CHAPTER XLVIII.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 192, 19 February 1887, Page 6

CHAPTER XLVIII.

ALONG THE DKRWENT WATERS. Miserable indeed were the five hours spent in the rushing train, Violet looked with heavy eyea at the landscape lying under the broad sunlight, villages, towns, farmhouses, parka, moorlands, factories drifting by her in a confused panorama, pervaded by duet, heat.cinders.jarring, and shrieking of the mail txain. Her head was hot and dull, her heart thumped and fluttered, hot flushes and miserable rigours passed over her slender, tired frame, She began to wonder what she should do if she should become very ill, senseless, or out of her mind before she saw Helen Hope. Who would find her ? What would they do with her? Would they put her in the hospital or almehousefor a poor vagrant, as ehe had heard was done with tramp people ? No, she had money with her. But, then, some one might rob her. Suppose strange, rough people should find and claim her, or even murder her? She was glad she had hidden her jewela : she leebly felt her ears, and was iiappy that no diamonds ?hone In them ; she slipped her watch into her bag. Finally the train stopped ; there was a great noise of shouting and screaming ; the guard came to her, "It is Chester, if you please, my lady. I hope you have some one to meet you ?" " No one," said Violet, forlornly. "You look very ill," said the guard, anxiously. "It is riding in the train," said Violet, hastily bracing herself up. " I never liked it. I shall be better." "The first train on the left-hand track will be for Derby," said the guard. " Don't mies it, my lady." Then the car that had brought her so tar whirled away, and Violet felt as if she had lost her last friend in that kindly guard Another long agony in a train, where several people in the c image with her stared at her dreadfully ; one woman ottered her smelling-salts, and one a fan, and oae insisted on talking to her about the weather and the country, and extorted successive monosyllables from the miserable littlo Violet. Finally the was at Derby. She had ?en?e to recognise her exhaustion and get a cup of tea. Then she began inquiring for ths village of Dee. ** Dee !"' No ono ever heard of such a place. "There was Belper, and Metlock, and Burton, but no Dee.'" "A small country place," explained Violet, "on the river Derwent. Oft the railroad, probably " But no one had ever heard of Dee. The head-waiter eaid he had nshsd all up and down Der^eut water, and never heard of a Dee in Derbyshire ; and then the Stationagent got a gazetteer, and proved to her out of print that tho shire of Derby had no place in it called Dee, Violet felt as if her rsason were forsaking her. No Dee ! Where, then, should she go? Where find Helen Hope? What did it mean ? Was she betrayed ? She turned away from the little crowd about her, went to a window, and sat down to try and collect herself, Her suspicions vrevo arousod. Had Helen basely lied to her T Hart she played with her miseries, and deceived her with that story about Edna Ambrose, a plot of all against her ? Perhaps Helen herself had schemed to drive her to this miserable escape, so as to make fra^h trouble for her, or open a way for herself to JLeigh. She thought she had better go back home. And yet how should she explain her flight, and those two wretched da} 5 and that dismal night pa a Bed in absence from her husband's roof ? How mad, how wicked 3he had been, after all her resolutions to be good. Then ehe felt that there, in the station, the clerk, the waiting-woman, the waiter at tho lunch table, were narrowly observing her. She caught bit? of their talk, a° "-runaway," "strange party," "out of mind, maybe," "Frienda should be notified," and so on. This filled her with wild terror. She loet all control of herself for the moment, and burst into tears, and sobs shook her frame. The waiting-woman ciuid hastily to her. "Mies, what's wrong? Are you in any trouble? Shall wo send fir anyone?" and as Violet could not ansuei the woman held some salts near her face, and bathed her forehead from a glass of water. But that weeping, for vhich r-he hated Tiereelf, and of which ?! c was heartily ashamed, saved her tor tho time. She recovered her composure. She thanked the waitinz-woman, and Baid, quietly : " No, I want nothing : ycu need send for no ono : I am over tired frees the long trip, and riding in the train alv,z.\s makes mo a little ill. lam better cow, f felt disappointed at not seeing a friei d, but I can go on alone \ cry well. 1 .:zo v, i u3t what to do." So ehe slipped a sbilii r-'_r -'_- in the v/oman'a hand, which silver being tcore potent than words, she wa9 allowed to arrar^'e her hair and bathe her face in the little dressingroom, and so slip out of the aids door of the station, and go ffer way. At first, her one object wwoa o to put several squares between herself and the inquisitive people at the station. la doing this she moved through two or three noiey, dusty, busy Btreete : the pavemente hot with the afternoon sun, the houses reflecting tho glare from their walls ou her aching head. She stopped into a store and bought a brown silk umbrella. She realised how weak she was as she left the store, She felt as if she -could hardly carry her little bag. Oh, to get away from the town, from tho burning pavement, the curious eyes, the bold faces, the strident voices Oh to get into tho bleeped country, to be stttded by trees, to hear birds aing, to tread on eof t grass. She threaded one street after another, and at last ventured to ask a pleasantfaced little boy to tell her the way into tho country. As she prefaced the request by a sixpence the child stopped readily. "Do you mean out where the lanea and fields are, lady ?" " Yes, yes," said Violet, eagerly. " You like to walk in the country ? So do I. Come on. I'm going home, and my house is way outside town. I've been kept in after school. I always am. Today I was kept in playing mumbledy peg on my desk. Do you like to play mumbledy " I don't know how," gagped Viotet. "You must be a goose," said the boy, frankly ; " but you are awful pretty, and yonr dreee w nicer than my mother's Sunday beat. Shall I carry your bag? You look tot and tirtd, raise."

