FOOTPRINTS; OR STOLEN AWAY.

Thames Star, Volume XIV, Issue 4622, 27 October 1883, Page 1

FOOTPRINTS; OR STOLEN AWAY.

[An Oei&inai Stout.] CHAPTER IX.— (Continued). SEARCHING. So it was but a half promise of a short call on the morrow that the ■ merchant carried back to his eager, expectant lady, but with this they must be content; as the Company were to sail for Australia. very shortly. The Conntess too, listened eagerly to the account of the child's brief history, and as the carriage roiled homeward, more than one of the silent occupants indulged in pleasant anticipations of the morrow's meeting with the manager and his lovely protege. But they were destined to be disappointed, for on maturer consideration/Mr Ebnault decided that it might not ber desirable to allow Queenie to visit the Lady Teresa. Troublesome questions might arise that would demand perplexing answers, so, with sudden change of plan, he announced his intention of leaving London by the first train for Liverpool, whence the company were to embark on board the Sea Queen for their Australian tour. The rigor of the English winter had proved detrimental to the health of little Queenie, and Mr Bonault hoped great" things from an, entire change of climate for his little pet. And if the child shrank in natural timidity from the prospect of such a long voyage, her fears were quickly overcome by her • careful guardian, who expatiated on the beauties of that distant land, and the uovelties of colonial life so successfully^ that she soon became as eager, as himself, and prepared to bid adieu to Madame Eonault, whose almost maternal kindness had won her childish affection, with buoyant hopefulness and gentle regret. It was not possible for Madame to ao company the troupe, but she was accustomed to these separations, and strove to appear calmly content, as she folded (he child to her loving heart for the last time, and gazed tenderly upon the pale features and fragile form of this highly gifted child of Nature, feeling that all remonstrance would be as foolish as futile. Thus it was that the Lady Teresa wiited in vain for a visit from the sweet little woodnymph Queen, and the fond hopes hopes of the Countess sank within her own heart in keenest pain, as a few days later she read the announcement of the departure of the Company on board the Sea Queen, bound for the sunnier lands of the Southern Seas. Bat so firm was the conviction in the mind of the Lady Inez that this was indeed the child of the erring Ferdinand and hapless Lady Codiva, that they resolved to follow in the very next vessel that should sail for Melbourne, in which resolution they wers encouraged and. ':< aided by the Lady Teresa and her busband, whose iaterest in the little one Lad been so strangely awakened. So bidding a kindly farewell to the Egmoatine's, the Countess and Inez set out on thsir voyage, hoping to discover the little pso in her hew home, and, if possible, fco fully es- - tablish their claim to her future guardianship and affection. "Beautiful child!" the Lady Teresa '» had exclaimed as she stoo& beside, her , friend on the eve of lier departure from England. "I wonder muck- wi&t wiil bo hdr destiny ? lam quite sure she is as lovely in character as in -person; that sweet face must be the index -of punty and goodness. Would that J saig-M have held her for my own ; she should faWe known no sorrow that love could shields her from, and bye-and-bye, perhaps, s'ihe would

have wedded some good and noble man, bttfc —," atad the Lady laid her head on her friend's shoulder, while her voice trembled with subdued emotion, " she should hare' chosen her life»mate, she shonld have been free and unfettered." '" # A moment she paused, then continued in timid, jet earnest tones, " Countess, you will pardon me, but I am thinking of Inez; you will be very careful never to thwart the beautiful Inez in her choice? Let her wed him,whom her soul loveth, unless the chosen one prove unworthy." Ah, how true is it that ," every heart knoweth its own bitterness;" little thought the Lady Teresa of the hidden „-sorrow that had turned the love of the beautiful Inez to bitterest gri^f, or of 'the anguish of that mother's heart for the sin of her idolised son. So they parted, each with tender memories, and.the Lady Teresa strove to fulfil her'destinyi and out of the ashes of disappointed affection, to rear the semblance of wifely love and fealty. Truly this world is a strange region of contradictions and false appearances. Some weeks passed, and then the tidings came that oarried sorrow into many homes, whither loved ones had gone forth, full of hopeful anticipations for that future they were destined never to meet, for the hapless Sea Queen floated a helpless dismasted wreck upon the false smiling waters, whose relentless waves had closed for ever upon those ambitious souls, whose trials and joys were alike ended in the calm repose of their last long slumber. While the St. Aubyn family mourned the loss of the brave noble hearted Ealph EgertoD, Madame Bonaulfc lay .on her conch, stricken with sudden illness—the result of the sad tidings of her widow* hood. And often as she thought upon . those last happy weeks, when her fond husband had spoke so hopefully of their return, the memory of little Queenie's street childish affection would mingle with this deeper sorrow, and the poor lady would wring her hands and cry in tones of tenderest sorrow, j '. . " Oh, Inez! beautiful, la petite Queenie, that such a fate should have- been thine 1 Hast thou found thy sainted mother in that land where partings are no more ? art thou restored to the fond heart that ' goffered so deeply for thy loss P Best sweet, tranquil, in thy coral bed, with the „ gad requiem of the rolling waves above thee, and God's eternal arch of blue above them all." . Sad too were the thoughts of the gentle Lady Teresa, as she sat at her writing ■ table, whereon lay.'an open diary, upon the last page of which were inscribed the tender reflections, which the memory of . little Qa'eenie had awakened. " Even so sleep, sweet, until the angel shall plaoe his foot upon the waters, and the sea shall give up its dead — " Calm thy repose, low in thy ocean bed, Bleßßed thy waking thoughts, by holy angels led; Through realmß of space, and endless joys 1 to move, , . Lost in the boundless ocean of Eternal Love."