MOLLY’S MATCH.

Waipawa Mail, Volume XXVIII, Issue 5245, 11 April 1908, Page 5 (Supplement)

MOLLY’S MATCH.

A SOCIETY STORY. { "I think,” said Molly viciously, "plain women ought to know their place.” "Which is?” I asked. "Which is that it is absurd, simply horribly, slckeningly absurd to , put on airs and graces.” "You think, then, that pretty women, yourself included, are to have all the fun, and that the plain women ought to gratefully accept the position of maiden aunt?” Molly shrugged her shoulders. " I don’t count myself as particularly pretty, even though I know I’m not plain, but ” “But you would not allow anyone else to say that, or, rather, think it.” Molly went on as if I had not spoken: "But at least I have style; even you can’t deny that, and you are always running me down and sitting on me.” "I would not attempt to deny it. No one but a girl with style would wear such extraordinary hats as you do.” Molly smiled contentedly. "They don’t look extraordinary when they are on.” "No, that is the marvellous part of it. Because, as you say, you have that subtle gift of style.” "That blue one,” mused Molly. “The blue one is certainly a success; but do let us go back to plain women. Has Gertrude Hayes been flirting with Archie?” “Flirting! Merciful heavens!” “Well, engaging his attention with the airs and graces that you think so unbecoming to her.”

“Her waist is twenty-nine inches, and she has a red nose. She thinks powder immoral, and, of course, it would be on her; she’d powder the points of her face, and leave arid desert expanses of redbrown skin stretching away for miles to her ears and collar.”

“Well, she doesn’t powder, so at least forgive her for that. Does Archie like her?”

“Men are such perfect idiots. If women flatter them the weest bit they just fall down and worship them.” “Archie apparently does like her, then?”

“He’s as blind as a bat. Of course, the girl isn’t a rap interested in artesian wells —how could she be?—but she sat with her head on one side, giving squeaks of interest every five minutes by the c-.oek, Archie pounded away at wells. The wells at Warong, the wells at Gundeberg, the wells at Whoronby it was enough to make a cat laugh.” "But the cat was angry.”

“Angry! I’m sure I’m not; but the whole thing was too transparent and idiotic, and I think it is sickening to see a girl playing up to a man that way.” “I remember seeing you listen with a rapt expression to Captain Beauregard while he explained something abstruse about torpedoes.”

“That was absolutely different.” Molly’s tone was full of haughty contempt. “I had to be polite, and I wanted to show him Australian girls had manners, and sense, and did not want to flirt every minute of the day.” “And were you interested in torpedoes?”

“Of course not; I did not listen to a word he said. I was thinking out a new blouse. There was an American girl just in front of us, who had the sweetest one, and it gave me an idea.” “The torpedoes seem to me on a par with the wells.”

“Absolutely different. One was mere politeness the other mere pitiful vanity, and lack of dignity and stupidity. Of course, Archie would never really care for a woman like that. I’m going out with him this afternoon. He has promised me a new brooch, and we are going to look at some in Bond street : and if we don’t like them there, there’s a wonderful secondhand shop down in Kensington.”

“What would you do if you had been born plain?” “I wouldn’t have been.” Molly spoke with quiet confidence.

“But you might have had to be.” “No.” She shook her head. “Look at Miss Van Fordes. She has an absurd nose, small eyes, no complexion, and an ugly figure. Would you dare call her plain? Certainly not. Her clothes are exquisite. She puts them on exquisitely. She carries herself with that dainty, impertinent air that is so fascinating. She has cultivated a charming manner. She is one of the smartest girls I ever met. No, when a woman’s plain like Gertrude Hayes, it is because she has a plain nature—no imagination, no ideals, no poetry—my dear, she wears pink flannelette!”

The maid entered with some letters. “One for you, Molly, from Archie.”

Molly opened it, flushed, her lips set m a firm line. Then she looked across at me anfl laughed. “There’s going to be some fighting, with Archie as the prize. Listen, this is what he says:

“ ‘Sweetheart,—l know you'll not mind my not turning up to-day, but I’ve promised to take Miss Hayes to the British Museum. She is awfully lonely here in London, and she wants to see the Rosetta stone. It would bore you horribly, I know.—Yours for ever,

ARCHIE.’ ” “Are you going to the Museum?” 1 asked.

“No, dear.” Molly’s tone was soft and sweet. “I’m going to dress in my new grey dress and furs, and going to tea at Prince’s with Captain Beauregard.”—F. F. Elmes, “The British-Australasian.”