The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1890-07-13
THE CURATE'S BETROTKED

From Belgravia
The Rev. Wilfrid Bishop, Curate of st.
Peters, Marlborough, sat over his untasted
breakfast with a very anxious face. He held in
his hand a letter which caused him considerable
agitation. 1t was short, dated Marlborough,
and signed with a feminine name. 1t was a re-
quest to call upon the writer cat his earliest
convenience" The note came from Amy
Shook who when the Reverend Wilfrid was
living at home had been his mothers maid. At
that time she was blessed with pretty face and
taking manners, and the young man had enter
tanned a boysh passion for her. There was
nothing dishonorable in his intentions He
would never have wronged the young woman,
even had she permitted him, and this she cer-
tainly would not have done, for though trife
"fighty,' she was respectable and well-be-
haved girl. Before this love affair had lasted
long enough for the young man to tire of it
Amy quilted his mothers service, and after she
was gone he was imprudent enough to write her
several endearing letters. Though they con-
tained nothing of an exactly compromising ma
ture, the recollection of having written such
sentimental stuff was enough to make the au-
thor blush when he reached years of discretion.
Indeed, the Rev. Wilfrd had for some time
those letters lest they should ever crop up
against him. But when couple of years
passed, and he neither heard nor saw anything
of his quondam love, he persuaded himself that
she had forgotten all about him.
This apparently harmless note, then, showing
that she was actually present in Marlborough,
gavehim nasty shock. What was the womans
object? Doubtless she had retained those let
tiers and meant to make capital out of them.
Certainly-so far as mis- memory served him
there was nothing in them to give her an actual
hold upon him. Still he shrank from the pros
pect of their being shown to any of his North
borough acquaintances, among whom he had
won the reputation of being unusually pous
and '!proper.n Besides, there was one person
especially through whom the woman might
strike at him, namely, Miss Isabelle Hardinge,
his rector's daughter, to whom he was just en-
gagged. And the thought of his former fiirta-
tion with a servant maid being ruthlessly laid
bare before his simple-hcarted, refined fiance
sent a cold shudder down the luckless Curate's
back.
The woman, Shook, would probably demand
money. His resources were not large, but he
would willingly give her all he had if only she
would hand him over those siX-he knew the
exact number well-fatal letters. His best
COURSE was " Stt IlcI uJ OuCG anu ulSCUVeT eH-
actly what she wanted True, he shrank from
the interview. But he must face it some time,
and the sooner the better
Acting on this resolve, he took his hat and
umbrella directly after breakfast and started off,
with pale face and troubled mind, to call upon
Amy Shook. just as he rang the bell of the
house where the woman was lodging somebody
came hurriedly out of the door, ran into the
Curate, and nearly knocked him backwards.
Recovering from his momentary astonishment,
the Reverend Wilfrid recognized the man who
had comeinto collision with him. 1t was Charlie
Deyerill, a young solicitor, whom he knew very
well They had not always been good friends,
owing to the fact that they had both been aspi-
rants to Isabelle Hardinge's hand. But when
the young lady finally decided in favor of the
Curate Deverill accepted his defeat with good
grace, and had ever since been very affabe
toward his successful rival Just now, how
ever, he seemed a trihe embarrassed by the
meeting and apologized profusely for his awk-
wardness. Then he hurried away.
"Iwonder what he has been here for ~ thought
the Curate. "It cannot have had anything to do
with-pshaw what foolish thoughts do get into
ones head when one is nervous /"
But here his reflections were cut short by the
appearance of the elandlady, of whom he inquired
for Miss Amy Shook, and by whom he was
shown up to that young woman's apartment
1t was regular lodging-house room, of the
commonest type, But the Curate had little at
tentiOn to spare for the furniture of the room
being chiefly taken up with its occupant, who
came forward to greet him in very empresSG
manner. He took mechanically the hand which
she extended to him, ignoring with a shudder
the warmer method of greeting that her lam
gushing glance seemed to invite. Her annear-
ance filed him with disgust He could see she
had drifted into rugged paths since the time Of
their previous acquaintance. Not trace of her
former modesty of demeanor and scarcely a
trace of her former charms remained, while
the glare of daylight showed the paint upon her
cheeks with sckening clearness. And to think
that woman like this held him at her mercy 1!
SHOW are you, WilfridY she said.
"Oh, l am very well, thank you," he an
swered.