The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1898-08-16
A PHILANTHROPIST.

A PHILANTHROPIST.
"Whom do you think 1 saw driving
with Gerald Morton this morning?"
asked Mrs. Morris of her great friend,
the doctor wife, as the two ladies were
enjoying o'clock tea and the general
gossip of the parish together one after
noon.
"Beatrix Harcourt, Mrs. Maynard
answered promptly.
"Ah, you saw her, too, then. l must
say l was astonished 1t is we'll known
that young Morton bears the character
of being the fastest man in the neigh
borhood"
81 have long ceased to be surprised
at anything Beatrix Harcourt does, :"
the other lady answered Significantly.
eff Mr.. Kenrick does not mind, l do
not see why any one else should trouble
their heads about her eccentricities.
Certainly not, Mrs Morris agreed.
"But really, Rose, she was laughing
and talking in the most familiar man
ner, and Gerald was bending toward
her until his face nearly touched hers 7"
"And that is our future wears wife
Well, l shall take care my daughters do
not see much of her. - And Mrs May
nard drew herself up with a kind of
lofty indignation as some fresh visitors
were shown into the room.
Poor Beatrix! Her numerous delin-
quencies were the subject of many aft
ernoon tea gossips, and had been ever
since she came to chichester, four years
ago. She certainly was unlike other
girls, for in addition to being "blue
stocking" and having taken her degree
at Oxford she had most unreasonable
interest in the working classes-not a
mere ladylike interest, which contented
itself with calling at their cottages with
a few words of good advice and track
All, no; she had always some plan or
craze, y as the good people of Hillches-
ter called it, for their benefit on hand
classes for the young girls ambulance
lectures, concerts, teas, what not
For the conventionalities of society
she cared not at all. She never attend
ed the afternoon teas, therefore she
heard no gossip. She was not even par
ticular about being in the fashion-in
fact, the black serge dress she usually
wore looked, from constant exposure to
the weather, as if it had seen better
days.
She had been known even to take the
broom off the lame old crossing sweeper
at the corner of the road and work away
in earnest until there was passage fit
for queen to walk over.
And in spite of all the vicar OF Hill
chester had asked Beatrix Harcourt to
be his wife Well, as the leaders of So
oiety in Hillchester remarked with omi-
nous signs, wonders would never cease.
Nevertheless it must be confessed
that Rev. John Kenrick was in no very
enviable frame of mind as week later
he wended his way somewhat slowly
toward his ladyloves abode.
The gossip which had begun in Mrs.
Maynard S drawing room had spread all
over the parish, until version of it,
highly exaggerated and colored, had
reached even the wears ears.
Beatrix soon discovered something
was amiss, and after the first greetings
were over she asked almost anxiously:
"What is the matter, John? You do
not look we'll "
For full minute Mr.. Kenrick did
not answer. Instead he looked down at
her as she stood with one small hand
resting upon his black coat sleeve, the
sunlight falling with loving touch upon
her fair hair, WHICH was cut short IAN
other point which met with the disfavor
of the Hillchester matrons), and curled
naturally all over her head like a
child's.
Erik, it is silly perhaps but some
thing l have heard today has troubled
me greatly %
about me?" Trix asked gayly. "Of
what fresh enormity am 1 accused,
John?" and a sudden gravity crept into
the sweet voice. 81 thought you said
that you minded none Of these things
ri do not, P" the vicar answered quick
ly. Indeed, gently stroking the soft,
yet strong looking hand, 81 love you
all the better for them; butt is bet
ter to speak out Trix, have you been
driving with Gerald Morton lately?''
The neSt moment Mr. Kenrick would
have given much never to have asked
the question. for Trix turned to him
quickly, a whole world of scorn shining
in her blue eyes,
"And so, John, this means that you
cannot trust me, and you choose rather
to believe any idle story people may
tell. -
"Tell me there is no truth in it,
TriX, Mr.. Kenrick said quietly, though
his eyes had cIouded with a deep look
of pain beneath her implied rebuke,
"and promise you l will believe it. -
But Beatrix had removed her hand,
and all the sunshine had died out of her
bonny face as she said YEARLY: Mr..
Morton has driven over to Castlefields
twice this week Is there anything else
you want to ask me?"
No, there was nothing else. Mr.. Ken
rick felt it was almost saorilege with
those pure eyes looking into his to
breathe the doubts which now seemed
to him so unworthy.
1t was a month later, and Beatrix
Harcourt was walking swiftly along the
dusty road leading to Castlefelds, car
rying small basket containing some
delicacy for the sick woman she was
going to see. The sound of wheels made
her turn her head, and the next moment
deep, musical voice said pleasantly:
Miss Harcourt, are you again bound
OH the same journey? Now do let me
have the pleasure of giving you lift. y
Beatrix hesitated one moment; then
she answered frankly: "Thank you SO
much. You know Jennie, that poor
crippled child | told you about. Well,
have had note from her this morn
ing to say her mother is very ill, and
there is no one to do anything for her. "
Gerald Morton looked admiringly
down at the fair face beside him. 1t
was the young men of chichester who
mad given Beatrice Harcourt the name
of 1.-THE fair philanthropist, F" and it
spoke we'll for the girl that even in the
fastest circle her name was never men
toned but with respect.
When Beatrix reached the little cot
tage, which lay close to wood five
miles from Hillchester, she found every
thing in a state of confusion. One
glance at the poor woman showed her
to be in high state of fever and slight
ly delirious while an ominous crimson
rash was beginning to make its appear
ance on her face and neck.
"Why, Jennie, your mother has the
feverPi Beatrix exclaimed rapidly.
Haven t you sent for doctor, child?
And 10 Ahnro No ,1riCh hnr who Unnld