GOLDEN FLOWER

Otago Witness, Issue 3889, 25 September 1928, Page 8

GOLDEN FLOWER

A NEW ZEALAND STORY.

By

DULCE CARMAN.

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.)

CHAPTER XXI.—THE MATING OF THE HAWK. Sweet of my infinite dreams Little enough endures— Little howe’er it seems, It is yours—all yours I Fame is a fleeting breath, Hope may be false or fond ; Love shall be love till death, And perhaps beyond I —Author Unknown. “ I am going to leave you dear people alone for a little while.” Flower poked her head round the living room door as she spoke. “ With Jim away, and all these weddings in the. air, I find that my woodpile has run out. Oh, there is a little left yet, mummy! ” in answer to Mrs Gerard’s quick look of inquiry. “ But not the kind I want. You see, lam making cakes and cakes—and then cakes. And biscuits, too. Bride is making jam,” she added as an afterthought. “ That sounds almost as though you must be preparing for another wedding,” laughed Rosemary raising lazy eyes from her book. “ No, not a wedding—just a honeymoon. lam stocking Ailsa’s pantry for her home-coming. Pickles, sauces, jams, jellies, and marmalades, and cakes, scones, and biscuits. Oh, lam not doing them all now! ” in laughing answer to Rosemary’s quick exclamation of wonder. “ Ever since they were engaged I have been making double quantities of everything. I want to do the scones to-day; they will be just cold by the time the train gets in and o.ur travellers return. But scones mean a hot oven. Now down in Jim’s 50 acres I saw a lovely pile of maire ’ ips the other day, and not very far from them a rata log that had some nice-sized blocks left by it from Jim’s last firewood excursion. I don’t mind annexing his wood to do his own baking with, so Denis and I are off on a foraging expedition, leaving Sunshine and Dawn to do anything you may want. We shan’t be very long because we don’t really want a great deal. A little, ina ire goes a long way.” “I like maire,” Rosemary said lazily; 14 but rata I love—it is so smooth, and such a lovely dark red.” • “ The mark of the murderer,” Flower said unexpectedly. Rosemary looked at her with a new interest iii her brown eyes. “ Mark of a murderer! ” she repeated curiously. “How in the world can a tree be a murderer - ? ” “ The rata is.” “ How in the world can it be ? ” * “It is an old Maori legend,” Flower said; “one of the prettiest, I think. A Maori named Whakatau told me it years ago when I was quite a tiny child. I loved it so much and he told me so often that I am sure I could repeat it word for word as I heard it.” “ Please do,” entreated Rosemary. “ Would there be time for the scones if yon did?” “ Oh, I think so,” with a hasty glance at the clock. “ Just imagine that I am a very dignified old Maori, and you will get the right atmosphere for the story.” “ The Maori legends are very interesting,” Mrs Gerard said gently. “ I have forgotten much of this one, and shall be pleased to hear it again.” “ In the long ago,” commenced Flower impressively, “ when Maoriland (Ao-tea-roa, he called it: that is the Maori name for New Zealand, and means the long white cloud, you know), when Ao-tea-roa was still undiscovered and the bush was young, when Tane Mahuta reigned over all the forest, it was then that this thing came to pass. - “In the very heart of the bush there grew a stately rimu tree, rearing its head proudly above all the trees around it. The birds built in its branches, and when they went to drink at the little fern-decked pool where punga ferns and toi-tois gazed at their own reflections, and wonderful mosses and lichens ’ hung from every damp ‘ spot and scrapof rotten wood, they spoke of its height ' and wealth of foliage. And at the foot of the big rimu grew a tiny vine, which clung affectionately to the great tree and twined itself about the massive trunk. “ Year by year the vine grew, season by season its coils tightened round the tree which supported it, till one morning, just when the snowy stars of the wild * ” clematis whitened the bush far and wide and the golden glory of the kowhai covered the flats, the rimu died, all its strength crushed, all its life stolen by the vine it had nourished so long. Then there was grief throughout the bush. The birds? mourned for the tree that had sheltered them, the trees grieved for the loss of their stateliest companion, but the vine grew and thrived until at last it was as big as the tree it had killed. Then it sent a thrill if triumph through its wide-spreading branches, and refused to listen to the jeering remarks of the other trees, and ignored the "fact that the birds would not build in its branches or even hide amongst its leaves from the glare of the mid-day sun.” “ That is tragic,” said Rosemary slowly, as Flower paused. “ Who would ever think"of anything like that in the bush?”

