THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 216, 5 September 1908, Page 4

THE STORYTELLER.

'.yliip TUft WRITTEN WORD By Chris Sewell. ' He devoured hia breakfast quickly, Sisdaining-.the pot of marmalade whieh an obsequious landlady had put on the table for him. i This to the observant proclaimed his nationality, and if it didn't, the fact that his hair was parted exactly in tbe middle, and that the socks showing above his shoes were bizarre in ehar- . aeter, revealed it. Between mouthfuis -■of-toast he read assiduously from a small volume held in his right hand. The.volume was bound in red •nd* its pages were in a clear, small, Characteristic handwriting. They were, fa fact, the pages of a young lady's diary. He ,-hau picked it up on the hard high road half-an-hour before, as h$ returned, from an heroic early morn- , ing tussle with, the exceedingly wily -"trout, with which the gurgling stream ; • couple of miles away abounded. '. ' He had looked first for a name and address, out failing to find them, he began to dip into the entries, hoping to. discover a clue. • So far he hadn't discovered it, but he had lighted upon other extraordinarily exciting and absorbing matters, so ■ much eo that he sat there reading utterly Oblivious, in the interest of the thing, that the pages were never intended for >an alien eye. There had been one entry, for example, made three days ago with an indelible pencil. It ran as follows: ' "The American has been fishing again this morning. ' 1 know he is American

now for certain, because he said, 'Gee, that's a bully one' to himself wiien he landed an extra-sized trout. Besides, he doesn't fish English. 1 like his face more and more. He's straight and he's jpi a nice laugh. I wiled him to look at me, but he wouldn't. I wish I knew him—l will know him somehow, as sure as my name is-Ixabelle Norris " i The man at the breakfast-table stopped. Here, at any rate, was a clue—a sufficient clue, too. He must not read another word; it would be clearly dishonourable. He rang the bell. | i "Say, Mrs. Briskett," he said, when the landlady appeared, "is there a Miss Isabelle Norris in your neighbourhood?" I Mrs. Briskett, who was given to grandiloquent language, and uncertainty in the pronunciation thereof, launched forth at once. I "An individual of that cognomen do reside in this locality. Are you acquainted with her, sir?" i " Not yet, but I'm going to be," said the American briskly, i "You'll find that she inhibits Kerry Villas—on the right hand side beyond the post-office, sir." "Thank you, Mrs. Briskett." He ran. upstairs at once and changed bom his fisherman's garb into a calling 'suit, and with characteristic impulsiveness was ringing determinedly ten minutes later at the neat door over the portals of which was inscribed the address Mrs. Briskett had mentioned. . "Miss Isabella Norris at home?" "Yes, feir." The neat maid looked a trifle surprised, but she admitted him at once into a drawing-room as neat as herself. "Mr. Meredith P. Soames, from Washington, would like to speak with her." ' "Yes, sir," said the maid, still more hesitatingly now, for she I scented furniture polish, or perhaps plate polish. "Did you wish to see Miss Xorris about —about anything particular, sir?" ■ Meredith P. Soames smiled the nice

smile described in the diary. "Yes," he said, "I wish to give something into Miss Xorris's own handsWill you tell her that, please I" The maid disappeared, and three or four minutes elapsed. Mr. M. P. Soames spent them in ad justing his already perfectly adjusted tie, and in smoothing his unimprovab'e hair before the glass. He was distinctly nervous and distinctly flurried now that it came to thepoint. The occasion was embarrassing. To have to confess to a young and lovely girl (he was quite sure she must be young and lovely) that you have discovered exactly what she thinks of you, and that those thoughts are flattering is, to say the least of it, disquieting. "Wish I'd mailed it," said Mr. Soames to himself, pulling out the diary and looking at it uncomfortably. "Guess this isn't good form—not British good form anyway—to intrude. Only—onlywell, I'm going back next week, and she wants to know me." There were footfalls in the hall outside. Mr. Soames turned red, then white, then red again. What would she do? Suppose she snubbed him—suppose . t At this point there entered suddenly a very severe—very angular—lady .in a black and white print frock, who certainly was fifty-five, if she wasn't more. Mr. Soames's savoir-faire forsook him entirely—he left her to begin. "Good-morning. I'm afraid 1 haven t the honour—" she said in an inflexible voice, which plainly implied .that the honour wouldn't have been a very overwhelming one. "Pardon," stammered the American. "Guess there's been some error. I wanted to see Miss Isnbolle Xorris." "I am Miss Isabelle Xorris." : Now at this the breath of Mr. Soames was well-nigh shaken from his body. That for intuition—that for romance and preconceived notions! ' He had felt that the Isabelle Xorns of the dairy would be fair and girlish, and oh! many other things besides! And this—this study in the antique nad called his smile sweet—had said she would get to know him, had willed him to look at her, and' had watched his fishing from some nymph-like retreat. Oh, it was absurd, pathetic, laughable, "ill'this Mr. Soames thought, and more The comfort was that in re- ■ electable clothes she obviously did not recognise him again. To hand her the diary and tell her the truth was manifestly impossible. He absolutely had not the courage. He would post it anonymously later on; for the presenile must save the situation somehow.

