TALES & SKETCHES.
SUNLIGHT AND SHADOWS.
By L.J.S.
Author of “In Many Lands,” “ Comsbro Hall,” “ Geoffrey Penryth,” “ New Zealand Sketches,” &c., &c., &c. CHAPTER IV. love’s young dream. Stanley Daneford, was a young man of a highly impressionable nature, with a considerable talent for painting. . Still he was too fond of dabbling a little in all kinds of art, to devote himself exclusively to one. He cared too much for a life of change and adventure, ever to settle down to steady, continuous work; it followed, therefore, that his artistic talent was frittered away, and his career spoiled by his wilful and ungovernable fancy, and his utter want of steadfastness to a given object or pursuit. Fortunately for himself, he possessed a small income, which, just sufficed to supply the actual needs of the wandering Bohemian life he loved to follow. Some weeks had now elapsed, and the young painter had become a constant, and ever-welcome visitor at Villa Contrucini. With Julia’s mother, he was from their very first interview, a great favorite, to Julia’s intense satisfaction and delight. It turned out, however, that he was not in any way related to the Caroline Daneford, who was at one time Marie Contrucini’s schoolfriend. He was, as he jestingly remarked, * a lonely wanderer on the face of the earth for his parents were both dead, and he had neither brothers or sisters, nor kith or kin of any degree, so he averred. So time wore on, and they became accustomed to his visits which were almost of daily occurrence, and Marie Contrucini did not fail to mark the growing intimacy between the young people, nor did she look upon it with disfavor. For it had long been her daily prayer, that her darling might in some way be safely provided for, before she was called upon to say her last farewell to the loved one. But just now, two or three days had gone by, and nothing had been seen of Stanley. He had not been near the villa, nor had Julia seen him in any of his usual haunts in the city. Mother and daughter were both amazed, and each wondered how it was, or if they had iQ any way unwittingly given him cause of offence. Poor Marie, missed the yoimg man’s pleasant, lively yet sensible conversation, and his gay insouciant ways, which seemed to brighten the old villa, and relieved the tedium of many an otherwise dull hour for the invalid. It was evening, and Julia, stepping out into the wide dim hall with soft and noiseless tread, from the room where her mother reclined on her couch, enjoying a quiet doze after their late dinner—drew a long breath of ineffable relief, as she felt the fresh night air on her burning face. And taking a light shawl in her hand, the girl glanced longingly out on the cool broad terrace and deserted garden. Should she venture forth, and leave her mother sleeping ? Surely Maddalena would attend, if she woke up suddenly. All day long Julia had been restless, and felt unable to compose her mind, or give undivided attention to her studies, and the usual routine of her daily duties. ‘ Why should I care so much, when, perhaps he cares so little V she had exclaimed angrily to herself only that afternoon, in the bitterness of her disappointment at not seeing him. She was only eighteen, and this was her first love dream. But now the golden, glaring sunlight had faded, and twilight threw its soft grey shadows over the weary sun-dried land; and with the cool dewy eventide came gentler thoughts, and brighter dreams. And now it is with parted, half-smiling lips, and tender dreamy eyes, she stands on the grassy terrace gazing into the bright expanse of sky, across which a round ‘ full orb’d moon ’ is placidly sailing, beneath whose beaming radiance lay as fair a scene as ever painter limned or poet dreamed of. For the Tiber gleams and scintillates as it rolls rapidly along. And the wide undulating plains of the fertile Campagna are bathed in the soft light, and lie unshadowed in their stillness and beauty. In front are the massive, crumbling city walls, beyond, are the great arches stretching away over the plains, and in the far distance, outlined against the clear sky are the ranges of Alban hills, and the lofty Sabine mountains. While in the grand old city itself, every temple, tower, and palace reveals to the eye some new charm of architectural loveliness in the the soft translucent light. So thought Julia Contrucini, as she stood for a moment entranced with the view, though it was one with which she had from childhood been familiar. But then, the girl possessed the eye and soul of a true artist, upon whom the beauties, and marvels of nature can never pall, or grow stale and monotonous. There is not a breath of air stirring, so calm and slumbrous it seems to-night. The earth is as still and unruffled as the dark blue sky overhead, in which countless myriads of stars glitter and sparkle with the brillance of richest gems. How pure and fair it all looks in this soft glistening light, which lends to the white statues in the garden, such a weird and ghostly appearance.