“This sort of thing goes on wherever there is life in any form,” Flower said. “To continue, although the. once tiny

vine was now a great tree, it had no friends amongst its companions. All aad lovqd the stately rimu, and all disliked to see the newcomer usurping che place of the favourite it had killed". Only the sunlight played hide and seek amongst the sombre green of its leaves, spilling itself in wondrous shifting patches of shadow on the mossy ground beneath, and the soft breezes caressed the tree lovingly, whispering words of hope and consolation. And the bush awoke one morning from the drowsy hush of a summer night' to find that the alien’s branches were smothered with snowy blooms. “ The bees, unable to resist the heavy, intoxicating scent of the spotless blossoms, hummed round the tree, tasted the honey, and flew away heavy laden, only to return again and again. And the tree rejoiced, for it was no longer forsaken.

The resistless heat of the noonday sun drew forth a stronger fragrance from the nameless flowers, and there sounded a rush of wings through the still air as the birds—conquered -at last—alighted in swarms amongst the blossoms. News travels swiftly in the bush, and before another sun had risen Tane Mahuta himself had heard of the wonderful thing which had happened to the outlawed tree. And as the great should be merciful, he removed the ban from and issued a decree, saying— The birds shall build in your branches—the bees shall love to feast upon the honey of your blossoms. Your name shall be the Rata, and you shall be a power in the bush. But—you who suck the life-blood from the tree that succours you, who crush and kill, and thrive on the misery of your own creating—you surely have no right to the white flower of purity and innocence. And, by the rimu that you killed, your blossoms shall be scarlet. Thus, by the blood-hue of your flowers all the bush shall know that you are a murderer and live by blood. This little must be so, but in all other things you are free! ’ “ And the rata, nameless and outlawed no longer, reared its stately head aloft and spread its branches further. But the blossoms that it had borne so proudly withered and drooped, and fell in a biown shower round the roots of the parent tree. The disappointed birds and bees left it and flew back to the other trees, but soon returned to the wide branches where the perfume of the wonder flowers still clung faintly. And the birds built nests amongst its leaves, and reared their young ones, teaching them to hop from twig to twig, and after the fatigue of their first flight, to r turn to the snug security of the wide branches. The seasons passed, and once again the wild clematis whitened the bush. Then to the delight of the bees and the colony of feathered songsters who called the rata home,’ the great tree bloomed once more. - And the sweetscented blossoms which clustered in such wild profusion were scarlet! The rata was an outlaw no longer, but it bore the mark of blood, and the rimu was avenged. Thus it came to pass that the words of Tane Mahuta were fulfilled, as, of course, they must have been, for he reigned over all the bush, and his word was law! ”

What a pretty, story,” exclaimed Rosemary, as Flower ceased speakin ,,r , you must tell it to Dawn one day, if you will—she would love it! And Brian! He adores old folk tales of any. nation. There is a wonderful collection of folk tales in the library of the house that goes with the garden I told you of on Ailsa’s wedding day.” Flower nodded cheerfully. Any time at all!” she said readily. “ But I must get my chips now. Denis is. taking a bucket, and I am armed with a sugar sack, so you will see us come home laden presently.” “ Don’t try to carry too much, dear,” warned Mrs Gerard gently. “ You might strain yourself, you know.” “ No; I will be very careful of both of us, mother. Good-bye—don’t quarrel till I come back again.” She nodded brightly and left the room, and presently tljey saw her going down tiie road with Denis, who was talking animatedly as they went. Mrs Gerard devoted herself to the crocheting which was all that she was able to while away the long hours with, and Rosemary returned to her book, but found it impossible to get interested again in the story which was so much less interesting than real life. It was quite with relief that she welcomed Brian’s voice at the window. “You look very cosy in here!” he said cheerfully. “We feel .it,” smiled Mrs Gerard. “ Won’t you come in and join us ? ” Rosemary smiled slightly at the quick glance that Brian’s black eyes cast round the room.

