SHORT STORY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16846, 23 September 1922, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

DIPLOMATIC MANOEUVRES. j l CI&8IE WINS A HAT. j It had come to Tom’s turn to be | diplomatic, for Cissie had failed | wofullv. Jack Fairbanks had come to j her in despair, and Cissie’s gentle, , kindly heart was exceedingly sorry for , him. All the same, even Cissie had lost patience with her pretty, little, ] changeable sister-in-law. ‘Tom. dear,” she said to her husband, “ you must really try and bring Yora to reason. You are the only person in the world to whom she will listen.” Poor Tom f Certainly his little sister Vera was more amenable to him -than to anybody else. But imagine a big, 1 soft-hearted, muscular, blundering fel- : low like Tom. whose wife managed him j thoroughly, being diplomatic! How-, ever, he was the only person to go, and so he went, with much trepidation , of spirit. When Tom and his wife j had gone down south in February they j had left Vera at Aunt Anna’s. and i

tilings were going on swimmingly between her aha Jack Fairbanks. They returned at the end of March to find the lovers parted, Vera and her aunt likewise parted, and Vera established in a flat of her own, independent of everybody. Cissie gave her husband a parting warning as she sent him on his errand. •• Now, Tom. dear, don’t try and invent things. Just tell her the first thing that comes info vonr head.” "Wily Cissie knew that Tom. in those circumstances, would quote herself, being a dutiful husband, and believing there was nobody like his wife. But Tom went eery unwillingly to find the flat where Vera had so recently entrenched herself. He found the p’ace easily enough, and Vera herself admitted him, and seeing it was her big brotjier. gave him the usual kiss, •‘''be had unmistakably been eating chocolate, and looked charmingly independent and unrepentant. “Come in, dear,” she said, “and see how cosy I am. This is nice to got you all to myself!” This speech was an unconscious reflection on her sister-in-law. and Tom resented it. so he cam© in somewhat severely. He found himself in a nondescript place rather prettily furnished. “ What do you call this?” he asked. \ era pushed him into one of the cosy armchairs bv the gas stove, and sat on the table, swinging her feet and finishing a piece of chocolate. “My hall and cooking-room,” she answered ;** isn’t it pretty?” “Did you take the place furnished?” “Oh, dear, no 1 I furnished it mveelf.” Where on earth did you get the money ¥** \ era looked impressive. “ After my engagement to Jack was broken off, I didn’t need the rest of my trousseau money, so I bought this furniture with it.” Tom put his hands in his pockets and gave a low whistle. “I see. It’s more serious than I thought. This time Strove not only broken off an engagement. but ycu’Ve burned your boats.*’ Vera slipped off the table. She could not be dignified enough while she was swinging her legs I don’t suppose Aunt, Anna took the trouble to tel! you. she said with dignity, “ hut I. hare left her, never to return. T am not going to mam, either I am twenty-two. quite old enough to look after myself. The idea of old people always is that the young must be following their - out-of-date conventions, and taking the advice and experience of a generation ago. Whereas we never have the same experience os they have bad, and taking their advice is fatal to our advancement.” There are certain experience® thau we all share alike.’’ suggested Tom drily. “ Love, for instance, and home and marriage.” Well / 1 don’t intend to share them, anyway,” said Vera mutinously. “ l shall never marry. I intend to live in ibis flat until I vet quite old.” *' You’ll be very lonely. Think of all the time you have to wait before you’re old. You'll get sick of this place the moment vou’re finished putting it in order. ” Then T shall have other interest?. There ? my club to go to.” • Of course, although you told rne .1 1 few weeks ago that the women were old cats.” •’Not all of them And perhaps thev were right in saying I flirted. That’s al ; over now. Vera admitting that she flirted ! The cape was serious indeed. Tom leaned forward and lit a cigarette. “Look here, old girl, what was the exact reason why you left Aunt Anna?” Vera compressed her lip*. *• Aunt Anna never understood me. Tom. Ever ! Miice I lived with her I have lived in j an atmosphere of misunderstanding. You don’t know what T have been through. To be always beside a person who has no sympathy, no feeling for you in your suffering—it was killing sometime*. The wonder is that I eivdurod it so long. " But. but,” said Tom. bewildered. “ Aunt Anna has always seemed to me to be a verv sympathetic person.” “Yes probably to you. When one of your children cuts its finger, she can understand that. When Cisi© was ill. she wthink d quite ,y-‘.o n hr •/, nn f**lt that. But of the deeper sorrows of the heart, she knows nothing. When Balph Morton died, what did she care about my feelings?” But surely you weren’t fond of Ralph ?” “Fond! T adored him. But T had no comfort or sympathv anywhere. It nhamvd tbf» whole of mv life.” I’om was mystified. Tty as lie would he cguldj ®careelv remember a time when Vera had been sad. “ Would you have married the fellow?” he asked. His sister looked at him with such an air of reproach that poor Tom almost felt as if he had been guilty of dragging impassioned love down to the regior>.s of the commonplace and meroen- “ I suppose it would have come to that,’ she said, with an air of patience for hia mean understanding. “ Anyway we loved with a love that, the angels —” She broke off hurriedly, drawing her Jia-nd across her brow. “And Aunt told me not to be a fool.” • But you’ll excuse me old girl. if T’m wrong—l always had the idea that the one fault you found with Cis~ie was that she did not sympathise with vou over quite a different person —Harrv Denvers.” “ That is perfectly true.” «aid Vera. “Of course you knew that Cissie did not me cither ” She xigh- “ How seldom do we get sympathy

