The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1902-05-23

tered some cultural sounds, as if in an
effort to articulate. talked to him a
little, though was not sure he could
hear me; or, hearing, could under
stand; told him his niece had gone
away to the seaside; hoped it would
do her good, for she had been in very
anxious state of mind since her fathers
loss. 1t gave myself some relief to
speak these things. When / rose to go
away, he looked me shrewdly up and
down, and watched me to the door. A
week or two passed before | saw him
again.
My time was taken up with attempts
to provide a post for myself against the
day when l should leave that at Tim
perley. Under ordinary circumstances
l would have taken the opportunity Of
the season of the year, and such a juno
ture in my affairs, to spend holiday
among my friends; but was now con-
vinced the mystery | was pledged to
clear up was in Timperley, and / was
resolved to sit down and besiege it
there-the more .obstinately resolved,
since | knew Steinhardt SO heartily
wished me away.
wrote letters; made journeys to
this vicar and that rector in the neigh
boyhood, who then needed, or soon
would need, curate, with the same
result in all cases. would not do; /
was not just the kind of man they
wanted; they were not sure that my
opinions were quite as they would wish
the opinions of their curate to be. 1t
became plain to me that / was to be
"boycotted:" the word had been passed
round, apparently-and by whom, if
not by Steinhardt2
Again and again tried, though with
little hope now, to find curacy even
in the neighboring large town; but
nothing came of my efforts except dis
appointment, and weariness, and dis
gust. My time was up in Timperley,
but l still retained my lodgings there
(they were cheap and comfortably ;
| held them like an outwork advanced
against the enemy's position. The
situation was, indeed, becoming like a
duel between Steinhardt and me, in
which, for the time, he certainly had
the best OF it.
My anxiety was not lessened by the
fact that in the three weeks which had
passed / had not heard word from
| Louise, and did not know what had
happened to her, or even where she
was. l finally went to the girl whom l
had seen Frank with, and from her /
found out that he had written from an
address (Which she gave mel in Doug
las in the Isle of Man. At the end OF
another week, not having received any
reply to note had written to Louise,
! confess l was tempted with weak
thoughts Of giving the whole matter
up, of surrenuering my position to
Steinhardt, and going away. l was
earning no money, and my quarters
stipend of % pounds 10 shillings was
rapidly disappearing. What could I
do, when it was all gone, but surren-
der? am not ashamed to confess
that, oftener than once, was betrayed
into an unmanly prostration of disap-
pointment--of despair, l may even say
and grief. But remember that was
desperately in love Il suppose clergy
man may be as desperately in love as
another MANI with young lady, who
might be dead, or dying, or ma ried,
for aught ] knew; that | was sojourn-
ing, SO to say, in strange land, whose
chief was bitterly hostile to me; that
the affair upon which | had staked my
success in love had not advanced an
inch during those long and lonely
weeks.
do verify believe that, in spite OF
the conviction which usually sustained
me Of the final revelation OF the truth
lin spite, too, of the obstinacy of my
nature, and the high reward Of success
which l had hoped to gain, l would,
indeed, have soon beat retreat, if it
had not been for visit had from my
old friend Birley, and the results that
Immediately followed upon that.
One evening heard loud, CHEEKY
voice there was no mistaking ask my
landlady, "Is tn parson at whoam,
Betty'--a question which answered
myself by calling, Come upstairs"
"Well," said he, you haven't come
to see me since I've come back" Che
had been i'll, and absent from home for
some weeks) $50 l ha' looked you up"
said l was very pleased indeed to
see him Che looked much older and
greyer than when had seen him last,
poor old gentleman),
"Now I've come" he continued, "to
ha' bit of serious talk with you, my
friend. You know wish you we'll
lad, and that I'd do all for you that
broken old chap can do; but there's no
sense, tina knows. and no policy in
sticking here VII nought to do-not
even courting. You love lass, and, of
course, naturally, hang about her; but,
deuce take it, lad, what do you expect
to get by hanging about the place when
she's miles and miles away2 Is it that
the ground whereon her gentle feet
have trod-eh? Come now, lad, let's
talk the thing out; we can't ha' the
folk about here that used to think SO
much Of you getting to look at you as
sort O. harmless luney."
"There is at least one person in the
village" said I, somewhat nettled,
"that does not believe me harmless,
whether he thinks me a lunatic or
not"
"Well," said he, "you munna be
offended at my saying that"
"No, certainly" said 1. "If there
is one man who could never offend me,
it is you, Mr.. Birley. But, when l
think of it, am not surprised that
people should begin to look upon me as
maniac, since nobody but myself
knows altogether what | keep staying
here for"
"Ah, we'll, of course" said he, look
ing mystifed, "but talking on at a
venture, according to his wont, "you
know your own affairs best-but you
think nobody else knows this alto
gether. Well, l daresay-"
81 daresay," said 1, interrupting
him, "I am a monomaniac." The inn
pulse siezed me TO take him into my
confidence; l felt it would relieve and
cheer me TO talk to him about the mat
ters that occupied my thought so much;
he must know them sooner or later,
and, by knowing them at that iuncture
be might give me useful hint. "Per-
L.. ~ Ia g., ,,-,ll 4l,s,,I- 49,, -