LOVE’S DARK JOURNEY

Waikato Times, Volume 126, Issue 21043, 20 February 1940, Page 3

LOVE’S DARK JOURNEY

by MARGARET COOKE

CHAPTER XXIV. (continued) Judy Frensham was outwardly calm, j but inwardly she was shivering with ! anxiety and excitement as she followed the doctor into the private ' ward where Mark Renway was lying. ' She forced a smile to her lips as i she entered, but she could hardly repress the little cry that came un- , bidden to her tongue. | Mark was lying absolutely still, j with a big cage over his legs, which I had been broken so badly in the , smash. His face and head was | bandaged, too, but his eyes were ; free, and his right hand. He was looking towards the door, I and as he saw who entered his torn lips parted in a twisted smile, and there was a light in his eyes that Judy had never seen before. "Judy!” “Mark!” The two names seemed to hum across teh room, and the girl flew to the side of the bed. Her hand grasped his, firmly and yet gently, and Mark Renway sighed, a sigh of real satisfaction and contentment. “I’ve waited so long for you, Judy. I thought you—you had forgotten “I—l was waiting for you to send for me,” she said. His eyes were soft. The surgeon, who was watching and listening, was astonished at the strength of his voice, and the affect that this girl had on him. "I’ve wanted you so,” he said. “It’s been dreadful here, Judy. I couldn’t speak, I could only dream—unpleasant dreams, too. That you’d forgotten me, that you no longer j cared for me. I haven’t—talked much, darling, but—but you know I love you?” She bowed her head to hide the j tears that were in her eyes. “I—l know, Mark.” “So many things seem to have j happened since we went across the ! downs,” said Mark Renway. “I ! can’t remember them, Judy. They j seem dark and brooding, but it ; doesn’t matter now. I can see the truth—l didn’t want to admit it then, j I was afraid of it. But I love you. I want you! You’ll marry me, Judy?” i And Judy Frensham, knowing that 1 this man’s memory had gone com- i pletely, knowing too that he did love j her and that this crisis had revealed ! the fact to him, said that she would, j softly, gently, with a heart almost | too full for words. Yet she knew that they night j | never marry. The day would come when his • ! memory would return, and his knowj ledge of his promise to Ren.' Willett, j And he would want to redeem tnat i promise. Even now the consunv* I mation of their love might never j come, but for the time being he was ! happy, and she too in the knowledge ; | that whatever happened, his love j would be for her. I But it was a brittle happiness, one | that she feared might break at any j time. CHAPTER XXV. j Rene Willett had stayed at the i Winchester Hotel for the whole of : j the week. There were excellent I j reasons for her preferring that to ; visiting the Manor, although Sir John ; had bidden her welcome. His pre- ! judice had been entirely forgotten ; after the accident, j But she was free at the hotel to jdo as she liked. At the Manor she I would have found life unbearable, j She had made further inquiries of ] the surgeon at the hospital, and it j was increasingly obvious that Mark j would not be a fit man for a year or I more. On top of that, the man had i warned her that the explorer’s memory might be affected. Rene Willett studied the situation coldly, wondering just how it would affect her, caring for nothing else. ; Certainly there was little chance 1 of marriage for that year—and the must have money That was es- j svntial. Her mother would be aocut again in a month and if they were ♦o return, to the St. John's Wood house, or to surroundings as luxurious, a rch sponsor was essentia l . In short, Mark Renwav was ot no further use to her. That was the decision which she reached but, hard-hearted though she was, she could not bring herself to say so yet. Nonetheless she was desperately anxious to get back to London. She had loved Mark Renway as deeply as her shallow heart would allow her. But it had been the man's handsomeness and his splenctid physique which she had loved, not J the man himself. And now there was no physical attraction. She might as well marry any one of a dozen men who would be eager to take her in marriage, and shower luxuries upon her. Her beauty was the key to that, and she knew it 1 well. There were several men in j London who had asked her to marry j them a dozen times, who did not ask j for love, but only the pleasure of j having her at the head of their table, ' of bearing their children. According to her own standards, she had been loyal. But now , Thank heavens, she told herself i time and time again, that she had not been disfigured. That would have been the crowning blow, and her whole life would have been in ruins. But after a few days nothing of her slight injuries revealed themselves. ; On the morning when she had i been to Mark Ren way's ward, and he I had failed to recognise her, she had decided to go to London. She did not know that soon after she had left the room Mark had asked for Judy Frensham. Had she done so, she would have felt at first enraged, and then filled with a fierce delight at the easy solution of her troubles. As it was, she wanted to spend a few days in the j great Metropolis, to see those friends I of hers who could solve her troubles. , It was four o'clock when the taxi j which she hired drew up outside the I house of one of London's richest j industrial magnates. He was at j home —a rather stout, florid-faced j man, who had spent a small fortune : on gifts for Rene Willett, but who j had received little or no encouragement. His name was Felling, ! Arthur Felling, and his name was < one to conjure with in the business | world of London and the continent. | “Why. Rene! What a delight to : see you here!” (To be continued)