THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 10701, 22 February 1913, Page 2

THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME.

(By MARIE LEACH.)

[All Rights Reserved.]

Two lovers wore walking in nn orchard talking of a project which had occupied their minds for a considerable time. Robert was a poor man.. His grandfather had been vory wealthy, but bad died in t'lio days of tho Court of Chancery, and tho estate had passed into its insaciablo jaws—never to emerge. Minnie's people would have her marry a rich man. Therefore, Robert must make his fortune. Not that 'Minnie - cared -anything about the fortune. She,! had been so long used to having every j want gratified that a .fortune, or tho lack of it, meant nothing to her, and ! as, at present, she wanted nothing but Robert, she could not, imagine why "her | people should object.to her marrying a I man who had barely enough to keep himself, much less a wife. The incidents of food and clothing had so always been there that sho really did not realise that it took a considerable amount of money to clothe and feed her lifctlo person so daintily. However, Robert assured hor that her parents were guito right. They' could not marry in his present circumstances, and of course Robert knew.

Therefore he must go and seek his fortune, but that seemed a small matter in Minnie's eyes. Tho result of anything Robert un-, dertook was a foregone '" conclusion.: Z\linnie saw him returning ill a' few months with his pockets filled with gold —she did not liko notes, they-were so often dirty. Robert had decided to go to Australia, lb was a very long way off, aaid it would he six months before she could hear from him.- Of course, she'never doubted that tho first letter-would be to tell of his great success arid prosperity, and to fix an early date for his return That would mean a weddingl, v She.constantly had visions of gleaming white robos and Robert in his, '-wedding clothes, with a whiter' gardenia in his button-hole. In the meantime, however, tho time seemed and to-day she had ingeniously insinuated that ,as the fortune was sure to be there waiting for him to pick up it was really a'great pity to waste so much time. Didn't he think they might be/ married and go out together. Roßbert prosaically and practically pointed out to her that he could; not in any way short of stealing it get together enough money to pay' two- passages out. " And even if you didn't mind my stealing it, Minnie," he said, " as I have never had any-practice since I stole tho peaches ,m orchard, I should most certainly be caught. I was caught Over the peaches, because they weren't ripe, and after bearing it as long as I could I had to confess to mother how I' <rdt the terrible pain! It would be. worse' this time, because mother only sent me to bed and tbe storn arm of the law would take me 1 to gaol, and then I don't know when we should be married." ■ Minnie laughed merrily. Roberts little jokes were so clever 1 She resigned herself to the inevitable and gave herself up to living in the present and contemplating the time , (really ; six months wasn't go very'long) when ;he would return. - ; ' : '

•The orchard looked lovely, ; The blossoms were just falling, arid the grass was plentifully besprinkled with fragrant petals. As long os she lived an orchard in bloom reminded Minnie of that day.

The day of parting came. Both kept up a; merry show of good spirits, but the weary -months lay heavy on their hearts. Minnie laughed and talked the half-ingenuous nonsense. which Robert loved to'hear till the end. When it was all over she could cry, but not while Robert could see. He must not carry the memory of a downcast face with him across'the sea. In a vague way she felt tears would bring misfortune.

Two years seems a very long time to look forward to and a tedious time while it is* passing, but to look back on it one is surprised how short a time it seems.

It seemed so to Minnie ae she sat in her aunt's boudoir two years after Robert's departure. For the six months' letter had held no promise of immediate return, though it had been full of hope and interest.

For six months the letters had come regularly, though latterly they'had not been so hopeful. Then they had come less frequently, and now there had been none for six months. Minnie had continued to write regularly until one day, in a petulant fit at getting no letter, sho had missed a mail. She wrote full of contrition by the next boat, but as Robert's replies ceased gradually her letters grew fewer, and now she too had ceased to write. She never gave up hope, however, and if sometimes she shed a few tears into her pillow she was u healthy, happy girl and retained her usual merry spirits. No sooner had Robert been out of the way than a wealthy neighbour, who had long wished to marry her, began to lavish attentions upon her. Her people encouraged him in every way, especially the aunt with whom she was now staying.

