GOLDEN FLOWER.

Otago Witness, Issue 3890, 2 October 1928, Page 8

GOLDEN FLOWER.

By

CHAPTER XXII. THE WORD OF A DAMAREL. Across a wilderness of silent years, and through A mist of tender memories^—l come to you! Mrs Gerard was lying on the sofa by the open bay windows, watching the sunlight play at hide and seek in the branches of the great trees overhanging her beloved river. For the moment she and Bride had the house to themselves, and she could hear the old woman crooning Irish songs to herself as she moved to and fro in Flower’s spotless little kitchen.

To-morrow Brian was coming to take Rosemary, Bride, and little Dawn back to the bungalow in the bush. And Flower had washed her hair, and was out in the golden sunlight somewhere drying it. Rosemary and Brian had taken the three children for a dolls’ tea party, with the pink tea set that Santa Claus had placed on the chair by Dawn’s bedside. They had gone to a very pretty little patch of bush which had luckily escaped the fires. In just two days now the boat would be due in Wellington, and Ailsa’s" father and mother would be amongst all their dear ones. . A happy smile curved the invalid’s lips as she dreamed of the meeting with the beloved sister whom she had not seen for almost a lifetime.

Ailsa was making frantic efforts to brighten up the dingy little cottage on the other side of the hill that its poverty might not have too depressing an effect upon eyes straight from the luxury of the dear home in far-away London.

So the time passed and the shadows lengthened, and presently a hasty step sounded on the veranda, and Ailsa burst unceremoniously into the room with an open telegram in her hand. “ Oh, auntie,” she said breathlessly, ■with an excited little gleam in her blue eyes, “ what in the world are we going to do? Mother wires to say that their boat got in yesterday—three days ahead of time—and they are coming on by express—now —to-day! They will be here in an hour’s time. What in the world am I going to do ? ” “What do you mean, Ailsa? I am afraid I do not quite understand, dear. What is the matter? ”

“I had it all arranged so beautifully,” wailed Mrs Dene, “ Jim and Flower arid I were going down to meet them, with the two children. I w-as going to do Denis and Sunshine up in their Christmas clothes, and both mother and dad would have lost their hearts to them on the spot. Flower w-anted us all to come on here for afternoon tea. And now-—where are they all? I could never get the children dressed in time if I knew just where to find them this moment. Jimis away at the back of the place splitting posts —I couldn’t find him if I had time. They will all straggle in one by one—dirty, draggled—it will create an unfavourable impression. Flower—where is Flower, auntie?” “ I don’t know exactly, dear. She washed her hair about half an hour ago and went out into the sun to dry it. Just where she went I cannot say.” “ Oh, auntie! And it means all afternoon to dry Flower’s hair. That is the worst of having such a smothering lot of it as Chrysanthe lias. What in the world shall P"do? ”

“ I would not worry at all if I were you, dear,” advised Mrs Gerard soothingly. “ After all it is your own father and mother who are coming, no strangers who need to be impressed. I should just go home, if I were in your place, and get dressed quietly, and go down to the station to meet them. If you call Bride in we will tell her all about it, and she null get us a dainty little afternoon tea lam quite sure. Bring the new arrivals straight up here wdren they come, and we ,will all have a cosy little chat together until the others come in. It will be much nicer than a formal, set affair, don’t you think, dear? I am quite sure that your mother will prefer it so.”

“ Well, I would have liked to have bad just Jim to go dow-n to the station with me,” Ailsa confessed; “ but I will do the best I can by myself. You are a love, Aunt Helen. I don’t wonder that Flower is. so adorable.”

Bride was called in, according to plan, and the situation being carefully explained to her she entered enthusiastically into the spirit of the thing as Mrs Gerard had foretold. “You just go down and meet them at the station, Miss Ailsa,” she said capably. “ I will have everything ready for you here by the time you get back here with them-. You’ve no need to worry about this end of things.” “Bride—you are a jewel,” Ailsa said impulsively as she sped away to the tiny home that was already so dear to her in spite of all its shabbiness and poverty. The next hour was a thing of flying moments, and Ailsa was still breathless when she stood on the platform of the little station, and the train swept round the curve where Flower had watched for its coming when she had gone down to meet her unknown cousin so short a time •go-

There were not very many passengersfor the small township—only about a dozen—«uly three first class ones at aIL

A NEW ZEALAND STORY.

