THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 264, 31 October 1908, Page 4

THE STORYTELLER.

f THE REWARD OF THE PEACEMAKER j (By Johu ltankine, in Tit-Biu.r j I. . "Xo, aunt, I'm not ill, but I collars . I am excited/' said Lilian Bcudal to the i lady with the soft blue eyes and alight j graceful figure who received her in the \ parlour of Brent Cottage. r ;:j .. ' v And what are you excited about?" ?- asked Miss Hester Scott. "That's what I've come to tell you. I wouldn't stoop to mention the matter, or even big name, to any other person. But 1 can trust you. It was this way. The County Hunt Ball was last week. Harold couldn't go, and he didn't wish me to go. He saw the selfishness of' that wish, so he withdrew it, and con-; sented to my going on condition that I didn't dance with Maurice Denison, . a man who was sure to be present. For reasons that he would not explain, lie | strongly insisted that I should avoid' Denison. I didn't know the person, so I the injunction never caused me •!; thought. But at the ball I met Mi. i TJeufaon, a handsome and agreeaV.e \ young man. The other girls were glar-! ingly keen for his favours. Personally I felt an instant dislike towards him, but—l say it modestly—he showed a marked preference for my company. I danced with him several times." "To spite the other girls?" "No. Well, perhaps there was something of that in it; however, Harold came to hear of it, and last night he aßked if I had any explanation to offer. I lired up at the cool, masterful way; in which he spoke. He asked as a right' what he should have begged as a favour. j He seemed to be confounding the term j •sweetheart' with the term 'slave.' 1| told him so, and I said no end of hot, stinging words besides. I didn't mean one or them, really, and I was so sorry when I saw his face turn white. I couldn't take it all back, though I alj most cried as I realised how much my foolish words were hurting him. He ' v listened in silence till I finished, then he' s aid quietly that he didn't mind the bitter things I had said about him. He ; would forgive and forget that at once; hut that until I said I was sorry for having danced with Maurice Denison ne would not trouble me with his presence. Then he turned away. I was home before I remembered that I had his ring - on my finger. I would have taken it - - off and handed it to him on the spot if j I had remembered in time." '. ■' •■ What a mercy we don't remember all the spiteful, unworthy things we might have done till the chance of doing 5 them has passed! Heaven is kinder to us than we deserve." "What a queer thing to say, aunt! Aren't you on my side? I was so sure you would he," and Lilian looked reproachfully into fier aunt' s eyes. "You can always rely on your aunt being on your side, dear. But give Harold Brewster fair play. In -any ease, . is Maurice Denison worth a quarrel with Harold Brewster, who has made you the if envy of every girl in the county by '" asking you to be his bride? His love \, for you need 9 no proving." J "So," whispered Lilian, relenting!/. r -' y "I am really deeply sorry about it, for Iji I love Harold more than ever. But I f . have that hot blood of the Rendals. It *- is a heart-breaking heritage. How often '\ I have wished I were like you, aunt, >\ with a sweet, long-suffering nature that t - nothing ever disturbs. You have escaped >* , lire's worst regrets by that sunny dis- / position of yours." j; "Have I?" said Miss Scott, softly. "Listen, dear. Many years ago a girl i - of your age had a sweetheart—one af <"■ the noblest. Their love \va 9 sweet, their wooing should have been happy. ] - It would have been Tiut for the girl's £ proud temper. One summer they foi.njb:',,, «d two of a party on the yacht of a f & ' friend. The cruise was delightful, but i» the limited area of a ship the girl seemed to find more opportunity thin ever for tantalising her lover.. One s _" tfaj there was a culminating quarrel, in f? which the man, wearied of the woman s L wilfulness, took his full share. ThcreP ' after they never addressed each other t save when common politeness compelled. j* One day an accident happened. They f~ ' were exploring the fiords of Norway, *r and were running under u pre'eipitofis Jr cliff, with a deep treacherous current 5, below. "The ship suddenly lurched, the girl lost her foothold, and was lifted p elcar over the side into the swirlinz 1 ■ sea.

"The situation called for a nerve \ that not crery man possesses. There were many brave men on board, but even they paused a moment to count the eham.es. That moment wa 8 enough to let the girl's sweetheart dive alone ■ int» the white-crested cauldron. It was ._ a long and dangerous task. For a considerable time there was more of fear than of hope among the watchers on board. At last, by the mercy of Providence, the girl wa s rescued. Both speedily recovered. The girl was about to thank he r preserver o n the old footing of sweethearts. He received thanks politely, hut coldlv. His af.itudc surprised her till she'realised that he was still taking her at her angry words, and was waiting for them to V* withdrawn. Despite the debt she owed Mm, the debt of her life preserved at the risk of his own, she would not allo.v herself to he humbled. The yachting trip euded, and so did that love stoiv. .The girl came through it with a smile ,on her lips and an ache in her heartan ache that there is to this dav." Miss Scott's voice ended in a chocking sob. Lilian had listened with eyes in'tent on the speaker. Xow she "twined her arm s round her aunt's, neck. " I know who that girl was, auni." " Yes, dear ; you know who that girl was. You arc the only one in whom I have ever conKded. For the sake of the lesson that my bitter experience should teach you I have unlocked the inmost chamber of mv heart."

