SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18316, 5 February 1923, Page 12

SHORT STORY.

THE EGOIST.

BY DOUGLAS LYON; (Copyright.) , L

I always . was a very quiet fellow, never self-assertive or vain. In , : the presence of the fair sex I am, as a rule, painfully shy. Such love-making as I have attempted has always been extremely awkward and invariably unsuccessful. How I camo to be co-respondent in a divorce case, therefore, God only know,. Anyway, I did. And this so far as I can understand, is how it happened ...- . , I was in the smoking room of my club one day, chatting to some other journalists, when one of them, who was facing the doorway, gave an exclamation. "Hullo!" he said.' "Here's George Charles. Wonder what he want* here? " Wo had all heard of him, of course. He wrote brilliant novels full of inimitable wit and subtle sarcasm. His books were bizarre; they stripped society of its beautiful covering and showed it up \ for what, it was really worth. No sentiment, no convention, no religion, I no nobility, was tree from the biting cynicism of his i'had known him long ago at college As a matter of fact, I haS been editor of the college magazine to which he had occasionally contributed. He wrote extraordinary stuff, everthen _.; . We graduated about the same time, and drifted apart. Several years passed and then novels began to appear under his name- I read them with avidity. _bo lid the public. Very soon and seemingly without much effort, George Charles became famous. • . „•.._„_ And now, for the first time since our college davs, we met again. . " feood-day, Lawrence," he said to me, ignoring the others. "I thought Id find you here at this time. I took his hand. , „ t ~;j "Pleased to see you again, I said, somewhat coldly. "If you could spare me a few minutes," he wont on. " I want to ask you a favour." ... . I swallowed mv annoyance with an effort, and, excusing myself to my companions, crossed to a corner of the room and sat down facing Charles. "Look here, Charles," I said, this is a bit thick, vou know. I haven t seen vou or spoken to you for over five years, and yet vou walk up to me and talk to me as if "we'd only parted yesterday. And then, to come to it all, you ask me a favour! " . ■ > Charles smiled, one of his rare smiles, extraordinarily fascinating. " I'm sorry, old man," he said, softly, putting his hand on my arm, " I'm an inconsiderate boor, but I can't help it. You know me. You can forgive me. Honestly, I'have, been going to look you up scores of times, and always put it off —you know the way one does 1 _ But I hope you won't let that prejudice you against granting my little favour I" It transpired that he wanted me to write up an article on his early career at college for a big magazine. His publisher wanted it as soon as possible. He had come to me because he remembered bit editing the school mag., and because I . knew everything about his life at college that there was to know. ~. f •'■> - ; After some slight hesitation I agreed write the story, for him; it would'.be a" good advertisement 1 1 for me. and—well, as I have said, he fascinated, me^; " Well, look here," he said, 1 ras he rose to go, "come up to my place for ©inner to-morrow night. We'll go over the old times together and I'll show you some of the things I used to contribute to the college mag., photos, souvenirs,, etc., to refresh your memory. And. by the bye, ;you'll meet my wife."'.' You 11 like her." "Ah!" 1 said, ;«urprised,ifor he was the last man on earth, I should have thought, who would have married. '■' "I didn't know you had fallen!" H.

I arrived at. Charles* flat about seven the next evening. A maid ushered me into the study, ; an incredible apartment filled with cushions, and arm , chains and wonderful paintings. Books ana periodicals lay scattered about iho floor in absolute confusion— would have no truck i with, bookcases, : believing ', thai half the joy of life had its origin in disorder. ;!,!;.;.. ■::. \ >^''o^r'-: l-^* ! + _ Charles was there, seated in one of the arm chairs, reading a newspaper. As 1 entered he threw the paper ; upon the floor and rose to meet me. ! . ~". " Come in, old man," he said jovially. r" Come right in and take a chair." , He shook me warmly by the hand. I sat down in a chair facing him and took a cigar from the case he offered me. " .There's a match-box lying - on the floor by ycur.dhair/'.he remarked, *' and the same floor makes an excellent ashtray." '' , • ', -''" . ' " Pretty cosy here" I said. " But I must say the floor's "in a bit of a mess." " Yes, it is; but I prefer having my books and things handy. All I've got to do if I wish anything is to drop.my arm over the side of the chair and pick it up. No getting :upi or searching about! " ■ ■":■. ;•"'.'-.■.•••-/•■:'?,.' v':\-:

By the time the gong went for dinner I had almost forgotten that Charles was married, and that I was to meet his wife. He rose at once. " Let us go," he said. "Hilda will be .vraiting.": 7 ".'•-,''' ■ '"■ •." ,'" She was standing before a, bright fire in the dining room when we entered. Bhe was young, ; not. more than twentytwo, I should have, said, with a slim, seductivo figure and thick, auburn hair. Her evening dress was of*white and seemed gently to drape her figure. When she turned to greet us I saw a sweet, rounded face with a little • nose and a dehciously-puckered forehead. He eyes as I afterwards discovered, were the colour of violets. ' ,'

• "My wife, Hilda—Mr. Lawrence," said Charles. .:-...;.. :;,:,;.:„ ...'/.,:,./<■..-, :;.

