CHAPTER IX.—CONTINUED.

Waikato Times, Volume IV, Issue 218, 2 October 1873, Page 2

CHAPTER IX.— CONTINUED.

' Br.kT don't deceive yourself ; pray don't buoy yourself and me up with false hopei. If Mr St Qdentin wore to realise all jour expectations of hit generosity — and I think you must acknowledge they are extravagant — it|wouMJbe mndness for Walter to confess hii marriago now, and throw himself upon Mr St Quentin's kindness. In fact, he could not do it ; it would be tho wont kind of dependence. Our secret must be maintained', and the only thing you can do for m» will be to take me with you as your maid!' ' Well, be it so. You are determined to damp my spirits ; but you shall not succeed. I hare a presentiment that everything will go well with'ine, and with Walter too.' Florence smiled. 'And you have a presentiment,' she said, 'that Mr St Quentin will not object to your having a favorite and confidential maid, to whom you are kinder and more considerate than ever lady yet wat to Abigail ? ' ' I bare a presentiment, Rose, that Mr St Quentin will not intefere with either my feelings or my actions towards you. I shall make you as happy as you can be made, away from Walter, and Mr St Quentin had much better not interfere with mo.' ' And I will keep my distance and my place, and endeavor to give him no cause.' Then the sisters-in-law talked of other things, each feeling relieved that the momentous subject of discussion was laid ■side for the present. When Miriam and Florence had parted for the night, the young wife went with a heavy trustful heart to her nightly prayers ; but the young girl could not go through the form of words. She had not much refinement of mind or sensitiveness of conscience, but she lelt that she could not beg the customarily entreated blessing on the events of that day. Afterwards, it would come more easily to do so, when she should be better used to regarding Mr St Quentin as her husband. Thus did Miriam cheat herself, and belie the sound honest common-sense wLich she | os jessed. Mr St Quentin made his appearance at the Firs on the following day, very accurately dressed, and to all appearance, in a state of perfect composure and self-complacence. Miriam and Florence witnessed his arrival from Miriam's sittingroom. His equipage was a well-appointed mail-phaeton, and he drove the handsome pair of high-stepping bays himself, with an air which had just a little too much of the ci-devant jeune homme about it, but which did very well indeed for such inexperienced critics as the sisters-in-law. A magnificent boquet of hot-house flowers as carefully carried by a> groom as if it were somebody's son and heir, was immediately brought to Miss I lint, and she was informed that 'Mr 8b Qmntin was in the study with master.' The interview between the two gentlemen lasted longer thin Miriam expected, or liked. If they had agreed, there was so little to discuss that she bad expected it would have been over in a very short time. She knew her father was a man of few words, and she concluded naturally, and cor* rectly, that her elderly suitor would not be unduly anxiousto prolong the conversation. Florence had stolen away, and left her alone, and she sat, or rather crouched, on a loir oaken settle, whioh filled up the recess formed by the oldfashioned window, with her elbows on the sill, locking out at the carriage ; at the natty groom, who stood at the horses' heads ; at the fine spirited animals, who champed their bits,, and tossed their heads, and threw frequent flecks of foam about ; at the costly furs which served lor the foot-rugs ; at the silver mountings of the harness — a little too much becrested — in a word, at the symbol of wealth before her eyes; and while there was a strange sort of throbbing at her heart, she thought how nice it would be to own this, and the wealth of which it represented only a very small portion. The interview between Mr Clint and the mature suitor for his young daughter's hand had meantime commenced with some mutual embarrassment, though with much less on Mir St Quentin's part than on that of Miriam's father. The superior knowledge of the world and the business habits of the elderly lover told, as against the morose, awkward, selfengrossment of Beginald Glint, whose native manner waa. rudeness, as his ruling impulse of mind was distrust. The preliminaries being despatched, Mr St Quentin proceeded to inform Mr Clint that he proposed to make Miriam an allowance of five hundred pounds a year during bis lifetime — he entered on this branch of the subject without any inquiry into Miriam's own possessions or prospects— but that he did not intend to make a settlement upon her. 'Then,' said Mr Clint, 'that must put an end to the matter. I will not allow my daughter to mapy without a settlement.' ' ' I beg you to be patient for a moment,' said Mr St Quentin. 'I do sot ask you for any fortune With Misa Clint.' 'No,' returned Mr Clint testily; 'and it would bo no good, if you did. Miriam shall not have a penny of my money until after my death. I don't mean to part with my money, or any of it, unless I see a sound reason why. I don't see such a reason in my daughter's marriage, which will' remove her from me, apd deprive me of any care or attention I might wish to receive from her in the decline of my life.