THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 303, 1 February 1910, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER.

MR. AND MRS. DARCY. -Mi'. James Darcy, known to h'w friends as "Jiiumy," hoail.Uiii# for a moment outside the clour of his Hat in I'ih'Nt.". iii' \v;N ol>vioi;.lv wry 11 -rvoils as ho glanced at his coat-sleeve, and an exclamation of something like fright, escaped liiwi as lie brushed away a long, line hair of golden hue. For M.iv. Da rev's hair was black. There was really no need for the alarm that Jimmy had experienced for the moment, for his wife was away 011 a visit to her ''people,'-' and Wardle. Jimmy's "man." had once been valet to a member of the Smart Set. so tlmt. the presence of a golden hair on his master's sleeve was not likely lo appear to him as a particularly singular phenomenon. !>lll Jimmy was at the moment in liie position of the guilty man who s'uspec'ts | that everybody he meets is about to fuul him out, and lie did not know from which quarter the Xemesis he feared might suddenly come upon him. Having satisfied himself that there was nothing else in his appearance that might betray him. even to the lvore or less faithful Wardle, he went into the flat, called for a whisky-and-soda, flung him- : self into a lounge chair, aad lit a cigarette. People *'aid that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy wore an ideal couple. As a rule they were always together, and Darcy seemed to have contracted the plra-in:; habit i: waiting on his wife hand and foot on all occasions. From Mrs. Da.rev's point of view, (he marriage had undoubtedly been a happy one, and it was probably | her own version of the state of affairs that had led the friends of the family to believe that Jimmy must be the happiest man alive.

Whereas, as' is well known, there avo two sides to every question, though many worthy people absolutely decline to concur in this claim. Jimmy's own opinion was that since his marriage he hud led a dog's life—a rather extreme view of the situation, no doubt. If his wife decided to go out, she communicated her wishes to him and he accompanied her. If she wished to remain at home she told him so, and lie knew he was expected to remain with her. K he happened to mention the fact that lie was going out, she wanted to know whither, and if he came back later than had been expected, he felt in some way bound to account for every moment of his time during his absence from home. And yet there was nothing domineering about. Mrs. Darcy. She was a little laughing woman wlio seemed to take her happiness in life as a thing for granted, and if sorrow had come to her, s'lie would probably not have recognised it. and would have passed it by in the lush. No one bad ever heard iier command Jiromv to do anything: he had never heard her do so himself. All that he knew was that when she wanted n thing done, he always did it without protest to anyone but himself.

The explanation of the position is, of course, simple enough. Mrs. Darc-y was a woman born to command; Jimmy was a man born to obey. Nature veryoften turn- 1 out her children with congenital gifts of the kind, and it is probably through haste or oversight that she sometimes makes the lamentable error of giving the commanding qualities to the wrong sex.

dimmy had for a long time been eou\inoed that the situation was becoming intolerable. Often and often, when his wife had been momentarily absent from liis side, he had resolved to put an end to thw stale of tyranny once and for all. Jle would merely say lie was (joins' out; and if his wife should enquire further particulars, he would gently, but uilh absolute firmness, decline to supply them. And if his wife wanted to know when he might be expected home he v. oitld say that lie hadn't the faintest idea, and that, if she didn't want to sH up. she must go to bed. More than onee be had gone out into the hall and had taken his hat from the rack and rehearsed the speech that was to make him master in his own house; and then, .just at that moment, Mrs. Darcv would come along with her cheery smile and would want to know where he was gnmg. And he would reply that if she didn t mind he was going round to the Vlub for a little while, and would be f'tire to be home not later than seven. ! Wllpn I»3 wife was not near 'him 'Jimmy could be bold and far-seein«—a (daring spirit fit for great and bold enterprises. At least, that is what he 'had always told himself. And now his ■wife would be away from him at least another week. lie would have accompanied her to her "people" but for t h> tact that his presence was required in town on n business matter ' that the 'family solicitor was dealing with; tind 'he had enjoyed the ten days of freedom that had already been vouchsafed liim, 'to the fullest extent. A man in the position of Jimmy Darcv has usually no one to whom he can confide the story of his wrongs. At the tlub one does not speak of such things, 'and ows other friends would be apt to regard the situation as a little ridiculous. and to express themselves accordingly. Besides, it is only the strong man who has the courage to confess to failure; and Jimmy, his own private opinion of himself to the contrary notwithstanding, was not a strong man. The proof of it was that lie found liitf 'only sympathiser among the weak, 'wlirwe sympathy is, itself, a sign of decadence. ' Among their closest friends Mr. and

ill's. Darcy numbered Mr. Meyton and bis wife, ilv. Meyton was not a m,M after Jhnmv's own heart at all. He was one of those rough, domineering men who care for nothing but their hoiv-.-s and their dinner. Darey had known Meyton to come home tired after an evening out. and call to his wite to get him a whUkv-and-soda. just for all the world as if he had been speaking to one of the servants, and if the mixture wa» not nicely made Mrs. Meyton was bluntly—very bluntly— informed of the fact. Jimmy did not like Meyton. although now and again he could not help wishing he had some of Meyton s wav i.i preserving the authority of the master of the liou-'e.