“ I don’t think he had better, really! ” she objected. “Listen, Brian, Flower has run out of firewood, and she has some very important baking to do before the wanderers return. She and Denis have gone to Jim Dene’s 50 acres, if you know where that is. Don’t you think it would be a good idea if you went and helped them? Oh—ancLßr'ian! SendDenis back with a few chips to ‘start'

tiie oven—isn’t that what Bride calls 1 it? ” ' • ’ “ Something like that, I believe. The 50 acres? Oh, that is just this side of Accident Ridge, where Jim was hurt. They could never carry wood from there —I will go over at once.” “I thought you would!” Rosemary murmured mischievously. “ Providence must have sent you over just now.” \ She murmured with a smile, as she returned to her book. “If he can’t manage things for himself after a lead like that, nothing in this world would ever be any use to him.’ Meanwhile Flower and Denis, over i.” the 50 acres, had busily gathered together quite a big heap of chips and small blocks of wood. “ You wouldn’t know our pantry! ” the small youth said enthusiastically * Bet you Ailsa will get a big surprise when she comes home and finds the shelves all full of bottles and jars and tins and things. You are a brick, Flower! ” « “ Thanks, old man. I try to be. Bu*. I will tell you what I have been think ing. Would it take you very long to run home with a bucketful of thes? lovely chunky little bits of maire? Sunshine and Ailsa are both new to housekeeping, and I am quite sure that Jim won’t want to worry over getting wood the day he comes home. Sunshine was saying there were no chips left at home.” “ No, there aren’t any, I know. It wouldn’t take long, Flower. Shall I go now? ” “ I would, sonnie, I think. And while you are away I will gather some more together. I will help you fill the bucket.” Denis set off in great style, his brown legs carrying him rapidly over the grassy slopes. Flower watched him idly until he passed out of sight, and was just about to return to her wood gathering when she saw a familiar figure appear over the brow of the hill. Her heart gave a leap, but she waved her hand casually as he came nearer. “ Whatever in the world brings you over here, Hawk ? ” she asked lightly. “Could you see us from anywhere?” “ No,” answered the young man curtly. “ I called in at the house, and Rosemary told me that you and Denis came over here to get some wood. It isn’t fit work for you, Golden Flower, so I came to take it off your hands.” “ Heavens! I never think of it. I am the man of the family, you know. I have to do all sorts of odd things that don’t usually fall to a girl’s lot, you see, but I never mind.”

“Where is the kiddy? Rosemary wanted him to take a few chips home for Bride straight away. I see you have got a good-sized heap together.” “ Yes. Quite as many as I want. Denis has run home with a bucketful of maire chips for Ailsa, and I promised him that I would wait here until he got back. It isn’t very far across the paddocks— not half so far as by the road. He won’t be very ’ long now. I am expecting him back any minute.” “ I rather wanted to see you,” said the man slowly. “It has occurred to me that probably, if your mother was to be attended to by some really first-class doctor—wonderful things can be done by massage now, you know, if you get a doctor who is capable of telling you what really needs doing—perhaps she might get better. I don’t see why she should be as she is.”

