The Storyteller.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVIII, Issue 4, 25 January 1900, Page 23

The Storyteller.

THE BETROTHAL.

THE momentous day had at last arrived, and Mr. Hawthorne's tenants, to the number of nearly 30, had gathered on the lawn outside his house to hear what he wished to propose to them. Dipcussion had been rife for weeks past as to the probable nature of those propositions, but one and all had agreed that they could only be in the shape of betterment ; for it is hard to beat the worst, and that was the stage they seemed to have reached. Nor was it anything like a new stage for these struggling Irish tenants. The soil would not repay them for the labour they spent upon it in any greater degree than to just keep the wolf of actual starvation from the door. To gave from their scanty produae anything approaching sufficient to pay the rent of their holdings seemed to get more and more impossible as the years went by. That this must be so was as clear as day. They took the strength from the Boil, in itself unfruitful and unproductive, and had not the means or power of refertilising it, or changing the nature of their products that exhausted Nature might rest and recuperate. A hundred thousand sons of Erin had found out the fact, and left in grief the shores of the land which failed to support them, finding far across the seas the rich land waiting for the spade to turn it— land unploughed and untilled, which had been storing up its riches for centuries. Nor was the lot of the owner any better. He stayed in the impoverished country to guard his possessions and look after his tenants ; but the possessions brought him no reward, and the fact that his tenants could not pay their rent made it no better for him than if they could and would not. Thus the gentleman and the peasant met in the common anxiety of finding daily bread, and little could be found in the lot of either which proved him really better off than his neighbour. A finer suit of clothes meant the additional anxiety of paying for it. The responsibility attached to the few extra comforts of the landlord probably outweighed their advantage and left the tenant better off without them. It was all summed up in the daily problem which wore away the brain and nerve and fibre of both classes alike — the problem of keeping famine from the door. And now they stood around, a picturesque group of comely Irish men and women, and from a ricketty seat, which ran round a shady oak tree, John Hawthorne rose to address them. Beside him. dressed in simple muslin, was his daughter. For a hundred miles round one might have searched the country and failed to fiud a more beautiful type of real Irish loveliness. A profusion of chestnut hair framed a face each feature of which was as near perfection as human beauty can attain. She looked with pathetic lovs and interest in her father's face as he rose and commenced to speak. 'Tenants,' he said, 'there is no need for me to tell you the troubles we a'l endure, and have endured now for ao many yearn. We are all doing our beet but the land itwelf is against us and our best is very little better than the worst. It troubles me as much as I kn'jw it troubles you all, anil I think none can say that I have ever proved a hard landlord. When you are able to pay you do pay, though it means often enough, and I have never lost sight of the fact, privation to you and pinching, and, too oft.-n, want. 'Now I have been thinking these matters out-, thinking for you as well as for raysef, and I have come to the conclusion th,it we'are drifting to worst times, and that the day ha<* come fur us to stop and look the matter in the face. If to stay hole means famine, and any way is open for ua to go, is it not better to go now rather than to wait until famine is actually at our door / I lo?e my country as well as auy of you but when it comes to the question of keeping body and soul together I am prepared to say, as I n>w say to you, let us emigrate. Better men than we have done so and found brighter homes in some of the rich lauds far a vay, and have been glad ds their children grew up that they were preparing a fatbetter home for them than they could e\er have done in dear old Ireland. ' I don't ask you to do \vh .t I will not do myself, and where her father goes my daughter Eileen will go also. So what I soy to you is : Let us all go together and try our fortunes in far-off Canada. We have never quarrelled as landlord and tenant here, and if we go on trusting one another ami acting square and straight we shall get on well enough on the other side. Well, tenants, before I say anything further what do you think about my proposition / ' There seemed no need for them to even look in one another's faces to know that all were ready. In the mind of many amongst those present had the same idea, though vague and illusory, taken root, and now that a man capable of working the plan had proposed it to them, a loud cry of 'We will go' weut up from men and women alike. 'But it's tho money stands in the way,' added one Patrick O'Meara, ' it will cost such a lot for us aud our families, and how are we to get the money ? ' 1 Leave that to me, I'll find the money," Mr. Hawthorne rejoined, ' I'm not rich, as you know, but what little I have I'm putting it into this business, and if we work with hearty good will I don't doubt but what I shall Bee it all back again.' ' Thank you, sir. God bless you, sir,' responded the full hearts of his delighted tenants. 4 Then this day fortnight we sail,' Raid Mr. Hawthorne, ' and meantime I will see again those amongst you who have old ones dependent on you who may feel unable to take the voyage, and we must ?ee what can be done for their comfort.' With faces filled anew with hope and longing for the brighter future, which seemed to open out before them, and with many a

