MAM'SELLE BRUNETTE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3488, 18 January 1921, Page 58

MAM'SELLE BRUNETTE.

By Jean Mibot.emass. Mam’selie Brunette, as she was called in the village, was the daintiest little person who had been seen in Irk wood for many a day. No one knew her real name, or where she had come from, though she had been a long time at Aunt Janey’s cottage—lor more than two years. She was Mademoiselle Brunette, a teacher of music in London, which was only some fifteen miles oh. More than this no one knew, probably not even Aunt Janey herself, who had accepted her aa( a lodger when she first came, and was content. She was not her aunt, but she had been "Aunt Janey" to the whole village as long as anyone could remember. Aunt Janey loved her little Bru, as she called her, and said she was as good as she was pretty ; and all the villagers agreed with her. Lovers! Such an individual as a lover had never be n dreamt of in connection with Mam’selie Brunette, till Colonel Dudley’s son arrived from India. Colonel Dudley lived in the big house on the hill, overlooking Irkwood, so Gilbert Dudley often wandered down into the vidage and gossiped with the old folk he had known as a boy, Aunt Janey being one of his dearest “remembrances.” He had not been long at the Cedars before he met Brunette, who, although she was in London giving lessons for the greater part of the day, yet returned to Irkwood at a fairly early hour, and Gilbert Dudley, who was not, as a rule, impressionable, fell head over ears in lov with her at first sight, and before the week was -out loved as he had never loved woman before. And she, did she return his love and accept his somewhat fierce, soldier-like advances? Scarcely. She unquestionably repelled the latter, and even if, in the secret recesses of her heart, there lingered some weakness for the good-looking young officer, she did not let him see it; only Aunt Janey remarked that a sad look would, at times, come into the girl’s brown eyes that she had never noticed there before. It was a sunlit evening in June. Brunette, whose lessons had been over earlier than usual, was standing by the little gate in front of Aunt Janey’s cottage, drinking in the soft, balmy summer air. There was a far-off look in her eyes, as though she were gazing on another scene than the fair picture that ljiy before her. She did not see (Albert Dudley coming along the lane', and started when she heard his voice close to her. He had been watching her for some time, and as he watched the love that lay so deep in his heart overmastered every warning of cool judgment aid surged forth in i strong appeal. “Be my wife, dearest; give up this life of toil and trouble and let me give you comfort and love. All that man can do for a woman I will do for you, my sweet, my beautiful Brunette.” For a moment or two, as though too overcome for speech, she shook her head sadly. Them words came out stammeringly: “I can never marry you, Captain Dudley ; there are reasons why ” “Don’t say yon love another. Tell me the reasons that divide us, and let us together do our best to overcome them. ’ ‘‘lmpossible—quite impossible.” “Then there is another?” She paused before she answered, then, almost in a whisper, she murmured, “Perhaps.” For a second ox two there was silence. The situation was too tense for words. Then Gilbert Dudley lifted his hat and walked slowly away. He had received such a sting that his whole being was wounded, yet his passion for Brunette was .cot killed. With every step he took, as he walked back up the hill tc the Cedars, he became more and more determined to win her, if the winning were possible. The mixing of jealousy with his love seemed to invigorate rather than to weaken it. ‘Who was the living ‘perhaps’—some popinjay she had met among her pupils; he must find out. He would not be thwarted for a ‘perhaps.’ He would crossquestion Aunt Janev as to the names and whereabouts of these pupils, and find out for himself who the fellow was who was hanging around and might ‘perhaps’ prove an advantageous match.” So deciding, he slammed the garden gate of the Cedars and went into the Jiouse by the back door. There was evidently some commotion in the usually quiet house. “What is going on?” “So glad you have come, sir. The colonel is took bad.’ In a moment Gilbert was bv his father s side. He was an only child, and his mother had died about a year before. To look after his father he had thrown up a good appointment in India, and o have Brunette to help him and brighten their quiet lives had, of late, been his dream Alas’ the unexpected had arisen. Calomel Dudley had had a stroke. “It was not a very severe one, but premonitory,” the doctor said, when he arrived about ten minutes later. Severe or not, it kept Gilbert in close attendance for two or three days, and even his love for Brunette took second place. “What had occurred to cause this sudden seizure ?” the doctor asked. Gilbert did not know, but the old factotum of the familv, when questioned, told him that the colonel had had a letter by the last post which seemed to upset him.

