FICTION.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1321, 24 June 1897, Page 7

FICTION.

FIELDS OF FAIR RENOWN.

BY JOSEPH HOCKING

All Bights Reserved,

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE AUTHOR OF ' MORNING.'

The paragraph which Merlin Eosevear saw in the Imperial Observer looked very simple and unimportant. It did not contain more than a few lines, and was sandwiched between other items.of literary gossip which were of no public interest whatever. This was the paragraph :

' The name of the author of that remarkably able and successful novel, " Morning," has at last come to light. For some time the novel-reading world has wondered much as to the identity of the new star which has arisen in our literary firmament; now we know on good authority that " Arcadia" is a Miss Helen Granville, who resides at a charming out-of-the-world place in Cornwall, called St. Endor. Miss Granville is a member of an old county family, and a niece of Mrs Tredinnick, who is well known in literary circles. We are pleased to hear that Miss Granville will shortly visit London, and will be the guest of her relative in Russell Square.'

Merlin Eosevear read this item of news again and again, as though he were fascinated. His rival, then was the girl he had discarded. She who, he had thought, could never be really and truly interested in his work, and would be out of her sphere in the literary world, had outshone him; she had written a book which had caused people to forget his. She was coming to London as an honoured guest; she would be gladly welcomed everywhere.

• What a near-sighted, blinking idiot I have been I' he cried, again and again.

He thought of his visit to Cornwall, and the gossip so prevalent there. He remembered the conversation he had heard between Mr Granville and George Newlyn. He knew that Creekavose was mortgaged for more than it was worth, and that Helen's father was trying to arrange for George Newlyn to marry his daughter, so that a financial calamity might be averted. 'lt can't be true !' he cried. 'lf Helen had written " Morning " she would be in a position to refund the amount. The book must be worth a good deal of money.' He thought of his '.interview with the publisher of the book, and remembered how he had been told that the author would have a royalty. 'lt may be so after all. Probably she does not know what the thing will bring. Most likely the agreement was that royalties should be paid at the end of the year. In that case she doesn't know what she's worth. And yet she must have received applications for work. She must know that publishers would pay her big sums for future productions. Her father must know it too.'

He weighed the matter over again, ' Probably she has been keeping th e matter a scret from her father as well. Perhaps she had a purpose in all this.'

He started to his feet. He remembered the words Mr Granville had spoked to George Newlyn in reply to a question. ' Perhaps she does care for me still,' he cried. ' She is not a girl that can cast aside love .easily. She refused Gregory, she refused Newlyn ; perhaps—perhaps she does care for me ! '

The thought seemed to act upon him like some patent elixir. His eyes flashed, his cheeks became a rosy red. It flattered his vanity ; it aroused old memories, old feelings. It did not last long, however. 'What's the good?' he cried. 'Why should I trouble whether she cares for me or no ? She's nothing to me—never can be. I'm married, married—to—to a woman who wants to be young !' He spoke in bitterness and scorn. He tried to drive the thought of Helen Granville from his mind and heart. But he did not sleep that night. His wife was not long in hearing what had affected him so strangely, and spoke j to him about it. ' Well, what or it ? ' he said curtly. * Your old sweetheart, Merlin—think of it.' ' Well, there's nothing in that. Every girl fancies she must scribble nowadays.' ' Yes ; but think of it. What a feat t© write such a book as " Morning I" ' j ' It's a thing of an hour —a Sunday j school sort of a thing will be read by a few servant girls, and forgotten,' j 1 Oh, no, Merlin.'

1 Oh, very well. Shout with tlig crowd.' ' And to think we should have been so near, and yet never to have seen her.' ' Well, we've losfc nothing." ' I should like to meet her.'

I daresay you will. I daresay that old Mrs Tredinnick will trot her around as a kind of " peep-sb.ow." It will just suit her.'

' Why are you so angry, Merlin ?' ' Angry ! —wbjo wouldn't be angry ? The last thing I heard about before I left London was this balderdash called " Morning." Every fool joined in praising it, and wondered who "Arcadia" could be. Now it's all Helen Granville. Well, let them talk.' This conversation took place at breakfast two days after their return from Cornwall.

' You seem to be tremendously interested in Helen Granville,' said his wife, after she had been silent a few minutes.

