PATRICIA'S DECEIVER

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23181, 29 October 1938, Page 19 (Supplement)

PATRICIA'S DECEIVER

MY favourite niece, Patricia, sat on the edge of the" bath-ing-pool at Sealands and pensively dabbled her toes in the water. But every now and then she peeped toward tlie diving-board. "Men are so deceitful," she pouted, presently. "Are theyl" I inquired, with kindly tolerance, being myself of the aspersed sex. "You simply can't believe them," paid Patricia, loftily.

"Do you mean all men, or just seabide men?" "All men, when they're at the seatide," asserted Patricia, sweepingly. Again she glanced from beneath her long lashes at the diving-board. "There he is again," she remarked, crinkling her nose very scornfully. A distinctly good-looking young man was about to dive. "1 hope he comes a ghastly smack, said Patricia, vindictively. But he didn't. There was no fault whatever to find with his plunge. Patricia's frown testified as much.

Tlio young man came swimming toward us. Ho looked at Patricia humbly, appcalinglv. .She turned her shapely, bronzed little back to him. "I'll never forgive him," said Patricia. "Never!" "Well, that seems to dispose of him," I said. "Now, what about getting dressed, and having a game or two of tennis before lunch?" "You never remember that I don't .really care for tennis, uncle," complained Patricia, patiently. "Golf, yes. Hockey and lacrosse, yes and yes again, But J'm just sheer rabbit at tennis, and I have the sense to realise it, and not make myself just a Nuisance on the courts." Wild Slams That was true enough. Patricia has no gift for tennis. Either she wildly .slams the ball into the next county, or she sort of gives it a push with her racquet into the net. Some girls are like that. No tennis-complex, 1 suppose. "And ever since I sprained my wrist last summer, falling down the stairs, I'm worso at tennis than over," said Patricia, frankly. So wo went off to have ices instead, and while wo were having them, at a table on the waterfront, that young man passed us. He looked very presentable in his flannels, but my niece hardly gave them a glance. A little hurriedly, she had begun to call my attention to a ship far out at sea. She wanted to know what sort of ship it was, and her desire for this knowledge seemed very urge/it. "It's a schooner. I informed her. "I hope he's thoroughly ashamed of himself," said Patricia, frowning at the young man's back.

By F. • Morton Howard

"Pleasant-looking young fellow," I commented. "Would you take him for a rising film-star?" she asked. "J might," 1 conceded, cautiously. "Is he?" , , "No," she replied, bitterly, "and never was. He was last year, though,' she added, with great disdain. "His film career —" .1 began. "Ho never had. u film career," interrupted Patricia. stormilv. "Thnt's what ho told me at Brightsands, last year." "Just what did he tell you at Brightsands last year?" I asked, because you always have to go to fundamentals when Patricia explains things. "His name is Featherston —though I shouldn't bo a bit surprised if it isn't, but that's what he told me," said Patricia. looking very lucid. "We —we got to know each other at Brightsands last summer. Wo danced together a goodish bit, and wont out boating, and—well, you know, rtll the usual seaside things." "You got to bo good friends?" Make-believe Patricia nodded. "Of course, I didn't know how deceitful he was. He told me ho was home on holiday from Hollywood, where lie was being coached to be a star. ,1 believed him. I must say he kept it up awfully well, but I do think ho might liavo had the honesty to tell nie the truth when lie got to know me better." "Oh. a certain amount of niakc-be-lievo is only natural when one's at the seaside," I urged, easily. "Yes, and of course he did leave rather unexpectedly," admitted Patricia. "An uncle turned up from Australia. or somewhere, and they wired to him to-come home a day earlier." For a few moments I thought, that she was going to relent, but ner face hardened again. "All the same, he oughtn't to have deceived mo," she said. "You ought

to have seen how hot nnd bothered ho {jot when ho enmo across me here at Sealands. 1 passed him on the lieach. Ho was with a girl I happen to know, nnd wo stopped to chat. She started to introduce ns to each other, and explained that lie was in the same office in the.- city as she was 'Not Hollywood?' I said. She didn't get that, lint, he did. Ho went a rich plum colour, and stayed so. She _ rather seemed to think that I'd gone crackers, hut 1 didn't explain. I need only add that lie's been working in that same olfico tor the last five years, and you've got the wholo story." "Was Rather Nice" Patricia, finished her ice, sat thoughtful awhile, and sighed. "I believo you'ro sorry," 1 commented. "He was rather nice," said Patricia, .softly. "And they were rather a stuffy crowd at our guest-house, and I didn't know anybody else. Yes. if lie liked to apologise, very, very humbly, 1 don't know but what —" That was enough for nie. I rose and went after the young man, nnd put the position to him. "1 know it was all wrong of me," he confessed, abjectly. "I ought never to liavo started the yarn, but somehow 1 found it more and more difficult to face owning up. nnd —" 1 took him by tho arm and led him back to Patricia. "It was all a mistake," I gaily assured her. "and he's never going to do it again." "I'm awfully sorry," he said, nbjoetlv. "So I should hope," said Patricia. "You had no real excuse whatever to be so deceitful. However —" She smiled very graciously, and put out her hand to him. Ho grasped it with enthusiasm. "I hope your wrist is quite right again now?" ho inquired, releasing her palm. &

Humorous Short

Illustrated by Minliinriick "Oh, yes, as well as ever it was," she said, lightly. "That's line!'' he soul, "lough 011 you, being crocked last vear, but 1 knew by tTie papers that the wrist was getting better, ol course. Naturally, alter I'd met you, 1 used to watch out lor your name." "I'm Booked" "Yes." said Patricia, a trifle faintly. "Perhaps," he suggested, diffidently, "we might have some tennis this afternoon?" "I—l'm booked," said Patricia. "S—some other time." And she insisted it was high time wo wero getting back to lunch, though there was still half an hour to go. Wo left the young man somewhat abruptly. . "I—l'd quite forgotten," said Patricia. "I couldn't use my wrist at Brightsands last year, of course. It was still bandaged, so it seemed quite safe. There happens to be quite a famous tennis star of the same nar.ie as myself, you see. and I told him— Gosh, what am I to do about it;-''' "Deceitful creatures, men!" I chuckled.