Serial Story JUDY SAYS “ NO.”

Waikato Times, Volume 109, Issue 18349, 8 June 1931, Page 4

Serial Story JUDY SAYS “ NO.”

“Oh, sir!" said Clive Crawford. “I had no idea that you would 'he so merciful. Before heaven 1 will make good, I will justify your leniency!’’ He turned swiftly and went out o the room, leaving Henry Harmer shaken to tly core. Some time later Mrs Crawford came into the room, a .broken woman. She had wept hitter tears during the past two hours, and the pride and arrogance that she had always expressed had gone. "I want to thank you, Henry,” she said, tremulously. “Clive has told me everything; what I owe to Judy, what I owe to you. Oh, Henry, to think that Clive, the hoy I was so proud of, should have fallen so low!" “Well, we have forgiven him, Eliza,” said old Harmer, more touched than he would have liked to admit. “He’s turning over a new leaf; you’ll be with him. Don’t rub the past in, but give, him encouragement and help. It's not all the boy’s fault, you know, Eliza.” "You mean that I spoiled him?” she said, tremulously. “Yes, gave him his head, made him think that he was different from the rest of mankind. I blame you as much as I blame the boy.” She. wept again, and watching her Henry Harmer realised that these tears were good for her. Both her children had been brought up on wrong lines. . Enid tq, be selfish and vain, pleasure-loving and self-centred; Clive to consider himself as the salt of the earth, without giving any signs of worthiness. “You’ll go with him to the farm I’m going to give him. Y'ou’ll help him to win through!” “Yes, Henry,” said Mrs Crawford“l'm going to do what I ought to have done years ago. 'Be father and mother too." She w'iped her eyes and stood up erect. The smart society woman had gone, she 'was just a poor, broken, wretched woman, who knew that she 'had been standing on the edge of a precipice, which, but for the mercy of God, she must have been flung over. “Clive told me that Judy has gone home, is that so?" asked Eliza Crawf ordU tretnuously... p • "I know nothing about that,” said Henry Harmer. “I think, perhaps, that July was unhappy here,” said Mrs Crawford. "Perhaps when she knows that Clivo and I have left she will come back!" In the woods Enid and Nick faced each other. Somewhere a bird fluted, and the whisper of wind in the trees could be heard. "You know?" said Enid eagerly. “You realise that you’re clear?" “Yes, grandfather told me so," said Nioholas, gravely. He was watching her. The flawless face, the exquisite, clear-cut profile, the delicate, restless fingers. "Is that all .you’ve got to say Niek?" said Enid, half frantic with excitement. “What did you expect me to say?” he said curiously.;.... • '*•’• “But don’t you see, there’s no bar- ’ rier any longer, - Nick; you and I, we can love each other again." To her astonishment he gave a laugh, half mocking, half 'bitter. "To late!” he said. “But it’s not too late," said Enid •desperately. “It can’t be too late! All the time you’ve known I’ve only cared for you!" “And where does Roger Bourne come in?” he said. “He’s less than nothing to me!” said Enid, fiercely. “You know that well enough 1" “Last night at Kenway’s dance I was there, a poor Harlequin, thrust out into the cold. Kenway and Judy had the idea. Judy thought I’d have a chance to dance With you; she believed that you cared enough in the final analysis to' choose love instead of wealth. Well, she was wrong. I heard you and Roger Bourne; I saw you kiss him! The last illusion went then, Enid. You’ve come too late, my dear.” “You mean that you don’t care?" said Enid. “Exactly that!” said Niclc, gravely. “I don’t believe it,” said Enid. “A man who cared as you cared couldn’t possibly forget. It’s there still, only you're too proud to admit it. Why, should we go on being miserable when the way is clear?" “It’s not clear, because if I took your love now, what would the future be like? I’d never see your fair, smiling face but that I wouldn’t see tho soul lurking behind- There were some times when I have sat out there and thought of you, Enid, and longed for you with a terrible longing, yet you, you cared so little that you dropped me then! I was a poor man. Shame at my dismissal from grandfather’s house didn't cut you as the thought of poverty did. I worked with my hands until body and mind were weary, but you slept on feather pillows and fine linen! You could allow Roger Bourne to make love to you, become engaged . . . The scales have gone from my eyes for ever. Between you and me, Enid, there can never be anything that would stand the shocks and thunderbolts that come when two people get married. I’ve learned that!” And suddenly he thought of Judy and her quaint, sage remarks about matrimony.

