A SINGER FROM THE SEA.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIV, Issue 258, 31 October 1893, Page 6

A SINGER FROM THE SEA.

2Y AMELIA E. BABE.

Author of 'The Beads of Ta3mar,' 'Tho Mate of the "Easter Bell,"' 'The Household of McNeil,' ' Friend Olivia,' Etc., Etc., Etc.

CHAPTER V. (Continued.) • Mks Burrell is patting on grand airs ib Beems; so then, ib will go, that peoplo of course will speak ill of her,' said Joan. 'Aw, toy dear,' answered John, 'few are better spoken of than they deaorve.' 11 do think Denas ought to call on the bride,1 said Joan. *Ib would only be iriendly, and many will make a talk about it if she does not go.' • Shß must find out first if the young man be there.' 'No,' said Denas, warmly. 'I will nob find out. If you cannot trust) your little maid, father, then do nob let her go at all. If people could hear you talk, they would say : " What a bad girl John Fenelles has ! He dare not leb her go to see her friend if there be a young man in the house." 'T is a shame ! Isn't it, mother?' •I think ib be, Denas. Father isn't so cruel suspicious a3 that, my dear. Are you, father?' And what could John answer? Though sorely against his feeling and his judgmenb, he wa3 induced to agree that Denas oughb, perhaps, to call once on the bride. There were so many plausible arguments in favour of such a viaib; there was nothing bub shadowy doubts and fears againsb it. 'Go to-morrow, then,' sail John, a little impatiently, * and let me be done with the fret of it.' 'The day after to-morrow —on Wednesday—father. To-morrow ib will bo still raining, no doubt, and I have something to alter in my best dress. I want to look as fine as I can, father.' 'Look like yourself and your people, Denas. That be the best finery. If roses and lilies did grow on the dusby highroad, they would nob be as fitly pretty as bluebells and dasies. I do think that, Denas ; and ib be the very same with women. Burrell Court is a matter of two miles beyond Sb. Penfer. 'Tia a long walk, my dear, and dress for the walk and the weather. Do, my dear.' Then the subject was changed, and Denas, having won her way, was really grateful and disposed to make the evening happy for all. She recollected many a little bit of pleasanbry ; she mimicked Priscilla to admiration, merrily and without ill-will, and then she took the storypaper and read a thrilling account of some great shipwrecks and a poem that seemed to John's and Joan's simple minds ' the sweetest bit of word-music ' that could be.

