The Strand Magazine, Vol. 01, No. 06, June 1891: An Illustrated MonthlyVarious
General
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 01, No. 06, June 1891: An Illustrated Monthly
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
Lady Weston White was not one of Arthur's intimate friends, but he was
on her list, and he generally received cards from her three or four
times in the course of the year. He had not intended to go to her house
in Grosvenor-street on this occasion, but Jack's letter settled it,
and he got out his swallow-tail. The money he must have, and there was
no other way of getting it. There were letters to write, and a lot of
things to be attended to which he calculated would keep him up till one
o'clock in the morning. Well, he would have to stop up another hour
or so, that was all. At half-past eleven he was in Grosvenor-street,
engulfed in one of those London crowds of ladies and gentlemen which
contribute to the success of a London season. The beautiful house was
literally packed; to ascend a staircase was a work of several minutes,
and to find his friend Jack in such a vast assemblage a matter of
considerable difficulty. It was a notable gathering; the _élite_ of
society were present, distinguished men and fair women, and Arthur,
as he squeezed his way along, thought he had never seen so wonderful
a profusion of diamonds and lovely dresses. The ladies seemed to vie
with each other in the display of jewels. They glittered in the hair,
round the necks, in the ears, on the arms and bosoms, on shoes, and
fans, and ravishing gowns; and Arthur observed that a new fashion was
coming into vogue, diamond buttons on ladies' gloves. "If any of the
light-fingered fraternity were here," thought Arthur, "they could
gather a fine harvest." And said aloud, "Allow me." A lady had dropped
her fan, and Arthur managed to rescue it from the crush of feet. It
sparkled with diamonds. At length Arthur reached the hostess, who held
out two fingers to him.
[Illustration: "ALWAYS YOURS--JACK."]
Lady Weston White was a woman of great penetration, and, as became a
society leader, of perfect self-possession. She never forgot a face
or a circumstance, and, busy as she was at present in the performance
of her arduous duties, she remembered that Arthur Gooch was to be
married within a few hours; she remembered, also, that to her R. S.
V. P. she had received a line from him regretting he could not accept
her kind invitation. She said nothing, however, but gave him rather a
questioning look as he passed on to allow other guests behind him to
pay their respects to their hostess. The look puzzled him somewhat; it
seemed to ask, "What brings you here?" He had quite forgotten that he
had declined her invitation. At length, after much polite squeezing
and hustling, after dropping his handkerchief and picking it up again,
to the annoyance of some neighbours who had become fixtures and could
scarcely move for the crush, he saw Jack Stevens in the distance. They
were both tall men, and communication being established between them
they made simultaneous efforts to get to each other. This accomplished,
Arthur hooked Jack's arm, and said:
"Let us get out of this as quick as we can."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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