THE LITTLE SEA WAIF.

Otago Witness, Issue 2810, 22 January 1908, Page 98

THE LITTLE SEA WAIF.

By E. Gladys Harvet.

She was dark and small and pretty, with an elfin prettiness. Her soft, dreamy eyes and olive skin betrayed a foreign strain ; y«t Marjorie Denham seemed English beyond a doubt. Who she was none could say. Those who chose to question her elicited very little information. She had come from London, and her earliest recollections were of a beautiful home where she had lived with her mother. She had tangled memories of long, sweet nights, haunted by strains of lovely music. She remembered that she played on a soft-toned violin, and men. hung around _ «rid showered praise and presents upon "her. She recalled one night very vividly. • <Her mother had dressed her in shining white and had taken her to a crowded concert hall. She had stepped on to a ■ rose-bowered stage, and someone had bade • her play her sweetest, for the Queen had oomfe to listen to her. Then 6he had taken ncr dear' violin and had forgotten everything that they had told her. She -just played and played— the soft, trembling music of grief, the weird, dreamy music of Chopin's nocturnes. When she ceased the applause of that crowded house dazed her, the .cries of the audience set her heart fluttering and made her eyes misty. sfhe rapturous kisses of her mother, the frxcited congratulations of her friends and gnasters told her she had been a success. After that there had been. daTk days when people trod the great rooms with slippered feet. For long weeks her mother lay in a darkened chamber wrestling with • Peath. She lived. She came back to them, .a shadow of the lovely girl mother. One day she had clasped her in her arms and exclaimed : "Marjorie, my Marjorie ! we must leave ibur dear home. The doctors tell me I Shall die if I remain in England, so you *nd I are to^ seek health m Australia ; and w« eail in a fortnight. We shall ppend our Christmas at sea, but we will pot mind that ; we will not mind anything S» long, as the dear Lord lets me stay frith .my wee girlie." •^ Marjorie remembered well those happy ""Treeks aboard the big ship. Her mother , *at in a big deck chair, and little Marjorie ; loved to watch the sea wind flutter the • *<xft hair and bring a tinge of pink into - the pale cheeks. One night they were • fcw*kened to a scene of horror. The Screams of women mingled with hoarse •Thoute from excited men, and with it there Game a sickening .crash of breaking timpens and the crushing grind of smashing ' IWachinery. . ~Oiad in her little white nightgown, Marjorie ran up on to the deck, but there she s yae parted from her mother. A darkfeced sailor snatched her up and tossed her " Into a boatload of scrambling men. The frightened child crouched low, and clung to the sailor who had rescued her. The . 'raves washed into the boat, and half the 3Hea were at work bailing. One man •hrew his rough jereey over the small figure, and watched over her tenderly. i 3«fore daylight the child grew unconscious. iihe remembered nothing more until she found herself on board a tramp vessel tak- , |Jig «heep * from the Argentine to Australia. • • • • . The little waif was given a gruff weljome from the sailors of the Afvera, but th« shrinking child drew, .from them, afraid of their rough looks, and was not able to understand the golden kindness hidden >way in their iron-bound hearts. It had been arranged among the crew of the . Ahrera that the captain was to take the child to his lodgings upon arrival in Sydinej, and place her in his sister's charge «» soon as possible. But Marjorie took ber fat© into her own hands. While the fnen were in the rush of making fact the *■*»* '* m- getting things in order they .failed to notice a, little figure slip across 'She gangway and disappear into the night ; fttd in fche.hush of midnight no one saw _r«he same trembling little fignre eteal on .%<> a shadowed verandah and coil herself -.iMJoa a big rerandah founge>and fall to -*l*ep — a little stranger in a strange land. It was a fortunate thing for the little .van ' that the big' motherly woman who •S*pied the sleeping child as she opened her door should have listened to her explanation with patience and sympathy. She gave her coffee and bread ancr Dutter, . Tvbil© little Bessie, her daughter, looked oa. with tears of pity in her blue eyes and .eager inquiries on tier lips. - 'i Oh, mummy I let hex stay until after Christmas, and give her one of my frocks ; Vid my old shoes will do quite nicely for »er if I put some polish on them ; and I «m sure that I can spare her a pair of stockings," and the* eager child ran off to ransack her wardrobe for the little waif. And the warm-hearted Irishwoman was too sympathetic to say a word of reproval to tier littte~girL Marjorie ate her Christmas dinner unifier tho! sheltering roof of Clifton Cottage, «nd" Mrs Davis was prevailed upon to find t place in her small household for the services of the little English girl. She decided to keep her as a playmate for .the children, -but the child was quick and giateful. The playmate merged into nurse-girl, message-girl, and 1 a dozen .ether designations. She found, a safe anchorage in the •Kcnne of the goodSieartcd Irishwoman, and from the first appreciated it. Years passed by, bringing little ohange |v Marjorie. She grew Pall" and slender, and her face grew white and wistful as 6he left her childhood behind her, and met her girlhood. Her brain whirled with fancies and dreams — wiid hopes took foirth and then died quickly away. Dark 6hadows showed on the young face, and 'changeful lights in the dark eyes. Marvrjorie was not happy, yet not one word

