WITHOUT THE WEDDING GARMENT.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 25, 20 June 1891, Page 80

WITHOUT THE WEDDING GARMENT.

N one ot Lady George Athol’s ‘ first Thursdays ' her rooms were filling to overflow. Barn street was blocked with carriages. Lady George stood on the big square landing at the top of the stairs, and gave her hand so often that after a time it seemed no longer herown The people thronged up and up. The current appeared unending, and she felt almost as if the circle must be complete, and the string of guests must be revolving, as in a child’s toy the figures that are gummed on to a tape and go up to the mill moves in endless succession up and up and up. Her tongue was tired, too and; so was her smile, but each was kept in active work. ‘ How do you do ?’ * How do you do?’ ‘How do you do?’ ‘Your son not with you ? No? I am sorry.’ ‘ What lovely flowers !’ ‘ How do you do ?’ * How do you do ?’ ‘ No, almost cold.’ ‘ How do you do? * Yes, stifling.’ ‘ Ah, Mrs Keith—l scarcely thought you would get away'. Dull—was it ? What, none of the right people ? Didn’t suppose for an instant there would be.’ ‘ Let me stana here tor one moment. I want so much to know who someone is who came in just before us. A beautiful woman. Quite too lovely.’ ‘.Mrs Venables probably. Not Mrs Venables? Eair? Lady Eleet? No? Miss Adair? No? Then I can’t tell you till I see her.’ ‘ She is coming up now. There, with the fair hair. No in front of the Brabazons.’ Lady George had the mischance to drop her bouquet, and in the momentary confusion the name was lost. The lady who advanced behind the unheard name was fair to whiteness almost. Her hail- was of a peculiar shade of yellow likelpale sulphur. Her eyes were of the lightest grey. Lady George gave her hand and said ‘ How do you do?’ The Brabazons occupied her with some elaborate explanation about why they had been unable to dine in Barn street, and in the meantime the lady, with a murmured word, had passed on. Lady George looked after her. She was bowing to someone. She was bowing again—and now again. Apparently she had many friends in the room. Mr Brabazon was talking to Mrs Keith, who as soon as he had moved away turned to her hostess. ‘ She m-handsome. 1 hope your flowers were not spoilt. I didn’t catch the name.’ The lady was lost in the smart crow'd. ‘ Neither did I,’ said Lady George, blankly; ‘ and I don’t know her from Adam. She must be some friend of the girls’. Joan or Maud must have sent her a caid —my memory is so bad. I can’t leave this ; if you come across either of my daughters, will you send her to me, Mrs Keith ? Oh, here is my husband. George—George —go into the room and tell me who the striking-looking woman with the yellow hair is.’ ‘ There are dozens of them. Which ?' ‘ I’ll show you,’ said Mrs Keith. She was interested. The two moved away, but like the raven from the ark they did not return. Lady George, after ten minutes or so, felt that she had done her duty, and she,left the top of the stairs. She forgot the unknown lady, and it was half an hour before she came across one of her daughters. ‘Maud, I bad something to ask you and I forget what. Oh, yes. Who is—l can’t see her now— yes, tlieie she is—that woman with the yellow hair standing by the mantelpiece. ’ ‘ln white?—l don’t know.’ ‘ But neither do I. I thought you would be able to tell me. Find Joan and send her to me.’ It was twenty minutes before Lady George’s second daughter appeared before her. By that time the lady had moved her place. ‘ I know the one you mean,’ said Joan, ‘ but I don’t know who she is. She has very curious hair and she is in white.’ ‘ Yes ’ ‘ Well, I don’t know.’ Mis Keith came up. ‘ Lord George doesn’t know,’ she said. ‘ I can easily find out,’ said Joan. * She has been talking to Charlie Vincent for the last ten minutes ; I’ll ask him.' She moved away as she spoke. Young Vincent was leaning against a pillar and laughing heartily. He was the butt for the moment of the chaff of two of his friends. Joan heard a few of their remarks. ‘ He didn't mind, don’t vou know—awfully pretty woman like that. Neither would you.’ ‘ Said she met him at Nice, and dear old Charlie’s never been out of the country in his life.’ Vincent caught Miss Athol’s eye. ‘ You are going to let me take you down to supper ?’ he said to her. • I will see later on,’ said Joan. ‘Just now I want you to tell me something. What is the name of the lady you were talking to a few minutes ago ?’ He began to laugh. ‘At what?’ said Joan. ‘ Well, the whole thing. Those two chaps have been chaffing me like anything as it is. You mean the handsome woman with the fair hair?’ ‘ Yes. ’ ‘ I was standing near her when she turned round and put out her hand. She said, “Mr Vincent, isn’t it?” And I said yes, and then she said she hadn’t seen me for ever so long, and I did not like to pretend that I did not know her. so I said that it «■«.•>• rather a long time ; and then we talked for a bit.’ ‘ And you don’t know who she is?’ ‘ Never saw her before in my life. Who is she?’ • Where did she think she had met you ?’ said Joan, without answering his question. • Well, you see, that didn’t come out till quite the end. She said it must be two yeais since the days at Nice, and by that time I was so steeped in deception and I had allowed my reminiscences of our foimer acquaintance to go such lengths in order to coincide with hers, that I had not the face to tell her that I had never been at Nice in my life. She mistook me for someone else ; I knew that after the first half dozen words ; but you see I had woven such a tangled

