OUR- STORYETTE, (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) TWO WOMEN-AND THE ACCESSORY

Rodney and Otamatea Times, Waitemata and Kaipara Gazette, 23 June 1915, Page 6

OUR- STORYETTE, (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) TWO WOMEN-AND THE ACCESSORY

Nan was a queer sort of a girl. People who did not like her said she was "fast," and people who did like her said she was "very lively.'s

Now, her father was a high dignitary of the Church, and knew nothing of her escapades. Besides which*, being a holy man and a charitable, he preferred, when his wife begged him to speak to' Nan for "making herself the talk of the town," to chide with a smile and, a loving pat of the cheek, thinking that the girl was but young and would learn wisdom with years.

Suddenly, and amazingly, Nan became sobered, and her friends flattered themselves that things were changed. So they were, but not for the better. For Nan had fallen in love—hopelessly, furiously, in lore, and—alas and alack, for poor human nature—with a married man! What is more, he was inclined to be fat, was a little bald, and not young. But Nan adored him. And she made no secret of the fact. Therefore, in course of time the object of her worship, Mr. Crawford by name, discovered her sentiments; too, and was much pleased. He had always rather tried to impress his wife with the fact that he was a tremendous lady-killer, and was vexed when she used to smile and say she didn't wonder at all to hear that. So he decided the opportunity was a good one, and immediately reponded.to the call.

He had known her father and mother so long that it was an easy matter for him to make excuses for dropping in at odd moments; for giving Nan a bunch of roses, a book, or a new song —all done in an apparently open fashion and with an accompanying paternal remark. By-and-bye he. took to squeezing her hand, and then it came to an accidental meeting or two out of doors, and, finally, one day when Nan happened on her way down from town to get into a railway compartment in which Mr. Crawford was the only other passenger, he put his arm round her, kissed her lips, and told her she was the dearest, sweetest little girl in the world, and that he was the most unhappy of men. Nan knew it was very wicked, but she trembled with happiness.

After that, things went very badly. Nan managed somehow or other, to meet him every day, and told lies'-by the sackful to her unsuspecting parents. And the smug scoundrel, who, had he chosen, could have easily turned her thoughts away from himself— at any rate in the beginning—continued to visit at the Deanery, and to speak of the* Dean as "a very dear friend of mine, you know."

Things were really looking very black indeed. Nan wae getting herself talked about with a vengeance this time, and mothers were beginning to look askance at her, when again something unexpected happened.

Mrs. Crawford, who knew perfectly well what was going.on—for she loved Jier scamp of a husband, and love is wonderfully smart at discovering a rival—asked the Dean's daughter to tea.

Nan, who had carefully kept out of Mrs. Crawford's way for the last six months—for she was not quite so _hardened to all sense of decency as* the man was—hated the thought of going; but went, nevertheless. She felt horribly uncomfortable as she down from the Deanery to the Crawfords' house. She felt as though she should like to be rude to Mrs. Crawford, and pick a quarrel with her. That would be a good excuse for keeping out of her way altogether for the future. She was ashamed of herself, and, consequently, her meeting with Mrs. Crawford was awkward and al-

most brusque.

But her hostess didn't appear to notice it, and by-and-bye the. conversation drifted into the persona], and Mrs. Crawford began to tell of things that had happened to her when she was a girl.

"I suppose, Mrs. Crawford," said Nan, "you had a whole host of admirers when you were a girl?"

"Oh, no," said Mrs.. Crawford, "I had two or three; that was all. I met ray husband when I was very young, and I never really thought seriously about anyone else, just as I know he never really thought seriously about anyone else but me."

"How nice for you both," said Nan, trying not to sneer too- palpably.

"Yes, there is something so restful in the thought of being able to depend entirely on one person's love, at any rate," said Mrs Crawford, rather

dreamily. "Little worries and troubles ftUde^pff one like wateV off a duck's back; ah! and big troubles, too, for the matter of that."

"Delightful to have such implicit trust,' 3 murmured Nan again. "Yes," Mrs. Crawford went on, "my husband and I are .all in ali to each other," ~

In Nan's ears were ringing words she had heard only last night—"My darling, my one love, nobody has ever been so dear to me as you are" and she felt that in another moment she should spring up and rave at the quiet woman opposite her for a blind fool.

"I could tell you things about my husband which would astonish you," said Mrs. Crawford. "I know the world says he is a thoughtless man, fond of his own pleasure and even more selfish than the generality of men. He has never been thoughtless with me— never selfish with me. He has been all that is good and kind from the day I married him. He nursed me through tedious illness—and more than nursed me, for once he dragged me back from death's very doors by the sheer force of his love and devotion. . You shall not die," he said to me. "I cannot, will not let you go. You are my very soul; I defy death to take you from me. He held me in his arms all that night."

Nan sat rigid. Then she said: "Well, you are a lucky woman, Mrs. Crawford, to have such a model husband. I only hope, if ever I marry, my husband will be equally devoted to me. It must be charming to have never had cause for a moment's uneasiness or jealousy." She could have ground her teeth in her rage. At that moment she hated the man as much as she hated the wife, and that was pretty badly. Suddenly Mrs. Crawford rose, and came swiftly across to where Nan was sitting. She knelt down before the girl, and, forcing her clenched hands out of her muff, took them in her own. The- two women stared straight into each other's eyes, and in both faces there was anguish. In the eyes of the older woman there was also a dumb agony of entreaty; in Nan's, a passionate defiance. Not a word was spoken, and the silent battle of the eyes and souls raged for long minutes. Then Nan slowly drew her hands away and stood up, and Mrs. Crawford staggered to her feet too.

"Then you know," said Nan, in a hard . ; yoice. Mrs. Crawford nodded.

"And you have never made any difference to me, or to him?"

"No," she said, faintly. , The stony look began to go out of Nan's face.

"You are an angel," she said huskily, "and—oh, my God! what an unutterable cad he is!"

The wife winced. "Don't," she said; "men are so weak. You are very attractive, Nan." ■

TEe girl stamped her foot. "Attractive! Oh, heaven! to think- I should have attracted him! I hate him; I loathe him; I loathe myself. And all these months I have neyer realised my own wickedness—have almost gloried in loving him! Do you understand how vile and low a thing I am ?" she whispered fiercely, turning her blazing eyes on the wife. '"Do you know that if he had asked me I I »

Geraldine Crawford shivered, and a little moan forced itself out of her white lips.

"Now tell me you despise me," Nan went on passionately.

But for answer Mrs. Crawford flung loving, tender arms round the girl. "Nan, Nan, I am so sorry for you. I am not reproaching you. I am not blaming you. It was all a mistake. You did not know or understand how much we have been to each other."

"Before God I did not know,' 5 panted Nan. "I thought you were like so many other married couples, fond of and yet indifferent to each other. Can you trust me, you sweet woman?" she asked, gently.

Geraldine nodded. Th© two women kissed each other. SILAS E. TRBADGOLD.