THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 240, 3 October 1908, Page 3

THE STORYTELLER.

j MISS DERRINGER'S RUSE. i I (By Herbert Jamieson.) "I fclrink you will find a seat at Ue end, Ultra." "•Thank you." It was a popular restaurant, situated iu the heart of theatre-land, and the tea-hour, Ma-tinee hats and ma>tinee chat filled the air. At last Elsie Derringer spied a vacant chair, and made for it. In her progress the rooms she was, of course, recognised. "Look quickly to your left, George! Elsie Derringer, of the World Theatre!" George; a, young man with one cyegtass, which he took oil Ito enable him to look, stood up. It \v;l? shockingly bad form, and has sister did right ,'ii promptly hauling him down by the coattails. It 'was no-t her fault that in his ateupt descent his elbow upset the

milk-jug. "There, now you'll have to order some more milk. Jove, what a pretty girl! Swagger, eh?" 1 " I don't 'think she swaggers a bit." Well, decked out, I meant. 1 bar comic operas, as a rule, but guess 1 must go and hear her." " ou should. She's just as nice olf j the stage as on." And that wan what everybody said. Elsie Derringer's success had not spo'lt her in the least. Her mien was modest, and of the self-consciousness thut is the bane of the ordinary actress tliere •was not a. trace. Her complexion, her smile, her manner—each was natural. Now, by her daintiness of person, refinement of soul, Jjeauty of face and iroice, she was greatly deiighting crowded audiences at the World. Of her private life little, if anything, was • J known, and she preferred it so. : She sat down and drew off her gloves. iAs she placed them on the marble, she noticed that the pretty, but plainlydressed, girl opposite her—it was a table for Wo only—wag blushing furiouslv. People blush tha»t way when they half dread, lralf wish, recognition.

I "Surely I know jour face!"' Elsie •Derringer began. I "Yes, Miss Derringer." There was a BerVous quiver in the voice. "I'm in the chorus at the World." ! JEss Derringer held out her ham! Without a trace of condescension. • ! "Ah, that's it, is it? I'm so glad to Know you. I hope to get to know most of the girls in time. What's your name?" I " Daphne Hiidsdale." ! "I shall remember that name. It's Stteh a pretty name—worthy of the pretty girl to whom it belongs. Have you lad your tea? No? Then we'll s>hv» it together. Waitress, bring a pot \»f tea tor two, please, and a selection of fancy cakes—the best you've got. I'll do the honours, Miss Ridsdale." At first Daphne was shy. She broke up her cake into little ibits, and almost ekoked over her tea. To .be sitting chatting on such easy terms with the artiste—wliat would the other chorusgirls Bay? Soon, though, her diffidence dropped. Miss Derringer had the happy faculty of putting everybody at their ease.

I "Why did you take to the stage?" tasked Miss -Derringer. 1 "When father died, we girls had to iturn out. I chose the stage. 1 simply Wouldn't choose anything else." i "I understand," said Miss Derringer, reading in Daphne's eyes that intense, artistic temperament which draws one >bo the less prosaic walks of life. " You did quite right." The girl coloured with pleasure. "I'm glad to hear you say that. People say such horrid things about the stage."

I "Don't listen to them! We know better, don't wc?" Daphne -thrilled with delight at the coupling of their names. "And have you found the life all you thought it would be?" "Itfc very hard work, but very delightful. I shall never get far up —I've much too small ai voice for that—but it's jolly .being in the chorus at the World, for the men ure nearly all nice, and put such heart into their singing. And then it brings one nearer—him." 1 "Oh, and who's that?" ! "It slipped out before I was aware. I don't know whether I ought to teil you, Miss Derringer. We've kept the thing as secret as we can," 1 "Come! We set out to be friends, didn't we?"

The girl donquered her hesitation. " Well, then—Basil Lavington." Miss Derringer could not suppress a Start. Bhsil Lavington, the leading tenor of the World, the man who nigVtiy held the -stage with her (Elsie Derringer), and poured words of mock passion into her ears, loved by a chorus girl! And not only words of mock passion! Lying in her pocket at this moment, put into her hand by him not an hour ago, was a note full of words of presumably real love for herself, f " You are not engaged ?" "Xo, but there is a sort of understanding between us." ■ "Have you known Mr. Lavington long?" : " Since our first theatrical engagement—in .the provinces. We were both members of the chorus in those days. It's only of late, you know, that tbanks to his gloriou9 voice—he has been promoted to a principal part." Miss Derringer noticed a slight shadow crass the girl's face, a<nd she was not getting on with her tea. • "You ftither regret Mr. Lavington'® proniotion?"

1 "I can't help it at times, Miss Derringer. 'lt's 'horriMy selfish of me, I know, but things are different now. We e£W more of each other then. His place on the stage was usually just behiud mine, and, when we weren't singing, we could whisper such jolly things to one Soother. But that's changed now." ■Miss Derringer drank some tea before speaking again. • "Are you afraid—excuse my asking this question!—that things are not quite the same between, you as they once were I"

• "I Kardly knoiv. Sometimes lam rattier afraid. You see, .lie's getting or. ■0 well in bis profession tbia-t I wonder if I—a mere chorus girl—am quite good eflough for- him. I can never hope fo be anything more, wliibt he " 4 Jfiss Derringer i>6served a gathering jfcear. She stretched acrosg the table, and stroked the girl'w hand. • "See, you are not taking your tea. Have I made it too strong? lust you trust tlfcit all will wine light, Daphne!* fifou don't mind mv calling you Daphne, do you? If 'Mr. hwingtmi is Viw sens-

iWe nam I believe hi in to bv, lie knows wliat a good, brave, little wife you'll make liim. Now, von really must try another of those takes!"

