CHAPTER XXVIII. GEORGE'S RETURN.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2170, 5 June 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XXVIII. GEORGE'S RETURN.

TiiEiiE was a letter lying on the break- j fast-table for Amy Williams the next morning, when she came down rather later than usual— a letter which Miss Clayton had been glancing at with no small curiosity for several minutes before, for it was from Naibrough, and directed in a gentleman's handwriting ; and when Miss Williams entered, and lifted it up, a deep blush overspread her face. Mr and Mrs Mounsey were not yet down, and Miss Clayton, who was making the tea, said at onee — 'Do not let me prevent you opening your letter, Miss Williams. I see it is from your friends at Narbrough.' 'Yes, 1 answered Miss Williams, incautionsly, from Sir ' and she paused. • What, from Sir Hugh Manners ?' exclaimed Mias Claytan, with some surprise in her voice, and a strange joy in her heart. ' But pardon me— how rude I am— as if I had any business to ask who your letters are f i om.' 'I became intimate with Sir Hugh through some circumstances connected with my early life,' explained Miss Williams, anxious to account for the fact of her correspondence w ith the baronet. ' I met Sir Hugh before I went to Narbrough.' 1 Indeed, before you met his cousin ?' •Yes.' ' And you say he is very handsome ?' ' He is considered so, at least.' : Is he like Mr George Manners ?' 'Oh no — his feature's are more perfect.' 'Well, do not let me interrupt you— you can tell me, yon know, if .there is any news,' said Miss Lanra, with a pleased smile, beginning to pour out the tea ; she felt glad, somehow, about k this letter from Sir Hugh. • There was, however, no special news in the letter. He had got back to the Hall, and he had seen Adelaide, who had tried to make up to him, he wrote ; and George hail never answered his letter, and he had seen nothing more of Clayton. This wasaboutall — 'except,' he added, ' that he had asked Donovan as to Claytons whereabouts, and that he had told him he had gone down to the neighbourhood of Liverpool to visit his own people.' This was the extent of Sir Hugh's information, and told in his usual careless, unconnected fashion ; but as Amy Williams read the paragraph relating to Captain Clayton, a sudden, and, to her, very terrible suspicion rushed for the first time into her mind. 'Miss Clayton,' she said the next minute, ' have you any relations in Liverpool ?' ' Not now,' answered that young lady, who had been looking with secret joy at the changing and agitated face before her. ' But why do you ask ? Does Ssir Hugh Manners know any of us Claytons ?' •I— l think not,' replied Amy Williams, with great hesitation, for her nature was truthful ; ' but he mentions Liverpool.' •It is a fine town, I knew it well once — but that is long ago,' added Miss Clayton, with a sigh ; and Amy dared not ask her any further questions ; yet a kind of painful dread remained in her mind, that her unhappy husband might be some connexion of this family's. Mr Peel called during the morning, bringing a most splendid basket of flowers and strawberries ' for the ladies,' and Laura brought up a plateful of the lastnamed luxuries into the schoolroom for Miss Williams and the children, jas soon as he was gone. You see what our friend, Mr Peel, has brought us this morning,' she said to Amy, with a smile, as she presented them. 'I wish I had such a delightfully rich* lover,' answered the governess, laughing. ' You make us all envy you, Miss Clayton.' 'He is ft kind, good man, 1 replied Laura, almost gravely, ' that's what I value more than his riches ; yet, God forgive me for saying so,' she added the next moment ; • no, its the money, Miss Williams, that's the truth, whatever fine language we clothe it in ; what n difference it makes — the difference of one's whole life.' ' Yes, indeed— of happiness or misery, too often.' ' But it should not be so ; for instance, for I suppose you mean about marriage, as that generally makes most women's happiness or misery, who have any fine feelings at all ; yet how often do men pause and hesitate till it's too late, because, forsooth, they have not the means to begin the world with as their fathers end it? If two people love each other, why do they not start together in a cottage ? That surely would be happier than waiting and waiting, or worse, wedding without tenderness and love.' ' Yes, how many women do that ? 'Most do. I think— but why? I do not believe it is the women who are all to blame. Girls marry rich men after some disappointment of which the world perhaps little dreamt. They marry for fine houses and carriages, and they have no motivo after all tiiat to cultivate the noblest and tenderest feelings of our nature. They become debased, and they debase their children after them. 'It is a good match,' we say ; 'he is a rich man, she will have everything she wants ;' but a woman's heart wants more than these thiugs, or she becomes degaaded — the idle creature of fashion, of whom we see so many around us. My I reading of the cause of the frivolous

