A Problem in Ethics.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIC, Issue 13939, 26 June 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

A Problem in Ethics.

f (By E. E. Eisner.)

1. Lady Eleanor Barton leaned back in Iter enair with a. look of worry on her chattniug lace. Before her was a tabU covered with letters, papers, and prospectuses. An anotlter table .sat Jier jecretary, writing as it for veiy life, with the morning correspondence at her side.

The sunshine of a bright day Hooded the room, ami through the open window a little breeze whispered of coming summer, and brought with it. across she young green of the park, the subdued hum of district traffic". The room was typical «-r its inmate—luxurious, refined, artistic. The decorations were in green and white; the furniture carefully chosen Sheraton; proof engravings lined the walls, while long rows of wtll-filled liook-cases suggested a more seruus tone, tempered only by the pale go'id of the daffodils -vhieh filled every veso and bowl. Lady Eleanoi t as she sat there, was good to look at, Though the frown yet lined her face. The time was distant when the world vonld say of her, " What a beautifui woman she must have been!" She was beautiful still, though the masses of the dark hair were streaked with grey, the frank brown eyes looked out widimmed upon a dishonest world, and the freshness of the pale, highbred f*;e was still unimpaired. The younger daughter of a duke who had been a prominent membei nf several Ministries, Lady Eleanor Barton possessed every qualification save the will—to be a leader of Kuglfeh society;; but society, in the jjejerai sense, had little attraction for her. She was eclectic in. her tastes, and delisted in her own little coterie, but lur mind was mainly given to pubrc interests. The welfare of the poor — good, bad, and indifferent—had hcen her hobby since girlhood. Her marriage in her second season with Reginald Barton, a wealthy mill-owner and rising politician, had served to :trengthen her natural lient, and to gi fuller opportnnitJ for its activity. "How much she asked at last, "'have yon pnt down for the East End Hospital ?" "Two hundred and fifty pounds,*' replied Miss Moore, whose pen was scratching busily to a memorandum hook.

"How much did I give last year?" "Five hundred pounds, Lady Eleanor," she said —"the same amount as for the previous three years." The frown deepened on Lady Eleanor's face.

'.'l can't give less this year,'' she said; *i but how on earth am I to manage five hundred? Will you read me out the whole list again? Perhaps I can cut down some other amount."

Miss Moore read out slowly: "St. Ann's Maternity Hospital, five hundred pounds; Foundlings' .Jome, five hundred pounds; Governesses" Friendly Society, two hundred and fifty pounds; Home for Waifs and Strays, two hnndrod and fifty pounds; East End Hospital, two hundred and fifty pounds; Home for Incurahh Children, one hundred and fifty pounds; Railway Servants' Widows Fund, one hundred pounds. Total, two tli<-us:m.i pounds." "How many of the cheques have heen sent?" asked Lady Eleanor. "Cheques for the first four." replied the girl, " were sent last night." "Then," said Lady Eleanor, with a sigh, "there's no way out' of it. i certainly cannot leave out th-j last two, nor can T possibly give'iexs io the East End Hospital-than, I -have given for the last four years. When must the cheque he sent?" "At latest to-night," replied Mis? Moore. "The subscription list doses to-morrow."

At this moment came a knock at the door. Lady 'Eleanor looked up quickly, and her face cleared -.s she saw her husband's sturdy figure in tiie doorway. "Good morning, dear!" he said. "I'm so. sorry to interrupt you, hut can yon give nie a minute? T'v; foniething important to tell you:" He gave a look in Miss Moore's- directum.

Lady Eleanor nodded and turned to her secretary. "Will you finish, that renorfc in the library?" she said. "I will come to yon when I am ready." The girl gathered up her papers and left the Toom.

Husband and wife were alone. He took her arm and led her to the window, and the look that passed hetwcii them-left no doubt as to the reality of their loving friendship. "Not bad news." Reggie, d.-ar?" she asked anxiously. "Well, hardly good, I'm afraid.'' he replied, taking a telegram iron: his pocket. ' "Laughley has just sent iru" this—a wire from one's agent, as you know, always means worry —the men at the Barley and Markton Mills went on strike last night, and the tisaflection is spreading." "Oh! my poor l»oy!" she cried, genuine distress in her voice. " "Vhat ;■ cruel worry to yon! And just at this time when yon're so frightfully busy at the House."

