"OUT OF EVIL—"

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 273, 24 December 1909, Page 3

"OUT OF EVIL—"

The only merit, il such a wuril ca. be used in connection with so sordid < business, was the frank shamelessnos* of it all. There was no self-deception ■ttn.li iiiu iwo sdienii'is 111 Hit iitue comedy, and, oddly enough, out nj c.il ■came good lor two at least ol the three pariicipums. tin uiii'u party was disgusted in Uic end wini me whole business— not ashamed of his part in it, but angry because it showed insufficient profit. Briefly, the situation was as follows: Henry Pitt was in love. It was no grand passion—grand passions are, fortunately, rare—but he was in love to the full extent of his very limited little capacity. Monte people have large hearts and a large capacity lor loving, but Henry l'itt had a small heart and a small capacity. I mention this by way of liuding 'excuse for liis conduct. He was the pint measure which some people compare unfavorably with the quart measure. Hot even Jove coiild enlarge his little pint capacity. Providence and his- parents turned out a puny article, that is all. lie was an auctioneer's clerk in receipt of two pounds five shillings per week, and it was understood tiiat if the next year should be a good one, his employers, Messrs. Pawson and .Rolls, would generously increase this stipend to two pounds' ten shillings. The object of his adoration was Alice Rivers, a fluffy blonde, who did typewriting in Chancery Lane. The only child of a wealthy tradesman who had failed, at twenty-two she fouud herself alone in the world, for neither lather nor mother survived long the trying descent from the llorid mansion on Hornsey Rise to the shabby little rooms in an obscure square off the lj ray's Jinn road. She was pretty in an unpretentious way, trim and dainty, and when Air. Pitt made love to her she was a little flattered, and, weighing one thing against another, decided that to be Mrs. Pitt would be preferable to losing her looks over indefinite typewriting. y 0 they drifted into an engagement. It is worth while pointing out here that Mr. Pitt was at this point at the apex of his soul development. "You love, that's high as you shall go," says the poet, and Mr. Pitt at this point was straining on tiptoe. Alice • Rivers, on the contrary, had possibilities'. She was not in love, but merely pleased at being loved —-a very common but ,a different state ol things.

They prided themselves on being extremely practical young people, and tiif spectacle of two young things believing themselves to be in love, and knowing themselves to be extremely practical, is most disheartening t|) the idealist. They reviewed the situation, and, being both genteel to the finger-tips, were firm on one point. Marriage was impossible under three hundred a year. Mrs. Pitt would be obliged to have an "at home" day, and sit in state on third Mondays in a neat little house somewhere within modest train or tram fare. They would have to have one servant, and possibly a second, and a perambulator, and, of course, a fortnignt's holiday at Broadstairs. No amount of calculations made over tea at an Aerated Bread shop could make them see how this' could be done under three hundred pounds a year. Towards this income they 'had Mr. Pitt's prospective two pounds ten and the twenty-live shillings which Alice Rivers earned at typewriting. Mr. Pitt, by the way, was (irm on the point that, once married, Alice should abandon her profession. "You will have quite enough to do," he would say, "looking after the home and after me." It was a terrible problem, and t as the months and even years dragged by this young couple grew harder and more practical, and the glamor ol love was rubbed off them like the scales off a battered butterfly. And then the unexpected happened. l Alice Rivers,, going home alone one night, was caught in the rain. The heavens opened, regardless of her pretty summer blouse and while peevishly waiting under an archway slic found herself addressed t>y a stranger, anil an umbrella offered. The attention made her prettily flushed and flustered, and in a moment she was quite another Alice Rivers to the prosaic maid who, without ever a change of color, discussed ways and means with Mr. Pitt. The proffered umbrella was in the hands of a man not young by anv means, but kindly cynical and quietly amused. Alice was grateful; summer blouses were scarce, and one glance revealed to her trained eye that the man was a gentleman. He suggested a cab, but this frightened her and made er prettier still. She would walk under his umbrella if he "would be sure to keep it well over himself." Together they walked to Holford Square, and the time passed very pleasantly for both. Before they parted her new friend knew where she worked, what time she finished, and many more details, but she did not mention Henry Pitt, not to Henry Pitt did sho at first snv more than that "a funny old man had lent her an umbrella." Then it came about that they met again. James Kcokfnrt, known as "Jimmy the Wrecker" west of Charing Cross, took .a decided liking to the little typewriter. He was a man of means, with one foot in the grave (the result of many years' steady devotion to pleasing himself), and lie: was one of those personalities dowered by nature with an unfailing charm ol manner, which made his vices almost seem accomplishments and bis audaci- | ties deprecating courtesies. Alice Rivers I was far too self-posseSsed and practical to fall in love with an "impossible," besides, was'she not engaged? But she cultivated his acquaintance, and now frankly talked him over with Mr. Pitt, and discussed the possibility of his being useful to them.

