SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18494, 3 September 1923, Page 11

SHORT STORY.

, rjHE SLEEPING PRINCESS. ' ■ BY PAMELA TYNAN HINKSON^ - f;^ ; /?:-/ ; -v: (Copyright.) v'^:'^t%'' ~' •' «' The girl is as cold as ice,'' Mrs. Bick 1•v aid " in s P ito °* ih ° S ° eyes '"/' '■'■ : -.'•','' : '■■' '" "perhaps shs's a man-hater," someone -' else suggested. \:f ',' «I don't think so." Little Mrs. Gra- -/, ham who wrote books and had an inncanny wav of looking on at all life as '.; :'.:can'v ."**•»■. " i '••■■■• ■'»' , though it were a play, spoke up from Iter corner of the verandah. "I bell we . you're all wrong. She's not cold, V' although «he may appear to be so. Shi's - not » man-hater, either. I think sin's just ' The Sleeping Princess.' " . '«The Sleeping Princess? " ; / "Yes. Waiting for the Prince to

awaken her." But she's 25," Mrs. Dick said sharply<:And a child for her age. You'll acknowledge that, in spite of her looks. She and Captain Melville were dancing to the gramophone when I was there the other night. I really felt sorry for xi» poor boy, who is desperately in love with her—or thinks.he is. Every now and then she'd break away from him to throw »ball for that absurd puppy of her's. la ; lis excitement of playing with the puppy she'd forget all about Captain Melville, yet she fikos men well enough to play iennis and ride with and dance with." "But not as men," Mrs. Murphy put. in. ~:. Mrs. Graham turned a serious face to her. M That's been puzzling me, too," she said. n Perhaps you're right to a certain extent. I've an idea she likes them well enough until they remind her she's a woman instead of another boy by making love to her. It's only a certain instinct of the primitive female manifesting itself more strongly in her than in others, I imagine. She's never been in love in the very least, but when she does, ma foi! " Mrs. Graham lifted her pretty brows comically. " How do you know so much about Che girl! " Mrs. Dick asked curiously. Mrs. Graham laughed. " I know no more Of her than the rest of you. But it's my business I suppose to study people, and she interests me. This is all guess work, but I believe you'll find I'm right."

"I shouldn't wonder," Mrs. Murray said with an unwilling air. "But who will be the Prince! " Mrs. Graham started to say something and stopped abruptly. Feeling the curious eyes of the other ladies upon her, she spoke hastily, but it was not what she had been going to say. : " Oh the Prince -I haven't seen the ;; Prince yet. ' ;.,; It was not true, but she did not want 'to share the idea, which had come to her with the other ladies of the station. It teas so much more fun to watch The game " alone, and if they ' thought of it they

might spoil things; one never knew. .pff One indiscreet word or suggestion ~ and - Mary Winniard would bo off liksT'the wind, as Mrs. Graham pui it'to : herself, and spoil all her plans. The writing of many love stories had made Mrs. Graham incurably romantic, and she had meant those two for each other even since tho first time she had seen May Winniard at a dance given in Her honour a week after she had come out from Home. There had been a secret tenor in Mrs. Graham's heart in those.early/days, lest someone should get in before Arthur Cunningham: came back from his leave. It seemed only too likely if one were to judge by the queues that- waited to dance with her. Is she going Co set the place on fire?" Mrs. Graham asked, watching from a seat near the wall. " I begin to feel pleasantly thrilled where did she get those eyes? ** . ..,'-.

The person addressed, Mrs. O'Hara, the doctor's wife, laughed, From her Irish mother, I suppose. ; Eyes : like that are quite common at home, you know." " Good Heavens," Mrs. Graham said seriously, "it oughtn't to be, allowed. -No wonder Englishmen lose their hearts when they go over there." ■[:..', Then she spoke to herself—an odd habit of hers, fit should be fire and tow," she said, "fire and tow.'",, v She was not aware that she had spoken aloud and she did not explain her- meaning to Mrs. O'Hara, nor did that lady ask in erplanation. People were so used to .Mrs.- Graham's odd ways. That night when Mr.': Hugh Graham was having his last whisky ancl soda before going to bed, she asked the question which had been trembling on her lips all

the evening. ••.' » "Tell me, Hugh, when is Major Cun- '■' ningham coming back? "Cunningham? Oh, he's due back in about a week— *' . "Oh, nothing! I was jusfc wondering." .

