Heart of Gold.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 225, 22 September 1928, Page 12 (Supplement)

Heart of Gold.

I By C M. MATHESON | j Author of "NUT IN THE HUSK," elc. etc j|

CHAPTER XIV. It was a week before she told anyone of her meeting with Jim Lacy. Then she overheard her mother say: "Doreen hasn't mentioned Jim for quite a while." Entering the room she said quietly. m "Oh, I saw Jim in tlia street some time ago, but he didn't want to be seen speaking to me." "Didn't want to be seen speaking to you! Why not?" Mrs. Mallory demanded. "I don't know. I suppose he's finished with me." Mrs. Mallory drew a long breath. "Weill" she said. "I never heard the like!" "No," Doreen answared. "Neither did I. He pushed me out of his way and went on." "Pushed you?" "Yes, he did." "Well, you won't think of him again after that." "No. I've finished, too." "Doreen, you're sure you didn't make any mistake? You're sure it was Jim?" "Sure. Do you think I wouldn't know my Jim—" She broke off and bit her lip. "It was Jim all light," she added. "He's a hard man," Mrs. Mallory said. "I always said he was hard. But sometimes they are the best. When he used to come after you I thought he was the best of all for you to have. Hard where you were too tender; strict where you were too flighty. But if he's done what you've just told me he's done too much."

"Well, we won't talk of him any more. I've quite finished. I never want to see him again." "I'm downright sorry—" "I don't want to «ee him again, mother. I don't want anything to happen that will spoil—what I remember of my Jim. My Jim was—L .t what's the good of talking ahpi't him at all? I'm going to forget him." Mrs. Mallory looked at her daughter. "Well," she said again. "I'm downright sorry it's come to such an end as this." "So am I," said Doreen. Mrs. Mallory recorded these remarks to her husband. "Well, I'm glad," he said. "Now she will perk up again. iShe's moped long enough. I'll be glad to have my girl back again like she used to be." "Her ladyship's going down to Scotley for August and September," Mrs. Mallory said. "Doreen will like that. It'll do her good." "And maybe 6he'll find another chap down there where she's known," said Tom. "I'm downright sorry about Jim," Mrs. Mallory repeated. "I can hardly believe what Doreen told nic." At Scotley Jim Lacy had no place. Doreen had met him in London ,and he know her childhood's home from her stories. There was nothing at Scotley to remind her of the happy days of her childhood. Everyone who had known her since she was born would be kind to her. She was of firat interest to the villagers. Doreen Mallory—the beautiful Doreen Mallory as the papers had said, who had been tried for murder and had been acquitted. Doreen Mallory whom her ladyship befriended. Doreen Mallory her ladyship's favourite. "She'll be in here' to 6ee me before long," said one village woman. "I've known her since she was a little maid in a flannel dress."

"She played with my Esther and Maggie every day. Site went to school with them. She'll be coming in to tell us all about it. She'll have more to tell than even the papers had," said another. "It's never been proved. She didn't kill that man," said a third. "She was acquitted because she defended her honour. Some people said it was an accident. An accident isn't murder, and so she got off." When Doreen arrived and found herself the centre of gossip she regretted she had ever had to return to this place. Was there nowhere that she could go to escape all this discussion and conjecture and interest in her affairs? When Lady Edith said to her,

"Are you glad to get back to Scotley, Doreen?" she answered "Not particularly, uiy lady." By her attitude, her aloofness, opinion in the village changed towards her. Where they had professed affection they now showed scorn. They said, "She knows more than she ever let on. She's ashamed to come down and see us and talk to us about it." August passed thus, practically without event to add to the history of Doreen Mallory. The quiet life, the familiar surroundings and the association with a mistress whose sympathy she clearly felt, restored Doreen to something of her old joy in life. And when young Malcolm Adeane, who had expressed his admiration for her in Cadogan Square, arrived early in September with Lord Scotley and a number of other people, he lost no time in frankly informing the girl that he had in no degree lost his appreciation of her good looks. He made his opportunities for speaking to her. He said, "Say, you look fine. More like your self, I should say, than you were when I saw you in London." She slipped past him with only a swift sidelong glance to mark his speech. The next day as she crossed the Park with letters Lady Edith had asked her to post, he overtook her. Dropping into step at her side, he said, "Say, Doreen, what's the matter with you and me Laving a chat sometimes?" "Oh, no," she answered. "But why not?" he urged. "My lady would never like it ; " "Don't be too sure." He remembered an animated discussion at the preceding night's dinner when Lady Edith had staunchly upheld his theory that, in marriage, only the fitness of the two parties counts. Wealth, rank and position should not matter at all. If, they had argued, a man and woman are fitted to one another, and honestly love one another, there should be no impediment to marriage. Someone had answered, "What would you say if Dainton married a waitress?" She had answered, "Of course, it would depend on the girl. If she was fit for him " "Would any waitress ever seem fit to marry your brother?" "It is possible." * "Put it the other way round. Would you ever consent to marry an artisan?" "It would depend," 6he had anrwered, "on the artisan." I ,"0n his manners and education and Waal gifi?!"-' ' ~ "

"More or lees. Of course these would necessarily be taken into consideration. Health and good manners would come first."

Young Adeane, the only son of a younger son of an important family, had beea born and "raised" in Canada. His visit to England was in the nature of an education. Lady Edith greatly approved of him. Although he was ten years her junior, and 6he did not care for "boys," she made this stalwart young man an especial favourite, and the two frequently supported each other in argument.

Malcolm Adeane had been much intrigued by the stojty of Doreen Mallory; he had seen the girl in London, and had been astonished that that slight childishlooking young thing, with her flower face and her shy manner, had had the nerve to stand up in the face of a police court and claim responsibility for a terrible crime. When he heard that she had actually done this thing to secure, or, at least, ensure, the release of the man she loved, he was, as he said, "knocked endways" with admiration. He watched her through every phase of her ordeal in court; he alone (besides the Seotleys, to whom the policeman who had regulated the crowd on. the days of the trial had told the story) knew that Jim Lacy had spent his time making every penny he could out of tho throng who waited to enjoy the sensation of seeing a young girl tried for her life, and ho drew his own conclusions. He heard later of Doreen's encounter with Jim. He was profoundlv sorry for the girl. He was "eaten up" with admiration of her phick and her beauty. Ho intended to follow everv opportunity that could bo afforded for speaking to her, and in an excess of heroine-worship he had already considered the possibility of marrying the girl, making all her life sunshine, turning her tragedy into a triumph. Of these ideas he had, so far, 6aid nothing to anyone, not even to his confidante, Edith Scotley. He had a "glimmering" that perhaps, after all her talk, she might not be pleased at a union between her friend and her maid, and there was the possibility that she might "let on to the old man" (by whom he meant his father) with the result that remittances would be stopped in favour of a return ticket to the ranch in Canada. (To be continued daily.)