Her Daughter.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIIC, Issue 14284, 27 August 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

Her Daughter.

(By A line Warner.) V-hen Gammoni first met Mr-:-. Curs . he- did not- fall in love with her at- one?. : There a gr?-at nianj reasons T a' this, and t-h"- niam one was. perhr<r> thai he d 1 d ivt see much c-i he*.\ AootUer - o h=>en that «w in re iviis n/>Tnnt ha> s/-irt. whi'" In TI" T H ,t > hrs7.- . She- niV'-r^rsc-d all jzrey-eyed and curiously S:UI. Sbr rested quietly in whatever p'»>f >iu« mitib- ' chance li> ho. and Wi it in ihe other's i sympathy to seek and then reaeh out J ior hers. (iamniont. wh<» wa> a i larly handsome and dehirhi in\ i'eliow. ; well within si-jiht- of his thirtieth birth- 1 day, did not fool himseii -pecialiy drawn J towards her. It was not until they ! T\ere thrown together ior a second week-end that he dis<-o\vred that her : £rey eyes, when cast dov. n .w»»n« veiled behind wondenul lashes; and on tho : next day thai her still htdd tho i otulines yi surviving, nov. . i a.-, a I'UU-. oii]\ in ii;iii"*j! t-_ Ht- talk-M! : to lier that aiu-rhoon aiier tea. talked v.'th a. ciirj'jus seii<f <ji pouring mjiiivhiilirriu -uard.-d t nn :it i M - r u-efc although she s .mi m.rii-iiiir. I!,had a prtweien--. ab..ut- it- al! tii^n—a]l : l.tar wuc to i*(Tl-ey <)>oiii quite an hour together. ;.-»id V, }:.• ii iiur In.ll f u;:s 0\ or lie kr.ew that in* m love. " Ila.v v J le been a widow lrm^' h<= asked his ho>te-<. X" 01 lit teen year:?. his hostess answered him. Ihen lie wa> surprised. ,; Fii':een years! W'liv. how old is sho' "Wr>]l past forty. I suppose/" said! hiN ac.-iesv. And then, before another ' word could be spoken by him. sba : turned 10 someone else and he had io i move away. j So sh f . was ever fortv—this calm ! ageless-looking thing with her wide : grey gaze The nev. s gar* him su.-h a ■Miaip ani< wound that lie w-as now obliged to recognise what had happened. The 1 ajfair went foi ward quickly. A month or so later—his reason and good j judgment- to tlie contrary—ho a<ked her m marry hnn. She rented. Cut t,le prt>l>os:il furthered tl.vir iitvimycy groatle. Ho h;nl se!i'-c;unit)l, and cor'yjnued to Visit l,cr: and day 'by day t-H- cliarm o; thai wonder which housed in her heart drew the chains closer on Ins. He loved her more and more She wa< bewitching, bewikieri;,-. v,.v V chain re-s. l: a y by <!ay her presence oecame the mam need in hi.s ex:-ii-n.-i>. He waiiteii ln-r for his own. sire ieari'nl and resistless. The serenity of her attitude towards ]i:\. laid no cahniiiii touch n.oon iiis r.'or. it only ;ed his fancy and haunted h : < 1 dreams iike a veiled face—a fa:e never seen- yet ior over looking out tJiron-h Tli<> veil. Hi* reason and uoi.d iiuL'- '■ ment had "olio on the rocks lonij: ere ! this, anil the wrecks of many of his ambitions were breukin<r slowly under the ie=i<tless effect of the • ever-rocitrrhiu j Ta.ie< O! her charm and his loimin-i J!e 1 wanted lier. i 11-' wanted to see that calmness erash ami ripple, and u'o sma-hin.- out To beneath the warmth of his ten- 1 Ocr 11 e :; s. >lio wa< i,v. and be wanted to ! m.'li the ice. >he was -i:1I. with her sweet, unpenetrable smile, and hj? wanted to make her weep—just a I;t;',. —and fjiiirer and cry ..lit, ; i'nd hi-!e 1., face ill his bosMe. Me to "ro-.v dangerous and to have weird visionsio wondrj- w!,ii:—to winder if! ] Mrs. ( hire, nvair.vhile. eont in ' The ""bit of her <n !ii\ — v lii-.-J, , v:i = v ;i|cr Ine and ran d< eper than (onrnioni iouki jjo.sihly conceive. sj !t . <];,) iioi, open ihe doors of her eoniii'.onco ; ;l hjm. iiecau.se experience had tar._hi h.er tiia.t eonlideiK es of wc ir.c:i to lr.en (and the revers?i almost never s Cr ve t!ie end intended. She had no special feeling as to his 1 de. ot.on. and not the slightest ne-s as to ihe end. Spiritual calm is a goal r.ot easily reached, but it is one that, when reached, most, emphaticallv . ends the race. * I

