HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1930-12-11, Page 6V
THURSDAY, DECEMBER D30 THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE
* AV HAT HAS GONE BEFORE
Giles Chittenham sets out to
make Julie Farrow love him, in
tending to throw her over in re
venge tor the suicide of his young
er brother- Rodney, whom Julie
had cast off. He succeeds, but
finds that he has fallen desperate
ly in love with her himself. Then
he discovers that it was not this
Julie farrow, but her cousin of
the same name, who had driven
his brother to death. But Giles
is married, to an American girl
named Sadie Barrow, with whom
he has not lived with for a long
time. .Sadie unexpectedly turns
up in London at a party at Giles’
mother’s house, but both keep sil
ent about their marriage.
Julie, disillusioned, enters in
to the wild night life of London
to try tp drown her anguish. Law
rence Schofield wants to marry
Julie. Lombard, who had first
introduced her to Chittenham, de
mands money from Giles with the
threat that if he is not paid he
will tell Schofield that Chitten
ham and Julie spent the night to
gether on the St. Bernard Pass.
Later, Julie confesses to Chitten
ham that she loves him.
At a spiritalist seance at' Giles’
mother’s house Sadie Barrow, his
wife, suddenly goes blind,. She
calls to him and he responds, re
vealing the fact that she is his
wife. Julie, who has .sent Scho
field away because of her love for
Chittenham, goes home in despair,
■Chittenham follows her, but she
sends him away andi decides she
will accept Schofield. She goes
to .Schofield’s hotel. He is out,
hut she leaves a note for him.
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
“I will never willingly see him
xigain,” Julie told herself passion
ately. “He has deceived me twice.
I will never ‘forgive him as long as
I ive.”
She got up almost violently as
'through driven by the sudden re
daction of thought.
She would send at' once for Scho
field. She would not lose a mom
ent.
Sihe went to the ’phone and called
Ills number, but it was only after a
Jong time that the hotel people
-could give her any news of him.
He was out at the moment, they
xsaid, but he was certainly returning
-that night.
There was a little pause—then:
“Mr. .Schofield is leaving London
icarly to-morrow morning.”
“Leav—” .. 1
Julie felt as if her last anchor
Trad been torn from her—the wave#
of misery and utter lonliness -seemed
to beat up afresh all round her. The
voice at the other end of the ’phone
saskedi politely if a message could be
taken.
“No—oh, no, thank you.”
Julie hung up the receiver and
turned away. Lawrence was leav-
iing London, leaving her!—she was
•seized with exaggerated panic. What
was to become of her? , Even Bim
was weary of her, there was no place
■for her in the world. But Lawrence
had loved her, must surely still love
tier. She remembered ’the despair
in his eyes when she told him she
would not marry him.
If she could only see him for a
-jnoment she was confident that
everything would be all right—to
see,him, just to see him!; iShe felt
Hike a child left alone in the dark
straining every nerve to get to the
«ne person who can take away dread
and- the desolate sense of lonliness.
(She took off her loose gown and
stressed again with shaking fingers,
-she was -still very cold, but her face
and head felt burning.
She- would put herself beyond
•Chittenham’s reach, to-morrow when
Sie- came lie- should find it too late.
If Lawrence would! take her away
to-night she Would go with him. She
was tired of hoping for things that
aiever came true, afraid of a love
that brought with it only bain. She
Went out into the wet, chilly night
.and took a taxi. She drove straight
to the hotel where Lawrence was
staying. No, he was not in yet, and
they could not say at what hour he
'would, be returning. It was past
Stine then.
“I’ll wait a little while and see if
Mr. Schofield returns,” she said.
The minutes ticked away, and
later she supposed that she must
have fallen into a stupor, out of
Tivliich site avcis. T'otisocl wit. 11 <1 stsivt
do the sound of a chiming clock. She
-walked across to the porter.
“I cannot wait any» yonger, I will
$eave a note for Mr. (Schb-tield.
He took her to a desk and gave
paper and a pen.
Julio wrote a few hurried lines—
“I didn't mean it, Lawrence dear.
1 want you to come back to me.
•please ring me in ’ the morning,—
^rulle.”
