A REAL ROMANCE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 60, 28 September 1907, Page 4

A REAL ROMANCE.

''And so you have reu I '.- v::i" ov<t here on matrimony intent, my dear Coral" lira Vanderson nodded. 'Vc," she said, "I have," and added with emphasis: "Why not; I married lor Live, ■foolish child that 1 was, and it was the ■deadest of failures right away from the very beginning, so-—•'' "Now you are going to try and fall in love again." "No, not love," she said quickly, "I've had enough of that silly nonsense, you bet—and now I've come here to marry one of your " "We have no dnkea left," I interrupted—"at least none," I stopped mvself from saying "old enough," and added: "None to spare, you know." "I know," said Cora Vanderson, her slightest of accent* slightly accentuated by her earnestness. "I made rod sure Of that before I started, and I know I what you call your society Bible, Burke, I right through and through." "Have you thought of any particular - person yet on whom you are giiing to I bestow your beauty and incflcntally I

"My dollars," laughed Cora Vamler«HL "Yea, I realise all the possibilities of the inevitable dollar anJ exactly what I can buy over here- : "It seems to buy most thin,; , I mu-t admit," I said with unpatriotic Mticeritv "Yes; but my difficulty w. -. 1 didn't know any of your society j> ;!e," said Mrs Vanderson. "And do you know?" I a^ked. ■She sliook her head. "Xo, but I've got a lovely plan, oh!—such a romantic idea" — and she screwed up her prcttv month. "You think we Americans aren't prepared to buy romance—when there's any to lie' had over here: but I am dead certan we arc very romantic, really, although we have a real ca;.a- j eity for business, too. My romance didn't die out just because i had to diTorce Vanderson, with whom I couldn't get on, and now I'm going to buy a real romance with my Poppa's dollars! Say." •he added suddenly, "am I real nrettv «tnif» v -

"My dear Cora, you are lovelier than ever,'' I said with perfect truth, "but I doubt if love can ever be brought even by unlimited dollars and undeniable loveliness." Tiove," she echoed with much contempt, "I don't want love —besides, it's not to be had, anyway, from what I see of English husbands." I want a title—a ml, ancient", British title, and I mea-i to get it in a real romantic way." "Where are yon going? Say, can't you " tome with me!" Cora Vanderson stopped her motor and called to me one morning as I was going through Dover Street to my club. "I'm going to my club—and you!" Tm going to the workhouse," said Mrs Vanderson. "Can't you come?" "Going to the workhouse," I echoed fat amazement. "Where—why— what workhouse?"

"It's down in the country at Clank, in lisjgdahire," as though it were the most ordinary thing for an American visitor to go to a workhouse. "It's only about seventeen miles or so. Come with me if you're not anything on that you must da. 11l bring you back in time for dmner." Without demur, I stepped into her motor. "This hardly looks like the workhouse," I said as I leant comfortably back in the luxurious and silently glidfag brougham. "Has poppa lost his dolk lan or are you merely going as a sight•eert" "That's it," she said, "I'm what you »• (all over here—district visiting." 1 am afraid you'll find it a place of deadly unintcrest, full of disappointed, elderly, people who hare played and lost . is the game of life; some of them . cheerful and happy, it's true, most of than full of little grievances, and besides—everything is so cut and dried aad ruled and directed in a workhouse that it gives you the impression of mere < machinery. Nurses, and caps, and uniforms everywhere. There's none of your beloved romance in one of our workhouses, I fear." "Now, that's just where I "differ," said lira Vanderson. "Yoa're real bright, f but you don't know about everything." Tm» was a snub so charmingly delivered that I only smiled as I took it meekly m we sped quickly forward in our mission 'of charity.

Apparently Mrs Vanderson was expec- * fed at the workhouse, for we were ushered in with some ceremony and shown over the wards, and through the infirmary, too. Cora has a delightful way with people, and she spoke a few words deftly here and there and gave the sick the flowers she had brought, and then we went on through the men's ward, •nd she crossed over to a tall, still goudlooking man of about fifty-six or sixty, and took a seat beside his as though, indeed, they were already friends. lie looked so out of keeping with his sur- .- Brandings that I asked the nurse to teil i me who he was and how he had come down in the world; but at this moment Car* Vanderson got op, and, coming to ' me, drew me on one side for a moment. -i know all about this old man," she said, "I saw him last neck when 1 came *-» friend brought me here," she added - by way of explanation, "and she told me all his story. He had lost his money through speculating, and he was brought here 51 and starving from bis lodging-. When he is well he will have to be sent Out to begin the fight over again." "A hard fight for any man of that age—*n almost impossible one for a gentleman, as he appears to be," I said. »- "Oh! he's a gentleman right enough/' i aba said, "and now I'm going right over ",, to talk to him," and in her pretty way she went back to the elderly man who lose, his face flushing deeply, whether with shame or pleasure I did not know.

