CHAPTER III.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2110, 16 January 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER 111.

GEORGE. In a few days Miss Williams felt almost Ht home at Narbrough. They were all \ory kind to her, and the children, though wonderfully backward in the way of education for these day, were yet clever and willing to be taught. Dolly. the second gill, in especial, had quite a fierce detiro for learning, and often po/./led her young governess by the depth and profundity of her question". In truth, Miss Williams, unaccustomed to tuition, would in many families have been discharged at once as incompetent and useless. She had by no means all the accomplishments >,ho professed to tea* h at her finger ends ; but then there was no one at tho Vicarage able to find this out, and a very little Ficncli and Italian went a long way with the chikl'vn. She also played incorrectly, but sing with £.rci>t sweetness and expression. Her voice was so pure and true, that people were never tired of listening to her simple ballads, and the Vicar was cspeciilly charmed with them. ' I have heard so much aboulTyou, Miss Williams, lasts night and this morning, fiom my wife and children, that I assure you I pay you i high compliment when I tell you lam not disappointed." Such had been tho first salu^if.on she had received from tho Vicar of Narbrough. Spoken with the air and manner of a gentleman, but lolled out with a broad Noithumberhmd "burr," and agoonapanied by a heaity handshake. A tall, stout, burly man of fifty was the Vicar, with a twinkling grey eye, and a clean-sha\en face, and the usual high family nose remarkably developed. He wore the cloth of his profession, but a velveteen shooting-coat would have suited better his well-formed figure. He made no profession of being a religious man, but had gone into the church as a means of livelihood, and had accepted the family living in exactly the samo spirit as he had accepted the fivo thousand pounds which his father, the old Sir Hugh, had also provided for hie younger -on. He was sarcastic and clover, and though he would notr>admit it, decidedly a bit of a philosopher. That is, he made the be«.t of his ltfe and 6i his position, and troubled himself very little about other people's concerns, excepting when they chanced to affect his own j comforte or pleasure. He was an idle man al ; o, loving his pipe and. hi 3 ease, and made it no secret that his sermons were purchased, and his duties a boie. But he was popular — popular among the hearty country squires, who liked the paison'.s sly jokes and highly .seasoned talk, and invited him to their dinners, their coursing matters and their meets He did npt, however, hu.it, out of respect of his means of living, but was a f unous fisher, and spent many hours daily, when he had the opportunity, .it his f.ivourito spot. Mi-s William" soou liked tho Vicar. He was always agreeable to every pretty woman hi Crime near ; so ho was very agreeable to her. Ho paid her compliment*, and amused her by his humour and disci etion. He told her she sang like an angel — but never expected her to believe him, and forgot himself all his fine speeches tho moment after they were made. As for the children, they were delighted with their new Goveines 0 , for Misb Williams possessed "all the qualities most taking to the young. She was very pretty, and naturally sweet tempered and obliging, nnd wished also to win their heart", and remain in the quiet spot which seemed like a heaven of re«t to her after her stormy past. She had, too, a vein of sentimental fancies, which for her benefit she clothed in the most wonderful faiiy loro she could invent. For liour;? she and her four pupils would sit together ou the sands, while she told thorn tales of lovely mermaids and mermen haunting the twilight shore ; and they would listen in their country walks to hear tho harebells ring to Munition the fragile inhabitants of the flowers and shells to their midnight dances. Dolly, iudced, had her doubts about the.se thing.--, and did not hesitate to ex-pre-s them, hut Milly, the delicate little gn 1, was a firm believer, and once lifted up her large serious eyes to Miss Williams, and caused her a sudden pang of conscience by saying, ' But Miss Williams, are fairies liko angels ? Like the angels George tells me about, ministering spirits, and always about u<s, ready to put down in God's Book every good thing that we do !