CHAPTER II. COUNTRY LIFE : AND A PROPOSAL.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 329, 29 December 1888, Page 3

CHAPTER 11. COUNTRY LIFE : AND A PROPOSAL.

The next day was Saturday, and John "proposed they should go in' t ho afternoon and see the cricket match, if Violet hod any penchant that way. 'Oh J I love oricket !' eried 1 the girl, ' especially when I know all the players.' 4 Which will certainly 1 not bo the caae on this occasion,' said her brother-in law, ' though one of them is honoured by thofaot of your acquaintance with him. 1 ' Oh, John, who can that be ?' exclaimed Violet ; a pretty pink flush of excitement coming into her face. * Only your humble servant,' he answered, bowing. 'It's a match they've got up rather in a hurry — Town v. Country. Of course, I'm in the latter eleven. I used to be rather a good bat, but I'm afraid I'm a little out of it now,' ' Of course we will go,' cried his wife ; 'why didn't you tell me you were going to play before this ?' 4 Thought you were too much taken up with your sister to have any leisure to bestow on such an insignificant creature aa your lord and master,' he answered slyly ; and hastily left the room to avoid the ball of wuol which Constance promptly aimed at him. ' What shall I wear V said Violet. 'But, Constance, how can we manage the cricket match ? I thought you said we were engaged togo to a garden-party somewhere?' 1 Why, yes, so we are ! • It's at Feiriuera. I should very much like you to <]J via grounds and the way we do these things out here. This is how we will manage to combine the two affairs : we will go to the Domain first, for .the cricket match, -.and then we will take ari omnibus to Remuera, and John shall get a, cab and fetch' upborne at seven.' „>'*'«J* ' But what; shalMwear ? " What are yon going to put on 1 ?'" risked Violet, returning to the important question of personal adornment — a question "which every woman ia bound to answer in the most individua-y becoming way. Both ladies betook- themselves to Violet's room, and speedily • decided on "the most) fascinating costume for the younger sister— an exquisitely worked cream India muslin, with many falls-of soft lace about it, infcerrspefsed with bdWs of delicate blue ribbon, hat) gloves, 1 «h'd sunshade to match. Constance decided on a dress of some open-work fabric with satin stripes, handsomely trimmed with satin ribbon and real lace, bonnet and all the etceteras in keeping. They had to go by themselves to the Domain, as John was due there before bwo o'clock, and the ladies did not care to dress until after one o'clock luncheon. "Jtohn- sent a hansom for- them, and they drove up Queen-street and Symonds-street, down the Kyber Pass and Graf ton -roads, and turned into Park-road. 4 Why, surely that is the Hospital on onr left/ said" Violet ; * I saw it coming up the harbour. What a splendid pos>ti"n it occupies, and what a grand viewtber i< nsb 'be from it ! Where w the Domain, (a - s, ?* ♦Right in front of us, 'and atrnv <. avu there on the far side of the Hospital. 1 1 ■re is the small gate. We shall drive on .< - the carriage entrance. We could go ri, h< on to the ground with the hansom, but i k no use keeping it, to we will get out and walk down.' They accordingly made their way on foot through a plantation or email wood of English oak?, pinua insignia, etc., on to the cricket ground. 'Why, it's like, an amphitheatre, with that large flat plain in the centre, and the ground eloping up all round the eiden lika seats ; and how very nifee to sit undoi ihe shade 'of the trees' and' watch^ the pame. Where's -John, do you see'bim ? ' 1 Yes," he is coming towards as from the pavilion,' said Constance. * His side must) be in. I wonder if bebas had bio innings yet 1 ' But before they met John, a gentleman {raised himself from the turf, which was pretty well covered with visitors near the 'pavilion^ 'land came towards them. * i let and, ha shook bands;- and she turned i • her sister and introduced lMr Acton,' \Ai. v rming the same ceremony with John who jusb then came up to them. • I had better 'find you a bench, if you would like ttf sit down,' eaid Mr Fowarc, with a glance of" admiration at the two ladies. • You won't, either of you improve your magnificent get up sitting on the turf.' 'Let us take a bum round the ground first,' sSid his wife. • All right,' he answered, ' I'll tote you about; I know you are longing to display your -new dress to the admiring gaze ot the good -people of "Auckland. Did Violet bring it out for you ?' ' Yes,' said Constance. 