LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5580, 30 March 1886, Page 1

LITERATURE.

WITNESSED BY TWO? • (The English Illustrated M9i**>.M.) " But to-morrow— to-morrow you will "keep for me. I may expect you at the •nsual timo," said young Mra Medway to her old friend Major Graham, aa she shook bands with him. "To-morrow! Certainly. I have kept It for you, Anno. I alwavß said I should/ he answered. There was v slight touch of reproach in his tone. She lifted her eyes for half a second U -.kis face ac if she would have said more. But after all, it was only the words " Goodbye, then, till to-morrow," that were Tittered, quietly and almost coldly, as Hajor Graham left the room. "I oan'fc quite make Anne out eontetimea," he said to himself. " She is sorely -very cold. And yet I know she haa real Affection for mo — sisterly affection, I suppose. Ah, woll ! so much the better. Bat itill, just when a fellow's off for Heave* knows how long, and — and — altogether itdoes seem a, little overstrained. She can't but know what might have come to pass had we not been separated for so long — or had I been richer ; and I don't think she could have been exactly in love with Medway, though by all accounts he was a , very decent fellow. She is so inconsistent, { too— Bhe seemed really disappointed when ! I said I couldn't stay to-day. But I'm a fool to think so much about her. lamas j poor as ever, and she is rich. A fatal barrier ! • It's a good thing that she is cold and that I havo plenty of other matters t» think about." And thus congratulating himself ho diauiissed, or believed that he dismissed, for the time boing nil thought of Anne Medway from his mind. It was true that he had plenty of other things to occupy it with, for the day after to-morrow was t* see bis departure from England for an ndefinite period. ' Mra Medway meantime sat sadly and silently in the library where Major Graham had left her. Her Bweet gray eyea were fixed on the fire burning brightly and cheerful in the waning afternoon light — but she Baw nothing about her. Her thoughts were busily travelling along a joad which had grown very familiar to them of late — she was recalling all her past intercourse with Kenneth Graham since the time when, as boy and girl, they had scarcely remembered that they were not " real" broLher and Bister 1 all through the pleasant years of frequent meeting and unconstrained companionship to the melancholy day when Kenneth was ordered t* India and they bade each other a long farewell. That was ten years ago now, and they had not met again till last spring, when Major Graham returned to find hia old playfellow a widow, young, rich, and lovely, bub lonely in a sense — save that sho had two children — for • she was witkoub near relations and was not the typ« of woman to make quick or numerous friendships. The renewal of the old relations had been very pleasant— only too pleasant, Anne had of lake begun to think. For tb.9 aews of Kenneth's having decided to go abroad again had made her realise all He had become to her, and the discovery brought with it sharp misgiving and evea humiliation. " He does not care for me — not as I do for him," she was saying to herself as she sat by the fire. "There would have beea no necessity for his leaving England again had he done bo. It cannot be that I ana rich and he poor, suroly ? He is aofc the sorb of man to let such a mere accident aa that stand in the way if he really cared for me. No, it is that ho does not care for no except as a sort of sister. But still — he said he had kept his last evening for me — at least ho cares for no one else more, and that is something. Who knows— perhaps to-morrow — when it oomos to roally saying good-bye! "and a faint, flush of renewed hopo rose to her cheeks nad a brighter gleam to her eycß. The door opened, and a gray-hairod tnim «ervant came in gently. "I beg your pardon, ma'am,' he aaid, apologetically ; " I wob not sure if Major Graham had gone. Will he be hero to dinnor, if yon pleaee P " "Not to-night, Ambrose. I shall be «iuite alone. But Major Gf ahatu irill din* hero to-morrow — ho does not leave till Thursday morning." "Very well, ma'am," said Ambrose, aa he discreetly retired. Ho had been many years in the Medway household. He had respeoted hia late master, but for his young mistress he k&d actual affection, and leing of a somewhat sentimental turn, he bod constructed for her benefit a very pretty little romance of which Major Graham was the hero. It had been a real blow to poor Ambrose to learn that the gentleman in question was on the eve of his departure without any aiga of a satisfactory third volume, and he wan rather surprised to see that Mrs Medway aeoined this evoning in better spirite than for some time past. " It's maybe understood befcweoa themselves," he reflected, as he made his way back to hi 3 own quarters. "I am core I hopo so, (or he's a real gentleman and she's as sweet a lady &s ever stepped, which I aiiould know if any ono shoald— having; seen her patient with poor master, as was really called for Lhrough his long illness. Site deserves a happy ending, and I'm sure I hope she may have it, poor lady." " To-morrow, at the usual time," meaning Gve o'clock or thereabout, brought Kenneth bis last visit. Anne had bqeu expecting im with an anxiety eke wad almost ashamed to own to herself, yet het manner was so oalm and colloatea tart c<> one could have guessed the tumult ot hope and tear, of wild grief at his leaving, of intense longing for any word — were it bafc a word — to prove that all was not on h?r side only. " I could boar his beinfjaway — for yeara, even, if he thought it must be — if I could but look forward — if I had the right fco look forward to hia return," sho said to herself. But the evoning passed on tranquilly., without a word or look more than might hare been between real brother and sister. Kenneth talked kindly— tenderly eveu— of the past; repeated more than once the pleißure it had been to him to find again his old friend so little changed, s« completely his old friend still. The boytt cftuia in to Bay good-night, and "Good-byj, al.is! my lnds," added their taU friend witk a sigh. Don't forget me quite, Hal and Charlie, and don't letyoar mother forgot vie flither, oh P " To which the, little fellows replied solemnly, though hardly nnuVrstaniling why ho patted their curly headti with lingering hand this evening, or ■nhy mamma looked grave at hia worda And Anne bore it all without flinching, and smiled and talked iv little more than usual perhaps, though all the time 'aar heurt was bursting, and Kenneth womfcred more than evor if, after all, hli& had '* tuw.n heart or feeling to epoak of." " You will be bringing bark a wife wtU you perhaps," she fiala once. " Shall you tell her ftboct yaar eister. A^aae, Kenneth?" Major Graham looked at her eam?6fclf for half an instant before he replied, but Aune's eyes were not turned toward him and she did not see tho look. And hie words almost belied it. "Certainly, I shall tell her of you/ a.» -said, " that ia to cay, t£ ehe over comes to •ixist. At present few things are less pio~ h:i\Aa. Still, I am old enjugh now ns<r>?r to say, ' Fontaine, je 9,6 boiraA janutit dt ion -«".' But," he went on, •*" JC may return to find you married again, Anno. You sw still so young, and you are rather lonely.'" " No," said Anne, with, a sudden, fierceno** which he had never seen in her befocv, V I ahall never mar^y igain— neve*," *ci

