HER LAST CHANCE.

New Zealand Tablet, 20 November 1913, Page 7

HER LAST CHANCE.

She did not care for him—she did not even pretend to herself that she did. Only, he represented her last chance. She was forty-one and looked her age; short, and already overtaken by elderly spread, with a face which, in her downright fashion, she pronounced ‘ hideous.’ Even her friendsand there was scarcely one in the neighborhood to whom at one time or another she had not done some kindness, would have described her as decidedly plain. With the exception of her employer, whom she had served faithfully and indefatigably for fifteen years, she had never troubled herself about { a man, yet in a general way she had looked forward to the day when she would have a home as other women had. But time passed and her youth had gone before she put these vague ideas into any certain form. Then — was some child blameless of intent to wound who spoke of her in her own hearing as ‘the old woman at Mr. Blake’s,’ —then, one day she realised that unless the dream of home came to her soon it would never be hers.

Not long after, Michael Dawson took over his aunt’s little shop down at the corner of the street. He was of suitable age and needed s a wife to mind the shop and keep his house, and Margaret Anne’s little savings would give him just the start he needed in his new life. There was no romance in their wooing. It may even have been Margaret herself who first broached the idea to a friend and then in a sensible business way everything was settled between them. It remained only to break the news to Mr. Blake that his model housekeeper, who had kept everything in peace and comfort in his home since his wife’s death, was going to leave him to keep house for a husband of her own. In making her arrangements, Margaret had had no idea how difficult'Would be this giving notice. She decided to wait until some evening when, after the supper that he liked the best, he would be smoking at

ease beside bis fire. But even. once in the room, it was harder than she thought. She found so many little jobs to do, that at last her master, noticing her fidgeting hesitation, took his pipe from his mouth and questioned her himself.

‘ Well, Margaret, what is it? You seem a bit on the slow side to-night.’ • > ‘ Yes, sir,’—but after that she got no further. ‘ Do you want something ? or have you anything to tell me?’ ' ,

‘Yes, sir,’ again. ‘ Good gracious, woman, haven’t you known me long enough to speak out ’straight! What do you mean with, your “Yes, sir ?” Speak out, can’t you, and tell me what it is?’

‘lt’s just that, Mr. Blake, sir; it’s the long time I’ve been with you, ’ stammered Margaret, the blood rising dully in her face till it rolled away under the thick grey hair on her forehead. ‘.Fifteen years or thereabouts,’- said Mr. Blake, leaning back in his chair, his pipe held aloft in his hand.

‘ That’s it, sir, fifteen years and two months, and —and ’ taking the plunge wildly at last, ‘ please, sir, I wish to give my notice.’ ‘What!’

.; It was Mr. Blake’s turn to seek vainly for words. Margaret going to leave him! Impossible! He could not have heard aright. :‘ What’s that you say Leave your place? Why, what crotchet have . you got into your head now, I should like to know

‘ Please, sir, I’m going to get married.’ i-ylt was out at last, and the sound of the words that seemed to crystalise the fact gave her confidence. ‘ I am going to get married,’ she repeated, ‘ to Michael Dawson, who has got old Mrs. Wogan’s shop.’ But it needed more than that to make the fact of her approaching departure penetrate her master’s brain. And even when he thoroughly grasped the reason, it was his loss not her gain that occupied him. It was most inconsideratethat was his first impression, and just now especially when he had had so much trouble in the office and was still uncertain whether the new clerk would suit the work or not. Then, by degrees, for he was a kind-hearted man, though selfish from having had no one to consider for so long—by degrees, Margaret’s aspect of the case began to dawn upon him. It was but natural that she should wish to have a home of her own; but whether she was wise to accept this man of; whose antecedents little seemed to be known, remained to be seen. At all events, he would have a wife who was a housekeeper beyond compare. ‘ Mr Blake, at Margaret’s request, had latterly kept back part of each year’s wages. Now this little accumulation must needs be forthcoming to provide her wedding dower. The money had, of course, been mentioned in the making of the match, and it had been decided that a part of it should go to renovating the house whilst the remainder would help in developing the business. This meant that Margaret Anne must have the money before the wedding day, so a week after her , announcement Mr. Blake brought her home an envelope containing in addition to the ninety odd pounds of her savings enough to make a clear hundred, as his wedding gift to her. . Her master cut short Margaret’s eager words of thanks, for there had been trouble in the office, and he was to go back after supper to try to clear up the tangle that the new clerk seemed powerless to cope with.. He waited only for Margaret to draw out the two notes, dirty and crumbled but .value for a hundred pounds, and sign a formal receipt for her money. Then, when she went down to her kitchen to wait for Michael, he returned to the office, to go over the accounts that apparently showed a deficit of fifty pounds. The payment of an outstanding bill of five times that amount had not only produced the ready money for .Margaret’s fortune, but wherewith also to pay several creditors for similar amounts. But Redmund Wall, the clerk who had received the money and conveyed It to his .employer, was now unable to account

for one of the notes he had received. Two he had changed and paid out. The other three he declared he had left on Mr. Blake’s own desk, but— therein lay the fact that Held suspicionhe had not kept the numbers of any of them. It would be impossible, therefore, to trace the lost one, for-it was ascertained that the man who had previously owned them had destroyed his record of them once Mr. Blake’s receipt was in his possession.

