LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 3694, 13 February 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

GREYSMEAD NOOK, DX B. 0 A. It sounded pretty enough, but my fathor was far too practical a man to name hisboute with simplo regard to tho euphony of the name. " We may wish to sell it tome day," he eaid, " and an inviting name may add a per* ccntageon tho saler then adding, "Eng. lishmon Lavo a weakness respecting' nooks/" I have no weakness respecting "nooks;" they brought me to my mind's eye the corner of tho nursery, whore I was mode to stand for hours for auy trifling fault that my step> mothor's koen eyes never failed to deteot. My mother died of decline when I was six months old. Poor mammal Sho had taken it into her head to become a vegetarian, and, «» it suited -my father's purse, after a feeblo roinonswftfaw ;lia, lot her go her own length in the imiro^ hnd it brought her to her gravo7^,A^*al^red dietwns adopted after consumption' had fatally developed, but of course it came too late. Mits Ellis, during the last six months of my mother's illness, was her most devoted nurse and friend j and so well did she act her part that at his wife's death-bed my father acceded to the request that he would finally choose none but Miss Ellis to take the place of wifo and mother in the household so soon to be made desolate. When I had been motherless ten months, my fathor married Miss Ellis. Some wellmeaning folks called it " heartless, 11 but my now mamma sighed plaintively, and said it was all done for the sake .of tho dear motherless babe who was pining for a mother's care. Tho first illustration of motherly care the "dear babe" remembers was my being seized and carried off to tho nursery, my arms being violently slapped tho whole way upstairs, for having dared to pick up an examine tho silver bells of my step-parent's first babygirl. If ever my fathor took mo in his arms on hisrotum from town, I was made to suitor for it for days—such was his wife's jealous tjrannj. One day, for refusing to bo gorged with porridge— her own child would not touch it— l was sent into tho snowy garden and told to play. Poor little mite ! The snow toon filled mj thin shoes, and tho cook, coming out to see after mo an hour later, found me in tho old summer-House at the end of the garden, crouching down in a comatose state. I nearly died. Had it not been for the consequences, I am sure my step-mother would have been glad if my eyes had closed for ever. I was aboutjtcn when he bought, or rather built, Gmsincad Nook. Tho meadow on which the houso was built was his own, hence tho name. A largo roomy dwelling of about t/ronty rooms was erected— for my father had plenty of money, also plenty of children, albeit to his regret they were all girls. Oh, what a fagging life I had I Although a nursemaid was kept, how could one pair of hands wash, dress, and keep the wardrobe in ordor of soven girls, the youngest being in arms P Accordingly tho ohargo of tho latter always foil to my share. My arms ache now as I think how I used to plod from ono room to another with that heavy child'; still I had ono consolation whilo they were babies— the ohildren always loved mo, and so little of that commodity did I get that the smallest orumbs were as " honey to my taste." As my step-sisters began to reach girlhood, a clever dally governess directed their studies. To save appearances, I was sometimes allowed to have lessons with them j and, being fond of music, and Miss North considering I had a "gift of music," sho encouraged it to the utmost. I was beginning to roward her pains by my progress, when, one day, during my hour's practice, jealous cars caught the sounds from tho school-room, and from that titno the moment that I touched the piano "Miss Marion" was invariably " wanted." I was deeply disappointed, and many a night did I cry myself to sleop. One day I suddenly came upon somo of the " Waverley Novels," which holped to dry my tears, and every sparo moment- 1 dcroted eagerly to thoir perusal. A golden time followed, for I continually lost my own identity in dreaming of the grand scenes and heroes in those fascinating pages. One cvonins, while straining my eyes at the window in tho lingering daylight— l was feverishly eager to finish a chapter of "The Fortunes of Nigel,"— the book was suddenly snatched from my hand, and Lucinda, my eldest stop-sister, confronted me. In a tone of indignation sho asked how I had dared to take a book from tlio library. I said boldly that I had as much right as sho to read what belonged to papa. A look of astonishment overspread her features ; my presumption was. too. great to bo replied to. With a warning gesture she left tho room. In a few secohdsjtt|) cajftio 4I mamma." Never Bhall I forget' that storm 1 Her eyes fairly glared, and her hands opened und shut convulsivoly 5 for I was fully roused, and in my troublo I expect I uttered a few plain truths. It all ended in my being transferred to an apartment at tho other side of tho house— a dreary placo enough at tho best of times. But 1 welcomed the chango 5 for I could go out at will and roam in a tionso thicket at the end of tho orohnrd, where, if I had only hod my beloved books, I should have been happy. My meals wore brought to mo regularly by tho nurse, who, when unobserved, always showed mo tho greatest of kindness. Tho cook also sent by her hands many a sweot little Ctiko or daiuty. Having no other resourco I stitched ajvuy incessantly. ttut lifo was very heavy cm my hands, and I began to form vaguo plans of running away, although I feared odventuros liko thoso of Margarot in •' Tho Fortunes of Nigol " wcro out of date. Ono evening, when nurao brought my too, she told mo, under great promise of secrecy, that I was going away to school. " Aro you suro P" I asked, hopo succeeding astonishment in n>y brenst. II Well, Miss Miirion, you poo it's begun to get about a littlo as to how they was a-going 011 with you, and master wns ntoard as how his good immo might bo spilt; so ho has hoou asking tho muter of a friend of mino whoro his daughters j?o to school, nnd its my belief fi >'« going to s. % nd you."

