A GIRL OF TO-DAY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 19061, 4 July 1925, Page 5 (Supplement)

A GIRL OF TO-DAY.

BY STUART CAPEL.

(Copyright.) A pretty little woman marched briskly into a tea Jiousc, and sat down smartly in the first vacant seat at tho first table. Her quick, keen eyes rapidly took stock of her surroundings. You would have known at once that observation was a strong point with her. Also, that she was a girl who had the knack of getting things dohe. Though practicality was the key-note of this girl's character, there came into her eyes, now and again, a winsomeness of expression that saved the face from too definite a worldliness. This winsomeness was discernible as she gazed at the young man seated at her side. There was a sort of manly fragility about him—lie sat with a stoop, and gave rather the impression of having suffered in the war. He was swallowing innumerable cups of China tea.' Now and then he gave a half confused glance at the girl, jnd, then, rapidly swallowed his confusion with more tea. He gave her the impression that at one time of his life ho might have been in the habit of hurrying, but now was purposely taking life leisurely. She had had her cup of tea and bread and butter,' and now briskly hailed the little waitress, who, brisk herself, immediately responded to her call. She received her check only to discover that her purse had • disappeared. "Oh, dear! " she muttered, gazing helplessly about her, her eye catching that of the fragile, young man at her elbow. Ho smiled, and examining the check, drew the necessary coins from his pocket. " Embarrassing, isn't it?" he said and handed her the money. "Yes, makes one go hot and cold all over,, " sfce answered with a sigh of relief. She remained chatting for a few minutes out of gratitude to him for coming so gracefully to her assistance. "Will you give me your card? I'll pay you hack. Perhaps you'll want a free tea one day," she laughed. "Exceedingly probable. Many a true word's'spoken in jest, you know." He laughed. She instantly became serious, her eyes full of that winsomeness. He laughed again, noticing her expression. He had observation, too. "Yes, I wonder. Anyhow, Til have plenty of tea for a time," he said, swallowing more cups of it. She gave him a questioning glance. "Yes, I'm putting my last two hundred pounds into a teashop." Her interest was instantly awakened. " Tea-shop ? Why tea-shop ? They want managing." "It's better to put your money in what you know something about. i invested my army pension in a tea-shop. It went west." He gave that quaint short laugh of his.

Her sense of the practical was puzzled. But, if the shop didn't pay before ? You lost your money you say ?" "Yes, but that's the only thing I've had any experience in, except farming, of course. But that's out of the question now. I'm not the hustler I used to be." "Oh," she said reflectively, studying him so closely that he was conscious of a certain senso of embarrassment.

"Where is this tea-house?" she asked. "It isn't exactly a tea-house yet, but it is perefctly adaptable for that purpose. I think it has been used as a sort of teahouse, as a matter of fact." I'Where is it?" she insisted . "There's no harm in telling you," he said, giving her the address on a piece of paper. As a matter of fact, I've an appointment with the landlord to-morrow morning. Im in with one or two catering firms, you know. That's where experience comes in. Oh, I hope to make a lot of money." "You're optimistic if you hope that," thought the girl. "If it is all you say it is, why do the present people wish to get rid" of it'" she asked.

"I never thought of that. I'iti sure I haven t the slightest—no, I couldn't say. / m very glad, because it is about my last chance. I can. seo that. I've no weighty relations, or anything of that sort,; you know. In fact, I haven't any relations of any description." "No, you don't look as if you had, you wouldn t look like that if you had. You want looking after, young man—that's " with she thought. ..m , ' h,sJl nevcr do -" she said aloud. Thank you so much, Sir Knight, for coming to my rescue." "I wish you good luck with the teahouse. She was gone in a jiffy. -tier companion watched her go with a smile on his lips. "Inquisitive little party! That kid could make any show go," he thought. Punctuality, with all his non-hurrying propensity, and a matter of principk with I asil Sinclair, and he arrived at the shop the following morning, as the clock struck uelve, which was the hour he and the nlpHnn f fi! upon for thc con >" pietion of the deal.

"The brute! He's late! s ' muttered Basil, when 12-15 had chimed. fr > r another fifteen minutes, and then it occurred to him to knock at the door of the house adjoining the shop. The landlord lived there, but was out at the moment. "Infamous!" But the fellow had left a note. "Ah'—a note of apology and explanation." of tot devil a bit disgust. hurled f,h ° " ote into <ho gutter in "lie little devil! But smart, by tS*!" ; about tho co "fidence

He started homeward at a slightly accelerated pace. The contents of the note had had the effect, of making him feel chilly rather than heated. ' "My chance gone! The little devil'" he repeated.

In effect the letter said that a Miss at termi ? ""v® ®", ° ffer f ° r tho sho P at terms extraordinarily advantageous to nltnrf ;• an {' , thero , fore > , !l e had had no or 1 6 to close with it. 'Lush well—Marjory Lushwell— that's the name all right. Damn .'-damn !" he murmured all the way home. "I would not have thought it of her."