character of most of our women is — they marry without love.' 4 Yes,' and Miss Williams hesitated, for she was thinking of Mr Peel. ' Yes we all do it,' said Miss Clayton, thoughtfully. ' Yes, but some of us have good cause. The heart only knows its own bitterness, Miss Williams, and I pity from mine girls born in the position of ladies who are dependent. ' It is a most painful position.' 1 There is none like it. The lower classes hare all employments laid out for them, which are open to their choice — the servant, the shop-girl — these are independent. They can work without losing cjstc,"and marry who they love. But the poor lady — we cannot wonder, perhaps, that they should prefer the humiliation of taking any husband who can offer them a home, to the constant humiliations of seeking ne«v homes among strangers, or worse— eating the grudged bread bestowed by rich relations and friends.' • Yet do not do it, Miss Clayton,' said Miss Williams, emphatically. 'God only knows the horror — the shameful horror ' and then she paused, her thoughts natturly recuring to her own unhappy experience. 1 You speak strongly on this point, Miss Williams,' said Laura, rather in a surprised tone. 1 Yes, for— for — I have seen it— l have known it ; better anything, any unkindness and neglect you can experience in the world, than the feeling that you cannot give the love which you know it is your duty to give.' 'But suppose you thoroughly respect your husband ? ' In that case, I believe it might come ; but it is a great risk, and one I would not like to see any one I cared for run.' • Perhaps not,' answered Miss Clayton ; and then she sighed and changed tho conversation. ' How pretty that girl upstairs is,' she said, later in the day to her sister. • I wonder what her story is ? I fear a sad i one,' 'Oh, I daresay not, replied Mrs Mounsey, sharply. How romantic yon are, Laura. These people in general, T believe, rather rise than lose position by going out into the world. She will be some small tradesman's daughter, probably. I've no patience with the false cry about the way govu nesses are treated. I think they are treated very well." Yes, I daresay ; but still the position is painful.' •'fl[ow do you meanu?— living with every ease and comfort around them. Just look at Miss Williams : what has she to complain of ?' 'My dear Louisa, she is a pretty young woman, and probably docs not exactly like spending her life in a back sitting room, with two children for her companions.' c You astonish me, Laura— really astonish me — with such opinions. What do you want, pray ? That she should dine with us ? Really, it is too absurd.' •Well, don't be angry,' said Miss Clayton, smiling. 'I don't want anything. I was only talking of governesses ' lives in general, not of hers. You know I ought to have some interest in the subject, Louis, since, if you and Mr Mounsey had not offered me a home, I should have been compelled to be a governess myself, or to have gone in the woikhouse.' • How can you say such things, Laura? You are my own sister, and this was your natural home, as I told Mr Mounsey — though I had some trouble with him about it ; but he's so obstinate, aud such a fool into the bargain, too,' added his handsome wife f rowniutj. • Did you ever see anything like him last night?' ' Pie got a little elevated, that was all. Come, Louisa, I am sure he is a most excellent husband, and you've all your own way. 1 ' Oh, as to that, a woman's a fool who has not ; particularly if she n.arries an elderly man like Mr Mounsey. But about Mr Peel, Laura ? I think there is no doubt as to his intentions now, aud it will be a splendid match for you.' 1 Yes,' answered Laura Clayton, in anything but an elated voice. ' You don't mean to say that for nn instant you would hesitate ?' said her sister, quickly noticing her tone. • But you will never do that surely ; just consider, Laura, you have not a farthing in the world, and I assure you it falls very heavily on me entirely supplying your wardrobe. I owe Miss Lenado nearly a hundred pounds, and one of the largest items in her bill is your blue silk. It is really selfish of you even to think of such a thing. I hoped, of course, if you married Mr Peel, you would repay me something at least of what you have cost me ; and Mr Mounsey so disagreeable about money too,' 'He hasn't asked me yet, 1 said Miss Clayton, with some bitterness ; 'do not I be in such a hurry.' • I'm in no hurry ; you need not mistake me, and be for ever snapping up one's words; I'm in no hurry — but I say a girl, and not a very young girl too, would be mad to refuse such an excellent establishment for life, and I hope you will never think of it.' 1 And my feelings ?' ' Bah ! don't talk like a romantic schoolgirl, please, Laura. Marry him, and then indulge your feelings — when y©u can afford to pay for them ;' and witb these last words Mrs Mounsey tossed up her head, and went out of the .room loudly shutting 1 the door behind her, and left her sister alone. Long and thoughtfully she sat thus. She was reflecting on her position. She hud not a