Prayer-Book and Ledger.

White Ribbon, Volume 1, Issue 2, 1 August 1895, Page 7

Prayer-Book and Ledger.

By M.S.P.

A STORY FOUNDED ON FACT

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-j

Chapter 111. ..Gertrude raised her eyes to her husband’s face and said, “ But, Richard, some of my poor women may fall like the one I saw this afternoon. I was talking about it to Mrs Jones, and asking her if it wouldn’t be better not to have beer in the house at all when her husband is nearly always drunk; and then 1 kept thinking of my own glass of wine.” “ Well, Gertrude,’ —Richard spoke almost testily—“ what can that possibly have to'do with your taking a little stimulant for the benefit of your health ? I suppose your father knows what he is talking about, and are you to be debarred from what you really need just because two or three drunken sots can’t stop drinking when they’ve had as much as is good for them ? How absurd it is ! ” He paused for breath, and resumed more gently: 44 You stand upon a much higher level than those who don’t take it at all, for you shew tc the world that it is quite possible to use God’s good gifts without abusing them. Come, my darling, for my sake, for the sake of our dear little son, for the sake of our work, you must do everything you can to get strong again.” He dropped on one knee and put his arm tenderly around her. Gertrude leaned her head on his shoulder with a puzzled, troubled expression, and, after thinking for a moment, replied : “ Very well, dear, it shall be as you think best ; 7 don’t know w'hat to do. ’

Her husband accepted the surrender with anothei caress, and then said :

“ These things must be ordered at once. Can Jane go to the chemist’s and Murrays ? ” “ She has had baby all the afternoon, and is now getting tea ready ; she can go after.” “ Never mind, I will just run myself. Ta ta, Baby ! ” and he disappeared.

Gertrude commenced treatment the next day with her father’s prescriptions, for her husband was determined to “ sti ike while the iron was hot.” In September he arranged with a brother curate to take his place for a month while he went with his wife and child to Cromer, where the bracing sea breezes soon put a little colour into the cheeks of the former. The tonic was discontinued but he argued that it would not be wise to give up the stout until little Lionel was weaned. Then came a bitterly cold winter, and he insisted, not knowing, mistaken man, that alcohol while producing the sensation of warmth really lowers the tempera-

ture of the body —upon its being kept up to “ keep the cold out.’’ After that it took its place as a regular article of diet. The long winter was followed by a peculiarly trying spring. The curate was out nearly all day visiting his poor parishioners, among whom ilifed, ill-clad, and badly housed—the East winds wrought terrible havoc. Meanwhile his wife spent her time chieflv in making beef-tea, soup, and other articles o( invalid diet for them, and visiting any who lived near at hand. Master Lionel, the pride and delight of his parents, seemed to tlourish anywhere and at all times. He was trotting about the house now with little active fingers, getting into every imaginable mischief One morning while busy upstairs, his mother missed him, and after a search discovered the truant seated on the bath-room floor, cleaning his teeth with the soft tooth brush which she kept for the purpose of putting polish on her shoes. The cork was out of the bottle, and inky streams trickled down his pinafore. She softly withdrew, returning a moment later with Jane, and as they peeped cautiously in to get a good view before disturbing the “ little being,” the front door-bell rang sharply. It was the telegraph-boy with a summons to Chelfoid. The doctor had been thrown from his horse on the previous night, and now lay dying. His daughter hurriedly packed what was necessary, while her husband studied Bradshaw and arranged for the supply of the pulpit on the following Sunday. In an hour’s time they were rattling over the stones in a cab on their way to catch the mid day express from Paddington. After the marriage of his daughter the doctor had gone to reside with a widowed sister living just outside the village. It was her son who met the travellers at the little station and imparted the sad intelligence that the injured man was still unconscious, and sinking fast. The next day he breathed his last, being visited by a gleam of intelligence only long enough to allow of his giving Gertrude one bright smile of recognition a smile which lived in her memory through all the years to come. They laid him to rest in the quiet, moss-grown churchyard, and Gertrude undertook the sad task of arranging what should be done with his effects. Her father had not amassed a fortune, for most of his patients were poor ; but all that he had was left to his beloved and only child.

(To hr continu'-d.)