THE HOUSEHOLD OF McNEIL.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 5950, 1 October 1890, Page 4

THE HOUSEHOLD OF McNEIL.

[BY AMELIA E. BARR.J

CHAPTER VIII. (Continued)

Besides, a new thought had como into his mind. For tho next generation of tho McNeils ho would build a grander homo. The old castle was very dear to him, but it could bo made much larger, and more Stately in form, and much more magnificent in tho interior. In fact, the passion of dabbling in stone and mortar had taken possession of tho laird, and ho felt as if life would lack something important when he had no building on hand and no workmon to look after.

As it happened, his architect paid him a visit while tho thought was simmering in his mind. Tho possibilities of the castle were thoroughly examinod, the additions and alterations" decided on, and McNeil's heart was uplifted with the idea of the house ho would leave to those who would como aftor him. He thought of himself as the second MoNeil—the founder of the family upon circumstances suited to the aims and genius of the nineteenth contury. Ho felt as if in the land of shadows the McNeil who had first built their home would greet him with a peculiar approbation and affection. Ho stepped proudly about t'a_ old room, to his ambitious thoughts ; and Coliu and Helen, happily busy about their bridal arrangements, wore glad of tho now interest that he had called into his life.

So tho pleasant weok. went by, and thero was no sorrow in thorn, nor yet any shadow or prnsentimont of sorrow. A letter from Grizelda, dated Rome, had lulled such fears regarding her as wero spoken of; those which lay at the bottom of each heart did not interfere with the visible happy routine of daily life. Tho laird had determined to make his daughter Helen's marriage a notable event. The festivities at Grizelda's had been in a manner forced and formal ones, in which the bride had taken littlo interest and which had simply been got through with by himself because the family namo and family feeling demanded them.

But Holen'o marriage would be tho realisation of his pet plans and hopes. Ho loved Colin, aud thought him as worthy of Helen as any mero mortal could bo. Their union was in overy way a fit ono ; and he was resolved to show the McNeils, who had not thought much of Grizelda's weddingfeast, that when the occasion was worthy of it, he knew how to rojoice royally with his kindred. Aud ho also had a very decided feeling of pleasure in tho prospect of astonishing thorn with tho improvements ho had made on the estate.

Tho castle was in a manuer renovated for tho ovent. Rooms that had not been nsed for a generation wero thrown open and refurnished. Tho uneven black oak floors wero covered with rich carpets; tho illfitting windows shielded with draperies of heavy velvet. Antique chairs and sofas were re-covered ; polishers, paporera, and gilders wero brought from Glasgow to make tho ancient rooms a fit residenco for a young and lovely bride.

Helen and Colin found in all these changes hourly causo for delightful hopes nnd confidences. Helen had all a woman's delight in a delightful home. Every fresh ornament pleased her. Tho disposition of every piece of furniture, the hanging of overy picture, was an event to the lovers. Two chaffinches, building their spring nests among the apple blossoms, were never happier than those two loving mortals, arranging together their future homo.

In the matter, also, of Helen's wardrobe, tho laird had been singularly thoughtful and generous. Boxes, bearing wedding garments of all kinds, were continually arriving, and Colin know that whenever he should go to Glasgow to purchase his bride joweL, he would curry with him an order from the laird for diamonds of great worth. So, although September was tin unusually rainy month, thero was a perpetual sunshine of love and hope in the cast'.e.

At the end of September, Colin went to Glasgow to make tho hist purchases aud arrangements. It seemed to Helen as if he took with him all the rare, sweet atmosphere in which sho had been living for a little while. A sudden sense of suspended duties gave her a feeling of remorse. Sho remembered how seldom Dr. Brodick had been to speak to her, and how little interest she had taken in her usual village work.

Tho thought was a premonition, for ero it had passed away, she saw tho minister coming. Not at his usual thoughtful pace, but with the rapid steps of a man urged by some powerful reason, and full of a determined purpose. She glanced at her father, who was sitting by the hearth, taking his after-dinner pipe and glass of toddy. He had received that morning the first draught of the plans for the enlargement of tho castle, and he was musing with pride and contentment on their anticipated splendor.

