IN A JAUNTING CAR.

Auckland Star, Volume XXV, Issue 305, 22 December 1894, Page 2 (Supplement)

IN A JAUNTING CAR.

(By Annie Fellows Johnston.)

IT was a June morning in Cork. Miss Erigga and her nieco had left the rest of their party ab the hotel, to recover from the •ffects of a rough passage, and had started cut alone to explore the quaint old town. Hiss Briggs never needed time to recover. She always rose superior to the depressing influences of travel, and nothing escaped ier eharp, gray eyes, when once they started on a round of sight seeing.

•It is no wonder the Irish take a onesided view of things,' she said in a disapproving tone, a3 she clutched the railing of the jaunting car with a nervons grip. • Talk about home rule for people who don'b know enough to look where they are going, but sit staring off ab right angles from the road—it's absurd!'

She planted her broad soled shoos more firmly against the supporb, and sat so erecb and rigid that she bounced up with overy jolb of the rapidly moving vehicle. The jaunting car rattled along through the crooked streets, and turned into a wide, smooth avonue, whose hawthorn hedges were white with blossoms, and whose wayeide trees covered ib with a cool, deep Bhade. ' Pretby, isn't it ?' Miss Brifrgs remarked to her neice, twisting around uncomfortably in her seat to look ab the young girl on the other side. The latter did nob seem to hear the remark, so deeply was she absorbed in noting, with an artist's quick eye, the bright yellow of tho buttercups shining everywhere in the meadows, and the clear, fresh green of foliage nnd grass. Her hab was pushed back a little, and sho leaned forward .eagerly, her gray gloved hands clasped in her lap, and her dark eyes intent on the scene before her. 'For goodness sake, Emily,' exclaimed her aunt, 'do hold on to something, or you'll fall out of this break-neck invention. I'd" rather walk, bub it's a parb of the programme—gondolas in Venice, canal boats in Holland, rope-ladder* up in the glaciers, and jaunting cara on the 'ould sod.' I don'b want to miss any experiences, or neglect any opportunities.' Emily looked 6Vdr her shoulder wibh a laugh; laid her hand lightly on the railing, and relaxed into sociability. 'Why, auntie, 1 think it's ■ perfectly splendid. One side ab ft time is all a person csh do justice .to* anyhow, when everything is so beautiful.' As they drove back again into the crooked Bbreets, a detachment of soldiers passed. •Look !' dried Emily, wibh girlish enthußiasni, ' there come the redcoats, and oh, there are some highlanders !' A band came nexb f followed by several carriages, while a noisy rabble of hoobing, barefoot children and boisterous men and women straggled after. • Whab is the matter ?' she asked of the driver, who had stopped his horse to leb the Droce?sion pass. • It's O'Brien, miss,' he explained, ' He'll be after spakin' in the Park, the day, and they.'ro fearful of a riot, miss.' The procession was a long one, and they waited several minutes for it to pass. Just aa they started on again, Emily, happening to look across the etreeb, caw a man, evidently a tourist, shutting up a small camera.

• Auntie,' she almost gasped, 'I acbually believe chat man haa been taking a photograph of usi!' Mies Briggs looked quickly, bub they had turned a corner, and he was out of sight. ' Well, it can'i) be helped,' she said laughingly, bub with an indignanb pink flushing up into her cheok?. 'It Bervea us right for making a spectacle of ourselves by gebting into such an outlandish conveyance. We'll take a carriage next time.'

On the following day Miss Briggs cab alone in tho parlor of £ho f lmpqrjal,,Hotel, busily engaged with hor journal. In ib she recorded, with minute exactness, bhe details of thoir voyage, and her first impression of Cork. The room was still,' save for the purring of the hotel cab, curled up sociably around the inkstand, and the vigorous scratching of a new goose quill pen she had found on the table. Hibherto she would have none bub a fine pointed gold pen, and was particular as to the size. Bub in an old fashioned hotel a goose quill pon was a characteristic parb of the traveller's experience, and though ib sputtered and scratched and made alow progress, Miss Briggs felt bhab she could not lay ib aside. While she sab there, Emily entered the room in a brisk and breezy fashion, her hat awry, and her face glowing.

