Chapter 79858685

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Chapter NumberXII
Chapter Title
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Full Date1913-08-04
Page Number2
Word Count3150
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Daily News (Perth, WA : 1882 - 1950)
Trove TitleMoney Or Wife ?
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Money or Wife ? CHAPTER XII,— (Contlmwd.)

'I felt so much bettor, I gotvup,' she said, 'What wonderful stuff that, was! I think I shall have to get you to give mo the prescription.' 'You ought not to have many head aches,' Dawney answered her.

'It has been »o hot Just -lately, other-, wise I'm always well,' Enid said 'hur riedly, 'Is tea ready? Oh,* then, I'll come.' \ As she ?picked up her .-hat,»sho said: 'What a charming face this Is 1 She looks as if she had such ; &, happy heart!' * , It was a photograph of Lady Ellen Crooner, and It was certainly a happy Picture. Lady Ellen had a puppy In her arms, and was laughing with eyes and lips. ' 'That Is a kinswoman oft mine, She Is a widow.' 'A widow!' repeated Enid. ''[Why, I thought she was just a schoolgirl.' 'She Is far wore like a schoolboy,'. Colonel Dawney said with a smile. 'We are. great friends, Nell and I; although I see very little of her. She Is al ways promising to rush down here and stay a little while; tout she loves towns, and I'm afraid the country/wouldfoore her,' He amended this with his next words. 'Not that 'Nell Is over easily

bored. That Is one of her charms, »he can always find sunshine wftefevertshe goes.' ?'/??'? ? 'She is lucky!1' said Hnid. In the next 'breath she added— 'There 1s .no thing I should like (better than to live in such a place as this!. How quiet It Is. How far, far away everything seems.' 'It's a little bleak in the winter, and decidedly dull,' said Colonel Dawney; but Enid only laughed Her faint laugh. 'lOh! I shouldn't mind that. I'm used to real cold, 'hard wintry' weather. I believe,' she added in a low voice, 'I like the' winter better, than the sum mer.'

'To me,' Adrian Dawney said',, 'the spring is the most beautiful part of the year; and it 'Is beautiful down here, when 'all the fruit trees are beginning to put out' their white blossoms, and the little lambs are frisking about In the' orchards,' You i ought to know all about -that,' ho added, 'for you are In the spring-time of life.' Her lips' quivered; but she said no thing, and they walked through the garden' in silence. Mrs. Gresham put out her hand and drew Enid down on the seat beside her, 'I— I am never so happy as when I am taking care of somebody,' /she said; 'and I have a strong desire to take care of you. Miss Laurie tells me that you have to go to London on Monday. I wish instead you wpuld change your plans and stay with me.' 'I wish I courd,' said Enid; 'but I am 'so sorry It isn't possible.' She made a determined effort to drive off the shadows; although she knew that this was only a passing spell of peace and pleasure, she told herself that she would take the full advantage of It. Now that she had spoken to Manon Laurie, her heart was a little easier, for she was sure that the other girl would work In with her, and truly she did not want to give young Ham mond any real ca.uBe for mnhapplnesB. 'He has known me such a little while,' she mused, aa later on she strolled through tho ? orchards with Mrs. Gresham. 'He can't really care about me, It is only a fancy; he is very young and we have been thrown together rather closely; If I disappear he'll soon forget all about me.' Mrs. Gresham insisted on Colonel

Dawney joining them for dinner that evening. Ho agreed willingly, because Manon Laurie and Enid had both promised to arrange some music for after dinner. Just as they were strolling up to the top where Desmond Hammond was wait ing1 with the ear, another motor appear ed on the road, and, to Colonel Daw ney's surprise, drew tip also at his gate, 'Someone to visit you,' he answered; but as a tall slim figure got out of the car and stood awhile chatting with Mr. Hammond, he smiled. 'It's Nell,' ho said. ? 'I suppose she must be putting up somewhere round here for. the week end. Now, Miss Sinclair, you will Bee the original of the photograph you ad mired so much.' I Uady . BHen came towards them swiftly. She was all in white, and her plquante face swathed about with the aoft folds of a motor-veil, looked dellclously pretty and very young.

