THE IDEAL WOMAN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVII, Issue 14300, 21 February 1910, Page 3

THE IDEAL WOMAN.

BY ROBERT BARB, Author of " The Face and the Mask," " The ■■ Mutable Many," "From Whose Bourne." " The Strong Arm." " The Countess * Tekla," -" A Woman Intervenes," . " Stranleigh's Millions," "Car- '.-■.-■■."/,■: dillac," etc

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ABBANOEMEHT.

[COPYRIGHT.] •-;;• - ; CHAPTER XI. Slowly Rupert rose to his feet, looking reproachfully at his hostess. "So you also have joined the conspiracy! Auntie Amory, I never thought this of you!". "Surely you are not going already?" cried Mrs. Tresd&le. ''What else is there for me to do? I am driven from mansion an cottage alike by that eternal question of matrimony. I expect to become a sort of Wandering Jew by-and-bye, with no place to rest the sole of my. foot." v "That was the dove from the Ark,'.' commented his hostess, with a gdntle smile. "You are mixing things up." "No wonder; I am rather mixed myself. I do not doubt that when I reach the sanded parlour of the Ploughman's Arms the landlord, as he brings in my tankard of ale, will remark: 'I say, young fellow, isn't it about time you thought' of getting married?' If he does, I'll fling him out of the windows-after he's put the ale in a place of safety, of course." You are not really offended with me, are you, Rupert?" she asked, anxiously. " No, of course not: I am just chaffing you. Auntie Amory. I don't mind what people say, only I must admit that the mater gets a trifle tiresome on the subject sometimes. She comes of a persistent race that |has always had a little too much of its own way." .' . '■ "Ah ! Prince Rupert, you do not realis© the anxieties of a mother." "No, I suppose Dot; and the mater does not realise the annoyances of a. son. You see, Auntie Amory, I am really.a man, after all is said and done, and have put away childish things some time ago. My pinafores are all laundered and packed up, or given away to the poor, I don't know which. Anyhow, I'm going to wear them ■ again. Mother seems to think I still need the guiding hand, and probably takes credit that she does not use it for a more coercive purpose. Just imagine it; she sent cut this morning invitations to a house-party. Think ;of thata' house-party in the , middle of July "I see. And there's neither hunting "nor shooting to amuse your guests." "Oh cried the young fellow, with a gesture of impatience, "there will-be both hunting and : shooting. Lady Dorothy will hunt me, and bring me down if she can. One defect' about England is that humanitarianism has gone all awry. It protects the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air, but there is no close time for an eligible bachelor." "It would be rather inexpedient to fill the house with guests, and not know what to do with them." " 1 know what to do with myself, Auntie. Amory. I'll bolt.", •"Where?" ■ ';,*''* Anywhere, anywhere out of the fashionable world. To Switzerland, perhaps, or may be Norway. The Himalaya Mountains are rather far off, but I suppose some spot among them would be the only safe i place, except, perhaps. Central Thibet. Anyhow, 'I'm off to Philadelphia in the morning.' -■ "Wouldn't such a course rather leave the Marchioness in"the"■lurch?'?■'•..-' ".Self-preservation is the first law of : Nature, auntie." '"' _ ,t .■ , '. " Surely a .courageous' young man like you isn't afraid of the Ladies-Diana whom your mother may select? From what I have read of the Mevivale race, I understood they were brave, and never ran away from danger." - "That's all very. well. They never ran away from men, although they sometimes ran away with women. My grandfather ; ran away with an actiess. After him a I sane Merivale as due, and' my fathur j married most appropriately; . thus our estates were cleared. Now it's; my turn. I told the mater no later than this morning that I shall go to London to morrow, fleet the most suitable actress I can find, and marry her." "You'd never do anything so foolish?" " Oh, I don't know. Self-preservation, as 1 have said; I should pick up an act-J ress ) merely as a shield. >; This ■ men-hunt - ing would than stop, 60 long as I kept out of a Mohammedan country, ; where a man is allowed four wives; Of course, if I married one woman in Turkey, the same ticuble would ; arise about the selection of the other three. My case is ! so simple that I'm continually wondering at myself ]\ for not settling the matter by issuing a sort of declaration of independence such as the American papers are always " bragging about. I don't want to be married because I am the Marquess of Merivale, or 'hi cause lam a rid; man." s ' • *; "You wish to be a model Lord Burleigh, then?" - ; ; ' ■-. "No; I'm qu<te content to .be Lord Merivale. What did Lord Burleigh do?" "He followed the example of King Cophetua." \ ' ■'.-:;■"'" ' ; " Oh, the Beggar-Maid chap ! I know ell about him. No, I don't wj.nt to do anything romantic or school-boyish, ; but I feel I shall be driven to something of the sort if they don't leave me alone. You see, I have all the rrorey anybody could possibly want, therefore it is not necessary for me to many wealth. My ances- j tors came over with that Pirate of Penzance, William the Conquerer, so don't need to marry a maiden of long descent, a Lady Clara Vere de Vere, accredited with a hundred earls, from which it? would seem that the founder of her house must rave come over in a galleon with Julius Caesar. 1 tell you, Auntie; Amory, I'm going up to London to a remnant sale." .':■s: ' "A' remnant sale?" -; ' v . ~, , "Well, that's what I call 'it. .1 want to know, by personal inspection, how many attractive women ' pur nobility.; has allowed to remain inV the :bright (limelight that heats ari'imd'a popular'actress." ; : % .". You intend to marry ; her ; incognito, I suppose?" ' ■■< . "Oh, certainly. There comes in' the charm of the quest." "She would not : look at you ; -if she thought you were ; a mere penniless commoner." "That's all right, then I wouldn't marry! her. The case is as simple as A, B, C." ■•■ ■' Yes. '> arid you talk like, a simpleton my Lord Marquess, though, of course, you don't mean a single word you are' saying. Manlike, you are merelv tormenting -an > old woman -who loves you." ' , »'-' ■■ "After that blow, Auntie Amory, I'll sit down" again." And with this N in':'.-.'. mock despair, the young man flung himself once ■ more into the comfortable armchair, and threw one leg indolently over the other. " I admit at once that I have no intention ■of going; to London, •. and, haunting either the stalls or the stagedoor." '■':'.; "_.■ } ;;'; "One moment, Rupert. In that case, my charge of cruelty falls to the ground.. I i thought by your talk you were about to do! what ■so many foolish young men belonging to good families have done. You i object to girls of wealth and long ; descent" .- , , . "Oh I don't object to them, but you see my difficulty. : ,'I,; hate to say it, for Tt sounds sentimental, but I could never be sure that I .was not married for my title or mv money." -,■; . -;.•■. ~ - - , ' "Still, Rupert,; there are in all circles of society plenty of most estimable women, whom vou could meet and become acquainted with' under some other name than your own. You could continue the mystification until you had proposed and been ac- :" In your wide reading, Auntie Amory," murmured the ; young man, 'with his eyes half-closed,'- leaning back, ; hands interlocked behind his head, " did vou ever come across an individual ' called Duillius?" " T don't remember him.", V (To be continued daily.) ;