It was a relief to liave written
fthat, and she half smiled as she
<ltought how unnecessary it was to
Ibave added those last words. He
-would not ring her, he would come
jU^ouiid, she was .sure, he would come]
very early, perhaps even tonight if
he was back in time, and then in
the morning they would go away and
make some sort' of happiness to
gether.
Julie tried hard not to think be
yond tomorrow, but although .she
was so tired, and felt ready to drop,
she could not sleep. She lay awake
for hours listening to every sound.
In the early morning Julie dozed
off to sleep, only waking when she
heard the maid let herself into the
flat and move about in the kitchen
lighting the fire.
Presently she brought tea and a
note. “It was lying on the mat when
I came in, Miss.”
Julie glanced at the handwriting
then sat up, her .pulses jerking. It
was from Lawrence Schofield. She
was conscious *of a warm glow of
pleasure.
He loved her—it was something
to be happy about in a world that
held no real happiness. He must
have brought it himself late last
night. Perhaps, after all, it had
been his footstep -out side which she
had heard.
She broke open the seal, the en
velope felt unusually .bulky, she
drew out its contents—her own note
which she had written last night in
the hotel lounge, torn across and
across into minute pieces. That was
all.
* ♦ «
When Giles Chittenham ,got back
to his mother’s house she met him
in the hall.
“Your wife has (been asking for
you all the evening. I said I would
send, you up as soon as you came in.”
As he went upstairs he could hear
Sadie’s voice, high-pitched and hy
sterical, and he stopped -for a mom
ent, hit hand clutching the stair -rail,
a terrible sense of loss and irrevoc
able fate gripping his heart.
When she heard Chittenham’s
voice, she turned, her head towards
the door, and stared at him with her
wild blind eyes.
“So you’ve come at last, have you?’
she shrilled at him, “I suppose you
have no use for me either, now I
can’t see.”
She beat her hands frantically on
the brass rail, and the nurse who
had, been standing beside her, caught
and held them.
.Sadie burst into wild sobbing.
“There’s no hope for me, I know
that I shall never see again as long
as I live. I shall just sit here in the
darkness till I die—till I die—-and
nobody cares—it doesn’t matter -to
anyone in all the world what be
comes of me.”
Giles crossed the room and touch
ed her shoulder. “(Sadie—”
IShe checked her .sobbing with a
sharp, breath, and raised, her face
with pathetic eagerness to hear what
he had to say. 'She tore her hands
from the nurse’s -grasp, and groped
in front of her till she .touched Chit
tenham’s coat, then she clutched it
feverishly and began .sobbing once
more.
“Don’t leave me, Giles—be kind
;o me—after all, I am your wife—”
Chittenham looked at the nurse.
“Please leave us.”
When she had gone, he sat' down
beside his wife and put an arm
round her.
“Sadie—you must try ' and be
brave and listen to reason. Every
thing possible is being done to help
you, you know that.”
Sadie was sobbing again.
“You really don’t car^ for me—
nobody care for me. Though I can’t
see you I know .by the feel of your
arm that you’re just trying to be
'k'ind, while all the time you’re im
patient' and want to get away—”
“Don’t leave me alone, Giles. You
don’t know what it’s like to -be left
alone in this hideous darkness. I
shall go mad if you leave me. I’ve
often felt impatient' with blind
people—it’s b'ored me to have to talk
to them and try and be nice to them;
but I know what’s it’s like now, and
I wish I’d been kinder. I suppose
it’s my punishment—and yet why
should I be punished? I’ve never
done any harm—”
“:My dear, I want to be kind to
you, but you make it so difficult for
me-—”
'There whs a little silence, which
Sadie broke pitifully:“fthere! I’m not crying any more.
I’m quite- quiet now—-please kiss me,
Giles.”
He kissed her affectionately
enough, his heart torn with pity.
“You didn’t kiss my lips,” Sadie
said—then she laughed brokenly.
“Never mind! I suppose it’s all I
deserve.”
-She took her hands away from
him and folded them in her lap to
hide theii’ trembling.
“Well-—” she said after a moment
as he did not speak. “What am I
going to do? Or what are you go
ing to d.o with me? I can’t stay
here, can I?”
Giles explained as gently as he
could,
"in the morning t will take you
away,” >
She interrupted quickly:
“Where will you take me? To
live with you?”