" Yes," he said; " it's a had business, and the worst is that one .\in't see the end of it. By .love!" ne went on, and his kindly face grew grave and stern, "it is rather rough on mr. I've never been a harsh and unreasonable master. I've met them in < very possible way; but these last demands are really too much. To concede thepi would be tantamount to closing tht jnills." "Of course you'll have to go down ihere?"

"Yes; I can't get out of tin:. R"f it's horribly inconvenient. I have three important Committee* n ftili swing, and a meeting of the Eastern Insurance on the seventh. My only chance is to go to-day." "Reggie, dear, tell me nnnkly •what does this exactly mean to us?" "I was coming to that," he replied. "It means jnst *.his, Nell—a l.i.ss or something between five hundred an i seven hundred pounds a day while the strike lasts, and, for all I know, ir may last a month. We must cut down every possible expense from tin; moment, and look -arefully at evvr.y sovereign before we spend it. I i-no.v I can count on vou to help inc. I can't bear to have to ask any sacrifice of you." "Dear old man/' she said ; ivp needn't talk of -sacrifice after all these happy vears. I should think yr.u could count, on me." Her law gre» .rrave and thoughtful, then lit up with ludden animation. ' 'Reggie, here s an idea! Why not let the house tor the season?" Barton turned fondly to her. "It's like vou to think of >t. i?car. he said, " hut I can't rob yon of your ■season, and leave you to spend three drearv months alone at Monklands." "My dear hoy." she cried eagerly, "you know how little a season means to" me. 1 shall he perfectly happy in our dear country, and shall have lots to do. You know there are those cottages to build, and the schools are only half done. And you'll come down for" week ends, or as often as you iuiv Don't -worry about me. I shall be perfectlv happy." >-pear Nell," he said, •• there's no

one like you! To toll the truth, 1 had thought of letting, hut I couldn't bring myself to suggest it. By Jove!" ho went on, " now thai I think of it, I met Grantham the other day at the Club, and he told me he was looking for a house. 1 wonder if he's found one. I'm certain lie would offer for this."

Lady Eleanor thought for a inn mont.

'•How odd!" <<]ii> said. " T've just heard from him. I''H,' V Grantham hasn't come up to town yet, hut he's

at Claridge's, and would like us to dine with him to-night. I wanted to see you before replying, and 1 was not particularly anxious to accept, for it's sure to he a bridge evening, and T

don't play the Grantham points. Hut I almost think I will go." " : Do." he said, "and you will very likely he able +o fix up the wlmle a>-_ rangement. Now, I must he off. I'll be hack to lunch if I possibly can, but I've so much to do that it's quite uncertain. Anyhow, you won't wait for me." "Oh! don't disapnoint me," she said. "You know Dick Vandelenr's cominrr?" "T'll do. my best," he replied as lie kissed her lovinglv. He had already reached the door when a sudden thought seemed to strike him. "' By the way. dearest." lie said. " yon talked just now about building those cottatres. That, T'm afraid, must be postponed. I don't want to interfere with your regular charities, but an extra benevolence is one of the luxuries we must deny ourselves for the present." Ladv Eleanor walked slowly into the lihran-. It was characteristic of her. that the thought of her own nlar.s upset, her own pleasure spoilt did not even occur to her. Tfor nr-e thoiurht was that two hundred and fiftv pounds. To feel that it was now out of her rea'-h caused her s»f»ute disappointment and irr'tntion. and filled l*er with a sense of helplessness altogether new to her experience.

"Miss Moore." she said, "will von kindly write and leave on mv tabl" a letter to the secretary of the East-End Hospital, forwarding my cheque for my annual subscription. leaving the amrjint blank both in the letter and cheque-. I can fill this in when I s«nul the Utter to-nigbt. The two other subscriptions can bo sent at once."

At l.'-fl exactlv Major Richard Yandelenr, late 120 th Hussars, knocked at the door c.f 31 Park street, and entered with tht air of a friend of the family. Thn-jnrh there were few houses in which Dt?k V-indeleur was not a welcome giics', there was none to which he himself went with more pennine pleasure. He was one of those happy mortals—f;oo few, alas! in number—who find pleasure in simple things, and who succeed by sheer force of character in getting full value out of a somewhat restricted life. He was essentially a "man's man " shrew?, kiudlv, and straight: as soldier and allround sport =T nan he bare n record hard to beat. His habits yf life were simple, his tastes catholic: lie looted on the other sex with a k<ndlv tolerance and without any ardent desire for closer acquaintance. The one exception he made was in favour of his cousin. Lady Eleanor, who had he?n his plav>nat> in rbl days and remained his layal friend through life.

