TESSA.

Bruce Herald, Volume XXII, Issue 2265, 15 May 1891, Page 3

TESSA.

Chapter I. 'I liftve ,. put, your, , luggage in the , yap npareat the engine, mias. .You will not hare to change uutil you ,get to York.' ; •Many" thanks'! >; '■' !l : There wbb »"i slights clinking noise ac aome, silver s.id from the youpg' lady's daintilygloved fingers 4 at ?> the porter ? s hand. >. . ■ . He touched hiff cap again. , > TI , ' Much obliged, r inisa!.' Toil are sure there is nothing more 1 Can do'for you P * ' ] '' ' Quite sure, I thank you.' ' ' ' The speaker;! nodded and smiled. Such a sweet bright smile it was , that a gentleman seated in tbe opposite corner of the carriage inwardly entied the fortunate recipient. He watched his companion furtive y as the. train moved out o£,\the station and she commenced to arrange her r,ugs and settled herself comfortably in her. corner. There were many little preparations to be made before her arrangements were completed. First of all, her gloveß came off, were rolled np into a little tight ball and put carefully into ' m her travelling- hap ; then a doubt seized her as to the enfety of her ticket, and her purse had to be taken from the very bottom of her bag and the contents seriously investigated ; finalh , her hat, a large Gainsborough with soft black feathers drooping ovt;r the brim, was carefully removed and placed on the shelf over-head, and repl"Ced ' by a dainty black velvet hood l'ned with pale-pink satini »nd tied coquettishly unHi-r the wearer's dimpled chin with black-velvet strings. Her companion wutched the proceedings witli intense interest, and found himself ■fond^ring if the girl knew what a charming setting the velvet hood made for the fair face with its straight dark brows, soft dark-blue eyes, and rose-leaf complexion. He wondered, and then smiled to himself over the absurdity of so doing. • Has there ever been a woman yet who was ignorant of her own charms — of how best to set them off ? ' he thought cynically. But, though somewhat cynical, he waß sociably disposed, and it was not long before he had changed his seat to the other end of the carriage and opened an animated conversation with the young lady. She was equally inclined to be communicative. She had travelled from Calais to Dover the day before, she informed him ; they hod had rather a rough passage, but she had not been like most of the passengers — indeed ehe had quite enjoyed the crossing, for she had remained on deck nearly all the time, and the captain had taken care of her, and it was be-iuti ul to watch the great waves, and to feel the steamer rise and fall with them.. ' Why, you have had quite a long journey !' her companion said kindly. He was a litile man with very bright eyes and a dark ugly face, which when in repose wore a somewhat repellent expression, but which, when he spoke or smiled, brightened into something much more attractive than any mere looks could be. He was much — probably ten or fifteen years — older than his companion, who appeared to be about twenty ; and he consequently felt quite justified in assuming a fatherly protecting manner towards her. ' Have you much farther to go now ? ' • Into Yorkshire. That is some distance, is it not? ' the young lady answered. She spoke English correctly, but with a pretty foreign accent, and once or twice she hesitated over a word and substituted a French word for the English one. ' I know very little about this country. I ! have lived in Franca nearly ten years.' 'Ah, at school, I suppose?' — and her companion smiled indulgently. • And I , suppose, like all young ladies, you are de- j lighted to get rid of school-drudgery, and are rejoicing in the prospect of unlimited gaiety ? ' The girl shrugged her shoulders. ' Perhaps I might be if I saw much chance ■ of that,' she said, with a little grimace ; ' but j unfortunately my future home will be in a -Quaker family, and, from all I hear, the Friends-r-it is a droll name, is it not? — are not a very frivolous or amusing set.' The gentleman laughed. 'No — you are right ; they are not remarkable for exuberant gaiety.' he said drily ' I ought to know, for I belong co a Quaker family myself. My father and mother, and indeed all my people, belong to the Society of Friends, and I myself am a degenerate member thereof.' ' Really ? ' —and the girl opened her eyes in unfeigned surprise, ani looked curiously at her companion. ' I should not have thought it likely,' she went on, after a little pause. Trm gentleman laughed. ' T said a degenerate member, you must bear in mind,' he an3wered drily. 