NOVEL

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 388, 15 October 1903, Page 2

NOVEL

BY E. Roid-Matheson. COPYBIGHT

CH&PTEB XV. It was in thes9 dfya that Hebe's thoughts w?at back to the old life that

the had put so far away. What ages it -.--•seemed since she had heard the Bhonts of the extern*s, and the clatter of their feet down the worn wooden- stairs of the school-house in the Sandstrasse—since she had joined in tre Ecrimmage—mornings at ten o'clock—to buy cherries of the ugly old CTone who came to the schoolyard gale, until cn? evil day came the rude awakening that worms may lurk even in the fairest. How far away these summer tvenisgs cut of-door?, when the band played in the Saal-bau pardons over the way, and she, holding Lucy's hand, had_ aat dreaming of golden possibilities behind life'sunraised curtain. Ages, too —what ages!—since, a prey to delicious tremors, she had ascended that short flight of stone steps in the Marien graaee, har foolish soul panting to prostrate itself before the sombre personality that girlish romance had made godlike. And Hebe, turning back in thought and desire to the old life, looked by Btealth . upon a certain photograph which scme- • hew had. never been destroyed; and took again from its case tha violin which in the new lib had been almost voiceless. Bat when she p'aj cd it was for herself alone; indeed, she could not remember that her husband had ever asked to hear the violin. Truth to tell, Hopecastle's understanding of music was a scarcely appreciable quantity. He liked to see his wife at the piano in the evening, but to him music was little more than a vibration, more or less agreeable. Certainly he could recognise • God Save the Queen' and 'Acid Lang Syne * when he heard them, even joining (unrecognisably enough) ia both; but there his musical stock-in-trade was exhausted, and this lack of his, a heritage from bis mother, was but one more item in Hebe's promising collection cf grievances. Since her marriage there had practically been cessation of the grey foreign letters, and at first she had been indifferent if not relieved. But now in these days of revulsion, it was different j and feeling a need of sympathy Hebe sat down •ne day and poured out her scul in much irk upon four sheets of foreign paper.l This medium, however, naturally irate* >d upon Xabe a certs ia reservation. Orally, one is so lightly beguiled into indiiflnetnesß. Yet, though of her husband Hebe wrote as little as might be, it was that very fact that Lucy, (railing a little knowing tmile as she read, found ,so elcqiett. Hebe was evidently not unwilling to eonvey an adequate impression. cf her exalted position, writing of her doings, her sccial circle, herpossessioss in naively bcaatful strain; it all there ran a note of pessimism—very young, girlish pessimism—which curled Lucy's lip in Eccmful an ujement. Tho letter lad found Lucy a little more out of love with life than usual. It arrived by the evening mail, and she h£d read it, sitting by the tall inhospitable yellow earthenware stove in the diningi©om of Pern ijn Mitzenius.

Lucy was alone, for the pensionaires and Fraulera Klintc were not yet back fiom the Christmas vaca'bn, Mademoiselle had retired with headache, and Fiaulein Mifzenius took her evening ease privately in her easy Wohn-zimmer. One hanging lanp lighted, of three, threw a gemly moving due of shadow upon the table beneath, ard diffused a depresiing yellow light upon proximate objects, leaving the rest of the long apartment with its unlovely plenishing in not uncharitable gloom. Supper bad net yet been removed; the table-cloth a homely bit of napery not in pristine cleanliness, was spread over the topmost of the succession of email tables of unmatohing height and breadth, which represented the feßtive board cf Xc>. 20 SancUtrasse.

The plate and dishea were plain white, and unutterably solid, the common knives blacl -handled, the forks steel-pronged—-everythirg adequate enough no doubt frcm the utilitarian point of view, but se ;thetically ui apeakabie. No flowers, no trace of grace or amenity, merely the iudeet essentiajs of civilised 'decency. A few slices of ambiguous looking sausage remained upon a dish, a plate was piled *i hj the'stins of boiled potatoes, and the cregs of L»ger Bier grew stale in three Ui:* tumblers. Lucy, f.lding up her friend's letter, gave a queer little laugh that ended in a shiver; and leaning btck in her chair eeiit her eyes on a disgustedly critical tour of the dim room. 'Hideous eld gaol, how I hate you!' Then she reviewed the debris of the evening meal. * Disgusting!' ehe said, with ineffable loathing and hair-aloud. ' Any decently-bred pig would turn up his nose at it—unless he happened to have a fancy for the dead dog of commerce, which I haven't. Well, I suppose it'? all my own fault—that is what comes of leading a •respectable' life. Bespectabiliry, I begin to think, may be bought too dear; if it hadn't been for Mother I—poor old Mother! She hadn't a rosy time of it! They say my father broke her heart I suppose he was a scamp. Anyhow, he managed to enjoy life while he had it, which is wudjm—of a sort, at any rate.' She smiled bitterly. ' Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to really feel good and amiable, and not only to pretend by policy, all the while having a devil in you. And sometimes I think if I'd had half a chance I could have been—nice—and could have belisved in Gad—and all that. But virtue is a luxury for the rich; it can't b i done on J625 a year.' Lucy got up and stretched her arms tb.ve her bead; hex tearUs3 eyea shone

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ABBANaEMENT.

