SHORT STORY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2433, 31 October 1900, Page 56

SHORT STORY.

A x CHARMING NEW WRITER. By 11. H. Pknkose. s I am a man of strong, and, I venture to think, thoroughly well-founded opinions.'' One of them is that woman is, or should be, a domestic animal ; and in this term there needs be no cause of offence, for are we not all animals — domestic or otherwise? Also — and I count it to myself as a virtue — it has always been my earnest desire that those with whom my lot is cast should absorb my opinions and treat them as though, ■(hey were their very own. This surely is generous. A selfish man would like fe* keep his opinions for his own use, claiming' originality for them, and grudging others a sharjs of the credit that must a& a matter of course be given to one whose views are as sound as mine. No such petty feeling""'' trouble me. I give — my opinions — with both hands, and I ask for no return.

When I married some years ago I chose a wife who approached very closely to my ideal of man's helpmate. She was, and is, extremely pretty; not too strong physically (I always think there is something repulsive about the very robust girl) ; and possessed a. sweetly feminine appreciation of the. attractiveness of good dressing. I like to see a woman in fal-lals and fripperies ; it is a sort of guarantee that she will not step out of her own sphere. At least, I \ised to regard it as such, but my late experience has rendered me somewhat uncertain on This head, and on one or two other heads as well. s I can afford to dress my wife becomingly, and I made it plain to her that no expense was to be spared in that direction. She understood from the first that I took pride in her appearance, and it is only fair to admit that she always did her very .best to oblige me by showing herself clothed to the greatest possible advantage. She knew, what was due to me, and she respected my. wishes in a manner that did credit to herself and me.

I paid all her bills uncomplainingly, and' with such indulgence she should have been content; but, as not even the best of us is quite perfect, I do not mean to speak hardly of her when I admit that she was not so entirely satisfied as I should have liked to sue her.

In fact, to speaak plainly, she went oa strike for an allowance.

1 tried to put the absurdity of the matter before her in a proper light. I asked her what more she could -possibly want. Had she not liberty to give unlimited orders?. Her answer startled me slightly. "It makes one feel independent to hays a few pounds of one's own," she sa-ich' "Sometimes I want to go into town and can't go, just because I have forgotten to ask you for cab fares the night before." "My clear," I said in the gently tolerant' manner which I always adopt towards the 1 ;weaker, vesjel^ $$

go into town except for some very special business? You have no special business except shopping, and as you always think of that in good time you are not likely to forget to ask me for money for cabs." She gave a little stamp of her foot (she las very pretty feet), and answered me with a show of impatience of which I could not help disapproving. "Do you expect me to spend my whole life between four walls while you are happy and busy at your office?" she asked. "I may any day take a sudden fancy to go into town, and I wish to be free to do so. Once there I can interest myself in many •ways besides shopping." I must explain that we have a charming little home in Fulham, and that I go into town nearly every day, being the editor of an important weekly paper. "I don't know what you mean by my being happy at my office," I said in a justly 3ggri<fved tone. "I work hard there — very hard."

"But you like the work," she interrupted, "and you yourself have told me that there is no happiness in the world like that afforded by v plenty of congenial occupation." "And such," I answered, being always quick to seize an advantage, "I hoped you would find in regulating your little household, and attending to the sweet and simple duties of home." ; "I can do all that," she asserted, "and still have plenty of time, to go about, and see and hear what is going on in the world."

"It is really quite unnecessary that you should see and hear for yourself," I said. "I can tell you all you ought to know. No young woman has a right to wander freely about by herself. Hei place is by the domestic hearth?"

"Even in summer, when there is no fire on the health?" she inquired, but I passed over this ill-timed flippancy in dignified silence; and, indeed, she scarcely gave me time to speak before she asked, "Can you give me any good reason why it should be

I am an up-to-date man, and it was not likely that I should quote St. Paul to my wife, although I admit that his ideas came in very \iseful to men who had wives to manage in the generations that are past. No, I took up a scientfic position which I felt was unassailable.

"Dearest," I said, tempering my logic with affection, "nature intends the jfemale to be a, home-keeping creature." 1 took "The Descent of Man from the -bookshelf, and opened it impressively at a well-remembered passage. "Darwin says, 'The female glow-worm is destitute of wings, as also are many female moths, some of which never leave their cocoons. Many female parasitic crustaceans have lost their na tatory legs.' " I looked up at her to observe" the effect of tins unanswerable argument, and to my disgustJE, found th.vt >he was actually laughing.

