HIS WIFE'S WISH.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 3, Issue 259, 24 December 1914, Page 3 (Supplement)

HIS WIFE'S WISH.

A CHRISTMAS STORY.

(Copyright.)

It was three days from Christmas, alia James iiui'Uiey, sut.ng in n.s expensively-! urmsiied oiuce, uas reading til© figures ot we annua* stocK-taiiing, always got out on .December oi .tho great concern lie natl uuilt up in Shipping cotton gooiis lroin Aianelieslei' to liniiu. ana tue rar ivist. lie was just titty; iiis Hair was still black an<i plentuui. ihe grey eyes and tne lines oi his strong lace were a trifle hard — those of a man who Knew Ins purpose and meant to carry it out. It was tn.s quality of hii cflaracter tiiat liad raised aim irom a cierK ui a .Manchester cotton warehouse to tne proprietor of one of the largest businesses in mat wealthy . city. Mis confidential clerk, William lordham, who had advanced with the growth of the wide-reaching business, stood silently by wlnle Haruley's keen ©yes travelled aiong the figures, lordham observed the annoyance which expressed itself in las employer's late. "Down again, l'ordham," rapped out sir," answered the confidential olerk. "Though, twenty-live thousand for a year's proht s is considerable." " That' 6 not the point," answered Hardley, sharply. "We made thirty thousand last year, and thirty-two the fyear bet ore that, i'ou know my principle to be that the business must grow year by year —not go back. L p to three years ago we added to our prosperity every year." „ "iou know the cause of the decline, suggested Fordham, with quiet deference. "It's the competition of Cowlands of Liverpool. They have got some of our best customers. Heaven knows how they've done it. They were never heard ot up to four years ago, and in that time they've snatched about seven thousand a year out of our profits. ( "Gowlands must be taught a lesson, said Mr. Hardley, with a grim tightening of his jaw. "Issue my orders throughout the staff of salesmen that 1 shall have to get new men their places if they do not bring me a lot oi Gowlands' custom in th 6 next twelve months. The sooner Gowlands are bankrupted the better. Tell the whole stall that I shall not be satisfied until they have brought Gowlands to heel. Now 20! " Silently Fordham gathered hi s papers together and left the room to carry out his master's instructions.

Left alone, James Hardley sat in deep thought, lookincr with troubled • eyes through the frosted windows. He was thinking how harshly events were moving for iiim just now. It was not only the fall in business that worried him. He was a very wealthy man, and twenty-five thousand pounds for a year's income was not unsatisfactoiy. He had faith in himself that he could recover the ground lost during the past few years and that he could teaeh Gowlands 'a lesson that would make them regret having competed with him. All his life he had been a fighter; he had hewn his way through all kinds of obstacles to the very pinnacle of success ; and one fight more did not disturb him. The real source of his trouble just now was the knowledge that Mary, th© wife who had accompanied him through hard and pleasaift times, was lying very ill at home. Ho looked back over the years of their happy wedded life, and could not recall a Christmas in all the thirty years when they had not been as merry as the season itself. In three days it would be Christmas again, and lie would spend it by her sick-bed, watching the turn o f. Fortune's wheel, and anxiously wondering whether what the doctor had frankly said was only a. frail chance 0 f recovery would turn in Mary's favour. Tears started in the keen, grey eyes, and a prayer tremble 1 on his lips. . Theirs had been such a happy married life. Looking back over the years, he could recall only one temporary estrangement in its smooth, comfortable course. That was largely a business affair. Mary's brother, Alfred Vaughan, had been one of the most successful of the salesmen in James Hardley's employ. But five years ago the two men had clashed violently in their views as to what Alfred Vaughan's services to the business were worth. Men of iron will, neither would give way; and the matter had ended in James Hardley telling his wife's much-beloved brother to leave his employ. It was a great blow to Mary, whose fondness for her brother had to give way to wifely affection. Since then the paths of James Hardlev and Alfred Vaughan had never crossed. Where Vaughan was now Hardley neither knew nor cared. Depressed by his reflections on the past. Harley locked his desk, gave a few orders to his staff, and liuried home, though it was only early afternoon, to his wife's bedside.

