ANGEL.

Otago Witness, Issue 2545, 24 December 1902, Page 65

ANGEL.

>; ' Such -a radiant^' saucy^smile'sTie had? Such a tlelicious, piquant toss she gave her -little head -wheriever' Phil" -looUed at?' her! Arid such inimitable grace of corriage — het^ feet seamed scarcely to touch- the ground ; while with that golden head -Held, well erect" she walked tall and "straight as slender lily. She \vas*but a_ child, too-^qnly turned 15*, while Phil Edgcombe'was two or three years her senior. . Every day, or' nearly every day, Phil walked up Oxford street just on the stroke of 4. And it was- scarcely his fault, was ' it, if the Misses Hope's school for youn^ ladies happened to be dismissed at that identical hour. - , How he put in time between 4 o'clock ' and his own hour for dismissal— which was , 3.30 — wo are not supposed to inquire. . It ' could hardly be taken up in walking— the distance being butr two small blocks between ChriSt College and the Misses Hope's ' school. However, .the fact , remained punctually at 4 Phil .walked up just^as "she" came down. „ - _ - ."'^ He did not know her name, neither "had ho ever spoken to her. -But it had -afforded him a certain, amount of pleasure to pondei °" over the possibilities of, the. former — till a time when he heard casually from." his chum, Don Harty, that her first name-was Angel, and that she lived alone, with her grandfather, whose name was Harvie." ■ That" wa£) all he. ever knew.. The'^schqolb'oyg. /bar*-,, racked* Tfehil 7 unmercifully " Mn"cernmg/"they girl/ bufche bore; it' all' with imperturbable " good' humour. -Of ; course^.tliey 'me"anfc-."n<)r-harm—his boy" chums adored Phil ;> h'e^-was' such an all-round 'good sort, always^fighting a bully, a crack' hand at cricket, 'etc." ,i-and^ erer' ready- to ,b6ysCo>er" stileslf *" Everybody- liked "him. - His~-was- such, a frank, open face — not exactly' handsohievnor even what one would call good-looking, but genuine goodness flourished in his soul, and left its indelible stamp upon ; his^ boyish countenance. ' Phil- could crack a- joke, too- 1 — he wasn't a " chump. "^ In his young days-,-many were the thrashings "he had gotVfor his pranks, 'for lie" had been the leading spirit of mischief in the school. -Now "our hero was viewing life through rose-coloured spectacles, finding it -more ro£e-colourecP at 4 in the afternoon than at any other time of the day: * _ „ , ' • It was Phil's first experience, and - li« wondered if ever he should -have the for-, tune to meet this little, fairy who had shed such radiance into his soul. He hoped, oh, so ardently, that he might. But things went oa • ju3t the same, till one day, having been construing with Don, who was rather backward, he found it to* past 4. ' With a hasty apology to- his. friend, , • who laughed good humouredly, Phil picked up his books, and rank It was but a matter of s few minutes .before he- came in sight of the corner- where they usually passed each other, when, to his .intense - surarise. .and ..delight— n / ot*:,un- - - nringled. with '.ths'may-^he , beheld -"actually standing .there his Angel. __ He. could"distinguish the" gleam of- her 'golden hair ' as she tossed it bade in the sunlight. • , ~^.2?lii\^ stopped running— it " seemed" <so foolish,-, ami the hoy felt himself blushing. ~- What* should jhe- do', he wondered, if she still stood when lie approached, and whatever would he say if she expected, him to speak to her. Strange to say, our '- '•'•» began to wish himself well out of i* yet a strange exultation possessed Now he was within a few yards of of • Pr and she was smiling — smiling. Phil opened hi? lips to speak, but no sound came. Mutely he stood i rooted to the spot, revelling in the unfathomable sweetness of those violet, eyes, now raised shyly to his.' ' ' _ * ; .Seeing he did not speak", the girl gently placed .irirhis hand a* dainty bunch of violets, which^hi-f ..tebk,- mechanically, and then she resumed lier way down the street. Phil returned to earth again, but too • late, she was out. of hearing. He gazed after hei, and, just about a block away, she turned, stood a little moment, kissed her hand to him, then vanished. At last the boy glanced at the violet*, for the first time conscious that he held them. . . ' She had waited 'then .to- give him these ! Phil felt intoxicated with .boy love, and in a delicious dream he turned slowly homeward.*- - Though Phil was regularly at the corner after that,. she, his little .angel,; as he called her mentally, never came again. . . * . The fact was she Had left school, but tbe boy did not know that, ,and. iD ;the weary months that followed all that was left to him was the golden remembrance and those faded violets — faded, but to the boy heartf infinitely precioiis. It was a dirty, muddy, winter day, aboutnine months later : everybody seemed to W

