CHAPTER XVI.
THE CLUB BECOMES POPULAR.
The influence of Wee Winnie on the war-path was soon apparent. On thefollowing Wednesday morning the ante-room of the Club was as crowdedwith candidates as if Lillie had advertised for a clerk with threetongues at ten pounds a year. Silverdale had gone down to Fleet Streetto inquire if anything had been heard of Miss Ellaline Rand's projectedpaper, and Lillie grappled with the applicants single-handed.
Turple the magnificent, was told to usher them into the confessional oneby one, but the first two candidates insisted that they were one, and ashe could not tell which one he gave way.
It is said that the shepherd knows every sheep of his flockindividually, and that a superintendent can tell one policeman fromanother. Some music-hall managers even profess to distinguish betweenone pair of singing sisters and all the other pairs. But even the mosttrained eye would be puzzled to detect any difference between these twolovely young creatures. They were as like as two peas or two cues, orthe two gentlemen who mount and descend together the mirror-linedstaircase of a restaurant. Interrogated as to the motives of theirwould-be renunciation, one of them replied: "My sister and myself aretwins. We were born so. When the news was announced to our father, he isreported to have exclaimed, 'What a misfortune!' His sympathy was notmisplaced, for from our nursery days upward our perfect resemblance toeach other has brought us perpetual annoyance. Do what we would, wenever could never get mistaken for each other. The pleasing delusionthat either of us would be saddled with the misdeeds of the other hasgot us into scrapes without number. At school we each played all sortsof pranks, making sure the other would be punished for them. Alas! theconsequences have always recoiled on the head of the guilty party. Wewere not even whipped for neglecting each other's lessons. It was alwaysfor neglecting our own. But in spite of the stern refusal of experienceto favor us with the usual imbroglio, we always went on hoping that theluck would turn. We read Shakespeare's _Comedy of Errors_, and thatconfirmed us in our evil courses. When we grew up, it would be hard tosay which was the giddier, for each hoped that the other would have tobear the burden of her escapades. You will have gathered from ourfriskiness that our parents were strict Puritans, but at last theyallowed an eligible young curate to visit the house with a view tomatrimony. He was too good for us; our parents were as much as we wantedin that line. Unfortunately, in this crisis, unknown to each other, theold temptation seized us. Each felt it a unique chance of trying if thething wouldn't work. When the other was out of the room, each made loveto the unwelcome suitor so as to make him fall in love with her sister.Wretched victims of mendacious farce-writers! The result was that hefell in love with us both!"
She paused a moment overcome with emotion, then resumed. "He proposed tous both simultaneously, vowed he could not live without us. He exclaimedpassionately that he could not be happy with either were t'other dearcharmer away. He said he was ready to become a Mormon for love of us."
_He was willing to become a Mormon._]
"And what was your reply?" said Lillie anxiously.
The fresh young voices broke out into a duet: "We told him to ask papa."
"We were both so overwhelmed by this catastrophe," pursued thestory-teller, "that we vowed for mutual self-protection against ourbesetting temptation to fribble at the other's expense, never to leteach other out of sight. In the farces all the mistakes happen throughthe twins being on only one at a time. Thus have we balanced eachother's tendencies to indiscretion before it was too late, and savedourselves from ourselves. This necessity of being always together,imposed on us by our unhappy resemblance, naturally excludes either frommarriage."
Lillie was not favorably impressed with these skittish sisters. "Isympathize intensely with the sufferings of either," she said slily, "inbeing constrained to the society of the other. But your motives ofcelibacy are not sufficiently pure, nor have you fulfilled our primecondition, for even granting that your reply to the eligible youngChurchman was tantamount to a rejection, it still only amounts to a halfrejection each, which is fifty per cent. below our standard."
She rang the bell. Turple the magnificent ushered the twins out and thenext candidate in. She was an ethereal blonde in a simple white frock,and her story was as simple.
"Read this Rondeau," she said. "It will tell you all."
Lillie took the lines. They were headed
THE LOVELY MAY--AN OLD MAID'S PLAINT.
The lovely May at last is here, Long summer days are drawing near, And nights with cloudless moonshine rich; In woodlands green, on waters clear, Soft-couched in fern, or on the mere, Gliding like some white water-witch, Or lunching in a leafy niche, I see my sweet-faced sister dear, The lovely May.
_She_ is engaged--and her career Is one of skittles blent with beer, While I, plain sewing left to stitch, Can ne'er expect those pleasures which, At this bright season of the year, The lovely may.
Lillie looked up interrogatively. "But surely _you_ have nothing tocomplain of in the way of loveliness?" she said.
"No, of course not. _I am_ the lovely May. It was my sister who wrotethat. She died in June and I found it among her manuscripts. Remorse setin at the thought of Maria stitching while I was otherwise engaged. Idisengaged myself at once. What's fair for one is fair for all. Womenshould combine. While there's one woman who can't get a husband, no manshould be allowed to get a wife."
"Hear, hear!" cried Lillie enthusiastically. "Only I am afraid therewill always be blacklegs among us who will betray their sex for the sakeof a husband."
