SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 12759, 9 January 1905, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

A MAN'S GLOVE, TilEr were guests in the same house, and both a little distinguished. They were rising, too, in their professions, and this' was a reason for greater notice; ascending stars, even if they be not, of the first magnitude, are better worth watching than those on the. wane. Eileen'Meara was beginning to make herself known as a violinist, and Stephen JL'almer, who was older at. his craft of story telling, had been heard of for some years. Like, many novelists, he was not brilliant, having a natural gift of silence which made glib talkers pronounce him dull and, on the surface, uninteresting. But his silence was neither morose or selfcentred, and when he spoke he did so pleasantly, saying no clever things at the expense of his neighbours, and rarely saying anything about them unless to their credit. He never spoke evil of a woman even if men wore Ids only listeners, and as though they divined a chivalry which was not obslrusive, women liked and trusted him. Tie had obviously been interested in Eileen Meara from the first evening when she had played for them without fusil or parade of .seeming to do a favour. She hail touched the strings lovingly as one loth to be parted from them for many hours, and tho artist in her dignified the girlish form until she seemed ennobled by the power of her own mu^ie. She- played emotionally, as the true artist, always must, yet not, without scholarly .restraint; her manner was something like her playing: it was possibly a little too quiet and restrained to be altogether natural, or so it seemed to the student of human nature. Thov had been acquaintances for some time, but since her playing in the half light with none of tho accessories of tho concert platform to detract, from natural charm, ho had come to think of her as the inspiration of his work and of his life. And through her friendliness—for sho was always friendly —gleamed sometimes a response; he felt sure of it. although the response was immediately followed by a swift, withdrawal. Without in the least, avoiding his society she seemed to draw a. line over which he might not pass: in another .toman he would have taken this as a. plain hint that his attentions were unwelcome; with her he was less sure and he hoped it might be otherwise. He was not even sufficiently discouraged to imagine he had « rival until the house party received an additional guest, and he saw Eileen flush like a roso at tho sound of the man's name. That, accusing flush was noticed by many, and it was faintly reflected upon tho stranger's face as lie met her outstretched hands; in spite of added colour she was quite composed as she addressed their hostess : — "We need no introduction, Mrs. Ritchie; Mr. Stanley and I have met before." Hearing her friendly voice, the man's somewhat doubtful face cleared, and seeing that sho was prettier than she had given promise of being, and knowing that sho was becoming successful, he took her hard warmly. "This is a very unexpected pleasure, Miss Meara, and I am delighted to find you have not forgotten me," Underneath the cordiality there might have been the slightest possible triumph over that flattering blush of hers; so Palmer decided, but, he was possibly a prejudiced observer. Certainly Miss Meara displayed no more embarrassment and was quite her usual self that evening, although for the first time she refused to play for them—that is to say. she refused when Stanley asked her, with a flattering reference to Iter time of promise, when he had predicted great things for her in tho future. Even in a. few hours his manner had gained in impressment, and Palmer, watching as one who had interests at stake, ventured noon a test. As though the other bad not, spoken, ho asked her to play a certain minuet which was a special fnvourito of his; lie made the request so earnestly that she yielded, and in tho moment, of doing so the eyes of the two men met —it. was a declaration of war. She played, but not with her usual sympathy; something had jarred the mental atmosphere, and Palmer, who had a lintsiciauly ear, detected the difference. Stanley, who had no perceptions beyond brilliance and accuracy of execution, was enthusiastic, and she answered as one who desired to be.politely responsive. In less than a week .Stanley had become j Eileen Meara's shadow—that is to say, as far as she would allow him. and when Palmer did not assert his own claims to nfivice. He had decided that Stanley, with his handsome face and charming manners, was only an imitation of a gentleman, and Falcon's bearing puzzled him ; at times lie could have sworn that, he himself was the object of her true regard, and at others be thought she was almost afraid of Stanley, and although sho discouraged the hitter's love-making she seemed anxious to keep his friendship. Palmer could not understand the position, and one evening Stanley gave plain proof that as a gentleman ho was hardly genuine through and through. Eileen had just finished playing when May Ritchie —the spoilt little daughter of tho house, who had been exploring every corner of the violin case—produced a man's kid glove and hold it up wonderingly. Eileen, with tho awakened beauty still in- her