SHORT STORY.

Lake County Press, Issue 2184, 29 August 1907, Page 7

SHORT STORY.

Her Revenge,

By G. B. BURGIN. Author ul : “ ‘ Old Man's ’ Marriage.” “ Fortune's Footballs,” &c.

[COPYRIGHT.]

CHAPTER 1.

The office of “ Top Lights ” was situated-, -in direct contradistinction to its name, on the first floor of a palatial mansion in Fleet-street. For the modest sum of fourpence, “ Top Lights ” provided that enthralling information as to the movement of the “ Beau mondc ” which is so dear to the hearts of people whose mission in life is to look on from afar and to picture Heaven as a place where everyone gets ten thousand a year and no grates to blacklcad on Sunday mornings. Its information as to the doings of well-known people was simply marvellous. Did a noble dame dream of running away with her groom on Monday, by Tuesday her husband knew all about the contemplated elopement through the medium of “ Top Lights.” Similarly, if the cases were reversed and a man “in society ” thought of casting in his lot with one of those delightful stage ladies whose mission it is to amuse people already more than sufficiently elevated, beneficent “ Top Lights ” threw a strong glare of publicity on the case, and furnished such amusing details that the project fell through. But all at once the information of “ Top Lights ” began to lose the charm of accuracy. People could no longer rely on it, and matters were becoming serious, for the circulation fell off with alarming rapiditv.

The reason which transpired was that a man who went everywhere and wrote with remarkable point and skill had been cut at a ball and requested not to call at his host’s house any more. II is offence was that he had written a perfectly innocuous paragraph about the ball. “We do not,' 1 said his host, “propose to know people whom we receive as guests, only to find that they earn dishonest halfcrowns by making ‘ copy ’ of our proceedings. We shall have much pleasure in providing you with half-crowns provided you give up writing for society journals.” Whereupon the paragraph writer had reformed and died of grief at having committed such an error.

After his death “ Top Lights ” lost its strongest prop, until the editor hit upon the happy idea of employing as paid members of his staff all the ladies’ maids of great people whom he could get to commence such an arduous literary career.

For a time the scheme went well. Unfortunately, however, the ladies’ maids could not write as fluently as they talked. Their information set down in black and white was singularly pointless and inaccurate. It required much personal sifting and examining as to details, until the spectacled sub-editor of “ Top Lights ” at length hit upon the happy idea of receiving the ladies’ maids every Monday morning - , one at a time, and writing the paragraphs red-hot from their fair lips. He was a young man, and sometimes became confused at the airy lightness of details which were given him by his fair informants; but, by dint of having the office boy to chaperon him, and sitting in a dark corner, he got through his weekly task, though not without many blushes. He was a young man with a strong tendency to the ministry, had not Providence ordained otherwise. So he wrote the paragraphs every week, although inwardly occupied with a new theory concerning the Mosaic Dispensation, which was far more interesting to him than all the backstairs tittle-tattle ever penned. But one Monday morning a new ladies’ maid appeared at the office of “ Top Lights,” with a bcwitchingly pretty figure. Her face could not be seen, as she wore a veil. The subeditor nervously played with his pencil, and forgot himself far enough to wish that the corner in which he received were not quite so dark. He noticed also, for, unlike most subeditors, and in spite of his spectacles, he was an observant young man, that as the interview proceeded, her grammar and pronunciation improved with marvellous rapidity. As she was the last of all, the sub-editor crumpled up his paragraphs, gave them to an office-boy, and instructed him to take them down to the printers. “ Tell them to leave a quarter of a column open,” he said. “ I’ll send down the . ‘ copy ’ presently.” Then he came out into the middle part of the room, turned up the electric light, and requested his fair visitor (he felt sure she was fair) to communicate whatever items of feminine information she had been able to obtain.

“ I—l’m really afraid I haven’t any,” said the Fair Unknown, sweetly, but with obvious embarrassment.

It was on the tip of the tongue of the sub-editor to ask what the etcetera she meant by coming down there and wasting his time in the busiest part of the day. Being a good young man, however, in so far as his vocation adm.*fed of goodness, he did not make such an observation. “ What can I have the pleasure of doing for you ?” he enquired, politely. “If paragraphs arc not your objects may I ask how you came to gain admission to this morning ‘At Home’ of mine ?” The lady’s maid allowed him to pause for a minute. “Yes; it is father early for an ‘ At Home,’ isn’t

? ” she enquired, with charming irrelevancy. “You see my m ” She stopped short in confusion. You were about to say ? politely

enquired the sub-editor. “ Oh, yes, I was about to say a

I July's maid, a friend of mine, told me of your scheme for getting news. i 1 bought 1 should like to learn to write personal paragraphs, though fin told it is very difficult." "It is," said the sub-editor, proudly, “ very clil'lictilt indeed. Not more than one man in a million can do it, without getting every bone in li'S body broken.”

‘ Then you must be the man or you

, oukln't be here,” answered the lady’s maid sweetly. “My friend says you write beautifully—l—l mean beautiful ; ” and she paused in evident distress at having spoken correctly. It was the proudest moment of that spectacled sub-editor’s life. Never befjrc had he been told that he wrote “ beautiful.”

li Such a calling is not without its dangers,” he said deprecatingly. “ Personally I have a strong tendency for the ministry, and am told that the paragraph style of preaching would make a decided hit:,but I have never had the time to ‘ train on ’ for it.” And he did his best not to look like a round peg in a square hole. The lady's maid sympathised with him. “ I'm sure it is very trying,” she said. “ I’m so sorry for you. It must be such a beautiful thing to preach for an hour and a quartet where no one dare contradict you. But 1 have some news which I am sure will interest you.”

