Chapter XXVIII. Love-Ghosts Haunt the Churchyard.

Otago Witness, Issue 1762, 29 August 1885, Page 24

Chapter XXVIII. Love-Ghosts Haunt the Churchyard.

What was it that prompted Vinnie a clay or two after' this to turn into the old churchyard ? She had not passed' its 'gate since the night pf lier attempt to drown herself. She had always felt a shudder come' over her when she thought of it. Yet this morning when returning from •her mother's lodgings to Fitzurse House,, she felt drawn and driven by a curious phantasy to go out of her way for the purpose of taking one look at the spot which was so long sacred to her love and her happiness. She reached the gate, opened it in a half-fearful way, as if something paiuful must happen to her should she go inside; and she went inside. She made her way to the ' wall that overlooked the river, and stood there a moment and recalled the memories of 'that dreadful'night. The place was in solitude • the i solitude aiid the sight ,of the water sent a chill' through her ; she turned away and feeling weak and faint she sat, down; just as she used tp sit when she was waiting for Walter in the old days. ' ', ',',','",, \ Well, she was recovering from all that madness, she thought, and, perhaps it might, have,, been as well if she had not come into this cliurch'-' yard so soon again. But she would have tq see the old places' and she must be able to bear it ; she, would' have' to' see him again, an.d be able to bear that. Suddenly, she heard the gate move aiid she knew that someone, had entered the churchyard. She did not look up ; she kept' her eyes .fixed on the ground; she /wanted to, see nobody ; if possible', hot to be fle'en. ' The' steps came nearer au'd nearer ; it seemed as ,if they were now coming directly £0 her ; and she heard her name spoken. . " "Vinnie!" ' ' '' \ The word made her tremble and start. She looked up, and with crimsoning cheeks saw that' it was Walter Fitzurse who stood beside her. Oh, what memories of happy, hopeful <lays.and evenings,' sunny afternoons, soft dusk, quiet, contented hours in the glow o K f the fireside, with Mrs Lammas at her work a litble removed — what memories like these came rushing upon Vinnie ! as she saw him with his eyes fixed beseechingly on her ! And then what recollections of bitter disappointment and desolation, of cruel loneliness aud tho agony of waiting in yam ; of paiu, and 'madness, aud desperation, and of lliat. ghastly 'midsummer-night's dream ; that moment on the 1 chnrcbyard wall, that wild look up at tile BkyJ that plunge into the swift rushing river! Out ojc -that river she seemed to have come up a