"Alas, yes," agreed the lovely May. "I fear such was the nature of mysister Maria. She coveted even my first husband."
"What!" gasped the President. "Are you a widow?"
"Certainly! I left off black when I was engaged again, and when I wasdisengaged I dared not resume it for fear of seeming to mourn my_fiance_."
"We cannot have widows in the Old Maids' Club," said Lillie regretfully.
"Then I shall start a new Widows' Club and Old Maids shall have no placein it." And the lovely May sailed out, all smiles and tears.
The newcomer was a most divinely tall and most divinely fair brunettewith a brooding, morbid expression. Candidate gave the name of MissSummerson.
Being invited to make a statement, she said: "I have abandoned the ideaof marrying. I have no money. Ergo, I cannot afford to marry a poor man.And I am resolved never to marry a rich one. I want to be loved formyself, not for my want of money. You may stare, but I know what I amtalking about. What other attraction have I? Good looks? Plenty of girlswith money have that, who would be glad to marry the men I haverejected. In the town I came from I lived with my cousin, who was anheiress. She was far lovelier than I. Yet all the moneyed men were at myfeet. They were afraid of being suspected of fortune-hunting and anxiousto vindicate their elevation of character. Why should I marry to gratifya man's vanity, his cravings after cheap quixotism?"
"Your attitude on the great question of the age does you infinitecredit, but as you have no banking account to put it to, you traversethe regulation requiring a property qualification," said the President.
"Is there no way over the difficulty?"
"I fear not: unless you marry a rich man, and that disqualifies youunder another rule." And Miss Summerson passed sadly into the outerdarkness, to be replaced by a young lady who gave the name of NellLightfoot. She wore a charming hat and a smile like the spreading ofsunshine over a crystal pool. "I met a young Scotchman," she said, "at aNew Year's dance, and we were favorably impressed by each other. On thefourteenth of the following February I received from him a Valentine,containing a proposal of marriage and a revelation of the degradation ofmasculine nature. It would seem he had two strings to his bow--the otherbeing a rich widow whom he had met in a Devonshire lane. Being aScotchman he had for economy's sake comp
osed a Valentine which with afew slight alterations would do for both of us. Unfortunately forhimself he sent me the original draft by mistake and here is his
VERACIOUS VALENTINE.
Though the weather is snowy and dreary And a shiver careers down my spine, Yet the heart in my bosom is cheery, For I feel I've exchanged mine for thine. Do not call it delusion, my dearie, But become my own loved Valentine.
For that { stormy June day you } remember, { New Year's dance you must } When we { sheltered together from rain, { waltzed to a languorous strain, While the sky, like the Fifth of November, } And our souls glowed despite 'twas December } Gleamed with lightening outrivalling P { ain. } With a burning but glorious p { } Ah me! In my fire's dying ember I can see that { dank Devonshire lane. { bright ball-room again.
And } I spoke { of the love that I } bore you, Yet } { not then, fearing to } And of how for a widow I } yearned, Though for maidenly love my heart } Not a schoolgirl { and fealty I swore you, { I'd gazed on before you, And you listened till sunshine re- } turned, Had my heart with such sweet madness } Then { you } parted { from me who } adore you, { we } { but still I } And my heart and umbrella you spurned. } Though you may not my love have discerned, }
Not repelled by { hoarded-up } money, { having no } I adore you, my { Belle, } for yourself, { Nell, } You are sweeter than music or honey; And Dan Cupid's a sensuous elf, Who is drawn to the fair and the sunny, And is blind unto nothing but pelf.
Need we feel a less genuine passion Because we { shall } live in May-fair? { can't } Love { blooms rich } in the hothouse of fashion, { oft fades } 'Tis { an orchid that flourishes there; { a moss-rose that needs the fresh air; Yet I would not my own darling lass shun Were she even as { poor } as she's { fair. { rich } { rare.
There are fools who adore a complexion That's like strawberries mingled with cream. } As with Nubian blacking a gleam } A brunette } is my own predilection, But a blonde } And the glances from { dark } eyes that beam { blue } Then refuse not my deathless affection, Neither shatter my amorous dream.
You're the very first { woman } who's thrilled me { maiden } With the passion that tongue cannot tell. Of none else have I thought since you filled me With { despair in that Devonshire dell. } { unrest when the waltz wove its spell. } When your final refusal has killed me. On my heart will be found graven { Belle. { Nell.
"How strange!" said Lillie. "You combine the disqualifications of two ofthe previous candidates. You are apparently poor and you have receivedonly half a proposal."
A flaming blonde, whose brow was crowned with an aurora of auburn hair,was the next to burst upon the epigrammatic scene. She spoke Englishwith an excellent Parisian accent. "One has called me a young woman in ahurry," she said, "and the description does not want of truth. I amimpatient; I have large ideas; I am ambitious. If I were a grocer Ishould contract for the Sahara. I fall in love, and when Alice Lerouxfalls in love it is like the volcano which goes to make eruption. Figureto yourself that my man is shy--but of a shyness of the mostridiculous--that it is necessary to make a thousand sweet eyes at himbefore he comprehends that he loves me. And when he comprehends it, hedoes not speak. _Mon Dieu_, he does not speak, though I speak, me, withfan, my eyes, my fingers, almost with my lips. He walks with me--but hedoes not speak. He takes me to the spectacle--but he does not speak. Hepromenades himself in boat with me--but he does not speak. I encirclehim with my arms, and I speak with my lips at last--one, two, three,four, five, kisses. Overwhelmed, astonished, he returns me mykisses--hesitatingly, stupidly, but in fine, he returns them And then atlast--with our faces together, my arm round his graceful waist--hespeaks. The first words of love comes from his mouth--and what think youthat he say? Say then."
