CHAPTER XXVII. (Continued.)

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 359, 13 April 1889, Page 4

CHAPTER XXVII. (Continued.)

They stepped through the open window om the smooth lawn before either of them spoke again. Then s>ho clasped his arm hysterically and exclaimed : 'Oh, Bob, I knot? what you're going: to say. You have seen your uncle, and — an"! the American plan is settled.' ' Yes, Dulcie,'' he answered gravely — ' settled, subject to your approval ; but lei n*i wait till I can toll you all the ins and outs.' Arm in arm they walked on, [till they came to a shady path, at one cud of wliiuti stood a species of little rustic summerhouses, cleverly fashioned from the dried roots of trees. Thu path wa* brilliantly illuminated, but the summcr-houso itself remained in comparative obscurity, and was thickly overgrown by creopers, whose green tendrils foimed a dente screen of verdant foliage. At a glance Bob's quick eye took in the ad\antages of the situation. ' This will do,' he saicf. ' Let us sit down here for a bit. You are not afraid of catching cold, are you, Dulcie V' ' No,' seating herself by his side. ' The night is quite warm.' • He cleared his throat, took her hand in his, and said, tenderly : 'And no>v, little woman, are you prepared to listen to something of very gi eat importance?— something which I hope and trust will affect our future prospects favourably. ' 'About your going— a — away?' she faltered, turning her head a?ide, so that he should not perceive the i*eady tears that started to her eyes at the mere thought. ' Yes. Uncle Beck with and I are to go to America together, and he promises to see me faii'ly established at the ranche. My business, during the first year, will consist in mastering every detail connected with the concern ; but at the end of that time, if things go well, I step into the berth of submanager, with a snug little income of four hundred a year. There, Dulcie, what do you say to that ?' looking at her triumphantly. 'And — when — when — do you — go?' she asked, feeling the impossibilitiy of making any direct reply to this appeal. ' Will it — be — soon ?' ' Ah, that's the worst part of the whole business, for Uncle Beckwith says he intends starting in a fortnight from now, and we are to run up to town to-morrow morning, in order to see about procuring me an outfit. I'm afraid we shan't see much more of each other, for when I return,' endeavouring to peer into his companion's still adverted face, 'it will only be to say good-bye.' She did not speak. There was a sickening sensation tearing at her heart-strings, and the unheeded tears were now raining down her cheeks: A swinging lamp, caught by a puff of wind, just then shed a sudden light on the sweet moist face, making the big drops that paused, trembling on its surface, glisten like so many liquid diamonds. • Dulcie,'' he murmured, ' what's wrong? Why are you crying ? Do you mind my going away so much as all that ?' He paused, then continued hurriedly, * Because if you would rather I should stay at home, I will chuck the whole thing up, and tell Uncle Beckwith I cannot possibly leave at present. You have only to say you wish it, and it shall be done ; for, please Cod, your happiness shall always be my first consideration, and my principal object through life.' ' ]$o, Bob, deare«t. You must go. It is best that you should do so. I can see that quite plainly ; but oh !' with a sudden relapse and a piteous little sob, which, man as he was, very nearly brought the tears to his eyes, ' I—lI — I cannot" bear the idea of parting, or of thinking what the place will be like without you.' He put his strong arm round her waist and pressed her convulsively to his heart. ' Dulcie, don't take on so, there's a darling. Remember, lam only going away to work iovyou, and prepare a home for yov, bo that two years hence, when I return — we may get married. You wou'd not like me to be an idle fellow always, would you, Dulcus? You think a man ou^ht to take his share of this world's ups and downs, and have a little energy and enterprise about him ? And now, pretty one,' imprinting a kiss on the sweet red lips so close to his own, ' before we part, I want you to make me a promise — a Facred promise — to become my dear wee wife.' For-all response, she shyly buried her burning face on his shoulder. He had kissed her, and every fibre of her nature vibrated under the influence of that embrace. 'Because, if you will,' he continued, more cheerily, 'although the sea may divide us, and we shall be many hundreds of miles apart, we can love and think of one another, and look forward hopefully to the future. Home day, darling — let some day be our motto,and remember those who have Hope on their side can never be wholly unhappy. Peihaps, having so little to offer, no settled home, no very definite prospects or assured income, I am acting wrongly in seeking to fix an engagement . upon jou. Perhaps, had you been like other girls, I might not even have wished to do so \ but you are so different, your nature is so pure and innocent and unworldly, that I feel, although we may be very, very poor to start with, and ha\e a hard struggle to make both ends meet, you will not shrink from the prospect, and that we— you and I— just by our own- two selves in a new country, with honest work filling our days and honest love our hearts, we will be supremely happy and content together. We are both young, both willing,both sanguine; surely we can both put our shoulders to the wheel and shove it round in company. What say you, Dulcie, darling? Are you willing to be a poor man's wife, a poor man's blessing, and a poor man's guai'dian angel ?' As he spoke lie loosed her from his arms, and she felt the action was intended to signify a perfect liberty of choice. But she never hesitated for a single second. ° . ' Bob,' she said, speaking in a clear, penetrating voice, ' I have no other desire, except, to be always with you. We can live upon very little, since neither of us has extravagant tastes.' The lowmusicof the distantband travelled sottly to their ears as it came borne in irregular sound-waves upon the gentle air ; while the stately trees rustled their fresh leaves,- seeming to nod in sympathy, as if enchanted by the melodious strains. Overhead the misty clouds stole slowly onward leaving bright scintillating stars to twinkle in their vaporous wake, like uncut gems BhiDing in the dark bosom of the earth. Silence reigned for a space within the summer-house— a silence fraught with that unspeakable joy which occurs when two

