CYNTHIA'S CAREER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 60, 14 September 1907, Page 4

CYNTHIA'S CAREER.

That t am now engaged to Cynthia, and the. happiest muu in the world-bar imnu—l owe to a newspaper discussion. It happened in this wise. When I arrived as usual to spend the afternoon with Cvnthia. 1 found her. to my great surprise, immersed in the paper. She never even troubled to open one as a rale. She was king in the hammock, a great hush of crimson rhododentroiis forming an appropriate background to her dainty blue gown. Her manner was distinctly distant, and she replied at random to all I said. -Piper verv interesting':" I said at last, rather tartly. I had inquired after the health of her aunt, and D;o----wnrs. the hlnek poodle, and related my own small stock of happenings at the War Otli.e. - ■■Kr-um-T Leg ymiv pardon. V hat did vou sav?" asked Cynthia, looking over*the edge of the paper at me, and blinking her forget-me-not blue eyes ab-sent-mindedly. . -ll.iw i- the Hague Conference going: ()r pcrhap- it- the money market■ y,*> so ab*>rbed in':" I said, (li-embiing my ~di„-. not very M,c,e,-s,'ully. 1 had looked forward to the customary delightful afternoon with Cynthia, ami without undue vanitv it was annoying to be so ovcrU.ked. " "Dli dear, no. I'.ut there s something iv.,l!v important in the paper to-day,' iuid'she Jivdfh-1 l-'l-avely at me. ■•lmbed. Vou suvuii-e me, I rcpli-d drjly. -Ves. l!ul it is .-o puzzling. 1 can t make up n v mind. What do you think is the best'career for women':" ■•To sit in a hammock, wear til iv ii-etin>t blue frock, and make theinagreeable to their friends." 1 said | promptly, with a special emphasis on ; the last' phrase. I A fiiini .mile cro.-od the corners oi h r mouth, and she looked approvingly at her frock. •■Oh! Thai's so like a man when you a-k his advice. 1 see now what you are. You're just one of those men who want women to Ik: dolls " "Well! Kven that's a career—ofvsnrts -isn't it':" I interjected. She flash d scorn at urn. anil 1 immediately rcgrelled me flippancy. "Bui lias anything happened? 1 don't understand," 1 hastened to add. -Of course not. Men never do. -Men never think that women want a career —some purpose in life—as well OS

themselves. "(Ih, well," 1 conceded, "some women —perhaps. Hut you—you—are surely not thinking '■of a career'; Fait I certainly am. This discussion in the paper " -Oh! that't it," 1 interposed gloomilv. beginning to see daylight in the

lliiiij;. •■ (fas licm'H -ii illuiiiimuinjr—-so iv vcilhw" Sir drew a deep ln-fiuli. iiiul looked far away over my head .it tlic .■IdU'K "I never ihouydit before (if til" p.i-iliililie- in life fur women, dust think what it must lie to ;i woman t i he independent. T„ be n "real <l..clor-n ui-i-nt ,vrilcr-or-or '' She slopped. ',„,| ! „-iu., ! , scaled to choke her. ••or—ivlun V I asked, rather brutally. Where did I come in. ill all this? Cynthia's ii;iil nut been tin- only revelation. ■Yes dr what. (Id oil." I slid. . •■!-rm thinking" -he announced. .\ilh a liitlc :>oul. ''Or 11 (rfi'Kl jii't;-"'-,r mi fii-iuc-r, or a statesman'; There ire so maiiv careers open to women, iivn'l there';" 1 added sarcastically. She at last admitted that tlicii' number was nithcr restricted—at present, -lint thev'll open up as time pies on." -lie concliuled enthusiastically, and waved her hands in .pace, vaguely. I permitted myself to smile in a superior milliner. Tlien a lirillintu idea struck me. "Kven so, to make a career man- work, very hard work, indeed," 1 Slid. The association of the idea of work with Cvnthia was 100 ineoneriious to ho contemplated for a moment. She looked such a, delicate liutterlly as she lav extended on the cushions. '"And I've never known you work at anvthiiu.' hut |ilay," 1 remarked. •'•Tint's lieeaiisc. I've never had anytime lmt plav to do." she rejoined tvinmiiliiinlly. "1 should alter all that •Tm afraid you'd have to. Thcrc'd 1,,, no counlrv 'house partie-, iiojma- " tern- theatricals, no halls, no .Wot, no Henley. 'l'll- strenuous life does noUirtmim (If these pleasures, you know." I took a fre-h cigarette and lighted it, w.itchin- her nil the while to see how she was taking these uiipalatal.le facts. She was silent and pond'-ml a while. Then she suddenly sat up and slinifrged her shoulder.,. "Oh. vou'ie too tiresome lot' anyihini' tiiis afternoon." she cried, spring--liinil.lv out of the hammock. I'm soiTv." I said. "How can I

make amends?' •■<;<> and get mv sunshade out of the Im,U and tell Hi -in to bring tea out )n-iv." 1 ha-leiied to do her bidding. ~,1,1 f id her -tiolliim' in ill" shrubbery on my return. She called me lo !o„k at a 'robin's nc-l we had been watching for some time. "You know." 1 said gravely, handing her the parasol. "I'm not sine. I!ut I don't think that women who go in for guat careers have men to fetch and Tun loi them." No She looked incredulous, "l!ut \\]i) noti"

'■Well, I scarcely know. But perhaps it's because they haven't time fur the —frivolities."

"Oh! But that would he horrid." Sho looked quite pained. "What? Horrid? To be independent. Why, 1 thought you said just now " "Yes, but 1 didn't mean that sort of independence." She gave a little stamp of her foot. "I think men ought always lo do things for women. Don't you?" Mi ■ looked appcalingly at inc.

■Certainly, "i'is the wholy duty of man." I ' paused, then I said, "You propounded a conundrum to me jusi

"I did. sir." She looked at me archly. -Well! I've guessed it. Cynthia." She ilid not re-en' my use of her Christian name—thai was a good sign. I drew a little closer to her. We were quite free from observation by the robin's ii.-t—and .-lolc my arm around her w-iiist.

"If I tell you (lie best career for a woman, will yon promise to adopt it?" "How can 1 promise till 1 know " "It is marriage. Will you try itwit h me:"