MORE ABOUT MISRULE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 12055, 27 August 1902, Page 3

MORE ABOUT MISRULE.

' BY. ETHEL TURNER, Author of "Seven Little Australians," Family at Misrule," etc.

; ;; CHAPTER XV. • ; , 'I " • J'ROJC ■the' WINDOW. , A little since and I was glad, and now I never shall be glad or sad again. A cold, blustering day. Misrule's trees tossed their branches restlessly, the grass was strewn with dead leaves and blown rosepetals, the river was silver-grey and ruffled all over with little vexed waves. Overhead stretched a dull.sky with scudding clouds. Esther had gone to town, and reluctantly enough when she looked at the wind, but she had an appointment with the photographer, that, might not be put off. Mrs. Hassal's birthday was approaching, and a large counterfeit presentment of her small children was to be . Esthers present. So Peter was inducted into his short, fawn, overcoat over his best sailor suit, and adjured to pull up his high , socks and attend to the neat lacing of his best boots. And over Essie's white.., muslin was put her, warm pelisse of white velveteen and fur, and on her feet white shoes and socks, and a white furry bonnet on her brown curls. Nellie had dressed her, and combed out those curls that they, might show to best effect in the photograph. i She made a suggestion 01* two to Esther as she put finishing touches. •" I think I'd only have head and shoulders," she said — " the two leaning together, and then have it cut medallion shape." • Esther looked doubtful. "It would look nice and artistic," .she said, "-but then you know mother is never satisfied unless she can see all of them, legs and arms and all, so she can judge how they are growing." "Tell you," said Peter; "me holding a gun could take it with me, Buntv's gun, needn't have any cartridges in—l could be pretending to shoot'—grandma would like that."

"And me," said Essie, jealously, "me holding one end of the gun." . . Esther declined the suggestion gently. "Well, tell you," said Peter " we could pretend to be playing . circus—me bending down and Essie standing on my back—that would amuse grandma a lot." " Oh,, yes, let's," said Essie, and hopped round ' the room' with one white-shod foot caught in her hand to show her exuberance of admiration at the suggestion. " Only you always tip over, you're such a duffer," said Peter. "I don't," said Essie,'indignantly, "it's your fault, you don't bendle your back down enough." ; " Jack* doesn't tip over," said Peter, " only silly girls." . "He does—he would,", said Essie, ''he's a nasty, horrid boy." : But "the bonnet-strings are tied by this, and Peter's sailor cap stuck on, and Esther's lost gloves found, and her purse put in her hand. And down the stairs the three all hastened, and helter-skelter down the drive, and with very little more dignity on Esther's par<t down the red road, for had not Poppet rushed from the staircase window shouting that the boat T was coining round the bend. : Now the house was settling down quietly once more after the breeze. Bunty went off to the. laundry—it was Saturday morn—a tin of metal paste in his hand, to give his bicycle a " good old clean." He adjured Poppet to come and do the same by hers. "In a minute," said Popper, who was curled' up in the broad window-seat of the drawing-roam with The Daisy Chain. "You will do no such tiling," said Nellie. " Esther said you were to be sure to do your practice. You know Miss Burton will be here at twelve, to give you that music lesson you missed." " Oh, bother," said Poppet. . But she rose up and drifted gradually, reading as she went, to the piano., And here she sat down, put the open book on the music-holder, and played hei scales, major and minor and chromatic, one after the other, the while she read absorbedly. Nell stood at her vacated place in the wide window and looked out at the waving trees and the dull river.

What should she do this morning? Oh yes, of course there was the stocking-bag to be attacked, and tire vases wanted doing, and Esther had asked her to label a trayful of bottles of. tomato sauce, and Martha would need telling what puddings to make for dinner, since Esther had gone off in a. hurry without leaving any orders. But how dull all these things seemed, dull as the river, the sky, the gum \ trees. Oh, what a dull, dull -old thing was life altogether—every day the same, getting up and having meals', helping with the young ones, going to little gaieties, or staying at home and reading! } Reading—what if she got a book like Poppet? Her mind ran languidly over the books in the —nothing new. What if she turned Poppet off the musicstool— would go nnthsuikfully— get out her music? Nothing new" there, all the old pieces, old songs. "A great deal you have to grumble at," said a voice in her heart. " Think of some girls' lots. You ought to bo ashamed of vmu-self." . - " So I am," she answered it; " still all the same everything is deadly dull." "You know it's not that," said the voice, " all is the same as it always was. It is you who are altering." "Well, I suppose it is," she said, "I am growing old—l am nineteen." "You know it's not that," said the stern voice; "the real reason, —" She shrank from it. " No,, no, don't say it," she said.

