CAUSES AND AN EFFECT

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 258, 24 October 1908, Page 4

CAUSES AND AN EFFECT

(By Peggy Webling, in M.A.I'.) They met in Atlantis, a garden city in the county of Kent. He was » young Canadian, with clear blue eyes—eyes as as the prairie skies in mid-July—a fair skin, tanned brown, and a frank, ingenuous smile; a man of few words and " horse sense"; well satisfied with himsclt, but keenly alive to new impressions.

.She was an English girl, with a reserved manner, a melancholy expression, and all the possibilities of beauty anil charm repressed or neglected. Her heavy, l>row» hair, was always twisted into a hard knot under the shadow of a black ribbon bow, her dresses were badly cut and invariably made of dark material, the dull wold "serviceable" seeming Lo be printed on every breadth; she rarely smiled; her eyes were the eyes of eighteen—childish, quick, inquisitive—but her manners were thoje of ;i shy. slightly lutreil woman. She was the youngest daughter of Professor Dicey, and ihe was .Mr. Herbert Mayne, of Fort .Mayne. Briti-.h Columbia. I'rofcssor Dicey had been the school and college friend of Herbert's lather, whieih explains the reason of the young man's appearance at Atlantis.

" My dad told ane to rout you out," he had cheerfully told the professor, "just to let you know that lie wasn't planted yet, alld he hoped you were also on the sunny side of ihe turf.'' The .professor elongated his lips—hi; was a dry, biO'iied maiii, with*iu> gense of humour-and trusted i!n« sun of hi-, old friend would make himself at ho»!i\ lie feared AU.mti.s had few attractions to oiler to the ordinary tourist, it was tihe haven of deep study and hard work. "That's all right," said Herbeit Mavue, "l can make myself at home 'most anywhere. Don't you worry about me." "J regret that neither Mrs. Dicey nor my elder daughters are iu Atlantis." added his host, "their interests lie in other directions. They pay me occasional visits.

'• 15ut Mis s Kulalia- is a permanent hoarder?" asked Herbert, glancing at the silent girl. "Two-thirds of her time is spent iu Atlantis," said the professor.

Herbert glanced again at Hiss Eulalia. Slie made liim curious. There was a subtle attraction in her quiet, aloof milliner. He was known, in i'ort Ala vile, as " the most popular boy in town," and Miss Eulalia's apparent iudiiVeieiiee piqued his vanity. He mistook lier painful shyness and diffidence for pride, lie found himself, on the third day of his visit, getting a little nervous ill lier presence, lie was under the impression she was very clever, and, in liis own words, "a breezy boy is always scared of a brainy girl.'' "Il'ow do you like working on the land, Miss Eulalia'!" a.sked Herbert, when hj« found her gardening 011 tin morning of his sixth day. "It is a healthy employment, Mr. Alavne," s fie replied. " I always work under my father's directions. We glow our own. fruit and vegetables." "Don't you go in for flowers!" asked Herbert. " My father does not care tor (lowers," leplied Eulalia. "So you're nothing of a botanist,

"The seienee which treats of plants?! OJ). ves. I've studied botany. Imt 1 | never connect it with ilowers." •' My word! Isn't it the .same thing?" Perhaps it was the amusement in his voice., perhaps it was his keen, enrious glance, and perhaps it was only the unconscious appeal of youth to youth, lint Eulalia suddenly blushed scarlet ami freely: "No! it isn't the same thing at all! ilotany is dry and i idiculous-lists of dull words iliat make tine's head ache--hut Ilowers are lovely and indc«mbable. I didn't discover that until *e came, to the country." "I -.have made a discovery myself since I came to the country,'" said Mer- ! Bert quickly. j "" What is it?" she asked, looking into | his face. | "That you are lovely ami iudeser.bI able yourself—do you know it?"

For a full five seconds they looked into each other's eyes, bewildered with , the sudden emotion that his words had ; awakened, and then a faint little smile ; hovered over lier lipjs.

"Why did you say that? is it true':" "1 swear it is!*' "What is the use of being lovely:'' she asked. "The use?" he repeated wouderingly. " I don't understand you." " My father finds a u»p in everything, ' said Kulalia. "lie says utility is Lb-' motive cause of all things. IVrhaps you never think of Cause and Kll'ect?" " Can't say I do." The girl's expression pu/./led him. It was like a child's trying to find words to explain a troublesome lesson. "I have always been taught to consider the .suhjeet," she continued slowlv. " I have lived all my life under lhf» shadow of " she hesitated for a word ami then brought it out, with a burst—"a Cause!" "For instance ?'" s aid Herbert.

