CHAPTER XXII. "VEXATION OF SPIRIT."

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2155, 1 May 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XXII. "VEXATION OF SPIRIT."

About three days after this an advertisement in one of the local papers caught Miss William's eye :—: — ' Wauted, in a genteel family residing in Oldcastle, a governess, for two young children, aged, four and five years. Apply (stating age, previous experience, present engagement, aud what salary would be expected) to 3ox No. 7, Post Office, Oldcastle.' Miss Williamd-; read this, re-read it, and as she did so a wild hope rushed into her heart. If she cpuld get this situation — if she could go to Oldcastle, she might again ,see George ; if she saw him they might again become frjonda, and ,this tune she would tell him all. She acted at once on this idea, and without consulting auyone, ,adresse'd a letter the same night to Box No. 7, Post Office, Oldcastle, complying with the demands of the advertisement ; and towards the end of the week an answer came to her application. ' Mrs Mounsey,' she read— after nervously opening the highly-scented and xnagnificiently crested letter and noteBhcet, which the post had brought her — ' Mrs Mounsoy has received Misv Wil{inios's letter, dated March 9th, and she will be glad if Mips Williams will make it convenient to oaU next Thursday afternoon, at three o'clock, -at No. 15, Windsor Streps Mrs Mqnnbey is acquainted with one member o{ the family with whom Miss Williams is at present residing, but that gentleman is at present unfortunately, abroad, Nevertheless, Mrs Mounsey has ohpsen Miss Williaraa's from among many other applications, on .account ot her knowledge of ,tho respectability of , the Rev. A. Manners's family ; and eh,ould tho personal interview (which iii essential) prove satisfactory, . Mrs Mounsey will at once, correspond with Mrs Manners as to Miss Williams' a capabilities. 15, Windsor Street, Oldoastle.' 1 Will that do, do you think ?' said Miss Williams, putting this letter into Mrs Manners's hand during the evening of ,the. day which she .received it. 1 Why, they muat know George,' exclaimed Mrs Manners, after having read ,it, find a flush came ovec her faoe ai she spoke. ■ , * .. 1 Yes, I suppose so— in business perhaps ' ft little/ .replied ,Miss Williams,, also blushing crimson. ' And you would. like to go there ? .said Mrs Manners, looking at her. ' Then you want to see George P , . 'Yes, I'll notj,d«ny it. I do wapt to fl.ee George again. I .want him to know the, truth.' , . t . , , 1 The truth is best ; , but about going to Oldoastle-t-I don't knoWjL'*m sure.' ' You think I ought not to go?' : 'I won/t wjithat— ft dppendi. ., But perhaps you're right ; but I wouldn't tell him, I think,, that you are going.' ' No ; perhapß I may never see him,' ' Oh, almost sure you'll be meeting him in the streets someway, if your are really going to leave L uB,' ' I could not stay after what lie said.' ' Well, maybe it will all come right in the end, and we'll say nothing to the Vicar about these people knowing' George. The best of men, you. see, aro fraotious at tiroes, and it's just as well to keep them quiet,' 'Very w«U.' , ' And that reminds me, the Vicar told me he h(id. met Sir Hugh yesterday, and he ■ said he was doming down to-night ; though I'm sure I wish he'd just stay away.' ' You don't like $ir Hugh P sail Miss Williams, with a smile. ' No,' unswercd-Mra Manner.*, sinking her head, ' I don't trust him,' ' He is strange, but I do' not th'nk he is as heartless as he ohoosea to appear.