_ Mrs Clare wont on with her existence. and watched Gamniont continue h;s. her cxoy eyes sceinc all lie often inncied surely locked in his own heart. It was not for herself that she thought or Roared a? the winter wore oil, it was of another, the woman whom Giunmonu would s.ume dav marrv -S:tby the fire. Twisting her whiie finders in the delicate silver chain <if ht*r lorgnette, she u>ed to contemplate the ninn, to Irs voice and st-orv kevc-d in infinite moods, and consider wha; would be tho end of it all—whan be >:l:un!d marry. meanwhile. was becoming crazed, happened to herr* ? he asked a mend one dav. I he Miii!!,!!! was a goe.d friend of his. ami he dared ask her, although affairs now >.ood where i\lrs. Clara's name. or anv roiereneo t.i her, never passed his lip->. . I hat is the usual wav in which low is secretive : the beloved drons out o- the world Di speech u uh ail ah-ohi:.'-iit-ss which a child ol' ihree might notice. "Some tragedy imw have been in her lilt*." he suggested i"iii*t}it*r. i ",\ot- exactly a tragedy." said iiis I hostess easily, "bill .she cause t,» make a tragedy it. on see, s h < - used to ■ he. eccentric —lioi very well-balanced. i you know—and there was a child, and the 1.-iniily were a iittle nervous over how she might bring the child up. s 0 they took it from her. That was all. 7 " They took her child from her;'" he cried. "Yes: there was money, and the child had a right "to its own life, you know. She was very odd a; that time. She's settled down now. She was really not \ a! all tho person 10 have a child." Somehow this moved him deeply. He '. felt that he understood her dear, sad ; gaze much better in this now light. ; "Were you always like tin's;-"" he ■ asked her a ten* days later, longing to i enter into the sanctuary of that which i she had so completely withheld from j linn. "Were you always so self-centred I in your snfiii iency j She was putting some golden-yellow ; blossoms into a deep rose-howl, and she ! smiled. "Oh. no: 1 came through much to learn to live in quiet." ~ " Has the road been so hard —so lonely—then ?" "Yes: very hard—and very lonely." She smiled again and shook her head. "I was a stupid little girl," she went on. always placing the i'owers with her •slender lingers as she spoke. "Oh. I ! was so very silly and talkative. 1 had : to snfier greatly before I learned silence. Allien I was young 1 had nothing to tell, and 1 told it"all day and l'ar into the night—if T could get anyone to h>ten. She laughed softly. He wanted to speak to her of the child, bin he didn't know how to bring the subject forward, lie walked restlessly about tho room, and finailv came and stood beside her. She had on a blue gown with silver lines, and a silver girdle that gathered, the stuff in from her shoulders, fan-like. He .-toed close, and looked down upon her. "1 cannot, believe that you were over a stupid iittle girl." lie said, his eves upon her. "Don't tell me that. Some Women can never have been stupid."' '"I never saw a man until i was eighteen.' she said, drawing her breath. . oddly. "Oh. T was a very stupid litt'e ; Quite the regular, conventional. 1 properly reared litrle irirl. \\ ill yon : believe that I knew nothing whatever of little children, or their needs. ; T was given a living child to raiser" I She spoke not quite as calmly a* usual, but hor fingers went steadily on st:ckinfr the 'ilowers in jiininiu' ' t)ie glo ,y ' leaves. "A 911 would hardly know me' ii you eould see me as 1 -'was then." she said after "a minute. "1 was so voui-g and pathetic in my ignorance, hut T made up my mind to learn. And to teach. I meant to teach that- child all that- of which I had been left ign ''ant. ' I meant to do so much for her." \ •She stopped and set the howl care- ' fully in tho middle of the table, 1

