The Red Cloud chief., 1884-08-15
CHAPTER TX.
REV. MONTAGUE HI.Axp

to"h- MI. Nnlttlestaff had had his
own troubles in thinking Of the uD-
lucky coincidence Of John Gordon's re-
turn, and had wandered forth deter
mined TO leave those two together, so
that they might speak to each other As
they pleased And, during his walk,
he did come TO a certain resolution.
Should a request Of any kind be made
TO him by John Gordon, it should re-
ceive not the slightest attention. He
was a man TO whom he owed nothing.
and for whose welfare he Was not in the
least solicitous. ..Why should | be
punished and hc be made happy" II
was thus he spoke to himself. Should
he encounter disappointment, in order
that John Gordon should win the object
on which he had set his heart? Ger
tainly not. His own heart was much
dearcr TO him than that OF John Cor
don.
But il a request should be made by
Mary Lawric? Alas. if il were SO, then
there must be sharp misery in store for
aim. In the first place, were she to tell
him that this man was lear To her, how
was it possible tlIas he should go to the
altar with the girl, and there accept
from her her troth? She had spoken Of
a fancy which had crossed her mind re-
speeding a man who could have been
no more than a dream to her. of whose
whereabouts and condition-nav, of his
very existence she was unaware. And
she had told him that no promise, no
word of W had passed between them.
"ies. You may think of him." he had
said, meaning not TO debar her from the
use of thought, which should be open to
all the world. .'but let him not he spo-
ken of" Then she had promised; and
when she had come AGAIN to Withdraw
her promise. she had done so with some
cock-and-bu story about the old wo-
man, which had he'd no weight with
him. Then he had her presence dur
ing the interview between the three on
which to form his Judgment. AS far As
he could remember, she had spoken
hardly above y word during that inter-
view. She had sat silent. unhappy,
but not explaining tire cause of her I'M
happiness. 1t might well be that she
should be unhappy in the presence OF
her aflianced husband and her old lover.
But now, if she would tell him that she
wished to he relieved from him, and TO
give herself To this stranger, she should
be allowed to 60. But he told himself
that he would carry his generosity no
further. He was not called upon to of
fer TO surrender himself The mans
coming had been a misfortune; but let
him 90, and in proc IS OF time he would
be forgotten. IL was thus that Mr..
Whittlestaff resolved.
1t was 10 nearly five O'Clock, and
Mr.. Whittlcstaff. rs Gordon was told.
dined at SIX. He felt that he would not
find the man before dinner unless he re-
manned at the house-and for doing so
he had no excuse. lie must return i'm the
evening. or sleep at the inn and come
back the next morning. He must man.
ace to ca,ch the man alone. because he
was assuredly minded TO use upon him
all the power of ~eloqucnce which he had
at his command. And. Is he thought
it improbable to find him in the even
inc, he determined to postpone his
task. But. in doing SO. he felt that he
should he at a loss. The eager words
were hot now within his memory, hay
inc been sharpencd against the anvil ol
his thoughts by his coiloquy with Mary
Lawrie. Tomorrow they might have
cooled. His purpose might be As strong;
but a man when he wishes To Use burn
inc words should use them while tho
words are on fire.
John Gordon had n friend at Aries
ford, or rather an acquaintance, on
whom he had determined 10 call, and
he went forth To call on Rev. MIR.
Blake. OF Mir. Blake he only knew
that he was a cura.te of a n~eighborine
parish, and that they two had been NJ
Oxford together. So he walked down
to the inn to order his dinner. not feel
inr his intimacy with Mr.. Blake suffi-
cient to Justify him in looking for hi:
dinner with him. a man always dimes
let his sorrow be what it NAV. A woman
contents herself with tea. ana mitigate
her sorrow by an extra cup. John
Gordon ordered a roast fowl and asked
his WAY TO the curate's house.
Rev. Montaru Blake was curate %
Little Alresford, a parish, lying about
three miles from the town. The vical
was A feeble old gentleman who hac
con, AWAY Ia die in the Riviera. ant
MIR. Blake had the care of the souls Il
himself. He was 4 man whose line
had fallen in pleasant places. Their
were about two hundred n fifty men,
women and children in his parish. an
moi n pissenter among them. For iook
inv after these folk he had one hundred
and twenty pounds per annum, and a:
pretty a little parsonage rs could u
found in England. There WAS a squir'
with whom he was growing in grace
and friendship. who. being the patron
OF the living, might possibly bestow /
upon him. Ii was worth only two han
dred ami fifty pounds. and was not
therefore. too valuable 10 be expected
He had a modest fortune OF has own
three hundred pounds a year. perhaps
and-for the best q: his luch shall III
mentioned last-he was engaged TO tn
daughter of one OF the ~prebendarieS o
Winchester, Il pretty, bright LIT
tie Girl, with a further sum o
five thousand pounds belonging Il
> herself. He was thirty years o
age. in the possession of perfec
health, and not so strict as 20 max
il necessary for MIN TO abandon any o
the innocent pleasures of this world
He could dine out, and play cricket
and read a novel. And should n
chance when riding about the PARISH
or visiting some n~eighboring parish, L
come across the hounds, he would no
scruple to see them over a held or two
So that Rev. Montagu Blake was, upol
the whole, a happy fellow.
He and John Gordon had beel
thrown together at Oxford for a shor
time during the last months of thei
residence, and, though quite unlik
each other in their pursuits, circum
stances had made them intimate. ]
was we'll that Gordon should take