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ROWLANDS' MACASSAR OIL

Has been known for the last 80 years as the best and safest preserver and beautifier of the Hair ; it contains no lead or mineral ingredients, and is especially adapted for the hair of Children. Sold in usual Four Sizes.

ROWLANDS' ODONTO

Chapter I. Old Peter

" Hallo, Peter ! What, still in the land of the living ? Glad to see you hale and hearty. Familiar faces are always welcome."

The lodge-keeper eyed the speaker narrowly and craftily, but evidently failed to recognize him ; so he opened the gate, and, lifting the hat he always wore even in the house, said shortly —

" The family is abroad, sir."

" The deuce they are ! That is just like my cursed bad luck. When are they likely to return ? "

"Don't know, sir — maybe soon, maybe not for months."

"Humph. And you, Peter, how have you been all these years ? "

" Nicely, sir, thank you." And Peter lowered his brow and looked up at his interrogator from underneath his hat, as though he were searching in memory for the time and place when and where he had seen him beforo.

"I don't believe you know me, after all," said the stranger cheerily, throwing himself off his horse as he spoke, and standing beside the old man.

B

" Well, sir, it's best to be out with the truth at once — I don't. You must blame my memory, for it is getting a bit confused."

" Yet we have had more than one adventure together. Has all recollection of the dam down by the old mill slipped from your mind as well as my features ? Here, boy, come and hold my horse," he shouted, turning away from Peter and looking in the direction of a lad who was working at some little distance ; thus the expression of the old man's face escaped his observation. It was one in which fear and hatred were strangely commingled ; but in a moment it took a brighter, healthier turn, and he seized the new-comer by the hand.

" Master Harry ! " he cried out. " And to think I did not know ye ! "

" Well, I am scarcely surprised. It is many a year since we parted. I was a beardless stripling in those days, eh, Peter ? So my cousins at the house are abroad ? Hold my horse steadily, boy. And now, old friend, let us adjourn into your quarters and have a chat."

With tottering steps Old Peter led the way ; in fact, so shaky and feeble had he suddenly become that if the stranger had not held out his hand to support him he would have fallen on his own doorstep.

Old Peter has scarcely passed the three score years and ten which Scripture assigns as the allotted term of human life ; and though his intellect is keen and unimpaired as it had been in the heyday of his youth, yet he is bent in frame, and his physical powers are feeble as those of a man whom much labour, perhaps a share, too, of bitter vexation, have worn out before his time. He cannot stand the toil and the wear and tear of work as he used to do, and even in the days of early autumn may be seen bending over a cheerful wood-fire, as though to obtain from it some of the caloric which has become exhausted in his spent body. For hours previous to the stranger's arrival he has

OLD PETER. 3

been crouching over it, spreading out his bony fleskless fingers above the flames. Though the last rays of a gorgeous sunset are dancing with their glad light aslant the tiny casement-panes of his room, the old man heeds them not, but seems engrossed, gazing in his fire, as though he read old tales among the ashen embers. Half kitchen, half parlour, the room in which he was constantly to be seen sitting on his settle is clean and trim and comfortable. There is no carpet, but the polished floor is without a blemish, the well-rubbed table without a spot or stain, while on the high mantelshelf over the fireplace is many a quaint specimen of crockery, such as used to be found plentifully in the cottages of the poor before the hric-a-brac lovers, so numerous as they have become in our days, made a raid upon the entire rural population and bought up at meagre prices every cup that was worth their attention. But Peter has held on by his treasures ; and not only on the mantelshelf but among the ordinary utensils for daily use not a few specimens of queer old English relics will be found, if the connoisseurs ever have a chance of rummaging among the contents of the "old lodge." For many years now Peter has lived there as principal gate-keeper to the family at Swinton Hall. He has seen more than one generation pass away, and if it were possible to unlock the old man's lips, strange are the tales he could tell, not only of the lives of the " grand folk " with whom he has come in contact, but of his own particular interest and share iu more than one eventful episode. But, crabbed, sarcastic, and silent by nature, the past with Old Peter is a sealed book ; he never refers to it to any one, but surely he dwells on it in spirit while he sits for hours gazing thoughtfully into the fire ?

