JOYCE DORMER'S STORY.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 11, Issue 827, 16 February 1867, Page 3

JOYCE DORMER'S STORY.

jle, "• _ y<iw imm:W}sM^^ ■ful - '." -':*'-:■ •'•:"■:■""■■"'. .'j y^yy^y; yS^v srs , . . ■ . ■" (From 'OriceA;mek.);^.y^= ; jyp^ th- Mr. Carmjc^ei-. was .;a:'maia 'lo^ayerag^f ers height and; incKn^,lp.,be;stout?^ vill plexion -was .;wbi)»y^]broVirflj- ; and ] s hid; hsry*;--bhe which lacked the redundancy of his^yifes y bias tresses, • dark and /lanky . -His' eyes ;^ere^ the sharp and bead-like,' ' thoiigh ' hb J had : 'Ihely 'he faculty of withdrawing SI brightnlss- ; rce them, when they would assume "a fixed 'tandy m- almost stupid stare. : They were p'p plac'edy" ip in his head as to bring before one the phy-?' sn- siognomy of a horse, .a peculiarity b-|eiry id- noticeable in human faces. His lips; which ;' V es, were very thin, were perhaps his most 're-; " [v- markable feature, as in them, lay his chief ;u- power of expression. One twitbh Of them ; ; ius would alter the whole' look of, his face;,;: bt, though not a muscle in the rest of it should - al, move. Mr. Carmichael always spoke in a .; cc. slow monotonous drawl. Seldom, even if en excited, did he -raise his voice ; indeed, if ,r- anything, he appeared at such times to n) speak more slowly and in a lower tone than ; ed usual. •'• ' ■"■'' y [es He always dressed in black, and wore; a [ly white tie, presenting somewhat the appearat anee of a dissenting minister in comfortable n, circumstances. Perhaps this style of dress it, was in keeping with his general bearing, er dress being to a 1 certain extent the indicator r- ofthe inner man. At any 'rate' it com- y >i- marided a certaiu sorb of J respect l from his- '^-'- bt poorer neighbours, in whose.' eyes the glossy • '-'• • n, broad-cloth, : delicate cambric, and -thick iy gold chain bore unequivocal token of Con-:. • _- firmed respectability, ig Mr. Carmichael had taken up farming as s, a pursuit. He had time on his hands t- which he wished to occupy, and, having a ;_ turn for chemistry and no lack of means, li whereby to try experiments, his crops * ). turned out better than any in the county, II and yielded him a good profit iv addition to • V ->f the amusement he derived from their cuk ; •c ture. ■ . c, He had bought Green Oake principally i on account ofthe farm that was to be sold se with the estate, for the house was larger >f than he would otherwise have : cared to is have. It possessed, too, in the eyes of Mr. •_ Carmichael, another recommendation: it n was not within easy distance of neighbours, ; iv the only house near being the property of c an elderly gentleman, who lived in London, n and never came down to it. His house h was, therefore, shut up, as its owner, from i ? some caprice or. other, refused tb let it. 1 Now, Mr. Carmichael disliked society, and. ,- therefore felt that at Green Oake he could : c not be called upon.to enter into any,- as a •s drive from ten to fifteen miles might be . looked upon as a reasonable excuse for dei clining a dinner invitation, a But elderly gentlemen cannot live for c ever; andin process of time the. elderly.;. h gentlfman in London died, and the estate s passed into the hands of a younger matf, a s nephew of the deceased. Mr, Carmichael was exceedingly irate c when this came to pass ; but, as he could s neither prevent the man's dying nor ' his "" r nephew coming into possession, he was ob- -> liged to* make the best of it; but he an--3 nounced to his wife soon after- the arrival of - i the new-comers that he did' not -intend ■ to visit them. . /:' . .- ■ \- j " I have excellent and unanswierable reavy 1 sons for this decision, Charlotte, though at i present it is not necessary to explain them - 7 to you," said he. j Now Mrs. Carmichael had, in common f with most other women; a; very fair share r of curiosity, and she had already beenmakt ing inquiries in divers directions, and had • = discovered that Mr. Gresford Lynn came from abroad, that he had a beautiful- wife . and three lovely children, the eldest a fine, boy, about a year old; the two. younger, . twin-girls, only a few weeks old. And Mrs. ■ Carmichael's heart yearned after the children; she was devotedly fond of children, and would now and then steal into the coti tage of some young mother for the mere i gratification of holding the baby in her arms i for a moment. But these visits were few and far between, as Mr. Carmichael strongly objected to the poor being visited, on the ground that such visits encouraged pauper- .. ism. ' . ' • Why, Mrs. Carmichael never had had the courage to inquire, npr, if she had made the inquiry, would she have had the power to argue against it. As Mr. Carmichael had enunciated the sentiment, she was bound to believe in it, for great was her belief in her husband's infallibility. But now that a neighbour in her own rank in life had arrived with children, and such beautiful children, her heart leaped within her as she pondered over the source of pleasure within her grasp, and her heart sank in proportion as she listened to Mr. Carmichael's announcement. " Therefore," concluded Mr. Carmichael, " you will in no way take the least notice of these Gresford Lynns." .