True to his Colours | Page 3

Theodore P. Wilson
the sceptic's household.
Things were no better in the sitting-room: there was plenty of finery, but no real comfort--scarcely a single article of furniture was entire; while a huge chimney-glass, surmounted by a gilded eagle, being too tall for its position, had been made to fit into its place by the sacrifice of the eagle's head and body, the legs and claws alone being visible against the ceiling. The glass itself was starred at one corner, and the frame covered with scars where the gilding had fallen off. There were coloured prints on the walls, and a large photograph of the members of the "Free-thought Club;" the different individuals of the group being taken in various attitudes, all indicative of a more than average amount of self-esteem. There were book-shelves also, containing volumes amusing, scientific, and sceptical, but no place was found for the Book of books; it was not admitted into that cheerless household.
It was a December evening; a dull fire burned within the dingy bars of William Foster's parlour grate. William himself was at his club, but his wife and baby were at home: that poor mother, who knew nothing of a heavenly Father to whose loving wisdom she could intrust her child; the baby, a poor little sinful yet immortal being, to be brought up without one whisper from a mother's tongue of a Saviour's love.
Kate Evans (such was Mrs Foster's maiden name) had had the best bringing up the neighbourhood could afford; at least, such was the view of her relatives and friends.
Her parents were plain working-people, who had been obliged to scramble up into manhood and womanhood with the scantiest amount possible of book-learning. When married they could neither of them write their name in the register; and a verse or two of the New Testament laboriously spelt out was their farthest accomplishment in the way of reading.
Kate was their only child, and they wisely determined that things should be different with her. The girl was intelligent, and soon snapped up what many other children of her own age were a long time in acquiring. She was bright and attractive-looking, with keen eyes and dark flowing hair, and won the affection of her teachers and companions by her open- heartedness and generosity of disposition.
Naturally enough, the master and mistress of the large school which she attended were proud of her as being one of their best scholars, and were determined to make the most of her abilities for their own sake as much as hers. And Kate herself and her parents were nothing loath. So books were her constant companions and occupation in all her waking hours. The needle was very seldom in her fingers at the school, and the house- broom and the scrubbing-brush still less often at home.
The poor mother sighed a weary sigh sometimes when, worn out with toiling, she looked towards her child, who was deep in some scientific book by the fireside; and now and then she just hinted to her husband that she could not quite see the use of so much book-learning for a girl in their daughter's position; but she was soon silenced by the remark that "Our Kate had a head-piece such as didn't fall to the lot of many, and it were a sin and a shame not to give her all the knowledge possible while she were young and able to get it."
So the head was cultivated, and the hands that should have been busy were neglected; and thus it was that, at the age of sixteen, Kate Evans could not sweep a room decently, nor darn a stocking, nor mend her own clothes, nor make nor bake a loaf of bread creditably. But then, was she not the very rejoicing of her master and mistress's hearts, and the head girl of the school? And did not the government inspector always give her a specially pleasant smile and word or two of approbation at the annual examination?
Poor Kate! It was a marvel that she was not more spoiled by all this; but she was naturally modest and unpresuming, and would have made a fine and valuable character had she been brought up to shine, and not merely to glitter. As it was, she had learned to read and write well, and to calculate sums which were of little practical use to her. Indeed, her head was not unlike the lumber-room of some good lady who has indulged a mania for accumulating purchases simply because of their cheapness, without consideration of their usefulness, whether present or future; so that while she could give you the names and positions and approximate distances of all the principal stars without mistake or hesitation, she would have been utterly at a loss if set to make a little arrow-root or
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