But about Mrs Mounseys letter. I suppose I may go to Oldcastlo on Thursday ?' 'Of course ; why do you ask ? And one thing ; if you go there, you won't bo far off us, not like London, or any of thoso foreign parts.' ' No ; I can come to see you sometimes.' 'And what about Sir Hugh? Will you tell him if you go ? Far better not, and then ho can't come to see you, And George wouid be snro to hear if ho did.' t ' It would be wiser, but he will be surd to ask.' 'Just put him off, then. What call has he to know all abont you ? If you mind what Georgo thinks but thero, I declare, there he is, so we most say nothing more.' Sir Hugh had passed the dining-room window while Mrs Manners was speak* ing, and the next minute had opened the door and come in. 'Well, ladies,' he said, 'and how do you find yourselves this cold evening! Mrs Manners, I am going to ask you to give mo a cup of tea;' and as Mrs Manners bustled out of the room to see after complying with this request, ho added — ' I've had such a row with Adelaide ; a tremendous row. I told her a bit of my mind, and she returned tho compliment.' « What did she say ?' ' What an enraged jealous woman generally says,' replied Sir Hugh, cooly. 'She Siiid I was a villain, and a good many things besides.' • And what abont George ?' 'She' congratulated herself on having saved her only brother from your snarea ; and — would you believe it ? — I was fool enough to get into a rage with her, and informed hor that the lady she vilified was every w bit as good as George himself — and didn't she storm.' 'It was very disagreeable.' •It is rather fun, I think. Yet do you know that girl has irritated me. She' used suoh vile language, too ; and shall I tell yon what I have 'been thinking ? 'Yes. 1 ! What about the bootch marriage, or Irish marriage rather— suppose it could be proved to be binding P I mean that there is a first Mrs Clayton, you understand,' added Sir Hugh, with a smile. 1 Oh Sir Hugh, let it rest, let it rest.' llt would be such a sell to Adelaide. By Jove ! I feel as if I would like to lower my lady's crest. Suppose it could be proved : you might marry, you know.' 'And sacrifice poor Georgo? No; I care' for him too much for that.' 'He wouldn't look on it as n sacrifice, I can tell you. Do you know ho's mndly in love with yon — that cousin of mine ?' • Ho hasn't proved it at any rate,' said Miss Williams, with a strange joy creeping into her heart. ' That's because he thought yon were playing him false ; but justj ust waib till he knows the truth. I told you I would have told him ; don't yon remember? He would think it no disgrace, and who would be the wiser P' ' I do not know what to say ; I'm afraid of inquiry. Suppose — oh, Sir Hngh ! suppose it were- not n marriage — and I wero once more in that man's power,' • That would be awkward, certainly. Well, shall we wait till George come.i home, and then tell him the whole truth, and nothing but the truth ?' ' Yes, that would bo best.' ' I've written to him. I wrote when I came in warm from my encounter with Miss Adelaide. I think ho'll believe mo. I used prerty strong language.' ' I am very grateful to you,' said Miss Williams ; and something in her soft nature prompted her to rise and hold out her hand to Sir Hugh, to express her feelings. •There, there,' ho ciied, shaking it, ' don't pay anything more. Don't tempt me to mako lovo to you ; which, by Jove, if you look as soft and as pretty aa you do now, I'll be beginning at occe.' ' How can you talk nonsense like that?' ' Sense, ray flear, sense. I want to act fairly to Georgo and you in this matter ; and besides I'm really sorry— heartily sorry, for a pretty little creature like you, being tossed about the world by a scoundrel's act, as I call Clayton*ls— when you did'iit even love him too — he hai not a shadow of an excuse.' ' Wot even if I had loved him ?' 'I don't know; lovo excuses a great' deal, that's my morality.' ' Never a cruel action liko that.' ' What about keeping my bravo' cousin in the dark foa these month?, eh?. If you had told your littlo secret to Georgo a wh.le ago, it strikes mo you would'have loft him a happier man. You'll excuse me showing you by a littlo h»ppy jllustrution how different is theory to practice. 