FOLLY OF WOMAN.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6362, 17 December 1898, Page 2

FOLLY OF WOMAN.

(_4rgosy.) " Seriously, Eve, you don't thins of going to the Orde-Lauristons' to-morrow night?" " Quite seriously, my dear Betty, I do." Mrs Allonby smiled languidly fron^anmong her sofa cushions, and drew the fur rug thrown over her closer, with an involuntary shiver. " But — but ought you to go?" Betty Holmwood murmured diffidently. She was only twenty. Eve Allonby represented to her girlish enthusiasm the'sum of all feminine perfection ; in impugning her idol's wisdom she felt herself perilously near ■*f*Tn***itting . .sacrilege. .'" Remember, on Monday you could scarcely lift your head from your pillow." " And to-day is Thursday, and I am virtually quite well. I can't consent to be made an invalid of any longer, whatever you and Doctor Carmichael may say." "I shouldn't have imagined," Betty said ruefully, " that you would have cared so very much-: ** '''" About one of Eleanoi* Orde-Lauriston's crushes? Oh, if that only were in question, I'd. willingly stay at home ! But there is Walter. I hate disappointing him ; besides, he really ought to put in an appearance at this party. AU the political people will be there." "Can't he go without you?" "You know he never cares to go anywhere without me " — reproachfully. " I know. Still, I should think " Bettv checked herself suddenly. ."Ah, you think many things!" Mrs Allonby half laughed, half sighed. " Wait till you've been married five years, my child. ! *en you'll understand that your husband's fancy for having you always with him is not one to be trifled with. Also, that if a woman wishes to keep a man's comradeship, to be his friend of friends, she must prepare to wage war with feminine laziness. No man will put up with a comrade who ' fails out ' whenever she becomes the least little bit footsore." " It's the man's business to call a halt as soon as she feels tired," Betty declared. "Ancl the woman's, if she's wise, to prevent his guessing- that she does feel tired," Eve retorted. " I often marvel at the folly of wives whom I overhear boring their husbands to death with the taJe of their petty ailments. In my own case — but perhaps you may say that mine is an exceptional case "—flushing painfully. '* It is, undoubtedly. When the balance of age lies so much on the wrong side " " My dear Eve," the girl protested hastily, "surely you needn't take that point into consideration ! To begin with, you look years younger than Mr Allonby. Everyone says so." Betty's exuberance of feeling occasionally found Vent in a corresponding recklessness of speech. But in.her present desire to console, she was not guilty of rhetorical exaggeration. Nov unprejudiced observer, setting Eve Allonby— still, at four and thirty, combining the slender grace, and- delicate colouring of girlhood with that higher and deeper beauty found only in the face, of the woman who has thought and loved and sorrowed—beside the man who entered her morning-room as Miss Holmwood left' it, would have supposed her his equal in age, much less his elder by a round half-dozen years.' Walter Allonby was one of those heavily handsome' men who cease to look young before they have weil put off the schoolboy's jacket. At twenty-eight he might easily have passed for thirty-five — and exceedingly comely thh'ty-five", be it understood. Tall, broad-shouldered, straight of limb' and hard of muscle, with a. fresh complexion and placid, ox-like eyes, Eve's husband might nave sat appropriately for a picture of the true-bom Englishman" of a certain type and class— the class which dresses faultlessly and fares sumptuously every day ; the type which, happily conscious of blamelessness in all works of law, contemplates life habitually through the smoked glasses of a perfect self-satis-faction, thereby blurring its perception of many facts that, more vividly apprehended, might ruffle its serenity and impair its appetite. '".■ " . . ," Mr Allonby, on leaving Oxford, had been called to the bar ;' but he had never attempted tq practice. , Having a sufficient private income, he could afford to indulge at once his d'slike of drudgery and his ambitions — which lay in the direction 6f a political career. A promising speaker and good man of business, he took pains to make himself useful in both capacities to his party. And " the party " had lately acknowledged his services— by recommending h'm to an East Anglian constituency which had no candidate of. the right colour, in reserve against the forthcoming general election. Just now— between nursing this constituency, extending, his social connections (he held that, to the furtherance of his larger ends, it was highly important he should "get on in society"), and indulging in tho?e healthful sports which, as he was fond of telling his rural audiences, "have made Englishmen what they are "^-_lr Allonby had little time to spare. If was unfortunate that Eve-^a model wife, who seconded him with unflagging zeal in all his .schemesshould" happen to be Mid aside at such a juncture:' Besides, her usefulness apart, he missed her- hourly companionship. - No one else understood him so perfectly,'sympathised so completely with his aims, or watched with so" keenly attentive an 'eye the effect of his speeches* — or his boundary drives — on a critical crowd. " Better? Really? Quit© yourself again ?"