Mary Hardley lay in the cheerful magnificence of her bedroom quite still, her arms folded on her breast, and the costly coverlet turned down a little. Always beautiful, the patient smile on her wan face seemed now to add to the womanly dignity of her expression. Too ill to rise, she gave a smile of welcome to her husband, and held one of his hands in hers as he bent to kiss her. She told him, in answer to his solicitous questions, that she felt better, but so week. Somehow, a bitterness against their sorrows came into Hardlcv's heart, and she noticed its reflection in liis face.

"Yon look annoyed. James," she said, sweetly, in low tones. " What is the matter?"

"Don't worry about me, dearest," he said, kindly. "I feel out of tune with the world just now. As I came along home everybody was wishing a Merry Christmas to everybody else; and it made me think of the good times we've had. lass, and the change this year. It made me bitter to think ot you suffering here at- the happiest of all times, and the words of the greeting seemed a hollow mockery to me. What does Christmas moan to you, love, but pain and anxiety? I wish T could alter it?"' A smile lit up the sick woman's face, giving a radiance to the gentle, suffering expression. Tt seemed as if his words had given her an opportunity she had longed for.

"Jim," she said, earnestly. "I know you will do anything to make mo happy, won't you?" "Anything a man can do." lie answered, fervently, a tremor in his voice. Ho bent and kissed her again. "I knew it." she replied, with a contouted clasping of her pale hands. "Now T am going to ask you to do something that will make this Christmas as happy as ever to me," she went on. "It's about Alfred." Hard ley's face nereeptiblv hardened for the moment. Even in the presence of his si«'k wife be could not bide the long-standing harsh feeling he had towards Alfred Vaughan. the linn "ho had dared to baulk his wishes. Then he looked at the palo figure on the bed. artd his face softened. "Go on, my pet," ho said, a trifle hoarsely. "Christmas, dearest, is the season of

reconciliation, isn't it?" blie said, softly and tho words conveyed to linn all her wish, "if only Altred were here this Christniastide 1 feel 1 should bo as happy as ever, and 1 should soon get well. While lying here I've often thought of your misunderstanding, and often wished you would make it up with him, and let us be together once more' I am so much longing to see him again. James Hardley saw the love-light in his wife's pleading eyes. She could not have asked a harder thing for him to do. He would have refused the request to anyone else under any conditions — to his wife herself had she been well. For ho was a man with those deep, unrelenting feelings which never forget or forgive, unless a greater feeling takes the place of resentment. That greater feeling was now present in his love for his wife. It alone resolved him to grant her request. " If I knew where Alfred was I would bring him for you, my pet," he said, and tho strained tones told how great was his sacrifice. "Oh, I knew it—i knew you would not deny me!" said the happy woman, almost exhausted by tho very joy she felt. "I do know where Alfred is," she went on. "You niu.st not blame me, Jim, for having done something secret from you; but I must now tell you that Alfred and I have written to. each other. You know what affection there was between us. He has told me in his letters all about himself except that he has never said what business he was in. You know, Jim. he had not much money when he left you. and sometimes I have thought lie might bo in want, but too proud to confess to me. lest I should send him money which had come from you." Drawing an envelope from under her pillow, she took out the letter it contained.

"There's his address." she said. Hardley bent over and read the heading: "Bartop, Beeston Road. Sefton Park, Liverpool." ~ "Forgive me if I am too eager, Jim, went on his wife, a glow of impatience in her thin face, " but I do wish youwould go to him at once. Now that you have granted my wish, I feel I cannot wait longer. But, Jim. dear, be very cautious in telling him that I am ill; it will be sucli a shock to him. for he doesn't know at all."

