CHAPTER XI. A DREADFUL DISCOVERY.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2128, 27 February 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XI. A DREADFUL DISCOVERY.

Sir Hogu came down the next day to the Vicarage, and Adelaide received him with the most chilling reserve. ' What have I done to offend you f he asked in a few minutes, at once noticing her manner. 'I think you should know besr, answered Adelaide ; * your— your conduct may be what yon consider honourable, Hugh, but no one else does.' I ♦ What do you mean ?' asked Sir Hugh, his pale face for once growing scarlet as he spoke. * You— you may think it gentlemanly, 1 went on Adelaide, with increasing agitation, 'to walk nbont at nights with your uncle's governess — when I'm in the house, too!' Her cousin burst into a loud laugh. •So that'B all,' he said ; ' well, my dear Adelaide, don't be jealous. I met Miss Williams and old Alsic a hundred yards from the gate here, aud the old woman , never left us till we reached it, and your ' handsome governess was just about as pleasant to me as you .are now.' ' Is this true, Hugh ?' 'Ask the girl herself- -ask the old fisherwoman. They had gone, it seems, on some charitable errand of your stepmother's to the village, and I met them | by accident, close to the house, on their way back.' 1 If— if I could treat yon.' 4 What mouatains you women make of mole-hills,' continued Sir Hugh, con temptuoualy. ' But it's true what I tell you, and also that Mus Williams, or whatever you oall her, would scarcely speak to me when I did see them.' • I can scarcely believe that.' ' True though, on my honour. She is doing the coy I suppose to me, by the way of making love to George.' 'Impudent creature!' •She is wise, my dear, she is wise. George is the most likely victim.' ' I cannot bear to hear you talk thus.' «Wby?' • I have told you before ; but if I have wronged you about last night, forgive me. I saw you part with her from my bedroom window.' And as she spoke she came np towards him, and held out her band. ' It'a all right,' said Sir Hugh, shaking it, for ho rather liked Adelaide. 'And now that this folly is settled, to-morrow ia New Year's Eve, isn't it ? Well, I want you, George, and the governess to come up to decorate the bran-new Christmas tree which came down from town this morning, with no end of toys for the children on New Year's Day.' ' Need we bring Miss Williams ?' said Adelaide with a clouded brow. 4 George would never forgive vi if we •didn't. Come, Adelaide, don't be silly and jealous child, but look pleasant. When will George be back ? I mean by what train r' ' He said he would be home for dinner.' • Well, than, come about eight o'clock. There are some jolly things for you all, I •can tell you— rings, and I don't know what' ' It is very kind of you. Sir Hugh shrugged his shoulders.

• One gets infected in the country with the spirit of kinsmanship,' he said. ' I want my beloved cousins, big nnd little, to enjoy them§elves for onco at my oxpense.' •We hare over been friends, 1 snid Adelaide — ' even more than the rest, haven't wo, Hugh.' ' Except when we quarrel, answered Sir Hugh, lightly. ' And now, good-bye for the present, Adelaide. I am going over thin morning to Lilbourue to invite the little Lilbournes to come.' ( Good bye,' said Adelaide, and she bit her lips, and sighed as she spoke, • Does he love me ?' sho thought, ' "V^ill he ever love me ? Oh, how happy we could bo ?' She stood long there in the chill morning at the window, from which she watched him qo — stood thinking 1 of her life with indignation, almost with despair. •I am weary of it,' aho thought, 'utterly weary. No ono loves me here— l am nothing to them all. Oh !if Hugh would only say ho cared for mo— only marry me. Yet what is there to preven thim ? Surely it oaunot be that woman : that woman he hiw scarcely seen. Yet how do I know this ?' she reflected, with a bitter pang. 1 It may be a plau between them that sho is here at all; it may be that which makes him stay. He says he has seen her before. Oh, my God ! how do I know where — how do I know how !' ' We are going for a walk, Adelaide, said Hilly, opening the door of the room and putting iv her lovely face ; will you come ?' ' No, child, no ; shut the door. Yet stay, Milly— is your governess going with you?' 1 No ; she has gone to the village to see old Alsie'a sick granddaughter, and take her some books ?' 1 Aro you sure ?' ' I saw her go, Adelaide,' said Milly, with wondering eyes.' 1 Very well— that will do. Thank you, Milly, for asking me to go ; but my head aches.' 'Oh ! I'm so sorry,' said the child. 