"Not at once. To a nursing home
I have arranged for a specialist to
see—”
She- Interrupted again:
"It will be of no use. I know. I’m
finished.”
“Don’t' say that, iSadie.”
.Sihe shuddered from head to foot.
“Well, go -on—and 'afterwards?
What then?”
“Then we must See, We must
make arrangements.”
“Arrangements! for what? For
me to be led about iby a nurse or a
dog for the rest of my life?” Her
;ter|ri|ble, hysterical sobbing 'begfan
afresh.
Chittenham felt that he could bear
no more. He 'called to the nurse
and made his escape. His nerves
were shaking as he went downstairs.
He had never imagined anything so
tragic as this last half hour.
He paced up and.d-own the library,
at his wit’s end to know what to id.o.
It was long past eleven and he had
all the night to drag through.
If there \vas indeed no hope of
Sadie ever being able to see again,
how could he possibly leave her?
It' would, be inhuman, impossible,
and yet to live with her—
Another knock at the -door,
■Chittenham turned impatiently.,
“Oh, come in, come in.”
“A igentelman to see you, .Sir. I
said you were very, much engaged
and could see no one, but he insisted
-Sir, and. .says he will wait if he has
to wait all night. The gentleman is
Mr. Schofield, sir.”
“.Schofield!” The colour rushed
to Chittenham’s drawn face.
■Schofield! the man whom Julie
had said she would marry.
Chittenham was across the room
in a stride.
“Is there anything the matter—
■Miss Farrow—”
In his desperate anxiety -Giles for
got that this man in all probability
knew nothing of his relations with
Julie—and when he did not immed
iately reply, he broke out again very
hoarsely.
“If anything is wrong—”
“That all depends who you mean
by '‘wrong,’ ” Schofield answered
slowly.
“Yesterday evening I had the
doubtful honour of a visit from a
man named Lombard. I have met
him before—-usually, I believe in
your company. I .think I am right
in assuming that he is a friend -of
yours?”
“Hg^was—.yes.”
“Yes,” he said, still in that level,
unnatural voice—“I believe there
has been a little upset between you
—a question of money—or should,
we call it the price of a woman’s
honour?”
There was a tragic silence. Chit
tenham’s hands were' -clenched be
hind his back—and his face was
grim.
“Perhaps you, would like me to
explain, Mr. Chittenham,” Schofield
went on, and now every sneering
word was a studied insult, “or will
it be sufficient if I just call you the
cad andi the blackguard which .1
know you to be?”
“I can only conclude that you are
drunk,” .said Giles, sharply, “and
that being so, the kindest thing I
can do is to ring and have you
shown out of the house.”
He took a step towards the bell,
but Schofield was too quick for him
“That won’t do,” he said thickly.
“I’ve .seen that trick tried before..
I’m not drunk and you damn .well
know I’m not. You’re a younger
man than I am, .Chittenham, but I
spoilt Lombard’s beauty for him last
night—he won’t show his face
amongst decent people again for
some time to come, and I’ll spoil
yours if I—”
Chittenham caught his- upraised
arm and held it' in a grip of steel.
“Don’t be a damned fool,” he said
roughly, “you’re no match for me,
and you know you’re not. If you’ve
got anything to say, say it and be
done. As far as Lombard goes, if
you have given him a thrashing I’m
in your debt, I owe him one myself M
He released (Schofield’s arm, at
the same time giving him a little
push away from him, and, for a mom
ent the two men glared at one an
other silently, then Schofield 'broke
down. He groped towards • a chair
and fell into it, hiding his face with;
his clenched hands. Giles watched
him a moment without speaking,-
then he brought whiskey and soda
from a side table.
“Help yourself,” he said, “If you
have got anything against me, let’s
talk it out sensibly, instead of fly
ing at one another’s throats like wild
beasts. I know what Lombard told
you—-he tried his blackmailing game
on me, and when he found it was
no use he threatened to go to you.
Good God, Schofield, what sort of a
fool are you to believe a lying hound
like that?” * ,
Schofield raised, his haggard face.
“What reason have I to disbelieve
it?” he asked sullenly.
Giles shrugged his shoulders.
“Isn’t your knowledge of Miss
Farrow the best of all reasons?”
Schtield. rose to his feet and began
pacing up and down.
