CHAPTER IV.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVII, Issue 52, 28 December 1899, Page 23

CHAPTER IV.

In a private sitting-room in the G Hotel two men were seated. It was a tender evening in April, and the warm sunshine streamed into the apartment, lighting up clearly the features of its 1 occupants. The face of the elder — or apparently elder — man was good to look on, for it was a noble one. A pair of flashing, dark eyes, which for all their gleaming had a touch of intense gravity in their depths, illumined a strong, manly face, to which a finely-cut mouth, though concealed in part by a grey beard and moustache, gave an air of additional strength. The skin, tanned to a deep brown, spoke of long residence in a southern clime. A man of tall and powerful build, yet he struck one as being prematurely aged. His companion had an unmistakable military cut, and looked some years younger. 'I'll tell you what, Denison,' the latter remarked after some moments of silence, 'you are wearing yourself out over this business. It would be just as well to let it rest for a little while. Here you are, and since you touched English soil you haven't given yourself a moment's relaxation.' ' Relaxation I ' repeated the Major. ' I must do my duty first. If I could even be sure that Isabel and the ohild were dead it would be better than this suspense.' ' Yes, but these detectives will unearth it all sooner or later, and there is no earthly reason why you must spend all your time and energy on it too. Tell you what,' as a new thought struck him, ' just come with me to the L Hall to-night. There's to be a high-class concert, and a debutante who is said to have a wonderful voice. You can't have lost all your old love for music' ' No, I have not lost it, Meredith, though I had little opportunity of indulging it among the Maghidi, unless their battle songs could be called music ' — with a grim smile ' But I thought of calling on Ferrer this evening to see if he has got any clue.' llf he had he would let you know quick enough. So you've just got to come with me ; there's no getting out of it.' Major Denison smiled resignedly. ' Well, if your're so bent on hauling me off, I suppose I must go, bo that settles it.' ' That's right, 1 rejoined Colonel Meredith, as he rose and took up his hat. ' Well, I have to dine at the club. I shall call round for you at eight.' ♦ Very well. I shall be ready then.' Major Denison was as good as his word. His friend found him waiting for him at the appointed hour. It was merely to please the Colonel that he had consented to go to the entertainment, and not from any pleasure he expected to derive from it, though possibly the music might have the effect of diverting his mind from his troubles. Yet the moment he entered the hall a strange exhilaration filled him and his spirits rose so high that he marvelled at himself. All his senses were possessed by a vague feeling of expectancy for which he could in no wise account. They had chanced on good places, near the stage yet with a view of the hall. It was with unwonted interest the Major looked at his surroundings. He noticed that the audience was a large and fashionable one. But presently the orchestra commenced playing and he gave his whole attention to listening He fell into a rapt and dreamy mood, drinking in to the full the long-unknown pleasure of music. In a dim way he was concious that someone was playing a prelude on the piano. All at once the clear flute-like notes of a girl's voice fell on his ears. He closed his eyes the better to enjoy the song — an old English melody well known to him in Mb younger days. It brought back tender memories of his youth. And the voice, was it familiar too ? Where in the by -gone years had be heard just such notes as these 1 He must look at the singer presently, he told himself ; she had three or four verses to sing yet. He mußt enjoy them to the utmost, then he would pick out her name on the programme and fix her face on his mind. But he was rudely awakened from his spell of luxurious lethargy by a nudge and a quick exclamation from Meredith : ' I say, Denison. do look at that girl. She is your living image.' ' What girl ? Where ? ' questioned the Major, blinking his eyes to accustom them to the electric light. ' Why, the singer, of course. I never saw such a striking resemblance. The girl is surely your daughter.' Major Denison started violently, and then gazed with eager eyes at the girlish figure on the stage a few yards before him. Clothed in some clinging white material, her lovely dark face illumined by the elated look which the knowledge of success alone can bring, can this beautiful, stately girl be our old friend Rosie 1 Yes, fame has come to her at last. She realises it with a throb of delight as, her song ended, the whole house bursts into a storm of applause. The stage ii literally covered with flowers, and cries of ' encore ' ring from every part of the ball. She sees Bhe must give it, so bowing low she begins a lively Irish ballad. All her nervousness has vanished with the fear of failure. Her eyes are dancing with delight, and she ventures to look at the audience for the first time. Her gaze falls on the face of a man seated just beneath her, and rests there. His eyes, strained and eager, catch hers and hold them as if by magnetism. A feeling of vague bewilderment seizes the girl which makeß it impossible for her to withdraw her eyes. Mecbanioally she sings on to the last verse, her gaze still locked, as it were, in that of the man.

