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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1654-0.txt b/1654-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..30514d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/1654-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10653 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Unsocial Socialist, by George Bernard Shaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An Unsocial Socialist + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1654] +Last Updated: September 21, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST *** + + + + +Produced by Dianne Bean and David Widger + + + + + +AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST + + +by George Bernard Shaw + + + + +CHAPTER I + +In the dusk of an October evening, a sensible looking woman of forty +came out through an oaken door to a broad landing on the first floor of +an old English country-house. A braid of her hair had fallen forward as +if she had been stooping over book or pen; and she stood for a moment +to smooth it, and to gaze contemplatively--not in the least +sentimentally--through the tall, narrow window. The sun was setting, but +its glories were at the other side of the house; for this window +looked eastward, where the landscape of sheepwalks and pasture land was +sobering at the approach of darkness. + +The lady, like one to whom silence and quiet were luxuries, lingered +on the landing for some time. Then she turned towards another door, on +which was inscribed, in white letters, Class Room No. 6. Arrested by a +whispering above, she paused in the doorway, and looked up the stairs +along a broad smooth handrail that swept round in an unbroken curve at +each landing, forming an inclined plane from the top to the bottom of +the house. + +A young voice, apparently mimicking someone, now came from above, +saying, + +“We will take the Etudes de la Velocite next, if you please, ladies.” + +Immediately a girl in a holland dress shot down through space; whirled +round the curve with a fearless centrifugal toss of her ankle; and +vanished into the darkness beneath. She was followed by a stately girl +in green, intently holding her breath as she flew; and also by a large +young woman in black, with her lower lip grasped between her teeth, and +her fine brown eyes protruding with excitement. Her passage created a +miniature tempest which disarranged anew the hair of the lady on the +landing, who waited in breathless alarm until two light shocks and a +thump announced that the aerial voyagers had landed safely in the hall. + +“Oh law!” exclaimed the voice that had spoken before. “Here’s Susan.” + +“It’s a mercy your neck ain’t broken,” replied some palpitating female. +“I’ll tell of you this time, Miss Wylie; indeed I will. And you, too, +Miss Carpenter: I wonder at you not to have more sense at your age and +with your size! Miss Wilson can’t help hearing when you come down with a +thump like that. You shake the whole house.” + +“Oh bother!” said Miss Wylie. “The Lady Abbess takes good care to shut +out all the noise we make. Let us--” + +“Girls,” said the lady above, calling down quietly, but with ominous +distinctness. + +Silence and utter confusion ensued. Then came a reply, in a tone of +honeyed sweetness, from Miss Wylie: + +“Did you call us, DEAR Miss Wilson?” + +“Yes. Come up here, if you please, all three.” + +There was some hesitation among them, each offering the other +precedence. At last they went up slowly, in the order, though not at all +in the manner, of their flying descent; followed Miss Wilson into the +class-room; and stood in a row before her, illumined through three +western windows with a glow of ruddy orange light. Miss Carpenter, the +largest of the three, was red and confused. Her arms hung by her sides, +her fingers twisting the folds of her dress. Miss Gertrude Lindsay, in +pale sea-green, had a small head, delicate complexion, and pearly teeth. +She stood erect, with an expression of cold distaste for reproof of any +sort. The holland dress of the third offender had changed from yellow to +white as she passed from the gray eastern twilight on the staircase into +the warm western glow in the room. Her face had a bright olive tone, and +seemed to have a golden mica in its composition. Her eyes and hair were +hazel-nut color; and her teeth, the upper row of which she displayed +freely, were like fine Portland stone, and sloped outward enough to have +spoilt her mouth, had they not been supported by a rich under lip, and +a finely curved, impudent chin. Her half cajoling, half mocking air, +and her ready smile, were difficult to confront with severity; and Miss +Wilson knew it; for she would not look at her even when attracted by +a convulsive start and an angry side glance from Miss Lindsay, who had +just been indented between the ribs by a finger tip. + +“You are aware that you have broken the rules,” said Miss Wilson +quietly. + +“We didn’t intend to. We really did not,” said the girl in holland, +coaxingly. + +“Pray what was your intention then, Miss Wylie?” + +Miss Wylie unexpectedly treated this as a smart repartee instead of a +rebuke. She sent up a strange little scream, which exploded in a cascade +of laughter. + +“Pray be silent, Agatha,” said Miss Wilson severely. Agatha looked +contrite. Miss Wilson turned hastily to the eldest of the three, and +continued: + +“I am especially surprised at you, Miss Carpenter. Since you have no +desire to keep faith with me by upholding the rules, of which you are +quite old enough to understand the necessity, I shall not trouble you +with reproaches, or appeals to which I am now convinced that you would +not respond,” (here Miss Carpenter, with an inarticulate protest, burst +into tears); “but you should at least think of the danger into which +your juniors are led by your childishness. How should you feel if Agatha +had broken her neck?” + +“Oh!” exclaimed Agatha, putting her hand quickly to her neck. + +“I didn’t think there was any danger,” said Miss Carpenter, struggling +with her tears. “Agatha has done it so oft--oh dear! you have torn me.” + Miss Wylie had pulled at her schoolfellow’s skirt, and pulled too hard. + +“Miss Wylie,” said Miss Wilson, flushing slightly, “I must ask you to +leave the room.” + +“Oh, no,” exclaimed Agatha, clasping her hands in distress. “Please +don’t, dear Miss Wilson. I am so sorry. I beg your pardon.” + +“Since you will not do what I ask, I must go myself,” said Miss Wilson +sternly. “Come with me to my study,” she added to the two other +girls. “If you attempt to follow, Miss Wylie, I shall regard it as an +intrusion.” + +“But I will go away if you wish it. I didn’t mean to diso--” + +“I shall not trouble you now. Come, girls.” + +The three went out; and Miss Wylie, left behind in disgrace, made a +surpassing grimace at Miss Lindsay, who glanced back at her. When she +was alone, her vivacity subsided. She went slowly to the window, and +gazed disparagingly at the landscape. Once, when a sound of voices above +reached her, her eyes brightened, and her ready lip moved; but the +next silent moment she relapsed into moody indifference, which was not +relieved until her two companions, looking very serious, re-entered. + +“Well,” she said gaily, “has moral force been applied? Are you going to +the Recording Angel?” + +“Hush, Agatha,” said Miss Carpenter. “You ought to be ashamed of +yourself.” + +“No, but you ought, you goose. A nice row you have got me into!” + +“It was your own fault. You tore my dress.” + +“Yes, when you were blurting out that I sometimes slide down the +banisters.” + +“Oh!” said Miss Carpenter slowly, as if this reason had not occurred to +her before. “Was that why you pulled me?” + +“Dear me! It has actually dawned upon you. You are a most awfully silly +girl, Jane. What did the Lady Abbess say?” + +Miss Carpenter again gave her tears way, and could not reply. + +“She is disgusted with us, and no wonder,” said Miss Lindsay. + +“She said it was all your fault,” sobbed Miss Carpenter. + +“Well, never mind, dear,” said Agatha soothingly. “Put it in the +Recording Angel.” + +“I won’t write a word in the Recording Angel unless you do so first,” + said Miss Lindsay angrily. “You are more in fault than we are.” + +“Certainly, my dear,” replied Agatha. “A whole page, if you wish.” + +“I b-believe you LIKE writing in the Recording Angel,” said Miss +Carpenter spitefully. + +“Yes, Jane. It is the best fun the place affords.” + +“It may be fun to you,” said Miss Lindsay sharply; “but it is not very +creditable to me, as Miss Wilson said just now, to take a prize in moral +science and then have to write down that I don’t know how to behave +myself. Besides, I do not like to be told that I am ill-bred!” + +Agatha laughed. “What a deep old thing she is! She knows all our +weaknesses, and stabs at us through them. Catch her telling me, or Jane +there, that we are ill-bred!” + +“I don’t understand you,” said Miss Lindsay, haughtily. + +“Of course not. That’s because you don’t know as much moral science as +I, though I never took a prize in it.” + +“You never took a prize in anything,” said Miss Carpenter. + +“And I hope I never shall,” said Agatha. “I would as soon scramble for +hot pennies in the snow, like the street boys, as scramble to see who +can answer most questions. Dr. Watts is enough moral science for me. Now +for the Recording Angel.” + +She went to a shelf and took down a heavy quarto, bound in black +leather, and inscribed, in red letters, MY FAULTS. This she threw +irreverently on a desk, and tossed its pages over until she came to one +only partly covered with manuscript confessions. + +“For a wonder,” she said, “here are two entries that are not mine. Sarah +Gerram! What has she been confessing?” + +“Don’t read it,” said Miss Lindsay quickly. “You know that it is the +most dishonorable thing any of us can do.” + +“Poch! Our little sins are not worth making such a fuss about. I always +like to have my entries read: it makes me feel like an author; and so in +Christian duty I always read other people’s. Listen to poor Sarah’s tale +of guilt. ‘1st October. I am very sorry that I slapped Miss Chambers in +the lavatory this morning, and knocked out one of her teeth. This was +very wicked; but it was coming out by itself; and she has forgiven me +because a new one will come in its place; and she was only pretending +when she said she swallowed it. Sarah Gerram.”’ + +“Little fool!” said Miss Lindsay. “The idea of our having to record in +the same book with brats like that!” + +“Here is a touching revelation. ‘4th October. Helen Plantagenet is +deeply grieved to have to confess that I took the first place in algebra +yesterday unfairly. Miss Lindsay prompted me;’ and--” + +“Oh!” exclaimed Miss Lindsay, reddening. “That is how she thanks me for +prompting her, is it? How dare she confess my faults in the Recording +Angel?” + +“Serves you right for prompting her,” said Miss Carpenter. “She was +always a double-faced cat; and you ought to have known better.” + +“Oh, I assure you it was not for her sake that I did it,” replied Miss +Lindsay. “It was to prevent that Jackson girl from getting first place. +I don’t like Helen Plantagenet; but at least she is a lady.’ + +“Stuff, Gertrude,” said Agatha, with a touch of earnestness. “One would +think, to hear you talk, that your grandmother was a cook. Don’t be such +a snob.” + +“Miss Wylie,” said Gertrude, becoming scarlet: “you are very--oh! oh! +Stop Ag--oh! I will tell Miss--oh!” Agatha had inserted a steely finger +between her ribs, and was tickling her unendurably. + +“Sh-sh-sh,” whispered Miss Carpenter anxiously. “The door is open.” + +“Am I Miss Wylie?” demanded Agatha, relentlessly continuing the torture. +“Am I very--whatever you were going to say? Am I? am I? am I?” + +“No, no,” gasped Gertrude, shrinking into a chair, almost in hysterics. +“You are very unkind, Agatha. You have hurt me.” + +“You deserve it. If you ever get sulky with me again, or call me Miss +Wylie, I will kill you. I will tickle the soles of your feet with a +feather,” (Miss Lindsay shuddered, and hid her feet beneath the chair) +“until your hair turns white. And now, if you are truly repentant, come +and record.” + +“You must record first. It was all your fault.” + +“But I am the youngest,” said Agatha. + +“Well, then,” said Gertrude, afraid to press the point, but determined +not to record first, “let Jane Carpenter begin. She is the eldest.” + +“Oh, of course,” said Jane, with whimpering irony. “Let Jane do all the +nasty things first. I think it’s very hard. You fancy that Jane is a +fool; but she isn’t.” + +“You are certainly not such a fool as you look, Jane,” said Agatha +gravely. “But I will record first, if you like.” + +“No, you shan’t,” cried Jane, snatching the pen from her. “I am the +eldest; and I won’t be put out of my place.” + +She dipped the pen in the ink resolutely, and prepared to write. +Then she paused; considered; looked bewildered; and at last appealed +piteously to Agatha. + +“What shall I write?” she said. “You know how to write things down; and +I don’t.” + +“First put the date,” said Agatha. + +“To be sure,” said Jane, writing it quickly. “I forgot that. Well?” + +“Now write, ‘I am very sorry that Miss Wilson saw me when I slid down +the banisters this evening. Jane Carpenter.’” + +“Is that all?” + +“That’s all: unless you wish to add something of your own composition.” + +“I hope it’s all right,” said Jane, looking suspiciously at Agatha. +“However, there can’t be any harm in it; for it’s the simple truth. +Anyhow, if you are playing one of your jokes on me, you are a nasty mean +thing, and I don’t care. Now, Gertrude, it’s your turn. Please look at +mine, and see whether the spelling is right.” + +“It is not my business to teach you to spell,” said Gertrude, taking the +pen. And, while Jane was murmuring at her churlishness, she wrote in a +bold hand: + +“I have broken the rules by sliding down the banisters to-day with Miss +Carpenter and Miss Wylie. Miss Wylie went first.” + +“You wretch!” exclaimed Agatha, reading over her shoulder. “And your +father is an admiral!” + +“I think it is only fair,” said Miss Lindsay, quailing, but assuming the +tone of a moralist. “It is perfectly true.” + +“All my money was made in trade,” said Agatha; “but I should be ashamed +to save myself by shifting blame to your aristocratic shoulders. You +pitiful thing! Here: give me the pen.” + +“I will strike it out if you wish; but I think--” + +“No: it shall stay there to witness against you. Now see how I confess +my faults.” And she wrote, in a fine, rapid hand: + +“This evening Gertrude Lindsay and Jane Carpenter met me at the top of +the stairs, and said they wanted to slide down the banisters and would +do it if I went first. I told them that it was against the rules, +but they said that did not matter; and as they are older than I am, I +allowed myself to be persuaded, and did.” + +“What do you think of that?” said Agatha, displaying the page. + +They read it, and protested clamorously. + +“It is perfectly true,” said Agatha, solemnly. + +“It’s beastly mean,” said Jane energetically. “The idea of your finding +fault with Gertrude, and then going and being twice as bad yourself! I +never heard of such a thing in my life.” + +“‘Thus bad begins; but worse remains behind,’ as the Standard +Elocutionist says,” said Agatha, adding another sentence to her +confession. + +“But it was all my fault. Also I was rude to Miss Wilson, and refused +to leave the room when she bade me. I was not wilfully wrong except in +sliding down the banisters. I am so fond of a slide that I could not +resist the temptation.” + +“Be warned by me, Agatha,” said Jane impressively. “If you write cheeky +things in that book, you will be expelled.” + +“Indeed!” replied Agatha significantly. “Wait until Miss Wilson sees +what you have written.” + +“Gertrude,” cried Jane, with sudden misgiving, “has she made me write +anything improper? Agatha, do tell me if--” + +Here a gong sounded; and the three girls simultaneously exclaimed +“Grub!” and rushed from the room. + + + +CHAPTER II + +One sunny afternoon, a hansom drove at great speed along Belsize Avenue, +St. John’s Wood, and stopped before a large mansion. A young lady sprang +out; ran up the steps, and rang the bell impatiently. She was of the +olive complexion, with a sharp profile: dark eyes with long lashes; +narrow mouth with delicately sensuous lips; small head, feet, and hands, +with long taper fingers; lithe and very slender figure moving with +serpent-like grace. Oriental taste was displayed in the colors of her +costume, which consisted of a white dress, close-fitting, and printed +with an elaborate china blue pattern; a yellow straw hat covered with +artificial hawthorn and scarlet berries; and tan-colored gloves reaching +beyond the elbow, and decorated with a profusion of gold bangles. + +The door not being opened immediately, she rang again, violently, and +was presently admitted by a maid, who seemed surprised to see her. +Without making any inquiry, she darted upstairs into a drawing-room, +where a matron of good presence, with features of the finest Jewish +type, sat reading. With her was a handsome boy in black velvet, who +said: + +“Mamma, here’s Henrietta!” + +“Arthur,” said the young lady excitedly, “leave the room this instant; +and don’t dare to come back until you get leave.” + +The boy’s countenance fell, and he sulkily went out without a word. + +“Is anything wrong?” said the matron, putting away her book with the +unconcerned resignation of an experienced person who foresees a storm in +a teacup. “Where is Sidney?” + +“Gone! Gone! Deserted me! I--” The young lady’s utterance failed, and +she threw herself upon an ottoman, sobbing with passionate spite. + +“Nonsense! I thought Sidney had more sense. There, Henrietta, don’t be +silly. I suppose you have quarrelled.” + +“No! No!! No!!!” cried Henrietta, stamping on the carpet. “We had not a +word. I have not lost my temper since we were married, mamma; I solemnly +swear I have not. I will kill myself; there is no other way. There’s a +curse on me. I am marked out to be miserable. He--” + +“Tut, tut! What has happened, Henrietta? As you have been married now +nearly six weeks, you can hardly be surprised at a little tiff arising. +You are so excitable! You cannot expect the sky to be always cloudless. +Most likely you are to blame; for Sidney is far more reasonable than +you. Stop crying, and behave like a woman of sense, and I will go to +Sidney and make everything right.” + +“But he’s gone, and I can’t find out where. Oh, what shall I do?” + +“What has happened?” + +Henrietta writhed with impatience. Then, forcing herself to tell her +story, she answered: + +“We arranged on Monday that I should spend two days with Aunt Judith +instead of going with him to Birmingham to that horrid Trade Congress. +We parted on the best of terms. He couldn’t have been more affectionate. +I will kill myself; I don’t care about anything or anybody. And when +I came back on Wednesday he was gone, and there was this letter.” She +produced a letter, and wept more bitterly than before. + +“Let me see it.” + +Henrietta hesitated, but her mother took the letter from her, sat down +near the window, and composed herself to read without the least regard +to her daughter’s vehement distress. The letter ran thus: + +“Monday night. + +“My Dearest: I am off--surfeited with endearment--to live my own life +and do my own work. I could only have prepared you for this by coldness +or neglect, which are wholly impossible to me when the spell of your +presence is upon me. I find that I must fly if I am to save myself. + +“I am afraid that I cannot give you satisfactory and intelligible +reasons for this step. You are a beautiful and luxurious creature: life +is to you full and complete only when it is a carnival of love. My case +is just the reverse. Before three soft speeches have escaped me I rebuke +myself for folly and insincerity. Before a caress has had time to cool, +a strenuous revulsion seizes me: I long to return to my old lonely +ascetic hermit life; to my dry books; my Socialist propagandism; my +voyage of discovery through the wilderness of thought. I married in an +insane fit of belief that I had a share of the natural affection +which carries other men through lifetimes of matrimony. Already I am +undeceived. You are to me the loveliest woman in the world. Well, for +five weeks I have walked and tallied and dallied with the loveliest +woman in the world, and the upshot is that I am flying from her, and am +for a hermit’s cave until I die. Love cannot keep possession of me: all +my strongest powers rise up against it and will not endure it. Forgive +me for writing nonsense that you won’t understand, and do not think too +hardly of me. I have been as good to you as my selfish nature allowed. +Do not seek to disturb me in the obscurity which I desire and deserve. +My solicitor will call on your father to arrange business matters, and +you shall be as happy as wealth and liberty can make you. We shall meet +again--some day. + +“Adieu, my last love, + +“Sidney Trefusis.” + +“Well?” cried Mrs. Trefusis, observing through her tears that her mother +had read the letter and was contemplating it in a daze. + +“Well, certainly!” said Mrs. Jansenius, with emphasis. “Do you think +he is quite sane, Henrietta? Or have you been plaguing him for too much +attention? Men are not willing to give up their whole existence to their +wives, even during the honeymoon.” + +“He pretended that he was never happy out of my presence,” sobbed +Henrietta. “There never was anything so cruel. I often wanted to be by +myself for a change, but I was afraid to hurt his feelings by saying +so. And now he has no feelings. But he must come back to me. Mustn’t he, +mamma?” + +“He ought to. I suppose he has not gone away with anyone?” + +Henrietta sprang up, her cheeks vivid scarlet. “If I thought that I +would pursue him to the end of the earth, and murder her. But no; he is +not like anybody else. He hates me! Everybody hates me! You don’t care +whether I am deserted or not, nor papa, nor anyone in this house.” + +Mrs. Jansenius, still indifferent to her daughter’s agitation, +considered a moment, and then said placidly: + +“You can do nothing until we hear from the solicitor. In the meantime +you may stay with us, if you wish. I did not expect a visit from you so +soon; but your room has not been used since you went away.” + +Mrs. Trefusis ceased crying, chilled by this first intimation that her +father’s house was no longer her home. A more real sense of desolation +came upon her. Under its cold influence she began to collect herself, +and to feel her pride rising like a barrier between her and her mother. + +“I won’t stay long,” she said. “If his solicitor will not tell me where +he is, I will hunt through England for him. I am sorry to trouble you.” + +“Oh, you will be no greater trouble than you have always been,” said +Mrs. Jansenius calmly, not displeased to see that her daughter had taken +the hint. “You had better go and wash your face. People may call, and +I presume you don’t wish to receive them in that plight. If you meet +Arthur on the stairs, please tell him he may come in.” + +Henrietta screwed her lips into a curious pout and withdrew. Arthur then +came in and stood at the window in sullen silence, brooding over his +recent expulsion. Suddenly he exclaimed: “Here’s papa, and it’s not five +o’clock yet!” whereupon his mother sent him away again. + +Mr. Jansenius was a man of imposing presence, not yet in his fiftieth +year, but not far from it. He moved with dignity, bearing himself as if +the contents of his massive brow were precious. His handsome aquiline +nose and keen dark eyes proclaimed his Jewish origin, of which he was +ashamed. Those who did not know this naturally believed that he was +proud of it, and were at a loss to account for his permitting his +children to be educated as Christians. Well instructed in business, +and subject to no emotion outside the love of family, respectability, +comfort, and money, he had maintained the capital inherited from his +father, and made it breed new capital in the usual way. He was a banker, +and his object as such was to intercept and appropriate the immense +saving which the banking system effects, and so, as far as possible, to +leave the rest of the world working just as hard as before banking was +introduced. But as the world would not on these terms have banked at +all, he had to give them some of the saving as an inducement. So they +profited by the saving as well as he, and he had the satisfaction +of being at once a wealthy citizen and a public benefactor, rich in +comforts and easy in conscience. + +He entered the room quickly, and his wife saw that something had vexed +him. + +“Do you know what has happened, Ruth?” he said. + +“Yes. She is upstairs.” + +Mr. Jansenius stared. “Do you mean to say that she has left already?” he +said. “What business has she to come here?” + +“It is natural enough. Where else should she have gone?” + +Mr. Jansenius, who mistrusted his own judgment when it differed from +that of his wife, replied slowly, “Why did she not go to her mother?” + +Mrs. Jansenius, puzzled in her turn, looked at him with cool wonder, and +remarked, “I am her mother, am I not?” + +“I was not aware of it. I am surprised to hear it, Ruth. Have you had a +letter too. I have seen the letter. But what do you mean by telling +me that you do not know I am Henrietta’s mother? Are you trying to be +funny?” + +“Henrietta! Is she here? Is this some fresh trouble?” + +“I don’t know. What are you talking about?” + +“I am talking about Agatha Wylie.” + +“Oh! I was talking about Henrietta.” + +“Well, what about Henrietta?” + +“What about Agatha Wylie?” + +At this Mr. Jansenius became exasperated, and he deemed it best to +relate what Henrietta had told her. When she gave him Trefusis’s letter, +he said, more calmly: “Misfortunes never come singly. Read that,” and +handed her another letter, so that they both began reading at the same +time. + +Mrs. Jansenius read as follows: + +“Alton College, Lyvern. + +“To Mrs. Wylie, Acacia Lodge, Chiswick. + +“Dear Madam: I write with great regret to request that you will at once +withdraw Miss Wylie from Alton College. In an establishment like +this, where restraint upon the liberty of the students is reduced to a +minimum, it is necessary that the small degree of subordination which +is absolutely indispensable be acquiesced in by all without complaint +or delay. Miss Wylie has failed to comply with this condition. She has +declared her wish to leave, and has assumed an attitude towards myself +and my colleagues which we cannot, consistently with our duty to +ourselves and her fellow students, pass over. If Miss Wylie has any +cause to complain of her treatment here, or of the step which she has +compelled us to take, she will doubtless make it known to you. + +“Perhaps you will be so good as to communicate with Miss Wylie’s +guardian, Mr. Jansenius, with whom I shall be happy to make an equitable +arrangement respecting the fees which have been paid in advance for the +current term. + +“I am, dear madam, + +“Yours faithfully, + +“Maria Wilson.” + +“A nice young lady, that!” said Mrs. Jansenius. + +“I do not understand this,” said Mr. Jansenius, reddening as he took in +the purport of his son-in-law’s letter. “I will not submit to it. What +does it mean, Ruth?” + +“I don’t know. Sidney is mad, I think; and his honeymoon has brought +his madness out. But you must not let him throw Henrietta on my hands +again.” + +“Mad! Does he think he can shirk his responsibility to his wife because +she is my daughter? Does he think, because his mother’s father was a +baronet, that he can put Henrietta aside the moment her society palls on +him?” + +“Oh, it’s nothing of that sort. He never thought of us. But I will +make him think of us,” said Mr. Jansenius, raising his voice in great +agitation. “He shall answer for it.” + +Just then Henrietta returned, and saw her father moving excitedly to +and fro, repeating, “He shall answer to me for this. He shall answer for +it.” + +Mrs. Jansenius frowned at her daughter to remain silent, and said +soothingly, “Don’t lose your temper, John.” + +“But I will lose my temper. Insolent hound! Damned scoundrel!” + +“He is not,” whimpered Henrietta, sitting down and taking out her +handkerchief. + +“Oh, come, come!” said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily, “we have had enough +crying. Let us have no more of it.” + +Henrietta sprang up in a passion. “I will say and do as I please,” she +exclaimed. “I am a married woman, and I will receive no orders. And I +will have my husband back again, no matter what he does to hide himself. +Papa, won’t you make him come back to me? I am dying. Promise that you +will make him come back.” + +And, throwing herself upon her father’s bosom, she postponed further +discussion by going into hysterics, and startling the household by her +screams. + + + +CHAPTER III + +One of the professors at Alton College was a Mrs. Miller, an +old-fashioned schoolmistress who did not believe in Miss Wilson’s system +of government by moral force, and carried it out under protest. Though +not ill-natured, she was narrow-minded enough to be in some degree +contemptible, and was consequently prone to suspect others of despising +her. She suspected Agatha in particular, and treated her with disdainful +curtness in such intercourse as they had--it was fortunately little. +Agatha was not hurt by this, for Mrs. Miller was an unsympathetic woman, +who made no friends among the girls, and satisfied her affectionate +impulses by petting a large cat named Gracchus, but generally called +Bacchus by an endearing modification of the harsh initial consonant. + +One evening Mrs. Miller, seated with Miss Wilson in the study, +correcting examination papers, heard in the distance a cry like that +of a cat in distress. She ran to the door and listened. Presently there +arose a prolonged wail, slurring up through two octaves, and subsiding +again. It was a true feline screech, impossible to localize; but it +was interrupted by a sob, a snarl, a fierce spitting, and a scuffling, +coming unmistakably from a room on the floor beneath, in which, at that +hour, the older girls assembled for study. + +“My poor Gracchy!” exclaimed Mrs. Miller, running downstairs as fast as +she could. She found the room unusually quiet. Every girl was deep in +study except Miss Carpenter, who, pretending to pick up a fallen +book, was purple with suppressed laughter and the congestion caused by +stooping. + +“Where is Miss Ward?” demanded Mrs. Miller. + +“Miss Ward has gone for some astronomical diagrams in which we are +interested,” said Agatha, looking up gravely. Just then Miss Ward, +diagrams in hand, entered. + +“Has that cat been in here?” she said, not seeing Mrs. Miller, and +speaking in a tone expressive of antipathy to Gracchus. + +Agatha started and drew up her ankles, as if fearful of having them +bitten. Then, looking apprehensively under the desk, she replied, “There +is no cat here, Miss Ward.” + +“There is one somewhere; I heard it,” said Miss Ward carelessly, +unrolling her diagrams, which she began to explain without further +parley. Mrs. Miller, anxious for her pet, hastened to seek it elsewhere. +In the hall she met one of the housemaids. + +“Susan,” she said, “have you seen Gracchus?” + +“He’s asleep on the hearthrug in your room, ma’am. But I heard him +crying down here a moment ago. I feel sure that another cat has got in, +and that they are fighting.” + +Susan smiled compassionately. “Lor’ bless you, ma’am,” she said, “that +was Miss Wylie. It’s a sort of play-acting that she goes through. There +is the bee on the window-pane, and the soldier up the chimley, and the +cat under the dresser. She does them all like life.” + +“The soldier in the chimney!” repeated Mrs. Miller, shocked. + +“Yes, ma’am. Like as it were a follower that had hid there when he heard +the mistress coming.” + +Mrs. Miller’s face set determinedly. She returned to the study and +related what had just occurred, adding some sarcastic comments on the +efficacy of moral force in maintaining collegiate discipline. Miss +Wilson looked grave; considered for some time; and at last said: “I must +think over this. Would you mind leaving it in my hands for the present?” + +Mrs. Miller said that she did not care in whose hands it remained +provided her own were washed of it, and resumed her work at the papers. +Miss Wilson then, wishing to be alone, went into the empty classroom at +the other side of the landing. She took the Fault Book from its shelf +and sat down before it. Its record closed with the announcement, in +Agatha’s handwriting: + +“Miss Wilson has called me impertinent, and has written to my uncle that +I have refused to obey the rules. I was not impertinent; and I never +refused to obey the rules. So much for Moral Force!” + +Miss Wilson rose vigorously, exclaiming: “I will soon let her +know whether--” She checked herself, and looked round hastily, +superstitiously fancying that Agatha might have stolen into the room +unobserved. Reassured that she was alone, she examined her conscience as +to whether she had done wrong in calling Agatha impertinent, justifying +herself by the reflection that Agatha had, in fact, been impertinent. +Yet she recollected that she had refused to admit this plea on a recent +occasion when Jane Carpenter had advanced it in extenuation of having +called a fellow-student a liar. Had she then been unjust to Jane, or +inconsiderate to Agatha? + +Her casuistry was interrupted by some one softly whistling a theme from +the overture to Masaniello, popular at the college in the form of an +arrangement for six pianofortes and twelve hands. There was only one +student unladylike and musical enough to whistle; and Miss Wilson was +ashamed to find herself growing nervous at the prospect of an encounter +with Agatha, who entered whistling sweetly, but with a lugubrious +countenance. When she saw in whose presence she stood, she begged pardon +politely, and was about to withdraw, when Miss Wilson, summoning all her +Judgment and tact, and hoping that they would--contrary to their custom +in emergencies--respond to the summons, said: + +“Agatha, come here. I want to speak to you.” + +Agatha closed her lips, drew in a long breath through her nostrils, and +marched to within a few feet of Miss Wilson, where she halted with her +hands clasped before her. + +“Sit down.” + +Agatha sat down with a single movement, like a doll. + +“I don’t understand that, Agatha,” said Miss Wilson, pointing to the +entry in the Recording Angel. “What does it mean?” + +“I am unfairly treated,” said Agatha, with signs of agitation. + +“In what way?” + +“In every way. I am expected to be something more than mortal. Everyone +else is encouraged to complain, and to be weak and silly. But I must +have no feeling. I must be always in the right. Everyone else may be +home-sick, or huffed, or in low spirits. I must have no nerves, and must +keep others laughing all day long. Everyone else may sulk when a word +of reproach is addressed to them, and may make the professors afraid to +find fault with them. I have to bear with the insults of teachers who +have less self-control than I, a girl of seventeen! and must coax +them out of the difficulties they make for themselves by their own ill +temper.” + +“But, Agatha--” + +“Oh, I know I am talking nonsense, Miss Wilson; but can you expect me to +be always sensible--to be infallible?” + +“Yes, Agatha; I do not think it is too much to expect you to be always +sensible; and--” + +“Then you have neither sense nor sympathy yourself,” said Agatha. + +There was an awful pause. Neither could have told how long it lasted. +Then Agatha, feeling that she must do or say something desperate, or +else fly, made a distracted gesture and ran out of the room. + +She rejoined her companions in the great hall of the mansion, where +they were assembled after study for “recreation,” a noisy process which +always set in spontaneously when the professors withdrew. She usually +sat with her two favorite associates on a high window seat near the +hearth. That place was now occupied by a little girl with flaxen hair, +whom Agatha, regardless of moral force, lifted by the shoulders and +deposited on the floor. Then she sat down and said: + +“Oh, such a piece of news!” + +Miss Carpenter opened her eyes eagerly. Gertrude Lindsay affected +indifference. + +“Someone is going to be expelled,” said Agatha. + +“Expelled! Who?” + +“You will know soon enough, Jane,” replied Agatha, suddenly grave. “It +is someone who made an impudent entry in the Recording Angel.” + +Fear stole upon Jane, and she became very red. “Agatha,” she said, “it +was you who told me what to write. You know you did, and you can’t deny +it.” + +“I can’t deny it, can’t I? I am ready to swear that I never dictated a +word to you in my life.” + +“Gertrude knows you did,” exclaimed Jane, appalled, and almost in tears. + +“There,” said Agatha, petting her as if she were a vast baby. “It shall +not be expelled, so it shan’t. Have you seen the Recording Angel lately, +either of you?” + +“Not since our last entry,” said Gertrude. + +“Chips,” said Agatha, calling to the flaxen-haired child, “go upstairs +to No. 6, and, if Miss Wilson isn’t there, fetch me the Recording +Angel.” + +The little girl grumbled inarticulately and did not stir. + +“Chips,” resumed Agatha, “did you ever wish that you had never been +born?” + +“Why don’t you go yourself?” said the child pettishly, but evidently +alarmed. + +“Because,” continued Agatha, ignoring the question, “you shall wish +yourself dead and buried under the blackest flag in the coal cellar if +you don’t bring me the book before I count sixteen. One--two--” + +“Go at once and do as you are told, you disagreeable little thing,” said +Gertrude sharply. “How dare you be so disobliging?” + +“--nine--ten--eleven--” pursued Agatha. + +The child quailed, went out, and presently returned, hugging the +Recording Angel in her arms. + +“You are a good little darling--when your better qualities are +brought out by a judicious application of moral force,” said Agatha, +good-humoredly. “Remind me to save the raisins out of my pudding for you +to-morrow. Now, Jane, you shall see the entry for which the best-hearted +girl in the college is to be expelled. Voila!” + +The two girls read and were awestruck; Jane opening her mouth and +gasping, Gertrude closing hers and looking very serious. + +“Do you mean to say that you had the dreadful cheek to let the Lady +Abbess see that?” said Jane. + +“Pooh! she would have forgiven that. You should have heard what I said +to her! She fainted three times.” + +“That’s a story,” said Gertrude gravely. + +“I beg your pardon,” said Agatha, swiftly grasping Gertrude’s knee. + +“Nothing,” cried Gertrude, flinching hysterically. “Don’t, Agatha.” + +“How many times did Miss Wilson faint?” + +“Three times. I will scream, Agatha; I will indeed.” + +“Three times, as you say. And I wonder that a girl brought up as +you have been, by moral force, should be capable of repeating such +a falsehood. But we had an awful row, really and truly. She lost her +temper. Fortunately, I never lose mine.” + +“Well, I’m browed!” exclaimed Jane incredulously. “I like that.” + +“For a girl of county family, you are inexcusably vulgar, Jane. I don’t +know what I said; but she will never forgive me for profaning her pet +book. I shall be expelled as certainly as I am sitting here.” + +“And do you mean to say that you are going away?” said Jane, faltering +as she began to realize the consequences. + +“I do. And what is to become of you when I am not here to get you out +of your scrapes, or of Gertrude without me to check her inveterate +snobbishness, is more than I can foresee.” + +“I am not snobbish,” said Gertrude, “although I do not choose to make +friends with everyone. But I never objected to you, Agatha.” + +“No; I should like to catch you at it. Hallo, Jane!” (who had suddenly +burst into tears): “what’s the matter? I trust you are not permitting +yourself to take the liberty of crying for me.” + +“Indeed,” sobbed Jane indignantly, “I know that I am a f--fool for my +pains. You have no heart.” + +“You certainly are a f--fool, as you aptly express it,” said Agatha, +passing her arm round Jane, and disregarding an angry attempt to shake +it off; “but if I had any heart it would be touched by this proof of +your attachment.” + +“I never said you had no heart,” protested Jane; “but I hate when you +speak like a book.” + +“You hate when I speak like a book, do you? My dear, silly old Jane! I +shall miss you greatly.” + +“Yes, I dare say,” said Jane, with tearful sarcasm. “At least my snoring +will never keep you awake again.” + +“You don’t snore, Jane. We have been in a conspiracy to make you believe +that you do, that’s all. Isn’t it good of me to tell you?” + +Jane was overcome by this revelation. After a long pause, she said with +deep conviction, “I always knew that I didn’t. Oh, the way you kept it +up! I solemnly declare that from this time forth I will believe nobody.” + +“Well, and what do you think of it all?” said Agatha, transferring her +attention to Gertrude, who was very grave. + +“I think--I am now speaking seriously, Agatha--I think you are in the +wrong.” + +“Why do you think that, pray?” demanded Agatha, a little roused. + +“You must be, or Miss Wilson would not be angry with you. Of course, +according to your own account, you are always in the right, and everyone +else is always wrong; but you shouldn’t have written that in the book. +You know I speak as your friend.” + +“And pray what does your wretched little soul know of my motives and +feelings?” + +“It is easy enough to understand you,” retorted Gertrude, nettled. +“Self-conceit is not so uncommon that one need be at a loss to recognize +it. And mind, Agatha Wylie,” she continued, as if goaded by some +unbearable reminiscence, “if you are really going, I don’t care whether +we part friends or not. I have not forgotten the day when you called me +a spiteful cat.” + +“I have repented,” said Agatha, unmoved. “One day I sat down and watched +Bacchus seated on the hearthrug, with his moony eyes looking into space +so thoughtfully and patiently that I apologized for comparing you to +him. If I were to call him a spiteful cat he would only not believe me.” + +“Because he is a cat,” said Jane, with the giggle which was seldom far +behind her tears. + +“No; but because he is not spiteful. Gertrude keeps a recording angel +inside her little head, and it is so full of other people’s faults, +written in large hand and read through a magnifying glass, that there is +no room to enter her own.” + +“You are very poetic,” said Gertrude; “but I understand what you mean, +and shall not forget it.” + +“You ungrateful wretch,” exclaimed Agatha, turning upon her so suddenly +and imperiously that she involuntarily shrank aside: “how often, when +you have tried to be insolent and false with me, have I not driven away +your bad angel--by tickling you? Had you a friend in the college, except +half-a-dozen toadies, until I came? And now, because I have sometimes, +for your own good, shown you your faults, you bear malice against me, +and say that you don’t care whether we part friends or not!” + +“I didn’t say so.” + +“Oh, Gertrude, you know you did,” said Jane. + +“You seem to think that I have no conscience,” said Gertrude +querulously. + +“I wish you hadn’t,” said Agatha. “Look at me! I have no conscience, and +see how much pleasanter I am!” + +“You care for no one but yourself,” said Gertrude. “You never think that +other people have feelings too. No one ever considers me.” + +“Oh, I like to hear you talk,” cried Jane ironically. “You are +considered a great deal more than is good for you; and the more you are +considered the more you want to be considered.” + +“As if,” declaimed Agatha theatrically, “increase of appetite did grow +by what it fed on. Shakespeare!” + +“Bother Shakespeare,” said Jane, impetuously, “--old fool that expects +credit for saying things that everybody knows! But if you complain +of not being considered, Gertrude, how would you like to be me, whom +everybody sets down as a fool? But I am not such a fool as--” + +“As you look,” interposed Agatha. “I have told you so scores of times, +Jane; and I am glad that you have adopted my opinion at last. Which +would you rather be, a greater fool than y--” + +“Oh, shut up,” said Jane, impatiently; “you have asked me that twice +this week already.” + +The three were silent for some seconds after this: Agatha meditating, +Gertrude moody, Jane vacant and restless. At last Agatha said: + +“And are you two also smarting under a sense of the inconsiderateness +and selfishness of the rest of the world--both misunderstood--everything +expected from you, and no allowances made for you?” + +“I don’t know what you mean by both of us,” said Gertrude coldly. + +“Neither do I,” said Jane angrily. “That is just the way people treat +me. You may laugh, Agatha; and she may turn up her nose as much as she +likes; you know it’s true. But the idea of Gertrude wanting to make out +that she isn’t considered is nothing but sentimentality, and vanity, and +nonsense.” + +“You are exceedingly rude, Miss Carpenter,” said Gertrude. + +“My manners are as good as yours, and perhaps better,” retorted Jane. +“My family is as good, anyhow.” + +“Children, children,” said Agatha, admonitorily, “do not forget that you +are sworn friends.” + +“We didn’t swear,” said Jane. “We were to have been three sworn friends, +and Gertrude and I were willing, but you wouldn’t swear, and so the +bargain was cried off.” + +“Just so,” said Agatha; “and the result is that I spend all my time in +keeping peace between you. And now, to go back to our subject, may I ask +whether it has ever occurred to you that no one ever considers me?” + +“I suppose you think that very funny. You take good care to make +yourself considered,” sneered Jane. + +“You cannot say that I do not consider you,” said Gertrude +reproachfully. + +“Not when I tickle you, dear.” + +“I consider you, and I am not ticklesome,” said Jane tenderly. + +“Indeed! Let me try,” said Agatha, slipping her arm about Jane’s ample +waist, and eliciting a piercing combination of laugh and scream from +her. + +“Sh--sh,” whispered Gertrude quickly. “Don’t you see the Lady Abbess?” + +Miss Wilson had just entered the room. Agatha, without appearing to be +aware of her presence, stealthily withdrew her arm, and said aloud: + +“How can you make such a noise, Jane? You will disturb the whole house.” + +Jane reddened with indignation, but had to remain silent, for the eyes +of the principal were upon her. Miss Wilson had her bonnet on. She +announced that she was going to walk to Lyvern, the nearest village. Did +any of the sixth form young ladies wish to accompany her? + +Agatha jumped from her seat at once, and Jane smothered a laugh. + +“Miss Wilson said the sixth form, Miss Wylie,” said Miss Ward, who had +entered also. “You are not in the sixth form.” + +“No,” said Agatha sweetly, “but I want to go, if I may.” + +Miss Wilson looked round. The sixth form consisted of four studious +young ladies, whose goal in life for the present was an examination by +one of the Universities, or, as the college phrase was, “the Cambridge +Local.” None of them responded. + +“Fifth form, then,” said Miss Wilson. + +Jane, Gertrude, and four others rose and stood with Agatha. + +“Very well,” said Miss Wilson. “Do not be long dressing.” + +They left the room quietly, and dashed at the staircase the moment they +were out of sight. Agatha, though void of emulation for the Cambridge +Local, always competed with ardor for the honor of being first up or +down stairs. + +They soon returned, clad for walking, and left the college in +procession, two by two, Jane and Agatha leading, Gertrude and Miss +Wilson coming last. The road to Lyvern lay through acres of pasture +land, formerly arable, now abandoned to cattle, which made more money +for the landlord than the men whom they had displaced. Miss Wilson’s +young ladies, being instructed in economics, knew that this proved that +the land was being used to produce what was most wanted from it; and if +all the advantage went to the landlord, that was but natural, as he was +the chief gentleman in the neighborhood. Still the arrangement had its +disagreeable side; for it involved a great many cows, which made them +afraid to cross the fields; a great many tramps, who made them afraid to +walk the roads; and a scarcity of gentlemen subjects for the maiden art +of fascination. + +The sky was cloudy. Agatha, reckless of dusty stockings, waded through +the heaps of fallen leaves with the delight of a child paddling in the +sea; Gertrude picked her steps carefully, and the rest tramped along, +chatting subduedly, occasionally making some scientific or philosophical +remark in a louder tone, in order that Miss Wilson might overhear +and give them due credit. Save a herdsman, who seemed to have caught +something of the nature and expression of the beasts he tended, they +met no one until they approached the village, where, on the brow of an +acclivity, masculine humanity appeared in the shape of two curates: one +tall, thin, close-shaven, with a book under his arm, and his neck craned +forward; the other middle-sized, robust, upright, and aggressive, with +short black whiskers, and an air of protest against such notions as that +a clergyman may not marry, hunt, play cricket, or share the sports +of honest laymen. The shaven one was Mr. Josephs, his companion Mr. +Fairholme. Obvious scriptural perversions of this brace of names had +been introduced by Agatha. + +“Here come Pharaoh and Joseph,” she said to Jane. “Joseph will blush +when you look at him. Pharaoh won’t blush until he passes Gertrude, so +we shall lose that.” + +“Josephs, indeed!” said Jane scornfully. + +“He loves you, Jane. Thin persons like a fine armful of a woman. +Pharaoh, who is a cad, likes blue blood on the same principle of the +attraction of opposites. That is why he is captivated by Gertrude’s +aristocratic air.” + +“If he only knew how she despises him!” + +“He is too vain to suspect it. Besides, Gertrude despises everyone, +even us. Or, rather, she doesn’t despise anyone in particular, but is +contemptuous by nature, just as you are stout.” + +“Me! I had rather be stout than stuck-up. Ought we to bow?” + +“I will, certainly. I want to make Pharoah blush, if I can.” + +The two parsons had been simulating an interest in the cloudy firmament +as an excuse for not looking at the girls until close at hand. Jane sent +an eyeflash at Josephs with a skill which proved her favorite assertion +that she was not so stupid as people thought. He blushed and took off +his soft, low-crowned felt hat. Fairholme saluted very solemnly, for +Agatha bowed to him with marked seriousness. But when his gravity and +his stiff silk hat were at their highest point she darted a mocking +smile at him, and he too blushed, all the deeper because he was enraged +with himself for doing so. + +“Did you ever see such a pair of fools?” whispered Jane, giggling. + +“They cannot help their sex. They say women are fools, and so they are; +but thank Heaven they are not quite so bad as men! I should like to look +back and see Pharaoh passing Gertrude; but if he saw me he would think I +was admiring him; and he is conceited enough already without that.” + +The two curates became redder and redder as they passed the column of +young ladies. Miss Lindsay would not look to their side of the road, and +Miss Wilson’s nod and smile were not quite sincere. She never spoke to +curates, and kept up no more intercourse with the vicar than she could +not avoid. He suspected her of being an infidel, though neither he nor +any other mortal in Lyvern had ever heard a word from her on the subject +of her religious opinions. But he knew that “moral science” was taught +secularly at the college; and he felt that where morals were made +a department of science the demand for religion must fall off +proportionately. + +“What a life to lead and what a place to live in!” exclaimed Agatha. “We +meet two creatures, more like suits of black than men; and that is an +incident--a startling incident--in our existence!” + +“I think they’re awful fun,” said Jane, “except that Josephs has such +large ears.” + +The girls now came to a place where the road dipped through a plantation +of sombre sycamore and horsechestnut trees. As they passed down into +it, a little wind sprang up, the fallen leaves stirred, and the branches +heaved a long, rustling sigh. + +“I hate this bit of road,” said Jane, hurrying on. “It’s just the sort +of place that people get robbed and murdered in.” + +“It is not such a bad place to shelter in if we get caught in the rain, +as I expect we shall before we get back,” said Agatha, feeling the +fitful breeze strike ominously on her cheek. “A nice pickle I shall be +in with these light shoes on! I wish I had put on my strong boots. If it +rains much I will go into the old chalet.” + +“Miss Wilson won’t let you. It’s trespassing.” + +“What matter! Nobody lives in it, and the gate is off its hinges. I only +want to stand under the veranda--not to break into the wretched place. +Besides, the landlord knows Miss Wilson; he won’t mind. There’s a drop.” + +Miss Carpenter looked up, and immediately received a heavy raindrop in +her eye. + +“Oh!” she cried. “It’s pouring. We shall be drenched.” + +Agatha stopped, and the column broke into a group about her. + +“Miss Wilson,” she said, “it is going to rain in torrents, and Jane and +I have only our shoes on.” + +Miss Wilson paused to consider the situation. Someone suggested that if +they hurried on they might reach Lyvern before the rain came down. + +“More than a mile,” said Agatha scornfully, “and the rain coming down +already!” + +Someone else suggested returning to the college. + +“More than two miles,” said Agatha. “We should be drowned.” + +“There is nothing for it but to wait here under the trees,” said Miss +Wilson. + +“The branches are very bare,” said Gertrude anxiously. “If it should +come down heavily they will drip worse than the rain itself.” + +“Much worse,” said Agatha. “I think we had better get under the veranda +of the old chalet. It is not half a minute’s walk from here.” + +“But we have no right--” Here the sky darkened threateningly. Miss +Wilson checked herself and said, “I suppose it is still empty.” + +“Of course,” replied Agatha, impatient to be moving. “It is almost a +ruin.” + +“Then let us go there, by all means,” said Miss Wilson, not disposed to +stand on trifles at the risk of a bad cold. + +They hurried on, and came presently to a green hill by the wayside. On +the slope was a dilapidated Swiss cottage, surrounded by a veranda on +slender wooden pillars, about which clung a few tendrils of withered +creeper, their stray ends still swinging from the recent wind, now +momentarily hushed as if listening for the coming of the rain. Access +from the roadway was by a rough wooden gate in the hedge. To the +surprise of Agatha, who had last seen this gate off its hinges and only +attached to the post by a rusty chain and padlock, it was now rehung and +fastened by a new hasp. The weather admitting of no delay to consider +these repairs, she opened the gate and hastened up the slope, followed +by the troop of girls. Their ascent ended with a rush, for the rain +suddenly came down in torrents. + +When they were safe under the veranda, panting, laughing, grumbling, or +congratulating themselves on having been so close to a place of shelter, +Miss Wilson observed, with some uneasiness, a spade--new, like the hasp +of the gate--sticking upright in a patch of ground that someone had +evidently been digging lately. She was about to comment on this sign +of habitation, when the door of the chalet was flung open, and Jane +screamed as a man darted out to the spade, which he was about to carry +in out of the wet, when he perceived the company under the veranda, and +stood still in amazement. He was a young laborer with a reddish-brown +beard of a week’s growth. He wore corduroy trousers and a linen-sleeved +corduroy vest; both, like the hasp and spade, new. A coarse blue shirt, +with a vulgar red-and-orange neckerchief, also new, completed his dress; +and, to shield himself from the rain, he held up a silk umbrella with +a silver-mounted ebony handle, which he seemed unlikely to have come by +honestly. Miss Wilson felt like a boy caught robbing an orchard, but she +put a bold face on the matter and said: + +“Will you allow us to take shelter here until the rain is over?” + +“For certain, your ladyship,” he replied, respectfully applying the +spade handle to his hair, which was combed down to his eyebrows. +“Your ladyship does me proud to take refuge from the onclemency of the +yallovrments beneath my ‘umble rooftree.” His accent was barbarous; and +he, like a low comedian, seemed to relish its vulgarity. As he spoke he +came in among them for shelter, and propped his spade against the wall +of the chalet, kicking the soil from his hobnailed blucher boots, which +were new. + +“I came out, honored lady,” he resumed, much at his ease, “to house my +spade, whereby I earn my living. What the pen is to the poet, such is +the spade to the working man.” He took the kerchief from his neck, wiped +his temples as if the sweat of honest toil were there, and calmly tied +it on again. + +“If you’ll ‘scuse a remark from a common man,” he observed, “your +ladyship has a fine family of daughters.” + +“They are not my daughters,” said Miss Wilson, rather shortly. + +“Sisters, mebbe?” + +“No.” + +“I thought they mout be, acause I have a sister myself. Not that I would +make bold for to dror comparisons, even in my own mind, for she’s only a +common woman--as common a one as ever you see. But few women rise above +the common. Last Sunday, in yon village church, I heard the minister +read out that one man in a thousand had he found, ‘but one woman in all +these,’ he says, ‘have I not found,’ and I thinks to myself, ‘Right you +are!’ But I warrant he never met your ladyship.” + +A laugh, thinly disguised as a cough, escaped from Miss Carpenter. + +“Young lady a-ketchin’ cold, I’m afeerd,” he said, with respectful +solicitude. + +“Do you think the rain will last long?” said Agatha politely. + +The man examined the sky with a weather-wise air for some moments. Then +he turned to Agatha, and replied humbly: “The Lord only knows, Miss. It +is not for a common man like me to say.” + +Silence ensued, during which Agatha, furtively scrutinizing the tenant +of the chalet, noticed that his face and neck were cleaner and less +sunburnt than those of the ordinary toilers of Lyvern. His hands +were hidden by large gardening gloves stained with coal dust. Lyvern +laborers, as a rule, had little objection to soil their hands; they +never wore gloves. Still, she thought, there was no reason why an +eccentric workman, insufferably talkative, and capable of an allusion to +the pen of the poet, should not indulge himself with cheap gloves. But +then the silk, silvermounted umbrella-- + +“The young lady’s hi,” he said suddenly, holding out the umbrella, “is +fixed on this here. I am well aware that it is not for the lowest of the +low to carry a gentleman’s brolly, and I ask your ladyship’s pardon +for the liberty. I come by it accidental-like, and should be glad of a +reasonable offer from any gentleman in want of a honest article.” + +As he spoke two gentlemen, much in want of the article, as their +clinging wet coats showed, ran through the gateway and made for the +chalet. Fairholme arrived first, exclaiming: “Fearful shower!” and +briskly turned his back to the ladies in order to stand at the edge +of the veranda and shake the water out of his hat. Josephs came next, +shrinking from the damp contact of his own garments. He cringed to Miss +Wilson, and hoped that she had escaped a wetting. + +“So far I have,” she replied. “The question is, how are we to get home?” + +“Oh, it’s only a shower,” said Josephs, looking up cheerfully at the +unbroken curtain of cloud. “It will clear up presently.” + +“It ain’t for a common man to set up his opinion again’ a gentleman wot +have profesh’nal knowledge of the heavens, as one may say,” said the +man, “but I would ‘umbly offer to bet my umbrellar to his wideawake that +it don’t cease raining this side of seven o’clock.” + +“That man lives here,” whispered Miss Wilson, “and I suppose he wants to +get rid of us.” + +“H’m!” said Fairholme. Then, turning to the strange laborer with the air +of a person not to be trifled with, he raised his voice, and said: “You +live here, do you, my man?” + +“I do, sir, by your good leave, if I may make so bold.” + +“What’s your name?” + +“Jeff Smilash, sir, at your service.” + +“Where do you come from?” + +“Brixtonbury, sir.” + +“Brixtonbury! Where’s that?” + +“Well, sir, I don’t rightly know. If a gentleman like you, knowing +jography and such, can’t tell, how can I?” + +“You ought to know where you were born, man. Haven’t you got common +sense?” + +“Where could such a one as me get common sense, sir? Besides, I was only +a foundling. Mebbe I warn’s born at all.” + +“Did I see you at church last Sunday?” + +“No, sir. I only come o’ Wensday.” + +“Well, let me see you there next Sunday,” said Fairholme shortly, +turning away from him. + +Miss Wilson looked at the weather, at Josephs, who was conversing with +Jane, and finally at Smilash, who knuckled his forehead without waiting +to be addressed. + +“Have you a boy whom you can send to Lyvern to get us a conveyance--a +carriage? I will give him a shilling for his trouble.” + +“A shilling!” said Smilash joyfully. “Your ladyship is a noble lady. Two +four-wheeled cabs. There’s eight on you.” + +“There is only one cab in Lyvern,” said Miss Wilson. “Take this card +to Mr. Marsh, the jotmaster, and tell him the predicament we are in. He +will send vehicles.” + +Smilash took the card and read it at a glance. He then went into the +chalet. Reappearing presently in a sou’wester and oilskins, he ran off +through the rain and vaulted over the gate with ridiculous elegance. +No sooner had he vanished than, as often happens to remarkable men, he +became the subject of conversation. + +“A decent workman,” said Josephs. “A well-mannered man, considering his +class.” + +“A born fool, though,” said Fairholme. + +“Or a rogue,” said Agatha, emphasizing the suggestion by a glitter of +her eyes and teeth, whilst her schoolfellows, rather disapproving of her +freedom, stood stiffly dumb. “He told Miss Wilson that he had a sister, +and that he had been to church last Sunday, and he has just told you +that he is a foundling, and that he only came last Wednesday. His accent +is put on, and he can read, and I don’t believe he is a workman at all. +Perhaps he is a burglar, come down to steal the college plate.” + +“Agatha,” said Miss Wilson gravely, “you must be very careful how you +say things of that kind.” + +“But it is so obvious. His explanation about the umbrella was made up +to disarm suspicion. He handled it and leaned on it in a way that showed +how much more familiar it was to him than that new spade he was so +anxious about. And all his clothes are new.” + +“True,” said Fairholme, “but there is not much in all that. Workmen +nowadays ape gentlemen in everything. However, I will keep an eye on +him.” + +“Oh, thank you so much,” said Agatha. Fairholme, suspecting mockery, +frowned, and Miss Wilson looked severely at the mocker. Little more was +said, except as to the chances--manifestly small--of the rain ceasing, +until the tops of a cab, a decayed mourning coach, and three dripping +hats were seen over the hedge. Smilash sat on the box of the coach, +beside the driver. When it stopped, he alighted, re-entered the chalet +without speaking, came out with the umbrella, spread it above Miss +Wilson’s head, and said: + +“Now, if your ladyship will come with me, I will see you dry into the +stray, and then I’ll bring your honored nieces one by one.” + +“I shall come last,” said Miss Wilson, irritated by his assumption that +the party was a family one. “Gertrude, you had better go first.” + +“Allow me,” said Fairholme, stepping forward, and attempting to take the +umbrella. + +“Thank you, I shall not trouble you,” she said frostily, and tripped +away over the oozing field with Smilash, who held the umbrella over her +with ostentatious solicitude. In the same manner he led the rest to the +vehicles, in which they packed themselves with some difficulty. Agatha, +who came last but one, gave him threepence. + +“You have a noble ‘art and an expressive hi, Miss,” he said, apparently +much moved. “Blessings on both! Blessings on both!” + +He went back for Jane, who slipped on the wet grass and fell. He had to +put forth his strength as he helped her to rise. “Hope you ain’t sopped +up much of the rainfall, Miss,” he said. “You are a fine young lady for +your age. Nigh on twelve stone, I should think.” + +She reddened and hurried to the cab, where Agatha was. But it was full; +and Jane, much against her will, had to get into the coach, considerably +diminishing the space left for Miss Wilson, to whom Smilash had +returned. + +“Now, dear lady,” he said, “take care you don’t slip. Come along.” + +Miss Wilson, ignoring the invitation, took a shilling from her purse. + +“No, lady,” said Smilash with a virtuous air. “I am an honest man and +have never seen the inside of a jail except four times, and only twice +for stealing. Your youngest daughter--her with the expressive hi--have +paid me far beyond what is proper.” + +“I have told you that these young ladies are not my daughters,” said +Miss Wilson sharply. “Why do you not listen to what is said to you?” + +“Don’t be too hard on a common man, lady,” said Smilash submissively. +“The young lady have just given me three ‘arf-crowns.” + +“Three half-crowns!” exclaimed Miss Wilson, angered at such +extravagance. + +“Bless her innocence, she don’t know what is proper to give to a low +sort like me! But I will not rob the young lady. ‘Arf-a-crown is no more +nor is fair for the job, and arf-a-crown will I keep, if agreeable to +your noble ladyship. But I give you back the five bob in trust for her. +Have you ever noticed her expressive hi?” + +“Nonsense, sir. You had better keep the money now that you have got it.” + +“Wot! Sell for five bob the high opinion your ladyship has of me! No, +dear lady; not likely. My father’s very last words to me was--” + +“You said just now that you were a foundling,” said Fairholme. “What are +we to believe? Eh?” + +“So I were, sir; but by mother’s side alone. Her ladyship will please to +take back the money, for keep it I will not. I am of the lower orders, +and therefore not a man of my word; but when I do stick to it, I stick +like wax.” + +“Take it,” said Fairholme to Miss Wilson. “Take it, of course. Seven and +sixpence is a ridiculous sum to give him for what he has done. It would +only set him drinking.” + +“His reverence says true, lady. The one ‘arfcrown will keep me +comfortably tight until Sunday morning; and more I do not desire.” + +“Just a little less of your tongue, my man,” said Fairholme, taking +the two coins from him and handing them to Miss Wilson, who bade the +clergymen good afternoon, and went to the coach under the umbrella. + +“If your ladyship should want a handy man to do an odd job up at the +college I hope you will remember me,” Smilash said as they went down the +slope. + +“Oh, you know who I am, do you?” said Miss Wilson drily. + +“All the country knows you, Miss, and worships you. I have few equals as +a coiner, and if you should require a medal struck to give away for good +behavior or the like, I think I could strike one to your satisfaction. +And if your ladyship should want a trifle of smuggled lace--” + +“You had better be careful or you will get into trouble, I think,” said +Miss Wilson sternly. “Tell him to drive on.” + +The vehicles started, and Smilash took the liberty of waving his hat +after them. Then he returned to the chalet, left the umbrella within, +came out again, locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and walked +off through the rain across the hill without taking the least notice of +the astonished parsons. + +In the meantime Miss Wilson, unable to contain her annoyance at Agatha’s +extravagance, spoke of it to the girls who shared the coach with her. +But Jane declared that Agatha only possessed threepence in the world, +and therefore could not possibly have given the man thirty times that +sum. When they reached the college, Agatha, confronted with Miss Wilson, +opened her eyes in wonder, and exclaimed, laughing: “I only gave him +threepence. He has sent me a present of four and ninepence!” + + + +CHAPTER IV + +Saturday at Alton College, nominally a half holiday, was really a whole +one. Classes in gymnastics, dancing, elocution, and drawing were held +in the morning. The afternoon was spent at lawn tennis, to which +lady guests resident in the neighborhood were allowed to bring their +husbands, brothers, and fathers--Miss Wilson being anxious to send +her pupils forth into the world free from the uncouth stiffness of +schoolgirls unaccustomed to society. + +Late in October came a Saturday which proved anything but a holiday +for Miss Wilson. At half-past one, luncheon being over, she went out of +doors to a lawn that lay between the southern side of the college and a +shrubbery. Here she found a group of girls watching Agatha and Jane, who +were dragging a roller over the grass. One of them, tossing a ball about +with her racket, happened to drive it into the shrubbery, whence, to the +surprise of the company, Smilash presently emerged, carrying the ball, +blinking, and proclaiming that, though a common man, he had his feelings +like another, and that his eye was neither a stick nor a stone. He +was dressed as before, but his garments, soiled with clay and lime, no +longer looked new. + +“What brings you here, pray?” demanded Miss Wilson. + +“I was led into the belief that you sent for me, lady,” he replied. +“The baker’s lad told me so as he passed my ‘umble cot this morning. I +thought he were incapable of deceit.” + +“That is quite right; I did send for you. But why did you not go round +to the servants’ hall?” + +“I am at present in search of it, lady. I were looking for it when +this ball cotch me here” (touching his eye). “A cruel blow on the hi’ +nat’rally spires its vision and expression and makes a honest man look +like a thief.” + +“Agatha,” said Miss Wilson, “come here.” + +“My dooty to you, Miss,” said Smilash, pulling his forelock. + +“This is the man from whom I had the five shillings, which he said you +had just given him. Did you do so?” + +“Certainly not. I only gave him threepence.” + +“But I showed the money to your ladyship,” said Smilash, twisting his +hat agitatedly. “I gev it you. Where would the like of me get five +shillings except by the bounty of the rich and noble? If the young +lady thinks I hadn’t ort to have kep’ the tother ‘arfcrown, I would not +object to its bein’ stopped from my wages if I were given a job of work +here. But--” + +“But it’s nonsense,” said Agatha. “I never gave you three half-crowns.” + +“Perhaps you mout ‘a’ made a mistake. Pence is summat similar to +‘arf-crowns, and the day were very dark.” + +“I couldn’t have,” said Agatha. “Jane had my purse all the earlier +part of the week, Miss Wilson, and she can tell you that there was only +threepence in it. You know that I get my money on the first of every +month. It never lasts longer than a week. The idea of my having seven +and sixpence on the sixteenth is ridiculous.” + +“But I put it to you, Miss, ain’t it twice as ridiculous for me, a poor +laborer, to give up money wot I never got?” + +Vague alarm crept upon Agatha as the testimony of her senses was +contradicted. “All I know is,” she protested, “that I did not give it to +you; so my pennies must have turned into half-crowns in your pocket.” + +“Mebbe so,” said Smilash gravely. “I’ve heard, and I know it for a fact, +that money grows in the pockets of the rich. Why not in the pockets of +the poor as well? Why should you be su’prised at wot ‘appens every day?” + +“Had you any money of your own about you at the time?” + +“Where could the like of me get money?--asking pardon for making so bold +as to catechise your ladyship.” + +“I don’t know where you could get it,” said Miss Wilson testily; “I ask +you, had you any?” + +“Well, lady, I disremember. I will not impose upon you. I disremember.” + +“Then you’ve made a mistake,” said Miss Wilson, handing him back his +money. “Here. If it is not yours, it is not ours; so you had better keep +it.” + +“Keep it! Oh, lady, but this is the heighth of nobility! And what shall +I do to earn your bounty, lady?” + +“It is not my bounty: I give it to you because it does not belong to me, +and, I suppose, must belong to you. You seem to be a very simple man.” + +“I thank your ladyship; I hope I am. Respecting the day’s work, now, +lady; was you thinking of employing a poor man at all?” + +“No, thank you; I have no occasion for your services. I have also to +give you the shilling I promised you for getting the cabs. Here it is.” + +“Another shillin’!” cried Smilash, stupefied. + +“Yes,” said Miss Wilson, beginning to feel very angry. “Let me hear no +more about it, please. Don’t you understand that you have earned it?” + +“I am a common man, and understand next to nothing,” he replied +reverently. “But if your ladyship would give me a day’s work to keep me +goin’, I could put up all this money in a little wooden savings bank I +have at home, and keep it to spend when sickness or odd age shall, in a +manner of speaking, lay their ‘ends upon me. I could smooth that grass +beautiful; them young ladies ‘ll strain themselves with that heavy +roller. If tennis is the word, I can put up nets fit to catch birds of +paradise in. If the courts is to be chalked out in white, I can draw a +line so straight that you could hardly keep yourself from erecting an +equilateral triangle on it. I am honest when well watched, and I can +wait at table equal to the Lord Mayor o’ London’s butler.” + +“I cannot employ you without a character,” said Miss Wilson, amused by +his scrap of Euclid, and wondering where he had picked it up. + +“I bear the best of characters, lady. The reverend rector has known me +from a boy.” + +“I was speaking to him about you yesterday,” said Miss Wilson, looking +hard at him, “and he says you are a perfect stranger to him.” + +“Gentlemen is so forgetful,” said Smilash sadly. “But I alluded to my +native rector--meaning the rector of my native village, Auburn. ‘Sweet +Auburn, loveliest village of the plain,’ as the gentleman called it.” + +“That was not the name you mentioned to Mr. Fairholme. I do not +recollect what name you gave, but it was not Auburn, nor have I ever +heard of any such place.” + +“Never read of sweet Auburn!” + +“Not in any geography or gazetteer. Do you recollect telling me that you +have been in prison?” + +“Only six times,” pleaded Smilash, his features working convulsively. +“Don’t bear too hard on a common man. Only six times, and all through +drink. But I have took the pledge, and kep’ it faithful for eighteen +months past.” + +Miss Wilson now set down the man as one of those keen, half-witted +country fellows, contemptuously styled originals, who unintentionally +make themselves popular by flattering the sense of sanity in those whose +faculties are better adapted to circumstances. + +“You have a bad memory, Mr. Smilash,” she said good-humoredly. “You +never give the same account of yourself twice.” + +“I am well aware that I do not express myself with exactability. Ladies +and gentlemen have that power over words that they can always say what +they mean, but a common man like me can’t. Words don’t come natural to +him. He has more thoughts than words, and what words he has don’t fit +his thoughts. Might I take a turn with the roller, and make myself +useful about the place until nightfall, for ninepence?” + +Miss Wilson, who was expecting more than her usual Saturday visitors, +considered the proposition and assented. “And remember,” she said, “that +as you are a stranger here, your character in Lyvern depends upon the +use you make of this opportunity.” + +“I am grateful to your noble ladyship. May your ladyship’s goodness sew +up the hole which is in the pocket where I carry my character, and which +has caused me to lose it so frequent. It’s a bad place for men to keep +their characters in; but such is the fashion. And so hurray for the +glorious nineteenth century!” + +He took off his coat, seized the roller, and began to pull it with +an energy foreign to the measured millhorse manner of the accustomed +laborer. Miss Wilson looked doubtfully at him, but, being in haste, went +indoors without further comment. The girls mistrusting his eccentricity, +kept aloof. Agatha determined to have another and better look at him. +Racket in hand, she walked slowly across the grass and came close to him +just as he, unaware of her approach, uttered a groan of exhaustion and +sat down to rest. + +“Tired already, Mr. Smilash?” she said mockingly. + +He looked up deliberately, took off one of his washleather gloves, +fanned himself with it, displaying a white and fine hand, and at last +replied, in the tone and with the accent of a gentleman: + +“Very.” + +Agatha recoiled. He fanned himself without the least concern. + +“You--you are not a laborer,” she said at last. + +“Obviously not.” + +“I thought not.” + +He nodded. + +“Suppose I tell on you,” she said, growing bolder as she recollected +that she was not alone with him. + +“If you do I shall get out of it just as I got out of the half-crowns, +and Miss Wilson will begin to think that you are mad.” + +“Then I really did not give you the seven and sixpence,” she said, +relieved. + +“What is your own opinion?” he answered, taking three pennies from his +pocket, jingling them in his palm. “What is your name?” + +“I shall not tell you,” said Agatha with dignity. + +He shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps you are right,” he said. “I would +not tell you mine if you asked me.” + +“I have not the slightest intention of asking you.” + +“No? Then Smilash shall do for you, and Agatha will do for me.” + +“You had better take care.” + +“Of what?” + +“Of what you say, and--are you not afraid of being found out?” + +“I am found out already--by you, and I am none the worse.” + +“Suppose the police find you out!” + +“Not they. Besides, I am not hiding from the police. I have a right to +wear corduroy if I prefer it to broadcloth. Consider the advantages of +it! It has procured me admission to Alton College, and the pleasure of +your acquaintance. Will you excuse me if I go on with my rolling, just +to keep up appearances? I can talk as I roll.” + +“You may, if you are fond of soliloquizing,” she said, turning away as +he rose. + +“Seriously, Agatha, you must not tell the others about me.” + +“Do not call me Agatha,” she said impetuously. “What shall I call you, +then?” + +“You need not address me at all.” + +“I need, and will. Don’t be ill-natured.” + +“But I don’t know you. I wonder at your--” she hesitated at the word +which occurred to her, but, being unable to think of a better one, used +it--“at your cheek.” + +He laughed, and she watched him take a couple of turns with the roller. +Presently, refreshing himself by a look at her, he caught her looking +at him, and smiled. His smile was commonplace in comparison with the +one she gave him in return, in which her eyes, her teeth, and the golden +grain in her complexion seemed to flash simultaneously. He stopped +rolling immediately, and rested his chin on the handle of the roller. + +“If you neglect your work,” said she maliciously, “you won’t have the +grass ready when the people come.” + +“What people?” he said, taken aback. + +“Oh, lots of people. Most likely some who know you. There are visitors +coming from London: my guardian, my guardianess, their daughter, my +mother, and about a hundred more.” + +“Four in all. What are they coming for? To see you?” + +“To take me away,” she replied, watching for signs of disappointment on +his part. + +They were at once forthcoming. “What the deuce are they going to take +you away for?” he said. “Is your education finished?” + +“No. I have behaved badly, and I am going to be expelled.” + +He laughed again. “Come!” he said, “you are beginning to invent in the +Smilash manner. What have you done?” + +“I don’t see why I should tell you. What have you done?” + +“I! Oh, I have done nothing. I am only an unromantic gentleman, hiding +from a romantic lady who is in love with me.” + +“Poor thing,” said Agatha sarcastically. “Of course, she has proposed to +you, and you have refused.” + +“On the contrary, I proposed, and she accepted. That is why I have to +hide.” + +“You tell stories charmingly,” said Agatha. “Good-bye. Here is Miss +Carpenter coming to hear what we are taking about.” + +“Good-bye. That story of your being expelled beats--Might a common man +make so bold as to inquire where the whitening machine is, Miss?” + +This was addressed to Jane, who had come up with some of the others. +Agatha expected to see Smilash presently discovered, for his disguise +now seemed transparent; she wondered how the rest could be imposed on +by it. Two o’clock, striking just then, reminded her of the impending +interview with her guardian. A tremor shook her, and she felt a craving +for some solitary hiding-place in which to await the summons. But it +was a point of honor with her to appear perfectly indifferent to her +trouble, so she stayed with the girls, laughing and chatting as they +watched Smilash intently marking out the courts and setting up the nets. +She made the others laugh too, for her hidden excitement, sharpened by +irrepressible shootings of dread, stimulated her, and the romance of +Smilash’s disguise gave her a sensation of dreaming. Her imagination was +already busy upon a drama, of which she was the heroine and Smilash +the hero, though, with the real man before her, she could not indulge +herself by attributing to him quite as much gloomy grandeur of character +as to a wholly ideal personage. The plot was simple, and an old favorite +with her. One of them was to love the other and to die broken-hearted +because the loved one would not requite the passion. For Agatha, +prompt to ridicule sentimentality in her companions, and gifted with an +infectious spirit of farce, secretly turned for imaginative luxury to +visions of despair and death; and often endured the mortification of the +successful clown who believes, whilst the public roar with laughter at +him, that he was born a tragedian. There was much in her nature, she +felt, that did not find expression in her popular representation of the +soldier in the chimney. + +By three o’clock the local visitors had arrived, and tennis was +proceeding in four courts, rolled and prepared by Smilash. The two +curates were there, with a few lay gentlemen. Mrs. Miller, the vicar, +and some mothers and other chaperons looked on and consumed light +refreshments, which were brought out upon trays by Smilash, who +had borrowed and put on a large white apron, and was making himself +officiously busy. + +At a quarter past the hour a message came from Miss Wilson, requesting +Miss Wylie’s attendance. The visitors were at a loss to account for the +sudden distraction of the young ladies’ attention which ensued. Jane +almost burst into tears, and answered Josephs rudely when he innocently +asked what the matter was. Agatha went away apparently unconcerned, +though her hand shook as she put aside her racket. + +In a spacious drawing-room at the north side of the college she found +her mother, a slight woman in widow’s weeds, with faded brown hair, and +tearful eyes. With her were Mrs. Jansenius and her daughter. The two +elder ladies kept severely silent whilst Agatha kissed them, and Mrs. +Wylie sniffed. Henrietta embraced Agatha effusively. + +“Where’s Uncle John?” said Agatha. “Hasn’t he come?” + +“He is in the next room with Miss Wilson,” said Mrs. Jansenius coldly. +“They want you in there.” + +“I thought somebody was dead,” said Agatha, “you all look so funereal. +Now, mamma, put your handkerchief back again. If you cry I will give +Miss Wilson a piece of my mind for worrying you.” + +“No, no,” said Mrs. Wylie, alarmed. “She has been so nice!” + +“So good!” said Henrietta. + +“She has been perfectly reasonable and kind,” said Mrs. Jansenius. + +“She always is,” said Agatha complacently. “You didn’t expect to find +her in hysterics, did you?” + +“Agatha,” pleaded Mrs. Wylie, “don’t be headstrong and foolish.” + +“Oh, she won’t; I know she won’t,” said Henrietta coaxingly. “Will you, +dear Agatha?” + +“You may do as you like, as far as I am concerned,” said Mrs. Jansenius. +“But I hope you have more sense than to throw away your education for +nothing.” + +“Your aunt is quite right,” said Mrs. Wylie. “And your Uncle John is +very angry with you. He will never speak to you again if you quarrel +with Miss Wilson.” + +“He is not angry,” said Henrietta, “but he is so anxious that you should +get on well.” + +“He will naturally be disappointed if you persist in making a fool of +yourself,” said Mrs. Jansenius. + +“All Miss Wilson wants is an apology for the dreadful things you wrote +in her book,” said Mrs. Wylie. “You’ll apologize, dear, won’t you?” + +“Of course she will,” said Henrietta. + +“I think you had better,” said Mrs. Jansenius. + +“Perhaps I will,” said Agatha. + +“That’s my own darling,” said Mrs. Wylie, catching her hand. + +“And perhaps, again, I won’t.” + +“You will, dear,” urged Mrs. Wylie, trying to draw Agatha, who passively +resisted, closer to her. “For my sake. To oblige your mother, Agatha. +You won’t refuse me, dearest?” + +Agatha laughed indulgently at her parent, who had long ago worn out this +form of appeal. Then she turned to Henrietta, and said, “How is your +caro sposo? I think it was hard that I was not a bridesmaid.” + +The red in Henrietta’s cheeks brightened. Mrs. Jansenius hastened to +interpose a dry reminder that Miss Wilson was waiting. + +“Oh, she does not mind waiting,” said Agatha, “because she thinks you +are all at work getting me into a proper frame of mind. That was the +arrangement she made with you before she left the room. Mamma knows that +I have a little bird that tells me these things. I must say that you +have not made me feel any goody-goodier so far. However, as poor Uncle +John must be dreadfully