new human being. J Youthf In'd' n^erlrnl'ibve, and disappointment, all were buried -for her in that j stream. Ye.t : to ' se'e'nim 1 agpfran'd'to Hfe,', spoken to by him,' seemed ' almost 'ad tf 'ft 'could' bring; back the former Vinnie^liammas f.again,? and torture her with the same misplaced love and the same cruel disappointment.- He ought"not to have come near, hjer % oi spoken .to]herj she thought ; and yet, of course, it must be sooner or later,) and perhaps he was right to get it overat >.. once.! She was determined that she would ndt-'"' show 1 any weakness; the past was the past for 1 ' ' her. i "Mr Fitzurse ! " she said, making a desperate' '*' effort, and looking up to him with dazed eye 3" i! which hardly saw anything ; ' " I am,so glad 'you. 3 are come home again. I didn't expect 'to "see''you here." . ■' »*"' . " N^, Vinnie ; and I didn't expect to seej/oM 1 ;, I turned in quite by chance just to have a lbok ; at the old place. But I ajn very glad to 'see you " Vinnie." ■' ' ' ' '• '"" f ' ' *>•• . " Thank you?' said Vinriie, rattier blankly. " I > am glad that you are well ; and— rind— l think' I .' I had'better be going.'" ' '• ' >'.'•:•• • " One moment Vinnie as we have met — w.e' ■ haven't met, you know, for a long time— l warii . to know — I should like— l hope you'hav'e'learn'efl ' to forgive me v ?" ■ _ ' J •''" .""( <\ , He I spoke in a low,' pathetic^ pleading" 'tone^ ' and looked very humble and bese'ecHjng.^ ' ' ■' l ' : " I flon't know that I have anything to for- :,.': ,.' give, Mr Fitzurse; I think it .was al^myown.' 1 ' 1 Fault, j I was very silly ; t I fancied you we're' very, ; really; in love with me; and that, jt ( would 'last' ' like that for ever. I know now what 'nbflsense'" 1 i that was, and how young gentlemen'lifee" to 'flirt, ' j as much as they can witti any' girl that comes^n" ' i their jway; and I thought it alt'meant'Bpme-''^ [ thing, and now, of course, t know it' meant'" I nothing." , ,„' '". ! ' '• Stall, I want to hear you say thai; you forgive 1 / me; I cannot feel at rest in "my heart 'until I :< ! hear you say youforgive me." 'n " ' "'", " <! ,' - ''' i , " Oh, yes, I forgive you, if I have' anything to ,'. f orgivb, and I can't forgive myself quite as easily. ( I hope you will be happy ; very, happy, 'Mr'Fits/-''"" urset-fall' your life." The tears in 1 hef^eyes were Jr '; blurring for her the spene and 'the' < 6utlin'es,of'". his face. , ■ ' ' ''->'''?•?' ■;;!» -if i " ! I don't deserve happiness ; I did you great" wrong"; I don't Inib.w how it 'was— 7V" ?" " l' H " ' " It. was all very natural' and easy tb[ under'- " t stand," Vinnie said. , " You had on|y Imbwn Jrae '? a short time, and you 'thought' 1 yqu^you'eared 1 '" about !me ; and then you saw a beautiful youbij" : lady, rich, and of rank, and educated.' and clever, ' r and all that ; and of, course you fell ah' I<jv6 t with " her. You couldn't^ help'that'; ! 'and sh'e'js Inucn.^' better) suited to ypu than I c'oulffWer have been 1 ! — andi don't mind about me; "I anY/ill right f" people are very kiuci tp-'meVand T'hop'e^you " may bp very happy ;' and sh'e^-and' piease"l 'tmrilc'" Imustgonow: ( " ''/ ..- ';■". ' , ' »t-"»i;;'»'».» t -"»i;;'»'». " I should have' been very happy, Vinnie,' if 'l h ' -hadn^ver seen' her; I should haW'beeil 'v'ery' ;- happyjwith you - — -','' ,'' „' '-, ' ;J! ' "'"' , "Oh no, ho, no," she exdaimed, vehemently,," "don't say that; if never' could hayebeen'l we* 1 l never were meant for'pneanoth'er ;J,tlijhk Lfelt. '* that, br I feared' it, even'at the tijne.y,''Yoif ' '. ought to be in 'society' aiid make 1 ; a. fi v g l ure''m'ilje''- vF < world; you were, made f ot" t it and'.bprn 'fbrJtFV? 51 and I ! am only a poor" 1 little /girl/'anoV I shVufd' '"' have been a mere dragon ypuanda'deaaweig'fit-'" j on you— and oh !, 'it's ever so much' better 'as 'it'. '' is, and I shall soon cpmeto be reconciled to it."" Athrpbof keen and cowardly deUgiit; wen^J,* through him. She was not yet reconciled kqit^-r,. ,' that was quite clear; she loved him stip. HeftadJ/ come into the churchyard without .the.slightest "',.' expectation of seeing Vjniiie, and, |to "s'a^'.the",' truth, I without one single' thought, concerning L her. t He had for the time shaken off all modify f, of her,] and his. chief .idea in entering , the pjiur phi, '" yard was that it would "be pleasant Inowjin^ft),©.' , pride of . his success to, have a. ,lpok','a^ .