young hearts beat together in perfect concord, and their owners are lost to all prosaic outside impression*?. Bob was the first to speak. ' Do you like mo to kis3 you, Dulcie V he whispered under hio breath. Was there ever such a preposterous, outrageous, ytb idiotically simplo question ? For sole answer she put up her face protest-iugly. 'After all,' continued Bob, cheerfully, ' two years aie nothing. They will slip away before we know wheie we are.' ' You must promise to write to mo, Bob. 1 'Of course I shall. Just as often as ever I got a chance. And I shall oxpect you to send me an epistle by every mail, Dulcie, and then if they come in a batch I'll roll myself up snug in my buffalo hide, and spend a delightful evening reading my first real love-letter?. Won't they be nice V There is Minper, by-tho-by, I want to mako buro of hi 3 having a good home in my absence, and there's no one I would sooner leave the poor little fellow with than yourself. You'll take cure of him, won't you, Dulcie? And now and again, when you give him a bone, think of his far-off master.' 'Yes, Bob.' ' And you're not to mope, or allow your mother to worry you too much. When I come back I shall expect to find you as cheerful as a cricket.' 'You may have changed your mind by that time, and fallen a victim to the charms of some beautiful American young lady. 1 'No fear of that. I really believe,' gazing down into the depths of her dark expressive eyes, ' that you are a regular little witch, Dulcie.' She laughed, tho first genuinely happy laugh that had issued from her lips the whole evening. ' Since you are so determined, sir, on making me your wife, I must ,«et to immediately, and try and improve myself during your absence There are all sorts of things of which I am most terribly ignorant. ' ♦What things?' he asked, with a fond b .it amused smile of proprietorship, as if she already belonged to him. ' Cooking and stocking-darning, bedmaking, poultry - feeding, cow -milking, butter-churninnr, pig-rearing, kitchen gardening, and ' ' Dear me ! what a formidable list. Is that about all ?' 'All? No, of course not. I ought to acquire a smattering of ever so many more things before taking my degi'ee as a cattle rancher's '—she managed to infuse a vast amount of pride into the word — 'wife. You don't suppose, do you, that I intend going out into the Rocky Mountains, among the Red Indians, and the squaws, and the buffallo bulls ' — Dnlcie's ideas were a little vague, ' only to be a drag and a hindrance to my husband when I get there? No, certainly not.' He could not help smiling at her artless enthusiasm. ' You never would be a " drag or a hindrance " under any circumstances. The thing is utterly impossible.' ' Not at all. Supposing, now, I were to sit down in our log-hut — I presume that's correct, isn't it. Bob ? for we shan't indulge in such luxuries as bricks and mortar— well, supposing I were to sit down and want a iine lady's-maid to attend upon me, and a carriage to drive out in, and smax't gowns always to put on my back, what then ?' with a rosruish look, ' Why, I'm afraid you could not get them, Dulcie,' paid Bob, feeling perplexed at the mere suggestion of so serious a problem. ' Exactly. Therefore I must learn to become independent. P«or, dear Bob !' lovingly smoothing the fair hair back from his temples. ' You shan't have a stupid, use less wife if it be in my power to prevent it. By the- way, Bob, do you like mutton chops —a good smoking dishful of juicy mutton chops ? 