Minnie told him plainly sho would have none but Robert, but ho'bided his time, seeming pleased to listen to a catalogue of Robert's virtues or a glowing account of his achievements in the wonderful "Land of the South."; It was inevitable under the circumstances that he should know when Robert's letters ceased. For some time her aunt had been urging her to listen to Arthur's addresses, but Minnie remained obdurate.

"You know Arthur," she said, "I like > you awfully, . and if I'd never known Robert I might perhaps have married you. But, of course, you could never be like him." The matter-of-fact tone took the sting out of the words. ' Minnie evidently thought it was patent to all that Robert was exceptional. "But," said the aunt, "you never hear from Robert now. I dare say he has married one of the natives. ' "Men often do out there." Her ideas of the conditions pertaining in that far land were rather vague. Minnie's faith was prodf against this. She trusted Robert too much even to be angry. _ It simply struck her as "too deliciously funny for anything." She made up her mind that she must write to Robert that night and tell him about it.

Time went on and still no letter from Robert

.On Christmas night, .when Arthur

called, he was shown in to a room where Minnie sat alono by tho fire. She turned to him, the firelight making a halo of hor gold-brown hair. „ Ho took hor hands in his. Christmas greeting had been on his lips as ho entered but all he said was, " Minnie I ' For a moment there was silence. Then Minnie withdrew her hands and they sat down. Hor heart was touched by his patience, and ero ho left she had promised that she would marry him on May Day unless —and Minnio stuck rigidly to this—she heard from Robert before that day. Minnio turned slowly from tho fire whou Arthur was gone. At the door she glanced back over her shoulder at the dying fire'. It seemed us though sho had laid her heart upon the embers. '•Robert, lloberi! Come homo!" she whispered. Ihen, (juiio suddenly, she smiled and went tranquilly to bed. Aext dav sho wrote and told Robert.

Robert had laiided in Australia and taken up a largo stretch of grazing country. Cattle promised to pay well and ho■ was very iiopelui. .The thought of Mmnie spurred him on. His energy was indomitable. He bought and eold cattle, making sometimes but a few shillings a bead, still, what ho did make more than paid him for his work and ho continued to write Homo in great spines. Jim, the second summer brought u drought. Many of his best cattle died and he was forced to sacrifice nearly, all the rest, When rain came at last he found himself in practically tho same position as ho had ste ted train. He was discouraged. It was about this time that his letters to Minnie ceased. Tho next feAV months were just one long struggle to regain his footing. Many a time he was tempted to throw it up and return home, but ho always felt he could not face tho girl he loved as a failure. Gradually things begftli to improve. A good year followed the drought year and his affairs prospered. The fortune began to seem a possibility at last, and Robert might have written to saythat another six months would see him home to bring Minnio back with him. Rut he had not heard from her for so long that he dreaded to get a reply that she had succumbed to Arthur's eritreaties. He knew he had only himself to blame if such were the case, but his position had looked so hopeless that he felt it would be unfair to buoy her up with expectations. Ono day a letter came from the Chancery lawyers to say they thought they had discovered something which would bring the estate out of Chancery, and requesting his immediate return. He had heard this story so often that he merely laughed, and, tossing the letter into the fire, he turned his thoughts to other things. It was Christmas Eve. , The next night, as he sat by the fire smoking" his last pipe, his thoughts, as ever, turned to Minnie. To-night he indulged himself in a day-dream he had not allowed himself of late. He fancied Minnie beside him, sitting on a low seat, leaning against his knee. Shyly, as though the flames had eyes, he moved his arm as though encircling and caressing her dear head, and gave himself up to the full enjoyment of the dream. . He knew it would mean heartache rind sleepless hours later, but he defied the thought, and sank his mind deeper in the sweet mist of imagination. Sitting with half-closed eyes, he gazed at the pile of dark logs. The flames leaped and crackled between them. ,dear, loving, light-hearted Minnie!" There was a tiny report in the fire. A jet of smoke poured out of a log. Before his wondering eyes it took shape, and it was Minnie! In soft, .grey smoke she stood.on the dancing flames as steadily, as she had stood on the blossom-strewn grass in the orchard. ' She held out her hands to him. and then turned and fled. "Robert! Robert! come home," she'seemed to "call to him over her shoulder.' He started forward. There was a sudden crash, and he again became conscious of his surroundings. ; His pipe lay broken on the floor, and the smoke and flames were leaping and drifting up the chimney as smoke and flames.should do. But he could not shake off tho impression made by the vision. Fresh ..thoughts of Arthur having taken his place came to trouble him. He turned and tossed on his camp bed. till at last determination came to him. He sat upright and spoke aloud in the darkness. ■ '. . ■ '"I'll go home'and see about the estate," he said, then lay dowii and went tranauilly to sleep. In the morning his determination remained as strong as ever, and just about the time Minnie sat writing to tell of her approaching marriage with Arthur.if he did not return, ho berran making preparations to leave for England. It took seme weeks to arrange matters, and Minnie's letter, destined never to reach him, was tossing about on the ocean long before he left.

