A GRAND FLIRTATION.

Temuka Leader, Issue 2345, 19 April 1892, Page 4

A GRAND FLIRTATION.

The west was all aflame with the autumn junset ere Cora Smith and her little twelve year old sister Madge closed the cottage floor behind them, and ran down the garden path towards the stile, where he was waiting —in other words, where hazel-eyed, sweetfaced Cora Smith’s city lover was waiting for his lady love, as she had many a night waited for him. Almost every evening they met there at the stile —their " trysting place," he said, just half way between her home and his lodging-house. He had proposed it, and she was nothing loth to accede—it was so pretty and romantic. Auntie Sarah was not at all pleased with this dark-eyed young stranger, and though she had not forbidden him the house, both lovers knew she preferred " his room to his company." And so, always with dear little Madge at her side, she daily tripped down the path through the leafy woods to the half-way trysting place where she met her handsome, dark-eyed lover, Neil Rowan. How her heart fluttered to-night as she thought of him ! and the warm love-light deepened and darkened the soft brown eyes! "Neil, Neil!" she said, almost unconsciously, aloud; and little Madge clasped her sister’s hand closer, and looked up in her face. " Do you love him so very much, Sister Cora?" A swift hot colour came into the girl's cheeks, and then she paused, suddenly holding the hands of little Madge in a fervent grasp. " Better than all the world —better than my youth, my life. ,And I am to be his wife, little Madge, this good man's wife, when the spring comes. I shall leave you, and auntie, and uncle to be all his. But this is our secret, little sister, and only you tan share it,” Then her hands relaxed their hold, and drawing the little scarf over her shoulders, she tripped silently on. They were almost there —nearing the edge of the wood, and the stile was but a few steps away. Another step forward, and then Madge held her sister back. " Wait!" she whispered; " I can see two men on the seat, Cora. We do not want to meet strangers there.” "No," she said, drawing back in the shadow of the wood ; " it is Neil's friend, Willis Dean. We will wait until he goes, for I do not care to meet him." i Even as she spoke the figure rose, and the sound of his voice came on the twilight air, distinct and clear. ",And what of this love affair, friend Neil? - When is it to end, and how ? * Are you really in earnest, and do you mean to marry the girl ?” Cora Smith’s hand closed upon the arm of Madge till she shrank in pain while they waited for the answer. Neil Rowan laughed softly. " Marry her!” he repeated. " She is just the subject for a grand flirtation, and I assure you I have done the thing well. But for anything further—bah I I am going back to town to-morrow, and this is our last meeting ; so be off, old fellow, for I expect her every moment.” Just for one moment Madge Smith’s heart stood still in awful fear, for she thought Cora was dying. That white, ghastly face there in the twilight, that motionless figure, those tightly-locked hands—it surely was not the fair, sweet maiden of a moment before. But the spasm passed, and, without a word, she rose and glided noiselessly away, and Madge followed her in silence. Neil Rowan waited until the light had all died put of the west, and the dew lay like summtW.rain on the grass at his feet. His cigar- was sqioked down to ashes, and his lazy reverie wiSS froken by the cry of the corn-crake. _ " She isn’t coming t£-pight," he said mentally; "that is certain. The scheming auntie up yonder managed to pi’,? v ent R this time. Oh, well, it saved a scene ! 5 will drop a loving farewell note, and so it ends—a summer’s amusement. Ha, hum !” and Neil Rowan strolled homeward, singing, half unconsciously, " I won’t have her, I know—l won’t have her, I know—l don’t ■are a straw who has her." The farewell note came to Cora Smith fee following night, but the fever-bright eyes never rested on the page, for, ere the insane ligjljt gave place to reason again, death sealed the white eyelids. To such natures ap this girl’s, love is life, and the rude Blow that awoke her from the one bright dream of her youth, snapped the tender cord that bound her frail spirit to earth : -arid Out of the depths of her awful grief, the kindly hand of death led her to the mountain top, where is builded the city oi the Npw Jerusalem. Day by day, week by week, month by so sped the time until eight years were’counted. Eight times the grass had | frown over the little grave in the lonely l ountry graveyard, and again the October j rustled the autum leaves over the < Barir'ow mound. • I Wonderful changes had the eight years ! brought- fside by side with this grave were two others, and the headstones bore the names of good aunt and uncle Smith. They had rested there six years; and every slimmer,, beautiful Madge Smith came down from her house in town, and lingered in the 1 old home a week, trimming the grasses and 1 planting bright flowers on the mpunds. > Bright, beautiful Madge Smith, the heiress ■ of all uncle Smith’s hidden wealth, the : wealth he guarded so well during that toil- 1 wbm, weary life. ’ £:<Three years before, Madge Smith left 1 school, to reign queen of society. Beautiful, i strangely beautiful, with that cold, white, high-bred face, those wide, fathomless, , glittering amber eyes, a figure matchless in j symmetry and grace, accomplished, polished, I and the heiress of great wealth, no wonder ; that lovers, old and young, knelt at Madge | Smith’s shrine. Strange wonder, the world j said, that all were scorned—not gently and with words of pity and apology, but spurned ( from her very feet with scornful lips and blazing eyes. i Aye, Madge Smith was an enigma and 1 mystery to all who knew her. No warmer ; friend, no brighter companion did those of her own sex seek. But never were those I lips seen to smile, of those wonderful eyes j to soften, in response to any lover’s; no i glacier was more frigid than she to all men, j All, did I say ? Nay, Dame Rumour had ! plenty of gossip just now. Only a few ! weeks since a new rival appeared on the i scene of action. Neil Rowan, merchant and ! millionaire, entered the list of Madge Smith’s adorers—not for her wealth, surely. Madame Grundy acknowledged graciously He bvd enough of his own. It was genuine love that this man felt for beautiful Madge. 1 And a wonderful change had come over the ; fair lady since his appearance. Bright be- j fore, she was brilliant now—sparkling, i -..■iffy, bewildering : and the world looked • on in amaze to see the flush stain her white cheek, and the bright smile that lighted her eyes at his approach. And did he not recognise her, you are wondering? Nay, how should he? Sweet Cora Smith, and the summer in the country, were forgotten things with this man. He bad broken half-a-dozen silly hearts since then, and left them all with Time, the great healer. He had flirted and left the past all behind hi«n. And now he came and laid the j first pure, real love of his lifetime at this i woman’s feet. So he told her, one autumn j Slight, in the grand saloon of her stately borne.

