SHORT TALE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2255, 20 May 1897, Page 42

SHORT TALE.

I A FRIVOLOUS LITTLE WOMAN. " She is an incorrigible flirt, and I won't have anything more to do with her I" Max Harjes told himself angrily aa he slammed the front door of Marjory Dnrwent's home behind him and paused on the doorstep ;>ust long enough to turn up his coat collar before facing the icy blast that swept up the avenue. It was on Thursday, at 5.30 p.m., that Mr Harjes came to this wise decision, and Friday, at 4.30 p m., found him impatiently awaiting admittance on the same doorstep whose dust he had so emphatically shaken from his feet on the day previous. Marjory greeted him with a demure smile. She was cosily ensconaed in her own particular corner of the pretty drawing room beside a bright little copper kettle, which hummed merrily as it swung from an artistic wroughfiron crane. There was a tea table, too, upon which was set forth the dainties most dear to Mr Harjes's epicurean heart — preserved ginger, olives, and salted almonds, to say nothing of dainty little tea biscuits, for which Marjory was noted. Then to one side he spied a decanter of rum, a dash of which he greatly relished in the imported Russian tea, the only kind that Marjory ever took the trouble to brew. Sue was a luxurious little creature, this

tiny won: an with bronze hair and liquid, amber eyes — passionate eyes which were belied by her 'determined little mouth and firm, square chin. Lorillard, the novelist, once described her as a small bundle of whims wrapped up in a big piece of obstinacy, and her friends laughed and thought it a very clever description. Miss Danrent was also known as one of the best-dressed women in New York. " Gad, sir, she wears her clothes with more distinction than any other woman in the world," remarked Greyson, New York's greatest social leader, one evening when Marjory calmly entered a ballroom, undisturbed by the glances of a hundred curious eyes. Marjory never under any circumstances lost her self-possession ; not even when Max Harjes strode into her drawing room and insisted upon shaking hands in the good oldfashioned, hearty way, now discountenanced by society, and stared down upon her reproachfully from his six feet of superiority just as though he had a right to reproach her for anything. " Sit down here and make yourself comfortable," Marjory said rather hastily, motioning to a chair across the table. Max surveyed the proffered chair suspiciously. "No; I will sit here," he said, taking a stiff, straight-backed chair at some little distance. " But that is not ao' comfortable, and the light is right in your eyes." "I don't mind that at all; pray do not disturb yourself," Max said unbendingly, as Marjory loaned over to twist into position the flouncy little candle shades. " Oh, of course if you like to be uncomfortable," Marjory retorted in a voice wherein j lurked a laugh. " There is no accounting j for tastes. I have given up trying to plea&e my friends, and now let them please themselves." The young man's eyes kindled dangerously. " I should like to know when you ever tried to please anyone," ho said. " Would you really ? Well, ,1 will tell you. I tried very; hard to please Mr Tollner yesterday, and I succeeded, too." "Mr Tollner is very, easily pleased." " Now that is not a pretty speech at all. I am afraid you are out ot temper about something, Max." " Oh, not at all ; why should Ibe ? " "I cannot imagine any reason ; now that 5 " is a, thing that never happens to me." " No, your forte is the art of making other 1 people cross." " How dreadful ; do I really do that 1 But do you know I was just thinking that same thing about you 1 Yesterday when you came J in Mr Tollner became quite moody and querulous, and I assure you before that he was charmingly affable. You seamed to rub him the wrong way somehow, and it was a long time after you left before I could coax him back to a good humour." " Oh, did ha stay all night ? " Max inquired sarcastically. j " N<o, I did not think to a*k him, but he I dined with mo, quite informally you know, and spent the evening." j "Marjory, you arc fl'rting with that boy." j " Max, have you just found it out 1 " Mar- j jory retorted. ! Max sighed wearily. : " You know you do not care anything for him. I don't see why you cannot leave the poor fellow in the peace he deserves. Wby do you want to make him miserable 1 " "Miserable I Why, I make him the happiest man on earth, so he says. Besides, Ido care a great deal for him. He is so big and handsome, and so amusingly in earnest. I am very fond of him." " But you don't mean to marry him." " How do you know 1 " The man's face turned a shade paler, and j he hastily gulped down a ( cup of hot tea. S " Well, you never % married any of the others," he responded weakly. "But a girl must make a choice some i time, you know. Let me give you some J more tea." | J Max waved away her extended hand. "Marjory, do you mean to marry that boy 1 " I "He has. not asked me yet," Marjory retorted frivolously, busying herself with the shining silver tea things. Max moodily watched the little jewelladen hands. Marjory always wore too many rings, he thought, and he had told her so a good many times ; but she only laughed at him and said that ring? were her only fad, and she meant to wear just as many as Bhe i could crowd on her fingers, l " I love them," she said one evening when j he had been lecturing her on the bad taste of wearing too many jewels (you see Max waß an old and privileged friend of the family). " I feel as though they were alive Bometimes. Look at that great sullen ruby, doesn't it glow like a drop of blood 1 and that emerald, why, it looks like a bit of frozen sea at twi-light-when the water gleams dark green. Thiß sapphire ib daTk blue, like your great, honest eyes, Max, and it always reminds me of you, somehow. It is vulgar, I know, but I do love the diamonds too — every one of them, | little and big — and I can never get enough of them. They gleam and sparkle and glitter as though each one imprisoned a fairy elf. They are more alive than any other jewel. And see that great, calm, heavenly torquoise ; why, that gem preaches a sermon to me every time I look at it. It seems to say, ' Just look at me ; how peaceful and quiet I am among all these dancing sprites, and yet I overßhadow them all in my pure, serene beauty. lam the queen of jewels.' But the opals I love beat of all. They are like beautiful, sympathetic friends; bright and rosy when I am gay, and dull and green and ominous- when anything troubles ; everchanging, restless, precious stoneß, one never tires of their eerie loveliness." " What an imagination you have, little girl I " Max had replied wonderingly when she finished, and never after that did he find fault with her beringad fingers. To-night, though, the gleam of the jewels , beneath the soft glow of candle light made I him irritable, and a sneer grew on his face as ■ he remembered how tenderly she had spoken of her rings when all the while she was ! making more than one man miserable jußt i for an hour's passing amusement. ; i At last the man spoke again, interrupting ! Marjory, who was hummiae a gay little love i song.