Julia wandered slowly across the terrace, and down the broad marble steps. into a shady grass-covered path, along which she bad not proceeded far, when she found herself face to face with Stanley Daneford who was walking with rapid strides in the direction of the villa, ‘Ah ! how glad I am to see you, for it seems an age since I last had that pleasure, he exclaimed warmly, taking both her little hands in his firm clasp. ‘ But you positively startled me, when you appeared so suddenly before me, robed in that pure white drapery, I was not sure whether one the statues had not come down for a stroll. . ‘ What nonsense you are talking to-night Mr Daneford,’ said Julia laughing. ‘ Shall we go in ? I left mamma asleep on her sofa,
and came out for a walir, for it looked so cool in the garden, after the sultry heat of the day.’ ‘ We will remain out here if you are agreeable,’he answered quickly. ‘ Let us go to our old seat by the fountain, it. will be delightful there. Yes, this is decidedly pleasanter than sitting in a. close room,’ he said, as they reached their favorite retreat. ‘ Don’t you think so Julia ?’ She started visibly. It was the first time he had ever called her by that name, and it sent a wild thrill of exquisite pleasure through her heart; aud a flush mounted, warmly to the dark face, making her look marvellously beautiful as she stood there before him, one arm resting lightly on the rim of the broken fountain, her lovely face half averted.
Stanley Daneford bent an admiring gaze on the slight figure, so lithe and graceful in every curve aud outline. Was there more of the mere artist’s admiration, for what appears to him—for the time—to be the very perfection of his long sought ideal, than real honest, earnest love for the woman of flesh and blood 'V Time will tell. ‘Do you know Julia, that you have draped that white shawl around you iu a style that gives a purely classical effect to your figure ?’ ‘ Does it ? Then it was quite unintentional on my part, for I have not been in the humour to study effects to-day. On the contrary, I have felt very unartistic, and my mood has not been of the serenest I can assure you.’ ‘ That was something unusual then. But what was the disturbing cause ? Was it something wrong at the studio, that upset the equanimity of your temper ? ‘No.’ ‘ Then, I hope that confounded old heathen has not taken advantage of my short absence, to pester you with his unwelcome attentions again, has he ? asked Stanley almost fiercely, for he had taken a most unreasonable dislike to the wealthy old noble, who would gladly have made Julia his wife, but the girl declined firmly to listen to his suit. ‘Count Fanelli? If he is the gentleman to whem you allude —has not favored us with a call at the villa for. some time past. I think he is offended,’ said Julia, ‘ mamma you know, rather liked him.’ And the young lady thought to herself. * How very foolish this youtg man is, to trouble his head about the poor old Count.’ . _ - * And a good thing too, if he is offended, and will keep himself out of my path. The old idiot,’ muttered Stanley. ‘ I wonder why you dislike him so V said the sly little puss smiling sweetly. *He is not half a bad sort of creature, and very
rich.’ __ ‘ Oh, of course ! Very rich ! Yes, therein lies the charm with most of your sex, he exclaimed with a shade of contempt in his tone, that was not pleasant to hear.. Now* a-days it is not love, but gold that wins.’ You do not believe then in a woman marrying a rich lover ?’ she said provokingly- * Do you really believe it to be so very wrong in every case V ... ‘ Are you asking for my candid opinion on this subject ?’ he inquired gravely. ‘ Most certainly I am. It might be useful you know,’ she was bent on teasing, but just now he would not see it. ‘ Yery well. Here it is. I hold that the woman who deliberately marries for money, is more utterly fallen, than she who leaves husband, and children, and home, to follow the man she loves through the world. TV ell, the latter sins heinously it is true; but, is she not obeying the divine—-though, in this case erring—and self-sacrificing instinct of love ? While the other hands herself over to a man she detests for lust of gold—the basest, most ignoble greed, man or woman ever stained his or her soul with. As for the husband, how in his heart he must despise such a woman, knowing that his money has bought and paid for, not only her body and allegiance, but also every look and embrace she gives him.’ _ ‘ Good gracious, what a serious homily . said the young girl laughing. * But you have brought me round to your way of thinking, and in future I shall carefully avoid all rich men, like Count Farelli for m- ‘ Julia darling,’ he said, gently stealing his arm round the unresisting figure of the girl, and drawing her into his close embrace, you must give me the right to protect you from all suitors, whether rich or poor, who would approach you.’ . . * Must I?’ she asked softly, raising her blushing face, until her dark eyes, met his impassioned gaze. The sweet smiling lips were too temptingly near his own to be resisted, and his answer was imprinted upon them immediately, in a language more fervent and effective khan mere spoken words. , * But you have not yet told me that I have all your love,’ he whispered, as. they sat close together on a rustic seat in the ola moonlit garden. ‘ Should I have rested so contentedly in your arms just now, Stanley, think you, if I did not love you above all else on earth . Remember, I have only you, and my dear mother to love.’ ..... ‘ And never did man take a sweeter little white dove to nestle in his breast than you are, my own,’ he exclaimed drawing her closely to him. Gentle reader, shall we draw a veil o the rest of the nonsense talked by this pair of lovers ? Of course to them it was, as Lady Angela says in the play, about somebody’s poetry— 4 It was such precious nonsense.’ And we know that all fond lover enjoy the pleasant trifling ; but then we also know, that to the rest of the world it is the merest stuff. . . „ * * X- * * * *
‘ I think I had better go in now, Stanley. If mamma is awake she will wonder where lam perhaps. You know we have been. here a long time. .... ~ ■, ‘ Yes dear, and very likely you are tired, I shall not go in with you to-night my dar--ling but will call at the villa early tomorrow, and then we can have a long talk.’
