WHEN FATE STEPPED OUT

Ladies' Mirror, Volume 2, Issue 8, 1 February 1924, Page 53

WHEN FATE STEPPED OUT

by ROBERT A. STEWART, Wellington, N.Z.

‘* A H!” sighed Bobby Pollocks. I threw a book at him, striking him fair on the nose. I can throw fairly straight sometimes. “Ah!” he sighed again, falling into a cozy armchair facing the window, his hands clasped in front and arms extended at full length. He repeated the sigh for a third time. I lifted a paper-weight from the table against which I was leaning, intending to throw it also at my companion, but refrained just in time. There is no discouraging a chappie who is in love and well on the way to his doom. “She’s a peach, don’t you think, Jim —boy?” “Yes, a green ’un.” “No; but, really, don’t you think she’s a real nice girl? Give me your frank opinion; don’t rag.” “Well, Bob, she’d be all right if she didn’t interfere with my domestic life so much. What I mean is, it’d be all squeegee if you didn’t go ‘ah’-ing all day and asking me my frank opinion of her every five minutes of the day; besides, isn’t she engaged to that chap Wooton. You wouldn’t stand a ghost of a chance with him there.” “That blighter. Why he’s not fit to ” “Wooton’s a jolly decent chap.” “Decent!” exclaimed Bobby in a tone of fervid disgust. “Why, there isn’t a greasy, wall-eyed, knock-kneed mug in the world that he’s fit to blacken the boots of. Look at his face; it seems as if a twelve-ton roller had played on it for half an hour. And his ” “'Here, hold on. There’s a libel law.” “Shut up. And take the way he dresses; he’s a bally qu ” “It doesn’t matter what you may call him, he’s engaged to Miss Morisson all the same.” “Yes; but do you think that he’ll stay engaged to her for long? Why, anyone can see that he wasn’t intended for her. Now, I honestly believe that I was, because we’re affinities. It sticks itself out in everything that we do. What is her golf handicap, I ask you?” “I don’t know. About two hundred not out, eh?” “Don’t be funny. Of course it’s not, it’s a nice small one —30. The green-keeper told me. And so is mine, or at least it will be by next season, when I have unproved my stroke and got rid of that slice. So you must admit that a chap like that son of a sea cook called Wooton doesn’t stand an earthly when her real soul-mate is beside her.” “Whoa. What’s that word you just said?” “Which one?” “The ‘matey’ one.” “Oh. You mean soul-mate?” “That’s it. Is that what you are?” “Yes.” “Oh my ” I burst out laughing. “You can well afford to laugh. But just you wait. Time will show. For it was Fate that brought us together and Can’t you stop that idiotic laughter?” “Fate.” I could hardly stop from crying aloud with laughter; but it always is the same -when a man is in love. Fate, the mystic, always comes along and sees that the right man is introduced to the right girl, who is always so different; at least that is what the chappie believes until a few months of married bliss have passed, after which time he begins to call Fate by an entirely different name. Bobby was just the same as they all are, and though I must say that Aline Morissonfor such was the name of the object of his so deep affection —Avas exceedingly pretty and charming, she was hardly, in my opinion, a girl to be classed as the “soul-mate” to Robert Pollocks. Besides, he had knoAvn the girl for one week only, and his entire conversation with her during the Avhole of that short period had been a throaty gurgle, Avhich when properly interpreted meant “very pleased to meet you.” It was, therefore, no Avonder that I laughed at Bobby, Avho had with a withering glance of supreme contempt risen from the chair and moved in the direction of the AvindoAv, staring at the street beloAv. “You know such a lot about these things, don’t you?” he said scornfully. I ceased laughing and smiled instead. “Well, look here, I bet you a fiver — a tennerthat you won’twill, I —find me engaged to Aline Miss Morisson, I mean — the month’s end.” “I don’t rob babies.” “Funk, eh? It shows that you knoAV I’m her ” “For the love of Mike, don’t say soul-mate.” “Well, what shall I say?” “Nothing. Just keep quiet.” “Then you won’t take the bet.” “I will, but we’ll make it a penny. I don’t want to rob you.”

