COMPLETE TALES

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 138, 10 June 1905, Page 13

COMPLETE TALES

by Flora Field. *Ftoih Short Stories.

ire §m * avthors., im

CCOPTRIGHT STORY.) THE WORLD OF THRINE: THE STORY OF A VILLAGE POSTMISTRESS.

*c harrf blur-Mark crystal of the, baxbed with brittle 6U.rs. | was kern, bitterly cold; | If was the first cold night ot the season. By day Iligginsville's mam .-treet. was Jioos/a welti?- -ragglr of raw earth mannned by irregular, desolate dr- j of buildings, but beneath this j ],v lid of early darkness, it look ou, /or the notice, rather it homely and tosey aspectIn the shop=s lights twinkled suggestive of gossip around sLoves whose ; gdes bloomed pink, like ripcuimj Muffled figures, with heads Lr-nt ja'aiast the sharp wind, now and then. I broke the tenor of outer lonelincs.s as people hurried to the post-ofllcc for the tvening mail. Tho po*t-offiee w.i.- the axle of tho town's social lil>; it represented the j political platform, the farmers' .-to<-k ' exchange, the women's general intelligence ollice, the imacknowlcdgerl, subtle tryeting plate Higginsville gathered there always some time be- , fore the mail opened, drawn by n com- ! mon, coQsciotis tendency to get the | most out of anticipation. In such proviDcial anchorage* excitement is j jtretehed to the \\c^>\. This night the orftre was packed and i BtcamiDg from vapouts of a diminutive; multitude und n red hot furnace. Tup. air wat unbrfathablc, the crowd restless. Every minute nr -i i.lie door opcne<l . to admit a hlnde nf chill air and a bundled-up woman or bnj, or thinlaced man. hi- board nnd high boots gugarrd with frost. Interest roused for the newcomer an instant. t.h-n wilted ivnrl pn/tifsnee peeled down again. The main was late. Monday night"s bag* were habitually heavy. Monday jugkt'.* ast-cjnbkirre habitually fidgety. Jbovc the bhufile ot' feet and spasmolic weave of \oic-r-, sounded I lie quitk, rhythmic heat of stamping leitCTt flip-cl;ip. Clip-clap. Clip-clap — a. ectje-satisfying lightning precision. A once tliis cuo»<sd. There was an instant ulovc forward. Tlie small tojt squirmed wildly under elbows to sqiut ati eye aguin-t a crack or a loekbol glass. Tlien the slide of the gpned delivery window was [>ush«l ii[>, sudenly revealing in a nii-he of licht th head and shoulders of a youn" iriman. t was a startling frame for any face; tat of the girl dealing out letters nght have posed ;i.s an illurainated rint of the modern art. It was a face tncrially young, seen so. pathetically plicate in its lines. The ey PS were oep and pray, nnd a-bove the brow Isted a soft trimbu* of hair that was jhosphorpscent. in the fine vitality or |i sparkle. IThfi spiritual and mtp||p.p.tnal 'yfio of fmun Is essontiall\- prjawised " nf a ibtle phyeieaJ acutenes*. JThis girl looked a dreamer, an idealit, a.soul in its lu*t rhrysjK.-. and nor. 4r amotaent the postmistress of a Mi.seuri village, abnost within sight ..r a-i rimoke of Kjn.-as city. Yei ph.*'»,born and bred there, and tier titUe journey into th c world had i>een n.. furner than to St. Loui- Her iatjer, Attorm-v Ciilvci hat! *** a gentleman. v scholar. aa a procrastinating lawyer with i mflia for taking the measurement of his dJut* heads and deducing their anccUl race. When her mother, who had Wn a patient invalid, died, the father Wowed, ermticaJlv. as was his wont > last thought, a belief that his doc-' Ira headl showed distinct. I of the floes ot Northern Asia. ■Xoi provision was left. The .Judge sejwd /or her the modest govermnent ■pee- It was characteristic that thererhen there was no mail for him. and rould somet.mes write him unimportant ' g»j that *.<■ net disappoint lie kindly, expectant fac.-. She lived with a tiny, deformed maid- • * aunt who IBW like a liulg eilverv ] »W« of a life. Their rambling red ' inck homestead stood at the sweet old- ! *shtt>ned end of the tmvn. Her name was Catmirinc. Alwve all ' SStS^ t **» '"'■ and ' IS r ,nl " lt,0 " ~,ttl j ~ """ ««»wr of ' Jjjplo linng and the sometime gift ,„' sJIi 0 rU * l ' " J ,h " window upended : todf P«cipiUtely, the bulk of the mail t£Ll? U ,l ' strihl "nd the crowd towned gradually away. ('atbarinr glanced over the -tu.k untiled for— SS e e %, B^f t t'.f" ,uH "'- l cards, Jeucra in unfashionable ~nvelm>ev— Lh*. ai wn y H niaH(l hrr M ""ho^ ked bI U| ; t H thPwmd '' w " H " was β-hnm , "" d " ul '" ' in ?i''ar lines. ■» the muscuUr BritMirr in; he wa, red ' SiET ,, SOraPWhU, '■'-"-." ved" i tweed ul T ;1 " ,^ter " v " f ™& ' MiS * On '" railsv:iy rif ! "- braceiTmr 6 V '", , an . vtl,in P ( °* ' l,e ,epp.,,ed »i) the clean-shaven (Jib.on frllow. ' m.?"T a " d T"- r '. y»" knew.- the ' th ft V" d Patient, - V ' sl '« »a» studying ' eC . t fra,lkl - v ' A «* of hu- ■ "It mi2E? ~ U mv " »elf-posses ion. pffively P naraei/ ' h0 rt^lied ' ira " Th?i?. id y» u ««»w I was EnglishV V ,'° n ,ras h «momu s . p% ed throush th * lettprs ' d pi i ; o :lhyin? 1 h y in? f - r™- ■ -1 •»i j feU . a "Thank?!" br onid. I )«t. hilt sl '!?ht!y. fltad stalked tafai"iYl fincere d a eheaf of Of ih« "ftaw,. AlMaace." Her

