CHAPTER XXXII. —'AN OLD MAN'S DARLING.'

Waikato Times, Volume V, Issue 271, 5 February 1874, Page 3

CHAPTER XXXII. —' AN OLD MAN'S DARLING.'

It was early winter time, ami tlu- air was dear, bn«h and crisply cold. Miriam was in her boudoir, a large roora * ith a richh furnished c u ..m- p>id. » We ther was a crystal fountain w eh ai il b tfo. t> -n . * ■ i*\ii goli and silver fUh disported t. 1 it. 'h-a, >>>j »i i via- t nantet bv bright-winded birds. •«« t> c * uaik.Mundo strange tropical growth- »to i .tV fi »-,-. '»" • wni banks of gorgeous bloss . ~,». il lev *iti ■ i. ming > disposed lights diaper c 1 an. j, t n, .<■ p>d >i >«a*ardH and surroundod tho fo i.i: <iii i -ui inn iribuu. nth ft i mtorTal of marble mosia< "1.0 ai •v > v.urn 'md n.-i lutnp.l the feathery rain of the iui.n' nn mtigl.- ! ih> -.onu'l «an tin cooing voices of tho doves nestling behihu me siur wuv. of their cage ; beyond the silken curtains lay the boudoir, in which every modern luxury was accumulated for the plrasur* of its owner. Things at once beautiful and precious met the eye on every side, v.d dm a'l w-»s ■•"{ thr unjires* ol supreme good taste, in hi.i-uo >_• f .i>lo , of debi.n, 01 arrangement. A wood fire burned upon tho wide lieail'i, »nd a glass screen fran.nl in an ivy wreath of malachite stood between it nnd the low chair in winch Miriam was sitting. She was leaning forward, lur eyes fifced apparently upon the rose-coloured reflection ot the Uarae m the sheet of crystal, her hands clasped around her knees. Miriam hai not \et laid aside her mourning; her rich, pluiu diesa wus black, and its sort thick iolds well became her dignified figure. Five years ago, Miriam Clint had been a handsome girl, to whom probably no one would have applied the much misused term ' beautiful.' Now she might have claimed tho epithet, fairly, in most of the positions and expressions of her face Hn 1 form. The consummate ease and tranquiht), the assured seit •possession, the habit of being implicitly obiyar\ the entire and placid consciousness of importance, to which all nolt-assertion is superfluous, of a thoroughl> jrosoerotH and well-trained womau of tin- world, were all diFcernable in Miriam St Quentin. A hasty ungraceful movement, n loud tone, a vehement expression, a gaucherie of any kind, would hiive been as impossible to lier, as if she had been born and reared in that calm world of impasstve greatness and social importance, wherein such things have no existence, to the vulgar e>e. Olever and resolute ai she was when she had made her baigain with the future, she had determined thai not o' ly woald she hare all the good things ot this life, with which her marriage could provide her, but that she would get out of them tho \er_, most they could be made to yield. And so she studied, not only what lhi! women of the great n orld, u ho hud w ealth, luxury, taste, and freedom, enjoyed, but after what fashion they enjoyed them. She had a great deal more ability than most of them, and, at this time ot her lite, quite as little heart us any, and ■ho learned the ways of them and of their world with much readiness and complet-ness. Composed, proud, exquisite in tact and manner, Miriam was now a beautiful woman, whom all 'society' everywhere admitted to be ' perfectly unarming, and who had not an intimate friend in the world excopt Florence, whom she had not seen tor teu month*. The touch of time, while it had improved her actual bemty, had added refinement to the features which hud uo classical regularity touched" tho broad temples with finer lines of thought and knowledge, deepened the searching glances of the glorious golden eyes, and »et a mark of will and decision upon the soft, lull, delicately tmtt ' hpa, hud told upon her too. Miriam had nothing girlish ieH about her looks. She wns a woman in ttie full bloom and btiengta and pride of her beauty, but a woman who looked every honr of her yearn, who was ay completely, though not oo widely, separated from girlhood as from age. She sat ktill, gfi^inrr on the little sparkles of flame refleoted in the sheet of crystal The streak ofcojour beneath her ey< lids was an delicate as ever ; buD it had deepened to-day into a resy flush, and there wag a sparkle in the fiaed eyes, whioh might have told an observer that Minam'o ruind was no 1 , so idle as her banda. The velvet table 0/ her wile was heaped with boolvs, bo )ka in Engliah bindingt, irxhures in tnoir paper covers ; a salver fulof cards and unopened notes vainly asked for her attention — she utstded none of them. Prtiaently, disturbed, it setmied, by tlae chiming of a timepiece, she rose, and wi Iked ■lowly into the conservatory, pausing before the av.arv, and idly watching Uio fi uttering of the birds. I What does it mean P' she muttered. ' What does it ritaa ? 