' Look !' she criad breathlessly. ' Here is a sketch I made this afternoon, aunty. 1 did it in sepia. And oh, I've bad such an interesting experience ! We all went up to Shandon churchyard, arid old Mr Lumb took me up in the tower to read the inBcription on the bells. When we came down again, you couldn'b gueas who wag ■standing in the churchyard, by Fabher 'Proub's tomb.'

Misa Briggs held the sketch off ab arm's length, surveying ib critically, and shook her head.

'Well, it was that man who took our picture yesterday. As soon as he saw me, he came directly towards me. He took off his hat with as friendly a smile as if wo had always known each other, and said, 'Pardon me, miss, are you nob the young lady whom I saw yesterday in a jaunting car while the procession was crossing the bridge '!' I was so amazed I did nob know what to say, and he began ab once to apologise and explain. He said he was out: with his camera, taking pictures of interesting types of Irish character, and was abtracted by our*1 coachman's face. Ho paid no attenbion to us until we wore driving away. Then be saw mo, bub did nob notice you particularly. While he was developing the picture thab afternoon, he was clmosb startled, he told me, as your' features gradually appeared on the pluto. He said, • They bear such a striking resemblance to one 1 knew years ago. Will you allow me to ask if bho lady with you was a Miss Briggs? Miss Caroline Brigga?" Emily paused to note the effecb of her words, and Miss Briggs looked up with lively interest depicted on every feature. ' Go on !' she demanded.

* Juab then Mr. Lumb came hurrying up and slapped him on the back, and said, 'Hullo, Fritzie, old boy! Is ib really you?' Ib must have been 'Fritzie, old boy,' for they began talking aboub old times, and forgot my existence ever so long. Then Mr Lumb introduced him— Howe, or Power, or some such name. He's stopping ab our hotel, and is going to join our party till we reach Belfast. 1' Emily. paused to observe the effecb. Miss Briggs opened her mouth as if to say something, pave a little gasp, and closed ib again. • Ibs Frederick Powell!' she declared, wibh an air of conviction. 'I know it! Yes, I knew him fiftoen years ago.' She looked oub of the window a moment as if considering, and then wenb on in her concise, mabter-of-fact way, 'we were to have been married then, but we had a quarrel, and the engagement was broken off. Ib was a good thing. We were both high strung and obstinate, and never could have learned to agree. He married a girl much younger than himself, who never had an opinion of her own, so of course they gob along all right. She died aboub ten years ago. Looked something like you—a little brunette, not quite ao tall.'

Mfss Briggs ■ gave this little bib of personal history as unconcernedly as if she were speaking of the ancient Greeks, and began to gather up her writing material.

Emily looked at her curiously, wondering if there could have been a spark of sentiment in such a severely practical nature. If there had been, she concluded, ib had certainly been extinguished long ago. ' He showed mo the photograph,' said Emily, as they climbed the stairs together. 'It was bad, even for an amateur. Only the back of my head was taken, bub you were in a strong lighb thab made you squint and wrinkle up yonr face, and your feet looked immense.'

When MJaa Briggs wenb downstairs to dinner that evening, she had laid aside her customary gray serge dress, as homely as ib was serviceable, and wore a dark green tailor-made suio. Remembering that Emily had said that her feed looked immense in the photograph she had carefully changed her heavy, broad-eoled boots for dainby low-cut shoes. She stopped a momenb in the hall, hearing a familiar laugh. She remembered that the last time she had heard that voice, it had bidden her goodbye in hob anger. The pink flush tinged her cheeks again, and she smiled to think how long ago that had been. Then she pushed the door ajar, and entered the parlor, where the party had congregated to wait for dinner.

Dr Frederick Powell was standing by a window in animated conversation with Emily. He scarcely noticed her aunt's entrance, so engrossed waa ho with the fair niece. Miss Briggs had been a pretty girl in her day, but the photograph he had taken, and which was still fresh in his mind, was that of a wrinkled, faded woman, careless of attire. He looked up with surprise as she advanced toward them. The brusque independence of manner he had expected to see, judging from the way she had grasped her umbrella and frowned severely upon the crowd around the jaunting car, had given place to a stately dignity. She was one of those women for whom a becoming dross does wonders.

