LUCKY YOUNG WOMAN!

Auckland Star, Volume XLII, Issue 137, 10 June 1911, Page 15

LUCKY YOUNG WOMAN!

By F. C. PHILIPS.

:EAPTER XlX.—(Continued.) , iea they reached that part of the where the Cecilia was lying, Marcia the Fraulein had a succession of iishnients. There is nothing so be■rjno to any one who sees it for as the exquisite order and v perfection of a yacht in which a-ner takes a pride, and can afford atii'y his whim. j little gangway was thrown out, j they found themselves on a deck j ■ had that ni'irning been religiously ' noned till it shone like polished ie t. The sails and ropes were essly clean, the masts had just scraped, and the funnel repainted. ' irass nails and the binnacle were a3; ,'tly in order as if they were costly j im'ents from an optician's window. I ■ was a small deck cargo of coal I kite canvas sacks, with leather |

3 and handles. There was the louse with its plate-glass windows ,-elvet fittings and spring-blinds, ■n, of course they had to see the i. and to look down the comn into the engine-room, where they see machinery as scrupulously as if it were part of some gigantic i which a grain of dust might throw f gear. On the deck were the deal P. and 0. lounges with their doing duty for small tables. The was covered up in white canvas, lurid it. and upon the roof of the louse, and here and there on stands it the bulwarks, the sailing-master anged flowers in pots: bright red rams contrasted with the yellow laria and the deliciously-scented

r went forward to inspect the .as. and when they turned and their way hack to the deck-house, ward, radiant in navy blue, gilt is. and white waistcoat, stood at jor wherein he had arranged a banquet that might have satisfied msorship of Bignon himself—hot-

fruits, prawns, potted meats, lagne in ice. quaint sweetmeats i the centre of the small table an ous fountain that spurted up a et of rosewater into a basin filled mt flowers. s a solemn fact, but not to my at all a painful or even an unrit one. that women, especially the of women whom men like and deserve that mcii should like are as fond of the nice things this world as is an Eton boy, or even an ecclesiastical iry of high position. 1 could give is for this. Men always celebrate occasion with a big feed. When make a coup they usually invite riends to dinner. But a big dinner self, and without an occasion to t sufficient reason, bores them. ;he best clubs in London men who Ford themselves every luxury habidine off a little soup and fish, the if the hour, with mashed potatoes pint of wine. If my Lord Steyne . Goldmore the banker were to go ne of his clubs and order himself ncr of four or five courses, the •s would mention the matter to one r, and would all wonder whether I ng had. gone WTong with him. ] a woman is gourmet by her very .. Adam would never have wanted ng better than a plain potato. It ye who beguiled him with a Eibppin. Marcia and the Fraulein were, vomen after all, and the steward Cecilia felt a proud man when he ow his efforts were appreciated. A and ices over there was a new ■c. For instead of the gangway run out to the pier, a companion >wer on the waterside, and at her iy the long-boat, with four blue=on the thwarts and the sailing:in the stern-sheets, boat herself was as marvellously ;te as the yacht, and in her they ■ith a quick stroke out of the harlouth, past the lighthouse and the pier, and so dashed along the until they reached the Casino itrh c crew of the Cecilia were picked nd the little craft darted through iter and brought up at the Casino :hat finish, down to the minutest which is the perfection of seaman-

that is Lord Norwich," said the

in to Marcia, when that young lan had bade them goo-i-bye at ioor. "So that is Lord Norwich. . can only say that I have the best i of him. and that I cannot conite you, my dear Marcia, upon the ou have treated him."

! has no reason to complain of any tment on my part. Fraulein

rhaps not. But can't you see how

es you? Why, my dear, that man go to his death "for you. Surely ■erves something in return." yish you would not talk about it,

ut It is not an agreeable subject : • I am very sorry for Lord Nor- • ihe has set his mind upon mc. 1 , however, think that at all likely. old you, w e had a thorough under- ; ng at St. Austell's Towers, and I nfident that he regards the matter : cm c light as I do." ■d I am confident that he does ; you are right, Fraulein, it i s not alt I cannot help it if I am un- : 0 reciprocate his affection. You ■ not have mc marry without caring : un. That is, without earing for 5 1 ought to. And 1 hate the idea ; mage. I don't want to marry Be/ " - »v are an extraordinary girl, Mar- . STiv, that man would make you ; le delirium of happiness. He" is j ihe is noble, he is honest, he is I I °mc, and be is rich. What in \i ns name more do you want':" ii JU don't understand my dear Frau l - J! ), my dear, I do not." i CHAPTER XX. ' ly next morning they started for s. Lord Norwich had a habit aptly : , bed by vulgar Englishmen in a , eof three words. He liked to do iwelL Aristotle, in the profoundest ■ se on moral philosophy that the ', has ever yet had from an unin- j • Pen, exalts this art of doing things . or as they ought to be done! to the ', °* a high moral virtue. r °U are a poor man. he says, you', etter not ask your friends to dinner . • They will quite understand your ' j eat negligence, and sympathise "with , Bit if you are to ask them to - r > you must eive them an enter- i', len t that does credit to yourself,', 13 a compliment to them. " I, j"°n overdo the thing, you are purse j ] If you attempt it and fail, you I : 1 snob, like Thackeray's poor dear |. r roato. You must take the middle • e--the aurea mediocritas of Horace. a -Norwich was a gentleman—which ** than being a nobleman. ;