'of discontent diet she utter. She performed the strenuous tasks of her dt-ily work, and Mrs Davis never knew that the heart of her little maid was for ev«r floating away over space and centreing around the dear mother whom she had lost so swiftly and terrilbly. | It was a great day at Clifton Cottage I when little Bessie Davis took her first violin leeson. Marjorie was in the room when the master took the violin out of the case, the twitching fingers of the girl ecu d ecaroely refrain from touching the well-loved instrument. One day, however, her chance came. Signer Rinaldi noticing the rapt look in her eyes as she watched him put his music away, asked bsr if she would like to learn to play. * can play," came the quick reply. 'Then play something for me now," he said, and without hesitation she took up the violin. Marjorie lifted the old Stradivarius lovingly. Her fingers touched the strings caressingly, then she lost herself, and amazement and delight held -her listeners epeilbound. All her old pieces flew back on Memory's wing. Gounod's seranade floated out clear and true, all its subtleness and weird sweetness krou^kt out by those slim town hands. Then came snatches of Mendelssohn and a haunting nttle gem of Dvorak. She came back to earth with a gasp ; the excited Italian was almost beside himself with joy. "A genius! A marvel!" he ejaculated. Mrs Davis came forward with beaminz face. * •Child, why did you not tell us of this? We must have a concert for her, signor and if you arrange the musical part I'll see to everything else." . It was in a little guild hall that Marjorie made her first appearance. Mrs qT^t, ad been as g 00 * 1 her word ♦ had canvassed her suburb and interested her friends until all her tickets frock for Marjorie. She brought to lijjht an old pink brocade which she wished to remodel to fit Marjorie, but she declined to wear it. Signer Rinaldi had given her fave shillings, and she expended it upon her concert gown. She chose a cheap white muslin, which fell in graceful lines around the slender figure. A white .Liberty silk sash of Bessie's encircled her waist. From her elbows down her thin brown arms were bare, and guiltless of any adornment. Two women drove down the long whit<T road toward the city. They were on their way to a Christmas Eve party, and the, cab light fell on the white silk and pearls of the younger woman, and on the black lace and diamonds of the- elder. One woman talked of the joy of the morrow, of her children, of the reunion of friends from whom she had been long parted. Her companion was silent, her thoughts were not upon the pleasure of the evening, but of one wild night many yeans ago, when a fair ship struck a hidden rock on her journey to Australia, and among those who were lost that night was her only daughter; her one ewe lamb. Mre Denha-m was saved to find her life a blank, and! the ache in her heart had never quite healed. A loosened trace buckle stayed their progress for a minute or two, and while they waited' there floated to them on the hot, dreamy air the clear, eweet tones ot a violin. The elder woman started and leaned out of the cab listening — then an exclamation of bewilderment broke from her. "Minnie, I must go and see that player!" andi she swiftly descended and hurried up to the little concert room. Christmas bushes were tied to the verandah posts, and garlanded around the door. Mrs Davis had taken no half measures foT her little maid's honour — she had made the old hall bright with flowers and decorations. The eager woman walked" in without a pause; the man at the dooi touched her arm. "Ticket, please, ma'am," and she looked around wonderingly. "1 was forgetting," 6he murmured, and then she thrust a- sovereign into his hand. '• Keep tie change, but please toll me who ■ that player is. Ma.rjorie wa6 half hidden by a palm. ■ "Marjorie Denham, Mrs Davis's little maid ; but some- Italian chap discovered »he was a genius, and Mre Davis worked up this benefit for her," volunteered the doorkeeper. A little cry of delight broke from her lips, and she sank upon a form. Some rough-coated workmen rose and gave up their seat. Then they etood and marvelled at her appearance. She was like a beautiful humming bird in a flock "of sparrows, but she was oblivious to their scrutiny. Her eyes wore centred upon one object — the slender figure upon the stage. She waited in breathless silence until Marjories item was over, she listened to the storm of applauee, she watched Mrs Davis and her coterie walk boldly on to the stage to congratulate the girl, and then she turned to the man beside her and asked him to go to. the committee and say that she wanted to see someone in authority. The man did her behest, Signor Rinaldi stepped off the staee, and as he did so Marjorie looked, after him. One glance showed her the woman, standing, near the doorway. One long quivering exclamation, and she was running down the hall, and the tall stately woman in her regal robes hastened to meet her. "Mother! mother!" — the child could say no moTe. The 6oft white arms were around her holding her as if she would never let her go. Her lips touched the girl's brow lingeringly, as if she were loth to withdraw\them. Then she recalled her wandering wits — she regained her self-control. She had found her child, whom she had mourned as dead, but though she was longing to take her away to her heart and home at that very instant, there was

Marjories audience to be considered. She turned to them, her eyes wet, her bosom heaving : "My friends," her voice was soft and caressing, "I cannot express my thanks to you. You have fined an empty space in my heart. You have given my darling daughter to me. In my selfish mother love I rely upon your generosity and forgiveness. Will you cut out my daughter's items and let me carry her off with me? Am I asking too much? My heart is so hungry for her that I fear 'my commonsense has flown." The rest of her speech was drowned in cheers and applause. They were too truehearted to consider themeelv.es ; besides, that dramatic reunion was more than many instrumental items to them. In her queenly way Airs Denham went forward to the- stage and poured out her thanks to the motherly woman who had befriended her daughter so loyally. Mrs Davis held Marjories hands very tightly for an instant. Then her awe of the beautiful mother melted, and she stooped and kissed the girl. "I always knew she was a lady," she asserted, "but don't let her grow too proud to know her old friends, madam." "That she shall never do," returned Marjory's "mother, ac she iield Mrs Davi6's liands in a warm handclasp. Then she led the girl out into the night and up to the amazed companion, whose patience had been strained and whose curiosity had been excited by her friend' 6 strange absence. Marjorie has given other concerts in Drummoyne. Her musical education has been carefully fostered by her beloved mother. But by far the most important, most popular, and most successful was that first appearance of hers in the Guild Hall of a Sydney suburb one Christmas Eve. She found her mother — a greater gift she could not gain.