JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17972, 18 March 1930, Page 4

JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

CHAPTER IV. “You knew I was leaving on Fritlday,” said Grefton bitterly, ‘-and yet you tell me this Is good-bye. Thai you are going to Berkshire To-mor-row.” Joan stood, straight and still, her chin raised and her eyes bright. She was meeting difficulties where she had expected understanding, and in her youthful vexation she did not choose to explain too fully.

“Yes,” she replied, “we are starting at ten o’clock to-morrow in Mr Lesterlecs’ Rolls Boyce car. He is motoring us to his place in Berkshire- Really, the skies seem to have been raining Cinderella’s fairy godmothers. Don’t he greedy, Michael, you have had your share. Don’t grudge us ours.” Grefton paced up and down the room, moody and resentful. “I suppose you expect congratulations,” he retorted, “hut you won’t get them. Any one can see what it means. Lesterlees can buy what he wants. ■One generally can in these days if one bids high enough.” Joan knew what he meant and her odour flamed. After all, she would not find it so very hard to bid farewell to Ihis unjust .judge who condemned without knowing the facts of the case. She had dreaded, this goodbye, afraid to reveal her heart to an impatient lover. Now, she was more sure of herself. “Perhaps it would be better not to discuss our visit to a friend who has proved his friendship,” she, replied. “I must be off upstairs again, Michael, as Dad’s supper is ready. I 4o hope you will have what . . . what we all wished for you the other day—your heart’s desire.” He looked at her and his lips twitched. Here was a second crisis. Unthinkingly Joan had given him another chance, and he took it, using his own view-point. “That means you,” he said in low tones. “You are my heart’s desire. You and you alone. If you had known love as I know it you would be coming willi me on Friday to —Arcadia." She shook her head, though she had naied 100.

“Oh, no, Michael,” she pleaded, “you are wrong. You are mistaken. Love’s highest is sacrifice. You can see for yourself hom impossible it would be io leave Dad.” ITe shrugged, ids shoulders. “Oh, now, admitted!” lie agreed, “but Mr Hardale will soon be better, and Nannie could lie trusted to look after him anywhere. Joan squared tier shoulders. ”1 prefer to look after him myself,” si in said briefly. Michael was slill sullen.

“With 11 ie. help of a millionaire adorer,” lie hinted, then, seeing the sparkle of angry tears in her eyes, lie apologised. “I’m a bear,” be declared, “and my mood is an ugly one. But Joan is slill our Joan of tlie Great 'Heart, and so she will forgive. Won’t you give me one bit of comfort lo take with me lo Italy, Queen? Won’t you say, 'I love you Michael?’ That will be all the help in I lie world. I shall quote over the words ‘adapted’ for our selves, ‘I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved T nol Da-d-dy more.” Flic knew that whimsical mood of his, had. seen it in “lightning sketches” of real genius, and her heart softened towards this selfish sinner who had been thinking so entirely of his own feelings. “I can’t just say that, Mike,” she whispered, as he took her hands, “but 1 do care, and I bate your going. That day at Hampton will be a golden memory—all but the last chapter. I could not bear to pain you.’’ “Yet you succeeded,” he argued, i “Do you remember, Joan, years ago ! when you hurt yourself and would j come with a puckered face of grieving to me to kiss the place and make It well? Will you turn the tables to-day, [ Joan of the Great Heart—and give me a kiss to take wilh me to the heights of Fiosole- and the banks of the Arno?” He had a way wilh him that few women could have resisted- And Joan, not knowing what story her heart told her, vieded to his request,. Just that one kiss for him to take ijim as souvenir. But Joan . . .

standing alone in the studio a few seconds later, found herself regretting Liie kiss she hart bestowed. Michael ought no!, to have made the claim since . . . oh! she was still not sure whether she had a woman’s love to give him. The hell pealed sharply, and Nannie, grumbling softly, brought a note. It was from Lesterlees telling her that he himself would not be coming down next day to Berkshire. “ I wanii you to feel absolutely free,” he wrote. “ Absolutely at home. I shall be down in the course of a few days, ancl I hope to And Mr Hardale feeling more like painting. As I told you, 1 am keen to get that portrait finished.”

