AND A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 313, 11 January 1908, Page 4

AND A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM

T'he grey shadows iengiiieneil on th-' walls, and the air took on a chilly feeling as the lire sank in the grate, and lining its radiance, seemed .to catch the rellection of th- dullness all around. Outside th" wauine I'ghl give aui eerie touch to Hi" oivlMiKi.- of the gaunt, grey houses, and here and there feathery flakes of snow, freezing where they fell, flecked the roofs with white. A ighastly feeling seemed to pervade the atmosphere this Christinas Eve, us if the spirits of those long dead were hovering near the ; eartb in a vain wish to share again in its joys and sorrows, or to call these, there children, tell'ng. them something of the world beyond. The very noises in tinstreets seemed muffled,'and the falling snow deadened the clatter of the homes' hoofs ns the carriages flashed past the row of watching dwellings, bearing their human freight to scenes of feasting and mirth. i

Clarw Godfrey shivered slightly, and rousing herself from her apathy, thrust the poker into the mass of blackness in the grate, making the Haines htip and fantastic figures dance on Ihe walk The light fell across her ,I'aee, revealing in its mvcrtiiSn flb-k-r Hie dear en! mil. Inc. and burnishing the ruddy coils (had. 'i'"wii"il the,small, proud head. The eves veiimined in shadow, .and their look "f haunting shadow was apparent through the murky glonnj. and a touch of mclindiolv and exnl'csvon of mental suffering and weariness softened Ihe slowing lines of petulance and cynical hardness round the mouth; Her butterfly world of gay badinage would not have recognised Clare Godfrey in this weary, sad-eyed woman avith haggard mien and hungry look. . And yet the face was far more beautiful than in hours of ease and laughter. Cone were the glitter and the hard,, bright smile. Absent alike the cynical ■ twist, of the full lips, and the scornful Hash of the keen, blue eye, which seemed to mark all defects, and to strip the very clothes off the backs of those she hated. Tonight she wan just a woman weary, of her life, with a strange yearning, an unutterable sadness that hud smoothed the wrinkles of pride and prcjuiliee,«nnil written in fine characters a message of their own.

Presently she sat up. The silence oppressed her. That was the worst of Christmas. It engendered thought, and Clarice fancied she had no taste for r»tiection. For Christinas meant to her more than to the rest. It Jield two anniversaries: that of birth and—death. The birth of a new life and the death of hope. Three years ago! Then the world was very fair to her, and a bright future seemed opening before her. It was her wedding day! What a long •time it was since she was a girl at home! Clarice's head drooped on her hand, and her thoughts travelled back over the years between.

Once again she saw herself a happy laughing girl, a child in thought, careless of "time, and ignorant of life's pitfalls and dark corners. She was at home in the green woodlands, with the pine trees everywhere, and in their tops the merry birds, whose song gladdened the air nil 1 made Ihe h-art rejoice. Oh! those long, long davs of sunshine, with the blue skv above flecked with fleecy clouds, and the sleepy river rippling lazily, by the meadows, where gay young lambs and foals gambolled amid the lush green grass and sweetly-smelling rlover! .Even the autumn sadness was mellowed like the russet tinted leaves, and winter was n jollv king, with sound of steel on ice, and went of earth as hounds dashed over the freshly turned-lip loam. Where now were the clear, cold spells, when the breath froze and the hedges sparkled with crystals in the wintry sun? Where the joyous hope of spring, that saw the young green shoot push from the stem and wake the world anew to life and laughter? Were they, indeed, all gone, or was the change in her? Had she lost all the zest of youth, had her Wood turned chilly and her hopes crumbled to 1 the very dust?

Her marriage day! How long ago, and vet how strangely near! A Christmas wedding! It had been an innovation, hut how bright the promise! How lie had worshipped her! Her Jack, the idol she had dreamed of! And all wan merrv as a marriage bell. Those early days were sweet. The world, indeed, well lost, and he not carina lie lived for her, hung on-her every look, and she, unthinking, Look it all at due. And summer came. They had "one back to town, and there the iisum round of. social lite gathered them in She felt the spell, mid gratefully endured the pleasant (lattery. How swiftly still the time was wont to pass! Unconsciously they drifted slightly then, and slie, halt invalid, relaxed the social world, and let him go alone. Still there were left their happy hours of chat, and whispered tales ol Happiness near due, and she looked forward to their coming 'hild. ..,,., Her baby! Ah! if it had lived! And as she sat, she telt the air grow keen. Without, the solum of music came, and rose and fell, tac distance lending glamour to the song. Clare started. What was that son"? "Peace on earth, goodwill to men.' She sat up- The words had mused her, but in her angry heart she chained them to a theme more like her mood. " 1 come not to bring peace, but a sword," she mattered mockingly, and her face hardened as she lived again the morning's scene. She had remembered, but he scemmglv had not. The time of anniversaries was past for him. Perhaps he had re--1 grets If it were all to do again-who knows' Would she—or he—would they not make a change? And yet she had not meant to be so hard. But a chance word, a question, had stirred up the bitterness, and her sharp tongue Hashed out the words that led to strife and jarr. His CoiintessV Well, the term was common, and he did not seem to mind. But was it prudent? Was it even kind of her to stab him? Not that she believed in anything but friendship, and that flattering sense of pride iu the possession of a beauty's favour. .No, what- had really hurt was his inditference when she made her complaint, against Sir Wilfrid. He had rawed bis brows and chaffed, and recommended her to keep her men in better order." It mattered little, but she would have liked Jack to have scolded her, to have lectured her, not passed off as if it did not matter. And then he smiled, and said she mast have rest.. How did the country strike her? No word of his accompanying her Was said, and so she scorned'the offer. Did he not care, or had she misjudged him? She could not tell. She felt ill, out of sorts. She had no tarte for gaiety or laughter. And "so she had come here to dream alone. No actual ill and gripped her, but a dull, mental pain, that well-nigh broke her down. She slept again.

