THE ROSE GARDEN.

Otago Witness, Issue 4032, 23 June 1931, Page 73

THE ROSE GARDEN.

By

Madame Albanesi.,

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.) Laxton Abbey was famous for many things: for its old moat, its ruins (of What had once been a monastery), its grounds, and above all for its roses. There was a wonderful pergola leading to what was called the rose garden, which was the special part of the possessions which appealed mostly to the young mistress of Laxton.

She was generally to be found, if she Were missing from the inhabited part of the abbey, in her rose garden armed with a basket, big scissors, long heavy gloves to protect her hands, either snipping off the dead leaves, or cutting more buds to be put about her own sitting room. Her husband used to tease her about her devotion to her flowers, but he was not in a teasing mood on one specially beautiful morning when he stood facing his 'wife, a very young and lovely woman white in the face and trembling a little. »

“You can see for yourself,,Harry,” she said/;- Look what she has done! The trees ’ have been stripped, there isn’t a rose, bud left, and you know lwas keeping],all those delicately tinted /roses to decorate the opening of the extension of the- Children’s Hospital. Sir Henry Callow looked troubled and unhappy, but he tried to bear himself genially. ; "But, darling,” he said, “how do you know at was Florence who did this? ” "How do I know?” Lady Callow queried. “ Who else w’ould do this ? You speak to Green —there he is.” She beckoned the head gardener forward. “ Now please tell Sir Henry,” she said, " who it was who stripped all (;hese rose bushes.” i ' ■ Green came forward, touched his hat to big master, and then said: “Why it was her, there isn’t anyone who could touch the roses except her! I made so hold as to ask her not to do it, I told her as I knew her ladyship wanted them for a special purpose', but she just laughed at me—she said she was sending them to her friends.” Lady Callow gave the old man a faint smile, and then motioned him away, and then when they were alone she looked straight into her husband’s eyes. “ Now, Harry,” she said, “ this has got to stop. I have gone through more than you can possibly know, or understand, because I have not opened my heart to you, through the presence of tliis woman living at Laxton. God knows why you took her into our house. Surely you kpow how badly she behaved to her father? I have been told over and over again stories of how shockingly Florence Kingswood treated old Sir Douglas. I think it was very impertinent of her to write to you and tell you that she ought to be living here instead of us. After all you have come into the title. It’s true you came into the title unexpectedly, but at the same time it is your heritage, it is your proper place. And I am your wife, this is our home, this is not the proper place for Florence Kingswood. You must get rid of her.” Sir Henry Callow, a fine-looking young man, tall, and well built, and with a sunburnt aspect as befitted a man who had been out in hot climates doing engineering work, gave a sigh. “ My dear,” he said, “ you know it’s practically impossible for me to do what you ask. After all, perhaps the stories you have heard about the way Florence treated her father are exaggerations? Anyhow, you know she has no money, she has no home, and ” “Well, why hasn’t she a home?” queried Lady Callow coldly. “ She has a husband although she declares she doesn’t know where he is. But if you ask me I believe her husband is just hanging on, and in time she will try and get him in here, too! Harry, my patience is worn out. This business of the roses, though it may seem a small thing to you, is the last of Innumerable insults and humiliations which this woman has put upon me. You have no conception how she speaks to me! She quarrels with the servants, you know I have had to dismiss half of them . . V. and we were so happy .before she came. My dear Harry, don’t you- realise how much happier we were then?”

“But we are happy still, darling,” Sir Henry said. : ] ’ • ’ ' And he went forward to put his arm round his wife, but'she drew back from him. ■ “ No,” she said, “ I am not happy, and I W’ant you to know, Harry, that this cannot go on. I am your wife, mistress of this old house. I am proud of my {josition, I am proud of you. I was the lappiest woman in the world, but since you brought Florence Kingswood to live here all that is changed, and I beg you to believe that I am in earnest when I say we shall never know happiness until you get rid of her.” With that Lady Callow turned and walked away. And Sir Henry stood and

