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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1907-12-27, Page 3MOJAMMX and Maud turned the letter up and read, -"Mrs. Falconer O'Leary," and her face flushed 'almost purple, and then paled, and ehe looked from the letter to her father and her wither in a kind of amazement, "There, you perceive, my dear, what sort of a right this •misguided young man wishes to establish to you. Now, give me the letter that 1 may return it. Come, my (hare -why do you hesitate?" But Maud still detained the letter, and looked in doubt and anxiety from -her father to her mother. Daniel Hun- ter had patience with her and gave her time. At last she saki: • "Father, I•know that you are a just man, and that you will tell me what is right. 1 am very ignorant, father, and I wish to know whether tis really is my true name that is written on this letter. —because if it is.•I trust keep it!" "Your menus, my dear? Why., assured- ly not! What do you mean by such a question? Answer me." "1 meant, father, to ask whether that eeremony which was almost over had 'not suede me F•aleoner's ,wife?" "No, not if it iiad been quite over! As- suredly not. You are under age, Miss Hunter. You belong to your father •anu mother. Only they can give you in mar- riage." Maud, for all answer, silently handed her father the letter. Daniel. Hunter, after a few moments' reflection, seemed to have conquered his first emotilon of haughty indignation. He sent his ser- vant to tell Little Len to wait for an answer. And then leaving the mother and daughter together, he went bo his 'he ttidy taking the letter with him. Here ':sat down and wrote to Falconer O'Leary, intending to inclose Falconer's letter in hie own. Daniel Hunter seat- • ed. himself in his leather chair, drew is writing table before him, and sat re- efleties what he should do in this ease. Most fathers, to Mr. Hunter's circum- stances; would have felt themselves surae than justified—would have felt thenseivea constrained to break off all • 'friendly -intercourse with the wild, un- „ ` promising young radical agitator, and to• destroy at once and forever every— shadow of ,hope of his future union with his'daughter and heiress. Mast fathers would have punished the boy's insolence by sending:haelc his letter inclosed in a scornful reply, or with a more soornfnl sileuee. Most fathers would have heir- a el . their young daughter away, and brought every* influence of family affec- ' tion and filial' duty to bear upon her heart, and every allurement of travel, change of scene, society, splendod and luxury to charm her fancy, and win her from the memory of her childish love. And as far as the daughter's. welfare alone was interested, this might have been very' well, and it would have prem- ised not unfairly for eventual success; for it was evident to Daniel Hunter, as to ail others who saw it. that the af- fection of Maud for Falconer was only the tender, :guileless .outspoken love of an only sister for an only brother. Yes, this plan would have done very well for Maud, only it would have destroyed Fal- coner. And most fathers would have fol- lowed it, but Daniel Bunter was not like most mem For one reason, he had more moral power than other men, and he did not feel obliged to damn a poor boy whore be might redeem, or with ego- tistical indifference, to turn and aban- don him to his own destruction, when he could form, guide -and elevate him to fame and fortune. Falconer O'Leary was a wild, impetuous; ungoyernable• young radical ---a political ignis fatuus, Iikely to lead amen into bogs and quick- sands, where he • would also quench himself. All this was true, But instead of hurling this firy young spirit down hill as a native element, Daniel Hunter would snatch it "as a brand from the burning." would place it on a hill, where It should be a light to the world, "a burning and a shining light." 'That were a glorious thing to do, and Daniel Hunter was the man to do it. `There is no great deed ever done that is not founded on a self-oonquest, self- sacrifice—some darling selfish interest must be laid upon the altar to purchase the power of doing it. And the greater the power needed, the greater the propi- tiatory sacrifice • demanded. And under these conditions Daniel Hunter had the power to redeem this soul alive. The of- fering required from his was a great one. Do you think it was a small affair, for a man of his exalted rank, a man familiar with the adulations of the world, accus- tomed to all the splendor and refine- ments of courts and capital cities, and having one beautiful daughter, his sole heiress, to withhold her from the splen- did destiny that might await her in the great world of