TWO NEW YEARS' DAYS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 1855, 10 February 1874, Page 4

TWO NEW YEARS' DAYS.

(From Tinsley's Magazine.) v(Goncluded.) Mrs Morton was at no pains to conceal her desire to -see me married. Mr Gainsford, the gentleman whose attentions on the ice that- first afternoon had annoyed me so mucb y was a constant visitor at the manor. In Tain, when I knew he was in the house, I tried to keep 'in my school-room out of his way ; 'Mrs Morton would always manage to bring him in for some excuse, and try to leave us alone-; but that i never would allow. At last she confided to me that he had told her long since that he had fallen in love with me at -first sight ; thit, though. l was penniless, -I was a lady, and should grace the head of his table, and that she had pro - mised to help on his suit. She represented to me, as •powerfully as she could, the glories andhonours-of the-Grange contrasted with the lonely life of a governess, particularly when I should find myself obliged to, seek a situation among strangers. I could hot let her give my wealthy suitor any encourage ment while there still lingered in my' heart the hope that, after all, something might arise to pro-ve that Horace was not s.d' false as circumstances -made him appear. Twelve months passed. Mr Gainsford had proposed and been rejected, much to Mrs Morton's displeasure. But nothing daunted, be had declared his intention to wait one, two.three years— .indeed, till I was actually engaged to some one else. I suppose it was the first time thie will had ever been thwarted ; so that added zest to his courtship. Then came abetter from Horace. He had obtained his discharge from the navy, and was going to begin life as a colonist. No word for me, though Pet was remembered, and even indifferent friends. '« I Bhall look out for a rich wife," he said. And as I heard this my mind was made up. He had done all in his power to prove to me that he had only regarded me iu the li&htoj . a toy, to play with for one' hour, to be cast aside and forgotten the next. I woo.,' d now take my life in my own hands. I uliquld never love again in that romantic way, as 1 now called it ; I would do the next best thing— marry Mr Gainsford, and try to love him ont of gratitude. I knew our tastes differed, tbat we were utterly uncongenial, that he was only a gentleman in ao much as money and social position could make him one ; and yet, knowing all ibis, I resolved to accept him, to spend the reet of my life with him. What ehortsightedthings wedotogratify our pride and pique 1 And how I luted myself .to become engaged to Mr Gainsford'!' He pressed me to name an early day for the marriage ; but for tbat I was not prepared, and only consented to the engagement on the condition that it should last for one year at least. ••••■■'-.■ » i .r 'A Ten years I Does that eeem a long time to drop the thread of my story ? Well, it is New Year's-day again. Do you recollect the circumstances of this time ten years ago ? My friends were few, and I very poor. I am rich now ; but at the time I would recommence my story I am Ethel Peel s ill. I have my own maid, and my uncle's parsonage is supplied with all needful luxuries with my money. lam dressing for a dinner party, and lam to meet Hoi ace Felton. Yes, a-jfar all these yearß we are to meet again. But on what terms ? This evening will decide. Meanwhile I will gather up a few of the missing links to connect the chain of my Btory. I had only been engaged to Mr Gainsford a month when I was summoned to wh'_l't,' it was feared, would prove my uncle Hugh's death bed. He wished to bid me good-bye, and to know that my aunt had some one to comfort her when he was gone, all^to^ cousins being boys. Of course I went at once. How merciful is the Providence that over-rules the events of our lives, that stretches out a hand to turn us from" the slippery paths that we, in our wilfulness or blindness, choose ! I have often since looked back, and shuddered at the life I was so n«afly ; taking for my own. My uncle got better-; and in the sweet unworldly atmosphere'iof t \& good man's home, I saw what I had dt*.e'in< itß true light and repulsivenesß. I told <toy> aunt xpy story. Tt was a great relief to have her sympathy and counsel. Mie with' difficulty obtained my permission to relate the entire facts of the case to my uncle, and very' much, I felt, I must have fallen in his estimation. He most decidedly advised me towrite at once to Mr Gainsford, telling 'him honestly how impossible I found it tb'give him my heart, and beg to be released ifrom my engagement, returning the few presents I had received from him. He was not so easily got rid of ; and I felt I had behaved so badly to him in thc end, that had not my uncle remained firm in his command with him, I should have relented, in the hope of making some atonement for my selfishness; He pointed out to me that a marriage such as I contemplated with a man whom 1 did not love, and no good person could esteem; was unholy in God's sight, and must bring misery in the end. I do not think Mrs Morton could hav* known so much of Mr Gainsford's charactei as we afterwards learnt, or she certainly would not have helped on our engagement as ehe did. At last it became a thing of the past ; and two years afterwards we heard that.be had married a very young girl, .at 'the end of .a month's cou tship. Of course I did not return to the manor. Pet had another { governess, wad I another situation. I did