Reckfort himself was' a humorist, with no very bigh opinion of women .in general, or, at this stage, of tihe pretty typewriter in particular, but she introduced a new interest into the fag-end of his life.

"How much do you make out of that absurd typewriting?" lie asked her one day. "Don't you think it would pay you better to come and amuse me for a while?"

"I don't understand what you mean," said Alice, primly. The humorist smiled, and, dropping the subject, went oft to his old friend -and doctor.

"Well, Stephens," he said, lighting a cigarette, "not dead yet, you see." Stephens, M.D., looked at him closely. "So I perceive." "What a cheery beggar you are," said the wrecker. "How long do you give

me now?" "Six months—a year at the utmost." said Stephens, M.D., lightly. "Wliats the game?" "Pretty low down sort of thing I suppose you'd consider it to make a woman fall in love with me at this stage?" "Pretty fair," said Stephens, M.D.

'•Thought you would. How do you suggest I shall amuse myself? I shall die in a week without amusement." | "Travel," s'aid Stephens. M.P. I "Alone?" I shrugged his shoulders. "An!" said Mr. Reckfort, "I see you're

no good to me. Y'ou can't even save my life, much less my soul," and be went off and suggested V Mice Rivers that she should come abro-,1 with Jiim for six months. "I can make it pTetty well worth your while," he added cynically. But the girl was not one to make I a mis-take. She pretended to be shocked, and declined, Reckfort disappeared for a week, and tlie lovers discussed the situation. "I've found out all about him," said Henry Pitt, sententiouslv. "He's Jimmy Reckfort, of Castle Hasing, and got -five thousand a year." He paused for a moment, adding thoughtfully, "He must be awfullv gone on you." "I think he is," said Alice, Sweetly.

But Heckfort's disappearance was not. for long. He had gone awav, lie told himself, to find forgetfulness. IJowever, little of moment is forgotten in a fortnight, and when he returned it was i to make 'Alice Rivers a formal proposal of marriage. "ft isn't very much I am offering you," he said, "hut you shall 'have a good time, little woman, and plenty of money, if you ever think about that, whicli I don't believe you do.; besides, you won't be bothered with me for long—a year at the outside. If jJron don't believe me about that, go and ask Stephens. 100. Cavendish Square. Say 1 ■sent you, and he'll tell you the truth. Now, what do vou snv?" "I should like to tilink it over," said Alice Rivers.

She thought it over and talked it over to some purpose. She even went to iee Stephens, wd her elderly

lover's death confirmed, and then she reasoned it out with Heury Pitt. I "It really does seem u chance," said ■Mr. Pitt; "we might have to wait live years otherwise." 1 And it isn't as if I should be doing anything wrong 0 r horrid," said' the girl. 'He is very fond of me, and, of course, 1 shall be very nice to him. I'm sure if we don't do it we shall think afterwards that we were very silly and sentimental. .Because the doctor said he was quite certain he couldn't live for move than a year." "One must take some clianees," said Mr, Pitt. ive thousand a year, and lie's pretty sure to leave you'the bulk of it. i guess we can wait a year. Go in aad win, old girl." So Alice Rivers went-in and won. The oddly - assorted couple went abroad, and when they came Lack they went into the country. London saw them little,- and ill-, l'itt not at all. I The man developed a very sincere affection for the gin, while the clurin ot| James I lluckfort woue Ue soul of Ue prim little scheming immoral moralist, | Alice Kivers; She learned tu love. Jimmy the Wrecker, us many a woman had done before. His breadth of "view and kindly tolerance, his umlerstand-

