AN UNREQUITED LOVE

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1685, 15 June 1904, Page 13

AN UNREQUITED LOVE

The June sunlight filtered through the Venetian Iblinds and cast flickering shadows on Miss Virginia Lushington’s usually sallow cheeks, flushed now with excitement as she wrote sheet after sheet, her pen stumbling over the words in her haste to tell the tale. iShe was writing to her sister. As a rule they had little in common, for Lucie was a poor sort o? creature, with no spirit of her own, but in the great crises of life any confidante is better than none, and Miss Virginia felt that she was approaching a great crisis in hers. “So you npist not be surprised, my dear Lucie, if you hear before long of a great change in my life. lam thankful to say I feel quite a different creature, thanks to the skill of Dr Blandley, of whose great kindness and really particular attentions I have told you before. He ” here the pen. a common, boarding-house sort of article, snapped short with an agonised shriek, letting an extinguishing blot fall on the interesting pronoun. Miss Virginia uttered an exclamation of annoyance, carefully mopped up the offending ink, and then, her train of thought interrupted, leaned back in her chair with a sigh, not of sorrow, but of overwrought feeling.

Outside in the gardens the band was playing, groups of smartly gowned women hovering about, their gay parasols contrasting with the white caps of nurses in charge of patients; for the Buxton season was beginning with its mingling of pleasure-seeking visitors and invalids in search of health. But a few weeks ago Miss Virginia would have found it hard to decide in which category to olass herself. There was no doubt in her mind nows '

“Dear fellow,” she murmured, smoothing her glace gown with meditative fingers. “Dear fellow; what tenderness what comprehension! He divined my case at once. It was not so much the poor material body which suffered —though indeed my headaches were excruciating—no; it was my soul which wandered lonely through the wilderness of this world! How he admires my poems! His own verses are a little crude, but one cannot ' expect les belles letters from a man of science; enough that he understands and appreciates them and—me.” She glanced at the little timepiece. Half-past four; his usual hour of calling. “Good gracious,” she exclaimed with sudden alarm. “I forgot my taibloids after lunch. And I had two helpings of lobster casa/olle and charlotte russe.' I shall be tormented! How could I be so forgetful? It was writing to poor Lucie; how surprised she will be, and three years younger than I. But what could she expect, shutting herself up in that pokey country house.” She hunted absent-mindedly for her tabloids, taking three in succession before she recalled herself. “Dear me, I feel quite unnerved! It will be to-day I feel sure. Yesterday when he was here he said he wished to know how to frame a very delicate question. What could he mean by that? If only the tiresome maid had not entered just then to clear away the tea I feel sure he would, have spoken. Or perhaps he will write ? Yes, on second thought, I think I would prefer hi§ writing. It would be so embarrassing were any one to interrupt just as he was proposing. In a boarding house one can never be sure, though I have given directions to Maria never to allow me to be disturbed when Dr Blandley is here.” Five o’clock chimed from the frivolous little timepiece—s o’clock. Surely there was some mistake—no professional engagement would withhold him at such a time! She walked restlessly to the window, drew up the blind, then let it fall again. “So trying for the complexion,” she munnurfw* with the faintest sigh.

"Miss Addison,* ’ announce the maid, flinging open the door. Mi&s Virginia turned, with amount of self-posses-sion whioh, under the circumstances,

was little short of heroic. "How kind of you to call,” she said. ”1 thought all the world was in the Gardens this afternoon.”

"Yes. I have been strolling tker© myself,” said the visitor. “One learns more news there in half an hour than in a week in any other place.” > "And what is the special news this afternoon ?” asked Miss Virginia, try« ing to assume a civil interest. Miss Addison laughed. "A little (bird has been whispering that there is a great blow in store for some of Dr Blandley’s patients in this change he is contemplating, but, of course, dear Miss Vir« ginia, this is no news to you.” Miss Virginia coloured and cast dowse her eyes.

"Well,” rattled on the visitor, "one’s loss is another’s gain, though I fear some will find that hard to accept! But I always did say that it was their own fault. Just look.at Miss De Travers, every on* Knows that her illness was all imagination. I think she is quite rightly served, though it will be a dear lesson to her.” “I never could bear Miss De Travers,” murmured Miss Virginia feeling slightly confused by this flood of talk. "I should think not! It was not to be expected. And is it true that it is to be Bath? They say the 18th.” "I —we —that is—l am not sure,” stammered Miss Virginia. "Oh. I am sure I am right! Well, one watering place is much like another, and it will Ibe a change of scene for him, but hardly of society. Well,” rising. “I must say good-bye. No, no tea for me, please. I bave lost my appetite wondering what sort of p. p. c. cards Dr Blandley will send in. I never was a very devoted adherent of his. you know, so I hope to be let down lightly.” Miss Virginia heaved a sigh of relief as her visitor departed. "I think that last remark was in deciaely bad taste,” she murmured. "But I suppose one must make allowances, though I do think I would not wear, my heart on my sleeve, if I were she. It makes a woman look so very foolish. But how people d'o talk, to be sure! And Bath, too! It would be a charming place for a honeymoon, and •: dear Wilfred has frequently mentioned the city of late.

Evidently: he must have said somthing to a friend.' Well, well, it is certainly V droll, his taking my consent for granted like this—but there news travels so fast, and he doubtless intended to come himself.”' “A letter for you, mum!” announced Maria, entering the drawing room. Miss Virginia clutched "feverishly at it. “’Tis his—’tis his! Ah. then, he has written,” she murmured, oblivious of Marla's curious glances. She tore it open, glanced at the contents, and then a sickening hue, which had its origin neither in lqhster casarolle nor in charlotte russe, overspread her face. “What can he mean P Leaving Buxton for an appointment in' Bath! Impossible! Oh, villian —villian.” A paper fell from her trembling fingers. It was a professional account for 20 guineas. .