Names make news. Last week these names made this news:

At the world premiere in London of Charlie Chaplin's Limelight (see CINEMA), one cinemagoer drew almost as much attention as the picture. Seated in the royal box amid frothy net, rich upholstery and white-tied escorts was Princess Margaret, dressed in a fetchingly low-cut crinoline gown and seemingly unaware of raised eyebrows and buzzing tongues.

Black limousines whisked French President Vincent Auriol and his glittering guests from Paris out to the 1,500-acre estate around the presidential chateau at Rambouillet. The party took their places at the butts, waited while beaters waving red & white flags drove 9,000 pheasants into the morning air. Then the firing started. After four sweeps, the shooting party moved on to an artificial lake where white-jacketed gamesmen dragged roped bells across the water, sending about 100 wild ducks aloft. The guns went off again. Some of the high scorers of the day: Prince Bernhard of The Netherlands (132 birds), the Duke of Edinburgh (103), President Auriol (61). Following the morning's activity, lunch was served to the guests, including Queen Juliana, U.S. Ambassador James Dunn, SHAPE'S Matthew B. Ridgway, France's Premier Antoine Pinay. In the early afternoon gamekeepers returned to the morning's shooting grounds with bags of grain for the pheasants that had survived.

In the New York State Supreme Court, Artist Willy Pogany filed a $1,000,000 libel suit against Author Whittaker Chambers and Random House, Inc., publishers of Chambers' bestselling Witness. The charge: Chambers falsely and maliciously described Willy in the book as the brother of Hungary's Communist Big Shot Joseph Pogany. Willy claimed that he is not related to Joseph, never knew him, never had any dealings with him.

Cinemactress Bette Davis, heading for Broadway in her first musical comedy (Two's Company), fainted during a solo on an opening-night tryout in Detroit. Carried from the stage, she returned in a few minutes to resume her part, ad-libbed to an applauding audience: "You can't say I didn't fall for you."

No sooner had he published the first volume--Men at Arms--of a trilogy (see BOOKS) than Novelist Evelyn Waugh unwittingly gave his fans a hint of the subject matter of Vol. II. A personal advertisement in the London Times announced: "Evelyn Waugh seeks detailed information P.O.W. routine from then junior officer taken prisoner unwounded France, 1940; hospitality, expenses and -L-50 ($140) offered to applicant willing to spend two days in near future under interrogation . . ."

Convalescing from three eye operations performed in Holland, Eire's Prime Minister Eamon de Valera celebrated his 70th birthday in a Utrecht hospital. In addition to letters and presents, the Prime Minister received almond cakes in the shape of a 7 and an 0, and a cake (with green icing) in the shape of an unpartitioned Ireland. Invited to cut the cake, De Valera asked: "Why should it be up to me to partition it?" Of the hospital party he said: "Wasn't it a grand idea . . ."

In Johannesburg, where he is United Kingdom information officer, Bestselling Novelist Nicholas (The Cruel Sea) Monsarrat, insured his new manuscript, The

Girl Who Lost Everything, with Lloyds of London for $56,000 (covering most everything except "loss through vermin"), tossed the book to his secretary for typing, took off on a fishing trip.

After spending two months in a San Francisco hospital, Mme. Chiang Kai-shek arrived in New York City to take further treatment for a skin ailment and to visit with her sister, Mme. H. H. Kung, on Long Island.

At Wahn airport near Cologne, U.S. Ambassador George F. Kennan, now recalled from his duties in Russia by request of his Soviet hosts (TIME, Oct. 13), cheerfully greeted his wife and two youngest children, Wendy, 5 months, and Christopher, 2, as they arrived by plane from Moscow. From the airport, the Kennans went on to Bonn, where the ambassador began preparing a report to Washington.

A London publisher announced a new book for its next spring list: Satan in the Suburbs, five short stories by Philosopher Bertrand Russell, 80, the first Russell fiction published under his own name. (One of the stories, The Corsican Ordeal of Miss X, was published anonymously in Go magazine earlier this year.)

After a 26-hour train trip from Paris, Rita Hayworth arrived in Madrid, without husband Aly Khan. Escorted by a group of Spanish playboys, Rita drove to a nearby town to watch Spain's No. I bullfighter, Luis Miguel Dominguin. Dominguin dedicated his bull to Rita ("The most beautiful woman in North America"), and Rita rose to acknowledge the honor ("Good luck to the handsomest man in Spain"). After he had killed his target, Dominguin gallantly presented Rita with the ears and the tail of the bull.

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