-Bobby, who had been staring out of the window at the street during the whole of the latter half of the conversation, deigned not to reply, but with a dexterous pivot he swung round, grabbed his hat from the table against which I had been leaning, and burst out of the door. The whole operation took him about a second. At first I was amazed, wondering what had come over my friend, but I soon saw, on looking out of the window, the reason for his haste. Aline Morisson was walking slowly along the footpath on the far side of the road, unaccompanied, quite an unusual occurrence, by Mr. Henry Wooton, his place by her side being filled by a small Pomeranian dog. She passed out of my sight. Then it was that I had time to sum up the real state of affairs as they had been going on. Miss Morisson had most certainly been looking up in this direction as she had been walking past, and it was more than probable that when Bobby said more than a gurgle to her she might possibly come to like him. For Bobby was a great lover, and had, I think, more girl friends than anyone else I knew, and, what is more, he possessed a great personality. One couldn’t help but like him. I left the matter ,at that, for there was a pile of work on the table that was shrieking out to be done. An hour and a-half or perhaps two hours later there came a big noise outside my door, and, as 1 leaped up to discover, if I could, what was causing it, the door itself opened, and in burst a round, red figure. It was Bobby, happy as a lark. . “What’s all the row about?” I asked sharply. “Row? I just came upstairs quickly.” “Well, for, the love of Mike, don’t come up quickly any more. You’re worse than a baby elephant. Anyway, what do you want to hurry for? No need.” “I wanted to tell you something.” “What is it?” “Oh —nothing. At least it is something to a person with any intelligence, to a person who understands. What I mean is—oh, you’ll only laugh if I tell you.” “I know what it is. You have just been for a walk with Miss Morisson.” “Who the devil told you?” “It takes a person like me to find those things out, a chappie with more than the average intelligence. Nobody told me, of course. I just deducted that you had been for a walk with her. Why—l ask myself, does little Robert-how did you enjoy yourself?” “Spiff. We went for a walk, a long one, out as far as the Cliff and back again. Wooton wasn’t with her, she had a dog instead. Didn’t I tell you that she’d soon get sick of that wart. Wooton, the wart; jolly good name for him.” “What did you gas about all the time?” “Dunno. I think she did all the talking.” “Well, you’re some lover. You go out with a girl all the afternoon, and don’t listen to anything she says.” “It’s not that. I’d have listened to her all right, only—well, you should see her face. And— oh, nothing.” Bobby gave a deep blush, giving a beautiful imitation of a halfcooked lobster.

“What did you do to make you go sky blue pink?” I asked him. “Did you kiss her?” A shocked expression of deepest horror crept over Bobby’s face. “Don’t be disgusting. I hope you don’t imagine she’s that sort of a girl. Why, I’ve only known her a week. At least,” he added as an afterthought, “that is, on this earth. For I feel certain that we have met somewhere before, thousands of years ago. When she was an Egyptian princess and I her native slave.” “What? I say, Bob, I know what’s wrong with you, you’re not in love, you’re going balmy.” “No; I didn’t think you’d understand. I know what’s wrong with you, too —you haven’t got any imagination.” “Perhaps you’re right, because you seem to have a double share. Anyway, joking aside — 1 was trying to be funny—what did you do, if you didn’t give her a kiss, to make you turn such an awful colour at the very thought of it ?” “Wellohyou’d only laugh.” “As I explained before, I’m as free from laughter as an eggl won’t finish it, the egg’s stale.” “Wellerwell.” Bobby cleared his throat, ready for action. “We were walking along Brigg’s Break when she—well, you see, it was like this. I said to her no, I’m blowed if I didl think she —no, I remember, I asked her do you understand?” “Yes, perfectly. What are you talking about?” “Well, it’s like this; we were walking along the Break ” “As you said before.” “On the way home.” “Yes, lots of things have been done on Brigg’s Break on the way home. Go on.” “And she said that she was getting tired.” “So you sat down on the side of the road and——” “We did nothing of the sort. Well, when she said that she felt tired I asked her could I hold her hand. Bo she said ‘yes.’ “Yes, go on.” “That’s all.” “All? You must have missed something out.” “No, I didn’t.” “Was all you did —just to hold her hand? Why, that’s nothing.” “Isn’t it? I tell you it is. It just shows that you don’t know how hard it is to hold on to a real girl’s hand. Especially when the girl is like—— Aline.” “Miss Morisson. Don’t get fresh because she’s let you hold her hand, now.” “Aline. She told me I could call her that.” “Oh!” “And do you think that a beautiful girl like that would let an ordinary man, like you or Wooton, hold her hand. Not in your lifetime. It was just because she knew that I was intended for her that she let me do it. Fate has decreed it.” “See what his public school education has done for him,” I said mockingly. “Can’t you be sensible?” “Not with you around.”