DULCE CARMAN.

(Copyright. For the Otago Witness.)

Ailsa’s father and mother, and a tall, very thin, young man wearing blue glasses, at whom Ailsa never' cast a glance.

“Oh, mummy!” she said with an ecstatic little laugh. “Is it really you, or am I dreaming— and dad, too—how perfectly lovely! ” “ How well you are looking, Ailsa,” said Mr Hilton, looking admiringly at the delicate rose-flush which came and went so becomingly in his daughter’s cheeks. “She is more like you to-day, Millie, than I ever saw her.” “ Don’t pay me compliments, dad,” laughed Ailsa a little nervously. “ You will be making me conceited in *. minute if you are not careful But you are quite right: I am wonderfully well; better than I have ever been in my life, I think. It is this wonderful country that has done it. The air is just like wine—nearly as intoxicating.” Mrs Hilton laughed. Just the same Ailsa underneath the roses, I see,” she said indulgently. Oh, yes! Just the same girl, of course. Didn’t you want me to be? But how you have taken us by surprise. Everyone is away somewhere or other. I had to come down to meet you alone.” We shall see the others soon, dear ” said Mrs Hilton "tranquilly. “ You seem tc have grown, and altered too in sSm way, dear, and you look very happy.” “I am happy, darling. I did not know there was so much happiness in the w-orld. ,

We have brought another guest for your wedding, Ailsa,” Mr Hilton said. . He doesn’t want you himself now, he says, so you need not feel shy with him. We thought the more the merrier.” Ailsa looked up ar the tall young man moved closer. A moment she stared in utter unbelief, and then she said as though ever, yet she could not trust the evidence of her own eyes: “It couldn’t be really Maurice?”

“ Yes, it is Maurice, Ailsa —back from tne dead! And I have come to wish yon all happiness at your wedding, dear

“Oh, Maurice! How darling of you. then you found out that our engage ment w-as a mistake, too?” “ Loi }£ a £ o! We only played at love, little ehum. I found that out long ago and you know it now.”

“ And when is the wedding to be ? ’ asked Mr Hilton jovially. “ You are e modern daughter, Ailsa, settling all jour own affairs like this, and dragging Jour mother and me half across th? t to see - VOU Jlave y° ur own w-ay.” “Now you know you were both glau ot the chance of such a good excuse for coming!” said Ailsa coaxingly. “You can t make me believe that vou haven’t enjoyed- every moment of it—and I am sure the trip will do mother a w-orld of good. And you know you always trunk that I have good taste—you always say so. And you will both love Jim—he is adorable. But the wedding is ovei. ” e were married two days after Christmas.”

. Oh, Ailsa!” said Mrs Hilton disappointedly.

I know, dearest! I knew vou would be horribly disappointed, but it was the children, j*ou see—Jim’s little sister and brother whom I wrote to you about. He had a dreadful housekeeper who used to make slaves of them, and starve them, and even knock them about. And Jim found it out quite by accident, and sent her packing at a moment’s notice. Then there was nobody left to see after the children, you see, and they are onlv mere babies, so I simply had to marry him. I knew you would quite under stand when I explained it to you.” . I have got the loveliest weddin" outfit in one of my boxes,” Mrs Hilton lamented. “Eugenie surpassed herself this time, in her anxiety to show NevZealand what she could do.” M ell- we shall have to find someone very perfect for Flower. She is an angel, mother. I never knew there were such 9 ln le wor^{ i till I came out here. Then we can give the/wedding outfit to her. She is the loveliest thing, too—she will set it off perfectly. They call her ‘the Golden Girlor ‘Golden Flower round here—and it describes her exactly. lam rather glad that I did not have it, in a way, because you have no idea how dreadfully poor and sensitii e Jim is, or what a shabby wee home I’ve got, and if mother had deckel me out in. all Eugenie’s masterpieces 1 am sure Jim’s feelings would have been awfully hurt.” “And how is Helen?” Mrs Hilton

Very,.well, for her—she is always quite an invalid, you know. She wants me to bring you back to afternoon tea there. You must come too, Maurice Brian is there—and all.” /

Oh! If Brian is.there I must gratefully accept,” Maurice said, “ And then perhaps I-can go home with him afterwards. I want to see him specially. In fact, that is why I came to New Zealand just now.”

