THE MOCKER

White Ribbon, Volume 36, Issue 426, 18 January 1931, Page 7

THE MOCKER

(By "Alpha”) CHAPTER. IV (Continued.) Dinner over, Billy persuaded Phyllis to go for a stroll with him, and, as they walked in the cool shade of one of the pieces of beautiful native bush, laddering the drive, she asked him what had caused his late arrival that morning. **l was delayed in my rounds, dear, and 1 began to think I was not going to make it even in time for the anthem.” he told her. ‘‘l thought you were not coming at all,” she said, “and 1 thought perhaps Temperance Sunday frightened you off. I know you do not see exactly eye to eye with mother over the Prohibition question.” “Oh, as to that, I did not know it was a special service of any kind,” he answered, ‘'but, in any case, 1 should have turned up. if humanly possible, after 1 had promised. And as to not agreeing with your mother —well, sit down lu re a moment,” indicating a comfortable seat built round the trunk of a large tree, “and let us talk.” Phyllis seated herself, and Billy sat down beside her, one arm along the back of the seat. "You see, near,” he went on, "I can see perfectly well that your mother does not altogether approve of me as a husband for you. and 1 don’t know that 1 blame her. As I have told you, I did go the pace like a fool for a while, and booze was at the bottom of the trouble. Your mother knows that, and consequently distrusts me. Also, she knows that the craving for drink is in my blood. The dear old man was quite right in what he said this morning. Wine is indeed a mocker. It robs a man of his hopes, his honour, and his happiness, and then, when he turns to it for comfort, it mocks him

and turns him mad. But I would not have asked you to marry me if I did not think I had got the better of that craving. If eter you see me the worse for liquor, 1 will be quite willing lor you io break our engagement, for then I would not be a tit mate for >ou. But I hope and lielieve 1 am strong enough to stand any temptation, so perhaps you will i>e proud of me yet.” “Why, 1 am proud of you, Billy, without any ‘yet’ about it/’ she said, turning to smile into his eyes. "1 am sure drink will never part us, but there is one thing I have always thought 1 could never tolerate in the man 1 am going to marry.” She paused. ‘‘And that is?” he queried. "Personal unfaithfulness,” she answered. ‘That 1 could not overlook.” Billy rose to his feet, drawing Phyllis with him. He lifted her arms round his neck and smiled serenely down into the beautiful grey eyes, so close to his. “Be happy, then, dearest,” he said earnestly, “for you till my heart and life, and 1 have no eyes for any other woman while I have you.” The dark head bent to the bright one, now resting quietly on his shoulder, and Billy was happier that day than he had ever been before in the whole of his brilliant, erratic career. As they stood thus, the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of heavy footsteps and a peculiar, tuneless humming. Phyllis raised her head and smiled at Billy. “The waddler!” she exc aimed, and pulling him by the arm, ran to the edge of the driveway. A short, heavy figure, clad In a tweed costume, head bent, was plodding slowly uphill in the blazing heat. At Phyllis' call of "Hullo, there, Waddler! Where <liu you spring from?” the head was raised, to disclose a very heated countenance, decked with horn-rimmed spectacles, and streaming with perspiration. The humming ceased, and white teeth flashed in a merry, friendly smile, as the new-comer mopped her face vigorously before answering. "Hullo, yourself! Not too much of the springing in this heat, and you'd waddle, too, if you had as much avoirdupois to cart about at 95 degrees in the shade as I have! Why people build their houses a thousand miles from their gates on the top of a hill, always puzzles me! Good-day, Doctor?’ This last to Billy, who stood smiling broadly at her as she delivered the foregoing half-humoured, half-grumb-ling speech.

“I was wondering when you were going to fling me a word," he said, laughingly. "By golly, its too hot to waste words,” she grumbled. ‘‘Are you coming up to the house?” They answered in the affirmative, and all three started up the driveway. The heat, when they were exposed to the sun, was intense, and they were glad to reach the cool, shady verandah. Here the rest of the party were already, resting In various attitudes, Ralph flat on his back, a cushion under his head. After general greetings, the Waddler tossed off her hat, sank thankfully into a big arm-chair, and begged for lemonade ‘‘Still the same old Waddler,” said Ralph from the floor. "Always thinking of her tummy! You’d better not drink anything cold while you are so hot, had she, Billy?” appealing to the doctor, who had seated himself beside Phyllis on the broad railing of the verandah. ‘‘No, indeed, nurse. If you w-ant my earnest, professional advice, I say you should not have it, ’ said Billy gravely, his brown eyes twinkling with hidden mirth. “Rats!" said the Waddler, energetically, throwing a fat cushion wdth particularly good aim at Billy, thereby seriously disturbing his equilibrium. “Ralph, you ginger-headed baboon, get me something to drink, or I'll sit on you! Ralph sprang up under the impetus of this threat, saying, "I’d sooner have an elephant, dear Waddler,” and vanished into the doorway, just in time to avoid another well-aimed cushion. He returned to poke his head out ‘a'ltiously, and ask. "Would you And it less exhausting if you wore lighter—er —garments, nursie?” "What’s wrong with this?” the Waddler wanted to know, glancing down at her comfortable tweeds. “They keep the beat out far lietter than the flimsy frills and furbelows that Phyllis and Janet wear.” She paused and looked round as everyone laughed. Ralph said, "Yes. and keep it in. too. by the look of your noble phiz.” He disappeared again in response to u menacing glance from the Waddler and a ‘‘My lemonade, slave, or I'll squeeze the breath from your body! ’ The Waddler then leaned back In her cushionless chair, stretched out her legs, ari smiling round, w*ld, "Now, everybody, tell me the news. ’ (To t>e Continued.)