' I am glad to see you !' they both said in the same breath, and shook bands as if the mo3t platonic of friendships had always existed between them.

Miss Briggs was not so well pleased wibh her survey. ' He's getting stout,' 6he thought critically, ' and a trifle bald. He's nob the handsome man he used to be.'

Emily was charmed with Dr. Powell. She found him entertaining and agroeable. He praised her sketches. He told her interesting incidents of his travels in many lands, and amusing anecdotes of his professional life. When tho party wenb sight; fleeing, he was her ccto-a-teto if they rode. When they walked, ho was always at her Bide to carry her sketch book, or hold her umbrella.

Seeing this, Mies Briggs calmly revolved in her solitary orbit-^-a trifle more independent in manner, perhaps, and if possible more outspoken in her radical opinions. Emily tried in vain to porsuade her aunb that the old Berge was too unbecoming for further usefulness. Every morning she pub it on with grim satisfaction of carrying her poinb and looking hor worst. The days went by too fa6t in the old town. Night and morning and noou, they listened to the chiming of the bells in the ivy grown Shandon tower, and then it was night and morning and noon again. Still the little party lingered. One day, after lunch, they started out to make a farewell visit to Blarney Castle. Dr. Powell and Emily gayly led the way in a jaunting car. Several of the party followed on horseback, and the rear was brought up by a light wag'gonotte. Miss Brings rode in this, not being an oxperb horsewoman, and having a mortal antipathy to jaunting cars.

It was a drive none of thorn could ever forget. But by tho time they had reached the castle, the sunshine had faded oat, the landscape was grey and blurred, and the rain began to pour in torrents. There was nothing to do but ait down and waib for it to stop, bub they had grown accustomed to this peculiarity of the weather in Ireland. An old woman came to the door, begging. They tolled her in with a shilling, and she entertained them with gruesome tales of ;fcho banshoas and witches that inhabit, the bat-haunbed rains of Blarney at night. The doctor handed Emily a pencil, and a leaf torn from hie memorandum book, and ahe begin to ekdtch the old peasant, with quick, effective strokes. Miss Briggs sab back in a dim corner, listening carefully, for the woman's brogue was almost unintelligible to her. Twice she glanced up, to find Dr. Powell looking afe her. Presently in a pause of the story telling, he walked over and stood beside hor. ' What does this remind you of, Caroline ?' he asked abruptly. • Nothing !' she answered. ' Why ?'

•It reminds me of a gypsy camp we visited one time. You have not forgotten it>, I hope. It was the last day of August, sixteen years ago, The scene comes back to me very plainly. An old hog; told our fortunes. Somehow you look just as you did thab evening.' He walked over to Emily again. Miss Briggs drew back, a little farther into the dim corner, and listened no more to the legends of Blarney. She heard, instead, the crackling of a camp fire, the stamping of horses tied in the background, the whining tones of the old gypsy who pretended to look into the future, when in reality she had only to look into the faces before her to guesa their fate. Then Bho heard the laughter of the young folks rambling slowly along in tho moonlight behind them. Then the low, earnest voice of ths one beside hor—no! she would not listen ! she would nob recall a single word. Tho old love had lain buried deeply too long for its ghosb to trouble her now ! Sho turned resolutely to the old woman, although ehe couldn't help remembering now and then, thab he had eaid she looked just as she did that nighb— and thab night he bad called her beautiful. ' 1 know that isn'b bo 1' she kept telling herself, to quiet the .little thrill of pleased vanity. 'He's got ah axe bo grind. He wants me to use my influence with Emily.'

It was nearly durk wlien the rain finally stopped, and they started back to fche hotel. There was a shifting of seats. The wagonette led the way, followed by those on horeea, and when Mins Bripgs camo through the gate, Dr Powell was waiting to help her into bho eeafa opposite his, in the hated jaunting car. They drove along in silence some time, before the-doctor remarked uneasily, 'Tho drivers have been drinking. I hope they'll not get us into trouble.' ' I have never been in any kind of an accident,' answered Miss Brigge. ' I have always thought 1 should like to be, jusb tor the experience. Ib must be Buch a novel sensation.'

