AT MRS. FAIRFAX DEXTER'S.

Press, Volume LVI, Issue 10266, 8 February 1899, Page 2

AT MRS. FAIRFAX DEXTER'S.

Anna Wkxtworth Sn.vr.s iv Harper's tUzA.tft. j Mrs Fairfax Dexter always received in ' studied obscurity that was illuminated only br candles burning under small shades I and night-lamps with Venetian glass j globes. When Theodore Bowen entered her parlours, on a particularly sunshiny afternoon last winter, be was dazed by the contrast of the dazzling light on the enow of Park Avenue outside, he had just left, to the gloom within, and, assured young man of the world as he was, he had a lew minutes of unaccustomed embarrassment; his name, announced in low but distinct tones by the footman, made apparently little impression on any one, and his hostess's greeting lacked its usual eagerness. With a few words, tactfully gracious, but conveying an unmistakable meaning, she dismissed him from her side to be free to continue the tete-a-tete his entr.-vnee had interrupted, and although, as liis eyes grew more accustomed to the semi-darkness, he understood why. and had to acknowledge that all other claims must give way to diplomacy, he was. nevertheless bored to find himself in a position as uncomfortable as it was unfamiliar. Mrs Fairfax Dexter never.introduced iier visitors, and, strangely enough, Air Bowen could not discover tin acquaintance among Hie little groups of people gathered in the room. After a few minutes of quiet observation he felt, moreover, no particular inclination to have bis ignorance as to their various personalities, enlightened, and they evinced no desire to know him ; but he* must do SBn_*tiiing, so, with conj spicuous unconcern, he walked over to the | fireplace and wanned his hands enthusiastically before the uiaze of the wood logs. This, however, grew uncomfortably hot after a minute or two. and then he took an attitude in front of the Sargent that suggested critical examination. Mr Theodore Bowen was well aware that the famous portrait of his hostess had been exhibited and re-exhibited so many times that everybody who was anybody had been given the opportunity to see it over and over again; anybody who was anyone, also, would be likely to know t_at he especially had been allowed unlimited private views of it, as lie was one of iurs Fairfax Dexter's particular proteges • but what was there better to do? He could, not jump out of the window, nor in any way make a graceful retreat after such a very short stay. But a moment later he heard a name announced that roused him to immediate action. "Good heavens. he reflected, : '-i. am a most opportune victim for old Dicky Downes, who is always lying in wait to grab a listener to one of his interminable yarns;" and in ti-gony at the thought of being sacrificed, Mr Bov.cn. not- of self-sacrificing renown, disappeared hastily through a doorway near by tho entrance into another small drawing-room The ploce in which he found himself when he glanced up wa3 if anything more dimly lit than the other, but there was light enough for him to perceive that he had abruptly thrust his company without much ceremony upon a young woman, who was the only other person there. "Oh, I beg your pardon," faltered Mr Bowen. "I didn't mean to bounce in upon you, but one isn't quite accountable for anything in this twilight. I hope I didn't disturb you." With a gracious little inclination of her head she acknowledged his apology, and answered, politely, "Ok, no, not at all.' There was a pause, Mr Bowen knew she expected him to withdraw, but he hesitated. She was in niuch the came predicament as himself—at least, so he surmised from the interest she had seemed to be taking in the bric-a-brac when ho entered. H-j' ro'iismbercd Dicky Downes, and "why shouldn't he st.iy? Guests under Mrs Fairfax Dexter's roof, if thrown in ' each other's way, of course conversed easily together unintroduced; it was a kind of social camaraderie the occasion warranted, even if the moment after the portals of the house closed on them they were again, unrecognised strangers to each other. "It wrfs quite en regie, that he should talk to the young woman, 'and she looked as if it would bs quite worth while"—so" he reasoned quickly, and spake pleadingly: "I don't want to go back in there; the only person I know is a horrid oure, and I rushed in here to escape him. if I can't stay, we!!—l'm lost: His tone was pathetic. She laughed, and that settkd it. "Oh, don't let mc drive you to destruction!" she exekimed. "I am waiting in lierc fcr some one, because I don't know the people in there cither—this is such a pretty place to wait in, too.' Mr Bowen took her cue with gratitude. "Isn't it?" said he; "and do you notice that every item of the furniture, ornaments and all is of a certain French epoch—so Mrs Fairfax Dexter says—md do you know the story of that clock-over there?" He pointed, as he spoke, to a timepiece that distinctly proclaimed itself a thing with a history, while he thought, 'Anything to make conversation." Her answer indicated that she would be glad to hear the tale. "I'm only a casual visitor to Mrs Fairfax Dexter's, but I know it must be interesting," she concluded. Mr Bowen settled himself comfortably' against the white carved mantel; the candles blinked down on them and lit up the face of his listener, .md showed the outlines of her trim girlish figure. "A bud," decided he, as he gave the recital of how a marciuise *escaped at the time of the "Terror" by means of a note which was conveyed in the works of the clock to atrusty retainer. It was not much of a story, but- the* girl seemed to be interested, and he understood she was appreciative of the notice that he was showing her—Mr Bowen was not apt to undervalue his own worth—and he reflected she- might easily j have heard of him while she was herself unknown. When the tale was finished and he paused, she thanked lum, and commented, "You seem . to know ail tha traditions of the house." "Oh, yes," he answered. "I know this house and its mistress well, and I assure you that means a liberal education; but then," reflectively, "I suppose it's a liberal education to any man to know any woman well." . She couldn't be "out," or he would certainly have heard of her, she was so pretty, was Mr Bowen's conclusion, and he wondered if she were still young enough to grasp at the opportunity he offered for a discussion ; if she had reached the age when presently, after a half-hour's acquaintance, she would feel it her duty to question him about his aims in life and his religious belief. I Apparently she had not.- "Something mignt depend on the woman," she answered, a bit thoughtfully; but she did not "rise to a possible argument at once, and he concluded she was not as forward as most of the youngsters nowadays, yet she was not at ail unresponsive. Their attention was at the moment diverted, .as« some people came into the room. Air Bowen knew them, and he returned the greetings given him politely; but he did not move away from the mantel and his new-made acquaintance. As the others went out again, she looked up at him, and he noticed liow blue and babylike her eyes were; they went well with her general simplicity and the ingenuousness with which she said, "I suppose it argues mc quite unknown not to know you; you seem to know everybody." She had touched a weak spot, although he answered, laughingly: "Yes, I assure you, I'm quite the fashion'; but," growing more daring, "the defect in your education admits of remedy, you know, and," tentatively, "I've been told I could make it very pleasant for a girl, especially when she first comes out.'' She did not deny or assert anything; she was evidently taking- him seriously ; and although, as a rule, Mr Bowen eschewed much intercourse with debutantes and unmarried maidtens, he found himself becoming momentarily more interested. The girl's quiet attention to his remarks left nothing to be desired, and her grave approbation was charming. Youthfully, she let him always take the initiative. He went on: "Yet I'm not always fully appreciated ; for instance, just now our hostess dismissed mc most summarily so that she ' could talk to that portly pork-packing gen*

