THE BISHOP AND THE MISTLETOE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LVI, Issue 17348, 20 December 1919, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE BISHOP AND THE MISTLETOE.

By Winifred Graham

51 could go to parties and entertainT doesn't seem a bit like Christmas" said Adelaide dolefully. - " I wish merits like other girls." Mrs. Seager looked at her daughter with disapproving eyes. "'Really," she declared, "you grow more discontented every day. Remember you are a clergyman's daughter, and your father dues nut approve of such frivolities. Even if he did, I could not afford you smart clothes for society functions. I am afraid your friendship with Edith Bowden has done you no good. You must remember she is a rich girl, and her father has no strict principles. He allows his daughter to dance and flirt to her heart's content. 1 should be sorry to see you leading a life of pleasure and giving no time to serious work." Adelaide was just nineteen and, looking back at the past few years of grey monotony, realised her lot was a hard one. In this poor East End parish her occupations 'were district visiting and teaching in the Sunday-school. Only through Edith Bowden had she caught a glimpse of what life meant in Mayfair, with its round of gaiety, specially marked at Christmas time. "I want you to wash all the china ornaments in the drawingroom this morning," said Mrs. Seager, " because, you know, the bishop is coming to-morrow." Adelaide did not need to be told, her father and mother hid talked of nothing but the bishop for the last fortnight. They hud never seer, him, this Bishop of Arda, who had raiuraed from the colonies, and was to open an institution in • ill'. Seager's parish. "We shall take a lot of trouble to make the place look nice," said Adelaide. " and 1 suppose he will hardly glance round. He will be an old fogey with a grey beard ; yes, 1 know he will have a grey beard. He will just gobble his tea, and hurry , away without the faintest idea he has been treading on a new carpet, bought out of your savings for his special benefit. At least 1 mean to try to make the place look Christmassy, since we have had such a nice present of holly and mistletoe." Directly Adelaide had washed the china she commenced decorating the narrow hall with festoons of green. Just over the door she hung a giant bough of mistletoe, lavishly flecked with pearly berries. Her work completed, she called her father from his study, asking him to admire the festive appearance of the place. " The holly and ivy are quite seasonable and nice," said Mr. Seager, " but I must ask you to remove that objectionable bough of mistletoe. It does not look at all well in a clerical household, a bad example to our young servants.'* Adekide set her teeth; this was just in keeping with her parents' prudery. Springing on a chair she tore down the picturesque bough somewhat viciously, remarking that no men were likely to come in who would want to kiss either her or their two little maids. All that afternoon Adelaide was restless and law-spirited. She was thinking of the Christmas merrymaking others enjoyed, and rebelling against the dreariness of this quiet household. She sat with her face pressed to the window-pane, longing for something to happen, she cared not what. Then a sigh of relief escaped her, for the Bowden'a motor-car drew up at the vicarage door. A second glance showed her it was empty, but the chauffeur sent in a pencilled note from Miss Bow den :—

