THE REAL REASON.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXI, Issue IX, 27 August 1898, Page 284

THE REAL REASON.

I had arrived at Monte Carlo about 2 o’clock, and after a late lunch set out in search of my friends the Verners. 1 found Master Arthur, a serious minded young’ politician of 22, in his room at the hotel, lie was completing an elaborate toilet and drinking champagne. ‘Aynsley!’ he cried in surprise, ‘1 thought you were in London.’ ‘The spirit of restlessness!’ I explained; my eye dwelt for a moment on the champagne, ‘a little low, Arthur?*

He blushed. Arthur was the highly respectable son of an eminently respectable father, who was M.P. and other things. He glanced at the clock, then rose and picked up his hat and gloves. ‘A stroll!’ I finished with a grin. He laughed nervously.

‘Look here, Aynsley,’ he said, ‘you'll find the governor and Kvelyn on the terrace. Do you mind if I run away now'?’

I got up and laid a. hand on his shoulder in a paternal fashion. ‘She is a woman in a thousand, Arthur! Au revoir and good luck!’ He blushed again—he was really a most nervous young man—and hurried away. I followed him out of the hotel, then strolled leisurely through the gardens and round to the terrace. 1 espied Mr Verney and his daughter sitting almost immediately in the rear of the casino. I walked up to them.

‘Well, ’pon my word!' cried Mr Verney. A smile dimpled round Miss Verney’s mouth as she took my hand. I explained, lucidly, how it was 1 came to leave London in so unexpected a fashion. ‘lt enslaves us all!' T finished with a graceful wave of my hand toward the casino.

‘lndeed!’ said Miss Verney politely. After a few minutes’ conversation Mr Verney pulled out his watch. ‘l'm very glad you came, Aynsley,’ he said, ‘as I left off last night in the midst of a little mathematical experiment with trente et quarante—and, I thought that if you would kindly look after Evelyn I’d— ’ ‘Delighted,’ I said quickly, ‘I trust

the experiment will be brought to a satisfactory conclusion.’ As soon as he had taken his departure I glanced at Miss Verney. She was examining the handle of her parasol with some intent ness. I made a mental note that white suited her admirably, in fact, better than any other girl of my acquaintance. ‘Perfect weather,' I remarked at length. She nodded in a preoccupied manner. ‘I have been wondering,’ she said, after a moment, ‘why you came here.’ ‘Did you not hear me explain?’ I began. She smiled. ‘Oh, yes, but—’ ‘Surely nothing further is needed? The attraction of Monte Carlo is world-famed.’ ‘1 do not believe. Mr Aynsley,’ she said deliberately, ‘that you have ever gambled in your life.’ I tried another tack. ‘Well, then, I’m rather delicate, and the ehill, damp fogs of London are rather trying to an invalid.’ Again Miss Verney laughed. ‘How unsympathetic you are!’ ‘The deep-sea. fishing last winter must have been rather bad for you. No, Mr Aynsley, I’m a clear sighted young person and I can quite see what has brought you so suddenly to Monte Carlo.’ ‘Well?’ I said with an air of indifference. She played with the tassel on her parasol for a moment. Then she smiled. ‘Mrs Fairfax,’ she said at length. I laughed outright. ‘How amusing! Nothing of the sort; the usual attraction, I assure you! ’ ‘Mrs Fairfax.’ ‘Gambling—or invalid’s natural aversion to chill, damp fogs!’ ‘Mrs Fairfax!’ repeated Miss Verney once again, with just a shade of emphasis. I gave it up. ‘A very charming person,’ I said. ‘You admit it?’ and her voice held a tiny note of triumph. ‘Don’t you?’ I replied, wonderingly, ‘she is talented, pretty, agreeable, and

‘A widow,’ put in Miss Verney.

‘Yes, but. her husband was hardly more than an acquaintance. He went to India, you know, shortly after their marriage, and was killed. Do you not think her fascinating?’ ‘Yes, undoubtedly she is a pleasant companion.’ ‘And I’m a lonely bachelor man!’ I remarked apologetically. She turned to me with a. smile. ‘Forgive me,’ she said kindly, ‘for reminding you of your pitiful condition. I only meant to show you that I guessed the reason for your sudden change of plans.’ ‘Your intelligence is beyond reproach. But what made you think of Mrs Fairfax?’ ‘My dear Mr Aynsley,’ she laughed, ‘you forget last season.' 1 tried to recollect. ‘The episode at the Cartons; the Melba night at Covent Garden.’ she reminded gently. ‘You take great interest in my welfare,’ I said with a laugh. ‘I am very glad to notice it,’ I added with a glance at her. ‘By the way,’ 1 continued after a pause, ‘where is Arthur?’ ‘I never trouble about Arthur.’ she replied quickly, ‘he is so wrapped up in his books and studies that even here at Monte Carlo I see very little of him.’ I was amused. ‘You have nothing against Mrs Fairfax?’ I suggested. ‘Nothing whatever,’ she replied frankly; ‘I like, her immenselv.’ This helped matters, I thought. ‘You think she will make a good wife?’ ‘Admirable,’ said Miss Verney. calmly surveying the bay; ‘her experience will be invaluable.’ I caught sight of a couple that had just appeared on the farther end of the terrace. ‘You will come to the wedding?’ A slight tinge of colour appeared on Miss Verney’s cheeks as she turned to me. ‘Has it reached that stage?’ I glanced at the couple and noticed they were arm in arm. ‘I believe so.’ There was a slight pause. Miss Verney played with the tassel again. ‘Then I suppose I must tender my

congratulations?’ she said at length. ‘I believe it is customary among friends,’ I replied, with a glance at her. She had allowed her eyes to fall on the ground. ‘A’ou know she is very wealthy?’ I added. ‘You have been most fortunate in your endeavours,’ she replied in deliberate tones. ‘I trust you’ll be very happy.’ The couple were now opposite to where we were sitting. So engrossed were they in conversation that they had not noticed us. I felt an anticipatory shiver of enjoyment. ‘I do not enter into the question,’ I said. ‘Look!’ She glanced up in surprise. ‘Arthur and Mrs Fairfax,’ she whispered. ‘He is wrapped up in his studies again,’ Iremarked. ‘I fancy he has taken the lady's eyes as his subject.’ Miss Verney looked at me reproachfully. ‘And you knew this all the time?' ‘l’m afraid so. Arthur confided in me some months ago in London, and 1 have occasionally amused myself by helping him. Take the Melba night, for instance.’ ‘Was that on Arthur’s behalf?’ she asked wonderingly. I nodded. It occurred to me once again how extremely charming Miss Verney looked in white. There was a silence for a. minute or so. Arthur and Mrs Fairfax passed out of sight. ‘lt wasn’t the gambling,’ I remarked at length. Miss Verney made no reply. ‘Nor an invalid’s aversion to the chill, damp fogs,’ I went on, after a pan se. ‘Nor Mrs Fairfax.’ she put in. ‘No,’ I said slowly. ‘I came because I thought it just possible you might be pleased to see me.’ There was another pause, and then I added: ‘Are you?’ A smile crept round the corners of Miss Verney’s mouth. ‘Well, yes, I think I am,’ she said. We see a good deal of one another now.—Gilbert Dale, in London ‘Weekly Sun.’