Chapter XVII.

Otago Witness, Issue 1502, 28 August 1880, Page 24

Chapter XVII.

Loved, but not loving. jHEN Edith parted from ■ Elphinstone at the gate 1 leading to her father's house, it waß as his promised wife. She was now calm and quiet, feeling she had settled her life-question : there was to be an end to her old life. She would be a good, true wife to the man who cared for her, as she might not be to the man whom she cared for. 'It is nearly always so,' was her inward thought. ' One loves, and the other is loved. The woman who is loved is happier than she who loves. Perhaps I shall even love him — more than I ever loved — in time. I hope so.'

' I wonder why I love her,' waa what Elphinstone thought. He was very much surprised that ho cared so much for Edith as to wish her to be his wife. He had more than once been on the eve of proposing, and even of marrying, ere this, but it had always been to a woman of the world ; and now— in this out-of-the-way little town in the very heart of the country, away from the influence of all large towns and the life which is led in them— he had really fallen in love with a portionless girl, not much more than half his own age — one who was almost the exact opposite of what he imagined the woman he married (if he ever were to marry) would be. And why he loved her he could not tell.

One thing he knew : she was to be his wife, and he would then be a model husband to her, he thought ; and of course Edith must be, and do, all he wished — if she cared for him she was sure to. Only women were so deceptive, so changeable, and so frivolous, that Edith might even be tainted with the foibles of her sex. Very likely she was ; but he hoped to find her better than the generality of women. He had been very hasty in not waiting until he knew her and her relations better than he at present did, but did not wish to unsay those words he had said to Edith. And Edith— The next morning she told her mother all. Mrs Halford was dismayed, thunderstruck, at what her daughter had to say. ' My dearest girl, you do not know what you are doing. If you did, you would not be so. precipitate. You have promised this man — who is almost unknown to yourself, and a total stranger to vs — that you will take upon yourself one of the most solemn responsibilities which any woman can be bound to. Remember, my dear Edith, when once that is done there is no turning back, no escape for you, or for him either, whatever urxsuitability of temper, whatever faults

there may exist on either side. # Onoe done, it is one, of those things which can never honourably be undone. Your promise is for now arid for all your life in the future. Do you think you can make him' happy, and that he can make you happy, V . < , " The tears came into Edith's eyes as she answered : . , ♦I hope so, mamma.' ' But do you love him, dear / ' As much as I ever shall love anyone. You know, mamma, what a mercenary, hard-hearted girl 1 am. lam tired of being poor. Beggars can't choose-even SThey wish' to. I don't wish to choose. . lam tired Jo death of everything. * J Tlie mixture of weariness and bitterness in Edith's words and manner as she spoke. smote painfully on her mothers t hearC.She .thought of Hearn, and smT oereiy hoped her daughter was not. in love with him. ' Edith, you must not marry this man If you do not really love him.' The poor ;girl had been trying hard to persuade herself (and had almost succeeded) that, she was in love with Eiphinatoue, and she answered : ' I would not want to if I were not. In these early days Edith did not once think that it was the importance and novelty of the situation which she was more in love with than with Elphinstone himself. Mrs Halford had to be content with such doubtful assurances as her daughter could give 1 her that it was Bure to be all right, and that she was a lucky and happy girl. ' '■" ' 'Happy Edith often thought she was, but' it was not a steady, even happiness; H oame in wild bursts, by fits and starts, after whioh an unaccountable depression and 'melanoholy would steal over her spirits'/ and often she would cry to herself that she .wished she could undo it all. On tfie whole, nowever, she waa very far j from miserable. „•_.. , , Elphinajone oame to see her often, and would walk, in the garden or by the rivereide;with her, talking on whatever topio ] she cared to'lstart. „He seldom started) any subjeob himself, and Edith was so' absorbed in' what' they spoke of that she did not notice his indifference to many, things which to her seemed of the utmost importance. ' ' Mr Halford seemed quite satisfied that if ."Edith's in6ther did not openly object to : M'dau'ghter being; engaged to Elphln- • Bt'one,'it'musVbe all right. '"'Queer bellow," Elphinstone,' was his own opinion ; 'but if Edith liked him,; and'he liketf WP, it',' was, all right. , He* hls married, without his , father's orj mother's sanction/- Girls, now, in their? independence of- their .parents' assent ordissent; were more like what young men; usedtobe. --••». •" < Edith: had .first engaged "herself to, Elphinstone, and had then told him. : * .Well, he hardly expected that she would* have done 1 otherwise. Perhaps ■ he" would; have liked 1 better if she had consulted him; 'But she knew I would never' forbid, her marrying the man Bhe cared for, so it comes to, the same thing in the ""When Lucy was told, of it, her indignation knew no bounds^ It was Edith' who made the communication. They were: undressing. Edith was sitting before, the glasß, looking half dreamily at the reflection therein, whilst Lucy, standing behind her, brushed her hair. Lucy had, as yet, heard nothing of her Bister's engagement. She had been out when 1 Edith and her mother had talked it ; over.- She knew something was going forward, because her sister had been so absorbed and preoccupied." Edith,, with her elbow resting on the table, and ! her chin in her hand, said not a.word as Lucy began: _„..„ ' What are you looking at, Edith ? /At the, future, dear— at least lam irying.to.doso.' « Then it is a very pleasant future you are seeing now,: you sometimes see a yetj, miserable one. Am linit 1 ' ,: ,f,Qf 'course you are.' ' ./Who else?' .-. v * Agood many that I care for. Luoy Btopped brushing Edith's hair, and, leaning her arms on the back of her Bister's chair, looked straight into the deep blue eyes reflected in the glass before her ; then, in retaliation for Edith not confiding in her, she asked, teasy ingly : ' 4 Ib Mr Hearn in it?' 1 The next moment Lucy would have done anything to recall her words. Edith started up, and with both hands held, back the long wavy hair from her r blanched face, and, turning round, looked with frightened blue eyes into Lucy's face. \*bb.A don't talk about him to me, Lucy. : You must never, never again, even say his name before me.' , (Edith's tone was one of beseeching. Lucy, however* asked sharply and suspiciously : ' 'Why not?' • • 'Because I have promised to marry

