Chapter 107269180

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Chapter NumberXCII
Chapter TitleMAURICE FINDS A C0NSCIENCE.
Chapter Urlhttp://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article107269180
Full Date1884-06-16
Page Number7
Corrections0
Word Count4180
IllustratedN
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleEvening News (Sydney, NSW : 1869 - 1931)
Trove TitleThe Orphan Cousins
article text

ORPHAFcOUSiS.

MATJEICE FINDS A CON8CIENCB.

Maurice did not expect to see Louisa Frantz again in the village, or rather in the part. He had parted with her on the morning of the day he met William, and the young lady was going

to start the nerfc day for the city, on the vieifc that she had previously told biin she intended making- to her aunt. The arrangement for the time of this Tisifc was made between her mother and her aunt, and she was in a manner com pelled to go at the time they appointed, although for certain reasons J' Lou' was not bo anxious to leave home for the contem plated visit as she had been a few days before. William was anxious to reach the city as soon as possible, with the hope of finding his sisters; and knowing that * Lou' would also he there, Maurice did not try to restrain his impatience ; and, taking an affectionate .leave ,of Norah^ they h&th started for New York. crt, relating to William his adventures while they were separated from each other, Maurice re frained from telling him about the death of Mr. Adams, and of what he had learnt about the will ; for he knew that for the present all William's time would be devoted to find ing Mary and Kitty, and the thought of having important business elsewhere would not aid in the search. He knew that William would not neglect the business of finding his sisters for the sake of going to New Orleans to get the money left him by Mr. Adams ; and, therefore, it was nob necessary to tell him any thing about it until he could go. He withheld the information partly through the influence of a ?whim, intending to give William an agreeable surprise. The day after reaching New York, Maurice and William thought seriously about commencing the work of finding the girls, and o£ never ceas ing the search until their object was accom plished ; but they soon learnt that they could

not be fully occupied. They must wait tor time or fate to aid them. They called at the place where they had last heard of Mary, and made another unavailing attempt to learn something concerning ber from the people of the House. They then had advertisements published in two or three of the daily papers. This seemed all they ceuld do. Before parting -with * Lou,' Maurice had made arrangements with her for their meeting in the city. They used to meet in the park, in front of the city hall, and walk for an hour nearly every day. Often Maurice would call and see her brother Herman. The office seemed something like a home to him ; he had passed bo many hours in it. Frantz always seemed to receive him in a triendly manner, and Maurice often n:oJ to sit for an hour or two at the table where he had passed bo much time, and read the news of the day. One day when he was in the office, * Lou * came in to see her brother. Her eyes met those of Maurice for an instant, and the gaze of each was withdrawn. Had Herman Frantz closely watched the appearance of both, he would not have formed the slightest suspicion that they had ever met before. This was deception in ' Lou,' yet we hare said that she was simple and artless. So she was ; but she also loved, and young love is nob unmingled with fear. She ~was afraid of her brother and aunt. They wers sarcastic, and ' Lou ' was romantic. She would not spoil the first little romance of her existence. In New York, Maurice partly awoke from the blissful dream that had come over his soul while living in the quiet country village and walking through the park with the beautiful / Lou/ There was much toil, care, and agony of mind for him in the future. Conscience told him that he was wronging himself, injuring his friend Herman Frantz, and destroying th& future hap piness of /,Lon/ by winning her affections. ' I never will marry Louisa Frantz/ thought he, ' without the consent of her brother. That consent 1 can never gain. The little friendship that he professes and may have for me will never allow him to introduce me to any o£ the members of his family. His family pride will never allow him to consent to even an acquaintance between his 6ister and me ; and -the idea of a marriage between us would, in all probability, nearly

