Novelist. BRISTONDELL, OR AN UNLUCKY MARRIAGE.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIV, Issue 2763, 29 March 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

Novelist. BRISTONDELL, OR AN UNLUCKY MARRIAGE.

By MRS W. RATTRAY, Author of "Mr Laetyear's Visit to Ao&tari,",J.The Myatery of {SloSne; ~

CHAPTER XXl.—Retribution.

Miranda, j , was : suffering terribly. She was a bad sailor, and the weather was unfavourable. As she lay in her berth that first night,' there 'came-before : her sleepless eyes the vision of a fair baby face, sound asleeg j-itsjtiny. hand clasping the lace-edged coverlet. She saw again with wearisome distinctness, the soft,Jighfc; cast by the pjnk silk which nad been thrown over the aide of the canopy next the window, for might)wake! the alutnberer. . She saw the white cat, lying so' 1 contentedly on the woollen-r?g by. the nurse's bed, she could even feel how- soft its fur was as she gently took it up, and carried it across to the cot. In the upper berth; Wohie' one vvas snoring in a low key : it was exactly like the that white cat as she laid it on the baby's face to accomplish its fatal Merciful heaven ! could she ndver forget 1 Was this endless gnawing at her conscience to go"on for ever ? She thought she would get Up and thro w herself over-b§ard j : but ; she ,• lacked the courage Did suffer

in this way 1 No, for if they did, they would tell other people how " hard is the way of transgressors, '• and so deter them from doing { wrong. But even as Miranda thought this, she recollected that no B warnings could have been strong j enough in that one moment of temptation to stay her hand ; why 1 should thtfy have more effect on f others ? Slowly the weary • night passed. ' To Miranda it seemed as if the wel- , come daylight would never appear. And yet when she was on deck, tor 1 the wind had moderated and she felt she could no longer remain in her stifling cabin, she could not escape from those 8 unpleasant 1 thoughts Tfhich had haunted her through the hours of darkness. A terrible feeling of utter loneliness crept over Her. All Ground wascheerful chattel; everyone 'but herself had some companion who helped to pass the tedious hours of inaction on board.' But she had not a soul to speak to. She was not aware that her own sour , face was chiefly to blame for this. Her eyes wandered from, group to group of these second-class . passengers. She had not expected to meet with many of her own rank of life amongst them, but her attention was attracted by one family in particular, who were evidently of gentle birth. One of the party, a ; little boy of about five, had been watching her for some time, and when at- length her gaze fell on him, he smiled pleasantly. He seemed to comprehend how desolate she felt, "for he presently crossed. Over and stood near her. If. she had not killed Lionel's child he might have grown into just such a. winning'little' boy as this. She looked at, him so earnestly that he took compassion on her, and with a child's frankness and generosity held out: a little piece of apple. " You can have this if you would like it; its a very good one, the steward gave it to me his own self." Miranda scowled at the innocent boy, and turned her head away, without even answering him. ~ That- night she retired early, determined to get sleep somehow. • But she was aroused by hearing that dreadful purring again. She instinctively put out her-hand to, as she imagined, shield herself from the horrid animal. : Her hand came in contact with its back. She opened her eyes, stifling a shriek with difficulty.' The pale light of a rapidly sinking moon, enabled her to see that the fur which had so terrified her, was only a boa, one of the' few articles, not absolutely necessary, on. which she had ventured to spend "a little of her precious money before ■ leaving {Liverpool.. The gentle snoring was still going on in the upper berth. Miranda felt she could bear it no longer. Taking her umbrella, she poked vigorously at the mattress above her head. The noise stopped and a sleepy voice demanded. ".What's up?" ~ | : "You must: not snore in. that dreadful fashion, its perfectly impossible to sleep !" / : Instantly a frizzly-haired head protruded over the side of the berth, and its owner retorted in tones fully as sharp as Miranda's. ' 1 " And who you, I should lite to know, disturbing my sleep in that - ..mariner ?jl come from a free country |i£ you "don't, ' arid I since I pdid for this here, bunk I can just make whatever noise I like in it." i Miranda knew sho had better avoid drawing attention to herself by' a quarrel, so ; very.'reluctautly, i she let the American remain mistiness of the field, and tried to get off to sleep first, as she was sure she could not' obtain a, single wink if that dreadful purring recommenced while-shei was still awake. t ., But the disturber of her peace was a kind-hearted woman, and pitying Miranda's j friendless condition, asked her where she was going, and what sho was going to do? Just before reaching New. York she offered Mrs Matthew a home with her own father-and mother; if she would be willing to help with the. house-work., This offer, Miranda thought; it ketter to accept, as she had not the faintest idea where- to go in the great city, and she had no w|sh !1 to " spend all her money ; at on;ce, / and ' find : herself /homeless, friemdless, and stat.ving, Mr and Mrs Parker were, very kind to her, and treated her as one of ; themselves ;,but the work was extremely distasteful to Miranda, who still retained her pride;- though she fancied she had conquered it when she came down to earning her daily bread in the family of a re tired baker, as lady-help. Nobody liked Miss Matson, as she called herself. Her : wedding-ring lay at the bottom of the Pool at Bristondell, and she considered she had therefove renounced all claim to being called Mrs. She was far from willing, knew so little of housework that good Mrs Parker had •generally - to show her the most ordinary duty, and eaded not infrequently by doing it altogether her- ' self. The least attempt at faultfinding, and the lady-help either sulked or flew ints a rage. Fifty times a day did her mistress declare she could not put up with her temper, and fifty times a day did she resolve to be more patient. At last she wrote and told her daughter that she had done 'her best for her disagreeable friend, and that she really was going to send her packing this time; And the daughter told her to do so by all means, Miss Matson was no friend of hers. : So Miranda left the Perkers, and

