CHAPTER IX.-A WAY OF ESCAPE.

Waikato Times, Volume IV, Issue 206, 4 September 1873, Page 3

CHAPTER IX.-A WAY OF ESCAPE.

' PiKNTT of money, and all England to chooso from ; ' Miriam had tkus -briefly and correctly defined Mr St Quentin's position. It was not an unenviable one, though sh« wasVitnost as accurate in her. gueis at hit age. Ho wasnot.far from sixty yean old/but he .was Tory well preserved, and had been a handaonvt man in Tiii 7011 th, of an order of handsome manhood of which the form lasts, and even improves. He Jiad been originally endowed with a fine constitution, and it had fulfilled its promise ; succei»f ally defied the climate of India, the labours and vexations of a oommercial career, wliich had, however, been rewarded with success and fortune, the luxurious life <n which that fortune "had enabled him to indulge, and such domestic afflictions as had befallen him. The latter had nol been numerous, and Mr St Quentin never alluded to them. Those who knew him beat knew no more than lie Imfl married in England, and that hi« wife had died in India. He had no near relativea; he never «poke of having any distant ones-, and lie ihad always been a man of few intimacies. Mr St Quentin, in returning to Europe, did not make so grave a mistake as many men make, in abandoning the mode ■of life to which years have habituated them, to take a place in a social system with which they have no longer anything in common. He had no plan in his mind for tke revival of •old associations, but he had a very weH-constructcd scheme for the formation of a pleasant mode of life for himself, which -should be entirely mew. The sort of thing he asked of Europe, Europe could undoubtedly give him ; the gratification of his material inclinations, and of a late-grown taste for travel in the Western World. Mr St Quentin was only moderately anxious about the fulfilment of his ostensible | purpose in visiting Hampshire Ho would bujr a ' pl»i>e' in that comity iF he should find one to suit him ; but he would not be in a hurry about it, and the looking for such a thing would afford him an opportunity of making the pleasant tiarface sort of acquaintances oi which he bad few at present. He had been fortunate in the companions of his homeward ■voyage ; his fellow-travellers had got on well with him, and he had been popular— lf only on account of his rarity ; and his present visit to the highly respectable person so obnoxious to Mr Clint, was an early result of the favorable impression he had made on stranger*. Not one of his temporary associates had guessed Mr St Quentin's ago so accurately as Miriam ! he had passed easily for ' just turned fifty ; ' and he Suld not have been by any means gratified had lie been r <re of this particular exercise of that 'bright intelligence' ffhe part of his hostess' young friend, which he had commended as warmly as her handsome face and capital seat on horseback. It is a favorite delusion with women that they look well in the saddle ; whereas, even pretty women rarely stand the test of the dress and the attitude successfully ; but in Miriam Clint's case it was not a delusion. When, as he was walking his horse slowly alongside of Mr Coute's, through one of the few pretty lanes in that part of the country, Miriam came up towards them at a canter, her rare golden eyes sparkling, and her fair cheeks flushed with air and exercise, Mr St ■Quentin thought it was the .pleasantest appnrition he had seen for many a long year; and the unexpected meeting, one of the most agreeable surprises * ithin die experience. Miriam ■was on her way to the parsonage, and the two gentlemen rode back thither with her. Mr Cooke was too conscientious m. man to indulge in uncharitable speaking concerning onr of his parishioners; but his wife, who disliked Mr Clint on the particular grounds of his impertinence to her hnsband, as woll as on the general score of his misbehaviour in all the relations of life, concoived herself absolved, by the particular grievance, from much tendernrss towards Miriam's father. Accordingly, when her visitor questioned her respecting the pretty girl with whom Mrs Cooke liad shared his extravagant gift of flowers, sent down from London, the rector's wife told him a very unvarnished tal* indeed. She dwelt chiefly on Mr Clint's conduct to Walter, and the fatal estrangement between father and aon ; but she also drew n picture of Miriam's uncongenial and depressing life at the Firs ; a jportion of her theme in which Mr St Quentin evinced a much more lively interest. ' Am I likely to ?ee this pleasant specimen of paternity?' •asked Mr St Quentin. ' Certainly not here. He and Mr Cooke do not speak, and Miriam's visits are permitted only on euffernnoe, and the ltfccit condition that they, are not frequent. I fancy she has more tact than poor Walter had, and manages her impracticable father better. 