Teawas ready when Beatrice returned home and she drew in her chair and clustered round the table.
"Well, what is your dress like?" asked Mrs Langton as she passed the butter to her husband.
"Oh it is lovely Mother" answered Beatrice,"and oh Father" she continued, "I bought some jewellry too!"
"Jewellry" cried Mr. Langton stirring his tea very hard, "with my money?"
"Well yes father," sighed Beatrice, "I hope you are not angry?"
"What did you buy" enquired Mr Langton.
"Two bracelets and a brooch" said Beatrice sadly.
Mr. Langton coughed and helped himself to some strawberry jam.
"I have been very busy putting some embroidery on your white petticoat all the afternoon," said Mrs Langton trying to change the subject, "you know I had a telegram to say you are expected on Thursday instead of next week."
"Oh Mother" said Beatrice, "I must begin to pack at once!" so saying she flew up to her bedroom, and ten minutes later the floor was littered with as many articles of clothing as you could wish to see, and when Mrs Langton came up after tea she found her daughter seated on the bed amid stockings of every shade, curling some crimson feathers.
"My dear Beatrice!" cried that good lady in astonishment, "what are you doing?"
"Well I was trying to pack mother" answered Beatrice calmly.
"I see" said Mrs Langton folding up a blue skirt as she spoke, "if you will allow me to help you I think you will manage better."
"Very well," replied Beatrice, "there are the trunks."
"Yes I see them" said Mrs Langton, "I think your new dress and hat had better go in the basket trunk dont you?"
"Perhaps so" said Beatrice gathering the stockings off the bed, "Oh mother, to think that the day after tomorrow I shall be going to Paris!"
"Yes indeed dear" replied Mrs Langton glancing round the littered room, "you have plenty of work to do, just darn these stockings will you, while I collect your hats."
Beatrice threaded her needle and once she was seated in the big arm-chair, her busy tongue began to go.
"What time do you suppose I shall arrive at Paris mother?" was the first question.
"Let me see, the boat starts from Newhaven at 11 in the morning," said Mrs Langton slowly, "I think you get to Paris about ten in the evening though I wont be sure."
"How nice!" said Beatrice, "is the Vindsor's house very grand?"
"I believe so" replied her mother "at least they keep fifty servants and nearly everything is either gold or silver!"
"Gracious!" exclaimed Beatrice.
"Yes," said Mrs Langton, "now Beatrice bring that darning downstairs, we must finish packing tomorrow, I will mend that skirt for you," and so saying Mrs Langton left the room.
Atlast the eventful day came and found Beatrice up at six o'clock, putting the last articles in her hand bag. By eight o'clock she was at the station taking the last farewells.
The little ones crowded round her, giving her chocolate and various sweets to eat on the way. Mrs Langton sobbed copiously, and Mr Langton as he kissed his daughter pressed a sovereign into her hand. But at last the guard waved his flag, the porters slammed the doors, and Beatrice found herself spinning away through fields of every shade, fast leaving SenburyGlen behind and approaching Newhaven Harbour. Beatrice gave a little sigh half of joy and half of fear, and then subsided into her novel and refreshments till the train stopped and she found herself in the aforesaid harbour. There were a great many passengers going by the Dieppe boat, and Beatrice had some difficulty to declare her luggage and smuggle the packet of coffee her thoughtful mother had put in the sponge bag. But at last she got on the boat and once she was seated in her deck chair gazing on the rough sea, she could not help shedding a few tears as she thought of the little brown cottage standing alone on the outskirts of Senbury Glen. But she soon cheered up and asked the stewardess to show her to her cabin. The woman obeyed and walked along the deck till she came to a battered looking door, which she opened saying—"Here is your cabin miss, your berth is number 10 and you will find some water to wash in."
Beatrice thanked her and entered the room. A woman five children and a nurse were seated round the room. The nurse had two small babies on her knee which she was trying to hush to sleep in vain. The mother was attemptingto comb the hair of a very frantic little boy and scolding two girls who would insist on unfastening all the trunks and scattering the contents on the floor. Beatrice took no notice of the noisy party, but went to her corner of the cabin and did her hair and washed her face in some hard salt water. The stewardess then brought her some tea and a bit of cake and Beatrice took the opportunity to ask her if she was to share the same cabin as the children and their elders.