_I encircle him with my arms and speak with my lips._]
"I love you?" murmured Lillie.
"A thousand thunders! No! He says: 'Miss Leroux--Alice; may I call youAlice?'"
"I see nothing to wonder at in that," replied Lillie quietly. "Rememberthat for a man to kiss you is a less serious step than for him to callyou Alice. That were a stage on the road to marriage, and should only bereached through the gate of betrothal. Changes of name are the outwardmarks of a woman's development as much as changes of form accompany thegrowth of the caterpillar. You, for instance, began life as Alice. Indue course you became Miss Alice; if you were the eldest daughter youbecame Miss Leroux at once; if you were not, you inherited the name onlyon your sister's death or marriage; when you are betrothed you willrevert to the simple Alice, and when you are married you will becomeMrs. Something Else; and every time you get married, if you are carefulto select husbands of varying patronymics, you will be furnished with achange of name as well as of address. Providence, which has conferred somany sufferings upon woman, has given her this one advantage over man,who in the majority of instance is doomed to the monotony of ossifiednomenclature, and has to wear the same name on his tombstone which hewore on his Eton collar."
"That is all a heap of galimatias," replied the Parisienne with theflaming hair "If I kiss a man, I, surely he may call me Alice withoutdemanding it? Bah! Let him love your misses with _eau sucree_ in theirveins. When he insulted me with his stupidity, I became furious. I threwhim--how you say?--overboard on the instant."
"Good heavens!" gasped Lillie. "Then you are a murderess!"
"Figure you to yourself that I speak at the foot of the letter? Know younot the idioms of your own barbarian tongue? It seems to me you are asmad as he. Perhaps you are his sister."
"Certainly. Our rules require us to regard all men as brothers."
"_He!_ What?"
"We have rejected the love of all men; consequently we have to regardthem all as our brothers."
"That man there my brother!" shrieked Alice. "Never! Never of my life! Iwould rather marry first!" And she went off to do so.
The last of these competitors for the Old Maiden Stakes was a whirlwindin petticoats who welcomed the President very affably. "Good-morning,Miss Dulcimer," she said. "I've heard of you. I'm from Boston way. Youknow I travel about the world in search of culture. I'm spending the dayin Europe, so I thought I'd look you up. Would you be so good as toepitomize your scheme in twenty words? I've got to see the Madonna delCardellino in the Uffizi at Florence before ten to-morrow, and I want tohear an act of the _Meistersingers_ at Bayreuth after tea."
"I'm rather tired," pleaded Lillie, overwhelmed by the dynamic energyradiating from every square inch of the Bostonian's superficies. "I havehad a hard morning's work. Couldn't you call again to-morrow?"
"Impossible. I have just wired to Damietta to secure rooms commanding aview of Professor Tickledroppe's excavations on the banks of the Nile. Idote on archaeological treasures and thought I should like to see the OldMaids. Are they on view?"
"No, they are not here," said Lillie evasively. "But do you want to joinus?"
"Shall I have time? I remember I once wasted a week getting married.Some women waste their whole lives that way. Marriage is an incident oflife's novel--they make it the whole plot. I don't say it isn't aninteresting experience. Every woman ought to go through it once, butwith the infinite possibilities of culture lying all round us it's merePhilistinism to give one husbandman more than a week of your society.Mine is a physician practising in Philadelphia. Judging by the checks hesends me he must be a successful man. Well, I am real glad to have hadthis little talk with you, it's been so interesting. I will become anHonorary Member of your charming Club with pleasure."
/> "You cannot if you are married. You can only be a visitor."
"What's my being married got to do with it?" inquired the American inastonishment. "This is the first time I have ever heard that the name ofa club has anything to do with the membership. Are the members of theSavage Club savages, of the Garrick Garricks, of the Supper Clubsuppers?"
"We are not men," Lillie said haughtily. "I could pass over yourrelation to the hub of the universe, but when it comes to having aprivate hub I have no option."
"Well, this may be your English idea of hospitality to travellers ofculture," replied the Bostonian warmly, "but if you come to our crackCrank Club in the fall you shall be as welcome as a brand new poet.Good-bye. Hope we shall meet again. I shall be in Hong Kong in June ifyou like to drop in. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," said Lillie, pressing one hand against the visitor's and theother to her aching forehead.
Silverdale found her dissolved in tears. "In future," he said, when shehad explained her troubles, "I shall hang the rules and by-laws in thewaiting room. The candidates will then be able to eliminate themselves.By the way, Ellaline Rand's _Cherub_ is going to sit up aloft,--on athird floor in Fleet Street."