CHAPTER XIII.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1848, 10 May 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XIII.

Herbert had spent an intoxicating evening at the cottage on Tuesday night. Alice played and sang well, though without much culture. She had a dear, sympathetic voice, and her great natural taste compelled her to play everything with soul. She would not attempt a piece until she had understood the meaning and purpose of its composer. In this she was very different from the ordinary wooden pianoforte players, whose place might well be taken with advantage by an automaton, wound up to play so many notes. The automaton would have the advantage of correctness, and an adjustment of the springs might make it throw some expression into the phrases occasionally. Even in the case of old melodies Alice quickly caught their real meaning, and was able to clothe them with a new dress, having a natural gift of barmony. Listening to her playing and conversation, Herbert acknowledged that with certain training no woman was more fitted to shine in socioty, the more so as she possessed the greatest gifts of all, judgment and self -control. It was late before Herbert got home, and when he did go to bed it was long ere he went to sleep. For a few words that Bbby — who always walked part of the way home with him — had said went to his heart, and almost wakened him from hie dream. " I will try to-morrow," said Ebby, •• if I die for it. I have experimented — four glasses of whiskey and three cloves will give me the necessary courage." What, thought Herbert, as he tossed about and watched the shadows created by the moonlight, will be the event ? What will she say ? What will arise from this? What feelings will it arouse in her heart? His conscience smote him sore for poor Ebby ; but he felt he had not, after all, been so greatly to blame. It was fate ; and so, thinking and planning, he fell off to sleep at last, and dreamt such dreams as only young lovers dream ; as we, alas 1 who are in the sere and withered leaf, need never hope to see in the silent watohes of the night "when slumber's chain has bound us." _ About twelve o'clock on Wednesday, as Herbert sat in his library trying to go over the business letters and statements brought out for his decision tiy faithful old Milburn, who would not alloY anyone to do the message except himself, V just to get a glimpse of the face he had grown to love as if it were the face of the boy he ] should have had to cheer his declining days\ he saw Ebby flying up the carriage way. Hid arms and feet were going in a marvellous manner, and it was easy to see he was greatly exoited. Herbert threw the papers away, and drew his breath. 1 Ebby 'a face was pinched' and drawn, hiseyes red and wild; and a More woe-begone person it would be «lifiioultto imagine, though at the same time th* ensemble would raise tbi laughter of the' '<■ thoughtless. \ -His - hands twitched nervouply, and there was a pupker-

