CASE OF DISCERNMENT.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIX, Issue XIX, 30 October 1897, Page 601

CASE OF DISCERNMENT.

Hunter sat over the tire in his rooms, smoking and thinking; smoking rather discontentedly, and thinking, quite impartially, of two women. And tne impartiality was the trouble. If he could have felt a preference, or if it had been only one woman, matters would have l>een so simple. But there were two, and both were charming exponents of their respec tive types. Grace Firth was perhaps the more obvious of the two ; Dorothy Dallas, on the other hand, possessed three subtler charms which gave you a nice respect for your own powers of observation. It was a comfort, at any rate, that he had not compromised himself so far with either. Not in the least. In fact, he would probably have remained in tire comfortable, quiescent state of friendship if jieople had only left him alone. But it seemed to him that all things had been conspiring against his bacherlorhood of late. Hrs mother, Lady Hunter , had written tedious letters about the estate and responsibilities. Then Thornton had lieen in to see him this afternoon : and Thornton, just back from his honeymoon, and radiating matrimonial bliss, was enough to disturb the most rooted of bachelors. Also, he had just remembered Salter’s case, which had led to reflections. Salter had gone, rigid with self-control, to say good -by to Miss Fenwick before his deSarture for the Soudan, and she had broken own at the last minute, nearly kissed him, and made a scene in which he quite kissed her. Hunter was leaving England in about ten days. How would it be if he kept his destination and the term of his absence vague—he was really going to Italy for six weeks —and make his good-bys as a sort of test ’ This might greatly influence his indecision. He had so often read that love creates love. Not that he wished to get definitely engaged just at present. Not at all. That would interfere with Italy and be altogether inconvenient. But it would be amusing to know how matters stood, and the knowledge would enable him to make up his mind slowly and carefully during his absence. Why not do the thing at once * What was to-day ’ Tuesday, Mrs Dallas’ ‘at home ’ day. He would be certain of finding Dorothy. He glanced at his watch ; quarter to 6. A hansom would get him to Cumberland place by six o’clock. If there were other visitors they would lie leaving, and he would get his chance. He knocked out his pipe, jumped up with the energy of resolve, passed through his exquisite sitting room to the exquisite bedroom beyond clicked on the electric light and took trouble with his appearance. Two carriages drove away from the house in Cumberland place as he drove up. There were still one or two visitors in the drawing-room, but it already had an atmosphere of decayed gaiety ; close air, disarranged chairs, used cups everywhere. Mrs Dallas greeted him with an over fatigued smile. Dorothy was sitting 1 >etween two parasitic girl friends. When Hunter shook hands with her she looked to the height of his scarf pin, and immediately resumed her talk with the girls. Mrs Dallas talked to Hunter with a little confidential air which she did not spend on everybody. He was an old friend ; and really a young man with an income nowadays— Through her long sentences he caught snatches of the girls’ talk : ‘ Pale blue,’ ‘ ridiculously expensive, I think,’ ‘ too much jet,’ ‘the Barings’ dance,’ ‘all put on,’ etc. At last they left in a cloud of appointments. Mrs Dallas muttered something about letters, and went upstairs. When Hunter hail closed the door after her and turned round, Dorothy was warming her hands at the sinking fire with an air of conscious unconsciousness. If only her mother wouldn’t do those painfully obvious things ! ‘ Have you had tea, by the way ?’ she asked directly. ‘ N’ary a cup,’ said Hunter. ‘ Stay me with tea, comfort me with talk—l shall enjoy both.’ She got up and poured out some (toisoiious dregs. She was not looking her best, he thought. She was very variable. He had seen her look almost plain—once, he remembered, when she was talking to an aunt from Australia, and once when she had told him of the death of a friend. But he had also seen her look exquisite, with a spiritual, emotional lieauty that made more diffident people afraid of her. She stooped a little, bookishly, and wore sentimental things by preference. ‘ You’ve missed several friends this afternoon,’ she was saying. ‘ “ Tant niienx.” ’ • For whom ’’ ‘ For me. I came on purpose to tall, to you to-day.’ Her eyelids fluttered imperceptibly. ‘ We’re never alone on Tuesdays, you know,’ with a slight emphasis on the we. ‘On the other hand, I’m sure of finding you then. No sugar, thanks. I’ve come to bid you a rather long farewell. ’

She went back to the fire ami stooped low over it.

‘ Going away »’ she asked, brightly. He followed her to the fireplace, cup in hand, and took the chair nearest to which she knelt.

