CAUSES AND AN EFFECT.

Otago Witness, Issue 2849, 21 October 1908, Page 90

CAUSES AND AN EFFECT.

By Peggy \Vkblixg. They met in Atlantis, a garden city in the county of Kent. He was a young Canadian, with clear blue eyes — eyes as blue as the prairie skies in mid-July — a fair skin, tanned brown, and a frank, ingenuous smile ; a man of few words and " horse cense " ; well satisfied with himself, but keenly alive to new impressions. She was an English girl, with a reserved manner, a melancholy expression, and all the possibilities of beauty and charm- repressed or neglected. Her heavy, brown hair was always twisted into ahard knot under the shadow of a black ribbon bow, her dres&es were badly cub and invariably made of dark material, the dull word " serviceable " seeming to be printed on every breadth ; she rarely smiled ; her eyes were the eyes of eighteen — childish, quick, inquisitive — but her manners were those of a shy, slightly bored woman. She was the youngest daughter of Professor Dicey, and he was Mr Herbert Mayne, of Fort Mayne, British Columbia. Professor Dicey had been the school and college friend "of Herbert's father, which explains the reason of the young man's appsarancs at Atlantis. MMy .dad told me to rout you out," he hadi cheerfully told the professor, "just to let you know that he wasn't planted yet, and he hoped that you were also on the 6unny side of the turf." The professor elongated his lips — he was a dry, learned man, with no sense of humour — and trusted the son of his old friend would make himself at home. He feared Atlantis had few attractions to offer to the ordinary tourist. It was the haven, of duep study and hard work. "That's all right, professor," said Herbert Mayne. " I can make myself at home 'most anywhere.' Don't you worry afcout me." "I regret that neither Mrs Dicey nor my eldest daughters are in Atlantis," added his host. "Their interests lie in othei' directions. They pay me occasional fieits." " But Miss Eulalia is a permament border?'' asked Herbert, .glancing at the 6ilent girl. "Two-thirds of her time is spent in Atlantis," said the professor. Herbert glanced again at Miss Eulalia. She made him curious. There was a subtle attraction in her quiet, aloof manner. He was known in Fort Mayne as"the most popular boy in town," and Miss Eulatia's apparent indifference piqued his vanity. He mistook her painful shyness and diffidence for pride. He found him--self on the third day of his visit getting a little nervous in her presence. He was under the impression she was very clever, and, in his. own words, " a breezy boy is always scared of a brainy girl." " How do you like working on the land, Mies Eulalia?" asked! Herbert, when he founci her gardening on the morning of his sixth day. "It is a healthy employment, Mr Mayne," she replied. "I always work under my father's directions. We grow our own fruit and vegetables." "Don't you go in for flowers?"' aeked Hei'beit. "My father does not care for flowers,' replied Eulalia. " So you're nothing of a botanist, eh?" " The science which treats of plants? Oh, yes, I've studied botany, but I never connect it with flowers." "My word! Isn't it the same thing?" Perhaps it was the amusement in his voice, perhaps it was his keen, curious glance, and peihaps it was only the unconscious appeal of youth to youth, but Eulalia suddenly blushed scarlet and answered freely : "No! It isn't the tame thing at all! Botany is dry and ridiculous — lists of dull words that make one's head ache — but flowers are lovely and indescribable. I didn't discover that until we came to the country." "I have madia a discovery myself since I came to the countiy,"' said Herbert quickly. "What is it?' she asked, looking up into his face. •- Thot you are lovely and indescribable yourself — do you know it?" For a full 'five second? they looked into each other's eyes, bewildeied with the sudden emotion that his words had awakened, and then a faint little tsmile hoveredi over her lips. 'Why did you say that? Is it true?" '• I fwear it i.s!' "What is the use of being lovely." she asked. . "The use?" he repeated wondeungly. "I don't understand you." " My father finds a use in everything, ' said Eulalia. "He says utility is the motive caxiee of all things. Perhaps you never think of Cause and Effect?' I "Can't say I do." _ The girl's expression puzzled him. it was like a child's trying to 'find word* to explain a troublesome lesson. "I lSve always been taught tb consider the subject," she continued slowly. "I have lived all my life under the shadow of "' she hesitated for a word, and then. brought jt out with, a burst — ",a Cause!' "For instance ?"* said Herbert. "'"Well, my father believes in the Cause of Education and Utility. My mother has many Causes. When I was a little child it vas phyuKa l . culUue. She .gava me a

