A SOCIETY EPISODE.

Waikato Argus, Volume II, Issue 149, 19 June 1897, Page 1 (Supplement)

A SOCIETY EPISODE.

Maud SCTON is a great friend of mine, but she is undoubtedly frivolous. When I first made her acquaintance she had just emerged successfully from the ordeal of having hid her hair"pu L , up" and very pretty hair it was too, by the way. Therefore I determined that last Sunday I would usurp privileges of an old friend—l always tike a kind of fatherly interest in Maud—and point out to her the errors of her ways. Her behaviour at the Hatherleys the other night was positively scandalous. Her mother was in bed with a headache when I called. " Maud," said I, after the usual formalities, '• I've called to talk to you on a very painful subject. I feel in a parental mood to-day." Miss Maud carefully selected a large lump of sugar from the sugarbasin and offered it to me. "Don't be impertinent?" I said severely. "It was merely symbolical," pleaded Maud, I waived the point, and -Jack, Maud's poodle, absorbed the sugar, " Do you know you havo boon out four years," I began, " tour whole London seasons—this next one will beyonr fifth—and that you aren't married yet!" " I can't —I really can't, Lord Molyneux? It's no goo 1 throwing out "hints. You're too old for me in the first place." It really is very hard to talk seriously to Maud. '• You're a disgrace V 1 protested. " I wouldn't mar " " Now don't bo horrid, or T shall cry 1 I hate having to refuse people 1 she said flourishing an absurd pockethandkerchief, which the poodle eyes longingly. I maintained a dignified silence. It is the only plan I know of subduing Maud when she is in this sort of a mood. Once give her a chance to talk or argue the point and Heaven help you. But silence, dignified silence, reduces her at once. I helped myself to cake, and the poodle, escaping from the sofa, helped himself to a plateful of jam sandwiches, keeping one eye on his mistress the while. Maud glanced at mo furtively once or twice, and looked penitent. (Wo are the best of friends really, but we always quarrel in the first 10 minutes.) I pretended not to notice, and went on with my cake. Presently a subdued lit'le voic3 from the sofa reached me. ' Don't bo unkind, Lord Molyneux. I'll be good," There was a suspicious catch in the voice at the end of the sentence which quite startled me for the minute, f "There, there, it's all right," I said soothingly, and repented it the next instant, as a soun 1 of subdued merriment reached me. " I was positively ashamed of you at the Hatherleys on Wednesday," I continued. " The way you treated that poor young Beverly was—was inhuman. It was svorse —it was improvident. He's got £6OOO a year of his own, and will come into the title when his uncle dies, an d yet you left him standing in a corner the whole evening. You've simply ruined the temper of a naturally well disposed youth. It was awful to see the .vay he glared at you. I nearly sent for the police to avoid a scene." " It was all his fault," she said. •' I see," I replied. " And so you were forced into dancing the whole evening with Allan Dent?" " Only five," interrupted Maud. " Eight, and supper as well," said I. " I counted." "1 really think it was only five," Maud persisted. " Still I suppose you know best, as you took the trouble to count." " You—you—to use a word I detest—flirted disgracefully with him the wholeeveuing ?" " Lord Molyneux ?" protested Maud indignantly. " You did—you know you did ?" I repeated. "I was pained and disappointed to see it. I was quite sorry for the poor boy." Maud looked vaguely surprised.

" He—he—enjoyed himself very much, He told me so." 'Ah! So you admit that you behave badly ?" I said with a triumphant smile. " I don't admit anything at all," replied Maud hastily, " You didn't mean it a bit, did you !" I asked. Maud was silent. " You merely used him as an instrument of torture !" I persisted. The outer corners of Maud's mouth began to curve upwards, and she scratched Jack's left ear meditatively. There was latent wickedness in that smik\ Just at this moment the front door-bell rang, and the sound of voices reached us faintly from the hall. Maud listened intently. I rose leisurely and gathered up my gloves. ■' There is somebody coming," said I. " I shall be off ; it's getting late." Maud seized me by the coat sleeve. " For goodness' sake, don't go she whispered. " It's—it's him !" •' Well ?" said I. •' He'll -he'll be silly if you leave mo alone. I know he will. I had to stop him at the dance, but