It is a lonely existence enough to live thus through long weary years, with some bitter unspoken memories for ever rankling within, and drying up the sap of that peaco and hope which should have been the comfort and solace of the worn man's declining years. Yet bis life is not entirely without a joy, for —

" Still the little flower bloomed, And still it lived and throve ; And men do call it summer-growth, But the angels call it ' Love.1 "

Yes, Peter, the lodge-keeper, has his one floweret still ; and even while he sits dreaming by the fire, the click of the gate-latch rouses him, and his joy bounds with a light step and merry laugh into the room. It is a fully blown, warm-ti nted flower, this exotic of his, and it seems to fill the whole place with gorgeous colouring and sparkling brilliancy as it blooms suddenly on the silent scene.

" What, sleeping as usual, grand-dad ! And never even got the cups ready for tea ! I verily believe you would starve yourself to death if I were not to look after you."

" Ay, Cicely, I should be lost without you, child, and that is the truth. And yet you cannot bide always in this poor lodge — more's the pity."

" As long as you live, grand-dad, I will bide here, and for the rest G-od will provide." And there came a shade over the girl's bright face which had not been upon it when she entered the room.

" It won't be long, Cis, it won't be long, and perhaps G-od will provide; though it is dreary work trusting to Providence, child. He has not always provided — not always. But no matter — let the past rest."

" Now you are a very naughty grand-dad to talk like that. I shall bring the vicar to lecture you, if you will not mind me."

" No vicars here, Cicely, mind you, child ; no vicars, if you would not anger me — I have had enough of them." And there was an amount of asperity in the old man's tone which he but rarely displayed to his grand-daughter.

" The vicar is very good to me, daddy. I don't know why you should be so severe on him."

OLD PETER. 5

" ISTo matter, child. Learn what the vicar has to teach you — men say he is truthful and upright — but don't let him darken my doors."

" He knows as well as I do that you dislike him, grand-dad, and I am sure he is very sorry about it."

" Is he ? And has he been whining over his troubles to you ? Parsons don't like sheep that won't follow the flock. It takes from their power. Oh ! I know them of old."

" Oh, daddy, dear daddy, don't be hard and cross. Only one little fault have you got, my darling old daddy : that you will not believe in other people's goodness. You make every one out to be so wicked ; and I do so like to think that everybody is good and kind and loving — just what I should wish them to be."

" Bah ! Too much belief is a young girl's folly, child, and generally ends in being a woman's curse. Believe nothing, trust no one, if you would not be "

But he turned from her as though unable to finish the sentence, and asked abruptly for his tea.

The girl he called Cicely took off the large sun hat of coarse straw which had till now partially shaded her features, and stood for a moment or two looking at him in surprise. It was not often that Old Peter evinced emotion on any subject ; his remarks were usually terse and diy, and the change in his humour evidently astonished his grand-daughter. He did not, however, look round at her again, and she walked away into a back room without speaking. Soon, having apparently forgotten her momentary surprise, she busied herself arranging the cups and saucers for their afternoon meal, humming carelessly the while. Light of heart and full of hope, there are no painful memories to shake her faith and trust. Her flashing eyes have as yet been undimnied by a tear, the bright warm blood that mantles her peach-like cheeks has never yet been blanched by the outburst of some strong surging passion ; yet the quick change of colouring, the warm glow

6 TOVCH AND 00.

even of her early maiden beanty, denote the strong undercurrent of feeling which is latent in that young frame, and which wise or evil counsellors may perchance one day mould as they will, according as Cicely's heart-promptings induce her to listen and be directed. Impressionable by nature, to her heart and not her head must those who are interested in her welfare trust, for that she will follow its instincts only there is little doubt ; and Old Peter, sitting morose and taciturn on his wooden settle, perhaps knows it better than most — ay, dreads it more than he would care to acknowledge in spoken words. They have lived together alone at the lodge since Cicely was a mere child • she can, at all events, remember no other home nor form any conjecture whence she came to this one. A poor woman arrives daily from the village " to tidy up a bit and make things comfortable for the child," as Old Peter expresses it ; but she is deaf and dumb, so Cicely is not likely to get much information from her, nor does any one else seem either willing or able to tell her. True, happy in the life her grandfather, with all his moroseness, tries to make bright for her, she does not often ask ; yet from the fulness of that large heart of hers sometimes the cry will force itself, " Oh, why have I not a mother, like the rest of the children I see, to share my griefs and joys? " But the temporary feeling passes, and Cicely carols with the birds, frolics with the young lambs, and is content for the nonce to love her grand-dad and that fair nature which pregnant in beauty, lies all around her as she wanders through the Swinton woods far out into the uplands beyond. Strongly prejudiced as Old Peter is against the clergy, yet he has ceded a point and sent Cicely to be "taught book-learning" by the vicar; but though she goes to please her grand-dad, and because the vicar is kind to her, yet education by contact is the only mode of tuition that will ever reach her. Printed phrases seem to pass from her mind as soon as read, while on nature's book she

OLD PETER. 7

i,'. never tired of dwelling. Will she not, in the future which has yet to dawn for hor, crave that abundance of brightness, warmth, and artistic beauty which riches alone carry in their wake ?

