[COPYRIGHT STORY.] THE NEW CHAUFFEUR

New Zealand Graphic, 6 April 1907, Page 28

[COPYRIGHT STORY.] THE NEW CHAUFFEUR

By

LADY VIOLET GREVILLE,

Author of “Courtesy and Freedom,” Etc.

ALFRED and Julia adored each other. lie was dark and she was fair, and they were well matched in beauty and affection, though he was but a penniless officer, and she the daughter of a well-to-do merchant in the provincial town where Alfred’s regiment was quartered. They loved each other so fondly that they dared not contemplate life passed alone, lie was sure that if they parted, he would go abroad to fight and die in a foreign land. She was convinced that in that ease a broken heart would be her end. Hut they were young; life stretched out before them like some beautiful sunshiny plain, and it seined folly to talk of death, when glorious happiness might still be attained. Only, one great obstacle made them afraid. Julia’s father, a nonconformist, had solemnly assured her he would never eonsent to his daughter's marriage with any man but a business man like himself. As for soldiers, he abhorred war and despised their profession. In addition, Alfred was penniless. All he possessed was £ 100 a year, bequeathed to him by an old aunt, and his regimental pay. If he left the army, the latter would be forfeited. The two young people stood hand in hand, sadly meditating on these facts in the embrasure of the drawing-room window looking out over the gardens belonging to Julia’s father. The house reeked of wealth, solid undoubted wealth. The orchid houses overflowed with valuable plants, priceless old masters covered the -walls of the vast recept ion rooms, the line stables resounded with the weighings of handsome horses and the rolling of innumerable carriage wheels. What hearing could a poor young fellow- expect, who asked for the hand of the lovely daughter, and could bring no guerdon but an old name, a. gentlemanly bearing, an empty purse, ami an untarnished scutcheon’ The ease appeared hopeless, hut Julia felt she could never resign her handsome, honest, well bred lover for the sake of some prim, unsympathetic plain-visaged merchant, who would leave her to mope all day alone, and in the evenings regale her ears with talk of stocks and shares. Just then a splendid motor drove up the approach, and her eyes followed it absently. 'How well that chauffeur drives—see the neat wav he turns those awkward corners,’’ said Alfred, whose practised eye was eaught by an exhibition of skill. Hail he not often, and with considerable success driven the regimental coach himself *?

“ That is Lord Marchmont's motor,” Julia answered. “The driver is French, and I believe uncommonly well paid.” *’lndeed.” Alfred seeinirl lost in

thought. “ What is it, Alfred. Won’t you speak

to me, are you already sorry you love me—darling- you don't regret?”

“ Never—listen. Julia—did you say you knew- your father would only give you to a man who is a worker? ” “ Y’es —the self-made man, he declares, rules the world. Ah, Alfred, if you could only do something great -something daring, something that would force him to respect yon — ” “ What can 1 do? ” said Alfred gloomily. “ Oh, think, dearest, think—you are so clever, so resourceful.” “ I have it—Julia, 1 must leave you now —things cannot go on as they aie. I am determined you shall be my wife, and I will find out a way, but for the present we must not meet — ” “Not meet!” Julia’s lips dropped, her eyes tilled with tears. “ Oh, Alfred, I cannot live without yon! ” “ If I come here often, your father will object, he looked stonily at me to-day “Not see you!” Julia clasped her hands despairingly. “ Not till I have deserved you. Not till 1 am a man after your father’s heart. It shall not be long, 1 promise, you — trust to me.” He embraced her hurriedly, if fondly, and Julia, left alone, felt that the. sun had ceased to shine. Lord Alarchinont was an authority on motors; In l possessed some of all sizes and capacities. No sooner had he purchased one than he exchanged it. for another, swifter or more perfect. His talk was all of gear, chains, horse-power, tubes, and boilers. Tie infected everyone he approached with his enthusiasm, and insisted on all his friends sharing in bis pet hobby. So he persuaded Julia’s father. who delighted in horses and owned a stable full, to buy a rnni-h-reeommend-ed ear of a new and pei’iected pattern. Chauffeurs, as we all know, are extremely tiresome and untrustworthy persons. Even Julia’s father, who governed his household with a rod of iron, was incapable of controlling the chauffeur’s vagaries. 'They are an ungrateful, idle, and overpaid race, anil, like pretty women, presume on their unrivalled position. Consequently chauffeurs came find went, dismissed summarily, alter several rebukes, at a moment's notice, some defiant, some indifferent, some insolent. some contrite, and some breath-