not fill it long, as my Aunt Goldney's lingering malady toot a more fatal form. Sbe begged me to come to her, and I felt I shpuid be selfish to refuse. Reluctantly 'X went';, but when once there I was able to fulfil my duty cheerfully. When sbe died I found, to my surprse, that she had left me nearly a thousand a year. lat once returned to my unc'e's, and made arrangements to live with him. With youth, beauty, and wealth, you will not be surprised if 1 te'.l you I had many suitors; but I distrusted tbem all. It was my money they wanted, not me. 1 So the years glided away, and I was Ethel JPeel still. My uncle was now very old, my cousinß making their way in the world as large families generally manage to do, and I creating fresh interests for myself, when a nfcw colour was given to my life. Pet had married very early, and had become a handsome little matron, writing to me from time to time long epistles full of the praises of her two children. We had met once or twice since I left Morton Manor, but no, one word had I heard of Horace Felton, until six months before this, my second New Year's Da3,.when Pet' wrote to tell me that her uncle Hora.e was- coming home ; I must recollect him (as if I were likely to forget). He wa_ sent for to take possession of a large estate left him by his uncle, who had died childless. «* We are full of curiosity to see him," she wrote ; " and we hope the meeting will cheer my mother, bhe has been sadly out of health since my father's death." It was thus I heard of his returu to Eng ! land. Was he married ? Should we ever meet again ? Mrs Morton and I rarely corresponded ; so it was with some surprise that, a few months after I had heard from Pet, I received a lengthy epistle from her. 1 will net trouble you with the whole of it, but will give you the substance as shortly as possible. Horace was coming home unmarried. That afternoon long ago she had seen the confirmation of her fears, that an attachment had sprung up between her brother and me, and had resolved, if pos-ible, to put an end to i«, knowing that he had nothing beyond his profession, and that all chance of future prosperity depended on his keeping upon good terms with his uncle, who would have been irretrievably offended by an imprudtnt marriage. All this she represented to him during their walk ; but wilhout effect. He loved me, and believed I loved him., and cared for nothing else. We could wait. Then she showed him another aspect of the affair. I was very poor, must go on getting my living as a governess for the next three years at least before he would be at all in a position to marry, and then witii only a narrow income to depend on indefinitely, while there was Mr Gainsford willing, she knew, to marry me at once. I was verv young, did not kh iw niy own mind, that in' our relative positions he would be acting very selfishly to bind ine by any engagement. He replied, that if he remained where I was he mu.t claim me ; he could not help himself. Then she advised him to go away for a time, leaving it to her tact to set matters right with me. He trusted her, Uttle thinking the part she would play, for his good, as she imagined. Her surmise with regard to Mr Gainsford was verified by bis .making her his confidante. b^ e , at 05 c . e >rotfe; to Horace as though the .whole affair was settled, and hence the criiel> 'misunderstanding and separation of . years She had never gue sed of the depth of", her, brother's love for ihe, or she would not have acted as'she did. ' She regarded it merely as a passipg fancy for a pretty girl, of whivh he might easily be cured to the advantage- qf both; But when she found' how 'serious a matter it was, she deeply repented the course she had- taken ; but only discovered her mistake when it was too late to repair the injury she bad done. She found, that her bi other's was a nature that 'could love but once. He wrote at rare intervals ; and my name was never mentioned. Mrs Morton wrote now to beg me to forgive her, and 'to prove that I did so by coming to spend a few months with, her.. That, 1 unhesitatingly refused to do ; at the same time assuring her of my full forgiveness, aud iu return .asking, one favour-. tMt she would not' tell 'Horace of my altered fortunes. 'Not that I feared' be would turn fortune banter, but that pride! might now •ke l ep^ ! H!pfi ,, 'fr o iri ,, _ne, w'T'tcai'd' that his uncle had 1 left the estate heavily, mortgaged*. Now.T have brought you up ip my second New Ye-it's Day ■ Horace within twenty miles of me. We met at' a hbuse of a mutual friend; •' lie ffidtfbt know T v. as to bfe there*; so Ihad the advantage over him'/, You will easily imagine mine was rib careless toilette that evening. "Something of "that first early bloom of beauty was gone Twenty-nine has not all the charms of nineteen. But my friends told me I altered wonderfully little ; my hair a shade leps golden, and my figure not so slim and girlish you can just understand the difference. The fashions of forty years ago Would not cr.nvev a pleasing impression to you now ; but I may tell jou that my dress was of rich blue silk, pale sky-blue, trimmed with white lace ; and I wore handsome pearl ornaments of my aunt Goldney's. It was New Year's Day. . 1 had not forgotten that now ; and I received the good wishes of the season with a pleasant conviction that much that was sweet awaited me in the future. I was the first to arrive ; and when Horace came into the room, I wo. sitting where I could s.e him without hi. seeing me. Could it be ten years since w. had met ? The same honest manly face, so little changed, scarcely aged a day. I fanc\ people who are in health do not alter mm 1, from thirty to forty. In a few minutes h< was at my side, and we were being introducer as strangers. " Mr Felton, a very old friend of mini just come from Australia, knows some riends ot yours he tells me, Miss Peel," sail my host. Our eyes met. Ido not know how or whj >t was, but in that one ghince we 6eemed mutually to understand each other. He took

the seat next me, and led me into dinner. We were not very talkative for a while. At last he said; . -" I heard from Emily tbat.you were with your uncle, and thought that my best.chance of meeting you was to come, up. and stay with the people who were to have brought me here to night. They are kept at home i with colds, and urged me to bring their ex- 1 cuses ; I only landed three days ago, and had ] not hoped to have met you so soon. So strange that our first mee ing should have beeu on a New Year's Day, and our reunion on the very same day ; may I say reunion?" Ido not think : l made any reply ; but my .ilence seemed to satisfy him. So we met after all those weary years. There was very little to explain when he came to me at my uncle's. Jb-mily had been beforehand. She had kept her promise with regard to not mentioning my aunt Goldney's will. I was able to do that myself when he was lamenting that he feared, from what his solicitors told him, we should be obliged to live carefully for a few years if we wished to pay off the mortgages on the estate. Then I told him of my money ; and the principal, which was entirely in my own control, proved to 'ie amply sufficient to get rid of all obligations. We were married after a very short engagement. My first present was a tiny locket. It contained a piece of faded lichen. Many New Year's Days have come and gone since those two eventful ones of which I have written ; but they have left their impress on all the others. lam old now, and but a few more New Years at most can be mine ; but thc experience of a long life has taught me that we must expect-. lights aud.shadows to fall across our path. Does to-day bode evil, to-morrow may bring good. . To few, very few indeed, is it given to walk altogether in the shade.