The Storyteller.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXIV, Issue 31, 27 November 1896, Page 23

The Storyteller.

MISS LORIMER'S LOIMJHRS.

IN TWO C'HAPTKKK (By Dawn Grayl in An Munu.) CHAPTER I. "0 MlSfl KaTli:. go quick. — see out the window ' Them's them yonder : The new folks from the old Judge's rented place. Ain't he got a heavy winter suit o' hair on for such a hot day ! " Barbara's shrill voice from the foot of the stairs startled her mistress in the act of adjusting her Sunday bonnet. With its lilac strings flying, she hastened to her point dc n/f. " Why. bless my eyes ' " she exclaimed leaning eagerly out. '■Them" were just turning off from the main street into the tree-fringed lane that ran by Miss Lorimer's house, — a slender young girl in mourning, and an old man of knightly bearing, whose stern, deeply-lined face caught a leonine aspect from the mane of snowy hair falling about it. "Why, bless my eyes!" repeated Miss Lorimer. '"The new folks I Sure that's the old Judge himself, and Miss Emma grown up to him, — old Judge Fardon, that bought the first land that ever was sold here, for his summer house, when Willerville was a wee bit of herself. And to think of the shame and pity of their comin' back in a thunder-storm last night to that tumblety place. that ain't been aired since the Greens left off rentin' it ' How well I remember the summers he usfd to come with the trunks and the servants by the dozen, and his young wife with her spine-of-the-back trouble I He wasn't so very old then ; it's a grand and mighty sorrow that's wrung and bleached him that a-way. It ain't a day over fifteen years since the last season they spent here and give their grounds for that picnic to finish the church ; and the son. they loved the shadder of, down from college to help ; and little Miss Emma all in white, with blue ribbons — the Holy Mother's colours ; and now — -yonder she goes all in black. Dear, dear ! the whole world does seem changed, too from white to black since that

