CHAPTER XXXIV.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 245, 10 March 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXIV.

rilE ISTKIIi'OSINC HAND. "MoTimß," cried Janic, bustling into iho j old-fashioned tittle dining-room in Kensing- [ toa Square, and just a littlo breathless, either from some unusual excitement, or trom quick walking;, " hero's a splendid project, now ! Phil has sent me down to tell >ou ; for we want you to help ; and if only wo succeed, won't you bo as pleased as any ot us ? Of course, iVs about Sabie ; you may be sure of that. You can't toll how distressed Phil and I havo been about her since we saw her last. Why, she has bocomo quite a diil'erent creaturo from the Sabio we used to know — you remember how proud, and merry, and self-confident she used to be— a queen wherever she went — and now she ia nervous, and terrified, and cowed ; fancy our Sabie being cowed — by a I whippo^-snappcr like that ! But it's all through her pas&ionatolove of her boy ; her alarm bowms to have got the better of her reason altogether ; you never saw anything; lileo it. I believe Foster could make her sing in the streets if he chose ; and I believe he would do it, if he thought, he could get ; any monoy by it." " But about the project, Janie?" " [ am coming to that. I had n letter from Walter Lindsay thi-> morning. He has boon away in Canada : that is why we have not heard from him for so long. And now, lie says, as we havo been talking of paying our tirst visit to Scotland, his place in Wigtons-hirc is entirely at our disposal, if ! Phil and 1 think of going round that way. ! Isn't it good of him? ilia brother-in-law, who live* there, looks after the property for him ; but there is no one living in tho house, lie .says it is a small plucc, but the grounds are pretty ; and there is a lake not ( far otl", whero wo can havo tho use of a boat. Well, wo had been rubber undoeided about j going north ; but that decided it ; nothing ever camo in so handy. You remember 1 told you Phil had boon asked by some rich picture-buyer ho knows— l forget his namo — to visit him this autumn at a place in Isluy ; and there are to be three Academicians there, for the fishing and shooting ; and Phil rather wanted to sco what that kind of life in the Highlands was like — looking on, of course, for I shouldn't think he would be much use with a rod or a gun. But whore could ho leave me? that was the question. I wasn't in the invitation ; I never saw the man ; and tho notion of my dawdling in a hotel in a Scotch town until Phil camo back didn't strike either of us as fascinating. And now do you see how Mr Lindsays letter clenched tho matter ?" " At any rate I cannot, understand how anyone should havo two houses hanging useless on his hands like that," Mrs Wygram said. " Why doesn't he come back to his own country ? ' Janie sighed. •• Why? He says he gets fresh material over there ; and sells his pictures easily. But I don't think it is that that keeps him on the other side of the Atlantic." " You have not said anything of Sabie in thi3," her mother reminded her. Janio brightened up instantly. " The moment we had settled the matter so far, Ylnl said to me ' Now, look here, if your mother could only persuade Mrs Foster to give up the charge of her child to her for that time, what is to hinder your beloved Sabie from coming along with us ? I will pay her travelling expenses ; Foster would have the whole of her income while she was away ; he wouldn't object. And then if that place in Wigtonshire turned out; to be a nicish sort of place, Sabie and you could remain there tili I got back from May.' Mother, just think of ie !" said Janie, with a little laugh of delight. "Think of Sabie and I walking over the 1 hills, and rowing in a boat on the lake, and running about the garden. It is just a dream of happiness. And then, when Phil comes back, we will al! go on together to Edinburgh, I suppose. Edinburgh and Melrose Abbey : these are the two things 1 stipulate for. Phil can settle all the rest." " And my shar*," said Mrs Wygram, with a smile, "is to take charge of the boy in London." 11 Ah, but we knew you would gladly do : that, for Sabie's sake," her daughter said. " When Phil proposed thai; she should come with us, he Mas thinking of me. She was ] to be a fcravellincr companion for me. But that, is not what I am looking forward to. I am looking forward fco getting her away for awhile from that man ; to see if we j cannot give her back a little of the cheerfulness and courage of the Sabio of old days. Of course, it will take a fearful amount of coaxing before she will agree to part with the child, even for that short time. You will have to talk her over, mother, or shall wo go down together ? You see, as soon as Phil has finished the last of the cartoons for Vernier Castle, we shall bo free ; and although we shan't be in time for him to see the shooting on the Twelfth — that is the great day, ho says— still, we should get north as soon as possible. You'll come to see us ofF at Euston, mother, Mont you ? We may have to buy some rugs and wraps for Sabie, for it's always po cold in Scotland, they say. Oh, won't ifc be tine in that railway carriage ? Phil may fall in love with i her, if he likes ; I don't care," r "Yos, that's all very well," the mother