THE AUDACITY OF ANNETTE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 19169, 7 November 1925, Page 16 (Supplement)

THE AUDACITY OF ANNETTE.

SHORT STOEY.

BY B. D. C. GBAHAM.

At about half-past nine o'clock of_ an excellent summer's morning, a certain young motor-cyclist was applying to his alleged blithering stupidity many of The expletives which.his sojourn in the Army had made familiar to him. He had just run out of petrol—and is anything more annoying than that ? When lie had a little relieved his mind by two brief spasms of deplorable language, he put the engine in !UU began to push the machine. The road ■was new to him; but his map showed a village, not more than a couple of miles off and thitherward he made his way. As he plodded along his ill-temper evaporated under the beauty of the moniiuu. A fine day in the country had always meant more to Alan By worth a rather romantic, beauty-loving young man—than it does perhaps to most people. The prospect on which he. stopped to look so pleased him that he almost forgot his plight. The road dipped presently, and at the foot of the slope was presented a glimpse of red roofs. Alan got into the saddle and drifted silently downhill. Ihe gradient was enough to carry him to the further end of the single long street along which the village was disposed; he looked very carefully as he went for any sign which should announce the proximity of a vendor of motor, spirit. He looked in vain.

the outlook was now distinctly sombre; yet Alan refused to despond. 'j his village which seemed to mock his hopes would, ho thought, satisfy them in the end. He decided, when his momentum should be exhausted, to turn back* and make door-to-door inquiries—for paraffin, if nothing better could be had. However, it chanced that the machine came to a standstill just opposite some open gates adjoining a large, house. Beyond those gates was a building which could be nothing else than a garage. Now inside thatjjarage —! The thought had scarcely jumped to his mind when a girl came into view, attended by a confused noise and two small, fat puppies. She was rebuking one of them, which had seized her shoelace, with an air o/ singular determination. "Let go, Nathaniel!" she said. "You bad little dog!" She laughed also, as though Nathaniel's perversity amused her; and, becoming aware of Alan, met his with the smile still on her lips. Now we may take it that it is impossible to depict feminine beauty in words. Almost anything else, if you are so gifted, you may describo faithfully ' and vividly—from an Alpine sunset to the furniture of a dentist's surgery—but this stands. excepted. So it is enough to say that Miss Annette Weston was very pretty and owned a sweet voice; and Alan thought so too. "Er—l beg your pardon," remarked Alan, diffidently. "Er—the fact is, I've run out of petrol for my bike, and there doesn't seem to be a place in the village where thev sell it. I wondered—l mean, do you know where I might be able to get some?" "There's just our one general shop," said Annette,; pleasantly, "and they sell most things there—drop it, Jessica! —but not petrol, as far as I know. You'd have to go four miles or so to find a motor works."

"Four miles? Help!" "Have you no petrol at all ? Must you push £.ll the way ?" '•'.Yes. I'm afraid so —unless the road goes downhill, of course." "Well, if it's like that—will you be quiet, Nathaniel?—l think 1 could let you have a gallon or so. That'll help, won't it? There ought to be several tins in the garage here.' "1 say, this is awfully nice of you—" Alan was beginning. "1 don't think so at all," she declared. "I should be a pig, shouldn't I, to let you walk miles just because I wouldn't help you?" With that she opened the garage door, revealing a big car flanked by a number of cans. Aian brought his machine into the yard and proceeded to till the tank at Annette's invitation. During this operation she was watching him with a particular intentness which she masked with the skill of her sex.

In returning the tin to the garage he accidentally stepped on Jessica's t-oe, who thereupon emitted an astonishing volume of sound. /.lan nimbly picked her up and soothed her anguish, in the manner 'of one who has a real sympathy with canine troubles.

"I'm so very sorry," he apologised. "I always was clumsv."

"Oh, that's all right," Annette assured him. "I walk on them myself a dozen times a day. Is that a name on your tank?" she demanded.

"Well, it was once; but there's very little left now. This is an old machine, you know, and at one time it used to be the fashion to give them names. 1 never troubled to wash it off. You can't read it, can vou ?"

"R-o-s-i." Annette traced with her small finger. "It isn't Rosie, because there are some more letters. Rosi —Rosi —can it be Rosinante?"

Alan nodded. "That's a good guess, because the 'a' and the 'n' are

cjuite gone." "Rosinante," mused Annette. "That was the name of Don Quixote's horse, wasn't it? He used to go about tilling at windmills and helping damsels in distress. Is that what you do ?" "Oh—l—there seems to be no opportunity for that sort of thing nowadays," said Alan, blushing slightly. "I'm afraid the bike hasn't had a chance to live up to her name."

