A Complete Story

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LI, Issue 3, 17 January 1924, Page 11

A Complete Story

The Price (Anna Cecilia Doyle, in Catholic Progress.) There was a shade of condescension in Lina Gilson’s greeting of her one-time friend and confidant, but Netta Casserley did not let it affect in the least her very apparent pleasure in their accidental meeting. Since the parting of their ways there had come to the one fame and the worldly advantages incident to the career of a popular novelist, to the other only the lesser triumphs of the lowlier worker in the same field. x But for the attainment of her ambition Lina had sacrificed that which was the breath of life to Netta, so there was no envy of the successful one's tasteful elegance in the clear eyes of the plainly clad young toiler. She broke into Lina’s correctly conventional phrases of delight at their meeting with a breathless intensity of expression which elevated the eyebrows of her quondam friend. "I consider it nothing short of a miracle that we should have met like this. I ‘have been thinking of you all morning, wantingindeed praying to see you.” "Praying?” Lina laughed. A shade fell on the brightness of the face before her, but the brave eyes that looked into her cynical ones were reproachful andwas it possible?a bit compassionate. “My prayer has been answered, you see. What made me think of you was this I have been interested for some time in a young girl at the Mercy Rescue Home, and yesterday she told me the story of her life.” . A flush came into Netta’s pale cheeks and she hesitated as if seeking inspiration for her next words, Lina waited, puzzled, distrustful. “It is a story that I would give year* of my life to have you hear. You —you—there is material in it that would be of infinite value to you.” Lina’s rather soulless laugh rang out. "You were always impulsive, Netta, and time has not improved you. But why not utilise this rich find yourself? Why this passionate desire to hand over to one consigned to the inner circle of God-forsaken sinners, this sacred history of a rescued soul? It might prove edifying to some of your pious admirers.” "It is too big for me,” Netta said simply. "You alone could bring to it the genius to comprehend its lights and shades. I hop© with all my .heart that you will not let the opportunity pass.” - Something in Netta’s eyes haunted Lina for hours. It would give her no peace. The strangeness of Netta’a words—“a story that I would give years of my life to have you hear —that would be of infinite value to you”— came between her and her work. She could not read for puzzling over them. Could this terrible earnestness of Utterance be a natural outgrowth of Netta’s school-girl intensity ? - r> ... / • r. To be rid of the irritation of the incident she decided to visit this girl at the Rescue Homeher story, she told herself, would doubtless' prove commonplace enough. She arrived late in the afternoon but, as a friend of Miss Casserley, was admitted. The young woman she sought was in the infirmary. • When Lina looked down at the white face upon the pillow, she as startled at its wonderful beauty. Even before the great eyes opened she knew' that they were very sorrowful. It was indeed Sadness? itself that looked out of their "dark depths. She could see that they had been sweet and bright and ' happy, but they would never

be that again. Tears of repentance had washed awhy the . . bitterness and : the hardness, but death must close them forever before they could regain anything of their lost heritage of joy. c . * Lina murmured an apology for coming at so late an hour, mentioning Netta’s name. “You are a friend of Miss Casserley. A friend of hers is welcome at any hour. She has been very kind to me.” “It would be hard not to be kind to you, you are co very lovely.” The girl s dark brows contracted, a pained expression indicated that the compliment was distasteful. 1 “I am sure that would not make any difference with her, she said slowly. “She found me poor and sick and friendless, she did for me all that a noble woman might do for a little lost sister of her own. But she has done the same thing for many other girls, so it was not because I made any special appeal to her. I have heard such splendid things of her since I’ve been here— you could never get her to tell about herself.” The simplicity and candor of this lovely Agatha Crane appealed to Lina even more than her beauty. She felt moved to emulate piqued a bit, too,' perhaps, by the girl’s praise of Netta. “I cannot let you go on thinking that I am a dear friend of Miss Casseriey’s— had not seen each other for years until this morning. We were constant companions at school and afterwards, until Netta began to disapprove of me.” • “Disapprove of you? What awful thing did you do ■, that gentle Miss Casserley could find bad enough to be ... harsh about? But there —I did not mean to be rude. You must not tell me —” “But I shall. Your interest was quite natural. Netta was very cordial when we met this morning. Perhaps she has found she was wrong and is inclined to be more lenient towards what she once regarded as a capital crime. You see, I wrote a book that was not at all to her liking. I can hear her yet pleading with me not to try to publish it. ■. You would not, have thought her gentle then. When every argument failed to shake her determination not to waste the result of so much thought and labor, she turned on me in a passion. ‘ Suppose it should send souls to hell? she cried. * Are you willing to pay a price like that?’ Silly and absurd, wasn’t it? But I was right not to listen to her that book made my name and fortune.” The sick girl turned her head quickly and looked at her. Lina had seated herself out of range of the gaze which somehow disconcerted her. I think that must be why she mentioned you to me ' yesterday. .. We were talking about books, and I told her that it was a book, an evil, fascinating story, that led to my first false step.” And she told you she knew a woman who wrote that kind of books?” Lina’s laugh was not exactly pleasant. - Oh, no, no! She said only that you were gifted and; very successful and that she would like to have you come and see me. It was kind of you to come— A sudden presentiment, a vague agitation, a something she knew not what, impelled Lina to instant flight. But an incontrollable desire to learn why Netta so wished her to know ~this girl’s history held her. .J‘ Te J me about this book dear Was it very dreadful? She leaned over and straightened the ruffled pillows and lifted Agatha up a little so that she could talk with more ease. ~ It wasn’t dreadful at all — was the cleverness of it. It was full of life and joy—no, not gaiety, and the kind of gaiety that I have found to be just noise, - sounds to drown the cries of anguish that the world must not hear. It told you .-things without quite telling them, and you wondered if you knew them and wanted to know r . more. A laughing sneer ran through it, making all the good safe things seem childish and foolish. There was the sparkle of wine in its brilliant sentences, and its characters did and said such clever and wonderful things under the exhilarating influence of wine that I, who wanted more than anything else to do clever and brilliant, things, began n b i USh i° r m y Prudishness. Oh, perhaps no one else of all the thousands who read that book was so weak and V so easily influenced as I, but for me it opened a door,

