Love—and an Irishman
By JOYCE ATHERTON
Kay Linwood, sitting beside the window in the upstairs hall, was making heavy weather of her letter-writing. Half an hour ago her oldest brother, j Bill, had paused on his way downstairs 1 to say: "Still at it, Kay? Must be some letter I Give my best to old Con!" j Since then the complete silence in the house had reproached her with her 1 inability to add another word to those : already on the paper. The late spring sun, setting behind the house, threw long shadows across the lawn and glinted brilliantly on the ; chromium fittings of the car which presently drew up at the gate. A tall young man edged himself from under the wheel and, lifting his hand to his bare head in a gay salutation to Mrs. Lirnvood, came up the walk. Kay leaned from the window. " Ho, Dennis!" she called, "I'll be down in a minute!" Then deliberately she sat back in her chair and tried, as she had so often done before, to discover the secret of the attraction this young man exercised over her. He was one of the salesmen for the automobile firm in which Bill Linwood was accountant. For weeks Bill had talked about this new man, whose sales were mostly to women and who was bringing in an unprecedented amount of new business. " It must be his Irish tongue that does it, for he's no lady's man," Bill had averred. "He seems to have a fatal fascination for women—treats them as if they were duchesses, and do they love it! But I've never heard him talk about a girl nor seen him out with one."
Kay, whose three brothers had brought her up to be a good sport and who consequently appreciated the masculine viewpoint, had scoffed at Bill's portrait of the all-conquering Dennis. She had, or professed to have, a prejudice against all Irishmen, and challenged Bill to bring this marvel up to dinner some night for her to look over. It always entertained Kay to think about that first evening. She and Dennis had been so cagily aware of each other, each trying to fathom the depths in the other's personality and refusing to be impressed by their discoveries. She was accustomed to masculine admiration, for Mrs. Linwood kept open house for her sons' friends. So when Dennis Raymond began to be a frequent visitor at the Linwood home and had singled Kay out for his attentions she had merely been amused and not at all inclined to give him very serious consideration. But after a good deal of wary circling, like two suspicious animals meeting on a strange trail, Kay and Dennis had settled into a steady friendship, enlivened occasionally by -nappy wordy warfare. Lately, however, the girl had found herself thinking almost constantly of the young Irishman, longing to run hor fingers through his crisp black hair, with the wave which no amount of brushing could subdue. Her pulses beat faster at the sound of his deep, soft voice over the telephone, and his undeniable charm was seriously disturbing her peace of mind. Hence her present difficulty over the letter she was writing. She had met Conrad Tenway, a young mining engineer home for a vacation, the previous fall while on a visit to a married girl friend. From the moment of their meeting he had made no secret of his admiration for Kay. She had been inclined at first to treat him with the off-hand good-fellowship which she accorded to her brothers' chums. But Conrad's obvious devotion had impressed her in spite of herself. Her host-ess affected to believe that Conrad's occupation, with its forced abstinence from the amenities of life, had caused him to fall for the first girl he met on his return to civilisation. But as the lenways were much given to hospitality and Conrad had already been home three weeks when he met Kay, her explanation was not taken seriously. Although Kay was attracted to the quiet, rather shy young man, it was more his apparent need of her that warmed her heart toward him. He made no secret of the fact that she was the first girl he had ever cared for. " I need you, dear heart," he had whispered. "I love you so much. Can't you care for me a little?" " I do, Conrad," Kay answered, "more than a little. But I'm afraid not enough for marriage." " I'd be satisfied with the 'little, 1 Kay dear," lie said, humbly, "there's no one else, is there?" "No," she replied honestly. "Our house is over-run with boys, but I've never got sentimental over any of them!" Conrad had spent a few days with the Linwoods on his way back north, and the boys had given him their unqualified approval. Seeing him in her own environment, Kay had realised that here was a man whose love any girl might be proud to gain. If Con had asked her to marry him,_ then and there, and go back with him, it is likely that she would have_ accepted, but he contented himself with asking her to write to himKay closed her writing pad at last, and, running lightly downstairs, paused at the hall mirror to use her lipstick, and straighten the red belt and tie which brightened her grey knitted suit. Dennis was chatting to her mother on the shaded seat across the lawn. "Is that the birthday present you and I are going to deliver?" Kay asked, as she approached. " Some car, isn't it?" enthused Denis. "Silverline de luxe, advance model! If all the rich families in this territory gave coming-of-age gifts like that to their daughters, I'd soon have enough to retire on I" "Provided, that is," Kay teased him, "that they all fell for your fatal charm, and your line!"
" How now, fair damsel, dost thou mock at me?"
