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In the Shadow of the Bush

Chapter XXVII

page 171

Chapter XXVII.

Morton had seen them as they passed his place, though in the absorbing nature of their occupation at the time, they had been unconscious of his presence near them. As he watched them go slowly by, deeply interested, as it appeared, in conversation, he laughed to himself, but his laugh was less bitter and eynical than usual. It had more of human kindness in it.

"Ah, well," he said, "we shall see. I believe they are deserving of happiness—both of them—if they can find it—as much happiness as falls to the lot of poor humanity. To love and be beloved again, and think, life an elysium till the illusion is swept away. Never mind, we must each live our life and die our death. Be happy if you can. Ashwin is in love, poor fool—I can see that plainly—and with no encouragement for him in his suit—none at all. Heart-aches have begun. Well, we shall see—perhaps there is hope for him yet. Ashwin, for a young colonial, is a fine fellow as men go, and I like him. He can use a stock-whip—ha, ha, ha!—and yet has got a soul above bullocks. And the girl is one in ten thousand, I have come to think—and may be a fool for thinking so. She is not, at any rate, one of those mincing, mindless things that one meets with everyday; nor one of the back-biting, scandal-scattering, blood-sucking, venomous sort; nor yet is she one of the wheedling, coaxing …… harlots of hell," he exclaimed, as some strong memory rushed upon him; and then he added, bitterly, "Time has not quite healed that page 172sore yet. The foul and festering cancer is not yet wholly burnt out. Ah, well," he went on, after a pause, "this girl, I think, is east in a different mould from any of these, and may be worthy of a true man's love—and may yet be able to reward it."

The same evening, as Miss Elwood was seated beside her father, her brother having gone to bed, she said, after some little hesitation:

"Father, I have been thinking it might be better for us—for you—and all of us—if we left this place—left it at once—as soon as possible. The farm could be sold again without a loss I suppose? We could return to England, or, if you should prefer it, live in some quiet spot on the Continent—in France or Germany. Living is cheap there, and I could, by teaching English, or in some other way, help to add to the little income we might otherwise have."

The old man looked at her for a moment before he answered, and she blushed a little under his gaze.

"Perhaps you are right, dear," he said. "But not to England—not again to England—anywhere else, but not again there. I did think we had found a haven here; and, if you had wished it, I could, perhaps, have borne to remain here. But if you are not happy in this place—if you think you would be happier elsewhere—it is better that we should go. Our paths must again be with those of 'the wandering foot and weary breast.' Yes, it is best that we should leave. I, myself, have no longer a desire to stay here; and your happiness, dear, and your own good, and Edwin's, must now be all I have to live for. And I have noticed you less bright and cheerful of late, when you thought you were unobserved—as if some fresh sorrow had found you—you who were always so brave and comforting. Traces of tears this afternoon I thought I saw also. Ah, Maud, what would I do if my staff and stay failed me Yes, we will sell the place, and seek fresh scenes. The farm is yours and your brother's—in your name, and in page 173yours and mine, as trustees for him. There will be no difficulty in disposing of it, and no loss—if I have been correctly informed by those who ought to know its value—and there may be a profit. Yes, dear, we will sell out here, and go where you think best."

Accordingly, a few days afterwards the farm was advertised for sale in the local paper, and was also placed in the hands of the Wellington firm of land agents, through whom it had been purchased by Mr. Elwood. And, will it be credited, before another few days had passed, Frank Ashwin, like the great and irresponsible simpleton that he was, put his firm in the market also.

He had seen Mr. Elwood's advertisement the day after it appeared, and had called on him at once. He was then told of the determination to leave New Zealand that had been come to.

