HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1932-10-27, Page 2THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1032
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THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE
&he jfouse of breams
Come 3rue
BY MARGARET PEDLAR
SYNOPSIS
Glyn. Peterson and his twenty-year
bld daughter Jean are dining to
gether in their home, in Beirnfels,
Austria, Glyn was of a noble Eng
lish family and against the wishes
of his family had married Jacquel
ine Mavory, the beautiful half
French opera singer. They had liv
ed very happily together travelling
around when they so desired but
always returning to Beirnfels. One
year ago Jacqueline had died and
Glyn can stand it no longer, he
is going away somewhere just
wandering, and has made arrange
ments for Jean to visit his old
friend Lady Anne Brennan, in
England. Jean remains at Mon-
tavan awaiting a reply from Lady
Anne. She meets an Englishman
and spends the day at his cabin
on the side of the mountain in
the pine woods. When she goes
to visit England this Englishman
meets
proves
her at • the station and
to be a son of Lady Anne.
CHAPTER XXII
women besides Jean found
His
dis
and
the
the
ately avoided being alone with her.1
On the second day, however, as
luck would have it, she encounter
ed him in the corridor just outside
her own sitting-room, He was
striding blindly along, obviously not
heeding where he was going, and
had almost collided with her before
he realised that she was there.
He jerked himself backwards.
“I beg your pardon,” he muttered
still without looking at her, and I
made as though to pass on. j
Jean checked him with a hand on
his sleeve. She had not watched
the dogged sullenness of his face
throughout yesterday to no purpose
and now, her swift gaze searched
it anew, she felt convinced that
something fresh had occurred to stir
him. It was impossible for Jean to
see a friend in trouble without
wanting to "stand by.”
"Nick, old thing, what’s wrong?”
she asked.
He stared at her unseeingly.
"Wrong?” he muttered. "Wrong?”
"Yes. 'Come in here and let’s talk
it out—whatever it is.” With
gentle insistence she drew him into
her sitting-room. "Now,” she said
when she had established him in an
easy-chair by the open window and
herself in another, “what’s gone
wrong? Are you still boiling over
about that trick Sir Adrian played
on Claire the day of the picnic?” ,
She spoke lightly—more lightly - ^ess-
than the occasion warranted—of set, *s
well merited
And Jean was
rule.
some genuine
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that she enjoyed the process of bes
ing grilled! No, Nick, it’s up to you
-—to just go on helping to make her
life bearable, as you have done for
the 'past years.”
"It’s asking too imjch of me, Jean
Nick spoke a little thickly. He
was up against one of man’s most
primitive instincts—the instinct to
protect and comfort and cherish the
woman he loved.
"I know. It’s asking everything
of you.”
Jean waited.
had gained a certain
of ground—that Nick’s
had weakened a little in
her pleading, but she
drive him too far. She
could hear steps crossing the hall
below. If someone should come up
stairs and disturb them now, while
things were ..still trembling in the
balance------
"See, Nick,” she began to speak
again hurriedly. "You believe I’m
your pal—yours and, Claire’s?”
‘I know it,’ he replied quietly,
“And—and you do care a
about me?”—smiling a little.
"You’re the third woman in
world, Jean. After Claire and
mother.”
"Then, to please me—for nothing
else in the world, if you like, but be
cause I ask
stay as they
longer? Just
We’re going
That’ll make a break—bring
back, to a caliper,
outlook on things.
Sir Adrian may never strike Claire
again. And it wouldn’t be fair—
■just now, at a time when she is feel
ing horribly bitter and humiliated
from that—that insult—to ask her
to go away with you. Give her a
fair chance to decide a big question
like that when things are at theii
normal level—not when they arc
worse than Usual. To. ask her now
would be to take advantage of the
feeling she must have, just at thif
moment, that her life is unbearable
It wouldn’t be playing the game.”
He made no answer, ‘and Jean
waited with increasing trepidation.
■Sihe was sure now that she could
hear footsteps. Someone had mount
ed the stairs and was coming along
the corridor towards her room.
“Nick!” The low, agitated whis
per burst from her as the steps halt
ed outside her door, "Promise me!”
It seemed an eternity before he
answered.
