CHAPTER XIV. A CONFESSION.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 302, 26 September 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER XIV. A CONFESSION.

There was not much sleep for Geoffrey that nighfc. He lay through the long hours thinking of his love for Gladys, and half believing, yet hardly daring to hope that she was beginning to return it. Her manner toward him during the evening; her glad, even joyful greeting when he entered Mrs Loring'^ diawing-room, her sh}', sweet glances while talking with him, and the ever ready colour which leaped into her cheeks beneath his fond gaze, all thrilled him with the blissful conviction that she was not indifferent to him. ' But my life Avill be ruined if I cannot win her,' he said, a sort of dull despair settling down upon his heart at the mere thought. * I have always been determined to make the most of my advantages for her sake — that I might be worthy of her ; I have resolved from the first time that no one should excel me, and that when I should be through with my college course I would battle, with all the energy I possess, for a high position in *jhe world to offer her. But what will it all amount to, if, in the meantime, someone else steals my darling from me ? — if, while my own lips are sealed, from a sense of honour, some other man wins the heart I covet and I have to see her become his wife ? Good heavens ! I could not 6ear it— it would destroy my ambition — it would make a wreck of me.' And yet this only increased his unhappiness — to feel that he might win her, and yet could not without being guilty of both treachery and ingratitude toward the man from whom he had received such lasting benefits, and who had stood in the place of a father to him. He tossed and turned upon his pillow in an agony of unrest and apprehension, the future looking darker and more hopeless to him with every waning hour, and when at last morning dawned he arose looking haggard and almost ill from the conflict through w Inch he had passed. When the breakfast bell rang he shrank, with positive pain, from going below to meet his kind friends with this burden on his heart. But he stopped suddenly while in the act of crossing the threshold of his room, his eye lighting, a vivid flush rising to his brow, as some thought flashed upon his mind. 'I will do it,' he murmured, resolute lines settling about his mouth. ' I will go directly to Uncle August and confess my love for Gladys in a manly, straightforward way, atid if he does not oppose me — if he betrays no repugnance to such a union, I will no longer conceal my feelings from her, although it may be years before I shall dare to ask her to share my fortunes. I know if I can have before me the hope that t>he will some clay become my wife, that no goal will be too difficult for me to attain. I shall be able to remove mountains for her dear sake. But if he shrinks in the least from giving me his only child, 1 will sacrifice every hope — I will go away and hide myself and my despair from every eye, rather than he should think me ungrateful for all that he has done for me.' Having made these resolutions a new hope seemed to animate him, the clouds clea ed from his brow, his heart grew lighter, and he descended to the dining-room looking more like himself. Still Mr Huntress noticed his paleness and the unusual gravity of his manner, and wondered at it, for he had seemed remarkably cheerful, even gay, the previous evening at Mrs Loring's. ' The boy is working too hard,' he said to himself, anxiously; 'he has too much ambition for his stiength,' and he resolved to caution him anew before he left. As they arose from the table Geoffrey looked at his watch. ' Uncle August,' he said, a hot flush mantling his cheek, ' I have an hour just before I need to go. Can I see you alone for a little while on a matter of business ?' ' Business, Geoff I' laughed his uncle. ' I imagined that your mind was filled with literary pursuits, to the exclusion of all else. I had no idea you could combine the two.' ' I should not have called it business ; the matter upon Avhich I wish to speak is far more vital than any business could possibly be,' Geoffrey replied, gravely. ' I'll wagei the boy i& borrowing trouble over his resemblance to that chap whom we met last evening ; he doubtless believes that he is on the verge of some important discovery, and wants me to help him ferret out the truth,' Mr Huntiess mused, as he led the way to his library. ' Now, Geoff, I'm ready to listen to whatever you may have on your mind,' he said, seating him-self comfortably, and motioning the young man to another chair. ' Uncle August,' Geoffrey began, after pausing a moment to collect his thought?, ' you know, do you not, that I am truly grateful to you for the unexampled kindness which you have shown me ever since you found me, such a pitiable object, in the streets of New York V ' Why, my boy,' said Mr Huntress, looking astonished over this unexpected speech, ' I have never stopped to think whether you were