A SHORT STORY

Manawatu Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 3308, 30 March 1926, Page 7

A SHORT STORY

TIER STAR AND THE HARLEQUIN

It was to Ijc a marriage of convenience! As Howard Shaw told himself again and again, there could have been many a worse arrangement. Although he was not enthusiastic about it, there was nothing distasteful in the thought of his forthcoming wedding to Prudence Warville. His fiancee was beautiful, intelligent and accomplished. Moreover, she knew that she was about to participate in a bargain, and she accepted the fact graciously. She would fulfil her part of the obligation, Howard felt sure and he meant to fulfil his none the less. Really, lie told himself, it was an excellent thing that they were about to do. They would give extreme satisfaction to many people, including their respective parents. These parents were not tyrants. They had not driven, although they desired, the bargain. In fact, on both sides they had sacrificed much towards the happiness of their children. Now these children felt that the decent thing to do was to make this obvious return.

It was the wedding of wealth and lineage. Prudence was the only child of a house as rich in ancestors as it was poor in money. Howard, also an only child, knew' very little of his forbears beyond his father’s father; but these two generations had possessed the golden touch,and Howard inherited wealth. Yet he had not the vulgarity of the typical ncwly-rich. His intelligence and education prevented that. Otherwise he would never have been accepted into the Warville home. As old Sir Neville Warville and his wife watched the young couple politely discussing a little music at the piano, they were well content with their choice. Prudence was the perfect produce of a rigidly conservative training, moderate, reserved, dignified. Never would they have sold her to one who showed signs of an inability to match Her cold correctness.

Howard Shaw was perfect in her /presence. He felt that it would have been criminal to be otherwise. Sometimes when her sheer beauty thrilled him he was tempted to express his delight with the spontaneous gladness of a healthy young man. But the thought of that long line of stiff ancestors keeping spiritual watch on their one surviving hope always chilled him into suppression. So he hid the Secret impulsive warmth of his nature and tried to be thankful that at least he could lay genuine admiration at the feet of his lady. He arranged some music before her now, and watched the lovely white fingers spread over the opening chords of an accompaniment. She played, as she did all other things, correctly, yielding to each note exactly the emphasis and duration marked upon the sheet before her. Howard . would have been amazed if the delicate fingers were to stumble or halt in their smooth progress.

She lifted her head and her perfect throat swelled like that of a singing bird. Her voice came clear and true. The words were like polished jewels in their faultless enunciation. But thy were dead things, nfeaningless and unsatisfactory. A cold fear struck the young man as he listened.' It was a fear that often hid waiting somewhere in his being, and he hated it for suddenly springing upon his conscience so clearly. Yet there it was suggesting tormenting' questions to his mind. Could he really live' with this beautiful creature, watching her passionless perfection day after day ? He was not vicious; but he knew the many faults of: his nature. He felt the warm life that prompted him to occasional folly, the love of mirth that he enjoyed and little undignified nonsense, the whisperings of irresponsible youth so sweet to follow. She had no weaknesses to match his own. He glanced at her parents, stately, gracious relics of aristocracy, watching with satisfaction the result of their training. She was the ideal daughter of an ancient house. Unconsciously, Howard sighed. The gird heard and turned her head slightly towards him. She had finished her song, and her hands fluttered down and rested calmly in her lap. There was unexpected inquiry in her eyes as they met his. “Are you unhappy?” she asked simply. He roused himself. This would never do. He smiled and raised her graceful hand to his lips. j "How can I be unhappy in your J presence?” he murmured. She bowed, calmly, and, withdrawing her hand, calmly selected another song. The wedding had been arranged for the following week. It was to V>e formal, though quiet. On both sides it would be a tremendous fam--1 ily event. Everyone Howard met seemed beaming with congratulations. Everyone told him that he 'was lucky. So he went on telling himself. He impressed the fact with more and more emphasis as that little chill fear kept springing up more frequently. . He met a few old schoolfellows on the following day. They were embryo doctors, and a frivolous group in their off time. He had not seen them for a year. They hailed him heartily and bore him to their lodgings. They were in .great glee, having got tickets for a fancy-dress | affair that evening. Absurd garments I were donned for Howard’s approval. |lt was to be a jolly affair, half public.

"You come," suggested one Harben, who was disguised as a skeleton, being entirely enveloped in black tights upon which the white hones were accurately painted. ‘:Tt’s a rlppin’ floor, good band and good jirub.”

The suggestion flashed pleasantly upon Howard’s mind. He was free that evening. Her fiancee’s parents deemed it “nicer” for th young people not to see too much of each other. Prudence often spent odd days with a girl friend. She would be away that evening, so he W,ould

not be expected to call. The vision of Prudence gave a check to his thoughts. Pie could not imagine her approving. This affair was not exactly select. It might even develop into something of a "rag.” “I haven’t a costume,” he demurred, half-P,variedly.

“Well, you can hire one. Or— Jimmy’s got two, haven’t you, Jim?”

