THE OTHER INMATE.

Press, Volume LIII, Issue 9353, 29 February 1896, Page 2

THE OTHER INMATE.

By Samuel Cltall White

CHAPTER IV. Mabgaret Awdry,

The leave? in Rothbury wood bad begun to fall, "from the aenens and poplars tbey floated earthwards in fi—tes of dead gold, from the oaks and baeehe* thjsy frepped away in S«ry curls, lik* the resplendent feathfra of tropic birds. The raois-CTowa paths, with here aud there a patch ©f brown earth, were, being slowly covered with" a gorgeous carpet, patterned in crimson and gold arid deep coppery shades. The days remained warm and sunny, but every night brought a touch of frost, and every morning saw a thinning in the fob'age, as though invisible hands had shaken tne trees. The dew, a ministering angel throughout the summer, now aided i n the work of despoilment. In the early morning, before the sun was well up, the leaves fell almost directly down, at mid-day they floated off lightly, descending in a long airy flight. A few strong winds, and it would become possible to see the thrush where he sang in the lacy elm top, or to spy the blackbird in the heart of the copse. The woods of Rothbury had been for ages well preserved, so that through the village aud out to the borders of the estate, well nigh as far as the little town of Market Walsinghain, th-3 houses and farm were embowered in groves of oak and beech and ash, whereever trees could stand without interference with the annual ripening of crops.

Philip Rothbury had been rather more than two months on the estate, and had settled dowa into the quiet life of a country gentleman, whose property is hi 3 eonstantand iiot uupleasurabSe care. His adaptability to circumstances showed itself in the ease and swiftness with which this change had been accomplished. From the freedom and comparative -poverty of his life in Ne.v Zealand lie had stepped without noticeable embarrasslnDnv into the possession of wealth and social standing, and for all evidence to the contrary he might have been born and spant his entire life in the possession of both. But one feature differentiated him from the gentlemen around, and this wa3 his perfect equality of manner with all classes. It seemed that he did no; reci'idse any distinctions of wealth a.id ra.ik, bat was prepared to meet all men on the ground of their common humanity. This led to some misunderstanding among a portion of his tenants, who were inclined to debit his ease and freedom of manner to the account of inherent vulgarity. Th ay made alio trances. It was not to be expected that a man who had had to work for his living in a rough and savage country should possess the perfect manners of a trained and educated Englishman. His social equals were affected somewhat differently. Mr Awdry disliked it, he thought it was put on.

" I rather like it," said Margaret. ••' Why shouldn't we treat everybody the same? Nature does."'

"Ah," said Mr Awdry, "Nature. But ner'e' not living in a state of nature ; we % are living in society, which is a very different thing. Rothbury wouldn't a3k these people to dinner." "I boli'eve lie would," said Margaret, "if he thought they wanted to come. He has ths good souse to see that ifc would give them no enjoyment, so he'leavas thsm alone, otherwise I think he is quite capable of it."

'•' It seems to mc Rothbury rather exaggerates it," said her father. "Every gentleman is civil to his social inferiors ; to c familiar-with-them argues a certain inferiority ia himself, deficient education, bad breeding, low tastes." "That is the view the people take themselves," said Margaret. "Old Mrs Hobbs wa.i telling ine of a visit he paid her, and she seamed to be quite shocked at his manner. He treated her like a son, and the old woman was naturally put out • He's no gentleman, Miss,' she saidseverely. But I think itcomesof their not understanding him. Ho is not really familiar, on the contrary ho strikes mc as reserved and a little proud, but he has a way of accommodating himself to the level of the person with whom he is npsaking. If he got into conversation with anavvyl could quite imagine him swearing and chewing tobacco, just out of sympathy." " You seem to have changed your opinion of him. Margaret," said her father, walking to the window, and putting up his glasses to look across tho lawn. "You were not quite so appreciative at first." Mr Awdry wa3 a small, white-haired man, with a pompous manner, and a strut not unlike that of a small bantam. Ho interfered a good deal, and it was thought disastrously, in local affairs, posing as a philanthropist with ideas, and writing prosy letters, headed with quotations, to the local papers. Margaret did not at once reply, but sat absently turning over the leaves of a book in her lap, her head thrown back, her blue eyes bent on a portrait in oils on the opposite wall of the room. " I have come to think he is rather like Herbert," she said at length.

