FICTION.

New Zealand Mail, 15 February 1900, Page 10

FICTION.

BROWN’S FEELINGS.

BY MARY ANGELA DICKENS

, “In "local parentis—that’s what I am and intend to be. Miss Dot’s got noone else—bless her—now. In—local parentis.” ■» , Brown made a pause between each Word, partly to give due force to each, and partly because the intervals were occupied with the arrangement of a cqffee pot and a. cup upon their silver tray. He was. a short, spare man, upon whom age seemed to have, laid a shrivelling : rather than an enfeebling - touch. The fringe of hair that surrounded his non-committalbaldness was- of that sandy hue over which time is more or less powerless. The deep lines upon his face seemed to be more of less the result of a preternatural solemnity of expression. His eyes were the watery blue of old age. but their glance, if slow, was as shrewd as that of a young man. “Lor’, Mr Brown, what things you do say.”

The comment came from Miss Feltram’s maid, who was standing by Brown’s pantry fire. Denton was a young woman, who, as she phrased it, “enjoyed a little chat.”

“And what may that mean in English, now?” she added. “ ’Tisn’t English, by the sound of it.” “No.”

Brown spoke with grim superiority. He was at that moment making the coffee,. a task he would give to no other hand.

- “It’s Latin,” he went on as he put the coffee pot down. “And it means—it means a ueal; in especial it means. I’m going to let Miss Dot understand my mind about this bicycle James brought? I can’t have Miss Dot bicycling; it’s not a fit thing for Miss Feltram to do; I won’t have her go bicycling out of Feltram Court, and that’s the fact.”

Brown’s was not the type of mind that moves with the times. It held few tenets, but the firmest consisted of the thesis that every invention to which the mind of man had attained since he himself haa arrived at maturity was an invention from which no good could possibly come. He disapproved of the telegraph ; he disbelieved in the telephone. He looked upon an express train as a new-fangled crotchet, and he regarded a bicycle as a machine calculated to wreck the very foundations of society. “Won’t you?” said Denton, laughing. “You think you’ve a deal of a say with Miss Feltram, Mr Brown, you do.” mean to have.”

“I have,” said he calmly. “ And I “She’s as well-intentioned a mistress as ever I wish to have,” said Denton. “But the meekest has a way of their own. and you mark me, Mr Brown, you won’t have your say for ever: that’s what I think.”

Brown only answered this by a dissentient cough and the clatter of a cup.

Meanwhile Miss Feltram was sitting in her own rather stately dining-room, which had remained unchanged to all intents and purposes ever since she could remember. She was just- a trifle nervous. It was not easy to say how the fact betrayed itself, for hers was not a physique which lent itself readily to signs of discomposure. She was a very handsome woman); though she was nearly thirty-seven there was no touch of grey in her thick black hair. It was drawn softly back from heir forehead, leaving only a few little curls to-soften the outline, -in a. way which added to her height and to the effect of dignity produced by a very well shaped and well poised head. She had particularly bright dark; eyes, a pleasant mouth always ready to curve into a smile, and a clear dark complexion against which the level line of her eyebrows stood out with an effect which gave an added character to her face.

The remains of a banana lay on her plate, and she was carefully cutting it into small squares as if the fate of nations depended upon the accuracy of this action. And herein, perhaps, lay the one sign of nervousness which culminated in a slight start as the door, opened. 1 -

Brown came up to his mistress, held the tray while she poured out the coffee, then put it on the table and withdrew a step or two so that he stood facing her, respectful, servant-like in every line of his black-clad figure. Miss Feltram began to play with her teaspoon. Apparently she found matter for study in her own crest as displayed thereon.

“Well, Brown,” she said at length, “is there any news to-night?” Brown shook his head. His natural solemnity of manner was accentuated. “Not that I’m aware of, Miss Dot,” he said, and then he paused. me pause was full of portent. Miss Feltram sipped her coffee with deliberation.

“Oh, by the bye,” she said, with an assumption of having been struck by a sudden thought which would 1 not have deceived an infant, and obviously did not deceive Brown, “has James come back from the station?”

