Untitled

Auckland Star, Volume XII, Issue 3546, 17 December 1881, Page 3 (Supplement)

Presently the door was opened, and, not Helena, but her mother came in. Sebastian was as much struck with the change 'in her as he had been shocked with that in

Helena, but in a different way. Mrs Spcnceley looked Letter, happier, younger, 1 and more contented than she had done since her husband had made his fortune eighteen years ago. And she looked so "because she .was so. She did not mind the narrow means, the small house, the two servant ~ girls, and the constant necessity for her pre- ' senco in the kitchen. All that was as^the tread of life to her, and she thoroughly enjoyed it. Sebastian, with a sigh of relief, .-felt that here no condolence was needed, no -delicate skirting of dangerous ground. He might look cheerful, and ask Mrs Spenceley ■with confidence and success how. she ■was. The nature of her answer was visibly -written upon her face beforehand. "Well, Mr Mallory, this is a pleasure! •'I could scarcely believe it when Helena said she had met you, and you were coming to see us. I said, ' Eli, he'll never come, not he!' But sho said she though If you Avould; and she's right, it seems." "She certainly is. ' I am very glad to see you looking so well, Mrs Spenceley." " Oh, thank you,' said Mrs Spenceley, •lightly flinging a purple satin cap string •over her shoulder. "I've nothing to comwlain of, thank God ! I've got on much tetter than I'd any reason to expsct, and I'm thankful for it. It's hard work sometimes, but I've a broad back. Which she certainly had. " That is very fortunate, he said, with becoming solemnity. "Yes; I've four gentleman. You'd wonder where we find room to put them all, but the house is more capacious" (Sebastian conjectured that she meant spacious) "than it looks, and we've room for them all Very nice gentleman they are, too; all'in business in Manchester, you know. They're quiet and well behaved, and they pay tip regularly; and," she added, droppin" her .voice, "none of your stand-off «cnts. They are all disposed to be most Fticndly, all except Mr Harrison, and he's L': en»a"ed to his cousin, who lives in Nor- ,: thunioerland. He hears from her regularly, ' twice a week." . ' '-"'• "Yes," said Sebastian, with an air of the I -deepest interest—the air of one thirsting for more information. " But all the others—Mr Frnlay, and Mr Smithson, aud Mr Jenkins—are most i!. friendly, aud quite gentlemen every one of ■ them. " Indeed, Mr Jenkins," she dropped her voice again, "is very much interested ■ "Ishe?" said Sebastian, still with unfeigned interest. '' Yes, he is. He's getting on, too. And a perfect gentleman. On Sundays" Sebastian leaned eagerly forward—" on Sundays they often go out into the country for the day,sometioies even for the week end: but Mr Jenkins, never," said Mrs Spenceley emphatically, "Mr Jenkins dines with its." "Poor Helena !' thought Sebastian, while he said" Oh indeed!" " Helena said I oughtn t to have entered into such an arrangement; but I think she's mistaken, and I think she'll come to see her mistake in time." '.. _"Mis 3 Spenceley does not feel so much a interest in Mr Jenkins, perhaps, as he feels , inher!" . * '*' "That I can't say; but if she does, she conceals it, which is but natural, after all." "Quite natural, in such a case," assented Sebastian. _. . "Here's the tea-things," continued Mrs Spenceley cheerfully, producing a bunch of keys, and going to a cupboard, whence she drew forth, to speak metaphorically, flagons wherewith to stay her guest, and apples for his comfort—in the dry language of reality, ajar of apple jelly, and a glass dish contaiaing conserves of a deeper,more sanguinary hue. ,■■-,,, ■ •, ■ While Mrs Spenceley was half-buried in the depths of the cupboard,- Helena came jntothe room again. She had changed her dress, and attired herself in another relic of splendour, a black silk dress, rich and handsome, if somewhat old-fashioued ; and she had tied an orange-coloured ribbon round her neck, and put on a little lace frill, and Sebastian felt that fhe looked lovely, and began to hate those three gentlemen who were disposed to be so very friendly with a deadly hatred. Her eyes fell upon the fighre of her mother, half ia and half out of the cupboard. It was a very •fnnny sight, and when she turned to feebistian there was abroid smile of amusement •upon her face. It looked as if it was_ the first that had been there for along time, and Sebastian felt it only right to smile as