'It is many a long year since I tur r ed aside from tie ways of my forefathers, and, although I live in the very midst of a Quaker neighbourhood, many a long year since I have been in a meetinu-hous j . I dare say, since your frienis are Qu-kers, you may have heard of Pcnninaton, m Yorkshire ? It is v threat Quaker town, v>u kno^.' ' Penning n ? Wiv, thnt is where ray friends live ! ' the girl ?aid, witb a litde surprise und pleasure ii h.-r clear voice. ' Perhaps you may k ow them? T ieir name I is B^vun, and they live at. a house called Bevan HiH, a few miles fr im Pennington.' ' Why, of course I know tnetn well ! I live within a mile of Bevun Hall;' and the gentleman looked at his companion with greater curiosity, not unmixed with compassion. 'Let me in'rxluce myself to you. My nmn3 is Cleveland*— Noel Cleveland — and I live at a tumble-down old place called the Priory, about, as I said before, a mile from your friend's hou^e. So we shall be neighbours, you see. Now you must tell me your name, please.' 1 Certainly ; ' and the girl smiled an i coloured, and looked prettier than ever, Mr. Cleveland thought; 'it is Tereia Mary Cardine. And so you know my friends? That is quite delightful, for now you can tell me alt about them ! ' ' All about them ? ' — and Mr. Cleveland looked amused. ' What do you mean ? Do you wish to know if they are rich and respectable — or what? ' • Are they nice ? ' •Nice? That is such a dubious term! Our views of niceness may be totally opposite, you know,' Mr. Cleveland answered, with a carelesj laugh. ' Don't you know them at all?' ' No ; my mother and Mrs. Bevan were distant relatives. They were very great friends as girls ; and, when my mother and father iei veers ago, Mrs. Bevan promised I should live with her as soon as I had completed my education,* Miss Csrdine answered. ' Is she your guardian ? ' ' Oh, no ! My guardian is a Mr. Sharpe, a lawyer ,- but I am of age now ; I was twenty-one last month,' the girl returned cheerfully. 'Mrs. Beyan used to write to me very often at one time — such kind letters ! — 'but lately her J daughter has written instead. Mrß. Bevan is getting old now, I supposo P She was much older than my mother, I know/ •'Yes ;] she has been quite, an invalid/for the lass five years. You will li^e her very much,, I, am sure— ahe 4s euch a quiet, gentle ojd lady.' I was very fond ' as a boy of Btw Bevan.' . | !" And Her son — Mr. Ausfceri Sevan— -what ha r;like ,■'. •■ j . ' : ; ,-,, < . > . '

h .:,/,AustonP Qh.heiß a gopdfelloyv enough —rather crotchety and odd sometimes ! ' 'Arid the k daughter— Mrs,, Oajlender ? Sbiriehow I. 4°n't tw^k I ehall get on with her,' itiss Oardine went on meditatively. J* There is ' something about "her letters— a c flavour, if I may bo describe it, of prunes and prims— which does not commend itself favourably to my notice. What kind of person is she P' Mr. Cleveland stroked his moustache gravely. .' ' I assure you she is an inestimable person,' he answered; deliberately. ' She is devoted to all good works — she is a district -visiting lady, a; Sunday -sohool teacher,/ a prominent member of the Blue Ribbon movement, and she baa, I believe, in addition to all this, strong yearnings after the Salvation Army.' 'lam lurpmed at that ! I should have thought the Salvation Army and Society of Friends were diametrically opposed to each" other.' Miss Oardine remarked. 'So they are ; but I cannot help thinking that the offide of Captain or Major in the Army- would have an almost irresis'table 1 attraction for Mrs Callender,' Mr Cleveland replied. ' She would look well at the head of a regiment waving on her followers with a ginghun umbrella I She ia one of those women — happily for the peace of the inferior sex, they are few in • number — who are born to command.' 'I think she must be a very objectionable womnn,' Miss Cardine observed disdainfully. ' Will she expect me to interest mjself in th<"s- movements, I wonder ? ' 'Of course sh»> will. It depends on yourself how fur her expectations will be realised,' Mr. Cleveland answered drily. 