a dance with Judy yet. .She looks stunning to-night." "Yes, she does, look quite attractive. .Her grandmother has' not spared money on her. Money can cover a multitude ; of sins." ■ i “In Judy’s case she has no sins to cover, for she is so remarkably pretty, my dear. I shan't mind having her for a cousin." “Judy and I are not related,” said Enid coldly. .She must certainly see that Roger stopped talking in that fulsome way about Judy. They went out into the grounds, and presently came across Judy sitting by the fountain.. In the many-hued fairy lights the water looked like jewels spraying out. “You are a queer girl, Judy," said Enid. “Why don’t you dance?" “I am quite happy here, thank you, ’ said Judy in a stifled voice. "Well, Clive is feeling seedy. You’ll have to come back with me." “Don’t worry about me," said Judy. “I’ll get someone else to take me back—Lord Ivenway.” "Oh, he’ll be eager enough to,” said Enid sulkily. “Come on, Roger.” “Don’t forget, I have not had my dance yet,” said Roger boisterously. "I won’t forget,” said Judy. They left her then, and presently tears came in a hot ilood. She felt shamed, bitterly, cruelly humiliated. Clive had made love to her, and she had- believed that it was genuine. What if she had returned it; what if she-had given him her maiden heart What a dreadful situation it would be for her to discover now that all the ‘ time it was for love of gold and not love that had even touched Clive Crawford’s false heart! Once lie had warned her, the hypocrite, warned her against those men who might be fortune-hunters, and ho himself one of that ignoble crowd 1 In that moment Judy forgot that she iiad been successful in her search. She forgot that siie had accomplished her desire. All she could think of was Clive Crawford’s love-making—the dead set he had made at her after that first day or two. And she had believed in him,l And now she know the hateful truth, that he, and lie alone, had done this abominable , thing I Why, he lvad never meant to help her to clear Nicholas's name, because ho had known well enough that if ever she did that he would be found out. She fumbled in her little bag and look out a wholly inadequate handkerchief and mopped her streaming eyes. And then someone spoke. A Ilarlequin wandering in the grounds had como upon a poor weeping Mary Queen of Scots. "Why, Judy," he said, “what on earth has happened?” She lifted her tear-stained face to hig, Sitting there on the edge of thq

(By WINIFRED CARTER.)

Author of ‘‘■Lass O' Laughter.”

