A RUNAWAY MATCH.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 34, 22 August 1891, Page 304

A RUNAWAY MATCH.

BY

JEANETTE LINDEN.

OU were asking about John Aikin. You had not gone to China, had you, when his windfall came ’’ * Inheriting his uncle’s property, do you mean ’ It was just before I left. What a pompous old jackass he was, to be sure, but his daughter was a little darling. ’ ‘You are right in both statements ! Take another cigar. But if you thought John Aikin pompous when he was schoolmaster at Eyreville, you should have seen him after he came into pos-

session of ten thousand a year and his uncle's splendid home. I’ve heard of people you can’t “ touch with a forty-foot pole,” and he was surely one of them. Airs ! To see him riding about in his open barouche and bowing to bis neighbours, was a study of condescension for an emperor. And poor little Polly had a hard time of it.’ * When didn’t she have a hard time of it? There wasn’t a boy in the school who didn’t pity Polly, if she was the schoolmaster’s daughter. When we were all out shouting and playing, we could see her, buried in a big check apron, resting from Latin grammar and Euclid by beating eggs for her father’s puddings, or roasting herself over a hot fire cooking his chops. Why, he actually let that mite of a girl black his boots. I have seen her do it!’ * You never would have imagined it, however, if you had met Miss Aikin for the first time at Aikin Place. Aikin Place was what the ex-schoolmaster called his uncle’s house, as soon as it became his own. And poor little Polly never had a harder time cooking his chops and blacking his boots than she had in acquiring the dignity he considered proper in his daughter’s position. To see his frown when she nodded to an old friend, instead of sitting stitHy erect and inclining her head half an inch, was to know something of the child’s daily martyrdom. She must never walk in the roads or lanes—Miss Aikin’s carriage was always at her command. She must never wear a dress in which she could romp or run—Miss Aikin’s wardrobe contained the richest silks and velvets. She must never run out to see an old friend, or invite one to tea—Miss Aikin made formal calls and gave stately entertainments.’' * Poor little Polly ! It must have been amusing to see the wee bright child trying to be a grand lady.’ ‘John Aikin allowed the business of the estate to remain in my hands, and I was a frequent visitor at the house. But never did he come down on bis stilts for me or allow Polly to forget one ruffle of her new dignities. Sometimes, if she chanced to be alone, I found the bright, unaffected Polly we all loved, but as soon as her father entered the room she froze. ’

* She was always afraid of him.’ • And yet she did defy him at last. You remember Will Marshall ?’

* Well 1 And,, bless me, he was Polly’s lover when she had not conquered the alphabet.' . ‘ And remained her lover eve/ after. That was the trouble. ’ * But what was the matter ? He was as fine a fellow as ever breathed, and old Marshall was rich !’ * IFas rich, you see. As long as Mr Marshall was one of the richest men in the state, Polly’s love affairs ran on smoothly. Will’s horse was fastened at the gate of Aikin Place every day, and many an hour Polly and he spent riding through the shady lanes about Eyreville. Not one word of opposition was made to their engagement, and if Polly ever did have any natural free enjoyment, it was when she was with Will, and away from her father. Her wedding cards were out, and Mr Aiken was preparing to astonish the country by the magnificence of the marriage festivities when old Mr Marshall'suddenly became bankrupt and committed suicide. At first it was supposed that the wedding was postponed out of respect to the memory of the bridegroom-elect’s father, but that idea exploded very speedily. Mr Aikin strutted about the village swelling with indignation at the villany that would have made his daughter the wife of a pauper.’ * Bless me ! how long was this after he ceased to be but a few removes from a pauper himself ?’ * About three years. Miss Aikin, he boasted, could marry anybody—the best in the land. But Polly did not want to marry anybody. Her ideas on that subject were very positive, and she wanted to marry W ill Marshall. There were terrible scenes. I was confidential friend of all the parties, and I was amazed to see what courage and spirit shy, timid little Polly possessed. The war lasted several months, and Mr Aikin pushed forward the claims of other suitors with great energy and perseverance. But Polly was as resolute as he was, and one morning took the train to York, met Will at the station, and was married by noon. I bad the telegram announcing that fact, with the request to “ Please tell papa.” ’ * There was a lively scene then, I imagine.’ *lt was awful. I have seen men in a rage, plenty of them, but I never saw such fury as John Aikin’s in my life. He was fairly livid.’ * I hate white rage. ’ ‘lt means mischief. John Aikin cursed Polly in terms that made me shiver, old lawyer as I am ; he swore that not one penny of his should go to Will Marshall if they both starved. ’

