(COPYRIGHT STORY.) A. Sensational Supper Party

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIV, Issue 18, 6 May 1905, Page 52

(COPYRIGHT STORY.) A. Sensational Supper Party

By

Gertrude Warden

Author of ** The Sentimental Sex,” Etc.

IT all took place five years ago, but I shall never forget that evening, of eight, of whom two were We were just an informal party host ami hostess. Newton -Wy agate was the host, a tall, silent, dignified pale man. who wore eyeglasses and a pointed beard, and who always rather frightened me, although I tried not to show it. lie is well known in London for writing articles on scientific subjects which nobody ever reads, and |K‘ople have never got over his marrying my cousin. “Baby” Brydone, ten “Baby” is lovely and extravagant and witty and silly; she is always in boisterously high spirits, and can’t spell a bit. But she and Xewton are quite happy together. although she sometimes makes a pandemonium of their flat in town with her Bohemian receptions and supper parties. Xewton has a “den” in the country where he can write in peace, but wdiat he writes about 1 don’t know in the lease and I never dare to ask. That particular, never-to-be-forgotten, evening we were not so Bohemian as usual. 1 live in the country, but I was staying with the Wvngates in town, and I remember 1 was in a state of intense excitement that day because I had made up my mind that a man I liked immensely was going to ask me to marry him. ' The man was Ralph Bridgenorth, a great friend of Xewton Wyngate, and a journalist, although he looked like a soldier.

Such a splendid man, big and broad and grey eved and elear-skinned, a man wdio looked you straight in the face and thought a little before he spoke. He had heaps of men friends, but women didn’t care much for him. They called him “heavy” because he had no conversational slip-slop, and because he respected women too much to chaff them or flatter them. He was only 38 then, but his curly hair was grey, and he looked as if he had lived and suffered a lot. I took such a fancy to him as soon as we met that “Baby” thought fit to warn me against him. “Don’t lose your heart to Ralph whatever you do,” she said. "He hasn't got sixpence, and he doesn’t mean to marry. He used to be rich once, but he threw away all his money on some horrid little married woman, and now he has to work for his living.” I did not like Ralph Bridgenorth any the less for this story. Baby told stories about everybody, and half of them she invented. There was a little bit of truth at the back of this tale, however, as I found out from Ralph himself.

I had met him six times, and I had made him talk. About himself, too, and th;lt was a dillieult matter. He knew my county, and the uncle and aunt with whom I lived. lie loved the country, and horses, and dogs, and riding to hounds as much as I did; but he talked ns though life were over for him, and when 1 took him to task about that he said he hail “been through a good bit.” and was “old enough to be my father.” That was nonsense, for I was 22 that year, ami I told him so. The next time we met was in Kensington Cardens by accident ; and sitting under the trees in the “Flower Walk," I got nearly the whole of his life out of him. bit by bit, and simply loved him for it. ’The "romance” was a half-cousin; rather like me she was, he said—but then men never seem to know what women are like. She had “yellow brown hair." anyhow, and "great blue eyes.” and a soft voice; but between the lines of his story I made up my mind that she was an artful little cat. She turned his head when they played about country lanes as children. Of course they were to marry each other, but at seventeen sin- married a great brute of a man, who treated her dreadfully and half murdered her. Them the trouble began. She ran away with her child and begged Ralph to take care of her. and he behaved just in the beautiful, chivalrous wav one would have expected from him. as if she had been his own sister. He provided her with a home, and got half-

murdered by her dreadful husband, who was finally locked up in a lunatic asylum. where he died. Of course one would have said Ralph would have married the widow; but after spending nearly all his money (for she must have been awfully extravagant) she died too in a decline, and Ralph thought of her as a saint. “And that is the true story of the only woman 1 ever loved —until three weeks ago,” he said to me. It was three weeks since he met me; but 1 saw- he didn’t feel inclined to talk any more, so I made a move for home. He was to come in to supper after my cousin Baby Wyngate’s “at home” the next evening. “And 1 shall have something to say to you then,” he said as he took leave of me before the door of the flats, and squeezed my hand so tightly that my rings hurt my fingers.