'Here I am,' she called out, 'I told you I should take you by surprise.' Then she laughed. 'Adrian, you're a fraud! I've been picturing you in solitude with only cows and pigs and ducks, land hero you are giving tea ipar. ties and surrounding yourself with beauty.' She shook hands with the three other women, and Enid felt quite dazzled toy the fascinating vitality of this young creature. The photograph had charm

ed her, but tho original was far more delightful . 'I've come to take you back with me,' she declared, turn tag to Colonel Dawney, 'I'm staying with tho Melmetfbeys, you know they; bought gia Lord Benlngfrrough's place whon ihe died, and Grace 'Melmbecbey told me that I was not to come ibacfc without you.' 'Sorryi' said Dawney; Mbut you are just a little late. I am promised for dinner to-night,' A look of real disappointment flashed Into Lady Ellen's twee, although she laughed. 'Worser and woraer,' she said, 'i shall never believe in you and your farmyard again!' They had reached the top by thl time, and Mrs. Gfesham was getting into the car. She looked from Lady Ellen to Dawney. 'Colonel Dawney is coming to dine

with 'us,' she said: 'but ? ' 'Oh! I am not going to break my en. gagement,' the roan said quickly, 'I've been promised music, you know, and that Is a great temptation,' 'And I can only offer you bridge and billiards, scandal and perhaps a kick up of a dance,' As she epoke, Lady Ellen was look ing at Enid, Like every one elso, she was struck Ijy the undoubted physical delicacy of the girl, 'but equally by her beauty. She dismissed Manon Laurie as be ing 'hondsomc, but rather common looking; but Enid was quite a differ ent affair, 'Which is the girl who sings?' she asked Colonel Dawney, as-, the car having disappeared from sight, they turned to go down to tho house. 'I really don't knew,' Colonel Day

noy said. 'They are artists with whom young Hammond has been .travelling, and ho got his aunt to invite them down bore for the week-end,'. 'That fair one is awfully pretty, isn't jfihe, Adrian?' . ; 'I suppose she is,'1 the man; an swered, 'How do you mean, you suppose she 1H?' queried Lady Ellen, -with rather a strained note ,in her voice. ('Well, to tell you the truth, I have hardly realised what sho looks like. I am so struck by the fact that she 1? young, a mere girl, who seems to be breaking .her heart for some roa son or other.' Lady Ellen laughed, ; 'Sentimental Adrian!' she said. 'Don't you know that women's hearts are not made to break nowadays?' 'I' fancy women aro very much 'the samo as they used to bo in overy age, Tho conditions of life hayo changed enormously, that's true enough; but human nature is tho same old human nature, of centuries.' 1 Lady Ellen slipped' her hand through his arm.,, .pi , .,,-«? .y/^^v 'You don't knW :now much 1 want ed you to come back with mo, Adrian,' she said. 'If you hadn'.t accepted to dlno at the Rectory, you would havo come, wouldn't you?' Ho shook his head. 'I don't think so, Nell. I am so out of things nowadays; and I never very much cared for the Melmerby lot.'' 'Does that .mean that you don't approve of my staying there?' He smiled a-t her gravely. 'My dear.' he said, 'I 'can't pretend

