GWEN.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume XXVI, Issue 8945, 11 April 1891, Page 6

GWEN.

(By the author off' Suspicion," #c) The boats lay quite still iv the harbour. Not a wave broke ovet the Sandy bar' add the waters within were undisturbed by a ripple, and reflected tho dark hulls and the tall masts and rigHlnj; tin in a mirror. , It was only a small harbonr giving an oil or age to a few pleasure yachts and fishing boats ; and was completely shut in by the great rugged Welsh bills, with their high cloud-cupped peaks and great grim slopes gorse and heather clothed, giving ' them ]he appearance of a brilliantly patterned carpet, upon which the sunlight painted gorgeous colours, ever changing, ever shifting, and' OVer which the clouds passed rapidly in longdark shadows. ' •' • ' ' ' It waS'exquisite scenery, a beautiful panorama. The lover of nature whodelights to sco her olothedih her moat perfect garment, feasted his eyes upon it and nrver tired. The careworn toiler of the town settled there' fir his holiday, renewing bia health and strength again; and learning too something more 6f hii Maker in the contemplation of' his Maker's handiwork. And' there the artist endeavoured to portray unoft his canvas an imnpe of ' what' his eyes beheld, always falling fir short : of the' grand original no matter 1 who the printer was. No pencil can trace Nature's outline corrootly, no brush oan paint her clothing In all Its beauty. • "'■' To-day all was still, the wind hushed, the water motionless in the harbour, and even outside the bar the great oooan Jay in a peaceful calm,' sunltr, and full of colour, of gold and silver, of blues; aud greys, and greens in every vbade. ■ " If I conld only dip toy brn«h' into suoh colours as tlioao yonder, and paint them hero," sighed the artist almost' despairingly, as ho surveyed 1 his half finished picture with a critical eye. YOB the pioture wan a good one, showing the hand ef a master. The harbour, the boats, the fitill 1 water, thegreat hills, all were ' there ' upon the 1 canvas, porhapa as perfect ft a art could gqt them. And iuthe foreground was' the figure- of a girl, a graceful figura,f nil of life, sketched in perhaps with more detail than was absolutely necessary to the pioture. Tho artißt looked nt his' work, with his head slightly on one side, for some time. "It will do," ho Bald presently. "Yo», It will do. Heigh-ho! I wish G«ren would come. She is late." And lbi»n he went to work again, touching tho picture lightly hero and there, CMeful of every stroke of his brush, kopn for every arailablo effect. He evidently loved his work. His whole mind was in it, his very soul. Ho was a good looking follow, not handsome emotly, and not ' particularly young ; but his was a very pleasiug faoo nevertbeleaa. Ilia blue eyes »«ro hones', and his smilo a genuino one. Tliero wai besides coneidorable fores of obaraot'er in liis countenance, and his moustaohb and short pointed board could not hide tho determination of his mtfnlh. A man tn lovoP Perhaps. A man to fonrfIltrdly. A man to trust? Yosgio tho death. " How protty ! " said n voice behind him. The artiot started. " You startled .mQ Gwpq. . How quietly yon came." ' '' I h.iva been siandih.! behind y-^u for a tninutt),.nenrly., I wjsli I conld paint, like that;"' •' J . y ' f . i i- " Do you ? " "Yes. I could paint you then, jnat ns you have painted mo hore." And she puintod to tho figure upon tho canvas. • • - s - • i >■ ■ ■ " It is not liko you Gtffin, not