1 • Tact is an especial attribute of your spjc.' ISo men say. Assuredly we need it in dealing with yours. In tin's case, it is a pity Walter was not the girl, and Miriam the boy* ' Is he so very weak then ?' ' No ; I don't think so— but she is so very strong. I never knew a girl of her ago with anything like Miriam Clint's , determination of character. One perceives it in everything, small and great.' ' She is very handsome,' said Mr St Quentin, in a tone ■which somewhat puzzled Mrs Cooke, but which signified that the speaker was disposed to regard Miss Clint's beauty ■as an excuae and compensation for so unnecessary and undesirable a quality as determination of character. No more was said on that occasion concerning Miss Clint ; but Mr £t Quentin took care to ride in the direction of the Firs on the following day, and this time also he met Miriam. She was walking, accompanied by her maid ; and if Mr St Quentin had been a younger man with quick sight, he might have seen that Miriam' 3 arm rested on that of her attendant, which she squeezed significantly as she relinquished it. He might also have seen that the attendant folded up a letter hastily and put it in her pocket, as she fell bark into her proper place. But Mr St Quentin observed neither of these things; he only saw that Miriam was there, looking blooming, lovely, and glad to see him. With all the grace and elasticity which he could mustrr, he dismounted, encouraged by Miriam's looks, and walked by hrr side, leading his Jrorse. Mr St Qentin talked well ; and the newly emancipated schoolgirl enjoyed his lively humour, and had no objection to his evident admiration, which he kept strictly within the bounds of good taste. She expressed her sentiments regarding the neighborhood very freely to her new acquaintance, who was careful to let her know that he had abandoned all idea of purchasing Winton. Florence walked demurely behind them, her mind wandering far away from them and from the surrounding scene ; wandering back to her brief home-days with Walter, and onward hopefully enough — for she was of a cheerful temperament — to the future, when home might again exist for them. A slight relaxation of Miriam's attention, some little uneasiness of manner, which her companion was quick to detect, led him to take leave of her at the point where the road on which they were walking tnrned towards the Firs. Miriam was not aware that she had betrayed any of her inward trepidation, bul the felt a great deal. Suppose they should meet her father, who was usually about the place at this hour of the day, and he should be in an unfortunate phase of his chronic ill-temper, and should insult Mr St Quentin, and bully her, which was exceedingly probable. The tact and ease of manner of Mr St Quentin set her mind at rest in a moment, and he, as he rode slowly away, determined to find out the cause of the uneasiness he bad perceived. He guessed its origin unassisted, and felt a good deal of pity for Miriam, together with much increased admiration. A practical man, at Mr St Quentin's age, if he begins to think at all of -taking any important step, is not likely to overlook the fact that he had better not lose time about it. He was very much pleased when other people were mistaken about his age, but he never deceived himself on that point. Among his plans for the new life on which he was to enter in Europe, t second marriage had not had a settled place ; he had sometimes thought of it as a possibility, but. one which he was content to leave to the chapter of accidents. He had not been a very devout believer in love at any period of his life, and love at first sight, on the part of a man of sixty, would have seemed to him a ludicrous and contemptible self-delusion. And yet it was something vf rv like love at first sight with which Miriam Clint inspired him ; it was as good an imitation of the sentiment as he had perhaps ever been capable of feeling, for his was nol an elevated nature, or a noble heart. There was n good deal of calculation in Mr St Quentin's disposition, and not much impulse, even as a young m»n. He had been very much struck by Miriam's beauty, by its fresh henlthfulness, it* fine bloom, without any touch of coai'snne?*, which he could not have tolerated, even as a refreshing change from thp pa«ty, faded faces of European women in India. Then the story which Mrs Cook had told him interested him ; not, perhaps, on the most creditable or amiable grounds. We had no objection to the idea of a small and disunited family ; he was not conscious of the distance his fancy had travelled, when he began to consider this branch of the subject ; it involved much less trouble and responsibility, and interferonce, in case 80 far Mr St Quentin's thoughts hnd already conducted him, when his acquaintance with ltf irinm was only three days old ; they could hnrdly have been more expeditious had he heen only ft third of his actual ngc The strongest feeling he hi^d excited in Miriam'.s mind wn* curiosity. His admiration gratified her vanity, which had found but scanty aliment in her dreary home life, and her fancy went to work upon his antecedents, his position, and his wealth. Mrs Cooke could not tell her much on any of those point*, but the two women talked about Mr St Quentin the next time they met, to their hearts' content. Hi« visit to the parsonage lasted only one week, but before that w#ek came to a conclusion, he had mode the acquaintance of Miriam's father, through the good offices of MiMartin ; and had so skilfully managed the matter that his kind entertainers wore not in the lea«t offendtd that their guest should bo on terms of acquaintaneeshir) with a person who had treated them so badly. After nil, tho whole thing was anomalous, for, did not Miriam visit them constantly ?