Still she is only a lodge-keeper's grand-daughter ! What matter ? Look at her, as she flits about the room arranging the old man's tea, and say if Hebe herself possessed a greater charm, or whether she, with her full rich beauty, Avill, as Old Peter himself has said, " bide on in the lodge for long."

They are sitting together, now, the old man and the young girl, and the two heads, with their quaint surroundings, form a picture which a painter might aspire to reproduce on canvas. Few words are spoken, for old Peter has dropped again almost into a state of reverie, when the shout of " Gate ! " rouses him, and he starts up.

" The family away — who can this stranger be ? " he mutters, as he hobbles out in the pursuit of his calling.

The stranger, who had given Peter his arm up the steps of the lodge, was a handsome-looking man, bronzed and bearded as though he had been lately in foreign parts. Of his age it were difficult to speak, as, except a pair of keen sharp eyes, little of his face was to be seen save brown hair.

Having conducted Peter to his settle by the fire, he turned to Cicely, who was standing blushing and wondering by the window as they entered the little parlour together ; and her cheeks became suddenly redder than the peony itself when the new-comer exclaimed —

" Good God, Peter ! why, who is this ? "

The old man's only answer was a moan as he leant forward and hid his face in his hands.

The man he had called " Master Harry " looked from one to the other in astonishment ; and then, finding Peter gave him no answer, he addressed the girl.

" What is your name, my child P "

" Cicely, please sir," she answered, shyly, dropping a little curtsey.

"Cicely what?"

But before she had time to reply the old man roused himself.

" Don't torment the girl with questions. Run out, lass, run out and take a walk before supper time. I have some private business with this gentleman."

Cicely moved towards the door to obey her grandfather's bidding. The stranger opened it for her and bowed his head as she passed, as though he were the most abject of her slaves and she a grand-duchess at the least.

Chapter II. Glimpses

Cicely having been dismissed for awhile from attendance on her grandfather, sped with the swiftness of a young deer through a tiny copse adjoining the gates of Swinton Park, and a pathway from which led to a village about a quarter of a mile off. She hoped to find some playmates yet lingering over their games on the village green, for, though now past her seventeenth birthday, she had not attained that period when, the woman havin^ taken the place of the girl, puerile amusements pall and are regarded as trivial and inane. ISTone of the dew had been dashed off Cicely's bud of life, and as after her swift run through the wood she arrived breathless and flushed amon°" her companions, the exclamations of joy with which they hailed her advent showed that the gaiety and spirit of the merry throng received an impetus when Cicely came, and that she was the reigning queen on the village green. "How have you managed to get out at this hour? We thought your grandfather always kept you at home in the evening. Tell us how you came here," were questions with which she was assailed on all sides.

And when, between pauses to recover her breath, she informed them that a strange gentleman was closeted with her grandfather, still greater seemed the astonishment of the youthful villagers. Swinton was a quiet peaceable place, and strangers were but little known in it. True, when the great family at the Hall was at home people came and went more frequently, but they had been travelling for the last two years or more, and since they had left no incident of any note had befallen to afford food for the village gossips, save the very ordinary ones of their own agricultural and laborious life. To every one, children included, Old Peter was a mystery ; and on the rare occasions when he appeared in the village he was treated with an amount of respect and reverence which denoted that the good folk scarcely accepted him as one of themselves. Of late, however, they had ceased to discuss him and his affairs, and nothing had occurred to create fresh surmises or new wonder till the advent of this stranger. Sure enough they had all seen him ride through the village ; but the children's curiosity was the first to be gratified by the announcement that he was actually in Peter's cottage, in intimate and serious conversation with him, and that Cicely had been sent right away that she might not interfere with their talk. The young bright inquiring faces were all round her, asking her countless questions, which she was utterly at a loss to answer ; for what so clear to a rural population as an incident and a stranger ? And well each of those young people knew the severe examination they would undergo anent Peter's guest on their return to their several homes. Suddenly, however, their chatter is brought to a cessation by the approach of no less important an individual than the vicar. He lias been taking advantage of the lovely autumnal evening to indulge in a stroll ; and seeing several members of the juvenile portion of his flock in earnest conversation, he saunters amongst them almost before they are aware of his presence.

