SHORT STORY

Lake County Press, Issue 2185, 5 September 1907, Page 7

SHORT STORY

Her Revenge,

By G. B. BURGIN.

.A-i u of “-Old Man’s ’ Marriage.” ’’ L.utunc’s Footballs,” &c.

LCOTVRIGHT.J * Cor eluded from last week. At a quarter past eleven, as the last lady's maid disappeared, the subeditor repeated the formula of the preceding week, crumpled up his “pars.” and sent them down to the printer. After lunch he would sally forth to a club and there ascertain the feeling of his fellow-creatures in reference to Lord Vipont’s forthcoming marriage, an item which even the Daily Sludge ” would have given the editorial cars to obtain, big they were. In the meantime he hoped the lair Lnknowu would be punctual. I here was something very piquant in hot \ oice; she seemed far above her position; and it suddenly dawned upon him that it was his duty as a conscientious sub-editor to convert her before roaming so far away from his present sphere of usefulness as to hunt for Lascars who, at the best, were comparatively torpid until they had a knife in one’s ribs. Whilst still indulging in a pleasing reverie on this important subject, the office boy ushered in the closely-veiled object ol his thoughts, who somewhat nervously extended her hand and wished iiim a timid good morning. “All London's talking about it," sh;

said nervously. “ People discussed nothin# else at Church Parade yesterday. At least, so 1 am told. They say Archie Vipont is furious.”

“ Why r ” asked the editor in bewilderment. “ What's the matter with him? Didn't he want it to be known? lie ought to he aware by this time that he is common property, and that it’s all for his good.” “ Ah, but I'm afraid he isn't aware of it,”' said the Lair Unknown in a whisper. “Besides, it—it isn't true!” “Isn’t true?” asked the sub-editor in amazement. “ You told me it was.”

“ Yes, but 1 t —t —t —old a lie,” said the Fair Unknown, visibly agitated. “ Oh, well, you aren't the first of your sex who has done that,” philosophically retorted the sub-editor. “ I

suppose we shall have to insert a contradiction. it’s been done before now. Besides, it will keep the ball rolling'.” “YYes,e —es, but it —it won't do,” said the Fair Unknown, limply. “Won't do? Why notr” “ He’s c—c —coming' down here to—t—! ”

“Ah, yes, 1 have had other people down here to ! ”

“ Bui lie's bringing' a horsewhip.” “ Ah—li, that’s nice,” said the subeditor, with a jubilant air. ** It was really growing- monotonous here. iSu exercise at all.”

“ Well, you’ll get plenty presently,” declared the Fair Unknown. The sub-editor struck a little hell. “ If Lord Vipont calls, show him in here at once/’ he said to the office boy. Then he turned to the Fair Unknown, with an air of animation totally different from his usual somewhat listless manner. “ When do you expect him ?”

"In it few minutes.” The sub-editor looked dubiously round. “I wonder whether there s room,” he said, moving a couple of chairs into the opposite corner. " i'll just close this desk, and then there can’t be any lurniture spoilt. One must be economical nowadays even in one s amusements. Hadn’t you better go ? if you have any items 111 write them down now, as i may not be able to do so after this forthcoming interview.”

The sub-editor felt that the girl regarded him admiringly. "No, Til stay,’ she said, with a tremor in tier voice. “i in responsible ior tins little ” bhe hesitated tor a word. "Fracas?” asked the sub-editor cheerfully, as he felt his biceps, and squared his shoulders. "What we want in everyday life is a little more reality. We’re too much given to dreaming. Thu savage in us doesn't get a chance. Just a few rounds, and 1 shall be ever so much better, i’m growing very puddeuy. it clears one s drain so.”

“ i thought.” hazarded the Fair Unknown, " that you wanted to be a clergyman.”

“ So 1 do,” said the sub-editor buoyantly. "My dear girl, have you never heard of the church militant?” And he jubilantly plunged his fist into the eye of an imaginary opponent.

ihe girl shuddered as a manly step was heard on the stairs. “Here he comes,” she cried, with a shiver. “ 1 know his step.” “ You wouldn’t like to go out? ” enquired the sub-editor. “ You can stay on the landing if you like till it’s all over. There’s a little door here.” “ No. th—thank you.” said the Fair Unknown. " Some fatal fascination forces me to remain. It is my fault, though. Remember that.”

“ Nonsense,” said the sub-editor as the door angrily opened. “ It’s a subrisk. 1 wish there were more of them.”

