The Storyteller HER TRUE STORY

New Zealand Tablet, 15 November 1906, Page 3

The Storyteller

HER TRUE STORY

'And so you area journalist ?', said Captain John Denvers, looking intently into fche. pale r ' delicate " features of ' the girl whom he had taken into dinner at Mrs. Dewbury's farewell party,- given in his honor. ' Do you know, I do admire a woman who works for ,her i living. There is something grand, something ennobling about her.' ' Sometimes necessity makes us work when we should otherwise be lazy,' answered Silvia Clarke, with a wistful smile ; ' and writing is not always such a spontaneous operation as ''people- imagine it to be. Tonight, for instance, when I get home I shall have to burn the midnight oil for many hours ere I close my eyes.'- ■ John Denvers was looking' incredulously, so the girl nodded her head, .with a look of conviction on her features.- ' Yes, ' she continued'; r I ought not to have come here to-night, as I have a story to write. But dear Mrs. Dewbury insisted, and would take no refusal, so I put my woric aside^to please her. I. shall have to make up for lost time, since the printers will be • waiting for copy to-morrow, that's all?*'Oh; I don't "mind a bit, really,' for Denvers " muttered 1 something about a ' shame.' ' And I- believe I've got part of my plot- already, and then putting the story together is only half the battle. '♦ *.. , V -. 'Brave little woman.' said ' Silvia's companion; admiringly. 'How long- have you 'been -doing this sort of work ?' ; - T ' Since I lost my parents, three years ago,' she answjered gravely, and • there; was a touch of pathos in , her voice. ' And although it was very harcL^at first to get accustomed to continued disappointments, I tfieel to be patient and not to lose heart. I' am quite successful .and contented now ' — she feared Wr«,t/vmaping words had implied a complaint, ' and was eajppfl dispel that impression— •' so please don't pity me, for I have been very lucky on ihe whole.' . >•_ ' Lucky,.' repeated Denvers, with a' curl lip - .while it struck him that fate had been 'monstrously unkind^ to this lonely, beautiful girl. Lucky to have, to- fight her way in. the' world without 0 a "'protecting' arm to 'guard her 'from its "bruising caries 3aiid Vehement ills' ! „ Lucky, notwithstanding the ifia^gfstEu^Sb" to keep body aud soul together ! Lucky T" She nacf said it^wrth a cheerful, hopeful smile, in spite of the heartache she must undoubtedly experience af.times.when literary adyenturerers and^'dishonest " editors failed' to keep their faith with her.- • He* ■ glanced with gentle pity at the delicate ungloved hand at his side, and longed to take it and press it . tightly in his own. ' It's hard on the little -giii,-' .he mused * ' and she's awfully pretty, too._ Why didn't f meet her be- : fore- this? -Just as 1 leaving for India, and the next ; two-, years are mapped- but for me, I- meet^a" girl charming, accomplished, interesting— yes, by'-i'ove ! ' extremely interesting— in fact, a woman after my own • heart and taste." She fascinates " me from" the moment I .set eyes on her, and I feel irresistibly drawn" toward her. She is just the very girl I could-'have loved, although two hours ago, l wasn't even; aware -of- her existence.' What an awk ward 'beggar TTateT". is, to be sure; she's- always upsetting somebody.'- . ' • And at that moment there was a stir, and the " ladies were retiring from the dinner table and Silvia vanished -from John Denvers' side— not without a smile, .however, from her adorable,, upturned face, which sent a rush of blood . to his heart and made him wish more than ever that he ' might have postponed his journey to India indefinitely. Meanwhile Mrs. Dewbury had marched Silvia into the conservatory, and was chaffing her about her evident conquest of .".Captain Denvers. 'Isn't he nice V- Mrs. Dewbury was asking ' What a pity it «is that he is obliged to leave us •so soon.' - ~ ' When does he go ?' inquired -Silvia, absently. No- __ thing mattered much to her in her dull,' loveless ""world, and this man's coming and going' were- surely synonymous, considering she, too, had never heard of his . existence until the day before,- when Mrs.. Dewbury's hurried little note had asked her to ' come and amusea -really charming soldier, who was just oS to India.' The invitation has roused her in' the midst of her work, and she had rushed to her scanty wardrobe to see whether or not her clothes would\ permit of her accepting. A black silk skirt, somewhat the" worse for . wear, and a pale pink chiffon blouse came to the rescue, and. after some local attention to these with the aid of a flat-iron, Silvia had thought to abandon her dreary work for a few hours' pleasant recreation at Mrs. Dewbury's. Of course; she would have to work