tleman from the West who is sitting by her. As it turned out, I'm very well satisfied; but don't you think that was rather a damper to conceit —considering the looks of my rival?" She glanced in the direction of the gentleman in question, .and laughingly evaded a direct reply. "I am afraid you are not charitable." Mr Bowen demurred. "Oh, I don't mean anything against our friend over there; and then he has compensations. One can't expect to be a man of power among pork-packers and of influence in the nation, have wealth galore, and, above all, a beauty for a wife, and be good-looking too ; it wouldn't be fair. ' "He is marriea. The tone was slightly questioning. She shook her head prettily. "I am afraid my education for the present will have to remain defective. lam a stranger here, and Igo away to-morrow. I don't know when I shall come back again." Her voice had quite a touch of regret. Mi- Bawen surmised the reason, and was surprised to find he had quite a sensation of regret too, and still more when, as a clock struck musically near by, she started and mado a move towards the doorway. "Does that mean you are going?" he distinctly objected. "But your friend hasn't come yet 1" "No, but I fear I must go nevertheless. I didn't know that it was so late." The unconscious flattery in her words ploased him, and he followed her closely. Why he hadn't even found out _*her name! But alas! as he rexched the entrance, he felt a hand laid on his shoulder and a familiar voice in his ear. "At last here you are, oM man. I thought I'd find you in these parts. There's been a jolly row at the club. Sit down, and I'll tell you all about it." He would have welcomed Jack Devon at any other time, but he tried to shake him off now. 'How rude she would think him, after all he had professed. She might eyen believe he had been making game of her, poor, little, thing!" And while these thoughts wandered through his mind he had only deaf ears for Jack. "T tell you it was great! Dixon swore he'd challenge Mowbury then and there." But Mr Bowen heard never a word; he was struggling with a convenient excuse. " iTes, Jack ; in a minute now. I've " "Oh. bother it! hold on. Pretty soon the club was in an uproar, and—hullo! there's a lot more!" But his unwilling listener was at last free, although he had come- very near leaving a piece of his Poole frockcoat in Jack's grasp. Yet, after all, when Mr Bowen reached the other room he found he was too late... The lady of. his desire was just vanishing out of the door, almost everyone else had gone too, and Mrs Fairfax Dexter had a vacant teat on the sofa by her. Mr Bowen started to go in immediate pursuit; then he recollected himself and his dignity, and ended by taking the place of daparted greatness,,beside ({his hostess. She welcomed him with a smile. "I was afraid you had gone home angry, Teddy," said she, with a lit-tie nod. "No, you can't get rid of mc so easily, you see, he answered, and then added, in a lower voice, "Now that you are at liberty may I stay a little while?" fche acquiesaed. "And tell mc what you have been doing with yourself since you came," she demanded. "Oh, I managed to amuse myself fairly well." He took ~er fan and moved it slowly to and fro in front of them. "You usually do, Teddy. Who was the woman?" He answered in a lazily unexcited voice, "That's precisely what I want you to tell mc, dear mistress of ceremonies, if you will be good ertough to do so." "Tiens! this' grows interesting. Describe her." Mrs Fairfax Dexter's adieux to a parting guest interrupted them, but she returned to him presently. "She was a nice enough little girl," narrated Mr Bowen, "not fully fledged, but simple and suggestive and all that, you know; she had on some quiet kind of a brown drs&s, and she looked, as she was evidently, very yonngr I couldn't place her, so I took it she wasn't out, but it seems she was a stranger,' and he told her some of the details of their meeting and talk. Mrs Fairfax Dexter looked puzzled at first, then intelligent, and finally amused. "Ah, I know now whom you mean!" she exclaimed "Simple, confiding, and all that, eh? Go on. What else did yon talk about?",. "Of course, I had to talk down to her and make talk, but, youngster as she was, she' isn't stupid!" "■* ' ~, "Oh, no, the isn't stupid," commented his- hostess, and he continued to tell her what they had talked about. "And you called the politician and his wife some bad names, did you, and spoke of my little game. Well, Teddy, what else: 'That's about all;' and will you be kind enough to tell mc the rest and let us finish Zier up ;• there are other things in the world, you know, more interesting than little, girls in their teens.'' His glance implied wh-t his words did not say. She ignored the latter part of bis remark. "On the whole, I think it would be more