'Don't I look nice,' John ?' She added aside, seeing Mr Acton and Violet were engaged in trying to outslnno each other in raptures on the romantic beauty of the place. 1 You always look nice, dear !' John answered her, with a fond look of approval, which completely satisfied her; for llief=a two, after their six years of wedded life, 6till cared far r raore for a flattering u nrcl or loving' look from each ' other than for all th 6 honeyed words or compliments strangers could bestow on either. But, of course, John could not leave Violeb-to entertain Mr Acton, and, hearing gome, specially eulogisbio remark from thai gentleman, said,,/* If- you don't want a reporter"ffomrone"of' the daily paper* bo interview- you, and'reporfall your conversation, (\vibb._a "good deal .added which he thought you meant to have said) in the next days-i ssue,; you, will- not 'praise up the •p 'ace'so'/V&d proclainryourself a new chum.' '"Why, are all new-comers interviewed ?' asked that gentleman. ' Anyone they faticy they can get anything oub of/ said.'Mr Fewarb. '' You see we are so , close to San Francisco here, on 'the direct line, as it were, that we are in j some things rather American. Have you noticed that ?' ' Yen, I fancy I have. Bub are you playing cricket, Mr Fewart?' ' Well, I haven't been in yet ; bub it's my turn directly. If you , have no objection, I will leave my vito and sister under your care, and see how' we are getting on. Hullo !' the're's one 'of- our men' jusb bowled out,' and he went' off. 'There- are so many wickets pitched,' said Mr Acton, ' that until noV (nob being specially interested* in n!ny one of them) I have been rather mixed. Which is Mr Fewart's-game ?' , '1 really do not- know,' answered that gentleman's wife. • Oh !it must be that second one. There is my husband just going out to theni.' Mr Acton' found the ladies a bench' where they could watch the, progress of bhe match, which, to ,ono at --least of the' trio^ had become 5 the only game oh *;th"e^ ground 1 Vorth^hpbioirig.. • uTJoforbunately^J'ohnWwas o-i'ighb-' tfhenn' fie; 'said j * he**. *Vaff* "rabfrer > fcour>; ~o {^'practice'; ■ -forj

his innings was brought to an untimely -jeiid-by a Very, neat isatch off his fourth ball, latteV only one run jhad been placed to hid credit, r ., • , r _- / > , „ - , "He soon rejoined Jus party, and, after a little conversation, 'Mr Acton rose to go, > somewhat t relu r cta.nhly»",Jemarking *<that-'he had an engagement for that afternoon. •<Jt is. merely attreyotV, ,1 trust,' he said, 'as he shook' hands with Mrs Fewart. ' I lind tiny halNbroth'er has a place somewhere near lyou, and I 'am-^oing to- stay with him shortly,' when;- with your permission, I hope to renew our acquaintance.' He said goodbye to V'iolet,!>a"dding, ' And don't forget, Miss Mayson,»that I promised to help you to rind tome of the much vaunted .New Zealand ferns.' 4 John,' cried Mrs Jfewart, as soon as Mr Acton, was"out of ear shot, 'did you know who he was- all the time ?' 'Yes dear,' said he calmly. 'And why-" "didn't you tell mo at first ? ' she exclaimed, -forgetting Violet's presence, 4 when you knew 1 was so anxious.' ' Well,' he answered, in the same unmoved tones, ' I thought^ little uncertainty would heighten your interest in Violet's friend. Besides, it's much more satisfactory to find out ll all about " him for yourself, don't you think so ? ' Constance rose tup from the seat,' putting on an air of injured dignity. ' Come along, Violet,' said this now stately personage, * let us leave this insolent man to the society of his compeers ! ' and she began to move away. 'Wail one moment,' said Violot. ' Who is Mr Acton's half-brother, John ? ' 4 What, didn't he tell you that ? ' laughed her brother-in-law. ' I am afraid he has only just invented the relationship.' 