A MAID IN MAYFAIR

Taranaki Daily News, 23 December 1931, Page 13

A MAID IN MAYFAIR

GOSSIP FROM LONDON TOWN. BALCOMBE’S GREAT DAY. (From Our Lady Correspondent), i London, Oct. 29. The little Sussex village of Balcombe already had a prideful place in history, for 3'4 years ago leapt sensationally into fame with the discovery of a four-teenth-century water-jug full of gold and silver coins of the rarest Biitish Museum value. But Lady May Cambridge’s wedding day will very completely eclipse the thrilling numismatic incident when the later records of Balcombe come to be inscribed. The echo of thirty thousand cheering voices, acclaiming a truly lovely royal bride, will drown the chink of ancient treasure trove dating back to memories of Crecy. But I doubt whether thb records will recapture the full quality of that popular ovation, or the sheer magic of the.scene as delighted eye-witnesses beheld it, from the lilylike beauty of the bride to the bright eyes and dimpling smile of Princess Elizabeth, who loved every moment of the pageantry in which she played hei own little part with such demure but sparkling gusto. LADY MAY MAKES HISTORY.

Never on any stage has the of drama been more intense than when the throng in the village church watched the door with eager expectancy, that presently held a touch of anxiety, for a five-minutes-late bride. And when at last she appeared, framed in the arched doorway like a really perfect picture come to life, with fair curls peeping beneath the lace veil once worn by a Queen, one almost heard the unuttcrcd cry of homage from all assembled there. But another dramatic moment was to come. Lady May the feminist, the former pupil of St. Paul’s School, whose softly murmured ‘‘l will'’ was. almost inaudible by comparison with her tall bridegroom’s firm response, made no promise to obey, and in the omission made history. For she is the first royal bride of England who has not taken that old-time vow, and over whose bowed head the service from the New Prayer Book was intoned. A ROYAL HANDFUL. I

Little Princess Elizabeth had the time of her life at the Royal wedding. She eclipsed everybody, including the bride and her Life Guard bridegroom. A Fleet Street friend, who was there, told me the crowd had eyes for her alone. And the Duke of York’s small daughter is what the London charwoman would call “a regular madam.” From top to toe all restless energy, not a thing escapes her quick eyes. She revels in pageantry and Big occasions. At Brantridge Park she constituted herself cloakroom attendant. Her father worships her—with paternal reservations. When he deposited her with the other society mites at their special luncheon table, the Duke’s final admonition, spoken feelingly, was “And now be a good girl!” But Princess Elizabeth’s eyes were glued on the table, taking stock of things. LADY MAY’S TROUSSEAU. i One of the r&anest suggestions which the election has produced was the statement that Lady May Cambridge had bought most of her trousseau in Paris. The- truth is that it was entirely procured from London firms, of which I have seen a full list. The only foreign element was some dyeing, which could not be done in this country. It is the invariable rule of all the Royal Family to buy British whenever possible, and it would have been surprising if Lady May had departed from it. The recent decision of the Duke of Connaught to spend the winter on the south coast, when he might have produced a medical certificate justifying his return to the south of France, is another proof of the same policy. If the Royal example were generally followed in this as in other matters, British trade would benefit materially. DURE OF SALOME. ' Stage footlights still cast their glamour over scions of Debretit. We have been assured that titled dandies no longer wait at stage doors, in the Georgian and Victorian manner, for pretty ladies. But Lord Charles Cavendish, the 26-year-old heir to the Duke of Devonshire’s title and estates, is engaged to popular Adele Astaire, the famous and alluring dancer, which seems proof positive that even post-war human nature cliangeth not. Lord Charles is specialising in high finance, and was in a London banking house before going to New York for experience with the J. P. Morgan firm. Obviously all his time has not been dedicated to ledgers. The Duke’s boyishlooking son has done a little “star-gaz-ing,” too. Adele Astaire made her debut 1® years ago in New York, and gave a turn with her brother at the old London Empire. LIVING AS IN THE PAST. i Mis* Douce Beaumont, who is to marry Mr. Harry Trevor Jones, lives in & mediaeval atmosphere unknown to modern society girls. For her mother is “La Dame de Sercq,” otherwise the present ruler of the little island of Sark, where there are no oi cinemas, only one small tax, and many quaint old customs. Miss Beaumont’s Grandfather, who died three years ago, was the successor of a De Carteret, to whom Queen Elizabeth granted the office of Seigneur of Sark. Her father, Major Beaumont, was killed in the war. She lives in the quaint old Seigneune with her mother, who presides oyer the island Parliament, addressing it .in the pure Norman-French of the Conquest spoken by the islanders, and who receives every year a fowl for every chimney of her tenants’ houses. There are