“ I can’t believe that you are really alive, you know, Maurice,” Ailsa said, a trifle shyly, “but I am awfully glad all the same. However did you manage it? ”

“ It is too long a story for now,” Maurice answered. “It is by nothing

than a miracle that I aril here at all. One of the doctor prisoners—an awfully fine chap—took me in hand, and a friendly gaoler helped. But it was touch and go. Let’s talk of "something pleasanter. Where do we go from here?”

“To auntie’s. Come, dear ones. Let’s fix up the luggage. I know poor Aunt Helen is counting the moments until w*e arrive, and that they all seem ages long.”

It was the gayest of afternoons in the little bungalow by the Kiwi side laughter rang out—soft laughter, with the tears not far behind. Bride burst into an unexpected passion of tears when confronted with Maurice, and threw her arms round his neck, sobbing as she did so—

“ May the good God be praised. Never again will I doubt His goodness. The day of miracles is not past yet, and everything will be well again at last.” “ Yes—everything will be all right again now,” Maurice Damarel answered quietly. By and by Jim came in—a manly figure in his faded shirt and patched “ blueys ” —leaving his axe outside the window as he came through. “Is my wife here by any chance?” he demanded, then stopped abruptly as he saw the three strangers gazing interestedly at him.

“ It is mother and dad,” cried Ailsa, springing eagerly to her feet. “ They came this afternoon, their boat got in three days before time. And this is Brian’s brother whom we thought was dead—Major Damarel.” Mr Hilton took one long keen look at his new son-in-law’s honest grey eyes and firm, capable chin; he felt the close grip of the sinewy brown hand, and approved of him on the spot, repeating to himself with satisfaction that Ailsa’s taste and judgment were always to be trusted.

Mrs Hilton, with a woman’s lightningquick appraisement of a stranger, noticed his utter devotion to his girl-wife, and loved him straight away. Maurice and Jim gripped hands closely, each of them with the feeling that the other was a man to be proud of knowing.

Mrs Gerard gave a little sigh of contentment and relief when she saw that her sister and brother-in-law had so immediately and completely approved of their stranger son-in-law-. She settled herself to enjoy even more thoroughly every golden moment of the afternoon that w-as now shadow-less.

“ There is somebody coming,” said Maurice Damarel at last, in a strained voice, and Ailsa glanced casually out of the open door. “ Yes—Rosemary and the children—see! There are the children, mother. You can’t help loving them—they are such ducks.”

“ But there are three of them, Ailsa,” said Mrs Hilton, in a puzzled tone. “ I thought you only mentioned two in your letter—a girl and a boy.” “ Only tw-o of them belong to us,” Ailsa laughed. " The bigger girl is ours. —Shirley—Sunshine for everyday, and the boy is ours too—Denis. But the wee little girl is Rosemary’s own small daughter, Dawn! ” “ Rosemary’s! ” echoed Mrs Hilton surprisedly. “Is Rosemary here too? Well, lam surprised. And who did Rosemary marrj- ? ”

“ Well—er—” Ailsa faltered and blushed a little, and a voice that they hardly recognised, so strained and tense was it, said slowly and very evenly: “ Rosemary married me, Mrs Hilton.”

“You—Maurice! And we never knew. Poor Rosemary! What she must have suffered all these years! ” “ Not all the time, mother,” Ailsa broke in quickly and eagerly; “ only just at first, and then again since Christmas. .Rofeemarj- lost her memory when she heard that Maurice w-as killed —at least, I suppose that was the shock that Brian meant, and she onlj' got it back again at Christmas time when she saved Sunshine from being burnt in a big bush fire.” “Good heavens!” said Mrs Hilton helplessly. “What a place to live in! Do things like that happen all the time ? ”

“Oh, no! Onlj- occasionally, mummy. Sometimes we have earthquakes bj- w-aj-of variety-. - Jim nearly cut his foot off the last time we had one of those.”

The children rushed into the room, all three together, talking excitedly about their picnic and all that they had seen and done. They were all decked out with ferns and toi-toi feathers, and they all three looked very lovable mites as they drew together in a shy little group w-hen they caught sight of the strangers.

