Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 32, Number 137, 9 June 1907 — Page 7

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r 1 HE Dallas - Brookes gave fortnightly parties during the season at their house la Portchester Gate. They had an enormous number of rich friends, a sprinkling of rislne friends, and a careful list .of artistic creatures whom many persons of weight Jwere often pleased to recognize In an Informal way. Mrs. Dallas-Brooke had secured several priceless prqjeintances by inviting them to meet a new Calve, or a comiug Caruso, or a second Thackeray, or a SheUey of the future, or some accomplished lady who had danced, acted or painted for Their Majesties. But if Mrs. Dallas-Brooke was adroit, she was a!so generous; In her heart, she found artistic creatures interesting, and she rescued a number yearly from landladies, dressmakers and suicide. There was, among her favorites a young man named Rendel Paget. On a certain evening in June he brought to one of Mrs. Dallas-Brooke's parties a youth. and the youth's sister. The youth could imitate Coquelln, Duse and Sarah Bernhardt; the tdst.?r played Henselt with very little technique, as it is now understood, but with peculiar grace. She was thin, nineteen, dark-eyed and pale. When Paget, the youth (who was called Cecil Monmouth), and the si3ter (who was called Vivien), drove up In their four-wheeler to Portchester Gate, many guests had already arrived. In the morning-room, which had been reserved for the ladies cloak-room, five or six women were alternately staring with malevolence, at each other, and making unconsciously strange grimaces at themselves In the looking-glass. Vivien noticed that each person, as she gazed at lier reflection, knitted her brows or screwed up her lips or half shut her eyes. Not one of them spoke, and " thsre seemed no kind of acquaintanceship possible between them; yet, as they passed out on their way to the staircase, they all surveyed Vivien as though the were, an Intruder and their common enemy. The girl, who had never before been in a house where she was utterly unknown to its hostess and her circle, felt suddenly despondent. She wished she had not come, and she had the mortifying senso of being already, at her first appearance in what she took for society, a failure. She could never bo able to bear the coldness, the unfriendly, suspicious, criticizing glances. Sinking into a chair she wondered how she could run away. The sound of her brother's voice gave her a little confidence, but although she stood up at his call. It was th magic of Paget's flashing eyes which encouraged her to cross the hall and mount the staircase. Otherwise she must hav fled out Into the street away from the women ith bare necks and arm the copper lamps shaded in amethyst siik, and th overpowering scent of powder, perfumes and burning pastille3. The butler announced: "Mr. Rendel Paget. "Mr. and Miss Monmouth. Vivien, terrified almost to unconsciousness, found herself shaking hands with a fresh-looking ; woman about forty-five, who, as she smiled and showed her fine teeth, seemed to be saying to each fresh arrival: "My husband is not very well. The doctor would not allow him to come down. It is happily nothing serious, although it is the greatest bore; ' so, please, enjoy yourselves or he will blame me for being a bad hostess." She looked at Vivien, who felt that she was being admired. , Her lost self seemed to rush back Into her own possession; , the color returned to her cheeks and Hps; she held up her head and entered the crowded ro6m with all the assurance of a child, who has money in her pocket, entering a toy-shop. The floors were polished and one had to walk carefully for fear of slipping; there were on the walls fine pictures, illuminated from beneath by strong electric light?; at least seventy people were standing about the room in groups or.sitting side by side on chairs and sofas and settees. It was a small important party, especially invited to hear a distinguished Hungarian composer play his own new sonata. Paget pointed ovit the richest ttoek-brokers. the bankers, many well-known en- , gingers, a few ladies of title, two peers who were inteiested in commercial undertakings, several eminent members of the legal profession and some retired orScials of minor rank. By this time the Hungarian composer had taken Ms place at the piano. Audible comments were passed on hts appearance, which was found at once disappointing, theatrical, dowdy and fascinating. Filence was maintained while he played, and at the end of each movement the applause was general if languid. When the sonata was finished. Paget, ia obedience to a rapid . signal from Mrs. Brooke, valked toward the platform, and the guests, at the Fight of the handsome young man, kept their seats. A murmur went round the assembly: "Rend?l Paget! One tan always hear what he says," H enchanted the company by his delivery of, " I did but see her passing by, Yet I will love her Till I die," rnd he gave them as an encore, "Cupid rnd my Campaspe played At cards for kisses; Cujid paid." It was now Vivien's turn. Mrs. 3?alI.is-Brooke herself led the girl to the piano and took a seat close beside the instrument. Once at the key-board, Vivien could forget the crowd. S.a played as Paget sang- with a simplicity wr'-h treated excitement "So restful'" -So soothing!" because it was uncommon. NBX T Wl 1

