SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18356, 23 March 1923, Page 5

SHORT STORY.

DIANA PROPOSES.

BY ANNIE S. SWAN.

(Copyright.) " Look here, Diana, you're not to dance with Hardress. I'm going to stroke his name off your programme." So spoke Dick Pomfrey, on the floor of the long gallery' where the County Ball *t Exminster was in full swing. He' had had only one dance with Diana and was trying to get another, holding her programme in his hand at the moment. The music was slowing down, and Diana had suddenly stopped breathless and asked to sit out for a few minutes. She was astonished and angry and looked at her old friend with stormy eyes. They were very pretty eyes, in fact Diana was adorable altogether, and was having a wonderful success at the County Ball, to the exclusion of others who thought themselves more entitled to it. For Diana was a nobody, the daugther of a naval officer who had been drowned at sea before he had a chance to achieve promotion. She lived in a little house in Exminster with her widowed mother, on a very small income, and this was her first appearance at the County Ball. It had been rendered possible by the gift of two tickets from a very great lady, one of the patronesses, and by a new frock from her only aunt, who had sent her a cheque from Scotland, telling her that she was to make the best of her opportunity. She was doing so, for she had never been off the floor since the ball began. And now Dick was making himself tiresome. " Stroke Captain Hardress' name off my programme if you dare, Dick Pomfrey, and, if you do it, I won't speak to you again." Dick's reply was to draw his pencil very deliberately through the name, which occurred no less than four times on the latter half of the programme. Diana's eyes began to flash dangerously. " Perhaps you'll kindly tell me the meaning of this insult," she said, in a voice choked with anger. " I can't—only I know you're not going to dance with that bounder," said Dick, in a voice of ominous quiet, in which, however, there was no relenting. Even in these days of plain speech and lack of camouflage where the sordid facts of life are concerned, Dick could not tell Diana about Hardress. " What right have you to be a censor over me, or anybody else, Dick Pomfrey ? I think you must have gone mad." " See here, Diana, you and I have always known one another, haven't we?" "Yes, worse luck," said Diana sullenly. "And we've been good pals too, haven't we I've stood by you, haven't I?" "Nobody asked you, but you have stood by—not without butting in," she added ungenerously. "I have a right to butt in, my dear, and you're not to dance with Hardress." " I'm not your dear, and I will dance with Captian Hardress; he s the best dancer on this floor. I'll thank you for my programme, Dick Pomfrey, and don't come near me any more to-night, for I won't speak to you, much less dance with you." She was angry, but, at the same time, a trifle curious. Also she had a certain admiration for Dick's courage, if not for his discretion. Didn't he know that the very best thing to make her pursue anything, was to forbid it? She knew that ho was both friend and lover, though in the latter capacity he was hopeless, judged from the worldly standpoint. The son of a poor rector, without private means, he had brains and comonsense, and the most loyal heart in the world. Many predicted a brilliant future for him, but as yet he had neither money, position, nor looksthree essential qualifications in a lover, judged from Diana'e viewpoint, for she was very tired of being poor. Dick was solid and plain, or rather a squat figure, with a j good, honest, kindly face, but very distinctly not a lover to be proud of, or to ' show off. Diana herself was by far the prettiest creature in that ballroom, and she was intoxicated with the attention she was getting. At the moment she had very little use for Dick. He saw that, and looking a little white, he said; " Can't you trust me, Di? I wouldn't ask such a thing if I hadn't a reason. Get you mother to speak to Lady Brayle about Hardress. I think you will' notice that none of the best people are dancing with him." , " None of the best people, mimicked Diana. " Now you are being a vulgar snob, Dick, as well as a butter-in. You're jealous of Captain Hardress, that's what you are, because he's so good-looking and dances so divinely. Try and curb it, Dickie, darling, it isn't becoming." Dick's face flushed and he turned away, leaving Diana where she was, regarding her amended programme with stormy eyes. Suddenly her mother crossed the now thinning floor and drew her to a chair. , . " What are you and Dick quarrelling about Di ?" Mrs. Walcot asked. She was a small colourless woman, totally incapable of handling a high-spirited girl. Diana was, in consequence, spoiled, and knew no law save her own. " Dick's a perfect idiot, mother. He thinks I ought to dance with nobody but him." " Let me gee your programme, dear, you're' having a good time, aren't you ?" "A perfectly ripping time; but don't look at the programme, mummy. It was that Dick and I fell out about. He started stroking out names." " Whose —Captain Hardress' ?" Diana was surprised at the mention of the name. " Wellyes, it was Captain Hardress' name. He's simply jealous because— well, because he hasn't got Captain Hardress' looks, or dancing step." At that moment a tall and decidedly handsome man crossed the floor, and presented himself with a slight bow : " Our dance, I think, Miss Walcot?" They went off together, and Mrs. Walcot sank back into her chair. Presently Dick Pomfrey came up to her. " I've offended Diana, Mrs. Walcot, but I had to tell her Hardress is an outsider. Please do tell her not to make herself conspicuous with him. His wife divorced him about two years ago, and it was a particularly sordid case." " Oh, how horrirl!" said Mrs. Walcot, uncomfortably. " But you know what Diana is, so self-willed. I can do nothing with her." Dick sat down, and there was a look of gloom on his kindly face. " Somebody ought to try to do something with her. It isn't good enough to get talked about here of all places. And she needn't, you know. She could have more partners than she knows what to do with." "I've told her that, Dick, but she won't listen. It always seems to me that, the more you want Diana to do something, the less she wants to do it. I've often wished that you and she—" . . " "I know," said Dick. " I want it myself, but I don't seem to have an earthly. You see, I haven't got anything yet to offer her. By the time I have, probably someone else will have got her." . "Dick, may I say something?"■>' • *' Surelywhy shouldn't you ? I'm here to listen, he said quietly. "You make yourself too cheap to Diana. Take my advice and leave her alone a bit—severely alone, you know. Don't drop in on Sundays, or any other time." "It'll be 'a bit hard, but at the moment I haven't got any alternative, Mrs. Walcot. Diana told me to clear put, as she didn't want me butting in." * ■ _ "Well, do it," said Mrs. Walcot,? with more animation than she usually displayed. . "Of course, that • doesn't mean