There followed a silence: Tie reluctantly made preparations for departure. Dared he ask if he might see her again ? He didn't know- He had reached the gate when her voice arrested him. It. is only fair to record {"hat it held something of diffidence.

"Supposing—supposing I said T were in distress, would you and 'Rosinanle* help me?"

"Would we? Try us: I Alan turned with a radiant face. "Can we really do something for vou ?"

"Hut I expect you're bound for somewhere? And you must be late as it is." " No, I'm only out for a ramble. It was too fine a day to stop indoors. Truly, it would please me better than anything I can think of to be able to help you. Is it a lift you'd like, or just a message you want taken V' "I was only half-serious." she protested, hut not very convincingly. " Don't disappoint me now," he pleaded. " Where am I to go ?" Annette gazed at Nathaniel as though fbo had never seen him before. "Oh. it's difficult to explain—-at least. I'd rather not—hut T wanted to meet someone to<l,l v ot Pdi'::,t(tr>---'nd —" "Nothin" easier." Alan declared, cheerfnllv. "Tt's about thirty miles, awav, isn't it , T ran fret you there in an hour and a-half. easily." "And vou're sure von wouldn't mind doing th-it —and bringing me back Again ?" "Positive. I shnP like it tremendously. You'll want a cushion for the carrier, anr) some straos." She smiled ndornblv and vanished, leaving him with the conviction that he was probably dreaming: so strong a conviction that, experimentally, he bit his tongue. F" nuite n short time she reappeared. dressed f"* - the road, sensibly vet pict" ra squeiy. The cushion was attached. the puppies quelled, and the rntes HoenrJ/after them. Nobody came from the horse to v-ntrh, or comment on. or forbid the expedition.

"Yon know the first principles of pillion-riding, ~1 expect ?" Alan suggested. "Keen vonr skirt well out of the wheel, and hold on tight'y to me. Your arm goes round mv waist—so "

f Y»s," said Annette, meeklv; and they

You were in the army, weren't vou ?" Annette presently! Xes,. it gave .me two pips and a small, of shrapnel, and demobilised me Ruout three months ago."

(COPYRIGHT.)

" I was wondering if you : d ever met an officer in the Royal Rutlands that 1 used to know." "Why, that was my regiment !" cried Alan. " Very likely i did What was his name?" " Oh—Smitlison. He was in the—in the 19th Battalion." " The 19th '' No, no, we never saw anything of them." It seemed to him that afle.r this brief conversation her arm encircled him in a more friendly and confident manner than before. Had she taken him for a conscientious objector ? ■ They were more than half-way to Blex ton when " Rosinante," who tnafc morning was playing understudy to "Destiny," signified that her back tyre would hold air no longer. Alan looked backwards and downwards, and realised what was wrong. "Oh, a puncture!" exclaimed Annette, dismounting as lightly as a feather. " I'm sorry this has happened," Alan declared. " You know it's the sort of thing nobody can help--but it 11 make us later than in arriving at Blexton. Will that matter much ?" " Oh, no, not at all," Annette assured him. A touch of pink appeared in her cheeks and the, faintest trace of embarrassment in her t.oiee. " He—the person I want to meet v/on't expect me till about half-past two." I Alan, you may'* bo sure, did not fail to notice the pronoun's gender. An authentic pang of jealou; v alfiicted him and passed. " After all,"' cried common sense, almost submerged by current events, but obtaining a moment* .ry hearing, "what has it to do. with whom she meets, anyhow ?" ; t time goes on with an\astonish:ng speed when you are wrestling' with roadside troubles on a hot day. A;.\n repacked the tool-bag, thanked goodness that was finished, looked at his and found that it was half-past twelve. vA brilliant idea came to him. \ " We've still about twelve mifes to go. As you don't want to arrive till th's afternoon, what do, you say to stopping for lunch at the first place that takes our fancy 1" "Yes, I should like to." So they found a little inn ihat called itself a hotel, and were shown into a clean, cool room looking on to a small lawn backed by fruit-trees.

"Oh, this is excellent," declared Alan in great content. " But 1 wish —" and he stopped, hoping, perhaps, that Annette would ask him to complete the sentence. " You wish what ?'

" I suppose I oughtn't to go on. You might be offended. Ought I?" " Well, I'm not so very easily offended. But don't risk it if you think there's a chance."