" You know Tollner will ask you to marry him sooner or later." A tiny Crown grow upon the little woman 'a white'forow. " Now, my dear Max, did you come here to talk about Mr Tollner 1 Ido not see what business it is of yourß whether I treat him well or ill so long as I am nice to you. I i tbink you will acknowledge that I am always I nice to you." I "Ob, of course, you could not be more polite to your grandmother." " Well, you must not presume upon that fact to lecture me in a grandfatherly fashion. Remember, I am noted for having my own way." " I shall warn poor Charlie Tollner." Marjory leaned her curly head back against a great blue cushion and laughed harder than ever. "SaVe yourself the trouble; he would never believe you. I will tell you what he would think, Max. Of course it would be quite absurd ; but theu young men in love are always ridiculous, you know. Ha would think you were jealous." Max blushed fuiionsly and moved uneaßily. " Pshaw ! Can you not be sensible for 10 j minutes at a time ? " "I sensible? Certainly not; I thought you, at least, knew me batter than that by this time. Why, I am never sensible, not : one second. I should scorn to fall into such i a weakness." j "Bat, Marjory, this is the third youngl man you have fooled this season, and Charlie j is too good a fellow to have bis life rained j just to gratify the whim of a silly, empty- | headed little woman, with more time on her j handp than she knows what to do with." I "Daar me! you are^always complaining j about my having something on my hands ; j awhile sgo it was my poor, innocent rings, and now it is time. lam sure it is not my fault if the days are so long. If I had had my way there would have been no days. I hate them. I should have life all evenings and candle light, and dancing and stargazing. That is my ideal existence." | 'You are as artificial as the candla light i you pretend to admire so much ; you are a« large as the day you pretend to despise is long ; and you are hopelessly spoiled and wickedly capricious," the man broke forth angrily. " Max, you are a character reader. Why , don't you take apartments and go into the profession^? You could make much more money than you do in your dull, stupid business. Just think, too, of the pretty girls whose eyes you could look into while you. were scolding them for their faults. I don't see, though, why you should speak in such an aggrieved fashion about my disposition. Did I ever pretend to bs strong-minded and athletic and industrious ? Of course, lam tilly and frivolous and lazy— and, what is more, lam glad of it ; so, you see, you caanot make me feel a bit ashamed of myself. I am rather prond, to tell the truth, I that I have the courigs to be indolent ! and nonsensical in the face of all the distressfully ambitious, intelligent, people that are trying to turn the world topsy-turvy. As for poor Mr Tollner, aa you say, he is a very fortunate young man to have the blessing of my friendship at all. It will not hurbhim the least bit in the world to receive a lesson in the art of making love. A young man's heart is not so easily broken, believe me. I have seen a great many go through the same experience, and ,they> always coma out in the end with their' conceit uninjured and their hearts quite whole. Even a woman can bear up under a shock, let alone a man. Love troubles are never serious, 1 though they may seem bo to &uch a hopelessly prosaic old bachelor as yourself. I speak from sad experience, Max. Cupid's am>w never kills." i Max looked up quickly, for there was a sugI gostion of tears in the girl's voice as «he ended, though she had started so mockingly. " Did you mean to say, Marjory, that you have ever been in love ? " he asked abruptly, man-fashion, gazing at the Frenchy little 1 figure in consternation. "In love — in love I I am in love now — so madly, entirely in love that I would count everything else in tho world as well loßt for my love's sake if I could make him feel as I do." The last word ended in a great, heartbroken sob, and Marjory buried her face in an absurd little lace handkerchief, and abandoned herself to a good hard cry, for she never did anything half-heartedly. ' " Good gracious 1 What a brute I have been ; but Marjory, dear little girl, I never suspected such a thing. Why, I didn't even know that there was room for such a useless member as a heart in that wee tmall body of yours. Forgive me, little girl, I had no business to scold you anyway ; bnt how on earth was I to know that such a little woman as you are could care so much about anything 1 " Then Marjory laughed through her tears as suddenly as Bhe had commenced to cry. " Did you think a little woman couldn't fall in love ? " she inquired with^some of her customary vivacity. "How funny; according to you only a giaatess could have much affection." " There, forgive me, little one. I know I am a bear, but I am worried with a lot of matters just now, and you always stand my fault-findiDg so well that I needs must let it all out on you." " What is worrying you 1 " Marjory demanded, straightening herself and drying her eyes. " Oh, a lot of thing 3 ; mostly stupid business matters, as you would say." " Have you lost any money 1 " "Dear me, how wondrous wi«e you ara getting, Miss Frivolous. Don't yon know a business man is always losing money when he is not making it 1 Bat it is not a thing that you could ever understand." " Why not 1 lam not a fool, ami!" " You are a very pretty, fascinating little woman, and that man you are in love with • must be a chump. I fancy he is the only person in the world that ever resisted your blandishments. By the way, I must go now. Why, ib is almost time to dine. Say goodbye to me, Marjory, for I may not get a chance to call again before I leave for the West. lam thinking of following Greeley'B advice and seeking my fortune in California now that I have made such a mess of things here. Tell me good-bye and say that you forgive me for scolding you." , " Wby, that is the reason I let you come

