Thank you for correcting the text in this article. Your corrections improve Papers Past searches for everyone. See the latest corrections.

This article contains searchable text which was automatically generated and may contain errors. Join the community and correct any errors you spot to help us improve Papers Past.

Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

CHAPTER VI.

A SECRET REVEALED. Full soon upon that dream of .sin An awful light came bursting in ; The shrine was cold at which she knelt; The idol of that shrine was gone ; An humbled thine: of shame and guilt : Outcast nnd spurned and lone. Wrapt in the shadows of that ci'ime, AVith withered heart nnd burning brain, And tears that fell like fiery rain, She passed a fearful time. AVhittiijk.

Thus in pleasant wandering through the j wood and sweet repose beneath the trees, i the happy lovers passed the blooming months of summer and the glowing months of autumn. But when the seasons changed again, and with the last days of November came the bleak northwestern winds that stripped the last leaves from the bare trees, and covered the ground with snow and bound up the streams with ice, and drove the birds to the South, the lovers withdrew within doors, and spent many hours beside the humble cottage fireside. Here for the first time Herman had ample opportunity of finding out how very poor the sisters really were, and how very hard one of them at least worked. And from the abundance of his own resources he would have supplied their wants and relieved them from this excess of toil, bufc fchab there was a reserve of honest pride in these poor girls that forbade them to accept his pressing offers. ' Bub this is my own family now,' said Herman. ' Nora is my wife and Hannah is my sister -in - law, and it is equally my duty and pleasure to provide for them. 5 1 No, Herman ! No, dear Herman ! we cannot be considered as your family until you publicly acknowledge us as such. Dear Herman, do not think me cold or ungrateful, when I say to you that it would give me pain find mortification to receive anything from you, until I do so as your acknowledged wife,' said Nora, ' You give everything — you give your hand, your heart, yourself ! and you will take nothing,' said the young man, sadly. 1 Yes, I take as much as I ghe ! I take your hand, your heart and yourself in return for mine. That is fair ; but I will take no more until as your wife I take the head of your establishment,' Baid Nora, proudly. ' Hannah, is this right ? She is my wife ; she promised to obey me, and she defies me- -1 ask you is this right ?' ' Yes, Mr Brudenell. When she is your acknowledged wife, in your own house, then she will obey and never "defy "you, as you call it ; but now, it is quite differenfc ; she has not the shield of your name, and she must take care of her own selfrespect until you relieve her of the charge,' said the elder sister, gravely. ' Hannah, you are a terrible duenna ! You would be an acquisition to some crabbed old Spaniard who had a beautiful young wife to look after ! Now I want you to tell me how on earth my burning up that old loom and wheel and putting a little comfortable furniture in this room, and paying you sufficient to support you both, can possibly hurt herself- respect? 1 demanded Herman. •It will do more than that ! it will hurt her character, Mr Brudenell ; and that should be as dear to you as bo herself.' llt is ! it is the dearest thing in life to me ! But how should what I propose to do hurt either her self-respect or her character ? You have not told me that yet !' 1 Thia way, Mr Brudenell ! If we were to accept your offers, our neighbours would talk of us.' 'Neighbours ! why, Hannah, what neighbours have you ? In all the months that I hq,ve been coming here, I have not chanced' tp meet a single soul !' 'No, you have nob. And if you had, once in a way, met anyone here, they would have taljen you to be a mere passer-by resting yourself in our hut ; bub if you vyere to tnafce ua as comfortable as you wish, why the very first chance visitor to the hub who would see that the loom and the spinnjng-wheel and old furniture wore gone, and were replaced by the fine carpefe, curtains, chairs and sofa that you wish to give us, would go away and tell the wonder, And ppople would say—" Where did Hannah Worth got these things ?" or, "How do they live?" or, f Who f supporU those girls?" and so on. Now, Mr Brudenell, those are questions / will not hare aikbd about myself and my si&ter, and thai you ought not to wish to have asked about your wife !'

