WAR STORIES.

Auckland Star, Volume XLVI, Issue 72, 25 March 1915, Page 10

WAR STORIES.

THE WHITE FEATHER;

(By FRED PLANT.)

-v- "Ah, I say.-Mariari-,4iere comes a suitable candidate for one til your gifts. I mean the young fellow in the raincoat and soft hat."

Marian Heyworth glanced ahead at 1 the tall young fellow who was approach- a ing. somewhat slowly, along the foot- i path, and seeing him the gleam of ex- ] crtement that had danced in her brown i eyes at her companion's words as sud- d dentv faded. She was about to speak \ •when Janet Sandford, the girl at her > •ide, exclaimed: "There! He has turned f into that florist's shop; that will give i you time to prepare your little speech." : "I don't think I will present a feather i to the young man," said Marian. "I'll i let you do-it. if:you like, Janet" 1 "Do youbappen to-know_the man? Is t that tlip reason?" - - 1 "I don't know but. live seen , aim somewhere." repSied Miss Heyworth, j wrinkling her brow-s. "But where it • was I can't remember-f or the moment." ] "Xow. Marian, don't-let that be an ex- , cuse- Ml the man's coming this way , now. and he's been-buying white chrysantfaemftms—his favourite colour, per- j baps, and therefore he'll doubly appreciate Now. quick, Marian!" For a few seconds Marian stood irresolute, then a flood of colour came to her face and she opened her hand-bag, ax the same moment stepping in front of the young fellow-for whom ibey had lain ' in wait. His eyes were upon the bunch of flowers in his hand, and he was only . aware of her presence when her fingers, holding the white feather, actually ' touched his hand. "Kindly accept this," she said. ! She saw his face change, the flowers ' in-his hand shake, as -if-he-had- received ' a physical blow. She lowered her gaze t to his disengaged hand, and after what seemed- to her like»an age she glanced up 1 again-' and saw -3e."_"was scanning ".the « group of amused-loiterers on the side- 3 icalk;:". :.-.::;: ■ :; * i He'turned his grey-blue eyes upon her. i ."Certainly, Miss Heyworth. if it is 1 SP.ur .wfeh," he .sardy; j "Perhaps -.you ■! would like to put theffeather in my but- 3 tonhole ?" j "Oh. no, no!" she said, somewhat hysterically. • and. thrusting the feather • into his hand, essayed .to pass him. "One moment, Miss Heyworth," ho . said, and now bis face was like that of a - man facing a life's crisis. " "TMay I respectfully suggest that to distribute your . feathers haphazard—indiscrimin- . ately—i 5 not the-most scientSie method a of recruiting, and that, while you your- , self may derive satisfaction : from it, you , may unwittingly inflict pain upon those • who don't deserve it." With-an- incarnation—of-his head, and ■ without waTtingjfor her reply, he passed on. "Impertinence! How dare he speak to mc like that? he is!" said Marian, as she, too, drew herself np and joined her waiting friends "Any coward • who. won't enlist'eould offer the same • suggestion." .!;";; ;:;!/;: . But as the words raced from her lips thetyoung fellow's face, his steady, blue- ' grey eyes, the strong chin,-eame to her mental vision, and her : anger-gave-place to mind-searching. - - - Who was he? Where had she seen him before? He certainly knew iher name! But, after .a. sur-.-. .prising character. As the daughter of :the most successful lawyer in the town, and mayor of it.'for two yeans, hundreds .of people bo whom sheThad~rcever spoken jbnew her. During her father's mayor-" alty she bad attended hosts of functions and public gatherings. It was very jTobable she had met the recipient of her white feather at a public meeting •which she had attended as the-aiayoress, ehe concluded: for her mother-was-deaifc— ""What did he say to you, Marian?" asked Janet, as they walked- on to- ' gether: and sbe Cold her. "Well," said Janet, philosophically. "I "suppose we must-expect some Tesentful lemarks during our campaign. But they won't deter us. oi.course. And now I enppose it is my "turn again to hand out one of the feathers. Ah. here comes a Kksly-lcoking candidate—the man swinging tbe umbrelia, I mean." "Don't!" said Marian, placing a restraining hand on her ifriend's arm. "I mean, I havea't quite recovered from my first experience. In fact, Janet, a terrible ireadaehe has-taken mc. and I think I will leave you.at Monument Corner." Asid, much to .her friend's dfcappaint--Jnent. she parted from her at the spot mentioned, and, taking the short cut .through the park, went=*!honre. 7 For the Temarnder of-tfae-day she was .listless, preoccupied, and even the krrittkig of khaki woollen comforts for solTiiers at the front,' which Mtbento she &sd engaged in-with zest, now bored Tier. - She was glad-when her father arrived frome in the evening, and She lawyer him_self, a stout, sharp-eyed man who did -not Jook his fifty-four yeans, was equally npleaeed to Teburn to the home-nest after a somewhat busy day with the troubles -of other people. j Over dinner he inquired of Marian how -Ehe had 'fared in 'her "white feather" -mission during the day, and was not surprised to hear of its briefness. He smiled when she repeated the words of hhe tnan she had accosted, but after a moment's -thought, said:— "Well, girl, I dare say there's a deal -of truth in what the fellow said; but in any case I wouldn't advise you to follow .up the handing-out of the feathers. You're not iemperamen<taHy suited to each, activities. I thought you would soon have enough of the recruiting-by-shame crusade." "Yes, father," said the daughter. "I have quite sufficient of it. and in the morning I will return my stock of white feathers tx> more willing hands." The lawyer smiled and nodded' approvingly. Shortly afterwards he left tbv table, seated himself in his cosy chair by the lire, and opened the evening paper. ° Suddenly, as his glance fell upon a short paragraph in the column, he uttered an exclamation oi surprise. "What is it, father? Dad netre?" asked Marian. "■Well, knowing Ore exact circumstances as I do, I wouldn't iike to say whether it is bad or otherwise. But I riiuow someone who wjH_.be knocked all;: of a heap just now." returrtpd tlie parent." "Ah, poor Ronald! he has fought a brave fight to the end, and 1 dare wager his another died in ignorance of it." "Df.jvhom are yoii speaking, -is : Ronald?"_aßk!ed Marian; andTas he'did -not -reply. : -lead. It Tan-as-foßowsr^-tZ i£ " !^J[l¥ ?e '' l<, ' ;h «'«*oj-ecoEa.the death resi--dence, 14, laurel Terrace, this aftSSboh;: -after a long and painful illness. It will -~ tf* o* our late townsman, Mr.

