Ethelred Preston

Front matter

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, j v ’ V

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Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. A Letter from Ethelred's Mamma, . . 9

II. In which Things Begin to go Badly with

Chapter I. A Letter From Ethelred's Mamma

^ RATED at his desk, on a bright Wednesday morning towards the end of January, Father Edmunds, the reverend president of Henryton College, was gazing with a look of weariness upon the enormous mass of papers, pamphlets, and letters piled up before him. The gaze and the weariness lasted but a moment; then he fixed his eye-glasses firmly upon his nose, and set to work at distributing. While slipping the letters from his hand to a table at his side he scanned their superscriptions, dropping some to the right and a great many to his left. The larger pile thus formed was made up of letters addressed to the students; the smaller, of those addressed to himself and his community. From the letters Father Edmunds went to the pamphxIO

ETHELRED PRESTON.

lets, magazines, and newspapers; and here the waste-basket came into service. With a dexterity born of long experience, the president could ascertain, in most cases at a glance, and without opening their wrappers, the general character of the enclosed missives. Before he had done with examining these, the waste-basket had received a very generous moiety of current literature. The morning’s mail thus sorted. Father Edmunds touched his bell, in answer to which a young gentleman, his private secretary, entered the room.

For the vice-president,” said Father Edmunds, pointing to the mail of the students.

The secretary bowed, took the mail in his hands, and withdrew.

Having thus narrowed his field of labor, Father Edmunds addressed himself to a more careful examination. Again taking up the letters, he selected his own. Opening these, he skimmed rapidly over the first five, pigeonholing three and dropping two into the waste-basket. But the sixth letter gave him pause.

It was enclosed in a dainty, scented, square envelope, and was a very lengthy production. Setting aside the evidence of the perfumery, the communication was evidently the work of a

ETH BLEED PRESTON,

II woman : it was written down and across the page in fat sprawling letters, where m ' and w'?, and and v were utterly indistinguishable. Father Edmunds sighed; he had struggled through such letters before. Nothing could Ipe skipped, nothing taken for granted. Not infrequently the most important part of such missives was to be found where crossings were thickest. He began, then, the reading with mild resignation. Suddenly an expression of awakening interest came upon his features: as he reached the third page a smile began to flicker; it burst into a flame at the fourth, and blazed on merrily to the end, when he exclaimed :

“ Little Lord Fauntleroy the second!

He laughed quietly, and added:

“ I fancy the small boys of Henry ton College are going to be awakened from their mid-winter dulness. I must see the vice-president at once.”

” Father Howard,” he exclaimed, as he entered the vice-president’s room a moment later, “ have you room in the junior division for a Little Lord Fauntleroy ? ”

‘‘ I have, certainly; but I’m not so sure about the boys. They may try, in their innocent but

ETHELRED PRESTON.

abrupt way, to find out whether he is really and truly real.”

Well, it would appear that he is real enough: just read this letter.”

Father Howard took the scented envelope, drew out the enclosure; and this is what he read :

Reverend Edmund C. Edmunds.

Reverend Dear Sir : It is after reflection and thought and many tears that I address myself to your kindness. I now find myself, dear reverend sir, forced to face a trial, which, alas, but one week ago I could not so much as have fancied. My darling little boy and I must part. Ah, dear Father, if you but knew what that meant. No one but a mother can appreciate the grief which fills my heart. The dear child is the picture of his father. He is lovely and innocent, and has never been away from my side — not even for one day. Whatever he knows — and he has gone quite far in spelling and botany, including the language of flowers — I have taught him myself, and in my teachings I have addressed myself to the heart rather than to the . head. He is not at all like other boys, of whom it may be said that they are uniformly rude, but has all the refinements of a young lady. H e is docile, amiable, cheerful, happy as the day is long — the sweetest child imaginable. All

ETHELRED PRESTON.

his little ways are lovely. He is generous to a fault, in which he resembles his father, and is as sensitive as I was in the days of my youth, and conscientious to a degree approaching scrupulosity. And yet I am not, after the fashion of most mothers, blind to his faults. My little Ethelred is just the least trifle impetuous and inconsiderate. By those who do not understand him, he might even be called thoughtless. Nevertheless, he is so open to reason! A little talk, if kindly and considerately given and accompanied with a little coaxing, will never fail to bring him to his senses. He has never been subjected to corporal punishment — the dear child is high-strung, and so nervous, and would be injured for life by such barbarous treatment. Under no circumstance must the child Be touched — this point I insist upon.

