LADY BETTY’S CHOICE

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1748, 6 September 1905, Page 7

LADY BETTY’S CHOICE

THE SUPER-CESSION OF THE DUKE OF VANBERBY. (By Hope Merrick.) “I Can’t think,” said her deadly-in-earnest, romantic friend; I can’t think how you can sit there calmly munching marrons glaces just as if nothing had happened, nothing at all.” “Don’t eat any more,” the girl implored; “you’ll be sick. Besides, I want you to talk to me, to tell me all about it; how it happened, and what it makes you feel like. Oh, Betty, if I were in your place, I shouldn’t be able to eat at all. I shouldn’t bo able to sleep. Don't you feel it’s a dreadful waste of time to sleep when you might be saying over and over again, ‘I love him, I love him, I love him’ ?” “Who said I did?” “But tell me all,” pleaded Joanna, sitting, tensely expectant, on her heels; “every little bit, won’t you? I have always yearned to know what engaged people say, and think, and feel.” “Well, it’s something like this,” said the old Duke of Vanberley’s betrothed. “You go to bed perfectly happy one night with a plait down your back, and the next morning your mother conies in and says, "Betty, get up and put on your simplest and shortest frock, and be m the morning-room by twelve, tenderly arranging flowers in the vases. Bast night I had a little chat with the dear duke.”

Joanna began to breathe heavily. ‘‘At twelve o’clock,” Lady Betty continued, getting interested herself, “he comes in just as yon are sucking a thorm scratched finger and, he hastens forward as fast as his old legs will carry him, and he says, f My dear child, allow me/ And yon allow him. After that you are engaged/’ “Without any—'you know?” Joanna gasped shyly. “I forget.” “O'h, Betty, you couldn’t forget such a thing as that.” ‘ , , , “I shut my eyes and thought about something else.” . .• “And when did you say it was to be, darling ?” she asked tenderly. “ ‘ln the spring, gentle Annie/ ” “You must be counting the days.” “I am. His rent roll’s thirty thousand a year.” Joanna burst into tears. “Never mind, old girl,” said Lady Betty, patting her vigorously. “It’s a bit sickening for you. But you would make me talk about it, you know.” “Oh, it isn’t that,” Joanna sobbed. “But I don’t know how to explain my—my innermost feelings.” “Well, don’t try if you’d rather not. The doctors say I’m not to be depressed. . . . And by the way,” Lady Betty remarked in smaller voice, while the other stifled her emotion; “if you should happen to run agamst Jim Cochrane—l don’t mean the little red-haired Cochrane who’s got all the cash, I mean his six-foot cousin with the rather nice eyes, who’s got all the debts and nothing to speak of to pay ’em——” “I know. He always reminds me ot St. George and the Dragon.” “He’s nothing like either. But if you happen to run against him you might mention, among other things, that 1 m fixed up and—and very happy in fact, you miglit say desperately happy.” “Might I?” “What do you mean oy that? Presently a feeble whisper reached the girl crouching over the fire. “Betty, there’s someone standing on the pavement opposite. . . It’s a man. . .

He’s a six-footer. . . And his eyes are rather nice—only they’re glaring, glaring horribly at me; no, through me. Don’t be angry with me, Betty, but can’t you feel them burning into your back?”. ""No, I can’t—don’t snivel, Joanna—l can’t stand it." “Very well. Betty. But won’t you come and give him one little smile?” “No!” "‘But why ?” "‘Because —he’d rush across, stupid, and. —you know Jim’s a man who always gets his own way.” I ""If you could only see his face.’’ "‘You always were a sentimental ass. ■ Pull down the blind, please.” "‘Oh, Betty, it would hurt his feelings so.” “Pull it down, I say. I can’t stand ic any longer, being stared at through and through me.” I "‘Oh, Betty, wait a minute. He’s just seen me. And I’m bowing.” ""Frown, Joanna!” “Oh, Betty dear—*—•” ""Frown, I tell you—hard.” "".... I’ve done it. But he’s smiling back.’’ i “You couldn’t bave frowned properly. ’ Pull down that blind, Joanna—quick,” i ""Yes, Betty, yes—l’m putting up my hand to it Oh, Betty, he must have misunderstood. He’s tearing across the road—now he’s on the step. He must have thought I was beckoning him.” “Joanna! You did it on purpose,. Joanna.” I Joanna was not quick at reading tones„ ! and she daren’t look behind her. ""Forgive me, Betty, dearest, darling Betty,” she whimpered "T couldn’t help myself. He looked so much, nicer than the Duke.” "‘Oh, he is! He is !” And then she fumed and blinked at the smiling, trembling Bady Betty. The door opened. The much nicer man came in. And Joanna crept out* unnoticed. . . . They forgot to thank her before the , wedding. And afterwards she supposed that they forgot again.