IN & ABOUT LONDON.

Evening Post, Volume LXXX, Issue 4, 5 July 1910, Page 16

IN & ABOUT LONDON.

AN OLD SINGER REAPPEARS. LORD AND LADY ISLINGTON. (By Mrs. Malcolm Ross.) Spring has come with a rush, and th& trees — bare only a fortnight ago — are fledged with leaves, crimson with buds, or snowy with blossoms. On the commons, the may-trees — large enough here to shelter under — are in bud, and the blackthorn blossom — something like our manuka — is in full beauty. Motoring down to Brighton, over an enchanting road, full of curves and surprises, trie primroses wero thick 'in the hedges, and lay under the trees like sheets of pale gold. Not only primroses were th,ere — the anemones and- violets were coming out in blossom, and tall mauve flowers they call milkmaids rose here and there among the grass. Every cyclist had a button-hole bouquet of primroses, each girl a nose-gay, and at one place we passed a' motor-car whose occupants — smart men and pretty girls — were all busy gathering wild flowers. On my return the other day from a delightful week in Paris with Madame Melba — of which more anon — we passed, from Dover, through miles 'oi) cherry and apple trees in full blossom, and the wild flowers and woods were something never to forget. "■ The road* from Crawley to Brighton is the old coaching road, in perfect condition, and ideal for motoring. It passes through quaint little villages, with queer moss-grown cottages, by old manor-houses — some still with- moats around them — and the most picturesque of wayside inns. In one, the , village well, covered with a wooden penthouse, still stood in the centre of the tiny square. In Sheffield Park the deer were feeding, and at Boluy there is the remains of an old castle, arches and towers and battlements, all draped with ivy. The English • people 1 meet hero are immensely amused at my craving to sea old buildings and to learn ,the romantic or historical associations of places. I have to explain constantly that, though New Zealand is an ideal country to live in — with a few trifling drawbacks — it is too new to possess glorious traditions. H-ere on all sides is romance, history, and even superstition, and after all the commonplace and corrugated iron of the colonies, ghosts and moss-grown shinglesare a refreshing change. In my sister's house, -where I spent the week-end, there is a ghost, but no one seemed to worry. Indeed, not far away is a .moated grange with sewn ghosts, and the occupants are really Tather proud of them! Our particular spirit .was that of a highwayman, who prospered so exceedingly in his calling on the - Heath where the house stands that heibuilt this fine mansion two hundred years ago. • He must have been a man of taste, for the situation and grounds are exquisite. Eventually, however, he was caught and hanged on one of his own trees — I was shown the tree, so the tale must be true — and his ghost wanders up and down the winding stairs and in and out the fine rooms, probably seeking for some excitement, and weary of these days when a poor highwayman has no chance to live. The children who play in the gardens have great tales of buried booty, and there. is known to be a secret underground passage opening out some miles away, by which he used to make a hurried escape. There is a pond in front of the house — with a tiny island, od which stands a crumbling figure of Father Time—that it has been suggested to have dragged. But the owner wisely refuse*. The gardens round tho house are f-plendid— fruit trees trained on old brick walk— and. the estate contains not only croquet and tennis lawns, but also a golf links of eighteen holes. AT BRIGHTON. A etrong wind was blowing at Brighton, giving a glimpse of the very latent in hose,, and causing much trouble with the large, wide-brimmed hats,- which at present are of such proportions that an affectionate farewell between, two "iris who wore such headgear was one of the moat humorous incidents of the day. The only way by which, their lips could meet, and (that was discovered after several ineffectual trials, was by one putting her head on one side an<d getting her hat-brim «t right angles to the other's. At Brighton, though there were crowds of smart people down from London — Sunday is ( the day there- for actresbes — there were no very wonderful toilettes in evidence. On© of the prettiest persons ."trolling along the parade was Ellaline Terris— Mrs Seymour Hicks — with her winsome face set in the folds of a bright bin© chiffon veil. She was walking beside her dear little girl, who was riding in a tiny goat-carriage, and who is entirely charming, with big dark eyes and long yellow curls. Brighton is full of memories and associations. There is ithe hideous pavilion, built by King George for a court, and now relegated to the baser function. of a music hall. It is of mongrel architecture, with Moorish minarets anfd Hindoo cupolas, quite put of ha-rmony with the peaceful English scenery in which it is set. Then there is thl Old Ship Inn, where Thackeray sent.-George and Amelia, for their 'honeymoon. On Brighton sands, too, the. "artful Becky laid in wart for Miss Briggs while the la>tteT was bathing, m order to try and make peace 'with Mrs. Crawley. The quaint, tall, bow-windowed houses alom.c: the Esplanade have seen a good deal of real life in the past century, and though, after one visit— when the residents, in their faryeut^ patriotism, mobbed her — Queen Victoria never went ito Brighton again, the King now often goes there, awd the place is therefore regaining its ancient, prestige. But the- sea is not our sea. Rarely is it blue, and then a diill pale blue. Genei-ally it is grey, with a hint of gneen. But the curving line of tall houses amid hotels — stretched on either hand as- fax as <the eye cam see — is picturesque. Tucked away behind the more pretentious houses and hotels, there is 'the quaintest building, with little gable windows on. a sharplysloping, shingled roof, and tiny bow windows jutting out from either side of a door. This, as the legend in Old English on the roof states, is Ye Olde Bunn Shoppe, aud is of gjreat age, and still famous for its buna We took over tea. vi the huge bay-window of the old Albion Hotel, the most charming , of hcstelries, with an aged waiter, who has been there from time immemorial, and with delightful music accompanying the chatter and the elwttei" of china, and. silver. ' Then horne — as Pepys says — through the primrose lames and old-time villages, over ithe breezy downs, amd back to Orawley, with a thunderstorm chasing the motor. These sudiden Mornis have been frequent of late. One caught nife is the Slirand. and for half an. hour I stood, with other wayfarers, in a. doorway, watching the waiter streaming dovrn and the people ,scarry£ng .along. There are no friendly verandahs in London. Afterwards I noticed I had found a haven in the portico of Coutt*/ Bank, where, I wa-s iold, King Edward draws his modest cheque*. SANTLEY SINGS. Santley was the hero of the afternoon at a splendid jubilee concert given last week by Mr. Henry Bird, and this though the programme was a least of fine music by the very best performers. On© expects a treat when Ada Cro«l«jy- afid*

