Chapter 111.

Otago Witness, Issue 1003, 18 February 1871, Page 21

Chapter 111.

Nothing could equal Mr. O'Brien's courtesy and attention to me when I got the Eagle into hand. Our politics were rather parochial than European, there were occasions in which we considered it essential to warn Prussia, or threaten Prance, or refer to our difficulties with Central Asia, Our parliamentary representative, who had promised to develop the mining resources of Castletown, had to be looked after ; so had Mr. Disraeli and a town commissioner, who was a tailor in private life, and who addressed letters to me signed an " Ouvrier. " By the time I understood my business I was thoroughly disgusted with it, and yet it certainly amused me. I shall never forget a scene at a public dinner in the town-hall the first week of my arrival. The banquet was given in connection with an agricultural society, which had been started by a new English proprietor. Mr. O'Brien sat next to me during the banquet, which was of the most substantial description. He seemed most anxious that the dignity of the press should be duly asserted, although his mode of expressing his sentiments on the matter did not appear to me to be of the most impressive kind. For instance— as it happened more than onee — if we required anything, Mr, O'Brien announced his wants in this fashion : " Waiter, a fork for the press ! Potatoes for the press, waiter ! Waiter, salt for the press 1" and so on.

There was a stout farmer opposite me, whose performances on the beef and mutton were simply wonderful. This gentleman appeared, however, infinitely perplexed and disturbed by the tunes of a German band, which was hired to play in the progress of the festival, If he had an ear for music I don't wonder at it, for I seldom heard anything more villanous ; but I think his dislike arose from a less fanciful cause. He was, at the eighth repetition of a waltz, driven beyond endurance, and roared out " Stop 1" in so commanding a tone, that every one looked round. There was a dead silence for a moment, and the hideous orchestra was struck dumb ; a shout of laughter from the company, however, sent it on again in full swing. Some ladieß came in to • look at us and hear the speeches ; when I took a note of their dowdinesses, I was more than ever tickled at the idea of being warned against the fascinations of a Castletown belle.

It was a fortnight after this (the winter was fast coming on and the river was loaded with brown leaves) that I spent an evening with Mrs, Brady ; and, on the arrival of the post, she told me her daughter was returning the next day. " I have a bad cold, and perhaps you would meet Kate at the post office for me," she said. Of course I assented, and accordingly found myself in due time waiting outside the inn at which the ramshackle " Lightning " was expected. I was a little early, and spent the spare minutes smoking and speculating with some interest on the kind of girl she might be with whom I was not to fall in love on any account. In a quarter of an hour I heard the old-fashioned guard's horn, and a minute afterwards I was opening the door for a young lady whose face and head were no enveloped in a warm cloak that I could not distinguish her features. I simply introduced myself by saying, " Miss Brady ?" and, receiving a nod in reply, I handed my charge out, and then got her boxes off the roof. When this was done I turned round, and saw standing next to me my fair companion of the Holyhead steamboat. She was laughing heartily, and putting out her hand sad, " I hope the " old woman " and you are getting on well, Mr. Staunton. You see I have waited all this while to surprise you."

I scarce knew what to stay. The explanation of the mystery was simple enough. Instead of pointing to one of her own boxes to direct me to an address, she had shown me a trunk which did not belong to her at all.

" And then you know, when you told me what you were going to do, I knew all about it, and wanted to have some fun with you when I came home."

Upon reaching the house, I was still confused, apd felt an odd feeling of regret and pleasure. Mrs. Bradly kissed her daughter affectionately, and I took my leave. I passed over the little bridge leading into the town on the way to my lodgings. Without being much of a poet or a mooner, I have a constant hankering after scenery. I could not help lingering on the bridge of planks to look at the shining stream passing off into the dark under a curve of low hills, and I began to regret my promise to Mrs. Brady.