CHAPTER XXXVIII. " O' BYGANE DAYS AND MF."

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 247, 17 March 1888, Page 10

CHAPTER XXXVIII. " O' BYGANE DAYS AND MF."

Early next morning he was off and up to London ; and ho made straight for Covenb Garden, and for a florist's shop there. There were two or three men about the place, and a young lady behind the counter ; and naturally ho turned to the young lady behind the counter, as likely to be more sympathetic and obliging. '• I want you to make me up a basket of flowers," said he. "If you please. About what price?" said the young lady, with amiable eyes. "Ah, we'll talk about that later on," he answered. "You see, I want it arranged according to my own fancy. I am an I artist— like yourself ; and this time you will let me have my own way about the colours." "Oh, certainly, sir —of course. Will you tell me what flowera you would like ?" she said, politely. He took a chair, and sat down at the counter ; tore a loaf out of his pocketbook ; and began to draw some lines with his pencil. "I see you hare in the M'indow all the flowers that would be necessary. Well then I want you to take a circular basket— a pretty big one— yes, that .will do — and line it with green tr.oss, leaving the moss to be the outside ring— so. Then comes a circle of white hyacinths — say about that breadth proportionately. Then comes a circle of those red tulips — a single line of them. Then comes a broader circle of white camellias. , Now for the centre : the centre is to be entirely of heart's ease — nothing else. Do you understand V "Oh, yos. I think it will be very pretty," sta was good enough to say. "I think it will." And then having her strict injunctions about choosing the freshest and choicest bloasoms, and about the careful packing 6f the basket, he turned to the proprietor- 6f the shop. He wanted a box of fruit made up— as large as one could conveniently carry—the contents, v/hite grapes, black grapes, pine-apples, and the like. Could these two packages be sent by a certain hour to Victoria Station ? He would be there to receive them and pay the messenger. When all this had been satisfactorily settled, he bad good morning to the pleasant-eyed young lady, got into the hansom again, and drove off to his studio at Notting Hill. ' As ho had left homo but the previous day, there were no letter* to be answered, nor further instructions to be given to his housekeeper ; his only business was to get out from a cabinet the rock-crystal cup whioh was the sole souvenir of a certain'memorable night. And so, when he bad got down to Victoria, and was on his journey back to Burford Bridge, he was bearing with him throe packages : one a basket of flowers for Sabina (surely, at such a time, she oduld not refuse-so simple a present?) ;' the second, abox^of fruit for the little boy. Xhfi houed ■h6,had ndfc cfre4' ! ih.; iiis Belecttori-4>ufe • grape*. ,wfcFe 3 »|?WOc»nt " enough 1 ,- ..any wayi) ; and the third a'crytftal -fchnilice, fefcfcround aJboui* with un.cu.fr-, stones., which vas to adorn Hi* .tJhriafcinaa dinrier'-table, and perhaps", in his solitude, act as a magic talisman to call up long bygone scenes (as if it were 80 difficult* for 1 him to summon back the well remembered evenings on which he and Sabina had b^eh, together !) ! Howeyor, whoriwgotf down to Burford Bridge, his conscience 1 began to smite him a little. V, Whatf 4 (^a»4o ihfchkjparb of tjhe coiihtry for !'v Hep w^ «' landscww-pftinfc^ , —with his work to do in tho world. And if