At the same hour Elizabeth and Roland were playing an identical role, with differenb circumstances. Poland had hoped to slip away to hia room, unobserved. Ho knew Miss Burrell had gone to a friend's house for a day or two. nnd ho thought Boberfc and Elizabeth would be sufficiently occupied with each other. But some gontiemen were with Robert on parish business, and Elizabeth was alono and well inclined to come to an understanding wifch her brother. ' Caroline had to go without an ascorb, Roland. It was too bad,1 she said reproachfully, as she stood in the open door of a parlour and waited for his approach. • You see I sm wot through, Elizabeth. 1 will change my clothing and come to you. Where is Robert?5 ' With the churchwardens. I want to talk to yon, seriously. Wo shall be alono for an hour. Come as soon as you can.' - 'In five minutes. Ib will bo delightful to have you all to myself once mote.' He came back quickly and placed hia chair close to hers, and lifted her faco to his face and kissed her, paying fondly : • My dear little sister !' ' Where have you been, Roland ?' • I could have bet on the words : " Where bave you been ?" That is always a woman's first question.' • • Have you beon with Denaa ?' ' I have been at the Black Lion and at _ Tremaine's. We will suppose that I wished to see Denas. la thia pouring rain a fit condition ? Do think of something more likely, Elizabeth.' 'Say to me plainly : 'I have not seen Denas.' 'If you wish me to say tho words, conBider that I havo done so. Why have you taken a dislike to Denas ? You used to bo very fond of her.' '1 have not taken any dislike to the girl. I have simply passed out of the season of liking' her. In the early springl wo find tho violet charming, but when summer comes we forget the violob in the rose and the lily and the garden full of richer flowers. Tho time for Denas hay passed ; that is all, Roland. What are you going to do about Caroline ? When will you ask her to marry you ?' 'I havo asked her twice already ; once in Rome, when she put mo off, and again in London, when she decidedly refused me.' • What did she say: 'That she believed that she could trust herself to my love,. because fihe did not think I would bo unkind to any woman ; bub she was sure she could nob trust me with her fortune, becauso I would waste it withoub any intention of being wasteful. Caroline wants a financier, not a lover.' 'The idea!' 'She talked about; tho responsibilities of wealth—' 'How could sho talk to you in that way?' 'She dirj, really.' ' Then Caroline is out of reckoning.' •Between ourselves, I think she was right, Elizabeth. lam positive I should upend any sum of money. Whet I need is a wife who can make money week by week, year by year; always something coming in, like an opera singer, for instance. Do you understand ?' •Could ynn expect; me to understand Buch nonsenso? I asked Robert to-day about poor father's estate. lie thinks there may be four or five hundred pounds " after paying all debts. Of coui-po you will receive it all. Robert is very kind, bub I can see that he would prefer that you were not always at the Court.' ' I dare say ho pub Caroline up to refuse me.' • I have no donbt of ib. Ho would coneider it a brotherly duty ; and, to tell tho truth, Roland, I fear you would givo any woman lots of hoart-ache. I cannob tell what musb bo done. You have had so many good business chances and yob nover made anything of them.' 'Thab is true, Elizabeth. If I take to business, it fails. If I dream of Rome .'lne prospect, the dream does not come true. In fact, my doar sister : * "I never Imrl a piecn of'toast Particularly lonrr and wide. But it feH upon tho sanded door. And always on ihc buUerod aide.' " 1 Still bharc- is one thing I can do, when all else fails—l can take tho Queen's shilling and go in for giorv-' • Koiaml, you break :ny heart, vtkii your folly. Why will you noS bo reasonable? How r:ouid I over show u;v face if you were a common soldior 1 Bu !;■ th* army is a good thought. Suppose you do try the army. I d&re say Rf-hort can ger 50:1 acotamiaaion—ab tho right rime, of coarse." 'Thanks ! 2 dsnoOthink fehoarmy vrouia earee with :co : no*, as any rate, anfii I had playod my laaV «rd. And, « 1 have to\ zaake a hvo o? mwlf, I shall certainly; nrafei tbr- owtfdon o? * fan private, «.S wj ■ Site ;«iv»y.i« tl»*s to ttos Rl«ry hxaaaw. I