half pretty enough. If you could only sco yourself as I soo you, you- would, kno>v how bad it is." - '' ' ' ' ' Philip Deuiion was right. Tho figure in the picture did not do jubtico to the girl standing benido him. She was perfect. The artist had looked at her oftpn, haJ tried to find v fault in her, and lied Tailed. A faco, fair ami simple, a figure of exquiiiito symmetry, her every movement full of grace, herself quite unconscious of her charms Bnd so, innocently, adding to them. Ym, slio whs perfect. Pliilip had cnuict to this conclusion days before hp came to tlmt othec.oonolusion which had made him think anxiously and seriously ever since •. . Ho loved her ; not wiih thai frothy psision which- often suddenly attacks thoso who are living insoHii-idloticss, nnd which m us vi,on forgotten'; but with that dosp and iutenae .narnostnoss which comes from the hvart of a man who hufl- known tho world for years, mixed in its follies, nnd participated ia soina of its triumphs : and who yet hi* never known whit it is to feel a quicker pulse at the approach of any woman before. Ho had not come to this conclusion suddenly. It Mad gronn upon him steadily day by day, since tho firnt moment he. had soon hit protty companion and- had persuaded her to let him put hor iv his pioture. At first he endeavoured to explain away hia feolinga, to treat them lightly, to laugh at hinißclf for this foolish faney — but in v&in. Men like Philip Dbiiison »ro«ot given t» having foolish fancies. When love couios to tui'in, it- cmiieu once aud ttays for over. But Philip hod remained silent. He was tho ualy von of Sir Cuthbert Denison, a wealthy man and a proud nno, who contemplated gro*t things for his sou. Hh would be rich, ho must therefore make a great match nnd lift the Denisona higher up the Rooisl ladderThosu ideas had not been kept secret from Philip, indeed they were constantly being iustillud into his uaiiid, and until now ho hud nevi'P had any d..tire to cross his failnT'a niihct. Now it was i different, and it nas no wouder that his portion should give him causo for very eerious reileoiioiii ■ ■ Gwen GridithH was tho daughter c.f tjio prupriutor >if tho Oora-y.Geiiol,' tbc inn where Philip was Rtaying,- hardly, the kiud of match Sir Culhbort wtuld doi>iri> for his> son. - SUo was sweet and ggod Philip kuew, but her parents were certainly not gentlefolk, and she wat not too well educated, "It is a chuice between love aud duty," ho said to , himself " and yet my duty is not vorj oloatly^ defined. I nm a man grown aud I am not sure that my real duty is not towards dear Gwon." Philip did little more work that afternoon. He held his brushes It is true, aud mixed his colours at interval*, but he was principally cngagod in admiring mid tnlking to tlio girl bit,ting in n graceful attitude at liis fu«t. " And to you wish you could paint Gwen, do you I" ho said presently, • " Oh do much ! " " I'eriiapa I shall bo abio to teach you some day. It will bo in return to you for teaching me Welsh you know." " I hopo I shall learn more quiokjy than you do." ' "That is unklt.d," Philip returned. "Welsh in not easy lohruim>, I can assure you." So they laughed and talked, and Philip wondered, as ho looked at his cumpanioD, if she guessed how much he loved her. At last he closed his paint-box, and begun to pack np hia things. ' '' Enough work for to.day, Gweo," he uaiil. " Lot us take tlicsp- thing-) homo and go for a walk." " Yes. I will help you to carry some of them." Tbey went back to tho inn, and having left the things tho.o, walked qujetjy {hrougtj tli? yiiiage and up the

