The Ladies' Magazine.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2161, 17 August 1907, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Ladies' Magazine.

A WEEK-END WOOING. (Cass I's Saturday Journal.] “No marriage, no money,” said Mr. Writto blandly, but with decision, “'the year allowed you in which to find a suitable wile expires at noon next Tuesday. If you havo not done so then it will bo my duty to advise the trustees apxiointod by your late uncle that they must give your cousin, Mr. John Demoulin, tlie opportunity which you have failed to utilise.” Mr. Writto being a solicitor, spoke with profosionul precision ; but Martin Demoulin, though lie had called to consult him, gave no heed to that. “My uncle’s will is an absurdity I” he argued impetuously. “To stipulate that the property is to become mine if I marry within twelve months, and that, if I do not, everything is to go to Jadk if ho does so within a year afterwards, is eccentric to craziness. I dpubt whether tlie deed will stand law.”

The other’s thin lips hardened to a straight line. “l’ormit mo to point out,” lie returned coldly, “that you can scarcely question its legality after benefiting under it as you havo done. It. instructed that during the xirobationary year the trustees wero to x>ay the whole freo income, in order that von might look for a wife in fitting fashion. Under tlia.t clause you have received fully four thousand pounds, which you undertook to spend upon the object specified. I x>resume you have done so?” “And—moj-e,” the young man answered lugubriously. “ In fact,” he hesitated, “I came to ask you if there is any left?”

“There is not. Let me remind you that, after next Tuesday, the income belongs for a year to Mr. John—tliaf is, failing the lady by then. Ait! this is Friday.”

The visitor gathered up liis hat stick and gloves. “There will be no lady,” lie ‘■•aid dejectedly. “I have met only one whom I could marry, and I do no’ know whether she will marry me oi not.” “It would be desirable, in your owr oivh interests, to ascertain before Tuesday,” suggested the lawyer. “I cannot—l do not know where she is.”

“In that ease,” responded Mr "Writto, who was devoid of any sense or liuomor, “I regret it is impossible for me to assist you further. Good afternoon.”

Martin, exceedingly depressed, do sceiuled towards tho street; to «.n counter his cousin John, as ho crnei g ed into it. The two were about the same age, and on friendly terms “I heard you were hereabouts.” tlie newcomer began, “ and came in search of you.” “With news of Enid Earl?” asked Martin, eagerly. The other shook his head.

“No,” ho returned. “Mrs. Claris; can ascertain nothing oxcexit that di< has gone abroad with her mother—just wliat you learned at the flat.”

Martin nodded gloomily, and Mie other continued. “What, brought me was to convey an invitation from Mrs Clariss to I’insea for this week-end—from today until Tuesday'. She is motoring down, leaving shortly, and wo could go down with her. Wliat do you say?” “I don’t mind,” assented his cousin, laughing mirthlessly. “If any news comes of Enid it will be to Mrs. Clariss, so I shall be on the spot. I can return with you on Tuesday to see you come into your inheritance—mine,” lie added more bitterly.

“Skittles!” ejaculated John Dcmonlin, attempting geniality. “You may find a wife before Tuesday—who can tell 1”

“Although Mrs. Earl is my only sister, and a widow,” remarked Mrs. Clariss that evening to Martin, “she never tells me beforehand of ,l:er movements —indeed, she seldom plans them out herself. Dear Enid and she are most erratic ill that respect.” “It is very kind of you to have made inquiry.” “Nat at all. I became really intensely interested when your cousin explained the position. It seems such a pity that you did not speak to Enid sooner.” “I havo only 'known her a few weeks.”

“Ah!” Mrs. Clariss commented “I fancied your aquaintance with her was even older than ytfnr cousin’s with Margery.”

Though a strenuous matchmaker she was a kindly woman, sufficiently unselfish to be willing to see either her daughter or her niece linked to the Demoulin fortune, as John Demouliii’s attentions to Margery led her tc believe might be the case, if the fateful Tuesday found Martin still unwed.

“Possibly you may have news tomorrow,” he said, reverting to the subject uppermost in his mind. "Jack tells me bo liroposes to go along to Craymouth then to fetch a motor boat lie lias bought; but #i\ itli youi permission, I would prefer to remain at band.”

“As you wish. Only I expect Mr. Clariss ill our little steam yacht, which lie has just finished fitting out at Southampton, and he will probably insist upon our going out lor a trial trip with him.” Which was precisely wliat did happen ; nor could Martin reasonably refuse to join tlio jiarty. “We’ll run up towards Cravmoutli,” said bis host,, a bluff, hearty, sailor-like man, “and belli Jack back to dinner—it’s ten to one that the works of that tin pot and s]>irit lamp craft of his go wrong.” But the Skiva —a smart 200-ton steamer—arrived off Craymouth as dusk was falling without having encountered tlie motor boat; to learn, however, from a fisherman who came alongside, that it had passed outwards earlier.