CHAPTER V. GRIEF AND JOY. How rapidly sometimes events seem to crowd themselves together in our lives.
"We are called upon perhap3 in some brief space of time to pass through successive stages of the greatest happiness, or the deepest sorrow, and the quick transitions from joy to pain may well call forth the most, intense, and varied emotions of our nature. Again, at other seasons, the onward way in life is utterly level and uneventless, like some monotonous plain, or slowly gliding placid river, so still and calm our lives seem to flow onward : yes ! ever onward towards a vast unknown eternity. Only to those who can discover, and take pleasure in the little flowers which bloom for the patient seeker in hidden places by the wayside, and along the dreariest, and most toilsome path through life—only to such as these, who can find a beauty, and pleasure in small things—can the bare and dreary places on our earth be pleasant and endurable.
But we must leave this theme and pa3s on to our story.
The winter has passed away, and over the eternal city the sweet fresh spring time has come, and the rich sunshine—brilliant, yet not scorching—floods the open spaces with a lusturous light, the gay Corso with its crowds, the Pincio, the steps of the Trinita, everywhere, drawing forth the inhabitants to their open-air life. The true Italian spring, unlike ours, is a sudden joy ous outburst into a perfect brilliance of color, blossom and song. In the old palace gardens, the ground is carpeted with sweet scented violets, and purple and crimson anemones, and the almond trees are bursting into bloom ; while from the distant Sabine mountains, and from Moute Gennaro, the snow has entirely disappeared, and the Campagna has changed from its wintry hues of purple and brown, into a perfect glory of bright green grassy waves, clothed with the loveliest spring flowers. Truly this old Roman Campagna is, at this particular season of the year, a sight to delight a poet’s eye and heart; with the beautiful white clouds drifting over the blue sky, and the glorious, ever shifting lights and shadows on the distant violet hills, and with the atmosphere clear and pellucid as crystal. Stanley Daneford had selected this season, as being the most favourable for a sketching tour among the lower ridges of the Tuscan Apennines, and had departed accompanied by several art students of the set to which he belonged. There had been no time fixed for his return, but it had been definitely arranged that their marriage should take place early in the summer. The time during his absence passed very slowly to Julia who had learned to love the handsome painter with the fond devotion of her whole heart; though since her engagement to Stanley she had discovered that his character was by no means without a flaw ; in fact he had tendencies, hitherto unsuspected, which at thr.e3 occasioned her some very disquieting thoughts. The girl’s work and studies led her so much abroad, and amongst people, and she could not close her ears to what they said, and from these sources she learnt that Stanley Daneford was not quite as steady in his habits and mode of life as she could have wished. Nay, it was even hinted that occasionally he was wild and reckless in the extreme, but this she would not for a moment believe.
The one thing that pained her most of all was, that his manner towards herself appeared changeable in a marked degree, being at one time warm and impassioned, at another, cold, careless, almost indifferent. *lt will all come right enough when we are always together,’ she would argue with herself. ‘ I know his love for me is sincere, though he does not show his affection at all times just as I desire. Still I know it is in his heart all the same, so I ought to be satisfied, and I am in spite of all their doubts and fears for my future happiness.’ But now the shadow of a great sorrow was drawing close to the unsuspecting, and unfortunate girl, and before the month closed It was upon her, well nigh overwhelming her in the flood of anguish and desolation. Marie Contrucini, the beautiful mother, whom she idolised, was taken from her quite suddenly. The blow, was, at that particular time quite unexpected, for the patient sufferer had appeared to all outward seeming at least, very much stronger and better of late. But it had been a delusive improvement, merely the temporary quickening of the flame of life before it was to be suddenly extinguished for ever. The shock was to Julia, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at her feet, for though the beloved parent had been so long an invalid, nay, perhaps for that very reason, it had not once occurred to her mind that death was imminent.
So, for a time it seemed as if all gladness was crushed out of her life at one fell blow. As if she and happiness had parted company for ever. It was harder to bear, because they had been more like sisters, than mother and daughter * the confidence existing between them, had at all times been so full and unrestrained.
