A Question of Gratitude.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 8172, 3 August 1906, Page 4

A Question of Gratitude.

The young man at the desk frowned darkly as he read the letter before him. He held it at a distance, then drew it closer. And his frown drew darker. " That's a fine proposition," he growled under hia breath. " Wonder if he is aware that this is the twentieth century t And what on earth am I to do abont it? " He stared helplessly at the closely written •heet. Then be rend the letter through aloud. The handwriting was small and cramped, bat he seemed quite familiar with tt. " I write to let you toow," he read " that I've had another of those bad tarnß, and while it was no worse than the others, I take it for a warning. I'm going to get my house is readiness to more out. This isn't a bad place to stay in and I'd be contented here for quite a while yet, bat I'm not counting on the future, I want to nut everything in Madmen and I'm going to begin with you. No doubt you have expectations, and perhaps I have encooraged them. Bat I'm going to make things very clear to yoa. You have proteased considerable gratitude to me for what I have done for yon. I'll test your gratitude now. I believe I once told you that I had a oousin Mary, who was my playmate when we were children together. She died several years ago, leaving a daughter. I helped Mary on numerous occasions, and promised her I would help her daughter. I htm done so. I have paid her expenses through college and I mean to provide for bet further. Oat on one condition. I want you to marry her. Perhaps you will fail to appreciate that this is the highest proof of confidence I have yet given you. No doubt you will consider me a hateful tyrant. Consider me what you like—my mind is made op. You know me. You know what my whims mean to me. Yoa know I am a adamant when once I make np my mind. The day you write me or cable me that you and Emily have agreed to wed, that day I will set aside a trust fund for you and my cousin's daughter of £50,000. If you fail to win her you will get nothing, I am going to allow you all the time I feel I can safely name—and it seems to me quite sufficient. I figure it ont that this letter should reach you by the 10th. I must have results by the first day of the coming month. It seems to me that this is ample time. You have youth, good health, good looks, a good education and very faiir expectations. Hasten your wooing, my boy. I want to know that the dear girl is in sate hands. If you will go to my lawyers, Brigbam, Clayton A Minch, yoa will be told her address. Don't disappoint me. This may be—no doubt will be—my last request." The young man dropped the letter on the desk and stared at it blankly. " This is terrible," he murmured, "What am I to do 1" He looked around as if seeking aid from the office walls.' "And I owe so much to this dear, old unreasonable man. His last request. Yet how can I bring myself to do it? " He picked up the letter again. "He has given me ten days for my wooing. Ten days. Hang it all, if it was only the money, I'd know to do mighty soon. But I owe everything to him—a home, education, the very clothes I wear 1 And be •ays it's his last request. He might have called this only one. His cousin's daughter. I scarcely knew he had a cousin. I never heard him mention her but once. What can she be like? But what difference does it make ? Hang it all I I felt so happy, CO well pleased with the world!" He struck the desk with bis fist and scowled again. If I refuse it means the loss of my position ben, of my hopes of advancement, it means the loss of my benefactor's regard. And there is some one else." He flushed redly, " Now I know there is some one else." He sat very still for a few moments. Tien he suddenly arose and potting the letter in his pocket tamed towards the wardrobe and took down bis hat. " I'JI go and see tbe lawyers," he said. " Perhaps I wiil find that the girl is already engaged to someone else. Or married. I'd rather she was married. Much rather. And he turned towards the door. A light rap stopped him " Come in," he said. The door opened and a young woman entered. She was a pretty young woman, with a pretty hat and a pretty frock, and a smile that was decidedly attractive. She smiled sow as she caught sight of theyoongman. "Ah, Mr. Somers," she cried, "areyou in?" The young man had started at sight of his caller. " I'm very glad to say I am in," he replied. "Bat yoa were just going out." , He replaced his hat. "It was in connection with a matter of little consequence," he said. Then beremrmbered, "At least, it is a matter that can wait. Pray be sealed." " Thank you. You have a pleasant office." " I find it so. Of coarse I have considerable time to admire it." The girl laughed. "Admire it while you can," she said. •; Mr. Garver says yoa are doing very well ttr a beginner." "I am glad Mr. Garver thinks so. It seems pretty slow climbing for me." " Then you will appreciate every successive height that you attain." How charming die looked, how sweet and good. He buttoned hi 3 coat nervously and the rustle of the letter in his inner pocket •track a chill to his heart. " This is the first time yoa honored me with a call." ' " I promised yoa I would look in at yoar new quarters, yoa remember." " Of eeurae, I remember, but I was afraid you wouldn't come." Bhe hesitated and looked at him with a curious expression. '• I was in the building and saw your card on the door. It seemed unkind to pass it t>y." "It would have been very nnkind. And that of coarse you couldn't be." She flushed slightly. " I had called at Mr. Oarver's office. He has been very kind. He promises to find me a situation where I can do copying and perhaps act as foreign correspondent.'' The young man flushed. " Is that necessary ? " be asked. " Yes," she answered, " I think it is. I can't live on charity, yoa know. I have an excellent education and feel that I should utilise it. It will make me happier to know that I am independent." She laughed at bis serious face. "You don't happen to want an amanuensis, do you ? " He shook hia head. " Not yet." " She has excellent references and is willing to come on trial. He shook his head again. " I don't like it," be said. " Don't like what, Mr. Somers ? " " Don't like yoar bantering on this subject. Don't like the ides of yoar doing office work," headded boldly. Her clear eyes steadily regarded him. " You are unusually serions this morning, Mr. Somen. Has anything happened ? Have you received bad news ? " " Yes," he answered. "I am sorry. Perhaps my call is not opportune." She half arose. " No, no," he quickly said. " I considor it quite providential." She laughed merrily.

