BARBARA HOLDS HER OWN.

Otago Witness, Issue 3808, 8 March 1927, Page 81

BARBARA HOLDS HER OWN.

By

May Wynne.

| (Copyright.—For the Witness.) J ' “Of course, Bob must please himself,” ' teaid Leta, with a shrug of her shoulders, > "but I think he is making a great mistake. Why don’t you speak to him, mother—he would listen to you or Gwen.” The mother sighed and looked at Gwen, whose brow was wrinkled into a frown of perplexity. Of course, it was tremendously important that Bob should marry the wife to make him happy—tut, oh! when, when will perverse man allow mother or sister to choose his bride ? Bob-*-a trifle spoiled by being the only toy, and fatherless—had actually chosen unaided. And it was only natural that Beta, his married sister, should come to the old home nest .to discuss the great event with mother and Gwen—who, at 34, was quite the irrevocable old maid of the gentle and kindly type now nearly extinct. But then, as Leta would have told you, nothing r could be more out of date than that little old ivy-clad home, with its pretty garden and lavenderscented rooms. The only marvel was that Bob had been content for so long to live at home and go up and down to the office so regularly. “I don’t wonder,” went on Leta, in her brisk, put-every-one-right-in-a-minute manner, “that Bob wants to marry. He is 30, and it is quite time he had a home of his own; but seeing how content he has been all these years to live a humdrum life with you two darlings, one would have expected him to choose an old-fashioned girl, like Betty Cardrone, the vicar's daughter, or even little Elaine Brinton. I cannot understand his engaging himself to a modern girl like Barbara Silford.” “Of course, she is pretty,” ventured Gwen. Leta laughed. Is she? she asked. “I’m not sure that I agree. She has nice hair—and I expect spends a fortune on having it waved and shingled; quite likely has it touched up, too!! Then she powders her face unblushingly—l don’t mean to Bay I don’t powder, but I don’t do it at restaurants, or in railway carriages. She is hopelessly extravagant in dress, and cares for nothing but pleasure.” Her mother was becoming really distressed. “Of course, you know her so much better than we do, dear,” she sighed. “Gw-en and I have pnly seen her two or three times for an hour at most. She Beemed a nice, bright girl—but we had no opportunity to judge.” “And devoted to Bob,’’.added Gwen. Leta shrugged. Of course, she is devoted—till the novelty wears off. But what sort of a housewife is she going to make? It is not as if Bob were rich. And you will Bee-Barbara will drag him right down. bl>e is hopeless. I asked her if she had ever been through a course of domestic economy, and she laughed in my face Baying she did not even know what it meant. I am truly sorry for Bob.” ‘ It is very distressful to think of Bob making such a mistake. One never realised she was that sort of a girl. Gwon and I go out so little. We are terribly behind the times,” said her mother. “I have hinted my opinion to Bob,” said Leta, “but he never will take anything from me. Only I am sure for his own sake you will give him a word I oint out the contrast between a woman ’who. thinks first of her home—and one who rushes from excitement to excitement. I believe Bob will listen. He is old-fashioned himself, though it would be treason to tell him so.” That was enough advice for one day, and Leta whirled off in a bustle. It was her small Lennie’s birthday, and she had to buy a host of cakes for liis birthday feast. The mother and Gwen, having nothing to distract them, sat and discussed Barbara. Of course, she was very gay and possibly selfish. It would have been better if Bob had fallen in love with dear Betty or Elaine. - “Of course, you and I cannot really judge, ’ said Gwen, “I: liked what I saw of her, but I do dislike the modern girl. I will go up to my room when Bob comes home tins evening, and then you can have a nice talk to him. lie would resent my being prepent.” That was a piece of moral cowardice on Gwen’s part 1 She hated to be present at any sort of trying interview, and on the rare occasions when the servant had to have notice given would contrive somehow to be away from home, or tremendously busy. “I think you could point out things better than I,” murmured her mother, “and Bob would never resent your hearing anything I had to say. You can go upstairs whilst I broach the subject, and then come down to help me.” _ It seemed quite a big conspiracy to the simple pair, and Gwen was restless and unsettled all day! She did hope Bob would listen—and—and quite understand it was his own happiness they were thinking about. Bob did understand, too. It was rather wonderful, since a man in love is not apt to be able to listen to criticisms about the one and only girl. But then

