THE STORYTELLER

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 204, 2 October 1909, Page 3

THE STORYTELLER

VALUE OF A PICTURE. Eliza protruded a grimy face, hot fcom recent conflict with the kitchen range, aud announced iu awestruck accents: "Lady to sec you, mum." A portly, well-dressed figure swept pkLgt the deeply-impressed Eliza, and, ignoring Alias La viliia/fl outstretched hand, sank heavily into a chait on the apposite ot the fireplace. "I'm very glad to sec you, Mrs. GoodMil, I'm sure," said Misi Lavinia, with «n air of old-fasliioned courtesy, ''[t isn't often I have the pleasure of a visit from you," she added tentatively. ill's. Goodall struggled with the fattening of lier sable necklet. "I've come to pay for the girl'' music-lessons," she announced wiifc blunt directness. Miss Lavinia wondered vaguely at this singular digression from the usual mode of procedure. As a rule, she rea etuq&t for the amount of her bill by post. I'or the past three years she had given what slie was pleased t> term "pianoforte tuition' to the two Misses Goodall, and twice a week m consequence—in dire consequence—her ancient cottage piano, mellow with ag", groaned audibly beneath the unsystem atic touch of stumbling, unskilled lingers. It was a cruel sacrilege, but .t Helped to relieve the pressure on her perilously slender purse-strings in quite a wonderful manner. With a sort of fascinated curios ty ghfe watched Mrs. Goodall's fat, weUgloved fingers as they delved into the depths of the brown leather go.dmounted "handbag. The visitor was indeed a very rceplendent pereon. A gaudy Ostrich tip ornamented the apex of lier elaborately-trimmed roo'inet, and from each plump wrist depen led a. massive gold curb bracelet. Quite unconsciously Miss Laviinfi estimated that her fur necklet alone would keep a pdor man's family in comparative luxury for at least twelve months. Presently Mre. Goodall secured he object of he r search. "At last! 1 ' she breathed triumphantly. She laid the cheque, together with Miss Lavinia's bill, on the tireadbaie tapfestry tablecloth. . "I might as well lake the receipt with me," she suggested. "Save time and a stamp, you Know." At that somewhat brutal reference to her reduced circumstances Miss Lavinia flushed to the roots of her greysprinkled hair. Nevertheless, she silent, ly complied and carefully wrote ner name in full across the penny stamp. This little formality completed, her visitor rose. "I hope you are quite satisfied witn your daughters' progress?" ventured Miss Lavinia, by way of a little polit,conversation. Then Mrs. Goodall let herself go. Tit brightly-colored plume in her bonnet, together with the undoubtedly beaklike formation of the nose beneath it. gave the irate matron a startling re semblance to an infuriated cockatoo. "No, indeed. I'm not!" she burst forth in answer to Miss Lavinia's question "Edwin said I wasn't to mention it, an: we were to look on it in the light of ■ charity. But. I can tell you, I never felt so ashamed iu my life ns I did las'. Thursday at I'rovis's party. There war Gladys Provis, who has lessons from til l real orofessor of music, playing all sor s of difficult pieceß, out of the classics, too; and then, when my Emily and Agnes followed on with the 'Dewdrep Duet' I could have sunk through tht floor. You're behind the times, Mis? Lavinia—a long way behind! But it's a shame my poor girls should have to suffer for it."

At this point Mrs. Goodall's sense of maternal solicitude 60 completely ove v powered her tout she was compelled tc resort to a large.spotless handkerchief to absorb her.grief. Miss Lavinia, still standing, was silent for a hiinute or two. She waited until the handkerchief had resumed its fornver resting-'plaee -in the gold-mounted bag : and its owner, with a sigh of resignation, had turned to the door. Then "Stop!" she cried suddenly. The note of command in her usually meek voice startled even herself.

Mrs. Goodall turned a purple countenance, comical in its bewildered resentment, in her direction. "I have stood your jibes in silence," said Miss Lavinia, speaking slowly anl distinctly, though her heart throbhid painfully, "because I feel you have every right to accuse me of being behind the times. It is a fault lam perhaps '-ir> old to remedy now." She smiled a littli ae the vision of the stodgy, thick-fin gered Misses Goodall arose in her mind "I will dispense with the customaiy quarter's notice," she continued, "which will leave von at' liberty to seek abler tuition elsewhere without delay."