There was a queer, .still pause, anil then she turned to him. "1 wa.-n'i allowed to teach her,'" she said fiin-'/y. "'! was thought mad. and the cl-ild "."as i a Isen ii'om m". It shook "iy m v.vr!-j and in men, but ]atcr it led me to God." 1 • I cannot Krliere that you could erer seem n:ad to anyone," 3 he said. • '"lr yen innst on retaining yt'ir ••h:!-! "r It -ra?. your riglitv"' ".M". b';t I vOiildn't be sure, you - ''d. 1-er breath coming ' I lindn't the ni'l faitii ws-.nwis then. They veie all ..r ;-tandpu". nt. and they >lt >|; n-.y,- to us base. I was only a .stupid lit- T--. woman—no longer a stupid girl, but now a. stupid woman —and I gave up my child."" on d : d ron^;." '•Oli. ye-—i-.y the light of the present Hut yon culv I;i:t.v my present. If yot had know, me then "1 i i had known you then! Oh, merciiul Keaven. :f I had known you tlleii!" Shi' looked quietly at him for a minute or so. and then site spoke mo=t g"M -,!y. "It wonhin't have mutterrd —it woeiilti t h.ive uiittt-■red. MelieVe me, i:i the ureal mapping out of ii-.v- soir.a are o re'., rii ten i-< j ,:i ; und li'iou !ed<;e. T.) psi.gr. s S and seil'-reijression. Mine was - ;*c::. : * He h-eked a; bt-r. and knew now Aiheie ri lay tee '.v.^cler —the Loreh-i- ---•> lar lure, (hi the ror-k of his a-piration he saw the new Ideal sittin ,r and r.-eo-nv, d that. after all. this Lorelei nor. h:;t waited, telling al! ner inessuge 1:1 the mere folding of the gicat, white, down-swooping droop of Jnd-siren wings It on me to him in a fiitr:: that he "was in a crisis, not Oi h:s ir ; e. but of hers—possibly a, ct.sjs bcyi>:id Ins comp.rehension. weird ran throtmh his consciousness. driving him to rise suddenly and move away to the window, look out. then turn ba-:-k. He started a. little as he turned, for she had rrossed ci-e aiter him. noiselessly, and stood l.oa iusl hr-lnnd him. In her eves was a look tiiat made inm st ar t finite as mnc!i_ as iii t . iintliim h.er so close. He felt the ue'rd tremor a second time. •■Tell mo." she said, "if I could show »i. v >eli aged ei-hteen again, would it trillv please you to see mei-" 1 le stared. She laid her two hands upon his arms as he Stood there, and —so holdiu"" him —looked up into his face. = hat nonsense you talk!" he axelanneo. trying to la uirh. >he si.!! he:d mm "1 should like to'try it," she said, Lei Jiie try it. I have ihe power!" "What do you- mean r* ? l *Lc-t u;e ?show yon myself as I wajj !' 13 . , r !*. -' Kz liC * nvt we shall be able to tallf in!(•'! 1 i«reiit 1 y afterwards."' *Y !!S niystcriously thrilled. IT© dion t i?t ilie !ua*-t -understand her. buttnere was of the twenvieth ceniurv cour>inii" m his blood to make him *o]]<£ to investigate along any new line. t \ erv v.o\ 1 he said, again attempting -ret laujrh. "What do you want m© to do?" think that would still love mer" >.ie .-:a:(j. **W;>l]. av<» shall see! ,J And thfis >he l-.'ic the li-" ir.f'd to jauirli Kir the third time, and ior the third time could not mjiiiatio it: on the contrary, he felt o<!<rtv j.-ppn-Sred. 'What was >he i:oing to (i v V y '" :: '-y )}0 thai tho day. j Iao.UT. 1 • r-ni.m witli : n nd "j;e v%'ondi-rcd jf \\q \ narj im.'-h longer to wait. It was mora : subtly ujis,.;iVm?. He <i:dn'4 1 :i''n. n «nddi*n. tho door opened, i an.{ v.nmK'd— f-j'.rliieeji years, 'h course, he would have known her any a h.er,'. bin it was a shock. She was tn.u and ail d unformed in c'.\ v. ay that woman can be formed i ho JuiT eye? were there, but emptied tnc.r wjde. primeval peace: the ci 1 .;:] wa> yc-ero. but not tirm; ihe lips v.-ere nor ire>. b-.:r. n.->w wavering in ex-pre--<:on; tho liair—her hair—was quite rounaiy 'lone, in the hopeless]v even w a;, that .z takes Tears to unlearn. And yet- it was ?he—all she! lie stood quite still—bewildered—uncertain. She he?uatea. Tti th'S stranue turning backward of time in its flight she corned to have lost her later self completely. "[ didirt knew that there was anyone she said di=tressedly. putting her hai:<l to her cheek with a gesture in the rounh whk-li he knew well in the iin.sh. **l —I thought that- I should lje alr.ne/' "'.My name is he said, his vnjj-e hoar>ely to him. "Don't you kn >w the naiUfr" "No —-he <]n,-k lier head—"'but Vfi kr.'-iw wiio 1 am. don't vour** >lie h.oked anxu-usly into ills eyes a< put tln? ouestion. and tliis direct j-'ivintr <>i her eyes :\-assure<l 3iim. They