ing and unvarying, consideration, and the fact that though he had many sins he had no meannesses, made her lirst ashamed and thep devoted. Finally, when she found she could" not keep „er sordid secret from him, she know that she loved him and that Mr. Pitt did not' count in her new world. "And this Mr. Pitt," said Reckfort, with a little twinkle in his eye which sometimes puzzled his wife, "did he approve?" "He told me," said Mrs. Reckfort, with a little sob, "he told me to go m and win," and then she broke' down and cried. "Poor little woman!" said Reckfort "Well, my time is' nearly up, but I couldn't have spared him this year." Then somehow Mrs. Reckfort conveyed to her husband that she could

not have spared Mr. Pitt that year either, and that day was the only daj of tears in a union which, contrary to all expectations, turned out ideally happy. But there came a morning when Stephens, M.D., turning over the Morning- Post at breakfast, saw curtly an-

nounced the death of James Reckfort of Castle Basing, and he smiled grimly. He smiled more kindly later when he read the dead man's will, and longed, as life-long friends do at such a moment, to see Jimmy the Wrecker lounge into the room in his old imperturbable way. It was an odd will. Mrs. Reckfort received under its terms one thousand a year, and in the event of her marrying

again another four thousand was to come to her, but while she remained a widow this four thousand was to be

devoted to such scientific research as Stephens, M.D., had most at heart. The only other legatee was Heury Pitt, who benefited to the extent of £SOO per annum.

Mr. Pitt was not long in calling on the widow. "Well, Alice," he said, "so you've pulled it off all right. I suppose you've 'got to try and look a bit upset? But we needn't wait long, need we—threei months', six months, eh?" Somehow he was a little nervous in the presence of this grave woman in black. Marriage had somewhat changed her. "It was sporting of him to make such a ripping will. Some beggars try to prevent their widows marrying again. Five thousand pounds a year directly we are married! Good old Jimmy!"

Mrs. Reckfort was silent for a moment. "My husband," she smiled at last, and there was a little catch in her voice at the word, "has' prevented me marrying again. He loved me. You never did, and I know now, I never loved you. I shall never marry again.'' Mr. Pitt gasped with astonishment. "Well, of all the " "I know you will think I am behaving

badly," she pursued, "but I cannot it. I have a thousand » year of my own, and I am going to arrange with the trustee, Dr. Stephens, that a share of this is made over to you for—for waiting. I am sorry, Henry, but we made a mistake. We'd better say goodbye." Mr. Pitt wasted an hour's eloquence in first trying to persuade and then to bully her into carrying out the original programme. When at length he realised the hopelessness of shaking her resolution, he took up his hat and left in a rage. "Women," he afterwardsconfided to a crony, when telling him how he had been "let in," "have positively no sense of honor," and bo, aban doning all hope of finding a woman with a sense of honor, he sought ,for one who had money to supply the deficiency. Stephens, M.D., in a cynical frame of mind, was the next caller.

As trustee he was obliged to see the "little schemer." He listened to her views' with regard to assigning the bulk of her income to Mr. Pitt, but promptly negatived the idea. "My instructions," he said, "as trustee, emphatically forbid any such thing. It was my

old friend's wish that you should be well provided or and protected against yourself. As for the four thousand pounds a year " "I shall never marry again," said Mrs. Reckfort. \ "You would feel as I do, doctor, if you had once beeh happy," and Stephens, M.D., who had carried an old sorrow through thirty years, promptly forgave her and shook hands with her. They were very good friends ever afterwards, but Mrs. Reckfort never married again. Mr. Henry Pitt, when last heard of, was conducting a flourishing turf agency.—By Frederick Fenn.