A MATTER OF MILLIONS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 261, 4 November 1890, Page 6

A MATTER OF MILLIONS.

BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN, Author of *Tho Leavenworth Case,' 'The Forsaken Inn,' Etc., Etc.

BOOK SECOND.—THE RIVALS. CHAPTER XV. FRIENDS. In a surnmer-houee, half covered with verdure, sab two beautiful women: one with a noble poise of head, a gracious and dignified manner, regular features, and a womanly expression; the other with slighter proportions, but with a strange, unearthly sweetness in her look and tone that went at once to the heart) and awakened its deepesb emotions. The former was blonde ; the latter of a fair complexion, but with an aureole of dark hair, and eyes that were large, black, and brilliant. They sat side by side, the violet dress of the one mingling with the white garments of the other ; and to neither could a man have said 'No,'had the language of their lips been of entreaty, or the glance of their eyes an invitation or appeal. Miss Aspinwall was the younger of the two, but she looked by three years the senior of her more delicate and childlike companion. They are talking. Shall we listen to what they say ? • And you cannot sing to me—to me v/ho overheard you once at the signor's, and was so irresistibly moved and charmed that I stood outside the door with my hands clasped and my bresith hushed, thinking I had chanced upon the performance of some great p7'ima donna, ?' 4 1 might eing for you if I thought we ■were alone and none of your many guests ■were hidden behind the curtains or portieres. Indeed, I know that I could sing for you, the one friend who has smiled upon me in jny misfortune and opened her doors to shelter my defenceless and unprotected head. 0, I am grateful to you !lam so grateful that I would be willing to do much more than sing for you, should chance ever put ib in my power.' •"your company is all that I ask, dear Signorina. Since that night when your hopes came to such a disascroua end, I have cherished but one , wish, and that wa3 to open my arms in comfort to you. But a strange timidity held me back. I feared to seem intrusive. I remembered that we had never spoken, and dreaded your first look of astoniahmenb . and displeasure. , And ■when at last I did overcome my fears sufficiently to call upon you in your home, you can imagine my self-reproach at finding I : was too late ; that you were, as I believed, dead, and thua removed for ever from my sympathy and love. Bitter rearet overwhelmed me, and I vowed then, while strewing flowers above your silent breasb, that in future, nothing should ever hold me back from those in distress but their own refusal to receive me; and when 1 heard that appearances had been deceitful, and that when I saw you, you had been only lying in a trance, I felb as if Providence had heard my prayer and that I should yet have the opportunity of telling you of the love which I felt for you.' •Ah !' aighed the eignorina, while the tears welled up in her eyes, • I am unworthy of such interest; lam of your care. Do not love me co well. JlOu may be disappointed in me.' Miss Aspinwall smiled. 1 You have not disappointed me yet,' she asserted. 'As for the future, we will be such friends, that regret shall not find room to come in between us. Do you think you can love me, trust me, rest with, me, and be happy.' . The signonnae eyes, which had been lowered to the ground, rose slowly till they rested on Miss Aspinwall's face. There was trouble in them, bub there was gratitude also, and a sudden light that seemed to come from an awakened soul. • Love you ?' she repeated. ' Ah, there is no doubt bub thab I can love you. Bub—' she added, in another moment, with a restless change of manner, ' did you nob think It ebraDge when you found me on the platform at this place, alone and without apparent purpose ?' ' No, for I knew that Providence had led you to me.' • The look which had filled the signorina a eyes when Hamilton Degraw spoke to her of God, re-appeared in them at these words of her generoua-hearted friend. Bub she did nob leb ib become visible as she had before, bufc turned her face away towards the wide stretch of beautiful undulating country which lay before them. • Perhaps thab is true,' she assented, but there wae nob so much trust as fear in her tones. 'I am sure,' she went on in haste, as if anxious to cover up any momentary disaopointmenb which might have been occasioned by her manner, ♦ that if you knew jny posibion you would think I needed a friend. lam not only withoub an adviser, bub I am threatened by a danger—' 4 1 know, I know.' • You know f