It was April 30. Minnie was in the garden looking if perchance she might find some belated spring flowers For her bqnquet on the morrow. But her thoughts were of Robert, not Arthur. Yet there was no sadness in them. _ She did not understand the tranquillity. of her own feelings, nor did she try to understand them. Arthur would be here presently to see her for the last time before the wedding. She wandered into the orchard. Sho would go back into the garden to meet Arthur, but the orchard was for her thoughts of Robert—her good-bye thoughts. And as she had smiled his Australian farewell, so she would smile her farewell to her thoughts of him.

The gate creaked. She turned her head and lifted her eyes to the face of the man who came through it. But she was not surprised. She had known in her heart. Of course, she had known. That was why she had come into the orchard that morning. Now 'she understood why through it all she '"!•! felt no uneasiness and had always looked on Arthur in a detached kind of way. For Robert was holding her hands against his breast, and Robert was looking into her eyes with all the old love, and more shining in his own. They had talked .and chatted and laughed incessantly before he went away, when they knew all about each other; but now when they had each so much to tell they were content to say no word. It was enough that they were together again, and the intervening years fell aside and vanished like a burnt-out log whose ashes are scattered by the wind. Presently they heard a voice call " Minnie I" "Oh!" she cried, breaking the silence with a little start, "there's Arthur 1 Let's go and tell him." "Here!" she called, raising her voice at the last word, as she dragged Robert forward. At the gate they met Arthur. "Look! Look!" cried the girl her eyes shining, her voice eager. "Here's Robert come home! I always knew he'd come In time!" In her excitement she quite forgot that what was joy to her was death to Arthur's hopes. The two men gazed at each other, the colour ebbing slowly from Arthur's face. But he took his defeat like a man.

" I hope you'll be happy, Minnie," he said, his voice sounding strange in his own ears. Then he turned and wont slowly back to his empty house, fitted up brightly for the wife who was not coming. He knew remonstrance was useless, and would only cause unpleasantness. He was badly hurt, but not irrecoverably. By and by ho would love and win another bride, but not just yet. Robert and Minnie looked at one another a trifle guiltily as Arthur left. X'iey both felt in. a Jarge degree re.

sensible for their old schoolmate's but in thoir own now-found 'i<ipv'.(iess they soon forgot it. !Ja the house it was somewhat different. Minnie's family were enraged, but littlo cared she.

in reply to her aunt's wail about all iha guests being invited, sho sard : "I don't mind what you say. I told you that if Robert Thompson carr.e homo I'd marry him, and not Arthur, even if we were in tho middle of the service. So be thankful wo were not in tho church when ho canio, because if tho parson had been just asking me would 1 have this man, and I'd heard Robert, I'd have said, 'No, 1 won't; I'm going tn marry Robert Thompson.' So there.'

Robert laughed. This was just tho old Minnie.

"And," wont on Minnie, "as for everybody being risked, lot them come. I'll bo married all right; only to- Robert, not to Arthur. It's me the people will como to look at, r.o I can't see that it mattors to thorn whom I mirrv."

And she had her way. Tho change of bridegrooms was known to no one outside tho family before the ceremony, and there v.'as much whispering and craning of necks when it was discovered that the man quietly waiting boforo the altar rails was not Arthur. Robert's home-coming had been a wild goose-chase so far as the estate was concerned, but the young couple cared nothing for this, as they set sail for their colonial homo. " Are you disappointed about the money, RobortP'' asked Minnie.

Robert laughed and shook his head. " I guessed the old lawyer had found a mare's nest- It wasn't that that brought me home. I came home to look after 'Tho Girl I Left Behind Me.' "