HER FAMILIAR FRIEND.

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 12967, 21 November 1907, Page 2

HER FAMILIAR FRIEND.

jit £. anwws. "I narer get my wife to myself Tor mora than firo minntea. Upon my word Mies Garland, Adeline Fenton is all very well in her way-nioe gurl and all that—bnt I don't want to marry her, I don't want her always here. And JS it seems that whether I- hke it or not. she is sticking to Betty like a keck It's all very well, te have an inaeparable friend, but hang it all, a fefiw likes to talk to his wife once in a while without having a third person sitting by grinning at nothing. And Jack Meldon knocked off the sshes of liis cigarette with obvious and very natural irritation. Iwm sorry for the boy—he wa» yerv little more in my elderly eyes, and had only been married ten months, more or less. A delightful couple he and Betty made. Both young, good looking, sufficiently well off, and desperately m love with each other. Not a crumpled rose-leaf until her dearest friend, Adeline Fenton, api»eared on the scene for a long, long visit to Betty. Then the mischief started and grew apace as evil things will, threatening to spoil the summer happiness of the young couple and to sow seed of distrust and impatient regret, in one heart at any rate. I had foreseen this from the first entrance of -pretty Adeline Fenton into tlie house. She usurped all her friend's time and attention to th© complete extinction of poor Jack's claims bn his wife, and his jealousy woke up suddenly. "Sho is fixed here, so I heard from Betty, for another month, at least. Good gracious, Alias Garland, I don't think I can stand it! I shall have to be rude in. my own house," he groaned. I could not help smiling at his miserable face, yet alter all this rift within the lute was quite likely to become serious. Such a small, small thing will make entrance for a quarrel. And Betty wa* young and impulsive and perhaps a little too much given to feeling quite, quite sure of Jack's patience and love. Nothing, she told mc with a shake of her pretty head, could ever niter/him. How little sho knew! "What shall Ido P" ho asked. "What can I do? Tell mc, Miss Garland. You are more ijp in these things, and Betty thinks no end of what you say." <id fL aTe a Whence," I said quietly, Hetty does hot mean anything, my dear boy. All this love and affectionate attention to her friend is natural enough. It does not really touch your Ptooe in hor heart or lifo. It is just that she has no sense of proportion just yet. It will oome, and one ot these days Betty will turn her face a little from her friend: she will want to get rid of her, in plain words. Adeline had her unrestrained confidence and love. Looking at the matter from her point of view, it is hard on her that Betty should have formed other ties which must exclude her claims. She does not mean to be excluded yet, but the law of nature will show her that ehe is attempting the impossible. You havo got the first Elace, Jack, but you have,got to recon with the impulsiveness of youth, particularly feminine youtii. Things will right themselves, only wait awhile, Jack." "It is rough lock," he muttered. "Why it is as much as I can do to whisk Betty down to the farm after breakfast, and five mornings out of seven 'Miss Fenton is upon us before we have got as far as the pigsties. Jove, here she oomes, Betty in tow I I'm off." "Wait a moment, Jack," I said, quickly. "I want to speak io yon. Wall, Betty, where are you off tor" I thought Betty looked a little disturbed. Miss Fenton's fair face was as fresh as a June rose, her arm was linked affectionately in Betty's. "Wo are going to drive with the pony down to the beach, just- Betty and I," said Miss Fenton, "and it will be like old times "before Betty was taken away from md." x , This with an arch glance at the scowling Jack, who stood there waiting. Betty looked as if there were places she -would rather go than the beach, but Miss Fenton's chatter did not allow her to get a word in edgeways. I caught a glint of reetiv-eness in Betty's blue eyes and spoke suddenly. "Are yon?" I said. "That'll be delightful, Jack, you and I must keep each other company then. What about the river? Yon can fish and I'll take my work. It'll be perfect at the big pool to-day." "Let's all go there," said Betty, hesitatingly. "We could—" "Oh, Betty! And we had settled all about our nioe little picnic—Just you and I." 'That settled it. Of course, she had her way, and the reluctant Betty was carried off by her affectionate friend, while Jack and I went up the river alone. Now this sort of thing happened with different variations several times, and the shaded deepened in Betty's blue eyes, and Jack's outbursts to mc became louder and inoi-* insistent. And still I counselled patience. We had our Toward a week or so later. Coming into the arbor set in the shade of a great yew hedge, with my work and books, intent on a quiet morning, I found Betty—Betty drowned in tears—a veritable Niobe. "Why, Betty, dear," I said, aghast. "Is anything so very wrong P" "Why do you take Jack away from | mc always, Miss Garland," she de- j manded. I hid a smile, the child seemed so desperately earnest. "Why does Miss Fenton always take you away from Jack?" I returned. She was silent for a moment in pure wonderment, then a slow 6mile came into her tear-stained cheeks. "I—l ought not have said what 1 did," she said penitently, "but I have been so miserable, Jack and I never have any nice walks and chats together, and you were always with him. And I wish Adeline would go. She— she is beginning to bore mc. I don't believe Jack likes her, either, and she was always jealous of him, jealous because I married him.". "That's just it, my dear Betty. She tries to take up Jack's place—the place only he can fill in your life now— and Jack naturally doea not like it. He, too, hasn't been happy, Betty. He thinks he never gets you to himself. Don't you think Miss Fenton has been here lonp enough? You have other duties. .She cannot expoct your undivided attention forever." "I know, but she can't ace it. And I wish, I do wish, ahe would go. Perhaps if I say—l must- say something." "Say something to Jack first," 1 said, with a smile, 'Iseehimooming." She flew to meet him like a bird to her nest. They lingered in the shadowy alley for a long, long time, and when they emerged, he with his arm around her waist, I heard him say: "Well go away for a little honeymoon, just yon and I. sweetheart, and dear old Garland will stay here and ■ look after the chickens. I know her. She's only got to be asked. And sho had. It was at dinner that night that the seoond honeymoon trip was mentioned i with intention. Betty, in a pink drees, looked across the table at her smiling Jack, and Miss Fenton grow strangely silent. Perhaps she understood at last and I could not kelp feeling tarry for her. She, left three days later—left with affection and mingled regret, but it was Jack who heaved a long sigh of relief when the last of her trunks had been carried out and the trim figure in the dogcart vanished from sight. Betty KM his own once moro.