HAWTHORNDEAN.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 183, 29 September 1876, Page 6

HAWTHORNDEAN.

CHAPTEft XVIII. BEMI>'ISCE>"CES. Eosixe's heart was aching sorely for her friend, but she was at a loss what consolation to offer ; she drojjped on her knees by her side and laying her head gently on ber lap she whispered, " Our dear Lord is ' merciful, aud Father Roberts says one act of perfect contrition, one earnest desire for the sacrament of baptism, •where it cannot be had, may save the soul in the hour of death." " That is my ouly hope, dear," replied Dora, looting up ; then pausing awhile, she addeJ, as sho felt the hot tears of her friend drop slowly on her hand, " I have talked to you too much in this strain, you will pass but a sad day with me." " 1 like to hear of him," said Eosine, wiping her eyes, " I knew there must be something very sorrowful about this friendship of Ned and your brother, for when 1 asked the Doctor why he had never told me of his friend, he answered iv his gruff way, ' because I must not be sympathised with,' and his step and manner when he said it, showed he was suffering most keenly." " Good, noble Ned," replied Dora, I daresay he lougs for your sympathy, but less unselfish than I am, he would dread making you unhappy. Try to comfcit him if you can, Eosa, tor bis young "lift* •was eadly blighted. But I wish you' to know Harry," she added, changing tlie subject for fear of returning emotion, and opening the locket she had shown her fiiend in a former interview. "He is not like Earnest, but a brave, fine fellow, with a conscience like the purest crystal. I expect him here before long, you may be sure he will be in haste, for never was tl ere a heart that beat more fondly for his own home and friends. Havk ! that sounds like a salute," she continued as the noise of a heavy .cannon reverberated across the water ; "he will come here at once, and he must not find me in tears," she said, going to the mirror to arrange the dark braids of her hair. Kosine gave a little brush to her own locks, as she sat looking far out into the sea, wondering if she should really know ' that gentleman/ and if he recognise would her. In all her visit sto her friend she had mot once met the Cemmudore, and her dnad of meeting him was much increased by the recital of the morning, but to day she was doomed to encounter his dreaded presence. Before the echo of the guns announcing the anchorage of the man-of-war hud died away, he entered. She had imagined a bold, piratical looking gentleman, and her astonishment was great when she saw a short square built figure iv an undress, his nether garments tucked into hit long boots, and his cloeo cap preeied

down over his heavy brow. His thick mass of gray hair, together with an immense grizzly beard and moustache, gave his face a somewhat savage look. A broad, self-assured chin, and long Roman nose, told of a powerful will ; in his eyes alone, which were very dark and lustrous, Rosine saw a resemblance to his daughter. She was gaxing down the bay with the telescope when he entered. ""Well, Dora," he said, coming towards her and clapping her on the shoulder, "do you see him? That's his -ship just anchored — wants heavy repairs. I hope we may bring the boy to reason yet before she's ready for service. But who have you here ?" he added «»* she laid down the glass and brought Rosine forward to introduce be f - At the first sight of the young girl the Commodore's face lighted up, and he prepared as bland a smile as could be painted on bo rough a visage, but at the name " Miss Benton," there was a change, the frovftfi^^ returned, and he drew back, bowing very slightly, freezing Eosine in an instant. He turned away from her at once, and continued his conversation with his daughter. " I have business in town immediately, and shan't be here when he comes up to the house ; but you'll see him, and if ycu wont back up your old father in this matter, just hold your tongue and say nothing." With this he went to the door, Dora following ; in the hall there were more words, a loud voice, oaths, and angry tones. It was some moments before Miss Greenwood came back, and when she entered, it was from the oratory, her face very pale, and her lips quivering. She did not renew the subject of her brother's return, but brought out cabinets filled with the treasures of land and sea, precious things with strange devices from foreign lands, which she explained to her ' young friend, entering into the subject with deep interest, and never pausing till she thought her companion's mind was turned from the unfortunate interview with her father. Eosine little suspected th&t she had been the cause of *11 the loud talking ,in the hall ; the ComI modore having guessed she was Philip Beuton's daughter, cursed every branch of the family, as belonging to the man who had defrauded him of his hard earnings ; he swore his children were ungrateful brutes, they chose their friends from those who had wronged him 1 every way ; taunted Dora, with her early predilection for his enemies, vowed he w ould marry again and cut off his children with a young family. The quiet dignity of bis child as she met this tirade, awed the old man in the midst of his wrath, little did he know or care for her after struggles in the oratory, with a heart that rebelled against a ! life filled with these grating elements. ' The ladies had just finished their lunch, which was ordered in the sunny parlor, when the sister's quick ear caught the sound of a football on the pavement, and a springing step on the stairs, and in a ■ few moments she was clasped in her brother's arms. ! "Thank God! I am with you," he exclaimed; "and a free man," he cried, embracing her a second time. " Harry, my own dear brother, God be praised," she replied, bringing him forward to Eosine, and introducing her as " her dear young friend." ; " Excuse me, sister," he said, after the first formal greeting ; " I ', have met this young lady before ; her face is not readily forgotten." Eosine blushed crimson as he held out his hand again, saying, " Let's 1 shake hands for old acquaintance sake ; I could not but remember the fair — the flower table. By the way, Dora," he continued, observing the confusion into which his remark had thrown Eosine, " what's this ! I hear of Aleck Hartland ? Clandestinely married to Captain Mar- , ten's daughter ! Captaiu Jones told me as I came up. Is it true ?" " There is no doubt of it, I believe," replied Dora, "and it has caused a great deal of very unnecessaiy talk." " People will talk when men do such astonishingly silly things. What on earth had they to prevent the marriage being made public ? lam eorry for Aleck. His ship has been ordered direct to the Gulf of Mexico, and will not come home first, as we have done." Dora changed the subject to the fair and the flower table, and \ the three laughed merrily over the odd volume of Jane Eyre. Eosine ' related how carefully Ned had secured the other, and Lieutenant 1 Greenwood declared with true gallantry that he " should never part ' with the mate. Alone for a few moments with his sister, he made further inquiries of Aleck Hartland's marriage. ] " She seems to be quite alone," said Dora, " with no protector, ! her father being ordered away again. There is, as you have heard, { a great deal of scandal about her ; but she has lately of her own freei will gone to stay with Sister Agnes, which looks well, certainly. 1 Colonel Hartland's family hare quite cut her ; it seems a pity, such a young, motherless girl." " I will call upon her there with you, for Aleck's sake," replied^. j ber brother. "lam certainly bound to believe nothing bad of hir,- ! wife till he believes it ; however, all my memory of Laura Marten is of an abominable flirt. Why, she had the air of a coquette when I was only a middy ! I rather wonder at Aleck, and yet no, I dont ; ! such quiet unsuspicious men are sometimes the first to get taken iv ; > I and I have heard that Laura was very fascinating." 1 , The sun that had shone so brightly when Eosine left home, had • become gradually obscured, and snow began to fall quite fast before '> she was ready to return. Lieutenant Greenwood insisted upon seeing i her to the Colonel's door, although she repeatedly assured him she i ' could find her way perfectly, it was not nearly d*rk, and she was so I accustomed to the route. " Bnt this short wintei-'s day will come to ! a close, Miss Benton, before you reach home, and it will be quite dark ; . ' the coaches too run very full at this hour, uncomfortably so for alone ' lady a besides, at least while I wear these," he laughingly added, point - J ing to his shoulder-straps, " I could not suffer you to run any risk of 5 being benighted, without danger to my reputation as a soldier." t Eosine was truly thankful when she entered the crowded bus, 1 that she had a protector, for men and boys had taken most of the c I seats, leaving a woman with a babe in her arms standing, and an old 3 i man leaning on his crutch. Harry Greenwood soon shamed two stout 1 ' fellows into vacating their seats for these, but all his logic was unsuct cessf ul in securing a place for Eosine ; so she stood by his side, his * arm supportiug her in the rough jolting, till they were safely landed Ii at Colonel Hartland's tomse. The Colonel rubbed his hands with de-