it was aa yet useless for him to unsfcrap his sketching implements, at least ho ought to be looking about the neighbourhood for possible subjocts. And so, when he had obtained a snack of late luncheon, he wont wandering carelessly out and along the road— over the bridge that spans the sluggish Mole. It is a most romarkablo circumstance that on this samo atternoon, just as the gases were being lit, Santa Claus made his appearanco in the streets of the smull town of Dorking, in actual and bodily shape, 1 hough in a guise not ordinarily attributed to him. Tho story was told by a very considerable number of children, and as on all the substantial points it was identical, it may safely bo credited. They said that as they wore looking into this or that newly-lit shop window, some one from behind tapped them on tho .shouldor ; and that, turning, they .saw a tall man — some of them called him a gentleman, but that is hardly the phrase to apply to Santa Claus — brownfaced, and black-eyed, who said, "(Jo in and buy somebhing," and put in tho hand of each of them a coin. In the surprise that followed, the stranger vanished ; but thero was tho undoubted white thing — apparently a shilling— in the palm of their hand. It appeared that most of them were for going to ask their people if it was roal ; but that here and thero a, youngster more intrepid than the rest adventured into this or that shop and asked for a pennyworth of something; and not only carao out again to show his companions his purchase, but could produce an obvious and unmistakable elevenpence of change to convince the most hesitating mind. Meanwhilo, what had become of Santa Claus ? ! Why, he had gone into tho White Horse Hotel, and was drinking a cup of toa in the bar, and asking the landlord where and when was the next meet of the foxhounds in that neighbourhood ; for he said he had boon away from England for some little time, and, now that he had come back, he thought thero was nothing in the old country he could see more English-looking, and picturedquo, and inspiriting than a ! run with the foxhounds on a clear Decem- | ber day. Lindiay's hope for the morrow was not belied. A fairer Christmas dawn never widened up and over the county of Suirey ; J and already he was on the top of Box Hill, whither he had olimbed before breakfast, ! despite the clammy and slippery and difficult chalk. The red sun rose behind heavy cloud-banks of saffron-brown, lying low along the horizon ; but over these the eastern heavens were of a clear and lambent lemon yellow, paling into a pearly grey. And there was a kind of rejoicing in the soul in looking abroad over the wido landscape, with its fields, and hedges, and farmsteads, and church-spires, and here and thero a tuft of blue smoke rising into the still air. And well ho knew what was happening in those scattered country houses, half hidden among the leafless trees. The children wore examining with delight and awe the mysterious fairy packages that had been left for them overnight at the nursery door ; the young folk were careering down the stairs, to search the pile of cards and letters on tho hall- table ; tho older people were still half-dosing and halfdreaming of former days ; perhaps some where— among the laurel bushes— or by the garden gate — there was a lover regarding a high window, and ready with a kiss to be thrown upward from eager fingertips, " Wa>s-heil '!" this solitary spectator could have called to the wide, awakening land. For ho was glad to be at home again, to be in his own country once more. The first train after morning church took him to Witstoad ; then he walked along the hard, wintry road towards the village, carrying the two packages with him. He was hardly apprehensive as to how 3he should receive him ; this was the season for the meeting of friends ; it was tho universal custom to offer little gifts at such a time ; she would take from him so simple a thing as a basket of flowers. He stopped at the little gate and rang the bell : the maid came to the door. "la Mrs Foster at home?" ho said — not anxiously. ••Yes, sir." " Can I Beo ber for a moment or two ?'' "Step inside, air, and 111 ask. What name, air ?" The next moment he had followed the little maid into the house, and was in Sabina's parlour. He put tho fruit and flowers on the table, removing the wrappers. And then glanced about the place. It waa a strange kind of drawing-room for the daughter of Sir Anthony Zembra to have. Doubtless there were many small neatnesses here and there— which he attributed to tfabina's own hand ; but the furniture was cheap and showy ; the pretentious British upholsterer had been allowed to do his worst. For a moment he thought of what a labour of love it would be if Tie were to begin the construction and beautifying of a house — somewhere on Campden Hill, for choice — with some remote hope of her one day entering it as mistress. And while the builder was at work, he would be away abroad — at Tunis, atCairo, at Smyrna — ransacking the bazaars for tugs, and hangings, and tiles, and brass work, and what not, for the proper decoration of her home. He kne\y of gome sixteenth century silk embroideries he had seen in Venice— there was an alabaster chimney-piece he had nearly brought home from Genoa, though it would have been something in the naturd of a white elephant " Please, sir," said the little maid at the door, " missis's compliments, and she will be down in a moment." Then she went away ; but she could only have gone into the neighbouring apartment ; for he could distinctly hoar her humming an air that was strangely familiar to. him. And thon he remembered. Why, this was the familiar old air with which his mother had many and many a time hushed him to sleep. And where had this small maid picked ifc up? From her mistress? Had Sabina, then, heatd some Scotch mother sing — " 0 can yo sew cushions. And can yo sow sheets?" Now that he thought of it, he was not quite sure that Janio had not mentioned it in one of her letters. The door opened and Sabina appeared. She seemed pale, reserved, and serious beyond her wont : she was loading her little boy by tho hand. " You wish to see my little boy t Hero he is." Tho child was chiefly occupied with a performing monkey in oxidised silver, one of Janio's presents ; but he came forward frankly enough. At the same time, and involuntarily, she glanced towards the table. " I have brought you a few flowers," said 'he,:lightly,' 4 'artd also some, fruit forthis youn&ater, it, it is permitted to lum; v It will be better' foi^ himtha.n : sweets, anyway.'' ' • "Oh, thank you very much," Sabina said, and she went to the table, and bent down her head over the flowers. 1 j Lindsay drew the little fellow towards him ; who could doubt that the clqar brown eyes were unmistakably Sabina's eyes? ] ♦ ' What is your name ?" " Harry," the child said, still bu»y with the monkey. '* v *. 5 And Oadsay, looking, at those -eyes, caW

