LOVE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17569, 20 June 1925, Page 12

LOVE.

(By

H. TILLMAN.)

Augustus Brown stood with ’his 1 hand on the handle of the door. The j room whereat he appeared to be about to enter was known as the study. It was the Rev Bixon himself who decided on the name. It was his intention thus to convey to friends and members of the household that when he withdrew after dinner there, it was for the sole purpose of composing sermons and such, anil to keep the illusion going, he insisted on the family knocking and waiting for an answer before entering: it gave him a chance to wake up. Augustus’s knock was a modest one, and the Rev Bixon slept on. A sound closely resembling snores came through the keyhole, but Augustus was loyal enough to believe they might be coming from the pigsty at the- end of the manse garden. He was a conscientious man was Gus. The Rev Bixon prided himself on his unworldliness. He had three daughters, the eldest twenty. All were beautiful, but Beatrice was a plus model. To Bixon, however, his eldest girl was still a child. Other people thought differently. Suburban fathers, on receiving a smile from her, Jiad been known to buy garden seeds in the middle of winter, and as for young men, they sent for jewelry catalogues. We will return to Augustus at the door. lie knocked louder and louder, till at last he was bidden to enter. The Rev Bixon was busy writing. The clergyman rose and proffered a seat. He recognised the young man, as one of the great number who visited his home. He remembered his wife had told him tliis young man was after his Beatrice, and he had reproved her for it, and forbidden the subject to be mentioned again. “Beatrice is a child—a mere child. At twenty one does not love,” he said. Augustus took the edge of the seat, coughed twice, examined his lingers carefulh-, and then said:— ”1 love your • daughter—she—er—is—cr—in love with me. Wc want to get married.” The Rev Bixon smiled. It was the smile of superior wisdom. “You are wrong,” he said. “My daughter is not in love. She does not know what Jove is.” Augustus rose, bowed and left the room. He was as was said before, a conscientious man, was Augustus. He was also a graduate of the Maruia School of Salesmanship. Graduates of this school had been known to sell dredging scrip in Dunedin. The next night found Augustus back at the door. His first knock was louder this time. It had a more assured sound. Hi© Rev Bixon wok© and grabbed his pen. “Come in,” he called. Augustus took a seat opposite and drew a notebook from his pocket. °n stated last night,” he said, “that your daughter did not know what love was, and also that she was not in love with me. We will deal with the first part first: that she does not know what love is. After leaving you wc sat together, Beatrice and I, on the dark end of the verandah. She was on my knee from seven-thirty to nine-thirty-four. During that period she kissed me forty-seven times, and accepted in return fifty-eight of mine. We then had supper, and after which we said good-bye from ten o’clock to eleven sixteen. I received sixty-two and gave forty-nine.- She noticed that the exchange was not at par, charged me with not loving her sufficiently, so we continued the farewell to eleven-forty-five. I passed her total at eleven thirty-nine, and finished nine ahead, with a total of one hundred and sev-enty-one to her one hundred and sixtytwo.” Augustus closed the book, and eyed the father. The Rev Bixon made* no reply. He appeared dazed. “In regard to whether your daughter loves me,” continued Augustus. He opened his book again. “I have -five hundred shares in the Darwin ton Breweries, a similar number in the Maruia Motors. My salary is four hundred a 3'ear, with bonuses, and I have the use on Sundays and holidays of a Pantheon sedan car. All of these things Beatrice is aware of.” “And this—am I to infer from this —does this make Beatrice love you?” the father asked. Augustus leaned back in his chair and smiled confidently. “It's the cat's whiskers,” he said.