“He have, Miss Dot.” It was only in moments of crisis that Brown’s grammar was wont to fail. Miss

Feltram suddenly became aware of an imaginary foreign body to be fished out of her coffee cup. “Were there any parcels for me?” she a-skect.

“There was some "steeds for the gardener and there was a bicycle. I couldn’t hardly believe it, but it was addressed to you, Miss Dot.” Miss Feltram evidently made a determined effort to take the hull by the horns. She lifted her head and faced her old servant.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “That’s right. I’m glad it’s come. Did I tell you, Brown, I can’t remember, that I’m going to take to bicycling? This is a capital time of year to begin, they tell me. The roads are so nice, and it won’t be too hot for a long time yet.” “Am I to understand l as you know how to do it, Miss Dot?” Brown’s tone was such as to convey unmisfcakeably that to his mind the knowledge of the art of bicycling was even a blacker fault than even the possession of a bicycle. Miss Feltram felt the subtle degradation she was undergoing and faltered. - “Well, not yet,” she. said humbly. “I ought to have taken to it long ago,” she added, growing bolder. “Miss Manisty and Mr Cecil are coming to-morrow to give me my first lesson. I shall soon learn,” she ended, with unexpected selfassertion.

“Do you think so, Miss Dot?” said Brown. There was a respectful veiled disdain in his tone, and Miss Feltram, her little flash of self-assertion over, passed to the only form of defence she could think of.

“And then, you see,” she said, “it will be an immense convenience. One may not always want to have the horses out. Besides, one can go such long distances Miss Manisty and her brother think nothing of sixty miles a day. Thev go like the wind!”

“Am I to understand that you are thinking of going sixty miles in a day, Miss Dot? And on them two wheels?”

Brown’s tone was perfectly respectful. No one could have accused him at any time of taking a liberty with his mistress, but there was that in his tone and manner which reduced bicycling to the level of a nursery entertainment for children of impaired intellect. “I do not think,” he added with the solemnity. belonging to intense conviction, it’s a suitable 'thing for you to do, Auss Dot—going like the wind. I can’t give no agreement to riding a bicycle—not for a lady in your position. I should have thought, if I may say so, you’d have felt the same yourself.” This crushing innuendo was delivered very slowly. Brown meant every word to strike home, and it did so/ Miss Feltram’s aspirations obviously grew cold within her.

“I—well, we shall see,“ she said. “Perhaps, after all, I shan’t care very much about it.”

She rose as she spoke and Brown said no more. He simply opened the door for her deferentially. But as into all his preceding speech so also into this small action he contrived to infuse something of pitying regret that the necessity for speech cm such a subject should have been laid upon him. Miss Feltram passed him with her head held rather high, hut she did not ask what had been done with the new bicycle, nor did she suggest that she should like to see it. She went into the drawing-room in silence.

It was, of course, not of the slightest consequence to Miss Feltram of Feltram Court whether or no her butler approvedl of her bicycling. But, paradoxical as it may appear, it was of the very highest importance to Miss Dot that Brown should look with a favourable eye upon her proceedings. How it had come about that Brown had been allowed to go on using the name by which he had known his mistress when she was two years old, now that there was no one in the world who dreamed of calling her anything but Miss Feltram or Dorothea, was a point not very easy of explanation. Dot had been her father’s name for her, and as long as he lived he had never spoken of her or to her by any more ceremonious term. After the cheery, dominating old gentleman had been gathered to his fathers, one or two of her intimate friends had suggested to Miss Feltram that it was advisable that Brown should now adont a more respectful foi*m of address. ‘But Miss Feltram had laughed and sighed, and shaken her head.

“It would hurt Brown’s feelings,” she said.

