LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4343, 25 March 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

FAB STKiNCrEB THAN FIOTieK {London Society.) ChaptbbVl.

ÜBIGET IB BIGHT. Mr Henrr Muaon sal alone in hia chamber?; situated ok the second-floor of a house in Clement's lan. He felt singularly depressed and disheartened. The dull days before Christmas ti-d come with a Jeaden sky aud a. drizzling rain; and dull timea had fallen upon hia fortunes, and one diaaatsr after another seemed darkening his present and

obsaurimj - Is future. Hot a post arrived hut brought with it some contribution of unpleasantness big- or 'littlei There was nothing he desired he«ppeared able to obtain ; he had but to stretch his hand out seize any object, and. 10, it eluded his grasp. One appointment after another he tried to secure, but his endeavours pro ve4 useless. He thought over every possible- way of repairing bis fortunes, but without sue* cess. Ho had lit upon a vein of ill-luck, and seemed destined to work it out exhaustivety.'; There was Martinly on hia. handa now. He did not know what to do with that. • «' I almost think I will live dow_'t_ere-my : self and turn farmer," he eaid half aloud; ** but if I did, I auppoae the hay would beat and the weevil get amongst the -wheat. I should have my sheep dying witb.TOt,-and the •tall-cattle would develop aorne fresh "form of plague. Were ifc not for Molly £ would sail for the Colonies ; bat I cannot and leave her — I cannot." And he tenderly, as if already H -were part and parcel of himself, took out a little ease, and looked at the bright bauble it contained, lying so softly on the rich blue velvet lining. "What a poor little gift it is!" he thought ; "and yet how pleased my darling will be to have it ! I can in anticipation hear her scolding me for my extravagance. O Molly, I only wiah for your sake I could afford- to be extravagant !" And he fell to mußing, thinking how delightful it would be if he were rich enough to buy all sorts of rare and lovely things' for bis pretty one, his good, true, bravo, eweet little -• giriFrom tViia reverie he was roused by-atknock at the door of hia room. - "Come in!" he cried, and then stood up, amazed to see a woman cross the threshold. It was in the half-light, that is so dim aud indistinct during the winter-time of year, and tfll she came nearer to the hearth hecould not • distinguish her face ; but the moment he did so he cried, "What is the matter, Ellen? Anything r wrong with — with — " "No, sir} Miss Molly is quite well, '.and - they are all quite well at the Square. '1 have come, sir, to speak to you if I may, about a matter that has long been troubling me?' '• To be sure you may," he answered. ' I only hope I shall be able to help you. -Sit -- down. And now what is it t" "Sir," she began, " I think you are being kept out of yonr rights, and that I ousrhfc to • have spoken sooner; but, you see, I could not? • tell for certain—" . < M What could you not tell for certain-?" he asked, es she paused and hesitated. _ "Whether my old mistree?, Mies Emily, was really dead and buried, and someone else getting her money in her stead." j Mrs Oslcey stopped suddenly. The young man was holding her tightly by the wrist. "Take care what you are saying," I he ex-' • claimed. "I am not in a mood for ifoolery,. and this is not the Ist of April." I am speaking tbe truth, sir, as far*as I know it," she answered. "My mother nadvised me not to mako. or mell in the affair, for it was no business of mine; but wl-en I came back, and saw Miss Moll)'* s*eet face, and the children all gathered about me with their pleasant waya, I felt I could keep ailence no longer.; -so now, sir, you know just what I believe, and can act as you like." " I beg your pardon," he said, releasing "her wrist, aud seating himself in hia accustomed chair. "Now tell me, please, exactly what you think, and why you think it" She began ab the beginning, and told him everything through to the end. When she had finished he made no comment -on her story, bnfc, rising and taking his hat, said, " Wait here, pleaae, till I come back;" and then left her without another word. She did not trouble or perplex herself about what he was going to do : the matter waa now • out of her hands; the secret, whether for . good or for evil, had passed away from her keeping. She had done right, if tardily.;aud if no one else had done wrong, why, no; ' harm could come of it to any person. i And never in her life, perhaps, did «he ; •■ feel so "kindly towards Mrs Wilkins. Nsver was the knowledge more bitter that through 'her this blow must be dealt, if a Wow were,