For a shorb distance they entertained each other by recounting"the most dreadful accidents of which they had ever heard, both on land and sea. They reached the climax at last. They could recall no eupremer horror than had already been related. Jueb then, the half-intoxicated driver, having fallen behind the others, took up his whip and lashed the horse furiously. The frightened animal reared and broke into a run. Now was Miss Brigg's opportunity for a sensation. They were running awayl She gripped the seat firmly and held on with all her might. She would have Btuck on valiantly to the end, had nob the horaa veered suddenly to one side, and then plunged on more madly than before. Both she and the doctor were thrown violently out. When the doctor picked himself up and looked around in a dazed way, sho was standing erect as ever, vigorously brushing the mud from her dress. She had experienced an accident and had come out of it, as she had como oub of everything else, unscathed.

The party on ahead, alarmed at the sight of tho runaway horse dashing past, dispatched Mr Lumb, who was on horseback, to investigate. Aa , they were near town, it was nob long-before ho hadsenb a cab to

the assistance of the victims of the accident.

' Caroline,' said the doctor, as they drove back in the twilight, ' I ,bave always- bean impressed with the rapidity with which the brain acts. Man.thinks at lightning speed.' ' Thab depends onthe man,' Mies Briggs interposed laconically. 1 When we went flying through the air,' he went on, without noticing the interruption, *ib flashed across my mind that I should find you lying stunned and insensible —that I would pick you up tenderly in my arms, and kiss you, ac I once did Jong ago —thab I would claim you for my own again.' ' Well,' she answered, provokingly, ' I suppose the shock of such a fall, to a man of your weight, would naturally bring him to his senses.'

'It was not that,' he said, a little confused and nettled by her cool reply, 'bub the situation was not as romantic as I had imagined—as I hoped ib would bo.'

' You had hoped, then, thafc I should be stunned ?'

• Ob, Caroline,' he remonstrated, 'is there never to be anything bub misunderstandings between us ? ..You must listen to mo, for it is fate thab has brought us across the sea bo find each otner ab last. I was sure of ib when I firsb meb you, although you seemed so stolid and iudiflerenb. Think of the time when we were all in all to each other. I know you are not as heartless as you appear, Caroline, for you looked just like your old self, when I spoke to you at the castle.'

•1 thoughb Emily——' began Miss Briggs. The doctor laughed happily. • No! No ! Emily is not as blind as her annb. She has known what I wanted from tho first. You have nob said no,' he added presently, as they rode on through the darkness, ' and I shall not leb you say it now, You are mine —and a thousand times dearer than when you were the sweetheart of my boyhood.' Ho slipped hiH arm around her, and felb her shaking with supprossed aobs. ' Why, what's the matter ?' he aßked, puzzled ab such an unusual exhibition of feeling.

' I don'b know,' she answered. For MiHs Briggs had meb wibh an experience she could cob fathom. The tender undercurrents of her nature, frozen so long that she doubted their existence, melted as in a F-ebruary thaw, and found vent in tears.

Ab the hotel entrance, they found the drunken driver, awaiting bhem, hab in hnnd. ' I'm sorry bo bo broublin' yez, sorr, bub ther's two shillin' sixpence for bhe journey oub, and two Bhillin' sixponce for the journey back. An' the same shud bo more, for ib broke mo vehicle and lamed my baste.' , ' The doctor smiled down into tho face beside him, where his fond eyas saw blooming again the beauty of girlhood, and said : ' The rascal knows the accident waa all his own fault, bub if it had nob been for him, I might never have found you as I did, in a jaunting car.' He dropped a shower of Bilver pieces into bhe outstretched palm. * Shure an' yore fib for a prince, sorr !' cried bhe man, delighted ut tho unexpected generosity, and shrewdly guessing its cause. ' Good luck to ye an' the swato loddv!'

And as they walked on down the corridor, hia voice followed them, invoking tho blessing of all the saints in his calendar.