"Dear Adelaide,— It too bad? 1 am laid up with a cold. I know how | good yen are, bo will you come and spend the evening -with % very dull companion? Mother is going out, so do beg Mrs. Seager to spare you. The car will bring you here and take you back. Take a latchkey with you in case you are late, as you may have to stay until mother returns from a dinner party. You will be doing a real act of charity, as I am rather in the blues. —Ever yours, Edith." Adelaide flew with the letter to her parents, for even a quiet evening- at the Bowdens' made a pleasant change. " Yes, you" had better go," said her father, approvingly. . " Since it is a case of illness you cannot well refuse. Mr. Bowden has been very kind in helping our charities, and you can return it by your cheerful presence in the sick-room. Adelaide's face was beaming as she settled herself in the luxurious motor under a large sable rug. Edith, even with a cold, would be good company. It was a pleasure to inspect her friend's wardrobe, and hear of the gay doings so far beyond her own reach. On arriving at the house she was at once shown up into Miss Bowden's room. Edith was sitting up in bed, wrapped in a silk dressing-jacket, looking wonderfully cheerful for an invalid. "Hurrah!'' she cried, "so you have come. I thought my letter would draw you; wasn't it delightfully sly?" Edith nestled back in her pillows with a mischievous expression. "Oh I'm ill enough," she assured her friend. " I have a horrid rough throat and a stuffy feeling in my head. The doctor won't hear of ray going out tonight and mother was in rather a fix about it, as she thought my absence would upset Ladv Halgrave's table. Then i made a brilliant suggestion. You are just my siz-a, and you are to wear my clothes, and go with mother to the dinner party in my place. You must let Louise dress your hair, and fix in it i. beautiful orna- : ment from Paris, which came this morning for a Christmas present. I have always longed to see you in pretty clothes. It only you were becomingly dressed, you would rut out all the girls* I know." Adelaide's breath was absolutely taken away by the dazzling proposition. "Of course, I must tell my parents," she said. "I wonder if they will think I ought not to have gone?" " It is a dinner, you see," said Edith, reassuringly, not even a dance. Lady Halgrave has one of the loveliest houses in London, and you are sure to have someone interesting next you at dinner. lam her godchild, and she always gives me a perfectly delightful man." Adelaide protested, but on the understanding that she should tell her parents, at last consented, and thanked Edith for her kindness. . " \ ou are like the fairy godmother waving her wand o\er poor Cindrella," she declared. " I shall hardly know myself In your beautiful dre-s. " With eyes that were full of awe she Was examining a diaphanous costume of chimin and ruses spread out for her inspection on the sofa. Daintv little brocaded shoes with large paste buckles, and the soft,., of silk stocking.-, laid on a chair with gloves and fan, while a scintillating i era wrap and white fur stole awa !e<i their tremulous; wearer. _ "If will be sin h fun seeing von transform. ,1. 1 ,,,! [ shall quite enjov mv even- >"*-'•' .-a: I Kiiith. eheerilv. •' .\lv maid is quit' e X ted about it. '1 had better ring ' or ':••! ! hi, ami let her commence operatie, . l ''• it.,. !•. it seemed that fairy fingers a 't wo,,| a miracle upon the vicar's nan . r. When Mrs. Bowden came to pb";'< ,■ i m .he hardly recognised Ade- j laid- s ■>-•■■' With a little ]«ng she was '. b ""' 'I to ~,,,•, that the poor clergy- ! nai ' c 'hoi -1,1, r far outshone in natural i *•<;»''•>■ her ..•,,,, child. The simple but I '".m die- ~g of Adelaide'- brown hair f "< 'li 'he deli. ,tc!v chiselled feature, ami j *''""' d ll.e daiuty moulding of her head. I Jhe !.,, ... . wist lid eves v.ere bright with ; *' '■>' " it. and her Hushed , heeks gave ! he \ ''■ ■ •}']-■ ii. nee of a healthy country I girl. • ■ | . " ' '. •.- te!e,,l|o„ed to [.idv Halgrave i l '; '■'• 1 am l.nnginc a Ineid in your . P''-' Kdi-l. -he uas very sorry to hear >■"" ""I- dl. Inn said she' would be lielighted to well' M ; s.B Seager 1 exI"''' it will he ~ pleasant -verting, is thev I arc going to have some good music after Dinner, and on- never meets dull people W. the Hal^-raves'," l 4

Adelaide thought, as they drove away, M the mvited guests were the most boring in the world the sense of novelty would be sufficient for her. The thrill of going to a strange house and seeing society women in their gorgeous raiment, of itself attorded this unsophisticated visitor exquisite anticipation. Adelaide had expected to feel shy, but Edith s garments, which fitted to her perfection, seemed working a charm on her rettring nat \ L All her timid sensations vanished under the stimulating effect of enjoyment. As she entered the room she was conscious oS admiring glances cast in ner direction, and a glimpse of herself in a long mirror in the hail showed they were warranted. J

