A LUCKY YOUNG WOMAN.

Auckland Star, Volume XLII, Issue 167, 15 July 1911, Page 16

A LUCKY YOUNG WOMAN.

By F. C. PHILIPS.

CHAPTER XXVI. Marcia meantime had been working at .her commission with almost mechanical industry. It -would have been mechanical indeed, had it not been servant to the genius of art. It is but seldom that genius and industry are combined. And the man who measures out to himself a given amount of work to be done in each day is in shrewd danger of becoming what the Falstaff of the "Merry Wives of Windsor" terms a "mechanical gait 'butter rogue." I say the Faletaff of the "Merry Wives of Windsor"—a very different person indeed from the other Falstaff with which he is so often confounded. The cottage which they chose in preference to a suite of rooms at Ullswater Tark was charming. So far as nature went without assistance from man, Wordsworth might have been content with it. Man had added a good deal in the way of solid material comfort. The furniture was modern. The doors and windows were air-tight. The disused pump had been padlocked up, and was replaced by a miniature ATtesian well For my own choice I am not at all sure that I should not haye preferred, as Marcia and the Fraulein did, the cottage to the castle. If you could have put the building upon "wheels, and transferred it with its tiny entourage to within the fifteen miles' radius of Charing Cross, dukos themselves would have been found bidding fancy prices for it. Honeysuckle climbing up the walls; above the honeysuckle the nests of martens. A small conservatory in the little patch of garden, with every novelty in the way of heating apparatus, so that even orchids flourished. Opposite this tropical house in minatura an old wall with apricot trees, and under these, fertile beds of strawberries. A little rosary, a little kitchen garden, a little tank with gold fish and water-plants. Everything was complete down to the model cow-house, with a gem of an Alderney cow, not much bigger than a St. Bernard mastiff, and far more tractable. "If this is what comes of aA," observed Marcia, "I am satisfied for myself that art pursued under average chances is a far preferable career to politics, or medicine, or law, or anything else; and I, for one, shall sturdily decline henceforth to join in any movement for my own emancipation." "It is not dvery girl who can paint," answered the Fraulein, "any more than it is everyone who can govern, or even fight. Meantime, Marcia, we are well off. You prove yourself as industrious as you- always are, and I, for my part, will promise to give you no trouble. I am getting old, and it is pleasant to have some sort of an idea of the kind of place which is reserved for a used-up German old maid, when she becomes an encumbrance down here." The i pigeons began to cluster round a quaint little tower, which was a toolshed on its ground floor, a seed-house above; higher still a clock-tower, and above that again a. dove-cot. The bees were crowding into their hives as hurriedly and noisily for their size as sol- • diers into barracks, or swallows into the osier-beds. The mist was beginning to hang on the surface of the surrounding meadows. It was clearly time for close shutters and drawn curtains. So Marcia and the Fraulein agreed. One half the world, we are told, knows not how the other half live. Certainly one half the world knows not how the other half enjoys itself. I do not in the present case intend at all to follow in detail the progress of the Ullswater series. Suffice to say that the work went on cheerily, and that after about three weeks his Grace came down himself, and was pleased to express himself more than satisfied. The Duke was a tall, fine old man, who could still ride well to hounds, and who, when young, must have been striking, if not exactly handsome. As an attache he had learnt the art of compliment without flattery, and so contrived to impress Marcia very favourably. He told her that she had opened his eyes to the beauties of his own place. It had come to him as a matter of course by descent, and so having always regarded it as his own in posse or in esse, ho had never felt for It that admiration which Rochefoucauld (was it not?) had declared to be impossible without a certain amount of envy and jealousy. He was ashamed of himself for not coming oftener to Westmorland and stopping there longer. There was no excuse for an absentee landlord whose place had beauties in it such as Miss Conyers had discovered. He must console himself with the reflection that genius could see at a glance that thing to which ordinary eyes were dim or totally blind. And with these and many other stately expressions of his approval, his Grace was pleased to take his departure. Under all this courtly talk there ran a little golden thread of kindliness, for next morning no less a person than the estates' steward himself rode round with a letter, which he explained he had been instructed to deliver in person, that Miss Conyers might be saved the trouble of a reply. It contained a cheque for a thousand guineas, and was to the effect thnt his Grace hoped Miss Conyers would consider the cottage to be at her disposal any time, upon notice to his steward of her intentions. The Duke added that he felt really grateful to Mr Moss, through whose instrumentality he had been enabled to secure what he intended to make an. heirloom in his family. Tliv steward. n stately jrentleman, accompanied by his own paid groom, having delivered this highly satisfactory communication, trotted away in a manner and with a bearing which implied that he diid not every day carry letters oven for a Duke, but that the present occasion was wholly exceptional. He also looked critically at the scenery round about him, as if he were being consulted over its merits. In reality, havung finished his mission, he was speculating upon some complicated problems of subeoil drainage. Mareia took the steward's message—. whether it was so intended or not—as a hint, and did not, as she could have wished to do, write a letter of thanks. But she continued her work with a w ; ll that astonished even Miss Dietz. She completed her task to her own satisfaction, which for her was a thing very far from usual. And then good-bye was bidden to the noble castle and the pleasant little cottage; and Marcia and the Fraulein found themselves in a comfortable reserved carriage, rapidly rolling back to London.

