LONDON LOVE SCENES.

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10574, 27 January 1906, Page 1 (Supplement)

LONDON LOVE SCENES.

— — ;u ; (By Keble Howard.) THE SENTIMENTAL WIDOW. "Do you really believe m love?" asked the widow.

The Colonel started. He had been wondering how he could find out the exact amount of her fortune before takiilg the plunge. "Er— oh, yes," he said. "Certainly, certainly." "How refreshing!" sighed the widow. "Love?" queried the Colonel, with a splendid show of tenderness. "I meant, how refreshing to find a man who believes m it, especially a man with so much experience of life." "I have always believed m it," replied the Colonel, simply. His eyes became slightly misty; they were not strong. "I wonder you never married," observed the widow.

She was looking down. He used the opportunity to note the luxury of the room. Even if rumor had exaggerated, she must be worth at least

"Because," he said slowly, "I have waited to find the woman who realised my ideal." The widow shook her head. "I'm afraid you will remain a bachelor to the end of your days," .she remarked. Now might he do it. To be or not to be ? Courage ! "But I have found her," ho murmured hoarsely. "Really?" she was vastly fluttered. "How very interesting ! May one ask ?"

"It is yourself," protested the Colonel, pulling forward his chair a little that he might the more conveniently seize her hand. "Will you take me, Hester?",

"Ruth," corrected the widow. "1 beg your pardon Ruth. Will you — will you marry me?" "Yes," whispered the widow. He dropped on to his knee with difficulty, and brushed her cheek with his moustache, lt tickled frightfully, but the widow did not laugh. "I will do my best to make you happy," promised the Colonel. "1 ought to warn you, though, that I have very little besides my pension." "True love is better than riches. We can afford to face poverty together." ' "Ye-es" the Colonel agreed. "At any rate, it is a comfort to me to reflect that you need never fear privation." The widow sat up. "By the way,' she observed, "1 suppose you know that m the event by my marrying again I lose all my money?" The Colonel gasped. The expression on his face betrayed him. "Thank you," said tho. widow. "1 invonted that to test you. One has to be so careful, doesn't one?" THE TELEGRAM. Cyril stamped the letters as slowly as possible, hoping that the pretty telegraph girl at the far end of the counter, for whom he had been cherishing an honest admiration these six months, would grant him one glance before he went back to his dull lodgings. She usually did. Ida was particularly demure this afternoon, though, for she knew that the keen eye of the lady-superintendent had 'taken m the situation. What a pity that boys were such poor conspirators ! I The last letter was stamped, and Cyril | was dolefully making his way out of the j post office when> quite without warning, Something struck him. It was an idea. IHe hesitated a moment; then walked across to a little desk, helped himself to sfc telegraph- form and wrote : "Will you iheet me at half -past eight to-night under the clock at Victoria Station? Bring ia 1 , friend if you like." ) ilda, still without raising hei'. eyes, Vdok the form that the lovesick clerk .lushed over the counter with trembling _|ngers. Her heart was beating a little mster than usual, but she was careful nbt to betray hbrself. The lady-super-imtendent drew a little nearer, t "You've forgotten to fill m the address," said the girl m a dull, official tqne. |"I — I don't know it," stammered Cyril, very red m the face. , j"I beg your pardon?" Ida had the tajl of her eye on the lady-superintend-ent. She admired Cyril. He was much nicer than any of the fellows who made love to her- at Shepherd's Bush. But the lady-superintendent was not romantic. ': ■ . ■:

"I— l've forgotten it." "Then I don't see how you can send the telegram." "1 thought, perhaps, you could — well, suggest an address." Ida, for all her cunning, could not help laughing. The lady-superintendent came sailing down on her. "ls there anything the matter, Miss Da vies?"

"This gentleman wants to send a telegram, Miss King, but he's forgotten the address." "Then of course "

"I've remembered it now," cried Cyril. And, m sheer desperation, he filled m his own.

"One and twopence halfpenny," said Ida.

Cyril, with a rather rueful expression, paid the money. Yet, after all, It wasn't ■wasted. When he got back to his lodgings that evening, there were two telegrams waiting for him. One hp had sent himself. The other contained a single word — "Yes."

The lady-superintendent cried at the wedding.