to see me. You are the only person in tbe . world that dares to scold me. I like it, it amuses me." After tbat day Max Harjes hastened hid preparations to leave town. " There is nothing to keep me here," he told himself, "now that I know Marjory cares for another man. I shall get over it all better when I put the continent between m»." One day he received a cheque for several thousand dollars drawn by a prominent law firm. A note which accompanied the cheque stated that the money bad bean placed to bis credit by a friend who knew something of his financial straits. Max put the cheque in his pocket. He had no intention of using it, but it warmed his heart to know that in the wide world there was one person who sympathised with him iD his loneliness. The day before he started West be broke his resolution, and went to take tea with Marjory for the last time. Evervtbing was the same — the little tea table, the mellow candle light, and Marjory'B gay laugh. "So you are really going," the little maid chattered as she poured his tea. •' Ido love to have people go away — ifc is so nice to think of seeing them again after a long absence ; and then one always thinks co much more of the people who are away." Max watched her gravely. His heart was too full for jesting, and her lightness jarred upon him. "Somehow Marjory seemed different. She did not lcok quite natural, and as she talked on he wondered wbere tbe change lay. Then she passed him a cup of tea, and be 8&w in a flash what bad puzzled him. " Marjory," he oried, seizing her little bare, white hand, " where are your rings 1 " " Oh, yes, they are gone — I had forgotten ; you see, I determined to take your advice and dress in better taste, co I sold them." Max looked at her steadily, and beneath his earnest regard a guilty flush rose cII over her snowy throar, her cheeks, her tiny ears, until it met tbe frivolous curls upon her forehead. Max was a slow, blundering bachelor, bat he could pat two and two together, and 80 now he placed bis hand in bis pocket and drew forth tbe anonymous cheque be had received. * " Do you happen to know anything abont this 1 " be asked. Marjory tried to laugh, but words failed her, and she snatched away her hand and covered her burning face. Then the man waxed bolder. " Who are you in love with, Marjory 1 " he asked peremptorily. " I bate you 1 " Marjory burst forth. Strange to say, this agreeable little speech ssem&d to make Max quite happy, for be took the struggling little figure in his arms and kissed her hair and throat with passionate, hungry kisser, and held her so close that the lay quiet and acquiescent upon hLs breact. " What a fool I bare been not to guess it," he -said. " Why didn't yon tell me 1 " " I tried to, but you always thought I was jesting, and so I gave it up." ■ "You mast think an awful lot of me to give up your beloved rings, my darling. Never mind, yon shall have twice as many more -.when I make my pile." '.' Now I can go West with you, Max ? " " WelJ; you don't suppose for a moment that I- would consent now to go alone, do yoa t I was only going on your account, anyway, because I thought you could never care for me." " I don't see what makes you care for me, Max," Marjory remarked plaintively. " I will tell you, dear : It is all because you -are such a frivolous little woman." And be laughed as he looked into her .eyes, wherein a woman's heart shone forth.

vinegar, sugar, onions, and spices until tender. Put into small jars and cover well. For cold meat the above is found excellent. Country Girl.— To take mildew out of linen dissolve salts of lemon in water and apply to the mildewed parts, afterwards washing the salts of lemon (poison) out.