Bliss Derringer sat in her dressingroom at the World Theatre. Her usually smiling face was serious with tbouglrt. Mow could slip show liasil Laving toll that his attentions to lier wert unwelcome, and tlv.it- he must discontinue these protestations of love! How could she send him back to his true and lawful „weetlieart, Dapline Kidsdale?

Suddenly a mischievous gleam lit up Miss Derringer's face. An idea had come—a grand idea. Tliere was writing material at hand. (She drew out a sheet of notepaper, folded it (blank as it was), and slipped it i»to an envelope. After a mowent'i thought she addressed the envelope, "Mrs. Morrison Madden." Then slm summoned the call-boy. : "Jakins, there's a special favour I Wiint you to do for oiie t'o-night."

■ "Yes, mrss." ' Did not Jnkins, in company with all the theatre hands, worship tlx' very ground Elsie Derringer trod on? Would Tie not have gone to the death for her, had it been, necessary? • " Sliml, no one in the theatre to know about it. You promise?" Tlie boy's bosom swelled with pride, i "Faithfully, miss!"

> 'And then'he committed her instructions to memory. ■Before a crowded hous<> the first ait of tlie opera whs in progress. At one point Bnsil Lavington and Elsie Derliinger had to enter aimost simultaneously from the prt»npt «ide._ They were standing together >.i the wings. .liakins 01 me m>- In bis bund was the note that Hiss Derringer bad addressed, on "hw face a ftx>k of deep perplexity. •What an actor. thought Mi* Dernnirer. iha't would hnve made! To a | mere skeleton of a part In* wn« prmnjfi life and .soul. 1 • He walked up to Mr. Lnvington stopped. v "Pot me, my Troy w 'Ko, ?>ir! Rlowed if T know who il w for. he someone ' Wiind,' or I shouldn't tew lw?en given if to deliver."

' me see!" and 15asi! La | fook fthe note .and read the name. i "Etefe Derringer loaned ov:*r j Tjftvingrton's shoulder, and she, 100, thtred at the name.

Basil Laving ton bad got his cue—in j more senses than one. fwo days later Elsie Derringer drove home from a matinee tilled with deep satisfaction. A little incident, unnoticed by anyont else in the theatre, had brought a thnil of pleasuer to her heart. .Vl one point in the opera where the principals had to mingle for a few moments with Hie chorus and pretend to chut with -them, | she found hereelf fitting Daphne Uidsdale. Lut there was no muck conversation between these two. " It's ail right, Miss Derringer, Basil's mine," whispered Daphne, raising a hand crowned with a beautiful engagement ring.

What wonder if Elsie Derringer stumbled a little over the first bars of the next song she had to sing? Ilsr scheme had been successful. And those two would be happy together—she ivas sure of it. Probably pique oil Air. Lavington'a part had brought about this sudden engagement, but pique—with a man—does not last.

" There's a gentleman in the drawing room waiting to see you, miss. He said he preferred to give no name." Of course, another of the claimants for charity that always dog the steps of the popular actress! Miss Derringer sailed into the room with lips as sternly set as sweet lips can be. A young man—a very nicely-dressed young man—put down an album of photographs and rose. "Pardon me! We are strangers, but I think "we ought 'to know one another." I She looked at him. He pulled out of his pocket a copy of an evening paper. '•There's a little paragraph hereabout yourself that may interest you." •She thought she guessed* 'the reason of his call now. you'll excuse me, but I don't wislii to subscribe to a press-tutting agency." He laughed—very pleasantly. " I am not representing one" I merely wanted to show you this. It is something probably that you will like to refute. May I read it aloud? Thank you! ' It is not generally known that Miss Elsie Derringer, the charming actress and singer, is in private Mrs. Morrison Miuldtn.''' But she had snatched the paper from liim.

"Oh, -that's far too ted of Mr. Lavington. He must have put it in, of course. I was poking a little fun at him, and—■ you see, tit was all a make-up on my part. There's no such -person as ill's. Morrison Madden. 1 merely put down the first name that came into my heal.*'' " You are sure the name -was made lip? You don't think you may have read it in the jxapers and then forgot-tin it? It's one of those euphonious combinations of names that " She gripped hard the back of a chair. "Oil, horrors! You are not going totell me that there is a real Mrs. Morrisc:i Madden?" He smiled reassuringly. "Xo, there is 110 , s ueh person. But somebody else is rather intimately concerned with the paragraph. You see, Miss Derringer. I happen to be Mr. Morrison Madden."' 11l its next issue a certain evening paper tendered a profuse apology both to Miss .Elsie Derringer, " tile charming actress," and to Mr. Morrison Madden, " who is making such a name at tlif

liar," for coupling their names together. The blame, of course, was laid at the door of "an untrustworthy correspondent." But coming events do east their shadows before. Onlv last .week the same paper hail a ifaragraph that brought 110 denial. "One of the principal stall-holders at the great theatrical bazaar was that charming actress, Miss Elsie Derringer (Mrs. Morrison Madden). Mr. Madden wis in constant attend;)nee upon her,"