A CHILD OF THE MANSE.

White Ribbon, Volume 23, Issue 269, 19 November 1917, Page 11

A CHILD OF THE MANSE.

Gertrude Cockerell.)

(Continued.) It was earl) evening when Pearl’s long journey came to an end, and she found herself an inmate of the home of a cous<n wKo had offered her asylum, 'lire family into which she was ushered consisted of her cousin, “hyliis, and her husband. He, Pearl soon learnt, was a mere figurehead m tin home. His manifold gifts which brought him honour and respect outside the home, were openly flouted by Ins wife and daughter as not financially profitable, and well it was for him that a comfortable income left them no cause for complaint, and he free to devote his gifts largely to the benefit of his fellows. Phyil.s was one of those elusive creatures it is not easy to describe with justice. She seemed two persons in one the better of the two usually in evidence save to the inner circle of the home. Outside this circle she passed as a woman of g'reat worth. Her generous gifts costing her nothing, were a cheap passport to favour. Then her pathetic, concerned, tender, or affectionate manner, the reflection of some passing mood, drew* many to her side.

The sun that reveals beauty reveals also ugliness, and so it was that Pearl’s very virtues—her uprightness, const ientiousness, thorough discharge of duty, though these were never on parade, as such, were a constant rebuke to Phyllis, and, therefore, of irritation. The more she tried to flounder out of the awkward and humiliating positions created by her defects of character—markedly, her lack of the domestic virtues—the more deeply did she become involved, and poured out upon the innocent and defenceless victim the vials of her wrath, as the cause of her discomfiture. How pitilessly out talc will yet unfold.

The other inmate of the home was the servant, a woman of some sterling qualities, \l these could only have been brought into play, but the problem was how. In the hands of a good mistress she would have been the ‘‘good servant” Phyllis persisted she was, despite all evidence to the contrary. In offering her cousin a home, Phyllis had well-weighed the pros, and cons. Evelyn, the daughter, was married, and although her mother had represented her as ‘‘useless in the home,” its now all too-apparent neglect, compared with its former well-kept appearance, showed plainly who had been its presiding genius. The subject had been well ventilated in family and other circles as to ,he part Pearl should play in the new home. ‘‘Of course she will more than fill your married daughter’s place out of gratitude for your kindness,” said one. “Take care the young puss doesn’t oust you as mistress. Hold the reins firmly in your own hands,’’ said another. “Yes, indeed,” added a third, “she must not think that because she has for so long been mistress at the Manse, she is going to be mistress here,” remarks unfortunate enough for one so easily swayed by others’ opinions as was Phyllis. It was quite plain to Sarah, the maid, that “the Missus set no store by the new comer.” But this in itself would not have made the kind-hearted woman join the rank of Pearl’s persecutors. She was sorry when her Mistress told her to clear out the lumber room for Miss Wilson, and when into it were pressed all sorts of odds and ends, both old and inartistic, to form the furnishing of her bedroom, it was plain that Sarah disapproved, and her Mistress condescended to explain, “I shall be glad to use my daughter’s bright, warm room for working in sometimes. Besides it will be always ready for her when she pays us a stray visit.” The evening meal finished, Phyllis said, “I daresay you will be glad to

get to bed early, Margaret. You see,” she added, “I intend to call »ou Margaret from the commenccmei t. I object to ridiculous fancy nann s. It was not that Pearl objected to the change, but the allusion to ’he name fond lips had uttered, and t it* jerky, aggressive manner, and nas; 1 twang, and continued word) remarks, jarred upon her sensibilities, and her e>cs filled with tears. It was full moon when Pe lrl entered the room allotted her, ani by its light began to separate her things. The room was a little larger than the one that had been hers at tf e Manse, but what .1 queer shape it was, and how different its appointments tc those to which she ha 1 been custoi tNo cosy chair, no footstool, no bookcase for her books, odd crockery and chipped. Painfully, the bareness ana ugliness of the room struck upon her refined and art Stic nature. With a gasp she flung open wide tl e window. To her dismay a wall shit out all view. She stood still a moment dazed, irresolute, lrke a bird that had been trapped. Her bedroo mat the Manse had overlooked its pretty garden, and here and there were house? nestling among the trees, and a vas stretch of hill and country in the dis.ance. How reconcile herself to such a charge Stay where she was she felt she could not, but where escape? ‘Where indeed?” mocking voices seemed to answer, and then she recalled what her father had said about “tight places.” “It means, my dear peop e, that wo are just shut up to God, and Oh! if we will cast ourselves wholly upon His love and help. He will break our prison doors, and bring the raptive forth into a large pi. ice.” Kneeling by her bedside, Pearl rolled her burden on the Lord, but her pillow that night and many a night were wet with tears. (To be Continued.)