CHAPTER I.
No particular beauty. Only a taking expression, and a pair of wonderfully deep brown eyes, in which lay — some people thought — the chief attraction of the face. | Such, at all events, was tho opinion of Godfrey Hume. For those eyes had haunted him, more or less, ever since he had first seen them. And yet he did not even know their owner's name! Some three months before the time of which I write, Godfrey Hume had, so the doctors said, a narrow escape of brain fever. He had been pieparing a series of papers for a well-known periodical. They had been papers requiriug much thought and care, aud he had worked at them night and day, to get them done by a given time. His friends remonstrated, but all in vain. They told him he was wearing himself out ; burning the candle at both ends. He heeded them not. He had yet, he said, to learn what giving in meant, where work was in question. But this is a lesson that has to be learnt, sooner or later, by all who would not be drones in the world's great hive, and it came to Godfrey Hume. The overwrought brain refused any longer to respond to the demand made upon it, and its possessor broke down at last. The doctor shook hi 3 head professionally, consulted with an eminent physician, and then ordered change of air and scene, and entire cessation from mental labour. Godfrey, much against his will, had to submit. He felt that those throbbing headaches must be got rid of, if he desired his life to be of any future use to his fellow-men. Being set aside in any way was to him a novel sensation. It had been a joke among his friends, in the dear old Oxford days, that Hume never knew when he was beaten. And it was true ; for battling with and ove: -coming difficulties was a war he delighted to wag '.andhe generally came off more thau conqueror, In examintion or sports be was always well to the front. A favourite alike with tutors aud men, his square, athletic frame, fair locks, and sunny blue eyes were affectionately remembered by many an old chum, who would have felt hearty sympathy for him in bis present helpless condition. As soon as ho was fit to travel the doctors ordered him abroad, fearing that if be remainel in England the temptation to resume work might prove too strong- to to be resisted. Godfrey accordingly hastened to arrange hia affairs in London, before going down to Berkshhe to bid farewell to his father. Mr Hume, senior, was the vicar of the small country parish of Chorley. Godfrey was his only child. He had lost his wife some nine jears before, just after Godfrey came of age. She was a bright, clever woman, and had been intensely beloved by her husband and son. Mr Hume lived alone, his household consisting, beside him-elf, of his old housekeeper and two servants. Hi 3 wants were simple, and he bad many objects of interest. He kept no cm ate, and attended sedulously to the wants of his people. There was not a cottaffe in the parish in which the vicar was not a frequent and ever welcome visitor. Godfrey bad taken up literature as a profession. His work layjin London, still he often ran down to spend a little time in the ivy-covered vicarage where he had been born. The paiting between father and son was a painful one on both sides. These two were much to each other, and neither could tell what might happen before they met again. Godfrey returned to town, and in a few days set off on his travel?. For weeks he wandered on the Continent, spending most of his time in Switzerland, rapidly regaining health and strength from the iuvigoiating mountain air. August had well high ended when Godfiey found himself once moie upon English ground. He found several letteis awaiting' him at his room in town. Among the pile was one which bad been left but a few days before. Let us take a peep over over Godfrey's shoulder while he reads it :—: — August 21th. Dear Hume,-- 1 called today at \ our rooms. Awfully scrry tonii^ you ; tho-iiiht you would have been at home by now. Can't call acrain, as I'm olf to Scotland grouse, shootinu'. Hope j'oii have returned quite well, :md jolly btown. I have just coin' 1 back from '"vuideio-^, a charming little i»bce on the South Dcvi n coast. Splendid se\ and beach, and u<> people to speak of, which is an advantage, you know, when you want to aimw youi self in your own way. 1 went there to fi-ii and had a good tune. T\w. hotel l is g.».d ; I promised to recommend it. Why <!on t you run down? You like fishing, and you'll find town baking hot. Take my advice, old fellow, and conii? ! Always yours, Walitk Koss.
