The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 3, 1901, Page 1

b N\’ = '(@@W)/// N }“ A (I e e ouse of Montague, need She has not cauty of the poet. are just irregular ison. r n ‘r" e Her large gray e from his €ves 1, with an expres- of Inughter half wistful, that is b o iar Sihushontor. Eer £ that indefinable shade et »es not meet ¥ s ne nor gold nor red, N o x ee—a combination e suall hdy” resuit, s achieved the “French od, though over the cheeks there is a s” that proves her Where the sleeve t there is a hint fully rounded tall™ nor yet fresh. has a fur erved ny story the pur- His a funnier smile. t it with her sore throat, a good can punish HIS LoORDSHIP CLOSES A WVINDO\W window and ad- THE DUKE o e AN £rimune chair and in- e L WRAE, ; o and ar- -3 4 custom to take thelr morning walk _“Look at the way we've been pestered. w d P es it Duchess is very pretty. —rather pretty. But for though it was ernoon the blinds and a soft shaded y for illumination. whose portrait will hung beside those of the famous THE VALTET BRINGS A FlE SCREBEEN, y$€=>s For JOVRGRACE® SAYS Trir : CALL BRoy climate n be bad for it, but it won't red bone. and the bell- iyful. The Duke re- 1 amused smile. He I and impressively boy, shoves, in a ga ards them with thers reads the nz 3 n reporters rep= Tesenting every paper.in town. from the big dailles to the weeklles MHer G to the rescue. “Here, Luttons,” she says, “tell them that we're tell them that we've gone to Europe; hem anyth but don’t let them up.. he Duke Is so soft-hearted to the she explains. 1l I've been there myself,” replies the Duke. *“I s’pose you know I wrote for one of the New York papers last year, I used to curse upstairs and down cellar if I sent a man out on a story and he came back without it. “I like to treat a reporter like a white man. Some of them, instead of appreciat. ing it, dub me ‘dead easy’ and write me down.” “Do_you like newspaper work?” inter. rupts her Grace. “My aunt, Miss Evans, nas written a great deal for the press.” There isn't a tinge of ostentation about this ducal pair nor the taint of cheap pride. The Duchess Is even careful to put on the brakes when describing Tanderagee Castle, her husband’s ancestral home. “Perhaps I oughtn't to go Into ecstacles over our own home,” Bhe says, “but It's really just the most beautiful place I have ever seen. We arrived there in tne evening, and the castle and the grounds were brilllantly illuminated and the ten- ants, about 1500 of them, turned out to Bive a rousing welcome. N “It was a strange fecling for ag Ameri- can girl. I was overcome at thé®thought of what my advent might meam to. those people. I hope to do everything within my power. for them.” The Duke patted her hand.approvingly: &nd the Lord smiled- his- satfsfactions- Entér her Grace Helena, ‘antique’ caken M‘wl_lh figures } ‘chase carved upon it. Just imagine, there 3 is & brass|ralling all around it, aftér the™ wide bordered by a hedge and gay with - old fashion of a King's. There s nothing. flowers, The ladies of our house make it thusiastically gs an Ame “I wish yey could pee the castle. And the most beautiful reom in it {s'toibe my | -own. \ It has always been ""5“' Duchess’ boudoir and has the’ dearest from the Duchess of Manchester. "Oh."{contlpqed the Duchess as, en-. schoolglr,’ the - somber about.the room, for much’of the ‘fuiniture is in-white and-goid, and the windows are draped in blue . silk and white lace. There are sixteen of these windows in the room, with a lovely view of the Duchess’wali and the gardens.” '“The Duchess' walk,” explained the Duke, *is,a.delighttul walk fifteen feet along this charming path.” Tea was now brought in, and the Duch- ess; with a pretty air of languor, born of isposition, presided. repeats her Grace, in answer to a q “Well, perhaps I may take an interest in politics. But F've never had a chance yet to test my likes or dis- Iikes In that line. Here, Willle-boy,” and she graclously hands her lord a cup of tea a la Russian (in fact, the tea Is mere- Iy Incidental). “Don’t call me ‘Willle, " pleads the Duke, “It's worse than Gracte. Billy, or even Bill, if you Ilke.” The Duchess makes a laughing little moue at him, and some one starts the ball rolling over the links. They are all in- tensely interested in w~olf, though the Duke confesses to being a “‘duffer” at the game. “But her Grace Is the real thing ‘At it”" he says, proudly, if rather \slangily. “But he’s not a ‘duffer’ at all sports.” put In the Duchess with pretty wifely de- fense. “‘Well, I've done a lot of shooting,” says the Duke. “There is bully shooting at Tanderagee. I'm very keen about