CHAPTER XXXVII. GEORGE'S STRUGGLES.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2182, 3 July 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XXXVII. GEORGE'S STRUGGLES.

4Mr George would make a famous doctor, I think, ma'am,' said Dr. Ruthyen to Mrs Manners the next morning, with a grim smile at his own joke. 4 The young lady upstairs is a different creature since he came ; I hope it will end all tvell now.' 4 1 know nothing about it,' answered Mrs Manners, overwhelmed with the consciousness of the only secret whe had preying on her mind, and also with the evident idea which the dootor entertained on the subject. < ( She'r* a nice little lnA«ie,' said the Scotohman, ' but nervous and delicate to an extraordinary degree. I took the liberty of giving Mr George a bit of my mind yesterday afternoon, ma'am, and I hope * helidn't take it amiss ?' 'I know nothing about it, doctor,' •gain replied Mrs Manners, for she did not know what else to say ; and had already been severely oross-questioned by the Vicar during the night as to what George meant to do, for his curiosity had at last become too muoh for his philisophy. But Mrs Manners had given her word, and she always kept it, with a simple faith which, as her husband sometimes remarked, 4 was rather refreshing in this age of expediency, but trying occasionally, exceeding: trying.' Long before the doctor had paid his early visit to Amy, and for sometime afterwards also, George was out wandering along the sands and links by the sea. He had not slept much through the hot summer night;,, and had risen unrefreshed aud feverish at the first pale gleam of dawn, and restless and excited had early left the house, and Mrs Manners was beginning to be very uneasy about him before his return. As ho walked through the grey and drifting mists along the links, and the fresh breeze blew on his aching forehead, all his whole life seemed to pass in somewhat dismal review before him. 4 1 prided myself on my strength,' he thought, 4 yet no girl is weaker. I prided myself that I believed and trusted that our happiness, both here and hereatter, is always cared for and looked after, yet I find myself cursing my fate and wishing I were dead every hour of my life. And poor Amy, too — that innocently I should have brought all this trouble and sorrow on her ! But my duty lies straight before me, and God help me to keep to that.' What that duty was George had very plainly seen, and had solemnly promised himself to do, the night he had first heard Amy's story — the night when they had travelled together to Narbrough, and when he had told himself that, for the sake of the love he bore her, he must tear himself away from her for ever. And he was not faltering from that resolution now ; he was only struggling with the feelings which this celt-imposed exile from all he cared for on earth naturally excited in his breast. 4 When a man gets to my ace, ' he reflected, 4 a new life seems very hard to begin. What will I be this time next year, I wonder ? What will I feel? I will not see the sun rise then over the old grey coast ; but perhaps my struggles may be over and my rest have come.' As George thought thus he lifted up his eyes and bared his head, and his mind wandered upwards from the troubles and passions of earth to the glories and peace which he believed 4 will be revealed to us hereafter.' 4 Yet, how the dust clings to us,' he said, half aloud. 4 How our tenderest and purest feelings are mingled with something that weighs and chains them down to earth ; but this warfare will not last for ever. There we are promised that we shall have rest. Almost as George spoke these words, the sun, which had been struggling amid the clouds of vapours of early dawn, broke forth and shone upou the sea, and on the shore, and on the upturned face of the young man also, whose heart was full of such passionate pain. 4 Oh! give me more faith,' ho cried, Htretching out his arms ; 4 oh, give me more faith to live and look up yonder, beyond the storms and clouds, which here darken and distract my soul.' And as

