Life — November 3, 1892 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AT THE Mrs. Van Shuter lifted her heavy eyclids, ducked her double chin; Mrs. Vernon’s color rose, and her tiara tipped forward. Mrs. Vernon had crossed the Rubicon. Dick Hen- derson and Freddy de Witt rehearsed it afterward at the club, and a number of lorgnons took in the fact. But Mrs. Van Shuter’s condescension did not stop at this. “Your mother got the notice of the meeting at my house on Friday of next week?” she asked of Betty. ‘Tell her I count on her. There are so many coming who won't signify. It is to be a talk from that Mrs. Duncombe, the new woman who has had such success with the lower classes.” ‘*What does she do to the lower classes?” Betty inquired. “Oh! er—everything; it is a scheme for making work- ing-women understand their legal rights against their hus- bands.” “T should think her chief trouble would be from the mar- ried couples between whom she interferes.” “Eh? oh! She says with a Fund an immense deal may be done. I made her understand that I can’t be looked to to give money, with all I have to do. But I said they may meet first in my Empire room, and I let my Miss Thompson write the notices.”” OPERA. ‘€1T suppose we shall know, when we get there, what it is all about,” said Betty, fearlessly. “Yes, certainly. There are to be flowers distributed among the poor, in pots—with little pamphlets revised by lawyers. Perhaps Mrs.—ah—Vernon would like to come. If she would like to come, I don’t mind telling Miss Thomp- son to write a card for her.” “She might; I don’t know,” said Betty. ‘She's awfully rich, and very generous. But I very much doubt her going unless you first call on her.” A surprised look made itself manifest upon the Idol’s large pink face. But, then, everybody in town knows it was pains thrown away to be affronted by Betty Halliday. “But you know, my dear, I never go in anywhere. And my first footman, James, engaged with me never to leave the box to ring a bell, except in an emergency.” . . . This is a brief extract from “ Sweet Bells Out of Tune,” the new novel of New York society, by Mrs. Burton Harrison, author of “ The Anglomaniacs.” It begins in the November “Century” with a delightful account of a fashionable wed- ding. The sixteen-page opening instalment includes three of Mr. Gibson's best society drawings, of which one is shown above. comicbooks.com