(SHORT STORY.) A PUBLIC SCANDAL.

Auckland Star, Volume LII, Issue 290, 6 December 1921, Page 10

(SHORT STORY.) A PUBLIC SCANDAL.

i (By G£ORGE A. BIRMINGHAM.) A scandal is an unpleasant business anywhere, especially in a village, English, Scottish, or Irish. Yet 1 think lhat Jedborough-Price was singularly ill-advised in choosing Ballymahon, a weet of Ireland village, for the scene of his experiment. He is an Englishman, and knew nothing of Ireland beforehand except what he read in news papers, lie very naturally believed that we are a wild people who care very little for morality of any kind. Up tv a point he was right enough. A man may get drunk as often as he can afford to in Ballymahon and no one thinks much the worse for him. Hβ can perpetrate almost any kind of fraud without losing | caste among us. We have the Utmost tolerance for people who commit arson or murder. But there is one kind of immorality which is utterly abhorred. Our patriots have made speeches for years about the '"distinctive purity of the Irieh race," and their boasting is justified. Wβ will not tolerate anything the least irregular about a marriage. That ie true about any place in the West of Ireland. It is particularly true about Ballymahon. because Father O'Brien, our pariah priest, though a kindly man in other ways, is a rigid moralist. Colonel Challoner, our only resident gentleman, though he pretends to be a man of the world, is very easily shocked. Mre. Mervyn. wife of Canon Mervyn, the rector, takes the view of these difficult questions which all good women ought to take. Whatever chance Jedborough-Price and hie lady might have had elsewhere, they had none at all in Ballymahon. once their position wae known. And they made no secret about it. The lady called herself Miss Smithson, even while ?he was going about leading a three-vear-old child by the hand. JedboroughPrice never spoke of her as his wife to anyone, or even pretended that ehe waa hie widowed sister. If Colonel Challoner had known beforehand what he knew a week after their arrival, he would not have accepted them as tenants for Rose Cottage, even for an hour. lie certainly would not have given them a five years' lease of that charming little bouse. Poor Canon Mervyn, gentlest and kindest of men, suffered most of all of us through Jedborough-l'rice's outrageous conduct. '"It's very awkward," he said to his wife on Monday morning, "very awkward indeed." "It'e .perfectly intolerable," said Mrs. Mervyn, "and something must be done about it at once." She meant that Canon Mervyn must do something, something drastic and decisive. He quite understood that the responsibility rested on his shoulders, •but he did not see what he could poseibly do. "I for one," said. Mrs. Mervyn, "decline to enter the church again if that ■woman's allowed to sit in the next seat—or in any other seat." "But I don't," said her husband, "I really don't see how I can possibly forbid ,£he people to come to church." "You can, and must. It's the most brazen and shameless thing I ever heard of." Canon Mervyn stroked his forehead in perplexity. He fully admitted the enormity of the scandal, but he did not believe that he had a right to forbid anyjme, even a notorious sinner, to enter the church. He waa relieved from the necessity of making an immediate ■decision by the entry of the parlourmaid, who said that Colonel Challoner "wished to see him. "Show him in at once," said Mrs. Mervyn. • "Pleaee, ma'am," said the maid, "he says he wants, to ccc the Canon on particular business, and I thought it best to show him into the study." Canon Mervyn went to the study at once. "I'm sorry to bother you, Mervyn," said the Colonel, "but well have to take some steps "about this fellow Jed-borough-Prioe and his lady—Mies Smithaon, or whatever her . name is." Canon Mervyn stroked his forehead again. He had not escaped from his embarrassment, though he had left his wife hehind him. Miss Smithson was the lady whom Mrs. Mervyn -wanted him to excommunicate. "It won't do," said Colonel Challoner. "It really won't do here. We are not ■overparticular about moet points of morality in Ireland, but these irregular unions—you know perfectly well, Mervyn, that the people won't stand it. There'll be rows and every kind of unpleasantness unless we can get them cleared-out of this." Canon Mervyn. sajv the difficulty from that point of view just as clearly as the Colonel did. Public opinion in Ireland is apt to express itself in violent ways. It might easily happen that Jedborough•Price and Miss Smithson might find themselves one day with a booing crowd ai their heels in the village street. They might even be stoned. They -would certainly be boycottted and the windows of Rose Cottage would be broken, which would be almost as disagreeable for the Colonel as for them. All thie Canon Mervvn understood well enough, but he did not see how to avoid •the unpleasantness. "Father O'Brien was talking to mc about the matter this morning," the Colonel went on. "He feels very strongly that we must put a stop to the scandal at once. In fact, I gathered that he means to be naety about the whole business. His point is " "I -see his point all right," said Canon Mervyn. "Corrupting effect of a bad example in our midst and all that sort of thing," said the Colonel. "You and I may not agree with him, but " •'I do agree with him," eaid Canon Mervyn. The Colonel took no uotice of this. '"You and I," he said, "as men of the world, know that this kind of thing doee happen, and, of course, we don't want to come down too heavily on the offender." It ie very nice to be called a man of the world, and most clergymen appreciate such a compliment. But Canon Mervyn was not quite sure that he lik*4 it. He did not want to be too hard on anyone. But he could not pre- : tend to be indifferent to the conduct of Mr. Jedborough-Price and Miss Smithson; especially Miss Smitheon, who not only came to church, but actually had the nerve to bring her child with her. '•"But all the same," the Colonel went on, "we can't have it here. It'll upset the whole place if it gees on." '•What can be done?" said Canon Mervyn. "It seems to mc, said the Colonel, " that it'e your business to represent matters to them in a proper light. After all, they're your more or lees. She comes to church. If ehe'd gone to Mass it would have been Father O'Brien's business."

