AN AUSTRALASIAN LOVE STORY.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXV, Issue 16564, 30 May 1914, Page 5

AN AUSTRALASIAN LOVE STORY.

(By ETHEL B. BEAUCHAMP.)

(All Rights Reserved.)

The sky was blue (Now Zealand's blue), the sea was more blue still, and little flirtish waves tumbled merrily on to the gravelly beach as Mr Seville's camping party enjoyed their lunch by the seashore. It was a small and select camping party, most select, otherwise Mr Seville would not have been there I It consisted of Mr Seville and his

wife, his son Jack and Jack's friend, Maltby, a clever but otherwise undistinguished artist, his daughter Gladys and three, of her University chums, all charming girls, whose fathers held influential city positions; there was also a stout and prosy member of Parliament and his wife, their two sons, and a nephew; last, but not least, as far as general opinion was concerned, there was Vera Ilivett, who enjoyed the unenviable position of Mrs Seville's com-panion-help. Mrs Seville upbraided herself a dozen times a day for having brought tho girl, but as Vera was there she would ■ have to stay till their month's camping was over.

She had engaged the girl upon a wealthy friend's recommendation as a suitably entertaining companion and help for. herself and Gladys on their Now Zealand Sounds trip. As a help Mrs Seville had found the girl all to be desired, and as a companion Gladys thought Vera charming. That was just it! She was too charming! Mrs Seville miserably told herself this every time her eyes rested on Vera Rivett's happy face. 1 The unfortunate lady had planned this trip solely that her daughter and the member of Parliament's eldest son might lose their hearts to each other; but, after a week of glorious days and still more dreamy evenings, this seemed very far off indeed, for Georgo Mavis had devoted himself entirely to Vera; not that Gladys minded! The angry mother almost shed tears when she confided her fears to her pompous husband: "The dear child." she said, " is absolutely content to admire ,this new scenery as long as there is any daylight, and when there isn't she writes foolish little verses about it or plays that horrid wailing violin of hers to Maltby as he lies stretched at her feet. Oh I it is all disgusting, horrid !"

" Never mind, my dear, never mind," Mr Seville said, soothingly. " Gladys is a child yet, and that jolly little Miss Rivett cannot do much harm in a "month!"

_ Mrs Seville eyed her husband in silent disgust for several seconds.

" You have no consideration whatever for my foelings," she snapped. " My dear——" that gentleman protested in an injured tone. " Then," Mrs Seville said, eagerly seizing an opportunity she had hoped for, "let us cut short this camping and return to Picton to-night I" "My dear," Mr Seville said, more firmly this time, "I will see!"

This conversation had taken place

just before lunch, and now, although everyone else had stroll/d away on different expeditions, the hostess still sat gloomily beside her impromptu bush luncheon table. At last she looked hurriedly about for Vera.

The girl was not far away; she was making; quaint little baskets out of bidibidis, and Jack, that he might more closely observe the intricate operation, was supporting one of Vera's small tanned hands in both his shapely brown ones.

The angry colour rushed to the watching woman's face, for she quite realised that Jack, with a full snare of his admirable sister's foolishness, was doing his utmost to cut short George Mavis's fascination for Vera. Mrs Seville half angrily called the girl to her now to help dear away the luncheon dishes. "Let me help, I love washing dishes!" Jack cried, boyishly. "Me too!" Mavis entreated. Vera turned to them with some smiling remark, and in doing so she caught the expression on Mrs Seville's face. " I would far rather," the girl said, earnestly, as she bent to collect some dishes, " do this alone." "Oh 1 I say, it's far too much for you, Vera," Jack said. "My dear Jack," his mother said, " Miss Rivett is qtiito right in washing to do this alone; she is also sensible enough to take a pleasureable interest in what she is paid to do!" It was a foolish speech; M ra Seville realised that as she saw the angry colour overspread her son's face, and the haughty look that curled the girl's usually tender lips. George Mavis rather sheepishly walked away. " If you will let me help you, Miss Rivett, Jack said, quietly, "I should love to." " Thanks, awfully, Jack!" she said, while for an instant the old, roguish lights flitted across her eyes; "but I can do it much quicker alone." " All right," he said, almost in his usual careless tone, " only I'm going fishing when you have finished; will you and mother come?" The elder lady's face assumed a dull reel shade. " Thanks, no!" she said, coldly, and was sorry the moment she had said it, for Vera in a perfectly unabashed manner signified her intention of going. "Then I'll be waiting round the headland," Jack said, and walked whistling round the rocks. The moment her son was safelv out of sight,_ Mrs Seville, pleading headache, retired to her tent, leaving Vera to wash the luncheon dishes alone. It was a huge untidy array and would take her an hour to finish alone, and rebellious tears sprang to the girl's eyes as she surveyed the wreck of the finished luncheon. " Anyhow, it's what Im paid to do!" she said to herself, with a tiny whimsical smile. "I was a little fool to ever come—l hate_ work—but if I hadn't struck a horrid old silly like Mrs Seville to take me it would have been lovely. " Oh! these glorious hills I I'll hate ! to ever leave them. Never mind, though, it's all experience." So say- ; ing sho rolled up the sleeves of her elegant silk shirt-waist, and began with | a will to scrape, wash' and put away j the dishes. They were finished at last; and then Mr* Seville called "Miss Rivett!" I Vera walked leisurely towards the ! direction from where the voice came. "Yes," she said pleasantly, as she lifted the flap of Mrs Seville's tent. The lady looked up with a pathetic smile; she was in the midst of packing her camp baggage and articles of clothing strewed the small boarded floor. Mis 3 Rivett, I would like you to help me finish packing; the mosquitoes have tormented me so during this week's camping that I have persuaded Mr Seville to have the things packed on board and to start for Picton this evening." "Yes," Vera said, rather drearily, for Picton did not appeal to her very strongly just then, and she had hoped to spend the rest of the afternoon fishing. ,