"Well," whispered the stewardess, "I'm sorry to say you must, but I expect they will go on deck soon and then you will be alright miss."
Beatrice smiled and tried to read her book amidst the deafening roars of the babies. But in a little while the nurse marched them all up on deck, and the mother soon followed with one fat baby and a basket of refreshments in her arms. Then there was peace and Beatrice quite enjoyed her little dinner of ham sandwiches and a cold custard. But about 2 o'clock she began to feel drowsy and enjoyed a pleasant sleep, and at the end of half an hour was surprised to find she was in Dieppe.
She gathered her luggage together and agood natured sailor helped her off the steamer. She again declared her luggage and went to the station where she awaited the arrival of the train to Paris. At last it came up, and Beatrice found a comfortable carriage well padded with cushions and rugs, and a fat sulky looking girl in one corner who was busily engaged sucking lemons and studying Bradshaw.
Itwas close on ten when the train stopped at Paris, and Beatrice and the fat girl alighted to the platform.
"Do you reside here?" asked the girl in broken English.
"I am here on a visit," replied Beatrice.
"I see; is it not cold mademoiselle?" said this friendly girl.
"Very," answered Beatrice buttoning the collar of her coat.
"Yes very," continued the girl, "ah Mademoiselle you have no wraps; take my shawl," and without another word the girl pulled off her shawl and flung it round the shoulders of the astonished Beatrice, and then disappearedinto the refreshment room from which she did not reappear again in a hurry. Beatrice was too astonished to speak and hardly liked the coarse woollen shawl which had been so hospitably flung on to her shoulders.
Just as she had with some difficulty found her luggage a very grand footman dressed in green plush came up, and touching his hat said "Pour le Chateau?"
Beatrice said "Oui" in a very vague manner, and soon found herself rumbling along the streets of Paris in a very comfortable carriage with her luggage piled round her in a kind of pyramid and the friendly girl's shawl still clinging to her shoulders.
Soon the vehicle reduced speed and all at once Beatrice found herself at the great entrance porch of "Le Chateau!"
The footman rang the bell and then went away leaving Beatrice in a transport of fear and joy on the steps. Soon the door was opened by a very fat butler with powdered hair and a green plush uniform.
"What can I do for you?" he asked with the air of a king.
"Oh please I have come to stay" said Beatrice nervously.
"Step inside," said the courtly butler.
Beatrice did as she was bid and found herself in a most magnificent hall hung with rich velvet curtains and paved with Turkish carpets, and supported by gold and silver pillars.
"What name?" enquired the butler.
"Miss Langton," said Beatrice.
The butler then lead her along costly corridoors and majestic looking passages and at last stopped at a door which he flung open and called in a powerful voice "Miss Langton!"
A murmur arose at this announcement and in less than a minute Beatrice was in Mrs. Vindsor's arms being hugged to death almost. "My dear Beatrice!" she gasped when her kisses were exhausted "how pleased I am to see you! the steak has just gone down to be kept hot, come and see Clara."
These comforting words soothed Beatrice, and then Clara came forward to greet her friend.
Clara was a slight thin girl about 19 with very fair hair and blue eyes, she wore a blue satin dress trimmed with real Brussels lace in keeping with Le Chateau, and a spray of blue flowers in her hair.
"My sisters will be down in one minute"she said kindly "their maids are doing their hairs."
"Oh I see," said Beatrice rapidly taking off her gloves and displaying with some pride her white smooth hands.
"I suppose you are very tired," said Mrs. Vindsor giving the fire a poke with the toe of her shoe.
"Yes I am," said Beatrice "it was very rough crossing."
Just then the door opened and two girls entered about 22 and 24 in age. The eldest was by no means beautiful but she was intensely good. She had small black eyes and black hair which she wore in a most peculiar manner, it was cut in a fringe in front and gathered into a huge knob behind all except one piece which hung down her back and on the end of which a single red rose was attached. She was attired in yellow silk and was by no means courteous to Beatrice, her name was Honoria.