More plaudits, more flowers, yet she heeds nothing but those strangely familiar eyes. Suddenly her mind flashes to her father's portrait in the locket. Ah. that is the face she is so strongly reminded of! Great God, how like ! Can it be? But the intensity of the thought chases the blood from her face, leaving it white bb marble. Bowing to the loud-applauding house she disappears swiftly behind the stage. ' Come, Meredith,' excitedly whispered Major Denison ; ' I must see that girl at once.' Meredith got up, and the two men made their way out of the hall. The coucerfc was but half over, and their departure excited some notice. Outside the door the Major paused. 'Her name?' he asked anxiously. .'I forgot to look at the programme.' llt is Miss Rose Vestris. It may not be her real name, you know.' • Rose— did you say Rose ? Why, that was the child's name, Rose Agatha. Come quickly, Meredith, I feel it is she.' Hastily they crossed to the back of the building. The attendant shook her head when they inquired for Miss Vestris. 1 Miss Vestris was ill, but she would take up their cards.' In a few minutes she returned saying Miss Vestris would see them in the manager's room. Rosie, still in her white dress, was seated in a low chair when the two gentlemen entered. With a visible effort she rose and bowed. Her pale face wore an anxious look as she waited for them to speak. But Major Denison suddenly felt the delicacy of his task. It was not so easy a matter as he had thought to question a girl whom he had never met before as to her parentage, and his friend felt equally uncomfortable. However, the Major at last mustered up courage. 4 1 crave your pardon, Miss Vestris, for thus intruding on you, bat I feel compelled to put to you a few questions which I am sure you will answer frankly when I make myself known to you. lam the Major Denison who has figured so conspicuously in the papers lately.' ' Yes ?' said Rosie inquiringly. She was trembling now. The thought that had been lurking doubtfully in her mind became at these words almost a conviction. Weak with emotion she sank into her chair. •You know,' continued the Major, ' that lam trying to find my wife and daughter. Your voice is startlingly like my wife's, and Colonel Meredith says, and I cannot help agreeing with him, that you bear a striking resemblance to myself. We may be only jumping at wrong conclusions, of course, but you can sec us right at once. Is Rose Vesttis your real name ?' The girl was so agitated that for a moment she could not speak. ' I don't know,' she said at length in a tremulous voice, ' but I have never known another.' 1 But you are not sure about it. You have a doubt as to its reality ?' Rosie paused ; then said quietly : ' I will tell you how it is. My mother died when I was but a tiny child. Her name was Madame Vestris I sometimes doubt that the name was her real one. I know of no relative — no friend even of my parents. But oh !' — with a sudden change of manner — 'if you think lam your child — and I feel lam I— did you ever see this V and with swift fingers she drew forth from her dress the locket which had been her mother's. At sight of it he uttered an exclamation of recognition. ' Why. it is the locket I gave Isabel before our marriage. ' Isabel ! ' repeated Rosie. ' And your name, sir ? ' she asked excitedly. ' Henry. " From Harry to Isabel " was inscribed on the back, and inside ' ' Is your photograph,' she paid slowly, disclosing the miniature. ' How like,' cried Colonel Meredith. ' Denison, you have found your daughter.' ' Thank God,' said Denison reverently, as he folded the weeping Rosie to his breast and imparted a kiss on her brow. ' But the bitter is mingled with the sweet,' Major Denison said after a short silence, during which father and daughter gazed on each other with loving eves. ' I had hoped to find my Isabel also. Child, tell me of her and of your own life. My poor little one,' he added, tenderly stroking the dark hair, • without a single friend, what mast your lot have been ? ' The three sat down, and, her hand clasped in her father's, Rosie related the circumstances of her mother's death, as she had been told by tbe nuns and Mrs. Griffith. Her father was deeply shocked; his tears flowed unrestrainedly Colonel Meredith was astonished to hear that the unfortunate singer whose sad end had so attracted his notice at the time was none other than the wife of his friend. If he had only known it the child would not have been friendless all these years. Then Rosie told the simple story of her own life — how the nuns had adopted and educated her — how Rev. Mother had carefully kept everything which had belonged to her mother that might be a help in discovering her relative— how she had now at her lodgings the packet of letters and her own little garments marked 1 Rosie D.' 4 Rosie Denison, as I know now,' she concluded happily. At this point the manager looked in, but seeing tbe room still occupied he told them not to disturb themselves, as he would leave orders with the porter not to look the doors till they left. ' Oh, don't trouble yourself, sir,' said the Major, rising. •We are going now, Meredith. Will you oall a cab ? ' ' But I haven' c yet changed my dress,' exclaimed Rosie. ' Well, what matter, I can put on my cloak over it.'

Meredith had the cab in waiting for them. At the Major's request he accompanied them to Rosie's lodgings. Half an hour later, with a grateful yet aching^ heart, Major Denison was looking at the packet of letters penned by himself nearly- 18 years before. The chain of proofs seemed complete as it-was,yet the morning's post, in the shape of the Rev. Mother's letter, added still stronger links. She little thouarht thatßosie would have found her father before that letter reached him.