A letter! He had not heard a word about it, and his father’s speech was not affected. Where was it? “Perhaps the colonel put it in the fire. He seemed a bit upset over it. ’ Perhaps! Here was another “perhaps to worry Gilbert. Anyway, he did not find the fetter; and, as his father was much better, almost himself again, he did cot wish to run any risk by asking questions ; but, leaving him in charge of the good old servant, Who had been his own nurse when he was a child, he went off to the village to see if he could catch a glimpse of Brunette. _The lingering long ing was dying hard, if ever it would die at all. This time it was Aunt Janey who was standing by the little gate, not the sweet maiden of his dreams. “She’s gone, captain, and I’m that miserable,” she called out, as soon as she saw him. “Who’s gone?’’ “Why, Brunette, of course. Didn’t you know?” “Gone, good gracious! Where has she gone ?” “Into London proper. This village of ours is too far from her pupils." “Her address?” “Don’t know it. Guess ehe thought I might hand it around,” and she looked at him with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “I wonder what her name really is,” he murmured, receiving, however, no reply as a man, unknown to Gilbert Dudley, came up and asked Aunt Janey if she would let Mam’selle Brunette’s rooms to a friend of his. The subject being exceeding repellent, Captain Dudley strolled away, and did not return to the Cedars till he had calmed his feelings by a long walk in the woods. “Don’t you think, father, you would enjoy a chat with Cousin Lucy Millward ?” he asked, when he was once more in his father’s room. . “Very much,” was the eager reply. “Lucy and I can talk over events in the sixties, about which you are quite ignorant my boy.” With this encouragement Gilbert went up to town in the morning, saying he was more likely to induce Mrs Millward to come if he invited her in person. In reality, he wanted to see if, through some music shop, he could not trace Brunette. What was the use if she had another lover. No matter, he must know the truth. Mrs Millward was an elderly woman, with a large heart and an active mind. She lived in a big, old-fashioned house in Earl’s Court. It was by no means a quiet abode, as children’s voices and laughter were constantly to be heard. The number of young people Lucy Millward had taken into her home, educated, and placed out in the world, was almost incredible. She received Gilbert Dudley with open arms. “Of course I will go to your father—so upset to hear that he has been ill. Miss Lee will look after the home; it is quite easy. Will you stay to lunch ? No—perhaps I had better be off and come to your father. But come again, Cousin Gilbert; you are always welcome. By the way, I have got such a charming little music mistress for the children—a pretty, bright, clever girl, who reminds me very much of—whom do you think?—of your mother.” Gilbert said nothing, but he grew crimson in the face, and a quiver came over his whole frame. Of course—-yes —he saw it—the likeness to someone had haunted him. Brunette ! There was no doubt in the matter. As he did not answer, Mrs Millward went on. “You will come and see her —you must—the likeness is so absurd. Perhaps you have seen her but not noticed it. She has been living in your village, but she said she did not know Colonel Dudley. “Mam’selle Brunette ! Yes, she has been long at Aunt Janey’s. Where is she staying now?” Gilbert managed to ask with tolerable composure. “Not far from me, in the Earl’s Court Road. I forget the number. Most of her pupils live in Earl’s Court, so it is more convenient than Irkwood.” “Just eo, but I must be off. Til see your paragon some other day.” “And I, too, must be off to the Cedars. Ta, ta, Gilbert.” The Earl’s Court Road is long and populous ; but if he walked liis shoes into boles Gilbert meant to find Brunette. The situation was not, however, likely to become very desperate. Good eyes and perseverance soon attain a desired object. That very afternoon he saw Brunette trotting along on the opposite side of the road, a case of music in her hand. She did not see him, at which he rejoiced, as he could watch her without any restraint. Yet, honourable and straightforward as Gilbert Dudley was. he did not feel that he was altogether playing a fair game in trying, against her wish, to discover this