CHAPTER VII.—LAWRENCE DALY.

Waikato Times, Volume IV, Issue 203, 28 August 1873, Page 2

CHAPTER VII.— LAWRENCE DALY.

A tew days after that serious revision of their affairs had been held by the young couple, Walter brought his friend Lawrence Daly to see Florence, and pass a quiet evening at the little cottage in George Lane. Florence had been rather down -hearted all day, as she hod come to the conclusion, in sober earnest, that something must indeed be done. Her wardrobe was reduced to a very insHifi.cient quantity ; Walter was ' hardly fit to be seen;' and sundry small debts were accumulating, until the whole threatened to become a large debt. What shonld she do ? They could not afford to live in any but a cheap place, and very cheap' places did not produce pupils requiring to be taught French, Italian, music, and 'the elements' of drawing. Supposing she could make up her mind to the dreadful sacrifice of separation from Walter, people would not take a young married woman as a governess ; and, if even they would, she felt that she was no longer sufficiently strong to endure the stated hours, the formal walks, and the constant presence of noisy, self-en-grossod children. Florence had been crying a good deal, while bhe looked over her little stock of baby-clothes, and put them away ; but her tears w ero not called forth by sorrowful remembrance of the hopes which had not been realised, but by the reflection that it would bo so much better for her never again to hove any such hopes ; it seemed so sad and dreary that she onght not. to wish ior children. ' Poor little creatures! what would become of them ?' thought Florence, ns she turned the, koy in a drawer in which she had placed the little shirts and frocks away at the back, well out of sight, and began to cogitate , again on that impracticable theme, What was she to do ? Florence could see a little way up the pretty lane beside which their cottage stood, and which was turned into an arcade-by the rich foVage of the overreaching trees, in the beautiful luxuriant summer-time. She dried her eyes, smoothed her paetty fair hair, added a ribbon to her ordinary dress in honor of the festiTe nature of tho occasion, and seated herself at the window which commanded a few hundred yards of the lone. Her watch was not much prolonged ; she soon saw Walter coming along, carrying his hat in his hand, and running his fingers through his curly hair, as he talked, with much animation, to his companion. In amoment, Florence was itanding at tho little gate, and Lawrence Daly was making up his mind, that if a very pretty face, with a sweet innocent expression', and tho kindliest blac eyes in tho world, could excuse Walter for such an imprudence as his marriage, he was exousccl. Florence felt the momentary shyness common to young wives on their first introduction to their husband's 'particular' friends 5 but it speedily passed away, under the influence of Lawrence Daly's bright manner, and" his framk courtesy. It was not until they had made some progress in the meal which Florence had prepared, with sundry misgivings concerning its quality,, that she had courage and leisure taobserve what manner of man Lawrence Daly was. He was very handsome ; that she acknowledged at once, and even did not deny fchafc lie was handsomer than Walter ; the comparison being forced upon her as she looked from on* to the other, while they tnlked and joked merrily. He was tall and strongly built, bnt with an easy elegance of figure, which made each attitude spcm his best, and any kind of attire becoming to him. His features were nearly faultless m outline, bufc not* therefore, insipid, because the faults, flic over-height, the too massive weight of. the forehead, the tallness of the head above the cars, while they broke the iJeal correctness of the face were welcome to the eye, which discovered in tuein indications of superior intellect, delightfully supplementing the mere beauty of the face. His large, full, resolute eyes- were of the darkest gray, and remarkably brilliant, and when he smiled, the sparkle in them was fascinating, so full was it of life, courage, and the power of enjoyment. A great quantity of golden brown hau* curled closely all over his head, ami he anticipated the fashion of a later date by wearing a line beard, and a Jong thick moustache, which had never been injured by capricious shaving. After she had looked at him for awhile, Florence- arrived at the conclusion that he was the handsomest man she hud ever seen ; then that he had the most musical, manly, meaning ! voice she had ever heard ; and flnally, that he made her feel a delightful security, convincing her ,that with him Walter — whom she would not have consciously suspected of weakness of character, or need of guidance, for the world— would be quite ' safe.' Florence had not tlie least notion (hat 'she was a very sensible little person, possessed of a great deal of penetration, and fat 1 stronger in-courngc and principle than her husband ; from the mere entcrtaiijmen-t of such un idea as- the lattei she would have shrunk ns from a kind of domestic treason. She had often hesitated to trust her own judgment, when it differed from his, and now that she felt to el rough nttracted towards Lawrence Daly, she was rejoiced to know" that there would be perfect