'Yea. You will pardon me, Signorina, but—' 'Don't call me "Signorina;" call me " Jenny." That is my true name, and I should like to hear it from your Hpa.' • You shall.. I know, then, Jenny, that you have reason for dread. That because of this very name, you feel thab you have reason to fear. Bub you will be safe here. No one shall know that you possess this name, which just now aeems to be the harbinger of persecution and peril. Besides—' • But I would rather not conceal the fact that it ie mine. Therd is a cowardice in doing so, which is not agreeable to me. Perhaps, because I am the victim of another cowardice which I cannot suppress. Since I have failed as a singer, the wojrd " signorina " galls me almost beyond endurance. I hate its very sound, and long to hear myself called again by my childhood's name. I>o you think there is any harm in yielding to this preference ? Would you mind introducing me to your friends as Miss Rogers V • Not) at all; why should I mind it if you do not? But itaeems like giving up your Old hope entirely, and I, for one, still think you will reap the honours to which your Toice entitles you. I have a scheme—' .. § «Ob, do not talk of schemes, dear Miss AspinwalL Leb-uB rest without thoughtsef the morrow, in this paradise of sunshine and verdure. I have never seen anything so delightful as this place before. It is an experience for me to be here; let me enjoy it and forget, it I caD, that the world holds any other riches, treasures or rewards. That little bird sings sweetly; if I were free as he and had the earth and heaven for my home, I could sing too. I wish I were a bird, how my throafc would swell I jean almost fancy in thie solitude that 1 "am. Do you think anyone would hear if j 5 • Ob, oh, do sing. Just an aria, Jenny. Hark, the little fellow is urging you on. Surely you can rival his notes. . The signorina smiled. An exquisite colour broke out on her cheeks and she looked so lovely that the noble woman at her side was filled with admiration. Then without further words, as if impelled by an inward enthusiasm she could no longer resist, she opened her lips,, and song issued forth, -so pure, so sweet and so entrancing that the little bird who had previously failed tne silence with his voice, stopped in amaze and bent hie head to one sido as if m inquiry as to the source of such delightful The ipofc occupied by the summer-house in the large and amply cultivated grounds vres eomewha* * e s»°vecl froia the dwelling.

Perched on a slight knoll, ib commanded a view of much of bhe counbry around, and for this reason was a favourite spot of resort for Miss Aspinwall, who had an eye for all thab was boautiful, and a hearb for this especial scene beyond all. Bub it had one drawback. Bub a few feet away ran the fence which marked off her property from that of her next neighbour, and as that neighbour took boarders.she never telb herself quite safe in this place from intruding eyes. Thus ib was thab, when the eignorina began to sing, Miss Aspinwall leb her glances bravel in the direction of this fence and the winding walks beyond, but seeing no one, gave her full attention to the song which was being carolled for her and tho birds. Ib was melodious as heart could wish or taste exact, and she was drinking in the mellow notes with delight, when suddenly, without warning, the soaring notes trembled and fell, and glancing in haste at her companion, she beheld her sitting petrified wibh amazement, gazing into the neighbouring garden. Following her look, she wag herself surprised to perceive a man standing before them, returning gaze to gaze, and that wifeh an intensity which proved he had not been unmoved by the song he had overheard. She thought, at first glance that she did nob know this man, but in another moment she recognised him for the artist who had interrupted her in her work of strewing flowers over the signorina on that : memorable afternoon of her supposed death; Instantly she showed as much feeling as the woman at her side had done. A beautiful flush rose on her cheek and ehe stole a side glance ab the startled singer, as if to see whether her own emotion was observed. Ifc was nob; for after the first moment of surprise, the latter had burned away and was looking: toward the house as if she longed to take refuge in flight. 'You know him V whispered Miss Aspinwall.

'Oh yes; oh yes. Bub I must not ccc him. Why has he come hare? Ib is fatality; I musb go.' Misa Aspinwall did not seek to detain her.

