SHORT STORY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16923, 23 December 1922, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

THE ETERNAL FEMININE. A TALE OF SACRIFICE. i Written for the “Star” by Mrs E. Baizeen.) It was a pretty room, decorated with whiVh* Crea ?‘ e ? ,oured "'all pa per. up t'ZT cl,n ’ bcrl in Pint profusion. ,The arm V - cush,on ? «dged inviting! ' ede ; T rs > thelr garlanded oro- , ln Keeping with the wailnaoer ,iule amid a host of photograph of theatnca/ celebrities, boxes of cigar lor . o‘l^' llOCO !t teS j ° Stled carh °th« a place in the sun upon the OVerliuwded chimney-piece. A hat an' r at hastljy flung down on a sofa, and • lon- til tra ilinK its filmy length tint the moss-green carpet, indicated iped AH^rc^trr^ Sir Arthur Andrews, ushered into •ibouhhi servant —irl' looke | .1™ critically, as though seeking t > gather from it some impression or lts distress. Presently his eve was attracted by the chiffon scarf on the lavin\. : 'Pt d a he and picked it up , * * down carefully beside the. hat soundhf dld SO ' ,lc heard the ‘ i 1 f footsteps approaching, i hlr’hhh the door fl cw open to admit a tall, slim young woman who mowed with an easy grace. Sir Artlm doe'l’r f hPl ' thoughtfully, much as a fuel list may surrey his opponent, sin - up Ins chances against bin,. There ,' ~s 4 no gainsaying her beauty a 0,1 r • essentia? to her profession • an I'lrf.”" 1 ' Iteautv of line and'limb • mr than of colouring. She was pale ••mi- ha,r - anrl e that w ere l.low ' n’T b f"t ath t>lp straight, leye! B " hmd tlle footlights she would • ' , v ar> pear about seventeen. but "l r,K *. parching light of rlav Sir Ar twentr Udßed t 0 be fI, " T

-Miss Travers f” he said courteous-

s he replied. “ I’m Miss .raver s—Cora Travers of the Gaietv Dlrk Andr c"s's father, I sup.

Sir Arthur winced within himself at '' so , und of her speech. Her pro t'liele^V«°« n . W ' 9 ' pa ' s: ' ,,l «- enough, but lunation in "thi." r" i | t f Uablv common in intonation the ''gilt, pretty voire- an With the , t seemed nreconcilahle Ibat ‘ Jf thP n, °' ltb T ~ 1 arn Dick’s father, ’’ he answered simply.

W “* <bp ,rornan that his SO I Travel. Z "y, rrt ' . Hp regarded Miss • , ' steadily; e he returned his gaze ,rn ,a, nt amusement. “And T sup Jlw 5 * ' C Come to ask me to let him i'li. eh: she demanded ~‘‘ To 'c* him off?” repeated Sir Ar I'mr. rather mystified “Er w-W finite do you mean?”

" TVhv. yon don't want him to mar me. I suppose?**

Sir Arthur hesitated. Tim whole nlfh ? d jCcmeb so simple of accom. ph'hment when he had talked it over »I home, with Lady .Janet his w ife Hut here, face to fare with Ali", Tray ers. It Struck him that it was high I. improbable after all that she would consider any sum he could suggest a sufficient compensation for renouncing tne prospect of an excellent settlement in life as the wife of a future baronet with twenty thousand a year, fora Travers watched her visitor with 1 right. inquisitive eves, and he had a shrewd suspicion that his thoughts were an open book to her. At last he spoke gravelv. and to the point. “ Miss I ravers, T think it is best to be quite trank with you. Von are a woman of the world, and T'm sure it will come as no surprise to you when T say that a m.i.iiage between a ourself and my son A \«;uld he regarded by his family as little short of a calamity.” fora stared at him. Well, r must say you don’t wrap tilings up. ’ she vouchsafed •'.No," he answered, “I don’t wrap things up 1 here is nothing gained by uin such circumstances as these I have come here to make you an offer and I propose to make it," without any further beating about the bush I con spier you an unsuitable wife for my ‘ [ " hat "-ay?” broke in Cora de"ln every way,” he answered. “By bu-tli, and upbringing, by profession and —he paused—“ in character. At that she flamed into a storm of in ciignant abuse. He waited quite, trim qinllv until -he had finished, and then said gently : “ That is not very fair of you. Miss I ravers. You asked me to tell you. you knowy His answer checked her. ” y cs. I suppose J did,” she admitted grudgingly Sir Arthur smiled at her a winning smile, too. “I would withhold my sanction from the marriage, of course, ’ he further assured her Cora sniffed. lhat needn’t stop it,” she answered. “ Dick’s over age, and lias inde jMMident means.” “ Oh. so >ou have taken the trouble to ascertain that?” he threw in con temptuously. Slie flushed hotly, and scowled at him. •’Look here,” she said truculently. •• it you think you’re going to comhere and jump me out of my engage ment to Dick by that kind of talk, you’re jollv well mistaken. I’m not onto he frightened off any good thing bv a bit of sarcasm.” She paused for breath, and Sir Ar thur plunged in abruptly without fur ther preliminary. “ What will you take to release mv eon from his engagement to you?” he asked curtly In an instant ho saw tbs* h.c had made a mistake, rousing her to the extreme of opposition. With calculated effrontery she seated herself "u the arm of one of the chairs, and. helping her.-elf to a cigarette, lit it and puffed a oloud of impertinent smoke into the air.

