THREE MEN-AND GERTRUDE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 93, 15 May 1909, Page 4

THREE MEN-AND GERTRUDE.

If Miss Gertrude Gillespie had not I possessed ou e of the most appealing and gentle natures in the world, not to mention Wuu eyes with entangling lashes, it is doubtful whether three sensible young men who have regarded her in the light of a- problem. Miss Gillespie was an orphan, living in private apartments'—an attic with a sloping roof and the roof of what was known as th e "drawing-room"—in the dullest of dull streets in Pimlico, She was a typist and shorthand-writer, and two of the aforesaid young men, Arthur Palgrave and George Frederick Jones, met her when she. was employed at Oilderstein's, Limited, a wholesale printing firm.

It was Arthur Palgrave who propounded the problem of what to do with Gertrude to his journalist friend, Frank Stoddard.

"Miss Gillespie is one of the most charming girls I've ever met," lie explained. "X.obody to take care of her—amazingly simple and unsophisticated—she doesn't seem to have any women friends, and she's lost her job at Gilderstein's."

"How was that?" asked Stoddard. "Oh, they took on half-a-dozen girls for the Christmas work, and they've nil got the sack. Business is awfully bad," answered Palgrave. "Rotten! Nothing dpin'," added Jones.

"]s she entirely self-dependent?" asked (Stoddard.

•'Absolutely/' said Palgrave. "She only got twelve and six a week at Gil-di-rstein's, but 1 never heard her complain. "Tips from relations—what?" said Jones.

"All .her relations' are dead," answered Palgrave. "Why are yon so interested in this pan ! cular girl?'' asked Stoddard, pointedly. Pf.H'Hivc smiled, and honestly believed that his answer was the truth. "Only friendliness—compassion—I'm sorry for the poor little thing. She isn't' fitted for the struggle ot life. I've seen her eyes fill with tears « dozen times a day." "My dear chap, she typed in my room for a week." interrupted Jones', "and she wept nearly the whole time." "I wish I could tell you what to do with the young woman, Arthur," said Stoddard, "but I know there isn't any opening at our office. Can't she change licr profession? Wv're overrun with typists. Let her try try hospital nursing—or "

"Salome dancin'," suggested Jones.' Palgrfive's kind face looked grave and troubled. He was inclined to take all tilings in a- serious spirit. Stoddard. who was shrewd and suspicious, winked at Jones. "I wish you would introduce me, to Miss Gillespie. Arthur.'' he said, "I am sure she must he a vury interesting .girt"

.So Ortrud e he'd a reception, the following Sunday, at her lodging-house. A small servant admitted the throe young men to the "drawing-room." telling them sh„ would be "down dreckly." The room was dark and gloomy; rain-Ilecked windows hidden by dingy curtains; springlesfi arm-chairs', a despondent little fire, raked into one corner of the grate; a bunc)i of faded flowers in a vase of stale water.

"Cheerful!" observed Stoddard, glancing about him. "Every home comfort," added Jones. "Il'oor little girl!" murmured the sympathetic l'algrave.

When Gertrude entered she looked like a pale, but fresh, flower. She was a slight girl of middle height, with a quantity of soft, fluffy hair—amber-colored hair. Jier one beauty—and very blue eyes shaded by long lashes. Her well-worn dress was neat and short, with a cheap, but dainty, little frill round the neck. Directly he looked at her Stoddard understood hi* friend's feeling of responsibility. For such a girl to be entirely self-dependent, alone in the world, filled him with unreasonable annoyance. He felt that she was injured—he didn't know by whom—and he instantly began to meditate over Palgrave's question—"What can we do with .her?"

Gertrude received her guests with pretty self-possession. If she showed any preference at all, it was for the mixture of slang and extravagance which Jones' called conversation, but she listened to Stoddard on polities and Palgrave on literature with flatteri-.ig complacence. They talked frankly about iher prospects. I "I mil living on iny capital, seven pounds in the Post' Ollice Savings Bank," said Gertrude.