-' Then Miss Williams was fain to confess that ' George's ' teaching were better that her-, and perhaps more befitting this lovely child, who might so soon be called' upon to join that heavenly host. It wag stiaugo how among tho three healthy, robust ones, who had their quarro.l'', their fits of temper, and their jealousies, as high spirited children will, that none of them ever felt any of these things to Milly. She was as one set apart, as it were — the little peace-makor and love-maker to them all, and her beauty was equally remaikable. She was like the rest, yet unlike them. Instead of their brilliant colou^ her complexion was pure as a white rose, while her features were more regular, and her expression inoro touching and refined. But oh ! what anxious eyos followed her. If she was a .shade moro whito and feeble than usual, Miss Williams could see Mrs Manners lriving declared from the first that from nine to twelve ' was enough of it for them all ;' and they therefore generally spent the most of tho afternoon upon the shore. The long blue line of ocean which Miss Williams had seen on her arrival at Narbrofigh station, sti etched out for miles and miles distant in view from the Vicarage windows, the sands not being more than a quarter of a mile from the house, aud the children's favourite playground was the long, low, sandy 'links' which you have to cross before reaching them. These hills are infested by rabbits, the vain pursuit of which served as a constant amusement to them ; and there for many hours daily Miss Williams and her pupils were almost sure to be found. Lying to the left, close upon the sea, sands the village of Narbrough. This is almost entirely inhabited by a fishing population, aud is dirty and disorderly iv the extreme. Mis Manners had warned Miss Williams to go near it as little as po sible, as ague and fever were too often life in its miserable cabins. But tJi^cy frequently encountered the men and women in their walks, who had all a smile and a nod for the vicar's children ; who, btiaugc ab it may beem, wag by uo

means unpopular atnoiig the poor. It if tine lie ne\er refused tnYm lieip, and had his jost ami laugh with every woman old and young, in the neighbourhood, and was always ready with his sixpence for a " glass " when applied for ; but he was also, they considered, above some ol the common prejudices of his cloth. This with him really arose from indifference, but by them it was regarded aa the truest charity. For instance, w hen famine, that terrible visitor, two years before Miss William's arrival, had stalked mamemgst them dining the bitter winter ; and. the Jong-continued stoims and ruinous disasters to their boats and fishing-nets had reduced them almost to absolute star\atioii, Mr Manners had collected a considerable sum of money for thciF relief ; which, contrary to the advice and t practice of soir.o of his neighbouring clergy, he gavo indiscriminately to church goers arid Sabbath-breakers, to 3lethodists and Romanists alike. 1 All creeds can starve, I suppose,' he said, on some remonstrance being made to him ; and the ' Parson,' as he was called, made many friends dm ing this dismal time. Hia wife had also gieatly exerted herself, and soup had been ready at the Vicarage for all who came for it. So the ' Parson's ' short-comings were forgotten, and he was almost univei sally considered by them a real gentleman, and none of your stunk up hypocrites.' Some ot the hsher people arc wonderfully handsome in these parts, the men usually being tall, brown, and stalwart, while among the women you see many a fair and rosy lass. One especially attracted the admiration of Miss Williams. The gul 6he found, on mentioning her to Mis Manners, was well-known in the neighbourhood as 'Pietty Peggy,' and was consideied singularly beautiful. She was tall and lithe, with a perfection 1 of form rarely seen ; while her clear brown skiu, sparkling dark eyes, and deKcate features, would have made her remarkable in any city in Europe. The children had formed a kind of acquaintance with her from her having one day given little Bonny a ride in her creel ; and now, w henever • Pretty Peggy ' came in sight, the child would run towards her, crying to be -taken up, and many a ride along the sands the good-natured girl gave Bonny on her back. Once or twice, on their i i. Yom these expeditions, Miss VVilliaiuo iiai. d little conversation with Pegtjy, aD d wlBw 18 struck with the modest sweetness of her manners, as well as her remarkable beauty and grace. ' Cousin Hugh drew her once,' Dolly Manners said one day, after they had been talking to this lovely fisher girl ; • but he did not make her pretty enough.' lls Sir Hugh Manners often at the Hall ?' asked Miss Williams, after receiving this piece of information. ' 0 no,' replied Dolly, ' not now ; only to shoot, and when poor uncle waß sojll,' 'I wish he would come,' said Katie, the oldest girl, ' he is such fun.' 'But not so nice as George,' said Milly in her gentle voice. 'Of course not,' answered Dolly, decidedly ; adding, with an air of experience, ' who is ?' George, to the great dissappointment of his half-sisters, had not beeu down to Narbrough during tho first three weeks of Miss Williams' residence there. He was in London on business, they told her ; but one afternoon, when they were out, he unexpectedly arrived. Mi.«s Williams wt» sitting reading on the sand banks, under a green sunshade, with Milly 's head rostinp against her shoulder, -when tho hcuid a simultaneous shout of joy from tho three ether children, who were scrambling about lower down on the bank, which caused her to look suddenly up. 