"KISMET."

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 60, 3 August 1907, Page 4

"KISMET."

"Kismet is all nonsense! It is absurd to talk of such things. There is no such thing as Fate. Men arc masters of their own actions." Mr Ford's voice was very pompous as he spoke. He was used to laying down the law. He was passing' the week end at Langley Hall, and he was rather pleased with his neighbors at the luncheon-table. Kitty Renston was so young and pretty, she had the bluest of blue eyes, and was, above all things, s ich a good listener. ''Perhaps you are right," she admitted. ' Only sometimes it seems to me that things are beyond one's own control." "Xot a bit of it," he said. "It is only lazy people who say that—people who make an effort to help themselves, and when their lives prove failures they say it is all due to their bad luck." "Lady Tiverton tells me you are putting up for Cray ton." she said, apparently irrelevantly. "''Aren't you excited about it? I can't imagine anything more delightful than Iteing a member of Parliament!" clasping her hands with enthusiasm. "I don't know so much about being delightful." hp answered primly. "I only do it as a matter of duty. I consider that all men of leisure who are—ahem—gifted with more than average brains should attempt to take their part in the government of their country." "And what sort of man is your opponent ?" "<>h, f'rampton is quite young—he can't be more than thirty, and between i you and me, his intelligence is not very | striking He is a good sportsman, they I say. and T think it js a pity he does not |'stick to his'last." But he does as a tool for his party, and merely echoes its j views, and that is all it wants." "Then you quite expect to get in?" Tic smiled confidently. "1 think T shall come out all right." he said. "Orampton has a certain amount of eloquence, but it is merely froth, ami not at all convincing. Besides I have the Suffragettes on my side, and that means a good deal. f believe 1 they meant to attend his meeting last i ' and did nil they could to stop his speak- \ ing. And T can assure yon that their efforts in such a direction are not to to despised." "But it is rather too bad, Isn't it?" she objected. "Surely they might allow him a hearing?" ITe smiled indulgently. "My dear young lady, all is fair In love and war, you know." he said. "T dare say Vou will have plenty of experience of this maxim in one respect at any rate as the vears go on. What a lovely day it is f I feel quite annoyed that I have to go up to town."

"Are von going this afternoon?" "1 must catch the seven o'clock (rain, or I shall never get down to Cravton ill time to-morrow, and that would be a fatal thing." ''Have you 1» address a meeting, then V" "No, lam going to a wedding. -Mr Clarke's daughter is to be married, and he is the most influential man in Crayton. He keeps large stores, and lias aliout three hundred employees, who are certain to vote just whichever way lie determines, so to offend him would be certain to turn the scales at the election."

•■And would he really lie so annoyed if you did not go to tin- wedding:" she a-ked. with wide-open eyes, lie nodded His head. "Clarke is rather a" unprincipled man,'' he said. "His one wish is to rise ill the social scale, and so he would support the candidate who would probably belp him 'nn»t in bis aspirations. A mail's views are nothing to him. That is where diplomacy cornea in. To get a vote one must study each person very earefullv, and try to pander to his individual' weaknesses," "I dare say," she replied with some indifference; and he reproached himself for talking over her head. "What is everyone going to do this afternoon!" lie asked. "1 want to try lo be in the of en air as much as poairible." "Come on to the river," she said eagerly. "We might scull out to the is-1 land, where there are ever .so many for-get-me-knots. Yon don't know how beautiful and fdiady it is there!" "It sounds very nice," tie said, "but. unfortunately, 1 am too lazy. I don't feel up to anv to-day." "But I will d>*he work," she persisted. "I will d^Veryttl'ig-d 0 come." I JHe was flatfam at the thought of girl de^u^^ls