mountain pith, which, had' (torn long since been .called the. lovers' walk. Indeed it was rightly named. The trees .hung over the narrow . way. in • profuse foliage, the, ferns in great variety .and abuntjanoe flourished on the side banks, and' here and there were panoraimo peeps' of tbe'^motjntaiu and thoha;bour..' Many A tale, of loyo had been told, thore' doub'tleßS, and in that narrow phtdy P.sth, ; ? many fa, villago maiden had, given her'pro'miso to become, a wife." . " „. ' ' . ' Philip and Gwe'n walked on, aide by ( aide for go in a time, in iilorice. "Do ypu^know;, how lopfj IMye.been. •here, Gwen ? " he asked,,- suddenly. ■ "No."- „ . \" . . ■ , ..... . ; - . " More than six,wee,kß." , , ; .. . ."Is^tsoloDgr 1 . '„ - ,• „ „„„ .:■."%. shall. . soon have tq go," Philip continued, throwing . away bis halt finished cigar " An,idle.life,is,nogood. to anybody. ', ... . . • . " But you havon't finished the picture yet." . ' . .'....'..."<-" , „"; l ifo.t .quite; but another, day, qr, two ,will ,sep it cqrapleted. . ghallyou be sorry wheu .1 am none ?" . „ ■ ; , , "Yes..; t shaft have no ..one to tsaoh Welsh t ( o, then," > ,' i "..»,!. . "You ponld nndj.gomp, ono else., tp i teach. There aro"-. plenty „oF fellpwj,. staying in. tjie village. who would be. I. only to glad, to learnt— of you." ., ..Gweii did not ajiswer- '.''•-. „' . t ,i „ "I don't : " want to' gPi ; Gweii,:'. '"Sia. -Philip. '/ You hare ,made my .stay here . ve.ry pleasant." , " I have ! How P " ' .'•' us sit down for a littlq while," hesaid. " I want to talk to you." , They had come to a secluded part of the walk, where a bench had beon let in to to the mossy ..bank. Gwen. p*H ,down, littloknowlngwhat her companion wanted to say to her, and Philip sat ■ besido her ip silence, for a tjine. Dlayjug thoughtfully with the ribbons whioh hupp from her wajst. , .■■*.. .."Ihavo no sisters, Gweji," ho said,', suddenly. " I never had any. T 'wish I had one like, you." ■' "I shall certainly never be. your siator," "she returned, .with a quaint little look, 'tfbioh might at most "bo one,' ofaisappointment at tho impossibility. . Philifi let the ribbons drop from. his fingers, and laid his' hand on hers.' " You . might be something dearer than a sister, Gwen," he said, hurriedly. "Ono> man lovea far better thafl^a Bistor— ray wife, Gwen." ..,:•> . She drow baok from him startled. . • "I love you, dear, with alVmy heart. . Will jou be my. wife ? " ,'.. .< . „ ,. „ She djd not answer immediately,. but. there was a great joy .in tier .soul, for, although she had navcr dared to confess, it to herself , . she know • that- she had loved hirii almoßt frcm the first moment aho had seen him. _ .■>..- - < Then she turtod to i.itn. "I mustn't." ' , ;-• „'<Whyf' „ „ ' , .... > " M&Dcnrsbn.ybu forget Wfl o I am -" < "No, Gwen, Ido not. You , are. the ..dearest, sweetest little woman I have e v oY known, far too gooi for me. I»m only' worthy vl you .because I love you so niubh." . . " But I am only a poor girl, not your equal at all. I must not mirry you and when you have gone away yu will ble« mo for telling, jou so. Thy, time would come wheo you would regret having mo always near you. 1 ' . "Never, Gwen. 1 ainjiot gpjog to let you go with an' answer like him. Tell me. Do yr.u love me ? " Ife tvj-^aterl the qaf.viin.Mnny times before'becoidd niake hVr. answer. ,r i-VYes, I do,"»h9 "said lll last, ".but " Then I am perfectly