MARRIAGE BONDS; OR, CHRISTIAN HAZELL'S MARRIED LIFE.

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 240, 11 October 1888, Page 6

MARRIAGE BONDS; OR, CHRISTIAN HAZELL'S MARRIED LIFE.

By the Author of ' Hedged With Thorns.

CHAPTER X.

(Continuad.)

* Here she is !' was whispered when Christian appeared at the church door* ' Here she is ; and only -think, she's got a black silk dress on—a mighty unlucky thing for a bride, now isn't it ?' 'Corded silk.' was the answer, 'and no great shakes either. I saw the vcrv same at O'Neil's cheap sale for five shillings a yard. Well,'-now, wou-cki'v you have thought lhat My Hazel 1 would have chosen a finer, grander sort of a y.o*'ng lady ? lie needn'.t have goue to England to Jjnd her ; sure the Irish girls would muse the English look blue any day. and there -are girls at Ballintrague that would beat Bana^her.' /They say she has .mighty pretty English accent,-' remarked another ; ''anil she has a Good clear skin, and I don't know but there is something about her j_Aus I J3.-y.or saw before; the. Ballintrague gii*l.s haven't got. • it—a sort of a quiet Stillness, and ye", with a flash looking up from under it-.' 'Don't be undervallying your countrypeople, Mrs Mullaghan.' Meanwhile Alick' had posted-himself o>* a flat tombstone to finish' hi* ciiat with Mr Desmond, while Christian,pushing scarlet. -at the audible remarks ■which were passing "around her,; 'y/alked down the little path alone behind the gracefully-shawled figure of Mrs Ai-'bnthnot and the broad' shoulder* of tat Mrs Mullaghan.

■ ' Well, now, I think she seems a mes sweet youncr crather,' ■ will.pored Mrs Mullaghan, not knowing who was behind. ' ' Do you really ? i ara no glad tc hear you say so, dear Mrs Mull a '.ban,' answered Mrs Arbnthnot. 'I was ait aid you might be a little disappointed in one new neighbour ; that you mightthink herrathor insig-nificant-looking ; there certain!} is- very little style or fashion about lisr, bat that may be'only my own idea, and I h.iye been accustomed to such very superior girls. A dreadful thing, wasn't it, for her aunt to tnrn spiteful and die without leaving ber a penny? I sea she has gone into very slight mourning, hardly, any raonrniiig at all-a ■white bonnet and grey glove;? -but somepeople have very little feeling for thenrelatives when they are forgotten about money matters, it waia a terrible blow to my poor Mend Alick this want of fortune, that I know to a certainty, ani no doubt it must be trying to havo a penniless'wife thrust on his hands; especially when he fully expected things to be otherwise. I shouldn't be surprised if he reyrotted his marriage alreadj