'It's Gcoige,' said Milly, ribing excitedly; and then Miss Williams saw a youiiif man being kissed by his sisters, who were all hanging about him, and presf-ntl}*, lifting Bonny in his arms, he came up the hill towards her. He took off his hat as he carao near. • I must introduce myself, Miss Williams, I suppose,' ho said in a deep but pleasant voicr, ' as these young ladies do aot seem inclined to do so." ' I will, if you choose,' said the unibashed Dolly ; but as they both laughed it this, it made Dolly's offered politeness unnecessary. ' What a glorious day !' said George Manners, putting down Bonny and seating himself on the grass, and taking off his hat with an air of relief. 4 You have just come from ,' town, I suppose ?' H-iid Miss Williams. ' Yes ; I have all the dust of the journey upon me yet — tjje dust and the weariness.' Mr Manners said this in a tired tone, und turned away his face as he spoke half impatiently toward tho sea. Then Mi's Williams looked at him from under tho green sunshade with some curiosity. He was dark, almost olive-tinted in complexion, with jrood features, and a certain nobleness of expression which roado him generally considered a handsome man. Bnt it was a clever rather than a handsome face, with some strongly marked linos about the forehead and mouth, characteristic of energy, and also of quick temper opd a determined will. But tho forehead was fine, and the eyes soft and dark, and he had a tall, powerful, and well -formed frame. ' How do you like Narbroucjh ?' he slid, turning: n^ain towards Miss Williams with a smile. 'He is a very handsome man,' she thought as she looked away. It was now Mr Mannegg&a turn to examine his companion, whica however ho did but slightly. T ' What a swell she is for a governess !' was his first mental reflection. 'I like Narbrough,' said Miss Williams, in answer to his question, * what I have seen of it ; tho country is very pretty-, I think, and— though perhaps I should not say it to you — I like Mrs Manners.' 1 Our mother is~a good woman, isn't feho iljlly?' said George, stroking his little sister's head. 'A very good woman Miss Williams. I'm glad yon like her, for she is one of the most unselfish creatures in tho world.' ' She has been very kind to me,' replied Miss Williams. I She is kind to every one,' said George. ' And the children, how do you like them f' ho added with a laugh. ' George, you are very rude to ask that when we are hero," $aid Dolly, turning scarlet. 4 1 admit it, Miss Dolly. I sit corroeted. But I was not thinking of grown-up young ladies like you and Katie here; I was thinking-of Milly and this young pickle.' 'Gcorgio pickle himself,' &aid Bonny, who waa rolling herself at intervals over her big brother's knee. 'I deny it. Pickle, indeed! I am a middle-agod, sober-minded, pteady-gointr man. Don't believe Bonny, Miss Williams.' ' But Willy will,' replied Bjnny eoßfidently. I 1 see you spoil her, like the rest of us,' said Georje, pulling Bonny up to his face, and kissing her \i-roiously." 4 Don't George, don't — you scratch — you scratch ! You're rou<?h all over your face,' cried tho child, struggling in his arms." 1 Oh, Bonny ! to say that..' sad George, releasing her. Oh, cruel Bonny ! t> hurt my feelings so d^ n ply. Did it not like its big brother's uioustacho tht a ag-uiu&t A

its pretty pink skin ? Well, well, never uiind — feel in Georgie's pockets and sea what he has got fur hi.s little beauty.' With a scroiim of delight Bonny infltiiutly plunged her hands into each of ("Jcorgo's pockets in succession, nnd produced a tobacco-pouch, a pipe, somo fuseo.s, and four peparato packots of ' sweets." ' All for us ?' she a^ked. 'Yes, all,' "aid George, returning his pipe and his other property back to his pockets. 'But don't open them, please, upon my knee. I can't afford to have your sticky little fingers rubbing all over my coat Here Katie, you take them, nnd divide them equally ; but go to a little distance with them like good children, and don't fight.' I You never forget thorn, I see,' said Miss Willi-ims, as they all ran after K:itie and the packets. • I'm fond of children — I don't know how it is, 1 am sure I supposo because I only sco them for a little now and then. Are you ?' ' Yes,' said Miss Williams, laconically. I 1 dare say they worry you often enough, the threo strong ones? Dolly the riiosf, I should say ; but M illy — ' ' Oh ! every one must love her.' " You feel it, too, then? I sometimes wish she wasn't so —what shall I say ? — so angel like ? ' She tells me you often talk to her of these things,' said Miss William 1 !, g.'ntly. A deep flush came all at onoe over Mr Manners'e face. ' I— l talk nonsenao sometimes, I d.ire say, Miss William*,' ho said quickly. ' Yet I t-hould not .siy that,' he con inued. 