New-York tribune., 1903-07-27
CHAPTER XVII.
DRIFTING.

A few people live their lives like a novel,
| knowing that every chapter has a bearing on
| the whole and that a continuous thread runs
| through all But most of us pass our days as II
we thought them a volume OF short STORIES
which have not necessarily any connection with
| each other This is fortunate. no doubt. II we
necessarily realized that the events of last week.
or last year, were to play part in to-morrow's s
| experience we should be in a state Of intolera-
BILE hesitation tinidity and depression. If Brad
ford for instance had been forced constantly
TO remember. every day and all day, that GER
tain difference between his own character and
his wife's had been made plain early in their
married life, and if in love with Amy as he
certainly was, he never could have got away
from the impression that she dstrusted him. he
would have done one of two things-hated her
hated himself. Either result would have
| seemed uncomfortable. at least distressing. AS
1t was the shadow memory fell across his path
quite frequently enough to annoy him Instead
of careering on comfortably. he was now and
then conscious with sort of passionate irrita-
tion OF slight errors in his statements of fact,
slight variations. under the influence Of some
outside suggestion, from his normal procedure.
The fact that he seldom talked well to his
friends as to a stranger; the fact that sneer
acted like drink of whiskey his nerves. and
the fact, above all, that twice under
such circumstances he had intercepted his wife's
glance and looked quickly away-these matters
troubled him occasionally. But for days and
weeks he forgot them altogether, and lived in
happy Inconsistencies Of them and walked on
air.
Among these times of doubt, he wondered
now and then, what 1t was the rector had said
Of him to Amy and once twice he asked her,
but Amy put the question by, and Bradford did
m he riIy at
least, despised himself for not liking to. 1t is
true, he never went so far as to admit to him
self that he was afraid Of Charges, and did not
even dream that he was afraid of his wife. The
fact that in his only struggle with the rector
If his suit for Amy's hand could be regarded as
such struggle-he had come off victorious dis
posed of the former idea, to his mind: and the
latter he would merely have said was absurd.
laughed, kissed his wife with a keener pleasure
and told her about it with a delightful conf
dence in her answering smile. Nevertheless. he
suggested that Charges should be invited to din
ner. Amy wrinkled her brows into a question,
but Bradford assured her that they could do
no less-the rector had undoubtedly married
them and anybody who had done him such a
service as that he wanted to reward. So Amy
acquiesced quietly without showing that the
acquiescence cost her anything, and stipulated
only that the dinner should include others be-
sides Charges. The minister relieved her by
pleading a previous engagement, in which she
took the liberty of disbelieving-the more when
he failed to call. His failure to call. half the
women of ST. Hlda's would have told her, was
nothing; he never called save when the spirit
moved and it was immovable by dinners but
Amy would have kept her own opinion STILL She
did not like Father Charges. she did not even
wish to like him, but she thought she under
stood him.
certain opposition to the rector showed itself
in some of his flock at this time. The fact that
he had conducted the negotiations which re-
suited in ending the streetcar strike was cher
ished against him in some quarters. There was
a general feeling that the men had got more
than was fair, and widespread satisfaction in
the resumption of uninterrupted traffic; but
what. argued Mr. Gaines the trustee. and
others. was to become of capital If outsiders
meddled with its concerns? The privilege of
conducting a mans business TO suit himself was
one which should not be denied lightly to any
body And moreover, that minister should
have stopped TO deal with practical affairs
also considered unwise. Mr. Gaines was
astounded as any knight of old might have been
if a herald. suddenly ceasing to blow his
trumpet and proclaim the greatness of his mas
ter the king, had rolled up his sleeves and taken
a hand in the battle. Clargess action in
congruOus; it was radical Mr. Gaines. and
those who agreed with him, began to hint that
possibly an older and steadier man should be
found for St Hildas: man who knew, without
dropping it, on which side his bread but
tered; a man. to use Mr.. Ciaines's phrase, who
could be trusted Bradford told Murdoch that
half of Gaines's insistence sprang from the fear
that Charges would ALLEVIATE his wife's affec-
tiOns; and Murdoch who had been trying hard
not TO sympathize with the attitude OF his CO.
trustees, roared with laughter, and clapped his
leg and openly arrayed himself on the side OF
the rector But indeed if he were expecting
gratitude for that he must have been disap-
pointed. Charges made no effort to conciliate
his enemies if they could be called such, nor TO
thank his friends; and far as could be
judged was quite as unaffected by one as by the
other
II was this opposition which Bradford alleged
to himself for when ne dropped into
Clarges's rooms one November evening. He had
been working late at the office and had tele-
phoned 10 Amy saying that he should not be
out till O; but after all he found himself in his
own neighborhood by S o'clock. As he would
have nut IL the whim seized him TO look up the
rector whom he had scarcely even seen for a
month: church going was not precisely one OF
Bradford's affectations. When he knocked a
voice cried. Come i'm and he entered 70 find
the rector with his feet on chair smoking a
cigar He rose however and shook hands cor
EQ-aG ord a