LITERATURE.
£ AN AFfBCHON OP THE HEAIIT. t Silently -and swiftly it flows, the *trong tidal river. On gast field 3 gj* -and pMtture-lands, smoothing rugged f ■ .comers, 'winding in and gliding out, C'S, aatil, taking a bend by an old farrn--)lousc, ft splashes across some anciaat boukJers, and escapes to the A;':.; sea, there to await the returning SjJ tide. Sk _. ; in the distance the shining - may be seen, with Small I - craft dancing on the sunlit waves, p J#hil®ev«ry here and there rise the j-. tall masts of some foreign barque, hoisting sails for a morning depari, turc. J. Spring is sweet, and Spring is fair, ££> and a maiden's thoughts may sooa i. bo IqstrM-reverie when she-Wanders
&-.amongst the applo-blossom in a rr quaint Cornish orchard. Gladys Charlton wends her way *" >pest which the br tanning water hurriea in its baste to be gone. Here teds a seat, and gives herself ? >~MpJx> the enjoyment ola-quiet hour £■ the birds, flowers, and sunshine, jr' realises an ideal restfuluess, and l*npdera how it can t>c that only yes--5 v-tenlay she was right in the heart of S£''4he Metropolis. Gladys is studying t» be a doctor. not, frown, and'say : " I diisjpprove ot her ; women-doctors arc n rf*Selußion " ; for her motives are 'of
pV the truest and best. | ai , .Her own mother had died when *= Gladys was eleven years old, and in 32* iw»-tha*___thre<r years Mr -Charlton b: jwrried a~second wife—a peevish, |r:,„)fctous weman, who made'her little step-daughter's life- so unbearable , Ijpiiibat. her father sent' her away to and from that time the girl gte'.-j'oqmii. to have any love for her P&<%WBe. though formal relations were I&Mr. observed between herself and I §»£ lira Charlton. ggk. When school-days were nearly over, dreaded the prospect of an distance in Cornwall, and sought, «w»e IppP^ 101 ? -by; : which to yscape jlfefcwlß such a dreary 'life. She freps- fluently visited house of a fc,v Kindly did ° docter and his wifo at St. John's Wood, and perhaps all she Sg- WW and heard there induced • _her to the medical profession as her Pgriocation. . jg- v? Ur Charlton gladly gave his con sliTjent, for he, too, had misgivings as f To- how things would be when his r daughter came home. And though jL'rfcHadys had'her flfolts, she was well W"for her work, being strong, enjr- gentle, and clever withal. || Vj • It is now the mid-term recess, and jjfe''. Gladys is free for three weeks. Her P , thoughts are happy on<;s. while she fineries with herself as "to how she §l% "Shall pass the "timer and then her mind wanders., back to Lpmion, and gShJjshe nnfeonßCious of every- ||\ ihing save a labyrinth of questionKutv'ings concerning the future, the good ipSvjate will fry to accomplish, and I K-" v know not what besides, for the had so many beautiful ideas. |l|- But the most ether lal dreams have I'* a practical ending, and the " youngfe' » girl- 'graduate " is disturbed in the R midst, of her solitary musings. Some discovers her retreat, and Gladys t-* Uses to meet the newcomer. A « Boy t" k,5 r " Yes, why-not? Jack told me' p. you were at. home, so I thought I, I v •ouMcome over Here this lovely e;, morning and pay my respects to Dr •f " 1 , Charlton. What is~ the fee for a prill jjjWte consultation-? wS,- " Now, Hoy, I'm not going to be P Let's go down to the beach, E'fi- Mid I'll tell you all the latest nef's." Bat Royland does "not appear to Ej? Bare about anything this morning |pg it concerns the narrator, and f-JV") simply grows more and .more abg-' I etaocted. At last Gladys gets cross, p-- and says impetuously. « ■" Beally, Boy, you are terribly I'i- Sense and provoking ! Ten minutes . v W I told -you that Hermann Sternv fcerg had takon his degree ; and now, I™'.j ffhen I speak qf his large practice t_ - you say ; ' 8-tern-b-berg ? Has he ( left college T ' Tou are so stupid ! " ,' e> . " I was wonderiag about your future, Gladys, dear. ' Don't be vexed ; because I seemed stupid. But do you j really think you have chosen wis&--v Jy?" , W "Of course," is the somewhat h j ."scornful reply. "Bull don't like gr» ,you to -call me 'dear: now I'm ¥' grown up-Ht*s silly ! "
1 ' Ami then Gladys grows more gen,Ue as she relaxes into her old rianc"— Hers with Boy, and unfolds her won- ; Herful plans for (the benefit of the f human race. t?-" .Her,listener remains silent - for a C |»hlle, and then saj's smilinsflj : A • " But, Gladys, couldn't you carry out some of these nice Hlens now ? Si i .You say that when; you are duly ''"x, qualified you will have a regular U* supply of cream and flowers sent up g • for the- Children's Hospital." Would jG _ i.t not be easy to pack V: few hampjjr> pers and send tjien off during the reI?? cess ? Why wait until you are set|L% - jUed and hove a row of letters after your name ? "■ jr* ' Miss Charlton looks a little crestfallen, and answers .slowly : •' I never thought of it". You think -of everything. Boy." '■ " In spite of my stupidity." is Hie i * laughing report. " But now I must . give you some information. Uncle Kenneth is dead, and has left mc his money, so, unless I choose, there . . is no need for me to go ou -studying for the -Bar. What wonld you advise me to do—give up, or go £V* "Why, give it up. Boy. I always
