Novelist.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2098, 29 July 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Novelist.

HAWKSNEST. A Love Story.

By Atha.

{Con *drd') CHAPTER 111. A month went by, and Tom Wildclove and his friend were fully settled at Eldonbury. The former had decided to live with his sister in the pretty retreat, and Harry, as a thing he insisted u|>on after the first few days, took up his abode at the Pier Hotel, beyond the Domain. “ There is no knowing how long I may stay in New Zealand,’ he said. ‘ I have been s restless Bohemian all my days, and therefore may find it difficult to settle down in a humdrum sort of existence."

•• Why not purchase a place here, and make it your home," suggested Miss Portia Wildelove, ‘‘by your own showing your Boheiuianism in the past has not been roulmr </<■ roar.’’

"Pooh, Madam, Mr. Maydale's enterprising spirit could never brook such a dull life as ours," responded Oscar Bent, with a supercilious air.

They were all in tha garden together, enjoying the cool of the ttctober evening; Myra and her father side by side, she with her arm lucked through his, her face radiant with happiness. Harry Maydale turned his dreamy eyes upon * >scar as that gentleman made this unnecessary remark. " I don't think you know me sufficiently to warrant your saying such a thing Mr. Bent,'' he said, with just a shade of contempt in his tone. “ 1 know the old adage about the rolling stone, but that is not applicable in my case."

‘‘Well, a man cannot serve two masters," responded Oscar ; “ you cannot make a good citizen out of a wanderer." “ I beg to differ with you. it is your pilgrim—weary and worn with travel, who can beat appreciate a home ; what do you say Myra Y' Harry had somehow glided into the habit of appealing to her in small matters of conversation, but that was not the worst of it. His calling hjr Myra without the prefix of Miss, was an impertinence which made Oscar Bent pale with suppressed anger.

Tom Wildelove, < whose eyes had been fixed upon Oscar with a watchful interest, now filled his pipe and proposed a stroll.

“ We might go as far as the summit of the cliff,” he suggested, “ it is many years since I was at the lover's seat.'

* “Oh, yes. very uany years, brother,” added the old maid. '' The s(K>t seems to me like the brook in some things—lovers come and lovers go. but the seat keeps there for ever.”

*• Bravo, Portia,’’ cried the sturdy old fellow with a laugh, '‘you have improved upon the oid tong.’’ They went up to the top of the jagged rock, Harry keeping by Myra's side, Oscar sulkily following, in company with the old dame and her brother. The evening was well auited for such a ramble, for, as (he daylight had died out of the sky, the full moon lent a soft sheen in lieu of it, so that it SSeHied twilight still to the little party. Tom Wildelove and ((scar lay on the turf, and Myra and Harry sat upon (he lovers’ scat. None of them seemed inclined to talk save the spinster, who pacing to and fro, like a sentinel on some night watch tour, treated them to a lecture on the advantages and disadvantages of the falling di w After that, it luca i e <|Uite a i(Uakers meeting with them. Now and then a few sparks of chat were struck, but thinking wsa moat in favor. 1 1 was only when they began the return journey homeward that their tongues were loosened.

“I like that lover's seat,” said Harry, with a suddenness that surprised everybody ; “ it is the prettiest spot on earth ; the view is magnificent

“ Not ao wild and grand as some places «• have visited," said Tom Wildelove.

“No, bat richer, more mellow, if 1 ■ay use the term," replied Harry, “ I was never in a place I liked so well; the little good there is in me was surely uppermost as I sat there to night.” “And I felt happy too," said Myra, I hope oar joy is to last.” “Why should it not ?” asked Harry aaceriy.

“I don't know!’’ Myra replied, " except ■ Saar* told no joy in (his life is lasting." ** If tie do not mar our joy. others do it far os." ((scar interposed. They did nut answer him. and he said

do more. The othen talked gaily all the way home. Harry Maydale took a great fancy to that seat on the cliff; he was often up there, but when alone, the place seemed to have lost all its charms. Searching for a cause, the young adventurer soon discovered that Myra’s presence was necessary to make his joy complete, and so it dawned upon him that he had given up his heart, unsolicited to Myra, and henceforth he could not hope to live happily without her.

It was a great discovery, a tremendous revelation, and it appalled him, for he felt that the neice of proud Miss Wildelove was as high—both socially and personally —above him as the heavens are above the earth.

His first impulse was to start away at once for some out of way corner of the world. He even set himself to scan the different shipping columns of the newspapers, and when he had decided on the voyage, he changed his mind as'suddenly as he had previously resolved. “Why should I run away?” he said, “ That is not the act of a man; it would only be leaving her open to the worrying of this mandlin jack-a-napes Bent, who seems as watchful and as morbid as one of his Maori ancestors.

The rivalry between these two men became more noticeable every day. Instinctively, Harry felt that Oscar hated him, and had the latter possessed no more control over himself than the former, there M ould have been war to the knife.

