"STAR" TALES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7666, 27 March 1903, Page 4

"STAR" TALES.

5/ „- ' * - , NOT ON THE PROGRAMME. ■w • (Pearson's Weekl'j.) "I think it's a beastly yshame !" " What?" cried Carstairs from the sofa. **0.-! you're aAvake, are you?" x "WeH, what's the row, anyhow?" and shifting his head to an easier angle, Carstairs lit a cigarette. r ' "Lester here, wants to play a rubbishy joke, on a man called Chalmers. Remember him. He was a ' blue ' in our year — pulled stroke." • Kather quiet, well-set-up sort of chap — read a lot an 4 never played the billy-goat. .Took orders — or something V . ; • " Exactly. Nowadays he runs what was v Lester's Parish Church in. the latter's days of innocence. Splendid old Sussex Rectory covered in roses and ivy, with a honeysuckle or two climbing the cr — fam " • "Keeps a bee, and so on. I know the sor. of thing." "At present he is organising a bazaar in aid of some local charity," pursued Glen-, non, ignoring the digression, " and has written begging Lester's assistance and that of - any of nis pals. Follow me?" ' "Quite!" ' "Well; what does Lester do but go right off to Bessie Boulter and show her the letter, Of course, the little wretch jumped at the chance of a 'lark' in the country, so Jbehold Lester and she booked for the tmsophisticated hamlet of Hollingdean, prepared to turn it, its unfortunate clergyman and his equally unfortunate flock, into a sort of bear-garden, on Thursday prox." "Yon're booked too, so's Carstairs," 1 drawled Lester with sublime composure ; "told old Chalmers one could sing, the other fiddle." "Well. I'm— hanged!" "No, dear boy, that's a treat in store. Ab for Bessie, she'll help -the cause of Charity wonderfully. Can't you imagine' her high kicking fetching the rustics?" " But the parson, does — *— ?"' "Not he! She's coming down as a respectable concert vocalist. Old Chalmers knows nothing of music-iialls, so he won't tumble— rand won't she knock the rustics when she sings 'Round the Town!' he ad--1 ded enthusiastically. "Oh, I say!" protested Carstairs, "it's _fc little too thick. The" poor parson — he'll *be disgraced — may even lose his 'living.' Churchwardens, you know, would -rather handle a leper than a music-hall artiste." " Of c-qprse, I'll take the blame, if any," said Lester airily. "Chalmers is%mmune from guilt — even his worst enemy wouldn't . * accuse him of anything indecorous. ". • "I must be gom', now," he went on, > tilting his hat to a proper angle, " got to make final arrangements with Bessie. We'll all g«> down together on Thursday morning ■ — first-class reserved — my racket, of course." Lindon and Carstairs gasped slightly. " Oh, by the way," drawled Lester, as he opened the door, "I -forgot to tell you chaps, Bessie has hooked Randown at - last:" .'-... " What a shame !" both men cried in chorus. " Yes-^-he's rather a beastly little pig." "Does she care for him?" " Not she. s But the prospect of being ' her ladyship ' is rather dazzling — at present. Later on — well, I'm -sorry for her — ■ awfully sorry." "Bo am I," said Carstairs. "Bessie has any amount of good points. Pity her lines wereh't cast in pleasanter places." : 1 ' " Pity she never met a clean-handed chap —like Chalmers, for instance," . amended Lester reflectively. "He might have made of iter — a rather fine woman." ; '.- .'..--'*. ' . ' Holli'ngdean's picturesque \ Tittle .village IFas en fete. Bazaars and concerts forming x comparatively rare incidents in its sleepy existence were hot to be lightly treated ; •nd accordingly .high holiday had been proi mmm j : -—