looked after her. He loved her so much, he had fallen in love with her the first moment he had seen her when they had met at a garden party soon after his arrival at Laxton. Marriage had been something that had been very far distant from his thoughts until that day when he had seen Moyna Arnold standing with the sunlight falling upon her through the leaves of the trees, giving an exquisite touch of loveliness to her. He had been quick to notice that Dr Arnold’s daughters had not been brought forward to be introduced to him, but he very soon demonstrated his wish to know them, and from that moment aud until the day when they had been married in the little church in the village, he had never missed seeing Moyna Arnold a single day. The interview between the young man and Dr Arnold had been very quiet and very simple, although it must be confessed that Moyna’s father had a sense of heavy loss when he realised that his daughter, who was his housekeeper, and supervised] his home, and took care of her younger sisters and brothers, was going to leave him. And yet in the two years that followed on Moyna’s marriage to Sir Henry Callow, though she had left her home she still helped to run it, and whenever her father saw her she seemed to be radiated with happiness'. , And then very gradually. Dr Arnold became aware that the happiness of the young couple was becoming very much overshadowed. He atributed this to the presence at Laxton of the daughter of the late owner. He had good reason to distrust and dislike Mrs Kingswood. She had always treated him very rudely, declaring that he did not understand her father’s case, but there had been a deep and strong friendship between, old Sir Douglas and Dr Arnold, so lie had been able to dismiss all the rudeness and unkindness that was shown him.

He could not, however, but regret that Sir Henry Callow had been so goodnatured as to listen to the tale of grief and sorrow and woe that was poured out to him by Florence Kingswood. Of course, Dr Arnold never said anything to Moyna, but he did regret that this woman should have been given a place in the home of the young husband and wife. Moyna never said anything to Mrs Kingswood about the roses. She knew quite well she would only get very insolent remarks if she had done so, and she avoided being alone with her husband, who, as, it happened, received a telegram asking him to go to his old firm in London to take part in a consultation on some very big engineering works to which he would have been allotted had he not passed suddenly into a title and money. While he was away, Moyna kept entirely to her own side of the old house. She avoided going to the dining room for meals. And one day Mrs Kingswood presented herself in Lady Callow’s apartments. “ Why do you treat me with such abominable rudeness ? ” she asked excitedly. “ What right have you to treat me with rudeness? You know you are nothing but*an intruder in this house — a common little girl who set your cap at Harry and got him to marry you, God knows how!” Moyna, who was working at some embroidery, got up. “ Please go out of this room,’ she said, “ and never presume to approach my rooms again. You seem to forget that you are not a guest, or that you are not welcomed by me. You have managed to impress my husband with your lies, but you do not impress me, Mrs Kingswood. I know what you are working for—you wajit to make mischief between Harry and me—you won’t do so. You want to drive me away—you won’t do that! If you are not careful you will be driven away yourself. I will see to that.” Moyna stood very firm, and looked very proudly at the other woman. I can afford to dismiss all the odious things you say, Mrs Kingswood,” she continued, “because you are a common woman, a vulgar woman. How you ever were old Sir Douglas Callow’s daughter is something which none of us round here in the neighbourhood can never understand! I suppose it was your wretched husband- "who has turned you into the creature you are to-day ? ” Mrs Kingswood advanced towards the speaker. She was livid. She was a tall, thin woman, who once might have been good looking, but now was very plain. And before Moyna could defend herself she had struck the girl violently across the face twice.

This was seen by Moyna’s maid, who came in at the moment, hearing voices in the sitting room and feeling that perhaps something was likely to happen, and this maid seized Mrs Kingswood’s. arm and literally dragged her to the door. Then she turned to Moyna, who had sunk down in her chair and covered her face with her hands. “You must get rid of her, ma’am,” the maid said. “ And you want someone to take care of you while Sir Henry is

away. I wish you would let me go to Lord Billborough. You know he is the justice of the peace, and he rules things here. Leave him to deal with this creature.”

Moyna made no answer. Tears were running down her face. The insults which had been lavished on her were only just what she had been suffering for some time past, but it made her angry; angry, unfortunately, with her husband. She said nothing to her maid, but she stretched out her hand and pressed the woman’s in hers. “ Don’t worry about me,” she said. “ I shall be all right in a little while.” It was later on in the day that Dr Arnold, coining in rather tired from his rounds (he was very much sought as a doctor in the neighbourhood) was met by his second girl with the information that Lady Callow was in the house. “ And I believe she has come to stay, daddy, she has brought a suitcase with her. She is looking so ill. Of course, things have been getting rather bad at Laxton, but I never thought it would come to tliis. I told her I would let her know when you came in.” The interview between Lady Callow and her father was brief, full of tenderness, but full of wisdom. “ My dear, you cannot stay here,” her father said. “It is impossible. Moreover, you are a proud, strong woman. You were always ready’ to face any trouble' when you were taking care of me; now you must go back and take up. your proper place in your husband .- house.” But the girl shook her head. “It is impossible,” she said. She spoke with white lips, and she looked so ill that it made her father’s heart ache to see her. “Where is Henry?” he queried. “ You know his old firm wanted him, and he felt that hq was'morally obliged to do what they asked. That’s the fault with Harry,” the.young wife said. “He is too good, too loyal—-but not loval enough t himself. In fact, I am afrai he is rather weak. And in some strange way, father, this woman has managed to get hold of him. She has been determined to separate us, daddy, and she has done it.”

