A Wandering Bride

Gisborne Times, Volume XXX, Issue 3513, 2 May 1912, Page 3

A Wandering Bride

BY MARION WARD.

Author of “Love’s Thorny Path,” “His Fair Lady,” etc. (Published by Special Arrangement: ' All Rights Reserved.) CHAPTER XXXVIL THE END OF LORNA. The best of medical skill, the kindest care and nursing, wore bestowed on poor Loved ay at the hospital, and yet ior many days her recovery was absolutely despaired of, and she lay perfectly unconscious in her little white bed. . It was not the being knocked donn, Dr Ashley, the house-surgeon, explained to Nurse Margaret, who was in charge of the nameless patient. Beyond a severe shaking and some bruises the poor girl has escaped any serious injuries. It is shock to her nervous system. She must have been suffering from overstrain of mind and body for months before, and now I doubt her rallying, even if she manages to escape brain fever.”

There was not the slightest clue to the patient’s identity, for her clothes were not even marked, while, poor Loveday, her bag was waiting in Har-t-on street in Mrs Browne’s care, and that contained the few papers and letters she had preserved. In the pocket of her jacket was her purse containing something under two sovereigns and her handkershief, that was all.

“I here must be some hearts sore for the loss of her,” thought Nurse Margaret, as she looked at the beautiful girl; and being a kindly-natured woman she wished with all her heart that “No. 27,” as they called Loveday from the number of her bed, might yet recover, or if that were possible, might at least come back to consciousness sufficiently to tell the names and addresses of her friends.

But for ten days and nights “No. 27” lay perfectly insensible, then on second Sunday after the accident, to the intense surprise of the nurse and doctor, she opened her eyes suddenly while the latter was making his morning visit to her, and asked anxiously “What is this place, please? How did I come here?”

“It- is St. Gabriel’s Hospital, and you were brought here ten days ago unconscious. You had been knocked down by a- brougham close to Hart on street.”

“Ten days ago!” there was a sort of choked sob. “Oh! I shall be too late, they will think me so "ungrateful.”

“Oh come, my dear.” said Nurse Margaret, “no one" will think you ungrateful for not going to them when they hear how ill you have been. Just give me the name and address of your friends and I will write to them.”

“We will explain,” put in Dr Ashley kindly, “that all this time you have been unconscious and unable to tell us even your name.”

“I was not on my way to friends,” said Loveday slowly, “but I had. a chance of a situation. I was to have gone to hear about it on the next Saturday, and if 1 'have been here ten days, that day must have long passed.” “Whom shall I write to?” asked Dr Ashley anxiously, for he was still a little afriad of brain fever if his patient excited herself. “Don’t try to talk or to tell me any more, only give me the name and address of the person you want written to.” “Mr Vernon .... please say that L. Day has 'been too ill to come and hear about bis aunt’s situation. I—l forget his address, hut ho is a lawyer in the Temple.” “Is his Christian name Ronald?” asked Dr Ashley. “I have a friend called Ronald Vernon, and he has an office in the Temple.” But the blue eyes had closed, and Loveday had drifted back into the land of oblivion. * “It’s a. strange tiling,” said the doctor, “she looks a lady; odd that she should have no home and friends. I’ll go round and call on Vernon this afternoon; if lie’s the man she meant, lie’ll know who her friends are.” Dr Ashley was as good as his word, for Loveday’s sweet, sad face had made a great impression on him, and he felt interested in the mystery which seemed to hang over her'. By three o’clock lie was at Ronald’s flat. “No, it’s no‘t a visit of pure friendship, Vernor,” the doctor said cheerfully, when his old friend had welcomed him cordially. “I think you may bo able to givo mo some information respecting a patient at St. Gabriel’s who has been there ten . days, and is known to us as No. 27, because until this morning she was unconscious. She was brought in late on last Wednesday week "after being knocked down by a. carriage. This morning she spoke for the first time, and gave ns a message for a Mr Vernon in the Temple, hut she lost consciousness before she could give us his exact address, pud I thought it might he you.” “Thank God,” breathed Ronald, “it must be Loveday, found at last.” “L. Day is the- name she gavo us. Do you really know, her ?” “I know her so well that I would, give half niy remaining span of life to call her my wife. My uncle and aunt- are in town, and as they are very much interested in Miss Day, I

am almost certain they, will offer her a homo as soon as elio can leave the hospital.” “Which won’t be yet awhile,” said Dr. Ashley. “Until this morning I thought lief rase hopeless, but I feel

more cheerful about her now. If Lady Vernon wishes to see Miss Day, ask her to call between three and five to-morrow ;I think the visit might do our patient good rather than harm, if your aunt is careful not to excite her.”