his mother's criticisms were so faltering, her suggestions and fears so timidly voiced that no one could be angry. Added to which it just happened that Bob had already had a somewhat heated argument with his financee over the matter of smoking. Barbara smoked—well! more cigarettes than were good for her. She enjoyed them, too—but then, that -was her way. She had left school brimming over with zeal for enjoyment, and meant to have a good time even before she began to think of what she intended doing with her life. So now Bob, listening to those words of 'warning, grew anxious, though protesting. Gwen appeared at the right moment for reference to bS made to her. And again Gwen’s courage failed. “Of course, you know, I don’t know anything about Barbara,” she babbled nervously. “But Leta was here and told us. She was dreadfully concerned. I—l don’t suppose Barbara is different to nine; tenths of other girls—but—but—you see, Bob, we—mother and I—arc old-fashioned —and it worries us to hear about smoking and —drinking cocktails and things like that.” “I am perfectly certain Barbara never dreams of drinking cocktails,” declared Bob grimly; but he went off to work next day in a dreadfully worried state of mind. He would not have taken any notice had Leta spoken to him. Leta was far too fond of interfering and gossiping ; he intended calling round at his married sister’s that evening to ask her kindly to mind her own business. He did call at Leta’s, but it necessitated ’phoning to tell Barbara he would not be round at her home. The news did not seem to please his fiancee at all. In fact, she answered in a distinctly off-hand way! “Righto,” she retorted, “of course, you knew Uncle Hal was coming on purpose to be introduced, but it doesn’t matter in the least! I shall ’phone for Barton and Tess to come. Tess is such a scream she is sure to rouse him up. By the way, don’t turn up to-morrow, as I am going to be out.” Bob hung up the receiver with the air of a man who has lost a sovereign and picked up a sixpence! He particularly disliked Barbara’s cousin Tess, and was only looking for the right chance to ask her to “drop” being so friendly with her. He went to Leta’s, ripe for believing all sorts of gossip. And Leta had plenty for him! Gwen had been round to persuade her to look for Barbara’s good points—and if there was one" thing Leta disliked it was Gwen in that peace-making mood. It rubbed her up entirely the wrong way, implying as it did that she was out to make trouble, which was, of course, the last thing in the world she wished to do. So Gwen was snubbed and sent home in tears, whilst Leta, having further relieved her irritation by smacking Lennie and sending him to bed, was quite prepared to greet her brother. Her mood was slightly sarcastic at first, but, when she found Bob distressed instead of aggressive, she became motherly, and poured advice upon him in a way the gentle little mother at home would never have done. “You know we all think the world of you, Bob,” she concluded. “And I only speak out because I don’t want to see you making a mess of your life as poor Tony Scarrock has done. If a girl of twenty can’t find a better way of spending her money than in drinking cocktails and smoking cigarettes she is not fit to marry. That’s my opinion.” “I never knew Barbara did drink cocktails,” protested Bob. “She always has a lemon squash or ’’ “As you like,’’ interposed Leta, with her French shrug! “Of course, it is better for you to find out for yourself. But don’t say I’ve not warned you.” t Bob went home in a state known as “hump,” and gave his mother and sister’ the thinnest of times, but then they only put it down to business worry, and did their humble best not to bother him with questions. Bob worked late next night—with a heavy mail in, and one of the clerks away. He decided that, rather than meet the mute reproach of being inconsiderate to the feelings of the cook, who disliked keeping the evening meal hot, he would dine at a restaurant and go afterwards to a play. He walkjcd wearily into his favourite resort, and the first trio he marked down were Barton, Tess—and Barbara! Alas! Leta was right. A long thin glass containing a pink-coloured drink stood beside each plate. Cocktails! Bob was so upset that he walked right, out of the place after one storm-laden glance into his fiancee’s laughing face. Of course, Barbara ought to have been waiting for him at home. Waiting to receive his kisses, accusations, and fdrgivenes. Instead— It ended in his returning home supperless and exhausted. How his mother and Gwen fussed over him. As a rule Bob liked being fyssed. over. He enjoyed, in a mild kind of way, being the hero of the household; Really, these two poor dears thoroughly spoiled him, and the average onlooker might -with reason pity the wife-to-be. But to-night Bob was not in the mood to be coddled.' He wanted to sit alone in the gloom and misery. It irritated him when Gwen went out mysteriously to the deserted kitchen and rushed in with a speciallymade omelette, whilst mother fussed about till she had unearthed a bottle of old Burgundy to revive her darling.He ate and drank aggressively, refused confidences, but, as he said good-night, imparted the brief confession that he believed he had made a mistake. His mother spent st sleepless night, tormented by self-questioning. Was Barbara the possible wrecker of her boy’s