Ethelred is a delicate child. Just after teething he contracted a severe illness. [Here the fond mother goes into a detailed account of all Master Ethelred’s various ailments and maladies, mentioning incidentally, but at some length, several diseases which, by an especial providence, he had just narrowly escaped. As these details are of little interest to the public at large, and do not bear directly upon the story, I omit them.]

Now, dear reverend sir, in view of what I have told you, you must see how necessary it is that the greatest care be taken of Ethelred’s health. He should get a glass of milk at least four times a day — twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon.

The boy should by all means bring a cow along,” muttered the vice-president.

If possible, he should have sweet bread every morning at breakfast, a glass of port wine at dinner, and dry toast at supper.

^‘He should bring his cook along too,” interjected the president.

Ethelred is not a Catholic. I am an Episcopalian in theory, and my dear boy will probably join the same church. I am not a bigoted woman, and believe that there are good Catholics, many of whom will doubtless go to heaven. My boy is naturally very religious, and I send him, to your school because I understand that the moral training there is excellent. Miss Martin, whose nephew Earl Meriwether attends your College, gives me an excellent account of it. I do not know Earl personally, though his lamented mother and I were most intimate friends at school, and I feel that Earl, whose reputation stands very high, will be a suitable companion for my boy — as far as any boy can be a suitable companion for one who has had such home training as my Ethelred has enjoyed. If there are any good Catholic boys attending your College, supposing, of course, that their manners make some such approach towards refinement as we have reason to expect of boys of the better class, I see no objection to my boy’s associating with them under dtie mspection.

I am so agitated, dear reverend sir, that I find it almost impossible to put my thoughts on paper with any appearance of order. I should ere this have explained to you my reason for being obliged to separate myself from my sweet child. It is inevitable. Yesterday I received a telegram from London, England, stating that my husband has there been attacked by hemorrhages, and that his position is precarious.

Of course I must start by the next steamer. Gladly would I bring my little Ethelred along, but the poor child is so sensitive to seasickness that it would be literally flying in the face of providence to imperil his precious health — mayhap his life — by taking him along. The parting is difficult, but it must be made. Again and again I beg you to bestow every attention upon my darling, and a mother s prayer and a mother s blessing will accompany you through life.

Thanking you in advance for your kindness, and asking you to overlook the inaccuracies and blunders of a well-nigh distracted mother, I am, dear reverend sir,

Yours most earnestly and beseechingly,

Eleanor Preston.

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ETHELRED PRESTON.

P.S. — Enclosed you will find a check or a draught or a bank note (I am not quite sure of the correct term) for four hundred dollars for Ethelred*s expenses. On reaching London I shall forward more. My child will reach you on Thursday morning. I have been holding him back in hopes of getting some trusted friend to accompany him on his trip. I would go myself, but could hardly do so without missing the first steamer. Be a father, dear reverend sir, to my precious darling. E. P.

“ Such a boy,” the president remarked,

hardly requires testimonials as to his character.”

“ Not if he’s anything at all like what his mother makes him out to be,” answered Father Howard. “ Let us hope that he really is a swan in the eyes of others than his fond parent. Meantime it would be good to write for references. If you have no objection, I shall attend to that part of the matter myself.”

And there was no objection.

On the next morning, at about the same hour, the college porter brought Father Edmunds a card. He read with a smile —

Master Ethelred PRESTo^•,

Albany Villa, Brighton.