drive him mad. It is folly 'for me to think any more of ' Lou j ' yet how can I forget h.sr ? Knowing that ' Lou/ can never be mine, it is wrong for me to meet her, or to meet Frantz as a friend, while I am, unknown to him, trifling with the affections of his only sister. I must do it £no more. I must break off all communica tion with ' Lou/ even if I hare to break my heart in doing eo.' Maurice thought long and seriously on this subjeet, and couEl see no other course for him to pureue -with honour than to Eee 'Lou.' but once more, at least 'for the present, fie had some hope ; for what young man is without it ? He was young, and willing to toil and wait. It -was possible for fortune to aid him in some unusual manner. Perhaps he could in some way gain wealth or fame, or both. The 'pride of Herman Frantz might in some way be humbled. His only hope was in time and fortune ; honour commanded him to see '?Lou ' once more, and in that interview to try and convince her of the neoesBity of trying to ferget him. * I'llnot say too much about that/ thought he, * for a^ young girl soon- forgets a lover. ' Lou' will forget me} marry another, and be happy* I must not prevent her from .doing so. If I could be capable of stealing a sister from the man who claims to be my friend, I should be unworthy of * Lou;' and if she will not wait for me a few year«,, Bhe is unworthy of the great love I have for her.'

CHAPTER XCril. A WALK V7TTH 'LOU.' On the morning after the reflections recorded in the preceding chapter, Maurice met 'Lou' by appointment in thetpark. ' Louisa/ said he, after they had turned into a path that seemed the least occupied by others, ? do you know that it is very wrong for us to meet each other as we do ? ' * No Maurice. What makes you think bo ?' ' If your mother, aunt, and brother knew of our meeting in this way, would they not try to pre vent you from seeing me again ?' * Yes ; I believe they certainly would.' * Then 1b it not wrong for you to do what they would not like?* ' Yes, as a general rule.; but, Maurice, there is no harm. in my seeing you, -whether other people think bo or not. If I thought so, I would never see yon again ; but conscience tells me there is no eril in my meeting you, and I care not what others may think.' Considering this argument Bet aside, Maurice tried another. ' Your brother and I are acquaintances ; he professes to be my friend ; but if he knew that I was secretly trying to gain the affections of his eifiter, he would, immediately become my enemy, la it right for me to deceive him ?* 'Maurice/ exclaimed 'Lou/ stopping short, and turning her gaze full upon bis features, 'you don't love me. You wish to see me no more.' * I do love yon with my whole heart, Louisa, or I would not have spoken to you as I bare to day/ * Then tell me what it is you wish/ * I wish to be worthy of your love/ ' So you are, or you never -would have won it/ ' I wish to continue worthy o£ that love/ ?Well, whatthen?' ' I wish for the good-will and respect of your telatives and friends/ ' ? I am beginning to understand you, Maurice/ ?jThen yon will no longer doubt my love f 'So, I will not.' They walked on for some distance in silence. 'Lon ' was the first to speak. « I will not consent, Maurice, to meet yon no more/ said she. ' Desert me, if you will ; lean not prevent that. It may be wrong tor you to deotlTe tor brother, and I do not wonder at yonr wanting tJi» respect of toy friends. Yottwnld -h*7» ifcw weywere aewell acquainted with you as 'lamj bn- they are not, and never will be. I know not what we should do ; \ only know there in no harm in my loving you, and in' our meeting tare. U &ere U. I wiSutlll be guilty of ifc.' 'Bniwbit ?hafildoF MkedManrfce, 'Snail1 ItellfMirtrotber that % have metjwwf^ii

