"ANN STEPS OUT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 20 December 1938, Page 16

"ANN STEPS OUT"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

MARGARET GORMAN NICHOLS.

CHAPTER XX. Nick, returning to his Gibson Island house after his lonely walk, heard the ringing of the telephone. He went to it and when he heard the strange excited voice tell him what had happened, he caught hold of the table to support himself. , , "I’ll come at once,” he said, “by plane.” He called the Dryden home and Mr Dryden’s sleepy voice answered. Nick told him. “I can’t tell you anything else because that’s all I know,” he said crisply. “I’m going to Baltimore as fast as my car will carry me and get a plane.” Mr Dryden was too shocked to speak. Hatless, Nick left the house and got into his car. It seemed that he was moving at a snail’s pace. He found Ann at a New Jersey mortuary several house later sitting still as stone, her face white, surrounded by sympathetic strangers. There had been, even about the newspaper men, a quiet, restrained sympathy. When she saw Nick, she didn’t move. She just looked at him, her eyes filling, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Nick,” she cried, and he put his arms around her and held her close while she cried. She was back at the house on North avenue again. The funeral was over. Telegrams, letters were still pouring in. She stayed in her room alone, trying to reason with herself, wondering how she could take up her life again. A letter from Mrs Hamill asked to come to see her. “I wouldn’t go,” her mother said. “She Qnly wants to insult you again.” “I must go,” said Ann. “It’s only right that I should.”. “Why don’t you ask Nick about it?” Nick—Nick had been so wonderful, had attended to everything, had spared her so many of the trying things that had to be done. “He wouldn’t want me to go,” she said, “but I feel that I should.” She got-up, dressed in the dark suit, and called a cab. She had to summon all the courage she had to ring the bell at the Hamill home. The butler admitted her and led the way to the drawing-room. There was no indication on Mr Hamill’s face that she had recently experienced the tragedy of losing her son. She looked quite the same to Ann. “Sit down,” she said. She folded her hands sedately on her lap. “I know this has been a great shock to you. I didn’t attend the funeral because my physician forbade it. Believe me when; I say I am sorry for you.” Ann held back tears very near the surface. “It was horrible.” “I know, but now,” she lifted her imperious head, “there is nothing that can be done. You bear the name of Hamill but that—this is your only connection with this family. I suppose,” she said, “that you will go back to work again.” ' “I must.” “You know, of course, that John’s will left everything to me.” ' , Ann arose to go. She must get out of this house, away from this woman! “Good-bye,” said Mrs Hamill. “I don’t suppose I shall ever see you again, I hope you won’t forget that your name is Hamill —I hope you’ll do nothing to disgrace it.” Ann got up and went to the door. She met Nick rushing up the steps. “Thank God I found you!” he cried. “Your mother told me you were here. Why did you come, Ann, and not tell me”

They went into the drawing-room. Mrs Hamill looked up. “I don’t know what you’ve been telling Ann,” he said. “You’ve probably tried to hurt her —as if she hasn’t been hurt enough. She’s been through enough to kill her!” “I’ve only been telling her,” said his mother, “that her connection with this family is severed. I made it clear to her that John left me his money, and that she couldn’t come to me when she needed money. Nick shook his head and smiled. “Really—you think John left you his money!” He turned to Ann. “I’m sorry that I haven’t told you. I’ve been so busy. So many things had to be straightened out ..” He turned to his mother. “I mean to say that John left Ann his money—every cent of it, arid an interest in the business. He made an entirely new will.” Mrs Hamill turned to Ann. “No use to say anything,” said Nick. “She didn’t know.” He took Ann’s hand and led her out of the house. In the car she said, unable to believe it, “John left everything to me!” “Yes. I should have told you.” He took her hands. “Deal' Ann, you won’t have to worry about money now. There is something else I haven’t told you. too. It was a secret between John and me. He knew that he couldn’t live long. He wanted to marry you —have a little happiness. He wanted to leave you everything.” “He had his happiness such a little while.” Nick started the car and they drove in the country. “Fknow it has been a horrible thing,” he said, “but you'll have to take up your life again. He wanted you to—to carry on.” “All my dreams,” said Ann, "ended in a moment. It is like a nightmare. Yes, I know I must carry on.” “You're a very rich girl.” "I don’t know what to do with a lot of money. You’ll look out for it for me, Nick?” “Of course. I’ve made a decision, too. Things like this bring people down to earth. I’ve had a law practice that I haven’t paid much attention to. Now —l’m going into the agency in John’s place.” “I’m glad,” said Ann.

“We’ll move in as soon as we can,’ said Ann. "No sense in staying here.’

He turned to her. "The house in Guildford is yours. Wang is still there Why don’t you move there? There's no reason why you shouldn’t. John’s town car and the chauffeur are there, too. And your new roadster is in the garage.” He stopped the car a moment under a large shady tree. “You’ve got to be happy,” he said. “John knew it would be this way. He planned everything. You’ve got to take up your life again, Ann. You’re young and rich and beautiful. You’ve got the world before you.” They drove to Ann’s home and Nick told them the news. Somehow it didn’t gladden them, knowing what they had lost.