'Now wouldn't that be a q u.aps turn,' remarked Mrs Mullaghan, 'ant? the honeymoon not much more than over ?' f Wei!; he might think he hud been caught in a trao. - I am.rather surprised inyseii' at Alick'Hazel 1 having been taken in so easily, but there is no knowing how clever some people are.' ' Mrs Arbnthnot now caught sight of Christian, and she turned round with empreswm<mt. A 'My dear Mrs Hazell !' she exclaimed. «I had no idea you were so near. I was just telling Mrs Mullaghan how well I thought you were looking : we heard that your journey had knocked you up terribly, but '/ see no sign of it. Allow me to introduce you to our good friend Mrs Muli-->g!>an. the best-natured creature in tho world.. I really do not know how we could exist without her—she is the good angel of all the country round. Whenever lam in any household dilemma I always say, 'Send for Mrs Mullaghan,' she is so genuinely Irish, with all that hospitality and profuseness that one hears so much about. What agreeable days we spent at Sandington, did we not? sadly interrupted by your poor aunt's death, but then we know how much better off .she is!' and Mrs Arbuthnofc turned her greyish-bine eyes up to heaven and gave a decorous sigh. 'My dear niece Rose,' she continued, 'is not at home jusc at present: she is longing to make yorrr acquaintance ; the moment she return's I am convinced she will be rushing over to Moynalty, andi, of course, will pay my respects in form.' To all this Christian had to make polite answers, to smile, and to be inspected and canvassed again and -again. So barndoor hens.cackle round a young chicken when it makes its first appearance in a new farmyard.^ The mativaii quart iVlmire at length came to an end. Mrs Arbut'hnot gracefully took her seat beside Mr .Desmond in the open carriage, smiled.graciously at her friends.' fluttered her black and lavender parasol, and was whirled away. "Come, Chrissie,' said Alick ; and Christian joyfully mounted into her place. 1 'She'smighty clean about the pasterns any way.'-muttered Dr, Mullaghan as he caught sight of her small feet and aieat ankles. • . ' This tribute was Greek to Christian, but a slimmer of something like complncency lurked about Allele's thin lips as-they drove along. It gave Christian courage to say— 'Alick, don't be angry, but are you really sorry you have married me V 'What put that into your head?' inquired Alick, peering into her downcast face ; ' lam sure I never said anything of the kind.' <■ N—no, not exactly ; but I couldn't bear that it should be so. If people* went on paying that I was a dead weight upon you, that you wanted to get rid of me, and if you felt it yourself, I think-I would run away.' Christian's voice was trembling, and great tears were brimming over her yearning, earnest eyes. ' Don't be ridiculous, Chrissie: when people talk of running away they are always childish and absurd. Where would you run to ? No, no, dear,' and there was. a softened tone in his voice — 'no, no, I daresay we .sbp.il pull together very well; but you must give yourself up entirely to your domestic concerns, you must not attempt to interfere in such a business as that of the Morans. I manage these matters in my own way, and I won't allow anyone to dictate to me—especially my own wife.' There was- something approaching to tenderness in Alick's manner. Christian said no more, and a hope quivered through her that in spite of all—in spite of her unexpected, want, of money, in spite of Mrs Arbuthnot—she might yet keep some hold of Alick's auctions! She saw plainly what she was expected to be—a kind of tame white cat with clipped claws and a collar round its neck. A longing burst upon her to,-bave sin. lipped olavys, po collar, to be her whole self, to feel a purer and a higher air blowing upon her, and making service no burden? Still, serve Alick she must and she would ; and if by any means she could creep round his heart, all might yet be well. His heart! She forgot what machines some hearts are, and yet they answer their owners admirably, beat with extraordinary regularity and precision, and nOver get out of order.

CHAPTER XI.

c ._!#s. ROSE DESMOND PAYS A VISIT. 'Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in hor eyes' __\Ji3prising'\vl)at they look on.'

Osr every Tuesday morning an ' ass's car' went from Moynalty to Ballintrague. One particular. Tuesday, Christian was sitting before her davenport, puzzling over a list of the flour, oatmeal, and sugar which would be required fur the week, when Che door w^;swdd§ftiy tb. own open. •

' Miss Desmond, mum,' cried. Peter, thrusting in Ins head, and a tall lady in ;i riding-habit sviffcly crossed the room.

Christian looked up, and saw before her a face and figure -noc easily forgotten—a figure lithe, full, and round-waisted, which lifted itself up with the proud gtace of a young, palm - tree ; the small head rose superbly from the sloping shoulders and soft white throat, as if it were glorying in its own beauty. The face matched the form. No peach could be more downy or more richly ripe than Rose Desmond's cheeks; plait? of thick black hair were twisted about the small curved ears, the full lips pouted aggressively ; the dark blue eyes, with their sweeping lashes, looked straight up with a cool unflinching sty re. Yet what -s.tr nek Christian snore than all was a earoioss, haughty coot.emptuo.usness which seemed to say, 'Of .course you admire me ; I expected nothing- else. Everybody admires me:' There was .a slight rise and fsill— not exactly a brogue— in the-words as she began —

' Yon «cc ftlra Alick H&zell; suppose, we shake hands ■?'

'Oh, indeed I will L' cried Christian, struck with honest admiration ; •' you are very good to .come and see mo so .early.' 'A.m I ?' aninv.(r.red Rose'wilh perfect indifference. ' I .only came home yesterday ; .and I hate moping about the place with nothiug to do, so 1 ordered out the horses. Da you like being here V do yon like being married ?' she asked brusquely,, .m sb« whipped a. meek of dust offher habit. 'Oh ! I doc't know. I haven't been bore very long yeV hesitated Christian ; ''and everything is m diifersntirmn w hstfc it used to be at liojne.' -

' Nicer or not -so nice ?' inquired Rose. ■' Weil ! t. io country seems co mi. and ■strange ; there are no pretty Tillages or limb school-children ;t-he people I see about look like beggars or savages.''