The other girl was the most beautiful of the three. She had lovely brown hair and soft blue eyes fringed by sweet long lashes. Her nose and mouth were enough to attract an artist towards her; she was dressed in a lovely pink silk dress and her knob was arrayed bya pink feather. Her name was Margaret and she was known through all Paris as the "sweet young lady with the pathetic blue eyes!" and on the 20th of August (her birthday) not a single person omitted to give her a present. Beatrice thought her lovely and kissed her on both cheeks with hearty good cheer.
And so ended Beatrice's first night at Le Chateau.
Thenext morning Beatrice had a slight headache and did not rise till the breakfast gong sounded through the walls of the great castle.
Just as she was ready her bedroom was opened and Margaret appeared.
"Oh Beatrice," she cried, "isn't it a lovely morning? Mama has just had a note asking us all to Mrs. Middle's garden party this afternoon, there will be a lot of English people there just arrived like yourself."
"Yes very nice," said Beatrice and the two went down to breakfast together.
Mrs. Vindsor and Honoria were already seated at the table enjoying the fragrant meal, but Clara had not yet come down.
"How late you are Margaret" protested Mrs. Vindsor.
"I am sorry Mother" said Margaret cracking her egg.
"So I should hope" said Honoria shaking her head so that the rose at the end of her tail swayed to and fro also.
After the meal was over Clara proposed to take Beatrice for a walk in the gay town as Margaret was going to trim a hat for Mrs. Middle's garden party, and Honoria always did the housekeeping.
Beatrice was delighted at the offer and soon joined Clara in the spacious hall.
"We must go this way" said Clara "as I have to go the Bank for Mother."
"Oh alright" said Beatrice taking Clara's arm.
Then followed a little conversation about nothing in particular, and by the time they reached the Bank Beatrice had quite decided that though Clara was very pleasant and cheery she was not as nice as Margaret who was kindness itself to the strange English girl.
"Would you like to walk up and down while I go into the Bank?" asked Clara.
"Yes please," said Beatrice who by no means appreciated Banks, and so saying she left Clara in the office and walked along the gay street. She seemed very strange as she walked through the strange streets and was so taken with the fancy shops that she forgot all about Clara in the bank.
"Dear me! what lovely gloves" she said as she stopped outside a large drapers shop "we dont have such things in England!"
Just then somebody passed behind her and in so doing brushed against her dress. Beatrice at once looked round and there walking quietly in front as though nothing had happened was a man!
Beatrice looked in amazement at the gentleman calmly receding up the road, and as she looked the form seemed to grow familiar in front of her eyes. Surely she had seen that navy blue suit before, that brown hat and those boots! Yes! the very walk was familiar to her. She knew that black curly hair and that well formed back again!—it was Lawrence Cathcart!
Beatrice gave a low cry and covered her face with her hands.
The man looked round and his eyes fell uponthe figure of the unhappy Beatrice. He evidently recognized her for with a little hesitation he advanced towards her and taking her arm said not unkindly—"Come with me."
"I can't" groaned Beatrice.
"You must," said Lawrence.
Beatrice could do no more but slowly and sadly she followed her enemy.
Many thoughts flashed through her mind during that walk, thoughts that Beatrice will never forget.
At last Lawrence stopped at an Inn door and he mounted the steps and walked in. Beatrice followed in silence.
Presently Lawrence opened a door and the two went into a small but pretty bedroom.
"Now," said Lawrence, turning the key in the door and looking kindly at Beatrice, "have you changed your mind since we last met?"
The tears welled into Beatrice's blue eyes and rolled down her now death-like cheeks. "Lawrence," she sobbed at length, "I wish I could say I had, I almost love you Lawrence but I cannot marry you."
"Very well" answered Lawrence drawing his lips tightly together, "I see my journey to France has been made in vain; I may add,"he continued "that I came here purposely to encounter you but all in vain! You have no real reason for not wishing to become my wife—it is not possible; but I will now flee from you and perhaps when I am laid upon my bed for the last time and Death has siezed me in its jaws you will repent of your past wrongs!!"