01), Lord Molyneux, please sit d<v\n again ?" I laughed. " OoufcoS," said 1, " or I'm off." Maud literally pushed me into a chair. " It was to punish Mr Beverly," she whispered. "He wanted suppressing, and " • " Mr Hallin Dent V sai.l the butler, throwing the door open. The youthful Mr Dent entered effusively ; but, catching sight of me, metaphorically laid hold of himself, and pulled up short. I looked at Miss Seton and smil d, but she was busy making a perfect ly unnecessary and unseemly clatter with the teacups. The youthful Mr Dent looked at me askance, 1 held out my hand. " I believe we have met befoie," I said. " Sutelyyouwereiitthe Hatherleys the other night !" Maud e ist an agonised glance in my direction, which I promptly ignored. " 1 thought it was rather amusing I ventured. " Ripping ?" said the Dent boy unwarily. "That is—er—yes, not at all bad. They played a trifle slow, though, don't you think 1" "I don't know," I replied, " I don't dance myself. Ask Miss Seton she ought to know." If Maud had had it in her power to kill me I believe she would have done it on the spot, and gloated over her crime afterward.';, As it was, faute de mieux, she set herself to snub the luckless Mr Dent unmercifully. " I think," she said deliberately, " it was quite one of the dullest dances I have been to for a long time ; I hey had hardly any men there at all. I saw lots of girls standing out." Now, I really couldn't allow this sort of behaviour. Goodness knows she had treated the unfortunate youth badly enough as it was, He was a trifle foolish, but really quite inoffensive. And it wasn't fair at all. " At any rate you didn't!" I said with emphasis. " You seemed to be having an excellent time." Dent looked grateful, and Jack yelped with pain, owing to the fact that Maud's left heel was slowly grinding his tail into the carpet by way of a safety valve. " Dy the way," I continued. " didn't 1 see young Beverley there 1" " Was he T said Maud, with an elaborate indifference. " I didn't notice," Now, awkward things will happen at times, and the Fates decreed that as Maud spoke I should look over my left shoulder. The principal object in my field of view was Beverley himself, looking just about as silly and uncomfortable as he well could. What had happened I discovered afterwards by judicious inquiry, Beverley was a great friend of the Setons, and hearing that Maud wns in, and that her mother was in bed with a headache, had, to save the butler trouble and for other reasons, signified that it was unnecessary to announce him. That he had overheard the tail-end of the convesation was obvious. •'Oh?" said Maud. "How you startled me ?'' He had, you know, Beverley came forward and shook hands, and the conversation became languidly general. Dent's face was wreathed in beatific smiles. He was enjoying the situation. Bearing in mind the circumstances of Beverley's entrance, it was natural tiiat the atmosphere should be a trifle strained. In the middle of an awkward pause he began fumbling in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. But—and this is unadulterated tragedy—with the handkerchief came a jeweller's case, righly upholstered in dark blue velvet. He made a frantic clutch, and missed it, and it rolled into the open space in front of the tea table and stood on end. There was a breathless silence. Maud turned crimson, positively crimson. It is unkind to say so, because her complexion is naturally a good one : nevertheless she did. Dent glanced alternately at Beverley tho small blue case on the floor. Bever, ly collapsed, and I laughed. I hat-id myself for doing so—it was unkind ; and I have apologised to Beverley since. Still the fact remains I laughed out loud. I couldn't help myself. But there was worse to come, Jack, who, being very young, considers that everything is done for his special amusement, took it into his silly, black, flufly head that there was a new kind of game afoot. With an incipient bark ho pounced from under the tea table, and his sharp white teeth closed on the soft covering. I heard something go with a snap, and then the spring must have given way, for out rolled a magnificent half-hoop of diamonds. It trundled slowly across a yard or two of carpet and disappeared under the sofa, whilst we four stared and watched it go. Jack remained in undisturbed possession of the case, which lie proceeded to gnaw in a business-like manner, growling softly to himself the while. Dent grabbed his hat— which for some unaccountable reason he had brought up into the drawing room, with him —and fled from the house, hardly stopping to say good bye, Poor boy ! 1 was sorry for him. I waited three minutes for conventionality's sake, and then I also left. .1 would have given half my

.Ywu'.-;income :;> s'ay, and I Imp.! (he fact that 1 left i'i •,i when I did will lie com.' ; imong my better deeds. The in xt morning I met .Maud and her mother in Bond street. 11 Well," said 1, -'did he find it ?" Maud laughed and shook her head. " Finding's keepings," she said, and held up a small englovcd hand for inspection. Mrs Seton smiled indulgently, " I hope he will be able to keep her in order better than I can, Lord Molyneux." <: lie will deprive mo of a great deal of amusement if he does," I replied. Mrs S'.'ton looked puzzled ; but then she didn't come down to tea on Sunday—Home Chat.