PRIDE.

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 17, 9 July 1920, Page 2

PRIDE.

- "I think a man who proposes to a girl before he is in a position to marry is nothing rnore rior less than a cad. The speaker uttered the words angrilv, and a dull flush spread over his handsome face. • Madge Ellon, a pretty girl of twenty, regarded hini pensively. "I don't think you would say that il you hau ever been really in love, Mr Gray," she replied in cold tones. It, was June, and a sunny afternoon. The two were seated in deck chairs in the garden of Madge's home. Though only a clerk— and a junior one at that — in Billing's the big advertising house, Randall Gray was made wekome at John Elton's home, despite the iact that the latter was a wealthv stockbroker with an- only and very attractive daughter. For John Elton was a generous and large-minded man. A month before, Gray had done him a service, which he had rewaxded by throwing open the hospitality of his house io the former. The stock- ■; ■broker reckoned himself no mean judgc ot j men ; he felt that Gray was to be trusted. j And there he was right. Though Randall Gray was not proof against the charms of Madge Elton, he possessed an obstmate pride that prevented him from showing his real feelings. j He would have died rather than confess his love for Madge until he could provide | her with the worldly position he deemed she deserved. Yet Madge liked him. Her rnother nc.ted with growing alarm the usual symptoms, Madge's appetite fell off perceptibly, and she became prone to fits of abstraction after Randall Gray's visits. But Madge, too, was proud. Until Gray showed his true feelings she preferred to maintain an outward appearance of cold aloofness, rather than give the slightest hint of her regard for him. So, whilst her father and mother in secret conference, felt there was no danger of what they would term an "unfortunate" matc.h, they both wished Randall Gray, whom they genuinely liked, would either inherit a fortune, or else be repia ced by a niore eligible suitor.

Unhappily, from their point of view, neither of these alternatives appeared probable. Their sole safety lay in the strength of pride of Madge and Randall. This afternoon, though warm and pleasant out of doors, there was a hint of thunder in the air. Randall and Madge had talked on general matters, until imperceptibly the conversation h.ad drifted on to marriage. Without realising it Randall had allowed himself to declare his opinions with more heat and emphasis than usual, with the ' recult that a slight coolness had fa-llen he- ' tween the two. j "So you think, Miss Elton," remarked Gray, "that selfishness is consistent with real love?" There was a faint note of sarcasm in his voice, The colour in Madge's cheeks deepened. "I ara afraid 1 don't quite understand you." "Don't you think a man would be a selfish brule to take the woman he loved from a home where she eujoyed every ccmfort to a life of penury — if not actual poverty." "He would, if the girl did not know what his circumstances really were." "And even if she did?" "He could ask her to wait until he had bettered himself." Gray shrugged his s'.ioulders. "Supposing he never succeeded in bettering himself?" he said. "If a man lias only grit in him, he will succeed," answered Madge disdainfully. For a momerit Randall Gray did not reply. Then suddenly he rose to his feet. "I'm afraid we don't see things alike," he said, looking down in Madge's eyes "Perhaps it's pride — or maybe just sheer foolishness — but, to my way of thinking, a man should prove himself first In such a case." She met his gaze frankly. Never had she seemed so beautiful to him ; never so attractive. Her daintinesss and grace thrilled and intox ' -.ted him, The air was rich with the scent of ,flowers, and a gentlo breeze disturbed the stillness of the garden. . From afar oi? came the distant rumblo of thunder.

