SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLI, Issue 12712, 15 November 1904, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

, —-— ___ t . , THE YOUNG CURATE. Hz looked for the most part straight in ; front of him as they walked across the field; side by side. His forehead was puckered, his mouth set, his peculiarly youthful face paler than its wont. "Life," he &aid, "is such a. huge responsibility." Unconsciously his voice took the dogmatic tone which so often characterised it in the performance of his clerical'duties. " Life is such a serious matter; I do riot "think we half realise its tremendous seriousness.".-. : ;.i ••'.•.'•'.:■■;.■■. '■■ : ,{:r- .' "Talking—of— er—tigers?" said she. His voice dropped to one of surprise, al- ■ most of irritation.; What do -you mean?" •■ ho asked. "I haven't grasped the connection," she said. "It is only when i am in pain that 1 feel like that." Plainly he was seriously affected, for. he even f ignored her T frivolous t aside. • "The •longer! live," he went on, " the more I: am i impressed by what" I* feel J convinced is ? the v ■ Crying evil iof the day, this growing tendency / to treat everything;lightly;: to turn ouir most sacred aspirutibasinto a mere matter to joke about.;' This world is not a playground; this life is not a'schoolboy's holiday: and this modern craze for hiding the unsightly under 'a v veil ■: of; laughter |is an ■:. utterly falsa;: inter- - ! pretation of our duty,"; both to ourselves and* v to-others. Who are we, always to enjoy ; ourselves J; What have we * done to ■ earn - the" ; primrose path, ? the easy i passage? ; J-There» is j a beauty : in renunciation ;".■; he paused! a mo- ': ttient, ; and ;, his : voioo had' grown soft and j- £' little husky. "Oh/what k it?" oho asked, "There, must be something 1" she contimitsd, "'" Has the | , vicar"— she smiled, although unwillingly—"has ;his reverence.been;insisting on the fifteen minutes' i limit for your sermons again?" ' . "No," he said, shortly, and fiercely conquered the temptation to join her in smiles. ! v. ,It must something,V, she insisted.;?"lt ■\f not; it cannot be, dismissal?" she inquired ' Wont you tell me?" she pleaded, and now ; her : smues , were all banished,- her sweet ' eyes turned on him in sympathetic alarm. " You" can trust me," she added; "and it might be'-' 'fa relief." So "he told her. It was in his nature to wrap his meaning in many ; words, to «rect side altars? of »: sacrifice; in - unexpected i places;:" s But t the; girl Ihe * addressed did hot ■> miss kite* ; sense ; what he said b«oause of the digressions. She stripped away the'" hangings, and saw his simple plan of life laid bare. ,This was , : the trouble that he i was vowing 'him- l self to celibacy- without specie 1 call in that direction; i rather, i from what ? she gladly ga- - :' thered, with a strong, turbulent leaning toward married state as a preference. And the high aims formed a; cloak of rightepuergessfo cover the wound I from his own eyes, but a, lack of means : formed ;the ; real reason?! With a widowed mother to support, and very 1 ..Utile beyond his curate's stipend to depend upon, what room was there in his narrow life for the contracting oil new ties ? ? She had given him an expensive education;; and had lately lost her* entire income.-, So had she not a claim on- him impossible to set aside? : The girl at his side, her smiles for potion, was forced reluctantly to agree with him m L ©very particular, except—she being of a ipractical nature—with regard to the cloak of righteousness. And even that device she <xm-sider-ed charmingin him. * "You couldn't neglect your mother for anyone,* she said, bravely. " No,", he admitted, "I*o. that's true.", Ho you-are forced to make a duty of necessity" she said.- ' ' ' ■ Ho waited a moment, repeating her words over to himself as though ho had not reached their meaning. .* * „ , - /"It is the mother of invention," she put" in.quickly. "And I like you," she went on,!with a change of tone* '' so much better for your devotion to duty. Yes, I do." _ Her last words ban !Shed big'pfiploattf,' Tiicy also awoke to'ontci-y the man's heart, beating wildly beneath the correct clerical coat., i 1 t . , J But.it. is so hard * ho said, between his clenched teeth; "sometimes, my darling, ul* most more than I can bear!" ■ " ■ .Her eyes looked no reproach at him for the words ho should 'not-have spoken. ' ; "Give me," he said, "one oriimb of'con- 1 station, to help me through tie empty days. It the*<> had not bn-*n this plain, straight way of duty 'for me, could you— ' "Yes: oh, y«>s!'' M ho paid. "I had it speak?" he questioned. I" lean l»ear st better," she said, '!«»? you have spoken." ~ ■ i ". i '"lf..teve;'We : K>'all? , ''. ; :. >, J( ,■:.-;•, V ' /l \ ;_ " Nothing: els« could, haw made : me love you like this,'said she. ;, „ '. ;, • Only-his look thanked:her.'.:",Now?" he •aid,' : mnsst 'forg&t thai" once l'««> .tempted, a' play Uieman/' Youimitst only remember me as the conceited young curate Who tried—" ■ . , , , 1 ", >~ :;. : ...""j" 1 '*!" she exclaimed, "don't hurt mo like that I V .....