Chapter 11.

Otago Witness, Issue 1581, 11 March 1882, Page 25

Chapter 11.

Saturday morning found the 'T' of this .tale bustling about long before bis highness the dun shewed himself. In fact it seemed as though that dignitary, felt perverse to Bhowing himself at .all, for one minute he'd shine forth as though shining forth was his whole -business, the next he'd begin to Bulk and seem to make all cre&tien — I mean Dunedin— sulk too.

JSowever, about eight o'clock; his highness brightened up again, and threw thejwhole light of his glorious countenance upon the city. Some great man, I onoe read about, said' that he felt most religions on a sunny day. Now I won't go bo far as to say that I feel religious, for I'm a regular little heathen, but I know that a fine day makes me feel most jolly, and this was no exception to the rule.. Fred put in an appearance at a quarter to nine and found me ready, with the exception of my mind not being made up as to whether I would carry my ulster or not. '• Don't bother with anything but your dress' is his advice, as he comes in from the door after a consultation with bit) highness, ' it's going to be a scorching hot day. ' ' Very well ; if ie does rain, I'll appropriate yours.', ' Quite welcome, mavourneen,' says Fred, catching hold of my band preparatory to running down the hilL We had agreed upon walking down from Boslyn, and meeting the othere at the tram terminus in Bond street, and we just arrived in time to take pur places in the extra car placed at our disposal. , » • ' Oh i here you are at last, May.' cried Julia, rushing over to the corner where I had managed to squeeze myself in, between a very stout M.P. and the wall. , • l *\ . . * Yes, here we are, and have some respect for your eldest brother's corns,' says Fred from his corner opposite, where he is squeezed as tightly as' myself between the W.M. P.— equally to ■tout as her spouse— and the other wall. ! Why don't you put yputfeet in your pocket, then.'inqdirea Laura, a! younger sister; of JuUa's,' and the very incarnation of mischief and ■langt " •"" 1 Laura,; you £0 down and talk to Mr Grigs, and make room for me here, will you V said Julia,>hereupoa Miss Laura takes her departure, but not before she had managed to make Fred and the stout old lady next him comejnto

oojlision with each other., , , • > ;x; x Then Julia introduces me to the stout old lady, who gives vent to a fat little sigh, and informs me that she was acquainted with my.' pa' on his first arrival here, ''and a handsome lad he was Miss Mabel, said the stout old gentleman, whereupon the stout ' old lady echoes, ' and a handsome lad he was ;' and then, with the, air of'; people who had done their duty, dose away the rest of the journey. ' The rest of the, journey—why it lasted only about fifteen -.minutes altogether, and we were being helped out of the car before we realised we were, there. On the platform Julia was pounced upon by. the 'Hon. Grigs ' and carried 'off/ leaving me to the mercy of -the stout old lady, who, besides being stout, was nervous, and besought me to be ' careful of thji engine shunting back upon us,', as we prepared to ' cross the line.', 1 I had managed to walk the old lady over safely, when Mr Gray— whom I had hot seen before that morning— sauntered up. ' " ' f Good morning, Miss Ghapley, . I ,have been coming, or attempting to come, over to you this last ten minutes, but was held in tow by a young lady in green. There she is yonder— know" her ' , , , - • '^ ' ' ? That is Miss de Vere,'. I said, following the direction ,he pointed, ' a daughter of Sir, Thomas dejVere, of; England.' , . £ . ; ! Ah, a daughter of a baronet, 1b she ? Doesn't look like one.'" •' '

*, Like a baronet? 1 ■ . , , ■ 1 No, like the daughter of a baronet., Upon my word, Mies Ohapley, how ; yon delight in picking a fellow to piecfls.' , • We'll talk plain English,- then 1' I retort, as we join the rest. of the patty oh the sand. There was quite a large number. Besides the Sedgeley's, there were Evy and Nettie Frome, two schoolmates of mine, Messieurs ,Dean and Miller, the devoted admirers of the last-men, tiohed young ladlea, the ' Hon. Grigs,' Julia's cavalier, the, M.P., WM.?., Mr Gray, and myself. Altogether we made a nice little crowd, marching along towards the rooks. at the north end, were we intended to camp ; the old people, chatting jovially together,, and we young people, laughing, flirting, and .romping to our hearts' ccjnieut, Arrived at- the rocks, we* sat down to rest—and fate decrees that my seat Bhall be betwixt the Hon. Mr Grigs and 'Arthur Gray, Eaq. . < Howidly tired. Miss Ohapley V enquires No. 1 gentleman, anxiously, which question No. ,2 takes upon himself to anß.wer, rather irrelevantly, I'm afraid. 'I see Miss Sedgeky beokoning to you, Grigs ; hatfn'fc you better Bee what shs wants V lAh ! of course,? hurriedly says the poor littl - f^uuw, trotting away to join his capricious lady-love, where she has perched herself on a rock <>ut in the ocean.