" We will sleep on the yacht to-night and reach Picton midday to-morrow,'' Mrs Seville said.

" I see," Vera replied, as she began packing sheets and blankets in a tin trunk. " And are- you going to stay m Picton all the time?"

I Mrs Seville threw up her plump hands. "My dear Miss Rivett! Stay three weeks in that fearful place! No; we will make the ' Terminus' our headquarters for a week and probably take excursions in the yacht each day: but after that Gladys, yourself and I will return to Sydney (here Mrs Seville blushed a little), as our friends are compelled to leave us sooner than we expected, and Mr Seville and my son will return a month later." " I see," Vera said again. " And is Mr Maltby coming too? His studio is in Sydney, is it not?" "He? I hope not! That exceptionally foolish young man!" " I think him very nice," Vera said stoutly. "Really!" was all the irate elder lady would trust herself to say after her former foolish remark. The company, with the exception of the hostess, seemed in excellent spirits as they ate their dinner on the yacht that evening. Vera was quite the centre of attraction ; she had never felt, nor looked, quite as she looked then, a sparkling, bewildering creature in her exquisitely simple evening gown. She looked young, too, beyond her years in the softlyclinging white silk with a red, warmlyglowing spray of rata flowers fastened at her waist and in her dark fluffy hair. Later, Vera took her banjo on deck and, ensconced in a deck-chair with crimson cushions, she sang; sang while the stars twinkled softly in the deep blue overhead, and their reflections blinked back at them from the deeper blue of the 6ea below: sang gay, sparkling little French and English ballads, while the company applauded her and implored her to go on. Jack, his great length stretched on a rug, lay at her feet.

! There was a painedj wondering expression on his brown boyish face as he looked up at her. Vera played on. The young crescent moon dipped and sank beyond the hills, the waters and the great surrounding hills grew darker and the stars shone irore brilliantly than before. Then tho music changed; Vera changed; she played more slowly; a note, as of lon°;ng, crept into her voice, and as she sang her face grew older-looking, more tender, and Jack, looking up at her. felt glad with a new and wonderful happiness. Two by tivo tho company drifted away. Down at the stern Gladys and Maltby were leaning over the rail.

Vera sang on more slowly still. Then she suddenly laid down her banjo beside her.

Jack sat up quickly as she did so, and they looked deep into each other's eyes.

The girl's eyes were frightened, a trifle defiant, but the boy's were glad, earnest, tender.

" Vera," he said, almost in an awed whisper, " you know I love you." The girl rose swiftly, gracefully, to her feet.

" Good-night I" she said, with a little silvery laugh. " I'm tired, Jack!" Jack was beside her almost instantly. "Vera," he said, hardly, "good Lord J You don't mean to say you have been playing with me all the time. I thought you cared! I want to marry you, dear." The girl looked down; her face in the semi-darkness looked very young and white.

"You forget the difference in our positions," she said, almost as one trying to gain time.

"Is that allP" the boy cried, joyfully. I know you are miles too good for me, but ■ *

Vera interrupted him. . "I am leaving Picton by to-morrow night's boat that will catch the Syd« ney boat tho following day," she said, her eyes fixed on the dark hills. "Then you do not careP" the man questioned evenly. "Vera looked up at him, almost ; M a little hurt child might have done, and her lips quivered. "Vera, dearest!" Jack cried, and his arms went round her, "it means so much to me, I love you so." She looked deep into his pleading eyes one instant, and that instant he bent and kissed her lips. "You should not have done it!" she cried, in a little choking voioe. bat Jack only kissed her again. She leant, as though suddenly tired, against ids shoulder one instant, and then drew herself half defiantly away. "Good-night," she said, quickly,and stooped to pick up her banjo, then swiftly she turned from the deck and descended the stairs to her cabin be* low.