He rose from the table angrily. A fierce passion was burning in his heart. He went to his study and tried to work, but he could not. His mind refused to think. He wrote a few lines of disconnected twaddle, and then tore it up and threw it into his waste-paper basCket.

' What a fool—a blind, blithering fool, I have been !' he cried. He took his hat and. went out. He walked westward towards Hyde Park, feeling angry with himself and with all the world, yet not knowing the reason of his anger.

' Why am I botherii lg ? ' he asked himself again and again. What need have I to trouble ? My futuire is assured. If I don't sell another boodr, if I don't write another line, I am a riich man, and I am Merlin Eosevear, autlior of " The Failure of David's Son." Wliatever Helen Granville may do, she cannot undo that fact.' He hailed a passing cab and entered it. ' Ventnor Street, Chelsea—No, 16,' he said to the cabby. ' I'm a fool, I know,' he said to himself as he lay back in the hansom ; ' but I'll have a talk with Gregory—l'll get him to tell me all he knows. I'll know why she refused him.'

He found Gregory .hard at work. The young man's face was pale, and there was a tired look in his eyes;. ' Well, Gregory, yon. look seedy." s Yes, I am a bit.'

' That's bad for you. Why, you've only just returned from, your holiday,- too. What do you men by it ? '

' Difficult to tell

Have* a smoke ? '

'lf you like. ??ufc your tackle away. I'm sick of the sight of copy. Let's have a talk.'

' Very well,' replied Gregory. ' What have you new ? ' ' Oh, nothing much. Let's see, how long is it since you came back from Cornwall ? '

' Several weeks. Why ? ' ' Oh, I was wondering. I've been down, you know.' ' What, to St. Endor ? ' ' Yes. I took my wife down. She was simply charmed with the place.' ' How long did you stay ? '

' Oh, between two or three w£:eks at St. Endor. Then I went on to Penzance, and the Scilly Isles. After doing them, I went to Newquay and on to Tintagel. I've tiken my wife to the show-places of my native county, you see.' I see. Well, how did Cornw. ill strike you after all these years ? ' ' Oh, everything's the same. No difference. It's a dead-and-alive c :>unty, in spite of all their talk. I shan't go again in a hurry. How did it strike you after the same lapse of time P' 1 ' Oh, it was delightful to me. The rest was like heaven. I never saw the sea so blue, or the skies so high.' ' Ah, I Avonder you did not s {ay logger,

; then.' They talked in this way for se-me time. Both felt that they were fencir $* with each other that both refrained fro: aa> touching the question nearest their h .©arts. Presently, however, Merlin cl camged the subject. ' You've seen the Imperial- ' Yes.' ' You've seen that paragraph in the literary gossip ?' ' What paragraph ?' ' About the author of ,; ' Morning-" ' ' Oh, yes.' 'Weren't you surprised ?' 'Weren't you?' ' I hardly know. It does seem a bit strange. You saw Miss Grranvillo while you were in Cornwall, pea-haps ?' And Merlin Eosevear watched Gregory cl osely as he asked the question. He noted , too the .flush that arose to his 1 >row. ' Yes, I saw her.' « Often ?'

' Several times. You seem to be much interested in her, Eosevear.' ' Naturally. You see she's an old sweetheart of mine.' He said this rather coarsely, and with a laugh. Gregoi-y felt as though he could have kicked him. ' Perhaps you were on intimate terms wfth her ?' he went on.

Gregory kept his temper. ' I visited Creekavose, at Mr Granville's request, several times.'

' Then you would naturally talk with her on various matters.' 'Yes.' ' Did she tell you that she was the author of "Morning?"'

' No. She said no word about it.' ' Do you think it is true ?' ' Oh, yes, there's no doubt about it.' ' Has the paragraph been corroborated, then ?'

' Yes; I've seen Mrs Tredinnick, I've seen her publisher, too. He talks freely about it now.' « I see.'

Merlin Eosevear hesitated a few seconds. He had not reached the point in the conversation at which he wanted to arrive. He thought he knew Vivian Gregory's nature, and spoke accordingly. ' You admire Miss Granville very much ?' he said, at length. 'At lefkst, so I should judge,' he added, after a pause. ' Why should you imagine so?' ' I was only thinking of the gossip, current at St. Eddor.'

