Chapter XVII.

Otago Witness, Issue 1926, 15 January 1891, Page 34

Chapter XVII.

The parlour of Grocombe Vicarage was but a small room and a shabby one. There was a drawing room which was the admiration of the parish into which all visitors were shown, but Mrs Hill and her daughters had too much respect for it to use it commonly ; and the centre of their domestic life was the parlour, where all their makings and mendings were done, and where Agnes did not disdain to boil the eggs in the morning and make the toast for tea, both of which operations were so much better done, she thought, when " you did them yourself." She had been making a dress for her mother ; indeed, the yery dress in which Mrs Hill intended to appear "at the ceremony," and the large old sofa which stood between the door and the window was rendered unavailable for all the ordinary uses of a sofa by l having the materials of this dress stretched out upon it. Mary was in a chair by the fire with ajwhite knitted shawl wrapped round her, much oppressed with her cold. There was a ljttle tea kettle upon the old-fashioned hob of phe grate. It may be supposed with what a start of discomposure and vexation the invalid of the moment started up when the door of this sanotuary was flung open and the visitors appeared. | Fearful under any circumstances would have I been the sight of Letitia to Mary at this moment, but in the drawing room she might at least have kept at arm's length. She stumbled to her feet with a cry; her nose was red, her eyes were streaming, and the feverish misery of her cold depressed any spirit with which she might have met this invasion. Letitia, on the'other hand swept, in like an army, her head high, her hazel eyes blazing like fire, full of the energy of wrath." She was a small woman, but she might have been a giantess for the effect she produced. After her there came a personage really large enough to fill the little parlour, but who produced no suGh effect as Letitia, notwithstanding that she swept down a rickety table with the wind of her going as she hobbled and halted in. But Mary recognised, with another thrill of alarm, the Dowager Lady Frogmore, and felt as if her last day had come. Letitia swept in and did not say a word till she had reached the chair which Mary had hurriedly vacated. She had the air of bearing down upon her unfortunate friend, who retreated towards the only window which filled the little room with cold wintry light. " Well," Mrs Parke cried, as she came to a sudden pause, facing Mary with a threatening look. "Welll" But it was ill she meant. <i Well — Letitia," cried poor Mary, faintly. » I have come to know if it was you that wrote me that disgraceful letter. Could it be you ? Tell me, Mary, it's all some terrible mistake, and that I have not lost my friend." Oh, Letitia, you have lost no friend. I—lI — I hope — we shall always be friends." 11 J)id you write that letter 1 ," said Letitia, coming a step nearer. " You— that I trusted in with my whole heart — that I took out of this wretched place where you were starving, and made you as happy as the day is long. Was it you — that wrote to me like that, Mary Hill?"

Mary was capable of no response. She fell back upon the window, and stood leaning against it, nervously twisting and untwisting her shawl. ' «f Letitia," said the Dowager from behind, "don't agitate yourself — and me; tell this person that it can't go any further ; we won't allow it, and that's enough. We've come here to put a stop to it." Lady Fiogmore emphasised what she sail with a stamp of a large foot upon the floor. Her voice was husky and hoarse by nature, and she was out of breath either with fretting or with the unusual rapidity of motion, which had brought her in like a heavy barge tugged ia the wake of a little bustling steamboat. She cast a glance round to see if there was a comfortable chair, and dropped heavily into that which was sacred to the vicar on the "other side of the fire, from which she looked round, contemplating the shabby parlour and the figure of Mary in her shawl against the window. " We've come— to put a stop to it," she repeated in her deep voice. Now Mary, though held by many bonds to Leatia, had at the bottom of her mild nature