^lie^olct place where he used to hang abo*ut.in,hjs,ijn^u'c- t s ! cessful days! The.sudden .sight, of.yujriie/s'iir^f prised him aud roused /h^fc'uriosity^^JJVhyj.tiacl^ 1 she come there? Was it" because' she ysts; s#U thinking of him? This. 'Was Jnl;erestin.g\j spoke to'her, and "from the moinenVof 'faifiiipy. '.',' he went on without any clefiniiie^-purgose, ..du^" such as each"' ,ne!w',word or/ to'ne.!or gesiap^' of , /' heirs might suggest;, i In a fe|\v uist^nts^he'fo^iid^'' 1 himself playing jthe, tenderjap'wiog^e.tic"^^''©!', , fi one who', too late, discovers that^Ho" fias ■6nrdwn x .j'P' q pearl away richer than all, his Jjjrfbe. j lived ! mainly for success,' iv life* bu^.unforNiu'^ nat'ely'fqr him, his power to r plajjf.^p / ?irt } h l p.d /! a*^'" strangely incongruous aud' ian£t>sjac,sßiii, injtt-; f ''* and he was' always" turning aside ( to'iuctulg6"in 'a '.' mood of semi-sensupus" and '/dreamy, sentimen^', fcalism.. , That was tb^ 'one defect which' fo^'hJS'* I other objects filled Him with' 'fa,ulik \\ For Itlie' * moment it was nothing to^him^ha^'he^a^'tHie' '' recognised and received, husband of an' earl's'" grand-daughter. ", ' Fate 'had Vinnie ' Lammas in his way; Viunie Lammas', whomih'e''/' bad tossed aside so heedlessly, and abp.ut-^lipin. c ;: ' half an hour before '< he cared/ no nipve'than'h'ej''' cared for "Sally in our a}l'ey;" and behold t'e"' J f ' must sit down ,by her anil indulge' c himSelf r iri', ' playing for a few minutes 'the part of 'tHe/'re-J 1 ' ' pentant lover who comes, too late, to' see' the' :'" full value of tbe love-treasure he'has lost.' He __ sat clown by Vinnie' ancl ondeayoured'tq' w take"° her hand. He had no evil^iurpose ; .no deliberate; purpose of any kind. Chance \ threw, in, his wajf the opportunity of a fresh 'ancfinteresting'seijlti-' lf ! mental sensation, and he "could 'iiot for .the'life 1 ' ' of him resist the temptation/, ymme <! drej#BerV'. ' hand away ancT got up. ' '.'• '„,,' r ,'/| r/ \x '' ," „>''', "You are 'right,.", lie ( safd," rising also / and ' 'standing not quite so close ( ' to her aV v before ; " You are right, dear, .Vinnie, and 1 1 was'wir6ng.";" She did not ask him,,wjiat he' m^aht'^'altupugll' 0 she had not been offering'any ojDinioM'as^tcJthe'' 1 ' right oj.- wrong o^any thing.. J f ",^'^Y'«' > \ . ' "I was wrong in 'attempting* to xoucii .your. ! hand,"'he'said,/' ( or \o sit, near. you 1 , oil 1 W^etSjii'" 1 you Her e. .W/e are nothing to' each'b;ther any more and should keep apart. , 'We ( shall h'ave'to see I each other, I suppose, but wg must not' meet any more'; for I don't v ( 'cali' seeing each other'in a ' crowd or in a room with' other people — I v don't call that meeting. You will love,' someone yet • ■who will be better worth your love than I- was ; andtyou will be happy.'. I almost wish! had not - come in here tofday; but, how did, I know? Ttiei-e jis a fate in these" things,' l' supjposei , ;GoOcl-bye.'" . " .'' • ' ." .. . .c/" ' "'6hj Walter— Mr Fitzurse," she exclaimed. "* How ,1 .wish you had not come here to-day I Why did I come here? 7 What brought me? _ I was getting recqnciled and quiet, and I thought - ; I was able to'bear anything ;' and I, was getting over the memory of that dreadful night. .Oh^ why must I think of it ?" '' ' " '. "What night, Vinnie ?, What dreadful night ?» Ho asked this question iv all sincerity. • ' « That nißut— oh, don't you know?.' Oh,'you do know-the night-tbat Sunday mght-^when' ; I came bore and tried to^ drown y myself— flung- ' myself into the river——" ' ' ,"_ ' ,',', . ' "Vinnie! Vinnie! I never heard— l neverknew anything about this. ' What night was it P^ Why did you do it?"' ' „.'•* 1 .«,'."; « I dicl it because I was mad, because I was ufr love with you, and you cTidiiH'care abbut'me ahy l^ more ! , I* was oiilya' little while ago, tie Sunday,-' night when you went away— wenfaway-^I 'mean ! *