' What gossip ?' asked Gregory, in a tone which showed that he was in no mood to Be trifled with.

' Oh, no harm, I can assure you old man. But people in these country places always talk a great deal.' ' Explain yourself, Eosevear.' ' Oh, people said that you were sweet on her.' ' Who said so ?'

'No one in xDarfcicular. It was the general impression, I suppose ; but I took no notice. Of course you were seen with her ?

' Why, then, did you ask whether I had met her ?'

' I was wondering if there was a shadow of truth in what the folks said. Perhaps there was, eh ?' ' Did you see her ?' asked Gregory. ' No. I say, Gregory, you do look seedy and worried. You appear quite depressed, tso. Surely such an optimistic brother as you should be more gay. I shall begin to think the gossips told the truth.'

Gregory looked at Merlin as though in doubt, then he spoke hurriedly, nervously, as though he were acting against his judgment. ' Yes they told the truth.' ' What! that you are engaged to Hel — that is, to Miss Granville ?' ' No; lam not engaged to her. It was not my fault, though.' ' Why ; you asked her ?' ' Yes.' ' And she refused ? ' ' Yes.'

' I had no idea you ever thought about her in that way,' said Merlin, thoughtfully. ' Was it a sudden passion, old man ? '

'No,'said Gregory, his face becoming very stern. ' I've loved her for years — loved her when you were engaged to her.' ' You kept your secret well, Gregory.' ' What right had Ito speak ' She was not for me, she was promised to you. I dared not go and speak to her for a long time, even after I knew you—.you —were no longer engaged to her.'

In spite of the fact that Merlin had a feeling of contempt for what he called Gregory's Utopian ideas of honour, he could not help admiring him. He kept his eyes fixed upon him and probed farther. He had not learnt all he wanted to know yet. This is strange, Gregory,' he said. ' I cannot imagine how she could refuse a fellow like you.'

' I am not the sort of fellow that women like,' said Gregory ' But you are. I hear that she continues to refuse to have anything to do with George Newlyn, too. Surely she must have some reason for this. Can you guess why, Vivian? ' He spoke almost plaintively, and there was an approach to tenderness in his voice as he called Gregory by his Christian name. Vivian Gregory was thrown off his guard. He was much excited, and i Merlin's conversation cause him to be indiscreet.

' Perhaps you can guess why, Bosevear,' he said; 'if you can't, I don't know who can.'

' I guess ! How in Heaven's name can I guess ? I have not seen her for years.

I —l have lost her by my own cursed foolishness.'

There was a tremor in his voice; he seemed as excited as Gregory. ' It ismot for rne to say any more,' said Gregory, angry with himself for having been led to say so much. Merlin Eosevear tried to continue the conversation on the same lines, but in vain. Greeory felt that he had already said too much, and', anxious to atone for his indiscretion, talked on other topics. Soon .after, Merlin left Vetnor Street, and walked up Sloans Street towards Hyde Park. His face was radiant, his e3 r es shone with a joyful light. ' She still cares for me,' he cried. ' The years have not killed her love. lam not mistaken in her. For her to love once is to love always. She is not like the majority of women; she is one of those who hold fast to early loves and early ideals through everything. She still loves me ! '

For the time he forgot that he was married, forgot that he had forged a chain which should keep him from encouraging such a thought. At that minute his marriage was a dream, and his wife a mere phantom of the brain. But the truth soon came back to him—came with terrible force.

' You are married,' it said. ' You discarded Helen Granville years ago ; you have forfeited your right to think about her in such a way.' 'Oh, what a cursed fool I am!' he said : ' and yet, and yet ' Presently he burst out laughing—a scornful, bitter laugh. He felt ashamed of himself for being so excited he was angry because he should be so interested in the woman he had discarded. He went to his club and had lunch, and on talking with some of his friends whom he met there, found that they, too, were looking forward to meeting Miss Helen Granville when she came to London.

' This girl has created a greater sensation than anyone since Charlotte Bronte,' said one. ' She'll find half the marriageable fellows in London running after her.'

'lf she isn't as ugly as sin,' said another ; ' a lot of these clever girls are enough to frighten a man. Most likely she has big yellow teeth, yellow skin, and a heavy jaw.' 'Ah ! but she hasn't,' cried another ; ' I saw her photograph the other day at Mrs Tredinnick's. She has one of the finest faces I ever saw. I fell in love with her as I saw it.'

