SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18521, 4 October 1923, Page 14

SHORT STORY.

THE PHILANDERER^

\ ] *' BY JAY DUNCAN.

• \ ' ' ; '.." : "-' (Copyright.) l '"'.., , _ There is a great deal 0 I talk todays :-t about rhythm in; everytnmg. Well, X -: don't know about that but arfflf own H easel observe the strange fact, = *»»* - everything IE For instance, if 1 mane a , >""" ~_ deal. I immediately have a second; if I ; have a specially interesting invitation, I ■ am certain to receive just ; such another by tho same or the following post, ..-Then as to my love affairs, but thereby hangs mv tale, which I shall proceed to unfold. I am a stockbroker, still young,, and eligible in every way, so I am led to understand, and have a very, good bustncss of my own.: ; . v _

I have a comfortable flat in which • a middle-ap;ed housekeeper attends to my more material wants. People have told me I ought to marry, but with so many beautiful' and ,' interesting women, it is rather difficult to make up one's mind whom to choose.

To.be perfectly accurate, I should explain 4that, there are, ._ of, course, two women, in my life. " Some people might ironically calf them my Sunday'girl,'and week-day girl, but really, it is just that in my case, as I have said, things always happen in doubles. First of all there is Edith Carson, beautiful as a dream, tall and stately, hair which reminds me of a dark but perfumed night, sparKiing eyes, and witty manner—the ideal companion. Edith has always carried everything in front of her; men went down like ninepins before her charm, and somehow it always gave me a feeling of the utmost satisfaction to know that I was singled out for the first place. '.''•:.. t In everything she deferred to me. She got into a habit or ringing me up saying she was lonely, and would I lake her out to .tea? Or would I como to dinner, and do a theatre afterwards? These were glorious days, and it was very pleasant to drive home with Edith resting in tho crook of my arm. When she lifted her lovely eyes to mine, what could I do but kiss her. She liked it; we both liked it, but at that time I do not think either of us had thought about, matrimony. We were blissfully content to drift. '

Things were progressing so when Inez Lorimer came to my firm, and from the first I found her distractingly beautiful. She was the exact antithesis of Edith in colour; and small and dainty; just the kind of little thing a man wants to protect and shield. She was a 'good worker, > • and soon I had monopolised her as my ' ■ own private secretary. Each day was a dream just to sit looking at her as her fingers flew to my dictation. But as I could not dictate all day V . long, I soon made excuses tohave her near me, giving her all sorts of. work to do. - Inez had a. head for figures, and putting everything else aside, it was a 'decided ;■ help and advantage to have her there. ; For long after she came I found it diffi- j cult to make headway; her friendship was I •' not easy to win, and she impressed me as ■: the sort of girl who would stand no non- '-. sense. I got to hate each Sunday because • I could not he at business, and each Saturday because it gave me less of her society. But that is not to say, of course, that I did not enjoy my Saturdays and £.;.. Sundays with Edith. , ■■»-•—<': ■_■ .V. ': i' -3 One hot summer day as I sat busily ' dictating to Inez,; a tremendous ; storm broke. It was well on in. the afternoon, and I was rushing to get through in time. '*'"'■ The thunder crashed above us and the * .'"" lightning was very vivid. ' \ • . " Oh, please," said Inez, "I have not *; been getting what you are saying." ■'!'• Glancing up I saw she was deathly pale • * and trembling. '', • "V.- " Surely Miss Lorimer," said I, " you are not afraid, are you?*.' /. " I admit I am, horribly]"" she replied. *: "I once got rather a fright;- with light-' 'rung; and since then I am tool in ~a stornuy Forgive me, am afraid. I cannot work just now."" 5 "-*'- . ' ■' '.f', v I had risen and was walking about : the, J •■ loom as she talked. A dreadful peal of IV thunder shook the air, followed by a , l , blinding flash, and Inez gave a slight ■ = scream. ' "'■'" ■ j . ' "Why Miss Lorimer," said I, "don't '.-;: be afraid: it cannot barm you here." I ' ; •;■ placed an arm round - her quivering ' shoulders as she sat crouched against the v, wall, her hair ruffled and her blue eyes in : ;¥■ -a panic. She /seemed unconscious that my ?- arm was round her, so v I gathered her I' ' close into my,, arms. Her hair brushed p,' my cheek., and prudence went to the -"'»:-■ -'■■■ wfnds. My lips sought and found hers. »' They were deliriously warm and soft and 1 v thrilled me through and through. I was .. * too happy -.'even to sneak. The storm I rumbled, on into the distance, and soon ■'■■'* , tbft sun shone out again. ' '*< Inez was the first to recover herself., * %. " Oh, what must you think of me f I •v- have done wrong to allow this," saidshe, • ' as she tried to pull herself out "of my ':'. ■f-,. . arms. ■'" "■■■;. ' * "Don't go Inez, dear," I said. " 1 have longed for just such a minute since '*'■- ever you came here. We .cannot go'back ■ , "to the old footing. You.perfectly glorious * creature, we must be friends now, dear. ,''•'* Won't you let me love you? Work would '»•: bs so much pleasanter for both of us.'■■_.■: • .1 She blushed rosy red, \{ and rising ." hurriedly said she must go and transcribe ••■ \ ;'; my letter's. ■; '*•'" ;'■■■■. ■':■• j}.-." ' r '\ y ' "'» :■'.'•' . " Inez,_come and have "tea with' me .'* somewhere, just to confirm our bargain," . v : I said, on her return with the letters. ; This was just the beginning of many ' ' little outings together, and perhaps what * gave an addeH; thrill was the secrecy, of '. :'.•■.' ft aii. ' ~-: : %;&;\- r: ■• , ■.'--". < ' Each morning 'I waked with the deli- "■%':. cious knowledge that during the day r I ; would get kisses and sweet, shy looks. V I ■J' walked the streets as if on;air; no work »• was too heavy" for. me. '■ '*•%•?;: '■ •'.-■ For the life of- ma I conld not say : which of these girls 'Hp : loved best. .;, i I ';' meant to marry one of them, -but which, I could not say. I hope£ for' a; sign and believed it would be given to help—my '' decision, but. until .then, things would go, • merry as a wedding bell. ' ''"''' One Saturday evening I was leaving the theatre with Edith, and as I helped, her ; into my car, my eyes met Inez's look of ; astonishment across the, pavement. Her inopportune presence was certainly awkr ward. Also her look!rather? haunted me, ■ and I longed for Monday morning to have an explanation with her. . \-< ■" ', Strange to say after this, I imagined ', Inez avoided mc, and camp less to my room, and although sho smiled as usual, she never permitted my. kisses now.. She ■■-.. was more adorable and desirable somehow in consequence, but my tongue seemed' tied when it came to asking her an ex- ;.. planation of her change towards me.'.;" '" • .-,;.■.'. I had just returned from an evening at •;; Edith's homeland was glad to get in. • ; WhaT a night of rain and . cold -it * was; ~. enough to freeze a'; man's, bones. My ;':» housekeeper, thoughtful woman,, /""had a :■ i large fire roaring up the chimney, and my ■> ; big armchair pulled well up in front. "• Even tho sight of it was luxury. But my ".''■■l feelings>were chaotic. Edith's father, un- .:/■'■■ fortunately, had seen her reclining . against me in the drawing room just as he 'entered, and ere departing had made me ''■'.'■■ • understand that I would bo a very '/:■■; •welcome addition to the family circle in: .!■ a*Jr-ibe 'shape of a son-in-law. ■ r -H/'&Tl sat cogitating in my mind. The die ■ ','■'. must be-cast;''l must settle at once V T whether it was to be Edith or Inez. - ; ■•*■■. After thinking hard' and "'weighing the '■=••?' pros and cons,-., 1 reluctantly-decided that. -•• taking -all in. all, it must'be-: Edith. I r "''/•■shuddered at what would be'the result for " : ■'... me-'in the 'office; Well, if was ,foj bo aJI dark deeds, if. must be dpne