life appeared to hex newly so limited. The man just gone must have worn the world as smooth as a ball of soap between his hands. lie must have seen everything, know everything. S-h<( closed her eyes, visioning for a second Main-street with its russet litter of brown paper and empty cans, its aimless trailing down to the river's amber edge. "Have you got anything for mc?" It was the Higginsville voice. She thought she could measure the infinite difference between this and the other. "Not .to-night, Tim."' "You haven't looked." The Hig'gin.--villc voice bent itself to near a woman's gentleness. Catharine took the mail once more, found a letter for .Tim Wilson. "I'm tired." she said, in apology. "Jim, who was that';' , "1 heard 'cm -ay aver at the, hotel it's the Knglish army officer come to buy mules for the Transvaal." He frowned with alert, frank jealousy. "Ah—" "Fine lookin". wasn't he?' , Tt was the interrogation of a serf-made martyr. "Yes." -he answered, bemused. He lingered a moment, then left, swinging away with the inevitable grace of a great strength amd a glorious VOUI 11. When Catharne clo&efl the office and started home, she met liftn going in the ramp direction, and he guarded her to 11r;- gate. He had wurfced an hour in the cold fur this. He generally did the -ort of thing (mr reads about. The Knglish ollicer railed repeatedly for mail. There. were registered epistles and miscarried letters which acted as ii bridge over formality on which Catharine and he met. In addition. Jim had come to know him and if a vi , the introduction, then he went home to -upper ami rrs£u»*ed hot biscuit for the first lime ; u his life*. "You're a bigger fooPn I thought you were." remarked his bust friend, who was the local Western. I'nion and entirely an ro u rant : "Id-have seen him to Sedalia first.' , "I don't want to gpi a girl by accident or design."' Jitn replied. The Englishman remained in Higginsville buying up horses around the neighbouring country. Now and then he would iro Xi St. Louis or City. After one trip he brought Catharine a white copy cif Ilosseslti's "Blessed Datnozel." "Will you aiorept it/, he said. "You reminded mc of it, you know." '"Leaning out t ho general delivery window?'' she asked with her eyes on the first line. ' "I say. aren't you rather bitter and intolerant of your life?" "Xot that. I hope. I spc its simplicity am] its that's all. Sow md then I bent m;r wins:.-, buf. that is nprausp I am younjar. Some time 1 will i.n r broken the ibps-iirc to fly." "A .-.ad little philosophy. May 1 srive .•ou a tew books rmrr iti ;i while?" "You think they would help mc to ret away. , "" Mrr smile \va- very swept or his kindness, and he -.aw how go=saner was the trerwi of her though!. ITc i old her w.i.i his penj.le were in Kngland. jbi! a-Jced if he might call on n I own credentials. "Why not?" she asked. looking past liiu al the drug store across the way. .vhere a boy was hanging a fresh placard il the window labelled. "The Farmer's -'iimotis Chill Cure." "Yes, you may ■ome: \ ou must meet Aunt, Pattie. and hen you must talk steadily until I ell you to stop. 1 :i!U starving to hear md learn — -*fcaxvin<r." The delieatr inflection extracted any uint of personality or iiTtensity from he speech. She made no appeal. He went fo the old brick house, set n its <)ua.int garden crusted with ice. nd when he raised the brass knocker he opened the door to him graciously. V royal fire burnished to brightness the orsfluiir and mahogany n the hit; window, over which hung tiff, anciently-brocaded curtains, Catharine had placed the claw-footed table ■earing tea things and a "Wedgwood jug :lled with rose a,nd ruby-co loured •nraniiims. Aunt Pattie fluttered in and out. "aving the door open into the imnaculate placidity of her room, with its heery. spicy window gardens. The man <>f I he world. whose lostrils were keen to detect nu-k from lavender. " lirky" from "Verivert." breathed deeply the exquisite anrtity of the place, "f liiivo made you a cup of said '■utharine, •■-<> that you would feel at lome. and your appetite." The afternoon was a vivid pleasure to ier: hi- talk was of book? and travel. Ie told her of lifp in India. Japan. .gypt : his reminiscences were full of harm iitid vigour. She drank in all he p.*rribfiil. thirstily. When he had gone -he went to the lilidow and pushed back the heavy curaiii. leaning her forehead against the col window j,'l;t.s-. She was flushed and ibrat ing with a *ense of excitement. U she -tood so. -he -aw the Mjsm>* -'inj; in their window just, down the treet. taking turn* with their fieldlasses to watch the stranger out of ight. Their thin, maiden Tips were atr-ed in critiei-m. "And that." thought Catharine, makng a great mental sweep, '"was his rorld, and this mine!" She dropped the curtain quickly and uriieil to poke I he fire. Several days later she took him for a alk at -unsot up the yellow bluff above be river. "It i- the one hrautiful thing we have," he -aid. motioning to the ta.wnv windncr of water end Uie f;ir. wooded vallov. ler fare was errir in the splendent radi- ! nee of the flamiii? ITcrht. "T enme here n<l -lit. and '-it. and .-ond my hopeful lira vans to find tl.e way, nft yonder, , nd they troop from mc =o splendidly—| ut they always come bnck." "Do you never think of following hem ':" "How could I? I dpi the loan of mv \ amilr, nnd Aunt Pattie is the family. ! >"o. I will never go. Mγ Pesrasus is a t.Thlf'd of Hiesrinsvillp, liv>iir m Hitreinsvill" nats. too—oh. don't nitv ne!—think of the r*-"-t who never want o turn any unturned corners!" The winter snowed itself along, and he Englishman still remained. Several imes he went to Texas, to St. Louis, to Kansas City, but he returned with as ittle delay a≤ possible. He sent Catha•ine books as:d boxes of roses. She had ' lever owned anythins so lovely in her' tf e - -.... ._ ' ---....... j

