A SUMMER DREAM.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2409, 18 November 1907, Page 6

A SUMMER DREAM.

Josiah Frv’s mind was disturbed, and yet one would think that amid such peaceful surroundings, vexations end annoyances were impossible. It was a glorious June evening, and the sun was sinking westward midst a glory of crimson and gold, the birds were singing their sweetest, and the little meadow where Josiah had been busy mowing down the fragrant grass was now shorn of its beauty, but still charming in the sight of the practical farmer, who looked with satisfaction towards the prospect of a good hay-harvest. Tho quality of the grass was all that could be desired, tall and thickgrowing, and the weather looked as if it might hold good for a month. Had you congratulated him on the prospects of a good harvest, he would probably hare told you that he had not seen a better crop for years, and the weather was just right for haymaking, but for all that, hie faoe wore a troubled look, which increased as, resting from his labours, he gaied over the meadow to a little cottage jus* beyond it, and caught sight of a slight young £*ri lu a big shady hat Just emerging from the (|»rden gate and coming towards him.

Now, pretty and sweet ws the maiden looked, Josiah had a natoral prejudice against both her and her mother. They were worldly people, and the girl was by no means the wife he would have chosen for his adopted son and nephew, John Parr. It was not fitting that he should marry this girl, who had settled down with her mother almost at his door, and who was not only worldly minded now, but was likely to become more so, as her trade tended to make her frivolous. Even a Quaker maid would have been likely to become demoralised by the perpetual making of fine gowns and furbelows for the ladies of the neighbourhood, and Ella Massie Why Suddenly his train of thought was broken by Ella's gay voice. ‘ Oh, Mr. Fry,’ she said. ‘ What a lovely evening ! And how sweet the hay smells, and it is actually beginning to dry already.’ She took a little bunch of it in her bands, and pulled out a few of the big withered daisies. Then she looked up at him and continued : ‘ I expect you are too tired to speak, aren't you ? I have watched you mowing all day, and I have thought how tired you must bo. You are a good bit older than I am, and I know I get awfully tired of work, and I expect you do too.’ The Quaker drew himself up to his full height, and his handsome, middle-aged face, with its fine eyes and grey locks, looked gravely at Ella as he replied : ‘ Work is good, and, thank God; I have plenty of it. It keeps one from sin.’ ‘ Yes,’ said Ella, ‘ and I dare say you think I ought to ho still busy at mine instead of talking to you here ?' Josiah made no reply, but privately ho thought the girl looked so bright and pretty that it was a small wonder that John was attracted by her, good Quaker though ho always had been, and steady and hardworking as a man far beyond hiu age. Ella Massio was determined to make a conquest of Josiah. So she went on with a demure look :

‘ I know you think me dreadfully wicked, Mr. Fry, and I can’t think why. I don’t do anyone any harm, and I would do them good if I could.’ ‘Yes, I am sure you would,’ said Josiah kindly, for no one could speak harshly to this simple blue-oyed damsel. ‘But you see you’re worldly—l don’t say it is your fault, but you have been brought up so—no, certainly,' reassuringly, ‘ the sin is not yours.’ ‘Then whoso ia it?’ queried Ella. ‘lt must be father’s or mother’s, and 1 don’t believe that! Father died when I was a baby, but mother loved him, and mother is an angel.’ 1 There,’ don't be vexed, child,’ said Josiah consolingly. 4 You can’t put the blame on them.’ ‘ Then who am I to put it on ?’ asked Ella. ‘ That is not the point,’ said Joeiah, 4 but you must try to be better yourself. 4 Love not the world.’ ’ Ella hung her head. Then she looked up with an air of guileless innocence and said humbly : ‘ I am afraid I do love the world very much. It is so beautiful, and everyone is kind to me—but 1 should like to be better. Won’t you teach me P I will try so hard to learn.’

