(By E. D. E. N. Southworth.) CHAPTER. UNKNOW

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 262, 9 May 1888, Page 6

(By E. D. E. N. Southworth.) CHAPTER . UNKNOW

Xow has descended a serener hour, And with rovmnir lorlum- r'netuN tedirti, While suiieving tmc theo knowledge and the pow or To s.iy let scorn be not repaid u ith <scorn. tfiu. i,l I'Y. Thk next morning the mid ioso clear and bright, with a cool and imigoiatiug air. It v/a^ the fourteenth of February—St Valentine's Hay— a mo^t. au-pieioiu- daj for the home-goint: of the weilded pair. Cierald and CJeitiude arose eatly to prepare for their drive. Old Hannibal and ilubal harne^-ed the horses to the carnage, and bioujrht it around to the front door, and put, into it such paicel* as Meta biought, tiom the hou^e for her mistre-^'s ÜbO. Aunt Jes* cooked a breakfast worthy of Soyer, ami had it loady to *ei\e hot fie moment, her mat-ter and mUtie^s make their appe.ir.-uiee. Gertrude wn* the tii -t to come dow n, and, with her old simple habit. ««he went into the kitclien to havo a last talk with -le«s She found the old woman seated in a lowchair before the iiie, engaged in watching the breakfast, and with her old hymn-book open on her lap, nooning a camp-meeting hymn that was not to be tound between the cover? — ' There w ill be no more sighing, There w ill be no inor • d.\ u\\x O\or there'

There will be no more smarting. There w ill be no more parting On or there ■' Seeing Gertrude, she exclaimed : "Hi", honey' you up and dre— ed and dow n a'leadv " And me heie almo-t -mothin* ob in\se'f a-singintr underneaf ub nn bieath. foi tear ob 't-tmbm' >ou." ' Yes, Aunt Je^ : theie, don't get up. I will tit down here, slid (Gertrude, dialing a chair to the til e and -eating her-eif, and then continuing : ' 1 have comedown, Je— . ■with Colonel Fit/gerald? full approval to ta\ tovouthatit re.-t.-with \oui\-elf alone to* remain heie at the teu\. a- hitherto, <n to go with u>« to the Summit. Dear Jes&, we want you to do just as \ou think bes>t for your o-s\ n happine^ 'Thanky'. honey! thanky" kindly. It do seem mons'ous'hard after havin' of \ou Stored to me from de mm, to hub >ou go away fo' good and all, and not _go 'long wid you," whimpered old .less, wiping her eyes'with the corner of her hymn book. ' Then come along with me, dear Jess ' T shall bo -o happy to ha\e >o-a," -aid (iertiude, laying lier hand tenderly on the old n ("nan's gay plaid turban. ' No. honey, I can't do it, chile. I can't yo long o' you." • Why not, Je-- "'" • Lav , honey. 1 staid here «o long, 1 done tnk loot! You can't move ole trees out killings! 'em, honey! Do long an" -hoi t ob it i-, honey, dough I lo\e \cn, a- de apple ob my eye, I am tooole to be uprooted and tians-pnited. "Sides v\ hieh, heie"- pool old John Biook-, what would e\ei he do without me, aftei h\in' togeddei all de-e eat hke biuddei and -i-tei ' People u-ed to ax me, win 1 didn't main .John BiookI=a\. vho—w> ' So: I thank "em. 1 had too 'much -pect for nn ole man gone to Jordan'- happ\ land, and wait in' foi me deie. I -ay one luu-band i- nutl for one oman, and a heap too much, too, when de\ drink- and l<>af». No, I wouldn't uvui\ John Hi ouk? hut no more -would 1 le^bo him." ' F>ut. le-<-, we could take John liiooko w ith u- foi tli.it matter." "And den who sjwine take caie ob de fen y ' '■' ltnule had no tune to eutei into ,ni\ e> pi .nation-, for just then Co onel Fit/j"' ' i'd - was he aid on the -tana, and Je^ .