SHORT STORY.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 440, 15 September 1904, Page 7

SHORT STORY.

cousnr CIAELET.

* (RHE is lovely V said the cousin from Buenos Ayres. • Indeed! said little Flo. i - meeting was quite a romance, CiSilft—Jrtvrthorn boughs and roses and ibing* »n all sides—after we got out of the station. lam glad I managed to take the wrong ' rain from town!' Flo held up her finger, laughing. * Think of poor little me—and of the pony—waiting half an hour in dismal disappointment, and then crawling back alone, past the same hawthorn boughs and roses!' ' Oh yes,' said Charley, laughing back. «But one c»n't connect romance with you, or with—the pony.' ' Then tell me about the beauty.' • Well, she got out cf the same train, and nobody "met her either. She had a little bag to carry, and I had nothing. So, when we got out of the station and began to march solemnly down the one long road, I raised my hat and said, ' Allow me,' which may have been uncivilised; but when a fellow has just arrived frcm the wilds, he can't be expected to know that it is rude to offer to carry a lady's luggage. She turned the loveliest indignant face in the world upon me, hugging her bag with both hands. ' No—thanks.' she said shortly, and proceedsd to the very farthest side of the road. It made me very red ; and then I began to feel amused; for she was looking with all her might for a stile to get over; and if there were any breaks in the hawthorn, those sweet wild-roses crammed them up. Honestly, Flo, do I look very—primeval?' She pretended to study him, but answered fairly: • No; only fresher than most people. Not a bit like a tramp.' ' She did not like- my presence, though, unintroduced ! And you see we walked at pretty much the same pace ; she on one side aad lon the other. I think the roses near her were sweeter; she kept her eyes * on them, and I glanced that way too. But suddenly she turned and caught my look. Then she stopped to fasten a bootlace that was not untied; and as she meant me to proceed, I did it, though it was hard. - •Poor boy I' said his cousin, patting his shoulder as - she spoke. ' What a long story ! And are you very, very smitten ?' •ph, awfully,' said Charley. 'Be a comfort to me, Flo.' She smiled as frankly as himself. ' Indeed, I will,' she eaid. • You shall pour out your woes to me as you used, and I will advise you; and ask her to tea.' Out of the depths of an easy-chair came a sudden interruption : ' Well, children, and what about the wedding V They stared at each other blankly. The wedding f Flo looked down at her hands. They were not pretty. Useful little pudgy things, not overburdened with jewellery. She wore only one ring, and it flashed in her eyes now, reminding her of something. Charley, following her look, started. • Oh!' he said. A shadow of constraint fell over them. It spoilt their talk, and made them—these old comrads!—positively shy. It was absurd. Flo said so to herself, looking as if she would like to pull ott her only ring. But she had worn it long, and only soapy water could get it from her finger. She and Charley had always been the best of friends; but just before he went, a jfrayot twenty-one, to make his way abroad, *Tfcsy had a sentimental fit. Charley had spent an uncle's tip on a ring for her, and Flo's parents took the matter seriously, though the two young things got over their sentiment very soon. After the first few mails, Charley wrote no more flowery details of the house he meant to build, and the telegram he would send to fetch her when it was ready; and Flo quite gave up studying the wedding gowns in papers. But when Flo was left an orphan, and Aunt Mary had addressed to him a long and solemn letter, he wrote to Flo, bidding her remember she belonged to him, and then filling up the rest of his letter in the old brother-fashion. Now Charley had come over to England • for a spree,' he said. He found his little cousin the same as ever, a bright, busy, little soul; fair and round, and not particularly beautiful, but the jolliest little comrade in the world. The very first . morning she had gathered up his socks and carried them to mend, in the nicest and least romantic way. Like a shock to both of them came the fact, never soberly faced till now, that they were engaged to each other t Aunt Mary, very —kindly and considerately, remembering that the two had not had a private talk since Charley's coming on the day before, rose up from her comfortable chair and left the room. Her niece looked after her in consternation; and Charley gave an embarrassed laugh, and then began to whistle. There was no savour in an obvious tete-a-tetc with Flo. It was she who solved the difficulty by getting up and retreating after her too kind relation. 'lt is ridiculous!' she cried, pausing on the threshold; and then she slammed the door.