It nas a bright spring morning. In ail out-of-the-way n o<ik in Uowdcn Wood, Lilian Reiid.il lay at full length —her fa«» testfßg on her folded arms, her arnra resting on the green sward. .Shctay motionless, save that now and agaht she seemed to quiver as with a greo-t sob. Suddenly s he started up and rested 0] her elbow; the hot tears were streaming <lown her chwks. She had been sure of privacy in the wood at that earlv hour. But some people were approaching : the echo of thei r voices was wafted on the wind : the first faint sound sufficed for Lilian to recognise the familiar voice of Harold Brewster, She must not on any account he seen. Tier appearance would have surprised anyone. To Harold Brewster it would have been eloquent ol things if she were determined he should never know. She- speaker approached ; Harold Brewster and his Uncle Kenneth passed with unseeing eyes. Hut just on the other side of the sheltering shnililiciv they halted. "It is selfish in the extreme.'' Kenneth Brewster was saying. ■• Why should you desert me after so many 'vear* together* You will have all' l" possc,s/ : '2s(cyKre necessary to the hap»iiiiv» „f ■o&sMaia>. Why should you go; .*„,„■ resofte is. sudden, ami <« sen«lf, s> as sudden. I don't -wish to wir e ~ vo „ r confifleii.ee. I.f you can't give ( i( . 1 .., it. But your case shevvw all lm . ', vm ' touts, of an Edcji-ohl tihvr M . j. jt . t lonian.!"-

it\ * vwi«smy» . ul , W eied u,,... ukl lJr.<;«:>*<4':). delunuM' lV •'.iVe. k flu <li<r,ace 1,, tli,. admis--don% l=hc woinw Mav . bl . wort]l it al |. vrttm, we. are yoirag we are always sure silo a. But hoa r me a moment Your wielc wa,s, once h\ Hie same wood as vou are navx'. I a ,l a swenthcart, worth-.-«vcn to st»nd alongside/ of yours. She wus quite, young; ,1 wasn't much older. I was just old saoa-ft to think myself wise, lwt not old enuflgh to know better than to take a giri at lier worii. Our last quarrel was on board tlie vaelit of a friend amid tl» fiords of Xorway. Just after ottr quarrel there was an accident, her life was i u danger. 1 lent a hand m the saving of her; when she revived she MisQied to thank me and forget our quarrel. Thoujrh I loved her passionately. I was cad enough t'. cut he r to the quirk; I indulged my pride at (lie expense of her'feelings. Our voyage and our friendship ended together. I went on* ou a long tour abroad, returned home, and settled in f'owden Hall. Now I am just a u old bachelor, past my liest. and witb the golden age of love behind me. I realise liow much love adds to a man's life, and 1 have missed it. For thirty years I might have ben the happiest man in the world, whereas Illy days have, been colourless and cheer, less, all through a course of folly which you seem bent on repeating.'' There was no answer when KenneMi. Brewster ended. TTarold moved slowly,; though fully, away. !ii s untie following him. Lilian was left alone, her mind dazed by Ihe multitude and velocitv of her thoughts. Tint it was not of ITaro:.) Brewster or of herself she was thinking. Tfer head was full of plain. Til. That same afternoon, when Lilian w.is ■ sitting alone, Mr. Kcnueth Brewster wai.'

announced, lie was an uld friend, of her father's and she gave liim a welcome worthy of hi* claim, though there wnsi ;i strong suspicion in her mind as to' what his unexpected visit meant. •■Father i, out," she said, pleasantly. "I am his sole representative; but, i suppose I don't count? But now you are here you must stay to dinner. Father will lie home in time for tint. He would never forgive you ior going .without his seeing you; nd he would never forgive me lor allowing you." "But 1 haven't come to see your father. I have come to see you about a delicate" matter, a matter demanding diplomacy. And I am no diplomat. I am here without Harold's knowledg", much less his consent. I understand that you and he have quarrelled. Thai is no concern of an old man, and you are going to resent my interference. But 1 hope you won't. I repeat that you two have quarrelled. I don't know aliout what, but I'll swear it's about a trifle. I have come as a peacemaker to ask you for my s ake to make it up 'with Harold. I don't know on whose side th • blame lies; I dare say you both have decided and differing opinions on the point. But may 1 take it, Lilian, that at least vou once loved Harold?

Lilian blushed and, oh, so gently, nodded.

