In Brief Authority Part 1

In Brief Authority.

by F. Anstey.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

It may be as well to mention here that the whole of this book was planned, and at least three-fourths of it actually written, in those happy days, which now seem so pathetically distant, when we were still at peace--days when, to all but a very few, so hideous a calamity as a World-War seemed a danger that had pa.s.sed for the present, and might never recur; when even those few could hardly have foreseen that England would be so soon compelled to fight for her very existence against the most efficient and deadly foe it has ever been her lot to encounter.

But, as the central idea of this story happens to be inseparably connected with certain characters and incidents of German origin, I have left them unaltered--partly because it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to subst.i.tute any others, but mainly because I cannot bring myself to believe that the nursery friends of our youth could ever be regarded as enemies.

F. ANSTEY.

_September 1915._

CHAPTER I

"THE SKIRTS OF HAPPY CHANCE"

On a certain afternoon in March Mrs. Sidney Stimpson (or rather Mrs.

Sidney Wibberley-Stimpson, as a recent legacy from a distant relative had provided her with an excuse for styling herself) was sitting alone in her drawing-room at "Inglegarth," Gablehurst.

"Inglegarth" was the name she had chosen for the house on coming to live there some years before. What it exactly meant she could not have explained, but it sounded distinguished and out of the common, without being reprehensibly eccentric. Hence the choice.

Some one, she was aware, had just entered the carriage-drive, and after having rung, was now standing under the white "Queen Anne" porch; Mitch.e.l.l, the rosy-cheeked and still half-trained parlour-maid, was audible in the act of "answering the door."

It being neither a First nor a Third Friday, Mrs. Stimpson was not, strictly speaking, "at home" except to very intimate friends, though she made a point of being always presentable enough to see any afternoon caller. On this occasion she was engaged in no more absorbing occupation than the study of one of the less expensive Society journals, and, having already read all that was of real interest in its columns, she was inclined to welcome a distraction.

"If you please, m'm," said Mitch.e.l.l, entering, "there's a lady wishes to know if she could see you for a minute or two."

"Did you ask her to state her business, Mitch.e.l.l?... No? Then you should have. Called for a subscription to something, I expect. Tell her I am particularly engaged. I suppose she didn't give any name?"

"Oh yes, m'm. She give her name--Lady 'Arriet Elmslie, it was."

"Then why on earth didn't you say so before," cried the justly exasperated Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "instead of leaving her ladyship on the door-mat all this time? Really, Mitch.e.l.l, you are _too_ trying! Go and show her in at once--and be careful to say 'my lady.' And bring up tea for two as soon as you can--the _silver_ tea-pot, mind!"

It might have been inferred from her manner that she and Lady Harriet were on terms of closest friendship, but this was not exactly the case.

Mrs. Stimpson had indeed known her for a considerable time, but only by sight, and she had long ceased to consider a visit from Lady Harriet as even a possible event. Now it had actually happened, and, providentially, on an afternoon when Mitch.e.l.l's cap and ap.r.o.n could defy inspection. But if it was the first time that an Earl's daughter had crossed Mrs. Stimpson's threshold, she was not at all the woman to allow the fact to deprive her of her self-possession.

A t.i.tle had no terror for _her_. Before her marriage, when she was Miss Selina Prinsley, she had acted as hostess for her father, the great financier and company promoter, who had entertained lavishly up to the date of his third and final failure. Her circle then had included many who could boast of knighthoods, and even baronetcies!

And, though Lady Harriet was something of a personage at Gablehurst, and confined her acquaintance to her own particular set, there was nothing formidable or even imposing in her appearance. She was the widow of a Colonel Elmslie, and apparently left with only moderate means, judging from the almost poky house on the farther side of the Common, which she shared with an unmarried female cousin of about her own age.

So, when she was shown in, looking quite ordinary, and even a little shy, Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson rose to receive her with perfect ease, being supported by the consciousness that she was by far the more handsomely dressed of the two. In fact her greeting was so gracious as to be rather overpowering.

"Interrupting me? Not in the very _least_, dear Lady Harriet! Only too delighted, I'm sure!... Now _do_ take off your boa, and come nearer the fire. You'll find this _quite_ a comfy chair, I think. Tea will be brought in presently.... Oh, you really _must_, after trapesing all that way across the Common. I can't _tell_ you how pleased I am to see you.

I've so often wished to make your acquaintance, but I couldn't take the first step, could I? _So_ nice of you to break the ice!"

Lady Harriet submitted to these rather effusive attentions resignedly enough. She could hardly interrupt her hostess's flow of conversation without rudeness, while she had already begun to suspect that Mrs.

Stimpson might form an entertaining study.

But her chief reason, after all, was that the prospect of tea had its attractions. Accordingly she attempted no further explanations of her visit just then, and was content to observe Mrs. Stimpson, while she rippled on complacently.