and I looked through, timidly at first, but full of curiosity about many things - that it made fascinating and of whose existence -1 had known - nothing until then. I took one step down the shimmering'pathway to see what lay on either side, and hands grasped me and drew me on. And then it was too late. I couldn’t find the way Back. There was nothing for me but, to dance doWn to death on the way my feet had strayed.” : . A hectic flam© burned in either cheek. “Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t have told me! And I shouldn’t have let you.” Lina’s haughty, self-complacent calmness was shaken to the depths. She knew now why she was here. But ■ she must know beyond a doubt. “The name of the book? What was it?” “Birds of Paradise. An innocent name enough, was it not?” A blaze of hot anger against Netta for sending her here dried Lina’s tears as they threatened to fall and betray her. Was she responsible for every weakling who attempted to imitate the characters in her book? Must she employ her talents in depicting only the straight-laced and decorous, deviate not all from the goody-goody subjects that satisfied Netta and her kind? Then her eyes fell upon the spent, form upon the bed, on the white beautiful face where Death’s gray shadow rested and she was ashamed and humbled and afraid. She looked away to hide the . tears that suddenly blinded her, and her eyes fell upon a crucifix showing dimly on the white wall. On the other side, when she turned from that, was the Good Shepherd, a touching picture of the compassionate Christ with His lost lamb in His arms. Oh, why were these things crowding in upon her now? She had put them away with the old times. They were simple things that had no place in the new sphere she had chosen. She had meant to go back some time—when the world had given her all she wanted; hut the desire had grown fainter and died and left her a worldling utterly. Now she was here like a shaken reed in the midst of these sacred symbols, with, the terrible evidence of her malign power lying before her—her triumphs empty, her pride abased. She felt Agatha’s cold hand on hers. Are you going, Miss Gilson? I am sorry that I made you feel so badly. I never spoke of that to anyone, except to Miss Casserley yesterday. I don’t know what made me. I was thinking just now what a power for good a book might be, since one can be such an influence for evil. I am sure your stories are like that, helpful and good and uplifting.” With a strangled sob Lina sank to her knees. My. dear, oh, my dear, will you try to forgive me? They are not good—they are like that first oneall of them.” “You mean—you cannot mean you wrote the Birds of Paradise ' Lina bowed her head miserably. To her dying day she never forgot the look on the girl’s face. “May the good God forgive you!” she said softly after a while. She lay with closed eyes and Lina thought she would not speak to her again and got up to go away. But the wide, tired eyes opened and smiled at her, and Lina’s heart was wrung for the quenching glory of them. I think I could die happy if you would promise me never to write ; a book like that again. Will you promise me? Is it asking too much?” f XT “I do promise you! And I will do all I can to help Netta undo the harm that has been done atone for it by helping in her brave work.” And Lina, who a few short hours , before had been self-satisfied, proud of many things, was grateful for noth* mg so much as for the kiss of forgiveness from a humble, repentant sinner. ; ’