[At Home Tuesdays.]

ETHEL RED PRESTON.

on my road to meet our Little Lord Fauntleroy, ” said Father Edmunds as he encountered the vice-president in the hall.

Father Edmunds was a man whom long experience as a disciplinarian and as a superior had schooled in the control of his emotions. But as he entered the parlor and glanced at the new pupil he started back, while a slight exclamation forced itself from his lips. And he had reason for being astonished.

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Chapter II. In Which Things Begin To Go Badly With Earl Meriwether

w HILE Father Edmunds was mastering his astonishment in the parlor, matters were not proceeding with their wonted smoothness in the class of First Academic. There was a frown upon the brow of the professor, Mr. Gade. He was explaining the sequence of tenses (for the fortieth or fiftieth time, be it said), and eying, as he spoke, a young gentleman in one of the corner seats. If he counted upon catching the pupil’s eye he must have been disappointed. The boy was scribbling very industriously, and, according to all seeming, utterly oblivious of everything about him, save the sheet of paper across which his pencil was travelling.

The professor finally paused ; his face turned a shade paler, and the ominous frown deepened upon his forehead. Every one in the class with the exception of the scribbler showed manifest signs of uneasiness.

ETHELRED PRESTON.

This thing has gone too far! ” said Mr. Gade, changing his tone of voice. He spoke low because he was indignant. At the words, Earl Meriwether, the scribbler, looked up inquiringly.

Yes, Meriwether, I mean you. For five minutes I have been explaining the sequence of tenses, principally for your benefit. The theme you handed in this morning shows me that if you ever knew anything about the construction of a Latin sentence, you have almost utterly forgotten it. And now, while I explain, you must devote yourself to other work. I have been very much disappointed in you of late. Your conduct has pained and annoyed me. Please leave the room.”

Mr. Gade seldom spoke in reproof to his pupils; but when he did so speak, his admonitions carried weight. The boys valued his kind words, and, loving him, dreaded his displeasure above all punishment. There had fallen a strained silence upon the room as the professor spoke, and one could see by the expressions on the students’ faces that the scene was painful and unusual. Meriwether himself had first given a start when his name was called out, and as Mr. Gade had gone on, a look of pained sur-

ETHELRED PRESTON.

prise had come upon his features. At the command to leave the room he turned very red, compressed his lips, and putting his hands into his pockets, strode out with something of a swagger. This air of defiance in the manner of his exit confirmed Mr. Gade in the impression that the rebuke was well merited.

Then the class-work proceeded as usual, and yet with a difference. The boys were serious and subdued in manner, and the little undercurrent of pleasantry, which often exists in a class along with perfect order and attention, and which certain professors of sunny temperament find it to their account to foster, was congealed for that day.

“ It was like the funeral without the carriage ride,” said Roger Haines to Edward Devereux as they came out together into the playground at recess.

“ So it was,” assented Devereux. A fellow doesn’t know how much fun he’s having in our class till something goes wrong; and then we know it by not having it. But what’s coming over Earl Meriwether anyhow these last few weeks ? He used to be a great friend of Mr. Gade’s, and never handed in a single paper that wasn’t among the very best. Yesterday when

ETHELRED PRESTON.

Mr. Gade passed a lot of us fellows in the yard we all took off our hats to him except Earl. And the worst of it was that Earl walked right past Mr. Gade, and took no notice at all of his nod and smile. Our teacher flushed, and we could see that he was annoyed. Something has gone wrong with Earl. He doesn’t seem to be the same boy at all that he used to be. He never was very lively; but now he’s positively gloomy. He’s the best friend I ever had, and it makes me blue to see him going down in this way. I am really puzzled about the whole thing. He’s the most popular boy in the school still, but he’s going to lose his popularity if he doesn’t take care.”