much from Diana, because she so often says just what comes • uppermost, without regard to anybody's feelings." - , "I'll try your remedy," said Dick. J think I'd better go . and dance a bit. I see Miss Milsom sitting over there. Wonder if she'd let me see her programme. He danced for the rest of the evening without going near Diana again or seeming to b© aware of her presence. He took someone into supper, and left immediately after. When the time came , for Diana and her mother to go she looked round in vain for Dick. "What's become of Dick, mother? Got the hump, hag he?" "1 know nothing about him, dear," she answered ooldly. "He seemed, to be dancing a good deal, and now he has either cone home or is sitting out with somebody." Diana was very restless all next morning, and after the early dinner which their straightened circumstances necessitated she began to watch from the window as if expecting some visitor. He arrived about four o'clock, in a little runabout car driven over from Exminster Barracks, the man against whom Dick Pomfrey had warned her. Mrs. Walcot tried to be very stiff to him, but Hardress had perfect manners and managed to conciliate her, so they had a pleasant hour over the teacups. She did not leave them a moment alone, however, but when he rose to leave Diana managed to slip out to the gate to look at the little two-seater car, and her mother missed hearing the appointment that was made for her to have a spin next day, meeting Hardress at a given point. This went on for some little time. Diana, intoxicated with her new admirer, only casually observed that Dick Pomfrey had ceased coming to the house. One day someone else came, in the shape of Lady Brayle from Exminster j Towers. Diana was not in, and she had therefore an opportunity of speaking alone to Mrs. Waloot. "I must be quite honest, Mrs. Walcot,"* she said, after the first greetings- "I came to talk to you about your girl ana Captain Hardress. I'm hearing, in all sorts of places, that she is going about alone with him in the car. I m sure you can't know ; girls are so independent nowadays and think, when we intervene, that we are only tiresome fussers. But he isn't a fit companion for your child, Mrs. Walcot. I wouldn't have him at Brayle under any circumstances. I was very angry when the Consetts brought him to the ball, and I spoke very frankly to Mrs. Consett about it." "I'm very sorry, Ladv Brayle, but- I don't seem to have mucn contol over mj girl. It is quite true what you say about them being so headstrong in these days." "But surely when you point out to her what kind of man he is. There are all sorts of stories about him, and I knew his poor wife well. He simply broke her heart. The dividing line has to be marked somewhere in our social relations, Mrs. Walcot, and I would most certainly draw it at Captain Hardress." "I wish Diana would come in, then youi could talk to her. She won't listen to me." "She would not be likely to listen to me either. I will see or write to Captain Hardress. If I were you, Mrs. Walcot; I'd send or take your daughter away for a time." An easy suggestion, but where would the money come from for such an expedition? Mrs. Walcot only faintly acquiesced. Evidently Lady Brayle put some machinery into operation, for almost immediately Hardress' calls at Glebe Cottage ceased, and he disappeared out of Diana's life as if he had never been in it. But, like a serpent, he left a trail behind, a trail of restlessness and dissatisfaction and peevishness. About a month later he sent a brief note to Diana, containing only this message : "Dear little girl, "Enemies have been at work between us, and I've got to transfer to another regiment, so we shan't meet any more. It was very sweet while it ' lasted. Good-bye. C. Hardress." Diana cried over that letter, and was very indignant about it,' blaming her mother, Dick Pomfrey, anybody, excepting herself. She did not think of Lady Brayle, because Mrs. Walcot, with more discretion than she usually evinced in relation to Diana, had not mentioned her visit. • u , '' * It was then, in her loneliness and disappointment, that Diana began to miss her faithful friend. *- "I think at's perfectly abominable thb way Dick Pomfrey has behaved, mother,'' she cried indignantly one day. " After the ,way he used this house, exactly as _ if !it were his own. I'll jolly well tell him about it; first chance I get." I "You . won't be likely to get a chance now, dear," her mother, answered placidly. "You told him not to come neat you ; that you had no more use for him." "Who told you that?" - "He told me . himself the ; ball." "Did he? Well, he's a perfect idiot to take it like ' that. I * only meant he was to leave me alone there." ' "He took it seriously. He thought the same as Lady Brayle about that horrid man, Hardress.".. . 1 "What did Lady Brayle say to . you about it at the 'ball? You're keeping things from me, mother." "She said nothing about it at the ball. She came here to say it, explaining how people were talking, and how thoroughly bad it wag for a girl's prospects to be seen even speaking to a • man like Hardress. She does not invite him to Brayle, and she. would not let her own daughters recognise him. She says the line has to be drawn < somewhere." Mrs. Walcot could see that Diana was duly impressed. "I think it rotten of Dick, anyway, and I'll tell .him so the next time I see him. "I shouldn't if I were you. You've made yourself cheap , enough with one man. Besides, Dick hasn't any more use for you. I met him,, only the other Sunday afternoon, walking in Mead Lane with Freda Milsom." At this monstrous suggestion Diana's eyes flashed. It was a master-stroke on her mother's part. She did not add that Freda's sister, Dora, and a couple .pf dogs had also been of the merry party she had met in Mead Lane. But it all gave Diana furiously to think. Very gradually the meretricious figure of Captain Hardress was eliminated from the girl's imagination, and Dick took his place. She was furious with Dick, simply because he nad taken her dismissal too literally, and, like a spoiled child bereft of a toy she had not prized, she began to invest him with all sorts of virtues and charms he ■ did not Cossess. On Saturday afternoon she met im in Mead Lane, heading for a wicketgate in the wall which gave entrance to the Milsoms' grounds. She would never have admitted that she had wandered there of a set purpose on a Saturday afternoon, knowing that Dick was free then,* and that, if there was any truth in her mother's suggestion, he might be going that way to the Milsoms' house. Dick, meeting her, simply raised his hat politely, but Diana, with flashing, indignant eyes, stood stock still in the middle of the path, so that he could not pass her without giving the cut direct. "I suppose you think you are being very clever, Dick Pomfrey. I can assure you all you achieve is rudeness!" "Sorry!" said Dick, and smiled. .Now, when Dick smiled his face became extraordinary pleasant, even winning. It maddened Diana that he should smile just then, however, instead of being properly subdued and penitent, as he used to be, under her rebuke. "I suppose you are going to tea with these new friends of yours?" "New friends! —the oldest I've got; and jolly good friends, too." "Oh, all right. We don't count now, I suppose. Do you think you've treated my mother well ?" v . "She hasn't anv fault to find with me. I met her yesterday, and she was over so nice as she always is." "Oh, well, I'd better not keep you from your precious friends." "I'm in no hurry. If you'll take a walk with me, Diana, for old time's sake, I'd be pleased. I promise not to butt in anywhere, but to keep my proper and respectful distance." ;T . Nobody likes to be laughed at, and Diana flushed hotly at" the mere suggestion that Dick - should dare to laugh at her. And yet into the back of her mirfd there crept a new respect. - "I was going for a walk,: but the Milsoms—'' ' '

