CHALK.

Otago Witness, Issue 181, 6 August 1886, Page 32

CHALK.

Br Alice.

Author of "Fickle Jack," "Grandmother s Story," &c.

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CIIAP'fKU V. " 111 that new world, which is the old."

After Frank Hunter's hasty departure Lucy retired, gasping and sulky, to her own room, and the girls descending again to the parlour found it occupied by two gentlemen, evidently not strangers, for they were greeted with blight smiles, and a rosy blush on one fair face. The smiles were bestowed impartially upon both, but by Mary turning her face from the dark young gentleman, and seeming more delighted to see the tall, broad shouldered fair one, who shook her hand heartily, we may conclude the blush was for the dark one. A good looking enough young fellow too, five feet ten, straight and slender, with an excellent share ot vigour in hi:, muscles. A dark moustache shaded lips that gave evidence of some weakness of character, lacking in their curves decision and firmness; but the smile that lingered about them as now made one forget any imperfection of the face or feature. His eyes were very dark, and would flash into light with every passing pleasing emotion, but there was an unsteadiness, a restlessness in their gaze at times that seemed to speak of an unstable mind. It was a clever face, full of intelligence ; the forehead was full and high, and somewhere in the face lay a suggestion of eloquence. And truly he spoke well. Even now standing beside Winifred he had plenty to say, addressing her with a courteous deference that sat well upon him. But through all his words and actions a keen observer would detect that Charles Mason never lest sight of himself. Was he in raptures over|the poets, — you could see that he appreciated himself for having been able to appreciate them ; and though he was noruean critic, yet I doubt if lie ever enjoyed the elysmm of being- swallowed np, blotted out, living for a time only in the genius of another, as Winifred did five minutes after she began to read. This young man began his career by entering for the Presbyterian ministry, and throwing his whole heart and energies into his studies, made rapid progress. When he was sent out into country districts to preach, trial sermons, his zeal and eloquence took the folk by storm; he filled the church in a month, as the patient, self-dei^ing, plodding ministry of the old minister had failed to do through years of hard work; and the old man, dazed, sat in his study and wondered, forgetful that the world will always turn its eyes and gaze after the flash of the meteor when it will not stop to look at the steadfastly shining star. Winifred and Mary had once heard Charles Mason address a congregation of children. r Jhe eloquence and beauty of the language had carried Mary away into a rapture of adoration for the speaker. Winifred came home silent. When questioned, she said,

" Charles Mason was the beginning and the middle and the end of it. I never saw the good shepherd he told of. I heard Charles Mason telling about him. I never heard the men he quoted speak. I saw Charles Mason had been clever enough to appreciate them, and when he prayed, I was not carried into the presence of God— l was listening to an eloquent composition of Charles Mason's."

But, suddenly, and without any definitely expressed reason, Charles had relinquished all idea of becoming a minister. Perhaps he felt at heart he was not fitted for the profession. However, here he was to-day, twentythree, in receipt of a moderate private income, strong and good-looking, zealously pursuing the study of medicine, and in love with Mary Hunter.

And she .' -was of cour.se in love with him. Her trusting blue eyes could not see the weak points in him that Winifred's eyes detected, lie was the cleverest of men to Mary. She would sit and drink at the sparkling waters of his eloquence until she was intoxicated. And this blind adoration was necessary to Charles. I did not say good for him, for the hehi love that woman can give to man is the blending with passion that maternal element that shrinks not from giving pain if that pain be necessary to the perfect health of the character of the man beloved. You and I have known women who have loved men of faulty character so well that while they have clung to them with one hand, they have with the other, pointed ever upwards and, onwards to heights of perfect manhood, and clinging and pointing, have, with earnest words of encouragement and tender words of love, fired and inspired the man to effort and enthusiasm, so that the end has been the summit of the hillj in the glorious sunshine of strength that has accomplished the ascent. This is the love that the world has cause to bless. For man is its ruler and its lord, and if the love of a woman be so noble and so strong that it can purify and strengthen and inspire the world's ruling power, what does she not deserve? What does her patience and fortitude and courage not give her the right to claim ? 0 man, man !— a seat upon the throne she has helped" you to win; not, as is too often the case, a place in the shadow of it, and in tears. Thank something good — every man among you who has been so favoured as to love,-— -that prizes the noblest and best in yon more than she does her life. For there is other kind of love than this, and are you not rich above other men if you have won the best ?

