A GIRL'S DREAM.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXX, Issue 40, 2 October 1902, Page 23

A GIRL'S DREAM.

(Conclusion) And yet probably he would marry some time, though even that idea was to him like a novelty. He had never seen any woman who came at all between his mother and himself, never any who at all camo near her place in his heart, unless He stopped to think carefully. Yes, he was ve/y fond of Ettie, very ; but — As in a dream. Tom painted what the house would be if Ettie lived therei always. It was pleasant now to have her como and go with her vagaries and her jests and her childish tricks, and tho music which was indeed an unfailing source of delight, but it would bo far otherwise to have these things before him without cessatian or hope of relief. How changed the rooms would be from their perfect order • Ettie' s shawl on the centre-table, her gloves an the great bowl of dried rose-leaves, her crochet! downstairs, her needle upstairs, her restless presence every where. It was a sweet and lovely presence, but it would be such a bother sometimes. It would be expen.sivo also, and ready money was noiio too easy for tho Hurds to find just then. Ettie was not economical , he would feel obliged to help her father and Anne. ho might ha'sc to dress less exquisitely ; certainly he would have to give up his horse No, it could not be. The whole idea was foolish; he would put it out of his mind entirely. Besides, he was so much older than Ettie. Yet through all his colloquy with himself, that pathetic faco pleaded with, him, and a sweet voice full of tears cried out to him — ' 'Tis long, long, long on the way.' It revealed her to him as he had never yet known her. This child had it in her to become more than a child. Dwelling in his peaceful home, gladdening his parents-, who loved her dearly, and gladdened by their unfailing lote, sure of a husband's care and patience always about her, what might not Henrietta be 9 ' Perhaps,' Tom thought moodily , then shook Ins head 'Jtns too great a risk,' quotli prudent Tom Hurd Little ho knew how great a risk the child was r.unning, whose soul was far too deep for his prudent soul to read. The three weeks that intervened between that night and the day Henrietta 'bade farewell to Maviot were weeks which, e\en in after years, when she had learned to ' see divinest meaning threading each separate pain,' she could not remember without keen .suffering

Anne had to make every preparation for them all , Henrietta was (if no more use. than a baby.

' I am not going away from Ma■\iot,' sho persisted obstinately.

Each morn ing she thought : 'Ho will ask mo to-day

Each night when she laid her woary head upon her pillow, sho murtnured : ' He will surely come tomorrow.' And the days went by, and the nights went by, and ho never said that little word which she fancied must render earth all that she could desire.

Nobody probed her secret They pitied the poor dull face that nevertheless refused to lose its rich) color and its childlike plumpness She ate her naealft regularly and almost greedily with a sense that they served for a time, to divert or to deaden her thoughts She sang and played as she used, only with a feverish haste and excitement. They went to tho Hall to tea. On their last eventing they said their farewells composedly, all except Ettie, who positively refused to say good-bye at all She was not going, sho said And then at homo sho crawled up to her room for her la6t night there.

Did Tom Hurd sleep peacefully that night ? Did no disturbing influence upon his placid spirit bring him into magnetic connection with all the angjuiish which at so short a distance away, that ' little girl ' was enduring ? When she suffered, body and soul suffered together. Quivering, all drawn into a confused heap upon Che carpetless floor, she wore away one weary hour after another, counting the strokes of the clock whenever it sounded, as if each fell lime a scourge across her body and her soul, till nature gave way and) she slept.

And there, on the floor, Anno found her in the morning, too weak to make any resistance or to seem to care. ' Nicodemus a slave ' thofie three words were literally everything she was able clsarly to g\et into her mind, as the cip.rs 'boro her fnom the bright past to tho hopeless future, though she was dimly conscious that they meant to her that nothing but a bondage of misery was before 1 her, with no hope of emancipation. 11. 84 Wayo place — this, then, was the place of their new home. Henrietta emerged a little from her apathy and looked about her A dull street, a dreary house — how could she enter that house ' And standing, on tho topmost step, as she has stood not •so many weeks before at llurd Hall door, sho turned and looked. No sunset sky now, no restful moon ; and yet, as Henrietta stood there, tho tired, hungry expression went away from her face, and once again that fm-off quiet look was m her eyes.

Before her, just across the street, was a chur.ch. Henrietta had nc\cv seen so largo a building The mas-s-no stones piled one upon another, tho square-built tower, the broad, commanding front gave a sense of strength and surety , and the doors stood open, and now and then somo ono came in or went out quietly, opening an inner door, through whiich sho caught a glimpse of long aisles and towering 'pillars, and fur away a dun red light 'It will })o q,uiet m there,' said Honrietta. ' It will rest me. I will go in theic."

