CHAPTER V—FLORENCE.

Waikato Times, Issue 201, 23 August 1873, Page 2

CHAPTER V — FLORENCE.

Whey Mr Martin advised Walter Cltnt to ndopt the study of inediome, he- did so without any conviotiou that a futur© medioal benefactor to lm species wu* lyiiv,' perdu under the good-looking exterior of ln-< unmanageable patent's mutinous. f>\\ Tli.it. Walter would be better behaved anywhere than ah iionic, Mr -Martin was quite justified in beliewng, for ho li.i 1 hid op;)ovtuuities of observing tli« lad, and had seen that he was hurdly to be recognised when removed from thegrinding restraint of his father's presence ; and it was quite evident ho must have something to do. Mr Clint would assuredly not gne lain a roving commission, with money enough to make it pleasant. But hia experienced friend did not expect Walter to ' make much of ' his med.cal t-tudies, and he by no means outran that modest expectation. Walt( r was not exactly idle during the ensuing year, but his occupations were not strictly eonduciiiv to- his future welfare. Tho house in which Wulter Clint lodged was a dull, grimly genteel, thin house, m n» old fashioned crescent in the Blroms - bury district. It had i\ 1. r^e street door, surmounted by n du^ty semicircle of giass, .uid decorated with a plaster cast of .v horse of the rainpmit order ; and a floor-clothed hall, dingy and dull, but at least possessing the advantage of space. The rooms were numerous, and not ill-furnished ; but every article in. them was old-fashioued, and though well prweripd up to a. certain point, had evidently begun to yield to time, ami Ibe lack of housemaid's tendance. Walter occupied tw<> rooms on the ground-floor, which bad been the diningroom and study, but that was in the time of Mrs Keeve's pr'-e'eces-vor, a lawyer in good practice-, and of convivial bobits ; they were pailour und bedroom now. Walter had been lodging in the dull house in the dull crescent for son.c three or four weeks before he became uwaro that tho proprietress of the mansion lived in it. He had speedily perceived that the domestic staff was insufficient in. numbers — it consisted of one nmid-sevvant and a boy, and everything which could possibly be omitted was left undone; but be had never expected much comfort in a London lodginghouse, and if he lmjd less than he expected, he was of a temprroment to make light of the disappointment. That the drawing-rooms were let to two elderly lnwden ladies, who. enjoyed the luxury of a servant of tbeir own, Walter was aware — indeed, the proximity of his bedroom to the kite-hen stairs enabled him to hear all the quarrels and most olSj^o confidences between Mrs Reeve's Martha and the Misses. Bay'B Mary Jane — but he had no notion how the ucmaining rooms were distributed and occupied. He was not much at home. The acquaintances be made through Mr Martin's introductions were speedily supplemented by others, mndo by himself; and Walter was soon in the easily descending groove of a medical student's life m London, with the added temptation and danger, that lie did not know, for certain,, whether he should ever be forced to earn a guinea for himself, on pain of going without it. Among these acquaintances there were some far from desirable, and Walter was ' easily led,' as the phrase has it, which thus ingeniously palliates that fatal defect, weakness of character. It would be neither profitable nor pleasant to follow the exact course oi his experiences of London and student l»fe ; for though he did not plunge into the [grosser forms of vice, they *ere of a kind to foster his faults, and leave his good qualities dormant. His entire separation from his sister was highly injurious to Walter. The decree which effected' this was pronounced by 51 r Clint, alter Walter had been one year m London, and when ho had further embittered^his father against him by considerably exceeding his allowance, and making application for money in a free-and-easy style, which Mr Clint, clinging to his faTorite theory, that his son had no rights, and all he chose to do for him was of Ins own free grace, resented as a double injury — to his theory, and his packet. This was terribly unjust, for it inflicted misery upon Miriam, who had not deserved it, and whose strongest feeling was affection for her brother, and it diminished the motive which actuated them both to endeavor to keep on decent terms with their father. But Mr Clint wa« not to. be influenced by any such considerations. When Walter had 1 been tomo little time in London, and, when, if there had been any cne interested m him to notice it, that some one would have perceived a consideiable decline in ' steadiness' on his part, an occurrence took place which,, though trifling in itself, v> as destined to e\ert a grave influenceon his future life. He was dawdling, one fine spring morning,, over a late breakfast in a sullen and discontented mood, when a cab stopped at the house door, a lady stepped out and rang the bell, when a cabman, insolent-looking beyond the ordmnry appearance of his tribe, handed down a box of by no meana. imposing dimensions, flung it oh the pavement, and apos--trophised the ' fare' in a loud tont and excedwgly bad language, which Walter heard distinctly through the open window. In a moment he had forestalled tho servant, opened the door, and confronted the cabmnn, who moderated histone with surprising celenty. It was the usual case — a- lady, alone, and to all appetrarcc not rich. Ot course, a London cabman must OAcrchuige and bully her. 1 Pray, go into the house,' said Walter to the lady, ' nnriV I will settle this matter.' He did so, by the comforting assurance to the cabman, tha,t he should be preitptly servedj with a summons, and made to pay for the luxury of insulting a lady ; and then took up the box and carried it into the hall, where he found the ' fare,' who had by this time been* joined by the «enant 'Thank you, very much," said the Indy, who was very young and exceedingly pretty, and whose tearful blue eyes and flushed cheeks inspired Walter with mingled emotions,, admiration (and anger. 