little hammer, I remember, on my seventh ] birthfey. What do you think it Was f»r?" j "To hit your poor little thumbs?" he suggested. " No, to break the ice in my bath." "Anyway, it's all over now," he said consolingly. "Is it?" cried Eulalia. "Mother believes in Dress Reform. Look at me ! I never wear anything pretty, and I love hats." '• Why don't you make a break and rig , yourself out?" asked Herbert. "I have no money." " Say, you're-' bluffing ! Not a single ' dollar to call your own?" "Not a shilling," she answered grimly. " My sisters get a small allowance because they have learned to spericl it with discretion. Emelie believes in the Temperance Caure. Adela goes in for Food Reform. Mary is an aident Suffragist, but none of the others agree with her tactics, so they quarrel about it all day long." "Pleasant fam'ly!" observed Herbert. "You think we're horrid?" she asked, with a return to her usual manner.- "I don't know why v I said these things ; it was very wrong of me, but you looked so kind " • _ "My dear child!" exclaimed Herbert. He 'took her haud, in its -big ungainly glove, and held it in bath of bis own. She* resisted for a second, and /then her^ little fingers curled round his, quickly, \ tightly, and were ptilled away. She turned towards the house without a word, and was gone. • ' *. • The weeks which followed were the most amazing and beautiful weeks of Eulalia's girlhood. She awakenedi to the possibility of happinere, realising her own youth in the" joys of companionship — friendship — love. Herbert Mayne, quick andi decisive in anything he did, made no secret of his infatuation ; but the idea of such a contingency had never entered Professor Dicey's'head. He looked upon hi 6 daughter as a mere child, and the Canadian as a young barbarian, who had to be tolerated for the sake of an old friendThe moTe she saw of Herbert Mayne, the more Eulalia appreciated his strength of character and innate sincerity. Ho j taught her to ccc the brightness of the world, learning . himself to value the un- | developed' depths of her affectionate j nature. ' -J It was not until the arrival of Mr* Dicey, bubbling over with the Cause of the Simple Life, that a jarring note broke into the. melody of that rare cummer. Eulalia had not expected her mother. When that lady tramped in at the r gaTden gate — the cult of simplicity compelled her to carry lier' own bag and a couple of runs fot sleeping out of doors — she found the girl sitting -under the trees, with a strange young man stretched at her feet. Eulalia sprang up and threw her arms round her mother's neck. "Herbert Mayne-*-my mother," she said, trying to capture the rugs and bag. "I'm -so pleased to see you, dear !" Mrs Dicey was a woman of quick perception. 15he glanced from Eulalia to the blue-eyed Westerner. "EuJalia," she said severely, "where is your usual composure? What has become of your simplicity? Eulalia — take off that hat!" Tears, rushed irnto the girl's eyes. He-r-^ bert saw, with a pang of rage, how her sensitive mouth quivered as she silently obeyed her mother's command. It was a hat of the Westerner's — abroad-brimmed cowboy hat of fine grey felt ; through>the narrow silk band on ihe left side she httl thrust a scarlet quill, and on the right was a 'handful of flaming red poppies. "I am astounded !" said Mrs Dicey, glaring at the brilliant hat. "Miss EulaJia has an elegant taste in j millinery," observed Herbert. A great idea, flashed into the girl's mind. She touched ithe poppies, as she 6lowly drew them out of the silk band, Avitb, caressing fingers. "In future, my dear, you will regard yourself as a member of the co-hat brigade," said Mrs Dicey. Her daughter did not answer. Her minr] was revolving round the Great Idea. Herbert Mayne, on the day following Mrs Dicey ' 6 return, made a formal proposal to the professor and his wife for the hand of Eulalia. He was firmly, coldly, deliberately refused, and took the refusal <k* ho had taken the other big events of his life — calmly and cheerfully. "I'm younir," he said, "and 'Eulalia's younger. There's jio need to rush it. Cues I'll go horns and work. If the ie tiue to. me, I swear I'll be true to her " On the day that Herbert left Atlantis, while Prcfc-boi- and Mis Dicey were ttill congratulating themselves on* tho depa>--ture of a nnn without a Guu<\ Kulalia announced that. she was going to London. It was her intention to hue a room in the house where 'her eictT Janet lived— Janefc was tho rabid Socialist of the family— and try to earn her ov>n living. Th-o professor van indignant, but hh wife was delighted. '"I knew you would weary of an idle hie, spent in luxury!" 6 he exclaimed. 'When did you hear the call, my child? What are you going to do?' Eulalia answered, with flushed checks, coolly ar.d deliberately : "I am going to irim hats." "What?" cried Piofe&sor Dicey, in utter amazement. "It is the only talent I poezces,'' said Eulalia, still very biavely. "1 hope to become a milliner." ''Miserable girl;" gasped her mother. "Have you no love for humanity? Have you' no ideals? Have' you no ambition?" * /'Yes," said Eulalia. ; "I love humanity aid I love Herbert Mayne. My ideal is to-be happy and independent. My ambition is ito make a perfect hat !" Eulalia Dicey, -breaChing 4hc air of freedom and filled with the. hopes of youth*