I admire and love yon, and will seek your society on every possible occasion ?' 'No; he would then send iae home, and write to my mother to mekeepin thehouse. Yon say it is wrong for you to deceive Herman Tl can believe that. See him no more/ 'But, Louisa, I have pride as well as your brother — pride that will not allow me to steal from his guardianship the object of my love. You are worthy of being won in an honourable manner. Louisa, we are both young. Can yon wait for me ? Will you give me tame to make myself worthy of you ? Can you wait long and patiently, without eeeing me Or hearing from me in any way?' * Yes, Maurice j very l0Bg.* ' How long ?' * Until this time to-morrow/ ' Hut supposing to-morrow passed, followed by weeks, months, and years before you could eee me again, eould yon meet me then as now V 'No. The longer we might be separated from each other, the wilder would b» any joy at meeting you again j but, Maurice, you do not love me as I have hoped and believed you did, or yon would not think of torturing yonraelf and me in the manner you have mentioned. I understand what

you wish, Maurice. You want time to make money and a position in poeiefcy, eo that my friends will think you are worthy of me; but because they do not know your worth, why should we be punished for their ignorance? I will wait for yon,, Maurice. Gratify yonr pride, and you will also please mine. Yonr -wishes shall- be my law in all things but one. I do not eee why we should be deprived of the pleasure of meeting while yon are struggling to become what you desire. Let us see each other, and I can cheer you in your toil/ Maurice soon learnt that he could accomplish nothing by contesting with ' Lou.* Her argi - merits were too strongly backed by his own in clinations, and he only succeeded in obtaining from her the promise that she would reflect on the subject of their conversation. They parted, with the understanding that they should meet again at the usual time and place the next day but one. CHAPTER XCIV. A IiAWYBE'fl ADVICE.

After parting with * Lou/ Maurice walked up Broadway without any definite purpose in view. Mechanically his steps turned towards the office of Herman Frantz ; and on arriving near .it he paused for an instant, undecided what to do. Why she he go in f Con science told him that he was acting an unmanly part, and deceiving his friend Frantz. Knowing that familiarity with disagreeable thoughts did not reconcile him to the cause which produced them, Maurice walked into the office, believing that the more conscience troubled him in the presence of Frantz, tho more strength he would gain to resist the wrong thai- awoke that conscience from its slumbers. Frantz was writing, but put' down his pen and epoke to Maurice in his usual pleasant tone-. ' I see yon are advertising for your cousins/ said Frantz, af ber they had discussed the last news from Mexico. * Do yon hear anything of them yet?' 'Noj not a word.' * That is very strange indeed.' Maurice sat down at the table he had -formerly occupied, and tried to read ; bat all endeavours to concentrate his thoughts on the paper before him were in vain. He was too deeply engaged with his own affairs to heed those of others. * Maurice/ said Frantz, ' you don't eeem your self at all lately. Ever since you have been in town, I've noticed that you are in a very dee ponding mood. What is wrong with you ? Are you in what some people call ' love ?' ' 'Yes/ * And the fair one, I suppose, proveB unkind?' * No ; that would not trouble me long, for I have pride that would soon conquer my love, and make me pity the one who would reject me.' * Then why are you bo downhearted over it?' ' Because the girl has relatives who think them selves far above me. The very idea of her marry ing a poor, friendless vagabond like me would drive them distracted/ ' I suppose the girl's people are wealthy ?' 'Yes; and move in good sooitty/ * But she herself has no objection to you ? — she : loves you ?' 'Yea/

* Then why don't you run away with her ? I thought, Maurice, von had a braver heart. You don't deserve her if you don't taEfe her/ ' Shall 1 fake her from a good homo to one of poverty ? She has relatives and friends — shall I make them her enemies f * Nonsense ! they will make ft up with her and you before the honeymoon i» over, and give yon a start in tha world with money/ 'I think net. They have great family pride/ ' That will make them the »ors willing to do something for the husband of the girl. Bun away with her and marry her, and yen will be all right. You are young, good-l-x-king, rather intelligent, and have excellent habita, — you are everything a father should desire for a sonin law. Bun away with her/ ' But I could only Bupporyher in poverty/ 'But yon will get money if her people are wealthy. I am bo positive of that, that I will lend what you may now require, and yon need not pay me until you handle some of the money you will get with her. If you have a chance to make a fortune, and of making yourself happy at the same time, go and take it- and don't Bit moping here/ ' But would that be acting honestly ? ' * Acting honestly ? Of course it would; end yon will lsa acting dishonestly to yourself and. the girl if you don't take my advice/ ' I'll think of it,' said Maurice ; and he bade Mr. Frantz ' good day/ ' Little does Frantz know that the eirl-i love is