hearty ' Thank you,' and ' God bless you, sir,' the tenants went their way to talk over this big event amongst themselves. When the last of them had departed a tall man stepped from a clump of bushes which had concealed him and advanced, hat in hand, to the young girl who still sat, apparently lost in thought, on the seat beneath the tree. Perhaps she had been thinking about him, for as she raised her head at his approach she blushed Tividly and was more than a little disturbed. ' Lord Ellenmead !' she said. ' Forgive me, Miss Eileen, for playing the eavesdropper. Your father was speaking as I came up and I did not wish to interrupt.' He shook hands with her — perhaps holding the beautiful white fingers a moment or two longer than was absolutely necessary— then turned towards Mr. Hawthorne and heartily gripped his outstretched hand. ' So it is settled,' he said, ' and you are really going to brave the unknown future in the lands across the sea V ' Yes, it is settled,' answered Hawthorne. ' I only hope that all will turn out for the best. At leaßt you recognise how impossible the state of things was growing here.' ' I know you saw grave reasons for taking such a step. But my offer is still open to you, and I daresay it is not too late to draw back if you will reconsider it.' ' The offer was kindness itself ; but I told you it was useless to press me further.' ' And yet it was only a loan, Hawthorne, a few hundreds or more, to use as you thought best until the tide begins to torn.' ' The tide might never turn, and then I should have been your debtor for life. No, Lord Ellenmead, it was impossible. Besides, Eileen did not think it right.' ' And your daughter. Does she go with you V ' Yes ; I have tried in vain to persuade her to do otherwise.' ' And yet it is hard work, this pioneer life, and there is little enough amusement for a young girl. But Miss Eileen would not do otherwise. It was, of course, a foregone conclusion that where you went she would follow. And she is right, as she always is right.' There was a touch of sadness in his voice which did not escape Hawthorne's notice and confirmed what he had felt for some timethat the beauty and charm of his daughter had made more than a passing impression upon the man who stood before him. The conversation had not been heard by Eileen, who, recovering something of her usual gaiety, now interrupted them. ' You are inhospitable, dad, to go on talking when tea is waiting inside and Lord Ellenmead is wanting to go in and refresh himself.' Lord ELlenmead turned with a bright smile towards her. 'As thoughtful as ever, Miss Eileen. Suppose we lead the way and leave your naughty dad to follow V And suiting the action to the word, he boldly took her arm and turned towards the house. Mr. Hawthorne did not immediately follow, and thus the two were left alone. And so yon have decided to go, Miss Eileen, and your friends will be left behind to mope and pine away ? The young girl laughed. ' I am afraid you are overstating the case, Lord Ellenmead, for I know of no friends whom my absence could affect in such a way us that.' 'Perhaps that is because you have not studied your friends well enough to know if they would feel deeply or otherwise. I know one who will misi you, who will find Ireland robbed of its greatest charm when rou havo gone.' And do I know this friend who is kind enough to think so well of my humble self /' • You do not know him so well as he would have you. I should like indeed to think that you regarded him as warmly as he regards yon. Miss Eileen' — and here his voice lost its touch of lightness, and a deeper feeling was manifested in the tone in which he continued — 'Miss Eileen. I shall miss you more than I can say. I don't think you know ali that your absence will mean to me. The <_ irl's face flushed, and fur an inht^nt the lovely eyes flashed to his and then sought the ground. ' It is indeed good of you to say so, but other friends will soon help you to forget, or at least to think more lightly.' ' You say so, not knowing me,' he answered, ' if I have said little it is b.'oiuse I never thought that you would be going away I'kH this. I have waited, Eileen, that is all, waited until I could feel that you would not be offended if I told you that I loved you uioie dearly than auvthing on earth. It is the truth, 1 may as well tell you now. Would that I had told you so before, for then you might not have wished to go away.' She did not answer, but allowed her arm to slip from his and walked on beside him. ' You are offended ? ' ' How should I be offended — you are only kinder than I deserve. But it will make it harder for me to go, and perhaps it would have been better if I had never known.' ' Why need you go ? ' ' It is too late to think of doing otherwise, Lord Ellenmead, and in any event my father would have gone, and my duty, at least for the present, is by his side.' ' Let me talk to your father and see if I cannot induce him to remain.' ' It would be quite useless now, for he is pledged to our people, and nothing you or anyone else could say would make him go back upon his word.' They were nearing the house, and the young man again took her hand in his. ' I can only listen to one answer, Eileen. I love you. I want you to be my wife. Tell me you love me well enough, and everything else will straighten out before us.' She was silent for so long that at last he again added, ' You are not offended ? '