" I fear there is," said Alan, and "pushed a sigh," as they say in France. During the meal they talked travel and hooks, and even a little philosophy, and found an increasing pleasure in each other's company. Alan did his best to forget the existence of the unspeakable creature at Blexton —who was, after all, the cause of his present tempered felicity. When " neat-handed Phyllis" had set coffee before them Annette returned to her unanswered question. " I wonder what it was you were going to wish when we came in?"

" I'll tell you !" Alan cried, made reckless by a glass of Wiltshire, ;ile. " 1 was going to wish, and I do wish, and I have been wishing—that we were on our honeymoon, you and I. A little car outside," and weeks of happiness waiting. We'd go—oh, where wouldn't we go ? We'd stay at little places like this, and come down to breakfast on fresh, swe-et mornings with the sun shining in. through the windovvs. We'd feel the wind in our faces, and watch sunsets, and walk slowly under the stars. Every moment would be wonderful, because we should be together. Oh, dear, what have I said ? I never meant to say so much. I'll apologise as humbly as you like." " This —this rather takes the breath away," Annette declared, with quite a deep blush. "Do you make a habit of talking like this to*every girl you meet, after a three hours' acquaintance ? Something you can't possibly mean : No, don't say anything more. -We'll go on to Blexton new. Yes, I am rather angry. Do vou wonder ?"

" I was afraid you would be. But please believe that I've never said or wanted to say anything of this sort before.'' He was buoyed by a belief that Annette wasn't really as incensed as she seemed to be. Still, they completed the journey to Blexton in silence, S£,ye for her request that he should stop in the square. " Wili you mind waiting for me here?", she said. " I expect I shan't be long."

He had reconciled himself to the piospect of waiting an hour or two; yet ten minutes had scarcely passed when she reappeared in the distance, in com par.y with a tall figure) in khaki. Is this the avenger ? thought Alan, and surreptitiously! felt his biceps. But as they drew nearer, j he was suddenly struck by something un- | mistakably familiar in the stranger's j appearance and gait. And the latter i cheerfully hailed him with, " Hulio, By- j worth old thing. Why, this is splendid!" ; he said, when Alan had finished preeling ! him cordially. " Yes, they wanted to de- ! mob me, bat I wouldn't let them. I've i signed on for another year. By the way, ■ Annette here tells me she's been pulling your leg, and you didn't know she was ! mv sister. Rather sporting of you to . bring her ever. I came here this morn- i ing on a court-martial job. A sergeant, ; who's been —" j "Your sister!" cried Alan. But wily J c'lidn't you say so ?" he demanded of Annette. "Did you recognise me?" "I was pretty sure," she confessed, with j eyes downcs.st. "And I asked you about , the Royal Rutlands, because I remembered Dick saying that you had got your commission in that regiment. "You've met her before," Dick put in. "Don't you remember coming hortia with me one week-end in the spring 'ls? —only we lived in London then. Annetle was I a smallish flapper, who said very little and was shy. They tell me she's growing ; out of that now. A silly habit, isn t it, j Annette ?"

"That explains why I felt we'd met before, when I first saw you surrounded by puppies. Only it didn't seem possible, because —well, because— — Alan coughed, and let the remainder of tho sentence go unsaid.

"Let's all repair to yon hostelry," Dick suggested. "We'll talk over old times, I ancf have some tea, and then I must totj ter hack to rejoin the troops. T shall ! love to hear of your doughty deeds, and I so on." | Some hours later, after seeing Dick off 1 at the station, Alan and Annette made I a very successful return journey. An evening of perfect tranquillity enfolded them, and for Alan their progress was the quintessence of happiness, delivered I from doubts obscurities. "The world's mine oyster," said he, or S words tc that effect. I "I've enjoyed it tremendously," An- ! nette stated as she dismounted at the journey's end. "Thank you very, very much." And Rosinante too." "1" shall see you again—often. You'll let me call ? Of course, I shall come whether you say so or not. I shrill lay siege to you. or kidnap the puppies and hold them to ransom."

"Well, what can I answer, then? I hope, you will —T mean. I hope you'll call, and not do ;,nvthing desperate:" '

"And am I forgiven for what 1 said after lunch ?"

"You see." she explained, rapidly, "1 knew you didn't know who I was, and it seemed so very sudden—as if you were accustomed to say it. That made me cross. Of course, in any ■ case, you oughtn't to have spoken like that." "Still," said Alan, very jubilantly, "having introduced the subject, I'm going to re-open it next time I see you—say tomorrow morring. And you remember, I mentioned a little car? Well, as it happens, I've ordered a small two-seater, and T expect it to be delivered some time this autumn."