into the small hours to .make" up for lost time, 'but that, mattered little; the evening was sure to -bel. a pleasant one^-Mrs; ---Dewbury's parlies generally were.' 'He "leaves- to-morrow night.' -said Mrs. Dewbury, legretfully, ' and we shall miss him more than I can tell you, for he is always the life and , soul of our gatherings'. -'You seemed to get on famously together, Silvia, as he, never turned his eyes from your direction during 'dinner, and it's your own fault,' she added significantly, - ' if you didn't meet him. ere " this. On both the previous occasions, of his dining here 'you were asked to join us, but you wrote each time that you couldn't leave your work. I wish, child, that you were not so horribly conscientious,' Mrs. Dewbury continued, pinching Silvia's peach-like cheek. ' You are too young to give up all the pleasures of life for that monotonous writing, writing, writing.' ' But I have no pleasures in life that I prefer to my work, 1 sai-d Silvia", warming to her' subject, ' excepting, of course, visiting a few old. friends like yourselves. And besides, dear Mrs. Dewbury, I have my living to earn. No one can do that but myself-, and so 1 ouglrt to be grateful for, small mercies and - take what the gods, give me -and ( be content.' * - ' Fiddlesticks !'. said Mrs. Dewbury, emphatically. 1 You ought to marry. 1 calL it perfectly -disgraceful that a pretty, accomplished- girl like you should ' not _ have been snapped up long eie this. How old areyou ? Twenty-two. Well, I call ib disgraceful ! 1 don't know what the men are about !' Silvia laughed in a pretty, _amused way, and took her hostess' hands between her own. '„You dear, kind, sweet enthusiast, 1 don't want to marry ; I am quite content,' she said. l I feel sure I'm destined to be an old maid.' ' Why ?' - . _ ' Oh, because I have never seen anybody I could like sufficiently to~ care for always.' ' That's nonsense, my child ; wait till Mr. Right comes. Good gracious, John, how you startled me !' for Captain Delivers had walked" up to the> ladies ;«,so quietly that they had not heard him, and he stood., looking at them without speaking. 1 Aren't you going to smoke V Mrs. Dewbury inquired, rather ruffled at having been taken unawares. ' Of course I am, '-'-he answered complacently, after a pause. ' And that's why I thought I would ask Miss to come for a stroll in the garden and keep me company. Will you-?' he added, stooping over the girl. ' It's such a lovely night, and if you put on a wrap you can't possibly take cold. 'By all means, go,' said -Mrs. Dew bury-, with alac- - rity, as she rose and answered for Silvia, who was hesitating. l Take her for a turn, John,- but don't let ■ her take cold.V ,-. Silvia rose' in a half-shy, half-fearful way and ' silently took the - arm that was proffered her. Since the year in which she had been robbed of ! both parents, and had existed under the immediate ' guardianship of a- .deaf old maiden aunt, Silvia • had passed through life with a sort of inanimate indifference.. She had , tried with passionate veher" mence to bury- her grief in her work, and -had so far' succeeded, inasmuch as her life had become a calm, - uneventful one, neither joyful nor sorrowful, * but just impassive. , - - ■ Her daily occupations did not permit of- her overstepping the confining poverty and narrowness of her surroundings, and so she just plodded on, trying to cheer the old " lady with whom she lived from her state of muteness and lethargy, and working with might and main .to keep .her tiny household from actual want,. - But to-night, it seemed" as though, for the first time, she _ was living again p"urely for the sake of liv- . ing. The warm night air out in the garden fanned het cheeks ; the sweet scent oL .the flowers installed her with a- new thankfulness, and -her, senses