society, and keep her as the prize held forth to encourage and re- ward the upward struggles of a young man without family, fortune, friends, or distinction, except such as would be con- sidered a credit for hint to lose. But this Mr. Hunter resolved to do. And having thus determined, he felt himself the ar- biter of the youth's destiny, the archi- tect of his future fame and fortunes. He laid the paper out before him, took a pen, and wrote to Falconer. No words of mine could do justice to the spirit: of this letter. He began, however, by cor- recting the boy's mistake as to the claim he made upon Miss Hunter. The marri- age, he said, even supposing it had been completed, must still have been illegal without her father's consent, Miss Hun- ter being under age. "Consult," he wrote, "every lawyer you please, from a mere country pettifogger to a chief justice, and they will all, the most shallow and the most profound, assure you that you have` no legal claim upon Maud. Consult any divine- of any Christian denomination, from Congregationalist to the Catholic, and they will convince you that you have no moral or religious claim upon her. Then ask your own conscience, and it will indorse what the others have decided. Maud is at present perfectly free. And now, having cleared away the rubbish of your false foundation, let us build you a better. hope upon a surer ground.?' then he proceeded to unfold all his "great and good wishes and inten- tions for the boy. He said to him what he had said to Maud—that he pronounc- ed uo irrevoeable eentenee of separation between them; that,. on the contrary, he held her up to him' as an incentive to•high achievement—a, prize to be Avon, 'II cites ringTory to a Erg'�Ti` career and said that if the boy's love were anything better than a mere selfish and exacting passion—if it were a high and holy prin- ciple, he would surely strive for her and win her. "And I do not mean by this to say," wrote Daniel Hunter, "that you are bound to achieve a great social suc- cess, a world-wide renown. By no means. But become worthy of my child; and whether the world indorses your worth or not, you shnJl 'have her. it is not your worldly position that 1 find fault with. I myself am a man of the people, and I should say to a prince, though he were heir to a throne and came court- ing my child, what I say to you—prove yourself worthy of my bfaud before you ask me to give her to you. And now you will bear with the freedom of my 'ivords for two reasons. First, that I am the father of the maiden you love, and your father also in years and in knowledge of life. And, secondly, because I am real- ly and disinterestedly seeking your good as that of my own." Lastly, he wrote that in returning—the letter, he acted in no spirit of resentment, but from mature deliberation, and under • the street conviction. that in 'writing and superscribing such a letter the boy had been influenced by pasaion, under a to- tal misconception of his true , position toward the•maiden.'He concluded by say- ing that he should be pleased to see hire at Howlet Hall. Daniel Hunter' placed his own epistle, together With Falconer's, in an envelope, sealed and superscribed it, and rang for a °inessenger, in whose hands he •placed it to be given to Mr. O'Leary's servant, 0000000 0000400 rfi- :000 000 Is your baby thin, weak, fretful? Make him a Scoii5 Ern-1.sicm baby. ScoVf°,s Ernad sieav is Cod; Liver Oil and Hypophosphites prepared so that it is easily digested by little folks. Consequently the baby that is fed on Scoz'f',a Ernal siov is a sturdy, rosy- clieeked little fellow full of health and vigor. • r• ,4 ALI: DRuocAtSi 50o: AND $1.00. • In the meantime, Mrs. Hunter had re- oondueted her daughter back to the eheer- ful, and lightsome chamber, where they had Just commeneed Ilio morning. And when they Isere seated again:on the low, luxurious sola, before the fire, Maud dropped her head upon her mother's shoulder and burst into tears -her heart had been slimly filling for some time, and' now it over- flowed in a shower of tedrs.. "Now, I wonder why my darling weeps? Is it because she Would leave her mother so soon for that young man?" asked Mrs. Hunter,• passing her arm around her neck. "No, mother; no, sweet mother! I could not leave you for the universe. No, not that --but oh, I do feel for Fal- coner! And so would you, too, if you knew him if you knew how he needs me—if you felt how bereaved and des°• late he is without me.. Mother, you know I have been with him all. our life— I have been his helper and comforter ever since we were children. • And, oh, if you did but know how much he needs help and comfort!, if you did but know how unhappy he is." "And would my Maud marry him4•— now, tell