DAVE'S MINISTRY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2013, 22 September 1892, Page 38

DAVE'S MINISTRY.

A STORY OF THE CRIMEAN WAR. By Helbne. Chapter 111. January passed away and February set in with but little diminution in the severity of the weather, Gladys had been invited to spend a few weeks with her aunt in London, but her mother had been unable to persuade her to acoept the invitation. She gave no reason for her disinclination to leave home, which arose from her dread of living among strangers and of being obliged always to hide the pain, which she had so far been unable to stifle. She found it necessary, however, to go about as usual at home in order to avoid remark. Mrs Grandy'a ever-ready tongue was as well known and dreaded in Cheltenham as it unfortunately is in all other quarters ef the globe, and as Gladys had no wish to furnish a subject for gossip in herself and her troubles she generally managed to carry a bright face and cheery manners into the enemy's camp; It was well to act thus bravely, while the power was still within her. The time was not far distant when she would need all her strength and fortitude. What an all-wise ruler He is who has decreed that His subjects shall not know what the morrow is to bring, thus ensuring to them the happiness of to-day unshadowed by the certain knowledge of sorrow in the future.

Gladys had been invited to a girls'afternoon tea by Miss Gay, their doctor's sister and a great personal friend. She accepted gladjy. It was a house she was always pleased to go to, and one she always felt perfectly at home in. Emmie Gay was slight and rather small, with dark hair brushed back in waves off a finely-formed brow, beneath which sparkled a pair of intelligent greyish-blue eyes. She had a quaint sweet brightness and originality about her which was Very taking, but it was chiefly her truth and sincerity and delicate, refined feeling which had won for her the friendship of Gladys Branksome.

Gladys herself had been built upon a grand scale. She was tall for a woman, and rather largely made, with long sloping shoulders, and a freedom and grace in all her movements that were remarked at ones. She was straight-featured and rather pale, with fair hair, a smooth, slightly rounded forehead, and very 3lear,'steadfast, truthful eyes, which never failed to inspire trust. Her mouth was firm and sweet, and the whole formation and expression of her face one which impressed an observer instantly', as shewing forth capacity to suffer and strength to endure. To those who knew the mftjor she might be most clearly described as having inherited almost all her father's grandeur of form and character, but of course .ihe strengthening and development of ..alj, {he best in him which the years passing over had left as their legacy had yet to come for her.

But we must return to the afternoon tea. Gladys found on her arrival that most of the guests had already assembled, and that the chief topic of conversation appeared to be the departure of the British troops for the Crimea. She did not at first feel personally interested in what they were saying, her father having left the service, and neither her brother ncr brother-in-law being army men. Guy she had not as yet thought of in connection with the contemplated war.

She had been gaily chatting with her next door neighbour for some little time, and not taking any part in the general conversation;

when her attention was suddenly and painfully attracted by hearing the mention of a name — just the bare name " Holmes," nothing more. She had not caught what had gone before, and was but dimly conscious of what followed even now that she listened: Her companion had left her just as she stopped speaking, and had gone off to the other end of the room to put her cup down, where she was fortunately besieged by an eager crowd of admirers and persuaded into changing her quarters, so that Gladys was left to herself and for a time escaped notice. This was what she longed for. In the very first few sentences that had reached her, the worst had stood revealed, and a dazed miserable feeling crept over her, that made it almost impossible for her to concentrate her mind upon anything further. But was it necessary to do so? Did it matter at all what happened to her, she thought vaguely in her misery. After all she was but a miserable unit in the heart of a vast universe. If a single grain of sand crumbled from a masonry building would it be missed 7 Even in her own little bedroom at home and in the silence of night — when the bitterest moments of life are often battled through — she had never felt one-fiftieth part as lonely and forsaken as she did now in the midst of that merry, careless, laughing crowd of girls.

The subject which bad had such an effect upon Gladys had been started in the first instance by a rather delicate looking girl who was seated near the fire, holding an immense fan before her face to screen it from the heat. She had turned suddenly to Miss Gay, and had asked her if she had heard what trouble Mrs Holmes was in. "It seems," she went on, Miss Gay havitg answered in the affirmative, " as if she had had so much more than her share of trouble in the last two or three years. First losing her husband, and then that little child of diphtheria, and now this coming upon her. It's really terrible to think of what some people have to go through, and makes one quite dread to look forward to one's own future. Someone was telling me that she had no idea of her son's intention until a day or two ago. He came in and told her that he had enlisted, and that his regiment was under orders to embark.