, "Did someone tread en yoM toes tonight, old lady? la that it? " " Major Cunningham's the best dancer in the station," she said,.seriously.', "hoi tempting you, Hugh." 'Oh, I ran you that," ho said good humouredly. " You won't make me jealous. By the way, the Colonel's a rasher man than I thought." "Why?" - - .;■:; "She'll play the devil with the battalion, Half of them are in love with her already; Between that ana* the heat—" M«. Graham laughed. ' ".,.. . :.■: ' She'll be coming to the hills with the rest of us, presently, I suppose," she said. That will be a reprieve. Besides, what could Colonel Winniard do? Isn't she his daughter? "

- '' Where was she up till now? " "With an aunt, I believe. A very dutiful aunt who took her up to London every tar for the season. Mary didn't want to go. She was much happier in the country with her horses and dogs. Last year she rebelled, and announced her ;:.'■,. intention of coming out to her father W * whether he liked it or not." t£ ' H'm, I don't suppose he -minded m -.Much," Hugh Graham said, "to judge W hy the way he looks, at her. Well, we'll m see."

> Th£t was several dayu before the conversation recorded in the first portion of v this story, and May Winniard was still . the chief topic of conversation. it was V quito true that all the men were in love w 'th her, or thought they were, as Mrs. Graham put it. " For I. don't believe in Requited love," she declared. " There **"lßt be some encouragement." ..». There was certainly none at all, so far .*> May Winniard was ; concerned. She •*W xeady to laugh and play with JEem,!

and she was' the t best 1 comrade in the world. She /< would ride and play, tennis and, dance iridefatigably, and was always ready, for a ; moonlight ? picnic, ~ or some such amusement. ;: But,- as Mrs. Graham said humorously, they might as well have had a daylight picnic for all the 'satisfaction they got out of it. Even the most amorous young man .began to feel ' something of a fool before'- the laugh tei? "in Miss ■; Winniard's eyes, those wonderful, dark, blue-grey eyes, which :" came from her Irish mother , '

.'.: Sometimes even" Mrs. ; Graham'■' b»san to be a little, doubtful. ■ Could it ybe possible that there .was nothing in the/girl ' after all, that.she was riot capable of any real feeling? "We shall' see when Arthur Cunningham comes back," she told 'herself ; " They'd make /a. fine pair. ■ And he's the man to value her coldness. I'll swear she's never been kissed." v .'*: :

She broke off, and laughed to herself. She was wont to say/ that /she had /a thousand romances in hor life, and it was quite- true that " she was •, almost as in-, terested in the play as though she had been an actor. -

" I have never made a mistake," sho told herself during those days while she waited for the man's coming" yet." But sho had not made a mistake. There never seemed to bo, any doubt about Major Cunningham's feelings from the first time he met Mary Winniard at the Grahams' dinner-table, and she sang for them afterwards in the drawing room. From where she sat Mrs. Graham could see his lean profile, as he lounged in -a. deep chair, slightly turned towards the piano. When the girl had finished he stood up and watched her as she came down the room. For all the world like Dante and Beatrice," Mrs. Graham said to .herself, and felt oddly alarmed. . It was quite obvious that he had forgotten that there was anyone else in the room. The girl took the chair- he pulled forward for her, and.sat looking down at her hands, as though she were afraid to lift her eyes. "Good Lord," ' . Mrs. Graham said .to herself humorously, "I must have the second -eight."' She could not have . imagined that the attraction would be so quick, so' mutual as this. , In tho- days that followed Mary Winniard rede with Major Cunningham in the early mornings, played tennis with him,, danced with him, and sat out with him until it became a. recognised thing but it there was any love-making, no one had ever come upon it. As a matter of fact, there was not, although the good comradeship of those early days had long since given way to a deeper feeling. Arthur Cunningham was going quietly, perhaps because he was so sure of her in the end, and he had a feeling that this Sleeping Princess ' was not ready to come awake yet. She was not ready for lovemaking, even from him. Her coldness drew her to him more than anything else could have done. His " untouched rose " he called her in his own mind, arid the simile was a good one. The lily would have been too colourless tor Mar? Winniard. The Station had * turned its attention to something else at last,, wearied with long waiting, and only Mrs. Graham still watched with those wonderfully sharp eyes of hers, which were yet so gentle and understanding. "//.. :f'

