A Wandering Bride

Gisborne Times, Volume XXX, Issue 3500, 16 April 1912, Page 3

A Wandering Bride

BY MARION WARD.

Author of “Love’s Thorny Path,” “His Fair Lady,” etc. (Published by Special Arrangement: All Rights Reserved.) CHAPTER XXIII. A LIVING MODEL. Agatha Carey was a clever woman, not by reason of book-learning or accomplishments, but by dint of clear judgment and shrewd common-sense; but even she felt sorely troubled about Loveday’s future. “.You are much too pretty to live alone,” she told the girl frankly, “even if you had enough money to keep you. Of course, I have plenty of friends, and I might, find you apost with on© of them as governess or companion ; hut I am leaving London. in two days, and the time is all too short for the necessary inquiries and arrangements. I am willing and anxious to help you, only I can’t see my way. What do you tliink yourself ? Have you any plan about your future ?”

Loveday shook her head. “I should, like to go back to tbe Convent,” she said simply. “I should feel so safe there, so shut in from the world.”

“You would go melancholy mad,” said Mrs Carey, speaking sharply, because she could not bear tbe idea of a fate which seemed to her a living death for a girl so young and beautiful as Loveday. “What you want is plenty of work and variety. Would, you like to. stay in London or go into the cduntfv ?’’

“I have no choice,” said Lovedav; then with- a recollection that London contained Ronald, and it meant come, thing to be even in the same city with him, “at least, I think, perhaps, I had better be in London-. In tbe country people ask so many questions about a stranger, but here everyone is too busy with his own concerns to trouble.”

“You are very pretty,” said Mrs Carey musingly, “prettier, I think, than ever. Lovedav, if I could find you a post, where vour face and figure would he your chief recommendations, should you think it infra dig?” Lovedav looked bewildered.

“I —I don't quite understand,” she said slowly . “I would do any work that is honest.’ ’

"It is honest enough, hut—l should not-like the life myself.”

Loveday’s eyes asked her to explain, and Agatha continued: “A friend of mine—an old schoolfellow. to- be exact—was left a widow three years ago, and- has gone, into business to support herself and her children. It’s quite the fashion now, you know, for fine ladies to keep shops. Well, Bertha Tremaine could not teacli or act-; she would not leave licir children, to he a companion; she hated the thought of keeping a board-ing-house; hut she had two thousand pounds— the money for which her husband’s life was insured—and to live on - the interest of that would have meant semi-starvation, so she took a shop (atelier she calls it) at the West End, and started as a fashionable modiste. She calls herself Madame Berthe, and charges fabulous sums for her ‘confections’; she always had exquisite taste, and she design* the costumes herself, and then has her ideas carried out by efficient work-women.

“I always go to see Bertha when I am in town, and I was with lmr this afternoon; she was almost in despair because the ‘model’ on whom she displays her creations had deserted her owing to sudden illness, and she was at her wits’ end hmv to replace her. “What is required is a girl of ladylike appearance to try on hats, jackets, fkdnis, and what not, and walk •slowly up and down while the customers make up their minds. I warn you, it is not an easy life; f,i o ladies can be -very selfish and inconsiderate. But the pay is good—thirty shillings a week and dinners—and, though the girls you would he thrown with are not gentlewomen as we understand the term, they am quiet and well-behaved. “If Bertha Tremaine would engage you, it might tide you over an a .reward time; and when once Bennerron •has gone to the Riviera and I an back in town, I would try to find y.u a. pleasanter sphere.” “It is very, very good of you,” answered poor Love day. “I will g.r to Madame Berthe gladly if you think she will try me,” “You and I will have our breakfast at half-past eight to-morrow' morning —long before Frank is stirring—and then I will take you to Montgomery Street. Of course,” she hesitated, “I cant’ let Bertha suspect how nearly connected you are to me, I shall tell her I am very much interested in you, and that if th c chicks wore old enough for a governess I should have engaged you for them; that will convince her I think highly of you, then your face and figure must do the rest.” “And—what shall I call myself?” “The name you used at North cl iff will do as well as any other,” said Airs Carey. “Day! It is really part of your own name, you see. My

dear,” she said suddenly, after a long pause, “once more, won’t you be ■ persuaded to go back to Bennerton’ 'T cannot! Oil, I cannot!”