“Besides, I know that she’s tired of Wooton. Of course, it’s quite the natural thing for her to do as soon as she has met her mate, her affinity. Now, just for example, to-day, when ” Bobby gave a sigh of despair, mingled slightly with a little happiness, as he glanced at me. With a steady step he moved into the armchair in which he had been seated about two hours before, and once more he gazed out of the window. Night was gradually setting in, and a few of the brighter stars began to appear. Suddenly from out of the semidarkness came a clanking noise; it was the dinner gong. I looked over at Bobby, who was still engaged in staring out of the window, apparently at no particular object. “Coming down to dinner?” I asked politely. “Eh?” “Deaf,” I said impolitely. “Coming to be fed “Ah-h.” Then with a sudden jerk he roused himself. “No, thanks, I won’t have any tea. I say, it’ll be pretty rotten with Aline in Sy No, I don’t feel a bit like tea, thanks.” I gave a sigh of despair. When a chappie gets it —love, I mean — bad that he doesn’t like having the best meal of the day, not that even the best is very good at our place, well the only thing left for him is a straight-jacket. I left the room noiselessly, leaving Bobby still in his coma. No sooner had I reached the dining-room door than I was accosted by Mrs. Joy, the landlady. “Mr. Creiff,” she said to me sternly, “you have been keeping dinner waiting five minutes. Where is Mr. Pollocks ? I suppose he will be another five minutes.” “No; he isn’t having dinner.” “Oh! Is he dining out?” “No he just doesn’t want any.” “Oh, dear. So the meals I give his ’ighness don’t soot. Well, if my humble efforts do not satisfy him, I would be pleased if he would go elsewhere. Not having his djinner—the idea of it. Do you think ” It has often puzzled me why we stay with Mrs. Joy. Of course, she has only been our landlady for a month, for Mrs. Knight, the previous proprietress, had just recently retired. We had lived with her for two years, and during that period had simply grown on to our three rooms, with the result that we could hardly bear to part from them, I suppose. I managed to wade through the meal somehow or other, and was soon back in the living-room again. I might also explain that Bobby and I rent a suite of three rooms in Adelphi Street, we sleeping in a separate room each and using the remaining room to live in. The light had not yet been turned on, and the place was pitch dark inside. I switched on the light at the door, and saw Bobby in precisely the same position I had left him in before dinner. “What’s up?” I asked, worriedly, for I hated to see Bobby act in such an unusual manner. “Nothing,” he sighed. “But there must be something,” I went on. “Well, Jim,” replied Bobby. “I think that I’ll leave this place. It’s all right for a man like you; in fact, I’d call it the ideal spot, but for a man with imagination— he needs something beautiful, something inspiring near him to help him to survive decently. Besides, Fate cannot act unless the object endeavours to help himself along, too.” “Still on Fate.” “Besides, Aline told me she is going away Sydney or somewhere and I must have her beside me or else do something drastic. Now, to go to Australia costs money, which necessity I don’t possess. I say, Jim, can you lend me £IOO “Can I what?” “Lend me £2OO “I heard you the first time. What on earth can you possibly want all that money for?” “To pay for the honeymoon trip with, of course.” “What? Who are you marrying?” “Who do you think ? Aline, of course you don’t suppose that there is anyone else in the world I’d marry, do you?” “Going to marry her? When did you propose to her? That’s one of the things you did this afternoon that you didn’t tell me.” “I haven’t proposed to her yet; you can’t do these things all at once. Of course, I’m going to marry her, but these things take time. So in Sydney I’ll need all the money possible to tide me through. After all, £IOO isn’t much.” “Not much; no, not at all.” “Here, those Tatt’s tickets came to-day; I’ll give you mine for £IOO, that’s fair; most likely you’ll make £IO,OOO out of it. Think of what I’m giving you.” “You are kind. I don’t want your ticketnot that it’s any use; never believed in them myself I’ll let you have £IOO on one condition. If you marry Aline you keep the money as a wedding present. If you don’t marry her you pay me back £I,OOO in ten years. My second name’s Profit.”

“Jim, you’re a sport.” The only piece of praise I ever got in my life. The following Thursday Bobby left for Sydney on the “Manama.” It was perhaps six months later that I met Bobby again. He had not written to me once during his absence, and so you can imagine how pleased I was when he entered my room in Adelphi Street. “Welcome, stranger,” I cried joyously. “How’s the wife?” I thought I had him cornered. “Oh, Al, old chap. Come over and see us one day. Soon as you like.” “Right. I shall. What about Tuesday?” “Fine. And here’s some money I owe you.” He brought out an envelope and gave it to me. “No, I wouldn’t think of it; I don’t want the money. Wedding present, you know.” “It’s no present to me take it and shut up.” He pressed it back into my hand and, like a sensible man, I kept hold of it. I opened the envelope once he was out of the door, and counted the money. There were ten crisp notes inside, and I was puzzled why he gave me so much money, unless he thought that he really owed me the stuff. Tuesday soon came. We renewed acquaintances for a few minutes, and then I said: “You know I’m beginning to believe that there is something in this soul-mate and Fate business, after all.” “Don’t you kid yourself, Jim. There’s no such thing.” “What? Why, I’d think you would be the very first one to agree with me.” “I tell you there’s nothing in it.” There came a knock at the door. “Ah, here’s my wife, I must introduce you.” “It’s all right, old chappie I know her.” “Well, by all that’s holy. You know her, too?” At that moment a dainty young woman of twenty-three entered the room. Bobby jumped up. I rose slowly. “I say, Rose,” he said quickly and eagerly, “I didn’t know you knew Jim, too. Well I ” “Who is Jim, dear?” “What’s that? I say ” “Bob,” I said, utterly perplexed, “there is some mistake.” “That doesn’t need telling.” “Where’s Aline ?” “Who?” cried the little woman. A look from Jim bid me to be quiet. For myself, I was all in the soup. Who was the woman Rose? Who —a heap of unanswered questions surged through my mind. I blushed. “I’m afraid there is some mistake,” I somehow managed to stutter out. How I passed the rest of that afternoon I don’t know, and it was not until a week later that I learned from Bobby that Aline Morisson had wedded Henry Wooton during their first week in Sydney, and that Bobby had married a certain Rose La Blanche the day he made £IO,OOO at Tatts. Then I knew the reason why he gave me ten £IOO notes on the day I first met him on his return from Sydney.