"Well you must remember I started with a.big advantage, mum. You see, my father, John Lush',veil, is the wellknown caterer," said Majorv Lushwell popping cream buns into paper bags. Oh, so you're John Lushwell's daughi' j wondered. The late tenants only stayed a few months, and lost every penny, I understand. I expect you had purred "mum." . "Yes, and blood for (he work. Catermg's in the blood. My sister runs a successful shop in Edinburgh." Oh, really?" says "mum." "There is so much in heredity, isn't there? That's very interesting. John Lushwell'-? daughtor I shall certainly tell all my friends." les, John Lushwell's daughter was doing a brisk little business. All and sundry patronized <he pretty little shop with the green blinds.

But, as she had said to "mum," the place needed managing. She herself supervised everything, and served personally in the shop.' That was the secret.

The place bad been Roiug six months, and her prediction as to Basil's course of action when he should discover her treachery bad not materialized.

Any normal person would have paid her a visit, and. at least, have told her off. Such a breach of confidence could hardly be taken lying down, and yet he had never been near her! Perhaps it was because she was a woman, and. decent men don't knock women about.

She had written to the address be had given her, and had no reply. She had made a special journey across London, only to discover on inquiry at his lodgings that ho had left the neighbourhood, and nothing had been heard of him since. Fears ass,ailed her that something had happened to him. Her conscience began to worry her, and she was getting dead fed up with the shop. Six months of successful confectionery had become monotonous.

Then she had a brain wave! She would \ put the place up for sale; perhaps that would draw, hinv. Then, again, his poor, last two hundred poundg would probably have shrunk beyond recognition by now. All the same, she \yould close the shop; she was sick of it. She was making arrangements to carry this resolution into effect when, one morning, Basil Sinclair walked in, leisurely, pale, and coughing, with more manly fragility about him than ever. There was no one in the shop except Marjory herself. She lifted her eyes from the task upon which she was engaged, and her gaze became rivetted on hi/i tired eyes. You are ill," she said softly. He laughed. I've been ill, but I'm better." He -sat down, and she brought him a cup of tea and some buns. He laughed again, that old short laugh. You still owe me for that tea, so I can take this with a free conscience. Do you remember saving I might bo in need of a free tea one day?" " Yes, oh, yes. Eat heaps and heaps of cream buns, they're special, and driuk cups and cups of tea she said. " You seem to be running this short ever so much better that I should nava done, ' he said, looking round admiringly. " Yes, eat away, Mr. Basil. Eat, and talk after." He' began to reproach her for buying the place over his head—betrayal of trust, and so on. The phrase made her wince. " Listen," she said, when he. had eaten enough. "My intentions were good. Listen. How can I put the case briefly ? " Do you know how much I paid for the place, before I even opened ? No, oi course, you don't. Well. I've tell you; five hundred pounds. Anything less and the place would have had to shut in a week." '"Five hundred pounds!'' " Yes, and that s cheap. I'm a busi« ness woman. I've got tea-houses in my blood. John Lushwell is my father. That's what it, cost me. It would have cost anyone else a good deal moro—you, for instance." " John Lushwell," he said, as if sur« prised. " Still, it was a breach, of confidence, A man has a perfect right to throw his money away if he wants to, and in tha way he wants to." She smiled maternally. " Well, perhaps I did wrong, but you seemed such a, boy, and so poorly, and knowing how you would certainly lose your money, I just did it," s " My idea was to get the thing going, and then hand it. over to you. Indeed, it's time you came along, for I'm dead fed up with it, and, in fact, would have chucked it long ago, but for the hope that you would one day turn up." There was a long silence. He looked up, and straightened his shoulders. " Excuse me, I am absolutely penniless, so the shop is quite out of the question." he said. "The success is yours, you are entitled to tho fruits of your success." "I know. But you have a perfectly legitimate right to a share in it up to your two hundred pounds, because I did you out of the place, and that share works out nicely. Its foolish to refuse what is already yours," she argued. He took her hand and kissed it. , "You know very well I would have lost every penny." • "Of course, I do, I've said so." He subjected her to a grand scrutiny for a few moments. " Look here, you must ha\e thought something of mo to go. and do such a thing oil my behalf.'' She lowered her head, significantly, " I'll do what you ask me on one com dition," he said, holding both her hands, "I'll force your hand. You wero unscrupulous because you cared for me. I will ba unscrupulous because I care for you. J would have been oh your track before, but I've been ill. " The condition that I make is this, that you consent to be my wife. You've made yourself responsible for my welfare over this shop. I want, yon to go further* Will you marry mo ?" " Oh, you goose! Do you think a girl like me would bother to run a place like this, in the circumstances, "for a man unless she loved him ?" " As to your father, curiously enough I was in a position some years ago to render him some slight service in the matter of an introduction." He was the practical one now. .."And now you are going to render his daughter some slight service," she laughed. " Six tuppenny buns, please, young man. ' she said, on behalf of a customer who had sailed into the shop. He gave th 6 customer six tuppennies plain, six cream buns, a whole walnut cake, and two doughnuts, and gave the wrong change out of a pound. He then hustled the flabbergasted person Off tho premises, and locked the door. " That's the way to run a tea-shop," lie said, grabbing Marjory, who wis all rosy with laughter, and was to be, in s moment, breathless with his attentions.