It was at the time of his wife’s death that Redmund Wall lost the situation, that he had held for years, and months had passed before he was able to obtain employment again. Her long illness and the many weeks of idleness that followed had not only used up every penny of his savings, but had plunged him into debt. Just when rigid economy had brought him in sight of starting afresh again, a change in the firm where he was employed set him once more adrift. This time Mr. Blake had . engaged 'him almost immediately, but now he knew that his disgrace 'would be the greatest satisfaction to the clerk who had hoped to be promoted into the place he had been given. And he knew absolutely nothing of the note beyond what he had told Mr. Blake. He was certain that he had laid all three upon the desk, and had seen his employer put his, heavy paper-weight upon them. After that .he had thought no more about them. His mind was occupied with other things and this' preoccupation had been the reason of his real fault, that of not taking the number of the notes. °

During his wife’s lifetime their children had been well brought up and well cared for. Since her death they had been neglected, and what to do with them was a heavy problem. The girl whom he had hoped to see grow up to resemble her mother was becoming wild and rough the boy, following his sister’s example, was rude and independent the youngest, a little lad of five, was so frail that the landlady, kindly though busy, shook her head over him and spoke of early graves. ■ Pressing upon his anxiety in regard to his children came the trouble about the missing note. This threatened to bring upon him overwhelming misfortune. Mr. Blake was unwilling to suspect him of dishonesty. After examining the books to see that the sum was really missing, he bade him go and search through his papers again while he went over the contents of his own desk a second time. But Redmund Wall had been present during the first search and he feared there was no more hope for him in one desk than in the other.. The fate of the note was an Impenetrable mystery and if it remained so—• Alone in the office he bent his . head upon his outstretched arms and thought for one moment of this possibility. If he were arrested for this theft—of which he was absolutely innocent yet which he could do nothing to disprove would become of him, and what, oh ! what of his friendless children ?’ ;

But lie put away the thought. God would not allow this awful calamity to come upon them. He had never lost the confidence in prayer that a good home training had taught him, and now, instead.: of looking where he knew the note was not, he closed his eyes and begged with all the fervor of his heart that the Mother of Sorrows would intercede for her sorrowful client and , obtain for him the solution of the mystery. .:". As he prayed the footsteps of the passers-by seemed to beat out the words of his prayer, till all at once he realised that a tread upon the stairs had broken on the rhythm. It passed the office and then paused at the door of Mr. Blake's room. He heard a knock, ar answer, then the door was opened and closed, and th<* was silence. But only for a moment. The office rang sharply and with a sudden certainty tb w prayer was answered he obeyed quickly, and r Mr. Blake's own room. . '*sF His employer was seated at his desk h jflP^hand the note that had been lost, and h r ,;'nis a woman, middle-aged, short and st .stood ' grey hair pushed back from her f f (W heavy, swelled, her face flushed from wer fher eyes j 'Mr. Wall, you were per'' ff t ~ " ' ''. '/'

jfo,' said M?yi

Blake. ‘ I apologise to you for my mistake. I took the notes, two as I thought, to pay my housekeeper a sum that was due to her. They were dirty and damp, and the pressure of my letter-weight must have stuck two of them so closely together that neither I, putting them' in the envelope, nor she, taking them out, saw what had happened.’ V But Redmund Wall did not heed any more. He was free, proved innocent, our Lady had repaid his trust in her intercession, as she had so often done before. ■ On his way home, he passed the still open chapel and, kneeling in the gathering dusk, he repeated his thanks and added a prayer for help in his other trouble. He begged that our Lady would be a mother to his motherless children and teach him how to train and rear them well. It was only next day that he began to wonder how the note had actually been found. On thinking it over then, he remembered that he had said no word of thanks to the woman who had justified him before the world.

Mr. Blake had asked for full particulars. With tears Margaret told her story. Michael Dawson had been overjoyed at the sight of the hundred pounds, and sitting by the fire, he had planned the laying out of every penny of it, feeling and fingering the dirty crumpled notes. Then, curling back from the heat, the edge of a third became unfastened, and peeling it gently, he held it up before Margaret’s eyes:’ '. The news of the lost money had transpired as such things will, and with it the undisguised satisfaction of him who hoped to secure promotion in the downfall of the newcomer. Dawson had heard this, and knew that no suspicion could fall upon the finder of the note so long as its number remained unknown. His life had been a rough _ one, and his standard of morality was not that of his affianced wife. At first Margaret had not understood his suggestion that they should keep the money which had come thus into their hands. But when it dawned upon her that he thought she. would be a party to a theft, she told him without mercy what she thought of him. Snatching back the notes, not two now but three, she turned him from the house, thanking God for having saved her from marrying a would-be thief. Vainly he protested that he spoke in jest. She was not deceived, and he had to go. Only afterwards, when she was left alone, tears of self-pity came in torrents. With Michael, in all probability, went her last chance of a home of her own. All her daydreams of the weeks gone by were swept away. She was an old maid, ugly and lonely, but at least, thank God, she was honest and faithful to her master. And thinking of him she remembered that he was looking for the note that she held in her hand and, without even waiting to put on her bonnet, she had gone out and down the street to the office.

