THE POST CURD.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 129, 7 January 1916, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE POST CURD.

It had been one of those foolish quarrels in which lovers and sweethearts in. variably indulge. It was not so very different from those the usual couple

hav-?, either, only they were more in earnest in their decision never, never to make it up. Others had quarrelled and become reconciled, but that was because their injury was slight, I'mnerino's head was held very high, and Robert's teeth were set very hard. '• Until you send for me, Miss Lampy, I will never come to you,'' Robert said, melodramatically. "You will wait many years, then, - ' Catherine responded. So they parted, each to forget the other —if they could.

Twelve weary months had passed months filled with intense longings. Robert went about his business as if nothing had happened ; and Catherine attended all the social functions to winch she was invited. Robert grew thinner; and Catherines' blue eyes became bluer and bigger all the while. " I would not care if only it did not keep on hurting," Catherine thought, as she caught a glimpse of Robert's hnt just disappearing behind the trees where he was taking Miss Williams for a stroll. "Robert knows all the cosy places in the park, she continued. She. did not forget who had shown them to him, but she preferred to forget. Unconsciously her mind reverted to the day he and she had' hidden from the merry company where he had now gone with Miss Williams. That was the day he told her how much he loved her. She turned quickly to join the others. "I ought to feel aehamc-d of myse'f!" slie exciuimed. "That's what T think," a man's voice said, almost at her elbow. She wanted to scream, but controlled herself. "You are very rude to frighten me so," she said, coolly. "And you are very rude to talk to yourself when there are so many who are waiting to hear you sing. J was sent out to find you." Catherine glanced at her companion out of the corners of her eyes. He looked innocent enough. " 1 hope he doesn't suspect," she thought. ''Do sing us something, "a chorus hailed her, as she came into the room. She never felt less like singing in her life. Her head ached, and picture-; of Robert and Miss Wi'liams passed before her mental vision. "If only they weren't there,'' she murmured. Any place but there " Seating herself at the piano, she ran her fingers lightly over the keys. Withotu realising why she did it, she commenced the old song: "It was there that Annie Laurie Gave me her promise true." Her voice trembled, and the audience recognised a. deep feeling in the words. No one so thoroughly understood them, however, as the man who entered the room a£ the close of the first verse. 'She will never send for me," lie thought, bitterly, "and I cannot go to her until .she does." Rising from the piano, she said, wearily: ' I had' rather not sing again: my

A Charming Short Story.

head aches." For one second her eye sought Robert's. "And my hear aches, she read there.

A few weeks later Ctaherine was in the postoflice sending a registered letter tor her father. While still at the desk an old woman came in. Looking around in a frightened manner, she sa.w Catherine. Catherine smiled kindly, and the old woman held out a penny to her. "Would you mind writing a postcard for me?" she asked. "I doesn't know how to write, and I wants my son to come home. He's been away this long whiJe." "Certainly," Catherine answered, buying the postcard. "Now what shall I write?" The old woman stuttered and stammered. " Indeed, I doesn't know;. you say what you likes." The post-office faced Robert's office. 'He's been away this long while," came into her mind. "'Come to me, dearest; I want you," she wrote. Then she read it to the old woman. "That's fine:" she exclaimed. "To whom shall I address it" Catherine asked, softly, "1 don't know where he is at," she answered, hesitatingly. "Never mind, givo it to me," she said. "I forgot about the address part. " She took it from Catherine, whose heart was too full of her own sorrow to perceive the old woman's well-feigned disappointment.

# * * Ti-at night the bell rang two short, quick rings Catherine started. "It\Robert's ring." she thought. Almost before she realised it, she was in Inarms sobbing out ail her trouble-. "I thought you would never conic." she said, smiling through her tears. "' But you .sent for me, and how couirt I stuv away?" "What?" she asked. Robert could scarcely suppress r. smile as he handed her a postcard. "Come back to me, dearest; I want you " she read in her own handwriting. The truth dawned on her whet she saw how full of happinesi Robert was. "Where did you get it?" she asked. " I found it in the street." he answered.

Mss William; sat quite alone in her room. Every few minutes she looked out of the door as if she was expecting someone. Finally an old woman came into the room. "'I have done it." she said.

"Are you sure Mr. Hall pickoir tt up?" Miss Wil'iams asked, anxiously. "Yes, miss. 1 seen him. and you just ou;»hti>r seen his face." iMss Williams smiled. "You have managed nicely, music: leave me' now."

The smile died from the lips of M: s Williams when she was left alone. ' It was there that Annie Laurie Gave me her oronii.se true,"

she hummed, sadly, and a. strange new pain filled her heart.-From "Spare Moments."