* Mr. Carmichael, being an autocrat, knew thafc the matter was settled. And therefore Mrs. Carmichael's pleasure was curtailed tb looking at Mrs. Gresford Lynn in church, and to seeing the children with their nurses when she approached nearer than usual the outskirts of Lyncourfc. Within a year of the Gresford Lynns' arrival at their new home, sorrow had visited them; the twin sisters were laid in. the grave, and the boy's life despaired of. However, he recovered from the fever that had carried off the little girls. Then another child — a boy — was born ; and then Mrs. Gresford Lynn's health began to give way. And poor Mrs. Carmichael noted ifc all from afar, and her sympathetic heart grieved silently that.it could offer no aid or succour to her sorrowing neighbour. Mrs. Carmichael was a woman of sympathetic nature, and had had no one to' lavish ifc upon, for Mr. Carmichael did hot require sympathy. She had, therefore, anticipated Joyce's arrival as the beginning, of a new epoch in her existence ; her brother's child would make up to her for the want she had felt throughout her married life. And being somewhat off her guard, she greeted Joyce, when she came down to breakfast, rather more warmly than was her wont, and was immediately made uncomfortably sensible of it by a short epu»h from Mr. Carmichael, and the measured tone in which he said, . • . ' . " Good morning. I hope you have recovered from the .fatigues of jesterday," .- j Very little conversation took phice durr ing breakfast ; _ and when, they rose fromthe. table, Mr. Carmichael turning to Ijis niece, ; . said in a solemn ; voi_e----h_^ K. a solemn voice, even abbut~ : thelM^^^ : ': : -; y matters, and- his requestec^^!-aße^^n_e, V' r even to "potato^'''lnrer^ yy

yy,immßm^ |y-|^Sissuing from- a sepulchre. (I give -fi'^i^l^'iui^e. because "whited sepulchre" apy spears father an appropriate epithet for the yY^|»ter6f^reeii:Qake.) 'Yt,;:>Bi*t to return; y > l_ii Ca*_dichael said in a solemn voice, '^oyceir- since you must be called Joyce, , -^pui'oh your hat, and I will show you the new kitchen-garden." X:7 i Joyce put on her hat, but with small exbf seeing the new kitchen-garden. r She felt intuitively that Mr. Carmichael had some other motive for asking her to accompany him. she had been longer at Greett Oake she found put that Mr. Car- . xnichaeihad a prejudice in favour of ostensible reasons. As she expected, the new kitchen-garden was left to the right, and she followed her companion to the willow-walk by the river- • side. There he motioned her to sit down. She sat down, and Mr. Carmichael, sitting beside her, delivered, in the reciting .manner ofthe previous evening, the following speech:— "I am-this evening expecting my niece. Miss Carmichael. She is the daughter of a sister of mine, who mamed a cotisin. This accounts for the similarity of name. Her father : died , when she was an infant, and owing to some family quarrel, I never saw her mother: again. Indeed, I had lost sight of her, and supposed her dead, But this was not the case; she died only about a month ago in a remote village in the south of England, and on her death-bed wrote a letter, to me, committing her daughter to my charge." , Here Mr. Carmichael paused, and passed his hand across his forehead, as though he were trying to remember what came next. After a moment he proceeded, "My sister's means being limited, she cooid. giro itm fid no airaatagm s*f s&ma- ', • tion, 'll now irah to make up for this, and yet Ido not care to send her to school. I must bave my only relative with me," he sighed. "An only relative is too precious to part with." observed Joyce drily. Mr. Carmichael looked up quickly ; then he continued, in the same measured tone, s', You are -right, Joyce — sometimes. It y; depends, upon, the measure of gratitude that '-•' one meets with." Was. this intended as a cut? If so, it fell unheeded. •>I wish.np one," Mr. Carmichael went on, j ** to do, aservice for me without emolument. I shall, therefore, pay you a certain stipend annually for superintending the futureieducationofmy niece. This will enable you to feel more independent than you. might otherwise do." Joyce felt