' I will go with you, , she said ; and they left the summer house together not turning their heads, though the temptation to do SO was equally strong for both. 1 1 saw him when I lefb the flowere at your house,' observed Miss Aspinwall as they hastened over the lawn. 'He came in before I left. Is he an old friend of yours ? Pardon me if I appear boo curious.' •He wae not a friend; he never came till that day, and then he came on business. Hβ is an artist.'

' I know that; I recognised his face ; he is well known in the city. His pictures, such as I have seen, are exquisite.'

Miss Aepinwall was smiling. Her gait and manner wore redolent with joy.

The oignorina, on the contrary, seemed to have weights on her f'eeb. She stumbled once or twice, and her l-estlesa eyes had a sorb of terror in them. Suddenly she asked: • You know his name, then V • Certainly-; it is one thab New York is proud of. Hamilton Degraw. Surely you have heard of it V •Yes. , They were now at the foot of the steps leading up to the huge portico of the great pillared mansion. As the signorina uttered this assent, she looked back. Miss Aspinwall followed her example. ISfo one was visible on lawn or walk. ' He muet be stopping at the next house,' remarked the heires3. ' Curious that we should meet him here and thab he should see us together.' •Curious enough !' echoed the signorina. Bub when she gained the room which had been placed at her disposal and had carefully shut the door and closed the windows, her composure instantly left her fell in what looked like a sudden collapse before a chair, and burying her face in ifc3 cushions, gave a long?, low cry, the language of which it would have been hard to interpret 1 . Then ehe started again to her feet, and opening her trunk, took from it a telegram-blank, upon which sho wrote one line. But before she had signed it, she paused again, and stood so long with it fluttering in her hand thab she might have beeniaken for an exquisite statue of irresolution. Finally she tore up the contemplated telegram, saying as she did so, in the sweetest of musing tones : 'I will not meddle with fate. Leb it bring mo what it will. Its gifts may be better thai) any I have lost, than any I have sought for.' And the troubled brow grew smooth, and the' child-like look came back to the face, and of all the joyous creatures that fluttered beneath the eun that day, she was the brightest, the sweetest and the most delightsome. CHAPTER XVI. A STABTLIHG INTBODUCTION. Miss Aspinwall's hospitality was of the notable order. An orphan without immediate relations, she had cultivated friendship to its last extent, and was consequently never at a loss to fill her house with congenial and delightful companions. This summer she had for chaperon an elderly widow, well-known in New York circles, around whom she had gathered a dozen or more young people of both eexos, so that the house wa3 as merry aa youth and gaiety could make ib. She herself was the balance-wheel to all this mirth and joyousness. Though cheerful by nature, sho had suffered too many griefs, and felt too keenly the responsibilities of wealth, to be ever over-joyous?., Yet there was in her smile so much sympathy with joy, that the lightesb-hearted felt their pleasure grow greater when they drew neai , Hilary Aspin■wall.

Though alive to mirth, she had for sorrow a still greater sympathy. If amonget the laughing tribe that scattered itself over her lawns, or gathered in merry groups about her halls and piazzas, there was one from whose lips the laughter rang false, or in whose eyes a shadow lay deeply hidden, she waa sure to catch the broken tone or mark the secret tear; and though she would make no betrayal of her discernment at the time, when night came she would steal into the presence of the young girl whose grief she had surprised, and, taking the seemingly happy one into her arm, so win her confidence by delicate questions or silent carresses that the brimming heart would overflow, and the secret trouble be told almost without its sufferer's own volition. Ah ! she was a noble woman, Hilary Aepinwall, as many a crushed heart which she has comforted can testify ; and if in the face which Hamilton Degraw calls • A Poet's Dream' there are some idealising touches not to be found in the original, no bruah or no fancy could idealise the soul which has informed that face, for it is itself ideal. •'■% For such a one, happiness should be the natural right. Nothing that the earth contains ia too good for her, nor any love too rich. Is she to have her reward, then ? Are the beet treasures of earth to be given to her who is always heaping treasures in the laps of others ? She has wealth,she has honour, she has friends, she has health. Will she have have love? Let us look at the circle which surrounds her on this exquisite June eve, and see if we can answer this question. She is sitting on the large piazza, amid a group that feel the influence of the starry heavens above them, though they do not look that way, but rathor into the faces of those with wnom they are conversing. The talk is of—what? Who can say? Who would care to repeat? But the looks are for her; thati9, the looks 'of ab least three men who etand there; one against the large pillar that shields the nioonlighb from her eyes, one behind her cH&ir, arid one on the outskirts of the 1 group, who, if he does nob has-another reason for. his modesty than. that of indifference. And to anyone looking ai her row, such interest