claimed for the Thursday, upon which the Rev John Chalmers proposed to open his bazaar. The Londoners arrived by the eleventhirty from Victoria^ Lester cool and suave., lazy and nonchalant Carstairs, and Glennon with all his scruples regarding the ethical side of Lester's joke clean vanished ; and in their train came also Miss 'Bessie Boulter, whom the music-hall bills euphoniously • termed "' the idol of 'the West End," and whose sprightly dancing and more or less questionable songs were wont to delight the blase heart of London. Her lilac-cofoured skirt, large hat and profusion of jewellery may have been a trifle fast- for poor old sleepy Hollingdean, but none could deny the becoming effect on their owner — certainly the Reverend, John Chalmers was hot one of the number. Her cheeks flushed with excitement, glowed like a peach, and, for once in a while, the "funny" little pain in her left side, which the silly old specialist had warned her against, had ceased its attentions, with corresponding good effect on her health and spirits. "What a sweet, charming, mischievous face she has," thought Chalmers as he held Ther perfectly gloved band in his, whilst Miss Bessie Boulter on her part saw a strong, but gentle mouth, fine aquiline nose i topped by a v pair of trustful grey eyes, that .sudderily cooled her, enthusiasm for the "lark" x which she and her escort had come to play. "It was awfully good of you to come, Miss 'Boulter ; I can never be sufficiently gfratefiil to Lester for enlisting your kindness in 1 our cause !" "Don't thank me, Mr Chalmers," she said confusedly, "it is .we who ought to feel grateful for such a lovely day in the country." . , Chalmers laughed pleasantly— the advent

of Miss Bessie Boulter lent an added buoyanev to the glorious June* day. "You people must be famished," he cried gaily, " so you'd better come to the Rectory at once and have some lunch; my mother is expecting you." ' "By the way, Miss Boulter, he went on, opening the door which led into % the Rectory garden, " I hope you will forgive mv absolute ignorance about people m the musical world. When Lester ;told me you would sing at our concert," he- went pn with a laugh, " I immediately bought all the musical journals in the hope of learning something aibout your favourite songs, b"*- *' • -j «.. " Hello, old chap— put in a new window. said Lester hastily. "New window? Why, of course not. That is the oldest in the house, and " "What beautiful Toses." "You like roses, Miss Boulter? "Like them! What do you think?" cried that young lady, relapsing for a moment into 'the vernacular. " That is— l mean— l like them awfully, she corrected hastily. "Then allow me," and before she could interpose Chalmers had already plucked a beautiful moss rose. .*.--. "Oh, how wicked !"— laughingly, but a c-olour -that rivalled the rose stole into her cheek as she spoke,' an* the perfectly-gloved hand that received it trembled perceptibly. Indoors they niet Mrs Chalmers, and the J ' idol of the West-End," who could be just as well-bred or as ill-bred as she^hose, soon won the, mother's as well as the^son's good graces. < ..... Luncheon over the men lit their cigars— the Reverend John with perceptible elation of spirits— Parstairs and the other men with equally palpable gloom. The unexpected is proverbially trying. Later on they escorted the ladies to the bazaar, now in full swing, and here the young clergyman was compelled by duty to quit Bessie r s side and minister at shrines less fair. , . , " Now," thought Lester, as the remainder of the party entered the labyrinth of - tents and booths, "we must try and wake her up a bit." »-.,., -. But the "idol of the West End*/* seemed strangely perverse— nothing he could do or suggest* appeared to arouse her from decorous lethargy— she remained as obdurately prim and respectable as ever. At length Lester contrived to address a few words of remonstrance, but the result was scarcely gratifying. "What on earth is wrong. with you.' he whispered; "w.e came down for a jolly good 'lark,' and here you are behaving like •», "A lady," she snapped him up suddenly, "strange, isn't it?" "Forgive me,"' hastily. "You know I didn't mean that— l am awfully " "The truth is," burst in Lester, who raither 'prided himself on his perspicuity, "you find the, whole affair beastly slow, but you're too jolly plucky- to show it." "Slow— well, hardly," -md- she smiled enigmatically. -■■.-■■ "Do you know, old boy,' she added after a pause, "I have never enjoyed myself before— till to-day:" "Good Lord?" ,■-•- --'Lester went away slowly. Things were going wrong with a vengeance. Later on he found Carstairs and Glcnnon - haggling over the purchase of a weird smoking arrangement, which a pretty girl persHed in terming a smoking cabinet. He told them, but their remarks were scarcely consoling. "Nonsense," laughed Carstairs,. who . was» enjoying himself hugely. " Bessie's all right. She'll wake ap, never fear, when the concert conies on. And, after all, old chaip, what would you have her do? Stand en her head and shock the rustics?" "It's not what she won't do — it's what she has done," was Lester's enigmatical reply as he walked away. . On the programme Miss Bessie Bottl ter's name figured twice, amd in London she had decided to sing a certain song which had proved an unqualified success at- the Apollo Palace of Vdneties, but was' scarcely compatible With :. parish schoolroom, beforo a

