|Newspaper Title||The Daily News (Perth, WA : 1882 - 1950)|
|Trove Title||Money Or Wife ?|
Money 02? Wife ?
'I don't think ho thinly bo,' said Colonel Dawney. 'May I sit down?' 'Please do,' said Enid. Then she smiled. 'I have a sort of idea that you would like to smoke, wouldn't you?' He nodded his head.
'Yes. You really don't mind?' 'No; I'm used to smoking.' She -colored hotly after she had said this; tout CcSonol Dawney did not. at tach any significance In the words;' If ho had thought about them 'he would possibly have imagined that Bhe meant that her ifather or a brother smoked constantly. . ? ? She longed to help him as she saw him take put his pipe and tobacco pouch; (but 'he was so quick and deft with his one hand that 'to offer to as sist would not only have been hurtful, but unnecessary. As though- guessing her thought?), Adrian Dawney turned to her as 'he lit
a match. ? 'I never Kjease to bo thankful that it was my right arm that was spared, though I daresay I should have got along Just as 'Veil with the other one. It is wonderful what we can do when we try, isn't It?' 'Yes,' said . Enid, 'wonderful,' She was thinking to herself, and realising hdw much harder his' Iburden was in a sense than her own.
'I hope you don't -mind a pipe. 1 can't get used to cigarettes, and a cigar Is an after dinner affair.' - *.'I like a pipe,' she answered him. 'fit's. 'so.' homely. Mrs,. -3resihaan '\n going to ask you to give us tea this af . ternoon,' she added. ? 'TWat's Rood, I Bhould like to show you my little home. I always hated towns and tilg citle^-the -;ountry 'for me. Don't you love It?' 'Yes,' said' Enid. 'But we cftn't always have, things we love, ?Colonel Dawney.' . 'No; that's true.' He smoked in silence for a minute or two, and then he said— ^ 'Are you rested? I thought you looked tired out when you came yeB terdajv Young Hammond 'says that you -work so hard.' 'One must work if one wants to do anything.': . ; 'Has 'he 'got .any talent?' ? / ? ; Enl^ paused before answering, and then she said—
'Not real talent; but foe has a rerj' ! pretty voice, and he his Improved very ; much,' , 'They ought to lhave put him into the army.V said Dawney. . 'He is a good boy, -but all this artistic, business is ! wrong. I should like , to have 'hiim with me for a few months, and make ' him do, some ploughing and real hard ?work.' . ' , ' ] At that very moment .Desmond Ham mond -Mmeeif came into view dressed, in Immaculate.-: white flannels, and with a towel slung over Ills shoulder. 'Hullo! Dawney, you're an early bird,'' . ? lie said';' and then his expression changed and he colored hotly as he saw Enid. 'Good morning,' he said, 'you are up earlyl I thought you were going to stay in bed for breakfast.' 'I didn't feel like it,' said Enid, as .sho -shook hands with hlmi 'The sunshine tempted me, and I' had to 'cbme'out;'' ', ?..' ,' WI say, I wish I'd known. I've been mooning around and wondoring; when someone would wake up.' 'Had your swim?' asked Colonel Dawney. 'No; I was ju»t going to the rivor,' 'Well, don't let m» keep you.' Mr, Hanimond made no reply, but he kicked the long matting bag on the ground. ,, 'What's this?' ho asked. , 'Fish for a gooa little 1)05'! ana if you like. you, can carry it to tho kit chen. It weighs very nettrly eighteen pounds.' '. ? 'One1 of the gardeners can do that,' said Hammond, rather coldly. Colonel Dawney got up; and with a faint smile Tield out his hand to Enid, 'Well, au revoir, Miss Sinclair. I shall look f orVard to seeing! you this afternoon.' 'Aren't you going to stay to break fast?' asked the other man, trying to put eome civility Into his tone. ? 'No; I must get back. I ha/ve a hundred a»d one things to do, Just tell Mrs. Gresham I thought slio would like that salmon.' 'Good chap that!' said DesnTOnd Hammond, as they s&t down .on tho bench and watched the tall figure leap the wall lightly and disappear out of sight. 'I should think he mus-t be a splen did man,' 'said 'Enid, 'All1 the women are mad about him, I suppose that's because he got mauled about in tho war. I don't call him very handsome.' Enid smiled as she looked on the expression of the face beside her. Then she got up, 'Shall I help you carry this salmon to the house?'