$ $K

THE STORY PRESENTED HERE

, "A Matter of Temperament," is the one Craigle. This fact alone would excite unusual welcome each new product of her gifted pen, the recent announcement of her death. Apart ture that will arouse interest in the mind of an unusual side to it, its character analysis is perament," it brings that rather vague and neb nowadays into a sunlight glare to which those dom care to see It exposed. The illustrations accompanying the story are thy of the name he has won as an illustrator. - "Such a relief!" She played three 6hort pieces, and at the end caught Pagt-t's glance of congratulation. An Illustrious C. B. took the delighted girl now liked by the strange ladies down to supper (it was all informal); he made gentlemanly love to her, and asked her whether she liked sweets and if he might call. She explained that she lived with her brother and an uncle, at 99A Blenheim Crescent, Notting Hill. "And from whom did you .inherit your genius?" asked the C. B. "Mymother painted miniatures," said the girl, "and my grandmother wa4 on the stage." "Then the Muses are in your pedigree," said the gallant C. B.; and he added effectively. If vegufcly, "No wonder!" But, flattered as she was by the attention of the distinguished gentleman, she looked for Rendel Paget, with whom she was deeply Infatuated. He "I WAS ABOUT TO WRITE h.r.d c'ust cr.'ered the supper-room and he was alone. "I am afraid," she said apologetically, "that I rra engaged to Mr. Paget for supper. He's try lag to find rae. The C B. bowed with ironic deference ar.d withdrew as though Vivien had given him to understand that for the present, at any rate, she was under jealous protection. "You pinyed beautifully." said Paget, as he trok cer in charge. Sl-e j-re??ed hi? arm with her srjsll sensitive, band, and he fell his heart stir within him The two fcr-d, been acquaint?'! for a far: night. He had traveled with Cecil and herself In a 5aad3trrJn to Brighton; Paget had lent Cecil a copy of A M M If A o 0

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written by "John Oliver Hobbes," the late Mrs. interest among all who had learned to eagerly

and who received with feelings of personal loss from this, however, the story itself is of a naevery one who reads It. It is a love story with good and its action Is dramatic. As to "temuloua miality of which we hear so much who pride themselves upon its possession selfrom the pencil of Gilbert Parker and are worthe Referee and by degrees they , started a conversation. Paget had been struck' by Vivien's face the moment he entered the compartment. Sho was his "type" that is to say, she had the delicate physique which appealed irresistibly to his imagination. "I can't get rid of that feeling." he said after a pause, "that I .have known you for ever so long. All your expressions and gestures are familiar to me." She smiled innocently at his innocence. "That is always the way with everybody. It's in all the poetry and novels.", "But this is such a vivid feeling it Isn't vague and romantic," he Insisted; "it isn't the usual thing."-. She, however, satisfied that the symptom was normal in all cases of pre-ordained love, led him on to the exchange of those sweet flatteries, which, between the enamored, seem to each other a perfect TO YOU," SAID PAGET. understanding of the other's soul. Perhaps they are right---for to love is to see perfection's, and to soe perfections is to believe in divinity, and To believe in divinity is to acknowledge the incorrupt part in all character. CHAPTER II. Paget, after leaving the Monmouths at the Qaeen's Rbad station, drove in a cab to the Albany, where he had chambers on the first floor overlooking the covered walk: He was beginning to make a good income by concert engagements, and he had irheiitd a little money from his god-mother, but.' for hi.-? means, his habits were luxurious. Always in debt, always harassed, and always extravagant.

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his sustaining hope was to compose an opera which would make a fortune; In Vivien Monmouth, he had found, he knew, the inspiration which he. had craved vainly until their meeting. When he reached his rooms, he paced the floor in a feer, hearing eternal harmonies on . the subject of Daphnis and Chloe. An artist by nature, he had never paused to appraise his own Instinct for music. Part of his spirit and all his real language. It rose and surged In his brain, just as color lives in an eye. Music was his life, and what hv could not express in music he Imperfectly realized. - To-night the fever and exaltation of his Ideas were Eiiddenly disturbed by a visitor. It was Heimerfelt, his agent, flushed, smiling, and prosperous: "I have got some good news for you forty guineas a week on a five jears contract; option of renewal ft sixty guineas a week acts of God apart olar lead; to be billed as star; London engagement. . . . I'm not Joking," he continued, fearing that he was breaking good news too violently on an unprepared mind. He drew out his cigar-case and presented It with the noble gesture which he reserved for the successful only to the artist. Paget took a cigar, but he bit off the end in a provoking, meditative manner, which lowered Heimevfelfs spirits. "Tho fact 13, Heimerfelt," said he, "I have made

