THE STORYTELLER

Taranaki Daily News, 2 October 1915, Page 10 (Supplement)

THE STORYTELLER

JOHN CARSEL'S SON. L "It is now time that you faced the > ' responsibilities of life. You must learn j the rudiments of business. But not in 1 ' your father's office. That would be bad ] * ' for you. After my own, 'Dymock's' is s the best-managed house in London. > ; Dymock will take you to oblige me. You j 'will go through the drudgery like any; ordinary office-boy, I shall warn Dymock that there is to be no coddling. If, at the end of your apprenticeship, you present yourself before me with satisfactory credentials, you will be at once admitted to a copartnership." It was John Carsel, the great city merchant, addressing his sou Raymond. The speech was devoid of sentiment. It was characteristic on that account, for John Carsel was a martinet. He un- j doubtedlv loved his sou. That same love was expressed in the brusque, businesslike remarks he had just made. Baymond Carsel listened, silent and respectful. His father's training liad brought into relief most of the qualities : that give grit and grace to youth. John Carsel was esteemed as a just employer, and respected as a shrewd . business rival As a father, the wells of hIA affection ran strong and deep. But tliey never bubbled over. That was how Baymond Carsel,came tii be in Dymock'a for five years. He vient through the mill and proved good cotn. He licked Btamps, addressed envelopes, and ran errands with great efficiency. He won the favour of his senlon ahd the goodwill of his juniors. I He was twenty-one and in the last ffpnthe of bis apprenticeship when Ethel lestren entered his life. Typists were <Wrtantly coming and going in such a • Iwgc establishment; but Ethel Lestrcn Bent a thrill through Dymock's. Raymond CaJrsel marked her rare bekuty With secret pleasure and appreciation. Duties threw them much toge-1 ther. Baymond tried to make it pleasant for tbe new hand. She was obviously fearful of not giving satisfaction. Her fe&ra were unnecessary, for she was a model of proficiency. But her modest embarrassment heightened her winsome charm. ' 11. / ' Ethel Lestren had been'three months ih. Dymock's. That was bow Raymond Gtfrtel was now dating time. One night he stood suppliant in bis father's room. "Temporary lunaejjt" John Carsel was saying, angrily. "And you ought to know better than to fire off love speeches at me. By your own admission you never knew the girl existed till three months ago. She is a poverty-stricken typist, and all your talk about her beauty, her goodness, and' so on are the vapourings tot which every love-sick lad is guilty. This is the first time you have disgraced jourseif. 1 give you credit where due. / Dymock speaks highly of you. The promised partnership is waiting for you here. Frankly 1 am proud of you; but you are going to make a fool of yourself. You are making a fool of yourself now.- No one knows but me, however, and for my own sake I shall be silent. As for this girl, bah! She proJbably never hoped to marry more than a. thirty shillings a week clerk till she found out what a fool you were. She is trading on these fine, unselfish notions of yours. She is planning a sudden social ascent, with you as a stepping-stone. Many an astute member of her sex has done similarly. But be you wise. Ans-1 wer the bridle when age applies it. Your' romance of twenty-one will seem ridiculous at forty-two." John Carsel thought he was finally settling the matter. But he miscalculated. He forgot that, after all, Raymond Carsel was John Carsel's son. And . heredity tells. "1 have no desire to continue an unpleasant discussion," said Raymond. "But I wish you to understand that nothing you have said or evt-r can say will affect the position. 1 love Kthel Lestren, and I am going to marry her." "I shall disinherit vou the day you}' do." j J he shut v.as unworthy and went wide.! The sun'" contemptuous «milc made the father a-harncd of himself. "I conk! tell you what I think of that /(.-murk." -aid Kaymoud. "but it would Je;i<! nif to be disre-pceinil. 1 reverence you a, tin* best of lallu-r-, but you had lxuicr linderst.utd th;;t in\ liberty is not' to It-.- tmt<>tenr;J. rnir wall business or ' bankbook- separate me from the woman? 1 love. Viiir relereiioe lo her motiwj mi—c- liie mark. She known nothing or j Jny .-ocul position. ! preterml to oinl her on nr. merit*. Ami I did. sliel think-* I aui « thirty -hilling- week) clerk. She doesn't know i am John 1 ( al'sel s only son with all the pi'Ofcjpects j Ihat meant- ami no longer means. Fot, > att'-r this. | -hall no lon-ei- li\e h* your' char;;i Tlmak- to \oni foresight, i can • emu my own 1 am leaving you! with I.ie iie-i 111 ii-el;t,g. Tti please you! 1 w<,uld hav e yield--il in niauv things. In tW- ! \ ieM m.thiug. Good night." Jolhi Car-el -ji. ,-tatitiig into the lire. C'fetirly. things wen- going wrong. But he i-onldn'r «... ihat he was to blame. The wise course was plain, and he had taken it. hisniiordination was not to be tolerated. This was. insubordination aggravated by in-aniUy The- iron hand, the unbending will—these he.d taken .John Carsel through air his difficulties hitherto. They should, take hiui through this. What he forgot \®ts that Raymond Carsel was no longer a boy to be browbeaten, but a man t*> be reasoned with. 111. Twenty-four hours later a young lady btood on John tfcrselk doorstep asking to. we lum. He was mystified when the- visitor entered- his presence. For the moment he forgot Raymond's sweetheart, and he liwted with a, predisposition towards this modest, distinguished-tooting girl. "Probably yon will resenrt my intrusion,'' she said. *1 am Etferel Lestren!" I' "Oh!" The moinngtllafcle watt distinctly hos- . tilf "I shall leave at -oace if you wish., Bot I implore you to hear me. I have [some between you ati Rzyraood. I am. Imp" ft The simple wools were the highest doqueaee. Agaiast hia will they got , to Mm Ctaaefr kecrt. * "Raymnwl and I have been talking fcineh about it today. Be mQ not hear >f us parting, as I earnestly counselled." - "Do you love fain eo little?" "I love him so much. 80l I find I uavs been a cause of discord between you—eu unconscious cawse. My love was confessed ere I knew that Raymond was tjwre than one eft Dymock's staff. I waf. ready to suffer your suspicions that my love was not motiveless, but wh«a be told me j»>u had separated I decided to sacrifice sweetest hopes a

