THE NOVELIST. THE NOVELIST. Edith. Chapter XXII.

Otago Witness, Issue 1505, 18 September 1880, Page 23

THE NOVELIST. THE NOVELIST.

Edith.

Chapter XXII.

— ■ — ♦ — — The usual batch of MSS. of Mr Farjeon a tale did not come to hand by la* mail, and we shall consequently have to I beg our readers indulgence for a week or two.

I ; By A. M. M.

Consummation* 1? 3 l em that *&kntta» was w- 6 mar^d soon, became Pubhc P^P6l^ Everybody was^awprued—no one more Mr^S* *? f^ nds the e y* fra Prey's indignation knew no bounds j in fact, ahe placed

x,L t'^ L ??, credence in what MorvSuiOi rTTiIrTT il she had aeen Mrs Halfwd heraelf, and from her ascertained Jhe truth. Edith would not Bay.poaitively whether the rumour werefaueor not. Amongst her small circle of acquamtanceß Edith's motives for marryhie him were very freely discussed. Some of course, thought ahe might possibly be in love with him, but they were maminority, Moat said Edith waa marrying him simply to have a home of hatown, and to occupy a better position thai* the one she now held. None guessed the* real reason, however— that she was marrying the man who cared for her becauseshe could not have the one she cared for —'because she was too young for them to think of such a thing. Not a few of Mphuiatone a acquaintances even blamed Halford for allowing hia daughter to marry as she was about to, before she waa old enough. Mortimer Grey tried to reason with Halford on the impossibility of there> being any love—on his daughter's side, at any sate ; but Halford ridiculed th» idea that Edith of her own free will should marry a man she did not care for, and believed everything was quite right. Mortimer, having been behind the scenes, knew better, but could not get Halford to ace it in the same light aa he did. It would have been useless to tell her father that Edith waa unhappy for ahe nearly always seemed co bright 'and' happy now. * w Even Mrs Halford waa becoming morereconciled to it, now that her daughterseemed to grow ao contented and pleased over it. But Lucy knew more than anyone else did. She knew that sometimesEdith cried heraelf to restless sleep,, during which she would talk, not W sentences, but would aay a few wild word*at a time, and from what she said haov Boon knew perfectly well that her Bister ~ waa not h» m| ana thrt aba could wfc

forget Hearn. It was not that Edith, disliked her lover, but she so loved Hearn there was no room for any feeling deeper than that of a strong liking for Elphinstone in her heart. But even to Lucy Edith never confessed her real feelings towards either. She simply would never talk about Hearn, and would, not allow a word to be said against Elphinstone. Things went on like this for about a month, at the end of which time Mr Halford received an appointment to an office in Sydney. As it was better than what lie was at present engaged on, he accepted the post gladly, the only drawback being that he must go not later than the beginning of March. As Edith did not wish to be married until April, as matters originally stood, some alteration had to be made in the date of the ceremony. Elphinstone generally came to see her on Sunday, and any other day if ho could get time ; but that was not often, as he was very busy just at present. Edith did not see him for two or three days after she knew that her father was going away* Everyone in the family, except herself, was glad of the expected change. If it had only come a short time before, she, too, would have been pleased, but now she dreaded that this removal would precipitate matters, and that she would have to be married before they went away ; and, instead of hurrying, she wished to ■delay as long as she possibly could. Her fears proved to be well founded, for Elphinstone would not hear of such a thing as that Edith should accompany her father and mother to their new home-, and thus delay their marriage for an indefinite period. So when Edith Said: 'We are going to Sydney in about a month.' He replied, in disbelieving astonishment ; c What, Edith dear ? ' ' Papa has an engagement in Sydney, 3cnd we are to live there. We are going in about a month.' 'Your father and mother and your siaters may be going, but you certainly axe not, my darling,' said Elphinstone, with a quiet smile, as he put his arm round Edith, and drew her to himself. *Do you think I would let you go away?' ' I don't see what you have to do with it.' ' Well, I do ; and I tell you plainly, Edith dear, that sooner than you should go away — if there was no other way of keeping yon— we would be married tomorrow. But it is not quite so bad as that. I will give you a fortnight, but you must raise no objections. - You did "not really think, did you, dear, that T -should let you go away, and perhaps lose you altogether? for you might change ■your mind if you were away from me. it would be " Out of sight out K>f f mind " —eh, Edith 1 ' 'If you cannot trust me, I will go with them,' said Edith, petulantly. 'You will do nothing of the kind, because I should be miserable without you.' Edith was silent for some time, by signs Elphinstone took it for m 'anted she would raise no obstacles to th t ur speedy union. In a weary way she jnj, vered at length : < \ Yell, you had better ask mamma. I clon't think she will like it. She quite believe 8 we are all going together.' *Do \ T ° u want to go ? ' asked her lover, '1 don't' know what I want. Are you going to ta k« me on the river to-night 1 ' ' I am no.t going to take you anywhere, unless you promise that a fortnight from this day shall be our wedding-day. lam tired of waiting. Come, darling, 1 he added, his face relaxing from the hard, cold look it had worn when Edith told him he had better ask her mamma, ' you know I only wantr you to be happy. If you were to go away, I might not be able to come for you, not for a very long time.' 'You will get tired of me all the sooner. Men are always very soon tired of their wives.' * We must be an exception to the rule. If you love me half as much as 1 do you, -we shall never be tired of each other. Do you really love me, Edith V 'Do you really think I would tell you?' * I wish you would, only once.' 'Well, I won't.' '"Then I shall think you don't care for me.* 'Think what you like,' was the laughing'reply. 'Then you don't love me V * Oh ! if that is what you like to think, believe it by all means, and I will try and make it a reality. Why will you always torment both yourself and me by *aying such things ? It would be far nicer if you were not to do so.' 'tDon't give me cauße, then. You sometimes seem as if you did not care for one, xnd you are careless as to whether ;you vex me or not.' 'What a nice beginning, Albert ! You :are finding fault already. I think I shall mot give you the chance to do so any longer.' A frown gathered on Elphinstone s ■brow at Edith's words. But he meant 4o carry his pomt — namely, get Edith to consent that she would marry him In a fortnight. So he said, taking hold of her arm to detain her, for Edith, after her last words, turned from him as if about to leave T»m :