'My dear child' Aunt Mary was holding forth in the kitchen, whence the only maid had been despatched upon a message, Flo knelt on the fender, making toast, and her cheeks were as hot as her angry little brain. 'My dear child,' went on Aunt Mary solemnly, * the present arrangement, sanctioned by your parents, is eminently desirable. Charley and you know all each other's faults and habits; and such a good little housekeeper as you are is just the thing for a man in his position. I may say you have been brought up expressly for that purpose, since I have always in your training kept your probable future well in mind' • Bother !* ejaculated Flo. ' Besides, my dear, your parents quite considered it a settled matter. You would surely never disappoint their wishes, and for a whim of your own upset a plan known and approved by everybody, and especially advantageous to yourself and Charley' Flo's toast was burning black and ominous. She only said, however, getting redder, * But if Charley does not care—for me?' 'He is very fond of you, I am sure,' declared Aunt Mary, * and more than that would be superfluous' * Or—l—for Charley?' 'Do not be foolish I' With these words Aunt Mary caught the fork from her niece's careless hands and held up the smoking jpr toast. Flo saw rebuke approaehiag, and . but not to go and talk to Charley. There was a lump in her throat that would have to come out at her eyes. •Take Charley for a walk.' These were Aunt Mary's commands, delivered stringently, and Flo, while fetching her hat, made up her mind that it should not be a solitary country ramble. It would have been so nice to tramp over muddy fields with Charley and chatter as they did of old. But that was impossible when they were sent out as engaged people, with the horrid consciousness upon them that they were truly such.

•We will call -on the Smiths,' she suggested quickly, and Charley seem relieved. Out of Aunt Mary's sight, they were not so constrained, and managed to forget that they were anything but chums. As they marched up the weedy path that brought them to the Smiths', the rising fun in Flo's gray eyes encountered more in Charley's, and they rubbed their boots on the mat in merry fellowship. There was tennis going on in the garden behind. They passed through a crooked passage, and came suddenly out among geraniums and balls and people. ' There she is!' whispered Charley—' the beauty of the station.' But Flo looked disappointed-'

•That is Helen Smith,' she whispered back. ' Oh, Charley, is she your style V • I think her very pretty,' said Charley stoutly.

His cousin raised her eyebrows. ' All right; I will present you,' she observed shortly, • and you can go and talk to her.' Charley was only too delighted. Properly brought up and introduced, he . was quite acceptable to Helen Smith, and was permitted to fetch a camp-stool to her side. Her big dark eyes were very kind, and her voice was slow and friendly. At the end of a very pleasant quarter of an hour, he looked lazily round to see what Flo was about, and saw her wandering among rows of distant cabbages with a tall and soldierly companion. As Charley could not keep his eyes entirely fixed on Helen Smith, he glanced over yonder now and then, and counted how often they passed the cabbages. Six times. It was rather rude of Flo to desert her cousin so completely. They turned. She must be coming now. But no ; they went serenely off along a hedge of peas. • ■ , • . ' Weil, did you get on with Helen Smith ?' said Flo, as she and her cousin proceeded home. Charley, however, had a grievance which no gratitude could smother. ' What made you go off with that fellow?' he said. 'I didn't like the look of him at all.' Flo looked up quickly, with the light of battle in her eyes. 'No? He is Helen's brother—an officer,' she said, and then was silent, though she had not uttered all she meant to say. After a while she spoke again, briskly: 'To-morrow, Helen is coming to tea.' Charley was at his window. On the chest of drawers lay a row of neatly folded socks, fresh from Flo's tidy fingers. She had hemmed the crisp little frills of the curtains he pushed aside, and she had pinned illuminated texts above the mantelpiece. But he was not thinking of Flo. Perhaps of somebody with great dark eyes, and a slow, sweet voice. Somebody whose face was like that in a Christmas annual that Flo had once posted to Buenos Ayres, along with her own photograph in a tie and sailor hat. He had gazed long at the lovely face in the engraving—far longer than he had at the likeness of his little cousin! He had said then that he would never see such a face in real life. But he had seen Helen Smith. All at once the small room seemed to stifle him. It reminded him of ties and promises that hemmed him in, ties that he could not fairly break. It made him feel as if all beautiful faces like Helen Smith's were far away, and amongst the rest of dear things unattainable; and he could not bear it. Hurrying down the narrow stair, and just diving into Aunt Mary's presence to secure a match, he went into the garden and began to smoke. A straggling appletree hid the stiff little red-brick dwelling from his view, and far down the twisting road he could see the trees and the white smoke of Helen Smith's abode. It was hard on a fellow to be bound like this. He had been a boy and an idiot then; but everybody took it for granted that he had the same mind still. And he could not fairly go up to Flo, kind little Flo, and say : ' You are a jolly little chum, and I like you very much ; but Ido want something else in a wife.' That would be a mean thing, and he could not do it. But if only ' Charlev!'