i boat." And iho hurried away to put on her hat. f It was a lovely summer's day—so hot • that the river itself seemed tired, and had gone to sleep. There was scarcely , a ripple on its smooth surface. It was , delightful to sit in the stern of a boat with a charming girl in front who was ; sculling with such consummate grace and skill. She kept up a little ripple of conversation too, all the way, and Ford was wholly fascinated. He made n feeble protest at her exerting hrrs' f so much, but ;ho reiused tr let h'm do anything. "Ibis is my J expedition, and my boat lor 'lie (.fine being," she said. "Yon are only a passenger, and must do as you are told," and lie wa? only too pleased to yield to I such charming tyranny. It did not take them more than half-an-hour to reach the island, and there they landed and crossed to the other side, and he lay down under the shady trees wlii'e she picked forget-me-nots a little way off. The weather was very sultry; everything was so still—there wa sno sound but the lazy humming of some bees as they Bitted ill and out of the wild flowers which grew in such profusion close by. A water-rat jumped into the river with a sudden splash. Ford started up aiul rubbed his eyes. How long had he been asleep? Kitty Renston was still picking forget-me-knots, but the sun seemed a good deal lower in the heavens ■ than it had been when he last looked, i He hurriedly pulled out his watch, and then rose to his feet as quickly as his ! half-a-ccntury-old legs would allow him. < "My dear Miss Renston," he called, "I had no idea it was so late—l shall only j just have time to get back and catcjv ( my train—we must start at once."

Kitty ran up to him with a large posy of forget-me-nots in her hand. "I have been longing for my tea," she cried, "but I did not like to disturb you. See. here is a button-hole for you, to help you not to forget this delightful afternoon." "I am not likely to forget it," he said, placing the flowers in his coat. "Especially"—gallantly—"as these are just the color of your eyes. But I must not waste any more time—l am afraid wo shall have to hurry." "It is down stream going home, so we shail be back in no time." They walked quickly across the island to where the boat had been moored, but there they stopped short in surprise. Not a sign of her was to be seen. "What has become of her?" cried Ford, frowning darkly. "I though it was here you tied her up?"

"So I did—but—but where is she? I tied her to this old stump. You don't think anyone can have come and stolen her. do you?" And her b'ue eyes were opeueil wide with anxiety, but he was in no mood to admire them now. "Vou must have tied her up very insecurely." he answered crossly, "and she has drifted down stream. Now, what is to be done? I must catch the seven o'clock train—it means everything to me. What a fool I was to come here! What a fool! What is to be done!" "I don't know." Tears had filled her eyes at his angry words. "Do you think it is any I''t' Routine? Someone might hear us. Oh, lam so sorry—you can't think how aorrv I am." "Your contrition won't help matters much," he said irritably. "Tell mi—have the Tivertons a motor here they could lend me in case 1 lose this train? I might then be able to get to town tomorrow in order to catch the express down to Crayton" Hut Kitty shook her head. "Lord Tiverton is old-fashioned, and hates motors," she said. "He will never hear of one being brought to the hall on any pretence whatever. Wouldn't a dog«,.it da!"

"Tut! tut!" he ciiwl, almost beside himself witli rage. "How is a horse going to manage eighty miles! Well, the first thing we've got to think of is to try to get off here. As far as I can sec there won't be a chance for a month." Kitty hurst into a flood of tears. "Do you mean that we shall have to star here all night?' she cried. "Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do?" Ford forbore to tell her that it was licr own fault—indeed, he was almost ashamed of his outburst of temper. "Probably someone will see the boat, ami guess we have been stranded," he said, trying to console her. "I don't expect wc shall ever get off," she said pessimistically, as she wiped her eyes. "It is Fate revenging herself on you because you denied her existence, this morning—we shall stay here till we die—we shall starve " "That is absurd," he said. "Of course they will miss us and send a search party. There is nothing else to do but wait. But I suppose I must give up all idea of catching the train. It is the most distressing thing in the world—the most distressing thing—l thought you knew all about how to tic up a iioat—l never imagined anyone could be so stupid " He wheeled round and walked away, for he could not control his irritability, and he was afraid of a fresh outburst of tears. She turned in the opposite direction, and roamed round the island, searching in vain for the missing boat. He sat down at a spot where he could catch sight of anyone approaching up the river, and taking out a cigar, lit it, and smoked in silence. Kitty came up to him after a little. It seemed as if his attitude irritated her. "You said at luncheon to-day," She remarked, "that men were masters of their own actions. Can you do no-