How her hands trembled and her eyes shone as she listened. •’ Wait,” she said; " I will give you my answer to-morrow night : it is my birthday, and I shall give an entertainment. You come; I will answer you then. Be in the library at ten, and you shall hear my answer." And the night came, and he was there waiting. He paced the room impatiently. Would she ever come, this girl that was dearer than his life ? Aye, she was life to him. The world had seemed old, stale, flavourless, until he met her, the woman who, alone of all her sex, had ever stirred the slumbering passions of his heart. How bright the future seemed! He was so sure of herjanswer; had not she given it all but in words ? And just then he heard the light ripple of a woman’s laugh in the adjoining room. Her laugh ; he knew it among thousands ; and her voice ; she was speaking loud and clear. "There, Guardie, you must let me go now. Mr. Rowan is waiting for me in ftc library. You know lam to ve him my answer to-night.” And her guardian’s voice, speaking tenderly, replied: “ And that answer—l can guess it, little Madge. You are going to marry this man, and leave.us all." She laughed softly. "Marry him? No, indeed, sir! He is just the subject for a grand flirtation, and I assure you I have done the thing well; but for anything further—bah ! But he is expecting me, so by-by, till I come again,” and she tripped lightly through the halfopen door, ere the amazed guardian could otter a syllable. A white, ghastly, shivering figure stbod by the library window. " For mercy's sake, Madge Smith, tell me you were jesting !" he cried, as brilliantly, glowingly, beautiful, she glided into the room. " Not so, my friend," she answered, lightly; " I spoke the truth. If you overheard my words I need not repeat them. It is my answer.” “ But you gave me hope; you led me on; you have given me reason to think you loved me,” he cried passionately. " It is the one love of my life ! I have centred every hope and thought in you, Madge Smith, and for my sake, for mercy's sake, do not wreck my life!” She was very pale now and her eyes were black and glistening. " Neil Rowan,” she said slowly, “ I have prayed for this hour for eight years, but never in my wildest dreams did I think my prayer would be so fully answered, When I saw the hue of death, the white agony on my only sister’s cheek—when I saw her writhe in speechless agony at the words she heard eight years ago to-night, I vowed to avenge her. Again, when I heard the thud of the earth upon her coffin, I vowed that vow. Fate has brought it about even sooner, more completely, than I had thought. If I have given you one hour of such agony as she suffered, I am content. If you could live and suffer it for countless ages, I should be better content. Good night!” Shortly afterwards the sharp ring of a pistol rang with startling distinctness through the crowded drawing-room. All sprang to their feet, save Madge Smith. Perhaps her cheek paled a little —I cannot tell—but the light of her eye never changed, her smiling lips never relaxed as she gazed upon the blood-stained corpse in the libary. Neil Rowan had taken his own life, and Cora Smith was avenged.