“ I thought there would be a row soon,” said Roger. Earl has got to be very negligent in his studies, and from being the leader he is now getting down to the foot. I don’t think he has given a good recitation for the last two or three weeks, and I’ve been expecting Mr. Gade to call him down this long time.”

I feel very bad about the whole affair,” continued Devereux. “ Earl and I have been chums, and besides liking him, I respect him more than any boy I ever met. Of late he hasn’t been with me. He’s always in the read-

ETHELRED PRESTON.

ing-room, and doesn’t do anything but read and take notes. I have felt like having a good talk with him a dozen times, but the chance has never offered itself, and I have been too careless to put myself to a little trouble.”

“ You ought to talk to Earl, Ed. If you don’t. I’ll do it myself, though I don’t know him near as well as you do,”

“ All right. I’ll do it, though I’m afraid that he will hardly be in any humor just now for anything I have to say.”

There he is over near the playroom; catch him, and strike while the iron is hot.”

“ I say, Earl,” said Devereux a moment later, as he placed his hand on Earl’s shoulder and fell into step with him on the walk running beside the playroom, “ what’s the trouble between you and Mr. Gade? You used to get along so well with him, and now it’s all at sixes and sevens between you.”

Ed paused for an answer; but none came. He looked up presently into Earl’s face, and then he understood. Earl’s face was quivering with emotion, and there was a suspicious moisture in his eyes.

“ Oh, I say, Earl, don’t take it so hard,” pleaded soft-hearted Ed, ” We all get a scolding now and then, you know, arid I suppose that most of us deserve it every time.”

Do you think I deserved that scolding?” asked Earl.

Since you ask it,” returned Ed, I must say I do. All the fellows think the same.”

Again Earl’s features were convulsed, he struggled for a moment, and then, unable longer to restrain himself, he broke away from his astonished and dismayed companion and, seeking a retired spot, gave full vent to his emotion. This was Earl’s third year at College, and Ed Devereux was the first and only boy who had ever seen him shed a tear.

The few minutes of the present recess promised to be of importance in the shaping of Earl’s life. Matters had seemingly come to a head. Earl had been a student at Henryton College for two years and a half. During this period he had enjoyed the popularity of the boys and the respect of the faculty. He was a lad of a somewhat serious turn of mind, remarkably earnest in everything, and very noticeable for his piety. He was a Lutheran, and practised his religion in a manner that surprised and edified his fellow students. Indeed his simple and frank piety had often put to shame some of the more negli-

ETHELRED PRESTON.

gent Catholic boys. His conduct in the chapel and at prayers was such that many of his companions had been as long as a year with him before learning that he was not of their religion.

He won the name of being a deeply religious lad early in his first year at Henryton. It happened during the celebration of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, at which, according to the custom of Henryton College, all the students assisted. The boy next him was behaving rather lightly, and several times tried to secure Earl’s attention. Earl with his eyes fastened upon his own book of devotion refused to recognize his companion’s advances. After Mass, however, he awaited the irreverent youngster outside.

‘‘ Ed Devereux, I’m going to ask you an honest question, and I want an honest answer. Will you give it ? ”

“ Why of course,” returned Ed.

Do you really believe that Christ is present in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar ? ”

‘Mf I were able. I’d lick the man who said I didn’t,” returned tiny Ed, with flashing eyes and considerable vehemence.

“ Well, then, I can’t for the life of me. understand how you can carry on in the chapel the way you do, if you really believe. I’m not a

Catholic myself, and I certainly never will be one ; but I try to show reverence in chapel out of respect for the opinions of the Catholic boys around me. I don’t understand your position, Ed.”

When Ed learned then and there for the first time that the boy who sat beside him at services was not a Catholic, he started with dismay and surprise, and the rebuke humbled him as he never had been humbled before. His face flushed scarlet. He looked in dumb pitiful distress at Earl for a moment, and then returned to the chapel. From that hour dated Ed Devereux’s profound reverence for the Real Presence; from that hour dated his love and respect for Earl Meriwether, which had gone on increasing month by month.

