IN THE GREAT METROPOLIS.
"There are lonely hearts to cherish
While the days are going by,
There are weary souls who perish
While the days are going by.
If a smile we can renew,
As our journey we pursue,
Oh, the good we all may do
While the days are passing by!"
The London season was at its height, but though the pure sunshine was
glistening on mountain-top and green meadow, and beginning to tinge the
corn-fields with a golden tint in country places, where peace and
quietness seemed to reign, and leafy greenery called on every one who
loved nature to come and enjoy it in its summer flush of beauty, yet the
great city was still filled not only by those who could not leave its
crowded streets, but by hundreds who lingered there in the mere pursuit
of pleasure, for whom the beauties of nature had no charm.
On one peculiarly fine day a group of people were gathered together in
the drawing-room of a splendid mansion in one of the West End crescents.
There was evidently going to be a riding party, for horses held by
grooms stood at the door, and two at least of the ladies in the
drawing-room wore riding habits.
In conversation with one of these--a pretty fair-haired girl of some
twenty years--stood Reginald Gower. "Will your sister ride to-day, do
you know?" he was asking, in somewhat anxious tones.
"Gertie? No, I think not; she has a particular engagement this morning.
I don't exactly know what it is, but she will not be one of the party.
So, Mr. Gower, you and Arthur Barton will have to put up with only the
company of myself and Cousin Mary."
Ere the young man could reply, the door opened, and a girl dressed in a
dark summer serge and light straw hat entered. She carried a small
leather bag in her hand, and was greeted with exclamations of dismay
from more than one of the party.
"Are you going slumming to-day, Gertie? What a shame! And the sun so
bright, and yet a cool air--just the most delightful sort of day for a
ride; and we are going to call on your favourite aunt Mary."
"Give her my love then," replied Gertie, "and tell her I hope to ride
over one of those days and see her. No, I cannot possibly go with you
to-day, as I have an engagement elsewhere."
"An engagement in the slums! Who ever heard of such a thing?" said her
sister and cousin together.
"I am sorry to disappoint you, Lily dear, and my cousin also; but I had
promised two or three poor people to see them to-day before I knew
anything of this riding party, and I am sure I am right not to
disappoint them.--And, Mr. Gower, I know your mother at least would not
think I was wrong."
"That is true, Miss Warden. My mother thinks far more about giving
pleasure to the poor than she does about the wishes of the rich. But
could you not defer this slumming business till to-morrow, and give us
the pleasure of your company to-day?"
But she shook her head, and assuring them they would get on very well
without her, she turned to leave the room, saying as she did so, "O
Lily, do find out if it is true that Aunt Mary's old governess, Miss
Drechsler, of whom we have all heard so much, is coming to visit her
soon, and is bringing with her the young violinist who lives with her,
and who people say was a child found in the Black Forest. I do so want
to know all about her. We must try and get her to come here some
evening, and ask Dr. Heinz, who plays so well upon the violin, to meet
her; and you also, Mr. Gower, for I know you dearly love music."
Had Lily not turned quickly away just then, she would have noticed the
uneasy, startled look which crossed Reginald Gower's face at her words.
Was this woodland child, he asked himself, to be always crossing his
path?
He had hoped he had heard the last of her long ago, and some years had
elapsed since he had seen her. The circumstance of the likeness to the
picture in Harcourt Manor, and the coincidence of the necklace, had
_almost_ (but as he had not yet quite killed his conscience), not
_altogether_, escaped his memory; and still, as at times he marked the
increasing sadness on Mrs. Willoughby's countenance, he felt a sharp
pang of remorse; and since he had known and begun to care for Gertie
Warden, her devoted Christian life and clear, truthful spirit were
making him more conscious than ever of his own selfishness and sin.
True, he had no reason to suppose that she cared for him in any way
except as the son of his mother, whom she dearly loved, but his vanity
whispered that perhaps in time she might do so; and if that came to
pass, and he found that his love was returned, _then_ he would tell her
all, and consult with her as to what course he should follow.
Lately, however, he had become uneasy at the many references which Lily
Warden made to a Dr. Heinz, who seemed to be often about the house, and
of whom both sisters spoke in high terms as a Christian man and pleasant
friend. What if he should gain the affection of Gertie? Heinz! something
in the name haunted him. Surely he had heard it before, and in
connection with the young violinist. And now was it possible that that
beautiful girl was really coming amongst them, and that his own mother
might meet her any day? for she was often at the house, not only of the
Wardens, but also of their aunt Mary, with whom the girl was coming to
stay.
No wonder that during the ride Lily Warden thought Mr. Gower strangely
preoccupied and silent. She attributed it all to his disappointment at
her sister's absence, and felt vexed that such should be the case, as
well she knew that in the way he wished Gertie would never think of
Reginald Gower; but she felt sorry for him, and tried to cheer him up.
Through that long ride, with summer sunshine and summer beauties around
him, Reginald saw only one face, and it was not that of Gertie Warden,
but that of the young girl whom he had heard play on the violin at the
house of the Stanfords at Baden-Baden.
Oh, if he had only had courage then to write home and tell all that he
had heard about her! And in vivid colours there rose before his mind all
the disgrace that would attach to him when it became known that he knew
of the girl's existence and kept silence. The reason of his so doing
would be evident to many. And what, oh, what, he was asking himself,
would his loved, high-souled mother think of her son? Surely the words
of the Bible he heeded so little were true, "The way of transgressors is
hard," and his sin was finding him out.