Wo shook hands, and I murmured my pleasure .-., : ■■■.;.'.- ■*;,.'-: ■■■ ■■ r,-- ■.•;' •;>-.' v "My husband , often speaks of you," said Mrs. Charles, smiling. " You were great friends at college, were you not?" ,-u 1 replied in the affirmative. Evidently Charles had not told her that it was over live years «inco we had met. The dinner was excellent, the M«ines also, and my hostess charming. You know, as. I said at first, I am not a man who shines in the company of women. I am shy. I am certainly not the type of fellow who goes about looking for affairs of tho heart. But I could not help thinking that Mrs. Charles caught my eyes oftener than there was any need for, and that her own held more intimacy than was good for my peace of mind. Almost immediately after dinner was over Mrs. Charles excused herself and retired. I fancied that her eyes sought mine a trifle wistfully as she said goodnight. ■<.'.■.•■• Over our liqtwurs and cig.:,rs, Charles and I discussed the article I. was to write Ho showed me some of the sketches ho had written years ago for the college mag., and I marvelled again at their merit, and how little they were appreciated then. Before parting he pressed me to come round another evening and let him know how I was getting on with the biography. I accepted his invitation gladly. I must admit that his wife interested me very much indeed.

111. I had now resumed my earliest friendship with Charles ani although the article I had written for him had long' since been completed and duly published, I continued to visit the house fairly frequently. His wife proved a' great attraction for me, .and. I could not help seeing that sho iikod me, and was not afraid to show that she did so. ' '

1 think Charles resented finding me so often alone with his wife, but he never said anything, and never failed to ask mo back again.: 02 course. 1 Charles must have been a terrible man t 0 live with continually. He was such an incurable egoist; an hoar of ; his company put mo all on edge; ma wife must have Buffered the tortues m Hie damned. ":••.'-•

However, I must get on with my story and come to the events which :;led- up to my appe&rrnoe -in- the Divorce < Court as Ta-co-respondent.: '.'•'''• - I live in a flat, down Kensington j way. It is a nice, comfortable little flat, very suitable for a bachelor, and > I have a nice comfortable little housekeeper, also ! verv suitable for a bachelor. In the evenings I almost invariably retire to my study after dinner and write till far into the night. ■'•■•■.• .- . .'•'"' •• ■ : The evening I am about to speak of was '■ no exception :to the rule. It ' must have been about eleven o'clock, and I was seated at my desk endeavouring to write, up an article for a Sunday paper, when the fussy ; footsteps of my housekeeper approached the study door, and a knock sounded. I cried "Come in, and she came. She was rather perturbed, I thought, . and she spoke nervously. "Thero's a lady at the door, sir,"- she announced; "and she says sho wants to see vou' at once." s * - "Well, Mrs. Stevens," I said, smiling, "if that is all—show the lady in. ,J . My housekeeper went out, forgetting to close the door in her confusion, and, after a slight altercation without, Mrs. Charles walked in. She closed the door behind her and came towards me. I rose to my feet, literally speechless with amazement. ;•■ ■ , "I'm so sorry to disturb you like this, Mr.. Lawrence,'' she stammered, and I knew by the pitch of her voice that she was very near breaking point, "but I had to come to you. My people-—" Thereupon she flopped into a chair and, covering her head with her arm, began to Sob bitterly, like a thwarted child. "Come, come, Mrs. Charles 1" I said as sternly as I could. " You mustn't give- way "like this. What has happened? what can I do for you?" $ She looked up at me then, and although her face was streaked with tears, arid her little nose red, I longed to take her ill my arms and kiss her. " It's mv husband," she began, brokenly. "He's a brute! I've stood his studied insults as long as I could, .. but to-nigTTt things have reached a climax. To-night,'* she breathed hard, and her eyes were lit by a flame which could only have been hate, "he struck me. I struggled with him, but he held my wrists easily and only laughed at me. Afterwards I pretended to forgive him and as soon as I could leave him, went to* my room. It was then that I deter* rained to come and see you. My people live in' Scotland and I knew very few people in London. Besides, you are an old friend of my husband. You can advise me what to do. Oh, Mr. Lawrence, please, do try and help me!" I commenced to talk to her quietly, like a father. I told her she'd laugh at that little quarrel to-morrow; I told her to go back home at once and get to bed; I exhorted her not to mention that she had come to see me; I asked her for her own sake, and for the Bake of everyone concerned, to pull herself together and be reasonable.