“Lombard was so sure—he had
got every -detail of the story—that
you and JuHe spent -the night to
gether at the St. Bernard Hostel—”
“Sio we did, It was impossible to
get hVme, If all such unforeseen
sitautious are given the same vile
interpretations as you have given to
this—”
Schofield’s face flamed suddenly
crimson.
“But I believe it’” shouted Lom
bard. “I’ve always known that she
was unhappy, She has1 hinted at
trouble again and again, The reck
less way she talks—all that pretend
ed gaiety. It's never really deceiv
ed me, though for her sake I've let
her think it has—Lombard liadi the
whole story pat. He even spoke of
your brother’s relations with Julie's
cousin—and of hjg suicide. He said
that you mistook Julie for her cous
in—he said that you intended pun
ishing her for the way she treated
your brother—lie said that when you
come back from St. Bernard you
boasted to him of the easy conquest
you had made—”
He never finished his sentence for
Chittenham’s hands were at his
throat, shaking him like a rat, al
most choking him—
“By God—you dare say that to
me—you talk of Lombard! how
much better are you? Believing
the first foul lies that' come to you
about a woman you’re supposed to
care for! You’re not worth- a
thrashing—get out, that’s all I’ve
got to say to you—”
Still keeping one hand, on Scho
field, Chittenham dragged him to
the door and flung it open—shout
ing to one of the servants: “James,
this gentleman out, and if he re
fuses to go send for the police.”
He released Schofield, so, violently
that' he almost fell. He ^waited a
moment—then went back to the lib
rary, shutting the door behind him.
He was shaking from head to foot
with uncontrollable passion, and his
face and head were burning.
‘That any man should, dare to ac
cuse him of such a thing—and to
Julie of all people—the woman he-
adored! ...
And again Chittenham lost him
self in the thought of that night on
St. Bernard—when they had been
shut' in on all sides by storm and
snow and. tempest and he had held
Julie in his arms.
In a revulsion of -feeling he wish
ed passionately that he had made
true the almost unspeakable accusa
tion which Schofield had brought
against him.
Julie would hav-e been his then for
ever—body and soul, and nothing
could have altered it.
(To be continued)
-------------------------£
AN APPRECIATION
Rev. W. Whitesides, andi Mr. J.. H.
Leonard, of Toronto have completed
al very successful mission in Elim-
ville church. The benefit of these
meetings has been very great and re
ligion has been the subject of con
versation everywhere during their
stay here. They have both had many
years of experience in the work and
their, quiet, unassuming manner has
made them many loyal friends.
Their visits to the homes of the
people of the neighborhood have
been much appreciated. In his ser
mons (Mr. Whitesides uses plain,
simple language dpt illustrations
and1 clear cut remarks which drive
home truths which cannot be evaded
Time passes rapidly while listening
to him. On all his addresses he has
not made one disparaging remark
about any other church or denomin
ation. He works solely for the ad
vancement of the Kingdom of God
not for one particular church.
The spiritual singing in the song
services led by Mr. Leonard has
been a pleasure and the singing by
M'essrs Whitesides and Leonard are
no small part of their meetings. The
sweet strong voices heard in duet
or solos to the accompaniment on
banjo or guitar played by the skill
ful hand of Mr. Whitesides held
their aundience as under a spell.
Over seventy-five have made the
great Decision through their influ
ence. Abounding faith and prayer
is the keynote of such success. Ma'ny
have had their faith, restored and
fresh zeal to carry on the work has
begun and help those whose courses
have been turned in another direct
ion and whose perspective on life
has been charged. New interest has
been aroused in the futhering of the
Kingdom. A more tolerant spirit
perm'eates the community for;
There’s so, much good! .in the worst
of us,
There’s so much bad in the best of
us,
It hardly behooves any of us,*
'Do talk about the rest of us.
There’s no douibt that these tal
ented men could be making more
money in other fields- of labour but
their joy in their work is aibly ex
pressed in a chorus they have com
posed and often sing in their meet
ings.