She had always been a Catholic, but not a strict one Mass on Sunday, the Sacraments a few tunes a yoiw, a, few morning and cloning prayers and the rosary, had satisfied her conscience They had li\ed at quito a distance fi om the church, and she had never been in the habit' of going there for rest or comfort

Sho crept in now and knelt down beforo tho altar, hiding her faces against the sanctuary rail There was no sem ice going on ; tho organ, so dea.ii to this poor little soul, was silent. Henrietta grew silent, too, in brain and heart. She was so tired, so fettered, so heartsore — she wai just like Nicodemus the slave, but without, his hope. Silence ,( and yet, more clear, more powerful, than sound of words, she was conscious of the thought of the Sacred Heart upon tho altar, yearning towards her, loving her.

'My yoke is sweet, and My I>uiden light, and I will give you lu^t. My yoke — MY yok,e is rwool

Sho was not pnayung or acting consciously m any way whate\er. Passive she knelt there "in tho piesenco of the Lord, and He drew her gently and taught her a lesson sho had never known before

Thero was a yoke, and it was swcctJ thero was a slavery which was better than freedom

Tha£ part of her nature which the calm sunset sky had had power to

stir and soften had met at length that influence which could fully satisfy -it and break Henrietta's bonds. "His yoke is sweet,' she sighed atj last. 'I wish I were a slave to Him. then ! '

Not the highest of motives ? Ah! shall we cavil at it ? Thene are those whom the tender Shepherd chooses to carry in His annas.

In tho new Home Anne was toiling wearily. • Shall I help you, dear T Henrietta asked, and went with ready content to work It was not hard to worn just then. Everything looked bright to her with that yoke upon her heart, and that tender presence near. Strange ! she had had it all her life, had been a Catholic always, and yet how s.he had fretted and hungered for other and lesser things ! There was a sweeter life opening to Henrietta now, just aa she thought all joy was gone ; she entered into it gladly, like a weary child come home to its parents' arms .

Tom Hurd lived on, in untnoubled serenity, for a full year in Maviot. Then, after a week's brief illness, hdsj mother died ; and it came to pasa then with Tom Hurd that he suddenly discovered that life meant more to him than a fine horse, fine clothes, a well-ordered house, and quiet days. None of these things) contented him now. It made hia heart ache to see hia father sit sad) and lonely where another form had sat for so many years beside hjim. Ho longed for a woman's presence to bring the daily sunshine and th« daily comfort that a woman's; presence can so gently give. And, strangely, all these longings took the name of Henrietta.

1 I want her,' said Tom. 'I don't care if she is a bother sometimes. Sho is a darling always.' One night his fathen spoke of hail. 'It would be very pleasant to sco Ettie again,' he said.

'So I think, father,' exclaimed lorn. 'Would you like to have mo go for her ? Father, how would you like Ettie for a daughter ? ' It was worth some sacrifices — even the sacrifice of a horse, perhaps — to see tho brightening of the aged faqe. ' Bring them all home,' the squire said, 'It will comfort me to see James Denison, whom I have known from a boy.'

Tom made his arrangements, and in a week departed for Baynooth. ITe did not send word that he was coming ; he wanted to see Henrietta's start of joy when he met her unexpectedly. Would she have altered ? No, he did not wish her altered. Could she have met and caned for someone else ? No ; there had been letters before and since his mother's death, and they contained not the slightest ground for suspecting anything of that sort. Sho would bo the very Ettie he knew of old, ready and glad to come 'homo ' to the old ways and the old life which would have no mora separation lin it.

Baynooth was a smoky, manufacturing city. Tom, alibeit he was not given to sentimentalities, shivered a little at sight of the streets where his country flower had been doomed to dwell so long. Would she have faded and dr.ooped ? But he would soon bring back the freshness to her life.

No 84 Wayo place— that was their address , he found the row of dreary brick houses, and then the door which he sought. Anne answered his ring, and welcomed him kindly, tho tears coming to her eyes at sight of his mourning, for everyone had loved Madam Hurd. Yet Anne looked mora cheerful than she used, Tom thought. Tho sitting-room into which he was shown was dingy and dank. Nothing was to be seen from the window, except a dark and dingy street, a dark and dingy tenement opposite, a few dismal passera-by. Henrietta's piano stood open, with some music on it. It's owner was away giving a lesson ; she would soon be at home. Yes, she was well,

very well, Anne said, and so was papa. How was the squire ? And then questions and answers and sympathy followed in regard to Madam Hurd's illness and death ; and suddenly, in the very midst of a sentence, courteous, self-possessed Tom stopped short, for he heard a light step on the pavement outside, and he seemed to feel it on his heart.

He saw Henrietta before sho saw him— saw the sweet, child face, more sweet, more like a child's than ever, more free from care. But, turning arid beholding him, a gray shade orept over it. She put out her hand with a sharp movement, as if somothjing pained her. What did it moan? He spent the evening with thejn as} o! «ld in talk and music, only the shadow of the recent grief — he thought, or tried to think— made Henrietta quieter ; then he went away, promising to return on the morrow. And in that night, thinking of her face and her sweeter hear t^ the strong chains of a man's true love wound themselves around him, making him a willing captive; whole in that nigfct another soul could notJ sleep for joy, but sang thanksgivings and wept happy tears, becauso the chains of its own forging had dropped off, and the good time long looked for was seen already present, and ' Nicodemus the slave ' was awake and was free.