They greeted each other wnrndv. "So glad you've come. Dh-k." she said, "for I've lots to tell you, butyou'll have to put up with my solitary company." "Don't want any better," 1« replied. " Is'nt Reggie lunching?" "He hasn't come yet, and he"' l ? so busy to-day that it's quite doubtful:

so we won't wait for him. The fact is," she continued, as they sat clown to lunch. " my poor old man has had bad news this morning. The men at two of his biggest mills have gono on strike, and he has to go down there tonight."

"Phew!" said Dick. "That means some —well, some inconvenience, does n't it, to hotli of you?" "Yes, indeed," she replied. '•''Respie told me just now we must pull up sharp, and .as a first stop this house must he let for the season. If we succeed in lettine. I shall go. down to Monklands till July." Dick's face fell. "What an interna! hore!" he said, "I'm really sorry for you hotli—yes, and for myself, too, for 1 shall miss you horrihly, Nell. Who else is there to. guide my tender young feet through the mases of Vanity Fair this season ? T say, it*s a new thing to hear of your heing hard up!" " Why, my dear hoy." she laughed, " I'm iiist like anyhodv else. At this very moment I'm racking my brains to know how to get two hundred and fiftv nounds to-day." "For one of your everlasting charities,' I suppose?" said Dick, chuckling." • . " Yes." she replied, '■' for a chanty to which I'm plelged, and the trouble is that I've already reached the absolute limit of my allowance for charities."

" Whv don't you a.sk Reggie?" "Of course. I should in any ordinary case, although the amount he allows me is so handsome' that 1 should liate to ask for more; but as thin""-' are, and after what he said, it's simply impossible." "Well .then," he said, "it only remains to beg or borrow from sc»e c»e P ] sr — nr to steal. Have you ih-rr-hi of stealing. Nell? It's a resource of b.i«of vour "women acquaintances." " No. I haven't come to thnt vet Rut. seriously, Dick. I, am worried :il<^u f it. The onlv person in the world ' would borrow- from is yourself. and von. inv poor bov. are no good." ' "Not much." said Dick, cheerfully. ' : Six hundred a year all told J But vou're such a genuine case, Nell, of deserving distress that for the first time I really" regret the limits of my income." ■ "I had even thought." J-ady Eleanor went on, with a little grimace, "of selling some diamonds: but all my stones are being cleaned, and, besides, there's no time." Rut Dick was busy with his own thoughts. "I say, Nell," he said at last, "what will von do with yourself at Monklands'? I'm afraid vou'll miss terribly your happv little circle, and those evenings of niild but excellent bridge. I know I shall. Nownere else can I get reallv food bridge at small points. By the "wav. talking of bridge, I heard at White's on mv way up, that there was a devil of a row at Leioostrr House last night. It was « bridgeeveniao-. The Du-hcss of -Wiltshire came m late, and vhen she found she had to cut in at the same table with Acatha Barnes, sle flatly refused to play,'and by all accounts made no secret of the reason.'' "Ladv Agatha Barnes," said Lady Eleanor," with as near an approach to iciness as her gentle voice could assume, "' is reallv too had ! This ought to "ivo the coup de grace to her play in public. Dif-c, how can women in society do things for which a man wculd" be promptly cut or cashiered/ •'Can't sav. I'm sure," said Dick rellec't'ivelv; ""hit I don't think a nice sense <.f 'honorr is exactly the. strong point ff vour amiable sex, do you.' •■1 sup'pose not; in fact, to say so has become a truism. It may licit is. no doubt—true of flu- average woman, but that, J believe is due rather to her training than f<> her nature. As von know, 1 have never felt Biueh drawn to women as a rule, and Uie women 1 do love and understand are, 1 suppose, exceptional."

••It is tidy of the average woman I'm spenkiiigV b e replied, "Good

God, Nell, you don't suppose I was thinking of you, or of women like you ; for there are women like you, no doubt, though one doesn't often meet them." . '-There, are many of us," said Lady Eleanor, with a little flush, "who look on honour, even in small things, as something precious beyond all words, and who would die rather than forfeit it."

The butler entered with a paper in his hand. "Hog pardon, :;iy lady, hut Claridge's have rung up. Lord Grantham's compliments, and may he expect vour'ladvshm to dinner?"

