CHAPTER VI. AT CHRISTMAS.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2116, 30 January 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER VI. AT CHRISTMAS.

Nearly another month had passed away, and Adelaide Manners still remained at the Vicarage. George came and went as usual, but had grown so capricious in his conduct and temper, that neither his mother, the children, nor yet Miss Williams could understand him. Some days he was the same as over —nay, brighter, happier, and more full of life than bofore —while on others he was sulky, misanthropic, and satirical by turns. In truth, a great strugglo was going on in his heart, and he could not make up his mind; or having made it could not keep to the determinations which he formed, and, angry and annoyed at his own weakness, ho showed it by his constant changef ulness and impatience. A hundred times ho had told himself that the less he had to say to his sisters' governess tho better; that there was something mysterious about her and hor early life, that he had nothing to offer her, and that it was altogether unsuitable. But when ho siw her sweet face again, the old charm was too strong for him, aud he would curse himself for his ungenerous suspicions, and wonder at his own presumption and folly. Adelaide saw the struggle which was going on in her brother's mind, for bhc was clever, but Miss Williams did not, and was hurt by his change of conduct, and began to fix her largo grey eyes on his face sometimes aud wonder what made him so different. In the meanwhile, one way or other, she Wii3 constantly thrown with him. Thoir Christmas play they found to be surrounded with unforeseen difficulties, but tho children were so determined not .to give it up, that tho only tiling eoouittd.

to be to strive to contend with them, All this of course made thorn more intimate, and Georgo with restless sighs and impatient frowns, could not tell whether this pleased or angered him most. Thus things went on until a few days before Christmas, when their invitations were issued, they holly waa gathered, and even Adelaide began to bo rather interested in their mysterious proceedings. No one, however, was to know anything about the little play they had agreed but George, Miss Williams, and the four girls ; so Mies Manners was not admitted into their counoils, and continued to treat Miss Williams with tho most haughty reserve. The day after tho invitations had been scut out to almost all the little boys and girls in the neighbourhood, Miss Williams chanced to bo giving Milly a muFio lesson in tho drawing-room, which con - tamed tlie only piano in the house, when a lady, whose arrival they had not heard, was ushered in, and whose name Miss Williams did not catch as tho servant announced her. Miss Williams rose and bowed, and said a few words politely about the cold, and placed a chair near the fire for their visitor. She was a littlo bright-eyed woman about fifty, and during the next few minutes made herself very agreeable. lls Adelaide Manners at homo ?' Bhe asked, in a perfectly free and easy manner. 1 Yos,' replied Miss Williams, ' I daresay sho will bo here directly. Run, Milly dear, and sco if they have told your nister that a lady 13 waiting for her.' ' Which of them is tint P' asked the lady as Milly ran away. 4 She is the third : I moan of tho present Mrs Manners' children. lOh to be sure. She is a good creature though, is'nt she, Mrs Manners ? I am glad Adelaide has stayed a littlo longer at home this time. Sho should try to get to liko her step-mother if sho can.' 4 Yes,' 6aid Miss Williams, in a rather constrained voice. ' Of course these things are very annoying ; very awkward for tho first family,' continued the lady. ' Still, when a thing is done it is wiser to make tho best of it, I think. My husband, Sir Thomas, did, and no one was more vexed at tho time about it, I believe, than he was, for he and the Vicar were such old cronies. But about tho invitation for Christmas eve which my little girls have received ? It says something of a sort of charado, and I called on Adelaido, or rather on Mrs Manners I should say, to ask if my little people, or their governess, who is really a nice creature, would be any use to the young Mannera in getting it up. Do yon think so?' ' I really cannot tell,' replied Miss Williams, with some hesitation. ' Mr — Mr Manners has arranged it all.' ' What, George ? George is a fine young fellow. He is a favourite of mine. I like George Manners — I admire him for doing what I consider was his duty.' 4 Yes.' 