* Yes; the spirit of travel is upon me again. And London is too trist for a bachelor in the winter.’ * Going to Paris again ? Wasn’t it Paris you went to the other day, or the other month, or something ’’ she said, without looking around. * Yes, but I'm bound for more distant climes this time. I think of going in Cook’s office and asking for a ticket to the furthest point from civilisation. Perhaps I shall return whiteheaded and incoherent in a hundred years, a la Kip.’ She laughed a completely new laugh and rubbed her hands together. * Well, I hope you'll enjoy it immensely ; and please come and see us in the Kip condition when you return —if ever.’ ‘ Of course. ’ There was a pause. He wished she would turn her face to the light, but the voice boded no compliment to his vanity. It was particularly cheerful. He stroked his admirable moustache. She curled the eml of her riblion around her forefinger. Hunter reflected that she had always been just a little difficult, conversationally, even during that charming summer at Pontresina, two years ago, when he had found himself obliged, for conscience sake, to check the course of a Platonic friendship he had been at some pains to create. A large Persian cat that had been asleep in its basket till now, suddenly remembered the world, and came back to it with a long stretch. Dorothy caught it up in her arms and surprised and annoyed it with a torrent of affection. ‘ Do you think that mass of wool appreciates all that ?’ asked Hunter, rather peevishly. ‘ One can only hope so,’ said Dorothy. ‘ I believe in the stupidity of cats.’ This reminded him of a good eat story ami he told it well. It launched them into ordinary conversation, where they laboured more or less for the next twenty minutes. At the end of that time he came around to his journey again. * When do you start ?’ she asked. ‘ Soon, in a few days,’ he answered seriously. ‘ All alone, or with Dick again ?’ ‘ Alone. My companionship, you see, is not a frenzied demand. I shan’t even have the comfort of leaving a few broken—or even chipjied—hearts behind me, I fear.’ She should have her opportunities. She only gave a short laugh. ‘ Monsieur ne se tlatte pas,’she said, with a little mock bow. It brought the light on her face at last, and he saw one of her plainest renderings of herself. She was pale, with hard lines aliout the mouth. ‘ Well,’ he said, rising ami holding out his hand, ‘you are tired, and 1 am busy. I must say my good-bys now. Good-by till—l don't know when. Wish me well.' ‘Of course,’she said promptly. ‘I—I do wish you well, and —good-bye.’ He paused a moment at the door. He made a gesture of impatience and went. She stood quite still for awhile. When the front door banged she made a little low sound in her throat and put her hands over her face. Later a servant came in to remove the tea things. Dorothy had not moved. But she went upstairs then to dress for a dinner in South Kensington. ‘ My dear child,’ said Mi's Dallas, in the hall, as they were starting, ‘you look like your grandmother to-night. Most provoking !’ Hunter, walking briskly homeward, was saying to himself : ‘ Well, that's one point settled. These small, pale women nave no Idiasl in their veins.’

On the following evening Hunter stopped at Strudwick’s on his way to Trevelyan s' ‘At Home,’ and got tulieroses for his buttonhole. Tulierose was Miss Firth's favourite scent, if he renieinliered aright. He arrived late (he never made Isiurgeois mistakes), and the rooms were already packed. The.sulxlued society roar reached the hall. Grace Firth was there, as he had anticipated. When he first caught sight of her through the crowd she was talking to a sallow man with a foreign accent. Now and then she laughed consciously, and Hunter was glad to note that this annoyed him a little. What was that two penny organ grinder saving to her ’

Animated and handsome and picturesque she looked, as usual. Her figure was superb, her eyes decorative, her smile generous. She had realised Hunter's presence at once, but made no sign. He placed himself where he could see and lie seen by her, and waited, speaking to such of his acquaintances as were crushed past him from time to time. Presently Miss Firth rose, threw oil'her companion with the airy ease that is one of the finest products of civilisation, and mad e

for the door. She had to pasx dose to where he stood. He joined her at once. ‘ Whither away, Miss Firth?’ * Oil, how do you do? I hadn’t seen you. I was withering away for my chaperone. I can't struggle any longer with Monsieur Ihibee’s English shot with French. * Will I do instead of him and instead of your chaperone ? * I had harboured thoughts of going. It’s late and hot. But—’ ‘ But you’ll harbour them no more. That is kind.’ He gave her his arm. ‘ Mrs Firth is enjoying herself immensely. Depend upon it.’ ‘ I’m here with Mrs Hardinge to-night.’

She nodded her head in the direction of a young married woman in yellow satin talking to three "men. Mrs Hardinge always enjoys herself immensely,’ he said. ‘ Where are we going ?’ ‘ To that seat on the landing for a little while, and a little air, if you will. ‘ Yes, I will.’ She had sulslued her voice in talking to Hunter. As a rule it was a shade too high and staccato. He observed this; also, that she made no more allusions to departure. But he did not notice the symptoms of suppressed amusement that struggled in her face as she left the room with him. When he looked at her again, in fact, her eyelids were heavily drooped. She raised them slowly, with a look of fatigued gratitude, as she leaned back against the cushions on the landing seat. He heard her sigh. ‘ This is better, isn’t it ?’ he said.