"" , . .. . 7." . ,r, 'They * don't u expect &me particularly. I've a standing invitation there, same a* I used to have at the Glebe Cottage." "Mother didn't turn you- down fromV there, Dick." I v . n >: "No, but yoa did. ; Come, on, then, , Di, and we'll go as fair as Coppett's Hill, and if old Granny ;,Marples at the Inn is in ? decent mood, we'll get heir."to give tea." , Diana turned gladly. Her' pride was all gone—where she id not know. She only knew it wiis amazingly sweet to be walking by Dick's side again, and began to invest his iinheroic figure with qualities it : did not, possess. No Milsom should ever get or keep him. How dared they at tempt it ? • : W/ The way led them through a pretty bit of. woodland, and they stopped* as they had. often stopped, on a little rustic bridge over the stream, Somehow talk did not flourish. Dick almost wished he had not come, for Diana's proximity . Was mora dangerous than "ever *to his peacft;pf mind. For months he had held to his vow, and absence' had certainly mafls his heart grow fonder. "Quite like old times, isn't it, Di ?" he said, lightly. \Z _ "No, it isn't—it's rotten?— like old times* at all. I wish I hadn't come." 1 "Let's go back, then," suggested Dick, the ever-ready and accomodating. "Go back yourself! I'll go to the top of the hill alone." .. "Oh, why, Diana ? What have I done now ? I wasn't conscious of 'butting in anywhere. Perhaps I oughn't to have asked you to walk with me, but it was up to you to refuse. . u Shut up!" said Diana, inelegantly. Then quite suddenly she unlifted her eyes to Dick's face, with a queer little, adorable appeal. "Dick, I'm just the same old Di, horrid in parts but good in parts. And I'm sorry, but I've been a proper pig.' Oh, Dick, I can't let any horrid Milsom g*irl have you. You belong to me, and I want—l want desperately to belong to you." You do," said Dick, and gathered her in his arms and held her close. And the little brown rabbits, scuttering across the path, were the only witnesses who could have testified that it was Diana who really proposed.