quickly. • I would go on ; the morrow and ask Edith to; marry me;>:I; well knew what her answer would be. . .

> It was done; We'- were married and the honeymoon over, and • once more 1 was back in my office, fearful of the reception by Inez. During my absence she had been working in another department, and seemed reluctant to return as my secre-

tary. One morning J, rang for her as usual, and we talked of various matters. Her attitude was coldness ? and politeness itself; she even congratulated me on my marriage. I soon saw that I was to bo kept at arm's length, and somehow the knowledge hurt me. ... On every , occasion she avoided me, never let her eyes meet mine, nor by any chance spoke, unless absolutely necessary. She also was growing thin and pale and ill-looking, _ and my heart smote me. I grew frantic. . To make matters worse, as time went on, I discovered I had committed a ghastly blunder, and that my real love was for Inez. My wife was nothing to me. ■'~ , I pled with Inez for her love, but in her lofty dignity she spurned me. I could not -work, and business at last suffered. Clients coming to the office thought me queer, and took their business elsewhere. Life was not worth living, and each evening I loathed the thought of going home to mv wife— wife whom I now hated. I decided after anxious thought, to take my life, and accordingly stayed late at the office to do it. Everyone was away for the night. I first went and looked long at Inez s little desk, and reverently kissed tho chair she used. Would she miss me, I wonder? At last I stole back to my room and locked the door. My papers ' had long since been put in good order, my wife provided for, and a legacy left to Inez among others of the staff. Calmly I drew the revolver. Crash! ■ a , What on earth was that? A largo coal had tumbled out of the fire. Heavens above be praised! It was a dream. I was still free, and best of all I had received my sign. It- was plain I must marry Inez, and my heart rejoiced. You, .my readers, who are of a sympathetic nature, will, I know, feel for mo in my relief and rejoice that the way to a splendid devotion was opened up for me, but alas! that your sympathy should be so short-lived. I hurried to my office eager to lay my love under the little feet of Inez. As she entered by room I was conscious immediately of a new beauty. Her eyes had never seemed shine so brightly, nor did her cheeks ever have such an exquisite rose-petal bloom. My dream was suddenly shattered by seeing a sparkling half-hoop, on her third finger. " Inez," I cried, " have you been playing with me all this time," as I pointed at her engagement ring.' She smiled gently, and then said: . " In several ways you showed me that I was the plaything of your office hours. This position I refused to occupy, and yon must, admit I have kept you at arm's length since I became aware of that fact. I suppose the relation of employer and employee is like the relation of East and West, never meant to mix in marriage." , She quietly closed the door behind her, and I sat stunned. "

The tinkling of the telephone roused me from my reverie. . " Yes, hallo, Edith," I answered, and my stricken heart gave a bound for perhaps after all, hothwithstanding my dream, I should find solace here. "That you dear? " said Edith's voice. Just rung up because I wanted ■ you to be the first to hear my great news. I have now risen to the estate of an engaged voung lady. Eric has just gone. What?" Oh, a trunk call. ATI right. See you later then." , I softly swore as I laid down the receiver;; '':'■'•' .v' '.':"■' "■"•. '.**■■" - .•'..

And that is how life goes on with me. Everything of importance, as I said before, happens in doubles. ' '■ .