thought it a pity that you should choose such a profession. You arc very good, but not a bit clever. You must go and travel ; it will enlarge your ideas. I think "this money is a providence." '• Would you miss me ? " said Koyland thoughtfully. •• l'erhaps a little—that is, when I'm at home*; but, you know, my life is too busy to miss people much." * # * * The birds sing their evensong ; trees rustle to the sweet, tune which the gentle breeze is playing ;■ and blue mists rise from the neighbouring valleys as the day's work is ended. The kinc have all gone home, and the flowers close their petals to Nature's lullaby : but Ihc air is seen toil with their perfume. An enchanted hush comes over the land ; everything says, " Good-night." Gladys Charl'ton will never forget how slie stood gazing a«ross the sea that evening. Suddenly a voice broke the stillness, and Koykind Hivers stood beside her. ' j " Will you wish me a prosperous journey, Gladys ? I have taken your advice. I shall be gone a long, long while before you' see mo ugnin, for lam not quite clumsy enough to Stay and plead my cause in vain. T know that it would be useless to ask for more than friendship. Someone luore worthy than myself will cross your path in days to come, and try to turivit into his. If, so, believe that I shall wish you all happiness. Forgive me if I ask you not to trust to ambition ; but grand ideasare useless without everyday patience and heroism. There, don't be bothered, Gladys, dear ; it isn't your fault, only my big mistake. I'know I'm stupid and blundering ; but say good-bye. 1 must go." No reply—the girl is so taken by urprise.
Roy has a true man's heart, and Desists the temptation to take 1 one ,ast kiss; so he raises two cold hands Troni the fence upon which they are clasped, presses them to hie. lips like a Knight of old, and, ere Gladys can frame a single sentence, ha has gone. But the air seemed burdened with sadness, the gloaming less pleasant, nd a feeling of oppression.lingers 'behind. Gladys is glad to return to London. * * # * Five years have passed since Roy 'l'ivers said good-bye to Gladys Charlton. She has never heard anything of him since, though at first she half expected him to write. Now however, new faces and fresh hopes engross the lady doctor. Hoy's proIphecy appears likely to come true. jti ludys is already practising, but rumour says it will not be for long;, jand the busybodies are gossiping about her and another doctor, '"wondering when her wedding will cmne off," whether l)r Sternberg clears more than a thousand a year, how Ithcy will manage about Gladys' patients, and much more besides, though j Hermann and Miss Charlton have not y»t breathed a word of love to each other.
| Early summer is looming in the purple haze of distance, everyone longs for something fresh or sug'Restive of the country, and Islington flower-girls, ■ who stand where the pathway of Upper Street is broad and shady, find a ready sale for the clustering bunches of Lent-lilies, violets, and snowdrops. I Dr Gladys has just been requested to visit- a sick child, and she pauses .to buy -tho little one some primroses as she hurries along in the morning nnshiue. " Please, mum, I'm sure I'm that orry ; butt a lady wot's been here • visitin' have sent our doctor to see ur little un," said a poor woman who opened tho door at No. 23 Hack Court, in responce to Ur. Charlton's ummons. " Well, never mind," is the cheery reply ; " just give Lina these, Mrs Hemming, please, ®ntl say that I'll run in to-morrow. How is she?" •' Bather less feverish," suys Hermann Sternberg, Mil)., as his .tall figure appears in the doorway. Good morning, Miss Charlton ; I suppose I must abdicate in your avour ? " " Oh, no ; I haven't any desire to interfere. Lina and I are excellent friends ; but I'm going into Cornwall next week for a, lew days, and J shall be glad if you will attend ■well to her interests ; she's such a nice child, and her - mother is so poor," continues Gladys, as she and Dr Sternberg walk away together. (To be continued.)
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Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 7796, 12 April 1905, Page 4
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1,630LITERATURE. Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 7796, 12 April 1905, Page 4
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