"Well, my father believes- in the Cause of Education and Utility. My mother lias many Causes. "When I wa.s a child it was physical culture. She gave me a little* hammer, J remember, on my •seventh birthday. What ilo you think it was for?"

•'To hit your poor little thumbsV" he suggested. "Xo, to break the ice in my bath." " Anyway, it's all over now," he said con-solingly. "'ls iU ,J cried Eulalia. "Mother Relieves in Dress Keform. Look at me! I never wear anything pretty, and 1 love hats."

Why don't you make a break and rig yourself out?'' iftked Herbert. "1 have 110 money." '• Say. you're .bluffing! Not a single dollar to call' your own?"

"Xot a shilling, *' she answered grimly. "My sisters get a small allowance lrr cause they have learned to spend it with discretion. Kmelie believes in the Tern- . perauce Cause, Adela goes in for Food | Reform. .Mary is an ardent Sulfragist, but none of the others agree with her tactics, so they ijuarrel about it all day long." "Pleasant fam'ly!" observed Herbert. "Vou think we're horrid?" she asked, with a return to her usual manner. " I don't know why I s aid these, things. It was very wrong of me. but you look'd so kind " l 'My dear child!" exclaimed Herbert. IFe took her hand, in it* big ungainly glove, and held it ill both of his own. She resisted for a second, and then her little lingers curled round his, t|uickly, | tightly, and were, pulled away. She i turned towards the house without word, ami was gone. j

'l'lie weeks wliicli foll.nveil were the most amazing and beautiful weeks of liulalia's girlhood. She awakened to the possibility of happiness, realising her own youth in the jov- nf enmpaniousliip—friendship—love. 'Herbert, \l:iyne. ipiiek alio decisive in any tiling lie did. made no secret nf his infatuation: but the idea of such a contingency had never entered Professor Dicey', head, lie looked upon hi- tluuu'iler as a mere child, and the Canadian as a young barbarian, wlio had to l e tolerated for the -ake of an old friendship. The more -lie saw of Herbert Maviv. the more Kulalia appreciated ' his strength of character and innate -in-oe-rity. He tauyli'L her to the brightness of the world, learning himself to value the undeveloped depths of li.-r aU'ei'tinnate nature.

It was not until the arrival of -Mrs. .Dicey. bubbling over with (.lie Cause ol' the Kindle. Li/e. I hat a jarring note broke into the mebxlv of that rare summer. Kulalia: had nut expected her mother. When that ladv tramped in at the garden ,uate~the cull of simplicity eonipelled her lo carry her mvn bay and a couple ol iiijm 'fur sleeping out nl doors—site iound th«» .uirl sitting under the trec>, with a strange \mriy man .stretched at li**r feet.

Kalalia sprang up ami threw her arms round her mother's neck. " Herbert Mayno -my mother." -h----said, Irving to capture Lhe rug- aiel bag--" I'm so pleased lo see you. dear!'' .Mrs. Dicey was a. woman of .piick perception. She glanced fi.m Knlalia to the bble-eyi'd A\'esl ernei'. " Kiilalin," she said '■ wlier:' is your Usual eomposiire? What has become of your -implicityKulalia • lakt jll' thai liat !" •Ti'RYif rushed into the girl'- eves. II."l.erl saw. willi a pang of rage, li.nv h.■ >' sen-iiivc moiitii i[ui\cre.l a- -lie -ilenll." obeyed her mother'- command. I| u:,a hat of lhe Westerner's- a broadbrimmed cowboy hat of line grey fe' ! : through the narrow silk baud on lhe left. -ide. she had thrust -a scarlet ipu'l. and on the right was a handful of naming red poppies. '■ I am astounded!" said Mrs, Dicev. glaring ut the brilliant lwt.

" Miss Kulalia has an elegant taste in millinery," observed Herbert. A great idea Hashed into the girl's mind. She touched the poppies, as she slowly drew theni out of the silk ba-jd, with caressing lingers. "In future, my dear, you will regard yourself as a member oi the no-hat brigade," said Mrs. Dicey. Her daughter did not answer. Her mind was revolving round the (treat Idea.