farthing in the world, as Mrs Mounsey had just snid ; not a farthing:, this handsome brilliant woman, which she could call her own, and the bread she was eating just then seemed to her to be very bitter. •My own sister, she thought, sorrowfully; 'my only sister, who knows everything — who shared all our early difficulties and struggles, and who, but for Mr Mounsey, would have been in the same position — to speak thus. But if I marry him I—and1 — and her head drooped lower — ' wha£ do I give up ? — a fancy, a foolish fancy, at best, for a young- man who probably never thinks of me — who perhaps cares for some one else. Yet I do not think there can be anything between him and this Miss Williams, or she would never be writing to bis cousin, Sir Hugh. No ; but that is not to say he would ever learn to love me. I wish I had never seen him — I wish I could drive him from my thoughts.' Agaiu and again Laura Clayton thought this; again and again counted over the advantages (and she was a woman who could appreciate them) that she would gain by marrying 1 Mr Peel. •Louisa would not taunt mo then,' she reflected, and he perhaps would not care.' , Still her mind was undecided, and she was yet mentally discussing the subject when she heard the front bell ring, and a visitor ascending the stairs, and rising hastily, she was just about leaving the room, when the door opened and the servant announced — 'Mr Manners,' and tho next instant George entered, and cordially held out his hand. • You have got b.iek then ? baid Miss Clayton, with some confusion. ' Ye% and I have not forgotten Mr Mounsoy's commission ; tho oavuire is all safe. I gave it to the sprvant in the hall,' replied George, in a lively manner. ' When did you arrive 'r' asked Laura. • Duly last night, and I feel so unsettled today that I came to bore you with an

uccount of my adventures ; for its a pleasuro to have some one to listen to one, and my poor old|landlady is deaf.' ' A flattering reason for your early vi«it, I must say.' 'Forgivo me, Miss Clayton,' laughed George, pleasantly; you know what a bear I am of old ; perhaps I only really wanted to find an excuse for the pleasure of seeing you again.' A bright flush came into Mies Claytons face. ' I was thinking of you,' che said, ' as you came in." ' How was that ?' said George ; and then he added, ' I atn glad to see you looking po well. But why do you wear mourning ?' ' Our grandmother, poor old Mrs Gerrard is dead. I only returned to Oldcastle a few days ago, for I was attending her duriug her last illness ; and you — you, too, look well. Have you done what you said you would do— you remember — left your troubles behind you ?' ' Forgotten them,' answered George. •Is that the way— the wisest way ?" • I believe so. Ah, I envy you men ; you hold your fate in your own hands.' •Not always ; but don't ladies al>o !' 'Of course,' replied Laura, lightly; ' but I must ling and let my sister know you are here. I daresay the servant thought she was in the room, for she had only left it shortly before you cnme.' 1 Oh, she'll come down presently. Don't disturb her, pray, on my account. I was going to tell you my adventures, you know.' •Well, begin then. Whnfc was the most striking ?' 4 1 hope I have made some money, for one thing,' said George, hiugliing; but would you beliove it, I have little or nothing else so tell ? I arrived tafely, and I got back safely. I was entertained at St. Petersburg in a very grand maunor by the Euglish merchu>t<i there, but thoy and their chicks jjre jmt like merchants and their families hgre, with tho oxception, I think, that tho children speak a dpzen languages or so ; and I mot with no adventures, except I travelled part of the way with a very pretty girl, and just as I was beginning to get spoony, and she highly agreeable, wo stopped at a station, nnd there was a great, bearded, ugly fellow waiting for her, who took her in his arms, and kissed her very affectionately. Mon Mail, said she, in the prettiest French accent in the world — for sho was a Pole, and we had been talking French, and there I was carried away, leaving the lovely creature with her great, greasy Russian.' • What despair you must have been in !' ' Well, I declare I was low-spirited for the next ten miles, and kept growling at fate, and feeling it was very hard that an ugly fellow like that should have such a pretty little wife, while I should be a disconsolate bachelor.' • I believe you are growing vain.' lls that vain ? Well, I suppose it is ; and now tell me all your adventures.' I 1 have had none ; for the last tw o months I have been in pocr grindmamma's sick room, and never saw anyone but the doctor.' • It was very kind of you.' 