"Good-bye," he said, and extended 1ns hand. She, too, rose to her feet — in surprise. "You are going so soon?" He nodded. 1 hey shook hands and Madge wondered at the serious ldok that had come into his eyes. Gray went straight back to liis lodgings. A wave of resolution had overcome him. He knew that he loved Madge more than anything .else in the world. But he realised a-lso the futility of his love in his present position. So he sat down and wrote to her father. "Dear Mr Ellon," he wrote. "Please do not think me impolite or ungrateful to you for your generous hospitality. But, in th ? circumstances, I think it is advisable for me to discontinue my visits to your house. I am sure you will understand. With always my best wishes, I remain, Yours sincerely, "Randall Gray." The letter arrived by the last post that night. When he read it, John Elton passed it across to Madge without a word of comment. He watched her face closely whilst she read it. She went a trifle pale, but offered no reply. Yet, when Madge went to sleep that night, her pillow was damp with t-ears. II. Many are the reasons that spur men on to make money. With some there is happiness in the mere feeling that they are making it. With some it is to hoard their wages and build up a fortune. Some make it to spend it as fast as they get it. And with a iew it is with a definite object in view. Randall Gray was one of the last. His own tastes were siinple, his rnode of living plain. But he was actuated by one great, overwhelming desire. He wanted to marry Madge. He wanted to make a home. He Wanted to live in comfort with an assured future, untroubled by the da-ngers of poverty and worry. So straightway, after writing that note tu Madge's father, he b.egan to devote all his energies to the accomplishment of those ends. The firm at which he worked was a large one. Moreover, it was, if anything, rather over-staffed. Promotion w'a-s slow. The "top" men were youngish. So, hesides putting his soul in liis work, he kept his eye s open outside.

At about that time a famous daily newspaper made an offer of £100 for an advertising idea. Now a hundred pounds is a j very useful sum. Many a successful man : to-day started business with less. Randall Gray thought he could find a very good uro for it. When, therefore, he returned to his lodgings in the evening, after his day's work, he spent the hours planning and scheming. In the end he produced a lialf a dczen fairly good ideas which he duly sent in. Then one day, shortly bei'ore th,e award was to be closed, his brain was visited by a tmly admirahle idea. It was simple but brilliant. That night he lavished unremitting care upon polishing and shaping the idea. He launched it into the pillar-box trembling with excitement and anticipation. A fortnight later he received the compliments of the great newspaper tcgether with a hdndred pounds' cheque. "Well," he murmured to himself in high elation, "that's chapter one." The newspaper did not r,est content with giving the award. It published Randall Gray's name. It expressed the opinion that his effort was the most novel and ingonious of any that it had received for a long time. In fact, it was very generous in praise. A rfci it wrote him a letter saving politely that it would be glad to consider any further ideas h'e might care to submit. ^ His enrployers saw the announcement. Even the directoi's were impressed. Th,ey made inquiries of the manager concerning So the manager sent for him. The manager said he was very pleased to see that Gray had won the hundred pounds. He congratulated him. At t,he same time, he felt he ought to remark that

Gray must not forget that his first duty was to his employers. He thought that they had first call on Gray's brain s. Gray was not surprised. -'In fact, sir," he said, "you wouldn't have minded in the least my sending in as many ideas as I liked— so long as I wasn t successful." "Not at all," said ihe manager, "1 don't say that. But " A few weeks later Randall Gray sent in his resignation, and launched out for himself. With the hundred pounds and his own savings which amounted to a further fifty pounds he started a small aavertising business. His fcllow-clerks roared at the idea. They regard ed him as being quite mad. They predicted an early downfall, and drew vivid pictures of Gray sleeping on the Thames Embankment. Randall Gray smiled. He know that this attitude is always the inevitable accompaniment of enterprise that begins in a small way. But when he went home to his lodgings at night, the thought of Madge Elton kept him firm in his resolve. III. Five years had passed. It was autumn, and the trees were clothed in tints of cop-per-bronze. The afternoon was warm and sunny; to Randall Gray all was well with the world. He was alone in his car— a sportiiig twoseater, and was whirling along the Portsmouth road. That morning there had been a, general meeting of the Metropolitan Publicity Company, Limited, of which Randall Gray was mana-ging director. A handsome dividend had been declared. The shareholders had been pleased, his fellow-directors had been pleased, and Gray himself had been pleased. For he was making money fast Already be was marked down as a comin"1 man. lle was filled with joy of life.- The worldly success for which he had strived had been achieved. His position was assured. And now his mind was solely occupied by the thought of Madge. For five years he had neither seen nor written to her. Religiously be had excluded her as far as possible from his thoughts that he might concentrate the more fully upon his business. But to-morrow — to-morrow he was going to visit her father. To-morrow he was going to ask the stockbroker for formal permission to-pay attentions to his daughter. To-morrow he was going to show John Elton the pass hook of his banking account And Madge ? Well, Randall Gray realised that Madge would probably be cool towards him at first. Five years is a long time. He could now woo her with an ardour that necd be unrestrained. Besides, he had now the coiifidence of a successful man. So, as his smart little car was gliding smoothing through the sunshine of the afternoon, Randall GrayV thoughts were pleasant ones, and his eyes were bright and srniling.

