THROUGH THE SILENT NIGHT.

Waikato Times, Volume 110, Issue 18406, 13 August 1931, Page 4

THROUGH THE SILENT NIGHT.

(By

WILLIAM GUIDOTT.)

Author of "What Delia Dared,” &0., &o. [Copyright.]

CHAPTER XXIII. And now It was “Roses, roses all the way I” The car slid along the front for ever from the gloomy Town Hall with its sinister memories. Doris sat In silence, one of her hands clasped in Cyril’s, while he leant forward and carried on a shouting conversation with Jim, purposely not looking at her, for the tears were raining down her face. Presenly a plalnive voice made him lean back. “I really can’t blow my nose if you don't let go my hand." Cyril laughed aloud for sheer joy, and Doris joined in. The crisis had passed. They were almosa at the end of the Hove Lawns now. Jim slowed up. “ I don’t know if you people are hungry," he called, “ but I am." He stopped the car. “ Shall we go and lunch somewhere?" “Yes. Where?" asked Cyril. “ What do you say.” They looked at Doris.

“Oh I don’t know—oh yes. I've an idea." “ What?"

“ The bungalow. Can’t we buy some things and picnic out there?” “ Great,” called Jim, as he started the car off towards the shops. “ We’ll go and get some food." He jumped out at the stores. “ Wait for me. I’ll buy the whole place," he said as he ran up the steps. Doris slid her hand undpr Cyril's.

“ I can’t believe it all, somehow." " You haven't got to. It’s all a nice big comfortable dream, and we'll never wake up.” "Never," she repeated happily.

The chauffeur came out laden with things, and began stowing them In the_car. “ Tell Mr Elverston that halt the place will be enough,” Cyril said laughing. “We aren’t going to stay there for a month."

“Im not so certain about that,' said Jim’s voice behind them.

“What do you mean?” Doris asked.

“ It’s a nice bungalow. Do you like it? I believe you have seen it, Miss Smith, haven’t you?" Jim answered politely. Doris laughed. “ I think it’s perfectly horrid of you to remind me, and I won’t go—” she began. But it’s your own bungalow." “ Mine?"

“Yes, wedding present," answered Jim shortly. Doris gasped. “ Oh—l can’t—"

“ Weil you can let it. I thought you said you liked it. That’s the worst of girls, they never seem to know their own minds."

“ Don’t say anything more, Doris. He’ll take it back," .'Cyril interrupted, “ and we want it, we're very broke, you know. Yes, we accept, thank you Jim. Of all the decent things—" “Oh shut up," said Jim as he slammed the door. “ I never knew two people make such a fuss about anything in my life." The car was stacked with things. Doris piled the roses on. them carefully, but they fell over in great masses In her. lap. She tried Jo sojt the. lovely blooms and succeeded in gathering together a great armful, which she hugged contentedly, their velvet petals resting against her flushed happy cheeks. The rest fell In profusion over everything. Cyril watched her contentedly as he lit a cigarette. She looked so radiant and lovely as she sat holding the quivering flowers close to her. The car flew along the road to Shoreham. Dori? sat thinking. How different the old straggling High Street looked from the last time, she had seen it when she had come down to search the bungalow for the, letter and nearly been caught by the police. How happiness changed everything. Instead of dreading the little town she loved it now, for had it not brought her Cyril and—life!

All of a sudden she remembered that neither of the two men knew of the money she was now in possession of. Mr Jephson had told her at the Town Hall while they were awaiting for the arrival of the policemen. By the way she must send him a present, a large one. Where would she have been but for his evidence? Hastilv she put the thought aside and resolutely refused to think about it. But Cyril—should she tell him she was the possessor 'of an income of nearly a thousand a year?

‘lf I wish I was rich." Cyril broke in on her thoughts, somewhat ungrammatically, but truthfully.

Doris almost started. She smiled. “ I’m glad you couldn’t read my thoughts," she answered enigmatically. “ I’m not bothering about money.”

“Nor am I, darling, not a bit, so long as you don’t mind. But you oughtn’t to marry a poor man, you know."

Do you mean you're letting me off,” asked Doris lightly. " I release you, sir. And supposing I told you that I d lost even the hundred a year I had?”

Have you? Well, I'll try to make it up to you that's all, somehow. I don't care, but it’s rotten for you all the same. Things will come out all right though for us."

' Yes, I know,” Doris answered, and meanwhile you’ve been paying all the expenses of lawyers and things. Oh I know all about It. How much of that small capital have you got left?”

“ Oh I don’t care—don’t let’s talk talk about money,” Cyril broke In. Jim turned round. "What are you two quarrelling about? I suppose you’re both hungry and peevish.” The car drew up at the bungalow. “ I was only asking tin’s young man if he’d marry me if we neither of us had any money,” Doris answered with mock humility.

1 would. I'd marry vou anvwhere, under any circumstances and a ?? r nie - Of course you know that. Cyril was almost Indignant. “ Arc you a witness to those assertions ?”

Jim nodded. “ It’s quite binding.” “ I’ve got about a thousand a year. ATr Jephson told me this morning; my father left it to me,” Doris said culmy. Cyril gasped. “ I-—” he began. I refuse to let you off. Those are witnesses.” Doris laughed a I ringing peal as she got out of the car. Do let’s have lunch soon. I’m so hungry;” They went into I lie bungalow. Jim had sent word a few days before, Unite by chance, to have the whole place, cleaned, and a lot of new furniture had conn* down from London which the agents had unpacked for him. and arranged Io the best of their ability. -r’i ie p | a( . e lookei. frosh and comfortable. Doris lliled with

water some <uaint earthenware jugs and arranged a mass of roses on the luncheon table. Jim busied himself unloading the car, and the chauffeur stacked the piles of things in the larder and on the kitchen floor. There were enough stores for some weeks, as Cyril had remarked. But Jim never did things by halves, and he meant to provision the bungalow well—that was only part of his present to Doris. She clasped her hands in excited amusement when she surveyed the rows of things on the shelves. "But, Jim, you oughtn't. I never saw such extravagance. Is this place really mine? Oh, it is good of you.”

