A SHORT STORY.

Waipa Post, Volume VIII, Issue 373, 8 December 1914, Page 3

A SHORT STORY.

* (All Rights Reserved.)

By Alice Maud Meadows. Author of “One Life Between, ’ I Charge You Both,’' “The Eye of Fate,” “Days of Doubt,” “An Innocent Sinner,” etc.

In Three Parts. ON THE CLIFFS BY THE SEA.

PART 11. “I see,” he said; and he thought to himself that her definition of a lady housekeeper’s duties was rather highly coloured. He thought also that she seemed altogether too young to be housekeeper in a big house. lie wondered of how many the fam ily consisted. Whether it was a husband and wife and family, or simply —horrible thought! jealousy rose m his heart at once— bachelor or widower. Her granny would surely have too much sense to let so beautiful a girl accept a post like that! “Here is granny,” she said, and ran out of the room, then down the garden path. Clement watched her. An old woman had entered the garden gate, an old woman with a rosy face, bright dark eyes and a quantity of snow-white hair. Clement saw the beautiful girl run towards her, slip her hand through her arm, bring her to a standstill, then talk to her very earnestly. She was evidently urging something to which the elder woman was certainly very loth to agree, bat after a time she apparently got her own way, though the old woman shook her head in smiling protest as thev moved towards the farmhouse. “Mind, it’s a sacred promise,” Clement heard the girl say. “If you break it, granny, you know where you’ll go when you die. Not to sing among the cherubims, that’s a certainty.” “I’ve promised,” he heard the old woman return, “though I think it s foolish.”

“Well, it’s best to be a little foolish at odd times,” the girl returned. “It show's we have some remnant of youth left. I’ll go now and see if the poor man wants anything to eat. But of course he does. Restaurant cars are all very well, but give me a square meal under a roof and at a standstill.”

Clement decidedly did want a meal. He had taken something to eat in the train, but in consequence of the resturant car being somewhat crow r ded and very stuffy, had not enjoyed it, arid had eaten very little. Now he decidedly had a healthy appetite, and knew he could do justice to whatever w r as placed before him. Mrs. Polthorpe, who was to board her gentleman lodger, put before him a cold duck, a delicious salad, some cold apple sauce, stewed plums and clotted cream, new bread, fresh churned butter, and Cheddar cheese. “But I say,” he said, “are not you and your granddaughter going to sit down with me ? I—l quite thought the arrangement was that I should take my meals with the family.” • He had thought nothing of the sort until he had seen the granddaughter. Mrs. Polthorpe shook her head. “My gentlemen lodgers always have this room, and have their meals by themselves,” she answered. “It would not be at all convenient for things to be otherwise.”

“I shall be. rather lonesome,” Clem ent said.

“You’ll be out most of the day,” Mrs. Polthorpe returned, “and you can read at meals. In the evening, if you do not care to go out, to play patience is a great diversion.” “You play that alone, do you not?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, “with either one or two packs of cards. I myself plav with two. The game is more difficult and complicated, but the accompanying excitement fully compensates for the extra trouble.”

“But I don’t know how to play. 1 say,” a sudden happy thought striking him, “docs Miss Polthorpe know the game?” Mrs. Polthorpe looked puzzled, and repeated, “Miss Polthorpe?” “Yes, your granddaughter.” A quick flash, a look of anxiety, then a smile crossed Mrs. Polthorpe’s face. “Her name is not Polthorpe,” she said, “it’s Strangeways.”

“Oh, I sec, your side of the family Well, docs she play?” “I believe she docs.”

“Well, ask her if she will teach me, if she will please put it down in th; bill. I-I couldn’t expect her to spend her time for nothing. And there are often little things a girl wants to buy for herself, ribbons and belts and—and chocolates. I should really take it ever so kindly 'if Miss Strangeways would come in every evening for an hour or two and tench me patience. 1 daresay I could learn in a month or two.”

“I learnt in one evening;,” Mrs. Polthorpc said: ‘‘but, of course, some folkare slow. However, I’ll put it to my granddaughter.” ‘‘That’s a dear, good soul.” Clement said, and fell to on the duck, his spirits quite as good ns his appetite. Two easels stood side by side on the edge of the cliff. Two yomvr neoplof opposite sexes were very hard and very earnestly at work. The man was achieving splendid results. The girl’s picture Md fair not to turn out a masterpiece. But. to he sure, before Clement Sterling had put in an appearance at Pollhorpe she had never tried to paint from Nature. Clement, however, had said he was sure she had

latent talent; he could*tell it from the shape of her hands—long, taper fingers and filbert nails—and from the expression of her violet eyes (he had looked at them often and long enough to be A authority), and as the girl was nothing loth to have a little break in the monotony of her life, she had readily consented to try.