LADY HOPEOASTLE,

feverishly, aud upon her high cheek hones were magenta patches. • God!' she said slowly, and ticking her arms held them clasped before her. ' I have so wanted a good time and I've never had it. God, if You are there at all., make allowance and don't judge me hardly.' The girl's hot eyeß gushed out with tears; whether of remorse or selfpity, God knew.

Heavy steps c*me up the long echoing stair from the basement, but before the strong dumpy form of Kitchen, the caplees and smiling, had appeared in the doorway, the English governess sat in her chsir by the yellow stove, hummiig a snatch as she re-read her letter. Sympathetic Katchen remasked that it was 'gar zu tiasam' for 'Frauhii Streng'; and when Lucy assured her that she liked being alone best, couldn't take it in at alb Acd as with one clumsy foot she re-opened the door, and panted out with her over-loaded tray (which feat might have qualified her for the post of •strong woman' ia a variety show) Katchen shook her head and murmured * Armes Diagelchen!' fjy which one may infer that the little English governess was not without allies at No. 20.

The waited, her nerves on the rack, until Kathchen, having made a second journey and a third, had bumped and clattered herself finally out of the room; then rat down and wrote to her friend Lady Hopecastle—her 'darling Hebe.' The wi iter Baid how deeply interested she was in all details of hor friend's letter, and how delighted to know of her glory and prosperity—«and indeed it would be hard if yen couli not enjoy them darling —perhaps only you and I know the price you pail for them. You don't say much about your lord and master; does that mean that he hasn't given up certain little proclivities of bachelorhood P Probably though, they never came to your ears. Anyway you can afford not to mind; you never did make the pretence of marrying for love, dil yi u, darling ? ' If you ever give your maestro a thought now-a-days, I think you would be sorry could you see him. He looks ill and haggard, aa though he had lost all interest in life, and he has a wretched cough. I heard him play in the Saal-bau only this week, and could not help noticing, knowing what I know, how hungrily his eyes searched the audience, and the bltak look in them because in all that sea of faces there was not the one they looked for." -' Bnt, really, it is too bad of me to. cloud-yta; sunshine even for. a moment. Ssbld me, darling, and I'U never oo much as mention Brnchfeld again. After all, what culd I was his folly to give a great passion in exchange for a girl's fancy. Yju have the world on your side, dear, and of course it is notycur fault if a man chooses to break lis heart for love of you.'

And S3 forth, till at last Lucy, laying down her pan, rested her elbows on the table, to consider the. above composition. The ghost cf a qieer unhallowed emile hovered about her face as she read. • '/here's Vol. 11.,' she Baid,' as near as I can do it; Vol. 111. ought to »interesting, or I've studied Hebe to no ru:pose.'

The smile was startled from Lucy's face by the opening of the Es3zimmerdoor. It was Fraulein Mitzsnius, who, sallow, swarthy, and ?i Jt-slippered, silently hinted extinction of the lamp. 'Beady this moment, Fraulein M-.t----zsniu?,' said the latter's English governess sweetly, rising with alacrity. Then as the door closed, 'Hiloous old mummy, I know you suspect me—l wonder what of ?'

CHAPrEE XVI. It is not to be supposed that H abb's mood at this time was discontent without interlude, nor that her relations with her husband were chronically strained. To Buppo3e this would be to write Hopecastle down a poor pazsionless mask of a man; and to endue Hebe with a dozen qualities both good and bad that she had not. At times when husband and wife were alone together, Hebe wonld forget her grievances, real or fancied, and be so sweet and kittenish, that Hopecastle adored her more than ever, and the spell of honeymoon days fell upon them both asraia. And indeed, had there been no disturbing elements to reckon with, this short lale of folly ccu!d never have been wurten. Perpetual struggle for recognition of this position, undoubtedly herß by right, was spoiling Hebe's temperbut while in pubUc she appeared imperious, exigeant and unreasonable, her pretty boudeir alone was witness of storms of childish gii:f over her impotence and mortification. But whilst every day brought its quota of discord; certain occasions, of which here iB one ecc'-, stood out like milestones on an evil road. It was tea-time at Boughton, and Hebe and her mother-in-law were receiving a small host of callers Amongst them were the Schuylers, and a Prince and Princess Tourerenieff—in England for and for the moment guest 8 of the Schuylers. Lady Bophie wa3 in a marry mood; tc--day, at all event*, she was welcome at Boughton; hut it tickled her vastly to detect the Dowager Lady Hopacastle's invincible disapproval under a veneer of scc:al cordiality. In a retired corner of the huge rocm Bat Judith and Hubert, ostensibly investigating a portfolio of foreign photographs ; hut actually absorbed in a sotro voce discussion as to whether decmey would permit of yet another raid upon tea-table dainties. Judith decided notwhereon Hubert waxed eloquent in per' suasion. But Judith frowned upon bis reasoning only the more sternly that u coincided with her own inward longing*

Head-shakes availing nothing to-silence. him, she tweaked him on the leg. A-'. thought too hard; for Hubert drew all' eyes in his direction by a ujaeaked out « Upon which, Judith, inspiredby bi tiled appttite or revenge, or both, cried: • Get it for yourself, Hi.' The company relaxed into laughter} and at a wink from his wife, goodnatured Con Schuyler, a plate of cakes in either band, waddled across the rcom, and deposited them before the discomfited pair. Alas for human candour 1 he earned no thanks, but contrariwise evoked abashed indignant disclaimers of ;any referent to »uch carnal en] o)ment* ■ ' The foreign Princess dapped her bands; 'Charming!' the cried, «such undiluted human nature.' Everybody laughed again, even including the Dowager. By some anomaly, awkward downright Judith enjoyed her favour, to which fact Hubert chiefly owed realisation of his epicurean dreams.

