FURTHER FOOLISHNESS.

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

FURTHER FOOLISHNESS.

Dan was frowning and bit his lip. He knew so well her shrinking from the neighbours, her sensitiveness lest they should learn about her unfortunate marriage. He had realised long since that she blamed herself— quite without grounds—-for its failure. She believed that had she been stronger, more patient, more loving —just different in some way —the weakness that lurked beneath her husband’s eharm would never have gained the mastery. And of this her failure she was ashamed and feared the gossiping of women nodding their heads oxer tea trays, discussing her behind her back —a wife without a husband. She saw his look and steered to another and safer topic. “Dan, there's a new play I want to see. I'm going to take you to it next week. I've booked scats.”

The smile came back to her eyes and she made plans with the eager zest of a child, till Dan laughed at her.

“Your enthusiasm is marvellous,” ho dialled; “anyone would think you had never seen a play before. And I just love it.” he added. “That’s one of the things about you that makes you different and the best of pals. Just look round here and tell me how many girls there are who have your joy of life. They've had all the thrills they can get, and what have they left? Just nothing, ami they’re bored stiff in consequence. Whereas you could find a thrill in walking up the road to the letter box, I do believe.”

Molly looked round at his bidding. Plucked eyebrows, painted lips and artificial roses everywhere. Faces like uniforms —identical and just as lacking in individuality.

Ami Molly fully believed that every one of their owners would take Dan from her if they could. She bristled and glared at the slim, well-groomed young things, with whom the world was. fo>- her peace of mind, overpopulated.

Yet, even as she was about to agree with Dan’s sweeping, scorn, her eyes rested on a girl who stood in the doorway scanning the room as if in search of someone.

For a moment their eyes met—the eyes of the woman who had suffered at life's hands, and the eyes of the girl who waited on the threshold for what the years should bring her. Then Molly saw the little start, the gradual change from perplexity to relief, saw the girl’s eyes smile before her young red lips parted. She had the temeritv to smile at

"Who's that ?” she asked quickly. "In t'.ie doorway.” Dan looked up. "Why." he was half out of his chair. "It's Jenny—a girl I met in Paris. I must just speak to her a minute.’’ He was gone, and Molly- sat alone, staling at the vision of the years to i ome. when she would be alone. She had known it would be like this —she could not hold him because she was too old. In <1 flash, as she had seen the look in Dan's eyes —she had known that he was m> longer wholly hers. But as she forced herself to watch them talking there by the door, a little ~ced of comfort was planted in her liea rt.

Jenny's eyes were clear and honest. It would be for his happiness if she -hould lose him to someone like this. Something told her she might lose Dan. and yet keep him still. With a girl like Jenny he would be faithful to the old ideals and would still have room in his life for her. even if it were not the first place, and she. must learn to be content with that, as all old people must learn. In the quality of his love would be something that he could never give even to Jenny, something that was hers alone.

“Dulling. Jenny's missed her friends, so she's going to join us. You don't mind, do you?” Molly wanted to cry out that it was too much, .in their fiist evening together after so long—so many weary, lonely months. She wanted to beat herself against the Fate that had brought this girl here on this night of

But as she looked up into the two young, eager and glowing faces, she 'oftened, and held out her hand to Jennv.

■ "I'll be very glad,” she said, almost convincing even herself that she was glad because it was for Dan's pleasure that, she sacrificed her happiness, and smiled in doing it. ‘ Jenny,’’ Dan was saying, “this is my mother."