Josiah’s reply was not very coherent, but, whatever he said, he certainly thought a good’ deal of Ella after thin, and ho decided that although ehe did not belong to the Society of Friends—she looked as sweet and as good as any young Quaker maid—she might yet be converted, and she had asked him to teach her to bo good. ‘ And so I will!’ he suddenly startled himself by exclaiming as he pondered over the matter in the silence of his chamber that night.

A low thorn hedge formed the boundary between Mrs, Massie’s cottage and Josiah Fry’s field, and during the hay-making it was astonishing how often the grass in that corner of the meadow would need turning. Jim Barton, Josiah’s man, laughed to himself when several times in one day he would see master cross over to that side of the field, and begin to toss about the fragrant bay. It was a curious fact, be remarked, that when Ella came out to feed her pigeons or to gather peas in her mother’s garden, Josiah always found his presence was needed at that side of the field. ‘lt seems likely that we are to have a new missus,’ he said to himself. ‘ I wonder what Jack will think of it all! If ho doesn’t look sharp his undo will cut him out, aud lie’ll get you pretty lass for his aunt instead of his wife.’

' Hhtt in u frail sapling' only now,* he said to himself, 1 but she will learn and will grow, aui the mightiest oak was once an acorn.* From thia time Josiah made a point, of wooing Ella Matwie frequently, and doing his best to convert her to his ideas and opinions. He found in her a docile, loving nature, and her pretty ways fairly charmed him. The idea of having her about tf* house was certainly attractive, and yet—somehow ho could not picture her there as John's wife —the girl had fairly twined herself about hie heart, and by the time the golden harvest had come Josiah know the foot only too well.

At first he chid himself, and told himself ho was an old fool. It was absurd to think that a beautiful girl of twenty would care for an old widower of more than double her age. Still, after all, at even five-and-forty a man can love, and love passionately, and Josiah loved Ella with all the strength of his soul. He would not, of course, wish to steal her away from his nephew, but John’s had boon probably a mere passing fancy, and ho was sure—was he though P—yes, he believed bo was quite sure, that Ella loved him. One beautiful August evening, after the day’s work was over, Josiah Fry and Ella stood talking in the gloaming at her mother’s garden gate. 1 1 have been so happy this summer,’ she said, looking up at him affectionately. ‘ And I have to thank you for being so kind to mo and teaching me so much. lam trying to be good, like you, Mr. Fry.’ * You should not say that, for I am not good, but you might make me vain, and vanity would be dreadful in a man of my age,’ ‘ Your age ! Why you are not old, Mr. Fry.’ ‘ Josiah felt a thrill of pleasure and he drew up his tall, straight figure, and despite his iron-grey hair ho certainly looked a young man, for bis face was so bright and eager. ‘ Ella,’ he said, ‘/. have come hero this evening because I have something important to say to you. Ah, you smile; you guess what it is, don’t you ?’

The girl looked down for a moment, and then though she blushed deeply she gazed at him with her lovely blue eyes and said : ‘"ios, Mr. Fry, I felt sure you would say something soon.’ Strangely unlike the way his Hannah had received his advances, he thought, but it was no doubt the fashion of the world for the girl to make love a little, and not leave it all to the man! ‘1 should have spoken to thee sooner/ ho said, ‘ but I wanted to know thee bettor, and that’s why I have been so slow about it.’ * I am glad,’ she answered, ‘for I wanted to know you too. I was afraid you would uevtr care for me, for I am so different from you.’ ‘ But thou art learning our ways, and thou learnest quickly. Love is a good teacher, and thou wilt have a fond husband.’ ‘ I could never doubt that,’ she said, looking up at him with a proud, glad smile. * I like to hear thee say that,’ said Josiah, ‘ And I think the Frys have all been good to their wives and children.*