'Perhaps you don't know the story; but I'm an old friend — the oldest and most intimate poor Ltdy Manners had. I know the ins and outs, as the children say, of the whole family ; and George was right, though Adelaide will not think so.' IHe seems a very But here is Miss Manners.' Tho door opened as Miss Williams spoke, and Adelaide came hastily in, and with a much warmer mannor than she ever used in her own family, ran up to the guest saying — ' Oh, Lady Lilbourne, I'm so glad to see you.' 1 Well, Adelaide, how ar« you !' replied Lady Lilbourne giving her a good-natured, but rather indifferent kind of kiss. 'You see I've kept my word, and come to Bee you, don't know that I might have come so soon, and in this cold weather too, if it had not been on this business for the little ones about your charade on Christmas Eve. This young lady tells me George is the manager, but I daresay you can tell me all about it ?" Adelaido gave one glance of her cold, proud eyes at Miss Williams as she replied — 'Yes, my brother, has made all the arrangements. He got it up to please the children, but I am not in the secret. • Well, toll him from me, then, that if he wants any help, my young people will be delighted to come over and do what they can. Indeed, they are dying to < do it, and have been teasing me ever since the invitation came to let them get up one by themselves. But we must see how yours comes off first. Who is she ?' continued Lady Lilbourne; for Miss Williams had left the room while she was speaking, and her ladyship scarcely allowed the door to close before she made the inquiry. •She is the children's governess,' answered Adeliade, indifferently. ' She is a very pretty, elegant young woman. Mrs Manners has been exceedingly fortunate in getting her, for I always say there is nothing such a bad example to girls as a common dowdylooking person to be constantly with them. I always try to get good-looking nurses and governesses.' 'This one strikes me as being very much over-dressed, and I think rather forward.' € She ia so pretty, you see. I daresay all the men try to turn her head. She is remarkably pretty.' 4 Do you think so ?' said Adelaide, with a jealous, angry heart. ' There's no doubt of it. Ask any man you know. She's just that soft-taking style of beauty which they all admire. What does George say about her ?' 4 Very little.'' ' Ah, George is one of the deep ones ; but take care, Adelaide. Keep your pretty governess out of Cousin Hugh's way. We all know his failing.' And Lady Lilbourne laughed pleasantly, unconscious or careless of the bitter mortification she was inflicting. 'Sir Hugh would not— would never ' began Adelaide, and then she checked herself, turning crimson over her whole face. • What was it you were sayiug V she continued, after a moment's hesitation. ' Oh yes, about your message to George.' 'I want to know if the children or their governess would be any use to him ? And tell him, my dear, also from mo, that I would liko to see thi3 little performance, as I am thinking of getting up something of the same kind at Lilbourne.' • Oh, they will be delighted to see you of course ; but it won't be worth coming for, Lady Lilbourne ; only the merest child's play.' • Well, never mind ; but what do yon say, Adelaide ? Suppose you come to me for the next few days, and then we can drive over together on Christmas Eve ! I declare it is very cool of me asking myself in this way, but I do like to see little people enjoy themselves ; and you've nothing to prevent you coming, have you, if you have nothing to do with it ?' ' Very well,' said Adelaide. She was glad of any change : and Lady Lilbourue's was a pleasant house to stay in, and where, indeed, she felt almost at home ; for, as Lady Lilbourno had told Miss Williams, Lady Manners had been one of her oldest friends, i»nd from her childhood Adelaide had been in the habit of going to the house. Mrs Mannors, was out when Lady Lilbourne called, and before she returned her step-daughter was gone. She had, . however, left, at Lady LUbourne'3 re«

