COURTSHIP BY TELEGRAPH.

Waikato Argus, Volume IV, Issue 255, 5 March 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

COURTSHIP BY TELEGRAPH.

Tub telegraph office of Rouet had at this particular period—that is, about a dozen years ago—but one clerk of the first diss, who was almost attaining the position of principal. Ho' had a burning desire to get married, but somehow or other he never had the courage to avow his worthy aspiration. Edmond Chary—such was the clerk's name—was timid, very timid, and would almost as soon face a lion as a fomale. His parents, decent and laborious cultivators of the soil in the environs of Rouet, were also anxious that their boy should be what they called "established.". In their opinion it was time, for lip was already approaching his 30th year. But they had some pride in the notion that no ordinary peasant girl was suitable for him ; that it was in the city where he ruucst look for one congenial to their taste. They indeed contemplated a daughter-in-law from among the young ladies fresh from the colleges of the Sacred Heart or of the Adoration, highly educated, with unimpeachable manners, and not without dowry. Altogether, no one could be too good, no one could be too rich for Edmond, and such a one was not to be got from among their acquaintances at Rouet. As for Edmond himself, he had certainly none of those qualities likely to attract such a bride as his parents designed for him. In addition to his unconquerable timidity he was awkward, even to clumsiness, in his manner, and high official as he was, he had never been able to make the least impression in any of the salons which he frequented.

It was under such circumstances that Edmond Chary was despatching and receiving messages at Rouet from the French capital. One December morn he discovered that his colleague at the other end of the wire had been changed—that in place of a male clerk there was now a female.

" Having occasion to say to her, " Madam," " Yes, madam," '• Very well, madam," " If you please, madam," she boldly corrected him, and sent over the wires the message, "Not madam, but mademoiselle."

Just as Edmond Chary was timid and pusillanimous in presence of ladies, so he seemed to be bold and audacious when he communicated with them from a distance.

In a short time he gained the confidence of his colleague, even to the extent of learning all about her position in the Administration, her prospects of promotion, her projects, her desires, her ambitions. She desired to quit her present work in order to enter the Savings Bank department. " It is 18 months ago,' she wired in one of thosw intervals of leisure, " that I applied for this change, but I have not yet obtained it. There are any number of applications of the same kind.'

'Yes,' he replied in sympathy, 'all the clerks, male and female alike, covet these places.' During the pauses of work which occurred now and again, in defiance of the rule which forbade conversation, they gradually began to give each other some little personal details, and to indulge in a number of confidences.

• 1 lost my mother when I was still a child,' she flashed to him one day, ' and my father, then captain in a line regiment, and who has since retired on a pensiou, placed me a' - . Ecouen, where I was brought np.'On leaving the boarding school I remained two years at home. I lived alone with my father, who has no other child, and I took charge of the domestic affairs—far better than working outside. But my father possesses no other resources than his income, which dies with him, and the little fortune of my mother disappeared many years ago on account of the embezzlement of an unfaithful lawyer. I am, therefore, without any personal

means, and it is to assist my dear father, as well as to earn my own livelihood, that I had recourse to the Administration.'

' This work you will give up some day or other,' insinuated Edmond. 1 Marriage, you know, is the great aim of all ladies,'

' 1 don't know about that,' she replied. 'My chances are slight. 1 No dot, no husband,' as they say. An ordinary workman would not have a girl like us, and we certainly would not have him. We have received quite another education; we belong, as it were to another world. And in this country of ours there are many things to consider, such as appearances, all of which means we must have money.' ' That is> true,' chimed in Edmond.

' I say to myself sometimes,' she continued, ' that fate might have dealt with mo otherwise. Had I been a simple work girl, for instance, instead of having acquired some slight accomplishments and being taught to rank meself higher in the social world than some people, it might have been better for me. But I was well born, and to live in a small houso and to take care of my brats—well, oh, no ! That, as you know, not infrequently happens.'

' She seems a delightful girl,' thought Edmond Chary, 'and her conversation shows that she has sense.'

Next time he asked her name, and she told him it was Marie Valdier.

'And your age ?' ' Oh, you wretch ' Who ever puts such a question to a woman V ' You little coquette !' ho replied growing bolder. ' Why all this secrecy, since you must, like us all, produce your birth certificate at some time or another V

' Such a thing should not be allowed. If French gallantry still existed"

1 And equality also, what then V 'I am 2G—there! Are you satisfied V

' Oh, indeed ! Y r ou should know that I have a system of calculating approximately " ' Remember, sir, that I never lie!'

