OUR FRONT ROOM.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 503, 10 January 1906, Page 7

OUR FRONT ROOM.

SHORT STORY

a Jj AETHA and I sat planning together tyj through the whole long afternoon; "iTJi'-tcf oar time with tears in our eyes, for we were not rich, and money came grudgingly to us; and a part of the time with our faces radiant with smiles. Planning how this little debt oould be paid, how that obligation could be liquidated, and how soon a sum of money oould be made to go a long way, and, lastly, but not leastly, how we could manage to furnish our' front room.' This last may seem very strange to you, reader, and, even while writing it now, I cannot refrain from indulging in a little smile. But I'll explain how it was. Martha and I were not sisters—cnly friands—though I doubt if sisters often live as harmoniously together as did we. We were but mere working-girls—so the lofty part of humanity would have dubbed as, I suppose—in the little town, upon which we could look, as we sat there and talked together. We were of those who must, to be happy, have a home somewhere —a little sacred place, or sanctuary, where the great breath of the world cannot sweep deseoratingly in. 80, in a plain, little house, out of the town, we rented rooms, and made ourselves as somfortable and happy as we could in a domicile of our making. We Ehculd have had things in much better fashion, and much more to our tastes, had not Martha been obliged to send a great share of her earnings to a sick brother.

This waß why we had to plan so much, and cni of three demands for as many shilling?, wifely judge which was the strongest. AU the winter we had talked cf famishing our > front room,' until it had got to be a sort of joke between us. Any event which we were anticipating with donbt in tba future, was placed on a level with the great one of our front-room furnishing. I was to be married when that was fitted oat, Martha would say, which meant that I should five an old maid all my life. Bat this afternoon, in particular, as the sun shone bo bright, and th« breezes carried a smell of hills upon their invisible wings, we were more than ever in earnest about the little bird's nest of a place, which we had wanttd so long. 'There's the carpet I* Martha said, crossing her arms upon my lap and looking op into my face. ' Let me see, how much did you say that would cost ?' ' Twenty yards at one-and-Hine per yard —thirty-five shillings, Martha.' • Dear me, what a lot I Then tha oartains, plain white ones will do. If we could only have laoe; bat then we can't, so the plain ones will have to do.' 1 Tben we want a table,' I suggested, ' Yes, but not a mirror. I don't care to Bee my face any oftener than I can help. Nor does anyone, that I know of, beside you.' The last was spoken a little bitterly. I understood what that meant, because I knew how much of a woman Martha was, and how, in her true heart, she was cramping all the beautiful romance of her young life, not allowing it the first ray of sunshiny hope to warm itself in. A I took her face between my hands, and Kfc aised it bo that the dying light could fall it. What a sweet, dear face it was, with its thoughtful grey eyes, purely oval outline, and pleasant, firm mouth t Poshing back the heavy, dark hair from hex forehead, I said—- • I'm rare you do not mean what you Bay, dear I' • Yea, I do, every word of it, Tessy; and! now I think of it, what a rare thing it is in this world to be poor, but intelligent Did you ever have anybody say such a thing to you?' I shook my head slowly. In the soft twilight I could see how widely open hex eyes were, and how they gleamed and flashed like two beautiful ■tars. 1 Never mind that, Martha; let us think abcut our room. What a dear place it will be. We have talked of the carpet, curtains, and table. What else do we want—oh, chairs'