* Hannah, you are quite right ! You always are ! And yet ib distresses me to see i you living and working as you do.' ' We are inured to it, Mr Brudenell.' 'But it will not be for long, Hannah: Very soon my mother and sisters pro to take ■ possession of their new house in Washington. When they have left Brudenell, I will announce our marriage and bring you and your sister home.' ' Not mo, Mr Brudenell ! I have said before that in marrying Nora you did not marry all her poor relatives. I have told you that I will not Bhare the splendours of Nora's destiny. No one w ill have reason to say of me, as they would say if I went j home with you. that I had connived at the young heir's secret marriage with my sister for tho sake cf securing a luxurious home for myself. No, Mr Brudenell, Nora is beautiful, and it is not unnatural that the should have made a high match ; and the world will soon forgive her for it and forget her humble origin. But I am a plain, rude, hard-work-ing woman ; I am engaged to a man as poor, as rugged and toil-worn as myself. We would be strangely out of place in your mansion, subjected to the comments of your friends. We will never intrude there. I shall remain hero at my weaving until the time comes, if it ever should come, when Reuben and myself may marry, and then, if possible, we will go to the West, to better ournelves in a better country.' • Well, Hannah, well, if such be your final determination, you will allow me at least to do something towards expediting your marriage. I can advance such a sum to Reuben Cray as will enable him to marry, and take you and all his own brothers and sisters to the rich lands of the West, whero, instead of being encumbrances, they will be great helps to him ; for there is to be found much work for every pair of hands, young or old, male or female,' said the young man, not displeased, perhaps, to provide for his wife's poor relations at a distance from which they would not be likely ever to enter his sphere. Hannah reflected for a moment and then paid : • 1 thank you very much for that offer, Mr Brudenell. It was the wisest and kindest, both for yourself and us, that you could have made. And I think that if we could see our way through repaying the advance, we would gratefully accept it.' 'Never trouble yourself about the repayment ! Talk to Gray, and then, when my mother has gone, send him up to talk to me,' said Herman. To all this Nora said nothing. She sat silently, with her head resting upon her hand, and a heavy weight at her heart, such as she always felt when their future was spoken of. To her inner vision a heavy cloud that would nob disperse rested on that future. Thus the matter rested for the present. Herman continued his daily visits to the sisters, and longed impatiently for the time when he should feel free to acknowledge his beautiful young peasant-wife and place her at the head of his princely establishment. These daily visits of the young heir to the poor sisters attracted no general attention. The hut on the hill was &o remote from any road or any dwelling-house that few persons passed near it, and fewer still entered its door. It was near the middle of December, when iSJvs Brudenell was busy with her last preparations for her removal, that the first rumour of Herman's visit to the hut; reached her. She was in the housekeeper's room, super* intending in person the selection of certain choice" pobs of domestic sweetmeats from the family stores, to be taken to the townhoitse, when Mrs Spicer, who was attending her, s-iid : ' If you please, ma'am, there's Jem Morris been waiting in the kitchen all the morning fco see you.' l Ah! What does he want? A job I suppose. Well, tell him to come in here,' said the lady, carelessly, as she scrutinised the label upon a jar of red currant jelly. Tho housekeeper left the room to obey, and returned inhering in an individual who, as he performs an important part in this history, desorves some special notice. Ho was a mulatto, between forty-iivo and fifty years of age, of medium height and size, and regular features, with a quantity ot black, woolly hair and beard that hung down upon his bieast. He was neatly dressed in the gray homespun cloth of the country, and entered with u smiling countenance and a respectful manner. Upon the whole, he was rather a good-looking and pleasing darkey. He was a character, too, in his way. He possessed a fair amount of intellect, and a considerable fund of general infoimation. He had concrived, somehow or other, fco read and write ; and he would j read everything he could lay his hands on, from the Bible to the almanac. He had formed his own opinions upon most of the subjects that interest society, and ho expressed them freely. He kept himself well posted up in the politics of the day, and waa ready to discuss them with anyone who would enter into the debate. Jle had a high appreciation of himself, and also a deep veneration for his superiors. And thus it happened that when in the presence of his betters he maintained a certain sort of droll dignity in himself while treating them with the utmost deference. He was faithful in his dealings with his numerous employers, all of whom ho looked upon as so many helpless dependents under his protection, for whose well-being 1 in certain respects he was strictly responsible. 80 much for his character. In circumstances he was a free man, living with his wite and children, who were also free, in a small house on Mr Brudenell's eftate, and supporting his family by such a very great variety of labour as had earned for him the title of ' Professor of Odd Jobs.' It was young Herman Brudenell, when a boy, who gave him this title, which, from its singular appropriateness, stuck to him ; tor be could, "as he expressed it himself, 'do anything as any other man could do.' He could shoea horse, doctor a cow, mend a fence, make a boot, set a bone, fix a lock, draw a tooth, roof a cabin, drive a carriage, put up a chimney, glaze a window, lay a hearth, play a, fiddle, or preach a sermon. He could do all these things and many others besides, too numerous to mention, and he did do them for the population of the whole neighbourhood, who, having no regular mechanics, gave this ' Jack of all Trades ' a plenty of work. This universal usefulness won for him, as I said, the title of * Professor of Odd Jobs.' This was soon abbreviated to the simple ' Professor.'which had a singular significance also when applied tq one who, in addition to all his other excellencies, believed himself to be pretty well posted up in law, physic and theology, upon either of which he would stqp in his work to hqld forth tp an.yqnp, who would listen. Finally, there was another little peculiarity about the manner of the professor. In his excossive agreoab,il}ty ho woujd always prefapehjs answer to any observation, whatever with some sorb of asepnt, snob as l yo.s, sir,' pr ' yes, madam,' right or wrong, This morning the professor entered tho presence of Mv& Brudenell,, hat in hand, smiling and respectful. 1 Well, Morris, what has brought you bore this morning ?' inquired the lady.

