Weekly Mail

-< VERILY, HIS NIECE! ——.—— p ■ A STORY OF CARDIFF. i ^"[SPECIALLY WRITTEN FOR THE WEEKLY MAIL.] I III TT f °f f baDk '1^ • KiQderate dimensions that It 11 hardly to be wondered at if he IT(G«!cVii\°eS Permifc bis wife m t ipVJjSrJD JJj) 1 f° ass^8t bitti, not only *a mpy/ in the saving, but also in the earning depart- ment. (i Mr. and Mrs. Ark- f\ ere11 Jones had ^een rnarrie^ nearly M .five years, and the latter was || (() (P$j very frank in owning, especially ?1;lf \n 3 when family matters were a !f 1 j gjk little raffled, that during all J *hat time she had only indulged L in two new dresses. Indeed, Jhers were three little ones, and house-rent f|n Cardiff is unreasonably high, and then f&da, her sister, who ought to have been a tgoverness, and pretended that she was by fgoing away with a family for a fort- night occasionally and returning with Inch fearfully swollen eyes and pale cheeks that Mrs. Jones hadn't the fieart to scold her—well, Ada always lived jpith them, but though the girl was good and industrious, aud the little one3 adored her, it inade one more to be provided for from a foever too abundant larder. f « Ada," said Mrs. Jones, as they sat together tin the recess of the little drawing-room window fin I'ichards'-terrace one pleasant evening late fin July, "Ada, I'm determined that horrid rMrs. Brown sh&n't cast her soornful glances tat my last summer bonnet any more, though ryou did do it np very well for an amateur, ^really bat, now, just think of her last Sun- p3ay. Because her tuft of jet and chiffon was s quite new, how she could rustle out her silk Fgown as she bowed to us, anyone would think ["the chapel, preacher and all, belonged to her." fi'i "I don't see," drawled Ada indifferently- for Too was quite used to listening patiently f/fco tiradea of this kind-u I really don't see ^where the money is to come from. You know Twhat Arkerell said." f £ Bah! Stop! What do single girls know ra'bout it," cried Mrs. Jones, angrily. But ;you see, dear (pooling down), the papers are 3fall of the British Association paying a visit fto Cardiff thia year. Now, supposing we were to let the drawing-room apartments just for ,.khe time, you know. They would be taken by a stranger to Cardiff, and we should not be [ effected socially at all." Ada stared at her sister in utter astonish- rtoent, Where would you reoeive your ^visitors ?" she gasped. j > "1 u»*« ll-*« «»'• m «.n <*«*+," r^xvlied her v sister. Emma" — Emma was the use- .{• £ sL.mai&TC^alHw1' rtfeni, "6'm [Explain that the carpet is up for the biannual cleaning, or-or-we need not be at jhome. Oh! I intend to manage it. I want the cash." She spoke with great determina- tion, and rose to leave the room. /1 I think, Ada," she turned at the door to .-day, I will write out an advertisement, and rio-morrow you can go down with it to the [ Western Mail Offices. We might receive an [Answer from a very nice couple, and strike up ;a lasting friendship with them. Who jtnows ?" Ada shook her head and sadly replied that f she didn't think ladies and gentlemen tonally made friends of their landladies." But Mrs. Jones's mind was thoroughly .made up. She would try# to let her rooms. ■^Consequently, the advertisement was care- fully drawn up, and duly inserted in both the <1Western Mail and Evening Express. And, jtest her friends should have the slightest ink- jjing of the terrible thing she contemplated by seeing Ada call for the replies at the offices tot the papers, the arranged to have them addressed to the care of a shopkeeper in the ^Broadway, who took no personal interest in either her or her affairs. Twioe Ada looked in vain for any reply, .but on Thursday, as she appeared—perambu- llator and all-at the grocer's counter, he • showed his white teeth as he laughed and ^banded her a large, square, lavender-tinted envelope, with a golden monogram beneath Some fiendish shape rampant and a London ^postmark. Ada's fingers itched to break the peal, bat she bad reoeived no suoh instruc- tions, and Mrs. Jones, with all her kind- jaeartedness, was a [fiery little woman. So, grith the preoioos letter clasped in her little |jhand, she bowled the baby along the Broadway unusual spaed, and never stopped to take "breath until she had dashed in upon her ^sister, who, in a large sun-hat and garden jgfelovea, was carefully weeding the flower beds Fin their little front plat. "I wish you