'He wouldn't do such a thing,' said Violet. ' Wouldn't he ? All's fair in love and war, eh, Constance? Do yon remember the sick aunt who kept pining to see me, I had to imagine, to account for the frequent visits 1 began to pay my uncle in Brighton ? ' Constance could not help laughing at the recollection of the fictitious aunt, and as John escorted them to the gate, she begged him, when his game should be over, to get a cab and come for them. John's face fell. ' I thought I had got out of that trouble,' he said. ' Look here, I'll get the cab and wait outside, but I am not going to dress.' ' Oh, but you must dress for dinner, in any ouse,' she said. \,Well, I'll see. Ta-ta'" and lifting his hat he'vyo^nt back to the cricket ground. Violet enjoyed the garden-party extremley. She. was astonished to 'find how very little it differed from tho same sort of entertainmonb at 'Home. « She ate an ice," Vaguely wondering if she was dreaming she was in the "colonies. But when they wandered through the grounds, and ■ she „ saw the loqunts and passion-fruit,' -orange, lemon, and citron trees with 1 fchoir dark", glossy leaves and bright-coloured fruit, whilst at 'the" same time, a few exquisitely perfumed flowers still lingered on the trees — then, indeed, she felt that her visit to the North Island of New Zealand was a very real ev,ent. She was to be yet more sensible of the fact that she was not" in England before her vifcit was ended. Mrs Fewart was not '-much surprised when the guests gathered round the tables placed under'the trees, for some-refreshment to discover Mr Acton advancing towards them. ' ' She' knew her hostess was rather fond of entertaining visitors to Auckland. If they had any claim to be considered distinguished, so much the better. Mr Acton happened fo' be'"in company with rather a celebrity who had made the royage from England on the same steamer, when he was asked to this 'At Home, 1 •vhich invitation was at once made to include tho lesser light. \ Living so far from Auckland, whost population changes so continually that even the residents cannot keep count of newomersiibwas not to be wondered at that Constance found ehe was almost as great stranger to most of the guests as Violet herself. But' pretty, fascinating English, maidens never fail to attract ,a ■ certain amount of attention in the colonies, and Violet Mayson was no exception. She could converse easily on almost any subjeqb, as most well educated girls at Home can. Somehow— though the advantages in education are now pretty nearly equal in either land — the colonial young lady does not seem to develop equal powers of cbnvers'ation. with her English sister. In chaff, and badinage she con hold her own "; but — possibly in many cases from having more housework to do, or other causes — she cannot converse in the higher sense of the word. About half-past six, dressed in correct and faultless costume, appeared John, and, after apologies for to his host and hostess for his tardy arrival, carried off his wife and sister. Mr Acton was leaving at the same time, and in common courtesy the fourth seat in the cab was offered to him. Constance would have been very glad to know if there was any understanding between him and her sister, but she did not like to ask Violet, and she 1 did not guess that fear of Constance telling John, and his inevitable teasing as a consequence mado Violet refrain from imparting in confidence what were her real relations with Mr Acton, and several other little incidents of the voyage. The next day they had to decide which church they should attend. There are seven Anglican churches in the city itself, but 'as it was a warm morning they chose the nearest, St. Matthew's. In the afternoon they strolled through the Albert Park down to the Domain. Some parts of this large reserve are 'fortunately still retained pretty nearly in their native state, and Violet 'greatly admired the graceful treefeVns, karakas, purins, eucalyptus, and other native trees 'growing side by side with some of her English friends, oaks, poplars, etc The Acclimatisation Society's gardens were gay with flowers of all kinds, and the girl exclaimed at the contempt expressed by her companions for the common scarlet, geranium. ' Constance will hardly allow it in her flower garden,' said John. ' She likes the pelargoniums and things that don't grow in every ditch, like arum lilies and that geranium you so much admire.' , ' How happy the Auckland ers must be to have such- a grand wood, with so many paths all over, up and down hill, and on tho level, by a stream or not, as you like, and no horrid' placards about to bother one's life out with, *' Please keep off the grass !". " You are forbidden" to touch the flowers !" etc., etc., at each, turn.' John laughed. *Wo don't believe in that sort of thing much, except in the Albert Park ; 'but this Domain is a more free and easy sort of place, a perfect Pai adjse fdr lovers, eh Violet ?' girl crimsoned — she had a pretty' habit •of 'blushing — and answered, ' You m&y ( k'ribw j ' I'm sure / don't. What time, do we dine on* Sundays, Constance V Inoitne -evening' they walked-up to the ) Church of, ,the Holy Sepulchre, usually ' kti&fyi&'/J supply aa St. Sepulchre's, and t Violet*' remarked, 'How funny At is to see, all the churches built of wood. ' < < PerhapY^you will- build and endow a, stope cathedral,' suggested John. 'Why, haye'you a -Bishop and Dean> ancT -no cathedral ?'- inquired Violet. j ril We haveayßishopVbut no Dean, and nntp t cathedral in^He Anglican. Church' in Auck-' land. Thereto, a -pro-cathedral, * biit it's)