1 had made up my mind to take him. I did not care for and I did not believe any story against him; and as to his having no money, as Baby said, I had seven hundred a year, and surely that would be enough for us both. So you see I was in a great state of excitement all through the day which ended in that dreadful supper-party. Every half-hour I looked at the clock and longed for the people to go and eight o’clock to come, for eight o’clock meant Ralph! They had all left at last, to the very last old lady who hung about in the hope that if she wouldn’t go she might slip in to supper unobserved. There were six of us there, with Baby and Newton, by five minutes to eight, and we were waiting for Ralph and a friend of his he had asked permission to bring. “A chance for you, Ethel,” Baby had said to me. “A young baronet. Sir Evelyn Welbye. who has just unexpectedly come into the title and twelve thousand a year. He’s about your age, and I’m told he’s the handsomest man in London. Ralph’s awfully taken with him and won’t go anywhere without him.” I suppose it was my bad taste, but I did not admire Sir Evelyn M cibye a bit. He was too much like an abnormally tall girl dressed upas a man, with his great blue eyes and long curled eyelashes, ami bis yellow hair. His manners were gentle and nice enough, but he seemed shy and had nothing much to say for himself, which didn't matter a bit. for he sat on Baby’s right hand at supper and Baby talked for two.

The way in which the guests sat at that table meant a very great deal to me I hen and afterwards, so I must describe it. The table was oblong; only one person could sit at each end, and Xewton faced Baby as usual. On Baby’s left was Monsieur de Gallieas, a little, lively, shrivelled-up man, who was supposed to be an Italian Count, but who was dreadfully poor and gave lessons and did translations. Next to him was Mrs Clewson. who was going on somewhere else and was in full war-paint. It is difficult to describe Mrs Clewson to people who have never seen her; she always reminded me of a battered old cheap doll at a French fair. Nothing about her ever mat clu’d. She w ore a dress of rose-pink satin that night, bought at a sale (she bought everything at sales), with chiffon sleeves of quite another- colour and no end of spangles. She was always trying new hair-dyes and I remember that Iter hair that evening was bright red. .Towels were stuck all over her. In her hair she wore a “fender” of sapphires ami diamonds, round her neck were strings and strings of pearls of

all sizes, shapes, and colours, every dirty little finger (and her fingers were always dirty) was covered with rings, and all down the front of her long, thin frame there mean / red a massive gold necklace to which she had hung aquantity of “charms” in gold and jewels. The party being composed of four ladies and four gentlemen, two ladies and two gentlemen had to sit together, so on the left of Mrs Clewson the Hon. Mrs Fothergill Manning sat, at Newton Wyngate’s right. I know I have prejudices, but I could not bear Mrs Fothergill Manning. She was what he called a “showy” woman. She hail a hooked nose and a very small waist, a patronising wanner and a shrill laugh. Not a hair of her head was unfrizzed or out of place, and she took hardly any notice of the women, but told stories that I am sure were risky to her host all through supper, while she ogled Ralph and the young baronet across the table with her hard blue eyes. To the left of Newton I was seated, and on the other side of me was Ralph Bridgenorth, looking handsomer than I had ever seen him yet, and so frank and manly and good that I never should have suspected—but I a'.a going ahead of my story. On Baby's right, as I have said, Sir Evelyn Welbye was seated with Ralph on his other side. I heard Ralph ask Baby that “the boy,” as he called him, might be put near him. “Heos not used to going out and he’s shy,” Ralph explained. “He won’t be shv with me,” said Baby. Me all got on famously, being beautifully paired. Ralph contrived to ask me in the noise everyone was making what I thought of the story he had told me in Kensington Gardens. “The more I think of it, the more I like the hero,” 1 said. “Would you advise the hero to marry!’’ he asked.

“If he can find a woman who under* ata nils him,” I replied.

“He thinks he- has,” he said, looking straight at me.

This was delightful, and I eould have gone on talking like that half the evening; but we were getting near the dreadful thing which made that supper-party memorable.

