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New Zealand Tablet, 21 March 1912, Page 5

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'What! You at Mass this morning? Didn't you go to the dance last night?' v 'Go? Of course, I went; had a simply elegant time, too. I'm so sorry you were not there, girlie.' 'l'm sorry you were there, Margaret.- Isn't it cold this morning?' \ ;. 'Bitter I don't know how I got myself oat of bed. x Mamma will give me fits for getting up; she always expects me to stay in bed half a day after a dance. But I thought I must go to Mass anyway, even

if . I did have to miss my First Friday Communion. But wasn't the sky glorious, Eleanor ? Crossing the bridge, I looked up the river, and there was the faintest pink flush in the east, dashed with long, bright streaks, and the ice was the prettiest lavender, really lavender, reflected from the sky. And those pearly terraces and icicles at the waterfall are just beautiful. Why don't we get up early often, Eleanor, just to see the sunrise ? It is so lovely.' , . . \ . 'Dear.Margaret,' said her friend, tolerantly, 'you are a beauty worshipper. I was too cold to look right or left. I believe you would not hesitate to spend your last nickel for a hyacinth to feed your soul, even if your body was starving.' 'I doubt that,' rejoined the other, laughing.. My thoughts are apt to soar no higher than the dinnertable when I am hungry. But I do love beauty,' she added solemnly, a wistfulness in her eye, ' and, Eleanor, last night it was simply divine—the lights, the holly and mistletoe,- the green and white fuzzy decorations, the sweetest music coming from behind the palms'— her voice had become meditative—' and the last waltz—my heart felt somehow as it never did before. I think I think, Eleanor, that heaven must be something like last night.' 'How foolish, Margaret, and not very reverent, either! Perhaps some who had no difficulty in getting cards for last night won't find it so easy to get a passport to heaven.' 'Judge not!' warned Margaret. 'How do you know what any of those people are at heart ? Do you give no credit at all to Protestants ,' I was not thinking of creed when I spoke,' replied Eleanor, quietly. ' You are not the only Catholic who was there last night. But you know as well ass I do, Margaret, that the set you mingle with lately has a more elastic code than we are accustomed to. It's only reasonable to fear that you cannot long remain uncontaminated. And I think it very wrong of you to continue to encourage Mr. Barnes.' ' You are so narrow, Eleanor, so very narrow. Just because Philip Barnes is not of our faith you condemn him. ' My opposition to him is not solely on the basis of religion, Margaret, although that should be reason enough. You know, as well as I do, the evils of mixed marriages. Even if he were a Protestant it would not be so bad; but he's a bragging atheist! And, leaving the question of religion out of it altogether, he does not compare with Dr. Daniels as a man.' 'Oh, do leave him out of the discussion, please cried Margaret, almost angrily. ' You will plead for Dr. Daniels. I told you that I should never marry him, never. I told him so, too; and when he answered that it ever I changed my mind all I have to do is send for him, I told Dr. Daniels that if ever I did humiliate myself to the degree of sending for him for any purpose whatever, why he could take advantage of it and marry me; but we both knew that . I never would do that,. and I never will!' 'Don't brag,' warned Eleanor. None of us know what we may do before we die.' ' Well, I'd die sooner than do that, you may be But about last night, why, there was no harm in going, Eleanor dear. I had a perfectly dazzling time Everything in the past is tame compared with the joy of last night!' «*, J J m ■. Last night! Last night repeated Eleanor, smiling indulgently into her friend's bright face. 'Did anything extraordinary or wonderful happen last night, tliat it should make such an impression upon you I here was a searching, teasing glance in Eleanor's face. ;f> WellII—» she stammered. t ' Never mind, dear,' soothed Eleanor. 'I can't help having my suspicions, but— never can tell. However, let s forget about your affairs for a moment in the interest of my own. I've chosen to-day to tell vou because nVis the First Friday that we've been so faith! mi to. lve decided to enter the convent, and will be leaving you in a few weeks.' . ■■ _ . Margaret, in her surprise, stood stock still, while the wind blew her hair and veil and skirts into all kinds of tangles. ' ■

