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CHAPTER XXXVII. — HALCYON DAYS.

The condition of a young, handsome, and rich widow hasbeen pronounoed by some cynical writers to be a rery enriable one ,* and certainly when the husband, who bat had to die in order to bring about that pleaiant state of things, had not been much beloved, there is a good deal to lay on that side of the question. Miriam St Quentin was young, handiome. rich, and *• wid&w. Was she happy, in her emancipation and her wealth ? ' The world ' — as the few people who know anything about one call them, and as we call them- — would hare been shocked just at first if it had been said that she was. It had really been, such a model marriage, and Mr St Quentin such a dear old man, that she must feel it very much ! Miriam's demeanour as a widow was no less commendable than her conduct as a wife. The period of seclusion which > custom and her own good taste assigned to her would not more than suffice for the planning and organising of h«v future life. She still believed in such possibilities : a plan,; formed in haste had succeeded to thoroughly for her, that she was convinced she had only to set about the construction of an elaborate scheme, at leisure, to be equally secure of itsrealisation. If there was any point on which her mind was thoroughly made up, it was, that she had done no moral wrong. She knew she had 1 broken human laws ; but they are nob infallible, and their intention is the prevention and the redress of injury, injustice and cruelty. They cannot take account of every vagary and contrariety of circumstance, and modify themselves accordingly. Mr St Quentin had meditated a great injury, injustice, and cruelty to her, and sbe had prevented his carrying out that intention ; against the law, indeed-, because its formula was not with bar, but not against its spirit, which is that of fairness and honesty. She would do a great deal of good with her money. That intention figured largely in her plan. Among her vagua notions of religion was an idea that God Aimighty demands a tithe of the rich for His poor, and that penalties would bo found, at the great settling of accounts, to attach to the neglect of this obligation. She would not neglect it, but fulfil it to the letter, and then go beyond it, into the spiritual realm of charity, including personal ministration and active sympathy. Miriam had no idea of restitution or reparation in all this ; she genuinely believed in her own right ; but charity was a use for wealth which was very pleasant to her. She had always helped the poor largely from her private resources, but she had never known Mr St Quentin to do so. Well, this should all be changed: There should be a fixed system, and then a liberal margin. Of course, Miriam made up her mind that she would never marry again. AH young widows form this resolution. Either the lost happiness is never to be replaced, or the memory of it repaired, or the new and delicious freedom is never to be (sacrificed to another venturesome risk : this is according to former circumstances. But Miriam had another reason, in addition to the second of these two, for arriving at this resolution. Henceforth, there must be a secret in her life ; not burdensome to her indeed, justified by her own secret knowledge, but to be known only to herself and Walter. No third person must ever share it. If she were to permit herself to love any man — and she would now marry only in obedience to that unknown sentiment and impulse — she must impart that seorefc. Instinct told her this would be impossible. You see, Miriam had as yeb Itaimed ooly elementary lessons from life, and she was still applying this line and the plummet to an edifice of which Fate was to be the real arbitary builder, while she was to look on, helpless and amazed. She was not xa absolute unbeliever in love ; she was too sensible to slip into any cynical jargon on the subject. She knew that love existed, aud formed the great principle, motive, and' |reward of many human live*. As a passion, she had little comprehension of it, and no esteem for it ; but as a strong and abiding sentiment, she regarded it with admiring respeot. But Miriam knew that one ' could not have everything in this world,' aocording to the tritt, iriio old saying, and she thought, on the whole, one might do very well without love. Her marriage had not been unhappy for want of love ; she was quite sure sbe should never have i missed that, or thought about it at all, if other drawbacks had not existed. And so, without undervaluing it in the least, she quietly put it aside, out of her calculations, in the scheme she was constructing for the future. Miriam intended to have a house in London. Sh* would retain, the aptrttneat in Paris, and divide her tim» pretty equally between the two capitals. She had not acquired » tastti urahty, and bhe was tired of travelling tbout the

