A SUMMER EPISODE

New Zealand Tablet, 15 December 1910, Page 2045

A SUMMER EPISODE

On a secluded portion of the piazza of a seashore hotel sat two ladies one day in early summer. They were elegantly dressed elegantly for that time of day, which was nine in the morning. One leaned back in a large rocking-chair, fanning herself vigorously; the other was making a pretence of embroidery, though the wild rose begun several days before had not progressed beyond the second petal. It was still early in the season, the hotel just beginning to receive its complement of guests. Said the elder of the two to her companion, whose acquaintance she had made that morning: ' 1 am afraid I shall find it very dull here, accustomed as I. am to a great deal of society. Don't you feel the same?' ' I shall not mind it, as we expect to go in a few days,' replied the other. ' This house has been the subject of litigation for many years. My husband thinks, however, that it can be wound «P satisfactorily to all parties this tall He has been going about among' the farmers and old residents, taking depositions, since Sunday.' The other stiffened perceptibly. 'ls your husband a—a—stenographer?' Her vis a vis smiled serenely. 'No; he is Judge Wilcox,' she replied. '.Judge Wilcox! Oh, I beg your pardon! But when you said ' i i 'lt is of no importance, I assure you,' observed the lady of the embroidery, coldly; using her needle for a toothpick, and staring into vacancy with a far-away look in her eyes. Her companion wielded the fan more slowly: she felt thoroughly uncomfortable. The Wilcoxes were people well recognised as prominent members of a certain class of society, on the edge of which the other lady was still hovering, with a strong hope of soon passing the magic circle. What if by her tactless remark she had lost a precious opportunity! The Judge's wife perceived her embarrassment, and enjoyed it as only they can who delight in returning the soul-thrusts they themselves are accustomed to receive. But the other was not so easily daunted. ' Yes,' she said thoughtfully. ' I ought to have known. J have so often heard my husband mention Judge Wilcox U l x, J ll /?.* tern l s - 1 remember last year, at the time of the fall or that large apartment building in Clarendon 1 lace, Mr. Sparks thought it a fine thing of the Judge to refuse to conduct the defence. No one is better calculated than he—my husband—to distinguish between good and had work. And the masonry of that house was shockingly bad. & J ~ ' pb>, • y Ur husband is a brick-mason, Mrs. Sparks?' said Mrs. Wilcox sweetly, in the tone of one upon whom a light had suddenly dawned—who was feeling that she had had her innings and could afford to be gracious. ni ' 4 brick-mason!' exclaimed the other lady. 'Not at all! He is the Mr. Sparks of Sparks and Fowel ' It was her turn to bridle, and bridle she did. The fan lay idle on her capacious lap, and she shook her head as though a bee had lighted beneath the puffs and curls that crowned it. . ' And now I should beg your pardon, Mrs. Sparks!' was the amiable rejoinder from the lips of Mrs. Wilcox -'And 1 am sure I do it with all my heart. The Judge has the highest opinion of Sparks and Fowel. I once heard him call them incorruptible.' 'Thank you!' murmured Mrs. Sparks, once more restored to equanimity. . For a moment there was silence, Mrs. Wilcox remembering that her husband had often said he would like to have the architect's legal business, and Mrs. Sparks hoping she might be able to bring the two men together for their mutual benefit. With a spontaneous movement as thouen to manifest the incipient friendliness that was beginning to exist between them, the two ladies edged nearer each My husband is here (I don't mind telling you) on fcho business of the new Catholic church,' said the architect's wife. a t lon have • heard, of course that the "cn Miss Van Ankeii is to build one— sort of memorial chapel?' No, I hadn't heard of it.' Yes, she is prepared to do it at once. She will be down here to-day or to-morrow to make the final arrangements. - That is why we came.' «*"«mfee 'Ah I see!' observed Mrs. Wilcox, with increased respect for the firm of Sparks & Fowel-and correspondingly their female representative. ■• v no re t„^ A rf«!^ l lLl^s^ b^ y r,:t more ' wi the nced,e the mL?S 1 m " ,c arc " itcct ' s "'"«' ' h »™ y°" seen 'No. Gentleman or lady 'Neither Very likely some school-teacher or stenographer on her vacation. I wonder that they admit such people here. Probably they do it to eke out the servant? wages suppose rooms are cheap on the sixth floor ' Is she domiciled there?' and 'Oh, I don't know! She walked up from the station and carried her own luggage—a very small, straw soft case. I judge by what I saw.' ' J w Slut