"Can't you go in for making hats, or dresses, or something or that sort?" asked her newest friend.

"Get yiiiirxi-ir lost for a wool; or two and then go on the music-halls'." sngjfcstpd Jones.

"I feel so .helpless."' said Gertrude. "'•There is no demand for this work I love, the work 1 could do." "That is-— V asked Palgrave. "Oh, taking en re of a home, Irving to make people happy—l can't quite explain." | "Domestic racket?"' said Jones.

His words jarred on the two other young men. Her frank speech, with its unconscious appeal for an ordinary, sheltered life of love and marriage, touched them both. "Not domestic racket."' »'aid Oertrude. repeating the words gravely, "domestic peace and helpfulness—sewing and singing, and quiet joys."

"Don't you forget cookin'!" exclaimed the hopeless Jones. "That's the pick of household virtues."

Both Pnlgrave and Stoddard decided.

as they walked home that night, not to encourage George Frederick .Tones to visit Miss Gillespie. He did not appreciate her. and it was very evident to their sensitive eves that he only bored her.

Stoddard, a week after their first meeting, put Gertrude into a situation. One of his friends consented to make room for her in his olliee. Palgrave felt

a pang of jealousy at the journalist's good fortune ill serving her, but Jones expressed himself as "thundering glad." Oertrude. finding her new employer elderly and irritable, successfully struggled with—to quote Jones again—the tearful .habit, and worked hard and coiiseientious'lv. i "At last 1 feel independent, thanks to

you!" she said, more .than once, to young Stoddard. lie liecame u frequent visitor, even more frequent than Arthur Palgrave, but they rivalled each other.in devising •little pleasures to add color to the grey life of the lonely girl. She, was very grateful, and a good listener. Both the young men talked well, and if Palgrave firmly believed that Miss Gillespie was intensely interested in art, literature, and (he drama—his favorite topics'—his friend was equally certain that she was absorbed in politics.

At the end of a month Stoddard began to realise that all the happiness of his days depended on Gertrude. Palgrave had long been conscious of the same thing. Perhaps there was a touch of patronage in both cases, she was so very meek and so very teachable. "When I can afford it. I will marrv Gertrude." thought Stoddard, for lie was a practical man with no oldfashioned faith in love and a cottaw. "I think I shall ask Gertrude to wait for mo," thought Palgrave. with a confidence which was the outcome of her evident willingness to accept him.

A* for George Frederick Junes—he had apparently drifted out, of their lives.

The,- never met him at Miss Gillespie's lodgings, and agreed that she had grasped the fact of his inferiority. due day. during the coldest week of freezing February. Arthur Palgrave made his wav to the dear, dreary street in Pimlieo. A light fog had been hanging, like a dripping veil, over London

since Hi,- early morning. It threatened to drop anil roll into yellow denseness

as night came oil

The young man consoled himself durinar the cold tininp through endless streets liy Hie (bought, of Ccrlrudc's pleasure itiid gratitude, lie was siirnriscd lo .hear, when he reached the house, that Miss' Cillospie was not at home. Xo! }lr. Stoddard had not called fur her. Thai was a relief. She was not with him.

As I'algrnve turned awav from the house, annoyed and disappointed, the small servant spoke again. '■' Miss (lillespicV not com in* hack. - ' she said. "Not coiniiijr hack!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean?" "Xo. she's, "ol." declared (lie small servniit. "She's given notice to the mis'sus. and we think she's took Jiers-lf nil?' '•Took herself off—where?" said Palgrave, astounded into repealing the words.

I "Took 'er '(ink!" cxnlaiuod the girl. 1 Pahrrnve save th„ landla.lv. Tt was Iriic thni Mi,.s (iiHesnie had given " "■eek's Motiec and paid her rent, liitt (he small servants remarks were in the nature of rumor. Hiss Oillespie was expected to return tiny minute.

He waited, pacing backwards and forwards in the "drawing-room." It was past seven o'clock. llis vexation changed to anxiety. lie began to fear that Gertrude had lost her way.