With llvs. Meyton. on the contrary. Jimmy felt himself in sonic sympathy. Some!ime> thi'v lift for ;i nnvdca! ('veiling. for Mr. Meyton, like any unpleasant people, could sing beautifully. Ami nothing annoyed Jimmy more than to l>e told abruptly bv his wife to leave off whispering to ill's. Movton and to come and turn over the music. It made him look so small in the eyes nf all concerned, and especially in the eyes' of Mrs. Mcyton. Such gentle, sympathetic eyes as they were. too. The afternoon of the day after his wife's departure, Jimmy found himself in llond-street. lie usually took his wife there in the afternoon because they met people, and ill's. Meyton. when she was not paying or receiving calls, usually went, there for her afternoon tea, her husband being a. City merchant, and lacking, therefore, the surplus of leisure that fortune had bestowed on Jimmy. And almost the 'first person that Jimmy met in Honil--;!reet that afternoon had been Mrs. Mevton. It must have been mental telepathy or something, an added sign of the great sympathy that clearly existed between them. For Mrs. Meyton knew that Mrs. Da rev was out. of town, and that if s'lie met Jimmy he would be free from encumbrance, as they say in the advertisements: while Jimmy was well aware that it was not his habit to go to Bondstreet by himself, as lie had nothing to take him there. And yet they met as if they had both expected to see each other, and when Jimmy suggested tea in a new shop he had discovered on the other side of Piccadilly, Mrs. Meyton jumped at the idea as if she had been expecting that, too. Every afternoon since then Jimmy and Mrs. Meyton had met in Bondstreet, and every afternoon had increased their belief that they had been destined for each other. Mrs. Meyton spoke of her husband's' lack of sympathy, and .Jimmy told of his wife's exasperating tyranny. After a week of such an exchange of confidences it was only natural that their horizon should suddenly widen. It is wonderful how wide the horizon becomes when you have suddenly swept away the mountains of convention that have hitherto obscured its illimitable srtveep. Jimmy, growing bolder than ever by the continued absence of his wife, had quite risen to his ideal of the strong man. He showed Mrs. Meyton that across the horizon lay a new world for both of them, a land none the less lovely .because it is the .bright land of dreams. There they would find happiness' together, and, having lost all their friends by the rash act they contemplated, would have more leisure to devote to loving each other. That was the afternoon on which Jimmy had returned to his flat with a gohlc-n hair on his sleeve, Mrs. Meyton s hair being of the hue in question.

Seated ill his chair, Jimmy pulled I furiously at his cigarette and drank ; recklessly large draughts' of whisky-aml-soda. Everything had been arranged. The die was cast. Instead of joining' lii,s wife at Tunbrid'ge Wells, Jimmy would be escorting Urg, Meyton to a long-desired career of perfect happiness in another direction. The very thought of it. made Jimmy feel defiant. Every day. at his wife's wish, he had written to her, enclosing s'ueh letters as had come for her to her town address; today, however, lie resolved he would not write as usual. I-Te would merely enclosi' her letters without comment. Slit* would have to draw her own conclusions, and if she came back to see winhe did not answer her letters she would find that her prisoner had broken down the bars, of his' gilded cage, and had flown—with another mate.

One thing only was wanted to com- j plcte the arrangements. Mrs. Meyton j could not leave the house in the morn- ! im; before her husband had gone to the I Citv. She would have to find out at ' what, hour she would he at liberty, and ' she had promised to send a note round j to Jimmy ns soon as she should be in a position to give him the information he required. Jimmy was smoking his tenth cigar- i ette when Wardle brought him a delicate note on a tray. He read it while the man waited for all answer. It was very brief, and ran as follows: "Dearest, I have arranged everything. I will be at the bookstall at Charing Cross to-morrow at twelve. Eternaff affection from Dolly." I "There is no answer," said Jimmy to j his man. "Get me another whisky-and-soda. And then, after a pause, he added, "1 want you to pack my things, I'm going to—er—Tunbridge Wells' in the morning for a long stay." As soon as Wardle had gone, Jimmy took another sip from his glass and felt bolder and braver than ever. Indeed, at first the wild thought had come ta him that he would write to his wife after all. He would tell her that he had had about enough of her petty tyranny, and was going to seek for hap ■piness in future elsewhere. But even the courage that came from his glass 1