'What an idea!' exclaimed Mr. Hammond. 'We will leave, it there, I'll send someone, for it.' He was looking at Enid with undis guised admiration in his eyes, .He had never seen her as she was this morning. She was wearing one of her pretty frocks of tho year before, just a white cambric with some embroidery on it, Her hair was colled loosely about her head. She looked young, a more girl, The expression in Ham mond's eyes brouaht the color rushing to her face, 'Do you know, I really think we ought to have n shot at it ourselves,' she said, 'I'm awfully strong. You take one end and I'll take the other,' Ho had to obey her, and they carried the big flsh through the wooded part of the grounds buck to the gardens. Mrs. Gresham was standing at the door' reading her letters as she saw them coming across the lawn, She scolded Enid while she kissed her. f
iou are a naugnty cmiq'.' sne said. 'I was just preparing your breakfast tray. Miss Laurie is more obedient. She. is doing as I told her. What is that, Desmond— a flsh? Colonel Daw ney is jnuch ? too good to me. He is always 'bringing me something. Why didn't you' ask him to stay to break fast?' 'He wouldn't,' said Hammond, 'He couldn't,' said Enid. 'He seema a very busy man,' ah© added. 'He docs moot of the work him self,' Mrs, Greaham said; ''but I don't pity him, for I am sure that makes him contented. 'I want to sec his farm, I am so glad wo are going there this after noon,' Enid said. Young Hammond, however, did not seem to share this satisfaction. He grumbled a little, In fact, because he had made other arrangements for his
aunt's guests. But no ,one took very much notice about his bad temper; in fact, here in this very homely place, with its village Interests and peaceful atmosphere, he was very much less Important than he was whan with the members of the concert party. 'You see,' 'Mrs. Gresham confided to Enid, when they went into the garden after breakfast together, 'the boy has been spoilt from tho very beginning. My ElEter lost her first three children, and Desmond is all that U- left to her, Naturally, therefore, nothing is too good for him, and if he had not really an extremely nice nature, ho would ?have .become detestable toy this time; but his heart's in the right.. place, and In a little while 1 'believe he will get tired of wandering in these artistic grooves, where really ho has no proper place, and will settle ,down to the work which. ho. really ought to be doing1 In his? father's office, I must confess that I am very fond of Desmond, I donvt see half enough of him.' Enid would have 'preferred to discuss Colonel Dawney,. to whom she had been at ?once attracted; 'but she saw that it was a pleasure to her hostess to
talk a'bout Desmond Hammond, and so she listened patiently, But as the day passed, and she was thrown very much into th'e society of this young man, there stole into Enid's heart a little feeling of regret and even of un easiness. Without being in the least degree vain, she could not now dlsgulee from herself the fact, that she was something more than a passing attrac. tlon for youns Hammond, and the mere suggestion of this- was painful and disturbing. It struck her, too, that Manon Laurie a little mischievously was encouraging Hie young man, not so much for a politic rcaoon now, for in any case tho tour was .comins1 .to an end, but be cbums. isho ' honowtly believed she was doing1 Enid a very good turn. . The prospect roused toy this new t'Urn'ln her life put a thrill of fear into the heart of Julian Bryant's wife, as she aat and made her .plans (Car the future. It would be easy enough per haps to dispose of Desmond Ham mond, but how could she protect her self in the future? ^The life Bho had chO3en, the only life she could choose was one which would almost
inevitably brlnig her into' intimate, con tact with the admiration of men, Sitting alone after lunch in the de lightful room allotted to : her, she felt ashamed. She saw at 'once that Mrs.. Greflham had taken a decided liking to her. Tho Rector, too, treated her as though she wero a youiiK arirl. The
hought that she was obliged to deny ler marriage, to hide her wedding ?ing, to seem in truth what she was lot, really, was revolting to Enid!. When she shut her eyes it seemed like i dream to feel that even for a few lours she was admitted as an honored juest in this delightful simple home, ro look ahead was like looking1 along i hard, bleak, ' stony road. , .'After all,' she said to herself, be ;ween 'her teeth, 'I think I shall have to go out of England!' Jt will bo very, rery hard, but not so hard 'as living sn hero as I shall have to live,' :.. She .practically decided that she svould leave the' tour immediately. This tvould mean that she would have to go Dacft to Sybil Jackoon, at least for a little while. And somehow eho tfelt safe with Sjibll. Miss JaekBon was very matter- of -fact, very, practical,1 very unsentimental, , On the .other .hand,! Ma-non Laurie was much more sym pathetic; but now Enid could1' not shut her eyes to the fact that this friend, from the kindest motives, mltrht prove the means of adding to Enid'» burden of care. , -. ?She pleaded a headache when they started to drive in Mr. Hammond's car to 'Colonel Dawney's farm; and shfc looked so pale, with dark shadows around her eyes, thtvt the plea seemed fully justified. Mr. Hammond hafi arranged to drive himself, and Miss Sinclair was given the Beat, 'beside him, but Enid
was a silent companion. Jtgave the young man nevertheless an immense amount of pleasure to feel that she was near him, and that she was al ready a favorite with his uncle and his aunt. He would not let himself be disheartened by the almost open way ln^ which 'Enid shirked anything like a confidential intimacy between them. . . ,. . 'I am going homo next week,', he said to her. suddenly,. Just, before he turned the motor into the road In which 'Colonel Dawney's farm was situated,, 'and I am awfully keen for you to come and stay with my mother, Miss Sinclair. She knows all* about you. My people have taken a house near 'Foxllstowe^ for the summer. It would.be such a really good thing for you to have a good Ions' rest there.' Enid looked at him nervously. '11 am awfully sorry,' she said. 'I am afraid I shall not be able to go to your mother, d have' a great deal ot business that will .keep me in town, and then,' she shrugged her shoulders, T think it is very probable that I shall ha/ve to go to Canada in the early autumn.' - 'Canada!' said young Hammond. He looked very much upset for a. moment; then his face lit up. 'By Jove! What a splendid idea. I've always wanted to go to Canada.' To this Enid could say nothing, but she felt wretched. The difficulties were getting n little bigger. She 'began to wish that her visit to tho Rectory could como to nn end at once. Colonel Dawney was landing at the top of a large field which stretched in front of the low-roofed, old-fashioned house where he lived. 'You had better take the car round there, Hammond,' he said, indicating a road to the right a little higher up. 'You'll Jolt your springs to pieces if you attempt to como down this way,'