would be less of a hoyden," MiaidMrs. Jones, and this fine afternoon you flight keep baby oat another half-hour. The jfdear", as the happy baby crowed and clapped is hands, and then a prolonged and half.. suppressed. O—o—oh" eaoaped her lips. Ada ,bad exultantly pushed the lavender-tinted Envelope right into her face. H Let us go inside," said Mrs. Jones. Come Emma, take the child." Then fihe and Ada shut themselves in the drawing- proom, and Mrs. Jones carefully turned the tfcey before she attempted to acquaint herself {pith the oontents of the letter. Ada half- |j3rew, half-poshed her to the couch, and leaned rt>ver her Bhoulder as she broke the seal. $Powis-gardens," read Mrs. Jones. "Now, iSrhere w that, Ada, aye ?" And she laid' iher hand deliberately over the letter that Ada Should read no further until she had answered ,Iber. Oh, somewhere in Belgravia, of course," rguessed the girl, all impatient to continue ^er perusal. Mrs. Jones pushed her hand from her Ifhouider and moved to the window, turning •tier back to the light so that it was impossible for Ada to overlook her. P Oh! Ada, a single gentleman. Only for jpimself! Oh Ada. Ada dear, what is his ?'' p Curiosity overcoming indignation, Ada Pushed forward and snatched the letter from fljer sister's hand. "It's Gabriel, Gabriel," softly repeated the [ tirl. "Gabriel, Miriam, Do you bear? (3Vhat a lovely name I f* Quite unlike the writing, then," sharply retorted Mrs. Jones, "I wonder how it is literary men never can write, Go on, Ada, pray go on with the name." "1-1 can't. I really can't. I believe he be asm &s&t sstrgamsr, used to star-gazing that he finds it beneath him entirely to draw his eyes down to such common things as sheets of paper even while he signs his name." 11 Don't try to be witty, but make out the name. Do, Ada, do? "Oh! I have it now," cried the girl triumphantly, it isn't a B, it's an M. Look Miriam. M-o-n-t-a-g-u-e. Gabriel Montague. Well," with a sigh and tossing down the note, what caligraphy Nevertheless,he's a gentleman, and single No women to pester with, and want constant attention and find perpetual grievances. And what nice arms and that mad oat." 61 Mad cat, indeed," laughed Ada. That's his crest. Shall I write, Mirrie, and say you'll have him certainly ? I should have time to post before tea." "Better show the letter to Arkerell first," Mrs. Jones prudently replied. For, like all women who are in the habit of managing entirely as they wish, she was very careful to ask her husband's opinion on the smallest matter of every day life. 01 Do as you like. Miriam," or "Just as you think best, my dear," was the reply she invariably received, and he was made quite happy, and assured of his position as master of the house in consequence. A fortnight had passed smoothly by. Arkerell Jones' consent had been gained to the arrangements his wife had made. The day had arrived on which the gentleman lodger was expected to take possession of Mrs. Jones' best rooms. She, poor little woman, was very fidgety. She told Ada, who was pale and agitated, over and over again, that she never had let lodgings before-that she did not know how she could endure a stranger in her house. She was glad, very glad, he wasn't a member of the association, only a friend interested," and so on. She had gone for at least the fifteenth time to take a "last" look at the arrangements she bad made for his comfort, and was about to summon Ada to assist her in just trying some new plan for the draperies of the dressing table when a cab stopped at her door, and a loud peal of the bell resounded through the house. She immediately re- sponded to the summons, and showed Mr. Montague in. Mr. Montague was a tall, stout man of something over 40 years, with thiok auburn whiskers, and frank blue eyes. He wore grey trousers, a plain black coat, and carried a tall, grey hat in his hand, as in the simplest manner possible he addressed her. Mrs. Jones ? Ah Yes. Ah I Nicely, very nioely. The bedroom ovep this ? Ah Thank you." The cabman would take up his things. Much obliged. He would dine in town and return about eleven, and the first awful minutes Mrs. Jones had dreaded so much were over. The gentleman had bowed himself out. The next morning, when he had break- fasted, Mr. Montague sent a polite message to Mrs. Jones. Would she be good enough to spare him a few minutes ? He was leaning back in an