He decided to pull up at Ripley, and there partake a cup of tea. He ran the two-seater into a garage. After his tea he strolled off the road along a quiet path to indulge in a cigarette before returning home. The path ran along the edge of a large, still lake ; in the afternoon sun the heauty of the surroundings was exquisite. As he gazed across the water, it. is small wonder that Gray fell into a mood of contemplative cairn. He was aroused from his reverie by the sound of a Iiglit footstep a -few yards in front of him. Ile glanced up. Along the path a girl was approaching him. It. was Madge Elton.

IV. bor an instant Madge did not recognise him. Then suddenly he saw the colour desert her cheeks. She uttered a little exclamation of surprise. "Mr Gray!" He raised his hat and advanced towards her, extending his hand. "How do you do, Miss Elton?" She scrutinised him closely. He had aged but little in the five years. But he had grown a trifle stouter, a trifle broader. And he seemed to have hardened. As ior Madge, he thought she was prcttier than ever. l1or a moment after their greeting neither spoke. Both felt a certain awkwardness. And then : It s ■ curious meeting you like this today, he said. "It seems almost as though I ate had intended it. For to-morrow I was going to call upon your father. " Madge raised her eyebrows. ] Really, ' she said in rather cold tones. hy 1 thought you must have completely forgotten us, Mr Gray:" He regarded her steadily. I have never forgotten you," he said. "Do you really think I could?" It wouldn't have been at all surpris-

ing— avoiding us as you have d(1_ „ time." all % "I had a reason "He pause(i then he went on. "Surely y0u ' ^ it was I desterted you so suddenM" Madge did not reply. She ively across the lake. The coloui ). turned to her cheeks. Then ^ slue looked at him and said : "The world seems to have been you well, Mr Gray." UElr'S "YTes," he said. "Success has Cotne I way." There was a note of pride n voice. "I have worked hard," 1 tinued, "towards a certaiu end ] 1 a definite aim in view." Sv# 1 "And have you accomplished vcmv ject?" ' 0u' j "Partly. Though my wordly success h only been a means to an end." Madge glanced at her wrist-watch "I'm afraid I must be going," s)le t.:, 1 Gray turned. "I, too, am going back to the road il will accompany you— if you've no object- 1 tion." They b,egan to walk slowly back. "Do you remember," said Gray. "tbatl conversation we had the last tmie were together, in the garden of your ] house?" "Five years is a long time," said Mad«e 1 "It was about marriage. We had an I argument, if you recollect, about whether I a marr should propose to a girl before he )s I in a position to marry, or whether t6 I should wait until he has made good " i "Well?" "I was wondering if you still holdji, j same vievvs." "Nothing has occurred to m!« m j change them." "Then you still think a poor man sWhh j sink his pride — " Madge Elton's beatuiful eyes fiashed. j "Pride!" she exclaimed in angry tones, I "Pride! What sort of man it is Lhll puts his pride before his love ! 11 bl really is. in love with a girl, isn't. it pis.j sible that she, too, may eare for h«!j Is it fair to her to remain silent? If she't I any spirit, do you think it will makeanjl difference whether the man' s poor or ricbfl I think that a man who from pride oi I any other reason remains silent when itl is his duty to speak is too selfish to know the real meaning of the word love!'. ' 'Too selfish ' ' "Let me tell you something, Mr Gray, I that seems to have escaped you. Warldly I success is a very fine thing. and every man I who is worth the^ name will strive to get I on. Money, position, power— who te I not desire them ? But mon'ey cannot toy fl everything. And love is one of ib I things it can't buy." Madge spoke quietly and earnestly : as I Randall Gray listened, the words seemed ■ to scorch. his brain. Despite himseli he I could not restrain a. growing anger within I him. The thought that after his five I years ceaseless striving in silence Madge I should greet him like this irritated him be- I yond measure. It was so utterly ridicul- I ous. This deadlock of ideas had occurred I when they had parted five years ago; and I now it recurred as a barrier between them. ■ "How like a woman!" he reflccted ■ bitterly. J

