"ANN STEPS OUT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 15 December 1938, Page 14

"ANN STEPS OUT"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

By

CHAPTER XV. Twilight was descending. At last they reached the bay and walked along the water’s edge. The sand clung stubbornly to their feet. “Let your hair blow,” said Nick, pausing. "I like to see the wind in a woman’s hair.”

Ann looked up at his tall figure beside her—his broad shoulders, his brown 6yes set ahead. “In summer,” she said, “this is probably a very gay place. Lots of people coming and going in bathing suits. Children running around.” “It is a gay place.” Sudden they stopped still, two figures in the gathering dust, and Nick looked down on her. Her hair was blowing and the wind had whipped colour in her cheeks.

MARGARET GORMAN NICHOLS.

“John is coming tomorrow,” he said. “I think he is going to ask you soon.” She laughed. “Because you told him what to say?” “That’s not kind of you. Do you or do you not want to marry him?”

“If I do, I shall tell him exactly how I feel beforehand. I like him so much. He’s been so wonderful to me. But I shall tell him I don’t love him.” When they walked back to the house it was quite dark. Nick held her cold hand in his. Dinner was ready and the guests were clamouring for their host.

On Sunday John arrived. When he opened the door and walked into the living room, he saw Ann first, sitting on the divan with her feet tucked up under her like a child. “Hello,” she said, “I’m glad to see you.” "I chucked everything to come.”

“Even business?” asked Nick. “Yes. I always avoid Nick’s parties,” he said, turning to Ann, “because I think I’m a misfit. But I always have a good time.” Nick avoided her after that. He attached himself to Ruth Ashton. Ann knew that he was leaving her to John. When she went to her room that night to dress for dinner, Ruth came in. “I want to make myself perfectly clear.” said Ruth. “I’m no.t blind. I can see things. Both the Hamills are in love with you and Nick, ever the gallant gentleman, is stepping aside for his brother.”

“I don’t believe Nick is in love with me.” '

“John is. I’m sure of that.” She came over to Ann and said kindly, “I know how it is. He isn’t amusing or exciting, but he’s genuine. Men of his type love one woman all their lives. And that’s a lot. Sometimes, you know, loves comes after marriage.” “You’re trying to tell me . .” • “Do marry him,” said Ruth. “You’ll never regret it. He’s one of the finest men in the world. A lot of women would have liked to marry John Hamill but he never gave them the chance.” The guests were going back to town that night. Ann hated to see the time come to go. It had been such a happy change from her routine of her life — from home to office and back again. She went out on the porch to get one last glimpse of the island from the high terrace. Nick was beside her. “I’m not going back to town tonight,” he said. "Do you mind if John drives you home—or rather, his chauffeur?”

“I don't mind,” and smiled at him. “You are a matchmaker, aren’t you?” At ten o’clock everyone was ready to go. There were gay “good-byes,” and “we’ll be seeing you, Nick,”, and “had a swell time.” From John’s car Ann saw Nick standing on the high slope, smoking his pipe. She waved and he smiled at her.

They talked trivialities going back. Jean had been in the office and was starting to work the next day. John couldn’t bring himself to speak his feelings, and Ann felt curiously ill at ease. John lingered a moment in front of the Dryden home while the chauffeur took her bag to the vestibule. “Good flight, Ann. Tomorrow it will be Miss Dryden.” “Good night. John,” she said, “who tomorrow will be Mr Hamill.”

She slipped her hands in his. John went away thinking of the way the street lamp brought out the shining lights of her hair.

When she went into the house, she saw a light in the dining room. Since Ann and Jean had been old enough to have “dates,” the two older people had taken to the dining room at night to read the paper and talk. Ann put down her bag< near the stairs and went in.