■,.. .',■.:■ ** Take your own way,' then," ho whispered, with a wintry smile. "And bless you always, my ob«. love. You *lon« hold my secret-*- . 'sate(with you."'" ' " . ' " > "Dear God; how safe!" she cried. < > And so they parted ■, it was the vxlv way. But that ww not the only cou£d«.-re with ■ which she was honoured at about, this timft,' and,, atrangely enougb, it was the curate's mother who nest pui< her powers of secret keeping to the test. She prefaced • lied" rjpn-i lession with a, tench of fiailory. "I feel I , m l l " t tf-il sonfeone, my dejur," she said. "1 »hi*ll feel better then. And there is Ino one .could tell m easily as you, with 1 so great assurance of sympathy aid uuder- ■ standing." 1 . . ■ k .,, ■ -She was young to be the mother of her 1 big son, very good - looking, very ctiirmifihe; 111 manners still. She smiled at the girl, while the girl winced because she knew thai - smile so well ou'ahfither face. ' "1 , "I hop* you will not laugh' at me for a ;. silly 6id goose!" h "As if'l sheuidt": , , - ■ ■ "I don't know—wait and see. 3" snippo*'* ; that in your idea no one «iuld possibly fall in low after—well, thirty-five?"'.' ■ , "Oh, whv not*" ' . . "Very well tried, dear!', Vcrv creditably said! _ But I am mors than thirty-five—ana I am in love. I don't wonder -.on start." "1 don't— think—l did!" , 1 "Not badly! But • there, 1 don't want you to think that because experience has :: , ; taught;me' to laugh in the face of misfortune '■ I cannot still feel. Child, there is no love like a late love for tearing your heartstrings. : Practipo; helps to; makesperfect,; perhaps—l don't know. Women love and marry and, live happily ever after—hundreds of women do that. But I havf had experience, 1 know what I. am saying w true, wt not one wofhaa in a hundred ever finds her .ideal as. I, so late, have 1 found mine." -'Oh,'' said the <p>l, : "doesn't he—doesn't ~- n<i—forgive .-,my.; asking—but ': doesn't 'he ; . love you?" - . . "Yes, dear, that's not the barrier, I think at my age, 501.1 know, a failure to return my ■ affection would have marred the pictureHn? i the . berinningj i have broken up the' likeness; to the ideal too soon, would have stayed the 1 springs of love before much'harm'had'-been cone. ; No, I am spared; that. > But I think you know how I have lived for and in my son;' ever since his -father died. I have i brought him up to honour his dead father beyond all living men. How can I now ack- • knowledge to i him : that a greater than i his father has arisen for me? How can I publicly set another in the place death has made sacred? Wouldn't it be like sacrilege in . his eyes? The seed : I sowed in my Tboy's heart has flourished beyond belief—his; very love , of, me entwined with .;,-. If ; I strati at the one, might I not endanger the other?"; : '/She, waited, a. moment,' but'the girl had nothing to say, 'and she went on again, Speaking rsjpidly, her voice vibrating. '''They ■; say I've : s'rioilt - him. If ; so, it is only -in ; little : : -■: tftings—he has a heart of gold; "but even fdr the little-.things. I must bear my punishment. 1 ; And who can : measure: the temptation a woman has <to face—alone in the world with '■ her child—to pet ; and ? humour ;= him, to make herself .'indispensable '.to 'him ' at any; cost-- , oven - at ? . some 'cost% to the loved object '•: ; ,: haven't had ? a thought apart from him ;• until \ lately, and he had \ always : known it. Now th« habit of years has blinded him; he sees- ■; what he has seen so long—how many of us do that?—and not what is actually before him—his. father first lin the far-away; and- '. he always firsthand dearest; in the present.; We have: been so; much to- each other, so more than ; only mother and son, when: - there are others to share the affection i each * .has ?to give, • I am'a » coward, I' can not f tell my son he is. no longer first. I- have •: set him; liefoie everything all these years, arid— and 'now I must dot so 'until the end." The girl summoned all her store of courage to her aid.— f "But, if he should think of marrying— himself, wouldn't that;make ; a difference?" . " That would, of course. He would i not need me in the same way, then."; Yet even I"'; at; the thought j. her tone ; trembled ja; little, co strong op her were the ehains of; the past "But he is such a ■ boy; for his age. He won't think of such a thing for years. The man who loves me now will r find me -an '■•■•■, old woman when my boy goes a-wooiag. - We 'are old., lovers as'it is—l cannot bid him, wait." " . 1 "Ho, your.son, does not seem such a boy to others as to you, -perhaps?" "You think that because you are so young yourself,' dear girl. And how patient you ' have'been to me 1" coming back to her _ accustomed consideration for her, companion. " Sometimes I have felt I must speak, just once, or it would kill me—and now I have ►■ spoken., . You will respect my confidence, I {know." ',;;;;;§;il; : ;ff«||Bp,;