' And so they are,' replied Rose, opening her eyes to their fullest extent; 'no one ever thinks about them. Who would bother one's head about a whole lot of ragged wretches? I know I never do :as long as I enjoy myself and get what 1 like, I don't care a straw about anything else. You go in for being benevolent, I suppose? I believe some people do.'' 'No, indeed; but I can't bear to sec human beings look so miserable; you know they are our brothers and sisters, however dirty and ragged they may be.' ' They are not my brothers and sisters !' cried Rose ; ' they may be yours if you choose, but I should be very sorry to think I had anything in common with them. I believe- Eustace Hazel! used to go on in some way like that, but he only got himself into scapes, and everyone laughed at hins. There is some name for that sort of thing — Quix — Quixotic, isn't it? Aunt Arbuthnot says it is most absurd going on about/ common peop'e just as if they were like ourselves. She used hardly let mo speak to the lodgechildren, and was always telling me that I inhdit catch some horrii. disease from them. They quit ® ijoy being dirty, and they hate Protestant., to interfere with them. It is much better to- leave them alone. Do you fool dreadiullv moped here?' asked Hose, abruptly turning the subject and half sup pressing a yawn. ' Weil ; no, not exactly.' . Alt'! you are mnnied and settled down ; but t7 she cried triumphantly, ' I have the world before me,- and I mean to make the most of it. Papa took me to Dublin last season, and we went to the Viceregal Court to one of the drawing rooms and ever so many-of th. ball.. I did enjoy them immensely. I was said to-be what you call a success, and certainly it was glorious fun. I had troops of people running after me, and do you know I actually got engaged twice while I was there.'

'Twice, didyo.i?' • Yes ; the first —I won't tell you hie name—was one of the gentlemen in' the Household. I took a sort of fancy to him because of those pale blue silk linings which all the Household wear in the front of their coats, turned back, you know, like jihie—it gives them the air as if they were somebody. That did very well till the 9th Lancers came over, and there was a Captain Xewbolt in the regiment who dancod so well and brought mo so many bouquets and concert - tickets, and who was quite the fashion, so I thought I would keep him on, and I told my Household friend that ( really I would have no more nonsense, that' papa would object, and so pn. Ho felt it a good deal, poor fellow, and Captain Newbolt has gone dangling on aver since, but I intend to send him off some, day soon, It is just like a no*:el to have two real admirers—there are always two,, you know, one nine and one not,, but both mine aro very nice. Still, even o>o says ib is gui © ridiculous for me to be wasting my time Aver here, that I ought to go to London, like the Misses Cunnings—you have heard of them, haven't you ?' ' The great bfantics, you mean ?' .'Yes ; I don't see why I shouldn't do as well a. they did.' Nous verron-i, In the meantime I intend to get as much amusement or excitement, Or whatever you. like to call it, out of life.as I can. What an age it Is since I : was in this room ! it isn't quite so musty-fusty as it used to bo ;.' those inu»lin curtain's and those llowers are an improvement. I'he last time I was here Eustace was at homo ; he was the only one that could ever manage me ; he was so big and strong that he only laughed when»l tried to pinch and scratch him, as. I used to do to everyone. Aunt Arbnthnot and papa always gave in, and did what I wanted, but Eustace never would. Where is he now, by the way ?' 'At Copenhagen, I think ; but Alick says he may be home in a year or two.'

' How I wish he would come ! It would make things a little more interesting - and Alick, where is he ?' ' He has driven into Ballintrague.'

'He has got a nice little chestnut mare, I see, eating her head off in the stable. Why don't you have a ride on her?' 'I never "thought of such a thing, That is Alick's own mare,' arid ho generally tfcles her himself.' - '. .' A '

' But you do ride, don't you ?' . A • Oh, yes, and lam so fond of it. There js nothing I like half' a? ro"Cb,' ?.nd Christian's eyes kindled. ' "".

' Then go and put on your habit directly and come across the country with me.'

' Vet I don't know ; perhaps I ought not,'hesitated Christian ; 'Alick, might be angry if I took out Whitefoot without asking him.' , ' '. v ... -' - Rose Desmond flung herself in her chair and burst out into a derisivedaugh. ' Well! ' that beats; Banagh'er,' as Mrs Mullaghan says,' she cried. ' Here you are a bride, not more than five months married, andyoutalkaboutyour husband being angry at you. Why, of course he is bound to like everything you do. What's the good of being s .diced if you can't do as you choose ? You should see the riot I intend to run, and if my husband told me not to do anything, that would bo the very reason that would make me miserable till Iliad gone and done it. Papa once bought a new hunter that had never had a side-saddle on, and he said tome, 'Rose, whatever you do, don^t mount that wild creature : I wouldn't ?ee you on his back for a hundred pounds.' Well, my governor had scarcely turned on his heel before up I was, racing away and over the fences like a bird.'