'Well, is it to be a fortnight to-day? It is all nonsense for you to say you must <Mk your mother, bestuie I know, Edith

dear, that she will let you do just as you like. I can see you always get your own way at home, and I am sure no one would oppose you in this. You did not think of asking anyone to allow you to become engaged to me ; so act on your own responsibility now. If you promise, I will see that you are allowed to fulfil your promise. If you refuse what I ask, I shall feel quite certain you do not care for me. Is it to be 1 ' Edith saw that Elphinstone was very much in earnest, and that if she refused his demand perhaps he would be angry with her. She had tried him by hanging back ; but now, as usual, Edith at last gave in, and promised what he had asked at first. For some time past Edith had felt that she scarcely had a will of her own, so completely did she allow Elphinstone to have his own way in everything. If he wanted her to go for a walk, however disinclined she felt, Edith would go with him, although it nearly always had happened that he wanted her to go when she was busy, when the wind was blowing clouds of dust, or at what Edith considered an inopportune moment. When Edith would have liked to go for a walk, he coaxed her to stay at home, and she gave in most unhesitatingly. Edith felt as if, with closed eyes, she were drifting down a river. It is very delightful whilst you are in mid- stream, and if there are no sudden turnings or snags near ; but once strike against something, and you are compelled to open your eyes. She had happened to drift on, and, instead of striking any obstacle in her way, had floated round and past all. It was very delightful to have someone who took care of her in such, a kind, authoritative way as her lover did ; it was very delightful to receive presentssuch beautiful presents, too, as he gave her-— and to be told how everyone else was envying him because he was so fortunate a3 to have won her. Yeß, it was all very delightful ; but there was sometimes a restless longing to have it all over and done with — a weary dislike to this new life, a longing to have time and courage again to think. Bravely did she try and forget Hearn, but she could not quite convince herself that she had done so. Mrs Halford was very unwilling to allow her eldest daughter to become a wife before the time which it had been arranged for. She had hoped that their going away might have even delayed it for a year — a few months was the very least additional delay she had reckoned on ; and to be told by her future son-in-law that it must be before they went, in a fortnight's time, was too hard. She used every argument which she could think of to prolong the time, but it was of no use. Elphinstone had quite made up bis mind that it should take place at the end of the fortnight, and would not give in an inch. Of course he got his way, just as all determined people usually do. As the time drew fearfully near, Edith began to get nervous and excitable about what ought have troubled her before. She began to be afraid that she might be marring her own life by this hasty marriage. Ever present with her now was an undefinable dread that the shadowy future which she had been so anxious to rush, to for relief from her many worries and perplexities, might after all be worse than what had been. On the evening before her marriage was to take place, all dread passed away, and in its place came an unnatural calm. She scarcely took any notice of what was going on around her, and did not seem interested in the preparations for the morrow. In her ears kept ringing the words — " One fatal remembranca, which throws ' Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes ; To which life nothing darker nor brighter can bring, For which joy has no balm and affliction no sting.' Do what she would, Edith could not help saying these words to herself over and over again. Those dreadful words would not be banished from her thoughts, strive as she might to do so. She roused from her apathy for a time, however, upon the arrival of her future husband'B wedding present, which conButed of an exceedingly handsome gold necklet and locket. As they lay on the white velvet in their scarlet morocco case, Edith looked quite admiringly at them, and forgot for a while that she had ever had anything to trouble her. 'They are far too beautiful for me,' she said, her wide-open blue eyes expressing the utmost pleasure at the gift as Lucy clasped the necklet round her sister's throat. Lucy, too, looked admiringly at them. She had for some time ceased to say anything against Elphinstone, and had tried her utmost to like him, now that it was useless to do otherwise. 'Well, Edith, I should like to be married if I thought I should have such a wedding present as this is.' 1 Isn't it lovely V ' Yes. You ought to have a dark blue silk dress to wear it with, you would look so splendid. I hope you will look lovely to-morrow, and I believe you will.' The 'lovely' colour burnt in Edith's cheeks — partly with gratitude to the giver, and partly with pleasure at being the possessor of such a handsome piece of jewellery. She looked at herself in the glass whilst Lucy spoke, and what she saw there might well make her satisfied with her own appearance, However, ihe only answered ;

