"ANN STEPS OUT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 8 December 1938, Page 12

"ANN STEPS OUT"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

MARGARET GORMAN NICHOLS.

CHAPTER VII. John Hamill ate his dinner slowly that evening and called himself to task for not questioning Ann. If it were money, why didn’t she turn to him! Money was usually the cause of so great a sadness with a girl.

He was smoking his pipe when Nick swept into the room. The brothers shook hands warmly, and Nick deposited his bag and overcoat and proceeded to help himself to the remains of John’s dinner.

“Thought I’d find you dining,” said Nick. “And that appetite of mine made me forget to ask how you felt! Harriman called me and scared me to death. Why didn’t you select a more optimistic partner in business?” „ “It’s my heart thumping away again, said John. “Harriman hates me to be ill, because he really doesn’t know anything about the business.” Nick looked up from his plate. “How is Ann?” he asked. “She left not long ago. Shes been coming here—yesterday and today.” He knocked the tobacco from his pipe nervously. “I want to talk to you about her.” “About Ann?”

“Yes.” Nick laughed. "That’s why I came back suddenly to talk about Ann to Ann.” , They looked at each other and then John looked away. “She was different today. Yesterday we were like old friends.” “There was a reason today. Don t you ever read the papers?” “Why . . . what’s . . .” “There is an announcement of an engagement, in last night’s paper of Gail Tracy and Douglas St John. Ann was engaged to Doug for years. Been in love with him all her life. One of those unfortunate things when one goes higher socially than the other. I came' back,” said Nick, “before I expected because I knew the poor child was in for a terrible blow.” “I see. How stupid of me not to suspect a man. 1 thought the girl wanted a new dress or something equally flippant.” “You don’t know Ann Dryden, said Nick. John shook his head and waited for Wang to go out of the dining room be-

for he spoke. “This girl has started me thinking, said John. “There is nothing startling or exciting about her except her beauty. But she is a very real person. She’s the sort of girl who’d make a man a very good wife. That’s what I’ve been thinking, Nick, that Ann would make me a very good wife.” "You haven’t known her very long.” “With a girl of her type,” said John, “you’ve only to see her to know how fine she is.” Nick lit his cigarette and leaned back comfortably in his chair. An odd smile twisted his mouth. He, Nick, had gone away and during his absence the person he least suspected had become interested in Ann. John, who had never looked twice at a woman, was in love with her. What was there for him to do? Step by gallantly and let his brother have his chance?

“I’m going back to New York tomorrow,” said Nick. “Telephone for you, Ann,” Mrs Dryden said. “This is Nick,” said the friendly voice. “I just got back in town tonight, and I’m leaving tomorrow. I know it’s very late, but I’d like to see you before I leave.” “Is urgent business taking you back so soon?” “Well—l came to see John when I heard he was ill. The New York business is still —unfinished.” “Of course I’ll see you,” said Ann. “It’s ten o’clock. Will you come here?” “I’d rather that you came with me. We can take a ride and stop some place for something to eat. I’ll call for you in fifteen minutes.”

When she replaced the telephone Jean said. “Only Nick Hamill can make you blush like that. When did he get back?”

“Tonight. We’re going for a ride.” “You don’t have to go out,” said Jean. "Dick isn’t coming tonight, and clutter up the living room. That—that is finished.”

“You finished it, didn’t you?” “Jean lowered her head. “Yes.” “Poor Jean. You think you are so right, and you are so wrong. You use me as ah example, because you think I played the fool for so long.” “I don’t want to hear any more about it,” said Jean. “It’s finished. It was sweet, but it was silly. You’d better hurry before Nick comes.” When Ann reached the door of the room, Jean asked, “Will you be late?” “Probably. The evening doesn’t start for him until eleven.”

She went upstairs and carelessly ran a comb through her curls. Suddenly she looked at herself gravely in the mirrow. “When a girl feels this way about seeing a man,” she thought, "she's in love with him. Am I in love with Nick Hamill or am I afraid, since Doug, to let myself be in love with anyone?”

She answered the bell when he rang. Nick took her gloved hands and held them tightly. Why was it, he thought, that this girl, met by chance when she needed him, was not for him? He had thought that with Doug out of the way it would be easy for him. But there was John . . . serious about a woman for the first time . . . "A roadster is rather draughty this time of the year,” he said. “I brought along a robe for you.” Before long the giant motor was humming on open country road. The lights of the city were behind them. “Why is it,” she asked, ‘’that a drive in the country makes you forget all the cluttering thoughts that try to make you unhappy?” “Have you been unhappy?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. She turned and looked at him. “Doug and Gail. Didn’t you know?” “Yes, I heard. And I thought of you.” She fell silent again. “I could go on riding forever,” she thought, “beside this man. When I can look up and see him beside me, I feel that everything is—all right.” “Where are we?” she asked. “Near Gibson Island. I have a house there.” "I’ve often heard of Gibson Island. It’s a sort of Maryland Newport, isn’t it?” They rode for a few minutes longer and crossed a narrow bridge. The Chesapeake Bay lay at the left of them, and the waves angrily beat against the