time " — her voice slipped down many tones at this point. " Sure, true enough, that was the very summer I give up Joe to stay on with mother." " Ma'am ! " said Barbara, entering at that instant. Poor Miss Lorimer's conversations with memory were often thus suddenly interrupted by her listening servant's " Ma'am? " So, with a start that lashed some old pink over her faded cheek, she made answer : " Sure, Barbara, I ought to be sayin 1 , ' We'd better be gettin' off to Holy Mass ourselves rather than watchin' our neighbours get there before us.' And lam just hopin' that Miss Emma and her father will find the same comfort for their troubles in the Lord's promises and dear Father Marvin's sermons as some other folks with troubles that I knows of have." So the kind soul was deeply grieved when she saw the knightly old Judge pacing up and down the well-beaten path in front of the dear little ivy-wreathed church on the hill, while its Bweet-toned bells sang, " Enter enter I" — with his head bowed and his hands locked behind him, pacing up and down outside the church, while his daughter knelt within it. Had some of earth's cruel stormwinds " blown out the candle of his faith "? Miss Lorimer glanced pityingly over to the girlish figure in the " strangers' pew " as she entered her own ; and into her prayers that morning for "prisoners, infidels, heretics, strayed and wounded lambs," she slipped the name of " poor Miss Emmas pa." Miss Lorimer was one of those unselfish, all-loving little creatures from whom are made the best of daughters, wives, mothers, friends ; or who, missing active employment in any or all of these callings, become simply the best of women. From her mother she inherited enough rich, red Celtic blood to keep her faith green through all droughts and frosts, her heart warm, her honest blue eyes bright with a smile or a tear as sympathy demanded, and to scatter through her speech a trifle more " sures " than seemed really necessary in one so uncertain of herself as Kate Lorimer. Her lnoyrn-rivrr — a small fancy-goods store — stood on a corner, a window on each street ; and in the decoration of those windows — which it was her great ambition to make look " just like Paris "—" — her circumstance-thwarted artistic talent found outlet. Their colour-scheme, worked in bright worsteds against a background of white, was always harmonious ; there were taste and feeling in the fingers that gave such loving pats to the " baby things," and trimmed so gracefully with a yellow crape scarf the stiff little sign of " Stamping done here." Not a foot had slowed before the tempting display all the next morning ; not a customer sounded the alarm boll, which rang at every movement of the door. ■' Ding-ding "at last. The Judge's daughter, in the softest of sweet voices. %\ns asking for a skein of silk. Not a feature of that strong, dark, young face escaped Miss Lorimer . the sweet, sensitive mouth, the broad, white, curl-shadowed forehead, the great sad, yearning eyes — eyes that had watched for many a night (couldn't any one see it ; ) and cried themselves to sleep. For Miss Emma's many causa 1 larri/warum had, naturally enough, formed source of gossip in the tiny village, where, as in many a larger community, '• our neighbour's affairs " are given precedence in debate to our own. It was two months now since the Judge had fallen ill ; only young Dr. Catherwood's devotion by day and by night had brought him through. And it was while lying at Death's door that, despite all entreaties, he had stubbornly refused to sec a priest — and that priest Father Marvin, with his sunny smile warm with the perennial summer of inward peace. whi)-c ten years' ministry had endeared him to his flock as no other pastor had been endeared. Surely there was no heart's door so low or so narrow but Father Marvin could just bend his head, pull himselt together and walk in. •• Indeed. Father." said Miss Lorimer once to the dear priest himself. " it's again and again that my thoughts go back to that poor Miss Emma, and her father out of the fold, when I remember the time he was as good and true a Catholic as ever leaned on the Lord for strength. It must be some mighty sorrow that's changed the heart of him." •' Yes." replied the priest, with a sigh. " But while there is life there is hope, for the soul as for the body ; and I place great trust in that pure young daughter's intercession and special devotion to our Blessed Mother. There are some who. while still on earth, writhe m flames of their own enkindling. We must not forget to pray tor them, my child, as we pray tor the souls in purgatory." So a thousand words of sympathy rose to Miss Lorimer's lips as she laid the skein of silk in its purchaser's hand ; but she only asked • •■ Is there anything else, Miss ? " •• Well, yes," said the girl, with sudden resolution. "Do you ever have orders for embroidery — anything in needlework ? " The colour in the olive cheeks deepened ; she paused. " Sure," replied Miss Lorimer, slowly. •• Along about Christmas I might." ■•Christmas ' " There was a note of despair in the tone ; the '• eyes " turned to a beribboned calendar over the counter, and said sadly " This is only June." ••What sort of things is it. Miss' Sure if I could see them I could tell better," said the little storekeeper tenderly, her thoughts re\erting to the days of "' trunks and servants," and now — and now. ■■ Oh. a number of articles ' " returned the Judge's daughter, nervously. "The work of a young person who has a great deal of leisure. 1 will send them to you. if I may ; and if you find any among them you could place on sale and set a price upon — " " Sure." interposed Miss Lorimer, some of the " thousand words" of sympathy breaking from their restraint, •'it's every one of them that I'll be placin' on sale, and gettin" the good price for, too, from them that's able to pay it — them that's picked up the fortunes that others have lost. And it's proud and happy lam there's the least tiling I can do for you. You don't remember me— why should you ' — but it s me that remembers you like yesterday ; a little angel all in white, sittin' by your father in church, in those blessed days when he was—himself. And many's the prayer I've said to see him