-tarted up to take the bieakta-t to the table. Fifteen minutes later (ieiald and Geitrude r-at down to an epicuiean meal— tine coffee, light rolls, Wild Ri\ei tiont, -jtnng chicken*, broiled ham, new -laid egg-, and so f or tli. Having recovered from the eriect^ of fatigue and excitement, both, to .Je— ic ■> great delight, made a \eiy good lneakfaet. After which they took leave of .]»— and John P.iooks, and entered the capiciou 5 ; tia\elling - carriage that wa- t^ con\e> them to the Summit Manor. J Won't you nebber come heie to -f-op no mote — nebber no more V' exclaimed old-k--, standing in the door and weeping, with hei apron to her eye-. ' Oh, jes, Je--. we will come back befnie the ri'-hing ,M3a&on i-> o\er, and -pend a week to enjoy the fine trout. And e\eiy \eai. during the ti-hing M^a^on, we will come down for a few week-,' said Colonel Fitzgerald, kindly. 'Oh, }es, honey, you ma\ "pend upon it. Iwilldodat.' The cairiage .started, and ('dtiudc wa\ed her hand to her old ntu-r-, who rushed back into the hou-e, -obbin^ al'uul. ( Jeiald and (ictiude occupied the capacious carriage alone togethei, and the oid coachman drove them. Meta followed in a waggon, in charge of (Jertrude-> .-ea-trunk and ( ierald - \ ah -e.-, and driven by Jubal Their way ran along the bank- of Wilde Pi\er for -eveial mile-, and then enteted upon the -teep and nanow and i-oituou-toad that led through Wild Cat Wood-, and up to the magnificent- elevated plateau oveihanging the iner, anrl upon wmch the Summit Manor Hou-e Ttood. Jt was high noon when the carnage entered the gate:- and i oiled aiound the circulai diivc, and dieu u[j befoio the ri\er front. (Serakl alighted li'-t. and opened the can Uigc dooi , and leccived (J<;iti utle in hii aim-, raying a- he kissed hei ' Welcome home, dear wife, deaie^t love ! welcome to the home that jou will biightcri all the days of your life '' ' My life hhall thank you, flfiald" whimpered, a<- the te.u-^ of mingled \<>y and grief rilled her e\e-. He led her into the hull, where the housekeeper and principal .servants were waiting to receive them. 'Are your mistress's rooms leady for her ?' demanded Colonel Fit/gerald of the old housekeeper. 'Yes, Marse Gerald, sur, Al! ready. Fires lighted since early di y momin', and all neat as a rose and warm as- a toas-'. Will 1 .show de young mist'es-5 up now ?' inquired Hetty, with a cm t-ey. ' No,' the master answered, gently. Then turning to Gertrude, he w ni^pered : ' Come, dearest, no one but mynelf hhall put you in po-^esfcion of your nest,' And he drew her arm within his and led her upstairs to a spacious suit of rooms on the right hand of the central hall, running from lront to back, and comprising bedchamber, dressing-room and boudoir, all upholstered in rosewood and rose-coloured satin and lace. Gertrude uttered an exclamation of surprise and delight, and then turned suddenly and thanked him with a child's thanks — a warm kis& and a caress. 'So you like your neet, little bird ?" he smilingly inquired.

