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AFTERWARDS

AND OTHER STORIES


By Ian Maclaren


1898



TO

LADY GRAINGER-STEWART

IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE DAYS OF LONG AGO AND THE FRIENDS WHO ARE FAR AWAY






CONTENTS

AFTERWARDS

THE MINISTER OF ST. BEDE'S

AN IMPOSSIBLE MAN

RIGHTEOUS OVER MUCH

A PROBATIONER

A GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL

THE RIGHT HAND OF SAMUEL DODSON

SAVED BY FAITH

THE LAST SACRIFICE

AN EVANGELIST

THE COLLECTOR'S INCONSISTENCY

FATHER JINKS

THE PASSING OF DOMSIE

DR. DAVIDSON'S LAST CHRISTMAS








AFTERWARDS

I

He received the telegram in a garden where he was gazing on a vision ofblue, set in the fronds of a palm, and listening to the song of thefishers, as it floated across the bay.

“You look so utterly satisfied,” said his hostess, in the high, clearvoice of Englishwomen, “that, I know you are tasting the luxury of acontrast. The Riviera is charming in December; imagine London, and Cannes,is Paradise.”

As he smiled assent in the grateful laziness of a hard-worked man, hismind was stung with the remembrance of a young wife swathed in the drearyfog, who, above all things, loved the open air and the shining of the sun.

Her plea was that Bertie would weary alone, and that she hated travelling,but it came to him quite suddenly that this was always the programme oftheir holidays—some Mediterranean villa, full of clever people, forhim, and the awful dulness of that Bloomsbury street for her; or he wentNorth to a shooting-lodge, where he told his best stories in thesmoking-room, after a long day on the purple heather; and she did her bestfor Bertie at some watering-place, much frequented on account of itsrailway facilities and economical lodgings. Letters of invitation hadgenerally a polite reference to his wife—“If Mrs. Trevor canaccompany you I shall be still more delighted”—but it was understoodthat she would not accept “We have quite a grudge against Mrs. Trevor,because she will never come with her husband; there is some beautifulchild who monopolises her,” his hostess would explain on his arrival; andTrevor allowed it to be understood that his wife was quite devoted toBertie, and would be miserable without him.

When he left the room, it was explained: “Mrs. Trevor is a hopelesslyquiet person, what is called a 'good wife,' you know.”

“The only time she dined with us, Tottie Fribbyl—he was aTheosophist then, it's two years ago—was too amusing for word

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