the morning broke around him, and each wave and riplet refleoted the beauty of Heaven, so did George Manners' heart borrow something from its boundless and infinite glory. • If He who made all this,' he thought, 4 has promised that His eye beholds us, and that Hi™ ear is open to our cry, why need we fear ? for the awful will whioh directs the storm also oovers the earth with verdure, and amid the vast millions of his creatures doubtless sees those who trust in Him.' And standing there bareheaded, with his face upwards to the sky, and with th 6 sea surging its great anthem to its Creator at his feet, George Manners promised himself to letd a new and a better life. ' How passionate, how hot-tempered I am,' he thought; 4 how selfish, how ungrateful, and how proud. I forget to count up all the good gifts I have, 1 think— my health, my strength, my youth ; and, because I oannot marry th« woman I love all these are but bitterness to me. Oh ! Amy, my poor, poor girl !— afad here George sighed deeply, and a most forgot again his nobler and better a ipirations in the dangerous swdet-ness which the thought of her inspired— ' had you not enough to grieve and trouble you without your foolish, generous love for me ; but to you, at least, I will be true. I will put away self for your sake, and try to cheer your weary, sorrowful little heart.' For more than an hour longer George' lingered on the links ; he saw the fishingboats return, and the wives and daughters harrying to the bay to meet and welcome the tired toilers of the «ea, to load their creels and baskets with the fruit of their njght's industry and peril. 4 They are happier than I am,' he thought ; and the next minute, ashamed of his repining and dissatisfied spirit, whioh he had been striving so hard to overcome, he turned and began hastily to retrace his steps to the Vicarage ; where he was Jheartily welcomed when he appeared in sight by his three sisters and his affectionate stepmother. 4 1 thought of course you had fallen into the sea, Goorgie, as you never came baok,' said Dolly, 4 do you know it is past nine o'clock, and papa has finished his breakfast.' f Nevermind, Dolly,' said Mrs Manners, 4 your brother is in plenty of time, and T've good news for you, dear, this morning,' she continued, as she poured out George's tea and otherwise looked after his comforts; 'the doctor thinks Amy much better thus morning.' 4 Has he been here so soon ?' asked Gcorure. 4 Yes, he called on his way first thing, as he was going to nee a poor man who has been badly scalded by a boiler ; and he told me to tell you ' and then Mrs Mauners paused, for Amy's unfortunate history recurred to her mind. 4 What did he tell you,' said Gaorge. 4 Oh, some nonsense or other,' answered Mrs Manners, blushing scarlet, 4 about you making a good doctor.' 4 1 know what it was,' said Dolly, triumphantly, *I overheard; he said, 4 Ma'am, Mr George would make a famous doctor ; the young lady upstairs is much better since he came. 1 4 It was very impertinent of him,' said George, turning a deep, dusky rod all over his handsome, brown face. 4 0h, 1 retorted Dolly, 'many other people nay that as well as the doctor.' 4 Hold your tongue, Dolly, and you and Katie go into the garden and help Janie to pick the gooseberries, and let George have his breakfast in peace,' said Mrs Manners. 4We never see anything of him now,' pouted the culprit; 4 what's the matter with you Georgie, that you get cross so soon ? 4 I'm not cross, Dolly — at least, I don't mean to be so,' said George, kindly. 4 Let them stay, mother, and tell me all the news ; and has Milly been dreaming of the little mermaid in the shell ?' 1 Oh, Georgie, it was »o beautiful,' said the ohild — 4 so beautiful, mamma. Do you know, Georgie really saw a mermaid, and she gave him a little shell he wears on hia chain, ani it bad been her house , ever so long.' 4 Georgie was only joking you Milly.' IHe said it was true,' said Milly. 4 Georgie didn't you say it was true V 4 Yes, true in a way, you know, Milly. It was a dream.' ' You could not dream the shell. When I dream I have nothing left in the morniug, and you had the shell.' 4 Georgie made his dream into a story, I daresay,' said Dolly, authoritatively. 4 Milly told it to us as she remembered it last night, and I rather liked it ; but if I had been makiug it up, I would have had a shipwreck in the end, and then the little mermaid to save the little boy.' 4 That's in the second volume, of course, Dolly,' said George, 'only my narrative didn't proceed quite so far ; aud in the third he should marry her, shouldn't he ?' 4Oh ! that would be rather a fishy affair, I think,' replied Dolly, eager to show her quickness, ' for aren't mermaids half fish and half woman V 4 You've quite spoilt it now, Dolly, said Milly, in % disappointed tone. ' I shan't love the little mermaid half so well any more if I thought she had a tail.' 4 Well, it's true— isn't it, mamma?' persisted Dolly. 4 1 don't know anything about such nonseuse, replied Mrs Manners. ' But now run away, dears, I want to speak to your brother ;' and when the children had left the room she continued —'Oh ? Georgie, what trouble I've had with your father last night about Amy. He said he would know all about it, and that he had a right to know, which I could not deny ; and he quarrelled about it so, and ' 4ls George come in yet, Nelly ?' said the Vicar, at this moment opening the door and popping in his long nose. 4 Ah, my boy,' he continued, entering, when he saw George ; 4 and how are you ? Your mother tells me you are going to stay a few days this time, and as you cannot have much to do here I want you to do me a favour. Tom Lilbourne promised me some fine trout-flies, and he hasn't sent them over ; and as I thought we might fish to-morrow up Meeside, would you mind going for them ? and you would see your sister at the same time, you know, eh V ' I intend going to see Hugh this morninpr,' answered George, rather annoyed by his father's request. 1 Hugh is a confound young scoundrel, in my opinion, said Mr Manners, irefully; 4 the less you see of him the better. Go to Lilbourne instead, George.' 4 How has Hugh offended you, father ?' 4 He'd offend anyone, I think, with his infernal coolness ; and, besides, I consider he was very insulting to Adelaide/ 'You forget who began that,' answered George, frowning. 4 Adelaide repaid Hugh's hospitality by one of the meanest and grossest actions which could possibly stain a lady's character.' |ta 4 Strong words to apply to your siafcer^c my boy.' 4 Adelaide deserves them.' And then' George added, iv a different tone — 4 But you are right, father, I ahould not speak thus of my sister ; and if you wish it I will ride over to Lilbourne in the afternoon.' 4 But the worst of it is you will have nothing to ride on. James wants the horse to go on some errands for your mother ; but when I wa9 your age I would have thought nothing of the Wiillc.' / 1 oau borrow one of Hugh's horses, I

daresay. lam going up to see him now, for I at least owe him some gratitude ;' and George rose and called his mother out of the room. * Tell Amy I will be back in an hour,' he said, looking at his watch ; * about eleven I will expect to see her.' •Yes,' dear,' said Mrs Manners; but George saw by her face that something was distressing her.' 4 Don't be afraid mother,' said he, kissing her forehead. 4 I'm not, Georgie— but folks talk.' 4ln a day or two they will find something else to say,' answered George, with * sort of smile ; and Mrs Manners knew by his manner he meant to keep his word, and that they were soon to part ; and her oomely cheeks paled a little, and she put her arms round his neck. ' One after the other, I think,' she said sorrowfully, 'I am going to lose you. But we will all meet at last, I hope, Georgie— ray Bonny, MiHy, and all.' 1 And in the meanwhile you'll do your best for poor Amy,' half whispered George, and his lips quivered as he spoke. ♦Yes, I'll do that, and I'll give her your message. And so you are going to see Sir Hugh!? Ah, well, dear, there are sad tales going about him— but it's hard to oome at the truth.' 1 You mean about pretty Peggy ?' 1 Yes, but it's no good talking of such things; poor lassie, poor motherlesß lassie.' (To be continued. )