"The Ugly Duckling."

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIC, Issue 13840, 27 February 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

"The Ugly Duckling."

Miss Dixon was angry. Her intellectual brow was flushed, her. proud J lips' were curled in scorn, her virginal | bosom, under the impulse of strong | emotion, disturbed the. severe outline Jof her classical gown. She closed the door of the bisons' drawing-room with a bang. Hiss Kitty Dixon shuddered at the' sound, and fearfully observed 'iior .sister's approach. "Will you please explain this?".demanded Miss Diana Dixon, holding a, book at arm's length, as if it were some loathsome reptile.' , . "Where did you get it? You hare been prying into my things," replied Miss Kitty Dixon spiritedly. "How the thing came into my possession has no bearing on the question. I' asked if you cauld explain its presence," said the elder sister coldly. . " VVhat is it?" enquired Mrs Dixon, pausing in the'composition' of a paper she intended to read'nt the-next meeting of-the local literary society. "The title of the book is,'• Cupid's Loving Cup,' and, judging from a fewidiotic extracts, it admirably reflects our dear sister's literary tastes," was the scornful reply. "Kitty, your perversity pains, me," said Mrs Dixon, severely. "Where, is your culture, child? Heaven knows you, have been reared irf an atmosphere calculated to develop the bright flowers of the mind, but you persist in pie- i beianising your intellect with trashy fiction." '

"I am sorry, mamma, but I can't help not being clever," replied Kitty tearfully. "The books you read make my headache, and—and L can't understand what they mean." "Pshaw! I've .no patience with you," broke in Diana. •-" You are a perfect fool. If you are aware of your limitations why don't you maintain a discreet silence ? The last: time Mr Branson-Bamford dined with .us you distinguished yourself by announcing that Carlyle always gave you mental indigestion." "And so he does," replied Kitty, "and Mr Bamford agreed with me."

"Mr Branson-Bamford is tartful as well as gifted," said Diana; "lie wished to'Sparc our'feelings." The Dixons were a superior family. Mr Dixon wrote letters to the newspapers, Mrs Dixon was a vice-president of the local literary club, Mr Roy Dixon was a vegetarian and - a poet, and Miss Diana Dixon, the genius of the family, was a regular contributor to the Feminine Font, a journal of limited circulation but lofty aspirations. The Dixons' literary dinners were famous among the select and superior circle in which they moved, and had it not been for Miss Kitty Dixon the Dixon family would have shone as an undimmed beacon of light, shedding radiance on the ignorant, and illuminating the neighbourhood with their combined refulgence. To- use an expression of Miss Diana Dixon, Kitty was '■' hopeless." She knew more about browning gravies than Browning's poetry, and whilst she could cook an omelette, she could not compose an essay to save her soul. Her tastes, j to again quote Diana, were depraved and vulgar, and she had actually been known to read a portion of the Family Herald, left by the butcher's boy adhering to a joint of beef. She .was pretty, even Diana admitted so much, but the admission, was qualified by the statement that it was an insipid, empty prettiness like the cheap designs on expensive chocolate boxes. Mr Roy Dixon said Kitty was remarkable for a healthy appetite and a starved soul: and Mr and Mrs Dixon could not understand how their youngest daughter obtained her mediocre mentality. '•The child is absolutely bereft of imagination," said Mr Dixon. - "Her temperament is'thafc* of- a chen maid," observed Miss Dixon. " Really, it makes one inclined to throw over the theory of heredity," added Mr Dixon petulantly. . "No, dear; you can't say that when we have Diana* and Roy," replied Mrs Dixon unctuously. "I am sure Mr Branson-Bamford is deeply impressed with Diana's intellect. They would make an ■admirable couple, and Diana would be of inestimable value to Mr Bra'nson-Bamford in his work." Mr Branson-Bamford was the reigning lion of the Dixons' literary circle. He had "arrived" as a writer, and liis stories were in great demand among magazine editors. He was 'a frequent visitor to the Dixons, and it was in his presence that Miss Diana Dixon excelled as an ardent worshipper of the literary gods. On' the morning following Diana's discovery of "Cupid's Loving Cup," Mr Branson-Bamford accepted an invitation to dinner at the Dixons'. The company consisted chiefly of members of the local literary society, and the conversation, of course, was confined to artistic and literary topics. IVliss Kitty, mindful of her sister's rebuke, kept her eyes on her plate, and took no part in the critical and epigrammatic dinner talk.