However, after the first shock and subsequent tattle with her natural grief, the girl’s energy and vitality carried her safely through, and when in the first month of summer, Stanley Daneford returned to Rome, he found but little change in his only that she looked a shade paler than usual, and was perhaps a trifle more subdued in manner. But Stanley thought her lovelier than ever.
* Poor little darling ! you have had a sad, and altogether miserable time of it while I have been away,’ he said, in a tender and sympathising sort of way. ‘ Yes, it is true,’ replied Julia, with a little tremor in her voice, for the wound was still very recent, and would not bear the slightest touch yet without causing a sensation of acute pain. * If only your letters had reached me earlier, I should have come back to you at once,’ he said earnestly. ‘ But you see we were in such out-of-the-way places most of the time, where no post could find us, and it so was only as we returned, that I became aware of what had suddenly occurred.’ ‘lt was perhaps just as well that it was so, dear Stanley, for you could have done nothing if you had been here,’ said Julia sadly. ‘ Would my presence then have afforded you no comfort under the sorrowful circumstances ?’ asked Stanley in a reproachful tone.
‘ Oh, yes ! indeed it would, I did not mean
that. But you know my trouble came and was over so quickly, that just at first I could not fully realise it. It seemed to me like an evil dream, and every morning when I awoke I expected to see my dear mother as usual. Then it was so horrible to find it was in truth a stern reality, and that in this world I should never see her sweet, patient face again. If it had not been for the one thought of your love, I should have prayed for death—’ a shivering sob choked her utterance, but Stanley took her in his strong arms, and with soothing words, and tender caresses, calmed and cheered the weeping girl. ‘ Now, come, darling, we will talk of other things,’ he said, when she had regained her composure, and somewhat of her old brightness. ‘ I hope you will not think of permitting yonr bereavement to make any difference in our plans ?’ he remarked, with a shade of anxiety in his tone. ‘ No, certainly not; why should it do so ?’ Julia asked in some surprise. ‘ I mean more particularly in the data fixed uponfor ourmarriage, dearest. Idon’t wish to have it delayed beyond the appointed time for several reasons. Besides, now that you are alone, there is all the more need that you should have a protector.’ ‘ It was my dear mother’s last request—in truth the only one—that if you still desired our marriage to take place at the time appointed, I should not oppose it. Of course I gave the required promise, and shall be ready to fulfil it.’ ‘ That’s well. And in the meantime, do you intend remaining here ?’ ‘ln my home do you mean ? Assuredly ! Where else could Igo ? You are aware that we—mamma and I—never had any really intimate friends.’
* And have you then no relatives of any degree, dear child V ‘ Not any that I know of, unless some very far removed ; with whom we held no manner of intercourse whatever,’ replied Julia with a look of quiet dignity. * That is strange though, for the Contrucini are of the oldest and noblest families in Italy,’ he remarked thoughtfully. 4 It is not at all strange, dear Stanley, for we were never rich,’ said Julia bitterly. 4 Besides my father was one of the younger branches of the family, and yet he was very proud, and would not suffer slight or scorn from any of his noble kin. Therefore, he always held aloof from them, and they showed no eagerness to seek him out, or draw him from his self-chosen obscurity. Perhaps if he had lived, things might have been very different. As it is, both my dear ones are at rest, and for me, it matters not.’
‘But my Julia, you will be very lonely here,’ said the artist looking, with love and admiration into the dark, soft eyes of the proud-spirited girl, so soon to become his wife.
* Oh, no, for I have dear old Maddalina, and she has been such a comfort to me all through my sorrow. And, you know, Stanley, this villa is mine; certainly it is all the property I have in the world, so I can’t boast of my vast possessions, and it cannot be said that you marry me for my wealth,’ she said smiling. ‘Thank goodness, no f he exclaimed emphathically. ‘I wan’t only your own sweet self, that will be treasure enough for me.’
‘ But I am really very fond of this old place,’ she continued. ‘lt has always been my home. I was born here you know, Stanley, so you will not wonder that my heart clings to it, and that I love it dearly.’ ‘ I should be surprised if you did not Julia mia, for I consider that the Villa Contrucini is one of the most delightful old places in all Rome. But then, how could I possibly think otherwise since you are here ?’ So it was finally arranged that they should be married, at the time originally named for the ceremony to take place, and in the meantime Julia had decided to continuo her studies, and the painting of her exquisite little pictures—for which she had a decided talent—this being amply proved by their ready and remunerative sale in some of the principal bazaars of the city. (To be Continued).
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Mail, Issue 657, 26 September 1884, Page 5
Word Count
3,906TALES & SKETCHES. New Zealand Mail, Issue 657, 26 September 1884, Page 5
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