grateful or not ; you have always shown that you loved me and desired to please me, and that wa« enough." ' I have loved you I do love you ; if I should ever discover my own father I do not believe that I could him the deep affection which I cherish for you. But, Uncle August, I have a confession to make to you this morning which may cause something of a change in your feelings towards me.' ' A confe&sion ?' repeated Mr Huntress, looking up quickly and anxiously. • Surely, Geoff, you haven't been getting into any trouble at college ?' ' No, sir ; what I have to tell you, you may regard as far more serious than any college scrape — it may alienate your affection for me far more, but — ' ' Out with it, Geoff, don't beat about the bush ; I fancy you won't find me very obdurate, no matter what you have done,' Mr Huntress interrupted, although he believed Geoffrey was making a mountain out of some mole-hill. 1 1 will, sir ; confession is the only honourable course open to me, and yet if I offend you I shall dread to look my future in the face.' 'Good heaven, Geoffrey ! you begin to frighten me ; speak out — what have you been doing that is so dreadful ?' exclaimed his friend, now looking thoroughly alarmed. ' I have dared to — love Gladys, sir.' ' You have dared to love Gladys ! Well, of course, who could help it ?' said August Huntress, his astonishment increasing, and not, on the instant comprehending the full import of the words. ' But — but — Uncle August you do not understand ; I love her as a man loves the woman whom he wishes to make his wife,' said Geoffrey, with a very pale face, for the die was cast now, and he waited the result with fear and trembling. * Humph ! and this is your confession ?'

' Yes, sir ; I hope you will nob regard me as a viper that turns and sfcings the hand that nourishes it, ! the young man pleaded, with emotion. August Huntress did not reply for a moment. Ho thoroughly comprehended the situation now, and a great sigh of relief came welling up from his deep chest, ior he had imagined from Geoffrey's grave looks and ominous words that he had got into some difficulty at college which might hamper him through tho remainder of his course. But it was only a love affair, after all, ana he had long ago surmised that some such result might follow the intimate association of these two who were so dear to him. His eyes began to twinkle as he regarded the handsome fellow, sitting: there before him with downcast eyes and troubled countenance, and yet he knew that the struggle which had driven him to this confession must have been a severe one, and he appreciated, too, the sense of honour and the nobility which had also prompted it. 'Have you told Gladys anything of this ?' he asked. ' No, sir ; it was my duty to come to you first, for your approval or rejection of my suit. I could not forget that lam a nameless waif, whom your goodness alone has redeemed from a blighted life. I could not forget, either, the fact, that when I shall have finished my education I shall have nothing to offer her whom I love, save my heart, an empty hand, and a name that is mine only by adoption.' Mr Huntress was toucher) by his frankness and honour. 'I can vouch for the heart, Geoff,' he said ; ' Id is large, and generous, and noble. Empty hands are no disgrace if they are honest and willing hands, backed by energy and a resolute spirit, both of which I know you possess. As for the name, it is above reproach, but not more so than the manly fellow upon whom I have bestowed it, and of whom I am very proud ; I know he will never dishonour it.' 'Thank you, Uncle August,' Geoffrey replied, with a suspicious tremor in his voice ; ' but heart, hands, name, and even life itself will not amount to much with me if I am denied the love I craye — the world would be nothing to me without Gladys.' 'It would be rather dark to all of us without her ; she has been the light of our home and the pride of our heat ts for a good many years ; and, Geoff, to speak the truth, I believe nothing would please me better than to have you two marry, if you love each other well enough.' Geoffrey looked up with a transfigured face. ' Oh, Uncle August, do you mean that ?' he cried. ' Of course I mean it, or I should not have said it. Your confession, although it startled me a trifle at first, as it would any father to be asked to give away his only child, was not wholly unanticipated, for I have net been blind during the last few years, and it has proved nobility better than almost anything else could have done, and if you can win Gladys I shall give her to you with my sincere blessing. You have grown very de r ir to me, Geoff. I have been building great hopes upon you ever since I adopted you as my son, and now nothing would satisfy me so well as to have you become more closely allied to me, and thus cement even more strongly the bonds that already unite us.' ' Bur,' Geoffrey began, then stopped short, a burning flush rising to the roots of his hair, although his heart had thrilled with joy to every word his uncle had uttered. ' Well, out with it ; surely you are not I going to argue against your own cause, I when you can have everything your own way — that is, as far as / am concerned,' Mr Huntress said, laughingly. ' But I wish you to consider the matte 1 * in all its bearings,' the young man responded, very seriously. ' You must not forget that you are utterly ignorant of my parentage. I may even be the child of some unfortunate woman, and cast adrift in order to conceal the story of her shame. If we should ever make such a discovery, and you should regret having given me my heart's desire, it might make misery for us all in the future.' 