He had discovered that her name was Mona, that she had neither father nor mother, and was taking a holiday at her grandmother’s. When she would return to her duties, whatever they were, at Cheltenham, he did not know. He hoped with all his heart and soul it would not be before he returned to Sown.

, They had become fast friends; so much so that he told himself he was having the time of his life, though sometimes he had serious misgivings as to the wisdom of his actions. He was a member of the Upper Ten, a very wealthy Baronet into the bargain, and an artist of no little talent. She, well educated, refined as she was, was only the granddaughter of a farmer, and a sort of housekeeper to heaven alone knew who at Cheltenham. Every evening she did her best to teach him patience; but somehow he could not learn, and she was sorely tried at times that in desperation she would rise from the table, open the piano, and dash off some wild Hungarian dance, or perhaps wander into the realms of Greig or Mendelssohn.

And she played wonderfully well. So well, indeed, that Clement, who was something of a musician himself, had told her that he wondered she did not give up housekeeping and take up music as a profession; but she had only laughed, and said she was quite satisfied with her present position anc employment.

Then they had discovered that they both sang out-of-the-way well. Her voice a good, well-trained soprano; his an equally well-trained, robust baritone. After that they sang duets together every evening. Scant time was given to patience, and Mrs. Polthorpe began to look anxious. , As they sat silently painting, glancing now and then at one another, and exchanging a smile, they were transferring to their canvases quite differ ent views, though both consisted of rocks, birds, sea, and the setting sun in the distance illuminating and colouring all. It would never' have done, as Clement had said, for them both to have taken the same view, because their pictures might have clashed when both were hung at the Royal Academy. At which the girl had laughed very heartily.

“I wish you would come and look at this rock,” Mona called out. “It looks much more like a crocodile paddling than anything else.” Clement rose with alacrity, and hurried to the girl’s side, then leant on her shoulder, gazing at the canvas critically for quite a long while. “You’ve got the thing altogether too low,” he said. “Let me see what I can do. The slightest alteration will do. No, don’t move. I can manage quite well. Give me Vour brushes.”

She let him take them from her, and he leant over her shoulder, making quick, dexterous strokes, that made the crocodile rise as by magic, and metamorphosed it into a very realistic rock.

He was in no hurry to finish. In his left hand he held the palette, but his right arm was across her shoulder, and once or twice as he changed his brush and the colour he was using, his hand brushed her cheek. It made his brain in "a whirl for a moment, his heart beat in great throbs, the perfume of her hair, faint, subtle, half intoxicated him.

Perhaps her heart was beating rather rapidly also. When she looked round the colour in her cheeks had deepened. “That is splendid,” she said. “Who would have thought so little could have achieved so much. You are a great artist, Mr. Sterling.” * She held out her hand for her brushes and palette, and he relinquished them reluctantly. “Not yet,” he answered. “But yes, I think I hope to be. I used not to be so very keen about it, so long as I achieved something like success. Now I think I am growing ’ambitious.”

“Then you will be rich and famous will vou not?”

He flashed a keen glance at her. “Perhaps,”- he answejred. “I wonder, Miss Mona, whether you would care for riches?”

She shrugged her beautiful shoulders. “Oh, I suppose riches have their use, and give much to poor humanity, but I have never wished for more money than I have already. I have quite as much as I care for.” “You must be moderate fin your desires, or—or”-—lie, turned .rather pale —“those who hayc the benefit of youi time and talents, at Cheltenham must be very generous.” She laughed • brightly. "I | assure you I am perfectly satisfied witfj,everything at Cheltenham,” she |reftdrned. “And it’;* a beautiful part of the country. You have never been there?” “Never; but I will if I may.” “Of course you may..” “I mean, if I may come to see .you.” (To he Continued.)

Cliolly (handling his friend’s - revolver gingerly): “I stippose, now, if this should go off while I’m holding, it like this it would blow my brains, outt?” His Friend: “No, it wouldn’t do tlitfit, but it would bore a bole clean -through vour head.’’ i Our illusions fall one after, the'o'thei like the parings of fruit; tbje fruit is experience; its savour, may bet .bitter, still it contains /something' \ -that strengthens. * •