• What a little fool he is, to be sure,' re J ui Mr Gray, laughing at poor Mr Grigs trying to reach Julia through about five inches deep oi water.

'You seem to think everyone foolish, Mr

ray. 'No, I don't. Misß-Chapley, for instance, is a veritable little wiseacre.' • Misß Ohaploy iB much obliged, but having heard Mr Gray's opinion of New Zealand girls, is not inclined to bolieve him.' 'My opinion of New Zealand girls P' ' Yes, your opinion of New Zealand girls,' I answer. •How? When? Where?' ' Wei), as to how you said it. If you how as an adverb of manner, yon said it in a very loud voice.'

'Go on. We'll bring a grammar with us next time. 1

• WJien you said it, was after the tram Btarted —about half -past nine. ,And the place wlwz you enid it was, of course in the tram.' • Well, I never ! and you denied being a wiseacre? Baid Mr Gray. ' No, I only denied your thinking me one.'

' How do you know what I thick V * X don't know what you think— only what you Bay.' ,v, v • ■<-■ ~ ; 'Well, whatever I said, be sure, if it was anything libellous to New Zealand girlr, I only g»id it for that aaob, Mlbh de Vere.' „ < ' Mks de Vere U a lady-DQt » eoob,' I »n»'

awer, forgetting in my warmth, that it is not Hal whom I am looturing. • Miss Ohapley/ said Mr Gray, so abruptly as to startle me, 'where were you educated V 'At different places.' „ , „ it ♦ I mean where were you " finished/? as they °«I« I never was " finished " ; in fact I don't think I have begun yet, but the last school' l was- at was the "Normal."' . r , 'Did all the girls turn out models of propriety, like you V ■ .- • ,s ' Yes j that was our normal condition. Hut. there's Laura calling us to lunch/ . I say, anxious to break off, this tete-a-tete conversation which has grown too serious for my liking.

Luncheon was spread on a la'ge rock which' mother ocean seemed to have set there for the express purpose. She might have added a few smaller ones for seats while 1 she was about it, but aa she didn't, i the company help them* selves off the table, and then 'squat 'round it

and masticate. ' ■ • This is jolly,' remarks Laura; who is Bitting next me. ~ ' I say, May, hand as that chicken • ' off the table, 1 will yon? I feel hungry enough < f a dozen 1

or a uiuidu. 1 1 verily believe that girl would eat her relationsif she were hard up, 9 said Mr Frome, = who himself lookri as though he never ate any- ' thing,' and who just now fe, to all appearance, ' feasting on love. -' f •■ ' » • ?Well, I'm glad you're not one of niyrela-' tions, for there wouldn't be much picking on you anyway,' 'retorts wicked Laura, thereby causing a general laugh at the expense of the' lean gentleman, who looks as though he has ' ' put his foot in it ' somehow. f There, now, perhaps after that he'll leave mv ooor aDDetite a'on* ' "««narks Lj**" in a■ '

whisper. ' I say, May,' she continues, ' what were yon and the knight talking about so long T 'The who? 1 .. - . • * The knight— Cousin Gray. I call him the knight 'cause he's awfully good-looking. Yon and him are spoons aren't you ?' ' > • 'Spoons?'

■ * Yes, Bpoons/ says Laura, attacking a jam ■ tart, regardless of all table etiquette, ' at least he's spoons on you.' • » ' How do you know V ' How do I know? Why anyone with halt ' an eye in their head could tell it. Look at the ' way he looks at you.* Here I glance across and meet Arthur Gray's eyes with an expression in them that causes me to make up my mind to avoid him for the rest of that day at least. For is he not the future husband of my friend, although she does flirt with the Hon. Grigs ? But that only shows how she trußtß me/ 1 think, as I sit in a cleft between two rocker, where I have found a seat after luncheon, but not before taking thepre* caution of securing the M.P.'s good lady f o* ■ company. ■ ' ; ■ " v v She, dear old soul, finds the heat overpower* ; ing, and' in about ten minutes is asleep .with ' her head pillowed on my shoulder, so I am, in " reality as much alone 'as if she were not with, me at all* However, they ' will not' miss me* ' and will never think of looking for me here, •• .an|d I can see anything they' do without being Been mvaelf ' ' ' •'■• "

