A FINAL ARGUMENT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9040, 21 September 1907, Page 2

A FINAL ARGUMENT.

(By MRS NEISH in the " Daily * 7 Mail.")

" What a pity you can't come with me, Gwen. I did so want to go to Homburg." , , "Dearest, I would with pleasure, but I really » can't "—and my cousin, Gwen Randall, looked deprecatingly across at me. "To tell the truth, Neil, my plans are tather unsettled just now." When a widow, and, moreover, a young and pretty widow, tells you her plane are rather unsettled, there is only one fnrther question to be asked. " Who is it. Gwen P" She laughed a little consciously, and then she Wushed. "Sir Richard Morton." " Won't you find the daughter Tather a handful?" T naked — For I knew Norma Morton fairly well. "Why should I?" asked Gwen. "Tsn't dhe nice? How old is sh«. by the way?" " She is barely eighteen and dreadfully spoiled, and has grown up with ' views ' on every sort of subject. Have you never met herP" I asked in much astonishment. Gwen shook her head. " No — not often. I have just seen her .once or twice, 'and she seemed a pretty little thing. T really hardly noticed her. I am not over fond of girls of that age, and they are very easily put in their place — but I hope we shall be friends if I should— — " she paused. | "Settle, your plans," I said, laughing. " Well, I know Norma pretty well, and I honestly think you will have your work cut out." •' T don't think so." said Gwen. " T should be a delightful stepmother — al- | though, of course, I shouldn't stand any nonsense. If there was any trouble I should send her back to schoqj or fat i her live with her aunt. But why shouldn't we get on ?" " Well," I said doubtfully, as T rose to go, " I don't see really why you should not ; but •it will depend a good deal on what you call nonsense. T think Gwennie. from what I know of ! Sir Richard's daughter, he really is in need of a protector, and he could not I have a better one — for you, at any rate, will make him happy." "Papa is really a great responsibility," Said Norma Morton, puckering up her pretty forehead. " Great," I agreed, and you really Ought to write a book on the ' Ref orI mation of Fathers.' " : "Do you think so?" said Norma i eagerly. " Yes. T believe I could ; in fact, I am writing a book now — no, not | on fathers," she added—" just explaining my views on the simple life and — " "What is it called?" "I haven't thought of a title yet. I think I shall call it " " 'Back to the Land,' " I suggested. "No," she said seriously, "T think that has been done already — and I want to be original." "There is nothing very original about the simple life," I began ; "Adam and Eve were " "Don't be silly J" said Norma severely. " I am going to point out in my book the uselossnoss or wasting money, ( the vulgarity of giving pretentious dinners, and the value of true economy, "Doesn't your father agree with your views?" I interruptrd, to spare myself a further list of headings. "Papa? My dear, he's awful! a mere bon vivant. He eats four courses for dinner." "Moderate man! My father has seven." " And he seemed quite vexed when I changed it to two." "What did he cay?" "I never repeat that sort of thing," said Norma sedately. " I mean to change things gradually. I 6ent cook away yesterday and one of the housemaids, and I am shutting up 6everal of the larger bedrooms, 36 I don't mean to entertain, excepting, of course, my monthly Debating Society. I give them tea, at least we call it tea." " Nice and cheap," I murmured. "Yes, we only have wholpmeal bread and milk, and there are apples if anyone wants them — apples are both wholesome and nourishing." " And usually sour or woolly too." "If they are sour they can be baked." " Aren't you going to entertain at The Towers this summer P" I presently jfiked. *'No,' J said Norma. "It is to be a real rest for papa and for me. I 6hall take my Debating Society down for the day next month. v Isn't Gwen coming?" I asked. "I thought 6he 6aid youT father had asked her. My cousin, Gwen Randall," I added in answer to a puzzled look. " Noj" said Norma. " Papa did cay something about it, but to tell the truth, Nell, I am not going to have her. I know I ought not to cay so to you: but she is not at all my style." "No," I agreed, looking at the severe little expression and the hideously unbecomingly dressed hair and out-of-taste drees. " I don't think 6he really is your style." "So why have her?" asked Norma ©imply, "I told papa I did not care for her, nor did I think her a particularly suitable friend tor him." Truly the present-day parent is well brought up ! " And he was willing, of course, to drop her at onceP" " No, he was very rude indeed, said Norma; "so rude that I did not even come down to dinner; but I am sure he took what I said to heart, because 1 put it so extremely plainly." "I am sure he did," I agreed cheerfully, "and I sincerely hope he will become a really obedient and tractable parent.'' ..., - c " You can do anything with a man it you only have the courage to put your foot down," said Norma with much decision, " and, fond as I am ot you, Nell, I really do not care for your cousin, and so I have shown papa quite plainly I do not intend to have her here." It was very nearly six weeks later when, in answer to a pressing invitation, I went to spend a few days with Norma. " Where is your father P" I asked as we sat over tea. " He is up in town, but I'm expecting him home to-day. It J6 very strange, but he wired to, the housekeeper instead of me. I nave Bent her away, as there were far too many servants here, and so of course I opened the wire. It only said : ' Coming homo Thursday-— prepare east rooms.

" And did you " " No ; I have shut the east rooms up and so 1 wrote and told him I had put him in the blue 'com— it's sunny, and not so ridiculously large." "Will he mind?" . " I have really never thought about it," said Norma ; " but I don't see why he should, you know. 1 had a note from him saying he was coming one day next week, and he would bring with him a final argument; but it is hopeless to argue, because my views aro not to be changed. A few days later Norma and I went up to town for the night, returning^ to The "lowers the following day. We walked up from the station, Norma being a great advocate for the simplicity of walking, even on a close and tiring day. We went through the drawing-room into the garden. "Who's that with papaP" asked Norma sharply. " Why, well, Ido believe it's your cousin ; but surely, 6he stopped suddenly, t remembering Gwen was my cousin, while I followed a little uncomfortably on to the lawn. "How do you do, papa?" There was grave disa'poroval in Norma's manner as she coldly turned to my cousin Gwen. " How do you do, Mrs Randall? I was not aware 1 was to have this pleasure. Papa — I — l am quite surprised." "Are you, my dear,' said Sir Richard as he drew a shade nearer to Gwennie's side. " Well, we are going to give you another and even pleasanter surprise. Mrs Randall has kindly consented to become your mother — in fact, we were married over a fortnight ago, he added in a low voice full of meaning. " and — cr — this, my dear, is my final argument 1"