frightened and uncomfortable, it is only kind to +put an end to his suspense. Good-bye!” And she went out leisurely. +But she looked in again to say in a low voice: “Prepare for something +thrilling. I feel just in the humor to say the most awful things.” She +vanished, and immediately they heard her tapping at the door of the next +room. + +Mr. Jansenius was indeed awaiting her with misgiving. Having discovered +early in his career that his dignified person and fine voice caused +people to stand in some awe of him, and to move him into the chair +at public meetings, he had grown so accustomed to deference that any +approach to familiarity or irreverence disconcerted him exceedingly. +Agatha, on the other hand, having from her childhood heard Uncle John +quoted as wisdom and authority incarnate, had begun in her tender years +to scoff at him as a pompous and purseproud city merchant, whose +sordid mind was unable to cope with her transcendental affairs. She +had habitually terrified her mother by ridiculing him with an absolute +contempt of which only childhood and extreme ignorance are capable. She +had felt humiliated by his kindness to her (he was a generous giver +of presents), and, with the instinct of an anarchist, had taken +disparagement of his advice and defiance of his authority as the signs +wherefrom she might infer surely that her face was turned to the light. +The result was that he was a little tired of her without being quite +conscious of it; and she not at all afraid of him, and a little too +conscious of it. + +When she entered with her brightest smile in full play, Miss Wilson and +Mr. Jansenius, seated at the table, looked somewhat like two culprits +about to be indicted. Miss Wilson waited for him to speak, deferring to +his imposing presence. But he was not ready, so she invited Agatha to +sit down. + +“Thank you,” said Agatha sweetly. “Well, Uncle John, don’t you know me?” + +“I have heard with regret from Miss Wilson that you have been very +troublesome here,” he said, ignoring her remark, though secretly put out +by it. + +“Yes,” said Agatha contritely. “I am so very sorry.” + +Mr. Jansenius, who had been led by Miss Wilson to expect the utmost +contumacy, looked to her in surprise. + +“You seem to think,” said Miss Wilson, conscious of Mr. Jansenius’s +movement, and annoyed by it, “that you may transgress over and over +again, and then set yourself right with us,” (Miss Wilson never spoke of +offences as against her individual authority, but as against the school +community) “by saying that you are sorry. You spoke in a very different +tone at our last meeting.” + +“I was angry then, Miss Wilson. And I thought I had a +grievance--everybody thinks they have the same one. Besides, we were +quarrelling--at least I was; and I always behave badly when I quarrel. I +am so very sorry.” + +“The book was a serious matter,” said Miss Wilson gravely. “You do not +seem to think so.” + +“I understand Agatha to say that she is now sensible of the folly of her +conduct with regard to the book, and that she is sorry for it,” said Mr. +Jansenius, instinctively inclining to Agatha’s party as the stronger one +and the least dependent on him in a pecuniary sense. + +“Have you seen the book?” said Agatha eagerly. + +“No. Miss Wilson has described what has occurred.” + +“Oh, do let me get it,” she cried, rising. “It will make Uncle John +scream with laughing. May I, Miss Wilson?” + +“There!” said Miss Wilson, indignantly. “It is this incorrigible +flippancy of which I have to complain. Miss Wylie only varies it by +downright insubordination.” + +Mr. Jansenius too was scandalized. His fine color mounted at the idea +of his screaming. “Tut, tut!” he said, “you must be serious, and more +respectful to Miss Wilson. You are old enough to know better now, +Agatha--quite old enough.” + +Agatha’s mirth vanished. “What have I said What have I done?” she asked, +a faint purple spot appearing in her cheeks. + +“You have spoken triflingly of--of the volume by which Miss Wilson sets +great store, and properly so.” + +“If properly so, then why do you find fault with me?” + +“Come, come,” roared Mr. Jansenius, deliberately losing his temper as a +last expedient to subdue her, “don’t be impertinent, Miss.” + +Agatha’s eyes dilated; evanescent flushes played upon her cheeks and +neck; she stamped with her heel. “Uncle John,” she cried, “if you dare +to address me like that, I will never look at you, never speak to you, +nor ever enter your house again. What do you know about good manners, +that you should call me impertinent? I will not submit to intentional +rudeness; that was the beginning of my quarrel with Miss Wilson. She +told me I was impertinent, and I went away and told her that she was +wrong by writing it in the fault book. She has been wrong all through, +and I would have said so before but that I wanted to be reconciled to +her and to let bygones be bygones. But if she insists on quarrelling, I +cannot help it.” + +“I have already explained to you, Mr. Jansenius,” said Miss Wilson, +concentrating her resentment by an effort to suppress it, “that Miss +Wylie has ignored all the opportunities that have been made for her to +reinstate herself here. Mrs. Miller and I have waived merely personal +considerations, and I have only required a simple acknowledgment of this +offence against the college and its rules.” + +“I do not care that for Mrs. Miller,” said Agatha, snapping her fingers. +“And you are not half so good as I thought.” + +“Agatha,” said Mr. Jansenius, “I desire you to hold your tongue.” + +Agatha drew a deep breath, sat down resignedly, and said: “There! I have +done. I have lost my temper; so now we have all lost our tempers.” + +“You have no right to lose your temper, Miss,” said Mr. Jansenius, +following up a fancied advantage. + +“I am the youngest, and the least to blame,” she replied. “There +is nothing further to be said, Mr. Jansenius,” said Miss Wilson, +determinedly. “I am sorry that Miss Wylie has chosen to break with us.” + +“But I have not chosen to break with you, and I think it very hard that +I am to be sent away. Nobody here has the least quarrel with me except +you and Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller is annoyed because she mistook me for +her cat, as if that was my fault! And really, Miss Wilson, I don’t know +why you are so angry. All the girls will think I have done something +infamous if I am expelled. I ought to be let stay until the end of the +term; and as to the Rec--the fault book, you told me most particularly +when I first came that I might write in it or not just as I pleased, and +that you never dictated or interfered with what was written. And yet the +very first time I write a word you disapprove of, you expel me. Nobody +will ever believe now that the entries are voluntary.” + +Miss Wilson’s conscience, already smitten by the coarseness and absence +of moral force in the echo of her own “You are impertinent,” from the +mouth of Mr. Jansenius, took fresh alarm. “The fault book,” she said, +“is for the purpose of recording self-reproach alone, and is not a +vehicle for accusations against others.” + +“I am quite sure that neither Jane nor Gertrude nor I reproached +ourselves in the least for going downstairs as we did, and yet you did +not blame us for entering that. Besides, the book represented moral +force--at least you always said so, and when you gave up moral force, +I thought an entry should be made of that. Of course I was in a rage at +the time, but when I came to myself I thought I had done right, and I +think so still, though it would perhaps have been better to have passed +it over.” + +“Why do you say that I gave up moral force?” + +“Telling people to leave the room is not moral force. Calling them +impertinent is not moral force.” + +“You think then that I am bound to listen patiently to whatever you +choose to say to me, however unbecoming it may be from one in your +position to one in mine?” + +“But I said nothing unbecoming,” said Agatha. Then, breaking off +restlessly, and smiling again, she said: “Oh, don’t let us argue. I +am very sorry, and very troublesome, and very fond of you and of the +college; and I won’t come back next term unless you like.” + +“Agatha,” said Miss Wilson, shaken, “these expressions of regard cost +you so little, and when they have effected their purpose, are so +soon forgotten by you, that they have ceased to satisfy me. I am very +reluctant to insist on your leaving us at once. But as your uncle has +told you, you are old and sensible enough to know the difference between +order and disorder. Hitherto you have been on the side of disorder, an +element which was hardly known here until you came, as Mrs. Trefusis +can tell you. Nevertheless, if you will promise to be more careful in +future, I will waive all past cause of complaint, and at the end of the +term I shall be able to judge as to your continuing among us.” + +Agatha rose, beaming. “Dear Miss Wilson,” she said, “you are so good! I +promise, of course. I will go and tell mamma.” + +Before they could add a word she had turned with a pirouette to the +door, and fled, presenting herself a moment later in the drawing-room to +the three ladies, whom she surveyed with a whimsical smile in silence. + +“Well?” said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily. + +“Well, dear?” said Mrs. Trefusis, caressingly. + +Mrs. Wylie stifled a sob and looked imploringly at her daughter. + +“I had no end of trouble in bringing them to reason,” said Agatha, after +a provoking pause. “They behaved like children, and I was like an angel. +I am to stay, of course.” + +“Blessings on you, my darling,” faltered Mrs. Wylie, attempting a kiss, +which Agatha dexterously evaded. + +“I have promised to be very good, and studious, and quiet, and decorous +in future. Do you remember my castanet song, Hetty? + +“‘Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! +lalalalalalalalalalala!’” + +And she danced about the room, snapping her fingers instead of +castanets. + +“Don’t be so reckless and wicked, my love,” said Mrs. Wylie. “You will +break your poor mother’s heart.” + +Miss Wilson and Mr. Jansenius entered just then, and Agatha became +motionless and gazed abstractedly at a vase of flowers. Miss Wilson +invited her visitors to join the tennis players. Mr. Jansenius looked +sternly and disappointedly at Agatha, who elevated her left eyebrow and +depressed her right simultaneously; but he, shaking his head to signify +that he was not to be conciliated by facial feats, however difficult +or contrary to nature, went out with Miss Wilson, followed by Mrs. +Jansenius and Mrs. Wylie. + +“How is your Hubby?” said Agatha then, brusquely, to Henrietta. + +Mrs. Trefusis’s eyes filled with tears so quickly that, as she bent her +head to hide them, they fell, sprinkling Agatha’s hand. + +“This is such a dear old place,” she began. “The associations of my +girlhood--” + +“What is the matter between you and Hubby?” demanded Agatha, +interrupting her. “You had better tell me, or I will ask him when I meet +him.” + +“I was about to tell you, only you did not give me time.” + +“That is a most awful cram,” said Agatha. “But no matter. Go on.” + +Henrietta hesitated. Her dignity as a married woman, and the reality of +her grief, revolted against the shallow acuteness of the schoolgirl. But +she found herself no better able to resist Agatha’s domineering than +she had been in her childhood, and much more desirous of obtaining her +sympathy. Besides, she had already learnt to tell the story herself +rather than leave its narration to others, whose accounts did not, +she felt, put her case in the proper light. So she told Agatha of her +marriage, her wild love for her husband, his wild love for her, and his +mysterious disappearance without leaving word or sign behind him. She +did not mention the letter. + +“Have you had him searched for?” said Agatha, repressing an inclination +to laugh. + +“But where? Had I the remotest clue, I would follow him barefoot to the +end of the world.” + +“I think you ought to search all the rivers--you would have to do that +barefoot. He must have fallen in somewhere, or fallen down some place.” + +“No, no. Do you think I should be here if I thought his life in danger? +I have reasons--I know that he is only gone away.” + +“Oh, indeed! He took his portmanteau with him, did he? Perhaps he +has gone to Paris to buy you something nice and give you a pleasant +surprise.” + +“No,” said Henrietta dejectedly. “He knew that I wanted nothing.” + +“Then I suppose he got tired of you and ran away.” + +Henrietta’s peculiar scarlet blush flowed rapidly over her cheeks as she +flung Agatha’s arm away, exclaiming, “How dare you say so! You have no +heart. He adored me.” + +“Bosh!” said Agatha. “People always grow tired of one another. I grow +tired of myself whenever I am left alone for ten minutes, and I am +certain that I am fonder of myself than anyone can be of another +person.” + +“I know you are,” said Henrietta, pained and spiteful. “You have always +been particularly fond of yourself.” + +“Very likely he resembles me in that respect. In that case he will grow +tired of himself and come back, and you will both coo like turtle doves +until he runs away again. Ugh! Serve you right for getting married. I +wonder how people can be so mad as to do it, with the example of their +married acquaintances all warning them against it.” + +“You don’t know what it is to love,” said Henrietta, plaintively, and +yet patronizingly. “Besides, we were not like other couples.” + +“So it seems. But never mind, take my word for it, he will return to you +as soon as he has had enough of his own company. Don’t worry thinking +about him, but come and have a game at lawn tennis.” + +During this conversation they had left the drawing-room and made a +detour through the grounds. They were now approaching the tennis courts +by a path which wound between two laurel hedges through the shrubbery. +Meanwhile, Smilash, waiting on the guests in his white apron and gloves +(which he had positively refused to take off, alleging that he was a +common man, with common hands such as born ladies and gentlemen could +not be expected to take meat and drink from), had behaved himself +irreproachably until the arrival of Miss Wilson and her visitors, which +occurred as he was returning to the table with an empty tray, moving so +swiftly that he nearly came into collision with Mrs. Jansenius. Instead +of apologizing, he changed countenance, hastily held up the tray like a +shield before his face, and began to walk backward from her, stumbling +presently against Miss Lindsay, who was running to return a ball. +Without heeding her angry look and curt rebuke, he half turned, and +sidled away into the shrubbery, whence the tray presently rose into the +air, flew across the laurel hedge, and descended with a peal of stage +thunder on the stooped shoulders of Josephs. Miss Wilson, after asking +the housekeeper with some asperity why she had allowed that man to +interfere in the attendance, explained to the guests that he was the +idiot of the countryside. Mr. Jansenius laughed, and said that he had +not seen the man’s face, but that his figure reminded him forcibly of +some one; he could not just then recollect exactly whom. + +Smilash, making off through the shrubbery, found the end of his path +blocked by Agatha and a young lady whose appearance alarmed him more +than had that of Mrs. Jansenius. He attempted to force his tray through +the hedge, but in vain; the laurel was impenetrable, and the noise +he made attracted the attention of the approaching couple. He made no +further effort to escape, but threw his borrowed apron over his head and +stood bolt upright with his back against the bushes. + +“What is that man doing there?” said Henrietta, stopping mistrustfully. + +Agatha laughed, and said loudly, so that he might hear: “It is only +a harmless madman that Miss Wilson employs. He is fond of disguising +himself in some silly way and trying to frighten us. Don’t be afraid. +Come on.” + +Henrietta hung back, but her arm was linked in Agatha’s, and she was +drawn along in spite of herself. Smilash did not move. Agatha strolled +on coolly, and as she passed him, adroitly caught the apron between +her finger and thumb and twitched it from his face. Instantly Henrietta +uttered a piercing scream, and Smilash caught her in his arms. + +“Quick,” he said to Agatha, “she is fainting. Run for some water. +Run!” And he bent over Henrietta, who clung to him frantically. Agatha, +bewildered by the effect of her practical joke, hesitated a moment, and +then ran to the lawn. + +“What is the matter?” said Fairholme. + +“Nothing. I want some water--quick, please. Henrietta has fainted in the +shrubbery, that is all.” + +“Please do not stir,” said Miss Wilson authoritatively, “you will crowd +the path and delay useful assistance. Miss Ward, kindly get some water +and bring it to us. Agatha, come with me and point out where Mrs. +Trefusis is. You may come too, Miss Carpenter; you are so strong. The +rest will please remain where they are.” + +Followed by the two girls, she hurried into the shrubbery, where Mr. +Jansenius was already looking anxiously for his daughter. He was the +only person they found there. Smilash and Henrietta were gone. + +At first the seekers, merely puzzled, did nothing but question Agatha +incredulously as to the exact spot on which Henrietta had fallen. But +Mr. Jansenius soon made them understand that the position of a lady +in the hands of a half-witted laborer was one of danger. His agitation +infected them, and when Agatha endeavored to reassure him by declaring +that Smilash was a disguised gentleman, Miss Wilson, supposing this to +be a mere repetition of her former idle conjecture, told her sharply to +hold her tongue, as the time was not one for talking nonsense. The news +now spread through the whole company, and the excitement became intense. +Fairholme shouted for volunteers to make up a searching party. All the +men present responded, and they were about to rush to the college gates +in a body when it Occurred to the cooler among them that they had better +divide into several parties, in order that search might be made at once +in different quarters. Ten minutes of confusion followed. Mr. Jansenius +started several times in quest of Henrietta, and, when he had gone a few +steps, returned and begged that no more time should be wasted. Josephs, +whose faith was simple, retired to pray, and did good, as far as it +went, by withdrawing one voice from the din of plans, objections, and +suggestions which the rest were making; each person trying to be heard +above the others. + +At last Miss Wilson quelled the prevailing anarchy. Servants were sent +to alarm the neighbors and call in the village police. Detachments were +sent in various directions under the command of Fairholme and other +energetic spirits. The girls formed parties among themselves, which were +reinforced by male deserters from the previous levies. Miss Wilson then +went indoors and conducted a search through the interior of the college. +Only two persons were left on the tennis ground--Agatha and Mrs. +Jansenius, who had been surprisingly calm throughout. + +“You need not be anxious,” said Agatha, who had been standing aloof +since her rebuff by Miss Wilson. “I am sure there is no danger. It is +most extraordinary that they have gone away; but the man is no more mad +than I am, and I know he is a gentleman He told me so.” + +“Let us hope for the best,” said Mrs. Jansenius, smoothly. “I think +I will sit down--I feel so tired. Thanks.” (Agatha had handed her a +chair.) “What did you say he told you--this man?” + +Agatha related the circumstances of her acquaintance with Smilash, +adding, at Mrs. Jansenius’s request, a minute description of his +personal appearance. Mrs. Jansenius remarked that it was very singular, +and that she was sure Henrietta was quite safe. She then partook of +claret-cup and sandwiches. Agatha, though glad to find someone disposed +to listen to her, was puzzled by her aunt’s coolness, and was even +goaded into pointing out that though Smilash was not a laborer, it did +not follow that he was an honest man. But Mrs. Jansenius only said: “Oh, +she is safe--quite safe! At least, of course, I can only hope so. We +shall have news presently,” and took another sandwich. + +The searchers soon began to return, baffled. A few shepherds, the only +persons in the vicinity, had been asked whether they had seen a young +lady and a laborer. Some of them had seen a young woman with a basket of +clothes, if that mout be her. Some thought that Phil Martin the +carrier would see her if anybody would. None of them had any positive +information to give. + +As the afternoon wore on, and party after party returned tired and +unsuccessful, depression replaced excitement; conversation, no longer +tumultuous, was carried on in whispers, and some of the local visitors +slipped away to their homes with a growing conviction that something +unpleasant had happened, and that it would be as well not to be mixed up +in it. Mr. Jansenius, though a few words from his wife had surprised and +somewhat calmed him, was still pitiably restless and uneasy. + +At last the police arrived. At sight of their uniforms excitement +revived; there was a general conviction that something effectual would +be done now. But the constables were only mortal, and in a few moments a +whisper spread that they were fooled. They doubted everything told them, +and expressed their contempt for amateur searching by entering on +a fresh investigation, prying with the greatest care into the least +probable places. Two of them went off to the chalet to look for Smilash. +Then Fairholme, sunburnt, perspiring, and dusty, but still energetic, +brought back the exhausted remnant of his party, with a sullen boy, who +scowled defiantly at the police, evidently believing that he was about +to be delivered into their custody. + +Fairholme had been everywhere, and, having seen nothing of the missing +pair, had come to the conclusion that they were nowhere. He had asked +everybody for information, and had let them know that he meant to have +it too, if it was to be had. But it was not to be had. The sole resort +of his labor was the evidence of the boy whom he didn’t believe. + +“‘Im!” said the inspector, not quite pleased by Fairholme’s zeal, and +yet overborne by it. “You’re Wickens’s boy, ain’t you?” + +“Yes, I am Wickens’s boy,” said the witness, partly fierce, partly +lachrymose, “and I say I seen him, and if anyone sez I didn’t see him, +he’s a lie.” + +“Come,” said the inspector sharply, “give us none of your cheek, but +tell us what you saw, or you’ll have to deal with me afterwards.” + +“I don’t care who I deal with,” said the boy, at bay. “I can’t be took +for seein’ him, because there’s no lor agin it. I was in the gravel pit +in the canal meadow--” + +“What business had you there?” said the inspector, interrupting. + +“I got leave to be there,” said the boy insolently, but reddening. + +“Who gave you leave?” said the inspector, collaring him. “Ah,” he added, +as the captive burst into tears, “I told you you’d have to deal with me. +Now hold your noise, and remember where you are and who you’re speakin’ +to; and perhaps I mayn’t lock you up this time. Tell me what you saw +when you were trespassin’ in the meadow.” + +“I sor a young ‘omen and a man. And I see her kissin’ him; and the +gentleman won’t believe me.” + +“You mean you saw him kissing her, more likely.” + +“No, I don’t. I know wot it is to have a girl kiss you when you don’t +want. And I gev a screech to friken ‘em. And he called me and gev me +tuppence, and sez, ‘You go to the devil,’ he sez, ‘and don’t tell no one +you seen me here, or else,’ he sez, ‘I might be tempted to drownd you,’ +he sez, ‘and wot a shock that would be to your parents!’ ‘Oh, yes, very +likely,’ I sez, jes’ like that. Then I went away, because he knows Mr. +Wickens, and I was afeerd of his telling on me.” + +The boy being now subdued, questions were put to him from all sides. +But his powers of observation and description went no further. As he was +anxious to propitiate his captors, he answered as often as possible in +the affirmative. Mr. Jansenius asked him whether the young woman he had +seen was a lady, and he said yes. Was the man a laborer? Yes--after a +moment’s hesitation. How was she dressed? He hadn’t taken notice. Had +she red flowers in her hat? Yes. Had she a green dress? Yes. Were the +flowers in her hat yellow? (Agatha’s question.) Yes. Was her dress pink? +Yes. Sure it wasn’t black? No answer. + +“I told you he was a liar,” said Fairholme contemptuously. + +“Well, I expect he’s seen something,” said the inspector, “but what it +was, or who it was, is more than I can get out of him.” + +There was a pause, and they looked askance upon Wickens’s boy. His +account of the kissing made it almost an insult to the Janseniuses to +identify with Henrietta the person he had seen. Jane suggested dragging +the canal, but was silenced by an indignant “sh-sh-sh,” accompanied by +apprehensive and sympathetic glances at the bereaved parents. She was +displaced from the focus of attention by the appearance of the two +policemen who had been sent to the chalet. Smilash was between them, +apparently a prisoner. At a distance, he seemed to have suffered some +frightful injury to his head, but when he was brought into the midst of +the company it appeared that he had twisted a red handkerchief about +his face as if to soothe a toothache. He had a particularly hangdog +expression as he stood before the inspector with his head bowed and his +countenance averted from Mr. Jansenius, who, attempting to scrutinize +his features, could see nothing but a patch of red handkerchief. + +One of the policemen described how they had found Smilash in the act of +entering his dwelling; how he had refused to give any information or +to go to the college, and had defied them to take him there against his +will; and how, on their at last proposing to send for the inspector +and Mr. Jansenius, he had called them asses, and consented to accompany +them. The policeman concluded by declaring that the man was either drunk +or designing, as he could not or would not speak sensibly. + +“Look here, governor,” began Smilash to the inspector, “I am a common +man--no commoner goin’, as you may see for--” + +“That’s ‘im,” cried Wickens’s boy, suddenly struck with a sense of his +own importance as a witness. “That’s ‘im that the lady kissed, and that +gev me tuppence and threatened to drownd me.” + +“And with a ‘umble and contrite ‘art do I regret that I did not drownd +you, you young rascal,” said Smilash. “It ain’t manners to interrupt a +man who, though common, might be your father for years and wisdom.” + +“Hold your tongue,” said the inspector to the boy. “Now, Smilash, do you +wish to make any statement? Be careful, for whatever you say may be used +against you hereafter.” + +“If you was to lead me straight away to the scaffold, colonel, I could +tell you no more than the truth. If any man can say that he has heard +Jeff Smilash tell a lie, let him stand forth.” + +“We don’t want to hear about that,” said the inspector. “As you are a +stranger in these parts, nobody here knows any bad of you. No more do +they know any good of you neither.” + +“Colonel,” said Smilash, deeply impressed, “you have a penetrating mind, +and you know a bad character at sight. Not to deceive you, I am that +given to lying, and laziness, and self-indulgence of all sorts, that the +only excuse I can find for myself is that it is the nature of the race +so to be; for most men is just as bad as me, and some of ‘em worsen I do +not speak pers’nal to you, governor, nor to the honorable gentlemen here +assembled. But then you, colonel, are a hinspector of police, which +I take to be more than merely human; and as to the gentlemen here, a +gentleman ain’t a man--leastways not a common man--the common man bein’ +but the slave wot feeds and clothes the gentleman beyond the common.” + +“Come,” said the inspector, unable to follow these observations, “you +are a clever dodger, but you can’t dodge me. Have you any statement to +make with reference to the lady that was last seen in your company?” + +“Take a statement about a lady!” said Smilash indignantly. “Far be the +thought from my mind!” + +“What have you done with her?” said Agatha, impetuously. “Don’t be +silly.” + +“You’re not bound to answer that, you know,” said the inspector, +a little put out by Agatha’s taking advantage of her irresponsible +unofficial position to come so directly to the point. “You may if you +like, though. If you’ve done any harm, you’d better hold your tongue. If +not, you’d better say so.” + +“I will set the young lady’s mind at rest respecting her honorable +sister,” said Smilash. “When the young lady caught sight of me she +fainted. Bein’ but a young man, and not used to ladies, I will not deny +but that I were a bit scared, and that my mind were not open to the +sensiblest considerations. When she unveils her orbs, so to speak, she +ketches me round the neck, not knowin’ me from Adam the father of us +all, and sez, ‘Bring me some water, and don’t let the girls see me.’ +Through not ‘avin’ the intelligence to think for myself, I done just +what she told me. I ups with her in my arms--she bein’ a light weight +and a slender figure--and makes for the canal as fast as I could. When I +got there, I lays her on the bank and goes for the water. But what +with factories, and pollutions, and high civilizations of one sort and +another, English canal water ain’t fit to sprinkle on a lady, much less +for her to drink. Just then, as luck would have it, a barge came along +and took her aboard, and--” + +“To such a thing,” said Wickens’s boy stubbornly, emboldened by +witnessing the effrontery of one apparently of his own class. “I sor you +two standin’ together, and her a kissin’ of you. There worn’s no barge.” + +“Is the maiden modesty of a born lady to be disbelieved on the word of a +common boy that only walks the earth by the sufferance of the landlords +and moneylords he helps to feed?” cried Smilash indignantly. “Why, you +young infidel, a lady ain’t made of common brick like you. She don’t +know what a kiss means, and if she did, is it likely that she’d kiss +me when a fine man like the inspector here would be only too happy to +oblige her. Fie, for shame! The barge were red and yellow, with a green +dragon for a figurehead, and a white horse towin’ of it. Perhaps you’re +color-blind, and can’t distinguish red and yellow. The bargee was moved +to compassion by the sight of the poor faintin’ lady, and the offer of +‘arf-a-crown, and he had a mother that acted as a mother should. There +was a cabin in that barge about as big as the locker where your ladyship +keeps your jam and pickles, and in that locker the bargee lives, quite +domestic, with his wife and mother and five children. Them canal boats +is what you may call the wooden walls of England.” + +“Come, get on with your story,” said the inspector. “We know what barges +is as well as you.” + +“I wish more knew of ‘em,” retorted Smilash; “perhaps it ‘ud lighten +your work a bit. However, as I was sayin’, we went right down the canal +to Lyvern, where we got off, and the lady she took the railway omnibus +and went away in it. With the noble openhandedness of her class, she +gave me sixpence; here it is, in proof that my words is true. And I wish +her safe home, and if I was on the rack I could tell no more, except +that when I got back I were laid hands on by these here bobbies, +contrary to the British constitooshun, and if your ladyship will kindly +go to where that constitooshun is wrote down, and find out wot it sez +about my rights and liberties--for I have been told that the working-man +has his liberties, and have myself seen plenty took with him--you +will oblige a common chap more than his education will enable him to +express.” + +“Sir,” cried Mr. Jansenius suddenly, “will you hold up your head and +look me in the face?” + +Smilash did so, and immediately started theatrically, exclaiming, “Whom +do I see?” + +“You would hardly believe it,” he continued, addressing the company at +large, “but I am well beknown to this honorable gentleman. I see it upon +your lips, governor, to ask after my missus, and I thank you for your +condescending interest. She is well, sir, and my residence here is +fully agreed upon between us. What little cloud may have rose upon our +domestic horizon has past away; and, governor,”---here Smilash’s voice +fell with graver emphasis--“them as interferes betwixt man and wife now +will incur a heavy responsibility. Here I am, such as you see me, and +here I mean to stay, likewise such as you see me. That is, if what you +may call destiny permits. For destiny is a rum thing, governor. I came +here thinking it was the last place in the world I should ever set eyes +on you in, and blow me if you ain’t a’most the first person I pops on.” + +“I do not choose to be a party to this mummery of--” + +“Asking your leave to take the word out of your mouth, governor, I make +you a party to nothink. Respecting my past conduct, you may out with it +or you may keep it to yourself. All I say is that if you out with some +of it I will out with the rest. All or none. You are free to tell the +inspector here that I am a bad ‘un. His penetrating mind have discovered +that already. But if you go into names and particulars, you will not +only be acting against the wishes of my missus, but you will lead to my +tellin’ the whole story right out afore everyone here, and then goin’ +away where no one won’t never find me.” + +“I think the less said the better,” said Mrs. Jansenius, uneasily +observant of the curiosity and surprise this dialogue was causing. “But +understand this, Mr.--” + +“Smilash, dear lady; Jeff Smilash.” + +“Mr. Smilash, whatever arrangement you may have made with your wife, it +has nothing to do with me. You have behaved infamously, and I desire +to have as little as possible to say to you in future! I desire to have +nothing to say to you--nothing,” said Mr. Jansenius. “I look on your +conduct as an insult to me, personally. You may live in any fashion +you please, and where you please. All England is open to you except one +place--my house. Come, Ruth.” He offered his arm to his wife; she took +it, and they turned away, looking about for Agatha, who, disgusted at +the gaping curiosity of the rest, had pointedly withdrawn beyond earshot +of the conversation. + +Miss Wilson looked from Smilash--who had watched Mr. Jansenius’s +explosion of wrath with friendly interest, as if it concerned him as a +curious spectator only--to her two visitors as they retreated. “Pray, do +you consider this man’s statement satisfactory?” she said to them. “I do +not.” + +“I am far too common a man to be able to make any statement that could +satisfy a mind cultivated as yours has been,” said Smilash, “but I would +‘umbly pint out to you that there is a boy yonder with a telegram trying +to shove hisself through the ‘iborn throng.” + +“Miss Wilson!” cried the boy shrilly. + +She took the telegram; read it; and frowned. “We have had all our +trouble for nothing, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, with suppressed +vexation. “Mrs. Trefusis says here that she has gone back to London. She +has not considered it necessary to add any explanation.” + +There was a general murmur of disappointment. + +“Don’t lose heart, ladies,” said Smilash. “She may be drowned or +murdered for all we know. Anyone may send a telegram in a false name. +Perhaps it’s a plant. Let’s hope for your sakes that some little +accident--on the railway, for instance--may happen yet.” + +Miss Wilson turned upon him, glad to find someone with whom she might +justly be angry. “You had better go about your business,” she said. “And +don’t let me see you here again.” + +“This is ‘ard,” said Smilash plaintively. “My intentions was nothing but +good. But I know wot it is. It’s that young varmint a-saying that the +young lady kissed me.” + +“Inspector,” said Miss Wilson, “will you oblige me by seeing that he +leaves the college as soon as possible?” + +“Where’s my wages?” he retorted reproachfully. “Where’s my lawful wages? +I am su’prised at a lady like you, chock full o’ moral science and +political economy, wanting to put a poor man off. Where’s your wages +fund? Where’s your remuneratory capital?” + +“Don’t you give him anything, ma’am,” said the inspector. “The money +he’s had from the lady will pay him very well. Move on here, or we’ll +precious soon hurry you.” + +“Very well,” grumbled Smilash. “I bargained for ninepence, and what with +the roller, and opening the soda water, and shoving them heavy tables +about, there was a decomposition of tissue in me to the tune of two +shillings. But all I ask is the ninepence, and let the lady keep the one +and threppence as the reward of abstinence. Exploitation of labor at +the rate of a hundred and twenty-five per cent., that is. Come, give us +ninepence, and I’ll go straight off.” + +“Here is a shilling,” said Miss Wilson. “Now go.” + +“Threppence change!” cried Smilash. “Honesty has ever been--” + +“You may keep the change.” + +“You have a noble ‘art, lady; but you’re flying in the face of the law +of supply and demand. If you keep payin’ at this rate, there’ll be a +rush of laborers to the college, and competition’ll soon bring you down +from a shilling to sixpence, let alone ninepence. That’s the way wages +go down and death rates goes up, worse luck for the likes of hus, as has +to sell ourselves like pigs in the market.” + +He was about to continue when the policeman took him by the arm, turned +him towards the gate, and pointed expressively in that direction. +Smilash looked vacantly at him for a moment. Then, with a wink at +Fairholme, he walked gravely away, amid general staring and silence. + + + +CHAPTER V + +What had passed between Smilash and Henrietta remained unknown except to +themselves. Agatha had seen Henrietta clasping his neck in her arms, +but had not waited to hear the exclamation of “Sidney, Sidney,” which +followed, nor to see him press her face to his breast in his anxiety to +stifle her voice as he said, “My darling love, don’t screech I implore +you. Confound it, we shall have the whole pack here in a moment. Hush!” + +“Don’t leave me again, Sidney,” she entreated, clinging faster to him +as his perplexed gaze, wandering towards the entrance to the shrubbery, +seemed to forsake her. A din of voices in that direction precipitated +his irresolution. + +“We must run away, Hetty,” he said “Hold fast about my neck, and don’t +strangle me. Now then.” He lifted her upon his shoulder and ran swiftly +through the grounds. When they were stopped by the wall, he placed her +atop of it, scrabbled over, and made her jump into his arms. Then he +staggered away with her across the fields, gasping out in reply to +the inarticulate remonstrances which burst from her as he stumbled and +reeled at every hillock, “Your weight is increasing at the rate of a +stone a second, my love. If you stoop you will break my back. Oh, Lord, +here’s a ditch!” + +“Let me down,” screamed Henrietta in an ecstasy of delight and +apprehension. “You will hurt yourself, and--Oh, DO take--” + +He struggled through a dry ditch as she spoke, and came out upon a +grassy place that bordered the towpath of the canal. Here, on the +bank of a hollow where the moss was dry and soft, he seated her, threw +himself prone on his elbows before her, and said, panting: + +“Nessus carrying off Dejanira was nothing to this! Whew! Well, my +darling, are you glad to see me?” + +“But--” + +“But me no buts, unless you wish me to vanish again and for ever. Wretch +that I am, I have longed for you unspeakably more than once since I ran +away from you. You didn’t care, of course?” + +“I did. I did, indeed. Why did you leave me, Sidney?” + +“Lest a worse thing might befall. Come, don’t let us waste in +explanations the few minutes we have left. Give me a kiss.” + +“Then you are going to leave me again. Oh, Sidney--” + +“Never mind to-morrow, Hetty. Be like the sun and the meadow, which are +not in the least concerned about the coming winter. Why do you stare +at that cursed canal, blindly dragging its load of filth from place to +place until it pitches it into the sea--just as a crowded street pitches +its load into the cemetery? Stare at ME, and give me a kiss.” + +She gave him several, and said coaxingly, with her arm still upon his +shoulder: “You only talk that way to frighten me, Sidney; I know you +do.” + +“You are the bright sun of my senses,” he said, embracing her. “I feel +my heart and brain wither in your smile, and I fling them to you for +your prey with exultation. How happy I am to have a wife who does not +despise me for doing so--who rather loves me the more!” + +“Don’t be silly,” said Henrietta, smiling vacantly. Then, stung by a +half intuition of his meaning, she repulsed him and said angrily, “YOU +despise ME.” + +“Not more than I despise myself. Indeed, not so much; for many emotions +that seem base from within seem lovable from without.” + +“You intend to leave me again. I feel it. I know it.” + +“You think you know it because you feel it. Not a bad reason, either.” + +“Then you ARE going to leave me?” + +“Do you not feel it and know it? Yes, my cherished Hetty, I assuredly +am.” + +She broke into wild exclamations of grief, and he drew her head down and +kissed her with a tender action which she could not resist, and a wry +face which she did not see. + +“My poor Hetty, you don’t understand me.” + +“I only understand that you hate me, and want to go away from me.” + +“That would be easy to understand. But the strangeness is that I LOVE +you and want to go away from you. Not for ever. Only for a time.” + +“But I don’t want you to go away. I won’t let you go away,” she said, +a trace of fierceness mingling with her entreaty. “Why do you want to +leave me if you love me?” + +“How do I know? I can no more tell you the whys and wherefores of myself +than I can lift myself up by the waistband and carry myself into the +next county, as some one challenged a speculator in perpetual motion to +do. I am too much a pessimist to respect my own affections. Do you know +what a pessimist is?” + +“A man who thinks everybody as nasty as himself, and hates them for it.” + +“So, or thereabout. Modern English polite society, my native sphere, +seems to me as corrupt as consciousness of culture and absence of +honesty can make it. A canting, lie-loving, fact-hating, scribbling, +chattering, wealth-hunting, pleasure-hunting, celebrity-hunting mob, +that, having lost the fear of hell, and not replaced it by the love of +justice, cares for nothing but the lion’s share of the wealth wrung by +threat of starvation from the hands of the classes that create it. If +you interrupt me with a silly speech, Hetty, I will pitch you into the +canal, and die of sorrow for my lost love afterwards. You know what I +am, according to the conventional description: a gentleman with lots of +money. Do you know the wicked origin of that money and gentility?” + +“Oh, Sidney; have you been doing anything?” + +“No, my best beloved; I am a gentleman, and have been doing nothing. +That a man can do so and not starve is nowadays not even a paradox. +Every halfpenny I possess is stolen money; but it has been stolen +legally, and, what is of some practical importance to you, I have no +means of restoring it to the rightful owners even if I felt inclined to. +Do you know what my father was?” + +“What difference can that make now? Don’t be disagreeable and full of +ridiculous fads, Sidney dear. I didn’t marry your father.” + +“No; but you married--only incidentally, of course--my father’s fortune. +That necklace of yours was purchased with his money; and I can almost +fancy stains of blood.” + +“Stop, Sidney. I don’t like this sort of romancing. It’s all nonsense. +DO be nice to me.” + +“There are stains of sweat on it, I know.” + +“You nasty wretch!” + +“I am thinking, not of you, my dainty one, but of the unfortunate people +who slave that we may live idly. Let me explain to you why we are so +rich. My father was a shrewd, energetic, and ambitious Manchester man, +who understood an exchange of any sort as a transaction by which one man +should lose and the other gain. He made it his object to make as many +exchanges as possible, and to be always the gaining party in them. I do +not know exactly what he was, for he was ashamed both of his antecedents +and of his relatives, from which I can only infer that they were honest, +and, therefore, unsuccessful people. However, he acquired some knowledge +of the cotton trade, saved some money, borrowed some more on the +security of his reputation for getting the better of other people in +business, and, as he accurately told me afterwards, started FOR HIMSELF. +He bought a factory and some raw cotton. Now you must know that a man, +by laboring some time on a piece of raw cotton, can turn it into a piece +of manufactured cotton fit for making into sheets and shifts and the +like. The manufactured cotton is more valuable than the raw cotton, +because the manufacture costs wear and tear of machinery, wear and tear +of the factory, rent of the ground upon which the factory is built, and +human labor, or wear and tear of live men, which has to be made good by +food, shelter, and rest. Do you understand that?” + +“We used to learn all about it at college. I don’t see what it has to do +with us, since you are not in the cotton trade.” + +“You learned as much as it was thought safe to teach you, no doubt; but +not quite all, I should think. When my father started for himself, there +were many men in Manchester who were willing to labor in this way, but +they had no factory to work in, no machinery to work with, and no raw +cotton to work on, simply because all this indispensable plant, and the +materials for producing a fresh supply of it, had been appropriated by +earlier comers. So they found themselves with gaping stomachs, shivering +limbs, and hungry wives and children, in a place called their own +country, in which, nevertheless, every scrap of ground and possible +source of subsistence was tightly locked up in the hands of others and +guarded by armed soldiers and policemen. In this helpless condition, the +poor devils were ready to beg for access to a factory and to raw cotton +on any conditions compatible with life. My father offered them the +use of his factory, his machines, and his raw cotton on the following +conditions: They were to work long and hard, early and late, to add +fresh value to his raw cotton by manufacturing it. Out of the value thus +created by them, they were to recoup him for what he supplied them with: +rent, shelter, gas, water, machinery, raw cotton--everything, and to pay +him for his own services as superintendent, manager, and salesman. So +far he asked nothing but just remuneration. But after this had been +paid, a balance due solely to their own labor remained. ‘Out of this,’ +said my father, ‘you shall keep just enough to save you from starving, +and of the rest you shall make me a present to reward me for my virtue +in saving money. Such is the bargain I propose. It is, in my opinion, +fair and calculated to encourage thrifty habits. If it does not strike +you in that light, you can get a factory and raw cotton for yourselves; +you shall not use mine.’ In other words, they might go to the devil and +starve--Hobson’s choice!--for all the other factories were owned by men +who offered no better terms. The Manchesterians could not bear to starve +or to see their children starve, and so they accepted his terms and went +into the factory. The terms, you see, did not admit of their beginning +to save for themselves as he had done. Well, they created great wealth +by their labor, and lived on very little, so that the balance they gave +for nothing to my father was large. He bought more cotton, and more +machinery, and more factories with it; employed more men to make wealth +for him, and saw his fortune increase like a rolling snowball. He +prospered enormously, but the work men were no better off than at first, +and they dared not rebel and demand more of the money they had made, for +there were always plenty of starving wretches outside willing to take +their places on the old terms. Sometimes he met with a check, as, for +instance, when, in his eagerness to increase his store, he made the men +manufacture more cotton than the public needed; or when he could not get +enough of raw cotton, as happened during the Civil War in America. Then +he adapted himself to circumstances by turning away as many workmen as +he could not find customers or cotton for; and they, of course, starved +or subsisted on charity. During the war-time a big subscription was got +up for these poor wretches, and my father subscribed one hundred pounds, +in spite, he said, of his own great losses. Then he bought new machines; +and, as women and children could work these as well as men, and were +cheaper and more docile, he turned away about seventy out of every +hundred of his HANDS (so he called the men), and replaced them by their +wives and children, who made money for him faster than ever. By this +time he had long ago given up managing the factories, and paid clever +fellows who had no money of their own a few hundreds a year to do it for +him. He also purchased shares in other concerns conducted on the same +principle; pocketed dividends made in countries which he had never +visited by men whom he had never seen; bought a seat in Parliament from +a poor and corrupt constituency, and helped to preserve the laws by +which he had thriven. Afterwards, when his wealth grew famous, he had +less need to bribe; for modern men worship the rich as gods, and will +elect a man as one of their rulers for no other reason than that he is +a millionaire. He aped gentility, lived in a palace at Kensington, and +bought a part of Scotland to make a deer forest of. It is easy enough to +make a deer forest, as trees are not necessary there. You simply drive +off the peasants, destroy their houses, and make a desert of the land. +However, my father did not shoot much himself; he generally let the +forest out by the season to those who did. He purchased a wife of gentle +blood too, with the unsatisfactory result now before you. That is +how Jesse Trefusis, a poor Manchester bagman, contrived to be come a +plutocrat and gentleman of landed estate. And also how I, who never did +a stroke of work in my life, am overburdened with wealth; whilst the +children of the men who made that wealth are slaving as their fathers +slaved, or starving, or in the workhouse, or on the streets, or the +deuce knows where. What do you think of that, my love?” + +“What is the use of worrying about it, Sidney? It cannot be helped now. +Besides, if your father saved money, and the others were improvident, he +deserved to make a fortune.” + +“Granted; but he didn’t make a fortune. He took a fortune that others +made. At Cambridge they taught me that his profits were the reward of +abstinence--the abstinence which enabled him to save. That quieted my +conscience until I began to wonder why one man should make another pay +him for exercising one of the virtues. Then came the question: what did +my father abstain from? The workmen abstained from meat, drink, fresh +air, good clothes, decent lodging, holidays, money, the society of their +families, and pretty nearly everything that makes life worth living, +which was perhaps the reason why they usually died twenty years or so +sooner than people in our circumstances. Yet no one rewarded them for +their abstinence. The reward came to my father, who abstained from +none of these things, but indulged in them all to his heart’s content. +Besides, if the money was the reward of abstinence, it seemed logical to +infer that he must abstain ten times as much when he had fifty thousand +a year as when he had only five thousand. Here was a problem for my +young mind. Required, something from which my father abstained and in +which his workmen exceeded, and which he abstained from more and more as +he grew richer and richer. The only thing that answered this description +was hard work, and as I never met a sane man willing to pay another for +idling, I began to see that these prodigious payments to my father were +extorted by force. To do him justice, he never boasted of abstinence. +He considered himself a hard-worked man, and claimed his fortune as the +reward of his risks, his calculations, his anxieties, and the journeys +he had to make at all seasons and at all hours. This comforted me +somewhat until it occurred to me that if he had lived a century earlier, +invested his money in a horse and a pair of pistols, and taken to the +road, his object--that of wresting from others the fruits of their labor +without rendering them an equivalent--would have been exactly the +same, and his risk far greater, for it would have included risk of +the gallows. Constant travelling with the constable at his heels, and +calculations of the chances of robbing the Dover mail, would have given +him his fill of activity and anxiety. On the whole, if Jesse Trefusis, +M.P., who died a millionaire in his palace at Kensington, had been a +highwayman, I could not more heartily loathe the social arrangements +that rendered such a career as his not only possible, but eminently +creditable to himself in the eyes of his fellows. Most men make it their +business to imitate him, hoping to become rich and idle on the same +terms. Therefore I turn my back on them. I cannot sit at their feasts +knowing how much they cost in human misery, and seeing how little they +produce of human happiness. What is your opinion, my treasure?” + +Henrietta seemed a little troubled. She smiled faintly, and said +caressingly, “It was not your fault, Sidney. _I_ don’t blame you.” + +“Immortal powers!” he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and appealing to +the skies, “here is a woman who believes that the only concern all +this causes me is whether she thinks any the worse of me personally on +account of it!” + +“No, no, Sidney. It is not I alone. Nobody thinks the worse of you for +it.” + +“Quite so,” he returned, in a polite frenzy. “Nobody sees any harm in +it. That is precisely the mischief of it.” + +“Besides,” she urged, “your mother belonged to one of the oldest +families in England.” + +“And what more can man desire than wealth with descent from a county +family! Could a man be happier than I ought to be, sprung as I am from +monopolists of all the sources and instruments of production--of land on +the one side, and of machinery on the other? This very ground on which +we are resting was the property of my mother’s father. At least the law +allowed him to use it as such. When he was a boy, there was a fairly +prosperous race of peasants settled here, tilling the soil, paying him +rent for permission to do so, and making enough out of it to satisfy +his large wants and their own narrow needs without working themselves to +death. But my grandfather was a shrewd man. He perceived that cows and +sheep produced more money by their meat and wool than peasants by their +husbandry. So he cleared the estate. That is, he drove the peasants from +their homes, as my father did afterwards in his Scotch deer forest. Or, +as his tombstone has it, he developed the resources of his country. I +don’t know what became of the peasants; HE didn’t know, and, I presume, +didn’t care. I suppose the old ones went into the workhouse, and the +young ones crowded the towns, and worked for men like my father in +factories. Their places were taken by cattle, which paid for their food +so well that my grandfather, getting my father to take shares in the +enterprise, hired laborers on the Manchester terms to cut that canal for +him. When it was made, he took toll upon it; and his heirs still take +toll, and the sons of the navvies who dug it and of the engineer who +designed it pay the toll when they have occasion to travel by it, or +to purchase goods which have been conveyed along it. I remember my +grandfather well. He was a well-bred man, and a perfect gentleman in his +manners; but, on the whole, I think he was wickeder than my father, who, +after all, was caught in the wheels of a vicious system, and had either +to spoil others or be spoiled by them. But my grandfather--the old +rascal!--was in no such dilemma. Master as he was of his bit of merry +England, no man could have enslaved him, and he might at least have +lived and let live. My father followed his example in the matter of the +deer forest, but that was the climax of his wickedness, whereas it was +only the beginning of my grandfather’s. Howbeit, whichever bears the +palm, there they were, the types after which we all strive.” + +“Not all, Sidney. Not we two. I hate tradespeople and country squires. +We belong to the artistic and cultured classes, and we can keep aloof +from shopkeepers.” + +“Living, meanwhile, at the rate of several thousand a year on rent and +interest. No, my dear, this is the way of those people who insist that +when they are in heaven they shall be spared the recollection of such a +place as hell, but are quite content that it shall exist outside their +consciousness. I respect my father more--I mean I despise him less--for +doing his own sweating and filching than I do the sensitive sluggards +and cowards who lent him their money to sweat and filch with, and asked +no questions provided the interest was paid punctually. And as to your +friends the artists, they are the worst of all.” + +“Oh, Sidney, you are determined not to be pleased. Artists don’t keep +factories.” + +“No; but the factory is only a part of the machinery of the system. +Its basis is the tyranny of brain force, which, among civilized men, is +allowed to do what muscular force does among schoolboys and savages. The +schoolboy proposition is: ‘I am stronger than you, therefore you shall +fag for me.’ Its grown up form is: ‘I am cleverer than you, therefore +you shall fag for me.’ The state of things we produce by submitting to +this, bad enough even at first, becomes intolerable when the mediocre or +foolish descendants of the clever fellows claim to have inherited their +privileges. Now, no men are greater sticklers for the arbitrary dominion +of genius and talent than your artists. The great painter is not +satisfied with being sought after and admired because his hands can do +more than ordinary hands, which they truly can, but he wants to be fed +as if his stomach needed more food than ordinary stomachs, which it does +not. A day’s work is a day’s work, neither more nor less, and the man +who does it needs a day’s sustenance, a night’s repose, and due leisure, +whether he be painter or ploughman. But the rascal of a painter, +poet, novelist, or other voluptuary in labor, is not content with +his advantage in popular esteem over the ploughman; he also wants an +advantage in money, as if there were more hours in a day spent in the +studio or library than in the field; or as if he needed more food to +enable him to do his work than the ploughman to enable him to do his. He +talks of the higher quality of his work, as if the higher quality of it +were of his own making--as if it gave him a right to work less for his +neighbor than his neighbor works for him--as if the ploughman could not +do better without him than he without the ploughman--as if the value of +the most celebrated pictures has not been questioned more than that +of any straight furrow in the arable world--as if it did not take an +apprenticeship of as many years to train the hand and eye of a mason or +blacksmith as of an artist--as if, in short, the fellow were a god, as +canting brain worshippers have for years past been assuring him he is. +Artists are the high priests of the modern Moloch. Nine out of ten of +them are diseased creatures, just sane enough to trade on their own +neuroses. The only quality of theirs which extorts my respect is a +certain sublime selfishness which makes them willing to starve and to +let their families starve sooner than do any work they don’t like.” + +“INDEED you are quite wrong, Sidney. There was a girl at the Slade +school who supported her mother and two sisters by her drawing. Besides, +what can you do? People were made so.” + +“Yes; I was made a landlord and capitalist by the folly of the people; +but they can unmake me if they will. Meanwhile I have absolutely no +means of escape from my position except by giving away my slaves to +fellows who will use them no better than I, and becoming a slave myself; +which, if you please, you shall not catch me doing in a hurry. No, my +beloved, I must keep my foot on their necks for your sake as well as for +my own. But you do not care about all this prosy stuff. I am consumed +with remorse for having bored my darling. You want to know why I am +living here like a hermit in a vulgar two-roomed hovel instead of +tasting the delights of London society with my beautiful and devoted +young wife.” + +“But you don’t intend to stay here, Sidney?” + +“Yes, I do; and I will tell you why. I am helping to liberate those +Manchester laborers who were my father’s slaves. To bring that +about, their fellow slaves all over the world must unite in a vast +international association of men pledged to share the world’s work +justly; to share the produce of the work justly; to yield not a +farthing--charity apart--to any full-grown and able-bodied idler +or malingerer, and to treat as vermin in the commonwealth persons +attempting to get more than their share of wealth or give less than +their share of work. This is a very difficult thing to accomplish, +because working-men, like the people called their betters, do not always +understand their own interests, and will often actually help their +oppressors to exterminate their saviours to the tune of ‘Rule +Britannia,’ or some such lying doggerel. We must educate them out of +that, and, meanwhile, push forward the international association +of laborers diligently. I am at present occupied in propagating its +principles. Capitalism, organized for repressive purposes under pretext +of governing the nation, would very soon stop the association if it +understood our aim, but it thinks that we are engaged in gunpowder plots +and conspiracies to assassinate crowned heads; and so, whilst the police +are blundering in search of evidence of these, our real work goes on +unmolested. Whether I am really advancing the cause is more than I can +say. I use heaps of postage stamps, pay the expenses of many indifferent +lecturers, defray the cost of printing reams of pamphlets and hand-bills +which hail the laborer flatteringly as the salt of the earth, write and +edit a little socialist journal, and do what lies in my power generally. +I had rather spend my ill-gotten wealth in this way than upon an +expensive house and a retinue of servants. And I prefer my corduroys and +my two-roomed chalet here to our pretty little house, and your pretty +little ways, and my pretty little neglect of the work that my heart is +set upon. Some day, perhaps, I will take a holiday; and then we shall +have a new honeymoon.” + +For a moment Henrietta seemed about to cry. Suddenly she exclaimed +with enthusiasm: “I will stay with you, Sidney. I will share your work, +whatever it may be. I will dress as a dairymaid, and have a little pail +to carry milk in. The world is nothing to me except when you are with +me; and I should love to live here and sketch from nature.” + +He blenched, and partially rose, unable to conceal his dismay. She, +resolved not to be cast off, seized him and clung to him. This was the +movement that excited the derision of Wickens’s boy in the adjacent +gravel pit. Trefusis was glad of the interruption; and, when he gave +the boy twopence and bade him begone, half hoped that he would insist +on remaining. But though an obdurate boy on most occasions, he proved +complaisant on this, and withdrew to the high road, where he made over +one of his pennies to a phantom gambler, and tossed with him until +recalled from his dual state by the appearance of Fairholme’s party. + +In the meantime, Henrietta urgently returned to her proposition. + +“We should be so happy,” she said. “I would housekeep for you, and you +could work as much as you pleased. Our life would be a long idyll.” + +“My love,” he said, shaking his head as she looked beseechingly at him, +“I have too much Manchester cotton in my constitution for long idylls. +And the truth is, that the first condition of work with me is your +absence. When you are with me, I can do nothing but make love to you. +You bewitch me. When I escape from you for a moment, it is only to groan +remorsefully over the hours you have tempted me to waste and the energy +you have futilized.” + +“If you won’t live with me you had no right to marry me.” + +“True. But that is neither your fault nor mine. We have found that +we love each other too much--that our intercourse hinders our +usefulness--and so we must part. Not for ever, my dear; only until you +have cares and business of your own to fill up your life and prevent you +from wasting mine.” + +“I believe you are mad,” she said petulantly. “The world is mad +nowadays, and is galloping to the deuce as fast as greed can goad it. I +merely stand out of the rush, not liking its destination. Here comes a +barge, the commander of which is devoted to me because he believes that +I am organizing a revolution for the abolition of lock dues and tolls. +We will go aboard and float down to Lyvern, whence you can return to +London. You had better telegraph from the junction to the college; +there must be a hue and cry out after us by this time. You shall have my +address, and we can write to one another or see one another whenever we +please. Or you can divorce me for deserting you.” + +“You would like me to, I know,” said Henrietta, sobbing. + +“I should die of despair, my darling,” he said complacently. “Ship +aho-o-o-y! Stop crying, Hetty, for God’s sake. You lacerate my very +soul.” + +“Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-oy, master!” roared the bargee. + +“Good arternoon, sir,” said a man who, with a short whip in his hand, +trudged beside the white horse that towed the barge. “Come up!” he added +malevolently to the horse. + +“I want to get on board, and go up to Lyvern with you,” said Trefusis. +“He seems a well fed brute, that.” + +“Better fed nor me,” said the man. “You can’t get the work out of a +hunderfed ‘orse that you can out of a hunderfed man or woman. I’ve bin +in parts of England where women pulled the barges. They come cheaper nor +‘orses, because it didn’t cost nothing to get new ones when the old ones +we wore out.” + +“Then why not employ them?” said Trefusis, with ironical gravity. “The +principle of buying laborforce in the cheapest market and selling its +product in the dearest has done much to make Englishmen--what they are.” + +“The railway comp’nies keeps ‘orspittles for the like of ‘IM,” said the +man, with a cunning laugh, indicating the horse by smacking him on the +belly with the butt of the whip. “If ever you try bein’ a laborer in +earnest, governor, try it on four legs. You’ll find it far preferable to +trying on two.” + +“This man is one of my converts,” said Trefusis apart to Henrietta. +“He told me the other day that since I set him thinking he never sees a +gentleman without feeling inclined to heave a brick at him. I find that +socialism is often misunderstood by its least intelligent supporters +and opponents to mean simply unrestrained indulgence of our natural +propensity to heave bricks at respectable persons. Now I am going to +carry you along this plank. If you keep quiet, we may reach the barge. +If not, we shall reach the bottom of the canal.” + +He carried her safely over, and exchanged some friendly words with the +bargee. Then he took Henrietta forward, and stood watching the water +as they were borne along noiselessly between the hilly pastures of the +country. + +“This would be a fairy journey,” he said, “if one could forget the woman +down below, cooking her husband’s dinner in a stifling hole about as big +as your wardrobe, and--” + +“Oh, don’t talk any more of these things,” she said crossly; “I cannot +help them. I have my own troubles to think of. HER husband lives with +her.” + +“She will change places with you, my dear, if you make her the offer.” + +She had no answer ready. After a pause he began to speak poetically of +the scenery and to offer her loverlike speeches and compliments. But she +felt that he intended to get rid of her, and he knew that it was useless +to try to hide that design from her. She turned away and sat down on a +pile of bricks, only writhing angrily when he pressed her for a word. +As they neared the end of her voyage, and her intense protest against +desertion remained, as she thought, only half expressed, her sense of +injury grew almost unbearable. + +They landed on a wharf, and went through an unswept, deeply-rutted lane +up to the main street of Lyvern. Here he became Smilash again, walking +deferentially a little before her, as if she had hired him to point out +the way. She then saw that her last opportunity of appealing to him had +gone by, and she nearly burst into tears at the thought. It occurred to +her that she might prevail upon him by making a scene in public. But +the street was a busy one, and she was a little afraid of him. Neither +consideration would have checked her in one of her ungovernable moods, +but now she was in an abject one. Her moods seemed to come only when +they were harmful to her. She suffered herself to be put into the +railway omnibus, which was on the point of starting from the innyard +when they arrived there, and though he touched his hat, asked whether +she had any message to give him, and in a tender whisper wished her a +safe journey, she would not look at or speak to him. So they parted, +and he returned alone to the chalet, where he was received by the two +policemen who subsequently brought him to the college. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The year wore on, and the long winter evenings set in. The studious +young ladies at Alton College, elbows on desk and hands over ears, +shuddered chillily in fur tippets whilst they loaded their memories with +the statements of writers on moral science, or, like men who swim upon +corks, reasoned out mathematical problems upon postulates. Whence +it sometimes happened that the more reasonable a student was in +mathematics, the more unreasonable she was in the affairs of real life, +concerning which few trustworthy postulates have yet been ascertained. + +Agatha, not studious, and apt to shiver in winter, began to break Rule +No. 17 with increasing frequency. Rule No. 17 forbade the students +to enter the kitchen, or in any way to disturb the servants in the +discharge of their duties. Agatha broke it because she was fond of +making toffee, of eating it, of a good fire, of doing any forbidden +thing, and of the admiration with which the servants listened to her +ventriloquial and musical feats. Gertrude accompanied her because she +too liked toffee, and because she plumed herself on her condescension to +her inferiors. Jane went because her two friends went, and the spirit +of adventure, the force of example, and the love of toffee often brought +more volunteers to these expeditions than Agatha thought it safe to +enlist. One evening Miss Wilson, going downstairs alone to her private +wine cellar, was arrested near the kitchen by sounds of revelry, and, +stopping to listen, overheard the castanet dance (which reminded her of +the emphasis with which Agatha had snapped her fingers at Mrs. Miller), +the bee on the window pane, “Robin Adair” (encored by the servants), +and an imitation of herself in the act of appealing to Jane Carpenter’s +better nature to induce her to study for the Cambridge Local. She waited +until the cold and her fear of being discovered spying forced her to +creep upstairs, ashamed of having enjoyed a silly entertainment, and of +conniving at a breach of the rules rather than face a fresh quarrel with +Agatha. + +There was one particular in which matters between Agatha and the college +discipline did not go on exactly as before. Although she had formerly +supplied a disproportionately large number of the confessions in the +fault book, the entry which had nearly led to her expulsion was the last +she ever made in it. Not that her conduct was better--it was rather the +reverse. Miss Wilson never mentioned the matter, the fault book being +sacred from all allusion on her part. But she saw that though Agatha +would not confess her own sins, she still assisted others to unburden +their consciences. The witticisms with which Jane unsuspectingly +enlivened the pages of the Recording Angel were conclusive on this +point. + +Smilash had now adopted a profession. In the last days of autumn he +had whitewashed the chalet, painted the doors, windows, and veranda, +repaired the roof and interior, and improved the place so much that the +landlord had warned him that the rent would be raised at the expiration +of his twelvemonth’s tenancy, remarking that a tenant could not +reasonably expect to have a pretty, rain-tight dwelling-house for the +same money as a hardly habitable ruin. Smilash had immediately promised +to dilapidate it to its former state at the end of the year. He had +put up a board at the gate with an inscription copied from some printed +cards which he presented to persons who happened to converse with him. + + ***** + +JEFFERSON SMILASH + +PAINTER, DECORATOR, GLAZIER, PLUMBER & GARDENER. Pianofortes tuned. +Domestic engineering in all its Branches. Families waited upon at table +or otherwise. + +CHAMOUNIX VILLA, LYVERN. (N.B. Advice Gratis. No Reasonable offer +refused.) + + ***** + +The business thus announced, comprehensive as it was, did not +flourish. When asked by the curious for testimony to his competence and +respectability, he recklessly referred them to Fairholme, to Josephs, +and in particular to Miss Wilson, who, he said, had known him from his +earliest childhood. Fairholme, glad of an opportunity to show that he +was no mealy mouthed parson, declared, when applied to, that Smilash was +the greatest rogue in the country. Josephs, partly from benevolence, and +partly from a vague fear that Smilash might at any moment take an action +against him for defamation of character, said he had no doubt that he +was a very cheap workman, and that it would be a charity to give him +some little job to encourage him. Miss Wilson confirmed Fairholme’s +account; and the church organist, who had tuned all the pianofortes +in the neighborhood once a year for nearly a quarter of a century, +denounced the newcomer as Jack of all trades and master of none. +Hereupon the radicals of Lyvern, a small and disreputable party, began +to assert that there was no harm in the man, and that the parsons and +Miss Wilson, who lived in a fine house and did nothing but take in the +daughters of rich swells as boarders, might employ their leisure better +than in taking the bread out of a poor work man’s mouth. But as none of +this faction needed the services of a domestic engineer, he was none +the richer for their support, and the only patron he obtained was +a housemaid who was leaving her situation at a country house in the +vicinity, and wanted her box repaired, the lid having fallen off. +Smilash demanded half-a-crown for the job, but on her demurring, +immediately apologized and came down to a shilling. For this sum he +repainted the box, traced her initials on it, and affixed new hinges, +a Bramah lock, and brass handles, at a cost to himself of ten shillings +and several hours’ labor. The housemaid found fault with the color of +the paint, made him take off the handles, which, she said, reminded her +of a coffin, complained that a lock with such a small key couldn’t be +strong enough for a large box, but admitted that it was all her own +fault for not employing a proper man. It got about that he had made +a poor job of the box; and as he, when taxed with this, emphatically +confirmed it, he got no other commission; and his signboard served +thenceforth only for the amusement of pedestrian tourists and of +shepherd boys with a taste for stone throwing. + +One night a great storm blew over Lyvern, and those young ladies at +Alton College who were afraid of lightning, said their prayers with some +earnestness. At half-past twelve the rain, wind, and thunder made such +a din that Agatha and Gertrude wrapped themselves in shawls, stole +downstairs to the window on the landing outside Miss Wilson’s study, +and stood watching the flashes give vivid glimpses of the landscape, and +discussing in whispers whether it was dangerous to stand near a window, +and whether brass stair-rods could attract lightning. Agatha, as +serious and friendly with a single companion as she was mischievous +and satirical before a larger audience, enjoyed the scene quietly. The +lightning did not terrify her, for she knew little of the value of life, +and fancied much concerning the heroism of being indifferent to it. The +tremors which the more startling flashes caused her, only made her more +conscious of her own courage and its contrast with the uneasiness of +Gertrude, who at last, shrinking from a forked zigzag of blue flame, +said: + +“Let us go back to bed, Agatha. I feel sure that we are not safe here.” + +“Quite as safe as in bed, where we cannot see anything. How the house +shakes! I believe the rain will batter in the windows before--” + +“Hush,” whispered Gertrude, catching her arm in terror. “What was that?” + +“What?” + +“I am sure I heard the bell--the gate bell. Oh, do let us go back to +bed.” + +“Nonsense! Who would be out on such a night as this? Perhaps the wind +rang it.” + +They waited for a few moments; Gertrude trembling, and Agatha feeling, +as she listened in the darkness, a sensation familiar to persons who are +afraid of ghosts. Presently a veiled clangor mingled with the wind. A +few sharp and urgent snatches of it came unmistakably from the bell at +the gate of the college grounds. It was a loud bell, used to summon +a servant from the college to open the gates; for though there was a +porter’s lodge, it was uninhabited. + +“Who on earth can it be?” said Agatha. “Can’t they find the wicket, the +idiots?” + +“Oh, I hope not! Do come upstairs, Agatha.” + +“No, I won’t. Go you, if you like.” But Gertrude was afraid to go +alone. “I think I had better waken Miss Wilson, and tell her,” continued +Agatha. “It seems awful to shut anybody out on such a night as this.” + +“But we don’t know who it is.” + +“Well, I suppose you are not afraid of them, in any case,” said Agatha, +knowing the contrary, but recognizing the convenience of shaming +Gertrude into silence. + +They listened again. The storm was now very boisterous, and they could +not hear the bell. Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the house door. +Gertrude screamed, and her cry was echoed from the rooms above, where +several girls had heard the knocking also, and had been driven by it +into the state of mind which accompanies the climax of a nightmare. Then +a candle flickered on the stairs, and Miss Wilson’s voice, reassuringly +firm, was heard. + +“Who is that?” + +“It is I, Miss Wilson, and Gertrude. We have been watching the storm, +and there is some one knocking at the--” A tremendous battery with +the knocker, followed by a sound, confused by the gale, as of a man +shouting, interrupted her. + +“They had better not open the door,” said Miss Wilson, in some alarm. +“You are very imprudent, Agatha, to stand here. You will catch your +death of--Dear me! What can be the matter? She hurried down, followed +by Agatha, Gertrude, and some of the braver students, to the hall, where +they found a few shivering servants watching the housekeeper, who was at +the keyhole of the house door, querulously asking who was there. She +was evidently not heard by those without, for the knocking recommenced +whilst she was speaking, and she recoiled as if she had received a blow +on the mouth. Miss Wilson then rattled the chain to attract attention, +and demanded again who was there. + +“Let us in,” was returned in a hollow shout through the keyhole. “There +is a dying woman and three children here. Open the door.” + +Miss Wilson lost her presence of mind. To gain time, she replied, “I--I +can’t hear you. What do you say?” + +“Damnation!” said the voice, speaking this time to some one outside. +“They can’t hear.” And the knocking recommenced with increased urgency. +Agatha, excited, caught Miss Wilson’s dressing gown, and repeated to her +what the voice had said. Miss Wilson had heard distinctly enough, and +she felt, without knowing clearly why, that the door must be opened, but +she was almost over-mastered by a vague dread of what was to follow. She +began to undo the chain, and Agatha helped with the bolts. Two of the +servants exclaimed that they were all about to be murdered in their +beds, and ran away. A few of the students seemed inclined to follow +their example. At last the door, loosed, was blown wide open, flinging +Miss Wilson and Agatha back, and admitting a whirlwind that tore round +the hall, snatched at the women’s draperies, and blew out the lights. +Agatha, by a hash of lightning, saw for an instant two men straining at +the door like sailors at a capstan. Then she knew by the cessation of +the whirlwind that they had shut it. Matches were struck, the candles +relighted, and the newcomers clearly perceived. + +Smilash, bareheaded, without a coat, his corduroy vest and trousers +heavy with rain; a rough-looking, middle-aged man, poorly dressed like +a shepherd, wet as Smilash, with the expression, piteous, patient, and +desperate, of one hard driven by ill-fortune, and at the end of his +resources; two little children, a boy and a girl, almost naked, cowering +under an old sack that had served them as an umbrella; and, lying on +the settee where the two men had laid it, a heap of wretched wearing +apparel, sacking, and rotten matting, with Smilash’s coat and +sou’wester, the whole covering a bundle which presently proved to be an +exhausted woman with a tiny infant at her breast. Smilash’s expression, +as he looked at her, was ferocious. + +“Sorry fur to trouble you, lady,” said the man, after glancing anxiously +at Smilash, as if he had expected him to act as spokesman; “but my roof +and the side of my house has gone in the storm, and my missus has been +having another little one, and I am sorry to ill-convenience you, Miss; +but--but--” + +“Inconvenience!” exclaimed Smilash. “It is the lady’s privilege to +relieve you--her highest privilege!” + +The little boy here began to cry from mere misery, and the woman roused +herself to say, “For shame, Tom! before the lady,” and then collapsed, +too weak to care for what might happen next in the world. Smilash looked +impatiently at Miss Wilson, who hesitated, and said to him: + +“What do you expect me to do?” + +“To help us,” he replied. Then, with an explosion of nervous energy, +he added: “Do what your heart tells you to do. Give your bed and your +clothes to the woman, and let your girls pitch their books to the devil +for a few days and make something for these poor little creatures to +wear. The poor have worked hard enough to clothe THEM. Let them take +their turn now and clothe the poor.” + +“No, no. Steady, master,” said the man, stepping forward to propitiate +Miss Wilson, and evidently much oppressed by a sense of unwelcomeness. +“It ain’t any fault of the lady’s. Might I make so bold as to ask you +to put this woman of mine anywhere that may be convenient until morning. +Any sort of a place will do; she’s accustomed to rough it. Just to have +a roof over her until I find a room in the village where we can shake +down.” Here, led by his own words to contemplate the future, he looked +desolately round the cornice of the hall, as if it were a shelf on which +somebody might have left a suitable lodging for him. + +Miss Wilson turned her back decisively and contemptuously on Smilash. +She had recovered herself. “I will keep your wife here,” she said to the +man. “Every care shall be taken of her. The children can stay too.” + +“Three cheers for moral science!” cried Smilash, ecstatically breaking +into the outrageous dialect he had forgotten in his wrath. “Wot was my +words to you, neighbor, when I said we should bring your missus to the +college, and you said, ironical-like, ‘Aye, and bloomin’ glad they’ll be +to see us there.’ Did I not say to you that the lady had a noble ‘art, +and would show it when put to the test by sech a calamity as this?” + +“Why should you bring my hasty words up again’ me now, master, when the +lady has been so kind?” said the man with emotion. “I am humbly grateful +to you, Miss; and so is Bess. We are sensible of the ill-convenience +we--” + +Miss Wilson, who had been conferring with the housekeeper, cut his +speech short by ordering him to carry his wife to bed, which he did with +the assistance of Smilash, now jubilant. Whilst they were away, one +of the servants, bidden to bring some blankets to the woman’s room, +refused, saying that she was not going to wait on that sort of people. +Miss Wilson gave her warning almost fiercely to quit the college next +day. This excepted, no ill-will was shown to the refugees. The young +ladies were then requested to return to bed. + +Meanwhile the man, having laid his wife in a chamber palatial in +comparison with that which the storm had blown about her ears, was +congratulating her on her luck, and threatening the children with the +most violent chastisement if they failed to behave themselves with +strict propriety whilst they remained in that house. Before leaving them +he kissed his wife; and she, reviving, asked him to look at the baby. +He did so, and pensively apostrophized it with a shocking epithet in +anticipation of the time when its appetite must be satisfied from the +provision shop instead of from its mother’s breast. She laughed and +cried shame on him; and so they parted cheerfully. When he returned to +the hall with Smilash they found two mugs of beer waiting for them. The +girls had retired, and only Miss Wilson and the housekeeper remained. + +“Here’s your health, mum,” said the man, before drinking; “and may you +find such another as yourself to help you when you’re in trouble, which +Lord send may never come!” + +“Is your house quite destroyed?” said Miss Wilson. “Where will you spend +the night?” + +“Don’t you think of me, mum. Master Smilash here will kindly put me up +‘til morning.” + +“His health!” said Smilash, touching the mug with his lips. + +“The roof and south wall is browed right away,” continued the man, +after pausing for a moment to puzzle over Smilash’s meaning. “I doubt if +there’s a stone of it standing by this.” + +“But Sir John will build it for you again. You are one of his herds, are +you not?” + +“I am, Miss. But not he; he’ll be glad it’s down. He don’t like people +livin’ on the land. I have told him time and again that the place was +ready to fall; but he said I couldn’t expect him to lay out money on a +house that he got no rent for. You see, Miss, I didn’t pay any rent. I +took low wages; and the bit of a hut was a sort of set-off again’ what I +was paid short of the other men. I couldn’t afford to have it repaired, +though I did what I could to patch and prop it. And now most like I +shall be blamed for letting it be blew down, and shall have to live in +half a room in the town and pay two or three shillin’s a week, besides +walkin’ three miles to and from my work every day. A gentleman like Sir +John don’t hardly know what the value of a penny is to us laborin’ folk, +nor how cruel hard his estate rules and the like comes on us.” + +“Sir John’s health!” said Smilash, touching the mug as before. The man +drank a mouthful humbly, and Smilash continued, “Here’s to the glorious +landed gentry of old England: bless ‘em!” + +“Master Smilash is only jokin’,” said the man apologetically. “It’s his +way.” + +“You should not bring a family into the world if you are so poor,” said +Miss Wilson severely. “Can you not see that you impoverish yourself by +doing so--to put the matter on no higher grounds.” + +“Reverend Mr. Malthus’s health!” remarked Smilash, repeating his +pantomime. + +“Some say it’s the children, and some say it’s the drink, Miss,” said +the man submissively. “But from what I see, family or no family, drunk +or sober, the poor gets poorer and the rich richer every day.” + +“Ain’t it disgustin’ to hear a man so ignorant of the improvement in the +condition of his class?” said Smilash, appealing to Miss Wilson. + +“If you intend to take this man home with you,” she said, turning +sharply on him, “you had better do it at once.” + +“I take it kind on your part that you ask me to do anythink, after your +up and telling Mr. Wickens that I am the last person in Lyvern you would +trust with a job.” + +“So you are--the very last. Why don’t you drink your beer?” + +“Not in scorn of your brewing, lady; but because, bein’ a common man, +water is good enough for me.” + +“I wish you good-night, Miss,” said the man; “and thank you kindly for +Bess and the children.” + +“Good-night,” she replied, stepping aside to avoid any salutation from +Smilash. But he went up to her and said in a low voice, and with the +Trefusis manner and accent: + +“Good-night, Miss Wilson. If you should ever be in want of the services +of a dog, a man, or a domestic engineer, remind Smilash of Bess and the +children, and he will act for you in any of those capacities.” + +They opened the door cautiously, and found that the wind, conquered by +the rain, had abated. Miss Wilson’s candle, though it flickered in the +draught, was not extinguished this time; and she was presently left with +the housekeeper, bolting and chaining the door, and listening to the +crunching of feet on the gravel outside dying away through the steady +pattering of the rain. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +Agatha was at this time in her seventeenth year. She had a lively +perception of the foibles of others, and no reverence for her +seniors, whom she thought dull, cautious, and ridiculously amenable by +commonplaces. But she was subject to the illusion which disables youth +in spite of its superiority to age. She thought herself an exception. +Crediting Mr. Jansenius and the general mob of mankind with nothing +but a grovelling consciousness of some few material facts, she felt +in herself an exquisite sense and all-embracing conception of nature, +shared only by her favorite poets and heroes of romance and history. +Hence she was in the common youthful case of being a much better judge +of other people’s affairs than of her own. At the fellow-student who +adored some Henry or Augustus, not from the drivelling sentimentality +which the world calls love, but because this particular Henry or +Augustus was a phoenix to whom the laws that govern the relations of +ordinary lads and lasses did not apply, Agatha laughed in her sleeve. +The more she saw of this weakness in her fellows, the more satisfied she +was that, being forewarned, she was also forearmed against an attack of +it on herself, much as if a doctor were to conclude that he could not +catch smallpox because he had seen many cases of it; or as if a master +mariner, knowing that many ships are wrecked in the British channel, +should venture there without a pilot, thinking that he knew its perils +too well to run any risk of them. Yet, as the doctor might hold such +an opinion if he believed himself to be constituted differently from +ordinary men; or the shipmaster adopt such a course under the impression +that his vessel was a star, Agatha found false security in the +subjective difference between her fellows seen from without and herself +known from within. When, for instance, she fell in love with Mr. +Jefferson Smilash (a step upon which she resolved the day after the +storm), her imagination invested the pleasing emotion with a sacredness +which, to her, set it far apart and distinct from the frivolous fancies +of which Henry and Augustus had been the subject, and she the confidant. + +“I can look at him quite coolly and dispassionately,” she said to +herself. “Though his face has a strange influence that must, I know, +correspond to some unexplained power within me, yet it is not a perfect +face. I have seen many men who are, strictly speaking, far handsomer. If +the light that never was on sea or land is in his eyes, yet they are +not pretty eyes--not half so clear as mine. Though he wears his common +clothes with a nameless grace that betrays his true breeding at every +step, yet he is not tall, dark, and melancholy, as my ideal hero would +be if I were as great a fool as girls of my age usually are. If I am in +love, I have sense enough not to let my love blind my judgment.” + +She did not tell anyone of her new interest in life. Strongest in that +student community, she had used her power with good-nature enough to +win the popularity of a school leader, and occasionally with +unscrupulousness enough to secure the privileges of a school bully. +Popularity and privilege, however, only satisfied her when she was in +the mood for them. Girls, like men, want to be petted, pitied, and made +much of, when they are diffident, in low spirits, or in unrequited love. +These are services which the weak cannot render to the strong and which +the strong will not render to the weak, except when there is also a +difference of sex. Agatha knew by experience that though a weak woman +cannot understand why her stronger sister should wish to lean upon her, +she may triumph in the fact without understanding it, and give chaff +instead of consolation. Agatha wanted to be understood and not to be +chaffed. Finding herself unable to satisfy both these conditions, she +resolved to do without sympathy and to hold her tongue. She had often +had to do so before, and she was helped on this occasion by a sense of +the ridiculous appearance her passion might wear in the vulgar eye. Her +secret kept itself, as she was supposed in the college to be insensible +to the softer emotions. Love wrought no external change upon her. It +made her believe that she had left her girlhood behind her and was now +a woman with a newly-developed heart capacity at which she would +childishly have scoffed a little while before. She felt ashamed of the +bee on the window pane, although it somehow buzzed as frequently as +before in spite of her. Her calendar, formerly a monotonous cycle of +class times, meal times, play times, and bed time, was now irregularly +divided by walks past the chalet and accidental glimpses of its tenant. + +Early in December came a black frost, and navigation on the canal +was suspended. Wickens’s boy was sent to the college with news that +Wickens’s pond would bear, and that the young ladies should be welcome +at any time. The pond was only four feet deep, and as Miss Wilson set +much store by the physical education of her pupils, leave was given for +skating. Agatha, who was expert on the ice, immediately proposed that a +select party should go out before breakfast next morning. Actions not in +themselves virtuous often appear so when performed at hours that compel +early rising, and some of the candidates for the Cambridge Local, who +would not have sacrificed the afternoon to amusement, at once fell in +with her suggestion. But for them it might never have been carried out; +for when they summoned Agatha, at half-past six next morning, to leave +her warm bed and brave the biting air, she would have refused without +hesitation had she not been shamed into compliance by these laborious +ones who stood by her bedside, blue-nosed and hungry, but ready for the +ice. When she had dressed herself with much shuddering and chattering, +they allayed their internal discomfort by a slender meal of biscuits, +got their skates, and went out across the rimy meadows, past patient +cows breathing clouds of steam, to Wickens’s pond. Here, to their +surprise, was Smilash, on electro-plated acme skates, practicing +complicated figures with intense diligence. It soon appeared that his +skill came short of his ambition; for, after several narrow escapes and +some frantic staggering, his calves, elbows, and occiput smote the ice +almost simultaneously. On rising ruefully to a sitting posture he +became aware that eight young ladies were watching his proceedings with +interest. + +“This comes of a common man putting himself above his station by getting +into gentlemen’s skates,” he said. “Had I been content with a humble +slide, as my fathers was, I should ha’ been a happier man at the present +moment.” He sighed, rose, touched his hat to Miss Ward, and took off his +skates, adding: “Good-morning, Miss. Miss Wilson sent me word to be here +sharp at six to put on the young ladies’ skates, and I took the liberty +of trying a figure or two to keep out the cold.” + +“Miss Wilson did not tell me that she ordered you to come,” said Miss +Ward. + +“Just like her to be thoughtful and yet not let on to be! She is a +kind lady, and a learned--like yourself, Miss. Sit yourself down on the +camp-stool and give me your heel, if I may be so bold as to stick a +gimlet into it.” + +His assistance was welcome, and Miss Ward allowed him to put on her +skates. She was a Canadian, and could skate well. Jane, the first +to follow her, was anxious as to the strength of the ice; but when +reassured, she acquitted herself admirably, for she was proficient in +outdoor exercises, and had the satisfaction of laughing in the field at +those who laughed at her in the study. Agatha, contrary to her custom, +gave way to her companions, and her boots were the last upon which +Smilash operated. + +“How d’you do, Miss Wylie?” he said, dropping the Smilash manner now +that the rest were out of earshot. + +“I am very well, thank you,” said Agatha, shy and constrained. This +phase of her being new to him, he paused with her heel in his hand and +looked up at her curiously. She collected herself, returned his gaze +steadily, and said: “How did Miss Wilson send you word to come? She only +knew of our party at half-past nine last night.” + +“Miss Wilson did not send for me.” + +“But you have just told Miss Ward that she did.” + +“Yes. I find it necessary to tell almost as many lies now that I am a +simple laborer as I did when I was a gentleman. More, in fact.” + +“I shall know how much to believe of what you say in the future.” + +“The truth is this. I am perhaps the worst skater in the world, and +therefore, according to a natural law, I covet the faintest distinction +on the ice more than immortal fame for the things in which nature has +given me aptitude to excel. I envy that large friend of yours--Jane +is her name, I think--more than I envy Plato. I came down here this +morning, thinking that the skating world was all a-bed, to practice in +secret.” + +“I am glad we caught you at it,” said Agatha maliciously, for he was +disappointing her. She wanted him to be heroic in his conversation; and +he would not. + +“I suppose so,” he replied. “I have observed that Woman’s dearest +delight is to wound Man’s self-conceit, though Man’s dearest delight is +to gratify hers. There is at least one creature lower than Man. Now, off +with you. Shall I hold you until your ankles get firm?” + +“Thank you,” she said, disgusted: “_I_ can skate pretty well, and I +don’t think you could give me any useful assistance.” And she went off +cautiously, feeling that a mishap would be very disgraceful after such a +speech. + +He stood on the shore, listening to the grinding, swaying sound of the +skates, and watching the growing complexity of the curves they were +engraving on the ice. As the girls grew warm and accustomed to the +exercise they laughed, jested, screamed recklessly when they came into +collision, and sailed before the wind down the whole length of the pond +at perilous speed. The more animated they became, the gloomier looked +Smilash. “Not two-penn’orth of choice between them and a parcel of +puppies,” he said; “except that some of them are conscious that there +is a man looking at them, although he is only a blackguard laborer. They +remind me of Henrietta in a hundred ways. Would I laugh, now, if the +whole sheet of ice were to burst into little bits under them?” + +Just then the ice cracked with a startling report, and the skaters, +except Jane, skimmed away in all directions. + +“You are breaking the ice to pieces, Jane,” said Agatha, calling from a +safe distance. “How can you expect it to bear your weight?” + +“Pack of fools!” retorted Jane indignantly. “The noise only shows how +strong it is.” + +The shock which the report had given Smilash answered him his question. +“Make a note that wishes for the destruction of the human race, however +rational and sincere, are contrary to nature,” he said, recovering his +spirits. “Besides, what a precious fool I should be if I were working at +an international association of creatures only fit for destruction! Hi, +lady! One word, Miss!” This was to Miss Ward, who had skated into his +neighborhood. “It bein’ a cold morning, and me havin’ a poor and common +circulation, would it be looked on as a liberty if I was to cut a slide +here or take a turn in the corner all to myself?” + +“You may skate over there if you wish,” she said, after a pause for +consideration, pointing to a deserted spot at the leeward end of the +pond, where the ice was too rough for comfortable skating. + +“Nobly spoke!” he cried, with a grin, hurrying to the place indicated, +where, skating being out of the question, he made a pair of slides, +and gravely exercised himself upon them until his face glowed and his +fingers tingled in the frosty air. The time passed quickly; when Miss +Ward sent for him to take off her skates there was a general groan and +declaration that it could not possibly be half-past eight o’clock yet. +Smilash knelt before the camp-stool, and was presently busy unbuckling +and unscrewing. When Jane’s turn came, the camp-stool creaked beneath +her weight. Agatha again remonstrated with her, but immediately +reproached herself with flippancy before Smilash, to whom she wished to +convey an impression of deep seriousness of character. + +“Smallest foot of the lot,” he said critically, holding Jane’s foot +between his finger and thumb as if it were an art treasure which he had +been invited to examine. “And belonging to the finest built lady.” + +Jane snatched away her foot, blushed, and said: + +“Indeed! What next, I wonder?” + +“T’other ‘un next,” he said, setting to work on the remaining skate. +When it was off, he looked up at her, and she darted a glance at him as +she rose which showed that his compliment (her feet were, in fact, small +and pretty) was appreciated. + +“Allow me, Miss,” he said to Gertrude, who was standing on one leg, +leaning on Agatha, and taking off her own skates. + +“No, thank you,” she said coldly. “I don’t need your assistance.” + +“I am well aware that the offer was overbold,” he replied, with a +self-complacency that made his profession of humility exasperating. “If +all the skates is off, I will, by Miss Wilson’s order, carry them and +the camp-stool back to the college.” + +Miss Ward handed him her skates and turned away. Gertrude placed hers +on the stool and went with Miss Ward. The rest followed, leaving him to +stare at the heap of skates and consider how he should carry them. He +could think of no better plan than to interlace the straps and hang them +in a chain over his shoulder. By the time he had done this the young +ladies were out of sight, and his intention of enjoying their society +during the return to the college was defeated. They had entered the +building long before he came in sight of it. + +Somewhat out of conceit with his folly, he went to the servants’ +entrance and rang the bell there. When the door was opened, he saw Miss +Ward standing behind the maid who admitted him. + +“Oh,” she said, looking at the string of skates as if she had hardly +expected to see them again, “so you have brought our things back?” + +“Such were my instructions,” he said, taken aback by her manner. “You +had no instructions. What do you mean by getting our skates into your +charge under false pretences? I was about to send the police to take +them from you. How dare you tell me that you were sent to wait on me, +when you know very well that you were nothing of the sort?” + +“I couldn’t help it, Miss,” he replied submissively. “I am a natural +born liar--always was. I know that it must appear dreadful to you that +never told a lie, and don’t hardly know what a lie is, belonging as you +do to a class where none is ever told. But common people like me tells +lies just as a duck swims. I ask your pardon, Miss, most humble, and I +hope the young ladies’ll be able to tell one set of skates from t’other; +for I’m blest if I can.” + +“Put them down. Miss Wilson wishes to speak to you before you go. Susan, +show him the way.” + +“Hope you ain’t been and got a poor cove into trouble, Miss?” + +“Miss Wilson knows how you have behaved.” + +He smiled at her benevolently and followed Susan upstairs. On their way +they met Jane, who stole a glance at him, and was about to pass by, when +he said: + +“Won’t you say a word to Miss Wilson for a poor common fellow, honored +young lady? I have got into dreadful trouble for having made bold to +assist you this morning.” + +“You needn’t give yourself the pains to talk like that,” replied Jane in +an impetuous whisper. “We all know that you’re only pretending.” + +“Well, you can guess my motive,” he whispered, looking tenderly at her. + +“Such stuff and nonsense! I never heard of such a thing in my life,” + said Jane, and ran away, plainly understanding that he had disguised +himself in order to obtain admission to the college and enjoy the +happiness of looking at her. + +“Cursed fool that I am!” he said to himself; “I cannot act like a +rational creature for five consecutive minutes.” + +The servant led him to the study and announced, “The man, if you please, +ma’am.” + +“Jeff Smilash,” he added in explanation. + +“Come in,” said Miss Wilson sternly. + +He went in, and met the determined frown which she cast on him from her +seat behind the writing table, by saying courteously: + +“Good-morning, Miss Wilson.” + +She bent forward involuntarily, as if to receive a gentleman. Then she +checked herself and looked implacable. + +“I have to apologize,” he said, “for making use of your name +unwarrantably this morning--telling a lie, in fact. I happened to +be skating when the young ladies came down, and as they needed +some assistance which they would hardly have accepted from a common +man--excuse my borrowing that tiresome expression from our acquaintance +Smilash--I set their minds at ease by saying that you had sent for me. +Otherwise, as you have given me a bad character--though not worse than +I deserve--they would probably have refused to employ me, or at least I +should have been compelled to accept payment, which I, of course, do not +need.” + +Miss Wilson affected surprise. “I do not understand you,” she said. + +“Not altogether,” he said smiling. “But you understand that I am what is +called a gentleman.” + +“No. The gentlemen with whom I am conversant do not dress as you dress, +nor speak as you speak, nor act as you act.” + +He looked at her, and her countenance confirmed the hostility of her +tone. He instantly relapsed into an aggravated phase of Smilash. + +“I will no longer attempt to set myself up as a gentleman,” he said. “I +am a common man, and your ladyship’s hi recognizes me as such and is not +to be deceived. But don’t go for to say that I am not candid when I am +as candid as ever you will let me be. What fault, if any, do you +find with my putting the skates on the young ladies, and carryin’ the +campstool for them?” + +“If you are a gentleman,” said Miss Wilson, reddening, “your conduct in +persisting in these antics in my presence is insulting to me. Extremely +so.” + +“Miss Wilson,” he replied, unruffled, “if you insist on Smilash, you +shall have Smilash; I take an insane pleasure in personating him. If you +want Sidney--my real Christian name--you can command him. But allow me +to say that you must have either one or the other. If you become frank +with me, I will understand that you are addressing Sidney. If distant +and severe, Smilash.” + +“No matter what your name may be,” said Miss Wilson, much annoyed, “I +forbid you to come here or to hold any communication whatever with the +young ladies in my charge.” + +“Why?” + +“Because I choose.” + +“There is much force in that reason, Miss Wilson; but it is not moral +force in the sense conveyed by your college prospectus, which I have +read with great interest.” + +Miss Wilson, since her quarrel with Agatha, had been sore on the +subject of moral force. “No one is admitted here,” she said, “without +a trustworthy introduction or recommendation. A disguise is not a +satisfactory substitute for either.” + +“Disguises are generally assumed for the purpose of concealing crime,” + he remarked sententiously. + +“Precisely so,” she said emphatically. + +“Therefore, I bear, to say the least, a doubtful character. +Nevertheless, I have formed with some of the students here a slight +acquaintance, of which, it seems, you disapprove. You have given me no +good reason why I should discontinue that acquaintance, and you +cannot control me except by your wish--a sort of influence not usually +effective with doubtful characters. Suppose I disregard your wish, and +that one or two of your pupils come to you and say: ‘Miss Wilson, in our +opinion Smilash is an excellent fellow; we find his conversation most +improving. As it is your principle to allow us to exercise our own +judgment, we intend to cultivate the acquaintance of Smilash.’ How will +you act in that case?” + +“Send them home to their parents at once.” + +“I see that your principles are those of the Church of England. You +allow the students the right of private judgment on condition that +they arrive at the same conclusions as you. Excuse my saying that the +principles of the Church of England, however excellent, are not those +your prospectus led me to hope for. Your plan is coercion, stark and +simple.” + +“I do not admit it,” said Miss Wilson, ready to argue, even with +Smilash, in defence of her system. “The girls are quite at liberty to +act as they please, but I reserve my equal liberty to exclude them from +my college if I do not approve of their behavior.” + +“Just so. In most schools children are perfectly at liberty to learn +their lessons or not, just as they please; but the principal reserves an +equal liberty to whip them if they cannot repeat their tasks.” + +“I do not whip my pupils,” said Miss Wilson indignantly. “The comparison +is an outrage.” + +“But you expel them; and, as they are devoted to you and to the place, +expulsion is a dreaded punishment. Yours is the old system of making +laws and enforcing them by penalties, and the superiority of Alton +College to other colleges is due, not to any difference of system, +but to the comparative reasonableness of its laws and the mildness and +judgment with which they are enforced.” + +“My system is radically different from the old one. However, I will not +discuss the matter with you. A mind occupied with the prejudices of the +old coercive despotism can naturally only see in the new a modification +of the old, instead of, as my system is, an entire reversal or +abandonment of it.” + +He shook his head sadly and said: “You seek to impose your ideas on +others, ostracizing those who reject them. Believe me, mankind has been +doing nothing else ever since it began to pay some attention to ideas. +It has been said that a benevolent despotism is the best possible form +of government. I do not believe that saying, because I believe another +one to the effect that hell is paved with benevolence, which most +people, the proverb being too deep for them, misinterpret as unfulfilled +intentions. As if a benevolent despot might not by any error of judgment +destroy his kingdom, and then say, like Romeo when he got his friend +killed, ‘I thought all for the best!’ Excuse my rambling. I meant to +say, in short, that though you are benevolent and judicious you are none +the less a despot.” + +Miss Wilson, at a loss for a reply, regretted that she had not, before +letting him gain so far on her, dismissed him summarily instead of +tolerating a discussion which she did not know how to end with dignity. +He relieved her by adding unexpectedly: + +“Your system was the cause of my absurd marriage. My wife acquired a +degree of culture and reasonableness from her training here which made +her seem a superior being among the chatterers who form the female +seasoning in ordinary society. I admired her dark eyes, and was only too +glad to seize the excuse her education offered me for believing her a +match for me in mind as well as in body.” + +Miss Wilson, astonished, determined to tell him coldly that her time was +valuable. But curiosity took possession of her in the act of utterance, +and the words that came were, “Who was she?” + +“Henrietta Jansenius. She is Henrietta Trefusis, and I am Sidney +Trefusis, at your mercy. I see I have aroused your compassion at last.” + +“Nonsense!” said Miss Wilson hastily; for her surprise was indeed tinged +by a feeling that he was thrown away on Henrietta. + +“I ran away from her and adopted this retreat and this disguise in order +to avoid her. The usual rebuke to human forethought followed. I ran +straight into her arms--or rather she ran into mine. You remember the +scene, and were probably puzzled by it.” + +“You seem to think your marriage contract a very light matter, Mr. +Trefusis. May I ask whose fault was the separation? Hers, of course.” + +“I have nothing to reproach her with. I expected to find her temper +hasty, but it was not so--her behavior was unexceptionable. So was mine. +Our bliss was perfect, but unfortunately, I was not made for domestic +bliss--at all events I could not endure it--so I fled, and when she +caught me again I could give no excuse for my flight, though I made it +clear to her that I would not resume our connubial relations just yet. +We parted on bad terms. I fully intended to write her a sweet letter +to make her forgive me in spite of herself, but somehow the weeks have +slipped away and I am still fully intending. She has never written, and +I have never written. This is a pretty state of things, isn’t it, Miss +Wilson, after all her advantages under the influence of moral force and +the movement for the higher education of women?” + +“By your own admission, the fault seems to lie upon your moral training +and not upon hers.” + +“The fault was in the conditions of our association. Why they should +have attracted me so strongly at first, and repelled me so horribly +afterwards, is one of those devil’s riddles which will not be answered +until we shall have traced all the yet unsuspected reactions of our +inveterate dishonesty. But I am wasting your time, I fear. You sent +for Smilash, and I have responded by practically annihilating him. In +public, however, you must still bear with his antics. One moment more. +I had forgotten to ask you whether you are interested in the shepherd +whose wife you sheltered on the night of the storm?” + +“He assured me, before he took his wife away, that he was comfortably +settled in a lodging in Lyvern.” + +“Yes. Very comfortably settled indeed. For half-a-crown a week he +obtained permission to share a spacious drawing-room with two other +families in a ten-roomed house in not much better repair than his +blown-down hovel. This house yields to its landlord over two hundred +a year, or rather more than the rent of a commodious mansion in South +Kensington. It is a troublesome rent to collect, but on the other +hand there is no expenditure for repairs or sanitation, which are not +considered necessary in tenement houses. Our friend has to walk three +miles to his work and three miles back. Exercise is a capital thing for +a student or a city clerk, but to a shepherd who has been in the fields +all day, a long walk at the end of his work is somewhat too much of a +good thing. He begged for an increase of wages to compensate him for +the loss of the hut, but Sir John pointed out to him that if he was not +satisfied his place could be easily filled by less exorbitant shepherds. +Sir John even condescended to explain that the laws of political economy +bind employers to buy labor in the cheapest market, and our poor friend, +just as ignorant of economics as Sir John, of course did not know that +this was untrue. However, as labor is actually so purchased everywhere +except in Downing Street and a few other privileged spots, I suggested +that our friend should go to some place where his market price would be +higher than in merry England. He was willing enough to do so, but unable +from want of means. So I lent him a trifle, and now he is on his way to +Australia. Workmen are the geese that lay the golden eggs, but they fly +away sometimes. I hear a gong sounding, to remind me of the fight of +time and the value of your share of it. Good-morning!” + +Miss Wilson was suddenly moved not to let him go without an appeal to +his better nature. “Mr. Trefusis,” she said, “excuse me, but are you +not, in your generosity to others a little forgetful of your duty to +yourself; and--” + +“The first and hardest of all duties!” he exclaimed. “I beg your pardon +for interrupting you. It was only to plead guilty.” + +“I cannot admit that it is the first of all duties, but it is sometimes +perhaps the hardest, as you say. Still, you could surely do yourself +more justice without any great effort. If you wish to live humbly, you +can do so without pretending to be an uneducated man and without +taking an irritating and absurd name. Why on earth do you call yourself +Smilash?” + +“I confess that the name has been a failure. I took great pains, in +constructing it, to secure a pleasant impression. It is not a mere +invention, but a compound of the words smile and eyelash. A smile +suggests good humor; eyelashes soften the expression and are the only +features that never blemish a face. Hence Smilash is a sound that should +cheer and propitiate. Yet it exasperates. It is really very odd that it +should have that effect, unless it is that it raises expectations which +I am unable to satisfy.” + +Miss Wilson looked at him doubtfully. He remained perfectly grave. There +was a pause. Then, as if she had made up her mind to be offended, she +said, “Good-morning,” shortly. + +“Good-morning, Miss Wilson. The son of a millionaire, like the son of a +king, is seldom free from mental disease. I am just mad enough to be a +mountebank. If I were a little madder, I should perhaps really believe +myself Smilash instead of merely acting him. Whether you ask me to +forget myself for a moment, or to remember myself for a moment, I +reply that I am the son of my father, and cannot. With my egotism, my +charlatanry, my tongue, and my habit of having my own way, I am fit for +no calling but that of saviour of mankind--just of the sort they like.” + After an impressive pause he turned slowly and left the room. + +“I wonder,” he said, as he crossed the landing, “whether, by judiciously +losing my way, I can catch a glimpse of that girl who is like a golden +idol?” + +Downstairs, on his way to the door, he saw Agatha coming towards +him, occupied with a book which she was tossing up to the ceiling and +catching. Her melancholy expression, habitual in her lonely moments, +showed that she was not amusing herself, but giving vent to her +restlessness. As her gaze travelled upward, following the flight of +the volume, it was arrested by Smilash. The book fell to the floor. He +picked it up and handed it to her, saying: + +“And, in good time, here is the golden idol!” + +“What?” said Agatha, confused. + +“I call you the golden idol,” he said. “When we are apart I always +imagine your face as a face of gold, with eyes and teeth of bdellium, +or chalcedony, or agate, or any wonderful unknown stones of appropriate +colors.” + +Agatha, witless and dumb, could only look down deprecatingly. + +“You think you ought to be angry with me, and you do not know exactly +how to make me feel that you are so. Is that it?” + +“No. Quite the contrary. At least--I mean that you are wrong. I am the +most commonplace person you can imagine--if you only knew. No matter +what I may look, I mean.” + +“How do you know that you are commonplace?” + +“Of course I know,” said Agatha, her eyes wandering uneasily. + +“Of course you do not know; you cannot see yourself as others see you. +For instance, you have never thought of yourself as a golden idol.” + +“But that is absurd. You are quite mistaken about me.” + +“Perhaps so. I know, however, that your face is not really made of gold +and that it has not the same charm for you that it has for others--for +me.” + +“I must go,” said Agatha, suddenly in haste. + +“When shall we meet again?” + +“I don’t know,” she said, with a growing sense of alarm. “I really must +go.” + +“Believe me, your hurry is only imaginary. Do you fancy that you are +behaving in a manner of quite ubdued ardor that affected Agatha +strangely. + +“But first tell me whether it is new to you or not.” + +“It is not an emotion at all. I did not say that it was.” + +“Do not be afraid of it. It is only being alone with a man whom you have +bewitched. You would be mistress of the situation if you only knew how +to manage a lover. It is far easier than managing a horse, or skating, +or playing the piano, or half a dozen other feats of which you think +nothing.” + +Agatha colored and raised her head. + +“Forgive me,” he said, interrupting the action. “I am trying to offend +you in order to save myself from falling in love with you, and I have +not the heart to let myself succeed. On your life, do not listen to me +or believe me. I have no right to say these things to you. Some fiend +enters into me when I am at your side. You should wear a veil, Agatha.” + +She blushed, and stood burning and tingling, her presence of mind gone, +and her chief sensation one of relief to hear--for she did not dare +to see--that he was departing. Her consciousness was in a delicious +confusion, with the one definite thought in it that she had won her +lover at last. The tone of Trefusis’s voice, rich with truth and +earnestness, his quick insight, and his passionate warning to her not to +heed him, convinced her that she had entered into a relation destined to +influence her whole life. + +“And yet,” she said remorsefully, “I cannot love him as he loves me. +I am selfish, cold, calculating, worldly, and have doubted until now +whether such a thing as love really existed. If I could only love him +recklessly and wholly, as he loves me!” + +Smilash was also soliloquizing as he went on his way. + +“Now I have made the poor child--who was so anxious that I should not +mistake her for a supernaturally gifted and lovely woman as happy as an +angel; and so is that fine girl whom they call Jane Carpenter. I hope +they won’t exchange confidences on the subject.” + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Mrs. Trefusis found her parents so unsympathetic on the subject of her +marriage that she left their house shortly after her visit to Lyvern, +and went to reside with a hospitable friend. Unable to remain silent +upon the matter constantly in her thoughts, she discussed her husband’s +flight with this friend, and elicited an opinion that the behavior of +Trefusis was scandalous and wicked. Henrietta could not bear this, +and sought shelter with a relative. The same discussion arising, the +relative said: + +“Well, Hetty, if I am to speak candidly, I must say that I have known +Sidney Trefusis for a long time, and he is the easiest person to get +on with I ever met. And you know, dear, that you are very trying +sometimes.” + +“And so,” cried Henrietta, bursting into tears, “after the infamous way +he has treated me I am to be told that it is all my own fault.” + +She left the house next day, having obtained another invitation from +a discreet lady who would not discuss the subject at all. This proved +quite intolerable, and Henrietta went to stay with her uncle Daniel +Jansenius, a jolly and indulgent man. He opined that things would come +right as soon as both parties grew more sensible; and, as to which of +them was, in fault, his verdict was, six of one and half a dozen of the +other. Whenever he saw his niece pensive or tearful he laughed at her +and called her a grass widow. Henrietta found that she could endure +anything rather than this. Declaring that the world was hateful to her, +she hired a furnished villa in St. John’s Wood, whither she moved in +December. But, suffering much there from loneliness, she soon wrote +a pathetic letter to Agatha, entreating her to spend the approaching +Christmas vacation with her, and promising her every luxury and +amusement that boundless affection could suggest and boundless means +procure. Agatha’s reply contained some unlooked-for information. + +“Alton College, Lyvern, + +“14th December. + +“Dearest Hetty: I don’t think I can do exactly what you want, as I must +spend Xmas with Mamma at Chiswick; but I need not get there until Xmas +Eve, and we break up here on yesterday week, the 20th. So I will go +straight to you and bring you with me to Mamma’s, where you will spend +Xmas much better than moping in a strange house. It is not quite settled +yet about my leaving the college after this term. You must promise not +to tell anyone; but I have a new friend here--a lover. Not that I am in +love with him, though I think very highly of him--you know I am not a +romantic fool; but he is very much in love with me; and I wish I could +return it as he deserves. The French say that one person turns the cheek +and the other kisses it. It has not got quite so far as that with us; +indeed, since he declared what he felt he has only been able to snatch +a few words with me when I have been skating or walking. But there has +always been at least one word or look that meant a great deal. + +“And now, who do you think he is? He says he knows you. Can you guess? +He says you know all his secrets. He says he knows your husband well; +that he treated you very badly, and that you are greatly to be pitied. +Can you guess now? He says he has kissed you--for shame, Hetty! Have +you guessed yet? He was going to tell me something more when we were +interrupted, and I have not seen him since except at a distance. He +is the man with whom you eloped that day when you gave us all such a +fright--Mr. Sidney. I was the first to penetrate his disguise; and that +very morning I had taxed him with it, and he had confessed it. He said +then that he was hiding from a woman who was in love with him; and +I should not be surprised if it turned out to be true; for he is +wonderfully original--in fact what makes me like him is that he is by +far the cleverest man I have ever met; and yet he thinks nothing of +himself. I cannot imagine what he sees in me to care for, though he is +evidently ensnared by my charms. I hope he won’t find out how silly I +am. He called me his golden idol--” + +Henrietta, with a scream of rage, tore the letter across, and stamped +upon it. When the paroxysm subsided she picked up the pieces, held them +together as accurately as her trembling hands could, and read on. + +“--but he is not all honey, and will say the most severe things +sometimes if he thinks he ought to. He has made me so ashamed of my +ignorance that I am resolved to stay here for another term at least, and +study as hard as I can. I have not begun yet, as it is not worth while +at the eleventh hour of this term; but when I return in January I will +set to work in earnest. So you may see that his influence over me is +an entirely good one. I will tell you all about him when we meet; for +I have no time to say anything now, as the girls are bothering me to go +skating with them. He pretends to be a workman, and puts on our skates +for us; and Jane Carpenter believes that he is in love with her. Jane +is exceedingly kindhearted; but she has a talent for making herself +ridiculous that nothing can suppress. The ice is lovely, and the weather +jolly; we do not mind the cold in the least. They are threatening to go +without me--good-bye! + +“Ever your affectionate + +“Agatha.” + +Henrietta looked round for something sharp. She grasped a pair of +scissors greedily and stabbed the air with them. Then she became +conscious of her murderous impulse, and she shuddered at it; but in +a moment more her jealousy swept back upon her. She cried, as if +suffocating, “I don’t care; I should like to kill her!” But she did not +take up the scissors again. + +At last she rang the bell violently and asked for a railway guide. On +being told that there was not one in the house, she scolded her maid so +unreasonably that the girl said pertly that if she were to be spoken +to like that she should wish to leave when her month was up. This check +brought Henrietta to her senses. She went upstairs and put on the first +cloak at hand, which was fortunately a heavy fur one. Then she took her +bonnet and purse, left the house, hailed a passing hansom, and bade the +cabman drive her to St. Pancras. + +When the night came the air at Lyvern was like iron in the intense cold. +The trees and the wind seemed ice-bound, as the water was, and silence, +stillness, and starlight, frozen hard, brooded over the country. At the +chalet, Smilash, indifferent to the price of coals, kept up a roaring +fire that glowed through the uncurtained windows, and tantalized the +chilled wayfarer who did not happen to know, as the herdsmen of the +neighborhood did, that he was welcome to enter and warm himself without +risk of rebuff from the tenant. Smilash was in high spirits. He had +become a proficient skater, and frosty weather was now a luxury to him. +It braced him, and drove away his gloomy fits, whilst his sympathies +were kept awake and his indignation maintained at an exhilarating pitch +by the sufferings of the poor, who, unable to afford fires or skating, +warmed themselves in such sweltering heat as overcrowding produces in +all seasons. + +It was Smilash’s custom to make a hot drink of oatmeal and water for +himself at half-past nine o’clock each evening, and to go to bed at ten. +He opened the door to throw out some water that remained in the saucepan +from its last cleansing. It froze as it fell upon the soil. He looked +at the night, and shook himself to throw off an oppressive sensation of +being clasped in the icy ribs of the air, for the mercury had descended +below the familiar region of crisp and crackly cold and marked a +temperature at which the numb atmosphere seemed on the point of +congealing into black solidity. Nothing was stirring. + +“By George!” he said, “this is one of those nights on which a rich man +daren’t think!” + +He shut the door, hastened back to his fire, and set to work at his +caudle, which he watched and stirred with a solicitude that would have +amused a professed cook. When it was done he poured it into a large mug, +where it steamed invitingly. He took up some in a spoon and blew upon it +to cool it. Tap, tap, tap, tap! hurriedly at the door. + +“Nice night for a walk,” he said, putting down the spoon; then shouting, +“Come in.” + +The latch rose unsteadily, and Henrietta, with frozen tears on her +cheeks, and an unintelligible expression of wretchedness and rage, +appeared. After an instant of amazement, he sprang to her and clasped +her in his arms, and she, against her will, and protesting voicelessly, +stumbled into his embrace. + +“You are frozen to death,” he exclaimed, carrying her to the fire. “This +seal jacket is like a sheet of ice. So is your face” (kissing it). “What +is the matter? Why do you struggle so?” + +“Let me go,” she gasped, in a vehement whisper. “I h--hate you.” + +“My poor love, you are too cold to hate anyone--even your husband. You +must let me take off these atrocious French boots. Your feet must be +perfectly dead.” + +By this time her voice and tears were thawing in the warmth of the +chalet and of his caresses. “You shall not take them off,” she said, +crying with cold and sorrow. “Let me alone. Don’t touch me. I am going +away--straight back. I will not speak to you, nor take off my things +here, nor touch anything in the house.” + +“No, my darling,” he said, putting her into a capacious wooden armchair +and busily unbuttoning her boots, “you shall do nothing that you don’t +wish to do. Your feet are like stones. Yes, yes, my dear, I am a wretch +unworthy to live. I know it.” + +“Let me alone,” she said piteously. “I don’t want your attentions. I +have done with you for ever.” + +“Come, you must drink some of this nasty stuff. You will need strength +to tell your husband all the unpleasant things your soul is charged +with. Take just a little.” + +She turned her face away and would not answer. He brought another chair +and sat down beside her. “My lost, forlorn, betrayed one--” + +“I am,” she sobbed. “You don’t mean it, but I am.” + +“You are also my dearest and best of wives. If you ever loved me, Hetty, +do, for my once dear sake, drink this before it gets cold.” + +She pouted, sobbed, and yielded to some gentle force which he used, as +a child allows herself to be half persuaded, half compelled, to take +physic. + +“Do you feel better and more comfortable now?” he said. + +“No,” she replied, angry with herself for feeling both. + +“Then,” he said cheerfully, as if she had uttered a hearty affirmative, +“I will put some more coals on the fire, and we shall be as snug as +possible. It makes me wildly happy to see you at my fireside, and to +know that you are my own wife.” + +“I wonder how you can look me in the face and say so,” she cried. + +“I should wonder at myself if I could look at your face and say anything +else. Oatmeal is a capital restorative; all your energy is coming back. +There, that will make a magnificent blaze presently.” + +“I never thought you deceitful, Sidney, whatever other faults you might +have had.” + +“Precisely, my love. I understand your feelings. Murder, burglary, +intemperance, or the minor vices you could have borne; but deceit you +cannot abide.” + +“I will go away,” she said despairingly, with a fresh burst of tears. “I +will not be laughed at and betrayed. I will go barefooted.” She rose and +attempted to reach the door; but he intercepted her and said: + +“My love, there is something serious the matter. What is it? Don’t be +angry with me.” + +He brought her back to the chair. She took Agatha’s letter from the +pocket of her fur cloak, and handed it to him with a faint attempt to be +tragic. + +“Read that,” she said. “And never speak to me again. All is over between +us.” + +He took it curiously, and turned it to look at the signature. “Aha!” he +said, “my golden idol has been making mischief, has she?” + +“There!” exclaimed Henrietta. “You have said it to my face! You have +convicted yourself out of your own mouth!” + +“Wait a moment, my dear. I have not read the letter yet.” + +He rose and walked to and fro through the room, reading. She watched +him, angrily confident that she should presently see him change +countenance. Suddenly he drooped as if his spine had partly given way; +and in this ungraceful attitude he read the remainder of the letter. +When he had finished he threw it on the table, thrust his hands deep +into his pockets, and roared with laughter, huddling himself together as +if he could concentrate the joke by collecting himself into the smallest +possible compass. Henrietta, speechless with indignation, could only +look her feelings. At last he came and sat down beside her. + +“And so,” he said, “on receiving this you rushed out in the cold and +came all the way to Lyvern. Now, it seems to me that you must either +love me very much--” + +“I don’t. I hate you.” + +“Or else love yourself very much.” + +“Oh!” And she wept afresh. “You are a selfish brute, and you do just as +you like without considering anyone else. No one ever thinks of me. And +now you won’t even take the trouble to deny that shameful letter.” + +“Why should I deny it? It is true. Do you not see the irony of all this? +I amuse myself by paying a few compliments to a schoolgirl for whom I +do not care two straws more than for any agreeable and passably clever +woman I meet. Nevertheless, I occasionally feel a pang of remorse +because I think that she may love me seriously, although I am only +playing with her. I pity the poor heart I have wantonly ensnared. And, +all the time, she is pitying me for exactly the same reason! She is +conscience-stricken because she is only indulging in the luxury of +being adored ‘by far the cleverest man she has ever met,’ and is as +heart-whole as I am! Ha, ha! That is the basis of the religion of love +of which poets are the high-priests. Each worshipper knows that his own +love is either a transient passion or a sham copied from his favorite +poem; but he believes honestly in the love of others for him. Ho, ho! Is +it not a silly world, my dear?” + +“You had no right to make love to Agatha. You have no right to make love +to anyone but me; and I won’t bear it.” + +“You are angry because Agatha has infringed your monopoly. Always +monopoly! Why, you silly girl, do you suppose that I belong to you, body +and soul?--that I may not be moved except by your affection, or think +except of your beauty?” + +“You may call me as many names as you please, but you have no right to +make love to Agatha.” + +“My dearest, I do not recollect calling you any names. I think you said +something about a selfish brute.” + +“I did not. You called me a silly girl.” + +“But, my love, you are.” + +“And so YOU are. You are thoroughly selfish.” + +“I don’t deny it. But let us return to our subject. What did we begin to +quarrel about?” + +“I am not quarrelling, Sidney. It is you.” + +“Well, what did I begin to quarrel about?” + +“About Agatha Wylie.” + +“Oh, pardon me, Hetty; I certainly did not begin to quarrel about her. I +am very fond of her--more so, it appears, than she is of me. One moment, +Hetty, before you recommence your reproaches. Why do you dislike my +saying pretty things to Agatha?” + +Henrietta hesitated, and said: “Because you have no right to. It shows +how little you care for me.” + +“It has nothing to do with you. It only shows how much I care for her.” + +“I will not stay here to be insulted,” said Hetty, her distress +returning. “I will go home.” + +“Not to-night; there is no train.” + +“I will walk.” + +“It is too far.” + +“I don’t care. I will not stay here, though I die of cold by the +roadside.” + +“My cherished one, I have been annoying you purposely because you show +by your anger that you have not ceased to care for me. I am in the +wrong, as I usually am, and it is all my fault. Agatha knows nothing +about our marriage.” + +“I do not blame you so much,” said Henrietta, suffering him to place her +head on his shoulder; “but I will never speak to Agatha again. She has +behaved shamefully to me, and I will tell her so.” + +“No doubt she will opine that it is all your fault, dearest, and that I +have behaved admirably. Between you I shall stand exonerated. And now, +since it is too cold for walking, since it is late, since it is far to +Lyvern and farther to London, I must improvise some accommodation for +you here.” + +“But--” + +“But there is no help for it. You must stay.” + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Next day Smilash obtained from his wife a promise that she would behave +towards Agatha as if the letter had given no offence. Henrietta pleaded +as movingly as she could for an immediate return to their domestic +state, but he put her off with endearing speeches, promised nothing but +eternal affection, and sent her back to London by the twelve o’clock +express. Then his countenance changed; he walked back to Lyvern, and +thence to the chalet, like a man pursued by disgust and remorse. Later +in the afternoon, to raise his spirits, he took his skates and went to +Wickens’s pond, where, it being Saturday, he found the ice crowded +with the Alton students and their half-holiday visitors. Fairholme, +describing circles with his habitual air of compressed hardihood, +stopped and stared with indignant surprise as Smilash lurched past him. + +“Is that man here by your permission?” he said to Farmer Wickens, who +was walking about as if superintending a harvest. + +“He is here because he likes, I take it,” said Wickens stubbornly. “He +is a neighbor of mine and a friend of mine. Is there any objections to +my having a friend on my own pond, seein’ that there is nigh on two +or three ton of other people’s friends on it without as much as a +with-your-leave or a by-your-leave.” + +“Oh, no,” said Fairholme, somewhat dashed. “If you are satisfied there +can be no objection.” + +“I’m glad on it. I thought there mout be.” + +“Let me tell you,” said Fairholme, nettled, “that your landlord would +not be pleased to see him here. He sent one of Sir John’s best shepherds +out of the country, after filling his head with ideas above his station. +I heard Sir John speak very warmly about it last Sunday.” + +“Mayhap you did, Muster Fairholme. I have a lease of this land--and +gravelly, poor stuff it is--and I am no ways beholden to Sir John’s +likings and dislikings. A very good thing too for Sir John that I have +a lease, for there ain’t a man in the country ‘ud tak’ a present o’ the +farm if it was free to-morrow. And what’s a’ more, though that young man +do talk foolish things about the rights of farm laborers and such-like +nonsense, if Sir John was to hear him layin’ it down concernin’ rent +and improvements, and the way we tenant farmers is put upon, p’raps he’d +speak warmer than ever next Sunday.” + +And Wickens, with a smile expressive of his sense of having retorted +effectively upon the parson, nodded and walked away. + +Just then Agatha, skating hand in hand with Jane Carpenter, heard these +words in her ear: “I have something very funny to tell you. Don’t look +round.” + +She recognized the voice of Smilash and obeyed. + +“I am not quite sure that you will enjoy it as it deserves,” he +added, and darted off again, after casting an eloquent glance at Miss +Carpenter. + +Agatha disengaged herself from her companion, made a circuit, and passed +near Smilash, saying: “What is it?” + +Smilash flitted away like a swallow, traced several circles around +Fairholme, and then returned to Agatha and proceeded side by side with +her. + +“I have read the letter you wrote to Hetty,” he said. + +Agatha’s face began to glow. She forgot to maintain her balance, and +almost fell. + +“Take care. And so you are not fond of me--in the romantic sense?” + +No answer. Agatha dumb and afraid to lift her eyelids. + +“That is fortunate,” he continued, “because--good evening, Miss Ward; I +have done nothing but admire your skating for the last hour--because +men were deceivers ever; and I am no exception, as you will presently +admit.” + +Agatha murmured something, but it was unintelligible amid the din of +skating. + +“You think not? Well, perhaps you are right; I have said nothing to you +that is not in a measure true. You have always had a peculiar charm for +me. But I did not mean you to tell Hetty. Can you guess why?” + +Agatha shook her head. + +“Because she is my wife.” + +Agatha’s ankles became limp. With an effort she kept upright until she +reached Jane, to whom she clung for support. + +“Don’t,” screamed Jane. “You’ll upset me.” + +“I must sit down,” said Agatha. “I am tired. Let me lean on you until we +get to the chairs.” + +“Bosh! I can skate for an hour without sitting down,” said Jane. +However, she helped Agatha to a chair and left her. Then Smilash, as if +desiring a rest also, sat down close by on the margin of the pond. + +“Well,” he said, without troubling himself as to whether their +conversation attracted attention or not, “what do you think of me now?” + +“Why did you not tell me before, Mr. Trefusis?” + +“That is the cream of the joke,” he replied, poising his heels on the +ice so that his skates stood vertically at legs’ length from him, and +looking at them with a cynical air. “I thought you were in love with me, +and that the truth would be too severe a blow to you. Ha! ha! And, for +the same reason, you generously forbore to tell me that you were no more +in love with me than with the man in the moon. Each played a farce, and +palmed it off on the other as a tragedy.” + +“There are some things so unmanly, so unkind, and so cruel,” said +Agatha, “that I cannot understand any gentleman saying them to a girl. +Please do not speak to me again. Miss Ward! Come to me for a moment. +I--I am not well.” + +Ward hurried to her side. Smilash, after staring at her for a moment in +astonishment, and in some concern, skimmed away into the crowd. When +he reached the opposite bank he took off his skates and asked Jane, who +strayed intentionally in his direction, to tell Miss Wylie that he +was gone, and would skate no more there. Without adding a word of +explanation he left her and made for his dwelling. As he went down into +the hollow where the road passed through the plantation on the college +side of the chalet he descried a boy, in the uniform of the post office, +sliding along the frozen ditch. A presentiment of evil tidings came upon +him like a darkening of the sky. He quickened his pace. + +“Anything for me?” he said. + +The boy, who knew him, fumbled in a letter case and produced a buff +envelope. It contained a telegram. + + +From Jansenius, London. + +TO J. Smilash, Chamoounix Villa, Lyvern. + +Henrietta dangerously ill after journey wants to see you doctors say +must come at once. + + +There was a pause. Then he folded the paper methodically and put it in +his pocket, as if quite done with it. + +“And so,” he said, “perhaps the tragedy is to follow the farce after +all.” + +He looked at the boy, who retreated, not liking his expression. + +“Did you slide all the way from Lyvern?” + +“Only to come quicker,” said the messenger, faltering. “I came as quick +as I could.” + +“You carried news heavy enough to break the thickest ice ever frozen. I +have a mind to throw you over the top of that tree instead of giving you +this half-crown.” + +“You let me alone,” whimpered the boy, retreating another pace. + +“Get back to Lyvern as fast as you can run or slide, and tell Mr. Marsh +to send me the fastest trap he has, to drive me to the railway station. +Here is your half-crown. Off with you; and if I do not find the trap +ready when I want it, woe betide you.” + +The boy came for the money mistrustfully, and ran off with it as fast +as he could. Smilash went into the chalet and never reappeared. Instead, +Trefusis, a gentleman in an ulster, carrying a rug, came out, locked the +door, and hurried along the road to Lyvern, where he was picked up by +the trap, and carried swiftly to the railway station, just in time to +catch the London train. + +“Evening paper, sir?” said a voice at the window, as he settled himself +in the corner of a first-class carriage. + +“No, thank you.” + +“Footwarmer, sir?” said a porter, appearing in the news-vender’s place. + +“Ah, that’s a good idea. Yes, let me have a footwarmer.” + +The footwarmer was brought, and Trefusis composed himself comfortably +for his journey. It seemed very short to him; he could hardly believe, +when the train arrived in London, that he had been nearly three hours on +the way. + +There was a sense of Christmas about the travellers and the people who +were at the terminus to meet them. The porter who came to the carriage +door reminded Trefusis by his manner and voice that the season was one +at which it becomes a gentleman to be festive and liberal. + +“Wot luggage, sir? Hansom or fourweoll, sir?” + +For a moment Trefusis felt a vagabond impulse to resume the language of +Smilash and fable to the man of hampers of turkey and plum-pudding in +the van. But he repressed it, got into a hansom, and was driven to his +father-in-law’s house in Belsize Avenue, studying in a gloomily critical +mood the anxiety that surged upon him and made his heart beat like a +boy’s as he drew near his destination. There were two carriages at the +door when he alighted. The reticent expression of the coachmen sent a +tremor through him. + +The door opened before he rang. “If you please, sir,” said the maid in a +low voice, “will you step into the library; and the doctor will see you +immediately.” + +On the first landing of the staircase two gentlemen were speaking to Mr. +Jansenius, who hastily moved out of sight, not before a glimpse of his +air of grief and discomfiture had given Trefusis a strange twinge, +succeeded by a sensation of having been twenty years a widower. He +smiled unconcernedly as he followed the girl into the library, and asked +her how she did. She murmured some reply and hurried away, thinking that +the poor young man would alter his tone presently. + +He was joined at once by a gray whiskered gentleman, scrupulously +dressed and mannered. Trefusis introduced himself, and the physician +looked at him with some interest. Then he said: + +“You have arrived too late, Mr. Trefusis. All is over, I am sorry to +say.” + +“Was the long railway journey she took in this cold weather the cause of +her death?” + +Some bitter words that the physician had heard upstairs made him aware +that this was a delicate question. But he said quietly: “The proximate +cause, doubtless. The proximate cause.” + +“She received some unwelcome and quite unlooked-for intelligence before +she started. Had that anything to do with her death, do you think?” + +“It may have produced an unfavorable effect,” said the physician, +growing restive and taking up his gloves. “The habit of referring such +events to such causes is carried too far, as a rule.” + +“No doubt. I am curious because the event is novel in my experience. I +suppose it is a commonplace in yours. Pardon me. The loss of a lady so +young and so favorably circumstanced is not a commonplace either in my +experience or in my opinion.” The physician held up his head as he +spoke, in protest against any assumption that his sympathies had been +blunted by his profession. + +“Did she suffer?” + +“For some hours, yes. We were able to do a little to alleviate her +pain--poor thing!” He almost forgot Trefusis as he added the apostrophe. + +“Hours of pain! Can you conceive any good purpose that those hours may +have served?” + +The physician shook his head, leaving it doubtful whether he meant to +reply in the negative or to deplore considerations of that nature. +He also made a movement to depart, being uneasy in conversation with +Trefusis, who would, he felt sure, presently ask questions or make +remarks with which he could hardly deal without committing himself in +some direction. His conscience was not quite at rest. Henrietta’s pain +had not, he thought, served any good purpose; but he did not want to +say so, lest he should acquire a reputation for impiety and lose his +practice. He believed that the general practitioner who attended the +family, and had called him in when the case grew serious, had treated +Henrietta unskilfully, but professional etiquette bound him so strongly +that, sooner than betray his colleague’s inefficiency, he would have +allowed him to decimate London. + +“One word more,” said Trefusis. “Did she know that she was dying?” + +“No. I considered it best that she should not be informed of her danger. +She passed away without any apprehension.” + +“Then one can think of it with equanimity. She dreaded death, poor +child. The wonder is that there was not enough folly in the household to +prevail against your good sense.” + +The physician bowed and took his leave, esteeming himself somewhat +fortunate in escaping without being reproached for his humanity in +having allowed Henrietta to die unawares. + +A moment later the general practitioner entered. Trefusis, having +accompanied the consulting physician to the door, detected the family +doctor in the act of pulling a long face just outside it. Restraining a +desire to seize him by the throat, he seated himself on the edge of the +table and said cheerfully: + +“Well, doctor, how has the world used you since we last met?” + +The doctor was taken aback, but the solemn disposition of his features +did not relax as he almost intoned: “Has Sir Francis told you the sad +news, Mr. Trefusis?” + +“Yes. Frightful, isn’t it? Lord bless me, we’re here to-day and gone +to-morrow.” + +“True, very true!” + +“Sir Francis has a high opinion of you.” + +The doctor looked a little foolish. “Everything was done that could be +done, Mr. Trefusis; but Mrs. Jansenius was very anxious that no stone +should be left unturned. She was good enough to say that her sole reason +for wishing me to call in Sir Francis was that you should have no cause +to complain.” + +“Indeed!” + +“An excellent mother! A sad event for her! Ah, yes, yes! Dear me! A very +sad event!” + +“Most disagreeable. Such a cold day too. Pleasanter to be in heaven than +here in such weather, possibly.” + +“Ah!” said the doctor, as if much sound comfort lay in that. “I hope so; +I hope so; I do not doubt it. Sir Francis did not permit us to tell her, +and I, of course, deferred to him. Perhaps it was for the best.” + +“You would have told her, then, if Sir Francis had not objected?” + +“Well, there are, you see, considerations which we must not ignore in +our profession. Death is a serious thing, as I am sure I need not remind +you, Mr. Trefusis. We have sometimes higher duties than indulgence to +the natural feelings of our patients.” + +“Quite so. The possibility of eternal bliss and the probability of +eternal torment are consolations not to be lightly withheld from a +dying girl, eh? However, what’s past cannot be mended. I have much to +be thankful for, after all. I am a young man, and shall not cut a bad +figure as a widower. And now tell me, doctor, am I not in very bad +repute upstairs?” + +“Mr. Trefusis! Sir! I cannot meddle in family matters. I understand my +duties and never over step them.” The doctor, shocked at last, spoke as +loftily as he could. + +“Then I will go and see Mr. Jansenius,” said Trefusis, getting off the +table. + +“Stay, sir! One moment. I have not finished. Mrs. Jansenius has asked +me to ask--I was about to say that I am not speaking now as the medical +adviser of this family; but although an old friend--and--ahem! Mrs. +Jansenius has asked me to ask--to request you to excuse Mr. Jansenius, +as he is prostrated by grief, and is, as I can--as a medical man--assure +you, unable to see anyone. She will speak to you herself as soon as she +feels able to do so--at some time this evening. Meanwhile, of course, +any orders you may give--you must be fatigued by your journey, and I +always recommend people not to fast too long; it produces an acute form +of indigestion--any orders you may wish to give will, of course, be +attended to at once.” + +“I think,” said Trefusis, after a moment’s reflection, “I will order a +hansom.” + +“There is no ill-feeling,” said the doctor, who, as a slow man, was +usually alarmed by prompt decisions, even when they seemed wise to him, +as this one did. “I hope you have not gathered from anything I have +said--” + +“Not at all; you have displayed the utmost tact. But I think I had +better go. Jansenius can bear death and misery with perfect fortitude +when it is on a large scale and hidden in a back slum. But when it +breaks into his own house, and attacks his property--his daughter was +his property until very recently--he is just the man to lose his head +and quarrel with me for keeping mine.” + +The doctor was unable to cope with this speech, which conveyed vaguely +monstrous ideas to him. Seeing Trefusis about to leave, he said in a low +voice: “Will you go upstairs?” + +“Upstairs! Why?” + +“I--I thought you might wish to see--” He did not finish the sentence, +but Trefusis flinched; the blank had expressed what was meant. + +“To see something that was Henrietta, and that is a thing we must cast +out and hide, with a little superstitious mumming to save appearances. +Why did you remind me of it?” + +“But, sir, whatever your views may be, will you not, as a matter of +form, in deference to the feelings of the family--” + +“Let them spare their feelings for the living, on whose behalf I have +often appealed to them in vain,” cried Trefusis, losing patience. “Damn +their feelings!” And, turning to the door, he found it open, and Mrs. +Jansenius there listening. + +Trefusis was confounded. He knew what the effect of his speech must be, +and felt that it would be folly to attempt excuse or explanation. He put +his hands into his pockets, leaned against the table, and looked at her, +mutely wondering what would follow on her part. + +The doctor broke the silence by saying tremulously, “I have communicated +the melancholy intelligence to Mr. Trefusis.” + +“I hope you told him also,” she said sternly, “that, however deficient +we may be in feeling, we did everything that lay in our power for our +child.” + +“I am quite satisfied,” said Trefusis. + +“No doubt you are--with the result,” said Mrs. Jansenius, hardly. “I +wish to know whether you have anything to complain of.” + +“Nothing.” + +“Please do not imply that anything has happened through our neglect.” + +“What have I to complain of? She had a warm room and a luxurious bed to +die in, with the best medical advice in the world. Plenty of people +are starving and freezing to-day that we may have the means to die +fashionably; ask THEM if they have any cause for complaint. Do you think +I will wrangle over her body about the amount of money spent on her +illness? What measure is that of the cause she had for complaint? I +never grudged money to her--how could I, seeing that more than I can +waste is given to me for nothing? Or how could you? Yet she had great +reason to complain of me. You will allow that to be so.” + +“It is perfectly true.” + +“Well, when I am in the humor for it, I will reproach myself and not +you.” He paused, and then turned forcibly on her, saying, “Why do you +select this time, of all others, to speak so bitterly to me?” + +“I am not aware that I have said anything to call for such a remark. Did +YOU,” (appealing to the doctor) “hear me say anything?” + +“Mr. Trefusis does not mean to say that you did, I am sure. Oh, no. Mr. +Trefusis’s feelings are naturally--are harrowed. That is all.” + +“My feelings!” cried Trefusis impatiently. “Do you suppose my feelings +are a trumpery set of social observances, to be harrowed to order and +exhibited at funerals? She has gone as we three shall go soon enough. If +we were immortal, we might reasonably pity the dead. As we are not, we +had better save our energies to minimize the harm we are likely to do +before we follow her.” + +The doctor was deeply offended by this speech, for the statement that +he should one day die seemed to him a reflection upon his professional +mastery over death. Mrs. Jansenius was glad to see Trefusis confirming +her bad opinion and report of him by his conduct and language in the +doctor’s presence. There was a brief pause, and then Trefusis, too far +out of sympathy with them to be able to lead the conversation into a +kinder vein, left the room. In the act of putting on his overcoat in the +hall, he hesitated, and hung it up again irresolutely. Suddenly he ran +upstairs. At the sound of his steps a woman came from one of the rooms +and looked inquiringly at him. + +“Is it here?” he said. + +“Yes, sir,” she whispered. + +A painful sense of constriction came in his chest, and he turned pale +and stopped with his hand on the lock. + +“Don’t be afraid, sir,” said the woman, with an encouraging smile. “She +looks beautiful.” + +He looked at her with a strange grin, as if she had uttered a ghastly +but irresistible joke. Then he went in, and, when he reached the bed, +wished he had stayed without. He was not one of those who, seeing little +in the faces of the living miss little in the faces of the dead. The +arrangement of the black hair on the pillow, the soft drapery, and the +flowers placed there by the nurse to complete the artistic effect to +which she had so confidently referred, were lost on him; he saw only +a lifeless mask that had been his wife’s face, and at sight of it his +knees failed, and he had to lean for support on the rail at the foot of +the bed. + +When he looked again the face seemed to have changed. It was no longer +a waxlike mask, but Henrietta, girlish and pathetically at rest. Death +seemed to have cancelled her marriage and womanhood; he had never seen +her look so young. A minute passed, and then a tear dropped on the +coverlet. He started; shook another tear on his hand, and stared at it +incredulously. + +“This is a fraud of which I have never even dreamed,” he said. “Tears +and no sorrow! Here am I crying! growing maudlin! whilst I am glad that +she is gone and I free. I have the mechanism of grief in me somewhere; +it begins to turn at sight of her though I have no sorrow; just as she +used to start the mechanism of passion when I had no love. And that made +no difference to her; whilst the wheels went round she was satisfied. I +hope the mechanism of grief will flag and stop in its spinning as soon +as the other used to. It is stopping already, I think. What a mockery! +Whilst it lasts I suppose I am really sorry. And yet, would I restore +her to life if I could? Perhaps so; I am therefore thankful that I +cannot.” He folded his arms on the rail and gravely addressed the dead +figure, which still affected him so strongly that he had to exert his +will to face it with composure. “If you really loved me, it is well for +you that you are dead--idiot that I was to believe that the passion you +could inspire, you poor child, would last. We are both lucky; I have +escaped from you, and you have escaped from yourself.” + +Presently he breathed more freely and looked round the room to help +himself into a matter-of-fact vein by a little unembarrassed action, and +the commonplace aspect of the bedroom furniture. He went to the pillow, +and bent over it, examining the face closely. + +“Poor child!” he said again, tenderly. Then, with sudden reaction, +apostrophizing himself instead of his wife, “Poor ass! Poor idiot! Poor +jackanapes! Here is the body of a woman who was nearly as old as myself, +and perhaps wiser, and here am I moralizing over it as if I were God +Almighty and she a baby! The more you remind a man of what he is, the +more conceited he becomes. Monstrous! I shall feel immortal presently.” + +He touched the cheek with a faint attempt at roughness, to feel how cold +it was. Then he touched his own, and remarked: + +“This is what I am hastening toward at the express speed of sixty +minutes an hour!” He stood looking down at the face and tasting this +sombre reflection for a long time. When it palled on him, he roused +himself, and exclaimed more cheerfully: + +“After all, she is not dead. Every word she uttered--every idea she +formed and expressed, was an inexhaustible and indestructible impulse.” + He paused, considered a little further, and relapsed into gloom, adding, +“and the dozen others whose names will be with hers in the ‘Times’ +to-morrow? Their words too are still in the air, to endure there to +all eternity. Hm! How the air must be crammed with nonsense! Two sounds +sometimes produce a silence; perhaps ideas neutralize one another in +some analogous way. No, my dear; you are dead and gone and done with, +and I shall be dead and gone and done with too soon to leave me leisure +to fool myself with hopes of immortality. Poor Hetty! Well, good-by, my +darling. Let us pretend for a moment that you can hear that; I know it +will please you.” + +All this was in a half-articulate whisper. When he ceased he still bent +over the body, gazing intently at it. Even when he had exhausted the +subject, and turned to go, he changed his mind, and looked again for a +while. Then he stood erect, apparently nerved and refreshed, and left +the room with a firm step. The woman was waiting outside. Seeing that he +was less distressed than when he entered, she said: + +“I hope you are satisfied, sir!” + +“Delighted! Charmed! The arrangements are extremely pretty and tasteful. +Most consolatory.” And he gave her half a sovereign. + +“I thank you, sir,” she said, dropping a curtsey. “The poor young lady! +She was anxious to see you, sir. To hear her say that you were the only +one that cared for her! And so fretful with her mother, too. ‘Let him be +told that I am dangerously ill,’ says she, ‘and he’ll come.’ She didn’t +know how true her word was, poor thing; and she went off without being +aware of it.” + +“Flattering herself and flattering me. Happy girl!” + +“Bless you, I know what her feelings were, sir; I have had experience.” + Here she approached him confidentially, and whispered: “The family were +again’ you, sir, and she knew it. But she wouldn’t listen to them. She +thought of nothing, when she was easy enough to think at all, but of +your coming. And--hush! Here’s the old gentleman.” + +Trefusis looked round and saw Mr. Jansenius, whose handsome face +was white and seamed with grief and annoyance. He drew back from the +proffered hand of his son-in-law, like an overworried child from an +ill-timed attempt to pet it. Trefusis pitied him. The nurse coughed and +retired. + +“Have you been speaking to Mrs. Jansenius?” said Trefusis. + +“Yes,” said Jansenius offensively. + +“So have I, unfortunately. Pray make my apologies to her. I was rude. +The circumstances upset me.” + +“You are not upset, sir,” said Jansenius loudly. “You do not care a +damn.” + +Trefusis recoiled. + +“You damned my feelings, and I will damn yours,” continued Jansenius in +the same tone. Trefusis involuntarily looked at the door through which +he had lately passed. Then, recovering himself, he said quietly: + +“It does not matter. She can’t hear us.” + +Before Jansenius could reply his wife hurried upstairs, caught him by +the arm, and said, “Don’t speak to him, John. And you,” she added, to +Trefusis, “WILL you begone?” + +“What!” he said, looking cynically at her. “Without my dead! Without my +property! Well, be it so.” + +“What do you know of the feelings of a respectable man?” persisted +Jansenius, breaking out again in spite of his wife. “Nothing is sacred +to you. This shows what Socialists are!” + +“And what fathers are, and what mothers are,” retorted Trefusis, giving +way to his temper. “I thought you loved Hetty, but I see that you only +love your feelings and your respectability. The devil take both! She was +right; my love for her, incomplete as it was, was greater than yours.” + And he left the house in dudgeon. + +But he stood awhile in the avenue to laugh at himself and his +father-in-law. Then he took a hansom and was driven to the house of +his solicitor, whom he wished to consult on the settlement of his late +wife’s affairs. + + + +CHAPTER X + +The remains of Henrietta Trefusis were interred in Highgate Cemetery +the day before Christmas Eve. Three noblemen sent their carriages to +the funeral, and the friends and clients of Mr. Jansenius, to a large +number, attended in person. The bier was covered with a profusion of +costly Bowers. The undertaker, instructed to spare no expense, provided +long-tailed black horses, with black palls on their backs and black +plumes upon their foreheads; coachmen decorated with scarves and +jack-boots, black hammercloths, cloaks, and gloves, with many hired +mourners, who, however, would have been instantly discharged had they +presumed to betray emotion, or in any way overstep their function of +walking beside the hearse with brass-tipped batons in their hands. + +Among the genuine mourners were Mr. Jansenius, who burst into tears +at the ceremony of casting earth on the coffin; the boy Arthur, who, +preoccupied by the novelty of appearing in a long cloak at the head of a +public procession, felt that he was not so sorry as he ought to be when +he saw his papa cry; and a cousin who had once asked Henrietta to marry +him, and who now, full of tragic reflections, was enjoying his despair +intensely. + +The rest whispered, whenever they could decently do so, about a strange +omission in the arrangements. The husband of the deceased was absent. +Members of the family and intimate friends were told by Daniel Jansenius +that the widower had acted in a blackguard way, and that the Janseniuses +did not care two-pence whether he came or stayed at home; that, but for +the indecency of the thing, they were just as glad that he was keeping +away. Others, who had no claim to be privately informed, made inquiries +of the undertaker’s foreman, who said he understood the gentleman +objected to large funerals. Asked why, he said he supposed it was on the +ground of expense. This being met by a remark that Mr. Trefusis was very +wealthy, he added that he had been told so, but believed the money +had not come from the lady; that people seldom cared to go to a great +expense for a funeral unless they came into something good by the death; +and that some parties the more they had the more they grudged. Before +the funeral guests dispersed, the report spread by Mr. Jansenius’s +brother had got mixed with the views of the foreman, and had given rise +to a story of Trefusis expressing joy at his wife’s death with frightful +oaths in her father’s house whilst she lay dead there, and refusing to +pay a farthing of her debts or funeral expenses. + +Some days later, when gossip on the subject was subsiding, a fresh +scandal revived it. A literary friend of Mr. Jansenius’s helped him +to compose an epitaph, and added to it a couple of pretty and touching +stanzas, setting forth that Henrietta’s character had been one of rare +sweetness and virtue, and that her friends would never cease to sorrow +for her loss. A tradesman who described himself as a “monumental mason” + furnished a book of tomb designs, and Mr. Jansenius selected a highly +ornamental one, and proposed to defray half the cost of its erection. +Trefusis objected that the epitaph was untrue, and said that he did not +see why tombstones should be privileged to publish false statements. It +was reported that he had followed up his former misconduct by calling +his father-in-law a liar, and that he had ordered a common tombstone +from some cheap-jack at the East-end. He had, in fact, spoken +contemptuously of the monumental tradesman as an “exploiter” of labor, +and had asked a young working mason, a member of the International +Association, to design a monument for the gratification of Jansenius. + +The mason, with much pains and misgiving, produced an original design. +Trefusis approved of it, and resolved to have it executed by the hands +of the designer. He hired a sculptor’s studio, purchased blocks of +marble of the dimensions and quality described to him by the mason, and +invited him to set to work forthwith. + +Trefusis now encountered a difficulty. He wished to pay the mason the +just value of his work, no more and no less. But this he could not +ascertain. The only available standard was the market price, and this he +rejected as being fixed by competition among capitalists who could only +secure profit by obtaining from their workmen more products than they +paid them for, and could only tempt customers by offering a share of the +unpaid-for part of the products as a reduction in price. Thus he +found that the system of withholding the indispensable materials for +production and subsistence from the laborers, except on condition of +their supporting an idle class whilst accepting a lower standard +of comfort for themselves than for that idle class, rendered the +determination of just ratios of exchange, and consequently the practice +of honest dealing, impossible. He had at last to ask the mason what he +would consider fair payment for the execution of the design, though he +knew that the man could no more solve the problem than he, and that, +though he would certainly ask as much as he thought he could get, his +demand must be limited by his poverty and by the competition of the +monumental tradesman. Trefusis settled the matter by giving double what +was asked, only imposing such conditions as were necessary to compel the +mason to execute the work himself, and not make a profit by hiring other +men at the market rate of wages to do it. + +But the design was, to its author’s astonishment, to be paid +for separately. The mason, after hesitating a long time between +two-pounds-ten and five pounds, was emboldened by a fellow-workman, +who treated him to some hot whiskey and water, to name the larger sum. +Trefusis paid the money at once, and then set himself to find out how +much a similar design would have cost from the hands of an eminent +Royal Academician. Happening to know a gentleman in this position, he +consulted him, and was informed that the probable cost would be from +five hundred to one thousand pounds. Trefusis expressed his opinion that +the mason’s charge was the more reasonable, somewhat to the indignation +of his artist friend, who reminded him of the years which a Royal +Academician has to spend in acquiring his skill. Trefusis mentioned that +the apprenticeship of a mason was quite as long, twice as laborious, +and not half so pleasant. The artist now began to find Trefusis’s +Socialistic views, with which he had previously fancied himself in +sympathy, both odious and dangerous. He demanded whether nothing was +to be allowed for genius. Trefusis warmly replied that genius cost +its possessor nothing; that it was the inheritance of the whole race +incidentally vested in a single individual, and that if that individual +employed his monopoly of it to extort money from others, he deserved +nothing better than hanging. The artist lost his temper, and suggested +that if Trefusis could not feel that the prerogative of art was divine, +perhaps he could understand that a painter was not such a fool as to +design a tomb for five pounds when he might be painting a portrait for +a thousand. Trefusis retorted that the fact of a man paying a thousand +pounds for a portrait proved that he had not earned the money, and was +therefore either a thief or a beggar. The common workman who sacrificed +sixpence from his week’s wages for a cheap photograph to present to his +sweetheart, or a shilling for a pair of chromolithographic pictures +or delft figures to place on his mantelboard, suffered greater privation +for the sake of possessing a work of art than the great landlord or +shareholder who paid a thousand pounds, which he was too rich to miss, +for a portrait that, like Hogarth’s Jack Sheppard, was only interesting +to students of criminal physiognomy. A lively quarrel ensued, Trefusis +denouncing the folly of artists in fancying themselves a priestly caste +when they were obviously only the parasites and favored slaves of +the moneyed classes, and his friend (temporarily his enemy) sneering +bitterly at levellers who were for levelling down instead of levelling +up. Finally, tired of disputing, and remorseful for their acrimony, they +dined amicably together. + +The monument was placed in Highgate Cemetery by a small band of +workmen whom Trefusis found out of employment. It bore the following +inscription: + + +THIS IS THE MONUMENT OF HENRIETTA JANSENIUS WHO WAS BORN ON THE 26TH +JULY, 1856, MARRIED TO SIDNEY TREFUSIS ON THE 23RD AUGUST, 1875, AND WHO +DIED ON THE 21ST DECEMBER IN THE SAME YEAR. + +Mr. Jansenius took this as an insult to his daughter’s memory, and, +as the tomb was much smaller than many which had been erected in the +cemetery by families to whom the Janseniuses claimed superiority, cited +it as an example of the widower’s meanness. But by other persons it was +so much admired that Trefusis hoped it would ensure the prosperity of +its designer. The contrary happened. When the mason attempted to return +to his ordinary work he was informed that he had contravened trade +usage, and that his former employers would have nothing more to say to +him. On applying for advice and assistance to the trades-union of which +he was a member he received the same reply, and was further reproached +for treachery to his fellow-workmen. He returned to Trefusis to say +that the tombstone job had ruined him. Trefusis, enraged, wrote an +argumentative letter to the “Times,” which was not inserted, a sarcastic +one to the trades-union, which did no good, and a fierce one to the +employers, who threatened to take an action for libel. He had to content +himself with setting the man to work again on mantelpieces and other +decorative stone-work for use in house property on the Trefusis +estate. In a year or two his liberal payments enabled the mason to save +sufficient to start as an employer, in which capacity he soon began to +grow rich, as he knew by experience exactly how much his workmen could +be forced to do, and how little they could be forced to take. Shortly +after this change in his circumstances he became an advocate of +thrift, temperance, and steady industry, and quitted the International +Association, of which he had been an enthusiastic supporter when +dependent on his own skill and taste as a working mason. + +During these occurrences Agatha’s school-life ended. Her resolution to +study hard during another term at the college had been formed, not for +the sake of becoming learned, but that she might become more worthy of +Smilash; and when she learned the truth about him from his own lips, the +idea of returning to the scene of that humiliation became intolerable +to her. She left under the impression that her heart was broken, for +her smarting vanity, by the law of its own existence, would not perceive +that it was the seat of the injury. So she bade Miss Wilson adieu; and +the bee on the window pane was heard no more at Alton College. + +The intelligence of Henrietta’s death shocked her the more because she +could not help being glad that the only other person who knew of +her folly with regard to Smilash (himself excepted) was now silenced +forever. This seemed to her a terrible discovery of her own depravity. +Under its influence she became almost religious, and caused some +anxiety about her health to her mother, who was puzzled by her unwonted +seriousness, and, in particular, by her determination not to speak +of the misconduct of Trefusis, which was now the prevailing topic +of conversation in the family. She listened in silence to gossiping +discussions of his desertion of his wife, his heartless indifference +to her decease, his violence and bad language by her deathbed, his +parsimony, his malicious opposition to the wishes of the Janseniuses, +his cheap tombstone with the insulting epitaph, his association with +common workmen and low demagogues, his suspected connection with a +secret society for the assassination of the royal family and blowing +up of the army, his atheistic denial, in a pamphlet addressed to the +clergy, of a statement by the Archbishop of Canterbury that spiritual +aid alone could improve the condition of the poor in the East-end of +London, and the crowning disgrace of his trial for seditious libel at +the Old Bailey, where he was condemned to six months’ imprisonment; a +penalty from which he was rescued by the ingenuity of his counsel, who +discovered a flaw in the indictment, and succeeded, at great cost to +Trefusis, in getting the sentence quashed. Agatha at last got tired of +hearing of his misdeeds. She believed him to be heartless, selfish, and +misguided, but she knew that he was not the loud, coarse, sensual, and +ignorant brawler most of her mother’s gossips supposed him to be. She +even felt, in spite of herself, an emotion of gratitude to the few who +ventured to defend him. + +Preparation for her first season helped her to forget her misadventure. +She “came out” in due time, and an extremely dull season she found it. +So much so, that she sometimes asked herself whether she should ever be +happy again. At the college there had been good fellowship, fun, rules, +and duties which were a source of strength when observed and a source +of delicious excitement when violated, freedom from ceremony, toffee +making, flights on the banisters, and appreciative audiences for the +soldier in the chimney. + +In society there were silly conversations lasting half a minute, cool +acquaintanceships founded on such half-minutes, general reciprocity +of suspicion, overcrowding, insufficient ventilation, bad music badly +executed, late hours, unwholesome food, intoxicating liquors, jealous +competition in useless expenditure, husband-hunting, flirting, dancing, +theatres, and concerts. The last three, which Agatha liked, helped to +make the contrast between Alton and London tolerable to her, but +they had their drawbacks, for good partners at the dances, and good +performances at the spiritless opera and concerts, were disappointingly +scarce. Flirting she could not endure; she drove men away when they +became tender, seeing in them the falsehood of Smilash without his wit. +She was considered rude by the younger gentlemen of her circle. They +discussed her bad manners among themselves, and agreed to punish her by +not asking her to dance. She thus got rid, without knowing why, of +the attentions she cared for least (she retained a schoolgirl’s cruel +contempt for “boys”), and enjoyed herself as best she could with such of +the older or more sensible men as were not intolerant of girls. + +At best the year was the least happy she had ever spent. She repeatedly +alarmed her mother by broaching projects of becoming a hospital nurse, +a public singer, or an actress. These projects led to some desultory +studies. In order to qualify herself as a nurse she read a handbook of +physiology, which Mrs. Wylie thought so improper a subject for a young +lady that she went in tears to beg Mrs. Jansenius to remonstrate with +her unruly girl. Mrs. Jansenius, better advised, was of opinion that the +more a woman knew the more wisely she was likely to act, and that Agatha +would soon drop the physiology of her own accord. This proved true. +Agatha, having finished her book by dint of extensive skipping, +proceeded to study pathology from a volume of clinical lectures. Finding +her own sensations exactly like those described in the book as symptoms +of the direst diseases, she put it by in alarm, and took up a novel, +which was free from the fault she had found in the lectures, inasmuch +as none of the emotions it described in the least resembled any she had +ever experienced. + +After a brief interval, she consulted a fashionable teacher of singing +as to whether her voice was strong enough for the operatic stage. He +recommended her to study with him for six years, assuring her that at +the end of that period--if she followed his directions--she should be +the greatest singer in the world. To this there was, in her mind, the +conclusive objection that in six years she should be an old woman. So +she resolved to try privately whether she could not get on more quickly +by herself. Meanwhile, with a view to the drama in case her operatic +scheme should fail, she took lessons in elocution and gymnastics. +Practice in these improved her health and spirits so much that her +previous aspirations seemed too limited. She tried her hand at all the +arts in succession, but was too discouraged by the weakness of her first +attempts to persevere. She knew that as a general rule there are feeble +and ridiculous beginnings to all excellence, but she never applied +general rules to her own case, still thinking of herself as an exception +to them, just as she had done when she romanced about Smilash. The +illusions of adolescence were thick upon her. + +Meanwhile her progress was creating anxieties in which she had no share. +Her paroxysms of exhilaration, followed by a gnawing sense of failure +and uselessness, were known to her mother only as “wildness” and “low +spirits,” to be combated by needlework as a sedative, or beef tea as a +stimulant. Mrs. Wylie had learnt by rote that the whole duty of a lady +is to be graceful, charitable, helpful, modest, and disinterested whilst +awaiting passively whatever lot these virtues may induce. But she +had learnt by experience that a lady’s business in society is to get +married, and that virtues and accomplishments alike are important only +as attractions to eligible bachelors. As this truth is shameful, young +ladies are left for a year or two to find it out for themselves; it is +seldom explicitly conveyed to them at their entry into society. Hence +they often throw away capital bargains in their first season, and +are compelled to offer themselves at greatly reduced prices +subsequently, when their attractions begin to stale. This was the fate +which Mrs. Wylie, warned by Mrs. Jansenius, feared for Agatha, who, time +after time when a callow gentleman of wealth and position was introduced +to her, drove him brusquely away as soon as he ventured to hint that his +affections were concerned in their acquaintanceship. The anxious mother +had to console herself with the fact that her daughter drove away the +ineligible as ruthlessly as the eligible, formed no unworldly +attachments, was still very young, and would grow less coy as she +advanced in years and in what Mrs. Jansenius called sense. + +But as the seasons went by it remained questionable whether Agatha was +the more to be congratulated on having begun life after leaving school +or Henrietta on having finished it. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Brandon Beeches, in the Thames valley, was the seat of Sir Charles +Brandon, seventh baronet of that name. He had lost his father before +attaining his majority, and had married shortly afterwards; so that in +his twenty-fifth year he was father to three children. He was a little +worn, in spite of his youth, but he was tall and agreeable, had a +winning way of taking a kind and soothing view of the misfortunes of +others, could tell a story well, liked music and could play and sing +a little, loved the arts of design and could sketch a little in water +colors, read every magazine from London to Paris that criticised +pictures, had travelled a little, fished a little, shot a little, +botanized a little, wandered restlessly in the footsteps of women, and +dissipated his energies through all the small channels that his wealth +opened and his talents made easy to him. He had no large knowledge of +any subject, though he had looked into many just far enough to replace +absolute unconsciousness of them with measurable ignorance. Never having +enjoyed the sense of achievement, he was troubled with unsatisfied +aspirations that filled him with melancholy and convinced him that he +was a born artist. His wife found him selfish, peevish, hankering after +change, and prone to believe that he was attacked by dangerous disease +when he was only catching cold. + +Lady Brandon, who believed that he understood all the subjects he +talked about because she did not understand them herself, was one of +his disappointments. In person she resembled none of the types of beauty +striven after by the painters of her time, but she had charms to which +few men are insensible. She was tall, soft, and stout, with ample and +shapely arms, shoulders, and hips. With her small head, little ears, +pretty lips, and roguish eye, she, being a very large creature, +presented an immensity of half womanly, half infantile loveliness which +smote even grave men with a desire to clasp her in their arms and kiss +her. This desire had scattered the desultory intellectual culture of Sir +Charles at first sight. His imagination invested her with the taste for +the fine arts which he required from a wife, and he married her in her +first season, only to discover that the amativeness in her temperament +was so little and languid that she made all his attempts at fondness +ridiculous, and robbed the caresses for which he had longed of all their +anticipated ecstasy. Intellectually she fell still further short of his +hopes. She looked upon his favorite art of painting as a pastime for +amateur and a branch of the house-furnishing trade for professional +artists. When he was discussing it among his friends, she would +offer her opinion with a presumption which was the more trying as she +frequently blundered upon a sound conclusion whilst he was reasoning his +way to a hollow one with his utmost subtlety and seriousness. On such +occasions his disgust did not trouble her in the least; she triumphed in +it. She had concluded that marriage was a greater folly, and men greater +fools, than she had supposed; but such beliefs rather lightened her +sense of responsibility than disappointed her, and, as she had plenty of +money, plenty of servants, plenty of visitors, and plenty of exercise +on horseback, of which she was immoderately fond, her time passed +pleasantly enough. Comfort seemed to her the natural order of life; +trouble always surprised her. Her husband’s friends, who mistrusted +every future hour, and found matter for bitter reflection in many past +ones, were to her only examples of the power of sedentary habits and +excessive reading to make men tripped and dull. + +One fine May morning, as she cantered along the avenue at Brandon +Beeches on a powerful bay horse, the gates at the end opened and a young +man sped through them on a bicycle. He was of slight frame, with fine +dark eyes and delicate nostrils. When he recognized Lady Brandon he +waved his cap, and when they met he sprang from his inanimate steed, at +which the bay horse shied. + +“Don’t, you silly beast!” she cried, whacking the animal with the butt +of her whip. “Though it’s natural enough, goodness knows! How d’ye do? +The idea of anyone rich enough to afford a horse riding on a wheel like +that!” + +“But I am not rich enough to afford a horse,” he said, approaching her +to pat the bay, having placed the bicycle against a tree. “Besides, I am +afraid of horses, not being accustomed to them; and I know nothing about +feeding them. My steed needs no food. He doesn’t bite nor kick. He never +goes lame, nor sickens, nor dies, nor needs a groom, nor--” + +“That’s all bosh,” said Lady Brandon impetuously. “It stumbles, and +gives you the most awful tosses, and it goes lame by its treadles and +thingamejigs coming off, and it wears out, and is twice as much trouble +to keep clean and scrape the mud off as a horse, and all sorts of +things. I think the most ridiculous sight in the world is a man on a +bicycle, working away with his feet as hard as he possibly can, and +believing that his horse is carrying him instead of, as anyone can see, +he carrying the horse. You needn’t tell me that it isn’t easier to walk +in the ordinary way than to drag a great dead iron thing along with you. +It’s not good sense.” + +“Nevertheless I can carry it a hundred miles further in a day than I can +carry myself alone. Such are the marvels of machinery. But I know that +we cut a very poor figure beside you and that magnificent creature not +that anyone will look at me whilst you are by to occupy their attention +so much more worthily.” + +She darted a glance at him which clouded his vision and made his heart +beat more strongly. This was an old habit of hers. She kept it up from +love of fun, having no idea of the effect it produced on more ardent +temperaments than her own. He continued hastily: + +“Is Sir Charles within doors?” + +“Oh, it’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of in my life,” she +exclaimed. “A man that lives by himself in a place down by the Riverside +Road like a toy savings bank--don’t you know the things I mean?--called +Sallust’s House, says there is a right of way through our new pleasure +ground. As if anyone could have any right there after all the money we +have spent fencing it on three sides, and building up the wall by the +road, and levelling, and planting, and draining, and goodness knows what +else! And now the man says that all the common people and tramps in the +neighborhood have a right to walk across it because they are too lazy to +go round by the road. Sir Charles has gone to see the man about it. Of +course he wouldn’t do as I wanted him.” + +“What was that?” + +“Write to tell the man to mind his own business, and to say that the +first person we found attempting to trespass on our property should be +given to the police.” + +“Then I shall find no one at home. I beg your pardon for calling it so, +but it is the only place like home to me.” + +“Yes; it is so comfortable since we built the billiard room and took +away those nasty hangings in the hall. I was ever so long trying to +per--” + +She was interrupted by an old laborer, who hobbled up as fast as his +rheumatism would allow him, and began to speak without further ceremony +than snatching off his cap. + +“Th’ave coom to the noo groups, my lady, crowds of ‘em. An’ a parson +with ‘em, an’ a flag! Sur Chorles he don’t know what to say; an’ sooch +doin’s never was.” + +Lady Brandon turned pale and pulled at her horse as if to back him out +of some danger. Her visitor, puzzled, asked the old man what he meant. + +“There’s goin’ to be a proceyshon through the noo groups,” he replied, +“an’ the master can’t stop ‘em. Th’ave throon down the wall; three yards +of it is lyin’ on Riverside Road. An’ there’s a parson with ‘em, and a +flag. An’ him that lives in Sallust’s hoos, he’s there, hoddin’ ‘em on.” + +“Thrown down the wall!” exclaimed Lady Brandon, scarlet with indignation +and pale with apprehension by turns. “What a disgraceful thing! Where +are the police? Chester, will you come with me and see what they are +doing? Sir Charles is no use. Do you think there is any danger?” + +“There’s two police,” said the old man, “an’ him that lives at Sallust’s +dar’d them stop him. They’re lookin’ on. An’ there’s a parson among ‘em. +I see him pullin’ away at the wall with his own han’s.” + +“I will go and see the fun,” said Chester. + +Lady Brandon hesitated. But her anger and curiosity vanquished her +fears. She overtook the bicycle, and they went together through the +gates and by the highroad to the scene the old man had described. A heap +of bricks and mortar lay in the roadway on each side of a breach in +the newly built wall, over which Lady Brandon, from her eminence on +horseback, could see, coming towards her across the pleasure ground, a +column of about thirty persons. They marched three abreast in good order +and in silence; the expression of all except a few mirthful faces being +that of devotees fulfilling a rite. The gravity of the procession was +deepened by the appearance of a clergyman in its ranks, which were +composed of men of the middle class, and a few workmen carrying a banner +inscribed THE SOIL or ENGLAND THE BIRTHRIGHT OF ALL HER PEOPLE. There +were also four women, upon whom Lady Brandon looked with intense +indignation and contempt. None of the men of the neighborhood had dared +to join; they stood in the road whispering, and occasionally venturing +to laugh at the jests of a couple of tramps who had stopped to see the +fun, and who cared nothing for Sir Charles. + +He, standing a little way within the field, was remonstrating angrily +with a man of his own class, who stood with his back to the breach and +his hands in the pockets of his snuff-colored clothes, contemplating +the procession with elate satisfaction. Lady Brandon, at once suspecting +that this was the man from Sallust’s House, and encouraged by the +loyalty of the crowd, most of whom made way for her and touched their +hats, hit the bay horse smartly with her whip and rode him, with a +clatter of hoofs and scattering of clods, right at the snuff-colored +enemy, who had to spring hastily aside to avoid her. There was a roar +of laughter from the roadway, and the man turned sharply on her. But he +suddenly smiled affably, replaced his hands in his pockets after raising +his hat, and said: + +“How do you do, Miss Carpenter? I thought you were a charge of cavalry.” + +“I am not Miss Carpenter, I am Lady Brandon; and you ought to be +ashamed of yourself, Mr. Smilash, if it is you that have brought these +disgraceful people here.” + +His eyes as he replied were eloquent with reproach to her for being +no longer Miss Carpenter. “I am not Smilash,” he said; “I am Sidney +Trefusis. I have just had the pleasure of meeting Sir Charles for +the first time, and we shall be the best friends possible when I have +convinced him that it is hardly fair to seize on a path belonging to +the people and compel them to walk a mile and a half round his estate +instead of four hundred yards between two portions of it.” + +“I have already told you, sir,” said Sir Charles, “that I intend to open +a still shorter path, and to allow all the well-conducted work-people to +pass through twice a day. This will enable them to go to their work +and return from it; and I will be at the cost of keeping the path in +repair.” + +“Thank you,” said Trefusis drily; “but why should we trouble you when +we have a path of our own to use fifty times a day if we choose, +without any man barring our way until our conduct happens to please him? +Besides, your next heir would probably shut the path up the moment he +came into possession.” + +“Offering them a path is just what makes them impudent,” said Lady +Brandon to her husband. “Why did you promise them anything? They would +not think it a hardship to walk a mile and a half, or twenty miles, to +a public-house, but when they go to their work they think it dreadful +to have to walk a yard. Perhaps they would like us to lend them the +wagonette to drive in?” + +“I have no doubt they would,” said Trefusis, beaming at her. + +“Pray leave me to manage here, Jane; this is no place for you. Bring +Erskine to the house. He must be--” + +“Why don’t the police make them go away?” said Lady Brandon, too excited +to listen to her husband. + +“Hush, Jane, pray. What can three men do against thirty or forty?” + +“They ought to take up somebody as an example to the rest.” + +“They have offered, in the handsomest manner, to arrest me if Sir +Charles will give me in charge,” said Trefusis. + +“There!” said Lady Jane, turning to her husband. “Why don’t you give +him--or someone--in charge?” + +“You know nothing about it,” said Sir Charles, vexed by a sense that she +was publicly making him ridiculous. + +“If you don’t, I will,” she persisted. “The idea of having our ground +broken into and our new wall knocked down! A nice state of things it +would be if people were allowed to do as they liked with other peoples’ +property. I will give every one of them in charge.” + +“Would you consign me to a dungeon?” said Trefusis, in melancholy tones. + +“I don’t mean you exactly,” she said, relenting. “But I will give +that clergyman into charge, because he ought to know better. He is the +ringleader of the whole thing.” + +“He will be delighted, Lady Brandon; he pines for martyrdom. But will +you really give him into custody?” + +“I will,” she said vehemently, emphasizing the assurance by a plunge in +the saddle that made the bay stagger. + +“On what charge?” he said, patting the horse and looking up at her. + +“I don’t care what charge,” she replied, conscious that she was being +admired, and not displeased. “Let them take him up, that’s all.” + +Human beings on horseback are so far centaurs that liberties taken with +their horses are almost as personal as liberties taken with themselves. +When Sir Charles saw Trefusis patting the bay he felt as much outraged +as if Lady Brandon herself were being patted, and he felt bitterly +towards her for permitting the familiarity. He uas relieved by the +arrival of the procession. It halted as the leader came up to Trefusis, +who said gravely: + +“Gentlemen, I congratulate you on the firmness with which you have this +day asserted the rights of the people of this place to the use of one of +the few scraps of mother earth of which they have not been despoiled.” + +“Gentlemen,” shouted an excited member of the procession, “three cheers +for the resumption of the land of England by the people of England! Hip, +hip, hurrah!” + +The cheers were given with much spirit, Sir Charles’s cheeks becoming +redder at each repetition. He looked angrily at the clergyman, now +distracted by the charms of Lady Brandon, whose scorn, as she surveyed +the crowd, expressed itself by a pout which became her pretty lips +extremely. + +Then a middle-aged laborer stepped from the road into the field, hat in +hand, ducked respectfully, and said: “Look ‘e here, Sir Charles. Don’t +‘e mind them fellers. There ain’t a man belonging to this neighborhood +among ‘em; not one in your employ or on your land. Our dooty to you and +your ladyship, and we will trust to you to do what is fair by us. We +want no interlopers from Lunnon to get us into trouble with your honor, +and--” + +“You unmitigated cur,” exclaimed Trefusis fiercely, “what right have you +to give away to his unborn children the liberty of your own?” + +“They’re not unborn,” said Lady Brandon indignantly. “That just shows +how little you know about it.” + +“No, nor mine either,” said the man, emboldened by her ladyship’s +support. “And who are you that call me a cur?” + +“Who am I! I am a rich man--one of your masters, and privileged to call +you what I please. You are a grovelling famine-broken slave. Now go and +seek redress against me from the law. I can buy law enough to ruin you +for less money than it would cost me to shoot deer in Scotland or vermin +here. How do you like that state of things? Eh?” + +The man was taken aback. “Sir Charles will stand by me,” he said, after +a pause, with assumed confidence, but with an anxious glance at the +baronet. + +“If he does, after witnessing the return you have made me for standing +by you, he is a greater fool than I take him to be.” + +“Gently, gently,” said the clergyman. “There is much excuse to be made +for the poor fellow.” + +“As gently as you please with any man that is a free man at heart,” said +Trefusis; “but slaves must be driven, and this fellow is a slave to the +marrow.” + +“Still, we must be patient. He does not know--” + +“He knows a great deal better than you do,” said Lady Brandon, +interrupting. “And the more shame for you, because you ought to know +best. I suppose you were educated somewhere. You will not be satisfied +with yourself when your bishop hears of this. Yes,” she added, turning +to Trefusis with an infantile air of wanting to cry and being forced +to laugh against her will, “you may laugh as much as you please--don’t +trouble to pretend it’s only coughing--but we will write to his bishop, +as he shall find to his cost.” + +“Hold your tongue, Jane, for God’s sake,” said Sir Charles, taking her +horse by the bridle and backing him from Trefusis. + +“I will not. If you choose to stand here and allow them to walk away +with the walls in their pockets, I don’t, and won’t. Why cannot you make +the police do something?” + +“They can do nothing,” said Sir Charles, almost beside himself with +humiliation. “I cannot do anything until I see my solicitor. How can you +bear to stay here wrangling with these fellows? It is SO undignified!” + +“It’s all very well to talk of dignity, but I don’t see the dignity of +letting people trample on our grounds without leave. Mr. Smilash, +will you make them all go away, and tell them that they shall all be +prosecuted and put in prison?” + +“They are going to the crossroads, to hold a public meeting and--of +course--make speeches. I am desired to say that they deeply regret that +their demonstration should have disturbed you personally, Lady Brandon.” + +“So they ought,” she replied. “They don’t look very sorry. They are +getting frightened at what they have done, and they would be glad to +escape the consequences by apologizing, most likely. But they shan’t. I +am not such a fool as they think.” + +“They don’t think so. You have proved the contrary.” + +“Jane,” said Sir Charles pettishly, “do you know this gentleman?” + +“I should think I do,” said Lady Brandon emphatically. + +Trefusis bowed as if he had just been formally introduced to the +baronet, who, against his will, returned the salutation stiffly, unable +to ignore an older, firmer, and quicker man under the circumstances. + +“This seems an unneighborly business, Sir Charles,” said Trefusis, quite +at his ease; “but as it is a public question, it need not prejudice our +private relations. At least I hope not.” + +Sir Charles bowed again, more stiffly than before. + +“I am, like you, a capitalist and landlord.” + +“Which it seems to me you have no right to be, if you are in earnest,” + struck in Chester, who had been watching the scene in silence by Sir +Charles’s side. + +“Which, as you say, I have undoubtedly no right to be,” said Trefusis, +surveying him with interest; “but which I nevertheless cannot help +being. Have I the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Chichester Erskine, author +of a tragedy entitled ‘The Patriot Martyrs,’ dedicated with enthusiastic +devotion to the Spirit of Liberty and half a dozen famous upholders of +that principle, and denouncing in forcible language the tyranny of the +late Tsar of Russia, Bomba of Naples, and Napoleon the Third?” + +“Yes, sir,” said Erskine, reddening; for he felt that this description +might make his drama seem ridiculous to those present who had not read +it. + +“Then,” said Trefusis, extending his hand--Erskine at first thought for +a hearty shake--“give me half-a-crown towards the cost of our expedition +here to-day to assert the right of the people to tread the soil we are +standing upon.” + +“You shall do nothing of the sort, Chester,” cried Lady Brandon. “I +never heard of such a thing in my life! Do you pay us for the wall and +fence your people have broken, Mr. Smilash; that would be more to the +purpose.” + +“If I could find a thousand men as practical as you, Lady Brandon, +I might accomplish the next great revolution before the end of this +season.” He looked at her for a moment curiously, as if trying to +remember; and then added inconsequently: “How are your friends? There +was a Miss--Miss--I am afraid I have forgotten all the names except your +own.” + +“Gertrude Lindsay is staying with us. Do you remember her?” + +“I think--no, I am afraid I do not. Let me see. Was she a haughty young +lady?” + +“Yes,” said Lady Brandon eagerly, forgetting the wall and fence. “But +who do you think is coming next Thursday? I met her accidentally the +last time I was in town. She’s not a bit changed. You can’t forget her, +so don’t pretend to be puzzled.” + +“You have not told me who she is yet. And I shall probably not remember +her. You must not expect me to recognize everyone instantaneously, as I +recognized you.” + +“What stuff! You will know Agatha fast enough.” + +“Agatha Wylie!” he said, with sudden gravity. + +“Yes. She is coming on Thursday. Are you glad?” + +“I fear I shall have no opportunity of seeing her.” + +“Oh, of course you must see her. It will be so jolly for us all to meet +again just as we used. Why can’t you come to luncheon on Thursday?” + +“I shall be delighted, if you will really allow me to come after my +conduct here.” + +“The lawyers will settle that. Now that you have found out who we are +you will stop pulling down our walls, of course.” + +“Of course,” said Trefusis, smiling, as he took out a pocket diary and +entered the engagement. “I must hurry away to the crossroads. They have +probably voted me into the chair by this time, and are waiting for me +to open their meeting. Good-bye. You have made this place, which I was +growing tired of, unexpectedly interesting to me.” + +They exchanged glances of the old college pattern. Then he nodded to +Sir Charles, waved his hand familiarly to Erskine, and followed the +procession, which was by this time out of sight. + +Sir Charles, who, waiting to speak, had been repeatedly baffled by the +hasty speeches of his wife and the unhesitating replies of Trefusis, now +turned angrily upon her, saying: + +“What do you mean by inviting that fellow to my house?” + +“Your house, indeed! I will invite whom I please. You are getting into +one of your tempers.” + +Sir Charles looked about him. Erskine had discreetly slipped away, and +was in the road, tightening a screw in his bicycle. The few persons who +remained were out of earshot. + +“Who and what the devil is he, and how do you come to know him?” he +demanded. He never swore in the presence of any lady except his wife, +and then only when they were alone. + +“He is a gentleman, which is more than you are,” she retorted, and, with +a cut of her whip that narrowly missed her husband’s shoulder, sent the +bay plunging through the gap. + +“Come along,” she said to Erskine. “We shall be late for luncheon.” + +“Had we not better wait for Sir Charles?” he asked injudiciously. + +“Never mind Sir Charles, he is in the sulks,” she said, without abating +her voice. “Come along.” And she went off at a canter, Erskine following +her with a misgiving that his visit was unfortunately timed. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +On the following Thursday Gertrude, Agatha, and Jane met for the first +time since they had parted at Alton College. Agatha was the shyest of +the three, and externally the least changed. She fancied herself very +different from the Agatha of Alton; but it was her opinion of herself +that had altered, not her person. Expecting to find a corresponding +alteration in her friends, she had looked forward to the meeting with +much doubt and little hope of its proving pleasant. + +She was more anxious about Gertrude than about Jane, concerning whom, +at a brief interview in London, she had already discovered that Lady +Brandon’s manner, mind, and speech were just what Miss Carpenter’s had +been. But, even from Agatha, Jane commanded more respect than before, +having changed from an overgrown girl into a fine woman, and made a +brilliant match in her first season, whilst many of her pretty, proud, +and clever contemporaries, whom she had envied at school, were still +unmarried, and were having their homes made uncomfortable by parents +anxious to get rid of the burthen of supporting them, and to profit in +purse or position by their marriages. + +This was Gertrude’s case. Like Agatha, she had thrown away her +matrimonial opportunities. Proud of her rank and exclusiveness, she had +resolved to have as little as possible to do with persons who did not +share both with her. She began by repulsing the proffered acquaintance +of many families of great wealth and fashion, who either did not know +their grandparents or were ashamed of them. Having shut herself out of +their circle, she was presented at court, and thenceforth accepted the +invitations of those only who had, in her opinion, a right to the same +honor. And she was far stricter on that point than the Lord Chamberlain, +who had, she held, betrayed his trust by practically turning Leveller. +She was well educated, refined in her manners and habits, skilled in +etiquette to an extent irritating to the ignorant, and gifted with +a delicate complexion, pearly teeth, and a face that would have been +Grecian but for a slight upward tilt of the nose and traces of a square, +heavy type in the jaw. Her father was a retired admiral, with sufficient +influence to have had a sinecure made by a Conservative government +expressly for the maintenance of his son pending alliance with some +heiress. Yet Gertrude remained single, and the admiral, who had formerly +spent more money than he could comfortably afford on her education, +and was still doing so upon her state and personal adornment, was +complaining so unpleasantly of her failure to get taken off his hands, +that she could hardly bear to live at home, and was ready to marry any +thoroughbred gentleman, however unsuitable his age or character, who +would relieve her from her humiliating dependence. She was prepared to +sacrifice her natural desire for youth, beauty, and virtue in a husband +if she could escape from her parents on no easier terms, but she was +resolved to die an old maid sooner than marry an upstart. + +The difficulty in her way was pecuniary. The admiral was poor. He +had not quite six thousand a year, and though he practiced the utmost +economy in order to keep up the most expensive habits, he could not +afford to give his daughter a dowry. Now the well born bachelors of +her set, having more blue bood, but much less wealth, than they needed, +admired her, paid her compliments, danced with her, but could not afford +to marry her. Some of them even told her so, married rich daughters of +tea merchants, iron founders, or successful stocktrokers, and then tried +to make matches between her and their lowly born brothers-in-law. + +So, when Gertrude met Lady Brandon, her lot was secretly wretched, and +she was glad to accept an invitation to Brandon Beeches in order to +escape for a while from the admiral’s daily sarcasms on the marriage +list in the “Times.” The invitation was the more acceptable because Sir +Charles was no mushroom noble, and, in the schooldays which Gertrude now +remembered as the happiest of her life, she had acknowledged that Jane’s +family and connections were more aristocratic than those of any other +student then at Alton, herself excepted. To Agatha, whose grandfather +had amassed wealth as a proprietor of gasworks (novelties in his time), +she had never offered her intimacy. Agatha had taken it by force, partly +moral, partly physical. But the gasworks were never forgotten, and when +Lady Brandon mentioned, as a piece of delightful news, that she had +found out their old school companion, and had asked her to join them, +Gertrude was not quite pleased. Yet, when they met, her eyes were the +only wet ones there, for she was the least happy of the three, and, +though she did not know it, her spirit was somewhat broken. Agatha, she +thought, had lost the bloom of girlhood, but was bolder, stronger, +and cleverer than before. Agatha had, in fact, summoned all her +self-possession to hide her shyness. She detected the emotion of +Gertrude, who at the last moment did not try to conceal it. It would +have been poured out freely in words, had Gertrude’s social training +taught her to express her feelings as well as it had accustomed her to +dissemble them. + +“Do you remember Miss Wilson?” said Jane, as the three drove from the +railway station to Brandon Beeches. “Do you remember Mrs. Miller and +her cat? Do you remember the Recording Angel? Do you remember how I fell +into the canal?” + +These reminiscences lasted until they reached the house and went +together to Agatha’s room. Here Jane, having some orders to give in +the household, had to leave them--reluctantly; for she was jealous +lest Gertrude should get the start of her in the renewal of Agatha’s +affection. She even tried to take her rival away with her; but in vain. +Gertrude would not budge. + +“What a beautiful house and splendid place!” said Agatha when Jane was +gone. “And what a nice fellow Sir Charles is! We used to laugh at Jane, +but she can afford to laugh at the luckiest of us now. I always said she +would blunder into the best of everything. Is it true that she married +in her first season?” + +“Yes. And Sir Charles is a man of great culture. I cannot understand it. +Her size is really beyond everything, and her manners are bad.” + +“Hm!” said Agatha with a wise air. “There was always something about +Jane that attracted men. And she is more knave than fool. But she is +certainly a great ass.” + +Gertrude looked serious, to imply that she had grown out of the habit +of using or listening to such language. Agatha, stimulated by this, +continued: + +“Here are you and I, who consider ourselves twice as presentable and +conversable as she, two old maids.” Gertrude winced, and Agatha hastened +to add: “Why, as for you, you are perfectly lovely! And she has asked us +down expressly to marry us.” + +“She would not presume--” + +“Nonsense, my dear Gertrude. She thinks that we are a couple of fools +who have mismanaged our own business, and that she, having managed so +well for herself, can settle us in a jiffy. Come, did she not say to +you, before I came, that it was time for me to be getting married?” + +“Well, she did. But--” + +“She said exactly the same thing to me about you when she invited me.” + +“I would leave her house this moment,” said Gertrude, “if I thought she +dared meddle in my affairs. What is it to her whether I am married or +not?” + +“Where have you been living all these years, if you do not know that the +very first thing a woman wants to do when she has made a good match is +to make ones for all her spinster friends. Jane does not mean any harm. +She does it out of pure benevolence.” + +“I do not need Jane’s benevolence.” + +“Neither do I; but it doesn’t do any harm, and she is welcome to amuse +herself by trotting out her male acquaintances for my approval. Hush! +Here she comes.” + +Gertrude subsided. She could not quarrel with Lady Brandon without +leaving the house, and she could not leave the house without returning +to her home. But she privately resolved to discourage the attentions +of Erskine, suspecting that instead of being in love with her as he +pretended, he had merely been recommended by Jane to marry her. + +Chichester Erskine had made sketches in Palestine with Sir Charles, and +had tramped with him through many European picture galleries. He was a +young man of gentle birth, and had inherited fifteen hundred a year from +his mother, the bulk of the family property being his elder brother’s. +Having no profession, and being fond of books and pictures, he had +devoted himself to fine art, a pursuit which offered him on the cheapest +terms a high opinion of the beauty and capacity of his own nature. He +had published a tragedy entitled, “The Patriot Martyrs,” with an etched +frontispiece by Sir Charles, and an edition of it had been speedily +disposed of in presentations to the friends of the artist and poet, +and to the reviews and newspapers. Sir Charles had asked an eminent +tragedian of his acquaintance to place the work on the stage and to +enact one of the patriot martyrs. But the tragedian had objected that +the other patriot martyrs had parts of equal importance to that proposed +for him. Erskine had indignantly refused to cut these parts down or out, +and so the project had fallen through. + +Since then Erskine had been bent on writing another drama, without +regard to the exigencies of the stage, but he had not yet begun it, in +consequence of his inspiration coming upon him at inconvenient hours, +chiefly late at night, when he had been drinking, and had leisure for +sonnets only. The morning air and bicycle riding were fatal to the +vein in which poetry struck him as being worth writing. In spite of the +bicycle, however, the drama, which was to be entitled “Hypatia,” was +now in a fair way to be written, for the poet had met and fallen in love +with Gertrude Lindsay, whose almost Grecian features, and some knowledge +of the different calculua which she had acquired at Alton, helped him to +believe that she was a fit model for his heroine. + +When the ladies came downstairs they found their host and Erskine in the +picture gallery, famous in the neighborhood for the sum it had cost Sir +Charles. There was a new etching to be admired, and they were called on +to observe what the baronet called its tones, and what Agatha would have +called its degrees of smudginess. Sir Charles’s attention often wandered +from this work of art. He looked at his watch twice, and said to his +wife: + +“I have ordered them to be punctual with the luncheon.” + +“Oh, yes; it’s all right,” said Lady Brandon, who had given orders that +luncheon was not to be served until the arrival of another gentleman. +“Show Agatha the picture of the man in the--” + +“Mr. Trefusis,” said a servant. + +Mr. Trefusis, still in snuff color, entered; coat unbuttoned and +attention unconstrained; exasperatingly unconscious of any occasion for +ceremony. + +“Here you are at last,” said Lady Brandon. “You know everybody, don’t +you?” + +“How do you do?” said Sir Charles, offering his hand as a severe +expression of his duty to his wife’s guest, who took it cordially, +nodded to Erskine, looked without recognition at Gertrude, whose frosty +stillness repudiated Lady Brandon’s implication that the stranger was +acquainted with her, and turned to Agatha, to whom he bowed. She made no +sign; she was paralyzed. Lady Brandon reddened with anger. Sir Charles +noted his guest’s reception with secret satisfaction, but shared the +embarrassment which oppressed all present except Trefusis, who seemed +quite indifferent and assured, and unconsciously produced an impression +that the others had not been equal to the occasion, as indeed they had +not. + +“We were looking at some etchings when you came in,” said Sir Charles, +hastening to break the silence. “Do you care for such things?” And he +handed him a proof. + +Trefusis looked at it as if he had never seen such a thing before and +did not quite know what to make of it. “All these scratches seem to me +to have no meaning,” he said dubiously. + +Sir Charles stole a contemptuous smile and significant glance at +Erskine. He, seized already with an instinctive antipathy to Trefusis, +said emphatically: + +“There is not one of those scratches that has not a meaning.” + +“That one, for instance, like the limb of a daddy-long-legs. What does +that mean?” + +Erskine hesitated a moment; recovered himself; and said: “Obviously +enough--to me at least--it indicates the marking of the roadway.” + +“Not a bit of it,” said Trefusis. “There never was such a mark as that +on a road. It may be a very bad attempt at a briar, but briars don’t +straggle into the middle of roads frequented as that one seems to +be--judging by those overdone ruts.” He put the etching away, showing no +disposition to look further into the portfolio, and remarked, “The only +art that interests me is photography.” + +Erskine and Sir Charles again exchanged glances, and the former said: + +“Photography is not an art in the sense in which I understand the term. +It is a process.” + +“And a much less troublesome and more perfect process than that,” said +Trefusis, pointing to the etching. “The artists are sticking to the old +barbarous, difficult, and imperfect processes of etching and portrait +painting merely to keep up the value of their monopoly of the required +skill. They have left the new, more complexly organized, and more +perfect, yet simple and beautiful method of photography in the hands +of tradesmen, sneering at it publicly and resorting to its aid +surreptitiously. The result is that the tradesmen are becoming better +artists than they, and naturally so; for where, as in photography, +the drawing counts for nothing, the thought and judgment count for +everything; whereas in the etching and daubing processes, where great +manual skill is needed to produce anything that the eye can endure, the +execution counts for more than the thought, and if a fellow only fit +to carry bricks up a ladder or the like has ambition and perseverance +enough to train his hand and push into the van, you cannot afford to put +him back into his proper place, because thoroughly trained hands are +so scarce. Consider the proof of this that you have in literature. Our +books are manually the work of printers and papermakers; you may cut +an author’s hand off and he is as good an author as before. What is the +result? There is more imagination in any number of a penny journal than +in half-a-dozen of the Royal Academy rooms in the season. No author +can live by his work and be as empty-headed as an average successful +painter. Again, consider our implements of music--our pianofortes, for +example. Nobody but an acrobat will voluntarily spend years at such a +difficult mechanical puzzle as the keyboard, and so we have to take our +impressions of Beethoven’s sonatas from acrobats who vie with each other +in the rapidity of their prestos, or the staying power of their +left wrists. Thoughtful men will not spend their lives acquiring +sleight-of-hand. Invent a piano which will respond as delicately to +the turning of a handle as our present ones do to the pressure of the +fingers, and the acrobats will be driven back to their carpets and +trapezes, because the sole faculty necessary to the executant musician +will be the musical faculty, and no other will enable him to obtain a +hearing.” + +The company were somewhat overcome by this unexpected lecture. Sir +Charles, feeling that such views bore adversely on him, and were somehow +iconoclastic and low-lived, was about to make a peevish retort, when +Erskine forestalled him by asking Trefusis what idea he had formed of +the future of the arts. He replied promptly. “Photography perfected +in its recently discovered power of reproducing color as well as form! +Historical pictures replaced by photographs of tableaux vivants formed +and arranged by trained actors and artists, and used chiefly for the +instruction of children. Nine-tenths of painting as we understand it at +present extinguished by the competition of these photographs, and +the remaining tenth only holding its own against them by dint of +extraordinary excellence! Our mistuned and unplayable organs and +pianofortes replaced by harmonious instruments, as manageable as +barrel organs! Works of fiction superseded by interesting company +and conversation, and made obsolete by the human mind outgrowing the +childishness that delights in the tales told by grownup children such as +novelists and their like! An end to the silly confusion, under the one +name of Art, of the tomfoolery and make-believe of our play-hours with +the higher methods of teaching men to know themselves! Every artist an +amateur, and a consequent return to the healthy old disposition to look +on every man who makes art a means of money-getting as a vagabond not to +be entertained as an equal by honest men!” + +“In which case artists will starve, and there will be no more art.” + +“Sir,” said Trefusis, excited by the word, “I, as a Socialist, can tell +you that starvation is now impossible, except where, as in England, +masterless men are forcibly prevented from producing the food they +need. And you, as an artist, can tell me that at present great artists +invariably do starve, except when they are kept alive by charity, +private fortune, or some drudgery which hinders them in the pursuit of +their vocation.” + +“Oh!” said Erskine. “Then Socialists have some little sympathy with +artists after all.” + +“I fear,” said Trefusis, repressing himself and speaking quietly again, +“that when a Socialist hears of a hundred pounds paid for a drawing +which Andrea del Sarto was glad to sell for tenpence, his heart is not +wrung with pity for the artist’s imaginary loss as that of a modern +capitalist is. Yet that is the only way nowadays of enlisting sympathy +for the old masters. Frightful disability, to be out of the reach of +the dearest market when you want to sell your drawings! But,” he added, +giving himself a shake, and turning round gaily, “I did not come here +to talk shop. So--pending the deluge--let us enjoy ourselves after our +manner.” + +“No,” said Jane. “Please go on about Art. It’s such a relief to hear +anyone talking sensibly about it. I hate etching. It makes your eyes +sore--at least the acid gets into Sir Charles’s, and the difference +between the first and second states is nothing but imagination, except +that the last state is worse than the--here’s luncheon!” + +They went downstairs then. Trefusis sat between Agatha and Lady Brandon, +to whom he addressed all his conversation. They chatted without much +interruption from the business of the table; for Jane, despite her +amplitude, had a small appetite, and was fearful of growing fat; whilst +Trefusis was systematically abstemious. Sir Charles was unusually +silent. He was afraid to talk about art, lest he should be contradicted +by Trefusis, who, he already felt, cared less and perhaps knew more +about it than he. Having previously commented to Agatha on the beauty of +the ripening spring, and inquired whether her journey had fatigued her, +he had said as much as he could think of at a first meeting. For her +part, she was intent on Trefusis, who, though he must know, she thought, +that they were all hostile to him except Jane, seemed as confident now +as when he had befooled her long ago. That thought set her teeth on +edge. She did not doubt the sincerity of her antipathy to him even when +she detected herself in the act of protesting inwardly that she was not +glad to meet him again, and that she would not speak to him. Gertrude, +meanwhile, was giving short answers to Erskine and listening to +Trefusis. She had gathered from the domestic squabbles of the last +few days that Lady Brandon, against her husband’s will, had invited a +notorious demagogue, the rich son of a successful cotton-spinner, to +visit the Beeches. She had made up her mind to snub any such man. But on +recognizing the long-forgotten Smilash, she had been astonished, and +had not known what to do. So, to avoid doing anything improper, she had +stood stilly silent and done nothing, as the custom of English ladies in +such cases is. Subsequently, his unconscious self-assertion had wrought +with her as with the others, and her intention of snubbing him had faded +into the limbo of projects abandoned without trial. Erskine alone was +free from the influence of the intruder. He wished himself elsewhere; +but beside Gertrude the presence or absence of any other person troubled +him very little. + +“How are the Janseniuses?” said Trefusis, suddenly turning to Agatha. + +“They are quite well, thank you,” she said in measured tones. + +“I met John Jansenius in the city lately. You know Jansenius?” he added +parenthetically to Sir Charles. “Cotman’s bank--the last Cotman died +out of the firm before we were born. The Chairman of the Transcanadian +Railway Company.” + +“I know the name. I am seldom in the city.” + +“Naturally,” assented Trefusis; “for who would sadden himself by pushing +his way through a crowd of such slaves, if he could help it? I mean +slaves of Mammon, of course. To run the gauntlet of their faces in +Cornhill is enough to discourage a thoughtful man for hours. Well, +Jansenius, being high in the court of Mammon, is looking out for a good +post in the household for his son. Jansenius, by-the-bye is Miss Wylie’s +guardian and the father of my late wife.” + +Agatha felt inclined to deny this; but, as it was true, she had to +forbear. Resolved to show that the relations between her family and +Trefusis were not cordial ones, she asked deliberately, “Did Mr. +Jansenius speak to you?” + +Gertrude looked up, as if she thought this scarcely ladylike. + +“Yes,” said Trefusis. “We are the best friends in the world--as good as +possible, at any rate. He wanted me to subscribe to a fund for relieving +the poor at the east end of London by assisting them to emigrate.” + +“I presume you subscribed liberally,” said Erskine. “It was an +opportunity of doing some practical good.” + +“I did not,” said Trefusis, grinning at the sarcasm. “This Transcanadian +Railway Company, having got a great deal of spare land from the Canadian +government for nothing, thought it would be a good idea to settle +British workmen on it and screw rent out of them. Plenty of British +workmen, supplanted in their employment by machinery, or cheap foreign +labor, or one thing or another, were quite willing to go; but as they +couldn’t afford to pay their passages to Canada, the Company appealed +to the benevolent to pay for them by subscription, as the change would +improve their miserable condition. I did not see why I should pay to +provide a rich company with tenant farmers, and I told Jansenius so. +He remarked that when money and not talk was required, the workmen of +England soon found out who were their real friends.” + +“I know nothing about these questions,” said Sir Charles, with an air +of conclusiveness; “but I see no objection to emigration.” “The fact +is,” said Trefusis, “the idea of emigration is a dangerous one for us. +Familiarize the workman with it, and some day he may come to see what a +capital thing it would be to pack off me, and you, with the peerage, +and the whole tribe of unprofitable proprietors such as we are, to St. +Helena; making us a handsome present of the island by way of indemnity! +We are such a restless, unhappy lot, that I doubt whether it would not +prove a good thing for us too. The workmen would lose nothing but the +contemplation of our elegant persons, exquisite manners, and refined +tastes. They might provide against that loss by picking out a few of +us to keep for ornament’s sake. No nation with a sense of beauty would +banish Lady Brandon, or Miss Lindsay, or Miss Wylie.” + +“Such nonsense!” said Jane. + +“You would hardly believe how much I have spent in sending workmen out +of the country against my own view of the country’s interest,” continued +Trefusis, addressing Erskine. “When I make a convert among the working +classes, the first thing he does is to make a speech somewhere declaring +his new convictions. His employer immediately discharges him--‘gives +him the sack’ is the technical phrase. The sack is the sword of the +capitalist, and hunger keeps it sharp for him. His shield is the law, +made for the purpose by his own class. Thus equipped, he gives the worst +of it to my poor convert, who comes ruined to me for assistance. As I +cannot afford to pension him for life, I get rid of him by assisting him +to emigrate. Sometimes he prospers and repays me; sometimes I hear no +more of him; sometimes he comes back with his habits unsettled. One +man whom I sent to America made his fortune, but he was not a social +democrat; he was a clerk who had embezzled, and who applied to me for +assistance under the impression that I considered it rather meritorious +to rob the till of a capitalist.” + +“He was a practical Socialist, in fact,” said Erskine. + +“On the contrary, he was a somewhat too grasping Individualist. Howbeit, +I enabled him to make good his defalcation--in the city they consider a +defalcation made good when the money is replaced--and to go to New York. +I recommended him not to go there; but he knew better than I, for +he made a fortune by speculating with money that existed only in the +imagination of those with whom he dealt. He never repaid me; he is +probably far too good a man of business to pay money that cannot be +extracted from him by an appeal to the law or to his commercial credit. +Mr. Erskine,” added Trefusis, lowering his voice, and turning to the +poet, “you are wrong to take part with hucksters and money-hunters +against your own nature, even though the attack upon them is led by a +man who prefers photography to etching.” + +“But I assure you--You quite mistake me,” said Erskine, taken aback. +“I--” + +He stopped, looked to Sir Charles for support, and then said airily: +“I don’t doubt that you are quite right. I hate business and men of +business; and as to social questions, I have only one article of belief, +which is, that the sole refiner of human nature is fine art.” + +“Whereas I believe that the sole refiner of art is human nature. Art +rises when men rise, and grovels when men grovel. What is your opinion?” + +“I agree with you in many ways,” replied Sir Charles nervously; for a +lack of interest in his fellow-creatures, and an excess of interest in +himself, had prevented him from obtaining that power of dealing with +social questions which, he felt, a baronet ought to possess, and he +was consequently afraid to differ from anyone who alluded to them with +confidence. “If you take an interest in art, I believe I can show you a +few things worth seeing.” + +“Thank you. In return I will some day show you a remarkable collection +of photographs I possess; many of them taken by me. I venture to think +they will teach you something.” + +“No doubt,” said Sir Charles. “Shall we return to the gallery? I have a +few treasures there that photography is not likely to surpass for some +time yet.” + +“Let’s go through the conservatory,” said Jane. “Don’t you like flowers, +Mr. Smi--I never can remember your proper name.” + +“Extremely,” said Trefusis. + +They rose and went out into a long hothouse. Here Lady Brandon, finding +Erskine at her side, and Sir Charles before her with Gertrude, +looked round for Trefusis, with whom she intended to enjoy a trifling +flirtation under cover of showing him the flowers. He was out of sight; +but she heard his footsteps in the passage on the opposite side of the +greenhouse. Agatha was also invisible. Jane, not daring to rearrange +their procession lest her design should become obvious, had to walk on +with Erskine. + +Agatha had turned unintentionally into the opposite alley to that which +the others had chosen. When she saw what she had done, and found herself +virtually alone with Trefusis, who had followed her, she blamed him for +it, and was about to retrace her steps when he said coolly: + +“Were you shocked when you heard of Henrietta’s sudden death?” + +Agatha struggled with herself for a moment, and then said in a +suppressed voice: “How dare you speak to me?” + +“Why not?” said he, astonished. + +“I am not going to enter into a discussion with you. You know what I +mean very well.” + +“You mean that you are offended with me; that is plain enough. But when +I part with a young lady on good terms, and after a lapse of years, +during which we neither meet nor correspond, she asks me how I dare +speak to her, I am naturally startled.” + +“We did not part on good terms.” + +Trefusis stretched his eyebrows, as if to stretch his memory. “If not,” + he said, “I have forgotten it, on my honor. When did we part, and +what happened? It cannot have been anything very serious, or I should +remember it.” + +His forgetfulness wounded Agatha. “No doubt you are well accustomed +to--” She checked herself, and made a successful snatch at her normal +manner with gentlemen. “I scarcely remember what it was, now that I +begin to think. Some trifle, I suppose. Do you like orchids?” + +“They have nothing to do with our affairs at present. You are not in +earnest about the orchids, and you are trying to run away from a mistake +instead of clearing it up. That is a short-sighted policy, always.” + +Agatha grew alarmed, for she felt his old influence over her returning. +“I do not wish to speak of it,” she said firmly. + +Her firmness was lost on him. “I do not even know what it means yet,” he +said, “and I want to know, for I believe there is some misunderstanding +between us, and it is the trick of your sex to perpetuate +misunderstandings by forbidding all allusions to them. Perhaps, leaving +Lyvern so hastily, I forgot to fulfil some promise, or to say farewell, +or something of that sort. But do you know how suddenly I was called +away? I got a telegram to say that Henrietta was dying, and I had only +time to change my clothes--you remember my disguise--and catch the +express. And, after all, she was dead when I arrived.” + +“I know that,” said Agatha uneasily. “Please say no more about it.” + +“Not if it distresses you. Just let me hope that you did not suppose I +blamed you for your share in the matter or that I told the Janseniuses +of it. I did not. Yes, I like orchids. A plant that can subsist on a +scrap of board is an instance of natural econ--” + +“YOU blame ME!” cried Agatha. “_I_ never told the Janseniuses. What +would they have thought of you if I had?” + +“Far worse of you than of me, however unjustly. You were the immediate +cause of the tragedy; I only the remote one. Jansenius is not far-seeing +when his feelings are touched. Few men are.” + +“I don’t understand you in the least. What tragedy do you mean?” + +“Henrietta’s death. I call it a tragedy conventionally. Seriously, of +course, it was commonplace enough.” + +Agatha stopped and faced him. “What do you mean by what you said just +now? You said that I was the immediate cause of the tragedy, and you say +that you were talking of Henrietta’s--of Henrietta. I had nothing to do +with her illness.” + +Trefusis looked at her as if considering whether he would go any +further. Then, watching her with the curiosity of a vivisector, he said: +“Strange to say, Agatha,” (she shrank proudly at the word), “Henrietta +might have been alive now but for you. I am very glad she is not; so you +need not reproach yourself on my account. She died of a journey she +made to Lyvern in great excitement and distress, and in intensely cold +weather. You caused her to make that journey by writing her a letter +which made her jealous.” + +“Do you mean to accuse me--” + +“No; stop!” he said hastily, the vivisecting spirit in him exorcised +by her shaking voice; “I accuse you of nothing. Why do you not speak +honestly to me when you are at your ease? If you confess your real +thoughts only under torture, who can resist the temptation to torture +you? One must charge you with homicide to make you speak of anything but +orchids.” + +But Agatha had drawn the new inference from the old facts, and would not +be talked out of repudiating it. “It was not my fault,” she said. “It +was yours--altogether yours.” + +“Altogether,” he assented, relieved to find her indignant instead of +remorseful. + +She was not to be soothed by a verbal acquiescence. “Your behavior +was most unmanly, and I told you so, and you could not deny it. You +pretended that you--You pretended to have feelings--You tried to make +me believe that Oh, I am a fool to talk to you; you know perfectly well +what I mean.” + +“Perfectly. I tried to make you believe that I was in love with you. How +do you know I was not?” + +She disdained to answer; but as he waited calmly she said, “You had no +right to be.” + +“That does not prove that I was not. Come, Agatha, you pretended to like +me when you did not care two straws about me. You confessed as much in +that fatal letter, which I have somewhere at home. It has a great rent +right across it, and the mark of her heel; she must have stamped on it +in her rage, poor girl! So that I can show your own hand for the very +deception you accused me--without proof--of having practiced on you.” + +“You are clever, and can twist things. What pleasure does it give you to +make me miserable?” + +“Ha!” he exclaimed, in an abrupt, sardonic laugh. “I don’t know; you +bewitch me, I think.” + +Agatha made no reply, but walked on quickly to the end of the +conservatory, where the others were waiting for them. + +“Where have you been, and what have you been doing all this time?” said +Jane, as Trefusis came up, hurrying after Agatha. “I don’t know what you +call it, but I call it perfectly disgraceful!” + +Sir Charles reddened at his wife’s bad taste, and Trefusis replied +gravely: “We have been admiring the orchids, and talking about them. +Miss Wylie takes an interest in them.” + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +One morning Gertrude got a letter from her father: + +“My Dear Gerty: I have just received a bill for L110 from Madame Smith +for your dresses. May I ask you how long this sort of thing is to go +on? I need not tell you that I have not the means to support you in such +extravagance. I am, as you know, always anxious that you should go about +in a style worthy of your position, but unless you can manage without +calling on me to pay away hundreds of pounds every season to Madame +Smith, you had better give up society and stay at home. I positively +cannot afford it. As far as I can see, going into society has not done +you much good. I had to raise L500 last month on Franklands; and it is +too bad if I must raise more to pay your dressmaker. You might at least +employ some civil person, or one whose charges are moderate. Madame +Smith tells me that she will not wait any longer, and charges L50 for a +single dress. I hope you fully understand that there must be an end to +this. + +“I hear from your mother that young Erskine is with you at Brandon’s. I +do not think much of him. He is not well off, nor likely to get on, as +he has taken to poetry and so forth. I am told also that a man named +Trefusis visits at the Beeches a good deal now. He must be a fool, for +he contested the last Birmingham election, and came out at the foot of +the poll with thirty-two votes through calling himself a Social Democrat +or some such foreign rubbish, instead of saying out like a man that he +was a Radical. I suppose the name stuck in his throat, for his mother +was one of the Howards of Breconcastle; so he has good blood in him, +though his father was nobody. I wish he had your bills to pay; he could +buy and sell me ten times over, after all my twenty-five years’ service. + +“As I am thinking of getting something done to the house, I had rather +you did not come back this month, if you can possibly hold on at +Brandon’s. Remember me to him, and give our kind regards to his wife. I +should be obliged if you would gather some hemlock leaves and send them +to me. I want them for my ointment; the stuff the chemists sell is no +good. Your mother’s eyes are bad again; and your brother Berkeley has +been gambling, and seems to think I ought to pay his debts for him. I +am greatly worried over it all, and I hope that, until you have settled +yourself, you will be more reasonable, and not run these everlasting +bills upon me. You are enjoying yourself out of reach of all the +unpleasantness; but it bears hardly upon + +“Your affectionate father, + +“C.B. LINDSAY.” + + +A faint sketch of the lines Time intended to engrave on Gertrude’s brow +appeared there as she read the letter; but she hastened to give the +admiral’s kind regards to her host and hostess, and discussed her +mother’s health feelingly with them. After breakfast she went to the +library, and wrote her reply: + + +“BRANDON BEECHES, + +“Tuesday. + +“Dear Papa: Considering that it is more than three years since you +paid Madame Smith last, and that then her bill, which included my court +dress, was only L150, I cannot see how I could possibly have been more +economical, unless you expect me to go in rags. I am sorry that Madame +Smith has asked for the money at such an inconvenient time, but when I +begged you to pay her something in March last year you told me to keep +her quiet by giving her a good order. I am not surprised at her not +being very civil, as she has plenty of tradesmen’s daughters among her +customers who pay her more than L300 a year for their dresses. I am +wearing a skirt at present which I got two years ago. + +“Sir Charles is going to town on Thursday; he will bring you the +hemlock. Tell mamma that there is an old woman here who knows some +wonderful cure for sore eyes. She will not tell what the ingredients +are, but it cures everyone, and there is no use in giving an oculist two +guineas for telling us that reading in bed is bad for the eyes, when +we know perfectly well that mamma will not give up doing it. If you pay +Berkeley’s debts, do not forget that he owes me L3. + +“Another schoolfellow of mine is staying here now, and I think that Mr. +Trefusis will have the pleasure of paying her bills some day. He is a +great pet of Lady Brandon’s. Sir Charles was angry at first because she +invited him here, and we were all surprised at it. The man has a bad +reputation, and headed a mob that threw down the walls of the park; and +we hardly thought he would be cool enough to come after that. But he +does not seem to care whether we want him or not; and he comes when he +likes. As he talks cleverly, we find him a godsend in this dull place. +It is really not such a paradise as you seem to think, but you need not +be afraid of my returning any sooner than I can help. + +“Your affectionate daughter, + +“Gertrude Lindsay.” + + +When Gertrude had closed this letter, and torn up her father’s, she +thought little more about either. They might have made her unhappy had +they found her happy, but as hopeless discontent was her normal state, +and enjoyment but a rare accident, recriminatory passages with +her father only put her into a bad humor, and did not in the least +disappoint or humiliate her. + +For the sake of exercise, she resolved to carry her letter to the +village post office and return along the Riverside Road, whereby she had +seen hemlock growing. She took care to go out unobserved, lest Agatha +should volunteer to walk with her, or Jane declare her intention of +driving to the post office in the afternoon, and sulk for the rest of +the day unless the trip to the village were postponed until then. She +took with her, as a protection against tramps, a big St. Bernard dog +named Max. This animal, which was young and enthusiastic, had taken a +strong fancy to her, and had expressed it frankly and boisterously; and +she, whose affections had been starved in her home and in society, had +encouraged him with more kindness than she had ever shown to any human +being. + +In the village, having posted her letter, she turned towards a lane that +led to the Riverside Road. Max, unaware of her reason for choosing the +longest way home, remonstrated by halting in the middle of the lane, +wagging his tail rapidly, and uttering gruff barks. + +“Don’t be stupid, sir,” said Gertrude impatiently. “I am going this +way.” + +Max, apparently understanding, rushed after her, passed her, and +disappeared in a cloud of dust raised by his effort to check himself +when he had left her far enough behind. When he came back she kissed +his nose, and ran a race with him until she too was panting, and had +to stand still to recover her breath, whilst he bounded about, barking +ferociously. She had not for many years enjoyed such a frolic, and the +thought of this presently brought tears to her eyes. Rather peevishly +she bade Max be quiet, walked slowly to cool herself, and put up her +sunshade to avert freckles. + +The sun was now at the meridian. On a slope to Gertrude’s right hand, +Sallust’s House, with its cinnamon-colored walls and yellow frieze, gave +a foreign air to the otherwise very English landscape. She passed by +without remembering who lived there. Further down, on some waste land +separated from the road by a dry ditch and a low mud wall, a cluster of +hemlocks, nearly six feet high, poisoned the air with their odor. She +crossed the ditch, took a pair of gardening gloves from her plaited +straw hand-basket, and busied herself with the hemlock leaves, pulling +the tender ones, separating them from the stalk, and filling the basket +with the web. She forgot Max until an impression of dead silence, as +if the earth had stopped, caused her to look round in vague dread. +Trefusis, with his hand abandoned to the dog, who was trying how much of +it he could cram into his mouth, was standing within a few yards of her, +watching her intently. Gertrude turned pale, and came out hastily from +among the bushes. Then she had a strange sensation as if something +had happened high above her head. There was a threatening growl, a +commanding exclamation, and an unaccountable pause, at the expiration +of which she found herself supine on the sward, with her parasol between +her eyes and the sun. A sudden scoop of Max’s wet warm tongue in her +right ear startled her into activity. She sat up, and saw Trefusis +on his knees at her side holding the parasol with an unconcerned +expression, whilst Max was snuffing at her in restless anxiety opposite. + +“I must go home,” she said. “I must go home instantly.” + +“Not at all,” said Trefusis, soothingly. “They have just sent word to +say that everything is settled satisfactorily and that you need not +come.” + +“Have they?” she said faintly. Then she lay down again, and it seemed to +her that a very long time elapsed. Suddenly recollecting that Trefusis +had supported her gently with his hand to prevent her falling back too +rudely, she rose again, and this time got upon her feet with his help. + +“I must go home,” she said again. “It is a matter of life or death.” + +“No, no,” he said softly. “It is all right. You may depend on me.” + +She looked at him earnestly. He had taken her hand to steady her, for +she was swaying a little. “Are you sure,” she said, grasping his arm. +“Are you quite sure?” + +“Absolutely certain. You know I am always right, do you not?” + +“Yes, oh, yes; you have always been true to me. You--” Here her senses +came back with a rush. Dropping his hand as if it had become red hot, +she said sharply, “What are you talking about?” + +“I don’t know,” he said, resuming his indifferent manner with a laugh. +“Are you better? Let me drive you to the Beeches. My stable is within a +stone’s throw; I can get a trap out in ten minutes.” + +“No, thank you,” said Gertrude haughtily. “I do not wish to drive.” She +paused, and added in some bewilderment, “What has happened?” + +“You fainted, and--” + +“I did not faint,” said Gertrude indignantly. “I never fainted in my +life.” + +“Yes, you did.” + +“Pardon me, Mr. Trefusis. I did not.” + +“You shall judge for yourself. I was coming through this field when +I saw you gathering hemlock. Hemlock is interesting on account of +Socrates, and you were interesting as a young lady gathering poison. So +I stopped to look on. Presently you came out from among the bushes as if +you had seen a snake there. Then you fell into my arms--which led me +to suppose that you had fainted--and Max, concluding that it was all my +fault, nearly sprang at my throat. You were overpowered by the scent of +the water-hemlock, which you must have been inhaling for ten minutes or +more.” + +“I did not know that there was any danger,” said Gertrude, crestfallen. +“I felt very tired when I came to. That was why I lay so long the second +time. I really could not help it.” + +“You did not lie very long.” + +“Not when I first fell; that was only a few seconds, I know. But I must +have lain there nearly ten minutes after I recovered.” + +“You were nearly a minute insensible when you first fell, and when you +recovered you only rested for about one second. After that you raved, +and I invented suitable answers until you suddenly asked me what I was +talking about.” + +Gertrude reddened a little as the possibility of her having raved +indiscreetly occurred to her. “It was very silly of me to faint,” she +said. + +“You could not help it; you are only human. I shall walk with you to the +Beeches.” + +“Thank you; I will not trouble you,” she said quickly. + +He shook his head. “I do not know how long the effect of that abominable +water-weed may last,” he said, “and I dare not leave you to walk alone. +If you prefer it I can send you in a trap with my gardener, but I had +rather accompany you myself.” + +“You are giving yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble. I will +walk. I am quite well again and need no assistance.” + +They started without another word. Gertrude had to concentrate all her +energy to conceal from him that she was giddy. Numbness and lassitude +crept upon her, and she was beginning to hope that she was only dreaming +it all when he roused her by saying, + +“Take my arm.” + +“No, thank you.” + +“Do not be so senselessly obstinate. You will have to lean on the +hedge for support if you refuse my help. I am sorry I did not insist on +getting the trap.” + +Gertrude had not been spoken to in this tone since her childhood. “I am +perfectly well,” she said sharply. “You are really very officious.” + +“You are not perfectly well, and you know it. However, if you make +a brave struggle, you will probably be able to walk home without my +assistance, and the effort may do you good.” + +“You are very rude,” she said peremptorily. + +“I know it,” he replied calmly. “You will find three classes of men +polite to you--slaves, men who think much of their manners and nothing +of you, and your lovers. I am none of these, and therefore give you back +your ill manners with interest. Why do you resist your good angel by +suppressing those natural and sincere impulses which come to you often +enough, and sometimes bring a look into your face that might tame a +bear--a look which you hasten to extinguish as a thief darkens his +lantern at the sound of a footstep.” + +“Mr. Trefusis, I am not accustomed to be lectured.” + +“That is why I lecture you. I felt curious to see how your good +breeding, by which I think you set some store, would serve you in +entirely novel circumstances--those of a man speaking his mind to you, +for instance. What is the result of my experiment? Instead of rebuking +me with the sweetness and dignity which I could not, in spite of my past +observation, help expecting from you, you churlishly repel my offer of +the assistance you need, tell me that I am very rude, very officious, +and, in short, do what you can to make my position disagreeable and +humiliating.” + +She looked at him haughtily, but his expression was void of offence or +fear, and he continued, unanswered. + +“I would bear all this from a working woman without remonstrance, for +she would owe me no graces of manner or morals. But you are a lady. +That means that many have starved and drudged in uncleanly discomfort +in order that you may have white and unbroken hands, fine garments, and +exquisite manners--that you may be a living fountain of those influences +that soften our natures and lives. When such a costly thing as a lady +breaks down at the first touch of a firm hand, I feel justified in +complaining.” + +Gertrude walked on quickly, and said between her teeth, “I don’t want to +hear any of your absurd views, Mr. Trefusis.” + +He laughed. “My unfortunate views!” he said. “Whenever I make an +inconvenient remark it is always set aside as an expression of certain +dangerous crazes with which I am supposed to be afflicted. When I point +out to Sir Charles that one of his favorite artists has not accurately +observed something before attempting to draw it, he replies, ‘You know +our views differ on these things, Trefusis.’ When I told Miss Wylie’s +guardian that his emigration scheme was little better than a fraud, he +said, ‘You must excuse me, but I cannot enter into your peculiar views.’ +One of my views at present is that Miss Lindsay is more amiable under +the influence of hemlock than under that of the social system which has +made her so unhappy.” + +“Well!” exclaimed Gertrude, outraged. Then, after a pause, “I was under +the impression that I had accepted the escort of a gentleman.” Then, +after another pause, Trefusis being quite undisturbed, “How do you know +that I am unhappy?” + +“By a certain defect in your countenance, which lacks the crowning +beauty of happiness; and a certain defect in your voice which will never +disappear until you learn to love or pity those to whom you speak.” + +“You are wrong,” said Gertrude, with calm disdain. “You do not +understand me in the least. I am particularly attached to my friends.” + +“Then I have never seen you in their company.” + +“You are still wrong.” + +“Then how can you speak as you do, look as you do, act as you do?” + +“What do you mean? HOW do I look and act?” + +“Like one of the railings of Belgrave Square, cursed with consciousness +of itself, fears of the judgment of the other railings, and doubts +of their fitness to stand in the same row with it. You are cold, +mistrustful, cruel to nervous or clumsy people, and more afraid of +the criticisms of those with whom you dance and dine than of your +conscience. All of which prevents you from looking like an angel.” + +“Thank you. Do you consider paying compliments the perfection of +gentlemanly behavior?” + +“Have I been paying you many? That last remark of mine was not meant +as one. On my honor, the angels will not disappoint me if they are no +lovelier than you should be if you had that look in your face and that +tone in your voice I spoke of just now. It can hardly displease you to +hear that. If I were particularly handsome myself, I should like to be +told so.” + +“I am sorry I cannot tell you so.” + +“Oh! Ha! ha! What a retort, Miss Lindsay! You are not sorry either; you +are rather glad.” + +Gertrude knew it, and was angry with herself, not because her retort +was false, but because she thought it unladylike. “You have no right to +annoy me,” she exclaimed, in spite of herself. + +“None whatever,” he said, humbly. “If I have done so, forgive me before +we part. I will go no further with you; Max will give the alarm if you +faint in the avenue, which I don’t think you are likely to do, as you +have forgotten all about the hemlock.” + +“Oh, how maddening!” she cried. “I have left my basket behind.” + +“Never mind; I will find it and have it filled and sent to you.” + +“Thank you. I am sorry to trouble you.” + +“Not at all. I hope you do not want the hemlock to help you to get rid +of the burden of life.” + +“Nonsense. I want it for my father, who uses it for medicine.” + +“I will bring it myself to-morrow. Is that soon enough?” + +“Quite. I am in no hurry. Thank you, Mr. Trefusis. Good-bye.” + +She gave him her hand, and even smiled a little, and then hurried away. +He stood watching her as she passed along the avenue under the beeches. +Once, when she came into a band of sunlight at a gap in the trees, she +made so pretty a figure in her spring dress of violet and white that +his eyes kindled as he gazed. He took out his note-book, and entered her +name and the date, with a brief memorandum. + +“I have thawed her,” he said to himself as he put up his book. “She +shall learn a lesson or two to hand on to her children before I have +done with her. A trifle underbred, too, or she would not insist so much +on her breeding. Henrietta used to wear a dress like that. I am glad to +see that there is no danger of her taking to me personally.” + +He turned away, and saw a crone passing, bending beneath a bundle of +sticks. He eyed it curiously; and she scowled at him and hurried on. + +“Hallo,” he said. + +She continued for a few steps, but her courage failed her and she +stopped. + +“You are Mrs. Hickling, I think?” + +“Yes, please your worship.” + +“You are the woman who carried away an old wooden gate that lay on Sir +Charles Brandon’s land last winter and used it for firewood. You were +imprisoned for seven days for it.” + +“You may send me there again if you like,” she retorted, in a cracked +voice, as she turned at bay. “But the Lord will make me even with you +some day. Cursed be them that oppress the poor and needy; it is one of +the seven deadly sins.” + +“Those green laths on your back are the remainder of my garden gate,” + he said. “You took the first half last Saturday. Next time you want fuel +come to the house and ask for coals, and let my gates alone. I suppose +you can enjoy a fire without stealing the combustibles. Stow pay me for +my gate by telling me something I want to know.” + +“And a kind gentleman too, sir; blessings.” + +“What is the hemlock good for?” + +“The hemlock, kind gentleman? For the evil, sir, to be sure.” + +“Scrofulous ulcers!” he exclaimed, recoiling. “The father of that +beautiful girl!” He turned homeward, and trudged along with his +head bent, muttering, “All rotten to the bone. Oh, civilization! +civilization! civilization!” + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +“What has come over Gertrude?” said Agatha one day to Lady Brandon. + +“Why? Is anything the matter with her?” + +“I don’t know; she has not been the same since she poisoned herself. +And why did she not tell about it? But for Trefusis we should never have +known.” + +“Gertrude always made secrets of things.” + +“She was in a vile temper for two days after; and now she is quite +changed. She falls into long reveries, and does not hear a word of +what is going on around. Then she starts into life again, and begs your +pardon with the greatest sweetness for not catching what you have said.” + +“I hate her when she is polite; it is not natural to her. As to her +going to sleep, that is the effect of the hemlock. We know a man who +took a spoonful of strychnine in a bath, and he never was the same +afterwards.” + +“I think she is making up her mind to encourage Erskine,” said Agatha. +“When I came here he hardly dared speak to her--at least, she always +snubbed him. Now she lets him talk as much as he likes, and actually +sends him on messages and allows him to carry things for her.” + +“Yes. I never saw anybody like Gertrude in my life. In London, if men +were attentive to her, she sat on them for being officious; and if they +let her alone she was angry at being neglected. Erskine is quite good +enough for her, I think.” + +Here Erskine appeared at the door and looked round the room. + +“She’s not here,” said Jane. + +“I am seeking Sir Charles,” he said, withdrawing somewhat stiffly. + +“What a lie!” said Jane, discomfited by his reception of her jest. “He +was talking to Sir Charles ten minutes ago in the billiard room. Men are +such conceited fools!” + +Agatha had strolled to the window, and was looking discontentedly at the +prospect, as she had often done at school when alone, and sometimes did +now in society. The door opened again, and Sir Charles appeared. He, +too, looked round, but when his roving glance reached Agatha, it cast +anchor; and he came in. + +“Are you busy just now, Miss Wylie?” he asked. + +“Yes,” said Jane hastily. “She is going to write a letter for me.” + +“Really, Jane,” he said, “I think you are old enough to write your +letters without troubling Miss Wylie.” + +“When I do write my own letters you always find fault with them,” she +retorted. + +“I thought perhaps you might have leisure to try over a duet with me,” + he said, turning to Agatha. + +“Certainly,” she replied, hoping to smooth matters by humoring him. “The +letter will do any time before post hour.” + +Jane reddened, and said shortly, “I will write it myself, if you will +not.” + +Sir Charles quite lost his temper. “How can you be so damnably rude?” + he said, turning upon his wife. “What objection have you to my singing +duets with Miss Wylie?” + +“Nice language that!” said Jane. “I never said I objected; and you have +no right to drag her away to the piano just when she is going to write a +letter for me.” + +“I do not wish Miss Wylie to do anything except what pleases her best. +It seems to me that writing letters to your tradespeople cannot be a +very pleasant occupation.” + +“Pray don’t mind me,” said Agatha. “It is not the least trouble to me. I +used to write all Jane’s letters for her at school. Suppose I write the +letter first, and then we can have the duet. You will not mind waiting +five minutes?” + +“I can wait as long as you please, of course. But it seems such an +absurd abuse of your good nature that I cannot help protest!” + +“Oh, let it wait!” exclaimed Jane. “Such a ridiculous fuss to make about +asking Agatha to write a letter, just because you happen to want her +to play you your duets! I am certain she is heartily sick and tired of +them.” + +Agatha, to escape the altercation, went to the library and wrote the +letter. When she returned to the drawing-room, she found no one there; +but Sir Charles came in presently. + +“I am so sorry, Miss Wylie,” he said, as he opened the piano for her, +“that you should be incommoded because my wife is silly enough to be +jealous.” + +“Jealous!” + +“Of course. Idiocy!” + +“Oh, you are mistaken,” said Agatha, incredulously. “How could she +possibly be jealous of me?” + +“She is jealous of everybody and everything,” he replied bitterly, “and +she cares for nobody and for nothing. You do not know what I have to +endure sometimes from her.” + +Agatha thought her most discreet course was to sit down immediately and +begin “I would that my love.” Whilst she played and sang, she thought +over what Sir Charles had just let slip. She had found him a pleasant +companion, light-hearted, fond of music and fun, polite and considerate, +appreciative of her talents, quick-witted without being oppressively +clever, and, as a married man, disinterested in his attentions. But it +now occurred to her that perhaps they had been a good deal together of +late. + +Sir Charles had by this time wandered from his part into hers; and he +now recalled her to the music by stopping to ask whether he was right. +Knowing by experience what his difficulty was likely to be, she gave him +his note and went on. They had not been singing long when Jane came +back and sat down, expressing a hope that her presence would not disturb +them. It did disturb them. Agatha suspected that she had come there to +watch them, and Sir Charles knew it. Besides, Lady Brandon, even when +her mind was tranquil, was habitually restless. She could not speak +because of the music, and, though she held an open book in her hand, she +could not read and watch simultaneously. She gaped, and leaned to one +end of the sofa until, on the point of overbalancing’ she recovered +herself with a prodigious bounce. The floor vibrated at her every +movement. At last she could keep silence no longer. + +“Oh, dear!” she said, yawning audibly. “It must be five o’clock at the +very earliest.” + +Agatha turned round upon the piano-stool, feeling that music and Lady +Brandon were incompatible. Sir Charles, for his guest’s sake, tried hard +to restrain his exasperation. + +“Probably your watch will tell you,” he said. + +“Thank you for nothing,” said Jane. “Agatha, where is Gertrude?” + +“How can Miss Wylie possibly tell you where she is, Jane? I think you +have gone mad to-day.” + +“She is most likely playing billiards with Mr. Erskine,” said Agatha, +interposing quickly to forestall a retort from Jane, with its usual +sequel of a domestic squabble. + +“I think it is very strange of Gertrude to pass the whole day with +Chester in the billiard room,” said Jane discontentedly. + +“There is not the slightest impropriety in her doing so,” said +Sir Charles. “If our hospitality does not place Miss Lindsay above +suspicion, the more shame for us. How would you feel if anyone else made +such a remark?” + +“Oh, stuff!” said Jane peevishly. “You are always preaching long +rigmaroles about nothing at all. I did not say there was any impropriety +about Gertrude. She is too proper to be pleasant, in my opinion.” + +Sir Charles, unable to trust himself further, frowned and left the room, +Jane speeding him with a contemptuous laugh. + +“Don’t ever be such a fool as to get married,” she said, when he was +gone. She looked up as she spoke, and was alarmed to see Agatha seated +on the pianoforte, with her ankles swinging in the old school fashion. + +“Jane,” she said, surveying her hostess coolly, “do you know what I +would do if I were Sir Charles?” + +Jane did not know. + +“I would get a big stick, beat you black and blue, and then lock you up +on bread and water for a week.” + +Jane half rose, red and angry. “Wh--why?” she said, relapsing upon the +sofa. + +“If I were a man, I would not, for mere chivalry’s sake, let a woman +treat me like a troublesome dog. You want a sound thrashing.” + +“I’d like to see anybody thrash me,” said Jane, rising again and +displaying her formidable person erect. Then she burst into tears, and +said, “I won’t have such things said to me in my own house. How dare +you?” + +“You deserve it for being jealous of me,” said Agatha. + +Jane’s eyes dilated angrily. “I!--I!--jealous of you!” She looked round, +as if for a missile. Not finding one, she sat down again, and said in a +voice stifled with tears, “J--Jealous of YOU, indeed!” + +“You have good reason to be, for he is fonder of me than of you.” + +Jane opened her mouth and eyes convulsively, but only uttered a gasp, +and Agatha proceeded calmly, “I am polite to him, which you never +are. When he speaks to me I allow him to finish his sentence without +expressing, as you do, a foregone conclusion that it is not worth +attending to. I do not yawn and talk whilst he is singing. When he +converses with me on art or literature, about which he knows twice as +much as I do, and at least ten times as much as you.” (Jane gasped again) +“I do not make a silly answer and turn to my neighbor at the other side +with a remark about the tables or the weather. When he is willing to be +pleased, as he always is, I am willing to be pleasant. And that is why +he likes me.” + +“He does NOT like you. He is the same to everyone.” + +“Except his wife. He likes me so much that you, like a great goose as +you are, came up here to watch us at our duets, and made yourself as +disagreeable as you possibly could whilst I was making myself charming. +The poor man was ashamed of you.” + +“He wasn’t,” said Jane, sobbing. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t say +anything. I won’t bear it. I will get a divorce. I will--” + +“You will mend your ways if you have any sense left,” said Agatha +remorselessly. “Do not make such a noise, or someone will come to see +what is the matter, and I shall have to get down from the piano, where I +am very comfortable.” + +“It is you who are jealous.” + +“Oh, is it, Jane? I have not allowed Sir Charles to fall in love with me +yet, but I can do so very easily. What will you wager that he will not +kiss me before to-morrow evening?” + +“It will be very mean and nasty of you if he does. You seem to think +that I can be treated like a child.” + +“So you are a child,” said Agatha, descending from her perch and +preparing to go. “An occasional slapping does you good.” + +“It is nothing to you whether I agree with my husband or not,” said Jane +with sudden fierceness. + +“Not if you quarrel with him in private, as wellbred couples do. But +when it occurs in my presence it makes me uncomfortable, and I object to +being made uncomfortable.” + +“You would not be here at all if I had not asked you.” + +“Just think how dull the house would be without me, Jane!” + +“Indeed! It was not dull before you came. Gertrude always behaved like a +lady, at least.” + +“I am sorry that her example was so utterly lost on you.” + +“I won’t bear it,” said Jane with a sob and a plunge upon the sofa that +made the lustres of the chandeliers rattle. “I wouldn’t have asked you +if I had thought you could be so hateful. I will never ask you again.” + +“I will make Sir Charles divorce you for incompatibility of temper and +marry me. Then I shall have the place to myself.” + +“He can’t divorce me for that, thank goodness. You don’t know what +you’re talking about.” + +Agatha laughed. “Come,” she said good-humoredly, “don’t be an old ass, +Jane. Wash your face before anyone sees it, and remember what I have +told you about Sir Charles.” + +“It is very hard to be called an ass in one’s own house.” + +“It is harder to be treated as one, like your husband. I am going to +look for him in the billiard room.” + +Jane ran after her, and caught her by the sleeve. + +“Agatha,” she pleaded, “promise me that you won’t be mean. Say that you +won’t make love to him.” + +“I will consider about it,” replied Agatha gravely. + +Jane uttered a groan and sank into a chair, which creaked at the +shock. Agatha turned on the threshold, and seeing her shaking her head, +pressing her eyes, and tapping with her heel in a restrained frenzy, +said quickly, + +“Here are the Waltons, and the Fitzgeorges, and Mr. Trefusis coming +upstairs. How do you do, Mrs. Walton? Lady Brandon will be SO glad to +see you. Good-evening, Mr. Fitzgeorge.” + +Jane sprang up, wiped her eyes, and, with her hands on her hair, +smoothing it, rushed to a mirror. No visitors appearing, she perceived +that she was, for perhaps the hundredth time in her life, the victim +of an imposture devised by Agatha. She, gratified by the success of her +attempt to regain her old ascendancy over Jane--she had made it with +misgiving, notwithstanding her apparent confidence--went downstairs to +the library, where she found Sir Charles gloomily trying to drown his +domestic troubles in art criticism. + +“I thought you were in the billiard room,” said Agatha. + +“I only peeped in,” he replied; “but as I saw something particular going +on, I thought it best to slip away, and I have been alone ever since.” + +The something particular which Sir Charles had not wished to interrupt +was only a game of billiards. + +It was the first opportunity Erskine had ever enjoyed of speaking to +Gertrude at leisure and alone. Yet their conversation had never been +so commonplace. She, liking the game, played very well and chatted +indifferently; he played badly, and broached trivial topics in spite of +himself. After an hour-and-a-half’s play, Gertrude had announced that +this game must be their last. He thought desperately that if he were to +miss many more strokes the game must presently end, and an opportunity +which might never recur pass beyond recall. He determined to tell +her without preface that he adored her, but when he opened his lips a +question came forth of its own accord relating to the Persian way of +playing billiards. Gertrude had never been in Persia, but had seen +some Eastern billiard cues in the India museum. Were not the Hindoos +wonderful people for filigree work, and carpets, and such things? Did +he not think the crookedness of their carpet patterns a blemish? Some +people pretended to admire them, but was not that all nonsense? Was not +the modern polished floor, with a rug in the middle, much superior to +the old carpet fitted into the corners of the room? Yes. Enormously +superior. Immensely-- + +“Why, what are you thinking of to-day, Mr. Erskine? You have played with +my ball.” + +“I am thinking of you.” + +“What did you say?” said Gertrude, not catching the serious turn he had +given to the conversation, and poising her cue for a stroke. “Oh! I am +as bad as you; that was the worst stroke I ever made, I think. I beg +your pardon; you said something just now.” + +“I forget. Nothing of any consequence.” And he groaned at his own +cowardice. + +“Suppose we stop,” she said. “There is no use in finishing the game if +our hands are out. I am rather tired of it.” + +“Certainly--if you wish it.” + +“I will finish if you like.” + +“Not at all. What pleases you, pleases me.” + +Gertrude made him a little bow, and idly knocked the balls about with +her cue. Erskine’s eyes wandered, and his lip moved irresolutely. He had +settled with himself that his declaration should be a frank one--heart +to heart. He had pictured himself in the act of taking her hand +delicately, and saying, “Gertrude, I love you. May I tell you so again?” + But this scheme did not now seem practicable. + +“Miss Lindsay.” + +Gertrude, bending over the table, looked up in alarm. + +“The present is as good an opportunity as I will--as I shall--as I +will.” + +“Shall,” said Gertrude. + +“I beg your pardon?” + +“SHALL,” repeated Gertrude. “Did you ever study the doctrine of +necessity?” + +“The doctrine of necessity?” he said, bewildered. + +Gertrude went to the other side of the table in pursuit of a ball. She +now guessed what was coming, and was willing that it should come; not +because she intended to accept, but because, like other young ladies +experienced in such scenes, she counted the proposals of marriage she +received as a Red Indian counts the scalps he takes. + +“We have had a very pleasant time of it here,” he said, giving up as +inexplicable the relevance of the doctrine of necessity. “At least, I +have.” + +“Well,” said Gertrude, quick to resent a fancied allusion to her private +discontent, “so have I.” + +“I am glad of that--more so than I can convey by words.” + +“Is it any business of yours?” she said, following the disagreeable vein +he had unconsciously struck upon, and suspecting pity in his efforts to +be sympathetic. + +“I wish I dared hope so. The happiness of my visit has been due to you +entirely.” + +“Indeed,” said Gertrude, wincing as all the hard things Trefusis +had told her of herself came into her mind at the heels of Erskine’s +unfortunate allusion to her power of enjoying herself. + +“I hope I am not paining you,” he said earnestly. + +“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said, standing erect with +sudden impatience. “You seem to think that it is very easy to pain me.” + +“No,” he said timidly, puzzled by the effect he had produced. “I fear +you misunderstand me. I am very awkward. Perhaps I had better say no +more.” Gertrude, by turning away to put up her cue, signified that that +was a point for him to consider; she not intending to trouble herself +about it. When she faced him again, he was motionless and dejected, with +a wistful expression like that of a dog that has proffered a caress and +received a kick. Remorse, and a vague sense that there was something +base in her attitude towards him, overcame her. She looked at him for an +instant and left the room. + +The look excited him. He did not understand it, nor attempt to +understand it; but it was a look that he had never before seen in +her face or in that of any other woman. It struck him as a momentary +revelation of what he had written of in “The Patriot Martyrs” as + +“The glorious mystery of a woman’s heart,” + +and it made him feel unfit for ordinary social intercourse. He hastened +from the house, walked swiftly down the avenue to the lodge, where he +kept his bicycle, left word there that he was going for an excursion and +should probably not return in time for dinner, mounted, and sped away +recklessly along the Riverside Road. In less than two minutes he passed +the gate of Sallust’s House, where he nearly ran over an old woman laden +with a basket of coals, who put down her burthen to scream curses after +him. Warned by this that his headlong pace was dangerous, he slackened +it a little, and presently saw Trefusis lying prone on the river bank, +with his cheeks propped on his elbows, reading intently. Erskine, +who had presented him, a few days before, with a copy of “The Patriot +Martyrs and other Poems,” tried to catch a glimpse of the book over +which Trefusis was so serious. It was a Blue Book, full of figures. +Erskine rode on in disgust, consoling himself with the recollection of +Gertrude’s face. + +The highway now swerved inland from the river, and rose to a steep +acclivity, at the brow of which he turned and looked back. The light +was growing ruddy, and the shadows were lengthening. Trefusis was still +prostrate in the meadow, and the old woman was in a field, gathering +hemlock. + +Erskine raced down the hill at full speed, and did not look behind him +again until he found himself at nightfall on the skirts of a town, +where he purchased some beer and a sandwich, which he ate with little +appetite. Gertrude had set up a disturbance within him which made him +impatient of eating. + +It was now dark. He was many miles from Brandon Beeches, and not sure +of the way back. Suddenly he resolved to complete his unfinished +declaration that evening. He now could not ride back fast enough to +satisfy his impatience. He tried a short cut, lost himself, spent nearly +an hour seeking the highroad, and at last came upon a railway station +just in time to catch a train that brought him within a mile of his +destination. + +When he rose from the cushions of the railway carriage he found +himself somewhat fatigued, and he mounted the bicycle stiffly. But his +resolution was as ardent as ever, and his heart beat strongly as, after +leaving his bicycle at the lodge, he walked up the avenue through the +deep gloom beneath the beeches. Near the house, the first notes of +“Grudel perche finora” reached him, and he stepped softly on to the turf +lest his footsteps on the gravel should rouse the dogs and make them +mar the harmony by barking. A rustle made him stop and listen. Then +Gertrude’s voice whispered through the darkness: + +“What did you mean by what you said to me within?” + +An extraordinary sensation shook Erskine; confused ideas of fairyland +ran through his imagination. A bitter disappointment, like that of +waking from a happy dream, followed as Trefusis’s voice, more finely +tuned than he had ever heard it before, answered, + +“Merely that the expanse of stars above us is not more illimitable than +my contempt for Miss Lindsay, nor brighter than my hopes of Gertrude.” + +“Miss Lindsay always to you, if you please, Mr. Trefusis.” + +“Miss Lindsay never to me, but only to those who cannot see through +her to the soul within, which is Gertrude. There are a thousand Miss +Lindsays in the world, formal and false. There is but one Gertrude.” + +“I am an unprotected girl, Mr. Trefusis, and you can call me what you +please.” + +It occurred to Erskine that this was a fit occasion to rush forward and +give Trefusis, whose figure he could now dimly discern, a black eye. But +he hesitated, and the opportunity passed. + +“Unprotected!” said Trefusis. “Why, you are fenced round and barred in +with conventions, laws, and lies that would frighten the truth from the +lips of any man whose faith in Gertrude was less strong than mine. Go +to Sir Charles and tell him what I have said to Miss Lindsay, and within +ten minutes I shall have passed these gates with a warning never to +approach them again. I am in your power, and were I in Miss Lindsay’s +power alone, my shrift would be short. Happily, Gertrude, though she +sees as yet but darkly, feels that Miss Lindsay is her bitterest foe.” + +“It is ridiculous. I am not two persons; I am only one. What does it +matter to me if your contempt for me is as illimitable as the stars?” + +“Ah, you remember that, do you? Whenever you hear a man talking about +the stars you may conclude that he is either an astronomer or a fool. +But you and a fine starry night would make a fool of any man.” + +“I don’t understand you. I try to, but I cannot; or, if I guess, I +cannot tell whether you are in earnest or not.” + +“I am very much in earnest. Abandon at once and for ever all misgivings +that I am trifling with you, or passing an idle hour as men do when they +find themselves in the company of beautiful women. I mean what I say +literally, and in the deepest sense. You doubt me; we have brought +society to such a state that we all suspect one another. But whatever is +true will command belief sooner or later from those who have wit enough +to comprehend truth. Now let me recall Miss Lindsay to consciousness by +remarking that we have been out for ten minutes, and that our hostess is +not the woman to allow our absence to pass without comment.” + +“Let us go in. Thank you for reminding me.” + +“Thank you for forgetting.” + +Erskine heard their footsteps retreating, and presently saw the two +enter the glow of light that shone from the open window of the billiard +room, through which they went indoors. Trefusis, a man whom he had seen +that day in a beautiful landscape, blind to everything except a row of +figures in a Blue Book, was his successful rival, although it was +plain from the very sound of his voice that he did not--could not--love +Gertrude. Only a poet could do that. Trefusis was no poet, but a sordid +brute unlikely to inspire interest in anything more human than a public +meeting, much less in a woman, much less again in a woman so ethereal +as Gertrude. She was proud too, yet she had allowed the fellow to insult +her--had forgiven him for the sake of a few broad compliments. Erskine +grew angry and cynical. The situation did not suit his poetry. Instead +of being stricken to the heart with a solemn sorrow, as a Patriot +Martyr would have been under similar circumstances, he felt slighted and +ridiculous. He was hardly convinced of what had seemed at first the most +obvious feature of the case, Trefusis’s inferiority to himself. + +He stood under the trees until Trefusis reappeared on his way home, +making, Erskine thought, as much noise with his heels on the gravel as a +regiment of delicately bred men would have done. He stopped for a moment +to make inquiry at the lodge as he went out; then his footsteps died +away in the distance. + +Erskine, chilled, stiff, and with a sensation of a bad cold coming on, +went into the house, and was relieved to find that Gertrude had retired, +and that Lady Brandon, though she had been sure that he had ridden into +the river in the dark, had nevertheless provided a warm supper for him. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Erskine soon found plenty of themes for his newly begotten cynicism. +Gertrude’s manner towards him softened so much that he, believing her +heart given to his rival, concluded that she was tempting him to make a +proposal which she had no intention of accepting. Sir Charles, to whom +he told what he had overheard in the avenue, professed sympathy, but +was evidently pleased to learn that there was nothing serious in the +attentions Trefusis paid to Agatha. Erskine wrote three bitter sonnets +on hollow friendship and showed them to Sir Charles, who, failing to +apply them to himself, praised them highly and showed them to Trefusis +without asking the author’s permission. Trefusis remarked that in a +corrupt society expressions of dissatisfaction were always creditable to +a writer’s sensibility; but he did not say much in praise of the verse. + +“Why has he taken to writing in this vein?” he said. “Has he been +disappointed in any way of late? Has he proposed to Miss Lindsay and +been rejected?” + +“No,” said Sir Charles surprised by this blunt reference to a subject +they had never before discussed. “He does not intend to propose to Miss +Lindsay.” + +“But he did intend to.” + +“He certainly did, but he has given up the idea.” + +“Why?” said Trefusis, apparently disapproving strongly of the +renunciation. + +Sir Charles shrugged his shoulders and did not reply. + +“I am sorry to hear it. I wish you could induce him to change his mind. +He is a nice fellow, with enough to live on comfortably, whilst he +is yet what is called a poor man, so that she could feel perfectly +disinterested in marrying him. It will do her good to marry without +making a pecuniary profit by it; she will respect herself the more +afterwards, and will neither want bread and butter nor be ashamed of +her husband’s origin, in spite of having married for love alone. Make +a match of it if you can. I take an interest in the girl; she has good +instincts.” + +Sir Charles’s suspicion that Trefusis was really paying court to Agatha +returned after this conversation, which he repeated to Erskine, who, +much annoyed because his poems had been shown to a reader of Blue Books, +thought it only a blind for Trefusis’s design upon Gertrude. Sir Charles +pooh-poohed this view, and the two friends were sharp with one another +in discussing it. After dinner, when the ladies had left them, Sir +Charles, repentant and cordial, urged Erskine to speak to Gertrude +without troubling himself as to the sincerity of Trefusis. But Erskine, +knowing himself ill able to brook a refusal, was loth to expose himself. + +“If you had heard the tone of her voice when she asked him whether +he was in earnest, you would not talk to me like this,” he said +despondently. “I wish he had never come here.” + +“Well, that, at least, was no fault of mine, my dear fellow,” said Sir +Charles. “He came among us against my will. And now that he appears to +have been in the right--legally--about the field, it would look like +spite if I cut him. Besides, he really isn’t a bad man if he would only +let the women alone.” + +“If he trifles with Miss Lindsay, I shall ask him to cross the Channel, +and have a shot at him.” + +“I don’t think he’d go,” said Sir Charles dubiously. “If I were you, I +would try my luck with Gertrude at once. In spite of what you heard, I +don’t believe she would marry a man of his origin. His money gives +him an advantage, certainly, but Gertrude has sent richer men to the +rightabout.” + +“Let the fellow have fair play,” said Erskine. “I may be wrong, of +course; all men are liable to err in judging themselves, but I think I +could make her happier than he can.” + +Sir Charles was not so sure of that, but he cheerfully responded, +“Certainly. He is not the man for her at all, and you are. He knows it, +too.” + +“Hmf!” muttered Erskine, rising dejectedly. “Let’s go upstairs.” + +“By-the-bye, we are to call on him to-morrow, to go through his house, +and his collection of photographs. Photographs! Ha, ha! Damn his house!” + said Erskine. + +Next day they went together to Sallust’s House. It stood in the midst of +an acre of land, waste except a little kitchen garden at the rear. The +lodge at the entrance was uninhabited, and the gates stood open, with +dust and fallen leaves heaped up against them. Free ingress had thus +been afforded to two stray ponies, a goat, and a tramp, who lay asleep +in the grass. His wife sat near, watching him. + +“I have a mind to turn back,” said Sir Charles, looking about him in +disgust. “The place is scandalously neglected. Look at that rascal +asleep within full view of the windows.” + +“I admire his cheek,” said Erskine. “Nice pair of ponies, too.” + +Sallust’s House was square and painted cinnamon color. Beneath the +cornice was a yellow frieze with figures of dancing children, imitated +from the works of Donatello, and very unskilfully executed. There was +a meagre portico of four columns, painted red, and a plain pediment, +painted yellow. The colors, meant to match those of the walls, +contrasted disagreeably with them, having been applied more recently, +apparently by a color-blind artist. The door beneath the portico stood +open. Sir Charles rang the bell, and an elderly woman answered it; but +before they could address her, Trefusis appeared, clad in a painter’s +jacket of white jean. Following him in, they found that the house was a +hollow square, enclosing a courtyard with a bath sunk in the middle, and +a fountain in the centre of the bath. The courtyard, formerly open to +the sky, was now roofed in with dusty glass; the nymph that had once +poured out the water of the fountain was barren and mutilated; and +the bath was partly covered in with loose boards, the exposed part +accommodating a heap of coals in one corner, a heap of potatoes in +another, a beer barrel, some old carpets, a tarpaulin, and a broken +canoe. The marble pavement extended to the outer walls of the house, and +was roofed in at the sides by the upper stories which were supported by +fluted stone columns, much stained and chipped. The staircase, towards +which Trefusis led his visitors, was a broad one at the end opposite the +door, and gave access to a gallery leading to the upper rooms. + +“This house was built in 1780 by an ancestor of my mother,” said +Trefusis. “He passed for a man of exquisite taste. He wished the place +to be maintained forever--he actually used that expression in his +will--as the family seat, and he collected a fine library here, which +I found useful, as all the books came into my hands in good condition, +most of them with the leaves uncut. Some people prize uncut copies of +old editions; a dealer gave me three hundred and fifty pounds for a +lot of them. I came into possession of a number of family +fetishes--heirlooms, as they are called. There was a sword that one of +my forbears wore at Edgehill and other battles in Charles the First’s +time. We fought on the wrong side, of course, but the sword fetched +thirty-five shillings nevertheless. You will hardly believe that I +was offered one hundred and fifty pounds for a gold cup worth about +twenty-five, merely because Queen Elizabeth once drank from it. This is +my study. It was designed for a banqueting hall.” + +They entered a room as long as the wall of the house, pierced on one +side by four tall windows, between which square pillars, with Corinthian +capitals supporting the cornice, were half sunk in the wall. There +were similar pillars on the opposite side, but between them, instead of +windows, were arched niches in which stood life-size plaster statues, +chipped, broken, and defaced in an extraordinary fashion. The flooring, +of diagonally set narrow boards, was uncarpeted and unpolished. The +ceiling was adorned with frescoes, which at once excited Sir Charles’s +interest, and he noted with indignation that a large portion of the +painting at the northern end had been destroyed and some glass roofing +inserted. In another place bolts had been driven in to support the ropes +of a trapeze and a few other pieces of gymnastic apparatus. The walls +were whitewashed, and at about four feet from the ground a dark band +appeared, produced by pencil memoranda and little sketches scribbled on +the whitewash. One end of the apartment was unfurnished, except by the +gymnastic apparatus, a photographer’s camera, a ladder in the corner, +and a common deal table with oil cans and paint pots upon it. At the +other end a comparatively luxurious show was made by a large bookcase, +an elaborate combination of bureau and writing desk, a rack with a +rifle, a set of foils, and an umbrella in it, several folio albums on a +table, some comfortable chairs and sofas, and a thick carpet under foot. +Close by, and seeming much out of place, was a carpenter’s bench with +the usual implements and a number of boards of various thicknesses. + +“This is a sort of comfort beyond the reach of any but a rich man,” said +Trefusis, turning and surprising his visitors in the act of exchanging +glances of astonishment at his taste. “I keep a drawing-room of the +usual kind for receiving strangers with whom it is necessary to be +conventional, but I never enter it except on such occasions. What do you +think of this for a study?” + +“On my soul, Trefusis, I think you are mad,” said Sir Charles. “The +place looks as if it had stood a siege. How did you manage to break the +statues and chip the walls so outrageously?” + +Trefusis took a newspaper from the table and said, “Listen to this: +‘In spite of the unfavorable nature of the weather, the sport of the +Emperor and his guests in Styria has been successful. In three days 52 +chamois and 79 stags and deer fell to 19 single-barrelled rifles, the +Emperor allowing no more on this occasion.’ + +“I share the Emperor’s delight in shooting, but I am no butcher, and do +not need the royal relish of blood to my sport. And I do not share my +ancestors’ taste in statuary. Hence--” Here Trefusis opened a drawer, +took out a pistol, and fired at the Hebe in the farthest niche. + +“Well done!” said Erskine coolly, as the last fragment of Hebe’s head +crumbled at the touch of the bullet. + +“Very fruitlessly done,” said Trefusis. “I am a good shot, but of what +use is it to me? None. I once met a gamekeeper who was a Methodist. He +was a most eloquent speaker, but a bad shot. If he could have swapped +talents with me I would have given him ten thousand pounds to boot +willingly, although he would have profited as much as I by the exchange +alone. I have no more desire or need to be a good shot than to be +king of England, or owner of a Derby winner, or anything else equally +ridiculous, and yet I never missed my aim in my life--thank blind +fortune for nothing!” + +“King of England!” said Erskine, with a scornful laugh, to show Trefusis +that other people were as liberty-loving as he. “Is it not absurd to +hear a nation boasting of its freedom and tolerating a king?” + +“Oh, hang your republicanism, Chester!” said Sir Charles, who privately +held a low opinion of the political side of the Patriot Martyrs. + +“I won’t be put down on that point,” said Erskine. “I admire a man that +kills a king. You will agree with me there, Trefusis, won’t you?” + +“Certainly not,” said Trefusis. “A king nowadays is only a dummy put up +to draw your fire off the real oppressors of society, and the fraction +of his salary that he can spend as he likes is usually far too small for +his risk, his trouble, and the condition of personal slavery to which +he is reduced. What private man in England is worse off than the +constitutional monarch? We deny him all privacy; he may not marry whom +he chooses, consort with whom he prefers, dress according to his taste, +or live where he pleases. I don’t believe he may even eat or drink what +he likes best; a taste for tripe and onions on his part would provoke +a remonstrance from the Privy Council. We dictate everything except his +thoughts and dreams, and even these he must keep to himself if they are +not suitable, in our opinion, to his condition. The work we impose on +him has all the hardship of mere task work; it is unfruitful, incessant, +monotonous, and has to be transacted for the most part with nervous +bores. We make his kingdom a treadmill to him, and drive him to and fro +on the face of it. Finally, having taken everything else that men prize +from him, we fall upon his character, and that of every person to whom +he ventures to show favor. We impose enormous expenses on him, +stint him, and then rail at his parsimony. We use him as I use those +statues--stick him up in the place of honor for our greater convenience +in disfiguring and abusing him. We send him forth through our crowded +cities, proclaiming that he is the source of all good and evil in the +nation, and he, knowing that many people believe it, knowing that it is +a lie, and that he is powerless to shorten the working day by one hour, +raise wages one penny, or annul the smallest criminal sentence, however +unjust it may seem to him; knowing that every miner in the kingdom can +manufacture dynamite, and that revolvers are sold for seven and sixpence +apiece; knowing that he is not bullet proof, and that every king in +Europe has been shot at in the streets; he must smile and bow and +maintain an expression of gracious enjoyment whilst the mayor and +corporation inflict upon him the twaddling address he has heard a +thousand times before. I do not ask you to be loyal, Erskine; but I +expect you, in common humanity, to sympathize with the chief figure +in the pageant, who is no more accountable for the manifold evils and +abominations that exist in his realm than the Lord Mayor is accountable +for the thefts of the pickpockets who follow his show on the ninth of +November.” + +Sir Charles laughed at the trouble Trefusis took to prove his case, and +said soothingly, “My dear fellow, kings are used to it, and expect it, +and like it.” + +“And probably do not see themselves as I see them, any more than common +people do,” assented Trefusis. + +“What an exquisite face!” exclaimed Erskine suddenly, catching sight of +a photograph in a rich gold and coral frame on a miniature easel draped +with ruby velvet. Trefusis turned quickly, so evidently gratified that +Sir Charles hastened to say, “Charming!” Then, looking at the portrait, +he added, as if a little startled, “It certainly is an extraordinarily +attractive face.” + +“Years ago,” said Trefusis, “when I saw that face for the first time, I +felt as you feel now.” + +Silence ensued, the two visitors looking at the portrait, Trefusis +looking at them. + +“Curious style of beauty,” said Sir Charles at last, not quite so +assuredly as before. + +Trefusis laughed unpleasantly. “Do you recognize the artist--the +enthusiastic amateur--in her?” he said, opening another drawer and +taking out a bundle of drawings, which he handed to be examined. + +“Very clever. Very clever indeed,” said Sir Charles. “I should like to +meet the lady.” + +“I have often been on the point of burning them,” said Trefusis; “but +there they are, and there they are likely to remain. The portrait has +been much admired.” + +“Can you give us an introduction to the original, old fellow?” said +Erskine. + +“No, happily. She is dead.” + +Disagreeably shocked, they looked at him for a moment with aversion. +Then Erskine, turning with pity and disappointment to the picture, said, +“Poor girl! Was she married?” + +“Yes. To me.” + +“Mrs. Trefusis!” exclaimed Sir Charles. “Ah! Dear me!” + +Erskine, with proof before him that it was possible for a beautiful girl +to accept Trefusis, said nothing. + +“I keep her portrait constantly before me to correct my natural +amativeness. I fell in love with her and married her. I have fallen in +love once or twice since but a glance at my lost Hetty has cured me of +the slightest inclination to marry.” + +Sir Charles did not reply. It occurred to him that Lady Brandon’s +portrait, if nothing else were left of her, might be useful in the same +way. + +“Come, you will marry again one of these days,” said Erskine, in a +forced tone of encouragement. + +“It is possible. Men should marry, especially rich men. But I assure you +I have no present intention of doing so.” + +Erskine’s color deepened, and he moved away to the table where the +albums lay. + +“This is the collection of photographs I spoke of,” said Trefusis, +following him and opening one of the books. “I took many of them myself +under great difficulties with regard to light--the only difficulty that +money could not always remove. This is a view of my father’s house--or +rather one of his houses. It cost seventy-five thousand pounds.” + +“Very handsome indeed,” said Sir Charles, secretly disgusted at being +invited to admire a photograph, such as house agents exhibit, of a +vulgarly designed country house, merely because it had cost seventy-five +thousand pounds. The figures were actually written beneath the picture. + +“This is the drawing-room, and this one of the best bedrooms. In the +right-hand corner of the mount you will see a note of the cost of +the furniture, fittings, napery, and so forth. They were of the most +luxurious description.” + +“Very interesting,” said Sir Charles, hardly disguising the irony of the +comment. + +“Here is a view--this is the first of my own attempts--of the apartment +of one of the under servants. It is comfortable and spacious, and +solidly furnished.” + +“So I perceive.” + +“These are the stables. Are they not handsome?” + +“Palatial. Quite palatial.” + +“There is every luxury that a horse could desire, including plenty of +valets to wait on him. You are noting the figures, I hope. There is the +cost of the building and the expenditure per horse per annum.” + +“I see.” + +“Here is the exterior of a house. What do you think of it?” + +“It is rather picturesque in its dilapidation.” + +“Picturesque! Would you like to live in it?” + +“No,” said Erskine. “I don’t see anything very picturesque about it. +What induced you to photograph such a wretched old rookery?” + +“Here is a view of the best room in it. Photography gives you a fair +idea of the broken flooring and patched windows, but you must imagine +the dirt and the odor of the place. Some of the stains are weather +stains, others came from smoke and filth. The landlord of the house +holds it from a peer and lets it out in tenements. Three families +occupied that room when I photographed it. You will see by the figures +in the corner that it is more profitable to the landlord than an average +house in Mayfair. Here is the cellar, let to a family for one and +sixpence a week, and considered a bargain. The sun never shines there, +of course. I took it by artificial light. You may add to the rent the +cost of enough bad beer to make the tenant insensible to the filth of +the place. Beer is the chloroform that enables the laborer to endure the +severe operation of living; that is why we can always assure one another +over our wine that the rascal’s misery is due to his habit of drinking. +We are down on him for it, because, if he could bear his life without +beer, we should save his beer-money--get him for lower wages. In short, +we should be richer and he soberer. Here is the yard; the arrangements +are indescribable. Seven of the inhabitants of that house had worked for +years in my father’s mill. That is, they had created a considerable part +of the vast sums of money for drawing your attention to which you were +disgusted with me just now.” + +“Not at all,” said Sir Charles faintly. + +“You can see how their condition contrasts with that of my father’s +horses. The seven men to whom I have alluded, with three hundred others, +were thrown destitute upon the streets by this.” (Here he turned over a +leaf and displayed a photograph of an elaborate machine.) “It enabled my +father to dispense with their services, and to replace them by a handful +of women and children. He had bought the patent of the machine for fifty +pounds from the inventor, who was almost ruined by the expenses of his +ingenuity, and would have sacrificed anything for a handful of ready +money. Here is a portrait of my father in his masonic insignia. He +believed that freemasons generally get on in the world, and as the main +object of his life was to get on, he joined them, and wanted me to do +the same. But I object to pretended secret societies and hocus pocus, +and would not. You see what he was--a portly, pushing, egotistical +tradesman. Mark the successful man, the merchant prince with argosies +on every sea, the employer of thousands of hands, the munificent +contributor to public charities, the churchwarden, the member +of parliament, and the generous patron of his relatives his +self-approbation struggling with the instinctive sense of baseness +in the money-hunter, the ignorant and greedy filcher of the labor +of others, the seller of his own mind and manhood for luxuries and +delicacies that he was too lowlived to enjoy, and for the society of +people who made him feel his inferiority at every turn.” + +“And the man to whom you owe everything you possess,” said Erskine +boldly. + +“I possess very little. Everything he left me, except a few pictures, I +spent long ago, and even that was made by his slaves and not by him. My +wealth comes day by day fresh from the labor of the wretches who live in +the dens I have just shown you, or of a few aristocrats of labor who are +within ten shillings a week of being worse off. However, there is some +excuse for my father. Once, at an election riot, I got into a free +fight. I am a peaceful man, but as I had either to fight or be knocked +down and trampled upon, I exchanged blows with men who were perhaps as +peacefully disposed as I. My father, launched into a free competition +(free in the sense that the fight is free: that is, lawless)--my father +had to choose between being a slave himself and enslaving others. +He chose the latter, and as he was applauded and made much of for +succeeding, who dare blame him? Not I. Besides, he did something to +destroy the anarchy that enabled him to plunder society with impunity. +He furnished me, its enemy, with the powerful weapon of a large fortune. +Thus our system of organizing industry sometimes hatches the eggs from +which its destroyers break. Does Lady Brandon wear much lace?” + +“I--No; that is--How the deuce do I know, Trefusis? What an +extraordinary question!” + +“This is a photograph of a lace school. It was a filthy room, twelve +feet square. It was paved with brick, and the children were not allowed +to wear their boots, lest the lace should get muddy. However, as +there were twenty of them working there for fifteen hours a day--all +girls--they did not suffer much from cold. They were pretty tightly +packed--may be still, for aught I know. They brought three or four +shillings a week sometimes to their fond parents; and they were very +quick-fingered little creatures, and stuck intensely to their work, as +the overseer always hit them when they looked up or--” + +“Trefusis,” said Sir Charles, turning away from the table, “I beg your +pardon, but I have no appetite for horrors. You really must not ask me +to go through your collection. It is no doubt very interesting, but I +can’t stand it. Have you nothing pleasant to entertain me with?” + +“Pooh! you are squeamish. However, as you are a novice, let us put off +the rest until you are seasoned. The pictures are not all horrible. Each +book refers to a different country. That one contains illustrations of +modern civilization in Germany, for instance. That one is France; that, +British India. Here you have the United States of America, home of +liberty, theatre of manhood suffrage, kingless and lordless land of +Protection, Republicanism, and the realized Radical Programme, where all +the black chattel slaves were turned into wage-slaves (like my father’s +white fellows) at a cost of 800,000 lives and wealth incalculable. +You and I are paupers in comparison with the great capitalists of that +country, where the laborers fight for bones with the Chinamen, like +dogs. Some of these great men presented me with photographs of their +yachts and palaces, not anticipating the use to which I would put them. +Here are some portraits that will not harrow your feelings. This is my +mother, a woman of good family, every inch a lady. Here is a Lancashire +lass, the daughter of a common pitman. She has exactly the same physical +characteristics as my well-born mother--the same small head, delicate +features, and so forth; they might be sisters. This villainous-looking +pair might be twin brothers, except that there is a trace of good humor +about the one to the right. The good-humored one is a bargee on the +Lyvern Canal. The other is one of the senior noblemen of the British +Peerage. They illustrate the fact that Nature, even when perverted by +generations of famine fever, ignores the distinctions we set up +between men. This group of men and women, all tolerably intelligent +and thoughtful looking, are so-called enemies of society--Nihilists, +Anarchists, Communards, members of the International, and so on. These +other poor devils, worried, stiff, strumous, awkward, vapid, and rather +coarse, with here and there a passably pretty woman, are European kings, +queens, grand-dukes, and the like. Here are ship-captains, criminals, +poets, men of science, peers, peasants, political economists, and +representatives of dozens of degrees. The object of the collection is +to illustrate the natural inequality of man, and the failure of our +artificial inequality to correspond with it.” + +“It seems to me a sort of infernal collection for the upsetting of +people’s ideas,” said Erskine. “You ought to label it ‘A Portfolio of +Paradoxes.’” + +“In a rational state of society they would be paradoxes; but now +the time gives them proof--like Hamlet’s paradox. It is, however, a +collection of facts; and I will give no fanciful name to it. You dislike +figures, don’t you?” + +“Unless they are by Phidias, yes.” + +“Here are a few, not by Phidias. This is the balance sheet of an +attempt I made some years ago to carry out the idea of an International +Association of Laborers--commonly known as THE International--or union +of all workmen throughout the world in defence of the interests of +labor. You see the result. Expenditure, four thousand five hundred +pounds. Subscriptions received from working-men, twenty-two pounds seven +and ten pence halfpenny. The British workmen showed their sense of my +efforts to emancipate them by accusing me of making a good thing out of +the Association for my own pocket, and by mobbing and stoning me twice. +I now help them only when they show some disposition to help themselves. +I occupy myself partly in working out a scheme for the reorganization of +industry, and partly in attacking my own class, women and all, as I am +attacking you.” + +“There is little use in attacking us, I fear,” said Sir Charles. + +“Great use,” said Trefusis confidently. “You have a very different +opinion of our boasted civilization now from that which you held when I +broke your wall down and invited those Land Nationalization zealots to +march across your pleasure ground. You have seen in my album something +you had not seen an hour ago, and you are consequently not quite the +same man you were an hour ago. My pictures stick in the mind longer than +your scratchy etchings, or the leaden things in which you fancy you see +tender harmonies in gray. Erskine’s next drama may be about liberty, +but its Patriot Martyrs will have something better to do than spout +balderdash against figure-head kings who in all their lives never +secretly plotted as much dastardly meanness, greed, cruelty, and +tyranny as is openly voted for in London by every half-yearly meeting +of dividend-consuming vermin whose miserable wage-slaves drudge sixteen +hours out of the twenty-four.” + +“What is going to be the end of it all?” said Sir Charles, a little +dazed. + +“Socialism or Smash. Socialism if the race has at last evolved the +faculty of coordinating the functions of a society too crowded and +complex to be worked any longer on the old haphazard private-property +system. Unless we reorganize our society socialistically--humanly a most +arduous and magnificent enterprise, economically a most simple and sound +one--Free Trade by itself will ruin England, and I will tell you exactly +how. When my father made his fortune we had the start of all other +nations in the organization of our industry and in our access to iron +and coal. Other nations bought our products for less than they must have +spent to raise them at home, and yet for so much more than they cost +us, that profits rolled in Atlantic waves upon our capitalists. When +the workers, by their trades-unions, demanded a share of the luck in +the form of advanced wages, it paid better to give them the little they +dared to ask than to stop gold-gathering to fight and crush them. But +now our customers have set up in their own countries improved copies of +our industrial organization, and have discovered places where iron +and coal are even handier than they are by this time in England. They +produce for themselves, or buy elsewhere, what they formerly bought +from us. Our profits are vanishing, our machinery is standing idle, +our workmen are locked out. It pays now to stop the mills and fight +and crush the unions when the men strike, no longer for an advance, but +against a reduction. Now that these unions are beaten, helpless, and +drifting to bankruptcy as the proportion of unemployed men in their +ranks becomes greater, they are being petted and made much of by our +class; an infallible sign that they are making no further progress in +their duty of destroying us. The small capitalists are left stranded by +the ebb; the big ones will follow the tide across the water, and +rebuild their factories where steam power, water power, labor power, +and transport are now cheaper than in England, where they used to be +cheapest. The workers will emigrate in pursuit of the factory, but they +will multiply faster than they emigrate, and be told that their own +exorbitant demand for wages is driving capital abroad, and must continue +to do so whilst there is a Chinaman or a Hindoo unemployed to underbid +them. As the British factories are shut up, they will be replaced by +villas; the manufacturing districts will become fashionable resorts for +capitalists living on the interest of foreign investments; the farms and +sheep runs will be cleared for deer forests. All products that can +in the nature of things be manufactured elsewhere than where they are +consumed will be imported in payment of deer-forest rents from foreign +sportsmen, or of dividends due to shareholders resident in England, but +holding shares in companies abroad, and these imports will not be paid +for by ex ports, because rent and interest are not paid for at all--a +fact which the Free Traders do not yet see, or at any rate do not +mention, although it is the key to the whole mystery of their opponents. +The cry for Protection will become wild, but no one will dare resort to +a demonstrably absurd measure that must raise prices before it raises +wages, and that has everywhere failed to benefit the worker. There will +be no employment for anyone except in doing things that must be done on +the spot, such as unpacking and distributing the imports, ministering to +the proprietors as domestic servants, or by acting, preaching, paving, +lighting, housebuilding, and the rest; and some of these, as the +capitalist comes to regard ostentation as vulgar, and to enjoy a simpler +life, will employ fewer and fewer people. A vast proletariat, beginning +with a nucleus of those formerly employed in export trades, with their +multiplying progeny, will be out of employment permanently. They will +demand access to the land and machinery to produce for themselves. They +will be refused. They will break a few windows and be dispersed with +a warning to their leaders. They will burn a few houses and murder a +policeman or two, and then an example will be made of the warned. They +will revolt, and be shot down with machine-guns--emigrated--exterminated +anyhow and everyhow; for the proprietary classes have no idea of any +other means of dealing with the full claims of labor. You yourself, +though you would give fifty pounds to Jansenius’s emigration fund +readily enough, would call for the police, the military, and the Riot +Act, if the people came to Brandon Beeches and bade you turn out and +work for your living with the rest. Well, the superfluous proletariat +destroyed, there will remain a population of capitalists living on +gratuitous imports and served by a disaffected retinue. One day the +gratuitous imports will stop in consequence of the occurrence abroad of +revolution and repudiation, fall in the rate of interest, purchase of +industries by governments for lump sums, not reinvestable, or what +not. Our capitalist community is then thrown on the remains of the last +dividend, which it consumes long before it can rehabilitate its extinct +machinery of production in order to support itself with its own hands. +Horses, dogs, cats, rats, blackberries, mushrooms, and cannibalism only +postpone--” + +“Ha! ha! ha!” shouted Sir Charles. “On my honor, I thought you were +serious at first, Trefusis. Come, confess, old chap; it’s all a fad of +yours. I half suspected you of being a bit of a crank.” And he winked at +Erskine. + +“What I have described to you is the inevitable outcome of our present +Free Trade policy without Socialism. The theory of Free Trade is only +applicable to systems of exchange, not to systems of spoliation. Our +system is one of spoliation, and if we don’t abandon it, we must either +return to Protection or go to smash by the road I have just mapped. Now, +sooner than let the Protectionists triumph, the Cobden Club itself would +blow the gaff and point out to the workers that Protection only means +compelling the proprietors of England to employ slaves resident +in England and therefore presumably--though by no means +necessarily--Englishmen. This would open the eyes of the nation at last +to the fact that England is not their property. Once let them understand +that and they would soon make it so. When England is made the property +of its inhabitants collectively, England becomes socialistic. Artificial +inequality will vanish then before real freedom of contract; freedom +of competition, or unhampered emulation, will keep us moving ahead; and +Free Trade will fulfil its promises at last.” + +“And the idlers and loafers,” said Erskine. “What of them?” + +“You and I, in fact,” said Trefusis, “die of starvation, I suppose, +unless we choose to work, or unless they give us a little out-door +relief in consideration of our bad bringing-up.” + +“Do you mean that they will plunder us?” said Sir Charles. + +“I mean that they will make us stop plundering them. If they hesitate +to strip us naked, or to cut our throats if we offer them the smallest +resistance, they will show us more mercy than we ever showed them. +Consider what we have done to get our rents in Ireland and Scotland, and +our dividends in Egypt, if you have already forgotten my photographs and +their lesson in our atrocities at home. Why, man, we murder the great +mass of these toilers with overwork and hardship; their average lifetime +is not half as long as ours. Human nature is the same in them as in us. +If we resist them, and succeed in restoring order, as we call it, we +will punish them mercilessly for their insubordination, as we did in +Paris in 1871, where, by-the-bye, we taught them the folly of giving +their enemies quarter. If they beat us, we shall catch it, and serve us +right. Far better turn honest at once and avert bloodshed. Eh, Erskine?” + +Erskine was considering what reply he should make, when Trefusis +disconcerted him by ringing a bell. Presently the elderly woman +appeared, pushing before her an oblong table mounted on wheels, like a +barrow. + +“Thank you,” said Trefusis, and dismissed her. “Here is some good wine, +some good water, some good fruit, and some good bread. I know that +you cling to wine as to a good familiar creature. As for me, I make no +distinction between it and other vegetable poisons. I abstain from them +all. Water for serenity, wine for excitement. I, having boiling springs +of excitement within myself, am never at a loss for it, and have only +to seek serenity. However,” (here he drew a cork), “a generous goblet +of this will make you feel like gods for half an hour at least. Shall we +drink to your conversion to Socialism?” + +Sir Charles shook his head. + +“Come, Mr. Donovan Brown, the great artist, is a Socialist, and why +should not you be one?” + +“Donovan Brown!” exclaimed Sir Charles with interest. “Is it possible? +Do you know him personally?” + +“Here are several letters from him. You may read them; the mere +autograph of such a man is interesting.” + +Sir Charles took the letters and read them earnestly, Erskine reading +over his shoulder. + +“I most cordially agree with everything he says here,” said Sir Charles. +“It is quite true, quite true.” + +“Of course you agree with us. Donovan Brown’s eminence as an artist has +gained me one recruit, and yours as a baronet will gain me some more.” + +“But--” + +“But what?” said Trefusis, deftly opening one of the albums at a +photograph of a loathsome room. + +“You are against that, are you not? Donovan Brown is against it, and I +am against it. You may disagree with us in everything else, but there +you are at one with us. Is it not so?” + +“But that may be the result of drunkenness, improvidence, or--” + +“My father’s income was fifty times as great as that of Donovan +Brown. Do you believe that Donovan Brown is fifty times as drunken and +improvident as my father was?” + +“Certainly not. I do not deny that there is much in what you urge. +Still, you ask me to take a rather important step.” + +“Not a bit of it. I don’t ask you to subscribe to, join, or in any way +pledge yourself to any society or conspiracy whatsoever. I only want +your name for private mention to cowards who think Socialism right, but +will not say so because they do not think it respectable. They will not +be ashamed of their convictions when they learn that a baronet shares +them. Socialism offers you something already, you see; a good use for +your hitherto useless title.” + +Sir Charles colored a little, conscious that the example of his favorite +painter had influenced him more than his own conviction or the arguments +of Trefusis. + +“What do you think, Chester?” he said. “Will you join?” + +“Erskine is already committed to the cause of liberty by his published +writings,” said Trefusis. “Three of the pamphlets on that shelf contain +quotations from ‘The Patriot Martyrs.’” + +Erskine blushed, flattered by being quoted; an attention that had been +shown him only once before, and then by a reviewer with the object of +proving that the Patriot Martyrs were slovenly in their grammar. + +“Come!” said Trefusis. “Shall I write to Donovan Brown that his letters +have gained the cordial assent and sympathy of Sir Charles Brandon?” + +“Certainly, certainly. That is, if my unknown name would be of the least +interest to him.” + +“Good,” said Trefusis, filling his glass with water. “Erskine, let us +drink to our brother Social Democrat.” + +Erskine laughed loudly, but not heartily. “What an ass you are, +Brandon!” he said. “You, with a large landed estate, and bags of gold +invested in railways, calling yourself a Social Democrat! Are you going +to sell out and distribute--to sell all that thou hast and give to the +poor?” + +“Not a penny,” replied Trefusis for him promptly. “A man cannot be a +Christian in this country. I have tried it and found it impossible both +in law and in fact. I am a capitalist and a landholder. I have railway +shares, mining shares, building shares, bank shares, and stock of most +kinds; and a great trouble they are to me. But these shares do not +represent wealth actually in existence; they are a mortgage on the labor +of unborn generations of laborers, who must work to keep me and mine in +idleness and luxury. If I sold them, would the mortgage be cancelled and +the unborn generations released from its thrall? No. It would only pass +into the hands of some other capitalist, and the working class would be +no better off for my self-sacrifice. Sir Charles cannot obey the command +of Christ; I defy him to do it. Let him give his land for a public park; +only the richer classes will have leisure to enjoy it. Plant it at the +very doors of the poor, so that they may at last breathe its air, and it +will raise the value of the neighboring houses and drive the poor away. +Let him endow a school for the poor, like Eton or Christ’s Hospital, +and the rich will take it for their own children as they do in the +two instances I have named. Sir Charles does not want to minister to +poverty, but to abolish it. No matter how much you give to the poor, +everything except a bare subsistence wage will be taken from them again +by force. All talk of practicing Christianity, or even bare justice, is +at present mere waste of words. How can you justly reward the laborer +when you cannot ascertain the value of what he makes, owing to the +prevalent custom of stealing it? I know this by experience. I wanted to +pay a just price for my wife’s tomb, but I could not find out its +value, and never shall. The principle on which we farm out our national +industry to private marauders, who recompense themselves by black-mail, +so corrupts and paralyzes us that we cannot be honest even when we want +to. And the reason we bear it so calmly is that very few of us really +want to.” + +“I must study this question of value,” said Sir Charles dubiously, +refilling his goblet. “Can you recommend me a good book on the subject?” + +“Any good treatise on political economy will do,” said Trefusis. “In +economics all roads lead to Socialism, although in nine cases out of +ten, so far, the economist doesn’t recognize his destination, and incurs +the malediction pronounced by Jeremiah on those who justify the wicked +for reward. I will look you out a book or two. And if you will call on +Donovan Brown the next time you are in London, he will be delighted, I +know. He meets with very few who are capable of sympathizing with him +from both his points of view--social and artistic.” + +Sir Charles brightened on being reminded of Donovan Brown. “I shall +esteem an introduction to him a great honor,” he said. “I had no idea +that he was a friend of yours.” + +“I was a very practical young Socialist when I first met him,” said +Trefusis. “When Brown was an unknown and wretchedly poor man, my +mother, at the petition of a friend of his, charitably bought one of +his pictures for thirty pounds, which he was very glad to get. Years +afterwards, when my mother was dead, and Brown famous, I was offered +eight hundred pounds for this picture, which was, by-the-bye, a very +bad one in my opinion. Now, after making the usual unjust allowance for +interest on thirty pounds for twelve years or so that had elapsed, the +sale of the picture would have brought me in a profit of over seven +hundred and fifty pounds, an unearned increment to which I had no +righteous claim. My solicitor, to whom I mentioned the matter, was of +opinion that I might justifiably pocket the seven hundred and fifty +pounds as reward for my mother’s benevolence in buying a presumably +worthless picture from an obscure painter. But he failed to convince me +that I ought to be paid for my mother’s virtues, though we agreed that +neither I nor my mother had received any return in the shape of pleasure +in contemplating the work, which had deteriorated considerably by the +fading of the colors since its purchase. At last I went to Brown’s +studio with the picture, and told him that it was worth nothing to me, +as I thought it a particularly bad one, and that he might have it back +again for fifteen pounds, half the first price. He at once told me that +I could get from any dealer more for it than he could afford to give me; +but he told me too that I had no right to make a profit out of his work, +and that he would give me the original price of thirty pounds. I took +it, and then sent him the man who had offered me the eight hundred. +To my discomfiture Brown refused to sell it on any terms, because he +considered it unworthy of his reputation. The man bid up to fifteen +hundred, but Brown held out; and I found that instead of putting seven +hundred and seventy pounds into his pocket I had taken thirty out of +it. I accordingly offered to return the thirty pieces. Brown, taking the +offer as an insult, declined all further communication with me. I then +insisted on the matter being submitted to arbitration, and demanded +fifteen hundred pounds as the full exchange value of the picture. All +the arbitrators agreed that this was monstrous, whereupon I contended +that if they denied my right to the value in exchange, they must admit +my right to the value in use. They assented to this after putting off +their decision for a fortnight in order to read Adam Smith and discover +what on earth I meant by my values in use and exchange. I now showed +that the picture had no value in use to me, as I disliked it, and that +therefore I was entitled to nothing, and that Brown must take back the +thirty pounds. They were glad to concede this also to me, as they were +all artist friends of Brown, and wished him not to lose money by the +transaction, though they of course privately thought that the picture +was, as I described it, a bad one. After that Brown and I became very +good friends. He tolerated my advances, at first lest it should seem +that he was annoyed by my disparagement of his work. Subsequently he +fell into my views much as you have done.” + +“That is very interesting,” said Sir Charles. “What a noble +thing--refusing fifteen hundred pounds! He could ill afford it, +probably.” + +“Heroic--according to nineteenth century notions of heroism. Voluntarily +to throw away a chance of making money! that is the ne plus ultra of +martyrdom. Brown’s wife was extremely angry with him for doing it.” + +“It is an interesting story--or might be made so,” said Erskine. “But +you make my head spin with your confounded exchange values and stuff. +Everything is a question of figures with you.” + +“That comes of my not being a poet,” said Trefusis. “But we Socialists +need to study the romantic side of our movement to interest women in it. +If you want to make a cause grow, instruct every woman you meet in it. +She is or will one day be a wife, and will contradict her husband with +scraps of your arguments. A squabble will follow. The son will listen, +and will be set thinking if he be capable of thought. And so the mind +of the people gets leavened. I have converted many young women. Most of +them know no more of the economic theory of Socialism than they know of +Chaldee; but they no longer fear or condemn its name. Oh, I assure you +that much can be done in that way by men who are not afraid of women, +and who are not in too great a hurry to see the harvest they have sown +for.” + +“Take care. Some of your lady proselytes may get the better of you some +day. The future husband to be contradicted may be Sidney Trefusis. Ha! +ha! ha!” Sir Charles had emptied a second large goblet of wine, and was +a little flushed and boisterous. + +“No,” said Trefusis, “I have had enough of love myself, and am not +likely to inspire it. Women do not care for men to whom, as Erskine +says, everything is a question of figures. I used to flirt with women; +now I lecture them, and abhor a man-flirt worse than I do a woman one. +Some more wine? Oh, you must not waste the remainder of this bottle.” + +“I think we had better go, Brandon,” said Erskine, his mistrust of +Trefusis growing. “We promised to be back before two.” + +“So you shall,” said Trefusis. “It is not yet a quarter past one. +By-the-bye, I have not shown you Donovan Brown’s pet instrument for the +regeneration of society. Here it is. A monster petition praying that the +holding back from the laborer of any portion of the net value produced +by his labor be declared a felony. That is all.” + +Erskine nudged Sir Charles, who said hastily, “Thank you, but I had +rather not sign anything.” + +“A baronet sign such a petition!” exclaimed Trefusis. “I did not think +of asking you. I only show it to you as an interesting historical +document, containing the autographs of a few artists and poets. There is +Donovan Brown’s for example. It was he who suggested the petition, which +is not likely to do much good, as the thing cannot be done in any such +fashion However, I have promised Brown to get as many signatures as I +can; so you may as well sign it, Erskine. It says nothing in blank verse +about the holiness of slaying a tyrant, but it is a step in the right +direction. You will not stick at such a trifle--unless the reviews have +frightened you. Come, your name and address.” + +Erskine shook his head. + +“Do you then only commit yourself to revolutionary sentiments when there +is a chance of winning fame as a poet by them?” + +“I will not sign, simply because I do not choose to,” said Erskine +warmly. + +“My dear fellow,” said Trefusis, almost affectionately, “if a man has a +conscience he can have no choice in matters of conviction. I have read +somewhere in your book that the man who will not shed his blood for the +liberty of his brothers is a coward and a slave. Will you not shed a +drop of ink--my ink, too--for the right of your brothers to the work +of their hands? I at first sight did not care to sign this petition, +because I would as soon petition a tiger to share his prey with me as +our rulers to relax their grip of the stolen labor they live on. But +Donovan Brown said to me, ‘You have no choice. Either you believe that +the laborer should have the fruit of his labor or you do not. If you +do, put your conviction on record, even if it should be as useless as +Pilate’s washing his hands.’ So I signed.” + +“Donovan Brown was right,” said Sir Charles. “I will sign.” And he did +so with a flourish. + +“Brown will be delighted,” said Trefusis. “I will write to him to-day +that I have got another good signature for him.” + +“Two more,” said Sir Charles. “You shall sign, Erskine; hang me if you +shan’t! It is only against rascals that run away without paying their +men their wages.” + +“Or that don’t pay them in full,” observed Trefusis, with a curious +smile. “But do not sign if you feel uncomfortable about it.” + +“If you don’t sign after me, you are a sneak, Chester,” said Sir +Charles. + +“I don’t know what it means,” said Erskine, wavering. “I don’t +understand petitions.” + +“It means what it says; you cannot be held responsible for any meaning +that is not expressed in it,” said Trefusis. “But never mind. You +mistrust me a little, I fancy, and would rather not meddle with my +petitions; but you will think better of that as you grow used to me. +Meanwhile, there is no hurry. Don’t sign yet.” + +“Nonsense! I don’t doubt your good faith,” said Erskine, hastily +disavowing suspicions which he felt but could not account for. “Here +goes!” And he signed. + +“Well done!” said Trefusis. “This will make Brown happy for the rest of +the month.” + +“It is time for us to go now,” said Erskine gloomily. + +“Look in upon me at any time; you shall be welcome,” said Trefusis. “You +need not stand upon any sort of ceremony.” + +Then they parted; Sir Charles assuring Trefusis that he had never spent +a more interesting morning, and shaking hands with him at considerable +length three times. Erskine said little until he was in the Riverside +Road with his friend, when he suddenly burst out: + +“What the devil do you mean by drinking two tumblers of such staggering +stuff at one o’clock in the day in the house of a dangerous man like +that? I am very sorry I went into the fellow’s place. I had misgivings +about it, and they have been fully borne out.” + +“How so?” said Sir Charles, taken aback. + +“He has overreached us. I was a deuced fool to sign that paper, and so +were you. It was for that that he invited us.” + +“Rubbish, my dear boy. It was not his paper, but Donovan Brown’s.” + +“I doubt it. Most likely he talked Brown into signing it just as he +talked us. I tell you his ways are all crooked, like his ideas. Did you +hear how he lied about Miss Lindsay?” + +“Oh, you were mistaken about that. He does not care two straws for her +or for anyone.” + +“Well, if you are satisfied, I am not. You would not be in such high +spirits over it if you had taken as little wine as I.” + +“Pshaw! you’re too ridiculous. It was capital wine. Do you mean to say I +am drunk?” + +“No. But you would not have signed if you had not taken that second +goblet. If you had not forced me--I could not get out of it after +you set the example--I would have seen him d--d sooner than have had +anything to do with his petition.” + +“I don’t see what harm can come of it,” said Sir Charles, braving out +some secret disquietude. + +“I will never go into his house again,” said Erskine moodily. “We were +just like two flies in a spider’s web.” + +Meanwhile, Trefusis was fulfilling his promise to write to Donovan +Brown. + +“Sallust’s House. + +“Dear Brown: I have spent the forenoon angling for a couple of very +young fish, and have landed them with more trouble than they are worth. +One has gaudy scales: he is a baronet, and an amateur artist, save the +mark. All my arguments and my little museum of photographs were lost on +him; but when I mentioned your name, and promised him an introduction to +you, he gorged the bait greedily. He was half drunk when he signed; and +I should not have let him touch the paper if I had not convinced myself +beforehand that he means well, and that my wine had only freed his +natural generosity from his conventional cowardice and prejudice. +We must get his name published in as many journals as possible as a +signatory to the great petition; it will draw on others as your name +drew him. The second novice, Chichester Erskine, is a young poet. +He will not be of much use to us, though he is a devoted champion of +liberty in blank verse, and dedicates his works to Mazzini, etc. He +signed reluctantly. All this hesitation is the uncertainty that comes +of ignorance; they have not found out the truth for themselves, and are +afraid to trust me, matters having come to the pass at which no man +dares trust his fellow. + +“I have met a pretty young lady here who might serve you as a model for +Hypatia. She is crammed with all the prejudices of the peerage, but I am +effecting a cure. I have set my heart on marrying her to Erskine, who, +thinking that I am making love to her on my own account, is jealous. The +weather is pleasant here, and I am having a merry life of it, but I find +myself too idle. Etc., etc., etc.” + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +One sunny forenoon, as Agatha sat reading on the doorstep of the +conservatory, the shadow of her parasol deepened, and she, looking up +for something denser than the silk of it, saw Trefusis. + +“Oh!” + +She offered him no further greeting, having fallen in with his habit +of dispensing, as far as possible, with salutations and ceremonies. +He seemed in no hurry to speak, and so, after a pause, she began, “Sir +Charles--” + +“Is gone to town,” he said. “Erskine is out on his bicycle. Lady Brandon +and Miss Lindsay have gone to the village in the wagonette, and you have +come out here to enjoy the summer sun and read rubbish. I know all your +news already.” + +“You are very clever, and, as usual, wrong. Sir Charles has not gone to +town. He has only gone to the railway station for some papers; he will +be back for luncheon. How do you know so much of our affairs?” + +“I was on the roof of my house with a field-glass. I saw you come out +and sit down here. Then Sir Charles passed. Then Erskine. Then Lady +Brandon, driving with great energy, and presenting a remarkable contrast +to the disdainful repose of Gertrude.” + +“Gertrude! I like your cheek.” + +“You mean that you dislike my presumption.” + +“No, I think cheek a more expressive word than presumption; and I mean +that I like it--that it amuses me.” + +“Really! What are you reading?” + +“Rubbish, you said just now. A novel.” + +“That is, a lying story of two people who never existed, and who would +have acted very differently if they had existed.” + +“Just so.” + +“Could you not imagine something just as amusing for yourself?” + +“Perhaps so; but it would be too much trouble. Besides, cooking takes +away one’s appetite for eating. I should not relish stories of my own +confection.” + +“Which volume are you at?” + +“The third.” + +“Then the hero and heroine are on the point of being united?” + +“I really don’t know. This is one of your clever novels. I wish the +characters would not talk so much.” + +“No matter. Two of them are in love with one another, are they not?” + +“Yes. It would not be a novel without that.” + +“Do you believe, in your secret soul, Agatha--I take the liberty of +using your Christian name because I wish to be very solemn--do you +really believe that any human being was ever unselfish enough to love +another in the story-book fashion?” + +“Of course. At least I suppose so. I have never thought much about it.” + +“I doubt it. My own belief is that no latter-day man has any faith in +the thoroughness or permanence of his affection for his mate. Yet he +does not doubt the sincerity of her professions, and he conceals the +hollowness of his own from her, partly because he is ashamed of it, +and partly out of pity for her. And she, on the other side, is playing +exactly the same comedy.” + +“I believe that is what men do, but not women.” + +“Indeed! Pray do you remember pretending to be very much in love with me +once when--” + +Agatha reddened and placed her palm on the step as if about to spring +up. But she checked herself and said: “Stop, Mr. Trefusis. If you talk +about that I shall go away. I wonder at you! Have you no taste?’, + +“None whatever. And as I was the aggrieved party on that--stay, don’t +go. I will never allude to it again. I am growing afraid of you. You +used to be afraid of me.” + +“Yes; and you used to bully me. You have a habit of bullying women who +are weak enough to fear you. You are a great deal cleverer than I, and +know much more, I dare say; but I am not in the least afraid of you +now.” + +“You have no reason to be, and never had any. Henrietta, if she were +alive, could testify that it there is a defect in my relations with +women, it arises from my excessive amiability. I could not refuse a +woman anything she had set her heart upon--except my hand in marriage. +As long as your sex are content to stop short of that they can do as +they please with me.” + +“How cruel! I thought you were nearly engaged to Gertrude.” + +“The usual interpretation of a friendship between a man and a woman! I +have never thought of such a thing; and I am sure she never has. We are +not half so intimate as you and Sir Charles.” + +“Oh, Sir Charles is married. And I advise you to get married if you wish +to avoid creating misunderstandings by your friendships.” + +Trefusis was struck. Instead of answering, he stood, after one startled +glance at her, looking intently at the knuckle of his forefinger. + +“Do take pity on our poor sex,” said Agatha maliciously. “You are so +rich, and so very clever, and really so nice looking that you ought to +share yourself with somebody. Gertrude would be only too happy.” + +Trefusis grinned and shook his head, slowly but emphatically. + +“I suppose _I_ should have no chance,” continued Agatha pathetically. + +“I should be delighted, of course,” he replied with simulated confusion, +but with a lurking gleam in his eye that might have checked her, had she +noticed it. + +“Do marry me, Mr. Trefusis,” she pleaded, clasping her hands in a +rapture of mischievous raillery. “Pray do.” + +“Thank you,” said Trefusis determinedly; “I will.” + +“I am very sure you shan’t,” said Agatha, after an incredulous pause, +springing up and gathering her skirt as if to run away. “You do not +suppose I was in earnest, do you?” + +“Undoubtedly I do. _I_ am in earnest.” + +Agatha hesitated, uncertain whether he might not be playing with her as +she had just been playing with him. “Take care,” she said. “I may +change my mind and be in earnest, too; and then how will you feel, Mr. +Trefusis?” + +“I think, under our altered relations, you had better call me Sidney.” + +“I think we had better drop the joke. It was in rather bad taste, and I +should not have made it, perhaps.” + +“It would be an execrable joke; therefore I have no intention of +regarding it as one. You shall be held to your offer, Agatha. Are you in +love with me?” + +“Not in the least. Not the very smallest bit in the world. I do not know +anybody with whom I am less in love or less likely to be in love.” + +“Then you must marry me. If you were in love with me, I should run +away. My sainted Henrietta adored me, and I proved unworthy of +adoration--though I was immensely flattered.” + +“Yes; exactly! The way you treated your first wife ought to be +sufficient to warn any woman against becoming your second.” + +“Any woman who loved me, you mean. But you do not love me, and if I run +away you will have the advantage of being rid of me. Our settlements can +be drawn so as to secure you half my fortune in such an event.” + +“You will never have a chance of running away from me.” + +“I shall not want to. I am not so squeamish as I was. No; I do not think +I shall run away from you.” + +“I do not think so either.” + +“Well, when shall we be married?” + +“Never,” said Agatha, and fled. But before she had gone a step he caught +her. + +“Don’t,” she said breathlessly. “Take your arm away. How dare you?” + +He released her and shut the door of the conservatory. “Now,” he said, +“if you want to run away you will have to run in the open.” + +“You are very impertinent. Let me go in immediately.” + +“Do you want me to beg you to marry me after you have offered to do it +freely?” + +“But I was only joking; I don’t care for you,” she said, looking round +for an outlet. + +“Agatha,” he said, with grim patience, “half an hour ago I had no more +intention of marrying you than of making a voyage to the moon. But when +you made the suggestion I felt all its force in an instant, and now +nothing will satisfy me but your keeping your word. Of all the women I +know, you are the only one not quite a fool.” + +“I should be a great fool if--” + +“If you married me, you were going to say; but I don’t think so. I am +the only man, not quite an ass, of your acquaintance. I know my value, +and yours. And I loved you long ago, when I had no right to.” + +Agatha frowned. “No,” she said. “There is no use in saying anything more +about it. It is out of the question.” + +“Come, don’t be vindictive. I was more sincere then than you were. But +that has nothing to do with the present. You have spent our renewed +acquaintance on the defensive against me, retorting upon me, teasing and +tempting me. Be generous for once, and say Yes with a good will.” + +“Oh, I NEVER tempted you,” cried Agatha. “I did not. It is not true.” + He said nothing, but offered his hand. “No; go away; I will not.” + He persisted, and she felt her power of resistance suddenly wane. +Terror-stricken, she said hastily, “There is not the least use in +bothering me; I will tell you nothing to-day.” + +“Promise me on your honor that you will say Yes to-morrow, and I will +leave you in peace until then.” + +“I will not.” + +“The deuce take your sex,” he said plaintively. + +“You know my mind now, and I have to stand here coquetting because +you don’t know your own. If I cared for my comfort I should remain a +bachelor.” + +“I advise you to do so,” she said, stealing backward towards the door. +“You are a very interesting widower. A wife would spoil you. Consider +the troubles of domesticity, too.” + +“I like troubles. They strengthen--Aha!” (she had snatched at the knob +of the door, and he swiftly put his hand on hers and stayed her). “Not +yet, if you please. Can you not speak out like a woman--like a man, I +mean? You may withhold a bone from Max until he stands on his hind legs +to beg for it, but you should not treat me like a dog. Say Yes frankly, +and do not keep me begging.” + +“What in the world do you want to marry me for?” + +“Because I was made to carry a house on my shoulders, and will do so. +I want to do the best I can for myself, and I shall never have such a +chance again. And I cannot help myself, and don’t know why; that is the +plain truth of the matter. You will marry someone some day.” She shook +her head. “Yes, you will. Why not marry me?” + +Agatha bit her nether lip, looked ruefully at the ground, and, after +a long pause, said reluctantly, “Very well. But mind, I think you are +acting very foolishly, and if you are disappointed afterwards, you must +not blame ME.” + +“I take the risk of my bargain,” he said, releasing her hand, and +leaning against the door as he took out his pocket diary. “You will have +to take the risk of yours, which I hope may not prove the worse of the +two. This is the seventeenth of June. What date before the twenty-fourth +of July will suit you?” + +“You mean the twenty-fourth of July next year, I presume?” + +“No; I mean this year. I am going abroad on that date, married or not, +to attend a conference at Geneva, and I want you to come with me. I will +show you a lot of places and things that you have never seen before. +It is your right to name the day, but you have no serious business to +provide for, and I have.” + +“But you don’t know all the things I shall--I should have to provide. +You had better wait until you come back from the continent.” + +“There is nothing to be provided on your part but settlements and your +trousseau. The trousseau is all nonsense; and Jansenius knows me of old +in the matter of settlements. I got married in six weeks before.” + +“Yes,” said Agatha sharply, “but I am not Henrietta.” + +“No, thank Heaven,” he assented placidly. + +Agatha was struck with remorse. “That was a vile thing for me to say,” + she said; “and for you too.” + +“Whatever is true is to the purpose, vile or not. Will you come to +Geneva on the twenty-fourth?” + +“But--I really was not thinking when I--I did not intend to say that I +would--I--” + +“I know. You will come if we are married.” + +“Yes. IF we are married.” + +“We shall be married. Do not write either to your mother or Jansenius +until I ask you.” + +“I don’t intend to. I have nothing to write about.” + +“Wretch that you are! And do not be jealous if you catch me making love +to Lady Brandon. I always do so; she expects it.” + +“You may make love to whom you please. It is no concern of mine.” + +“Here comes the wagonette with Lady Brandon and Ger--and Miss Lindsay. +I mustn’t call her Gertrude now except when you are not by. Before they +interrupt us, let me remind you of the three points we are agreed +upon. I love you. You do not love me. We are to be married before the +twenty-fourth of next month. Now I must fly to help her ladyship to +alight.” + +He hastened to the house door, at which the wagonette had just stopped. +Agatha, bewildered, and ashamed to face her friends, went in through the +conservatory, and locked herself in her room. + +Trefusis went into the library with Gertrude whilst Lady Brandon +loitered in the hall to take off her gloves and ask questions of the +servants. When she followed, she found the two standing together at the +window. Gertrude was listening to him with the patient expression she +now often wore when he talked. He was smiling, but it struck Jane that +he was not quite at ease. “I was just beginning to tell Miss Lindsay,” + he said, “of an extraordinary thing that has happened during your +absence.” + +“I know,” exclaimed Jane, with sudden conviction. “The heater in the +conservatory has cracked.” + +“Possibly,” said Trefusis; “but, if so, I have not heard of it.” + +“If it hasn’t cracked, it will,” said Jane gloomily. Then, assuming with +some effort an interest in Trefusis’s news, she added: “Well, what has +happened?” + +“I was chatting with Miss Wylie just now, when a singular idea occurred +to us. We discussed it for some time; and the upshot is that we are to +be married before the end of next month.” + +Jane reddened and stared at him; and he looked keenly back at her. +Gertrude, though unobserved, did not suffer her expression of patient +happiness to change in the least; but a greenish-white color suddenly +appeared in her face, and only gave place very slowly to her usual +complexion. + +“Do you mean to say that you are going to marry AGATHA?” said Lady +Brandon incredulously, after a pause. + +“Yes. I had no intention of doing so when I last saw you or I should +have told you.” + +“I never heard of such a thing in my life! You fell in love with one +another in five minutes, I suppose.” + +“Good Heavens, no! we are not in love with one another. Can you believe +that I would marry for such a frivolous reason? No. The subject turned +up accidentally, and the advantage of a match between us struck me +forcibly. I was fortunate enough to convert her to my opinion.” + +“Yes; she wanted a lot of pressing, I dare say,” said Jane, glancing at +Gertrude, who was smiling unmeaningly. + +“As you imply,” said Trefusis coolly, “her reluctance may have been +affected, and she only too glad to get such a charming husband. Assuming +that to be the case, she dissembled remarkably well.” + +Gertrude took off her bonnet, and left the room without speaking. + +“This is my revenge upon you for marrying Brandon,” he said then, +approaching Jane. + +“Oh, yes,” she retorted ironically. “I believe all that, of course.” + +“You have the same security for its truth as for that of all the foolish +things I confess to you. There!” He pointed to a panel of looking glass, +in which Jane’s figure was reflected at full length. + +“I don’t see anything to admire,” said Jane, looking at herself with no +great favor. “There is plenty of me, if you admire that.” + +“It is impossible to have too much of a good thing. But I must not look +any more. Though Agatha says she does not love me, I am not sure that +she would be pleased if I were to look for love from anyone else.” + +“Says she does not love you! Don’t believe her; she has taken trouble +enough to catch you.” + +“I am flattered. You caught me without any trouble, and yet you would +not have me.” + +“It is manners to wait to be asked. I think you have treated Gertrude +shamefully--I hope you won’t be offended with me for saying so. I blame +Agatha most. She is an awfully double-faced girl.” + +“How so?” said Trefusis, surprised. “What has Miss Lindsay to do with +it?” + +“You know very well.” + +“I assure you I do not. If you were speaking of yourself I could +understand you.” + +“Oh, you can get out of it cleverly, like all men; but you can’t +hoodwink me. You shouldn’t have pretended to like Gertrude when you were +really pulling a cord with Agatha. And she, too, pretending to flirt +with Sir Charles--as if he would care twopence for her!” + +Trefusis seemed a little disturbed. “I hope Miss Lindsay had no +such--but she could not.” + +“Oh, couldn’t she? You will soon see whether she had or not.” + +“You misunderstood us, Lady Brandon; Miss Lindsay knows better. +Remember, too, that this proposal of mine was quite unpremeditated. This +morning I had no tender thoughts of anyone except one whom it would be +improper to name.” + +“Oh, that is all talk. It won’t do now.” + +“I will talk no more at present. I must be off to the village to +telegraph to my solicitor. If I meet Erskine I will tell him the good +news.” + +“He will be delighted. He thought, as we all did, that you were cutting +him out with Gertrude.” + +Trefusis smiled, shook his head, and, with a glance of admiring homage +to Jane’s charms, went out. Jane was contemplating herself in the glass +when a servant begged her to come and speak to Master Charles and Miss +Fanny. She hurried upstairs to the nursery, where her boy and girl, +disputing each other’s prior right to torture the baby, had come to +blows. They were somewhat frightened, but not at all appeased, by Jane’s +entrance. She scolded, coaxed, threatened, bribed, quoted Dr. Watts, +appealed to the nurse and then insulted her, demanded of the children +whether they loved one another, whether they loved mamma, and whether +they wanted a right good whipping. At last, exasperated by her own +inability to restore order, she seized the baby, which had cried +incessantly throughout, and, declaring that it was doing it on purpose +and should have something real to cry for, gave it an exemplary +smacking, and ordered the others to bed. The boy, awed by the fate of +his infant brother, offered, by way of compromise, to be good if Miss +Wylie would come and play with him, a proposal which provoked from his +jealous mother a box on the ear that sent him howling to his cot. Then +she left the room, pausing on the threshold to remark that if she heard +another sound from them that day, they might expect the worst from her. +On descending, heated and angry, to the drawing-room, she found Agatha +there alone, looking out of window as if the landscape were especially +unsatisfactory this time. + +“Selfish little beasts!” exclaimed Jane, making a miniature whirlwind +with her skirts as she came in. “Charlie is a perfect little fiend. He +spends all his time thinking how he can annoy me. Ugh! He’s just like +his father.” + +“Thank you, my dear,” said Sir Charles from the doorway. + +Jane laughed. “I knew you were there,” she said. “Where’s Gertrude?” + +“She has gone out,” said Sir Charles. + +“Nonsense! She has only just come in from driving with me.” + +“I do not know what you mean by nonsense,” said Sir Charles, chafing. +“I saw her walking along the Riverside Road. I was in the village road, +and she did not see me. She seemed in a hurry.” + +“I met her on the stairs and spoke to her,” said Agatha, “but she didn’t +hear me.” + +“I hope she is not going to throw herself into the river,” said Jane. +Then, turning to her husband, she added: “Have you heard the news?” + +“The only news I have heard is from this paper,” said Sir Charles, +taking out a journal and flinging it on the table. “There is a paragraph +in it stating that I have joined some infernal Socialistic league, and +I am told that there is an article in the ‘Times’ on the spread of +Socialism, in which my name is mentioned. This is all due to Trefusis; +and I think he has played me a most dishonorable trick. I will tell him +so, too, when next I see him.” + +“You had better be careful what you say of him before Agatha,” said +Jane. “Oh, you need not be alarmed, Agatha; I know all about it. He told +us in the library. We went out this morning--Gertrude and I--and when we +came back we found Mr. Trefusis and Agatha talking very lovingly to one +another on the conservatory steps, newly engaged.” + +“Indeed!” said Sir Charles, disconcerted and displeased, but trying to +smile. “I may then congratulate you, Miss Wylie?” + +“You need not,” said Agatha, keeping her countenance as well as she +could. “It was only a joke. At least it came about in a jest. He has no +right to say that we are engaged.” + +“Stuff and nonsense,” said Jane. “That won’t do, Agatha. He has gone off +to telegraph to his solicitor. He is quite in earnest.” + +“I am a great fool,” said Agatha, sitting down and twisting her hands +perplexedly. “I believe I said something; but I really did not intend +to. He surprised me into speaking before I knew what I was saying. A +pretty mess I have got myself into!” + +“I am glad you have been outwitted at last,” said Jane, laughing +spitefully. “You never had any pity for me when I could not think of the +proper thing to say at a moment’s notice.” + +Agatha let the taunt pass unheeded. Her gaze wandered anxiously, and at +last settled appealingly upon Sir Charles. “What shall I do?” she said +to him. + +“Well, Miss Wylie,” he said gravely, “if you did not mean to marry him +you should not have promised. I don’t wish to be unsympathetic, and I +know that it is very hard to get rid of Trefusis when he makes up his +mind to act something out of you, but still--” + +“Never mind her,” said Jane, interrupting him. “She wants to marry +him just as badly as he wants to marry her. You would be preciously +disappointed if he cried off, Agatha; for all your interesting +reluctance.” + +“That is not so, really,” said Agatha earnestly. “I wish I had taken +time to think about it. I suppose he has told everybody by this time.” + +“May we then regard it as settled?” said Sir Charles. + +“Of course you may,” said Jane contemptuously. + +“Pray allow Miss Wylie to speak for herself, Jane. I confess I do +not understand why you are still in doubt--if you have really engaged +yourself to him.” + +“I suppose I am in for it,” said Agatha. “I feel as if there were some +fatal objection, if I could only remember what it is. I wish I had never +seen him.” + +Sir Charles was puzzled. “I do not understand ladies’ ways in these +matters,” he said. “However, as there seems to be no doubt that you and +Trefusis are engaged, I shall of course say nothing that would make it +unpleasant for him to visit here; but I must say that he has--to say +the least--been inconsiderate to me personally. I signed a paper at his +house on the implicit understanding that it was strictly private, +and now he has trumpeted it forth to the whole world, and publicly +associated my name not only with his own, but with those of persons of +whom I know nothing except that I would rather not be connected with +them in any way.” + +“What does it matter?” said Jane. “Nobody cares twopence.” + +“_I_ care,” said Sir Charles angrily. “No sensible person can accuse +me of exaggerating my own importance because I value my reputation +sufficiently to object to my approval being publicly cited in support of +a cause with which I have no sympathy.” + +“Perhaps Mr. Trefusis has had nothing to do with it,” said Agatha. “The +papers publish whatever they please, don’t they?” + +“That’s right, Agatha,” said Jane maliciously. “Don’t let anyone speak +ill of him.” + +“I am not speaking ill of him,” said Sir Charles, before Agatha could +retort. “It is a mere matter of feeling, and I should not have mentioned +it had I known the altered relations between him and Miss Wylie.” + +“Pray don’t speak of them,” said Agatha. “I have a mind to run away by +the next train.” + +Sir Charles, to change the subject, suggested a duet. + +Meanwhile Erskine, returning through the village from his morning ride, +had met Trefusis, and attempted to pass him with a nod. But Trefusis +called to him to stop, and he dismounted reluctantly. + +“Just a word to say that I am going to be married,” said Trefusis. + +“To--?” Erskine could not add Gertrude’s name. + +“To one of our friends at the Beeches. Guess to which.” + +“To Miss Lindsay, I presume.” + +“What in the fiend’s name has put it into all your heads that Miss +Lindsay and I are particularly attached to one another?” exclaimed +Trefusis. “YOU have always appeared to me to be the man for Miss +Lindsay. I am going to marry Miss Wylie.” + +“Really!” exclaimed Erskine, with a sensation of suddenly thawing after +a bitter frost. + +“Of course. And now, Erskine, you have the advantage of being a poor +man. Do not let that splendid girl marry for money. If you go further +you are likely to fare worse; and so is she.” Then he nodded and walked +away, leaving the other staring after him. + +“If he has jilted her, he is a scoundrel,” said Erskine. “I am sorry I +didn’t tell him so.” + +He mounted and rode slowly along the Riverside Road, partly suspecting +Trefusis of some mystification, but inclining to believe in him, and, +in any case, to take his advice as to Gertrude. The conversation he had +overheard in the avenue still perplexed him. He could not reconcile it +with Trefusis’s profession of disinterestedness towards her. + +His bicycle carried him noiselessly on its india-rubber tires to the +place by which the hemlock grew and there he saw Gertrude sitting on the +low earthen wall that separated the field from the road. Her straw bag, +with her scissors in it, lay beside her. Her fingers were interlaced, +and her hands rested, palms downwards, on her knee. Her expression was +rather vacant, and so little suggestive of any serious emotion that +Erskine laughed as he alighted close to her. + +“Are you tired?” he said. + +“No,” she replied, not startled, and smiling mechanically--an unusual +condescension on her part. + +“Indulging in a day-dream?” + +“No.” She moved a little to one side and concealed the basket with her +dress. + +He began to fear that something was wrong. “Is it possible that you have +ventured among those poisonous plants again?” he said. “Are you ill?” + +“Not at all,” she replied, rousing herself a little. “Your solicitude is +quite thrown away. I am perfectly well.” + +“I beg your pardon,” he said, snubbed. “I thought--Don’t you think it +dangerous to sit on that damp wall?” + +“It is not damp. It is crumbling into dust with dryness.” An unnatural +laugh, with which she concluded, intensified his uneasiness. + +He began a sentence, stopped, and to gain time to recover himself, +placed his bicycle in the opposite ditch; a proceeding which she +witnessed with impatience, as it indicated his intention to stay and +talk. She, however, was the first to speak; and she did so with a +callousness that shocked him. + +“Have you heard the news?” + +“What news?” + +“About Mr. Trefusis and Agatha. They are engaged.” + +“So Trefusis told me. I met him just now in the village. I was very glad +to hear it.” + +“Of course.” + +“But I had a special reason for being glad.” + +“Indeed?” + +“I was desperately afraid, before he told me the truth, that he had +other views--views that might have proved fatal to my dearest hopes.” + +Gertrude frowned at him, and the frown roused him to brave her. He lost +his self-command, already shaken by her strange behavior. “You know that +I love you, Miss Lindsay,” he said. “It may not be a perfect love, but, +humanly speaking, it is a true one. I almost told you so that day when +we were in the billiard room together; and I did a very dishonorable +thing the same evening. When you were speaking to Trefusis in the avenue +I was close to you, and I listened.” + +“Then you heard him,” cried Gertrude vehemently. “You heard him swear +that he was in earnest.” + +“Yes,” said Erskine, trembling, “and I thought he meant in earnest in +loving you. You can hardly blame me for that: I was in love myself; and +love is blind and jealous. I never hoped again until he told me that he +was to be married to Miss Wylie. May I speak to you, now that I know I +was mistaken, or that you have changed your mind?” + +“Or that he has changed his mind,” said Gertrude scornfully. + +Erskine, with a new anxiety for her sake, checked himself. Her dignity +was dear to him, and he saw that her disappointment had made her +reckless of it. “Do not say anything to me now, Miss Lindsay, lest--” + +“What have I said? What have I to say?” + +“Nothing, except on my own affairs. I love you dearly.” + +She made an impatient movement, as if that were a very insignificant +matter. + +“You believe me, I hope,” he said, timidly. + +Gertrude made an effort to recover her habitual ladylike reserve, but +her energy failed before she had done more than raise her head. She +relapsed into her listless attitude, and made a faint gesture of +intolerance. + +“You cannot be quite indifferent to being loved,” he said, becoming more +nervous and more urgent. “Your existence constitutes all my happiness. +I offer you my services and devotion. I do not ask any reward.” (He was +now speaking very quickly and almost inaudibly.) “You may accept my love +without returning it. I do not want--seek to make a bargain. If you need +a friend you may be able to rely on me more confidently because you know +I love you.” + +“Oh, you think so,” said Gertrude, interrupting him; “but you will get +over it. I am not the sort of person that men fall in love with. You +will soon change your mind.” + +“Not the sort! Oh, how little you know!” he said, becoming eloquent. +“I have had plenty of time to change, but I am as fixed as ever. If you +doubt, wait and try me. But do not be rough with me. You pain me +more than you can imagine when you are hasty or indifferent. I am in +earnest.” + +“Ha, ha! That is easily said.” + +“Not by me. I change in my judgment of other people according to my +humor, but I believe steadfastly in your goodness and beauty--as if you +were an angel. I am in earnest in my love for you as I am in earnest for +my own life, which can only be perfected by your aid and influence.” + +“You are greatly mistaken if you suppose that I am an angel.” + +“You are wrong to mistrust yourself; but it is what I owe to you and not +what I expect from you that I try to express by speaking of you as an +angel. I know that you are not an angel to yourself. But you are to me.” + +She sat stubbornly silent. + +“I will not press you for an answer now. I am content that you know my +mind at last. Shall we return together?” + +She looked round slowly at the hemlock, and from that to the river. +Then she took up her basket, rose, and prepared to go, as if under +compulsion. + +“Do you want any more hemlock?” he said. “If so, I will pluck some for +you.” + +“I wish you would let me alone,” she said, with sudden anger. She added, +a little ashamed of herself, “I have a headache.” + +“I am very sorry,” he said, crestfallen. + +“It is only that I do not wish to be spoken to. It hurts my head to +listen.” + +He meekly took his bicycle from the ditch and wheeled it along beside +her to the Beeches without another word. They went in through the +conservatory, and parted in the dining-room. Before leaving him she said +with some remorse, “I did not mean to be rude, Mr. Erskine.” + +He flushed, murmured something, and attempted to kiss her hand. But she +snatched it away and went out quickly. He was stung by this repulse, and +stood mortifying himself by thinking of it until he was disturbed by the +entrance of a maid-servant. Learning from her that Sir Charles was in +the billiard room, he joined him there, and asked him carelessly if he +had heard the news. + +“About Miss Wylie?” said Sir Charles. “Yes, I should think so. I believe +the whole country knows it, though they have not been engaged three +hours. Have you seen these?” And he pushed a couple of newspapers across +the table. + +Erskine had to make several efforts before he could read. “You were a +fool to sign that document,” he said. “I told you so at the time.” + +“I relied on the fellow being a gentleman,” said Sir Charles warmly. +“I do not see that I was a fool. I see that he is a cad, and but for +this business of Miss Wylie’s I would let him know my opinion. Let me +tell you, Chester, that he has played fast and loose with Miss Lindsay. +There is a deuce of a row upstairs. She has just told Jane that she must +go home at once; Miss Wylie declares that she will have nothing to do +with Trefusis if Miss Lindsay has a prior claim to him, and Jane is +annoyed at his admiring anybody except herself. It serves me right; my +instinct warned me against the fellow from the first.” Just then +luncheon was announced. Gertrude did not come down. Agatha was silent +and moody. Jane tried to make Erskine describe his walk with Gertrude, +but he baffled her curiosity by omitting from his account everything +except its commonplaces. + +“I think her conduct very strange,” said Jane. “She insists on going to +town by the four o’clock train. I consider that it’s not polite to me, +although she always made a point of her perfect manners. I never heard +of such a thing!” + +When they had risen from the table, they went together to the +drawing-room. They had hardly arrived there when Trefusis was announced, +and he was in their presence before they had time to conceal the +expression of consternation his name brought into their faces. + +“I have come to say good-bye,” he said. “I find that I must go to +town by the four o’clock train to push my arrangements in person; the +telegrams I have received breathe nothing but delay. Have you seen the +‘Times’?” + +“I have indeed,” said Sir Charles, emphatically. + +“You are in some other paper too, and will be in half-a-dozen more in +the course of the next fortnight. Men who have committed themselves to +an opinion are always in trouble with the newspapers; some because they +cannot get into them, others because they cannot keep out. If you had +put forward a thundering revolutionary manifesto, not a daily paper +would have dared allude to it: there is no cowardice like Fleet Street +cowardice! I must run off; I have much to do before I start, and it is +getting on for three. Good-bye, Lady Brandon, and everybody.” + +He shook Jane’s hand, dealt nods to the rest rapidly, making no +distinction in favor of Agatha, and hurried away. They stared after him +for a moment and then Erskine ran out and went downstairs two steps at a +time. Nevertheless he had to run as far as the avenue before he overtook +his man. + +“Trefusis,” he said breathlessly, “you must not go by the four o’clock +train.” + +“Why not?” + +“Miss Lindsay is going to town by it.” + +“So much the better, my dear boy; so much the better. You are not +jealous of me now, are you?” + +“Look here, Trefusis. I don’t know and I don’t ask what there has been +between you and Miss Lindsay, but your engagement has quite upset her, +and she is running away to London in consequence. If she hears that you +are going by the same train she will wait until to-morrow, and I believe +the delay would be very disagreeable. Will you inflict that additional +pain upon her?” + +Trefusis, evidently concerned, looking doubtfully at Erskine, and +pondered for a moment. “I think you are on a wrong scent about this,” + he said. “My relations with Miss Lindsay were not of a sentimental kind. +Have you said anything to her--on your own account, I mean?” + +“I have spoken to her on both accounts, and I know from her own lips +that I am right.” + +Trefusis uttered a low whistle. + +“It is not the first time I have had the evidence of my senses in the +matter,” said Erskine significantly. “Pray think of it seriously, +Trefusis. Forgive my telling you frankly that nothing but your own utter +want of feeling could excuse you for the way in which you have acted +towards her.” + +Trefusis smiled. “Forgive me in turn for my inquisitiveness,” he said. +“What does she say to your suit?” + +Erskine hesitated, showing by his manner that he thought Trefusis had no +right to ask the question. “She says nothing,” he answered. + +“Hm!” said Trefusis. “Well, you may rely on me as to the train. There is +my hand upon it.” + +“Thank you,” said Erskine fervently. They shook hands and parted, +Trefusis walking away with a grin suggestive of anything but good faith. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +Gertrude, unaware of the extent to which she had already betrayed her +disappointment, believed that anxiety for her father’s health, which she +alleged as the motive of her sudden departure, was an excuse plausible +enough to blind her friends to her overpowering reluctance to speak to +Agatha or endure her presence; to her fierce shrinking from the sort of +pity usually accorded to a jilted woman; and, above all, to her dread +of meeting Trefusis. She had for some time past thought of him as an +upright and perfect man deeply interested in her. Yet, comparatively +liberal as her education had been, she had no idea of any interest +of man in woman existing apart from a desire to marry. He had, in his +serious moments, striven to make her sensible of the baseness he saw in +her worldliness, flattering her by his apparent conviction--which +she shared--that she was capable of a higher life. Almost in the same +breath, a strain of gallantry which was incorrigible in him, and to +which his humor and his tenderness to women whom he liked gave variety +and charm, would supervene upon his seriousness with a rapidity which +her far less flexible temperament could not follow. Hence she, thinking +him still in earnest when he had swerved into florid romance, had been +dangerously misled. He had no conscientious scruples in his love-making, +because he was unaccustomed to consider himself as likely to inspire +love in women; and Gertrude did not know that her beauty gave to an hour +spent alone with her a transient charm which few men of imagination and +address could resist. She, who had lived in the marriage market since +she had left school, looked upon love-making as the most serious +business of life. To him it was only a pleasant sort of trifling, +enhanced by a dash of sadness in the reflection that it meant so little. + +Of the ceremonies attending her departure, the one that cost her most +was the kiss she felt bound to offer Agatha. She had been jealous of her +at college, where she had esteemed herself the better bred of the two; +but that opinion had hardly consoled her for Agatha’s superior quickness +of wit, dexterity of hand, audacity, aptness of resource, capacity for +forming or following intricate associations of ideas, and consequent +power to dazzle others. Her jealousy of these qualities was now barbed +by the knowledge that they were much nearer akin than her own to those +of Trefusis. It mattered little to her how she appeared to herself in +comparison with Agatha. But it mattered the whole world (she thought) +that she must appear to Trefusis so slow, stiff, cold, and studied, and +that she had no means to make him understand that she was not really so. +For she would not admit the justice of impressions made by what she did +not intend to do, however habitually she did it. She had a theory that +she was not herself, but what she would have liked to be. As to the one +quality in which she had always felt superior to Agatha, and which she +called “good breeding,” Trefusis had so far destroyed her conceit in +that, that she was beginning to doubt whether it was not her cardinal +defect. + +She could not bring herself to utter a word as she embraced her +schoolfellow; and Agatha was tongue-tied too. But there was much +remorseful tenderness in the feelings that choked them. Their silence +would have been awkward but for the loquacity of Jane, who talked enough +for all three. Sir Charles was without, in the trap, waiting to drive +Gertrude to the station. Erskine intercepted her in the hall as she +passed out, told her that he should be desolate when she was gone, and +begged her to remember him, a simple petition which moved her a little, +and caused her to note that his dark eyes had a pleading eloquence which +she had observed before in the kangaroos at the Zoological Society’s +gardens. + +On the way to the train Sir Charles worried the horse in order to be +excused from conversation on the sore subject of his guest’s sudden +departure. He had made a few remarks on the skittishness of young +ponies, and on the weather, and that was all until they reached the +station, a pretty building standing in the open country, with a view of +the river from the platform. There were two flies waiting, two porters, +a bookstall, and a refreshment room with a neglected beauty pining +behind the bar. Sir Charles waited in the booking office to purchase a +ticket for Gertrude, who went through to the platform. The first person +she saw there was Trefusis, close beside her. + +“I am going to town by this train, Gertrude,” he said quickly. “Let +me take charge of you. I have something to say, for I hear that some +mischief has been made between us which must be stopped at once. You--” + +Just then Sir Charles came out, and stood amazed to see them in +conversation. + +“It happens that I am going by this train,” said Trefusis. “I will see +after Miss Lindsay.” + +“Miss Lindsay has her maid with her,” said Sir Charles, almost +stammering, and looking at Gertrude, whose expression was inscrutable. + +“We can get into the Pullman car,” said Trefusis. “There we shall be as +private as in a corner of a crowded drawing-room. I may travel with you, +may I not?” he said, seeing Sir Charles’s disturbed look, and turning to +her for express permission. + +She felt that to deny him would be to throw away her last chance of +happiness. Nevertheless she resolved to do it, though she should die +of grief on the way to London. As she raised her head to forbid him the +more emphatically, she met his gaze, which was grave and expectant. For +an instant she lost her presence of mind, and in that instant said, +“Yes. I shall be very glad.” + +“Well, if that is the case,” said Sir Charles, in the tone of one whose +sympathy had been alienated by an unpardonable outrage, “there can +be no use in my waiting. I leave you in the hands of Mr. Trefusis. +Good-bye, Miss Lindsay.” + +Gertrude winced. Unkindness from a man usually kind proved hard to bear +at parting. She was offering him her hand in silence when Trefusis said: + +“Wait and see us off. If we chance to be killed on the journey--which +is always probable on an English railway--you will reproach yourself +afterwards if you do not see the last of us. Here is the train; it will +not delay you a minute. Tell Erskine that you saw me here; that I have +not forgotten my promise, and that he may rely on me. Get in at this +end, Miss Lindsay.” + +“My maid,” said Gertrude hesitating; for she had not intended to travel +so expensively. “She--” + +“She comes with us to take care of me; I have tickets for everybody,” + said Trefusis, handing the woman in. + +“But--” + +“Take your seats, please,” said the guard. “Going by the train, sir?” + +“Good-bye, Sir Charles. Give my love to Lady Brandon, and Agatha, and +the dear children; and thanks so much for a very pleasant--” Here the +train moved off, and Sir Charles, melting, smiled and waved his hat +until he caught sight of Trefusis looking back at him with a grin which +seemed, under the circumstances, so Satanic, that he stopped as if +petrified in the midst of his gesticulations, and stood with his arm out +like a semaphore. + +The drive home restored him somewhat, but he was still full of +his surprise when he rejoined Agatha, his wife, and Erskine in the +drawing-room at the Beeches. The moment he entered, he said without +preface, “She has gone off with Trefusis.” + +Erskine, who had been reading, started up, clutching his book as if +about to hurl it at someone, and cried, “Was he at the train?” + +“Yes, and has gone to town by it.” + +“Then,” said Erskine, flinging the book violently on the floor, “he is a +scoundrel and a liar.” + +“What is the matter?” said Agatha rising, whilst Jane stared +open-mouthed at him. + +“I beg your pardon, Miss Wylie, I forgot you. He pledged me his honor +that he would not go by that train. I will.” He hurried from the room. +Sir Charles rushed after him, and overtook him at the foot of the +stairs. + +“Where are you going? What do you want to do?” + +“I will follow the train and catch it at the next station. I can do it +on my bicycle.” + +“Nonsense! you’re mad. They have thirty-five minutes start; and the +train travels forty-five miles an hour.” + +Erskine sat down on the stairs and gazed blankly at the opposite wall. + +“You must have mistaken him,” said Sir Charles. “He told me to tell you +that he had not forgotten his promise, and that you may rely on him.” + +“What is the matter?” said Agatha, coming down, followed by Lady +Brandon. + +“Miss Wylie,” said Erskine, springing up, “he gave me his word that he +would not go by that train when I told him Miss Lindsay was going by +it. He has broken his word and seized the opportunity I was mad and +credulous enough to tell him of. If I had been in your place, Brandon, I +would have strangled him or thrown him under the wheels sooner than let +him go. He has shown himself in this as in everything else, a cheat, a +conspirator, a man of crooked ways, shifts, tricks, lying sophistries, +heartless selfishness, cruel cynicism--” He stopped to catch his breath, +and Sir Charles interposed a remonstrance. + +“You are exciting yourself about nothing, Chester. They are in a +Pullman, with her maid and plenty of people; and she expressly gave him +leave to go with her. He asked her the question flatly before my face, +and I must say I thought it a strange thing for her to consent to. +However, she did consent, and of course I was not in a position to +prevent him from going to London if he pleased. Don’t let us have a +scene, old man. It can’t be helped.” + +“I am very sorry,” said Erskine, hanging his head. “I did not mean to +make a scene. I beg your pardon.” + +He went away to his room without another word. Sir Charles followed and +attempted to console him, but Erskine caught his hand, and asked to be +left to himself. So Sir Charles returned to the drawing-room, where his +wife, at a loss for once, hardly ventured to remark that she had never +heard of such a thing in her life. + +Agatha kept silence. She had long ago come unconsciously to the +conclusion that Trefusis and she were the only members of the party at +the Beeches who had much common-sense, and this made her slow to +believe that he could be in the wrong and Erskine in the right in any +misunderstanding between them. She had a slovenly way of summing up +as “asses” people whose habits of thought differed from hers. Of all +varieties of man, the minor poet realized her conception of the human +ass most completely, and Erskine, though a very nice fellow indeed, +thoroughly good and gentlemanly, in her opinion, was yet a minor poet, +and therefore a pronounced ass. Trefusis, on the contrary, was the last +man of her acquaintance whom she would have thought of as a very nice +fellow or a virtuous gentleman; but he was not an ass, although he +was obstinate in his Socialistic fads. She had indeed suspected him of +weakness almost asinine with respect to Gertrude, but then all men were +asses in their dealings with women, and since he had transferred his +weakness to her own account it no longer seemed to need justification. +And now, as her concern for Erskine, whom she pitied, wore off, she +began to resent Trefusis’s journey with Gertrude as an attack on her +recently acquired monopoly of him. There was an air of aristocratic +pride about Gertrude which Agatha had formerly envied, and which +she still feared Trefusis might mistake for an index of dignity and +refinement. Agatha did not believe that her resentment was the common +feeling called jealousy, for she still deemed herself unique, but it +gave her a sense of meanness that did not improve her spirits. + +The dinner was dull. Lady Brandon spoke in an undertone, as if someone +lay dead in the next room. Erskine was depressed by the consciousness of +having lost his head and acted foolishly in the afternoon. Sir Charles +did not pretend to ignore the suspense they were all in pending +intelligence of the journey to London; he ate and drank and said +nothing. Agatha, disgusted with herself and with Gertrude, and undecided +whether to be disgusted with Trefusis or to trust him affectionately, +followed the example of her host. After dinner she accompanied him in +a series of songs by Schubert. This proved an aggravation instead of +a relief. Sir Charles, excelling in the expression of melancholy, +preferred songs of that character; and as his musical ideas, like those +of most Englishmen, were founded on what he had heard in church in his +childhood, his style was oppressively monotonous. Agatha took the first +excuse that presented itself to leave the piano. Sir Charles felt that +his performance had been a failure, and remarked, after a cough or two, +that he had caught a touch of cold returning from the station. Erskine +sat on a sofa with his head drooping, and his palms joined and hanging +downward between his knees. Agatha stood at the window, looking at the +late summer afterglow. Jane yawned, and presently broke the silence. + +“You look exactly as you used at school, Agatha. I could almost fancy us +back again in Number Six.” + +Agatha shook her head. + +“Do I ever look like that--like myself, as I used to be?” + +“Never,” said Agatha emphatically, turning and surveying the figure of +which Miss Carpenter had been the unripe antecedent. + +“But why?” said Jane querulously. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I am not +so changed.” + +“You have become an exceedingly fine woman, Jane,” said Agatha gravely, +and then, without knowing why, turned her attentive gaze upon Sir +Charles, who bore it uneasily, and left the room. A minute later he +returned with two buff envelopes in his hand. + +“A telegram for you, Miss Wylie, and one for Chester.” Erskine started +up, white with vague fears. Agatha’s color went, and came again with +increased richness as she read: + +“I have arrived safe and ridiculously happy. Read a thousand things +between the lines. I will write tomorrow. Good night.” + +“You may read it,” said Agatha, handing it to Jane. + +“Very pretty,” said Jane. “A shilling’s worth of attention--exactly +twenty words! He may well call himself an economist.” + +Suddenly a crowing laugh from Erskine caused them to turn and stare at +him. “What nonsense!” he said, blushing. “What a fellow he is! I don’t +attach the slightest importance to this.” + +Agatha took a corner of his telegram and pulled it gently. + +“No, no,” he said, holding it tightly. “It is too absurd. I don’t think +I ought--” + +Agatha gave a decisive pull, and read the message aloud. It was from +Trefusis, thus: + +“I forgive your thoughts since Brandon’s return. Write her to-night, +and follow your letter to receive an affirmative answer in person. I +promised that you might rely on me. She loves you.” + +“I never heard of such a thing in my life,” said Jane. “Never!” + +“He is certainly a most unaccountable man,” said Sir Charles. + +“I am glad, for my own sake, that he is not so black as he is painted,” + said Agatha. “You may believe every word of it, Mr. Erskine. Be sure to +do as he tells you. He is quite certain to be right.” + +“Pooh!” said Erskine, crumpling the telegram and thrusting it into his +pocket as if it were not worth a second thought. Presently he slipped +away, and did not reappear. When they were about to retire, Sir Charles +asked a servant where he was. + +“In the library, Sir Charles; writing.” + +They looked significantly at one another and went to bed without +disturbing him. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +When Gertrude found herself beside Trefusis in the Pullman, she wondered +how she came to be travelling with him against her resolution, if not +against her will. In the presence of two women scrutinizing her as if +they suspected her of being there with no good purpose, a male +passenger admiring her a little further off, her maid reading Trefusis’s +newspapers just out of earshot, an uninterested country gentleman +looking glumly out of window, a city man preoccupied with the +“Economist,” and a polite lady who refrained from staring but not from +observing, she felt that she must not make a scene; yet she knew he had +not come there to hold an ordinary conversation. Her doubt did not last +long. He began promptly, and went to the point at once. + +“What do you think of this engagement of mine?” + +This was more than she could bear calmly. “What is it to me?” she said +indignantly. “I have nothing to do with it.” + +“Nothing! You are a cold friend to me then. I thought you one of the +surest I possessed.” + +She moved as if about to look at him, but checked herself, closed her +lips, and fixed her eyes on the vacant seat before her. The reproach he +deserved was beyond her power of expression. + +“I cling to that conviction still, in spite of Miss Lindsay’s +indifference to my affairs. But I confess I hardly know how to bring you +into sympathy with me in this matter. In the first place, you have never +been married, I have. In the next, you are much younger than I, in more +respects than that of years. Very likely half your ideas on the subject +are derived from fictions in which happy results are tacked on to +conditions very ill-calculated to produce them--which in real life +hardly ever do produce them. If our friendship were a chapter in a +novel, what would be the upshot of it? Why, I should marry you, or you +break your heart at my treachery.” + +Gertrude moved her eyes as if she had some intention of taking to +flight. + +“But our relations being those of real life--far sweeter, after all--I +never dreamed of marrying you, having gained and enjoyed your friendship +without that eye to business which our nineteenth century keeps open +even whilst it sleeps. You, being equally disinterested in your regard +for me, do not think of breaking your heart, but you are, I suppose, a +little hurt at my apparently meditating and resolving on such a serious +step as marriage with Agatha without confiding my intention to you. And +you punish me by telling me that you have nothing to do with it--that it +is nothing to you. But I never meditated the step, and so had nothing to +conceal from you. It was conceived and executed in less than a minute. +Although my first marriage was a silly love match and a failure, I have +always admitted to myself that I should marry again. A bachelor is a man +who shirks responsibilities and duties; I seek them, and consider it +my duty, with my monstrous superfluity of means, not to let the +individualists outbreed me. Still, I was in no hurry, having other +things to occupy me, and being fond of my bachelor freedom, and doubtful +sometimes whether I had any right to bring more idlers into the world +for the workers to feed. Then came the usual difficulty about the lady. +I did not want a helpmeet; I can help myself. Nor did I expect to be +loved devotedly, for the race has not yet evolved a man lovable on +thorough acquaintance; even my self-love is neither thorough nor +constant. I wanted a genial partner for domestic business, and Agatha +struck me quite suddenly as being the nearest approach to what I desired +that I was likely to find in the marriage market, where it is extremely +hard to suit oneself, and where the likeliest bargains are apt to be +snapped up by others if one hesitates too long in the hope of finding +something better. I admire Agatha’s courage and capability, and believe +I shall be able to make her like me, and that the attachment so begun +may turn into as close a union as is either healthy or necessary between +two separate individuals. I may mistake her character, for I do not know +her as I know you, and have scarcely enough faith in her as yet to tell +her such things as I have told you. Still, there is a consoling dash of +romance in the transaction. Agatha has charm. Do you not think so?” + +Gertrude’s emotion was gone. She replied with cool scorn, “Very romantic +indeed. She is very fortunate.” + +Trefusis half laughed, half sighed with relief to find her so +self-possessed. “It sounds like--and indeed is--the selfish calculation +of a disilluded widower. You would not value such an offer, or envy the +recipient of it?” + +“No,” said Gertrude with quiet contempt. + +“Yet there is some calculation behind every such offer. We marry to +satisfy our needs, and the more reasonable our needs are, the more +likely are we to get them satisfied. I see you are disgusted with me; +I feared as much. You are the sort of woman to admit no excuse for my +marriage except love--pure emotional love, blindfolding reason.” + +“I really do not concern myself--” + +“Do not say so, Gertrude. I watch every step you take with anxiety; and +I do not believe you are indifferent to the worthiness of my conduct. +Believe me, love is an overrated passion; it would be irremediably +discredited but that young people, and the romancers who live upon their +follies, have a perpetual interest in rehabilitating it. No relation +involving divided duties and continual intercourse between two people +can subsist permanently on love alone. Yet love is not to be despised +when it comes from a fine nature. There is a man who loves you exactly +as you think I ought to love Agatha--and as I don’t love her.” + +Gertrude’s emotion stirred again, and her color rose. “You have no right +to say these things now,” she said. + +“Why may I not plead the cause of another? I speak of Erskine.” Her +color vanished, and he continued, “I want you to marry him. When you are +married you will understand me better, and our friendship, shaken just +now, will be deepened; for I dare assure you, now that you can no longer +misunderstand me, that no living woman is dearer to me than you. So much +for the inevitable selfish reason. Erskine is a poor man, and in +his comfortable poverty--save the mark--lies your salvation from the +baseness of marrying for wealth and position; a baseness of which women +of your class stand in constant peril. They court it; you must shun it. +The man is honorable and loves you; he is young, healthy, and suitable. +What more do you think the world has to offer you?” + +“Much more, I hope. Very much more.” + +“I fear that the names I give things are not romantic enough. He is a +poet. Perhaps he would be a hero if it were possible for a man to be a +hero in this nineteenth century, which will be infamous in history as +a time when the greatest advances in the power of man over nature only +served to sharpen his greed and make famine its avowed minister. Erskine +is at least neither a gambler nor a slave-driver at first hand; if he +lives upon plundered labor he can no more help himself than I. Do not +say that you hope for much more; but tell me, if you can, what more you +have any chance of getting? Mind, I do not ask what more you desire; we +all desire unutterable things. I ask you what more you can obtain!” + +“I have not found Mr. Erskine such a wonderful person as you seem to +think him.” + +“He is only a man. Do you know anybody more wonderful?” + +“Besides, my family might not approve.” + +“They most certainly will not. If you wish to please them, you must sell +yourself to some rich vampire of the factories or great landlord. If you +give yourself away to a poor poet who loves you, their disgust will be +unbounded. If a woman wishes to honor her father and mother to their own +satisfaction nowadays she must dishonor herself.” + +“I do not understand why you should be so anxious for me to marry +someone else?” + +“Someone else?” said Trefusis, puzzled. + +“I do not mean someone else,” said Gertrude hastily, reddening. “Why +should I marry at all?” + +“Why do any of us marry? Why do I marry? It is a function craving +fulfilment. If you do not marry betimes from choice, you will be driven +to do so later on by the importunity of your suitors and of your family, +and by weariness of the suspense that precedes a definite settlement of +oneself. Marry generously. Do not throw yourself away or sell yourself; +give yourself away. Erskine has as much at stake as you; and yet he +offers himself fearlessly.” + +Gertrude raised her head proudly. + +“It is true,” continued Trefusis, observing the gesture with some anger, +“that he thinks more highly of you than you deserve; but you, on the +other hand, think too lowly of him. When you marry him you must save him +from a cruel disenchantment by raising yourself to the level he fancies +you have attained. This will cost you an effort, and the effort will do +you good, whether it fail or succeed. As for him, he will find his +just level in your estimation if your thoughts reach high enough to +comprehend him at that level.” + +Gertrude moved impatiently. + +“What!” he said quickly. “Are my long-winded sacrifices to the god of +reason distasteful? I believe I am involuntarily making them so because +I am jealous of the fellow after all. Nevertheless I am serious; I want +you to get married; though I shall always have a secret grudge against +the man who marries you. Agatha will suspect me of treason if you don’t. +Erskine will be a disappointed man if you don’t. You will be moody, +wretched, and--and unmarried if you don’t.” + +Gertrude’s cheeks flushed at the word jealous, and again at his mention +of Agatha. “And if I do,” she said bitterly, “what then?” + +“If you do, Agatha’s mind will be at ease, Erskine will be happy, and +you! You will have sacrificed yourself, and will have the happiness +which follows that when it is worthily done.” + +“It is you who have sacrificed me,” she said, casting away her +reticence, and looking at him for the first time during the +conversation. + +“I know it,” he said, leaning towards her and half whispering the +words. “Is not renunciation the beginning and the end of wisdom? I have +sacrificed you rather than profane our friendship by asking you to share +my whole life with me. You are unfit for that, and I have committed +myself to another union, and am begging you to follow my example, lest +we should tempt one another to a step which would soon prove to you how +truly I tell you that you are unfit. I have never allowed you to roam +through all the chambers of my consciousness, but I keep a sanctuary +there for you alone, and will keep it inviolate for you always. Not even +Agatha shall have the key, she must be content with the other rooms--the +drawing-room, the working-room, the dining-room, and so forth. They +would not suit you; you would not like the furniture or the guests; +after a time you would not like the master. Will you be content with the +sanctuary?” Gertrude bit her lip; tears came into her eyes. She looked +imploringly at him. Had they been alone, she would have thrown herself +into his arms and entreated him to disregard everything except their +strong cleaving to one another. + +“And will you keep a corner of your heart for me?” + +She slowly gave him a painful look of acquiescence. “Will you be brave, +and sacrifice yourself to the poor man who loves you? He will save you +from useless solitude, or from a worldly marriage--I cannot bear to +think of either as your fate.” + +“I do not care for Mr. Erskine,” she said, hardly able to control her +voice; “but I will marry him if you wish it.” + +“I do wish it earnestly, Gertrude.” + +“Then, you have my promise,” she said, again with some bitterness. + +“But you will not forget me? Erskine will have all but that--a tender +recollection--nothing.” + +“Can I do more than I have just promised?” + +“Perhaps so; but I am too selfish to be able to conceive anything more +generous. Our renunciation will bind us to one another as our union +could never have done.” + +They exchanged a long look. Then he took out his watch, and began to +speak of the length of their journey, now nearly at an end. When they +arrived in London the first person they recognized on the platform was +Mr. Jansenius. + +“Ah! you got my telegram, I see,” said Trefusis. “Many thanks for +coming. Wait for me whilst I put this lady into a cab.” + +When the cab was engaged, and Gertrude, with her maid, stowed within, he +whispered to her hurriedly: + +“In spite of all, I have a leaden pain here” (indicating his heart). +“You have been brave, and I have been wise. Do not speak to me, but +remember that we are friends always and deeply.” + +He touched her hand, and turned to the cabman, directing him whither to +drive. Gertrude shrank back into a corner of the vehicle as it departed. +Then Trefusis, expanding his chest like a man just released from some +cramping drudgery, rejoined Mr. Jansenius. + +“There goes a true woman,” he said. “I have been persuading her to take +the very best step open to her. I began by talking sense, like a man of +honor, and kept at it for half an hour, but she would not listen to me. +Then I talked romantic nonsense of the cheapest sort for five minutes, +and she consented with tears in her eyes. Let us take this hansom. Hi! +Belsize Avenue. Yes; you sometimes have to answer a woman according to +her womanishness, just as you have to answer a fool according to his +folly. Have you ever made up your mind, Jansenius, whether I am an +unusually honest man, or one of the worst products of the social +organization I spend all my energies in assailing--an infernal +scoundrel, in short?” + +“Now pray do not be absurd,” said Mr. Jansenius. “I wonder at a man of +your ability behaving and speaking as you sometimes do.” + +“I hope a little insincerity, when meant to act as chloroform--to save +a woman from feeling a wound to her vanity--is excusable. By-the-bye, +I must send a couple of telegrams from the first post-office we pass. +Well, sir, I am going to marry Agatha, as I sent you word. There was +only one other single man and one other virgin down at Brandon Beeches, +and they are as good as engaged. And so-- + +“‘Jack shall have Jill, Nought shall go ill, The man shall have his mare +again; And all shall be well.’” + + + +APPENDIX + + + +LETTER TO THE AUTHOR FROM MR. SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + +My Dear Sir: I find that my friends are not quite satisfied with the +account you have given of them in your clever novel entitled “An +Unsocial Socialist.” You already understand that I consider it my duty +to communicate my whole history, without reserve, to whoever may desire +to be guided or warned by my experience, and that I have no sympathy +whatever with the spirit in which one of the ladies concerned recently +told you that her affairs were no business of yours or of the people who +read your books. When you asked my permission some years ago to make +use of my story, I at once said that you would be perfectly justified +in giving it the fullest publicity whether I consented or not, provided +only that you were careful not to falsify it for the sake of artistic +effect. Now, whilst cheerfully admitting that you have done your best +to fulfil that condition, I cannot help feeling that, in presenting the +facts in the guise of fiction, you have, in spite of yourself, shown +them in a false light. Actions described in novels are judged by a +romantic system of morals as fictitious as the actions themselves. The +traditional parts of this system are, as Cervantes tried to show, for +the chief part, barbarous and obsolete; the modern additions are largely +due to the novel readers and writers of our own century--most of them +half-educated women, rebelliously slavish, superstitious, sentimental, +full of the intense egotism fostered by their struggle for personal +liberty, and, outside their families, with absolutely no social +sentiment except love. Meanwhile, man, having fought and won his fight +for this personal liberty, only to find himself a more abject slave +than before, is turning with loathing from his egotist’s dream of +independence to the collective interests of society, with the welfare +of which he now perceives his own happiness to be inextricably bound +up. But man in this phase (would that all had reached it!) has not yet +leisure to write or read novels. In noveldom woman still sets the moral +standard, and to her the males, who are in full revolt against the +acceptance of the infatuation of a pair of lovers as the highest +manifestation of the social instinct, and against the restriction of the +affections within the narrow circle of blood relationship, and of +the political sympathies within frontiers, are to her what she calls +heartless brutes. That is exactly what I have been called by readers +of your novel; and that, indeed, is exactly what I am, judged by the +fictitious and feminine standard of morality. Hence some critics +have been able plausibly to pretend to take the book as a satire on +Socialism. It may, for what I know, have been so intended by you. +Whether or no, I am sorry you made a novel of my story, for the effect +has been almost as if you had misrepresented me from beginning to end. + +At the same time, I acknowledge that you have stated the facts, on the +whole, with scrupulous fairness. You have, indeed, flattered me very +strongly by representing me as constantly thinking of and for other +people, whereas the rest think of themselves alone, but on the other +hand you have contradictorily called me “unsocial,” which is certainly +the last adjective I should have expected to find in the neighborhood +of my name. I deny, it is true, that what is now called “society” + is society in any real sense, and my best wish for it is that it may +dissolve too rapidly to make it worth the while of those who are “not +in society” to facilitate its dissolution by violently pounding it into +small pieces. But no reader of “An Unsocial Socialist” needs to be +told how, by the exercise of a certain considerate tact (which on the +outside, perhaps, seems the opposite of tact), I have contrived to +maintain genial terms with men and women of all classes, even those +whose opinions and political conduct seemed to me most dangerous. + +However, I do not here propose to go fully into my own position, lest +I should seem tedious, and be accused, not for the first time, of a +propensity to lecture--a reproach which comes naturally enough from +persons whose conceptions are never too wide to be expressed within the +limits of a sixpenny telegram. I shall confine myself to correcting a +few misapprehensions which have, I am told, arisen among readers who +from inveterate habit cannot bring the persons and events of a novel +into any relation with the actual conditions of life. + +In the first place, then, I desire to say that Mrs. Erskine is not dead +of a broken heart. Erskine and I and our wives are very much in and out +at one another’s houses; and I am therefore in a position to declare +that Mrs. Erskine, having escaped by her marriage from the vile caste +in which she was relatively poor and artificially unhappy and +ill-conditioned, is now, as the pretty wife of an art-critic, relatively +rich, as well as pleasant, active, and in sound health. Her chief +trouble, as far as I can judge, is the impossibility of shaking off her +distinguished relatives, who furtively quit their abject splendor to +drop in upon her for dinner and a little genuine human society much +oftener than is convenient to poor Erskine. She has taken a patronizing +fancy to her father, the Admiral, who accepts her condescension +gratefully as age brings more and more home to him the futility of his +social position. She has also, as might have been expected, become an +extreme advocate of socialism; and indeed, being in a great hurry for +the new order of things, looks on me as a lukewarm disciple because I do +not propose to interfere with the slowly grinding mill of Evolution, and +effect the change by one tremendous stroke from the united and awakened +people (for such she--vainly, alas!--believes the proletariat already to +be). As to my own marriage, some have asked sarcastically whether I ran +away again or not; others, whether it has been a success. These are +foolish questions. My marriage has turned out much as I expected +it would. I find that my wife’s views on the subject vary with the +circumstances under which they are expressed. + +I have now to make one or two comments on the impressions conveyed +by the style of your narrative. Sufficient prominence has not, in my +opinion, been given to the extraordinary destiny of my father, the +true hero of a nineteenth century romance. I, who have seen society +reluctantly accepting works of genius for nothing from men of +extraordinary gifts, and at the same time helplessly paying my +father millions, and submitting to monstrous mortgages of its future +production, for a few directions as to the most business-like way of +manufacturing and selling cotton, cannot but wonder, as I prepare my +income-tax returns, whether society was mad to sacrifice thus to him and +to me. He was the man with power to buy, to build, to choose, to endow, +to sit on committees and adjudicate upon designs, to make his own terms +for placing anything on a sound business footing. He was hated, envied, +sneered at for his low origin, reproached for his ignorance, yet nothing +would pay unless he liked or pretended to like it. I look round at +our buildings, our statues, our pictures, our newspapers, our domestic +interiors, our books, our vehicles, our morals, our manners, our +statutes, and our religion, and I see his hand everywhere, for they +were all made or modified to please him. Those which did not please him +failed commercially: he would not buy them, or sell them, or countenance +them; and except through him, as “master of the industrial situation,” + nothing could be bought, or sold, or countenanced. The landlord could +do nothing with his acres except let them to him; the capitalist’s hoard +rotted and dwindled until it was lent to him; the worker’s muscles +and brain were impotent until sold to him. What king’s son would not +exchange with me--the son of the Great Employer--the Merchant Prince? +No wonder they proposed to imprison me for treason when, by applying my +inherited business talent, I put forward a plan for securing his full +services to society for a few hundred a year. But pending the adoption +of my plan, do not describe him contemptuously as a vulgar tradesman. +Industrial kingship, the only real kingship of our century, was his by +divine right of his turn for business; and I, his son, bid you respect +the crown whose revenues I inherit. If you don’t, my friend, your book +won’t pay. + +I hear, with some surprise, that the kindness of my conduct to Henrietta +(my first wife, you recollect) has been called in question; why, I do +not exactly know. Undoubtedly I should not have married her, but it is +waste of time to criticise the judgment of a young man in love. Since +I do not approve of the usual plan of neglecting and avoiding a spouse +without ceasing to keep up appearances, I cannot for the life of me see +what else I could have done than vanish when I found out my mistake. It +is but a short-sighted policy to wait for the mending of matters that +are bound to get worse. The notion that her death was my fault is sheer +unreason on the face of it; and I need no exculpation on that score; but +I must disclaim the credit of having borne her death like a philosopher. +I ought to have done so, but the truth is that I was greatly affected at +the moment, and the proof of it is that I and Jansenius (the only +other person who cared) behaved in a most unbecoming fashion, as men +invariably do when they are really upset. Perfect propriety at a death +is seldom achieved except by the undertaker, who has the advantage of +being free from emotion. + +Your rigmarole (if you will excuse the word) about the tombstone gives +quite a wrong idea of my attitude on that occasion. I stayed away from +the funeral for reasons which are, I should think, sufficiently obvious +and natural, but which you somehow seem to have missed. Granted that my +fancy for Hetty was only a cloud of illusions, still I could not, within +a few days of her sudden death, go in cold blood to take part in a +grotesque and heathenish mummery over her coffin. I should have +broken out and strangled somebody. But on every other point I--weakly +enough--sacrificed my own feelings to those of Jansenius. I let him +have his funeral, though I object to funerals and to the practice of +sepulture. I consented to a monument, although there is, to me, no more +bitterly ridiculous outcome of human vanity than the blocks raised to +tell posterity that John Smith, or Jane Jackson, late of this parish, +was born, lived, and died worth enough money to pay a mason to +distinguish their bones from those of the unrecorded millions. To +gratify Jansenius I waived this objection, and only interfered to save +him from being fleeced and fooled by an unnecessary West End middleman, +who, as likely as not, would have eventually employed the very man to +whom I gave the job. Even the epitaph was not mine. If I had had my way +I should have written: “HENRIETTA JANSENIUS WAS BORN ON SUCH A DATE, +MARRIED A MAN NAMED TREFUSIS, AND DIED ON SUCH ANOTHER DATE; AND NOW +WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHETHER SHE DID OR NOT?” The whole notion conveyed +in the book that I rode rough-shod over everybody in the affair, and +only consulted my own feelings, is the very reverse of the truth. + +As to the tomfoolery down at Brandon’s, which ended in Erskine and +myself marrying the young lady visitors there, I can only congratulate +you on the determination with which you have striven to make something +like a romance out of such very thin material. I cannot say that I +remember it all exactly as you have described it; my wife declares +flatly there is not a word of truth in it as far as she is concerned, +and Mrs. Erskine steadily refuses to read the book. + +On one point I must acknowledge that you have proved yourself a master +of the art of fiction. What Hetty and I said to one another that day +when she came upon me in the shrubbery at Alton College was known only +to us two. She never told it to anyone, and I soon forgot it. All +due honor, therefore, to the ingenuity with which you have filled the +hiatus, and shown the state of affairs between us by a discourse on +“surplus value,” cribbed from an imperfect report of one of my public +lectures, and from the pages of Karl Marx! If you were an economist I +should condemn you for confusing economic with ethical considerations, +and for your uncertainty as to the function which my father got his +start by performing. But as you are only a novelist, I compliment you +heartily on your clever little pasticcio, adding, however, that as an +account of what actually passed between myself and Hetty, it is the +wildest romance ever penned. Wickens’s boy was far nearer the mark. + +In conclusion, allow me to express my regret that you can find no +better employment for your talent than the writing of novels. The first +literary result of the foundation of our industrial system upon the +profits of piracy and slave-trading was Shakspere. It is our misfortune +that the sordid misery and hopeless horror of his view of man’s destiny +is still so appropriate to English society that we even to-day regard +him as not for an age, but for all time. But the poetry of despair will +not outlive despair itself. Your nineteenth century novelists are only +the tail of Shakspere. Don’t tie yourself to it: it is fast wriggling +into oblivion. + +I am, dear sir, yours truly, + +SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s An Unsocial Socialist, by George Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST *** + +***** This file should be named 1654-0.txt or 1654-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/1654/ + +Produced by Dianne Bean and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/1654-0.zip b/1654-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8176787 --- /dev/null +++ b/1654-0.zip diff --git a/1654-h.zip b/1654-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..322fd17 --- /dev/null +++ b/1654-h.zip diff --git a/1654-h/1654-h.htm b/1654-h/1654-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2064841 --- /dev/null +++ b/1654-h/1654-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12783 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + An Unsocial Socialist, by George Bernard Shaw + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Unsocial Socialist, by George Bernard Shaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An Unsocial Socialist + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1654] +Last Updated: September 21, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST *** + + + + +Produced by Dianne Bean and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST + </h1> + <h2> + by George Bernard Shaw + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_APPE"> APPENDIX </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + In the dusk of an October evening, a sensible looking woman of forty came + out through an oaken door to a broad landing on the first floor of an old + English country-house. A braid of her hair had fallen forward as if she + had been stooping over book or pen; and she stood for a moment to smooth + it, and to gaze contemplatively—not in the least sentimentally—through + the tall, narrow window. The sun was setting, but its glories were at the + other side of the house; for this window looked eastward, where the + landscape of sheepwalks and pasture land was sobering at the approach of + darkness. + </p> + <p> + The lady, like one to whom silence and quiet were luxuries, lingered on + the landing for some time. Then she turned towards another door, on which + was inscribed, in white letters, Class Room No. 6. Arrested by a + whispering above, she paused in the doorway, and looked up the stairs + along a broad smooth handrail that swept round in an unbroken curve at + each landing, forming an inclined plane from the top to the bottom of the + house. + </p> + <p> + A young voice, apparently mimicking someone, now came from above, saying, + </p> + <p> + “We will take the Etudes de la Velocite next, if you please, ladies.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately a girl in a holland dress shot down through space; whirled + round the curve with a fearless centrifugal toss of her ankle; and + vanished into the darkness beneath. She was followed by a stately girl in + green, intently holding her breath as she flew; and also by a large young + woman in black, with her lower lip grasped between her teeth, and her fine + brown eyes protruding with excitement. Her passage created a miniature + tempest which disarranged anew the hair of the lady on the landing, who + waited in breathless alarm until two light shocks and a thump announced + that the aerial voyagers had landed safely in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Oh law!” exclaimed the voice that had spoken before. “Here’s Susan.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a mercy your neck ain’t broken,” replied some palpitating female. + “I’ll tell of you this time, Miss Wylie; indeed I will. And you, too, Miss + Carpenter: I wonder at you not to have more sense at your age and with + your size! Miss Wilson can’t help hearing when you come down with a thump + like that. You shake the whole house.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh bother!” said Miss Wylie. “The Lady Abbess takes good care to shut out + all the noise we make. Let us—” + </p> + <p> + “Girls,” said the lady above, calling down quietly, but with ominous + distinctness. + </p> + <p> + Silence and utter confusion ensued. Then came a reply, in a tone of + honeyed sweetness, from Miss Wylie: + </p> + <p> + “Did you call us, DEAR Miss Wilson?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Come up here, if you please, all three.” + </p> + <p> + There was some hesitation among them, each offering the other precedence. + At last they went up slowly, in the order, though not at all in the + manner, of their flying descent; followed Miss Wilson into the class-room; + and stood in a row before her, illumined through three western windows + with a glow of ruddy orange light. Miss Carpenter, the largest of the + three, was red and confused. Her arms hung by her sides, her fingers + twisting the folds of her dress. Miss Gertrude Lindsay, in pale sea-green, + had a small head, delicate complexion, and pearly teeth. She stood erect, + with an expression of cold distaste for reproof of any sort. The holland + dress of the third offender had changed from yellow to white as she passed + from the gray eastern twilight on the staircase into the warm western glow + in the room. Her face had a bright olive tone, and seemed to have a golden + mica in its composition. Her eyes and hair were hazel-nut color; and her + teeth, the upper row of which she displayed freely, were like fine + Portland stone, and sloped outward enough to have spoilt her mouth, had + they not been supported by a rich under lip, and a finely curved, impudent + chin. Her half cajoling, half mocking air, and her ready smile, were + difficult to confront with severity; and Miss Wilson knew it; for she + would not look at her even when attracted by a convulsive start and an + angry side glance from Miss Lindsay, who had just been indented between + the ribs by a finger tip. + </p> + <p> + “You are aware that you have broken the rules,” said Miss Wilson quietly. + </p> + <p> + “We didn’t intend to. We really did not,” said the girl in holland, + coaxingly. + </p> + <p> + “Pray what was your intention then, Miss Wylie?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wylie unexpectedly treated this as a smart repartee instead of a + rebuke. She sent up a strange little scream, which exploded in a cascade + of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Pray be silent, Agatha,” said Miss Wilson severely. Agatha looked + contrite. Miss Wilson turned hastily to the eldest of the three, and + continued: + </p> + <p> + “I am especially surprised at you, Miss Carpenter. Since you have no + desire to keep faith with me by upholding the rules, of which you are + quite old enough to understand the necessity, I shall not trouble you with + reproaches, or appeals to which I am now convinced that you would not + respond,” (here Miss Carpenter, with an inarticulate protest, burst into + tears); “but you should at least think of the danger into which your + juniors are led by your childishness. How should you feel if Agatha had + broken her neck?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed Agatha, putting her hand quickly to her neck. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t think there was any danger,” said Miss Carpenter, struggling + with her tears. “Agatha has done it so oft—oh dear! you have torn + me.” Miss Wylie had pulled at her schoolfellow’s skirt, and pulled too + hard. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wylie,” said Miss Wilson, flushing slightly, “I must ask you to + leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” exclaimed Agatha, clasping her hands in distress. “Please don’t, + dear Miss Wilson. I am so sorry. I beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “Since you will not do what I ask, I must go myself,” said Miss Wilson + sternly. “Come with me to my study,” she added to the two other girls. “If + you attempt to follow, Miss Wylie, I shall regard it as an intrusion.” + </p> + <p> + “But I will go away if you wish it. I didn’t mean to diso—” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not trouble you now. Come, girls.” + </p> + <p> + The three went out; and Miss Wylie, left behind in disgrace, made a + surpassing grimace at Miss Lindsay, who glanced back at her. When she was + alone, her vivacity subsided. She went slowly to the window, and gazed + disparagingly at the landscape. Once, when a sound of voices above reached + her, her eyes brightened, and her ready lip moved; but the next silent + moment she relapsed into moody indifference, which was not relieved until + her two companions, looking very serious, re-entered. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said gaily, “has moral force been applied? Are you going to + the Recording Angel?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Agatha,” said Miss Carpenter. “You ought to be ashamed of + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but you ought, you goose. A nice row you have got me into!” + </p> + <p> + “It was your own fault. You tore my dress.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, when you were blurting out that I sometimes slide down the + banisters.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Miss Carpenter slowly, as if this reason had not occurred to + her before. “Was that why you pulled me?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! It has actually dawned upon you. You are a most awfully silly + girl, Jane. What did the Lady Abbess say?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Carpenter again gave her tears way, and could not reply. + </p> + <p> + “She is disgusted with us, and no wonder,” said Miss Lindsay. + </p> + <p> + “She said it was all your fault,” sobbed Miss Carpenter. + </p> + <p> + “Well, never mind, dear,” said Agatha soothingly. “Put it in the Recording + Angel.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t write a word in the Recording Angel unless you do so first,” said + Miss Lindsay angrily. “You are more in fault than we are.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, my dear,” replied Agatha. “A whole page, if you wish.” + </p> + <p> + “I b-believe you LIKE writing in the Recording Angel,” said Miss Carpenter + spitefully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Jane. It is the best fun the place affords.