ROGER JAMESON’S MOTHER

New Zealand Tablet, 21 December 1911, Page 13 (Supplement)

ROGER JAMESON’S MOTHER

' I am perfectly willing to be just — too willing,' said the girl. ' Yes,' said Roger, ' I understand all that. Justice is a mighty cold substitute sometimes, for ' ' Go on, please,' in a dangerously quiet tone. 'Foror, for other things!' he concluded lamely. ' That is all I can say, Adele. You know just what I mean.' ' You cannot expect me to throw myself against a blind wall of positive, unreasonable, unsurmountable dislike ! Roger, I didn't ask you to fall in love with me.' ' No, dear, you didn't.' ' I never sought you— sought me. I never showed the slightest preference—untilwell, until —-' ' Yes,' smiling at her. She frowned. ' I mean this, Roger. Until the whole thing was laid before me.' ' And then—' with a humorous twinkle in his eyes. But her head went up with a dignity that was discouraging.

such a pleasant time of the year to begin being happy. Our next Christmas — our next Cnristmas we siiail spend together.' The girl lifted her shoulders with the impatient gesture he knew so well. ' Her dislike of me is unaccountable,' she said hotly, fighting the gentleness in his voice. ' Just unaccountable. I thinK lam as good as you are. I don't imagine you are bending from any lofty height to me!' scornfully. ' This is not a case of King Cophetua and the beggar maid, Roger!' ' On, don't talk like that, Adele ! It grates on my nerves. For heaven's sake, help me to keep a rein on my temper, since yours has run away with you.' Adele threw her head back and her face grew white. But she said nothing. The man was plainly hurt. The girl did not dare to open her lips, for the hot anger that quivered through every vein. At last, with the change of attitude that is so characteristic of a woman, she leaned toward him. ' Let us talk of something more interesting,' she said. 'We have had enough unpleasantness now — and I don't want to quarrel. Don't let us quarrel, Roger. And —it is nearly tiire you went home.'

' And then considered it. Which lam still doing,' looking at him coldly. 'Which—l—am—doing. Tell your mother that, Roger.' 'No, Adele, I won't tell her that because I don't believe it, and I will not listen to you saying it. Come now, you know you love me.' ' Um-m-m. ' You know we are going to be married.' ' Maybe we are, since the ways of fate are strange. I know nothing.' You are delightfully clear.' ' A talent which I share with my sex in general.' Silence. Adele smoothed her handkerchief across her knee, and Roger, for want of something better to do, watched her. Also, for want of something better to say, continued after a few moments: You know that we—you and —intend to marry.' ' Well if we —at some distant day' The girl did not care to argue. But her face was thoughtful. ' The least little exercise of tact, darling— you are so tactful,' he said in a gentle tone. 'lt is the hardest thing in the world not to see you friendsyou two whom I love best. And the Christinas season is

' Can't we come to some different arrangement before we drop it?' he asked. ' Adele, Ido want you to meet her —I want her to meet you. Let me call for you to-morrow evening. You need stay but a few minutes.' Adele straightened up. ' No,' she said, and her face was hard as iron. ' I am surprised that you ask it. It is her place to come here. I shall not go. I shall not seek to force myself on any one. I am unwelcome. She does not want me. She has said so. She has said . . . actually wondered what her boy could see in me. Oh, I heard. She has not been any too carefulor perhaps she meant me to hear ! Let it go, let it go. I can assure you she is not essential to my happiness.' But she is my mother,' said Roger Jameson. Oh, yes,' said Adele. ' You won't, by any possible chance, let me forget— She looked at her watch. 'lt is late. She will be wondering what has detained you. Go home, Roger.' He rose to his feet. ' Adele, I cannot understand you in this biting mood is so unlike you. lam coming for you tomorrow evening.'

■Do not/ she said, ' 1 shall not be at home. I have another engagement.' ' You had no other engagement ten minutes ago. : ' I have just made onewith myself. Goodnight.' ' Good-night, dear/ he said. Then he looked at her with a deprecating smile. 'I am coming for you to-morrow evening.' ' I am sorry ; I shall not be at home.' 'To me?' ' Or to any one.' Silence. Roger Jameson sighed. ' When can I see you again ?' She was in a thoroughly aggravating mood. 'Oh, let us leave that to fate. Soon, perhaps.' She gave him the tips of her fingers, her whole attitude forbidding. ' Good night.' ' Adele, do you think I can leave you in this way ? You're angry.' . 'Please go home.' ' You are unjust and unfair to me,' hotly. Yes/ said Adele, waxing cold as he waxed warm. ' I agree to that—l am unjust and unfair to you. Now go home.'