decorous audience of country gentry and unsophisticated rustics. Lester had pointed out that the adventures of a more or less tipsy cockney were rather strong for staid littie Hollingdean, but Bessie, in the first flush of excitement, had insisted on her mos>t famous songs, or nothing at all. And now beheld she was on the platform she had derided, with the parson's rose in her hair, singing — " Annie Laurie." Lester stared at her for a moment speechlessly, then turned to the others, who returned his look of amazed inquiry with interest if not elucidation. At the end Miss Bessie ' Boulter left the stage in a tempest of applause. " By Jove, old chap, she's splendid," cried the Reverend John Chalmers enthusiastically, as be turned to Lester with shining eyes. . > * The latter grinned valiantly. "Magnificent !" he said grimly. "By the way, Carstairs, I think -it's your turn for the rack." The latter mechanically carried his violin case to the platform, and, though almost as dazed as Lester at Bessie's utter change of front, managed to acquit himself creditably. Glennon followed, and after that a- host of local talent, good, bad and indifferent — chiefly indifferent. Then came Bessie's. second turn. It was -the lsiofc item on the programme, and rfie took her stand on the platform amidst utter silence. < Lester and his companions had suffered too many surprises throughout the day, to bo disturbed by anything which Bessie might now choose to do, so they listened with comparative apathy to " The Banks of Loch Lomond." Greater and more cultured audiences than any poor little rustic Ho'llingdean could furnish, have been stirred by this quaint old song, but "never perhaps more deeply than these simple rustics were now, by the expression imparted to them, by the lady whose songs were wont to elevate the divi-

dends if riot the thies of the Londonmusichalls. ■ '■ "Por I n«d my true love will r.ever meet ag«a On* the bonnic, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. ' Tlie words came from her lips %\*!th a pathos that could hardly be -simulated; when Carstairs thought of the song long afterwards, it seemed as if she already looked into the future and sa-jv the end. At its close, the whole place was, as Lester euphoniously described it, " a howling pack of snivelling idiots." i "What the dickens does it mean?" Carstairs glanced across to where the R-ev •*. John Chalmers was congratulating Miss ■'. Boulter, who listened to his words with • eyes unusually bright, and the ' " funny " ; little pain in her side growing — growing. '• She's met the right man," he remarked, , drily, "too iate." ' * *' We understand that the engagement between Miss* Bessie Boulter, the wellknown music-hall artiste, and Lord Randown, of Baganey, has been dissolved by mutual, consent." * This interesting event duly mMc its appearance 1 in an enterprising morning paper, some three months after the Hollingdean' bazaar. , Carstairs and Glennon, -who " abode " together, received it doubtfully, but the entry of Lester and what he had to tell them completely changed' their views. " I ran down- to Hollingdean yesterday — ■ Suriday afternoon," he explained, l puffing hard at his pipe, " thought I'd look up old [ Chalmers. Well, I did. Who the dickens • do you think I met there." "Give it "tip." said Carstairs after aj pause. \ " Bessie— of all the people in the world !" I " Nonsense !" "Fact," said Lester. "You could have bowled me over with a feather. ■ There she was, with the Rev John devouring her with his eyes, and the Rev John's mother beaming maternal benediction." "Good