THE AMORS OF SOCIETY.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3171, 17 March 1911, Page 3

THE AMORS OF SOCIETY.

KLINING' BRILLIANT CAREERS. This article from “1L.A.P.,” is written by a. lady who has exceptional ■ opportunities of knowing the real truth of what is going on in smart political society. There is nothing that interests society so much as- a love affair. If it- be an illiet ono, all the'better, and all the more interesting. For it is the fashion to make love to one’s neighbour’s husband or wife as the case may be, and to find flirtation infinitely more diverting after marriage than before. ’l’lie modern society woman, with nothing in particular to do—save fritter her day away in amusements; soop grows tirfd of the .humdrum Early Victorian idea, of having no other, admirer save her owh husband. What is the use of her beauty-culture, and her strenuous efforts to keep her figure if she is

to have no one outside the family circle to appreciate her charms? It is not la mode t-o waste one's sweetness on the desert air; and a woman blessed with an instinct Tor dress and an infinite capacity for being flattered soon falls into the way of collecting a train of admirers, who form a sort ot triumphal procession, of which she is inordinately proucl. The next step is the embarking upon a flirtation, which she treats with all the seriousness of a grand passion. In nine eases out of ten, the experience, if properly analysed, would prove to have no deeper origin than sheer vanity, but never for one moment does she allow even to herself that this is the case. Her love affairs becomes the all-absorbing interest in her life. Not only does it keep her satisfied and amused, but it supplies her with an exucse for posing as a heroine to herself and to every, woman friend she possesses —all of whom are solemnly admitted to her confidences and given a lengthy description of every phase and emotion which the affair provides. 11 ie lady nas much to say concerning the tragedy of the situation: much to relate about the folly of marrying before she knew her own mind, and more concerning the inartistic and blunted perceptions of an unapreciaptive and brutally British husband. “All that she might have clone, all that she might have been, had only fate used her less harshly,” is duly explained and expatiated'upon to her patient listeners.

For there is no secrecy, no reserve, about these love affairs of modern society. Rather are they treated as something to boast about and something to glory in, and to use as a weapon to make other women jealous. The fact is, half the interest of such affairs would be lost if the heroine could not talk about them. If a woman has no one handy to confide in, she either romances concerning her emotions and produces a popular six-shilling novel, or else she keeps a diary fastened with a golden key, which she wears hanging on her bangle. In this, every folly, every secret is duly chronicled for future reference —generally to be used a>s damning evidence against her later on in the divorce' court: while for the present it makes entertaining enough reading for her maid, who, if she is not already in her mistress’s confidences, generally makes it her business to make herself an couranfc 'vith all that .is going on. indeed, before L’affairc is six weeks old, the, only person possible who has not been tolcl all about it ‘in confidence” is the heroine’s husband, who does not trouble to make too close inquiries—or, if he has an inkling, philosophically resigns himself to the idea that there is safety in numbers; and trusts to his wife's respect for what the world will say in case of exposure, to. save her from getting into serious mischief or allowing his name to he mixed up in any grave scandal. In nine cases out of ten he is not very far wrong. For the society heroine is nothing if she is not inconstant.

One day she tragically pours , out a story of suffering sentiment in which she and a prominent man of affairs play the

harrowing part of Antony and Cleoj i tra; the next time one meets her she equally tragic and firmly prepared to i ; nuance everything in order to live ! | ideal life in an ideal cottage with li ; son’s penniless but romantic tut( There is, however, little danger of su a catastrophe coming to pass; for week hence- she is feverishly consultii the fates, in the form of tlie latest s eiety palmist, concerning a certain ion haired society musician who is her nei est protege, and who, she assures yci is possessed of the same artistic so that she boats herself. So it goes on. No saving sense humor comes to her aid to prevent h; making a fool of herself. The older si grows, the more sentimental her star and the more shameless her imaginai confessions to friends and acquain ances. I Nothing seems to cure her of lw * folly, which becomes little short of a obsession as time goes on. She cd scarcely speak to a man without imagii ing herself in love with him or he i | love with her. So she goes from on I I/affaire to another until society in tini forgets to be sympathetic, and friend and foes laugh at her imaginary romaij ees and cruelly mimic her sentiments confidences. What they generally over look is the real gravity of the situation and the irreparable mischief that can li j wrought*by one such vain and silly wq ] man —who cares for nobody save herself and who, feeding her mind on trash! novels, wastes her life trying to livj up to the unwholesome ideals which tlici present. 1 j Yet it is no secret that more tlnu ‘ one well-known public man of our tim< has had a brilliant career ruined and hij ‘ domestic hapiness tragically destroyed by coming into contract with some such “would-be Circe," who openh boasted of his acquaintance and win] ! magnified the importance of his friend] 1 ship out of all proportion, until what first started as idle gossip soon gained color and developed into a serious scan] dal. j

i Even at the best of times the mere. | hint of some such sentimental romance I—which,1 —which, as often as not, exists only in !,the too fertile imagination of t-lie lady i herself — may bring about an impossible] 1 state of affairs, wholly unrefutable lid . the hero, who suddenly awakes to find ! himself the victim of the lady’s all too. , loquacious confidences, and who is in the j unhappy predicament of being utterly; j unable ' to defend himself or to claim! | any redress or protection from the gos- | sip and scandalmongers who eagerly) j seize upon and openly discuss this latest] scandal in high life. . .J I The idea of an action for libel is quif-i, ! out of the question, and nothing re-j j mains for him but to let the friend-; I ship coo! as rapidly as possible, in the. | hope that his self-appointed TEgeria may.; scon discover someone else upon whom j ! to lavish her roving affections.