j w.-re the ,-ame vve-\ less expressive, less ! i« their well-like reflection, hut still the same eyes, iie felt more comfortable. "Vwm't you sit down?"' she asked timidly. "I suppose that I may stay a lew minutes, since 1 was sent in here." \»n see. I am not allowed to see any men. 1 must keep on with my lessons still. I -nil s { > tired of lessons, i'id you get tired of lessons?" 1 hey -sat down. She had no Vines of grace, as yet. Could it be possible that I he really was awake:- "Was it no l all a dream r "1 m .so iired of lessons." she rsI iterated, "so tired. 1 study such a lot ot things now. Things I don't care for. : a bit. They make my head ache so. D-d your head ever ache over your le.->son>r" And they had found a husband for this girl' Had laid a living child in her arms, ajid then taken it av.av from her wiien she awoke to recognise the good and bad possibilities of her own ignorance and its helplessness. "Hid your head ache:* * she repeated. —"h yes, ' lie said. And tlien tresh wonder over it stirged up in h:3 brain and seared hiiii all over again. "i 111 to LTO to Dieppe to School again this winter." she went- on. "Do you know Dieppe? Don't- yon think it And you know what is the worst. I mavn t take my cat. Don't y-ou think that too trying:-" he looked at her asd his heart began to grew sick. He had sworn that lie would know and love the hud e.s well as the ihiwer. He recognised the oemunmgs. but they begat- no affection within him. She was boring "\os: I'm not interesting." r>he ssid at- inice, answering his thought with a. quickness t -hat made him start. "l"m stupid—n-veryone says so; J want- to be interesting, e.nd 1 don't know how. At tlje -chocl-parties 1 never liave ]>artners li.;e ' i.e etlier g rl-. I don't know what n:ls me. I'm different." In this <.iia; v : ; wail or a wallflower he roe.-gniM-;!. ;ly euougii, the silent hera.i.ing o" the day to come when the ange, horde; sh-.-iid sit impassive and w.it. ,1 t;,e I.itle skifis of little men go on tiie roelis oi winch she knew so and they sj little. -Mrs. ( hir,. sto.-d hy the chimneypiece. Ir-oAil'.g iixedly down upon him. "woi believed tiiat that W"a6 I s:; she &ske-a. 3: asked in his turn. ::i t)!:;- • the deep chairs, and ',' u , :l '! : rise. She had him aV ))ni .•] v :i? 1 ji■ i* n ,wer. She - looking away; "it v:i- ::iy -.; !3 poor little'igcor--7f rrp ntional debutante oi 1..-V, j ..;n j s what they have m "• -- 1 *bey took her from ,"' s ' , 4 ! t-each her that : :; ' 1 '•-".''Wins towards the mn..,-.-.-.., . . ii the wide world over -V •'""■' l I "•■} innocence. I call it lgnor.iiice—-eniiunal ignoranre. Admit I.la* voi; i.:;«iid ber stupid?'' mered':' >* ke " stam•*You didn't love her. You couldn't

love her. And yet she will marry. The child will marry because she knows nothing. And because she has money she will marry what is called 'well.' I ■am allowed those few days with her on condition that 1 do not 'upset/' her. lon understand that I am regarded as outside the palo of my own child's existence. You .should have seen my ■mother, with tears in her eyes, charging mo not. to wreck the future of a human lining by putting any 'queer ideas ' into her head. Tlir ■rii ,is a. reckless young roue up near their home that (hey hope to settle her with. "Later, sorrow will come anrl learn-ing-long days and longer nights and fifteen years hence she will begin to be like me ; she will .enter ou her birthright then. She will understand mo then. She will lovo me then." 110 was deeply moved —unable to fcpeak. "She's rather pretty, you know," the mother went on. "She's just what 1. was twenty years ago. It's the common talo of womanhood. AW re all so; eo will almost all of us bo for a. long time to come. Poor little daughter of mine; I was a widow at her ago, weeping bitter tears of what 1 thought bitter grief. Still quite conventional - uikl very miserable. Not pretty, not attractive—just a young widow. W'lien I was twenty-two 1 fell in love; then I began to learn. I learned fast, once I began. :Me died—that taught me much. And then 1 began to rebel—to reach out—to grow. And forthwith they swept the child out of my arms lest I should infect her with my own struggle towards Peace and Truth. Two such unworldly, uncivilised gods-." She paused, but still lie™could not cpeak.