« And how . did it all end V inquired Christian eagerly. ' End !it ended beautifully. Papa was as proud as Punch of what I had done. The very next day I heard hitn boasting to. the master of the hounds of the sph'it I had, and how I mounted a horee that the grooms were afraid of. Besides,' no one ever told you not, 7) ride Whitefoot; Alick never did, did he?

* No, certainly not.' «Well then, what possible objection could he have to your doing it? The orea-.

tnre wants to be exercised—it would he a positive charity -to twke her out. You ■Ina'ke afes^-i ifeout ■•notfoi-ng,' I declare You do. Off with youj. >,w, put on your habit, and we shall have a ruinous scamper, see if we haven't.'

'I am sure,' said Christian, as she moved hesitatingly to the door, 'that there is nothing wrong in going, and it certainly would be such, a treat, and 1 don't see how Alick can blame me.'

' Blame you !' cried Rose, ' not he. "What on earth could he blame you for? 1 should like to see the person that would blame me for anything I took it into my head to do, let alone such a trifle as that.' Still some scruples lingered in Christian's mind : bub by the time her new blue ridinghabit was on they had all vanished, her eyos were fairly dancing with delight, and she.was fully prepared to 'sip the fleeting pleasure as it flew.' Aud once in the open air, with Whitefoot stepping out briskly under her, ami the fresh autumn breeze blowing briskly iron, the mountain,, she could keep in her enjoyment no Ipnger, but burst out with - ' How delightful this is J lam so glad I came !'

'Of course you are,' answered Rose. ' You look a different being already. You are very sober, staid riders over in England, I believe. I will show you what we Irish can do in that lino. Come, Pat,' turning to her grey -haired .groom, who was ambling behind,.', am not goipg to havo any hammer, hammer, hammering on the hard high ) oads. Tbe op.co country for me !' And striking off into a field, she began to tear away at a swinging pace. Rose Desmond was born and bred a rider ; film bad toddled into tha saddle when she could hardly walk, and had been lifted up on her black pony when her small hands could hardly hold the reins. Since then riding had been a daily necessity to her. There was not a meet of the "Kilmore bounds which she did not attend, and the beautiful Miss Desmond, ' the best rider out,' was as well known as the master of tho pack. Of foxes' brushes she had already sufficient to stock a cood sized shop to set up a retail denier in besoms. Over stone walls, iron railings, and ditches she now went, and Whitefoot, who was well trained to the work, followed obediently, so that Christian, whose soul delighted in advenftire and difficultly, found herself a good second, keeping on well and losing no ground. As they dashed past a lonely farmhouse or a nest of cabins, voices would be heard crying after them, ' -More power to yea both ! More power to ye, Miss Desmond, jewel! Oh, /dory ! did yez see that ? Shele'ptit like a squirrel. Sure it's she that b the fine young lady, the rale beauty ov Iho world. Success to her any way, and God sind her safe to her home !'

' ' These lower orders that you despise so much pay you plenty of compliments, at all events,' "said Christian, as, panting and Hushed, they at last slackened rein. 'Yes,' answered Rose calmly, 'I have been hearing that I was ' a rale beauty '. ever since I can remember. That is nothing new to me ; I am quite used to it.' And she raided her head with :\n air of mo id superiority and seif-eonsc. a^iess. ' And you don't feel more cha..table to the dirty beggars even when they praise you?' 'No; why should I? They cant help doing it, and beside, we Desmonds were like king. o. cc. Only for those troublesome wars, we might, be so still. The people about feel as if We belonged to them %-theytake a' brag out of'us. But why should that make, me take any more interest in them? I fling a copper to some of the little brats now and then, and they are delighted to pick it out of the mud. What more do they want V The walls of Desmondborough now began to peep out in the distance. It was a large square freestone building, with an Italian portico and pillars in front ; while at the side there were terrace walks and ribbon flower borders. It had a comfortable modern air, and there was no strange mix-ture*.'-of ,-the. weird, the gaunt, and the commonplace as at Moynalty. The scenery, too, was far less wild. Tall Carrignaholty'a head could not even be seen : and a large park, carefully cultivated and covered with fine trees, gave it the look of an English country house. 'Now for Aunt Arbuthnot,' cried Rose, as she sprang from her saddle.

At tliis name Christian secretly groaned, for she had never met Mrs Arbuthnot that she had not got some little prick or stab. There was nothing for it, however, but for her to gird up her spiritual loins and propare for the attack.

( To be Continued.)