‘Yes, I am sure of that. They are good to everyone, so good that one cannot help loving them. I believe I shall love the whole family!’ Josiah looked radiant. It was strange how Ella's words pleased him, and yet they were not like those he should have expected from a Quaker maid. Still it was delightful to think how she had understood him, and no one could be mere charming or more sweet. ‘ Then thou art not afraid to trust me ? Thou thiukest I shall suit thee ?’ ho said gaily. ‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘I know it. Thev used to tell mo you were cold and hard, hot I did not believe it then, and now I laugh when I think of it, for I have learnt to love you.’ She accompanied her words with a little squeeze of his brawny hand which she then raised to her lips and kissed. Josiah felt Ids blood coursing madly through his veius. He was delighted to find himself so beloved. ‘ But, my dear, thou knowest I am five and forty, and sometimes cross and crabbed.’ * That’s nothing,’ laughed Ella, 1 1 love old men, and I feel so proud of you with your beautiful grey hair, and your straight, tail figure. You will be a lovely old man, and shall bo prouder than over of you.’ ‘But thin a, dear,’ Josiah continued, Hushed by success, but determined to lake no unfair advantage of a romantic girl’s warm feelings. ‘ Thou knowest I’m no friend to gaiety and frivolity, but live a quiet, strict life. Would that repel thee F* ‘ No, I am not afraid. Jaok always said you wore strict, but you were kind, and you had been good to him and would bo to me.’ So John had guessed it all, and perhaps encouraged Ella to meet his advances halfway, was the thought which flashed through Josiah * brain. But in a moment he was u-xtoonived. The girl continued : ‘ Jaok wanted to tell you all about it long r«o | fisough he know you would disapprove of me for his wife, but I begged him to wait. I told him, if you wore all he said—and you are—that I was sure I could make you food of me. I loved you a little already because you were Jack’s uncle and had been so good to him, and if I like people I cau always make them like me a little.’ She used, and then after a moment’s silence she went on:

‘ Only yesterday I told Jack he might speak to you to-day, and now I do believe you must have guessed it, for hero you ai o giving all that we want without our ever asking for it ; and I am so glad, for v. e would never have married without your consent !’

Darkness seemed to fell over the landscape, and Josiah Fry felt it suddenly turn odd. His face blanched, but ho uttered not a sound. Ho merely turned as if to go home. ‘Must you go now,’ cried Ella, seeing and suspecting nothing. ‘Well, perhaps it’s lime ; it’s getting dark, and Jack will be in from Birohley Fair by this time, and will want his supper. Besides, I know you want to make him as happy as you have mads me. Good-night, and thank you so much. Jack and I shall never forget your goodness !’ ‘ Good-night,’ said Josiah mechanically, and he made his way across the jfield to his own house. He staggered somewhat us he walked, and his feet seemed like lead, so that the short distance across the meadow to the farm seemed longer than ever before. For that, however, he was not sorry, for the meeting with his nephew was painful to anticipate, Josiah, however, was no coward, so he put a brave face on the matter, and entoing the parlour where Jack was waiting for him to come in for supper, he exclaimed : ‘ Well, John, business first and supper afterwards ! I want to tell thes that i know all—everything. Ella has just told me, and, lad, thou hast my blessing. She is a good girl, and will make thee a faithful and loving wife, and thou must marry as soon as possible.’ ‘ Dost thou really mean it, uncle ?’ cried John thou art kind. Ella always said thou wouldst be, when thou knowest we’d set our hearts upon one another.’ 1 Well, Ella was right,’ said Josiah, ‘and now let’s get to sapper, and after that we will talk about what we must do to make the house a bit more cheerful for her to come to, for ye’ll live hero, John, and by-and-bye Ella will be as much my daughter as thou hast been my son.’ * Then thou wilt try to love her ?' said John inquiringly. ‘ Certainly,’ answered Josiah in a jovial tone, which, however, rang somewhat hoilow. ‘Why, boy, I love her now; in fact she’s twined herself round ray old heart so that I’d like to be in thy place ! Ha, ha !’ and he laughed loudly, and John joined in. charmed that the dreaded announcement had boon so graciously and kindly received.— J. Hkwui.’