You haven’t struck it lucky,” she observed succintly. There’s nothing you could offer m • i' return for giving Dick up that would erjunl what T’ll get. by marrying him Ail tlvA disapproval in the world can’t. *lop his becoming Sir Richard one day. and tne ‘ mv Indy ’ and though you n igh! keep him a trifle short of cash v. bile you hold the purse-string*, in th • lniijr run lie’s bound to have the lot. since it’s all entailed. And in th > meantime” with an impidi smile—” f .'e ld b-dn matters a bit hv remaining ‘T*! I suppu-o ojiq oi tho fain-

through the window fleckisg the silver ily fn the beauty chorus of a revuv would bo something new,’’ At the same time, you would onlv get the shell, and not the kernel,” reported Sir Arthur, “ ff Lady Janet and J declined to receive you, all our friends fpould follow suit. You would he entirely ostracised, So all you would succeed in doing would be to ruin Dick’ : life, and not Improve your own to any graat extent "

Cora had been listening attentively snd gradually the expression of lie” face changed. The hardness went out pf it, and a queer, frightened look toe f its place. Ruin Dick’s life?” she repeated f: T wouldn’t do that for anything. M alb? added.

Sir Arthur watched her ctlHouftlV: <l Of course you would ruin the boY’‘life,” he said, “but T suppose tliat doesn’t count with you. You don t care for Dick hinuelf: vou only want all that h €i stands for.” She turned him like a wounded tigress. “Care for him?” she cried out. springing to her feet. ** That s all .\o\» know. T’d marry him if he hadn't two pence to his name!” A little sigh of relief escaped Arthur. With blundering fingers he had been feeling blindly for the keynote of the situation—touching first monev, then position, in vain. But at last he had struck it. Other notes there might he in the chord, but the keynote was love; he was certain oi

“Then.” he said quietly, “if you care for him. give him up. ’ She did not answer, but stood there silently, like some gay-coloured flower beaten down hv a storm. Presently Sir Arthur drew a leather case from his pocket, and, opening it, laid it on the table beside her.