As soon as the first greetings were over, and the party were seated at
the lunch-table in Miss Warden's pretty cottage situated on the banks of
the Thames, Lily said, "O Aunt Mary, is it true what Gertie has
heard--that Miss Drechsler and a beautiful young violinist with a
romantic story are coming to visit you? Gertie is so anxious to know all
about her, for neither she nor any of us can believe that she can excel
Dr. Heinz in violin-playing; and, indeed, you know how beautifully
Gertie herself plays, and she often does so now with Dr. Heinz himself."
"Yes, Lily dear, I am glad to say it is all true. I expect both Miss
Drechsler and her young _protege_ next week to visit me for a short
time, after which they propose to go to the Stanfords at Stanford Hall,
who take a great interest in the young violinist--in fact, I believe she
lived for three or four years with them, and was educated along with
their own daughter.--By the way, Mr. Gower, you must tell your mother
that her old friend Miss Drechsler is coming to me, and I hope she will
spend a day with me when she is here."
"I am sure she will be delighted to do so, Miss Warden," replied the
young man; but even as he spoke his cheek blanched as he thought of all
that might come of his mother meeting the young violinist.
Reginald rode back with his friends to their house, but could not be
induced to enter again, not even to hear how Gertie had got on with her
slumming. "Not to-day," he said; "I find I must go home. I don't doubt
your sister has been well employed--more usefully than we mere
pleasure-seekers have been," he added, in such a grave tone that Lily
turned her head to look at him, as she stood on the door-steps, and
inquire if he were quite well. "Quite so, thanks," he replied, in his
usual gay tone; "only sometimes one does think there is a resemblance
between the lives the butterflies live and ours. Confess it now," he
said laughingly; but Lily was in no thoughtful mood just then, so her
only reply was,--
"Speak for yourself, Mr. Gower. I have plenty of useful things to do,
just as much so as making a guy of myself and going a-slumming, only I
am often too lazy to do them," and with a friendly nod she followed her
cousin into the house.
Reginald rode slowly homeward, and, contrary to his usual custom, went
to his own room to try to collect his thoughts and make out in what form
he would deliver Miss Warden's message to his mother. It was very
evident to him that the meshes into which his own sins had brought him
were tightening around him. Turn which way he liked, there was no
escape. At least only one that he could see, and that was, that if the
secret came out, and the young violinist of the Black Forest were proved
to be the grandchild of the Willoughbys, he should keep silence as to
his ever having known anything of the matter.
The more he thought of it, the more that seemed his wisest course; and
even if it should come out that he had heard her play, that would tell
nothing. Yet his conscience was ill at ease. Suppose he did so, what of
his own self-respect? Could he ever regain it? Fortune would be lost,
and all ease of mind gone for ever. Then again, if he told his story
now, it would only be because he knew that in any case it would be
disclosed, and shame would await him.
How could he ever bear the reproaches of his kind friends the
Willoughbys, and more than all, the deep grief such a disclosure would
cause to his loved mother? In that hour Reginald Gower went through a
conflict of mind which left a mark on his character for life. But, alas!
once more evil won the day, and he resolved that not _yet_ would he tell
all he knew; but some day _soon_ he might. But once again, as he rose to
go downstairs, Bible words came into his mind: "_To-day_, while it is
called to-day, harden not your hearts."
O happy mother, to have so carefully stored the young heart with the
precious words of God! Long they may be as the seed under ground,
apparently forgotten and useless, yet surely one day they will spring
up and bear fruit. True even in this application are the words of the
poet,--
"The vase in which roses have once been distilled
You may break, you may shiver the vase if you will,
But the scent of the roses will cling to it still."
Well may we thank God for all mothers who carefully teach the words of
Holy Scripture to their children.
That day Reginald delivered Miss Warden's message to his mother, but did
not mention the young girl who was to accompany her.
"Oh, I will be delighted to see Miss Drechsler again," said his mother.
"I liked her so much when she was governess at the Wardens'. We all did;
indeed, she was more companion than governess, and indeed was younger
than I was, and just about Mary Warden's own age. I remember well going
one day with Mrs. Willoughby's daughter, Hilda, to a musical party at
the Wardens', and how charmed Miss Drechsler was at the way Hilda played
the violin, which was not such a common thing then as it is now."
"The violin?" queried Reginald. "Did Miss Willoughby play on the
violin?"
"Oh yes! she was very musical, and that was one of the great attractions
to her in the man she married. He, too, was a wonderful violinist--Herr
Heinz they called him. He was, I believe, a much-respected man and of
good family connections, but poor, and even taught music to gain a
livelihood."
"Heinz!" Reginald was repeating to himself. Then he had heard that name
before first in connection with the child of the Black Forest; but he
only said, "It is curious that I have lately heard that name from the
young Wardens, who speak a great deal of a Dr. Heinz. He also is a good
violinist. Can he be any relation, do you think, of the one you allude
to?"
"Possibly he may; but the name is not at all an uncommon German one. By
the way, I heard a report (probably a false one) that Gertie Warden is
engaged to be married to a Dr. Heinz--a very good man, they say. Have
you heard anything of it?"
"I never heard she was engaged, nor do I think it is likely; but I have
heard both her and her sister speak of this Dr. Heinz, and I know it is
only a Christian man that Gertie would marry."
Having said so much, he quickly changed the subject and talked of
something else. The mother's eye, however, was quick to notice the shade
on his brow as he spoke, and she was confirmed in the opinion she had
formed for some time that the very idea of Gertie Warden's engagement
was a pain to him. As he rose to go out he turned to say, "Remember,
mother, that I have given you Miss Warden's message."