"Aye,, lord, hast never heard of Kate the Shrew?" Twinkling pt her mother, who enjoyed these spirited interchanges, Kay led Dennis toward the house. "I'll get „iy coat," she said, "these evenings have a nip to them." "Oh, we needn't start just yet." Dennis followed her into the dim, cool hall, and they sat on a deep chesterfield, placed to catch any vagrant breeze. After a few moments of brisk sparring, Dennis, as if unable to sit still, got up and started tho gramo-
phone. " Dance, Kay?" he asked, and they moved off, their steps perfectly matched. Kay always enjoyed dancing with Dennis.
They stopped beside tho machine as the record finished with a roll of drums, and, reversing the disc, Kay
set the music going again. " What's the name of that one?' Dennis asked idly. " ' Kiss Me Again.' " laughed Kav, looking up over her shoulder into the dark eyes with their extravagant
lashes, like those of an exotic movie star. To her astonishment, Dennis tightened the arm which he had kept round her, and drawing her gently to him, brushed his lips on hers.
That, slight caress, offered in a spirit of 7 pure mischief, released feelings in Kay hitherto unknown, or at least unacknowledged. Their lips clung together, Kay's arms reached out to Dennis, and for a space tho universe stood still.
buried her flushed face in Densis shoulder, and thus they stood, as
A SHORT STORY
I COPY RIGHT)
if entranced by the strains of Victor Herbert's waltz. As the music ceased, Kay raised her head, and pulled away. "Dennis," she breathed, "I—you—oh, we shouldn't have done that!" "Why not? Still thinking about the mining man, Kay? He's a good chap, 1 guess, but this is—us!" "We'd better be on our way, hadn't we?" Kay asked nervously, "it will soon be dark, and we've 20 miles to go!"
She slipped her arms into the coat which Dennis held for her, but when ho tried to embrace her. she twisted away. "Good-bye, mum," she called. "Don't sit up for me, we'll be back early!" The car was a beautiful semi-sports model, and Dennis made sure that the girl was 'quite comfortable before he slid behind the wheel. Kay could understand why women customers 'iked to have him demonstrate for thein. The early evening traffic occupied the whole of Dennis' attention for the first few miles, and Kay was glad of the interval to collect her thoughts. Tonight she must come to some definite decision with regard to Conrad. She could not allow Dennis to continue making love to her, while she still had an understanding with another man. " I believe you're asleep," Dennis challenged after a long silence. "No, just thinking," the girl re-
plied. "Don't think, it's waste of time," Dennis admonished her, taking his hand off the wheel, and giving Kay's fingers a gentle pressure. The sky darkened, and lights came out in the widely spaced houses along the road. The car purred sweetly beneath them, the radio played soft dance music from far away ballrooms, and Kay unconsciously leaned toward Dennis, the soothing motion and the loveliness of the evening insidiously combining to lay a romantic spell on her mind. Then somehow the rhythm of the moment was broken. Kay straightened in her seat, listaning intently. "Dennis," she said at last. "1 believe you have a flat tyre!" "Impossible," answered that confident young man, "Silverline de luxe models don't have flat tyres!" "Stop the car and look, anyway," urged Kay. "Oh, well, if you insist, but there is a much better parking place further on."
"Don't be silly, Dennis!" "By Saint Pat, you're right!" he exclaimed, leaning out of the window, us a passing car flooded them with . light. "Her rear hind wheel is as flat sis a radio joke!" "Well, what are you going to do aibout it?" inquired Kay. "Sitting here won't fix it." "Guess I'll go back to that last filling station, and have them send someone out to change the wheel." " Dennis Raymond," expostulated Kay, "you'll do no such thing! Get out and change it yourself." "Me? Why, I never changed a wheel or a tyre in my life, and I have no intention of doing it now!" "And you call yourself an automobile salesman!" was Kay's disgusted rejoinder. "Yes, a salesman—l'm no mechanic." "Well, here's where you get your first lesson," said Kay firmly. "Get out. I suppose this boudoir on wheels has a tool kit somewhere?" "Oh, yes, but really, Kay, there's no need for you to do this. You'll get your dress and your hands dirty." "Pleaso yourself I" said Kav, -rc-ho by now had taken the tool kit out in the road and the spot-light turned on lier work. "I may not be a super-salesman, but I do know how to change a wheel, even on a Silverline de luxe!" "All right, I surrender. What do I do first?" Under Kay's supervision the spare wheel was soon put on. " I can't understand it," Dennis said. "In all the time I've been demonstrating Silverlines, I've never had a flat tyre." "That's because you always have a new car," Kay told him. "There probably isn't anything wrong with this one, either. I'll bet you ten cents those smart lads in the service shop fixed the valve with a slow leak, just to show you up. Some of them are far from pleased that you have the highest sales quota, especially when you know nothing at all about the workings of a car, in spite of your glib talk." During the few miles that remained of the distance to be covered, a strained silence was maintained in the beautifully-appointed car. She had always been used to competent men —her father and brothers were able to cope with most emergencies. The idea that any man could bo so helpless was an utterly novel one to Kay. She could see now, what had never occurred to her before, that Dennis relied upon his charming manners to get him out of any difficulty which might arise. They drove slowly along a narrow, tree-shaded lane, and turned into a paved court. A man in uniform, who had evidently been watching for them, came out of an ornate structure which Kay surmised was the garage. " That the Silverline?" ho asked,
and without waiting for an answer, rolled up a section of the front of the building. "Drive it in here, will you?
