THE IDEAL WOMAN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVII, Issue 14301, 22 February 1910, Page 3

THE IDEAL WOMAN.

BY ROBERT BARK, Author of "The Face and the Mask," "The Mutable Many," " Prom Whose Bourne," " The Strong Arm," " The Countess Tekla," " A Woman Intervenes," " Stranleish's Millions," " Cardillac," etc.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

[COPT BIGHT.]

CHAPTER Xl.—[Continued.)

"Ah, then, there's a Roland for your Oliver, My Duiliius matches your Lord Burleigh. Still, I mustn't brag, because I'm a little hazy about Duiliius myself. He was a Roman, and, if I. remember aright, did something drastic and 'inconvenient to the Carthagenians. I think his Dreadnought sunk theirs but, anyhow, when he returned, to the strains of 'See the Conquering Hero Coiner,' they had a regular Mafoking Day "in Rome, and the Senate, without any adverse vote from the Opposition, proclaimed that hereafter Duiliius would -be preceded by a torch-bearer, and followed by a flute-player, and so ho wandered round Rome like a sideshow that had strayed away from the, main circus procession. His two 'attendants became deucedly inconvenient as time went on, and I forget at the moment whether Duiliius extinguished the torch by throwing its bearer into the" Tiber, and silenced the ilute by massacring the musician, but my point •is that until he did something of that sort the old man could not get away from'them.

"Now, you speak of the number of estimable girls who are scattered over our land, but does it occur to you that it would be well-nigh impossible for me _to abandon my title and get an introduction into their households? My title and my wealth would bo like the torch-bearer and the flute-playerl could not get away from either. They would precede or follow me wherever I went. I might call myself Billy Duiliius, but I should be forced to give an account of myself, and if I started a line of fiction, would be tripped ,up and thrown out of society in disgrace. If I got any of my friends to introduce me, they'd be sure to whisper aside to someone: ' Billy is really the Marquess of Merivale,' and so the whisper would surround me as the torch nimbus surrounded the throbbing head of the original Duiliius. " Now, Auntie Amory, you, a model of propriety, would not counsel me to accost a beautiful girl in the street and say to her: ' I wish to become acquainted with you, that I may learn whether or not you are the Ideal Woman.' Would you advise me to do such a thing as that?" " Certainly not. You are perfectly absurd, Rupert; but you are not in earnest, so I suppose I must forgive your fooling." "Indeed, auntie, I am very much in earnest. I am trying to show you the difficulties that encompass me should I attempt to step out of my class and pretend to be someone else. Nearly every Extractive young woman in the land is environed by parents or brothers or uncles or dragons of some sort, before whom I must appear, and the first questions asked, in some shape or form, are: 'Who are you? What are your antecedents? How much money do you control?' Therefore, you see, auntie, a marriage by merit, as I might call it, uninfluenced by any mercenary consideration, is not so easily come by as you seem to think."

" Yes, my Lord Marquess, I see there are many lions in the way." "And unicorns, too, auntie. You may not think me hopelessly impractical, though everyone else on earth would, if I confess that when I am weighed in the balance by some charming girl I am anxious that neither rank 'nor gold shall bo thrown into the scale to deflect the needle. At such a critical moment I want her to think of nothing but me, as I shall think of nothing but her." " You are entirely in the right, Rupert, and I quite sympathise with your purpose. I see plainly tho obstacles in the way, but surely a young man like you, with strength and resolution, may overcome those obstacles." ,

"Indeed, Amory, my family succumb to obstacles, rather than overcome:', them. The Merivales are proficient in getting into difficulties, but once up to the neck in trouble they wait for someone else to pull them out." , ,

" That may be true of the Merivales, but although' you bear their name do not forget you are also half a Brunton, and that family not only overcame' opponents, but' slaughtered them." "Yes, the Bruntons. Oh, my prophetic soul, my uncle, Lord Brunton! Igo round in deadly terror of him. He regards me as a useless cuinberer of the earth. I suppose if I entered his immense and ugly and dismal steel works as a labourer, I might in years win his grudging approval, but in doing that I should merely be keeping out of a job some useful fellow who could do the work much better than I. Besides, I have no ambition to marry a labourer's daughter. The girl I have in view should be refined, cultured, educated, sympathetic, beautiful, and in every sense of the word a lady. I\should like her to be rather poor in purse, for perhaps the study of economy might be one of her duties. I'd prefer her to know little of fashionable London, and nothing at all of ■ Paris. I'd want to be the first to show her the grandeur of Switzerland, the charm of tho Riviera, and the beauty of. Italy. I dream of a honeymoon on a basis almost economical, where she, would try to persuade me not to stay at an hotel quite so expensive. I fancy us figuring together whether we can: journey so far east as Venice, or so far south as Naples. I anticipate arriving at a point where our finances demand that we shall immediately return, when an- unexpected windfall tumbles in from London to me—a debt that I had never expected to receive-and so we might linger for another fortnight on the shores of Lake Como. When we had given up all thought of Capri or Pompeii, a distant forgotten relative would expire, and the solicitor would send on funds that would carry us to Calabria and back."

"Rupert, you aro selfishly cruel. Please remember that I have never seen any of those places, and never can hopeto see them." .

"Forgive me, auntie. Still, I'm not sure but, that may be accomplished, after all. However, my bride and I have returned to cosy old England again, and now there remains the homecoming, when I shall take the dear girl by the shoulders, and say: 'Madam, yon are not Mrs. Bethen at all, as you suppose, but the Marchioness of Morivale, and here is your smiling castle welcoming you home !'" " Ah, my Lord of Burleigh again!" " I suppose so. I must look up that chap, and learn what he did." " You will find him very well set forth in Tennyson's works." " What tricks imagination plays us, Auntie Amory. Here I have nearly materialised the future Marchioness of Morivale, and wake up to find nothing but air. The unicorn has been dreaming, while the lion rages at obstacles not yot attacked." -

"You will never conjure up such marchioness at the stago-door of a theatre, my Lord of Merivalo."

" I suppose not, but I told you I did not intend to become acquainted with that portal. Now, here is my plan. There is one profession which sometimes ( proves lucrative, but often tho reverse, where your antecedents are not inquired into eo long as you command the cash. No one wishes to learn where tho manager of a theatre came from so long as ho is able to pay salaries. I shall place to my credit, or, rather, to the credit of 11. Bethen, Esquire, in a London bank, the sum of twenty thousand pounds. I understand that with one or two exceptions the theatrical managers of Loudon ask only one thing of a play, which is that it will bring in money. This, of course, is proper enough. Indeed, in these commercial days, any business must pay dividends or cease. There are but two roads —one leading to tho bank, tho other to bankruptcy. Naturally, the average manager wishes to trudge along to the bank with . his deposit. , Very well. I have enough money to ignore the bank, find yet keep out of bankruptcy, although . that is more than could be said of my paternal grandfather who married- the actress." (To be continued daily.)