The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1924-05-02


unlit by her side. There was a touch
Of the old horror upon her face. The
fingers which he drew into his were as
cold as ice.
"You must have wondered some
times" she began, why I ever mar
ried Oliver Hilditch."
"You were very young" he remind
ed her, with little shiver, land very
inexperienced. 1 suppose he appealed
to you in some way or another"
ut wasn't that" she replied. "He
came to visit me at Eastbourne. and
he certainly knew all the tricks Of
making himself attractive and agree
able. But he never won my heart
he never even seriously took my fancy.
married him because / believed that
by doing so was obeying my fathers
Wishes"
"Where was your father at the
time, thenY Francis asked.
''In South America. Oliver Hilditch
was nothing more than discharged
employee of his, discharged for dis
honesty. He had to leave South Amer.
lea within a week to escape prosecu-
ton, and on the way to Europe he
concocted the plot which very nearly
ruined my life. He forged a letter
from my father, begging me. If found
it in any way possible, to listen to OIL
yer Hilditch's proposals, and limiting
guardedly at very serious financial
crisis which It was in his power to
avert. 1t never occurred to me or to
my chaperon to question his bona fides
He had lived under the same roof as
my father, and knew all the intimate
details of his life. He was very clever
and suppose I was fool. remem-
Der thinking was doing quite heroic
action when / went to the registrar
with him. What it led to you know"
There was a moments throbbing
silence. Francis, Notwithstanding his
deep pity, was conscious Of an over
whelming sensation of relief. She had
never cared for Oliver Hilditch! She
had never pretended to! He put the
thought into words.
"You never cared for him, them"
II tried to-" she replied simply, "but
/ found it impossible. Within week
Of our marriage l hated him."
Francis leaned back, his eyes half
closed. In his ears was the sonorous
roar Of Piccadilly. the hooting of mo-
torcars, close at hand the rustling Of
a faint wind in the elm trees. 1t was
a wonderful moment. The nightmare
with which he had grappled so fiercely,
which he had overthrow, but whose
ghost still sometimes walked by his
side, had lost its chief and most
poignant terror. She had been tricked
into the marriage. She had never
cared or pretended. to care. The pri-
NAL horror of that tragedy which he
had figured so often to himself, seemed
to have departed with the thought. Its
shadow must always remain, but in
time his conscience would acquiesce
in the pronouncement of his reason. 1t
was the hand Of justice, not any hui
man hand, which had slain Oliver Hill
ditch.
"What did your father say when he
discovered the truth?" he asked.
''He did not know it until he came
TO England on the day that Oliver Hill
ditch was acquitted. My husband
always pretended that he had a spe-
cial mail bag going out to South Amer
lea, so he took away all the letters
wrote to my father, and he took care
that received none except one or two
which l know now are forgeries. He
had friends in South America himself
who helped him-one typist in my
fathers office, of whom 1 discovered
afterwards-but that really doesn't
matter. He was q wonderful master
of deceit"
Francis suddenly took her hands.
He had an overwhelming desire to
escape from the miasma Of those ugly
days, with their train Of attendant
thoughts and specula:ions.
"Let us talk about ourselves" he
whispered.
Presently they saw Sir TimOthy's
Rolls-Royce glide up to the front door
below and Sir Timothy himself enter
the house, followed by another man
whose appearance was somehow IA
miliar.
There was a knock at the door.
Hedges made his diffident appearance.
81 beg your pardon. sir" he began.
addressing Francis. "Sir Timothy has
been asking if you are still here. He
would be very glad If you could spare
him moment in the library"
Francis rose at once to his feet.
II was just leaving" he said. II
will look in at the library and see Sir
Timothy on my way OUT
Sir Timothy was standing upon the
hearthrug of the very wonderful apart
ment which he called his library.
"You asked for me, Sir Timothy"
Francis said.
Sir Timothy smiled.
II was fortunate to find that you
had not left" he answered. Il want
you to be present at this forthcoming