(_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!
[Illustration: "Dear, dear! _not_ a county family!"]
_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!
* * * * *