seemed to have become possessed of an unknown, unexpected, joy. * And yet there was nothing strange, nothing unusual in a man whose dining companion she had been asking her to .stroll with him round the grounds of a friend's house while he smoked a cigar. They were seated below a verandah, the roofing "of which was festooned by ' trailing vines , which hung down almost to their feet." Silvia -sat against a background of Jrugo vine leaves, and the shadows between her and a brilliant moon cast great patterns over her delicate form. Her head " was uplifted, and the dark, luminouseyes, mysterious, intent, and searching, impressed John Denvers with marvellous possibilities. He watched her carefully through the drifting smoke "of his Havana, and - again wondered why, in the name of Fortune, -he had never met her before. Silvia's "mood alternated between enthusiasm" on one point ,and seriousness on the other, and -she chatted on from subject to subject generally dealing with her work, her hopes, her aspir-

ations," but with all that charm, „ of gentle docility which a man. so indisputably likes. Her simple tfranfc-vt franfc-v ness and naturalncss^was. fast adding -xfeyr forces to her 1 power of thrilling and fascinating. , him. Presently,. Denvers laid his arm, on -the "back of, the. -seat, and, at the girl intently'; he. said : "' Dtf you" believe in- love at first sight, : ~Miss Clarke ?!r- - . "'-.- Silvia was not in the least -taken -aback at the strange abruptness of her "question "from a comparative stranger, and mused for a-- while,, collecting her thoughts. • <'•*.-. ~~ ~ ' .' Curiously enough,' she answered, -presently, ' 1 my- . self was. wondering whether such a thing really" exists: when, you asked the question.' She turned her wellpoised head with its- wealth of hair towards -him. and looked him full in the face. It was Captain Denvers' * turn to be (surprised, and yet that there was not one iota of arriere pensee in the giiL'sj. mind ' was obvious by' her perfectly natural way oE 4 ~ expressing herself. 'I will tell you why . I wondered,'; she continued: -' I have a story to write to-night, and., am - rather fluctuating between two plots. The one embodies the idea s that a girl Joves the- man who is engaged : to'- her sister,' and that he, although he, - too, has- ceased to care for his fiancee, is too much of a moral- coward .to confess to -both girls; anil the .other— well, " the' story of a wonderful reciprocity of love "at first sight. Now, such * suggestion, do .you .prefer *? .I. don't-, belieye -I- could make a hero out< of a coward, r A~ man^niust be noble, honorable, straight, reliable— in fact," everything that is upholding good and worthy of reverence iri' a woman's ey,es.' These confidences were spoken in a low voice, broken by swift catching .of .the breath, with her hands characteristically clasped"- across her bosom— "it was a .way of hers in moments of iutentness— and. an eagerness of purpose which was augmented by the subject of their discussion. - - - - 'I like the suggestion of Jove at first sight,'" said John; letting his eyes feast upon the idealistic -face, - ' and I do honestly believe that it exists. Come, -will you let me help you with your 'story? Let us put our • heads together, methopharically ..speaking, and see what- we can concoct.' - ' Will you really?' -The girl- flushed, and her eyes - shone mysteriously. x ' You" are very • kind, considering * ,we have only just met.' ' •- 'Don't say that, Miss. -Clarke. I -feel as if I had known you a lifetime. The ,moments' .have been -weeks, the hours years. You interest "me. Your work, your life, your pluck, everything about you"' appeals- 'to me tremendously, and make me wish— you'll think me mad „ for like this— that I were not going away, or, that, at least, I were not leaving to-morrow. ' ■~ 4^ -. -. ; Tormprrow.?' echoed Silvia vaguely. « I too, wish .. that . you" -could stay.' ' * ~ . 