"Do you ever think we shall ever have another Shakespeare, Mr Bran-son-Bamford ?" asked Miss Dixon, toying with a 'nutty concoction. '• 1 sincerely hope not," replied the lion. " Vou see it would bo so beastly .hard on the other chaps." "Oh, you are ; too .modest," murmured Miss Dixon, sweetly.

"We have no .writers to-day," put in Mr Boy Dixon. "Where can we find men like the-old Greek'authors?" "I love Shelley, he is so melodious," said a long, thin lady with short hair. \

"And Browning, he is so fascinatingly obscure," added a severe lady with pince-nez. "But, really, you know Meredith is all right for a" modern," sagely observed a sallow-faced youth. _

"But give me i'hackery," chimed in Mrs Dixon. " His style is faultless." "I am never tired of Milton. His 'Lycidas' is magnificent," contributed Mr Dixon pompously. " You are verv quiet to-night," said Mr Branson-Bamford to Kitty, who was seated on his left.

" You must pardon -mo," replied Kitty with a wintry smile, "but I am afraid the 'conversation is above my .head.".

"Nonsense," retorted Mr KranspnBamford. "They are all putting their money on a sure, thing, and you can't go wrong if .you mention somebody who has been cloiid long enough. The longer they have boon dead the greater vour appreciation, don't yon know. Just praise Homer, and put in a good word lor Pericles, and throw a crumb to Virgil, and you'll be all right. It vou don't care for the ancients patronise Voltaire, say a word for Poo's weird imagination, talk about Dickens humanity, and you'll have a literary reputation in no time. I assure you it's quite easy when .you know how to do it. But for goodness sake do not mention any author who is not tottering on the'edge of the grave; that would be fatal." "Then I must leave you out ol tlie conversation." replied Kitty, laughing " L don't care, so long as you don t leave me out of your life," said. Mr Branson-Bamford, softly. At this stage Kitty caught Diana s disapproving eye, and, blushing vividly, she returned to a contemplation of her plate. Later, in a corner of the drawing-' room,. Mr Branson-Bamford found an opportunity to renew his conversation with Kitty. The lady with the pincenez was playing Chopin's Sonata in A flat minor, 'and taking advantage of

the rapt attention 'of the. guests Mr branson-Bamford whispered, "How, is it I can never get a chance to see you alone when I come here?" "

'' I thought you . preferred, Diana's company,"- replied Kitty- -evasively. " You know it is yon"1 come to see.!' "But 1 am not a bit literary,'" said Kitty, archly. ,

" That's why I come to see you. You are not literary. You are human. Literature is more or less a bore, but lov« is real, and I love you, Kitty, and'l want you to be my wife."

"But you don't know how sillV I am," replied Kitty, 'softly. " Do* you know 1 am actually fond of •■' Cupid's Loving Cup?' " ■....•

"Let us drink it together," he added; "just you and I."

Kitty always said afterwards ■■tlfjifc she never meant to accept him, but as everyone hi the company was . looking at them she had to stop the. conversation, and the only way that occurred to her was to say,. "Yes." • " "

But Mr Branson-Bamford is quito satisfied, and when people ask • him where he gets his inspiration for his delightful stories he declares lie owes his success to his wife, who is such siii excellent antidote to literary, society.— .Tabes Cornthwaite, in tjie "Manchester Chronicle. ' • .