"Oh Lawrence!" Beatrice almost screamed in her agony "just one word before you go!"
"Not one," replied Lawrence, and with these words upon his lips he left the unhappy Beatrice in a swoon upon his floor.
Beatrice had given one hoarse scream as she fell to the floor, and it brought a couple of waiters to the room.
"What is it?" asked one.
"A young lady has fainted" said the other "run for the doctor quick."
The next instant there was a regular crowd round Beatrice all intensely interested, and in less time than it takes to tell old Doctor Holden was bending over Beatrice's white rigid face.
"She has had some shock I fear" said he feeling the thin white hand "can anyone in the crowd tell me where this lady lives?"
There was no sound of a reply for the firstfew seconds and then came a faint "yes" from the back of the throng.
"Come forward" cried the doctor. A rustling and a murmering of voices ensued and then the figure of a young girl rushed forward. It was Margaret Vindsor who had come out in search of Clara and fearing her to be lost had set out to find her.
"Now" said Dr. Holden giving Margaret a chair, "are you any relation to this young lady, and where does she live?"
"Oh Dr. Holden!" cried Margaret "she is a friend of ours and is on a visit to us—oh what shall I do? Oh poor Beatrice!!"
"Why Miss Vindsor is it you?" Asked Dr. Holden in surprise "Waiter run for a cab, we must take these ladies back to Le Chateau."
It was not long before the cab stopped at the Inn door and Dr. Holden assisted by two waiters lifted Beatrice into the cab and laid her gingerly on the seat, while Margaret speedily followed, and then the doctor himself jumped in and the downcast party drove back to Le Chateau.
Mrs. Vindsortogether with Honoria and Clara were waiting breathlessly in the hall when the cab drove up. Honoria flew to the door and the minute she caught sight of the unconscious Beatrice and her sister's pale face she gave a loud scream and tore rapidly to her bedroom. Beatrice was carried to her bedroom at once and the doctor soon left after leaving his directions.
Margaret was in a great state of anxiety, but possessing more self control than the rest of the family she was appointed nurse. Beatrice with the aid of salts and mustard plasters soon came to herself, but Lawrence Cathcart had done his work—rheumatic fever set in and for many days Beatrice hung between life and death. Mr. and Mrs. Langton were sent for and duly arrived but to no one would Beatrice confide the mystery of her illness. The more she thought of it the more ill she became and Honoria prayed a good deal. By the time she was able to get up her mind was made up. She would look for Lawrence Cathcart,ask his pardon and become his wife. Life offered naught else.
Tenyears have passed since the events recorded in my last chapter took place, and Beatrice now a woman of 28, is fair and blooming as ever but with an anxious care-worn expression round her face. She no longer lives in the pretty cottage in Senbury Glen for Mr. Langton has lost a great deal of money farming, and he and his family have changed their quarters and live in a dingy little house in a London back street. It would take too long to relate all that has happened in the last years, so I will describe the events as briefly as possible. To begin with little Tina who was always a delicate child has died within the last four years and rests in the churchyard at Senbury Glen. Mary and Lily have had to leave school early and Mary, a girl of twenty is taking lessons in painting while Lily stays at home.
One thing I must not omit to mention is that Beatrice is still on the look out for LawrenceCathcart but fears she will never find him.
One Spring morning Beatrice comes down to breakfast and finds Mrs. Langton busy with some papers.
"Well mother" she says sadly for her merry tone has completely deserted her, "have you heard of anything I can do to earn my living?"
"Yes dear I think so" replies Mrs. Langton glancing nervously at the manuscript in her hand, "you were always fond of nursing were you not Beatrice?"
"Yes mother, ever since I had that illness" answeres Beatrice "it was poor Margaret Vindsor who put the idea in my head."
"Poor Margaret" says Mrs. Langton, for Margaret may be numbered among the dead.
"Well mother what about me?" asks Beatrice presently.
"Oh I was forgetting" answers Mrs. Langton "I have heard from Captain Harsh and he says if I care to let you go to India he has a capital place for you as a military hospital nurse."
