FEELING THEIR WAY.
(A Study in the Art of Genteel Conversation.)
SCENE—The Drawing-room of a Margate Hotel. Time—evening. Mrs. ARDLEIGH (of Balham), and Mrs. ALLBUTT (of Brondesbury), are discovered in the midst of a conversation, in which each is anxious both to impress the other, and ascertain how far she is a person to be cultivated. At present, they have not got beyond the discovery of a common bond in Cookery.
Mrs. Allbutt. You have the yolks of two eggs, I must tell you; squeeze the juice of half a lemon into it, and, when you boil the butter in the pan, make a paste of it with dry flour.
Mrs. Ardleigh. It sounds delicious—but you never can trust a Cook to carry out instructions exactly.
Mrs. All. I never do. Whenever I want to have anything specially nice for my husband, I make a point of seeing to it myself. He appreciates it. Now some men, if you cook for them, never notice whether it's you or the Cook. My husband does.
Mrs. Ard. I wonder how you find time to do it. I'm sure I should never—
Mrs. All. Oh, it takes time, of course—but what does that matter when you've nothing to do? Did I mention just a small pinch of Cayenne pepper?—because that's a great improvement!
Mrs. Ard. I tell you what I like Cayenne pepper with, better than anything—and that's eggs.
Mrs. All. (with elegant languor). I hardly ever eat an egg. Oysters, now, I'm very fond of—fried, that is.
Mrs. Ard. They're very nice done in the real shells. Or on scollops. We have silver—or rather—(with a magnanimous impulse to tone down her splendour), silver-plated ones.
Mrs. All. How funny—so have we! (Both women feel an increase of liking for one another.) I like them cooked in milk, too.
[The first barrier being satisfactorily passed, they proceed, as usual, to the subject of ailments.
Mrs. Ard. My doctor does do me good, I must say—he never lets me get ill. He just sees your liver's all right, and then he feeds you up.
Mrs. All. That's like my doctor; he always tells me, if he didn't keep on constantly building me up, I should go all to pieces in no time. That's how I come to be here. I always run down at the end of every Season.
Mrs. Ard. (feeling that Mrs. ALLBUTT can't be "anybody very particular" after all). What—to Margate? Fancy! Don't you find you get tired of it? I should.
Mrs. All. (with dignity). I didn't say I always went to Margate. On the contrary I have never been here before, and shouldn't be here now, if my doctor hadn't told me it was my only chance.
Mrs. Ard. (reassured). I only came down here on my little girl's account. One of those nasty croopy coughs, you know, and hoops with it. But she's almost well already. I will say it's a wonderful air. Still, the worst of Margate is, one isn't likely to meet a soul one knows!
Mrs. All. Well, that's the charm of it—to me. One has enough of that during the Season.
Mrs. Ard. (recognising the superiority of this view). Indeed one has. What a whirl it has been to be sure!
Mrs. All. The Season? Why, I never remember one with so little doing. Most of the best houses closed—hardly a single really smart party—one or two weddings—and that's positively all!
Mrs. Ard. (slightly crushed, in spite of a conviction that—socially speaking—Balham has been rather more brilliant than usual this year.) Yes, that's very true. I suppose the Elections have put a stop to most things?
Mrs. All. There never was much going on. I should rather have said it was Marlborough House being shut up that made everything so dull from the first.
Mrs. Ard. Ah, that does make such a difference, doesn't it? (She feels she must make an effort to recover lost ground.) I fully expected to be at Homburg this year.
Mrs. All. Then you would have met Lady NEURALINE MENTHOL She was ordered there, I happen to know.
Mrs. Ard. Really, you don't say so? Lady NEURALINE! Well, that's the first I've heard of it. (It is also the first time she has heard of HER, but she trusts to be spared so humiliating an admission.)
Mrs. All. It's a fact, I can assure you. You know her, perhaps?
Mrs. Ard. (who would dearly like to say she does, if she only dared). Well, I can hardly say I exactly know her. I know of her. I've met her about, and so on. (She tells herself this is quite as likely to be true as not.)