He started. Flo, in her cotton blouse and dark blue skirt, was hurrying down the path. Her face was red, as if she had been crying, and her hair was rather tumbled. 'I want to speak to you,' she called, panting. Then she took him to the very end of the garden, which no window saw, and began. 'Aunt Mary has been driving me wild. She keeps reminding me that you and I are engaged, and telling me that—that you really need me, and that it is horrid of me to feel—different. Oh Charley, we were such good friends before ! and now I know we are both cross and miserable, and I am sure yoo are getting to hate me, and I—l am getting to hate you. .It would be so much better if we were not engaged, and if we might do whatever we liked. I want to give you back your iing, Charlie; and, please, let us be happy'again!' She ended with a short, excited scb, and held out the ring glittering in her palm. There was a mark round her finger where it had been, and she had spent an hour trying to get it off with soap and water; but at last she had succeeded, "and had brought it out all wet and shining.. Charley looked at her, full of relief. Poor little Flo ! So she had been in the same condition as himself, only she was braver about it than he, and had the courage to put an end to it all. ' So ithat is all square,' he said, after many arguments put weakly on his part, and a | triumphant overriding of them by Flo. fucking her arm in his own, he proposed a walk. But Flo shook her head, and said she had things to do. Would he take a note to Helen Smith ? 1 11. He was free, quite free—Charley told himself so many times, as he tramped down the muddy country lane with Flo's little note in his pocket. It made a difference; to everything; the very air seemed and the sun more cheery. Still, he was sorry that Flo had not kept his ring. She had had it so long; it did not seem nice of her to give it back like a trifle she did not prize or care for in the least. Might she not have said : ' I .vill keep my ring for your sake all the same, Charley ?' He had asked her to; but she had declared that Aunt Mary would need its disappearance as a proof that matters were really at an end. Dear little Flo ! She was as glad as he was to be on the same footing as of yore, and to have got rid of the complication that was upsetting their friendship for each other.

The Smiths' gate swung gaily shut as Charley sauntered through. The Smiths' cat sat on the door-mat very solemnly, but arose to greet him, and purred about his boots. And Helen Smith rose slowly from a hammock in the garden and met him on the grass. He was not taken into the drawingroom. Why should one introduce dirty feet to the crumbless carpet and disturb the fluffy tidies on the chairs, when the sun was shining warmly on the lawn ?'

The note was opened and read- Something about bazzar-work, needing Mrs Smith to dictate the answer. She was out; but Charley was willing to wait, and Helen sat under the trees and looked enchanting ; while he in his new-found freedom felt as if there were nothing to prevent his gazing at her as much as he liked, and as long as she would let him. The martial tread of Helen's brother disturbed them suddenly.

He stalked up, leaving heavy traces on the grass, and shook hands with Charley very shortly. Then he looked round and asked if he had come alone. The civilian saw him march back into the house, and thought to himself that Major Smith was a poor specimen of a British soldier, in spite of his girth and height. It did not need Helen's soft laugh to explain that if his cousin Flo had accompanied him, Major Smith would not have been in such a hurry to retire, though he had ' letters to write.' And Charley considered that Flo was far too good for him, though he was Helen's only brother. Helen hid not talk much, now they were together and alone. But Charlie trusted that Mrs Smith would not feel called upon to hurry. How beautiful she was!—not Mrs Smith, of course. How daintily her hair waved backwards, and how sweet and white were the hands that lay so idly on her lap. He could not help wondering how the ring Flo had repudiated would look on her taper finger. It would have to be taken in considerably first. And then the brisk swish of coming skirts was heard, and Mrs Smith called out' Good morning!' shrilly in advance.

(To be concluded next week.)