GOLDEN FLOWER.

Otago Witness, Issue 3886, 4 September 1928, Page 8

GOLDEN FLOWER.

A NEW ZEALAND STORY,

By

DULCE CARMAN.

(Copyright. Por the Otago Witness.)

CHAPTER XVIII.—THE LIFTING OF THE SHADOW. You never would turn your eyes to the ground. From the heaven-sent vision they once had seen. So—ready and watting will you be found. When the angels bring you your might-have-been. —Author Unknown. “Christmas Eve!” said Sunshine ecstatically. “ Oh! I never dreamed that Christmas could be so lovely—did you, Denis ? ” “ No,” answered the small youth in a rather subdued tone. He had shown n new respect and deference to his sister ever since the day—two or three past now—when the doctor had been summoned to dress the burn in the palm of her hand. By virtue of the white surgical dressing which hid most of the brown little hand from view, Sunshine had risen into an exalted position in her small brother’s eyes. “Everything in the world is perfect!” chanted the child, full of her own thoughts. “ You are getting ever so much fatter since you have had dinner over at Flower’s—you know you are, Denis. And it won’t be long before Ailsa is living over here with us, and then we can have dinner at home again. And we shall have Dawn to go and see. and play with. Wasn’t it good of God to make the wind turn round the other way just before the fire reached Arcadia? It didn’t even spoil the whole of Rosemary’s garden, but the Hawk said it burnt the Wonder Tree. Poor little baby tree! But we got all the lovelv presents off it first. Wasn’t God good?” “You bet He. was!” agreed Denis enthusiastically, remembering the mouthorgan, and the gun, and the trumpet W *V*. £ rcen stripes that were all still waiting for him safely in the leaf-brown dining room of the bungalow in the bush.

“ It is an awful pity that the bush is all spoilt!” Sunshine went on regretfully, “ But Jim says that a lot of the trees are only scorched, and the saplings and vines will soon spring up again. Hawk wants it to be a little bit green before Rosemary goes home.” “ Isn t it funny that she has been ill all these days?” Denis demanded. “ Don’t you remember what happened to her, Sunshine?” “No,” confessed the little girl. “ Only that I put my hand on to some burning wood by mistake, and it hurt so much that I fell off the wall. I didn’t know anything else at all until I woke up at Flower’s, with Jim and Ailsa bending over me.” “You missed a lot!” the small youth said gloatingly. “The fires were right up to the path most of the way. It was some hot, I can tell you, and the smoke was awful. Bride and Dawn were as frightened as anything. I don’t know what they would have done if they hadn’t had a man with them.” “ They .were lucky!” agreed Sunshine, with an irresistible little smile. “ But it must have been dreadful for poor Rosemary. I’m so heavy-—and she isn’t big and strong like—like Miss Donnell. She had to carry me such a long, long way.” “It was just like a girl to go and fall off the wall,” Denis said disgustedly, “ I wouldn’t have done that. I’d have grabbed the wall with the other hand, and kept right on coming oyer.” “Well, we can’t all be boys!” objected Sunshine, a little sadly. “ You are awfully lucky to be a boy, Denis. And I hope Rosemary will soon be quite well again. The doctor said she was suffering from strain, and I asked Bride if it was because I had been too heavy to carry. And Bride said no, it hadn’t anything to do with me at all, except that they thought having to carry me all that long way through the fire, did Rosemary more good than anything else they had tried. She hasn’t talked to them at all for days, but they think that when she does she will be quite well again, and not have to dream all the time any longer. Wouldn’t it be lovely if she could remember things, like everybody else ? ” “ Rosemary is all right,” Denis maintained stoutly. “I’ve a lot of time for Rosemary. Whether she remembers or not, she is one ot the best.” “ I wish I could see what she is doing now,” Sunshine sighed. “They haven’t let me see her once.” At that particular minute, Rosemary was lying very® still in Flower’s own bed, gazing through the wide-open window to the sun-flecked reach of the Kiwi flowing silently down between fernelad banks. Ever since she had waked from a long and refreshing sleep—a dreamless sleep that paved the way for complete restoration of the wracked nerves—she had lain so, while Bride sat silently beside her, sewing busily at one of the dainty little frocks that made Dawn so picturesque a small person. The child was perfectly happy with Flower and Ailsa, and with Sunshine and Denis coming over every day to play long, delightful games with her. The Hawk rode over once a day from Arcadia, and now and then Bride carried her in- to peep at and kiss the silent mother so white and still in tlie dainty bedroom that'dverlooked the river. Even now, as. Rosemary lay looking out of the window, the \ child - danced

