SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 13369, 26 December 1906, Page 10

SHORT STORY.

SAYING WHAT YOU DON'T MEAN.

It was a bright moon and its light filtered in through the leaves of the wisteria vine covering one end of the big porch. The girl, leaning back against the pillows of a hammock, swung herself by the force of her patent-leather shoes tapping on the floor.

" Anyhow," she said, with half seriousness, "it's a mighty safe rule to go by—never believe anything a man says. Then there won't be any mistake."

"Tho rule works the other way, also, doesn't it?" inquired the man in the green willow chair, flicking his cigar ashes over the railing. Certainly. declared the girl, with embarrassing promptness. " Only a demented man would think a girl really meant what she said."

" Doesn't it prove annoying frequently il the man isn't familiar with the rules ol the game?" he asked. (( "For him, yes," said the girl, sweetly. "But, you see, it helps. He knows next time."

" Sort of a philanthropic educational game you girls run, then, isn't it?" he asked, interestedly, tossing the cigar after the ashes and tipping back his chair. "Oh, we 011 '. exactly call it that," said the girl, dcpressingly. "And, you see, we are bavin the compliment returned to us all the while."

" Our well-krio.vn modesty," began the man, elaborately, " has always ' misted us into the idea that wo could teach you nothing. But, of course, we may have been wrong all these years. Still, coming down from generalities, doesn't a girl—you, for instance— don't you ever have relapses —slight, of course—when you really can be taken at your wordwhen you mean what you say?" The girl considered, still swinging. "Oh, there may be times,' she admitted cautiously. But lam not at all to be relied on. You never can tell, you see." That s a pity, said the man. " Because I m an exception to your rule. There are a great many times when I say what I mean. Tiles# spells have been growing on me lately,- too.',' . .. , Really? _ asked the.girl. " Do you know,' I wish you d come oftener— like to study your case, so as to make a report on it to other girls. I never heard of anything like it before.''

"I might give up my position," mused the man in answer to the first part of her remark. "That's the only way I could work 111 more time at your house besides everv evening and Sunday afternoons, which is my limit now. Rut, then, how'd I make a living? ' "Do you suppose there are caterpillars in tins wisteria vine.' broke in the girl nervously. " I just thought of it." Probably," said the man placidly. "Jf you 11 let me sit there in the hammock I'll keep them off." Oil. I'm not a bit afraid really, said the girl, with inconsequent haste. Do you know, he asked, "if vou feel an honest, truthful spell, one of those relapses we spoke of. coming 011 while I am here this evening I wish you'd tell me because there was something I wanted to sav. and it's 110 use when you are in a normal state of mind.

T , " I'll remember," she said, politely, "hut I in afraid there's 110 chance of one to-night Wiiy not make a note of it for some otliei time, for fear you forget it?" "I have-on my cuff," lie explained. then Iv© thought of another way. T might tell von what it was . and vou could have it handy in your mind to consider when a relapse hits you—for I might not be here you know, and you said they were rare." ' "You seem to bo anxious about it," said the girl curiously, swintring a trifle faster " But what's the use? Since I was eighteen I've made a practice of never remembering longer than five minutes anything a man said to me. So you sec—"

" I told you I was an exception," he explained patiently. "You'd remember this, I'm sure. Because I've meant what I said ever since I've known you." The shadow of the wisteria vines flecked the girl's face as the hammock idly swung of its own accord. ' °

"What. I wanted to say." went on the man, with his fingers tightly clasped, "is, will you marry me? You know—'know I love you."

There was a silence, the golden silence of a perfect summer night. A cricket suddenly chirped.among the vines. "No," breathed the girl. " No, I cannot."

The man got up and stood like a soldier. "Good night," lie said, and started for the steps. She sprang up with a half-sob-bing laugh. "But—but, you see, I don't moan what I say," she stammered.

The man returned in haste.