arm-chair, smoking, when she entered. He immediately rose, and, throwing away bis cxigar, begged she would be seated. "I really must apologise for so troubling you," he began, but you know I am Dot used to waiting upon myself, although for four years I have been a widower, and I don't understand these things. Last night I could not find anything-aud I should be so grateful, so very grateful, if you would kindly see to my unpacking and lay the artioles in order in the chest of drawers." II Oh! certainly, with pleasure,murmured Mrs. Jones. Here are the keys, and I hope you will excuse the trouble I am causing you." Again, as she left him, Mrs. Jones assured him the trouble was a pleasure, but the door QJ.1\iO oaftrljr 01(¡(¡od botwcco i>b. boO" changed. o x atn sure Arkerell could look after his belongings when he leaves] me for a few days' change. Ada," she called softly, Ada, what do you think?" and then she related to her sister the conversation that bad just taken place. Now, if the truth must be confessed, Mr. Gabriel Montague was the greatest disappointment Ada had ever experienced. From the moment she had, with much difficulty, become acquainted with his signature she had fully made up her mind that he was young, hand- some, and aingle. His appearance was really far from attractive. He was a little bald, and to these grievances he now added the terrible offence of having once possessed a wife. She, therefore, tossed her .head very saucily, and it took all Miriam's persuasive powers to reduce her to her usual state of submissive obedience when Mrs. Jones suggested that she (Ada) should see to the unpacking of Mr. Montague's clothes, However, once fairly started, she became extremely interested in her work. He could not be such a disagreeable fellow after all, thought she, or some girl who possessed very skilful fingers would not have taken such trouble to enrich his wardrobe with embroidered cigar and match cases, crewelled smoking-caps, wool slippers, and even delicately woven braces. And in the corner, always half hidden by a worked rose leaf or curved spray, she found the same initials" M. La T." so very, very finely traced that only a keen observer would have dis- covered them. Carefully folded in tissue paper she drew from the depths of his port- manteau an exquisite handkerchief satchel. The linings were of quilted white satin, and the white brocaded covers were appliqued with flowers of dainty and harmonious hue.. Now this," she said aloud, her cheeks aglow, must be from the woman who loves him." Tenderly she passed her light fingers over its elegant edges, and drew out a soented little note addressed, "To dear Uncle." The temptation was so great she did not give herself a seoond tp think. In lets time than it. takes me to refkte the fact she had been dishonourable enough to read it tht ough:— "PfU-i?, August, 1891. "Dear, dear Uncle,-Your lovely letter this morning brought some consolation; but, truly, since you left mo there lias boen for we neither music nor sunshine in Paris. I kiss again and again tha dear gloves you gave me, and which your own hands buttoned the first time I wore them. I have employed myself, as you see by the accompanying little gift. It is an eternity "until we meet. Your own loving niece, Milucemt La Tourette." A foot-sten, a band upon the door, and Miriam's voioe, Ada, how much longer do you intend to be?" made her hasten to push the note back in ita hiding-place, and, stoop- ing to tie her ahoe-laoe lest her sister should marvel at the tell-tale colour in her cheeks, she replied oheerfully, "I am just coming, Mirrie. Do look at the gay display I have made with his treasures." And then the sisters laughed together, and Mra. Jones thought he must be very effeminate, but Ada, strangely enough, did not mention the note. That evening Mr. Gabriel Montague pre- sented Mrs. Jones with a bunch of flowers, and asked her to spare her sister to acoom- pany him to the play. Miriam was about to refuse when Mr. Jones, entering from his daily occupations, interrupted the words she was about to utter, and accepted the invita- tion for Ada in a very frank and hearty manner. It will do her good, you know," he said. "She hardly ever goes anywhere but up and down the terrace with the kids." Mrs. Jones was quite sure that their minister would not approve. Then Ada, all excitement, flitted away to make the best toilet she could