The Troubled Journey

Waikato Times, Volume 119, Issue 19891, 21 May 1936, Page 4

The Troubled Journey

SERIAL STORY

‘7 By MARGARET GLENN.

l "norm-s Joan Martin cannot "get on" with Janet, her stepmother. The other Martin children. Felicity and Jimmy. feel the same. but it is easier for them. as Felicity ls ”"s"le and living in London, and Jimmy s away at school. At last Joan revolts, and goes to live with Felicity. She attends a private com‘ mercial school owned by Derek Graham, is J'ouna’ widower. and later is successful in obtaining a post as secretary to Georfiei’ Matthews, head or the vast commer“sl e“ml'l'irise of Matthews and \\'yatt. Meanwhile. avarice has bitten very deeply into Janet Martin's mind. She hates her S‘EDchildren. and plans to hurt them “1 eVEri’ way she can. .FEHl'liy‘s husband goes abroad to super» was an engineering job, and Felicity acQoml)anies him. After seeing them off zit aouthamiitim, Juan is surprised to find Derek Graham waiting to run back to London. _——- . CHAPTER XI. Old John Martin never recovered consciousness, but when Joan awakened, next morning. after a sleep which had come when the nurse had dosed her with n sleeping drought, she felt little of the acute unhappiness which she had feared. She felt sad: but i there,had been something wonderfuli about her father‘s death. lie had been I happy, and he had gone to join the won man whom he had first loved, and who had loved him. i The next few days were sad ones. lenlightened only by her memory of his , lust words. 1 Janet said litile to her. She was inot surprised ill her step—mother‘s Jack of feeling. although she had cx—‘pecied Janet to pretend a greater inrlef than she did. There was some—‘thing furiive about Janet, in the two idays whlch prerceded the funeral, and later Jonn realised what it had been. But at that, time she had no idea. The funeral was slmple and impressive. The dead man had been reshec—led in the town. and scientists from all over the country sent florsi tributes to his memory. Joan felt a glow of pride at the fact that her father had earned such goodwill. It was on the Friday that she went back to London. She went first. to Bendlcsham, with Jimmy, who had been granted leave of absence from his school for the fun—eral. Joan could not. understand why he had not been informed earlier of the lost illnrss, for he was terribly grieved that he had not seen his father but neither of them wanted to question Junet. .Ilmmy took it well. however. lie was ncurly eighteen, and in many ways he was older than his ycurs. As he look learn: of his sister ncur ihc Si‘ll‘iill, in- said: " \\'c'll stir]. in each other, .loan. i wonder what will lumpru in us?“ Jonn prrSsrd his hand warmly. " \\‘e‘ll be all right," silo said. it was his words, however, which made her think, for the first time, of money. For her own part, she was quite happy, and well-cored for. But Jimmy needed money. What arrangements had her father made for him? She did. not know, but she expected. soon, to have news of a Will. None came. She hated to think that she was being svarlcious, and she believed that if she made any inquiries it would appear that her chief interest in her father‘s deathbed had been to benefit from it. Consequently she said nothing. ' And then the news came. Joan had a shock, mingling surprise and