"To attend to the soldiers wounded in battle?" asks Beatrice.
"Yes dear" replies Mrs. Langton, "I will read you the letter—"Madam; Hearing ofyour daughter's wish to become a hospital nurse, I beg to offer my services. If you do not object to soldiers I have a lovely place out here in India where her only work will be to attend to the soldiers in their bungalows either in the night or day as her turn comes round. She will live with the other nurses in a comfortable house not far from the battle field. She will be expected to bring her own clothes, cups, plates and knives etc: She must be cheerful and kind and must make herself obliging to the soldiers. I will expect her by the next mail.
Believe me, Madam,Yours very sincerely,George Harsh(Captain ofthe 109th Regiment.)
"That sounds very nice mother" answers Beatrice "I think I will go."
"What about the character you are expected to have?" says Mrs. Langton artfully.
"I think I am both cheerful and kind" says Beatrice hotly "and as to being obliging to the soldiers, anybody could do that."
"Perhaps so," smiles Mrs. Langton, "then Iwill write to Captain Harsh and say you will go by the next mail."
For many days after this Beatrice is busy preparing for the voyage. And at last the eventful day arrives and Beatrice clad for the first time in her nurse's costume steps on board the Victory which is to take her to the wonderful city of Calcutta.
"Poor Mr. Langton gets quite frantic as he waves his red pocket handkerchief wildly to his beloved daughter for the last time, and Mrs. Langton faints on the pier and has to be carried away, which sets the helpless Beatrice sobbing as though her heart would break and she shouts messages till she is hoarse and then sheds many tears which continue on and off till she reaches Calcutta, when the sight of two pleasant nurses dressed like herself, quite cheers her up.
She advances bashfully towards them and says in meek submissive tones "if you please are you military hospital nurses?"
"We are," replies the tallest of the two "our names are Nurse Elsie and Nurse Brandon; of course there is no need to say that I am Nurse Brandon."
"Of course not" say Beatrice.
"And you are Nurse Mildred I presume" asks Nurse Brandon, gently nudging Nurse Elsie to join in the conversation.
"No my name is Beatrice Langton" replies Beatrice.
"I know" says Nurse Brandon, "but you will be known as Nurse Mildred in the wards."
"Oh I see" answers Beatrice glancing at Nurse Elsie whom she thinks she will like better than the former.
"And now" says Nurse Brandon "we will take you to the Residency; Nurse Elsie kindly lead the way."
The nurse does as she is told and the three walk on together. At last they reach a large building of yellow brick with a placcard on the door on which is engraved "Nurses' Residence." Nurse Elsie opens the door and leads the way to a large airy room in which some dozen nurses are having tea.
"This is Nurse Mildred," announces Nurse Brandon in loud tones, and then seating herself at the table she continues "Nurse Mildred you will sit next Nurse Helen tonight."
Beatrice gazes vaguely round the room wondering which is Nurse Helen, when suddenly a pretty nurse with chestnut hair and blueeyes jumps up and announces that she is Nurse Helen and takes Beatrice to her place. The tea is good and there is plenty of it, and together with thick bread and butter and coffee if preferred to tea, Beatrice thinks it is not a bad meal. After tea Nurse Brandon shows Beatrice to her room and tells her she need not begin work till to-morrow.
Thetime speeds rapidly on and Beatrice is now counted as quite an old nurse. She finds her work in the bungalows very pleasant and the soldiers find her most obliging. She works hard and is never tempted to grumble.
One day just as she is settling down to write after tea, after a hard day's work, Nurse Helen looks in at the door. "Nurse Mildred," she exclaims "you are to go at once to Bungalow number 5; a wounded soldier has just been taken there and is very ill I fear."
Beatrice jumps up and putting on her bonnet walks quickly to the 5th bungalow. It is a little white one on the outskirts of the jungle and close to the battle field, and in itthere is a bed, two chairs, a jug, basin and table. Beatrice takes hold of a small cup and measures some ointment into it, and then taking a sponge bathes the man's wounds. He is a very thin man with long slender hands and black hair and eyes, and at a first glance Beatrice sees that he is on the point of death. She does all she can for him and then at his wish reads some Holy Scriptures to him. Then seeing his eyes droop she goes to the other end of the bungalow and waits.