How funny that clothes should make such a difference-!" she thought. "I must always try and do my hair just in this same w ay -: I wonder how Louise knew it would suit me so well?" biShiw v' ta ? d i ng ear the door of the brightly- drawing-room, when .suddenly she heard a familiar name announced: "The Bishop of Arda." w!? j urm?d > expecting to see the greybearded ma, \ whose promised presence at the vicarage had become a perfect bogey. ♦«n v mazem her eyes fell on a tall handsome figure with a wonderfully youthful face. There was something strong hit, t u We \ n - r' a , co » nt «nance, though perhaps the charm, lay in a distinctly She noticed - di "*tly he spoke, that their hostess be ? to Whhe was evidently a man who cultivated wit and was quite at home in society. "Is that really the Bishop of Arda?" Adelaide whispered to Mrs. Bowden " He , is coming to our house to-morrow, and I f°rent°w thought he would be quite dif"Oh! then I must introduce vou," replied her chaperon. "He is one of our youngest colonial bishops, and has done splendid work. He is on Jy over here for a short time, and he is so popular everyone is trying to get him to their dinners. -He comes of an old family, and has money of his own, so it is surprising he has never married. Now I come to think of it, Lady Halgrave said he must take her m; hutishe would put Edith on his other side. That will be nice for you, Adelaide, as you are going to meet him so soon." It seemed like a wonderful dream to Adelaide, for the bishop -was instantly attracted by the young girl who spent her life in a squalid East End parish. "It is marvellous," he said, "to think you can work among- the poor all day, ' and come out looking as fresh in the : evening as if you were a society girl. I j shall look forward to seeing youi in jour ! own home, for I am sure you must be a j sunbeam wherever you shine." ' • ' Adelaide felt a little guilty as she lis- I tened to the words, remembering how she ' had rebelled against her fate only that , afternoon. She felt that this 1 man, with I his magnetic personality, had the' power j to draw out all that was best in human j nature, and at once there rose in her j heart a warm fever of hero worship. "The girl on your right," whispered Lady Halgrave to the bishop, at dinner, "is a stranger to me. One meets pretty women every/day, but I don't think I ever saw a sweeter face; very young, yet f she looks as if she had suffered. So few girls of that age have any soul behind their eyes." „,- <. The bishop agreed, with a Warmth that rather surprised the speaker. A keen observer, she noticed his admiring interest in Mrs. Bowden's friend, and made the remark with the intention of drawing him out on the subject. Then, tactfully, she turned to the man on her left, noting how eagerly the bishop resumed his conversation with Miss Seagar. As they drove back, Mrs. Bowden remarked on what she called Adelaide's l conquest. "The Bishop of Arda was simply delighted with you, m dear," she said He never left your side all the evening. I am sure he was far more interested in you than in the music." Adelaide was very humble about herself as she replied: " It was only Edith's clothes, I am sure He would not have noticed me if I had bee in my old drab dress. I expect he will be thoroughly disillusioned when he sees-me at heme." Mrs Bowden smiled to herself, for she had thought of a little plan which she quickly carried into execution. When Adelaide was changing out of her finery to return to the East End, Mrs. Bowden gave a hurried order to Louise. _ " Put that pretty dress of Miss Edith's into a portmanteau, and the hat to match I am lending them to Miss Seager to wear to-morrow."

As she said good-night to the grateful Adelaide, she told her what she had done. " Blue suits you so well, be sure you wear it," she said. It is so simple, your father cannot complain you are dressed up, and a man would never know it. came from one of the best houses in Paxis. ( Your figure will look sweet in it. It isn't an elaborate gown, but there is so much in the cut, you know." The following morning Adelaide explained how Mrs. Bowden. had pressed her to take Edith's place to save Lady Hal grave any awkwardness. She mentioned that the Bishop of Arda was there, but was somewhat reticent in her description of the evening. " Although the bishop goes to such grand houses, I don't believe he would have noticed the holes in our drawingroom carpet," she assured her mother. "He is one of those outdoor, breezy kind of men who wouldn't spy about and judge one by such petty things. I am sure he would roar with laughter if I told him father objected to the mistletoe." Mrs. Seagar, who had been feeling nervous at the prospect of entertaining the bishop, was relieved to know he was not an awe-inspiring personage. She was certainly surprised when Adelaide appeared in her dainty, borrowed gown. "Really," she said, "that colour suits you to perfection, for it just matches your eyes. The yoke is all real lace. You must be very careful not to soil it. I must write and thank Mrs. Bowden, but I fear she is implanting my child's mind with a desire for the pomps and vanities of a world quite beyond our reach." When the opening ceremonv was ovei, and the bishop returned to the vicarage! it was a vast surprise to the good clergy- j man and his wife to see him on such friendly terms with their quiet little Adelaide. It was such a novelty to be entertaining a really attractive guest, that Adelaide came out in a new light. Her fund of conversation proved a blessing to her parents, whose minds were less elastic, since they had lived longer in a groove. To their surprise they heard the bishop inviting her to meet him at a children's treat he had to attend the following day, Christmas Eve.