fountain she made an irresistible picture. Unconsciously she stirred him. The Mary Stuart cap, edged with pearls, set off her exquisite beauty superbly. The huge wired collar nt lace and jewels; the gorgeous, sumptuous frock, with its billowing, swaying lines, suited her. It was as though suddenly little Judy from the country had grown up. He had never realised before that she was a woman. But in that moment it seemed to Nick as though scales fell from his eyes, and an indescribable tenderness flooded him. Judy, who had come, hated by everyone here, to win all hearts. “Tell me who has hurt you, Judy,” he said sternly. “I’ll delight in giving the bounder a horse-whipping.” ' j Nick’s voice sent strange tremours down Judy. It stirred faint harmonies in her breast. She trembled a little, clasping her hands one over the other. He sat beside her and drew out his own big handkerchief. ; “The Harlequin’s task to wipe away ; your .tears, fair mistress,” . he said j half whimsically, but there was ten- j derness, too, in his voice. “Tell me who is the guilty party to-day, Judy.” “I can’t tell you, not yet,” she said sobbingly. "Has some blackguard been breaking your heart? I’ll make him sorry. ! Is that what is wrong, Judy?" j How low, how sympathetic, was his voice 1 1 “In a way, and yet not in a way you think. Oh, Nick, I am so unhappy." He put his arm, round her, and she leaned her red-gold head against the gaily-coloured dice pattern of his Harlequin suit. He could feel her qivering, and it hurt him, too. “I’d like to help ou, Judy. You have helped me many.a time. Right from the start you have bucked me up. I found there were blue skies beyond the grey. Odd how you could make me laugh. Do you remember? I can’t bear, to see you miserable, Judy. Can’t you tell me all about it?” , “Not yet,” she said; but somehow the tears were dried. Dear, dear Nick! And she could clear him now, and. she would. .., "I have generally to comfort you, Judy,” he said softly. “My lot in life I" “You manage it pretty well.” There was just the faintest hint of laughter in her voice. “Tell me, Nick, do I look as though I have been crying? I can’t go back in there; I don’t want to, anyway. I wish I didn’t have to. I thought this w r as going to be such a wonderful night, but instead everything has gone wrong. I want to go- back home." ■ • “Well, you shall, Then,” said Nick determinedly. • “I say, I’ll see you home. That is, if you won’t disdain the old motor-bike. The side-car’s on,’.’ “I’d love it,!’ said Judy, ;dimplinig. : ii “Ever since I saw you that day with the. ducks I have wanted to have a rjde in.it.- It looks, much more exciting tliap.a car. Real fun, Nick, though not so thrilling.as pillion." . “Well, perhaps it is fun," admitted Nick, “It’s more uncertain, certanly. Come along, I have not bothered to garage it; it’s In the shed in the flel.i next to this." So they crept out together. She whispered a message to the servant at the door, leaving him to explain to Lorlc Kensvay that she had gone home. “My head aches," she told him—and it was true, and her heart did, too. And yet there was a thrill in going with Nicholas. • He had got his motor bicycle out in front of the big gates. With an exaggerated gesture of courtesy he. bowed before her. ■ • “Mary . Queen of Scots’ chariot isn’t quite what it ough to be, but it can beat some of your cars for speed." .She got in, helped by his eager hands. He pulled the rug up over her quilted skirt and tucked it under her round little chin, ills Ungers touched i her cheek, and again that nameless thrill coursed through her. Under the starlit sky he moved off The old engine thumped away. An odd peace fell on her heart. After all, she had done what she had set oui to do. She had got sufficient facts to clear him. But she could not give him back his faith in Enid. No, that was beyond her. Still, he would probably forgive Enid, for when his grandfather made him heir again then Enid would oome back. She loves him, mused Judy, not enough, but still perhaps as deeply as she can love. And- Nick will forgive her. And then she began to cry again, so that he gave a puzzled look at her and drew up. “Judy, I insist on knowing what is wrong. Remember, I am your cousin. It’s only fair to tell me. Who knows but what I might be able to help you?" But she was adamant; not a word could he get from her. And in the end, exasperated and rather wmrried, too, he ran her up to the front door of Harmer House.

As the helped her out something appealing about her touched him to a new sensation. Looking down at the quivering lips and wisty eyes some strange impulse animated him. Before he realised what he was about to do he had put his arms round her, and very gently he kissed her on the lips. “Good night, little cousin," he said softly, and was gone. CHAPTER XII. Judy Knows. Judy stood there, under tho starlit heavens. From the distance. Hie . sound of the band came, faintly, llirobbingly sweet. She heard the sound of Nick’s engine plodding away down the avenue. A linger seemed laid on her heart, something wildly sweet i stormed through her. It was as | though she could not breathe nor move. Then suddenly her hand went up to her eyes, as though to shut out some blinding, bewildering vision. She knew what had happened to her now. She knew why from (lie very first she had felt those strange, inexplicable feelings about Nicholas. She knew why site tiad been so sure that lie was innocent, and why she had laboured so hard to find out the truth. That kiss that he had given so lightly, which lie had given because J he was sorry for her secret woe, had (old her the truth. Pile loved Nicholas. . . . lie- who loved Enid, whoso love was given so irrevocably to Enid, was the only man she could e.er care for! With a feeling of desolation at her heart she turned. Almost-before she could touch the hell tho door opened j and Mrs Crawford stood there. Clive j had returned, and had told her that I Judy had decided against him. I (To be uonllnued.) „