1 Never 1 Oh ! How long is that since V

' You are getting impertinent.'

Edmond was now growing so bold—brave from afar—that he began to question the lady as to her physique—whether she was tall or short.

' Rather tall,' she said. ' And slender f ' Yes.' ' Dark or fair V ' Fair,' ' Blue eves ?' 'Yes,' " 'You must bo a charming girl. The hands plump, or small, or long?' 'Oh, you have heard enough, sir. There is no end to your questions. Let me know something about yourself now.'

' At your disposal, mademoiselle.'

Edmond satisfied all her curiosity. He described himself frankly and without exaggeration, exacily depicting his tall figure, hia black hair, and his pointed beard.

Edmond Chary took so pleasantly to these stolen conversations that he really began to be in love with his far-off companion. He was actually on the point of going to see her, in order to make sure the description she had given of herself was the correct one.

' Yes, I shall go," he at last said to himself, 'and if she is really so pretty why should I not ask her hand 1 She seems altogether to be a worthy young lady, who his given proof of her courage and devotion. She has a tender heart, and she has good sense, and with all these qualities one does not require to care for her family 1 ? She has no money ; but then on the other hand she will have no expensive tastes. She enjoys a' domestic life, she is fond of household work, and consequently she will not require the assistance of a girl. I might do worse than marry her.' Edmond begged his chief one day to grant him leave for two days—which was given—and without warning Mdlle Valclier, he set out for Paris.

He did not desiro to take any precipitate action, nor did he wish any significant construction to be placed upon his motive. Desirous, indeed, of preserving his independence to the last and of being able to retire simply and freely if, against all expectation, he was disappointed or was led into error, he conceived the idea of making the journey without the knowledge of his colleague and of seeing her without her being able to see him. ' Her character as given by herself satisfies me,' he thought; 'and if her appearance is in harmony, then f will approach her. 1 adore fair women, especially if they are tall and slender. If all goes well, then, I will, with her consent, enrol myself as a member of the great married brotherhood.'

Our timid and prudent gentleman was able to put his programme into execution without difficulty. He knew the address of Mdlle Vaidier in the Rue d'Universitie, and In was familiar with her business hours, which were the same a 8 his own. Ho therefore placed himself

in ambuscade on the morning of his arrival close to the dwelling of of the young telegraphist. ' 1 will see her leaving the house soon,' he remarked, 'since she must bo at the office puntually at 8 o'clock.'

Exactly at half-past 7 a tall, young, fair girl, with blue eyes, and with a complexion as tender as a lily, emerged from the house Chary was watching. This without doubt was Mdlle Valdier. He followed closo on her heels without saying a word, over took her to look at her again, slackened his footsteps to allow her to pass in turn—all to contemplate and admire her in every possible way. In his opinion she was truly exquisite, even beyond his highest expectations. Even her hands, one could see, though covered with chestnut gloves, were small and plump.

' Never will I find a better !' he exclaimed quite radiant and exultant. ' Never, in fact, could I have a better. She is a blessing from heaven—provided, that is, she will have me and will not repulse me.'

In spite of his excessive reserve and his natural timidly, his courage almost rose to the point of approaching the lady and revealing his incognito. On the way, however, she fell in with some companions colleagues possibly—with whom she entered into conversation while hurrying on. Edmond Chary all too soon saw the happy band, disappear under the high vault of the General Telegraph Office in the Rue de Grenelle. ' What should I do V he contemplated. ' Should I writs to her ? No, my letter might fall into the hands of her father. It will be bettor, I think, to communicate with her when I return. I can talk with * her over the wire—it will he more simple. Ido hope she is free, and that she will not reject me. If she should be engaged to another—but, no, she would have told-me.'

Cliarry was so clearly smitten, and was in sucli a state of enthusiasm, that he resolved to return to Rouct immediately in order to declare his feelings to his parents and to beseech his father to ask for him the hand of Mdlle Valdier. -fS^SR

M. Chary, on hearing the request and the condition of the young lady made a broad grimace. •So many sacrifices in vain ?' he exclaimed. ' A child for whom we have bled ourselves white 1 To marry a girl without a farthing ? Who wouhi have thought it of him ? Have wo deserved such treatment 1 However, since you are pleased 1 You are of an age, besides to know what you are doing, and if you are prepared to taste of misery, then'

Here lie became suddenly silent, and resigned himself to the situation.

