THE HEART OF A GIRL.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXX, Issue 3535, 28 May 1912, Page 3

THE HEART OF A GIRL.

BY HENRY FARMER

Author of “The Money-Lender.” “12a, Quiltry Street,” “Bondage,” etc.

(Published by Special Arrangement.)

COPYRIGHT—ALT, RIGHTS RESERVE]}

CHAPTER V!l.—Continued. Queenie tore open the orange-color-ed envelope, Michael Thorne and his bank-notes wiped from her thoughts for the moment. He stood behind her, the paper , money rustling between his fingers as he drew back his hand. His expression betrayed curiosity.

“Deeply regret result of trial,” Queenie was reading. “Received your note and gave messages. In town to-morrow and will call to see you- You will receive letter from Stanmore. All well, be permitted to see him in four months’ time. Joynson Palmer.”

Queenie was unacquainted with prison rules. She did not know that a prisoner on conviction, was allowed to communicate with liis friends by letter and receive a visit, and that, after four months of the term of his sentence had expired, provided that his conduct and industry were satisfactory, ho would be allowed to communicate with his friends and relatives by letter, and to ibe visited by them in prison, this privilege being gradually increased according to liis conduct and industry until the interval was reduced to one month. Had Queenie remained in Stilehester she could have taken advantage of the' rule and seen Hilary after his conviction; but the telegram summoning her back to London had robbed her of the opportunity. She did not know that a six months’ period of practically solitary confinement, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours being spent in a cell, would precede Hilary’s removal to a convict prison.

Her back was still turned to Thorne her expression hidden from him, when she returned the telegram to its envelope with unsteady, bungling fingers.

“No answer,” she said to the waiting bov. The door closed ; she had forgotten 'i nornc. Four months before she could see the man she loved —for twenty minutes with a grille between and a prison warder “taking” the visit. And in the meantime what was going to happen exactly ?

Thorne still held the bank-notes be had offered her. It was their rustle that recalled his presence, and at the same time brought home more remorselessly the domestic problem, not dctachediy, but in relation to her own future and the man she lnved. “Not bad news?” asked Thorne, as she turned.

It was neither good nor bad- It contained no unexpected rav of hope. She shook her head mechanically, and saw that Thorne was again ottering her the notes.

“Go on!” he said. “You’ve got to take them, Queenie. I know how tight money is iust now.” It would have been impossible to say whether he did so intentionally or unintentionally, but he crackled them between his fingers. The sound —that crisp, peculiar sound—would have brought water to Mr. Price’s mouth.

“Thank you—hut I can't!” she answered.

She could not take exception to his offer or his conduct. In reality, it made no difference whether he paid family hills and doctors’ fees, or gave her cash; but somehow she felt- thatin offering her actual money in this crude and open way he was trying to drive his object lesson home more pointedly and personally. He was violating all that was sensitive and proud in her nature. “That’s ridiculous!” lie said bluntly. “It’s not for you personally; but you’ve got the head-piece of the family, and ought to he cashier.” He was not telling her in so many words that he did not trust her father and was acquainted with his idiosyncrasies, but ho was implying it.

“I: —I cannot!”

She was hopelessly inconsistent. She realised the fact; but she could not bring herself to take the money. “Well, if you won’t,” said Thorne, “your father must!”

Must! As if Mr. Price would require any persuasion. With the words Thorne turned to go up, the stairs. Queenie reached" out a: hand to stay him, but if he saw the gesture he took no notice. Her wounded pride betrayed itself in a -blazing wave of color that swept her . face and left it whiter than before.

Heaven only knew how much money the family owed him already, or how it was to be paid back. She was telling herself desperately that- it must be regarded as a- loan, whatever Michael Tltornc might say to the contrary ; but this determination of hers only brought her face ,to face again with tfie problem of where the money was coming from to pay it back. She had lost her situation at Voile’s. It. was essential that one member of the family should devote herself to her mother in the future. It meant either that or a trained nurse. And

then, as she watched Thorne pass up the stairs, her attitude one of desper-

ate indecision, her inconsistency was again brought home to her —her futile effort to dodge relentless facts by' refusing to' handle the man’s actual money. As if that minimised the obligation under, which Ire had placed the whole family, including herself. His money and prompt assistance had saved her mother’s life. More than tiiat, he was taking steps to prolong it as far as it was human, ly possible to do so- She had refused his bank-notes; yet a, few minutes before she. had accepted his offer—been compelled to accept it- for her mother’s sake —to .provide for Mrs Price.-

Queenie drew the telegram from its envelope. Four -months to go before she would ha permitted to see Hilary, and Heaven only knew what would have happened in the interval. When she looked up Michael Thorne Thorne was descending the stairs. “You —you must give me time,” she stammered, when he reached her. “.But I—wo shall'pa,t you back.”

“What nonsense!” he- said. “What’s the use of friends if they don’t stand by you?” His eyes glowed. In the business world lie was achieving his ambition. But money and the title of Copper King did not represent the sum total of his ambitions. They included a woman. He had desired her when ho was a plodding clerk —and Mr. Price, though borrowing small sums, looked on him as ineligible for the post of son-in-law; he desired her more fiercely now, and the other fellow, Stanmore, had been knocked clean out of the running- She might believe in his innocence and still care for him; hut Stanmore was out of it, and not in a position to put up a fight for her against circumstances and h i s —T borne’s —m oney.

But Thorne possessed a sense of proportion. The game was in his hands and he knew it; hut Stanmore had only just been sentenced. He wanted the woman's love—as well as possession of the woman—if ho could get it. But to propose to her on the top of Stanmore’s sentence would be a diplomatic blunder. “I shall he round some time to-mor-row/’ he said, “and as soon as your mother’s stronger, we’ll get her away and fixed up comfortably/’ She was compelled to take Ins cutstretched hand ; compelled to stammer out lame expressions of gratitude.

“I’ve heard about the way-you’ve been treated at Voile’s.” lie said, retaining her hand in his own —rhis hands always seemed a little clammy to- the touch. “Particularly brutal under the circumstances. I could fix you up as I’ve fixed up Beryl and your brother: but you’ll be better employed looking after your mother—for a time at all events —and you won't have to worry about money!” She could have .screamed. Money again—always money ! Yet he was goading her with it. thrusting it into her face, proclaiming its necessity in such a way as left her no loophole for exception. Site could not fling his money hack into his teeth. Her hands were roped behind her by obligations.

“I don’t express any opinion, one way or the other, on the verdict,” he went on, reaching out to the door, “But I know what you’ve been through and are going through now. ] can’t express my sympathy.” He was not looking at her as he opened the door. Queenie was in the passage alone, again staring at the telegram, when Mr Price came down the stairs.

“Just going to settle up a few bills!” he explained, “Michael’s thoughtfulness —the dear fellow’s delicacy”—his voice broke—“ God bless hi m! ”

Mr. Price certainly paid the wine merchant’s bill, but- ordered a bottle of liqueur brandy- for his invalid wife—and a- box of excellent cigars to he charged to the. account. Then he betook himself to a bookmaker, and had two-ten each -way on a horse. After that, happening to meet, a friend, lie confided to lmn his domestic troubles and the unbearable state of suspense he was in owing to his wile’s precarious condition. He himself felt on the verge of physical breakdown. which, however, might be stall-, cd off by oysters and champagne — about the only two things, ho explained, that he could either fancy or digest.

. When Mr. Price ultimately returned home there was not much change left out of the ten pounds intended by Michael Thorne for household expenses.

(To be continued daily.)