THE STORY-TELLER. CECIL ORMEROD'S ADVENTURE.

Te Aroha News, Issue 4, 30 June 1883, Page 4

THE STORY-TELLER. CECIL ORMEROD'S ADVENTURE.

(Continued,) 'That; is where you are so blind, youngster,' answered Bob, nodding bis head ; 'you don't appear to realise what you are about to do, It is a serious matter for a young man wantonly to throw away a good connection. The fact is that in these days a painter, unless he possesses exceptional genius, requires the support of a private connection at the commencement of his career just as much as a tailor or a wine-merchant. You have been fairly successful hitherto, but you mustn't forget the reason. Your pictures have invariably been purchased by friends with whom you have been acquainted by going into society. You now propose to offend all these and run amuck of society, and expect to sell your pictures all the same. My dear boy, you mustn't be offended at my telling you that your talent is not of a sufficiently high order to command attention from the general public. It may be compared at present to a puny plant which will thrive in a warm corner sheltered from the wind, and in timo grow and become strong enough to resist the winter blasts ; but if it were transplanted at ouce into the open, it would wither and die.' 'Confound you, Bob! What rot you're talking/ exclaimed young Ormerod angrily, though he could not help being struck by the force of his friend's arguments. ' I ain't a genius I know, but I could make a living, at any rate/ ' A devilish poor one I' said Bob, with an uncomplimentary shrug. Unless I'm very much mistaken, you're not the man to fight an nphiil game. You've been brought up, so to speak, in cotto.i wool; petted by mammas with marriageable daughters ; and spoilt by premature good luck in your profession. It isn't a pleasant prospect to picture yourself an outcast from society like me, living on starvation wages earned from dealers, and with the additional burden of a family of hungry children and a wife whom nobody will receive.' ' You're a pretty Job's comforter!' said Ormerod, wincing involuntarily. 1 Come, Cecil, be sensible V returned Bob, speaking with evident earnestness. 1 You're pretty shrewd and wide wake, and you must see for yourself that this marriage would mean ruination to you. You and the young lady must make a sacrifice, my boy, for both your sakes ; and if she be really a good girl, as I believe her to be, she won't stand in the way of your real happiness. There's some whisky in that bottle at your elbow. Help yourself and pass it on, and let us talk the matter over as men of the world.' Bob Haydock had a wonderful influence over young men, and his arguments rarely failed in their effect when he took the trouble to be earnest and persistent. After a long discussion, he succeeded in persuading young Ormerod to look at the matter from a comraonsense point of view, and the upshot was that in a day or two it became known that Cecil had listened to reason and had abandoned his rash intentions. - What became of the poor girl nobody took the trouble to inquire ; but there was a general impression that Bob had packed her off to America. To do the young man's friends justice, they were honestly glad for his sake that he had escaped social ruin and disgrace. Now that the danger had passed, he was quickly taken into favour again by society. In fact, he was considered to have shown remarkable^ good sense and moral courage iijf resisting his youthful passion, and was regarded as a brand snatched from the burning. Within a month or two of the occurrence, this awkward episode in the young man's career had passed out of people's minds as completely as though it had never happened. Cecil Ormerod, was as much in request and as popular as ever, and several good-natured persons made a point of giving him fresh commissions, as though to impress upon him that he was in every way a gainer by the prudent self-control he had exercised. Two years afterwards, young Ormerod' jnarried happily. He had changed a good deal in the interyal, and had applied himself so assiduously to his art that he was advancing rapidly to fame and fortune. Even Bob Haydock had -admitted that the young man had developed unexpected talent. His fribnds

were not slow to notice the alteration in him, and attributed it in » great measure to his unfortunate love-affair. Evidently he had been badly hit, and did not seem likely to get over it. It was, therefore, an agreeable surprise to most people when he became engaged to Miss Ethel | Lloyd, a clergyman's daughter, whom ! he met while on a fishing excursion in | North Wales, one autumn, with his friend Bob Hay dock. Every one agreed that it was the best thing that could happen to him, and Bob expressed his satisfaction with unwonted enthusiasm. It turned out that Miss Lloyd was one of a large family, and had not a farthing of dowry, but she was at least respectable, and the daughter of a clergyman of the Established Church, whose name duly figured in the Clergy List as the vicar of a small parish in Wales with an unpronounceable name. As no other young lady of his acquaintance cherished the least hope of securing him for a husband, Cecil Ormerod's marriage was ! universally regarded as a happy event, j and the bride received a warm and hearty welcome from his numerous friends. She was decidedly pretty and clever, and soon became as popular in society as her husband. She seemed in every way qualified to make him an excellent wife, and people who recollected the young man's infatuation of a year or two back often wondered whether it ever occurred to him to contrast his present happiness with the miserable life he would have led had he married the poor girl who first secured his affections. One evening, when Mrs Cecil Ormerod was no longer by any stretch of politeness entitled to be called a bride, she and her husband dined *t the mansion of a modern Maecenas, where they met a good many pleasant people. During their homeward drive, Cecil Ormerod said to his wife — 'By-the-by, Ethel, who was that talkative old gentleman who took you down to dinner ? I know him by sight, bnt I can't for the life of me think where I've seen him.' f He,' replied Ethel, 'is is my very good friend Mr Robert Hay dock, and I am sure you will like him veiy much.' ! 'But how nearly we were separated for ever, and now fortunate was our meeting after that wretched London episode in my life.' Cecil took good care not to cay through whose good offices that separation had arisen, nor did Bob Haydock ever guess that the girl he had warned his young friend against, and the young bride he so much admired and respected, was one and the same person. Neither could he have known that owing to the deathofthe stepmother, who had made all the mischief, Ethel returned to her home and was accidentally fallen in with by Cecil on his Welsh tour, when the old love was kindled afresh with the happy result above indicated. Thus all was well that ended well, and even Mrs Grundy, even satisfied with Cecil's choice in happy ignorance that the bright young bride that could now hardly be honored enough, whilst only two years before she was shunned as a .social pariah, and any reference to or was supposed to be one of shame, were one and the same person.