"Poor thing 1" came in earnest sympathetic tones from the young hostess, " and she has all a woman's dread of warfare, I know. I remember hearing once that it was one of Mr Holmes' greatest wishes that Guy Bhould go into the army, and that she' never would hear of it."

" Well, I cannot blame her. I think it is a natural feeling for any mother to have. Besides, you know, he is the eldest son, and the only one old enough to be of any real comfort or support to her.

" Yes, but I don't think numbers or age would make any difference to her. Her love for her children is so intense that it amounts almost to idolatry."

" And that we all know is quite a cardinal sin in your eyes — one of the seven deadlies, isn't it 1 " broke in Belle Brunton, a bright, sparkling little brunette, with mischievous brown eyes and never-failing spirits, who had just been shown in with her sister Fanny. " I should think it must be a sin in the eyes of anyone," gravely responded Miss Gay, as she shook hands with her, " but I am afraid it is one that we are all very prone to commit, and that should make us lenient in our judgment of others, especially of one who has suffered as much as Mrs Holmes has."

"What is Mr Holmes like? "asked Miss Thompson, a Brighton girl, who was spending a few weeks in Cheltenham. Here a very audible mischievous whisper floated across the room from the corner Belle Brunton had retired into, sounding strangely like " Curiosity killed the cat," and causing a general smile to run round the room. Miss Gay, as hostess, tried to look reproving, but failed, and then turning to Miss Thompson, she asked in some surprise :

11 Have you never seen him ? " " No ; yon know I have only been here for a little over a fortnight, and I have-not been out much." -»

" Ah, then that explains it, of course. I wondered how you sould have failed to notice him. He is a young giant, and oarries himself splendidly. He ought by rights to have enlisted into the Guards. Some people think him very forbidding and awe-inspiring, but I have never found him so."

" Emmie thinks so highly of him that she quite forgets to speak of his most important characteristics," broke in the incorrigible Belle once more — " that he is utterly destitute of all feeling, and has an everlasting, ' I'm the king of the castle ' kind of an air about him that is most exasperating."

" I don't think a bit more highly of him than he deserves, Miss Belle, and it is very evident, young lady, that you have no knowledge of his real nature, or you would never dream of accusing him of want of feeling." " Haven't I, dear ? You should not expose your ignorance so openly. Why, I spent a whole week at the Grange once, when he was there for the shooting — a desperately dreary week it was too— and never succeeded in making the smallest impression upon him, and I am sure it was not for want of trying. He was a veritable iceberg from the first day of my visit to the last, in spite of all my efforts to thaw him." "You are such a barum-scarum, mischievous imp that I expect you horrified the poor man," was tha flattering comment of her elder sister.

Miss Gay did not speak again for several minutes, being apparently engaged in trying to fix the handle of her teapot, which had come adrift. Then she said gently but decidedly :

" I have known Guy Holmes for years, and hav3 eounded his feelings on more than one occasion, always finding them deep and strong. He •is • a man whom any mother might be proud to call her son, and any wife proud to call her husband." Here the doctor's' little sister, satisfied that she had done her duty and upheld her friend, turned her attention to some of her guests whom she felt she had been neglecting, and now she for the first time noticed the change that had come over Gladys Branksome, who had not spoken a word'during the whole of the foregoing conversation. ' She was sitting perfectly still, with her hands clasped in. her lap; her eyes looking straight before her with a strange unseeing look in them, and her face white as death,

seemingly unconscious of all that was going on around her.

Emmie Gay, with a little consciousstricken cry, sprang to her side instantly, and kneeling at her feet, jtook the two cold gloved Hands in hers. " Gladys, dear, what is the matter ? Are you ill ? "

The anxious, sympathetic tones brought her to herself, but seemed to be move than she could bear just then, for her eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered pitifully.

"I don't feel very well," she whispered. IE you'll excuse me I think I should like tc go home."

"But, dear, you could not possibly walk while you are like this," answered Miss Gay, feeling very much troubled. " Wait till my brother comes in and he will drive you."

" Oh, thank you, but I would really rather go at once," pleaded Gladys. "I shall be better when I am outside."