'Oh, no! I was only doing! what I could not avoid doing.' • I hope she left you some money ?' Laura Clayton shook her bead. ' No,' she said, ' her income died principally with her, and what she had to leave she lefi years ago to her only son. She could make no alteration in her will, poor thing, after I Aveut to her— her mind was gone.' ' Yet you are as bright and as charming as ever, after such a trial,' said George, looking at her with real admiration. • You talk about envying men — I envy you your cheerful, unselfish nature.' ' You are trying to make up now, I see, for your first pretty speech,' said Laura, smiliug. ' Don't expect pretty speeches from me, Miss Cluytou, it i«n't m me.' ' Well, talking about pretty things, reminds me,' she answered, looking at him Btcadily, ' lhat wo have someone very pretty in the house just now, who knows you and whom you know.' • Indeed ! And who may that be f ' ' Your stepmother's late governess, Miss Williams. She has lefc Narbrough, you know, and my sister has engaged her.' In spite of himself a deep flush at once spread over George Manner's brown face as Miss Clayton said this, and his voice sounded very forced and strange as he answered — ' I— l— am very much surprised. 1 •I thought I should surprise you,' said Laura, ' though,' she added, for a moment leaving her better nature behind in the first jealous pang at his evident agitation at the mention of Amy William's name, • though I thought you might perhaps you mighthave known, as your cousin, Sir Hugh,' is well informed as to her movements at all events, for he writes to her. She received a letter from him this morning.' ' 1 am not so highly honoured as Sir Hugh, jousee,' answered George, biting hW lips, and pulling his moustaches nervously, and with his face growing white and damp with the cold and bitter feeling at his heart. ' She is very pretty.' eaid Laura Clayton, half -ashamed already at what she had said about Sir Hugh's letter. 'Is she,' replied George Manners, absently; and then he added, rousing himself, ' Ah, yes, she ia pretty. Hugh, you see, has good taste. But what new mueic have you got P I heard such a charming song at St Petersbnrgh; I thought of you when I heard it, and so I bought it and brought it home. Will you honour me by accepting it V ' I am very much obliged to you.' ' What for ? For wanting to gratify myself? Never feel any obligation to anyone in this world, Miss Clayton. You have nojneed to. We do things to please ourselves, we men and women, not to please others. Self is the grand pivot on which all our actions turn.' Ah ! do not say that.' 'If it does not please you I won't ; but it's true for all that. We flatter people when we want them, or anything from them, so don't, pray, be taken ip by any civility.' ' What has made you so bitter**all of a sudden ?' ' Hugh Manners used to say the world had made him so ; perhaps I had better quote his creed. But I do not mean to be bitter. I mean to be highly agreeable, so what shall we talk ahout ? But here is your sister. Well, Mrs Mounsey, how has the world treated you since we met?' Mrs Mounsey received her visitor with the greatest empressmcttt. She had an idea, somehow that ho admired her, and admiration was grateful to her as the dew of the morning. Sho was a very virtuous matron, and shuddered at the mention of any poor fallen creature who had not this advantage. But she lud no objection to indulge in a little platonic, sentiment.il flirtation with any good-looking young man who gave her the chance. Not many had, and therefore Mrs Mounsey considered herself the pattern of propriety ; yet she blushed, absolutely as she held out hor hand to welcome George Manners. ' I am so glad you have como b.tck,' I shu said, 'so very jjlad. You must dine with us, of course ? Nay, I will take no excuse. Laura, dear, rnti down and tell cook to givo lib something very good ; and now I want to hear all your adventures.' Mrs Mounsey intended that Mr Manners should think her a very charming woman, and she actually partially succeeded, for which of us is above the gratification of . flattered ranity ? But

at the same time, in his heart was gnawing too strong a pain to allow him to have any pleasure in the society of the most charming woman in the world ; so he would not stay — improvising some excuse of an engagement at home, but offering at the same time to come any other day which would Miit them. 1 Come to-morrow, then, said Mrs Mounaey, and George Manners accepted her invitation. But when he wan again alone, what overpowering anger and bitterness he felt. ' What !' ho thought, as he walked hurriedly on through the streets after he had left the Mounseys ; ' what, not content witVt the vile schemes to take me in at home, sho must actually follow mo here — follow me with her lover writing to her at the very time, perhaps, to see how she gets on. Husrh shall answer to mo for this. I have looked over a great deal but this is too much. And to write as he did — swearing as to her innocence ; she's about as innocent a% himself — about as puro and as true. But what a fool lam to make myself miserable about her! She's not worth it — not worth a pang. I'll show her she has no power to wound me— no power at all, for I'll go to the Mounseys'. Why should I not ? Laura Clayton is a noble, beautiful woman— if hy should I not learn to love her, and not this poor creature Hugh has cast off. It was worthy of him, truly, to expect I would marry his mistress.' {To be continued.)