Agnes Nicholls, Kennerley Rumford, Ben Davies, and Plunket Green sing; and they wero all in excellent form, inspirited no doubt by the magnificent audience that crowded the great Queen's Hall. But, enthusiastic as was the reception each got, a wilder greeting was reserved for the old singer, whose voice has triumphed marvellously over his years and frailty. Cheers and shouts were heard as he came on, somewhat bent and pathetically white-hair-ed, and his recitative and aria from Handel was followed by tumultuous applause. The old man was touched. His music shook and his lips trembled, as he bowed. When an encore w-as imperative, more than one in the audience felt tears spring to the eyes as he sang, with a passion that shook him visibly and a wonderful force and sweetness, "To Anthea." ' It was a great triumph, but intensely pathetic. Ada Crossley, who is looking charming, and is in delightful voice, is very busy, and sings at five concerts this week. She wore a most wonderful gown of faintest mauve satin with touches of soft' blue, and her wide black hat ,was piled with shaded blue plumes. A charming soprano, Miss Florence, was in a blush rose satin gown tied so tightly round her knees that she could only '"'toddle along," like the "Three Little Maids from School." ,OUR NEW GOVERNOR. The many guests who attended the reception given by the High Commissioner in honour of our new Governor were charmed- with him. Aa for Lady Islington, she is most attractive, with delicate colouring, masses of dark hair, lovely dark eyes, and a brilliant smile. She is girlishly slim, and her' frock was of costly simplicity, the softest white satin with the t bodice draped with filmy net, the tiny sleeves held up by ribbons, tassel-eiided, of diamonds, and the soft corsage folds fastened with splendid diamond ornaments. In addition, she wore a beautiful diamond necklace " and a most becoming tiara, like a low crown of flowers. She does not leave till July — there are matters concerning their picturesque country, home to be arranged — but she is keenly anticipating the pleasures of her new home. The delights of sport and camping-out have always appealed strongly to her, and. she looks forward to thoroughly enjoying the same delights in New Zealand. Her only daughter is a charming girl in her early teens. The affair was altogether most enjoyable, Mr. and Mrs. Hall-Jones making an ideal host and hostess. The music of a splendid band was to be heard — by those who listened — above the babel of voices. But, indeed, there were so many greet ings and meetings — some of friends who thought each other sixteen thousand miles away — that few had time or inclination to listen. Mr. and Mrs. Christie — Mr. Hall-Jones' son-in-law and his wite — helped the Misses Hall-Jones to look after the guests. The High Commissioner seemed very fit, and was in the -Uest of spirits, with a cheery and appropriate word for everyone. Lord Kanfurly, who, with others, had been to the lecture given by Peary — who cannot approach- Shackleton in that role — was there, welcoming old friends, and Major Alexander's" cheery face — not a day older — was also^to be seen. Lady Ranfurly was not very well — a touch of influenza — and Lady Aileen had gone into the country, refusing all invitations for a time on account of the death of her old nurse, to whom she was deeply attached. Many Wellington, folk will remember when Lady Aileen was a small girl and allowed to come into the ballroom for a little while, how the old nurse used to stand beckoning her reluctant charge to come to bed, and how tho small lady used to run and hide so as to stay up a little longer.