JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17979, 26 March 1930, Page 12

JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

CHAPTER IXContinued. Lesterlees was not the man to let difficulties delay him. He went out whilst Hardale was dressing and phoned for a heart specialist, who came within the hour, ordering a dozen different kinds of medicines, stimulants, nutriment. He was a cheery fellow, that specialist, and gave the most 'Optimistic report of his patient’s case. Hardale certainly looked hotter already. Ho even joked with Nannie, who was left in charge of the house for the present. Oh, it was all “present”—the future could he (left to itself. After all, the journey to Berkshire was delayed till next clay. Ilardnlc's strength had Been tried by so much excitement. Joan was glad to be able to slip out to 'bid au revolr to old friends and to spend a moonlit hour in the studio. What mattered Ihe cold? —wrapped in her thick coat sho lay curled on tho shabby sofa and watched tho ghosts of tho past como crowding in to that room of many a merry overling's play and masquerade. How sho recalled that mock duel between Michael and Tom Webbing, and Michael's mad climb out of tho window and over tho roof. They had had singsongs, tableaux, tho gayest of rampings there amongst tho easels, the paints, tho tangle, of costumes. Sho loved to think of thoso days, and then quietly burled her gliosis, with a tear to shed over their grave. Tho bitterest tear was for tho love that had failed.

Nannie's was the most triumphant figure in that “flitting." Hardale waved to her from tho car where he lay at ease. “ We shall be back to help with tho spring cleaning, Nan, never fear,” ho cried, and laughed at her scornful reminder that Christmas was npt here yet.

The fogs had rolled aside as if in honour of their going, the sun shone all the way to Berkshire, it was a glorious ride. Hardale was glad lo go to bed on arrival and Lesterlees had a tete-a-tete meal with bis fiancee.

“Isn’t Time strange?" she said, as she rested back in her chair when desert was on the table, “it is only a few hours since I was tidying the studio alone—and wondering whether J dared spending two and : six for a sole for Dad’s dinner; and now here I am at Rawlon Court . . . and I shan’t even have to bother to look down a flsh list. You have been the fairy prince in my life to-day—Anthony.” “Call me Tony," he begged. “ I like it best. Do you mind if I smoke? Come back to the lounge and we can talk more easily. There is so much I want to know about you, Joan." “Tell me,” she asked, as she seated herself' in the biggest of arm chairs, “ did the police ever catch tho burglars who burgled? And have you seen your sister lately?” He smiled, glad to sec her so at her ease.

“ I have not seen Erica since that day,” he replied. “ I can guess the reason. No one has ever found the burglars. The police suspect a gang from London. It matters less, since they look nothing of any value.”

He did not seem to wish to discuss the subject, and Joan did not like to refer to it again, though .she was sorry to think that in any way she had come between brother and sister. Mrs, Baydell Iliad been quite kind—outwardly, and John could not help sympathising with her very natural dislike to an interloper! And what would the ladies of the Grange say when they found their worst fears fulfilled and heard that Anthony was engaged? “It seems so—odd calling you by your Christian name," she said to Lesterlees with a smile, as 'they sat there by the great log fire, “but I like It, I ... I would rather call you Anthony though and not Tony, It suits you best, it is more—-dignified.” lie gave a low laugh of amusement. “You forget I- am only thirty-three, ho replied; “you talk as If 1 were i), great-grandfather. What am 1 to do to put myself on your level? In short to be Tony and not Anthony?” She wrinkled her. brows.

“Tobogganing might do It— or a snow-fight,” she suggested, “but honestly I can’t picture you in Bohemia. Wo are altogether mannerless, Tho conventional table cloth, tho serene butler, the lit tie etiquettes of polite society, are Ignored; wo cat when wo like, as we like, where we like. Wo amuse ourselves In tho some way. Wo talk of what interests us. Small talk would bo .shouted down. Wc never allude to the weather as a stop gap, When we go for a picnic It is a romp; when we entertain it is because wo want our friends to have a good time, No ono notices if tho visitor's shirt Is frayed, or even If a woman wears odd stockings. We don't study fashion plates, but comfort. We make our olothos servo us and arc not servants to our clothes. That is a little bit of Bohemia, It Is tho life of those who kick out from tho rut that J suffocates I hem,” She wan led him !o understand all ! this, and was terribly in earnest over it, It vexed her lo see Ills indulgent smile as he nodded.