Jack did not follow her j for the moment he felt too stunned for speech. He had felt so sure of her before, and now something (the stars, maybej told him that she had meant her "Good-night" as a final "Good-bye. 1 * But if the stars did tell him that, his young brave smile the next instant mocked them. " For," he cried totheix blinking, shifting reflections, "I'll ask her again soon, and I'll make her tell |me ' why ' next time, if aha will not love me!" And his face, like hers, looked strangely young and very white just then. Mrs Seville tried to keep the joy of her heart from being too apparent in her face when next morning Vera ask» ed to be allowed to cancel her engage* ment and leave for Sydney immediateS, the gratified lady, accompanied by eorge Mavis, even waved good-bye toiler as the Arahura slid quickly away from Picton's wharf. Vera did not see her, though her eyes were fixed on a stalwart, familiar figure in white flannels seated in a chair with crimson cushions at the stern of Mr Seville's yacht; but the figure did not wave to her; ho did not even turn round, and Vera's last glimpse of Picton was half hidden by a mist of tears: Mrs Seville's guests stayed the full month for which they had been invited, but even the hostess, despite her secret satisfaction at Vera's departure, ffejf the numerous Sounds picnics and excursions rather trying, especially now that the girl's charming, original personality was not there to please them all. The only two who seemed totally unaware of the slightly clouded social atmosphere were GeoTge Maltby and Gladys; even the mother, with her purposeful blindness in this case, could not but see that they adored each other. ; : '■-" Gladys had even proudly said that she intended publishing a book of-he*-New Zealand poems which Maltby war suitably illustrating. Earlv in February Mr and Mrs Seville and Gladys, also George Maltby, wh« apparently quite accidentally had book, ed a passage by the same steamer, le'fi for Sydney on the Maunganui; Jaci had sailed ten days previously, much to his mother's consternation, for he had given no reason whatever for doing so. He met them when the boat reached Sydney; Mrs Seville was too overjoyed, at reaching her dear native town to notice the new, happy expression in; her son's eyes, not even when he drove with them in a taxi to their hotel. "Mater," he said, after he had seen his mother's luggage transferred to bet room. "I have two special friends 1 would like you to meet to-day; might I ask them to tea in your rooms this afternoon?"

" Certainly, Jack dear!" Mrs Seville responded, warmly; "only," she»said, with a pathetic shrug of her ample shoulders, " that extremely foolish young Mnltby will be there!" ;(;.', "Delightful!" Jack beamed, aai. went off down the corridor with a wild desire to dance the " sailor's hornpipe*'' instead of walking as a respectable Seville should.

Gladys and the illustrious Maltby were half hidden ■in a window recesf when Mrs Seville, resplendent in la* ender satin and black lace, rose frdm her chair that afternoon when her eon opened the drawing-room door, and announced: "Miss Rivett, Captain the Hon John Rivett!" Never before had Mrs Seville's usually well controlled countenance expressed such amazement; but, as her guests seemed perfectly unconcerned, she endeavoured to rally her conversationalpowers, and talk naturally of New Zeß-' land, its advantages, its disadvantages, its scenery and its mosquitoes; which Vera said, were far more entertaining than Autralian mosquitoes, whereat Mrs Seville blushed hotly! The poor lady afterwards wondered how she managed to drink her tea at all while Captain Rivett talked in his cultured voice to Jack and Maltby of his Indian experiences, and Vera entertained herself and Gladys with, a description of the vagaries of the latest Sydney fashions. When her guests had at last departed. Mrs Seville turned to her son. .'•." ~. Jack," she said, weakly, "what is the meaning of this?" "Mother/' he said, in his old boyish voice, " forgive me, but you were very, very foolish in New Zealand!" "Why " she demanded, half fearful of his answer.

"Firstly, I'm engaged to herl* Secondly, she is the only child of Captain Rivett, and will, unfortunately, be very much richer than I can ever hope to bet" r - . " Explain, Jack 1" the wretched ladj said. .

"Really, mater, I think I have explained confoundedly clearly!" "But why "

"Why did she come as companionhelp with you to New Zealand P" Jaol? interrupted.

Mrs Seville nodded.

. " Simply because her father was always away, and that he insisted upon her living with her tyrannical old aunt out here until she was twentv-orie, when he intended taking her to India. Vera hated the arrangement, so she persuaded that wealthy old Mrs Winder to recommend her to you, knowing (and a peculiar smile twisted the speaker's young, humorous mouth) how eminently respectable we all are. Well, you know all the rest, mater! I asked Vera to.marry me before she left New Zealand, and she refused me. I a6ked her again after I arrived in Sydney, and, except for that wretched money of hers, I'm the luckiest, happiest beggar alive, now, mother!" " You always were more sensible than your sister," Mrs Seville responded, warmly.

k "Don't you worry, mater; Maltby. is a jolly decent fellow. His New Zealand paintings are becoming all th« rage, and, hang it! what does it matter if he makes Gladys happy P" "TJm—yes." Mrs'Seville answered rather dubiously. Thus it was that .the following week Mr and Mrs Seville gave a select and charming dinner party to celebrate their son's and also their daughter's engagement, and the men's opinions were that the prospective bridegrooms were "lucky dogs." The women's opinions were that the prospective brides "wer# remarkably fortunate girls." Therefon at last Mrs Seville's heart was satis fied.

The Master of Ceremonies at the Vienna Court has been commanded to appoint a women's guard at the entrance to the reception rooms of tho palace to exercise the strictest censorship on women's so as to prevent wearers of slit skirts from attending court functions. The censors &r« ordered to display the greatest possibly tact but to be firm.