A PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIII, Issue 5, 7 January 1902, Page 2

A PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT.

Harold White, in "The Ladies' Pictorial'

<Usft TO. Th^hfsfret^nl 2S Tybalt before dinner.) Miss Gordon-I feel as though I had been born here. You were late enough, goodness knows. _-...,. Mrs Phillpotts-Yes, I look upon punctuality as the thief of time. Miss Gordon-But this missing link is unforgivable. It is a man too Mrs Phillpotts-Will be, to be Darwin

ia(En.rhurriedly Richard Fenwick, bubbling with apologies.) Miss Gordon-Good gracious. (Dinner is announced. Fenwick is guided by the hostess' fan in the direction of the two women.) • Miss Gordon-Heaven grant it may be you. Mrs Phillpott-Heaven has my prayer to the same effect. But why yours? Miss Gordon - Because I refused him

yesterday. Mrs Philpotts-You 1 Oh, my prophetic soul, the dean! The Dean (unctuously to Mrs Philpotts, offering his arm)-Life has many consolations, Mrs Philpotts. Mrs Philpotts (purposely misunderstanding him)—P hope that iced souffle will be one of them. Fenwick (to Miss Gordon)—l'm awfully sorry. Miss Gordon (with an air of sweet seriousness suitable to his hard case)-I know I am your misfortune, and not your fault. Fenwick (perfectly cheerful)—lsn.t it a curious thing? If you take particular care to avoid any one person, you are bound to meet him or her twice as often as anybody else. If you descend into a carriage on the underground, he is there. If you climb up to the top of Popocatepetl he is there. (Miss Gordon comes to the conclusion that it is .bad taste to use Scriptural phraseology when you are talking nonsense.) If you avoid him by a yachting cruise, he comes on deck as soon as the anchor's weighed. The fact is, Fortune doesn't shuffle her cards properly.

Miss Gordon (who is,' somehow, not quite pleased with the way he has put things, coldly)— Fortune has, indeed, dealt your hand badly fro you to-night.

Fenwick—Never mind. I promise to devote myself entirely to my off side neighbour. I wonder who it is to be—oh (with undisguised pleasure), it is, apparently Rosie Boycott.

Miss Gordon (a casual glance has shown her that Rosie's hair is done in a particularly becoming manner, which she makes up her mind to regard as "barmaidish")—lsn't that rather going to extremes? | Fenwick (eagerly)—' May I talk to you? That "is jolly. I love talking to you. You're so sensible. Miss Gordon—Oh! (sotto voce) isn't Miss Boycott sensible? Fenwick (apparently ignoring the question)—l believe men always make love to a certain sort of girl because they know that she won't understand in I the least any other subject of conversation they might bring up.

Miss Gordon (thinking that the obvious interpretation of his sentence is that if he does talk to Rosie Boycott he will make love to her, and, looking upon it as, under the circumstances, insulting, she is not gracious. Besides, there is an indefinable something about "sensible" which suggests a lack of proper idolatry)— May I ask why you think me sensible?

Fenwick—Oh, there are any number of reasons. Why, yesterday—don't mind my blurting on an awkward subject—l am sure that you had awfully good reasons for —for telling me what you did.

Miss Gordon is saved the necessity of replying by Fenwick's attention being claimed by Mis!. Rosie. During 'the next few minutes she has the opportunity of observing that Miss Rosie's white shoulders are shaking with laughter, that Fenwick's back is broad and well fitted, and that his neat head is bent in the most interested manner in Rosie's direction. Her glimpses leave her vaguely wondering whether it is possible that he does not greatly care. Fenwick (leaving a laugh behind him and returning to the "sensible" theme)— I would always take your opinion about anything. I think you would make up your mind about a thing and stick to it, you know. I shan't forget that you told me yesterday that you would always take a sort of interest in me, and I shall come and bother you whenever I get into a muddle or anything. I shan't mind tellingyou all about it, and I know you'll give me good advice.

Miss Gordon (not thoroughly pleased by this ready adoption of the brother and sister relation and the prospect of possible love confidences would be silent, but the fact that Miss Rosie is unoccupied on his other side prompts her to say something) -Why were you so late? There would have been thirteen if you had not come Fenwick-Usual excuse. Cab horse fell down. It wasn't original, but it was true Miss Gordon—Were you hurt? Eeirwick—Oh, no. Miss Gordon-Tlien why do you keen your left hand under the table' Fenwick-My wrist did not behave pro--S. thT 7 omitor tbe asphalt, and the chemist has made an untidy job

Miss GonJon-Then you are hurt' Penwick-Ifs a mere nothing. If s a nuisance in one way, of course. It '___ vents my going off to-morrow Miss Gordon (softly, with a not entirely ur-pleasing vision in her mind's eye of Fenwick treasuring a sacred memory on some arid veldt)-Tou were going to morrow? Why?

