Brightening Up Backs

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 510, 13 November 1928, Page 5

Brightening Up Backs

Jj 1 A SHI ON has at last realised that,although the wearer of a frock sees only In the front, other eyes have the privilege of criticising the back. And, as a rule, the backs of frocks and coats are the plainest things imaginable. The campaign for brightening this long neglected portion of ieirtinine dress was started with long drapes trailing to the ground at the back. Now, cut, buttons, and all of trimmings help to smarten the back of a frock to equal the work put into the front. Jumper suits, so far, have led the slightly increased tension in the clasp of her folded hands. A swift and almost veiled under-look was exchanged between husband and wife. Heming said, “Thank you, Carstairs,” and carefully brushed arid flicked the cigar-ash from his waistcoat. Lady Elizabeth smiling gently, murmured: “Of course, we shall be glad to hear you, doctor.” And Carstairs, after acknowledging their courteous utterances, with a smile at each in turn, proceeded thus: “We are agreed, my dear Heming, are we not, in thinking that no useful purpose will be served in stirring up the mud of our dear friend Temple’s past. We, you and I, have failed in our .charitable endeavour to keep the truth in regard to Mary Barstow from your wife and from your charming daughter., We recognise and honestly admit our failure; but we can congratulate ourselves that, as events have turned out, no great harm has been done, since there is no chance now of Cicely ever marrying him.” “Yes, I agree with you.” said Heming. “And you, Lady Elizabeth?” “I am still anxious that . Cicely should marry Roger,” she answered. Carstairs, laughing gaily, shook his finger at her in playful warning. “I grant,” he said, “that it is a woman’s inalienable right to change her mind, but I would urge you, dear Lady Elizabeth, to remember that second thoughts are not always best. Your motherly instincts objected to this match when it was first mooted, and I venture to think your motherly instincts were correct and should not be disregarded. I should like,” and again that playful warning of the

i-way. It is nothing unusual to see a jumper embroidered exactly the same on the back as the front. Pictured above is one of the latest models seen in a Sydney salon window. It is fastened and pocketed on the back. The “fish tail” skirt has been embellished, and now boasts much trimming and colourful design. When worn with a pair of shoes to match, the “fish tail” train may be very effective. Simple sports and afternoon frocks feature hand-embroidery on the back. Above is a pretty frock of Irish linen stitched with coloured th«;ad in a floral design. shaken fore-finger, “I should like.” he said, “before I touch on the matter of the stolen plans to hear you say that you no longer consider this marriage desirable.” “I could not oppose my husband’s wishes,” said Lady Elizabeth in low tones. “Exactly; and that is all that can be fairly required of you,” was Carstairs’s approving answer. He paused for a moment, moving and shifting in his chair to secure a position of greater ease and comfort, and then continued, Addressing himself pointedly to Lady Elizabeth. “We now come to that unfortunate Admiralty affair, which involves poor Temple in the suspicion of having sold confidential naval secrets to a foreign foe for money. ’And although the timely discovery of the letter signed X.Y.Z. goes far to prove that somebody else, not poor Temple, was the actual trafficker in these stolen plans, yet, dear Lady Elizabeth, you are at one with me, I think, ill taking the view that it is wise to let sleeping dogs lie; by which I mean you would prefer that no public inquiry were held into au old scandal which is far better forgotten?” “Yes, those are my views; you have accurately stated them.” said Lady Elizabeth. “And are they also yours, Heming?” “No,” said the latter. “I am of the opinion that an inquiry should be held and that Roger ought to be publicly vindicated.” Carstairs now turned directly to Heming, and with a gay laugh shook the warning forefinger playfully for his especial benefit. “But. my dear Heming.” he said, “how can you be so inconsistent? If it is wise and expedient not to reopen the unhappy business of Mary Barstow’s death, how can it be less wise and expedient not to probe afresh into that equally regrettable affair of the Westmouth Dockyard plans? The two things stand on identically the same basis, and if it is wise to further investigate one, it is equally wise to further investigate the other. I am sure you have overlooked that consideration and I am sure that, now that I have pointed it out to you, you will feel disposed to modify your opinion.” “Yes,” said Heming. “I had overlooked that point.” “Then you do agree with Lady Elizabeth and myself in thinking it inexpedient to hold any public inquiry into the Admiralty affair?” “Yes,” said Heming, “on second thoughts I do.” “And if there is any inclination on the Government’s part to proceed with the inquiry you will do your utmost as Solicitor-General to discourage it?” “Yes.” said Heming, .“yes, I should j feel I ought to discourage it.” “Then we are all three of one mind j on both matters.” said Carstairs, beaming and* smiling impartially to right and left. “We are.” they said, but oh! how their consciences writhed and squirmed as they said it. And then Carstairs gave them something else to think about, something so startling that in sheer stupefaction thqreat they even forgot their own shame and misery and degrading humiliation. He remarked in his blandest tones: “It I were a marrying man, or if. shall I say, I saw the smallest likelihood of your being able to persuade your charming daughter to accept me as her husband. I would do myself the pleasure of formally notifying you that I aspired to the honour of becoming your son-in-law. But I recognise that such happiness is not for me.

Not t£at you would grudge it me or consider me unworthy of it; but simply because I realise in these days of advanced feminist thought that parental authority has been greatly weakened; that, therefore, you would be powerless to further my wishes or your own in respect of dear Cicely s future, who I do not conceal from myself, would never consent to marry me.” For an instant Heming sat spell* bound, and then the wrath of an outraged parent overwhelmed him. “You infernal hound! get out of my house.” he shouted. Lady Elizabeth started to her feet aud ran to the bell. “Shall I ring, Edward?” Heming was standing over Carstairs, quivering with passion. His wife waited beside the bell, fearless, with heaving breast, ready to support and aid him in violently resenting the affront that had been put upon them. And Carstairs just did nothing but 101 l in his chair and smile his amusement at both.

“My dear friends,” he murmured suavely; “why this sudden indignation and inhospitable anger? Isn’t it due to a misunderstanding? Apparently I have failed to make myself clear. I did not ask you to exert pressure on Cicely, to induce her to marry me; I expressly intimated that I did not aspire to the honour of her hand. Won’t you sit down again?” And in half a minute they were seated as before. Their forgetfulness of their shameful misery and humiliation had been brought about by the tremendous spasm of righteous indignation taking them unawares and momentarily throwing them off their balance. Memory returned all too quickly. The}' remembered they had no longer the right to indulge in honest anger. They sat down. They were at this man’s mercy. They slunk back to their chairs. It was with them exactly as it had been a minute or so ago.

I They and he presented the same - pleasant picture of three people t grouped at graceful ease, in friendly - intimacy, amidst surroundings that C were the acme of refined domestic t comfort. > “And now,” said Carstairs, as t cheerily calm as if nothing had occurred to mar the harmony of the scene, “I will tell you the favour I do ■ propose to ask of you. I have —and I cannot refrain from calling your attention to what is a very remarkable j coincidence—l have long been inter- . ested in the great naval dockyard at ’ Westmouth. It is a matter of interest ’ to every patriotic citizen of this country. Our Navy, with everything | connected with it, is the pride of this r great Empire of ours. I share that - interest and that pride, united with a very special desire Ur make myself 5 thoroughly acquainted with the plans of the Westmouth docks.” He paused, and then to Heming with ' ineffable insolence: 1 tTo be continued.)