'Is there anything I can get to do it good?' ' No, Milly ;go for your walk. She is the best of them all,' she thought, as her little sister left the room — 'more like a real Manners.' ' la the meanwhile Miss Williams had found her way to old Alsie'a cottage, and the face of the poor sick girl who lay there brightened with indescribable joy when she saw her come in. 'I've been praying that she might come, she said, 'and now that is answered, maybe if I pray to meet my Jim in heaven God will hear that too.' ' We are told that everything is heard, Katie, you know,' said Miss Williams. 'Ah ! bat Ire prayed of tcntimc3, and it wasn't.' ' Perhaps you did not pi l ! a-ight ' 1 Maybe I didn't.' answered tbe girl, simply, ' I seem to see things clearer — when I urn going to die.' She was, indeed, going 1 to die. In the daylight her ghastly' pallor, her sunken cheeks, and the extraordinary brightness of her eyes were more visible than by the dim candle-light by which Miss Williams had seen her the night before. 1 You are not worse this morning ?' asked Miss Williams kindly. 'No ; better — oh ! so much better ; happier like than I ha'been for mouths.' ' And your grandmother is oat ?' ' With the creel. She mas going the Lilbourne road this morning, poor body ; so 'twill be late beforo she is back.' ' I am glad I have come to see you, then,' said Miss Williams ; 'and now I am going to read you a story.' For nearly two hours Miss Williams sat patiently reading by her sido, the poor girl listening with the greatest interest ; and when she rose to go Katie put out her thin hand — ' You'll mind bring Mr George,' she said. • Yes ;I am sure he will come. He is coming home to-morrow,' replied Miss William?. ' God bless ye both !' said Katie ; and with these words of the dying girl ring, ing in her ears Miss Williams walked slowly home. She stopped however a moment on her way — stopped to post a letter to Mr George Mannerfl If OM'jastle. All the world might hare seen its contents, yet it made George at first very uneasy when he received it. It contained, nevertheless, but a very simple requett ; which was, to purchaso her some wine for Katie, and bring it out with him when he came on the following day to Narbrough ; and she enclosed a five -pound note for payment. ' I would rather she wrote to ask me to give her some,' groaned poor George, as he crushed tho note in his hand ; 1 rather, a thousand times she hadn't a farthing, than all this wealth and this mystery — yet five pounds ion't much,' he thought the next minute. 'Poor gener» ous little girl, fancy her thinking about wine, instead of buying some paltry trinket, as Adelaide would have done.' He came to Narbrough the next day in an earlier train, than they expected him, and when he arrived at the Vicarage he found only Adelaide — who was looking very moody and unhappy — at home to receive him, and she certainly did not do so with much cordiality. She gave him Sir Hugh's message about going up to the Hall in the evening, and when he asked where tbe others were, she said petulantly — 1 How can I tell you where they are ? I know nothing about them. They are always down at the village — beautiful place that is? They 6ay 6oroe of the people are starving there, but I never believe such stories.' • Why don't you go and see if it is true ?' answered Goorge. 'I ?' Not I, indeed ! I have no tasto for horrible sights. 1 ' But you might give them some little help, perhaps.' ' My dear George I never was a Dorcas, and I never shall be.' ' You might be happier perhaps if you were,' said George. 1 Who says I am not happy ?' asked Adelaide, turning scarlet. •You don't look so.' • How can I be with living here,' retorted Adelaide; 'I who have been brought up so differently ?' Living under your father's roof, with an excellent woman like Mrs Manners.' ' The cook is an excellent woman, I've no doubt, George, yet I cannot say I oultivate her society.' George sighed. 1 Whatever Mrs Manners's birth was, ho said presently, 'every one respects her.' ' Except me.' I Adelaide you are too absurd.' ' There, we are beginning to quarrel again, George. Could you be five minutes in the house without finding fault with me do you think?' I 1 hope so, 1 he answered with a smile • 'but I'll put myself out of tho way of temptation. lam going to look for the others.' And taking up his hat, ho left the house some ten minutes after he had entered it. 'My only brother !' said Adelaide, bitterly, after he was gone. George took the road to the village, and walked briskly forward. It was a fine clear frosty day, and his spirits rose after the brief annoyance which Adelaide's manner had caused hftn passed away. ' She is dissatisfied and unhappy,' he thought ; ' poor girl ! I •hould pity hei instead of being angry. ' He reached the village without seeing anything of his sisters or their governess : and then leaving the road he crossed tb<

