THE MOCKER.

White Ribbon, Volume 37, Issue 434, 18 September 1931, Page 4

THE MOCKER.

(Continued.) CHAPTER X. “It will be the supreme Jest for me to-night, Jim," Phyllis remarked to Jim Pryor some hours later on the same day. They were standing together in the wings of the huge theatre in which Phyllis was to sing, and awaiting her turn. In answer to his look of inquiry, she replied. "Yes, the final, acid test. Instead of sitting down and crying my eyes out, as I feel like doing, 1 have to go out and face that crowd and sing as if my heart was as light as a feather. If 1 can please my audience to-night, while my burden of care is almost too great for me, then I will indeed be able to call myself an artist.” Jim, very well-groomed and distinguished in his evening clothes, looked down sympathetically at his companion and said, with conviction; “You’ll do it alright, Phyl. You have the right spirit, and you must put Joan completely out of your mind for just those few minutes. Remember, I will help you all I can.” “Thank you, Jim. you’re the mainstay of the band,” she replied, attempting to smile. "It is the uncertainty that is getting me down. If I could have seen Billy before leaving home, and heard what he thought of Joan, I would not feel so worried.” “Had he not seen her at all?” “No; Rona promised to send him round, but no one seems to know \ here he is. It is so puzzling, for be always leaves w ord where he is goin,

“Oh! well, perhaps he has turned up by now. and Joan’s illness may not be very’ serious after all,” Jim said comfortingly. “Yes, that is true. Ah! our turn at last," she exclaimed, as a sound of clapping reached them, followed by the appearance of the elocutionist, who had just finished his item. “Let me take your wrap, Miss Moore,” this gentleman said kindly, as Phyllis was slipping her cloak from her shoulders. Thanking him, she gave him the garment, and went composedly and steadily out to the footlights. Her appearance always predisposed her audiences in her favour. The winsome beauty of her face, her simple, unaffected manner, and last, but not least, her tasteful and exquisite frocks, always charmed the eye even before her really lovely voice delighted the ear. On this occasion she had chosen a frock of palest green satin. The sleeveless bodice was moulded to her figure, while the graceful petalled skirt reached nearly to the ankles. Her i>eautiful neck and arms were bare of ornament, but on her gloveless hand Billy's ring sparkled and glittered in the bright glare of the footlights. Her stage make-up hid the pallor which intense anxiety had caused, and, as she bowed slightly and smiled. In response to a burst of upplause, not one of that large crowd could have guessed that she was not as happy as she was beautiful. Her name appeared on the programme to sing the exe :ti* g "Jewel Song” from “Faust,” am. by dint of complete concentration e.* the music, and with the help of Jims artistic and brilliant accompaniment, she achieved a decided success.

She had to appear twice more in answer to insistent encores before she could conscientiously feel fret to hurry back home. Knowing how impatient she wan to find out Joans condition, and whether Billy had returned, Jim wasted no time on tlie return trip. He drove in silence, as he knew from past experience that Phyllis was too wist; to risk any vocal injury by opening her mouth and inhaling the cold, frosty air after coming from the hot, crowded theatre. As they neared the dance-hall in Hinewharewa, they could hear the blaring of the jazz dance music, mingled with the shuffling of dancing feet and the sound of merry voices. Going in by the Uiek door, the first person they met was Ralph, who, indeed, had been keeping a sharp look-out for them. "How is Joan, Ralph? What did Billy say was the matter with her?” Phyllis asked quickly. “He hasn’t turned up yet, Phyl,” Ralph answered, “and now Rona has disappeared. Janet and I have kept tin* Ikill rolling,” with a faint smile at his own Joke, “but the crowd are beginning to ask questions.” “Perhaps she has gone to see Joan,” Phyllis suggested. "But 1 cannot understand why Billy has not come or sent word to me why he is delayed.” Janet came from the l»all-room at this moment and engaged Phyllis’s attention, so Jim took the opportunity to ask Ralph his opinion. “Dashed if I know’, Jim! Neither of them are at home, because I rang a few minut ‘s before you came in. Anne is furious localise Billy has not come. He turned up once, and said there was no cause for alarm, but that he would bring Rona up later.” “Why doesn't she get Dr. Thompson if she thinks Joan seriously ill?” Jim asked. •‘He’s out in the country, and she has »>een hanging on expecting Billy every minute. ’ “Perhaps Rona is outside here,” said Jim, nodding towards the door. Many cars were parked in the enclosure surrounding the hall, and few of them lacked occupants, both during and i»etween dances. “Well, it would be rottenly l>ad manners If she is.” Ralph replied. “If you ask me, It’s bad manners and rotten, too, for anyone to go and hide in a tar, but they all do it, so why not Rona?*’ Ralph was called to the 'phone before he could answer, and dashed away, thinking that perhaps it was news of Joan. To his surprise, a curt, masculine voice said: ‘That you. Ralph? Well, it’s Thompson speaking from Itakau station. I’ve got some bad news for you. Theere has been a had motor smash on the railway crossing here, and Dr. King is very seriously injured. Mrs Philton. who was with him, is deud 1 would advise you to get here as soon as possible, if you wish to see Dr. King alive.” l>az- d with shock, and unable to believe his ears, Ralph stood absolutel>