to dictate to you what you should do or what you shouldn't do.' Lady Ellen kicked up the rough path wlto her dainty foot. ,.'. * 'Well, I -vrleh you would,' she said, just like a child. .'I'd be .ever «o much happier if 1 had somebody to give me orders and make me do things. ? 1— l know I must get (into mischief If I donlt have someone to look after me.' ?'I thought the duchess was doing that very thoroughly.' Lady' Ellen shrugged her shoulders. 'Oh! I am only a little bit of Poppy's life. iShe has so many other Interests. Of course, I know she cares for me, but she can't be alwaysworryi Ing about me, can she?' Then Lady Ellen paused and looked about her. 'Oh! Adrian, it's sweet here, ^It's a dream of a place. What a lovely ,alr, I believe I should always be 'happy, if I lived: here.' At this Adrian Dawney laughed al most happily. {?De-r child,' he said. 'You'd love it for a day, well, perhaps a week, antf then after that you'd want' Bond -street and a dinner at the Rlez and a thea tre. You'd find It so dull.' * 'Adrian,' Ellen Crooper said, and there was a curious note of depth l,n her voice. 'You always make me feel aa if 1 were such a worthless piece of goods.'

'That's the very last impression I want to make,' the man said very quickly. 'But come in and let me give you some tea. You are not in a hurry to go back, are you, Nell?' 'I don't want to go back at all,' she answered ihim, 'now that you won't' go back. I wish Mrs, Gresham, her name, is Gre&ham, isn't it? would have asked me to dine there to-night.' 'Come .along,' said Colonel Dawney. He stretched out his one hand and led her to the house. When she was in the drawing-room and 'iaw that her picture was in the place of honor, she ran up to It and' clapped her hands delightedly. 'Oh! that .is dear of you,' she said. 'I— I'm fearfully flattered at being here, and all by myself, too, no other photographs. That shows you do think about me a little bit.' Dawney had walked to the window and was putting up the blinds a little nervously. 'Why shouldn't I think about you?' '1 don't know,' she answered, and then she sigh«d, 'Look 'here, can I make uip some excuse and say that I have got to go away to-night, then then I, can come and stay here, 'couldn't I? You'd have room for me made, wouldn't you?' 'I'm sorry, my dear, , but it Isn't possible,' ihe spoke almost curtly, 'I've no accommodation here, at.least not without a good deal of prepara tion, and you can't play fast and loose with your friends in this fashion, you know. .What would Lady. Melmcrbey think?' , 'I suppose I can't,' said Lady Ellen; and 'she- looked' at him very dismally, 'How 1 do wish I hadn't accepted Grace.'s invitation. I«—i know perfect ly well why she askod me. It was because she thought she would get

noia or ia.r. x»ryant, 100, fine IS crazy about/him, and In her stupid way ima gines I carry him about in my poc ket.' Colonel Dawuey's fine' brows con tracted in a frown. 'Now, then, make yourself at home,' he said, 'and I'll get you some tea. Go and sit 1n -tbo garden. Ill come to you there.' 'Is fills whoro you sleep?' asked Lady Ellen, as she was passing out, She .pointed to th© couch on which tho two white pollows rested, He shook his head.

'No; I brought those down becauso Miss Sinclair was so ill, I made her lie down for a 3ittl& while,' 'Then all the moro chance far me,' Da-wney answered .briskly, 'Now, I can see qttito plainly that you are worrying about something, and you are very young to bear troubles all alone. If it is something you can't tell me, do let me urge you to make a confidante of Mrs. Greaham, Sho is the best and sweetest woman in the world, and she has already lost her heart to you.' 'There are some things,' Enid said in her tremulous voice, 'that one can't tell.' His brows contracted for an In stant, and then he laughed, , 'Ah!1 how young you are!' ho said. 'All your little troubles seem heavy

sorrows. But—really, I don't like to think of you fretting and worrying when some of us could help you, Do think it over. Promise me to take the medicine and go to sleep. Make up your mind, and you will sleep! To morrow H'm coming over to have a long talk with you. Good-night.' She said 'Good-night' in a whisper, but it reached his ears, and the tears came again as she turned back Into the room, the kindness, and, especially such kindness as his, touched her very, very deeply. When Mrs. Gresham 'came up about half an hour late she found Enid in