only ,a wopden church. In the Roman Catholic Church they have all in correct Btyle, I can assure you.' ; , As they' walked Jback^from' the service, John said he could"no"t~manage to be awayfrom hia station' much; longer, and he was sure Constance was pining for her threo children. '.Ah 1' cried Violet, ' I am longing to see them too. Fancy, I've been' 'an aunt five /years, and' never heard "myself .addressed by my. >tible yet. Do let us . go home directly. ' 'Dear me!' said her, br*dther-in-law. ' Here, Constance, take, your umbrella and prayer-book. Ill- just run on and telephone from Symonds-Btreet to have a steamer in readiness to take us down to Tauranga as soon as we reach the wharf. If there was lonly a tram running we could get there in no time.' * You'aro a perfect plague, John,' said his wife, candidly. ' You turn everything we say into something silly. We shall be quite ready to go down to Tauranga any day this week that the boat rons.' 'All right,' said John, '.fl'll take our passages to-morrow.' And the vory next afternoon saw them / on fche steamer en route to Tauranga, and I the trip was safely accomplished in about fourteen hours. ' After breakfasting at the hotel, they found their own buggy was waiting for them, and a spring cart for the luggage. John helped the.two ladies to their seats, and took the reins, giving his man ample directions as to the number of parcels and boxes which were to be brought on to the homestead as soon as they could get them from the steamer. 'la this carriage a real genuine New Zealand buggy ?' inquired Violet, with the • want-to-know-eveiyfching ' air which had distinguished her ever sinco her arrival. ' Well, yes ; it's a pretty good specimen of the genuine article. But mind you don't call it a carri >t;e ; that, for a plain roimfcry vehicle like this, would bo ' putting on frill' you know, and wo can'b stand that out here, at all/ Said Constance : * Violet reminds me rery much of our little Harold, with his never-ending ' why ' or 'what.' ' The* young lady pouted, though a8 she was on the back seat, no one' saw her. • Well, I really only ask for information, you know.' ' Are you an admirer of Dickens ?' said John laughingly. ' But now I will giv< ypu a little piece of geographical description free, gratis and for nothing. Right ' over there, about thirty miles from out place in a straight line, more or less, is Mount Tnrawera ; over there is Rotorua, ■famous for its. baths. The world renowned . Pink and \Vhite. Terraces are somewhere there,' and he pointed, with his whip beyond Rotorua; and. nearer the Tar,awera Lake. ' 'I' am afraid I am' very ignorant about New Zealand,', said Violet, ' '"but mv ignorance is shared by a great 'many people in England. Very few there have any idea what" this 'place is'lrke. I did not think ifc would' be so well cultivated so far from town.' -' ' There are some* wild 'bits too,' said Constance. ' Look over there. If yon waiit todie a romantic' death,' you can lose your way in that forest' ( They had 1 now been driving for S6me hours along afairly good "'road, and turning off through'a private laneVtamein -sight oi the 'homestead,' W6 nfe'-storled 'building, with the nearly universal ' verandahs running round three s^des. 'of it, the fourth side being taken up with the -large lean : tc ' kitchen", bath-room 'and slor.e-ropm, pahtrv and servant's ro"6m. ' ' Four wide shallow steps led up to the verandah, opposite the front' door' i which, as a matter of course, stood open all day, and very often 1 waaf not even fastened at -night.