THE FORTY SOVEREIGNS

New Zealand Tablet, 12 September 1912, Page 9

THE FORTY SOVEREIGNS

Annie Merton came in tired and cold from her daily work of giving music lessons, and ascended the stair that led to her rooms in Maycourt street, Bayswater, London. She wondered if the good-natured, but overworked Irish servant would have kindled a fire. If so, she would sit over it for the entire evening and read the book she had taken from the library. Yes, a bright fire burned merrily in the diminutive grate, a gypsy table was laid for tea, and a pair of comfortable slippers reposed in the fender. - Nora had not forgotten ! Half of Annie’s weariness melted away. What a wonderful amount of cheerfulness and restfulness there is in a fire ! Then came the sound of Nora’s patient feet ascending the stairs. Annie’s face brightened as the girl came in bearing a tray; ‘ How good of you, Nora, to light the fire!’ Annie said with the look and smile that had won Nora’s heart. Annie held out her chill cold hands to the blaze. A. fire on such a day is perfectly delightful. I shall toast myself over it and read Bather Benson's latest book.’ ■ > ■ Nora laid down the tray without speaking. Then she said : . ■ Mrs. Murphy was here inquiring for you about an hour ago. She looked as if she was in trouble. She said she would come back about five.’ \ 'V ‘Mrs. Murphy in trouble!’ Annie said. ‘ You know she was our cook before she married,- Nora. I wonder what is amiss. Alice is married and doing well in America, and her only son Ned is in a very good situation in London.’ Nora, shook her head. The worries of parents with their children always comfortably confirmed her in her own state of spinsterhood. ‘ Children are great trials, old or young,’ she remarked. V ‘ Oh, perhaps Mrs. Murphy only wishes to have a letter written to Alice,’ Annie said. * Send her up when she comes.’ . Annie had finished her tea and was enjoying her cushioned basketchair and the warmth of the fire when Mrs. Murphy appeared. It was quite by accident that the girl and her former nurse and encountered each other in London. Pat Murphy had died of consumption some years after his marriage, to Bridget Hagan, and Bridget had turned to letting apartments as a means of living. In the old days, before Annie Merton's father had taken to dealing in stocks and shares, Bridget had received a good domestic training. She could accomplish wonders in the kitchen. She was also perfectly honest and warm hearted, and possessed those particular virtues which make a landlady a success.* Just before five she came. She was a small woman with an abundance of ruddy brown hair that refused to turn gray, and a face like a wrinkled winter apple. She burst into tears as Annie drew forward a chair to the fire and proceeded to make a cup of tea.

‘ I couldn’t swallow a drop of tea,’ Mrs. Murphy protested. ‘ Sure ’tis broken hearted lam entirely.’ ‘Of course you can drink the tea,’ Annie said firmly. An hour ago I thought I hated tea, and yet I have taken two cupfuls and I feel the better for it. No, I won’t listen to your story till you drink the tea, Bridget.’ Mrs. Murphy drained the cup. ‘ Oh, Miss Annie, time brings changes! Little did I think to see you in a place like this and earning your own living! Oh, - oh, but we were the happy ones at Brookfield—and didn’t know it!’ ‘ Have you heard from Alice Annie asked, though she knew from experience that Mrs. Murphy would only tell her tale in her own particular fashion. ‘ Oh, Alice is all right with her husband and child; Sure what trouble can a child of three give Alice? ’Tis later the trouble comes.’

' . ‘Then it is Ned?’ Annie said, interrogatively. •; And we so proud of him,’ Mrs. Murphy admitted. ‘Maybe, God knows, too proud. Sure he took in the learning like anything, and got the situation in the bank by his' own cleverness entirely.’ ‘ I know.’ Annie had often heard how Ned Murphy had obtained the position ’of clerk in Marchant’s Bank at a competitive exarnination. ‘ And now,’ Mrs. Murphy threw out her hands widely, he’s a thief, a common thief!’ ‘ Nonsense,’ Annie remarked.

‘But he is,’ Mrs. Murphy produced a handful of sovereigns from her pocket, ‘ Look! I found them in his drawer ! ’ .

