WAS IT LIZZIE?

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1061, 30 June 1892, Page 14

WAS IT LIZZIE?

BY FLORENCE MARRYAT. (Concluded.) But sweet Lizzie Waters was destined never to see Ceylon. The articles of clothing she had prepared for her marriage remained folded in her drawers, until they became like tinder with decay. The wedding gown was never finished, nor did she ever receive another letter from Godfrey Mallison. She went -through all the agonies of suspense, suspicion, doubt, despair, and hopelessness; but she never heard from him again. She wrote a dozen pitiful letters at the very least, imploring him for a line —a word —to say he was still true to her. She crept up to Mr Hungerford’s offices, with pallid face and trembling limbs, to enquire if he still lived, and heard that Mallison was well and prosperous, and sent home flourishing accounts of his success in business. But for her, it was all silence and uncertainty and miserable doubt. At last, one day a fellow workwoman passed her over a newspaper at luncheon time. ‘ Isn’t that a friend of yours ?’ she asked pointing to a paragraph. ‘ Wasn’t Mallison the name of the young fellow you kept company with ?’ And Lizzie looked and read : ‘On the 3rd of March, at Colombo, Ceylon, Godfrey Mallison, Esq., to Caroline, widow of the late Benjamin Runter.’ There 1 Let us pass it over. It was the old story, and no words can do justice to its heartlessness and wrong. Other women besides poor Lizzie Waters have read their life’s doom in some such words, and have lived through a bitterness more cruel than the grave. At first she wouldn’t believe it was true ; but it was true. Godfrey Mallison, like many another man, had succumbed to the temptation of wealth and position, and an assured com-

petency. , He was young, bright, and intelligent, and he was very good-looking. His fine figure and handsome face had paved a way for him into Ceylon society at once. The ladies had raved about him. Handsome young men who could talk and laugh and ornament a ball-room, were at a premium there, and the head of the city olerls was soon turned. He accepted the position at first with pleasure, for Lizzie’s sake. _ He thought what an advantage his making a circle of friends would be to the friendless little girl who was to join him, being too ingenuous to perceive that his. greatest charm lay in the fact of his being free. He began by telling some of these ladies of his engagement; but he soon learnt that he had better hold his tongue about it. The announcement was not received with interest, and some of his auditors told him he was far too young to marry. Amongst these was Mrs Runter, who owned one of the finest coffee estates on Ithe island. Her husband had not been dead long, and he had left her sole mistress Qf all his property, w a large,

blown woman of perhaps thirty, and with more thana suspicion of East Indian blood in her veins. But she was very hospitable and very rich, and had no children to encumber her inheritance. Mrs Runter was considered to be the best match in Ceylon, and it was not long before she evinced a marked preference for the society of Godfrey Mallison. At first the young man’s sense of honour was not so deadened, but that he made an effort to resist her advances. ‘ You flatter me, Caroline,’ he would say (for they had already reached the point of calling each other by their Christian names). *lt would be hard for any man to refuse your kindness your offers of assistance. But lam engaged, you know l I cannot break my plighted word.’ ‘ Engaged 1 Nonsense 1 It can only be a boy and girl affair l’ Mrs Runter would reply. 1 How can you marry a woman without money ? You may be engaged for twenty years at this rate. Break it off! You will marry far better out here

‘ I cannot break it off! The girl is too fond of me. My desertion would kill ‘ Upon my word, you young fellows don’t think enough of yourselves. Kill her, indeed! She has most likely got another lover already just to keep her hand in, till you meet again. ’ ‘ You don’t know her, Mrs Runter ! She is as true as steel. I have been promised to her for two years past.’ ‘ Well I you may make up your mind to be engaged to her for a few more years. You can’t marry on your salary, Mr Mallison. You don’t know the expenses of housekeeping out here. I suppose I have a lac of rupees for your every one, and I don’t find them too much to make life comfortable. And if there was only a man like you, with energy and intelligence at the head of the estate, it could be made to yield ten times the money. _ You might leave Mr Hungerford’s service altogether then, end trade on your own account. You would be a made man, Mr Mallison.’

It was not until after many an attack like this, that Godfrey began to consider whether it were not his duty, for his own sake, to do the best he could for himself, and meet the widow’s advances half-way. He was very weak —all men are very weak under the cajolements of a woman, and an ill-favoured one close at hand has more influence over them than Venus at a distance—and the allurements of wealth and position and independence were too strong for him. He married Caroline Runter, and ceased to correspond with Lizzie Waters. He could not write and tell her of his defalcation. He was not cur enough for that. And receiving no reproaches from her, to keep his flame alive, he learned after a while not to think of her, or worry himself about her, but flattered his uneasy conscience with the idea that she did not feel it perhaps so much, after all, and that so pretty a girl as Lizzie Waters would never lack admirers. Yet there were, times —but Mallison thrust them angrily aside, and busied himself with his plantations. After his marriage everything seemed to prosper with him. TIIO coffoo ostatos flourishod exceedingly under his control. Children were born to him, and if the ci-devant Mrs Runter never gained his unqualified affection, she was at least very proud of her handsome husband, and denied him nothing that it was in her power to