' Yes, madam. I • been fchinkin 1 about you, and should a-been here 'fore this to see after your affairs, o'ny I had to go over to Colonel Mervin's to givo one of his horsea a draught, and then to stop at the coloured people's meetin' house to lead the exercises, and afterwards to call at the Misa Worthses to mend Miss Hannah's loom and to put a few new spokes in Miss Nora's wheel. And so many people's been after me to do jobs that I'm fairly torn to pieces among: urn. And it's " Poflessor" here, and •* Poffes3or" there, and "Poffessor " everywhere, till I think my senses will leave me, ma'am.' •Thon, if you are so busy, why do you come here, Morris?' said Mrs Brudenell, who was far too dignified to give him his title. • Yei, madam. Why, you see, ma'am, I ! came as in duty bound, to look after your affairs and see as they were all right, which they are not, ma'am. There's the rain pipes alongr the roof of the house leaking so the cistorn never gets full of water, and 1 must come and solder them right away, and the lightning rods wants fastenin' more securely, and — ' * Well, but see Grainger, my overseer, about these things ; do not trouble me with them.' ' Yes, madam. I think overseers ought to be called overlookers, because they oversee so little and overlook so much. | Now, there's the hinerefe nearly rusted off the big barn door, and 1 dareday he never saw it.' ' Well, Morris, call his attention to that also : do whatever you find necessary to be done, and call upon Grainger to e6ttlo with you. ' Yes, madam. It wasn't on'y the rain pipes and hiuges as wanted attention that brought me here, however, ma'am.' ' What was it, then ? Be quick if you please. I am very much occupied this morning.' •}'cv, madam. It was something I heard and felt it my duty to tell you : because you see, ma'am, I think it the duty of every honest — ' 4 Come, come, Morris, I have no time to listen to an oration from you now. In two words, what had you to tell me V interrupted the lady, impatiently. ' Ye<s, madam. It wore about young Mr Herman, ma'am.' 'Mr Brudenell, if you please, Morris. My son ia head of his family.' ' Certainly, madam. Mr Brudenoll.' 4 Well, what about Mr Brudcnell V * Yes, madam. You know he was away from horns every day last Hummer.' • I remember ; he went to fish, he is very fond ot fishing.' ' Certainly, madam ; but he was out every day this autumn.' 'I am aware of that. He was shooting ; he is an enthusiastic tportsman. ' *To be sure, madam ; po he is ; but he is gone every day this winter.' ' Of course ; hunting ; there is no better huntsman in the country than Mr Brudenell.' * That is very true, madam ; do you know what sort of game ho is a-huntin' of V inquired the professor, meaningly, but most deferentially. ' Foxes, I presume,' said the lady, with a look of inquiry. ' 3 r es, madam, sure enough ; I suppose they is foxes, though in female form,' said ths professor, dryly, but still respectfully. ' Whatever do you mean, Morris ?' demanded the lady, sternly. ' Well, madam, if it was not from a sense of duty, I would nob dare to speak to you on this subject ; for I think when a man presumes to meddle with things above Ins speer, he — ' ' I remarked to you before, Morris, that I had no time to listen to your moral disquisitions. Tell me at once, then, what you meant to insinuate by that strange speech,' interrupted the lady. * Fes, madam, certainly. When you said Mr Bredinoll was a hunting of foxes, I .saw at once the correctness of your