hsppy," Philip said ; And in spite of all ehtt could say, in spisO of all her ergoments, he made her prsuiise to be his wise. , ... . '•' 'Mr Griffiths, of the Cors-y-Gedo), and hi« wito worn delighted nt their d<iQgh. tor's coo.l fortune,, and Phi;ip bad no difficulty in obtaining their, consent. Bo had been a favonrito wiih.,tha old peoplo all along, aud. >hey could find nc possible objection to having their lodgei for a son-in-law. " Tho lass is hoky," said Mr Griffiths to hU wifu in (.rival.:- "We c^nldn'l hare fouud such A husband for her jrj f thi village, wife." .And Mrs Griffith! . notld.ed her head and quite agroed with „ him. j It was not difficult, cither, to obtaiu , their consent . wh*m Philip suggested i thnt tho inarriugo should take plao^.al ] once. There was.no need for. ftloug waiting ho told them. .' 1 ' ■ , . So one morning when the air was full [, of the scent of the heather and the i<orst\ and tho great mountains were I bathed in .goldon Bunohiu?, and .uijture s worn her most brilliant rotjetjond s'mj^eq , hur sweetest; tho lutlo weddiqg jpally went up to the church which was almost ( biddeo by the larches and pinc3 upon 8 the hill-aide, and Philip and Gs»en were r made man and wife, i They were happy da.ys thoso first days , of murricd life, full of -golden hopo?, i now born ; and tho sweet : 'iU*)t of l»ve t made perfect and never tasted?, )*6<ps. ■ The time passed like a, plca^aot dre^m, t and the bright world s-cmod mada for 3 .them alone to onjoy, and the sunshine . and the warmth especially for them to i revel in, , Philip eaid no more of going away. t Ho took a liUio cottage in tho village, a i picturopqito coUmjo wiili a garden around 1 it full of old faahiooed iluwers ; and he was siipromely happy. Souiotiaef he took up his brushes and opened his t paint-box, but progross was oven slower | now thnn befoio, ■ They had so- much to ■ talk about, and his wift-'u pretty lips t wore so often raised to his ti> be kissed, t But tho pnradisn (hey had made for ■ themselvcawassuddenly rudely intruded t upon by a telearam. whioh' informed ' Philip that his father wus dying, and I that Ke must coiuo homo at onca. ) It was only uuorrtho receipt of this i n«wa that Philip told oh wife whav his i position in tho world would be. in the future that when his father died he would be a baronet, anii owner of one ' of tho n'chest estates in the midlands. G jvtiu rt proHohed him"a little for not telling her beforp, but her husband put luk ■ arniH round her and kiajcd her •repronulifnl l«oks away, • ■ "You would Invu refused mo absolutely tlkii, du'ir," he e»id, " You hod so •many fuulish fancies in. this protty.hn.id of yours when I uskud )ou to marry me." Pmlip was of courso obliged to go to his father, .but. ho did not ltko -leaving his wifu behind him. She \vna.ndt very stror.it jubt then, and ho could hnrdiy take her homo without first telling hia father of his marriage, . aud ho judged by the telegram that ho was too ill to be told at , prosunt. Su ho decided to leave her in. her .nv-ther's cure uutiK ever^thiug weii settled. "1 will wntu to- you oonßtantly durlinp," he snid.. . " You. will not fret, will you. It will not bo -fur long, you know? " . -. ' „- ■ „, ,- ■ A parting whloh was painfully sweat, many tcarß ntjd muny kisses, nod. then Given wag left alono. . . - - The days seemed much longer now, but blio was ,not altogether unhappy. Puilip wrote hpr such long letters, whioh clip read over and over again until- she knew them by huarfc. tlis father whs very ill, bo said, in tho first lot tor, aad there wa} littlu hope of hia recovery. .. So the days grow -iatu. weeks, and then a ternblo feir canie into poor Gwen'u heart. Her hnaband's lastleiter was now » week old, ho hud never kept hur waiting ho long before. Two weeks .passed, three, a- mouth, and still no letter. Poor Gwen was almost distracted, and all her mother could say to comfort her was in vain. She grew jpftjer. »i4soft ABH9US erory „