genially in return. I Mrs Spencclcy, emerging from the cuptoard, summoned them to the table ;. Sebastian felt aS if it were a dream as he handed Helena her chair, and took his place opposite her. No surroundings, however poor, could take away from the queenly -beauty -of her face and figure.. was indeed more queenly than she had ever been before, ■ lie thought, as he watched her across that simple board. VThe meal .was soon over, and then Mis Spenceley, rising, said : "Mr Mallory, you must excuse me if I ■leave you. I must go and see about their t^as,fa;ndthen I've promised to, go> and sit with Mrs Woodford, next "doors but one. She's a greatfriend of mine. Her husband's ■fatherbuilt mos.t of th.fii houses in this street, and ■ was a rich man, but he never could keep anything, never ! and she now pays a ;rent for the very hoiise her father-in-law built; This world's full of aps and downs/ - -. ' '/Itls indeed. Then I shall not see you again this evening?" "Well, no. We shall most likely have a little supper together, and so I shall leave Helena and^ybu to, have a" little chat. But I . shall hope to see you again soon, Mr.Mallory, if -youdon't mind coming all this way ~ out of town."' ; ; ;',■■■'•"...■ He hastened to assure her that he thought :■',;■" sit a very nice drive, and not at all far; and :< Mrs Spenceley, disturbed by the sound of it 1 ring at the bell, said : '.',M "There's Mr Finlay VI, must g0.:.'., .Good evening, Mr' Mallory;"- "'■'■ ~': ~. She-was gone, and they; "were alone. ~-j Helena' : , had taken, her .work-basket: to a j ,: little table near4he window^ and had begun ;si to embroider, a little strip of muslin. Sebas- ■ > tian thought the sofa, which was just on the other-side of the little table, Offered a suitable place for the purposes of confidential * conversation, and he, went and sat down ~'.'' nponit. . - "Isthere no one in Thanshope about . whom you wish to inquire, Miss Spenceley ?" J he began. . • : ; ,;v. "I—oli,how. rude of me! I'have never ■ !-asked after Mrs Mallory. Howis'slie?" ," She is very well, thank you " "I am glad- to hear it," said Helena . .calmly ; and Sebastian felt rather uncom- . ' fortable, for Mrs Mallory had not displayed . ariyinterestinthe Spenceley family since' ~. their downfall. : !■ ■.-...• '.'Do you see much of the Thanshope .--people," continued Helena, in the same calmly indifferent tone; not a resentful ■",,.;tone,-'but a conventional one, which was much more disagreeable to Sebastian than a resentful one would have been. It implied that Thanshope and all that therein -"lived had become a name, a memory, a thins? . .^c+l.« «„»*. j.« i tc t-»_ :~:t i- 7i

of the past to her. "Do you visit much," she added; "goto many parties ?" •'N—no. lam ,very busy, lam busy all,,day, and I don't care touch for the Thanshope people. All my near friends,

those in whom I took an iutcrest, I have lost."

" How very distressing ! How has that conic to pass ?" "Hugo yon Birkenau has gone to Germany. He is studying music, and intends to make a profession of it. He has begun to give lessons already." " Hugo give lessons !" cried Helena, looking up surprised. "Yes, I will tell yoii all about it another time. I see you don't half believe it. But it is true. We have not quarrelled, lam glad to say; but he has gone. Ho has begun life for himself, aud henceforth our paths are divided. There was another. You did not know him. I could scarcely call him one of my friend-, but I miss him. He is one interest less. There was Mr Blisset: he is dead. There was you -at least I hope so." " I don't think we ever were really friends ; I did not I ike your opinions." "But not enemies?"

"Well, perhaps not exactly; at least, not at last," said Helena, with a sudden change in her voice. "But," sheropcated, "I did not like your opinions. You shut me—l meau you.denieu to women the right to participate in those larger questions which I hold they ought to be interested in as well as men, for the sake both of men and of themselves ; and I never would give in to that as long as I live."

She did not speak vehemently, but with a decision and calmness unlike her old agitation of manner.

" I wonder how I shall over make yon understand my real views on that subject," he said despairingly. " You said you had no views on the question. Perhaps, if you;had ever tried to find out whether I had any understanding, you might have succeeded in iinding a tiny scrap, somewhere very low down. But never mind, it is of no consequence now. I can never help forward the questions I take an interest in, as I once hoped to do ; so you need not be afraid of my going astray. I have lost the power." " Miss Spcnceloy " "I think you have forgotten one of your friends," suggested Helena, with a change in her voice which she could not quite conceal.

"Have I? Which?" he. asked very meekly. "Miss Adrienne Blisset." " All, yes! I actually had forgotten her. Lnever see her now, either." " Does she no. longer live in Thanshopc ?" asked Helena, bending over her work.

