Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1912-12-11


was"
It was not till later years that For
tune grasped the true significance Of
this statement 1t illumined many
pages. She dropped all Investigations,
concluding wisely that her mother, if
she were minded to speak at all, could
supply only the incidents, the details.
It was warm, balmy, like May in the
northern ATTITUDES. Women wore
white dresses and carried sunshades
over their shoulders. A good band
played airs from the new light-operas,
and at one side Of the grand-stand
were tea-tables under dazzling linen.
Fashion was out. Not all her votaries
enjoyed polo, but it was absolutely
necessary to pretend that they did.
When they talked they discussed the
Spanish dancer who paraded back
and forth across the tea-lawn. They
discussed her jewels, her clothes, her
escort, ana quite frankly her morals,
which of the four was by all odds the
most popular theme. All agreed that
she was handsome in a bold way. This
the right sort of women from the
wrong sort, from which there is no ap-
peal to a higher court They could
we'll afford to admit of her beauty,
since the dancer was outside what is
called the social pale, for all that her
newest escort was prince incognito.
They also discussed the play at bridge,
the dullness Of this particular season,
the possibility of war between Eng
land and Germany. And some one
asked others who were the two we'll
goWned women down in front, sitting
on either side of the young chap in
pearl-grey. No one knew. Mother and
daughter, probably. Anyhow, they
knew something about good clothes.
Certainly they weren't ordinary tour
lists. They had seen What's-his-name
tip his hat; and this simple act would
pass any one into the inner shrine,
for the general was not promiscuous.
There, the first-half was over. All
down for tea! Thank goodness!
George was happy. He was proud,
too. He saw the chances, the mods of
approval. He basked in a kind of
sunshine that was new. What an ass
he had been all his life! To have
been afraid of women just because
he was Percival Algernon! What he
should have done was to have gone
forth boldly, taken what pleasures he
found, and laughed with the rest Of
them.
There weren't two other women in
all Cairo to compare with these two.
The mother, shapely, elegant, with
the dark beauty Of a high-class Span
lard, possessing humor, trenchant COM
ment, keen deduction and application;
worldly, cynical, high-bred. The stu
dent Of nations might have tried in
vain to place her. She spoke the
French of the Parisians, the Italian
Of the Florentines, the German of the
Hanoverians, and her English was the
envy of Americans and the wonder of
the LOndOners. The daughter fell be-
hind her but little, but she was more
reserved. The worldly critic called
thfs good form; no daughter should
try to outshine her widowed mother
AS Fortune sat beside the young col
lector that afternoon, she marveIed
why they had given him Percival Al
gernon. Jones was all right. solid and
substantial, but the other two turned
it into ridicule. Still, what was the
matter with Percival Algernon? His
tory had given men of these names
mighty fine things to accomplish.
Then why ridicule? Was it due to the
perverted angle Of vision created by
wits and humorists in the c0Gnic week
lies, who were eternally pillorying
these unhappy pref1xes to ordinary
cognomens? And why this pillorying?
She hadn't studied the subject suf-
fcfently to realize that the business
of the humorist is not so much to
amuse as to warn persons against be-
coming ridiculous. And Percival AL
gernon Jones was all of that. It re-
solved itself into a matter of values,
then. Had his surname been Mont
morency, Percival Algernon would
have fitted as a key to it's lock. She
smiled. No one but fond mother
would be guilty of such crime. And
If she ever grew to know him well
enough, she was going to ask him all
about this mother
What interest had her own mother
in this harmless young man? Oh
some day she would burst through this
web, this Jungle; some DAY she would
see beyond the second act! What
then? she never troubled to ask her.
self; time enough when the moment
arrived
ct had an interesting adventure
last night, a most interesting one"
began George, who was no longer the
shy, numbering recluse. They were on
the way back to town.
'Tell it me-" said Mrs. Chedsoye.
He leaned over from his seat beside
the chauffeur of the hired automobile.
(Hang the expense on day like
thisD GA fellow brought me rug
last night, one of the rarest outside
the museums. How and where he got
it I'm not fully able to state. But