CHAPTER XXII

REGINA ON THE WARPATH

There is much more value in the many "cures" that we take nowadays than is at first apparent to the eye. One cannot take a cure for the renovation of any part of one's body without, at the same time, renovating part of one's mind.

The immediate effect of going home again was to make Regina more convinced than ever that the hussy had a very real and tangible existence. On the very first day Alfred made haste to catch the earlier of the two trains by which he had been in the habit of traveling to town. There was nothing in that circumstance--oh no. He had been away for a full month, and Regina's opinion of her husband's partner was but small. He had brought the bulk of the money into the firm, while Alfred had supplied the major part of the brains, and had, in fact, built up the business to its present flourishing state; so, of course, there was nothing in the actual circumstance that Alfred should hurry through his breakfast so as to catch the earlier train. He fussed and fumed a little, too, and let fall a word to the effect that he knew he should find everything at sixes and sevens, and that he wanted to have one or two things settled before the Chamberlains went away for their autumn holiday. Regina too, on her side, was naturally extremely busy that morning. She had to look after her housekeeping, to lay in supplies, to hold consultations with each of her servants, and to look out a couple of dresses of slightly more solid material than those which she had worn at Dieppe--not that she needed them for warmth, for the weather was, as the weather so frequently is in September, mild even to sultriness. The sun and the sea air had made the gowns which Regina had taken to Dieppe appear to her worn and shabby, and she therefore would have to fall back upon a couple of spring gowns until she could get her new autumn clothes, the clothes with which she was to win back Alfred. Now, the hussy had been for some time far from Regina's thoughts, her suspicions had been lulled to rest, not only by Alfred's devotion, but by his naturalness of demeanor. In a sort of gush of tenderness toward him she almost determined that she would do nothing to regain his allegiance; she would only be herself. Then her tidy eye fell upon a piece of paper lying on the carpet between Alfred's chair and the door. She went across the room and picked it up, following the house-wifely instinct which moves nine women out of ten, and glanced at it to see whether it was something to keep or something to throw away. It was only a folded sheet of paper on which was written in a woman's handwriting, 27 Terrisina Road, St. John's Wood, N. W. For a moment Regina was almost too stunned to speak; she stared at the paper. Luckily, Julia had already gone down to that part of the Park called the town to get some flowers with which to deck the house. All the doubts and suspicions of the past came back in great waves, and broke cruelly upon Regina's palpitating heart. There was a hussy! This had been written by the hussy! This was where the hussy dwelt, 27 Terrisina Road, St. John's Wood, N. W. It was far removed from the side of London on which the Park was situate; he had laid his plans carefully and well--or she had. Well, 27 Terrisina Road should not get him or keep him without a struggle; it should be war to the knife. Doubtless this was a little soft-eyed creature young enough to be Regina's child. But Regina would be soft-eyed, Regina would rejuvenate herself, Regina would win all along the line. It was in this spirit that Regina went upstairs and examined her wardrobe. She would leave the house to take care of itself, merely throwing out a few hints as to dinner, and betake herself to town in order to consult the specialists whom she had had in her mind during the last month. She picked out the smartest of the frocks which she had not taken away with her, and, casting off her white cambric wrapper in which she had breakfasted, she began to dress herself with feverishly eager fingers.

Alack and alas! The effect of careering through the fresh country air, tinged as it was with the brine of the ocean, had been to make Regina thoroughly enjoy the lunches by the wayside, and the more elaborate dinners of the evening hour. We all know the effect of good French soup, various kinds of omelettes, in short, of excellent bourgeois cooking, and this effect had stolen upon Regina like a thief in the night, and neither by coaxing nor force could she get herself into the garment in which she desired to travel to town.

"Good heavens!" she exclaimed in a tone of anxiety, "I must have put on stones while I have been away. The old proverb says 'Laugh and grow fat,' and I take it that laughter and happiness have the same effect if one has a tendency that way. What shall I do?"

There was only one thing to be done, and that was to get into one of the despised and discarded gowns in which she had loomed large and important on the French horizon, and take herself in quest of new ones as quickly as possible. Then she remembered that she had sent a little message on the wings of unanimity, a little message which had been signed, "Your broken-hearted Miranda." Surely by now there would be a reply to it. She finished her toilette, hiding as much of her gown as she could by the addition of a large lace cape which she had bought as a bargain in the little French town where she had been so happy, and then she went downstairs and sought for the back numbers of the ladies' periodical to which she had written. They were in their accustomed place, the four numbers which she had not yet seen. She began with the last. "Faded Iras," "White Heather," "White Rose," "Pussy Cat," were the first words which met her eyes. There was no "Broken-hearted Miranda," and she went on to the next number, and there, at the top of the column, was the name she was seeking.