She saw a matron who might be about fifty, with abundant pale auburn hair, piled up, and framing her face in a sort of half aureole. The eyes were small and hazel green; the nose narrow and pointed, the wide, full-lipped mouth, which wore just then a lusciously ingratiating smile, showed white but prominent teeth. The complexion was of a uniform oatmealy tint, and, though Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson was neither tall nor slim, she seemed to have taken some pains to preserve a waist.

"Most fortunate I happened to be at home," she was saying. "And if you had called on one of my _regular_ days, I shouldn't have had the chance of a _real_ talk with you. As it is, we shall be quite _tete-a-tete_....

Ah, here _is_ tea--you must tell me if you like it weak, dear Lady Harriet, and I shall remember the _next_ time you come. Yes, you find me all alone this afternoon. My eldest daughter, Edna, has gone to a lecture at her Mutual Improvement Society, on a German Philosopher called Nitchy, or some such name. She's so bookish and well-read, takes such an interest in all the latest movements--runs up to town for _matinees_ of intellectual dramas--_quite_ the modern type of girl. But not a blue-stocking--she's joined a Tango Cla.s.s lately, and dances most beautifully, I'm told--just the figure for it. We got up a little Costume Ball here this winter--perhaps you may have heard of it?--Ah, well, my Edna was generally admitted to be the _belle_ of the evening. A perfect Juliet, everybody said. I went as her mother--Lady Capulet, you know. I _did_ think of going as Queen Elizabeth at one time. I've so often been told that if I ever went to a Fancy Dress Ball, I ought to go as her--or at all events as _one_ of our English Queens. But, however, I didn't. Mr. Stimpson went as a Venetian Doge, but I do _not_ consider myself that it was at all suitable to him."

She did not say all this without a motive. She knew that a local Historical Pageant was being arranged for the coming Summer, and that Lady Harriet was on the Committee. Also she had heard that, after rehearsals had begun, some of the princ.i.p.al performers had resigned their parts, and the Committee had some difficulty in finding subst.i.tutes.

It had struck her as not at all unlikely that her visitor had called with a view to ascertaining whether the services of any of the Stimpson household would be available. If she had, it was, of course very gratifying. If she had merely come in a neighbourly way, there was no harm in directing her attention to the family qualifications for a Pageant performance.

Her hearer, without betraying any sign of the mirth she inwardly felt, meekly agreed that Mrs. Stimpson was undoubtedly well fitted to impersonate a Queen, and that the costume of a Venetian Doge was rather a trying one, after which her hostess proceeded: "Perhaps you are right, dear Lady Harriet, but the worst of it was that my boy Clarence, who would have made such a handsome Romeo, insisted on going as a _Pierrot_!

Very likely you have seen Clarence?... Oh, you would certainly have noticed him if you had--always so well turned out. He's got quite a good post as Secretary to an Insurance Co., in the City: they think so highly of him there--take his advice on everything--in fact, he practically _is_ the Company! And only twenty-two! It's _such_ a relief, because there _was_ a time when it really seemed as if he'd never settle down to any regular work. Nothing would induce him to enter my husband's business--for I must tell you, Lady Harriet, we _are_ in business.

Sauces, pickles, condiments of every sort and description--_wholesale_, you know, _not_ retail, so I hope you aren't _too_ dreadfully shocked!"

Lady Harriet remarked that she saw nothing to be shocked at--several of her relations and friends were in business of various kinds, which gave Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson the opening she required. "Society has changed its views so _much_ lately, has it not?" she said. "Why, the youngest partner in Mr. Wibberley-Stimpson's firm is a younger son of the Earl of Fallowfields--Mr. Chervil Thistleton, and an Honourable, of _course_! I daresay you are acquainted with him?... Not? Quite a charming young man--married a Miss Succory, a connection of the Restharrows, and such a sweet girl! You may have met her?... Oh, I thought--but I really hardly know her _myself_ yet," (which was Mrs. Stimpson's method of disguising the fact that she had never met either of them in her life). "When he came into the warehouse he was perfectly amazed at the immense variety in pickles and sauces--it was quite a revelation to him. Only he can't _touch_ pickles of any kind, which is a pity, because it prevents him from taking the interest he might in the business.... Just _one_ of these hot cakes, dear Lady Harriet--you're making such a wretched tea!... I should like you to see my youngest child, Ruby. She's gone out to tea with some little friends of hers, but she may be back before you go. So much admired--such lovely colouring! But just a _little_ difficult to manage. Governess after governess have I had, and none of them could do anything with her. My present one, however, she seems to have taken to. Miss Heritage, her name is--at least she was adopted as a baby by a rich widow of that name, and brought up in every luxury. But Mrs. Heritage died without making a will, and it seems she'd muddled away most of her money, and there were claims on what she left, so the poor girl had to turn out, and earn her own living. Such a sad little story, is it not? I felt it was really a charity to engage her. I'm not sure that I can keep her much longer, though. She's far too good-looking for a governess, and there's always a danger with a marriageable young man in the house, but fortunately Clarence has too much sense and principle to marry out of his own rank. I do think that's _such_ a mistake, don't you, dear Lady Harriet? Look at the Duke of Mountravail's heir, the young Marquis of Mus...o...b..--married only last month at a registry office to a girl who was in the chorus at the Vivacity! I hear she comes of quite a respectable family, and all that," admitted Mrs.

