CHAPTER XXII. GERTRUDE AT GREENWOOD.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 215, 13 August 1887, Page 7

CHAPTER XXII. GERTRUDE AT GREENWOOD.

Naw every •awUeyeduncmrner May <*tali ihe glory afar, - • - For safe in tho JLorcUUhrists bosom Are the keys. of Jhe gate* ajar, Safe kentiu the dear Christ s bosom, And the gates are for ever ajar. • Fvoai tho Italian. 14 1 am glad to see you lookinjr bo well this morning, my love/ naid the venerable Dr. Goodwin, as he handed (intrude into the carriage that was to convey Jbov to Greenwood on that bright and beautiful midsummer morning 1 . " Thanks, dear Dr Goodwin Yes, lam wonderfully well. This morning, when I first came out into the Kimshiue, however, just as all the beauty and glory of the Lord's earth was flowing into my soul, n pang suddenly smote me with the thought that my dear grandfather was not here to enjoy it with mo as of old ; that he was deep buried in the dark grave ; and the sphere of death enveloped me and shadowed all my soul just as suddenly as you have .seen a black cloud pass over the sun's disc And darken all the earth ; but just ap suddenly came the reaction ; betoie my j oppressed spirit had time to moan, the cloud passed from before the sun, the stone was roller! away from the sepulchre, and my beloved nnd venerated guide stood revealed — not in his visible form, not to tho eyes, of flesh, but in his beautiful, a&cendcd shape, and to the vivid insight of love nearer, dearer, more intimate than ever. ~Mv Goodwin, I thank the Lord and 1 am happy. The old minister lifted his hat and gravely bent his grey head, and said nothing. The carriage, after leaving Haddon's Ferry, turned into the river-ioad leading down towaul the Old Red Sandstone Church. It was a rough and narrow road, with the gloomy precipices of Wolfe's Ridge on the right, and the rapids of Wilde Ri\ er on the left. But the splendour of the midsummer morning sun lighted up all the scene with life and joy; the peifume of innumeiable wild lloweis filled the air with fragrance; the songs of myi iad biids celebrated the jubilee of nature's awakening. Five miles below Haddon's they passed under the venerable towers of the Summer Manor House, built high on the ridge above them. "This day, one week ago, theie were grand preparations going on in that house, my dear,"' said the old minister, driving ' slowly as he gazed up at the magnificent old .structure. " Yes ; I heard a great deal of talk about it," answeied Gertrude. " It seems a pity it should have been postponed. It was a marriage made in heaven, if e^er a marriage was made there. It was a 'marriage of love as well as of worldly wisdom, a union of hearts as well as of hands. It wa.s also to have united in one young pair all the great Fitzgerald j estates in Wilde county. I had intended to be present at the marriage ; but, alan ! instead of assisting at a wedding, I was called to officiate at a funeral," said the old minister, with a sigh, as he touched his old horse and drove pant the Summit. " Will the wedding be deferred for any great length of time ?'' inquired Gertrude, with sympathetic interest. "I do nob know, my dear. 1 have not heard. But I fear thai the death of General Slaughter was not the only cause of the postponement of the wedding. I fearthat theie has been some serious misunderstanding between the fiery-tempered young couple. Fiery temper is the only fault of the Fitzgeialds. But what can we expect? It is an Irish-Italian i-ace, with the grand virtues and vices of both people. It is said that Miss Fitzgerald has left the Summit Manor House, and that Colonel Fitzgerald still lingers in Washington City." " Colonel Fitzgerald arrived last night. I myself brought him across the river. He went on to the Summit Manor House as .soon as the storm was over," said Gertrude, quietly. The old doctor slackened his horse's pace, and turned and looked at hit* young companion for a moment, and then said : "Gerald Fitzgerald returned last night ? What does it all mean ? Well, I hor>e now that all will be as it fehoukl between the I>air," lie added meditatively, as he touched up his horse and drove on in perfect silence. A mile further down the river they passed under the time-horaouired walls of the old Red Sandstone Church., and then they turned out of the river road and struck into another on the -right, leading away from the shore into -a wooded past? between two precipices. "This is the private road into Greenwood. You never came .al®i%g this road before, did you, my dear?" (inquired the minister. "No, Dr. Goodwin. Iwasaierver farther this way than the church. It is .a beautitEaal road. It reminds sac of >the Midsummer sToght's Dream, In these «Seep green leafy ravines and caverns one miglrt almost •expect to see Oberon .and 'T.itania holding fhear fairy court, 3*3 * xanranuned Gertrude fdiiieamiiy. A mile or two of slow'driving'thr'ough the wildly beautiful wooded pass 'brought them 'out mpe-n a green glade, walled 'in by the 'gweeai forest. In the midst ><rf this igkide- stood the farmhouse and buildings known, as Greenwood. 'THae dwelliwg-laaase was-aHagge, irregular tedifioft, <of ffreataige, ifoaiit, Sikcmost'Oi the .homes in this loeafety, <otf »«Mi»ed sandstone, .and {having &, very sbeep soof , with many <gable ends, «tadk«of dhamneys, queer little ibaloaiases.and'veraiada'he r and.oddllittleeorner .•stoops and pouches, all .-co (covered \wiiJh ivy, (OPe^pina-g vines .and tcbmlaing xoses tShat its •omgfittal .tilefiigtn looaild Iby mo means 'be deitnecL The qwadßltly >pidjuffesque and at•tracfltmtte (dwelling -fiibood iin the tniidet <of a lawn ibeawiiQy «hafled wiitih .gueat-f orestftvees. Behind rtfl&e -hemee were Uoifcdhen and 'flower garctans, .«Tw*.u!bheriie6, ocdhftrds .and \vineyards. JBejiond .and .all .around vwere urich fields «itf 'gxaan, .and coftton '(for •though (Qottoaa w.ac by ;no imeans a --Staple .article «tf;pitaduiee, <ercaiighvw(Vßi cultivated on <every pSamtatncHa to swpply mateuial for the metroes* «dlot!king;, •tfhidh-w&s.cft.ways at tthis ttame mattnn^acfcaippd .ait 'home). A winding, i^haded, gmasft-g«!O\wn<6rin«eled<fttom theiroad ttihrough tbe Hawm up to ttihe 'house. '• ' It is a !«axpeay jpJace |! It as .green and beautiful ! O'fce a inesft m "the x/ild-woodt indeed !" said diesrtnudq, i«n swaum admira- ■ tion« as the dijaefcor'* icarniaige di/evr up be-p fore one of the qaiaint HittUe crfcoops,. J "You like your fflalUire Swwnq, tfihen, my dearf said Dr. Cioojlwvin, fen a ttoaie of pleasure. "Like it? Oh, Mn^aalka'blsr 1 ißxnb not as my future home. Ob, no. USTo place but dear old Haddon can ever be tny (future home !" answei*ed Gertrade, with tendergravity "Ah, well, my dear child, Ume wall show," smiled the minister, as he alighted from the carriage. "Here, Hannibal, thou thunderbolt of war ! come and take the horse's head/ he cried, beckoning one of a groop of negroes who were crossing the lawn. The smallest, thinnest, blackest, and oldest specimen of a negro man that ever was seen came skipping towards the carriage. " Look at him, my dear. He is ninetyBeven years old, and. hasn't a 'tooth in his jaws, or a hair on his head, yet he has the agility of a monkey ; but ho is all nerve and

muscle, you see," said Dr. Goodwin, as ho threw, thS'.rein^to the aged; groom, and assisted Gertrude to alight. • " Are the ladies ab home this morning, Hannibal ?" he next inquired. ' " Mi?B Suey is home, sar, but Missis Doy Fitzgerald and Miss Pat is gone out' riding along ob Miss Gerry, ear," replied Hannibal, jumping from bide to side, and bowiug by jerks. " Why, is Miss Geraldino here?" asked the old minister, with interest. " She am, ear," said the old groom, (skipping about and bowing. " Stop dancing, Hannibal, and attend to the horse. You will teach him bad trick?," laughed Dr. Goodwin, as he led Gertrude up some crooked stairs to a corner stoop in which there were two odd little green doors at light angles with each oilier. One opened into lloyal Greenleat'.s small study, where lie was accustomed to keep his ac-count-books and receive his overseer. The other opened into the entrance hull, where many other doors led into other rooms and a winding staircase conducted to the floors above. Dr. Goodwin rang the bell and was admitted by a neat, blight j,,ulatto girl, who opened a door on the light and showed the visitor into a large, cool pailour, whose many window.* -three on the south and tluee on the west— were so deeply shaded with green \inco that the sunshine only entered between the leaves in flickering golden sparkf. The pailour wa. c baie of paper, but lime-washed ; smooth and white as new-fallen snow : the floor was bare of carpet or matting, but was bcuibbed and polished until it was clear and tuning as ivory. The fuinituic wa<* lich and heavy old mahog'iny, and the sofa c and easy-chains were co\eicd with old-fashioned Hower chintz. Thebioad fireplace on the south side was filled with flagrant cedar boughs. Oxer the high, wrought oak mantel-piece hung a life-^i/ed halt-portuiit of a stout, broad - shouldered, black eyed, blaekbearded, piiaticol-looking scamp in the semi-naval unifoim of a mci chant captain. On each side of the h'teplace weie glass cas-es, filling up the whole lece-^es fiom floor to ceiling. The case on the light hand was tilled with books, and the case on the left hand was tilled with sheik, minerals, stuffed biuN, pi evened in c ccts and 1 optiles, Japanese, Chinese, and Indian toys, and other euiiosities brought from foreign couutiies and presented to the sisteis. Other family \ oitiait* hung aiound on the Avails in the spaces between the windows and the doois. " Sit clown, my clear Gertuule."' -aid the old man, politely placing a chair for his young companion and seating himself by her side. "This is the two ladies' own parlour, sacied to the u^o of Mr.-, Doy and Mia*> Sue, and theii fiiends. None of Royal Gieenleafs wild bachelor cronies ever intrude heie. That pictuic over the mantelpiece is a poitiait of Captain Patrick Fitzgerald, late of the mci chants' sci\ ice, embalmed at a hero in the memory of hi^ widow Mrs Doy, but con.sideied little better than abuccanect by other people. That glass cabinet on the left is filled with souvenirs of the captain's many voyages. That bookcase on the light, with its contents, is the propei ty of Miss Sue (Jreonleaf. I ought to let you a little into the characteristics of these ladies, my dear, because you are to live with them intimately and long."' "Thanks, de.ir Dr. Oocdwin. I would like to know s-omething about them, that I may be better able to please them, ' said Gei trude, with humility. "There is not a doubt that \ou will please them, my dear ; and I hope and believe they will also please you. They are both very refined and intellectual, although they ha\o not had all the advantages of education that might ha\e been desirable for them. Mrs Doy is devoted to the memory of her late husband, whom she woi ships as a soit of heio and martyr. He died at sea, a\ ithin a few months after their man iage, and .she has lived a widow ever since, notwithstanding that her position heie is a dependent one, and that she ha i had severil offeis fiom wealthy and independent suitors." 11 Ah, I shall love that lady. [ know I shall love that lady. Such fidelity ib so beautiful, " said Gertrude, warmly. " X don't know, my dear, about such fidelity being so beautiful. I consider it lather moibid,'' said Dr. Goodwin olowly shaking his head. By the way, it was wispered, in Wilde country tea-parties, that the woithy doctor himself had been one of the snitois of the beautiful Doy, and that he had lived a widower so long, not from legard to the memory of the late Mrs Goodwin, but in devotion to the charms of the implacable widow Fitzgerald. " Is she cheerful, Dr. Goodwin T "As full of life as a bird, my dear, and as humane, sympathetic, and as much given to active charity as any woman I ever saw in all my life. Such is Mrs Doy. The other sister, the maiden sister, Miss Sue Greenleaf, is extremely poetical, sentimental and romantic. She tiies all real chai actor by an ideal standard, and has never married, I verily believe, because she has never met any man woithy of being compared to her ftt\ovirite heroes of romance. And yet, in all other matters, she is surprisingly practical and efficient, and as the mistress of her brother's bachelor establishment, she is a model housekeeper and exemplary hostess. " "I— think — I shall like hei too,'' said Gertrude, hesitatingly. "Very likely, my dear; most young ladies do. Wonder why bhe keeps u& waiting so lonjp. Ah ! dear me ! Here comes Ben Bowers !" exclaimed the doctor, in a tone of such annoyance as to elicit from Gertrude an interrogative echo of — "Ben Bowers?" " Yes, my dear ; Ben Bowers, one of Royal Greenleaf 's good-for-nothing hangerson. Heaven forgive me for paying it, and for my want of charity, J/Wi !" As Dr. Goodwin pronounced the last cautionary word, the subject of the conversation entered the room. Mr Benjamin Bowers was a fair specimen of a class of men to be found in every community, but most frequently perhaps in country neighbourhoods in the Southern States — a hanger-on, a parasite, a, sponge ; in modern language, a "dead beat," not from povei ty or necessity, but from laziness and indifference. Very often it happens that such a one has property that he is too careless to look after, or a profession that he is too lazy to practise. Such was Mr Ben Bowerp, a distant i&achelor-coxtsin of Royal Oreenleafs. He had inherited a farm which was first mortgaged, and tb^n sold. He had learned a profession that he lacked patience and industry to practice. And now lie lived among his friends, bestowing the greater portion of his time upon good-natured Royal Greenleaf anc T his aiiable sisters. In perxon Ben Bowers was bhoit, fab and round-bodied, with a fuU, fair, rosy face, innocent of any ! beard, and with ligH-yellow, curly hair, ami light-blue, laughing- eyes. In manner heivae free-atjd-easy, self-satisfied, and unconsciously impudent. He had oflered himself to every spinster and every widow in Wilde county ; not that he was prone to fall in love, but that he wanted to be taken care of. He bad offered himself in turn to the beautiful Doy and the sentimental Sue, and been gravely and politely rejected. He had offered himself to Mi&s Maxima Rowley, and had besa prdered out of the bouse, and

threatened with a ducking in the horse'fiqnd. .TWstly, he had offered himself to little fifteen -year old Put, aud had his ears boxed for his' presumption. And, in all human probability, he would oiler himself to the queenly Geraldine, and the Ma-donna-like Gertrude, befoie the expiration of ilia present visit. . This hero now came into the room, looking cool and comfortable in his spotless white linen suit and broad-brimmed straw hat. He lifted his hat in honour of the minister and the lady, as he said : " Good morning 1 , reverend sir. I come to you with the apologies of Miss Greenleat. .She is engaged just now with that poor, unhappy creatme, Magdala, from Roekalone, but she will be with you in five minutes." " Mr Bowers, this is Miss Gertrude Haddon, the granddaughter of the late Gabriel JFaddon, of HadJon's Ferry," said Dr. Goodwin, presenting his ward. "Oh !— ah !-yes ! Humph ! I see ! Happy to make your acquaintance, Miss. Knew your grandfather slightly. A good man. One of the best of men, but weak, Miss— weak ! 2\o man's enemy, Miss, not even ' his own,' as the saying is. Never heard him speak ill of a human being in my life. Do believe he would speak chaiitably ot the devil. Yes, Miss, if Satan had ever assailed him with a strong temptation to murder his bitterest enemy, old Hham .Slaughter, Gabriel H addon would never have said, ' Get thee behind me,' but would have reasoned with him in something like this style : ' Satan, my distinguished friend, I have no doubt but you mean well by your counsels. ; but I think you are mistaken. Murder is disorderly. I -think if you will reilect you will see this thing in the same light that I do.' Y ok, my dear MiVs, that would have been the way in which < abriel Haddon would have met a temptation of the devil, lie would not htise been contented with resisting Satan ; he would have tried to refoun him." "My grandfather was a saint on earth, and he is an archangel in hea\cn," baid Gertrude, with meek earnestness. " Doubtless,,'' ?.?ud Ben Bower.*., quickly taking the cue from the little heiress of Haddon's Fcny, and hastening to ingiatiate himself with her. " Doubtless. lie was only too good. I had the greatest respect for him, Mi<B. And lam exe< edingly proud to make the acquaintance of his granddaughter." Gertrude bowed giavely in acknowledgment of this com tc-y. "J am told that MKs Geraldine Fitzgerald is staying here," said Dr. Goodwin, by way of changing the convocation ard relieving Goitrude. "Yes, ie\ciend sir; yes. You know since Miss Maxima Rowley has taken up her abode at Hill Top Hall, as the representative and successor of her late uncle, Geneial Hii.un Slaughter, theie is no lady at the head of the establishment at the .Summit Manor House, and MNs Fitzgerald being left without a chaperon in a v. idowcr's home, deemed that it would not. be proper for her to remain theie, notw ithstanding that the old gentleman is her guaidian, and his only son is her betrothed. So she came to Greenwood a few days ago, and has been hcie ever since," Mr Hen Bowcis explained. "Ah ! so that was the reason why the young lady changed her residence, *' lemarked Dr. Goodwin, in a tone of lelief. "To be sine it was ! Theie was an absiud rumour that a giave nmundenstanding had arisen between Colonel Fitzgerald ami his beautiful betiothed, but it was without the .slightest foundation of truth." "Gracious Hea\en ! whom have we heie?" exclaimed Dr. Goodwin, recoiling as the door was .suddenly thrown open, and a strange, wild looking creature strode into the room, and stood gazing around. It was a tall, gaunt, daik woman, apparently about forty years ol age, clothed in a tattered crimson gown, w ith her "wild, abundant black hair streaming like a meteor behind her, and her fierce black eyes flashing about from point to point, as if she were in search of some foe whom she could not find. (To be Continued.)