" I am sure, you are not too old to help at a Christinas tree," he said, writing down the address. "It is to take place in a big hall for one thousand poor schoolchildren, who are being entertained bv a wealthy philanthropist at my suggestion." Adelaide readily accepted the invitation, feeling her head whirl.

" Three days running," she thought. " Why it is more like a fairy tale than ever. I thought Christmas Eve would be such a dull day, arid that after this meeting I should never see him again. What a pity he is leaving London so soon; if onlv the colonies could spare him just a little longer '."

As the bishop, drove away, Mr. and Mrs. Sen gar thanked Adelaide for proving such a help. "You really were quite useful," said her mother. "T believe you have made an impression on the bishop, and perhaps he will say a good word for your father, for we could do with a better living. I wonder if Mrs. Bowden would let you wear that dress again to-morrow. I never saw you look so well."

Adelaide s£t her teeth. »nd an expression of determination flashed into her blue yep. No," ?he said, "I shall put on my own everyday dress, and let him see me as I really am. I expect he only liked me because I look like the butterfly 'girls, who

dress' up for men's approval. I hate-to think :it was % just Edith's clothes t that made me different/but lam afraid ! it m * rue : 4« witt Probably hardly notice me in the crowd to-morrow; but'perhaps it will do me good. I don't, want grow conceited, mother, and it, is rather foolish to masquerade when one. cannot keep it Up., « - , - ' ■" *•"■ 'r J ■)- - t: ' ■•■- ' There was something of bitterness in 'heir voice, and a painful knocking at her heart she could. not understand., Then she rushed away and tore off Edith's dress, the tears blinding her eyes."

It was very kind of the Bowdens," she told herself, " but I am not sure that their kindness won't turn to cruelty in the end. Still, they must never know; they meant .it for the best."

The Bishop of Arda moved about among' the happy children, looking only for'one face. At last he caught sight of a pair of wistful eyes in the dorway, and the most sensitive mouth he had ever seen. He wondered why Adelaide Seager looked sad and depressed this afternoon, and the fact that she was less joyous hurt him strangely.

Perhaps she is shy and oppressed by the crowd," he thought, making his- way towards her, his tall dark figure towering above everyone else. He took her hand and pressed it warmly, never noticing that her dress was somewhat old and out of date. What did he care if the -brown gown proved leas becoming than the soft blue silk of yesterday? She was the same sweet indentity girl with the soul behind her eyes.

Still conscious of her shortcomings, Adelaide con d rot throw hevse f- completely into the gaiety of the moment. Though she exerted herself to help in the

stripping of the tree and the marshalling of eager children, there was an air of finality about it all. Frequently she told herself she would never see the young bishop again.

When the last ringing cheer had died, and the children were trooping away, laden with gifts which a red-gowned Father Christmas pressed into their outstretched hands, Adelaide turned to bid the bishop good-bye.

" Thank you so much for asking me," she stammered, hoping he would not see her emotion. "I am afraid I must go now, and I shall never forget your kindness. Perhaps some day we shall meet again when you return to England." He looked down at her with a strange, penetrating expression which made her fear he could read her mind ' like an open book.

"It isn't time to say good-bye yet," he replied. " How do you propose to get home?"

