UNDER The SHADOW

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1068, 4 September 1930, Page 5

UNDER The SHADOW

By

Elizabeth York Miller.

Author of “ Conscience,” “ Carry On," “ The Brass Box,” etc., etc.

CHAPTER XVIII. (continued) “Be sure aud have something ready at once for Sir Lionel,” she told the butler. “He probably won’t wait to change.” “Yes, my lady. Certainly.” The door-bell pealed and he hurried off to answer it. Enid rose, followed him into the hall. It might be Lionel, having mis- ! laid his latchkey, or perhaps a message from him. A pale-haired young man with a small dispatch-case was putting his dripping umbrella into the hall-stand. “It’s Mr. Curtis, my lady,” said the butler. “Sir Lionel’s secretary.” "Oh, yes!” Enid exclaimed. She knew she had seen the young man before somewhere, but couldn’t for the moment remember where. “Have you brought a message from —from my husband?” she asked. Mr. Curtis stared at her, slightly bewildered. “I beg your pardon? Sir Lionel asked me to come around after dinner ” “Come into the library,” Enid said, leading the way. She felt rather foolish. Obviously Hurst had not mentioned his marriage at the office. “Where is Sir Lionel?” she asked anxiously. By this time, the young secretary had partially recovered from his surprise. His eye had caught sight of Enid’s wedding-ring. “Isn’t he here?” he asked. “No, he hasn’t come home yet,” Enid replied. Then she added; “It’s very curious.” “You expected him sooner?” Mr. Curtis laid his dispatch case on the desk, and ran a nervous hand over his pale hair. “Yes, he ordered dinner at eight. Perhaps he didn't tell you that we were married this afternoon, Mr. Curtis.” "He didn’t mention it. My best wishes, if I may be allowed to offer them, Lady Hurst.” “Thank you very much. But where can he be? When did you see him last?” “At the office, about six. A gentleman had called to see him, and Sir Lionel told me not to wait, that he’d lock up—he often does—and that I was to come around here after dinner to clear up some odds and ends, as lie was going down into the country tomorrow.” “I tried to telephone the office," Enid said, “but the telephone is out of order. Do you think anything can have happened?” She sank down suddenly on to a couch as though her strength had completely given way. Young Curtis thought for a few seconds that she was going to faint. “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about, Lady Hurst,’’ he said reassuringly. “Sir Lionel often stays at the office until ten or eleven. I’ve known him even to sleep there*” Then he turned a little pink, realising that it must seem very odd to a bride to be so neglected on the very day of her marriage. “There must be a public telephone downstairs,” he added. “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just run down.” “Yes, please do," Enid urged. It was raining again, a sullen steady downpour. Enid returned to the drawing-room, where the butler brought her some coffee which she ! drank off .scalding hot. She told her- ! self that her nervousness was due lo the storm, but it was really more than i that. All day she had been keyed up i to face this first evening alone with ! Hurst ns hits wife t_t~.. I

mon it back at will. She was like a limp rag. If Hurst came in now, as he might do at any moment, in his usual bounding way, she knew she would scream if he touched her. The secretary was gone nearly half an hour, which seemed like eternity. He looked rather worried when he came back. “I can’t get any answer from the office so Sir Lionel must have left. And I’ve rung up every other place I can think of.” “The Automobile Club?” Enid asked. “Oh, yes. Perhaps he’s on his way home now.” “Very likely.” Enid sighed deeply, and then offered Mr. Curtis some coffee which he accepted, and availed himself of her permission to light a cigarette. "I think I’d better—well, if he isn't here in another half-hour —he may have met with an accident,” he said disconnectedly. “That’s what I’m afradi of. Rut it’s rather unlikely, isn’t it, Mr. Curtis ?” “Oh, quite. Still ” “Yes, accidents do happen. But surely someone would have lot us know?” “Of course.” There was a brief silence, then Enid asked: “Was it a business appointment, Sir Lionel had? You said a man called to see him about six.” “I don’t know. It was a young man by the name of Lennox. He’d rung up several times during the afternoon ” "Lennox? David Lennox?” Enid faltered, her lips growing white. “Yes, that was the name,” the secretary replied. “Sir Lionel said he would see him.” He looked anxiously at the newlymade Lady Hurst. “Are you ill? You mustn’t get upset, you know. Let me fetch you a little brandy.” He was concerned in a nice, boyish way, and hurried out before she could reply. She sat staring before her with glassy eyes. By now David would know she was Hurst’s wife. Well, he’d have to know some time. What had he and Lionel said to each other? She could imagine a little of what their conversation might be like— David, whose temper could be uncertain, overcome with a rage of pain, and Lionel, triumphant, perhaps laughing at him. Only a few days ago she and David had clasped each other to the heart and sworn that nothing was strong enough to part them. But that was before she knew the whole hideous truth of her indebtedness. Would it ever be possible for David to forgive her? “Bought and paid for.” That was what Lionel had said when he told her. Young Curtis came Pack with a liqueur glass. She was conscious of the butler hovering in the doorway and then Orpen appeared, a tower of strength. “You must come and lie down, my lady,” she said firmly. “No doubt it’s all right, and Sir Lionel wouldn’t like for you to worry so. Isn’t that true, sir?” Curtis agreed with her. “I'll just—l’ll just go out again,” he said. “Be patient, Lady Hurst. You know, it’s no good getting the wind up.” lie smiled boyishly, although his eyes were anxious.