- A • wide passage, which might almost be termed a hall, ran through 'the house as far as the" lean-to, whorr a smaller passage at -right angles to it led to the back door. . Entering by the frontdoor on the right was' the pretty drawing-room, wich its 1 china-matting looking cool and plca*ant in* summer, one French window opening on to the verandah 'in front, "and the 'other on -to the side. Behind this room came two bedrooms, and bevbnd . -thorn was a laige dining-room, its bay-window fo ming a finish to that end of the verandah. On v the left of the front door was a cosy little room* "used as a Work-room' and play-room for the - children — Harold, Ernest, and baby Kathe-rine—and''-beyond' it there were three bedrooms- . It twas" a most comfortable, roomy house, and Violet was charmed with it. On the steps, as Jhe buggy drove up, stood llr Fewart's brother Claude, with the children. After Violet had been properly introduced to the family, she was escorted to the cheerful room prepared for her, and was, soon after 'summoned to lunch, for "which meal her long drive had made her quito ready. The pleasant autumn days glided a«ay only too quickly at tho homestead lb would have' been difficult to have found a happier party than the one that met every morning in the sunny dining-room for the half-past seven breakfast. For a few days Violet found the 'hour most inhospitably early, but when her Htole nephews came to know her well enough to tap at her door at seven o'clock with ' Auntie, come and see such a lovely flower I've growed in my garden,' from Harold, and in Ernest's more baby tones, ' Auntie, I've dot a flower m'oosauf, 1 she could not remain asleep, and very soon began, to think with Constance that even if the gentlemen had not to be up early — often at daybreak — and away to the farm, it was a shame to miss the very perfection of the New Zealand climate — its early mornings, especially autumn ones. Thero is not much twilight. Almost as soon as tho sunsets it begins to grow dark, and the long English summer evenings arequite unknown. But, when there is a moon, it bathes all nature in a flood of soft light, and partly -makes up. During these halcyon days John spared Claude as much as possible, to enable him to drive the ladies out in the buggy, or teach Violet to ride. Averse >a? most men are to match-making, he could not help seeing what pleasure her sister's company gave Constance, and he made various little sacrifices —of which, however, he said — to allow Claude time for courting Miss May son. Constance had made many friends round her homo, but with none was she particularly intimate ;and it was delightful to her feminine soul to have a real good innocent gossip, sure that none of her remarks would c imperfectly repeated, and mischief>made in every direction. Of course she chatted freely to her husband, but, as a' matter oi fact, she saw very little,- of ., him in the daytime, whereas Violet wasi always handy, for a few words. If she would only marry Claude, and settle near her,' it would bg bliss, indeed. ' As for Claude Himself, hejiad fallen in love at first sight with!' 'the" 'dainty English maiden, whose utter t absence of , self-con- , sciousness, comDined'with)a certaiiiyinnate modesty,' which} in 'its 'turn, was* lialf-con-cealed by her frank courtesy to all shemeb, had made a great impression .oirhira. Ho resolved to win' her for liis'wife,'if possible. 'Gertainlyv he hadi every possible advantage - on hisside' j'nvhen' household duties occupied Constance/i t fell' 4 to * Claude's lot to'enter,itaib Violet/' .<• •, i..*/ ..t <.w ,><■, <■ *>] She,' on hW-fpartpseemed by-no -means to JobjecK'to'heivjc6mpani&n,fye't> iie.<noverufolt ;< 1 ? Bure ; t)hatfl!icdid nob "appeal? as rauchtpleased, owheri^John^called'ihentw'aU'mirevtbe^nset 1 ,

•s, when i»e was pointing out its beauties tfl her. • There w;ere many picnics and dances given 1 in. her honour, and at most of th^oe she 'met' Mr Acton, who, was staying about ten miles from ; them with his hall-brother,' Captain Pin bo. -*" ' Of course, Mr JTewarfc asked these twp, gentlemen to his house and they frequently dropped in. But though carefully watched, no one could discover who had won Miss Mayson's hearb, if, indeed, anyone had yefc obtained possession of such a treasure. , One morning, when Constance and Violeb were working in the play-room, with one French window open to let in the sun, the married sister determined to bring her guest to book. J It waa late autumn then, indeed, winter, had commenced, and it was cold enough to make the wood fire, burning at one , end of j the room, a strong counter attraction to the pleasant warmth of the noon sun on that June day. After a little preliminary skirmishing, Constance proceeded to, a direct attack on that closely-guarded citadel, Violet's heart. 