, He hunted all over Dieppe, and actually got together a very serviceable team of Normandy greys and a presentable English coach. Inside he stowed the lunch, or rather had it stowed. On the backseats were his steward and one or two of the crew held deserving of an outing. You can never have too many sailors about you. Apparently the most inj dolent of men, they are in reality the j most brisk and active. j Marcia and Lord Norwich had the . box. Behind them was the Fraulein with the yacht's captain, who respectfully perc-hed himself at the extreme edge of the seat, where he sat in silence with ' his feet hanging over the road, and looking for all the world like a mastj headed middy of somewhat advanced age. I Dieppe turned out to see the English I Milord who steered his own yacht, and I could drive his own four-in-hand. The

Xormandy people are sympathetic. It .does them good to see others happy. The veterans among them did not approve of the start. They 3ia.d expected that Lord Norwich would distribute a few oaths all round as from an arrosoir, crack his whip till he woke the echoes, and start at a full gallop. Instead of all this he started at a slow trot, keeping his team well together. So they voted the thing tame, and sagely remarked to one another that he did not take a proper pride in himself. It is a pretty journey from Dieppe to Argues. Probably niost of my readers know it. They rattled along past rich meadows where the cattle stood knee-deep ia grass. *nd over quaint bridges beneath which trout-streams

pleasantly rippled: and the villagers turned out to look at them, and the men at work by the roadside and in the fields shaded their eyes with their hands, and stopped to gaze; and so at last they clattered merrily into Argues itsell, and pulled up in the most approved fashion before the leading inn in that historical village.

_ The horses -were taken out. and the Kttle village crowd dispersed. Then came lunch, and after lunch was over, Marcia, accompanied by Lord Norwich and the Fraulein, proceeded at once to her usual position, and, without a moment's delay, recommenced her work. The Fraulein produced some complicated knitting. Lord Norwich thrust his hands into his pockets and looked on. Now it so happened that on that particular day the sun had, as on every other day, its accustomed apparent motion. The Fraulein, whose blood had circulated more quickly when she was younger, shifted her position with the sun, and at last was fairly out of earshot. Marcia went on painting. Lord Norwich went on looking over her shoulder. It was a lovely day; but his lordship did not seem to feel his way to say as much. The picture was a 'remarkably good one. But then if he had ventured on that observation, it would have looked as if he were paying the ordinary stereotyped compliment. Of painting in its technicalities he was as profoundly ignorant as of a cat's cradle or the deferential calculus. At last. however, to tell the story in his own words, he began to pull himself together. " I think I shall like this picture, Miss Conyers, even better than your Academy one. May I ask permission, so to say, to become the owner of it now?" "Of course you may, if you like. But I must finish it first. And then 1 must ask you to let it be exhibited. And we must be horribly mercenary over the matter, and get somebody" to fix the proper price for us—somebody who doesn't care a bit, one way or" the other, but will give us what is" called the auction value. You see lam getting learned in all the minor mysteries of my art. I suppose some hundred or so views of Argues are painted every season, and mine will be one among them." Then she stopped and laughed. " 1 won't sell it at all. Lord Norwich. I will be as obstinate as that vicious old Turner, or that horrible Sybil with her books. Let mc finish the picture in my own way. and you shall have it. I like it. I have been very happy over it for many hours, and I simply refuse to sell it at all." 1 And then she began to fill in some clusters of wallflower and stock on one ;of the crumbling towers. This little work of detail required a number of colours, so that she had to consult her palette very closely. Lord Norwich was silent foT a moment. He looked at the picture. Then he looked at his boots. Apparently he found some inspiration in them, for he drew a long breath and began to speak. " I wish you would giv c mc the picture, Miss Conyers. Would you make mc just the very happiest man in the world. Only what I want is—l mean 1 wish —that is to say. I want you to give mc something else along with it. I don't want to give you pain, or even to trouble you. I know what worry you must have had these last few months. And I am afraid that I am troubling you. 1 would sooner be off at once for the North Pole, or the Fiji Islands. But do let mc ask you to give mc the picture and yourself as well. I can't say anything more, and it's very difficult to say this. But if you could only just give mc the idea that I had some sort of a chance —only a chance —I would wait any time. It's no use writing about these kind of things. Can't you tell mc that there is some kind of hope for mc? I shall be content if it is ever so indistinct. Say that, and I will stop here, or I will go away, or I will do anything you tell ine to do. 1 feel it's no good going on. But I do assure you, Miss Conyers. you can make mc. I could do something worth doing with you to guide mc. and up to now I can't help feeling that my life has been wasted. I have had heaps of opportunities, and I have nothing to show for them. But I could try to be worthy of you, and I would