4 There is nothing in what you say that could offend me,' she replied, ' but there are things which make it difficult for me to answer you. My station in life iB different to yours. Your people would call it a mesalliance, and the time would come when such a thought would make you unhappy. Besides, lam going away — it may be years before these tenants can be left there to manage their own affairs, and until then my father will stay with them and 1 with him. Believe me then, it is not indifference which makes me leave you unanswered, but only my affection for you, which tells me it is better to forget that you have spoken and that I have listened.' His eyes left her face for a moment, and he looked straight before him in silence. Then he looked back to her. 1 By any affection you have for me, Eileen, never talk again of a mesalliance. It is I who am the suitor, and who would be proud of the alliance. I want you to tell me one thing, Eileen. If you were not going away — if you had not to go away — and I asked you again to be my wife, what would be your answer 1 ' There was no look of indecision in her face, though she still kept her eyes to the ground as she answered — • Yes, Hugh, I love you.' They had reached the door now and as they passed through it he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. • Thank you, Eileen ; I wish you could know how happy you have made me.' Mr. Hawthorne was waiting for them, and this time it was he who ohided Eileen for keeping Lord Ellenmead so long in the garden when tea was waiting inside. Eileen was flushed, but Hawthorne was not an observant man where women were concerned, and did not notice the new light in her eyes, nor, incidentally, that she very nearly put two lumps of sugar into the milk- jug instead of putting them into her father's cup. The meal was finished and Lord Ellenmead left. Somehow, in long, long minutes the evening wore away and the time came when Eileen could leave her father and retire to her own room. And there she locked the door and flung herself upon the bed and cried as though her heart would break. Not that she loved her father less for the new love which had entered her life, but oh ! it was so hard to leave the new love almost untasted and shut it out, perhaps for years, across a thousand leagues of sea. It is merciful to poor mankind that with the coming of daylight our Bpirits rise afresh to do battle with the new troubles to which the day may give birth, or fight more manfully the griefs which seemed so overwhelming on the previous night. The new day found Eileen more like her own sweet self. She reproached herself with selfishness on the previous day, when, in the first flush of her newly-discovered happiness, she had viewed her approaching emigration with such gloomy foreboding. She would see her lover again, perhaps often, before her departure ; he would doubtless write to her occasionally, and she might write to him in reply ; the years of her exile might after all be fewer than she anticipated, and then, when Lord Ellenmead again asked her to be his wife, she could look her happiness in the face and answer him as her heart already dictated. She felt that in leaving him unanswered on the previous evening she had acted wisely and for the best. Her father loved her so well, and she knew it, that it would have cast a shadow upon his schemes to have taken her with him at the expense of her own desires and happiness. And those schemes were the outcome of many anxious hours of thought and of much careful saving. Hi^ heart was in them, his word was pledged to their fulfilment, aud to have Eileen by his side whilst he put them into execution would be the greatest consolation in his exile. Buoyed up with these convictions she went about the preparations for the departure cheerfully, even gaily. The days passed rapidly amid the many duties which fell to her lot. until at last everything was ready. The day was at hand, and it only remained to say good-bye to the home in the old land before sailing to the new home in the land beyond the seas. Lord Ellenmead had b.?en over three times since the eventful evening when he had declared his love, but though his manner was more thoughtful, more tender, more full of courteous attention than before, he had made no direct allusion to the subject of that conversation. Like Eileen herself he seemed to have made up his mind to be as cheerful as possible under the circumstances of their early separation, and to say nothing which would add to the sadne.-s of farewell. As the evening drew near Eileen found it difficult to maintain her composure, for her lover had spoken of the necessity of his leaving early, and each moment was bringing nearer the one which Bhe feared to face — the moment in which she would have to cay 4 Good-bye.' At last he came to her, and despite all her efforts the tears came brimming to ker eyes. But then there came a totally vi expected respite. 4 It's only good-night, dear, not good-bye,' he said ; ' I shall see you again on the ship before you go.' She could not oonceal the relief it was that for even these few hours more she could think of her lover as near at hand ; for once g«od-bye was said it would already seem to her that the thousand leagues of water stretched between them. ' It is very good of you, Hugh, bat it is a long way to Liverpool just to say good-bye to me.' ' But you will like to see me there ?' 4 Ah, yes, you know how I should like it. 1 4ls not that more than recompense 7 It is not a great distance to travel to see your dear faoe once more. Good-night, Eileen ; good-bye until to-morrow.' So he left ; and the real good-bye had yet to be spoken. Before retiring that night Eileen and her father walked round the old garden and made unspoken farewells to each dearly-loved