'Do you.?' cried John, clasping her trembling hand ' ."in- his, but only for a' moment, for the girl withdrew it; and turned away. • Ah, --.forgive me.; I have .offended- -you. 1 have no -right to speak like' this, and .you have 'every reason to ,be vexed.' . The, tender face, with uplifted brow, v was full of • forgiveness as ' she turned to him again. .The deep shadows -of the rustling vine leaves played over them, and the moonlight- filtered gently through the "tendrils of • - her dark warm hair as she held -out "her-. hand in gen--tie remission. „ ~ „ - - "There "is nothing. to forgive,'! she "said", "almost in a whisper, 'and I'm sorry . you going away.' She spoke her words with great simplicity, while John Denvers pressed her fingers to his" lips and then released them. - Then Silvia started up from her reverie and came • back with a rebound to the matter-of-fact realities of the situation. 'It is getting ..late,' she said, almost regretfully, looking down upon John. He was very .handsome. - The magnificently bronzed face, with a- slight curving moustache of brown hue; which softened without hid- ' ing the fine mouth beneath, aiid the strong, dark V. glance, which embodies a look of splendid resolve/took her fancy. ' I. like him," but 'he is goiiig away,' is what she thought. 'But still I shall remember that he kissod my hand and told me he wished we had met before. No matter what happens, nothing can rob us of thissecret night, these few happy moments spent in absolute harmony and sympathy together.' ' Don't go yet,' he pleaded anxiously. 'There is still our story to finish,' he added, • and you know we agreed to compose- it together.' - .^ . 'It is not yet begun,' the girl, answered with a tender smile ; ' but I think now that 1 know how it will end.' Then a new firmness of manner took possession of her, and she said with • Wil^ you take me back to the house, Captain Denvers ? I must go. Remember, I have- a long task before me • and— it is getting late.'

Reluctantly John. Denvers wrapped the shawl tighter round the girl's shoulders, and then slowly they walk-ed-towards the' house. ' ' One thing you must promise me,' . said John as - they approached the illuminated hall, ' that .you will send me the magazine containing your story. Will you?' 1 If - you really wish it, 1 shall,' said Silvia. 'But you will have forgotten that I ever wrote- it long"be- ' fore it reaches you.' -- . ' Ah, don't say that,' said John, turning with "earnest supplication in his eyes. '1 shall never fotfget ' •you— or our story. It was pleasant to hear him say ' our story.' To Silvia it seemed as though at least one undeniable .. fact formed a tiny bond between them. 1 Where shall I send it ? ' she asked presently, and then John wrote on a card, ' The Orient Club,"-Cal-cutta.' Once they had entered the house there was no further reason for delay, and Silvia, having informed Mrs. Dewbury that her aunt- was sitting up for her, and that she was obliged to hurry home, she enveloped, her head in a> lace mantilla and -hurried down-stairs. In the hall John Denvers stood waiting to say good-night and— good-bye. She placed her >and in his and let her eyes rest on his face. It was to be a long goad-bye — a good--bye like the story,- thai had hardly had a beginning, and yet the hands were, firmly clasped- and the two. faces bore an,, intense look of tender long-ing. Denvers pressed his lips tightly" together, and Silvia agitatedly drew her cloak closer to her. The cab stood at the door, and Silvia tore herself away. ' You'll not forget ? ' he called to her, straining to' catch a last glimpse -of her face, and she answered back, with trembling lips, 'No ; you shall read • our story. Good-bye.' That night in her lonely little room, Silvia Oarke . wrote the story of her first and only love. It was the simplest little plot imaginable. Her heroine "was called Sophia, and her hero James. It was the old,~ old story of love at first sight, while the lovers had to part and pass their lives in vain regret and longing for that which could not be.But Silvia broke her word to Captain Denvers. When, after some weeks, the ' Fen wick Magazine ' appeared containing her story, and she read" it through for the first time in print, she was horrified at its realism, and almost regretted having written it. ' What would he think, after the J,apse of time, were I to send it to him now ? It would be impossible. I can't. That night he may have fancied that he liked me, but now he has probably forgotten my name. We must let our little story die its natural death; thatniemoiy is just a passing gleam of sunshine in my- gloomy Lfe.' But Jolin Denvers had not forgotten Silvia's name, or even the slightest detail about her personality. He had stolen a photograph of , Silviarfrom Mrs. Dewbury 's drawing-room mantelpiece with a sang-froid that defied competition, and he had pored over it every day since he had met and left her, until her face had becomeengraven on the tablet' of his mind. He remembered^ . everything — her sweet, perfect figure, her general deli^ cacy and refinement of manner; and, above all, what.