“I wish you'd take Cyril out on the beach or somewhere while Jackson gets lunch ,and I attempt to put the place in order, instead of criticising." Doris laughed. “All right. It’s no good aruging with you. I see that. Come on Cyril, let’s walk round my property and inspect everything." But her face changed . once they were outside, and becamp serious. “Cyril," she said anxiously. “Do you realise that we’ve got to tell him?" “Tell him? What?” “About Marcia." “But why? Surely there’s no need ?" Doris laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t you see, she will if we don’t?" “But why on earth should she? What has it go to do -with him?” Doris sighed. “Men really are stupid. Of course it has a lot to do with him." “What? Why?” Cyril looked astonished. “Oh everything," answered Doris, with feminine reasoning, "it's all quite clear, can’t you see what he thinks about her?" “You mean he is in love with her?" Oh, nonsense. Did he tell you so?”' “Tell me?" Qoris’tone was full of scorn. "Just as if I don’t know." Cyril shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well you may be right—l expect you are."

“You don’t expect anything of the kind, but I am all the same—be quiet—" as he was about to interrupt. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve got a plan— lt you think it’s right." Cyril thrust his arm through her’s as If she had been the pal she was speaking of. “Of course, it’s right. You always will be right.” Doris squeezed his arm. “I think I’ll tell him myself," she said slowly. "You? And then—?”

“And then It will be all right, of course," she said inconsequently. "Leave it to me.”

Doris smiled a mysterious smile of superior woman's wisdom. “He won’t, or I’m very much mistaken " Cyril smiled too. “I leave it to you. Poor old Jim," he added. “I do hope it will be all right." “Of course it will. Come on, let’s go in, they must be ready now." Lunch was a very merry affair. Jim insisted on Doris playing hostess in her own bungalow, and she accepted joyfully. They lingered over the meal. . There was so much to talk about, so many mad projects to be made and discussed. Doris had never been so happy in her life, and Cyril and Jim behaved in the maddest fashion, more like a couple of schoolbays than grow up men, as Doris assured them frequently. They toasted her and they toasted the coming wedding, regardless of the fact that the date had not been settled.

Presently Doris raised her. glass. “WE must drink Marcia's health too. Why we're almost forgetting all about her."

“I’m not,” Jim put in, and then looked rather embarrassed.

Doris could not resist a little glance of triumph at Cyril. “Oh, go on, say I told you so," he laughed. “Told you what?" asked Jim.

"Oh, lots of things,” answered Cyril. “Have a cigarette. This little girl of mine is a sort -of witch, she reads my thoughts and yours. I’m going to drink Mrs Leighton's health. I think she’s a brick,” he added emphatically. Coffee created a diversion. They moved from the table. Doris sank down comfortably in a deep basket chair and beckoned to Jim.

“Come here, Jim," she said laughing lightly. “I’ve got a lot to talk to you about. This wonderful bungalow, and all sorts of things. Cyril, you go out and wait till you’re called. We're tired of you." She squeezed his hand as he passed. “All right, only don’t be too sure I'll come back. I’Ve got plenty of other friends in the place.” Doris pushed him out. She turned to the man sitting next to her, and scrutinised the dark, sensitive face, and she felt glad for Marcia. With all lier heart she prayed that she might not be wrong In her judgment of him. How would he take it? “Jim," she began bluntly. "You are fond of Marcia, aren't you?" He looked her In the eyes a moment, as If deciding whether or not to disclose the secret of his heart.. Then he answere quite simply, “Yes." Doris put her 'hand on his Impulsively.

“Oh, I am so glad; now I know exactly what to do. “What to do?" “Yes. I’ve got something to tell you, Jim. It won’t make any difference to you, Jim, I'm sure of that, but it will to her."

“To her—go on, please." His voice was low and serious.

"1 will, and you mustn’t be angry with me or Fate or anything else, when I’ve done —no, you won’t be,” she added, looking again at him closely.. Then in as few words as possible she .told him what Marcia herself had told her. Jim rose and walked away across the room when she spoke of the money-lender and his threats, but mastered himself. Doris went on without looking round, , gazing straight out at the sea through the open door. At last she stopped. For a moment there was a dead silence. Once she thought she heard a .muffled sob. Suddenly Jim slood beside her. lie took her hand. She saw that he had 'his cap on. “Jackson," he called. “Quick. Tile car. I've got to go to the station, i'll send him back for you both. 1 can’t Ihank you now. Doris," lie added us lie moved towards tin 1 gate. “Where are you going?" she asked In a low voice. •Tm going Io her,” he said simply. Doiris breathed a heartfelt sigh of The car shot, down the street at a dangci'inis pace, and Cyril wandering somewhat disconsolately round the back of the bungalow, heard it. 118 aama round tbe house, “What's

he up to? Where's he going?” Doris got up and stood in the doorway. The golden sunset caught her hair and the breezes ruffled it caressingly. “To Devonshire, I 'think. That's where Marcia is, isn’t she, stupid?" Cyril gave a shout. "Hooray. You are rather clever, aren't you?" he added admiringly. Doris nodded. “Of course, I ant." Then she held out her hands. She looked radiantly happy. “Let’s go on the beach till the car conies back.” Cyril drew her to him and looked deep Into her eyes a moment. Then, hand In hand, like two happy children, they wandered out into a golden sunlit world. (The End.)