THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 184, 25 July 1908, Page 3

THE STORYTELLER.

! THE SECOHD MRS. OGILYIE. (By Chris Sewcll in M.A.P.) This narrative is in the nature of a warning. Its morals are manifold-so manifold that I will leave them to the reader's discretion. N fc£ v!? 1 °^7 k ' grandfather, i 3 a fcrf ISSZL? Bixt /. ei g ht . with a per ,h^ g ( US ~ due cbie& y to his Irish ' W °«l-f°r getting into mild scrapes. To me, Wynne Woodfall, his grand■M. ke. has been in the habit of lsSl™ for assistance ln h.s dilemmas. I lived with nun during my school and college days, whilst my parents served the Empire on an Indian hill station. But when on his return from a lengthy stay in Paris, <, ne September, he coiit° i me .f we stroo:e thr »«Kl» the stubble together, that he'd married a fascinating little woman, by Jove'P fi y V affeetionate ' good-just vour style, Wynne-daughter of a Chevalier of old family itf Navarre-you could have fetfed me with less than the proverbi&l fe&her. v J

It had been, apparently, quite a romantic affair, this marriage. "Tb° Chevalier of old family ""hose to dis--approve strongly, and Grandpapa and' lis bnde eloped, as it were, in a Paris nacre. After this confession, Grandpapa miss-1 «tt three birds in succession.

M was too perturbed even to fire. "Ye gods!" I muttered at intervals, "what did the mater say!" (The mater is his only daughter.) Grandpa winked and then looked rather sheepish. "She'll he charmed with—with yo-ir grandmother, when she sees her—everyone is," he pronounced. ■We tramped on, and in the intervals' of as bad a morning's shooting as ever fell to the lot of two earnest sportsmen, Grandpa sandwiched nervous details of his new and remarkable outbreak." I gathered that Mrs. General Ogilvie was forty, but exceedingly well preserved. She was vivacioys, moreover, and imperfectly acquainted with English. Grandpa had known her some ten years before, when he was connected with the British Embassy.

A reputed outbreak of typhoid among his tenantry had called him home, when Ws honeymoon was scarcely over. Mrs. General Ogilvie had been left in an hotel in Paris, pending investigations. Investigations had proved satisfactory, and Grandpa was to meet her at Dover on the following Thursday. The old gentleman was palpably nervous and he swore me to se«fecy. He wished to break his news to his family and friends in his own way. .. : "Never meant to tell you, my dear fellow," said he, " but you're so understanding for a young 'un, that somehow it slipped out." I was flattered at this—what man Wouldn't be? Besides, Grandpapa had been awfully "understanding," as he called it, about Iris and me a year before when Lady Elstowe cut up rough. (Iris Elstowe, let me remark in par--enthesis, is the very dearest girl in the World, and when she's of age she's'going to defy a massive and hostile mother, and marry me. Meanwhile, the massive and hostile mother, who has other views for her, lives to chequer my existent when possible.) One good turn deserves another. Impulsive, warm-hearted grandparents have their uses. I promised to respect the old gentleman's secret. Thursday morning arrived, and Grandpapa, with a doctor at his wrist, so to speak, and a clinical thermometer 'n his mouth, lay in bed and silently cursed my officiousness in trying to stem the tide of a sharp and sudden attack of influenza. Eventually the doctor departed smiling, and Grandpapa told me exactly what he thought of him. "That fool says if I get up, I run a serious risk at my age —my age—faugh! I'll give him two years for every one. of his and beat him . in a trot. As you've tied me by the leg " here, young man, you'll do my work for me, if you please, and go and meet your grandmother.. Someone's got to meet her, do you tee t" I hadn't thought of this, and I looked scared.

"I'd do the same for you," the old gentleman muttered. "Do you remember that day when I chivied Lady Elstowe into the Eosery because you wanted to " I S did remember it, and I said so Jiastily. It had been very handsome in Grandpapa., At the same time bargains ,of this kind between twenty-four and sixty-eight seemed wanting in dignity. Still, the fact remained that I should never have found the opportunity, berare term began, to say—well, what I did say to Iris, if Grandpapa hadn't pome to the rescue. "11l go," I said; ;' there's a train to Charing Cross at ten. How shall I know her?" 1 Grandpapa smiled reminiscently. "She will look lost and flurried," he asid, "and .be trying to) make the porters understand. She's a smart little- woman, with a very sweet smile—you can't mistake her." [ 1 gave Grandpapa a dose of medicine i-the bottle at that moment arriving—.and went to get ready with misgivings.