Mrs. All. (who, of course, does not know Lady NEURALINE either). Ah, she is a most delightful person—requires knowing, don't you know.
Mrs. Ard. So many in her position do, don't they? (So far as she is concerned—they ALL do.) You'd think it was haughtiness—but it's really only manner.
Mrs. All. (feeling that she can go ahead with safety now). I have never found anything of that sort in Lady NEURALINE myself (which is perfectly true). She's rather odd and flighty, but quite a dear. By the way, how sad it is about those poor dear CHUTNEYS—the Countess, don't you know!
Mrs. Ard. Ah (as if she knew all the rest of the family), I don't know her at all.
Mrs. All. Such a sweet woman—but the trouble she's had with her eldest boy, Lord MANGO! He married quite beneath him, you know, some girl from the provinces—not a county-family girl even.
Mrs. Ard. (shocked). Dear, dear! not a county family!
Mrs. All. No; somebody quite common—I forget the name, but it was either GHERKIN or ONION, or something of that sort. I was told they had been in Chili a good while. Poor MANGO never had much taste, or he would never have got mixed up with such a set. Anyway, he's got himself into a terrible pickle. I hear Capsicums is actually to be sold to pay his debts.
Mrs. Ard. You don't say so! Capsicums! Gracious!
Mrs. All. Yes, isn't it a pity! Such a lovely old place as it was, too—the most comfortable house to stay at in all England; so beautifully warm! But it's dreadful to think of how the aristocracy are taking to marry out of their own set. Look at the Duke of DRAGNET—married a Miss DUCKWEED—goodness only knows where he picked her up! but he got entangled somehow, and now his people are trying to get rid of her. I see so many of these cases. Well, I'm afraid I must wish you good evening—it's my time for retiring. (Patronisingly.) I've quite enjoyed this conversation—such a pleasure in a place like this to come across a congenial companion!
Mrs. Ard. (fluttered and flattered). I'm sure you're exceedingly kind to say so, and I can say the same for myself. I hope we may become better acquainted. (To herself, after Mrs. ALLBUTT has departed.) I've quite taken to that woman—she's so thoroughly the lady, and moves in very high society, too. You can tell that from the way she talks. What's that paper oil the table? (She picks up a journal in a coloured wrapper.) Society Snippets, the Organ of the Upper Ten. One Penny. The very thing I wanted. It's such a comfort to know who's who. (She opens it and reads sundry paragraphs headed "Through the Keyhole.") Now how funny this is! Here's the very same thing about the dulness of the Season that she said. That shows she must be really in it. And a note about Lady NEURALINE being about to recruit at Homburg. And another about her reputation for eccentricity, and her "sweetness to the select few privileged to be her intimates." And here's all about Lord MANGO, and what a pleasant house Capsicums is, and his marriage, and the Duke of DRAGNET's too. Her information was very correct, I must say! (A light begins to break in upon her.) I wonder whether—but there—people of her sort wouldn't require to read the papers for such things.
[Here the door opens, and Mrs. ALLBUTT appears, in some embarrassment.
Mrs. All. (scrutinising the tables). Oh, it's nothing. I thought I'd left something of mine here; it was only a paper—I see I was mistaken, don't trouble.
Mrs. Ard. (producing Society Snippets). I expect it will be this. (Mrs. ALLBUTT's face reveals her ownership.) I took it up, not knowing it was yours. (Meaningly.) It has some highly interesting information, I see.
Mrs. All. (slightly demoralised). Oh, has it? I—I've not had time to glance at it yet. Pray don't let me deprive you of it. I dare say there's very little in it I don't know already.
Mrs. Ard. So I should have thought. (To herself, after Mrs. ALLBUTT has retired in disorder.) Fancy that woman trying to take me in like that, and no more in Society than I am—if so much! However, I've found her out before going too far—luckily. And I've a good mind to take in this Society Snippets myself—it certainly does improve one's conversation. She won't have it all her own way next time!