some one else*' ' What nonsense ! ' ' It is not nonsense, Luoy, dear.' * Who do you mean to say you are to marry V 1 It does not matter to you, Lucy,' said Edith, suddenly flashing, up ; ' you don't care.'

1 Won't you tell me, then, Edith ? ' 'Yes.' And in a low, clear tone Edith said : 'Mr Albert Elphinstone is to be my husband, I believe — at any rate I have promised to be his wife.' ' You promised to marry Mm I How could you, Ediih II 11I 1

' Because he cares for me, and I shall be happy enough with him.' •You will be utterly miserable ; I know it. You are not suited for each other. If you marry him, you can say good-bye to happiness for ever and a day.'

'We were not sent into the world, Lucy, to be merely happy, but to do our duty.' ' And you oall that your duty ?' ' Yes ; it seema so to me.' ' Well, I don't see it in that way— not the least.'

Edith had again seated herself, and resumed her former position, except that she turned her chair so that she sat sidewayß to the looking-glass. ' He seems to think that I can make him very happy. He says he is miserable and lonely now. I know what it is to be miserable, and I am going to try and make him happier ; and in trying to make him happy I may even find my own happiness. Who knows ? ' ♦ I do. You will both of you be very much more miserable and unhappy than you have ever been before.' ■ ' How do you know that ? ' 'Because you have no love to give him.'

' I love him as muoh as I ever shall love anyone.' ' Anyone else,' Luoy remarked, almost under her breath.

' How cruel you are, Lucy,' said Edith, and she shivered slightly aB Bhe spoke. ' I am going to forget all the past, and begin a new life.' ' Are you cold ? ' asked Lucy. ' Not much ; just a little shiver. That is all. I am tired. I shall go to bed, and to sleep.' ' I suppose you are not going to write at all to-night, then,' said Luoy, rather reproachfully. , Edith looked hesitatingly for a moment at her desk, on the table beside her. Then, reaching out her hand, she drew it towards her, and, opening it, took up a pen, and, dipping it in the ink, began writing rapidly. Luoy threw a thin shawl over her sister's shoulders, and, after looking over Edith's writing . for a minute or two, began to brush her own hair and prepare for her night's rest. As Boon as Luoy was in bed, Edith handed her what she had written, and whilst Edith undressed Lucy read until the light was put out, and- then they talked of what Edith had been writing about.