. "But I am neither a glow-woim, aor a moth, nor a parasitic crustacean," she said, with a disproportionate air of triumph. "I am a woman with a certain amount of intelligence which she does not~wish to s-tunt. The more chances "I have of developing freely, the better companion I shall be to you. ' "1 wish for no bettei than you are at present," I assured her fondly; and that certainly should have satisfied her; but, as she turned her back to hi-, I waiqlit sight of her face in an opposite mirror, and saw that she was making a "move." I took her hand and kissed her, feeling that something more than -words was needed to soothe her ruffled spirit. "Don't let this foolish question arise between us again,' 1 I entreated. "All right," she said. "I'm not a beggar. If you won't give me money, I'll earn it for myself. That's all."

Then I laughed happily, for if she joked it was a sign that her good humour was restored. And, of course, I concluded that she was joking. How could she, my wife, earn money — she, in her sheltered life? She did not mention the subject of an allowance to me again, and I knew that her days were happy and full of interest, because she always looked bright, and never complained. Time passed, and two children came to make our home perfect. The little ones were always cared ,for and exquisitely dressed, as my children should be ; and I noticed with much pleasure that my wife did not, leave the care of them wholly to servants, as ladies of the present day are so apt to do. I flattered myself that this was my doing. I had in the beginning pointed out to her the beauty of domesticity, and I had kept out of her way the temptation of acting in a manner contrary to my own principles, which now ■were also hers. She was ndt without amusement, for she had "plenty of friends in the neighbourhood, and was quite at liberty to j>ay visits and go to afternoon teas as often as she liked. We frequently dined out together ; occasionally went to dances ; and I took her to theatres when there was anything on that I considered fit for her to see. She had everything for which the heart of woman could wish, and it was no surprise to me to &cc her looking well and happy.

*one room in the house she asked leave to devote entirely to her own use, and I gladly consented, as I always did to any reasonable request. She kept the door locked ; and, indeed, it never occurred to me to attempt to enter. I felt sure that she spent many pleasant hours there — especially on wet days — designing costumes for herself and the children, and making up her household accounts. I liked to picture •her to myself engaged in these womanly occupations ; and I commended the tact which lay at the bottom of her desire to keep out ' of my way the evidential litter of work so uninteresting to a man.

■ In my own work she always affected to take a kindly interest, and was ever ready to lead me into talk about the literary "lanagement of the Weekly Eclipse. I knew she wished to please me ; arid, to let h«r see that I appreciated her motive, I -alkeias freely and intelligently as I should have done to another man, although, naturaHf t ~ I did not, jayject &w to enter into ajl

my ideas, nor even invariably to catch my meaning.

" I wish," I said, one evening, " that Jane Leslie would offer a contribution to the Eclipse. It is against my principles to solicit contributions, and I particularly object to doing so in the case of women writers ; but one must occasionally make an exception."

"Who is Jane Leslie?"' she asked; and for a moment I could not help thinking that it was rather stupid of her not to knoAV. Then I remembered the forbearance due to feminine ignorance, and without the smallest sign of impatience I gave her all the information I had at my disposal.

" Jane Leslie is a very charming neAv writer," I said. " I wonder they have hot sent you her noA r el from the library. It is remarkably clever, and Aery much talked about. Up to the present she has produced only one book, but she has written articles and short stories innumerable for the weeklies and monthlies. The Eclipse is one of the feAV weeklies she has never appeared in, and her work is so much run after just now that I think it is rather a disadvantage not to have her name to shoAV occasionally."

My Avife looked thoughtful, but Avhen she spoke I found that she had, in the essentially feminine manner, lost sight of the main question under discussion, and gone off on a side issue. "Have you read her book?" she asked. "Of ( course I have, ' I said. " I reviewed it myself in the Eclipse."

<! And you really think it remarkably clever? "'

'" Certainly, I do. As you are so much interested 1 Avill order it for you." " I Avasn't thinking about reading it," she said, rather ungratefully. " I was only wondering if you avouM consider that this authoress was fulfilling her destiny if she carried out your theory about women, and did nothing but &it by the domestic hearth."

It Avas agreeable to find that my words had been treasured. " But Avhy," I asked, " make a special case of Jane Leslie? Women of genius, and of exceptional are always Avith us. They are the exceptions. I lay down no rules for them. I lay doAvn rules only for the average woman. Also, darling, it may please you to knoAv that I believe the average woman is a far happier creature than her gifted sisters."

She gave me a beautiful, Avide-eyed, innocent look, and asked thrillingly, " Are you always, always right, John ? "

It Avas a charming evidence of trust ; but great minds are unassuming, and I resisted the temptation of sealing her confidence even -by an assent that I felt Trould have been justifiable.

" Perhaps not quite invariably, dear," I said, Avith a smile, which I saAv instantly refiected in her eyes. She has a sweetly sympathetic nature. " But I draw my conclusions from the well of experience."

"With the bucket of self-confidence," she added, as I hesitated slightly. " And, of course, it is" a good thing to be sure of yourself ; for, if you are not, how could anybody else be?"