into view, chasing Flower’s Persian kitten, who was having a merry game with some crisp dry leaves that rustled delightedly when patted with an exploring paw. . lhe child is very happy,” Rosemary said suddenly, and the words cut the silence as with a knife. Bride quite jumped, they were so unexpected. , She has always been a happy little thing, le woman said quietly. ‘ She is just yourself over again us you were when you were a tiny child, honey.” Rosemary smiled a little. In her ways she is like me,” she assented. “ I have noticed it often. And in some things she is wonderfully like Biian. But I think she is like her father most. I wonder that Ailsa never noticed it.” Old Bride caught her breath with a quick sob. “Honev—honey—do you know what you are saying? Has the good God taken all the mists away at last ? ” Again Rosemary smiled, this time very sadly. “ Yes, Bride. He had given me back the power to remember—and to suffer.” A.ou are not the only one, dearie! ” disclaimed the old woman swiftly. Somebody else has suffered, too.” Rosemary turned away from the window, and faced the speaker squarely. “You mean Brian?” she said, “Oh! Brian’s life has been a martyrdom. But that is ended now. He has won his crown, and I think,” her own sunny smile broke out irresistibly, “ that it will be presented to him ‘before very long.” The slow difficult tears of old age couised silently over Bride’s withered cheeks. It has broken my heart! ” she confessed, jerkily, “all these long, long years—and you never knew—and he was goodness itself to you. Never once has he put himself before you, dearie—not even since he met the beautiful girl out there, with the tinge of the golden sun in her hair and skin. The world cannot hold so perfect a mate for him as she would be, and yet he has said nothing—done nothing! ” “ Except be true to a trust! Brian is made like that! ” Rosemary finished slowly, “ there are few men so fine •as Brian. Even he whom I loved so well that the loss of him put my memory to sleep for these long years, was never so fine-—so great a man as Brian. I knew that always. And if mv memory had never wakened, Brian would have gone on to the end, just as good to me, just as patient—and Flower would never have known that he loves her—and two fine lives would have been sacrificed—for me—and for a memory.” “ God works in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform! ’’ quoted Bride, reverently, “ everything is working out for the best, dearie, even though it seemed to be such a hopeless tangle.” “Of course it is! ” Rosemary assented. “ If I had never lost my memory, Brian would not have come here, and so never have met his Golden Flower. And if Ailsa has never been ill, she would not have met that delightful Jim of hers, who has lifted the last shadow from my mind. There is only the great grief left, Bride, and I suppose God has some good reason for that too, though we cannot see what it is.”

“I never hoped to see this day!” Bride confessed brokenly, “when Miss Ailsa came to the valley and you did not know her, I thought it was the end of hope, for I never did see two girls so wrapped up in one another as vou two used to be.”

For a moment there was silence in the room, and then Rosemary raised herself impulsively on one elbow. “ Bride! ” she said coaxingly, “ I want you to promise me just one thing. Don’t tell them that I can remember everything just yet. I want to get used to it first. You say that to-day is Christmas Eve. Let us just get Christmas over and Ailsa’s wedding, and then I will tell them, and we will give Brian up to the happiness he has earned a thousand times over, and we will go away somewhere, you and I, Bride. Right away over the sea, you and I and Boy’s little daughter, and we will give up the rest of our lives to her, and try to make up to her for the loss of the hero daddy whom she never saw.” Bride wiped her eyes slowly. “ We must not <talk any more about it, if I am not to tell them, dearie,” she said. “ They will see that I have been crying, and want-to know the reason. I will do as you ask me, and now I had better go and get you some soup. It is time that you had some now.” “Yes! I must get strong and well for Dawn’s sake. Besides it is Christmas time. Nobody wants sick people about at Christmas time.” Bride bustled away to get the soup, and Flower looked up with a bright smile as the old woman entered the kitchen where she was at work. “ How is she now ? ” she. asked cheerfully. “ Ready for her soup, I hope?” “Yes!” nodded Bride, “waiting for it. Very much better to-day. . I- think she is much brighter. She has been-

talking to me about Dawn, and about how good you are to have her here.”

