The Cotton Factory Times. — 1913-06-06 (Manchester, Greater Manchester, England)

MRS. HAROLD GORST. 61 VIOIIOIIOIIIQIIIOINDMICALAIGON3M All • 01::11i  I am afraid that even her beet friends v euld have to admit that rny cousin- Molly is an arrant, flirt, though the herself will deny the imputation. " Things just happen," abe asserts, and it's a shame to blame her because young men—middleaged and Md, too, for the matter of that—happen to be round when she is about. (The vernacular is entirely her own.)  . -However call it flirting or "happening," the result is always the same. Every other month or so, unfortunate male creatures some indignant and wrathful, others broken-headed and hinting at suicide or emigration, bid Molly a tragic farewell. A personal good-bye when they can manage it, but generally she delegates the good-byes and explanations to Aunt Sophy, with whom she lives. After One of these affecting scenes she appears penitent and subdued for at least a couple of weeks, in very bad rases a full month; but it does not last. She "happens" across another victim, and the end is a foregone conclusion. Late last autumn, Molly mitered from a aliarp attack of "flue." A couple of weeks of this pulled her down tremendously, both in appearance and spirits. She was ordered to Bournemouth to recruit, and I saw her and Aunt Sophy off at Waterloo one bleak morning in October.  It was a woebegone-looking little woman, pallid, shrunken, and liet:ess who, in return to my parting admonishment, "Now, remember, no more scrapes, no 'happenings' aoross unfortunate young men who will fall in love with you," replied: "No man in his senses will want to make love to a scarecrow, and look at see now." _  Beyond' a oard to say they had arrivod, I beard no more of my aunt and cousin fora week. At the end of that period came a letter from Molly herself. Despondency apparently scattered to the winds, and optimism once more to the fore. In a pencilled post.cript, presumably an afterthought, she had added a few lines. "There is ate Italian Count staying here, such a dear, with great, beautiful dark eyes that seem to search one's very soul"  .1 smped grimly to myself, though I rather di.  Three clays later another leLte.r, mainly about Count Psllschavi. "These Southerners have such charming manners; you Englishmen appear cold, almost uncouth in contrast." (I objected both to adjective and personal pronoun.) "They perform little acts of courtesy with an air, a grace, perfectly irresistible in its simplicity and sincerity." (H'rn I questioned it.) "And then, they are no poetical too. Early this morning the Count came beneath my open bedroom window, and threw in flowers, still wet with the dew, to greet me as I rose from my slumbers, Wasn't it .eweet of him?"  bantam:dad cheek I called it. Yee, I bated that Count.  At the end of a second week arrived a note, a mere scrap enclosed in Aunt Sophy's more voluminous bildget. "Forgive that I have not kept my promise of writing tegularly. Indeed, I have not had the time. The weather has been so lovely that the Count and I have spent nearly all our days, out in the pine woods in search of health and vitality. For he, poor dear, has been ill oleo. Five months ago he was not expected to live." My private ejaculation at this point need not be recorded.  I wrote to Annt Sopby, a diplomatic letter, I natant myself, pointing out that no doubt a chaperone's responsibilities were onerous, but not to be shirked under any consideration. I also mentioned—quite casually, for I did not want to betray my cousin's confidences—that faacinating foreigners should be looked upon with an eye of suspicion, especially when one knew nothing of their antecedenta  By return came a bewildered reply from my aunt She could not uncteretand my meaning. Would I please explain? As for foreigners, there was coly one—a perfectly charming I,llan--staying at the Hydro, and—. Here the page ended, and the conclusion, presumably on a fresh abet, the had omitted to unclose. How like Aunt Sophy! . _  I now became really angry with my oeuem, for it was plain she wan concealing her Hirtiferous conduct with the Count froze bet too-confiding and uneugpicione chaperone. I wrote to the deceitful girl, and did not rpare her. She ignored my letter for a week, and then wrote and bade me "mind my own buninew," winding up with defiant and three timna underlined P.S. "Yesterday the Count kimod me in the wood: !"  The vies really going too far. As for Aunt Sophy, tine mast have taken he,. of her E. c. 116eS not to have perceived what was going on xuider her very nose. Something would have to be done a 3 onoe.  Next morning I sta.rted fx Roornensouth. Just before the luncheon bell rang I was shown into any aunt's prirate sitting room. Sas was alone, and appee.reci surprisod to see me. - . _ _  I asked for 1'..)11,y. 'She w. —out. 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