""But what can I do?" said Canon Mervyn. I "Tell him to clear out," said ttoe Colonel. "Put it nicely, of course. Talk aibout all the lunpleastfittneee there^l, be if they etay here; appeal to their! better feelings, and all that: but make j it plain that they must go. If they want to live in that kind of way they ought to go to some large city where they'll not be noticed —'Dublin or Glas-1 gow or somewhere. In a email village like tllM it simply won't do, and you must tell them ao." "Why don't you tell them yourself? - ' sard Canon Mervyn. "Fju not a clergyman," eaid the Colonel. "No," said the Canon, "but it'e your house they're living in. You let it to, them. And if they're to be turned out you're the proper person to do it." The Colonel, as a fair-minded man, had to admit the force of this contention, 'but ho had his answer ready. "I can't turn them out," he said. "I've given Jedborough-Priee five years lease of the house, and I can't turn him out, no matter how much I want to. 1 would if I could: and I needn't tell you. Canon, I wouldn't have let the house to him at all if I'd known he meant to bring a woman like that with him." "She doesn't look that kind," eaid the Canon, "not in the least. She seems— I've only spoken to her onee —but she seems a very nice young woman, not at all the kind of person yon mean. , ' "Nor docs he," said the Colonel. "'ln fact, from what I saw of him when we were negotiating about the house I'd have said he was a thoroughly reepeetablc, decent sort of young fellow. But [ there the facts are. I'm. told her I letters are addressed to Miss Smithson. They certainly nmke no secret about the state of affairs." "'I don't see how I can pcwsibly fores them to go," said the Canon, "if they don't want to." The difficulty was obvious. Canon Mervyn had neither authorit" to command nor any means of persuading. The Colonel saw that, but he also saw quite as plainly as ever the impossibility of allowing Mr. Jedboroußh-Pricc and Mies Smithdon to continue to outrage the moral sense of the neighbourhood. "Couldn't you"—he eaid—"couldn't you persuade them to be married? Hang it all, Mervyn, that really i? your business. And why shouldn't they be married? What possible objection can they have? They're juat the sort of young people that ought to be married. And if you marry them—it'e a bit late, of ooiuree—but still, if they consent Ito your marrying them even now, I expect it'll be all right. Father O'Brien won't want to raise a row. I'll.aek them to dinner. Your wife can call. That's the thing to do, Mervyn. Talk them into getting married, and everything will be all right."' Canon Mervyn was not sure that his wife would call on Miss Smithson, even if she became Mrs. Jedborough-Price that very day. But he did not ccc how he could refuse the. mission, which the Colonel suggested. It was plainly his ■duty to try to persuade the young couple to adopt a better and-less scandalous way of life.