i The long field glasses reported all, and ! the Hij.£nnsville ear was pricked- Boxes i of American Beauties had never, never 1 found a destination in Higginsville before, and the long glasses announced them with suspicion to be as big a≤ in- j fant coffins. Spring came, pushing the snow aside, j The birds began their building in the I lilac bushes, and the grand law of death ' and life rolled on. Captain Graceland went up to Kansas j City for a week. Telegrams came for '' him, which Jim's best friend received j j with long and tuneless whistles. It got j I about somehow, such news invariably ! I does, and in Higginsville a telegram and j a postal card were public property. A crowd in the post office discussed it I before the mail opened. ""It never would er been found out on I him, if he hadn't been dealin' with er ! Missouri fool "at hadn't no more sense j ; than to teilygraf him about it." | "lie's er plum rascal, that's the truth." | "Well, who'd a thought it'/ But I , told Emmie from the first he had a had j j eye. 1 took note of 'em through pa's I glasses!'' It was the Long voice. Jim Wilson came in. "i wouldn't say j anything of it, if 1 was you.' - he said j I rapidly, glancing around; "it may be I all humbug. How's that your.g heifer : of yours, Cv? I'll pfive you thirty for j I her if you say so." lie was thinking of Thrine, as h<. , called Catharine. "Well, 1 don' , , sco why we shouldn't j .say nothin' of it.' , observed Cy, lumber--1 ing ba«ik to the subject. "Eh? —why heifer's dead, much obJeeged just the same. I say 1 don't see why we shouldn't speak of it, .lim. 'Pears to mc it took thus town to -ort er rm> up on him. 1 reckon that's what he's been doin' right an' left, ehargin" the stock men j so much er head to pass their mules an' hossea as bein' healthy an' coinin' er fortune, quiet's you please! 1 should ! say that Cap'n tlraceland is 'bout as dam a scoundrel ;is Higginsville ever j scr! He's dishonorin' his gov'menf "That is not true.' . The side ilnor of the mail room opened. Catharine stood in the threshold breahtless. There was a heavy quiet. "No. howdy you know? ,, said Cy at last. •Jim turned his back: he could not see her hurt. ""Because he is a gentleman, not a thief: because I am his only friend and must speak for him," she replied." '"Well, let mc tell you one thing, missy, the less you say defendin' that man, the better!' . It wa/'one of the Lon£ voices. "Xo. he ain't come round you fer no good: we seen that all the time,' , put in another woman. ""What's his intentions towards you. I'd like to know." The Long voice was -hrill and righteous. "Honourable? I reckon not! Vou"rp just pas.-ir." his time for him: he ain't dandlin' "rouftd you for nought cl«e. The whole town has g<ir if" "'That it has. an' wonders at you, too!"' "He's just makin" l ; ghr with you!" j Tin , other Long voice \\a.» shriller, more ' righteous. "If you had ary father or j brother. he'd er cleared out 'fore hr I cleared in. I lay! Ilc'll pi'.t your name in every mouth" "Shut up!" thundered Jim. "J'm er tiilkin' about" his intention;-, Jim Wilson: what's his intentions i» all I want to know'" "I think there can be no doubt of my intentions to Mis.