He did not answer Earl’s question, and indeed never referred to that conversation but once. Then he said:

“ Earl, when you spoke to me about my behavior in the chapel, you said among other things that you never intended to become a Catholic. Did you really mean that ?”

Indeed I did,” answered Earl.

Well, I hope that my disgraceful conduct had nothing to do with your intention. It’s been bothering me ever since.”

ETHELRED PRESTON.

That had nothing whatever to do with my resolve,” said Earl.

“ Well, perhaps my conduct along with the conduct of some of the other fellows may have been the cause. Now you know, Earl, we all of us Catholic boys here believe all right; but we are young and giddy, I suppose, and don’t think. Some of us trifle at times in the chapel, without thinking of what we are doing. Sometimes a boy actually doesn’t know that he is fooling. There’s a boy here now who seems to be most irreverent in the chapel, and yet I know that he prays hard, and all the fellows know that he wouldn’t do anything wrong for the world. Yet, if you watch him at services, you would hardly think him a Catholic. You

♦ 9

see —

” Hold on,” cried Earl, ” 3^ou needn’t explain the way some of you fellows carry on: I wouldn’t understand any explanation anyhow. It wasn’t on that account either that I made my resolve. The fact is, I made a promise that I would be true to my own religion when I was a little boy of seven, nearly eight ^^ears ago.”

“ You did? ”

Yes: would you like to hear how it happened ? ”

ETHELRED PRESTON.

‘‘ Indeed I would.”

It’s a long story, Ed, and you’re the only person I’ve ever offered to tell it to.”

Devereux’s face flushed with genuine pleasure at these words. He had come to look up to this Lutheran boy with an admiration which was made up of reverence and love. Such a friendship is rarely inspired. It supposes on the part of him who is thus admired a strength of character, a sincerity, and a manliness that are seldom found in one person.

‘‘ Nothing would please me better than to hear it,” said Ed.

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It’s a long story, as I said, and not particularly interesting in itself. I wouldn’t think even of telling it to you, only I know and value the interest you take in me, and feel sure that you will be interested.”

And with this somewhat awkward introduction Earl told his story.

Now as Earl’s early life has much to do with what is to come, I shall tell the reader Meriwether’s history as he related it to Ed, with certain details such as the honest boy’s modesty forbade him divulge even to his bosom friend.

Chapter III The Story Of Earl

j^ARL MERIWETHER was the son of a Catholic father ajid a Protestant mother: at least that was what the world said. As a matter of fact, his father was hardly a Catholic, even in the loosest and most strained sense of the word. Mr. Meriwether had been baptized in a Catholic church; which was the beginning of his Catholicity — and the end. Trained in a sectarian school, he had contented himself with asserting that he was a Catholic because his parents were of that faith. In practice he was of no religion. Three years after leaving school he married an accomplished and devout young lady, and Earl was their only child. It was shortly after Earl’s birth that Mr. Meriwether fell into habits of dissipation. Between him and his passions there stood no bar of restraint in the shape of religion. To Earl’s mother Mr. Meriwether was the embodiment of Catholic teaching and practice. She was shocked by his ethelrrd ere s ton.

evil courses, and attributed them to the religion which he had never attempted to practise. The gentle lady was horrified at the wild excesses of her husband. By their fruits you shall know them, she argued ; and, in consequence, the Catholic Church became to her a name of horror and reproach.

Brooding day after day over the wreckage of a life to which, for better or for worse, she had irrevocably bound her own, she fell into a decline. The end came very soon. Little Earl was with her through all these dark days, and from the first faint dawn of reason gave an attentive ear to his mother’s pious teachings and counsels. Upon the child her tender devotion and deep religious spirit created a lasting impression, and his young heart was attuned from the first to exalted standards of goodness, such as only a tender and pious mother can awaken. Insensibly, too, the boy caught something of the austere gravity of his mother. He had little of what is called light-heartedness. There was a seriousness about him which accompanied him even in his sports and amusements. He seldom laughed.