Her father dropped his glasses and shifted uneasily. The disappearance of Herbert had brought him much trouble in the past, especially mental troub'e which he dreaded. He had liked Herbert in the pale, spineless way peculiar to him, hut his daughter's persistence in regarding the missing man as still alive, and acting and inducing others to act as though that fact were assured, impressed him as highly irrational. He was in a constant dread of being called upon to do or consider something when his time was already fully occupied in the elaboration of his own ideas. It struck him now that it was in the range of possibilities that Margaret should transfer her affections to the new heir. The notion pleased him; she would hardly be so desirous for the return of the old lover after she had become engaged to his successor. He felt on a sudden quite warmed towards the man. " You may be right," he said cheerfully. " Of course he is a New Zealander and the idea of social equality is, I understand, rather advanced in that colony. The Premier, as a matter of fact, was a boilermaker, or was it a billiard-marker ? anyway he sprang from the ranks. No doubt we ought to look upon Rothbury as a foreigner and make allowances. I have formed a very high opinion of his general character. By the way, Margaret, we must ask him to dinner again. I wonder how he would be disposed towards my System for the better cultivation of small fruits. I must send him my pamphlet on Voluntaryism in the Distribution of Charitable Aid—really one has duties towards one's neighbours." Mr Awdry left the room, as though bent on the immediate performance of these duties. Margaret sat on hardly conscious of his departure, still retaining the same attitude, her gaze turned on the wall. Many varying expressions crossed her face, wonder, rebellion, suspicion. Now and then it softened into tenderness, the red mouth quivered; once she shut her eyes hard and on re-open-ing them they were bright with unshed tears.

An hour later, riding along the leaf-strewn highway, "she was overtaken by tho new heir, returning home. He doffed his cap and reined in his horse at the sight of her. They had met on the highway on two or three previous' occasions about the same hour, and the renewed encounter led hor to observe that this was her favourite ride; the Rothbury woods were always beautiful, but never so lovely as at the fall of the leaf. If the truth must be told, Rothbury had timed a business appointment with a very clear notion of this preference, and he feu in by her side with a pleasurable feeling in the result of his small stratagem. " You have known the woods all your life," he remarked, by way of commencing conversation.

" Yes," she said. "I often fancy I know every tree in them. lam afraid you will find that there is a general feeling of proprietorship in yonr park all over the district."

is I shall not interfere with that feeling," said Rothbury, "seeing it is one which I entertain in large part myself. No single man has the right to own a place like this to the entire exclusion of the rest of the world. That reminds mc, Miss Awdry •" he broke off, " of a favour which I have had it in my mind to ask of you. You are well acquainted, with the bush—the 'woods I should say—and could aid mc in determining the best line for a right-of-way from Pnngle's Mill to Rothbury End." " How can I assist yon, Mr Rothbury ?" she asked, in some surprise at the determination implied. "I have consulted Chappie, the agent, you know, and he is very much against it. His idea iB, if the right-of-way is necessary at ell, and he denies that it "is, to run the path out by Poppleton's where the trees are thinnest."

" That would certainly be the most direct course," said Margaret. •'Ah," said Rothbury, "but that's sot

my idea. It would "'surely be worth an extra five or ten minutes to go through the most picturesque part of the woods, and it is in deciding which is the mo3t picturesque part that you can render mc valuable assistance."