"Capital!" said Dick, as Lady Eleanor gave her message in the. affirmative. " "I'm dining there, too.. We'll amuse ourselves harmlessly at piequet while the others are playing bridge, at' two-shillinn noints —and the dinner's sure to be festive."

The talk drifted into a discussion ol family news, and it was nearly three o'clock when Dick looked at his watch and rose with a start.

"How time flies," he said, "when one lunches with yon! I ought to have left long ago; for I promised to be at TattersaH's at three. Well, we shall meet to-night." "An revoir, old man!" she said. "1 am so glad you're going to be there. The'door closid behind Dick, but opened again immediately, and his t.ilined face appeared. • 1 sav, Nell," he cried, " about .hat two hundred and fifty pounds! \Viiy not harden your heart to-night and" play Grantham's points just for ohi-i-? It's all in a good cause, yon kmiiv, and' you're sure to win—people aiwavs do 'when they're really hard up."". With one expansive grin ho was gone. Lady Eleanor drove to her various calls in a state of mental distress, and played her social part that afternoon witli something less than her accustomed aplomb. Dick's parting shot had told. Here was a simple way of getting her heart's desire. Hut how could she ever think of such a thingshe who had aiwavs set her face against gambling, and, though an excellent bridge player, had never in her life plaved for more titan penny points? Yes, argued the Tempter, but think ol the motive! It would be in a good cause, as Dick had said, and not for selfish gain. Raffles, no doubt, are in principle immoral, but there is not a bishop on the Bench who would not sanction with his approval a raffle, at a church bazaar. The question of the morality or immorality of any act cle- | pends entirelv on its motive. So the battle went on in Lady Eleanor Barton's mind, victory leaning now to this side, now to that, and was still undecided when she returned home for her usual hour's n-st before dressing for dinner. The hurried entrance of Reggie to sav good-bye, on his way to the station, only served to disturb for one brief moment the current oi her thoughts. In the conflict of contending principles she even lost sight for a time of her actual obieet. It was not till she had shaken hands with her host in the drawing-room at C'landge's that she had definitely made up her mind. Prudence and principle had won the dav. . . . "Are von going to chance it.' whispered Duk, as they walked in to dinner. "'Certainly not," she replied, with almost, indignant emphasis, as if the idea had not occurred to her a second time.

■• But von've brought some money with von," he went on, blandly ignoring her tone, his eyes twinkling with fun.

Lailv Eleanor blushed. ••Don't be silly, Dick," she said severely,

"How much?'"' pursued the indefatigable Dick. Lady Eleanor hurst out laughing. " About fifty pounds," she said; "all my available pocket-money. Hick, I simply hate you! /--..' The dinner more than fulfilled Dick's prediction.- Lord Grantham's other quests were Mis Edgar Stratton, a smart, and wealthy young widow, whose native wit was untenipered by any regard whatever for the feelings of other* people, and one of His Majesty's best known Judges, in whose dinner-time disguise, of genial conviviality no one could lijive recognised the E.hadamanthus of the English Beach.

Lady Eleanor, who loved meeting all sorts and conditions of people, felt quite in her element; the dinner was first-rate and beautifully served; she had broached successfully to Lord Grantham the subject of the house, and she would have been entirely happy but for the little worrying thought >f -that extra two hundred and fifty pounds now definitely out of her reach. She sighed, i.u spite, of her . firm decision, when, at the end of dinner, they all followed their host to his private room, where coffee was served and the bridge table .laid out. " Alan Conyngham is coming at ten," said Lord Grantham, "to make up our four. I know it's no good asking you, Lady Eleanor, or you, Vandeleur?" "Principle and penny points," whispered Mrs Stratton to the Judge. The mention of "bridge suggested the incident of the previous night, and for the next few minutes Mrs Stratton's •tongue was -busy with what was left of Lady Agatha's reputation. She revelled in details which .brought a broad smile to the face of the Judge, and a deepening shade of disgust to Lady Eleanor's. A tap at the door interrupted the story at its most thrilling point, hut instead of the expected guest, a letter was brought to Lord Grantham, who exclaimed on reading it:—

"How very annoying! Conyngham is ill with influenza and can't come." He crossed over to the piano, where Lady Eleanor was standing, turning over some music. " ady Eleanor, 1 know you don't care to play our points, .•but will you be really kind and make an exception to-night?" Then in a lower tone, "I would gladly reduce them, only I know that Mrs Stratton will never play for less than her usual points." a For one moment Lady Eleanor stood silent, then in her clear level voice, she replied : "Certainly, Lord Grantham, on condition only that you allow me to leave off if I lose all the money I have with "me."