She picked up the thin slip of paner from the tablecloth and, apparently, without a shadow of reluctance thrust the hard-earned fruit of her patient labors into the very heart of the fire.

Mrs. Goodall's prominent eyeballs stared in stupefied alarm. Fo r a moment>the audacity of thu proceeding took Ler breath away. "The woman's mail!" she ejaculated at last, and hurried out into the gloom of the narrow passage. Miss Livinia sat on in the fireliglit. There was an expression of hopeless misery in the kind brown eyes. As a matter of fact, she had confidently counted upon that ill-fated cheque to discharge several small debts at the end of the week-rElza's monthly wages, the piano-tuner's account, and a bill for music purchased in the interest ol the Misses Goodall.

Over and over again in her own mind | sliss Lavinia propounded the riddle, but could find no satisfactory solution. She took a taper from the mantelpiece and lighted the dilapidated chandelier. The full glare of the gaslight revealed the extreme shabbiness of the surroundings with pathetic distinctne«s. The room was very sparsely furnished; the terribly worn Brussels carpet had long since faded from a warm crimson to a depressing brown; no sweeping could ever avail to restore its pristine freshness.

The only picture the room boasted was an oil painting in an imposing gilt frame abc-e the fireplace. It represented a. prstoral scene, with a cottage on the cily of a wood; certain indeterminate objects in the immediate foreground might charitably be taken for cattle browsing. Hiss Lavinia gazed at it with affectionate interest.

The picture was her late father's handiwork—the scene of his early boyhood. His daughter, to whom association counted for more than accuracy of outliip. considered it a priceless possesion.

Looking at it, she almost fancied she could hear her father's voice as it dwelt tenderly on some dearly cherished reminiscence. She recalled the softened light in his eyes'as tliey lingered regretfully upon the scene of his youthful days. Again she heard his earnest, oftrepeated entreaty: "Don't part with it. Lavinia, whatever happens." Now the temptation had come. Oil the morrow many people turned round, to stare at the odd little figure in the qiievrly-eut. fur-trimmed jacket, but Jliss Lavinia, hurrying through the crowded streets of city with lowered head and guiltily-flushed cheeks, paid little heed. At last she reached her destination. The manager, a stout, good"tempered little man of sixty or so, came forward and politely enquired her pleasure. Mi=s Lavinia produced a bulky parcel swathed in -"vrral layers of thick brown paper, and ' 'id it on the counter without a word Her fingers trembled a 6 she St: It .1 to untie the knotted string. "Ai ';> v me," pleaded the urbane p. irv-denler. He examined the work of art with scrupulous care. "I think the frame will require reuifdinff." he said at last; "and if you like we can touch up the painting'for you. I can assure you we are most careful—- ■ Miss 'Lavinia interrupted him. "I don't ivant- it touched up!" she cried almost Hysterically. "I want to sell it."

The urbanity vanished as if by magic. "I'm sorry, madam " Then Miss Lavinia completely broke down.

It is just poMibk' that beneath t'je veneer of professional urbanity the man actually possessed a heart. Perhaps he read Miss Lavinia's story in the car- 1 - fully-mended cotton gloves and th« shahbr, hopelessly out-of-date jacket. At all ernits. fo r one impossible moment hp actually contemplated purchas-1 ing the thing himself for charity's j sake. Then a cold rush of commonsense froze the milk of human kindnft" in his veins. A disquieting image «•? the stern-visaged lady in the suburbs who shared his income and reckoned un Mb substance, even unto the uttermost farthing, presented itself to his mental

vision. "We only huv through our own amenta" he explained gently. "But I'll tell you what I can do. fU exhibit

I your picture iu the window, and if b;' chance anyone should take a fancy to it"—his glance rested dubiously upon the indecisive four-looted beads in tile foreground—"l'll lei you know immediately. Will you give me your address?" .Miss Lavnna ..naiikcd liirn warmly, and left the picture in his keeping. On her way home she called at the bank and reluctantly withdrew live pounds from her account.

[ After the iiium' ol a fortnight, Miss Lavinia, despite a great ai..,npt .it optimism, gradually began w iu.,e hope. A frantic quest for lrv>n j.uiuls nad merely resulted in tile addition of the curate's eldest boy, who came on sucll ridiculously reduced terms,, aud was always so inadequately supplied with handkerchiefs, aud invariably in such extreme need of them, that Miss Lavinia felt unable to regard his advent altogether iu the light of an unmixed blessing.

