THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 53, 6 January 1868, Page 4

THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

Chapter 111. The old couple were alone, sitting down disconsolately to their evening meal. They had heard the heavy-laden ■ carrier’s cart drive up, and hastened to the door, all joyous expectation. But their repeated anxious inquiries of the passing newly-arrived visitors were met with the same disapointing reply, that Maggie had not come with them; and at last they had given her up in despair, and slowly returned to the now deserted looking room, in mutual silence respecting each other’s grief. The uncooked rashers of tempting bacon lay unregarded on the little sidetable; and the raised pork pie, so dointly ornamented to please their pet, remained uncut before them. The strong hot tea seemed to lose its flavor, or turn disagreeably bitter by the act of filling two cups only, instead of the prepared three. And yet the sorrowing couple spoke not, nor ventured to meet one another’s eyes. A step is heard; a knock at the door; they start to their feet! Why does she not come in ? They hold their breath, transfixed betwixt hope and fear. “ She’s missed the carrier, and taken a fly,” is the one thought unanimously uppermost, and yet neither parent dares to prove its truth.

The knock is repeated, and the mother rushes impulsively to open the door; she falls back disappointedly, “0, it’s you! ” she says, with unmistakable dejection. “Yes, it’s me, Mrs Leyburn, true enough,” replies the carrier’s wife, gaily; “ I’s come to wish ye a merry Christmas, and bring ye a present, no doubt from yer darling Maggie.” “From Maggie!” cries the father, springing into sudden animation; “ she hesn’t forgotten us altogether, then wife, though she has disappointed us so by not coming. Bless the dear child! I lay she’s vexed as we are that she could’nt come.

“ Maybe there’s a letter inside, that’ll tell ye the reasonshe hesn’t coome,”said the heartless Mrs Gihhs, setting the hamper on the chair. Poor thing! my brother saw her last night—he’s coomed unexpectedly to spend Christmas ■with us—and he says she’s left her place, and were looking the very picture of unhappiness, and cried so that he couldn’t get a word out of her.” “ Left her place! and were unhappy 1 ” ; cried the mother, nervously. “Look in the hamper, missus,” said the father. “As Mrs Gibbs says, there may he a letter iu it to explain everything.” “Ay, so there may,” said his wife, fidgeting tremulously with the string. “Let me undo it for you,” said the specious Mrs Gihhs; “ you’re too nervous, and the knots are so very tight. I really think we must cut them,” sue continued, taking a knife from the table. The old man had risen, and was standing expectant by the hamper. Oh, how could that cruel woman proceed with her fiendish work!

“ Bless me, it’s all in one heap! What can it be ?” continued the carrier’s wife, as Mrs Leyburn lifted the living bundle out.

“ Where’s the letter ? There’s sure to be a letter,” said the father, poking amongst the straw. “Why, maister! father! husband! it’s a child!” screamed out the astonished mother, in hysterical dismay. ■ Wha-a-at ? ” said the thunderstruck father, standing rooted to the ground, his eyes and mouth open, and his hair almost standing on end. “ Lawk-a-massyme! A child ! Whoay, who’d ha’ thought it? Of good little Maggie, too! ” said the cruel hypocrite, tauntingly. “ It’s not hers! I’ll not believe it. It’s all a mistake! ” exclaimed the indignant Mrs Leyburn, firing up when the first shock was over.

“My Maggie’s ? No, never! ” said tLc equally confident father, with a quiet, reassuring smile. “ Who ? s can it be then, that she should send it to you? for here’s the Lunnon mark on it,” said Mrs Gibbs, pointing out the railway label. “Isn’t there a letter to explain ? I remembers now that my brother said she told him she’d a knowed he was cooming, as he’d a brought it so much more carefully. But he shall coome in hisself, and tell you all that passed, when we’ve bad tea. I must be going now, or they’ll be waiting of mo, I’s sure I wish ye ioy of yer Christmas box.”

The old man turned to the hamper, and was examining the written adifces. He waited until their tormentor had quitted tho house—•vouchsafing her never a word ia return for her taunts—and then cutting off the card, he held it heiore his wife.