He bent over her again, implanting a lingering tender kiss on-her forehead. "Heaven grant." he said, devoutly, "that you may get better, love." She raised Jier feeble arms and entwined them round his neck. "I shall soon be better, dearest," she answered, "and it will be your love that will have cured me." And James Hardley heard the new note of confidence in his wife's tones with thanksgiving. A discovery awaited HardJey when, at four o'clock on the same afternoon, he rode up in a taxi to the house in Liverpool where he had come to find Alfred Vaughan. It was a large boardinghouse, and the proprietress said Mr. Vaughan was not in, but would be found at his place of business —Gowlands, [ Dock Street, Liverpool. I Hardley received that message in bewilderment. His wife's brother was with the firm who were his trade rivals, and, to carry out her wish, he would have to go to Gowlands, whose very name he hated. Ho hesitated as to whether he should not wait until Vaughan arrived at his rooms after business hours. Constitutionally opposed to delays, and knowing how eagerly Mary would be waiting, he, however, proceeded straight to the office of Gowlands, whose sumptuous premises he found to have a look of prosperity about them. He entered the building and asked for Mr. Vaughan, under the impression that Altred was merely an employee of the firm. His quick eye, however, at once observed the air of respect and deference with which Vaughan's name was receivd by the clerk. "The principal i s very busy at the moment." the clerk replied. "He would only see you on very pressing business." Perhaps you misunderstood me," said Hardley. "I don't wish to see the principal. I wish to speak to Mr. Alfred Vaughan." "Ho is the principal," answered the clerk, with a little sarcastic smile at the visitor's ignorance. In a flash it came upon James Hardiev that the Gowlands who had beaten him in the competition of trade, who had reduced his profits, was (Alfred Vaughan under another name. The man whom he had grudged paying a few more pounds a quarter in salary had proved his better in business. Hardley felt that this made his mission more difficult, for he had now not only to smooth over an old and bitter quarrel, but ho had to talk in a friendly way to a rival. Bracing himself, he sent in his card, and a moment later the clerk returned. "Mr. Vaughan desires to know," ho said, "if you could not communicate with him in writing, as he would rather not have a personal interview." The old antagonism was there, thought Hardley. The wound was not healed. Vaughan did not wish to meet him. and for his own part he wished that he was not under a solemn obligation to his sick wife to go on with the interview. But lie remembered the appealing look en her nan face, and determined lie must pocket self pride." "I'leaf*- tell Mr. Vaughan that I call on a matter of such importance that 1 must see him." This time the clerk returned from the private office with an invitation lor Hardley to follow him. Alfred Vaughan was still under fort* As James Hardley came into the office Vaughan was standing with a cold, bus-iness-like look on hu face. The features were stern, and there was just a slight gl'tter in h : s steady eye. lie made no sign of recognition as Hardley came forward. He meant to lie true to his own word that he would never again acknowledge any friendship with James llai dley. After the clerk had withdrawn it uas an awkward moment as the two strong, unrelenting men stood looking at each other—the same look as they both bore when they parted in live years before. Vaughan was the first to speak, and there was a note of triumph in bis | voice.

"I think I can trues* nhv you have called.'' he sa : d. "You find our competition a little galling. We're nulling into your profits a bit, and you want to make some offer to buy up our competition. Ti cannot. be done. .Tames Hardlev. T told you when you sent me away with the words that I was onlv a tliinlrate man at the business that I would show you that I was as rrood as you, and that I would make you regret your sneers. Now, if vou want to make any (■ffer to stop our competition, it is no use. I mean to on till I've humbled you. and T may fell vou that if it bad not been because T didn't want to hurt Man's feelings T should already have had the greater part of your trade." To this insolent outburst ITardley had

listened with rising anger, almost making ljim lose sight of Ins leal mission. "1 have not called with any such purpose," lie answered indignantly. "Tiun 1 am at a loss to understand why you have tome here," coldly answered \ any hail.

It was obvious lie was displeased that his surmise was incorrect, lor live years ho had worked to humble James Hardley and in doing so he had hardened himself —had made himself less human

It was difficult for James Hardley to speak to a man so frankly antagonistic, and a painful silence ensued. Vaughan busied himself with some papers on his desk. "Alfred," said the older man, at length, " 1 want us to be friends once more."

Mockery played about Yaughan'o eyes, mingling with suspicion. " When your enemy gets dangerous," ho said, sarcastically, "make a friend of him."