little girl’s secrets. Love and jealousy, however, prevailed, and the quest went oil, not that he expected to get much more information that day. Nevertheless, he waited—and was rewarded. A few minutes later Brunette came out, accompanied by a shabbily-dressed man, who might be of gentle birth, but had fallen on evil times. “He was scarcely young enough to be the lover of bright, pretty Brunette, but girls so often prefer men so much older than themselves, and Gilbert Dudley groaned in spirit as he thought this fellow was, perhaps, her husband. They went together into several shops where eatables were sold—bought chops and bread and other everyday necessaries, some of which he carried, while Brunette was burdened with the smaller packages, both laughing and talking the while, as thought they thought the whole matter a good joke. Once they passed so near Gilbert Dudley that he had to start back under an archway to avoid being seen, but he need not have troubled, they were far too much engrossed with each other to heed him. Thoroughly perturbed and broken down, ho waited till he saw them go back into the house opposite, the man having taken

a latchkey from his pocket in order to open the door. Then, with none of the usual elasticity in his gait, the disappointed lover started slowly on his return to the Cedars. His father was better, he seemed less restless and more contented since he had liad a talk with his Cousin Lucy. “And now you have come back I shall be off to my babies,” ehe said. “I have discussed old times with your father till there is nothing left to sajy But I’ll come again, in a day or two, and see if we can find anything.” “Do—do, Lucy,” said the colonel, eagerly, “and bring me some news.” “All right,” and she held up a warning finger. “You will get ill again if you worry about anything,” and so they parted. Gilbert, of course, saw her off by the train. “Come up to-morrow,” she said, as they walked through a little jyood to the station. “I want you to see my little Brunette.” “Why should you want me to see this Brunette, Cousin Lucy? What do you know about her?” “Nothing, my boy, nothing, except that she is a clever little musician and takes my fancy.” “Well, perhaps I know more than you do—she is a married woman.” “Bali! I don't believe it. How do you know?” “I saw her to-day with her husband.” “!So —and you are in love with her and are jealous. Oh, Gil—Gil—what is to be done?” “Try to forget, as other fellows have done before me,” he said, giving himself away, without intending to do so. “Yes, yes, of course; but the entangle ments of life are tiresome. Just now things are very tangled, but see if woman's wit can’t straighten them. Suppose you made Brunette’s acquaintance in the village?” 9 He nodded his head. ‘ And tell me where have you seen her since, and how do you know she is married?” “I saw her to-day, in the Earl’s Court road, walking with him.” “Circumstantial evidence—no marriage lines. Is that all you know?” “Oh, Cousin Lucy, don’t cross-question me. It is harassing. She told me there was someone between her and me.” “And you have been running after her—well—well—come to-morrow. I want you Putting Brunette out of the question, there is something you can. do for me.” To interest herself actively in a love affair was scarcely in the usual routine of Mrs Millward’s life. More especially when Gilbert Dudley told her he felt sure the young lady was married, was it strange that she should take any trouble. Nevertheless, on the following morning, instead of looking after her “babies,” she went for a stroll in the Earl’s Court road. met Brunette, what matter. There were plenty of shops to account for her being thefre. But she did not meet Brunette face to face, though she saw her pass by on the other side of the road, evidently on her way to her own house to give lessons. Brunette out of the way, Mrs Millward knocked at the door of the house out of wheih she had seen her come. Hot knock was answered by a man. “John Hilton, I thought so,” she said. “A woman’s intuition is seldom at fault.” He did not speak, only stood locking at her, as though desirous she should inform him why she was there. “Do you think you are playing an honest, straightforward game?” she asked him. “I do not know what you mean, Mrs Millward,” was now the testy reply. It was evident he knew her well. “Living on