“ Good! ” echoed Flower, warmly. “ Why, we Jove to have her here, and if, as the doctor thinks, her memory comes back when she gets stronger, and she—they—can be perfectly happy again, why we shall all be delighted.” Bride gave her an admiring glance. Such courage as this girl had she had seldom encountered. Knowing—or believing—that Rosemary was the one obstacle between herself and the man she loved, Chrysanthe could yet rejoice in anything which drew him and her rival closer together. “ I think she will soon be well—better than she has been for sonic years. I shouldn’t be surprised! ” she said with conviction. “We will fake things very slowly. One cannot rush them, and the restoration will be all the more complete.”

“Oh, yes! She must find out things for herself, of course! ” Flower agreed, “ but when she sees Ailsa again and Mr Damarel, probably everything will all come -right.” “ Very likely it will! ” assented Bride, “ I was afraid to hope for anything any more when I saw that she did not know Miss Ailsa, for as girls they were one another’s shadows. But now I have a feeling that before long things will be quite all right again.” “Well—that will be perfect! ” Flower said with sincerity, but when Bride had left the kitchen with the carefully-car-ried little tray, Flower stood for a long time gazing out of the window at the distant stretch of bush, from the edge of which the Hawk had been used to wave his hat. The bush was a blackened waste now—and the girl smiled a little sadly as she honestly faced the fact that her heart was a burnt-out ruin, too. No hat waved from the bush-edge these days, the Hawk came and went openly in the day time between the bungalow in the bush and that by the side of the Kiwi. And in the room that had been Flower’s own from babyhood lay the girl who was all the world to him. She herself, for all that he had called her “ Golden Flower ” in such caressing tones, and looked at her so strangely that her knees had trembled, and the sweet colour had flooded her cheeks, was nothing in the world to him but a valued friend. She remembered the wild pang of jealousy that had swept over her on the day when he had first met Ailsa—the day when, swinging down from the wild black horse he rode, he had crushed Ailsa in his arms, and smothered her face ana throat with fierce kisses.

Flower thought that if she could only have had one moment such as that to live for and remember life would not be such a dreary affair. But that would never be. She would have his friendship, and bis gratitude, but nothing more. Everything else belonged to the girl who was lying in Flower’s own bed—the girl who had given up her life to him—who was mother of his little daughter. “ A penny for your thoughts,” said the voice of her dreams behind her. The girl turend slowly round to face him. “ Why! You quite startled me, Hawk! ” she said lightly. “Yon are so much earlier than usual to-day.” “Well—it is Christmas time,” excusii gly. “ A man may be forgiven anything when- the Christmas feeling is in the air, mayn’t he? It has just occurred to me to wonder how Dawn’s doll is getting along. Have you had time to think about it with all these invalids on y<ur hands?” Flower craned her neck anxiously towards the door. “Where is the young lady?” she demanded cautiously. “Can you see her? She was out in the garden with the kitten not many minutes ago.” “ She is there now. I’ll barricade the door. Why this mystery? ” “ I have got the doll here—and, oh, Hawk! She is the loveliest thing —I shall break my heart when I have to give her up. It will be like letting somebody else adopt one’s own pet baby. If Dawn doesn’t worship her, I shall never think half so much of her taste again as I do now.” The man eyed her curiously. “ I didn’t know that grown girls ever cared for dolls! ” he said, with interest. *' Oh! Lots of them don’t. I know numbers of girls who hated dolls even when they were quite small. But Ailsa loves them, and I always did—and I am sure that Rosemary did.” “ Yes. We used to tease Rosemary’s life out about her dolls. I can remember that. I suppose the ‘ doll-girls ’ are really those who make the best mothers in the end. Rosemary was devoted to her dolls, who were as the sands of the sea for number—and there is no better mother on the planet than she is to-day.” “ I am quite sure there isn’t,” Flower agreed heartily. “ I think she is quite perfect in every way. Now, you watch the door carefully, and I will show you Miss Dolly and her trousseau.” She unlocked the cupboard in the living room, where she kept her embroidery materials, and came back into the kitchen with the long box under her arms. “ See if this is the kind of wig you wanted,” she said, busying herself with the folds of soft tissue paper, and not looking at her companion. “ Miss Taylor got hair as nearly like mine as she could. There seemed to be plenty available.”