"Yes! There’s the harlequin thing X used to wear when I was young and slender. Can’t do it now —no docent harlequin has a tummy like mine. It should fit you—l’ll fish it out.*’

He pulled forth a large trunk.' tumbled its ontii'e contents on to the floor, and, after scrambling among them for a while, he threw the limp encasement of a harlequin at Howard.

“Try it on,” he commanded. ‘‘There’s the sword, and there’s the mask.”

Howard obeyed. He had always liked the costume. It fitted him well. He looked at himself in a long mirror. He looked taller and thinner than in ordinary clothes. When he put on the mask he was sure that he would never have recognised himself. The thing appealed to him. After all, why should he not go? It would be one of his last free nights, for he was fully determined that he would take no surreptitious pleasures after his marriage. Ha would keep to his bargain in letter and spirit. But this night was his own. Still, it would be well not to be recognised. He would whiten the lower part of his face and would paint his lips in the conventional bow.

“Well, if you don’t mind lending mo this,” he said.

“Keep it, my son. It sets off the .subtle symmetry of your s form. Mind you don’t stick the sword in somebody’s eye. That’s settled, then -—-you’re going.”

So when evening came he found himself entering the gaily decorated ballroom with a feeling of childish excitement. After all. It was good to be absurd for a little while; to don a frivolous garb and forget responsibilities. He was secure in his disguise. He had laughed as he had introduced himself to his reflection in the mirror. His tanned jaw was covered with white powder, and the painted red mouth so soft and curved was utterly unlike his own.

“A foolish fellow, but attractive,’'' he murmured. “The sword is only hluff. His heart is bearing for the dance—for an enchanted hour with some alluring 1 Columbine. A sham love—a sham despair—and then—-good-night!” He felt absurdly young as he mingled with the masked crowd. He loved the idea of a masquerade, of fleeting encounters with make-be-lieve people, with personalities specially donned for the hour. He never wanted to see beneath the masks. The whole pleasure lay In the acceptance of externals; the play-acting; the sense of moving in a make-believe world. He felt that he had left himself behind and that this light thing that danced and flirted with harmless, extravagant abandon, was an irresponsible spirit escaped from his sober body, and having a last fling before it was stifled for ever.

He chattered light nonsense as he danced with a lady from an Eastern harem, a Bacchante, and an Egyptian princess. He hated to admit to himself that he was disappointed in their heavy replies. His eye had been following the dainty figure of a Columbine. She was graceful and elusive as a fairy, and kept fitting faithlessly from one partner to another. When an opportunity showed itself Howard leapt lightly to her side, dropped on one knee, put his hand over his heart, and implored her partnership. She laughted delightfully at his nonsense and extended her hand for the mock ,worship of his lips. Alas! they left a vivid red smudge across the white fingers where the thick carmine make-up had adhered. “You give away too much of yourself,” she commented. "I shall be able to count, the victims of your amours by the red blobs upon their faces.”

"Then, Indeed, I am safe,” said Howard. "For I have reserved my lips for my true mate, my Columbine.”

"My face would be disfigured by such embraces, therefore I pray restrain your ardour.” “Nay, your cheeks could stand more colour, lady—you are a little pale.” She laughed and pretended to dance away. The band was playing a melody with an infectious rhythm. Howard followed swiftly, and, holding her lightly, they swayed together ,in the dance. She danced wonderfully, all her graceful body following the pulse of the music. To Howard it seemed that the melody had become personified and was swaying in his arms.

Again and again they danced. She was a delightful Columbine. She had the true spirit of the masquerade, she was not offended at his extravagant compliments and mock love-making. She met him on his own ground. He felt that she had loft here everyday body somewhere else and was just a spirit of fleeting pleasure, unsubstantial but altogether charming. He knew no more about her than that, she was young, impulsive, exquisitely graceful, and endowed with the special charms that make an ideal companion In frivolity. Ho saw that she was well disguised. The silken mask came low over her face, and her mouth was frankly painted, reminding him of a little scarlet butterfly against her white cheeks. Her hair was hidden by a kind of skull cap, and her eyes were bright with laughter that kept rippling over her face, like little jolly breezes over sunlit fields.

Undoubtedly she was enjoying the evening, and her enjoyment prompted her to sweet audacities which an inherent good taste prevented from ( evcr sinking to vulgarity. Howard could nx?t remember when he had enjoyed himself so much, and the goddess of the evening was this vivid little creature in her absurd

and charming disguise. Beyond a vague thankfulness, he scarcely gave a thought to the fact that she seemed to bo unaccompanied. There was nothing to prevent him from spending the whole time in her company. Twice just to tease him, she slipped away and eluded him for a few minutes, but on the whole she accepted him as her fitting companion.