up my mind to leave the profession. I shall stick to my composng." "Good God!" "I don't care for the life. I don't enjoy singing on platforms. And what I don't enjoy I can't do." Heimerfelt was too upset to keep his cigar alight. It dropped from his fingers, while he muttered oaths under his breath: "You are all alike," he exclaimed; "an ungrateful set. I bring you into notice: I study your interests: I introduce you to the big managers: I put up with all your capers and antics. I work up booms, and I study the market. I obtain- magnificent offers entirely through my own personal influence and then, for my pains, I am made a fool of." "1 believe I've lost heart for the work. You wouldu't like me to turn out a bad bargain for the Syndicate?" "What does that matter to us so long as they will sign the contract? And there's a beautiful part for you in the new production four changes of costume. Oriental atmosphere, and the three . best solos Vardelle has ever written. You haven't taken it all in. That's what's the matter with you." "I'm sure everything about it is splendid except me." "There's to be a duet with Rosie Raleigh 'I kiss and I coo. Best thing I ever heard. Vardelle ran it through for Edwards and me last night after supper. 'The man to sing that," said I, Ms Rendel Paget.' 'I thought his line was grand opera,' said Vardelle. 'All in good time, said I; 'he's in no hurry to begin the heavy before he's thirty. He listens to my advice. But you won't listen to my' advice, he added, with a wail. "Oh, you have made me feel so ill!" "I'm more sorry than I can say, and I hope you won't throw me over even now. Can't you place my opera for me?" s "Place an opera! You must be mad!" "It Isn't written yet, but it's all in. my head, and it's charming." "The man is mad," said Heimerfelt, addressing the air. "My life is my own, isn't it?" "Forty guineas a week thrown away!" "But composers make money." "Not when they have your notions." "Wait till you hear Daphnis and Chloe!" "Buncombe and drivel!" 1 "You'll think it over and change your mind." Th3 veins in Heimerfelt's forehead became swollen; he grew purple in the face, and, too angry to trust himself further with a client who might yet do well in the long run, he dashed from tho room and on to the public staircase, down which he descended hurriedly into the covered walk and so out toward Piccadilly. "Now, for peace; now for my music!" thought Paget. CHAPTER III. Paget had opened the door of the lobby, when he heard (the rustle of silken skirts on the staircase. His fate clouded, an expression of pain tightened the corners of his mouth, and, as he stood under the .lamp, he looked suddenly pale. The wearer of the silken skirts now turned the corner and appeared upon the landing. At the sight of Paget she smiled with a sort 6f weary tenderness. He hastened to meet her, He ushered her into his room, and after she had crossed the threshold he bent and kissed her gloved hand an act of homage or affection which she received as a matter of complete indifference. She sat down in an arm-chair, unfastened her evening cloak of embroidered velvet, and unwound a lace scarf from her head. The lady was an-actress, advertised professionally as Mrs. Otway, but the name was known to be an assumed one. There were manv speculations on the subject. Of her antecedents little was known. At sixteen' she married; at twenty she went on the stage, making her debut as Juliet at a matinee. She had now attained celebrity, toured in America, and created several leading parts by modern dramatists. "I was about to write to you," said Paget. "Whit about?" He explained as "plausibly as he could Heimerfelt's offer and its rejection.. The main factor of Mrs. Otway's charm was its uncertainty. No one could say how she would act, feel or express herself In any given circumstances. She received the news of Paget's altered plans quietly enough: "You know your own business best." - Hf-r tone was colorless, almost impersonal. "Yes, I do," he said, eagerly; "the stage has lost' all Its glamour for me. You like it " "I am obliged to like it." "At any rate, it does not bore you, I want to write an opera." - "I understand that." "You understand everything. You are a' wonderful woman. It's such a load off my mind to have told you. I was afraid too might think me foolish." "If I hwd thought so." she said, placidly, "it would hve altered nothing! Aa it happens, I think you're right." , A quick blush of gratitude swept over his face, and something like affection kindled in his eyes as he grasped her hand: "I'm doubly confident if you agree. There's a strngg!e in store for me. but I feel equal to it." "And the mony question?" "Odious! Still, a few believe in me, and they are thb right few."

