A LOVE-MAKING LESSON.

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 12824, 7 June 1907, Page 2

A LOVE-MAKING LESSON.

:—»' ', .. . ■ '. By ADELAIDE HURST. "It's awfully good of you to «cc mc, Mi« Murray." "Nat a bit of i*. To tei you the truth, it's no* my goodness at .all, but Jane's." "I —I came to hare a ohai with you, yon know, and I—Fm gi»d to find you alone," eacd Diok. "Ye-esP" < 'It's about my new story," explsined Wartwrton, dimdendy. '■Ytn," continued the author with in- ] creasing confidence, "it'll be the best j story I have erer written—if you'll ( help mc." " I - "I don't iroderetand." ! "Wfll you oollaborate with mc, Mies j Murray ?" " . I "1?" Ethel opened her blue eyes in welßeigned amaaeinen-t. "lieaifly, Mr VVarburtoa." , i "Mis 3 Murray, you, with the expen- I enoe you have toad, oould do so much for mc. You see., it » like this," explainod Wai-burton, eagerly "a man i has got to ask a girl to be his wife, an <i » "I don't see the necessity," inter- | ruptod hie companion, j "I am speaking of tiho bfraraotere in , my new book," returned the author, 1 with some dignity, "but, of couroe, if you refuse to tree* the subject seriouily » "I beg your pardon. Please go on; | I won't interrupt again. . I "Well, then, as-I eadd before, tlhe ! man lias got to propose to the girl, : and I want your adinoe ac to how he's ! going to db it." ' The girl knit her brows in per- j plexity. , , i "Such a lot depends on how long they've known each other," elhe said at last. "Are they old friends, alnd has eho seen it coming?' , to tha»t, I don't think I've made up my mind yet." "How extraordinary! Then you've not really begun the story at aM!" "Oh, yes, that is, I—tfm busy collecting material, thuaking out shroag situations and all that kind of thing, you kinow. If's—it's ra-ther difficult to explain." "Oh, I see. Of course it's stupid of mc, but, do you know, I don't pretend to understand anything about writing books. I only asked question because, you ccc, the way a man pro* poses depends very much on whether or not bee an old friend of tlhe lady's." "Ye-esP" There was deferentail inquiry in the author's tone and look. 'Tee, of course it, does. Now, for instance, supposing he's merely a reoent acquaintance, Ethel wen* on ac one propotMidimg the wiedom of ages, "he's almost sure to introduce the subject with some each remark as: Isn't it strange, Mus Jones, that you and I Mem to- be guiite old fWemd&P" or 'Somehow, Miss Jonea, I feel aa though I had known you all my HfeP Of oourse, after that, Miss Jones will know what to expect etod oan act accordingly." "Aot accordingly?" "Now, if Mass Jones ie a thnid, nervous sort of peison, and doesn't like to cay 'No' poimt blank, dheß very likelyv murmur something; about its being so sudden—the comic papers are quite right there, you know—and a&oui never having thought of him to that light, and all sort* of thing*, and shell probably end by asking ham to give her time to oonader: sad en the following day shell write him a pretty little note to the effect that deeply as it pains her to say it, and so on. That's £he favourite way of doing: it because it's the easiest. Om the other hand, she may prefer to. get the affair over and done with at onoe, in which case—— M ■ ■ •' "But," protmted Warbu-rton, "mmposing she wamte to aot»Dt nhe man,?" "In which case," oonitinued . BtheL ignoring the interruption-, "aheTJ tefl him quite frankly and simply that she can't marry him because she doesn't love him." - "Don't tell mc she'll promise to be a sister to him I" exclaimed the author apprehensively. . "She might," replied Ethel guarded* ly, "if she's a very ordinary sort of person. You see, it's not bo simple as it sounds to .refuse a man." "Well, never mind about the refusals. What I want to get at is " "Then there's -the case of two people who are old friends," Miss Murray went on hurriedly. "That makes a froposal so much more complicated. ' n the first place, it'll take the man ' much longer to come to the point, and ' the girl will know how to ward off < the crisis in all sorts of ways, and then, ; when he does come to the point, she'll < find it rather troublesome to convince him that her answer is final. Of course," added the speaker thoughtfully, '/"that applies to the cdmparative stranger as well. Men always do seem hard to convince that a woman's 'No , doesn't mean 'Yes' F" "But supposing it is 'Yes'P" Miss -Murray looked innocently mystified. ,f You see, what I am really anxious to know," explained the author, with some diffidence, "is how a woman would accept, not reject, an offer of marriage." "Oh/ , said Ethel, in the tone of one who had never considered that side of the question. "I'm afraid I can't be of much help to you there I" "Don't say that, Miss Murray." "If you remember, Mr Warburton," said his companion, slowly, "you asked for the benefit of my 'large experience , ; those were your very words." ,"I believe they were," he admitted. "Very well, then," continued Ethel, with great deliberation, "my experienco is limited to refusals.' 1 "You mean you have never accoptlor " I "Never!" replied Miss Murray ; flrmlv. "I'm delighted to hear it." • ; Mr Warburton!" "I—l moan I'm sorry," indeed." "Oh. thank you." "I —I beg your pardon. I didn't mean that either. Of course, I— naturally, I'm disappointed. I had hoped iso much from your help. Don't you think. Miss Murray, you could imagine an offer of marriage which it would be posible for you to accept P" The author had risen from his chair and was looking down on his companion with an expression on his face that was new to her. For a moment Ethel returnd his < gaze, then her blue eyes sank before his. ''Do yon think you could imagine I such nn offer?" he repeated softly. Ethel's lips parted in a little stnilo. I "It's very difficult." she whispered, nith rrimconing.cheeks; "it's very difficult to accept an imaginary offer of marriage." "Ethel!" he cried, seising her hands impetuously. "Do you mean—do you mean—■*--" «. ''The question is," said Ethel, demurely—"the question is, what do you moan ?" "That I love you—that I wa»t you to be my wife! Ethel, won't you sey 'Yes.' this time?" "For the sake of the story? ,, 'Tor my own sake, darling! Bother the etory!" "Tor the cake of the etory," she repeated mischievously, "Dick. I've half a mind—for the sake of the story—, you know—to say Tee.'"