THE BLUE LADY.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 106, 13 June 1885, Page 4

THE BLUE LADY.

[BY FLORENCE MARRY ATT.]

A visitor for the Right Rovorend the Lord Bishop of Gorhambiiry. The Bishop is soated in his study puzzling his brain how bost to settle certain clerical disputes that havo boon submitted for his arbitration. Ho is a spare little man, drossed in a long black coat and gaiters, with vory whito hair and a noso liko a chilblain— a little man indeed, of so frosty an appoaranco that ho looks as if ho had boon expressly got up to ornament aTwelfth cake. But tho frostnoss is all on tho outside. His lordship's heart is in tho right placo, and brimming over with kindly fooling for his follow croaturos. " Who is it, Matthews ? " ho demands of tho dignified creature who has been kind onough to bring tho intolligonco to him. " Mr Rylo, my lord." " Oh, show Mr Ryle in, show him in at once," roplios tho Bishop, with Buddon intorcst, for Mr Rylo is a woalthy landowner in the dioceso of Gorhambury— a munificent man, morcovor, who sponds his money liborally on charities for the good of tho country, a friond and neighbour whom ovon tho Bishop of Gorhambury cannot afford to dospiso. In another mprnont Mr Rylo has ontorod the room and is shakng hands with its Right Rovorond occupant. Ho is a stout, llorid, genial-looking follow, also dressed in gaitors, but of quito a different cut to thoso of tho Bishop, and tho splashed condition of h is volvetoon suit no loss than tho crop ho carries in his hand shows that ho has ridden for some miloa through tho muddy lanos that lead to tho episcopal residence. " Woll, Mr Ryle, and what brings you out this wot morning?" domands tho littlo Bishop, when thoy havo shaken hands. " Businos, my lord, businoss !" roplios tho other, with a twinldo in his oyo ; "I havo come to a3k a favour of you on bohalf of a friend of mine." Tho Right Rovorond screws up his little chilblainy noso and laughs. "A favour ! Woll, Mr Rylo, if there is anytb'ng I can do for a friend of yours that you cannot do for him yoursolf you may command mo. But I am afraid pu stantial bonofits aro moro in your line thai 1 mine/' 1 ' It is not a benq/e'd, but a bono/ e I como to ask at your lordship's hands. Tho fact ip, my friend Darrcll, an excollont fellow-first-class man at Cambridgo, and been working liko a horse over sinco— ~ias suddenly conceived an ardent desire for matrimony. They all do it, you know, my lord, sooner or later ! Tho shophord's crook is a^l very well for a while, but it Btands no chanco against a four- post bedstead." The littlo Bishop chucklos softly to himself. He also commonced lifo with tho intention of dedicating it to tho good of suffering humanity, but thcro is a littlo Bishoposs and moro than one episcopal olivo shoot in tho upper story ; thatlooksas if his thoughts had at some timo or other wanderoi sadly out of tho beaten track. •• Yos," he admits, after a judicious pauso, " it is certainiy truo that a holpmcot has a wonderful offoct in sweotening tho path of duty." Mr Rylo laughs aloud. " And so my friond Hugh Darroll thinks, and ho has found tho holpmeot if he had only the means of marrying hor. But he is half starving by himself somowhoro down at tho East End of London, and it is usoloses trying to do a division sum with nothing but naughts. So I havo como to you, my lord, to soe if you can assist mo. Is thero no euro in this big diocoso of Gorhambury into which you could pop my friend and his wife, and lot thorn bogin a pastoral lifo together ?" Tho Bishop knit his brows. "How sorry I am," he replies, "to bo obliged to say 'No.' But I havo really nothing to ofFer you — nothing ! except, indeed, tho curacy of Sarcolott, and that Mr Darroll would not thank mo for. Indeed, I am just considering how I can unito it with that of Payne." " Bnt why ? What objoction is there to Sarcelott ?" " llavo you not hoard?" "Indoed, no! Thoso parish disputes and scandals aro not at all in my lino." Tho Bishop glanced around to see if tho door is closed and lowers his voico. " Wo don't liko to speak of theso things," ho says, mystoriously, " but I am afraid this story has boon too much