“The {rout- line) a youn.v la<ly with him,” the man added, “ and 1 heard him say to an older lady, whom I took tor her mother, as she left the jetty, that they would he hack in an hour or two.”

“Philip,” iaid -Mrs. Clariss sharply t'o her husband, “we must go alfc-r them—at once.”

■ “I don’t like the idea, "he demurred. “The glass is falling, and it is going to he a black night. Jack has held on for Pill sea—we must have missed him.”

“I do not- think so,” said the lad-’, grimly. “Something has happened—we must Jock.”

So tlio Skim’s bows swung seaward, and slic moved away through the gathering night until tlio shore lights had twinkled out astern. Suddenly, against the last glint of daylight Jow down on the horizon, a snako-liko hull showed amongst the tossing waters ns a mere streak, darting past the yacht towards the land. “Jack!” Martin yelled from the wing of the bridge.

Hut it was the hoarso call of the siren that appeared to check the motor-—that and tho quick turn of the yacht, indicating iliglit to be useless. Tlio boat stopped, swept round, and came nosing to where the accommodation ladder had been lowered. “I’ass the word for Mr. Domoulin to step down here,” his cousin instructed the mail who stood near its foot, and Martin appeared almost ere the words were spoken. “I’ve found Enid for you,” Jack whispered to him hurriedly, ‘.‘but I think she has fainted. Will you lift and hand her up, whilst I steady the boat?”

Martin, bewildered did as lie bid—it was no time for asking questions. He found the girl lying limp benath the forward hood, and, with an effort, conveyed her to the sailor on the ladder, who bore her upwards. He was about to follow when a sudden cry came from Jack.

“Look out!” ho called sharply. He had flung off t'he line that held the boat to the larger vessel—a moment later they drifted apart. Martin, felt, rather than saw, his companion dart past him, tug at a lever, twist at a valve—and then spring overboard . “Save yourself!” he shouted wildly as he went- “The boat is sinking!” 111. “I suppose there is little hope that Mr. Martin will turn up to-day,” remarked Mr. Writto, shortly before noon the following Tuesday. He addressed John Demoulin, who, with Mr. Clariss as escort, had called at his office.

“None whatever,” returned the ’after in his blunt fashion. ‘These motor contraptions invariably drown people when anything goes wro ig. Jack here tells me his must have sprung a leak through bumping alongside us. We had a difficult job picking him up, and saw nothing of „he boat through wo cruised about vill dawn.”

“A sad affair,” the lawyer commented. “I should recommend you, Mr John, not to leave the search for a suitable young lady over until the last moment.”

“On the contrary,” returned that young man, “I have taken time by tho forelock.”

Ho glanced towards Mr. Clariss. who nodded asscntingly.

“Go ahead,” he added. “You may as well explain now.” “I think I had,” responded the other, edging a little away, “if only to avoid further complications. It is a curious coincidence that, just before you came across me the other night, f had been proposing to Miss Enid Earl—l hope and believe she will have mo now.”

He looked towards tho clock, which was just upon twelve. Mr Clariss sprang up.

“You low hound 1” he ejaculate!. “More than two months ago you asked the permission of my wife and myself to address our daughter.” “I had not. then seen Enid,” he excused himself.

Clariss advanced upon him, his face aflame and his fists clenched. Mr Writto interposed. “Gentlemen!” lie espostulated. “No violence pray ” A clerk, entering with a carl, checked all three. “Mr. Martin Demoulin!” cried the lawyer, his eyebrows going up as he read the inscription. “Show him in.” It was, indeed, Martin who appeared ; somewhat pale and worn, but witli fire in his eyes as he faced liis cousin.

“You treacherous scoundrel 1” he hised. “You knew where Enid was all the time—you kept her out in that boat to try and coerce her into promising to marry you—you tricked me into it, intending to drown me!” “These are serious allegations,” said Mr. Writte.

“I can prove them. As he jumped over he opened a seacock to flood the boat and started the motor to drive it from the yacht. Before T found and closed the one the water had stopped the other and I drifted helplessly until a- coaster picked me up and landed me. Then I made staight for Craymoutli, where Enid told me told me Jack had known they were going there, and of his conduct otherwise.”

John shrugged liis shoulders. “She will regard it differently” he retorted, “when I go to her, as I shall now, as. the heir to the Demoulin money. See! It is long past, noon—l presume Mr. Writte, that we may regard this farce as ended.”

“Not in the way you think,” Martin interposed sternly. “Enid and 1 were married by special license this morning—here is the certificate—and I claim the estate.”