z

¥

I

when' you went to be married to Miss Lisle. Oh, I was so miserable and so wild I hardly knew what I was doing, and I wanted to be out of life, and I came here and flung myself into the water — and I must have been drowned only for Mr Romont "

" Only for Mr Romont ! Did he save you ? Was it he? 1 ' '

"He saved me — he is so strong and brave ! Sometimes T wish he hadn't saved me, but he did; 'and he and Mr Pilgrim brought me to the Rectbiv^-ahd' then. every one was kind to me, And Mrs' Pollen is so good — and I was getting Detter — and I wish, Walter Fitzurse, that you hadn't 'dome here to-day, or that I hadn't come — and 'why, #hy, why, didn't you let me alone?" Tiie poor' girl fairly broke down in tears and Hysterics'; • She 1 was terrified at the thought of falling back again into her old love. She felt like sdme Weakling lover of drink who has been doing his best 1 to keep temperate and sees temptation suddenly thrust under his very eyes ; who longs to be reformed and finds all his worser nature craving for drink, and who can only moan drid shudder at the thought that if this last long enough' the spirit of evil must carry the day. , She, sat down again, and Walter sat beside her moite boldly now; A sensation of mere triumph was 'filling him. Vinnie had tried*to drown herself for' love of him ! That was. magnificent romance, but one cannot have everything ; and there 'was a bitter drop in the' thought that Romont had saved her, that Romont knew all about him! and his love affair with Vinnie ; that Vinnie had probably told it all to Romont ; that Rcfm'ont would remembeE how the very first night Walter arid he met, Romont had talked a good' deal ! about Vinnie and her supposed lover vk Fitzurseham, and had not suspected' that the lover was sitting there before him. Walter began to be almost borne down by the thought of the number of things which Romont knew about him/and'the drekd of his some day letting them alTouV *■■•■■" • « t hope', Vinnie,'' he said gravely, "you did iioti'tbjnk of confiding to Mr Romont, or to anyone, else; that chapter in our history which has ended so strangely for both of us ? It would not b^ ufce'yquto do that." "■'"'* t never told anyone," Vinnie said, flushing a little ; ," I was never asked any question by anypne; they are all too kind and good to think of cross-questioning me— and I didn't know it until *f jfer'' that r it was Mr Romont who saved me ; I didnji'know.it until next day ; and I never spoke one word tobim 'about it ; I never even thanked him ]"l thought he would rather I didn't; at least that he would think perhaps it pained me to say anything about it, and so would rather I I didri'tV for he wouldn't misunderstand me, I knoyrl" , ,, t , ' / ' "Walter Fitznrse was conscious of a positive pang 'of jealousy shooting through him keen as a physical pain. He was made jealous by Vinnie's evident admiration for Romont. " She js.'in"l6ve with, him — they all like him — every one," was his thought. '' "Well,; Vinnie," he said, "we must part. I mustn't keep you here: lam glad we have met again; 'and sorry, too, I think, but we should have to meet some time, and it is as well we•ho'uld have our first meeting here, in this old place' I this dear old place. You do not love me »ny, more,' Vinnie. Why should you? How . jjoujdyou?" , ; '„' " ' ' " w You. shouldn't even say such words," Vinnie raid, with some 'spirit ; "you are married; you have a' clever and a beautiful wife ; you couldn't think so badly of me as to suppose that I could care.about'ybu'any more — except as a friend, of course," she added, ' '.KYou /will ■ love someone else soon," he said, watching her keenly ; why should you not ? Perhaps already " Biut the girl. stopped him in his speech, t , "Oh • "ft shaaae," she sobbed, breaking down again in. tears,; "why do you talk so? Why can't you let me alone ? Fancy your telling me that I am in love with some one else already !" „ Fitzurse triumphed in his heart, " She loves me still," he said to himself; "that is quite dear.", , ' " Qood-bye, Vinnie." He held out his hand, but Vinnie ran past him and out of the gate, and was gone. - < Fitzurse walked complacently to the Rectory to go out for a drive with Janette, who was pining for him, and was beguiling the dreary time of his short absence by discoursing to Camiola

•bout 'his gifts and his virtues. Fitzurse was 1 made* more tender than ever with Janette by the thought that Vinnie Lammas was still in love with 'hum The knowledge gratified his selflove', and made him all the more willing to be loving to his wife. He had, be it said, no evil purposei in his mind, as regarded Vinnie. It would have been of no avail so far as she was concerned ; but hi fact he had no such thought.