spot. They would not see then in the morning, for they started almost at the break of day, in order to reach Liverpool in good time for the outward-bound vessel. Many a time she longed to confide in her father and have the comfort of feeling that another shared the double sorrow of her parting, but she kept back the thought which she knew was selfish, for it would have tinged even deeper yet her father's sadness, already keen enough. In the early dawn next day the hurry and bustle of departure commenced. At the railway station a pleasant surprise awaited them, for the station-master showed them to a handsome private car which had been specially reserved for ' Mr. Hawthorne and daughter." On a table within it was a small bouquet of most exquisite flowers, and beside it a beautifully bound album which contained a series of photographs of their house and garden and other views in the vicinity which Eileen had spoken of as those which she left with most regret. There was no need to ask whose fairy wand had caused such magic. They both knew that there was only one man whose kind thoughts would h-ive been so beautifully expressed. They did not even mention his name, but with her eyes suspiciously moist Eileen looked at her father and said : ' It is kind of him, dad, is it not /' ' It is like him, darling ; he is always thoughtful.' There was further thought in the flowers that almost covered the little saloon in the tiny steamer which took them to the port of Liverpool, and in the dainty refreshments and luscious fruits on the table. Most of Mr. Hawthorne's time was occupied in seeing that the arrangements which he had mide for his emigrant party had been faithfully carried out, so that Eileen was left much alone in the little saloon, and there was none there to see her kiss the beautiful white rose which she found upon the table, and which she knew was intended for herself. A few houra later they stood upon the deck of the Toronto. The party were all safely on board stowing away in their cabins the little luggage required upon the voyage, and some of them were already upon the deck again, looking their last upon the English Bhore. So far Lord Ellenmead had not put in an appearance. Eileen had furtively looked here and there amongst the crowd where his tall form would easily have been distinguished, but had not seen him. Mr. Hawthorne was busy amidst wraps and luggage, so she stood alone leaning over the rails upon the upper deck. Suddenly a voice close beside her said, ' Are you looking for anyone ?' She turned quickly, knowing that it was her lover who had spoken. ' Thank you so much, Hugh, for all the lovely flowers, and the fruit, and the beautiful pictures. No one could have been kinder if I had been a princess.' 'It was a queen, Eileen, not a princess, for whom the flowers were blooming.' ' Don't turn my head, Hugh, with such compliments. It was so good of you to have thought of all that. It made one's leaving seem less bitter, and saved one from thinking so much.' 'It was nothing, nothing, dear ; say no more about it. But now I have something to say to you. One of the passengers on this boat is a friend of mine, and I want you to be kind to him on the voyage. I know he will be grateful to you for it, and it is my own particular wish.' 'Certainly, Hugh, I will be as kind to him as I can, thinking of you so far away. Shall I see him before we sail ?' ' Yes, dear, you will see him. 1 will tell you briefly who he is. He is a man of good family who has come to the conclusion that a tew years of honest hard work on the soil will be years that he will never regret. He did nothing much over here to be proud of, for he never had to work for a living. Now he is going to try the experiment and I think it will do him good.' Eileen was looking at her watch. In a few minutes they would have begun the voyage. Her heart waa telling her that there were other things of which they might be talking than this friend, however dear. But, perhaps it was intended for the best — to keep her from thinking ot themselves until the last. ' He consulted me about his going and I answered at once : " Go, you are doing right, my friend ; besides you will then be near to protect and wacth the one you love." ' ' He is, then, engaged or married ?' ' The girl he loves will be on board, but at present she does not know that he is going with her. He thought it would perhaps be a pleasant surprise when inhtead of saying " Good-bye." as she expected, he told her that he was sailing with her.' ' Yes, she will indeed be glad," Eileen answered, but she did not look at him, and only stared straight before her and tried to keep back the rising tears which a passing thought haa conjured up. It was not unnatural to compare herself with the other girl and it waa difficult not to envy her. ' Dou you really think she would be glad V he asked. And once more Eileen only looked away, and one tear would not be restrained but fell upon her cheek. Then Lord Ellenmead was afraid he had carried his comedy too far. He laid his hand upon hers as it rested on the rail and gently pressed her fingers. • Forgive me, Eileen, I did not mean to pain you. I thought you woul i have guessed who the extra traveller was.' The bell rang out to warn for the last time those who had to return to the bhore. ' How could I guess ?' And then she started and turned to look at his smiling face — ' Oh, Hugh, you do not mean ' ' What else should I mean, my darling ? Our lives are not ao long that I should let you leave me for all the years that you otherwise might have been away. I shall learn to work and be more a man, and try to think that 1 have done at least a little something to make me worthier of you. Your dear old dad knows all about it, and that is why I want you to do something for me

before we leave the quay — something to show that you are glad I am going with you.' He was still holding her hand in his, and now he touched her fingers with a ring whose emeralds and diamonds glittered in the sunlight. He held it to the top of her finger and looked into her tearful, yet happy eyes. 1 May I V The happy eyes looked love that knew no doubt or wavering as she moved her finger so that the ring closed over it and sealed their betrothal. And at the same moment the last rope fell with a splash into thp water and the steamer moved out to sea. — Catholic Fireside.