lie inquired anxiously, coming up to her sofa- •" That's right ! Then you won't be afraid to attempt the Orde-Lauristons' to morrow?" ■-..-.•• "Not a bit," Eve responded, sitting up bravely. She had thrown-, off her furs and raised herself . from her recumbent position as soon as she heard her husband's '." And I can let Holroyd know that he may expect us on Monday?" - - .. " Monday ? I thought the. stone-laying, at ! Marpleton •"— Marpleton is- the chief .town of that county division for which Allonby j hoped shortly to write himself down member — " was fixed for Wednesday?" iSo it is; but Eolroyd has arranged for me to play round the Marpleton links with Naylor on Tuesday morning, and .;• -he thought I had better have a walk over the coiirse first. So Monday was suggested.".. ! • •!• I see. How would it be if I joined you at, : the Holroyds' on Tuesday, then ? Of course, I "must bs there for Wednesday's ceferaony ■" " "'■' "'"' • '■'■ ' •■• ' " ; "But you'd like to go round with " the match, wouldn't you? And' there's" no morning, train that would get you there inl time. We start at eleven." i Mrs Allonby suppressed an inclination to i laugh — possibly one to sigh also. ■ ' ; : !• Oh, in that case it had better be Monday I for both of us!" "" i i' Very well. 11l send Charles to the post office with a wire at once. And, Eve" — jwusnng in the doorway—" could you get up, a little impromptu dinner on Saturday, do ! you tliink? Just eight! people or sc— to m«et Mallinger? I know he'd like! to coifie." . "'The thing is difficult, but it shall be done,' " quoted Mrs Allonby, nodding her husband lightly out of the room. ".. . It proved difficult— in another sense than that in which Eve had . spoken or Walter understood the word. Mrs Allonby did not know, till she took pen in. hand, how absurdly weak that "slight" attack. of influenza 11' ad left her. " , . .. ... '. "The demon, is playing havoc with my neryes— after his accustomed, fashion, I su,npose," she thought, on finding herself ready to jweep because she had. directed two envelopes upside down. " But. he shan't have | the better of me ; I won't .give way l' ? | she did not give way. She appeared ir. Mrs Orde-Lauriston's crowded rooms the following evening as brilliant and gay as resolution and one of Rose Feuillet's most successful creations could make her ; thus arousing the virtuous indignation of Mrs Cotterell, her husband's aunt. ,- • "The way young women nowadays — and especially young married women — spend their lives (and risk them) in .the headlong chase after amusement is positively shocking, to my mind," this excellent person declared to old Lady Holm wood, '.'Look at my nephew's wife !" She nodded fiercely towards the 'comer where Eve, smiling oye'r the posy of hothouse flowers, with which Walter had presented her "on her return to the stage," was holding three men in talk at once. "At the beginning of the week she was in bed,, with a doctor looking grave about the state of her lungs. And j there she stands — with the thermometer twelve degrees below zero— tempting Providence in a low-necked gown !" "A very pretty gown," Betty's grandmother commented approvingly, turning hei head and her long-handled glasses in. Mrs Allonby's direction; "and particularly, becoming 'to Eve. Except that she "is a trifle pale, I have never seen her in more charming looks." Could Mrs Allonby have overheard this flattering expression of opinion, her mmd — much tormented by doubt on the' subject of her personal appearance— might have ; found rest. As it was, her secret anxiety betrayed itself in a hasty appeal to_ Betty : "What do you think of me?" " The frock's a dream"! Betty responded with heartfelt enthusiasm. ... "Oh, the frock is well enough, I know!" —impatiently. "But I— l myself? Do 1 look like the death's head at this feast of reason?"— glancing with a faint curl of the lip, along the range of oyertlironged. rooms in 'which a number of suffering men and women were engaged in practically demonstrating the compressible quality of the human body, and trying to look as if they found the process agreeable. "Am I fit to appear among my fellows?" The words were light. But the speaker's eyes hung on Betty's for an answer. * Betty was highly reassuring. " You are exquisite. Just like a spray of white lilac— or stephanotis. But, oh, Eve, I wish you were at home, away from the heat in here and the draughts outside. Promise me, at least, not to stay late?