The Troubled Journey

Waikato Times, Volume 119, Issue 19878, 6 May 1936, Page 4

The Troubled Journey

By MARGARET GLENN.

I CHAPTER l.—{Goniinued). “ Ui course a girl can‘t get her own lining," said Martha again. "And in lLondon—«it‘s a crime to try, a real I t-riinr.” i “ Nonsense,“ said Joan, to herself, I .\uIl then she looked til. Martha Oli—iiuhunt, catching something of the horI i'or in that spinsler‘s face. She saw her .‘.stuli-illtliliC‘l' t‘rown, sharply, and heard {several 01' the other Visitors give Voice [to those little clucking noises which swere supposed to signify disapproval, l llllt served to remind Joan of chickens. , Joan was puzzled, just for a mo;mcut; and then she realised that they guiust have heard that whispered ‘non—scnse'. No one had been speaking, and .‘ the little word had echoed very clearly I round the room. Joan felt, for a moment, a little tlusier of panic. This would mean trouble with her step—mother; it would mean that life for the next few days would be unbearable. Janet Martin dared not nag her husband but she was not afraid of nagging his children. ‘Joan would have given anything to have taken that word back. She could hardly believe she really had uttered it aloud. ‘ Janet Martin's words soon made her certain. “I don't think you know what You are saying, Joan. Apologi-se to Miss Oliphant immediately." The words: “l‘m sorry“ trembled on Joan’s lips. Then she saw her step—mother, staring at ‘her so grimly, she could almost read the thoughts in Janet's mind. Something in her own mind scented to snap. She seemed to revolt against this orderly nonsense, against the same old thing, day in, day out, against the complete control which her step-mother had over her, against the malicious gossip which was passed to and fro in this room. It was all bad, hadl She had been part of it for years; she had nodded and smiled, as she had been told. Now she felt that she could stand it no longer. A smile lingered on her lips, and there was an expression in her eyes which none of the others” could fathom. She spoke coolly enough; in fact she felt cool, now, and 'the panic had left her. it seemed that she had suddenly realised she was a grown woman: twenty-one, at. twenty-one, seems very old. “I‘m sorry," said Joan, “if I've caused Miss Oiiphant any hurt—that certainly wasn‘t intended. But it is foolish to talk about it being a. crime if a girl goes to London to earn her own living. Or if it is a crime, than there must be half a million criminals in London." There was a complete silence after she had finished speaking. Janet Martin‘s cronies had grown so accustomed to ilnding Joan ‘qutet, spirit—less and acquiescent in everything that this revolt, mild enough though it was, staggered them. Martha Oliphant was flabbergasted. She believed very strongly in the old adage that youth should be seen and not heard. Janet Martin's eyes sparkled. One of the other visitors. more kindly disposed towards the girl than the others, tried to smooth over the situation. "There‘s something in what Joan says," commented this woman—a. Mrs McMichael. Joan flashed her a. quick, grateful look. Janet stared at her as it’ she was defending communism. “ Absurd,“ said Janet, in her high. rather harsh voice. “ Joan, you will apologise to Miss Oliphant immediately -—-and unreservedly. Kindly do so at once." Joan Martin stared at her stepmother. calmly. There was nothing in her, now, of the easy gtve-and-take of her father. Anyone who had known Mary Martin would have seen her very strongly in Joan, at that moment. The girl‘s eyes flashed; her chin jutted forward a little, and her slim, well-proportioned body seemed drawn up, as though she was prepared to fight to the last. ditch. “I‘m sorry," she said again, “ that you look on it like that, but I just can‘t see that there‘s anything to apologise for, more than I‘ve already . done." Again there was a complete silence. And then Janet stoodlup. It almost seemed that she would strike her i step—daughter. l Instead: “ Kindly leave the room, Joan, and no not come here again when my friends are here. For your display ot‘ thud manners I will deal later. .\'uw‘ I so." Joan stood up. There was a glitlcrl in her eyes, but there was a smile on 4 her lips. She sensed that Mrs Alt-Michael was on her side; she was luwnrc that her step-mother'out a ‘mtiicr ridiculous figure; she was sudtiunly, overwhelmingly convinced that she was no longer completely sthect i la the older woman's will. t She did not endeavour to defy Janet li'urther. it would have been t‘nolish, land it would have put her altogether [in the wrong. instead. with that quiet smile on her lips, she went out of the ' room. l CHAPTER 11. As she walked from the house in (\\'cst :‘ide, Danohcsicr, Juan Martin ;reulisotl that site had come in the ond 'ot‘ hcr patience. For her father‘s sake she had stayed at home, and hilt] iriml ,tn liw with Janet. it. would hit nu 'lnnm'r limsihle. From the start. it hurt been had enough; now it would hr, uu—iiirttruhir. (in the other hand, there was 'no \\.ty in \\lllt'li she could (turn her Suwn living. in theory stir. htul op]im'otl )lul‘lllit‘ Uliphuul; in practice, stir thought :I little i‘urfnlly, it was your: in hr tlitllwnlt. Hui lln'rr must ,ln- suinr \\uy nut; sht- lilllfil. i‘uuc il. ‘ The. June tl.t,\' was warm. \\'illmul hat or rmt slu- \\ullu'lt to the nut—skirts of tln- ltlllt‘ town, and .u'rnss .tln- moors twininl ii. The illlll‘l Svl'l'll’ it)‘ oi' the rountrisittt- «in that SunlMum's tiny srt‘niwl in lull lit-r, In rrA :Issitrt- lit'r. 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'l‘ht' lm'nk lldll t'lllllt'. .tlllllt,\[ .in its own. ln-l'nrt-Jimlll lint l’-'.i|i_\ I'i‘.lll~i‘li ii. ‘l‘hvrt- \\lla nu sensr 11l [min-lull; it up. ‘in» I'V'tll'lllll In \\'lw' still; .rilll ~l\\ ll rm \\uinrn tinnmu llll' imuw 'l‘lmt innint llt' ‘.lt humr" pit-ix. \\.t‘ l-waiun- till \ .vu >v'l‘llll‘i\ Mir" \ll'v .\iu.\li\:htwi L‘uauu out, Ll} llL‘i'aL‘ii, .unl