Godfrey gazed out of t,he window at the*tieet. Yes, it did lo>k hot ;as hot as only a London street cm look in the month of August. He ce:t»inly did love fishing, us Ross> bed said, The iimfatiou was a great temptation ! Well, before deciding, he would talk it over w ith his father, and hear what, he had to My. He feared he had been out of h.une-s almost too loug already. The next day found H n at the vieira<re, receiving- a heartfelt welcome from his dear old father, who was thankful iudeed to get his son looking >o robust and full of health. The Sandcross idea charmed him greatly. A little hVhing wh jn-t the thiug for Godfrey. He ought not to to woik directly. He wished he could <r<» himself, but when Godfrey warmly urged this, for he fancied — was it only fanc\ r —that l«if father was locking older and more wo: 11 Mr Hume bhook his head, and said, iaii'Ji.ugly — '"Old trees do not bear tianspl uitnig, and I could not be happy now away flora Chorley and my peopl-V Neither would bo allow his t><>n to st'iy with him. No, he mu 4 go, and write him long letters, about the place and the fishing. They would arnuoe him, He need not stay away long , not more tli.in three weeks. And M) Godfrey went, rather against his inclination, for he w .i» liiumcd, he knew not why, with a faint presentiment of coming e\il. It was late one Scpteiaber eveuiuir when he found himself at S n«eios-. J[e ai lived cold and hungiy, for tlu t ) i h diive from Kingafoul, tae in. rest, l.nlw ;, .station, was a lori^ one, . «id th i> w d blow cold across the sanuN. The pi did not loi-k very inviting, he hou^ht. it was a dull, grey evening, an I thuc * >- a mist over the .mm. 1' • < \» i ve», lie interior of the hotel at "1 ihrh < ..>< h stopped was blight and i'h . f «il *"i 'U_'.i. and a good dinu"i had beiii ,? ;• i> i i'>» him by the landloid, to wlmn he hii v\ lit ten for looms The --u.j shoi.e brilliantly next moining, aid although lh" place did not quite satisfy Godfrey's idea of the beautiful, still the sea was, as Ross had bad, ".splendid." Sandcross would never become fashionable ; its gieat distance from the tailway station piecluded that. A few visitors, however— there was not accommodation for many,— always found their way thither in the summer months ; folks, who wearied of eternal bands and piomcnades or who cared for the sea tor its ow n sake, the good fishing and bathing to be obtained in it. Boats were to be bad fn the hiring, and it was pot long before
! Godfrey found one to his liking, and many hovus did he spend on that y.orioua ocean, ''never le->s alone that) when alone : " for he could find food for the mind out of most things. The hotel tible lie kept liberally supplied with food of anothei kind. Aftet a while he found himself taking an interest in the visitors htajing at Saii'lcios-. His window commanded n extensive vitw of the beach and &ea ; it had, moieo\er, a balcony, where he could sit, read, and smoke to his heart's content. H« i soon got to know moat of the people by Mght. There was the typical pa[ia and mamma, with the six children, one above another, "like st^ps,"' brought down to run wild and build sand castles, while papa read his day old paper, and mamma did her fancy woik. Then there was the bucolic old gentleman, slioit and stout, w:th the bulf '\aistcoat aud bunch of t-eals. With him dinner was the chief event of the day. He used to greet Godfrey q'lite afftctionately on his return home fiom his tithing cx;iedition», more, CJodfiey suspccU'd, for thu sake of the contents of lih iu-ket than for his ovrn There was also a reading paity of \ery joung men ; that ii to &iy, they rend a little and boated and played tennis a gie\t deal, ami cot up mild flntations with the two or three girls in the place, who were v\iliing to amns,' tliem^hcs by amusing them. Tins Kind of people is to be met with everywhere, and create but a pa«v,ny djgree of mterc>t. Tli< re wpiv, however, two persons I lnve yet to deMjribe, whom (i>>dftey found hinwlf *.o constantly watching that ;it length they seemed to bf, in fancy at lfM.