Maurice gave one quick glance at the tiny maiden who regarded him so shyly from beneath her bobbing black curls. His little daughter—his very own—and he had never known that he possessed one!

But his glance passed on quickly to where Rosemary stood outside in the sunshine. Very white and frail she looked standing there with her hands clasped tensely together in front of her, and her brown eyes fixed piteously on the figure of the man who had risen to his feet.

“ Maurice! Boj- of the World! ”

The w-ords were scarcely more than a whisper, yet they carried clearly to the cars of those in the room so still had everything become. Rosemary threw up one hand as though to shut out the vision of that loved form which she knew quite certainly could not possibly be there in reality. She swayed a little, and Jim sprang to his feet. But Maurice was be-

fore him. Passing heedlessly .by his tiny daughter Maurice stepped out through the open door, and caught the slender figure as it sw-aj-ed. “Rosemary! Rosemary! Rose of mjheart!” he said passionately, “ I have ccme back to you at last, beloved!” Those left within the room stared out at the tw-o in the sunshine, quite speechlessly, until Jim, with a little apologetic laugh, drew the heavy portiere curtain across the open doorway. “Time for the fade-out, isn’t it?” ne said cheerfully, but with a little uncontrollable shake in his voice. “ End of the seventh reel, and all that!” “ I love j-ou for that! ’ Ailsa whispered ae he returned to her side. “But what a shock, Jim! No wonder poor Rosemary felt faint! And to think that 1 never guessed, when it was sort of hitting me in the face all the time. Isn’t it wonderful to think of Maurice being alive after all? I never thought it possible to be happier than I was this morning, but oh, this has put the final touch on everything.” “Thank goodness!” said Mrs Gerard tiredlj-. “ You know, I hardly feel equal to all the excitement we have been having latelj-. There can be nothing left to happen now, surely, and we can all settle down to a quiet, peaceful time together.” There is still the meeting of the brothers to come!” reminded Ailsa. Brian and Maurice have not met yet. ~ n d. Maurice has taken no notice of his girlie, so far, either.”

“ By the way, where is Brian ? ” asked Mrs Gerard curiously. “He went with Rosemary and the children, but I did net see him come back with them.” He staj’ed with Flower,” explained sunshine. ‘We saw Flower drying her hair as we came along, and she said she was coming in presently, so he said he would wait for her, and Rosemary said we would go on and . see that tea was readv.”

“ Thej- won’t have anv if they don’t hurry up!” Ailsa laughed, “though that is an idle threat, I fear, when Brian is one of the delinquents, for I have noticed tliat inevitably if Brian conies in late, Bride immediately- puts in her appearance w-ith a fresh brew of tea and a new plate of the nicest cakes. Horriblv spoilt youth—that same Brian!” “Ailsa!” Rosemary poked her head round the curtain that Jim had let fall across the doorway. “We are going to find Brian. You don’t mind?”

Not in the least, dear. It is quite time that he came in for his tea.” , Ailsa spoke lightly, but her eyes were rivetted to this new Rosemary, who looked like a flower fresh-washed with cool ra:n. She seemed to have bloomed in those few moments into a new rare beauty, and the light in her brown ej-es was wonderful.

“ Take Maurice with you, and bring Flower in too if you can.” Rosemary laughed—a quick excited laugh as she turned away, and Jim chuckled as the two went down the path together talking earnestly as they went. “ How clever of you, Ailsa,” he laughed. “ Take Maurice with you. As though,anything that we could say or do would possiblj- keep him away from her.”

“ I’d love to see Brian when they meet,” Ailsa said. “ What a surprise it will be! ”

“ But how wonderfully everything has turned out for the best/’ said Mrs Hilton looking up\from her occupation of making friends with Shirley and little Dawn. Denis was already seated on Mt Hilton’s knee, examining his gold' watch with minute care.