‘‘One must have perfect trust and confidence, aye, and one must have faith. You’re been faithless, so we’ve both lost love!” “Will nothing change you, Nick?” said Enid, stepping back a little, and a look of unutterable yearning came into 'the selilsh blue eyes. “I could never care for you again, Enid, for 'between you and the old Enid there is a great gulf. You were never what I thought you were. You were always out for self. I didn't know, and so I suffered cruelly, but I'm healed, Last night was the final straw 1 After that do you think any man who had the slightest respect for himself would agree to your offer? Take that -sort of second place? Love wouldn't stand it, Enid!" “So this is good-bye,” she said tremulously. “You’ll be coming back to Manner Mouse?" "firandfallier wishes it," said Nick, quietly. "Then I shall leave. I couldn’t bear seeing you, Nick, knowing what I’d done 1" Stic left Idm Mien, and he turned and went back to his own cottage. Oddly enough, lie was glad to he free, for with the determination that, she could ho nothing more to him had come a great sense of clean winds blowing through him, sweeping away

{By WINIFRED CARTER.)

Author of “Lass O’ Laughter.”

the cobwebs, sweeping away the misery, leaving him whole again, Presently Enid presented herself to Henry Harmer. “I'm leaving here,” she said. “I thought you’d like to know_ that I’m staying with a relative of 'Roger’s, until we can get a 'special-licence, and then we’re going to be married, and go on the Continent for our honeymoon.” “So Nick—.” He hesitated, sorry for her disappointment. “Nick wouldn’t I” ■ That night saw the last of the. Crawfords. When Nick came, he saw his grandfather sitting alone in the big library. He looked very frail, and shaken. “I’m glad that you’ve como back, Nicholas,” he. said, childishly,. “They’ve all left me but you! Even Judy has gone I” JUDY AT HOME. It wasn’t quite 'the same being at the Vicarage- It was lovely to be seeing them, all again. Daddy, who kissed her so tenderly, and looked with such searching, kindly eyes to see if his little Judy had brought any heartache back. She stiffened herself to bear that glance, and to smile, back courageously, so that he did. not guess. Patricia, who had grown prettier than ever, and all the rest of them were there, such dears, and yet unable to give her back the old peace of mind. Then Gilbert came, and even Gilbert had changed; she- saw that, after her refusal, he had turned to Patricia, that it was Patricia he cared for now. She was glad of that, for there was no love in her heart for Gilbert, at least not the sort of love so decent a young fellow deserved: That night, when all the household were sleeping, Patricia came and sat on Judy’s bed. “What have they done to you, Judy, my dear?" she said, and there was a sob in her voice. “They’ve done nothing, Patricia," said Judy, smiling. But she was not able to keep the truth from her elder sister’s troubled eyes. “You oan’t hide your heartache from me, Judy. Is it because you’ve come back discovering that you love Gilbert?::-: Do-tyou; think he wants me-? because he doesn’t, not really. If you gave him one look of encouragement he’d be back at your side.” -

“Oh, my dear," said Judy lovingly, leaning against her, “If you could only know what heartfelt gratitude I had when I realised -that he had turned to you, you would rejoice too. Patricia, I never cared for Gilbert. At least, not In that way; a's a brother, yes. It has comforted me so much seeing that you two will be happy to-gether.” me everything, Judy?” said Patricia, gently. At first Judy 'kept silent, and then the very floodgates of her soul were open, and she told her sister everything, not quite everything, all the same, for the fact that she cared for Nick was hidden deep in her own heart. And. when, she came,to. a stop Patricia put her arms round the sobbing little figure,.- and held,, her close. “You’ve been wonderful, Judy I” said Patricia, and there was almost awe in her voice. “So wonderful that it’s no wonder you feel pretty upset, but.now you are. home you’ll forget all about it. You did the right thing, dear, all the way through. Now you're going to forget I" But long after Patricia lay sleeping at her side, Judy was awake, staring into the darkness, seeing -Nick’s face, his laughing eyes. Seeing always, always Nick i But if she thought that she was going .to. be left alone at the Vicarage she was vastly mistaken. Peter came -stumbling headlong into the room on Saturday morning to tell excitedly that a big car was outside the gate, and a young man was inquiring of Aggie if this was B.layborough Vicarage. '