He was delighted to think that Yinnie was still

in love with him, and he was pleased that he , had. met her and had drawn what was really an acknowledgment of this from, her, and that was enough for him. .He would tell Janette the wholes stony sometime, he thought — the story a ' little edited in his own interest. It would come out, we may be sure, a story of hopeless passion on the one side, and heroic magnanimity on the other,- , „ ■ ' -••"Wherehave you been; child?" Mrs Pollen said, as she stood on the lawn and Vinnie came up to her. - , < M I've been to see mamma, and I gave her your message." M Yes, that's right ; but what happened to you on the way back ? Did you meet any one ? " "Oh, Mrs Pollen, why do you ask?" She was frightened. "Well, because I know the sight of your mother, whom you see every night, didn't throw you'into a state of confusion that lasted from her 1 house quite .on to mine. You have been ■ crying ; let me look at your eyes. Come now ; |'v tell you one thing you have been doing. ha.ye been in the old churchyard." • »• Oh,' bow do you know?" w Vou have been there, and you have been crying there ; I can see that; and I know why." Mrs Pollen suspeqted at first nothing more than that' Vinnie had gone into the ohurchyard to indulge in morbid fancies and unwholesome memories there. " Ycu must not go there for a long time, bhild— until you have got over all this: ' It is not good for you to keep the past in your recollection. I guessed that you had been to that 1 place the moment I saw your face." Then she saw another expression pass quick as a flash of light across Vinnie's face — the expression of one who has something more to tell, but fears or does not know how to tell it. "Oh, there is something more, then? I have not heard all?' You met someone in the churchyard — of course, I see it all now, You met Walter Fitsurse there, That is what hapr pened." M Oh, Mrs Pollen, I never thought of seeing Urn there • I never thought of such a thing. I wouldn't have gone in there for all the world if I had any idea of his ever being there now." ' "No, 'Vinnie ; lam quite sufo of that. I couldn't for a moment suspect you of any wish • to see him again." 11 Oh, no, no, no," poor Vinnie murmured. " H JJut he talked to you, and he was pathetic

wasn't he? Hespokeof the old days, and excused, himself, and all that ; and rather implied that it was a pity things hadn't ended otherwise, and destiny, and all that sort of thing " ' " Why, surely, Mrs Pollen," Vinnie asked with wide-open and affrighted eyes, "you never could have been there ? You didn't hear ? " Mrs Pollen smiled complacently. She was right, then, in her guesses. The rest would be "I wasn't there, child, and I have heard nothing whatever about what he said or you said, j but I have some experience of the world, and of men, and of girls ; and I know what that sort of man would say under the circumstances ; and I think I know what he wanted to get you to say. Shall I tell you?" " No ; please don't;" Vinnie' said, much distressed. "Yes, I must; to show you what sort of person he is, and how much a matter of common form all this sort of thing is. Well, let me see ; he hoped you would be happy with someone else, didn't he ? and said you would soon find someone worthier of youn love than he had been ? " " Oh, but how do you know ? " " Regular sort of thing, my dear child ; might as well be got off by heart out of a ' polite-letter-writer' or sent about in circulars. Then he asked you if you hadn't already found someone to love ; and then you burst into tears and made it only too plain to him that you hadn't. Is that the whole story, Vinnie ? " Poor Vinnie had to confess with renewed shame and tears that that was the whole story ; that Mrs Pollen knew it all as well as if she had been a listener. Mr Pollen had /given her a sharp and wholesome lesson. AH that Walter had said must be in the common trick of such men, else how could Mrs Pollen have known it ? — and he was merely playing it off on her to amuse his own vanity. " He is not.worth thinking about," Mrs Pollen said. . " Don't you think he ever cared for hie any time ? " Vinnie asked timidly. " Never cared, and never will care, for you or anyone in the world but himself," was Mrs Pollen's answer. She was determined to call Vinnie's still undestroyed sense of self-respect to her rescue, even though she had to sting it into action. (To he continued.)