“Yes, by jove,” he assented cheerfully- ; “ nothing could have been arranged better if we had tried our hardest o make things run smoothly. And to think of Maurice married to Rosemary al this time. Sly j-oung dog! I never dreamed that they cared a button for each other. Dear little girl, I always thought Rosemary was-—true as steel. I never believed' the yarns that got about when she disappeared.” “ Flower will feel like murdering them all the same,” Ailsa laughed. “She looks a perfect picture when she has her hair down, but she absolutely hates anyone seeing her so for all that.” When Flower washed her hair she did so believing that it would have a whole afternoon of uninterrupted sunshine in which to dry itself into the rebellious curls and waves which made the copperv mass so beautiful. It was with this belief that she took up her position on a mossy knoll beside the Kiwi and opened a book, prepared to give herself up to the rare pleasure of a whole afternoon’s reading. The shadows lengthened, and the hair was almost dry when she heard footsteps on the moss beside her, and looked up to see Brian standing there. “We saw you as we passed,” he said, “ and Rosemary sent me over to tell you to come in to afternoon tea. Jove, your hair is beautiful when it is wet, Flower. Rosemary’s is purple in the sun when she washes it, but yours is redgold unalloj-ed.”

“It is an awful nuisance,” Flower answered. “It takes such an age to dry. I had no idea that anybody would see me here.”

“ Well, it was only us. Surely we don’t count. Don’t go for a moment, Flower. I have dreamed so often of seeing that glorious hair down—of winding it round your throat—of burying my face in it. Let’s snatch another moment, sweetheart; it is so nearly the end now.”

“ But don’t you think it makes it harder?” pleaded . Flower. “J think it would have been easier to have parted

first—not knowing. Now, w jien we know how heavenly a kiss can be, and just how perfect it is only to be near each other, it seems as though I could not bear to let you go from me for ever.” . never think ahead now,” answered Brian honestly. “ I mean to treasure each moment that we find possible to spend together, and then, when I have to go from you, I shall feed on my memories, and they will help me through the years.” “ is vei Y hard,” Flower sighed, vyhy is the age of miracles past, Brian ? Surely they are needed as much m world to-day as ever they were.” Heaven alone knows. Don’t waste t-me thinking about it, sweetlieart. Just fancy for a few moments that you are mine and I am yours, and that there is nothing at all in the world to part us, and all our way is sunshine.” He sat down beside her on the mossy knoll and drew her into his arms, hiding his face in the glorious mass of hair that smelled faintly ot lavender. They sat so in silence, and there was no sound save that of the river softly lapping its banks, and the precious moments fell awaj- one after another, and were gathered together in the shining wonderful place which holds all the time that lias passed. “We must go,” Flower said at last regretfully, parting her shining waves of hair and looking at Brian from the frame it made. “We must be dreadfully late as it is, and I am sure thej- will guess something if we stay any longer.” “Just another minute!” pleaded Brian. •“ Only one—there are such mily lions more of them to be lived througliafterwards.” It was just at this time that Rosemary, walking along the river bank towards them, was busily explaining to her companion what a darling Brian had been to her, and just how he had fallen in love with one of the most wonderful girls the world had ever held. “ She is wonderful!” the girl concluded • enthusiastically. “ Oh, Boy, you have no idea how lovely. Her name is Chrysanthe, and she is Ailsa’s cousin. ‘ Chrysanthe ’ means ‘ Golden Flower,’ you know, and they mostly call her Flower. She is just that, Maurice—golden! Hair, eyes, skin —the sunlight seems to have got into all of them. And her heart is all gold, too. And Brian will never marrj- her, or anything, because he feels himself still" bound by that oath he swore to you that awful day when you went away. I have prayed and prayed for a miracle to happen, so that he might be freed from his vow. But I never thought God meant to send such a wonderful answer to prayer as you were, darling.” “And I can keep my vow!” said Maurice in a satisfied tone. “ Don’t you remember I swore that if ever Brian got his love affairs tangled I would go over land and sea to straighten them out for him? Well—in coming to find you I have unconsciously fulfilled my vow.”