Oliver Hobbes,

"So long as you see that j our work is too original to be accepted without severe criticism, and as long as severe criticism does not daunt you, I shall feel contented. But men of genius who can stand rough treatment as beginners often become bitter when the attacks are maintained. Bitterness won't suit you." "I must take ray chances with the rest." "Well," she said, "you're not vain, and to have no vanity ia often more useful in public life than, any amount of courage. You have courage, too. Altogether, 1 am not afraid for you. And now there's something else I want to Bay." Paget's breath came quickly, and, for the first time since her arrival, she showed a visible embarrassment. "About us," she continued. "I curso my selfishness every day." he said. "Don't do that. We were both Belflsh." "No not you. Never you." "We were both young and heedless. I fell madly in love with you and you thought you were In love with me. There is no one to blame. Tho hard thing is," sbe added, smiling, "that we cannot get quite Tree of each other. We can't annul our marriage, and divorce is impossible." "I suppose so." "Undoubtedly. I have no Intention of placing myself ir. the wrong. First of all, there's the child. You can think of that yourself. I hope you will. Why spoil the whole of your life? But I must think of the child. It sh'ant be said that he had a bad mother. They may say, if they like, that hi father was a genius. That won't injure him!" "You know how, I hate this topic," he said, "we must make the, best of it. There's no one in the world whom I care for quite as I care for you." "That 1 believe." "It's In an unsatisfactory way, I know. I suppose you were terribly mistaken In me?" "No, my dear.not in you in life. After all, ws have had very happy times together. I'm sure 1 loved you most devotedly. I have quite recovered, .but it seems that we must both be charming, or we could not remain such good friends!" "You are charming I am not." "Darling, jou are not to blame. You wanted a life all music, and flowers, and light, and beautiful colors! Nothing dull, nothing ugly, nothing painful, nothing to make you wretched! You couldn't face the four-wheeler, the perambulator, baby's tl:t bath, and baby! ' You couldn't endure the landlady, 'the other lodgers, the smoking chimney, and the same cold joint three days running. It was easier for me, because the child is such a delightful child. He took jam when the butter was nasty, and he slept beautifully on my arm, no matter how hard the bed was of course it was all easier for me." t "But you were as little used to discomforts as I was. You are making me feel ashamed of myself a wretched creature!" "No! You tried to bear It. I saw you were sinking under it. it was horrible. I know that I'm not a genius because sordid things don't jnr on me. I dislike them, but they don't weigh on me as they oppress you. We should both have Jicvl if we had not separated. And then what would have become of the boy? Everything has been for the best. But " She hesitated she rose from her chair and wont over to the fireplace, where she knelt on the hearthrug and held out her hands to the fading fire: "But I think he ought to be told now that he I jour son. He would be proud of you. You could g: down and see him at his dear little school. Boys love to exhibit handsome parents and relative. He'll be seven next month. Let us go down together to see him on his birthday. It can't hurt either of us to acknowledge our marriage now. In fact, it would sound romantic, and people would be amused " "Now," said Paget, "now after all these years?" "For the boy's sake. They all know that I mas legally married to somebody, but now I'm better known it is difficult to keep up the mystery. Thev may begin to suspect disagreeable things, which would reflect upon the child. You can go abroad and finish jour opera; people will never expect you and me to fettle down in a humdrum way. Poor dear, you could never have settled down with any woman in the world In any circumstances. You find and follow a new Inspiration every few months'" He winced, but he made no reply. "I havo never interfered with your libertr. I

sh an t begin to Interfere now. You are eterni allr resiiess ana discontented, not becauee you are fickle, but because you are an artist. But we ought to say that the boy Ir ours, and that his name ia Rendel Paget. When he grows up, you'll love him very much and be proud of him." "I do love him as he is. Cara." "Yes in the distance." "No. that Isn't fair. But, as you say, men donl understand very young children. I like to please 3ou in every way. and if you want to make our marriage a matter of public gossip, I will do anything you wish." "It- is for the child's sake," she repeated. "He asked me the other day if you were dead. I said you once went to sea In a big ship. Then he began to cry, for fear you were drowned. All night long the poor little thing called out, 'Don't let him get drowned!' He's impressionable and artistic like you." "Every word you say cuts int me. If you were a revengeful woman, I should think you were taking your revenge." ' "Revenge for what?" "For all I have made you suffer. You don't deceive me. There are tears in your voice always. I moon about my opera, while you work your way up from a pound a week to an income of two thousand a year. I went moaning about our beastly odgngs, and you have patiently made, by your own hard work, a home. I see the situation plainly " Hi? countenance had become hard and worn and haggard during the discussion. Terror had entered into him at the prospect of telling Vivien that he was married. He would lose her his Inspiration the inspiration which Cara had never bfn and could not be. Yet he had a deep fondness for Cara, and more fondness than he realized for his son. "WeI," said Cara, "we needn't decide to-night. There's a whole month yet before Baby's birthday." She rose and trld not to see the relief on Paget's face as he heard that he had a month's respite. So many things could happen In a month. He fastened Cam's cloak, wound the scarf round her small, graceful head and shining hair, offered her his arm down the stair, and helped her Into her brougham, which wss waiting In Vigo street. Sh -went bark to the theatre to attend a rehearsal which was to begin at one s. m. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.