The Birmingham age-herald., 1909-01-18
THE GREAT REFUSAL
By DOROTHY cANFlELp.
(copvright.l

HNHE younger Margaret surveyed the
 bulky letter from her grandmother
 4 with doubtful eyes, and half re- solved not 10 read it. She knew Cousin Margaret so well that she could imagine what the correct, aauiline, whitepompa- doured clubwoman would have to say on the subject of Timothy. What could an elderly, professional philanthropist know about girls and their troubles? She had resented the questioning which Cousin Margaret had inflicted upon her about this unhappy business of Timothy, and his queerness, and she felt instinctively that she would resent the contents of the letter she held. But the older woman had asked her, with great seriousness, to read it carefully some time when she was quite alone and with resigned sigh she broke the seal.
 My Dear Godchild: You would probably be much surprised at the thought I have given you since our last conversation about Timothy Hale and his relations to you. I had known in general way that you were interested in each other but modern girls are such puzzles to me, with their matter-of-fact ways, that l was not sure you really cared for him. And know ing that he had not spoken to you def1- nitely before your Uncle Harris death and bequest, was not sure that he loved you, until you told me of the incident on the balcony. It is now evident to me that one or the other of you, or both, are losing che opportunity of your lives for free and generous action; you, hindered by your foolish pride, he, by the fancied barrier of your new wealth. To MT. Hale I have nothing to say, since know him so slightly, but to you l am impelled to utter the most vigorous pro- test and warning. Your vehement state ment that you will never make step toward your lover lest he think you are bold. is too vain to receive a moments serious attention.
 This is a much graver matter than in your youth and inexperience you can perceive. You are making the great re- fusal' I don't suppose you know what that means Girls nowadays are so busy studying angleworms and dissecting frogs that they don't know their Dante. It means the great refusal and Dante ap- piled 1t to certain Pope who, at cru cial moment, lost his courage, refused his high office and returned to the safe and ignoble life of cabbage. Ever since the time that Dante characterized his action he has been scorned by all Europe. Any one who lacks a generous spirit and courage dI d luiniiB punt III makes the great refusal. I know all about it-I speak from experience. You are surprised, possibly, to think that ever did any thing but attend commit tees but there is a memory Tn my Ire which I never have shared with any one. It has come up with singular vividness in my anxiety. about you, and l have re- solved to break my long reserve and make you, if possible, live through my own experience. I've set 1t all down here rather than to try and tell you, for I've wished to make it clear and to leave out no detail, so that you may for a moment feel with me. Try, Margaret, dear, to forget me as a white-haired old woman and think of me as girl about your age, for 1t happened more than 40 years ago, when I was young lady of 19 or 20' like yourself, that I made the great refusal
 "I was going from Paris to London with my maid and a sister from the Eng fish convent where I'd been educated. and it was at Dieppe that 1t occurred. In those days Dieppe was a miserable lit tie fishing village far fram the wharf and big warehouses, where the English channel boats came in, so that we had tc hire a cab to drive us the two or three mile over the deserted countryside. Wher we arrived at the wharf we found only the long, stone platform with few blackened timbers lying at one side The cabman explained that a recent fire had destroyed all the warehouses. and pointed to a tiny, kennel-like shed as the tenn porary office. No one was in it-indeed, there was no one in sight at all but a solitary young Frenchman, who walked up and down looking impatiently out to sea as if he expected the boat to arrive at any moment. The cabman, our only source of information, told us the boat was due at about o'clock, and would leave at midnight for England. As 1t was then 530, there seemed no great hardship in waiting even in so exposed a place, for 1t was deliciously warm and still summer afternoon, with the sun, still quite high above the horizon, pouring long beams upon the tranquil country side. So the obliging driver settled us and our bags and our wraps, touched his hat and, whistling a gay little tune rattled off down the dusty, white road.
 "As the sound of his wheels died away in the distance profound silence settled about us. With him seemed to go all the trivial and usual noises of the world For the moment we seemed cut off and iso- lated in this glowing and tranquil place, with the featureless calm of the plain on one side of us and the quiet of the sea on the other.
 '"The young Frenchman had stopped his sentinel-lil<e pacings and stood quite still looking down at the water, whose soft tapping was the only sound to be heard. Plump Sister Ruth and Polie were propped in the midst of the baggage, Sis ter Ruth's tired eyes already dropping with the fatigue of the tiresome journey. I stood looking idly about at the long stretch of green, rolling down back of us; ot h ,f tba lac, aI scarcely sparkling in all that flood of sum- shine, so still 1t lay; at the quiet. deep blue sky and finally at the meditative profile of the young man outlined against the reflected glory of the water I sup pose he was not what would be called handsome, but even as I looked at him in the listless indifference of a fellow. trav- ller felt oddly drawn to him. It was not that I noticed his slender strong figure or the rich dark coloring that seemed to show southern origin. I was attracted by an indescribable air of purity and mo- biity which shone from his eyes, and observed that the hand with which he stroked the flowing black beard was at once fine and very strong. I had travelled a great deal for a girl in those days, and l recognized at once the best type of cul- tivated Frenchman., I wondered idly if this was his first trip to England, and how the English manners would affect hm-this was in mid-Victorian times, re- member.
 And then, as realizing that he was the subject of thought, he turned and looked at me. I was startled beyond words, for instead of the opaque and glassy regard of a stranger, I found myself facing the most real and personal revelation of an individ- uality. His eyes had the joyfuly ex- pectant look of one who turns in answer