his sister/ thought Maurice as he gained the Btreet % ' and how suddenly his ideas would have changed as to what was right, had he heard the conversation that took place this morning be tween 'Lou' and myself. His pride and selfish ness do not permit hi-m to see any harm in my gaining the affections of some wealthy merchant's daughter, and taking her from her home ; but how shocked he would be at the Idea of my run ning away with his sister ! He deserves to be taught a lesson, but that lesson I most not give. My pride will not allow me to humble his/ Maurice returned to the National Hotel, in Courfclandfc-streei, where he and William were staying. He retired to bis room, and Bat down to reflect. As he thought of 'Lou* — of her wonderful loveliness, of the peculiar charm in hes conversation, and of her love for him — he was certain that he could never be happy without her. Then came the full realisation of Ihe magnitude of the obstacles to be removed before he could take her, with the consent of her brother and other relatives. Hope nearly died within his soul. The chances of his ever gaining 'Lou' without following' the advice of her brother were a thousand to one against him. Long and strong was the struggle between conflicting desires, but pride again triumphed. If he were worthy of Lou/ and she of his great lore, she was worthy of being honourably won, and not stolen. *Ah, Herman Frantz/ thought he; 'you have much family pride, of which you are even vain ; but proud as you are, high as you think youraelf in the scale of humanity, and low as you may think I am, my pride is more noble than yours/ There was more truth in these words than Maurice knew of at the lime. CHAPTER XCV. AS ADVSB.TISEKE!$T ANSWERED. In the afternoon of the -day on' which Maurice had received the advice from Frantz, ha' was con versing with William in the reading-room of the hotel, when a waiter came to tham with the in telligence that a man was inquiring lor them at the offloe. ' About the advertiflBmant, I hope/ exclaimed William. ' Show the mm in/ h* added, addres sing the waiter, who retired, and won after re turned, followed by a wetUdraafed* thin, pale, melaiwholy.lopking youtfcuWKjh at if too often B»ni4lWlfcitl«B * WHlot m fin foro genttimjin fe Mtdovtot V naked the young nan, feBSajpag 1ft » viw» rwpein bUng&fcto! an old woman. ' That is my name/ answered William^ gome, what excited by the anticipation of hearing from *3@talXjfiahfc» speak *? foufor »ninuto or

' Is that business concerning an advertisement -you have seen in the papers f Asked William. After a little hesitation the young man answered 'Yes/ ' Then there is no objection to your making your communication in the presence of my friend/ said William » 'for we are working to gether. We are a brace in the hunt/ The man did not seem quite satisfied with this arrangement ; but, evidently unable to make another, he drew up a chair, and sat down near them. 'I see by the advertisement that you wish to find Mary and Catharine Lawior/ said he, 'and that you will suitably reward anyone who will in form you where they are to be found/ * You are quite right/ «aid Maurice, * Go on/ *WelL I don't want monay, because I am well off— I might say, exceedingly well off ; but for the information I shall want something. \ shall sell it, and make as good a bargain as X can, I have had sraoh trouble — yes, exceeding much trouble — in gain ing this information, and I intend to profit by it/ rVery well/ said William, who was becoming impatient, * let us know what you can tell us,-and then state your' terms/ * The nature of my business wants a little in troduction, although I intend to be exceedingly brief, considering its importance. In thefirst place X must convince you that I know something about the young ladies you wish to find. They told me that they had a 'brother Wil liam, and that, when last they heard of him, he was working in a saddle and harness shop at No. — Ninth-street. Is that right ?' ' Yes/ 'You must know that I was acquainted with the young ladies. In fact, we lived in the same boarding-house for a while ; and the truth is, I became quite struck with the exceedingly beau tiful appearance of the youngest girl, Kitty/ ' That will do/ exclaimed William, becoming more impatient and. excited. * We don't want to hear anything about that, but where the girls' can be found. Will you tell us that ?' 'Yes; on conditions. I can tell you where £itty is living. She is kept secluded, and I have no opportunity of seeing her. I do not ask you to use any influence over her mind on my behalf ; but, if I tell you where she is, you must promise to give me an opportunity of Bpeaking to her. I want her for a wife, and will only take a refusal from her own lips. She invited me to call on her once ; but circumstances prevented our meeting, and changed the -place of her abode. I found her