web that I couldn’t get out of it, even if I had wanted to, and those two chaps say I didn't.’ Joan laughed. ‘She is very handsome,’ she said, ‘but I am not quite sure that she is good style.’ ‘ And you won’t come down to supper ?’ ‘ Not now.’ ‘ I would ask her if I knew her name. ’ said Vincent. ‘ I must get Lady George to tell me when I see her.’ ‘You won’t do that,’ said Joan, and she left him with a smile that he failed to interpret. Miss Athol went back to her mother. On the way she passed the fair unkown talking to Mr Brabazon. ‘I watched that,’Mrs Keith was saying; ‘ she dropped her fan. Well, Joan, what had Mr Vincent to tell you ! ‘ Nothing,’ said Miss Athol. ‘ The mystery remains a mystery. She mistook him for someone else. ’ ‘She bowed to Lady Beckenham, I think. Here is Lady Beckenham. I will ask her.’ ‘ Not to me,’ said Lady Beckenham. Lady George explained the situation. ‘ If I were in your case I should go to her myself,’ said Lady Beckenham. ‘ I must, I think,’ said Lady George, and she sought her unknown guest. ‘ You will pardon me,’ she said ; ‘ but I did not hear your name, and—my memory is bad. Ido not recall your face.’ ‘ I am Mrs Darbishire,’ said the lady. ‘ I was so sorry not to return your call on Monday. It was good of you to come and see me so soon.’ ‘ Darbishire !—Call !’ Lady George looked at her vacantly. The lady caught something of her hostess’s expression. ‘ Can there be any mistake ?’ she said. ‘ I don’t know you of course, because I did not see you when you called. You heard from my dear frisnds the Van Lindens, of New York, and you came to see me and asked me to your party ?’ Lady George looked more vacant. ‘ You are Mrs Sefton, surely,’ said the lady. ‘ There is some mistake,’ said Lady George. ‘I am Lady George Athol.’ Mrs Darbishire started to her feet. ‘ How can I sufficiently apologise !’ she said. ‘lam a stranger in London, and I only arrived from New York last week. I had an introduction to Mrs Sefton. Ido not know her personally, so I did not discover my mistake. I came in a hansom, and I suppose the driver mistook my directions.’ Lady George smiled graciously. The mistake is easily explained if Mrs —Mrs Sefton lives in Barn Square.’ ‘ That is it, I think,’ said Mrs Darbishire. ‘ And this is Barn-street.’ ‘ I am so distressed this should have happened,’ said Mrs Darbishire. ‘ Not at all,’ said Lady George. ‘ You found some friend’s here, I hope, and it has given us the pleasure of your company.’ The lady, with reiterated apologies, bowed and took her departure. A man who passed her on the stairs looked at her fixedly and hurried up to his hostess. ‘ Will yon tell me that lady’s name ?’ he said. ‘ Five minutes ago I might have asked you, Colonel Weston. She is a Mrs Darbishire, I believe. Her cabman mistook Barn-street for Barn Square.’ ‘You know nothing about her?’ ‘ Nothing.’ ‘ Then excuse me.’ Colonel Weston hurried down to the hall. Mrs Darbishire was coming from the cloak-room. ‘ Mdlle. Lestocq will permit me to see her to her hotel?’ he said quietly. The lady started, then smiled and bowed. ‘ Monsieur est bien animable, she said. He followed her to the hansom and got in. He spoke up through the trap. ‘ Drive slowly to the end of the street, and I will direct you.’ He turned then to his companion. ‘ We meet again. Mademoiselle.’ ‘ Oui, Monsieur.’ ‘ Mademoiselle has, perhaps, few friends in London.’ ‘ Not many, Monsieur.’ ‘ Mademoiselle, however, starts well under such a wingas that of Lady George Athol.’ ‘ Without doubt. Monsieur.’ * A more softly feathered wing than that of the law', Mademoiselle. You should know.’ ‘ Monsieur is facetious.’ ‘ I should like to see w’hat you have in your pocket. Mademoiselle.’ ‘My handkerchief. Monsieur." ‘ What else ?’ ‘A meagie purse.’ ‘ What else ?’ ‘ That is all.’ ‘ That figure clad in dark blue is a policeman. What else, Mademoiselle?’ ‘ Only this,’ said Mrs Darbishire. She handed him a small diamond brooch as she spoke. ‘ Only that.' ‘ That is all, Monsieur. I have had no luck.’ ‘ You are sure that is all. A word to my friend in blue- ’ ‘ Save yourself the trouble, Monsieur. That is all.’ ‘ Good-night, Mademoiselle. Good-night for the old sake’s sake.’ ‘Good-night,’ said Mrs Darbishire. Colonel Weston called another cab and drove back to Barn-street. ‘ A chance likeness, perhaps, to someone I met in Paris,’ he said to Lady < leorge. ‘ One is easily mistaken. I have just picked this up,’ he added, putting the brooch into her hand ; ‘do you know whose it is?’ Someone is sure to claim it,’ said Lady George. A few day’s later it chanced that Lady < leorge Athol and Mrs Sefton met. ‘ I suppose you heard from your friend Mrs Darbishire of her coming to my crush in mistake for yours,’ said Lady (leorge. ’ ‘ Mrs Darbishire I’ said Mrs Sefton ; ‘ but she came to me the night before last for you. Her cabman mistook ’ Lady George opened her eyes. ‘ When did that happen ?’ ‘On Wednesday. I have good reason to remember the day, for I lost an emerald bracelet.'