- dealt atall. .... , . . i She looked back over her life ; she thought: of her own small temptations, of how securely; - ehe bad been kept all her days from the desire to commit any heinous sin ; and yet 'how; often she mu»thave gone wrong but -for the lessonß learned at her grandfather's knee, the patient endurance and unremitting toil 6i her mother, and the sight and knowledge of the . staunch faithfulness and rugged honesty of the poor people amongst wli >ra her childish days had been passed. Since she had been out to service she had 1 known little misses and little masters, whose : 'hands were far more given to picking and! stealing than the boys and girls with whom j she went to school; and in a dumb inoou- • sequent sort of way the idea assumed some . sort of shape in her mind that to the peer as' to the peasant it might be bf the most enormous importance whether or not he came Of an honest atock. As, for instance, her mind ran idly overthe scenes she had witnessed at Mrs Wil-i kins' ; tbe mean shifts, the false actions and! falser statements, the utter selfishness, the' lack of -sll idea of responsibility here or ac-' - eountability hereafter ; the scheming, the absence of all worthy motives, the utter disregard of everything which could not advance worldly interests er further some ignoble end.

What had Miss Emily ever seen or heard to renderher a good wife or a noble woman? what, perhaps, had Mrs Wilkins herself ever seen ? How could one reared in suoh an atmosphere sfloape mental infection, any more than a person dwelling with foul surround* - ings could escape disease ? And there could be little doubt that tbe woman who was now passing as Mrs Mason had herself been educated to 'regard success - as the only one thing needful. Of herself she might not have been able to > plan and cany out suoh a deception ; but ehe must, Mra Calcey felt, have taken to it : kindly. Hers waa the smooth skin, the calm brow,-the quiet eye, the plump figure of one who was troubled by no qualms of eon- ; science, by no remorse, by very little dread of detection. She looked prosperous and well-to-do, easy in her mind, with no fox . gnawing at her -breast. All theae things, and many more of the •same kind, passed through Ellen's mind as ■ehe sat near the -window, looking out into the deepening darkneßS of the coming night. She could not have-given expression to them, rehe could .not have put them into shape and form, because the moulding and olothing of ideas are matters -whioh do not come quite naturally to people of any rank in life, but least of all to one bra in the rank Mrs Calcey had sprung from, and educated aa she had been.; 'but they stirred her very heart -far all that, and filled it with a great Sty and a yearning sorrow. She would have ted to -cave her old mistress from the eon■sequences of her own act. She wanted to see Mian Molly's future husband righted and in possession of his own, but she shrank from the idea that Mrs Wilkins would be

pumsked and perhaps beggared. She had never honoured thai ladyls gray hairs, but etill ehe could not endure the idea of their being covered withehune. It was hard that it should have been all her doing, but she could not hesitate or draw back now. She had spoken, sad cordd not recall her words. If she could, she would not. All ehe felt moat grieved for was that Bho had kept silence ao long. Mr Mason was but a shorf i no absent. He came back accompanied by .-:i other gentleman, whose voice ahe recogni- •.! in a moment as it rang clear and hearty through the room. " Thia ia a strange way for us to meet, Mra Calcey," said Mr Ramsden, walking up to her sn ' .-stretching out his hand as pleasantly as if s .chad been some lady of high degree. " This ia so odd a atory you have been telling Mra Mason, that aa it seems rather confused I thought I v,uld like to I

hear it for myself." And then he busied himself drawing down the b.u.'.is, while Mr Mason lit tho lamp, and

pullerl forward an easy chair for his friend's accommodation.

'•"Now, Briart (tbe old name cornea moat raturally from my lips you hear), to begin at the beginning of thia strange tale : you got my letter, and then, as _ understand, went to 'Purling and aaw Mrs Mason."