"Very well. I promise. You’ve
won for the moment—‘.Saint Jean’
He smiled at her, rather sadly
Before she could reply, Blaise’s
voice sounded outside the door, ask
ing iff he might come in, and with a
feeling of intense relief that the
battle was won for the moment';
Jean gave the required permission.
As his brother entered the room
Nick quitted ’ it, brushing past him
abrup^y.
Tormarin’s eyes questioned Jean’s
"We' have been discussing -Sir
Adrian,” she explained, as the door
closed behind Nick. "And—and
Claire.”
He nodded comprehendjngly.
"Poor old Nick!” he said. "It’S,
damned tough pn him. Latimer
ought to be carefully and quietly
chloroformed out of' the way. He’s
as much a menace to society as a i
She felt that she
amount oi
. resolution
response to
feared to
fancied she
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mad dog.”
Jean sighed.
"I’m afraid they’re very unhappy
—Nick and Claire.”
‘‘I wondei^Clhire doesn’t chuck her
husband,” said Blaise; "And take
: whatever of happiness she can
out of the world.”
Jean shock her head,
(Continued next week.)
love. It—it as sacrilege.
"And won’t it bet—another
of sacrilege—if you take her
with you, Nick?” asked Jean
quietly.
He flushed dully.
"He’ll divorce her ,and then we
shall marry,” he answered.
"Even so”—steadily—"it would
he doing evil that good- may come.”
“Then we’ll do ’
‘It’s easy enough
there moralising,
and comfortable,
borne all we can.
enOugh to care as
other, and to live
it means that Claire is to suffer un
speakable misery and humiliation
while I stand by and look on—why.
it’s beyond human endurance. You
’re hot tempted. You’ve no concep
tion what you’re talking about.
Jean sat very still and silent
while Nick stormed out the bitter
ness of sould recognising the truth
of every word he uttered—even of
the gibes, which, in the heedlessness
of his. own pain, he flung at herself.
Presently she g'ot up and moved
rather slowly across to his side.
"Nick,” she said, and here eyes
^looking into his, were very bright
and clear and steady. Somehow for
’ Nick they held the semblance of
I two flames, torches of pure light
| burning unflickeringly in the dark-
"Nick, every word you say
______ ________ _ I’m hot tempted as you
purpose, hoping to reduce the ten- an(^ Claire have been, and so, it:
sion under which Nick, was obvious- • see'ms sheer cheek my interfering
But I'm only asking you to do what
I pray I’d be strong' enough to de
myself in like circumstances. I
don’t believe any true happiness can
ever come of running away from
duty. And if ever I’m up against
such a thing—a choice like this— I
hope to God I’d be able to hang on
. . to run straight,- eVen if it
half-killed me to do it.”
1 The quick, iiftpassioned utterance
ceased, and half shrinkingly Jean
realised that she had spoken out of
the depths of her soul, crystallising
in so many, words the _ uttermost
ideal and credo of her being. In,
some strange, indefinable fashion -it
was borne in fin her that she had
reached an epoch in her life. It
was as when a musician, arrived at
the end of a musical period, strikes
a chord which hQl^s the keynote oi
the ensuing passage.
"She faltered and looked at Nick be
seechingly, suddenly self-conscious
as we most of us are when we find
we have laid bare a bit ,ol' our in
most soul to the possibly mocking
eyes of a fellow human being.
But Nick’s eyes were not in the
lea.St mocking.
Instead of that, some of the hard-
mess seemed to have gone' out oi
them, and his voice was very gentle
I as, taking Jean’s two hands in his
he answered:
"I believe you would run straight
little Jean—even if it meant tearing
your heart out of your body to de
it. But, you know, you’re always
I on the side of the angels—instinct-
’ ively.
erage
fuilly-
down and sit on the ground in a
heap when I think of what my. girl’s
enduring as Latimer’s wife,
lieve I might stick my part
business—but I can’t stick
her.”
"And yet,” urged Jean, "if
away together, Nick, it’s she who’ll
pay, you know,
does.
Adrian
to? It
punish
Claire—
"He would divorce her,” protest
ed Nick harshly..
Jean shook her head.