Fenwick (quite cheerfully)_o h , I looked upon it as usual under the circumstances Besides, it's a good thing. Avoids aw k l ward questions and contretemps for o week or two, till (pauses, as though it is thoroughly understood that in a week or two neither will have the faintest recollection of what had occurred).

Miss Gordon (damped)-And where are you gofng? .

Fenwick-Oh, Paris first, and then on you know. We mean to have a good time' The expressed intention of having "a good time" freezes for the moment Ml* s Gordon's flow of speech, and Rose Boycott breaks in with a bridge problem, it is an idiotic doubt as to whether you may de Clare trumps to be a suit which you don't hold at all. and is obviously put forward with the sole object of engaging F- enwick's attention. Blind to the artfulness of the device, he enters into the discussion with zest and most manifest enjoyment. Although the conversation cannot possibly interest her, Miss Gordon finds stKfc-kas .heard c(j____dc_era.bly; more-o*

it than of the remarks essayed by her :'.| ] other neighbour on the possibility of there ;;| being 13 in number, and the likelihood of I one of them dying if there had been. Miss Gordon's other neighbour (w_th,a § stentorian effort) - Most extraordinary |g thin- Miss Gordon. Told lots of men. " about it. Every man of 'em said, "By jove" The very night before the Gold r Cup dreamed I saw No. 13 go up. Saw It I as clearly as if I'd been awake. Would m you believe it, No. 13 won the very neqct race to the Gold Cup? And what I say l 3 |,fg this, that that proves that 13 isn't an un.Jlucky number. . " Miss Gordon (vaguely)-Really. How|j fortunate! J§ The bridge problem has been shelved,.:., and Miss Rosie has found out about tha f damaged wrist. Her pretty eyes are full | of sympathy. Miss Gordon is, of course, | aware that this is simply a trick, but Fen- , wick, poor boy, is too trustful to perceive it. IJe even seems to like the simulate.!, solicitude. His replies to Miss Rosie's .;' questionings are not so curt and indiffer. ent as they were to her own on the sann» subject. Miss Rosie, too, is taking a good 1 deal of trouble to be interested, and she i is, as a rule, rather particular as to the :Sv men she makes "fools of. The words, "the'| poor wrist," come to Miss Gordon's ears M uttered in tones which would be seductive -.yy to poor, stupid males. The thought grows - strong in Miss Gordon's mind that It Is-II the duty of a good woman to rescue this poor mortal from a Circe's wiles. Even a sacrifice of some personal dignity shoulct, ; be made in order to do so. She therefore; ■■ breaks in a little hastily. "I do hope it is better." Fenwick—Ever so much, thanks. ; .', Miss Gordon (determined that his attention shall not be wiled away again)—Youmust not risk a hansom back. Fenwick—Am I condemned to a fourwheeler? (His eyes are wandering in thell direction of Miss Rosie's hands, which are rolling bread crumbs. This is obvious- i^ ly another wile.) Miss Gordon—l came alone in the g brougham. It might take you back. Fenwick—Do you know, '"it's most un- *';'• lucky. I said something about going hack '/:' with the Laughtons, and playing Miss Gordon (turning her head)—Oh, .'"/•■ then, of course Fenwick—But I'll say I have a previous

engagement. The importance of this young man's ' rescue looms gigantic. A fit of indiffer- ■'.■ ence might ruin it quite. Miss Gordon re- | lents and turns her eyes. Is it worth a falsehood? Fenwick (and his voice, as Miss Gordon remarks, is quite different)—Of course, if I said it was an engagement, it would have to be an—engagement. By means of some sort of wireless tele- . graphy an interrogatory significance is S • given to this remark, and by the same ""*' method an answer is conveyed. The sue- | cess of this scientific experiment demands Wm that Miss Gordon's hand and Mr Fenwick's wounded member should meet un- . j derneath the table. This happy belief in ! the surreptitious nature of the proceed-" ing is somewhat shattered 'on catching _^ the look of amazement in the Dean's eye,' and there follows a short but painful pause. Presently, however, the presence ■ of each other shuts out the existence of M mere other people. Miss Gordon (softly)— How little you un- 1 derstand women, Dick. m Fenwick—H'm! '1;