'I am sorry to have given you so. much trouble.' ' Not the least trouble,' said Walter. 'lam so glad I was in the wa\ —I seldom am at this time of day. That insolent brute had time to frighten jou as it was, I am afraid.' ' I was startled. It is the first timo I hare travelled alone in England.' ' Ah ! ' said Walter significantly. ' Lad ies are better looked after abroad, even when they have not their own maids and footmen. Now, where shall I put this box for you?' 'Thank you; pray, don't mind it. The boy w ill take it up-stairs presently.' ' Up-stairs !' thought Walter. 'Is she going to stay here 5 Can this blue-eyed creature have come ou <v visit to the old maids in tho drawing-rooms? Are they going to treat her to Exeter Hall and oratorios ?' It was impossible to ask her any questions — impossible ta do anything but bow, and retire to the shelter of his own. parlour, whence he watched hei», through a good-sized chink in the hinges of the door, as sho went up the wide stair. 'What a pretty girl !* Walter 'thought, as he walked up and down his sitting room with his hands m his pockets ; and ix little hdy too. Who is she, I wonder?' Presently he heard the voice of Mrs I'ee\e's Mnitlia directing the buy to carry 'Miss Florence's' box up-stans ' to the dressingroom.' The youth begau to drag his burden up the staircase, inu'etinu; much damage on the already dingy and ancient carpet in the process ; and Walter called Martha into the parlour, on the pretext of wanting to have his breakfast things removed. It was not very difficult to extract information from Martha : she was endowed w ith a powerful capacity for gossip ; and m the course of a few minutes, Walter was placed in possession of all she knew concerning her misVKSS and her affairs, and of a good deal which she only guessed. The story was an ordinary one Mrs Keeve was the widow ot a clergyman, who had not been ' preferred 1 to any kind of distinction, and who had died, after many years of unrecognised hard work in London, lea; mg her with an only child, and a very small annuity, to purchase which he had made severe sacrifices. Some time after his death, Mrs Keeve took the dull house in the dull crescent to which fate had sent Walter, by the advice of some distant relatives, who promised to becure a respectablo connection for her, and who did so for some time, during which she received only ladies as lodgera. But the connection had dropped off as tho neighbourhood became more and more unfashionable, and sometimes the room stood empty for an alarmingly long period. Then Mrs Eeeve relented, und let to very-well-recommended young gentlemen, of which privileged number Walter was one. Mrj Eeeve's only child was growing up during the earlier, comparat i\ ely prosperous period, and receiving from her delicate, highly cultivated mother a thoroughly sound and \iseful education. Florence was pretty, clever, and good, with an affectionate, yielding disposition, and her mother loved her with exceeding love and pride For her child she was ambitious, as she had never been for herself; for her ohild she was discontented, though for herself she had borne ill-fortune with smiling readiness. Florenco had a stronger will than her mother, and when she saw that something more than they were doing must be dono to keep them out of debt, in which there evidently must be ruin, she made up her mind what that something was, and made arrangements for doing it. Florence Beeves eighteenth birthday found her settled as. resident governess in the family of » clergyman, formerly a fmndof her futher, but to whom 'life had been dialt in n not her measure,' where she was lindly ticntcd, and whither her mother was occasionally imiJcd to pass a few dtt,)s with her, when Bhe could get uwaj fiom her house and itt fluctuating, but always exneting inmates. For one year this ariangeinent worked well, but then Mrs Beeves health began to fail, and she concealed the fact from Florence. Disorder and mismanagement in the house ensued, and the umfortunc which above all Florence had dreaded befell the widow — she got into debt. The word has such vauous significations ! It has quite a splendid sound in the case of the hereditary possessors of largo properties, in which it merely signifies vice, selfishness, hideous unscrupuloutiuss, and tho ignoring of every duty and obligation, in virtue of wboie strict fu fitment only sociity ought to tolerate tho tremendous inequality between these people's lives and those of their fellow-men. It is dashing when it means fortune and reputation squandered by titled fooli ; or by women without one feminine virtue or intellectual attribute, in tho Dumnt of sickening sensual tv, and vaj il, vulgar folly ; but it ha» neither splendour noi da.->b about it in the more pro-