* That was not likely. Will Marshall was not a man to depend upon a rich father-in-law, were he ever so amiable.’ • No, but still—but I will tell you that afterwards. I did not send back the telegram John Aikin wrote out, because I am not a brute, but I sent one of my own telling Polly that her father was very angry, and that there was no hope of present forgiveness. I know she wrote several times, and her letters were tossed into the fire unopened. Then I lost sight of her for several years. In that time it became a sort of grim joke to me to draw up John Aikin’s will two or three times a year, and destroy it, to make anew one. I think 1 drew up at least a dozen, not one of which was ever signed. Sometimes he left his property split up into portions for fifty different charities ; sometimes he divided it amongst his relatives ; sometimes he left it in bulk to a

library ; sometimes to a hospital: but never one shilling was left to Polly or her husband.’ * But why did he never sign them ?’ ‘ Superstitious. He believed that signing a will always preceded speedy death. Why, there are w ills in this office my father drew up forty years ago, and the testators-to-be are alive yet. But I never told John Aikin that. I told him every yarn I ever heard about men who dropped dead going home from the lawyer’s after they bad signed their wills, all the cases of heart disease and apoplexy that followed their testamentary efforts. I knew if he died without a will Polly must inherit his property, and I wasn’t going to stand in Polly’s light if I could help it!’ • I see ! Did he die then ?’

* It was long after we had lost sight of Polly that people began to shrug their shoulders and talk in low tones about John Aikin. Nobody liked him. Such airs of superiority are hard to swallow in a free country, and there was not a man in Eyreville quite ready to eat humble pie to John Aikin. So when he began to show signs of mental weakness there were plenty to nod and wink and laugh behind his back. The first inkling I had was in the wild directions 1 got about his business affairs, and when one day I bad five directly contradictory orders in one note, I went for Dr. Hay. After seeing his patient he sent for a York physician, and they both decided that he was as “ mad as a March hare.” We introduced a keeper into the house as an old friend come to make a visit, and I undertook to find Polly. Little I knew the task it wouldbe. Letters were returned, visits to York were unavailing, and advertisements of the most urgent kind were unheeded. I was breaking down with the weight of responsibility, for Mr Aikin was in full bodily health, and cunning as a fox. I was in terror all the time lest he should do some mischief, and yet I had no authority for shutting him up in an asylum.’ * I should have taken the authority.’ * And perhaps he would have recovered in a month and sued you for false imprisonment. You see he was not a raving lunatic, and there were times when he was as sane as anybody. Just when I was getting desperate I received a letter written by the superintendent of an institution for the instruction of the blind, stating that having seen my advertisement, he wrote to say that he had had a man named William Marshall under his care, and thought he might be found if Iso directed. He was quite sure this William Marshall had a son named John Aikin, and thought it might be the man I was seeking.’ * Blind ! Poor little Polly !’ * I took the next train, and three days later I found Will Marshal], Polly, and their three children. You might well say poor little Polly then. Will had injured his eyesight by writing late into the night, earning a mere pittance as a clerk. He had never had any business training, and found it very hard to obtain any employment. I fear they came very near the starvation of which Polly’s father spoke, and that it was a want of proper nourishment that at last broke Will down with typhoid fever, from which he recovered blind. But this was after years of struggle, and when the youngest of the children was nearly a year old. Brave little Polly never lost heart. Will spoke of her as he might have done of an angel as be told me of her cheerfulness, her courage, her hopeful spirit that never broke under all the burdens laid upon it. She had taken in sewing, had tended in a store, had forty times turned every penny earned before spendingit. She had never let an opportunity to work pass by when her little hands could accomplish the task. When lat last found her she had established a school for little children, and managed to live on what she earned ; but it was well Will was blind. Could he have seen the pale little Polly who came in while he talked, with haggard face, gray hair and hollow eyes, I think his heart would have broken. Only the cheery ring of her voice was left of the Polly of old, and that, I am sure, was cultivated to meet Will’s ear. Shabby in dress, weariness printed on every line of her face, with three pale, thin children as shabby as herself, Polly wrung my heart, tough as it is. It took some argument to make her return to Eyreville, but she came at last, as my guest. To my relief and amazement, Mr Aikin received them all as distinguished guests from abroad. The best in the house was not too good for them, and I could supply money for all needs. Our first care was to place Will under the treatment of an oculist, who gave but little hope at first, but after a year of “ building up ” of the whole system, undertook an operation that was successful. By that time there was no question of Mr Aikin’s insanity, and the necessary legal measures to give his son-in-law control of his property were easily managed. He lived three years after Polly came home, never once recognising her, but sometimes insisting he was entertaining one royal visitor, sometimes another. They were very kind to him, humoured all his whims, and I think little Polly mourned sincerely when he died. But if you call at the house now, I am sure you will have cordial greeting from your old schoolmates, Will Marshall and

‘ I will certainly call. Midnight ! How time flies I There are a lot of other people I want to ask about, but if there is as long a story for each one as you have just told me, we must postpone our gossip until to-morrow.’ * Good-night, then. But, beware ! Don’t tell my clients that I gossip, or the results will be dreadful !*