' When yon want me to go upon your errand let me know,' said the father, speaking snappishly, pressing his lips, and shrugging his shoulders. Returning to the office, and installed before his instrument, he took advantage of the flrst opportunity to enter into conversation with Marie.

' What has become of you these last two days?' she asked, 'You were not ill, for your substitute told tne.'

' No, 5 he replied, 'it was all on your account. I went to Paris for the express purpose of seeing you.' 1 W hat a story !' ' Yes and 1 saw you. I followed you from your house to the office.' • What nonsense !' ' I assure you !' ' But why —for what object T ' Because I love you, because ' —

And he declared his love in passionate terms, and beseeched her not to reject his petition.

' I only ask your permission that I may tell my father to go to your house to make tie request.' After a short and passionate intercourse, Marie Valdier did not hesitate. She had had ample time during the past four months of studying the gentle and amiable disposition of her distant colleague—a disposition that did not displease her. She therefore promised that if he and his father presented themselves at her house their request would I e favourably entertained.

Edmond Chary, who had just obtained two days' holidays, and desired to have more on the occasion of his contemplated marriage—three weeks at least—judged it right not to abuse administrative liberalies, and in this respect to allow his father to go alone and place before M. Vaidier his official mission.

M. (Jliary was successful in his interview with M, Vaidier. He returned to announce to his son that his views were favourably entertained, and that he could with perfect assurance advise h's chief of the event in order to procure the necessary holiday. The next day Edmond aivi his father proceeded to the house of M. Vaidier.

Marie, warned of the intended visit, ha I got a few hours' leave, which she utilised in preparing to do the honours of the house on the occasion of so important a visit. M. Chary an 1 Elmond duly arrived. Edmond, as he generally did in the presence of strangers, began to quiver. But now the quivering was of an aggravated form. He seemed, indeed to be utterly abashed

and astounded, He remained standing by the side of the seat which had been offered him, and looked as if he had not strength to utter a word. He stared with wide-open eyes —his mouth was also open —and he swung his arms to and fro, ' This,' he was saying to himself—- ' this is not the lady ! This is not the colleague I saw leaving the house and followed that morning to the central office 1 This lady is not fair; she is red—a complexion the colour of bricks ! She is not tall and slender : she is of middle height—almost dumpy and thick ! Is this really Marie Valdier ] She had the assurance to say she was fair; the audacity to proclaim herself slender 1 Yet she asserted she never told a lie. She has really a high opinion of her charm*}! —and her squinting ayes! Blue eyes they were no doubt—yes, crockery blue ! But hang it! the eyes would have done had they been straight!' How could the error have arisen 1 For there was an error—no doubt about it—a material confusion of personages—a mistaken identity. 1 Was it with you I corresponded ' he at last gasped. • Yes sir' she replied. • That I have corresponded with for four months ?' ' Certainly sir. You should know me since you acknowledge that you came to Paris and followed me.' ' Of course, of course/ stammered Edmond, who neither knew what to say nor do ; and shivered more than ever, apprehensive meanwhile than he was making himself utterly ridiculous. Old Valdier invited Edmond and his father to dinner the same evening. It was while seated at the table that the future son-in-law had an explanation of the awkward contretemps. 1 Allow me to present to you my friend Berthie, my maid-of-honour,' said Marie, bringing forward a tall handsome young lady—the very young lady that he had seeu in Paris. ' Mddle Berthie Mailly is a colleague also. She entered the Administration at the same time as I did, and she stays with us for convenience !' Edmond Chary was not one of those people who. when they have gone too far, wish to make a hasty retreat. He made himself the victim of circumstances. He afterwards appeared before the mayor, and then knelt at the altar with his wife Marie Valdier. This is a divinity that shapes our ends. If fortune favours the brave, she also protects sometimes the timid and the bashful, and the lovers had no cause to regret the union so curiously formed. In spite of the fanciful view that Marie Valdier took of her physical attractions, she possessed incontestable mora! qualities—qualities that time alone respects. She surrounds her husband with care and happiness at Bretagne the charge of the telegraph office at which place was confided to him at the expiration of the holiday he had obtained to get married.—Translated from the Petit Journal. ________„