Margaret.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIV, Issue 1, 5 January 1910, Page 36

Margaret.

“I think I like you.” When 1 said that, she put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me. “I do like you,” I said. That and no more was our wooing. Short but very sweet! And why we never married 1 must now tell you. Margaret was, or is. one of several who might in conceivable circumstances have been Mrs. (that’s my wife). 1 haven’t a wife. I should like one, and yet. I don’t know. People tell me it is pure selfishness that keeps me from doing as other men do. Perhaps they are right. How easily they seem to make up their minds that they have found the right girl! And they say 1 ought to get a wife. Can one say “ought" in these matters. It would be an awful fate to marry the wrong one. Of course I would marry a suitable (the suitable) girl if I could find her. They and I mean different things by “suitable.” Any one of the “several" would, no doubt, make me a good wife. But I don’t want simply a good wife. I want—or. rather. I should want if I had any very definite desire in the matter—someone who would love me as I should love her. Perhaps someone who would tell me so without being asked. I had almost hoped she would ap-

pear .last year —Leap Year. I had visions—nightmares they were —at various times throughout the year. Two of these I remember vividly because, in the dream, my thoughts and sensations were wideawake enough, but the circumstances were peculiar. 1 dreamt I was in a land where marriages are arranged, where the bridegroom does not see the bride till the wedding-day. The hour of my marriage was near, and I was sitting in a large room waiting for my fate. A heavy cur-

tain hung across the middle of the room, and behind this curtain was the cause of a great anxiety for me. Once or twice the curtain moved aside, and various “suitable” girls appeared. As each came I sweated with fear, for, as they passed by me, I knew I did not love them. And as each told me, in response to my silent appeal, that my fate was still behind the purdah, I was sensible of a great relief. But the fear was still on me when I awoke. The other dream was more decided, but not less horrible. The marriage ceremony was going on. and I saw my bride. She was not one I ever had seen or wish to see again. And I cried out to the clergyman. “Can the marriage be stopped even yet?” “Yes,” lie said, and

so it was, for I vowed that, come what might, I would not marry that girl. Hut last night 1 had another dream. As before. I was to have no say in the matter. And, as before, my love was to be presented to me. 1 was waiting with a strange thrill of expectation. The door opened wide, ami Margaret came in. She was dressed in black, and her gold-bronze hair was dressed low on her neek. as I liked it best. She was very grave, and she looked as if she felt as 1 felt. She

came elose up to me. 1 looked deep into her eyes. “I think I like you.” When I said that, she put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me. “I do like you,” I said. 1 wonder if that is one of the dreams that come true. 1 have met Margaret only once or twice and don't know her at all. really. But that would not matter if she be like the dream Margaret. I'll go and see her to-day. I rang the bell. “Miss at home?” “No. sir. but Mrs. is.” “Um. ah! Yes, I'll come in.” “Oh, how do you do. You’ve just come

in time to save me a stamp. Here's an invitation to Margaret's wedding next month. She got engaged to your ehum yesterday. A very sudden affair. Love at first sight, I suppose. and the wedding is to be as soon as possible. We thought you would like to come." "Um, ah! Yes, I'll come. Rather funny 1 dreamt last night your daughter was to get married. As a matter of fact. 1 came along to make sure of an invitation."