'Immensely,' he replied, feeling highly diverted by the turn the conversation was taking. ' Nob greasy, or underdone, or smothered with pepper,"and burnt to a cinder?' she inquired, with increasing solicitude. • You don't like them done that way, surely ?' ' Well, no, I can't say that I do. I don't suppose anybody does, as a matter of choice. But, pray, what fresh ideas have you got in that busy little head ?' 'Mutton chops,' she continued, too overcome by the gravity of the subject to attend to this question, ' ought to be broiled over a quick fire, oughtn't they, Bob ?' ' Upon my word, Dulcie,l hardly know. I'm not much of a chef, and shall have to leave all that part of the business to you.' ' Yes, of course. That's why I msan to get Sally to teach me cooking at once,' ' I suppose you know how to cut up and quarter a beast?" said Bob, jestingly. Her face lengthened quite an inch at this idea. ' Dear me ! Bob, I'm afraid I shan't be able to manage that. I told you before how horribly, absurdly, alrocioudy ignorant I was.' 'Humph ! How many good, marbled, red and yellow sh'loins go to one prime fine bullock, Madam Housekeeper ?' ' Really, Bob, I — I — I'm not quite sure.' 'By Jove ! That's fir&t-rate, little woman,' he laughed, profiting by the occasion to inflict a surreptitious hug. *So it doesn't know all the mysteries of the butcher's profession, after all ! Bravo ! What dinners we shall have, to be sure ! Mutton-chops and beef-steaks on week-days-, and roast sirloin for Sunday lunch. Why, we shall live like fighting-cocks !' ' Now, Bob, you're laughing at my ignorance. When people are willing to learn they generally end by doing so. But you shan't know me in two years' time.' ' My darling, I am quite content with you as you are. Oh ! Dulcie, won't it be jolly, always living together ?' ' And now promise to let me see you before 1 go. You'll slip out and wish me goodbye nicely, won't you, little sweetheart?' ' Bob, when you ask me to do a thing in that way, even although I knew the thing itself be wrong, I can't resist ; so take care how you use your power.' ' Do you mean to say you won't come ?' ' No, what I meant was this : Since I frankly admib the extent of your influence, never abuse it, or ask me to do what yon yourself know to be wrong.' 'Please God, my darling,' he replied* gravely, 'I never shall. But surely you don't call it wrong ' my wishing to see you alone, when I may not have another chance of doing so for two whole years ? Think of the long toilsome days and weary nights I shall have to spend. Can you understand a man under such circumstances feeling greedy, Dulcie? Can't you understand his wanting to take all he can get whilst he has the chance, or is your love too cold to realise such a state of things ?' ' When and where shall I come to meet you ?' she said, without further hesitation. ' Be at the old clump of pine trees growing on the near side of Witherly Common, on Saturday week.' • Yes, I will be there without fa ' The sentence came to an abrupt conclusion, for even as &he spoke, and was in the act of twining her anns caressingly round Bob's neck, there — straight in front

of her, appealing like dome spirit of evil— stood Mr Denver. With a violent start she rose to her feet and, with palpitating heart, confronted him. His face was dark as night, while the strange metallic eyes shone like thoso of a, wild beast. From whence had he come ? Not along the direct path, else surely they must have heard the sound of his foot steps crunching the yellow gravel, and seen hid half-illumined form as it moved amongst the swaying lantern 3 . Altogether, there was something weird and uncanny about the manner of his appearance which sent a sudden chill through the girl's frame, and filled her with a troubled presentiment of impending misfortune. His presence broke the sweet spell undo whose enchantment she had fallen.