Richard Illingworth," of the earpet-wea,v-ing firm of Messrs. niirrgworth, Gluoow and Co., who died, about seven years ago." " ~ - r ~r ~; -; -

-What were her lather, emenging^froni his shiort "spell Df' meditation. "Oh", so7you've" read it-he news? Ronald? Why young HJingworth, iof course, the son—but there, 1 don't think you've heard anything-about- the family: you were7-at~sc,Ksol «even year* ago, when 'Bacbaril. niingworhH died, and his lad—the only son, received the shock of his life—the shock that bo-ought out his manhood. It's a sad story, giriie, and Fm in the peculiar position of knowing full details of it. I was Richard nHngworth\s legal adviser; 1 drew up h-is will, and when that was done he was a wealthy man. This. was Sour yeajrs before his death, and when he was stricken with an apoplectic seizure I discovered the staggering fact that he was practically penniless. Secret and disastrous sj«culation was the cause; he had even sold-out his-in-terest in the firm. His wife was prostrate as a result of his sudden death, and I had to acquaint the son with the true state of affairs, il shall never forget the lad's_ face when my meaning became clear -to him, nor his words, Tbor, foolish dad!' he said, 'why did he not consult you before embarking on what has proved our ruin, Mr. Heyworth?' 1 had-ho answer!, and"~said so".