'I may have talked to my little sister differently than I would to tho&o I thought hid a long lifetime before them.' The governess was silent for a moment, and then, with sudden excitement in her voice and manner, t>ho said — ' I wish I could— l wish I could teach them to bs good aud forgive— but I can't —I can't forgive myself. There arc some wrongs so cruel, so unjust, that' — Then, as she saw Mr Marmora looking at her in evident surprise, she added hastily, ' but how foolish of me to talk like this to you, a stranger. I was thinking of— of some — some relations of mine who have injured me — I mean robbed me — at least I think 80— of some money. 1 These things are very annoying,' aaid Mr Manners, regarding her gravely. 'R it her more than that, I think,' answered Miss William?, with an easy laugh. ' Still, if we look on them aright,' Mr Manners continued. Then, checking himself, with a smile he added, c bu«; it's all very fine preaching to others, when one happens to be in a very bad humour oneself about pretty much the same thjng. I went up to London this time for an especial purpose, and, though I won't say I've been robbed, I have certainly lost money I could ill afford to spare just now, by a man's unbusinesslike conduct. But hero is Hilly. Well, small child, what have you to say ?' ' I want to divide my sweets between us three,' aaid Milly. ' That's a generous little woman ! But I'm afraid I am too old to enjoy your share ; but perhaps Miss Williams would like 6ome.' 1 Well, I should— only one or two, though, Mill, said Miss Williams. IDo you really like sweets ?' asked George Manners. ' I'm not ashamed to confess it," answered Miss Williams, with a smile; ' Lreally do sometimes.' 1 Theu I shall have five children instead of four to remember the next time I come to Narbrough,' said George with a smile also. ' I shall bo ruined, Milly.' • What does being ruined mean ?' aakel the child. ' Having no money in one's pockets, Milly ; being neglected by one's friends, and despUcd by one's enemies — in fact, b&ing n person generally avoided and snubbed.' ' That is your definition of being poor then ?' said Miss Williams ' I fear it is. It is astonishing how one respects the rich man, and how he rebpects himself. I believe my f rinnd with two hundred a year generally does me *s much good as my friend •with two thousand—yet, how differently I regard him ! Ah, Milly, if I were only a rioh man, what a nice fellow I would be. 1 ' What would y,ou do first ?' inquired the little sister. • I would buy Milly the loveliest dress that ever was seen. What would you wish it to be like ?' 'Oh !' said the child, putting her arm round her brother's shoulder, aud her face close to his, 'Oh! if I might choose—' • As my being rich is so far off, Milly, I have not the least objection.' ' Well, then, I should like a white dress — a white dress, thin, with golden stars all over, like a fairy ; and I .should like a golden wand and white satin shoes.' 'Would it cost much, Mis.s Williams?' said George, with pretended gravity. ' No ; but when could you wear it ? It would only do for a pantomime. • Why not have a pantomime at Christmas, thenl"' said Georgo. 'And ray Milly would be the beautiful fairy, who comes in nt th'o end to set every one right r' 'Oh do, George— Oh ! Miss Williams, will you ?' ' We'll see about it. What do you say, Miss Williams ?' ' I really don't know what to say, I am sure.' ' They always have a child's party on Christmas Eve, and we tried charades ohco ; but that was when poor Walter was alive. Suppose wo really have some sort of pantomime this year, to show off Milly' a dress — golden stars and all ?' ' Wo should ask Mrs Manners, should we not ?' suggested Miss Williams. George laughed. • To bo 6ure,' he said, ' I forgot all about that. But' — and ho looked at his watch — ' it is late, a quarter to six, and I promised my mother to bo in at halfpast five for ray chop ; so if you ladies will do me the honour of walking home with me, we had better bo moving.' All the way to the Vicarage Milly and her sisters discussed the pantomime, much to the amusement of Miss Williams and George. ' We wont get out of it now, I expect,' ho said at last. ' Indeed, George, you wont,' said Dolly. ' It will bo lovely— such fun, dressing up. Couldn't we all bo fairies, Miss Williams ?'

(To he continued.)

I>r Mexico a group of lads from 7 to 12 will meet, and each boy will decorously lift his hat and salutations of extreme courtesy will be exchanged, and then comes the boyish chatter, the, fun and the laughter, the same as anywhere. Boys here treat their elders with respect. An old man or woman is not the butt of the youth of Mexico ; rather for. the old people is reserved the shadiest seats under the trees in the parks and the best seats in the family sala. A Mexican girl or boy on entering a room walks round among the company, shaking hands with all, and on leaving the room does the same. "Uibanity" is taught in the public schools as arithmetic is at home. There is no one jostled on the street ; the best seat in tho hor-e-car is promptly given up to the Lidic-», who never fail gracefully to acknowledge the favour. I have nevur soon a Mexican gentleman fail to give his seat to a woman, whether ahe was richly or poorly dressed. — " Boston Horul'l. 1 '