woman's heart ever cherished. I will efface myself, pass out of Raymond's I life, hide myself completely if that will restore you to each other. It is not your unjust sneers that prompt my action. {My love for Raymond is great enough ; to defy these. But I desire to restore j son to father. The blood-bond between J you cannot be severed, even if you | would. You do not love him better, 1 but, of course, you have loved him longer, I than I. My happiness as his wife would (be diminished by the knowledge that I had won it at the cost of yours. In all ■ this I am playing false to Raymond. I would infinitely prefer to wait and wed him. How happy I had hoped to be. How little beyond our own love would have sufficed us. How hateful, how valueless, is all that you have thrust between us." She paused to regain her breath. John Carsel was unmoved by her emotion. "I suppose you are expecting me to offer you compensation. Would a hundred pounds appease you?" A hot blush; suffused her cheeks. "Your insulting suggestion proves how little of his nature Raymond inherits from you. You can see nothing for the glint of gold in your eyes. You think that money has boundless power and that love has a market price. You are wrong both times. Keep your money. It could have added nothing to my happiness yesterday. It could take nothing from my sorrow to-day. I am a child in years and experience compared with you. Yet I know secrets of joy that all your worldly wisdom never taught you. Probably you, too, knew them I once—you must have known them once. But you have allowed yourself to forget. The unseen tragedy of your life took place the moment you allowed yourself to forget." John Carsel stood mute with astonishment. No man ever dared address him as this slip of a girl was doing. Nature had certainly made her beautiful. Love j was making her brave. Yet he would not brook ,such speech from He was too late. With swift grace she had turned and was gone. IV. Next morning Ethel Lestren was not at her place in Dylnock's. During tl> forenoon Raymond Carsel was called into the private office, handed a month's salary in lieu of notice, and told that his services were no longer required. He was momentarily stunned, but he promptly recovered. "May I use the firm's name for reference in my applications elsewhere?" "Certainly." "My work has been giving satis&fl» tiont" "Oh, yea." "Is there any special reason for this abrupt dismissal?" "We prefer not to discuss the matter.'' i Raymond smiled contemptuously. It was all quite plain. His father had decided to crush him into submission. Dymock's were doing their part in the plan —the plan that was doomed to fail. He passed outside and joined the unheeding crowd. He had only one month's salary in his pocket and only on& thought in his mind. Where was Ethel and why had she disappeared? He remembered that she had wildly ■; spoken of passing out of his life. Could she have been so unselfishly mad as to make the word a deed? His eager inquiries furnished the answer. He found himself a deserted lover, a disinherited SOD. The employment he sought constantly f eluded him. He tramped the streets by j day, he tenanted cheap lodgings by night , f Often he paused dispirited, Ip destiny . in the balance. The abyss, in whose depths is oblivion, yawned before him. But in the hour of temptation he triumphed—triumphed through his faith in the woman he still loved and who, he iknew, still loved him. In his stately home John Carsel sat solitary, memories of his happy youth accentuating the desolateness of his old age. He sprang impulsively from his ehair -one night. |t "I'll go and see that girl again," he j muttered. "She. may be more reasonable mow. She may at least reveal where | Raymond is and if he is well." "Btbcl isn't here," said the pleasantlooking lady who answered his tall; "and i cannot give you her address because 1 iiaven't got it. She writes me regularly and she is certainly in London. But 1 • liave no idea where." ; She led him into th? parlour and turnf ul on the light. / "Are you Hester Armitasked John !-Carsel, iiiemltilotHjJy. j ">es. And yon are mv old friend, rloim Carsel." ) "Your old adigcrer, John Carsel.'' ' And he looked with muoiseealed plea- ; sure at tin- < oiuisly lady before him. 1 "What have you to do with Kthel fliestrenT" he asked. "She is my sister's-daughter. We have { s»'*•! together since ler parents died." ! John Carsel was looking rather than; j "listening. Hester Armit's gentle mannerand soil grey eyes -.vert a fragrant part, of tiie happy long ago. "You haven't ebuiged a bit, Hester." "In appearance, neither have you; hut in nature surely you have, -.vlien you have parted young lovers, and one of them your own boy-" "1 tlKinght is was wise. But it was > because I was feeling doubtful o: my -■wisdom: that I came here, to-night. Sup pose, now, that you take a hand in the affair and show me where 1 have gone wrong." He drew his chair closer to hers, and to state his case. The signs that Hester Armit would be able to arrange 1 a satisfactory basis of settlement were numerous and favourable, i, Meantime, Baymond Carsel sent many zn application oat into the void, whence :im> answer ever returned. He sustained ; his heart on hope, his body on a menu > -scarcely more tangible. Poverty thrust i its ugly visagp before him with increasing boldness. He saw how men and wo- • unen jostled each other in the struggle for existence; and the sight did good to his soul. But it could not break his ■ spirit. i "Ah! Thank'.Heaven! A reply at last." ~ He seized the envelope eagerly. ■ "If Mr. Raymond Carsel will call at l Messrs. Hood and Tenril's office, at noon, he wil hear of.something to his advantt age." t Raymond was instantly suspicious. Hood and Tenril were his father's lawl yera. Was tine some plan of his father's r to give him sinreptitous aid? " He would haye none of it. He would [ignore Hood and Tenril. Yet it would I be interesting bo hear what they had to j j say. Out of curiosity lie would go. e j Promptly at noon he entered the lawI j yera' office. !. I "Ah, Mr. Raymond," said old Mr. Hood. 61 "Just step into that inner room. I shall tjbe with you presently," I Raymond obeyed. He entered the room a and. etuiae the,door, turned to find him-

