A CHRISTMAS STORY.

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 81, 20 December 1884, Page 5

A CHRISTMAS STORY.

By Jennie Wren.

Chap. I. — A Leaflet from a Life. " The Lily of Abgyle, 47 days from London, carrying 258 passengers, bound for Auckland, New Zealand," shouted the skipper in voice of thunder, as the good ship Lady Gordon came alongside. Messages were interchanged, a mail bag hastily made up, and the Lady Gordon went on her homeward way, bearing many a word of love to anxious friends in England from those 258 human souls. With one of these anxious, hopeful hearts our story has to do, and we crave our reader's indulgence if we seem to fail in our intention of taking just a leaflet from one human life, and scanning its simple record for our Christmas tale. Amos Holt, of Holt's Farm, in one of the rural districts of England, was counted by his friends and neighbours a substantial man, whose family were pretty sure to do well in the world, and maintain a good position in Earlcote society. The little market town of Earlcote possessed but few advantages ; but among those few was one which its inhabitants freely appreciated — the fact that its society certainly was very select. Its respectability was unquestionable ; there were but few public-houses, its gaol was seldom occupied, its record of crime being always below that of its sister towns in the county. Now, Amos Holt was wont to drive into Earlcote as regularly as market day came round, sometimes accompanied by his wife and daughters, sometimes only by his son Richard, of whom he hoped yet to make a good farmer, although the young man did not display much agricultural talent. On the contrary, Richard prefered a quiet, studious life, and during his brief course at Earlcote Grammar School, had displayed much natural ability, coupled with an undaunted perseverance. But already the clouds were gathering over England's agricultural districts. Landlords could not find tenants at the former high rental, labour was so ill paid, and machinery so plentiful, that the young men preferred seeking a livelihood in the large manufacturing towns to living in aimless poverty in the country. Many of the farmers listened to the glowing reports of certain agents of immigration who, in no measured eulogies, described the happiness and prosperity of the New Zealand settlers ; and several families decided to sell out, and try their fortune in a more favoured land where (as yet) landlordism had not attained such arbitrary power. Among those affected by the immigration mania, was Amos Holt, who already found it very difficult to keep up with his neighbours in maintaining the position of gentleman farmer. So there came a day when Holt's farm changed owners, and the family prepared to leave England while yet there was time to save themselves from possible penury. Now, Richard, although he had no desire for a country settler's life, had vague hopes of finding a better field for exertion in the new country than in England, where competition was so close and severe. There waa but one matter which gave him anxiety. He had pledged his heart and hand to pretty Alice Meredith, the only daughter of Doctor Meredith, of Earlcote; and her father would not consent to their marriage, if Richard followed out the family intention and emigrated to New Zealand. Here was a serious difficulty. He loved Alice far too well to give her up, and the fair girl loved him with a devotion that was really touching. Yet she dared not disobey her father, and her mother was heart-broken at the mere mention of her only darling undertaking such a voyage. She was only eighteen, a slender, delicate girl, with eyes of softest, deepest blue, over which the heavy fringed lashes hung like drooping canopies to the entrance of the soul ; for Alice had such a depth of tenderness and expression in her azure eyes that her father was wont to call them " windows of her soul." No wonder that the old people clung to her, their only treasure, the idol of their hearts, and would fain have seen her wedded to a "settled-down resident of Earlcote, whose head was not turned by rumours of untold fortune in a new country." But the handsome Richard Holt had won her susceptible young heart, and what sacrifices will not love make for sweet love's sake 1 He could not take her with him, but he could secure the bond of union that should hold their hearts as one, though oceans rolled between ; and so it came about that Richard Holt won the consent of fair Alice Meredith to a secret marriage, which was quietly performed one morning in a distant village church. Alice had been staying with a friend for a week or two at Summerton, and what more natural than that her lover should pay her a farewell visit there the very week before he sailed ? She kissed the tiny golden bond upon her finger, then hung it round her fair neck by a white ribbon, and hid it near her heart. " Good bye, my little wife," said Richard. "I shall prepare a lovely home for my pretty English bird ; then she shall come to me across the sea." A few days later he was gone, and she had only the memory of his love to sustain her through the anxious months that followed, waiting for his promised letter. At last it came, the welcome news of his safe arrival in Auckland, and of his success in finding employment in the city. His father had gone up the country, where he had taken up land, but Richard preferred town life ; so he and his two sisters had taken a small house, where the girls took in dressmaking, while he sat in a dingy office adding up long lines of figures thai would somehow form, themselves into