me true." "Yes, mother, if I might, for I pity him so mueh." "Then I should grieve to see my Maud marry him. Pity is not the feeling my daughter should have for het:future hus- band, but an elevating love, c high re- spect. My Maud does not Iyet even dream of the love she may end day bear one who .shall be •worthy of her—who shall be able to sustain and ole ate her.' "But oh, mother :his empty desolate home! to find no one situ g by the hearth! It is enough to break his heart. I cannot bear to think of it.',,: - " "But his heart is not so easily broken —it is not so tender as yours—besides, he must not stay in that desolate home, It will be even well if suffering driver him forth. A mountain cottage, on a barren farm in this remote region, is no proper place for a talented young mass of this century and country, where there is work and to spare for all, He must go forth into the great struggling world and win himself a name and a place And thus the mother and child held sweet counsel together for a couple of hours, at the end of which bine Uainel Hunter joined them, and the conversa- tion took another turn. And soon after the carriage was an nouneed, and they separated to prepare for a drive to the Summit, whither Airs. Hunter was going to purchase for her daughter a nosh needed new wardrobe of the best materials that the limited country store could supply. They returned to a late dinner. 40040 000000440 4400 400 ... • P. ` ,. `M: +, *-4+' 0 That evening after Mr. and Mrs. Hun- ter had retired to their chamber, "1 feel very anxious about our Iittle girl," said Daniel Hunter.., "I have seen her eyes fill with tears seeral limes to- day. 1 do earnestly hope tha! 'his is no 'Romeo and Juliet' affair bet wee. these yens*. people." 17e' net be "llnea.ay. '1'-.ilcc.nei. CISear "' :.`'�.it e. - .th Madly, i. there 4e6St t a bxr` Litt d • don ivi aul.uv d. es •with any cath. •^'An a• xis terly affection I do not he . Maud's heart, I assure woo, has ,:er been awakened'to any stronger, ..iere exelu- sive love, than that of a sister for her brother, You might have been sure of that, by the perfect openness with which she spoke of her affection for Falconer. Do girls speak so of their lovers?" "1 judged as you do—and yet—her tears!" "They aro a sister's fears fur a poor, bereaved brother—no More than just that I" * * s: * sF ' The next day about noon, the party from the city, consisting of Sir Henry Percival, Miss Jlu aria and betty Hun- ter, arrived. They were put in posses- sion of this piece of ;secret family history as soon as possible after their establish- ment at the Hall, The delight of Tatty was affecting—it betrayed itself in. a burst 'of tears, as she preesed the new- found darling fondly to her faithful, af- fectionate bosom, Honorie embraced her adopted sister, and touched her warm, rosy cheek with her chilly lips, and then felt that she had done every- thing that was required of her. But Sir Henry Percival, the yoiuig English bar- onet,•when he was presented to the beau- tiful girl, started as if out of sleep, for he had been gazing on her in a per- fect trance of admiration. This did not especially delight Miss Honoria, who cer- tainly considered Sir Henry Per- eival as her own peculiar cava- lier, In the course of a few days, the now somewhat large family were comfortably settled in their Winter quarters, rs, and preparations were in pro- gress for (hristnrns, But in the mean- time they heard nothing whatever from Falconer O'Leary, and Maud grew daily more anxious and depressed. _. Often. in her innocent frankness site expresed her anxiety and asked her father or mother •if either had heard anything of Falconer, but her parents had Beard nothing satisfactory of the young man. In the meantime, Falconer had receiv- ed Danie'l Hunter's 'generous letter, but maddened by love, jealousy, disappoint - .meat and rage, the boy saw everything distorted through the false Medium of ihf ,paseions, and' Iii giaed thathis elainn upon land was, indisputable, and that Daniel Hunter knew it to be $o, and had writtenthat temporizing, eon dilatory letter only to gain time and put hif off indefintely. And therefore Falcon.er, to use his own expression, re- solved, "by fair means or foul," to get the,maiden, in. his power. . Ho sat up all' one nigh{: to write to her, and in the morning he took th'9 Letter' to Howler Hall, and put: Wine- he hands of James, tine parlor waiter;" with 'strict injunctions' to carry. it;•to his young mistress. And James gays it into the' charge of Susan, Maud's o.wzr.: maid; With directions to. take it immediately up to •'Miss Hunter. • , It was' as yet early iu rho morning, • and the maiden had just arisen from her beet, and Wee standing before