"Yes, sir." "And it did not occur to you then there ■ waa anything wrong? " " * c No, air. I was puzzled a bit, but I did not' imagine there was .anything wrong. You ace, many years had passed since I left Mar■tialy, and Miss Emily was ill and weak in those dayß, and poor master harassed and tried •too ; and they did nofcogree, as you know, and ekd was always fretting. ' "Exactly j and so— ' "•When I saw her fat and well it did not soem to me so very strange that she should look different in some waya. As to ber hair, the gold in it did not surpriße toe, because, as you hare perhaps heard, ladies oan make their hair any colour nowadays ; and though the length and thickness astonished me, still I thought she might have got something to make it grow." '5 Quite true. Then when you left you had no suanicion that you had not seen Mrs Maaon ? "

" No, sir. - I waa not quite eaay in my mind, yet I -could not have said why I was unoaay. The 1 thing that I have thought of moat since that day was that she did not know me. No,< sir, she did not ; and she did not to the last remember my name. When I told ifc to her,-she took it up wrong, and called me B a ant, and wrote Bryant; still I knew poor Emily never troubled much to remember anything that. did not concern herself, and many people forget names." • " Of course : -they do. And so you got the character you went after, and engaged yourself as maid to LadyPoplett; and in the course of a few months you travelled toJParis with j your new miatreßß. Tell us just what occurred '"there." " I was sitting one day in her ladyship's bedroom mending some lace, when I heard voices of people talking on the other aide of the partition. Ihe rooms were divided with wobd panelling, and every word came aa quite diatinct to me aa if spoken in my very ear. I might not have taken bo much notice, only it seemed strange to hear English spoken in France; and besides, I felt as if I knew the voice." • " It aeems you did too." "Yes, it was my old mistress's voioe, Mrs Wilkkiß. Bhe said,— 'We ought to leave here at once. It will never do to run the risk of meeting her at such close quarters.' "Then the other lady answered, in tho slow sort of drawling way Miss Emily had of talkand with her lisp, — 'You are sure you made no mistake ? " ' 'Do you think I am purblind or doting ? " •asked Mrs Wilkins. 'I saw her going out with' her -mistress this morning. Mistake! One cant- mistake a face one haß lived in the house with for yeara. She must not meet . you again. ' I would rather run tbe gauntlet of a dozen deteotivea than of one lady's-maid. There are a hundred, little things they notioo about one 'of their own sex a man would never see."* "It was a true observation," remarked Mr 'Bamsden, " and one whioh did credit to the old lady's astuteness. Well, what did the other answer ? " "They were interrupted, I think— at any •rate, I heard no more ; but what I had heard excited my curiosity so much, I asked Lady Popletfc if - she would kindly ask whether a Mra' Wilkins was in the hotel, and the number of her room. I can't think what poaaeaaed • me, for I am sure I did not want to be mixed -up with them : but I sent a message to say I should like to pay my duty to Mrs Mason." "Yes ; .and the answer ?" " I had leave to do- so ; but I did not see Mrs Maeon then, only Mrs Wilkins, and she was chatty and pleasant, to be sure. She was 'so sorry her daughter wasout (but I knew she was not out), and didn't I think her altered ? She said poor dear Mr Mason had been a great trial, and there waß no disguising the fact hia death had proved a great relief. Emily had been very ill for a long time after ahe was left a -widow, and all that sort of thing ; and then she asked lots of questions about what I was doing, and how I happened to be in Paris. "■ I told her how I was leaving almost immediately, and asked if I could take anything back for her to- England ; and then she was civil. 'She thought ahe would trouble me with a small parcel, and she only wished Miss Emily was in ; but ahe had gone to see some friends in the outskirts, and would be away for a few-days. Before I started, however, I managed to make sure Mrs Mason was in the hotel all tbe time, and myself unseen to get a good look at her, " Bhe is very like Miss Emily. ' I declare, -even after -what I had heard, I could not bare said for certain it was not my young mistress grown older, stouter, and better looking." There was a moment's pause. -Mr Bamsden turned his eyes upon Mr Mason's anxious face. ; then he looked at Mrs Calcey, and said briskly — "'We come, .now, to the time vwhen you went out of town with Master Arthur Montrelle. Tell me about what happened at the lodgings then, please." "I had not a thought in my mind then about Mrs Wilkina or her daughter," answered Mra Calcey. " I was troubled at having the whole care of Master Arthur, and yet 1 felt .glad too. When he began to get stronger I did not stay in his room at night ; and often after he -was in bed I went down into the landlady's parlour and had a chat -with her, or else into the kitohen ; for the servant was a nice respectable young woman, well- spoken and good principled. "One night it so happened shebadbrought a little fancy- sort of trunk— a kind of miniature trunk, small enough to carry about easily and set en a table — into the kitohen to look out some buttons she wanted to trim a dress. " They had/got scattered about among the other thinga.and ahe turned out several articles in order to find them more easily. '"At last ' She put a funny box before my eyes, and said — " ; Did you ever see anything like that before ?" Evidently meaning that I never had.