So Brown continued to address his mistress as Miss Dot, and, moreover, he continued to think of her as Miss Dot. During old Mr Feltram’s lifetime he had ruled alike over his daughter and his servants. But Brown’s submission to his master was merely the submission of one strong character to another which happened to have the advantage of circumstances on its side; and it would have been altogether impossible to Brown to submit in like fashion- to the authority of Miss Dot.

lie had stepped into his position as critic and general superintendent of Miss Dot’s actions before Miss Dot’s father was well laid in his grave. And every one of the five years that had passed since then had strengthened that dominion. Miss Feltram gave way to Brown, at first because she had been in the habit of giving way to her father, and life seemed a very one-sided business without him. She gave way later, partly because Brown would have made her life a burden to her—respectfully but

firmly—if she had not done so, and •partly, as she told herself when his yoke was particularly grievous, because he was an old man, and she “couldn’t bear to hurt his feelings.” Brown did not speak on the subject of the biejele at breakfast or luncheon next day, but it was with an expression that would have done him credit at his mistress’s funeral that he opened the door of the drawing-room at about half-past three in the afternoon and announced in sepulchral tones: “ Miss Manisty and Mr Cecil Manisty.”

It was a brisk-looking girl and a boy in bicycling things who were thus ushered in, and the girl flung herself upon Miss Feltram with effusion. Miss Feltram was very popular with her neighbours, young and old. But that liveliness which was one of her charms was conspicuous rather by its absence a# she answered her young visitors’ eager questions. “Well, it has come,” she said slowly. “Well, really I—l haverdt seen it yet, Kitty. It—-only come last, night, you see.”

“You don’t mean tq say that it is not even unpacked,” caid Cecil Manisty. “Why, I thought you were no end keen, Miss Feltram. Come, and let’s get it out.” Au alert young grcom, however, had seen to the unpacking of the new- machine, and as he wheeled it out snick and span and shining: “It’s ripping!” pronounced Cecil. “Come along, Miss Feltram!”

Miss Feltram paused suddenly. “You don’t mean to try here, Cecil?” she said, and she glanced involuntarily at the house.

“Rather!” responded the boy, cheerfully. “Couldn’t have a better place!” But Kitty Manisty was quicker than her brother.

“The Long Walk would be ever so much better, Cecil,” she said. “It’s so straight, don’t you know.” She took the bicycle and wheeled it away, followed by her brother loudly protesting, and by Miss Feltram silently grateful. Miss Feltram had an inward trembling sense of the near presence of Brown. His disapproval seemed to cloud' the bright new plating before her eyes. Was bicycling really suitable to her age and position ? She had argued the point with herself at great length on the previous evening after Brown had had his “say.” And when she had settled in her mind that it was certainly quite suitable, she had found her naturally tender heart pierced by another qualm; was it kind to hurt poor old Brown’s feelings for her own pleasure, even if the action itself was right. Before she went to bed she had nearly decided to give it all up. Now, carried away by the impetuosity of the young Manistys she could only say feebly to herself that the Long Walk was nearly out of sight of the house. Nearly, but not quite. From a passage window near Brown’s pantry part of it could be seen, and at that window Brown, as his mistress and her guests went out, had posted himself. He did this with a vague feeling of facing the worst. If proceedings he entirely disapproved of must take place, let them take place under his eye, he thought. Also, his whole soul was full of bitterness at having his remonstrance thus set aside, and he felt he could not possess it in patience in the pantry. He honestly adored Miss Dot from the depths of a grim and faithful old heart, and he honestly thought bicycling derogatory to her dignity. The spectacle before him certainly lent colour to his views. The man or woman whose first attempt at bicycling shall be dignified has yet to he bom. Mi6s Feltram went through all the usual humiliations. She was pushed up on one side, pulled xtpon the other. She swayed hither and thither with Kitty Manistry clutching at the gathers of her skirt, and finally, after much indecision as to which side she would fall off, she cast herself into Cecil Manisty’s arms with a fervour not warranted by their every day relations. Brown’s groan on beholding this was still echoing in the passage, when Denton’s voicce said innocently o\;er his shoulder:

“Well, Mr Brown, seems to me your say ain’t what it was; I s’pose you had it, about, the bicycle ? How’s Miss Feltram getting on ? You’ll excuse me mentioning it,' but your front door bell’s ringing—second time, too.” If there was one thing Brown prided himself upon) more than another it was that no one ever waited at the door of Feltram Court, and Denton knew it. He went off growling as she disappeared chuckling. He flung open the door with an accentuation of his usual style, and then the growl was succeeded by something like a. gasp. “Mr Richard Manisty.” It was Brown who asked the question. The vistor smiled.