1 I'm not particularly interested in that sort of people,' observed Mrs. Wilcox languidly. 'But,l agree with you; they ought to be kept in.their place.' There she is now !' whispered Mrs. Sparks, as a young lady issued from a French window on the other side of the piazza; and, after a pleasant ' Good-morning 1' to the two —who returned it with stony glances and stiff bends of the headhastened briskly down the steps. 'Did you ever!' exclaimed Mrs. Wilcox, when she could command herself. ' The impertinence of some people ! It is becoming almost insufferable!' said Mrs. Sparks. ' Probably she is a maid sent on in advance of her mistress, or a governess,' replied Mrs. Wilcox. 'I see she came out of the most expensive suite in the house.' '0 dear! I do hope we are not going to be annoyed by a pack of children,' grumbled the other lady. 'I share your hope; but I imagine there is nothing to fear,' observed her friend. 'lf she were a governess, the children would be with her. I fancy she is a lady's maid.' 'She is wearing a- beautiful linen blouse.' ' Yes and that blue cloth skirt must have been an expensive purchase. That kind of people put every cent they can on their backs, you know.' ' She seems quite at ease.' 'Oh, they always do! They are very adaptable.' This'remark called forth a ripple of laughter from the two ladies, who passed the remainder of the morning in more or less harmless —carefully refraining, however, from wounding each other's feelings, though commenting freely on the faults and. failings of their absent friends and acquaintances. About the middle of the afternoon Mrs. Wilcox sought a. secluded summer-house, with a novel in her hand; pi-e----ferring solitude to the company of her new friend, of which she had already grown slightly wearied. Arrived there, she found the young woman of the linen blouse and tailor-made skirt seated at one of the small tables. She seemed to be "examining a map or chart. She looked up pleasantly as the other woman entered, but Mrs. Wilcox gave no sign of having seen her. The girl sat very quietly, studying the papers before her; Mrs. Wilcox ' furtively watching her, resenting her presence, and inwardly fuming at what, if she had expressed herself in words, she would have styled the ' odious self-possession of such persons.' She was not to escape her new acquaintance, however. In a few moments Mrs. Sparks came slowly along in the same direction. Glancing into the summer-house and seeing Mrs. Wilcox, she entered and seated herself in one of the wicker rockers. Presently the pair began a whispered conversation, which, if there is any truth in the accepted adage, should have caused their neighbor's ears to burn. But she was so deeply engrossed in her task that she took no heed of their loud whispers or peculiar glances. At length she arose and began to roll up the papers on the table, confining them with a wide rubber band. Suddenly she put her hand to her breast and uttered an exclamation. She looked on the table an 3 under it, the two ladies watching her with silent curiosity. 'I beg your pardon, ladies!' she said at last. 'I think I must have lost a precious gold cross after leaving the hotel.' "' Was it so very valuable?' asked Mrs. Sparks. ' To me, at least, it was,' rejoined the girl, resuming her search for the missing trinket. As she moved the roll of paper from the spot where she had placed it on the table, the cross fell to the floor, resting at the feet of Mrs. Wilcox, who picked it up, and, instead of offering it at once to the owner, passed it to Mrs. Sparks, who began to examine it. It was about two inches in length, beautifully chased, and encrusted with small diamonds. An enamelled leaf, studded with emeralds and rubies, lay across the centre. It was a most delicate piece of workmanship. 'Ah, I am so glad I did not lose it!' exclaimed the girl. Mrs. Sparks continued to examine it. Did you ever see anything more beautiful?' she asked of her companion. 'Never!' was the reply. It is a chef'd'muvre. certainly. And the design is so odd. The chasing is exquisite.' 'lt must be very old,' observed Mrs. Sparks. 'lt is fit for a queen.' 'lt is reputed to have belonged to Catherine de' Medici,' said the girl pleasantly; quite unsuspicious of what was passing in the minds of the other two ladies. Now, Mrs. Sparks and her friend had, between them, only a hazy idea of who Catherine do' Medici had been. ißut they were aware of the fact that she had helped to J make history; and, while her past ownership of the cross served in their minds to make it more desirable and valuable, the fact of its possession, by the present owner rendered it, in their opinion, doubly strange and suspicious. Mrs. Sparks, the more daring of the two, again turned it over in her hand before she asked: ' And where did you get it?' The pale cheeks of the girl became crimson. She was small of stature, but her height seemed to overtop that of her rude inquisitor as, with bead, thrown back and eyes flashing, she indignantly said ;