_mus:ag to lob her tell you herself; and as it nappens she will dine here to-night, will you come a-nd take her in?" His voice was studiedly indifferent, as he answered: "Of course if you want mc I'll come, but don't think I am epris. I'm rather past the age of that with buds." "Oh, yes," she responded. "I understand it amuses you to be a kind of modern Mephi-topneles to innocence and youth, when innocence and youth are attractive enough to make the game worth the candle. It's a role that most men of the world like i to play awhile—not quite to condescend, not quite to patronise, but something very near the border—n'est-ce pas, mon ami?" His tone, as he answered, "As you like," I showed he did not resent her opiuion ; and then, as he saw he had outstayed everyone else, he took leave, promising to be back at eighs <v elect-. "Perhaps she thinks that I can't play at diplomacy too," he soliloquised, is he stood on the doorstep outside lighting a cigar. And she soliloquised inside: 'Oh, Teddy, how transparent you are ,and how ! conceited! You need a lesson. It's mean, but you deserve it!" And she laughed : heartily to herself .alftihough sihe always j declared it was an invitation to wrinkles to do so. Two hours later Mr Theodore Bowen stood in the dressing-room of Mrs Fairfax Dexter's house, adjusting his cravjvt, and surveying his well-cut dress suit with particular satisfaction. Tho tray of small envelopes lay near, hut ho found what "he had expected—only a blank c_rd with tbu crest of the family at the top. The name of his dinner partner "was not written thereon. Mr Bowen. felt pleasurably excited—for him ; a little as he remembered to' have felt some dozen years back, at the dinners he went to when he first left college, and when he thought such functions had not grown wearisome because of surfeit. He had not thought he could ever feel this enthusiasm -again. ■ When he entered the drawingroom be recognised her at once, his friend of the afternoon..; he thought she looked even J younger than before, and infinitely prettier in her evening dress. When he had greeted his hostess he walked directly over to her, and he had a sensation of relief—it was pleasant to find no disappointment awaiting him. Evidently there were more people to come, so he sat down, and she seemed willing to let him monopolise her attention. She had greeted him with the same childlike smile. "You see," he began, "here I am again, and you don't know how much I have been thinking about this afternoon and the plan for your enlightenment." She • smiled, but she did not look unwilling, and he went on boldly; "I have been turning over ways and means: will you listen to the possibilities I want to unfold to you?" He saw that he had her attention, so he did not wait for an answer. v "You will come to New York for a winter with some nice old chaperon, and I'll get you invitations to all the dances, and all my young married friends will ask you to their houses, to little dinners,- and take you in their boxes to the opera, and you'll enjoy it all, of course." 'He paused, while she assented gravely: "It sounds very attractive." "Of course, -I shall be everywhere with the others to see you have a good time, and when the chaperon is taking a comfortable nap just before dinner I will come to call—often—and to repay mc for all that I am going to do for you, you'll let mc stay, and generally you'll give mc the last dance, and let mc take you in to supper at the dances, and when they are all over you'll let mc put you into your carriage and tell mc what a good time you have had." She smiled still encouragingly; she was looking dangerously pretty. Then the butler announced dinner, and they rose; she put her small gloved hand on his arm, and they walked together down the length of the drawing-room to the dining-room beyond. When they had taken their seats at the table Mr Bowen perceived that he would not have a chance to say anything quietly to her just then; the lady on the other side of him was not talking to her partner, and he knew she was listening. If his attention was not immediately engaged she might even turn to him, so he? hastened to engage his little friend she was pulling the long glove off her right hand, and was looking around the table with an air of interest. * He grasped at any subject. "So our big man of this afternoon is here also; and, like yourself, he is a stranger, so that you have a bond in common." "Yes, and there is another little bond between us', too," she said, drawing the «love off her left hand and smiling up at him with her innocent baby-blue eyes. "I am his wife."