I have often thought so myself,” Flower answered a little sadly. “ But it means travelling and much money, Hawk. And we have none. It is no use pretending that we have.” “ But Rosemary and I would like to have it. done for her—and you,” Brian said a little diffidently. “ You have both been angels of goodness to us, and we have got so much money -between us that we should never know we had-spent any of it. You have no real right to refuse, Golden Flower. Think of what her life is now, and what it might be afterwards.” “I dare not think,” Flower said simply. “But you ought to. You owe it to your mother. Flower ”-—he made a quick step forward and caught- her by both arms. There was a note of infinite tendernes in his voice that thrilled the girl from head to foot. “ Don’t you know—haven’t you ever guessed that there is nothing on earth I want to do more than to give you happiness? I ain going away—l must go away! Circumstances have so tied my hands that I am not free to stay. Let me do this for you, so that you will always have a kindly remembrance of me. God knows I would die for- you willingly, but this is all I can do. Do not refuse me the only thing I may ask of you.” “Rosemary told me all about it,” Flower said gently. “ She thinks you are a hero—and so do I.” “Rosemary told you? I would never have thought—but lam so glad that you know, Golden Flower. Now you will see why I have no life of my own to live. I am bound by an oath to the dead. You would not wish me to be untrue to a trust, • dear, would you ? ” “ Never,” said Flower simply. “ You would not be you if you did.” The man looked round him restlessly. “We cannot talk here—there, are things that I must say,’’ he said positively. “Isn’t there anywhere where we should be safe from prying eyes for a few moments? ” . - Flower laughed a. little.nervously. Except for the sheep, and ■ a stray bird or two, I do not see many eyes about,” she declared. “And there is Denis, you know. I must' stay here' until he comes back. Then I have scones tq make before Jim and Ailsa get home.

and not much time to spare. They are only paltry little things, I know, Hawk but, you see, my life belongs mostly to other people, too.” “I wish to God it belonged to me,” Bri -i said slowly and distinctly; “but as that cannot be we will have at least one hour of our own to remember while life lasts. See, this is how I dispose of your difficulties.” He tore a leaf from his pocket book and scribbled a few words in his bold characteristic handwriting. “You see,” he said handing it to Flower, who read curiously: Dear Bride, —Miss Gerard cannot be back in time to make the scones she wants for afternoon tea. Will you please do them for her?—B. D. “ You are a wonderful cook, Golden Flower,” he said in a low tone; “ but I will defy even you to beat Bride at scones.” “ But what will they think if I stay here with you?” Flower -objected; “and what about Denis ? ” “ To answer your last question first: Denis will take this note to Bride as soon as he arrives, also the chips that Rosemary asked for, and I don’t intend that you shall stay here with me. We will go somewhere where there is less likelihood of being interrupted for the little while that is all life has to give us.” “ Do you always get your own' way ? ” Flower asked a trifle shakily. “ Always, when I really want anything. From babyhood it has been my unshaken belief that if you want a thing badly, enough you will get it some time. This is the first time that Fate has ever denied me.” “ Denis is coming now, I can see him down by the fence.” “ I saw him a moment ago. Here, sonnie,” as the little lad ran panting up to them, “ I want you to go back home—to Miss Gerard’s home, I mean—with some chips and this note for Bride. I want to get it to her is soon as possible. We will be pack presently. Here is a shilling to spend next time you go to the township.” The small boy’s .eyes glistened longingly, hut Jim’s lessons had been well learned. “ Thank you ‘ very much,” he said; “ but I don’t want you to give me anything for taking the chips and the note to Bride. I don’t mind groin? with them.”

“ But I want to give it to youl” Brian insisted with a smile. “ I always liked shillings when I was a little boy. You are fine lad, Denis.” The child grasped both the note and the shilling in his hot little hand, caught up the bucket /which Flower had once more filled with chips, and ran off over the short, dry grass, and the two left on the hillside stood and silently watched him go until at last he vanished over the houlder of the hill. Then Brian spoke, very deliberately. “ And now, Golden Flower, do you know of any spot, quite close at hand—because we cannot spare the time to go far—where we are not certain to be instantly seen by any chance passersby.” “There is Accident Ridge!” Flower said very slowly, because her heart was beating so furiously that it threatened to choke her. “ Down by the gorge the scrub grows thickly. Now that Jim is away, there is quite sure to be nobody there.” “ Accident Ridge! What a fittingly named place! Yes, we will go there.’ They walked in silence, side by side, until they stood amongst the clumps of manuka and toi-toi which fringed the edge of Black Water Gorge. Then the Hawk laughed a little bitterly. " This is what I should like my life, to be,” he said. “ Spent up here with you in the sunshine, with the birds and the growing things all round us. And that is what my . life must be in reality, ’ and he pointed down to the cold, black water, flowing sullenly along in its rocky channel. '“ Don’t!” murmured Flower almost inaudibly. “I can’t bear it if you talk like that. Mine won’t be all sunshine—nobody’s is!” -“I never acted the fool like many men do! ” Brian went, on bitterly. “ Never frittered my love away. Ailsa could tell you—-Rosemary would—that I kept it all for the woman I should meet some day—the mate who was meant for me in the beginning of time. I have always done my best to play the game ■squarely, and this is how fate treats me —deals me a hand without a single trump.”