Stimpson, who derived her information from her Society journals. "But still, can you _wonder_ at the poor Duke and d.u.c.h.ess being upset by it?

I've no doubt you are constantly coming across similar instances in Smart Society."

Lady Harriet disclaimed all acquaintanceship with Smart Society, which Mrs. Stimpson protested she could not believe. "I am sure you have the _entree_ into _any_ set, Lady Harriet, even the smartest! Which reminds me. _Have_ you heard anything more about that mysterious disappearance of the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Gleneagle's diamonds during her journey from the North last week? A tiara, _and_ a dog-collar, I was told.

Professional thieves, I suppose, but don't you think the d.u.c.h.ess's maid?--Oh, _really_? I made _sure_ you would be a friend of the d.u.c.h.ess's--but, of course, Society is so much larger than it used to be!"

"You are a far better authority than I can pretend to be about it," Lady Harriet owned smilingly; "and really you've given me so much interesting information that I had nearly forgotten what I came to see you about.

It's--well, I wanted to ask----"

"I think I can _guess_, Lady Harriet," put in Mrs. Stimpson, as her visitor paused for a second. "I've heard of your difficulties about getting players for the Pageant, and I'm sure I, and indeed _all_ the family, would feel only too honoured."

"It's most kind of you," Lady Harriet interrupted, rising, "but--but that isn't why I've troubled you. It's only that I'm thinking of engaging Jane Saunders as house-parlourmaid, and she tells me she was in your service, so I called to ask about her character, don't you know."

For a moment Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson wished she had been less precipitate, but she soon recognised that no real harm had been done.

"Saunders?" she said, "yes, she left me last month. Do sit down again, dear Lady Harriet, and I'll give you all the information I possibly can.

Well, when that girl first came, she had everything to learn. It was quite evident she'd never been in service before with gentlefolks.

Actually brought in letters in her _fingers_, Lady Harriet, and knocked at sitting-room doors! And _no_ notion of cleaning silver, and I like to see mine come up to table without a speck! However, after being with me for a while, she improved, and I can conscientiously say that she became quite competent in time. That is, for a household like _ours_, you know, where things are done in quite an unpretentious style."

"I don't think we are at all pretentious people either," said Lady Harriet, rising once more. "And now, Mrs. Stimpson, you have told me all I wanted to know, so I must tear myself away."

"Must you _really_ be going? Well, Lady Harriet, I've _so_ much enjoyed our little chat. There are so few persons in a semi-suburban neighbourhood like this, with whom one can have anything in common. So I shall hope to see more of you in future. And if," she added, after ringing for Mitch.e.l.l, "I _should_ find I've forgotten anything I ought to have told you about Saunders, I can easily pop in some morning." Lady Harriet hastened to a.s.sure her that she must not think of giving herself this trouble--after which she took her leave.

"Rather an amusing experience in its way," she was thinking. "Something to tell Joan when I get back. But oh! _what_ an appalling woman! She's settled _one_ thing, though. It will be quite impossible to take Jane Saunders _now_. A pity--because I rather liked the girl's looks!"

Meanwhile the happily unconscious Mrs. Stimpson had settled down in her chair again with the conviction that she had made a distinctly favourable impression. She allowed her eyes to wander complacently round the room, which, with its big bay window looking on the semi-circular gravel sweep, and its glazed door by the fireplace leading through a small conservatory, gay with begonias, asters, and petunias to the garden beyond, was not merely large, by Gablehurst standards, but undeniably pleasant. She regarded its various features--the white chimney-piece and over-mantel with Adam decorations in _Cartonpierre_, the silk fire-screen printed with j.a.panese photographs, the cottage-grand, on which stood a tall trumpet vase filled with branches of imitation peach blossom, the _etageres_ ("Louis Quinze style") containing china which could not be told from genuine Dresden at a distance, the gaily patterned chintz on the couches and chairs, the water-colour sketches of Venice, and coloured terra-cotta plaques embossed on high relief with views of the Forum and St. Peter's at Rome on the walls, and numerous "nick-nacks"--an alabaster model of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, a wood carving of the Lion of Lucerne, and groups of bears from Berne--all of which were not only souvenirs of her wedding-journey, but witnesses to Continental travel and general culture.

She could see nothing that was not in the most correct taste, as Lady Harriet must have observed for herself, together with the hammered copper gong, the oak chest, and the china bowl for cards in the hall.

Strange that Saunders should have been the humble means of bringing about so unexpected a meeting, but Providence chose its own instruments, and now the seed was sown, Mrs. Stimpson felt she could rely on herself for the harvest.