: There were several smart little women with sweet smiles at Dover. It is, when you come to think of it, a brand peculiar to France. In desperation I chased the most likely-looking one twice round jjthe boat and captured her at last by fbe gangway. ', "Pardon," I began, "je crois bien que vous " ; She "turned frank eyes of dismay upon toe.

] "Say," sße expostulated, "I'm not JBfflart at your lingo. P'raps—" but jwith an apology I fled. \ The next person I met was, of all people on earth, Lady Elstowe on her ;w«y back from Cannes. For a wonder ghe was gracious—exceedingly gracious— Jrafc sle was curious to know whom I'd >ome to meet, and I was not anxious ,to tell her. I looked uncomfortable, and mumbled something about 'a friend.'

Bhe appeared a little auspicious even then, I remember, but left me at last. ; The passengers had all surged off, and there only remained on deck a girl in pcarlet—a very befriUed and Frenchy girl, who was talking luggage in laboripus English to a porter, and growing father excited as she talked. As I passed in my final search for Grandjpapa's wife, the porter appealed to ma. "Beg pardon, sir, could you kindly tell this lady that she gits into that there train and goes to Charing Cross; no doubt 'er friends will meet her." \ I was about to comply when my eyes caught the label attached to the girl's box which the porter was preparing to heave on to his shoulder. ; That label said "Ogilvie.' ! Heavens above us!—this searlet-

tongued, fluffy-haired slip of a creature—this Parisian fashion-plate, was Grandfather's wife! I suggested this solution to her when breath was vouchsafed me, and she instantly rippled with relieved laughter, and to my unutterable embarrassment kissed me on both cheeks, and loaded me with voluble expressions of delight, while the porter grinned approbation. I looked apprehensively around lest perchance some mischievous imp had sent Lady Elstowe T>aek in search of a rug or Tauchnitz. At last I disengaged myself, and then I hurriedly my new relative nervously off the boat and into an empty first-class on the Charing Cross express. ■ It was of course the imp aforesaid. 'and no one else, who prompted Lady Elstowe to change her carriage just as we were about to start, and come into ours. She raised her eyebrows as she sat down, and the expression of her tace made mv heart retreat to my boots it was k pursed-up expression which 1 had learnt to know and dread, and gen-

eraliy-preceded war. • My position was an awkward one. i lad given my word to Grandpapa not to disclose his secret, so I could not introduce my companion to her. 1 eoum not talk to Tier and leave }hs. General Ogilvie out of the conversation. Mrs. General Ogilvie talked French-very vi- • wcious gesticulatory French, in which she constantly called me " mon petit and " mon cher ami." It was a relief to me to remember that Udy Elstowes French was of the painstaking, boardinggchoot order, and that she would be completely bewildered by this. i Taking everything into consideration,! '{hat run of two hours through Ken fields and Surrey hills was the most tooroughly uncomfortable time of my

long I-utt W*™*: mtl M trembling hands, had snapped pince-nez on to her extremely aquilme nose, and wis sweeping my new relative from top in the middle of one of these Weep" that French Grandmama cangnt -'Ah! pardon." she cried: "quel malbenr. Vdameest unpeumalade. n'est-ce pas-un moment! She extracted smelbng salt* from • daintv travelling towards the discomfited mother of J ' with the "sweet smile" described by • GrandpcE" , ,-.*;„„ ,f T n s o • 'v Elstowe's rcnndintion >' those svivW-saHs. had the situation teen less strained and less fraught villi

a future, would have doubled me -with laughter. ! " Non, merci," she began majestically; "je me porte—kindly tell your friend (with a very vicious accent on ' friend ) that I am quite well, only a little—er—disillusioned." I explained in very rapid French to ' grandmama' that the lady in the corner was suffering from a. pain in her temper. French grandmama put her head on one side like a vivacious robiu, and rippled with laughter as she restored the salts to her bag. " She thinks we talk too much, and are too noisy, eh?" she whispered in French. bac'k° mething ° f the S ° rt '" l w,,ia P erc<l "She is a friend of yours!" whispered grandmama again. . "**« "fighter is," I said with meaning, for grandmama's smile invited confidence.