« 'Eleanor Burke!', she exclaimed. 'The -convent So soon Why, we're out of school only a couple of years.' 'Even so/ was Eleanor's calm answer. ' Why not V I,' 'C:i..' ~-', V ;\ ,/'".'■■ ■' •■ ]:-}p U - %0 ' I shall be desolate,' said Margaret, slowly. ' Oh, no,' replied Eleanor. ' There are many to supply my place. You have not been with me at all lately, yet you're not very desolate. But it's just as well; the weaning will be easier.' Margaret felt the sting of her dear friend's reproach. 'I confess,' she answered, that I have neglected you since I have been going into society, so much. But you must believe me, dear, for you know it is true, when I say that on one can ever take your exact place in relation to me.' ■ ;..-•■- ' I do believe that, Margaret, although circumstances have taken us different paths since schooldays; and now it seems to me our ways are to diverge even more.' " ' * *;■■■'■■ : ' More eve#> than you think,' said Margaret pensively. 'ln. return for your confidence, here is mine I am betrothed to Philip Barnes since last night.' In spite of the balm Margaret Devon offered her conscience in regard to this engagement, the girl was much troubled; but she would not admit it, especially to Eleanor, who tried hard to swerve her from the marriage. Margaret knew that her missing that First Friday Communion was on account of Philip Barnes and the dance; she knew that she remained away from Holy Hour that evening because it would interfere with Mr. Barnes's plans, and these items bothered her intensely. ' But we are only just engaged,' she told herself. I should not be so mandatory about things at first'... Every thing is sure to come out all right after a while.' But, somehow, whenever it was a question of # a Church engagement or an appointment with Mr. Barnes, Mr. Barnes won, and Margaret kept postponing the time when she should make him understand that her attitude toward the Church and religious affairs must remain unchanged. It was so much easier to drift; and drift she did, just a wee bit farther away each time. Her mother's worldliness encouraged this course; Mr. Barnes was one of the season's ' catches,' and many a girl envied Margaret. The girl's father was too busy making money to notice much what she did; so there was no one to remonstrate but Eleanor, who regretted that, she must leave her friend in such a crisis, but promised to pray for her faithfully. '-, One day, the following autumn, it surprised Margaret to receive a box of flowers, beautiful, soft white chrysanthemums for Mr. Barnes had been out of town on business for some weeks. She found inside, however, a card bearing the name of Edward Daniels and the words: 'ln memory of one other autumn day.' Then the date flashed upon her, and she recalled a happy event a few years back, a glorious tramp on the hills, into the woods, with her schoolboy lover, and his youthful, but earnest, declaration made that golden afternoon, whereby he told her of his hopes and ambitions, in all of which she was concerned, and of which she was the centre and inspiration, of his love, honor, loyalty, and devotion, which were all hers, and were to be hers for ever. It was only a boyish outburst, but the unwavering faith with which his manhood had kept the pledge endowed it with dignity and made his love sacred and his vows a holy trust. . v Before Margaret realised it, she found herself rather longing for the old days and the good comradeship of Ned and Eleanor. But her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a telegram to the effect that Barnes would return that night. This put a different face upon things, and old times were forgotten. She smileda little sadly, thoughat a contrast that stood out inner mind between the two men. How it would amuse Philip to know how near she had been to an alliance with Dr. Daniels! If he scoffed at her having a religious fanatic, ' as he called Eleanor, for a girl friend, how much more would he make fun of 'narrowmindedness and the ' childishness of religion's fairy tales' in a grown man! But, deep down in her heart,