to himself, " Well, my little ccharp r of course you can't know that in the years to come Cnrnryan in Galloway will be yours. And you will have to gvow up to be a brave man •—strong, and honourable, and generous towomen — and fit to be the* owner of the old tower of Carnryan. " Sabina came back. "So you preferred to stay down in the country?" she said. "Ye-." "Ib will be a lonely Christmas evoningfor you." Ho looked up suddenly, and appealed to her oyes. Was sho going to ask him to share her solitude, if only for the briefest time, say for an hour, perhaps, or a couple of hours, as the afternoon faded away to dusk, and the lamps were lit ? Ib seemed so natural a thing ! Theso two isolated eioatures, living near to each other; and this being Chri&bmas-bimo, when people aro drawn together ! But t-he noticed that look ; and insbantly her manner became more reserved than over. "Harry," she said, quickly, "you have put bhab wrong again. Come here, and I will set it right for you." Ho knew that ho had made a mistake ; yet even thin momentary slip could not account for the strange coldness, and distance, and reticence of her manner towards him, when lie began to talk to her. It was forced on him only too clearly that his presence was an embarrassment to her; when she spoke it was in a formally reserved and courteous way — she who had always been so frank and direct and straightforward. Nevertheless, the charm of the beautiful oyes, the calm forehead, and the proud, sweet mouth — the serious, grave dignity of her every movement and look- the nameless fascination that merely being near her threw over him — kept him there in spite of himself ; and also perhaps there was added some remembrance of Sabina's greater kindness to him in the bygone days. At length he rose to go ; and she accom* pained him to the door. Then, when she had bade him good-bye — and, indeed, whon he was half-way across the little patch I of garden — she seemed to relent for a moment. " Mr Lindsay !" she said. He turned. 11 I'm afraid I did not half thank yoi for bringing the fruit to tho little boy," she said, in a hesitating way. "I — I see so Sew visitors — don't think me ungrateiul " " Oh, that is all right," he said, goodnaturedly. ''Tell him to look alive and grow up, and I'll buy him a pony." Then he bade her farewell again, and went on his way. And if ho was a little comforted by that brief token of compunction (if so it might bo considered) he was none the less surprised that Sabina should | treat him in so cold a fashion. He had been scrupulous in oHering her nothing but the merest friendship. To give her a basket of flowers on Christmas Day was surely no great thing. Why, she had been far more complaisant on their coming down together in the train. And he could nob for a moment suppose that Sabina's embarrassment and reserve was owing to her having to receive him in that commonly furnished room. He walked away over the hard-!ro3ted country and round by Headley Hill and Mickleham Downs ; and when he got back to Burford Bridge, he found it was almost time for dinner. Then ho brought torth the precious cup of rock crystal and placed it among the holly berries with which the good people of the inn had decorated the table. It looked very well. It would give an air of richness and magnificence to the frugal little banquet. And he thought that whatever became of his other valuables and possessions (as to which he wa3 rather careless, for he had discovered in various distant lands that it was easy to get oa without them) this treasuro at least should remain his. It would be to him as the golben goblet of the King of Thule. " Den. Bechec nicht zugleich." But as he sate at his solitary Christmas dinner, that jewel-studded talisman proved to be, as often it had proved before, an awakener of memoiu.es ; and all the more he wondered why Sabina, who had been so gracious to him in former days, should be so unfriendly now. Again and again the lines came into his head :—: — - •' Oh dinna ye mind, lovo Gregorjr, When we sate at the wine. Wo changed our napkins frae our necks I— It s no sac lung sinsyntt." Surely it was not long since then ?— and! about her having then singled him out for very especial tavour there not be theslightest doubt. And if she could nob recall those days, at least he could — to the? minutest details. He could remember how more than once, at Mrs Wygram's, she had left tho group who were surrounding her, and crossed the room to talk to him alone* At Mrs Mellord's ball, at the Private Viewof tho Academy, at the little party in>hi* own house, and on other occasion^ she seemed to expect him to devote hinis6l£ entirely to her— which undoubtedly he had done. And now her coldness of manner* her studied retcience, not only showed that she had forgotten how in all things he had tried to please her, and amuse her, and en tertain her, how he had paid her every attention thab was possible in the circumstances, bub also they seemed to say that for the future she would rather hive none of his acquaintance. He was rather glad to have doofe with this solitary dinner ; and then he lit his pipe, and drew in the comfortable easychair to that fire of briskly-blazing log*. Forthwith (so varying are the moods of men) he began to denounce himse'f as the most ungrateful scoundrel that ever breathed. What ?— -was it the very kind ness of Sabina towards him in the past that was to be made a weapon of reproach against her now? She had given him everything: that the most exacting- friendship could demand— -80 much so that outsiders mistook tho relations between them altogether ; and these were his thanks ! And was it not natural that she should be a little embarrassed by this iufst and perhapß unexpected visit of his-? She had not got accustomed to the notion of hia being, as it were, a next-door neighbour* Then she was a young widow, living alone ; and people were always ready to balk. As for his unspoken suggestion that he should remain, and share her Christmas dinner with her, perhaps that was reallyof a naturo to startle her. And clearly — when he was coming away — she had begun to regret her excessive reserve ; and .wished to part friends. Things had come to a strange crisis indeed if he could cherish, aby grudge against Sabino, ' ; v » \'JSfo; he would set about his Work jqow, and get on with that -and •he- would beubrae familiar with the.notion of hid bei;i£ in the neighbourhood ; and by degrees fchuy might establish, the coveted and beautiful relationship of old, if nothing more. And •so he re-lit his pipe; and piled: on more logs and roots; and there grew* upbefjro his eyes a picture of Sabina standing on the - doorstep, laughing and radiant and happyeyed, while he lcjd away the youthful H»ny from the garden-gate upon tho back of ft Shetland pony. ,^ „.„:,„ 1 (To bt Continued.)