[ rapidly developed into a clever woman of business. Her family's outlook changed with her success, as is the way of family outdooks, from strong disapproval to amused tolerance, and from amused tolerance to inward pride. It was hard work, and she had many disappointments, but her taste and originality, even in the daya of her apprenticeship, "marked her ajs an artist in all she did. Her Sister Janet, biding the Tiour of realised Socialism, became her partner. They engaged. a couple of rooms, about two years after Eulalia's emancipation,- a4«the top of a ihouse in the West End. Janet, who was very much older. andivery economical, interviewed the enstomenr'ano? kept the accounts, leaving Eulalia free to sive her whole attention to the creation of* hats. - - It was summer once.a^ain when Herbert Mayne, following at last his numberless brief and devoted letters, Tead the simple legend on a small brass plate, "Eulalia, Hats," and climbed the stairs to Eulalia's showroom. Curiosity, excitement, delight, .even a touch of dread, made him pause a* tihe door. Be thought of the nervotus, inexperienced girl he had left Behind, and .he found it impossible to reconcile the- remembrance of her ""-simplicity .and helplessness with the clever achievements ©f th^-fipni of. Eulalia. Herbert himself wee little changed, and when he entered t<h© room it was with ell Ms -old fielf-aesuranct. Sunlight glowed through the ..delicately ehadsd: windows ; the , colouring of the walls was pale and artistic ; there wer« two or three hats — masterpieces — on whit* stands, and big bowls of flowers. A lady was standing in the centre of the floor with her back to the light, so that Herbert could not^ee her face. Her long, soft dress clung to her slender figure and trailed upon the ground ; her hair was most elaborately arranged ; she wore no jewels, but a cluster of vivid carnations was tucked into her belt — she was graceful, elegant, exquisite in every detail. There web a puking minute of silence between them, and then the young Canadian, with a voice that trembled in his shock of, admiration and surprise, spoke her name — "Eulalia !" s She can:e to meet him, and their hands joined. ; He felt that she was trembling viejSMtly. and the girl whom "he had known — -the shy, loving, eimple-heartea gkl— looked 'out of her eyes, all unohangea by time and absence. "You're %o wonderful, co beautiful !" be exclaimed. "I'm scared of you, Eulalia. I" ''TJien you don't care for me any longer?" she said foftlr-. "Yon don't want to marry me after all ?" The' old, thrilling note in 1 her voice~ th«" melody of love rippling under the words — swept him beck into the past. He* saw her Once nccre in the garden of Atlantis, and he thought of tbe Causes which bad brought them together." "Why did you do it, my dear love?" he* asked, when she told him the story of her work and .struggles in London. "To be worthy of you, Herbert," she answered, quietly; "to prove that I could understand the en>Lh<ttsiassn of a Cau6e— the Cause of Happiness." — M.A.F