"It is my daughter's wish as much as mine—more so, indeed," the old man said. "I could have been content to live on here, for a time at least. But it was her wish, expressed lately, that we should go at once. And it is butter so. She has hardly been her usual self since that day of the encounter, when you came so timely to our assistance; and the desire to sever our connection with the place seems to have since grown upon her—her who was wont to be so brave, and unmindful of the world's opinion, its slights, or its scorn. I can hardly understand it, but it is wisest that we should leave, and," he added, "we can, however, always look back with pleasure and grateful feelings to one bright circumstance in our life here, in that we found a true friend in you, Mr. Ashwin—and, indeed, in a less degree, in Mr. Morton also; for since that day we have seen more of him than we did before, and though his mind may be prejudiced in some respects, and his words often hard and cynical, yet I believe he has a warm heart; and he has lately shown a gentle consideration and kindly feeling, which, I will admit, I hardly expected from him. But you page 174have been our friend from the first—a true, unchanging friend throughout."

Ashwin could only murmur his regrets at the proposed departure, for his heart was too full to allow him to express himself freely. But, before he left, when he had an opportunity of speaking with Miss Elwood alone for a moment, he told her he would leave also.

"I would follow you to the ends of the earth, he said, "if you would not shut me out from all hope; but, in any case, I cannot stay here. When you have gone, how could I look day after day on the place where you have been, and no longer are? The very sunshine would be blighted. I also will go, and seek relief in change of scene—in South Africa or the Argentine."

"Stay here—stay here," she said. "Oh, that I should be the means of driving you from your home and friends! It is hard, but you are wrong and foolish—believe me you are Stay here. Time will bring its cure, and you will forget menot altogether forget, perhaps, but look back with only a feeling of friendly regard for one whom you will see no more; as—as, indeed, I shall always look on you. And you will find another to fill more worthily the place in your heart and life that you now think is reserved only for me."

"Never," he said; "believe me—never. You shall still have the first and only place there. Ah, Miss Elwood, is it not cruel? Were it not for this barrier that you have raised between us—needlessly, I think—my heart tells me I might hope in time to win your love. Give me leave to come to you, wherever you may be—a year hence—ten years hence—and I will come."

"It cannot be—oh, it cannot be," she answered with some emotion, touched by the strength and fervour of his love. "What can I say more? Let no false hopes delude you. See me no more—speak to me no more, for pity's sake. Oh, that we were leaving this place this very hour," she added, as if to herself.

page 175

"Remain here," Ashwin replied, "and I will go—my presence shall no longer give you pain. I will accept the inevitable. I have been wrong, I suppose, in urging my suit so strongly—but my love is strong."

And they parted.

And thus it was that Ashwin's place was put in the market also. He placed it in Wilmot's hands for sale privately. Elwood had not given his farm into gentleman's hands for disposal, for, in fact, he was hardly aware of his existence, or that there, were agents in the township for the sale of property. But, now that his own from was advertised in the Guardian, he noticed there also the list of properties which Wilmot had for sale, and it is possible he might have given him also the opportunity of finding a buyer for it if he could, had not Morton, on the evening of the day of Ashwin's last visit to Elwood's, walked over there. He had called there several times lately on matters of neighbourly business or friendship, and on this occasion he gave as the reason for his visit the advertisement which he had seen with reference to the sale of the farm, and said he wished to have a talk with Mr. Elwood on the subject. The result of the interview was the withdrawal of the advertisement from the paper, and a notification forwarded to the Wellington agents that, for the present at least, the property was no longer for sale.

When Ashwin learnt of this sudden change of intention, he did not know what to make of il, but was inclined to think sorrowfully that it must have been brought about by his own determination to leave the district, as expressed to Miss Elwood, whose influence over her father he knew to be paramount. But when he next met that young lady as she rode into Bloomsbury with her brother, something, as he fondly imagined—indefinable perhaps—but still something—in her manner, as she returned his greeting, caused him to lake a less gloomy view. Was it a deeper blush that overspread her page 176features, or was it a softer look in the eyes that were raised for a moment to meet his?

Whatever it may have been, Ashwin pursued his way homeward with a less heavy weight on his heart, and he felt that, while Miss Elwood remained in the district, it would be impossible for him to tear himself away from it. The very next morning, therefore, he went in and saw Wilmot, and, if he did not actually withdraw his farm from sale, he added two pounds an acre to the price of it, much to the chagrin of Wilmot, who thought he could have sold it readily at the price first asked for it.