“• That is the girl he loved before you came into his life.” he said. She looked at. the case, but made no movement to take it »P- He waited in silence and after a. minute, as though compelled io it, her hand stole out. and she lifted the ease from the table and stared at the face it framed. Tt was a young face, with rnoe in every delicate line of it. and the eyes that' looked back at her held the clear, grave innocence lof a child. Coras eyes devoured it- “ I’m • r suppose I’m not like that,” she said in a. low voice. Love is a great humiliator. “No.” replied Sir Arthur simply, “ You are not like that.” He had a full measure of aristocratic arrogance, and did not choose to spare it. He took the photograph from her. gently, and, closing the ease, replaced it in Ins i i. TUoro a long silence, pocket. Iheie vas a Then : . , 9f , t _ <• What do you want me to do. she asked. ~ “ Send THek away from Y ou ‘ “ And supposing he won’t go i ’ Sir Arthur 'pulled out his pocket, bolk and withdrew from it a cheque,? which he laid in front of her. It was drawn to Miss Cora Travers, and vas for the sum of five thousand pounds “Don’t you think yon could persuade him to go- with that?” he said. For a moment she stared at lle cheque uncomprehending!?. Then, suddenly. the colour rushed into her tace, dyeing it scarlet. “I see” she said in a stifled voice. “Oh. yes; if if Hick think. . T™ taken five thousand for him, he II go, fast enough.” ~ , ~„ ~ Sir Arthur nodded. “ I thought so, he agreed. He was occupied in polishing his eyeglass; the lens had grown shria, falling defiantly: “After all. five thousands always five thousand, isn’t it ? “It is.” Sir Arthur agreed once more. The lens of his eyeglass t<quite clear now : all at once he found himself dry-eyed again. j WaS . dentlv true that there were other notes in the chord beside that of lot e. the note of self-interest was sounding quite loudly. He was puzzled, and a little disappointed. ~ “Good-bye. and thank you. “ So that's your valuation of me. is j t » Five thousand pounds! Dicks young face was white with anger. ' I wouldn’t have believed it of you, Cora ; not if my father had come and told me himself that you had agreed to 1 . 1 can't disbelieve this! And he picked up Sir Arthur’s cheque, holding it as though it were tainted with plague Oh, well." She said indifferently, “a woman in my position has got to look after herself! We'd have had precious little to rub along on it > aar people were going to dock your allowance the minute we got married, and five thousand’s not to be sneezed at Dick let the cheque flutter from m » fingers to the floor, and stared at her incredulously. Was this the women lie loved so much and hopeu above all things to make his wife, this laipy, who reckoned everything by pounds, shillings and pence ? . “Good God!” lie exclaimed. Am you’re the woman I ve been lovingworshipping'” He strode ur to hei and caught her by the shoulders Ive worshipped y.u, Cora, held you as high os heaven ” his voice shook- " and now I find you down in the dust count ing veur money.” He released her suddenly, so suddenly that she almost fell. “ I've never had much to count before,” she replied. -She made a dive and retrieved the cheque from the floor. ‘ And now .it you’ve nothing more to <=ay on the mat ter, you may as well go.

His hat and gloves lav on the table and he stretched out bis hand to pic! them up.

“ You you can give me a kiss befor you go.” she suggested, nonchalantly.

He turned and stared at her. “ Kiss you?” he said brutally. • What’s your price for a kiss?” A low cry broke from her, but he did not hear it He had gone, slamming the door behind him. For a few minutes after he had gon** she stood vcv still her month working. Presently she looked down at 1 ho cheque in her hand, and an odd. harsh little laugh broke from her. She smoothed it out very carefully, folded it. slipped it inti, an envelope, and addressed it to <k Sir Arthur Andrews. Carieton." When it was posted, she looked round the loom forlornly, like a child, and her eyes lighted on a dark grev glove that was King on the carpet. Dick must have let it fall as ho went away. With a choking cry. she snatched it up. and slipping, to her knees beside the table she held it lietwcon her hands, starin. at it hungrily. The pliant doeskin, creased and wrinkled here and there |Hire the impress of his hand ; a faint fragrance of tobacco came from it Cora’s head drooped loner and lower till her cheek rested at Inst against tli smooth softness of the glove. The morning sunshine streamed in

nn the break fast table with a hundred Bparks of light.

“ I said you would have no difficulty in arranging it.” observed Lady Janet complacently, as she poured out a cup of coffee “It’s always a matter of pounds, shillings and pence with that type of woman. I suppose she was quite satisfied to let Dick go> when you offered her the money?”

There was a curious expression in Sir Arthur’s eves as he made answer. “ ily dear. I did not have the im pertinence to ask if she were satisfied Even c that type of woman ’ is entitled to the privacy of her own soul.” As he spoke, his hand rested almost like a caress upon an opened envelope, from which protruded the corner of a cheque for five thousand pounds—a cheque that would never be cashed. The same day Dick, with his heart beating high for very joy. sought Cora out in her pretty, pink room. “Cora. Cora ! My darling ! I know ! Thank God I found out ! I saw the letter on the table when T came down to breakfast late. T think—l know my father must have left it there, with the chequ = half out of it ! I saw your writing- Oh mv beautiful, lovelv woman Hi held out his arms ” , . , “But why? he asked the happy girl afer a while—“ Why?” M “ I didn’t want to ruin you. dear, ’ she said, “ And you did the onlv thing in the wide world that could do so.” he “Oh.” she «aid. “T'm tired. Women are alwavs irrelevant when they are most lovable. “Rost, dev;.” said Dick, putting her head down again on his shoulder ever