“Colonel Manisty,” he said. “Is Miss Feltram at home?”

What Brown said he did not know, hut he murmured something as he took the visitor into the drawing-room. The result of this murmur was that Miss Feltram who, held by Kitty in front and Cecil behind, xvas at last going gindown the Long Walk, was thrown off her guard, and the bicycle together, a solemn voice behind her. ‘Am I to understand, Miss Dot, as • V °wu£° at home or not at home?” With such a start as might have been produced by an explosion in the neighbourhood, Miss Feltram re-gained her

equilibrium. She turned to 1 a positively guilty air whichenough upon her tall and I son, and she drew a step ort,r-P f 5, 1 from the bicycle as though <iis C L5 s J 1 connection with it. 'll “I’m—l’m at home, Brown ”rV ‘‘ a “I—we were just coming to’ _ “I took the liberty of inquiring#'l Dot,” said Brown, with a gloom I?* 1 can only be described as | “because Colonel Manisty A little gasp broke from Miss pyu' j and the flush with which she t/a “> A fronted Brown faded very suddonC 18 ' 1 “Colonel Manisty ?” she said blankly. Then she turned to uqv 1 1 “You didn’t tell mo that your un& | come back,” she said. “I_j 1 idea that he was ekpccted.” '/ Q fia . \ ‘He was nit,” said Kitty, “Didnt we teU you? No, we f full of the bike, you see. He onljr fert ed up yesterday. Telegraphed. f£; Southampton to say that heVas cSmil; : He said perhaps he’d ride over ankback with us to-day.” “Am I to understand as you are ; oob£ ing in, Miss Dot?” inquired Brown cf “!—l’m—oh, yes,” said MisV vaguely; and she moved up the LsS Walk, with Kitty by her side chatterisf on about her uncle’s arrival. ;; tram did not speak a word, and:duriM those two or three minutes a softcoloar' came into her chock and a strange shin, ing to her eyes, which made her?as she opened the drawing-room door, look little older in the eyes of the man who' rose to meet her than she ha<T loqkej‘ when he had seen her last,'fifteen years'! before. She advanced and held out her hand, saying, simply : ' “I am very glad to see you.”/

He was a handsome man, tall;'.Scd,! dierly, bronzed by many years of Indian suns. His keen grey eyes looked for. one instant searckingly into hers->and then they softened strangely. “Thank you,” he said. “When Heard this boy and girl were coming here Jih; afternoon I thought I might perhaps come over and go back with',them.”, i “I had no idea you were in Engan'd,” said Miss Feltram, as one who makes; conversation. “Your arrival was rather sudden, Kitty tells me.” “The whole thing was rather sudden/’ he answered. “I found it could jbe man-' aged and I thought I’d come.” “Are—are you strong?” said Miss Feltram. “We heard of your' splendid doings, and of your wound.* : “I am quite strong again, thank you," lie answered in a low voice. And then Brown appeared with tea. Not even the dispensing of tea, and the ordinary talk of the neighbourhood, in which Kitty Manisty and her brother joined eagerly, seemed quite to restore to Miss Fetram lier normal manner. She moved and spoke like a woman in a dream. Like a woman in a dream, her visitors being gone, she went to her own room ; like a woman in a dream she was sitting with her chin resting on her hand when Brown appeared with coffee after dinner. -

Brown considered his mistress attentively under pretence of waiting for her cup, and then seemed to think better of an inclination to speak, and betook himself to his pantry. By ten o’clock all his work there was done, even to the final chastening of the most inferior subordinate, and he was sitting by the fire. He was a great reader in a patronising sort of way, and had been known to allow that Shakespeare was “quite inter: , estin’ ” to the mind, in parts,” but no book, interesting or otherwise, filled;his thoughts to-night. / •// “So you knew Colonel Manisty belore, did you, Mr Brown?” Denton quirod at supper time. Brown, ’had sjfcfall earlier in the evening fan?, to that effect in the presence of what generally stigmatised as “that- gigg‘®S set of women”—his fellow Brown growled an affirmative. ®enttß was young and quick-witted, and sue drew a how at a venture. . ■}[&£s''•'