"May I put it in the .present tense? You still love Harold?" Lilian blushed and nodded again. "You needn't blush, my dear. It is for an old man's sake I want you to «e your influence. Fruitless love and wounded pride have made Harold impervious to every appeal of reason. It is in such an hour that many a young fellow goes wrong. You have it in your power to draw him home or drive him hence. I beg you to use that power on behalf of an old man who doesn't want to lose the only living link he has with earth; the boy he has kept since he was a child he wishes to retain to cheer his old age." Standing on the hearthrug Lilian had listened silently.

"Mr. Brewster," she answered, "1 have a confession to make, a thing you will be annoyed to hear and that I should be ashamed to tell. You were in Cowden 'Wood this morning." "Yes. Were you?"

"Yes. You stood near to where I rested, and I heard every word y»u| said." "Y'ou were welcome: it will save n\c repeating it now. That was one of the two purposes for which I came." "What was the other?" < " To ask you to make it up with your sweetheart. The longer these things last the more hitter those concerned become." "But you haven't become bitter?" "Of course I haven't. But there are two in every quarrel, and in my case all the right was on the other side; I dared not try to make it up. There's a limit even to my folly and audacit/. Then the time came when it was too late." "Did your sweetheart diet" "Die? Heaven forbid!" "Then if she just got married, she could not have loved you in the right way, and you were probably well rid of her." "But she didn't marry either." "And your old sweetheart is alive and unmarried? Pardon me. Mr. Brewster, what did you say you came here for 1" "To beg* you to make friends with vour sweetheart"

"Why don't you go and make friends with your own?"

The abrupt, unexpected question temporarily deprived old Kenneth Brewster of speech. "Why don't I?" he. mechanically t» peated! "Why, bless you. child, you don't understand my case at all." "1 do—just about as much as you understand mine." "But your task is easy. Harold honestly loves you: he lias only lost faith in your love of him. He thinks you have just been playing with him, and he wishes to be far away from'everything likely to remind him of you. He would be himself again if you only would te!l him tliat you love him and now and will love him for ever. You can forgive Harold. My sweetheart would never have forgiven me." "How often did you ask her?" "Not once."

"Mr. Brewster, 1 will give you my answer. I will try to make friends with my sweetheart if you try to make friends with yours. That is my price for anything I tan do to keep Harold at home."

Kenneth Brewster gazed at the audacious speaker. He had been driven in-j to an extremity which lie must face] bravely if he wished to win. In his eyes there slowly gathered a light tint belonged to other days; in his breast he felt a rekindling of fires that had long smouldered but had never really died. "How soon could you see your sweetheart,'' pursued the relentless Lilian. "Within twenty-fouT hours?" "I believe I could." "Shall lie meet in (,'owden Wood tomorrow at this hour and report to cash other?"

"Yes: but I must go at once. You have giren me much to do during the next tM'entv-four hours."

The Jim was streaming generous'}' down on C'owden Wood next day when, near the nook she loved, Lilian stood deeply 'buried in Harold Brewster's arms. Plainly, she had not found hor task difficult, for, though her eyes wee tearstaised, she was smiling confident!/.

They were 'waiting and watching for ibe co'nuhig of I'ncle Kenneth. But just as Lilian was about to return the soft pressure of her companion's lips a warning cough killed the half-performed act. Out from the shadow of the trees came Uncle Kenneth leading Aunt Hester. "You sly minx.*' said Uncle Kenneth,! ,playfully>; "you knew al Ithe time." 'I knew all the time," said Lilian, with impenitence, ''and I aui proud of my strategy. If appearances count, it seems to have ;been siiccessfnl." "t'ompuctely successful," smiled Aunt Hester. "Kenneth's heart hasn't forgotten it=; love." '•Xor his right arm its cunning.* said Uncle Kenneth. Wlariously. And before Aunt lleiter coatii protest, his arm had caught her waist and swung her round to receive au unexpected but not unwelcome kiss. "You knew how to kiss thirty years ago. it snems," said Harold, enviously. "You must excuse your uncle," said Hiss Scott, trying to cower up li->r blushing confusion. "People within a fortnight of their wedding are apt to be elated." "Dear me. you aren't tlail length already, are you':" asked Lilian, in astonishment. "Yes." interrupted Uncle Kennet'i: "we are going to marry .quietly, but quickly. You young folk can follow our example at your leisure. r wanted Hester Jo come to f'owden Hall, but she snggesjied that 1 should conic to Brent (Ufa-go and hand over tilie Hall to you two,. So you are welcome to ocempy it as, Mr. anil Mrs. Harold Brewster wiienc.er you choose, (lood day. My bride and I have a heap of private things '.o discuss. A wedding within a fortnight I need, a heap of arranging." [ The elder pair of lovers walked olf. Then Harold Brewster sat down amid I the loveliness and solitude of Cowden Wood and invited the I'lituro Mrs. liar-. | ~1.1 It'n-wst,.,- t„ dis.cus s with him the I details of their wedding and to appoint | an early date for the same.