talked about to bo a socrot. Havo you not heard tho reason that Mr Sheepshanks left Sarcelett ?" " Not a word of it, my lord. I did noi ovon know ho had gone till you told mo." " Ho could not stay hero, Mr Rylo ; no one will remain in that parsona^o aftor a fow months' trial. I havo boon bishop ol this dioceso now for ten yoars, and during that timo I havo put as many mon into tho euro of Sarcelott." "But what's tho mattor with it?" domands Mr Rylo again. "It is haunted !" whispered tho Bishop. His visitor bursts inso a loud and unseemly laugh. " Is that all, my lord ? Woll, thon, give Darrell the chanco of oxorcising tho ghost ! He is the man to do it, if anyone can. Ho is not a pale-faced, whito-livorod creaturo liko poor Shoopshanks, who would tromble at the falling of a loaf, but a stout-hearted, muscular man, with the wisdom of a serpent and tho conrago of a lion. He'll clear Sarcelett of its ghosts, I warrant you, and you'll nover hear another word about thorn after ho has taken up his residonce there" "It is all very well to laugh at such things, Mr Rylo. but do you think I should bo justified in allowing him to accept the cure? Romembor Sheepshanks is not tho only ono who has found life impossible at Sarcolett. Evory ono has told tho same tale and given up his means of subsistence sooner than remain there. I could not justify it to my conscience to install another man in that parsonago without telling him the truth." "Lot us tell it to him then,'" cried Mr Ryle. "I know my friend better than you do, and an obstacle in his way will only make him tho more oager to fight and overcome it." "" You can do as you choose in tho mattor, Mr Rylo. Tho euro is vacant and Mr Darroll is welcomo to it, on condition that you fully explain its disadvantages. Theparsonage is f* charming old houso, and tho stipend is four hundred a year. But thoso facts only prove how much its former holders must have been annoyed bofore thoy consented to resign so good a curacy." *• Darroll will not resign it," eays Mr Rylo, confidently. " I will mako out tho case to i him as black as I can, and in another month you will see him and his pretty little wifo as happy as two birds at Sarcolett. And now all I have to do is to thank you cordially, my lord, for your kindness in the matter." " I hope you may see cause to thank me as cordially three months hence," replies the littlo Bishop, with a perturbed countenance, which only causes the irreverent and unbelieving Rylo to break out laughing afresh. And his ridicule seems at first to bo justified. Hugh Darrell is as ready as himself to pooh-pooh the idea of so paltry a

thing as a ghost— even could it exist—having the power to ouBt him from a curacy that he is to shaao with lovoly Bessie Lymptom; and his gratitude both to his friend and tho Bishop of Gorhambury ia in proportion to his anticipation of coming matrimonial bliss. Only, ho saya, as he parts with Rylo— who has made a journey to London to convey the good news to him— _____ "I think, perhaps, that, all things considered, it will be as well to keep this story from Bossie's ears, Ryle. She's an awfully clover girl, you know —plucky and full of common sense ; still, woinon aro more timid and superstitious than men, and this idea of a ghost to bo looked out for might mar the pleasure of our honeymoon, So wo will keep it to ouiyolvos for tho present, and it will go hard with mo if tho first time it appears in Sarcelott parsonage affcor I am installed thoro I don't hit it such a crack ovor the head as will transform it into a ghost in earnest." He is brimming ovor with happinoss at his unexpected good fortuno, this morry Hugh Darrell. Ho ha3 no thought but for his pretty Bessio and his four hundred a year, and a few weeks afterward he goes up to tho altar with as firm a stop as ever bridegroom boro, and signs himself away for life as chcorfully as if he wore merely putting his hand to a receipt for fivo shillings. Everyone is contented and patisfiod, and before long tho viilagors of Sarcelott hear that thoir now parson has arrived and taken up his residence ia tho haunted house. Of course tho furniture is of the plainest and most modest description, although