Seigneur and Chatelaine

THE CABINET

"It has been said that republics are ungrateful; but you will agree with me that this is not the case. . . . What we sometimes do here, in order to express our appreciation, is to give a man a public dinner and that is a doubtful pleasure nowadays as long as we have to be 'dry.' We all hope that the Secretary will remain in office much longer than this law will last, so that when we do give him a public dinner it will be 'wet.' "

After which quaint reference by Banker James Speyer to a national custom which it is the Treasury Department's function to enforce, Secretary Andrew Mellon heard his signal services to the country acclaimed, and beheld his likeness, brushed in oils by fashionable Painter Philip de Laszlo (who lately painted President and Mrs. Coolidge), presented to the New York Chamber of Commerce, to hang in company with those of his predecessors--including great Alexander Hamilton, clever Albert Gallatin, honest John Sherman. Mr. Speyer spoke in Manhattan, in behalf of 500 Chambermen subscribers to a Mellon portrait fund.

Of the picture in question Painter de Laszlo (who prides himself that his paintings are "subjective" rather than objective) had said:

"This is a picture of a grand seigneur, who loves the fine and the real in art and meets the world with dignity. It is the picture of a man who is true to himself and who will stand unyielding on his own high principles. I had seen him often in his home. It is in a man's home--his real milieu--that he is most himself. The outside world of business cares is far away. In his home I found Mr. Mellon a cultured gentleman, surrounded by the best in art, ancient and modern."

Banker Speyer in continuing his tribute mentioned two items of "indispensable assistance": Mr. Mellon's reduction and reform of income taxes, and the foreign debt settlements. In these matters, the aid Mr. Mellon had had from others and his backing by two presidents, were recognized. Had Banker Speyer thought of it, had the occasion been more appropriate, he might have mentioned another service, of considerable dimensions though of a less tangible nature, that Secretary Mellon has performed in the five years that have elapsed since he left his Pittsburgh home to occupy a spacious and luxurious apartment in Washington--a service in which his sole aid has been a semiofficial personage of unusual bearing and personality, his daughter.

This daughter is Ailsa, now aged 25. She was a small girl when her father found it necessary to divorce her young and beautiful Irish mother (Nora McMullen) in 1910-12. The parents' parting was effected with becoming dignity, and it was arranged that Ailsa and her younger brother Paul were to divide their time equally between father and mother. This they did, at first, but as she grew up, the affection lavished upon Ailsa by her father drew her most closely to him. After schooling at home and abroad and making her debut in Pittsburgh, she became his constant companion and the chatelaine of his sumptuous mansion.

Motherless girls mature swiftly. In Ailsa Mellon there developed a personality that could cope with the intangible problems of sophisticated society--reticence, poise and an air of consciously holding a high social standard. From her mother she inherited beauty, from her father reserve and a habit of doing things thoroughly, especially sportswomanly things such as horseback and golf.

Secretary Mellon had not been in Washington long before those who dealt with him and with his administrative colleagues, found they had also to reckon with Ailsa, not in a political way--for in politics she does not intrude--but as mistress of those social standards which form the background of high politics. Foreigners, particularly, found that for impersonal reasons it was an excellent thing to be recognized by the drawling, perpetually sunburned young woman with a strong chin, unbobbed hair and alarming detachment. So it came about that in all Washington there are no households, the Coolidges' and the Kelloggs' not excepted, in which it is a greater success to be accepted than in Mr. Mellon's.

One morning about a year ago, Secretary Mellon sat alone in his breakfast room. Ailsa had gone up to Baltimore for someone's elaborate wedding festivities. He unfolded his morning paper, twitched the pages, gazed thunderstruck. There screamed a notice that a marriage license had been issued to Senator Bruce's young lawyer-son, David K. Este Bruce, and "Regina" Mellon of Washington. "Regina" was said (erroneously) to be what some of her friends called Ailsa--but the thing seemed preposterous. She was nobody's fool.

Nevertheless, later in the day, a tall, handsome, very much flustered and most apologetic young man, David K. Este Bruce, was ushered in to explain to Mr. Mellon, with such dignity as he could muster, that the licensees were he and Ailsa, that there had been a dare. Later, Ailsa appeared and matters were soon adjusted.

But David K. Este Bruce is a personable young man. He comes from the independent, vigorous Bruce family of Maryland, with an immense zest for variety and interest in life, a zest of a kind which once nearly took him to Abyssinia in a spirit of entertainment. In 1919 Princeton graduated him. He has an overseas record, a record in the Maryland House of Representatives. He has shown at his most recent post of legal expert in the State Department that he did not waste his time at the University of Maryland Law School; that he might even become as keen, learned and intrepid a lawyer as his father. (Although a Democrat, Senator Bruce votes Mr. Mellon's brand of national economics.) Young David is an athlete, a linguist, 28 years old.

So last week it was formally announced, the engagement of Washington's youngest and--perhaps--most unofficially important official hostess. Simultaneously, the State Department announced that there would be a new vice-consul at Rome --David Bruce Jr.