New Love

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 143, 20 June 1938, Page 17

New Love

Short Story ::: By

MOLLY BRAND looked at her reflection in the long mirror, and turned slowly; a touch here and there and she was at last satisfied that her coat hung correctly, that her fur framed her face in the most becoming way. Nothing wrong with her figure anyway; nor with her small, slender feet — but —a little reluctantly, she pulled the hanging lamp quite low and ruthlessly pu-hed Ixick the shade. In the unkind I glare of the bared light she scrutinised her face with the utmost care. Here and there she could trace the pattern of the years; a little sagging, a tiny wrinkle; too pale, with lips I merging into the colour of her ekin. instead of being warmly ted. Rummaging in the drawer, she found a pot of rouge and a lipstick, ami made I use of them very discreetly, looking rather like a schoolgirl pretending to Ibe grown up. She wasn’t used to them, ami hadn't the deft ways of tin' I moderns —a lick here and a pat there. Dan didn't approve cosmetics, but to-night she felt she was I justified, especially as she saw how great was the improvement, for to-night Dan was coming home at last and she wanted to look her very best. While she pulled on her new white gloves she glanced once more at Dan's letter. “I don't suppose you've still got that jollv little brown hat I liked so much, but get one like it, there's a dear. 111 be with you about 7.30 and well go I out to dinner. We won't be bothered with cooking and washing up on our first night together again.” No. she certainly hadn't got the brown hat —how like a man'. —Dun had been away over a year, but she thought he would like the one she had chosen with filch care and deliberation. The assistant had said it was "most becoming, mmlolom,” and took ten years oil' her

Still toying with those little last minute touches that make such a world of difference, and frequently cause i women to be late for their appointments. Molly wondered if Dan would see the lines that were growing more : noticeable round her eyes and mouth. And what would he be like after so long in Baris? Would he find her dull now, because she had stayed quietly in her own home, just waiting for him? Fascinating little French girls! How could Molly hold her own with them? She sighed" as she thought of the gulf of years lx>tween her and Dan. Ever since her husband had left her for good Molly had given herself wholeheartedly to Dan —all her thoughts and ■ all her love and care. She had wrapped herself in him to the exclusion of everyone else, finding in him the happiness and affection she had mi-sed in the hard ami difficult years with Arthur Brand. Now she wondered for the first time if she had been wholly wise in her selfless thought for him. This year alone had taught her how empty was her life without him, and if some girl, someone frivolous, amusing, lighthearted and — more his own age—should claim him now! Could she bring herself to give him up to her if she felt that his happiness depended upon it? Till now he had always preferred her company to any other. But would that always be so? Molly feared in the depths of her heart that it could not’last for ever. The older woman must in the end give wav to the younger. 7et life without Dan at her side, without Dan to care for, cosset and contrive fur, would be —just not worth living. Fidgeting about the room, stopping by the glass to give her hat a pull, to tuck in a stray hair, Molly waited, hardly able to bear her impatience ami her eager anticipation, and as the infinitely slow-moving hand reached the quarter she drew back the blind and looked up the road for the fortieth time. He was due to arrive at any moment now.

Her anxious heart beat more quickly, and fearful grew the images in her mind of the horrid possibilities that menaced their reunion—images of accident ami sudden death. Would he never come? “Oh, hurry, hurry,” cried her heart, and it seemed to her that the very urgency of her wish would carry a message to him wherever he might be. He knew her need of him. What would he be like now? Would the months have changed him so much? Had he met anyone who could oust her from his heart? His letters, frequent and loving as they were, told her so little of his inward self, his real life, but surely she would have known—it must have crept in and made itself felt — if some other woman had conic to take her place.

A taxi swung round the corner of the road while she. stared into the lampsplashed darkness of the road, and Molly's hot fingers clutched the curtain. Was this he? No—the cab was going on—yes. it was; the driver braked suddenly and swung across the road as his passenger called out of the window so suddenly that Molly’s heart was fearful for his safety. “Oh, my dear, my dear—” she murmured—“home at last!” She was on the stairs when the bell rang—followed by a mighty rapping on • the knocker, in just the old way.

Running now. she crossed the hall, flung open the door, and welcomed him with open arms. “Darling!” Dan’s mighty arms were round’ her, and she was smothered with kisses.

“Well,” at last he held her away from him and scanned her face with anxious., loving eyes. Molly's trembling hands crept up and stroked his cheeks gently, as if to make sure he was real.

She could only nod and smile, a terrible lump in her throat stopped her speaking for a moment, and her eyes filled with tears—wonderful, soft tears of relief and joy. “Sentimental little creature,” laughed Dan and took her hinds between his huge ones. “Put that ripping little hat straight and come right along,’ he added, “the taxi’s waiting,”

There wasn't another man in the world, she felt, who would have said just that, noticed the very things she had chosen with such care and with thoughts of him —her new hat. “Oh, you dear,” she exclaimed, “but how dreadfully extravagant of you to keep the taxi.” Her first words, so commonplace, so utterly inadequate. Just one of those sillv remarks one has to make to the mail one loves best, lest a flood of foolish lovely and loving words should embarrass him —the dear, sentimental, self-conscious creature.

FLSA GODFREY

Then she laughed for sheer joy at having his great strong hand in hers again.

“Oh. it’s good to hear you laugh again.” Dan joined in. and they stood like two children. enjoying the laughter that was just an overflow of happiness.

• I’ve so often wanted you to share the fun while 1 was away. No one else understands quite as you do —our sense of humour is our greatest bond, I 'jclieve. I've missed von no end.”

Those were the wools that every foolish woman wants to hear, and hearing them, can forgive so much else, so much out of all proportion —which is xerv fortunate for some men.

Just the same. The thought thrilled through Molly. Her darling, still wanting her to laugh and play with him. •‘Come on—the taxi's tv-king.”

He turked her hand under his arm and ran her down the little path —he gave the driver the name of the restaura it. the very one where she and Dan had dined out together for the first time.

‘Oh, Dannv,” she remonstrated as he bundled her' in. ‘‘All the way? How beaut if ull v reckless! ”

‘‘Now, don't start bullying me at once, mv dear,” he protested. “Our first evening' too—there'll be plenty of timt for that later on.

‘•Now just sit close and listen while I begin to tell you all about things.’ Mollv's contribution to the conversation was perforce small but so apple,dative. She just sat opposite Dan at the little square table, and positively glowed with delight. With one masterful sweep of his hand he removed the vase of golden clutsaiithemums that stood between. Such nice hands he had—one of the things about him that Molly loved.

‘•Can't stand these things—l want to see you properly,’ - he announced. Other women looked across at her table, and Molly, sensing their envy, felt proud. ‘•He's mine,” she exulted secretly.

••And now, listen.” Dan was insisting, and Molly went on listening and smiling and nodding and saving ‘'Yes.” and ‘•No,” and •’Oh. you didn't.” at just the right moment and with the right empha-is. Till at length, as coffee was set before them, he leaned back. “(lee. I've been talking.” he laughed. "Now you tell something.” •'Well. I don’t know —there's not much to tell, dear,” she said. ‘‘l've been very quiet.”

"Too quiet. I expect.” he reproached her. “1 know you. Without me to hound von from the fireside veil’d never stir.”

‘Well, you know I'm quite happy at home.” She traced a pattern on the cloth with her linger nail ami thanked her stars she had gone to the extravagance of having a manicure that morning. Dan was frightfully particular about her hands — said they were lovely and she must not neglect them.