Of course there is in Mallingham, as in every other country town, a
first set and a second set--perhaps even a third, but that must be very
close indeed to the unclassed tradesmen set, which is no set at all. And
here it may be mentioned that the tradesmen's families are, as a rule,
very much more refined and almost invariably better educated than
the families of the first or second sets. Some years ago there was an
amateur performance of one of Mr. Sutro's delightful plays given in aid
of some deserving charity. Charity performances cover, as does Charity
itself, a multitude of sins, but the leading lady did not need to make
any appeal for leniency, so ably did she represent the part of the
refined woman who was not quite sure whether she loved her husband or
not. She was the daughter of a professional man, but had never succeeded
in getting into the first set; for it must be remembered that there
is no graduating from one set to another: one is either accepted
or rejected at once. A couple of years later, however, the play was
repeated, only this time it was under the highest patronage, so the
management resolved to get the real thing. They managed to secure the
services of a lady of title for the chief part, and the result was
appalling. The refinement had vanished from the part, so had the correct
pronunciation of the English language, so had the good taste in the
toilettes worn, so had every vestige of intelligence. In place of these
we were shown a pert young person with a voice like that of a barmaid
in a country inn and a taste in dress to correspond. In the matter of
memory for the words of the dialogue also the advantage was certainly on
the side of the humbler representative of the part. In one of Mr. Henry
James' most delightful short stories the catastrophe of “The Real
Thing” is depicted. It was not more pronounced than that of the second
representation of the comedy.
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It is really very difficult to understand what are the qualifications
for the best set in Mallingham; but somehow people usually find
themselves in the set that suits them, and very seldom do the rulers of
the social grades in Mallingham make a mistake. They have now and again
sailed very close to the wind, however; for that was a nasty rub they
got when they hastened to call upon a stranger, with the title of
Baroness, who had taken a house in the new part of the town and kept a
man-servant. As the story was told me, the ladies jammed one another in
the doorway in their anxiety to be the first caller upon the Baroness,
or Madame la Baronne, as the wife of a retired Indian civil servant
called her, having studied the idioms of the _Comédie française_.
Madame la Baronne was indeed a lady of great personal charm, and she was
invited everywhere--even to the villa of the wife of the leading
brewer, which represented a sort of Distinguished Strangers' Gallery in
Mallingham. The competition among the most select for the presence of
Madame at their houses was strenuous; and as she was in such demand
it really should not have been regarded as so surprising that a London
magistrate should send her a peremptory invitation by the hand of two
detectives to come to the court over which he presided. His messengers
would take no denial, he wanted her so badly, so she had perforce to
throw over her local engagements and grant the magistrate the favour
which he requested of her.
Her portrait was in the _Daily Mirror_ the next day, in connection
with a startling series of headlines, beginning, “The Bogus Baroness
Again--Arrest at Mallingham.” She was one of the most notorious
swindlers that France ever returned to her native shore, after a series
of exploits in Paris.
The ladies of Mallingham ran up against one another in the porch of her
villa in their haste to get back the cards they had left upon her.