Then there came a day when he was summoned to the bedside of his mother for the last time. She held him long to her bosom, and, after the first passionate, almost incoherent greeting of love, she recovered herself, and, in terms that had been carefully weighed and studied, laid upon him her last injunctions in regard to his spiritual welfare.

And now, my child,” she said finally, “ I ask you to give me your solemn word that you will be true to your religion — true till we meet again in a brighter world.”

With his arms about his mother’s neck the boy sobbed out the words of promise; and they came from his heart.

No more was said. There was a last, tender embrace, and then he was taken from the room. When he was brought back some hours later, the tender hand that had pressed his so recently lay still upon the coverlid, and the mild, sweet eyes that had beamed love were closed forever, while upon the gentle features lay the peace of God.

In accordance with his mother’s desire, Earl was placed in the care of her younger sister. His father, broken by excesses, shortly followed her to the grave. Strangely enough, the younger sister — within the year of Mrs. Meriwether’s death — became a convert to the Catholic faith. However, she made no endeavors to interfere with Earl’s religion, but encouraged him in the pious practices which his mother had taught him.

At the age of twelve Earl was sent to Henryton College, and from his entrance, as has been already said, he proved himself to be a thoroughly good boy. A leader in the class, a leader in the yard, up to the time of the opening of the present story, Earl’s record was untarnished. Then his troubles had begun. It was evident to every one that he was no longer the close and conscientious student that he once had been. In class his attention flagged ; upon the campus he no longer took a leading part in the sports and games; in a word, a decided and most disappointing change had come to pass. Mr. Gade was much concerned. To him his class was everything; no wonder, then, that the conduct of Earl had wounded him deeply. He had intended calling the boy to account privately, and was only awaiting a favorable opportunity, when Earl’s inattention in class precipitated matters. The scolding thus given publicly had been received in such a way that Mr. Gade was deeply mortified. His hold upon Earl, thought the professor, was lost forever. Earl

3 ^ had gone beyond the reach of his influence. The boy, he reasoned, had deliberately thrown off the restraints of discipline, and chosen a downward path. Earl, to all seeming, had made no attempt for the past three weeks to conceal his growing dislike of studies. The frankness which had characterized him in his intercourse with his teacher had been replaced by a coldness and reserve which could be interpreted in only one light.

Mr. Gade, although of a highly nervous disposition, was a man of more than ordinary prudence and tact. In dealing with his young charges he rarely made mistakes of judgment, and in the present case, accordingly, he had no suspicion that he might possibly be wrong. And yet he was in the wrong. Without fault on his part, he had misunderstood Earl throughout.

A few weeks before the opening of this story, the college students had made, as was their yearly custom, a retreat of three days. The exercises were given by a widely known missionary priest, a man who could thrill, by his eloquence in the pulpit, even those familiar friends who in the common intercourse of life recognized in him as his salient traits a marvellous simplicity and lowliness. Earl, partly through a craving for the light and consolation of religion, partly through the desire of hearing a man famed for his burning eloquence, attended the various instructions; and from the first words that fell from the good father’s lips, was rapt and fascinated. Earl, at that period, had reached the stage of physical development when the human passions are wont to awake to a dangerous activity, and arise in all their strength. Thus far the sweet and untainted stream of his innocent life had run on its way smooth and uncheckered. But now, and with sudden transition, the running was through devious and perilous ways. Earl was frightened ; he dreaded sin as few boys dread it ; and yet, do what he might, he saw daily, sometimes hourly, its face, not foul and hideous as he knew it to be in reality, but tricked out with the specious beauties and masked under the enticing allurements which it knows so well how to assume. Sometimes in the solemn watches of the night, sometimes in the hours devoted to study, now in the intervals between play and class, now in the class-room itself, that face of sin with its poisonous beauty hovered about him and before him, and despite his resistance still hovered, still came nearer and nearer.