He greeted Brodick with a peculiar kindness, and held his hand with a hearty grip, for he loved the man, and was not. happy in any purpose till he had disuissed it with him, "and. if possible, secured his tictivo sympathy. "Sit down beside me, Brodick. There is not a man iv the world I would rather see at this hour. Helen, my bird, call for the minister's pipe ami glai-s." De was so full of his own plans ho did not notice that Brodick's checks had on them the red spot which always indicated his anger ; nor yet that his manner was full of stem preoccupation. The laird, at that moment, could 'see nothing but tho nugnifioient turrets of his projected home, with the ensign of the McNeils, floating loftily from it: and us the specifications lay be«ide him. ho opened them proudly, and b. "an to explain thoir purport to his old friend. , . , , .., Brodick looked at them a moment with tratherinir anger; then he pushed them passionately away, and cried out: "I dare not look at them, Lnirtl .' 1 dare not look at them '. Do you know that thero are fourteen cases of typhus in thoto cottages you built P Do yon remember what George Selwyn said about the right of the laborer to pure air and puro water. I knew he was right then, and yet—oh God for.'ive mo !—I let you tako your own way' sFx little bits of bairns, and their two'mothers, und six of your best fishermen You must away instanter for doctors and' medicine, and such things as are net Iful. There is not a minute to lose, L&'rd!" ~, .. ... Helen had risen while tho minister was apoakiiicr. and there was a calm determination about her mumer which frightened her father. He did not answer Brodick ; ho turned to his daughter. " Helen McNeil, where are you going.- '_ "To the village. I know something of nursing the sick. I can givo a little help until boner help is got." «> Hit down! sit down: Bidu whero you aro ;' 1 will do whatever Brodick tells me to Then he turned angrily to tho minister. " You are aye bringing me bad news. Am Ito blame if fever comes '< Is life and doathinmy hand?" " You are to blame, McNeil ; very much to blame." " Brodick, keep to your own text. I say the cottages are good ones. If men and •women arc lazy and dirty, and give fever an invite into their homes, can I help it." "Aml my brother's keeper. It is an old question, an old excuse, Laird. The first murderer asked it and pleaded it. I am bound to say that you aro to blame. When you did nor. givo the cottages good drainage aud plenty of pure water, you askod fever into them; and 1 will not hear you lay it to the Almighty. You should rave built as George Selwyn advised you to

build." , .tii "Name not that man to mo ! I hate him ' What did bo come here for ? He has brought mo nothing but trouble. And I will not be hectored by you either, Doctor, as if 1 was a bad bairn. Kay what I must do, and I'll do it if it is anything iv reason-only Helen shall not leave the castle; that is sure as death! Sit down, Helen. Send all tho wine and dainties you like to; bat I forbid you to put a foot over the threshold of the castle." "I am not asking for Helen. Ihoro is nothing she could do now that some old crone in tho village cannot do better." "Do or not do, Helen will bido just where sho is. I will count you my enemy forovor mora if you set any other duty but my word beforo her." The laird's anger was, in its way, quite as authoritative as tho minister's, and Helen signified her assent t'j his order by a kiss which somehow sent a pang into his heart and a sob into his throat. Ho put on. his hat and went out with Brodick. It was a bitterly annoying interruption to all his pleasant dieamiug. And Brodick's self, rei'/caches were lib own self-reproaches, thoiiL'li ie: resented them, oven while he acknowiedi.ed their justice. " 1 wish now that I had built differently. Ynu sh"dd havo urged "'" more, .Brodick. If y;.u hiid pit. it t" n* l -'! !td :l matter of rij'ht find wrong, you know I would have minded you.' *« oh,"Laird, my own conscience in enough this day." "You should have made mo do nsrht. You should have made, me do right. You should have been more detcrmirn d with mo."

It was not at all likely that McNeil would have lintrued to any iidvieo on tho sub jet,; it. \</-.:m even probable tliat urging would hav-' only made him more stubbornly ngiiiir-t siir-li .'ight improvements as had beeu niaoe, but it ruiieved McNeil to think

he would have listened to reason, and besides, he had a sort of angry satisfaction in augmenting the trouble of the minister's conscience.

This was the beginning of evil days. It soon became evident that the wedding would have to be postponed. Guests could hardly be invited to a village plaguostrioken in evory household, and the suffer-

ing and mourning wero so great and so general that the very idea of festivity amid it was unnatural and revolting. Colin alone had a moment's contemplation of it. He thought it would bo well to have a very quiet and privato ceremony and take Helen away from the infected locality. But Helen would not permit the suggestion to be made , ~, "I should bo selfish indeed," she said '• to leave my father alone in his trouble ; and I should be haunted by tho constant fear of his death. Besides, Colin dear, our marriage was to be such a great pleasure to him. We may not care for the company and the stir of the wedding feast, but ho thinks so much of it. If we are married quietly for our own pleasure or safety, I should always feel as if wo had defrauded him of a joy ho could never have again. An old man's disappointment counts double, I 1 think, Colin." And Colin kissed her fondly. He had no wish but her wish, for she had continually taught him, by her sweet unselfishness, that neither men nor women can live for themselves a life worth living—that all the flowers of love and happiness blow double.