A better girl than Adele would have been hard to find, but she had none of the brilliant attainments or great beauty which Roger Jameson's mother expected in Roger Jameson's wife. The mother thought her one boy the perfection of manliness. Adele Annesley, being self-willed, pretty, and independent, having, as a general rule, calm judgment and good common sense, recognised the fact that Roger was a young man of sterling worth, not too clever, but still above the average mentally. She saw the faults his mother could not see, as well as the virtues which mother-love expanded into heroic size. She resolved, with the high aim that is a good girl's when the good man she loves asks her to share his life with him, that she would help him to conquer his failings and to live up to his ideals. But she reckoned without Roger Jameson's mother, and a certain unsuspected vein of hardness in her own character. At first when she discovered that the mother did not approve of her, she was bitterly hurt. But that disapproval—based as it was on a dislike for what she termed the girl's 'haughty manner/ her air of condescension,' ' her general touch-me-not attitude/ was so utterly without foundation that the bitterness gave

' Don't Adele.' She tapped the floor with her foot —his hurt tone placating her. He stood looking at her a few moments, not understanding that behind that averted face, with its mute indifference, there was a warmth of feeling which was striving, in spite of her repression, to come to the surface. If he had pleaded again they would have parted in friendly fashion. But the hopelessness of this hour-long argument sent him suddenly into a rage with the girl he loved, with himself, with the world in general. He yielded to it, turning on his heel abruptly. 'Good-night,' he said. The next moment the door banged after him. Adele Annesley listened to his footstepsshort, angry, determined steps—until they died away. Then, with moist eyes, she went back to the arm-chair she had vacated and sat down before the glowing grate fire. It was an old storya common one. The only child, a boy—his doting mother—and the girl he loved.

way to anger. Had Roger been wise and allowed the matter to drop, things would have, ad justed themselves. But he knew his mother well. Hasty of judgment she might be, but so tender and sympathetic! And he desired to bring her and Adele to the point of better acquaintanceship — who had never known a mother's love. He could appreciate, in his man's one-ideaed way, what a comfort it would be to his mother to have such a daughter, and what a blessing it would be to Adele to know his mother as she really was. He saw the good points in each, and the very thought of ' choosing' —hateful word ! —between the two, fairly maddened him. So that was the state of things, and that was how matters stood on the night that he left the girl he loved with something like despair in his heart. Everything looked so easy, so plain and easy, if the two so dear to him would but regard each other in the right light. He

was of a sunny, jovial disposition, naturally, with a fund of good humor, and could meet many disagreeable things without being affected by them. But tins was a vital question. His intimacy with the girl he loved, his eagerness to identify himseif with her every thought and sentiment, brought him into contact with an obstinacy that surprised him. She was gentle of disposition, he knew, with a gentleness far removed from weakness. His mother was lovable and gentle, also, but she frowned when he mentioned Adele's name. For the week following the quarrel Adele was miserable. Roger did not call the next day, or any of the six days afterward. The girl passed through all the stages of anger, rage, expectation, anxiety, and surprise, and had gradually settled into a dull, cold indifference that was worse than any. She tied up the Christmas gift she had purchased for her lover and threw it on her dressing-table, where it would remain, she vowed, until she heard from him. It was an unpleasant mood in which to spend the Christmas season. Adele was fighting the question with herself as she knelt after Mass on Christmas morning. Roger had chosen to stay away a whole week

The girl went back to the church and dropped into one of the end pews, bowing her head over her clasped hands. Roger's mother, wnoni he loved so well, was dying! The poor, poor soul! Oh, why had he not sent for her ! Surely she knew she would go to him if he but sent her word. And he had not sent her word ! He had kept her in ignorance; he had not told her. Strangers could know of it, but not the girl lie claimed to love. Once again her pride rose up in arms —but the thought of the day, and of Rogerher Roger, for whom she cared so —restrained and conquered her. With a little prayer for pardon and courage on her lips she rose from her knees and turned her steps, not toward her home, but toward Roger Jameson's. Her face was white, and her resolution almost failed her when she reached it. But she had a certain fine spirit of her own, and she called all her will-power to her aid as she mounted the. stoop and rang the bell. She scarcely recognised the man who opened the door to her, so had Roger Jameson changed in a week of worry and anxiety. For a moment he stared at her. Then she entered and closed the door behind her,

