CHAPTER I.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 150, 17 April 1886, Page 3

CHAPTER I.

THE AIiARM. Life, struck sharp on death. Makes awful lightning. Mrs Browning. 1 had just come in from the Btreet. I had a letter in my hand. It was for my fellowlodger, a young girl who taught in the High School, and whom I had persuaded to share my room because of her pretty face and quiet ways She was not at home, and I flung the letter down on the table, where it fell, address downwards. I thought no more of it : my mind was too full, my heart too heavy with my own trouble. Going to tho window, i leaned my cheek against the pane. Oh. the deep sadness of a solitary woman's life ! The sense of helplessness that comes upon her when, every effort made, every possibility sounded, sho realises that the world has no place for her, and that she must either stoop to ask the assistance of friends or starve ! I have no words for the misery I felt, for I am a proud woman, and . But no lifting of the curtain that shrouds my past. It has fallen for ever, and for you and me and the world I am simply Constance Sterling, a young woman of twenty-five, without home, relatives, or means of support, having in her pocket seventy-five cents of chango. and in her breast a heart like lead, ho utterly had every hope vanished in the day's rush of disappointments, How long I stood with my face to the wimlo.v I cannot say. With eyes dully fixed upon the walls of the cottages opposite, I stood oblivious to all about me till the fading sunlight -or was it some stir in the room behind me ! — recalled me to myself, and I turned to find my pretty roommate staring at me with a troubled look that for a moment made me forget my own sorrows and anxieties. " What is it?" I asked, going towards her with an irresistiblo impulse of sympathy. "I don't know," she murmured ; " a sudden pain here," laying her hand on her heart. I advanced still nearer, but her face, which had been quite pale, turned suddenly rosy ; and, with a more natural expression, she took me by the hand, and said : — "But you look more than ill, you look unhappy. Would you mind telling me what worries you ?"' The gentle tone, the earnest glance of raoclesb yet sincere interest, went to my heart. Clutching her hand confusively, 1 burst into tears. "It ia nothing," said I ; " only my last resource has failed, and I don't know where to get a meal for to morrow. Not that this is anything in itself," I hastened to add, my natural'pride reasserting it&elf ; "but the future ! the future ! — what am I to do with my future?" She did not answerat fiTct? A gleam — I can scarcely call it a glow — passed over her face, and her eyes took a far-away look that made them very sweet. Then a little flush stole into her cheek, and pressing my hand, she said : — " Will you trust it to me for a while ?" I must have looked my astonishment, for she hastened to add : " Your fortune I have little concern for. Wibh such capabilities as yours, you must find work. Why, look at your face !" and Bhe drew me playfully before the glass. 14 See the forehead, the mouth, and tell me you read failure there ! But your present is -what is doubtful, and that I can certainly j take care of." II But " I protested, with a sensation of waimth in my cheeks. The loveliest smile stopped me beforo I could utter a word more. " As you would take care of mine," she contempleted, "if our positions were reversed " Then, without waiting for a further demur on my part, she kissed me, and as if the sweet embrace had made us sisters at once, drew me to a chair and sat down at my feet. "You know," she naively murmured, " I am almost rich ; I have five hundred dollars laid up in the bank, and » I put my hand over her lips ; I could not help it. She was such a frail little thing, so white and so ethereal, and her poor five hundred had been earned by such weary, weary work. " But that is nothing, nothing," I said. "You have a future to provide for, too, and you are not as strong as 1 am, if you have been more successful." She laughed, then blushed, then laughed again, and impulsively cried : " It is, however, more than I need to buy a wedding-dress with, don't you think ?" And as I looked up surprised, she flashed out : " Oh, it's my secret; but lam going to be married in a month, and- and then I won't want to count my pennies any more ; and, co I cay, if you will stay here with ttie without a care until that day comes, you will make me very happy, and prt me at the same time under a real obligation ; for I ehall want a great many things done, as you can readily conceive." What did I say - what could I say, with her sweot blue eyes looking so truthfully into mine, but—" Oh, you darling girl!" while my heart filled with tears, which only escaped from overflowing my eyes because I would not lessen her innocent joy by a hint of my own secret trouble, "And who is the happy man?" I asked, at last, rising to p\x)l down the curtain across a too inquisitive ray of afternoon sunshine. "Ah, the noblest, best man in the town !" she breathed, with a burst of gentle pride. "Mrß — " She wont no further, or if she did, I did not hear her, for just then a hubbub arose in the street, and lifting the window, I looked out. "What is it?" she cried, cominp hastily towards me. "I don't know," I returned. "The people aie all rushing in one direction, but I cannot see what attracts them." ,"Come away then !" she murmured ; and I saw her hand go to her heart, in the way it did when she first entered the room a half hour before. But just then a sudden voice exclaimed below : ' l The clergyman ! It is the clergyman !" And giving a emotherod she grasped me by the , arm, crying ; " What do they say ? ' The

tfergyman?' Do they say 'the clergyman ?' " "Yea," I answered, turning upon her with alarm. But she was already at the : door. "Can it be," I asked myself, as I hurriodly followed, "that it is Mr Bar rows she if going to marry ?" For in the small town of S Mr Barrows was the only man who could properly be 'meant by "The clergyman ;" for though Mr Kingston, of the Baptist Church, was a worthy man in his way, and the Congregational minister had an influence with his flock that was not to be despised, Mr Barrows, alone of all his fraternity, had so won upon the affections and confidence of the people as to merit the appellation of "The Clergyman." " If I am right," thought I, " God grant that no harm has come to him !" and 1 dashed down the stairs just in time to see the frail form of my room-mate flying out of the front door, I overtook her at last; but where? Far out of the town on that dark and dismal road, where the gaunt chimneys of the deserted mill rise from a growth of pine-treea. But I knew before I reached her what she would find ; knew that her short dream of love was over, and that stretched amongst the weeds which choked tho entrance to the old mill lay the dead form of the revered young minister, who, by his precept and example, had won nob only the heart of this young maiden, but that of the whola community in which he lived and laboured.