That sounds almost desperate. Well, w< moat make the most of it. It may be a lonj time before another such opportunity ocours." "What do you mean by that? " Mr. Garver thinks lifi has secured a desirable place for me as foreign correspondent with the Acme Watch Company. They are about to establish a new place, ami u nt to move their clerical force there. It louts like ft fine chance for me." —- He stared at her. " Yoa are going away." "Why yes. I must go away if I take the Situation." " Going away," he murmured. Then be teemed to take a sudden resolution. " Miss Selwyn." "Yes Mr. Somers." " I want to ask your advico, I—how long have I known you, Miss Selywn ? " " It must be all of four months." " Yes. Four months, but I seemed tr. have known you much longer than that, much longor." " It's only four months. I met you the first time soon after I left college." " Yeß. And do you think. Miss Selwyn, that a four months' friendship warrants nn in asking your advice in a matter that very closely and and seriously concerns mj future ? " "We are very good friends, Mr. Somers, It you think my advice will be of any service to you it will be freely given. But am I thi one to consult." " The very one, Miss Selywn." She drew down her fair brows a little M this. Then a gentle smile rippled across hei face. " I am listening," she said. The young man squared his chin and drew a long breath. " It is a question of gratitude," he began. " Not of duty, please understand. If it were duty I could settle the question very quickly. But this is more difficult." The girl nodded. " I understand, Mr. Somers." "Yes." He paused a moment. "81? father and mother both died when I was very young and left me quite alone and quite friendless. Then an acquaintance of my father's took me in his keeping and fed me and clothed me and educated me. No father Could have done more for me. All I have 1 owe to my benefactor and he has asked no thing in return—until now. I have seen him only at rare intervals, his health is not good and he spends much vfhis time abroad, but I heat from him quite often—ns often as he is in the mood to write. Yesterday a letter came that greatly disquiets me. He tells me that he believes his days are numbered—but tbis he has told me several times before. It is not the premonition that worries me so much—for I believe he is in a nervous state that often fills him with gloomy forebodingsit is a test of my gratitude that he asks, and asks in a way that makes it very hard for me to know just what to do." The girl'B clear gaze did not leave his face. "Does it require too much of a personal sacrifice? " she asked. He flushed. " It is hard to explain," he answered. "He asks me to do somethb-g which hurts my pride, that wounds my feeling, that that makes me appear contemptible to myself." "But, surely," says the gii), "you do not hesitate ? " " Think of the gratitude I owe him." "But your benefactor does not own you." "It seems that he thinks he docs. And he is old and ill and believes he is dying." 44 Still you should not hesitate," She paused. "No doubt he offers you some reward if you comply with his wishes ?" 44 Yes : a large reward. Wait. It concerns some one else equally with myself. There was a brief silence. " You must decide this question for yourself, Mr. Somers," said the girl. "Ic&n't put myself in your place." He struck the table with his hand. "I have decided," he cried. "Lotthe consequences be what they may, I will refuse bi r nroposition." T e girl smiled, and there was strong approval in her expression. " I think you have done right," she said. "Oh, I'm sure of that now," he «ried. His mood has chauged, his face has brightened. "I have a benefactor, too," said the girl, "He has put me under the deepest obligations. I hope he will never test my gratitude as yours has done." " Then you can sympathise with me," he said, " I was afraid you did'nt." " Perhaps I forgot for the momcut how nearly my own personal dependence resembled yours." The young man stood up and steadied himself with his hand on the desk. " Misß Seiwyn," he said and his voico was low and trembled a little. "I don't want you to think me overbold, nor think I have taken advantage of your presence here. But you are going away and I feel that 1 iliust tell you something that I have had on my mind ever since I first met you. Can you guess what it is? lam poor, iuy prospects are not alluring, yet I feel that I will conquer fate, and-rand what I want to ask is this—will you vait for he, Alma.untiri can come to you and ask you to share my home and my life? " Her clear ey<?% clouded. She turned her face a little aw&j. Then she suddenly put out her hand. "Yes," she said, 44 I will wait." A moment later she laughed merrily. 44 What is it, Alma ? n 41 Something that strikes me as being Scij funny. I had a letter day before yesterday from my benefactor. He toid me to call thi.-' morning at the office of young Henry Souicr*. 4 He has something to toll you,' he wrol* Can you wonder that I am amused. Is—is there anything else to have to tell ? " 44 Nothing," he answered. 41 Why that seemß very strange. Told you to come to my office ? May I ask the name of your benefactor?" 44 Why, yes. He was my mother's cousin His name is Robert Humphrey." The young man gasped. 14 Robert Humphrey. And you are his cousin's daughter? But her name is Kmily." "Myname is Alma Emily. Emily was my mother's name. But what is tho matter?" For the young man has dropped back ir, bis chair and was holding his sides. "Oh, this is too good I" he cried. l?o----bert Humphrey is my benefactor, too! And that test of my gratitude was marriage with you, dearest girl 1" " What! " cried the dearest girl. " And hesent me here 1 Why—why, he must have known all the time." "Of course he did. It's his little joke. And a beautiful joke, too." Then the girl laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. " But you gave me up." "You advised me to." Then they laughed together. " I think," said the young man presently, "that I will write out that cablegram." lie bent over his desk for a moment. " There," he said, " How will that do ?" She took the slip ami read it aloud ; " 'Ten days enough. We both send love.'"