A BRIGHTON ELOPEMENT.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIV, Issue 2742, 8 February 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

A BRIGHTON ELOPEMENT.

Thirty years ago Mr Stuart Sfcarcher had been a notorious young man about town ; he effected to be a 1 notorious young man about town etill. Sinco he began to sow his wild oat 3 three generations of youth had come, sown theirs, and gone ; but he continued gaily scattering , crop after crop, and imagining , all the while that the world regarded him still as the same wild young fellow as he was of yore.

He himself half believed ho was. It is true there were some evidences of elderliness to which he could not be altogether blind ; but he hated the sight or thought of thorn, and spared himself no effort to hide them from his eyes and drive them from his mind.

Of these evidences, of course, the most obvious were the proofs of maturity, let us say, which his own person displayed. When he rose in the morning and looked in his glass he could not but say that his face was wrinkled and his hair was thin. When he took his afternoon stroll in the Park he felt only too painfully that his step lacked lightness, and his figure drooped. These and such-like unpleasant "finger-posts" he contrived to conceal, as he thought, if not from himself, at least from the world. His toilet, it is true, made an immense demand upon the skill of his valet and the resources of art; but when it was completed, he flattered

himself that he was to all outward appearance as youthful as many men thirty years his junior.

Having thus in exterior renewed his youth, it was his delight to spend his afternoons and nights with ' the boys. . There was something pathetic in the feffbrts which he made to do as these sturdy young roysterers did. He would stroll with them in the Row, drink with them at the Cri., gamble with them at the club, shuffle to the theatre ' to mash' with them the ladies of the stage, until he was ready to drop with fatigue. All the time he imagined that the lads took him for one of themselves. He forgot .that there were few of them who had not heard their fathers talk of 'old Starch," tell of hie elopement some twenty years ago with poor wealthy Mias Cash, wonder what had become of the child of that marriage, and laugh at the old fogey's affectation of youth. Of course they, like everybody else, knew and saw what he was, though politeness may have kept them from hinting to him of their knowledge. Occasionally, indeed, someone, when annoyed by his jokes, or made silly with wine, did tell him the truth, but such behaviour Mr Stuart Starcher never forgot and never forgave. You might tease him and laugh at htm as mucli as you pleased about anything , else, but he considered it a downright insult to mention his age. There wae just one point upon which Mr Stuart Starcher acknowledged tho effect of years, and that was on the point of worldly wisdom. He not merely admitted, but he boasted of, the width of his experience and the profundity of his knowledge of men, women, and things. Every possible trouble or difficulty a man about town could get into, he had been in. He had been in love and debt, hard hit at cards, and threatened with the Divorce Court; he had eloped with an heiress, been in scrapes with the ladies, and had fought a duel. Every conceivable adventure he had, according to himself, come through, as he proudly declared, without as much as a scratch. He was as vain of his astuteness as he was ashamed of his age. On this great fund of wisdom and experience he was always ready to draw for the benefit of his young friends when any of them got into trouble; it was the

only fund he was ready to draw Mpon. He was at least as rich as he was wise, but he was as prudent with his money as he was prodigal with his advice. As he used to Bay, he did this on principle ; he stuck to his money because if he did not somebody else would, but as to his advice he could offer it freely, because he knew nobody would take it. In this observation he scarcely did himself justice, for his advice was not only often taken but often sought, and among those who most-needed and sought it was one of his youngest and most intimate 7 friends, the Hon. Frank Terrington, The Hon. Frank was a true Terrington; that is ho was most of his time in high spirits and low company, and he was happily blessed with many friends, many follies, and many debts. He was never long out of trouble, and did not seem to care much to be so. He was not on good terms with his father; no Terrington ever was. . . , The - Hon. Frank was the favourite nephew of a very wealthy old aunt. That was all he.had to live on, yet fora long time, with the aid of Jews and post-obits, he contrived to live on it very well. Bat one fine morning what ehould the wealthy old aunt do but go and get married 'The first intimation of this horrible example of feminine thoughtlessness, which poor Frank had was the announcement of her wedding in the morning papers. He read the shameful intelligence with a. throbbing brow, His aunt had callously takon from him his only livlihood, for now his credit, like Othello's occupation, was gone. As was his habit when in trouble, he went and . consulted Mr Stuart Starcher. What was ,to „be done, that was his question. " Done 1" exclaimed Mr Starcher, with his youthful manner but shaky voice. "Done! Why, my boy—my poor boy, you must marry. This alternative, this resource is a fearful one to have to tall back upon, I know ; but, by Jove, when a fellow's stohebroke there's, nothing else for it!"