';.'• "He is an Irishman," said the nur=e U we walked on and left them talking '. together; "such a nice man, poor fellow, [ and a real gentleman, too." £»'■ "What is his name?" '■-.> "I don't know—he has never said; * We only call him the Irishman—he's ' pod looking, isn't he? It's very sad to '\ earns down like this before he's even ": ow—» it- "Bob my friend will probably help ~., Um; she is very generous and open- ' hearted, and she seems so interested in . his case." S "Oh yes, slie is, indeed," agreed the If-: Bane, "(or she has been down everyday ' tins week, and I think she has already [.":' awoken about him to the guardians." !r "Really!" I said. "How kind of her. '_. She lives in America, and has heaps of k Bervants and secretaries and odd people •bout her, so I hope she will find him • berth; it would be such a lovely start *" for him." l It would, indeed," said the nurse, i*. "toad it's very kind of her to trouble. tf I only wish there were a few more like

I had' just returned to town on my way to Scotland about three months ]at#r when I suddenly received a note from Mrs Vanderson, who was still in town. "Do come to tea if you are in town by any happy chance," she wrote, Sad if you. have a moment to spare, I want to Introduce my second husbandJin know, I've been married again for nearly ft month, and we're up in town lor two or three days, but we're going •broad next week, I hope." I aoMHdingry went round to the Savoy •t about five o'clock, and found C'ira rVanderson looking radiantly happy. •What bombshells you throw at your friends," I said, laughing. "I seem to bare only been away a few weeks, and I come back to find you are married (gain—you might have let me know Before. You really take my breath »w»y." "It was all so quiet." she said; "just • special license am! the whole thing Bustled through early one morning.' "Who is he!" I asked, and wondered If she had found the title she told me ■he intended to many. The Marquis of Kilkenny," she said. "It's a very old Irish titles and nothing y. to keep it up on, until he found me," and she laughed, "and my dollars.'' 6be was too pretty and charming to jar or be really vulgar, and sh» lookc 1 . to radiantly pleased that I added almn-t iarotontarfly: "Bat there must lie more than a mere -" title to make you look like that. CV.> —I believe you have found your r>manee, too." "Yes— l have." she said franklv. '-he'* ; ■, oteal darling and wor-hip» me a- though -".-;lwere a go<Me«3—here he is.'- «h- adder

- af the door opened—and n tali. g> ol- ' lookjnjr, elderly man faultlessly dre--ed. r- One ltisnretv into th ■■• room. * "My dearest." he -nid. ami Hon ,( op . £- -p»d and looked at me. !"My friend. Mi-< Alirelme." -vd JOtn. VuMteTson. ""W-- Alinghim. may I introduce mv nii-l.e-nd? - ' *;.J(Htew-sl and shor.l. -.-nils. ?"d <vvhHQb-> nraal eommr.nolace o!-,s.-,-.,; .us TafcMil Ihe weather, and then I '-.inert ■_ •f«nt he real nice?" n-ked I'.n a----;--Jn -wwrnipanicd me out to the li ft . p* "!!<• i* very pood dooming." I ■ i''. •■;--. I I't'ftem to know hi- fare: I b-lie-e I gj -fciTif met him out a* some pi'-n." I %■

i moment, and then in a flash it came , back to me. '-Why, Cora," I said, ami t:un I stopped lamely—was it p u= sildo f -ami could ihi, l,e the Irishmau we had ; « : n.'_i.i see that day at the workhouse? | I,Liml ° such th'ntfi. If it was so, how !<«{ v-arth had she found him out, and to an tier stranger to lind her romauee and title as well?

"Do you remember him'" I nodded -Ves," I said, "I remember uow-but how did you ever lind out e »jio he was; did he te,: you his name when you went to see him? It seems > too impossible for anything." "Yes," she said laughing, " he told Die his story, and he thinks that no one else knows it, and he thinks, too, that • I only met him quite by chance, dear old thing." [ •And didn't you?" I asked in much ; astonishment. "Do you mean' to say ; jou knew he was there when you went? 7 " ■■'•■? • "Ves" s ho said. "I heard about him , through a friend of mine, and T went down-I only went to sample him, von know—lmt. well, you see what he 'is." she added blushing with real love and pride. "I went to try and make a romance and found one readv made for me a real lovely one, too. and I'm goin» to take him over to poppa." and before I had recovered my breath she h,d saii good-bye and slipped back acam to their sitting-room. -Rosalie Xeish.