"I don’t think so. Honestly, I be
lieve he would get undiluted satis
faction out of the fact that, as long
as lie lived, he could stand between
Claire and everything that a normal
woman wants—Home, and a shelter
ed lire, and the knowledge that no
one can ’say things’ abbut her. Ch.
Nick! Between you—you. and Sir
Adrian—you’d make an outcast of
Claire, make her life a worse hell
With you than it is Without you.”
She paused, then went on more
quietly: "Have you said anything to
her about this—-told her what you
want het to do?”
‘No, not yet—not definitely.”
Jean breathed a sign of relief. .
"Then don’t!
won’t, Nick?”
"She might refuse, after all,” he
suggested, evading the question.
"Refuse! You know her better
than that. If you wanted Claire to
make a burnt*offeting of herself for
youir benefit to-morrow, you know
she'd do> ft! And—and”—laughing
a little hysterically—"pretend,, too
kind
away
very
get
Member of The Canadian Weekly
Newspaper Association
it”—savagely,
for you to sit
perfectly placid
Claire and I have
It has been bad
we care for each
apart. But when it—.will you let
are for a few
that little while,
to London next
bif
my
my
things
weeks
Nick?
week
us all
more everyday
Will you wait?
KEMPTON—COLLING
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marriage at the home of her sister.
Mrs. Duncan McTavisli, to Thomas
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can McTavish, -brother-in-law of the
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with- matching accessories. After a
wedding dinner Mr. and Mrs. Kemp
ton left by motor for points east, the
bride travelling in wine-colored dia
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THAMES^ ROAD
MISSION CIRCLE
o (Intended for last week)
The monthly meeting of Thames
Road Mission Circle met on ,.Satur-
day, October 15th at the home of
Miss Mary Kerslake. The meeting
opened with the president in the
chair, by singing of hymn 5 90. The
devotional exercises were given by
Alma Etheruigton, The next meet
will be held November 19th in the
basement of the church where the
Circle will make scrapbooks ’tor
Christinas cheer. A report of Pres-
byterial • convention was given by
Alma Eetherington. The topic was
given by Miss Baxer followed by a
duet by Helen and Ann Morgan.
Mrs. Kydd gave a very interesting
talk1 on Missions. After a contest
meeting was closed by Mizpah Bene-
dicion.
ly labouring. His face hu’rt her.
The familiar lazy insouciance which
was half its charm was blotted opt
of it by some heavy cloud of tragic
significance. He looked as though
he had not slept for days, and his
eyes, the gaiety burnt out of them
by pain, seemed sunken in his head
He stared at her blankly for a
moment. Then he seemed to awaken
to the meaning of her question.
"No,” he said slowly. “No. The
boiling over part is done with—fin
ished . . . I’m going to take her
away from him.” *
He spoke with a curious precision,
It frightened Jean far more’than any
impetuous outburst of anger could
have done. She made no answer
for a moment, tbut her mind work
ed rapidly. She did not .doubt the
absolute sincerity of his intention
This was no mere reckless boast of
an angry lover, but the sane, consid
ered aim and object of
has come, by way of
agony of thwarting, to
urination.
"Do you mean that,
asked at last, to gain time.
“Do I mean it?” he laughed. Then
his hands pripped the arms -of the
chair and he leaned forward. “>J
.saw her—last evening after dinner
. . . Her shoulder was black.”
A sharp cry broke from Jean’s
lips.
"Not—not-
Nick
"He
Dr. G. F. Roulston, L.D.S.,D.D.S.
DENTIST
Other
it equally difficult to resist,
sheer virilityf^with its splendid
regard for other peoples claims
its conscienceless belief that
battle should assuredly be to
strong, earned him forgiveness
where, .for misdeeds not half so flag
rant, a less imperious sinner would
have been promptly shown the dqpr
But no woman—hot even the .wo
men to whom he had made o love
without the excuse of loving—had
ever shown Burke.the door or given
him the kind of treatment which
he had thoroughly
twenty times over,
no exception to the
At least he had
claim or her forgiveness—the claim
of a love which had swept through
his very being like a
fierce passion, of a man
love means adoration,
above all, possession.
And what woman can
remain- righteously angry
man who loves tier-
offence is the outcome of the over
mastering quality of that love? Very
few, and certainly none who was sc
very much a womgn, so essentially
feminine as Jean.