quest, a few pencilled lines for Mrs Manners, telling her of her own, and Lady Libourne's intentions, and enclosing also a message from her 1 adyship to George, to oner the assistance of her children and governess. ' Adelaide is gone ! Hurrah ! hurrah ?' cried Dolly an hour afterwards, rushing into the schoolroom, ' Mamma has had a note. She's not coining back till the night of the play. Isn't it jolly ? We'll have fun now ; there'll bo no one now to sneer or hide from.' Mis 3 Williams only laughed when Dolly told her news, but the whole family felt Adelaide's absence a relief, and went on making their paper roses and holly garlands for the decorations with renewed pleasure and zes.fc. The day before Christmas Evo George Manners had promised to come, and he did so late in the afternoon, in the midst of a terrible snow-storm, white from his hat to his boots : and they all ran down* stairs into the hall to welcome him, when they heard him stamping and shaking himself there. * I'm not quite lost, you see,' he said, holding out his hand, with a sudden glow spreading over his dark face, and a new kindness and brightness In his eyes, when ho saw that Miss Williams had come among the rest. 'What have you brought us?' nhe asked, smiling, so George drew his parcels from his pockets, and pointed to those which James, tho old man-servant, had brought from the station for him, which the children immediately seized upon, opening them with various exclamations of pleasure and delight. 1 Oh, George what a darling you are ! Look, Miss Williams, isn't this lovely ? Oh, Milly, let me see the shoes,' were heard on all sides ; while George, looking happy and handsome, ftood by Miss Williams' side vainly trying to keep sotno order amongst them. ' Bring them into the dining-room,' he said at last, ' and we'll all look at them together.' And accordingly they adjourned thither, littering tho table and the floor in a few minutes, so that Mrs Manners held up her hands in dismay when she came in, and asked where i George was to get his dinner amid all this confusion ? ' Never mind, mother,' ho said good tempercdly, 'let them stay. It's very jolly as it is. Wo must bo very merry tonight, you know.' And he did, indeed, look as though he had left all hit care behind, and had, the ehildron declared, brought everything they wanted. They had fixed before that their performance was to take placo in a large empty room attached to the vestry, which haa originally beon intended for a village schoolroom. Bat it had been long unused, for at this timo there was no school at Nnrbrough ; and being much larger than any of the old-fashioned rooms at the Vicarage, they had decided it would be more convenient to havo the acting there. Afterwards the forms wero to be cleared away for a dance, during which interval refreshments were to be served to the children. Such was their programme. But only the snow — was it not vexing, as they all thought of the little girls, their thin i-hoes and their white frocks ? ' We'll manage it somehow, said George, chperily, as they were talking it over. ' The gentlemen must carry the ladies. Mind, Miss Williams, you look on me as your cavalier.' She shook her head and gave a little laugh in reply, and then they went once more into the question of ways and means, counting 1 their numbers and finally fixing that George should ride over to Lilbourne Tower in the morning to ask the young Lilbournes to come an hour earlier than the rest, so as to be able to assist them in part of the performance. ' If we dont begin getting the holly put up in the schoolroom at once,' said Dolly, ' it will never be done.' ' Dolly is right,' said George, ' bat the fire is so jolly, and the room so warm, that by Jove I hato to turn out. But we must go, I sqppose. It's all down there is'nt it, girls ? Run, then, and get on your hats, and my Milly and Bonny will be good little chicks and go to bed. This, howover, they were very unwilling to do. They wanted to help to put the holly up also, but they were at last persuaded to go into the kitchen instead, where Mrs Manners and the cook were busy, surrounded with good cheers. Katie and Dolly were gone before the little ones could be prevailed upon to stay at home without crying ; so George and Miss Williams were left, and when she came downstairs ready dressed to go out, he was standing, cap in hand, waiting for her in the hall. ' I will take care of you,' he said, as he opened the door. All the world outside was white, shining and beautiful. The moon was up and the wind had gone down, and George's arm was trembling as he held towards her. 