THE LUCK OF THE LINDSAYS

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12610, 22 November 1926, Page 4

THE LUCK OF THE LINDSAYS

(PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.)

BY

MARGARET TYNDALE.

[COPYSICH T.l

CHAPTER XVI r.— Continued. More than a month later Aunt Bessie was sitting, sewing diligently, by Adela’s side as the girl lay asleep in a big, comfortable armchair which Thompson had set under'the shady trees of the Priory gardens. It was noon, but the' great house seemed entirely quiet; and as Miss Gunning remarked this fact she sighed inaudibly while measuring out some white cotton with a melancholy eye. She looked much older, for the past few weeks had indeed tried her strength more than she knew; but she did not sigh because of her own weariness. She was thinking of Adela, who, in spite of all her careful nursing, seemed to be making but little progress towards recovery from the after-effects of the illness that had followed hard on the heels of the injury she had sustained from her fall on the morning upon which she had last seen her husband. Later on in that eventful day, Miss Gunning had wired to Lindsay’s club in London, and also to the hotel at which he usually stayed, telling him of his wife’s illness, but no answer had reached her, and she naturally concluded that he must intentionally have left no address by which his wife could communicate with him, other than through his bankers. So throughout those anxious days when Adela lay ill, Aunt Bessie worked like a Trojan, refusing the doctor’s suggestion of a trained hospital nurse, and accepting only the services of those of the servants whom she deemed most competent. And it was significant of their good feeling s-nd respect for their young mistress, since they had one and all resented her coming, that there was not one of them who did not do his or her best to lighten the arduous responsibilities which Miss Gunning had assumed. That this accident had been indirectly the result of a quarrel between their master and his wife, they knew; but not one of them hesitated to lay the blame at another’s door, and thnt one was Roger Mainwaring. But for the time being this gentleman was absent from the Priory, for Alec Lindsay had insisted upon his brother-in-law accompanying him abroad. This plan had not fallen in with Mainwarina's schema of things at

all. He had endeavoured to remain at the Priory on the plea that his hand required the attention of a doctor; but a thorough examination of his injury by> the local practitioner left no room for his patient to pretend to a more serious hurt.

“All you want is rest, Mr Mainwaring,'’ L)r. Greenwood had said; “I should advise you to take your brother-in-law’s advice—a long sea trip in the finest prescription I can recommend.” And in view of this, Mainwaring was forced to accompany Lindsay upon his travels. He did, however, obtain permission to remain a dav or two longer at the Priory, telling Lindsay that he must see that the management of the estate was left in capable hands—by which he meant that he should personally select a deputy after his own heart. So deeming it better to let him have his own way, Lindsay accompanied by Donald, whom he had decided to place under the care of a reputable private tutor in London, left the house at once, giving orders for their luggage to bo forwarded to tho cloak-room at Charing Cross station, and to bo left there until it was claimed. He left his address with Mainwaring, which the latter, however, took scrupulous care not to divulge to anyone, and, hearing r.f the accident that had befallen Adela, he kept the more religiously within the shelter of his room, lest Miss Gunning should foroe him to reveal his brother-in-law’s whereabouts. For Aunt Bessie’s time and attention was too much engaged in the sick-room to remember that Mainwaring was still in the house, so that when he did take his departure she was none tho wiser. After that the days dragged by, and tho house lay enveloped in a deathlike calm; until one morning Dri Greenwood had pronounced his patient to be out of danger. He wag a kind, broadminded man, and having gathered from Thompson something of what had taken placo on the morning of Mrs Lindsay’s accident, he did not scruple to tell Miss Gunning that Adela w r ould nover completely recover until her mi-id wns .set at rest. Tho old lady sighed V- 1 ?,-' ,v ' ■ ' ol ' i 0 alone understood the difficulties that lay between Adela and a conciliation with her husband. With ceaseless regularity Miss Gunning had written Limlsav accounts of liis wife's

health, addressing all her letters to the family bankers in London; but she had reason to fear that Mainwaring managed to intercept most of them, since Tie generally acted as his brothei-in-law’s secretary. She had managed to secure Donald’s address, blit even lie was not aware of his father’s intentions, except that Lindsay had spoken of being away from England a whole yoar, and that he had mentioned spending some time in New York. Miss Gunning had begun to relinquish all hope of making peace between Adela end her husband, and although she did her best to appper cheerful when in her patient’s company, there were times when hope seemed dead witmn her.

This morning in particular the fee'ing of depression had increased, and, try as she would, she could do nothing to raise her spirits. “Poor old auntie,” said Adela, with a wan smile as she opened her eyes and let them rest on Miss Gunning’s pale face. “You have knocked yourtelf to pieces in nursing me, and I am going to take you away to the seaside as soon as I possibly can. I feel heaps 1 letter to-day, and I am going to see what I can do to bring the roses back to your cheeks.” Her cheerfulness for the moment revived Miss Gunning’s spirits, and they were discussing the merits of various parts of the country where it was possible they might find the quiet, healthful life they both needed. I t'l'o be continued.) :