“j. see," lie rep lied, "to please you 1 am to 'kick out' from my rut. You don’t mind my hinting that to Ho la a rut is to be sheltered from storm," Joan grimaced, "There are some kind of storms which are really refreshing,” was her ultimatum, But Lesterlees did not seem prepared to argue tho point. "You don't look exactly In a til stato to face any storm 'to-night,” lie remarked, rising, "and so I will say good night. To-morrow we must start Sir W — ’b treatment for youd father in earnest.”

Ho took her two hands and looked down at her, Could ho indeed understand the jangled moods of this tired little girl who wanted so much sympathy, so much protection, and who yet held her head up with a halfdefiant air as though standing on her rights as a daughter of Bohemia? "Good-night, Joan of Hie Great Heart," said he, and would have bent to kiss her had sho not so quickly withdrawn her hands and lied up the wide slalrcasedo the welcome solitude of her room. CHAPTER X. It was Mrs. Alton who told Joan—■ what the lal-tcr half felt siie ought not to hear, since il concerned Anthony's sister, “ You’ll not lie going to the Grange, my dear,” hinted the housekeeper, after she had finished congratulating Joan on her engagement and Idling her there never was such a gentleman as Mr. Lesterlees. “I think I had better be telling you in ease you jn.ighl be made uncomfortable.. Of course, tlie burglary here was the talk of the neighbourhood, and some went so far as to say that if Mrs. Baydell had not been so free in talking with Boris Flcnton, who lives in the woods near the Grange, there would have been no opening of l.lie master's secret lock that night. Be that as it may, Mrs Baydell has not been a-nigh tho Court since that night, and wo hear through Jennings the postman and some of the

By 'MAY WYNNE

others too, that she has engaged herself to marry the Captain who is no more Captain than I am. The master went to the Grange after I told him the report, but what he said to his sister and what she said to him we don’t know.” “It .can’t be true," said Joan. “Mrs. Baydell could never have engaged herself to such a man.” No wonder, if this were indeed fact, that Anthony avoided speaking of his sister. r Phosc were trying days for Joan. Ilcr father not only ralied, but was regaining much of his old gaiety. He was delighted to think Joan was to marry the master of Ilawton Court and was never tired of telling her how lucky she was. “ But I shan’t marry for years and years, Dad,” she would protest plaintively. “You would not wish it, would you? We are always going to he together. Always.” “ Yes, yes,” he agreed, half impatiently. “Always together, Joanie, till the day of parting. We won’t talk of that, but you know and I know why 1 want to see my girl in the safe keeping of a good man.” Joan felt suffocated. “If only Dad had said that to me before. If only he had tolcl Michael his wish,” she whispered to herself; “but even then what could we have done? I could not have left Dad to go with Michael . . . and he would not have been patient like Anthony, lie loved me so—passionately. He must be suffering even though he writes gaily.” Yes, he wrote gaily enough. She had had another lottor forwarded to her here, and she had answered it telling Mike 'Of her engagement. Then she had burned his letter. It was better so. After the first evening Lesterlees had not tried to kiss his fiancee, though sometimes she would surprise a wistful inquiry in his eyes—asking for more than she could give. And ■beyond that he was no more than the good comrade whose thoroughness never failed. He had brought an engagement ring—diamond and sapphires.

“Rubies are out ol' fashion,” said he. “And I am fond of sapphires blue as your eyes.” “It is a lovely ring,” she replied: “thank you for it.” He was seated at his desk as she spoke and, following the impulse of the moment, she leaned over and bestowed a butterfly kiss on his brow. She saw the colour rush to his face as he turned—but too late to catch her hands. “ Joan,” he said. But Joan had gone. “I wish I had not kissed him,” she told herself afterwards; “he will expect me to do it again.” iTo he continued.}

Tobacco, always a joy to the smoker, is never, perhaps, better appreciated than on a long railway journey, when one has, perforce, to remain a prisoner for hours at a time. Such is the beneficent .influence of the weed that it will relieve even the tedium of travelling. But on a long journey you want a brand you can smoke all day without tongue, throat, or nerves suffering. “Where is such tobacco obtainable?” you may ask, Why, at any tobacconist’s! Ask for Riverhead Gold Navy Cut, Cavendish, or Gut Plug No. 10. They are all good, and the secret of their marked superiority is that, unlike all other tobaccos, they are toasted. This process gives them their wonderful flavour and fragrance, and —more important still—largely neutralises the nicotine in the leaf, thus rendering them absolutely safe to smoke—even to excess 1 You cannot say that of the imported brands, all of them full of nicotine, and bound to affect the health if used habitually, because, S as any doctor will tell you, nicotine is a deadly poison. *