give. Time rolled on. His sons and daughters grew old enough to require a European education, and Godfrey Mallison counted up his rupees and found he had made a competency, sufficient to allow him to retire from besiness, and live in affluence for the rest of his life. There was no thought of Lizzie Wkters left in his heart then. It had become worldly, and hardened against all tender memories. He looked upon his wife as the woman who had helped him to rise in business ; on his children as those who were to enjoy its fruits when he was gone. He brought his family home to England, and settled down in a handsome house in town. Every sort of luxury and comfort surrounded him, he had carriages and horses, men-servants and maid-servants, and money enough and to spare. His wife gave fashionable and sought-after entertainments, his daughters married well, his sons went into the army and navy. And yet Godfrey Mallison missed something in his life, though he could not have defined the want. But it was love 1 One day he accidentally met an old associate of the by-gone days a fellow clerk in Mr Hungerford’s office —now the worn out, bent cashier of a smaller Mallison did not recognise him at first but it is always the prosperous who for-

g6 ‘Not remember Jem Johnson, Mr Mallison ?’ exclaimed the old cashier, ‘ why, you and me, and little Lizzie AVaters, have had many a day at Southend and Rosherville together.’ , ‘ Lizzie Waters!’ repeated Godfrey Mallison in a startled voice (he had not thought of the name for years). ‘ Ah I yes ! By the way, did you ever hear what became of Lizzie Waters ?’ ‘ Oh ! she died years ago, sir. I married her friend, Rose Mellon, and heard all about it. Oh ! dear yes 1 Let me see ! Twenty years ago at the very least -of consumption, I believe. It mostly carries off those work-girls after a bit, and Lizzie Waters was always delicate ’ (Yes 1 Yes l I daresay 1’ replied Godfrey and thgugh the news gaye him

f a nasty twinge at the moment of hearing, he forgot it in a very little while, and was almost glad to think there was no fear of his ever meeting his boyish flame again. And then, when the hard work ot nis life was over, and he was just beginning to rest and enjoy the fruit of his labours, disease attacked Godfrey Mallison an insidious disease that kept him ailing, on and off, for years, and had finally stretched him on the sick bed, which he could never leave in this life again. _ . As his weakened brain reached this point of his narrative, something seemed j to pour a sudden vitality iuto it. Thought and remembrance were unexpectedly resuscitated, and an excitement, which he j had not experienced for months past, poured through the veins of Godfrey Mallison. * Why 1 that was Lizzie Waters,’ he

said to himself, with glowing eyes, ‘ who stood just now at the foot of my bed I I am sure of it. She is terribly changed, but I can remember the soft look she used to have in her dark eyes, and the pathetic droop of her little mouth. And yet Lizzie is dead ! Surely, Jem Johnson told me she was dead l My God ! What can it mean ?’ He pulled the bell rope which was placed within his reach, violently, and a professional nurse came hastily in from the antechamber, and was surprised and somewhat alarmed to find her passive patient sitting up in his bed. ‘ Dear ! dear !’ she cried, ‘ whatever is the matter ? Do lie down, sir. You will do yourself harm.’ ' _ ‘ Leave me alone,’ said Mallison, impatiently, * and tell me who was that woman who came in here just now ?’ ‘ A woman, sir ? There has b een no woman here l’ ‘I tell you there has 1 A pale,-thin woman, dressed in black, who came and stood at the foot of my bed and looked at

me 1’ . ‘ You have been dreaming,’ said the nurse, ‘why, I’ve never left the ante-cham-ber. Nurse Parsons has not come up yet to relieve me.’ ‘ Do you take me for a fool?’ exclaimed the patient, excitedly. ‘ I tell you she did come in, and stood and looked at me ! It was Lizzie, and yet how could it be Lizzie since she is dead ? Ah I I know,’ continued Godfrey Mallison, in a changed voice, ‘ I know 1 I see it all now. lam dying.’ , . . He fell back on his pillows, shivering as if with cold, and seemed to shrink in a moment to half his former size. His face became grey as ashes, and his eyes grew glazed and dim. The nurse recognised the symptoms, and rang the bell to summon his family. But the daughters had returned to their respective homes, and the sons were at their clubs, and Mrs Mallison had retired to her room, and could not dress herself again in a hurry. So only the second hired nurse appeared to keep watch with her companion. ‘ Don’t you see her ?’ articulated the dying man, in a hoarse voice, as he pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the foot of the bed, ‘ standing there so still and quiet, with the gold ring upon her finger ? Oh, Lizzie l forgive me. I was untrue to you and to myself 1 I. sold my birthright for a mess of pottage. _ But I am sorry! I repent! Say something to show that

you,forgive me!’ ‘ Delirious,’ whispered one nurse to the other. ~ , ‘lt is the last effort,’ was the reply. ‘ He’ll be gone before the mistress gets upstairs.’ „ , ‘Lizzie,’ almost shrieked the dying man, ‘ I loved you. I loved you only. I ruined all my happiness when I gave you up. And I was the cause of all your suffering-—perhaps of your death 1 I confess it I lam sorry ! I love you still I Only say that you forgive me I She shakes her head 1 My God ! I have lost her for Time and for Eternity, and I am going out into the dark—alone.’ His head fell back with a jerk upon the pillow—his jaw fell—Godfrey Mallison was dead. And so the evil we do in this life will haunt us to the end.