Even in England a long railway journey is comfortable, with a moderate supply of the necessaries of life and a small assortment oi magazines and papers.

The little house in Old Chelsea never seemed pleasanter. For a good week they abandoned themselves to a sort or busy idleness, shopping in the morning, and dining at a restaurant, and in the evening the theatre. Then came the question of what should next he done. It was the beginning of October. London was virtually empty, dull, and haunted with the east wind.

"We must go somewhere or other," said Marcia. "We can very well afford it, and what 5s more, we deserve it."

"I don't care where we go, my dear," replied the Fraulein. "But I quite agree with you that it would be nice to go somewhere. Besides, our little place here costs nothing while we are away beyond the rent and the taxes."

"Wo have not yet seen the Mediterranean," continued Marcda. "Let us wait quietly till December, and have a regular tour. If I had a map at hand we could mark it out with the compasses. ■Really there is an infinitude of choice, and we had better leave ourselves more or less free. Suppose we begin with the Riviera. Then if we like we can try Home. Xor do I see any reason in the nature of things why we should not even venture on the Levant itself."

"As you please, my dear," said the Fraulein. "All places are alike to mc. For they are all new, and if I have you with mc I cannot possibly .be dull."

"You are a dear old sibyl," laughed Mareia. "I don't believe you are German at all. You are directly descended from the old lady of Cumae; and perhaps through her from the witch of Endor. Leave things to mc. We will start a« agreed, and our first restingplace shall be Nice. Venice I don't think I care about. When we are safely at Nice, we will put on the considering cap, and, as sailors Bay, whistle for a wind."

The first week of December found them at Nice. The Fraulein had relieved the monotony of the journey by long intervals of sleep and of Mr Trollope's cathedral novels. Mareia, on the other hand, had been industriously endeavouring to acquire modern Greek, a pursuit in which the knowledge of ancient Greek is, if anything, a hindrance to you. You must "go for" your modern Greek a3 David went for Goliath. The erudition of Porsnn and Brunck is only in your way. Nor will any study of Homer or Plato enable you to dispute a cab-fare or order dinner at a restaurant. You misht as well venture out in London armed with a semi-colloquial power over genuine Anglo-Saxon.

CHAPTER XXVTI.

■At the Piraeus there is nothing to be done or seen. Athens itself has been much over-praised. There are far finer ruins and relics of antiquity in many parts of Italy than are to be found in the whole Hellenic kingdom; "and if you read Wordsworth's "Greece," and go to Greece fired by its artistic enthusiasm, you will find yourself chillingly disappointed. The modern Greeks, I care not what may bo said to the contrary, are a mongrel race, and deserve the reputation they have won in the City of London, and on every continental Bourse.

But Greece itself can have little altered, if at all. The sea, the mountains, the quarries, the forests, are still there, and we can read into the mwhat we please. Lord Norwich, beyond vague reminiscences from his Eton days, knew nothing of Greek literature, and cared less. Markby could use strong language in most of the European dialects, but could not make head or tail of a tongue in ivhich an equilateral triangle followed by a dash does duty for our national oath.

"We will worry on as best we can," observed the philosopher. "The price of things is pretty much the same all the world over. If we find we are being robbed beyond endurance, we can easily run up the Levant, and throw anchor in the Golden Horn. You would like Stamboul, Norwich, I am sure."

So that evening they went up to the city and dined in the Acropolis. It is curious to drink fresh wine and eat fresh olives in the very place, perhaps in the very spot, where olives were eaten and wine and water drunk by the statesmen and heroes who drove back the tide of Eastern barbarism, and so laid a foundation for the history of Europe.

Somehow or other it came about that they loitered on without any definite plans. There is plenty of snipe-shooting to be had all round the Greek coast, and men who can bring down a brace of snipe right and left prefer snipe-shooting to any other form of sport, exactly as veterans with the line will tell you that, short of the pleasure of a day with the salmon there is nothing on earth to equal a good day with the Thames gudgwm. In India, next to the tiger, if there be one in the neighbourhood, and the bemr, your genuine shikary is. perhaps, keenest on a day with the snipe.

And the two men were as happy as need be. Markby, philosopher and citizen of the world, had nothing for which to wish. Norwich was livened out of all apathy by Markby's genuine schoolboy geniality. And they were both in this cheery frame of mind when one of those events happened upon which my history hinges.