rather red—faced. Joan could half guess what had happened. She walked towards the woman who had supported her. Mr .\lr.\[ichar‘l. a slim, rather tllnnrny little body, and a unwiime friend of Mary Martin, smiled uuirkly at. the girl. ““1211, young lady." she said,’ with—out heating about the hush, “ you've managed to put your foot in it properly this time, haven‘t you? " "‘l'ln ai‘raid so.” said Joan. Mrs McMirhael snorted. “Stuff and nonsense,‘ she said, with North country down—lightness. “You said what you ought to have said. I‘ve been fearing ye've none of the spirit of gen: mother, Joan, and l‘m glad to see that ye have. Now—will ye take a little advice? " “ Yes," said Joan, very quietly. “Write to your sister," said Mrs McMichael, “ and ask her to put ye up for a few weeks. Ye'lt lead a dog‘s life it’ ye stay at home, for a while. Yc‘re step-mother nigh set about me.“ Mrs McMichael laughed, despite her words. Joan\ioincd her. And then she burst. out: “' l’ll no better than that," she said. “I'll write to Felicity, and I'll have a reply by the morning. May I walk along with you to the post ofilce?" “Remember if yc‘re seen yc'll be walking with the devil.” \\'-armed Mrs MrMirhaci. “l‘vc none so good It reputation now as i had this morning, Joan. Ye're step-mother's right vexed with me for supporting ye." “It was a. great. help,” Said Joan, warmly. “I——l know it all seemed rather silly, this afternoon, but it wasn't just that one subject. It‘s been coming on for months and months land . . . " i " Years," broke in the other woman, grimly. “ I've seen it, lass and so have others. Ye're father‘s a right good man, but he surely is as blind as a bat where his children are concerned." Mrs )chichael nearly said ”wife," but she corrected herself in time. Joan ‘ admired her for it, and was more‘ grateful than she could put into words. ‘ They parted as they turned into lligh Street. Joan went to the post othce, quickly, and despatohed her~ wire. 1t read: 1 “ Jackson, Parkview, Downs Road, Wimbledon—Can you put up with me for a week or two—Joan." It was half past ilve when Joan despatched the telegram, and she was half afraid that her sister would \\'ll‘l} back. She had no idea for her step—mother—who would open a wire—«to know what plans she was making until they were actually ready. She. wished that she had put “write io-night" in the wire, but the damage was done. no\\'. As she turned into the house she felt her heart beating fast. Four years of Janet Martin's domination was not easily forgotten. Even though she was openly rebellious, she was still afraid of her step—mother‘s acid tongue, and she was not looking forward to their next interview. As she entered the front. hall. however, she saw something which took her mind from the trouble of that afternoon. A suitcase and a cricket hag were in the hall and, stuck jauntily on one of the pegs of the hall-stand, was Jimmy‘s schooi cap. Jim was home! Joan literally flew along the passage towards her father‘s room. She guessed that Jimmy would be there, and her guess was accurate. As the door opened, Jimmy jumped up from his chair, opposite ‘his father, and brother and sister hugged each other. (To be continued).