A tall, bronzed young- man ca no quickly into the room, holding- a cm y of “ Top Lights ” in his hand. “ Good morning,” he said, quietly, as if endeavouring to repress any traces of excitement, but switching his legominously with a light, cutting whip. Pei haps you will bo good enough to infoun me who is responsible for this paragraph : ’ and he pointed to the one about Lord Archie Vipont’s impending marriage. Certainly,” said the sub-editor, cheerfully. “ 1 am. Anything wrong about it?”

about it !” ejaculated the y.-oug man, rapidly beginning to lose

all sdf-cnntrnl. “It's a pared nf lies from beginning to eml.’’ “How so? Aren’t you going to n>: rrv Miss Massimrlnn ? ’’ •‘No sir, 1 am not! And it's none :,f your infernal business if I were. 1 don’t mind about that one bit. ’ Theyyo n;;' man stopped as if he had been shot, and bit his lips with waation.

“ May 1 ask what it is you object to? !! suavely enquired the sub-editor. “ As I said before, it’s no business of yours, but it's the last half of the paragraph. I don’t believe it. Now, will you retract, or—” and the whip bewail to swish ominously. “ No, I don’t think so,” cheerfully replied the sub-editor. “ You see, we should look such fools if wc admitted we’d made a mistake.” “ Then I’ll give you the worst rashing- you ever had in your life,” said the young man. “ Thanks, I’m not feeling- inclined to be thrashed just now,” was the cool reply. And the light began. It only terminated because want of condition began to tell on the sub-editor. He made a valiant struggle, but his visitor had thews of iron and sinews of steel. So it came to pass that the sub-editor found himself jammed down on the lioor, whilst Lord Archie felt round tor the whip, which lie had dropped during the scuffle. “Apologise,” cried Lord Archie, as his lingers grasped the whip. “ I’ll be hanged if 1 —” The whip was raised ominously and about to descend on the sub-editor’s form (he had taken off his spectacles before the combat began) when the I air Unknown shrieked, rushed out horn her corner, and wrested the whip away from the muscular youth.

'• Let him alone, Archie. Let him alone,” she cried passionately. “It was all my doing*. 1 wanted to show vou I didn't care.”

The sub-editor look advantage of the dramatic pause which ensued to get up and dust himself. “ Floor isn't as good as it might be,” he said, cheerfully. “if you’ll excuse me I’ll go out on the lauding* until I’m wanted.” lie took a chair and went out. The youth remained gazing* at the floor with growing* embarassment. “Vou, Constance, you!” was all he said, but there was a world of re-

preach in his tones. The Fair Unknown's veil had come off. There were tears in her exquisite eyes, but none in her voice. “ I—l1 —1 did it,” she said.

“ What for?” asked the young- man, making' a step toward her. “ Horsewhip me first and Fll tell you,” she breathed. “ Do, please, do. i want to be horsewhipped.” The young man threw down the whip with an inarticulate cry. “ For heaven's sake, Constance, tell me- the meaning of this mad freak.” ** i— l —oh, Archied ” And the floodgates were opened. “ What did you do it for? ” he askc ’ when the agony had abated. ** You were so p—p —roud, and I—l wanted to make it up,” she said. “ 1 thought it would rouse you.” J.ord Archie went to the door. Mr. Editor ? ”

“ iNo, no; you do me 100 much honour,” said the sub-editor, looking' up from his writing pad. “ I'm only a sub. Just throw me out my spectacles.”

“ Will you have the goodness to come in, accept my apology, and make a correction in that paragraph to which 1 referred just now?"' “ With pleasure/' said the subeditor; "it's all ‘copy/ you know?” • 1 Just alter the name to Lady Constance llammerslcy and drop out the consolation business; that’s all.” The sub-editor did it. “ Tin afraid you've imposed upon me.” he said, benignantly regarding Lady Constance. “ Nothing but your youth and—and your charm of manner could possibly excuse you.” Lady Constance gave him her hand. “ You are the kindest man in the world.”

"' I don’t want to be offensive,” said Lord Archie, radiant with happiness, “ but can’t i do anything for you, you know? i’m beastly rich.” , ‘‘And Tin beastly poor,” said me sub-editor, cheerfully. “ There’s one favour I’d like to ask of you, though.” “Name it,” they said eagerly. “ if you’d let me keep that whip, it will serve for a reminder when I’m getting Soft. I’ve had enough of this business, in the parlance of our classical nineteenth century drama, ‘ I’m going to chuck it.’ ” And he did. Possibly he might have blossomed out as a full-fledged editor some day; but, strangely enough, he is attending to Lord Archie’s colliers up in the North and “ braining on ” for the Church. If he carries out his intention he will probably be the first curate who ever carried off first prize for a bull pup at a local show. And he is no longer “ soft,” but can throw a coal-heaver in a wrestling bout with ease. Curiously enough, he is recognised by his Northern friends, who know nothing of the past, as “ Top Lights ” owing to a habit he has of pushing his spectacles back when about to enforce arguments of any kind. If his spectacles are thrust high on his forehead, people always know that “ Top Lights ” means business, and get out of the way accordingly. [The End.]