*' Hr Si Quentin listened with something approaching to a grm in his features, and with all the sentiments which would call forth such an expression in his mind, but he merely inclined his head, as a signal that he was listening, and said nothing. 'I have no faith in anything but self-interest, Mr St Quentin,' continued Mr Clint, with some additional surliness ; ' and I mean my daughther, and my daughter's husband, to have an interest in behaving well to me.' ' If I am S3 happy as to become Miss Clint's husband, X hope we shall always be good friends/ ' That's not the question. You say you do not ask me fog give Miriam any money, and I say I never intended to give? her any ; but when you add that you refuse to make a settlement on Miriam, which is another thing, I tell you plainly that I will not consent to my daught ra mairyingyou under the circumstances — there must be no uncertainty for her.' ' I hope you not persist in this view, Mr Clint, and I think I may perhaps modify it by a little plau-speaking. You consider it right lo control a daughter by considerations of self-interest; is it altogether wrong oktep similar considerations before the mind of a wife very nueh younger than her husband ? I have the profoundest admiration and the deepest regard for Miss Clint ; my most earnest desire ia to make her my wife, but I do not ask or expect from her a. romantic attachment, which would be absurd apd unnatural. A beautiful and well-conducted young wife w a prire such aa seldom falls in the way of a man of my age ; but I think I am justified in declining to make her completely independent of me, in declining to put it entirely out of mj own power to influence her by hope or fear' (here he spoke with slight but significant slowness) ' for the future. I only claim what , you claim : tho right to make the disposition of my fortune conditional upon the degree of happiness I derive from the. person who will be the probaUe inheritor of it. ■ There i^ not a shadow of probability that that inheritor will not be my widow I have no relatives, to speak of— my heir-at-law is a distant cousin, whom I have never seen, (or whom I bare already done all I ever intend to do, and whom I never purpose to see. I have all the feelings towards Miss Clint which justify me in asking for her hand, and I, naturally, have undoubting faith in their continuance ; but I have made up my mind in this instance, as in that of my former mamage, not to make any woman who should become my wife so* independent of me as to feel that she has nothing to gain by consulting my wishes and studying my happiness, and nothing to lose by my death.' Mr Clint's face, during this lengthy explanation of Mr St I Quentin's views, delivered with perfect calmness and well- I bred ense, was curious to behold. There was cynical admira- I tion combined with dislike in it ; he was something puezlg^ 1 something bnffled, and yet not wholly displeased. W I 'He is a cooler hand than ever I thought him,' was the. I silent reflection of Mr Clint, as he attended to the irreproaoh- I able discourse, and scanned the irreproachable person and I attire of his aspirant son-in-law. • Who would think a man I would do so foolish a thing in so perfectly sensible a way ! I He is one of " the wisest fools in Christendom," surely.' I He did not reply immediately, and Mr St Quentin ex- I hibited no signs of haste or impatience, though he felt both. I He had a pleasant conviction that, backed by Miriam's I determination to accept him, he should be more than •, I match for Mr Clint, do did not fear her being deterred by ■ his reluctance to settle ad income upon her, because he I judged it impossible that a young girl could understand its J signifioarce, and he was very anxiou* to meet her in the^H character of his betrothed. Mr Clint made him, after al^H pause, the exact answer he would have most earnestly de-^| sired, but had not rentured to anticipate. He sail. : • l^M don't deny there is & great deal of reason in what you say. H Suppose we refer the question of a settlement to Miriam^H You offer good terms for the rest, and if she's dispof^jM||^H risk it, perhaps I may be so also.' Mr St Qupntm gracefully seceded; and after a lit^t^H further discussion of his .circumstances, his views as to S^M residence, and his projects for the embellishment of Miriam's^H existence, in which her father was but very moderately H interested, the suitor requested permission to see Miss Clint. Mr Clint, who was very glad to get rid of bis visitor, told him he would find Miriam in the drawing-room, but evidently had no intention of accompanying him thither, and dismissed^! him with a reference to their meeting again at dinner. '^H Miriam was in the drawing-worn, looking very handsome,^H nnd just becomingly agitated. She rose as Mr St Quentin ,^H came into the room, and her downcast eyes and brUjjnit blush were in as perfect taste as if they, had been assumeWbr^^B the occasion. Nothing could be better than the demeanour of the elderly lover, as he advanced with a hurried step and a smile of triumph, apd, taking the hand which she neither^H offered nor withdrew, fervently kissed it.

' Och,' «tj» a loTe-iick; Hibernian, ' what a recreation it i to be dying in love ; it lets the heart aching no delicatel there's no taking a wink of sleep fo.r the, pleasure of th pain ! '