Brunette, I suppose?” “It can’t matter to you what I am doing, but I don’t mind telling you I am not living on Brunette. I have” come bank from Australia with a fair amount of coin in my pocket, and I have no call to be beholden for my maintenance to Colonel Dudley or any other pompous swell.” “John Hilton, you are a fool, knocking senselessly against the pricks. Come inside and let us talk the matter over amiably. I want to be your friend, not your foe.” He threw open the parlour door and motioned her to a seat. For Brunette’s sake, perhaps, it was wiser to be civil. Mrs Millward, however, remained standing, and said very decidedly: “Now, Mr Hilton, let us play with the cards on the table, no aces and trumps hidden away— r that is, if von wish me to be your friend. What does this mean? Why have you taken Brunette away from Irkwood to come and live here? A'better man than you is in love with her—Gilbert Dudley, the son of ” “Gilbert Dudley, my sister’s son. in love with Brunette. Mrs Millward, this -s indeed good news. My child, my little Brunette, will have a comfortable, happyhome, and I may wander forth again, alien and outcast that I am.” “Brunette, your child—are you speaking the truth? I never knew you had a child “It is true —true as gospel. And, Mrs Millward, believe me, I am not quite the blackguard vou think. I married a pretty American girl—alas! she died—and I sen! her babv daughter home to ‘Aunt Janey, with strict orders that none of my familv was to he told who she was. I have paid every farthing for her education, which has been under the direction of Aunt Janey.” Airs Millward was so overcome with astonishment that she was forced to sit on the chair he had offered her. “Aunt Jeaiev! Well, she is the first woman I have met who knows how to hold her tongue, and I reverence her for it. But go on—you w-ent abroad, under a cloud. Have you come back avith sun shine?” “Tire sun can never shine in the same

nermspnere as Colonel Dudley,” said teuton, Latterly. "i wrote him a letter ol repentance and promises when i came Irom Australia, ne has not deigned to answer it." "An uncontrollable temper was ever Dudley’s worst possession. Furious against you for your Denaviour in the past —and you did behave vilely, even t-o felony—ue burnt your letter, but it nearly cost him his life.” “How so?” “His temper expended, remorse seized him, that he had been unjust and cruel. Yet he could not atone, as he had foigotten your address; the result was no had a stroke. Hilton laid his head on the mantelshelf and groaned. “How viie 1 have been! What evil I have done!” “Come, cheer up, man; if that pretty girly is your daugnter you are not to be pitied. An epoch of love and charity is setting in. But I must go back to my babies. Come with me, and enjdy the sight of little Brunette teaching them to sing.” The house was reached in a very few minutes; the babies were romping ail over it in happy glee. In the embrasure of a bay window Brunette and Gilbert Dudley were standing hand in hand, for man is persistent and woman is weak. They started apart when John Hilton apjoeared in the opening of the curtains; but he joined the parted hands as he said, in an emotional voice: “My child, and my sister’s son.” The situation was tense, might have be come embarrassing, but trouble was saved by Mrs Millward’s chaffing intervention. A month later Brunette married her Gilbert in the old parish church at Irkwood. With all her heart she loved him, though the circumstance of her father’s return, and her own unknown position, made her think that a marriage with the lieir of the somewhat pompous Colonel Dudley was impossible. Colonel Dudley, however, still regretful, and believing that his past treatment had to some extent driven his brother-in-law into bad ways, accepted Brunette most readily as his niece and the future wife of his son, offering the Cedars for the wedding festivities. But Brunette w-as true to her allegiance. Aunt Janey had been as a mother to her all her life. From Aunt Janey s humble cottage would she make her fresn start in life. John Hilton gave away his child, and felt that now his work in England was at an end he would return to his Australian farm, but he said no word of his intentions. The two brothers-in-law shook hands cordially when they parted at the churcn doqi', But it was the handshake of farewell.