We must turn to the gentleman who came with Charles, and who, after a hearty greeting of Mary, turns shyly to Winifred. He was a man of tremendous and adamantine frame. Possessing prodigious force, his muscles and sinews would have enabled him to work almost perpetually without breakingdown ; but life only demanded of him seven hours' service behind a desk in a°merchant's office. An ordinary sized individual had a long way to look up before he looked into Bertie Young's face ; but it was worth the trouble— good-natured, open, and candid as the day. A lawny mousfache shaded full red lips, round which at times would play a &weet smile. Little children, seeing that smile, would put out their arras to be taken

up and kissed, and dogs would fawn before it and lick his hands. His eyes were wonderfully kind in their expression— kind, smiling, and grey. His hair, instead of being as closely cropped as the fashion of the day warranted, fell in light brown waves over his forehead. For the rest, his manners were simple and unaiTecLed. He had the humble trusting heart, of a little child in the body of a giant, and he expressed the humility and kindness of that heart in the voice of a lion.

.People said of him that he was " a good chap, but nothing much in him." He said of himself that there was nothing in him. He could run, row, play at cricket with the best, lie was a first class accountant and earned his three hundred a year, and there you had him ! Look at Charles Mason • he could make an eloquent speech, could embellish his ordinary conversation with classical quotations, could take part with Winifred in amateur theatricals, could sing, and do anything under the sun.

Yes, Bertie, he could almost — but there was one thing he could not do that you were clever at, and that was denying self.

The young folk spent a very pleasant hour together, as is the manner of young folks to do before hope deferred has made the heart sick. Oil, youth! why art thou so impatient and eager to press on ? Those glinting, glittering spots shining in the distance are, when readied, too often but muddy pools in the road.

Charles Mason was very bright and talkative to-night, and as the girls listened they too were fired. Mary's fair face flushed, and Winifred's groat eyes lit up.

" There is nothing impossible to youth and health, 1 ' concluded Charles, "to make any undertaking a success. The one who undertakes must bring enthusiasm to his work. Some will tell you that enthusiasm is the mirage of the desert promising you water where there is none ; if so, it at least gives the fainting traveller fresh strength to pu&h on where he would have lain down to die.' 1

"But what's the use of that?" queried Bertie, with a puzzled look at Charles, " if he finds all his enthusiasm has carried him the wrong road, and lie has got to make a fresh start after all ?"

" My dear boy," answered Charles, with a smile, " effort is like love, never wasted. As Longfellow has it — For if it enrich not the hearb of another, its waters

returning Back to the spring whence they came shall fill it

hill of refreshment. That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. So with effort, iC it be bestowed upon a mistaken object, fhe one who is capable of effort once is capable of it again. Effort gains strength with being sent forth."

Mary glanced triumphantly round, with a look that said, " There ! deny it who can."

P.oor Bertie looked uncomfortable,

Winifred, with one of her rare smiles, answered : " I quite agree with you, Mr Mason, that to make any undertaking a success a man must put his heart and hope into it. Without that, work is mere drudgery, and I quite agree that any man, the most judicious and thoughtful, may make a mistake, and that upon discovering it, the most honourable and wise step is to stop at and to go right back, if need be, and make a new start. No man should be blamed for this. A man in the wrong place neither works himself nor the world any good; and honour be to him who has the true manliness and courage to right himself ; but on the other hand, a perpetual ' returning again to the fountain,' does not make those steadfastly flowing rivers that water and refresh the land as they go onward and onward until they reach the sea."

" Hear, hear !" cried Bertie.

" Miss Winifred," replied Charles, with a bow and a pleasant smile, " I am answered ; you are always wise and always good ; we are happy to have you for our friend, and we covet your good opinion." Yet he turned to the adoring glance of Mary with a look of relief, and wandered away with her out into the garden.

Dertio went over \o Winifred. " You must thirik me an awiul blow fellow, Miss. Winifred. When Nature cut me out she-gave me an over-abundance of body and precious little brains."

" Nature was obliged to make a large body to make room for your heart."

A quiet look of delight flashed over his face, but he only answered very quietly :

" Thank you." To himself he added, "If ever I give her occasion to change her opinion of me may I be hanged."