She looked at him, liking the <way he looked in his tweed trousers and blue sweater, his collar open at the neck, smoking his pipe. “Perhaps you’re right. Will you take me?"

(To be Continued.)

There was a letter from Doug several days later. He wrote: “I’m sorry for your loss, Ann. It must have been a fearful blow. Gail and I are returning in a month, and I'm coming to see you. I suppose you’ll be living in the Guilford home.”

“Everyone knew,” Ann told Jean, “that John couldn’t live. Everyone—but me. If I had known, I should have married him the night he asked me.” “It was the shock—the excitement.” “He know all the time—all the time we were planning.” “Nick is taking John’s place. He is giving father a place at the agency.”

“I told father he didn’t have to work, but he insists on it. When everything is settled, I’m going to send him and mother away on a trip.” The next day a roadster stopped befor the house and a stunningly dressed girl got out and rang the bell. “I’m Betty Reynolds,” she said and Ann led the way to the living room. She remembered her—the same girl who had given the New Year’s Eve party the night Doug deserted her for Gail. Betty was a distant cousin of Nick’s. “I’ve meant to call on you for some time,” said Betty, “but you know how it is—one thing after another. I’m in a frightful hurry now to get to a bridge party.” She smiled warmly at Ann. “But I wanted to tell you that we’ll be neighbours when you move and I want you to stop in often to see me.” “Thank you,” said Ann. “I’m giving a party next month,” said Betty, “and if you’re going out by that time, I wish you’d come.” “I doubt that I’ll be in a party mood by then.” “I know—but if you change your mind, let me know.” Ann watched the roadster drive away. “I’m Ann Hamill now. People want me. I’m accepted.” A week later the Drydens moved to the Guilford home. Wang greeted them. He had prepared a feast in honour of their coming. Ann went to her bedroom that night. She had selected the furnishings with such care —maple furniture, chintz .draperies, an old desk, hooked rugs, She went to bed and lay wide-eyed in the moonlight—but she could not sleep. CHAPTER XXI. A month passed and the Drydens adjusted themselves gradually to their new surroundings. Nick had taught Ann to drive the black and chromium roadster. Mrs Dryden used the town car and chauffeur. Susan, a maid, was employed. Gradually Ann's sorrow lessened. The beauty of her home, seeing her people happy, her mother relieved ol worry and housework, and to drive along the open country roads in her own car —all this helped to relieve the burden of her loss. It was May now. She was driving down to Gibson Island one Saturday afternoon dressed in a gray outfit. Nick objected to black. “Don’t wear it It's hideous.” She crossed the bridge that led to the island, waved at the gateman and drove to Nick’s house. He came out to meet her, thinking how lovely she looked in the grey dress and felt hat. “Surprise,” she said. “I never realised what fun it is to drive a car.” He opened the door and they went into the house. “How do you like the agency” she asked, taking off her hat. “It’s fine. I’m getting to be a hardboiled business man. I was afraid that my employees wouldn’t like me but I’m getting along all right. And now everything is running smoothly.” “How is Father making out and — Jean?” “Well,” he drawled, and smiled at her, “Jean is the office vamp, I’m afraid. Men coming in to see me turn around twice to look at her. Your father is doing very well. Slow but thorough.” “John,” 7 she always said his name softly—it still hurt to say it, “mentioned something about taking Dick Nelson in, too.” “Don’t you think,” he asked, “that too much family is bad for business? You have a share in it, too, you know. I thought about Dick and I called up a friend of mine who is going to take him. He’ll have an excellent opportunity there—before he and Jean decide to marry and settle down.” They went out on the verandah and he came up to her and put his arms around her..

“Happy?” he asked. “You must be happy.” “In a way, yes. I like to see my mother dressed and having an upstairs sitting room of her own, her hair waved, nails manicured, going out in the car with the chauffeur. I like to see father looking so well, and Jean settled. I like living in a beautiful big house, wearing beautiful clothes, and driving my own car. But they are material things, Nick. I miss something I want so much.” “Love.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes. ” She looked down at her wedding ring. “Love. I didn’t love John the way I loved Doug, but I loved him in d different way. I stopped loving Doug and started loving John. Now—with both gone, I feel empty and lonely . . .” He changed the conversation at once. He couldn’t bear to see her lonely. Would he ever tell her that he loved her? Did he dare? "We’ll be swimming soon down here,” he said. “I’ve given up the town apartment. I drive to the office every morning.” “I told you that Betty came to see me, didn’t I? She is giving a party on Saturday night at Five Farms Club, and wants me to come. But I’m not going to. I don’t want to go to a party—yet.” “Why not?” “Oh, I don’t like people pointing at me, looking at me, talking about me. I don’t feel' I ought to go to a party right away.” “That’s an old-fashioned idea,” said Nick, smoking his pipe. “People go out these days. They’re brave and gallant. You’ve got to start sometime. Why not now?”