bed again, and pretended not to see 'the tear etains on the pretty face. 'By Colonel Dawney's orders,' she said, as she hold out the little glass; 'and I want you to do me a favor, dear child; please stay here and take all the rest you can to-morrow.' ' '-I promise,' Enid said. She swallowed tho dose in the little glass, and then she held up her lips, and Mrs. Greaham bent and kissed hef just as if they had been mother and daughter. ?? ? ? ? ? . ? Lady Ellen 'Crdoper's first act when she returned to London' was to call at Mr. (Bryant's, He had told her a day or so before that he had no intention of going away for any length of period this summer; and he had let her understand that he \vas busy; but he did not explain what his work was.' It was with a little thrill of disap pointment that she heard that Julian was away from home. His butler add ed' that he really -had no idea when his master would return, '. 'Mr. Bryant's movements are so very uncertain, my lady,' he kid. 'We are not/ forwarding on letters; but sometimes Mr. Bryant sends up and collects them, or calls himself.' 'Oh ! I' see,' said Lady Ellen.

'Thank you.' She sighed once or twice as she walked away. She was dreadfully de pressed. Her week-end visit had been a great failure, and there was a. little soreness in Lady Ellen's heart that absolutely refused to heal, She hardly 'knew what had taken her to find Julian except that she was lonely; like a child, she was without anyone to amuse her, and sho , had turned to Mr. Bryant, feeling that he at least would have been able to dis pel her dullness. 'I shall go off to Homburg,' she said to herself, A few days before she had received1 a pressing invitation to go abroad with some rather flashy American people, whose acquaintance she had but recently made, She could always go to the duchess; but somehow she wanted distraction, excitement; she did not want to sit down and think In too concentrated a fashion; moreover, there were one or two tiresome matters which Lady Ellen was anxious to run away from. As a matter of fact, it' was a new thing for her to have been backwards and forwards in London during Au gust: (but she had been considerably worried about money and as for a time, through Mr. Tenderten's good

offices, this sort of annoyance had been taken from her So completely, Lady Ellen' fretted now at having once again to deal with the cost of her ex travagances. ' This was really the reason why she had been unable to go away_ for any length of time; but not the only rea son, ' , * The fact was that, though she did not confess so much to herself, she was never really happy when she was away out of reach of Adrian Dawney. She made pretence with herself and called him her friend, and said over and over again In her thoughts that

she had need of him, that he, was the one person in the world whose advice she felt was necessary, who really flid know what was good for her, This day, however, as. she -walked away slowly from her visit to Julian Bryant's house, there came over Lady Ellen a reckless sort of feeling to cut herself adrift from all .that up. to now had signified so much to her. .' 'He asked, me to go down to the farm,' she iaid to herself, and there were tears in her eyes; 'yet when -i was there he seemed to want to get ?rid of me. How stupid il am!, Why should I bother about Adrian when he doesn't bother about me; he was far more interested in those two girls, es pecially in that delicate, fair one. 1 suppose she has never done anything stupid or foolish!' London was practically, empty, at least empty of those people who made Lady Ellen's world. She looked listlessly In the shop windows in Bond-street, and at/ last turned wearily to her own house, There she found a very unpleasant letter, a letter in which she was warn ,ed that if she did not' pay a certain debt by a certain time .proceedings would be taken against her,

.She immediately went to the tele phone and rang up Mr. Tenderten. Hlg clerk answered that Mr. Tenderten was out at lunch. , 'Please ask him to ring me up di rectly he comes in,'' said Lady Ellen. 'It is important!' She sat waiting for this summons after -her lunch till tea time arrived. Fortunately, a batch of new books haa come from the library, and she had lost herself for a time in reading one of them; but This time it was Lady BHen who' frowned. She said nothing, 'ant bit ?her lip, and went out Into, the garden. Colonel Dawney interviewed his housekeeper once again, and before he Joined her he stood watching her as she threw iherself into one of the chairs. There was an expression on his face which had- It been seen by Ellen Crooper might have thrown a sudden enlighten* ?ment on much which .perplexed her and troubled her. Certainly if Enid Bryant had seen him with that look on his (face she would have under stood what the man had hardly as yet dared to confess to himself. (To be Continued.) ''? .