"I admit." said Hardley, more humbly than ho had spoken for years, " that in all you ever saw of me in business 1 was acting from self-interest. But there is one thing I will ask of you as man to man, Alfred Vaughan. It is this: Did you ever know a man love a woman better than I Jove your sisters''' Tho mockery at once dropped as if it had been a mask from Yaughan's face at the mention of Mary Hardley. A certain wistfulness took its place. "1 will answer that question in one word —no," Vaughan replied. "Well, it's through Mary I'm here.'' said Hardley, " begging for your hand in friendship again." And then, in tears, James Hardley told of Mary's illness, of her desire for their reconciliation, how she wished her brother to go to her, and how she had said their friendship under the same roof was the only thing she craved for Christmas.

Vaughan broke down on hearing of Mary's illness, and was a new and different man when the recital was finished. All the harshness and sarcasm and pride had left him. "Forgive me, Hardley," he said, holding out his hand, which the other clasped, the two men afterwards gripping each other because of the common bond of affection.

"Forgive me, Jim," said Vaughan again, returning to the old name he had used for Hardley. " And let us hurry off to Mary at once." * « « • It was nearing nine o'clock when the two men reached James Hardley's home. The doctor was just leaving. "A wonderful improvement, ho said. "Inconceivable! Your wife has surprised me."

"Thank Heaven!" said Hardley, a new joy bounding in his heart. "May I take her brother to her?" heasked the physician. "Certainly; there is now no danger, though what iias made so wonderful a change in a few hours I cannot tell." Hardley thought this was one of the cases where the layman knew more than tile doctor.

A moment later the two men were by the ebdside. Mary Hardley crying softlv from joy at their reconciliation. Sho had placed their hands in each other's, and there they rested. Through her tears she smiled at them, and turning to her husband said: 1 —

"And now you have brought me so precious a Christmas-box. we shall all have the liest of all Christmasses." And though, on Christmas Day. she was ony well enoueh to sit up a little while in lied, her prophecy came true The reconciled men formed a new friendship, which bore fruit later in the partnership known as Hardley and Gow. lands, of Manchester and Liverpool, but the joy of their good angel and peacemaker. in her returning health, was the most intense of all.

A SLIGHT MISTAKE

Jollyboy had been invited to go to a children's Christmas party to help amuse the small guests.

"Must do something really funny," he reflected. "I know. I'll go as a bear. That'll make the little beggars roar with laughter."

So lie procured a boar's skin, wrappod himself up in it, and set off in a taxi. When the vehicle pulled up. he sprang out, ran up the stops of the house, rang the boll, and the moment the door opened he darted into the hall and hounded on all fours into the draw-ing-room, growling fiercely But, alas! Instead of the roar of laughter he had expected, a frigid silence greeted him. He looked up. No children were there —only two very prim old maiden ladies regarding him with icy amazement. Ho had come to the wrong house! RESOURCEFUL YOUTH. For a few clays be-fore Christmas little Wiilie, who possessed a marvellous appetite, had. to tho surprise of the whole household, been eating comparatively little. At dinner 011 Christinas Day. however, he recovered, and easily bout all his previous records. He had three substantial helpings of turkey, any one of which would have boon sufficient tor the meal of an average man. Ho followed this up by sending his plate along four times for plum-pudding. When William had polished off tho last of tho plum-pudding, his father, after ho had somewhat recovered from his amazement at the extent of his son's digestive capacity, asked him sarcastically whether he could not manage a mince-pie. After thinking the suggestion over for a moment or two the young hopeful replied: "I might manage it. dad—if I stood up." NOT A GOOD CHOICE. T he very young curate was suddenly called upon to preach a Christmas sermon. lie bad not one written, there was no time to write one. and he was a bad hand at extempore preaching. In desperation lie hunted up a Christmas sermon that bad belonged to his father —also a divine —and resolved to use that. Unfortunately be dvl not read it over first. And though the commencement was quite all right, the congregation stared when ho solemnly read a passage 111 which the old man bail become reminiscent. 11 liegan : "And now, after forty years ministry anions I. 011... —"

Tor.Torus la politkssk: Lit He Denis had been to the party, and returned radiant. "Now I hope my sonny was a good little bov." remarked mother, "and remembered to say 'please' "Oh. yes. niummie," answered the little fellow, with a smile of de''ghted reminiscence. "I said '\es. phrase.' everv time. I didn't say "No, tliank vou,' once!"