THE TRAGIC BRIDE.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 46, 23 February 1929, Page 3

THE TRAGIC BRIDE.

I was curled up in my favourite armchair one gusty before'a blazing tire, a treasure 'volume of Dickens' "Great Expectations" resting on my knees. The draii iwilight' was rapidly fading into uTackness. and the flickering lire cast weird"*shadows on the walls; but loth to break the spell of warm contentment which enveloped me. I did not rise to 1 ijrlit the room, but remained gazing dreamily into tiie red heart of the glowing coals.

Presently 1 started at the sound of soft footfalls in the room, and turning, beheld walking faltering towards me the bent and withered form of an old woman. She approached slowly, both bonv hands clasped on the hard knob of her stick. Even in the fitful light I instantly recognised her. The yellow, tattered bridal garb, the tinslippered feet, the emaciated form and wispy grey hair, could he no other than Dickens' Miss Havisham of "Great Expectations." But I noticed that the bitter, mocking look had left the sere face, leaving only traces of great suffering.

".So you know me. child';'' quavered the thin voice, at length, breaking the silence. '"Yes, Miss Havisha-m," I munuttred rather timidly, "I was just thinking of yoti."' "All, then tell me. child, wlmt iiccama of my poor, beautiful Estella, whom I so cruelly wronged? Quickly, quickly! Time passes, and I must soon return to the past." And rapidly, eagerly, I mounted how the tragic heroine had at last found happiness with devoted Pip, after the death of Miss Mavisham (her guardian). As I talked, a look of great peace softened the old woman's features.

"All, thank you. thank yon, child," she sighed. "Xow I can rest in peace— at Inst."

And as I looked, the vision slowly faded. I started as a coal fell with a clatter from the grate, and I was suddenly conscious of a gav voice in mv ear.

"Gome along, dreamy, it's t iour tur* to set the taltle this week."