Mr St Quenlm's intention of purchasing ' a plaoe 1 wm not fi-.ally abandoned, .then he yielded to *be repreMintationi of ' Miriam, and gar* up the idea of Wintcm. When their «ry pleasant new friend bad* Mr and Mrs Cooke farewell, with a hearty acknowladgra«rit of their kindness, it was with the understanding that he would return to tho neighborhood in a short time. He had contrived to «co Miriam every day during that week, and ihe »iw perfectly conscious that he had Men her by osntriranct, though the appearance of •coident wm admirably pri'scrred. 'Jo her surprise nnd relief her father had been very civil to Mr St Quentin. Eren Mr Clint occasionally grewtired of hu sullen solitude ; and tw this new acquaintance wan not a fliture^in tho -neighborhood there wai no danger of hia becoming what Mr Clint called intrusive and troublesome. Her father raa more gentleman- ■ like in 'bis manner, and more ielf-controlled, in the presence of this polished and agreeable stranger, than Miriam had ever seen him ; and had even treated her with more civility, perhaps unconsciously influenced by the deferential attention pnid lo Ik?p in hia presence by an older man tban 'It ft were -only shaming papa into remembering that I inn a h.tlv, I caimot bat be grateful to Mr St Quentin, 1 said Miriam l*o her m'ster-in-law., when tlwy were discussing tho gue«t who lad just been ' speeded "" by Mr£lint with quite exceptional politeness. ' I should not bo at all surprised if lie made up tho quarrel with the Oopkea, and aotunlly persuaded i>npa to forgive them the enormons offence of having been Wif!*r'« friends. He is ically a delightful old gentlenun ' . „ 'From tho lew !»hmp«p>»of hmil liave contrived to obtain, «:ml Fh.reuee, • I don't dunk he would like you to think him n deli-ihtful ol 1 <»i rri.'.u-iii ! Elderly, at tlie outside, I fancy. He is~er\ himd-o ne ; Imt i t.'ou't think he looks* as if ho hnd much hem I ' ' I J-iresav We lia-tn't,' s.iitl NTniam carelessly ; but he has good manners, fuel, and plenty of money.' ' And good tnote,' tud Florence, smiling affectionately at Miriam, ' for, if mT I *nw admiration, and something more, in a man's face, I saw it in his to-day, when he was talking to you m the garden, and I brought you out your parasol.' 1 That won't do him any harm ; especially if he has no heart.' « No,' said Florence, ■and then she was silent and thoughtful for a while. ' It seems nbsurd, and almost improper,' she continued, ' to entertain such an idea about a man of his age ; but I cannot help saying to you that I do think he is trying to make himself agreeable to you ; and do you think it is quite fair to let him?' Miriam looked at the frank, fair faco of her brother's wife, and an unpleasant feeling, remotely akin to shame, stirred within her. She knew quite well that Mr St Quentin meant to return to the neighborhood of the Firs entirely on her account ; she knew that she had allowed him to perceive that she was aware of it ; she was conscious that in the slightest possible mutual understanding on such a subject between a girl at her age and » roan st Mr St Quentin's, there was something little short of odious ? but the warp in Miriam's mind was increasing with every day's experience of her home, and with her growing detestation of it. 'I am going to be quite frank with you, dear,' said Miriam, as she placed herself on a cushion on the floor beside Florence — a favorite soat of hers. 'It is all right that you should feel about such things as you do. You and Walter were young lovers, young husband and wife, and all the romance and enthusiasm of lore were yours. Well, just see the price you have paid, and are paying for it ! It. ill never pay any price, for [ will never make tlie purchase. It is a horrid thm-i to yon, no doubt ; but I hare nevcv been in love, remember, and a bu*iiiPS3-like view of things is not unnatural for me. 1 cannot endure this place, Rose 4 1 cannot endure the wiwtelied prwon-Jike restraint of my hateful home. No husb.m 1 could be so hard, so tin possible to put up with, as p ipa.' Floience shook her head. ' No, no ; I repent it : no husband could nmko my life wretched in p ipa m ike-i it. I have no reason to believe that such an id«a as asking me to m »rry him has ever entered Mr St Queutin's lie id ; but I don't deny that I have thought i I s'iouM he ghi lif it dul. He i* very rich, and he has no relati\es to hate and ency h>s wife, and dispute his wealth with her ; he is a gentleman, a man of education, and perfectly independent. He could help Walter, and set me free from the -boii lage of thu place I could like him quite well t enough, nnd I mu sure Ive js too sensible to expect any more. I could do my duty by him. In short all this is folly, you know, Hose, and I ntn talking nonsense on purpose, just because you began it, m your wise way ; but — but— if it were, by any ex'ituordiußry c'iftner, to be so, it would bo a way of escape.'