good Mr Rylo has sent many a pretty ornamont and usoful article ovor to Sarcelott. But Mr and Mrs Darroll are in tiie eoventh heavon as they arrango their various possessions, and Hugh varies tho monotony of labour with unclorical kisses. Thoir first difficulty arises on the question of servants, and Bessio cannot imagine why nono of the rosy cheeked girls of the village will consont to be her housomaid. IIowevor, sho has a usoful marriod sister in London, whom she makes a roforeo on all domestic matters, and who soon doppatcb.es her a couple of sorvants procured from the registry oilico in the next stroet. Then all goes merry as a marriage bell. The little household gets into perfect working ordor. The Rev. Ilugh Darroll has becomo a first-class favourito with his pariphioncrs, and Bessie has but one complaint to make, that tho village poople take up his timo so fully he has hardly & moment to bestow on herself — that is, until his afternoon rounds are concluded and the delightful tea-timo conies, when she can bring him his plippoisand his lounging coat, and sit at his feet to hoar all that he has to toll hoi of tho ovonts of tho day. But ono morning at breakfast tho Rov. Hugh proposes to his wife that they shall take a ramblo togothor. "Tho summer ia nearly over," he says' and we shall not have many more opportunities of spending Iho day out of doors, This morning, for a wondor, I am freo. Let us walk ovor to Gorhambury, Bessio, and oxplorotho beauties of tho cathedral." Bessie's faco falls. " How tiresome," she says, " that it should havo happened so, but I have engaged Mrs Brown to como to-day to alter my winter dresses, and if I do not superintend her she will not do a quartci of tho work. I cannot put her off if 1 would. What shall I do?" "Never mind," replies her husband, cheerfully; "the dress is of tho inoro iniportanco of tho two, and it is right you should attend to it. I will write my Sunday sermon instead, and wo will put off our little jaunt to tho end of tho week." So saying ho rises from tho tablo, kisses his wife, and walks into his study. As ho is writing his sermon, howevor, an hour afterwards, and raises his eyes mechanically to look for ideas among the roEoa in tho garden, ha is rather surprised to seo Mrs Darroll going down the gravelled path towards the gate. Sho is attired in a blue dress which ho has not seen boforo, but ho admires its shape and fashion and thinks how well it becomes her, as Bessie goos steadily through tho garden and out upon the villago road. Yet he cannot help wondering whoro Mrs Brown can bo, and why his wifo did not tell him she had brokon her appointment. Tho incident, trilling as it is, disturbs him, and ho doos not mako much way with his sermon tho rest of the morning. And whon he meets his wifo at tho early dinner table his first words revert to tho subject. 41 Why didn't you tell me, my dear, that you had changed your mind about going out this morning ? I should havo liked to accompany you.' " I have not beon out," says Bessio, indifi'orently. "Not been out ? Why, I saw you go \s ith my own eyes." " Nonsonso, Hugh. I have been upstairs tho wholo morning, working with Mrs Brown. I havo had no time for walking, worso luck ! It is quito a penanco to be kopt in such a lovely day." Hugh Darroll regards his wifo with the utmost astonishment. "My dear, you must havo forgotton. Do you think I am blind ? I tell you I saw you leavo tho house, and I can toll you what you wore into the bargain. A blue dress " "I haven't a blue dress in my possession," criea Bessio, in a tone of annoyance, "and do you think I would tell a falsehood for such a triflo ? I repeat, Hugh, I have not been out this morning." * ' It is very strange," replies her husband " who can it have boon, thon I inado sure ir, was you. But inquiro as he will, ho can hoar no furthor tidings of tho lady in blue, and an uncomfortable suspicion that his wifo has, for somo reason or other, docoivod him, romains on his mind. j A few. days afterward, however, Mrs Darrell, having a question to ask hor husband, stoals downstairs with the view of knocking at his study door. As she comes in view of it she sees the figuie