11 So I am," said Violefe, giving up the bag, and feeling ready to Bink. "Then you'd better Btop at Mother Eugg'a shop and have some giuger beer. It's awful good, and cools you like anything. There's her shop with the blue sign." Violet felt that Bhe needed eomething, so she entered the little shop, and the Countess of Leigh and the little sohool-boy each ba'i some ginger beer. Mrs Ruggs admitted that she had never heard of a place called Dee, and Violet, overwhelmed with misery, and longing in & sick way to get into the quiet of the country, went on with her little guide. Their road lay along the river, and after a time they paßfed the intervening rows of shops and dwellings, and came by open fields. " " There's my home," said the boy. " Come in and see mother." But the mother was r.ot at home, and after resting for half an hour on a seat in the little garden, Violet, feeling somewhat refreshed, and thankful to see the sun stooping toward the western horizon, went on her miserable, aimless way. She meant to find some quiet house where some kind-faced woman lived, aDd ask a lodging for the night. The dust of the highway distressed her, and the inquisitive looks of pa*aers-by terrified her. A stile led into a heH, and across the field the fringe of alder?, and willows, and poplars showed where the river ran. She longed for the murmur of the waters, the freshness of the bonks, and ao crossed the stile and field to the footpath that ran along blue Derwent's side. All the world was in the glory of the May. Clover, red and white, shook fragance from its crowded bloom, the pink-tipped daisies starred the grass, and all along the waterways blossomed the golden pyramids consecrated to St. John. Tnrough this bloom and beauty wandered Violet of Leigh, each inetant with a more sicliening sense of desolation and fatigue. Unaccustomed to such long exertion, every nerve and muscle ached eorely from the long strain. A refuge she must find at once or fall by the way. A neat cottage was near, facing the river, ana surrounded by a rose garden. A tall, very trim woman leaned on the gate, and though her sharp face was anything but cemforting, Violet preferred her request, ' ' Had she a spare room, for a boarder for a eight or few days ?" "A room!" cried the -woman, shrilly. " Not I ! What has one to think of a pretcy young miss wandering about the country iv a silk gown and a Paris hat ! 1 know better. I've been a lady's maid, and " Violet staid to hear no more, a flood of crimson dyed her pallid face at the implied in ault. Had she, Violet Ama ie, Counties of Leigh, fallen so low as to be taken for a vagrant and spurned by an ex-lady'a maid. Maddened by humiliation, she hurried along with renewed force untill hearing steps closely pursuing her, she turned abruptly, and looked into a face young and gentle as her own.