^t, quite old acquaintances. This couplp consisted of tv\o ladies, mother and daughter Godfrey decided, and thcie wfn .sufficient ic^emblance between them to justify thix conclusion. Both were tall and gracefully imde, with well set heads and delicate bands and feet. But there tbo likeness co i hed; for wlnle the elder lady was fair, with light hair, bluo eyc^, and a pale, suffering face, the girl had a bright, changeful expie-sion, rhestnut hair and eyes— well, Godfrey knew they were dark, but as to their exact i-hade, — be was too far oiF to determine it. Thet-e two Indies spent ino^t of their time on the beach. The elder one, who was evidently an invalid and an object of gieat solicitude to her comp.iui< n, recl'ned on the cushions aud nigs ;u ranged for her comfort, tho gill either reading or working by her side. Godfrey oft oil pissed them, going to and fro to his boat. He aitnrted, .-eemingly, but little, if of the:r ;ittt.i.tion, and bo caught himself wondering more thin orif-o whether it, would be possible to become better arqiuint* d, when fate, or wh.tlg you will, qa 1 . c him the chaucc he coveted. Ho was r.' f nrni!'g fiom fi-hiug ono evening, rather later than usii tl. Th( re the}- woi'\ in their fav>, ir.ite pi tee oti tho beach. G'lt'iey felt a littlo Mirpii-fd, for th"y genti.iDy. he hid ob-vi\eil, avoiicl b'i"C '"it in the evening ;i: r . As be npprujf h> d t!if ir \'h ; 'iity ho heard th> -nu'ri of a most h naming comlt'', pioieedi'ig evidently fiom the pooi invalid. The mil w,i, b"tiJing ov-t h'T, t-iii 'h di-trc acd. X"W wis ilo r\f"'3 s ojpoitunit , au 1 ho wa> quick to ay iii l.inis- If of it. Tutting down his bisi: t and ta< X!", lie wtnt up to the mil. Kii-iiiiT hi-> cip b^ s iid a- few \v->hln of swmat'iy. and ashed h'T if he could iis-i-t her any p<iv. She looked up info his f-i<'<\ h<~v fjos filled with tear-, arui -uoli eye^ tl ey weie. too! largo and df>ep, and the browne-t he hid ever seen. '• OU !'' she said, '* if you would help mv dear mother home, it would indeed ho kind. Tempted bv the beauty of the evening, we have .st lyed out lohlv, I feir, th iv v.',ii prudent, and this dieadful cough his < miii 1 on a^ tin. It i-i so \ cry untortuant''. She h is been so free fiv.'ii it since v\c have been here, I was hopicg she had q'nte 10-r it." The eon^h it 1 i-t ceased, .nA tlv p v>r 1 idy bin^c bai k exhausted ou her cushions. G ilfny, h uhnir a p,i-in,' boy, de^ir" 1 ! him to take up his fi»hin.r ,inp?r «♦■ is t i the hotel, the 1 leturninir to the 1 i.ht's Ikpluvd hinwlf it their disposj. The mil gladly irive lier mother into his kee,)iT)g ; they bad not far to and *'ie, -eeiriir she wa-» quite un lble t> WilU, raided h«r gently in his arms and c in i <\ her up the hf n h to the hou-e, :uA mt » f}>e room to w'm h the m'rl I»'d the way. I'l ifinif her on the be 1, Godfrey olTeicl to iro for the dor-tor. "Oh, no! f'\ ink vmj,' s u<l f},.- m'n, I hi-li \e h v l,.e> far fio-n hi i e ;1/ -Me>, 1 know \vh it r tv 1 be, to almuiist : My <]<■ ir lusher, I iriieve M f siv, hislonif bfn si,} j.vt t.i tin s • att '< k-. I niii-r >rcr hei b i •]< t> out o\\n d "efur -is s,n,n a-nos.-ible. If \,>u." she contimu 1. will wiit for in r i. in th 1 n'lr r !•■ om. I will 'oiiip tn \oi pri'Mjitlv.' Thus ills m >*d, Gidf-'V lefr Iht, and w.-itel i- si • hid d'sii.'J. G»/'ii- T on* of th > Ui')l>'V it th • -c i h th'>'i.rV >> ti I) iiitifilt}^ which h i r i -) lit'ly 1 » >ke 1 mt i hi-*, " Wi'ii »"Vs ,->t r'i > s>al," iv very truth, he styled them. Godfrey Hume \us not what i y cal'e.l an impressionable nnn. He ha<l st en many prettj .im.l ehainiin^ women ill liis ti.ne, an 1 In 1 made gooil iivM'f hi> visual o'-'jins, aft-M* the nnniier of h;& kind ; but he had never b.cn in love, and lie was not in lo'-e now NVjvei tliele-s, lie decided that the man who won tint uiil for his wife would be mi enviable ciie. He was roiw d fio'ii his leveiie bv th" fntiriiiofof th" ol>i" 't of lws c.'Mi^liiInaiiswei to his ir.,uii i< % sh,-« to.] him Ik t motlur w is liettei, anil hail fail a nsieep She must letui nto i,e.i diuvtlv, as she n-'L'ht waUe an 1 mi=.s h»'i . s he thanked him waimly for his kind at-i-t-ance, siymg sho was Mite her mother uouUl feel oijinlly grateful. An 1 so Godfrey took lii> Lave, but not Infoie he had asked and obtained peuni&sion to call the following day. But, as it is the unexpected that alw.ivs happens, that c ill v\ is never made, and Goilhev w,»- destine 1 to leave Nandcioss ignorant even of the name of tho qiil who had to attiacted him. On his way back to the hotel he v\ is met 1 y a man carrying one of tho.