"She still has Stonegate, but she is scarcely ever there. I think she has taken a dislike to tho place. And when she is there I do not see her. As you say, she is lost to me too, for we onco were friends."

Sebastian's voice did not change. It was quite steady and composed. Helena still seemed interested in her work as she said :

" I should think that must be the greatest loss of all to you.'" "In some respects it i». At first it was a great loss. Now I feel it less. For two years I have been learning to live alone. SmUe scornfully to yourself if you like! You may not believe me, but it is true, all the same," " Oh, I can beliove that you found it hard to lose Miss Blisset's society. She was no ordinary young-lady, ■•■- If she had once been your friend, it must have been difficulty to resign her. And people spoke of something more than friendship. I heard often that you and she were engaged."

" Did you ? I, too, have heard something of the same kind; but there was no truth in the report. We were never engaged." "Ah! people will talk, you see !" " Naturally,' but I don't think they talk so much any whore as in Thanshopo." "Perhaps they haven't, so much cause." " That is rather too bad." " You mean that people are not often so rude to you. I can quite fancy so." "You will agree with mo that I have lost all my friends."

"You do not seem broken hearted," said Helena. You look well and cheerful." She raised her eyes, and surveyed his face, strrtightly and composedly. ' Sebastian wished the look had not been so entirely self-possessed. "Head too busy a life to be brokenhearted, "he replied. '' Pray don't suppose that I spend my time in thinking how lonely I am."

"I never supposed' anything of the kind." " It is simply that I once had friends, and circumstances removed them, and I have not been ablcto fill up their places. I have worked hard—really hard; and I think I have learnt some good lessons in these sad years." ; . , "Yes," said Helena, looking'up, with the old eager interest in her eyes, the old brightness upon her face. "You must indeed have learned some lessons. My greatest trouble in leaving Thanshope was that I lost sight of all my friends during the distress. I have had no interest like that since then. You have. And you have j had other interests too. I 'sawthat they I had asked you to be the Eadical candidate, j when Mr Lippincott resigned. There is a j pro«pect before you! Have you given your answer yet?" ";; . ; , ' "My answer is due to-morrow. And upon my honour, I don't know* what it w going to be. What would you advise?": : ; "Mr Mallory!" -| "Yes!" \' " ■ ' ■' •,: !

, "Why do you jversist in saying such things? Do you think it is amusing?" I " According to you, I must have the most wonderful faculty of amusement that any man ever possessed. Please, do I think what amusing?" ,'/'

"Do you think it ariinsing to ask questions of that kind? To solemnly aslc advice when you don't want it? Tp consult a woman, and a young woman, upon an im-, -portantstep inlife? Wedon'tunderstand these things—at least, you say so, .and I; choose to take yon at your word, so far as you are concerned. Ido not choose to ;be treated as you once treated me, when I was in earnest, and then be appealed to for an opinion. I'have no opinion on the questurn." ''■'■! V ?:■'.■! . -.-.■ i " I wish I had never opened my lips ! upon that question. You have never for-, <nven me, and you never will," said he, m a deep tone of mortification. "I, too;> was in earnest when I asked you to-night what you advised. " I have been vacillating, and considering and wondering what was best, like " ;'< i;//.!..i till ■■ uj "Like a woman. . , ; ,<

"Like.a lonely man who has no counsellor to whom to apply." " IJow pathetic 1" '. "Will you really not give me one word of advice ? Would you accept or not ?" " You do not want my advice. You—it is absurd! You have lots of men to advise you. What can you want my advice °She spoke impatiently. Stung by her tone, words, and manner, lie leaned suddenly forward, saying: " I do want your advice, Helena. I acted like a consequential fool toward you at one time. When your troubles overtook you I was made thoroughly ashamed of myself. You behaved like a heroine. Tell me, should I accept or refuse t Give me your opinion, and, by heaven, I will abide by it.! 1 can trust you."

"Then accept! With your abilities and your responsibilities you have no right to refuse." "I shall accept," was all he said, and there was silence for a time.

Helena went on working, with how great how immense an effort, he could not know. He sat and meditated on what he had done, on the fact that he had submitted his conscience to the guidance of a girl's voice, and that since that voice had spoken every hesitation, every doubt had vanished. Not a difficulty remained.