'Do tell me, dear,' she urged, ' are, you / engaged to Mr Acton V f ' Wouldn't' you like to know ?' retorted Vio'et; then. seeing a pained look on her sister's face, she added, ,'-No ! lam not.' • • * I am so gl,ad. . JNow all 1 want is for you to marry spine nice steady fellow and settledown -quite close to us. Wouldn't it be delightful ?' • ' Do you think I am going to throw rayBelf aw,ay on a colonial?' inquired Violet, with just a touch of scorn in her voice. _, ' No, no ; I didn't mean that. Say one who was born in England and has come to live out here.' , 'In short, a squatter or a settler; thank you,' taid the girl, much amused by the clumsy, w.ay her sister was trying to advocate Claude's canse^ and, determined to tease her, she continued, > ( ( * Very many thanks,, indeed, but I'm not going to marry a N-ew Zealand farmer. 1 At that moment Claude himself looked in at the open window. It was evident by his face that Violet's clear, incisive tones had carried her last sentence at least all toe distinctly to his ear. He had come in from the paddocks for lunch, and exchanging his he-»vy muddy boots for felt slippers, bad walked along the verandah unheard by the ,two ladies. There was an awkward pause, broken<by Constance~sayingsbe must see if lunch were not ready, and she hastily left the room, . trusting that Claude would ask for some explanation of her sister's words, and venture to propose to her. But whatever he might have intended to do was frustrated by the entrance of Mr.. Fewarb, saying,1 Where's Constance ? Hope lunch is ready ; lam as hungry as a hunter.' And in a few minutes they were all assembled in the dining-room. The children were allowed to have tlieir breakfast and mid-day meal with their parents,; their tea they had by themselves. As soon as grace had been said, Harold asked, * Father, what's a 'riiption ?' ' I don't know, my boy ;. give it another name, and perhaps I can £ell-you.' .- '-Who told you, about it?' asked, his, mother, knowing she would very~likely find out in that -way in what ■ connection the ivord had probably been used. , ' Rewi telled me there wou],d be,a /r<uption in t^he mountain, soon. . Someone .saw' the man what lives in it, and he e%id so.' 'There's some talk amongsti the Maoris ibout -an eruption this winter,' said John, , .calmly.- . ' I expect that's; the yarn lie's gob "bold of.' ■ "I I .... 'Is there any liklihood of "such a thing ?' queried Violet. ' ISTob the slightest,' answered her brother- : in-law, ; and the subject dropped. Claude, had made up hia mind that he woukTknow his fate from Violet's own lipa is "soon as possible, and tried to arrange a. ride^for that, afternoon ; but she was going ' Dut with her sister, and it was -nob. until &hey stood on the verandah for - a few minutes after dinner that evening "that he; found an opportunity to speak to her. ' Violet,' he said, ' 1 overheard a remark this morning which I want. you to explain. Have you a general. .objection to 'New Zealand farmers and settlers, or is it one in j particular you have an antipathy to ?' \ He tried to .make his voice sound careless, bub in spile of himself it trembled a little. - ' I'm sure I.don't know,' laughed the girl. 1 It'& so cold ; let's go in.' He darted into the hall, where he seized an overcoat, and flung it round her just as she was preparing to make her escape through the still open play-room window. 1 Pleise listen just one minute,' he pleaded. 'Violet, I love you with all my heart ! I believe I have dene so ever since I first saw you. Will you not try to care for me a little 1 I will only live to make you happy,' he went ori'as she was silent. 'Oh! speak one Avord 1 ; teli me you don't despise me because I am only a settler, and,' be added rather bitterly, ' not a fine London gentleman.' Violet raised her head quickly, with a sudden, half-indignant movement, and her red lips were parted to answer him, when, at that mosb eventful moment, a door waa opened down the passage, and through the stillness of the evening came the unlucky words: 'I am sure she will say "yes,"' John, and Constance crossed the hall to the night nursery. Violet sb-imped her little foot in sudden vexation. Did they think she was going to be gncn away like that? Then she would show them they were mistaken. Turning to her anxiously-expectant lover Violet bowed low, and the light from the hall-lamp flashed on her crimson face as.she moved towards the door, saying : ' Please recall what you overheard this morning, » and take that for your answer,' and, flinging the overcoat dowp on-theverandah,-She fled to her own room, and crouching in a low chair in the darkness, burst into tears-