The moment the words were out, I repented them-for 'Grandmama,' fearin* that she had put her foot in it and w 13 l,in g to make the amende honorable turned again to the silent figure in the

"il l ifth n ; jf - tla,,ie " sllesi,id3 "'«-'«y. iJL . at w,z OUr talk <"><■ noise we I incommode you ?" Lady Elstowe bowed a cold bow era <»ZZ" eU to dictate to »'«*««■ to their behaviour in a public conveyance," she said reoa ]j y ' lunvc > thfs re buMr dm!,ma d 'l not ""Jentand mis, but she persevered. "When you encounter your eran> «Wde on the first time, you also m-,k" vene merry, n'est-ce-pas »* wittiurf^V^ 3 litCrall y bu, g ed nitl. fury If a ghace eom , j a sd™ *? f a , ndmama wt,uld h a sorry spectacle. B id S e h Lr eleri fi a PaP<!r fr ° m a 'MP beSyK^ nchgrandmama «^ «t»»"?« T?-* 7 ' 1 r de fearful i™* wT f w T f latlve -also I gently kicked her foot, ft W as no use. "I am hecs—" (she pointed to me)— necs grandmozzer-what do you think oi that, hey?

She made this announcement with a perfect gust of silvery laughter. What Lady Elstowe did think was of course Mat this reputationless foreigner, into whose toils I had been beguiled, was bent on insulting her. She trembled and shook like an oak tree i n a gale. The remnant of self. C 0" „ she had Preserved forsook her It will be my painful duty to inform —ccrtam people who have hitherto reposed confidence in Mr. Ogilvie-exactly , what I think of it and him," she said, shaking with rage. "Till then, I would J>eg to be excused from a discussion on a matter which can only bring annoyance to me and humiliation to him." S j!S tufied away from us, as one who notifies an episode closed. French grandmama and I looked at each other and I forcibly restrained her when she would have risen and gone over to explain further. "Leave it alone," I said. "It will come right in the end, perhaps." But I really wondered if it would.

I laid the case before Grandpapa a little later on. He was sitting up in his room with French grandmama in devoted attendance. She looked older without her veil and hat, but was amazingly well preserved. It was quite pretty to see them together, and I forgave them the hole in which they had landed me, though I'm not sure they deserved it. I put a letter into Grandpapa's hand that I had received from Iris that morning. "Dear Wynne,—Oh! what has happened? Mother is throwing out the most awful hints. She says I am never to see you again. She is going to call on General Ogilvie this afternoon, about your low acquaintances. She thinks you've gone up to Oxford, and I haven't disillusioned her. Probably she will make me come with her. I have cried for twenty-four hours. But whatever it is, I know it isn't your fault.—lris." "Iris is a brick," said Grandpapa. Then he slapped his knee and declared it the joke of the season. "We'll receive them when they call, eh, Wynne?" he cried.

And we did. It was a diverting quarter of an hour when it came. Lady Elstowe sailed In with a perfect frenzy of dignity and deportment. Iris followed, red-eyed, in her wake. Have you ever seen a kettle of boiling water emptied suddenly over a block of ice? I lflrven't, hut that's the only simile I can think of. Lady Elstowe had expected to find Grandpapa alone. She had come literally fizzing with information that was to anihilate me; and Grandpapa wasn't alone—grandmama stood on one side, and I on the other. Grandmama was in magenta with a ribbon in her hair. "Glad to see you, Lady Elstowe," said grandpapa—" my wife." He presented French grandmama. And French grandmama smiled her most liewitehing smile, and' offered a forgiving hand to Lady Elstowe. • Then she kissed- Iris! Iris kissed her heartily in return. "My grandson, you know," said Grandpapa genially, "won't you sit down?" And she had to. Moreover, she had to pretend her call had only lieen a chance one, and she had to talk polite platitudes and congratulate Grandpapa. It was immense. And she had to listen when Grandpapa (in my absence with Iris to examine orchids in the conservatory) eulogised me to the skies; and grandmama expressed such virtues as she had already discovered, in gestures; and she had to agree when Grandpapa suggested that there was no reason why our enI gagement should not be announced dij dectly I had taken my degree! [ And her ladyship was so entirely routed that she had to surrender uncondiI tionally.