coatiaeat of Europe. Far off, in the recesses of her fancy, there lurked vision* " of more extended • travel, when ene should break conventional bounds, anfl see the wonders of the earth iv the Last, aud the modern achievements of •cienoe iv tiie West; but"the»« projects were in the far future. She had to set her new h:e going, to surround herself with fre^h iiteiv«!i a.id duties, and make for herself a place in the *> t of bouety to wLa!i BL<- chose to belong In visits to thi- l'ns— vslmh bhe did w.>t, bohu-iow, i )nleiu plate as very lr, qi.-mt ur :aujh prolongad— he should find quite as much luigluh uMiutry-lifr « *he i<»ied fji In occasionally shai.n^ the homuol Flou>:iu\ Walter," aiut tt l u«ir prospective children -then.' was onl) one baby at the Fira yet~«ae should hare enough of the domesticities to pro swve her from uuwomaulj callousness and isolation. Miriam had passed months in Pans, after her roturn thithej 1 subsequent to Mr St Queutm'a death. During two months of the four, she was not alone. Miss Monitor had at length realised the dream of many years of dreary drudgery in the providing of young ladies with every aceompliahment under the sun. She had made enough money to retire from the occupation which many good peopie, whose destiny had not obliged them to keep schools, consider so very ennobling. If the honest collected testimony of school-mistresses could be procured, the result would probably be found to be the very roTorse, and these oft c > .-xcellent women would acknowledge that nothing is so conducive to a sordid turn of mind and a general attitude of Miss Monitor was perfectly honest about it all. She was not only unfeignedly delighted to have the cottage and the cow _f or which she had longed as persistently as Warren Hastings longed for Daylesford — but enchanted to have done with the occupation itself. She had never liked ' girls ' ; she inclined to believe nobody ever did like them, except their own mothers, and that in moderation, and she was frankly thankful to hare done with them for ever more. • Talk of break-ups and holidays, my dear !' she said to Minim : ' what was their escape to mine ? I'm sure it was a glimpse of heaven to feel the house so silent and so empty, and to see the box-room rid of their trunks ! It didn t last, though ; there was the clearing-up for them to come back, almost as soon as I had got it well into my mind that they werr gone. . . It was a great treat for Miss Monitor to go to Pans in the clear bright early spring-time, and to be shown everything, except the theatres and * company,' as she called it, by Miriam. She did not object to the exceptions ; the theatres would have horrified, and French 'company' would have puzzled her; and Miriam was exquisitely kind to her good friend. To think of her ever having been afraid of Miss Monitor, and having regarded her as an emporium of mysterious learning !— Miss Monitor, who, in reality, was the simplest-minded of women, though knowing in her own former department— and in comparison with whom Miriam was a perfect sage in knowledge of the world. Now that no ulterior educational object was included in her visits, Miss Monitor enjoyed the museums, the buildings, the picturegalleries, the historic monuments, with a delicious intensity j and the long drives in Miriam's luxurious carriage; when, well wrapped up in fiirs, and regardless of time and temperature, the friends visited all the environs of Pans, were especially delightful to her. There was only one particular in which Miriam did not fulfil Mis Monitor's expectations : she never talked of her lata husband, that most gentlemanly and admirable person, who had always been to Miss Monitor ihe beau ideal of all thac one could wish a husband to be, who was, well, just & little older than might have been desired. She would have liked to hear ' all the particular* '; but Miriam did not indulge her with any. With this one exception, Miss Monitor's visit to Paris had been a perfect success. It was within a few days of its close now, and Miriam was thinking, with some reluctance, which she did not analyse, that she ought to accompany her friend baok to London, and make h«r long deferred visit to the Firs. Miss Monitor's cottage and cow was at Blaekheath, and their proud proprietor was most anxious that Miriam should visit her and behold her in all the glory of possession. Miriam was tempted to accede to her request ; the cottage would furnish a sufficiently retired base of operations for her, whence she might proceed to select her own home in London, conveniently communicate with Messrs Ross and Raby, and when she must, go on to the Firs. When she must ! Had it come to this with Miriam, and had she never asked herself why, and how ? She had been wildly -anxious to see her brother, a»d be with him ; she bad been prepared to make his conduct respecting Walter the subject of a quarrel between herself and h«r late husband involving consequences which she could not calculate ; and now, she had an indescribable, unconquerable shrinking from the idea of seeing Walter, a shrinking which extended to Florence. Why was this ? Why should she contemplate calmly, whenever sh« was driven to the contemplation of it at all, more rarely as the time went by, the daed in which they had been accomplices, and yet be unable to contemplate calmly the prospect of being brought into daily contact with Walfof ? ""Tfay, above all, should she shrink from seeing Florence ? Miriam could not quite shut out those questions ; they would ask themselvoa of her ; but she dismissed them with a shrug of her shoulder^ and that ready, convenient word of explauation, ' Nervous !'

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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18740312.2.13.1

Bibliographic details
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Waikato Times, Volume V, Issue 286, 12 March 1874, Page 2

Word count
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1,854

CHAPTER XXXVII.—HALCYON DAYS. Waikato Times, Volume V, Issue 286, 12 March 1874, Page 2

CHAPTER XXXVII.—HALCYON DAYS. Waikato Times, Volume V, Issue 286, 12 March 1874, Page 2

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