HILDA.

Otago Witness, Issue 2051, 15 June 1893, Page 40

HILDA.

(Specially Written for the Witness.) By Fedora. Chapter ll.— His Story. Hugh's expectations as he neared hia cousin's house in Christchurch were such that he was later on pleased to find himßelf agreeably disappointed. The cousin, whom he had not seen since he was a small boy, proved to be a much better fellow than he had expected to find. He had heard often enough of how Charles Kenthurst had started life with every promi3e of becoming somebody great, how he had begun life as a doctor, had suddenly given up that profession and accepted a responsible post in Wellington in an insurance office, had married there, had been forced to give up his position and leave Wellington on account of his wife's health, and at last had been obliged, afttr many wanderings, to settle in Christchurcb, and take anything he could get ; and was now, at his age, with his brilliant talents, struggling forward with a wife and three children to handicap him. This was what Hugh Peyton had learnt from these relations who corresponded with him. lie found a genial, handsome, brilliant | man with an iavalid wife and three small children, v»ho, in spite of troubles and misfortunes, seemed to keep up the spirits of the rest of his household his overflow of geniality. True, he had now something to be in good spirits about".. Perhaps had Hugh f .uod him before when Isabel had just learnt she could never be strong again, and that to live in any kind of comfort or happiness fhe must leave off entirely doing any kind of work, and when he had known that on his small income it was almost impossible to carry out this command, perhaps then Charles Kenthurst might have seemed a different maD. Isatel Ksnthurst, from what Hugh saw on tbe first night he arrived, was a young woman who thought a great deal about her children and her ailments. Her husband was an unimportant person in the household in her estimation. Gladys, the youngest child, and the eldest boy, Charlie, were not in bed when Hugh arrived from the express, and it was some time before they could be coaxed and persuaded to leave their new "uncle." At las»t the mother ba^ained with them that she would go too, and lie beside them until they fell asleep. After some teirs they were persuaded to go to bed under those circumstances, and the mother excused herself to Hugh and retired for the nig* t. When the door closed on Isabel and the children, Kenthurst turned to Hugh, an air of relief plainly visible on his countenance, though he hid it at once, saying : " Poor Isabel I won't she be glad when all is settled and we enter on the new state of affairs. She's had a hard life with me, poor girl ; but she'll be all right now, I tell her. We'll go Home and get the best of advice for her. She's very young yet," he added, a little wistfully. " But come now, Hugh, old fellow," ho continued, brightening up ; "I want to hear all about your plans too. You have just heard ours. I want to know all about you. I fancy you remember Hurst Court and the tricks we played together when we were little chapp, and then we were parted because of that dragon Poverty, that has always followed our footsteps— mine at least. So you're a writer now, and getting quite famous, though you live here in New Zealand — and in the country at that 1 Ah, by Jovel it reminds me of the aspirations I used to have once ; and* strange to say, the place where I made the most resolves— and broke them— was old Waikiri, where you live now." •• Waikiri 1 Did you live there 1 " «• y es — spent a whole summer there once. Took a spell after brain fever. Pity I ever had any brains, I think— that's to say iC I ever did. I was told, though, a fellow must have brains to get brain fever. I spent a time there that I'll remember to the last day of my life. . You look tired, my boy. It's that beastly train, I suppose. Take a weed, | and we'll have a chat. The first tLing I mii vested in for myself when the news -came was a box of good cigars. If you feel sick, though, perhaps" "Thanks, I'm all right," replied Hugh testily, " and I don't umoke." He had given up smoking two years ago, on finding that Hilda disliked the smell of tobacco. "Well, what was I saying? Oh, yes— about Waikiri. Upon my word, the name of the place makes me feel a boy again. All the romance I ever had in my composition came out when I lived there, I think. By the way, you write and would perhaps like to hear a stojy of what happened in Waik'ii. It might cotoe iD useful some day. Don't write novel?, though, do you 1 Well, never mind. Did you ever hear of a Miss Hilda— no, I won't mention names; though the girl I speak of must have been married long ago. She wa3 an angel if ever there was oi c." Hugh turced towards 'Us cousin. His brain was in a kind of whirl. Should he say he knew Hilda ? No ; he knew that would be the last thing she would desire Litn to do. It likewise seemed useless to attempt to stop his cousin's reminiscenses. And poor Hagh was deeply enough in love to be hungry even to hear his lady spoken about. Then might ho not find out something it might comfort Hilda to know some day 1 "Is your story a long one 1 " he asked. " Long enough to take up a whole summer with delight, but short enough in the telling. I was studying in Dunedin at the time, and attending the university there. Well, I had gone in for study and gaiety at the same time, and the two didn't agree. So, ; after examinations and fever, I had to recruit ; and a lady, at whose house I was a frequent visitor, recommended me to go to her brother's fit Waikiri. (By the way, that woman has never recrgnised me since she beard I was poor and married, which seems to be a great offence among some of my former friends.) Well, to continue. 1 went there, and found the old gentleman, who was a retired army captain, most kind and a thorough gentleman to the backbone. But he had a daughter, and of course it is the daughter that my story is about. OE all women that I ever saw, before or since, she was the most beautiful, the sweetest, I loved hep the moment I set