"Oh, I know my way quit* well," she answered. '• I shall take a motor-'bus. I thought it was going to snow, but I looked outside just now, and it is a clear, frosty evening."

Nonsense," he replied, thinking she was far too pretty to stray about alone. " I am going to drive you home in a taxi' and I should like to come in and see your parents again."

Adelaide positively gasped, but he would not listen to her thanks, simply declaring he was giving himself a pleasure— Christmas treat, in fact. Her heart beat wildly as they whirled away together through the gloom. How wonderful it seemed to be alone with him for the first, and perhaps the last time ! " It is years," he said, " since I spent Christmas in Old England. You have made my Christmas week ai\ unforgetable one." Adelaide looked up, her every nerve tingled with surprise. He was bending over her now, and his face was very near her z~r.. Was it an acr'dent, or could she believe that his hand actually touched her trembling fingers, a touch which seemed to light in her the fires of a glowing response■? »

.. When happiness is in sight,** he con-" tmued,?, and time is so short, one cannot be conventional. I want to" ask "you* something,, .-and j.I r can give you 'just three days to think it over. . Could you bear to , leave London, which holds so many pleasures for £ you, -and come away with me to share mf -Jife in the Colonie!? it may not be for f very-long, and then 1 shall return !to • England; only I,do want you so dreadfully, I dare not wait .for. a lapse of years. Adelaide, have 1 frightened you? - Have I spoken too soon?" f r .. .. ..." . -..■ ... ..5. f He felt her trembling violently, for his arms were now round her Three days," she whispered, hardly recognising her own voice; "Why,, I could answer you in three minutes, I thought you only liked- me because Edith Bowden lent me her beautiful clothes, just as the Fairy Godmother dressed Cinderella. To-day I went back.to my drab self, and it has made no difference."

He laughed as he " listened to her words, amused she should' think for one moment that clothes could influence his. feelings.

" You poor little soul, is that why you looked so sad to-day?" he murmured, raising ' her face :to his, and stealing . a kiss in the shadow of the taxi. " How shallow you must have thought me

'Adelaide could not answer, for the first kiss of love set her brain reeling, leading her into some wonderful realm of dreamland, more glorious than any she-had pictured in her wildest visions or romance.

'"Adelaide is' late." said Mr. 'Seager. '" I hope she is not becoming too absorbed in worldly pleasures."

As he spoke, the hall-bell rang, and the sound of footsteps approaching arrested his attention.

" That must be Adelaide ; and she is bringing somebody in," declared the vicar, turning to his wife. " What a pity we have let the fire down so low." The door opened and a strangely radiant girl burst into the room, followed by a man whose face wore the stamp of new-found happiness.

" I have come to wish you a Happy Christmas," said the bishop, wringing Adelaide's parents warmly by the hand. " But I come • as a robber, t00.,, for I want to ask you the greatest :favour in the world. I want you to give me your daughter." ■ Mrs. Seager dropped into a chair, bo utterly bewildered she could say nothing. The vicar, pulling himself together, tried to conceal his amazement. " J have been asking the Bishop's advice about the mistletoe," put in Adelaide with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "He says, if it were his house he should certainly allow - it, to hang in the hall." "Really, you quite bewilder me," stammered Mr. Seager. " What with marriage and mistletoe, I. don't know where I am."

Adelaide moved to her father's side, and placed her arms round his neck. " It is—oh ! such a wonderful Christmas for me," she said. " Won't you be glad, and rejoice in our happiness?" But -you only met two days ago," declared the vicar, flinging up his hands. " The moment I saw Adelaide I knew I wanted her," said the bishop, with a fond smile. " Even lovemaking must be done quickly in this hurrying age, if we would seize Fortune at the flood." At least, you must give me time to collect my thoughts,", said Mr. Seager. " You had both better go and find that mistletoe bough, and hang it up again?" Hand in hand they left the room, only too glad of an excuse to be alone. Mrs. Seager flung herself into her husband's arms.

"I hope," she gasped, "I shan't wake and find it all 'a dream. A bishop, only think of it, a bishop for Adelaide!''