{ “Oh, nonsense!” Dr Arnold said. “ Husbands and wives are not so easily separated. Well, you may stay here tonight, my dear, because you look so ill, so thoroughly done up; but to-morrow you must go back and take up your duties as the mistress of Laxton Abbey. And tell Mrs Kingswood that despite your husband’s kindness to her, she must go. She must not remain, and she shall not remafin, in your house a day longer.” But Moyna shrank back from this. Oh, I can’t!” she said. “It means that I fight the man I love, not this woman. I’ll remain with you to-night. Daddy, you can see her if you will.” And then Moyna smiled faintly. “ I know one thing—she is having a terribly bad time with old Denning, the butler. He hates her; he hates her for her cruel treatment of his old master; he hates her for the way she is behaving to me—and she hates him. It all seems so strange, daddy; our life was such a wonderful life; we were so happy; it was like a dream—and now, what have I got to look forward to?” ' “ You have got to look forward to a good night’s rest,” said her-father, and he put his hand tenderly on her head, and then went downstairs and left Moyna to her thoughts.

It was old Denning who sent a telegram to his master bidding him return, and adding that he was much needed. As the business which had interested and occupied him was now definitely settled, Sir Henry did not wait for train and boat, but flew back from Paris to Croydon, and he arrived at Laxton Abbey just as Mrs Kingswood was sailing downstairs to sit in grandeur at a solitary dinner. She was greatly perplexed when she saw him, for she had hoped die would be absent a long time. Before she could approach him Denning had managed to get hold of his master. “ Your man hasn’t come yet with your luggage, sir,” he said, “so I will wait on you.”

And when he was upstairs the whole truth was poured out by the old butler. Sir Henry Callow, who had been torturing himself as to what was passing, and distresed beyond measure because Moyna had not written to him, listened to the old butler, and listened in good earnest.

“Denning,” he said at last. “This is terrible. I must send a message to my wife at once.”

The old butler smiled in a strange way. “If you want her ladyship to come here,” he said, “you will find her here. I took upon myself to write to her, and asked her if she would come over late this afternoon. I asked her if she would meet me in the rose garden, as there was so much I wanted to discuss with her, and unless I am much mistaken she will be in the rose garden after dinner.”

And then the butler spoke openly. , “ Sir,” he said, “you will never have any happiness in your life until you get this woman out of this place. She has made enough mischief, I should say. She’s upset all the servants, she’s broken up the happiness between you and your wife, and she’s only praying that this may be a lasting separation between you and her ladyship. I tell you, sir, that my heart sank the day I saw her come back here! Settle what money you like on her, give her a house a long way from here,” said- Denning eloquently, “ and get rid of her, sir—get her out of your life.” Sir Henry paused, looked at the old butler, and then as he recalled all he had heard how Florence Kingswood had worked against his wife, and done everything in her power to make Moyna’s life miserable, his determination was taken. “ Bight, Denning,” he said. “ I’ll send her away at once. You say she struck my wife.” The young man had turned pale. “ She struck my wife! Well, that settles it. I shall not come down to dinner; I shall go and wait in the rose garden until my wife comes.” Moyna wandered round the rose garden after she had arrived by a side entrance at Laxton Abbey. All the bushes that had been robbed so ruthlessly were putting forth new buds. There was a sense of tranquillity, a charm about the old world garden which acted like balm to the young wife’s aching heart and troubled spirit. She went to sit in a favourite corner where the scent of the flowers swept round her, and tears were very near her eyes. She could not quite understand why the old butler had made this rendezvous with her. But she knew him so well, she trusted him, she felt that he was her friend, and that he loved her, and she therefore had done his bidding. And as she heard steps of someone approaching, she rose to meet Denning. But she knew before he came in sight that the one who was approaching her was not Denning; it was her husband. Sir Henry went straight up to her and enfolded her trembling and shrinking form in his arms.

“ My dearest, my best, my darling,” he said, “will you forgive me? I have been cruel to you—but all that is over. I have had a regular fight with Florence, but I’ve turned her out. I gave her all the money she needs and she is going. She is going this very night by car to London, and. she will never come back here again, Moyna.” Moyna rested in her husband’s arms, her head on his shouldSr, her eyes closed. “ I only want you,” she said in a low voice.

“ And I only want you, my dear,” her husband answered. “It is just natural and sweet that we should come back in this old rose garden which you have loved and cared for so tenderly. And henceforward, Moyna, dear, we must never be driven apart —we belong to one another.”