JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17971, 17 March 1930, Page 4

JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

CHAPTER lll.—(Continued.) Was she in love? She would much rather not have been! She was an«rv wth Michael, as he with her y e ? if he had come up to the studio that afternoon and taken her in his arms, asking her, in that impetuous way of us to forgive him the love she withhold, she would have yielded. It was she felt a good tiling he did moit come, though she thrilled at every knock- Her father had taken a chill on 'the previous day. Row absurd it was -to catch cold on such a summers daj 1 But sh-e was glad of the excuse 'to fuss after him, hinting thait she should send for a doctor if he wero no better next day. “ I had expected Grefton in," he said regretfully, “hut I suppose the boy is too busy with all his work to see to.” Joan frowned. “ Michael is not a boy at all,” she said. “If he is not a man now r he never will be.” She felt Michael had failed yesterday and to-day to play the man. She hoped he would give her the opportunity of telling him so. And next day a ’phone message came through from Lesterlees asking for a morning appointment, suggesting the trip to Berkshire in the afternoon. Hardale was pleased. “ The heat is fagging me,” he complained. “ Tlie motor run will do me ail the good 'in the world- I felt a different man after our Sunday’s trip." So Lesterlees came in 'the morning and Hardale asked his daughter to remain in ttie studio to mix his paints. It was not a usual request—and an inconvenient one, as Nannie had a touch of lumbago. Yet Joan did not demur. Her father did not look well, and she was more anxious for him to see a doctor. To-morrow, perhaps he would do so. She was thinking so much about Dad and his pale looks that, siie hardly noticed Lesterlees after the first greeting. He had not brought her flowers to-day—he would be giving her those this afternoon. He was discussing the best motor route with her father during an interlude in the sitting, when Hardale gave a quick gasp of pain and fell to the floor. He was quite unconscious and his face was grey. Joan, very white and frightened, but not losing her presence of mind, ran lo him, unfastening his collar and chafing his hands, whilst Lesterlees, with equal promptitude, 'threw open the window and called down the stairs to Nannie. The doctor was sent for, and as soon as Ilardalo rallied the was got to bed. Lesterlecs remained to do all he could to help, following Joan back into the studio when the doctor had gone- “ You have my telephone number,” be said quietly, “ my car is at your disposal at any hour if you want the doctor sent for —or for any other purpose- Sudden illness is always alarming. I hope, Miss Hardale, you will look on me as a friend who would only too gladly be of assistance. She looked at him, her eyes haunted by a secret dread. “Do you think the doctor was alarmed?” she asked, “do you think Dad is . . . seriously all?" Lesterlees hesitated. “ He will have to go slow,” he replied, “he Is evidently very run down, and a heart is a bad 'thing to get out of order. But you must not worry. If I may I will call to-morrow to enquire.” “ You are very good,” said Joan. “ What should I have done without you ?" There was real gratitude in her tones, she 'looked up into 'the stern, square-jawed face of this comparative stranger and wondered how she could have called its owner a mere moneymaking machine. He was very human . . • and she was ashamed of her judgment. He seamed pleased at her words, though his reply was formal, and he left soon after. Joan went hack to the sick roomSuddenly, all the cul.rn current, of'life's stream seemed disturbed- Storm had struck her barque and she was looking out over the confusion of waters. Dad must not be ill . . . -he must rest . . . and get. strong. She was ready to do anything to save him from anxiety and worry. With her hands round tier knees she sat brooding over-the problem, and was startled when she heard her name spoken. Hardale was looking at his daughter with wistful eyes. " I must get up, Joan," he urged, “ there are several jobs beside Lesterlccs’ portrait that I must see to. Tilts morning—Caesar’s ghost! how' confused one gets as to time—l had Hal-ton’s bill in again. A real shocker It was—an account -rendered. I’ve let. several accounts run on, careless beggar that I am!—and till I get, Lesterlees’ cheque I shall be in queer street. Don’t have the doctor in again, I’ll be right as a doctor’s fees somehow' bother me. Such waste. Cheerio, Joan girl. Don’t you worry. I shall get up—presently.” Yet. already the bluish tinge was creeping round his lips again. Joan could have wrung her hands 'in mental anguish, hut she was brave in playing her part. “ All right, -Daddy Dear,” she replied, “ but there’s the hell. Dr. Heath promised to come early, and you musl- —obey." The door opened as she spoke, the doctor was here. . Joan went out into the next, roomShe was afraid, horribly afraid, it seemed such a long time lo wait, 100, yet within ten minutes the doctor had rejoined her. lie looked very grave. “I have had a straight talk with your father, Miss Hardale,” lie said, “ it is better for him to know something of the truth. One cannot play about witli valvular disease of the heart. And in addition Mr Hardale is in a low state of health owing to worry and strain. Tic can never he a whole man again, but with utmost care, rest, and freedom from anxiety, h 0 m ay live for months, even years. I have put him on his guard. Now, Hie best thing in the world would he to get him right out of London into some quiet country spot where he can -paint a little and rest a great deal.” He held out his hand, with a brief word of farewell—and regret, then hurried off to race time on a round considerably longer than lie could copo with. Joan did not immediately return to the sick room- She wanted to rally her se'lf-control. She had lighting blood in her —and this was a grim hour of battleHardale greeted his daughter with a smile—oh, y»fs! lie lias been lighting too, and that smile was the outcome of it. Joan fell, a lump come in her throat. She had resolved to show so bravo a front, and was nearly worsted at liio first onslaught. “ Well, Joan,” said her father, “I’ve got my orders. Rather Impossible ones, eh? Never mind I No doctor expects to bo taken vcrbalcm. I II rest, to-day and get Lesterlees lo come in to-morrow for a sitting, llien l 11 ask—if I can screw my pluck to slicking point —for the necessary cheque, and build up this old ticker of mine