11 Gladys, I'll drive you home if you like. The pony carriage is waiting for me, and I pass your gate in any case." The offer came from a quiet, thoughtful looking girl^wbo had not yet spoken. Dora Grant was "the only one present who knew Gladys' secret. She had suspected it for some time past, and the effect upon her of the news of Guy's enlistment had confirmed her suspicions. But with the truest friendfebip she had refrained from making any eiern.

Gladys gratefully accepted her offer, partly because she really did long to free herself as soon as possible from all the curious eyes she could feel were fixed npon her ; and partly because she knew that with such a- companion as Dora Grant she need fear no questioning. So she hurriedly said goodbye, and the two girls drove off together.

Gladys never quite knew how she struggled through the next few weeks. The blow had fallen so suddenly and unexpectedly that she had not been prepared to meet it. It was not only for herself she felt, but the thought that she had brought so much trouble uppn Guy's' poor widowed mother seemed to make it almost Impossible for her to feel resigned. A hundred times she would say to herself, "God knows what is best, and lam doing His will. All will come right," and a hundred times the conflicting thought would force its way in — " But it may be that he is to die for his couutry." She felt that any trouble would be light in comparison with this. She told herself with an aching heart that she was ready, to face anything— even the knowledge that he had ceased to care for her — if only his life were spared. Sometimes in the still hours of the night, when all those who were free from mental or physical pain were quietly sleeping, resting mind and body to fie them for the duties of another day, Gladys would kneel for hours at her little bedside, now silently, and now in low, broken sentences, praying for grace and strength to say not only with her lips but in her heart " Thy will be done "—whatever might betide. Then in the morning she would come down looking pale and worn, with lines of care about her mouth, and a look of suffering in her eyes which was infinitely distressing to her mother, who had heard of Guy's enlistment, and was dreading the effect it might ultimately have upon her daughter. Still Gladys was by nature strong, and her religion had taught her unselfishness, so she tried bravely to keep her trouble as much as possible. to herself — never speaking of it, and always doing her best to be bright and cheerful. But Mrs Branksome noticed with pain that, though there was often a smile upon her lips, her eyes never seemed to take any part in it, but retained the strange, fixed expression that they had worn ever since the afternoon when Dora Grant had driven her home from Miss Gay's.

The long weary months that elapsed between the departure of the troops from England and the news of their landing, after many detentions, on the shores of the Crimea, were rary trying to Gladys. It was some time before she could find out what regiment Guy had enlisted into. She had been afraid to ask questions for fear of exciting remark. But she at last learnt quite incidentally from Emmie Gay that he was in the 50th, under Brigadier-general Campbell, and from that hour the 50th Regiment comprised to poor Gladys the whole of the English army. She had a weary longing for news of Guy, which she had no means of satisfying, and although she devoured the contents of the newspapers hungrily day after day, she knew that it was not to be expected that the individual name of an obscure private would find its way into their columns, especially when he was only one among many thousands. Still " the troops," broad as was the term, did at least inolude him, and that was something. From Mrs Holmes, who was quite unaware of her son's reason for leaving England, she might have learned much — mothers always being so very ready to speak of their, children— but she only knew her very slightly, and never visited at the house. -Emmie" Gay, who was constantly at the Holmes', and consequently might be supposed to know a good deal concerning Guy, having not the faintest suspicion of how things stood— Gladys never having found courage to tell her — rarely volunteered any information. Instinctively, however, Gladys felt that much as she longed for details of Guy's life since' leaving England, it was really better for her that she should not be indulged— for every mention of him, every line in the newspapers relating to the experiences of the troops on their way out, and at their different places of detention, only served to bring everything more keenly home to her.

In the spring a letter, written from Gallipoli by one of the officers of Guy's regiment, found its way into the English papers, and' this, though mild in its language compared to others that followed later on, gave her a miserable feeling of unrest. It seemed to her like the beginning of the end. She learnt from it of the bad management of the commissariat department, the miserable fare the soldiers were forced to subsist npon, and the discomfort they experienced from the want of good tents, while the French were spoken off as having- been splendidly equipped in every way. Later on the most heart-rending acobunts reached England of the distress among the troops at Varna, through the terrible outbreak of fever and cholera. And yet the actual fighting, that Gladys In her ignorance

bad at first regarded as the only evil to be dreaded, bad not even begun.

(To be continued.)