Thus it befell that, driven to the last resource of the impoverished gentlewoman, Miss Lavinia one morning suspended a ueat black-letter card iu h-r parlor window, and several stopped to stare, but not one of them opened the dusty iron gate to make enquiries. Then, one afternoon towards the end) l of the week, just as Miss Lavmia, wir.hl a sigh of relief, had dismissed iler solitary pupil, n tall, grey-haired gentlenan was ushered into.the little sittingroom.

".Miss Layinia Briarley, I believe?" no said, bowing ill quite a charming man-

Miss Lavinia was almost too excited to reply. She drew forward the most comfortable chair and recklessly placed an.extra cob of coal on the fire, wondering meanwhile as to whether the stranger would prefer "late dinner" oi "high tea." , She mentally decided In favor of the former. "I shall do my very best to make yoa comfortable," she hastened to assure him, "although I must confess I'm quite new to business." Her mouth trembled little. "This is the sitting-room you will have for your exclusive use," she -•ontinued, "anil if you would like to look upstairs " She paused, silenced by his expression ,)f 'bewilderment.

"Oh," she gasped, "you didn't come ibout thu rooms?"

"Xo" he 6aid quietly. "I came about che picture." The joy faded out of Miss Lavinia's face aud left it grey and cold. "I'm sorry," she said at last; "I've decided uot to sell'it after all. 1 wrote to the dealer this morning, asking him to let me have it back. 1 ought never to have parted with it." Her glance wandered unconsciously to j the blank, accusing space over the J mantelpiece. j "That' 6 a pity," he returned slowly, i •'I happened to see it exhibited in the | window and took a fancy to it. I sap-1 pose I couldn't tempt you? I'm williugl to pay—well—any sum you like to name, in reason." | Miss Lavinia wavered. j Any sum she liked to name? Her tired eyes sought that ominous piece of | pasteboard inviting the intrusion of strangers upon her privacy; she could 'lear the whvezy breathing of the slat- , ernly chin woman. who, povforce, had 1 supplanted Kliza in the passage outsido. t Then a sudden expression of resolution ! »nnobled the small, pinched features, t }uite distinctly came the sound of her [father's voice, strangely reproachful: i I "Don't part with it, Lavinia, what- | *ver happens." I Her indecision vanished. She would ( , iot betray the trust a second time. j "Xo," she said firmly. "I can't }»avt, 1 vith it." "And, please God, you never shall"I idded the stranger fervently. > He took a step forward. "Don't you recognise me, Lavinia?" • She shook her head in amazement. "How should vou?"' he laughed. 4, T :x*meinber you were quite a little girl vhen I left for Australia."

A tiny pinpoint of light glimmered aintly ill Miss Lavinia's nneompi'clieiid:ng brain. It gradually increased i:i willianev until:

"Then you must be niv father's voimgcr brother," she almost gasped. "And the scapegoat of the family," "ie supplemented. "I've been fairly forunate out there" he acknowledged; •fortunate enough to return to the 'o'd ountTy.' to repent at leisure for my ■ins. But I shall never forget that it vas your father helped me to a new 'ife."

Then lit; told Miss Lavinia how he lad spent the first three months of his •etnrn in a fruitless search for her—lis only surviving relative. "I was about to give up the ta.fk - hopeless." he said, "when I chanced ''ion tlie nieture in that art-dealer's 'indow. l,eeognising it at once. I tepped inside, mad" enquiries, and to 'iv surprise and delight was furnished ith voiir address."

He took Miss Lavinia's trembling little land in his.

"Unhappily I cannot repav my 'irother's gencrositv in person." he said on-owfullv; "but T trust his daughter ■v:ll ii"t refuse to take a little on ac•ount."

AVhi'Ti Mr*, Goodnl] heard that Jf'ss Jivinin had gone to live with » wonlthy ■rlativo from Australia, the astute ladv 'rasped the situation immediately. "I always thought she must have ■nmething n;> Irr sleeve." she observed ■'Sely. "or che would nrv'r have burnt 'in t ehenne."—Tsv M. W. flee.