of a woman dressed in blue standing on the throshold, who, as she catches sight of her, enters the study door and disappears. '•That must bo the lady whom Hugh mistook for me," she thinks to herself ; " but sho is not a bit like me, in figure or style, and I am sure he will never catch me woaring such a hideous blue dress. I wonder what her faco is like, and what sho can want to see Hugh for ?" Bossie is too sensible to bo suspicious or jealous, so she goes down to her kitchen for half an hour, and at tho end of that timo returns, and, gaining admittance to her husband's study, finds that ho is alono. "Whoro is tho lady?" sho asks, inquisitivoly, " and what did sho waiit with you V " What lady ?" demands Hugh, looking up from his writing. " The lady in blue, who was hero half an horn ago." " Thore has been no lady hero, Bossie." " Oh, Hugh, what a story ! I watched her go into your study, with a hideous oldfashioned dress on. "What was she like, Bessio, young or old?" " I am sure I don't know. I only saw her back. But sho came in here." " That I'll swear she didn't. No one has entered this room but myself."

"I can't see the good of denying it, pouts Bessie, "One would think there was something wrong.in the matter to hear the way you go on," " My dear, you cannot mean what you say. You know I would not deceive you. But wherever your lady friend wont it was not into my study." " I tell you I saw her," cries Bessie, "and you are not infallible, you know, Hugh. You declared you had seon me in the garden last Tuesday, when I had been upstairs with Mrs Brown all tho time, and now I believe it was this lady you saw, becauso of hor blue dress. At this remindor Mr Darrell looks visibly disturbed. What was the story Mr Ryle told him and they had both laughed at, about somo apparition at the parsonage, and' was it possible thatthisphantominblue, which had appeared to both Bessie and himself, had anything to do with it? A chilly feeling seems to creep down his back as ho reflects upon the possibility of such a thing, notwithstanding his serpent brain and lion heart. And ho does not know whethor to toll his wifo tho truth or to leave her to copo with hor suspicions as she best may. But as ho is deliberating with himself tho cook appears in tho passage and approaches tho open study door. "♦Hearing the mistress upstairs, sir, I make bold to say a fow words to you. I don't know the way as they go on in the country, but as a London woman I consider it's a tornpting of Providonce to leave a Christian house all on the latch, as this be," "Why, cook! What on earth do you moan ?" says Mrs Darrell, { , " Why, ma'am, thore isn't a door .as fastenB, not to say proporly ; and 'Liza and mo have been frightened out of our wits more than onco sinco coming here by the strangers hanging about tho premises." "You need bo under no alarm, cook," intorposos her master, "No ono in Sarcelett would come up to the parsonago with a dishonest intention, and 1 don't supposo thero is a houso in the village that is bolted at night ; so I should not like to bo the first to set an example of distrust. " " Well, that must be as you choose, sir," grumbles the woman ; "but 'taint pleasant to have strangers a-coming and going at all times. " "What strangci'3, cook? What do you mean ?" ropeats Mrs Darrell. " Woll, ma'am, there's a woman— a lady I 'sposo she calls horsolf ~ always a-prying and peeping about tho placo. Wherever we go, 'Liza and me, we'ro pretty sure to como across hor blue back, peering into a cupboard or a door." "Her blue bade! Do you mean to say she wears a blue gown ?" "Yes, ma'am, an old-fashioned concern of twenty years back. I guess she's somo prying old maid out of Sarcelott ; but she don't "pry into my pantry, and that I'll tell hor boforo sho's many days older. " "I know who you mean, cook. I have seon her, too, and so has the master— that is, hor back. But what is her face like ?" " I can't tell you that, ma'am. I've only seen hor back and her ugly bluo gown." "How strango ! and so havo wo. Oh, Hugh ! who can she bo ? This mu°t be inquired into." The look of alarm in his wife's eyes makes the husband decide that honesty will be tho bost