would seem only natural. Though the other women grouped around her are none or less fair, attractive or vivacious, in more does the pure lighb of womanliness shine wibh such a radiance as in her, while in her beauty bhere burns a chaste fire which is nob always to be seen there. What has called it forth ? Tho influence i 9 not) fully apparent, ysb ib is felt by these men who study her this nighb wibh their souls in their eves.

" Are her thoughts with them ? The man by the pillar has the air of a satisfied lover ; bub, then, the depths of his purse have never been sounded, and some say thab neither have the depths of his conceit. The others do nob seem as happy, though one of them stands so near to her that he can hear the short sigh that now and then parts her lips. Do bhey miss something from her look or glance that they have been accustomed to see there ?

It may be, for now there is a change in her.. She has heard a step on the gravelled walk beneath, and, mistress as she is of herself, she cannot quite suppress the flutter of expectation which bhab sound provokes. She movea and others move with her, so that there is quite a stir on the piazza as cwo figures emerge from the shadows beneath and pause, one in manly grace and the other in feminine beauty, for a mutual amile or glance, before mounting the broad flight of sbeps. Two ! and she has, perhaps, anticipated but one !

Tho man is Mr Degraw and tho woman Signoriua Valdi, or, as she is now called, Miss Rogers. He has become a frequent guest ab the house and she a recognised inmafeo, but never before have they been observed together. The sight calls up sbrange looks on the faces of bheir youthful companions, and more than one furtive glance is casb ab their fiilenb hostess. Bub her self-possesaion is great and tbere is no lack in the cordiality with which she welcomes the appearance of these two. But when, the first flurry over, they all settle down to renewed conversation in the now brilliantly-lighted parlour, those who love her best feel that something has gone out of hsr manner thab made it the sweetesb and mosb encouraging in fehe world, and one at leasb of the three men who adore her intercepbs more than one of her glances thab steal, despite the pride of the heiress and woman, to the huge window-se&b where site the arbisb beside the singer, so happy and proud that he forgets to hide either his satisfaction or his delight.

As for the signorina, she was in that soft mood of unexpected happiness which makes a woman beautiful, whatever her features. She to whom Nature had given the perfection of grace was so much the more captivating. From the crown of her lovely head, drooping with the woight of untold hopes, to the tip of her dainty foot, she was the incarnation of joy shadowed only by the wonder which, such, joy often brings. Though she did nob speak, much less sing, her whole figure breathed forth music, and one person present heard ib, and heard ib as plainly as if she had walked ab her side a half-hour before, aud listened as spirits lisben, to the vows which the ardent artist had whispered into the beloved one's halfaverted ears. Love, pure and perfect, had breathed across this virgin soul, and a deeper love than hers had noted it and taken a lesgon therefrom, the lesson of pain and patience, generous sympathy and womanly sacrifice. The more disinterested persons in the room had collected about the piano, where one of their number was playing thrilling aira from Gounod. As tile moiody filled tho air, more than one tongue was loosed of bhe secret that burdened ib.