Time flew on sparkling wings, and Howard felt that he could never lire of the glamour of these passing hours. He had a shock of disappointment when, at the end of a 1 dance, she curtseyed to him and evaded his proffered arm. “And now—farewell!'’ she said, lightly. “Some other maiden must atone for my faithlessness, for I must leave you.” He was sc astonished that he watched her trip to the door and send him a half-mocking kiss from the tips of her fingers, before ke realised that she was in earnest. With quick strides, he reached her side as she was about to run down the stairs. Ho caught the edge of her flimsy skirt as it swept pest him, sticking stiffly out. She turned. "You are not going now, surely?” he protested. “Indeed I must.” “But it is quite early.” She leaned towards him and whispered. “Ah, but perhaps I am Cinderella, and the magic hour draws nigh.” “And then —what will happen? Will you stand revealed in rags?” She nodded seriously. “Indeed I’ will —in the rags and tatters of ruin.”

He stared at her suddenly, struck by some arresting quality of her voice. H e could not think what it was. At sight of his solemn face, she laughed. “Good Harlequin,” she said, “do not distress yourself. Let no shadow dim the memory of this evening. Return to the play and finish the dance.”

“Alas! the night will hold no charm for me when you are gone.” He tried to speak lightly, but the words were prompted by the unexpected sharpness of his disappointment. .

“Oh, .Columbine. stay a .little while," he pleaded. “Dear being* of enchantment, let me dream a little longer—let me forget " He stopped abruptly, startled by his own sincerity. Oh, this was folly indeed —but how sweet! The laughter had died from the lady s eyes, and she was gazing before her. A wistful air touched her with a new charm. “Forget!” she repeated. "Dream. And after all, may not the awakening be the harder for the dream?” She was speaking more to herself than to Howard, and again he was held by that quality of her voice. What; was it that struck _ him so strangely? A clock behind them chimed the quarter. She roused herself and laughed. “The hour draws nigh,” she said, with mock awe.' “If I were indeed Cinderella I would leave my slipper, and you could hunt me out but now I only dare leave you a memory.” He bowed. “It wall be sweet,” he said. “I shall lay it by with another ghost—but I must not disturb them often. They may come haunting.”

She laughed a little ruefully.

“Indeed, it will be ' a ghost you will remember. A little spirit that lived only for to-night—a little spirit with a big secret.”

He leant towards tyer, and drew her within the shadow of an alcove. “Must I torment my mind with guesses at your secret? Are you a fairy, become mortal for these hours, and would you vanish if a mortal kissed you?’’ She drew away with troubled eyes, and beneath its paint her mouth was trembling. “I would not vanish,” she said. “But all my jolly evening would fall to ashes. For I have a trust to keep even in my folly.” Howard looked at her tenderly. “Do not be afraid,’ ’he said. “I also have a trust to keep; so if it must be —farewell, dear Columbine.” “Farewell, dear Harlequin. I am not fairy, but indeed I have become human for these hours.”

H e felt her hand slip softly from his grasp. He watched the graceful figure run lightly down the broad staircase. Something white and small fluttered unheeded from her bodice as she went. Howard waited until she was out of sight, and then secured the tiny embroidered handkerchief.

“Not a slipper this time,” he murmured, smiling as he inhaled its delicate scent. A strange thrill of memory ran through him. He held the cambric trifle to the light. In one corner was a monogram. ann u n « Prudence smiled .graciously as she received him the following evening in the presence of her parents. The parents smiled; Howard smiled; all [went easily and smoothly. Howard j watched his fiancee with critical eyes. Was she paler, even quieter, [ than usual ? Indeed, she was beautiful! But was it possible that she was a little nervous under his gaze. “Did you enjoy your day with Miss Merton?” h e asked, politely, as they were sitting on a low window seat looking out into the fading day. She started a little at the sudden question, but she only said: I . “Yes, thank you. It was very | pleasant.” "And your mother told me that I you went to a lecture on old English music in the evening.” j He saw the colour leave her face,, but she smiled bravely. I “Did she?” she said.

“Yes. And d’you know, it’s so strange. I went to that lecture also.’’

| He was touched to quick compassion as he saw a shade of fear flit over her fact. His eyelids quivered [clown, and she did not speak, i "Yes,” he continued. “And I had [such a strange adventure as I was [going home. It was late—oh! very | late, considering I’d only been to a lecture—and as I was taking a short out through the parfl I saw

a poor harlequin sitting upon some railings, heaving vast sighs,. and breaking his heart into miserable little bits. He vowed he’d lost his Columbine —said she’d turned into a statue, or a star, or something equally remote and inhuman. He wanted her back again—oh! you can’t think how much he wanted her back again. Not that he didn’t admire the star —but he felt that it would he an impossible thing with which to live.” Howard paused, and tried to see her face, but she had withdrawn into the deepening shadow, and he only noticed that her sensitive hand trembled a little. He reached out his own and touched it gently. ‘ "You see, she had told him that she had only been human for a few hours, and he Wanted her to go on being human all the time, so that she’d understand him and forgive him his faults and weaknesses. Oh! ” He stopped abruptly as something warm splashed on to his hand. He heard a little sob from the shadow, and his grasp tightened over her hand. "Dear little Columbine,” he whispered. “So you are human, after all.”—By Lenore Silva, in the “Australasian.”