eyes on her. Besides all her other good qualities, too numerous to mention, she was a restful kind of a girl, which was very soothing to me in my excited state. She could be gay, too, and many were the jokes and much was the laughter we bad that summer. She and her father were devoted to each other. I never saw a parent and child so fond of one another before or since. And yet the old gentleman seemed to like to see us together. Ha had a great fancy for me, too. But he had one great idea, and that was to regain for his daughter the money he had at some time lest for her. He did not manage badly either ; especially for a new hand. He had the knack of makiDg all those around him da their duty. Well, the daughter aud I spent the days together, and one day I could keep quiet no longer. I told her I loved her, ! and she— oh, I was in Paradise when Bhe looked at me with those clear blue eyes of hers and told me that she loved me too. She told it me as if we were two souls in heaven, and she was not ashamed to say it without a tremble or a blush. I could not have bslieved that a woman would have looked like that — and then" " And then, what ? " Charles laughed harshly. " Oh, she gave me vp — that was what happened then. I had no money. Ah, no ! Heaven forgive me for putting it that way. I do nob for an inßtant believe that she waa mercenary — I exonerate her from that. But her father was; and she did everything he bade he% even to sending me away from her. I shall never forget the day she told him she loved me. I think iE he had not been her father I i should have struck him. He absolutely refused at first to believe it was possibla that such a thicg had happened, and refused until she fetched me, and wa both stood before him hand in hand. Then his wrath burst upon her. Never again, I hope, may I hear such words addressed, to any woman. He hurled the most awful epithets upon her, hinted at things which were awful to hear, until one might have thought she was the wickedest woman living ; declared our lovemaking had gone on all those months under his eyes, and he had been fool enough net to see it. She made no denial whatever of tbe charges ; but held my hand firmly when I would have led her away. « Father, 1 she said at last, ' I love Charlie dearly, it is true ; but I also love you very, very much, and if you wish it I will never see him again.' S'le was as white as a lily as she said it ; but quite determined. Ha took no notice of this speecb, bat turned on me with his bitter words. They were truer in my case. I was at the time penniless— l did not even know if I should regain the soundness of my constitution. But I thought if she was beside me I would work and win. But he also told her she would ruin my Career. That a young man at the commencement of life had no chance if burdened with a wife. He was right. I was a fool. I promised her I would wait for her for ever. We don't know what we are talking about. " I wrote to her often after I lef c Waikiri, but I only got one letter from her. She implored me not to write again, as my letters angered her father— even made him ill. Sbe wished me all good in my life, but I was not to consider my fate linked with hers. She would not bring misery upon me ; and, once and for all, she could never leave her father, who depended so on her. Well, after that I took a trip Home. I did my best to forget her. She could not have loved me rightly ; and I determined I would never romacce any more. Isabel was left without a protector, and I married her, poor child. As it has turned oub it might have been better if she had never married me. But I will make her life as happy as I can now that I am abW: Hugh turned on him, and his brows were stern. - " You gave her up after she told you she •loved you — a woman like that ! You gave her up with slight reason 1 " Kenthurst laughed, and shrugged his shoulders deprecatinejly. "My dear fellow, don't work yourstlE into a rage with me for that. Why, I had no idea that you could get so angry. You must be a splendid chanrbion of the fair sex 1 But, as it happens, I'll guarantee this particular fair one would have no need of a champion. Yes, that young lady is ere this well provided for, no doubt. I tell you this story because you are a writer, and I think it may be useful to you — and you glare at me as if I had done you a mortal injury ! Besides, remember this happened long ago ; and now lam a married man with a family. Bat one seldom marries one's first love ; and my first experience was so romantic, or poetic, or whatever you may choose to call it, that the memory of it clings to me still." Charlie smiled, and looked musingly at the lamplight. Hugh felt as if he had received a sudden cold douche. His couaia was so satisfied with himself, so unconscious of having made the sUgbtest mistake, that it seemed scaroely possible to biiog home to him the fact that he had been a fool and a jil*", and was now a complacent ass I For with the like uncomplimentary expressions did Hugh dub him in his miad. Hugh Peyton wag never given to many words ; and until his mind was quite made up he was slow of action. He had not made up his mind yet whether he would inform his cousin that he knew Miss Blanchford or whether he would keep silent on that point. At last he determined to allow circumstances to decide. But the misunderstanding about that letter ! Surely Charlie Kenthurst was not such a fool as to read a latter all wrong — unless he had done so on purpose. " You said she wrota to you," said Hugh, in a milder tone. " Did that letter express a final decision 1 Surely she only intended you to wait." Kenthurst shook his bead. " I might have thought that if I had not remembered the way she treated me before I left. From the day of that scene with her father she treated me exactly as if we had never been anything to one another. Even when we were saying good-bye it was the same. I might have been the most distant stranger — indeed, she never even looked at me; and as for ablush or a tear -I never saw anyone more composed. As for me, I >vas quite cut up, especially at the firewell, for h<r father was not present, and there was no reason for her to behave as &he did. I then wrote and wrote to her. At last she replied, as I have told you. Then in sudden rage and despair I tore up the letter, and. everything I had