' By the way, do you know her, Eosevear ?' said another. ' She comes from Cornwall. Have you seen her ?' ' Yes,' said Merlin ; ' I knew her seven years ago or more ; she was a girl of nineteen or twenty then, slim and pale. I used to think her very interesting. I didn't think she was brainy, though.' He tried to speak carelessly, but he could not conceal his eagerness. ' Mrs Tredinnick is mighty proud of her niece, I can tell you. She talks of nothing else,' said the young man who had spoken so enthusiastically. ' Do you say that she speaks freely about her ?' asked Merlin. ' She is mostly a close old party,' he added. ' Most iveely ; she seems desirous for Miss Granville to meet decent fellows. She has invited me most cordially,' he added, proudly. When Merlin left the club his feeling of interest in Helen Granville was intensified. ' I'll go and see that old duenna,' he cried. ' I'll find out about her. I'll But |no ; I won't bo a fool. Why should I 1 care ? She's nothing to me now —never can be. I'll drive her away from my I thoughts. I'll go home and work. I'll I plan a novel that'll shock everybody. I'll Hi. cabby!' ' Yessir ; where to, sir'?' 'ltussell Square.' ' What did I say that for ?' he cried, savagely, as the horse trotted along the street. I'm worse than a boy of eighteen. But I'll see that old nuisance ; I'll know about ' He checked his thoughts and looked gloomily up Shaftesbury Avenue, angry with himself, yet eagerly looking forward to his visit.

I Mrs Tredinnick was at home, and greeted Merlin in her characteristic way Although of Western extraction, and speaking with that soft intonation of voice peculiar to Cornish people, she was more Scotch by nature than Cornish. She possessed the gift of dry, caustic humour, and was sharp with her tongue. For years she had kept an open house for literary people, and always encouraged people who had brains. She was a keensighted old lady, though, and detected a sham moie quickly than mqst people, I

As soon as Merlin's name began to be known she had invited him to Eussell Square, but she had never made a favourite of him. She did not quite understand him. Since he had written his later books, which the world had called realistic, she had ceased to invite him, and although there had been no open rupture between them, Merlin had felt that Mrs Tredinnick did not belong to the list of his admirers.

' It's a long time shice I've seen you, Mr Eosevear,' she said, in her plainspoken way. ' I suppose by this time you have another great book finished.'

' I've been very idle lately,' he said, quietly, wondering how he could best lead the conversation into channels whereby he might soften Mrs Tredinnick's feelings towards him. ' Have the churches closed up and down the country ?' she asked. ' I'm not aware of such a state of things,' he replied. ' Neither have I heard that the marriage laws have been abolished, and that a kind of indiscriminate love is the accepted order of society.' ' I have not heard of either.' ' I was thinking they might be, afte your great book,' she said, sharply. Mrs Tredinnick was known to speak ha this way to any one whose writngs did not please her, so Merlin did not take umbrage. Besides, she was an elderly lady, known to be eccentric, and in spite of himself he wanted to be friendly with her.

' My great book has been sadly misunderstood, Mrs Tredinnick.' ' I hope it has been. However, it has done nearly all the mischief it is capable of doing now, I hope.' ' I hope it has done no mischief at all.' 'lt is all wrong, Mr Eosevear. It is a clever book, ana all the worse for being clever. Forgive me for speaking so plainly. I am an old woman, and I've seen lots of writers go up like a rocket and come down like a stick. You've turned your cleverness into wrong channels. I suppose when you called the book ' The Failure of David's Son,' you meant the failure of of Jesus Christ. "Well, Jesus Christ will live after your foolishness is forgotten. I suppose it had a run for a few months, and now it is nearly forgctten.' ' Oh, no ; it is still selling rapidly.' ' Well, I'm sorry for it. If ever a book was a failure, it is yours. If you think you are going to set the world right by that kind of thing you are mistaken, Mr Eosevear. People tell me, however, that my niece's book, which, without preaching, builds up what you try and destroy, is being read everywhere.' ' I am glad because of your niece's succuss. I congratulate you, too. "When I saw the announcement in the Imperial Observer, I was delighted. The old lady looked at him suspiciously. ' It wasn"t you that wrote that review in the Boomerang, calling her book childish twaddle, then ?' ' I never write reviews,' said Merlin, flushing as he remembered the article which, in the bitterness of his soul, he had written to the periodical she had men-

tioned. ' It is generally supposed to have been written by you.' ' I am credited with a great deal of which I know nothing,' replied Merlin, a little bitterly. ; ' Have you read ' Morning ?' ' Yes. I have read it. I think it delightful.'