“He’s a regular young swell, Judy,’’ said Peter. “'Some of your grand friends at grandfather’s:”. .. “Could 'it be Clive?’" thought Judy, anxiously! Had her grandfather 'been harsh, or had'he done as she wished? But it wasn’t Clive. Patricia, dimpling and smiling, opened the door, and beside her stood Nick! JUDY SAYS—WHAT? “He’s just introduced himself as our cousin! Nicholas!” said Patricia, gaily. “He’s going to stay : to dinner, Judy, so I'm going to forage round, and kill the fatted calf, only it will be a chicken. Come on, Peter, I shall want all your help to catch a rooster. Did Patricia guess? Was that why, she left those two together? Anyway, there they were, standing looking at each other. The colour was drained momentarily from Judy’s face- “ Why, , Nicholas 1” she gasped. “Why Judy!" he imitated her, “Did you thunk. that you were going to be allowed to clear off like that, leaving two lonely, , restless, dissatisfied men all by themselves at Harmer House?” “What about the others?” asked Judy, anxiously. “Mrs Crawford, and Clive have gone down to help Clive turn over a new leaf at a farm grandfather’s giving them. Enid went off last night to stay with a relative of Roger Bourne’s: they’re going lo be married by special licence at tiic week-end.” “Oh, Nick; so it's come too late!” said Judy, and she burst into a very passion of weeping. And 'then his arm was round her shaking shoulders, and he was holding her. “My dear, my dcarl" he said. “Don’t cry! Why, Judy, there never was such a little water-cart ever, ot that l’an sure. It wasn’t too late for me. Don’t you see, Judy, -that I’ve learned my lesson! Do you think that I wanted a girl for wife Who was just beautiful outside, and as heartless and cold as Enid was underneath? Do you think that I’d have ever known any satisfaction in that?” She looked up at him through a mist of tears. “SheM have been different," said Judy, gently. “Yes, perhaps she would, but 1 would never have been able lo forget, men are like Hint. Oil, Judy, when I knew that I didn't care any longer, that the wound was healed, 1 wauled to fling up my cap and shout. The moment Enid had gone I arrived at grandfather’s, only to learn that you'd come back here. Well’. i thought I’d give you a day lo get over it, I know that yon were home-sick; and, my word, what a pair we were! Grandfather always listening for your step! As for me 1 learned that the world without Judy was utterly of no use lo me! I’ve come to bring you hack, Judy!” “To Harmer House?" said Judy. ”1

can’t come, Nick I” “Why not?” He had taken her hands from her face, and he was staring into -her eyes. “There’s ■ some reason why you won’t 'come. It’s nothing to do with Clive, is it?”

“No,” said Judy, with conviction. “I mean to know, Judy,” said Nicholas firmly. His piercing eyes were searching into her very soul. Then he spoke, very softly. “Did you never guess that I loved you right from the very start! You’ve been such a friend! Judy, you said ‘No’ to grandfather when he offered you an inheritance. But, oh Judy, don’t say ‘No’ to me.” ' ’ She stood very still; it was as though her heart was beating .so .loudly that she was sure that he could hear it. What could he mean? What did he mean?. r ., “Don’t say no,” he said pleadingly. "I don’ty understand;:: Nlck'l" she said. ' % ' "But you d0,.".,..5aid Nick softly. He tilted her chin. v “That night when I kissed you in cousinly fashion something whispered the truth to me. I knew it when all yesterday the place seemed like an ice house. ,I’ve wanted you; Judy . . . I love you! Judy, heart of mine, very, very dear love of 'mine, do you care for me?" ,

She did not answer . . . Indeed, she could not. It was so amazing, so unexpected. She saw his face change, age, become grim. . "So it is ‘No’?" he cried grimly. “Indeed, indeed, .St’s not!" 'isald Judy, with swift certainty. “It’s yes—always and always yes, Nick!” And then —well, you couldp’t hear the rest of what she said, for Nick’s lips were on hers- Had not Judy said “Yes.” I

And when they got back to Harmer House there was no need to say a word. Henry Harmer waiting impatiently in the garden for Nick to come back, hoping against hope that Judy would come back too, saw the car stop . . . saw Judy’s happy face, and got to his feet to come to her. And suddenly he saw Nick lift her in his arms. Judy’s lovely, radiant face was suffused with scarlet. Then old Harmer saw Nick kiss Judy . . . and a great peace seemed to fall on his heart. “Bless you, my childen!" he said, tremulously. They started apart, looking incredibly,'guilty, then Nick laughed boyishly. “Are you pleased, sir?" he said. For answer the old man opened his arms and Judy went to them like a homing bird—and over that dear auburn head the two men’s eyes met. Judy had come homel THE END.