suspicions, madam ; for they ?s foxes.' ' Who are foxes ?' * Why, tho xMiss Worthies, mndam.' ' The Miss Worths ! the weavers ! why, what on earth have they to do with what we have been ypeakinsr of ?' ' Yes, madam ; the Miss Worthses is the foxes that Mr Bredinell is a-huntin' of.' •The Miss Worths? My son hunting the xMiss Worths ! What do you moan, sir? Take care what you say of Mr Brudenell, Morris.' * Yes, madam, certainly ; I won't speak another word on the subject; and 1 beg your pardon for having mentioned it at all ; which I did from a sense of duty to your family, madam, thinking you ought to know it ; but lam very sorry I made such a mistake, and again 1 beg your pardon, madam, and I humbly take my leave.' And with a low bow the professor turned to depart. • Stop, fool !' said Mrs Brudenell. And the ' fool ' stopped and turned, hat in hand, waiting further orders. •Do you mean to say that Mr Brudenell crocs after those girls?' asked tho lady, raising her voice ominously. • Yes, madam ; leastaways, after Miss Nora. You see, madam, young gentlemen will be young gentlemen for all their ma's can say or do ; and when the blood is warm and the spirits is high, and the wine is in j and the wit is out — ' l\o preaching, I cay ! Vray, are you a clergyman or a barrister? Tell me at once what reason you have for saying that my son goes to Worths' cottago ?' • Yet, madam : I has seen him often and often along of Miss Nora a-walkin? in the valley forest, when I have been there myself looking for herbs and roots to make up my vegetable with. And I have seen him go home with her. And at lasb I said, ' "It is my bounded duty to go and tell the madam.'" 1 You are very sure of what }*ou say ?' • Vee, madam, sure as I am of nij life and my death.' ' This is very annoying ! very ! I had supposed Mr Brudenell to have had better principles. Of course, when a young gentleman of his position goes to .see a girl of hers, ifc can be with but one object. I had thought Herman had better morals, and Hannah at least more sense ! This is very annoying ! very !' said the lady to herself, as her brows contracted with anger. After a few moments spent in silent thought, she said : 1 It is the girl Nora, you say, he is with so much ?' •Yes, madam.' 1 Then go to the hut this very evening, and tell that girl she must come up here tomorrow to see me. I thank you for your zeal in my service, Morris, and wUI find a way to reward you. An.d now you may do my errapd. 1 1 Certainly, m,adam ! My duty to you, madam.,' eaid the professor, with a low bow, as he left the room, and hurried away to deliver his message to Nora Worth, ' This is very unpleasant,' suid the lady. ' But since Hannah has no more prudenoe than to let a young gentleman visit her sister, I rnu^t talk to the poor, ignorant child myself, and warn her that sho risks lipr. goad name, qs \ye]] a.s h,er ne.a.ce qf j niind,' [Tq he Cantwued,)

The Tailor's Goo«o— The dude. Seen, but nob heard — Barks at sen. To avoid draughts. — Don't take any. Wisdom waits to be asked for advice.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TAN18891225.2.22.2

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 431, 25 December 1889, Page 5

Word count
Tapeke kupu
3,297

CHAPTER VI. Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 431, 25 December 1889, Page 5

CHAPTER VI. Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 431, 25 December 1889, Page 5

Help

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert