STARTING ANEW.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1715, 11 January 1905, Page 11

STARTING ANEW.

(By A. F. Hill.) “He’ll go to the dogs now.” “Of course he will.” “By all means. Only see how he acted while his wife lived with him. Now that she’s left, and all restraint is removed, he’ll go the rest of the downward way in no time. Poor Nettie! I wonder she stood it so long.” ’ Such was the gossip of the villagers who stood in front of the principal shop one summer evening, while the subject of their remarks w'ent staggering along on the opposite side of the street. Harry Rogers’s home was on a farm a mile from town. He owned it, but then, it was heavily mortgaged, and in another year foreclosure was certain. It was not likely his creditors w'ould spare him when he made no effort to meet his obligations and spent his time in riotous and disgraceful conduct. A week passed after that summer evening on which all had agreed in predicting his early ruin, two weeks, three weeks, a month, two months. What strange mystery is here? To the utter bewilderment of the prophesying sages, Harry Rogers discontinued his visits to the village- When he did come he speedily transacted his business and w'ent home—sober.

But wonders never cease when they get a start. He was next reported as actually at work on his farm.

The little farm began to look healthier as the summer wore om. The fences straightened up, the weeds disappeared, the corn grew marvellously, the briers and elders were rooted up from the fields and the fence-rows, the animals looked fatter, sleeker and happier, the cottage looked neater.

The autumn came, and the farm yielded an abundance of golden com and ripe fruit; such crops, indeed, as it had never produoed before; and Harry found himself beginning to drift along with a tide of prosperity. And Nettie Ray had begun to live her girlhood over again, as it were, under her father’s roof ; but, somehow', it was not like the happy, joyous girlhood of memory. It was soberer and quieter now, and Nettie fell into trains of musing, and every now' and then passed through her mind a certain sad thought. She avoided the vicinity of her late home, nor had she onoe seen Harry' since the separation. But she had heard of him occasionally—knew' that lie was a changed man. Still, this kno-W'ledge brought her but a melancholy satisfaction. The reform had come too late. There w'as a w'ide gulf between them now.

But, one evening in golden October, Nettie found herself obliged to pass Harry’s farm. When she arrived opposite the house she perceived that- there was a light in the sitting-room. Her first impulse was to hurry by; but some more powerful influence prompted her to stop. Sk* did so, and stood timidly at the farther side of tthe road, gazing almost longingly at the house that had been a home for her —first of happiness, then of misery. By-and-by she felt an irresistible yearning to look at the interior of that room onoe more. He was evidently within, and there was no danger that lie would see her. So she walked hurriedly across the road, opened the gato softly, and stepped on the lawn. Another moment, and she was at the window, looking in. ~Th© room was as neat as when she herself had watched over it. A cheerful fire was burning in the grate, although it was not very cold, and a lighted lamp stood on the table. It was there that Harry was sitting. Her heart bounded as she caught sight of him ! He held in his right hand a book from his scanty library. She recognised it at onoe; but he was not reading now. He Iliad allowed it to drop, with the hand that held it, upon the table, where its open pages looked mutely at the ceiling—and his face was supported, half-concealed, in his left hand, the elbow resting on the table- Was he asleep—or was lie buried in a sad reverie? Nettie thought that the latter was the case, and her heart was touched.

'I wish I had borne with him,” she said to herself. But a moment later her heart was more than touched, when she was sure thaib she saw a tear roll down from his cheek, and drop upon the book. The lonely man was not asleep—lie was orying.

All that was womanly in her breast was aroused, and she was at the door in a moment. No ceremony —she burst into the sitting-room, and was rib his side.

“Oh, Harry!” Her voice quivered with emotion. “Wiiy, Nettie!” lie exclaimed, trying to hide his tears, “is—is it you?” “Yes, Harry!” hiding her face in her hands. “I was passing—-I looked in—l saw you sitting here so lonely, and I oould not help coming in. I thought of the time when we were liappy here, and—”

Then her own womanly tears could be repressed no longer. There was no use trying to -hide them. Besides, her voice broke down, and she could say no more just then. “Nettie”—he arose and took both her bands from her face, and held them in his own—“l thought you had blotted me out of your memory.” “No, no, Harry/*' she sobbed. f T—I could not do that. I could not help 'leaving you; but I left you, loving you more than ever. Oh, I have been unhappy since 1” “Nettie, you have heard that I “Yes, I have heard that you are changed—that you do not drink any more —that you are again manly and industrious ; but, oh ! how lonely 1” *Yes, I am lonely, Nettie—more so if.Via.n you may even think; but I deserve this punishment for the way I have acted. "When you left me I thought I should become reckless than ever. Only a day or two after I knew you had left me for good I was drunk, and I heard some of the village people—they did not think I could hear them across the street—passing i IL sorts of remarks about me, saying that now 1 was a doomed man for certain, that my destruction was near. Although intoxicated, it startled me, and for the first time I felt the full force of our separation, and realised that ruin stared me in the face. I had a bottle of whisky in my pocket at the time, and when I got farther on I smashed it, bathed my face in a clear stream of water, and silently resolved never to touch whisky again. It was hard to keep my resolve for the first week or two; but I stood it, and soon my taste for drink disappeared. Now, Nettie, if you love me as ever —and heaven knows I love you the^ame —'let us start anew, let us get married over again, and the bitter experience of the last two years will only enhance our happiness. Nettie, dear, what do you say?” She could not answer. She was crying as though her heart would break, and her head was pillowed upon his breast. It was a more eloquent “Yes” than she could have spoken with the tongue. So Harry Rogers and Nettie Ray were married again, and there is no divorce that could separate them again now.