"" '"Well,' said the lad, the situation has to be faced, and 1 will face it—but my mother must know nothing of our true position. Bedridden as she is at present, and likely to be an invalid, more or less, for tlie remainder of her life, she has entrusted my father's worldly affairs implicitly to mc. I7p to now I have drawn a salary from the firm which I don't -think I have earned. It is true my. designs—the few I have executed —have' been of commercial: valueto the -firm, and been copied by its competitors, but for the future I intend to get down to work solid, and, if such a tbing is possible, make myself indispensable to the firm.' '"And the lad has succeeded," said the lawyer, in TebncJusion; ' vhis. artistic desighs and" patterns aTe~ to~ "Be - seeh" _ in hundreds of England's ancestral homes where rugs and "floor-coverings are. used; and. besides winning through, he has, by his work, placed the firm of ■Illingworth, Clucow and Co., on a far higher plane tharr.ever it was during his father's lifetime."- !t~ "7 —~ "How very interesting," said Marian, who. during her father's recital of the story, had knelt at his side; "and has the firm fully appreciated Mr. Tilingworth's labours!" -"I understand they doubled his salary two years ago," said her father, with a smile, "but they—the Clueows—have ; -also been aware of the pardonable de- : ception he has practised upon" liSs, mother, by-allowing, hex to assume thatn her interest In thelfirm was still intact, and have been most anxious that 6he should not forego the slightest comfort that would have been hers had her husband lived." '.~"Yes, as you say, dad, ..young Juj. Ulingworth's deception- has' been quite pardonable in the circumstances," 6aid 'Marian, thoughtfuliy; "I'm sure he is to be admired. 1 would like-to know-him." ''And I would like you to. He's real grit. I'll ask him up to see mc as soon after his mothers funeral as is conivenient to him," returned the lawyer. ~But Ronald Hlingworth was not introduced- to * iMa'fiari .whllst'-su -guest ij £' her father's. That little function took place in a street of the town two .weeks after the lawyer had read of the death 'of Mrs.~(Hlingworth". — ~* When in the act of leaving a music warehouse one morning, Marian espied her father a short- diatance away,_ engaged in conversation with another man whose face she could not see. Observing .Marian, her father beckoned to her, and a minute later the man who had occupied her thoughts many times since the day of his mother's death was being introduced to her. And as her eyes met his she took a sharp breath; her strength seemed to leave her. Ronald Hlingworth was the young fellow to whom she had given the white feather! She could have cried out in humiliation, for now she knew the full meaning of the words he had spoken when taking the feather. Her eyes drooped, then, as if through the whirring of wheels she heard her father say, in answer to something lllingworth had said, "What! You've met before?" she looked up. The steady eyes of the man she had insulted a fortnight ago were regarding her, smilingly. "Yes," he replied, "but this is the first introduction. -About a year ago I called at your office, you will remember, Mr. Heyworth. You were already engaged, and while I was waiting in the other office Miss Heyworth passed through." Like a flash the incident came fresh to Marian. It was in her father's outer office she had first seen him. Would he complete her abject humiliation by referring to the white-feather incident? thought Mbirisn, wildly. But, no! he lapsed into silence. Then, with a sigh, he held forth his hand to her father in parting. "I've been asking Mr. Hlingworth to give us a call some evening during the week, iMarian," said the lawyer, "but a3 you came up he'd just told mc that he is due at Aldershot to-night, and from there his destination is somewhere in France, at the Front." "Good-bye, Miss Heyworth," said Hlingworth, as though her father had not conveyed the information to her. She gave him her hand without speaking. "Good-bye, Ronald, and if all goes well with you, be sure we're among the first you call upon on your return," said, the elder man. "T wont forget, thank you," said ; Hlingworth, and, raising his hat, he turned away. Marian and her father separated in j front of the latter's offices, and Marias, before reaching home, met Janet Sandford, whose brother Dick was already in the thick of the fighting in France, and who. before leaving England, had vouchsafed the information to Marian i that, in addition to his carrying her photograph next his heart, his every thought would be of her whilst he was i

Janet's chief topic was the whitcfpa that Lampai.2n,~a'ntt_lier varied ex-j 'perientresntn connection ttherewith." Tlie subject was now distasteful tot Marian, and to change it she inquired '• if any nc-ws was to hand from the I speakers" brother. The- answer was in the affirmative, but tfie'letter, although its sender was.'a .seepndjieutenaoat,. bad.! .he£rQ3giay-,cefl!^^ doingl all ■right afcthe time of writing, although t "roughinj-jt" as much as were any of' the _'3hsmmies." • -" - { —"'And that reminds mc, Marian'" added ' Janet, "Dick wonders if any letters you I -have r sent-haye-gone astray; he ears j you owe him two."