" I looked at it, and I looked again. " May I take off the lid ?" I asked. " And turn over everything there is inside, if you like," she answered. " Where on earth did you get it ?" I •said.

"A'lady that- is dead gave it to me," Bhe explained, going on looking for her buttons.: "It is more curious than pretty, I think ; but I have kept it for her sake. Poor Mrs Mason,! •she did -suffer."

" Her words gave me Buch a turn, I could not see for a minute. Lamp, table, box, everything seemed to go round and round ; 'but at last my head steadied, and there was Alice still hunting for buttons. " I asked her to tell me all about Mrs Mason. I said I once lived with a lady of that name j and ahe told me all quite straight. How she was living in London at the time with a Miss Gresham, who let out apartments, and Mrs Mason and her -mother came up from somewhere in the country, so as to be near medical advice.

" They were going abroad as soon as the younger lady got well enough to travel; •But, Lor,' Baid Alice, 'she soon went a far longer journey. When the doctor came, he said she was in a. galloping consumption ; and sure enough it was all over within a couple of months. The poor mother did take on dreadful; it might have touched a heart of stone to see ber. i heard her say one day to her daughter, * I don't know, Emily, what will become [of me when -yon are gone. ' And Mrs Mason answered quite indifferent like ; but then Bhe we* so bad and ill that-no doubt she did not care much abont anything. 'It is unfortunate certainly, mamma, ■ but it is not my fault." ' There was no Bhortnesa of money, but they seemed friendless and all alone in the world. Not a boul came te see j them, and not a creature * followed' 5 but the mother. *'

"Humph!" said Mr Ramsden dryly. " Do you happen to remember, Sriart, where thia Mias Greaha~i lived ? "

" I took it all down, Bir, as I got it from Alice— leastwaya I wrote it in a book when I got to my own room. The name of the atreet and the number, the addreta of the dootor — everything you will find set down here, air ; " and Mrs Calcey handed him an old diary bound in red morocco, which had boen given to her yeara and years previously. " You havo no idea, I suppose," asked Mr Ramsden, as ho took tho book from her, " who this lady is that you suppose cannot be Miss Emily, otherwise Mrs Mason ? "

"Yes, sir, I have," waa tho unexpected reply ; " and that came about in a most curious way, to*. A mato of my poor, dear husband's was !;crn and roared in that part of the country where all the Wilkinses be*

longed. He used to lodge with us, aad many a time has talked about Mra Wilkins and her mean ways, and Miss Emily, af erwards Mrs Mason. He remembered ber "from c. ohild.

" Well, after I came to London to Mr Montrelle'a, 'l saw him two or threo times at -ay couian's, and once he ohanoed *to say ho had been working on the Kne near Purling-; end at church there he had seen -my former miatreaa, Mrs Wilkina.

"And Mrs Mason too, 1 suppose?" : 1 said.

" No," he answered ; ~ she was not there, but her oousin waß— <'>l& Met Wilkins* daughter:: she would mako two of Miss Emily, and has i he loveliest head df hair you ever looked at.""

M I aske-affw questions, and -found oat all he could toll me ; and that da all, air, I think."

" Very good,'" commented Mr Bamsden:; and now turning to Mt Mason, be added,' "'I suppose you will leave the matter with me." "Heaven knows I do not desire to have any say in it," answered the young man; then, turning to M-a Calcey, 'he added, "You will not mention the affair to anyone without my permission. Is lien." " No, air. I never have eaid a word about it except to my mother ; and I Bhould not have spoken now, only that I could not rest with the weight of it on my mind."

(To be continued.)