Southern Argus (Port Elliot, SA : 1866 - 1954), Thursday 16 August 1877, page 4


Original Tale.

ISABELLA RANDELL'S DREAM.

Written expressly for the Southern Argus.

BY JESSIE MARIA GOLDNEY.

CHAPTER I.

We have all, or most of us, at some time or other during our life, more especially in our earlier youth, had that brief period allotted to as when we have indulged in that romantic and dreamy state of existence known as its poetry and chief charm ; but why do I speak of indulging ? Is it not rather an in-

evitable something from which we cannot escape — a fate, so to speak, and a mystery which is destined sooner or later, for a long or short time, to hold us within its power, and cast its subtle spell and charm around us in every nine cases at least out of ten, and to which we look back with a sigh, or a smile, or a thrill of pain, or perchance with a mingling of both, as the case may be, or as the fates may have dealt with us during our several and individual experiences? And would we have it otherwise decreed ? Truly I know not. When our skies are blue and smiling, the air fragrant and balmy, with its odoriferous breath— when the sweet love-birds trill their welcome notes, and the future seems rose flushed, as seen through an halo of golden radiance, then truly it would seem even as we feel our inner souls strengthened and lifted above to a higher atmosphere of love and happiness— as though this love, this spark from the Divine, which, surely was be-queathed as a heaven-blessed heritage to the sons of earth, were indeed a glorious and blessed thing; and in contemplation of life without love, which at best to the earnest and conscientious traveller, let him strive to do his utmost, proves but too often an upward struggle, a weary toil, when our hearts fail and our faces grow pale with dismay, as our feet are torn and bleeding with the thorns and briars which throng our path, and our hands ache and grow powerless amid the fray ; and with no tender word to cheer, no gentle smile to bless, do faithful heart on which to lean, or that may thrill responsive with love and hope to our own, we are quite ready to echo the sentiment so often expressed by a poet— "Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all." But vice-versa when it really comes to the other side, o the loving and losing ; methinks there is a different tale at any rate to be read. How is it when our sunny sky, that before scarcely knew a cloud, becomes suddenly overcast — for a time blackness, thunder, and tempest within at least, though scarcely seen on the surface ? — what when the first sharp pain that thrilled t.r.u.h and through, and was worse than death has in its first agony passed away? But when hope dies —dies, and in its place there steals a dull, a.hing stupor, numbing our soul's best energies and faculties ; stealing the coloring and zest from earth's fairest objects ; robbing us of that joy and pleasure of our life that made all things, seen through hope's magic glass, so fair ; and which, as the kn.II of our joys depart, at cer-tain fearful, though lightly spoken words, fall like clods on our ears ; when hearts must go on aching, and cruel paining ever and anon as the scarred wounds are handled still be felt, and the bitter cup be drained; while we suffer and are m.t. knowing that in such a s.rrow our dearest friends may not share — their loving counsel would only serve to jar. In such cases as these— and, alas ! would that th.y wer. less frequent— do we not pause and qu.s.ion whether the first brief dream, the first sweet nectar draught (for there must

of necessity be this to lure us on), had not been better left untasted ?— better that we should have been content with the moderate joys, the quiet pleasures of our life, were they ever so simple and common-place, than the high-flown bliss, too bright, alas ! often for this sad world of care and weeping, and and which too often fade into darkness and obscurity ? Would it not have been wiser ? we argue ; for truly had the love never been awakened, had we not tasted the bliss, should we ever have craved for it ? Truly I know not ; it is better for us weak-reasoning ones of clay to leave our destinies in higher and holier hands., knowing that assuredly, even as in the case of one of old, " it shall be well ;" and it is not for us to tell how bright after all the recompence and the crown to those who through all conflicts and changing scenes have been true to their trust. But this is rather a long prelude to my story, which is a simple fragment from the many which we meet around us in every-day life, though, alas ! they are not to be often found with even so fair a termination as this. The young maiden, who was once a dear friend of mine own, bound to me by ties of kindred and blood, as well as by those of de-votion and friendship, whose story I will give in her own words, as I heard it from her own lips, thus writes : — When I was a little more than nineteen, the flowery way of my life seemed as it were opened before me with all its freshness and sweetness (for I had at that time known but little sorrow, and what few clouds had gathered o'er my bright, young horizon had quickly faded away before the sunshine), and pros-perity seemed at that time to surround me as a bright halo— thus it ever is, I suppose, in the time of sweet girlhood and early youth —-then it is that we dream our fairest dreams, as we cull the beauteous garlands that seem to surround us ; and it is well that it so. It is meet that at this early season some sweet mementoes, some bright space of joy and gladness, should be ours, to which our memory can ever reflect back a grateful recollection, a fair omen of the past, a sweet earnest that in the future that once seemed so pleasant, skies that seemed so bright, flowers whose lovely tints so charmed our youthful scenes, may yet again prove bright and fair. Some of my sisters had been rather frail, delicate hot-house plants; only preserved to maturity, our friends had remarked, by the loving nurture expended on them by tender parents through childhood and infancy. But I, though not possessing a particularly robust constitution, yet was withal more free from ailments than my sisters or elder brother, and had always prided myself on, and gloried in, my young strength ; and I am also afraid that this circumstance perhaps conspired me a little less sympathising and tender than I might otherwise have been to those less fortunate ; and was the occasion of appearing somewhat impatient with my little sister Minnie, who was the shaker of my fortunes and toils, being about two years younger than my-self, ever since our first real trial, which made it necessary for us girls to leave the dear home, with mamma's loving kisses and tears on the faces of her " brave winsome children," as she was always calling us, when she would be prostrate with one of her nervous headaches, or scarcely able to speak for the cough that would seize upon her. Sometimes I think it was the fact of my own general good health that caused me often to exclaim (dearly as I loved her), as I shook up the pillows, or