i Far away; near the Bandhilte; Nellie Fromfl ■ /and Jack Miller are walking, apparently un« •" .aware of the existence of anyone else, on the • beach at least.' Down' near 'the water Fred Sedgelby and the baronet's daughter are picking np shells 'and seaweed, while ' Laura fa ' 'splashing about, with her bare feetj mubh tio her < ov^n eatisfactidn and the annoyance of 'the* Eon* ■ GrigSj whom she see's fitto drag in after her; ••• Tne elderly ' gentlemen are smoking v oonfeen« tentedly in the shade of the rocks, while their " better halves read aloud in turns for their edification. 'Of Julia I can 'bee' no sign whaterer, ' and as 1 Mr Gray Is also invifiible,'l coiiae to the ' oonclnsion that they too, have 'strolled of! to'ether.' Well.' what more proper? ' ' r '

My companion Bleeps on, and I am .nearly , ' followinfher example, when a' splasfi of .koine* thing cold on my, face, startles me. /My firaC thought was that the water had risen, bat hap 1 ! pehing to look upwards,*! found that the bind \ eky had ohanged to .a dusky grey, and there was every Biffn'bfagood do wrip'ouf.. : > •" "'■ , On the beaoh, I' could see, they were ran' . nipg to seek the shelter which was afforded by the steep 'embankment, so, waking my stout friend, I proposed our going there also. ' But this she opposed, Baying we> were better ..otf l where we were, so, opening my umbrella, used only two short hours ,'ago to' protect otir faces from the too ardent rays of the Bun, we made .ourselves aa comfortable as possible under the rainy circumstances. - ' ; " ," How it rained,' to be sure. Not a miserable little phower/buta proper waterfall, There's one thing about Dunedin you'll credit; perhaps, and that is, that we do a thing properly- while jwe're about it, I say mentally, watohing Mr Gray ploughing his way through the sand; with Julia, her pretty cardinal dress draggled and drenched, hanging, on his arm. While I was thus apostrophising, the ' proper waterfall ' thought proper to find us out and began trickling down our backs in a manner most annoying. Thanks to Fred's good advice, I was attired in a thin muslin drees, v which, no matter how fashionable it had looked in the morning, bow resembled nothing so 'much' as it ! resembled one of Hetty's tea-cloths. Besides being wet.it feels cold, and remembering Rred'a promise , concerning his ulster, I help my twin panion to her feet, and we make the best of our way down to where the rest arecrouohed under the embankment. ' . „" I find Fied's ulster, and wrapping it round me, set off with' Laura across the' sand to the* railway station, for the younger portion of us are quite agreed that staying there any longer, is altogether out of the question. Fortunately, half-way across, we meet the van returning for the hampers, and in it are packed the remainder of the party, who, one and all; are grumbling about the climate of New Zealand, which climate, only this morning, was pronounced by the distinguished M.P. to be ' one of the best under the sun, sir.'

■ Arrived at the station we find that there U not another train till ten minutes to five, and it is only now four o'clock. Therefore,. driving the gentlemen ont on the platform, we ladies, ' convert .the. shed into a dressing-room, and' make ourselves straight, so as not to ' shook the , common people,', as Laura said.

'1 hat young lady was, as usual when anything extraordinary occurred, in her glory I Running up and down the platform, with her, dark curls blown about with the wind, and tierprettily piquant face aglow, she formed a prettysight to see— flo pretty, in fact, that one of the ' common people,' in tbe form of a cow-boy, Btood openmouthed, loßt in admiration! on the rails, while his cattle wandered at their own; sweet will.

At last the engine came snorting up, and, after watching with breathless interest the shunting off and on of the cars, we took, our places— my seat being between Miss deVero and Fred Sedgeley. ' Where did you get to at the beach, May f F/ed asked.

'On the rocks, to enjoy the breeze/ I answer.