numbed ami silent, until the doctor's voice sharply asked, “Are you there? Well, 1 would not waste any time, Ralph, and I'll wait here for you.” “Thanks, Doctor,“ Kalph managed to say. “We'll come at once.' * * * Ten minutes later, Phyllis Moore knelt on the dusty road lieside her lover. He had not been moved, as l>r. Thompson knew his injuries were too severe for him to live lons, so when I’hyllis arrived she had found him lying with closed eyes just where he had N*en flung out of the car when the train engine struck it. Lit ing one of his hands gently in l>oth of hers, Phyllis spoke softly, “Hilly!” He opened his eyes ami looked his surprise and pleasure at seeing her. She bent over him, a lump in her throat, and deadly fear in her heart. “Hilly!” she repeated. She wanted to cry out to him that he must live for her sake, and that she could not exist without him, but she controlled herself, knowing she must not spoil these last few moments of their earthly companionship with selfish complaints. He smiled at her, whispering “Phyllis forgive—The Mocker —too strong, dear!*’ His eyes closed, an<l she stopped breathing, thinking he had left her, hut a few seconds later he murmured brokenly: "The w'ings—of a—dove. Sing, dearest,” and for the second time that night Phyllis thrust all thought of self aside to sing, softly, fully and gloriously, the wonderful aria her dying lover had sung so often and so well: “Oh! for the wings of a dove. In the wilderness build me a nest, And abide there for ever at rest.” The clear tenor joined with the sweet soprano In the last few phrases, making tin* moonlight night sweet with exquisite music. As the last lingering notes breathed quietly and soothingly on the air, the soul of Hilly King winged its way into the Great Unknown, liornc oil waves of lovely, melodious sound. “Rest . . he sighed, and slipped away from her. Phyllis knelt on, unheeding of everything except her utter, awful loneliness. Kalph came, and. raising her gently, led her to the waiting car. She went obediently with him, apparently stunified with grief and sorrow. Ralph broke all speed limits getting home. As he led her into the diningroom. Phyllis looked at Anne standing by the fireplace, and memory stirred within her. “Anne! Anne! I'd forgotten Joan,” she exclaimed in a distressed way. Before Anne could reach her or speak. John rushed forward and threw himself into Phyllis’s arms. “Oh! I’hillimore!” he cried, “Nurse says Joan has gone to be with Jesus. She hasn t. has she?” and he sobbed bitterly. Phyllis read the truth In her friend’s grave face, nnd for a moment felt like following John’s example and sobbing

out her grief aloud. Instead, she drew' the weeping child closely to her, and smoothing his hair, gently said, “Don’t cry so, John, dear. Billy has gone to Jesus too, and he and Joan will keep each other company.”

“But 1 want Joan, Phillimore,” the little fellow said, checking his sobs. “Jesus has heaps of children, and I’ve only got Joan. Ik) you think if I was very good, He would let Joan come liack to me?" The pathetic question nearly undid her over-strained composure, but once again, for the sake of the child, she forced herself to answer: “Joan will be so happy, dear, and will not be sick any more. You would not like to tiring her hack here to be ill again, would you? Billy has left Phillimore tiehind, too, for a while, so you must take his place and look after me until it is time for us to go to them. Will you, old chap?” The little hoy lifted his tear-stained face to hers, and throwing his arms around her neck, kissed her. “Scout’s honour, Phillimore,” he said solemnly. (To tie Continued.)