LIPK AbSIKINCK A.S AN In'CKSTMKNT — L >t U- eon] 'lire the po«>ilioii of l\w> men of thirty years af age, one ol wLoni invests £10 per annum in tin* ordinary way in some *>afi* coiKTni paying four percent, per annum, compound infert'st, mid the «tlier % similar sum for a life assurance policy of £100, pn.i able at death, in a good office, paying one and-a-half per cent, ppr- annum ns bonus oh the policy nnd accumulations, — and this he «ould do easily enough. The risk of the compaiiy failing is certainly not »o great as that of the investments depreciating, or vanishing altogether. Now, suppose both men live for thirty-two yean and then die, the position of their heirs will be just the same, — that is, one man's investments with four per cent, compound interest will only equal the other man's policy with bonuses added, — the sum in each case will be £626. Now, safe and profitable investments are difficult to find for small sums for a long term of yeais; and, when found, how many men »re there who would rigidly adhere to the resolution to save the £10 every year, and never encroach on the fund for sickness, holidays, increasing family, or other pressing emergencies ? We think few could be so determined. On the other hand, the life premium becomes a sacred claim as a provision againt early death. He knows he cannot withdraw without loss. True, this may be made to appear a drawback — the inability to get at the whole of the fund for any urgency — and it is an argument against excessive assurance ; but looked at as a permanent investment, this very feature is a great advantage. The investor, then, has no advantage over the assurer until after thirty-two years of the experiment, and how many years of life can he expect after an average age of sixty-two ? Only two or three, for the average expectation of life at the age of thirty is about thirty-four years, »nd only about half the men of thirty live to attain sixty-four. These two men of thirty have thus about «n even chance of living to the age of sixty-two, when the comparison between them may be fairly said to begin ; but in the event of death at any time beforo this age (also an even chance), there can be no comparison whatever. The assurer is, in the first year, in as good a position m the investor twenty years later, besides been freed, all the same from the fir«t, from the care and anxiety which beset the saving man during the whole period. This it an item that cannot bo computed in money, but it it a vital one. What is one of the chief causes of premature death ? Surely the worry *nd tnxiety about our health and our prospects, and those of the dear ones we may leave behind. Certainly, no measures of precaution can do more to reduce this "life canker" than life assuraßce. The success of the saving and investing man depends upon prolonged life, which is the most uncertain item in the whole account. How futile, in most casci, is the confident bout, " Oh, I can do better by investing my savings some other way." One strong objection of this class to life assurance is the difficulty of recovering any considerable part of the premiums paid, should circumstances compel a discontinuance of the policy. Doubtless, the practice of some offices has given colour to this ; but at present we are assuming that a well managed office lias been choien, and, if this be done, wo unhesitatingly affirm that the objection is utterly worthless. — Once a Week. One of the many curiosities of the Vienna Exhibition is » German translation of Homer's " Iliad" in stenography, by Professor Schrieber, of Vienna. It consists of 600 microscopic pages, condensed iuto so minute a compass as to c,o into a nutshell. The Roman writer, C. J. Solinus (300 years 8.C.) in his " Polyphistor," speaks of a copy of Homer so small that the " Iliad" could be contained in a nutshell, and Pliny affirms that Cicero had seen the work. — Graphic. The Chinese at Ballarat now (lock to one of their barbers, who uses a. patent horse clipper on their locks, instead of the old-fashioned scissors. Perhaps our fashionable h<\ir-dreBser will take the hint, and give the clipper a trial. This is an age of progress. We have hair brushing by machinery— why cannot hair cutting and easy shaving be accomplished by the same means ? A new temperance society has been established at Cadrona, Otago. The first rule of the society allows ita members to take two wineglassfuls of alcoholic liquors in a day, and a fourth imposes a tine of 20s for every inf>»2tion of the first rule. The motto of the society is, " Use, and not abuse." Dunedin whiskey does not appear to bo in very high favour at Cbristdiurch. A correspondent of a southern contemporary telU the following story :—": — " A grent joke — although nenrly placed out — has been to try and catch a publican, barman, or burmnid tripping in tlie following way : — Two or three more would go into a bar, and one would ask the other what he was going to have. Ihe other would look hnrd .it the sermtf, and inquire very seriously if he, she, or it had tiny good Dunedin whiskoy. Should the answer happen to be ' Oh yes, sir,' it was a signal for tho bibulous parties in question to decamp forthwith, nn 1 w peek frer,!i fields and pastures new. The fact is tiie whiskey ' wants keeping' — a good judge told me «o."