The Ivory Lodge,

Evening Post, Volume LXXI, Issue 142, 16 June 1906, Page 10

The Ivory Lodge,

" What a shame it will be," said Cecilia, "if all this horrible education spoils these people and makes them, just like everybody else I wonder." j she prattled on, " which will be our way to Wickham Station. We must ask aomo one." The Green, with its fringo of low redroofed cottages, was desprted say« on the side- open to the spa, where, against the ancient wooden railing which crowned the cliff, a broad rotund figure leaned, peacefully smoking, the rich brown of his raiment contrasting very pleasantly with the blue above and behind him. "Let's ask this one," ?aid Cecilia. He seemed steeped in profound meditation, and the tall conical hat of rusty black felt which he wore, its brim pulled down in front any up behind, lent to his musings an air of eccentric wizardry, so that for a moment I hesitated to disturb him. Cecilia, too, whoso managing instinct will often assert itself evpn in such a trifling matter as asking the way, was daunted. " You ask him," she 'vhispered. "Could you tell us the way to Wickham Station?" I began, not without some apprehension lest the frail and ancient prop which supported him should give way, and he vanish backward over the cliff before w© could obtain the information we sought. T n the midst, however, of his profound abstraction he had noted our approach, and, regardless of my question, must first deliver himself of the thoughts thereby inspired. So the round tanned countenance, encircled with whiskers as with a sable halo, spread into a friendly prin, the little eyes twinkled, and he spoke : " Artitrnoon, sir; sarvice, mum," then sank ■ again into a beaming silence. "Good afternoon," I replied ; '' 1 wonder if you could tell us the best way to Wickham Station?" The sage removed his pipe, spat thoughtfully, and, looking earnestly firs'l at the sky, proceeded to take in the green, the cottages, and the marshes beyond in a searching and comprehensive gaze. Cecilia grew visibly impatient — like others of her sex she can neither understand nor appreciate deliberation. Haying surveyed heaven and earth to his> satisfaction, the sage bethought him of us. " Wickham -Station was you wantin', sir?" murmured he, as one brought face to face suddenly with a knotty point. Cecilia could refrain no longer. "We want to go to Station, please," she said a little sharply, as though our friend were indeed a magician who could, an' he pleased, deposit us there with a wave of fits hand. But he was still pondering. "Wickham Station, sir, thet's a mortial long way." ' Yes," I urged, " but could you tell us how to get there?" "Six miled surely, or would that be seven miled?" cante the slow reply, in the tone of one courting friendly argument. "Yes, but ." "Thet's six miled good by Hinter Mill," he ruminated (this was, I perceived, hut thei deliberate weighing of fact against tact, common with the contemplative mind), " but thet'll be seven miled by tho Ivory Lodge ; thet'll be a longer way altogether." "By the whnt," echoed Cecilia, in amazement. " The Ivory Lodge, miss, wheer tho lordship live, leastways he don't live — not hisself." , "' But why is it called that?" queried Cecilia. " 'Cos of the ivory, miss." " But where is the ivory — can one see it?" "Lor, yis, mum, thet's all outside— bootiful." "It must be indeed," gasped Cecilia, "how very curious. Is it old? We've never heard of it before," "Taint out o' the way old, miss," replied the sage, gratified at our evident interest; "why, thet wur a-buildin' time my pore father wur a lad." " I suppose the ivory suffers rather from the weather nnd the climate," went on Cecilia. Her curiosity was now thoroughly aroused, and small wonder. Was it not Kin? Ahab who built himself an ivory house, and now the lordship (by which, as I suppose, was intended the noble owner of the suirounding acres) had erected an Ivory Lodge — a pleasant conceit, near akin to that Ivory Gate through which the sweet dreams come. " Dew thet suffer, miss — not as I've heerd on — yer see weather come nat'ral to ivory, same as to you/an' me, miss, I s'pose." "I 6ee, yes/of course; how very interesting," said Cecilia, who had now taken the management of the interview into her own hands for better or for worse. "Is it much further by the Lodge — could we find our way?" "Vis, surely," replied the sage. " I niver heerd o' any one pertickler anxious to see it afore, but thet's a wun nerful nice little place." But Cecilia had decided that we must see the marvel, if it took us a hundred miles out of our road. "" Goo acrost then! meshes, sir," continued oui informant, " an' through tho black gate, an' thet'll take yer right out on to the pike, an' then bear away to yer left as straight as you c;m no ; yer can't miss it. Them's a wholly pretty little,- place." It wns not surprising that Cecilia chould feel elated at the prospect. Apart from the present gratification of beholding this, the eighth wonder of tho world, it would form a splendid topic for conversation hereafter. Cecilia is, in her own circle, quite renowned for happy descriptions. I could almost hear her, "You can't .imagine how exquisite it looked, with the sunlight on it — all that beautiful sort of dead white, you know, and the deep blue sky, and the fleecy cloudlets ." think," interrupted the actual voice of Cecilia, " how deliciously absurd these peop'.e arc They wouldn't excite themselves a bit if somebody were to build a house of silver and gold in the middle of that green." Then, after a little pause, " What a ridiculous man ho was-^-so solemn about it, too. 1 Seven miled,' ho said. I nearly screamed. Oh, I do hope these people won't get spoilt by board-schools and thintfs." We had plenty of time ; so Ceoilia, as is her custom whan she thinks of it, fell to picking flowers. This distressed me not a little, for, as a rule, she soon gets tired of carrying them, and hands them over to mo ; but 1 did not remonstrate, feeling that it would be ungracious, by any 6uch proteat, to mar her delight in the great discovory we wero about to make. The sun was near its. setting as wo emerged through tho black gate on to the "pike," or turnpike rouu. It was certainly quite a pretty road, with woods on t h side, and now and again a glimpse of tho green marsh levels and the sea rising like a blue wall beyond. Hut Cecilia had no oyea for the view ; she was peering eagerly anionß the trees for the strange palace of this modern Ahab. Wo passed a great ruinca church, with a massive tower, half-hidden in ivy._ "What a dear old place I", sairl Cecilia, but sho would not stay to look at it ; there were greater marvels on hand. Presently came a pretty row of thatched cottages, neatly numbered 391, 392, 393, and so on, for all the world as if they were part and parcel ot some long London street. "How ridiculous !" exclaimed Cecilia, and wo pressed on. A ruined ivy -clad gateway came next, with a little house at the side. "Oh, how exquisite 1" said Cecilia, though what could be seen of tho ruin was clearly coeval with tho house. "What a perfect little sketch!" Next came some weary stretches of clipped hedgerows, with an occasional lopped tree, till the road rose steeply to a bridge, whence, looking down, wo saw the railway and the station. "I can't think how we've missed it," said Cecilia, crossly, giving me the flowers .to hold., ''Wb must havfi comg thfi .

wrong way " Ab she entered the book-ing-omce ( dejectedly, I placed the flower* under the ivy which half concealed tht station's classic portico, and followed "I can't think how we've- missed it,' said she, really annoyed. "Ho said 'go through the black gate .' " I was aware of a voice at my elbow. "Askin' yer pardon, sir, but you dropped these ere. ' "Oh, my beautiful flowers !" cried Cecilia ; "thank you very much." "Just picked 'em up, mum," pursued the porter, "under the- ivory." "Under the what?" faintly ejaculated Cecilia. "Under the ivory, mum," said the porter, in alarm, pointing to the fatal" spot where I had laid my burden. "For all that," I remarked, when we were safely in the train, "it will be a preafc pity if these people get spoilt by board schools and things." But Cecilia did not seem to hear — Rudolf Pickthall, in St. James's Budget.