Her maid stole in and drew tin' curtains close, and settled lire and light, anil still.Clare slumbered. The hours wore (in, and presently beneath hor very window the chant resumed, " Hark the herald angels sing. Clory to the newborn King!" The sleeper moved, and sis she dreamed, she seemed to see in a vision the face of her lost baby, wearing the serene and holy look of Ihe inlant Saviour whose birth the waits proclaimed. As the strain* of the hymn died away, and gave place to those of " It clinic upon the midnight air, That glorious song of old," Clarice half woUe. and lmlf threw out her hands, as if to grasp something she saw in her dream, lint only emptiness was Ihere, and with a crv of despair she buried her face in her 'hands and sobbed aloud. "Oh! mv baby, my lost boy!" she cried. "Why did he leave me alone these rears ago? How .piieily he sleeps. fearing nothing. I ding nothing, while hi- mother eats out her heart in vain longing for him. Vet had I the power, would I dare to bring him back? To whit? A divided home? To become hard and worldly? No, rather air, thing than that, lint how I miss him! Mow should I hey guess who see me smiling in the world's gay throng how great a load at' misery lies beneath that smile? If he had lived? Then .lack and I might, still liave been a happy, loving pair. How the dava come back when lie and I delighted to visit the nursery, now chill and drear and empty! The nursery Hie name attracts me now. And vet • lack thoueht me cold, and even heartless, when baby died. I could not speak my grief, even to my husband, and my heart seemed turned to stone."

Quietly she rose and left Ihe brightly lit room'. Crossing the hall, she paused beside another door, half fearing to open it. lest, she met a ghost. At. last she entered, then stopped back again. A lire Inirncil slowly on the hearth, and shed its warm L'lnn- round the empiv rooih. In the far' corner stood Ihe vacanl cot, and close beside it an old secretaire. With hasty steps Clare hurried lo it. and fulling on her knees, buried her face in the white coverlet and tried to pray. Then rapidly, as if she had nought something she almost feared to iind again, she searched the bureau.

■ From it she- drew out a tiny packet, "•Inch she bore with trcinbtin..• li-iml-'"l." the firelight. Drawing „,, tlie chr. -•die sat down ..lowly, •,, j„ „ ~,.,,.„„ I In: truth had staggered her. Her hu.v band's heart was aching like her own He, too, had mourned the little babv boy, had changed his room to di-cp beside the cot. And she had wronged lion. She would humble herself to him. and ask his love again. And gently, an the hour of midnight chimed, peace stole on her, mid Clarice slept again.

A deeper silence fell, unbroken save by the quiet, even sound of tranquil breathing. Then, noiselessly, the room door opened wide, and a 'manVi figure suddenly appeared, lie paused a second on the threshold, seemed lo turn again, then quickly came on till he reached Ihe hearth. In the deep chair, close drawn up to the. lire, lay Clarice, all unconscious, and at rest. He stood beanie her. and as he noticed the sad lines that grief had traced, and the. eyelashes moist with recent tears, his own eyes softened. Then his gaze left her fair face and I ravelled to her hands, which still held fast a baby's tiny shoe. And on his face there shone "the light that never was by sen »r land." and' with great tenderm-Hs he stooped and gathered up flu- broken, stricken figure in his long arms, and rained warm kisses on the upturned face. ' ' W : th a smothered, sigh. Clarice turned to him and nestled close. Then slowly, gradually, she came back to life again, and ns she did, she heard as in a il'vam the voice she used to love thrill her again as he whispered, touching the shabby relic in her anger grasp, " Clarice, I loved him too."

"•Oh, Jack, forgive!" she whispered, as the tears came welling forth, but with their pain was mingled now an exquisite sense of jieace. lyong they sat thus, watching the shadows lengthen and the dark night succeed the grey, until a beam of clear white light cast its silvery radiance through the uncurtained pane, and their eyes beheld the glory of the heavens rise in her soft, still brightness. Then lie rose, and lifting his wife to her feet, he passed an arm about her shoulders and brougluj her face again to his, murmuring as he stooped, "And a little child shall lead them," while fur away the. waits carolled anew the hymn of love anil praise—"Adeste (Ideles, Veni triu'mphantee." —J. D. Kusscl-Norrie.