“ALIEN’S” LETTER FROM ENGLAND

Otago Witness, Issue 3101, 20 August 1913, Page 67

“ALIEN’S” LETTER FROM ENGLAND

FROM FRIDAY July 4. 1

The cheers and flag-flying, banqueting and speeches, expressions of friendship and hand-shaking attending the French President’s visit to London came to an end last Friday with M. Poincare’s departure from England. The political results of the visit are evidently eminently satisfactory, for the cordialities were kept up till the last. The King, the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Connaught, and Sir Edward Grey—whose presence is always connected with foreign affairs — were among the distinguished folk who went to Victoria Station to see the President off, and the last that was seen of M. Poincare at Dover, he was standing on the deqk of the Pas de Calais, hat in hand, waving a farewell to England. Among all the brilliant functions of last week the State ball at Buckingham Palace was unrivalled. From her Majesty, in her robe of Indian gold and green-shot tissue, the dresses of the ladies were lovely. The President watched the dancing of the Royal quadrille from the dais. It was a brilliant spectacle, 22 couples taking part. His Majesty danced with the Crown Princess of Sweden, her Majesty with the Duke of Connaught, the Prince of Wales with Princess Victoria. The President did not dance, hut took part ia the Royal procession. Nearly 3000 guests were present, and the scene was one of dazzling splendour. The gowns wtwm were of exceptional beauty and of picturesque design and colouring, the preponderance of gold and silver tissues being noticeable. Silver fringes and tassels were on many of the gowns, and the soft sheen was very effective. Pearls and diamonds were the chief jewels worn, and these .were wonderful. The Countess of Chesterfield wore a lovely gown of nattier blue satin, with long angel sleeves; the Marchioness of Lincolnshire was in blue satin with 1 hand-painted roses; Adeline, Duchess of Bedford, soft ivory charmeuse woven with gold; the Duchess of Marlborough, white and silver brocade.

Among other interesting events on last week’s crowded list was the opening in London of the new League of Empire Club, which has been instituted to provide suitable headquarters for those interested in Imperial work. The main idea of the work of the club- is to establish co-operation between the countries of the Empire. The Princess Alexander of Teek opened the club, and there was a large number of distinguished folk present connected with the Dominions.

The marriage of Lord Petre and Miss Catherine Boscawen taking place on Saturday kept a good many people in town for the week-end. There was a large congregation at the Westminster Cathedral, but the service was curtailed, as the bride belongs to ,the Church of England. The bride is the only daughter of the Hon. John and Lady Margaret Boscawen, and a niece of Lord Falmouth and Lord Stafford. She is petite and very pretty, and looked exceedingly well in her dress of white and silver brocade draped with beautiful lace, her lace veil being fastened by a chaplet of orange blossom buds. She carried a sheaf of Madonna lilies. Mr Lionel Tennyson acted as best man. The bride was given away by her father, and was attended by eight bridesmaids and two little train-bearers. The bridesmaids wore dresses of cream-coloured crepe do chine. Rose du Barrie satin shoes, hats trimmed with honeysuckle, and Rose du Barrie ribbon. The tiny page wore a cream satin suit, and his companion a muslin frock and a lace sunbonnet. After the ceremony the bride’s mother held a reception at St. James’s square. On Monday the King went down to the sea to visit the Australian flagship Australia, which sails for the Pacific immediately, and carries with her the first Dominion Admiral, Rear-admiral Patey, whom the King knighted on the quarterdeck of his ship, thus honouring the Australian navy through its Commandcr-in-Chief. His Majesty wore the undress uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet, and the Prince of Wales, who accompanied his father, was in the undress uniform of a naval lieutenant. Sir George Reid, High Commissioner for Australia, was present. After carefully in spec tine' the ship, his Majesty borrowed a sword and knighted the Admiral. On leaving, the King wished him a pleasant journey and a happy commission. Next evening the Prince of Wales left Charing Cross on a private visit to Germany, where he will spend several weeks as the guest of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Macklenburg-Strelitz at Neustrelitz. If the rumour re the future husband of Princess Mary be correct in citing him as the Hereditary Grand Duke of Mecklcnburg-Strelitz, the exchanges of visits between Neustrelitz and Buckingham Palace are likely to be frequent. The young Duke has been taken under the Royal wing as a future son-in-law would be. Modern Society says: “A more prominent position it would be impossible for any foreign Prince to occupy in this country, and as Queen Mary has always been so extremely clannish with the Strelitz family, the forecasting of a brilliant alliance for the Hereditary Grand Duke with the only daughter of King George is a safe one. dlte alliance is said to Ire the work of the old Dowager Grand Duchess, who is a British Princess, and the last representative of the Cambridge branch of the family of King George 111. The old Grand Duchess is over 90, and for years she had a town house in London, and came over every summer to renew old associations. Intensely proud of being a Princess of Great Britain and Ireland, all her descendants have imbibed her love of everything English, and her grandson, the Hereditary Grand Duke, is as much an Englishman as King George himself. Strange as it may seem.

TO FRIDAY.

