LOVE AT THE FAIR.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 144, 19 June 1926, Page 38

LOVE AT THE FAIR.

(SnOHT STOEXj

(By CLAUDE F. LUKE.)

Lady Parling tilted her nose and sniffed till her white hair shook. "Ronald," she said, and her voice quivered a little "with indignation, '"read that carefully and I'll tell you what I intend to do in the matter."

Ronald Waynthorpe, her nephew by law, her son by affection, and her secretary by profession, took the letter. To him fell the task of answering her correspondence, tactfully fending off social climbers, sending cheques to the most genuine-sounding of the begging letters she received, and arranging her engagements for the day.

Long experience had taught him that his aunt's little furies were of short duration, and usually needed only a tactful word from him to dispel them. The letter he read now was from the daughter of the proprietor of a circus and fair that proposed to visit the village of Lullingfold in a few days' time; she was requesting that her father should be allowed to rent a waste portion of land near the village, owned, as was most of the surrounding territory, by Lady Parling. "To discuss matters more fully," the letter concluded, "I will call on you this morning at 11 o'clock." Ronald glanced at the clock. It showed live minutes to the hour.

"Well, aunt," he said, with a cheerful smile, "what are you gping. to dp about it? You'll have to see the girl, and as you never use that bit of land,, why .not. let them hire it?' Lady Parling stared at him in amazement. "Ronald, are you madTDo you imagine I'm going to allow some gipßy girl to talk mc into letting her pitch her father's booths and stalls on my land, turning historic soil into a common fair ground*' The villagers may enjoy swinging dizzily on a roundabout, or making themselves giddy in a swing, but I am not of their tastes."

Ronald heard her and-nodded, though he did not agree with her sentiments. "But you'll see this girl, won't you!" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I'll see this gipsy person. These people must be taught their place." The young man, who knew that in most things his aunt was the soul of generosity, remained silent. But her consent to see the girl pleased him more than he cared to show. The prospect of a girl caller created a bright patch in the uneventful morning that stretched before him. At that moment the library door opened and a servant announced Miss Phyllis Wentworth. "Show her in," said Lady Parling, a little grimly. - Ronald retired to a window aeat and prepared to watch the proceedings with disinterested eyes. With studied indifference, he picked up a magazine, lit a cigarette, and stretched his long legs more comfortably along the seat. Stealing a glance at his aunt., he saw. that she was sitting bolt upright, with lips compressed, her whole manner boding ill for the reckless "gipsy girL" I Directly the door opened and the visitor walked calmly, towards his aunt's desk, Ronald knew that his role would be far from that of an impartial observer.

Here was no "common gipsy" that his aunt had anticipated* but a distinctly pretty and easy-mannered girl of about •twenty-one,-who, now that she was speaking, proved to be possessed of a. cultivated voice and a charm of manner that told of good breeding. "Great Scott!" murmured Ronald to himself, "the old lady is in for a tough fight if she thinks she can do the heavy mistress-of-the-manor stunt with this _i rL " j" And so it proved. Lady Parling haughtily outlined her opinio* of fairs and regretted that she could not possibly see her way to rent any of the Parling estates to such a concern.

The girl heard her decision calmly ."_tough. "Very well, Lady Parling," she said, quietly, "if those are you views, there is nothing more to be said. But I Ehould like to remind you V<xi the English fair has far older t> '«ns than your estates. Rural I'n_ .i.l was disporting in fairs and similar ontertainments before the first Parling was thought about. It is to preserve the old traditions of this form of rural entertainment that my father is thus employed. That is all. Good morning." She moved towanls the door, but not before Ronald had sprung to open it for her.

She passed through with a slight bow as she noticed him for the first time, and Ronald, guessing that his aunt would not be easy to handle just then, followed the girl. He dismissed the servant who had approached to open the front door, and in the spacious hall drew level with the visitor.

"I—l say, you know, I'd have done anything to get you the permission, but my aunt is a trifle—er—decided in her views." The girl's face softened a little and she half smiled at him.

"Thank you, hut Lady Parting's mind seems to be made up. We shall have to find some other spot." "Oh, I do hope you succeed, Miss— Miss Wentworth. If you do, I shall certainly pay a visit if I may." The girl laughed and turned away. Ronald watched her as she walked down the drive. At the gate she turned, and on an impulse he waved his hand. She smiled, went pink, and half raised a small gloved hand in response. Ronald nearly shouted aloud, but instead, in turning back, quite failed to see the top step and landed heavily in the arms of the conveniently placed butler.

"Pm sorry, Jenks," he gasped. 'T was seeing a lady off." "Yes,, sir, I saw the —ay/* replied Jenks, enigmatically. There was a world of understanding In his voice. . .*.• few days later Ronald thought it safe to mention the matter aeain. 'T. sec that the fair people are installed in Hodge's meadow," he said, casually, at luncheon. ' % i Lady Parling dissected a peach with apparent indifference. *T suppose Hodge doesn't mind what happens to his land. I hope the villagers have the good sense to stay away." "They havent, Pm afraid." Ronald grinned at the recollection. "They were having a pretty noisy time there last night, I just peeped in to see what the show was like. It's cmite • respectable display and !■ attracting

a decent class. I spotted the Bronsons on the roundabout and old Marlow trying his hand at hoop-la." His aunt sniffed, but it was not a very aggressive sniff. The subject was dropped and Ronald breathed quickly with relief. He did not want his aunt to know that he was spending every evening at the fair, specialising on the cocoanuts, y f or it was at this stall that Phyllis officiated.