THE TONGUE. ” The boneless tongue, so small and weak. Can crush and kill," declared the Greek. ■* The tongue destroys a greater horde," The Turk asserts, "than does the sword." The Persian proverb wisely saith, " A lengthy tongue —an early death.” Or somNiff l63 takes this form instead : ” Don’t let yblir tongue cut oft your head." " The tongue can speak a word whose speed," Say the Chinese, V outstrips the steed.” While Arab sages this impart: •The tongue’s great storehouse is the heart." -■ , Prom Hebrew wit the maxim sprung, "Though feet should slip, ne’er let the tongue.” The sacred writer crowns the whole,” ’ ” "Who keeps his tongue doth keep his soul.” " TAKING HIS MEASURE.” A very high-toned-looking young man in exquisite moustache, loud plaid clothes, red lecktie, low-crowned hat, straw-coloured <ids, and knitting-needle cane, walked into a ;obacco shop, and throwing down a buff* mown on the counter, said, " Well, this is ;he worst town I ever saw ; a gentleman :,an’t get anything in it satisfactoryfand I im utterly unable to see how a person of astidious taste can live here. I say, Mr, Shopkeeper, can you sell a fellow a decent flgar?” " Yes, Sir,” said the cigar man, meekly. ” Well, then, look lively, and do it. Don’t you see that half-crown ?” Yes, Sir. What kind of a cigar do you wish, Sir ?" ” What kind ?" “ Yes, Sir." " Why, look at me, Sir. for a moment, and see for yourself what kind of a cigar would suit me," and he drew himself up zrandly and gazed down on the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper looked, took in the halfmown, got out a cigar, and handed it to the man with two shillings and fivepence change. GEMS OF THOUGHT. There is more saving viriuein one quick reproof than in an hour’s aimless scolding. A scolding woman is a constant thorn in the flesh. Death, to a good old man or woman, in the coming of the heart to its blossoming time. Do we call it dying when the bud uursts into flower ? Plenty is as distinct from wastefulness as i whole sack full of wheat from a sack whh a hole in for the wheat to run through. Let no one be discouraged because his time is fully occupied. An industrious man’s odd minutes are worth more than a lazy man’s all day. To think kindly is good, to speak kindly is better, but to act kindly is best. Let warm, loving light shine m fill round you, and you wiil never lack friends. If there is really no such thing as unselfishness, as has been said, it is a very sweet kind of selfishness that prefers the pleasure and happiness of another before its own. Let the things which thy heart suggests to thee to say, be well .considered before they pass on to the tongue; (or thou wilt perceive that it would be well to keep back many of them. Success is rarely a matter of accident—always a matter of character. The reason why so many men fail is that so few men are willing to pay the price of self-denial and hard work which success exacts. Good thoughts, good words, good deeds, make up a good day; seven good _ days make the round of a week. Goodness in the heart makes all time good ; so, if you will have a " good tune, 11 have a gqpd hearty