disap—pointment. ller father had left all his money to Janetl It seemed incredible. but it had happened. Joan was puzzled and worried. She knew her father had not intended to leave his children pennilcss. Old John had often told her that ho had looked after them, and made sure that they were comfortable. it was unlike him it!) have left everything to Janet, and‘ to have made even Jimmy dependent lon his stop—mother. . Knowing nothing of the regular pro,crdurs, and being too shy to make any _inquirles, Joan let the matter slide. gller chief concern was for Jimmy, but , he had mentioned nothing in his weekly ,‘letters to her, and she determined to i leave it until she could discuss it with . him. She felt that she could not tall: loi’ the Will even with Derek Graham. i The month which followed that sadidenins visit to Danchester was vary 3 eventful; in many ways Josh was glad. ! Geoffrey Matthews semed much I-mors cheerful than he had been. its was busier than ever, and Joan was . frequently needed to work late at night. ;She did so ungrudgingly, for her saliary was a good one, and she realised E that the pressure of work was consid{erable and exceptional. Twice she :saw Ralph Matthews. He was pleasent and courteous to her, but she still I had no reason to believe that Dorothy‘s i estimate of his character was the cor- , rect one. i She did not see a great deal of Doro—,ihy, whose lunch hour did not ruin—- ! ride with hers, and who usually rushed ‘nfl to her flat as soon as work was i ilnished. Once Joan did visit. the flat, l‘hut she had no opportunity of a quiet ‘ .olk. % The thing which worried her most, at. that time, was Derek's health. . They continued to see :i great deal toi’ each other, and still Derek said ‘nothlng of his hopes. Joan was 1'0"]- ‘ pletcly at a loss to understand tilts, ul—ihough she was glad, for she was still not. sure of her feelings towards him. But she had a. deep regard for him, and she hated to see the pallidncss of his features. They went for a spin into Surrey. one Saturday afternoon, and she took him to task on the subject of overwork. ”l‘m sure there‘s no need for you to do so much," she said. “ Isn‘t there? " asked Derek, with :1 cheerful smile. ills spirits seemed to go up as ills health went down. "That's it matter of opinion, .lozm. You just wait for a little while." “ Just wait?" Derek nodded, but refused to say more. .lonn could only iumglnr that ho was planning a tour for their holiday, which both of them assumed thr} would spend ing'i‘ihi‘r. She luuirhmi :ii hersi'lt' when she ri-ulisod how “Hii'h they look for granted. Surely they worn the i‘uunii'si couple tlmt had over “ walkml out “2’ ’l‘mvurils iln‘ mlihlh- of Jill). lli‘ri'k's spirits grow buoyant, llu innl sumothing in mind. .luzm knrw, :luil shn played up in him l),\' :islting’ ('uniinliully \\hut it was. 110 hri‘srrwd his srrrri with ”it” huyislmcss \\hirh shv hml Sl'l‘ll in him before. “ You'll son." was all he \\Uillil my. it \\in: on tho i.l>l Suturdxi) in .illl). \\hrn ihry \\rrr in start their i‘url‘ niuhi's liuliila) ilml ll" hrnnrhrd the sultirrt again. They li.ul frequently illSi‘lL‘sgd \\hr‘ri' in go for the two “mks. and plum, who had much \:.\}lml iinrn\\.ill. iwua .inxinus in lnlli' thnl incl} suiilli, crn count}. lh‘rri. \\l<lll\\d§§ \IUL.JL§ } to tell. in with her wishes.