^e yellow btown envelopes we all know so well. " A telecram tor you, sir," said the man, tou<Jiin<r h;s (in, "it came an hour ajo. ' I've ben'on th • look-out for you evci so Inns'." (ioih-e) t>nk the unlive, and tcaiing it optn. ti id the>e words : " Ketu. > . t ■■,,-,• if \oi vM-ii to -c 1c 1 join fifq>i a'i'e "' Ah ' tl.it toiebedine of ill, woull that lie h it'!.- (it dit! It wis but jestinhy In had tee ivel a long l*4ti i fiom Ins ft'hei and now . '1 he 1 mdloi'l was t ill nf s\ ,npath\ : lie was s ( is ij to ]ait Pom m> ).K isant a L'uest. Of com- 1 the Kingsfonl co<eh hul cone lon^ li<foie, I. ut tin ie\\ i, it iiiifge uul pair at Mr Hu.iie' ■ d'spos J. Godficj oideied it lo l>e L, ( >t kmilv ,>«, soon a> pi>sibl\, and, -:uitc!ii' •_' a ln-f\ it.tal, he. was b o i on his vv,i) to Kin^sfo:,!, wheie he miibC slvpthe nijnt, so as to j,o on by the tiiat ti.iin r '\t noi mug. Oh! how- he jiin.'l. .i<« h. ha 1 iwer played oefose, that he .n-ght not he too lite. His piavei wa- nsv.eied, for lie found his father still aliv.. l\.ial.\si-, had seized him, ami hisdi\3 weie mnuluieil ; but he kutvv his son, anil v\ as conscious almost to t'ne l<)*t. The cml came, and Godfrey saw his list surname parent 'iid beside the wife he had loved so deaily and mourned so sineeidy. The newly appointed vicar, a Mr Fen ton, turned out to he an old college friend of Golfrej'a, of whom he had lost for many ycaig. He was a curate who
had k° eu patiently waiting for a living in order to get married ; he gladly took the \icaiage furniture off Godfrey's hands, Godfrey, of course, ivt\min« all the books and other valuable's for which he carred. These ho took back to London, whither he returned in Boon as possible, Mr Ponton tilli-ay him, at parting, there would always be n bed and a hearty welcome awaiting him at his old house whenever ho shoukl care to avail him>elf of them. Godfrey was well enough endowed with this world's goods, for his mother's fortune had been no mean one, and that, with his father's small pvopeity, had of course come to him now. But as ho sat in hiMOom^thiit night ho folt a lonely nuui • ho had not realis-d till now howmuch ho and his father had boen to each other. . Well ! work is a groat panacea in time of trouble, as many a one has fouud out .Woro OoJfiey ; he loved woik for work mac- he determined to devoto himself mure than ever to it now. Ho had not forgotten S indcross or the happy idle d.iyh ho had spent thoie, and ho often caught himself looking into tWo lovely st nil eyes " Biownie " was the name he had given the girl ii his thoughts tho colour oftho.se eyes had suggested it. Ho 'had occasion oue day to write to the laudlord of tho hotel concerning some tlrn*s he had loft behind him in hw hasty flight. In this letter he made inquiries for tho invalid lady, and asked her narne.^ A leply came in due course, but it contained no satisfactory information. The lady and her daughter, Mr Vincent wrote, left Sanclcross soon after Mr Hume ; the hou«e had bren phut up ever since, the woman who had kept it having gone to live with some relations in the North ot England. As to the name— well, he had heard what they were called, but rack his biains he miifht, ho couid not bring it to mind. Theic were so many coming and going, it was confuting like. I hen followed some expressions of sympathy with Mr Hume in his recent trouble, and that was all.
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Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2242, 20 November 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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3,147CHAPTER I. Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2242, 20 November 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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