"You will bo almost certainly elected," said Helena, after a pause. " Then your life will busier than ever. How will you manage ?" " This is a problem which is even now troubling me. I must have some help. Ido not know where to turn for it. lam overwhelmed with business, really." "Are you? I wonder at you spending your precious hours here," said Helena; and the moment after she had said it her face became crimson.

" You think tho time wasted, and you wonder that I should waste it here?" said Sebastian, and looked at her steadily.

Helena did, at this point, show a return of her former sensibility. The flush remained high in her cheeks. Her eyes fell, and her hand trembled as she resumed her work. Sebastian was much too good a tactician to lessen the value of the sign he had wrung from her, by coining to her assistance with any casual remark. Ho remained perfectly silent, till Helena, appaparently finding the situation disturbing, etartod up, exclaiming impatiently : "How hot it ia! Oh, how liot! My needle gets sticky, and I can't work with a sticky needle. ... ...Whonyon are elected —anil you are sure to bo elected —you will, as you say, be very busy ; but what an interesting kind of business ! I shall often think "

Sho stopped suddenly, " Never mind my life." said he, beginning to sec wliero the power on liis side, and the weakness on hers, really lay. Tell me something sibout your own." " About mine—my life !" said Helena, with a little laugh. "That would indeed bo an exciting history—too much for your nerves altogether, I fear." "Tell me, or I shall not know how to think of you. It is so annoying not to know the tenor of the life led by some person in whom one takes an interest. What is the name of the parents of your pupils ?" "Their name is Galloway." "Whatnort of people are they?" "Theyare rich people." " That is nothing to the point." " They are people with fad% and yet they are very kind to inc. I teach their children —as much as they will allow mo, that is They beilevc in letting the children grow up happy, and nover punishing them, which means —" Helena smiled.

"Which means that every one else, and you particularly, are to grow up unhappy, and Jive in a state of eternal punishment," said Sebastian resentfully; " disgusting people!" "They are not disgusting, and they have a right to bring up their children as they think best."

Sobastian found that Helena would not complain. She evidently accepted the inevitable resolutely. She had become very reasonable and sensible. He wished she had been less so.

" Mra Spenceley looks well and cheerful," said he, at last. " That must be a comfort to you." "Poor mamma ! Yes, it is," said Helena with sudden tenderness. '.' What a great deal she has had to go through, and how brave and cheerful, and uncomplaining, she is 1 Sho makes mo feel ashamed of myself, and yet I cannot see things in the light in which she sees them. '

" Mr Jenkins, for instauce, on Sundays."

" Oh !" exclaimed Helen ! and then after a pause, " No; mamma and I differ very much on the subject of Mr Jenkins."

"You see, I know why 1 may not come on Sunday," ho said. "Do you ; I thought you would not enjoy Mr Jenkins's society : butnow, if you li'-to, you may come on Sunday and have the pleasure of meeting him, We are glad to sec our friends, if they care to visit us."

" Our friends .1" It was the turn of the eminently reasonable to feel mr'st unreasonably annoyed at beimr classed .along with Mr Jenkins as "our friends." Helena had succeeded in turning the tables very completely upon him; It was useless to try not to feelmortifiednud snubbed. He felt both, and Helena stood, looking the picture of unconscious innocence, waiting for him to finish his good-bye. "You have changed, Miss Spenceley," said he. " You hare developed the power of being very " "Kudeand unkind?" suggested Helena. " Perhaps adversity has soured my temper. It has that effect upon many natures, and I never was one who could endure thwarting, as you may remember." "May I be allowed to come again ?" he asked, almost humbly. " We shall be happy to see yon, whenever your other engagements allow you to call," said Helena, quite coolly and distantly. The answer chilled and stung him, and yet, he asked himself, what more would he have had her say ? " You say you are so very busy," she continued/remorselessly, "and if you accept this invitation, and if Mr Lippincottrosigns, which I suppose he really intends todonow, and the election comes on, your time'will indeed be fully occupied." " Bilfrl am not forbidden to come when I have time?"

"Forbidden I Oh no ! As I said we are always glad to see our friends." j "Good-bye," said he. "Kemcmbcr you are answerable for the step I am going to i take." ' ' • ■■ " ■ 11 You say so, but I wonder bow it would have been if we had never met 1" said Helena carelessly. They shook hands, and Sebastian, "was gone, with the words still echoing after him: '' I wonder how it would have been if we had never met ?' ! "Howindeed?" he mut'ered to himself, " arid how is it to be now that we have met ? I don't know how it will end, but you shall look at me differently from that, Helena, or " ■' ■"''."' (To be continued.)