In tho end she came round and promised to-do as I had indicated. She seemed very upset at the thought of having placed me in such an awkward position, and swore to keep silent regarding her visit to my rooms. It must have been after one o'clock when she finally started for home in a taxi whicn* I somehow managed to procure. '.; ':•■.,

' The next I knew of the matter was a letter from Charles* solicitors informing me that I was co-respondent in an action for divorce which he (Charles) was taking against his wife. . And there we are ! I told you I was not the sort of man to be mixed up in a thing like that—but what could I do? I tried to see Charles but he was not to be seen. I tried to see his wife but she, also, was not to be seen. I went to see my solicitors: . they, at least, welcomed me with open arms 1 w . \ ... ; The case came on. , I do not wish to worry you, with the harrowing details of the proceedings. Suffice to say that the servants of Charles all appeared and gave evidence against me. :' It seemed an entirely new light to me that I was very often, and for long periods alone < with Sirs. Charles in their house, and that I made a point of calling there at times when Charles was away on business. My housekeeper gave evidence as to I how Mrs. Charles came to my flat at I eleven o'clock one night, and departed at one o'clock in a taxi. The driver of the taxi also gave evidence. And so it went on ...;.-■ ;..■;!... ;,/. ,:\- : *., ; ~ .

|f Charles got his divorce all right, and I was the villain of the piece. / , And now I come to the anti-climax. Mrs. Charles, now reduced to the rank of, Miss Alton from t her sins, drove in a taxi with me to my rooms, after the case. VI had been in love with her from the very beginning of our acquaintance, of course. She was such a brave little woman and besides, her figure was bo delightful, her age so inconsiderable, and her eyes so adorable, that * I could not help knowing that she was a jewel of priceless worth. :.."':'• : ""W"v:"..-v.': •:.

We had tea in my study, Mrs. Stevens acting the part of chaperons and being wonderfully cheerful in ' spite of the ordeal of the witness box. \ '...: .•":,:;.

After tea my housekeeper withdrew and I proposed to Hilda. I r.aid : V^ "lama bit of an ass hut I love you— Hilda. From the first moment I sa,w you I have loved you, although I never dared to mention the fact before. Now .- that you aTe free to marry again, I offer you myself, my little income, and my home. I long to marry ; you and to keep you henceforth from all harm and persecution. Will you be my wife ?" ' > She replied : \ . , .; "Dear Harold "—my name, please " you are the sort of man a woman is lucky beyond measure to meet ; you are so kind, so unassuming, so manly*. If you will allow me, I shall love you with the greatest love in the world. lam proud to accept your offer." - At this point came a knock on the door, and. without .waiting for, permission, the knocker entered. % It was Charles! I was extremely surprised to see him, of course, and so was Hilda. He gave me a curt ROtd-day, and then turned upon the lady he had just divorced. . "Why on earth didn't you -wait for me?'*':he demanded angrily. "I waited af,ea outside the law Courts for you to appear, and then was informed that you had driven off some time ago with our friend here. What is the meaning of it? You know perfectly well that you .arranged to come back home with me the minute the proceedings were over I '' '•' I stepped forward. " Charles," I said, firmly, " T cannot permit you to talk like this to Hilda. I would have you know that she has just consented to become my wife." J "Your wife," he shouted furiously. " Don't you know, you fool. tha; this divorce was all a put-up- job? I merely wished to know, at first hand, how a divorce suit went, how a wronged husband felt, how an inane co-respondent looked, how everyone behaved, so that I could depict it all exactly as it should be in the novel I am writintr! Hilda is coming home with me now. The play is ov<rr." He turned to Hilda. " Come," he ss.id, somewhat dramatically. " Let us go." ' I looked at my darling and was amazed to find her convulsed with laughter. In a little she recovered. She stood up. Sh« faced us.

"George," she said quietly, but. with a world of feeling in her voice. "I've been fooling you all the time. You arranged this farce so that you would be able to get the data for your latest novel. At first 1 concurred with your scheme- in spite of my natural repugnance at involving an innocent man in a divorce suit. When I sawMr. Lawrence, however, I determined to go on with the programme as arranged by you—up to a certain point. That point has been reached. All I wished for was my freedom. You are such a sol fish cad, such an intolerable egoist, that I cannot imagine now how I havn managed to live with you as long as I have. Mr. Lawrence onened my eyes to what a man could be. From the beginning I liked him very much, and then, later," shu dropped her eyes. " I grew to love him." "To love Lawrence," cried Charles, " Why, he's a mere nonentity, with no more brains than mv little finger!" Hilda looked up, her eyes flaiihing. " He's a man," she replied, tensely, " which you are not. He is chivalrous, gentle and thoughtful. He has asked me to become his wife, and I have consented gladly." -: | ■■■:.. ' -■■;■ <