'Did you get wet?' inquired Misi da. "ere, - t ■ , ';' ."- ~ j..' l should have done If It, had not bean 1 for Frea's «leter. Th»t k^pt ma pretty dh,' '

•My ulster? I lent mine to Nelly Froroe, thinking you didn't want it, as yon didn't °°Here Vied to called to the outside of the oar. and leaven me utterly at a lobs what to th i?it ia not Fred's ulster I have on, whose is it ? All the gentlemen have either their ulsters on their backß or on their arms, except Fred, i and Fred's is, according to his account, in Nellie Frome's keeping. No solution of the mystery is arrived at till we reaoh town, when I am considerably enlightened by seeing Mr Gray with Mb ,bat turned down all round, the collar <of tois light tweed coat turned up, and looking as drenched as anyone could wish. The rain' still poured down steadily, and the streets looked as though the Corporation carts had. been busy for a month. Walking home was out of the question, no Fred started off in one direction, and Mr Gray in another, in search of oabs. In about ten minutes they returned with three o£ these just now welcome vehicles, and in them we were installed, lookbg like bo many drowned ratß. Thei ulster, which I knew now to be Mr Gray's, still formed part of my dress when the cab stopped at the gate for me to alight. The owner had accompanied the M.P. and his wife to thei?. hotel,; thereby giving me no chance of returning it. • No, dear, keep it on. It's a long way from the gate to the house, and you'll get wet, Mrs Sedgeley said, when I offered- it to her oh carting, and as the cab drove on immediately, there was nothing left for me but to keep it, thereby risking a vißit from Mr Gray on the morrow* _ ..»«■« On gaining the house I was met by Messieurs Hal and Bertie, accompanied by an old urn. brella, promenading up and down the yard. To drive Bertie in was the work of a moment ; Master Hal I left alone, for he no Booner caught sight of me than he inquired if I didn't want a belltopper to complete my costume. In, .the dtoing-room I found a telegram addressed ' Miss Ohapley, Elfin Knoll, Koslyn. Opening It, I found it to be a despatch from f Edwin Oaapley, Oflshel street, Ohristchurcb,' Informing me that * Mrs 0. fancies this place ; home on Tuesday.' Far from adding to my fears, these two brief sentences considerably remove them, for there is now one day more to • trim your lamps and be ready,' as Hal generally sings on these occasions. Sunday morning broke bright and cold, with ft good stiff breeze blowing from the hills. Leaving. Betty to prepare the cold luncheon, which always forms our mid-day meal on the Beventh day of the week, I accompany Hal and the. eldest of the, seven to S*. John's. The Sedgeley's pews are: empty this morning Evidently they are knocked up with yesterday'a outing. I spend the rest of the day reading • The Old Curiosity Shop,' whioh I had found while .on. an exploring expedition in an old cupboard one day last week, and with wbiph I am enchanted, for, as I stated, my,' education ' is not began yel-a foot yon will believe when I. state jthat as yet I have only read four of Oat creat^writer'sworks^ Just now,, Mowing Nell •ndner grandfather about In their wanderings, and reading with breathless interest the doings If that horrid monster, Mr Quilp, the day flits: «o quickly as to bring bed time too Boon for my Krra rare, thing on Sundaya at Elfin: K Monday, In the bustfe that pervades In tt« ioSe all day, .there fc no time for me to think Sbout.vlsitorß. 'Tueßday,' asatated. In the telegram, jjneant Tuesday, morning, to theie wm bareiv time to get the house into that stale , cf perfection/which, I« expected by my atopmamm» ' afters her absence, from it As she dm been away, longer thai usual thii summer, the libuße mart be in a greater, utate of cleanh nesaftbwivUHnaL. Hj>i at,Jeast fe aa i«olean as hands can make it,'— to quote Betty— and lo keep it in: that state the children are coaxed Into having their tea in the kitohen, with %, promise of «Bcreamera' -made, by her own Tftwpuldbe a yery.rare thing, lndeed, ifsthese ooor^little' innocents were allowed tp eat their Seaii without being lectured. To-night, espedally,', r deliver a lecture, with every /help' My 'ordinary' proceeding to to give , one good general one i but this is an extraordinary meal, So •wordtafothey get »*** amonnt ot ' •talk? 1 , .. fl \ { "• ". • Bertram Burgoyne, 1 1 say to my youngest stepbrother, as I turn a * "creamer' In the pan, "'have you been , picking the fruit • YouWl have,' replied Bertie with truth and'slang* little bit mixed.' 'That's, right, Bertie, always tell the truth. I suppose you know the name of the little boy who wouldn't tell a lie, a long while ago!' I say, approvingly. , .«'„*, 'What little boy?' queries Master Bertie. • The one you' told ub about yesterday V Now t tell them about so many little boyc, (rood and bad— little boys that never exuted, and 'little' bbyßwho did— that lam not sure aborit the date ; but it would not do to let my pupils know this, bo, therefore, I Bay : j now tell me hta name.' •It' was George, I know,' essays Mhe Oertrudeßurgoyne, from over the towel which serve* for a bib; ♦How do ym know it was George?' I Inquire, «harply, rubbing the Bmoke out of my mutters something about a certain "<seorKy Dean.' So letting her off with a gentle "admonition about playing with little fcoy», I return to my first victim. •Now, Bertie, Ms name 1 • George something, wasn't it,' says poor 6 «Noi fit wasn't George Something,' I anawer- t ' ' ' Sir George V inquire* Bffie. 4 Ys-ep.' I assent, a little doubtfully. "Sir Gflbrrfe Grey,' shouts Bertie, trium nhantly. ' I knew I knowed.' • Ha ; very good,! said a voice ; and turning, I beheld the face of Mr Gray looking in at u» through the open window. ' Good evening, Miss Ohapley ; may I come in?' he asks. ' 'If you like,' I say, crossly. What business has h° coming round the back way ? And my f aoa black, no doubt, and the kitchen in each a at ate. Mr Gray responds to my kind invitation by on to the window-sill, and then on to the floor ; and seeing, no doubt, that there is '• war ' written on every inch of my charmiug countenance, begins in a very pleasant voice : • I thought you were all out, Miss Chapley.'