The servants had left the room. Everyone was talking and laughing when Mrs Fothergill Manning suddenly took it into her head to remark on the “charms” with which Mrs Clewson had loaded her gold chain. “There’s the oddest sort of pierced casket among them,” she cried in her high voice. “I’m dying to know what it’s got inside.” “You’d never guess,” said Mrs Clewson, who loved to have her ornaments talked about. “It’s the most valuable single stone I possess: a big diamond in a perfect heart shape. It’s the only one in England. They say it brings one luck to have a stone like that, and I dare not have it set lest it should lie injured. So 1 have bought this little antique case to keep it in.

On this, everyone clamoured to see the stone and Mrs Clewson unfastened the casket and very good-naturedly sent it round the table. It certainly was a beautiful diamond and of a most uncommon shtipe. Jewels do not particularly attract me, but I admired it as the others did, and we all amused ourselves in fastening and unfastening the spring of the ease and taking the diamond in and out. Everyone was talking at once telling stories about celebrated and odd-shaped jewels. Mrs Clewson’s casket was a long time at our end of the table, hut it was finally handed back to her, and not until fully ten minutes later did she suddenly break into a little hysterical laugh, and stop the conversation by rapping sharply on the table with her fan. “Of course I know it is a joke.” she said in a high nervous voice. “But. please, will the person who is keeping my diamond hand it back to me now, as I inn going almost immediately?” Dead silence followed.

We all looked at each other, and 1 noticed that. Ralph had grown ghastly pale. I thought nothing of it at the moment,

for we all seemed uncomfortable. Meanwhile Mrs Clewson had opened the little gold casket to show Newton that it was empty. “Mrs Clewson is right,” ho said, looking extremely annoyed. “Will the person who is keeping back the diamond for fun please hand it back to her at once?” Nobody moved. “It’s really too odd!” Mrs Manning said with a little shiver. “Probably it’s on the floor.” “Shall we ring for the servants and have the room searched?” suggested Baby. Nobody else spoke or moved. Suddenly Newton sprang from his chair, looking very white and angry and determined. Crossing the room, he stood by the door, with his hand immediately over the button which controlled all the electrie lights in the room. There is a big silver dish for sweets in the middle of the table,” he said. “1 am going to turn out the electric lights and count twenty aloud very slowly. When I have finished I shall turn on the lights again. And if by that time Mrs Clewson’s heart-shaped diamond is not in the silver sweet dish, I shall be compelled to lock the doors, send for a detective, and have everybody searched. Now!” He switched off the light and began to count aloud very slowly. I don’t know how everybody else felt, but 1 know I was trembling from head to font with excitement and nervousness. At first there was not a sound in the darkness, but Newton’s loud, monotonous counting. Not until he had reached the number fifteen did I notice any movement at the table. But on that number there was, alas, no mistake possible. I felt the right arm of my neighbour Ralph Bridgenorth suddenly move forward; then came a tiny click as the jewel was dropped into the silver dish. To my utter astonishment, to my shame and despair, I realized in those instants of darkness that the man I had grown to love, the man I would have married, was nothing more than a common thief!

Newton ceased, the lights flashed out, the diamond sparkled in the silver dish. 'But Ralph turned towads me as Mrs Clewson was taking back her jewel and he read in mv face what 1 knew.

Krom being pale he grew crimson. Never had I seen any one look more guilty. The next moment he had risen and was taking leave of my cousin and her husband very coldlyTowards me his manner was colder still, but I was too miserable to care. His departure and that of his friend was the signal for the break-up of the little party.

Not one word did I say to the Wyngates as they discussed the unpleasant incident. Both of them suspected Mrs Fothergill Manning and 1 could not undeceive them. But I left London next day and took the sorest of hearts back to my country home. Did it end there? you will ask.

No, thank Heaven, it did not! But I was doomed to wait two whole years before I learned the truth. It came to me in the most singular fashion.