determined to go to Sydney ■ there she would be still further from England, and safer from any chauce of being recognized. But she was mistaken. Walking down Pitt-street one afternoon, her thoughts full of an advertisement she had inserted in the Melbourne papers, offering her services as housekeeper to a gentleman, or amanuensis, or any place of trust, she suddenly came face to face with Philip Brown. She knew him in an instant, but fortunately \yas too much surprised to betray any sign of recognition, and they passed each other. Did he guess, who. she was? Anxious beyond measure to solve this important question, Miranda paused, and under pretence of looking into a shop-window, glanced nervously back. Philip was > still standing where she' had left 'him, tab .extremely ptizzjed expression on his face, his eyes fixed on her. She felt certain as he moved ■:towards her that he was going to address her, and parting quickly through the, throng of foot-passengers,; stopped a passing .■■trauiji and disappeared as she fondly hoped, from his view. " By Jove," muttered , that astonished gentleman, Mr Philip. Brown, " then ray surmise was correct, after all, she did not drown herself, no, she was too great a coward, but she tricked us ail-finely. But I must follow her, I have a little account to settle with the'dear lady," and hailing a,hansom he jqmped in, and directed the driver to follow the tram which contained his prey. After dismissal by the brothers Briston, Philip had : found life a hard struggle, until' he fell in with a young gentleman, who was possessed of plenty of money and quite willing- to be shown the best way of getting rid of it. Mr Brown was a.capital teacher, and paid himself liberally for all the instruction he imparted to the generous pupil. But one day he helped himself rather t»o freely to what was somewhat more than his ordinary commission; in fact he neglected the interest and took a large part of the capital. The pupil remonstrated, and threatened his teacher with the terrors of the law, alleging that he had been made to sign cheques for. immense sums when he was intoxicated, and that in common fairness Mr Philip Brown ought to tear them up. But as Philip only laughed at his inno- ; cence, the ; young man took counsel with a friend, who told him to put the matter in his solicitor's hands, meanwhlie advising the bank not to cash the cheques. But on arriving at the bank he was told, that the amount in question had been paid to a gentleman not an hour before, and his balance was therefore at a very low figure, indeed. His solicitor was not very sympathetic, telling; him it served him right for. selling shares, etc., without 1 first consulting him. Pinding himself, very comfortably off, Mr Brown; lost no time in .changing his name; and embarking on; a good steamer for Melbourne. He had'hardly teen'there, a week when he encountered Miranda. She was greatly altered, and he was not .positive thai it was really Mrs Matthew Briston, or merely a chance, likeness; anyhow lie would follow her and see. She left the tram, and made her -■way. to the Union Company's office, and Philip, passing in with the '.crowd and unpercei'ved by Miranda, heard her ask when the next boat left for New Zealand. "In a couple of hours, miss." She asked the fare to Auckland by the steerage, and the clerk told her. there were some Chinese on board, and she would find it crowded and uncomfortable. She accordingly. took a saloon ticket under the name of Miss Smith." ' Philip was still more puzzled, and concluded that he too would like to visit Auckland. The boat left Sandridge punctually, and Miranda went at once, to her berth, feeling that she had managed, to out-wit her enemy. What was her horror on going on deck the next morning to sed him calmly leaning against the starboard bulwarks, chatting .pleasantly to one of his fellow-passengers. He did. not perceive her, so she went down into the saloon, to think what she had better do. Remain in her cabin the whole voyage? But there was every indication of a fine trip, and the confinment.below would be unendurable. Besides, if i he had really come after her he would wait about the gangway on arriving in Auckland, and speak to her there. No, her best plan would be to feign that she did not know who he was, and to stick to it that her name was, and always had been, Miss Smith. She went into her cabin, combed her own hair down in straight lines on either side of her face, washed off the rouge with which she had again begun to improve the bad complexion unkind nature had bestowed on her, supposing she too, had made up her mind to extend the Indian trip as far as New Zealand, went boldly on deck. This time Philip saw her, but did not at once recognise her iu her altered dress, for Miranda was too wise to wear the clothes in which he had seen her in Collins-street. She sat down and opened a book, but was far too much excited to read a line. Philip walked slowly past her and scanned her face, but