' But it is at the antipodes from your book, in teaching, in sentiment, in everything.'

' Yes, it is ; I am glad of it.' ' AVhat'?' and Mrs Tredinnick looked at him curiously. ' Yes, I mean it; lam tired of so-called realism. I know I've been bitten by it; I know I have been called a disciple of Zola ; well, those days are over. I shall never write another book like ' The Failure of David's Son.'

He had never dreamed of saying this. Never until this morning had he thought of discarding realism. Why he talked in this way now he could scarcely explain, except that he wanted to be friendly with. Mrs Tredinnick.

'l'm very glad to hear it,' she said„ more cordially ; then she added, slowly, ' Your wife is a realist. She wrote " Hymen." ' ' Yes,' she wrote " Hymen." '

' Is she well ?'

' Yes ; that is, she is fairly well. Notwell enough to go into society,- though,. She keeps at home very much.' Mrs Tredinnick's face cleared somewhat. She did not like his wife. She-

had avoided her when she was Miss Winthrop, and she did not eneouragefriendship when she became Mrs Telford r

■-■ •« You saw that the Imperial Observer said that Miss Helen Granville was coming to London, I suppose ?' 'Yes, I saw. I congratulate you very heartily, Mrs Tredinnick.' 'lam very proud of my niece,' said the old lady, in a very satisfied tone. ' She will be much sought after when she comes to London.' ' There can be no doubt of that.' For a few seconds lie seemed to weigh his thoughts carefully, then he said, ' I used to know Miss Granville, Mrs Tredinnick.'

' What ?' He repeated his statement. ' Oh,' she said, ' I remember now ; of course, you came from Cornwall. You knew her, you say.' ' Yes, slightly. That is a long time agoI have not seen her for several years now.

' I never knew her to mention your name, that is—l don't know her myself, intimately—l have not seen her since she was a child. But she has never mentioned you in her letters.' ' No, possibly. I left St. Endor shortly after Mr Granville came to Creekavose. He was in a better social position than I.' He added the last sentence nervously. 'Oh, yes; I see. Mr Granville and myself have not ' She paused rather awkwardly, then she said, ' Probably you would like to meet my niece.'

'I should be delighted,' said Merlin. He said this eagerly, and he spoke the truth, yet he dreaded the meeting which he longed for. ' I daresay your wish will be gratified,' said tin old lady, cautiously. 'Of course she will be feted a good deal, and you may be invited to meet her.' He felt the snub, felt it keenly ; but he would not take offence. He felt that he .could even bear taking a place second to Helen Granville. Mrs Tredinnick did ;not invite him to Hussell square, however. She seemed to distrust him, she was not genial and frank. ' When does Miss Granville come to London, Mrs Tredinnick?' he added, presensly, ' Next month ; the third week in October. Yes, I'm looking forward to her coming with eagerness.' ' Yes ; I'll see her, I'll meet her alone,' he said, as he walked along Gower street a few minutes later ; ' I'll—l'll—but why should I ? She's nothing to me—never can be now. No ! I'll think no more about her. That chapter in my life's history is closed.' And yet as he walked along the street he formed all sorts of plans for meeting her, and that very night he took steps for carrying them into effect. A month later, he discovered, by means Iknown only to himself, that Mrs Tredin.nick had to leave her visitor alone in the ' -house one morning, while she had to transact some important business in the city. Helen Granville had at that time been in London only a few days, and as yet had not appeared in society. ' I'll go and see her,' said Merlin ; ' I'll get admission somehow. Why lam such , a fool I don't know ; but I'll go.' He went to Russell square, and watched Mrs Tredinnick's house until he saw the old lady get into her carriage and drive away alone. Then, with a fast-beating heart, he went to the door, and rang the bell. .

(To be continued )