She did net answer me, but dropped her bead opart my lap. I thought it would be wise in me not to notice it, so I went on talking. i Yea, chairs —not many, because our zoom is email. Then we want some '■ pictures. We will have that little pencil sketch ot yoors framed, I like it eo much.' 'Yes; and if we could only bay that land, scape painting that we saw yesterday. I mean the one where the water goes dashing down'jfrom a hillside, with a glimmer of KmHgfct upon its white bosom, and wheof the mountains lie linked along together, in the background, growing dimmier and mjgjtt in the distance, until it seems as though the last was but a cloud from the soft heart of summer, melting away against the grand arch of bine I Mr Preston thinks it is beautiful.' ■Yes, and eo it is; bat it costs a great deal. But the face that we like so much. That would do!' ' Yes, I suppose bo. But I'd like it better if it wasn't so quiet and soft in its expression. I believe, after all, that I don't like tJw passionless faces. I don't care how calm the features are, if the soul will but pour its intense light out from the eyes. I don't care that the race should be a perfect one, either, so that it has a strong, deep look, as though at times it could throw ont to the enwrapt beholder the whole wide, inner life, throbbing itself onward to the music of the one great Master-hand. No, don't want that face. Bat you can have it, Tessy I* ' No, we will find something else to agree upon. I don't care a very great deal for that. How fine it will be. won't it ? Then we will have the mantel-shelf covered over with little kniok-naoks; and the windows, do you remember ?' • Oh, yes; the morning-glory vine 3 will nearly cover them. I like that the best of all, because the scent of the flowers will bring tbe murmuring bees to us. Dear, dear l how can we wait ? Then, perhaps, we shall have a ' ' Canary V I suggested, seeing that she hesitated. ■At least, he said he should have to bring ub one,' she answered, unconsciously nfloiijng her head down in my lap. She did not need to saymore. I knew well enough who 'he' was. • ig your heart beating very fast, Martha ?* I asked, playfully. ' I have an idea that it always makes itself remarkably busy while we are talking of a certain somebody. But listen a moment; I thought I heard someone in the hall. If we have had a listener, they have been well entertained, without doubt. Let me go for a light—we won't sit in the dark any longer.' ' Wait a little while, Teasy. Let's talk a few minutes mote; I can't bear to have a . light just yet. Tell me, before you get one, how long you actually think it will be before we can furnish our nest V • Oh, five weeks, unless we get the fairies to help us,' 'Fairies will help us as much as anyone, I take it,' she answered, while I raised her bead from my knee, and went after a lamp. When the light was procured, I found a number of little things that waited to be doae, to I went about the house, and

watohed her, as she sat by the low window, looking eagerly out into the darkness. I knew well enough for whom she watohed and waited, and I smiled a little, quiet ■mile to myself, while I thought how poorly her separate actions agreed upon this one subject. When Bufus Preston was near her, she was cool and unbending as a queen. She criticised him as though the right was hers, and tormented him continually in her quiet way with her sharp-pointed sarcasms. Once in a while she would be herself before him, it is true, but not often. For the momentary glimpse that she gave him of her heart she drew the bolts and bars stronger than ever. And he was as unreadable as was she. But this evening I knew, instinotively, that Ehe longed for his presence, although she did not tell me so. I knew, too, that all day she had been glad to see the hours fly by, because eaoh one, in its going, brought the time of his calling nearer. But she waited in vain for him; he did not come, and the clocks chimed out the hour of nine. As she heard them, she rose from her seat by the window, with a sad, halfoynioal expression upon her faoe, and oame towards me. 1 Well?' I said, smiling. She looked me in the eyes, and through hers her heart told me freely of her seoret. I thought then that her faoe wa3 like the ideal picture of which she had spoken. ■Never mind,' I ontinued, 'there is another evening, Martha.' ' And I do not oare for that,' she answered,-colouring. 'I am glad everything is just as it is—that I am pcor and plain, and that ' 'Mr Preston is handsome and rioh, 1 I suggested. ■Yes. For being foolish, we women deserve to suffer, Tessy- Don't let us say anything more about it, ever. I'll put the whole subjeot in a straight-jaoket—let the light go out, and—that is all, dear.' Saying this, Martha took the lamp, and together we went to our ohamber; I to sleep, she to lie with eyes wide staring into the darkness—to hear the clooks toll for the hours as they died, and to feel what, perhaps, few women feel in life, beoause few are as strong as true as was she, that if this one delicious oup of joy should pass from her lips, she should never find strength of heart to taste another. In all life there was but one draught of nectar for her to sip. The night died away at last, and tho sun came up red and misty, and with its rising, life grew active again. We went into the town, Martha and I, to remain through the day—we were milliners, and the time was a busy one for us —and took our dinners with us.

We talked a little.cf oar room as we walked to town, bat it seemed as far of! as ever, the day when it should be fitted up to oar liking, Dear, dear 1 it was so hard getting anything ahead, after all, and we had been trying the best we knew for months. It was quite late that night when wa went home.

Afar off the shadows were dusky upon the hills, and the tracks of the day were faint and dim in the west.

