The Bachelor List Read Free Page B

an urgent immediacy. WOMEN TAXPAYERS DEMAND THE VOTE . WILL THE LIBERAL GOVERNMENT GIVE WOMEN TAXPAYERS THE VOTE ?
    “It seems this paper has more on its mind than gossip and fashion,” he observed, tapping a finger against the headline.
    “Oh, that, yes. They're always writing about this suffrage business,” Elizabeth said. “So boring. But every edition has something just like that in a box on the front page. I don't take any notice. Most of us don't.”
    Max frowned.
Just who was responsible for this paper?
Was it a forum for the women troublemakers who were growing daily more intransigent as they pestered the government with their demand for the vote? The rest of the topics in the paper were more to be expected: an article about the American illustrator Charles Dana Gibson and his idealized drawings of the perfect woman, the Gibson girl; a description of a Society wedding and who attended; a list of coming social events. He glanced idly at the Gibson article, blinked, and began to read. He had expected to see earnest advice to follow the prevailing fashion in order to achieve Gibson-girl perfection, instead he found himself reading an intelligent criticism of women's slavish following of fashions that were almost always dictated by men.
    He looked up. “Who writes this?”
    “Oh, no one knows,” Elizabeth said, reaching out eagerly to take back her prize. “That's what makes it so interesting, of course. It's been around for at least ten years, then there was a short period when it didn't appear, but now it's back and it has a lot more in it.”
    She folded the sheets again. “Such a nuisance that one has to buy it now. Before, there were always copies just lying around in the cloakrooms and on hall tables. But it didn't have quite so many interesting things in it then. It was mostly just the boring political stuff. Women voting and that Property Act business. I don't understand any of it. Dear Ambrose takes care of such things.” She gave a little trill of laughter as she tucked the sheets back into her handbag. “Not a suitable subject for ladies.”
    “No, indeed,” Max Ensor agreed with a firm nod. “There's trouble enough in the world without women involving themselves in issues that don't concern them.”
    “Just what dear Ambrose says.” Elizabeth's smile was complacent as she put her hands to her head to check the set of her black taffeta hat from which descended a cascade of white plumes.
    She glanced at the little enameled fob watch pinned to her lapel and exclaimed, “Oh, my goodness me, is that the time? I really must be going. Such a charming tea. Thank you so much, Mr. Ensor.”
    “The pleasure was all mine, Lady Armitage. I trust I shall see you this evening at the Beekmans' soirée. Letitia has commandeered my escort.” He rose and bowed, handing her her gloves.
    “It will be a charming evening, I'm sure,” Elizabeth declared, smoothing her gloves over her fingers. “Everything is so very charming in London at the moment. Don't you find it so?”
    “Uh . . . charming,” he agreed. He remained on his feet until she had billowed away, then called for the bill, reflecting that
charming
had to be the most overworked adjective in a Mayfair lady's vocabulary. Letitia used it to describe everything from her young daughter's hair ribbons to the coals in the fireplace and he'd lost count of the number of times it had dropped from Elizabeth Armitage's lips in the last hour.
    However, he would swear that not one of the Honorable Misses Duncan had used it.
    Women taxpayers demand the vote.
    It would be both interesting and enlightening to discover who was behind that newspaper, he reflected, collecting his hat. The government was doing everything in its power to minimize the influence of the fanatical group of headstrong women, and a few foolish men, who were pressing for women's suffrage. But it was hard to control a movement when it went underground, and the true subversives were notoriously