-' Mrs Allonby touched the girl's arm caressingly with her fan. "You foolish, tender-hearted, child!" (There had been a suspicion of., tears in Betty's pleading voice.)' "I promise— on the faith and honour of a gentlewoman. As soon as Walter has done with Sir John Mallinger — a mere candidate must, needs be patient with an ex-minister, let him be never so prosy — we will depart. . _I dare say they will have had their talk out in another five minutes." . -..-••. • Mrs Allonby underrated the charms of political conversation. Sir John Mallinger's further comments oh the . position of national affairs and the prospects of Mr Allonby's return for the Marpleton division of Loamshire occupied fully a quarter of an hour ; and his retirement only left Walter free to cultivate the good graces of other distinguished persons who happened to be present. Not till it was growing very late indeed did he find himself at leisure to propose taking his wife home. By that time Eve was frankly tired out. She'had some difficulty in not falling asleep as soon as she found herself in the carriage. But Walter was in a talkative mood. So once more will triumphed over weakness. "I suppose you saw Arthur Chalotierr ' he remarked, when the sayings and civilities of Sir John Mallinger and his colleagues bad been sufficiently discussed^;..... .. "Across the room' only; I thought he looked out of spirits. Was Mrs there?'" '•' -' ' •" '■ ' ' " No. She's laid up with one of .her many maladies— so I understand from Chabner. Poor beggar! I'm awfully sorry for him ; that woman's a perfect millstone about his t neck. He can't even ask a friend to dine, because she's 'not equal to seeing people!' Of course, he is dropping out of notice in consequence. An invalid wife plays the deuce "with a man's social career." Here Eve, who had stretched out her hand to shut the carriage- window, drew it back abruptly. • . "To say nothing of all she costs him in ' fashionable doctors and German baths. You don't object to that window. " Right— the fresh air is good for you after those stifling rooms." Mrs Allonby did her best not.to shiver m the freezing blast euphemistically described as "fresh." • • ■ • "Mabel Chaloaier looked very ill when I 1 saw her three weeks ago." - , 1 " " I daresay ! The last time I saw her— that must be three months sinee — she had become a perfect hag. And I remember her quite a pretty girl ! But this is what becomes of that abominable sofa-and-brqiig-ham system 'you women take "to so readily. I beg your pardon,' Eye ! Thank' heaven, you never inclined to be uynocHondriacal !" * Mrs Allonby laughed fainVly tit the fervour of her ' husband's- tone. ;i<i l "shook -off that influenza pretty quickly, didn't I?" '•; ' . " Because you behaved with spirit, and refused to shut yourself up— just to please old Carmichael. I wish he could have seen you to-night! Do you know that Karakoff was asking for an introduction, ' to that very distinguished beauty in white,', just before we left? There's a feather in your cap." . Eve laughed again. But during the next few- days, amid all the discomforts ; of that relapse which "followed nrcessarilv upon her act of imnruder.ee, she recalled the pride", with which Walter, had quoted the Russian diplomatist' s flattering epithet, and con 'g r atulated herself that she. had '.' made an effort-". . . . 7 . -. . , , . When Prince Karakoff met her again, five months later,- he was le'is lavish 'of admira- " That the lovely Aft s Allonby. of last winter?" ve 'queried., shaking his. t " bald head niourhfu^v- "Yon surprise ' me.. On' my honour. I should not have known the .lady '^It seems that, : riven a heart- and lungs which have been " touched " by the jntVueDZ£l fiend; a regimen of party-giving' and narty-going, of golf-playing over wind-swept links a n( i stone-laying' in driving sleet, may work as sorrowful havoc with the pai flgnt'fli good looks as that sofa-and-broug-

ham course so uncompromisingly con- j demned by Walter Allonby. . ', Walter ' Allonby's wife* recognised this truth, yet she continued the regimen. She continued it, because she durst riot, for her life, flag hi that arduous business of keep- j ing step, lest her husband should remember > that she was six years older than he. | . Rembering tiat miserable fact always herself, having it constantly before her mind, j she watched her beauty fade \ri*A daily increasing terror — terror of the fatal moment when Walter, in whose eyes she could already discern, puzzled . disapproval of her , changed appearance, should read in the eyes of others that his wife was become a plain, sickly, passe woman. His position, as an embryo politician without great wealth or great connections, was not such as to compel