How beautiful it was—l don't know why I should remember it so plainly, but it seems to me that I shall never forget it. We did not speak of our front room through the evening, and did not go into it once to speculate upon the position of euoh a piece of furniture—imaginary of course—or the hanging of such a picture, as we had done evening after evening sinoe the spring had come. Bat, in the morning, after we had eaten our breakfast, I said to Martha, patting my arm about her waist—- ' We mast just take a look at oar parlour before we go down town.' So we went into it together. Goodness I how we screamed as we threw open the door. How in all the world had such a sadden transformation been brought about? I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I was awake. Oar room was furnished I Upon the floor there was a handsome carpet, which looked, for all the world, like a beautiful bed of flowers. In one corner a little damask-oovered sofa was nestled, while, to match it, about the room were scattered chairs and ottomans. At the windows there hung long, fleecy, white curtains, and upon the walls was the picture of the dashing water and dim hills, together with the ideal face and a delicate crayon sketoh, Under a mirror was a table, and upon the table a little writing-desk, with a slip of paper hanging out from the side. Martha grasped it, while breathlessly we read—

< The desk is for Martha, the mirror for Theresa.'

Martha's face flushed crimson, and she exclaimed, the first words that either of us had spoken sinoe we entered the room : ' What can this mean ?' 1 The fairies,' I answered, laughing. 'But whose is the hand-writing? is it familiar to you?' o Martha shook her head. She was taking a peep into the little pearl-lined desk. I Who could have done this ?' she murmured. ' Sure enough, who oould ?' I answered. ■Mr Preston wouldn't do suoh a thing, would he?' I added, laughingly. I I hope not,' she replied, pushing the desk away from her. (Privately speaking, I think Martha had taken a sort of heroio pleasure, the night before, in giving up every thought of the future connected with Mr Preston. She did not relish the idea of taking her hopes out of their graves as bright and strong as ever.) • Andwhy?' I queried, a little roguishly. l Of course, if he did do all this, whioh I mast doubt somewhat, he did it for somebody ; and sinoe it oould not be for you, it must bave been for me, yon know. You ought to be as happy as a bird, Martha I : She did not quite fancy my style of reasoning, so she turned her head away, Suddenly she said — 'What can it mean about the mirror, Tessy? Do you remember what I said last night? Oh, dear, if ' Bhe olasped her hands over her eyes and retreated to the farthest corner of the room ' Someone did hear you—l know they did. Don't you remember, I heard a noise in the hall ? and our door was open all the evening. I suspeot Mr Preston came, after all, bat I take it that he played the eavesdropper.' ' Eavesdropper, Theresa? was that what yon were saying ?' said a voice, just at my elbow. I Mr Preston I' I exclaimed. 'We shall have to get car landlord to nail up our baok door so that people can't creep in upon us in this way. Sever mind, your presence is quite acceptable now. Come and see Martha's present.' He was not expecting this, and so coloured like a bashful girl, as I pointed him to the desk.

1 Isn't it beautiful V I asked. • But my gift is the mirror yonder. I take it that that means something.' 1 Where do yon suppose all these things came from ?' I added, biting my lips to repress my laughter. 1 From the upholsterer's,' he answered. ' Oh, I didn't donbt that. But how did they come here?' i it must be that some one brought them!'

1 In—deed!' I exolaimed, taking breath. ' T do not need to question you any fartherYou have told us more than we were oer. tain of before. We weren't sore that they were brought, even.' F.e laughed, and glanced at Martha. I was quite sure, then, that he wanted we to leave the room.

1 1 don't think Martha is very well pleased with them,' loontinued. •Why, Theresa 1' sho ejaoulated, looking up. reproaohfully. «How oould you say that?'

1 You want more mirrors, jou know you do,' I answered. «By the way, Mr Preston, shouldn't you think Martha would have sense enough to leave the room? Bbe knows as well as she wants to that you have something to say to me.' By the way that Mr Preston and Martha ooloured, I knew that I had expressed their thoughts perfectly. ™ But I did not care to go in a hurry, So I Btayed awhile longer. When I went, perhaps I played eavesdropper, and then, again, perhaps I didn't. But certainly, I have a distinct impression of hearing Mr Preston say a great many fine things to Martha, and of hearing her answer, in a low, soft tone, that he was dearer than anybody in the world to her; and then I have a confused idea of seeing a door suddenly opened, and—who was it that ran as fast as their feet oould fly to get out of sight, and who didn't succeed ? ADd who was married that autumn, and had the wedding-breakfast in that same front room 1 Ask Mr Preston and Martha I