bathed the poor aching brow of the patient Minnie, who seemed then so child-like and helpless — " Really, though, Minnie, I do think that if you were more careful you would not get these colds, or be ill so often." And then the soft, grey eyes would fill, and a distressed look that I could never bear to see flit over the little face an she would answer — " I am sure I do try to avoid them all I can, and wrap up as you tell me to, Isabel ; don't be cross, dear — I don't like to be bad any more than you do." And then I would kneel down and kiss the quivering lips with an almost heart-breaking reproach (for a mere child Minnie always ap-pears at the best, and never more so than when she is sick and helpless), and say — " Forgive me, darling ; I did not mean to vex you either ;" and then Minnie would stroke my hair with her little hand, and all would be smooth again. We worked at one of the fashionable shops in the city, " Miller and Davison's." I attended the counter and show-room ; Minnie was one of the milliners ; and as we were considered rather smart and intelligent lassies, and expert at our business, we were able to earn a very comfortable living We lodged with a French lady in Daisy-terrace — rather a fanciful sobriquet, by the way, but it was a whim of the son of our landlady, she afterwords told us. We had a guardian, our uncle, Mr. Ro.f Edwards, of whom more will be told presently, and to whom we had reason to look up and regard with feelings of love and veneration ; as he it was whom we remembered as the early bene-factor of our childhood, and who, after ad-vising and aiding one and another of us in turns, and establishing our brother in the position he held, almost adopting him as his son, and paying the premium for Minnie's apprenticeship, had also assisted us in our first upward steps on the ladder of fortune, for those who would surmount it must always begin at the lower end, and climb patiently and gradually up, overcoming difficulties and learning to endure the jostling of the busy crowd, who are likewise eager to make their own way to success. My sister and I, though I say it in all humility, were not content to lead a mere butterfly existence of pleasure — to sing, dance and dress. In our spare moments we perhaps rather prided ourselves on belonging to a class of people that deemed it advisable to cultivate intellect, and to im-prove what little talent had been entrusted to them to the best advantage ; hence it happened that by dint of extra carefulness and economy, and yet withal living in a fair degree of com-fort, that we managed to secure in our little bijou of an apartment— the boudoir, as it was afterwards playfully called — a tolerably well-selected library, including some of the standard works by the best authors, and few pictures (a present from dear mamma, by-the-bye), and, thanks to Uncle Rolf's generosity, as well as our united efforts, last and best, a moderate rosewood piano, which was one of

our greatest treasures, especially to me, for I from a child was passionately fond of music, while singing seemed almost a part of my life and being, and the latest or newest pieces or songs my greatest delight. I was enabled by the aid of my brother to carry on rmy lessons in a modest way from a lady instructor; while Minnie, after a short tuition, was con-tent to practise under my own surveillance. " Rather careless," as I sometimes incon-siderately remarked, in my sweeping con-demnation, when she did not quite come up to my standard, or had not practised according to the precincts laid down in my law. l am afraid I was rather arbitrary in those days ; but I have learnt since to be more tender and forbearing. Minnie's forte seemed languages more than music, though she had a nice touch, and was really not an indifferent per-former ; but at time of which I write, she was zealously devoting herself to French, which she studied with great assiduity, under the auspices of Monsieur——, who declared that Mademoiselle the piquante, as he styled her, would soon become au fait at that branch. Minnie was rather a favorite with him, while madam seemed rather to attach herself to me, Minnie was of petite height, very small and child-like, with deep, earnest, grey eyes, full of truth and sweetness, and soft brown hair that floated away from her like a cloud, and of a brunette complexion ; I was rather tall and fair, with blue eyes, and a deep color in my cheeks. Madame used to call me some-times, when she was in a good humor, as we paced up and down the verandah of a moon-light evening, arm in arm, la belle fleurette ; but this of course was very absurd of Madame, though she did it out of kindness. Well, so things went on in this pleasant, happy fashion, till I met my hero, and dreamed my first romance — too soon to waken, alas ! to the sad reality. The house next to us in Daisy-terrace had been vacant for a fortnight ; of its former oc-cupant, a hard-working tradesman, with his wife and three or four children, we had known but little ; but times were bad, and the wife was often ailing, and it seemed a hard struggle to make both ends meet ; and Minnie (who really pitied the little woman, who always seemed so amiable and cheery — so disposed to look on the brightest side, and to make light of her ailments for the sake of her husband and children) informed me that they were going to remove — Mr. Wilson had the offer of a partnership in some business, and so they were all preparing to depart. This she had gleaned partly from Madame Prossand, who, with all her good qualities and kindly ways, was the least bit of a gossip, and partly from the little woman herself. I remember as I stood in the verandah toying with a dahlia Grustave, madame's son, who used to amuse Minnie and I by his grown-up airs and en-deavors to be polite, had given me, and I felt called upon to check, as an elder sister, any growing proclivities in my younger sister ; so I said when she had finished, " Really, Minnie, it is no odds to us where they go. I wouldn't listen too much to madame, if I were you, for in future I intend to take no notice of neighbors myself." Ah, well would it have been if, when administering rebuke to Minnie, I had taken heed to be equally careful, I found to my cost. (To be continued in our next).