An hour afterwards the house was hushed and silent, visitors depart ed,lamps were turned out, and all were asleep, except one. Winifred stood at her window, looking out into the moonlight garden. She had changed her dress for a dressing gown of rose pink cashmere, and her long black hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. Her usual bloom had faded from her cheek, and her great ej'es wore much the same wistful, anxious expression as in days gone by. With a deep sigh she turned from the window, and paced slowly np and down her room murmuring to herself.

" Almost midnight, and not home yet, and they can all go to sleep and not care. 0 guardian, guardian, but I care! The little Chalk that you picked up out of the mire cares what becomes of you — what conies to you. What is coming to you ? Can't; they see it creeping, creeping on— degradation and ruin to your manhood. My father, my more than father, have you done so much for me, and yet I am not able to save you 1 What am I ? Who am I ? Who knows 1 Yet all these years your love has brought to my life all this." She glanced round her pretty room, and passed her hand over her soft gown. " I tread on carpets, and I sleep on feathers. I am clothed in fine linen, and I eat of the best. They tell me my friendship is prized, and to whom do I owe it all ? 0, to you. to you 1" She stopped before a beautiful oil painting of Frank Planter's that gave his kind blue eyes, and his smile half careless, half sad. " All to you ; but for you I should have been left to a life of misery and degradation, and perhaps — God knows, to a womanhood of shame. .They tell me that when I read and sing I charm them . What u&e if I cannot charm him from his ruin ! I owe him all my life and all it holds." Her quick

ear caught a sound at the gate, and with noiseless, swift feet, she flew to him. Just pausing, as she passed Mary's door to lay her hand upon it with a beautiful, caressing touch, and to murmur — "His little lamb must sleep sound." She met Frarlk, and put his arm through hers, guiding his steps with averted strickenface. For she could not look at him thus, she could only lead him tenderly to Jus room, then go to her own, and pray for him. Are prayers heard .' Well, never mind that question, they ease the heart.

This was how it was always. No one must know anything to grieve them. She must stand between the others and pain, as lon tr as she could. Besides he must not seem to have fallen — he must hold his own share of respect. He must he shielded from reproaches and tears. He had fallen for a time, but he would stand again, and no one would ever know. Home must be made a jiaradise to him, so that he would not leave it. She would dare even to gently remonstrate with Lucy, so that she would raise no barrier to the home enjoyments. And she dared. All day long she devoted herself to Lucy, talked to her, and patted her, and now a fitting opportunity seemed to present itself. Lucy lay with closed eyes, and Winifred bent over her, rubbing her forehead with fragrant water.

"If ray new dress," said Lucy, " comes home in time to-morrow, T will go to church. It is a duty we owe to society to set a good example — black lace and pink always become me. I hope Mr Hunter will come too, it is such a long time since he accompanied me anywhere. All he thinks about is gadding out after his own pleasure."

" Not all, auntie. He is so^kind to everyone. And he seems very pleased to be with us when we entertain him." Her heart beat quickly, but fixing her earnest eyes upon Lucy, who had openejl hers in surprise, she went on bravely.

" Have you not noticed, auntie dear, that he never leaves us of an evening so long as we sing, or read, or talk to him 1 Last night , for instance, he seemed to have no intention of goingi'out — until — until you were ill."

There; it was out now, and the girl panted. Lucy sprang up upon the sofa with more energy than her delicate state of health would have seemed to admit.

"How dare you," she cried, flushing red with anger. " Impudent jade ! Who gave you the right to insult me by hinting to me my duty ? All these years you have done it directly or indirectly. You must fuss and fidget, and coddle my husband and child before my very eyes, proclaiming to them in a thousand ways. *" See how you would be neglected, did I not think for you. Upstart Are you not satisfied that you have been fed and clothed, and made a lady of all these years with my money ? Yes, mine ! But you must presume to tell me I am to be put entirely into the shade, so the better to throw into relief your talents and fascinations. I am to be a mere nobody in my own house, while you are to show off to your heart's content. You never had come in the beginning if I had had my own way ; you had better go now. I consider your company a contamination to my child. What are you, or what were yon, but a deserted little, and she uttered a coarse word. With a cry, as though she had been shot through the heart, the poor girl sprang to her feet, and covering her face with her hands, fled from the room. Lucy apprehensive she had gone too far, in her unjust anger and jealousy, went into a fit of the first real hysterics she had had for years.