policy. " Como with me, my darling, and we will talk tho matter over together. And as for you, cook, I will see that proper bolts and bars are placed upon tho outer doors, so that Eliza and you may sleep in peace for tho future." He draws his wife within the study as ho speaks, and then and thore makes a clean breast of all that Mr Rylo told him. Ho is vory uncertain how Bessio will take his intelligence, but ho tries to soften it by reminding her that (except for the parsonage being haunted) they might nover havo been married to each other. " I feared the shadow it might cast upon our first married days, my darling, but I hardly believed that it was true, and I hoped that if it were so, my love might have the power to remedy tho evil. You trust in God, Bessio, and you trust in mo. Will not these two trusts— human and divine— help you to cast out your natural dread of the supernatural ?" Ho is terribly afraid of tho effect his words may havo upon her, but to his delight sho seoins as fcarloss as himself. " A ghost, Hugh !" sho oxclaiins, with a vapidly changing colour. "Do you really think it is a ghost wo have seen? How very strange ! But do not bo anxious about mo. I am not in tho least afraid of it, Why should I bo? Poor thing • Next tiino she comes I will speak to hor — seo if I do not, and ask her what she wants in our beautiful parsonage." Even as she speaks the evening shadows seem to gather in the little study, and through them gleams tho blue dress of the dhmarn wo* anton u See, thoro sho is !" cries Bessio, clinging to her husband. " How strange and weird it seems that sho should stand there, yot never show her face. Are you afraid of us ?" sho continues, addressing their ghostly visitant ; " you need not bo. We aro your friends. Show us your faco ; tell us if we can serve you by our sympathy or our prayers, und we will do all in our power to givo you rest." But the only answer she receives is convoyed by a backward waving of the phantom hand, as the spirit melts into thin ! "Let me go after hor," says Bessie, ! struggling in tho clasp that would detain [her. I "No, dearest; do nothing rash," roplies j Hugh Darrell. "I am thankful beyond measure to find how little thi3 story has affected you, but thoro is no necessity for you to court tho mystery that surrounds us. Let us hope that it may dio out as it has arison." But tho parson's hope is not realised. Tho lady with the blue dress is seen oftoncr than ever aftor thab day, and the occupants both of the kitchen and drawingroom bocomp so familiar with her appearanco as to mind hor no more than if she had been one of themselves. They meet her overywhere upstairs and downstairs her blue back goes boforo them, and the servants, discovering at last that she is an apparition, make almost as much fun out of it as their mistress. Yot they nover seo her face. Thoy know exactly howher dress ismadeand how her hair is worn, but no one has had the goodorillfortunetoviewherfeatures. It has bocamo a regular custom to follow the phantom and banter her on her modesty rospecting her charms ; but no jesting has induced her to turn and look at her pursuers, until one day, as Mr and Mrs Darrell are downstairs together, a fearful scream calls them to tho upper story, where they found their housemaid, Eliza, foaming on tho ground-in a fit. Restoratives are freely applied, and as soon as the woman hag recovered her consciousness, she is eagerly questioned as to the cause of her illness. "Oh! ma'am," she exclaims, "I have seon the Blue Lady, and I must leave you." • ' What nonsense, Eliza ! Why, you have seen the Blue Lady as often as you have seen me. Why should you be frightened of her now?" "Oh ! but 1 have seen her faoe, ma'am. I was turning down your bed, when she came around the other side and .looked at?

A marvellous story is told of a man who I became entombed alive in a well, but was dug out little the worse after several days' imprisonment. His first request when uncovered was for something to drink, so that he must henceforth be classed with Tantalus and the Ancient Mariner. We assume, of course, that there was plenty of water in *hft well, but that he could not get at it,