" Bub who would have me ?" asked Frank. "Before my aunt married I might have had a chance of marrying a fortune. I had prospects then ; but now, when I've nothing but a bad reputation and big debts——"

"Confound- the reputation," said Mr Stuart Starcher, in a most decisive manner, " and blow the debts ! I speak deliberately, and not, as you might imagine from the turn of my periods, without consideration. Frank, my boy, I weep for you. I thought you were a lad of spirit and resource; but I was wrong—very wrong."

"Oh, cut this chaff, man, and be serious," replied Frank, a little nettled by Mr Stuart Starcher's buffoonery over his distress. "I'm ready to marry money if I can get a chance, but how am I to get" it? Everybody worth anything in town knows me and will have nothing to do with me. How am Ito marry money if money won't marry me ?"

"But it will, Frank," said Mr Stuart Starcher ; " mark mo, it will, if you only follow ray advice. I know what I'm talking about, I can tell you. Now, listen. I never meant you to try the game on in town ; as you say, you and your position aro too well-known here to permit you to carry on operations successfully. But town's not everywhere ; when you know a little more you'll know that, There are other places where you and your position are not known, and where money—any amount of money—is to bo picked up. Did you ever hear of Southport, Scarborough, Brighton ? Why not go to one of these places, take up your abode in the best hotel, and let it be known that you aro the Earl of Roughshod'sson; then search out the richest merchant's or manufacturer's daughter, become acquainted with her—there aro scores of ways of doing that, subscription balls, tables d'hote and such like ; make up to her, and if the old people object to your suit run away with her ? It's the easiest thing in the world, I assure you, to a man of some birth, appearance, and outenesa. I did it myself years a%o. I was quite a boy then, and I hadn't the benefit of good advice liko you, but then, you see, I always knew my way about. Nobody ever out-witted Charlie Stuart Sfcarcher, I can tell you."

" I never looked at the matter in this light," said Frank, in a reflective way. " Well, now that I have given you the idea," replied his guide, philosopher and friend, "do look at it. I'll give you any little tips I can, and mind I can give you every tip worth the knowing. If yon want to humbug the old people, or to carry off the girl, just let me know, and I'll put you on the proper track."

"By George," exclaimed Frank, "it would be worth trying, if only for the fun of the thing. But it would cost money, and I'm devilishly hard up just now, and there's no uae going to the Jews."

The old dandy heard this with a leer ; he had no intention of lending Frank anything but the use of his wits.

" Oh, it won't cost much, my boy," ho answered. "You have plenty of jewellery. You can raise enough on the third of it to do the whole business if you get to work at once."

The Hon. Frank went away apparently a trifle hurt at what he considered the callousness of his reply. But Mr Stuart Starcher did not care. He knew the value of money as hn said, and tho value of friends, and when it camo to choosing between them—well, ho did not part with the money. For some time Mr Stuart Starcher heard or saw no more of the Hon. Frank. What had become of him the superannuated fribble did not know, and again he did not care. He was too much used to seeing his friends "go under,' as hf) called it, to be particularly moved by the collapse and disappearance of ono of them. About six weeks had elapsed, when one afternoon Mr S. Starcher was surprised by the Hon, Frankj walkiug into his room.

" Hillo ! Is that you P" he said, rather coldly. " What have you been up to this long time ? Gad, I had nearly forgotten you." "Ob," replied Frank, "I have been carrying out your advice." " Indeed ?" said Mr Starcher,'becoming interested. " And how have you succeeded ?"

" Splendidly," replied Frank. "Eh ? You don't mean it ?' cried Mr Starcher springing to his feet and clasping Frank's hand warmly. 'By Jove, I congratulate you, my boy. Is she a big catch—a regular sea serpent ? Who is she, my boy? And is everything settled ?"

"Not so fast, Starch," said Frank, laughing, "not so fast. To answer shortly, she is a big catch and everything is settled—as least, so far as she and I are concerned. What the papa will say is a different matter, but we don't intend to consult him." "Oh, it's a runaway business, is it ?" " Yea ; I'm afraid, it must bo." " Why, this is delightful!" cried the old man enthusiastically. " You can command me, my boy, don't forget that. But, some, tell us all about it. Who is she? Where did you fall in with her." "At Brighton. I went there and did as you advised me. And, at one of the Pavilion balls I fell in with her." "I know,"' said Mr Stavcher, with a wink, "in love with her pile." " No, seriously and truly with horsolf," answered Frank, earnestly. " She is a charming girl. Oharming onongh to turn any fellow's head if she hadn't a farthing."

"But she has several, eh?" said Mr Stuart Starchor, with another wink and sly leer.

