NOT WHAT SHE WANTED.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 28, 7 October 1893, Page 6

NOT WHAT SHE WANTED.

He had made love to a thousand girls, and he had told the same story of loyalty and devotion to each one. At first it was accepted as true, and a few tender young hearts were strained almost to the breaking point, but in time the objects of his adoration caught on, and he was not such a heart smasher as he thought he was. Last winter or early this spring a young Leeds woman crossed his path. She was beautiful, rich, and responsive, and he threw himself at her feet. She rather liked the idea of his being there, though she knew him better than he knew himself, and she did not disillusionise him. One day she sat idly listening to his tale of love, and she was getting tired. “ I would,” she said, “ I had a harp whose strings I might touch and find a chord responsive to my own heart’s yearning.” He caught her hands in his fervently, “ Dear one,” he murmured, “ take me.” She drew her hand away icily, and looked on him with a cruel glitter in her lovely eyes. “ I said a harp,” and the words came as the blows of a heavy hammer; “ I said a harp, not a lyre.” And then he smote his mouth with a club, and 'went forth and kicked himself.