from our own sex! Harry adores me, and E am devoted to him, poor dear. His love will last him all his life, as Ralph’s does in death ” “ But my dear girl, you couldn’t have rcar-ied tile two .anyway.” Again Vera shrivelled Tom with a look of reproach. “ I could not marry the dead,” she said with dignity. “ But I know they both lor© me— Ralph in his grave and Harry over the ocean.”

“ "Well,” said the direct Tom, “all these things being the case, it’s as well 3’ou’re not keeping it up with Jack too. It’s hardly worth while, if 3-ou ask me, for three men to be hopelessly ir. love with you. whether dead or alive.’

Vera raised her eyebrows. " Do you suppose that only three are in love with me? There are others ” “Well, there may be.” said Tom hurriedly. He was anxious to be spared the recital of any more. However fond some men may be of t.heir sisters, they never quite grasp the fact that it is possible i-hat men may he in love with j them. Tt seems such an absurd thing j to them. j “ And.” continued Vera “ from the • very first. Aunt Anna has never been the slightest hit svmpathetic about mv . affairs.” i “Do you know, she must have foil net it rather hard to keep the on jto the right person, so T suppose she j thought it best to leave it alone.” said j matter-of-fact Tom. “ For my part. M m dashed if I can keep up with so ! many lightning changes.” He began Ito tick off on his fingers. “ First of all there was the johnny that died. 'Well, iot course, lie's hors do combat. Next, | iwc have Harry Denvers, then several ; ; other johnnie you needn’t toll me j | who and lastly Jack Fairbanks. A 1 good job he’s not {lining into a shadow over you. anyhow.” Pm not so sure he isn't,” said j \ era in an injured tone. “ He’s fonder | of me than any of them. You needn’t think our engagement was broken off j because he doesn’t love me.” “You’re mistaken there, my child,” said Tom triumphantly. “You can set your mind at rest about him. I happen to know that he is rapidly forgetting 3*oll. You remember bringing him to our house one night when Gladys Vivian was there? Well, he's been paving her great attention lately, and 'he’s bringing her to dinner to-morrow night.” Vera dropped tensely upright into the chair opposite. Clever Cissie! Tom was bad at make-believe, but he was Convincing enough when he did believe. And his wife had made him think he was speaking the solemn truth. jiie little cat!” Vera exclaimed at last. “ Well, come now.” said Tom. “You don’t, want him yourself, so 3011 might at least let somebody else get him.” Y era got up, came across, and planted herself coaxingly on the arm of her brother’s chair. “Tom, dear,” she said patting his hair caressingly. “ may c ?™ e dinner to-morrow night, “ Why. certainly. You know vou can come any time. We’ve always wanted you to stay with us.” “Well. I’ll come, then, and Gladys will find her little game spoilt.” lorn went home, much puzzled, to report matters to his wife. At the conclusion of his tale he found himself made much of. “ You are a diplomat, after all. dear,” said Cissie. intensely I amused.' ’ Nobody could have achieved j more. I don’t mind having a little bet I with you now. A new hat to a tie ' that the engagement between Vera and Jack Fairbanks is renewed to-morrow night.” “ Vera declares she will never marry.” ‘“Will you take mv bet?” “ Done!” “ And the furniture of the flat null ! help towards furnishing their home, j I ™ p j C ‘k a hint to marry her straight | to no more nonsense.” Cissie won her hat-.