;.. ' _ .., ; ; ; ~ 7~~~. ■ ■ i va i There .wore ,a good many, paoplo Vh -i - tho village wlio had alwayß been jealou*, ;• of;Gwen Griffiths, which jealouoy was;.,,, increased by her successful marriage- '\- They had laughed at her when they, saw ..-^ how constantly she was Philip Denison «• , companion In his sketohing toure, antir , had not aqrapled to suKgest that he, was ■■> , only amußlng . himself, with her, annt ,^ would forget all about her when.he,h^a r , B t gone away. These, busybodiea -fcp.r«<>« surprised ,at her. marriage,, and P ; silenced, too. It was one thing- to lauga „i! ,at Gwen Griffiths, it was quite another ,i. t matter to laugh at Philip DenjsonjSV^ *»lfe. No^ again, they .had. food Jo/.b, nukipd gossip.. She wjß.«lc|i.exp%otTßpSi j husb'/iiiii. in vain they whispered.^ KKb.,q b ., i dottbV he had,' wearied of her, aad wopla f .„, cover come bao.k. . . .j'>.;j - r t<l . Gwen '.'knew 'better. These topr^., , comments hurt her little, for Bhoknew VJ .I "her husband too well to doubt Mm for., , a.moment, so. well indeed tha^;. it caused., her the more anxiety. .'.Qoul,d , he „ba SJ ... dead? No one in fits circle .of , friends. . t would know, of h.er existence ; anutb.el.e- Vv < fore no one could write and tell her or „ '. u *' Osrao ' baet J to >c, '^\^ h %ii,l J murmured constantly to herself^ /y°V#tmfv ..back m^. dariin^spdn. I.oannp^j.o^.-I ;,. )t cannot live long without you! " '■„ . ■ „? ■• ;u At last, after nearly three, monyis,.^,^ terrible suspense, a letter came.- It was . . ,addroseed In Philip's well known hand- » ; .Writing, and she tore, it ppenjwita. bonds,,' and, as. she 'read;, a t y t ,'gre|ttwave oi'thankfaluessroseup^rom -_ ?7r her; sin]'. .''Afr'w'os' explained at'.onoe.. „„, Philip's tathot had died spjn after ; Bhe.,, ,.,, had, re'peiv;eil the' last; letter, but.»iiUffl . jn) then ho himself ha.cl b.een seriQUsly. w lasA - 4 Btruok. down suddenly, I " and been.a^^. ., deathVappr, he fold her.., "^ . ■>•.-,»' ".But ap" not h* anxious, little tfotnjin^ .. io added: , ''T aui^near)^ w«JJ- ISS^M The d'oij'tor has' ordered me a s;ea voy^ei ; (V .. sT '»nd:as a'frjemi of mine is sta'rtin|, from y,,,, Hull to. make'd tfjp "tojind"' ine.pottst,, .f,,.,.^ have 'soiled "the opportunity,' 'wia flnv. ; V ',l going with himfi WeVfart \n todays, 4 . ,i time, and almost before you" are -rea'dy,,^, n for me I shall ba with you, and thq . Vacbt will'J)e anobored with the otjhe# boats in the harbor. I'op.so.lbni? to s§» r . ., ;; 'yop, wife, apd I wonder if ".^bU t wi^l <• , thiuk, lesa of me now I Baye gpji'a, 'Sir v ; , „ before iay name. ' ( I shall ba|l yon^afty !tl^. ' GVen In f uturp." ' , .- ; r ,-,u -„,,i .;. Poor little 'Gwen'!.,. How^daigWedj-, l<0 » she Was. "The days Were sljtl lpng r)| but- M> , t^ey were free from anxiety, and ejerj d „,| hbur v^jiiph passed, fought' her husband,,,: i nearer jtolieri '," ,'. '•'.; ■ . \.. ,'.. ■ % . ■ .?