would join the army as Private Smith, for though : * "Some talk of Alexander, And some of Hercules, And of many a great commander As glorious as these. If you want to know a hero Of genuine pluck and pith, It's perfectly clear that none come near Tile full British private. Smith.'" And he declaimed his mock-heroics so delightfully thab Elizabeth " nob only succumbed bo his charm, bat also wondered in her hearb why every one else did nob. ' You see, sweefc sister, that wealth is nob exactly the same thing as shining virtue ; or else Caroline would have been generous. I am sure I would be particularly grateful to any woman who made me rich.' ' Why, "woman," Roland ?' ' Well, because, if a man puts any money in my way, he expects me to work for it and with it, to invest ib and double it, to give an account of it, to sacrifice myself, body and soul, for ib. Bub a dear little darling woman jvould never ask me questions, and never worry me about interests. She would bake love and kisses as full value received— unless she were a girl like Caroline ; an unwomanly, mercenary, pracbical, matter-of-money creature.' ' Do not talk in that way of Caroline.' 'I am talking of her money, and ib is no impeachment of its value, to say thab it is mortal like herself. Still, I am ready to acknowledge: ' "How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho ! How pleasant it is to have money !" and as much of it as possible, Elizabeth.' • We come to no definite results by talking in this way, Roland. When you get to singing snatches of songp, I may as well be quiet. And yeb I am so unhappy aboub you ! Oh, Roland ! Roland ! My dear, dear brother, whab can I do for you ?' She covered her face with her hands, and Roland took them away with gentle force. ' Elizabeth, do not cry for me. lam nob worth a tear. Darling, I will do anything you want mo to do.' 1 If I get Robert to give you a desk in the bank—' ' Well, lovo anything bub that. I really cannot bear the confinement. I should die of consumption. Besides, I havo a moral weakness, Elizabeth, thab I am bound to consider. Thero are times, dear, when I get awfully.mixed and cannot help— " Confounding the difference 'twixb meum and timm, . . By kindly converting it all into suum." ' ' Oh, Roland, I really do not know what yon are h'b for.' ' if I had been born three or four centuries ago, I could have been a knighterrant or a troubadour. But, nla?, in these days, the knights-errant go to the stock exchange and. the troubadours write lor the newspapers. I am not fit to wrestle with the wild beasts of the money market. I would rather go to Spain and bo a matador.' ' Roland, here comes Roberb. tDo try to talk like a man of ordinary intelligence. Robert wants to like you—wantß to help you—if you will let him,' ' Yes, in his way. I want to be helped in my own way. Cood evening, Robert, I am g.'ad you vvcro nob caught in the rainstorm.' The grave face brightened to the charm of the young man ; and then, for an hour, Roland delighted his sister by his sensible consideration, by his patient attention to some uninteresting details, by his prudence in speaking of the future. So that Roberb said confidentially to his wife that night: ' Roland is a delightful young man. There must bo some niche he can fill with honour. I wonder thab Caroline could resist hi* attention?. Yet she told me to-day thab she has refused him twice' ' Carolina is moved by her inbellect, not by her heart. Also, ehe ia very Vere-de-Verish, and she has set her mark for a lord, ab least.' ' ' What can be done for Roland V ' He talked of going into the army.' ' Nonsense ! Roland going into the army means, for him, going into every possibles temptation and expense. That would not do. But he ought to be away from this little town. He will bo making mischief if he caniiot find ie ready-made.' 'I am very uneasy about that girl from the fishing-village—the girl whom I used to havo with me a great deal.' ' Denas—the girl with the wonderful voice ?' • Yes. Did you think her voice wonderful?' 1 Perhaps I should say " haunting voice." She had, certainly, some unusual gift. I do not pretend to ba able to define it. But I remember evory line of the first measure I heard her sing, ilany a time since, I have thought my soul was singing it, for its own pleasure, without caring whether I liked it or not; for when mentally reckoning up a transaction, I have heard quite distinctly the rhythmical, rolling cadence, like seawave?, to which the words were set. I hear it now.' 'Upon my word, Robert, you are very complimentary to Denaa, I shall be jealous, my dear.' ' Nob complimentary to Denas ab all.' I hardly remember what the girl looked like. And it is nob worth while boirifr jealous of a voice, for I can assure you, Elizabeth, a haunting pong is a most unwelcome visitor when your brain is full of figures. And, somehow, it generally managed to come at a time when the bank and the street were both in a tumult with the sound of men's voices, tho roll of wagons and the tramp of horses' foeb.' 1A sang of the sea in the roar of the city. How strange !I am curious to hear it. 1 have forgotten mo3b of the songs Donas sang.' 'The roar *of tho city appeared to provoke ifc. When it was loudest, I usually heard most clearly the sweeb, thrilling echo, asking: '"What is the talc of the sea, mother? What is the t;ilo of the wide, wide sea?" "Merry and sad lire the tales, my darling. Merry and sad as tales may be Those ships that sail in this happy mornings, Full of tho lives and the souls of men. Some will never comeback, my darlintf, Some will never come back again!"' And as Elizabeth listened to hor husband half-singing the charmful words, ehe took a sudden dislike to Denas. Bub she said : • The song ia a lovely song, and I muet send for Denaa to sing ib for us again.' In her heart she resolved never to send for Denas. ' Though, if she dooa come—' and at this point Elizabeth hold herself in pause for a minute ere sho decided resolutely—'if she does come, I will do what is right. I will be kind bo her. She cannot help her witching voice—only—only—l must step between her and Roland—that is for tho good of both.' And sho fell asleep, planning for this emergency.

(To le Continued.)