A WORD TO THE ENGAGED GIRL.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18012, 24 November 1926, Page 11

A WORD TO THE ENGAGED GIRL.

_ (By A WIFE.) Don’t take it for granted, dear modern engaged girl, that the laws of courtship have undergone as drastic a revolution as the laws of dress! Real he-men, between >’ou and me and the proverbial gate-post, remain very much the same sort of creatures as their pre-war prototypes, and require just as careful handling, for all this much vaunted new camaraderie between the sexes. Never believe, for instance, that they are any less prone to the all-persuasive factor of propinquity’ than they were in the bad old days! It is still possible for the girl on the spot to step in and purloin your “ catch ” while you’re fighting out the last set on the tennis court. Not to speak of those longer intervals when you may be paying a round of visits that entail some weeks of absence. bheer propinquity always was, is, and will be, the easiest part of the love-game for the girl in quest of someone else’s property. And if you love your man, don’t ever forget it! You may reason along the haughty', independent line that if he’s no more sure of his own mind than that, then you’re well rid Of him. But you know very well, in y'our heart of hearts, that y'Ou don’t want to be rid of him—-not the least little bit; and that privately and sceretly the haughty, independent business is just the temporary pose of injured pride. The wisest and shortest cut to happy security of tenure, so to speak, is to accept philosophically that age-old propinquity theory and admit that no girl is “ the only girl in the world ” if a clever enough poacher happens along. Strange though it may' seem, my dear, you stand a much surer chance of becoming “ the only woman in the world ” when you’re 'a prosy, muchmarried wife, than when you’re a romantic, just-betrothed young girl. This companionship business, you know, like life itself, is a habit! Hubby gets used to y'Ou; gets to believe, quite genuinely, that there’s no beefsteak pudding just like y'ours, and that no one has a lighter hand with pasty'. Does the dull picture rouse y’our romantic ire? Well. well. I can only’ assure you, my dear, that marriage lyorks out like that in the end. ’lt mayn’t be literally in terms of beefsteak pudding, but it’s everyday' domesticity all right. A comfy home, believe me, has still the old lure, more lasting than* the most effulgent moonlight that ever mocked a lover’s vows. If you still doubt my word, just | look around you till yOu see with 1 your own bright modern eves that the ] most enduring menages a deux, and the 1 cosiest and comfiest are those where j youth has jogged along in harness to serene if somewhat prosaic middle age. j It’s a good, hard-wearing sort of happiness, you know! And there are still lots of girls who will seize the chance of securing it—if you simply' hand it over to them by’ discounting the potency' of propinquity' while y r ou are just an engaged girl!