" Why, children, what grave and important matters are usurping your attention that you have left off your games to discuss them ? " he asks, as he places his hand on a curly pate.

The vicar is beloved and by no means feared by the younger community, yet no one is ready with an, answer ; the babel which has existed for the last few minutes suddenly ceases, and there is a dead silence.

" So," he continues, smiling, " then, I am not to be permitted to penetrate this mighty secret? Well, I suppose I may trust you that it is no mischief your young brains are concocting."

The vicar was of the Arnold school — he governed his flock by believing in them, and giving them more or less the power and knowledge how to govern and control themselves and each other.

" Indeed, sir, it is not mischief," cried out Cicely— from being the vicar's pupil she was more accustomed to address him than the other children : " it is just that a strange gentleman has arrived at grandfather's, and we are all wondering who he can be."

"And very inquisitive of you youngsters. What can Old Peter's friends have to do with you ? "

" Oh, he is not a friend of grand-dad's. Please, sir, he is quite a gentleman, with ever such a long beard — I never saw any one like him before."

" And you do not know where he has come from ? " Was the vicar forgetful of his reproof and becoming curious too ?

"No, that I don't," cried .Cicely; "only he rode a lovely horse. He asked me my name, and seemed so surprised to sec me there ! It's queer, isn't it, sir, that grand-dad should have such a grand visitor, and that he should know anything about me ? "

The vicar evidently thought as Cicely did, though it was scarcely fitting he should agree with her. He answered hurriedly —

" Perhaps so, perhaps so, Cicely ; but curiosity is a weed of evil growth, my child. Trust to yoxxr grandfather — if he judges it right to tell you about this stranger he will doubtless do so."

And a shade came over the vicar's brow, as though notwithstanding his words he too had been somewhat infected by the general feeling of wonder which pervaded the group of children.

" Go on with your play, children; in another half -hour it will be time for you all to be in your homes. Good-night." And so the good man walked away, but not towards his parsonage, whither he had been directing his steps when the group on the village green attracted him. Either some topic had been suggested to his mind which he wished to think out, or he had a more practical reason for retracing his steps instead of continuing his homeward path. The Rev. Mr. Burke had been for many years the vicar of Swinton. He had buried his wife and two only children in the churchyard close by, and now as he descended into the vale of years he was a lonelier man than Peter in his lodge ; yet to all outward appearance he was a happier one, for he was of a contented, resigned, philosophical spirit, and made all mankind his friend, individualizing himself with each of his parishioners and thoroughly making their hopes and fears his own. The only one in his whole flock who seemed to set his face resolutely against him was Peter. Either Mr. Burke knew so much of the old gatekeeper's past that the very sight of him awakened bitter recollections, or he dreaded lest the worthy clergyman might strive to unriddle the mysteries in which Peter loved to envelope himself. Whichever was the true reason, Peter evidently avoided every opportunity by which he and Mr. Burke were likely to be brought even into distant contact ; and had he not had Cicely's interest very keenly at heart it is more than probable he would even have forbidden all intercourse between her and the vicar, so keen was his animosity against him.

After Mr. Burke's departure the children, speedily forgetting their passing interest in the advent of a stranger, betook themselves once more to their games, and until the sun had well-nigh crept out of sight behind the trees of the neighbouring wood their merry voices might be heard Bhouting and laughing in joyous chorus. But the shadows which were gradually surrounding them on all sides warned them that it was time to seek their respective homes if they did not expect a chiding for late hours, and one by one they gradually dispersed, leaving Cicely, who alone lived at any distance, to find her way back to the lodge. It was not often that she was out so late, and perhaps a dim sense of fear stole over her, for, renouncing the shorter path through the wood, she took to the highroad, along which she set off at a brisk pace, wondering to herself the while whether the stranger were yet with her grandfather, and whether she had better enter boldly or remain outside till she was summoned. Her speculations as to what had occurred were, however, speedily arrested by the approach of the very stranger himself, who, with his horse's bridle thrown carelessly over his arm, was walking leisurely in the direction of the village.