■ ' ■ ■ ■ ■ '■■ "- ■ '• - : Yes'' said the, girl, "yes." She added as best she could the expression of her aypi- : pathy,'- hating , herself/for-the: baldness, of? her words, the preoccupation she could hot banish from her manner. But the' other had her own preoccupation, and seemed - to' find ' nothing ladking. < These were the questions, which' troubled her, filled her waking thoughts; sent her '■ restless to bed—waa she justified'.in disrej garding the confidence reposed iii. hot by two people for the sake of saving four, lives from sacrifice?,;':; If she decided to trample' jon her own honour, at : the desperate.plead- [ ing of her, own heart, i should she betray ' the: [mother to the son, or the son to the mother? i Was there no other way of accomplishing fan ! end so keenly { desired? P It seemed 5 net; ; and so she waited on in indecision, although i to wait was as hard a thing as she could j ' do. ! And while she still waited she became the I victim of; yet another .: confidence, this time ■■ I from a man again, but middle-aged and iron- ; grey. ' .' ■ i " You look a sensible little girl," he began, You look a sensible little girl,': he began,. j abruptly. "Are you!" ' I "I hope sol" She smiled. | "Then, although we don't know much of j each: other, you'll forgive' me for ; asking: you " a question or two which may seem beyond '. my ; limit, believing J that impertinence '■ is the ': last thing prompting me." - Suddenly arrested in interest, the girl nodded. ■ . • -■"■ ■ ''Then, will you tell me if you ever get below the ' surface, ; as it s were,":' in those -long y and :?:' seemingly .if confidential i talks' i you i have | with our young. curate?" - v ' WZ Have you a right' to ask?" ~ ' :.,.'-. "I • have, ;at any,-; Kite, a'; large: interest .; at i stake." -, , . ■ ■"• ■ That sounds almost the same ; thing. .; I am afraid of what X may and may..not tray; '■ but I don't see, at this moment, any reason why I should not speak tlie truth." ' j -'.-Theo you have?" : ; t . ) , : .;, :; ;..:,'. " Sometimes," she admitted. "Once in particular,'- perhaps?" "I must not tell you." . " Never mind ; that tells me, without your committing yourself, what I ; want' to know.'*' Jtie smiled and turned to her with'x greater 1 show of hopefulness. ,;-" Honour me," he said, "by listening a few minutes. I have it from his mother that our young ' curate is not / likely Ito think of marrying:: for fa* long time.''; Now, lam very anxious'to marry bis mother myself, and it seems, unless he citn be hurried into matrimony—cleared out of the way,' in fact, and provided with ft woman to„worship him—l shall never carry out my wish.' She thinks she has, disposed of: pie—she Via'; the best woman the world' holds—-but : she evidently a little bit underrates'my power ;of ;perseverance When,l want a thing -X generally worry around until I get it. I told ; her; so,; but'L- fancy shag took.it 'as, an idleboast, excusable only because of the speaker. Also, x. fancy. jibe has not watched you and our curate in conversation./ Now I have."-.v. " What are you going to do?" gasped the 'B»^' "X am going, to teU our curate how matI am going io ted our curat* how matters stand between his mother and myself; he is o f,ween--and.»" " "She; didn't bind you to seorecy?" , 3:" Is have? forgotten it if she did. And if eh* did, she will forgive me 'by results,' or I don't know her." . " And if there are no satisfactory results,. she won't know anything about it?" "Of course not. I thought you oould help me." ;. ' i , , ;.;.., . ' She looked at the rasa's fhrm menth, his pleasant, kindly eyes. "I want to help, you much more than I've helped you at present," She said. "But I can't get the woman I want, unless 1 can secure '.bride .-for our, ; curate--. clear him out, of, the way.- ' t ■ ' • . ," Don't talk of him tike ~ that," ' she laughed.' ';' • - ' ' >" ,',!''•, ',",;' ' ' And a troublesome oonscienoe won't let me go to him after -watching, him follow you about'with his eyes, unless I canhholsd s out some sort of hope that he would-be successful in yielding to my prompting~in proposing to. yon, in fact, to—-clear the way —for me."-; , ' ■ Can't you?" she blushed and smiled! ! I _ "I should not like to. ?; Look here,' little girl, I&m as safe as a house; you,can very well trust me. Has he told you he loves ■you?" " ■ ■■~ : . "Oh, why," ithe cried, "must, you put it \ : round that way i" ■ ■■:■{:■ ■■' .:• .'Vi'l'.'*. " \ ;> The smile decpend slowly in the pksasant, kindly eyes. ' ' "I am' open : to. correction," ■ he.said. "Do you love our curate enough to share his small income with such additions' as a stepfather might be permitted to make J to it?" "I love him enough to take him without a p,*nny—if I got the chance." ,' ' " Well done, Htllepiii! Then I'll inane* it. .; 111 settle things for the four of usout'of hand." , ' il ' \ k " u < ,\ i, t And this is what he did.—London • World. • , '1 ' ' ' " ''' ' 'iV ~*!,! f < , l < ,i,=-s-!--s==:!—ssrssasssr