[ Marian felt guilty, for the truth" ml 1 she had only written to her admirer once 6ince his departure. ' "I will" write again," ;«he said, withr holding.' the confession, for it -woold havejpained her friend, whose it was to have Marian for sisteT-in-&wT So.tMsrian wrote to Dick -Sandford; but the terms of the letter were far different from those that a sweejthear mould perv and before sealing the misgive Marian.; Jieraelf its conventional and merely friendly tone. And as the days and weeks passed thoughts of him rarely crossed her mind. It was of another soldier she was constantly thinking, one who was also braving 'his country's battles in the cause of honour and all that appertained to its prestige. Day by day 6he scanned the ne-ws- | paper -list of casualties, read the stories of individual and collective bravery in the trenches, of the pitiless cold, the ' devastating shells, the day and night risk cheerfully undertaken by the brave. AUiel. -. - ■"-.•; r. ; .' . : Then, one morning, she read that which made her cry out, and the lines ot print become a blurr before her eyes. . jLieutenant R. Sandford and Private R;' lUingw.orth, "of; the Lancashircs, were on their-way to England, both wounded, and the latter had been awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for voluntarily assisting to remove wounded comrades to; a place of safety under heavy fire, during which he himself was struck on the head by a fragment of shrapnel! "What's the bad news, Marian?" asked her father across the breakfast-table; and she pointed it out to him and he read it. "Bravo. Ronald!" he said. "But I as- ( sume you are more interested in Sandford?" "he remarked, looking across. 'TXo,""she replied, bravely. ."I am glad, I lor course, that —nothing- more seriousi has happened to Dick Sandford, but it was Mr. Ulingworth's bravery and its | I .recognition that " Here she paused, 1 confused. Her father looked at her curiously, land after-a pause said: — I •''Curious how one comes -to form -certain" opinions. I'd' an idea "that j you and young Sandford had—er— la certain understanding; in short, that he would be asking mc make one of those days whether I'd have him for a son-mi-i law." "I am no patty -to such" ah jundsrstandjng with. ihim.Tand' never will be, dad," -returned Marian, definitely. * — i The lawyer smiled and nodded, and inquired if she would' care to accompany him to see SandfoTd and * Hlingworth when they arrived at the English hospital to-which they were being brought. And Marian's answer was that it hod been her intention to suggest the same thing. So on a dull December day,- a week -later, -the -lawyer and - his daughter journeyed to Manchester," to tlie hospital" in which lay the two wounded soldiers. They were in different wards, and Dick Sandford, who was recovering from a bad wound in the leg, was the first they saw. Much 'to Marian's relief, the young, fellow" did .riot; display the~joy at"6eeingher ehe bad expected, and the reason of this was explained shortly afterwards, us Marian was selecting from a" bunch of white chrysanthemums she had brought a few blooms for the stand near Sandfords bed, and her father had moved farther up the ward to speak to another wounded young townsman whom lie had recognised.-.»•-'- • ...,-.-■. •-■£-?• '..-■'. '"Say, MaTian," whispered" SandfcTd, "why didnifc you tell mc you knew Hlingworth, and that he was sweet on you! Xow^-don!Ud«ny-ii,,.-becauave-r5SeH r .because it doesn't hurt mc. The fact .Is, Marian, 1 want you to. wipe mc but of the .-picture—that Til explain later; but Hldngwortih^— We were both carried in together out yonder," our beds were together, and when the delirium held him —it was a whether he went Wast or not with 'that gash in ha* head—iris constitution pulled him through, they said. However, in his ramblings your name was always on his lips, and he'd laugh and say something about a white feather. Yes, your name. I never could say it as tenderly as he did. Well, when he'd dodged the long journey and the fever bad left his brim I sounded him about you. He wouldn't satisfy mc, but 1 guess he didn't deceive mc. Marian, he's a 'far better chap than ever I shall be. and you'll make the speech of your life if you'll say the important 'Yes' to him. You never would say it to mc, so there's something in Fate, after all. I've discovered that fact while I mas out yonder, in hospital. Oh, yes, 1 don't mind confessing it, now I know how the land lies. Fact is, Marian. I'm engaged to one of the nicest and best girls who ever hreaahed —present company excepted, of course. She is a nuree at the Base hospital out there. There! Now go and have a look at Illingworth, the dariling of the Lancaehrres." The lawyer and his daughter found Ronald Illingworth seated in a chair, readiorg, ibis head still bandaged, and after a littte conversation Marian's father moved on in conversation with the doctor. With all 'hhe composure she could assume Marian gave IBingwoTth the bunch of flowers. 'White chrysanthemums!" be said, after thanking her. "Yes, I had am idea you were fond of them,"-she said. A puzrfed look came to his eyes. "Ah, I had just bought some ior mother the day you " He paused, then added, "Mother was always fond of the blooms, yiou see." "I shall never-forgive myself for speaking to you that day," whispered Marian, irrelevantly. "WSH you try t*> forget it, Mr. DlingwoTfch? I would do anything rf I could recall my foaKsfc words—make full atonement, if that were possible." "It is possible, Marian; bui " It suddenly occurred to-him that Ire had addressed her by bar Christian name, and. was about to apologise when, with her face hidden in the bunch of floaew she was amnanging in the stood on the low window-ledge, she said: — .."And how can I atone V "By giving mc your pflomnse that some day in <fche future I may hope to win your love." He waited tensely for her reply, saw her hands tremble among the flowern; then she said: — "1 love you already, Ronald, with all my 'heart."