Presently she hears a weak voice say "Beatrice!"
She starts, it is a long time since that name has fallen on her ears. "Beatrice, dont you know me?" says the voice once more.
In a minute Beatrice is at his side clasping his hand in hers. "Oh Lawrence, Lawrence!" she cries.
Then there is silence. "Lawrence can you ever forgive me?" moans Beatrice at last.
"Forgive you my darling? It is the one thing I have lived for" says Lawrence.
"Accept me as your lawful wife," cries Beatrice bending over him.
"Yes darling, yes," says Lawrence faintly. He then tells her in a few words how in despairhe had given up everything and gone into the Army and lived only long enough to forgive Beatrice, for that day he had received his death wound in a sharp battle with the enemy.
"And now," he adds, "I shall die happy, and will you remember in after years (for I shall not live to) how here it was our hearts were re-united—once more joined together, here it was I accepted you for my wife, and here it is therefore that Love lies Deepest!"
"Oh my dear!" groans Beatrice heavily, "Lawrence, here is what I was going to have given you at the French Inn," and she presses a pair of gold links into his dying hand.
He smiles back at her and says "keep them darling as a remembrance of me."
Beatrice's only answer is a wild kiss, the last Lawrence will ever receive, the memory of which follows him to Eternity, the next minute he falls back with a groan.
Beatrice stands for a rigid moment and then falls prone beside the bed.
And there is only one in all this wide world who knows for certain if Lawrence Cathcart died a happy death.
John Winstonhad entered into manhood with every prospect of a bright and brilliant future.
His parents had died leaving him a nice little legacy and a great deal of land for farming But with all this good fortune, things did not seem to go right with him.
To begin with, he was idle and did not care for farming, so he let land waste away till it was good for nothing, and was forced to sell it. He then encountered a severe loss of money, and by degrees sank lower and lower in the world till he at last found himself a penniless man with barely enough to keep a roof over his head.
His only resourse then was marriage. There were plenty of rich girls about whose parents would be glad to find a suitable husband for them. John Winston was suitable enough, for he was good looking, witty, and had a certain amount of good sense; but his kind heart would not allow him to fall in love with these girls merely on account of their riches, so had to look out for someone he really loved.
During these explorations he met Helen Carline, a young girl, poor, and with no relations in the world. She was wondrously pretty with a profusion of fluffy golden hair and sad blue eyes which spoke all their thoughts.
Of course John Winston fell in love with her at once and proposed accordingly. After a little hesitation she accepted and John Winston's joy was beautiful to witness.
The married couple took a little cottage on the outskirts of the Malvern Hills and engaged one servant Jane Marshland, by name, about whom we shall hear more later on.
In the spring of the following year a little girl was born as a crowning joy to the young husband and wife.
But three months afterwards Mrs. Winston died of fever, which she caught when visiting a gipsy encampment near her home. So at an early age, little Helen, (for that was the child's name) was left without a mother, but she lacked no love or tenderness, for Mr. Winston's only care was for his beloved child, and Jane Marshland now the nurse, did every thing she could for the child's health and comfort.
Mr. Winston had to give up his dear little home, and retire with Jane and his baby to lodgings in London till he heard of some employment.
At last he found something not very satisfactory, but as nothing else offered he decided to take it. It was to perform the office of hangman in a small country town in Hants by the name of Kenalham.
It was not a nice position to be in certainly, and Mr. Winston's nerves were not strong, but the payment was good, and after all only about two people were hung a year at Kenalham.
So with a sinking heart Mr. Winston packed up his goods and departed with his child and servant to the little cottage in Kenalham, already furnished for him. It was a nice littlehouse and Mr. Winston smiled as he entered the drawing room, "after all" he said to Jane, "so few people are hung here that nearly all my time will be devoted to my darling Helen," and he kissed the rosy face of the child.
So, now having explained the position of my story I will skip over a few years and go on again at the time when Helen had grown up into a charming sweet mannered girl.