By MAY WYNNE.

with chemist’s nostrums till the portrait is finished. Then we can afford a jolly good holiday.” She hent to ldss him. “ That’s l.hq way, Dad," she answered; “we are going to face the hill of difficulty arm in arm. You pull and I puil—always . . . always together." She dared not look at him as she fiercely spoke these last words. She would not face the possibility of life without him. The coming of Lesterlees was a relief. Stie would ask him to do as Dad suggested. After all they could not live without money. She was sure Lesterlees would understand. lie was waiting in the studio, looking at a sketch her father had made of her last year during a Cornish holiday; a vivid sketch taken on a purple moorland beside a stream. He laid it aside and came to where she stood hesitating as to how to begin her speech. "I have seen Heath,” he 'said, “and he has told me exactly how things stand, and I have asked his advice as to a suggestion I wanted to make. As you know, I am very keen to get that" portrait of' mine finished, but I do not want to remain in London during the fog days. Will you and your father come down with me to Rawton CourL and remain there for a few weeks? Mr Hardale can complete the picture at his leisure and his own time. The change will do him good, and I will do my best to make your stay enjoyable. My housekeeper will arrange for you to have your own suite of rooms if you prefer.” .loan could hardly believe her ears. At a stroke all those tragic difficulties were overcome. Tears filled her eyes, and Lesterlees, seeing her emotion, went on in business-like tones. “Your father will want to settle up outstanding bills,” he said, "and knowing how’ trying times are for those in his profession, I have brought my cheque for the portrait. Perhaps you will explain; it is better for me not to w'orry him with a visit. May I look on the matter as settled? If so, the car will be round at ten o’clock to-morrow morning.” He moved towards the door, but Joan checked him. “I am 'saying yes,” she w’hispered, “but it seems such a little, expressionless word. This money—oh! it is twice too much, but how- thankful I am to have it —for Dad’s sake. Every cloud seems rolling hack, and here I am unable lo speak my gratitude. How can we repay?” “That is a word,” said Lesterlees, “I do not want ever to hear- kray I in my turn add that 1 am glad to be able lo help so brave a pair. lam more than repaid. Miss Mardale, if you will call me your friend —and not look upon me as—a merely useful millionaire. There was a new’, vibrant note in .his steady tone- A not Joan heard, and her heart grew faint. Anthony Lesterees would not ask for payment. . . . but the foreboding filled her that one day he would make his claim. And she knew she would ha\e nothing to give. (To he continued.)