“They are sweethearts, him and. Miss Feltram, I suppose?” she said. - Brown feigned to he occupied wittt; his supper for a moment, then .he KU very grimly: ' ///£// “Whatever they were, they wont).k?, ; it again. I shall have a say in u I tell you.” l And it was the purpose; conveyed.'* this cryptic remark that was 6ngJy_ ing Brown’s mind' now. Fifteeil, before, Colonel Manisty had keen P . Mr Richard Manisty, and a younger at Ferries, where his eldest kro > Kitty and Cecil’s father, was master today. Ferries was two miles en v/ tram Court, and one summer, & , . years Before, “Air Richard” Md sp. ; most of his days and hours at. tne - . ter place. It was not difficult to. cover what brought him there: u . as well as everyone else, Knew' w , enough that he came to “see Miss .A whatever his ostensible pretexts b£. be. Brown’s queer old heart, gP m ~ in those days, thought no °]? e £« 4 enough for Aliss Dot, least orj ( ■ young lad with his work to'ao. . u Brown expressed - the fact that -K Manisty’s career in the army , yet all before him. Suddenly t came a day when “Mr Richard _ ings and goings ended. L,Ler learned that he had “asked tho for Miss Dot,” and had been torily refused by Mr Feltram y count of his youth, he felt strong l ? silently with his master, and, lently, rejoiced greatly.

Tbot was all in the past. To-day to m ; n d the whole situation, had Opened itself, and presented the old Sffflmiities He forgot the passing of fiS years, he forgot the difference SE years had brought to both man !r d woman, he forgot that his mistress her own mistress too, now, nomi: rX at all events, and he forgot most of all that the whole affair did not eon-. C& To him’, Colonel Manisty was still ¥he young man to whose suit, had objected, and was stul a “v__, e i r l with 110' father now to guide erring fancies aright. He thought' and thought ; pondered and oohdered. The fire cracked ijjo-hed. fell together, and went out, Not until it urns black and dead did Brown rise, and lock up the sleeping house with the air of one who has made up his was the afternoon cf the next day, Brown had brought his mistress some letters. She took them, but he did not move, he stood at about five paces from her quite still. Miss Feltraro, surprised at his unusual behaviour, looked up. . T „ , “Well, Brawn ” she said, -do you want ct© ?”' Brown’s answer began*.with the phrase which with him was went to be surcharged with meaning. “Am I to understand,” lie said, “as ‘Colonel Manisty is making a long stay, Miss Hot ?” Miss Fe'tr.iri-. stared at. him in still deeper surprise. “I don’t know,” she said. Her voice had an unusual coldness in its ' tones. But coldness wa-s as nothing to Brown. “I wish to say, Miss Dot-,” he went on, "that Colonel Manisty isn’t changed, not in no important particular from what Mr Richard Manisty wa*.* There was a- certain significance about Brown’s tone, and Miss Feltram started sightly. Her eyebrows were drawn, together, and sic looked astonishingly like her father as she said, very haughtily: “No, Brown.” Still- Brown was not to be daunted. “Am I to- understand as Colonel Manisty will be here much, Miss Dot?” he asked. “If I may say so, it’s not what your father would have wished. Miss Bat,”

■ Miss'Feltram flushed angrily, and her eyes flashed. “And you aavic’ no one to guide you but me, Miss Dei," went on Brown before she could speak, “I shouldn’t feel I had done my duty it I didn't- warn you against listening to any gentleman as my master disapproved of.” Miss Feltram rose. Her face was as Bro-wn had never seen it in ail her life.