"Youeeem to consider only the person* who are to nuke use of your right-of-way, Mr Rothbgry,"said Margaret, aft«ra!»uift} "the- agent no doubt iooks at *b 9 letter froni the point of a view of * U>i»de4 pro? prietor who desires to keep "his estate in hie own h*n.dj. Have you ifchoagasof that ?" "'Yes,, and I do not feel t"b%fc J 4$ that partiadar kind of landed nroprietor. .It eeems to trie?' be, added "* nwasfroijs thing that people, f honjd bY compelled to travel along three miles of uninteresting highway, when at the small cost of a couple 01 gatos they could reach their destination in a third of the time, and by an .infinitely more pleasurable route." Margaret looked thoughtful. " You certainly give the thing a different appearance,'" she said, with a smile. " Then I may count on your help ?" asked Rothbury, eagerly. "I think you may," said Margaret, hesitatingly. " "But how," she added. " When you b?jome ac—imathed ? You may be inclined to blame mc for not giving you bet ter advice. Really the responsibility is almost mote than I am Inclined to accept." " Don't say that," urged Rothbury. *' If I thought I should become acclimatised to a policy Of sshishncss, I would go back to New Zealand to-morrow. I| is really a very small thing that L-propose to do, the most that can be said for it* is that it make 3 for justice; were i to b3 l "absolutely just, I should admit that the- poorest tenant who labours on'the pslate had a better claim to own it than I."

" Now I'understand you." said Margaret. "We have had the red van through Rothburv more-than once."

""The red van*" he asked, looking puzzled. " The propaganda van, 1 believe they call it," explained Margaret, "the landnationaliseis. Did you know that your cousin Herbert was at one time a member of the league ?" This was the first time Margaret had alluded to the late proprietor in Rothbury's presence. II j did noi> f.iit to note the momentary droop .in her voice as she mentioned* his cousin's name, but for some reason the fact 'that the nani2 had been mentioned pleased him. " I did not know it," he said with interest. " You say •at one time.' Then ho changed his view*':"

"Yes," replied Margaret, "he came to think that private ownership made for progress as well as stability. He thought the cost of change would be too great and the advantages more visionary than real." Rothbury shook his head, but his thoughts bad fiown off in another direction. " May I speak to yon about Herbert?" he asked, suddenly.

" I have wished that you would," replied Margaret, gently. " Ther-j are nuny thing? that puzzle mi," said Rothbury. " I .have heard a good deal from Oar/slake, and tho servants have told mc what they know, still when it is all told it appear.-} to amount to nothing." '• What did Mr Carslake toll you ?" asked Margaret, in an altered voice, her i'-.ice grown suddenly cold and hard. "Did lie tell you that he wa.3 the la3t person to see him alive ?"

" That among other things," replied Rothbury, Riirpmsd.

" What other things ?" she asked. " Nothing mors than is apparently in the possession of everybody," lie answered reflectively, " no more than is to bo found in the placards and advertisements. .Surely you have no reason to suspect that he knows more ?" he asked, point-blank. Margaret reined in her horse and gazed at him, the colour in liar faco coming and going in response to some inward excitement. " Ah," she cried impulsively at length, " can I trust yon? Davol?"

" You mast deside, Miss Awdry," he replied, with a grave wonder.

"Forgive m-j if I oil'jnl .yon,"' she slid hurriedly: " I have .b?e:i forced into distrust. There has been nobody to care whether Herbert w»3 alive or dead except myself. How\ean I forget that this property, which was .inoe" his, is now yours; that his Reappearance wotildmisan your loss." "It is true," said Rothbury, with a .clouded face," Hut. what of that ? map. could' take pleasure in returning'from affluence to poverty, yet-1 would not hold it at the expense of its rightful owner. Were Herbert to come round that bend now, I could go back to <New Zealand with a light heart."

The groom had approached within a fewyards while they paused, and Margaret now again put her horse into motion. "Look," she said, excitedly, drawing near to her companion, "if you were to see in the possession of one man something which had belonged to another who had disappeared, what should you think ?"..'•' : Rothbury shrugged lus shoulders, his face full of uneasiness. " What should yon do ?" repeated Margaret, in the same tone. "I should ask him how he came by it," said Rothbury. Margaret drew away, her body losing its rigidity, her head drooping despondently. "Ah," she said, "you are a man. I was taken by surprise, I hadn't the courage." "Have you mentioned this to anyone ?" Rothbury asked. Margaret shook her head. " Tell mc," he said.