>n« at the corneis of hi? month. He was 'ividently aulfering deeply, and outward appearanco makes no diffeience to fcha feelings. Che most ugly creature feels the pangs of leatb. as acutely as the most beautiful, only it is not pitied. Herbert was hardly less perturbed. He pitied Ebby from his heart, and he feared to lose his friendship. " Oh, Herbert," cried Ebby — they had called each other familiar names from the memorible Friday — " it is all over and lam lost. There is only the river or the sea for poor Eb." " I feel for you," said Herbert, his voice deep with sympathy. Ebby raised his eyes and once more met that look which had made another man of bim six days before. Almost as if by magic , his face changed — became almost joyous. "Oh," he cried, "look at me again like that, Herbert, and I will almost forget my misery. I could not go away, I could not leave you though, though — " Here he lost command of his voice, and putting his hands over his face strove to keep down his sobs. Herbert felt his heart wrung to its inmost chords. "I came to see you," said Ebby, presently, somewhat recovering his voice and looking ashamed of having been guilty of womanly emotion, " to tell you the result, and to do— I will tell you afterwards. I cannot tell you, Herbert, how dearly I loved Alice — though you will be able to understand — here his eyes sought those of Herbert which fell. I can remember her as a child, but then she was in a different position. When I came back from my travels she had become a womanly little housewife. The more I saw of her the deeper grew my passion, until I worshipped her. j The love for her grew upon me day by day. j You have seen her ; you know her qualities, which no woman I ever met possessed. Until I knew Alice intimately, until I saw her daily life, I thought little of womankind. They were to me mere toys for our pleasare, or the plagues of our lives. I must say my acquaintance with women was not large ; the lodging-house keepers supplied me with the plague portion of womankind. Alice elevated my ideas, not only of woman, but of everything, and worked a great reformation. And so it went on. But I needn't speak of it ; the experience is old, and will be repeated until the end of the world. But it was so pleasant while we wandered about together. Those days, I never ean — I never will forget." " But to day ? " queried Herbert, wishing to lead him away from brooding on the past ; " you mustered up courage ? " " I did," replied Ebby in a low voice, endeavouring to keep down his agitation. " Mrs. Mostyn does not get up till late. I went out after breakfast and got up my courage. I told you how. I could not do it otherwise. When I came back, what do you think? She was sitting in the parlour putting buttons on my shirts— l'm a frightful fellow [ for buttons. She looked so pretty, so ravishingly pretty, sitting there in her plain dark dress, her deft white fingers plying the needle. For a moment I lost my courage, just when she seemed to look through me with those dear, searching eyes of her 8. You must know that I was a little taken to drink when I came back ond went to stay with them ; and it was Alice weaned me from the devil that would have destroyed me. It was quite an accident I discovered them. I'd only been sent to their place by my mother when she was in trouble for help, and, I will say it, Aunt Mostyn always did help, though she was only a relation by marriage, not by blood; and father and mother did not deserve help. I went to lodge in the same street, and when I hoard persons named Mostyn lived there, I had a look, and recognised my aunt, though she had greatly altered indeed." " You are running away from the subject," said Herbert. " It's my style," replied Ebby. " Well, I sat opposite her for some time reading the newspaper, or rather making believe. She cast her eyed upon her work, and then I got ts looking at her till my blood got warm, and I resolved to do or die. " ' Alice,' " I said in a low voice, but lowaa it was I thought it a clap of thunder, it startled me so much. My heart went like a steam-engine. " ' Well, Eb,' she replied, looking at me again, with those eyes of hers, which made me feel as if I wanted to sink through the floor, only they were so kind. I thought I caught a sort of smile on her face. I couldn't do it that time. " ' We'll have a fine day for a drive when Herbert comes round,' I said, to turn it off. " You couldn't believe how her face brightened. "'Yes,' she replied; 'it will he pleasant. It seema to me the weather has been delightful since we knew him.' " And then we were silent again, except for the beating of my heart. I really thought she would have heard it, for it seemed to me like a Nasmyth hammer. Presently I felt myself going, and that if I was not quick I would not be able to speak my mind that day. " ' Alice,' said I again. " ' Well, Ebby,' she replied, this time looking very enquiringly at me. " I can't tell you how I did it, but I did— l ran over to her and poured out a lot of words. What they were I don't know, probably nonsense gathered from novels that didn't express my thoughts, most likely a ridiculous parody. But she understood me. She is very quiok. When I had finished she took my hand in hers and looked into my eyes, so kindly, but —but so pityingly. I felt my heart die right away in me— it ceased to beat, I thought. " * Ebby,' she said, ' this is no surprise to me ; I have seen it was coming for some time. I am sorry, Ebby, so sorry, that what you propose cannot be. I have learned to esteem you, to love you dearly as a relative and a friend, to admire a hundred good qualities in you, but I have never learned, I never will learn, to love you as a woman should her husband.' " * But,' I cried— and I felt quite eloquentgrasping at the last willow on the bank, ' that may come. We can wait ; we are both young, almost too young to marry.' " ' No, no,' she said ; 'do not be deceived. It will never come.' "•Time— 'l gasped. " •My poor Ebby,' she said, looking at me with what I may call divine pity, 'it would be cruel to lead you on with any false hope. It can never be, for — for my heart is no more free.' " I fell baok stunned. I could not say another word. Like a flash of lightning, everything flashed aoros3 my mind ; everything to which I had so long been blind — idiot that I was. I took up my hat, and ran out of the house. I wandered about for a time, and then came here — to do my duty. There was silence for some minutes : eaoh man- was busy with bis own tb.ol73b.ts. How diverse they were. Deeply as Herbert felt for Ebby, his whole heart leaped for joy, the blood coursed through his veins when that poor youth told of Alice's confession that she loved another. Herbert had known this well, but there is a magic in the expression of her love by the darling of our heart. There is no need to ask "Do you love me ?" but it is asked to elicit the delicious words " Yes, ao dearly." Ebby coughed. " I have come," said he, "to do my duty. Herbert, Alice loves you. It is fate. She would never have loved me except as a brother and a friend. It is no sacrifice, therefore, on my part to tell 70a this, to, as it were, hand ,'her over to yon/ It is.hard.at present, but in. itinieyl will/get over it. The blow has been robbed of half its, strength when I kriW it i«-

you she loves. It would have killed me had she loved another man. But I almost love you as much as I do Alice. Of course, in a different way, and when I get over the pain will be to me a great happiness to see you married. You will have children ; I will look upon you then as mine. How mad, how cheeky I wag to think Alice could love me. It is over now — all over, but you are left to me." Herbert looked pityingly, lovingly at the poor fellow, whose eyes were dimmed with fears, and whose frame trembled with emotion. Ebby met that magic glanoe, and in a moment >jf uncontrollable impulse threw his arms around Herbert, and, resting his head on hisboaom, sobbed like a child. Herbert clasped '.ii»- Ud «iosp>o tis heart, an/* kissed his fore- i heiri. •• There, there I What an ass and a fool I've made myself," said Ebby, who, for all that, felt relieved and strengthened— that kiss upon ! iis forehead seemed to have healing magic in it. "It is all over now, Herbert, and I feel to the future." " My dear Ebby," said Herbert, •' this is but one of the many trials that are ours in 'ife, and which, if used aright, refine our natures, give us a clearer insight into ourselves, and prepare us to be guides and teachers of those who have to yet experience the bitterness of life. It is the way of life, this game of cross-purposes. One must weep that another may rejoice ; one must die that another may live, and yet the tears and the death may be, though in disguise, as great blessings as the rejoicing and the life." " I can steel myself to it all," said Ebby, who had now risen ; " I feel that if I have something to do, and if I am not separated from you, all will be well. I had as well begin the trial of my self-abnegation at once. Last night, after you left, Mrs. Moatyn told me to tell you that she wanted you to see her this afternoon, on an important matter. I could not guess then, but I suppose now ifc is to speak to you about Alice." "I dtue say," replied Herbert, who had, during this interview, been endeavouring to make up his mind to a course of action, and still felt undetermined. "Well, we'll have ! lunch, Ebby, and then proceed to the cottage." At lunch Ebby was certainly the livelier of the two. We are told those broken on the wheel only feel the first few blows. So it is with mental anguish ; nature stops at a certain point, and give 3 us relief. Ebby saw now clearly enough that Alice could never have been his wife, even if Herbert had not appeared. And, though he felt the pang the lover must ever feel, he was almost happy to think the two persons he loved best were to be united. (To le continued.)