She had never seen her father look so pale and ill. Mrs Dryden looked as thought she had been crying. “Is anything wrong?” she asked, advancing toward them. Mrs Dryden looked up wearily. “Your father,” she said, "lost his job on Saturday." "Lest! After all these years. Why "Cutting down," said her father, "and looking for new blood. New machines has done away with the old bookkeepers . . ." "But you're nearly ready to be pensioned,” she cried. "The efficiency expert . . .” All the gaiety of the weekend vanished. She stood there looking from one to the other piteously. They looked beaten and old and finished. "It's 'up to me now,” she thought, “more than ever. If only they wouldn’t look that, way! It hurts so!"

She went Io her father, and put her arms around him. “Don't take it like that. You're not finished. You need a long rest anyway. And in the meantime you can depend on Jean and me. Come on and go to bed. Don’t lose any sleep about this. It will work out.”

She followed them up the steps not daring to let them suspect how miserable she felt. After all those faithful years to let him go like that! She didn’t put on a light in her room. She took off her hat and coat and went to the window and looked out. She was thinking of Nick’s tall figure and the way Doug used to smile. Doug . . .” I’ll marry John when he asks me,” she said half aloud. "But I will tell him first. I need him and he needs me. 1 need him more than ever now.” At the office the next day John, who had an uncanny knowledge of peoples’ minds, said. “You don’t seem very happy today, Ann.” She smiled gravely. “You know a great deal about me, don’t you? Nick calls himself a bad penny. I’m the bad penny in your life. One thing happens after another.” “What is it this time?”

“I shouldn’t tell you because youpl

| want to do something about it, and you’ve already done too much.” “There is a missionary streak in rue.’ he said. "Tell me."

She put down her pencil and folded her hands. His eyes, brown yes, like Nick's,,but not so gay, were set full upon her. “My, father lost his job on Saturday. He was nearly ready to be pensioned. All his life he’s looked forward to that. He was tired and he thought it would bo a time to rest. He’s been so faithful. 'Never late and absent only a few times, when he was ill." John covered her hands with his. •Poor child. This makes it hard for you, doesn’t it? 1 know what it is. Men outlive their usefulness and they are let out. But honourable firms don’t do that. I don’t suppose he had very much saved?”

"Practically nothing,” she said hopelessly. "He didn't make much, and it took everything to keep the home together even with my help.” He sat back in his chair. “I am going to do something, but we can't talk about it now. I’ve a man outside waiting to sec me by appointment. But if you’ll come to my home for dinner tonight, we can talk it over then.” She got up. “I'll gladly come.” He watched her go out, and a pleased smile crossed his kind face. He would ask her tonight! Ann —his wife! Her loveliness, her sweetness, gracing his home, waiting to meet him—always there. It was the longest day he ever lived., At five o’clock he waited for every one to leave and then joined her at the elevator.

Wang’s broad smile greeted them at the door of the white house. “Glad to see you, Miss," said Wang. “I’ll bet Wang’s been cooking all day to please you,” said John. “Yes, yes, cook all day. Nico eats." “That’s a good boy,” said John. "You may have the night off.” At eight o’clock Wang departed for the movies feeling that his cooking was incomparable.

At eight o’clock Ann was sitting on the divan before a cracking fire with John. Only one light burned in the room.

She was trying to collect her thoughts, but through them, like pictures that refused to be forgotten, were the figures of Nick and Doug. Doug's was blurred a little from the unhappiness he had brought her. But Nick . . . standing on the slope alone, smoking his pipe, smiling at her. Nick . . . walking beside her on the beach at dusk, his hair blowing, his dark eyes intently looking ahead ... “Ann,” John moved nearer, but he did not touch her, “I’m not good at pretty speeches. I’m a clumsy-fellow and a business man. I’ve never been in love before with any woman in my life. But,” lowering his voice, looking into her face, “I am in love with you. I want you to marry me.”

Were there tears, he thought, lingering on her lashes?

“You are the kindest person in the world,” she said, in all sincerity. “I can’t tell you I’ll marry you until things are straight between us. I want you to know ...”

“I do know. You are not, in love with me and you're too honest to tell me you are. I know you don’t love me, but I’m willing. I want to marry you in spite of that. I want to take you . . . knowing that.”

“How can you want to marry me—knowing that?” (To be Continued.)