. ske looked him full in tha face with a I strange sparkle h? her eyes which almost i frightened him. i " I beg jour pardon/ he Baid meekly. j And though the momentary excitement 1 Caded as quickly as it had come, and Anne, murmuring some half intelligible excuse, waß again hey quiet self, tliia momentary glimpao of a fiery nature beneath gave , him food for reflection. t " Can Medway have not been what he seemed on the Bnrface after all?" he thought to himself. " What can make her , ao Tindictive against matrimony P " I Bat it was growing late and Kenneth had still some last preparations to make. He roee slowly and reluctantly from his «kair. " I must be going, I fear," he said. Anne, too, had risen. They stood together on the hearthrug. A slight, very slight, shiver passed through her. Kenneth pereeired it. " You have caught cold, I fear," he Baid kindly. For the room waa warm and the , fire was burning brightly. - "Hfo, I don't think so," she said, indif- : ferently. | " You will write to me now and then ? " he said next. j " Oh, certainly— not very often perhaps," abe replied lightly, "but now and then. , Stay," and she turned away toward her . writing table, "tell me exactly how to ad- ; dreßß you. Your name— is your surname ' enough t — there is no other Graham in , jvax regiment P " I "IS*," he said abaently, " I suppose not. I Yea, jußt my name and the regiment and I AUagherry, which will be our headquarters. Y«a might, if you were very amiable — yo« might write to Galles— a letter overload would wait for me there," for it waa th« day* of "long sea " for all troops to ladi*. Anne returned to her former position on the hearthrug— the moment at the table had restored her courage. "We shall see," she said, smiling again. Then Kenneth Baid once more, " I must go ; " but he lingered still a moment. "You must have caught cold, Anne, or «lac you oro very tired. You are so white," and from his height above her, though ! Anne herself was tall, he laid his hand on her shoulder gently and as a brother might have done and looked down at her pale face half inquiringly. A flush of colour roee for an instant to her cheeks. The tempkatioa was strong upon her to throw ♦ff that calmly caressing hand, bat she resisted it and looked up bravely with' a light almost of defiance in her eyes. " I ant perfectly well, I assure you. But perhaps lam a little tired. I suppose it is getting late." And Kenneth stifled a sigh, of scarcely realised disappointment, and quickly drew back his hand. " Yea, it is late. lam very thoughtless. Goad-bye, then, Anne. God bless you." Aad before she had time to answer he was gone. Ambrose met him in the hall, with wellmeaning offlciousneoß bringing forward his ooat aad hat. His presence helped to dissipate an impulse which seized Major Graham to rush up stairs again for one other word of farewell. Had he done so wkat w«uld he have found ? Anne sobbing — with, the terrible intensity of a Belfoontaiaed nature once the strain is withdrawn — sobbing in the bitterness of her grief and the cruelty of her mortification ; with but one consolation. "At least he does not despise me. I hid it well," Bhe whispered to herself. And Kenneth Graham, as he drove away itt hia cab, repeated to himself, " She ia so cold, this evening particularly. And yet, oan it be that it was to hide any other feeling t If I thought so — good God ! " and he half started up as if to call to the driTer, but sat down again. " No, no, I must not be a fool. I could not stand a repulse from her—- 1 could never Bee her again. Better not risk it. And thea lam 99 poor ! " And in the bustle and hurry of his de parka re ho tried to forget the wild fancy which for a moment had disturbed him. He sailed the next day. (To be continued.)