1 ' I was very wrong.' ' Very. Yet I would have forgiven you if it had been me. You see you made .a mistake ; you should havo fallen in love with mo, and not with, George.' ' With neither, you mean.' ll ' 1 ' That's absurd*; you're too handsome a girl to go moping your life away. Ah,' Mrs Manners,' he continued, addressing their hostess, who just then entered the room, 'here is a young lady who is giving me some horribly bard lessons in morality to learn ; telling me one < onght .to do right, whatever is the temptation to do wrong; .but I tell her preaching is easier than practice.' ' I don't understand suoh things,' said Mrs Manners, stiffly. . ' ' Nor I, it's this lady who is the wouldbe little saint. Ah, me ! — ah, me ! — it's years since I set out on the downward road !' ' ' ' I don't like to hear you say ib, x answered Mrs Manners, arranging- the fteatray which the maid had brought In. 'But it's truth,' said Sir Hugh; 'and I've had not hand stretched out to swe me all those years. .No good woman has lovod me, and make a halting-place for me— until now/ He only whispered the last two words ; but Miss Williams heard them, and felt a sort of interest in him t as he spake. 'It's too late,' she said, in a low tono abo. t He made no answer, but sighed deeply, and then rose restlesfJy, and' took, up a book .that was lying open on a distant table. ' It this what you are reading ? ho said , turning to Miss Williams. t ] , It was Thackerary's ' English Humourists,' and was open at the pathetic sketch of Goldsmith. '.Was there ever such a man, as that xeally, I wonder ?' went on Sir Hugh, rocrossing the" rpom with the boole in .his. hand as he spoke—' over such an innocent, boyish, tender heart ? And to last all through'} thoso dreary years too— till" ho was past forty, wasn't it ! And to go on believing in human nature all that time, and clever too. By Jove, to me it's a marvel !' 'He was so trustful, and he trust xl others, I suppose,' said Miss Williame, ■■ 'Is that it, d'ye .think ? la that the secret ? Why he must have been a child all his life !— a reckless joyous creature to the end. My God ! what a thing it is to be able to believe !' - , „ ' Do you mean God ?' ' Ay— and His creatures. What mocking devil presided over my birth, I wonder, and took away thia' wondrous power ?' ' But yon'do not really mean that ' you can trust in no one Sir Hugh ?' 'In whom can yon trust ? Your lover ? —Bah ! look into the man's, heart firsj;, if yon can . Your \ friend's f aitl^ ?-r-Hear the kindly little blacksliding whisper on your follies which he will probably indulge in.

No ; the wife of your boaom, the husband of your love, the child in your arras, all are tainted 1 ' Put not your trust in l*inco«y~4>r--an-<-any ohild of man.' No truer words than these ever were written, "•' ' Put it in God; Sir Hugh,' said Mrs Mannert; with, much solemnity. 'Trust Him, and you'll learn to trust His creature?. We none of us are perfect ; but it's not the bad iv us you need be seeking for. .' And do you do this ?' answered Sir Hugh, looking at her curiously, for he had sever heard Mrs Manners express any decided opinion before 'I hope so,' she replied humbly; 'though I should not boast, for when — when He took away my darling, I thought it very hard> But maybe Mo knew I loved her too well. I was wrapped up in the little one, Sir Hugh, and— and I fear my heart rebelled,' ' You have others to fill the place,' said Sir Hugh, kindly. * Ay, but hers is empty — and— and perhaps she's but the first to qo — there's Milly •' < She looki stronger than she did,' said Sir Hugh, ' She is a dear little girl — my pot among them all.' ' She is too good for us, I fear,' answered Mrs Manners with a sigh. ' But maybe ho will spare her,' she added with humble faith; 'she's the ohild of many prayers.' ♦ Well, good people, how are you getting on?' said the Vioar, opening the doo^ ' Well, Hugh, so you've found your^way to the ladies — as usual ?' '■' The pleasantest company, iir, always,' said Sir Hugh, rising and offering his hand to bis uncle. 'Hum !— it depends on taste.' 'To my taste at any rate,' answered Sir Hugh. ' Yes, that is commonly reported,' said the Vicar, dryly. ' But what very solemn conversation, 1 he added, ' did I interrupt ' as I came in ?' 'On things in general,' replied Sir Hugh, carelessly ; 'on want of faith in particular.'* ' Ma) 7 1 ask on what particular branch of faith^ Hugh, you should be great on this point, if all tales are true.' •On having it strongly developed, sir, or the want of it V •• ' Well, popular opinion would say the latter, I should think. 1 'Popular opinion ia generally false, uncle, as you know well.' ' I haven't found it so. Unless a man is very rich, lie usually gets a pretty true character.' 'By Jove, I've known persons get a pretty good character who deserve a deuced bad one.' ' Hum ! have you been among the Methodists lately, as that remark savours strangely of that crew ; and they are pretty strong among the fishiug population in the village ?' 