A CHANGE OF PURPOSE.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXI, Issue 4313, 23 March 1901, Page 3 (Supplement)

A CHANGE OF PURPOSE.

(By Gilbert Dale, in “M.A.P.’I If w<vi a bright morning in January, ami a girl wax breakfasting alouo in the somewhat clingy aittir.groom _ of a Bloomsbury lodging bouse. She was young and pretty, with delicate, thought-ful-looking features. She glanced at tint clock —it wanted a few minute? to nine—then rose from her seat and, walking to thy window, pulled back tho faded red curtains. “A clear sky--there will he a splendid light soon for Phil,” she exclaimed. Who turned and made her way back to the fireplace. An envelope on the mantelpiece caught her eye. It. was ;m old one, and had been there for some weeks, but she took it down once again, and drew a card out—a mere ordinary Christmas card, with the words, ‘"Madge, from Dick.” written upon it. She gazed at it reflectively; then replaced it with a little sigh. “Ah, Dick!” she murmured, “it only things had gone a littlo bettor with us!” The chimes of a clock striking tho hour caught her oar, and she made a. hurried preparation for her .departure. On her way down she- Tapped at a door", and opened it half an inch. “Many happy returns of tho day, Ph.il, dear!” she called out. “It's a lovely morning. Good-bye!” She ran down the stairs lightly. In tiro hall sho was mot by an elderly looking man in a velveteen coat. Sho nodded brightly to him, and he opened the door for her. ‘"Your brother’s birthday?” ho asked with a smile. ‘‘Yea. We must do something to. night in honour of it, and yon must help us, Mr Lin toll I Good-bye—l shall bo late for my bus!” About an hour later Phil Hals tan emerged from his room. Ho was a, tall, well-built young fellow, with a somewhat heavy, indolent looking face. Ho ate a leisurely breakfast, then, lighting a cigarette, dropped into an arm chair by the fire and let- hia eyes travel slowly round the dull room. A look of disgust crept into his face. “Ugh!” he exclaimed. “How horribly mean and sordid it all looks! Shall I ever got out of it?” Presently he rose, and, going to a corner by fh© window, drew forward an easel. Ho sat, himself before it and gazed at the blank canvas. Then he felt for his box of brushes and fingered them meditatively. Finally ho laid thin down and looked out of the window. There was a tap at the door, and the next niirsnt old Mr Lintel! entered. Ho lived on the upper floor and had got to bo very friendly with Madge and her brother. “I won’t interrupt you,” he began, with a glance at the easel. “I only came to offer you my best wishes.” “Thanks! Please don’t go,” cried Phil, as the old man moved: towards the door. “Fact is, I donV think I shall do much more work now—rather thought of giving myself a holiday. My birthday, yon know!” ho added half jocularly. Old Lintell came forward slowly. He loolred at tho blank canvas. „ “It’s going to be a great, thing,” exclaimed Phil. “I’m working out the idea now—it takes time, you know.” Tho old man nodded, and looked, out of the window. Ho had been thinking agood deal of Phil lately—this boy who got up late, sat dreaming half the day, and loafed the other, who had never earned a. penny in his life, kept in idleness by a devoted sister who, as typist in a solicitor’s office, worked hard from morn to night, believing in him. heart and KOllI. He glanced up sharply at Phil. “Alight I see your portfolio?” he said. “I used to know something about art.” Phil pulled it out with alacrity, and opened it for the old man’s inspection. They were crude and badly done, with no sign of distinctive ability whatever. “Well?” asked Phil eagerly. Ho shared his sister’s belief in himself . “Give me your candid opinion.” Air Lintell wiped his glasses and proceeded to oblige him. He told him the troth—the unpleasant, naked truth—and a wave of colour swept over young Phil’s cheek. Then ho laughed'. “It’s too ridiculous,” he cried. Old Mr Lintell rose from his chair, and made his way to the door. “I’m sorry,” ho said, “but I thought you ought to know.” Phil laughed again as fhe door closed on the old man; but it. was an uncomfortable laugh!—the laugh of a man whose mind has been suddenly confronted with a new aspect of the case. He strode up and down the room. “Of course, I shall bo famous some day—shrill pay little Madge' hack a thousandfold—and she doesn’t mind, working at present!” he reflected. “And he said I hadn’t a particle of ability, and that I was wasting my time, that I ought to be earning my living, keeping Madge, instead of letting her . . !” Ho glanced towards the, window. The sun was shining temptingly. He walked to the mantelpiece and found two half crowns which Madge had left there. Unthinkingly, he slipped them into his pocket, then, takint] hat- and stick, made his way out of the house. Ho meant to gi> for a long walk, to think out his great idea. But he found ho could think of nothing but old Lintell’s words. The idiotic sentences kept running through his head. , He, Phil Halstan, a mere loafer! The thing was absurd; Madge herself would be the first to say so. He walked for some time, and made an effort to think of something else. Presently he dropped into a. cheap restaurant to have lunch. He sat down a.t a table; next to him two men were talking rather excitedly. “I. don’t cere who it is!” one was declaring emphatically. ‘’Tho chap who loafs while a woman works for ’im is a. ’ound, and deserves to bo kicked! Why I’d sooner sweep the roadway!” Phil, with a. red face, rose and hurriedly left the place. * * * , * » It was half-past two the same afternoon when Madge ran lightly up the staircase of the house in Bloomsbury. Her face was flushed and-hor eyes sparkled. Sho saw a young man" standing by tho window. His back was turned ic her. “Phil!” she cried joyously, “I have a half holiday!” i The figure in the window turned, and I she cave a littlo cry of surprise. '“Dick!” she gasped, in astonishment. ! Diok Evingfon cr-me towards her, ] holding cut hi,s hand. i “Just Dick,” he said with a smile. ] Ho caught her hand, and stood looking j into her face. “Something has happen-! ed, Madge, and I’ve come up at onco from Anington to tell you about it.” There was a dainty flush on her cheeks; lie thought ho hold never seen her look so beautiful. “I hope it is something good for you,’ Dick,* sho said. ’Ts it?” “I don’t know—yet,” he said slowly. ’’That is. until I’ve heard what you have to say.” Now it happened that at this moment Phil Halstan was wending his way homewards. Ho had let himself in with his latchkey and went up to their room. The door was not quite shut, and ho heard voices—Madge’s and another’s. Hf recognised it after a moment. Then he taught a few of the words. He glanced round. Tho landing was dark.

