Lovers' Little Fibs.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVII, Issue 7, 9 January 1886, Page 6

Lovers' Little Fibs.

He had said good-bye. The tears had fallen like rain, the kisses like thunder and lightning. Her hair looked as if she had been through a prize fight, and he had squeezed the engagement ring through three fingers. But she lo7ed him all the aame. As he was borne off in the flying cara ho took out a little package on which •was written in a trembling hand: " For Alfred, Don't open till you are on the train. "He broke the seal and kissed passionately the tracture. The note read :

My owjt, own Dearest : When you are reading this you will be far away from me. I shall be weeping ia my chamber, with your ring firmly pressed to my Uds ; for, darling, I will Bleep with it thero. O my beloved, how hard it is to part—how hard. But it ia for the beat, and I must bear it. Think of mo, my own darling, and when you uso this, whioh I havo made with my own hands for him I love so clearly, it will be part of me yon touch and hold. It is a little thing, but oh bo full of my heart and my love. Keep it, darling, for my sake.

He kissed the package frantically, and opened it. It was a powder puff. She hai given him the wrong box. What nonsense people talk. Tho fellow goes off. She says, " When you are away I will bo weeping in my chamber. "He fancies to himself how she will scoot upstairs and lock herself in her room, throw herself on the bod, and sob' and sob, as if her heard would break. Ec hears her moans, he hears her call upon him, and ho pictures to himself what a scene it would bo if ha suddenly threw open the door, called " Eliza !" and felt her rush into his arms. It is a good thing he doesn't go back. He •would find her standing calmly before the glass fixing her back hair and putting cold cream on her lips. But' it isn't all on one side.

" I will not cease to think of you. I am walking no air. I know no earth, no world. Oh, my angel! I cannot epeak to anyone. I dare not meet anyone. My heart is so full." And he stops in the first corner and has a drink, goes home, packs his trunk, jama her picture into his valise, and steps in at the club to have a farewell bottle of champagne with the boys. He's lull when he goes off- but it isn't the same kind of lull.

Then her birthday comes off. He thinks of it» week or two ahead and bays something for her. He ties a knot in his handkerchief and leaves the present where he -can't forget it, because he knows ho may. He sends it on two or three days early to get rid of it—aß he says, to get there on time. Then he forgets hor birthday when ■it comes, and sits down and writes to her that he thought of her bo maoh, but hag not had time to write before. And she — well, she always remembers his birthday, because she ia afraid if she did not he would npi-^<? \her anything on Christmae,