perplexing problems, as his tho*agh|is wandered away over ,the broad ocean tq. tre little town of Earfcote^ where" his %dung wife waited for the welcome letter that should call her to his side. Thus Richard wrote hopefully, lovingly j and Alice tried to be patient, and send him a cheery, loving answer; but as the weeks rolled by her heart often sank with sad forebodings of that uncertain future, and her cheeks grew paler, her blue eyes heavy with anxious fear, as the truth slowly dawned upon her mind that she would not be able much longer to conceal her marriage. One day the crisis came. Dr. Meredith had been sorely troubled by the sad change in his daughter's physical and mental condition, and attributing these painful symptoms to grief at Richard's departure, had ventured to speak gently to Alice, and ascertain the true state of her feelings towards him. *His wife, too, shared bis anxieties, and the good folks decided that it were better to send for Richard home again and let them be married than to sacrifice the bright young life to the sorrow of a hopeless love. Poor Alice, what could she say? Her nervous system could not bear this continued strain ; her heart seemed ready to burst as she hid her face on her mother's bosom, and, with a cry of mingled joy and pain, fainted in her arms. In her darkened, silent room, Alice waited the decision of her parents ; for during her unconscious state her mother had discovered the wedding-ring hidden in her bosom. " I n«ver thought matters had gone so i far," said poor Mrs. Meredith, through her 1 tears, as she sat in the doctor's study, overwhelmed by this discovery. " Well, well, mother," replied the doctor, wiping his eyes ; "we must g^ive her up ; it is a good thing they are married. If any- : thing should happen to our poor girl on the voyage, that will be a blessing ; but she must go to her husband as soon as possible, or I fear the result both for herself and child." It was a great sacrifice, but then she was their only child, tenderly beloved, and how could they trust her alone on such a long voyage in her present delicate state of health ? So the nappy home and excellent practice of Dr. Meredith were both given up, and the family left Earlcote for ever. Passages were engaged in the Lily of Argyle, and soon they were on their way to their new home, where they hoped to see their darling restored to health and happiness. All went well for the first half of the voyage. Alice seemed to get stronger j the light of hope and love came back to those blue eyes, that often gazed so wistfully over the broad expanse of ocean, in anticipation of the joyful meeting that awaited her on that distant shore. When the Lady Gordon passed on her homeward way, Mrs. Meredith was able to send hopeful messages to Earlcote friends, for to this fond mother's loving heart, her child's happiness and welfare were the chief consideration of earthly bliss. A few days later, scarlet fever in its most malignant form broke out on board the Lily of Argyle, and among its first victims were Dr. Meredith and his wife. And even as the death angel hovered over the unfortunate vessel, another human soul was launched forth upon life's troubled sea, and the cry of the new-born babe mingled with the sobs of the bereaved sufferers. Strange to relate, that tender life escaped the fatal fever that in a few short hours had made it motherless ; and when tho dreadful scourge was removed, and the weakened ciew and reduced passengers were able once more to resume their daily duties, the little babe was carried on deck to the thanksgiving service, and received its baptismal name and blessing. " Lily," fair and fragile, orphaned at her birth, yet wonderfully preserved through that time of danger — what shall thy future know of joy or sorrow ? For what purpose was thy young life spared ? Only the Father, who dwelleth in the Infinite, knoweth the issue of each human life ; to mortal eye the page of the future is a hidden record, ODly to be turned over leaf by leaf, transcribed in characters of love. The Angel of the Future standeth near, guarding and guiding each human destiny from the cradle to the grave, which is but the gateway of a new life. He relaxeth not his vigilance or care, until the record of that life is written, sealed, and covered, and the soul returneth to the Infinite, bearing into the Presence of Eternal Love — what immortal fruits ? what harvests of blessing ? Ah, solemn thought for a new year's consideration. ''Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he reap." What shall I bear into the Father's presence as the fruit of a lifetime ? As for me, as I look upon the mistakes and failures of a year that has almost sped, I can. think of no purer, more beautiful, or desirable offering than « A Wreath of Lilies. '