she -was ashamed of herself for being ashamed to defend Ned in Philip's presence; and she found herself wishing, although she hardly acknowledged it, that Philip was more of the type of Ned. Her consolation, blind as usual, was that she would convert Philip after their marriage, and then all would be well. • -: Rousing herself from reverie, Miss Devon made ready to go to an afternoon reception. She tried to tell herself that she was exceedingly happy because Philip was coming that night, but somehow the happiness was forced. Was it— couldn't be—that they were not as enthusiastic about each other's companionship as they used to be ? Did not this telegram prove that he was anxious to see her, and that he knew she must be impatiently waiting for his return? Margaret was loth to relinquish her illusion. During his absence she had taken the opportunity of making a few visits to the Blessed Sacrament. Was it the unwonted meditation that depressed her? Something did,- like an evil omen, but she could not tell what. A late-comer at the reception must have brought along a dainty morsel of gossip with her, for it was devoured eagerly and caused quite a commotion among the butterflies gathered; but it did not come Margaret's way. She caught glances levelled at her. Why were they staring? ,Or did she imagine it? Was her brooding making her sensitive? It became tiresome, and went away alone. Out of that large group of friends there was not one to whom she would dare unburden her soul's afflictions. When leaving the house a whisper reached her, 'I wonder if he will be all devotion now!' Was it meant for her? Had anything happened to Philip? She hurried to her carriage, and on the way home solved the mystery unexpectedly. As the driver slackened to turn the busy corner of Main and North streets, Margaret heard newsboys calling out: 'Daily Press! All about the Devon Company failure!' 'I thought so!' came to her lips involuntarily, as she reflected upon some of her mother's recent extravagances. It has occurred to me several times that the cost of our living has been getting higher every day. This, then, must have been the cause of father's nervous irritability. Poor father ! If he had only let me know! lam old enough now to share his burdens. Well, it could be worse, I suppose.' Yes, it could be worse; and it was, decidedly; for upon reaching the house she heard her mother storming at her father furiously, more anger than grief in her voice, upraidmg him for not looking to the security of his wife and daughter before the creditors got hold of things. 'Mother!' interposed Margaret. 'Don't you see father is ill?' J r Mr. Devon's face was ashen and streaked with lines that his daughter had never noticed before; he seemed benumbed, making no answer to his wife's assault. 'What is the matter, father ? Can't you speak ?' Margaret came close to his side anxiously, and just in time, for he fell heavily into the chair at his side. 'Now we have trouble indeed!' cried the girl casting a reproachful eye at her mother. Send for a doctor! No—wait! Tell Robert to come to me—quick!' Her mother obeyed automatically. ' 'Robert,' said the girl to the coachman, 'go find Dr. Daniels as quick as you can, and drive him here at once. If he isn't in his office, send another' doctor immediately; but hunt the city until you do find him and tell him particularly, Robert, that Miss Margaret —tnat I need him very much, and that he must come at once. . Strangely enough, in the excitement of that night Margaret never. noticed that Philip Barnes did not come Thinking of it next day, she concluded that it must be that he had not arrived. Then she remembered the words she told Robert to use in getting Dr Daniels and wondered why she had done such a thing, she who was betrothed to Philip Barnes. But little heed was given to the matter, for her father's serious illness made an other considerations subordinate, • <-.

Things went on in the house as usual; there was no upsetting, and no one seemed-to thrust before Mrs. Devon and Margaret any disagreeable -financial matters., They did not think it all remarkable; the proper course for a bankrupt's wife and daughter was quite unknown to them, and/they had yet to learn the etiquette of insolvency. It was not until long afterwards they understood that the important factor in smoothing out the rough road for them was the ever-present and everthoughtful Dr. Edward Daniels. --: The meaning of Philip's remaining away began to dawn upon her when Mr. Devon's assured recovery gave Margaret a chance to think about it; then it was pride and not grief that made the truth sting, for those words came back to her, ' I wonder.if he will be all devotion now !' Any feeling she ever had for him was indeed obliterated'. Perhaps it had been nothing deeper than fascination, she admitted to herself, and her attitude toward Ned Daniels she refused to define. Finally, Barnes loomed upon the Devon horizon—letter. . Dear Miss Devon,' he wrote formally, 'I extend you my sympathy in your trouble, and am glad to hear that your father is recovering, due, no doubt, to the devoted attention of his medical adviser, Dr. Daniels. I have remained away, knowing how occupied you must be. You will, I think, agree with me that, owing to the present complex circumstances, our proposed marriage would better be indefinitely postponed.' : % ' Thank God,' was Margaret's comment, ' for delivering me from a coward.' And she sent an immediate answer to Philip Barnes, apprising him of her great relief at being so delivered, and giving it as her opinion that the fortunate awakening was probably the result of the never-ceasing prayers of her ' fanatic' friend, Sister Rose Mary. • ;; "- That dismal -and seemingly interminable winter had at. last passed, and spring saw the Devons fairly well'settled in more modest apartments, Mr. Devon having been able to resume a little of his business. „' There really is no excuse for my calling any longerprofessionally,' remarked Dr. Daniels to Margaret one sunny April morning.

: She gazed out of the window at the newly budded trees to avoid his searching -glance. -■' But I'd like to drop in once in a while still, if you don't mind. You sent for v me, you ; know, and, of course. I have "not forgotten what you agreed that should mean. But I do not wish to take advantage of your doing such a thing simply because of the bewilderment of the:moment.' - 'lt took just such a moment,' she replied slowly,; turning full upon him her thoughtful face, which suffering had made much older, 'to flash a much-needed light upon my dull understanding. '-: I do not know why I did it; I was engaged to Philip Barnes at the time. But when my moment of great need came I forgot his existence y it was you I felt the need of, and you rp sent for.' - ' _ ",'■■:.". • 'And you can never know, Margaret, the joy your message brought me or how glad I was to come. For years I waited and prayed for it I knew the call must come some day. Let's take a tramp through the hills this afternoon, it is so bright and warm. I want to tell you again some things you have forgotten I want to remind you of the ambitions you inspired and show you how some of them have been attained. I want to plan again with you our beautiful life-dream, the golden dream that only you can make come true. Messenger of the Sacred Heart. /« '