(’l'u he ounlinumL

If Mrs Gregory—who was rapidly establishing a. warm place in Joan's heart. was secretly a little worried at the idea of the young couple going for a holiday together, without even 1115: unwritten understanding of an engagement. she said nothing. and cheered Joan as much as she could.

“ You‘re needing the rest,“ she said, “ and I know Derek Graham will make sure that you get. it." “ He's a dear,“ said Joan quietly.

Mrs Gregory looked at her uncer—tainly. She could not understand why the young people did not announce the engagement which she lhought was certainly unzlm'stood between them. But young- folks, these days did not behave as may had done twenty, 01' even ten. years before. One thing. she was certain. Joan Marlin would never do anything or which she would ever be ashamed.

Dcrek, persuaded at last. to take his holiday from work. called in the Morris for Joan on the Sunday morning.-

He was as cheerful as éver. It Vvas remarkable, Juan thought, that he

could have changed so much in the few months that she had known hlm. With her. at least, his shyness had worn right off. and he was nothing like so serious as he had been.

That nmrning‘, possibly because they were at the start of their holiday, he was in wonderfully good spirits. He kept up a bright conversation all the way down to Looe, where they Were making- their headquarters. Joan told herself that he was trying to make sure lliat her holiday was not spoiled by the memory of the week which she had spent at Ilanchestcr. Ten miles outside Looe, they pulled up at a little wayside cafe and had tea. As the meal progressed, Derek grew more serious than he had been. Joan needed no telling that the moment which she had expected was coming at last. ' She wondered what he would say if she did not give him a definite answer. She owed it to him to say “yes,” of course. Although they had‘never s; oken of love, nor marriage, no two people would have gone about to—gether {ls they would have done with—out that being the underlying motive. She sighed a little, inwardly. What—ever else, she must be fair. She owed ii to him—and he so richly deserved a reward for his patience, and his good—ness. ' As they finished the meal, he looked at her very softly. ‘i in a little while," he said, “I‘m soint,r to ask you something, Joan. I don't think you need telling what it is. liut first there's something I want you to see." Joan nodded, and her eyes glistened. She, roll, at that moment, that she did line him; that. she would always love him, lie was so dependable— Half an hour later he led her along a narrow garden path towards a small house set high on the hills around the coast. The windows of the house opened towards the sea, at the south, or the moorlauds to the north and west. It was one of the moat picturesque little place-s that Joan had ever seen. “ Do you like it?" “ It‘s—wonderful!" breathed Joan. And it was. The sun was shining, low in the heavens for it was nearly seven o‘clock, but its cheerful warmth and friendlly glow semed to caress them. .\ light wind was blowing from the sea. fanning their cheeks, putting a crispness in the air. The sea. itself, a. vast expanse of smooth water, rippled ever so faintly, was ,shimmerin-g blue be—neath the sky—blue heaven. Here and there a while cloud scudded across the sky. In the distance the white tops of the sailing-boats in Looe Harbour added that little homely touch which was needed to give perfection to the scene. To the north, the red-tinged moorlands stretchE‘d, as though they existed without end. The green of the trees, the brilliant patches of grass, all smiling beneath the sun, held a fascination. There was silence, too, broken only by the song of the wind and the trilling birds. “ You‘re sure?" Derek asked, in a whisper. “ It‘s divincl“ breathed Joan. , Derek was satisfied. He led her further along the path towards the house, and she saw the care with which the garden had been tended. The flowers were luxuriant and beautiful; lupins in all their glory, wonderful poppies, blooms almost loyelier than she had ever seen. And the peaceflness of that garden and that house seemed to enter her heart. She knew, of course, what it meant. it was surely the loveliest thing of all the lovely things that he had done for her. She could imagine the long weekends which he had spent down here, preparing this. She could imagine the rare with which he had chosen the plants. for She noticed that her favourites predominated. She could pic,— ture the eagerness with which he had awaited this moment. Still without speaking, he opened the front door with his key, and they stepped into the liiilc passage. ’l‘hr‘ place was like a glimpse of heaven. l-Ivcryihins wits furnished like a dream home. Not in her wildest fancy could .loan have conceived any—thing like this. She felt, just for a while, that she was not in this world. She felt that she had been transpianiet'i to some place far away, where her mind could roam as she wanted. where everything \was smiling, and the couids did not exist. it was Very wonderful, previous lwynnd words. She sensed the eagerness with which he \\us watching: her, and she knew iimi he was more lhnn sniisilcd by illL‘ mprcssinn on in'r fin-c. ‘ 'l'ilcy hzui lrccn into t‘lll'il one, of the. sewn rooms, from the i‘ronl room lot the liny (liiii‘ with its lziiiit'wl windows, lnt‘uri- he said. for the [hint iiuic: “ You him it. Juan?" “ lini't‘ ilmny anything i could ilith“ iii‘i-unich: snill Juliil. and 1101' \oiro I]lli\l'i‘t‘li \\iih ('lllniinll. . lli- ltllik hwr :u'm in his; and lii-‘3' i\\iiii\i‘ii into ilii' .fliil'ilvli, 'l‘ilt'l'i' \\.i.~; :1 {quiet smile :is he rlnwd iili' t'ronil iiuut'. stopped :linl limlu‘il iii iii'i', his il'if—“ill hind (“\it‘iltil‘tl inwards ili‘l'. i in n he mm M try—n].- toy- or mn' in-um‘ “\\‘ill you [aim ii 2’" he asked, iilili his mire «min-rial.