out of her thabbv and pft-turued ptfds and ends, She found, poor girl, with a groan, that every glove she could toss out was in some way crippled. When Cissy breaks her dolls," she sighed drearily, she tells them Go doll hospital.' I think these may Go glove hospital. Then she brightened considerably. She re- colieoted that only the previous week—pro- bably to cement a slight breach that had occurred through Arkerell's having appro- priated a trifle more than his usual allowance of pin-money—he had brought Miriam a pair of soft French gloves. Would her sister lend them her? Why, of course not. It would be luseless to ask. Miriam had only worn them once herself. But she would borrow them without leave. She would be so eareful not to soil them, and though Miriam's hands were a full size smaller than hers, the gloves were the very best make, and would be sure to stretch. Quietly she glided into her sister's room, silently extricated the gloves from their wrap- pings in Miriam's drawer, and, putting the last finishing touch to her hair before the glass, she slipped the gloves iuto her pocket and ran downstairs, Mr. Gabriel Montague was leaning on the gate. rl Good-bye, Miriam! Good-bye, Arkerell," oried the girl, merrily. "I mean to have a lovely time." 11 Put your gloves on," her sister replied, hardly looking up from the little sock she was darning. Nothing looks worse than putting gloves on in the street." Arkerell followed them out and closed the gate after them. Then she found Mr. Mon- tague asking her whether she would walk or ride, -1 Let us walk," she said. She had been fumbling horribly with her glove for some time. The wretched thing was so tight, and she didn't believe it would come together round her wrist." Shall I button it ?" Mr. Moniague asked. Oh I can manage it, thank you," and, turning slightly away, she gave the glove a vicious little tug, when, to her dismay, it split right across the back, at the same time burst- ing into tears. "Don't, don't,please don't," be said, looking to the right and to the left of him. "Letua go on. Surely there is a glove shop in town. To cry over a thing like that"—and he threw the tattered fragments away in the mud. Then drawing her arm through his, and re- taining her bare little hand in his own, they walked on at a brisk pace. "1 think, Mr. Montague"—Ada had con- trolled her emotion by this time—"I should like to go back. "Go back, if you really wish," he said, "certainly, but not on account of the gloves. We can get some more in a minute." Then she told him all: confessed what dreadful means she had had recourse to t.o possess those gloves. And now how could she re-plaoe them. He laughed softly to himself. "Give me the other glove," he said. I must get a pair the same size and shade, and with the same trade mark inside. They entered Howell's to make the pur- chase, and, when they had satisfactorily re- placed Mrs. Jones's loss, he bought three pretty pairs a size larger, which he gave to Ida as they walked along. I don't think I ever posseted three pairs of gloves at oue time before," she said. How kind you are," and then—was it the effect of the letter—" are you fond of giving people gloves ?" she naively inquired. Whab an odd question," he said but she fancied from that moment that his manner changed. The slight oloud was, however, quickly dispersed before the pleasure and amusement U. the pb.y at the iiuei/ tne opportunity of anything so delightful as a dramatic performance offered itself. A11 was so fresh and bright to her. She did not criticise. She could not compare. As one in an enchanted world, she sat only to enjoy. That night at supper Ada's merry laugh, her" witty repartee, her fun-provoking mimicry of all she had seen, her blushing cheeks and flashing eyes took quite by storm the heart of a young American, named Charlie Bryce, whom Arkerell had often taken home of late for a quiat game at cards. What became of Mr. Montague ? lIe might have brought you 'home," Mrs. Jones asked. He put me in a cab and excused himself, saying that be had promised to have dinner with a friend." L Now, I don't call that at all gentle- manly," said Mr. Bryce, who was a hair- dresser by trade. "See the ladies home, that's my motto." "But you don't see the ladies anywhere first, do you, Mr. Bryce ? asked Ada spite- fully. Well, really, you know I'm sure I should be delighted "Don't put yourself out of