' Oh, I have ncvor seen anything so pretty in any house !' she exclaimed. ' Except when you have looked into a mirror, little lady. But coino ! I wil ' leave you to get acquainted with you rooms/ and to see if you cannot discover some fault in them. lam going down to .sreCNton— my land steward, you know — uho i j waiting to consult, me. I will send up that small warehouse you call your seatrunk,' he added, smiling, as ho left the loom. (Jerri ude walked through her beautiful rose-coloured rooms to look at them more at her leisure. The front room was the boudoir, and its tlnee lofty front windows overlooked the w coded descent of the mountains to tho ihershoio, the river and tho Eagle Roost Ridge beyond. The middle room was tho dressing-room, tilled up \\ ith wardrobos, bureaus, mirrors, dressing tables, a bath closet and ovory i eomfoit and luxury of the toilet. The back room was tho bed-chamber, whoie three lofty back windows overlooked ;i beautiful, undulating, well-wooded and well watered country, whoso aspect was alwa>s a refreshment to the eyes. Each of these three rooms had doors leading out into the hall. Each had an open tirepl.ice, lighted up now by a bright little fue. The middle or dressing room had on each of its fireplace side windows that looked down on the gardens of the manor. (Jortnule had scarcely made theso obsor\.\tion* when Meta entered the boudoivo follow od by two men bearing the great seatrunk. Cettrude directed the girl to have it placed m the dressing-room until it could be unpacked, and its contonts transferred to bureaus and wardrobes. ' The housekeeper wants me to bay that lunch i- ready, ma'am, whene\er you are leady for it,' said Meta, when she had obeyed her mi-tre-s and di*mi«*e>i the men. •I- Colonel Fit/get aid ready V inquired Cci trade. ' 1 don t know, ma'am. Tie is talking to Mi (Kton m the stud}.' • Veiv well ; then lunch must wait till ho got- through. 1 (Jeitrude then changed her black bombar me tiavelling dre-s for a rich, black, lu-tiele-; -ilk, deeplj trimmed with crape, and wuh little ruff- and cuffs of \\ hite crepe h— e. and went down. Colonel Fit/gerald met her at the foot of the <tahs and took her into the dining100m, where lunch was waiting. Afteiwaids they spent the afternoon in going tlnough the house, (Jerald showing hoi <ill the improvements that had already been made, and asking her counsel as to other's that were in contemplation. ' "We ha\e five manors, my darling, and in rime we mu-t, as a matter of duty, as well a- ot health and pleasure, spend a por tion of each year at each place. Hut this, our old ancestral hall, should be our homo of home-. We should restore and em-belh-h every portion of the house, and sjathei into it all that can make it most attractive to a refined, intellectual and .esthetic taste," hu explained, as they went along. 'Fi\e manor-, Centld,' she repeated, gtavelv — 'h\e manors where we want but out home Ii seems unjust, (herald ; and I he.ii, with pain, that home wealthy people will U impoverished, and some aged people fit made homele-s by my legal claim upon their estate*. Let not this be, Gerald. Let the.iired lenuun in their homes for the teim (>t their natmal live-, and let >oung ehildien, wheie theio are such, not be lioughr to want that we may bo enriched,' -Ik addrd, with tear-, in the soft, brown 1 Mv '_r i| ocl little Geitiude, listen to me. Tin -c t -tate- came to u- f 1 oni our anee-»toi J , and -hould be tran-nutted to our descendant-. We have no light to break the line of -ucce-Mon b\ alienating one manor, even roi tin -aku of tho aged or the children. But ic-t ca>y, little woman. No one can be \ei\ much hurt by the le-titution of jour light-. Foi instance, though >ou are tho j he.ne«- of Summit Manor, no one i-> to be I tinned out lieic, lie added, with a singular -mile • Oh. no/ she said, shaking her head at him 'And though \ou are the lichee of Hill Top rlall, \ou have agioed to let Mi--Maxima Rowley have her life interest in that." 'Ah, \e-. 'We would not distuib hei ; could we, ( lei aid .'" 'No , but we urn t be vci y fMieful in confuting that simple life-inteie^t wlncli -i cu n - her independence for the few yearn -lie iiny -urvive Next, there is Cave Couit, now m the nominal possession of old Samuel Rowley, a bachelor of eighty. 1 think we can allot d to let him ln r e his life out in peace.' ' Ye-, }es, Gerald." ' Then, there i-> the 'Mountain Manor.' 'Your Cou-in Geialdine'-. inheritance', bur foi my coming. Oh, Geiald ! let tu> notdiitmb hei eithci.' 'Then; will be no need to do so. She ha- disturbed herself. She has shaken the du-t of Wilde county off her feet, and hagone to Wa-hington to mair) a (leunan princ with an unpiononnceable name.' ' Oh, 1 am so glad ! So she will be h.ipp\." 