self face to face with—Ethel Lestren, A double-noted .exclamation of joy—then silence—a long, delicious silence. The throbbing of re-united hearts was speech enough for glad lovers. It was long ere the pinioned bird on Raymond Carsel's breast found voice. "Are you ready to hear of something to your advantage?" she whispered. "1 have heard it, seen it; I am pressing it to my heart now." "You are cheating yourself out of further surprise and joy." "Then tell me." "I can't, without more breathing space. Thanks, that's easier. Well, dear, when I deserted you and Dymock's I felt like a rudderless speck on a mighty ocean! But one day I saw a tempting advertisement. I applied and got this situation. I have been here all this time, knowing nothing, suspecting nothing, till yesterday, when I had a visit from Aunt Hester and—guess v, ho! —your father. It turns out that they are old friends. Your father called one night seeking ine, and he found Aunt Hester. What took place after that I don't know, but I can guess from the facts that they were quietly married yesterday and have gone off on a long Continental wedding-trip. It was your father who arranged the advertisement which brought me here. It was simply a provision for my welfare, but both aunt and your father decided to put you on probation to see if your love for me would stand the strain. They instructed me to inform you that you have passed the test with distinction. As a reward, your father is going to make you his copartner." Raymond shook his head ungratefully. "My dear Ethel, that is nothing, until you tell me what reward you are going to give me. Will you also make mc your copartner?" She twined her arms around his neck and laid her soft, crimson-tinted cheek against his own. It was her deed of copartnership.