Was he as keen as he made out/? or, was it an exouse which gave him an opportunity of helping them? If it were the latter, he could not have acted with more delicate consideration. It would he so much easier to rest—without a host to enter Lain them. Joan gave a sigh of relief as she folded the letter, wishing Lcsterlees had came himself so that she might have thanked him. As the shought crossed her mind she was comparing the new friend’s methods with that of an old one. Anthony Lesterlees stood In the background and ' gave. Michael Grefton pressed to the fore —and claimed. AH the same it was of Michael the girl thought as she went slowly to her roomCHAPTER V. “Isn’t it. beautiful,” whispered Joan. " Why, dad, you could not help getting hotter in such a lovely place, and it is not ioo big, nor nearly as big or grand as I expected—and so much nicer.” Derick ‘Hardale smiled as he rested back In the lounge chair placed for him under an acacia free. “ 1 don’t think I have a want in (ihe world” he declared. “ 1 am absolutely content. What a garden!” Before them stretched a velve’y lawn bounded by a rosery on one side and herbaceous border on the other. There were flowers everywhere, Bowers at their best, sending out. a score of different perfumes on to the soft breezes. Behind them stood the old house —not by any means a large mansion, but just as decidedly a gentleman’s home, two storeyed only, with wide bays, and covered by creepers. ■Mrs Alton, the housekeeper, ha- 1 given them the kindest welcome, and without fussing, hut seen that they could have everything they coulcl possibly need. The atmosphere of the Court was altogether different from what either father or daughter had expected. There was no pomp, no grandeur, not even a man-servant to worry or impress them, as butlers so often do wild a sense of insignia - cance- There was only ifivc servants kept with motherly Mrs Alton In *w>ro-8. apd the latter was one oi

By MAY WYNNE.

hose happy people who contrive to keep an establishment running on tiled wheels. The rooms were all so lovable in, so cosy and snug—and there were flowers inside as w;i! as outside the house. To Joan and her father it all seemed to he an earthly paradise where life could drift hv in ideal 'happiness. " Mr Lesterlces is coming to-mor-row,” went on Joan. “Mrs Alton has just told me- lie must be a ‘nice master, for they all love him. What a mistake I made in thinking- him a money-grabber. Mrs Alton says tie gives thousands of pounds away and is adored up in the north. lie lias retired from business, hut lias turned his 'iron foundry into a glorified lim-ilc-11 concern, and every workman is a shareholder; I call it splendid. .‘Mr Lcslerlcss is the right sort of man to have money.” Ftardale said nothing. But in his heart lie was wishing Joan’s praise had not been quite so outspoken. “ I think I could go to sleep,” he (old her presently, “ so off you go on your explorations, and don’t hurry hack-”

She obeyed, gladly enough, but on reaching the house found a letter awaiting her. “ I hear you and your father are staying with my brother,” wrote her correspondent. “Do come in to tea if you have nothing better to do. Four-thirty any day you arc free. Don't stand on ceremony.—Yours sincerely, Erica Baydcll.” .loan carried the letter to Mrs Alton. “Who is Erica Raydell?” she asked. Mrs Alton smiled. “ iMr Eestcrlees’ widowed sister,” she replied- “ She lives at the Grange, that's the red house standing hack from the road near the station. You can’t miss it.” Joan 'hesitated- If Mr Lcslcr ees were coming to-morrow she tell u would be better to have made the acquaintance with his sister first- it seemed odd that the latter had not known about her being here. Why Pad not, Leslcrtees written to her to tell her? In fact, why did not Mrs Bavdcll live here? Joan was neither more or less cations than the rest of her sex, and because she wanted some oi T 1 questions answered, she decided to go and have tea at the Grange. Dad was asleep—and Mrs Alton would 1-ike him his tea later if she were no! hack. After deciding all this. Joan set off on her visit. She was.so hai l . in ibis peaceful country place. What a. pity Lesterlccs was coming tomorrow to spoil the charm of it- -ne had had a telegram of farewell from Michael—his going left a bank .in her life which made her hea actio Would lie ever come back to them at Hampstead? She doubted it-

The district was a well wooded one, and, as Joan turned to the right, the road lay between wire fences guarding plantations. A small house stood amongst, the trees near the road and, as Joan was passing, a terrified lien dew cackling across her path, followed by a mongrel yellow dog—-half-bred Great Dane. Joan’s action was impulse. She seized that yellow dog by the collar and held it till the lien readied shelter. Naturally the great brute resented such daring, and was round in a (wink, snarling and snapping. Joan, fearless though she was, retreated, snatching at a stick.

“ G'Ci, down, you villain!” she stormed, and was answered by a queer laugh and whistle. The dog knew its master, and retired from the fray, whilst Joan, looking back saw the strangest individual she had ever faced, lie was middle-aged, tall and lean, dressed in nondescript clothes of good cut, but well worn; his hair was lank, his jaw square, and his features narrow. Something of the Red Indian type, though his eyes were pale. “'Lucky for you I was here, Kidlet,” he said- “ Oanjou is a hard nut to crack.” Joan flushed. “ It’s a bad trick, hen-grabbing,” she retorted shortly. The other nodded. “ Agreed,” he replied, “ a bad trick or a bad nature. Rather more of the latter with Danjou. Gats and lions are his proper quarry, lie would never willingly miss either. (To he continued.)