/ '.. Ooris^antly'shewehtup Oie^mo^ntaia,, , - ;- path, and chose a.jlaoe'to sitjowhere „,.; sVe ;c6nld ottain a good view . of, the biarbor and ihe gre,a,t poeau',-Ijeypnd.,}/-She must be'wafthin^ M Him when he „ o&me. ,'.' • , ■,■,"';.., j „ ».ii-A, '"■ phe evening, when 1 thJ.'sJcy.Wa^jblaqSj ...>. and angry and l^igMaUwrtjr! raonn|ain,»,. l , J . JI frowned pver'tlie harb'or > ''w l h^ttte;wfnd i m;)i roared fi6rcaly,,ainori gst .th"e *larcbe' s and ; . } the spines, and great .'wayes. broke in .".'^i oruel ipixa over tn'e BoY, .Gwen'Vent^-,, down lo^tVe sands. Bome'power' w^hin. j , her, shecorold not tell whatj'm'ado -bgr . !;V , go. He* would onm*"b'aok to'^er to-,.... night, she knew he would. '•. - : j "A bid night at sea, Mistrees Gwen," saidone of the ffSßeVmVn* iJ wfio"iaV her.-' - " 'Ti«," she said, lookingrtowards the dim'oc an rolling in its angry and foambeaten waves towards the shore. Surely t'uat was a sail out beyond tha,,- •» b»r4-a small vessel laboring^ with, $l% wind. ' , , -;„.,,-* -•;«.:* She pointed it out to. the fisherman, ? , ... Hi> looked for,, some minutes _jn the , JirectfQn'gh^ indi^aXed. '. ,' lf .. _-''„ „''• Yea* It'i.a sn>all croft" making iai^',. the harqor. Heaven .grant *t^e]Tkn6w . j- the right. course to steer, or they'll never , , get safely over the bar to-njght." ''„;„'. I i On'camb the little vessel,., and the \, K wind roared' louder* aod the sea, rolled. „„ j higher, and the harbor bar .made its ,, cruel and hungry noaniog. t'. ■ .., , , ,. *■ Many ushurcuen'n.ad colleoted, gn the,'^ ' sauds now, for the .little vea.se] seemed V toboindistrew^i>dquiteufMianageable., '.' • ' Gwen stood waiciiiin'g it in.'-atpny „., silence. He w.as there, «h? kjae.w it. x .'.^, There was.a sudden' shout from" tjw, ,^ fishermen, a hurried rush along', tjig,,,, . sands. Th-i wave> broko p^er.,the b»r X '"., ' but no vtsuel came in^o toe smoother j . • waters of ; the Jiarbor'. ...,.../.„. '.^•^.i. "« ' " She's' gone! '.' eiolaimgd pne of jthe,.,'^ men. ' . ""'. '-■ »• . ; .^ r ; ' , " Gwen followed them like one. in, a ..^."j I dream. A broken spar was flung onthe ,-', . sauds boßideri her, a, ooil of rop?, and, '- _ thena'blaok mass was played with b. j; . , • the waves for a few .moments',' anil th'eu „^ ■ this, too, was leftsiill and motionless at,. .; herfeet ' ..... ,-,. „ „',-,! " Mistress Gwen, won't you go home»^'., ' , 8 said a voice in her 'ear, , __ „,' si \_ ''''."...^ I ' The kindly fiihbnhan tried to ; proven^ [~ ■ her looking at'th'6 lifeloss'.heap,' but she: . i>: I pusbod him back and fell on her knees' , c b'e'pdo'it," ' :; ' ' ' .' . ,; " ,' 1 " Philip 1 ' Phiiipl". she cried out > .;/ p despair; , ; ' •". ••'•.'.■ - '' Go home, Mistress Gwen, go home." '. 9 Bhe tookno, nutico.of the nsherm^n'a ,r \ • , words. She only looked into the lifeless; „ } : faoo of tlie man lying there. -She only ■ ( ffnew that, her hußband had pome baofc ,'; • to her. She only knew that Its was dead:, ! And thfcn she fell forword aorosß the .'„ 3 body, and lay there quite stilli ' ' ' '" ~" " ) « ••/ ' •*- -• •■ ; " ♦"•>•■■.•■•'•■. ' ' There is a hush in the OorS-y-Gedol ' • inn. The r inmates walk about . f?ith'.." „ 1 stealthy steps, for poor Gwen lies' up- ,'.' ' stairs in her last long sleep, and on her ' ' breast is the imall white faoo of her doad ", » baby. ■* ' ' ; ','.''-". i i ■■*'■■# '■• * "#■■ ; : In a qniet nook in the little ohuroh- > yard amungst the hills there is a marble ' oross, and on It is written— .'.''. > " Saored to the memory of Sir Philip • Douison and Gwen, his wife ; and their I infant child.!' 1 • - ■ '• ' • ' :