Flower seated herself deliberately on a fallen log. “Do you want me to understand that I am the woman you refer to ? ” she asked quietly. “You know you are!” thejnan said almost violently. “ Have I been able to hide it? You know that I adore you—and you know, too, that I have no right to tell you so.” 7 “Oh, no; I don’t agree with you there!” objected Flower gently. “You must be true to your trust. You gave your promise to give up your life to Rosemary, and I would not have you fail her, but I don’t see why you should not tell me that you love me, all the same. After all, you know by this time that I should have stopped you when you first began to speak if I had riot loved you, too. This is all life is going to give us, dear, but we came together so strangely that I think We were meant to know that we had found one another, and to have some memory to carry through the long years that we have to spend for "Other people.”

Brian tiirew himself on his knees before her, and clasped his arms round her waist. “ God! What a lover you would be,” he said half-unconsciously. “ Flower— Golden Flower—why has fate dealt so hardly with us?” He buried his face in her dress, and Flower softly stroked the bent black head as she gazed at the sullen water before her. “ I cannot say, beloved! There are so many things we cannot understand—or see the use of. Somehow it must be for the best.” Brian’s arms tightened, and he crushed her slender figure closely. “We will give up trying to understand,” he said recklessly. “ Only this moment is ours—but we will make the most of it. I am going to kiss you, sweetest kisses that you will remember till your dying day, kisses that will be all the memory we shall have to carry us through the long empty years that stretch ahead.” Flower closed her eyes, with a little quivering sigh. Through her memory there flashed a momentary picture of Ailsa lying passive in these same strong arms beneath his fierce hot kisses. How she had envied Ailsa—and yet Ailsa had been nothing to him—it was she herself who meant all the world to him—and his oath bound him to Rosemary! Would he kiss her as he had kissed Ailsa, or how would he prove his love? . Softly on her closed eyes, the first kisses fell, and then on throat and brow and last of all her lips—long, gentle, quivering, seeking kisses that seemed to draw her very heart and soul out to meet them. “ Have you ever been properly kissed before ? ” asked the shaken voice that she hardly recognised as Brian’s. Flower shook her head, and slowly opened her eyes. “ I have never been kissed at all that way before,” she said simply. “Never By any man at all since Jim was about 16.” “ And does it come up to expectation ? ” r “It is different, somehow,” Flower confessed, flushing delicately. “I don’t know that I can make you understand. I have only had books to go by—but I thought it would somehow be more demanding—more imperative—l can’t seem to find the right word. I don’t think there is a wo-.-I that quite fits what I mean.” “I know what you mean,” Brian said slowly. “ But that is passion, sweetest, most writers’ stock-in-trade. Passion is always rough, but love is alwavs gentle. And I swear it now to you, Golden that, by all I hold most sacred, my lips shall never touch another woman’s with either love or passion, however long I live. Every bit of me is y ur-, and though the whole width of the world may lie between us there shall never be a day or a night when I do not kiss you again in memorv with my love.” ’ J

