Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1896-06-26
The Story Teller.
A TRAGEDY OF Duty
BY J. T. KINGSLEY TARPEY.

The little village of Daignton lie
inland from the coast about two miles
and the high ground that runs west
ward by the sea is a favorite walk il
summertime for the villagers. 1t wa
late autumn and misty evening, how
ever, when Mary Micklethwaite took
her way thither, and there was no one
on the road but herself.
The sun was already nearing the
horizon as she came in sight Of the
sea in the gray mist it hung like
ball of fire, making a red pathway
across the water. The girl turned in
among the furze bushes out of sight o.
of the road, and, seating herself on q
pile of stones, absently watched the
ball drop towards the sea line.
She was perfectly unromantic figure:
with broad, good-humored face and
a thick waist, dressed in a purple gown
with red flowers in her hat. Presently
at the sound of footstep brushing
through the furze, she got up and
turned to meet a young man who
moment after came into view.
They shook hands awkwardly by
way of greeting and the young man
said
"I'm sorry, my lass; I'm afraid thai
I'm a bit late"
"Don't name it," said the girl. 81
knew it was a chance if you got off,"
They moved slowly toward the
stones, and sat down side by side in
an embarrassed silence the young mar
made holes in the ground with his
stick, and the girl pulled off her brown
thread gloves and rolled them up in 8
tight ball in the palm of one hand
The young man spoke first
"Well, Mary" he said, clearing his
throat, "has your father anything diff
ferent to say today ?" :,
"No, Jack, t'sjust the same-it's al
no use," returned the girl. " suppose
we must grin and abide"
"You told him about the place ir
Birmingham and all ?" said the young
man.
eyes," said the girl, sadly. II pu'
the best face on it I could, but hi
wouldn't let me say much. He's thai
mad to think should want to have
you at all, and when's he's like thai
you can't change father, not If you
was to crown him with gold"
"You told him we didn't mind wait
ing ?" persisted the young man: 81
dare saw he'd think he couldn't DE-
without you in the shop first off, bul
we're not to a few months, eh, Mary p
~ never had the chance to tell hin
that" was Mary's reply. "He com
mepced calling me for what I'd done
and said wanted to disgrace him
He says I needn't think to 90 to the
choir any more; he puts it all down tt
that. I sha'n't mind that much wher
you are gone." =,
"Mary," said the young man, sud
denly and earnestly, twill you come il
spite of your father? don't see but
what we should think Of ourselves as
we'll as of him. I'll 60 to Birmingham
and get things ready for you, and I'll
put up the banns, and you can come
there to be married"
"Oh! Jack !" cried the girl, in great
distress. II couldn't 60 again father
like that. Why, he'd never hold his
head up again! You see, he'sgot only
me now that mothers gone, and
don't know what he'd do in the shop
I thought we could get one of my
cousins, and I could show her about
things but to leave on sudden like
that"
Jack was not easily to be turned
from his point; he was slow witted, as
was the girl, but the pain of this had
pricked him to keener insight than
hers. Mary was aware of nothing but
the dull pain of parting; Jack had a
forecast of the years to come. He put
it to her bluntly, with the unconscious
brutality of bis class they were young,
her father was old-was he to spoil
their lives in this way? A few years
and he would be dead, and it would
concern him no more, but they had
two-thirds of their lives to live, and
was it right they should be spoilt for
an old mans whim?
Mary had no logic wherewith to meet
this cogent reasoning; she had only a
blind sense of duty TO guide her. 1t
had never come in her way to question
her obedience to her father, and the
idea now only frightened her.
"Does it stand to sense ?" cried
Jack, in last despairing appeal.
"Well, yes, it stands to sense" the
girl allowed; ~ don't know as l can
rightly say all as I want. There's
sense and sense, Jack. When father
talks it's sense, and when you talk, it's
sense and it's as if I'd like to do one
thing and my conscience tells me to do
another. can't go again father, Jack
I can't indeed"
There was little more said between
the two as they took their way home
ward. Outside the village they paused
by common consent.
"Then I suppose it is goodbye,
Mary
81 suppose it is, Jack"
They shook hands again awkwardly
and separated.