the way on my account," Ada retorted, as she wished them all good night. "Just like a man, she thought as she climbed the staira. U Poor little imbeciles, they can't rely upon their own judgment. To-night, for the first time, he thinks me worth looking at, just because Mr. Montague has taken notioe of me." A month ago Ada had been rather attracted by Mr. Bryce, who certainly was a dashing looking young fellow; but now, with the natural contrariness of a woman's disposition, she very much resented his attentions. She had no oppor- tunity that night of restoring Mrs. Jones's gloves. But under pretence the next mornin» of dusting her sister's room she managed to slip them into the right band drawer, having first stretohed and pulled them a little to make them look exactly like the pair she had destroyed. We can all remember with a feeling of intense resentment and x-eballion how crnelly the rain poured in August and spoiled the many pleasant social gatherings that, "weather permitting," had been so happilj arranged. But the weather was perverse, and, disappointed at the Castle garden party, Mr. Montague dined with an old scientific friend at the Park Hotel. Meanwhile the little household in Uichards- terrace had been much upset. Mr. Bryee was there to tea, and Arkerell hinted that he came for" metal more attractive now than cards." Mrs. Jones was nothing loth to help her sister to a happy settlement, especially as she knew that, though Mr. Bryce was not quite as polished as he might have been, the figures on his bank-book made a pretty show. A cab suddenly drove up, the bell pealed, and Ada, ignoring Charlie Bryce's frown |: and cool remark, "Only that Montague," pushed her sister aside and opened the door, to behold a sweet little brown fairy gazing frankly in her face. I want to see my uncle. He stays here, I think—Mr. Gabriel ] Montague." And without more ado she < walked right in. Which is his room ? I Ada could only silently point to the door. i The girl, lithe and plump and brown, with t large laughing brown eyes and ful], red, tender 1 lips, hardly gave herself time to grasp the t emptiness of the room before she re-appeared i He is not there," she said. Ob, uncle I l do want to see him so." ] Mirrie," said Ada, softly, putting her head s insida the dining-room, "here's his nieoe." I Whose niece ? oried Miriam. Well, ] there's nothing in that to look so scared about. f I'll go and speak to her." 1 "J[ want toøee him dreadfully," Aliss La j Tourette explained, when Mrs. Jones bad helped her to remove her hat. Then springing from the couch, wringing her hands, and walking up and down, I wonder will he be so very cross," she moaned. Do listen to me; do help me to gain his forgiveness, I have run away from school." From school, my dear ?'' I Yes, from school in France. I've been there just four years since aunty died, and I can't bear it. I won't bear it," and she stamped her foot. "I am nineteenJ you know," You neither look nor act much like nine- teen," said puzzled Mrs. Jones, wishing her gentleman lodger would only hurry home. I y But Mr. Gabriel Montague was at the ball, and it was not till towards midnight that he drove to luchards-terrace, little dreaming of the surprise that there awaited him. Ada had given up her room to Miss La Tourette, and made herself a temporary bed on the dining-room couch. HI daresay it will only be for one night," apologised Mrs. Jones to her sister. "He is sure to send her back to school to-morrow." Girls are not so easily sent about at nine- teen,replied Ada calmly. She had taken a violent dislike to Miss La Tourette. Perhaps, since that night at the play she had been building air-castles that threatened to vanish before this girl's presence. Certainly, she had not had much material with which to build them. A glance, a smile, a flower, a passing word, and two short quiet little strolls while- he enjoyed a smoke, and left the talkiug all for her to do-that was all. Mrs. Jones took her knitting in the drawing- room, and promised to sit up with Millicent until her uncle came. The gul was frankness itself. In less than twenty minutes Mrs. Jones knew all about her from her cradle up to date, and a good deal more of Mr. Montague than that gentleman himself would have revealed in half a century. "I was such a tiny little thing when my mother died, and from that time 1 always lived with Aunt Miliicent and Uncle Gab. I was about ten years old when my father died, struck down with fever in Calcutta. But I cannot remember him at all. Aunt Milly and my mother were sisters. I was named after auntie, and, so like her, people used to take me for her own ohild. I was so happy until aunty died. We always lived at Feltering Grange. 