• Do you observe the couple over there ?' one of Miss Aspinwall's lovers—nob the most generous — whispered in her ear. 4 Boy Cupid has been busy wibh one or both of their hearts since wo saw them last. I think I can discover the tip of his wings fluttering in and about between them now. What do you think ?' « Some questions are very hard to answer ; this was meant to be one of them. Bub Misd Aspinwall had the courage of despair and did nob shrink from uttering a smiling response. 'I have nob much acquaintance with the plumage which tho blind god sports, but if the happiness which I ccc thore is from him, I can only say that he chose a noble couple bo bestow ib upon. Mr Degraw i 3 a gifted man, and Mis 3 Rogers is a gifted woman. Why should they not appreciate each other ?'

On the other side of the room the subjecba ot bhese remarks were listening bo the music and whispering short sentences into each other's ears. If Cupid were bhere he heard words which surely had been murmured under his auspices before. Yet they are always new.

1 1 love you, Signorina, I love you, love you ! Do you bhink you can trusb me bo make you happy? I do nob ask you bo answer me at once, only do nob forbid me speaking. You are so beautiful, so beautiful I ,

A soft sigh wae her only reply.

* I know that the timo is short since we were strangors, and I knew nothing of your life or of you.. Bub such a rencontre as brought us first together is equal to a year of common companionship, for in it were both death and life. I loved you when I thought you were dead, and now that I touch you and hear you speak, I am moved by such overwhelming, emotions, that for me there is nothing of interest in the world bub love and our two selves., .

•Ah !' was again the murmured reply. 'Iβ love so sweet ? Does it compensate one for other worldly losses ? I would gladly believe so. Teach me.'

' Will I.not ? Say only that you will not scorn the teacher, and all my life is at your service. I have nob loved before —no, no, proud eignorina, however you may smile', I have never even thought thab I loved before. You are my firsb adoration, and so deep already has the feeling gone, that I aak nothing more from Heaven than your love; nob fame, nob honour,; nob .wealth;" nothing but you, you, you !'

She might have responded • her lips had opened and her eyes had flashed radiantly ; bub before the words could issue from her lips, there was a sudden hush in the music, and more than one whisperer paused and glanced hastily toward the door. A stranger was entering, a remarkable man, in whose tall form and courtly carriage all read gentleman, bub no one a gentleman they knew, nob even the hostess. Who was he ? A dozen eyes asked the inquiry between the instant when he crossed the threshold and that in which he made his bow to the assembled company. Who was he? And the men were as eager as the ladies, for he seemed to have come there with a purpose.' Ib was bub a momenb, but that moment was never forgotten by any one then present in the room. First, because of something they saw in the stranger. This was the sudden and overpowering admiration which he betrayed, as hie gaze passed straight before him to the wide windowseaf and its beautiful occupant. Isob aneye in the room but followed his, to the signorina's evident confusion and growing loveliness, for she -had been caught with the love light on her face, and, perhaps, with a confession on her lips ; and she feared, if she did not know, thab her secret was discovered. The second cause for this momenb becoming memorable lay in the conduct of the hostess. She had taken the card which the servant had broughb her, and was looking ab it with a wonder she found it impossible to disguise. * Excuse nie,' eaid she, advancing to the Btranger with a cordial smile, in which, however, a certain tinge of doubt was visible, 'is this your name which I find written on this card ?'

He started, turned from ihe object which had evidently engrossed - all his thought, and, mads Miss, AspinwaH another low bowt

• Certainly, madam, it is my name,' was his response, uttered in some surprise. ' I have here a letter of introduction from Mr Morris, of Cleveland, which, if you will be kind enough to read, I shall feel more ab home in your presence.' She reached out her lefb hand mechanically, bub her eyee were still fixed upon the small bib of pasteboard eke held in the right. 'You musb pardon me,' she persisted; • but the name on this card is—' She evidently found ib hard to mention ib. She looked across the room, and the colour flashed into her face. The stranger, impressed, if nob embarrased, took up her sentence and finished ib for her. ' The name on that card is mine,' he declared. • Hamilton Degraw. Do you find anything strange in it V (T-> he, Continued.)