"Of course,", he said. "It is really very good of you, Lady Eleanor. Shall we begin?" "'Th-p finger'of Fate!" whispered Lady Eleanor to Dick, as she passed to the table. "Come and sit by me and bring me luck." They cut for partners; Lady Eleanor drew the Judge. " Two shillings and fivers as usual, I suppose," cried Mrs Stratton's shrill treble, and the game began. From the very first, luck went steadily in Lady Eleanor's favour. She played her usual sound, thoughtful game with a trace of nervousness, feeling a vague sense of relief in the thought that she was there from no choice or will of her own, but, as- it were, a helpfcnps instrument in the hands of Kate.' The games were interesting and fairly quick; there was no phenomenal scoring, but Lady Eleanor's luck held steadily, and at the end of the fifth rubber she found mi looking at her card that she had a hundred and twenty pounds to her credit.

The time was 1030. The Judge,

mindful of the labours of- the coming day, said lie feared the next rubber must be his last. "Not surely," said Lord Grantham, " it must be my turn to play with you, Lady Eleanor," as they cut a deuce and three respectively. ' But Fate ruled otherwise; Mrs Stratton drew an ace, and the last rubber began with Lady Eleanor and the Judge, as partners'. Mrs Stratton passed the declaration, Lord Grantham laid down a brilliant no-trumpcr,. and they went out with five tricks and four aces.

"Luck has turned," said Lord Grantham. "Sir George, I'll give you the odds, five to two, in ponies?" "No thanks," was the reply "the. points give me all the excitement I want." Lady Eleanor looked at her card and made a rapid calculation. If she won she would gain her wish; if she lost she was still level.

"I'll take you, Lord Grantham," she said quickly. Dick's eyebrows rose perceptibly.

The second game, after a long struggle, fell to Lady Eleanor and the Judge, and the score was " game all." At this point Lord Grantham said:

'"Would you mind if we. moved the table a little nearer the fire-place. These May nights are so chilly, and. I feel a draught from the window." The table was moVed. accordingly. Lady Eleanor sat facing the fire, with Lord Grantham on her left, and the last game began. The score rose slowlv: five hands bad been played. It was Lady Eleanor's turn to deal, her score being twenty, and that of her opponents twenty-four. Tn spite of all her nerve her heart beat quickly, and her hands trembled as she took up her cards. >She had dealt herself six spades to the king, queen, knave,-a singly-guarded king of clubs, three small hearts, and two small diamonds.

"This grows interesting," said Lord Grantham. / Lady Eleanor looked up at the word, and in so doing saw her partner's hand reflected in a Louis XV. mirror, which hung, sloping forward, over the mantelpiece. In one vivid second she had seen the ace and another spade, and five diamonds to an honour. Quicker than lightning flashed the thought, "If I leave it, he must make diamonds, and we lose trick and rubber."..

"No trumps," said Lady . Eleanor, amid a dead silence. * .

Dick, at her..side, gave a little gasp of dismay and astonishment. What on earth was Nell doing Nell, the safest and soundest of players? Then he, too, raised his eyes, and found, in the mirror the answer to his silent question. He sank hank in his chair like a man struck to the heart.

Lord Grantham opened with a club; the trick was taken by Lady Eleanor's king. She led a spade, and just won the odd trick and the rubber. "•'Rather a light no trumper of yours, wasn't-it?" said Mrs Stratton, in tones not all honey, as the men were adding up the score.

■'" Light as it may have been," broke in. Lord Grantham quickly, looking up from his block, "but 1 never saw a pluckier declaration. Lady Eleanor, you were kind enough to play to oblige me, and I'm heartily-glad you've won." As his lordship was one of the truest and best-tempered sportsmen, in all London (qualities not invariably found combined), it, may be taken for granted that he meant what he said. "I find," he, continued, ''that. I owe yon two hundred and sixty pounds, and, if- you'll allow me, I'll write you a cheque for it now. - Must you go at once? , And can't T see you home? But, of* course, I forgot! Vandeleur will look after you. . Where is ' Van-' deleur.vby the Way?"

But :l)iek Vandeleur was not to be found." He .was," in fact, at that very moment opening the door of his rooms in Jermyn street. And as he did so, lie said to hiniselff for the fiftieth time, and"with apression.: .., . i; . vt , ■_ ""Well, I'm' damned!"