Heavens!" cried Carstairs, "that explains . Bessie's reason for chucking Randown." " Precisely. Of course," pursued Lester, "I accepted everything as if it were the veriest commonplace, but, disconnected remarks gradually supplied details. Bessie, who, by the way, still preserves the role of concert-singer, spends all her Sundays at Hollingdean." "By Jove!" "The result — well, that is just what might have been anticipated." "And Bessie?" Lester refilled his pipe slowly before an- . swering. " I spoke to her in the train coming back' to town," he said, at length, reluctantly, " put the case rather crudely. Marriage, of course, was out of the question. Chalmers was a clergyman, and church and stage, especially the variety order, assimilate badly. . Dwelt on the damage it would entail to the parson's prospects — Ijiat seemed to move her most of all. Told her ho and his mother would cut her ' dead ' if they knew what she really was, which was Jesuitical, but effective. In fact, rubbed in the conventional as hard ays I could— it was beastly doing it to Bessie, bufc she's a game . little woman,- and took it all without a whimper." "And eventually?" interposed Carstairs. " She's not going down f o Hollingdean tiny more," said Lester, laconically. "So that's the* end of the story," quoth Carstairs. " Poor Bessie !" "It's not quite the end," said Lester reflectively, '' the parson remains. If something is not done we'll have him running up to town and upsetting all Bessie's good " resolutions. Now, an interview must bo prevented, at all events." " Well, what do you propose doing?" . " Chalmers is in town to-day — he is coming with me to the N Apollo to-night." "Good Heavens! Does ho know?" "Not likely! He thinks we're going to an ordinary concert." " But Bessie — it will be beastly rough on her if she .pcs hiir: — on the parson also." "Powerful diseases require drastic remedies," quoth Lester in extenuation. At eight- o'clock' precisely the* Rev John Chalmers, Lester and Carstairs, who had reluctantly agreed to patronise the supposed " conceit." found themselves in the vestibule of the Apollo Theatre of Varieties.' Lester had timed their arrival to coincide with the "turn " immediately preceding that of Mi?s Bessie Boulter, and this being instrumental, the Rev John Chalmers was not immediately aware of the nature of the entertainment. , Soon, however, the .superabundance of animal spirits everywhere manifest, so strangely in contrast to the decorous nature of the concerts to which he had been ac- j customed, struck him as being peculiar. | Added to this, the fumes of tobacco smoke ! and clinking of glasses soon convinced the Rev John Chalmers that he had, in his own scriptural metaphor, " fallen among rhieve-s," but not being a prig he resolved to enter into the joke. Carstairs furtively watched Chalmers's face as Bessie came before the footlights and bowed her appreciation of the plaudits.^ j In a moment it had gone quite white and grey ' in the flaring electric light, and his eyes were wide open — with the whites j showing clearly all round the pupils. I " Rotten thing for me to have done," j thought Lester remorsefully, as he watched j the stony expression on his face. It wasn't quite a nice son<j, and at the end of the third verse Bessie saw a stony, set face, with the whites of the eyes showing right , round the pupils. That settled it. With | a queer little choking cry she staggered j backward, and clasped her hand to her left j side, where great iron fingers were twist- ; ing — twisting. 1 Chalmers rose as the manager came before j the footlights and explained that Miss j Boulter's sudden indisposition would pre- j vent her appearing any more that night. | " Let us go," he said to Lester quite de- ! liberately. '■ The latter and Carstairs, sharing the feel-in"-s of a dozen malefactors between them, ] rose and followed him. j Out-side he shook hands with them quiet- • : ly, but with an air of dismissal. j Jde turned to Lester for a moment. ; "Ifc xas awfully good of you, old chap," | he said gently. "I understand your mo- ] tive, but — I am not that* sort of man." For a moment they stood watching him, — ______ ____— ——» i-— — — — —^i!— -^ i