A peal at the bell at twenty minutes past the Jiour—Palgrave kept on looking at his watch—made him hurry into the passage. Before th e servant had started upstairs from the kitchen he had thrown open the street door and effusively greeted—-Stoddard. The two friends, whose cordiality had cooled of late, discussed the situation with some warmth. They each resented the other's' anxiety. "1 don't mind telling you, Arthur, that Aliss Gillespie is—well, how can 1 put it?—not formally engaged to me, | but "

"Dear old Frank! I'm so sorry, but how on earth can any man be so selfdeceived?" interrupted Palgrave, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"What right Jiave you to say that?" cried Stoddard, shaking him off.

Palgrave smiled disagreeably. "You had better ask Gertrude!" he answered, "lint where is Gertrude?'' "I mean to find out." "So do 1!"

They left the house together. The dripping veil of fog hud changed into a heave, yellow ochre blanket.

"l" shall go to her office first," said Stoddard, glaring at his friend. "Of course, yon arc at liberty to walk in that direction with me, if you choose." was the cool reply. They did not waste any more words. The oilice where Gertrude was •.•mployed was closed, anil the caretaker imnbl e to fell them anything about her. "You had better go home. Arthur!" /said Stoddard .siulitculyi, "You took played out." "What about yourself?" "N'aturally I stall continue the search."

"Confound your cheek! So shall I." They walked on for a few minutes, lost in thought. Then Stoddard spoke. "We had better work together, and when we meet Gertrude—when we are face to face—she sfliall choose between ns. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" It was' easy enough to settle to work together, but what was actually to be done was a more difficult matter. Stoddard suggested "police." Palgrave gloomily muttered the word "hospitals." They ultimately returned to Gertrude's lodgings, in the vain hope that she might have returned. Then they expended a great deal of energy in finding their way to the private house of her employer. He had retired to rest, but the young men succeeded in rousing him—and most of the other people living in the street—but he had no advice or consolation to offer them.

Stoddard, who had made a speciality of inquests during his early reporting days, was' possessed with the dread that (Icrtrudc had fallen into the river in the fog. Palgrave. who was rapidly developing a violent cold, favored the idea of a loss of memory.

.Slowly the long, cold, foggy night passed by. A drizzling rain heralded dawn. The outline of the houses began to loom through the dank air. There was the occasional rattle of an early milk-cart, or the trip-clip-clop of a late hansom.

At five o'clock in the morning, alter walking about all night, the faithful, depressed lovers of Gertrude took their breakfast at a col Tee-stall. Their collars were turned up to their ears; their faces were grimy; Stoddard was smoking the last of a cherished packet of cigarettes, and Palgrave's cold had reached the stage when he could only croak.

"You'd better come in to my place and get a .deep.'' .said the former, sipping the hot coffee gratefully. "Thanks, old man!" said Palgrave.

"I shall look for her in earnest tomorrow," continued the undaunted Stoddard. "All London shall know she has vanished."

ill is companion sneezed, and nodded his approval. They linked arms—drawn together in their mutual misery and fatigue—and slowly tramped away through the lifting fog to Stoddard's lodgings.

It was late in tilie afternoon of tho following day when th c evening newspapers were Haunting the "Extraordinary Disappcaranee of a London Girl." that the two young men.' ariu-in-avni, and haggard after their night h the fog. met with their old, half-forgotten friend George Frederick Jones. Jones, for once in his life, was angry and indignant and Jones was not alone.

"Are o ither of you fellows responsible for this tomfoolery';" lie exclaimed, flourishing the newspaper in thi'ir fares. Stoddard and Palgravc stared at his companion. It was' <lertrude.

Are. you safe';" gasped Stoddard.

"What does it mean'/" croaked Pillgrave. "It means that we were married yesterday morning.'' said George Frederick •lones: ''but we didn't want to advertise it to all our friends.''

"We have been engaged for months and months." added Gertrude, and she wailed, with a sweet smile, to be congratulated—Peggy Welding, in M.A.P.