1 think and tlu/ik ; I turn m my u.iud overj Tiß'ticle of knowledge respecting the past I have managed to acquire; 3 vmici: him closely; and )et I kujw there u so nothing going on that I cannot fathom. Tho alteration mhm maniier, ever) thing, coulh'ms tno in this belief. He v a-J e.ira ms ceased to watch mo. Why ? There never was !ibv cui»e, except in his own suspicious mmd and depraved imagination. But whence the change ?' She beul.onod to tho birds, and put her fingers though the bars of the cige. The bright- winged creatures cuqie and pecked at th' ii, nibbling the rosy finger-tips, and fluttering with joy. She presented a perfect picture of happiness, beauty, leisure, and luxury, in th>> framework of that beautiful sceup, nnd vet slid was troubled, uncertain, nervous, atraid. Ho trace of any of those feelings was to be found in her composed mien or on her beautiful face, but she knew they were there, and itie was domg battle with them by the aid of reason, and getting worsted, for they had their origin chiefly in impressions, which defied her judgment. I 1 must and will find out what he it doing ;' so ran her thoughts. ' Bianca does not know, poor ignorant wretch ; •ho is only fit for fie post of spy, not for the position of confidant. His skilful stroke of tyranny, as he thought it, in forcing me to keep her in my service, has been consummate failure. As if she could have hindered me from doing anything I chose to do, or discovered auything I chose to hide !' A faint disdainful smile crossing Miriam's lips, and in the came instant «he chirruped to the birds, and smoothed a ringdove's sleek Dead with her fair fingers. ' Who is this man who calls here so frequently, and has long conferences with him iv his study, and what arc these papers he is perpetu-illy poring over ? Can it, bo that he is meditating treachery towards me ? His relaxed vigilance and bis increased gentleness arc quite enough to set any one who tnows,him io thoroughly as I do, on the alert. My mind is so full of this, I can tliinL of nothing else It ninki-3 me forget even Florence and Wnlter. And I cannot tell her, I cannot trouble her peace and joy, after her lotiff trial And, besides, what is there to tell P It is all suspicion ; there arc no facts to lay hold of, or facts so few and slight, that I could not place them belore her as to giro thi-m the weight I know they have.' She sighed, and raining her hands higher on the wires of the cage, leaned her forehead against them, and so stood ior many minutes profoundly still. From this attitude, the entrance ef a servant, to announce thai her carriage waited, roused her, and she returned to the firpsido in the boudoir, opened the notes which lay on the tnble, glanced over them, threw them into tho fireplac -)... aiuivly left tho room. A splendid carriage, turned out m the best possible style, with superb bay horses, and servants in long coats and valuable furs, was drawn up under the white glazed portico. Presently Miriam appeared at the top of the short flight of steps, where orange-trees stood in majolica tubs on either side. She was ceremoniously escorted b\ Mr St Quentin, who handed her into the carriage with a polite and audible expression of bis regret that hu did not feel sufficiently well to accompany her in her drive. The carriage turned out of the great echoing gateway, and Miria u was thinking: ' What a pleasant drivel shall have! only I wish I knew what it is that has made him change his tactics so completely. Ihe result is so pleasant and welcome, I wish I could be satisfied there is no danger in the cause.'

I>* a vast *nd splendid apartment on the rex-de-chatisic of a Cue hotel in Parn, belonging not to the extravagant latter days of the Second Empiro, but to its more solid middle yti ti><l, wo fi.id il ruun St Quentin, a jear after her fa.,lHi's death. How much rose nblance d ><-s she bear to the hand»omo <tcliortl-(»irl I w'lo, liardly five jeara ago, lorikod at her bnpht young f»ce in tlie ulms hefore e'ie'rt*n down stairs to ts't'* 'i»r lire* lu^'n^m'^ni step iv life —the leluotion of a wsitii Vljuani ?' How m>trh, in minrl or person* What m>ti«a h»ft tune *al upo.i her face and upon her heart, in thut progression, to which standing still ib <w impwjiblc hs it i* to th« wares of the nea?