'Take fast hold,' he said, 'and mind where you put your little feet.' She laid her hand lightly on his arm as she spoke, and thus they went out alone together amid the snow. ' Take care,' he said presently, as she gave a little slip, ' take earo, Amy.' He looked down at her as ho paid this. His face was flushed and his eyes was soft, and he smiled as she made a kind of movement, when he called her by her name. It seemed so long to her muco she had heard it— so strange to her to hear it then. ' You are not angry that I should ssy that ? ' ho asked. ' You know you told me you were Amy the other day.' ' No,' she said, with a sort of touch of sadness in her tone, ' no, I am not angry, because we are friends — quite old friends, I think, now.' ' Yes,' he answered, and his voice was very tremulous, 'we are friends, are vr« not— dear friends ? ' • But I do not know that I should be,' said Miss Williams, smiling and looking up. •I do not think you have been very friendly of late ? You have often been — what shall I say —rather cross P •Havel?' ♦ Yes, indeed. Has anything been tho matter? Will you be frank with me? Have I vexed you about anything ? George was silent. ' Will you not tell me ?' continued Miss Williams. 1 Perhaps I've been vexed at myself,' he said. 'But why did that make you cross with me ?' He bit his lips for a moment and then smiled. 'Of course,' he said, 'you ladies are always wise — always are rii»ht — but can you understand how — well, how a poor fellow gets tossed and driven between opposing interests and feelings sometimes ? Suppose a man is doing what he knows he has no right to do, Miss Williams, it does not add to the evenness of his temper.' ' But are you ?' asked Miss Williams. 'Yes,' said George, sharply, ' yes ; but I won't talk about it to-uight. Hear the sea, child — what does that make you fuel?' ' I do not -know ; a kind of vague dreamy feuliug, I think.' ' I wonder what feelings are ?' George went on, with a sort of excitement in his voice and maunei'. ' What mad fools we are to struggle so with them — to fret and vex ourselves and reason about this aud that It all comes to the same thing iv tUo cud, I beliovc— wo. fall at last.'

• What do you mean ' 'I am talking at random I dare say. I was thinking how strong we are against small temptations, and how weak against real ones. I was thinking. Miss Williams, of myself with the most thorough contempt. ' I can't understand you to-night' 1 I've left off trying to do that lately,' said George, with a short laugh. ' I used to pride myself on my strength, Miss Williams— l feel very muah inclined ta give you a proof of my weakness tonight.' ' It is cold/ said Miss Williams with a shiver. She did not care to encourage the conversation. 'Is it ?' he said, and then ho stooped down as if he would kiss her. 'It is Christmas time Amy— will you?' But she pushed him Bharply away. ' Don't, Mr Manners, she said, ' dont. Have you not a little raoro friendship for mo than that ?' • God knows I have some sort of very true feeling at any rate,' he answered. ' But you are right— forgive me. What a brute you must think me.' 'We are forjretting the holly— stay a little while. Why are you in such a hurry ? Amy — if n man .' ' I cannot stop to hear,' raid Miss Williams, quickly. 'Com*, Mr Manners, the Vicar and the children will be waiting for us.' They wore now close to the schoolroom, and with an impatient gesture, George followed her to the door. They found Katie and Dolly already actively employed putting up the holly, anointed by the village carpentor, under the Vicar's directions, who advanced to meet them as they went in. t 'I hope yon have not hurried yourselves ?' he said sarcastically. ' But judging from appearances neither you nor George 6eem to suffer from cold.' Miss Williams blushed, and George frowned and looked very foolish at the Vicar's speech, and then they both began to busy themselves with the decorations. But his work seemed to bring him to her side. He was flushed, excited and happy. ' How beautiful she is,' ho thought, as his eyes followed her, 'how fair, how graceful, and how good. 1 Then ho began to think despondingly of the very humblo homo which for years was all ho could offer her. •But if she loves me,' — and George's heart beat and his hand trembled until Dolly cried out that he was spoiling the wreaths they had taken such pains with ; that ho was no use ; that ho had better let John Forster, the carpenter, put them all up. •1 think I had, indeed,' said George, sitting down on a bench. 