" I lien it only 'remains for me to speak ti liei-tha. It is the best thing 1 can do for you, but—l feel you won't like it.” “Do you mean the work will be too hard ? It sounds quite easy,” “I wasn’t thinking of the work, but of Bertha. iS’lie is my friend, and I am warmly attached to h p?-, but she is a martinet in business matters, and I should not like to be under her myself.

“She' is desperately anxious about the success of her .venture for her children’s sakes, and siie is inclined to set up the shop (I really can’t always remember to call it an atelier) as a sort of Moloch, to which everything and everybody must be sacrificed. Since she has to put up with so many whims and vagaries on the part of her clients, her patience is strained to the very utmost, and she lias none left for her employees. You will be safe with her, and not overworked; but I’m afraid I can't say anything else in favor of the post. : “I will take it thankfully, if only Mrs Tremaine will give it ma.” They were in Montgomery Street before ten. Mrs Carey went to the private door and sent in her card, with an urgent request for aii interview, and they were shown into a small slip on the second floor, evidently used as an office.

There, after a brief delay, Mrs Tremaine joined them, and Agatha Carey, leaving Loveday sitting by the gas stove, went to meet her friend, ;with whom she conversed in a low tone.

Loveday could not hear what was said, but she had a full view of her prospective employer, and used the chance to examine her face carefully.

Bertlia Tremaine was an utter contrast to her old schoolfellow. Agatha took life easily, and even when troubled more than usual by small means could be gay and light-hearted, but Bertha, evidently took life hardly, and her features had sharpened under the long strain. Faultlessly dressed and with a certain elegance of bearing, she yet looked worn and over-anxi-ous; she was dark, and her small, bead-like eyes seemed to have in indescribable keenness of expression: indeed, some of Madame Berthe’s gii'ls declared that she could see through a stone wall, and. really jt was not a bad description. She never thanked Agatha for her effort to assist her in her dilemma, but took the visit as made entirely in Miss Day's interest.

"I hate employing untrained ladies, they give themselves more airs than they are. worth,” she remarked. “I thought-, as you seemed in a fix yesterday, you might be glad of the chance,” replied Agatha. “But I won't trouble you further, Bertha; I <la resay Mrs Warner will have -nr opening for Miss Day.”

Airs "Warner was a trade rival. She had provided Agatha’s trousesau and “made” for her ever since. .Mrs Carey not having cared to deal with her friend, whose prices she describeo as “firghtful.” Mrs Warner'l3 name acted on Bertha as a red rag is supposed to act on a hull, and she became just ae eager to try Miss Day as she had been the .reverse. Loved ay was forthwith taken to the. dressing-room leading out of thc show-room, where some of the most elegant Paris bats and- the newest th-iig in mantles were tried on her one by one. She was kept a long time before Aladame decided, but at last she found herself engaged as “living model,” with instructions to enter on her duties at three o’clock. “You will want an hour or two to make your arrangements,” said her new employer: “Of course you will have to lodge quite near.” Mrs Carey was patroness of a .semiphilanthropic Home for , Working Gentlewomen, where if the inmates paid sufficient to cover their board and lodging they yet received many advantages not to be had in ordinary apartments. She took Loveday there and arranged for her to enjoy a eubiMo and partial board, with all her meals on Sunday, for the charge of eighteen shillings a week. “And you might he at Bennerfon Castle, the youngest, prettiest peeress in England,” said Agatha Car-y sadly, as having settled things at the Home, they drove back to the hotel to fetch Loveday’s bag. “L can never thank you enough for what you have done for me to-day,” was the girl’s answer, and that was how the Viscountess Bennertou entered on yet another scene of her chequered life. (To be .Continued.)