Irarrying and bustling to • get out of -the damp, misty air and home- to their cheerful firesides. x - Phil, -who. had Been. home. for a/few-days, was just returning from the station and .wending- his way back to his diggings. The hour was 6, and the shops and business- ■ places were closing for the night. The people were jostling and hurrying, while carts, traps, and omnibuses were whizeing past with incredible speed. Suddenly, almost in Phil's very ear, there was- a hoarse shout, combined with many cries from people near at hand. Phil turned, eick with fear, and rushed over just in time to save from an awful death— his Angel. With all his boy> strength, with one hand he dragged the girl, back, holding with the other the nowfrightened, horse. But -the creature gave a sudden lurch", wrenching itself free from the boy's grasp, and dragging him to earth. There seemed an awful momentary silence — poor. Phil lay motionless. They brought his trampled' body into a neighbouring medical hail, the girl following in white and tearless anguish. ' Everything was done that could be, but medicaFaid^was useless— Phil was sinking. ( - They- asked the girl where his .home was,; Jbut she didn't know.- So they searched his j>c#ke'ts, "finding no.thing- of importance but; a" letter fnynJlonj afid a bunbh of faded} violets." The thought fitrnck Angel _tbi*fcDon might be i«nd bne v 'of~the meitf !*?frent pvt in se*"eh of.-hfin: -"The 'others left -jon p^her-npretexts, and the *girl was left' liflonefwithHhe dying boy. Then her cora-^ toosure gave way, and smoothing back'the brown curls from his damp foreheatf, she sobbed aloud. "Oh, laddie," she moaned, " that you should iave to- die for me— you. co brave end good — oh!" and she sobbed •gain. . Presently the boy opened his eyes, and they rested on the face of the girl. ■ -"'tittle Angel," he said softly, " why do you cry?" but the girl couldn't answer.' Bo* he put out his hand with difficulty, and ehe took it in. hers, close and warm. There was silence again.'. At last, the door opened, and Don came an, looking horribly unnerved. Silently he approached the sufferer, ' who opened his eyes again, and. smiled. "Don. old boy," lie said, 'Trndone for; but it was in a good cause," and he smiled at Angel, who bowed her sunny head on their clasped hands and shuddered. Then he continued, "•And .you'll write to them at home, Don, 1 and tell them." Don. bowed in mute consent. ■ "Ajid give them — all — my love. And the fellows— tell them— l thought of there— at the last, Don." Then Phil stopped, overcome with weakness, and neither the girl .aor-the.boy spoke. . Then again the words came slowly — it ■was -to' the; girl he spoke this . "time. /.•Angel," -he; said, 'fwotftvou. speak to me— Von't-youtaygood-bfeV" - • ■ v " Then the: girl raised her- blue eyes, filled with unutterable sadness. . "Phil,", she jnurmured brokenly,- "I was eros-sing the «oad .to-^gpeak .to you, -.when— oh, Phil! • -The -last ywords were:spoken with a wan \bl- sorrow, .for the boy was too. far gone to tear. But' he rallied once, and Angel bent down as his lips moved. She. could not distinguish his words though, but as with one_lasb long look . into those deep -grey ■eyes, whose look / she had carried m her heart all these months — as with one sad look the girl bent a.ud tenderly kissed him, a sudden light — a soft radiant dreamli^ht, overspread "the countenance of the boy. Then the brave"hearfc ceased to beat, and the noble spirit departed.