THE SIX RESOLUTIONS.

Southland Times, Issue 9162, 10 March 1886, Page 4

THE SIX RESOLUTIONS.

The Rectory was the most comfortable* house within the parish of Hipping Mead.- The Rector, the Rev. i£lam Martin, was a widower, with seven daughters, the eldest 26, the youngest 14, years old.' He had been a widower some 13 years. It came, then, that at the age of 13, .OertyiWs eldest daughter, took upon herself, with premature womanlinessfthe ordering of the household, and had remained ever since, as her father said, prime minister — a born administrator she was, and her father knew it. Never, frdm household disorganisations, had- the rector been once tempted these "13 years of widowhood to cast a thought, "on 'second wedlock, and the possibility of such a thing had never once entered his daughters' heads. It was the first week in October, and , Mr. Martin went "to Harrington, a neighbouring parish, to indulge on a friend's acres in some unclerioal sport, and to take a Sunday's duty. A week had 1 elapsed since his departure ; the six sisters sat at the breakfast table.* Amy was on the sofa, the meal was just over, : and Gerty was opening the post bag. Its only contents that morning was a letter from the Rector, addressed to "The Misses Martin. " Bather surprised Gerty, as the eldest, opened the letter.! It was short, not half-a-dozen lines — she read it, and, as if she could Tiot help it, let it drop. " . " Girls," she cried in a faint voice, -"Papa is married !'" For a second or two no one spoke. Then Nellie, with a white face, picked up the letter and read it aloud* It ran as follows : — 4 f My Dear Daughtejp— Tiiis morning • I married a widow with six children. She is a good manager, but the children are very unruly. 1 hope to be home on Saturday night. — Your loving father, ; Elam Martin. " ■ The consternation at that breakfast table baffles description. A sob broke .from Nelly, it was re-echoed at intervals by her six sisters. They looked at each • other blankly, then round the large, cosy room, taking a prospective farewell. ■O?er the side-board hung a fall-length protrait of the late Mrs. Martin. Gerty's ejes led the way to its contemplation. The six other pairs followed. Gerty exclaimed, "My poor Mother. " In different keys each voice repeated the lament. "I shall at once, go out as a lady help, " said Gerty, takiag the lead, as the eldest, in declaring her intentions. " A lady help!" echoed the sisters aghast. <{ Yes, I am qualified for nothing higher in the labour mark, " she said bit- ; terly. "My education ceased when she (pointing to the deceased Mrs. Martin) died. Since then my only studies have been the bodily needs of my family. I shall never sit at this board again. " " Poor Gerty, " sighed they all. "And J," said Sophie, "I shall get Cousin Tom to take me into St. Luke's Hospital as nurse, but papa will miss me when he has his gout, 1 know, " and that expectation seemed to bring sudden consolation to Sophie and gratification to the others. f< Such a nurse as you are, " they all cried ; " Oh ; it's a shame. " "Then Selly, her father's favourate, wiping away her tears with an angry gesture, cried " Papa .used to call me little Mrs. Fry. I think he was just prophesying, for I'll apply to the Governor of St. Giles' prison to be made a female warder, Bill Jones— Burly Bill, you know — has been often there, and he says the female warders are quite ladies, and live by themselves. "Oh Kelly, " they all exclaimed, "it is such an ugly dress. Your hair is cat short, and you have to wear big keys at your side, " " I shall at any rate be useful, " said Nelly loftily, " and not in anybody's way*" and she relapsed into tears, "Itis a world fall of pain, " sighed Emroyi " I shall go as companion to old Miss Triniger j she has often asked me, Papa shall have a, quiet fireside, " "Mm Triniger, " they 6 H cried, horrt_JedL- a* Ob, Miss Triniger she never sees & soul, and she is so crabbed ana selfish, Oh, not her, Emmy, " " I am patient," said Smmy ? with the air of expectant martyrdom. With a decidedly more cheerful Voice, quavering between a smile and a tear, Mary— the tender-hearted } announced her intention, " I shall marry Cousin Tom. " she said. " I didn't like to be the first to break our happy circle, but lie wanted me to marry him months ago, bo I'll do it now. - "Oh, Mary," they exclaimed, one after the other, "oh, Mary, dear, we are so glad. " And they all wept together. In a little time they dried their eyes and looked at Gracey, who bad made no sign " * of delivering her resolution. " " And you, Gracev," they said, " what will you do?" " Sisters, " she replied, very quietly, <{ I shall stay here. " " Here, " they echoed in different keys of astonishment and resentment. "Yes," she repeated, "here. If papa will not need me, Amy will. You forget Amy. „ " Amy, " said each, in a shamed whisper. And then they all rose together, all but Gracey, and gave the fragile invalid on tUe sofa a pardon-asking kiss. " Gracey is right, " they said. " One _ of us mast stay imd take care of Amy. " Saturday night came, and round the tea-table the six sisters, Amy on the couch as before, awaited the arrival of their father. The seat at the head of the table was empty, in ominous expectancy. Through the house a careless desolation reigned. The two servants moved about like mutes, the'r voices sepulchral, their demeanour solemnly grave. The tea-table, usnally so brightly inviting, was chill and formal-looking ; no hot cakes or delicate preserves, . Plenty there was, but the plenty of right, not of mindful love. £^o one spoke. Each watched the clock furtively, Keren Btruok, and three minutes after tbe gravel was scattered against the windows, the bell rung hastily, the door opened, aad unmet, unwelcomed, but certainly not Unexpected, Mr, Martin returned to the bosom of His family. He was alone ; - his daughters rose simultaneously. "Well, "he cried, his eyes twinbliDg mischievously,- "ffhat has happened, Jfolly ? " anct he looked at-his favoarate, "No kiss for. papa from any of you girls?" And then he counted them. at Gerty he called each by jjftme till reaching Amy he cried, " And Amy's Beren. You're all here. And ' : what « state the house is in (looking gajgisiß&ly round the* room), everything 1 . tofl}4w*p 38^b frigbteftci Djr

ghosts ?" he laughed. " "Why Peggy only half opened the door to me, and Dan never opened his lips from the station to the hall door. " " Papa," said Gerty, peyerely,'" Why don't you bring her in ? " " Who in ? " and the Rector's mouth twitched. " The new mistress of Hipping Mead," replied Q erty, * with a choke in "her voice. ~ i " Your wife, sir, " said Sophie. " Poor mamma's successor, " sobbed Nelly. • . " The .strange woman, " cried Mary. " Mrs. Martin, " said Emmy, with convincing simplicity. " Tho widow you married, " sir, paid Gracey, reproachfully. " And the six children," piped poor, weak little Amy from the sofa. " Good gracious '* cried the Bector, divesting himself of his outer coat ; '• a woman with so many individualities knew I never, " Then all in concert demanded—" Did you not write and tell us that you had married a widow with six children ?" '" Yes, " replied the Rector, laughing heartily ; " yes, jftid so I did — \ ut to another man. " The only one of the resolutions kept was Mary's. She -did marry Cousin Tom, but she always declares she was frightened into it.