“Good!” ejaculated Mr. Claris*. “Congratulations on your week-end wooing.” He swung swiftly about upon John, raising his foot. “Will you get out, or he kicked out?” he demanded. But John JDomoulin did not wait to answer.

. HAPPENINGS IN THE CAPTIAL. By “Penelope.” Wellington. WOMEN IN THE COUNCIL. This is the topic of the week, in the street, the drawing-room, and Parliament. Mr Wiil ford, whether m ischief or earnestness prompted him, is responsible lor the excitement. It was Iris amendment that hurst like a bombshell across tlio peaceful progress of Sir William Steward’s time-worn Bill to reform the Council. The Ladies’ Gallery was crowded, but probably no one, until a laugli broke from tho members noticed how fat-reaching was tlio proposal, hinging as it did on tho word elector, which is either masculine or feminine. Then there was plenty of interest, and the women dropped their work and hung absorbed over tbo edge of the gallery to watch tlio division. To tbo surprise of many, the Premier and his Ministers voted for tho amendment. It is whispered his generous action is not ap predated in the Upper House whose members scent ridicule in the idea. Of course, from Council to Executive is a logical step, so, in the future wo may have a Mrs. Brown-Jones, Minister for Public Works, and a Miss Smiffkins, Attorney-General. Of course it is not law yet. It has again to come before tho Lower House for its third reading, and then has to run the gauntlet of the Council, where tho discusion ought to prove extremely interesting. One wonders what view the Labor members will take of the matter.

Women, on the whole, appear indifferent', and rather contemptuous of tho new privilege that may be conferred on them. One lady, embittered by a long course of experimental maids with long intervals of 119 help at all, and gloomy on account of excessive rents and dear living, is taking a brighter view of the future. She declares that before, the Old Age Pension and the Benevolent Asylum were the sole lodestars of her old age; now there is a possible padded seat in tho Council with prequisites! A PAIR OF BOOTS. Mr. McLachlan’s boots are sharing the interest with Mr. Wilford’s amendemnt. The member for Ashburton is never at any time an ornamental feature of the House, and unfortunately, is always an object of interest to the galleries, but this last episode has made >liini still more prominent. It happened after midnight. I was the only woman in the Chamber, having come to the House from a ball to see how the Estimates were progressing. Mr. MsLachlan, though he had contributed nothing to the discussion besides interjections, felt weary and uncomfortable, and began undoing bis boots. He kicked both off, and then, to everyone’s horror, placed them, muddy!as they were —for tho night was wet—on his desk. My feelings of amusement were mingled with apprehension, for I feared that- he might- continue his toilet for the night, and I prepared for sudden flight. However, he arranged himself along his settee andstuck his stockinged feet well in view on the arm of the bench, apparently going off to sleep. Mr. Wilford asking if the tariff on boots 'were to be discussed, drew Mr. Barclay’s attention to them, but the Chairman felt it inadvisable to interfere. There was evidently no Standing Order that forbade a member’s putting his boots on his desk. At last a messenger stole forward and placed the boots on the floor, but Mr. McLaclilan had one eye open, “Where are my boots?” he growled, and groped about until he found them, with a defiant thump he banged them down again on the desk, when he rose to speak, he placed his boots on the floor. It was certainly an episode that did not redound to the credit of Parliament, but it is rather a breach of good taste and good manners than of the rules of the House. Years ago, 1 saw the then Minister for Lands with his feet, arrayed in socks of that oldfashioned grey-purple tone, up 011 his desk. But the HOll. Mr. Duncan is a very different type of man to the member for Ashburton. SNAKES AND SHOOTING.

There are two excellent “turns” just come to an end at Fullers’, and the Theatre Royal has had crowded audiences. “Cleopiatra,” a. lithe, olive-ckeeked, bright-eyed girl plays most familiarly with snakes—a score of them of all sizes. She arranges them on the top) of a brass railing, and then twists them about her, until at the last slio is a ■writhing mass of serpents with heads and tails coiling and contorting. Even about lier ankles and her head the creatures twist and twine, and it takes her some time to extricate herself. It was, — although the exhibition was horribly fascinating—a decided relief when the last snake was put back into tlie box, and the key turned. Even then one had an uncomfortable idea that one of the reptiles might have escaped unawares and be creeping about look ing for unprotectcd ankles. The markswoman was a younger edition of the snake-charmer, who helped her with the riflcS and inndo tho“turn” moro picturesque. The girl was a wonderful shot, and aimed successfully in any position, even with her back to the target, a paper mask, with a tiny eye hole being made in it and a small mirror used. As well as being such a certain shot she is extremely rapid. VARIOUS FUNCTIONS.

