LONDON LOVE SCENES.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7956, 3 February 1906, Page 7

LONDON LOVE SCENES.

(By Keble Howard). THE SENTIMENTAL WIDOW. "Do yoa really believe ia love?" ■••asked the widow. The Colonel started. He had been wondering bow he could Hud out the exact amount of her fortune before taking the plunge. «<j3 r —oh, yes," he said. "Certainly, certainly." "How refreshing," sighed the widow. "Love?" queried the Colonel, with '••a splendid show of teuderness. "I meant, how refreshing to find a man who believes iu it. especially a man with so much experience in "life." "1 have always believed in it," replied the Colonel simply. His eyes 'became suddenly misty; they were not strong. "I wonder you never married," •observed the widow. She was looking down. He used the opportunity to note the luxury of the room. Even if rumour had •exaggerated, she mus'u be worth at 'least "Because," he said slowly, "I have waited to find tho woman who my ideal." The widow shook her head. "I'm •afraid you will remain a bachelor to the end of your days," she remarked. Now might he do it. To oe or not to-be? Courage! "But I have found her," he murmured hoarsely. ".Really?" she was vastly fluttered. "How very interesting! May one ask ?" "It is yourself," protested the Colonel, pulling forward his chair a little that he might the more conveniently seize her hand. 'Will you take me, Hester?" "Ruth," corrected the widow. "I beg your pardon, Ruth. Will •you —will you marry me?" "Yes,"- whispered the widow. He dropped on to his knee with difficulty and brushed her cheek with his moustache. s It tickled frightfully, but the widow did not laugh. "I will do my best to make you happy," promised the Colonel. "I ought to warn you, though, that J have very little besides my pension." "True love is better than riches. We can afford to face, poverty together." "Yea" the Colonel agreed. "At any rate, it ia a comfort to me to leflect that you need never fear privation." The widow sat up. "By the way," she observed, "1 suppose you know that in the event by my marrying again I lose all my money?" The Colonel gasred. The expression on his face betrayed him. "Thank you," said the widow. "I invented that to test you. One has to be so careful, doesn't one?" THE TELEGRAM. Cyril stamped the letters as slowly as possible, hoping that the pretty telegraph girl at the far end of the -counter for whom he bad been cherishing an hone9t admiration these six months, would grant him one glance before he went back to his dull lodgings. She usually did. Ida was particularly demure this afternoon* though, for she knew that tbe keen eye of the lady-superinten-dent had taken in the situation. What a pity tb*t boys were such poor conspirators! The last letter was etamped, and Cyril was dolefully making his way out of the post offioe when, quite without warning, something struck him. It was an idea. He hesitated a moment then walked across to a little desk, helped himself to a tele-graph-form and wrote: "Will you meet me at half-past eight to-night under the clock at Victoria Station? Bring a friend if you like." Ida, still without raising her eyes, took the form that the lovesick clerk pushed over the counter with trembling fingers. Her heart was beating a little fas'er than usual, but she was careful not to betray herself. The lady - superintendent drew a little nearer. "You've forgotten to fill in the address," said the girl in a dull, -official tone. "I—l don't know it," stammered Cyril, very red in the face. "I beg your pardon?" Ida had the fail of her eye on the lady-superin-tendent. She admired Cyril. He was much nicer than any of tbe fellows who made love to her at Shepherd's Bush. But the lady superintendent was not romantic. • "I—l've forgotten it." "Then I don't see how you oan •send the telegram." "I thought, perhaps, you could—will, suggest an address." Ida, for all her cunning; could not help laughing. The lady-superin-tendent came sailipg down on her. "Is there anything tbe matter, Miss Davies?" "This gentleman wants to send a telegram, Miss King, but he's forgotten the address." "Then, of course— —" "I've remembered it now," cried Cyril. And,- in sheer desperation, he filled in his own. "One and twopence halfpenny," said Ida. Cyril, with a rather rueful expression, paid the money. Yet, after all, it wasn't wasted. When he got back to his lodgings that evening, there were two telegrams waiting for him. One he had sent himself. The other contained a single word—"Yes." The lady-superintendent cried at the wedding.