It was hard to settle down again to the old routine. The thought of her long years of lonely evenings came to Margaret with a sharp pang. She wiped away her tears when a knock sounded at the kitchen door, and to her surprise, on opening it, she met the clerk whom Mr. Blake had summoned to his office to learn of the recovery of the note. • ‘I have come,’ he said, baring his head as he spoke, ‘ to ask you to forgive me for not having thanked you last night for so quickly returning the note that was lost. I am afraid, too,’ he added with a glance at her tear-stained face, ‘ that I am not the only person to whom this loss has been a trouble.’ His voice was kind, and there was in it a note of sadness that touched a seldom used chord in Margaret’s heart. She did not often speak of herself and especially not to strangers, but a sudden wish for sympathy came over her, and at the same time a feeling of pride impelled her to speak. She did not know what Mr. Blake might have said about her broken engagement, and she did not wish even this stranger to think that her tears were shed for the loss of a would-be thief.

‘ Indeed, it is not, trouble that the finding 'has brought me,’ she said. ‘ Only this minute I was going to thank the Mother of God for showing me his real character before I was married and bound to him, honest or a thief.’

His eyes followed hers as she spoke, across the snotless kitchen to where an old brown rosary hung beside the hearth. The details of comfort and cleanliness were not lost upon him as he contrasted’ the kitchen before him and the comfortless room that was his home.

‘I am glad to .hear what you say,’ he returned, but as I know nothing about the finding of the note you will excuse my thinking your—trouble might have come from it.’

‘Well, it did, and it didn’t,’ said Margaret. ‘You see I was going to get married —and now I’m not. But it was only the loss of the home that fretted me. I was a bit downhearted and lonely, but still I thank God for it all the. same.’

He had said his say, and now there was nothing to keep him, but in turning he caught the sleeve of his worn coat in the latch of the door and rent it away in a great hanging tear. That such an accident should have happened at her own door filled Margaret with dismay. In a moment the owner of the coat was seated by the fire, and she was busied by him with thread and needle. . f :

It was a job that called for care. As she worked they talked and she learned his anxieties about his children, their names and ages and the personal traits of each one’s character. ;

He told of the sorrow it was to him to think of the girl in the streets when school was over, and of the care that little Bertie needed. Margaret’s offer that May should come and learn from her the elements of housekeeping was natural after the things she heard. And even after the coat was mended he went on telling, and she listened eagerly to all that he had to say. He would not have believed that Margaret was ugly. To him she was the embodiment of kindness and good sense, and the rosary on the wall was proof,, had proof been needed, that his girl was safe to learn in the right way from this kindly woman. Later when he had. grown accustomed to seeing her with Bertie’s arms about her heck and May important and happy learning to cook or to sew, and even Harry, so rude and rough in the street, also learning, though unconsciously, lessons of politeness and consideration in the kichetn where, with Mr. Blake’s amused toleration, they were always welcome—then he began to wonder if it would not be for the happiness of all if he offered her another home in place of that which through the losing of the note she had missed. Sometimes when he came to fetch the children home he used to find them joining with Margaret in the rosary, and it was on one of these nights that she gave him the opening he was seeking. ‘ Hasn’t the Mother of God done better for me in sending me these children,’ she said, ‘ than I had thought to do for myself?’ ‘ And for the children, too, has she not don© well,’ he replied. ‘l'think,’ and he smiled, ‘that since you are so kind, it is I who have come off the worst of all.’

■Then she knew what he was going to say even before he asked her if she would make a home for his children and himself. It was a dream of happiness such as she had never looked to have before, but at first she Avould not hear of his marrying such as she. Only when he bade the children add their plea to his he saw that the resolution of her ‘ nay ’ was beginning to fail.

‘ Won’t you come to me, Margaret,’ he urged. ‘ I’ve prayed so long for a mother for the children that I can’t but think our Lady has brought us together,’ and again he smiled, for now he knew the whole story of her broken engagement. . ‘ And you are not going to refuse us both our last chance?’ And put like that she could only’give the answer that he wished, giving all, her love, her labor, and her life, and receiving in return what her empty heart had craved to have, the happiest, most blessed thing on earth—a really happy home.— Magnificat.