'Tis only five miles from the Great Western IJailway Sta- tion there to our gates. The little village of Llaniyrch is the nearest, if you go by rail — oh, such a lovely place, embedded in the woods, wbero all my early life I've nutted and gathered wild flowers, and my pony Gip could climb the hills and scamper off like wildfire. But when dear auntie died (here her voice broke) Uncle Gab had it all shut up and took me to this wretohed school in France." "Have you not seen your uncle for four years ?" Oh, yes He has been travelling hcre.there, and everywhere, but every six months he always came to Paris and stayed a fortnight or three weeks and took me everywhere. Only last July he left me, promising he would return in less than six months. But, oh, Mrs. June?," she cried, springing up and pushing from her smooth brow the soft folds of her silken-brown hair, this time it was more beautiful to have him than ever; and after he went I pined and pined. I could not eat, I could not sleep—Ah drawing back the lace sleeve from her rounded arm, You cannot think how thin I have become At the first sound of Mr. Montague's latohkey Mrs. Jones stole softly away. The gas-lights flooded the drawing-room, and the cheerful blaze of the fire shone through the opsn door. j • | — •*■ -1- v uvi uuuiOt DQ8 t-QTftW ner arms about hia neck j she sobbed out j-iojoro to bo fevgiven. "Milly, Milly, Milly, he grosned, as, push- ing her gently from him, he sunk into a low arm-chair. "This beats all your escapades." Then he lay back covering his face with his hand. She threw herself on the rug at his feet, seized one of hia hands, aud covered it with tears and kisses. 11 Uncle Gab, dear Uncle Gab," she cried, CI don't send me back. I won't go, I'H never leave you again. Only let me stay, I'll be your little slave, I'll mend your socks, I'll clean your boots. No, don't speak only say Milly, I'll never part from you again.' I don't see how it's to ba done. You for- get you are a woman now." You forget I am a woman. At my time of life shut up in a convent school in France Ob, (Jncle Gab, I thought, I hoped you loved me." "My little Milly," he said gently, drawing her to him in a close embrace, "you know that you are all the world to me, but what am 1 to do with you ? You are not really my niece; only poor Millient's." "Uncle Gab," she whispered softly, there's nothing in the Prayer Book to forbid. Why don't you marry me ?" They bad never thought of the door ajar. With clenched fists and soornfully curling lips, Ada bad witnessed the whole scene. "Conning little mmx," she muttered as she twisted her last curl in place, 11 to hide the wisdom of nineteen under the frankness of a child of seven." Well," said Mrs. Jones early next morn- ing, as she thrust her head round Miss La Tourette's door," when are you going back Milly laughed softly, and a triumphant smile parted her rosy lips. "Never, never, never, Mrs. Jones. He's going to marry me and take me home to Feltering Grange. But, mind"—here she looked very solemn and shook her forefinger in Mra. Jones' face—" I had to ask him." "It's not at all what I intended," said Mr. Montague, as he was bidding Airs. Jones "good-bye" on the 2nd of September out- side the porch of St. Margaret's Church, where quietly, close on the stroke of eight, Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Montague had been made one. "I should have liked Milly to have seen more of life before she settled down with such an old moustache as I am. Guardian uncle, and bridegroom all in one." You must not talk like that now," Milly said. I have already forgotten every other title in the one dear name of husband. Ada, good-bye, it will" (and this a little saucily) be your turn next. Good-bye, Mrs. Jones. We shall return, you know, to spend our Christmas at the dear old Grange, and you must come out and stay with us as often as you can." Ada, with something of defiance still lurk- ing in the corners of her flashing eyea, as she watched the happy pair drive off, was over- heard to whisper, hardly above her breath, Ah verily, his niece."