'If you as^rt your rights and stick up for yourself, J you will get on with her well enough, I dare say ; but she rides rough-shod over weak or timid people.' ' Oh, I can stick up for myself well enough — never fear!' — and MiBS Cardine's eyeß sparkled dangerously. ' Thank you for the hint — now I shall know how to shape my course. Do you often visit at the Hall ? ' ' Very rarely now. Austen and I were friends as boys — we are about the same age, and we went to the same school ; but we drifted apart long ago. I don't see much of him now.' ' Don't jou ? lam rather sorry for that,' said Miss Oardine frankly. ' So am I — since you are to be a member of the family ; ' and Mr. Cleveland bowed politely, and glanced, with a loon of unmistakable admiration in hiß eyes, nt the girl's ' pretty pale face. ' I dare say — I hope at all events to renew our friendship now.' Miss Cardine Bmiled, and inwardly echoed the hope. It was five o'clock when the train reached Pennington. The twilight was gathering, and a drizzling rain beat against the carriage windows. For the last few miles the prospect had been anything but cheerful or exhilarating ; a thick veil of mist blotted out the distant purple moors and hills that stretched behind the town, and every chimney of every factory and house seemed to be smoking its hardest. Miss Cardine gave a shiver of disgust as the train entered the Pennington station. She put down the window and looked eagerly out. On the platform a tall lady, riohly dressed in sealskin and dark furs, was standing ; she was talking to a couple of porters, who listened to her harangue with a half-bashful, half-amused grin on their faces. Mr Cleveland looked too and laughed. ' Ah, there is Mrs. Callender ! Sowing the good seed as usual!' he said mockingly. ' Allow me to assist you from the carriage, Miss Cardine.' He hesitated a moment, then went on, with a quick glance at the girl's perplexed face, ' Shall I introduce you to Mrs. Callender ? ' ' Pleaae do — I shall be so much obliged ! ' Miss Cardine put her band willingly upon the proffered arm, and orosaed the platform. Mrs. Callender was too much absorb in lecturing the porters — both of whom Mi3s Cardine afterwarda ascertained were recreant members of the Blue Ribbon Society — to notice their approach ; and it was not until Mr Cleveland stepped forward and, raising his hat, directly addressed her that she turned. She bowed coldly to him ; then her eyes rested on Teresa's fao with a disapproving stare. The girl had not removed her travelling-hood — it was warmer and more comfortable than her hat — and very charming and pretty she looked in it, with its rosecoloured lining. But the coquettish headgear '.found scant favour in Mrs Callender's eyes. For an instant she stared steadily at the girl j then, much to Mr Cleveland's delight and amusement, she turned decisively away with a scornful anifE. His dark eyes were twinkling with malicious amusement as he stepped forward. ' Q-ood afternoon, Mrs. Callender. Allow ma to introduce you to this youDg lady — Miss — ' He paused suddenly, cilenced by the conle nptuous look in Mrs. Cullender a eys. ' Thank you very much, Mr. uleveland ! I .in a di-cenl English matron, and I do n<>t »i*h to be introduced to any of your playacti g fnen Is,' she said, in a low but perfectly a>idibl^ voice. Mi»s Cardine flushed to the very roots of her pre ty hiir with astonishment and anger. ' What an odiom woman ! ' she thought indignantly, and she threw back her daiuty head and, stepping lorwarJ, boldly confronted the enemy. ' You are mistaken — I am Teresa Cardine !' she saH, in a voice which trembled with ■uppre-eed anger. ' Teresa Cardine ! ' It was Mrs Callender's turn to lojk surprised. She looked steadily at the proud quivering f«ca ; her own softened, and she held out her hand. 'I really beg your pardon, my dear! I expected to ccc some one quite different ! ' she said apologetically, but with a mistrustful glance at Noel Cleveland's amused face. 'Seeing you wuVi Mr Cleveland I fancied But never mm4 — is all your luggage here ? ' ' Yes ; I have three boxes.' 'Very well; the carriage is waiting outside. Tour luggage will follow in the cart. Good day, Mr. Cleveland.' She put her hand withiu Miss Oardine's arm, and would have swept her off; but the .girl, with a quiet decisive movement, drew her arm from the detaining fingers and held out her hand to Mr. Cleveland. ' Good-bye. Thanks for all your kindness !' she said, in a sweet defiant voice. Mrs Callender frowned; but she did not speak again until they had taken their places in the carriage. Miss Cardine was equally silent. See sat in her corner, and looked out curiously at the shopß and the crowds of people as they drbve through the lighted streets, with a little defiant expression on her face. Mrs. Callender should be thj first to speak, the girl thought. Mrs. Callender did speak at last. : 'I am afraid youthought me rather abrupt and discourteous just now, my' dear,' she btpan ; 'but ' She paused, a little disconcerted by the steady look in [her companion's eyos., j i ■ ii. 'Yes— you are. right — I did—,' Subs Cardine answered composedly. 'Well, I couldn't: helpiit-^ifc was your own fault!' the elder .lady, rejoined sharply. ' Seeing you dressed out in that outlandish hat _2l» '• ' < >! .o ■■■ < o b continued.) .° :'* !;/