^ . charmed him most; her incomparable naturalness in- - saying things which, coining from the lips of any other .i woman, would sound inharmonious, impossible. ' Oh, "^ ' Silvia, what a havoc you have wrought in this poor . mortal's brain,' 'he said often to himself, and, 'Child, I am coming back to fetch you, never fear ; there is only one woman in God's world for me, and she is Silvia Clarke ! ' John Denvers had written to Mrs. Dewbury after his return to India, begging her to keep him - au courant as to all home news, at the same time asking her to look out for the ' Fenwick Magazine ' containing Silvia's story. He feared that she,- .woman-like, mightfeel reluctant to send it at the last moment, so in order to be on the safe side he begged Mrs. Dewbury to forward it to him, at the same time asking her not to let Silvia know of his request. He somehow felt, that a great deal depended 'on that little story, and he awaited • its arrival with feverish impatience. The' 'Fenwick Magazine' was brought to John Den--vers one mail day just as he was sitting -down to tiffin in his bungalow at Calcutta. - • The simple, unaffected style of the girl's narrative, told tenderly and romantically, went straight to his heart. The blood rushed to his brain .as he realised how she had taken • her plot word for word from j their own slender romance ; how she had even named J her hero and heroine after their own initials, and how the thread of the story, faithfully followed its lead' up' to the time of John Denvers' departure for India. John was crazy with joy when he had^ read " the "■ story. ■ • She meant it for me, and has loved me ever

since I left her.' He cried gladly,' c Oh, my sweet, 'brave -darling, you were not ashamed -to take' the theme of our story. But why didn't ,you send it- to me, as you promised to do ? ' And then;- a sudden fear beset him. ' Perhaps, since the writing of that story, she had fallen in love with some one else. Great heavens.! how am 1 to' know— to find out the truth ? I can't remain in suspense' ~f or i weelfs ; 'I" must know > ;at once.' Off he rushed to the telegraph office and wrote out a cable addressed to - ' Olarkey care ■ Dewbury, London.' The message was laconic^ but to the point. • Have just- read - : story. ..Did you mean me, Silvia? If so, will you come out "and 'marry ' me at once ? Wire. — John..* ' ' Silvia was at her writing table .thinking out some new plots when, several hours ' afterwards, Mrs. Dewbury rushed-; into the room, arid thrust "the telegram into her hand. " " • • . ', There ! What do you say to" that"? ' cried "Mrs. Dewbury triumphantly and in high " glee. - ' Silvia, flushing to the ""roots of her hair, hid her face in the "motherly- breast of -her friend 'and~ -slied thankful," happy tears. 'I can't believe it, after only one meeting,' she said between her ecstatic sobs. ' Does 'he really . mean ■ it ? ' ~ ' Well, what do you -suppose ? ' answered Mrs. D_ewbury. • You simpleton, do you- think he would have cabled if he hadn't been seiious ? But don't lose a .moment in -answering, because ypu^jmay -be sure he --is in a pretty- fume of excitement?''' : - ' ' What shall I say ? ' said Silvia, sitting bolt upright, and looking perplexed. - ' 'Why, simply say, "Yes, I'm^'coming. Love—Silvia."' said Mrs. Dewbury in a- matter-of-fact 'tone. 'And now put that , blessed writing" away. • It 'has served its purpose, anyway ; "but now you:won J t need to do another stroke, and "if I were you I would turn my . attention to" my wardrobe.' " - "" - - 'And so .the writing was put aside "for' a new life, a new world, a new kingdom, of "which John' Delivers was to be the supieme ruler, and Silvia Clarke, happy, • radiant, and almost intoxicated with her new-found joy, prepared to go and join her future husband at Calcutta.— ' Catholic Home. Journal..'- - '""".' r~""