Thelittle village of Kenalham was situated in the south of Hants and lay at the bottom of some picturesquely grouped hills.
No river watered the little town, but a broad stream wound through the neighbouring medows giving a rich green shade to the grass on its banks; the high green hills stood out clear and tall against the blue sky, and the ruins of an old castle on the top of one of the heights gave a strange weird appearance. To add to the strangeness of this little scene, at the bottom of the very hill on which the ruins stood was a villa of the modern kind nestlingamidst a woody dell of beach trees. This was no other than the residence of Mr. John Winston and his daughter Helen, and it went by the name of "Beach Dale."
It was a charming little house and had the preveleage of possessing a beautiful view both back and front. The front looked out across miles of woodland scenery with no sign of human inhabetance any where safe a single cottage which stood out like a white speck among the greenness which surrounded it.
The back looked out on the lovely blue hills, and far away in the distant loomed the white cliffs of Portsmouth.
Having now given the reader a correct idea of the surroundings of "Beach Dale" I will endevour to describe Helen Winston.
At the time my story opens, our heroine was a charming young lady of nineteen years. She had an abundance of dark brown, almost black hair, curling gracefully over her forehead. Her beautiful brown eyes were headed by well marked eye brows of a lovely black; her complexion was like that of a blush rose and her pretty little nose and mouth added to the charm of her features.
Here character I will leave to be found outand only say that she was passionately fond of her father and devoted all her life solely to him.
Trouble and care had made Mr. Winston look old before his time. He was only 54, yet his hair and beard were completely grey. He had a kind quiet face and blue eyes, he had a rather wide mouth with a nervous twitch at each corner. He fully returned his daughter's love and considering he had taught her entirely himself she was comparatively cleaver girl.
Duringall the years Mr. Winston had lived in Kenalham he had only made one friend a Mr. Cyril Sheen. He was thirty years of age and a bachelor. He too had no friends in the village but Mr. Winston, so he was constantly at "Beach Dale." He was very fond of Helen and had often attempted to make love to her, but she was so completely innocent of his intentions that he felt quite bashful and dare not begin.
One morning, early in May, Mr. Winston and his daughter were just finishing their breakfast when Marshland came in with a letter which she handed to her master.
"A letter?" said Mr. Winston opening his eyes, "who can it be from?"
"Business, father I'm sure" replied Helen with a smile.
"I think not" said Mr. Winston wisely and he proceeded to tear open the envelope and persue its contents.
As he read the letter his face became first thoughtful, then puzzled and then it broke into a smile and lastly Mr. Winston burst into a fit of laughter and took a sip of his untasted tea. He then turned to his daughter for the first time.
"Do you know who this is from, Helen?" he said.
"No father I don't" answered Helen.
"Perhaps it will need a little explanation" replied Mr. Winston. "You have heard me speak of your cousins the Lincarrols haven't you?"
"Oh yes I know" said Helen "they are very rich aren't they?"
"Yes" said Mr. Winston slowly, "very."
"Well father what about them?" said Helen.
"Did I ever mention Gladys to you," enquired Mr. Winston.
"Oh yes" said Helen, "she is the pretty one isn't she?"
"Yes she is quite the "flower of the flock" I belive" replied Mr. Winston; "the others are decidedly plain."
"Well what about Gladys?" enquired Helen.
"Well she is going to be married shortly, and so she proposes coming here next week for a little while and bring her future husband with her. What do you say to that?" asked Mr. Winston.
Helen's pretty face was beaming with novelty and pleasure.
"How lovely father" she gasped; I do hope she will be nice."
"What about a bedroom for her?" said Mr. Winston.
"Oh! there's the little attic in the loft" replied Helen. "I'm sure that is good enough."
"What about the furniture for it? at present it is completely bare and full of cobwebs," said Mr. Winston.
"I forgot about that," said Helen. "Well she can Have the best bedroom."
"Yes" said Mr. Winston "but where is the young man to go?"
"What young man?" said Helen.
"James Palsey" said Mr. Winston referring to the letter in his hand.