social consideration for her. Such modest success as she had won in the great world was due (she knew it) to her own fair, face and bright wit. Now both these weapons of attraction had failed her* at once (it was so difficult to be amusing when allone's energies are absorbfed in doing battle with phy- j sical weakness!) and society, carelessly cruel, was beginning to show its consciousness of her losses. When, at a certain great ball, three successive blank spaces confronted her on her programme, she knew that'the hour of doom was ready to strike. Desperate, she turned from those signifi- i cant blanks to look up into the face of a. tall, soldierly man standing near, demanding in her most winning manner : " How is it that you haven't invited me to tread a measure with you to-night, kinsman?" Major Everard started, and liis grave face paled under its layer of sunburn. Of- late years he had grown chary of asking Ins cousin Eve to dance with him. She had never, even in girlhood, suspected the nature of his feelings for her, never divined the existence of that silent, selfless devotion which hekept so carefully hidden in -the most secret recesses of his chivalrous soul. Yet was he^scrupulous "in the matter of offering her attentions which he would ; have paid without thought to 'any-other woman. " I- 1 — I didn't suppose you would condescend so far," he stammered. "I'm' not a first-class performer, you know." ' "It's so lo*g since we danced together. I really can't place you !" Eve smiled back. " Let's have a trial turn now." Once, twice, they floated around the great ballroom. Then Everard felt his partner's fingers close convulsively unon his sleeve, and heard her whisper hoarsely : " Get me out of this place — quick ! Somewhere quiet — where people won't see." • Mechanically — feeling her weight grow every moment heavier on his arm — Everard made, his way out of the crowded dancingroom and through a short gallery into the conservatory beyond. There Eve fell into a chair, panting and speechless. Terrified by her ashen face, and the ominous blue line around her drawn mouth, the man looked about him distractedly — divided between fear of leaving her and anxiety for help. She beckoned to him reassuringly with a fluttering hand. '' It's nothing;. I'm a little overtired ; I shall be better — presently. Some water — ! from the fountain !" ' " Ke espied an empty lemonade glass on a neighbouring table, brought the water in it; and wetted her forehead liberally with a dripping handkerchief. ' Still the piteous struggle for breath went on. ■" I'll cali someone," he muttered"; and would have started off but for her eager cry of : " Don't do anything of the kind ! I want no one! If you bring anybody here I'll never speak to you again ! See, I'm nearly well already !" He paused, afraid to stay, still more afraid to go in the face of that passionate appeal. And gradually her breathing became less laboured, her pallor less ghastly. At the end of five minutes she sat up, saying quite cheerfully : " That's over. Poor Tom ! What a nuisance for you ! Ido hqpe " — with a quick frown of anxiety—" that Walter didn't notice. Was he in the ballroom when we came away?" " . '..'"''. "I think — not." ■ - •■ • ■ ■ With a sigh of relief she began putting the little damp curls on her fdrehead into ! order. •' My hair feels as if I'd been in the sea. Really, Tom, you might have had more regard for my appearance." " I never thought about your appearance at all," was the Major's blunt answer. " And I suppose it doesn't much matter— of course you'll go home now?" . j "Not at once. I don't want to spoil yv aiter's evening." The -Major bent his brows. "Was it for his pleasure you came here to-night?" , Eve sprang at once to arms. " For my own. I'm afraid— principally. I love dancing ; I'm a perfect child where a ! ball is in question. By-the-way, Tom, you undervalue your powers. I'll give you the third and the fifth at Lady Holmwood's. tomorrow if you like." "You mean to go to another dance toi morrow?" said Everard, appalled. I " Most certainly ; -why not?" ! "Why not?" Everard's tons was more than half angry now. "Because you are totally unfit for this life of hurry and fatigue and excitement. You look ill ; you are j iU—we have just had abundant proof of that. If you go on in this fashion, you will do yourself some serious mischief. What has "come over you? When you were a young girl in your first season, you could ! give up -parties 'philosophically enough. And r.cw — now — " " Now that I am old enough to know better, I will not forego a single evening's amusement, you