accord between herself and AValter. But, though she was clear-sighted, Florence was not suspicious, and her enjoyment of the pleasant society of her husband's friend was nob disturbed by any idea that hound Walter were talking on a systematic plan — that, during the teadrinking, whicli seemed so entirely to Lawrence Daly's taste, they wore leading Up to the introduction of a certain topic, which it had been resolved to discuss, and for which it was necessary to prepare her. Daly had done a good deal of profitless desultory travel in his boyhood, and had carried back from it many bright, artistic impressions, which lie related with force and spirit, very delightful to simple, inexperienced Florence, who did not detect that his purpose was to familiarise her with 'the ideas qf distance, of locomotion, and of adventure. When the tea things were removed, and Florence's head mas bent oyer her needle-work, th&two men exchanged glances, and then Walter Clint said : ' You remember, Flo., that we agreed, the other day, that something must be dono to alter our circumstances for the better ?' ' Yes, Walter.' 1 And that I said I should consult Daly? Woll, here he is, come down to help me to hold a council of war. I have told him enough to make him understand exactly how we are situated, and he will go into it all fully with us, if you like.' 'I shall like, very much, Walter," returned his wife, looking, not at her husband, but at Lawrence Daly. 'If yon have really told Mr Daly all, I am sure he muslj. think our marriage was very imprudent ; but I hope ho knows hotv generous it was of you, and how helpless and unprotected I was.' Her voice, trembled ayiittle, and, a tear fell on her work. 'Mrs Clint,' said Daly earnestly, 'my candid belief if, that Walter never did a less imprudent deed in his life if I wanted any other proof of that than the scene before me,, I should find it in the courage and the resolution which enable him to contemplate a painful way out of his difficulties, and a- toad, though a rough one, to independence.' ' What is that way ?' asked Florence cawiasUy., and she Inid her work on the table, and pushed it from her. Walter unconsciously moved his chair, closer to lievs. lltis by leaving England for awhile, for a few. years,. a* I am about to do, and going to a country where there, is a riim reward for hard work and endurance.' 'I proposed to Walter that wo should go to some of the places where they say pucli is tho case, myself,' said Florence eagerly. — ' Did I' not, Walter V ' You did, Flo. ,- but wo don't quito mean it in thut way.' Sho was silent. She never could exactly recall afterwards how it was that Lawrence Daly explained to her that she was to remain in England,, to be parted from Waltor, while lie went to the modern El Dorado, whose fascination, was at that time in its first vigor and magic. He drew pictures for her of the grandeur and beauty of ' the land of wonders ho explained to her that there, by the hard work and patience, the courage and endurance of a sho/t term of years — they soiwid so trifling to a man, they signify so muoh to a woman — sufficient money might bo made to enable Walter to return, to take up his profession m a creditable manner, without the wearing anxiety of total dependence upon it, placing her in I the comfortable and assured position which he so earnestly I desired for her, and rendering him independent of tho ca-« prices and unkmdness of his father,. ' It would be very nice not to be obliged to caro, if lig really did leave his money to a hospital, or to a housemaid,' struck in- Walter at this point, with a feeble attempt at cheerfulness. Florcnee remembered that he had told her Daly was going abroad Mo the other enoV of the world,' and she began to understand that the plan which they vpero 'breaking' to- her was, that hen husband should accompany him, as a partner in all his enterprises. She was oCa submisaivo nature, not apt to revolt against anything only became she did not like it, and sho felt insfinctive confidence in Daly. Her womanly prudence- made her more conscious than Walter, even though lie contemplated this way out of it-, the peril of tlioir position, and, with all her quiptuess* theie. was m hor admiration of courage, sympathy witli adventure. 'It would not matter much to me,' she had thought more than oncn during t,ho last few weeks ; ' if things grew worse, he would be discontented and unhappy.* Sho did not put into words that fine truth, that love will not sustain men tinder adverse circumstances, as it will sustain women, but she felt it as upplied to Walter. Lawrence Daly was tho chief speaker, and in his eagernesi to cheer and comfort her, lie let his vivid imagination loose, and drew gorgeous pirturt-n of California — pictures in which the discomfort, tho dancer, the dreariness of the journey thither, hud no place, for hr reckoned confidently and cor1 cclly upon Floreui c's ignorance cm thobc points. She listened 1

