Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1904-01-23
CHAPTER /.

asking about the woman.
It is said that q golden key will I'M
lock all doors, but 1t may be questioned
whether this IS quite true, eeven in these
sordid, money~ioving, money grubbing
days. There are still houses in Mayfair
into which the mere millionaire can
never penetrate. There are'eountry seats
yet standing in England whose private
chambers the deet of parvenus have never
trod
But THIS woman of whom the world
was talking did not depend solely on her
money. Sine had that which exercises a
still more potent spell--eNquisite beauty
and rare mental charm.
Men lowed ito talk Ito her; to look deep
into her eyes; 'und therefore she was in
vited almost everywhere, even though
some OF the women looked askance at
her, and whispered that ominous "Who
is she I" into each others ears.
She gaMe her own history frankly
enough She had been born in Canada
her mother had been a ggoverness; her
father an artist. They died when she
was an infant, and until she was II she
lived with IA maiden aunt. Then the
aunt died, and the girl, being left alone,
married. "A year later she was a widow,
and year later still she inherited, all
Unexpectedly, IA princely fortune from a
distant cousin, and straightway came to.
England.
All this sounded straightforward,
enough, except that there seemed some.
mystery about 1.-THE husband. His name
had been Paul Beringer, and it was said
he was of good family. Nevertheless,
but dangerously little could be CLEANED
about him.
There Wexe people-so censorious is the
worldwide declared there was no hus-
bard at all. The widest stories were
afioat. One scandalous old dowager de-
claUed she knew for a fact that Emerald
BerEnger had danced on the boards of a
low Canadian itheater ever since she was
a child of B; Travelled rake protested
that he had seen her with his own eyes
serving out grog in canteen.
People listened, and raised their eye
broHgs; but they ended, most of them, in
asking Emerald BeriEger to their balls
and dinner parties, and in calling upon
her at her beautiful bijou residence in
Mayfair. 1t was quite possible the tales
we've true, but then it was also quite pos
sible they were false. life is too short
to verify the anteeedents of every
stranger, and in the meantime here was
the woman opening door after door in
society with her golden key, and per-
haps still more with her lovely face and
dazzling smile.
In the most exclusive OF london draw
ing pooms-that of the Duchess of Doom
the question of Mrs. Beringer's reeep-
ton into The inner circle was being dis
cussed with much vivacity and ANNA
ton.
After royalty there was no greater
woman in the land than her grace of
Doom She was the arbitress of fashion;
to be IN her set" was to attain the pin
nacle of fashionable greatness.
She was q tail, thin woman of so.
somewhat plain of feature, but with
royal stateliness of carriage. She had a
hawks eye-+a hawks nose, too, for that
matter-and "a tongue which could say
very witty and occasionally very bitter
things.
Not woman in England better fitted
to strike awe INTO the hreast of a pre-
sumptuous parwenu than Barbara Ouch
ess of Doom.
'But We mast draw the line some
where, don't you think so, duehess3'
The speaker was "a pretty, pert little
woman, with a tip-tilted nose and a mass
VI ldiIg HU4IN Halt, WHICH size were III al
most extraordinary fashion.
The duchess hooked slightly satirical
as she replied:
Il certainly agree with you, Lady Mon
tressor The difficulty is to decide ex-
actly where it should be drawn; every
body is so urgent to have it brought
down as far as themselves; so few are
willing to accept one which means lev
oil ha oh h. Dc,
but where?"
The little woman colored. and all pres
ent felt that she had been neatly
snubbed. The daughter of a pickle
manufacturer, and one who had had the
reputation of being somewhat OF Il
"pickle" herself, she had squeezed into
the best society on the strength of her
marriage with that respectable nobleman,
Lord Montressor. 1t was felt to be sheer
impudence for such a one to talk about
drawing the line" But for the fact that
Lord Montressor was her husbands old
est and dearest friend, the duchess would
never have permitted Flossie's pert little
nose to SO much as peep inside her draw
ing room.
man who was standing on the
hearth-rug looked up, with the air of a
familiar friend, to say:
IF it's Mrs Beringer you're talking
about, / think it safe to say she has
arrived She is probably the most
popular woman in London at this mo-
ment-present company, of course, ex-
cepted," ne added, with an easy little
bow and smile.
The man was Eustace Darnley. The
younger son of an impecunious earl, he
had probably not more in the way of a
settled income than would suffice to keep
him i'll cigars and gloves. Nevertheless,
he was one of the best-dressed men in
London; had chambers in the Albany;
took a string of four horses down with
him to Jeicesterslire; and drove the nat
test little mail pnaeton when in town.
How lac did it was a mystery to many
people. As a matter of fact there was
nothing new about his methods. Skillful
gambling and unlimited credit did it all.
He was tall, fair, handsome man,
with sleepy blue eyes and splendid teeth.
HIS shoulders were broad; mis- figure