The butler hurried out to open the door for him and had to remind him to take his umbrella. “What do you think it is?” the man whispered. “I’m sure I don’t know,” the secretary replied. “Of course something has happened. It might have been a street accident. Do you happen to know if he ordered the car, James?’ “He never has it at night, sir—not lately—because he doesn’t know when he will get away.” “Well, don’t let her ladyship worry l if you can help it.” | “Rough luck on her,” said the butler | with a grim but knowing smile. “I’m not going to undress.” Enid protested, as she found herself being led into the luxurious bedroom. “But do get into something loose, so that you can lie down and be comfortable,” the maid coaxed. “You must try to fix your mind on something pleasant. Sir Lionel will be here any moment, likely ” “Oh, go away! Y’ou don't know what I’m thinking about—nobody knows. Oh, God, nobody knows!” Orpen drew back, scandalised rather than frightened. Never before had Enid spoken to her like that. She slipped out of the room but remained within call. Enid paced to and fro, keeping company with herself in the long mirrors. How could anybody know the root cause of her agitation? She was ashamed to confess even to herself that it was not anxiety for any accident which might have happened to Hurst—he was not the sort of man who had accidents, anyway—but an almost insane dread of his return. She had done her best to banish all thought of’David, but Curtis’s story had forced her to think of him, and it was like the ache of a wound that would never heal. What a pity not. to be able to find relief in tears. Midnight. The air was clear and fresh now, all the storm and sultry heat washed out of it. A little breeze sprang up. The flat was a blaze of light from end to end and none of the servants had gone to bed. James, the butler, was sitting in the hall trying to fix his attention on an evening newspaper. He had substituted his dress coP-t for a morning one. Enid had gone back to the drawingroom. She was a great deal calmer now. The certitude that something out of the ordinary had happened had a bracing effect on her. She deplored lior mood of cowardice. Orpen brought her a cup of strong tea, and she drank it without protest. It was Orpen who now needed reassuring. “It can’t be very much longer,” Enid told the tired girl. “Mr. Curtis is sure to bring us news of some sort. Sir Lionel may have been called out of town suddenly.” "But. my lady, he would have telegraphed.” “You can’t have forgotten the storm so soon. The wires may be dowji. There are any amount of reasons why we haven’t heard.” And then the summons they were all waiting for pealed through the flat. James was at the door directly. Indeed, he was opening it as the bell rang. Enid came out of the drawing-room with Orpen, just as Curtis, followed by a sergeant of police entered the hail. The secretary’s face was a greywliite. He looked like an old man. “Lady Hurst —just a momeut!” He put himself between her and the police officer, as though to hide the la.tter from her sight—a futile effort. “Yes—will you come into the drawing-room?” Enid said, breathlessly. “Please don’t think I’m going to faint or—or do anything stupid. . Now, tell me, please.” “There was an accident,” the secre tai-y began, his features working pain fully. “You know we thought there might have been— ” “Yes, yes! You are trying to tell me that he is dead.” She felt a little impatient with the grey-faced, old-young man. “Yes, he is dead,” Curtis said in a half-whisper. (To be Continued Tomorrow.)