boat- ing, too. I rowed In the Trinity crew when I was a first year man, and wa moved up three places In the river. I belong to the Leander Boat Club of Lon- don, to which only those are eligible who bave rowed three winning races, either in single sculls, doubles or in a crew.” “Stand up and show your musecle,” says Lord Lambert. and with all the airs and graces of the spleler for the strong man his Lordship feels his Grace's muscle. “Two hundred and eight pounds and hard as rocks,” is his final tribute to the Duke's brawn. Bave for a rather pasty skin, the Duke is a fine specimen of young manhood, as little like the pictured puny Duke of the pen as can be imagined. He has the basso profundo volce of the Englishman, but none of the cockneyism of the cad. He has annexed no small amount of American slang to his English. Above all the Duke has an easy, informal manner, and if there is any ego in his makeup it 1s not aggressively apparent. A request that the Duchess allow herselt to be photographed brings a storm of pro- tests. “I loathe it,” says the Duchess. “I sat In New York twice, and I made up my mind positively never to do it again.” No, no, no; they hadn’t any photographs with them, “Homestly,"said the Duke, ‘“we're not just saying this: we really Jhaven't one: If we had we'd glye— *“No, we wouldn't,” says her Grace, and krilts her brows in open disapproval. had one. of her Grace, but I tore it up,” confesses Lord Lambert, “just so [ couldn’t be tempted into giviag it to the papers. They've made such a mess of her photographs.” “Do you know," says the Duke, “the greatest thing in this country 1s the press? Talk about the sleuths on the police force. ‘Why, in New Orleans -the reporters gave us news of matters which we recelved hours afterward in sealell telegrams, Its very enterprising and‘all that, but it de- stroys all privacy of life, Don’t you suppose I know that the bigger and better part of the Amerfean publia —the part that has made this country wHat it is—don’t give a rap for me or my doings? Then why do the papers thrust it af them. I confess I can't stand it. “Here Is a sample of the Way some re- porters do things. We were crossing the border into California, when just at the screéeh of dawn some one curtains and handed me g telegram. ‘T 4m on my way to greet you in the name of the press of California’ it read. W meet you at Mohawk.’ “Tll meet you in Hades first; 1 saldq and rolled over to sleep. “But at 4 a. m—a. m., mind you—some one pulled at the curtaing again, * ‘Did you get that telegram I sent you? asked a voice. under- Jabbed at my * “Well, what do you want? I grunted, “T'd ke to Interview your Grace,’ an- swered the wideawake reporter. But i you don‘t care about tglking just sign this, and the thoughtful young man pulled out a long manuscript and handed me a fountain pen. “I knew I was up against It, so I half read the stuff, scratched out some of ) and signed just to get rid of him. The sound of approaching foot rests the laughter. “The doctor! the Duchess. “Oh, dear! And he me not te talk. Don't let him see me, Gracie.” And like two children who had been rau_nhl at the jam his Grace the Duke of Manchester and Helena, Duchess of Manchester, fled the room. Russian Jpies in America, The Russian secret police are probably the most skillful in the world; they need to be. In the days of Napoleon IIT the police of France had that reputation. They haven't it now—for the best of reasons. An Emperor needs skillful sples in all the world—a republic doesn’t. Russia has had its lessons in the death of the late Czar and in the many attempts made upon the present ruler. So the chief of political police keeps agents in every great city In the world. New Y. ork, whera 80 many Russian nihilists have found refuge; San: Francisco and Chicago are espectally. favored In this way. Escaped convicts from Siberia sometimes drift to the Pacific Coast, while Chicago 1s watched on general principles. New York, however, is getting to be more and more the chief object of the solicitous atten- tions of ghe Czar’s people. The spies who keep tab on nihilists in America always claim to be nihilists themselves, exiled for their political views or escaped suspects. It is their plan to secure admittance to some of the many nihilist circles here and keep the police in- formed of what goes on. So long as the nihilists confine them- selves to, speechmaking nothing is done about it. But if one of them should start for St. Petersburg with such a mission as that which took Bressi from Paterson the home authorities would bg, wasmed and stand ready to receive himh after certaln well-known precedents,