face, did not know what was happening until the child's shrill voice made itself heard all over tho room. "Miss Meara, what a, funny place to keep an old glove -and it's got Mi. Stanley's name inside !" Fileen turned sharply, and her flush was more startled than ii had been on Stanley's sudden appearance a week ago. -She was too confounded for words, but Stanley's face was ablaze with triumph; her serene friendliness had pricked his vanity _ more than be had cared to own even to himself, and here was a proof of how much her pretended indifference was worth. If she could treasure even his glove through years— keeping it for safe custody with the violin she so valued, surely sho had treasured other remembrances, although he had easily ignored them—until she had proved herself a success. An awkward silence might have fallen if ho had not- spoken v.th gay triumph. "If it is really my property. May, let me have it: once it was only a glove—now it is something infinitely more precious." Elation had betrayed him, showing innalo vulgarity of mind; his look at the girl, who was dumb, as he pocketed the glove, was so openly triumphant that it froze her into a mile hauteur that was still wordless. For the, rest of the evening she '.aid tittle or nothing, but she somehow failed to sec Stanley's outstretched hand as he bade bur good night. Through sleepless hours Stephen Palmer was only conscious of a hearty contempt for the apparently successful rival. He hated him, and had no doubt upon the point; on every other point lie was full of doubt, and stayed anxiously awake until the morning broke full and clear that was to solve them, and set tiio crooked straight. They hnd made a family picnic not very far from home, and it was noticeable that Kileen Mourn kept, much with the children: this was quite easy, for she had the sunshiny ways that children love. To shake them off was always her difficulty, and on this occasion she made no attempt to escape from them. Her friendliness towards Mr. Stanley had apparently evaporated: she. was merely civil to him, and that was all. It appeared to Palmer that he was also avoided, and he did not tknow what to think, except that he still hated Stanley with unabated ardour. .Stanley himself was so irritated at this show of hostilities from a ; 1 citadel which had h> obviously surrendered, that before th.' day was over be lost his temper and determined that he would cut off any possible retreat. j Drawing Palmer« apart, he suggested a quiet smoke, and as though impelled to make a confidence, he became garrulous upon tho subject of his former knowledge of Eileen Meara. "The fact- of I he matter is," he explained with the apparent frankness of perfect security, "that we were almost boy and girl lovers, and although circumstances parted its at tho time, fate has decreed that we are j the ones for each other." "Unless we allow for .poetical license you I could hardly have been boy and girl to- ■ j gether— l can quite imagine that she was very young." I Stanley winced, for he was proud of his j youthful appearance: he, tried to return ; thrust for thrust, not. knowing how the other , | had said to himself. "That,is lie number I one: now for the rest." "It- does not matter what our ages were, ; j but you saw what happened last night'.'" , I _ Palmer listened deliberately to the laugh- . ; ing shouts of the children as they made ' ; i swift, search for the one in hiding: he could j i hardly behove that Stanley would permit . | himself to allude to the 'incident of the j ; glove, although he had a low opinion of his j chivalry where women were concerned. He waited in a discouraging.silence for the other to commit, himself, and it was soon done. Vanity obliterated good taste, and Palmer saw that he hail not misread the character. "You know what 1 mean, of course? ' However ooquettishly a woman plays the game of love she does not treasure a thing ' of no worth to her for years unless—" He would have finished his sentence with compdaeency. onlv that the other intervened, stung beyond all patience; he hated the ' coarseness of the touch, and the unbearable insolence of supposed proprietorship. But > . he was not sorry that the incident had been ! mentioned; he desired to understand it,

j and Stanley's conceited manner, together with his deviations from the truth, suggested self-deception to tho student of human nature. ' "Are you speaking of the finding of a glove?" fie interrupted coldly. "Do you mean that it was really an old one of yours?" "Need you ask when you remember what, the child saidwhen you recall her face? Such an exquisite flush on the face of any woman means muob."A hot, jealous anger so stirred rainier that he had some ado not, to lay violent hands upon the man go boastful and unchivalrous. But he commanded himself, and a certain hopeful doubt, of the whole position helped him to do this. With sharp, incisive words he almost gave him the lie direct. ''There are many emotions which can bring a flush to a sensitive face; it may be your glove— will not dispute that—but I doubt if she keeps it from love of you. I mean to ask her and she will tell me the truth: she will not wish to tell me anything but the truth." Not to himself could he have explained his sudden fooling of confidence, but the other laughed that sort of laugh which so