that belonged to her I destroyed ; then I set myself to torget her." Hugh had a sort of elephantine feeling that his cousin bad even less judgment and tact than himself. He knew that Ohatles Keathurst wa3 the sort of man to give his only coat to anybody that be pitied. He was able, with infinite tact and pleasantness, to ward off a quarrel among two excited men, and by a deft; turn of the conversation to make laughing matter of what might have come to blows, He was uuiformly kind to his invalid wife — bore her complainings with the greatest good humour, and loved his three rather spoilt and precocious children tenderly. All this Hugh knew, both from experience and hearsay. But he knew that in this he was superior to Charles Kenthursr. He, with less experience, understood the woman he loved. Understood her enough, at leas'", to know that a fafal mistake had been made, and that if Hilda were to find out the real explanation of the mistake it would be terrible for her. No, he determined, Hilda must never know the character of the man whose memory she had |so fondly kept all these year 3. She must not I know that in a moment of rage he had destroyed the letter which ia calmer moments he might have read and undei&tood better. After he had retired to rest that night be thought the matter over again, and then questions would arise. Why should he allow her to go on cherishing the memory of this man and wasting her life because she had been separated from him 1 Hagh was reaJy to live for her aloce. Sii3 was the only woman he had ever loved. Surely tbe knowledge of the3e facts might mak« her consent to join her lite to bis. Then, with.a sudden gasp, he looked into futurity and saw himself! facing another probability. Isabel Kenthurst was delicate; under any cbcumBtances now she 3ould not be long-lived. It" anything happened to her, Keothurst, who remembered the pleasant and forgot the disagreeable so easily — might he not at last como to make Hilda his wife? When Hugh thought of his cousin eveatually marrying Hilda he went dangerously near hating him. Ytt such things had happened, and might happen again. She had said she was waitiag until he wanted her 1 Hcgh ground hi 3 teeth. Would so glorious a creature throw herself iv his arm?, and help by her adoration to increase his self-satisfaction a thousandfold? Ha was so agitated that night that it may ea&ily b3 supposed that he did not sleep vary well; nor, after having heard his cousin's story, did he care to remain long at his house. He longed vehemently to get back to Hilda, and to do— what 1 Well, only to be nrar her would be something. Isabel was more delicate-looking and frail eveny time he saw her, and at lergth had to keep to her room entirely. Charlie, now able to give her the best that money could afford, v\as very much alarmed at her condition. With the excuse that he did not wish to bo in the way with so much trouble occupying Kentburst's mind, Hugh was able to leave his cousin's sooner than he had at first intended. He departed for Waikiri with many farewells from Charlie. " Good-bye, old fellow, I had hoped to see so much more of you ; but I'm not much of a host with all this trouble about poor Isabel. If she gets better, you must take a run up to Dunedin and meet us there when we are on our way Home. Couldn't you manage to fix up your affairs by the time we' are ready to start, and come with us 1 " (To he continued.) — Candid.— A certain volunteer, who was a great man in his own eyes, was by some influence appointed captain. He could hardly speak of anything but bis new dignity. Meeting a friend one day, he accosted him thus : " Well, Jim, I suppose you know I have been appointed captain 1 " " Yes," said Jim, " I heard so." " Well, what do your folks say about it?" asked the captain. " They don't say nothin'," replied truthful James ; " they just laugh."