ing out threats of vengeance. Alfred knew this, and like a clever diplomatist, on this knowledge he formed his plans. Discarding his usual neat and gentlemanly dress, he obtained a month’s leave of absence from his regiment, frequented public-houses, and ehanging his whole mode of life began to associate with the chauffeurs of ihe neighbourhood. lie was not long in scraping acquaintance with the last chauffeur discharged by Julia’s father, who still lingered in the town, and was the very man, an ill-conditioned, black-browed, foul-mouthed foreigner, who had departed breathing - threats of vengeance. Him he questioned respecting the merits of the car, its peculiarities, weaknesses and virtues. At all hours of the day, Alfred and his new friend, employed in one of the garages, might be seen together, grimy-handed, with dirty clothes, oiling, tinkering, cleaning, grovelling like veritable slaves on the foul earth beneath the unwieldy, iilthv ears, dripping with oil and grease. Alfred’s extremely natty and fastidious habits disappeared entirely, his nails grew blaek and broken, his hands were eut ami hero and there skinned, scarred and raw, and with the shaving off of his neat well-curled moustache, it would have been difficult to recognise the dandy officer of a crack regiment in the workmanlike blouse of a begrimed engineer. Days passed. Julia despaired. Her lover seemed completely lost to her. She danced, dined and flirted without zest, moved about like a disembodied spirit, and cried herself to sleep at night. Her father made no further observation on the disappearance of Alfred, than that he supposed at last the Colonel had decided to keep those idle officers a little more strictly to their tasks, as he had seen none of them dangling their long legs about the place, lately. Julia winced, but hoped, as a fond, faithful woman will hope, that some day’ all this misery would work out to a good end. One day her father announced that he had engaged a new chauffeur, who seemed more intelligent and modest in his demands than the. previous ones, and invited her to come out for a drive and test his prowess. Julia, slack of step and languid in manner, proceeded upstairs to don the little cap, and wind round her pretty face the bewitching folds of white chiffon which constitute the correct motor mode, ami contribute to the charm and mystery of female nature. The chauffeur held out his hand Io as-

sist her in entering the car according to custom. His attitude was perfectly correct and respectful, yet Julia was struck by- something in him which reminded her of a dear familiar figure. He looked impassive and businesslike, and after a second wistful glance she felt ashamed of her momentary hesitation. Her father critically examined everything as they started. The new man was smart and neat, with a military precision about him that bespoke the greatest care, hi? drove admirably, with a mixture of decision, dash, and prudence that appealed favourably to his employer. The brass appurtenances of the car shone brilliantly in the sunshine, and everything looked spick ami span and faultless. The next day and the next they drove out, and the same faultless conditions were repeated. After a. week Julia’s father grew tired of his new toy, and pleaded the pressure of business when the ear came round. Julia went alone. She enjoyed the noiseless spin, the fresh air beating against her eheek, the sensei of solitude and liberty, and the possibility of letting her thoughts wander unobserved to the ever-favourite topic— Alfred’s love. To-day, as they passed over a bleak, wild moor, where the heather grew rich and rank, ami the cry of the pee-wit sounded hoarsely, the chauffeur suddenly turned round, and for the first time addressed her, inquiring respectfully if she were comfortable. “Perfectly,” she replied wondering, the tones of the man’s voice sounding familiar in her ear. “Is this the speed you like, or would you prefer to go faster.’ ’ “Yes, faster faster always on and on.” She held her breath. She looked again and again the chauffeur. She felt as in a dream, speeding thus through the keen, autumn air. 'Then catching hold of his hand impulsively, “Alfred,” she murmured.

“Hush!” He stopped the motor, and gave her fingers a slight pressure. ‘’Remember I’m Tennant, the chauffeur.” “But, why -why?” she was breathless with excitement. “Don’t ask, dearest, and don't talk f<s

me, only remember I am trying to deserve you, trying to be a man after your father’s heart—always near you, always watchful and loving.”

