The Mantle of Elijah.

Northland Age, Volume 3, Issue 20, 18 December 1906, Page 4 (Supplement)

The Mantle of Elijah.

The end hud come at 1 as it always docs to love win it r not sanctioned by law and iii<> Church. The end had come, but lie did not think so as lie sat that dull December day beside the woman who had loved him so well, and waited for him for years, lie did not realise things as she did. Yon could have told this by the peculiar set look of her face, as she let her hand lie passively in his. Where love is concerned, a woman is more far-sighted thou a man. He might have noticed it, too, perhaps, but it did not suit him at that painful time to encounter the direct gaze of those calm, brown eyes. “ You think it best clear ; you really thiuk it best?” lie reiterated for the hundredth time. She looked at him pityingly. “ Yes,” she said slowly, “ it is best—if you thiuk so ” The sound of his own voice seemed to encourage him, so he

went on : “ You know, Angela, how I’ve tried and tried; you remember you said yourself I had better many —marry a woman who can place m& in my right position, so that I can get a chance at least; the competition of the day is more than a man can battle with, and I have genius!” She drew her hand wearily over her forehead and pushed hack the thick hair. If only ho would not go over the old ground so often; she felt stifled, and the things in the room seemed misty and far off. “ Yes, yes; it. is all right 1

You are not physically tit t< fi.ee the world. No man could have tried more than you have, and, ns you say, you have genius.” •• You think so ? You r ally think so ?” ho cried ear fly, Inking her other band; ‘ you are so cold about it. It seems to me you don’t care, whilst I lam breaking my heart; but it won’t alter our friendship. I shall see you just as often, and I shall be able to help you. Just think of the good times in the future when I shall be rich!” Angela rose quickly. “ It is very hot,” she said; “ the fire is too large for this small room.” Hugh St. John looked after her wistfully as she went acioss and stood by the window. The room was so fall of shadows lie could not see the expression on her face. Somehow his conquest of that season’s brilliant heiiess did not please him so well as it had done an hour ago. And yet whose fault was this ?—certainnot of Angela. No woman could have been sweeter about liis engagement than she had

been. He had [paved his way with letters, and now the inevitable interview had come. She was so part and parcel of his life that he simply could not realise that his marriage could part them. What he really thought could happen lay as indefinite unformed schemes in his mind. That was the difference between them. To her it was clear as daylight. His gaze rested on her face as she again took her seat, this time facing him, and with the waning light full upon it. He saw only the slight form of a woman who had

all her life battled with the world, a woman whose soul was true as steel, aud whose lips could frame no lie. A few lines had appeared on the broad forehead ; the thick masses of hair began to show a few silver threads. To him it was the dearest face in the world, aud one that had always had a smile for him, come what might. The brilliant, well-dressed beauty of his future wife could never fill him with the yearning that came upon him as he watched the sensitive drooping mouth and the straight gaze of those expressive eyes. Tenderness and strength together. He rose. “ Then, good-bye, Angela, I shall sec you again directly I come back to town.” He felt her frail form tremble as his arms released her, hut there was no sign of w< akuess as she held open the <h>or, and he made his way downstairs. “Plucky little woman!” he thought, with a sigh of relief, as he went along to his tailor’s in Piccadilly; “ how well she took

it —never evCn shed a tear!” And that latter thought almost raised a feeling of discontent as he made his way to his chambers. It never occurred to Hugh St, John that the women who sqffer most have fewest tears. In the deepening twilight of the room the woman sat and pondered. So it had come to this. She had peacefully given up the man she had loved for five years. Five years out of a life means a great deal; to many women it is the partial loss of their beauty and attractiveness. But the woman who sat there cared little for men—she had loved one. Put all her eggs into one basket, as a foolish woman is apt to do. She had done all she could for the man she had taken into her life, and had failed. Had she altogether failed, or had she been an instrument in the formation of his character ? Had she taught him any good? Truly, if self-reli-ance, indomitable courage, and truthfulness could help a man, she must have helped him. But Angela Eversleigh only saw the present; her heart was too sore as yet to take the whole piece of work and examine the general effect.

“My God !” she murmured, as the two or three scalding tears trickled down her face and fell upon her black dress ; “help me to he strong.” And it seemed to the girl that in her darkest hour came the greatest joy, for the message came as if in inspiration: “Work

on; success will bless your ef- < forts—only work on.” Angela fell upon her knees. The tears upon her face had j dried; a new life had dawned, 6 and the past was free from re- ’ gret. | # # # * A hushed crowd stood before j a large picture in a room in j Mayfair. So great was the f press around it that two well- g dressed women gave up hope, £ and sank back exhausted on the | nearest settee. { “It is all very well for you, t Eva,” said the younger pettish- { ly ; “ you’ve seen it, I haven’t, c

i and I must get a glimpse. Everyone is talking about it; one feels foolish not to know.” “ Speaking of a thing and knowing about it are two different things,” said the elder woman cynically, as she adjusted her lorgnette. “ Don’t try to be sarcastic; I know it suits your style of beauty, but spare me, and tell me about the picture, as we can’t see it.” “ Well, as you know, the I work is by a Miss Angela EversI leigh, and, although she has I painted before, she has never | done anything remarkable. The I Magdalene those people are obI souring from our view is supI posed to be one of the finest modern pictures. She has made , 1

her name, and is aJfamous woman. You must htee heard of her ? Your husband and she used to he the most .intimate of friends.” “ Indeed ! I cannot he sup posed to know all the’ Bohemian acquaintances of my husband’s bachelor days.” “ Well, you can hardly place Miss Eversleigh in that category. I believe she is very well horn, and poor from no fault of her own. However, Ido not think she cares in the least for society, so you are not likely to meet her. Here comes your husband.” When the crowd had thinned, Hugh St. John stood by the masterpiece, and for once in his selfish and pleasure-loving life realised what he had been instrumental in doing.

The picture before him was painted with the tears and heart’s blood of a woman for whom, now it was too late, he would have given all he possessed. He had been au unconscious aid to her fame, and though he had never seen her again since the day on which he had said good-bye, his heart and the better part of him had never ceased to cry out for her.

His own life, as far as fame went, had been a failure. What had begun to show itself as genius in the days of poverty, had declined on his accession to rank and wealth. The mantle of Elijah had fallen upon the shoulders of Elisha. THE END.

“ Fact,” replied the man mournfully.. “ But—er—what brings you here ?” asked the inquisitive questioner. “Well, you see, I was captured iff St. Petersburg last month, and you know how severe that Government is on the Nihilists, don’t you ? ” “ Oh, yes, of course; go on !” “Well they sentenced me to twenty years in Siberia, or a week here, and I was fool enough to choose this place.” And with a heavy sigh ihe man went in to dinner.