i A sudden inspiration flew to his aid. To account for his presence he wouli be a person who sold things-something which Miss Korris would not 1m- like-y to buy, and when she had curtly disBiHcd hint-he *■• certain she would curtly dismiss him-he would get away as quickly as possible. What should he sell! What-what? Al>! lus new styW! Miss Norris did not look at all like stylos, but like sharp-pomted, oldfashioned steels. Acting upon this intuition, he smiled the ingratiating smile of the tout. i "You must excuse my calling so early" he began, "but I U you'd'ally use for an article like this. He whipped out the pen, and without giving Miss Norris time to reply. Logan to run breathlessly through its salient points, and to explain its superiority over every other pen on the market. He seized a blank sheet of paper, and D egan to write his name furiously all otct it. He waved the paper before Miss Norris's sedate eyes. To his confusion, instead of ordering iim to leave, Miss Norris's face a,tumed an expression of "iterest "Ah!" said she, "I've heard of ruse things. Now tell me exactlyhow long ihev write without refilling.' She put on her spectacle, and examined the stylo with the air of a con-

The Iskcd innumerable a"-"""*-of which Mr. Soames, who knew rathc. taTo" stylos thm he did of sky-roekeU. ,£ much bothered to answer, Finally, ghe demanded its price. The American had given seven dollars Jor it in New York. It was the only w» he had ever found to suit hrs pcStar handwriting. He quoted ten shilling, in extreme dismay. "It's a ereat saving in work, sai.l Mks Korrif .She took the pen from slowly, asked a dozen moquestions, and finally extracted .pur*. "As it happens/' she said, quite affably -fwant a PP birthday present for a near really useful. No*. t ],i s _» she positively smiled on AH-

Soames. , .. (Mr Soames smiled uneasily back, tin i took the half-sovereign, and left Villas poorer by a particularly sa ..fa - torv stylo-pen. but richer by ten shilling and a lump of cxncriencc i He went home, put the diary in an envelope, meaning to post it in the town that afternoon, and sadly returned ■■< his fishing. ■l,„,r- ,„,»- "This is an unregulated island. »"» plained Mr. Soames lo himself; yon go •Lt meaning to pose as a here, « nmance. and come back liayinir „nld la. onlv pen von can write with. He\ast his flv Artfully upon tl, wa ter and waited, but Ims 'i™'£ ''* , had foi-aken h.m-be Mt ic tl- •< unsettled. The ny ,l™?'! •£<■' '' t . the current to a !■«!' "■''" " ' P , centre of the stream M « J." > '»; and unilerarowth. All at om . took tli- flv. and Mr. Noanies leant for wTrd-his disanpointment for the nonforgotten in the excitement of n ■ o. But he was never destined to laud t at trout., for it was flirt.nor w,th theba , »,,.l -t th- precise moment when be iuiSiave hooked it securelv, th,;e w , a loud crv and a splash, and a girl •, gH«ht form crashed through the busH".

' which fringed the island, and fell heavily into the dark, deep pool sacred n the trout. Mr. Soames would have been angry if he hadn't been too frightened. The pool was seven or eight feet deep—the girl's arms were beating the water in agony. Perish all trout! There was a life to be saved! He threw down his rod and plunged in, and in rather less than two minutes was panting on the bank; while a gild of not more than nineteen sat beside him, wringing water from her golden brown hair and sodden pink froek. "Oh: thank you so much," she said, raising her big blue eyes to his. " I—l slipped. I've got a little wuzzy over on the island, where I read and write. I was chasing a butterfly when 1 fell. Oh! I hope i haven't given vou cold or anything?'' Mr. Soames shook himself like a spaniel.

'• Guess I'm all serene," he said philosophically, •• but what about you ?" " Oh! I never take cold, thank you.'- " Still you ought to be getting, don't you think? Are you domiciled far from here?" "Only at Kerry Villa. What's tin matter*" " Say, you've no relative of the name of Isabelle Norris?" Mr. Soames positively grasped the girl's damp arm in his excitement. " Yes, an aunt—do vou know her 7. But it's my name, too!" ■Mr. Soames sat down on the bank again, and motioned the girl to sit down too. "We'll start in a moment,'' lie said, •'but I'd just like to ask you something, Miss Norris. Tell me," said he, "whether you oiv your aunt dropped a diary—-a red morocco diary—halfway between here and Beverton early this morning?" The girl went scarlet. " I did," she whispered. " Oh, you haven't !"