try, with all my heart and soul." Marcia laid "down her brush, which until now she had kept in her hand, and clasped her knees. Then, after a few* seconds of silence, she found word. - I cannot do what you ask mc, Lord Norwich; it would not be right. Nor would it be fair to you if I did. I never had a brother, and you seem to mc, and j always have seemed, more like a brother j than" anvthiwr else. But I cannot say more than that. The world is large, and j time is long. There are some things that ! are secrets to oneself. I cannot tell you my secrets. They are not many. But I do not mind telling you what I expect to do. I mean to go on quietly with my work, exactly as if nothing had ever passed between us. And I am very, very grateful to you. because I know you have been speaking the truth. And if ever it lies in my power to show my gratitude, rest assured that you will not find mc unmindful of all your kindness. I shall always look on you and on my dear Fraulein a's my two best friends—indeed, j almost my only friends. For I am notj

likely to make others. Look! The sun is setting, and the colours are all becoming purple grey. You must help mc to pack up, Lord Norwich. There is nothing more to be done to-day, or said." So they packed up, and the easel and painting implements, and the picture itself, securely fastened into the deal-box, were deposited for the night with the old lady at the castle, who acted as their custodian ; and then they strolled down the hill into the village.

At the door of the little inn the horses were tossing their heads and pawing their feet in anxiety to get back; and it was hardly a minute before they were rattling merrily along the really beautifully road.

Lord Norwich drove his best, and the great iron-grey Normandy horses, although unaccustomed to the touch of an English hand, felt at once they had got their master. At Mareia's door all three got down, and there was a minute or two devoted to the intecrhange of pleasant farewells. Then the vehicle lumbered off to its stables, the two women with a final shake of the hand went into their house, and Lord Norwich, pausing to light a cigar, strode down towards the Hotel Royal.

He scarcely tasted a morsel of the excellent dinner provided for him at that establishment, and paying his bill, made his way to the harbour. On board the yacht he impatiently threw off his clothes and tumbled into his cot. The cabin-lamp shed a soft mellow light over the chamber and everything was hushed except the slight splash of the water in the harbour. Now and then someone from shore would hail a vessel, or the silence would be broken by the. shriek of a gull soaring overhead, or by the measured pulse of oars. But beyond this al] was still, and Lord Norwich lay in his cot and occupied himself with thinking things over.

Certainly Marcia did not dislike him. That, his own common sense could tell him without any vanity. He was equally sure that she perfectly believed all he had said. If so. then why on earth should she not marry him ? And the more he considered this question, the more difficult he found it to arrive at any practical and satisfactory solution of it.

Nine men out of ten would have resolved to give the whole matter up then and there, and to let the young lady go her own way. Lord Norwich happened to be the tenth man. and he made up his mind to see the thing out. and he knew thoroughly what it all meant. But he determined to choose his own time, and he fully decided to leave Dieppe at once.

All Englishmen are obstinate, and he was. most certainly, no exception to the general rule. "There is time to spare, anyhow." he said to himself, "and there is a good deal of virtue in time. 'Time and T against any two,' Napoleon used to say. We will seewhat the old gentleman can do for mc. There is no other fellow in the case. lam sure. If there is. why should she not marry him at once? And if there is no one else, my chance may very likely get the better for a little keeping. At all events the prize is worth a waiting game." And this concise summary of the situation his lordship emphasised with a little strong language, after which he turned round in his cot and fell asleep as soundly as any young man need.

Marcia. on her part, had a few words— actually a few words—with the Fraulein.

That excellent lady thought Marcia very foolish, obstinate, and full of false pride, and did not scruple to tell her so. Marcia was of opinion that the matter was one in which she had a right to judge for herself. The Fraulein opined that nobody was infallible in this world, and that it was always better to listen to reason. Marcia retorted that she intended to live her own life, that she would not sacrifice it for anybody, that she had considerable respect for Lord Norwich; but that things were best as they were, and that the world as a whole would get on a deal better if people would not take it upon themselves to interfere with the affairs of others, and attempt to guide their destinies when they were wholly inadequate to the task.

The Fraulein, with the most aggravating assumption of weakness, replied that she had not the least intention for a moment of presuming to play the part of Providence to Marcia, who no doubt was perfectly equal to the task of managing her own affairs. It was Lord Norwhich in whom the Fraulein was interested; he was very good; he was warmhearted; he was thoroughly sincere. He was just, fearless, generous, good-natur-ed almost to a fault, and she was sorry for him.