“ And you and I must go and see the bungalow in the bush where he took such wonderful care of me all that longtime when my memory was asleep. That is. where Dawn has spent her little life. Did you see her—your own tiny daughter ? ” “ I just saw her, that was all. I had no idea that I owned a little daughter until Ailsa remarked casually that she was Rosemary’s little girl. I don’t think I realise it even j-et—and h.ow could I stop to look at her when you were w-aiting there for me, sweetness? You must remember that I am father, husband, and lover, all in one—but lover first of all, Rosemary!” “ God is so good!” Rosemarj- said shakily. “Oh! I never dreamed that He could be so w-onderful. Sunshine is always chanting how good God is, but J never realised it fully until to-day.” “ These years have been endless!” said Maurice, “ but I was out of mv mind for a time with the pain, and 'then I was too ill to realise anything clearly for long months. As soon as I could get away I left for England, and the girl- ' wife I had left behind me.” “ Ob, what a waste of time!” lamented Rosemary. “If we had only know-n!” “ Ah! I never dreamed that you not there—l knew nothing at ail until went round to Hilton’s, intending t 6 clear the air at the start by telling Ailsa of my marriage. I found that Ailsa w-as in New Zealand, on the point of being married to' a New Zealander. Mr and Mrs Hilton were just preparing to sail for New- Zealand to be present at the wedding, of which they seemed to thoroughly approve. I mentioned that I wanted to find Brian at once, and they told me that Ailsa, in one of her letters, had written of meeting him in New Zealand. I knew Brian well enough to feel certain that to find him w-as to find you, so I came out w-ith the Hiltons, and the weeks on the boat seemed as though they would never pass. Then we only got here to find that Ailsa had been married for weeks—j’ust the sort of impulsive thing she would do. by the way. lam only glad that you have not married else while I have been aw-ay.”

“Boy—as though I would!” “ There was always Brian at hand, you know!” teasingly. “And there is no blinking the fact that he is worth a dozen of me.”

it is I have been taken for Brian’s wife all these years, though, of course, I didn’t know it!” Rosemarysaid simpljv “ People will take me for a bigamist now- that you have turned? nn to claim me. Rut. honestly, Mnnri-’e, £ r --nn rot Brian’s sf.vle nt all Wait till you have seen his Golden Girl!”

“You seem very sure of them!” “I am sure! Don’t you think I know Brian well enough after all these years to be able to tell. Why—even "this afternoon, as soon as he saw her, he was drawn to her side as though she were a magnet. Did you ever know Brian go two steps out of his way for a girl before ? It was always the girls who did the seeking with Brian.” “ Yes, that is so. By Jove, sweetheart, I can hardly realise that after all these nightmare years I have you safely again at last, and we can go home—just the two of us—home to dear old Ravensmere —and make up for all the time we have been compelled to waste.” “Four of us!” corrected Rosemary demurely. “ I may be enough for you, Boy of the World, but I insist upon having Dawn and Bride as well.” “Oh, I meant them too, of course!” with a little laugh. “ But Bride is always more or less in the background--and I have hardly realised the 'kiddy yet. What did you say she was called? ” “June Dawn! Because she was horn at dawn on a bright June morning in Italy, just a little while before we came 3 to New Zealand, and the doctors said that without her I could not possibly have lived. I have sometimes wondered why I did get better, but now, of course, I know. I always wanted a daughter called Dawn—and Brian knew that; sc when I was well enough to again take any interest in the.things around me, 1 found that he had registered her as 'June Dawn’—and so I had her christened.”

“ A pretty name, and she looked a little thing—but not so much like Rier mother as I could have wished.” “ She is the image of you, Maurice—that has been my comfort ever since my memory came back. Ah! there they are —see! Now can you say that Brian does not care ? ” Flower was standing on the mossy knoll where she had spent the long afternoon. She had twisted her glorious hair into a soft, loose knot in the nape of her neck, and Brian, kneeling on the grass beside her, handed her up the hairpins one by one as she required them. “ You should have gold ones,” he said idly, “ not these wire atrocities. I must see about it.” “ You must do nothing of the kind,” contradicted Flower - disapprovingly, “ how in the world do you think I should ever be able to account for gold hairpins? They would be lovely to have, though! ” . “ Well, here is the last of the beastly things. Are you going to give me a kiss for payment? ” No, I am not! It would take at least another half-hour to get you home if I give way to you in the slightest. Don’t you think it is a pity I can’t have the management of you? I seem to do very well for an amateur.” “Excellently. But then, sweetheart, you have never seen me in a difficult mood. I am a devil at times.”- “ We should have to exorcise the devil. Dust your knees well—else they will think that you have been proposing to m§ in the orthodox old fashion.” “That would be a pity,” Brian said grimly, but he rose to his feet as requested, apd brushed the knees of his trousers with his hands. “ Anything else in the small way, or shall we—” his voice broke off jarringly, and Flower, glancing quickly at him in alarm, saw that he was staring along the track which led homewards, and that every trace of colour had drained 'from his face. “ That is Rosemary,” he said in a strained tone. “Tell me, Flower, is there someone with her ? Or am I merely seeing things ? ” J Flower gave a hasty glance along the track. “ Yes, there is someone with her. Whoever can it be? He is quite a stranger to me. A tall, thin man with smoked glasses over his eyes. It is absurd, Brian, of course, but he looks ridiculously like you. You might almost be twins. Only he is very thin and not quite so big as you are.” Brian rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “We must be dreaming,” he said dazedly. “He is dead, I tell you—dead.” “Who is dead? Brian, you frighten dear boy. It is Rosemary, and is a man with her—a stranger. They are coming to meet us. What a mercy that I got my hair done up in time.” *