Julia leant back blissfully, wrapping her furs more closely round her, content to be silent.

After that the drives became a daily habit, a dear and priceless habit. Sometimes her father accompanied her, and

pleased her by bis praises of their new delightful chauffeur; sometimes she went alene, and spent peaceful hours dreaming Of the future." On these occasions she always spoke to Alfred, a few happy words of love, which kept her ealm and wellsatisfied till the next meeting. She would have been content to pass years litoe this, near her lover, resting on his aftection, conscious of his loyalty and devotion, wishing and caring for nothing more tangible. Those long, wild drives grew’ very dear to her, the bleak moorland seemed to blossom with the flowers of her fancy, the wide silent landscape in which she and Alfred were often the only living objects, took a firm hold of her imagination; the swiftness of the motion fanned her thoughts and pleased her impatience. To rush like this through space, they two alone, was a novel, a delicious, an unforgettable experience. All the world faded from her memory; the elouds and sky, the mountains and valleys, she and her- lover were monarchs of all.

Julia’s father now began to look very favourably on the chauffeur. “There’s a man after my own pattern, Julia,” he would say, “sober, respectful, hard-work-ing and self-reliant. His heart is always in his work. He will go far—l think I must raise his wages.” Julia’s heart beat with fond approval, and the blood coursed joyously through her veins. She had no wish to hurry, to anticipate, but just to live, and let ■her lover work out his fate. Meanwhile he was anxious aud troubled. He had certainly satisfied his employer, but he seemed no nearer to marrying his daughter. Only some lucky circumstance would help him, some chance by which ho could show the mettle that was in him. This young man, who had ridden fearlessly in steeplechases, who was a noted polo player, a daring rider, longed for a spice of danger, the whip to his slack pulses, the impetus to desperate deeds. To drive a lady out for her daily constitutional, and clean the ear afterwards might be duty, but was not adventure, the kind of adventure for which his heart lusted. Julia was content, with the woman’s happiness in the

present, that fears lest something should hap]>eu to cloud the perfect peace, but the man grew restless. Excitement, that was what he wanted. It came at last, though not exactly in the iorm he anticipated.

Julia had acquired, like most amateurs, the craze for speed. The swiftness of the machine seemed to help her thoughts and give her a new sensation. Alfred drove skilfully, and as carefully as the great pace Julia insisted on avowed. Hitherto they had eseaped all accidents, and Julia became day by day mor e reckless. “ Faster,” she would urge, “go faster.” Alfred dared not remonstrate in the presence of her father, who seemed indifferent to danger, and gradually he himself began to believe in his lucky state. Julia, folded in her warm wraps, her eap pressed tightly on her head, felt the keen air cool her cheeks with exquisite delight. It was so perfect an enjoyment, she only wished it would last fcr ever. The drives lengthened more and more, the pace increased until whole days passed in this roar and excitement, which resembled dram-drinking or the inhaling of some Eastern herb in its witchery and strange mysterious joy. Some of the roads in the neighbourhood were very steep, rude declines and sharp curves broke the monotony of their progress, indeed one or two were marked dangerous by the society which watched over the welfare of bicyclists ami motors. At first Alfred sought to avoid these, a mishap to the lady of his love must be deprecated at all costs, but Julia resisted. “What, not go there! There is no danger, and if there were 1 know Lord Marchmont came down this way yesterday, and he was telling me all about it, and how well his chauffeur drove —surely you are capable of his feats—” Alfred bit his lip. To measure himself against Lord Marchmont’s chaffeur was his ambition, hut then there was the risk to Julia. He dared not take it on himself, her father must decide.

“What do you wish, sir?” he asked, turning respectfully to his employer. “ Obey my daughter,” he replied shortly. Alfred threw one anxious glance at

Julia. A keen smile played over her featnres. She was net afraid, but :f anything did happen, she possessed full confidence itt her lover’s science ami presence of mind.

At first Alfred, threading the steep hills and turning the sharp corners, drove slowly as his instinct bade him, bid when they fame to a long hill that ended with a curve that led to a small bridge, Julia liade him put on speed. He remonstrated, she commanded.