The fine black eyes were fixed upon the doll which she held up to view—a doll now dressed in the finest of muslin, hand-embroidered with an exquisitelywrought tracery of forget-me-nots. And, outside the muslin dress was a coat of fleecy wool, a bonnet of the same cover-

ing the head with its clustering wee curls of copperTgold. “Just exactly what I wanted,” he stated positively, with the shadow of a smile on his lips. “ And she matched the shade most beautifully. You will have to do more shopping for me, Golden Flower.”

“Why! That is just what Ailsa says,” Flower laughed a little relievedly. “ I really shall have to start a buying agency, I think. Oh! I can hear little footsteps on the path. Hold the door just one minute, Hawk! There, that’s all right ” —as she hastily refolded the doll in the tissue paper again, and placed the box in the cupboard once more, carefully re-locking the door. “ I am glad we managed it safely. She can come in now. And you had better go in and see Rosemary, hadn’t you? Bride says she is much better to-day.” i^ CS ’ I 8°- I wonder if we a.iall ever be able to repay vou for your goodness to us, Golden Flower? ” Do go and see Rosemary! ” commanded Flower, “I don’t want to hear anything more about the tiny little bit w e h;u e been able to do for you all. I have told you a dozen times that we have simply loved to do it. You talk as if it had been something really worth while.” “Sometime, someday,” the Hawk said expressively. “We will leave it at that just now, Golden Flower.” He smiled as he left the room, and the smile was still lingering on his lips as he stood beside the bed where Rosemary was lying. “ Better to-day, Flower says! ” he suggested lightly. “ About how‘much better, Rosemary? ” “ So much better that I am making plans- for the future! ” said the girl with a new gravity in her tones. “ For the future,” blankly, “ What in the world do you mean ? ” “ I mean that for a Christmas gift I can give you back your freedom, Brian. God has given me back my memory, and I know what a hero you have been all these years.” 'J he man made a quick gesture of dissent. “ I only kept a promise—fulfilled a trust! ” he said. “ I know. But who in the world would have expected it of you, when it meant such a martyrdom ? Fancy a young man fettered with a helpless, afflicted girl, and an old woman and a girl baby. A man who should have been free to roam the world over if he wished. Oh, Brian, you have been a love! ” “ That is all the thanks I need,” answered the man a trifle unsteadily. “If you can tell him one day that I did my best for you I shall be quite satisfied.” “ Well, I can truthfully say that. Probably God has told him so already. And now, as soon as I am a little stronger, Bride and I will go right away with Dawn, and when you are married, Brian, you can sometimes come and see us, and remember that though I hampered so many years of your life, yet I set you free the very first moment I could. Now isn’t it a glorious plan? ” “Glorious indeed! I can see but one flaw in it.” “What flaw?” “Rosemary, my oath still holds.” “ But surely now ? ” “ Even now. I promised—l swore to watch over and care for you until he came back. You will not be able to go away, Rosemary.” The girl made a little gesture of utter hopelessness. “Oh, well ! No Brian! I absolutely refuse to stay. We will live quite close if I must not go away, but you must be free to have your own home now, and we have no longer any part in it. I insist, Brian. If you don’t give in to me in this, I will creep away some dark night, and you will never find me again. You have no right to refuse. I may have lost my memory for long years, but I have not been blind, and for somebody’s sake—somebody else whom there is no need for us to name’ now, you have no right to refuse my Christmas gift to you.” (To be continued.)