. “Colonel 1/arusfcy’s comings and go-ings-can never concern .you, Brown,” she sale. l . “You forget yourself entirely.” it was a flash of old. Mr Feltrain’s force that directed' the words, and the I’olo6 1 ’ 0106 i y aSi expressed in every line °- Hiss Feltranrs face and figure as eh© swept cut of the open French window into the garden. Crrnnon and. confused,, her mouth quivering and. her heart beating, she turned into the drive, Corning up it. Do° 036 to liers was Colonel Manisty/ slow are you,” he said as he reached

She held out her hand with a curious constraint and. the colour that rushed anew over her faee made her very handC !? l0I f eI s f ailist y did not- see the but he saw the beauty. , low are surprised to -see me," perne saia. “But Kit-tv was talkvm- ano f ther e Fding lesson, for ? tWiTT CnL r fc come over to-dav, and i thought perha-ps you. would accent me aj a suostitubs.” nlf iS b^ a ?u er i^ S 7 &r -?. f rank and simtested vhe mom in his eyes as they Ker . seemeo. to increase Miss r emram s contusion. TOiwlv V “TP + k !? d ° f y , otl >” sbe sa id nerE ,i are'abn.-f d ° r° U V^ n ,°. w * think it'up 6 ” 8, think I shall give Cefonel S Mr e --f itk constraint, 0 f surpj-hl'^ 10^7 ma ' Ge a quick movement f l H’ Stll T fc3 ”i !iS Said cheerfalsyo** E h.i t6k w hether you will like it difficult^ 1 r mast . ered ts l e first you willt; •„ o may say so i think for a te‘S et oa better with me & St / fh t! “= bO -y or girl! Mris Feh-.. a fE> won’t- you?’ it P^ la liot ha T e told tow her vi site-v f v h& ' ps ‘ consjaerat-ion for of it. ?vm¥ IQg6 . was at the bottom walking bv” H- V • , mm „ u tes later she was who. wheiiJst Elae or Manistv. 4r. 1 le& ;' ner nw bicycle. changed °st Ferried” despera- s ,i r , . ‘- ce> asKea - with a our. .-joeiupi,- at an easy demeandrep C W A C ‘D Le aus wered. ‘The chilcount that** wv, ° £ eoiir t e ’ 1 don,t years I huh >' 01 üb6, rest the fifteen nothing! I , away l eem t° go for that it fif,- ollfc hnovv how to believe alow vo'h- “Tf. yearS ’\ Le weilt °a in oay that „ j aee T med to me yestersaw you last " day lad i >a3sed since- I stood stiff 1 otfa . and then, he suddenly at Mris Feltmn°° keo ' aCr ° SS the bi °y cse l}' 3 ' TTfrxr? F so soop 1} to speak to have Waited d ‘ Js °' f c& ' arse ’ 1 meant'hub when I ®L and ~ aild fßlt w-ay that ! shoiddn’f ?° u Yesterday I knew 1 HveeSVoS; y ° U kn ° W "' hy

Miss Feltram "’was turning from white to red and, then to white again. She turned, away with a quick little gesture and no words'. ' , “I have come because I liave never been able to forget you,” he said quiet*y- “And I suddenly realised that I could go on no longer without knowing Whether, you had forgotten me. Your %uher thouglit ours was only a girl and hoy passion.. Dot-—-' liis voice was very ldwvand deep—“was it only a girl and boy passion ?” She made a swift sign of denial, and as she did so lie caught her hand in liis. . “I’ve wanted you allthese fifteen years,” he said. “Won’t you come t-o me at last ? ' / She tore her hand from his hold and covered her face. Then she dropped her hands again, and turned her face, flushing and quivering, to him.” “I love you. Dick,” she said quite simply. “I always loved you. If you want me—after all these fifteen years— I’ll come to you.” * * * * Denton met Brown as he came out of the drawing-room. “Been, having your say about Colonel Manisty r* shell asKect. “Doesn’t seem to hare done you any good, any way.” Some hours later Denton rushed' into Brown’s pantry. She had just finished dressing her mistress for dinner. “Says is off!” she cried. “Miss Feltrant’s just told me she and Colonel Manistys engaged to be married!” But she spoke to an empty pantry. Brown had been summoned to the draw-ing-room. “I must tell hiin myself,” his mistress had pleaded. “I hurt his feelings this afternoon, and I don’t want to do it again, poor old Brown! Besides, Dick,” she added, half laughing and half crying, “do you know that this—that it—is really Brown’s doing! Just before you came he had told me that he felt that it was dis duty to warn me against you, and—and—the worm will turn!”

Next week, “A Strange Disappearance,” by Ellis Kingsley.