‘ Perhaps Ned has been saving up. Perhaps he is thinking of marriage.’- ‘ That’s it,’ Mrs. Murphy assented emphatically, ‘ that’s it. Sure, he must go and see Miss Kate Early every night.. And the boxes of chocolates he buys and the time he takes dressing ! I used to be able to iron his collars and cuffs, but now they must go to the laundry, if you please.’ ‘But why do you think Ned stole the money?’ Didn't I hear him and young Nolan, that’s another clerk in the bank, talking last night?’ Mrs. Murphy was definite at length. ‘ There was a deficiency of forty pounds yesterday/ she produced in a whisper, ‘ and there is going to be an inquiry into the matter to-morrow. And Ned had forty sovereigns that he had ho right to have. I asked him did he know anything of the missing money, and he said he did.’ ‘ I can’t believe Ned took the money.’ Mrs. Murphy ignored the observation, ‘ What I want you to do, Miss Annie, is to take this money to • the manager who is also the junior partner. He lives at Hampstead. See, here's the address, Oaklawn. Tell him it was the son of a poor widow that was tempted to take it because he wished to have a home and wife.’

‘Me Annie was startled into the objective. ‘Oh, yes/ Mrs. Murphy said imploringly, ‘you can speak to a gentleman as he ought to be spoken to, which I can’t. And any one would guess I was Ned’s mother anyhow. We’re just alike, the two of us.’ • '

Oh, dear! Annie said, but she had long ago learned to respect Bridget’s wishes and the habit was telling. Besides she wished to save Ned from the consequences of his folly or crime. r I suppose I had better go at once,’ she said presently. ‘ltis a long way to Hampstead.’ ‘ You’ll take a taxi cab/ Mrs. Murphy said, ‘ and I’ll pay the fare.’

Annie was drawing on the coat which she , had cast * off on a chair, and Mrs v Murphy secured the sovereigns in a pocket handkerchief and thrust them into a hand-bag. . * ■ ■ ‘Oh, God bless you, Miss Annie; God bless you!’ she led. You have taken a load off my heart.’ The junior partner of Marchant’s Banking Company was descending the wide stairs of Oaklawn preparatory to entering the dining-room when there came a loud insistent ring at the door. John Probyn paused on the last step. He was a bachelor and had no relatives, and his callers out of office hours were few. I wonder who that is,’ he said and then .moved toward the outer door and threw it 'open; A lady entered unhesitatingly. . .... J ni , to 866 J 4 / she began, and stopped. She did not know the name of the junior partner. ‘ I mean the manager of Marchant’s Bank.’ < n l n . l f ! 1 Said M - r " Prob * Miss : Merton !’ O-h ! Annie gasped. ‘I did not know. I did not suppose The two stood staring at each other and both thought of their last meeting. It had taken place in the hall of the country house near Brookfield in the days when Mr. Merton was thought 'to be a wealthy man and Annie was looked upon as an heiress John Probyn had ventured to remark and condemn the frequency with which Annie had danced with a tam officer, and Annie had answered that it wasn’t necessary / he should approve. The two young people had parted in anger. John had soon afte?

gone to an office in London to ruminate on the fickleness and inconsistency of woman, and Annie had later enough to occupy her. When John Probyn next visited that neighborhood, Mr. Merton was dead, his t, property was in the hands of his creditors, and Annie' iiad disappeared. ‘I have come,’ Annie said at length, ‘ on a business matter. There has been some money missing from the bank.’ ‘ Won’t you come in here?’ John threw open the dining-room door absently, just as a maid servant came leisurely up the kitchen steps, then retreated precipi*. tately to inform her fellow servants that there was a - lady in the dining-room. / Annie produced the pocket handkerchief and the sovereigns, and began to explain. Mr. Probyn interrupted. , . ‘ Oh, that’s all right,’ he said. ‘ Yes, there was a sum of money missing; but one of the clerks, Edward Murphy, gave me a hint as to the person who took them. His name was Nolan. He had been gambling a bit, but he gave Murphy the money back. Oh, 't is all right. There shall be neither prosecution nor in-; quiry, and Nolan shall stop backing horses. Murphy', has the forty pounds in safe keeping.’ ‘ I’ll never forgive Mrs. Murphy nor myself,’ Annie :- told herself wrathfully, as she returned to Maycourk street. What an utter idiot John Probyn must think., me.’ . . But John Probyn was at that time thinking very % different things. He was counting up the number of years that had gone by since he and Annie had parted in anger; and wondering why Annie had remained : unmarried. She answered that question for him a £ few weeks later.

* Why didn’t I marry !’ she said. ‘ Oh, well, you see, John, I was in love with you.’— Magnificat .