(Specially Written for the Witness Ladies’ Pag#.)

the venerable Grand Duchess can boast that she witnessed the coronation of King William IV, who came to the throne in the year 1830. She was the Princess Augusta, one of the daughters of the Duke of Cambridge, who also provided us with the popular Princess May of Cambridge, the mother of the Queen Mary of to-day.” The opening of the Royal Horticultural Flower Show, which was held at Holland. House, lent by Mary, Lady Ilchester, drew crowds, and here again the dresses were of a most picturesque description. The grounds of Holland House make an ideal setting for the show, which in these days is no longer an array of flowers and plants in pots and tubs, but a transformation scene of arrangement in which every species has its natural environment. The “flower in the crannied nook” has its nook—old stonework and rockeries framing the Alpine flowers, streams and bridges setting off the rushes and ferns, and the water lilies float on a pond planted at the edge with irises and reeds. The rock and sunk gardens attracted even more than the tents. The best exhibition and the winner of the Coronation Cup was decided by the judges to be a show of orchids belonging to Sander and Sons, St. Albans. But the roses! For sheer delight of colour and scent the roses were incomparable.

Except for the first day not very brilHant -weather has favoured Henley this week, but on the opening of the great regatta the river was at its best. To live in a houseboat under the shadow of the great riverside trees, lolling on its deck or in a punt with strawberries and cream, music, immaculate flannels, and straw hats and dainty river frocks and Japanese umbrellas seems to be the ideal life for an English summer week. And Henley this week has been an ideal resort despite an overcast sky. It presented a scene of summer that Londoners, resting from the turmoil and din of the city, can appreciate to the full. So that nothing but a downpour can damp the spirits of the Henley picnickers. And it takes a great deal to destroy the colour scheme. When rain was expected many light transparent waterproofs were worn through which the colours of the dresses could be seen.

This week the law courts have proved as attractive to Society as any of the other entertainments, for two notable members of the aristocracy have been under the legal limelight, and the court has been packed with what is commonly called •‘the upper classes.” In beautiful and stylish attire the ladies—among them Americans and other visitors—have thronged the probate court for days, listening to the evidence of the £1.000,000 will suit, in which Lady Sackville, wife of Lord Sackville of Kuole, one of the most wonderful old houses in England, one of its most stately and beautiful homes, is accused of using undue influence in obtaining the fortune and art treasures and pictures which a friend of many years, Sir John Scott, bequeathed to her to the exclusion of his family. The Scott brothers and sisters (Sir John was unmarried) are trying to do away with the will on the grounds of undue influence. But the suit is too lengthy and too complicated to deal with here. The other case, though simpler, has raised a question of class prejudice which is being vigorously discussed. It is a breach of promise case where the record sum of £50,000 was paid to Miss Daisy Markhum by the Marquess of Northampton, who succeeded to the title less than a month ago, and who was formerly a lieutenant in the Royal Horse Guards, and' owns 24,000 acres with an income of £150,000. The Marquess is a tall, dark, handsome man with a strong and earnest face. Seated not far away on the solicitor’s bench, was the plaintiff, a beautiful voting woman, whose tasteful dress of black silk and white lace seemed to hint at complimentary mourning for the late Marquess, whose will and persuasion had jirevenled her marriage to his heir. But there were no sensational details. The defendant, who loved and honoured the woman whom the late Marquess had rejected as the future Marchioness of Northampton, stopped the proceedings by agreeing to Sir Edward Carson’s. the famous K.C., suggestion to pay his client £50.000 free of all costs—which are estimated at £IO.OOO It was by the consent of Lord Northampton that one of liis letters to Miss Markham was read, so as to place the lady honourably in the public mind, and to state that he had a sincere wish to marry her. It was written after the final interview with his father, when he bowed to his will, and before there was any question of his death, which occurred on the Continent so soon afterwards. The letter, which carried conviction with it, read:

Castle Abbey. Northampton. Dearest Daisy,—l must just write you aJine, as I am so wretchedly miserable. I want to assure you that I am doing the right thing, and though you will perhaps find it difficult now, I am going to ask you to believe that I always have, and do at tho present moment, love and respect you more than, anyone else in this world, and that you are absolutely my ideal of perfect womanhood. But, Daisy, the ways of the world are hard, and I want you to believe that what I am now doing®! am doin* from a sense of duty, genuinely believing it to be the best for both of us. Darling, I have known it all along. I have tried to smother my reason, to stifle my thoughts for your sake. But when my father talked to me on Friday he only faced mo with the same thoughts that I told you of when I first loved you, and which I have ever since been trying to suppress. Daisy, you don't know how these so-called “ladies'’ would treat yon. and I really couldn’t boar to see you suffering it. and with your sweet, sensitive nature it would be torture to you. Oh! if I could only escape from my position! Daisy, I want to beg your forgiveness for the way in which I have done it. I was so distracted

between my feelings for you and my com victiona of what was really beet that I am afraid I wavered in a way that was most unfair to you. I must also apologise for that hurried scrawl that I cent you this morning (it seems ages ago). I am quite mad, Daisy. I feel I have nothing left to live for. Writing that note was killing the last hope of my heart conquering my reason. I did it in a hurry, for fear of changing my mind. And although I can’t remember what I said, I believed, after sending it, that I had said something of extremely bad taste and brutally cruel to you. "Daisy, I did not mean it, old girl- Well, darling, I really have nothing more to say. You will always be my ideal, and you will always be my beautiful dream. Darling, write me one line later, when you feel inclined to tell me that you have some respect for me left. God bless you, darling, and give vou all the pluck you will need. I can’t write any more.

Your broken-hearted “ Bim.” j The question is being asked, is not the , class hatred in high life too old to exist in this democratic age? But pray make no mistake; it is the cause of much of the unrest and discontent among the classes.