■ale cases of poor, struggling people, who are merely honest and unfortunate — people who fed debt an ever-present burden, and an urgent disgrace. Sirs Reeve was one of these. She did Jut best ; she snved and spared, she overtaxed her strength, and imicciiled her anxieties and her illness from Florence, until ihe broke down completely, and was forced to send ior her daughter, from sheer inability to attend to the house any longer. Walter had imver spoken to Mm Eeeve ; he was r nvl> in hie rooms in the evening*, and had been less tlmn ever in them of lnte. Ho had known nothing more of her tlinn that she existed, and live.l upstairs, somewhere above tlie d/iwiuc-ro^ms, n id that sho had only written Jam a timid and dopiecitory note. >n which she entreated him not to smoke in the parlour nit a the door open, because the ladies in the parlour objected to the smell of tobacco, especially m the (arm of cigars. Walter was a good-natured, easygoing young young fellow, not in the least brutal, and -o ho did not curse the ladies in the drawing-room, md Mrs Reeve's impudence, for imagining he was going to consult the convenience of a parcel of women, but returned a polite answer and attended to the request Tlnslittlo cirtfiimM-anPP hft'l inspired Mrs Reeve with a favoiable opinion of her lodger in t lie ' parlor ;' and he had won n place in Martha's good graces also by his goodhumoured readiness to put up with her deficiencies, and his considerate eharmes* about ringing his bell She was quite re-uiv to tnlk to him nbout ' Missus' und Miss Florence, and frankly expresse I her opinion that Mrs lleeve was in a very ► bad wav, and Miss Florence had not coino home too soon. Martha concluded by declaring u total want of confidence in doctors, though, she remarked, she ought not to say that to Mr Olmt. Walter assured her she was not insulting the learned faculty in his person, as he was not a doctor yet. Presently he went out, feeling a good deal of curiosity about ' Miss Florence,' wondering when he should sec her again (soon, lie thought, considering they were living under the same roof), and whether she would bow or speak to him when they met. llh curio-itv and his doubts were speedily satisfied. During tiie whole of (ho next day, he did nofc see the blue ejed stranger, though he went out Inter and came in earlier, with a vague hope, which he did not acknowledge to himself, of doin<» bo ]3ut he inquired of Martha how Mrs Reeve was, and whether her daughter was alarmed about her. He learned that the doctor, in whom Martha declined to believe, had ecen his patient, and pronounced her very weak ; and that Martha's coimction was, he knew nothing a.bo'M it. ' Uer illness is perry— something— l don't rightly knJP the word,' continued Martha, 'he sajs ; but I don't tjjm*. much of that. It's worry as really ails her ; and, ah ! "tUbr me, what a many people die of worry, which the doctors calls it long names!" It was past midnight when Walter let himself in with his key, and was surprised to find the gaslight in the hall still burning, and to hear sounds of moving about up-stairs. ' The old ladies have broken out, I suppose,' he thought — ' turned convivial ;' and he went toward the head of the kitchen stair* to inquire whether, under these uuusual circumstances, he was to put the chain up, but was arrested by a swift footstep fleeting down the stairs, and a voice calling to him : •Mr Clint ! Mr Clint " The step and the voice belonged to Florence Reeve, who iustantlv informed him that her mother had been suddenly seized with alarming symptoms half an hour before— that Martha hnd been sent to fetch the doctor ; in the meantime, Mra Reevo had become apparently insensible, and she and the Misses Ray hud been vainly endeavouring to restore her —that Maitha" had told her Mr Clint was a doctor; and she begged 'him to come with her to her mother's room. Before she had s-ud half this, they were going up stairs aide by side, and Walter had noticed that though her face was white with fear, Florence Reeve was quite self-possessed. There was no childish terror in her manner ; she shed no tears ; and when they reached her mother's room, sho obeyed his directions with quiet promptitude. Plie room w as large but scantily furnished, and comfortless. An old-fashioned four-post bedstead, upon which Mn Reeve lay, fated the windows. Her wan faco and pinched features looked glusth in the light of the candle-, 'ihe Misses Ray were standing at the, foot of the bed, looking on helplessly ; and when Florence and Walter entered tho room, they promptly retired, under the impression that ihe doctor had arrived. Thus, the young man and tho girl found themselves alone, in the dead of the night, in the presence of what" Sleep 9 Insensibility? No; Walter knew it at once ; he wus not deceived, though he gave prompt instructions which he knew must be unavailing, m order to gam time until the doctor and the servnnt should bo on the ppot Tliev were in the presence of death! Suddenly, quit-Mr, unsuspected, the summons had come to tho citadel, and the surrender had been instant. For a few minutes Florence was deceived; but, as she bathed her mother's forehead with vinegar, something in the wnj tho head turned under her hand gave her :i sickening sensation of fear. The sponge dropped from her hand, she stood upright, her horrified eyes turned upon Waller. ' Good God !' she whispered, ' can she be dead ?' He took her hand, ami placed her gently in a chair ; sho let him move her, she felt hclploss and weak as an infant. • Try to b«u- it,' ho s»id very gently •■ ' I fear she is ' When Martha came back with the doctor, she found Florence sitting by her mother's death-bed, stupefied, her hancU clasped before lic-r oyo, and Walter kneeling »ilently at her side.