Helen's face fell and her eyes filled with tears. "I'm afraid father" she said "we shall have to refuse them, for if the attic has to be used I certainly have no money to furnish it with and I know you have not."
"Don't make too sure my lass" said her father, "wait a little."
He got up as he spoke and taking a small key from his pocket went towards the left hand corner of the mantlepiece.
"Come closer Helen, come closer," he said keeping his eyes on his daughter.
Helen followed her father closely, her eyes with a startled expression in them and her lips quivering with emotion. Mr. Winston lifted a portion of the red velvit curtain which screaned the fire place, and then to Helen said:
"Do you notice anything peculiar about this part of the wall, my child."
"No father, except that there is a little hole just in the middle," replied Helen.
"Ah! you notice that?" said Mr. Winston.
"Yes" said Helen under her breath.
"Now watch me" said Mr. Winston.
Helen needed no second bidding; her eyes seemed riveted to the little hole.
Mr. Winston placed the key into the hole and turned it twice round. Immeadiately a little spring door flew open displaying two well constructed shelves of solid oak.
"This is my secret safe," said Mr. Winston, "known to no one but myself."
"Father!" cried Helen catching hold of his arm.
"Don't get excited, Helen" said her father. "I am going to disclose all the secrets of this safe to you. Do you perceive that the top shelf is faced in by a thin wire gauze with a handle to the left hand side?"
"Yes father" replied Helen.
"Well, nobody can get at the contents of that shelf without my knowing it."
"Why father?" asked Helen.
"Because there are two ways of opening it. Try to open it yourself and then I will explain it to you" said Mr. Winston.
Helen with nervous fingers took hold of the handle and turned it; the gauze door flew open and at the same time a bell began to ring loud and furiously.
Helen drew back in amazement.
Cant Marshland hear it. "Why doesn't she come up" asked Helen.
"She would not trouble to come up for she knows my secret" said Mr. Winston.
"Oh! I see" said Helen.
"Well to proceed" said Mr. Winston. "If Marshland or I heard that bell we should know the safe was being robbed and come up at once."
"Of course" said Helen.
"But there is another way of opening the safe known only to me" said Mr. Winston closing the gauze door; try any way you like to open that door I don't think you will find the right way."
Helen pushed and banged at the door trying every way, but in vain, the door would not move.
"Now I will show the right way," said Mr. Winston, as he spoke he placed his thumb on a brass nail and the gauze door rose, instead of opening, and without any noise displayed the contents of the secret safe.
"How wonderfull" said Helen.
"Would you like to see the contents?" said Mr. Winston.
"Oh! yes father" replied Helen.
Mr. Winston put his hand on the shelf and brought out a leather bag.
"It is full of gold" he said weighing it in his hand, "the savings of a life time."
"Oh father" gasped Helen.
Mr. Winston took out 10 gold peices and the rest he left in the bag "this will pay for the furnishing of the attic" he said.
"So it will" said Helen brightly.
Mr. Winston put the bag back and took out a little ivory box and displayed some magnificent jewilery to his daughter's dazzled eyes, "this was all all left to you by your mother's will," he said.
"Really!" said Helen, "I can't belive it."
The jewils consisted of two broachs, one set entirely in diamonds, the other a horseshow set in rubies; a gold watch, chain and seals; a nexlet of pearls and a gold bracelet fastenned with a ruby heart.
Mr. Winston placed the bracelet on Helen's slender arm; "this" he said "was to be given you in your nineteenth year, the other jewilsby your mother's will will be given to you when you come of age.
"How lovely" cried Helen glancing at the circlet of gold on her wrist.
"I will now lock up the rest of the things" said Mr. Winston "and mind Helen, not a word of this is ever to be revealed."
"Never father" said Helen kissing him.
Mr. Winston had barely shut the safe and closed the curtain when the door opened and in came Cyril Sheene.
"Good morning Winston" he cried hastily, "I thought I'd just pop in and see if Helen would come out with me."
"Why Cyril we didn't expect you half so early" said Helen blushing.
"No I'm sure you didn't replied Cyril, "but you will come out wont you?"
"Oh certainly" said Helen and she ran up to get her hat.