In the light of our former dissipations, this has been a quiet week. Mrs. Grace’s lea-party was perhaps the social event of the week. ft was a very large and smart affair, with any number of new spiring hats, and fresh frocks, and good-looking women. Men too, were present, though not in overwhelming proportion, for the man who cares for afternoon teas is not usual. The rooms are large and handsome, and the flowers exquisite masses of foliage and blossoms, and the lire places and mantlopieec: being clusters of daffodils set on every nv : >d able stand. The tea-table bad bowls of primulas ill full blosso; >. string baud played, and Miss Pliocbie Parsons sang charmingly. A bridge-party of the progressive order was given by Airs. Nelson last week for her English noiee. Miss Marie Nelson. Mrs. Malcolm Ross gave a small tea for Mrs. Leacock, wife of Profesor Leacock, of Montreal, and the annual ball of the staff of the Wellington Corporation took place on Friday last- in the Town Hall. This was really a great event, the Mayor, Mayoress, Councillors and their wives, attending and hundreds of employees enjoying the danc-

ing. 1 never saw a more brilliant interior.

In regard to the number of lights, which hung in huge festoons from ceiling to galleries, and which wore of extraordinary brilliant colors, it outdid tho race bail, the most gorgeous function, probably ever held in Wo'lington. So vivid were tho ligiits that they tinted the white frocks with varying tones until it was really difficult to tell what a girl was wearing. A very pretty and graceful stranger in white erepo-de-chinc with -lie Greek Rey pattern iu narrow braids of silk decorating tho skirt ind bodice was much admired. She was young Mrs. Ormiston Chant, whose husband—a. son of the Mre. Ormiston Chant whose efforts years ago te reform tho Empire Musical Hall may he remembered—is hero building our new destructor. They have not long arrived from Homo. A dance at Lady Stout’s rounded off the week very happily. ABOUT PEOPLE. Miss Stafford from Auckland is staying with Miss Horton for the Golf Championship Meeting. Mr, and Mrs. Wills Kennedy, their daughter, Mr. Mr. and Mrs Turing, and their small. -;on and Mrs. .Joachim, of Dunedin for Auckland and the Islands this week. Tlio second Government House Parliamentary dinner was held last Saturday, and was much enjoyed. Six Irishmen—including the Premier, header of the Opposition, and the Governor—were sitting together, curiously enough. Lady Plunket, who had to wait ten days at Suva for her steamer is due here in the 21st. The Hon. Kathleen Plunket and the other aide accompany her. Mrs. Hislop, the wife of the Mayor was sufficiently recovered to attend the Corporation ball. The engagement of Miss Birney Stevenson, of Wellington, to Mr. Brundell Boyle, son of Mayor Boyle of County Derry, Ireland, has been given out, Mr. Boyle having an appointment under the Siamese Government, the marriage takes place in Bangkote. Miss Ina Whitson , who has been staying at Makotuku with her cousin, Mrs Whitson, remained a few days in Wellington with her aunt Mrs. Malcolm Ross, and then went south to Dunedin. THE MAN FROM CANADA.

Tho man of the hour, in the capital, is Dr. Stephen Leacock, an author of some celebrity, and Proffessor of Political Science at McGill University, Montreal Canada. Dr. Leacock is a friend of the famous “Dr Jim,” and also knows Kipling, with whom he stayed in liis charming place in Sussex. Dr. Leacock is studying the Outer Empire, and is writing a book on it—a book that will be worth having when it comes out, because the young Canadian professor sees with a discerning eye and has a quaint, original, and at the same time forcible way of putting things. Though he deals with matters of serious import, in a serious way, Dr Leacock is also a humourist of the first water, and some of his earlier writings in “Punch,” “Life,” and the “Detroit Free Press” are such, as would win him fame in the lighter walks of literature. At the Savage Club the other evening ho made a great “hit,” and that ■puts the hall mark ujxm him, for there is no keener or more critical audience than the Wellington Savages. He told the Savages “How Bateese Came Home” in such a charming manner tliaifc the pathos and quaint humor of it took 011 a new meaning even to those who were acquainted with the vorse of the late Dr. William Henry Drummond. Drummond, by the way, was a man whom all literary Canadians got to love, and there was much regret when ho died a few months ago. The curious blending of the French and English and the French-English of the Canadian “Habitant” made the poem somewhat difficult for most readers at the Antipodes, but it is, nevertheless delightful even to a man -who has had to struggle with the Canadain French.

Dr. Leacock’s recitation literally brought down the Savage wigwam on Saturday evening, as did also another short humorous story of his own composition, and a final little impromptu speech that was worthy of Mark Twain. Before leaving the subject I may remark that Dr Leacock is v tlie author of the celebrated Boardinghouse Euclid which has been, copied and published under various names (with alterations) all over the world. It was written many years ago but- it still going the round. Punch had it only’ a few months ago slightly altered.