The boss asked me to call him as soon as you arrived." Through the glass, partition which shut off one end of the enclosure, Ka.y could see him at the telephone. He motioned them to follow him, as they stepped out of the car. Dennis handed over the keys, and the two men talked a minute or two about the car, before a short, elderly man. opened the door. " Good-evening, Mr. .Raymond," he said. "Mrs. Stanton and I are very grateful to you for bringing the Silverline out."
Then turning to the chauffeur, "Farrell, get the runabout out for Mr. I'aymo nd to drive back to the city." '"'Oh, don't trouble," Dennis said,
"we can go bacjc in the bus." "No trouble at all," the other declared. "One of the men can get it tomorrow."
"I'd rather go in the bus," Kay put in, seeing Dennis hesitate. She felt that she could not endure another drive alone with Dennis, at tho present juncture.
Jh.'. Stanton tried to insist, and Dennis apparently wanted to take tho car, but Kay won her point.
Tho bus route was a few hundred
yards away, and as they walked down the road, Dennis could not conceal his annoyance.
"1 hate busses!" ho snapped. "Why couldn't you be sensible and let us take the car?"
"I'd rather ride in the bus to-night," Kay replied coldly. "Why didn't you tell the chauffeur to check over tho tyres? Suppose the girl gets stuck somewhere without a spare?" "That's his business," contended Dennis. "Think I'd givo him a chance to imagine there was anything wrong with the car?"
"You might have managed to give him a hint. Don't you ever think of nnvono but vourself?"
Kay was dreading the return ride, but when he found that they were almost the only passengers in tho bus, Dennis settled himself deliberately to lay siege to her affections.
There was a silence for a minute or two as the bus stopped to let out the last remaining passenger. Dennis leaned a little closer to Kay. "Not still mad at me, are you?" Kay knew she was weakening. After aIJ, charm and good humour had their place in life. Not everyone could live up to the "Life is real, life is earnest" standard. The soft humming at her side resolved itself into "Kiss Me Again," and Kay's mind swung back to that glowing moment beside the gramophone. "Kay, darling," Dennis murmured, "we get along so well together. We always have such fun.
"Kay, dear, won't you write to that miner, and tell him you're going to marry me?" The slighting term flicked the maternal part of Kay's feeling for Conrad, and showed her, as perhaps nothing else could have done, the vital difference in her regard for these two men, each of whom loved her in his own way. And at once her mind, was made up. Resolutely she straightened in her seat. "I'm sorry, Dennis. I'm afnaid I've let you get the wrong idea me! I couldn't possibly find happiness with a man who was helpless in an emergency. I know it seems silly to make an issue of such a small thing, but I really am one of those practically-minded people you despise. "Did you ever put up a shelf?" " Shelf? Why—what do you meanP" Dennis demanded. "Of course you didn't!" Kay acknowledged. "I've heard father say that the first thing mother asked him to do when they were settled after their honeymoon, was to put up a shelf, and he's been doing it ever since. Of course that's just his fun, but there's a good deal of truth in it!" Dennis attempted to laugh it off, but without success. Ho became silent at last, realising that he had met defeat, and that Kay was in dead earnest. He refused her invitation to step into the house for a cool drink, after their dusty ride, his farewell brief and characteristic:
"Good-bye, Kay, it's been nice knowing you!" She stood for a moment watching him swing down the street, a dull pain at her heart for the passing of something incomparably sweet and evanescent, then walked slowly toward the house. Slipping into pyjamas and a warm robe, she took out her unfinished letter, and writing rapidly, her doubts now at rest, completed a long, affectionate missive, which ended with the cryptic question: "How are you on putting up shelves?"
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19370203.2.10
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22643, 3 February 1937, Page 6
Word Count
2,799Love—and an Irishman New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22643, 3 February 1937, Page 6
Using This Item
NZME is the copyright owner for the New Zealand Herald. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons New Zealand BY-NC-SA licence . This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of NZME. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.
Acknowledgements
This newspaper was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries and NZME.