here again, Miss, well and strong ; and seem' all plain, with his ,p-rief and trouble wiped out by the touch of God's grace." Next morning an old negro. '• with young Missus' compliments,'" deposited on Miss Lorimer' s counter a large basket, from whose depths, with many exclamations of admiration, the little storekeeper drew forth •■ things of beauty " ot every variety — work of needle and of brush. A black enamel phupn . painted in St. Joseph's, lilies. she caught up with a positive cry of delight : the beautiful in nature and art always --made her throat feel too full to express herself " in words. It was with the amount of the price set on that phnjnr. abstracted from her small "sa\in's." that Miss Lonmer took the way to the Judge's house a fortnight later. — a whole fortmnht. in which all the other articles had been •• Oh-ed ' and ■■ Ah-ed ' and '* Lovely -ed " o\er by her best customers, but not one purchased b\ them. •• How very good of you te) come in the rain — how very goeid ' " Sciid the softest ot sweet voices, out ot the dusk of the gloomy old parlour. ■• Sure. Miss, many's the day sooner I've grieved not to have been able to come.' replied Miss Lorimer. in embarrassment : roughly using the bunch of geraniums she had delicately planned to lay in Miss Emma's hand at the same time 1 with the money, and finally dropping them with a metallic clink to their i-tern* " All the rest will be soon, but the />!tn/i/t'.s sold now. and here's just a bit ot w hat it's worth. Sure. Miss, those lilies are pure and fresh from the garden enough to lay on the Blessed Mother's altar, and more real lookin' than the branch St. Joseph holds in his statue. The fine taste of a hidift hand is in them, and it's achin" my heart is to think of that poor younn" creature whatever did them all. and that's bespoken your kind interest to turn them into money. It's a bargain they'd be at any price, as I told Mrs. Gardner when she wanted to cheapen that beautiful j>h/qiir. Ah. Miss ' it's the rich that are most after bargains. • .\/ r, r .' said I. ' I'd buy ir myself first.' Though it's, not every purse ma'am, that has a gold linin . ' '• Docteir." said Judge Fardon suddenly one da_\. "you won't allow me to eat. walk, sleep or think, except as you direct. Promise me to place some professional or friendly restrictions on that little Penelope yonder Every moment she's not hovering like an angel over me, she's busy with some fancy work — all day spinning, and I should suppose all night ravelling, and no returning-J Ulysses to wait for. Make her go out. and blow some ol the stoop from her shoulders and some colour into her cheeks. She s all I have left in the wide world now. sir. and I want her to be strong and hearty, like — a boy." It had not needed these words of the Judge to call to the young physician's notice the curious fact that e\ try moment Miss Emma's slender white hands were not otherwise engaged, they were tangled in a net ot silk or linen threads, the taper "thimble finger always thimbled. Giving the matter much thought, he reached many conclusions, all pathetic. With a sigh, he glanced over to the fair picture she made in the embrasuie ot the western window, the last rays of a setting sun resting tenderly on her dark, bowed head. To utter, as promised, professional and friendly remonstrances, he paused beside her chair on his way out. and. lingering thereto listen to he'i eaner assurance. -o nidily contradicted by her heavy eye s. that "she was never tind.'her s\\ee>t lauirh. launhed. he knew too well, solely to rejoice lie r lathers ear. he took up an end of the emhi oideiy o\ c r which her fume rs flew with te\erish rapidity, and examined it w ith the air ol a connoisseur — it was a square ot hem-titehel linen, bi strew n With puiple pansies. U"- he would know it anywhoie. and soon it hung. iiT.icef ully suspended ac ros-. Mi--, Loinnei's window Dr Oatlit'iw ood was ili i\ ing s| o w 1% when H caunht hi- i\e. and the' next moment his biiLL:\ wa- -tandinu biloielni dooi "Sure. sir. s)i,. said biawly "its The w oik of a \ ounn huh that Miss Emmas interested in . but it s line and -oil and Uautilul as if she had done it hcw-lt. •• It is. said the doctor coughing 'and I want e\ei\ tinny in the window . and e\e lything cUe that — i 01m - tioni her to s t ml linnieat Christmas — to ni\ mother" And the deal vnnii; doctors face, as hi' folded e\ ei^\ thing aua\ — most ot the bundle's m that deep, left-hand breast-pocket — brought befoie Miss Lorimer a newr-to-be-toruotteu fate', that so shone' onee 1 all ior hi r. •• The Holy Mother bless and keep them that lows tom ther she sobbed that nmht. with her cheek auanist "Joes faded daguerreotype', "and help all the m that s p.uted to walk aloni ' (To hi Cunt mm il )

*"~ P.P.P. — The <:rt'at remedy ior Sciatica. Sprain- Neural.: i.i To be had from all chemists. — Al)\ l. '• Wilko- is a most ab-uid somnambulist" Wli.it - lit done now'" "He'-jiKi'Dini' back trom a,\ achting hohda\ . }on know and last night he sat down m a hath and baled it out until he flooded the whole floor. Here i.s a good story lrom the ('re-cent - — "A Baptist clubman in Liverpool who is about to pay a \Mttntlic Holy Land (Christian), was making a gieat bran alumt Ins intended jouimy to a member of the Liverpool Moslem Institute •When I net there the parson said m his best pnlpit tore •• I w ill stand whi-ie Mo-es stood and read the Ten ('oinmandin nts trom the top of .Mount Sinai.' • You had much better stop.it home and ke( p them, v .is the Moslem's laconic reph .