was not equal to such an ordeal, and he contented himself with merely addressing the large envelope that was k. contain the half-dozen letlers or so that had come lor his wife during the day. Thc.i he went out and posted the letter himself, telling Wardle that he slibuhl dine at liia club. Jimmy was at the bookstall at eleven o'dock on the following morning, in a fever of impatience lest ill's, Meyton should arrive before her time, lie hail made up his mind that be and .Mrs. .Meyton should take the afternoon train to Paris, as it is usual when one is going to break the conventions hopelessly to select a foreign country foT the purpose. It is generally understood that foreigners don't think any the worse of you for it, as they invariably lead irregular lives themselves. Jimmy stood by his luggage at the extreme end of the bookstall, where a porter had placed it at his request, and counted the minutes. Then lie bought a paper and tried to interest himself m the news, but that morning the people who write for the papers seemed Lo have got their literary style more mixed up than ever, and all that Jimmy could make out was that the Czar of All the lUissias had just broken the llyingniachine record in France, and that the suH'ragettes had got barricades in the main thoroughfares, and had declared a .Republic. As the hands of the clock drew nearer to twelve, his excitement became quite painful, and lie had to repeatedly wipe his forehead with his handkerchief to keep it dry. I All at once a porter tapped him on the arm.

"Beg pardon, sir," said the man, ".but arc you Mr. DarcyV" And as Jimmy nodded as'sent the man gave him a note, adding: "Young lady come up to me just now and asked me to give you this."

Jimmy looked at the note. It wag addressed to liini in Mrs. iloyton's handwriting.

'•W-where is the lady?" he gasped, looking round. ''She hurried away in a taxi directly

she had pointed you out to me, sir," replied the porter. 'Tin only a poor man, sir, and " Jimmy put his hand in his pocket and snatched out lialf-a-cro\vn with which he .stopped the poor man's' speech, as lie stood bnck hi the shadow to read the note. It l'ani "Dear Mr. Biii'ey,'—l've been thinking' it over all night, aiid i daren't do it. Please forgive me. I daren't. I daren't. Yours truly, D. MEYTON." Jimmy read the note again and then he looked ruefully at his luggage. He would have to take it back to Chelsea and explain to Wade that he had found after all that business required that he should remain in town. He was just about to beckon a porter, when who should come bustling up but —Mrs. Darcy. She was, asi usual, all smiles, and the kiss she gave him reminded him of the time when they were courting, only more so.

"Y-you—you. here, Milly?" he stammered. And then, as his presence of mind returned with a pleasing and surprising readiness, he added: "I was—just coming down to Tunbridge Wells---to join you—there. Good thing—l met you. What?"

"Of cours'e it is, you old silly." she replied, taking his arm. "Now we can get. back home. I thought I> should come on you there by surprise, but, you see. yon have found 1110 too soon. Ck>t a cab, there's 0. good hov. and see that, mv luggage is put 011 it. And then look after vour own."

j On the way back to Chelsea Mrs. 1 Barcv chatted merrily. She could not. ! conceal her pleasure at having met j Jimmy before he had started for TunI bridge, telling him she knew how dis- ! pointed he would have been if he had ! got there and found she had already j started for home. She explained her rei turn by faying that she had missed him j so much, and wanted to see him again. And Jimmy could not disguise from himself the fact that Mrs. Mey ton's second letter had not been so great a disappointment after all. In fact, Jimmy was genuinely pleased to have his wife back again t.o look after him. He had a feeling that he was beginning to need some sort or supervision. And in her presence the strange feeling that ho must hide nothing from her came back before he had been with her again half an hour. Indeed, as she was reposing on a chair in the dining-room after her long journey, the irresistible impulse, tame 10 him to tell her of the folly lie had almost committed. He fought against it for some time, but surrendered helplessly at last. "Millie," he s'aid, as he sat opposite lier, staring penitently at the pattern of the carpet, "I didn't tell you the truth just now when I said I was on my way to Tunbridge." "I knew that perfectly well, you old silly," she replied without even a suspicion of reproach in her tone. "Wnen you sent me my letters yesterday you i enclosed Dolly's as well. That's what brought me home so quickly. You're | not smart enough to engineer an elopement, Jimmy. Run and get my slippers, there's a good boy, and then come and tell me what put such a thing into your head." And Jimmy, delighted to Jind himself under orders once again, hurried away 'for the slippers.—By Arnold Goldsworthy in M.A.P.