“ It does not seem fair,” said the girl piteously; “it does not seem right. All my life I have tried to do right and be co: "ented, nd I have had so little of the things that make life bright for other girls. And now that you have come, and we know that there is no . happiness in the world for either of us apart, fate decrees that we may not be together. But couldn’t you stay somewhere near, Brian? Somewhere where we could see one another sometimes? It would be a crumb of comfort to live for, and surely not too much to ask of even destiny.” “ It could not be,” the man answered curtly. “It would be beyond my strength. I could not know* that you were within reach and mee you casually as a friend. There are s< me things beyond e' n my endurance, beloved.” “ But do you think,” ventured Flower timidly, “ that your oath binds you quite so close to Rosemary as all that? So long as you keep her»with you do you need to give her all your life?”

“ It isn’t that part of the oath that binds me now, sweetheart. I that was all our wry would lie in the sunshine. It is that both Rosemary and I swore to keep her marriage secret until Maurice came home, and Flower—he can never come. If there had been no Dawn there would be no complications. But Dawn is there—and Rosemary is Mrs Damarel. The only way to keep our oath is to keep silence, and to go on letting the world believe that she is my wife, as they have done for so long. For both Rosemary’s sake and Dawn’s this is imperative.” Flower dropped her hands with a little helpless gesture. “ There is no way out,” she said sadly. “We shall just have to bite on the bullet. God will make it up to us somewhere —some day.” “ I wish I had your faith, beloved. I’m afraid I shall spend many hours in purgatory before I can sincerely say that I expect a reward even in the shadowy hereafter for doing what is, after all, the only straight thing in sight.” “ There are not many men like you,” the girl said brokenly. “ Don’t you think we had better go home now? I heard the train whistle at the crossing a few minutes ago. Jim and Ailsa must have reached the house, and I am not there to meet them." They will think it so odd—and stranger still that I should be out here with you.” “The one thing I fail’to understand,” Brian said, heedless of het words, “is just why Rosemary told you everything. She must guess that I love you, for in a way she broke her oath in telling you ”

