THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 382, 6 May 1910, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER.

THE GOLDEN EGGS. ] "My dear Colonel, are you quite Wind? I call it positively disgraceful!'' "She seems rather a nice girl, too," •mused the Colonel reflectively. "Nice! I say she's not even decent. Do you think I'm not capable of judging';" The Colonel raised his hands in protest. "Of course not. Still, you're a woman, and she's one—a jolly pretty one!" "Disregard my opinion if you choose. Mv voice is only one of many." "A broad of 'hens made more clucking that a single Of course not, Miss Prism, I don't ,for one moment intend to insinuate that " "Of course not." returned Miss Prism frigidly. "However, as you seem so tactful with your tongue, yon might put it to better uses. Now, listen to me—these arc facts. I happen to have made some notes as matters -progressed. It is my invariable rule in such eases." She drew from he? reticule an elegant-ly-bound -book. ' "-Now. where are we? Church—that's in the C's, of course. Ah! here we are: Church, Phyllis—arrived 15th; 'pretty, but ' Ah, that's of no importance. 'Men seem strangely attracted 'by her. Curious how ' "Now >we have it! John Trant has fallen into her snare. She is luring him on. 'July 6th. chocolates and flowers.'- Chocolates and flowers follow for several days,, but 'July I 10th. 2-old bracelet; July loth, earrings; July 21st, gold bracelet; July 23rd, gold bracelet.'"

"His mind seems to run in a groove!" muttered the Colonel. "Those are the chief presents. What have you got to .say about them?''. "The -boy is one of those unlucky individuals who have far more money than they know-what to <lo with. He might spend it worse—in chorus girls and dissipation. Miss Church seems a very nice "Fiddlesticks! He's making himself •worse than a fool! How does she treat him ? She is positively rude to Mm, and treats him like a dog." "Miss Church doesn't look the sort of " "Nonsense! He fetches and carried for her like a tame poodle, v while she avoids him on every possible occasion." "Well, if he's so apparently distasteful to her, .why doesn't she tell him to go?" Miss Prism threw up her hands in despair. "My dear Colonel, I may not still be in the heyday of my youth, but I thank Heaven my intellect is still sound. Miss Church apparently remembers the wisdom she learnt in the nursery, that it is a .mistake to kill the goose which lays the golden eggs." "She looks on him like that, does she? Miss Prism, I believe you're riglit. Somebody must speak to them." "You are the liov's companion." "Yes; but " "You are -his uncle." "By courtesy only." "You must speak to him." "My word would have no weight. It should come from a totally disinterested source, from a stranger. Now, you "If you can't move him, you must talk to her." "Impossible!" Miss Prism gathered together her belongings, and prepared to depart. "You must do it. This is man's work, and you have been a soldier. It has to be done. There are other things beside the bov to be considered. Gentility, propriety." ; "But- 1 —" "Common decency!" Colonel Winch lay back in his chait and wiped his forehead with a striped pocket handkerchief.

On first acquaintance, a, casual observer would have described Miss Church as an exceedingly charming girl with an exceedingly disagreeable mother. The girl was young, pretty, and lively; tne' mother oui, irritable and fault-finding. At the West Hydro, in the popular resort of Neyley, the elderly spinsters, who comprised the feminine element, reversed this decision. The mother was an interesting invalid, 'the girl a designing minx. Certainly the girl's conduct had not been above reproach. She has found herself .surrounded .by a goodly number of bachelors, who were obviously attracted by her. -She was of a cold, reserved nature, but she possessed an exceedingly vulnerable spot. She smiled sweetly upon those who laid their gifts —gifts of an intrinsic, not of a sentimental, value—at her feet. She ignored an unladen claimant of her attention. Her conduct in regard to John Traivt was certainly inexcusable. She accepted the presents he showered on her, yet refused to accept an unnecessary minute of his company.

Such conduct outraged the feelings of her fellow lady-boarders. They declaimed their opinion iin loud voices, tout Miss Church was apparently oblivious of the indignation she was causing. Accordingly, Miss Prism, as spokeswoman, .contrived to make Colonel Winch realise the gravity of the situation, and denianded"his practical help. Alarmed bv her seriousness, the Colonel .consented, and chose directly after dinner as a suitable time for his first complaint. He found the culprit, a younsr, high-spirited boy, in his room 'throwing things 'about with alarming vigor. Apparently he was changing his clothes in a liurr.v. "Hullo!" "My boy," said the Colonel gravely, "I want to talk with you." "Sorry—where the deuce —-? Oh, I've got itf Can't stop. I've got an important engagement. .Promised to meet some fellow. Must go! Beastly nuisance, as I wanted to see Ifiss Church." "I shall be seeing Miss Church." said the Colonel, talcing a sudden resolution.

"Lucky dog! Put in a good word for [ me!" "We may discuss youj" said the Col- j onel guardedly. i "Oh, and look .here, if you've got time' take her along a little something for me!" He fumbled in his pocket and produced a coin. "You'll 'be taking your constitutional first, buy some chocolates or something with this for me—anything worthy of her." The Colonel found himself without words, staring at the sovereign in his hands. He had known (Jack for many years, and he had never behaved like this to any other girl. He found his voice, however, as the boy was going, and shouted at his back: "All right, something worthy." Then ■he added to himself: "I ought to buy someone a rope with this —six feet — with a slip-knot at the end; but he's only a fool, and he's in love." The Colonel pleaded urgent business and obtained the promise of an early interview from Miss Church. He should have considered himself decidedly fortunate, but during the whole of his evening stroll he was wishing that she had refused. However, ,hc "pulled himself together, and sought his victim in her private sitting-room. Miss Church looked very young and charming in a simple white dress—not at all like the unwomanly creature she had been .painted. There was the faintest frown of impatience on her brow, but she motioned her visitor to a 'seat and looked at him interrogatively. It was obviously impossible for the Colonel to .break out in a sudden torrent of abuse. He realised that he would have to use tact and diplomacy. Unfortunately, the Colonel was a downl right speaker, and these qualities were .conspicuous by their absence. However:

"You know Mr. Trant?" Miss Church nodded. "I—l am his uncle." ' He said this slowly and impressively; then paused so long that the girl was forced to laugh, despite 'herself. "That's very interesting, and of course it's very kind of you to come and. tell me. But you said you had a special. reason for wishing to «ee me. I hardly think that alone can he it. I was rather busy." ishe glanced towards a book on the'table—Winch couldn't help noticing that it was Tennyson's poems. "I have 'heeii talking to Mr. Trant this evening—alone," ,he said. This time the girl laughed unrestrain* edly.

"I don't think you should be unduly conceited about that. Why, even I was talking to him last night." This would never d ! o. He must lead up to the point more quickly. His ihand strayed to the pocket of his coat. "He asked me to bring some sweets or something for you, and gave me a coin—a ridiculously large coin—for that purpose. 'Anything worthy of her,' he said. I promised him, and 'I keep my ■promises." He drew from his pocket a small 'bag. A moment's inspection showed it to contain a ■ few cheap chocolate creams. The bag had unfortunately been sat upon, and one side was stained a deep chocolate hue. He gravely placed it on the table. "That is why I came." The girl was on her feet, flushed and indignant. < | "You came to deliberately insult me?" "I came to speak the truth. lam the .boy's untie, and I am old enough to be your father. I'm .going .'to act that part to-night—someone's got to do it, and disagreeable frankness is on« of the necessary qualities. You've ibehaved abominably to Jack. You have treated him like dirt, and all the time he loves you. Do you think he's danced to any other girl as he has to you?"

"Hasn't he?" Hasn't he really?" "He loves you, and in the blindness of his folly he thinks you're all that's ,-good. He'll find out the. truth soon enough, poor chap! You've treated ihim abominably. You've only used him for what you could get out of him. You've accepted present after present from nim just because they've cost money. You've taken everything,' and given him less than mere civility. You're a sponge, madam, .a common or bathroom sponge!"

The Colonel was playing his own game now, and knew where he was. Yet he wasn't (comfortable. The girl before him looked so young and frightened that he felt he wanted to smack lu'r. 'then kiss her and tell her not (to bo naughty again. The Colonel always had 'been a fool where women were concerned. However, iie had to go on. "To you he's been the goose 'that lays the golden eggs—and that's the only reason -why you haven't sent Mm away. I've only got one thing more to say to you. Give him back all his presents, and idon't see him any more. That's the only way you can preserve the tattered rags of a .soiled gentility (the Colonel was in the sprint for home now, and going strong). Give me the presents and I'll take them to Ihim. Will you let me have them now?" For answer the ,girl put her head on her hands and burst into passionate tears. "I can't," .she sobbed. The Colonel could not understand this sort of fire. Thoroughly ashamed of himself, he commenced to retreat. Before he could peach tile door, however, the girl was on her feet, dabbing her eyes with a ridiculous .wisp of lace. "Stop!" she commanded. 'l've (rot something to say now. You've (acted the part of the overbearing parent, and now you've got to listen to your adopted daughter's confession. "You think that, my mother and I are rich. We're not; we're desperately poor. You think we're staying at this ■place on our income. We're not; we're paying for it 'with the proceeds of the presents I given me. Now do you 'begin to understand? For the last year I've been accepting presents—laying 'myself out to get them—in order that « may pay our way. Yes, it's shameful, isn't it? But there are worse ways of getting money. I amuse men who bore

me; they pay me with tkeir presents. It's fair—it's a new (profession." "It's not the profession for a lady." •■Oh, don't think i enjoy it. It's not easy work—and it's not pleasant work. li-.u'we've got to have money. Mother's an invalid, a cross, irritable invalid, but she wasn't always that. She lost her health nursing me through a dangerous illness—risked her life and lost all that was best in jher. She doesn't realise what I'm doing. She's gone through pain and suffering—and she's not I can't give you back 'those presents. ! I've sold "them*. Oh, you're right—after | all. 1 ought to have been a governess—i or got married." "But, Jack—youve not played the ; game with 'him'. You've given him noI thing." j "That's been my mistake—my first mistake. Can't you understand, that he means something to me? I've been afraid to talk to him for fear that something will grow, for fear he should guess. 'iVvc tried to kciul him away, but he won't go—and I can't tell him." "Heaven bless my soul! If you care ; like that, whv -don't you marry him?'' i "Ah, Colonel, you don't understand ! women! They'd sooner lose everything if they have-to lose a little. He might ! think "afterwards that I married him beI cause I'm poor—for my mother's sake. I We're leaving to-morrow, that's why I ! can tell you all this. Wait, there's one thing more." She fumbled in the soft laces at her throat, and drew forth a little gold locket. - "This is .his. Take it back to Jiira, I've no right to keep it." She laid it on the table as she spoke. ; "I thing I'll Ikee.p the chocolates, ] though," she said with a shaky little laugh. The Colonel caught both 'her hands in iliis hands for a second; then, without a word he was making for the door, when she stopped him imperiously. "One thing more. 1-o-night's over and done 'with. [ am going to-morrow, but remember what I have told you .lias 'been in the strictest confidence. I think you've acted rightly to-night, but if .ever you so much as a word of my confidence to Mr. Trailt' 1 will never, never forgive you." But she did. At least. Mrs. Hack Trant did, which, -of course, was the same thing.