Although Oscar vas jealous and angry at the pleasure Myra took in the society of his rival, yet he felt pretty sure of her. He inherited abundant vanity from his mother, as well as beauty of person, and he called to mind the many happy years they had spent almost together, not to feel certain that Myra loved him. He blamed himself for not having put the question to her before the arrival of her father and his friend, but he resolved to do so the first opportunity which presented itself; in the meantime he became more attentive to Myra—just in opposition to his rival, who became more reserved and shy in the presence of Tom Wildelove’s daughter. The spinster did not notice the change in the manner of her young guests, but her brother did ; he knew something of men and the world, and ho interpreted the emotions oftheone,ashesawclearlythe object of the other ; he did not interfere, however.

“Opposition” he said, “would be fatal. Myra is a woman, and if I say what I can discern to be the truth about this Oscar Bent, she will straightway fall in love with him."

Perhaps the old man was right; but was Myra really and truly in love with her old playmate ? We shall see ! Oscar Bent bad not long to wait for the occasion to plead his case. On a certain day, Mr. Wildelove and Harry went out for a day’s deep-sea fishing, Myra was to have accompanied them, but at the last moment, her aunt was attacked with a severe headache, so the girl remained at home.

That same afternoon, when the brunt of the old lady’s' attack had passed away and she had fallen asleep, Myra went out into the garden with her needle-work. In one quiet comer there was an ivy-colored bower, a favourite lounging place, and thither she vent. Five minutes afterwards, Oscar Bent joined her. She was not particularly surprised or pleased to see him, but accepted his coming as a matter of course. He was rather pale, and she asked him if he was unwell. “1 have no bodily ailment!" he said, “ but I am not happy." She looked at him in astonishment now, and saw his gaze fixed upon her with an expreasion she had never seen before. She shrank from it, though, with an idea of its meaning dawning on he. “ Not happy !’’ she repeated.

No!’’ he responded, drawing closer to her; “Myra, dear Myra, I want to ask you to recall something to your mind. Do you remember that day when you and I sat upon tho lovers’ seat, watching the. smoke of the steamer that brought your father home f’

“Assuredly I do Oscar! it is but a very short time ago.” “ Can you recall anything I said that

day V “ I daresay I could ; we talked of many things!"

•• But I want you to recall something very particular.” Myra I>ent down her head thoughtfully, and briefly meditated on the subject, but nothing came of it. “• I am sorry, Oscar,'' she said, “ I cannot recall anything particular. It is very unkind of me no doubt, but you must remember what an exciting day it was." “ True, Myra! well, I will recall the subject. I asked if you would be sorry if I went away from New Zealand ?” “ Oh! I remember that. Oscar ! but you were jesting,” she answered, smiling. “ Perhaps; but Myra, can you not guess the object of tire question Again Myra reflected, but reflection did not aid her at all. He was getting angry now, for he felt he had already got his answer ; nevertheless he stemmed the torrent of his wrath, and pressed his suit. “ Myra,” he said, “ I am going to say to day what I ought to have said then. We have been school-fellows, have grown up woman and man together, and you have so become part and parcel of myself, that I '*

“ ((scar, you must pardon me, but I think I hear my aunt's voice.” she cried hurriedly. “ Nay, you cannot go until you have heard he answered, barring the way. “ No, no, you had better not speak," she said, in a tone of distress, “lam not sure 1 understand, but if I do I should be very sorry to ”

“Sony, Myra! would you bo sorry to learn that I love you ?”

“ No, not with the old love I” “ What old love ? Mine has been the same Ihroughout all these years !" “ I mean brotherly love, Oscar.” His great black eyes flashed out at her. “ Myra, mine is not a brotherly love, it is something deeper, better than that!” “ No! no ! (.(scar !’’

*’ But I say, yes! yes!’’ he cried vehemently, “it is the love that binds men and women together for time, and as some believe, through eternity. I ask you, Myra, to be my wife

She covered her face with hands for a moment, without replying; then she looked up at him, and the tears were in her eyes.

“ 1 have never thought of you in that way, Oscar, nor ever could I” she said ; “ my love for you has been sisterly from the first, and will over remain so ; the discovery 1 have made has inexpressibly

pined me. I wish from my heart you had not uttered what you have !” “Perhaps if I had spoken two months ago, it would have been different!'' His voice was hard and cold now ; all the Maori in him was uppermost. “ What has two months ago to do with it, Oscar ? It would have been the same then as it is now!” “ I do not believe it 1” “Osc Mr. Bent!” “ I repeat I do not believe it,® ho cried, stamping his foot. It was a deliberate insult to her, and she drew herself proudly up, and signed for him to stand out of her path. “ I cannot talk further with you now,” she said.

“ Myra Miss Wildelove, hear me 1” “ No more, sir.” “ You are offended ?” “ It is a direct insult to doubt the truth of what T say. If you are a gentleman you will stand aside!” “ One moment. If Harry Maydale had not come, then ”

He stopped short, for the hitherto meek and gentle Myra, became suddenly transformed into an outraged woman. “ How dare you ?” she cried, her blue eyes ablaze with scorn. “By what right do you pretend to read the secret of my heart ?”

“You love this uncouth, ignorant Bohemian!” sneered Oscar.

“I do not deny that I love a manly, noble fellow, who is utterly incapable of playing the part of a bully !" she answered, with withering contempt; are you satisfied now ?" And then he let her go.