So a silence fell between them. % IJ traversed the last few yards without (R 11 ing. When they reached the road 11 said ; j "I see my friends are waiting for »• I over there in that car. So 1 11 s*iy ?c(^ fl bye, Mr Gray." | "Good-bye, Miss Elton. ' I He watched her run lightly along l ' ■ road to where a big, touring car sto • ■ She jumped in, glancing back as I so. A minute later the car had disapp® ■ from sight along the road. j During the days that followetl I Gray carried out his work in nno 31 ' ■ fashion. There was a lack oi spin ■ his energies, and a lack of purpo® 1 He knew he still loved Madge , I ol-l ardour. It was the thought ^ ■ ing his attentions where they were ^ ■ tasteful that galled him. M h-t 1 flj think of him in her heart? Was ■ cold towards him? Had the H time killed any regard that 10 she had felt formerly ? It sesme J ■ His pride was piqued. Right? 0 , ^ ■ ly, he felt that at least he had ^ | an honourable fashion an 1 motives. ,ijng fl And so, he forebore from « fl his original intention. * e I keep away from the E fl prefeiring instead to let /ir" , je I hopelessly wretched and rol^e fl Then Destiny took a hand i ^ ^ ^ ■ It happened a few ^ 4 crossing a busy city - „"corner I heavy motor lorry, tuining ^ }]t ■ denly, struck Randall_ Gray to ■ was taken, senscless, m ao ' the hospital. . ffl ccto^^ I He was suffering bad y cr(jShed- ^ K and his left arm was q"1 firay ^ ■ surgeon did not hesitate-

carried into tho, operating theatre. They took his arm off from the shoulder, It was Madge's father who noticed the paragraph in the newspaper whilst travelling to the city by his morning train. When he got to the office, he rang up the hospital, but he was told that Gray was in no condition to receive visitors. One afternoon about a week later the sister of tho ward came to Randall Gray and. told him that a visitor had called. Madge entered the ward quietly. When she saw the pale, weak man, who befure had beem so robust and strong her eyes filled with tears. Gray smiled when he saw her. "It's good of you to come," he said. They were only allowed a few words. The sister came very soon and led Madge away.' Bnt Madge came regularly after thit. Many weeks passed before Gray was well enough to leave the hospital. At last the doctor pronounced that he might go away to a convalescent home at the seaside. As his health gradually returned, Randall Gray thouglit out his position as regards Madge carefully. He kriew that she had softened considerably towards him, but the thought that it was pity that had altered her attitude hurt him. "I believe she would marry me even now," was the trend of his thoughts, "out of sheer pity. Well, thank Heaven, I've more pride in me to be a party to that!" So he finally made up his mind. He would see Madge but once more, and then — then he would go right away for good.

When he returned to London he went straight to the Elton's home. He found Madge alone. "Why," she said, her eyes lighting with pleasure as she rose to greet him, "how well and strong you look!" Her glance rested only for an instant upon his empty coat-sleeve, but he noticed it, and smiled grimly to liimself. "I'm glad you are alone," he said, "because — well, because I've come to say good-bye!" "Good-bye!" Madge echoed the words in astonishment. "I'm going away." Madge stared blankly, tbe colour ebbing from her cheeks. "I've decided to go out of business. I can sell my interest. Anyway, I've managed to save a little money, so I'm just going to clear right out of the country." She stared at his grave, serious face without replying. "You see," he continued slowly, "to anyone of my temperament this— this" — he tapped the empty sleeve of his jacket — "makes a difference. It's not that I care twopence about the loss of the wretched arm itself . . . . it's becoming an object of pity that grates so. It hurts — it hurts one's pride." Madge's eyes flashed. "Randall Gray," she said, "you're insufferable ! You, and vour wretched,- paltry pride ! You make me tired. When it's not one thing, it's sometliing else. Five years ago I thought — well, I thought you. . , . like me. Yet you deliberately went away — because you were poor and proud or some such nonsense. As if that made any differenoe ! And now — now " "And now I care for you, Madge, just as much as I did then," said Gray tyMadge hesitated a second. Then she turned away from him. Randall Gray saw his Fate written in the heavens. It was now or never. He saw how his pride had cost him five years of lost happiness. He saw now how it threatened to cost him his entire life's happiness. A wave of resolution overcame him. He caught this thing called Pride and slew it for good and all. "Madge," he said steadily, "I love you. Will you marry me?" She did. The End.