a dressing glass combing out her long, bright riul,lets. ulnen Iler maid -entered, end laid the latter on the dressing table before her. Maud took it up; it was directed to ••Jlrs, falconer O'Leary." The young girl laid it down again with a troubled countenance, and a tremulous sigh, inquiring: "'\'ho brought tine, Susan?" "I don't know, Miss 'Hunter. ,Tames gave it to me to bring up to you." Maud took the letter up once more, turned it over, contemplated thesuper- scription wistfully, and with another sigh put it in the hand. of her maid, saying: 'Susan, take this letter back to the nlessenger who brought it, and say— mind, now, attend and repeat my words exactly, Susan ---say that it has been ntisdireeted, observe! misdirected," "Yes, miss," said the maid, receiving the letter and leaving the room to obey. And when she was gone, Maud leaned her elbows on the dressing table and dropped her face upon her hands, and soon the tears were stealing between her fingers. She wiped. them hastily away and lifted up her head as she heard her at- tendant return to the room. Susan en- tered, smiling. with the letter in her band, and said: "It was Mr. Falconer O'Leary who brought it, Miss Hunter, and he says it was not misdirected—it was for you." "And where is Mr. O'Leary?" inquired Maud, in a faint voice, as tremblingly she took the letter. "Ile went away directly, Miss Hun- ter." Maud finished her toilet and dismiss- ed her attendant, and then took up the letter, pressed it to her quivering lips, and placed it in her bosom next her heart, while she knelt and offered up her morning prayers. And then she arose from her knees. threw a light shawl over her shoulders and prepared to go down stairs, but when qufite ready she hesitated, drew the letter from her bosom, and looked at it again, and turned it over and over, trifled with the seal, dwelt -upon the handwriting, and notwithstanding the presumptpous superscription, pressed it fervently to her lips and to her bosom, and sat down upon the sofa and wept over it. She would have given much for the privi- lege of reading Falconer's letter and answering it kindly and soothipgly. But she knew her duty better. And after her fit of crying was over, she arose again, and folded the shawl across her breast and went down into the sitting room, where the family were all as- sembled for morning worship. As soon as that service was over, they all went into breakfast. And after breakfast, all dispersed, each to make ararngements for spend- ing the forenoon, either in work, amuse- ment or study. Maud went up to her father's study with the purpose of speaking to him about the Ietter she had received. She found both her parents there in con- sultaf nor?' ttpiott 8omo building plan. But th+,-pun• low enter, they broke off, weir Coo► azitatioar, and turned with smilee° to welcome their beautiful child. . She advanced to the table and laid the letter before her father. Daniel Hun- ter took it up, and looked at it with surprise and vexation. "Another letter from that mad boy; my child? and with. the saute insolent superscription? Really! But I must be tolerant. Who brought it, my dear? When did you get it? And why did you not return it by the mesenger." "Falconer in person brought it, my dear father, and when I sent it back to hint he returned it, and departed abrupt - 1,i, before I could send it a second time, and so I have brought it to you, sit." "Mad fellow! I invited hire to the house on the footing of a friend of the family. 'Thy does he not edge?" "I don't know, sir, indeed. Perhaps the letter would explain." "' "Ahl and: the seal is still unbroken! I see 1 Maud, you are a good. girl --a good girl," he said, putting his arra around her waist, and drawing her close to his side, and holding her so, while he asked: "Now, what do you think of this letter, my child? You. know, of course, it es a very presumptuous act in him to address you by his name." "He is beside himself, father." "And therefore 1 must endure, if. 1 cannotcure his mailuess. Well! this letter, my love. 1 should like to know .your secret heart—your sweet will about this." °Olt, my dear father, I should like to have it to read, and perhaps to an- swer." ' Daniel hunter gave the letter back into her hands, and embracing her fond- ly� said: lake it, then, my child. Go to your chamber,. Read and answer it, if you please to. do so. I find that I eau trust my Maud in nil things.- She is hermo- ther's daughter, truly," and he pressed a kiss upon her cheek, and arose and led her from the study. And gladly Maud hastened up into her awn apartment, closed the door and broke the seal of her letter. And such a Tetter as it was: A wild, eloquent, in: - "I can take you to a hundred Homes, right around my store, in which St. George's is used," " You can ask those, who do the baking, what they think of Ste Ge+i+rge's B ,r ng Powder "And every one of the hundred will tell you the same— that St, George's stands every Hest and never loses its strength." 