• • # • * The Fraulein was looking one morning over her paper in the intervals of breakfast, when her eye was caught by the words, "The Earl Norwich has arrived at Athens in his yacht the Cecilia." The little old lady said nothing for a time, but presently remarked in a dreamy kind of way that she was getting a little tired of Nice, and should almost like to go further south. "Shall we try Rome?" aaked Marcia. No, the Fraulein did not seem to take kindly to the notion of a visit to the Eternal city. So first one place was mentioned and then another, and then another, each to be dismissed in its turn, until Marcia grew impatient, and was irreverent enough to suggest in one breath, Mesopotamia, Midlothian, Niagara, Newcastle, and as an alternative either Camberwell or Constantinople. "You seem to be joking, Marcia," said the Fraulein. "I happen to be in earnest and have no intention at present of visiting Camberwell. But I should very much ilike to see Constantinople before I die, and we can take Athens on our way."

Whenever the Fraulein began to talk of her death as being even remotely possible, Marcia'3 heart began to soften at once.

"All right, Fraulein," she answered, "you shall have your own way, and nobody shall dare to contradict you. Constantinople, if you like, and Athens on the way. Come, Miss Dietz, lam ailmost as tired of Nice as you are, and am almost 'beginning to like a good journey for its own sake. Besides, I want to air mv Greek."

Marcia was in earnest, fpelin«r rpallv disposed for a change. Tin- Frniilein was in earnest for reasons of her own. They were becoming by this time experienced travellers, nevor wasting time. and consequents never having to hurry themselves. They chose the sea route, and before long found themselves at Athena. The Frauilein had kept her secret

to herself, and Marcia never noticed tt. at her moorings in the h* As Norwich and Markby W rt m . themselves shore leave, iho wVt PVe * sign was not flying, and the 'Si- , *, except for the beauty of her trained eye, looked as much Tik e I ' other yacht as need be, " The two ladies put up at an hotel n name of which I do not intend to «? but where French was spoken. fflTI English ladies travelling without escort were naturally at Athens an\3? ject of curiosity, and the head-waiU more than usually condescending fmJ. tentive He happened also to btpoSLii of a Maltese wealth of dialect S 5 all tongues more or less indiscrW na W so that Marcia was much impressed i£ his civility and his obvious dealt* f make himself useful. ™ : He was a Greek, and his name hatm** ed to he Peter Clift. This at S' as nearly as I can spell the nanT. • - English. I may add that it was tm priate, ns names sometimes are Mr. Clift had soon ascertained as m &, as he required to know about the t» English ladies and their business. M? his evening's work was over he ■» t round to a wine-chop in the neighW hood, where he sat for some time over » glass of absinthe, until at last a m» came in who somehow or other v seemed to know. 1!

The stranger, who might have teen , peasant or countryman of any sort toor no notice of Mr Clift. and Mr Clift toot no notice of the stranger. The oft« paid his shot, lit his cigarette and walked out. The other W down his paper, added a cognac to the amount of reckoning, Xt a cigar asj also turned into the street. But W fore Mr Clift had jrone four humfoj yards, or indeed half that distance, his shoulder was lightly tapped, and swinj. insr sharply round on his heel, he laif "You, Stephen, my king of ihunteti! There is srame about."

"Indeed," was the answer. ?Th e niV . is good. These butchers are extortion, ate thieves. They are as 'bad as h& gands. And game is always in season whether dt he Italian roebuck, Fremi partridge with its pretty red stockinn or English pheasants." '

"They are English pheasants," answered Mr Clift, without the least emotion or excitement in his voice. "A trace of hens, my dear friend. One ola and one young, but both in good' condition They have been talking all dinnertime! in their abominable tongue, about tie country, and about how they meant to see it. I almost was tempted to rccOm. mend them 'a guide, but I am afraid, dear one, you are too well known." Both men chuckled.

"How will you let mc know?" asked the stranger.

"The usual way," replied Mr, Clilt, " Leave tilings to mc. heart of my own, and now leave mc to myself, for these dogs of Syndics make the gas painfully trying to my old eyes." • The other dropped behind at once without a word, and Mr. Ulift with as unmoved countenance made his way back to the hotel ' '

Marcia and the Fraulein sat that night in the drawing-room of the hotel, and discussed their plan for the next day. They soon came to the conclusion, tint the first thing to be done was to go I little way out into the country. They could have a fly, or they could have ponies, and as Mr. Clift happened to be in attendance mentioned their wish'to' him

Mm. Mr. Oift would see to everything. He would recommend mules in prefer- j ence to ponies, if the ladies had no ob , i jection. He would also find-them i " guide, who of course would need a mnle of his own. He would be most careful to select a guide who could be trmtsl, and who knew the country thoroughly, And having got his orders, Mr. Clift eel about their execution with a countenance absolutely immovable. The whole thing would have been comical if it had not j also had about it a distinctly ugly and dangerous side. It is true that your Greek brigand for some years past has not killed Ms vifr tims, or lopped off their oars or fingen or noses. Practically, (pt'.r. ip3, lie a a less dangerous ruffian than the Paris Apache, or the Liverpool corner-man But there is no romance about him. He is, to put it plainly, a blackguaTd of to; very lowest type. And it is horribU even to think of a lady being forU day; or even an hour under, the control and »t the mercy of a scoundrel with as little chivalry "in him as the worst loafer W plug-ugly man in the foulest New, Vorit slum. (To be continued next Saturday,),