thing?" "There is nothing to do," he snapped, and went on smoking. It is not gratifying to have one's theories brought up at a time when it is impossible to carry them into practice. She shrugged her shoulders somewhat contemptuously, and once more left him alone. The day wore on, and the sun grew lower and lower. Ford finished his cigar, and then found that he had not another. Perhaps this disturbed him almost as much as the fact of losing his train. The time began to drag very heavily. Down 011 the ground beside him lay the posy of forget-me-nots that Kitty had picked earlier in the afternoon—now withered and faded. He looked down at his buttonhole which had the same depressed appearance, and with an impatient gesture pulled it out and threw the flowers ou the ground. What a sentimental fool lie had been!

There was a little desultory talk between the two lint not much. The sun sank in gorgeous splendor, painting the west with crimson and gold, and it was not until the last vestige of color had gone out of the skv that the welcome dip of oars was heard, anil a boat appeared [to rescue them.

Tin- wedding was over, and tlie lust guest Imil left. Mr Clarke sit down and mopped iiis brow. "Well, I think, my dear," lie said to hi wife, "that everything went off very well, and Laura looked very handsome. 1 consider she did us credit. Lord! What a crowd there was in the church! I should think all Crayton was there." "Oh. 1 am snre I,aura was very much admired," agreed Mrs Oarkc. Ml Ciamptou himself congratulated me on the charming bride. Tut where was Mr Ford? How «.is i( he never turned lip'; He accepted, intd said he would be 'delighted to come." She had taken her handkerchief, and was waving it to I and fro in her lace, and using it as a

fan. r t i Mr Clarke's face grew dark. "1 hail a wire from him before we started for church," lie replied. "He said he was sorry that unforeseen events lirevented his coming—unforeseen events; fiddlesticks! I knew all along how it would he. These swells get invited by the Earl of This or the Marquis of That, and they think it is very easy to throwover anyone like mo. But Mr Foru won't find it so easy ftfi lie thinks. ( « c don't want a member 'ere (his Hs always got a bit shaky when he grew_ excited) who looks down on us, and thinks i Vs too grand to come to our parties. Crampton's my man—as affable an you iike, and enjoyed himself so much that he was one of the last to go. Goodbye, Mr Clarke,' he said. 'I don't know when I've seen a prettier wedding." Those were 'is very words." "Oh. ves," heartily, "I like him. He s always 'cheerful and ready with his bit of fun." "Well, if I've any weight in the matter, Crampton'll win," said her husband, "At one time I thought Ford might look after our interests better, but after to-day my opinion's <mitc changed You'll see we shall fron: him tomorrow apologies.

laugh last, and next Friday you will see the boot will be on the other leg." It was the day after the election, and the result of the polls had just been declared. Cramptun had been elected with a majority of three hundred, and the crowd outside the town hall was cheering lustily.

The news fell on Ford's ears with a crushing blow. Until a week ago he had been so confident of victory, and even since then he had not deemed it possible that he could be beaten. Three" hundred! Three hundred! Then, as lie feared, it was Clarke and his following who had voted against him, and turned the scales in his opponent's favor. For Clarke hnd never been the same to him since he had failed to turn up at his daughter's ivedding. What cruel luck it was that he should have been stranded thus on that wretched is'and! He forgot that only a few days ago lie was protesting that luck had nothing to do with the issues of life.

However, he determined to present a bold front to the public and went up to his opponent with outstretched hand. "I congratulate you," he said in his pompous way, and no one would have Imagined the effort it was to him to do the correct thing. "Thank vou very much," answered Crampton. He did not care for Ford, but he did not wish to triumph now in his hour of victory, and turning (o a pretty girl standing by his side, he said; "May I introduce you to my fiancee? Mr Ford —Miss Renston." "Mr Ford and I have met before," she answered, while a rush of color suffused her face.

The defeated candidate stood looking at her for two or three moments witli[out speaking. "Then—then it was not —Fate," he shid at last very slowly. "It' was not Fate who untied the boat," she admitted. "It was T. I did it when you were asleep. But if you remember you told me a little time before that 'All is fair In love and war,' and—don't yon think Fate had something to do with the fact of your meeting me on that particular afternoon?"