“ Where are you employed ? ” asked the sub-editor, not quite relishing - his visitor's views about preaching. The lady’s maid hesitated a moment. “ Lady Vipont’s,” she said sweetly. “ Lady Vipont’s ! ” A thrill 1 - pleasure ran down the sub-editorial spine. No one had ever been able to get news from Lady Vipont’s before. He wished he had “ held over ” half a column, and produced a pencil and pad of scribbling paper in feverish haste, “ Won’t you write it down ? ” he asked, condescendingly. “ I’ll lick it into shape afterwards.” 11 You are very kind,” said the lady’s maid, somewhat sarcastically. “ But 1 have a foolish idea that I should like to try to write this paragraph of mine all by myself. You see it is my first attempt in literature. I should like to remember some day when 1 am an old woman that I did it all by myself.” “ Oh, very well,” rejoined the subeditor huffily, for he was but mortal. “ Perhaps you had better dictate it to me.”

“ Perhaps I had ” assented the Fair Unknown. “It’s—it’s about” (he could almost feel that there was a blush in her voice), “Archie —I mean Lord Archie Vipont.” “Yes ?” said the sub-editor, trembling with eagerness so that his fingers could scarcely hold the pencil. “ Yes ? Go on please.” “ ‘We understand, on the highest possible authority, that a marriage has been arranged between Lord Archie Vipont and the wealthy Miss Massington, whose father is the latest addition to the Peerage. It is rumoured at the same time that this step is the result of a temporary misunderstanding with another young lady, who is reported to be not wholly inconsolable.’ I don’t know how to spell inconsolable,’ ” continued the lady’s maid with a gulp, as she hurried over the word, “ but that’s the way 1 want the paragraph put in.” “You're sure this is correct ? I’ll attend to the spelling,” said the subeditor, unsuspiciously. “ Positive. How much am 1 to get for it ? ” The sub-editor considered. “ Our ordinary rate is half-a-crown a statement,” he said. “In this instance, however, the information is quite worth five shillings. That is to say, for about five lines of type we are virtually presenting you with fifteen copies of 1 Top Lights.’ " “ How good of you ! ” said the lady’s maid, as if quite overwhelmed by this princely generosity. “ Hum, yes, it is, now I come to think of it,” mused the sub-editor. “You might be able to let us have some more news next Monday. Will you look in about half-past eleven ? ” “ When docs the paper appear ? ” asked the Fair Unknown.

“ Late on Saturday night, so that people who don’t go to church,” said the sub-editor, with a groan (“I grieve to state, from personal knowledge, that a good many of our subscribers don’t attend any place of worship at all”) “can read the paper in bed or at breakfast on Sunday morning. We’ve had it made a convenient size on purpose.”

“ So you see you are still able to get a congregation,” said the Fair Unknown, somewhat flippantly. “ I will come down at eleven-thirty next Monday, and I think I can promise you a surprise.” “ You’re very good,” said the subeditor, politely. “ Good morning.” “ Good morning,” and she went out.

The sub-editor would have been greatly surprised if he had followed his visitor round the corner of the next street and seen her get into a stylish little brougham. She threw back her veil and smiled when secure from observation. “ That was really a nice young man,” she said, merrily. “ If my little plot succeeds, he shall certainly ‘ train on ’ for the ministry. Home, Parkins.” “ Yes, m’lady,” said Parkins, touching his hat with bewildered deference.

CHAPTER 11. The spectacled sub-editor went to church on the following Sunday morning and edited the sermon with much gusto. He thought it wanted “ cutting,” but did not sec his why how to perform such an operation. While still brooding over the subject on his way to town the next morning, something more mundane obscured his vision, and brought to mind the sensation which “ Top Lights ” must have occasioned by its authoritative statement of the day before. When he reached the office and had skimmed

through his letters, he found himself looking forward with pleasuiable anticipation to meeting with the I'air L nknown. 1 ossibly, m her capacity of lady's maid, she had the entree to several big houses and could not fail to learn all that was going on and being done by people whose acts were worth recording.

The. world had become rather tired of chronicling the doings of millionaites they wore so common; but it did want to know as much as possible about our ancient families. There seemed to be a curious feeling' in the air that someone would bring in a bill to disestablish ancient families; it would, therefore, be as well to know as much as possible about them before they became mere common clay. With the assistance of the Fair Unknown the sub-editor determined to obtain as much information on the subject as possible, and when he had successfully reinstated the paper in its former lofty position, either join the Salvation Army and convert his former readers, or become a colporteur at the Docks. He might get hold of the Lascars there, and reform them. But he was tired of sub-editing; it was worse than breaking stones, because stone-breaking always commands a certain amount of public esteem and appreciation, whereas the sub-editor is a modern scapegoat daily offered up at sacrificial altars, and invariably expected to enjoy the roasting.

To be cor eluded next week,

The ancient Egyptians, as already hinted, used ‘kohol’ for the eyes; but modern Egyptian use antimony of the finest quality —otherwise it would iullame the eyes.