Chapter VII.

Otago Witness, Issue 2116, 13 September 1894, Page 40

Chapter VII.

Time from her form hath ta'en away but little of its grace ; His touch of thought hath dignified the beauty of her face.

—Bayly. Tors same night Jim Davidson reached home. His cottage wu rather a poor one,

partly owing to bis occupation as manager

of the Deep Dell gold mine beisg not very .lucrative, and partly to the difficulty, in this uncivilised spot, of procuring many comforts " ordinarily considered as bare necessities of life. It was 9 o'olock in tbe evening, and ha was sitting in a little front room of the oottage which served as both dining room and parlour. In the open fireplace there was a cheery wood-fire, whioh was welcome enough, for in this part of the country the nights were still chilly ; but at present ifc was doing other duty than merely giving out heat. There was a kettle singing away merrily on the tup of the logs, and something in a sauce-

pan was emitting a savoury fragrance very pleasiDg to the nose of a hungry man ; the ,' table was laid for one, and Jim Davidson was . ' just about to begin bis late meal. He was somewhat dusty and travel-stained, for his journey had been long, and be was only just arrived. Hunger and a carelessness of the [ refinements of life had urged him to the teatable before he had found time for paying attention to any such less necessary matters as soap and water. He was a man of about 40, but looked older. His face was battered and weatherworn, and he had the appearance of one who has undergone hardship, as indeed he had. The room was poorly lighted by two candles, one of which was on the table and the other on the mantelpiece. By means of this last Mrs Jim Davidson was hard at work with needle and thread. She 'was sitting near the fire, with the light from the candle falling on the garment she held in her hand. Her feet were stretched out towards the blaze, and she leant back In her chair. New and then she laid her work down to pour out a fresh cap of tea for her husband, or to attend to some other of his wants. She was a large woman, with a fine, well-proportioned figure and handsome features. She looked singularly out of place in the poor little cottage, and as the wife of the rather commonrlooking man at the table ; and it would have been easy to believe that nhe was the descendant of aristocrats. She was slightly over 30, but were the appearance of a much older woman. Fifteen years ago Mrs Jim Davidson had been a handsome young girl with a strong will, a warm heart, and a passionate temper. Looking back across these years, with all their troubles and vicissitudes, her memory oonjured up for her this picture : A low rambling cottage half smothered in honejßnckle on a height overlooking the sea —a lonely cottage surrounded by wild bu ih, and distant about a mile from the township, which, clustering round tbe banks of the

winding river, far below, was visible from the

west, windows ; in front of this dwellingplace ajarge ill-kept garden, where flowering plants and fruit trees grew together -confusedly, and just beyond the low gate a sud-

Standing at this spot the narrow strip of golden sands was seen stretching away on the left band for miles, until, in the dim distance, the eye lost it in the blue of the waters; to the right towered a group of lugged rocks, abruptly breaking the line of beach, and to one of these was usually moored Margaret's own boat, in which she was wont to make expeditions across the bay or up the river or in any other direction that fancy dictated. In the far distance, to the right, on a projecting cliff that stood out boldly into tbe breakers, a lighthouse was erected ; by day it was only- visible in the clearest weather, but at night its lonely point of light was always to be seen among tbe gathering darkness. Such was Margaret's old home, and to it her thoughts often flew with tenderness and regret.

And Margaret's mother was a handsome, aristocratic lady with regular chiselled features and a cold, clear voice. Margaret stood a little in awe of her, and indeed she was the sort of woman to inspire admiration rather than love. Ie was the biigbt, curly-headed little brother to whem in those long bygone days the bigger share of her affection was given ; it was he that she bad of tenest regretted since her runaway marriage, and he that she had of teneßt longed to see again — the bonnie little brother, who bad probably forgotten her long ago, or who bad perhaps been taught to think of her as one who had brought disgrace upon them all. He must be a handsome young man by tblß time — she was sure be must be handsome ; he had given promise.to that effect, and besides, they were a family possessing a more than ordinary share of beauty.

They must have been poor, Margaret thought. She herself bad never been to school. What little learning she had was tbe result of her mother's teaching, ' and, besides, they had always lived poorly. They had kept much aloof from their neighbours, too. The isolation of tbeir cottage probably accounted for This partly, and partly tbe tastes and temper of the haughty aristocratic mother.

Margaret had bad no playmates. Most of her spare time bad been spent in rambles amongst tbe rocks and in lonely expeditions about the bay in her own boat. Her mode of life had been viewed with much condemnation by the little community in which she lived ; but she was sublimely indifferent to any current opinions about her, and, indeed, probably entirely ignorant of them.

Margaret speeding along the beach with her firm yonng tread, or clambering over the rockß with the sea spray showering round her, or deftly guiding her boat across the waters — Margaret with her upright form, in whose every 'line was expressed vigorous strength, and her bright colour born of the salt sea breezes, waa like some wild creature of the sands rather than r. nineteenth century young lady whose true dwelling-place lay within four walls. For her first 17 years she bad lived a life as free as a sea nymph's ; and then something happened which entirely altered its course. It was at this time that Jim Davidson appeared upon the scene. He was only passing through the township, and did not mean to stay any longer than a few days.

But on the first of these days something happened which induced him to change bis plans. He saw Margaret. He was walking alone along tbe sands, and she was putting her boat up towards a rock to. which she meant 10 moor it. Ho stopped and offered to help. She accepted the offer with the fearless friendliness characteristic of her. Then he began to ask her direction to a certain part of the village where he had business, and the upshot of their encounter was that she proposed to row him across an arm of the bay, and so shorten his journey for him. He assented readily enough, and they started off. He was no oarsman — did not, in fact, know the stem of a boat from the stern, so the work of pulling*fell upon Margaret. The movements necessary for this exercise are very becoming to an elegant woman who is skilful in the management of a boat. All next da; Davidson's thoughts kept continually flying back to this small adventure. In his mental vision was a picture of a vigorous young girl, with her body swaying to and fro in graceful rhythm with the strong sweeps of the arms, and a face from which the breeze bad blown back the hat, and round which it was stirring tbe soft dark hair into everchanging ripples. As a background to tbe picture there were the blue wat«i and the line of mountains beyond. He thought with admiration of the big dark eyes 'that bad looked at him so straightforwardly while she talked, and of the joyous tones of the young voice ; the strong glovelees hands were brown, but well formed, and the arms above, he was sure, were beautiful, if he could have seen thorn. She seemed to row with as little effort as she breathed ; at least the occupa- ! tion never broke tbe thread of their conver- , sation.

(To be continued.)