'I do not know whatever has come over me,' How he cursed, as he sat There, the follies of his youth— the follies which had hung like a millstone round his neck, which had bound his hands with such heavy fetters. If it had not been for the three thousand pounds— but the three thousand pounds of debt, a sacred debt of honour, stood sternly in his way. ' I rpend little more than two hundred a-year now — could she live ©n that V he thought. Then dismal letters in the papers ho had read from despairing wives and desponding mothers rose grimly in his mmd — the butcher — the baker — the washing — the nursemaid and the rent ! Ah! dreadful items— horrible necessities of civilization — and then George looked at Miss Williams' dress and shuddered. I How would she like to wear a cotton dress and cook my dinneis ?' he askod himself, mentally. • How would she like to slave and toil in some poor cottage through the long dull day ? It is madness—madness.' Then another sweet madness rose before his mind— that dear face welcoming him at the cottage door— that slight lithe form leaning caressingly by his chair. It was a dangerous vision. George sprang up and went to the open door, and stood looking out upon the snow ; out on the still and peaceful seene — on the white and silent world. He could see in the moonlight the tombstones by the church — could see where his uncle and cousins lay. 4 They too tossed and fretted,' he thought 'through their brief lives — they too struggled and failed — as I will. But if she loves me' He tv/ned round, and saw Miss Williams' soft eyes watching him. • Why should I throw my happiness away Vhe said, half aloud, and wont up to her and stood, asking her if he could help her; looking the love which was burning in his hoart. 'We shall soon bo done,' she said, ' But why do you look so grave ? Nothing has annoyed you, I hope.' 'No.' ' What is the matter ?' And she looked up into his face. 4 Nothing— nothing,' replied George. ' I will tell you some other time.' ' But you looked so serious ' I 1 have been thinking seriously— l will tell you soon ; but go on with your work now, and I will f-it and watch you.' ' You are a very lazy man.' George smiled a warm fond smile, and then went to his seat on the bench, and sat looking at, and thinking of his love. 'At least Adelaide won't be able to snub her any more,' ho reflected, knitting his brows, and stamping his foot as that annoyance passed through his mind. Ho had in fact never got over Miss Williams' schoolroom dinners and early tens. Some small things worry certain people more than preat ones, and George bad fumed and fretted over this slight to hirt friend until lie hud learnt nlmost to dislike his sister ; and a hard smile stole orer hia face as he «»afc there with folded arms, and thought how noon Mies Adelaide might have to humblo her proud heart. ' Hold this for me, George,' cried Katie, from the top of a step, ladder. 4 You idle lazy boy !' said Dolly, 'do lend me a hand here too.' So George got up and hold ivy wreaths, and nailed up holly ones, and began to laugh and be merry. His struggle was over. He bad made up hU mind. He meant to ask his sisters' governess to marry him on a little more than two hundred.

(To be continued. J

A Kansas newspaper says that a farmer in the eastern part of that state missed a couple of his cows, some time ago, and a diligent search and notices in the country papers failed to bring them to light. Yeaterday, however, while in the field, he noticed a hole in one side of a pumpkin, aud on getting a lantern and going in he found the lost cowi quietly eating pumpkin seeds and getting fat. The hole in the fruit was caused by the rapid growth of the vine, which had dragged it along over the ground for half a mile. Recently, at the American Rubber Company's Works, Cambridge, Mass., a number of girls in the coat room were suddenly overcome by the fumes of the naptha used in the ceineut on the seams of the coats. One of the girls suddenly began to laugh loudly and acted strangely, and then fainted. Several others also dropped upou the floor, and before physicians could be summoned more than thirty employes were unconcious or in hysterics. The alarm spread to the other employes, but they were soon quieted by the foreman in charge, and the girls most seriously affected were sent to their homes in carriages. No serious results are anticipated in any of the cusos. Under certain conditions the naptlm produces effect somewhat similar to laughing gas.