MUSIC HATH CHARMS
Old General Dairell liad been a man in his day, but thai day was long past. In outliving that span of We al ottcd 'by the psalmist, he had also-and this is not unusual in octogenarians— outlived his own lovable and even respectable qualities. Thirty years ago he was a brave man, a gallant leader in the field and a chivalrous enemy; but now he was a bully, and bullies are always cowards. Thirty years ago he was a good comrade, in no wise quixotic or self-sacrificing, but quite capable of occasional generous impulses; he was now no longer capable of anything of tht | sort. Thirty years aog, though a disciplinarian, he was a fairly kindhr one; now he was a tyrant of the wosf Syracusan stamp. Instead of lighting Ins country's enemies, he now fought the butcher, the baker, and the gas company; and haggled over uilmitesimal sums as if they were provinces of t e Empire. It is to be supposed that h s men in old days entertained some sent - ment for him, but they were all e.tiu dead or in a distant almshouse. In the present, the only feelings he inspired were dislike in strong-minded people and fear in weaker ones. His granddaughters, Flora and bophv, W ere fmitten to siH.echlessness before him, passionately as they rebelled in private against the dreary life he compiled then, to lead. Harry, their brother, looked forward without the slightest grief to the inevitable day when hi. grandfather must go the way of all lest For the rest, he felt less bitterly towards the old gentleman than his sisters did, but that was because he suffered less at his hands The Darrells belonged to the fighting caste, that sectun of the nation which supplies the large majority of otliccrs to our forces. For generations the Mle Uarrells had been soldiers and sallow, and brought more potential soldiers and sailors into the world as a matter of course. It had not occurred £ them since the days of -Marlborough o do otherwise. Accordingly, he present head of the family had been an artilleryman, his son a Bengal lancer, £dhis grandson was in the I rit.sl. line. The two deceased Mrs Darrells, motherin law and danghter-in-law, were as ... du ybound, the daughters respective y £«s £■;==&££ India to the tender care of t,. « vivin" grandparent; they nevei saw „( a grateful country on a n... „r J n si„n, would have probably hnx seUl down in'what the . bouse agents tenn a fe—)^ im ing-place 'or a f^ 0 "" ea ,. h ;„ iU rows of trim *« M , nnA own wrap of lawn and l o | daily dUßorge oaeh ; a rely -HM a TmthS audience. W H ». ft manor house and a fan,, ,r twoconceived himself to be under an llfcatinn nf some sort to (lenern run-ell and. having no relation or hj» ™.. rr{ thus found l,i.n-elf lord was situated in an a ? ;i<-u1t..r..l district miles from n town and Flora ami Sophy, pcrsistcnth Imt in secret, lamented the charms of Cheltenham or S(.iith=ea. "If only that unlucky old Colonel
Lee had not thought of leaving his horrid place to grandpapa," they sighed, "we might have had some fun like other girls. But here, what society is there unless you hunt? nnd grandpapa won't let us do that."
They were always imploring their brother to allow them to "come and keep house for him;" to his suggestion that the last thing he wanted was a housekeeper they turned a deaf ear. Harry himself was not as sympathetic as might be wished, as long as he was an unattached bachelor, as gay as he could compass on an allowance of £2OO a year and his pay as a subaltern in a liue regiment. But after he met Miss Smythe, lie became more alive to the crooks in his sisters' lot and the drawbacks of possessing an unmanageable grandfather. ".Marry—at your age, sir?" roared ih.it ancestor, when the existence of Miss Smythe was revealed to him. ' \ waited to marry till I was a captain." "Promotion was quicker in your day, sir," Harry was rash enough to remark. "And you forget I'm twenty-six—older than my father was when I was born." "And see what that brought your father to!" retorted General Darrell, evidently secure in an unanswerable argument. He did not explain himself dearly, but, as his son was undoubtedly dead, and unable to give an opinion on the desirability of early marriage, he had the best of it. "Xo, no, my boy; you wait till you get your company, and then pick out a woman with ten thousand a year. That's what you'll do if you have any sense." "And where," demanded Sophy, when her brother reported this conversation, "does he think you are to find a woman with ten thousand a. year in the kind of society we go out into so much?" And even the'gentler Flora shook her head and was understood to hint that the ladies with these pecuniary advantages might possibly prefer to barter them for a more agreeable grandfather-in-law tlian General Darrell.