"You plead his cause so eloquently, my dear F.Taufleiri" Marcia snapped out, "that it is a pity you do not marry him yourself."

This, of course, was rude and wrong. Fraulein Lietz took up her ;andle and lit it.

"I repeat, Marcia. that you are not yourself in this matter. For the first time in my life 1 see you thinking nothing of other people. The happiness of Lord Norwich is just as important a matter as your own, and you have no right whatever to treat it lightly or recklessly. I shall begin to think that after all" you want to pivot the world round yourself: and I should be very sorry to have to believe that of you." Having discharged fthis volfey, the Fraulein felt her courage fail her, and she made a precipitate retreat to her own room. Marcia was too tired with all that had taken place in the day to indulge herself with any more thinking. "It is no good," she said to herself, ''turning matters over when you have 'thoroughly made up your own mind." And with this reflection she blew out her candle. The reflection was a sound one. so far as it went. But. like all such general statements, it needed modification. For, in the first place, it was extremely doubtful whether Marcia really had made up her mind, or whether she was only under the impression that she had done so. which is of course, a very different thing. And. in the second place, as the Fraulein had said, we are none of us infallible, and it does not follow because we have thoroughly made up our minds that it is not sometimes as well to reconsider the matter. As for mere trifles, it is best, of course, to dispose of them for once and for all.

and then to rank them inexorably with the things which had been. But the very reason for acting in this way is in itself a proof that great matters are not to be decided in a moment. We toss the little trifles out of the way in order that our mind may be free to concentrate itself upon large matters. To omnipotence and omniscience, no doubt, the hairs of our head are numbered. But man. has other matters to think of than the number of his hairs. There came one day to Confuicuis a young mandarin who asked him if he knew the number of the stars. Confucius replied that he troubled himself with things that were nearer to him than the stars. Upon this the young gentleman politely expressed his desire to be informed how many hairs were in Confucius's pigtail. Hereat the sage lost patience, and answered angrily that he neither knew nor cared. Xext morning, almost as soon as the sun was up. Lord Norwich swung himself out of his cot and set to work on a letter to Marcia. A letter is often

a most troublesome thing. Solicitors, and others—let mc say—men of business, are perfectly aware of this. If they want to keep you waiting off and on, to suit their purposes, they always say, "Write mc a letter, and set out your views and wishes fully." As a rule, the client is hopelessly unequal to this task. If he is equal to it, and sends a business-like letter saying exactly what he wants, and upon what terms he is willing to have it done, he gets a reply to the effect that "his favour is duly to hand, and shall have immediate consideration."

It has been said that it takes an honest man to write a good letter; anyhow, the converse of the proposition is usually true. Here is Lord Norwich's letter to Marcia:

"Dear -Miss Conyers,—l deeply regret your determination, but will not now, at any rate, attempt to argue it with you.

"I shall not change my own mind, as time will show you. There are many years yet to come, and things do not always turn out either as we wish or as we expect.

"I shall sail to-day for the north— Scotland or Norway, as the wind may suit —and as 1 want to make sure that this reaches you, my sailing-master brings it.

"We shall be certain to meet again, and it is a sincere pleasure added to )Us. to know (that Sve {dutfll always do so a.s true friends. Beyond this always consider mc as a brother, if you should need a brother's services. Fortunately the tide is making, or I might be tempted to write more. "Kindest regards to Fraulein Diet?., "Always your most sincere friend, "NORWICH." The sailing-master took the letter up, and, pursuant to instructions, waited until he was assured that Miss Conyers had got it, his orders being that it needed no answer. Then he reported himself on board, and steam was up in no time, and the hawsers were east off, and the Cecilia glided out of the old harbour, with the white ensign of the Squadron at her stern. The last that Marcia saw of her through her glasses was a thin streak of smoke on the blue horizon.

Next day Marcia went as usual to Argues with the Fraulein, but the picture somehow did not get on as well as usual. It was a bad day for colour; and I am a little afraid that Marcia and Miss Dietz had some sort of difference of opinion, which unsympathetic and coarse-minded people might almost have termed a row.

Lord Norwich, on his part, cursed his luck, and made a solemn resolution to dismiss the whole matter from his mind for the present, having done which he thought of nothing else for the remainder of the day and. in fact could hardly keep himself from turning the Cecilia's nose, back again to Dieppe.

The Greeks of old called night the kindly one; and he was not sorry when night came.

"After all," he said. "I suppose there is some one thing or other which every fellow wants to make him happy, and which his hard luck has put beyond his reach. Who the devil am I that 1 should be any exception to the rule? It's hard, though, all the same.'' Many men, with an immense reputation for philosophy, could not have summed up the situation so concisely. (To be contined nexj Saturday.)