" The man's too patient," she said to herself one night, watching them as they danced together. Arthur Cunningham was looting down at ; the dark head against Ins shoulder and his eyes were a revelation. Mrs. Graham was as thrilled asi though she were a girl in love. "He could carry her off her feet, if he had a mind to, unless the girl is made of stone! " j«;. .~--■/?-■■'•■••■^ ■ - ■■;.__.; *'-' :-•■ It was a* question that Mary Winniard asked herself more than once in those days. She liked Arthur Cunningham, oh, immensely—at • times she was almost certain that she loved him, yet when he would have ■■■. taken, her in his arms something made her draw back—something of the strange distrust of all men; that Mrs. GiraVam had discovered in her,; ; .If ha wore only playing with her after all {•', She hid a feeling that once she had* been 'Yin: his arms and been kissed, she, who had* never been' kissed vby A Aiy V; man, she would have to.' give him everything she was ; capable ■{[ of ;-",; giving in the way of feeling. 1 He, had awakened her and the coming ; awake was;; •a painful process. v." Mrs. Graham had been right when she said : that -Mary liked men and well enough until they reminded I her that she was a woman. Bub she had. never been in love —or oven fancied herself in lovebefore. . Sometimes she thought, half-humorously, that it would savo trouble if he would refuse to , take " no " for an answer when she ropulsed his caresses. It would be less terrifying ths.n this air of "■ endless patience. He knesw be would win in the end, and in her' heart she knew it too, which perhaps accounted for the strange hatred she felt for him at times—this man who was going to conquer, her, to break down the barriers where other men had failed. It was about this time that there occurred one of those : small outbreaks which are periodical in the life of India and' one of the regiments of the Station ' which 'was not' Major Cunningham's was ordered north. •

That night in ■ the Colonel's, bungalow a number of men sat late over the table. They had forgotten the other room, 1 and the girl beyond the open door. '"The Fifth are; short ;of an officer, White being on leave," one of them said,' refilling his glass. "I hoar Cunningham's volunteered to fill his place, Colonel. Is it true? *.* * The Colonel nodded. " Dashed dangerous work,','-someone else , muttered. These things cost us more than a small war." - '■■'■'...':">■ :h- : ■ ;; 'A';<P

Id the other room a girl bad leaped to her feet and stood for a moment, her hard pressed against her heart. Her eyes had darkened as they did if she was cold or in pain. They were almost black. Could they hear her heart Beating, those men who talked so lightly -over : their wine? He had volunteered—and he had not told '.., her—and it was "a- dashed dangerous job." .' Dr. : 6'Hara's words sang in her ears. And she had been cold to him. Otherwise she might have been his wife by now. Oh, she knew now how much she loved him Why, it would be better to be his widow than never to have been his at all. ; -

Major Cunningham was writing a letter by the liffht of a.shaded lnmp on ri-'s table, a letter whin gave him the most immense difficulty, to judge by the number Of the pages of torn paper on the floor beside him, when the sound of a light step on the verandah behind 'him tur:a his head. . For a moment he stared at the white figure as though he had seen a • ghost. Then he leapt to his feet. "•'i Miss Winniard— " She put out her hands with a gesture which* he understood. There was all surrender in it. . • "I saw. your light— she stammered. " You are going to-morrow—" ''■ Why, yes," he said, and steadied her very gently. ■ Then he put his hands behind his back with an odd movement which for the first time she understood. Sh.s had not known what it had cost him, jill these weeks'. ; '. ' "• '.'./' ;'■ - ;

■:,- / ■.:.■..:"■.:.. •-.'-.■.',....'•■-■•'■.'.■.-• ~.: '■ •.' ■-Vi,''.>>■;•*'■■ " I ■ was writing ft; letter—" ;he l>egan,' waving - his hand> towards the, table, then he broke down. " Oh, my God, Mary." The Sleeping ; Princess, awake Jafi/last, • flung herself into his arms. " "You would ; have gone , without -y telling' me," she; sobbed. "To think that I had to come to you/' • J?" You are sure attest?/?; he whisjjiered; holding her to him 'eq, close that oiji hurt her. " I tried, to kiss you once—di> you r remember? •*«!■'

She turned' her .face, to him then; and lay in his arms, her eyes closed, while he kissed her lips/her eyes, her hair. At last he put her from him with ; an immense effort. " I will take you home now," he said steadily;! He was suddenly terrified lest anyone should find them there/ At any moment the ; youth i[ who shared , quarters : with - him might ■: <:omo. And he did riot want her, talked about— his tPrincess! '/.,/. " ' . \ "" ''. - . "I have only been here one minute," she pleaded, " and to-morrow—" // she shivered.'■ /// '::■/' }■'■ ;-■•/. '"'■'■}■'■ ■■■■i>./'■

~ .■" I*shall be back within a. week,''/he said. " You. will see." Then he tuirned his back on her for a moment. * ' L ■■'•'■ '"•

"Don't make it harder for me, Mary," he said in voice that was oddly unlike hid own.

; She laid a timid hand on his arm. " I am ready, Arthur," she whispered, and he lifted her hand and held it to his lips for a moment. Then he stood aside lor her to pass out before him. They were married almost immediately after the regiment came back from that expedition which had proved merely a demonstration after' all. " I wonder how he proposed at last," Mrs! Graham said to herself as they came down from the altar, Mary glowinj; like a rose., ;'"•'-'■ But that was something she was never to know.