life? And would the wreck come about by marrying—or in not marying her? Time and tide wait for no man, and so Bob had to go to work in the usual way. But he chose the luncheon hour in which to have his heart-to-heart talk with the girl who cared so little for him, etc., Barbara, fresh and sweet as the spring daffodils which bedecked the woods and meadows, responded to the phone call, and beamed to find a room engaged for two, and luncheon awaiting. She enjoyed a jolly lunch, and it was high time Bob and she kissed and became friends again. She was even prepared to own she had been in the wrong,.piqued by his failure to come and meet the rich uncle who might make marriage practicable at an early date. Of course, it had been bravado to send for the cousins whom dear old Bob hated, and. still worse bravado to sip her first cocktail—horrid stuff! So she laughed into Bob’s gloomy eyes, and studied the menu with healthy appetite. Then she put both elbows on the table. “Well, how’s the digestion?” she asked gaily. “You look pasty, dear lad. Now, don’t get worried. Let’s have all the cards on the table. You were tiresome, and so was I. Shall we kiss and be friends, or are you nervous for fear the waiter will bring the soup?” Bob frowned. He was vexed to find Barbara’s merry eyes disarming him even before the battle. She was spring-tide—-sweet, fresh, joyous. Her green frock gave the of daffodil leaves imprisoning their golden glory. He loved those soft, fair curls clustering round the sweetest face. And, even if she did powder, the peach bloom beneath was her own. But—he had his mother’s warning, Leta’s denunciation—and his whole life’s happiness was at stake. “You are right about having the cards on the table, Barbara,” he replied. “I am going to speak plainly. Nou know what I am going to say. I’ve seen too much of the modern woman’s mania for wrecking homes to risk my happiness. If you prize cocktails, cigarettes, and the company of friends I consider unfit for you, more than my very humdrum love and offer of a humdrum life, you would be kind to tell me frankly. I had no idea you really eared for that sort of thing till I saw you at the L with the cousins you know I dislike.” Yes—perfectly true, she did know he disliked Tess and Barton. As a matter of fact, she had proved he was quite right. She had had a flare-up with them last evening, and was never going to speak to them again. But she was not going to acknowledge this to —to an iceberg. Instead, she welcomed the waiter and soup with beaming smiles, and totally ignored Bob’s ultimatum, whilst she vowed no soup “touched” tomato. “I’m so glad I’m hungry,” she chirped; “I mean to eat everything.” But she could not struggle through all that soup, feeling as if she should choke. Bob proceeded with his luncheon, stolid and aggressive, but he did not choose to waste his food, since Bob had Scottish blood in him. It is always difficult to start a lecture, but a positive nightmare to re-open it when once started. And Barbara seemed determined not to give him his chance. She chattered like a magpie, and wasted her food dreadfully. Bob’s temper was seething as he attempted to make a start and failed. The natural result was inevitable. When he began—he hurled himself into his task with the want of tact which a man is more apt to show than a woman. He trampled down all hintings and warnings in sheer denunciation, and I am afraid the skeleton frame of his lecture gave the impression that it did not matter whether Barbara went to the dogs or not, so long as she did not spoil Bob’s placid, self-centred existence. Barbara stared round-eyed. It really horrified her to see and hear such a sketching of her joyous little self. She might have been the novelist’s hackneyed type of green-eyed, red-haired adventuress to hear Bob talk. A cocktail-drinking, dissipated person of tattered morality, and a hunger for selfish enjoyment! As a matter of fact, the real Barbara was not even remotely related to the species. “Oh!” she said when Bob had finished. Then she stood up. “I’d better go,” she said, in- very wobbly tones. “If I don’t I shall say all sorts of things I don’t want to say to you. But I am going to say "them to your sister Leta. You are perfectly welcome to believe I can’t sew on a button or do a single useful thing, but you are not welcome to believe I drink, or gamble, or smoke. I —l had never tasted a cocktail before, and only tasted that one be—-because it had a cherry on the top and was a pretty colour. Tess persuaded me. But I’ll allow you were right about Tess. I —l’ve given her up. N—now I’m" giving you up—though you w—will always say, of course, you did it first. I shouldn’t d—dream of marrying a man who listened to I—lies about me—from his own people. I’ve b—been told before that men always had b—beastly relations, but I liked your mother and Gwen. It’s Leta I hate. I’m going to see her now, and I shall give her a piece of my mind. Then I’ll go home and pack up your presents. I h—hope you’ll find a nice, angelic wife who will let you play Grand Sultan. I—l expect you’ll have to go to Turkey, though, to

