WITH CUPID AND A CHAPLAIN.

Otago Witness, Issue 2808, 8 January 1908, Page 90

WITH CUPID AND A CHAPLAIN.

By E. W. Sargent, author of "The Blind God," etc.

Twice the bugler had warned those going ashore that their time was short, and the crowd on the upper deck of the Kaiser Wilhelm had thinned perceptibly. The port-rail was -lined with passengers provided with flags and gay-hued handkerchiefs for waving farewell to their friends, who thronged the end of the pier. Yet amidships, at the head of the companion way, a group of men still clustered round Enid Ashburton and her aunt, Miss Winter. Miss Ashburton had come up from the south land eight months previous, and had taken the northern city by storm. Attentions, sufficient to turn any girl's head iiaa been showered upon her, but Miss Winter had guarded her with jealous care. Particularly bad she warded off eager suitors.

"Wait, Enid, my dear," she had said in •warning tones, "until we've been abroad at least once. See more of life — and men. Don't establish an ideal too quickly." Enid had dutifully taken the advice to heart, showing favour to no one of her numerous admirers, so it happened that no less than a dozen were waiting *or a last word. Each cursed his fellows, the bugler, and the light-hearted throng. Each, hoping for a chance for the last tender word which should be cherished as

the real farewell across the ocean's leagues, .. was. unwilling to move and leave the field to another. The situation was rapidly becoming tense whefi Harry Bronson set the example, and with a few well-chosen words took himself off, the head of a. inoumful procession. Just a hint of a frown appeared on (Enid's, brow as he bent, in perfunctory fashion, over her hand. Harry noted the frown with a smile of triompi. As he descended the stairs he looked anything but desolate. His jaunty carriage so in- ' creased the frown on Miss Ashburton's face that little Freddy Henderson wonfiered what there had been in "his own blundering, harmless speech to anger her. They had gone at last, and leaning over the rail, Enid scanned the faces gazing up from the pier. There were Henderson, fcSmythe, Cullon, Dunbar, and the rest, but no sign o_f Bronson. Doubtless he was halfway to his office by this time, wrapped up in stock reports, and utterly •qnmindful that the Kaiser Wilhelm was headed for the harbour. Yet of all her admirers during the season he had been the most devoted, and it had required all her finesse ?to prevent him making the dread declaration. Many times he had found his best manoeuvres flanked by thisudden appearance of the kindergarten, as be contemptuously termed the younger lada who worshipped Enid, and who, in return, were utilised by the girl to ward off older and more serious suitors. The crowd on deck became silent as the city line grew vague. Some were quietly crying. Enid herself felt a suspicioiw snoisture in her eye. " A .deep flush mounted to her temples. Her aunt, everyone in the party, must know that she cared nothing for New YoTk. Of course, they would guess the truth. She turned abruptly, and stepped into the deserted library.

In the furthest corner, safe from prying

eyes, stood a tiny desk. She crossed her j arms ut>on it, her head drooped lower and lower, and the tears came unchecked. Not j Snce the day of- her mother's death had j ,te felt so utterly alone/ in the bright, J £ay world. Penitently she recalled certain ■ jpassages-ai-arms, Bronson's futile efforts to tell* of his love, and her skilful parrying. Had it been entirely in deference to "bar aunt's" wishes, or in a. spirit of sheer coquetry? Perhaps he had tired of it all, and his curt farewell had been the outward expj«ssion. of his .disappointment in her. If he had even tried" to speak ' with her ] alone, or there had been, anything more than, cool good breeding .in 'his last handclasp. Oh, if only he were here now, how •different — — """ She started; guiltily as a light 'step sounded on the'staißs outside. . It seemed almost as if she had been thinking aloud, z end had taken some stranger into her confidence. Th& steps drew -nearer. The Btranger had 1 npt^ gone on deck, but way ■coming round the gallery leading to the library. Hastily drying her eyes, she rose, jgav© a great gasp, and" then dropped back Into her chair. ~ A figure stood in the doorway so like- Bronson's that she thought it some trick of her tired, ncrVous brain. She clutched the desk to steady -herself, but there was no question .about the voice. - That was realj_ and" it -was Bronson's. She gave a glad little - -cry and held out her hand. He took it in both of his. , " • " Mies Ashburton — Enid — forgive me — ■ T>ut I wanted to be the last to say goodbye — even if I had) to-^ — Well, I couldn't talk with that kindergarten about. I've 'been trying to get a moment alone with jfou for weeks, but you've always had ±he little fellows about as fenders. They Hire all behind now ; I counted * 'em on 9ve dock ac we slid by. I gave them JSieir chance, and now I want mine." Enid, through force of habit, looked *ound .helplessly for some avenue ot tocape. ""■"" " Don't look so desperate," Bronson murmured whimsically. "I'm not crazy •—at least not in the way you think. But

I am very, very much in love with you, " And I think you love me — a little." He ignored her gesture of protest. "I loved you from the moment I met you, but fnwc aont has filled your head with this $otdoa 4ha.t you ought to have your fling fceiort considering even an engagement. Said, if you love me half as much as I Jjr'ft you, you wouldn't keep me waiting wSi yorfVe ft-udied the genus man as h<i

is in Europe. And I love you too well to let you go over to Europe and ouy a title just because some tiijr women ttll you it's the proper caper 5 " Maybe you don't know that you love me. The social pace has been so fast that s*xn haven't had' time to think. In 10 j minutes they will put off the pilot. It's my last chance to go ashore. Do I go ••with Mm, or dio I proceed to Europe as your fiance? " For the first time he looked straight into her eyes, to meet an expression he had never seen there before. He held out his arms, and when he raised his head again he whisipered tenderly : " You love me, sweetheart, and now — you know it." She looked up, her face aglow. " I knew it when you said good-bye — so — so — indifferently. " He held her close and murmured something that made her start back suddenly. " Oh, you impetuous boy ! " " Do," he urged. " I have captured you fairly and above board ! " She glanced shyly into his strong, eager face. Then she smiled saucily. " Indeed, sir, it's a good thine for you that we are still in sight of land, or this would- be piracy on the high seas. Still — why " her voice faltered and her glance fell. "It happens that Aunt Beth's favourite clergyman is on board, and if you are set upon saving expenses and making this our honeymoon trip " Another kiss checked! the laughing words. Bronson's eyes were dancing with mischief, and he spoke incautiously. " Yes, I know he's on board. Fact is, I paid' his passage with the proceeds of a little haul I made last week on the street. I thought he needed the vacation, and I had an idea he might come in handy. You^see, lam a moral pirate. I believe in carrying a chaplain." Enid pulled herself free. "Do you presume to tell me you were so sure as that ? " she. demanded). There was a flash of the old spirit. The battle had been too easily won. "My dear, I did not presume," he said humbly., "Dr Burton knows nothing — of -thi». It was simply oy tlie force of my great love that I hoped to win, and with Cupid and a chaplain " The vessel was slowing up for the departure of the pilot. Bronson turned) nervously, but a hand was laid gently on his arm, and a tender voice whispered: j " With Cupid and a chaplain ! Oh. tl.e combination is too strong. Will — wili yju tell Aunt Beth? I can't.',' So the pilot went back alone..