‘ Much lietter.’ She sighed again. ‘ And what have you lieen doing since I last saw you—at the Richter ?’ he asked.

He had last seen her at the Thompsons, but she let that pass. ‘ Oh, so much—and so little,’ she said, world wearily.

This new touch of sadness was not “dans son ” type. What did it mean ? It made it a little difficult to talk the nsual trifles. He knew that she must feel this, too, when she began to ask him about himself. ‘ And yon ?’ she said. ‘ What have you been doing ? Tell me something very interesting.’ He took the question seriously, and told her lie hail been in a despondent mood. She was very sympathetic. She, also, had been feeling simply suicidal of late. And then she began to draw him out, delicately— to ask him alxmt his ‘ work’ (he wrote little drawing-room “ chansonettes ” now and then), about his ambitions, his travel in Japan, his singing. She listened attentively’ to all he said, and he said a good deal. What gorgeous eyes she had ! But, far above all, what a charming and intelligent mind ! And what hair ! Half an hour Hew by. Mrs Hardinge appeared on the landing below. She was looking for somebody. ‘ Oh ! I must go,’ said Miss Firth, gathering up the fan and the lace handkerchief from her lap. ‘ It must be nearly tomorrow- by now. ’ ‘ Don’t go yet,’ said Hunter. ‘ I had counted on seeing you here to-night.’ ‘ Had you ?’ simply. ‘ 1 came, really, to take this opportunity of bidding you good-by, Miss Firth.’ ‘ Good-by ! What — ? I don’t understand.’ ‘ I am going away—abroad -perhaps to the East again.’ He saw her fingers tighten on the fan. ‘ This is very sudden,’ she said, in an altered voice. ‘ For how- long?’ ‘ I may l>e back in a few months—or a few years,’ he answered, watching her. She bit her underlip and her eyelids flickered. ■ She laughed bitterly. ‘ Oh, how -T-ateful you ought to l»e, you men ! We poor women ’ She got up brusquely and her voice ehanged again to a forced stage calm. ‘ I am dreadfully tired to-night, Mr Hunter. I don’t know why. 1 must ask you to find Mrs Hardinge. Say I’m in the cloak room. I’ll wait there.’ * And what shall I say to you ?’ She looked up at him with a little helpless smile. ‘ I hardly know. I—no. Good-night and—good-liy.’ He raised a detaining hand. She gave him hers. It turned into an ordinary bandshake ; and before he conld speak she had swept around once. He was slightlydazed. When he got back into the crowd he forgot his message to Mrs Hardinge until she passed him in a few minutes and said, ‘ Can you tell me where Miss Firth is?’ ‘ Oh, I had a message. She’s in the cloak room. She was tired. I was to tell you not to trouble ’ But she went down stairs at once. ‘ Mrs Hardinge’s carriage !’ The two women entered. ‘Well,’ began Mrs Hardinge, as soon as the carriage door was closed, * you seem to have a—mused yourself to night, you naughty.’ ‘ Mollie, I’ve had such a joke. I could not resist it. Do listen. You know that lately Percy Hunter has been paying sort of half attentions to me “ entre autres.” Say you know.’ ‘ Of course.’ ‘And the way be picks his steps, and shilly-sliallies, ami chaperones himself generally is too much for mortal woman. I had to see if I couldn’t find him into a little flutter—is there a man who can resist a few compliments laid on with discretion ?—and oh ! it was such a glorious success. When I think of his silly smile— Mollie.’ Ami she laughed until her satin bodice creaked agvin. • Well, you're a niee little girl to take to a nice little party,’ said Mrs’Hardinge,

catching the laughter. *Go on ; tell more. ’ And Miss Firth gave a full description of what had taken place on the landing, with a really funny imitation of Hunter’s voice and manner. ‘ His going away gave me such opportunities, you see,’ she wound up. ‘ The worst is, lie may want to go on with this game. But, after all, what is easier than to— ’ * I don’t know why on earth you don't take him when you ve quite done fooling him alxmt. He’s good looking, and would not —’ ‘ls it likely that I would seriously consider that minx? But it’s a refreshing change to score off that sort of man once in a way—calculating, careful, cucumberheaded prigs that they are!’ And Hunter was saying to himself : By George ! evidently gone deeper there than I had intended. Poor girl ; shows one can’t lie careful enough. Well, it’s fortunate for once, as it happens. Of course, 1 chuck Italy.’ And in the end he married a very young girl, of the retiring violet type, from’Yorkshire. Miss Firth hail become Mrs Duncan Ellis. Dorothy had taken to wood carving and a poor girsl’ club in the Edgware Road. Her personal appearance is Mrs Dallas’ despair.—‘ Black and White.’