"I mil going to tell you everything," Blio said. "Listen; then, when I go on m.v knees to you. it will not be ill vain " He moved a little at that, but she Was not looking at him. "W'liwn I was twenty-live someone Vei\ rich indeed wanted to marrv me I wouldn't do it—l couldn't do it.'Then my family turned against me altogether. Then it was that they lost all patience. I have lived alone since that more alone than anyone has ever guessed. The very soul within me is Solitary in a sense that T cannot voice. I cannot love. Love such as modern men have to offer hasn't the slightest attraction for me. It is the "whole world that I want, not a, little cell hi one corner. Before they took the child from me I saw d'or a little with her eves •_ it came to mo that I would live the higher life through her. 1 started to teach her the big truths that should set her free. And then both families, JW)r father's as well as mine, rose ii]> in open wrath, and took her from me. They have raised her, as you see, along the old, time-honoured lines She will be presented next year. She will learn life's lessons first, God's later. But oh, kind Heaven! what a twenty years will she have, come through before she stands at last where T stand now! What a wide, wide desert fo traverse! "What waste of hope and youth and love!" She stopped, and turned and looked at him. "[ want to train her for vou," ,sh.> snid, as simply as if she were no;, launching another thunderbolt. "Out cf all the men who havo loved me, ■ cm are the only one that I really like and respect. I want you to marry bee; I desiro it with all my heart. Can not be?" I have been given to.understand that there 13 a way to marry off a daughter which consists in having a man (any man will do) to tea, tolling him that he has broken a .girl's, heart, and then u.sking him point-blank what he means to do about it. Gmnniont had weathered two such bad blows in his life, hut no such mine a.s this had ever been du<' beneath his walls before. .■He 1 oso and camo to the c.hininevgieue, took her hand gently and kissed "Dear livdy," he said, "it is quite impossible because it is you, and not she that I love. She drew her band out of his. "You will not mfrry her?" she asked hopelessly. Ho paused. "1 don't want'to Have to wait twenty years to own you," lie said, striving to ■peak lightly. .« Sho looked at him, and for a, minute he hoped that sho was going to burst into tears. He was always hoping that, ..t 1 : vn - vs disappointed him. Js there no nearer wav to manage iLlc s" g , llap, ? iu ? ss into her hfe and y°!' rs • «© asked presently. ■But she turned away. .o 'l 1 K i hal ! "? ver , raarr y again," she ; • sln /;; ,y , V"t d'stinrtly; "that has been settled Jong ago. * The next year, when he returned from ,1. voyage around the world, he went to see his friend, but she was not Ixl town. He asked about her anxiously She s north-at her daughter's wedio<? ° f £ '"' a her mother Img ago."' that to derd v m f-me h t'^f Gr:lrn . mont ™ine sndeelf So 1 i,i T the ,af] y l*rbll° llacl turned quite grev in the year so grey that he didn't know m a minute (it was a fo-gy ,1 v They shook hands, and then she look' • o<* piteously up into his face fel.e married him " she said wretchwicked! 01 U;r r so T k " d—that ho dririles —" 10ws nmy * broke in a grent r, looked into his eves .1 Vi ? h ® t! once!'° themal'-