with keen interest, for, thongb her heart wns sinking nt the thought of parting w ith Walter, she kept the troth from her, t and jlet herself listen as though it did not exist. She had " not consented ; nothing was settled, nothing was real as yet. When, in after-jenrs, Florence recalled that evening to her memory, it was with a dream-like feeling, strangely inappropriate to one of the most important epochs in her life. * ' Do you think of going to California merely because you nre fond of travelling and adventure?' asked Florence, who wondered whether Daly knew how poor her husband was — how Tery little money he could contribute to such an under' taking. ' 1 Ho, Sndeeil, Mrs Clint,' replied Lnwronce ; ' I have other nnrt weightier, reasons. I ara nearly as ]>oor a man as Walter, and surli expectation* as I hare are of a more treacherous nature tliaii fife. lam going to California to try und get a bhare of the gold there, because I doubt my ability to make money in a profession here, and because, whether I have ability or not, I am quite certain 1 have not patience for the process. law young, strong, and naturally fond of adventure. lam very tired, of my anairtisfactory life here, and I see nothing more enticing in ptospect, if I remain here. lam quite without friends, in the useful, pecuniary accommodation sense of the word, and I am suro I shall find no gold unless I dip it out of the earthj myself.* 1 You cannot be more friendless than Walter and I,' said Florence, with a tearful glance at her yonng husband's moody face. ' O yes, I can,' said Lawrence, ' for Walter bus yon, and yon hare Walter, fay the beat of friends, und whether you are together or apart, you nro still that to each other ; bui lam only au excreaenoe on the face of society. I hnve no raison d'etre, and 1 think I should like to make one for myself. One cannot do that, if one is dependent on anybody, or in an attitude of waiting for anything, ■whether it bo living man's patronage, or dend mon's shoes. lam tired of waiting for the former, and I don't want to wear the latter, so lam going Westward ho ! to the wonderful country which is giving »i fresh impulse to our old civilisation here, and is speaking of new hopes and" possibilities to millions of men hitherto fettered- by its narrow conditions. Let Walter come wifch me, Mrs Clint, and he shall return to you, freed, like myself, from any need of courting his I father's fuvour, or desiring his inheritance.' 'How long would that take to accomplish?' asked. Florence, with a melancholy shake of her head". ' 1 cannot tell you that ; but not long, 1 ai» convinced. All accounts of the goMftelds tell us of rapid fortune, or of complete failure ; there is no medium and little suspense. I will tell yon what I propose, Mrs Clint. Itis.tlmtjou and Walter should agree to a certain period, during, which he shall try his fortunes with me, and tlieu r if w.e are not successful, he shall return. I carnot believe hia position, will he injured with his father by bo bold "and manbtjnn effort j or yours, when the time comes to acknowledge yonr marriage, by your endurance of such a trial, And-Jjken, i£ the New World has not used him well» he hasl^n<? \.o try the Okl World once more.' h '. • And supposing this is agreed to,' asked Florence, ' where is the money to come from which Walter would need ?' ' I propose that he should frankly tell his father what his purpose is, and ask him for a sum of money in Hew of hisallowance ; and,' he added, observing the unmistakable expression upon Mrs Clint's face of her belief that Walter would not get the money in that way, ' if that fails, Walter shall share the little I have, anil pay me back with interest) out of the strong box of the gnomes- ' You have very little more than enough fbr yonrself, old fellow,' said Walter. ' Enough for one's self is on indefinite quantity, falter, determinable by circumstances. We shall not 1 be quite 6» comfortable if we have no more between us than \ have got ; but comfort is also au indefinite quantity j and, I take it,, you and I will contrive to have as much as we want.' 'That cannot be, Mr Daly,' oaid Florence. 'It must be,* replied Lawrence, *in the case that Walterrequires it should be. Be reasonable, both of you, and listen to me. There, you are married. That can't be helped * even if either of you would allow it to be. You are in a- ■ critical position, and yon must be taken out of it. There is, one way for Walter to do. It, and I have bq doubt whatever he will succeed. He is my dearest friead.. I slumld hate to undertake ibia alone. Who is to help h\Tf) but me, if his father won't ? But I think his father will.' His very cheerful way of dealing with the matter disarmed Florence, and Walter had known his fritnd's generous intentions beforehand. Insensibly she fou»d herself discussing details with tho two, and learning from LawrenceDaly an outline of his own story. It had gr<fat simplicity, and was not devoid of sadness. ' If you understand the meaning of oar Irish word " ramshackle," you will know the kind ©f people to whom I appertained,' said Lawrence ; Lif you don't, you will hardly realise how little chance I had* m my childhood of useful education, or practical training. I come of a good, meaning; an old, family, in the west of Ireland. When 1 arrived on the scene of my ancestral honors, there was little else left ; and before my fother's death — he died young — there was. nothing. My mother and I, and a pretty sister of my mother's — 1 was fonder oi autit Kate than ot any one in tho world — lived in Dublin, on a little bjfc of an incomtf, which was their joint property ? and 1 got some schooling somehow. I don't think