THE PROUD LOVER.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20323, 2 August 1929, Page 5

THE PROUD LOVER.

BY KATHARINE TYNAN.

It had been one thing for Hugh MacNaughtcn to woo Brigid Donelly when she had been as poor as himself. It was another matter when her who had sworn that never a penny piece his should go to his brother Michael or Michael's daughter, falsified his own words Jiy dying and leaving no will So that everything came unreservedly to Brigid, his next of kin. It was a very comfortable little property to come to anyone—a pleasant house and a farm, well-tilled and fully-stocked, and a good sum in bank as well; how much qo one knew exactly, for Brigid was one to keep her own counsel. Tho house needed putting in order, for old Dan had been served by ono slattern after another, and the dirt had accumulated woefully in tho many years during which it had had no mistress. But Brigid soon altered all that. She was a notable housewife. She entered into possession of her property the day of Dan's funeral, and for many days after that tho houso was given over to the smell of soap-suds, the swishing of water, tho whitewash brush, and other such utensils. There was lirigid with her sleeves pulled up above her elbow and her pretty person wrapped in a big holJand overall, Brigid working like ten women. There were also a couple of assistants whom Brigid could trust. Later on there were the thatcher, and the handyman to paper tho parlour and tho bedrooms. Brigid had vowed the house should be in order by Easter, and she had her way as sho usually had it. By Easter Sunday morning, when the sun danced in a tub of water outside her kitchen door according to immemorial custom, the house was as clean and sweet as Brigid herself. And how clean and sweet that was none knew better than Hugh MacNaughteu, who thought Brigid, in her new black frock, which enhanced the fairness of her complexion and the red-gold of her hair, as pretty as any flower in the April pastures. Yet such is human perversity, he kept away from Brigid. Sho was no lass but a comely woman in the early thirties, and she expected Hugh MacNaughten to come to her in her own house and continue there tho courting he had begun when she was a poor girl, earning her living at the lace-making But day after day went by, and he never came. He only, Brigid complained to her heart, never came. For Brigid had many wooers. She was, in fact, beset with them. People who had looked on her with indifference when she was living in the poor cottage, had hardly to bid her the time of day, found it shamelessly easy now to lay siege to her heart.

They were always coming on one pretext or another. They wanted to borrow a farming implement from Brigid, or they thought she might want, to borrow one from them. There was something she had, pigs or calves, or hay, or corn, they wanted to buy. They wero willing to transact her business for her in fair or market. It was wonderful the goodwill they all had for Brigid since she had come into her Uncle Dan's fortune. It came to this that there was always or nearly always, a burly, red-faced person, smelling of the byre or the stall, sitting in Brigid's neat parlour, talking business at first indeed, but proceeding rapidly to an ardour which Brigid, her heart and mind being full of Hugh MacNaughten, found very unpleasant. The number of proposals that fell to her share in the three months following her heiress-ship was amazing. Pretty well all the marriageable farmers of the countryside, with a sprinkling of shopkeepers, had proposed to Brigid and been rejected. Only Hugh MacNaughten never came.

Something of a shadow came on Brigid's bright comeliness. Was she going to lose the only man she had ever cared for because of the farm where they two might be in heaven together ? She had made her modest advances to Hugh MacNaughten, and he had taken no notice of them. Ho looked tragically worn and sad when she caught an occasional g'iimpse of him, before the sight of her would bring the blood rushing to his delicately handsome face.

One day Judy Blake, her servant, a notorious gossip, brought her word that Hugh MacXaughten was going to America.

It sent her rushing off for a friend's advice, wild with fear. This was something she had never anticipated. She had thought that thero was plenty of time for Hugh to come to his right mind. When ho saw that she wouldn't look at any of the others he would surely recognise that he himself was chosen. But that he should go away out of it and leave her to bo lonely for ever! That was something Brigid could not endure. The manager of the bank, Mr. Fletcher, had been very kind to Brigid. Ho was a shrewd, kindly, elderly man, with a fatherly manner.; and to bo sure he was professionally a keeper of secrets, almost as much as Father Phil, to whom Brigid might have carried her secret if it were not that only a couple of days before he had interceded with her for another suitor. Mr. Fletcher know that half the country side was after Brigid and had bantered her gentlv about it. He was sitting in his private office, with his two fox terriers under his desk, when she was shown in. Ho looked up with a twinkle "in his eye as tho door shut behind her and stood up to givo her a chair. ,

" Any more proposals, Miss Donnelly?" ho asked.

" Plenty," said Brigid, with a hot Hush, " but not the right one." "All!" The bank manager was interested. flirt had not suspected a romance. "So there is a right one." " There is so," said Brigid, her eyes fluttering shyly. " But ho won't ask me, sir."