“Just look at this lovely ex]iam+e.’ she cried. “There is nothing in sight—• oh, hurry, hurry! ” The hill was indeed long, and the impetus became tremendous. Alfred was on the alert for the curve at the bottom, and the narrow dangerous bridge, but his attempts to slacken speed were perpetually foiled by Julia's entreaties. As they turned the corner lie beheld a cumbrous waggon with four horses almost across the road. He blew the warning horn, aud noticed that there was just room to pass, when at Unit instant a child ran from behind the cart. To

avoid injuring it, Alfred drew aside a little, the ear swerved, touched the side of the bridge, reeoiled from the violence of its impact, swayed and overturned. Julia’s father lay under the ear, Alfred, dazed and giddy with pain, saw to his horror Julia fall over the parapet and into the swiftly rushing stream. In an instant, taking a header into the water, he reached her struggling form, held her up tenderly, and swimming with failing strength, landed her at last safely on the bank. When her father, unhurt, extricating himself with some difficulty from the debris, looked around, he saw hidaughter swooning, with closed eyes and dripping garemnts. in the chauffeur's arms. “ She is safe, thank God! ” said Alfred, white as a sheet, covered with blood, ami almost faniting with pain. “And yon —Are you hurt?” said his employer. “Only a little,” but his ghastly paleness belied his words. They drove home in a spring cart which was fortunately procured from a neighbouring farm, and Alfred was the

only one who suffered from the effects of the accident. Juba's father escaped with, a few bruises; she bet-elf was unhurt, thanks to Alfred's courage ami promptitude; but he was severely cut about, and forced to keep his bed for a couple of weeks. Naturally he expected his dismissal for carelessness and bid driving, aud his anxious thoughts and wakeful nights contributed not a little to retard his recovery. Julia, on her part, lived in the wildest terror. Every day she inquired about the chauffeur's condition, but dared not write or communicate with him. She sent him flowers from the garden and luseioiis fruit from the hothouses, and hoped that, he woidd realise her anxiety amt watchful care from these offerings. Her father bad never mentioned the accident, his brow was clouded and he looked absent and annoyed. Julia felt sure that his first act would Im to send away the chauffeur, but so long as the latter remained seriously ill, nothing could Ire done. At last, the decisive day arrived. Julia found her father in the library surrounded by papers. Seeing him busy, she turned to have the room, when his voice. dear and decided, stopped her. “Julia,* he said, “the eluinffenr is well again, and 1 have sent for him hi re.” “Yes, papa,” were the only words she could utter. “1 suppose yon know that owing to your rashness we were al! nearly killed ?” “The chauffeur drove well,” she murmured. “Of course he drove well, hut such a thing must never happen again. He. ought to have known b i ter than to gratify a silly woman’s wild caprice.” "I am sure he did all he could,” she urged in a passion of anxiety. “Certainly, but “You will discharge him?” “What do yon think? He saved your life—my daughter’s life - would that be a fit reward?” “Oh, no, Papa- then you do think well of him?”

. “I think he is a brave, modest young man, and better worth rewarding than my own foolish girl—” "Oh, Pupa!” _ , •‘Shall 1 offer him money—how much? You shall decide.” r “Xo. no, Papa,” said Julia, flushing, “not money—” ‘‘No, I agree with you, we cannot offer him money. What a contrast is a superior, refined, quiet, sober man like that to the silly popinjay of a young officer, who came here courting you. Ah, ft’s work alone, the work of brains and hands, that makes a true man —a worthy man.”

"Then, Papa, you stand convicted on your showing. That chauffeur you appreciate is the very, same young officer who has done all this for my sake. He loved me. lie worked for me. he saved my life, and now let him have his reward. Let ns both be happy—let me marry him.”

The girl pleaded eloquently, and her eloquence was not lost on her father, a shrewd man of the world.

Thus it came about that when Alfred appeared, obedient to tiis summons, and prepared to receive instant dismissal, Im found his beloved one smiling and tearful, while her hand was gently placed in his. with a few kindly, broken words of gratitude from her father. A Hutter of excited gossip filled the country at the nows of the? engagement of the handsome young officer to the merchant's daughter. Unfortunately, it also became incumbent on Julia’s father to find another chauffeur.