It’s a good thing to b'e a Christian
It’s the best thing I know,
It’s a good, thing to be a Christian,
Wherever you may go;
So it’s good-bye sin and satan,
Good-bye all that’s bad,
It’s a. real good thing to be a Christ
ian,
One who attended
CLANDEBOYE
The sugar beet harvest was barely
finished in this section
cent snowfall. Forty-
q£ beets were shipped
boye station, 35 going
before the re-
two 'carloads
from Clande-
to the Domin
ion Company and 7 to Columbia. The
largest individual grower in the lo
cality was E. Hodgson, whose 75
acres yielded 375 tons of beets. The
unfavorable season made a
yieldi than was hoped for,
sugar content is better than
pected.
ENGINEER AT 72 1
HALE AND HEARTY)
“I suffered with a disordered
stomach that kept me weak and Uftr
set all the time. My appetite
’way off’ and I was troubled cqntit^
smaller
but the
was ex
The huge new kiln at the St. Marys
Cement plant which has been under
construction for about a year, is now
fiislied and is being operated. The
new kiln, which is the shape of a
lead pencil is 3'50 feet long and its
inside diameter is 10 feet 8 inches.
The steel -plate of which it is made
The kiln is sup
ported on five immense foundations
of- cement, each ‘sunk to a point 11
feet’ below ground, and is tilted half
an inch to the foot, one end being
•fifteen feet higher than the other,
It is on ball bearings and can be
revolved by hand when empty and
off gear. It took ten carloads
brick to line the kiln. v
is an inch thick.
of
inA survey is planned to discover
which state women have greatest
rights. Speaking off-hand we’ll say
the state of matrimony.
This is a good time tevf ill
up your coal bin with
D. L. & W. /
Scranton Coal
W>It WITH
“OT^O” oke
PRICES
A.J.
Phone 12
GRANTON. ONTARIO
WORTHY
/LIAM WHITAKER
eonstipa^on. Five bottle^ually wit
of .Sargoi
and stron
have a ifi
ach is in
was in myjjife.
hearty!
“I don'
that will
Sargon Pills.’
retired Canadian Pacific Engineer,;
who lives at 616 1st .St., S., Kenora,,.
Ontario.
Sargon may be obtained in Exeter:
at W. S. Howey’s Drugstore.
Advertisement
have bur ape up as welii
1 10 years ago. I
e and my stom-
sliape as it ever;
72' I’m.hale andj
there’s- anything?
the bowels like!'
-William Whitaker,,
THE LATE MRS. RICH. BAILEY
There passed away in the General
and Marine Hospital, Goderich, on.
Friday, November 21st, another
highly respected resident qf Bay-
field in the person of Mary Cleave,
widow of the late Richard Bailey in
her 83rd year. Besides her three-
sons she is survived by her sister
and two brothers.
TIMES-ADVOCATE
ALL ABOARD FOR SOUTH AMERICA
—/ in, Christmas Greeting
very reasonableAprice, we can supply you with an.
beautiful cardsffi’n boxes of 15 and 25, one of each
ORDER EARLY
THE first passenger ship ever to leave a Canadian port fonSouth America—the
, new Canadian National liner Prince Robert—sails from Halifax on March 2
rf,
Something different
.......... ........... ""' J-1''—r
We have on display something new
Cards. At a
assortment of
kind, with fancy lined envejppe and name printed on each card'i.
BOX Q 15 COMPLETE $2.00.
BOX OF 25 COMPLETE $2.50 OR $1.50 PER DOZEN.
We also have inJTtock a fine assortment' of cards eo'm'plet/e-with
lined envelopes and^hame printed for $1.00 per dozen.
We invite yg| to come in at your earliest convenience' aad! see
our selction,
W'*'
I
!' Si-??:®:::® ■ :.
■ V
i. ,
with a party of Canadian trade delegates, their wives and others pleasure bottnd
rhe Canadians will visit several Latin-American countries. Special-attention
will be paid to DUehos Aires, capital of the Argentine, where the Prince of Wales-
wi. VP6”.?. British Empire Fair which will spread over 25 acres of ground and
which will include a handsome Canadian pavilion and seven other Empire show
buildings. Pictured here are Angus McLean, president of the Canadian Chamber
of Commerce, pointing to the Prince Robert’s chief port of call, and Elmer Davis
president of the Canadian Manufacturers’ Association. These two organization^
and the Canadian Government are responsible for Canada’s part at the fair
one of the largest of its kind ever held in the world. Both Mr. Davis and Mr’
McLean and their wives will make the trip.