obliged to him for that, at any rate, and she told him so. Then she waited to hear what further he might have to say, for there was evidently something more to come. . . Mr. Carmichael coughed once or twice, gave, a prefatory hem, and again resumed hisspeebh; 1" I wish to mention one other point. I have lately discovered my niece is heiress to a large property, now illegally held by others.; Illegally, illegally," he repeated; " in unworthy hands, from which it must be wrested, unless it be given up with a good grace, which it never will be. But," said he, almost in a whisper, "secresy as to means and movements is necessary for some time, in order that I may carry out all my arrangements. - Therefore, at present, I merely give out that Miss Carmichael is an heiress. I think you now understand the position of affairs. You. are said to be a clever girl, Joyce, and you have, I know, received great advantages in your education, greater perhaps than your father was warranted in giving you. But that is a thing ofthe past. Let me beg of you to turn them to account now, and so render yourself independent in some degree whilst you are under my roof.". _ The colour rushed into Joyce Dormer's face as Mr. Carmichael concluded his oration, and an angry* answer was rising, but the girl had a strong will. She had made a resolve the night before, and she determined to carry it out. She would stay for a time at any rate ; she mastered her indignation, and remained quietly for any further remarks that Mr. Carmichael might desire to make. Apparently he hf.d come to an end ofhis recitations, for he was silent. " Is there anything else you wish to say ?" asked Joyce, at last. " Nothing," replied Mr. Carmichael. " I have explained the matter as far as it is necessary to explain it." " Yes," returned Joyce, though she had a vague sense that were was something unsatisfactory that she could neither define nor fathom. "And you understand the part you have to take :" "Perfectly. How old is Miss Carmichael'?" " About eighteen." "Will she care to continue, her education ?" asked Joyce. -•':'" Under my roof," replied Mr. Carmichael, authoritatively, " people have no will of their own." Certainly Mrs. Carmichael had none, but whether Mr. Carmichael would find ifc to be the case with his new inmates remained to be proved. " Then there is nothing else for me to hear?" '■' "No, you can go and make yourself useful to your aunt ; Ido not like idle people." Joyce went to Mrs. Carmichael ; but Mrs. Carmichael, in spite of her husband's dislike to idle people, had very little to do. ~ No responsibility being allowed to rest upqh her, the poor, woman was obliged, out of sheer necessity, to spend her days in . idleness," but, as her fingers .were always moving upon some piece of -work or other, Mr. Carmichael conceived . ihat she was fulfilling the destiny of woman. . > The work she was engaged upon now "was a set of knitted counterpanes and toilet ; ( covers for every room in the house ; some were of very elaborate patterns, and there "was Something quite touching in the patient , ;, air with which she daily sat down to her . self-imposed task. wiWJt^*^v--.*'B^*": w^ e »" said Mrs. Caryjm^aelV her niece, "beforel could think y •;; pf&lphg piece of work, but I've found one yl^^^y'/; . ;: ' / ' ';' -y yy^y|^ said J y vj Joyceiy yyi X y * "yyyy.'X' ',- I " , ||||||P^ ; Ifgl^^^^g^^p: s boh ;: il want thf m , wbat shall 7

ihe speaker that told how dreary her life must be. . ■ But Joyce replied cheerfully. " What do you think of netted curtains to all the windows, Aunt Lotty, and netted curtains to drape the French beds with?" Aunt Lotty left off knitting and looked up at Joyce with an expression of intense relief upon her countenance. "I always knew you were a clever girl, Joyce ; who but you would have thought of such a thing, and all in a moment too ? You can't think how much obliged I am to you. Ifc will be work for years. I knew you would be a comfort to me." And whether it was the prospect of having something to do for some' time to come, or whether it was that Joyce's conversation was more cheering to Mrs. Carmichael than what she was generally accustomed to may be Jeft as an open question ; one thing, however, was very palpable, and that was that poor Mrs, Carmichael had not spent so pleasant a morning for many a day as the one she was now enjoying with her niece in the baywindow. And Joyce looked out pn the close-shaven lawn and the flower-beds, where the last of the crimson roses were blooming amidst the heliotropes and scarlet geraniums. She was idle according to Mr. Carmichael's definition of the word, and yet she. was busy doing a work that he had neglected,