“ That’s Maggie’s writing for sartain, mother,” he said, in low forced accents. “What can this strange proceeding mean?” , “ I don’t cate if it is. I’ll never believe it of her,” said the true hearted woman, rubbing the insensible infant’s hands and feet before the fire. “Nor can I, missus,” said her husband. “But it’s mighty queer, you must allow.” “ It’s all a trick or something,” said the good woman, opinionatively. “ I’ll soon find out whose the child is. Law bless the little thing! why it can’t he a month old yet.” “ Is it alive? ” said her frushand, peering curiously at it for the first tim e . “Ay, it is alive, though sleeping hard,” replied Mrs Leyhurn. “If our Maggie were ever so bad, she’s too tender a heart to abandon a wee thing like this to the cauld, and treat it i’ such a way. Why, law, maister, ye looks as grave as a judge! Surely ye don’t believe it’s her’n ? ” “ I doan’t know what to believe, missus • at the best, it’s a hngly business.” “ Now, maister, I tell yer what it is,” said the honest woman, facing round full on her husband; “ thee’s going to doubt our own Maggie, it’s a shame an a disgrace to yer. Hout upon ye, then, for a weak, ungrateful man! ” “ And what ’ll ye do wi’ the child ? ” said the husband, gathering confidence from the little woman’s energy. “Do with it ? ” said she; “ why, keep it, until we hear from Maggie whose it is. There ’ll he a letter i’ the morning, as there isn't one i’ the hamper. But look again, maister—thee may hev missed

Not a scrap of writing, however, was to he found—Mrs Gibbs had taken too good care to prevent that. “Well, it’s not like our Maggie to treat us like that,” said the mother, inclined to he vexed. “Either there’s foul play in it, or she’s a hiding somewhere, and I’ll pounce upon ns suddenlike when she thinks she puzlzed sufficiently. I wish thee’d go on to John Gibbs’s, and see Richard Sanderson, and hear what he’s got to say about her. She was always a bit of a favourite with him.”

“True, missus. I’ll goa at once. He may be able to tell us sommat about it. But how will thee tend the shop and bairn ? ”

“Well enough,” she replied. “It’s sound asleep as a top. I can leave it here.”

The old man seized his hat, and set off on his errand with a brisk step and confident heart; but as he proceeded, nodded cheerfully to -the passers-by, it struck him that they did not return his greeting quite so gaily as usual, and their voices had a tinge of pity in them; he noticed, too, that there were many little knots of neighbors gathered together here and there, and he could not help thinking that they would find it warmer, and more cheerful, by their own firesides. He ventured to hint as much to one gathering, which fell back to let him pass; but the reply that he received sent the blood tingling to his brow and ears with anything but an agreeable sensation.

“Do you find your own fireside so very cheerful to-night, Mr Leyhurn, that you are speaking from experience ? ” Did they mean anything sinister, or was it only an allusion to Maggie’s absence ? Not trusting himself to reply, he hurried on, and entered the carrier’s abode in a state of perturbation. The family party were seated at the tea-table, the dish os savoury sausage considerably diminished.

“ Good evening, neighbor’s,” said Mr Leyburn, with a forced show of cheerfalness, as he entered in obedience to the invitation of “ Come in,” elicited by his knock. “ Glad to see ye, Mr Sanderson. How do you leave yer good folks in Lunnon ?”

“ WelLand hearty, thank ye,” replied Richard; “glad that you’re looking so well, sir.”

The old man’s face was flushed by his excitement, and this allusion to it did not conduce to make him any calmer. “ And Maggie ? ” he said, coming at once to'the point. “Your sister says that you saw her last night.” “Ay, poor girl, I did, and was sorry to see her so badly and cut up.” “ Why, what ailed her, then ? ” asked the father, nervously. “ She’s said now’t of being ill in her letters.” “ It wan’t likely she wad, Mr Leyburn, in such a case as hern,” said the artful Mrs Gibbs, putting in a drop of poison. “ Don’t talk to me of that Mrs Gibbs,” said the good man, boiling with indignation. “I tell ye that it’s sinful o’ ye to be taking an innocent girl’s character away without any warranty or proof.” “Warranty or proof, indeed!” said the woman, with a mocking laugh. “ I should say ye’d enough o’ both i’ yer ain house now, Mr Leyburn, and no mistake.”

Hush, hush, Becky! ” said her brother deprecatingly. “ Poor Maggie was was always agood girl, and I’m inclined to think wi’ her father, that it’s not her bairn ”

“When ye said yersell that she were looking ill, and told ye that she’d sent a parcel whoam that ud explain all ? ” asseverated Mr Gibbs.

“ Why, she did say that, sartainly,” said Mr Sanderson, rubbing his head. “ And that -she wish’d she’d a knowed you was cooming, as you’d ha’ brought her parcel so much more carefully; and that she’d left her place, and was a-going •away, for she didn’t know how long; and that she was a-cooming whoam for Christmas, hut ahs couldn’t, and gave no reason why! ” continued Mrs Gibbs, following up her advantage gained. TO BE CONTINUED.