my poor mother " minded me" much , as another of our Irish sayings has it ; she was pre-emi-nently of the ramshackle order, and had a placid faith in my tumbling up somehow. It was justified by events, for I haro tumbled up, and hero lam ; but I am tired of tho process. When I was fourteen years old, aunt Kate nvirried ; and I am sorry to say I am afraid she did tho rash deed very much more for my sake than for her own, or for that of the bridegroom — a rich, but disagueeable party, in a, large way of business in- Calcutta, who had come home to look for a wife, not approving of the articles with which the market was glutted in those da\ s, and had fallen in love* with aunt Kate's hluo eyes and iair ikin, on his first sight of them. She had a great deal more than her beauty to. recommend her,, but I don't think Clibborn was tho, man i<y appreciate anj thing else. I nevrr saw him, but I never liked him ; and I think, indeed I know, the marriage was. not a success. He promised her, among other things, that he would do- wonders for Hie ; and he did- pay for a hotter kind of education for me than my poor mother, who died the week after Kate's marriage, could have given me. Ho had a sort of right to look after me a little too, iudeprndcnfc of aunt Kate, for he was n relation of my father's ; the kivismanship was very distant, I beKeve, but still" it existed, and, in fact, had led to the introduction to my mother aod.hcr sister, which resulted in this marriage. He was not a, man to take anything of that kind into consideration, however ; and I never thought anything about our tcn£h eousinihip, te- which aant Kate dnng ; though, distant as was that ti* r I believe it was the only one he had : I never heard o£" another relative of Chbborn's. My aunt's plan was that I should go out to India, on leaving school, and have a place in the" boose" of Clibborn and, Co — by that time there was no Co. But Mr Clibborn did not see it : he did not want me out there ; I suppose he had found out that aunt Kate did nob love him with inconvenient fervour, ami that.shje eared more for me than for anything else in the worj.d*. ' At nny rate, auut Kate found her plan was not to be carried out ;. and lam afraid Clibborn nsed me as a means of making her unhappy, and " breaking her in" 1 to an extent she was nol preparud for. I hated my dependence itpon hftn — and it was complete — for, after all, though she handed over? her little income to me, she could only have clone^t by hissanction j and I cannot say rrmeh for my conduct Mn any way. I suppose tli« ramshackle tradition stuck tp mo.! Clibborn wanted to put me into a Liverpool house, but I would not go ; I wonted a commission in the army — th© one idea of a>H Irish lads at my time — and Clibborn positively refused to buy one- for me. 1 pronounced, then, foe the sea, and tried it — vainly ; I could not stand it — merr ehant-semee., of course. I think I should hare liked it, if I could have put in at Calcutta, and had a peep at aunt Kato unknown to Clibborn-. I made up my mind to medicine, quand mint*; and here I was, living in lodgings, like Walter, when he and I met, and very soon became good friends — as we shall be "■ mates'* before long, and camarados. for ever. And now I have told you my story/ ' Not quite,' said Florence. * You have not told mo why you ai - e about to give up your medical studies, and to go to California.' Duly's face colored over, and his tone was changed, as he replied : 'My aunt is dead, Mrs Clint. She died shortly after she In&t wroto to mc^iuow nearly a yea* ago. Mr Clibborn carried out her last wishes, in so far aa sending me three hundred pounds, which siie had saved out of herallowance for personal expenses, may be said to fulfil them ; but he never took any real interest in me ; never cared whether I did well or went to the devil ; used me, I sincerely believe, as a means of tormenting her ; And the ietr coiniunnicutions which had taken place between us had not increased our mutual esteem. My aunt's small annuity ceased with her life, as in my mother's case ; nnd therefore,, you sec, I have nothing to depend on, and am much more convinced I need not place any reliance upon Mr Clibborn. Indeed, I wonld not take anything more from him ; I hate the old fellow for my poor aunt Kate's sake. And there'snothing to- be done herewith three hundred — nothing that lam cnpablo of doing, at least. ' But it will tak.c Walter and mo to tho gold-diggings, if we manage it well. Aad when we come buck, we uhnll b« to» rich to remember howpoor we n ere when we started.' • And-Mr Clibborn-?' asked Florence, who had listened with close iitlentiou to Lawrence Daly's story. ' Ho said he was coming to England — retiring from bmincss, I biippob?. He wroto very briefly, did not say anything about wishing to see me, which was a decided relief to my feelings ; in fact, he may be in England now, for auj--thmg I know or care.'

Mrs Pnrlington cannot understand why diamonds should be considered as worth their weight in carrota. Still, beifig; an enterprising woman, ane has decided to devote her garden! to tlie raising of tlie vegetable. Learning that the King of" Portugal has a yellow diamond weighing 1,680 carrots, she hopes next year to raise a crop which will unable her to. become the possessor of the pivjjiojus jowel.