" I wonder if he will know me ? " thought Cicely to herself. " And shall I drop him a curtsey or walk straight on ? " Again, however, her wondering was brought to a sudden stop, for the stranger accosted her at once.

" The grandfather is looking out for you, Miss Cicely. He says he thinks you have had a pretty good bout of play for this day ; but I tell him play-days don't come twice in a lifetime ; though I hear you love them better than books — eh, little one ? "

Cicely blushed crimson, and for the first time in her life felt ashamed of her proclivities for fun and frolic. Why she should mind the observations of this strange gentleman she could not have denned even to herself, but that they struck home and made her regret that she was still a child and not a staid, responsible woman was the new sensation which these few almost jocular words had aroused within her.

" I don't like dry books, but I like pretty ones — there are so few pretty books at the vicarage."

"Beginning already to excuse herself," he half-muttered; but she heard it not, for he went on: "You shall have some amusing books as soon as I go back to London. I will send them in a parcel to your grandfather."

" Oh, thank you, sir. How very kind and good of you ! Will it not be nice to have something pleasant to read during the winter evenings ! It was dreary and dull enough here last winter."

And the girl's voice suddenly changed from a tone of glad thankfulness into one of weary depression.

Here was another discovery for the stranger, who was an acute observer of outward signs. Cicely had already learnt what was meant by "being bored; " hence the child was fast merging into the woman.

He did not, however, let her see that he had remarked her change of manner, unless a curious smile which passed over his face told its tale — which to an unsophisticated, country-bred mind was scarcely probable — but he plunged at onec into another topic.

" Your grandfather tells me there is a clean respectable inn in the village ; but I don't think he knows much about it. It seems to mo that he has scarcely been in fcnvintou village since I was labt there myself."

" Oh, grand-dad does not go out. But I never saw you in Swinton before," cried Cicely, with a sudden accession of courage, which either curiosity or the cordiality of the stranger's manner had evoked.

" Before you were born, Cicely, I used to run about in these woods and glades as you do now."

" Before I was born ! Are you, then, so very old ? "

Cicely computed years from the very limited arithmetical table of her own life. To her young mind a man of five and twenty had already passed from sunshine into shadow, while a woman of that age was in the sere and yellow leaf.

" That is as people may think," said the stranger, smiling. " I at thirty-nine still look forward to many years of brightness, though of course I have more to look back on than you at seventeen can possibly guess."

" I don't know that." And Cicely nodded her head with an amount of girlish sagacity that seemed to amuse her companion. " I don't know that. I have had my troubles too, and I often think them all over when I am by myself."

" Tou shall tell them to me, sweet Cicely, some time. I shall probably be in these parts for the next few days."

" Tell them to you ! And why, pray, should I confide my secrets to you ? " And there was a flash in the dark eyes — the adjective before her name had failed to please Cicely, in whose nature there was a chord which jarred at the touch of over-familiarity. She was but a lodgekeeper's grand- daughter, but for all that it seemed as though she possessed the pride of race.

" Nay, nay, little one, there is no especial reason, save that perchance I may claim the privilege of an old friend."

" Why, I tell you I never saw you in my life before."

" But your grandfather and I have not met to-day for the first time."

" That is quite another matter," said Cicely, laughing.

■' You must make yourself my friend before I can tell you my secrets."

" So I will. Nothing will give me greater pleasure." ':Oh, you will find it very difficult — you cannot think how hard I am to please." And Cicely laughed merrily at the thought of this fine gentleman wishing to be her friend; while he, stadying her inner nature closely the while, made the mental observation that she already knew by instinct how to wield her woman's attributes with grace, and that the bud now unfolding into beauty needed more careful watching and tending than it was likely to receive among the weeds and common flowerets which choked up the hedges around Peter's cottage.

By this time, however, it was nearly dark, and the stranger judged it wiser to postpone till the morrow any farther analysis he might care to make of Cicely's character ; so, bidding her speed home at her quickest, he was preparing to start once more in search of a friendly inn, when a third person appeared on the scene. It was the second time that evening that the Rev. Mr. Burke had intruded on a conversation in which he was scarcely intended to take a part. Surely a spirit of restlessness had possessed the worthy vicar.

"How on earth did he come there at that particular moment ? " was Cicely's mental query, while she halfdreaded a lecture for talking and laughing with the stranger. The fact was, the vicar had been strolling in the wood, looking pei'haps for the very meeting he had stumbled on on the high-road, though, truth to state, he had in no way expected that Cicely would take a part in it.