he was greatly puzzled. There was undoubtedly a certain something in her appearance that seemed familiar, but he could not be at all sure that it was not his fancy. He determined to watch her. - On the third day he tried to offer her a few of the ordinary civilities a gentleman frequently bestows on. a lady when he sees sho ia travelling alone, such as getting her a rug from the steward, or offering to carry her wraps up the companion-ladder, but all these trifling attentions Miranda ungraciously refused. - He tried to talk to her, but she immediately got up. and walked away, and he could not well force his company upon her. The last night at sea he got desperate, and resolved on a [ bold stroke. It was a lovely even*Ug> and -Miranda was. enjojang a little nap in a comfortable lounging chair, when she was = Startled by her "i name uttered in a lovv. tone at her: .-side.-' ; ■ /■- "Miranda." She opened her Oyes in ccnst'ernali'oh,'wondering for the moment .if she 1 were biick : at .Bristondell, then she saw Philip, sitting in another 1 deck chair at her side. A low mocking laugh escaped him, and he said. "So it is really you, after all; 'pon my word, you are a clever woman, Mrs Matthew Briston." Miranda's heart almost stopped beating, but she managed to rise from her seat and say, " I have not the least idea who you are, but if you do not leave me this instant, or if ever you attempt to address me again, I shall complain to the captain." , Her tremulous tones were the best possible disguise for her usually shrill voice, and as she sank back in her chair, Philip mistook the action fot indifference and walked reluctantly away. "If she had been really Miranda, she would have screamed or fainted, but there she sits," he muttered, looking towards the supposed Miss Smith, who had not moved simply because she could' not walk, her knees trembled so. " She is only annoyed. I suppose I ought to have apologised, but then I've given up all that nonsense, and, after all, I wouldn't swear it was not Mrs Matthew. It's just her height and her walk too," he added, as he saw her at length rise slowly from her chair and make her way to the companion-ladder, down which she disappeared, and he did not see her again until they arrived at the Auckland wharf. Then she got into a cab and was soon out of sight in the bustle of Queen-street. But she did not stay in that city ; the next morning she went by train into the country. (To be concluded'iu our next.)'