A footman entered with a telegram ' For his Lordship,' he said. ' Sire it to me.

The aervaat, after scarcely perceptible hesitation in Hebe's direction, extended the salver to the Dowager, who had spoken. j z ~ *J - i ■•' ' May I ?' addressed herself to the company in general, and the Princesß in particular. Then she opened the tele-g-am,

'No answer.' The servant went out

Conversation underwent an involuntary break during the reading of the telegram; asd Lady Sophie, who was talking to Hebe, permitted herself the plebeian but expressive pantomime of a wink under cover of a pink bit of paper. H»be flashed red as a poppy, and her speech went to a stammer; nf xt moment, without or sign of apology, she rose, and almost on the heels of the footman, swept out of the room.

Ten mi antes, perhaps, passed; a knock came at the door of Hebe's boudoir. •Who is it?" The voice was msfllad—unnatural.

•It's only me—Judith.' ' Tou can't come ia.' ' I want to speak to you, please.' ' Go away at once.' ' Dj let me speak to you first, Hebe.' The key turned in the door, Jadith stood aghast. ' Hebe, what is the matter ? Are you ill ?'

• No—what have you come for ?' • Lady Hopecastle sent ni3 to say that the Pxincess is just going.' ' Very well then, let her go.' ' But they want to say good-bye to you, Hebe.'

•They'llhave to want—l'll not ge down at that old woman's bidding. She may be mistress of the h-hcuse, but she isn't of me.'

• Hebe, darling, what is the matter ?' ' She's the most wicked, in-inßulting old thing,* sobbed Hebe; ' this h-house won't hold her and me long.' Jadith, child-like, required the Dowager's latest enormity explained. 'lf s a shame, darling; but you must tell Arfchuv and he'll give her a talking to.'

Hebe burst into ;an hysterical laugh over the scene conjured by Judith's homely consolation, but she shook her Iliad.

•What am I to say to herp' asked Judith.

' Nothing—anything you lixe—l don't care.'

' I shall just say you are not coming.' The child waited a moment; she had a larking suspicion that something approaching diplomacy might be tfae better course in HeDe's interest. But Hsbe said not another word, and the child went cut, Straight into the drawing-room she marched, big with resolve.

• Hebe's not coming, Lady Hopecistle!' she said firmly; then turning to her brother, 'Come, Hubert, wo must go home.'

The children went out without sign of good-bye; the Princess bit her lip to hide a smile; Lidy Sophie had told her a thing or two. * * - * «

Lord Hopecastle came in from hunting presently, mud-splashed and tired; hie mother was alone.

'ls tea going stillP' he said, throwing himself into a chair.

'There shall be some immediately.' Her ladyship rang. 'Sd you've had the Sihuylers here P I thought I passed their flash liveries in the park just now.' 'Yep; they called with the Tuirgeniiffs.'

Hopecastle saw that his mother was rrfflsd. •Where's Hebe?' he asked suddenly. Perhaps association of ideas prompted the question. ' I have no idea.' * She isn't out driving, surely ?' * Oh, no—that is, she was in the house half-an-hour ago.' ' Is anything the matter, mother ?' ' I think so; I think when my son's wife insults me publicly in his house, there is something the matter.' Hopecastle suppressed an impatient exclamation. * Hebe insult you, mother ? What can you mean ?' 'Simply that when the Tcurgenitffs were here, she Hong herself cut of the room in a pet, for no reason at all; and when the Princess was leaving and I sent ' Htbe a request to return, she flatly refused to do so.' * But(here must have been something—' ' Believe ma, there was nothing.: 1 thick, Arthur, you must spe&k to your wife ; it is a little too much that I thould be flouted by a mere girl, in my—in my sen's house. 5 Hopectstle sighed. ' Beslly I don't know what has come to Hebe lately.' he said, chafing. At another moment he would scarcely have said it; but tired as he was, and baulked of the reception with which his ardour had beguiled eleven monotonous miles of road, the words slipped out unawares. ' Her marriage has turned her head, and she iB thoroughly spoiled/ said Lady Hopecastle," She bad said such things before, and Hopecastle began to fear there mutt be truth in them : perhaps it was his dutj to speak to Hebe. He finished his tea, and slowly, not without foreboding, went up to hia wife's boudoir. as he parsed along tha great corridor, the sound of violin playing came to .him, wild and stormy. The playing stopptd short as he entered; Hebe laid down her violin. (To be continued.)