Herbert Mayne, oil the day following ll'rs. Dieey's return, made a formal proposal to the professor and his wife for the hand of Kulalia. He was firmly, coldly,deliberately refused, and look the refusal, as lie had taken the other big events of his life, calmly and cheerfully.

" I'm young-," he said, " and Eulalia's younger. There'* no need to rush it. Guess I'll go home aind work. If she is true to me, 1 swear Jl'll be true to her.' : On the day that Herbert left Atlantis, while Professor and Mrs. Dicey were still congatulating themselves "on the departure of a man without a Cause, Kulalia announced that s he was going to London. It was her intention to hire a room in the house where her sister ■'anet lived—Janet was the rabid Socialist of the family—and try to earn her own living. Jhe professor was indignant, but his wife was delighted. "I knew yeu would 1 weary of an idle lift 1 , spout in luxury!" she exclaimed. MYhen did you hear the will, my child? What are yon going lo -do?"' Kulalia answered, with Hushed checks, coolly and deliberately: " 1 aiii going to trim hats." "What?" cried Professor Dicey, m utter amazement. "It is the uuly talent I possess,'' .said Kulalia, still very bravely. "I hope lo become a milliner." "Miserable girl! ' gasped her mother. "Have you no love for Immunity); Have ypu no ideals? Have you no ambition?" " Ye*, said Kulalia, "J love humanity ;iml 1 love Herbert Mayne. 'My ideal is to be -happy and independent. My ambition is tu make a perfect hat!"

Kulalia Dicey, breathing the air of tii'edom and filled with the hopes of youth, rapidly develuped into a clever woman of business. Iter family's outlook changed with iher success, as is the way of lamily outlooks, from strong, disapproval to amused tolerance, ami Horn amused tolerance to inward jjride. It wis hard work, and she had many disappointment*, but her taste and originality, even in the days of her apprenticeship, marked her as an artist in all she did.

Her .sister -Janet., biding the hour of lealised iSociulism, became her partner. Iliev -engaged a couple of rooms, about two years after Kulalia'* emancipation, at the top of a house in the West End. Janet, who was very much older and ver ,V economical, interviewed the eustomors and kept the ; Kulalia free to give her whole attention | to tine creation of hats.

lt : was summer once again when Herbert Jlayne, following at last his numberless brief and devoted letters, read Hie simple legend 011 a small brass plate, " tulaliii. Hats," and climbed the stains to liulalia's showroom. Curio,site, excitement, delight, even a touch of'dreal made him .pause at the door. lie thought of the nervous, inexperienced gill he had left lieliiml, and lie found it impossible to reconcile the renieiubranc" ot lier simplicity and helplessness witli the clever aidiievements of the firm of Eulalia. Herbert himself was little changed, and when he entered the room it was with all his old soil-assurance. Sunlight glowed through the delicately shaded windows; tile colouring of tlie walls was pale and artisticthere were J,wo or three hats—mast-r----pieees-on white stands, and big bonis ot dowers. A lady was standing in the centre of the lloor, with her back to the li.-ht so that Herbert could not see her face. Her long, soft dress clung to her slendtr figure and trailed upou the ground; her liair was most elaboratolv arranged- she wore 110 jcirels, but a cluster of vivid carnal 1011s was tucked into her belt shi' was graceful, elegant, exquisite in every detail. There was a pulsiii" minute of silence between them, tJieu tlie young 'Canadian, with a voice that trembled in his slioek of admiration and surprise, spoke lier name " Eufali'a!" She came to meet him, and their niml, joined. He felt that she was trembling violently, and the. girl whom he had known the shy, loving, simplehearted girl—looked out of her eves, all unchanged by time and absence.' "You're so wonderful, so beautiful!" Eulaliar''"'" 1 ' " lm BC ' U ' ed ° f ' VOU '

•■Til,Ml vou (lnn't cm. for „ u . anv I<»iis«tv" she .said softly. "You don't want to many mo aft or all';" The old. thrilling note in-'her voicetli|. melody of love rippling under the words—swept him bad; into the past, lie saw her imee more iu. the garden of Atlantis, and lie thought of the Causes which had brought them together." '■ VWiy did you do it, my dear loveV III! asked, when she told Jiim tlie story her work and struggles iu London, worthy of you, Herbert," she answered' quietly; "to p„ )V( , that T tould understand the enthusiasm of a Cause tlie Cause of Happiness."