It was in a very
which she endeavored ..
ily detached, that she at last broke
the silence which had reigned foi
the last six miles or so.
"I suppose I shall have to forgive
you—more or less. One can’t ex
actly quarrel with one’s'' next
neighbor.”
Burke smiled grimly.
"Can’t one?”
"Well, there’s Judith to be con
sidered.”
A rather curious expression came
into his eyes.
“Yes,” he agreed. "There’s Ju
dith to be considered.” There was
a hint of irony in the dry tones.
"It would complicate matters
were not on speaking terms with
brother,” pursued Jean.
.She waited for his answer,
none came. The threatened possi
bility contained in her speech ap
peared to have fallen dn deaf ears
and the silence seemed likly to con
tinue indefinitely.
"You might, at least, say yo'ti are
sorry for—for-----”
MFor kissing you?”—swiftly.
"Yes”—flushing a little.
"But I’m not. Kissing
with deliberation—“is one
things I shall never regret,
come to my peace with Heaven and
repent in sackcloth and ashes for
my sins of omission and commission
I shan’t include this afternoon in the i “Can you suggest a better?” Then,
Office: Carling Block
EXETER, ONT.
Closed Wednesday Afternoon
flame, |the
to whom
worship—
ever long
with a
■and whose very
small voice
to make air
dooi
if„ 1
he i
bu1
you”—
of the
When 1
a man wnc
some long
a set deter-•k
Nick?” she
■he hadn’t------”
nodded.
struck her. There was one
of the usual scenes when they got
back from the Moor—and he struck
her . . . It’s the first time he has
ever actually laid hands on her. It’s
#going to be the last”—grimry.
Jean was silent, Her whole soul
was in revolt against the half-mad:
drug ridden creature who was mak
ing Claire’s life a daily martyrdom;
the instinct 4o protect her, to suc
cour
self
And
way
her in some way, asserting it-
with almost passionate
yet-----jShe knew that
was not the right way.
"Yes, it must be the last
she agreed. "But—but, Nick, your
plan won’t do, you know.”
Nick stiffened.
"I think not?” he said curtly.
force.
Nick’s
time,”
I’m only a man—just an av-
earthy man”—smiling rue-
■"and my ideals all tumble
I be-
of the
it for
you gc
The woman always
■Supposing — supposing Sir
doesn’t divorce her—^refuses
would be just like him to
her that way. What about
-then?”
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list, I assure you. It was worth it
-^if I pay for it afterWards in hell.’
He was silent a moment. Then:
"But I’ll promise you one, thing
I’ll never kiss you again till
give me your lips yourself.”
Jean smiled at the characteristic
speech. She supposed this
near an apology as Burke
ever get,
«i
blind composedly,
never do that.”
He flicked the
with the whip.
"I think, you will,” he said "I
think”*—he looked at her somewhat
enigmatically—"that you will give
me everything I want-some day/
CHAPTER XXIII
On the Side Of the Angels
throughout the day following the
the expedition to Dartmoor, Nick
seemed determined tn keep out of
Jean’s way. it was as though he-
feared she might force some confi
dence from him that he was loth tc
give, and, in consequence, delibc*"
you
was as
would
That**s nil right, then,”
"Because I ^hal.
she re-
chestnut lightly
as Jean was miserably silent: "Nor
can I and one 1. swear—I won’t leave
the woman I love in the hands of a
man who is practically a maniac, to
be tortured day after day, mentaly
and physically, just
feels like it.”
It struck Jean as
Nick had been able,
to keep himself in hand whilst Sir
Adrian inflicted upon Claire what
ever of mental and spiritual tor
ture seemed good in his distorted
vision. It was the fact that he had
hurt her physicallyjlaid his hand up
on her In actual violence, -which
had scattered Nick’s self-control to
the four winds of heaven, TO' Jean
herself, it seemed conceivable that
the mental anguish of Claire’s mar
ried life had probably far outstrip
ped any mere bodily pain. Half
tentatively sjie gave expression to
her thoughts,
Nick sprang to hie feet.
"Good God!” he exclaimed,
you were a man, you’d understand!
I see red when I think of that dam
ned bfute striking the woman I
whenever
curious
more or
lie
that
less
"If
Promise me you
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