betrays a man. "We know what we know—naturally you do not. To tell you the truth, I did not realise myself until we met the other day that sh« would have been so faithful in remembrance. . Sometimes I have blamed myself for not speaking plainly when she was a girl, but, it is best as it is, for we were both poor, and now—" "And now she is making money," said Palmer quietly. "You seem an excellent, man of business; it is a pity the feelings of a gentleman were, not included in your commercial education." " What- do you mean?" asked Stanley blatantly and red with auger. "I do not understand you.!' "Naturally, you cannot; but it might dimly occur to you that -you have shown gross disrespect, to the lady you profess to —but I mistake. You say it is the lady who loves you : she will convince you of your error before many days have passed." Stanley laughed again with the magnanimity of the. conqueror who can afford to be generously forgiving. "You shall see my ring on her finger before the tun sets. You will owe me an apology then—naturally, I quite understand why it- is so sore a subjet. You want her yourself, but mine is the prior claim." A twig snapped above them made both men look up. At their feet they had the rippling coolness of tho brook and above them were hazel bushes laden with unripe nuts. Framed in the fresh green stood Eileen Meara; she was very pale, but her eyes had a steady light as she faced them both. "1 was looking for a hiding-place, and hearing my name I could not help listening to what was said. I cannot be sorry that i did so, as I can speak in my own defence; there have been mistakes made." Her voice was the only thing she could not qitito command; it was unsteady, and she made a quiet pause as she looked at. Palmer. Without a word he drew a step closer, so that, he was nearer to her than the man who had boasted. With gentle dignify she addressed her next words to Stanley himself. "You said you were going to ask me a question; may I answer it here and now?" "Not now, sweet—not. before witnesses." He spoke eagerly, for he had no fine sense to foretell defeat. Vanity blinded him to the fall that was coming. "Why not before _ a witness, when you have made him almost a full confidant? Would it be quite fair that he should heatyou and not mc? I want to tell you both why 1 treasured your g'.ove. and why 1 desired to keep it as a remembrance." She looked again at 'Palmer, who almost, forgot that flic other man was there at all; he moved near enough to take her hand, but he did not touch it; there is a nearness of spirit which can dispense with outward shows. As before, her words were for Stanley. "When I was a young, impressionable girl you came down to my father's rectory, and did your best, to make me like you. Very possibly it was quite easy, for I was young, knowing nothing of the ways of the world, while you were not so young and understood the world well. iu a word, you made love and rode away with protestations which were nothing to you, while they might have meant all to me. Because of the useful lesson you taught me at the beginning of my career I kept your glove; it has been a talisman, warning me of many dangers which an artistic career is so full of. Do you understand?" "1 cannot- say that I do. unless I fake tho liberty of reading between the—" "You may take no liberty," she interrupted coldly; "that, is what you have already done in speaking so' freely of me. As you can readily imagine, I- had no greatwish to meet you again; but as we did meet, and a« only my vanity had been wounded in the past, J tried to show you that I was neither resentful nor bitter. You do not know how many times 1 have been grateful to you —so grateful that you had taught, me how little words mean to the young and struggling artist. I might have stoked so much on the light words and lost more heavily than I can understand. Your glove in my violin-case • was my. constant warning and safeguard; but for its presence 1 might have mistaken the false for the trim again and again. I wanted to show myself friendly to you • because you have helped me so infinitely." Coldly and quietly she told the truth, so that, one man, at least, recognised if; perhaps the other did. too, although he tried to be jaunty and disbelieving. He was still on the stage, but. his part- was played or,;; he was forgotten after one sentence thrown back to him as Palmer took her hand that they might retrace together the path which had brought her to them. "You have your glove again, Stanley; it has served its purpose." Put- when the hazel boughs had shut them in, and lorbidde-n trespassers to follow, lie and Eileen stood face to face and everything was clear to him. " i understand now, dearest. But did you not. learn your lesson too well? You could detect the false from the true, hut did you nor, sometimes mistake the true for tho false?" "I think so now. Fairy gold shines so like the real gold that I was afraid to touch it—so fearful that the precious metal might vanish in my hand." "And is it that fear alone which stands between us';" "That only; T was afraid to hold out my hand lest it should return to rue empty." He took her hands and kissed them; he kissed her lips, and the hazel boughs were kindly, and let no secret out, but they knew — what, they knew.— Ellen Ada Smith, in M.A.P.