links and went upon the sands. Suddenly his dark faco grow a most uncomfortable scarlet as he did so, for walking close to thes ea, whero the Hand was the firmest, were Miss Williams and Sir Hugh Manners. For a moment he thought they woro alone, but the next Dolly ran up to Sir Hugh, and apparently asked for a ride on his horse, which ho was leading with his arm through tho bridle, for Sir Hugh lifted her upon the saddle. Still George felt anything but pleased, for there was* something familiar in the whole group, and he bit his lips, and stroked his moustache, with some very disagreeable feelings disturbing his heart. Presently there wns a shout, and the other three children, who had been sitting 1 under a bank now eavr him and. ran towards him, aud a general kissing ensued. But George, jealous and unhappy, kept watching the three figures in front. ' Have you been long on the sands ?' ho asked the children. lOh ! ever so long,' said Katie. ' Hugh has been riding and walking about with us till we are all nearly tired.' • Wo had better go home then,' paid George angrily. ' Wait till tho others turn and see us,' said Katie ; 'or shall we ran on and tell them you're come ?" ' Better leave them alone — they can take care of themselves. Come, Bonny, I'll carry you right up the bank,' ( But Cieorgie. what is the matter ?' asked Katie. ' They really never have seen us.' I 1 dare say not— now Bonny, jump up.' But just as she did so, Miss Williams turned to look after them, and saw in a moment who had arrived. 'There is your comin,' she said, and she blushed deeply as she spoke. 1 1 see, ' said Sir Hugh, who was looking nt hor with his cold steady graze. ' You are right to blush, Miss Williams, it is really very becoming. 1 ' How can you bo so truly absurd ?' ' Sir Hugh laughed : but his vanity also was wounded. He had tried to please Miss Williams, and he scarcely cared to confess that he knew he failed. ' Shall we go to meet him ?' he said. But George carrying Bonny on his shoulders, was already mounting the bank. 'As you please, 1 answered Miss Williams, who felt justly offonded nt George's behaviour. ' Let us take another turn then,' said Sir Hugh, who perfectly understood why George had left, and was rather amused at his conduct. So Miss Williams and Sir Hugh went ngain along ths sands; Miss Williams feeling more angry than she cared to acknowledge, and vexed with herself for her violent emotion, Sir Hugh was in one of his sarcastic moods, and finding he only got very brief answers and little onconragement from the handsome governess, he began teasing Dolly, who, however, was in rather too precarious a sisuation really to quarrel with him, as he was still holding her on the saddle, so getting tired of the trouble, ho suddenly pretended to have forgotten an engagement. ' You see what an enchantress you arc, Miss Williams,' he said, after his imaginary explanation. 1 What do you moan ?' she answered : for she was annoyed at his manner, aud yet more annoyed at his cousin. ' Have you not heard ? — I mean lam in simple despair at having to leave you,' replied Sir Hugh, with a sneer. 'Good morning,' 6aid Miss Williams, haughtily, stopping short. ' Come, Dolly,' and Sir Hugh having lifted his cousin off his horse, muttered between his teeth, as he remounted it. ' The proud little fool — I'll humble her yet!' When Miss Williams and Dolly arrived at the Vicarage they heard George's voice in the garden, and w hen he saw them advancing he came forward to open the gate to admit them. • Well, you've lost your cavalier,' he said, roughly enough. Miss Williams made him no answer, and George, perhaps a little ashamed of his rudeness, walked on by her side. • By-tho-bye,' he said presently, ' I received your letter this morning, and I may as well return your money.' 1 What, did you not get it ?' asked Williams. ' I got six bottles, which will be more than you want, I should think. I brought it to the .station with me, and will send James for it now. But six bottles of port wine, Miss Williams, don't generally cost five pouuds.' ' Oh, I did not know how much you would get, and I thought wine was ex* pensive,' she answered, careletVy. George bit his lips as she spoke. ' Here is your change,' he said, and without counting it she put it in her purse. ' You have not cheated yourself I hope,' she said, with a smile. ' You'll find the bill and the change all correct,' answered George stiffly. ' I hope it will do some good — poor little girl !' said the governess.