A SHORT STORY.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume II, Issue 566, 2 December 1915, Page 2

A SHORT STORY.

HIS OWN PETARD.

|By Gurner Gillntan. in Chambers's » "Journal."] The Bishop came briskly into the room.. In his right.hand he-was-carry-ing a,gentleman's visiting-card, and on his forehead there was a ■ tiny pucker of. doubt.- The young man who was looking out of the window turned round quickly* ___"JL.eaiL spare you five minutes; no , inare', Mr '' Here the Bi,shop paused, referred to the card he held, and addi ' '* 'Harcourt." i ' < 'lt is good of you to see me at all, my lord, " Mr Harcourt said nervously. ; The Bishop waved him to 'a chair. '"Nojfc at all! I endeavour td do my duty at all times, Mr —er —Harcourt. •ifou are not one of my clergy, I think?" 'A A<No, my-lord; I am-in the Exeter diocese. But I hatfe heard such glowing' riccounts, if I may say so, of your lordshipte grasp' of affairs and capability for giving ad.vice that I have ventured to intrude upon you thus." The Bishop beamed " And may I "know the name of - your informant? jhe <it -was your lordship's daughter," Mr Hareourt replied. - ".Not an impartial judge, I fear," •aid the Bishop. "Your daughter, my lord," went on Mr Harcourt hastily, "happened to become acquainted with the fact that I w «tood. in ..nee<;l of advice, and heartily ' 1 ""WCtiiitmetided' that I should come to " " Well, well! we must come to the "• point,'! observed the Bishop. "The fact isy - Mr Harcourt, that I -am momentarily expecting the arrival home of my'daughter. She has been away from home for. a month,_ and I must be 'free to welcome' her." 1, .1 will'- not detain you, my lord. " Perliaps another time ——" Mr I-lar-eourt was horribly nervous, a fact .that '' did.-not eseape the Bishop. The young map had perched himself on the extreme edge of his chair, and was fum r ' bling awkwardly with his hat. "There is no time like the present," observed the Bishop. "Pray pro«eed." " Tfre matter upon which I wished to .©onsult your lordship is of a somewhat i„ nature," and Mr Harcourt *' t«oo!glJed deprecatingly. - "The old tale, I perceive. A gill!'' And the Bishop emitted something that _.%ds ''first eousin to a chuckle. '"'Yes, my lord! A girl!" . • sen^ 1 .' 1 are the curse of the. youngclergy., They def.gr td them, they .them, they surround them with ■jrnatmosphere . of adulation, and they spoil them. Gli, I know—l know, Mr Harcourt! I was a curate once. Some 4 wom'sinhas been setting" her cap at you; eh I": : "Not exactly, my lord. I am afraid ' ,*h*,t I: " ; : '■ 'Quite so, piy_ dear lad! Quite So! You think that you have been tlio . hunter, whereas, in fact, you have beed s thq|huntfbd. That is mere feminine dip?

lomacy, and is as old as our common mother lierself."

"In justice to the lady, my lord " "Don't worry about the lady. Sh& is in very capable hands, believe me — her own. Simply drop her! Have no explanations, or you will become the worse entangled." ' I But, my lord, " "I will not listen to a single but!" declared the bishop heartily. "You have been a little foolish, a little indiscreet, shall we say? In his young days who has not? But to continue in follv is worse than foolishness; to pursue the path of indiscretion is lunacy. Now, Mr Harcourt, listen to me. You must be master of yourself. You know the greatness of that. And the. nan who is master of himself can compel his inclination to walk hand-in-liand with his ambition." The Bishop rose from his chair. He regarded Mr Harcourt as a crowded congregation, ready to pick up the pearl of wisdom that dropped from his lips. "When I wns a young man', Mr Harcourt, old enough to know better, but a young man, I'experienced^ 1 tenderness for. a girl, just as enchanting as the lady who is not named between us. ■ Anfl J saw;,- as you see, the folly of what I was about to do, and I uprooted that tenderness from my heart. What followed? I-'schooled my inclination till it was ready and willing to walk with my ambition. And as a result I married the archbishop's daughter." '' But, my lord,'' protested Mr Harcourt, "I do not happen to be the Archbishop's secretary; and, even had I the honour, his Grace has no daughter. " . > The Bishop laughed. "You are a very, literal young man,'' he said. "I am not suggesting that you should seek a wife at Lambeth. I am merely laying down certain main principles." '' Your lordship suggests, if I under stand rightly, that the daughter of a Bishop would do equally as well." "I did'riot say that, Mr Harcourt I should-be sbrry to" :advise you generally; but even :an as -a . father-in-law- wotild a hindranceto your advancement, in the church" : ■ - "May I say," said Mr Harcourt, "that your.lordship's■ daughter is Very charming . " The Bishop held up his hand warningly-. "We will not become personal,'' he said with a touch of asperity. "My daughter is my daughter, and her name must be kept, out of discussions of this kind. , Do not think that I wish to bo severe, Mr Harcourt; but it is my considered opinion that you made an error of taste there. May I ask if you have a benefice?" "No, my lord. At the moment I am an unemployed curate. I have a few hundreds a year of my own, which fortunately enable me to pick and choose niy vicars." "I agree that you are fortunate. There are vicars and vicars. I had my experience years ago: Have you any other questions you wish to ask me?" ■ "I had several, iny lord;: but they seem to me to be unnecessary now. " 1 "I. am . glad to tear you say so., That means that my advice has not fallen iipon\ stony- grouiidi" < ' And yet, -my lord,, somehow your advice' seems to have a worldly flavour." | "Admitted! admitted!" agreed the Bishop graciously.- "You will observe;