"I have," said Mr. Soames brightly. " I had to find your name, you know." The girl got up and began to walk quickly. "1 think it was very wrong of you," she said—''dishonourable " " I'm very penitent," said Mr. Soames, walking after her. "Where is it?" she asked, not deigning to look round, but holding out her hand. "1 took it this morning to yoar aunt "

The girl stopped and regarded him with horrified eyes. "Oh! you didn't, you didn't! She'll be furious! She " "She won't. She's real affable about you. Besides, I didn't give it to her. It's your birthday soon, isn't it ? You're going to get a topping present, Miss Norris—you see!" "What do you mean?" she asked, relief and bewilderment struggling in her voice. "See here, may I call to-morrow and explain things? We ought not to wait about now." "Aunt won't let you in—she hates young men." "Still, in common gratitude—l saved your life," observed Mr. Soames artfully. Miss Xorris smiled. "So vou did I'd forgotten—she's very just—well, I'll try her, and we'll try. Here's the garden gate, and 1 don't even know your name. " Soames—Meredith P. Soames, of New York City. Good-bye, Miss Norris!" "Good-bye!" she said.

The next morning Mr. Soames duly presented himself. He was received h'v Isaftelle Xorris the elder. She was grateful, but not very gracious. •'I have to thank you for your presence of mind and kindness, Jlr. Soames," she said with dignity. ''l should like to mark my sense of what you have done in some way," hesitated Miss Xorris. "I—l will take half a dozen of your excellent pens, and try and prevail on my friends to purchase "

"Good gracious!" said Mr. Soames—the pen episode had slipped his memory —" that is—llm ajfraid I—l—couldn't undertake to supply such a 'demand.''. " But surely as an agent for tha firm " Miss Xorris hesitated. ''That was fun," said Mr. Soames, with a sudden daring. Miss Xorris drew herself up till she seemed to be in danger of cracking. "Fun?" she said, in a very ominous voice. "Wal," said Mr. Soames desperately. " I really came to interview your niece, and being a stranger I didn't like to say so when you appeared. I—l—if it's not too rapid for this continent. Miss Xorris, I should like an opportunity of knowing your niece beyond that afforded by hauling her out of a river hole. I—l—don't need to hawk pens, thank goodness; my father's Selway Soames; you'"e heard of him, likely!"

Miss Norris had. Selway Sonnies and his millions received frequent notice in society papers. Her manner changed perceptibly. "' i —this is all very extraordinary," she said, "but if what you say is true—ami you look straightforward—there can lie no objection to your calling on llelle occasionally." "Not much ' occasionally ' about H: my time is short," said Mr. Soanic-, with the smile aforesaid. i " 1 go back to America next week. See here, .Miss Norris, you cable my father to-nighf - on receipt of return cable guaranteeing my respectability 1 come in every day till I sail in a week's time. Then \i your niece's sentiments towards me at all resemble mine towards her, 1 go back to America engaged—how's that?"' Miss Norris was opening her mouth to reply how it was, when Isabelle eamt in. Mr. Ssames rose, and greeted her gravely. "Your aunt and I have been talking some, Miss Isabelle," he said. "I'll leave her to fix matters with you, and run around to-morrow morning for the result. My dad lives in Madison Avenue', Miss Norris—-he's in ' Who's' Who,' because he's got a little place in London as well. 'Dives, New York," is sufficient for cabling purposes—goodday!" He shook hands with both, and Isabelle the younger went with him to the hall.

At the door he drew a red morocco book from his pocket, and put it into her hand. " Permit me to restore your property," he said. " I'm sorry I read it, you know —or I ought to be—but anyhow I confessed. \ou'll forgive me, won't you?" "If you'll forgive me," she said. "Miss Isabelle, what is there to forgive?" Meredith Soames' eyes were very eloquent. • [— I can swim," murmured Isabelle. He beamed at her radiantly—-under-standing was in every line of his face. "Then that tumble was merely by way of keeping your word about geltin" to know me, eh?" '• Yes." "Wal, it was great, Miss Isabelle—great. 1 want to see your island anl the wuzzy where you used to watch me fish—may 1?" " I don't suppose iwe shall ever meet again," she answered dismally. "Air.it will never " "I don't know," said' Mr. Soames, looking unfathomable; "you wait and

*ce. v- • And wait thev did. Only Miss Noma tin' elder (lid not trouble to fable to millionaire* of fathers, but took Meredith's honest eyes and disannul;; smile on trust. And at the end of the week he boarded the Adriatic looking so pleased with himself and the world in general, that sea-sick voyagers, remarking his radiance, turned greener than even the Atlantic warranted with envy. Isabella Soames always writes her diaries wi-h a special stvlographic pen. She says she writes more clearly with it than any L other.