“What’s in a Name?”

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XL, Issue 10, 7 March 1908, Page 51

“What’s in a Name?”

Molly was turning over the contents of a trinket box. Meanwhile she indulged in reminiscences concerning certain rings of the forget-me-not description, likewise brooches and lockets with “Mizpah” or “A.E.1,” engraved upon them. I picked up a curiously shaped cross attached to a length of scarlet ribbon. “What is this?” I queried. Mr cousin took it from me. “That? Oh! that is my Jacobite badge.” “Jacobite?” I echoed. “What! are you a Jacobite? I had no idea of it. Come now, confess you don’t understand anything about the matter?” Molly was distinctly offended. She drew her tiny figure up to its full height of five feet nothing. “As it happens, I know a great deal about the subject,” she returned. “Moreover, my League said I was one of the most useful adherents they had ever had.” 1 apologised, and she duly forgave me. “But tell me more,” I begged. “We weren't only Jacobites,” explained Molly, somewhat flattered by my eagerness; “some of us were Carlists or Bourbonists or Buddhists—no, I forgot that’s a religion—and there were others who were Nihilists, and I think some Anarchists as well, but I’m. not quite sure about them.” I preserved my gravity. “And in what way were your services so valuable?” “Oh! I converted people, won them over to the cause, you know. “Once ” —speaking with evident pride—“l took no less than nineteen converts with me to one of our meetings.” “Nineteen! That was splendid! How did you manage it? Did you have to explain the tenets . of , your faith to them?” She looked puzzled. “I don’t exactly know what you mean. I simply said. ‘Are you a Jacobite? I wish you were. It’s. great fun. I’m one.’ And thenwell then, of course, they joined. . They were mostly men,” she added, by way of an afterthought. “As a rule the women weren’t particularly interested.” I could believe it. “And what were the political opinions of your mixed party?” “Oh! those were very simple. We only wanted to depose all the present kings and queens,, and put the rightful heirs on their thrones.” “Very simple indeed. May I ask who should by right reign over us?” “Queen Mary of Bavaria,” was the prompt reply, uttered so glibly that I was convinced it was the only thing she had gathered of her League’s principles. She evaded all my further- queries as to details and proofs. “Tell me something of your meetings,” I asked. “Oh! they were ripping fun. We used to meet once a month at the house of somebody who was the last of the—the—« well, I forget the name, but some family well known in history; at least, he wasn’t exactly the last of them himself, but a cousin or some sort of relation. You know what I mean, don’t you!” “At those assemblies,” continued my cousin, “everybody was in frightful earnest. It was most awfully thrilling to see the converts being sworn in, and clapped on the back with a sword. That made knights or companions of tha something or other of them. And then they were —invested I think it was called —with the ribbon and cross of the League.” “It sounds exciting.” “It really w?.s. Sometimes most intert esting people came to us. Occasionally we had to pretend not to know who the * were; though, of course, we all did. Once I remember there was a real live queen present. That is to say, she would have been a queen if she had been fairly treated.” “Who was she?” “It was a foreign name, and I never could pronounce it; but I know she had something to do with the Catholic Church, for there was a man—a pope, I believe—dressed up in a funny cap, and wearing a robe with a big cross embroidered on the back, and two of the sweet« est little white-surpliced acolptes you can imagine swinging incense in front of her. And the queen sat on a great chair all over carving and gilding. And she wore a long lace veil and a crown, and just behind her was a sort of shield with crossed swords on it, supposed to be symbolical of something belonging to her rightful country.” “What an eye for detail you must

have had!” I remarked; but she was not listening. “All around,” she went on, “were knights and people, and they formed a long lane right the length of the room, through-which those who were presented to her had to pass until they came in front of the throne.” “And what happened then?” “ Nothing much. We only curtsied or bowed, and kissed her hand. ... I was one of the very first to be presented. And she said such nice things about the help I had been. I did enjoy it. It was, of course, all very dignified; but it didn’t make you nervous, like it does at Buckingham Palace. “The queen kept me talking quite a long time, and she was so jolly and friendly. But presently I eaught a glimpse of some one I most particularly wanted to speak to, and I didn’t quite know what the etiquette of the thing was—whether the queen had to be treated like real royalty, and 1 ought to wait until 'she dismissed me, or if it would be wrong if I made some excuse and slipped away myself.” “It was rather an awkward dilemma for you. How did you get out of it?” “Well, as I was wondering what to do, I saw that he “He? Who?” “The man I wanted to speak to, stupid, was about to leave, thinking I wasn’t there, for he couldn’t see me through the crowd. And we’d quarrelled, you see, and he had come to make it up. So I just bent down and whispered the facts of the case to the queen. She didn’t mind a scrap, and she was as sweet as could be and dismissed me at once, and even let me off going backwards out of her presence, because I told her I had on my first long train, and was afraid of tearing it. Wasn’t she a brick?” “She was indeed. Did you make it up with your friend?” “Yes. Though after all it wasn’t worth while, for we quarrelled again next day. He went to Canada afterwards, and I’ve never seen hini since.” “By th? way,” I asked, the question suddenly occurring to me, “how came you to be a Jacobite in the first instance ?” Molly laughed. “I think it was on account bf the ribbon and cyoss,” she confessed. “They were so pretty, and you couldn’t have them unless you became* an adherent to the cause-” “Truly an excellent and feminine reason.” “You can always tell a Jacobite,” continued my cousin, after an interval spent in decorating the kitten with the badge of her order (“doesn’t Fluffy look sweet?”), “because they always puttheir stamps upside down on envelopes by way of showing respect and loyalty to the people they consider their legitimate sovereigns.” “But I haven’t observed that you follow this practice,” I objected. “Oh! I? I’m not a Jacobite any longer,” she replied, rising and yawning frankly. “ You see, when I joined, it was at the beginning of my very first season.” “What difference did that make?” “ All the difference in the world. Old Lady Grantley offered to present me, and my frock was just too heavenly for words.” “Well?” “Well, I asked a man—a barrister—nnd he said I was a conspirator and guilty of high treason, and wouldn’t be received at Court if it were known that I was a member of the League. And, as 1 told you, thatfrock was perfectly adorable. So, of course, I chucked Jacohitism, and became a—a —what do you call it, when you reverse the thing? a Conservative or a Liberal? ” “A turncoat,” said I grimly. “ I see; well, now I’m that,” she replied in all good faith. “Good heavens!”— Icoknig at the clock—“is that really the time? Quarter to eight, and I’m not dressed.” She tripped away, leaving me to meditate on the mental mobility of women until the bell rang for dinner. —By Mrs Harold Gorst in “Pall Mall.”