.“Ohl I shall iieygi- repeat anything,” Flower reassured him. “It is all quite safe with me. I don’t know why she told me. ■ Perhaps she saw I cared for you—women are quick to notice these things—and - she is such a love.” “ Rosemary is the only girl besides yourself whom I have ever really admired,” Brian stated positively. “ Not even Ailsa ever completely satisfied my fastidious taste. But Rosemary—you hardly know her yet. She is not really herself again even yet. I always think of Rosemary when I read those words of Stevenson’s: Steel true and blade straight, The Great Artificer made my mate I It was all that Maurice would have proved her to be.” - “ How lovely,” said Flower, “ what a character to have given one. It is just what I should have thought of her.” “ Did she tell you everything? ” Brian persisted. “About her wedding—and all ? ” “ I think she told me everything.” “And what did you say of Maurice? ” “I said, ‘What a whirlwind!’” Flower owned shyly. “ Then you will know why I could not live close by here and see you day after day in a casual manner. I engineered Maurice’s marriage for him principally, because I saw, even better than they did (they say that onlookers see most of the game, don’t they?), that it was the only thing the world held that was perfect for either oE them. Maurice a whirlwind! He would have made a far better, less-exacting husband than I could ever do. Maurice’s blood ran slow to mine. Every generation of Damarels has held one savage— I am --this generation’s outlaw. Life by my side would be a stormy affair, Golden Flower. Possibly that is why Destiny has forbidden you to be exposed to the electrical atmosphere.” “ Come home,” said Flower gravely, “ I don’t like you to talk like that, dear boy. You know all I could ask of heaven would be to face life at your side, but as that cannot be let us go home, and take up life again as we are meant to.” “Maurice and I adored each other,” Brian declared. “ He was the older by a year, but I was always the leader. I got him into scrapes innumerable, and he was always loyal. Why—even when the end of things came, and he went away,-he-turned with his foot on the step of the train, and said: ‘ Brian, I swear that I will make this up to you some day. When your love affairs get tangled I will come • over land and sea to straighten them out for you! ’ He would have done it, too. A Damarel’s word is ever his bond.” “ Well! It was not to be,” Flower said patiently. “ Brian —I am going home. I—l cannpt bear any more just now; If I cry they will know that something is wrong, and that you have something to do with it. You are not going away to-day. We shall be able to have another talk—but I am going home now.” “And-you will take your mother to the specialist? See, darling—l ask it as a-favour. It is all I can do for you whom I would give all I possess to. Let me have the one happy memory to carry through the long, lonely years ahead.” “Yes! ■ I will take her. It is very good of both Rosemary and you to wish me to, and as things are now between us I feel that I have no longer any right to refuse.” They walked home together, almost in unbroken silence, and went into the room where a pleasant murmur of voices, and the cheerful clatter of cups and saucers proclaimed that the honeymooners had returned, and were being regaled with Bride’s scones and afternoon tea. Ailsa made a little rush for her cousin as she entered, and Flower bent her face over the fair hair, thereby hid-ing--the tell-tale whiteness of her face. “ Fancy you not being able to get down to the station to meet us, Chrysanthe,” said Mrs Dene vivaciously. “ It didn’t seem a bit like coming home without you there, did it, Jim?” “We were stealing your wood, Jim,” Flower said with a little laugh. “ Some of the maire chips in th e 50 acres. We forgot to bring them home, though.” Rosemary looked sharply from the girl’s bent head to Brian’s quiet face. “ It was my fault that Flower forgot the wood!” Brian said, very clearly and distinctly, and Rosemary leaned forward with" a quick little indrawing of her breath which did not escape his notice. He smiled at her slightly as he went on casually. “ Denis and Flower started out for the wood, and then I came up " and got talking to Flower, and in the end we left the wood behind.” “ It isn’t like Flower to forget any thing,” said Ailsa gaily. “You must have been talking about something very interesting indeed.” “We were!” admitted Brian tranquilly. “ We were talking of a plan that Rosemary and I have set our hearts on—that of taking Mrs Gerard to a really first-class doctor—a specialist. And I had an awful job to get her to say that she would do so—but I succeeded in persuading her in the end,' I am glad to say.” The eager light died out of Rosemary I .* brown eyes, and she settled herself back against her cushions again with a little sigh. “ Oh, Brian, how could you,” Ailsa broke in disappointedly. “I was going to do that myself. As soon as daddy and mother landed and settled down, we were going to fix' it all up—and now ypu have beaten us! It isn’t a bit fair of you!” ■ . ‘‘Never mind, Ailsa,” Rosemary said whimsically. “ We can all fix it up and make a merry party of voyagers going

over. It won’t be long now before your parents reach New Zealand.” “No, not long! Why—Flower, dearie ” for Flower had buried her head on her cousin’s neck and burst into a passion of silent weeping—Flower, who never cried! “ What is the matter, dear ? ” Ailsa pleaded. “ Don’t greet me with tears, lou will bring me all sorts of bad luck if you cry over me—not to mention giving me a cold. Isn’t it something to laugh for—not cry over? Think of auntie well again and able to walk about, like everybody else!” “It is the excitement,” Mrs Gerard said, very gently, herself very white and strained looking. “Flower has not beei at all well lately, I am sure, though she has not complained at all. And the kindness of what you propose is over--whelming. But it is not a thing that can be decided in a moment. One cannot do these things in a hurry. We must talk of it again.” “ Buck up, Flower! ” advised Jim, cheerfully. “It’s a long lane—you know-the old saying? Well, you have come to the turning, that’s all!” • Flower looked up presently with an April face and an apologetic little smile trembling on her lips. “ft was awfullv silly of me'” she confessed, “but "somehow I simply couldn’t help it. Perhaps I am a bit oil-colour, as mother says, or even overtired. Such a lot of things have come on top of one another lately—and this last big thing of all completely finished me off.”

Alls well that ends well!” quoted Rosemary lazily, and only her brown eyes, besides Flower’s own, noticed that Brian was staring unseeinglv out of the window with a very white, stern look.on ins handsome face. (To be Concluded.)