forty of them, and they pay their ground rent to her in grain or other “kind.” THE OTHER DIANA CHURCHILL. There seems to be a pretty prevalent impression that Miss Diana Churchill, who made her film debut in an Eistree production called “The Head Waiter,” is the daughter of “Winston.” This is no doubt due to the mis-statement to that effect by one of our foremost film critics, well known to wireless fans. It would seem that even the expert may err when putting two and two together. Apparently, in this instance, he came to the conclusion that, since Lady Bridget Poulett and Miss Evelyn Spilabury, daughter of Sir Bernard, made their appearance in the same picture, it must be the famous politicians daughter in this galere. As a matter of actual fact, the Miss Diana Churchill of the film is a silver medallist and scholar in dramatic art at the Guildhall School, and her father is Dr. J. H. Churchill. UNIQUE. A lady of my acquaintance, who at. the moment is regularly scanning the advertisement columns of her daily paper in the hope of finding the ideal country retreat of moderate dimensions, has just been vastly entertained by a cheery announcement in the “Personal” classification. Lest, there be any misunderstanding, let it be clearly stated that “serious enquiries” are specifically invited. I will quote verbatim. “To let, furnished, or would sell, hideous-looking house —but well planned and comfortable beyond description; three large sunny rooms in which to stretch or swing several 0.9. eats; five sleep-induc-incr bedrooms, two fitted h. and c., bath, usual etc., (3); electric light, central heating, gas, main drainage, manageable garden, 14 minutes station, 30 Baker Street buses for Scotsmen. . Oh yes! Company’s water with Permutit softener system thrown in; wireless mast, garage and dog kennel.” 1

THE McCARDIE TOUCH. Trust a sweet simple bachelor like Mr. Justice McCardie to put his foot into it. Husbands, who in the past have had more than a sneaking regard for the temerity of some of his anti-feminist judgments, are now wondering if they have been backing the wrong horse. The feminine genus, whose long-suit is the lifting of a trenchant phrase from its context is having its royal field day, thanks to the judge. “Nothing brightens a womans life like a new dress.” This is the heaven-sent ray of psychological sunshine that is piercing the gloom of the domestic economy cloud, from Mayfair to Mile End. At the moment Mr. Justice McCardie would be the feted lion at every palais de dance in the kingdom. For that one scintillating sentence now blazons forth as the proud leitmotiv of window dress displays, and has been joyously appropriated by enterprising advertisers in the Press. Mr. Justice McCardie has done more for the dress merchants than all the mannequin parades to soft lighting and sensuous melodics. I MEN EMBROIDERERS. In addition to numbers of ex-service men, Debrett and the stage are both represented in the growing list of men embroiderers who take their craftsmanship very seriously, and turn out remarkably fine specimens of this ancient art. Lord Gainford, Lord Huntingfield, and the Hon. Angus Holden are all outstandingly clever at the work, and embroidery 'has long been the absorbing hobby of Mr. Ernest Thesiger, who has innumerable achievements to his credit in the most difficult designs. A sample of Lord Gainford’s skill—a perfectly embroidered cushion —is to be seen at the Needlework Exhibition. Beautifully worked seats and backs for two Chippendale chairs bear witness to Lord Huntingfield's penchant. A wonderful cushion also demonstrates Mr. Holden’s embroidery flair, and it adorns a glazed chintz sofa in his very individualistic house in Ebury Street. ■ THE PERFECT HUSBAND. There must have been some feminine smiles at C-leckheaton Marketplace when Sir John Simon gave his audience threequarter* of am hour of electioneering