I a spark of spirit— and it) flashed throngh her mind involuntarily that it was she who would soon be Lady Frogmore, and tha Rhis large, disagreeable woman was only the Dowager. She put a stop to it ! So impudent a threat gave Mary courage. " I don't know," she said, " who has any business to interfere ; and I don't think there is anyone who has any right. I don't say that to you, Letitia. You are not like anyone else. I very much wish— oh, if you would only let me ! to explain everything to you." "She has every right," said Mrs Parke; " and so has my husband. I suppose you don't know that this is Lady Frogmore." " I know— that it is the Dowager," said Mary. She was aware, quite aware of what was in her heart, the meaning underneath, which Letitia understood with an access of fury. In Mary's mild voice there was a distinct consciousness that this title was hers— hers I the poor dependent, the less than governess I Mrs Parke made a step forward as if she would have fallen upon her antagonist. " You think that's what you'll be ! Oh you Judas, taking advantage of all I've done for you. Oh, you wicked, treacherous, designing woman 1 You wouldn't have had enough to eat if I hadn't taken you in. Look at this wretched hole of a place and think what rooms you've had to live in the last six years —and pretending to care for the children, and bringing them to ruin ! I've heard of such treachery, but I never, never thought I'd ever live to see it, and see it in you. I trusted you like a sister ; ycu know I did. It was all I could do to keep the children from calling you Aunt Mary, as if you belonged to them ; and you nobody, nobody at all ! I got into trouble with my husband about you, for he couldn't bear to see you always there. Oh, Mary, Mary Hill! where would you have been all these years but for me— and to tarn npon me like this— and ruin me 1 I that was always so good to you!" This address melted Mary into tears and helplessness. " Letitia," she said, with asob, 11 1 never, never denied you had been kind ; and I love the children, as if— as iE— they were my own. It will be no worse for the children. Oh, if you would only believe what I say ! I asked him before I would give him any answer, and he said, no, no, it would make no 'difference to the children. I would rather die than hurt them ; but he said, no, no, that it would hurt them if I refused, Letitia ! " •' Oh 1 " said Mrs Parke. "So you're our benefactor, it appears. Grandmamma ; this lady is going to patronise us you'll be glad to hear. She has taken care of the children before she would accept his beautiful love. Oh I " cried Letitia, in her desperation, clenching the hand that was out of her muff as if she would have knocked down her former friend. She drew a long breath of fury, and then she said, " You think nobody can interfere ! You think a noble family can ' can be played upon by any wicked, treacherous thing that likes to try, and that no one can do anything to stop it ! but you are mistaken, there, you're mistaken there J " Foam flew from Letitia's lips. In her excitement she began to cry— hot tears of rage gathering in her eyes, and a spasm in her throat breaking the words. She sat down in the chair which Mary had so hurriedly vacated, overcome by passion, but carrying on her angry protest with mingled sobs and threats only half articulate. Poor Mary cou^d not stand against the storm. A cold shiver of alarm lest this might turn out to be true, mingled with the shiver of her cold, which answered to the draughts from the window. Hunted out of her warm corner by the fire, exposed to the chill, her heart sinking, her cough coming on, there is ao telljpg to what depth of dejection poor Mary might have fallen. She was saved, for the moment at Jeast, by the rush at the door of her mother and sister, who, after a pause of wonder and many consultations, had at last decided that }t was their duty to be present to support Mary— however grand and exalted her visitors might be. They came in one after the other a little awed but eager, not knowing what to expect. But they both in the same moment recognised Letitia, and rushed towards her with open arms and a cry of " Oh, Tisoh J " in the full intention of embracing and rejoicing over such an old friend. "Why didn't you send for me, Mary ? " cried Mrs Hill. " I thought it was some grand stranger, and it's Tisch, our dear old Tisch. What a pleasure to see you here again, my dear ! " Mrs Parke put on a visage of stone. She could not avoid the touch of the mistress of the house, who seised upon her hand with friendly eagerness ; but she drew back from the kiss which was about to follow, and ignored Agnes altogether with a stony gaze. » I'm sorry I can't meet you in the old way," she said. " I was a child then, and everything's changed now. We have come here upon business, and unpleasant business too. I'm glad to see you, however, for you will have sense enough to know what I mean." " Sense enough to know what she means ! " cried the vicar's wife. "I am sure I don't know what that means to begin with, Tisoh Ravelstone ! You were never so wonderfully clever that it wanted sense to understand you — go far as I know." " I am the Honourable Mrs Parke and this is Lady Frogmore," said Letitia with angry dignity. " Now perhaps you understand." " Not in the least, unless it's congratulations you mean, and that sort of thing ; bub you do not look much like congratulators," said Mrs Hill. She drew a chair to the table and sat down and confronted the visitors firmly. "It looks a3 if you did not like the match," she said. " The match— shall never be," said Lady Frogmore, in that voice which proceeded on*, of her boots, waving her arm, which was made maje3tio by the lace and jet of her cloak. 11 It shall never be ! " cried Letitia. " Never ! My husband has already taken steps " "My son— has taken steps— the family will not allow it. They will never allow it." "Never!" said Letitia, raising her voice until it was almost a scream. " Nevei ! if we should carry it into every court in the land."

(To be continued )

—The bear is the hugliest animal in creation.