Miss Angelica Smythe was a young woman of considerable determination. She did not belong to the fighting caste, but in those circles whom du Maurier calls the "skilled workmen of the brain." Her kith and kin varied between being barristers and artists; one cousin was fairly well known to the frequenters of oratorio as a tenor, another was on the road to being n Royal Academician, a third had already attained to being a K.C. She had seen a great deal of high Bohemia, which, far from sitting in its coat-sleeves smoking dirty clay pipes, according to the conventional ideal, is a luxurious and prosperous world and one in which the race is to be swift-witted. But she was tired of it, and fancied that she would prefer to conquer other worlds. When narry Darrell came over her horizon, he represented the charm of novelty. Opposit;on only whetted her desire to annex this unexplored territory. Flora and Sophy had never had a friend to stay with them before, for, truth to tell, they had not many girl friends. But when a cunningly concocted letter arrived from a "Miss Premier," they laid it before their grandfather as \yas intended by the ingenious writer. "You met this lady at the Vicar of Forthington's last summer, I see," remarked General Darrell, quite unsuspiciously. "Well, if she wants so much to come and spend a week-end, I suppose she must. I hope she isn't expecting anything fine. What sort of woman is she? A middle-aged spinster?" Flora, commanding a trembling voice, thought that "Miss Premier" was not very middle-aged.
Has she any money?" was the next question. Sophy did not know. "Well, she can come, tell her," returned her grandfather, "so long as-she does not bother me. Harry won't bo here, anyhow, and even if he was, she couldn't do much harm in thirty-six hours, especially with the girl he fancies he's in love with in the way."
Armed with which not very gracious consent, the girls withdrew, half-trium-phant, half-apprehensive. It seemed to them a terribly daring plan of the young woman with whom they had had it correspondence, and who, with what, seemed to them a misplaced confidence, was so certain of being their sister-in-law as to ask them to call her "Angelica" before she had ever seen them. They spent the days before her visit in a perpetual flutter Miss Smythe was a very mellow five-ar.d-twenty, having lived every day of her life to the utmost of her capability. She had had innumerable love affairs, which only failed of their proper cousummaron before the altar, because she had hitherto found it impossible to keep up her interest in them long enough. Beside her Flora and Sophy, though barely her juniors, seemed mere child- ! ren. Thev were prepared by Harry s rhapsodies" to admire her. But on seeing the coolness with which she encountered j their redoubtable grandfather, the graciousness with which she responded to his old-fashioned civilities, and the ease with which she kept the conversation at dinner, usually so disjointed and embarrassing an affair, rolling smoothly from one topic to another, each apparently more interesting than the last, they simply fell on their faces (in a figurative sense) in sheer hero—or rather heroine—worship. Miss Sniythe was certainly very astute. She deserved a bigger reward than the. hand of a poor infantry subaltern, whose most glorious prospect was that of blossoming into a country squireen. She understood General Darrell at the cud of the evening better than his granddaughters had done in two decades. She also discovered, by questions so adroitly put that none oi the party knew they were being pumped, all sorts of things about his past history and present habits, which Flora and Sophy, with all the will in the world to help her, would never have thought of telling her systematically. In the drawing-room, her sharp eyes took in everything. •And those are your fathers and mother's portraits arc they? How charming! And is not your grandmother's here, too?" •'Oh, no," responded Flora. ■J.nerc is a' picture of grandmamma in the house, but grandpapa keeps it under lock and key. Our old nurse says he never got over her death." -Do vou rcniembitr her?" asked the guest with a properly condoling glance. "Oh dear no, she died when papa was a little buy—in the sixties." ; _ ••Those were the days of crinolines, remarked Miss Sniythe thoughtful y. "Ves. How fuuny they must have looked, must they not?" ••Are you interested in those far-oil days?" inquired Sophy. -'lf so, here are some relics of them—grandmamma s old soiw-bouk. Xurse says she was particularly fond of 'Robin Adair.'" -1 am alwavs interested imjbat sort of thin"," said Miss Symthe, looking at the book, however, with a languid eye. "And have you no pictures of yourself I she added, closing and putting it by, •■or of Harry?" Her sang-froid when she spoke ot her betrothed seemed