JOYCE MELHUISH'S MISDOINGS.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 387, 8 October 1903, Page 7

JOYCE MELHUISH'S MISDOINGS.

MELHUISH was not a welllew brought-up girl. To speah accurately, she had bad no bringing op at all. The sweet, wilful, motherless baby had grown up into the »■ juillj sweet and wiJful young woman simply and solely by the light of nature, and without any of those salutary restraints and disciplines which are considered indispensable to the training ef the weaker and fairer sex. There had, in fact, been no one to undertake this training—no one to correct her defects and develop her equalities; that is to say, no one except her father, and what was Colonel Stuart Melhuish likely to do for a pretty daughter beyond spoiling her when he was disposed lomake =a plaything of her, and neglecting her utterly when other less innocent pastimes engrossed bim? So it goes without saying, that poor Joyce was fall of faults —faults of which, so far from being ashamed, she w&s not even aware, until she came to live with her maternal grandfather, Dt. Hepburn, in tie quiet old -Lowlandehire town of Fenborough. Fenborough is apt to look suspiciously ut anything which oversteps the narrow ■boundary of its every-day experiencs. -Joyce Melhuish was decidedly an innovation, besides which she embodied an unpleasant complication of circumstances; and felt justified in expressing surprise that the Hepburns should so far forget what was due to themselves, to the family at Fenborough Towers, and to society in general, as to offer a home to the orphan child of their disowned daughter.

Perhaps no one felt more surprise in the matter than the good old doctor himself, not was any one more fally alive to the delicacy of the position in which he waa placing himself with Lady Penborough ; but his part in the prelude to Joyce's coming had not been qnite spontaneous—it had been thrust upon him rather against his own judgement bj his junior partner, Gabriel Lang. • Lang is such a fellow,' the old man was wont to say, ' he gets hold of such •jueer notions, and though he doesn't exactly persnade you, still, you find yourself doing what he wants you to. And yet I always ask his advice.' Dr. Lang's advice on this particular

point had been asked one morning when the partner met in Dr. Hepburn's sanctum for their usual discussion of the days programme. Oa this occasion, after keeping his junior waiting for a quarter of as hour, the elder man appeared wiih an open letter in his hand, and a look of worry on bis face.

he said as he shut the door carf fully, • what do yon think ? I've had « ,t lt< ? r . flom m 7 grand-daughter, Joyce Melhnish.' *

Dr. Lang looked at the letter; he saw bl k B wntten on pa P er d^P l ! edged with

* And there ia bad news in it ?' he said interrogatively. • Bad news! I should think so! Whj, Bho writes to say that her father ia dead.' n/,u * d J. cried L * fl e- 'Dartl Stuart Melhuish dead ?'

' Yes,' repiied the other irritably. «I don't know why he shouJda'v. die. He was an old man, and he'd lived a rackety life. He died on Monday at some place on the Riviera, where no doubt there ia a gambling he)t' * And what is to become of the child ?' asked Lang. •She isn't a child,' retorted the old man, still more irritably,' she's nineteen. Well, she'B absolutely penniless. What he baa left will barely psy bis debts. Here, you can read her letter and see for yourself.

Dc. Lang took the letter, and read it slowly several times, while Dr. Hepburn watched bim axiously. . ' Bad case, isn't it ?' he Baid at last. 'lt is,' said Lang; ' and I s appose you will (tier her a home ?' • A home, my good fellow! I offer a home to Stuart Melhuish's child—here—at Penborough ?' '_My dear Hepburn,' replied the other quietly, 'you must remember, she is Sybil's chiid, too.' *I do remember it; but that makes it none the easier. Think of her ladyship's feelings.' ■ I don't see,' said Lapg gravely, • that her ladyship's feelings ean count here. Of course, she is the great personage of Penborough, and we all like to show her proper respect. Bat Joyce Melhnish is destitute; she turns to you as hernatasal protector.

* Bat, Lang/ the old man began again, ' remember the scandal there was, and the time it took to blow over; and now when people have forgotten it- ' * I Bee, interrupted Lang, 'you haven't got over the old grudge. You can't bong yourßelf to say -..' I will forgive all that I can't forget.' Of course, it isa't the first time that the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and that the children's teeth have been set on edge thereby. If Sybil did wrong, she paid for it, and really tbe wrong was in part excusable; she was blinded by the romance. The romance was soon over, and now all tbat remains of it is one weak woman to fight her way, friendless, in a hard-hearted world.' Dr. Hepburn's face had softened a little.

' You're trying to probe my weak Bpor, Lang,' he said* ' Well, I'll think it ever. But, remember, I'm like a city set on a hill, and I shall have to take the const q trances.' •There will be no constquenceß of which you need be ashamed,' said the younger man confidently; then he opened the deferred consultation on the day's business.

Dr. Hepburn was perfectly right when he said that he was as a city set on a hill, and that his doingß would be freely commented on by his neighbours. He lived—as befitted his social weight—in one of the iquare, brown stone house? which stand.on either side of.the road leading from the lower side of the road leading from the lower part of the town to the gates of Fenborcugh Park, the seat of the Earl of Fenborough. All the Fenburianß who were anybody lived in this quarter, and were invited, on rare and solemn occasions, to partake of the hospitality of Fenborcugh Towers. They were nearly all old residents, who knew one another's family history and private circumstances with an accuracy which demonstrated clearly how little business of their own they had to occupy their minds; and when the news spread abroad that Joj ce Melhuish was coming to take up her abede in her grandfather's house, the half-forgotten scandal to which he had alluded was raked up and discussed with fresh zest, and with the compound interest due to it after twenty years of comparative oblivion.

•I've no patierce with Dr. Hipburß,' said the elder Miss Stow —who was his opposite neighbour in Park Boad. " I told him he ought to have let the girl sake a situation, and he says she isn't trained for any post which a lady can take. But sorely with the knowledge of foreign languages she must hare, and her experience of travelling—seeing she has spent her life dragging all over the Continent—some one would have taken her as a travelling companion.' 'Yes, indeed*' said Miss Stow, junior. • Well, if be won't hear reason, I shouldn't wonder if be doesn't lose the practice at Fenborough Towers through his obstinacy.' 'fieally, cried Mrs Wyeth, 'you don't mean that her ladyship has said anything to him ?' 'Not that I've heard,'was the answer, ' but I shouldn't wonder if she did.' ' Bat why should the Countess interfere?' asked Mrs Lee, the new curate's wife. 'What does this Joyce Melhuish matter to her ?' (To be concluded next week.)