PATCHWORK PIECES

Otago Witness, Issue 3889, 25 September 1928, Page 10

PATCHWORK PIECES

By

Eileen Service.

(Special for the Otago Witness.) LXIX.—LOVE’S ACCESSORIES. On the night before Ria was married she had a talk with Squib, who, in spite of her frivolous name, was considered to be very wise in matters pertaining to They sa t on the balcony outside Ria s room, and while Ria clasped her knees and gazed into the moonlight, Squib smoked one after another of the" cigarettes she favoured and talked in her husky xlrawl. She was very fond of Ria. The younger girl had admired her at school, and hung upon her words ever since, and Squib felt a sort of maternal melancholy at the< thought that her shadow was going to be married and as removed from her as if they were two strangers.

“ The fact you’ve got to face. My-Ria,” she said after a long silence, is that love is blind. You’ll never know the real Joe until you’ve ceased to he in love with him, and then you’ll realise that you’ve been looking at him all’■the time through rose-coloured spectacles. That, my dear, is where your common sense must come to the rescue. And because at any moment Joe may see you as you are, you’ll have to set about being as charming as possible, so that his disillusion will be less violent. The trouble y'ith most people is that they refuse to believe that there are such accessories to love as rose-coloured spectacles, and when suddenly they are deprived of them they think the bottom has fallen out of things, and make a great to-do. You. darling, will be wiser.”

c Ve^ y cynical, aren’t you, Squib? Ria asked softly. “I’ve known Joe for ever so long now, and I’m sure * se r G ’J” 11 through rosy glasses. ” hy > h , ls faults are legion, and he feels similarly about mine. I don’t think being blind when we’re so aware of things—really I don’t. And it’s partly because of Joe’s faults , that I care for linn as I do.”

• Ve .^ y sa y in g so just proves my point, Squib said triumphantly. “ It’s because you’re deluding yourself that you feel that way. Not, darling, that 1 have any wish to frighten or depress J ou - But I want you to know that there s going to be a testing time for this love of yours, and, forewarned is forearmed. If you know what to expect you 11 be able to meet the situation sensibly instead of going to pieces as some women do. Innocence in these matters is, to my mind, ignorance, and you know where that leads to? I’m onlv telling you for your own good.” Before she went to sleep that night ia ti'ouglß over the conversation, oquib was a dear and clever, of course, and she had taught her heaps of things that were really helpful.' But she was wrong on the subject of rose-coloured spectacles—quite, quite wrong. Ria and Joe were not so sentimental as that! They looked at each other frankly with wide, unfearing eyes. It was over a year after they ■were married before it happened. Then Ria and Joe quarrelled. A triviality had started it; under favourable conditions it would have been

forgotten in a minute. But affairs were wrong that day, and when the crisis came Joe left the house and disappeared down the road, leaving Ria alone and trembling in the study.' As the door closed she sank down at the desk. Her whole body was shaking with the force of her anger, and her face, as she could see in a mirror before her, was white and distorted. She sat staring vacantly, her thoughts making her inarticulate. Then the reflection in the mirror obtruded itself into her consciousness, and, realising how dreadful she looked, she buried her face in her arms. Oh, hateful, hateful, hateful! She had not known a scene could be so hideous. Not noisy—they were too selfcontrolled for that—but cruel, with hardeyed glances and bitter, biting tones. 11ns must have been what Squib was preparing her for. This was what she had told herself would be impossible in their married life. For now she saw Joe as he really was, a little short man with pudgy hands and weak eves, and the sight was horrible. How could she ever have loved him ? Why haff she not been aware of the truth of him before? Rose-coloured spectacles, of course. Yes, as Squib had said, she had been wearing them all the time, and onlv now was able to perceive things clearly. What a fool she liad been! Then the thought struck her: If she had seen Joe thus he would have seen her differently, too, and know her for a pale, commonplace woman with dishevelled hair, unlovely, unlovable. She writhed in shame as if she w r ere naked. It was over as soon as Joe returned. He came in, contrite for the way that they had parted, and Ria, weening- and laughing, flung herself into his arms. Why had she ever thought of him as little and short and horrid? Now she could see only the kindness of him, the strength, the tender humour. Now those eyes and those pudgy hands were redeemed by gentleness/ “ Never again,” she was telling herself, as she pressed her head against him. “ Let this be a lesson. It must never happen again.” When she was alone she faced the matter squarely. Squib had been very certain that something like this would happen, and had spoken more truth than Ria had realised when she mentioned rose-coloured spectacles. But was she really right? For a spell, Ria had seen her husband in hateful ugliness. But when she was calm again and had washed her heart with tears, that aspect ol him had disappeared, and she had known only his dearness. Which was the truer man—the one of her anger or of her love? And at which time had she been the truer woman for him? Squib would say that in love she had been blind and unable to see the truth. But was what she saw in her furious passion the truth ? She was kneeling beside the window, her head pillowed on her arms. Now she straightened herself and looked up radiantly. Squib was wrong. She had everything topsy-turvy. The truth was seen when one was looking through “ love’s accessories,” not when the rosy spectacles were removed! What she had perceived of Joe in that period of passion had obviously existed before; but it was like a skeleton without the flesh which made it alive and beautiful. Her love was not disillusioning. It was that which gave her clearer vision, allowing her to see the merits and virtues that 'were far more the true Joe than that caricature had been. Truth had been removed when her love had departed.

She felt as if she could sing. What she had discovered was more precious than anything she had ever known before, and its beauty seemed to shout within her. She felt her thoughts go wider. If one w’ould don “ love’s accessories ” more often one would see everybody in a clearer light, not only Joe, but everybody. For the rose-coloured spectacles, instead of distorting vision as Squib had said they did, were magnifying glasses, showing what lies beyond the frailty of the flesh and giving understanding, too.