I glanced at her shrewdly, but her eyes were as sweet and innocent as ever, and I conld not believe that she was sharpening her wits on me. Indeed, I scarcely realised that she had any wits to 1 sharpen. "As I was saying," I continued quietly, " the woman Arho is above the average may claim many exemptions which would only be injurious to others."

" But how is she to know whether die is above the average or not until she tries?" my wife persisted. "When may she begin to claim exemption from the fetters of commonplace womanhood? "

" When she has done something to prove her right."

" But mental powers A7on't always develop unassisted, will they? She must have a certain amount of freedom before she can produce work that will establish her right to go on producing. Do you think you could try to make it your own case, John — just for the sake of argument? You are" very clever, and dc a great deal of good work of the sort that men do kept " (she has always a sweetly tactful way of stating facts) " but do you think you would have found your way into your editorial chair if youi chances in life had been, let us say, exactly mine ? "

I smiled indulgently, considering the question too frivolous to be worth an answer. Then she made another dart aside.

" Don't you think," she a&ked, " that you would find Jane Leslie a more congenial companion than you find me?"

I replied Avith a number of pretty nothings such as women love, but for once she seemed scarcely to appreciate my tenderness.

"Perhaps it is true," she said, "that I have very sweet lips to kiss, and a musical voice to flatter you with ; these things arc to be had in harems. J have 'been your plaything for some years. I ' should like to be your good comrade for a change. " Darling," I said, '• it is amongst men that a man looks for good .comrades ; he does not seek them amongst "' "Average women," she cried, with a laugh that was less musical than usual. Pulling her hand away from me, she ran out of the room ; and presently I heard the door of hei sanctuip shut and the key turn in the lock.

It was a pretty litle burst of temper, and interesting in its way ; but I was very busy just then, and I did not attach much importance to it until later. I was wrapped up in the interests of the Eclipse, and before the end of the week I wrote to Jane Leslie, under cover of. hex publisher, asking her to favour me with a short article of general interest.

With very little delay she sent me a remarkably brilliant paper, accompanied by a gracious little note, which, notwithstanding its graciousness, fixed the price of 'the contribution. at a- figure that; rather aston*

ished me. However, I admire business capacity, and I wanted the article, so I paid for it ungrudgingly, and departed from my usual custom so far as to send the Avriter a pleasantly complimentary letter, together Avith the cheque. She wrote from an address, unknown to me, at the north side of London, and I had a passing feeling of surprise that she did not live in a better-known locality.

A feAV Aveeks later she sent me a charming .short stoiy; ancl not long afterwards I Avas able, OAving to the death of a member of our staff, to offer her a Aveekly column in the "Eclipse." Again she held out for high terms, but I knew her name Avould prove a draAV, and, being anxious to secure her -services,- I paid her fully as much as they Avere Avorth, Arhich is an unwise thing to do, but sometimes unavoidable.

All this led me into an animated correspondence AA'ith Jane Leslie, and I became deeply interested in her personality. We passed from business to friendly relations, and in a short time I flattered myself that I Avas her most trusted friend. Her letters Avere instinct with wit and humour. She gave- me glimpses into a mind that Avas truly masculine in its breadth and depth;, and towards the end she dropped hints, Avhich stirred me to the bottom of my soul, of being scantily appreciated jn her oAvn home. v

Now I had not thought it necessary to tell my Avife much about this correspondence. I thought -At possible she might ask to see the letters ; and although there Avas nothing in them that Avas not highlycreditable to the .interesting authoress, I scarcely felt I should be justified in handing OA r er to any third party missives which Avere more or less of a private nature, and certainly written, to me in confidence.

Once or tAvice my conscience pricked me Avith the recollection of my sAveet Avife's diffident question, "Don't you think that you AA-ould find Jane Leslie a more congenial companion than you find me?" ' And I reproached myself Avith making true her surmise by the pleasure which I took in this correspondence. HoAvever, as 1 reminded myself, it Avas purely a pleasure of the intellect, ancl my dear one could not be jealous even if she kneAV. Still, I found myself Avishing that she could talk to me as Jane Leslie wrote. I found myself dwelling on the perfection that would exist could the noble mind of Jane Leslie dwell in the lovely body of my wife. And later I experienced a great wish to meet face to face this woman whose intellect exerted over me such a fascinating influence.

Strangely enough, in the whole course of our correspondence I had never cA r en seen her -autograph. Everything she sent me, doAvn to the shortest note, Avas type-writ-ten; and in some absurd way, this small circumstance caused me to feel that she was keeping me at arm's length.

