Literature.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVI, Issue 298, 21 December 1904, Page 4

Literature.

T FATE'S DECREE. ♦The man of the world flecked a bit of dust from his patent-leather boots with a dainty silk handkerchief. ciilrse," §£id Mrs' Branscoult)?, : "FAall-'db my biest ; fbr my sister's child—get her a good husband, and ■ all thiit'; biit, you sde, Maisie is a simple, shy sort of girl." "My door Mrs Branscomibp," oSrpcrvved the Joan of the world, "don't do toorftfuA jbi; fcery" Dr Houghton 'had a lazy way of ' makingi jmcli -reiijarks. The fear of offence nmf's&fijlgki'to' wdg!i on 'him. f Exceedingly ambitious, though he wimhl never admit it, his regular, clear-cut features were stamped with the Impassiveness t<* all emotion that f- marks the successful mnn of the A ' -You are extremely impertinent !" exclaimed Mrs Branscombe, without, 1 however, showing any signs of dis,filpasu£C> ."I know what you mean j:<ju warri' Hie not 'to do. too , much for her. You like that country i: flavour carries aliout wi'l.-it her. jOpfcrift characteristic of you—super- ' fastidious, pleasure-exhausted man that you are. It's a novelty—all the

.unaffected jngenuoiisness which clings "i to'the poor cTiitd. You would call it awktt-arrtness. '^tlipid ity, in a sistvr ■ of ytmr own-." ; : "liu-t '' interrupted the young 1 physician, raisijvg. his hand. i ■ ihft;" went' on in's "lecturer, coin-, "tt aniusc.,ypurself'with it when you encounter it in a simple, lit tle country girl. Ah, you men are all alike. Kut Mafsie,' remember', is a relative of mine, and since' Fate has thrown her into hi.? way for the particular t purpose of polishing up her rusticity , I moan to do my duty by her —even," • ■ she concluded, turning a smiling face : ' and Wright keen eyes upon her victim ■ "at the risk of making her as frivolous and conventional a person as ■v- myselEfv "' >- •. ' ' Dr Houghton stroked his moustache reflectively and smiled. <?-' ' 'you know your charms are Irrcs"tililc," He said. "You also can be irrestiWe—when you choose. I shoilld ; ni)t' winder 'if you jl.Wng so while I am gone.' Hri' ittfecotebe' looked at him intently. "Whi'e you are gone 7" 'Yes. Maisie is to stay here, you know—u'rtder' the 'protection of the ancient Miss Mariner. The old govcr J cfltft. so far .as she jroes, ljut that's not very far. J am afraid she would lye no match for you if .vou were suddenly to take it into your head to make love to my little niece from the country, v "Oh, tfon't stare !" she continued. You aretftiite' capable of it. You'd experiment with her. It would be a • new case for you to study. It would interest the professional soul of the physician while it would exhilarate the palate of the man of the world.' She looked at him intently. -'-'Why do you repeat that ? Why do you call me a man of the world ? I am 'a* Hardworking, -impecunious diudge-rffV doctor. The two terms

are far from t'hc same thing." ■ '-'Oh, no false modesty ! You know you are determined to succeed—to climb very high !". She laughed at -<■ v. his jiilcnce. . • '•'Jio, it never pleases a man like you to have his ambition unmasked, : of course. Nevertheless, how can '* one help seeing and understand ?" '■ She stookiip, and took the hint- rfs a sfen to go.' "Mrs Brans--Combe continued to smile at him . with»hcr keen, practised eyes, then ?■ ■ ■■ she put out her hand.

"Don't relinquish your purpose, bigh, by all means. »• - r'lftef to see iucb sittcesses. They're a, glorious thing:. Jfost people are'the Berva'nts of circumstances, either un....WllUflg or too ' lazy to disobey its commands. But you arc its master. You are determined that nothing will yon from ntt«vining your eml. "*• the reason ' why j do not tfiiA jfnw to find niy little Maisie too - interesting." - -It' a&t'-tm Houghton's lips to ask this vivacious little' lady what she really meant. Hiit he considered it ~~ would be a needless subterfuge he . < knew quite well what she was h-int-v -ing at.

S "There is no lolling what a man may <lo," he remarked' lightly. A moment he was gone.' Pr ' Houghton did not pass Mrs &-ansconrhes pretty ivy-clad villa till some days afterwards, when that lady's carriage drove up to the door. Tne' gvotefyj.iift figure of the old govermkP'ttWftfKtJd, followed by the fair ' bf Miss Ulaisie hang. worthy. i The girl bowed shyly, blushed pre tJ'i'V, hesitated, and finally put out ■-■ nor hi]ml. S'm had the air of -not knowing exactly this were ( i!uitc the right thing 1o do. But her row emttarrassmont in the setting of her . broad, summer hnt and her thin ; white muslin dress, pleased tile critical sense of this undemonstrative fl nd rather hard-to-pkiase young man ♦ in an astonishing degree. Z ■ r^°. ,le sun ' l,ll had in a way promil - Vwtf Hranscombe not to' obtrude v ■. onj attentions upon her inexperienccd charge. Hut lie reflected that being civil was not paying attentions. , At any rate, and however he may - have wfuored the matter with his 1 j.:.: conscience, ho accepted the half-hes-itaiing; invitation which Miss Maisie .. extended to him to cuter the villa, -v He spent half an houl- rn the pleasant drawing-room, and for the rest : . tfui day \tiis somewhat pensive,and his'cases aUsorbed him, perhaps less than usual. - week later l)r was in -■.yitcdiion gardert-party' held in the - delightful grounds of ono of the innuui;ij(er of wo- > ■ illen wh<> believed that the clever young physician was the onlv jierson " t., who-,thoroujjhly unders(tood the vari" lous peculiarities of their constitur lions. F . '-This 'lady was a jvidow of uncer- ,» tain age, the possessor of a very fat ' «4#Mkffef9>k, and a figure that corres- ' ; ■ Ponded. To all intents and purpos- ,... .'tyMMfftfrnnrcr, thanks to simdrv visits f" ~ , : to "beauty doctors, Mrs Choniley was a vpung woman. There was a conp -<■ ficwusness of \this fact in the smile f g V th which she detained the rising t at; her side. pension Dr Tfoughton was

not. such an attentive listener to the lady's Chatter as he usually was. Now and -then his cold earnest eyes would persist in wandering to a certain little tea-lent. Mrs Chomley noticed it. ' "Leave me this instant, sir," she said, half seriously, "if you want to talV to t'hivt simple child over t'here.' "Must, T ?" asked Houghton, with gravity. Hut the stout widow had already turned her tack upon him. Maisie was standing near a white canvas tout, wherein were grouped a number of young ladies, with haug'lvty,critical eyes, engaged more in entertaining a cluster if slim, limp youth in- ultra-fashionable garments than in the strawberries and cream a.nd other dainties which adorned the I little tables. Maisie was entirely ignortd by them, as s-he stood with a certain wistfulness jpon her fair child-like features. "What brutes women can be to each other," commented Houghton, striding over the lawn. (To be continued.)