"My poor broken-hearted Miranda," the reply ran, "how grieved and sorry I am for you! Are you sure that your conjectures are correct? I have known wives who made themselves very unhappy on very small grounds--not that I wish to imply that your grounds for uneasiness are small, but are you quite sure? If I were you I would take every means of finding out. With regard to what you tell me of yourself, I can see you, my poor Miranda, in my mind's eye, and I hasten to assure you that, whether you are right or wrong, you will not regret taking yourself in hand in the beauty sense. For your adipose tissue, I would recommend you to try Madame Winifred Polson's little brown tablets. They are wonderful in their effect on stout figures, particularly in reducing bulk below the waist. If you begin them, be sure that you give them a very good trial, and that you carry out her instructions fully and to the very letter. Now, for your complexion, I can advise you no better than to go to Madame Alvara. You needn't be the least nervous of going to her, as it is not a shop, but she has an elegant private house on the best side of Grosvenor Square. You will probably meet three duchesses on the stairs, and may have to wait some time, unless you make an appointment. Place yourself unreservedly in Madame Alvara's hands; she will restore to you the skin of your childhood. For your hair--well, that is difficult. I think you ought to write to me again and tell me what kind of hair you have, whether it is thin or grey, that I may advise you whether to go to a hair specialist or an artiste in _toupes_. Write to me again, my dear Miranda, and pray believe that nothing is too much trouble if I have the reward of knowing that I have helped you to your legitimate end."

Involuntarily Regina put up her hands and passed them over her head. She had let her hair take care of itself--that did not mean that she was grey or that she had a mere whisp; she had thick and luxuriant hair, turned back from her face and done into a simple coil at the turn of the head.

"I will not write to-day," she said to herself; "I will go and see the face specialist and the beauty specialist, and I will pay a visit to the lady of the little brown tablets, and then I will go to my tailor. Something I must have to wear every day. If I get a smart coat and skirt, something loose and _chic_, I can put off the rest of my wardrobe until I have got my figure down to its normal size."

She went into the hall intending to leave a message with the cook for Julia, but the parlor-maid happened to be going through the dining-room to the pantry with a tray of silver things in her hands.

"Oh, Margaret, tell Miss Julia I shall, in all probability, not be in to lunch, and tell her not to wait for me. She will be occupied during the rest of the day."

"Very good, ma'am."

Then Regina sailed down the covered way and got into the omnibus which would carry her to the railway station. What a day of disappointments it was! She found the beauty specialist had not yet returned to town, and there was nobody to take her place. Not that she was unceremoniously told this at the door--oh no; she was shown into a room, and the great lady's secretary informed her that Madame Alvara had been very unwell--she had had such a terribly heavy season--carriages standing a dozen deep at the door all day long--everybody clamoring for Madame's own opinion--and she was so popular, socially.

"Madame will not be back until the end of the month; I can make an appointment for the first week in October."

"Can you recommend me any harmless lotion to begin with?" said Regina.

"Oh no, I should not dare to interfere in Madame's province; I am only the secretary; I arrange appointments, and so on."

"But you have a skin like a rose leaf," said Regina, wistfully.

"Yes, I have to thank Madame Alvara for that. You see, if I were to give you my recipe you might ruin your skin. Oh, every case has quite individual attention and treatment. The staff only work under Madame Alvara's directions. Yes, they are busy, fairly busy, continuing the treatment of cases which were begun last season. No new cases will be taken till Madame Alvara returns."

So Regina had no choice but to make an appointment for the 5th of October, that being the first hour which could be placed at her disposal. She then went off, after disappointment one, to Madame Winifred Polson. She had difficulty in finding the place, and when she did find it, it did not commend itself to her ideas of shrewd common-sense. However, she left a couple of guineas behind her and brought away instead a little box of something which rattled. Then she went and had some lunch--not tea and muffins this time, but a good hot lunch at a famous drapery establishment which she frequently patronized. After that she made some purchases, and then she went in search of an establishment whose advertisements she had noticed in a ladies' paper which she had taken up while waiting for her lunch to be served. "To Ladies," it said. "If you have no lady's maid you cannot possibly care for your own hair as the glory of womanhood should be cared for. Go and consult the ladies who run The Dressing-Room. You can have special treatment for hair that is not quite in health, special brushings for hair that merely needs attention, and can consult with experts as to the most becoming way of wearing your hair."

"That is the place for me," said Regina, taking note of the address. And so, after paying her two guineas to Madame Polson, she next turned her steps toward the street wherein she should find The Dressing-Room.