"Indeed!' * Yea, I assure you I knocked until I thought I would have the guardian angel,, in the Bhape of tht?'bott>rjgh .policeman, descending upon mr, so to escape any collision with that dignitary, I came round the back way.' m The fact of this big American having to go roundtheback waymollifiesma somewhat, and I Sttnnite if h« would have » cup oJ tea, • iUfc would not bs too much trouble.' I asstnto him that it wiH be no trouble whatever, and proceed to make that comfortn g beverage in the silver teapot, which I have -smuggled out of the dining-room for that ex ■preM purpose. ... , , ' I hope you do not mind drinking ft Ist * (kitchen. Mr, Gray,' I aak. 'Ib this the VltchenP Nice, comfortable $te(s Itywby»aouldJtata 0 p

I know of no reason why he should mind, so I poor out the tea and hand it to him, where he •is still seated, on the window sill. Then my visitor falls staring at me as though I were one of the curiosities in the Museum. Perhaps he was wondering which way I looked ugliestfull face, side face, or three-quarters. These reflections do not help to make me any cooler, or more collected, and cause me to make some very strange mistakes, suoh as, trying first to drink my tea without sugar, and then in a ecalding state. I don't know how long he would havestared, if I had not disturbed him by aaking for his teacup, and then by inquiring if he had not come over for hig ulster. • No, I did not come over for my ulster. I came over for something else. f Something of your own ?' I ask, wondering what else we have belonging to him. ' No, it's not my own yet ; but I hope it will be before I leave.' 'Oh !'— this is a very long ' oh ' indeed. 'Yes. Will you come into the garden, May? ' My name's Mabel, Mr Gray, and you have evidently been reading Wild Will Eaderby lately. Haven't you ?' | !No. Whydoyou-ask?' 'Because there's a Mabel in that story, and—' • Well,', he said, interrupting me, ' and isn't Mabel the prettiest girl, and wasn't she the prettiest girl of the lot?' f Don't you like Julia ?'— l meant the name, but he misunderstood me. .' Of course I like Julia. She'%right enough for a cousin. By the way, I met Grigs as I i came down here, and he told me that he and ! Julia are engaged. Are you astonished ?' I don't think I answered that question, for the teapot, upon which I ■ had my eyes fixed, began to whirl itself very suddenly round, then the dresser and dishes followed suit, and I remember no more till I opened my eyes, and' found myself on the old garden seat with 'Arthur Gray beside me. And then, like a goose, I began to cry, and blurted out all my suspicions about himself and Julia, for which confession I was rewarded in a manner highly satisfactory to myself, and to somebody else as well. ' But I thought you didn't like New Zealanders,' I said. ' Neither do I. But you're not a New Zea* lander, you are a Maori. 1 Not very complimentary certainly, and I don't believe there is any- difference between i the-two ; but as I see you are tired, and to make a long story short, we are going in the Botomohana to Melbourne next week, on our honeymoon trip, which fact, Hal says, is owing to that apple-skin. •