-, Culver, when I state that. 1 aaked her last night to be my wife." The Englishman had entered. His voice was the cold, polished tool of the world. Catharine raised her face and looked at him uns«*oin«ly. Then she shut the door and delivered the evening mail. He was waiting for her when she had finished, and without a word led her to the yellcv.- blufl' along the river. A silver slip of moon hung over the gridelin distances beyond. "I have not been true to ranch in my ! life,"' he said, after ;i tense pause. His j eyes wovp looking past all Springtime. ! "But 1 will be true now to you. I have ' bet-n —culpably weak —I rare for you. you know—l am not free to ask you to give mc yourself. I am married."' "I understand,'' >he answered—each pause widened the boundaries between them—"it was a kind lie at the lust. I thank you for it. and for the truth.! Yon have shown mo. too, some of the differences I did not know between your world and mine. Yours is great and many-coloured and wonderful, j ".Mine." she smiled: _ it was the fine | mirth of intellect .when full comprehen- j sion dawns—-""is crude and simple, and narrow, but il is very sweet and whole- , , some and real"—she broke off suddenly, ! "you took mc from it a little way. j Good-hyp—l go back."' Fie watched her follow the path they i , had come, lie sighed vcV.h an infinite . desperation. Under the hardness of his , eyes shone a great tenderness and , yearning. " "And each man kills the ; thing he loves," " he muttered—English- j men are so prone to quotations, even,at ii crisis. He tore one hand across his eyes as though he rent the fabric of a dream. i Catharine went straight to the horse- , hair and mahogany drawing-room. She opened the window, and leaning in the | folds of the ancient brocaded curtain, looked out on the shady, rutty old ' street. " ; , The tall clock in the hall ticked loudly against Uio placed silenc<\ Jim found her there. , "Thrine." he said. "I've come to ask you if you're goin' away."' | " No. I am not going," she answered i thoughtfully. '" I did believe this wasn't the place ; for you, somehow," he continued, " you ; always seemed to mc like ;i white ( in an old brown clay bowl, here. Thu I feel different about it now. If ynn went to the great cities it would only ' be to have a wire run through your; soul sooner or later. I reckon I've al- ' , ways watched you. sort of from tho '■■ other side of the road,and had my great : . ambitinons fer you to shine among the ■ big lights, but now, as though my love i ; was something like your mother's, I t just want happiness for you. I have . thought to go away and see things and l<?arn. but something has held mc here that meant more than bein . Col-j ] umbus to all that's makin , men old. oft i yonder. I have loved you ever since ' i the first time I noticed the blue of the ; | sky an' the green of the tree:-, an" everything that was good in mc has j , followed Sac whisper of yrrur name. If j

!my love can mean happiness to you, "Thrine. will you take it V The voice j was rough-hewn, and it put forth the j question tenderly, shyly, as a rock might offer a wild flower opening from hidden wells in its heart. • She raised her hands, moving , io him ; with tremulous- wonder. Out in the garden Aunt Pattie step- 1 j ped delicately along the prim path. She i 1 had been digging about the lilies of the ■ valley and pruning the moss roses, as she was fond of doinjr to the last hour j : when the days lengthened.