STARTING A SCANDAL.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXIV, Issue 4871, 24 January 1903, Page 4 (Supplement)

STARTING A SCANDAL.

til* Jones is a solemn gentleman, Willi a pessimistic view of life in general, and his neighbours’ actions in particular. Ho looked sad in a pleased sort of way the other morning as Jig spoke to his wife across rim breakfast table. Mr Jones: It is really too had how that young Ferguson is going on. Only warned u lev.' months ago. and his wife is such a nice girl. Poor little womanly Mrs Jones (with eager interest): W imt has he been doing? I have always had my suspicious of him. hut of course I said nothing. Mr Jones: (attaching his omelet): Wo!!, when 1 went down town last night to the board meeting, i'erguson was in the same train and alone, lie was beaming in the most uudigniiled way, like a schoolboy out on a lark. (Joining homo 1 pass.nl a theatre just as the audience were coming out, and caught a glimpse of Ferguson sailing away witii a stunningly dressed woman—most devoted, too. They wore on their way to a supper, for I watched them into a cafe. Mrs Jones (ecstatically): The wretch! And I suppose poor Carla was sitting patientlv at home waiting for him, or else crying her eves out! It’s disgraceful! IT! wager she wishes now sho had married Mr Kaymond instead, even if ho is old enough to bo her father! Scene 2.—Mrs Smith's drawingroom. She is almost touching heads with her caller, Mrs White.

Mrs Smith: What! You haven’t hoard? Why. that young Ferguson is treating his wife horribly, and sho is so bravo about it, poor thing! Goes out just the same, and never once drops her pretty smile. Ho is infatuated with another woman—takes her to theatres and wine suppers, and is out every evening in the week. Mrs Jones knows all about it, and sho says Carla bitterly regrets hor mistake in not taking that nice Mr Kaymond instead. Of course he is dull, but then he would not have neglected her. Oh, these young men! Mrs White; I always did feel that he wasn’t to ho trusted! Scene 3.—Mrs White has three women to luncheon. Mrs White; And so Carla has reached the limit of her endurance! She’s going to got a divorce. I admire her spirit, though I hate to see a home broken up. It serves Ferguson just right. I only wonder why she delays leaving him and going back to her father. Chorus of Women: Yos, isn’t it odd? Poor child, what an unhappy experience for In it! And how she keeps her troubles tohei'solf! Scent. 4. —Tho home of the Fergusons. Cv.rla and her husband are contentedly sitting by the reading lamp cutting magazines. Ferguson (suddenly): My dear, you know my tall hat—the one I went down in tho train ahead of you to buy the evening wo went to the theatre last week? Well, i’vo splashed ink on it. Can you clean it? Carla: Yes, certainly. You look so well in that hat, Dick. 1 was proud-of you came to meet me at the station. By tho way, what on earth do you suppose ails all the women I know? They have gazed at me with tears in their eyes tho last few days, and patted moon the shoulder. .To-day Mrs Jones said I could always rely on her, and thero were plenty of others to hack me up.

Ferguson (amusedly): Can t guess. Why don’t you ask ’em? Carla: I’m going to. They make mo uncomfortable. She does, and Ferguson, coming homo next evening, is swamped with hysterical torrents of speech, in which inoffensive Mr Raymond, "gossipy, horrid women,” coruscating wrath, and cuoking laughter are inextricably mingled. Ferguson (after three distinct attempts to speak his mind which end in failures); "And there’s absolutely nothing we can do to convince people it’s untrue! Carla, come and weep on the shoulder of your villainous husband —and let’s go to the theatre to celebrate!”