'What nonsense, Lucy. If only he thinks I look nice, that is all I want. I do hope I shall be a good wife to him, and that he will^not be disappointed in me.' 'He will be the most exacting, faultfinding man in the universe if he is nob perfectly charmed with you now, and for always, you dear darling sister. I couldn't bear to part with you, only I hope — I hope — you will be happy.' And Lucy threw her arms round her sister's neck, and both had a good cry at the idea of the approaching separation. Long after Mrs Halford thought her daughters asleep, both girls sat at .the open window, with their arms around each other's necks, talking little, but looking out on the still, quiet world, both wishing, perhaps, that the morrow would not come so soon, or so surely as it must. After both had more than once remarked, ' We must go to bed now ; what j would mamma think if she knew we were staying up so late 1 ' two tired heads were laid on their pillows, and soon both were asleep, Edith still hearing those words, until they grew fainter and fainter, as if she were getting further and further away from them, until at last she was quite asleep, and heard them no longer. Bearing in mind what time of the year it was, it is almost unnecessary to say that the day broke fine and warm, with plenty of sunshine. At this time of year the days seem to get so thoroughly into the habit of doing so, that they do not know how to do otherwise. Sometimes they keep on being fine for so long, that one wishes to see a black or at any rate overcast sky, instead of so much sunshine, when one wakes in the morning. If it is a true saying, that * Happy is the bride the sun shines on,' Edith ought to have been a most remarkably happy bride j for plenty of good hot sunshine poured down all that day, until the time when the sun sank amidst banks of clouds of crimson, gold, and brown. Whilst still the blue cloudy mist was on the river, and the sun was only gilding the tops of the trees, and scarce any sound was to be heard save the sweet mournful notes of the bush magpie, Edith ,and her sister ran lightly down the steep bank to the river, there in the sweet early morning to spend some time swimming about in the warm limpid waters, as they always did during the hot summer months. But there was not much time to spare this morning ; so soon, while the dew yet glittered on the long thick grass in the wilderness of a garden attached to their house, the two girls walked up, with their long wet hair hanging over their shoulders. Soon everything was hurry and bustle, and in what seemed to Edith a most incredibly short space of time she was dressed as a bride ; and then — scarcely knowing what she was doing, or what was going on around her— she stood in the church, with her future husband by her side. The usual number of idlers had collected in the church to see the wedding, and many were the comments passed upon her as she stood at the altar, pale and bewildered. ' She is a child, compared to him. I wonder what her parents can have been thinking of, to allow her to marry a man so much older than she is. There is not much love between them, I should say. See how white and frightened she looks ! ' j said one goasipping young lady to her mother. The elder lady, sighing, said : ' Poor young thing ! She does not know what she is undertaking.' Indeed, Edith did not know what she was undertaking when, with faltering voice, she uttered the words which were to make her a wife — ' I, Edith, take thee, Albert, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance ; and thereto I give thee my troth.' As she began her voice was clear, but at the words ' to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part,' it became almost inaudible, even to those nearest her. There were few there then who wished to change places with her, despite her youth and beauty, for a conviction was borne to many that that youth and beauty had been sold to the god of this world — to the demon Mammon ; and for the after events I in her sad marriage many held her alone responsible. But the last words were spoken. They have knelt at the altar as man and wife • and now, for the last time, she signs her own maiden name, ' Edith Halford.' Her courage had returned, and with scarcely a tremor she wrote where she was told. Her husband leant over her, and at his •kiss the warm blushes came to her face ; and now, that it was all over, and the compact irrevocably signed, Edith recovered from the strange terror which had possessed her at the altar. She smiled, and looked happy and pleased at the compliments and good wishes which were showered upon her by her own immediate friends, foremost amongst whom of course, were Mrs Grey and her husband. Mortimer, too, was there, but he could not congratulate her so warmly as his brother and sister-in-law had done, because he knew that for some reason, unknown to himself, the daughter of one of his oldest friends, whilst yet little more than a child, had married a man to whom ' her heart was not given. He felt a deep pity for the young bride before him.

because she had been allowed to go her own way, and, as he thought, for some inexplicable hidden reason of her own childish brain, to marry a man she surely was not in love with, and thus mar all her life. He could not but feel deep regret and anxiety for her future, but tried his best not to show it, and although not succeeding as well as he might have done, Edith herself did not notice his absence of cordiality when he congratulated her on the event. In the afternoon Edith, arrayed in a thin grey cashmere dress, was seated in a railway carriage in company with her husband, on their way to the metropolis, where they were to spend a very short time before settling down in her new home as a wife. To be continued— Commenced in No. 1494 )