But Brian, with a queer little caught-in breath that was almost a sob, had- left her side and gone striding over the grass to meet the stranger, who held out both hands in eager welcome. “Maurice!” he said, in a strangled tone, . “ Maurice! Can I believe my eyes? ” J “ Did they ever play you false or fail you—those eyes of the hawk, Brian ? ” asked the stranger whimsically. It is my eyes which are good for very little now-a-days, worse luck.” “Maurice!” unbelievingly, “back from the- grave! ” > “ Well, not quite, but back from the Very brink of it. Brian—chum—soul of honour- I —how can. I possibly 'thank you for the way in -which you kept your vow ? ” “ Thank me ? I need no thanks! Could a Damarel do less? But your very coming has given me all the thanks I needed, paid me back a hundredfold for any debt that you fancy you owed me. I have just been bewailing the fact that the age of miracles is past, and see -—a miracle happens! Flower—■” he beckoned the girl to his side, and she came wonderingly, “ this is my brother Maurice, Rosemary’s husband—Dawn’s father—whom all these years we have counted dead. Now that he has so come back to us—Oh,

Golden Flower—don’t you see what it mea'ns ? Here is r the end of my trust. My oath binds me no longer. I am all yours now, and there will be no long life of loneliness for either of us. Can you realise it—l can’t yet? It seems too. good to be true. We need not even leave this' Maoriland of yours unless you wish it. When your mother is well we can come back here if you would rather be close to Ailsa. But we can wander the world over if you would prefer to. I" have still lots of money,sweetest, but all the responsibilities go with Maurice’s coming.” “ I must congratulate you,” Maurice said whimsically. “It is not usual to offer congratulations to a lady, I know, but in this instance I think I may venture, for it is a great achievement of yours to have netted the Hawk. He has escaped unscathed from so many cunningly-laid snares. But it is quite another thing to hold your captive, so I think if you will take the advice of s one who perhaps understands him as well as anyone on earth you will prefer to wander.” , “He means, Flower, that Bjian is a great traveller and a very restless individual,” Rosemary explained swiftly. “He is never really happy if he feels tied down in one place for long. How he ever stood those endless years when I was a helpless burden on his hands I cannot fully understand even now.” “ Nobody seems to think it at all necessary to introduce us,” Maurice went on, speaking directly to Flower, “ but it doesn’t really matter after all, does it? I am Rosemary’s, and you, I gather, are Brian’s, so we will leave it at that. Am I right ? ” “ Perfectly right,” owned Flower, with shy brevity. Maurice smiled in a friendly fashion. “ I used to wonder bitterly during the days of my long illness (it was a very painful one) what in the world I was being kept alive for when I would so much rather have slipped quietly out of life. Now I know. When Brian swore to take Rosemary into his keeping until my return I also swore an oath. I told him that some day, if ever he got his love affairs in a tangle, I would go over land and sea to straighten them out for him.”

“And you did! ” broke in Rosemary triumphantly. “ And I did,” agreed her husband, with a fleeting smile at her. “It was not decreed that I should be the first Damarel in history to break my given word, and so I have come as I promised, over land and sea, and back from the very brink of the grave, to claim my own again, and so set Brian free from the vow that threatened to ruin his happiness. It is my great pleasure that by so doing I can make you a present of the finest Damarel that the ages have produced. I have seen no woman in the world to whom I would more gladly give him, Golden Flower.” (The end.)