.'• It is; you'd better face it at once ; you've refused to look it in the face for too long.; The real reason is—"

" Oh no, no," she said, piteousry, " I've forgotten all about it. If I met him, I shouldn't even change colour—l don't care one atom, one atom, I—l think I absolutely dislike him." "Well, why are you letting it change you?" : » Oh, oh," wildly, " wouldn't any girl? To have let oneself care, even only a bit, a tiny bit, and to have thought he meant it; but, oh yes, he did lookah, he shouldn't have looked like that, and held my hand— oh. to think I let him hold it": no I didn't, I didn't, I took it away, I did truly, as soon as I could, or— or almost as soon. And perhaps he imagined I did care, and he laughed." Over and over the miserable little affair she went. That was the canker, the horrid spot on her sore young spirit. A man had treat--ed her as a plaything and she had not had sense enough or dignity enough to see it; instead she had given away unasked —what? Not her heart, that was sound enough yet, but a bundle of girlish emotions and pretty trust and romanticism that she took to be her heart.

She had climbed her stiff bit of hill when she came to it bravely enough, but now she was over the brow "of it, and had foughtthrough the thorns no one would ever know how wretchedly flat, stale, and unprofitable stretched out all the level road once more.

What a frightful discord Poppet was making ! Left- hand and right hand, left so entirely to themselves, had started off on entirely different journeys. Poppet's eyes glanced absorbedly up and down the book in front of her ; "every minute or two the right baud left its treadmill to flutter a page over and then hastened back to catch up tne left as well as might be. "I ought to stop her," said the conscience at the window : "if I were a- proper eldestsister—like Meg or girls in books— should go and take her book away, and. sit down beside her and hear her practise properly." "Well, why don't you?" said conscience number two. ;

"Oh, what's the use. she would only argue— I hate arguments.".""'. . A lazy, self-centred creature, that's what you're growing to be. A love-sick , little idiot such as you'd despise in a- book. Why can't you brace yourself up a. bit and look life in the face again boldly?" "Love-sick! What a horrible, horrible thing to say! —I'm not, I'm not —he's no more to me than a stoue."

"Well, brace yourself. up and stop being cowardly." "Poppet, Poppet, put that, book away at once—what a thing to do ! You are making a frighful 'jungle. Do practise properly." "I am. I'm doing my scales. She told me to practise them ten times each," said Poppet. '. "Not without looking at them." " It's good practise, I might be blind some day." ',■-'.

" "Put that book away, Poppet, till this afternoon." ' ■

" Just another chapter— it's dreadful— they've" all, got' scarlet fever, and Leonard is catching it, and—and—" " What in the world is she doing?" said Nell, 'an almost startled tone suddenly in her voice. *.

■•" What is who doing?" " Why, Lylie—well, I can hardly believe my eyes." "The Daisy Chain came tumbling with ft crash on the keys, and Poppet sprang across the room to the window where her sister stood. Lylie: Lylie! what could there be connected with her this quiet Saturday morning? ' Then her eyes went round as Nellie's, her mouth opened in amaze and forgot to close again. There was Lylie climbing over the fence and dancing over their grass—the plain, sober grass of Misruleit was no hallucination. Lylie in a white cashmere frock, with her nimbus of pale, gold hair around her head, and no hat on at all. What was she doing now? Walking right on the flowerbeds and gathering and dragging at the flowers till her arms were full; throwing the blossoms down and dragging more; pulling the plants up by the roots and flinging them aside ; breaking the roses.off by their heads and tossing them in the air! : Poppet drew a deep breath and caught at Nellie's 'sleeve." " I'm only dreaming, I know." she muttered. ; ; ._--'. """* Online! on need the little white figure. There was Essie's kitten asleep under the marguerite bush, ite' favourite spot. She caught the trustful little animal up by the tail, swung it up; and down, and finally flung it as far as she could in the air, watching it .turn over and touch the ground, and creep away dazed and subdued, with peals of laughter. ' At the foot of a path was a heap of dried leaves and rubbish that Bunty had raked up to burn, but finding the wind so strong ' had laid his matches down for a future hour.

The astonished watchers in the window could not see the matches, only the child stooping for a moment over the heap. The next second up .shot a pale tongue of flame —the heap caught and crackled. "Good heavens Nell cried sharply, and pushed agitatedly to raise the sash of the long window that she might rush out— "Her frock will catch."

Round and round the blaze danced the white figure, moving its arms joyously. Nellie had the window up now and was dashing outit only seemed to both of them one minute since they had seen the 'child climbing across the. fence. Then a scream of frightful horror broke from Poppet. v It was no longer a white figure that danced ; the pinafore had caught, and blazing from head to foot the child rushed madly across the long stretch of grass shrieking and stretching her arms towards Nellie, who was rushing down to '.her.'.-.

(To he contained daily.)