BETTY'S LAST WORDS
There is a certain stimulus in grief which lends unreal strength to endure, but Nature will be avenged in a physical and emotional reaction, all the more terrible that it is unexpected.Then the full weight of the sorrow presses upon the heart already exhausted, and the sense of loss becomes the more painful because it can be fairly estimated, and the empty place can be more truly measured because it is seen in its relation to the ordinary life.
So it was with Shock.The first sharp stab of grief was over, and now he carried with him the long ache of a wound that would not heal for many a day.His mother had filled a large part of his life.As far back into childhood as his memory could go, there she stood between him and the great world, his sure defence against all evil, his refuge in all sorrow; and as he grew into manhood she made for herself a larger and larger place in his thought and in his life.He well knew how she had toiled and denied herself comforts and endured hardships that he might gain that height of every Scottish mother's ambition for her son, a college education, and he gave her full reward in the love of his heart and the thoughtful devotion of his life.All his interests and occupations, his studies, his mission work in the Ward, his triumphs on the football field, all he shared with her, and until the last year no one had ever challenged her place of supremacy in his heart.His future was built about his mother.She was to share his work, her home was to be in his manse, she was to be the centre about which his life would swing; and since coming to the West he had built up in imagination a new life structure, in which his mother had her own ancient place.In this new and fascinating work of exploring, organising, and upbuilding he felt sure, too, of his mother's eager sympathy and her wise understanding.
It had been the happiest of all his fancies that his mother should preside over the new home, the opening of which had been attended with such pride and joy.She would be there to live with him every day, watching him go out and waiting for him to come in.
Now all that was gone.As his mind ran along its accustomed grooves every turn of thought smote him with a pang sharp and sudden.She was no longer a part of the plan.All had to be taken down, the parts readjusted, the structure rebuilt.He began to understand the Convener's words, "This is a hard country." It demanded a man's life in all the full, deep meaning of the word; his work, of course of body and brain, but his heart as well, and his heart's treasures.
In the midst of his depression and bewilderment Ike brought him a letter which had lain two weeks at the Fort, and whose date was now some four weeks old.It was from Brown and ran thus:
My Dear Old Chap:
I do not know how to begin this letter.The terribly sudden and awful calamity that has overtaken us has paralysed my mind, and Ican hardly think straight.One thing that stands out before me, wiping out almost every other thought, is that our dear Betty is no more.You cannot imagine it, I know, for though I saw her in her coffin, so sweet and lovely, but oh! so still, I cannot get myself to believe it.The circumstances concerning her death, too, were awfully sad, so sad that it simply goes beyond any words I have to describe them.I will try to be coherent; but, though I shall give you an account of what happened, I cannot begin to convey the impression upon my mind.Well, let me try.
You know Mrs.Fairbanks has been opposed all along to The Don's attentions to Betty, and has tried her best to block him.After you left, the opposition grew more determined.Why, for the life of me, I cannot say.She had apparently made up her mind that The Don must quit.She worked every kind of scheme, but it was no good.That plucky little girl, in her own bright, jolly way, without coming to an open break, would not give back an inch, and The Don kept coming to the house just because Betty insisted.He would have quit long before, poor chap.You know how proud he is.
Well, Mrs.Fairbanks set to work to gain her purpose.She somehow got wind of the kind of life The Don lived in this city years ago.
She set enquiries on foot and got hold of the facts pretty well.You know all about it, so I need not tell you.Poor chap, he had his black spots, sure enough.She furthermore got Lloyd somehow to corroborate her facts.Just how much he looked up for her I don't know, but I tell you I have quit Lloyd.He is a blanked cad.I know I should not write this, and you will hate to read it, but it is the truth.His conduct during the whole business has been damnable!
damnable! damnable! I gnash my teeth as I write.
When she had everything ready she sprung her mine.It was in her own house one evening, when Lloyd, The Don, and I were there, and the Fairbanks' new minister, Hooper, a young Trinity man, who has been a close friend of The Don's, I don't know how long, but some years at least.A fine fellow.God bless him, say I, again and again.
The Don and Betty had been going it pretty strong that evening, rather unnecessarily so, I think; and Mrs.Fairbanks got more and more worked up, until she seemed to lose her head.As The Don was saying good night she spoke up and said in that haughty way of hers, "Mr.Balfour, the time has come when we must say good-bye, and Imust ask you to discontinue your visits to this house, and your intimacy with my daughter."Well, we all sat up, I can tell you.The Don went white, and red, and white again.Betty walked over and stood by his side, her eyes all blazing.
"Mamma," she cried, "what are you saying against the man I love! Do you mean to--""Betty," said her mother in her haughtiest and coldest and calmest voice, "before you go any further, listen to me.I do not choose that my daughter, pure and unsullied, should give herself to a roue and a libertine."The Don took a step toward her and said: "Mrs.Fairbanks, someone has misled you.What you say is false, absolutely and utterly false." Betty glanced proudly up into his face.