Neither did he want her to know yet that he had taken to waiting for the fair to close in order to see the girl to her rooms.

It was in doing this that he had made the acquaintance of Major Wentworth, an ex-officer who had lost his money in the war and had hit upon his present scheme as a means of livelihood. So, for the next fortnight, Ronald continued to visit the fair in secret, making a pretence of shying at the cocoanuts, and then dallying with Phyllis until the fair closed.

One afternoon, Lady Parling intimated that he would not be wanted, as she intended going out to pay a few calls. Would she have the car? She would not; she was not going far. Whereupon Ronald decided) that his time could not be spent more profitably than in Hodge's meadow. "And where is her ladyship?" "asked Phyllis, after they had greeted. Ronald explained. "You know, dear," she went on, "I simply don't know what she will say when you tell her we are about to be married. The heir to the Parling estates will be cut off with the proverbial shilling. She still thinks we are half gipsies—an ill-educated, badly-bred family. How are you going to approach her?" A slight cloud had settled on Ronald's face. "Blest if I know at the moment. She might cut up awfully rough. Of course, I can work for my living like anybody else, but for a long time I couldn't earn enough to keep you as I should want." Her smile rewarded him. "Never mind, dear, 111—" "What the deuce —'." Ronald's astonished voice interrupted her. Following his gaze she saw an amazing spectacle. From where they stood the chief roundabout was plainly visible. It had just reached its greatest speed, and the blaring music was playing a dance tune at double time. As the horses and cars tore round, something caught her attention. At first sight it appeared to be a purple balloon resting on one of the horses. Gradually, as the speed lessened, the vision became discernible.

It was an old lady in a purple silk dress, sitting side-saddle on a wooden horse, revealing shamelessly her white petticoat" and shrieking with delight and excitement as the steed sped round. Phyllis gasped.

It was Lady Parling enjoying the roundabout with all the zest of a dairymaid!

Ronald, quick to seize an advantage, hurried forward in time to lift his erx> ing aunt from her precarious position. Her face was~ flushed, her eyes sparkling, her hat -was a little awry and showing white whisps of hair that bestowed a rakish appearance upon her superior featuresRonald set his face in mock" severity and spoke as sternly as the humour of the situation would permit. "Aunt!" he gaaped. "I—l'm shocked! Pained! Grieved! That I should be called upon to lift Lady Parling from a most undignified, not to say indelicate, perch on a common roundabout! After all you have eaid about turning historic land into a common fair ground,' I happen to look' in casually, this* afternoon to find you »supporting with your presence the very people who commit such vandalism. If the proprietors Were gentle folk I could understand it, but several times I have heard you term them "ill-bred gipsies.'* i Here Ronald forsook his heavy rhetoric and winked.

"Gad, aunt, if only you could have seen yourself perched up there—" An ill-represse_ chuckle finished • his sentence.

But she was unperturbed. ""My dear Ronald, that's the finest experience I know. I*take back all I said about these people and their fairs.' Upon my word, I have never enjoyed myself so much before. Major Wentworth has been most kind. He showed mc all round the place and "helped mc to win this at hoop-la." She held up a doll with a shock of yellow hair, i "Finally he coaxed mc to go on this roundabout. I did, as you saw. And I'm going on again. It's perfectly devastating." At this moment Phyllis appeared and the old lady seized upon her at once. "My dear girl," she said, still breathing a little heavily, "I must apologise for my rudeness the other morning. You were quite right. These entertainments should not be allowed, to fall from favours And why did you not tell mc that your father was Major Wentworth? I knitted socks for him during the war. But he, good man, bears mc no malice; he has even accepted my invitation to supper, and perhaps you will join us." That night Ronald took his* aunt aside and explained his engagement. She was kindly and encouraging. "Splendid, Ronald. Pve always thought that a young man like you deserved a better fate than being an old woman's runabout."

And so during supper occurred the first public announcement of Ronald's engagement. "But, Lady Parling, 1 * put In Major Wentworth, afterwards, "what made you visit our little show to-day?" "My dear Major, I had had my suspicions for some time that Ronald was frequenting the fair. Something a maid reported to mc this morning confirmed them."

"What was that?" said three voices, simultaneously. "Oh, only that she had found thirtynine "cocoanuts beneath his bed!"

Treading oh the rotten covering of a disused well, a two-year-old Battle (Susses.) boy, named Arthur Hewson, fell 50 feet Into 30 feet ot water while playing In. the garden. The alarm was given, and the father, who was working close by, .was lowered down tbe well, and the child, who was crying loudly and beating the water with his hands in an effort to keep afloat, was rescued..