shore. The large white club house was deserted. Ann could visualize it in summer alive with young couples moving to and fro on the wide verandah. Before a grey stone house he stopped the car. "You’d better'wait here until I make a fire,” he said. "Might be some smoke. And don’t let the white coverings on the furniture frighten you.” He went into the house and returned after a while. "No smoke at all,’ he smiled. "Come in and get warm.” He disappeared from the spacious living room into the kitchen and relumed after several minutes with two cups of hot chocolate. "I appreciate your willingness to come here,” he said-seriously, “after what Doug told you about me. I brought you here with very serious and honourable intenions. ‘l’m going away again, and I wanted to tell you that if you ever need anyone . . . John . . .” “Oh, I see. You want John to be my guardian in your absence?” “No. John’s in love with you.” “Oh,” and the expression of her face changed. “You’re paving the way for him because he’s shy. Can’t he tell me himself? Why—why is he . . .” “Why is he in Jove with you?” he laughed curtly. “Dear child, I don’t know the answer to that. Why do women love the wrong men. and pass up the right ones? There is no answer to that.”

“John is in love with me,” murmured Ann, “but I’m not in love with him.” "Not the way you were with Doug. I know that.”

“But that’s the way to be in love, Nick. That’s the only way.” He leaned over and put another log on the fire

“I’ve done lots of queer things in my life,” he said with a faint ironical smile, "but I never thought I’d have to make love to a’ woman for another man —for my brother.” He sat upright and looked at her face in the half light. Their eyes met—not candidly this time for there was much they were concealing. Ann’s red lips were parted and one soft curl had strayed across her forehead. Nick touched her warm hand and leaned closer until their faces almost touched. “After what happened between you and Doug, a man must kiss you into believing him. John can’t do that, Ann. But you must believe him.” She lifted her hand and stroked his hair.

“You could,” she said deeply. “You could kiss me into believing, Nick.” She felt his arms go around her and the firm pressure of his mouth on hers. When he took his lips away, he smiled and said, “That was John’s kiss. Remember it.”

She got up and walked away from him. She wondered if her voice sounded as light as she tried to make it. “I can never forget,” she said, “that it was you.” She picked up her hat and crushed it over her hair. “Let’s go now.”

In the hall of her home, he said, “I give my responsibility to John temporarily. He is really better fitted to be a guardian.” “I don’t think so,” she laughed. “He hasn’t had your wide experience." She give him her hand. “Good-bye, Nick. Come back soon.”

When she turned off the light over her bed, she lay wide-eyed in the darkness. They had been so gay, she and Nick, but inside they had not been gay. For the first time they had pretended. Every worry, every care of her life was obliterated by the memory of his closeness, and the memory of a kiss lightly given. The next morning she was awakened out of a sound sleep by the piercing cry of her mother who rushed into her room. “Jean. . cried Mrs. Dryden, waving a scrap of white paper in her hand. “Jean is gone!”

Ann sat up in bed. “Let me see it.” She took the paper and read: “Dear Mother, I’m going away because I can’t bear it here any longer. I'm taking 50 dollars of Ann’s money. I’ll pay it back as soon as I get a job. Don’t worry about me. I got the name and address of a stage manager and I think I can get in a chorus. I’ll send my address when I'm located. Don’t try to find me. —Jean.” Ann lifted her eyes from the note as her father entered the room. “What’s the rumpus?”, he asked. He was just in time to catch Mrs. Dryden as she fainted. CHAPTER VIII.

Ann sat there a long time with Jean’s note in her hand. Her mother sat in the boudoir chair and her father hovered over her. Ann thought they looked terribly pathetic and helpless. ' “But we’ve got to do something to get her back,” said her father, stroking her mother’s plump shoulder. "She’s only a child —a headstrong child.” "I will do something when I can,” said Ann, cold from the chilly room and cold from the shock of this thing. "But what can I do? I don’t know which way to turn.” "I don’t want anyone to know,” said Mrs. Dryden. “What would people say?” Ann got out of bed. wrapped a woollen robe around her, and went to her mother. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her back. But how, she wondered, would they ever locate Jean?

"Gp downstairs,” she said, "and get Father and me some breakfast. It's late now."

When they went out, she read Jean's letter again and frowned, “How am I going to find her?” she thought. “They believe in me. When I’ve said I’d do something, I’ve always done it.” When she went downstairs half an hour later, her father had gone. Mrs Dryden, sitting at the table, wiped the corner of her eyes with her kitchen apron. (To be Continued.)