would say?" Eve had grown very white again ; her lips were quivj ering. " Even so, sage moralist. You see, i I'm gainfully conscious that, being so old, I shall have few more opportunities of dancing, and niust needs make the most of those that remain.'' ""Even at the risk of'killing yourself?" - " Have you .never heard of a short life and a liiern- b'ne? You needn't trouble yourself to assume that -disapproving air"; sir. j don't mean; to sink into an : uged invalid before necessity compels" me; just 'to gratify prudent persons like yourself!" | In such airy fashion did she bear down his arguments^ — being, indeed, for the moment really gay, since, had not this business of " the attack "—she never gave it any more definite name— tided her safely over those terrible blank spaces? Shednsisted on returning to mingle at once with the crowd ; and when Betty, an hour later, ventured a low-voiced remonstrance, grounded on her friend's air of suppressed suffering, she was repulsed with : — . •• My dear, it's not civil to tell people they are too ugly to be abroad. If I had a cough which disturbed the company's peace of mind I would retire at once." . ("Thank heaven! my ailments have never taken such tangible form !"' she thought to herself.) " But in this free country I presume a woman may be permitted to look as ill as she likes." When Major Everard. stepped out of his . hansom at Lady Holmwood's-door the following evening, he felt certain— miserably certain — of finding Eye among -her guests. There had been strong and serious purpose underlying his cousin's light- speech; Something — very far removed from reckless love of pleasure^ — was driving her. remorselessly upon this suicidal course- which he,. aAd every other human being save one, stood. powerless to arrest. Dance music was sounding as: he crossed the hall; but just as he reached; the foot of the staircase it ceased, sharply, suddenly, in the middle of a bar. And his first sight of the ballroom on the upper floor showed him no array of ordered couples, but a veritable mob of black-coated men and barenecked, bejewelled women pressing towards a doorway at the further end, with subdued exclamations of — ' " She's dead !'' " No, no — it's only a fainting fit !" " Heart, I suppose ; she looked appallingly ill at Preston House last night. " "Is her husband here?" "Not yet ; coming on later." " Someone ought to send for him." With scant ceremony; Tom Everard elbowed his way through the swaying," murmuring throng into the little room— draped and sliaded to a_s6'ft (/loom for "sitters out" —where, on a heap of cushions, Eve Allonby lay white and motionless: An elderly man— a," great physician who had brought his daughters to the ball — bent over her, ; holding her left wrist in his fingers-. ' Lady Holmwood, pale and shaking, was at the

| head of the couch ; at the foot knelt Betty, , crying 'helplessly: As Everard. walking like a man in a [ dream, came close to the group, the elderly t man drew back, with an ominous shake of i his grey head ; and the still figure on the ' cushions, stirring slightly, opened its eyes. Stooping, in hid turn, the major caught the old, pitiful whisper — " It's nothing — overtired. I shall be better — presently." A. pause, followed— a moment long as an hour to the man whose own heart seemed to stand still in breathless waiting. Then ! the pale lips moved again — for the last time : "Don't let — mv husband — know." * ♦ * # # # " Poor thing, she courted her fate ! Her folly was positively . criminal. ■ She knew from- Dr Carmichael — whom it seems she had consulted without telling any of vs — ( that her heart was ail wrong. And yet on I the day of her death- site, rode in the park, went to Sandowii. with her husband, and diiied out somewhere—^before coming on to the Holmwood dance! Of course one feels immensely, for. him ; .but, it's. difficult to be very sorry for a woman- ; who deliberately threw away her life— for tie sake of a few parties." This is Mrs Cotterell's verdict — generally allowed to be just by the majority of Eve AUonby's acquaintance. Allonby himself, while missing bis wife terribly, cannot altogether shut his eyes to the recklessness of the behaviour which, deprived him of her ; m him, too, a recognition of her folly has done something to soften the edge of grief. There are, however, a few soft-hearted persons—among them Major Everard and little Betty — who, all her errors notwithstanding, find it easy to mourn poor Eve. And these trive ■ that ." folly," rightly condemned of their less indulgent fellows, another and a gentler name.