LOVE'S DARK JOURNEY

Waikato Times, Volume 126, Issue 21037, 13 February 1940, Page 3

LOVE'S DARK JOURNEY

by MARGARET COOKE

YARN—THIRTY-NINE ! Jim thought little of that at the moment. He walked quickly towards the door, his pipe gripped between his teeth, his lean yet muscular body swinging easily. Rose opened the door as he knock- ■ ed. “Hallo, Rose! No one at home today?” His deep voice travelled a long way into the house, and up to Judy’s room. She had been there for the last half hour, on the pretext of having a bad head. Actually she wanted only one thing—to be alone. “Not what we’d call home,” said Rose, more than a little crossly. Then her frown disappeared, for she could understand what Judy was feeling, even if she believed the girl was being foolish, and wasting her thoughts on a man who was not worthy of a moment of her time. Sorry, Mr Martin, I’m in the dumps, and so is Mrs Frensham, and ” She hesitated, and Jim Martin’s eyes narrowed as he stepped past her into the hall. “What’s the trouble, Rose?’ * The old nurse hesitated. Was she wise to say anything, or should she leave things to work themselves out? She had not the slightest desire to interfere, but she was desperately anxious to see Judy happy. Moreover, she liked James Martin and, despite the difference in their ages, she believed that Judy and he would make an admirable couple. In the past few months a firm friendship had sprung up between Rose and James Martin. Both of them realised that the other was thinking less of themselves than of Judy, and there could have been no stronger bond than that. Rose drew a deep breath, and decided, quickly, to tell Jim what had happened. Anne Frensham was in the village, and Judy was safely upstairs—Rose knew what the ‘ headache ’ meant. As Jim Martin sat in one of the easy chairs in the drawing-room, the old nurse dropped into a chair opposite him, and her face was serious. “Ye’re fond of Judy, Mr Martin?” “Do you have to ask that?” asked James Martin, and although his voice was steady his heart was beating fast. What was the matter. Was Judy ill “No, I needn’t,” admitted Rose, “but it was better to hear it from ye’re own lips, ye understand. Now, Judy—Judy is not in love with ye. Ye know that?” The man pushed his hand across his forehead. “Of course. And my big hope is that one day she will be. But—what is it. Rose? Don’t be afraid of being frank—l would rather know ] just what the trouble is.” I “The trouble,” said Rose quickly. “is yon man, Renway. Ye know about him?” "I think I know that Judy loves him,” admitted James Martin. “She does, and it’s a bad thing f n* the girl and for others. Last week it was that she saw an announcement of their engagement, and—she’s drooping, ye understand? That handsome, painted hussy that had the brazenness to come to the gardens one day—ye met them, Mr Martin. He’s engaged to her, and since she heard it Judy has been colourless—aye, even ill. She’s brooding, and I'm afraid for her health. So i is Anne.” Jim Martin did not reply for a moment. He looked very strong and capable as he eyed the woman who was doing what she thought best in telling him the whole truth, and he was tremendously grateful. At last: “Thank you, Rose,” he said quietly. “I think I shall know how to treat Judy. And after a week or two ” “Or a month or two,” put in Rose. “It all depends on how quickly she recovers from the first shock,” admitted Jim Martin with a grave smile. “She will begin to forget, and then I can probably suggest something that will help her to Keep forgetting. But we’ll have to leave her for a week or two, anyhow. You will let me know if—if she seems to be fretting more!” “I will,” promised Rose. Thus the bargain was sealed between them, and Jim Martin felt more confident in his mind, and yet worried about Judy. He did not go back that Saturday, of course. It would have been foolish for him to do anything out of the ordinary. But without Rose’s information he would probably have talked of the subject that had come up between him and Judy on the previous week, and in her present state of mjnd Judy would probably have said—or done—something that would have made it impossible for him to keep on hoping Instead, he was just the same old reliable friend, and despite her Heartache, Judy found comfort in the sight of him, and listening to his deep voice. It was on the Saturday afternoon that Mark Renway and his unci) had quarrelled so bitterly. It was January, and there was little or no business at the tea-shop, although one or two people who worked in the village but lived in Winchester, went there regularly for meals. Rose—who seemed to see everything—had seen the car going through the village, and she had told herself that something was ‘up’. Mark Renway’s face had been set and black, and he had been driving recklessly. “ That young man will meet trouble.” she told herself, tightlipped. “And I’m not saying he will not deserve it.” But two hours later, when she heard what had happened, she could have eaten her own words, for she was a kindly soul at heart, and wished no man harm. It was Jim. who had been for a stroll through the village, who came back with the news. His face was set with anxiety as he entered the room where Rose Dale and Anne Frensham were sitting. Judy was not there, he saw with relief. “What is it?” Mrs Frensham was quick to see the bad news that he carried. "Jim ” "It might be a lot worse,” said Jim Martin, knowing that any sudden shock, spoken carelessly, might affect the other’s weak heart. "Mark Renway’s car crashed ” (To Be Continued.)