Tom; cam« next morning and saw Henrietta alone, and told her all — told of the lonely house, the long, lonely evenings, spoke of his business, of his plans, hie future. She looked so young and inexperienced ; it was much that Tom was bringing to offer into her care and oversight. ' Dttie,' he sadd, when the long] prologue was ended, ' we want you very much. Would you like to come home to us, to live with us always in the old place, and take care of us— you and your father and Anne?'

Her whole face kindled 'into an amazement of delight ; but before its loveliness, utierly devoid of earthly feeling, Tom shrank back in awe.

' O, Cousin Tom ! ' she cried rapturously, ' how good God -is ! how good God is ! I have been waiting, hoping, pnaying for something like this. I can't go to you and Uncle Hurd, Tom, but Anne can, and father, and then I shall be able to have my wish at last. And Anno will suit you both so nicely ; she is not disorderly and troublesome like me, and she can keep house beautifully when sho has enough. And I— oh ! how shall I thank you cousin Tom ? I shall have my heart's desire.'

V What ia it, Ettie," ho asked in, dull foreboding.

'I have not even told Anno yet,' sho answered humbly. ' f havo been so happy this year. O Cousin Tom ! you can't tell how unhappy I was to come hero. lam ashamed to think of ity now — how selfish and mean I was. Oh ! how wretched it would have been if I had had what I wanted then.' ' What did you want then ? ' said Tom. A slight flush was on her face. ' Don't ask me,' she pleaded. 'I am ashamed to remember it. I wanted just to be comfontaJblo and easy, never thinking about anybody else or anything better. But when I came here ' She paused. ' When you came here ? ' repeated Tom sadly, and, in the pauso that still continued, all at onco he seemed to see her again as he had seen her in the porch that winter evening, leaning forward towards him, her scarlet cloth fallen off her head and about her neck, the rough curls shining round her face, her trembling lips, the tears in her large eyes. Onco more be seemed to hear the weary hunger of her song. The comfort she miight have craved then would be vaJinly offered now. She would never say to him again : ' I

haven't got to go away,, hava I, Cousin Tom ? '

She was thinking her thought out to herself. Quavering she stood there, as if tossed ibjetwixt joy and pain. ' What I wanted never could have been,' she said huskily. ' All sorts of comforts and ease and love couldn't have stopped the aching.' Tom understood her. He was" a Catholic, come of an old Catholic line. Meagre as his spiritual life might be, he knew and reverenced the truth of the three great counsels. No sort of earthly happiness could ever have contented this delicato nature, filled with desires insatiable in every way but one. He waited reverently for her to speak again, and the quivering frame grew still, and into Henrietta's eyes came that far-off look, nevealing more and more to Tom the depth of this child's nature, which was indeed that likeness to a little child which gains an entrance to higher joys than those of earth.

' I wanted God,' she said ; ' I wan~ ted God. He rests me and He is enough'

Tom Hurd wont home alone, pondering a deep lesson as he journeyed thither. What was life and what was God to him ?

By and by there followed him to Hurd mansion an old man to be Ms father's hourly companion, and with James Denison there came his daughter Anne. Early aged by care and suffering,, the qjuiet of 'her. present lift* brought freshness to body and soul ; she took delight in ministering! to the old people and to Cousin Tom, and Tom found comfort in the very sense of her contented thankfulness.

Strange marked changes came to tho old place People wondered what had altered Tom Hurd. He had always been considered a very exemplary young; man, but he was drifferent' now. Like a< man with a sett purpose he lived his life — a life oft alms-deeds and daily, thoughtful kindnesses — and Anne soon began to work with him heartily.

One day it came to pass that these friends, only so-called cousins, were married.

I do not claim for them any romance. This alone I do claim : that they achieved that sacrament of matnimony wherein they found grace to love one another in the Lord, and thatl quietly and truly all their lives they did so love each other. There was a chapel built after a time on tho fTurd estato, where poor people came freely, and where tho old sqauro and Mr Denison mado daily preparation for their end, and where Tom and Anne lean red more and more to work for. God.

' They are most unselfish people,' so their neighbors said. ' How happened it ? '

Happened ? Among those who camo and went at Hurd Hall through all the years that Anno reigned there one sweet ginl-faco was never seen again,, one sweet girlvoice never more rang echoing upwards to tho massjive rafters. When Henrietta said farewell rin Baynooth to her only relatives it was a final word. The soul that had delighted in song and mirth and creature comfort found its joy in prayer ; tho heart that had craved for earth bocame content with the Sacred H^art alone. When people praised Tom Hund for the good works that ho was doing, he and Anne mused upon a hidden life that once was as a part of their lives. ' Her prayers are doing- more for us and for those vre strive to help than we are doing,' they said. — • Catholic World."

Tho Duke of Norfolk was one of the fifty gentlemen recently invested by the King with the Royal Victorian Order.

The death has occurred of Professor Ferdinand Lefebvre, M.D., of Louvain, one of the most eminent Catholic physicians on the Continent.