. " Whw > ? % miica away-the more & better for you! Where, Miss WionP Why. »n France I" It wo» a bright morning whon wo landed at Bnilogne. Dear, dirty, fishy town, I low the »ound of its i arr.c t Mr father had been dreijdfulk Ma-sick, to I B nw littlo of him ti m ing the pa- »«go. Tho rohool into which I was being hurried was a very large one s il hid formerly been a convent; and was a loo* rambling building Tho pupils were both t wnch and English. Many nwrters and mb'.ri<oßaawerocm)lo)c3, but the ruling power* wero two sisters, Protect ant Fh>rohwoin». ».«■* rider of wKom wai oW called by the P"P™ {«. ««•'» ttDd her •»»•» " Mademoi. «elle Sophw." I trembled as I sfrod in ihe drawing-room, unconsciously c*.,..ining every foreign knickknack near me. Presently la mm glided in — ft talLdark-etcd, stately woman, who** mm was to skilfully disguised that sho ttithi tare defied Time himself to "fix" it. I|V father convei-M-d with her in a quiet tone for n little time. > he asked in turn «. v*>ral qaestio s, but, a* thtx *p.ko in Frcmh, notoo* word of which 1 lied been taught, of conn* tho fwrlioulaw of their convenation wen ur» known to me. • My father took the opportunity of situ* mo a Mrcreign, U-Ling me at the tame tin* that. I was to nut it away carefully, and bos could loply, had staken Land* with la mm. arm wa» gone. C^ly attention wa« immediately attracted by the entrance of a fine old gentleman, leading » .8»™ « »^>«fc twelve, who wu miv bitterly. '^ "I certainly do not believe thai eitherXat* or Annie were auoh abocking babies when thcr came. 1 ' And ho then turned to lament whomhe wm evidently well lroowD, and tbook hands with her cordially. •'Kowvwadann»teWhe in plain EDgftb, hero's Rote, M»ke her turn out a* bow* & woman as both of her sitters have don* under your clever managemeirt, and our thanks will be threefold. Bless the child. how she cries l M !! L** 01 maram »» George ! " <" course voudo, a&dco does this pal* lutlo thing titling here. Come to me. roa wite i » and he held out his hand to nie. I came forward hesitatingly { but a tfanat at his genial face dispelled all fe»r, andl poi myhtndeonfidinglyln hi*. La **rt whY perodafewwords. , "Who wid soP" he atked quickly. "What's his nameP Orey, Grry-oV* know— the Mincing lane fellow! tfadaa, this child has a step>mother, and v father i. ■ Ah, well, never mind! Come l.era, litU* woman {"and he took off «uy old black feli hat and laid it down beside His niece's pretW head-gear, (To be continued.)

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