LORRAINE ALL-ALONE

Waikato Times, Volume 122, Issue 20422, 12 February 1938, Page 19 (Supplement)

LORRAINE ALL-ALONE

(Continued from last week) •• Now, as I knew nothing of the envelope' In the tallboy, Lorraine — until It was sent to me by our good friend Mr Dunstan—l can only assume that Mother, after her seizure, hid that money in her tallboy without saying anything about it. I wasn't even aware that the tallboy boasted a secret hid-ing-place. If my mother’s mind had not been weakened by her Illness, I’m sure she wouldn't have done such an oddly Impractical thing. Curiously enough, though, she proved to have been right in foreseeing Molly’s ‘rainy day*. “The rainy day arrived with a vengeance. Molly’s lovely house and, furniture had to be sold. Even then, she and her husband and child were practically penniless. And ‘it never rains but "it pours’. The shocking news killed my mother. Then, before I could get into touch with my sister again, there came the still more terrible news of Molly and her husband being burnt to death in a railway acoident. That—temporarily—was the end of everything for me. I collapsed, and was desperately ill for months. Directly I recovered I sold the old home and some furniture.’* Miss Godfrey paused .at that point, as If looking back into the tragic past. Lorraine’s heart was thudding. She gripped the arm ol Miss Godfrey’s chair. “All that—that kind of ‘rainy day’, and the railway accident —is what happened to my Daddy and Mummy,” she said breathlessly. “You simply can’t mean that—that poor Molly could be—was—?” “Your mother? Yes. She was christened Marion. She was Marion ot her husband. My sister's married name was Verney—your name, Lorraine!” Miss Godfrey laid her hand upon the girl’s two clasped ones. “ Because you are innately honest and plucky, and had the sense to bring your difficulty to Mr Dunstan, you’ve learned that poor Molly belonged to you. And it follows that the rainy day money also belongs to you, now. As for me—after many lonely years I’ve found my niece.” Lorraine’s face blazed with a happiness that was new* to her. Then It fell again, for a tiny misgiving had pricked her. Urgently she sail to Miss Godfrey: “Please —If you knew there was me, why didn't you—l mean, after you were better, why didn’t you—?” “Find you then and there, when you were first left stranded?” Miss Godfrey finished for her. “ Simply because, Lorraine, owing to some unaccountable mistake the newspapers describing the railway accident reported amongst the casualties the death of Mr and Mrs Adrian Vernoy

BY DORA M. HARDISTY

and their little girl. By the time I was well again, the accident was a thing of the past, and you—according to what the Vicar tells me—were established with Miss Midge. You poor child!” Miss Godfrey drew Lorraine down on to her knee. “Mr Dunstan's given me some idea of your life at Blackberry Cottage. But all that's to end now, dear. You’re coming to live with me. We'H have marvellous times together, won’t we?” Lorraine replied by hugging Miss Godfrey ecstatically and unmercifully. Then she sat erect again. “Miss G—, Aunt Clare, I mean,” she said seriously. “Is that rainy day money really mine?” “Absolutely yours.” “And,” very diffidently, “will you have quite enough, ■without It, to—to—keep me?” “More than enough, darling,” Aunt Clare replied gently. She wondered what all this could be leading to. "Thrfn—would you mind fearfully if I gave the rainy day money to— Sarah?” Miss Godfrey hastily swallowed a horrified gasp and her own feelings towards Miss Midge, and said faintly: “Of course not, child. Do exactly as you think best with the money.” “You see”—Lorraine twisted a button on her aunt’s squirrel coat— “it’ll be so heavenly to get aw r ay from Sarah and belong to somebody—nice, that I'd like to feel—well, square all round.” “I understand.” Miss Godfre’y dared not glance at the Vicar. In a half-choked voice she changed the subject abruptly. “Of course, when we’ve had a few months’ holiday together, Lorraine, we’ll have to think about your going to a jolly boarding school, as other girls do. You won’t mind that?” Lorraine’s reply startled her aunt a second time. “Grey Turrets School 1” she shrieked Joyously. “Oh. Aunt Clare, could I go to Grey Turrets? I’ve watched the girls every Saturday morning, and I do like them. But I never thought I’de be able to be a Grey Turrets girl!” This time Miss Godfrey could not refrain from laughing across at the Vicar. “My dear, of course you shall go to Grey Turrets—after Christmas —if that’s been your ideal of earthy bliss for so longi” Then Lorraine provided the final suprlse. She' burst Into tears. “B-but I’m not c-crying,” she sobbed into her aunt’s shoulder. It’s— Just that everything’s t-turned out so 1-1-lovely, that I’ve g-got to b-boil over a b-bit, if you d-don’t m-m----mind.” The End.