again after a great amount — yes, an exceedingly great amount — of trouble) but whenever I have called at the place 1 have always been refused admittance. I don't believe the fault is hers; I believe she would eee me if allowed to do so. She is a prisoner, and never goes out ajone/ ' Who keeps her a prisoner ?' asked Maurice. ' I have been watehing affairs now for the last two months, and learning all I conld ; but your question is difficult, exceedingly difficult, to answer 5 the people la the house keep her a pri soner, I suppose, for she is never seen unless some one of them is with her ; but the man who calls every day to see her is named Henry Mann. £ learnt that in an exceedingly ingenious man ner/ Maurice and William stared at each other with an expression that the young man, whom the reader has probably already recognised as Peter Perkins, could not understand. * In whatever manner the girl may be living now/ continued Mr, Perkins, ' I am willing to make her my wife, and forget and forgive all/ William slowly rose from his chair, and Mau rice, well acquainted with his ways and appear ance when under excitement, could foretel an approaching storm. ' William, sit down/ exclaimed Maurice, in a low and impressive tone. ' Leave this man to me/ William obeyed. ' Now, young man/ said Maurice, addressing Peter, 'can you tell me anything about the eldest girl, Mary ?' ' I don t know where she is living/ answered Peter; ' but I can tell you who does know, and that is Mr. Herman Frantz, a lawyer in Broad way t however, he will not be so exceedingly foolish as to tell you/ Maurice and William again exchanged glances. ? * 2Jow tell me where the youngest girl Catharine is living/ said Manrioe. ' But Mr. Lawior ha» not yet promised what I

require aB a consideration for flie Information. ' No, and he will aot. Had you oome to ns in a straightforward and manly way, giving us the information we required, and trusting to our sense of right for granting what yon wish, we could not have well refused yon | but you axe ft fair sample of the youths brought up In this won derful city. You have overreached yourself by low cunning and distrust of others. Xou— J * Then I mar as well go/ said Mr. Perkins, rising from his chair. ',No, you don't/ exclaimed Maurice, springing up and placing his hand on Peter's shoulder 'Tell me where Catharine Lawior is living, if yoo. know, or I'll strangle you where you stand. If yon cannot act like a man willingly, I'll com pel you to do so/ When Peter Perkins came to the National Hotel to^see William, he only expected to see one person, and that a simple journeyman saddler from the country. He had a very contemptible opinion of young men from the country; and thinking himself to be, as he would say, ' exceed ingly clever/ having been brought up in ' the smartest city in the world/ he anticipated no trouble in making William agree to any terms he should ask. When brought before two fine-looking, intelli gent young men like Maurice and Wmiam, Mr. Perkins was a little disconcerted; but having gone too far to tarn back, Ms immense eelf -con- ceit enabled him to maintain the conversation we have given. The only means Peter ever used in contending with others was low cunning j and to the demand of Maurice for the address of Kitty, , he answered, 'You will find her at Mrs. Whar ton's. No. — , Sullivan-etreet/ He was then allowed to depart, which he hastily did ; while Maurice had some trouble in prevent ing William from following him into the street, and giving him something that would assist him in remembering the visit. (to be continued.)