" Oh, yes, she's heir to all her father hap, and besides she is entitled on coming of age to a considerable fortune under her mother's will." "That's the sort ©f thing, my boy, that's the sort of thing. You ought to let me go halvoa with you for giving you such good advice, 'pon my word you ought. That shows you, my lad, that • when you want a Wrinkle you oannot do better than come to old Starch ; he's as ;oute as they make them. But what is she? A manufacturer's daughter." " No," replied Frank, with a slightiy troubled look, "that's just the diffiulty. The fact is, she's the only child of a man I know pretty well, and from whom I have received many kindaesses." " Well, you see, it seems to me that to run away with a friend's daughter ie rather a shabby return for his kindness to yon. In fact, it seems hardly honourable."

"0h,.0h!" cried Mr Starchor, with a loud laugh, "is that all ? Well, you are a ninny ! You don't mean to say yau. let that disturb your'mind V "I'm afraid I Frank, gloomily. " vVell, you're a fool for your pains." " But, undor the circumstances, would you run off with her ?" "Of course I would." " I'm glad you say so," eaidJFrank, in a relieved tone, " because the feeling that I was about to play a friend a mean trick has worried me greatly of late, and made me think more than once of giving tho whole thing up." "If you gave it up," said Mr S. Starcher, emphatically, "for no better reason than that, I should think you fit for nothing but a lunatic asylum," The Hon. Frank was silent for a moment. Then he said, " There's another point on which I want to consult you. She's not yet of age, and I'm afraid the father might prosecute me for carrying her off; I believe he could."

" Yes, I suppose he could and would, too," replied Mr Starcher, '• if he caught you while his blood was up. But you should take her abroad, and remain out of hia reach for a month or two."

" But that would cost money," objected Frank, "and neither she nor I have any just at present. It will be very different, of course, when she comes of age." "Oh my dear boy," said Mr Stuart Starcher, magnificently, "don't trouble about that. Didd't I tell you you might command me ! How much would do you ? Would £500 be enough ?'' Here, again, in offering a loan now, as in refusing a loan, beforo Mr Stuart Starcher acted on principle. As he used to say, no right-mindjgd man should ever lend to a friend who was goina , down in tho world, but when the friend is goinjr up there can be no objootions on moral grounds to assisting him, and there are none on economical grounds, as you arc sura to get your money back.

"You're extremely kind," replied Frank ; " most'kind. Yes, £500 would be just about the tiling." " Here's a cheque then," said Mr Starcher, at once filling one up for tlie amount. "And now, as an old friend, may I know the lady'a name ?" Frank shook his head.

"Sorry," he said, "very sorry, but I really can't tell you. I promised her I would tell no one."

" Ob, but between friends, you know. It shan't go an inch further, I'll swear!" "Confound it!" answered Frank, hastily. "Am I to owe no honour to anybody? To deceive her father is bad enough, but am I not to keep faith with her ?"

" Who can she be ?" wondered Mr Stuart Starcher.

" You needn't trouble your mind, for you would never guess," said Frank. "By tho way, I hope to carry her off tho day after to-morrow."

" That's right; lose no time," said the old beau ; "and be sure you telegraph and let me know the moment the marriage is over."

After a word or two more, the young man wrung his old friend's hand', and left to carry out the projected elopement.

From that moment Mr Stuart Starcher was in a case of high excitement. There was to be a great scandal in the fashionable world, and he was wild to have his name mixed up with it, He was eager to be tho first to communicate tho intelligence of it to ' the boys , ' Fearful of being anticipated in this, that very evening , he cast out to them dark hints about Frank which perplexed and interested them. The next day he made his hints a little plainer, and when, on the morning , of the third day, Frank's telegram reached him, he took it about among his friends, and exulted in their amazement. Hβ had to pretend that he knew who the lady was, but that, for occult reasons, he daren't tell them ; but he did not fail to dwell on tho fact that Frank throughout had consulted him, and that it was by the aid of his money that the elopement was effected.

The next day, just as Mr Starcher, after his elborate toilet and scanty breakfast, was preparing to go out, who should bo shown into his room but Frank's brother, the Hon. Jack Tcrrington. " Well," said Jack, after the usual salutation, "I hear you know all about Frank's last escapade ?" " Well, yes I do," said Mr Stuart Starcher, complacently. 'I think I have done something to help him to a fortune" ' Yes, so it would appear," answered the Hon. Jack, looking at a letter which he took from his pockot. "Do you know who the lady ia ?" "Well, yes," said Mr Starcher, hesitatingly, " but I promised not to tell." "Ju-t look at that, ,, replied Jack, tossing- tho old dandy a letter in Frank's handwriting. " The whole town is laughing over you and it." Mr Stuart Starcher took it and read the message. "The blackguard!" cried Mr Stuart Starcher, springing furiously to his feet. "By heavens, I'll prosecute him !" "Don't you think," asked the Hon. Jack, quietly, "don't you think that you've made a big enough fool of yourself already ?" And, on reflection, Mr Stuart Starcher thought he had.