light when the young couple appeared, nnd laughed heartily, as he said, "To think how Ned will snarl, ho having just started in his chaise for Eosine. I told him," said the Colonel, "to wait patiently, for wi'h such a body of loynl soldiers as you have at the Navy Yard, one could be found as nn esiurt iur a lady, but I own I didn't expect to see you as knight-errant, my fine fellow. What about the cornmissiou. Don't you know, Harry, if you give up that, you lose a great chance with the ladies ? They siy these are a great attraction ;" he added, laying a hand on each of the young man's shoulders. The Lieutenant returned the joke by saying, " If shoulder-straps were the magnet, they were welcome to his auy day, but for himself — why that was another question — he must own he was as yet free." The Doctor came hurrying home about five minutes after the Lieutenant had taken leave. "So you gave me the slip completely," he cried to Eosine, as he brushed the snow from his coat over the Turkey carpet, and shook his wet hat over the polished grate ; " you have given me a long, cold, disagreeable ride for nothing, and run away with ' that gentleman ' into the bargain. I shall charge you for this." "Don't be so very cruel, Ned," she said, coming towards him and taking hii outer garments. "It vexes me to find him gone, too," he added. " I saw his Captain to-day. He says the Navy can't afford to lose such as he, and begged me to use my influence to recall his resignation — bah ! — if I influence him, it will be on the other tack. The Commodore can't hate me much worse than he does already." " Did you see Dora f" inquired Eosine, without a thought what she was saying. Dr. Hartland looked at her intently and then replied, " Only for a moment — we were exceedingly gracious to each other ; she regretted I should have had so much trouble — and so forth — but, Eosa, you ■were Binging something very sweet when I came in, what was it ? Try it again for me." " A little Gerruan'song Dora gave me," she replied, going to the piauo. " I think it is nice, only somehow I like to sing it best when I am alone." "Imagine me a cabbage then," he said, " and let's have it." " The long, long weary day, la passed in tears away, And still at evening lam ■nfteping, When from my window paut>. 1 gaze on uight again, I still am weeping, My lone watch keeping. " When 1, his truth to prove. Would trifle ■with my love, He'd say, ' For me thou. shalt be -weeping ; When at some future day, I shall be far away, Tliou shalt be weeping Thy lone^watch keeping.' " " Don't 6ing that sentimental English nonsense," cried the Doctor, interrupting her ; " give us the original, it will awaken memories of ' fader land,' for I heard it first in Germany." " I can't trust myself to sing German yet," she replied : " I will learn, on purpose to sing this to yon, but I must finish it in English :" •he sung— " But, nh, my love is dead. To Heaveu his life has fled ; He was with heart and aaul mine only, I ne'er shall see him more, My grief will ne'er be o'er ; I must weep only, Be ever lonely,"