" And may I ask why not ? " Brigid was handsomer than ever in her new shvness.

" 'Tis tho farm," said Brigid. " I could wish I'd never seen it. lie's poor, and lie's proud, and he's never looked at me since. He'll bo off to America and leave mo to those—farmhunters. It isn't me they want but the land. He was the only one thought of mo when T was poor." " H'm." Mr. Fletcher considered, wliilo Brigid, now that she had broken silenco poured out her story in a flood. " H'm. Hugh MacNaughten, I know him. A good, steady fellow with a turn for mechanics. He'd do well in America. Still, ns you've a fancy for him! Supposing—supposing—you were to lose the farm and tho money?" " I only wanted them for him," Brigid faltered. "Your Uncle Dan always said lied leave his money to the Crown. Supposing his will wore to ho found, hey? Then you could go back to your cottage, and this foolish young man would fear no longer to bo taken for a fortunehunter Then, when it was all right between you—why, ho would forgive the trick." Brigid, who had been staring at him, suddenly understood. " I've only to tell Judy Blake." she said, " and it'll run through the barony like the wind. I'm obliged to you, Mr. Fletcher. I'll leave Judy in charge till something's settled. l'vo the key of tho cottage still. Many a time l'vo wanted to" bo hack in it. If ho doesn't look for me there—" her cheeks went red and white—" you'll forget, sir, that ever I spoke to you ?" " l'vo girls of my own," Mr. Fletcher said, going with her to tho door.

A SHORT STORY. *

(COPl'lllGllT.)

Ballyknock had few sensations, so it 'was all the more delightful when tho news spread that Brigid Donelly was out of " Oulrl Dan's," and that the farm and all belongings <o it was to bo Crown property. The neighbours flocked in a continuous stream to Brigid's cottage, where Brigid sat as though she had nover left it, making lace on the pillow. They wanted to talk it all over with Brigid, to condole with her, while being secretly pleased at her misfortune; but Brigid's manner was not encouraging. Jn fact, she showed the gossips the door. There was a general agreement that her spell of prosperity had made her uppish, and when someone suggested that the Crown would make her refund the money she had spent during her time of supposed ownership it was an opinion eagerly adopted. Meanwhile, Brigid's rejected suitors went about rubbing their hands. The self-gratulalion of ono flowed over, when bo accidentally encountered Brigid on iter way to the village shop for her few necessaries " 'Twas well you didn't say yes to me, after ail, Brigid Donelly," he said, adding: " I tiever. liked a red-haired woman." " 'Twas the land you liked, Andrew Shea," Brigid said, going on her way unmoved. Two whole days had gone before the shadow she looked for darkened the door. It was evening, and she was leaning to catch the last rays of light on her pillow. Iler red-gold hair became her like a queen's crown and looking up as sho saw him tho expression of her face dazzled him. " Brigid, asthoreen," hp said, " I've heard of the misfortune. Sure 'tis none to mc. Maybe you'd bo thinking of me, Bcigid, now you're a poor girl?" Ho pulled a stool in front of her and sat down. > " Sure, I was thinking of you when I was rich, Ilughie," said Brigid, in a wonderful voice—" ever and always thinking of you and wondering if you'd come." " The boys were round you like bees round a (lower. They bad things to offer you poor Hiigliie MacNaughteu hadn't. He had only his heart, Brigid." " Only his heart! Sure his heart was the thing I was wanting all the time." Down went the pillow on the earthen floor as the two lovers rushed together. It was lucky Brigid's cottage was down a green lane with only a prospect of a green hill; and but a couple of goats feoding on it to observe them. " I thought you'd never ask me, Ilughie," said Brigid, coming laughing and rosy out of his fierce embrace, and putting up her hands to smoothe her ruffled hair. " Sure, I couldn't think you wanted me." "It was plain enough to bo seen. I thought at times, everyone must knowit." " You'll come to America with me, Brigid ?" " S'ue. why would I bo coming to America? Don't I want a man to manage tho farm/ "The farm!" he repeated, in stupefaction. " Isn't tho farm gone from you?" . "It isn't then." She flung her arms about his neck, and her voice coaxed him from possible resentment. " Sure I had to do it, Ilughie, or you'd never have spoken. A word to Judy Blake did it. I didn't all out tell a lie about it; a hint was enough for Judy. Oh, Hughie, the house is so pleasant. And I used to think of you and me in it, and what that 'ud be like. There never was such a darling little house as it'll be when we go home to it together." Sho hid her face on his breast. " You did it for me, Brigid, to coax me to you, and all the time I was sick with jealousy of this one and that one they said you were going to marry; fit to kill myself and them, so T was." " Weren't you the foolish fellow," said Brigid, " and I lost for you all the time!"