almost the most remarkable thing about her to his sisters; they hastened to drag out albums ot photographs. General Darrcll observed the oldfashioned Sunday; that is to say, ;jc went in the morning to the povertystricken little village church, dined heavilv at luncheon time, spent the afternoon in the comatose condition of the i»or«ed boa constrictor, partook of a cohf supper, and was terrifically cross all day long. At least on this particular Sunday, his granddaughters felt that the presence of a guest must restrain his more outrageous grumbles, and as they knelt in their old-fashioned pew watt-hill" their guest's decorously lowered eyes (which showed oIV particularly fine c'velashcs) they felt happier and perhaps a little more devotional than was their wont. In the afternoon it was their custom to go for a long walk. Thereby the repose of their grandfather was left u.idisturhed. It was the one chance of finding him tolerably civil at the inhospitable board over which he presided
later. ~ . This afternoon lie settled himselt m his favorite armchair in Hie drawingroom, with a handkerchief over his venerable head, and feet crossed on a footstool. A fire burnt brightly in the «rate. The house was absolutely qui-t. the maidservants having gone out to meet their voung men; outside reigned the hush that always seems to pervade the British Sabbath. The old soldier snored off into his heavy sleep. Not even a clo.-k struck to disturb him. Flora was accustomed U> take the draw-ing-room timepiece! into hot own sanctum everv Sunday morning. Ceneral Thrrcll seldom dreamed, hn.--iui< too sound a digest inn. Hut this afternoon it seemed to him that tie hail barclv closed his eyes when visions l«-«m to trouble him. They were ve--y vamic at first, flitting by him. a mere with tlwir trailing' skirts of glory snatched al once from his consciousness:
but thfiv gradually became clearer and more splendid. Faces looked out of the mist, faces of long-dead comrades-in-arms, of beloved and admired women, cf
gay friends; the atmosphere of his brave days of old surruunded him; an impression grew upon him that more was in store and I hero—ye*! was a thin soprano voice singing the cadences of "liobin Adair."
The old man opened his eyes in the deepening twilight, the coals had crashed softly tog-lher and left but a subdued orange glow in the gloom. A few gently played chords broke the silence and directed Irs eyes towards the piano. 11l the dimness lie could see a slender elegant shape amid billowing white masses on ihe piano stool. The facewas not clear, but the drooping attitude, tin; bend of the neck, the arrangement of the hair, were all familiar. There, too, again eanie the notes of the song, the thin poilrimiiie voice. Never was there a less superstitions man than General Darrell, but he could not believe himself awake. He held lu's breath not to scare the dream away. It was years since he had dreamt of that long-stilled voice.
"Just as she used to sing! Just as she used!" he exclaimed, and did not know that he spoke aloud. Then the thin voice came to him, a little muffled as if from far away. "Harry!" it said, "I must go away now." "No, stay!" lie muttered.
"Make little Harry happy, the little boy I never saw. I wish it; will you remember ?"
"Stay!" he cried, starting to his feet. He was broad awake now. liut there was no one on the piano stool. The portiere of the door close to the piano waved a little as if in a winch "I must be getting childish)' muttered General Darrell. But his hands Shook so' that he could not strike a match.
Upstairs in her room Angelica Smythe was pulling the hairpins out of her strangely arranged hair with nervous fingers. On the bed lay a billowiu" mass of white ehilTon. * °
"I wonder if it succeeded," she asked herself. "It was a very near thing, my getting away before he found out that it wasn't a ghost or a dream. Harry, my friend, if we can put our engagement in the Morning Post this week, you will have to thank vour Angelica's' always having lieen good at theatricals." She was lying curled up on her bed reading a novel some while later, when there was a knock at the door. ".May I come in?" asked Flora's voice. "Is your headache belter? Sophy and I had a delightful walk, only it got to dark." Then came Sophy's voice, breathless, as if she had just run upstairs. "Flora! Angelica! what do you think? T met grandpapa just now and he savs he won't oppose Harry's engagement any more. What ca'n have come to him ?" —Helen Forbes.
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Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 61, 12 October 1907, Page 4
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2,465MUSIC HATH CHARMS Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 61, 12 October 1907, Page 4
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