I said (and yet she was quite willing to accept her somewhat invidious share in this arrangement), "bub you are putting all the difficulties on to me. It isn't tho taking care of the little boy here -that we could manage well enough ; it's the talking Sabie over, and I don't think I shall succeed in that." j " But we must succeed, and we shall succeed, mqfcher," Janio said. "Phil lias to go down to Verner Castle this week ; as soon as, he has fixed the day, I will let you know, and we will take that day fco go to Witstead. And if you cah'h talk her into saying: yes, I will force her." " You force her J" the mother said, with a smile. ," Oh. yes I can," Janie said, confidently. " Sabie has none of her old masterful ways now. lam going to take the management of her. I will compel her to come with us." " Don't bo too harsh with her, Janie." " That is so very likely !" Then she went away with her brain very busy, and Kensington High -street became a place of dreams. What ideas Janie had formed of the region " Whore tho kingdom of Galloway's blest With the smell of bogr-inyrtle and peat," it is hard to say ; but, like most poople who have never crossed the Cheviots, she probably considered Scotland as synonymous witli the Highlands ; and no doubt had already romantic visions in her mind of beetling crags and lofty mountains and precipitous waterfalls. Had she been told thafc the people of Galloway were the kilt and talked Gaelic, she would scarcely have been surprised. Bub that was nob the point. In theso roseate forecasts of hers she wu3 thinking less of the character of the country and jits inhabitants than of her trayellin.^ about' 1 ip the 'constant "society of Sabina ; that was to be the charm of this excursion, whatever , the scenery or the people might bo like. And she could not but be struck by the curious roversal of their positions. It was Sabina who was now to be tho petted and protected one — Sabina, who used to be so headstrong in her good-humoured fashion, so self-reliant, so impf rio«» and arbitrary in her very kindness. (She, could hardly think of that gayhearted, wilful, radiant creature, m being

' ono and the same person with the poor, trembling, terror-stricken mother who had come to them but the other day, white faced and haggard-eye, to ask them whether her boy could bo taken away from her. But all these plans and forecasts were to be rudely and suddenly shattered. When she returned home, she was surprised to find her husband in the hou>e ; ordinarily, at this time of the day, he was busy in the studio. Moreover, he was clearly waiting for her. " Janie," he said, " I have opened a letter scut to you. 1 f*a\v by the outside thab it might contain news that — that would s=lartle you. I thought it better to open it " For a second her heart stood still with fear. In his hand thorn was axi envelope that was bJack- bordered. " Not iSabie '"" «lie ciied. "No," he answeied gravely. "No, but her husband " Jlo handed her the envelope, and quickly and breath lebslyblie opened it, and took out the contents. The^e wore merely a culling from a Yorkshire newspaper containing the customary li&t of Births, Deaths, and Marriages, and at the foot of the middle section was the laconic announcement : "On the 9th in»t., at Market Hatley, Mr Fied Foster, aged 29 years. " And then, on the margin of the paper, were a few words in a trembling handwriting that .she recog. niscd easily enough — "Dearest Janie — Don't como to me just yet. I will write. — S." Janie looked frightened only for a moment ; presently a kind of m onder shone in her face. " Oh, Phil," she cried, in accents that certainly did not betray much sorrow, "Sabio will come back to us — to Kensington Square — or here — will she come and live with us hero? Just think of it. We will have the old days back again — and — and I will go at once and telegraph to Walter Lindsay !" " You will do nothing of the kind ; you will do nothing so unseemly," her husband said ab once. " Are you out of your souses ? And I don't think you need make it a matter of lejoicing that you should hear of the death of a fellow-creature." "Oh, no, I don't— at least, I wouldn't, before other people," said Janie, rather incoherently. " But I thought there was no more hope in this world for my poor Sabie — and now there is — surely, surely there in, Phil. And why may not Igo and see her now ? Perhaps she has gone away north to the funeral. Then why didn't she telegraph to me to go down and take charge of the boy '( I'm sure I would have done it instantly. But most likely old Mr Foster is arranging everything for her." And then again she said, "Don't be angry with me, Phil ; but how can you expect me to be sorry ? If you only knew as I know what she has suffered ! And why may not I &end a message to Mr Lindsay?" " You know very well," her husband said. " Before even th« dead man is in his grave ! And how do you know it would be welcome ? It will be much better for you to leave things alone. " " I don't sec how it could do any harm,'* Janie feaid, wistfully. "And there's another thing I may warn you about. When you go to see your friend just you take care what you say about her deceased husband— if you want to remain her friend. It's wonderful how a woman's opinions are apt to change in a matter of this kind. She will let- her husband ill-use her for years — she may have her eyes perfectly open to all his bad and moan qualities ; but as soon as he goes and mercifully dies, its wonderful how soon all these things are forgotten, and the dear departed becomes sanctified into a hero. It isn't reasonable, of course ; but it's human nature ; and although you used always try to make out your Sabie to be a perfect goddess, without a fault, I consider her to be a very womanly woman, and I shouldn't afc all be surprised if she were to begin now and look back with regret and remorse on her treatment of Foster." " Her treatment of Foster !" Janie exclaimed. " Yes ; I say it, and I mean it. She will accuse herself of not having humoured him sufficiently, of having shown him indifference or neglect — a hundred things ; and she will think of all that was best about him ; and blame herself for the failure of their married life. So you be warned in time. Don't you say a word against him ; and don't look as if the news rather pleased you." She was rather impressed by these words of counsel. "I suppose what you say is quite right, Phil," she said, submissively. But she had to go and do some shopping, and the moment she was out of the house this moderating influence seemed to fall away from her. For she was thinking of all that had happened since Sabina's marriage; and again she saw the anguishstricken face of the mother dreading to be robbed of her child ; and again the cry rang through her brain—" Is there no pity sitting in the cloud* V ( ' There is—there is — there is !" Janie passionately said to herself ; and she had no remorse whatever in rejoicing ; the news, she declared to herself, and would hold to it, was good news. She had to pass a telegraphic office ; and there she paused for a 3econd, in wistful hesitation. It seemed such a pity thai Walter Lindsay should not know. The message need not be meant as a summons to him to some back to his own country. It would merely be information. Howcould it be unwelcome, in that sense ? Say, afc the worst, that he was engaged to be married to someone else, he could not have quite forgotten his old regard for Sabina. Surely he would be interested in learning of her fortunes. Men were fickle, as she had heard ; there had been great distances of time and space between these two ; he had no right to cherish any feeling warmer than friendship for a woman who was married. But even friendship ? Would not any friend of Sabie's beintorested ? Andsurely Walter Lindsay (if she understood him) most; of all ? So Janio argued with herself, loitering there irresolute; and then she remembered her husband's charge to her, and Bhe tore herself reluctantly away. Indeed, she was rather proud of herself in that she could thus calmly consider the hypothesis of Walter Lindsay being engaged to be married ; but, oddly enough* her next proceeding was to stop in front of a shop-window where were exhibited a number of portraits of ladies of the great world and of the stage, and to set about asking herself whether anyone of them could be compared to Sabina. This one had a royal carriage of the hoad ; that was pensivelooking, with mjstei'ious dark eyes; the other was bright, vivacious, coquettishlooking. But where was the one of them who had Sabina's charm, her bland gentleness, her gracious repose ? And then the next thing was to wonder if Walfcer'lind- ~ say* would find Sabina as beautiful as he had thought her in the former days? Philip' Haid sho was metro beautiful; but then Philip worshipped the Mater dohrostt type in women : and Janie was not at all anxious that Lindsay should be struck wiih that aspect of Sabina. Oh, no ; long before he should set eyes on her, Sabie would be back in Kensington Square ; the rose-leaf 1 tint would bo returning to her cheeks and lips: there would bo a subdued light. of happiness in the calm and benignant eyes. A« for Sabina'i golden-brown hair, that w«*

still as beautiful and abundant as ever ; not at all had troubles sufficed to interweave in it a single silver streak. Janie got hoi- shopping done, somehow ; and then she sped away home, and sought the quietude of her own room. She was ratherasuporstitious young porson, in a halfdoubting, whimsical way ; and on occasion was accustomed to consult tho sorte* Vir(jifiaiui", ah hough, not being: able to road Virgil, she had to substitute the Scriptures, as the early Christians did. It may bo added that she was not strictly methodical in hei divination ; for, instead of taking; tho first passage that met her eyes she claimed tho right of .searching tho whole of the chance-opened page for an appropriate verse -a practice which frequently got rid of enigma* and brought her instead some little comfort. So now, taking the small Bible that lay on her dressing-table, she shut her eyes, and opened the leaves at raudem When she came to look, it was a chapter 01 Isaiah that lay before her, and quickly she glanced over tho verses Tins was tho last on the page— and .lame's heart wa-= re)oiced and triad as she road and re-read the dhine promise of better things for the washed and sorrowing: City of Jerusalem — " 0 thou afflieffd, "fo^td m'fh temped, and not comforted ' bdw'cl I i -id' lot/ thy atones with fair colour*, awl lay thy j'o'nulationt with phirt*r

(J 7 o I" Continued.)