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Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 370, 11 June 1903, Page 2

yen have more than once suggested that yon should look oat for a situation of some kind, J have ao hesitation in offering you this position in our family, where you will be entirely one of ourselves and able to render ua considerable service.'

It was a stiff letter, bat Euphrasia Morison thought it wonderfully kind. She had quite loßt the timidity of her childhood, and expected people to be kind and 'nice' to her. It was this sweet girlish confidence, thiß perfect naturalness, without any trace of arrogance and vanity, which had made her so popular of late years at Sainte Eulalie. If any one wanted help or sympathy, ' Euphrasie' was always ready to give it She had the talent of comprehension, of pity/pf sympathetic insight, which is usually developed only late in life. Mrs Pollard had not long survived her separation from the son for whom she bad done so much. She moved into the Bed House, ar d tried to 'do her duty' to the young wife at the Firs; but thu constant struggle was too much for Doris, who fell ill at last, and caused Gilbert to request his mother not to come to the house without an invitation Mrs. Pollard never recovered fiom the blow. Her heart was weak, and after an interval of prostration bug died, alone in the Bed House, one Sunday evening, when she had sent her maid to chapel and had refused a visit from her eon Gilbert grieved a good d al over her death, and reproached hims. If for her loneliness; but a man cannot grieve for ever, even at a mother's death and Maria Pollard had not beenioneof tlose women whose children arise and cill them blessed. When she rested in the green churchyard, the works that followed her were not of a blessed kind; and the few people who remembered thought sadly and with pardoning pity her actions, but not with love.

Why did Effie think of her, as she leaned over the rail of the boat, and watched her friends on the quay disappearing into spaeeP She wondered atterwards why she suddenly thought of all the old days at the Red House and the Fire—the grey-haired Pollard and bis energetic wife, Gilbert with his quiet ways, Hedworth, laughing, uproarious, boyishly affectionate." No, she would not think of Hedworth, except in her prayers. The memory of him was still painful to her. Bat she had kept his name in her devotions, night and morning, as of one who—prodigal as he might be—was always dear. The little group on the shore was now almost out of eight, so the girl drew hereelf into an erect position and looked round at the boat and her fellow-fas-eengerß. Madame Perron had been shocked to discover that Miss Morison was expected to travel without a chaperon, but on thiß occasion she was persuaded to overlook the unconventionality of the proceeding. For, as Euphrasia laughingly pointed out. bow could she become a governess to other people's children if she were not able to take care of. herself P And, indeed, she felt a pleasant sense of independence with the crossing before her and a railway journey after thati But one thing she had forgotten, to secure for herself a deck-chair. The boat was crowded, and every available seat was occupied. In addition to her neavier luggage, Efßa bad a leather hand bag, a roll of wraps, and the in? evitable bouquet without which she could certainly not have been permitted to leave the shores of Prance. Burdened in this manner, she looked round her inquiringly and did not know how pretty a picture she presented in her perplexity. She had grown into a tall, slender girl, who held herself* remarkably well, and had the grace and distinction of bearing which we associate usually with the women who are rot English; but allied with this alien grace there was a gentle giavity and modesty in every look and movement which showed tbat no affectation lurked behind tbat fair outside.

Her face was oval, pale rather than rosy, and its beßt features were her curved mouth and large dark eyes, while her brown hair took gold reflectionsm thesunshine which were b th uncommon and beautiful.

Her dresß was plain and simple, nevertheless, there was a touch of French style about it, and a woman critic would heve commented upon its cut and fashion, while a man would only have discovered Kb excellent taste H->r hat was swathfd, after a French ratl.er than an English fashion, with a quantity of brown gauze, crossed tt the bacr, brought forward and tied under the chin in an enormous bow — oEe of the moßt becoming fashions* that ever emphasised the fairness ofAa fair young face. •Excuse me; there is a vacant chair here, if I may off r it to you/ said a vjice in her ear.

Euphrasia turned and bowed gravely. She had receiv d a long warning lecture from Madame Perron against making acquaintances—on board; but when she looked at the speaker, the was reassured, and accepted the chair with thanks, for she felt sure that he waß one of the effidale ot the boat. He had a nautical air; be wore a blue suit and cap. with gold bands and badge which she did not understand, •md he carried a telescope, with which he occasionally surveyed the land. ' Would you like to see your friends ? They are still in sight,' he said to Effie, offering her his giaßS witn (she supposed) nautical simplicity. She could not resist the opportunity ; and when the glass he d once been applied to her eye, it Beemed natural that he should stand beside her for a few moments, telling her the names of certain places on the coast now rapidly disappearing from her view. But when the glas3 had been restored with thanks. Euphrasia had time to glance once more at her companion, and to notice his height and splendid proportions, which bad already gaiced the admiration of half the people on the boat. * Wbat a magnificent-looking man !' she had already heard more than once, and wondered whether the exclamation had n« t reached his ear; but if it bad, it did not disturb his air of equanimity. He had a handsome head, thickly covered with auburn hair, a little too long for perfect 'form' in these days, and matched by a fine be«rd and moustache of almost reddish hue. His eyes, blue and steady, had |the look of the traveller, the wan derer. They- weie kind ever, too, Effie th.ught; and as-he turned away from her to speak to an acquaintance, sle said to herself:

'Now I know why I thought of tha old days just bow ! That man haß a Jo kof Hedwurth—but a far fim>r and handsomer Hedworfch than I ever knew! Yes, hie eyeß are like Hedwoith'e; and that very way of resting Mb hand on the rail ' (To be continued.)