1Prite far fro copy. of our Cook Book. National Drug & Che;uieal Co. of Canada, Limited, Montreal. as J passioned appeal, bringing all the power, will and obligation of the "potential mood" to bear upon the subject—com- manding, exhorting, entreating Maud to return to hien; by her duty, by .their mutual love, by her vows pledged at the altar and registered in heaven. Maud wept over it before she could compose herself to reply to it. Her answer was most loving, tender and dutiful. She spared no words t4 v.'s - sure hint of her affection and fidelityy; but she said that she belonged to her fa- ther, who had the exclusive disposal p her, and that she could not and would not trifle with her filial duty; that tie name he addressed her by it must needs be offensive to her father, and therefore very painful to herself; that if he were patient she would some day or other be pleased to wear his name, and with her father's sanction, 'too. And in conclu- sion, she wrote: - (To be._ continued.) THE QUESTION OF 'KOWTOW.' From the North China Herald just to band, we learn that the Chinese censor has memoralized the throne on the ne- cessity of abolishing the degrading cus- tom of high native ministers of the Crown kowtowing and addressing or re- plying to their Majesties on bended knees. Kowtowing has been a fruitful theme for discussion and controversy ever since the nations of the \'Vest first invaded the shores of the Great Central Kingdom. Hitherto the question csin- cerned only those who came from foreign lands on diplomatic or other missions, No one for a moment thought of sug- Besting that the kowtow was .a degrads ,ing custom so far as the Chixnese,liig'h_o1' fields themselves were eoncerned, The • kowtow before the throne consisted. in kneeing three times and touching the ground with the head thrice at each genuflexion. Western diplomats and others in Chi- na have not been in the past unanimous in their opposition to the performance of the kowtow, but the British represen- tatives from the first have consistently refused to submit to it. Lord Maeartney, who arrived in China in 17:33, as the head of the first British embassy, when presenting his credentials, would only consent to bend one knee in the presence of the Emperor. Over twenty years elapsed before the second British mission arrived in China. The question of the kowtow was again raised, and as the re- sult of his refusal to perform the cere- mony Lord,Amherst was never officially received b the Emperor, who issued ail imperial edict to the effect that the Bei, tis& Ambassador had not observed the rules of politeness in vogue in the Celes- tial Empire. The French Ambassador sent to China in 1844 received special instructions not to submit to the kowtow. These iia.- structions, however, he ignored, as he held the opinion that ambassadors must conduct themseleva according to the usages of the court to which they were accredited. The whole question during the last half century has assumed an al- together different aspect. For over one hundred years prior. to the establishment of permanent foreign legations in the CIuneso capital in 1860 European repre- sentatives were not accorded an imperial audience. Since that date the kowtow has never been insisted upon. Whether the question, :so far as foreigners aro concerned, is now finally disposed of re- mains to be seen.—Westminster Gazette. • USEFUL INSECTS. Many insets that live among plants and flowers perform a work of the great- est importance, says Veber Land and Meer. The beat known of all these in- sects is the lady bug, whose larvae do effective work in killing plant lice, Then eomes the dragon fly, familiar enough, so much 'so that few are aware of their propensity for devouring hessian flies, frit flies and other grain -destroying in- sects. Among other useful insects which we do not see as often are the ichneumon wasps and flies. Bach female of the many species bores into a caterpillar aiul lays one or more eggs in its body. These eggs hatch, and the larvae which come from them live on the caterpillar, utter- ly. deetroying it .;As they increase very rapidly'; t1to limit the increase of other insects. Next in importance are the so-called caterpillar._ fife's; ',which are scarcely' known. 51tey are useful because the", are parasitse, ,laying their eggs not in. but on, the outsides of the bodies of eat erpillass. Seen in•, the woods, they aro ,buzzing flies of, gray, black and yellow. .