PAID IN FULL

Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21222, 19 September 1940, Page 11

PAID IN FULL

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by H. S. Sarbert

CHAPTER Vll.—(Continued) The colour came into her cheeks, and she hardly knew what to answer. She always felt like that when Harry gave her thanks. It made her feel awkward and embarrassed, for she could not tell him she had been glad to do this for him because she loved him so much; that there w'as nothing in the world she would not have done, no sacrifice that she would have considered too great, in order to bring him back to health and strength. How could she say these things when she knew perfectly well that Harry was in love with another girl? That any feeling for her which he entertained in the past was dead now, and would never return! Just at that moment there came a double knock at the front door. “That’s the postman!” Viola cried. “I’ll come back at once if there’s a letter for you, Harry.” She did come back at once, for there was a letter for him. It was the eagerly awaited answer to his own note to Carrie, in which he asked why she had not come to see him, had come as near to a reproach as he had ever done. Viola noticed how Harry’s hand trembled as he Qpened the envelope, and she guessed that he would prefer to be alone as he read the letter. So she went quietly from the room. “My dearest Harry,” that young man read, “I was very glad to get your letter and to know that you are progressing so well. Of course, I am looking forward to seeing you again. I am counting every minute almost. ‘ But really, Harry, I have not earned your reproach. If you really want to know why I haven't been at your side, you have only to ask your father. I hate to write this—to write a word that will cause any trouble between you. but he does show, by every word and every look, how much he dislikes me. “I don't know whether you have been told, but both your father and Viola Winn had quite a lot to say to me the last time I was with you. They practically ordered me from the house; they both as good as accused me of being the cause of your accident—just as if I have not suffered enough on that account, without them making things harder for me to bear. “Harry, I'm really and truly ! sorry about the way things are turning out ,and I'm more than anxious to have you near me again, fit and strong. But I have some pride, and this has come to the front now. “I cannot —however much I may want to see you—come to a house where I am unwelcome, and received with such hostility. I must just wait until you can come back to London. “If you have suffered, I have suffered as well—and am still suffering. With all my love, Carrie."

There was serpentine cunning in the writing of that letter. Carrie might surely have waited until she aad definite news of Harry’s complete recovery before writing in such a manner. But, no! It was her chance, and she determined to make the very most of it. So when Viola came back to the room, Harry asked her whether his father was in, and she said that he had just called back. Mr Preston, had, of course, been stopping at his own home during this time, but he had been coming over as often as possible to his son’s side. “I’d like to see him at once, if you don’t mind, Viola—and I’d like to see him alone.” “Why—of course.” Viola moved towards the door. Sne had caught the new tone in Harry’s voice, the new note of hostility. There had been something in the letter he had received from Carrie Lucas that made him ask like this. She gave the message to Mr Preston, however and the latter went upstairs at once. Back to London “How now, son?” Mr Preston greeted his boy. “Still feeling better?” “Yes, thanks,” Harry replied. “That’s good, because I’m making arrangements to have you moved from here first thing in the morning,” David said. “We should have done it before, but little Viola was so keen that you should be on the high road to recovery first of all—that we shouldn’t take anything in the nature of a risk. But you can come along now, Harry, and we can finish your convalescence at home. It will be like old times again, lad, won’t it? Just the two of us in the old home together—and I shall look after you, just as I used to when you were a little lad.” “I’m going back to London,” Harry stated coldly. His father started. “Eh? What’s that?” he cried. “Going back to London? Why, yes, of course you are—a little later on, when you’re quite fit and strong again, when the doctor says that it will be all right for you to go! But you've got to wait his word for that Harry did not give his father time to finish his sentence. “I’m going back almost at once,” he put in. “I’m all right, father! There’s no need to mollycoddle me—that was something you never wanted to do when I was a youngster, and there's no need for you to do it now, unless you have a special motive of your own.” It was the tone, even more than the words themselves, that made the older man flinch. “What do you—mean, Harry?” he questioned. “I don’t—understand you." “You understand well enough! There’s someone who means even more to me than you do, father—someone who I am even more anxious to see—Carrie Lucas, the girl I love—the girl from whom you are so | anxious to keep me away. I’ve just | had a letter from her, and I know ’ exactly why she has not been to see I me. I've been condemning her; in I fact, I wrote her a letter reproach- | ing her. and—But you can see her | answer for yourself.” I Harry threw the letter over to his j father, who read it through. I “It is a wickedly unjust letter, lad.” he said, “although it's just the ! kind of letter I should expect her to j write. She can't miss the chance lof causing bad blood between us, | even although you are ill. She ” (To be continued)