without explanation. Why should she seek him? Or try to become friends ? If he did not care, why should she? Perhaps he had told his mother of their quarrel and she had advised him to neglect her for a while. Perhaps it would well, perhaps just as well if she closed the matter at once and sent him back his ring ! Adele checked this train of thought, remembering where she was, and rose from her knees. Pier face was quite pale, and she was actually unhappy as she walked down the aisle behind two young ladies whom she knew and who knew her. As she passed them in the vestibule a name stayed her steps. 1 It will be a sad Christmas for poor Roger Jameson/ said one. 1 Oh, have you heard ? How is she V ' They had little hope last night. It seems such a pity! To lose one's mother on Christmas Day!' The girl shivered. Adele, standing still suddenly, shivered also. This was the reason why Roger had not come. His mother was dying 1 His mother I

and they stood looking at each other. Adele put -out her hand with a little cry. 'Roger,' she said, 'oh, my poor Roger!' The tenderness and pity in her voice, the love on her face, nearly unmanned him. He put his arm about her silently, and she touched his cheek with a comforting hand. 'Who is here with you?' she asked. ' There is a nurse in charge. She looked at him reproachfully. ' And you did not send for meyou did not let me know.' ' I thought you would hear and come. And then, when the days went by, I thought you would not come. She was sick when I got home that night, and I had to insist on medical attendance. Since then I have scarcely stirred out of her sight. There is a fighting chance, the doctor says, but we are to expect a bad turn at any time to-day.' Adele's eyes filled.

'Oh she said impetuously. 'lf only I had been more yielding. She would surely have grown to care for me. Roger —please —may i see her';' ' It will not hurt her/ he answered. 'Roger, Roger! Why did you not send for me?' She could think of nothing else to say, so great was her seif-reproach, her self-blame. When they reached the bedroom door, she stopped him. 'Let me go in alone/ she said. She is conscious?' 'Oh, yes; she has never lost consciousness.' ' Then I will go in, Roger —just for a few minutes, dear.' He stood aside to let her pass. Adele, in the softened light of the room, could barely make out the features of the woman lying on the pillow. But the woman recognised her and was watching her as she drew near with hesitating steps. At the foot of the bed the girl paused, not knowing if she slept. 'Well?' asked Roger Jameson's mother, in a hollow tone. 'What do yovt want?' Adele could not answer —the sharp question embarrassed her. Then, obeying a sudden impulse, she moved around and fell on her knees at the bedside. There was a timid, pleading expression on her sweet face and her eyes were humid. ' I have come to wish you a merry Christmas,' she said slowly. ' I did not hear of your illness until this morning—at Massand I came at once. Please, please, be friends with me,' she went on, her breath catching in a little sob. 'I am so sorry you are ill, so truly sorry. Try to believe me and be friends with me.' Mrs. Jameson, who had resigned herself into the hands of her Maker, preparing, at the doctor's verdict, which she insisted on hearing, to give up all hope of recovery, feit new invigoration run through her tired body. This was not tiie haughty, self-assured young woman who would estrange her boy from her, the proud girl who would set her aside, close her out of Roger's life forever. This was a little childish creature, with tear-filled eyes and soft red lips supplicating her favor. She looked at her, and an affection as strange as it was sudden seemed to spring up in her bosom. 'You see,' went on Adele, in a tender, humble tone, I've never had a mother, and I'm so ignorant, and I've made Roger so miserable. I lo\e Roger dearly, and if you will but love me, too, for his sake, I shall be so happy —' Mrs. Jameson raised her hand slowly and held it out to her. 'Poor little child! I've been a wicked woman, dear. I thought you cold-hearted and indifferent, and I could not bear to see Roger drift away from me altogether..- lam older than you. I should have had more sense.' 'No, no, no!' said Adele fervently. 'Oh, no! Only say that you forgive me.' 'Where is Roger? Call him.' The young man entered almost as she said the words, and a glad light sprang to his tired face when he saw his mother's arm about his sweetheart's shoulders.' ' Here's your little girl,' said the mother, looking up at him, ' come to wish me a merry Christmas. Be good to her, Roger.' 'I am sorry I was so harsh,' said Adele, and T have asked your mother to pardon me. And you,' with a sweet smile into the old, worn countenance, ' you are not going away from usnow.' Mrs. Jameson smiled faintly. 'Perhaps not,' she said. 'I should like to live a little while —if only to see you both married.' ' I am sure you will,' declared Adele, in her hopeful young voice. ' Roger, do you remember what you said to me a week ago —Christmas is such a good time to begin being happy in ? Roger, let the three of us begin to be happy now.' For answer he raised the hand nearest him to his lips. The unrest and disquiet had left his mother's face. ' The three of us,' she repeated, from now on—the three of us. God willing, we shall not be separated yet. A merry Christmas, daughter.' 'A merry Christmas, mother!' said Adele, and kissed her. — Benziger's Magazine.

Further large reductions r\ow made in, cost of administration,. Ihe PUBIIC TpST OFFICE seeks to be merely self-supporting. j