though,'Mr Harcourt, that I have advised you to do nothing that can be called mean or mercenary. I have counselled you to conquer yourself, a deed which, as St. Paul reminds us, confers greatness upon a man. I told you that it was an essential that you should be able to command your inclination. I do not forget the teaching of the Church concerning Holy Matrimony. When you marry you will promise to love your wife, and you will perjure yourself at the altar if you are not able to do so. All that I say it, love wisely.'' "I follow your lordship. There is one further difficulty which presents itself to me. Bishops and Archdeacons do not give their daughters in marriage to unbencficod priests who lack influence." ! The Bishop laughed gleeiully, ".I fear," he said, "that yours, Mr Harcourt, is the. faint heart that never wona fair lady. And that is what you have to do. Win the lady first. Her father is a secondary matter. Ways and means of overcoming parental opposition will suggest themselves to you, or to the -lady, when the time come?, depend upon it. I know that they did in my case. I have no time to tell yoii the whole story now, or I would do so; but I assure you that my father-in-law did not receive my proposition for-hie daughter's hand with that I could have wished or that I considered that my attainments warrantee}. To tell the truth, he accused jue of all kinds of things of which I was innocent. He-accused me of having abused his > confidence, and the like. But being a wise man, he bowed to the' inevitable when he realised that it was the inevitable that had come upon him. The story is pretty well known; I wonder that you have not heard it."

"I think that I have heard something of it, my lord. You must have been a. very resolute young man." '' I think that I may say without conceit that I was," the Bishop admitted. "And that is my last word to you, young man be wise and be resolute! Ah, I hear the car! Here is my daughter. I must'beg of you to excuse me" "Just a moment more; my lord" "Not one!" said the Bishop with decision, and made toward the door. Mr Harcourt, overcome by nervous trepidation, caught the prelate by the tail of his coat. '' My lord,' he said, 'supposing " The Bishop turned upon him,-his face flushed with anger. "You presume very greatly," he said. "Leave go of my coat at once! I positively decline to hear another word." , "But, my lord, I insist." Mr Harcourt had succeeded at last. The Bishop turned on him, his face now purple with outraged dignity. "You dare to use the word insist to ine!" he said. "T have received you here. I listened to you. I havo given advice of great value. I have treated you, a stranger, as though you were my son, and you, speak, to me of insisting! You have more resolution than I thought.'.' And his lordship laughed nastily. "Leave my house at Once, Mr Harcourt, and never dare to come here again. Such insolence passes all —— " But" what his insolgnce passed Mr Harcourt was never destined to. hear, for the episcopal eloquence was cut short by the opening of the door of the room and the entrance of a radiant girL " Oh dad! dad!'' she sSlid, holding

out both hands to the angry Bishop, '' it isggood to see you again.'' The Bishop forgot his anger in the sunshine of that smile, and took the hands held out to him, and kissed their owiier on the lips with fond pride. And for the moment Mr Harcourt too was forgotten. , ' Quite suddenly the Bishop released his daughter's left hand, which he had ben holding in his right. He had felt the touch of smooth metal; and had experienced a sense of shock. He looked down at the hand he had just released, and saw the plaifo gold band adorning it. "Barbara! Babbie!" he cried sharply. The girl held out her hand to Mr Harcourt, who took it. ; "With the greatest resolution," We acted this morning upon the excellent advice your lordship has given me,'' the young man said. For one —two moments the Bishop did not know whether .to be furious or to laugh. Then a rush of paternal feeling overcame him. "You love her?'' he asked, looking Harcourt squarely in the eyes. The young man, whose nervousness was past, laughed" clination walks with, my ambition," he said -

Then with great boldness he kissed his bride. ' ,