'Geoffrey,' August Hunttress responded in just as serious a tone, ' I confess that such a discovery would pain me exceedingly, but more on your account than my own. Still, if I knew at this moment that you could honourably call no man father, if I knew that your mother had committed an irremediable error, it could not detract from my affection for you nor my prido in you. I hope, however, if such-is the story of your origin, that you will never know it The name that I have given you will be sufficient to aid you to an honouiable position in the world ; it is your character, what you are yourself, that is chiefly to be considered, and I could give you Gladys — provided she was willing to give herself to you — without a demur. Heaven bless you, Geoff! Go and win your bride if you can !' He held out his hand as he concluded, and Geoffrey seized it in a transport of joy. ' Uncle August, you are a royal gentleman,' he cried, earnestly ; • and now you have crowned all your pa&t goodness to me with this great, this priceless gift, I am the happiest fellow in Christendom !' ' Well then, don't come to me with any more confessions,' returned h,is companion, jocosely, though there were tears in his eyes. ' 1 declare my blood actually ran cold when I looked into your solemn face and thought, perhaps, you had been sent home from college in disgrace for some un-heard-of misdemeanor. Still,' he added, more seriously, ' I might have known better, for you have been studying too hard to have much time for mischief.' ' Indeed I have ; and, Uncle August, I am going to gain my year without any difficulty,' the young man said, with shining eyes. ' Well, I like to have you smart, only don't work so hard that j^ou will break down ; I'd much prefer to have it take you a year longer to get through than to have you injure your health.' ' I shall not ; I am as strong as a giant, and now, with this new hope to brighten my life, I believe 1 could accomplish almost anything. I want to get through with my course in the next two years, and then I must turn my mind to business, for I have my fortune yet to make, you know.' ' Yes. I should advise you to choose something 1 to do when you get through college ; it is better for every man to have some business or profession, no matter how much money he may have. I may as well tell you, Geoff, and I do not believe it will do you any harm to know it, that I have made a handsome provision for you, and if you desire to get into something promising by and-by, I shall be glad to anticipate my will and help you to it. I have plenty, my boy,' he continued, confidentially, ' and if it were not for this habit of business that is on me, like a sort of second nature, I might retire and take my ease for the remainder of my life.' ' I think you deserve to take your ease,' Geoffrey replied ; ' you at least might have a few years of travel and sight Beeing.' ' I should enjoy that if I could do all my travelling by land. I don't' take to the water very well, and perhaps, by the time you and Gladys are through college'we'will all like to run about a little. Bufc,' he-

added, looking at his watch, 'if you're j going on that nine o'clock train you will have to be off, and,' with a sly smile, ' since you are absolved from all your sins you can go with a light heart and an easy conscience. ' Geoffrey smiled and flushed. 1 1 think, Uncle August, I can manage to spare another day,' he said, * and if you do not object, T believe I will run over to New York again, and escort Gladys home. She said something about returning today.' August Huntress laughed aloud at this change in the young man's plans. ' You do not intend to lose any time in your wooing, I perceive,' he said, then added, more thoughtfully : 'As a rule, I should say it was better not to mix love with Latin, Greek, and the sciences ; but you and Gladys are so set upon your studies I imagine it won't hurt you to season them with a libfcle sentiment. Go along, you rogue, and good luck go with you 1 However, I imagine you need not tremble very much for your fate.' ' Do you think that Gladys cares for me ?' Geoffrey asked, eagerly. 'Go and find out for yourself. I'm not going to betray any of Gladys's secrets,' Mr Huntress retorted, with an assumption of loyalty, but with such a mischievous gleam in his eyes that Geoffrey set oft for New York with a strangely light heart.