The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-06-09

make lifelong sacrifices at the Dluding or
| religion What il Prendergast did really
make her mother in her last days a better
| and wiser woman, She sighed, and looked
| up at Car receptively.
No doubt of it, Car said, IN kind of re-
| ply to her sisters glance. Mamma viii be
| the happiest woman in England if you marry
| him And she has been kind mother To us,
and we ought TO please her if we can And,
besides, as I said, he may really be us 4ful 10
| mamma she thinks so much of him
Divided was Sophias heart. and her loyal
| viii was shaken when she left her sister Who
| could stand such a succession of argument
| and appeals or, if We choose to bring in /, new
metaphor, what citadel coub resist such q
number of battering rams, managed by that
eminent pagan military enginee.'. Mrs. Bar
| bara Temple. Yes; Sophia was feeling the
weakness of her sex: ~IJGiat," u yieid.
". EGERToS AND soPHIA-IDIocT vs. LOVE
| As with sad steps she was walking down
| the avenue, she was startled by the appari-
ton of Egerton, who suddenly appeared
peeping over the top OF holly bush. He
glanced apprehensively round, like paid
assassin in tragedy, and then. coming round
the holly bush with long secret Tarquin
strides, he advanced to Sophia's side
~Come here" he said, in an awful whisper
he came forth Sophia did not know what to
think; but, waiving his manner in her esti-
mate of the position, she came to the conclu-
sion that he had got hedgehog, or some
other natural curiosity which he wished her
| TO inspect; so she followed him No sooner
was she at his side than. with three or four
more fnfeaye g1ances, he stopped to her ear,
and I'm a whisper of the profoundcst caution,
| saidi
"SQnk TIA |" take my advice. and go and get
married It's an awfully nice thing. You
may take It from me that it is not 50 much
matter whom you marry as the thing it
| self Do that, and all the rest will follow.
Don't let out to any one that told you"
| And then. with an air of secrecy which
was frightfully suggestive, and the same
| ong and ghostly strides, he made for the
| louse, leaving her TO resume her path as best
| she might
| g. THE REV. ANTHONY BRENT AND SOPHIA
-DESPONDENcY vs. LOVE.
| Miss Temple " the clergyman said, with a
melancholy air, not the least feigned, al
though, by casting gloom over his conver-
sation, it greatly furthered Mrs. Barbara
| Temples ends, times have changed, changed
indeed | had a letter from my son two days
| ago.
How that good little heart leaped to hear
| it! Percival, he seemed near her once again,
and she would be strengthened now.
| How is Percival.' she asked gently
"Pretty we'll. the rector replied; "tolerably
well, | may say But he writes in bad spirits
Little wonder; his prospects are very uncer-
tain. don't think he viii ever return to
| England
| He meant to come back when he left,
poor Sophia said turning sick at heart after
her little gush of pleasure.
THAT know" the rector answered in the
same downcast tone. But his intention will
change, if it has not changed already. Per-
cival has to face life of struggle. | was
| very glad TO find that you and he had quite
broken off from each other
"We wanted to act prudently,T the poor
| girl said O how delighted she would have
| been had the rector, in the remotest way, rec
ognzed that an understanding existed be-
| tween them.
at was prudent be continued ITO you
such thing could only have meant bondage
and disappointment: and TO him well,
Sophia, greatly as | like you, | don't really
think Percival would have been so likely to
prosper had he been Still engaged TO YOU
Il could not bear the thought of injuring
him" the poor thing said She was ON the
edge of a fit of crying, but Mr.. Brent, never
a man of observation, and now quite occu-
| pied with his own cares did not notice her
agitation.
Il am sure of that, y he replied. "Of course
that is why you wholly detached yourself
from him. 1t is better for both of you Per-
cival, as you know, has returned to the man
with whom he resided when his health was
delicate. This man-W arren-is getting adj
vanced in life, and wants helper in his busi-
ness Percival, | have no doubt, viii get
that appointment, for they are very fond of
him-that is i mean Warren and his daugh-
! ter very fond of him."
"Mr. Wsrren has daughter, then." Sophia
asked
"Yes, he is a wfdower, and she is his only
child. | think-indeed, | know-that she was
rather soft on Percy when he lived there. In
| fact, one or two rather unnecessary letters
followed him TO England. / laughed then;
nop l cannot but think that if Percival man.
ages the business well and gets into the old
mans good books, and-and marries little
Bessie, as he used to call her.
"He called her little Bessie, did he:" Sophia
inquired
Little Bessie-that was her name, the rec
tor answered. "He always called her that.
1t meant nothing, of course. You see, they
were a great deal together. and Percival saws
that in the colonies people are not so stiff as
we are in England He used to say he liked
colonial manners Well to return-if he
marries Bessie it might be a nice thing for
him Indeed, it will be his solitary chance in
! life"
1t was a sore, an aching heart that lay in
Sophias gentle breast she and her mother
drove home The poor girl had not the
smallest suspicion that her mother had ar
| ranged all these nice hit e thunderclaps; but
| even had she known it, the knowledge could
not have blunted the dreadful edge of the
rector's communication. However power
full her own friends had argued, they could
not have affected her as Mr. Brent had DONE
1t seemed as if the father spoke for his son.
| 1t sounded like message from the lover him
self, saying Let us part And in the mists
of her fears and doubts the figure of Bessie
| Warren rose before her, at Percy's side, see
| ing him day by day, at the head of the house
hold of which he was to be a member,
| wealthy, and fond of Percy-known TO him
by pet familiar name What chance had
she against this fatal Bessie Warren,
Little Mrs. Barbara Temple was no tyrant,
and would not have inflicted any useless pain
ON her daughter She saw Sophia out of the
side of her eyes as they drove home, and
marked her misery, and felt really sorry for
her, but it was sorrow such as humane sur
geon feels for the shrinking patient whom
he is about to operate; it was all for Sophias
good These tears would flow and then be
gone, and after the dread and the operation,
and the shrinking and the crying, there would
be the world-the bright, prosperous world,
wealth, fashion, ease, respect-all that station
can secure and money can buy. o, no doubt
of it. she was acting the part of a wise moth
er. and so. uuenching her last misgivinp Mrs
Barbara Temple made ready for the final,
the winning stroke in her grand matrimonial
game
CHAPTER VIII
YES OR no.
Mother and daughter sat down to dinner.
Sophia's face was full of care; but by some
accident, or by the caprice of fate, she wa:
beautifully dressed, and looked very charm
ing in her sadness The beautiful attire was
! not, indeed, very surprising, for Sophia gave