LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6379, 26 October 1888, Page 1

LITERATURE.

MRS DOUBLEDAY'S DANCE.

ITrutK) (Concluded.) The astonishment of the Donbledays reached its zenith when, a few days later, notes of acceptance from all the gentlemen came to hand. - ' ' , "I don't grudge the money a bit ! cned Hra Doubleday, delightedly, as she opened one be-poronetted and be-monogrammed envelope after another. "Our dance will sow be such a Buccess that Mrs Bonamy will be ready to burst with envy." "And Bee here!" exclaimed Miss Rosalind, with a gasp of delight. «* Mr Albert Gayleigh is coming ! " '#"# * * # Though Mrs Bonamy had refused to allow a formal engagement between her daughter and young Gayleigh, Bhe was wise enough not to forbid him the house, and so drive the girl to take some imprudent step. "I can trust you, Ada," she said to her daughter, in a moment of confidence; "therefore I don't think it necessary to «xcite the curiosity of our friends by refusing to receive Mr Gayleigh." And bo the lovers met frequently, both in Mandragoi-a Gardens and in society, and had plenty of opportunities of swearing mutual fidelity. It was on one of these occasions that Ada questioned Albert as to the reason why he had accepted Mrs Doubleday's invitation for the 17th, Miss Rosalind having taken care to inform her " dear Ada " of that fact " You always said you would refuse all fcheir invitation3,"Miss Bonamy finished, with a reproachful glance. , w So I did; but circumstances over which I have absolutely no control render it imperative that I Bhould accept Mrs Doubleday's present invitation," answered Gayleigh uneasily. He was a bad hand at keeping a secret, and Ada was looking bo dietractingly pretty that evening that when Bhe begged him to explain himself he knew that he must eventually tell her everything. "Ton Bee— if 8 — it's a matter of business," he stammered. "You know that my affairs have been, and are still— worse luck — in a most unsatisfactory state; in short, that I owe a good deal of money/ " Oh ! Albert, why willyou be so extravagant? But what has the fact of your owing money got to do with your going to Mrs Doubleday's dance ? " " It's a queer sort of story to tell a girl like you, darling and " "I insist on being told it," exclaimed the young lady, with sparkling eyes. "If we are to have secrets from each other, I will never speak to you again — and I'll marry the first man who asks me ! " Albeit capitulated without a moment's delay ; and in hesitating tpneß began : — "You see, my dearest girl, when a man gets very hard up he generally goes to a money-lender — at all events, — I did. I ■went to a fellow called Abraham Morella, a Jew, and borrowed money of him on my note-of-hand — you don't know what that is, of course— it's a sort of glorified pawnticket; but one has to pay for it, like any other luxury. This is what I, unfortunately, find a difficulty in doing ; in plain language, sometimes I can't pay the interest on the debt, and then I have to propitiate Mrs Morella." "Oh 1' then the horrid man has a wife ! " interrupted Ada, in a tone of surprise. " Fancy anyone marrying a money-lender !" Albert smiled. " Oh yes," he replied, and Mrs Morella is an active partner in the firm. Do you ever read the advertisements in the Morning Trumpeter, Ada ? " "Yea, sometimes." "Then perhaps you have seen Mrs Morella's. She advertises herself as a lady of position, who gives advice and that sort of thing to other ladies ; but the truth is that she supplies hostesses with dancing-men. Yes, it is really a fact," he asserted, seeing the look of incredulity on the girl's face, " and the unlucky fellows •who sure, bo to speak, in Mr Morella's power, because they owe him money, constitute Mra Morella'B dancing brigade. You see she haa a lot of influence over her husband, and if we keep in favour with her, old Abraham does not press us for the interest on our notee-of-hand. Mrs Morella, too, likes to do a stroke of business on her own account, so she charges her customers or clients, or whatever else Bhe calls them, two guineas a head for the men she supplies," added Gayleigh, ruefully. "I don't understand," cried Ada in bewilderment. Do you mean to say that this horrid money-lender's wife lets you out on hire, like so many dancing dogs ?" Albert winced. " Yes ; but you see, Ada, we can't help ourselves. Hwe didn't conciliate ]V.o Morella by accepting the invitations sent to us, old Abraham would refuse to renew our bills, and then———" " Albert ! " interrupted the young lady, abruptly, " do you think that Mrs Doubleday is going to get all the men for her dance from Mrs Morella's — menagerie ? " "I dare say she is/ answered Gayleigh, xrith a miserable &mile. "Then, dearest, I believe that with your help, -we can spoil the Doubledays* dance j and then— and then mamma will be so pleased that perhaps she will relent towards you, for she told me the other day that ehe would give anything to make the dance of the Doubledaya a failure. Now, juat listen to me." The young lady Bank her voice to a whisper, and Albert lent an attentive ear. " But we should want money to carry out your plan," he replied , when she had unfolded her scheme; "nearly £50 I should eay/' "Then we must take mamma into our confidence," said Ada ; " ihe won't grudge the money, I know." After that Gayleigh made no more objections. The hope of winning Mrs Bonamy's consent to his engagement sharpened his wits, and the two conspirators having arranged their plot in all its details, parted in a, very happy and sanguine frame of mind. The next day Albert received a cheque for £50 from Mrs Bonamy, and thus furnished - with the sinews of war, he proceeded to carry out his plans with regard to Mrs Doubleday's dance. The eventful evening came at last. Mrs Doubleday and her daughters, resplendent in new gowns, jewels, and 6mile3, awaited their guests with outward cairn, but with inward trepidation. They wexe all a little nervous in regard to their unknown gue&ts. Mrs Bonamy and Ada arrived in good time, and were soon followed by GayleighThe punctual appearance of the latter: seemed to the Doubledays a sort of guarantee that the other men provided by Mx&, Morella would turn Tip in doe -course. The rooms were fitting fast, but the prer ponderance of the fair sex was becoming painfully apparent. The girls began to finger their blank programmes, and to exchange significant glancea, while their mammas whispered to eaoh other behind their fans. "I wißh those men would come; it is nearly eleven o'clock, and danoing must begin soon," murmured the eldest Miss Donbleday to one of her ekters. '*Oh ! ihere they are ;" she added, with * sigh of telier 1 , as a group of men appealed «t the 'utnittce- of. the^aßwroom. .JbxHSL^stue^