_ 'Madame, lam not at all aware that it concerns you.' \ou have asked a most impertinent question. Have the goodness to hand me my cross.' w /^°?' cross! ' said her interlocutor, incredulously. What do you think, Mrs. Wilcox . ' Give it to her, of course,' was the reply. 'lt is none of our affair.' t> i'?i J am almost Slire it" does not belong to her. 1 robably she has appropriated it to her own use as an ornament, during the absence of her employerintending to replace it, I hope; and was very much alarmed when she thought it lost.' 'Give it to me at once!' exclaimed the girl imperiously. Mrs. Sparks laid the cross on the table. What insolence!' she muttered, as the girl, seizing tho cross and the roll of paper, hurried from the arbor. The animadversions and criticisms of the two ladies, their unkind suspicions and petty remarks on what had occurred, would not interest the reader. Let them be connned to the four walls of the summer-house, as unworthy of being recorded here. But fully an hour was occupied in discussing the incident, when the setting sun, which warned them that the tram which was to convev their respective have " e " I*' respectable husbands might perhaps already So it proved. As they neared the hotel, Mrs. Wilcox perceived the Judge standing on the piazza, fanning himself with his broad Panama; while Mrs. Sparks could not repress an exclamation of astonishment at what her eyes beheld. Seated under the shade of a pergola near the driveway was her husband; and beside him, earnestly engaged in pointing out something on the unrolled chart she held, sat the girl whom she had insulted an hour previously The supper bell had rung before they separated—the young girl going in the direction of the French window of tho suite from which she had issued in the morning; while the architect came toward his wife, who was standing. with Judge and Mrs. Wilcox, awaiting him. ; ' Who is that girl, Ernest?' inquired Mrs. Sparks, after a hurried word of greeting and introduction. How do you happen to know her?' • .' T la ci is i Miss Van Anken,' replied the architect, smil--1!lg <'ai ii e \ &s come down for a day about the church.' Ah! exclaimed Mrs. Wilcox, in a tone of unconcealed vexation. ' Q—h— !' wailed Mrs. Sparks, in a voice that sounded like a cry of hopeless and unavailing despair. She had relied much on the coining of Miss Van Anken; confident, through her husband, of meeting that young lady; and counting upon the fact of being, like the benefactress of religion, a Catholic— such-she was. in name rather than practice. The belief" they shared in common, added to the business relations between her husband and Miss Van Anken, had seemed to her sufficient to promise great things in a social way. She had looked forward with much pleasure to the moment when she would present the heiress to Mrs. Wilcox, whom, in her own narrow little heart, she already accused of being a snob.' ■ t But one sudden and devastating blow had scattered her deeply-laid plans; and, dreadful to contemplate, it was her own hand that had worked their destruction! She had been overtaken by the Nemesis which occasionally lies in ambush for such as she. There was just one way of escape from the humiliation, the mortification, that awaited her either to plead illness on the morrow and until Mrs. Wilcox should have departed, or herself depart. The latter plan was not feasible; she must remain with her husband, to whom she could explain nothing. But she need not have passed a sleepless night, as she did; for Judge Wilcox and his wife left the hotel early next morning while Miss Van Anken took her departure shortly alter. And the architect never heard the story