In the spirit of contrariety, I determined | to meet her ; and when next I Avrote I j begged the favour of a personal interview, j I was prepared for a refusal, and felt both relieved and triumphant Avhen she Avrote | asking if she understood me aright — did I mean that I wished to give her an illus- j trated interview in the "Eclipse"? If so, j she would have her photo specially taken for me. She might have meant to imply that any interview she granted me Avould only be- on business lines, but 1 jumped, at the" excuse, begged her to have the photo- ] graph taken immediately, and to appoint a day and hour for our meeting. j She named (Saturday afternoon, and most unfortunately I had promised to take my Avife on that day to a matinee at the Ly- ' ceum. When I went home I broke to her gently that I had been obliged to make anothev appointment. ' "That's all right," she said, good-hu-mouredly; "so have I." This surprised me; -but something — perhaps a sense of the fitness of things, for Avhich I have ahvays been noted — prevented my inquiring into the nature of her engagement. She was always the SAveetest, most accommodating creature in the Avorld, and I believe that no woman ever lived avlio more consistently forbore to ask irrelevant questions. Never have I consciously withheld her due from her.

I set out for the north that Saturday

afternoon rather hopin* that 1 should find Jane Leslie a spectacSd, bony, unattractive object ; and when I had reached the address from Avhich she habittially Avrote, I felt sure that no young and. lovely literary Avoman could abide there. Jane Leslie Avas in all probability either a middle-aged lady or an invalid, her charms those of the intellect alone. Possibly she had relatives depending on her, and was poor, notwithstanding her stiff prices. There must be some reason for her being buried in the polar regions, but why should I continue A T ain conjectures Avhen in five minutes more I should hold the clue to the mystery?

The door Aras opened ; a neat maid-ser-vant ushered me into an untenanted drawing room, asking me ii I Avere the gentleman avlio came by appointment, and departed to summon the authoress.

There aa as nothing either uncommon or artistic about the room, and I felt puzzled by the absence of that distinctive touch of personality Avhich one always expects to find in the surroundings of any true artist. But I had not long to take mental notes of matters unimportant, for in a few minutes the draAving room door opened and I turned to meet her Avhom?

It Avas my Avife avlio stood before me, blushing a little, and smiling pleasantly. Good heavens ! H'ld sho tracked me— followed me? What unworthy suspicion! I felt as if every drop of blood in my body had ,rushed into my face. "What brings you here?" I stammered. "Here?" she said, innocently. "I am spending the day Avith an old school friend. I often come here." This Avas worse than I could have imagined. She kncAV Jane Leslie. No doubt Jane Leslie had shoAvn her all my sympathetic, reverent letters, and so made a worrian's return for the honourable secrecy which I had observed with regard to hers. "I have come to see Miss Jane Leslie," I said, taking the bull by the horns with .as much, coolness as possible*

i " I know," she said. " That is Avhy I am here." " Has Miss Jane Ifeslie deputed you to meet me?" I asked "coldly. "If one can be said to depute oneself," she ansAvered, shrugging her shoulders. " You have asked me to give you an intervieAv for the Eclipse, and I am here to give it to you." "I — you? I asked Jane Leslie." * " That is the name under which 1 Avrite." "You? You?" I kept repeating with a degree of imbecility that, I think, no one has ever before had an opportunity of observing in me. "Are you Jane Leslie?" iShe nodded gaily. All the stiffness Avent out of me. I sank, a mere bundle of relaxed muscles, on the nearest chair. "Why," I gasped, " AA'hy have you played me this trick? " She came close to me, and put her hands on my shoulders. I think she imagined that she Avas forgiving me for something. " Merely," she said, "to prove to you that you Avanted an intellectual companion even more than you Avanted a dressed-up doll for a/pretty plaything." I haA r e immense recuperative powers. I at once found breath enough to say : " But you have disproved your OAvn theory that one cannot produce good Avork without opportunities for development." " And hoAV much do you loioav about my J opportunities ?" she asked, Avith a wicked ' laugh that reminded me of one I had heard ; from her on another occasion. " I took my opportunities. I made them for myself. ; I lived only a very small part of the life ! that you laid out for me. I had another life to live as Avell, and it Avas you avlio decided my career, as it Ava.« ;' ] -o you who in the end supplied me most ally with money to carry out my -plu'. . Oh ! no \ editor ever paid me as you paid foi that first article I sent you " She broke off into unrestrained laughter, Avhich Avas scarcely dignified. " I dare say," I muttered, in dejection. " And I have no doubt I shall go on paying for itk to the end of my life." Then illumination came to me in a flash. My dream was realised. Here Avas the noble mind of Jane Leslie in the beautiful body of my Avife. The body Avas mine, but the mind Avas still to win. And I think I deserved success, because I knelt at her feet and* Avorshipped her, although she had made me feel like a fool for the first time in my life.