glided forward to her mother's side to help her to receive the new-comers. They came in detachments of five, and through some mischance their names were not announced by the 'temporary groom-of-tbe-chambera. This was a vexatious contretemps, for they had looked forward to hearing these aristocratic patronymics loudly proclaimed. Smothering, however, their disappointment as best they might, the intrepid ladies advanced smilingly, resolved to put a bold face on the affair, and to receive their unknown guests as if they were the friends of years. The dancing Adonises did not look as wellbred or as well-dressed as their aristocratic names would have led one to expect. To tell the truth, a shabbier, seedier, queererlooking eet of men never entered a lady's drawing-room as guests. " Well done, my dear Albert ! " whispered Mrs Bonamy in Gayleigh's ear, after inspecting the advancing band through her glasseß. " May I introduce you to a partner ? " said the eldest Miss Doubleday hesitatingly, to a red-nosed man with a cabbage-rose in his botton-hole. "Thanks, Miss, but I can't dance," he replied, nervously. And the same question was put to the whole gang, and received the same answer. "Lunch with us to-morrow, dear Mr Gayleigh, and tell us how you did it," whispered Mrs Bonamy, half-an-hourlater, as the delighted young man handed her and Ada into their carriage, " thanks to you, this wonderful dance has been a comvletofiasco. * # * * „# " Sowdidldo it? " said Albert, next day, as he sat in Mrs Bonamy's drawing-room, looking very much at home. " Why, like this. The day after Ada and I had arranged our plans, I called on Mrs Morella, and havin g carefully prepared the ground , I ventured to bring up the subject of Mrs Doubleday's dance. Mrs Morellaat once launched into a tirade against the meanness and parsimony of that lady. Little by.little, I learnt that our amiable hostess of last night had beaten down the purveyor of dancing-men, only having given the latter half her usual terms. This, of course, made my task comparatively easy, Knowing that, whatever happened, Mrs Doubleday would not dare to expose her, Mrs Morella readily agreed to second me when I proposed to substitute for the aristocratic danseurs who were to be on duty last night at No. • 15, thirty waiters " "Waiters! Splendid!" cried Mra Bonamy, clapping her hands. " Provided by me for the modest sum of ten shillings a head," continued Albert. "And it really was a charity to the poor fellows, as, besides their ten shillings, they had an excellent supper, which they seemed to enjoy most thoroughly/