'They are earnest, atony rate,' answered Sir Hugh, reddeuing. 'Yes, in the work,' said < the Vicar, with an absurd accent on the words. ' They do the work which., the proper parson's don't, perhaps,' retorted Sir Hugh. ' Has pretty Peggy Richardson been making a conveit of you?', asked the Vicar, pleasantly. ' She's a little Methodist, 1 suppose, and the people say you keep her company a good deal.' ■ 'People had better mind their own business why Bay so,' replied Sir Hugh, with a darkening face. ' Have you been fishing to-tlay, MiManners ?' said Miss Williams, eager to put an cud to this disagreeable conversation. 'No, Miss Williams,' answered the Vicar. 'I've been over to Sir Thomas Lilbourne's. I've been to see my daughter.' 'Did Adelaide tell you of our little tiff then ?' asked Sir Hugh. ' She told me you had been very angry about some letter she had opened by mistake, from Miss Williams here.' ' Yes, by mistake !' said Sir Hugh, emphatically. ' And did she tell you also that she wilfully deceived George as to its contents, and tried to make out that a slight acquaintance which , I had the pleasure of having with— Miss Williams's previous life, was a very improper connexion indeed V ' What are you driving at, may I ask ?' said the Vicar. „ ' This— that a lady by birth and education has been called hard names by your daughter, because iv her early life she had the misioxtunfi.JiQ.^see. my unlucky face once, and I didn't even remember she had seen It— for which I owe you a grudge,' added Sir Hugh, with a smile and a nod at Miss Williams. ' Sir Hugh, had we not better chauge this conversation ?' said Miss Williams, nervously. ' Why ? By Joffe, you've nothing to be ashamed of.' , ' Well, as lam leaviug Narbrough, its no matter now.' ■ 'Miss Williams,' said the Vicar, with some feeling in hia manner, 'no one, I am sure can regret more than Ito the unfortunate misunderstanding which has arisen between you and, my daughter ; but, 'of course, after what has passed 'What lias passed?' said Sir Hugh, angrily.! 'I met this young lady for her to explain certaiu qircu instances conneQted with her own life, and of no earthly, consequence. to any one else ; and Miss Adelaide Manners must needs open 'my letters {first, and ,then -follow me on my walks afterwards. It strikes me an apology is due to Miss Williams for all this, and if Adelaide ever, means to speak to m^pgain, she shall make poo.' 1 WhatTdo you say, to this, Miss William's T asked the Vicar. , : 'It is, quite true what Sic Hugh says,' she answered ; ' but it is. no matter ; I shall leave Narbrough, and then Miss Adelaide will .be satisfied-, ' I think my daughter has misunderstood your conduct, and I oanntot— and I am sure Mrs Manners cannot— forget all your attentions to her doling her illness. ' ' No, 'indeed,' said Mrs Manners, eagerly ; ' she has a home h»re open .to her always when she likes to come back ; thatVs what I toll her — and hasn't she now, Arthur?' . ' I shall always be glad to see Miss (Williams.' - replied the • Vicar, with a certain reserve ia his tone. ; and I think it is a great pity — — ' and he paused -and {looked at Sir Hugh. 'What is a pity, sir?' asked his nephew. 'That' you -should idle away your .time about hqre, Hugh.' answered the Vicar; 'and if you .take my advice I think you would be . better employed in town, associating with your equals.' , • Walter did that, uncle,' said Sir Hugh, with a sort of laugh. ' Are you thinking of the baronetcy? We are a short-lived race, we Manners', and it , sometimes strikes me mine will not be long.' i •I am sorry about thi? affair with your 'cousin Adelaide,' said the Vicar, now anxious to be the peacemaker, if possible, with his intended son-in-law, though he iwa* obliged to confess that the prospeots looked very dark. i 'My ,'cousin Adelaide might employ ■herself better than by makiug mischief,' answered Sir Hugh, 'and you can tell her so,- with my compliments.' , 4lt was her anxiety about her brother,' »aid the Vicar. . :5 Or quite a different feeling,' replied Sir Hugh, rising. 'But good night, ladic? ; and let m* assure you, he added, addressing Miss Williams, 'of my deep regret that any conduot of mine should

have involved you in such unpleasant, such nnjust suspicions.' ' Thank you, Sir Hugh,' said Miss Williams, and she gave him her hand. She felt graseful to him, And thought even George Manners had judged his cousin harshly ; and she was glad afterwards that she had parted with him feeling as she did. (To be continued).