When Dr- Ashley left him, Ronald went straight to his uncle’s hotel, and then he told Sir Lionel and Lady Vernon of Loveday’s accident. “I will go and see Miss Day willingly,’’ said -Lady Vernon, “but would not your Aunt Lucy lie. the better person, since she already knows the young lady, while I am a stranger to her.”

“I think not,” answered Ronald, “my Aunt Lucy parted from Miss Day not very kindly, because- she had been prejudiced against" her, so a visit from her might recall very painful recollections?”

Lady Vernon- went to St. Gabriel’s the next'day, and “took to” Loveday on the spot; perhaps the thought of all that the girl had suffered at Northeliff made her heart go out to her in pity, and then, too, Lady Vernon had- all her life longed for a daughter. - She could not, as she liadi recently told Sir Lionel, have borne now to have a young follow' of her boy’s age about tlic house—it would have been too painful—but this -beautiful girl was another thing. In fact Loveday’s trouble seemed to make Lady Vernon forget her own grief, and she seemed so much roused from her depression that Sir Lionel left her in Ronald’s care and made tbc journey to Northeliff, which lie had contemplated ever since he heard his nephew’s theory about the means employed, to keep Lorna Daventry alive.

He went straight to the Rectory, where he saw Mr Barrington, who fully confirmed all that Loveday had told Ronald.

“I have seen nine companions at Northeliff, but I though at first thatthe extreme dulness or the situation frightened them away. They never visited us or any other of the Colonel’s neighbors. The reigning companion would appear at church for the first few weeks, then v.'e would lose sight of iher, and if we inquired about her absence, we used to be told she had a c-old, or was busy at home with Lorna; then, before we had even' heard of her intention to leave, her successor would appear on the scene v "At first,” went on the clergyman, “T felt honestly sorry for the Colonel and his wife; their devotion to Lorna scorned to me so beautiful that 1 could understand their annoyance when they could not retain any companion permanently, and it seemed to -me the frequent changes must be so trying to a delicate girl like Lorna. In the spring of last year, when they had been without anyone for several weeks, I allowed my oldest daughter to go to Northeliff as a temporary thing.

"At first she was there only a few hours a day, and she became very fond of Lorna, speaking also very warmly of the kindness she received from the Colonel and his wife. Then Mrs Daventry begged me to let her stay through the week, coming home every Saturday and. returning on Monday, and as my child was perfect, ly willing to do so, her mother and I consented.

“Perhaps her loss of strength was so gradual that we did not take alarm at first, but at the end of two months my wife was nearly frantic about our child, and her lover, who came down to see her, was so how Vied at the change in her that- he wanted to marry her by licence to take her away from Northeliff.” “And von think ”

“I did not think then of the terrible tiling you have suggested,” said Mr. Barrington gravely, “because it never occurred to me, but I am bound to say, now you have mentioned it, that your theory explains things better than niy, own. I thought it was a case of auikr.nl magnetism, of transferring by means of some hypnotic power the strength and vitality of one girl to another.” “Who is staying at Northeliff now as Lorna’s- companion ?’’ asked Sir Lionel anxiously.

“No one.” Mr. Barirngton spoke as though thankful. “The last young lady, a .Miss D-crmot, left a week ago of her own accord, after only a fortnight’s stay, and up to now the Colonel has not found anyone else. I suppose he dare not engage anyone with friends in the neighborhood, and ho would have to select not only a girl of strong physical health, but one with no fond relations or close friends likely to be anxious about her. This makes the choice very difficult,, and I expect Miss Dermot’s leaving in such a hurry unexpectedly has put him in a fix.”

“How long is it since you have seen Lorna?”

“About a fortnight. I met her and Miss Dermot driving soon after the latter came to Northeliff, and then Lorna looked no worse than usual.”

*' “Where is Colonel Daventry now? Isn’t ho at Northeliff?” “No, he is in London”; I have thought myself his object is to ei> gage a. new companion at some registry office. Dr. Brent is here, and I notice that he and the Colonel never leave the village at tho same time.” “I shall go to Northeliff and insist on seeing' Miss Daventry,” was Sir Lionel’s decision. “Sh© is my mvn cousin, pnd on her mother’s side I am her next-of-kin.” (To be Continued.)