THE GOD OF LOVE

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 213, 29 August 1908, Page 3

THE GOD OF LOVE

" Talking of love—" said Kennard. " I wasn't," Miss Van Dubois cut in hastily. "I'm aware of it," Kennard sighed. "You "weren't talking of it, but you were looking at the third ugliest statue to the right with an expression which would have suggested it to anyone who wasn't a stick or a stone. I'm not usually considered either myself," he added, thoughtfully. "What were you going to say about love?" Miss Van Dubois asked in a mollified tone. "The third ugliest statue to tlie right," said Kennard, gazing dreamily at the white line of figures against the thick box-hedge, " is a statue of Cupid." "It isn't so very ugly," said Miss Van Dubois, critically, "at a distance." "That's the only way I've ever seen it," Kennard asserted—"at least, until quite recently." She tapped the marble of the balustrade with her fan, and the distant Cupid with faintly-amused eyes. "You must be dreadfully poor," she said at last. "Oh, we're all on our last legs," Kennard admitted, with gloomy triumph. " You mightn't think it to look at us, but we are. At present we are just managing to keep up appearances, but that's all." The lilt of a waltz came softly from / the windows of the great ball-room, and Miss Van Dubois laughed. ."You're managing it very well—and no one would think it to look at you," she told him. "We frolic on the edge of destruction," said Kennard darkly. " It's been a habit of our family ever since our famous ancestor, Bill Kennard, danced on the scaffold." "Poor dear!" Miss Van Dubois said pityingly. "What had he done?" "Sheep-stealing," Kennard replied with brevity. ■There was a moment's silence. Miss Van Dubois looked disappointed. "Talking of love—" began Kennard again. "We weren't talking of love," Miss Van Dubois said tartly. " We were discussing the financial situation of your family." " It's the same thing," said Kennard. " They're both mixed up. You can't many on nothing a year, paid quarterly.'' "1 never said ) could," Miss Van : Dubois declared. "Were we talking of ' marrying?" ->, They both looked at the statue for < a moment. : " Talking of—" Kennard recommenced '■ suddenly. s "Good gracious!" Miss Van Dubois I cried. "Can't you talk of something i else?" i "Not when I'm with you," said Ken- ' nard, with meaning. 1 Miss Van Dubois assumed a pretty i air of resignation. < "Then do go on and get it ovur. i Talking of love—" i "I was about to remark, when you < interrupted me," Kennard said severely, ' " that the ancients conceived of love as i the least of all the gods." i "Oh, but why?" i "You'd better look at the size of 1 the statue," Kennard told her. t She looked. Apparently the eight ' I amused her. " It's rather a nice size, I think," she < declared. " They must also have imagined him," '. said Kennard, " as the poorest of the < gods." i £ cV'jDear me! Why?'? queried Miss Van Dubois. "Look at his clothes," said Kennard, grimly. "I can't," protested Miss Van Dubois —with truth. "But ho has quite an expensive-looking bow and quiver," she , added. "And, besides, gods don't go in much for clothes." "Good reason why," said Kennard. " You couldn't expect even a first-class god to feel like the real thing with a tailor's bill on his conscience, could you?" "Oh—that's why you—" Miss Van Dubois stopped, and endeavoured to conceal an air of illumination. "' Talking of—the least of the gods?" she re- ' minded, him. "You will also observe," Kennard pointed out, "that he is extremely young. Youth, in his case, is symbolical. Children of his age are ignorant and greedy and unscrupulous. They eat too much, They put their lingers into other people's " He paused in momentary confusion. A gleam of mischief showed in Mrs. Van Dubois eyes. "Poor little things—they're so young," she pleaded. "You wouldn't have them cultivate the senile virtue at their age? . . And you have behaved so beautifully, too." He was silent. Miss Van Dubois, with a suspiciously calm face, regarded the statue of Cupid. Something seemed to have gone wrong with it, for she suddenly frowned. " It's clearly your duty to your family to set aside your own personal feelings " "That's what 1 said," put in Kennard. " And marry her," concluded Miss Van Dubois remorselessly. "But in order to marry her," Kennard pointed out, " f shall have to propose to her—you'll admit that, I sup- ; pose ?" "It's certainly usual," Miss Van Di\- ' bois admitted, with the ghost of a ! smile. "And." said Kennard, "1 shall run • the risk of being considered a fortune- , hunter." "By whom?'' said Miss \ an Dubois ; sharply. >■ The—the heiress," Kennard suggesti "]f she's the most beautiful person 1 on earth, as you said just now," Miss Van Dubois remarked, "it's barely posi sible that she might be induced to > imagine that she isn't absolutely re 1 pulsive to von. In short, you might pcr- - suade her to believe that you were, in love with her." • " 1 should have to do something more difficult than thai," Kennard returned. - -I should have to persuade her to be--1 lieve that she was in love with me.' Miss Van Dubois slowly furled and unfurled her fan. 1 ■• I've heard it said." -he ventured, D "thai a woman will believe anything she's told—when the right man telis >■ it to her." f "You're a mine of wisdom and a fountain of truth." Kennard told her, • will, enthusiasm. "Perhaps you could i I let me know another thing." .' "Anything I Jtn, I'm sure," murmured Mi--s Van Dubois politely. il " Perhaps von could give me the ghost n of a hint as' to—as to tho right mac ?''

Miss Van Dubois examined her fan with sudden interest. "Oh, the right man—well, I've heard he's by wav of being a very humbleminded person," she said. " He's afraid of being considered a fortune-hunter, and I have it on his own authority that he considers love—the least of all the gods."