'Theie aie four manois piovided foi. The httli i-> m Maryland, a -tony, lonesome i-laud near the mouth of the Potomac. Now , 1 don't know who i- the nominal piopnctor of that estate. It is the least! \. iluable of all. ttnb whoever married llebece.'i Flemintr is the nominal master." ' On, Herald !' suddenly exclaimed <iertiudc, da-ping her hands. ' Why, what is the matter '!' ' Oh, what a .strange and dreadful i thing " ' What is it, my de-u child ? Why are you excited?' demanded Fifczgciald, in astonishment. 'Oh, (Jerald! do you know, then^ who manied Rebecca Fleming '!' ' Ko, Gertrude. How on earth should 1 know ?' ' I thought i might have told you. It wa- Captain Wailes— our own dear Ca,ptum Wailes- -who manied Rebecca Fleming. And we must never, iw,vd\ .\kv\kk, NEVER disturb him in his possession,' ciicd Oertrude in great agitation. 4 Ifo that ho, my little lady? Then, indeed, we must give up Stony Island- Tho man who saved your life must not bo impoveri«ed by the .simple tact of your existence.' ' 01), no, no, dear Cerald ; that would indeed be to return evil tor good. 1 ' I must warn our attorney to take no ireaMircb in that direction, then.' 'Oh, yes, indeed, Gerald. Oh, please act quickly.' ' I will go to Wildevillc and see about; it to-morrow. That will be time enough. Come, dear. It is growing dark. We vrill return to the drawing-room now, before y ou get thoroughly chilled. These shut- up rooms are damp and musty. Come doMvn to fire and light and to — dinner,' add ed (Jerald, as he drew her arm within his own and took her downstairs. After dinner they spent the evening In the drawing -room. For a while they talked of the imjxhaufctible subject, their sudden and traj ?ic parting on that awful night of the fire at sea, and on the many accidents that hiad

happened to each during tho trying year of separation. Afterwards Gorald arose, and inviting her to follow him, took hor to the back division of the drawing-room, in which stood the grand piano. ' I want you to try this instrument, Gertrude,' he said, as ho opened it and drow the stool to its place. ' I have not practised, or had tho opportunity to practise, since wo loft Europo, oxcopt on one evening during tho wook of my stay with the Flemings, at San Francisco. lam afraid that my hand has ' forgot its cunning,' ' said Gertrude, as she took her seat and ran her fingers over the keys. ' Thoso nimble fingers have not lost their skill ; but what do you think of the instrument ?' ho inquired. ' [t seems to mo to bo simply perfect,' she answered. 'Here i* some standard old music anil excellent new. Make your own selection,' he said, as he laid a pile of loose sheets before her. She looked over them and linally selected the evening hymn of Mozart, which she sang and played with oxquisito sweetness and fervour. Selections from Haydu and Handel followed. And then Gerald gently removed tho music, saying : 1 1 will not tux you farther to-night, love. havo proved that the instrument is a good one, and that your hand has not lost its cunning, nor your voice its treshness and melody.' Sho arose with a smile, and he closed the piano. So passed their first calm, happy day at home. Had Gertrude forgotten her father, then ? No, indeed. Brief as hor acquaintance had been with him, sho thought of him with the most tender aflection, not as ' dead and gone,' to use the common phrase, but (being purified in the fiery trials of hU earthly life) as passed into a higher state of being, as living happy, and often, though unseen, present with her. With her homo, and its sublime scenery without, and its comforts, elegancies and luxuries within, she was as much delighted as a child would have been with such a change from the plainness, almost ruieness, of her former dwelling-place. And I with her husband she seemed in hea\on. | Only one ' still voice 'in her soul wai ned her that even joy must be tempeied, or on thi* earth it would not last. Within the next few days our little lady of the Manor received many calK Wedding calls, indeed, vetenoi. in order, since the husband and wife had been j mairied more than two year.-; nor weie I visits of congratulations upon their ici union, for since that happy e\ent they had i suflered a bereavement; but visits? ot conI dolcnce from friend* .md kinsfolk- weic exactly right, and these poured in upon the pair; foi all Wilde county wa« mure or less akin to them, and all wished to_ establish visiting relations with the wealthiest house in the countiy. Gertuulo received all comers with t he quiet courtesy peculiarly her own, and by her manner charmed and won all hearts.