Hardly knowing what ho did he sank down on the first stair and listened. “I knew things would come right at last, Madge, dear!” Evingion’s voice was savins. “But I didu t think it would he as spFendid as this. A good post abroao. — only open to a married, man, too., Ther® was a pause. Outside Pml grasped the banister. There was a slight movement by him, and turning his hoad Jjc found Lintell had crept to ms bl< Thcn thev heard Madge’s voice. It was low anti tremulous. “I’m so sorry, Dick, out “Whv, Madge, you love me?" '‘Yes" love you, Diok—always have loved you—always shall! But There was a pause, then m a whisper, "there s Phil!” , , , ~ Oid Lintell laid a hand on tno ,-oung man’s .shoulder. . , „ “But surely Phil wouldn’t mind! cried Evington. “Ho is a man and oan earn bis 'own living. _He would not wish you to give up this.” _ “You don’t understand, Dick! There were tears in Madge’s voioo this time. “Some day Phil will bo a great artist, bo famous, but just now —ho wants my help! Oh, Dick, I’m so, sorry, but J cm n’t leave him—can’t go with you—though I love yen so!’’

Phil Halstan shook old Linteli’s "hand from his shoulder, and rose suddenly to his feet. He stood for a moment un. decided, then crept away on tipltee down the stairs. Old Lintell followed. “What are you going to do?” ho said. Phil made no reply. He crammed nr hat ° n his head, opened tho dopr and stepped into tho street. Old Lmtol. wont with him, and they walked away together. “Are you going to lot her lose her big oh an Co of happiness?” said old Lintel), in a. low voice; “or going to continue to idle your life away—-she keeping you?” , , . __ Pnil hardly seemed to hear him. He was striding along with ins hands thrust deep in- Ins pockets, his eyes staring straight ahead of him. Suddenly he threw his head back. “You heard- —sho doesn’t want to go herself,” ho cried, almost fiercely- “ She’d soon forget all about it.” “A girl with a heart like Madges never forgets!” replied old Lintell. “What are you going to do?” he repeated relentlessly. ■ . “A littlo more time—and I might do something big!” broke out Phil. “You’ve loafed for three years—and clone nothing!” said tho old man. ‘Ton know you will never do anything in arc. You’ve wilfully shut your eyes, and used it as an excuse to yourself and her for idling!” " ■ Tho young man’s mouth! was twitching convulsively. “You're right!” ho o in- a hoarse voice. “But what’s there left for me to do-—I know nothing, have done nothing!” ho finished, helplessly. “Be a man. There’s always something for a. man to do! Remember what- sho has done for you.” They had reached St. Martin’s Church at Charing Cross. Phil stopped and passed a hand over his brow. The ola man watched him anxiously, i Pie saw Phil’s eyes travel across the road tc where the rcerai ting sergeants were pacing slowly up and down, alert for new blood. Then Phil Halstan suddenly gave his shoulders a jerk back. “Yes,” ho said, between his shut teeth. “There’s always something left for a man to do!” He crossed tno road. That night Madge was sitting alone reading a letter that had been brought to her by messenger. The tears came to her eyes 'ns she road the last few sentences : “. . . For three years I have played it as low clown as a fellow can. But I’m going to- be a man at last, Madge. If yon want to make me happy, dear, make roe feel I haven’t quite spoilt your life. Go with Dick!” The letter dropped from her hand. “Go with Dick!” she repeated in a low tone. There was a tap at tho door; then s man was shown in—a young man with a pale and anxious face. “Madge, I couldn’t leave without ask ing you onco again—ls it quite hopeless ?” he began. She raised her eyes to his, and he saw her lips tremble. “Not quite hopeless, Dick, dear!” she whispered.