T had been avoiding Loudon, getting my aunt and uncle to take me abroad. But 1 had to come up to town at last on the maiiiage of an old schoolfellow of mine, my dearest friend. And almost the first person I recognised at the reception after the wedding was Ralph Bridgenorth. Until I saw him I had no idea how much I liked him still. I thought he looked old and worn and worried, but his face was as frank and trustworthy as it had always seemed to me. He grew very pale when our eyes met, and 1 felt myself growing crimson. But he only bowed and did not attempt to speak to me. Sir Evelyn Welbye was with him. I disliked the young baronet's appearance more than ever and thought his big blue eyes looked downright silly. I was angry with myself for longing so ardently to go up and speak to Ralph, and I made up my mind to leave as early as possible.

The bride’s two sisters were conducting a large party of visitors round the little drawing-room in which the presents were laid out. I was looking at them without pinch interest (for my thoughts were all with Ralph) when a lady just in front of me uttered an odd little scream. “My bracelet!” she cried. “My lost bracelet that my husband gave me! I should know it anywhere!” Everyone crowded round. She was a Everyone crowded round. She was a middle aged woman, a widow, whom 1 knew slightly. She was very rich and known for her beautiful jewels; and this case before which she stopped contained one of the handsomest of the bride’s presents, a bracelet in platinum and diamonds in the shape of a snake, with big ruby eyes. In a minute the bride’s sisters were assuring her that it could not possibly be her bracelet; but the widow remained obstinate on the point. “I know it by the setting.” she asserted. “It slipped off my arm at the hunt ball at Leicester, just a year and a half ago. I was chaperoning a girl there. Shall I prove to you it is my bracelet?” The bride's sisters, who were naturally extremely uncomfortable, could not prevent her from taking the bracelet from its case. “H it be mine, as I can swear it is,” said the widow, “there is a spring in the serpent’s head, and under a cluster of diamonds there is a tiny portrait of my boy Harry as a baby of two.” “There is no spring or portrait in this bracelet,” the bride’s eldest sister was declaring when, at the widow lady's touch, the cluster of diamonds Hew open and the portrait of a baby boy was exposed to view. In the little commotion which ensued the bride's mother joined the group around the bracelet, and seemed equally astonished and annoyed when the affair was explained to her. “It must be some mistake,” she said. “The name of the sender is by the present. It is from a very wealthy friend of ours. Sir Evelyn Welbye.” “Sir Evelyn Welbye was at the hunt ball at which I lost my bracelet!” cried the widow. “He danced several times with the girl I chaperoned. He is here to-dav. Let him be sent for to explain this!”

Suddenly above the circle of excited women's faces. I perceived Ralph Bridgenorth approaching the bride's mother, and before anyone had time to say more, he drew her aside and began talking to her in low earnest tones. The end of it all was that within the next few days the widow lady had her bracelet back. There had been a “mistake.” it was said, and the affair was hushed up as much as possible. But a light had dawned upon me. Before the guests had left that afternoon 1 went boldly up to Ralph Bridgenorth.

“Sir Evelyn Welbye had stolen the widow lady's bracelet.” I said. “Aml it was Sir Evelyn Welbye who took Nirs Clewson's diamond at my cousin Mrs Wyngate’s house two years ago. You got it from him and placed it in the silver dish.”

“That is true," he said gravely. “For the sake of his mother, who put him in my charge on her death. 1 have done my utmost for him. But he is growing beyond me now. His father was mad, and poor Evelyn is a kleptomaniac.” “And you knew.’’ I whispered, “that your action might be misunderstood as it was—and yet you only cared to shield him!*’ “He is my cousin's orphan son. Could I spoil the beginning of his career by letting people know that some of his father's madness was in him? What people think of me does not matter.” “But it docs!” I panted out. “Pray forgive me!” It was a dreadful thing to do in a drawing-room, but the tears rushed to my eyes; I actually cried. Ralph took both my hands in his and asked me where I was staying in London. I almost sobbed out the address and he came to see me the next day. Just five minutes’ talk explained everything, and those horrid two years were forgotten. And that is the true tale of how I nearly lost and finally won the only man in the world for me—the man I have loved and appreciated aright ever since that afternoon.