get the sort. Now, I’m going. I don’t hate you, though you haven’t played a mans game, except in being selfish. Good-bye— -and don’t attempt to argue. told me your opinion, and l—l’m much obliged.” She had gone before Bob could rally from the storm-blast. He was quite overwhelmed, and serve-him right! A fellow-man might have found extenuating circumstances, for he had been spoiled so hopelessly by those meek, little, oldfashioned dears at home, and he had become self-centred without realising it one bit. Naturally, he wanted to be happv, and he had jumped headlong to the conclusion that Barbara did not care two snaps for anyone but herself. That was the fault of the books he had read. Novelists love to strip the modern woman of a heart, whereas her heart is all right, only temporarily displaced by modem nerves. It is the elder generation which should answer for those. Poor Barbara was far more to be pitied as she whirled away, for she happened to love Bob with genuine affection, and e d very blank as she pulled oft her enagement ring and stuffed it into her wee bag. By the time she leached Leta s she was quite prepared to storm at her—properly. lhe servant who opened the door roust have been modern, too, in the way of nerves. Sh e looked a positive sketch, with £ a Y, awi y» apron blackened, cheeks teardabbled. She merely moaned when Barbara asked for her mistress. I thought as it was Doctor,” she sobbed. Oh—sakes alive, the poor lamb! Ihe Missus won’t see no one, for Master Lennie’s bin and burnt himself up to a cinder, with a box of matches, and no one knowin’ what to do.” Barbara paled. She could hear those pitiful cries now, and her pulses leapt. She had been Guide Captain when she first left school, and had learned first-aid from A to Z. She had practised it, too, |at camp, and had medals, though it had not occurred to her to show them to Bob! Now, she was down the passage and up the stairs in a twink. Leta, maddened by grief, and helpless in the crisis, knelt wringing her hands beside the child, who screamed if touched, as he lay on the floor. Poor little fellow! his clothes showecl great, holes and were soaking wet, his pretty curls charred and singed. Barbara, without asking leave, exerted the authority of one who knew. Warm water, washing soda, a bath, then oil, wool, a cup of warm coffee, and some brandy. She had even sent Leta running off to fetch what was needed. Lennie’s sobs were ceasing as he lay, eased, in the. warm bath, and drank the stimulating coffee. Yes. he was better, but no one save Barbara must touch him. Her green frock was soon a mass of smears , and stains, but what cared its owner? By the time the doctor came Lennie was in bed, with Barbara beside him—no one but Barbara. Even the mother was ignored though she bore it humbly, too grateful to that bedraggled herione to complain. Later, the doctor gave her his opinion with a brief smile of congratulation. Barbara had saved the child's life. He had been near collapse—the great danger "Iter burning. And Barbara must stay to keep the boy quiet and soothed. Lennie screamed if she moved, and Lennie must not scream. Would Barbara consent? Leta, piteous and pleading made her whispered entreaty, and was answered by a' smile which shamed her. “I’m not quite a beast,” said Barbara. “Of course, I shall stay as long as the poor darling wants me.” And the poor darling, being quite the modern child, though a dear even at that, was tenacious in his resolve to get every ounce of endurance out of his preserver. When' all danger over Barbara ‘was free, she was almost too stiff to move, and quite too hungry to care what she ate so long as it was something, whilst she knew for a fact she could drink a gallon of tea. Brandy?—cocktail?—wine of any sort? No, thank you! But Barbara was laughing over her refusal. When one wins a victory and sees one’s enemies in the dust, not knowing how to grovel deep enough, one must be generous. Barbara kissed away Leta’s tears, and accepted her invitation to go into the dining room, whilst the grateful mother returned to the sleeper upstairs. She was hungry and thirsty. In fact, her meal was her chief thought, of course, though at the back of her mind she could not help wondering what Bob would be, thinking—why, where was her engagement ring? She had opened the dining room door where a royal meal would be waiting. But how odd that that meal should suddenly be forgotten! “Oh,” said Barbara. But Bob had so much to say that she had no chance to speak another word for at least 10. minutes. And then .she only had breath left for one. “Darling!” she panted. And Bob knew he was the luckiest man in- the world, though Leta had already told him. that a dozen times. Of course mother and Gwen said: “Amen.”