eloquence. Sir John attributed the excellent condition of his speaking voice to the tender ministrations of his charming wife. She has been plying him -with a wonderful drink. “It is the finest thing in the world,” said Sir John, “and it is my wife’s recipe. You squeeze the juice of a lemon into a glass and take a spoonful of honey and a little boiling water; then stir slowly until the water gets a bit cool.” No wonder Sir John and Lady Simon are so constantly cited as the perfect example of the happy marriage. To receive full credit, on a public platform, as the one and only originator of a household nostrum handed down by generations of great* grandmothers is not the lot of ordinary wives. “AUTUMN CROCUS.* I hear Basil Dean has an option on the next two plays written by Dodie Smith, of “Autumn Crocus” fame, who i* still carrying on with her regular, work in a West End store. She will be in the same enviable category, if she never writes again, as the world-renowned novelist who out of one book made a comfortable fortune, and the author of a best-seller film who seemed unable to repeat the recipe as before. The axiom that everyone has one good book in them seems to be acted upon by an ever-in-creasing number of literary aspirants with gratifying results. Modern libraries display an intriguing leaven of isolated masterpieces amid the uniform collected editions of more prolific writers. 1 HEALTHY BABIES. To the credit of the recent summer, which has so many black marks against it, should be placed the fact that it was an exceptionally healthy one. A lady, who is much interested in baby welfare centres, tells me that at a conference of workers the other day it was revealed that never since the movement started have there been so few ailments. Probably the abundance of rain and the consequent lack of dust was a primary factor. On the other hand, it is feared that owing to the absence of sunshine a certain "impairment of vitality may have taken place, and that the results will be seen in more illness during the winter. It is commonly supposed that these welfare centres are used only by the poor; that is by no. means the case. Young mothers in fairly good circumstances are glad to avail themselves of skilled advice so easily accessible. WOMEN AND RAGING. Though nowaday* are invading all the age-old masculine monopolies, there still remain some professions and callings from which they are barred. Curiously enough, the most adamantine of these unchivalrous exceptions has to do with activities in which the fair sex has displayed exceptional keenness and success. We have lots of successful women owners and many good women jockeys nowadays. Yet the pundits of the Jockey dub obstinately refuse to grant a license to a woman trainer of racehorses. Even so, at least one woman has acted sub rosa, in that specialist capacity. The late Sir Robert Wilmot’s daughter, Miss Norah Wilmot, who knows as much about horses as anyone in male riding breeches, for some time conducted her father’s stable, though the necessary license from the jockey chib had to bear the name of her head lad. ' NOBEL PRIZEWINNER. The publication of “The Wild Orchid,” bv Madame Sigrid Undset, the Norwegian novelist, is universally hailed as an outstanding literary event. Madame Undset was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1928, and shares this almost wholly masculine distinction with only one other woman, Grazia Deledda, the Italian novelist. Sigrid Undset’s original ambition was to become an artist, but she abandoned this dream on the death of her father, a professor of archaeology, and pluckily set to work io earn her living as a typist. But almost every moment of her epare time was devoted to writing, and with the publication of her three-volume novel “‘Kristin Lavransdatter,” success was assured her. She spent years in studying the mediaeval archives of Norway to get the correct historical setting for this great work. A ROYAL “PAULINA.” Coincident with the marriage of Lady May Cambridge, hereelf an old “Paulina?’ is ths publication of a charming book of reminiscences by Miss Frances K. Gay, the first High Mistress of St. Paul’s Girls’ School. It is rather a pity about its Chaucerian title, “And Gladly Wolde he lerne and Gladly Teche,” because it in no sense conveys the delightfully unpedantic and engagingly conversational atmosphere of the book. Its erudite author is completely guiltless of what one may call the hornrim complex. Her literary style has •none of that bluestocking rigidity too I frequently displayed by scholastic ladies. I Typical alike of the spirit of the author

and of the school is the attitude io anxious parents inquiring whether, in so “mixed” a school, their daughters are likely to make undesirable social contacts. Not the least fascinating chapter is that concerned with the truly amazing variety of the “Paulinas’ ” careers which include all the most modern feminine vocations.