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be fun to you,” said Miss Lindsay sharply; “but it is not very + creditable to me, as Miss Wilson said just now, to take a prize in moral + science and then have to write down that I don’t know how to behave + myself. Besides, I do not like to be told that I am ill-bred!” + </p> + <p> + Agatha laughed. “What a deep old thing she is! She knows all our + weaknesses, and stabs at us through them. Catch her telling me, or Jane + there, that we are ill-bred!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand you,” said Miss Lindsay, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not. That’s because you don’t know as much moral science as I, + though I never took a prize in it.” + </p> + <p> + “You never took a prize in anything,” said Miss Carpenter. + </p> + <p> + “And I hope I never shall,” said Agatha. “I would as soon scramble for hot + pennies in the snow, like the street boys, as scramble to see who can + answer most questions. Dr. Watts is enough moral science for me. Now for + the Recording Angel.” + </p> + <p> + She went to a shelf and took down a heavy quarto, bound in black leather, + and inscribed, in red letters, MY FAULTS. This she threw irreverently on a + desk, and tossed its pages over until she came to one only partly covered + with manuscript confessions. + </p> + <p> + “For a wonder,” she said, “here are two entries that are not mine. Sarah + Gerram! What has she been confessing?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t read it,” said Miss Lindsay quickly. “You know that it is the most + dishonorable thing any of us can do.” + </p> + <p> + “Poch! Our little sins are not worth making such a fuss about. I always + like to have my entries read: it makes me feel like an author; and so in + Christian duty I always read other people’s. Listen to poor Sarah’s tale + of guilt. ‘1st October. I am very sorry that I slapped Miss Chambers in + the lavatory this morning, and knocked out one of her teeth. This was very + wicked; but it was coming out by itself; and she has forgiven me because a + new one will come in its place; and she was only pretending when she said + she swallowed it. Sarah Gerram.”’ + </p> + <p> + “Little fool!” said Miss Lindsay. “The idea of our having to record in the + same book with brats like that!” + </p> + <p> + “Here is a touching revelation. ‘4th October. Helen Plantagenet is deeply + grieved to have to confess that I took the first place in algebra + yesterday unfairly. Miss Lindsay prompted me;’ and—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed Miss Lindsay, reddening. “That is how she thanks me for + prompting her, is it? How dare she confess my faults in the Recording + Angel?” + </p> + <p> + “Serves you right for prompting her,” said Miss Carpenter. “She was always + a double-faced cat; and you ought to have known better.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I assure you it was not for her sake that I did it,” replied Miss + Lindsay. “It was to prevent that Jackson girl from getting first place. I + don’t like Helen Plantagenet; but at least she is a lady.’ + </p> + <p> + “Stuff, Gertrude,” said Agatha, with a touch of earnestness. “One would + think, to hear you talk, that your grandmother was a cook. Don’t be such a + snob.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wylie,” said Gertrude, becoming scarlet: “you are very—oh! oh! + Stop Ag—oh! I will tell Miss—oh!” Agatha had inserted a steely + finger between her ribs, and was tickling her unendurably. + </p> + <p> + “Sh-sh-sh,” whispered Miss Carpenter anxiously. “The door is open.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I Miss Wylie?” demanded Agatha, relentlessly continuing the torture. + “Am I very—whatever you were going to say? Am I? am I? am I?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” gasped Gertrude, shrinking into a chair, almost in hysterics. + “You are very unkind, Agatha. You have hurt me.” + </p> + <p> + “You deserve it. If you ever get sulky with me again, or call me Miss + Wylie, I will kill you. I will tickle the soles of your feet with a + feather,” (Miss Lindsay shuddered, and hid her feet beneath the chair) + “until your hair turns white. And now, if you are truly repentant, come + and record.” + </p> + <p> + “You must record first. It was all your fault.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am the youngest,” said Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said Gertrude, afraid to press the point, but determined not + to record first, “let Jane Carpenter begin. She is the eldest.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course,” said Jane, with whimpering irony. “Let Jane do all the + nasty things first. I think it’s very hard. You fancy that Jane is a fool; + but she isn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “You are certainly not such a fool as you look, Jane,” said Agatha + gravely. “But I will record first, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you shan’t,” cried Jane, snatching the pen from her. “I am the + eldest; and I won’t be put out of my place.” + </p> + <p> + She dipped the pen in the ink resolutely, and prepared to write. Then she + paused; considered; looked bewildered; and at last appealed piteously to + Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I write?” she said. “You know how to write things down; and I + don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “First put the date,” said Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said Jane, writing it quickly. “I forgot that. Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Now write, ‘I am very sorry that Miss Wilson saw me when I slid down the + banisters this evening. Jane Carpenter.’” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all: unless you wish to add something of your own composition.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope it’s all right,” said Jane, looking suspiciously at Agatha. + “However, there can’t be any harm in it; for it’s the simple truth. + Anyhow, if you are playing one of your jokes on me, you are a nasty mean + thing, and I don’t care. Now, Gertrude, it’s your turn. Please look at + mine, and see whether the spelling is right.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not my business to teach you to spell,” said Gertrude, taking the + pen. And, while Jane was murmuring at her churlishness, she wrote in a + bold hand: + </p> + <p> + “I have broken the rules by sliding down the banisters to-day with Miss + Carpenter and Miss Wylie. Miss Wylie went first.” + </p> + <p> + “You wretch!” exclaimed Agatha, reading over her shoulder. “And your + father is an admiral!” + </p> + <p> + “I think it is only fair,” said Miss Lindsay, quailing, but assuming the + tone of a moralist. “It is perfectly true.” + </p> + <p> + “All my money was made in trade,” said Agatha; “but I should be ashamed to + save myself by shifting blame to your aristocratic shoulders. You pitiful + thing! Here: give me the pen.” + </p> + <p> + “I will strike it out if you wish; but I think—” + </p> + <p> + “No: it shall stay there to witness against you. Now see how I confess my + faults.” And she wrote, in a fine, rapid hand: + </p> + <p> + “This evening Gertrude Lindsay and Jane Carpenter met me at the top of the + stairs, and said they wanted to slide down the banisters and would do it + if I went first. I told them that it was against the rules, but they said + that did not matter; and as they are older than I am, I allowed myself to + be persuaded, and did.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that?” said Agatha, displaying the page. + </p> + <p> + They read it, and protested clamorously. + </p> + <p> + “It is perfectly true,” said Agatha, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “It’s beastly mean,” said Jane energetically. “The idea of your finding + fault with Gertrude, and then going and being twice as bad yourself! I + never heard of such a thing in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Thus bad begins; but worse remains behind,’ as the Standard Elocutionist + says,” said Agatha, adding another sentence to her confession. + </p> + <p> + “But it was all my fault. Also I was rude to Miss Wilson, and refused to + leave the room when she bade me. I was not wilfully wrong except in + sliding down the banisters. I am so fond of a slide that I could not + resist the temptation.” + </p> + <p> + “Be warned by me, Agatha,” said Jane impressively. “If you write cheeky + things in that book, you will be expelled.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” replied Agatha significantly. “Wait until Miss Wilson sees what + you have written.” + </p> + <p> + “Gertrude,” cried Jane, with sudden misgiving, “has she made me write + anything improper? Agatha, do tell me if—” + </p> + <p> + Here a gong sounded; and the three girls simultaneously exclaimed “Grub!” + and rushed from the room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + One sunny afternoon, a hansom drove at great speed along Belsize Avenue, + St. John’s Wood, and stopped before a large mansion. A young lady sprang + out; ran up the steps, and rang the bell impatiently. She was of the olive + complexion, with a sharp profile: dark eyes with long lashes; narrow mouth + with delicately sensuous lips; small head, feet, and hands, with long + taper fingers; lithe and very slender figure moving with serpent-like + grace. Oriental taste was displayed in the colors of her costume, which + consisted of a white dress, close-fitting, and printed with an elaborate + china blue pattern; a yellow straw hat covered with artificial hawthorn + and scarlet berries; and tan-colored gloves reaching beyond the elbow, and + decorated with a profusion of gold bangles. + </p> + <p> + The door not being opened immediately, she rang again, violently, and was + presently admitted by a maid, who seemed surprised to see her. Without + making any inquiry, she darted upstairs into a drawing-room, where a + matron of good presence, with features of the finest Jewish type, sat + reading. With her was a handsome boy in black velvet, who said: + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, here’s Henrietta!” + </p> + <p> + “Arthur,” said the young lady excitedly, “leave the room this instant; and + don’t dare to come back until you get leave.” + </p> + <p> + The boy’s countenance fell, and he sulkily went out without a word. + </p> + <p> + “Is anything wrong?” said the matron, putting away her book with the + unconcerned resignation of an experienced person who foresees a storm in a + teacup. “Where is Sidney?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone! Gone! Deserted me! I—” The young lady’s utterance failed, and + she threw herself upon an ottoman, sobbing with passionate spite. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! I thought Sidney had more sense. There, Henrietta, don’t be + silly. I suppose you have quarrelled.” + </p> + <p> + “No! No!! No!!!” cried Henrietta, stamping on the carpet. “We had not a + word. I have not lost my temper since we were married, mamma; I solemnly + swear I have not. I will kill myself; there is no other way. There’s a + curse on me. I am marked out to be miserable. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut! What has happened, Henrietta? As you have been married now + nearly six weeks, you can hardly be surprised at a little tiff arising. + You are so excitable! You cannot expect the sky to be always cloudless. + Most likely you are to blame; for Sidney is far more reasonable than you. + Stop crying, and behave like a woman of sense, and I will go to Sidney and + make everything right.” + </p> + <p> + “But he’s gone, and I can’t find out where. Oh, what shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta writhed with impatience. Then, forcing herself to tell her + story, she answered: + </p> + <p> + “We arranged on Monday that I should spend two days with Aunt Judith + instead of going with him to Birmingham to that horrid Trade Congress. We + parted on the best of terms. He couldn’t have been more affectionate. I + will kill myself; I don’t care about anything or anybody. And when I came + back on Wednesday he was gone, and there was this letter.” She produced a + letter, and wept more bitterly than before. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see it.” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta hesitated, but her mother took the letter from her, sat down + near the window, and composed herself to read without the least regard to + her daughter’s vehement distress. The letter ran thus: + </p> + <p> + “Monday night. + </p> + <p> + “My Dearest: I am off—surfeited with endearment—to live my own + life and do my own work. I could only have prepared you for this by + coldness or neglect, which are wholly impossible to me when the spell of + your presence is upon me. I find that I must fly if I am to save myself. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid that I cannot give you satisfactory and intelligible reasons + for this step. You are a beautiful and luxurious creature: life is to you + full and complete only when it is a carnival of love. My case is just the + reverse. Before three soft speeches have escaped me I rebuke myself for + folly and insincerity. Before a caress has had time to cool, a strenuous + revulsion seizes me: I long to return to my old lonely ascetic hermit + life; to my dry books; my Socialist propagandism; my voyage of discovery + through the wilderness of thought. I married in an insane fit of belief + that I had a share of the natural affection which carries other men + through lifetimes of matrimony. Already I am undeceived. You are to me the + loveliest woman in the world. Well, for five weeks I have walked and + tallied and dallied with the loveliest woman in the world, and the upshot + is that I am flying from her, and am for a hermit’s cave until I die. Love + cannot keep possession of me: all my strongest powers rise up against it + and will not endure it. Forgive me for writing nonsense that you won’t + understand, and do not think too hardly of me. I have been as good to you + as my selfish nature allowed. Do not seek to disturb me in the obscurity + which I desire and deserve. My solicitor will call on your father to + arrange business matters, and you shall be as happy as wealth and liberty + can make you. We shall meet again—some day. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, my last love, + </p> + <p> + “Sidney Trefusis.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” cried Mrs. Trefusis, observing through her tears that her mother + had read the letter and was contemplating it in a daze. + </p> + <p> + “Well, certainly!” said Mrs. Jansenius, with emphasis. “Do you think he is + quite sane, Henrietta? Or have you been plaguing him for too much + attention? Men are not willing to give up their whole existence to their + wives, even during the honeymoon.” + </p> + <p> + “He pretended that he was never happy out of my presence,” sobbed + Henrietta. “There never was anything so cruel. I often wanted to be by + myself for a change, but I was afraid to hurt his feelings by saying so. + And now he has no feelings. But he must come back to me. Mustn’t he, + mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “He ought to. I suppose he has not gone away with anyone?” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta sprang up, her cheeks vivid scarlet. “If I thought that I would + pursue him to the end of the earth, and murder her. But no; he is not like + anybody else. He hates me! Everybody hates me! You don’t care whether I am + deserted or not, nor papa, nor anyone in this house.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jansenius, still indifferent to her daughter’s agitation, considered + a moment, and then said placidly: + </p> + <p> + “You can do nothing until we hear from the solicitor. In the meantime you + may stay with us, if you wish. I did not expect a visit from you so soon; + but your room has not been used since you went away.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Trefusis ceased crying, chilled by this first intimation that her + father’s house was no longer her home. A more real sense of desolation + came upon her. Under its cold influence she began to collect herself, and + to feel her pride rising like a barrier between her and her mother. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t stay long,” she said. “If his solicitor will not tell me where he + is, I will hunt through England for him. I am sorry to trouble you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you will be no greater trouble than you have always been,” said Mrs. + Jansenius calmly, not displeased to see that her daughter had taken the + hint. “You had better go and wash your face. People may call, and I + presume you don’t wish to receive them in that plight. If you meet Arthur + on the stairs, please tell him he may come in.” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta screwed her lips into a curious pout and withdrew. Arthur then + came in and stood at the window in sullen silence, brooding over his + recent expulsion. Suddenly he exclaimed: “Here’s papa, and it’s not five + o’clock yet!” whereupon his mother sent him away again. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jansenius was a man of imposing presence, not yet in his fiftieth + year, but not far from it. He moved with dignity, bearing himself as if + the contents of his massive brow were precious. His handsome aquiline nose + and keen dark eyes proclaimed his Jewish origin, of which he was ashamed. + Those who did not know this naturally believed that he was proud of it, + and were at a loss to account for his permitting his children to be + educated as Christians. Well instructed in business, and subject to no + emotion outside the love of family, respectability, comfort, and money, he + had maintained the capital inherited from his father, and made it breed + new capital in the usual way. He was a banker, and his object as such was + to intercept and appropriate the immense saving which the banking system + effects, and so, as far as possible, to leave the rest of the world + working just as hard as before banking was introduced. But as the world + would not on these terms have banked at all, he had to give them some of + the saving as an inducement. So they profited by the saving as well as he, + and he had the satisfaction of being at once a wealthy citizen and a + public benefactor, rich in comforts and easy in conscience. + </p> + <p> + He entered the room quickly, and his wife saw that something had vexed + him. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what has happened, Ruth?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She is upstairs.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jansenius stared. “Do you mean to say that she has left already?” he + said. “What business has she to come here?” + </p> + <p> + “It is natural enough. Where else should she have gone?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jansenius, who mistrusted his own judgment when it differed from that + of his wife, replied slowly, “Why did she not go to her mother?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jansenius, puzzled in her turn, looked at him with cool wonder, and + remarked, “I am her mother, am I not?” + </p> + <p> + “I was not aware of it. I am surprised to hear it, Ruth. Have you had a + letter too. I have seen the letter. But what do you mean by telling me + that you do not know I am Henrietta’s mother? Are you trying to be funny?” + </p> + <p> + “Henrietta! Is she here? Is this some fresh trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. What are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “I am talking about Agatha Wylie.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I was talking about Henrietta.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what about Henrietta?” + </p> + <p> + “What about Agatha Wylie?” + </p> + <p> + At this Mr. Jansenius became exasperated, and he deemed it best to relate + what Henrietta had told her. When she gave him Trefusis’s letter, he said, + more calmly: “Misfortunes never come singly. Read that,” and handed her + another letter, so that they both began reading at the same time. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jansenius read as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Alton College, Lyvern. + </p> + <p> + “To Mrs. Wylie, Acacia Lodge, Chiswick. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Madam: I write with great regret to request that you will at once + withdraw Miss Wylie from Alton College. In an establishment like this, + where restraint upon the liberty of the students is reduced to a minimum, + it is necessary that the small degree of subordination which is absolutely + indispensable be acquiesced in by all without complaint or delay. Miss + Wylie has failed to comply with this condition. She has declared her wish + to leave, and has assumed an attitude towards myself and my colleagues + which we cannot, consistently with our duty to ourselves and her fellow + students, pass over. If Miss Wylie has any cause to complain of her + treatment here, or of the step which she has compelled us to take, she + will doubtless make it known to you. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you will be so good as to communicate with Miss Wylie’s guardian, + Mr. Jansenius, with whom I shall be happy to make an equitable arrangement + respecting the fees which have been paid in advance for the current term. + </p> + <p> + “I am, dear madam, + </p> + <p> + “Yours faithfully, + </p> + <p> + “Maria Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + “A nice young lady, that!” said Mrs. Jansenius. + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand this,” said Mr. Jansenius, reddening as he took in + the purport of his son-in-law’s letter. “I will not submit to it. What + does it mean, Ruth?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Sidney is mad, I think; and his honeymoon has brought his + madness out. But you must not let him throw Henrietta on my hands again.” + </p> + <p> + “Mad! Does he think he can shirk his responsibility to his wife because + she is my daughter? Does he think, because his mother’s father was a + baronet, that he can put Henrietta aside the moment her society palls on + him?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s nothing of that sort. He never thought of us. But I will make + him think of us,” said Mr. Jansenius, raising his voice in great + agitation. “He shall answer for it.” + </p> + <p> + Just then Henrietta returned, and saw her father moving excitedly to and + fro, repeating, “He shall answer to me for this. He shall answer for it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jansenius frowned at her daughter to remain silent, and said + soothingly, “Don’t lose your temper, John.” + </p> + <p> + “But I will lose my temper. Insolent hound! Damned scoundrel!” + </p> + <p> + “He is not,” whimpered Henrietta, sitting down and taking out her + handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, come!” said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily, “we have had enough + crying. Let us have no more of it.” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta sprang up in a passion. “I will say and do as I please,” she + exclaimed. “I am a married woman, and I will receive no orders. And I will + have my husband back again, no matter what he does to hide himself. Papa, + won’t you make him come back to me? I am dying. Promise that you will make + him come back.” + </p> + <p> + And, throwing herself upon her father’s bosom, she postponed further + discussion by going into hysterics, and startling the household by her + screams. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + One of the professors at Alton College was a Mrs. Miller, an old-fashioned + schoolmistress who did not believe in Miss Wilson’s system of government + by moral force, and carried it out under protest. Though not ill-natured, + she was narrow-minded enough to be in some degree contemptible, and was + consequently prone to suspect others of despising her. She suspected + Agatha in particular, and treated her with disdainful curtness in such + intercourse as they had—it was fortunately little. Agatha was not + hurt by this, for Mrs. Miller was an unsympathetic woman, who made no + friends among the girls, and satisfied her affectionate impulses by + petting a large cat named Gracchus, but generally called Bacchus by an + endearing modification of the harsh initial consonant. + </p> + <p> + One evening Mrs. Miller, seated with Miss Wilson in the study, correcting + examination papers, heard in the distance a cry like that of a cat in + distress. She ran to the door and listened. Presently there arose a + prolonged wail, slurring up through two octaves, and subsiding again. It + was a true feline screech, impossible to localize; but it was interrupted + by a sob, a snarl, a fierce spitting, and a scuffling, coming unmistakably + from a room on the floor beneath, in which, at that hour, the older girls + assembled for study. + </p> + <p> + “My poor Gracchy!” exclaimed Mrs. Miller, running downstairs as fast as + she could. She found the room unusually quiet. Every girl was deep in + study except Miss Carpenter, who, pretending to pick up a fallen book, was + purple with suppressed laughter and the congestion caused by stooping. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Miss Ward?” demanded Mrs. Miller. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Ward has gone for some astronomical diagrams in which we are + interested,” said Agatha, looking up gravely. Just then Miss Ward, + diagrams in hand, entered. + </p> + <p> + “Has that cat been in here?” she said, not seeing Mrs. Miller, and + speaking in a tone expressive of antipathy to Gracchus. + </p> + <p> + Agatha started and drew up her ankles, as if fearful of having them + bitten. Then, looking apprehensively under the desk, she replied, “There + is no cat here, Miss Ward.” + </p> + <p> + “There is one somewhere; I heard it,” said Miss Ward carelessly, unrolling + her diagrams, which she began to explain without further parley. Mrs. + Miller, anxious for her pet, hastened to seek it elsewhere. In the hall + she met one of the housemaids. + </p> + <p> + “Susan,” she said, “have you seen Gracchus?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s asleep on the hearthrug in your room, ma’am. But I heard him crying + down here a moment ago. I feel sure that another cat has got in, and that + they are fighting.” + </p> + <p> + Susan smiled compassionately. “Lor’ bless you, ma’am,” she said, “that was + Miss Wylie. It’s a sort of play-acting that she goes through. There is the + bee on the window-pane, and the soldier up the chimley, and the cat under + the dresser. She does them all like life.” + </p> + <p> + “The soldier in the chimney!” repeated Mrs. Miller, shocked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma’am. Like as it were a follower that had hid there when he heard + the mistress coming.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Miller’s face set determinedly. She returned to the study and related + what had just occurred, adding some sarcastic comments on the efficacy of + moral force in maintaining collegiate discipline. Miss Wilson looked + grave; considered for some time; and at last said: “I must think over + this. Would you mind leaving it in my hands for the present?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Miller said that she did not care in whose hands it remained provided + her own were washed of it, and resumed her work at the papers. Miss Wilson + then, wishing to be alone, went into the empty classroom at the other side + of the landing. She took the Fault Book from its shelf and sat down before + it. Its record closed with the announcement, in Agatha’s handwriting: + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson has called me impertinent, and has written to my uncle that I + have refused to obey the rules. I was not impertinent; and I never refused + to obey the rules. So much for Moral Force!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson rose vigorously, exclaiming: “I will soon let her know whether—” + She checked herself, and looked round hastily, superstitiously fancying + that Agatha might have stolen into the room unobserved. Reassured that she + was alone, she examined her conscience as to whether she had done wrong in + calling Agatha impertinent, justifying herself by the reflection that + Agatha had, in fact, been impertinent. Yet she recollected that she had + refused to admit this plea on a recent occasion when Jane Carpenter had + advanced it in extenuation of having called a fellow-student a liar. Had + she then been unjust to Jane, or inconsiderate to Agatha? + </p> + <p> + Her casuistry was interrupted by some one softly whistling a theme from + the overture to Masaniello, popular at the college in the form of an + arrangement for six pianofortes and twelve hands. There was only one + student unladylike and musical enough to whistle; and Miss Wilson was + ashamed to find herself growing nervous at the prospect of an encounter + with Agatha, who entered whistling sweetly, but with a lugubrious + countenance. When she saw in whose presence she stood, she begged pardon + politely, and was about to withdraw, when Miss Wilson, summoning all her + Judgment and tact, and hoping that they would—contrary to their + custom in emergencies—respond to the summons, said: + </p> + <p> + “Agatha, come here. I want to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha closed her lips, drew in a long breath through her nostrils, and + marched to within a few feet of Miss Wilson, where she halted with her + hands clasped before her. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha sat down with a single movement, like a doll. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand that, Agatha,” said Miss Wilson, pointing to the entry + in the Recording Angel. “What does it mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I am unfairly treated,” said Agatha, with signs of agitation. + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “In every way. I am expected to be something more than mortal. Everyone + else is encouraged to complain, and to be weak and silly. But I must have + no feeling. I must be always in the right. Everyone else may be home-sick, + or huffed, or in low spirits. I must have no nerves, and must keep others + laughing all day long. Everyone else may sulk when a word of reproach is + addressed to them, and may make the professors afraid to find fault with + them. I have to bear with the insults of teachers who have less + self-control than I, a girl of seventeen! and must coax them out of the + difficulties they make for themselves by their own ill temper.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Agatha—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know I am talking nonsense, Miss Wilson; but can you expect me to + be always sensible—to be infallible?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Agatha; I do not think it is too much to expect you to be always + sensible; and—” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have neither sense nor sympathy yourself,” said Agatha. + </p> + <p> + There was an awful pause. Neither could have told how long it lasted. Then + Agatha, feeling that she must do or say something desperate, or else fly, + made a distracted gesture and ran out of the room. + </p> + <p> + She rejoined her companions in the great hall of the mansion, where they + were assembled after study for “recreation,” a noisy process which always + set in spontaneously when the professors withdrew. She usually sat with + her two favorite associates on a high window seat near the hearth. That + place was now occupied by a little girl with flaxen hair, whom Agatha, + regardless of moral force, lifted by the shoulders and deposited on the + floor. Then she sat down and said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, such a piece of news!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Carpenter opened her eyes eagerly. Gertrude Lindsay affected + indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Someone is going to be expelled,” said Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “Expelled! Who?” + </p> + <p> + “You will know soon enough, Jane,” replied Agatha, suddenly grave. “It is + someone who made an impudent entry in the Recording Angel.” + </p> + <p> + Fear stole upon Jane, and she became very red. “Agatha,” she said, “it was + you who told me what to write. You know you did, and you can’t deny it.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t deny it, can’t I? I am ready to swear that I never dictated a + word to you in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Gertrude knows you did,” exclaimed Jane, appalled, and almost in tears. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said Agatha, petting her as if she were a vast baby. “It shall + not be expelled, so it shan’t. Have you seen the Recording Angel lately, + either of you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not since our last entry,” said Gertrude. + </p> + <p> + “Chips,” said Agatha, calling to the flaxen-haired child, “go upstairs to + No. 6, and, if Miss Wilson isn’t there, fetch me the Recording Angel.” + </p> + <p> + The little girl grumbled inarticulately and did not stir. + </p> + <p> + “Chips,” resumed Agatha, “did you ever wish that you had never been born?” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you go yourself?” said the child pettishly, but evidently + alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” continued Agatha, ignoring the question, “you shall wish + yourself dead and buried under the blackest flag in the coal cellar if you + don’t bring me the book before I count sixteen. One—two—” + </p> + <p> + “Go at once and do as you are told, you disagreeable little thing,” said + Gertrude sharply. “How dare you be so disobliging?” + </p> + <p> + “—nine—ten—eleven—” pursued Agatha. + </p> + <p> + The child quailed, went out, and presently returned, hugging the Recording + Angel in her arms. + </p> + <p> + “You are a good little darling—when your better qualities are + brought out by a judicious application of moral force,” said Agatha, + good-humoredly. “Remind me to save the raisins out of my pudding for you + to-morrow. Now, Jane, you shall see the entry for which the best-hearted + girl in the college is to be expelled. Voila!” + </p> + <p> + The two girls read and were awestruck; Jane opening her mouth and gasping, + Gertrude closing hers and looking very serious. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that you had the dreadful cheek to let the Lady Abbess + see that?” said Jane. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! she would have forgiven that. You should have heard what I said to + her! She fainted three times.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a story,” said Gertrude gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said Agatha, swiftly grasping Gertrude’s knee. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” cried Gertrude, flinching hysterically. “Don’t, Agatha.” + </p> + <p> + “How many times did Miss Wilson faint?” + </p> + <p> + “Three times. I will scream, Agatha; I will indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Three times, as you say. And I wonder that a girl brought up as you have + been, by moral force, should be capable of repeating such a falsehood. But + we had an awful row, really and truly. She lost her temper. Fortunately, I + never lose mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m browed!” exclaimed Jane incredulously. “I like that.” + </p> + <p> + “For a girl of county family, you are inexcusably vulgar, Jane. I don’t + know what I said; but she will never forgive me for profaning her pet + book. I shall be expelled as certainly as I am sitting here.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you mean to say that you are going away?” said Jane, faltering as + she began to realize the consequences. + </p> + <p> + “I do. And what is to become of you when I am not here to get you out of + your scrapes, or of Gertrude without me to check her inveterate + snobbishness, is more than I can foresee.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not snobbish,” said Gertrude, “although I do not choose to make + friends with everyone. But I never objected to you, Agatha.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I should like to catch you at it. Hallo, Jane!” (who had suddenly + burst into tears): “what’s the matter? I trust you are not permitting + yourself to take the liberty of crying for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” sobbed Jane indignantly, “I know that I am a f—fool for my + pains. You have no heart.” + </p> + <p> + “You certainly are a f—fool, as you aptly express it,” said Agatha, + passing her arm round Jane, and disregarding an angry attempt to shake it + off; “but if I had any heart it would be touched by this proof of your + attachment.” + </p> + <p> + “I never said you had no heart,” protested Jane; “but I hate when you + speak like a book.” + </p> + <p> + “You hate when I speak like a book, do you? My dear, silly old Jane! I + shall miss you greatly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I dare say,” said Jane, with tearful sarcasm. “At least my snoring + will never keep you awake again.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t snore, Jane. We have been in a conspiracy to make you believe + that you do, that’s all. Isn’t it good of me to tell you?” + </p> + <p> + Jane was overcome by this revelation. After a long pause, she said with + deep conviction, “I always knew that I didn’t. Oh, the way you kept it up! + I solemnly declare that from this time forth I will believe nobody.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and what do you think of it all?” said Agatha, transferring her + attention to Gertrude, who was very grave. + </p> + <p> + “I think—I am now speaking seriously, Agatha—I think you are + in the wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you think that, pray?” demanded Agatha, a little roused. + </p> + <p> + “You must be, or Miss Wilson would not be angry with you. Of course, + according to your own account, you are always in the right, and everyone + else is always wrong; but you shouldn’t have written that in the book. You + know I speak as your friend.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray what does your wretched little soul know of my motives and + feelings?” + </p> + <p> + “It is easy enough to understand you,” retorted Gertrude, nettled. + “Self-conceit is not so uncommon that one need be at a loss to recognize + it. And mind, Agatha Wylie,” she continued, as if goaded by some + unbearable reminiscence, “if you are really going, I don’t care whether we + part friends or not. I have not forgotten the day when you called me a + spiteful cat.” + </p> + <p> + “I have repented,” said Agatha, unmoved. “One day I sat down and watched + Bacchus seated on the hearthrug, with his moony eyes looking into space so + thoughtfully and patiently that I apologized for comparing you to him. If + I were to call him a spiteful cat he would only not believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “Because he is a cat,” said Jane, with the giggle which was seldom far + behind her tears. + </p> + <p> + “No; but because he is not spiteful. Gertrude keeps a recording angel + inside her little head, and it is so full of other people’s faults, + written in large hand and read through a magnifying glass, that there is + no room to enter her own.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very poetic,” said Gertrude; “but I understand what you mean, and + shall not forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “You ungrateful wretch,” exclaimed Agatha, turning upon her so suddenly + and imperiously that she involuntarily shrank aside: “how often, when you + have tried to be insolent and false with me, have I not driven away your + bad angel—by tickling you? Had you a friend in the college, except + half-a-dozen toadies, until I came? And now, because I have sometimes, for + your own good, shown you your faults, you bear malice against me, and say + that you don’t care whether we part friends or not!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Gertrude, you know you did,” said Jane. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to think that I have no conscience,” said Gertrude querulously. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you hadn’t,” said Agatha. “Look at me! I have no conscience, and + see how much pleasanter I am!” + </p> + <p> + “You care for no one but yourself,” said Gertrude. “You never think that + other people have feelings too. No one ever considers me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I like to hear you talk,” cried Jane ironically. “You are considered + a great deal more than is good for you; and the more you are considered + the more you want to be considered.” + </p> + <p> + “As if,” declaimed Agatha theatrically, “increase of appetite did grow by + what it fed on. Shakespeare!” + </p> + <p> + “Bother Shakespeare,” said Jane, impetuously, “—old fool that + expects credit for saying things that everybody knows! But if you complain + of not being considered, Gertrude, how would you like to be me, whom + everybody sets down as a fool? But I am not such a fool as—” + </p> + <p> + “As you look,” interposed Agatha. “I have told you so scores of times, + Jane; and I am glad that you have adopted my opinion at last. Which would + you rather be, a greater fool than y—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up,” said Jane, impatiently; “you have asked me that twice this + week already.” + </p> + <p> + The three were silent for some seconds after this: Agatha meditating, + Gertrude moody, Jane vacant and restless. At last Agatha said: + </p> + <p> + “And are you two also smarting under a sense of the inconsiderateness and + selfishness of the rest of the world—both misunderstood—everything + expected from you, and no allowances made for you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what you mean by both of us,” said Gertrude coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I,” said Jane angrily. “That is just the way people treat me. + You may laugh, Agatha; and she may turn up her nose as much as she likes; + you know it’s true. But the idea of Gertrude wanting to make out that she + isn’t considered is nothing but sentimentality, and vanity, and nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “You are exceedingly rude, Miss Carpenter,” said Gertrude. + </p> + <p> + “My manners are as good as yours, and perhaps better,” retorted Jane. “My + family is as good, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Children, children,” said Agatha, admonitorily, “do not forget that you + are sworn friends.” + </p> + <p> + “We didn’t swear,” said Jane. “We were to have been three sworn friends, + and Gertrude and I were willing, but you wouldn’t swear, and so the + bargain was cried off.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” said Agatha; “and the result is that I spend all my time in + keeping peace between you. And now, to go back to our subject, may I ask + whether it has ever occurred to you that no one ever considers me?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you think that very funny. You take good care to make yourself + considered,” sneered Jane. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot say that I do not consider you,” said Gertrude reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “Not when I tickle you, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “I consider you, and I am not ticklesome,” said Jane tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Let me try,” said Agatha, slipping her arm about Jane’s ample + waist, and eliciting a piercing combination of laugh and scream from her. + </p> + <p> + “Sh—sh,” whispered Gertrude quickly. “Don’t you see the Lady + Abbess?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson had just entered the room. Agatha, without appearing to be + aware of her presence, stealthily withdrew her arm, and said aloud: + </p> + <p> + “How can you make such a noise, Jane? You will disturb the whole house.” + </p> + <p> + Jane reddened with indignation, but had to remain silent, for the eyes of + the principal were upon her. Miss Wilson had her bonnet on. She announced + that she was going to walk to Lyvern, the nearest village. Did any of the + sixth form young ladies wish to accompany her? + </p> + <p> + Agatha jumped from her seat at once, and Jane smothered a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson said the sixth form, Miss Wylie,” said Miss Ward, who had + entered also. “You are not in the sixth form.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Agatha sweetly, “but I want to go, if I may.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson looked round. The sixth form consisted of four studious young + ladies, whose goal in life for the present was an examination by one of + the Universities, or, as the college phrase was, “the Cambridge Local.” + None of them responded. + </p> + <p> + “Fifth form, then,” said Miss Wilson. + </p> + <p> + Jane, Gertrude, and four others rose and stood with Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Miss Wilson. “Do not be long dressing.” + </p> + <p> + They left the room quietly, and dashed at the staircase the moment they + were out of sight. Agatha, though void of emulation for the Cambridge + Local, always competed with ardor for the honor of being first up or down + stairs. + </p> + <p> + They soon returned, clad for walking, and left the college in procession, + two by two, Jane and Agatha leading, Gertrude and Miss Wilson coming last. + The road to Lyvern lay through acres of pasture land, formerly arable, now + abandoned to cattle, which made more money for the landlord than the men + whom they had displaced. Miss Wilson’s young ladies, being instructed in + economics, knew that this proved that the land was being used to produce + what was most wanted from it; and if all the advantage went to the + landlord, that was but natural, as he was the chief gentleman in the + neighborhood. Still the arrangement had its disagreeable side; for it + involved a great many cows, which made them afraid to cross the fields; a + great many tramps, who made them afraid to walk the roads; and a scarcity + of gentlemen subjects for the maiden art of fascination. + </p> + <p> + The sky was cloudy. Agatha, reckless of dusty stockings, waded through the + heaps of fallen leaves with the delight of a child paddling in the sea; + Gertrude picked her steps carefully, and the rest tramped along, chatting + subduedly, occasionally making some scientific or philosophical remark in + a louder tone, in order that Miss Wilson might overhear and give them due + credit. Save a herdsman, who seemed to have caught something of the nature + and expression of the beasts he tended, they met no one until they + approached the village, where, on the brow of an acclivity, masculine + humanity appeared in the shape of two curates: one tall, thin, + close-shaven, with a book under his arm, and his neck craned forward; the + other middle-sized, robust, upright, and aggressive, with short black + whiskers, and an air of protest against such notions as that a clergyman + may not marry, hunt, play cricket, or share the sports of honest laymen. + The shaven one was Mr. Josephs, his companion Mr. Fairholme. Obvious + scriptural perversions of this brace of names had been introduced by + Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “Here come Pharaoh and Joseph,” she said to Jane. “Joseph will blush when + you look at him. Pharaoh won’t blush until he passes Gertrude, so we shall + lose that.” + </p> + <p> + “Josephs, indeed!” said Jane scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “He loves you, Jane. Thin persons like a fine armful of a woman. Pharaoh, + who is a cad, likes blue blood on the same principle of the attraction of + opposites. That is why he is captivated by Gertrude’s aristocratic air.” + </p> + <p> + “If he only knew how she despises him!” + </p> + <p> + “He is too vain to suspect it. Besides, Gertrude despises everyone, even + us. Or, rather, she doesn’t despise anyone in particular, but is + contemptuous by nature, just as you are stout.” + </p> + <p> + “Me! I had rather be stout than stuck-up. Ought we to bow?” + </p> + <p> + “I will, certainly. I want to make Pharoah blush, if I can.” + </p> + <p> + The two parsons had been simulating an interest in the cloudy firmament as + an excuse for not looking at the girls until close at hand. Jane sent an + eyeflash at Josephs with a skill which proved her favorite assertion that + she was not so stupid as people thought. He blushed and took off his soft, + low-crowned felt hat. Fairholme saluted very solemnly, for Agatha bowed to + him with marked seriousness. But when his gravity and his stiff silk hat + were at their highest point she darted a mocking smile at him, and he too + blushed, all the deeper because he was enraged with himself for doing so. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever see such a pair of fools?” whispered Jane, giggling. + </p> + <p> + “They cannot help their sex. They say women are fools, and so they are; + but thank Heaven they are not quite so bad as men! I should like to look + back and see Pharaoh passing Gertrude; but if he saw me he would think I + was admiring him; and he is conceited enough already without that.” + </p> + <p> + The two curates became redder and redder as they passed the column of + young ladies. Miss Lindsay would not look to their side of the road, and + Miss Wilson’s nod and smile were not quite sincere. She never spoke to + curates, and kept up no more intercourse with the vicar than she could not + avoid. He suspected her of being an infidel, though neither he nor any + other mortal in Lyvern had ever heard a word from her on the subject of + her religious opinions. But he knew that “moral science” was taught + secularly at the college; and he felt that where morals were made a + department of science the demand for religion must fall off + proportionately. + </p> + <p> + “What a life to lead and what a place to live in!” exclaimed Agatha. “We + meet two creatures, more like suits of black than men; and that is an + incident—a startling incident—in our existence!” + </p> + <p> + “I think they’re awful fun,” said Jane, “except that Josephs has such + large ears.” + </p> + <p> + The girls now came to a place where the road dipped through a plantation + of sombre sycamore and horsechestnut trees. As they passed down into it, a + little wind sprang up, the fallen leaves stirred, and the branches heaved + a long, rustling sigh. + </p> + <p> + “I hate this bit of road,” said Jane, hurrying on. “It’s just the sort of + place that people get robbed and murdered in.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not such a bad place to shelter in if we get caught in the rain, as + I expect we shall before we get back,” said Agatha, feeling the fitful + breeze strike ominously on her cheek. “A nice pickle I shall be in with + these light shoes on! I wish I had put on my strong boots. If it rains + much I will go into the old chalet.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson won’t let you. It’s trespassing.” + </p> + <p> + “What matter! Nobody lives in it, and the gate is off its hinges. I only + want to stand under the veranda—not to break into the wretched + place. Besides, the landlord knows Miss Wilson; he won’t mind. There’s a + drop.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Carpenter looked up, and immediately received a heavy raindrop in her + eye. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried. “It’s pouring. We shall be drenched.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha stopped, and the column broke into a group about her. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson,” she said, “it is going to rain in torrents, and Jane and I + have only our shoes on.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson paused to consider the situation. Someone suggested that if + they hurried on they might reach Lyvern before the rain came down. + </p> + <p> + “More than a mile,” said Agatha scornfully, “and the rain coming down + already!” + </p> + <p> + Someone else suggested returning to the college. + </p> + <p> + “More than two miles,” said Agatha. “We should be drowned.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing for it but to wait here under the trees,” said Miss + Wilson. + </p> + <p> + “The branches are very bare,” said Gertrude anxiously. “If it should come + down heavily they will drip worse than the rain itself.” + </p> + <p> + “Much worse,” said Agatha. “I think we had better get under the veranda of + the old chalet. It is not half a minute’s walk from here.” + </p> + <p> + “But we have no right—” Here the sky darkened threateningly. Miss + Wilson checked herself and said, “I suppose it is still empty.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” replied Agatha, impatient to be moving. “It is almost a + ruin.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us go there, by all means,” said Miss Wilson, not disposed to + stand on trifles at the risk of a bad cold. + </p> + <p> + They hurried on, and came presently to a green hill by the wayside. On the + slope was a dilapidated Swiss cottage, surrounded by a veranda on slender + wooden pillars, about which clung a few tendrils of withered creeper, + their stray ends still swinging from the recent wind, now momentarily + hushed as if listening for the coming of the rain. Access from the roadway + was by a rough wooden gate in the hedge. To the surprise of Agatha, who + had last seen this gate off its hinges and only attached to the post by a + rusty chain and padlock, it was now rehung and fastened by a new hasp. The + weather admitting of no delay to consider these repairs, she opened the + gate and hastened up the slope, followed by the troop of girls. Their + ascent ended with a rush, for the rain suddenly came down in torrents. + </p> + <p> + When they were safe under the veranda, panting, laughing, grumbling, or + congratulating themselves on having been so close to a place of shelter, + Miss Wilson observed, with some uneasiness, a spade—new, like the + hasp of the gate—sticking upright in a patch of ground that someone + had evidently been digging lately. She was about to comment on this sign + of habitation, when the door of the chalet was flung open, and Jane + screamed as a man darted out to the spade, which he was about to carry in + out of the wet, when he perceived the company under the veranda, and stood + still in amazement. He was a young laborer with a reddish-brown beard of a + week’s growth. He wore corduroy trousers and a linen-sleeved corduroy + vest; both, like the hasp and spade, new. A coarse blue shirt, with a + vulgar red-and-orange neckerchief, also new, completed his dress; and, to + shield himself from the rain, he held up a silk umbrella with a + silver-mounted ebony handle, which he seemed unlikely to have come by + honestly. Miss Wilson felt like a boy caught robbing an orchard, but she + put a bold face on the matter and said: + </p> + <p> + “Will you allow us to take shelter here until the rain is over?” + </p> + <p> + “For certain, your ladyship,” he replied, respectfully applying the spade + handle to his hair, which was combed down to his eyebrows. “Your ladyship + does me proud to take refuge from the onclemency of the yallovrments + beneath my ‘umble rooftree.” His accent was barbarous; and he, like a low + comedian, seemed to relish its vulgarity. As he spoke he came in among + them for shelter, and propped his spade against the wall of the chalet, + kicking the soil from his hobnailed blucher boots, which were new. + </p> + <p> + “I came out, honored lady,” he resumed, much at his ease, “to house my + spade, whereby I earn my living. What the pen is to the poet, such is the + spade to the working man.” He took the kerchief from his neck, wiped his + temples as if the sweat of honest toil were there, and calmly tied it on + again. + </p> + <p> + “If you’ll ‘scuse a remark from a common man,” he observed, “your ladyship + has a fine family of daughters.” + </p> + <p> + “They are not my daughters,” said Miss Wilson, rather shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Sisters, mebbe?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought they mout be, acause I have a sister myself. Not that I would + make bold for to dror comparisons, even in my own mind, for she’s only a + common woman—as common a one as ever you see. But few women rise + above the common. Last Sunday, in yon village church, I heard the minister + read out that one man in a thousand had he found, ‘but one woman in all + these,’ he says, ‘have I not found,’ and I thinks to myself, ‘Right you + are!’ But I warrant he never met your ladyship.” + </p> + <p> + A laugh, thinly disguised as a cough, escaped from Miss Carpenter. + </p> + <p> + “Young lady a-ketchin’ cold, I’m afeerd,” he said, with respectful + solicitude. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think the rain will last long?” said Agatha politely. + </p> + <p> + The man examined the sky with a weather-wise air for some moments. Then he + turned to Agatha, and replied humbly: “The Lord only knows, Miss. It is + not for a common man like me to say.” + </p> + <p> + Silence ensued, during which Agatha, furtively scrutinizing the tenant of + the chalet, noticed that his face and neck were cleaner and less sunburnt + than those of the ordinary toilers of Lyvern. His hands were hidden by + large gardening gloves stained with coal dust. Lyvern laborers, as a rule, + had little objection to soil their hands; they never wore gloves. Still, + she thought, there was no reason why an eccentric workman, insufferably + talkative, and capable of an allusion to the pen of the poet, should not + indulge himself with cheap gloves. But then the silk, silvermounted + umbrella— + </p> + <p> + “The young lady’s hi,” he said suddenly, holding out the umbrella, “is + fixed on this here. I am well aware that it is not for the lowest of the + low to carry a gentleman’s brolly, and I ask your ladyship’s pardon for + the liberty. I come by it accidental-like, and should be glad of a + reasonable offer from any gentleman in want of a honest article.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke two gentlemen, much in want of the article, as their clinging + wet coats showed, ran through the gateway and made for the chalet. + Fairholme arrived first, exclaiming: “Fearful shower!” and briskly turned + his back to the ladies in order to stand at the edge of the veranda and + shake the water out of his hat. Josephs came next, shrinking from the damp + contact of his own garments. He cringed to Miss Wilson, and hoped that she + had escaped a wetting. + </p> + <p> + “So far I have,” she replied. “The question is, how are we to get home?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s only a shower,” said Josephs, looking up cheerfully at the + unbroken curtain of cloud. “It will clear up presently.” + </p> + <p> + “It ain’t for a common man to set up his opinion again’ a gentleman wot + have profesh’nal knowledge of the heavens, as one may say,” said the man, + “but I would ‘umbly offer to bet my umbrellar to his wideawake that it + don’t cease raining this side of seven o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “That man lives here,” whispered Miss Wilson, “and I suppose he wants to + get rid of us.” + </p> + <p> + “H’m!” said Fairholme. Then, turning to the strange laborer with the air + of a person not to be trifled with, he raised his voice, and said: “You + live here, do you, my man?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, sir, by your good leave, if I may make so bold.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Jeff Smilash, sir, at your service.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “Brixtonbury, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Brixtonbury! Where’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, I don’t rightly know. If a gentleman like you, knowing + jography and such, can’t tell, how can I?” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to know where you were born, man. Haven’t you got common + sense?” + </p> + <p> + “Where could such a one as me get common sense, sir? Besides, I was only a + foundling. Mebbe I warn’s born at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I see you at church last Sunday?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I only come o’ Wensday.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let me see you there next Sunday,” said Fairholme shortly, turning + away from him. + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson looked at the weather, at Josephs, who was conversing with + Jane, and finally at Smilash, who knuckled his forehead without waiting to + be addressed. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a boy whom you can send to Lyvern to get us a conveyance—a + carriage? I will give him a shilling for his trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “A shilling!” said Smilash joyfully. “Your ladyship is a noble lady. Two + four-wheeled cabs. There’s eight on you.” + </p> + <p> + “There is only one cab in Lyvern,” said Miss Wilson. “Take this card to + Mr. Marsh, the jotmaster, and tell him the predicament we are in. He will + send vehicles.” + </p> + <p> + Smilash took the card and read it at a glance. He then went into the + chalet. Reappearing presently in a sou’wester and oilskins, he ran off + through the rain and vaulted over the gate with ridiculous elegance. No + sooner had he vanished than, as often happens to remarkable men, he became + the subject of conversation. + </p> + <p> + “A decent workman,” said Josephs. “A well-mannered man, considering his + class.” + </p> + <p> + “A born fool, though,” said Fairholme. + </p> + <p> + “Or a rogue,” said Agatha, emphasizing the suggestion by a glitter of her + eyes and teeth, whilst her schoolfellows, rather disapproving of her + freedom, stood stiffly dumb. “He told Miss Wilson that he had a sister, + and that he had been to church last Sunday, and he has just told you that + he is a foundling, and that he only came last Wednesday. His accent is put + on, and he can read, and I don’t believe he is a workman at all. Perhaps + he is a burglar, come down to steal the college plate.” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” said Miss Wilson gravely, “you must be very careful how you say + things of that kind.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is so obvious. His explanation about the umbrella was made up to + disarm suspicion. He handled it and leaned on it in a way that showed how + much more familiar it was to him than that new spade he was so anxious + about. And all his clothes are new.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said Fairholme, “but there is not much in all that. Workmen + nowadays ape gentlemen in everything. However, I will keep an eye on him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you so much,” said Agatha. Fairholme, suspecting mockery, + frowned, and Miss Wilson looked severely at the mocker. Little more was + said, except as to the chances—manifestly small—of the rain + ceasing, until the tops of a cab, a decayed mourning coach, and three + dripping hats were seen over the hedge. Smilash sat on the box of the + coach, beside the driver. When it stopped, he alighted, re-entered the + chalet without speaking, came out with the umbrella, spread it above Miss + Wilson’s head, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Now, if your ladyship will come with me, I will see you dry into the + stray, and then I’ll bring your honored nieces one by one.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall come last,” said Miss Wilson, irritated by his assumption that + the party was a family one. “Gertrude, you had better go first.” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me,” said Fairholme, stepping forward, and attempting to take the + umbrella. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, I shall not trouble you,” she said frostily, and tripped away + over the oozing field with Smilash, who held the umbrella over her with + ostentatious solicitude. In the same manner he led the rest to the + vehicles, in which they packed themselves with some difficulty. Agatha, + who came last but one, gave him threepence. + </p> + <p> + “You have a noble ‘art and an expressive hi, Miss,” he said, apparently + much moved. “Blessings on both! Blessings on both!” + </p> + <p> + He went back for Jane, who slipped on the wet grass and fell. He had to + put forth his strength as he helped her to rise. “Hope you ain’t sopped up + much of the rainfall, Miss,” he said. “You are a fine young lady for your + age. Nigh on twelve stone, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + She reddened and hurried to the cab, where Agatha was. But it was full; + and Jane, much against her will, had to get into the coach, considerably + diminishing the space left for Miss Wilson, to whom Smilash had returned. + </p> + <p> + “Now, dear lady,” he said, “take care you don’t slip. Come along.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson, ignoring the invitation, took a shilling from her purse. + </p> + <p> + “No, lady,” said Smilash with a virtuous air. “I am an honest man and have + never seen the inside of a jail except four times, and only twice for + stealing. Your youngest daughter—her with the expressive hi—have + paid me far beyond what is proper.” + </p> + <p> + “I have told you that these young ladies are not my daughters,” said Miss + Wilson sharply. “Why do you not listen to what is said to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be too hard on a common man, lady,” said Smilash submissively. “The + young lady have just given me three ‘arf-crowns.” + </p> + <p> + “Three half-crowns!” exclaimed Miss Wilson, angered at such extravagance. + </p> + <p> + “Bless her innocence, she don’t know what is proper to give to a low sort + like me! But I will not rob the young lady. ‘Arf-a-crown is no more nor is + fair for the job, and arf-a-crown will I keep, if agreeable to your noble + ladyship. But I give you back the five bob in trust for her. Have you ever + noticed her expressive hi?” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, sir. You had better keep the money now that you have got it.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot! Sell for five bob the high opinion your ladyship has of me! No, dear + lady; not likely. My father’s very last words to me was—” + </p> + <p> + “You said just now that you were a foundling,” said Fairholme. “What are + we to believe? Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “So I were, sir; but by mother’s side alone. Her ladyship will please to + take back the money, for keep it I will not. I am of the lower orders, and + therefore not a man of my word; but when I do stick to it, I stick like + wax.” + </p> + <p> + “Take it,” said Fairholme to Miss Wilson. “Take it, of course. Seven and + sixpence is a ridiculous sum to give him for what he has done. It would + only set him drinking.” + </p> + <p> + “His reverence says true, lady. The one ‘arfcrown will keep me comfortably + tight until Sunday morning; and more I do not desire.” + </p> + <p> + “Just a little less of your tongue, my man,” said Fairholme, taking the + two coins from him and handing them to Miss Wilson, who bade the clergymen + good afternoon, and went to the coach under the umbrella. + </p> + <p> + “If your ladyship should want a handy man to do an odd job up at the + college I hope you will remember me,” Smilash said as they went down the + slope. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know who I am, do you?” said Miss Wilson drily. + </p> + <p> + “All the country knows you, Miss, and worships you. I have few equals as a + coiner, and if you should require a medal struck to give away for good + behavior or the like, I think I could strike one to your satisfaction. And + if your ladyship should want a trifle of smuggled lace—” + </p> + <p> + “You had better be careful or you will get into trouble, I think,” said + Miss Wilson sternly. “Tell him to drive on.” + </p> + <p> + The vehicles started, and Smilash took the liberty of waving his hat after + them. Then he returned to the chalet, left the umbrella within, came out + again, locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and walked off through + the rain across the hill without taking the least notice of the astonished + parsons. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Miss Wilson, unable to contain her annoyance at Agatha’s + extravagance, spoke of it to the girls who shared the coach with her. But + Jane declared that Agatha only possessed threepence in the world, and + therefore could not possibly have given the man thirty times that sum. + When they reached the college, Agatha, confronted with Miss Wilson, opened + her eyes in wonder, and exclaimed, laughing: “I only gave him threepence. + He has sent me a present of four and ninepence!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Saturday at Alton College, nominally a half holiday, was really a whole + one. Classes in gymnastics, dancing, elocution, and drawing were held in + the morning. The afternoon was spent at lawn tennis, to which lady guests + resident in the neighborhood were allowed to bring their husbands, + brothers, and fathers—Miss Wilson being anxious to send her pupils + forth into the world free from the uncouth stiffness of schoolgirls + unaccustomed to society. + </p> + <p> + Late in October came a Saturday which proved anything but a holiday for + Miss Wilson. At half-past one, luncheon being over, she went out of doors + to a lawn that lay between the southern side of the college and a + shrubbery. Here she found a group of girls watching Agatha and Jane, who + were dragging a roller over the grass. One of them, tossing a ball about + with her racket, happened to drive it into the shrubbery, whence, to the + surprise of the company, Smilash presently emerged, carrying the ball, + blinking, and proclaiming that, though a common man, he had his feelings + like another, and that his eye was neither a stick nor a stone. He was + dressed as before, but his garments, soiled with clay and lime, no longer + looked new. + </p> + <p> + “What brings you here, pray?” demanded Miss Wilson. + </p> + <p> + “I was led into the belief that you sent for me, lady,” he replied. “The + baker’s lad told me so as he passed my ‘umble cot this morning. I thought + he were incapable of deceit.” + </p> + <p> + “That is quite right; I did send for you. But why did you not go round to + the servants’ hall?” + </p> + <p> + “I am at present in search of it, lady. I were looking for it when this + ball cotch me here” (touching his eye). “A cruel blow on the hi’ nat’rally + spires its vision and expression and makes a honest man look like a + thief.” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” said Miss Wilson, “come here.” + </p> + <p> + “My dooty to you, Miss,” said Smilash, pulling his forelock. + </p> + <p> + “This is the man from whom I had the five shillings, which he said you had + just given him. Did you do so?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. I only gave him threepence.” + </p> + <p> + “But I showed the money to your ladyship,” said Smilash, twisting his hat + agitatedly. “I gev it you. Where would the like of me get five shillings + except by the bounty of the rich and noble? If the young lady thinks I + hadn’t ort to have kep’ the tother ‘arfcrown, I would not object to its + bein’ stopped from my wages if I were given a job of work here. But—” + </p> + <p> + “But it’s nonsense,” said Agatha. “I never gave you three half-crowns.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you mout ‘a’ made a mistake. Pence is summat similar to + ‘arf-crowns, and the day were very dark.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t have,” said Agatha. “Jane had my purse all the earlier part of + the week, Miss Wilson, and she can tell you that there was only threepence + in it. You know that I get my money on the first of every month. It never + lasts longer than a week. The idea of my having seven and sixpence on the + sixteenth is ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “But I put it to you, Miss, ain’t it twice as ridiculous for me, a poor + laborer, to give up money wot I never got?” + </p> + <p> + Vague alarm crept upon Agatha as the testimony of her senses was + contradicted. “All I know is,” she protested, “that I did not give it to + you; so my pennies must have turned into half-crowns in your pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe so,” said Smilash gravely. “I’ve heard, and I know it for a fact, + that money grows in the pockets of the rich. Why not in the pockets of the + poor as well? Why should you be su’prised at wot ‘appens every day?” + </p> + <p> + “Had you any money of your own about you at the time?” + </p> + <p> + “Where could the like of me get money?—asking pardon for making so + bold as to catechise your ladyship.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know where you could get it,” said Miss Wilson testily; “I ask + you, had you any?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, lady, I disremember. I will not impose upon you. I disremember.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you’ve made a mistake,” said Miss Wilson, handing him back his + money. “Here. If it is not yours, it is not ours; so you had better keep + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep it! Oh, lady, but this is the heighth of nobility! And what shall I + do to earn your bounty, lady?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not my bounty: I give it to you because it does not belong to me, + and, I suppose, must belong to you. You seem to be a very simple man.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank your ladyship; I hope I am. Respecting the day’s work, now, lady; + was you thinking of employing a poor man at all?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you; I have no occasion for your services. I have also to give + you the shilling I promised you for getting the cabs. Here it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Another shillin’!” cried Smilash, stupefied. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Miss Wilson, beginning to feel very angry. “Let me hear no + more about it, please. Don’t you understand that you have earned it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a common man, and understand next to nothing,” he replied + reverently. “But if your ladyship would give me a day’s work to keep me + goin’, I could put up all this money in a little wooden savings bank I + have at home, and keep it to spend when sickness or odd age shall, in a + manner of speaking, lay their ‘ends upon me. I could smooth that grass + beautiful; them young ladies ‘ll strain themselves with that heavy roller. + If tennis is the word, I can put up nets fit to catch birds of paradise + in. If the courts is to be chalked out in white, I can draw a line so + straight that you could hardly keep yourself from erecting an equilateral + triangle on it. I am honest when well watched, and I can wait at table + equal to the Lord Mayor o’ London’s butler.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot employ you without a character,” said Miss Wilson, amused by his + scrap of Euclid, and wondering where he had picked it up. + </p> + <p> + “I bear the best of characters, lady. The reverend rector has known me + from a boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I was speaking to him about you yesterday,” said Miss Wilson, looking + hard at him, “and he says you are a perfect stranger to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen is so forgetful,” said Smilash sadly. “But I alluded to my + native rector—meaning the rector of my native village, Auburn. + ‘Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain,’ as the gentleman called + it.” + </p> + <p> + “That was not the name you mentioned to Mr. Fairholme. I do not recollect + what name you gave, but it was not Auburn, nor have I ever heard of any + such place.” + </p> + <p> + “Never read of sweet Auburn!” + </p> + <p> + “Not in any geography or gazetteer. Do you recollect telling me that you + have been in prison?” + </p> + <p> + “Only six times,” pleaded Smilash, his features working convulsively. + “Don’t bear too hard on a common man. Only six times, and all through + drink. But I have took the pledge, and kep’ it faithful for eighteen + months past.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson now set down the man as one of those keen, half-witted country + fellows, contemptuously styled originals, who unintentionally make + themselves popular by flattering the sense of sanity in those whose + faculties are better adapted to circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “You have a bad memory, Mr. Smilash,” she said good-humoredly. “You never + give the same account of yourself twice.” + </p> + <p> + “I am well aware that I do not express myself with exactability. Ladies + and gentlemen have that power over words that they can always say what + they mean, but a common man like me can’t. Words don’t come natural to + him. He has more thoughts than words, and what words he has don’t fit his + thoughts. Might I take a turn with the roller, and make myself useful + about the place until nightfall, for ninepence?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson, who was expecting more than her usual Saturday visitors, + considered the proposition and assented. “And remember,” she said, “that + as you are a stranger here, your character in Lyvern depends upon the use + you make of this opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “I am grateful to your noble ladyship. May your ladyship’s goodness sew up + the hole which is in the pocket where I carry my character, and which has + caused me to lose it so frequent. It’s a bad place for men to keep their + characters in; but such is the fashion. And so hurray for the glorious + nineteenth century!” + </p> + <p> + He took off his coat, seized the roller, and began to pull it with an + energy foreign to the measured millhorse manner of the accustomed laborer. + Miss Wilson looked doubtfully at him, but, being in haste, went indoors + without further comment. The girls mistrusting his eccentricity, kept + aloof. Agatha determined to have another and better look at him. Racket in + hand, she walked slowly across the grass and came close to him just as he, + unaware of her approach, uttered a groan of exhaustion and sat down to + rest. + </p> + <p> + “Tired already, Mr. Smilash?” she said mockingly. + </p> + <p> + He looked up deliberately, took off one of his washleather gloves, fanned + himself with it, displaying a white and fine hand, and at last replied, in + the tone and with the accent of a gentleman: + </p> + <p> + “Very.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha recoiled. He fanned himself without the least concern. + </p> + <p> + “You—you are not a laborer,” she said at last. + </p> + <p> + “Obviously not.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought not.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I tell on you,” she said, growing bolder as she recollected that + she was not alone with him. + </p> + <p> + “If you do I shall get out of it just as I got out of the half-crowns, and + Miss Wilson will begin to think that you are mad.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I really did not give you the seven and sixpence,” she said, + relieved. + </p> + <p> + “What is your own opinion?” he answered, taking three pennies from his + pocket, jingling them in his palm. “What is your name?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not tell you,” said Agatha with dignity. + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps you are right,” he said. “I would not + tell you mine if you asked me.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not the slightest intention of asking you.” + </p> + <p> + “No? Then Smilash shall do for you, and Agatha will do for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better take care.” + </p> + <p> + “Of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Of what you say, and—are you not afraid of being found out?” + </p> + <p> + “I am found out already—by you, and I am none the worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose the police find you out!” + </p> + <p> + “Not they. Besides, I am not hiding from the police. I have a right to + wear corduroy if I prefer it to broadcloth. Consider the advantages of it! + It has procured me admission to Alton College, and the pleasure of your + acquaintance. Will you excuse me if I go on with my rolling, just to keep + up appearances? I can talk as I roll.” + </p> + <p> + “You may, if you are fond of soliloquizing,” she said, turning away as he + rose. + </p> + <p> + “Seriously, Agatha, you must not tell the others about me.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not call me Agatha,” she said impetuously. “What shall I call you, + then?” + </p> + <p> + “You need not address me at all.” + </p> + <p> + “I need, and will. Don’t be ill-natured.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t know you. I wonder at your—” she hesitated at the word + which occurred to her, but, being unable to think of a better one, used it—“at + your cheek.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed, and she watched him take a couple of turns with the roller. + Presently, refreshing himself by a look at her, he caught her looking at + him, and smiled. His smile was commonplace in comparison with the one she + gave him in return, in which her eyes, her teeth, and the golden grain in + her complexion seemed to flash simultaneously. He stopped rolling + immediately, and rested his chin on the handle of the roller. + </p> + <p> + “If you neglect your work,” said she maliciously, “you won’t have the + grass ready when the people come.” + </p> + <p> + “What people?” he said, taken aback. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, lots of people. Most likely some who know you. There are visitors + coming from London: my guardian, my guardianess, their daughter, my + mother, and about a hundred more.” + </p> + <p> + “Four in all. What are they coming for? To see you?” + </p> + <p> + “To take me away,” she replied, watching for signs of disappointment on + his part. + </p> + <p> + They were at once forthcoming. “What the deuce are they going to take you + away for?” he said. “Is your education finished?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I have behaved badly, and I am going to be expelled.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again. “Come!” he said, “you are beginning to invent in the + Smilash manner. What have you done?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why I should tell you. What have you done?” + </p> + <p> + “I! Oh, I have done nothing. I am only an unromantic gentleman, hiding + from a romantic lady who is in love with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor thing,” said Agatha sarcastically. “Of course, she has proposed to + you, and you have refused.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I proposed, and she accepted. That is why I have to + hide.” + </p> + <p> + “You tell stories charmingly,” said Agatha. “Good-bye. Here is Miss + Carpenter coming to hear what we are taking about.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye. That story of your being expelled beats—Might a common + man make so bold as to inquire where the whitening machine is, Miss?” + </p> + <p> + This was addressed to Jane, who had come up with some of the others. + Agatha expected to see Smilash presently discovered, for his disguise now + seemed transparent; she wondered how the rest could be imposed on by it. + Two o’clock, striking just then, reminded her of the impending interview + with her guardian. A tremor shook her, and she felt a craving for some + solitary hiding-place in which to await the summons. But it was a point of + honor with her to appear perfectly indifferent to her trouble, so she + stayed with the girls, laughing and chatting as they watched Smilash + intently marking out the courts and setting up the nets. She made the + others laugh too, for her hidden excitement, sharpened by irrepressible + shootings of dread, stimulated her, and the romance of Smilash’s disguise + gave her a sensation of dreaming. Her imagination was already busy upon a + drama, of which she was the heroine and Smilash the hero, though, with the + real man before her, she could not indulge herself by attributing to him + quite as much gloomy grandeur of character as to a wholly ideal personage. + The plot was simple, and an old favorite with her. One of them was to love + the other and to die broken-hearted because the loved one would not + requite the passion. For Agatha, prompt to ridicule sentimentality in her + companions, and gifted with an infectious spirit of farce, secretly turned + for imaginative luxury to visions of despair and death; and often endured + the mortification of the successful clown who believes, whilst the public + roar with laughter at him, that he was born a tragedian. There was much in + her nature, she felt, that did not find expression in her popular + representation of the soldier in the chimney. + </p> + <p> + By three o’clock the local visitors had arrived, and tennis was proceeding + in four courts, rolled and prepared by Smilash. The two curates were + there, with a few lay gentlemen. Mrs. Miller, the vicar, and some mothers + and other chaperons looked on and consumed light refreshments, which were + brought out upon trays by Smilash, who had borrowed and put on a large + white apron, and was making himself officiously busy. + </p> + <p> + At a quarter past the hour a message came from Miss Wilson, requesting + Miss Wylie’s attendance. The visitors were at a loss to account for the + sudden distraction of the young ladies’ attention which ensued. Jane + almost burst into tears, and answered Josephs rudely when he innocently + asked what the matter was. Agatha went away apparently unconcerned, though + her hand shook as she put aside her racket. + </p> + <p> + In a spacious drawing-room at the north side of the college she found her + mother, a slight woman in widow’s weeds, with faded brown hair, and + tearful eyes. With her were Mrs. Jansenius and her daughter. The two elder + ladies kept severely silent whilst Agatha kissed them, and Mrs. Wylie + sniffed. Henrietta embraced Agatha effusively. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s Uncle John?” said Agatha. “Hasn’t he come?” + </p> + <p> + “He is in the next room with Miss Wilson,” said Mrs. Jansenius coldly. + “They want you in there.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought somebody was dead,” said Agatha, “you all look so funereal. + Now, mamma, put your handkerchief back again. If you cry I will give Miss + Wilson a piece of my mind for worrying you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Mrs. Wylie, alarmed. “She has been so nice!” + </p> + <p> + “So good!” said Henrietta. + </p> + <p> + “She has been perfectly reasonable and kind,” said Mrs. Jansenius. + </p> + <p> + “She always is,” said Agatha complacently. “You didn’t expect to find her + in hysterics, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” pleaded Mrs. Wylie, “don’t be headstrong and foolish.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she won’t; I know she won’t,” said Henrietta coaxingly. “Will you, + dear Agatha?” + </p> + <p> + “You may do as you like, as far as I am concerned,” said Mrs. Jansenius. + “But I hope you have more sense than to throw away your education for + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Your aunt is quite right,” said Mrs. Wylie. “And your Uncle John is very + angry with you. He will never speak to you again if you quarrel with Miss + Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not angry,” said Henrietta, “but he is so anxious that you should + get on well.” + </p> + <p> + “He will naturally be disappointed if you persist in making a fool of + yourself,” said Mrs. Jansenius. + </p> + <p> + “All Miss Wilson wants is an apology for the dreadful things you wrote in + her book,” said Mrs. Wylie. “You’ll apologize, dear, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course she will,” said Henrietta. + </p> + <p> + “I think you had better,” said Mrs. Jansenius. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I will,” said Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “That’s my own darling,” said Mrs. Wylie, catching her hand. + </p> + <p> + “And perhaps, again, I won’t.” + </p> + <p> + “You will, dear,” urged Mrs. Wylie, trying to draw Agatha, who passively + resisted, closer to her. “For my sake. To oblige your mother, Agatha. You + won’t refuse me, dearest?” + </p> + <p> + Agatha laughed indulgently at her parent, who had long ago worn out this + form of appeal. Then she turned to Henrietta, and said, “How is your caro + sposo? I think it was hard that I was not a bridesmaid.” + </p> + <p> + The red in Henrietta’s cheeks brightened. Mrs. Jansenius hastened to + interpose a dry reminder that Miss Wilson was waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she does not mind waiting,” said Agatha, “because she thinks you are + all at work getting me into a proper frame of mind. That was the + arrangement she made with you before she left the room. Mamma knows that I + have a little bird that tells me these things. I must say that you have + not made me feel any goody-goodier so far. However, as poor Uncle John + must be dreadfully frightened and uncomfortable, it is only kind to put an + end to his suspense. Good-bye!” And she went out leisurely. But she looked + in again to say in a low voice: “Prepare for something thrilling. I feel + just in the humor to say the most awful things.” She vanished, and + immediately they heard her tapping at the door of the next room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jansenius was indeed awaiting her with misgiving. Having discovered + early in his career that his dignified person and fine voice caused people + to stand in some awe of him, and to move him into the chair at public + meetings, he had grown so accustomed to deference that any approach to + familiarity or irreverence disconcerted him exceedingly. Agatha, on the + other hand, having from her childhood heard Uncle John quoted as wisdom + and authority incarnate, had begun in her tender years to scoff at him as + a pompous and purseproud city merchant, whose sordid mind was unable to + cope with her transcendental affairs. She had habitually terrified her + mother by ridiculing him with an absolute contempt of which only childhood + and extreme ignorance are capable. She had felt humiliated by his kindness + to her (he was a generous giver of presents), and, with the instinct of an + anarchist, had taken disparagement of his advice and defiance of his + authority as the signs wherefrom she might infer surely that her face was + turned to the light. The result was that he was a little tired of her + without being quite conscious of it; and she not at all afraid of him, and + a little too conscious of it. + </p> + <p> + When she entered with her brightest smile in full play, Miss Wilson and + Mr. Jansenius, seated at the table, looked somewhat like two culprits + about to be indicted. Miss Wilson waited for him to speak, deferring to + his imposing presence. But he was not ready, so she invited Agatha to sit + down. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Agatha sweetly. “Well, Uncle John, don’t you know me?” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard with regret from Miss Wilson that you have been very + troublesome here,” he said, ignoring her remark, though secretly put out + by it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agatha contritely. “I am so very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jansenius, who had been led by Miss Wilson to expect the utmost + contumacy, looked to her in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to think,” said Miss Wilson, conscious of Mr. Jansenius’s + movement, and annoyed by it, “that you may transgress over and over again, + and then set yourself right with us,” (Miss Wilson never spoke of offences + as against her individual authority, but as against the school community) + “by saying that you are sorry. You spoke in a very different tone at our + last meeting.” + </p> + <p> + “I was angry then, Miss Wilson. And I thought I had a grievance—everybody + thinks they have the same one. Besides, we were quarrelling—at least + I was; and I always behave badly when I quarrel. I am so very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “The book was a serious matter,” said Miss Wilson gravely. “You do not + seem to think so.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand Agatha to say that she is now sensible of the folly of her + conduct with regard to the book, and that she is sorry for it,” said Mr. + Jansenius, instinctively inclining to Agatha’s party as the stronger one + and the least dependent on him in a pecuniary sense. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen the book?” said Agatha eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “No. Miss Wilson has described what has occurred.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do let me get it,” she cried, rising. “It will make Uncle John scream + with laughing. May I, Miss Wilson?” + </p> + <p> + “There!” said Miss Wilson, indignantly. “It is this incorrigible flippancy + of which I have to complain. Miss Wylie only varies it by downright + insubordination.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jansenius too was scandalized. His fine color mounted at the idea of + his screaming. “Tut, tut!” he said, “you must be serious, and more + respectful to Miss Wilson. You are old enough to know better now, Agatha—quite + old enough.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha’s mirth vanished. “What have I said What have I done?” she asked, a + faint purple spot appearing in her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “You have spoken triflingly of—of the volume by which Miss Wilson + sets great store, and properly so.” + </p> + <p> + “If properly so, then why do you find fault with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come,” roared Mr. Jansenius, deliberately losing his temper as a + last expedient to subdue her, “don’t be impertinent, Miss.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha’s eyes dilated; evanescent flushes played upon her cheeks and neck; + she stamped with her heel. “Uncle John,” she cried, “if you dare to + address me like that, I will never look at you, never speak to you, nor + ever enter your house again. What do you know about good manners, that you + should call me impertinent? I will not submit to intentional rudeness; + that was the beginning of my quarrel with Miss Wilson. She told me I was + impertinent, and I went away and told her that she was wrong by writing it + in the fault book. She has been wrong all through, and I would have said + so before but that I wanted to be reconciled to her and to let bygones be + bygones. But if she insists on quarrelling, I cannot help it.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already explained to you, Mr. Jansenius,” said Miss Wilson, + concentrating her resentment by an effort to suppress it, “that Miss Wylie + has ignored all the opportunities that have been made for her to reinstate + herself here. Mrs. Miller and I have waived merely personal + considerations, and I have only required a simple acknowledgment of this + offence against the college and its rules.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not care that for Mrs. Miller,” said Agatha, snapping her fingers. + “And you are not half so good as I thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” said Mr. Jansenius, “I desire you to hold your tongue.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha drew a deep breath, sat down resignedly, and said: “There! I have + done. I have lost my temper; so now we have all lost our tempers.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no right to lose your temper, Miss,” said Mr. Jansenius, + following up a fancied advantage. + </p> + <p> + “I am the youngest, and the least to blame,” she replied. “There is + nothing further to be said, Mr. Jansenius,” said Miss Wilson, + determinedly. “I am sorry that Miss Wylie has chosen to break with us.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have not chosen to break with you, and I think it very hard that I + am to be sent away. Nobody here has the least quarrel with me except you + and Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller is annoyed because she mistook me for her + cat, as if that was my fault! And really, Miss Wilson, I don’t know why + you are so angry. All the girls will think I have done something infamous + if I am expelled. I ought to be let stay until the end of the term; and as + to the Rec—the fault book, you told me most particularly when I + first came that I might write in it or not just as I pleased, and that you + never dictated or interfered with what was written. And yet the very first + time I write a word you disapprove of, you expel me. Nobody will ever + believe now that the entries are voluntary.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson’s conscience, already smitten by the coarseness and absence of + moral force in the echo of her own “You are impertinent,” from the mouth + of Mr. Jansenius, took fresh alarm. “The fault book,” she said, “is for + the purpose of recording self-reproach alone, and is not a vehicle for + accusations against others.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure that neither Jane nor Gertrude nor I reproached ourselves + in the least for going downstairs as we did, and yet you did not blame us + for entering that. Besides, the book represented moral force—at + least you always said so, and when you gave up moral force, I thought an + entry should be made of that. Of course I was in a rage at the time, but + when I came to myself I thought I had done right, and I think so still, + though it would perhaps have been better to have passed it over.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say that I gave up moral force?” + </p> + <p> + “Telling people to leave the room is not moral force. Calling them + impertinent is not moral force.” + </p> + <p> + “You think then that I am bound to listen patiently to whatever you choose + to say to me, however unbecoming it may be from one in your position to + one in mine?” + </p> + <p> + “But I said nothing unbecoming,” said Agatha. Then, breaking off + restlessly, and smiling again, she said: “Oh, don’t let us argue. I am + very sorry, and very troublesome, and very fond of you and of the college; + and I won’t come back next term unless you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” said Miss Wilson, shaken, “these expressions of regard cost you + so little, and when they have effected their purpose, are so soon + forgotten by you, that they have ceased to satisfy me. I am very reluctant + to insist on your leaving us at once. But as your uncle has told you, you + are old and sensible enough to know the difference between order and + disorder. Hitherto you have been on the side of disorder, an element which + was hardly known here until you came, as Mrs. Trefusis can tell you. + Nevertheless, if you will promise to be more careful in future, I will + waive all past cause of complaint, and at the end of the term I shall be + able to judge as to your continuing among us.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha rose, beaming. “Dear Miss Wilson,” she said, “you are so good! I + promise, of course. I will go and tell mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Before they could add a word she had turned with a pirouette to the door, + and fled, presenting herself a moment later in the drawing-room to the + three ladies, whom she surveyed with a whimsical smile in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + “Well, dear?” said Mrs. Trefusis, caressingly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wylie stifled a sob and looked imploringly at her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I had no end of trouble in bringing them to reason,” said Agatha, after a + provoking pause. “They behaved like children, and I was like an angel. I + am to stay, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Blessings on you, my darling,” faltered Mrs. Wylie, attempting a kiss, + which Agatha dexterously evaded. + </p> + <p> + “I have promised to be very good, and studious, and quiet, and decorous in + future. Do you remember my castanet song, Hetty? + </p> + <p> + “‘Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! + lalalalalalalalalalala!’” + </p> + <p> + And she danced about the room, snapping her fingers instead of castanets. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be so reckless and wicked, my love,” said Mrs. Wylie. “You will + break your poor mother’s heart.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson and Mr. Jansenius entered just then, and Agatha became + motionless and gazed abstractedly at a vase of flowers. Miss Wilson + invited her visitors to join the tennis players. Mr. Jansenius looked + sternly and disappointedly at Agatha, who elevated her left eyebrow and + depressed her right simultaneously; but he, shaking his head to signify + that he was not to be conciliated by facial feats, however difficult or + contrary to nature, went out with Miss Wilson, followed by Mrs. Jansenius + and Mrs. Wylie. + </p> + <p> + “How is your Hubby?” said Agatha then, brusquely, to Henrietta. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Trefusis’s eyes filled with tears so quickly that, as she bent her + head to hide them, they fell, sprinkling Agatha’s hand. + </p> + <p> + “This is such a dear old place,” she began. “The associations of my + girlhood—” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter between you and Hubby?” demanded Agatha, interrupting + her. “You had better tell me, or I will ask him when I meet him.” + </p> + <p> + “I was about to tell you, only you did not give me time.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a most awful cram,” said Agatha. “But no matter. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta hesitated. Her dignity as a married woman, and the reality of + her grief, revolted against the shallow acuteness of the schoolgirl. But + she found herself no better able to resist Agatha’s domineering than she + had been in her childhood, and much more desirous of obtaining her + sympathy. Besides, she had already learnt to tell the story herself rather + than leave its narration to others, whose accounts did not, she felt, put + her case in the proper light. So she told Agatha of her marriage, her wild + love for her husband, his wild love for her, and his mysterious + disappearance without leaving word or sign behind him. She did not mention + the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Have you had him searched for?” said Agatha, repressing an inclination to + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “But where? Had I the remotest clue, I would follow him barefoot to the + end of the world.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you ought to search all the rivers—you would have to do + that barefoot. He must have fallen in somewhere, or fallen down some + place.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Do you think I should be here if I thought his life in danger? I + have reasons—I know that he is only gone away.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed! He took his portmanteau with him, did he? Perhaps he has gone + to Paris to buy you something nice and give you a pleasant surprise.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Henrietta dejectedly. “He knew that I wanted nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose he got tired of you and ran away.” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta’s peculiar scarlet blush flowed rapidly over her cheeks as she + flung Agatha’s arm away, exclaiming, “How dare you say so! You have no + heart. He adored me.” + </p> + <p> + “Bosh!” said Agatha. “People always grow tired of one another. I grow + tired of myself whenever I am left alone for ten minutes, and I am certain + that I am fonder of myself than anyone can be of another person.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you are,” said Henrietta, pained and spiteful. “You have always + been particularly fond of yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely he resembles me in that respect. In that case he will grow + tired of himself and come back, and you will both coo like turtle doves + until he runs away again. Ugh! Serve you right for getting married. I + wonder how people can be so mad as to do it, with the example of their + married acquaintances all warning them against it.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know what it is to love,” said Henrietta, plaintively, and yet + patronizingly. “Besides, we were not like other couples.” + </p> + <p> + “So it seems. But never mind, take my word for it, he will return to you + as soon as he has had enough of his own company. Don’t worry thinking + about him, but come and have a game at lawn tennis.” + </p> + <p> + During this conversation they had left the drawing-room and made a detour + through the grounds. They were now approaching the tennis courts by a path + which wound between two laurel hedges through the shrubbery. Meanwhile, + Smilash, waiting on the guests in his white apron and gloves (which he had + positively refused to take off, alleging that he was a common man, with + common hands such as born ladies and gentlemen could not be expected to + take meat and drink from), had behaved himself irreproachably until the + arrival of Miss Wilson and her visitors, which occurred as he was + returning to the table with an empty tray, moving so swiftly that he + nearly came into collision with Mrs. Jansenius. Instead of apologizing, he + changed countenance, hastily held up the tray like a shield before his + face, and began to walk backward from her, stumbling presently against + Miss Lindsay, who was running to return a ball. Without heeding her angry + look and curt rebuke, he half turned, and sidled away into the shrubbery, + whence the tray presently rose into the air, flew across the laurel hedge, + and descended with a peal of stage thunder on the stooped shoulders of + Josephs. Miss Wilson, after asking the housekeeper with some asperity why + she had allowed that man to interfere in the attendance, explained to the + guests that he was the idiot of the countryside. Mr. Jansenius laughed, + and said that he had not seen the man’s face, but that his figure reminded + him forcibly of some one; he could not just then recollect exactly whom. + </p> + <p> + Smilash, making off through the shrubbery, found the end of his path + blocked by Agatha and a young lady whose appearance alarmed him more than + had that of Mrs. Jansenius. He attempted to force his tray through the + hedge, but in vain; the laurel was impenetrable, and the noise he made + attracted the attention of the approaching couple. He made no further + effort to escape, but threw his borrowed apron over his head and stood + bolt upright with his back against the bushes. + </p> + <p> + “What is that man doing there?” said Henrietta, stopping mistrustfully. + </p> + <p> + Agatha laughed, and said loudly, so that he might hear: “It is only a + harmless madman that Miss Wilson employs. He is fond of disguising himself + in some silly way and trying to frighten us. Don’t be afraid. Come on.” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta hung back, but her arm was linked in Agatha’s, and she was drawn + along in spite of herself. Smilash did not move. Agatha strolled on + coolly, and as she passed him, adroitly caught the apron between her + finger and thumb and twitched it from his face. Instantly Henrietta + uttered a piercing scream, and Smilash caught her in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Quick,” he said to Agatha, “she is fainting. Run for some water. Run!” + And he bent over Henrietta, who clung to him frantically. Agatha, + bewildered by the effect of her practical joke, hesitated a moment, and + then ran to the lawn. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” said Fairholme. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. I want some water—quick, please. Henrietta has fainted in + the shrubbery, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “Please do not stir,” said Miss Wilson authoritatively, “you will crowd + the path and delay useful assistance. Miss Ward, kindly get some water and + bring it to us. Agatha, come with me and point out where Mrs. Trefusis is. + You may come too, Miss Carpenter; you are so strong. The rest will please + remain where they are.” + </p> + <p> + Followed by the two girls, she hurried into the shrubbery, where Mr. + Jansenius was already looking anxiously for his daughter. He was the only + person they found there. Smilash and Henrietta were gone. + </p> + <p> + At first the seekers, merely puzzled, did nothing but question Agatha + incredulously as to the exact spot on which Henrietta had fallen. But Mr. + Jansenius soon made them understand that the position of a lady in the + hands of a half-witted laborer was one of danger. His agitation infected + them, and when Agatha endeavored to reassure him by declaring that Smilash + was a disguised gentleman, Miss Wilson, supposing this to be a mere + repetition of her former idle conjecture, told her sharply to hold her + tongue, as the time was not one for talking nonsense. The news now spread + through the whole company, and the excitement became intense. Fairholme + shouted for volunteers to make up a searching party. All the men present + responded, and they were about to rush to the college gates in a body when + it Occurred to the cooler among them that they had better divide into + several parties, in order that search might be made at once in different + quarters. Ten minutes of confusion followed. Mr. Jansenius started several + times in quest of Henrietta, and, when he had gone a few steps, returned + and begged that no more time should be wasted. Josephs, whose faith was + simple, retired to pray, and did good, as far as it went, by withdrawing + one voice from the din of plans, objections, and suggestions which the + rest were making; each person trying to be heard above the others. + </p> + <p> + At last Miss Wilson quelled the prevailing anarchy. Servants were sent to + alarm the neighbors and call in the village police. Detachments were sent + in various directions under the command of Fairholme and other energetic + spirits. The girls formed parties among themselves, which were reinforced + by male deserters from the previous levies. Miss Wilson then went indoors + and conducted a search through the interior of the college. Only two + persons were left on the tennis ground—Agatha and Mrs. Jansenius, + who had been surprisingly calm throughout. + </p> + <p> + “You need not be anxious,” said Agatha, who had been standing aloof since + her rebuff by Miss Wilson. “I am sure there is no danger. It is most + extraordinary that they have gone away; but the man is no more mad than I + am, and I know he is a gentleman He told me so.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope for the best,” said Mrs. Jansenius, smoothly. “I think I will + sit down—I feel so tired. Thanks.” (Agatha had handed her a chair.) + “What did you say he told you—this man?” + </p> + <p> + Agatha related the circumstances of her acquaintance with Smilash, adding, + at Mrs. Jansenius’s request, a minute description of his personal + appearance. Mrs. Jansenius remarked that it was very singular, and that + she was sure Henrietta was quite safe. She then partook of claret-cup and + sandwiches. Agatha, though glad to find someone disposed to listen to her, + was puzzled by her aunt’s coolness, and was even goaded into pointing out + that though Smilash was not a laborer, it did not follow that he was an + honest man. But Mrs. Jansenius only said: “Oh, she is safe—quite + safe! At least, of course, I can only hope so. We shall have news + presently,” and took another sandwich. + </p> + <p> + The searchers soon began to return, baffled. A few shepherds, the only + persons in the vicinity, had been asked whether they had seen a young lady + and a laborer. Some of them had seen a young woman with a basket of + clothes, if that mout be her. Some thought that Phil Martin the carrier + would see her if anybody would. None of them had any positive information + to give. + </p> + <p> + As the afternoon wore on, and party after party returned tired and + unsuccessful, depression replaced excitement; conversation, no longer + tumultuous, was carried on in whispers, and some of the local visitors + slipped away to their homes with a growing conviction that something + unpleasant had happened, and that it would be as well not to be mixed up + in it. Mr. Jansenius, though a few words from his wife had surprised and + somewhat calmed him, was still pitiably restless and uneasy. + </p> + <p> + At last the police arrived. At sight of their uniforms excitement revived; + there was a general conviction that something effectual would be done now. + But the constables were only mortal, and in a few moments a whisper spread + that they were fooled. They doubted everything told them, and expressed + their contempt for amateur searching by entering on a fresh investigation, + prying with the greatest care into the least probable places. Two of them + went off to the chalet to look for Smilash. Then Fairholme, sunburnt, + perspiring, and dusty, but still energetic, brought back the exhausted + remnant of his party, with a sullen boy, who scowled defiantly at the + police, evidently believing that he was about to be delivered into their + custody. + </p> + <p> + Fairholme had been everywhere, and, having seen nothing of the missing + pair, had come to the conclusion that they were nowhere. He had asked + everybody for information, and had let them know that he meant to have it + too, if it was to be had. But it was not to be had. The sole resort of his + labor was the evidence of the boy whom he didn’t believe. + </p> + <p> + “‘Im!” said the inspector, not quite pleased by Fairholme’s zeal, and yet + overborne by it. “You’re Wickens’s boy, ain’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am Wickens’s boy,” said the witness, partly fierce, partly + lachrymose, “and I say I seen him, and if anyone sez I didn’t see him, + he’s a lie.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said the inspector sharply, “give us none of your cheek, but tell + us what you saw, or you’ll have to deal with me afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care who I deal with,” said the boy, at bay. “I can’t be took for + seein’ him, because there’s no lor agin it. I was in the gravel pit in the + canal meadow—” + </p> + <p> + “What business had you there?” said the inspector, interrupting. + </p> + <p> + “I got leave to be there,” said the boy insolently, but reddening. + </p> + <p> + “Who gave you leave?” said the inspector, collaring him. “Ah,” he added, + as the captive burst into tears, “I told you you’d have to deal with me. + Now hold your noise, and remember where you are and who you’re speakin’ + to; and perhaps I mayn’t lock you up this time. Tell me what you saw when + you were trespassin’ in the meadow.” + </p> + <p> + “I sor a young ‘omen and a man. And I see her kissin’ him; and the + gentleman won’t believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you saw him kissing her, more likely.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t. I know wot it is to have a girl kiss you when you don’t + want. And I gev a screech to friken ‘em. And he called me and gev me + tuppence, and sez, ‘You go to the devil,’ he sez, ‘and don’t tell no one + you seen me here, or else,’ he sez, ‘I might be tempted to drownd you,’ he + sez, ‘and wot a shock that would be to your parents!’ ‘Oh, yes, very + likely,’ I sez, jes’ like that. Then I went away, because he knows Mr. + Wickens, and I was afeerd of his telling on me.” + </p> + <p> + The boy being now subdued, questions were put to him from all sides. But + his powers of observation and description went no further. As he was + anxious to propitiate his captors, he answered as often as possible in the + affirmative. Mr. Jansenius asked him whether the young woman he had seen + was a lady, and he said yes. Was the man a laborer? Yes—after a + moment’s hesitation. How was she dressed? He hadn’t taken notice. Had she + red flowers in her hat? Yes. Had she a green dress? Yes. Were the flowers + in her hat yellow? (Agatha’s question.) Yes. Was her dress pink? Yes. Sure + it wasn’t black? No answer. + </p> + <p> + “I told you he was a liar,” said Fairholme contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I expect he’s seen something,” said the inspector, “but what it + was, or who it was, is more than I can get out of him.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, and they looked askance upon Wickens’s boy. His account + of the kissing made it almost an insult to the Janseniuses to identify + with Henrietta the person he had seen. Jane suggested dragging the canal, + but was silenced by an indignant “sh-sh-sh,” accompanied by apprehensive + and sympathetic glances at the bereaved parents. She was displaced from + the focus of attention by the appearance of the two policemen who had been + sent to the chalet. Smilash was between them, apparently a prisoner. At a + distance, he seemed to have suffered some frightful injury to his head, + but when he was brought into the midst of the company it appeared that he + had twisted a red handkerchief about his face as if to soothe a toothache. + He had a particularly hangdog expression as he stood before the inspector + with his head bowed and his countenance averted from Mr. Jansenius, who, + attempting to scrutinize his features, could see nothing but a patch of + red handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + One of the policemen described how they had found Smilash in the act of + entering his dwelling; how he had refused to give any information or to go + to the college, and had defied them to take him there against his will; + and how, on their at last proposing to send for the inspector and Mr. + Jansenius, he had called them asses, and consented to accompany them. The + policeman concluded by declaring that the man was either drunk or + designing, as he could not or would not speak sensibly. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, governor,” began Smilash to the inspector, “I am a common man—no + commoner goin’, as you may see for—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s ‘im,” cried Wickens’s boy, suddenly struck with a sense of his own + importance as a witness. “That’s ‘im that the lady kissed, and that gev me + tuppence and threatened to drownd me.” + </p> + <p> + “And with a ‘umble and contrite ‘art do I regret that I did not drownd + you, you young rascal,” said Smilash. “It ain’t manners to interrupt a man + who, though common, might be your father for years and wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue,” said the inspector to the boy. “Now, Smilash, do you + wish to make any statement? Be careful, for whatever you say may be used + against you hereafter.” + </p> + <p> + “If you was to lead me straight away to the scaffold, colonel, I could + tell you no more than the truth. If any man can say that he has heard Jeff + Smilash tell a lie, let him stand forth.” + </p> + <p> + “We don’t want to hear about that,” said the inspector. “As you are a + stranger in these parts, nobody here knows any bad of you. No more do they + know any good of you neither.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel,” said Smilash, deeply impressed, “you have a penetrating mind, + and you know a bad character at sight. Not to deceive you, I am that given + to lying, and laziness, and self-indulgence of all sorts, that the only + excuse I can find for myself is that it is the nature of the race so to + be; for most men is just as bad as me, and some of ‘em worsen I do not + speak pers’nal to you, governor, nor to the honorable gentlemen here + assembled. But then you, colonel, are a hinspector of police, which I take + to be more than merely human; and as to the gentlemen here, a gentleman + ain’t a man—leastways not a common man—the common man bein’ + but the slave wot feeds and clothes the gentleman beyond the common.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said the inspector, unable to follow these observations, “you are + a clever dodger, but you can’t dodge me. Have you any statement to make + with reference to the lady that was last seen in your company?” + </p> + <p> + “Take a statement about a lady!” said Smilash indignantly. “Far be the + thought from my mind!” + </p> + <p> + “What have you done with her?” said Agatha, impetuously. “Don’t be silly.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not bound to answer that, you know,” said the inspector, a little + put out by Agatha’s taking advantage of her irresponsible unofficial + position to come so directly to the point. “You may if you like, though. + If you’ve done any harm, you’d better hold your tongue. If not, you’d + better say so.” + </p> + <p> + “I will set the young lady’s mind at rest respecting her honorable + sister,” said Smilash. “When the young lady caught sight of me she + fainted. Bein’ but a young man, and not used to ladies, I will not deny + but that I were a bit scared, and that my mind were not open to the + sensiblest considerations. When she unveils her orbs, so to speak, she + ketches me round the neck, not knowin’ me from Adam the father of us all, + and sez, ‘Bring me some water, and don’t let the girls see me.’ Through + not ‘avin’ the intelligence to think for myself, I done just what she told + me. I ups with her in my arms—she bein’ a light weight and a slender + figure—and makes for the canal as fast as I could. When I got there, + I lays her on the bank and goes for the water. But what with factories, + and pollutions, and high civilizations of one sort and another, English + canal water ain’t fit to sprinkle on a lady, much less for her to drink. + Just then, as luck would have it, a barge came along and took her aboard, + and—” + </p> + <p> + “To such a thing,” said Wickens’s boy stubbornly, emboldened by witnessing + the effrontery of one apparently of his own class. “I sor you two standin’ + together, and her a kissin’ of you. There worn’s no barge.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the maiden modesty of a born lady to be disbelieved on the word of a + common boy that only walks the earth by the sufferance of the landlords + and moneylords he helps to feed?” cried Smilash indignantly. “Why, you + young infidel, a lady ain’t made of common brick like you. She don’t know + what a kiss means, and if she did, is it likely that she’d kiss me when a + fine man like the inspector here would be only too happy to oblige her. + Fie, for shame! The barge were red and yellow, with a green dragon for a + figurehead, and a white horse towin’ of it. Perhaps you’re color-blind, + and can’t distinguish red and yellow. The bargee was moved to compassion + by the sight of the poor faintin’ lady, and the offer of ‘arf-a-crown, and + he had a mother that acted as a mother should. There was a cabin in that + barge about as big as the locker where your ladyship keeps your jam and + pickles, and in that locker the bargee lives, quite domestic, with his + wife and mother and five children. Them canal boats is what you may call + the wooden walls of England.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, get on with your story,” said the inspector. “We know what barges + is as well as you.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish more knew of ‘em,” retorted Smilash; “perhaps it ‘ud lighten your + work a bit. However, as I was sayin’, we went right down the canal to + Lyvern, where we got off, and the lady she took the railway omnibus and + went away in it. With the noble openhandedness of her class, she gave me + sixpence; here it is, in proof that my words is true. And I wish her safe + home, and if I was on the rack I could tell no more, except that when I + got back I were laid hands on by these here bobbies, contrary to the + British constitooshun, and if your ladyship will kindly go to where that + constitooshun is wrote down, and find out wot it sez about my rights and + liberties—for I have been told that the working-man has his + liberties, and have myself seen plenty took with him—you will oblige + a common chap more than his education will enable him to express.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” cried Mr. Jansenius suddenly, “will you hold up your head and look + me in the face?” + </p> + <p> + Smilash did so, and immediately started theatrically, exclaiming, “Whom do + I see?” + </p> + <p> + “You would hardly believe it,” he continued, addressing the company at + large, “but I am well beknown to this honorable gentleman. I see it upon + your lips, governor, to ask after my missus, and I thank you for your + condescending interest. She is well, sir, and my residence here is fully + agreed upon between us. What little cloud may have rose upon our domestic + horizon has past away; and, governor,”—-here Smilash’s voice fell + with graver emphasis—“them as interferes betwixt man and wife now + will incur a heavy responsibility. Here I am, such as you see me, and here + I mean to stay, likewise such as you see me. That is, if what you may call + destiny permits. For destiny is a rum thing, governor. I came here + thinking it was the last place in the world I should ever set eyes on you + in, and blow me if you ain’t a’most the first person I pops on.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not choose to be a party to this mummery of—” + </p> + <p> + “Asking your leave to take the word out of your mouth, governor, I make + you a party to nothink. Respecting my past conduct, you may out with it or + you may keep it to yourself. All I say is that if you out with some of it + I will out with the rest. All or none. You are free to tell the inspector + here that I am a bad ‘un. His penetrating mind have discovered that + already. But if you go into names and particulars, you will not only be + acting against the wishes of my missus, but you will lead to my tellin’ + the whole story right out afore everyone here, and then goin’ away where + no one won’t never find me.” + </p> + <p> + “I think the less said the better,” said Mrs. Jansenius, uneasily + observant of the curiosity and surprise this dialogue was causing. “But + understand this, Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “Smilash, dear lady; Jeff Smilash.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smilash, whatever arrangement you may have made with your wife, it + has nothing to do with me. You have behaved infamously, and I desire to + have as little as possible to say to you in future! I desire to have + nothing to say to you—nothing,” said Mr. Jansenius. “I look on your + conduct as an insult to me, personally. You may live in any fashion you + please, and where you please. All England is open to you except one place—my + house. Come, Ruth.” He offered his arm to his wife; she took it, and they + turned away, looking about for Agatha, who, disgusted at the gaping + curiosity of the rest, had pointedly withdrawn beyond earshot of the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson looked from Smilash—who had watched Mr. Jansenius’s + explosion of wrath with friendly interest, as if it concerned him as a + curious spectator only—to her two visitors as they retreated. “Pray, + do you consider this man’s statement satisfactory?” she said to them. “I + do not.” + </p> + <p> + “I am far too common a man to be able to make any statement that could + satisfy a mind cultivated as yours has been,” said Smilash, “but I would + ‘umbly pint out to you that there is a boy yonder with a telegram trying + to shove hisself through the ‘iborn throng.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson!” cried the boy shrilly. + </p> + <p> + She took the telegram; read it; and frowned. “We have had all our trouble + for nothing, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, with suppressed vexation. + “Mrs. Trefusis says here that she has gone back to London. She has not + considered it necessary to add any explanation.” + </p> + <p> + There was a general murmur of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t lose heart, ladies,” said Smilash. “She may be drowned or murdered + for all we know. Anyone may send a telegram in a false name. Perhaps it’s + a plant. Let’s hope for your sakes that some little accident—on the + railway, for instance—may happen yet.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson turned upon him, glad to find someone with whom she might + justly be angry. “You had better go about your business,” she said. “And + don’t let me see you here again.” + </p> + <p> + “This is ‘ard,” said Smilash plaintively. “My intentions was nothing but + good. But I know wot it is. It’s that young varmint a-saying that the + young lady kissed me.” + </p> + <p> + “Inspector,” said Miss Wilson, “will you oblige me by seeing that he + leaves the college as soon as possible?” + </p> + <p> + “Where’s my wages?” he retorted reproachfully. “Where’s my lawful wages? I + am su’prised at a lady like you, chock full o’ moral science and political + economy, wanting to put a poor man off. Where’s your wages fund? Where’s + your remuneratory capital?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you give him anything, ma’am,” said the inspector. “The money he’s + had from the lady will pay him very well. Move on here, or we’ll precious + soon hurry you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” grumbled Smilash. “I bargained for ninepence, and what with + the roller, and opening the soda water, and shoving them heavy tables + about, there was a decomposition of tissue in me to the tune of two + shillings. But all I ask is the ninepence, and let the lady keep the one + and threppence as the reward of abstinence. Exploitation of labor at the + rate of a hundred and twenty-five per cent., that is. Come, give us + ninepence, and I’ll go straight off.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is a shilling,” said Miss Wilson. “Now go.” + </p> + <p> + “Threppence change!” cried Smilash. “Honesty has ever been—” + </p> + <p> + “You may keep the change.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a noble ‘art, lady; but you’re flying in the face of the law of + supply and demand. If you keep payin’ at this rate, there’ll be a rush of + laborers to the college, and competition’ll soon bring you down from a + shilling to sixpence, let alone ninepence. That’s the way wages go down + and death rates goes up, worse luck for the likes of hus, as has to sell + ourselves like pigs in the market.” + </p> + <p> + He was about to continue when the policeman took him by the arm, turned + him towards the gate, and pointed expressively in that direction. Smilash + looked vacantly at him for a moment. Then, with a wink at Fairholme, he + walked gravely away, amid general staring and silence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + What had passed between Smilash and Henrietta remained unknown except to + themselves. Agatha had seen Henrietta clasping his neck in her arms, but + had not waited to hear the exclamation of “Sidney, Sidney,” which + followed, nor to see him press her face to his breast in his anxiety to + stifle her voice as he said, “My darling love, don’t screech I implore + you. Confound it, we shall have the whole pack here in a moment. Hush!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t leave me again, Sidney,” she entreated, clinging faster to him as + his perplexed gaze, wandering towards the entrance to the shrubbery, + seemed to forsake her. A din of voices in that direction precipitated his + irresolution. + </p> + <p> + “We must run away, Hetty,” he said “Hold fast about my neck, and don’t + strangle me. Now then.” He lifted her upon his shoulder and ran swiftly + through the grounds. When they were stopped by the wall, he placed her + atop of it, scrabbled over, and made her jump into his arms. Then he + staggered away with her across the fields, gasping out in reply to the + inarticulate remonstrances which burst from her as he stumbled and reeled + at every hillock, “Your weight is increasing at the rate of a stone a + second, my love. If you stoop you will break my back. Oh, Lord, here’s a + ditch!” + </p> + <p> + “Let me down,” screamed Henrietta in an ecstasy of delight and + apprehension. “You will hurt yourself, and—Oh, DO take—” + </p> + <p> + He struggled through a dry ditch as she spoke, and came out upon a grassy + place that bordered the towpath of the canal. Here, on the bank of a + hollow where the moss was dry and soft, he seated her, threw himself prone + on his elbows before her, and said, panting: + </p> + <p> + “Nessus carrying off Dejanira was nothing to this! Whew! Well, my darling, + are you glad to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “But me no buts, unless you wish me to vanish again and for ever. Wretch + that I am, I have longed for you unspeakably more than once since I ran + away from you. You didn’t care, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “I did. I did, indeed. Why did you leave me, Sidney?” + </p> + <p> + “Lest a worse thing might befall. Come, don’t let us waste in explanations + the few minutes we have left. Give me a kiss.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are going to leave me again. Oh, Sidney—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind to-morrow, Hetty. Be like the sun and the meadow, which are + not in the least concerned about the coming winter. Why do you stare at + that cursed canal, blindly dragging its load of filth from place to place + until it pitches it into the sea—just as a crowded street pitches + its load into the cemetery? Stare at ME, and give me a kiss.” + </p> + <p> + She gave him several, and said coaxingly, with her arm still upon his + shoulder: “You only talk that way to frighten me, Sidney; I know you do.” + </p> + <p> + “You are the bright sun of my senses,” he said, embracing her. “I feel my + heart and brain wither in your smile, and I fling them to you for your + prey with exultation. How happy I am to have a wife who does not despise + me for doing so—who rather loves me the more!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be silly,” said Henrietta, smiling vacantly. Then, stung by a half + intuition of his meaning, she repulsed him and said angrily, “YOU despise + ME.” + </p> + <p> + “Not more than I despise myself. Indeed, not so much; for many emotions + that seem base from within seem lovable from without.” + </p> + <p> + “You intend to leave me again. I feel it. I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “You think you know it because you feel it. Not a bad reason, either.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you ARE going to leave me?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not feel it and know it? Yes, my cherished Hetty, I assuredly am.” + </p> + <p> + She broke into wild exclamations of grief, and he drew her head down and + kissed her with a tender action which she could not resist, and a wry face + which she did not see. + </p> + <p> + “My poor Hetty, you don’t understand me.” + </p> + <p> + “I only understand that you hate me, and want to go away from me.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be easy to understand. But the strangeness is that I LOVE you + and want to go away from you. Not for ever. Only for a time.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t want you to go away. I won’t let you go away,” she said, a + trace of fierceness mingling with her entreaty. “Why do you want to leave + me if you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “How do I know? I can no more tell you the whys and wherefores of myself + than I can lift myself up by the waistband and carry myself into the next + county, as some one challenged a speculator in perpetual motion to do. I + am too much a pessimist to respect my own affections. Do you know what a + pessimist is?” + </p> + <p> + “A man who thinks everybody as nasty as himself, and hates them for it.” + </p> + <p> + “So, or thereabout. Modern English polite society, my native sphere, seems + to me as corrupt as consciousness of culture and absence of honesty can + make it. A canting, lie-loving, fact-hating, scribbling, chattering, + wealth-hunting, pleasure-hunting, celebrity-hunting mob, that, having lost + the fear of hell, and not replaced it by the love of justice, cares for + nothing but the lion’s share of the wealth wrung by threat of starvation + from the hands of the classes that create it. If you interrupt me with a + silly speech, Hetty, I will pitch you into the canal, and die of sorrow + for my lost love afterwards. You know what I am, according to the + conventional description: a gentleman with lots of money. Do you know the + wicked origin of that money and gentility?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Sidney; have you been doing anything?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my best beloved; I am a gentleman, and have been doing nothing. That + a man can do so and not starve is nowadays not even a paradox. Every + halfpenny I possess is stolen money; but it has been stolen legally, and, + what is of some practical importance to you, I have no means of restoring + it to the rightful owners even if I felt inclined to. Do you know what my + father was?” + </p> + <p> + “What difference can that make now? Don’t be disagreeable and full of + ridiculous fads, Sidney dear. I didn’t marry your father.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but you married—only incidentally, of course—my father’s + fortune. That necklace of yours was purchased with his money; and I can + almost fancy stains of blood.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Sidney. I don’t like this sort of romancing. It’s all nonsense. DO + be nice to me.” + </p> + <p> + “There are stains of sweat on it, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “You nasty wretch!” + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking, not of you, my dainty one, but of the unfortunate people + who slave that we may live idly. Let me explain to you why we are so rich. + My father was a shrewd, energetic, and ambitious Manchester man, who + understood an exchange of any sort as a transaction by which one man + should lose and the other gain. He made it his object to make as many + exchanges as possible, and to be always the gaining party in them. I do + not know exactly what he was, for he was ashamed both of his antecedents + and of his relatives, from which I can only infer that they were honest, + and, therefore, unsuccessful people. However, he acquired some knowledge + of the cotton trade, saved some money, borrowed some more on the security + of his reputation for getting the better of other people in business, and, + as he accurately told me afterwards, started FOR HIMSELF. He bought a + factory and some raw cotton. Now you must know that a man, by laboring + some time on a piece of raw cotton, can turn it into a piece of + manufactured cotton fit for making into sheets and shifts and the like. + The manufactured cotton is more valuable than the raw cotton, because the + manufacture costs wear and tear of machinery, wear and tear of the + factory, rent of the ground upon which the factory is built, and human + labor, or wear and tear of live men, which has to be made good by food, + shelter, and rest. Do you understand that?” + </p> + <p> + “We used to learn all about it at college. I don’t see what it has to do + with us, since you are not in the cotton trade.” + </p> + <p> + “You learned as much as it was thought safe to teach you, no doubt; but + not quite all, I should think. When my father started for himself, there + were many men in Manchester who were willing to labor in this way, but + they had no factory to work in, no machinery to work with, and no raw + cotton to work on, simply because all this indispensable plant, and the + materials for producing a fresh supply of it, had been appropriated by + earlier comers. So they found themselves with gaping stomachs, shivering + limbs, and hungry wives and children, in a place called their own country, + in which, nevertheless, every scrap of ground and possible source of + subsistence was tightly locked up in the hands of others and guarded by + armed soldiers and policemen. In this helpless condition, the poor devils + were ready to beg for access to a factory and to raw cotton on any + conditions compatible with life. My father offered them the use of his + factory, his machines, and his raw cotton on the following conditions: + They were to work long and hard, early and late, to add fresh value to his + raw cotton by manufacturing it. Out of the value thus created by them, + they were to recoup him for what he supplied them with: rent, shelter, + gas, water, machinery, raw cotton—everything, and to pay him for his + own services as superintendent, manager, and salesman. So far he asked + nothing but just remuneration. But after this had been paid, a balance due + solely to their own labor remained. ‘Out of this,’ said my father, ‘you + shall keep just enough to save you from starving, and of the rest you + shall make me a present to reward me for my virtue in saving money. Such + is the bargain I propose. It is, in my opinion, fair and calculated to + encourage thrifty habits. If it does not strike you in that light, you can + get a factory and raw cotton for yourselves; you shall not use mine.’ In + other words, they might go to the devil and starve—Hobson’s choice!—for + all the other factories were owned by men who offered no better terms. The + Manchesterians could not bear to starve or to see their children starve, + and so they accepted his terms and went into the factory. The terms, you + see, did not admit of their beginning to save for themselves as he had + done. Well, they created great wealth by their labor, and lived on very + little, so that the balance they gave for nothing to my father was large. + He bought more cotton, and more machinery, and more factories with it; + employed more men to make wealth for him, and saw his fortune increase + like a rolling snowball. He prospered enormously, but the work men were no + better off than at first, and they dared not rebel and demand more of the + money they had made, for there were always plenty of starving wretches + outside willing to take their places on the old terms. Sometimes he met + with a check, as, for instance, when, in his eagerness to increase his + store, he made the men manufacture more cotton than the public needed; or + when he could not get enough of raw cotton, as happened during the Civil + War in America. Then he adapted himself to circumstances by turning away + as many workmen as he could not find customers or cotton for; and they, of + course, starved or subsisted on charity. During the war-time a big + subscription was got up for these poor wretches, and my father subscribed + one hundred pounds, in spite, he said, of his own great losses. Then he + bought new machines; and, as women and children could work these as well + as men, and were cheaper and more docile, he turned away about seventy out + of every hundred of his HANDS (so he called the men), and replaced them by + their wives and children, who made money for him faster than ever. By this + time he had long ago given up managing the factories, and paid clever + fellows who had no money of their own a few hundreds a year to do it for + him. He also purchased shares in other concerns conducted on the same + principle; pocketed dividends made in countries which he had never visited + by men whom he had never seen; bought a seat in Parliament from a poor and + corrupt constituency, and helped to preserve the laws by which he had + thriven. Afterwards, when his wealth grew famous, he had less need to + bribe; for modern men worship the rich as gods, and will elect a man as + one of their rulers for no other reason than that he is a millionaire. He + aped gentility, lived in a palace at Kensington, and bought a part of + Scotland to make a deer forest of. It is easy enough to make a deer + forest, as trees are not necessary there. You simply drive off the + peasants, destroy their houses, and make a desert of the land. However, my + father did not shoot much himself; he generally let the forest out by the + season to those who did. He purchased a wife of gentle blood too, with the + unsatisfactory result now before you. That is how Jesse Trefusis, a poor + Manchester bagman, contrived to be come a plutocrat and gentleman of + landed estate. And also how I, who never did a stroke of work in my life, + am overburdened with wealth; whilst the children of the men who made that + wealth are slaving as their fathers slaved, or starving, or in the + workhouse, or on the streets, or the deuce knows where. What do you think + of that, my love?” + </p> + <p> + “What is the use of worrying about it, Sidney? It cannot be helped now. + Besides, if your father saved money, and the others were improvident, he + deserved to make a fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “Granted; but he didn’t make a fortune. He took a fortune that others + made. At Cambridge they taught me that his profits were the reward of + abstinence—the abstinence which enabled him to save. That quieted my + conscience until I began to wonder why one man should make another pay him + for exercising one of the virtues. Then came the question: what did my + father abstain from? The workmen abstained from meat, drink, fresh air, + good clothes, decent lodging, holidays, money, the society of their + families, and pretty nearly everything that makes life worth living, which + was perhaps the reason why they usually died twenty years or so sooner + than people in our circumstances. Yet no one rewarded them for their + abstinence. The reward came to my father, who abstained from none of these + things, but indulged in them all to his heart’s content. Besides, if the + money was the reward of abstinence, it seemed logical to infer that he + must abstain ten times as much when he had fifty thousand a year as when + he had only five thousand. Here was a problem for my young mind. Required, + something from which my father abstained and in which his workmen + exceeded, and which he abstained from more and more as he grew richer and + richer. The only thing that answered this description was hard work, and + as I never met a sane man willing to pay another for idling, I began to + see that these prodigious payments to my father were extorted by force. To + do him justice, he never boasted of abstinence. He considered himself a + hard-worked man, and claimed his fortune as the reward of his risks, his + calculations, his anxieties, and the journeys he had to make at all + seasons and at all hours. This comforted me somewhat until it occurred to + me that if he had lived a century earlier, invested his money in a horse + and a pair of pistols, and taken to the road, his object—that of + wresting from others the fruits of their labor without rendering them an + equivalent—would have been exactly the same, and his risk far + greater, for it would have included risk of the gallows. Constant + travelling with the constable at his heels, and calculations of the + chances of robbing the Dover mail, would have given him his fill of + activity and anxiety. On the whole, if Jesse Trefusis, M.P., who died a + millionaire in his palace at Kensington, had been a highwayman, I could + not more heartily loathe the social arrangements that rendered such a + career as his not only possible, but eminently creditable to himself in + the eyes of his fellows. Most men make it their business to imitate him, + hoping to become rich and idle on the same terms. Therefore I turn my back + on them. I cannot sit at their feasts knowing how much they cost in human + misery, and seeing how little they produce of human happiness. What is + your opinion, my treasure?” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta seemed a little troubled. She smiled faintly, and said + caressingly, “It was not your fault, Sidney. <i>I</i> don’t blame you.” + </p> + <p> + “Immortal powers!” he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and appealing to the + skies, “here is a woman who believes that the only concern all this causes + me is whether she thinks any the worse of me personally on account of it!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Sidney. It is not I alone. Nobody thinks the worse of you for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so,” he returned, in a polite frenzy. “Nobody sees any harm in it. + That is precisely the mischief of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” she urged, “your mother belonged to one of the oldest families + in England.” + </p> + <p> + “And what more can man desire than wealth with descent from a county + family! Could a man be happier than I ought to be, sprung as I am from + monopolists of all the sources and instruments of production—of land + on the one side, and of machinery on the other? This very ground on which + we are resting was the property of my mother’s father. At least the law + allowed him to use it as such. When he was a boy, there was a fairly + prosperous race of peasants settled here, tilling the soil, paying him + rent for permission to do so, and making enough out of it to satisfy his + large wants and their own narrow needs without working themselves to + death. But my grandfather was a shrewd man. He perceived that cows and + sheep produced more money by their meat and wool than peasants by their + husbandry. So he cleared the estate. That is, he drove the peasants from + their homes, as my father did afterwards in his Scotch deer forest. Or, as + his tombstone has it, he developed the resources of his country. I don’t + know what became of the peasants; HE didn’t know, and, I presume, didn’t + care. I suppose the old ones went into the workhouse, and the young ones + crowded the towns, and worked for men like my father in factories. Their + places were taken by cattle, which paid for their food so well that my + grandfather, getting my father to take shares in the enterprise, hired + laborers on the Manchester terms to cut that canal for him. When it was + made, he took toll upon it; and his heirs still take toll, and the sons of + the navvies who dug it and of the engineer who designed it pay the toll + when they have occasion to travel by it, or to purchase goods which have + been conveyed along it. I remember my grandfather well. He was a well-bred + man, and a perfect gentleman in his manners; but, on the whole, I think he + was wickeder than my father, who, after all, was caught in the wheels of a + vicious system, and had either to spoil others or be spoiled by them. But + my grandfather—the old rascal!—was in no such dilemma. Master + as he was of his bit of merry England, no man could have enslaved him, and + he might at least have lived and let live. My father followed his example + in the matter of the deer forest, but that was the climax of his + wickedness, whereas it was only the beginning of my grandfather’s. + Howbeit, whichever bears the palm, there they were, the types after which + we all strive.” + </p> + <p> + “Not all, Sidney. Not we two. I hate tradespeople and country squires. We + belong to the artistic and cultured classes, and we can keep aloof from + shopkeepers.” + </p> + <p> + “Living, meanwhile, at the rate of several thousand a year on rent and + interest. No, my dear, this is the way of those people who insist that + when they are in heaven they shall be spared the recollection of such a + place as hell, but are quite content that it shall exist outside their + consciousness. I respect my father more—I mean I despise him less—for + doing his own sweating and filching than I do the sensitive sluggards and + cowards who lent him their money to sweat and filch with, and asked no + questions provided the interest was paid punctually. And as to your + friends the artists, they are the worst of all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Sidney, you are determined not to be pleased. Artists don’t keep + factories.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but the factory is only a part of the machinery of the system. Its + basis is the tyranny of brain force, which, among civilized men, is + allowed to do what muscular force does among schoolboys and savages. The + schoolboy proposition is: ‘I am stronger than you, therefore you shall fag + for me.’ Its grown up form is: ‘I am cleverer than you, therefore you + shall fag for me.’ The state of things we produce by submitting to this, + bad enough even at first, becomes intolerable when the mediocre or foolish + descendants of the clever fellows claim to have inherited their + privileges. Now, no men are greater sticklers for the arbitrary dominion + of genius and talent than your artists. The great painter is not satisfied + with being sought after and admired because his hands can do more than + ordinary hands, which they truly can, but he wants to be fed as if his + stomach needed more food than ordinary stomachs, which it does not. A + day’s work is a day’s work, neither more nor less, and the man who does it + needs a day’s sustenance, a night’s repose, and due leisure, whether he be + painter or ploughman. But the rascal of a painter, poet, novelist, or + other voluptuary in labor, is not content with his advantage in popular + esteem over the ploughman; he also wants an advantage in money, as if + there were more hours in a day spent in the studio or library than in the + field; or as if he needed more food to enable him to do his work than the + ploughman to enable him to do his. He talks of the higher quality of his + work, as if the higher quality of it were of his own making—as if it + gave him a right to work less for his neighbor than his neighbor works for + him—as if the ploughman could not do better without him than he + without the ploughman—as if the value of the most celebrated + pictures has not been questioned more than that of any straight furrow in + the arable world—as if it did not take an apprenticeship of as many + years to train the hand and eye of a mason or blacksmith as of an artist—as + if, in short, the fellow were a god, as canting brain worshippers have for + years past been assuring him he is. Artists are the high priests of the + modern Moloch. Nine out of ten of them are diseased creatures, just sane + enough to trade on their own neuroses. The only quality of theirs which + extorts my respect is a certain sublime selfishness which makes them + willing to starve and to let their families starve sooner than do any work + they don’t like.” + </p> + <p> + “INDEED you are quite wrong, Sidney. There was a girl at the Slade school + who supported her mother and two sisters by her drawing. Besides, what can + you do? People were made so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I was made a landlord and capitalist by the folly of the people; but + they can unmake me if they will. Meanwhile I have absolutely no means of + escape from my position except by giving away my slaves to fellows who + will use them no better than I, and becoming a slave myself; which, if you + please, you shall not catch me doing in a hurry. No, my beloved, I must + keep my foot on their necks for your sake as well as for my own. But you + do not care about all this prosy stuff. I am consumed with remorse for + having bored my darling. You want to know why I am living here like a + hermit in a vulgar two-roomed hovel instead of tasting the delights of + London society with my beautiful and devoted young wife.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don’t intend to stay here, Sidney?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do; and I will tell you why. I am helping to liberate those + Manchester laborers who were my father’s slaves. To bring that about, + their fellow slaves all over the world must unite in a vast international + association of men pledged to share the world’s work justly; to share the + produce of the work justly; to yield not a farthing—charity apart—to + any full-grown and able-bodied idler or malingerer, and to treat as vermin + in the commonwealth persons attempting to get more than their share of + wealth or give less than their share of work. This is a very difficult + thing to accomplish, because working-men, like the people called their + betters, do not always understand their own interests, and will often + actually help their oppressors to exterminate their saviours to the tune + of ‘Rule Britannia,’ or some such lying doggerel. We must educate them out + of that, and, meanwhile, push forward the international association of + laborers diligently. I am at present occupied in propagating its + principles. Capitalism, organized for repressive purposes under pretext of + governing the nation, would very soon stop the association if it + understood our aim, but it thinks that we are engaged in gunpowder plots + and conspiracies to assassinate crowned heads; and so, whilst the police + are blundering in search of evidence of these, our real work goes on + unmolested. Whether I am really advancing the cause is more than I can + say. I use heaps of postage stamps, pay the expenses of many indifferent + lecturers, defray the cost of printing reams of pamphlets and hand-bills + which hail the laborer flatteringly as the salt of the earth, write and + edit a little socialist journal, and do what lies in my power generally. I + had rather spend my ill-gotten wealth in this way than upon an expensive + house and a retinue of servants. And I prefer my corduroys and my + two-roomed chalet here to our pretty little house, and your pretty little + ways, and my pretty little neglect of the work that my heart is set upon. + Some day, perhaps, I will take a holiday; and then we shall have a new + honeymoon.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Henrietta seemed about to cry. Suddenly she exclaimed with + enthusiasm: “I will stay with you, Sidney. I will share your work, + whatever it may be. I will dress as a dairymaid, and have a little pail to + carry milk in. The world is nothing to me except when you are with me; and + I should love to live here and sketch from nature.” + </p> + <p> + He blenched, and partially rose, unable to conceal his dismay. She, + resolved not to be cast off, seized him and clung to him. This was the + movement that excited the derision of Wickens’s boy in the adjacent gravel + pit. Trefusis was glad of the interruption; and, when he gave the boy + twopence and bade him begone, half hoped that he would insist on + remaining. But though an obdurate boy on most occasions, he proved + complaisant on this, and withdrew to the high road, where he made over one + of his pennies to a phantom gambler, and tossed with him until recalled + from his dual state by the appearance of Fairholme’s party. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, Henrietta urgently returned to her proposition. + </p> + <p> + “We should be so happy,” she said. “I would housekeep for you, and you + could work as much as you pleased. Our life would be a long idyll.” + </p> + <p> + “My love,” he said, shaking his head as she looked beseechingly at him, “I + have too much Manchester cotton in my constitution for long idylls. And + the truth is, that the first condition of work with me is your absence. + When you are with me, I can do nothing but make love to you. You bewitch + me. When I escape from you for a moment, it is only to groan remorsefully + over the hours you have tempted me to waste and the energy you have + futilized.” + </p> + <p> + “If you won’t live with me you had no right to marry me.” + </p> + <p> + “True. But that is neither your fault nor mine. We have found that we love + each other too much—that our intercourse hinders our usefulness—and + so we must part. Not for ever, my dear; only until you have cares and + business of your own to fill up your life and prevent you from wasting + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are mad,” she said petulantly. “The world is mad nowadays, + and is galloping to the deuce as fast as greed can goad it. I merely stand + out of the rush, not liking its destination. Here comes a barge, the + commander of which is devoted to me because he believes that I am + organizing a revolution for the abolition of lock dues and tolls. We will + go aboard and float down to Lyvern, whence you can return to London. You + had better telegraph from the junction to the college; there must be a hue + and cry out after us by this time. You shall have my address, and we can + write to one another or see one another whenever we please. Or you can + divorce me for deserting you.” + </p> + <p> + “You would like me to, I know,” said Henrietta, sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “I should die of despair, my darling,” he said complacently. “Ship + aho-o-o-y! Stop crying, Hetty, for God’s sake. You lacerate my very soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-oy, master!” roared the bargee. + </p> + <p> + “Good arternoon, sir,” said a man who, with a short whip in his hand, + trudged beside the white horse that towed the barge. “Come up!” he added + malevolently to the horse. + </p> + <p> + “I want to get on board, and go up to Lyvern with you,” said Trefusis. “He + seems a well fed brute, that.” + </p> + <p> + “Better fed nor me,” said the man. “You can’t get the work out of a + hunderfed ‘orse that you can out of a hunderfed man or woman. I’ve bin in + parts of England where women pulled the barges. They come cheaper nor + ‘orses, because it didn’t cost nothing to get new ones when the old ones + we wore out.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why not employ them?” said Trefusis, with ironical gravity. “The + principle of buying laborforce in the cheapest market and selling its + product in the dearest has done much to make Englishmen—what they + are.” + </p> + <p> + “The railway comp’nies keeps ‘orspittles for the like of ‘IM,” said the + man, with a cunning laugh, indicating the horse by smacking him on the + belly with the butt of the whip. “If ever you try bein’ a laborer in + earnest, governor, try it on four legs. You’ll find it far preferable to + trying on two.” + </p> + <p> + “This man is one of my converts,” said Trefusis apart to Henrietta. “He + told me the other day that since I set him thinking he never sees a + gentleman without feeling inclined to heave a brick at him. I find that + socialism is often misunderstood by its least intelligent supporters and + opponents to mean simply unrestrained indulgence of our natural propensity + to heave bricks at respectable persons. Now I am going to carry you along + this plank. If you keep quiet, we may reach the barge. If not, we shall + reach the bottom of the canal.” + </p> + <p> + He carried her safely over, and exchanged some friendly words with the + bargee. Then he took Henrietta forward, and stood watching the water as + they were borne along noiselessly between the hilly pastures of the + country. + </p> + <p> + “This would be a fairy journey,” he said, “if one could forget the woman + down below, cooking her husband’s dinner in a stifling hole about as big + as your wardrobe, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t talk any more of these things,” she said crossly; “I cannot + help them. I have my own troubles to think of. HER husband lives with + her.” + </p> + <p> + “She will change places with you, my dear, if you make her the offer.” + </p> + <p> + She had no answer ready. After a pause he began to speak poetically of the + scenery and to offer her loverlike speeches and compliments. But she felt + that he intended to get rid of her, and he knew that it was useless to try + to hide that design from her. She turned away and sat down on a pile of + bricks, only writhing angrily when he pressed her for a word. As they + neared the end of her voyage, and her intense protest against desertion + remained, as she thought, only half expressed, her sense of injury grew + almost unbearable. + </p> + <p> + They landed on a wharf, and went through an unswept, deeply-rutted lane up + to the main street of Lyvern. Here he became Smilash again, walking + deferentially a little before her, as if she had hired him to point out + the way. She then saw that her last opportunity of appealing to him had + gone by, and she nearly burst into tears at the thought. It occurred to + her that she might prevail upon him by making a scene in public. But the + street was a busy one, and she was a little afraid of him. Neither + consideration would have checked her in one of her ungovernable moods, but + now she was in an abject one. Her moods seemed to come only when they were + harmful to her. She suffered herself to be put into the railway omnibus, + which was on the point of starting from the innyard when they arrived + there, and though he touched his hat, asked whether she had any message to + give him, and in a tender whisper wished her a safe journey, she would not + look at or speak to him. So they parted, and he returned alone to the + chalet, where he was received by the two policemen who subsequently + brought him to the college. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + The year wore on, and the long winter evenings set in. The studious young + ladies at Alton College, elbows on desk and hands over ears, shuddered + chillily in fur tippets whilst they loaded their memories with the + statements of writers on moral science, or, like men who swim upon corks, + reasoned out mathematical problems upon postulates. Whence it sometimes + happened that the more reasonable a student was in mathematics, the more + unreasonable she was in the affairs of real life, concerning which few + trustworthy postulates have yet been ascertained. + </p> + <p> + Agatha, not studious, and apt to shiver in winter, began to break Rule No. + 17 with increasing frequency. Rule No. 17 forbade the students to enter + the kitchen, or in any way to disturb the servants in the discharge of + their duties. Agatha broke it because she was fond of making toffee, of + eating it, of a good fire, of doing any forbidden thing, and of the + admiration with which the servants listened to her ventriloquial and + musical feats. Gertrude accompanied her because she too liked toffee, and + because she plumed herself on her condescension to her inferiors. Jane + went because her two friends went, and the spirit of adventure, the force + of example, and the love of toffee often brought more volunteers to these + expeditions than Agatha thought it safe to enlist. One evening Miss + Wilson, going downstairs alone to her private wine cellar, was arrested + near the kitchen by sounds of revelry, and, stopping to listen, overheard + the castanet dance (which reminded her of the emphasis with which Agatha + had snapped her fingers at Mrs. Miller), the bee on the window pane, + “Robin Adair” (encored by the servants), and an imitation of herself in + the act of appealing to Jane Carpenter’s better nature to induce her to + study for the Cambridge Local. She waited until the cold and her fear of + being discovered spying forced her to creep upstairs, ashamed of having + enjoyed a silly entertainment, and of conniving at a breach of the rules + rather than face a fresh quarrel with Agatha. + </p> + <p> + There was one particular in which matters between Agatha and the college + discipline did not go on exactly as before. Although she had formerly + supplied a disproportionately large number of the confessions in the fault + book, the entry which had nearly led to her expulsion was the last she + ever made in it. Not that her conduct was better—it was rather the + reverse. Miss Wilson never mentioned the matter, the fault book being + sacred from all allusion on her part. But she saw that though Agatha would + not confess her own sins, she still assisted others to unburden their + consciences. The witticisms with which Jane unsuspectingly enlivened the + pages of the Recording Angel were conclusive on this point. + </p> + <p> + Smilash had now adopted a profession. In the last days of autumn he had + whitewashed the chalet, painted the doors, windows, and veranda, repaired + the roof and interior, and improved the place so much that the landlord + had warned him that the rent would be raised at the expiration of his + twelvemonth’s tenancy, remarking that a tenant could not reasonably expect + to have a pretty, rain-tight dwelling-house for the same money as a hardly + habitable ruin. Smilash had immediately promised to dilapidate it to its + former state at the end of the year. He had put up a board at the gate + with an inscription copied from some printed cards which he presented to + persons who happened to converse with him. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + JEFFERSON SMILASH + </p> + <p> + PAINTER, DECORATOR, GLAZIER, PLUMBER & GARDENER. Pianofortes tuned. + Domestic engineering in all its Branches. Families waited upon at table or + otherwise. + </p> + <p> + CHAMOUNIX VILLA, LYVERN. (N.B. Advice Gratis. No Reasonable offer + refused.) + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The business thus announced, comprehensive as it was, did not flourish. + When asked by the curious for testimony to his competence and + respectability, he recklessly referred them to Fairholme, to Josephs, and + in particular to Miss Wilson, who, he said, had known him from his + earliest childhood. Fairholme, glad of an opportunity to show that he was + no mealy mouthed parson, declared, when applied to, that Smilash was the + greatest rogue in the country. Josephs, partly from benevolence, and + partly from a vague fear that Smilash might at any moment take an action + against him for defamation of character, said he had no doubt that he was + a very cheap workman, and that it would be a charity to give him some + little job to encourage him. Miss Wilson confirmed Fairholme’s account; + and the church organist, who had tuned all the pianofortes in the + neighborhood once a year for nearly a quarter of a century, denounced the + newcomer as Jack of all trades and master of none. Hereupon the radicals + of Lyvern, a small and disreputable party, began to assert that there was + no harm in the man, and that the parsons and Miss Wilson, who lived in a + fine house and did nothing but take in the daughters of rich swells as + boarders, might employ their leisure better than in taking the bread out + of a poor work man’s mouth. But as none of this faction needed the + services of a domestic engineer, he was none the richer for their support, + and the only patron he obtained was a housemaid who was leaving her + situation at a country house in the vicinity, and wanted her box repaired, + the lid having fallen off. Smilash demanded half-a-crown for the job, but + on her demurring, immediately apologized and came down to a shilling. For + this sum he repainted the box, traced her initials on it, and affixed new + hinges, a Bramah lock, and brass handles, at a cost to himself of ten + shillings and several hours’ labor. The housemaid found fault with the + color of the paint, made him take off the handles, which, she said, + reminded her of a coffin, complained that a lock with such a small key + couldn’t be strong enough for a large box, but admitted that it was all + her own fault for not employing a proper man. It got about that he had + made a poor job of the box; and as he, when taxed with this, emphatically + confirmed it, he got no other commission; and his signboard served + thenceforth only for the amusement of pedestrian tourists and of shepherd + boys with a taste for stone throwing. + </p> + <p> + One night a great storm blew over Lyvern, and those young ladies at Alton + College who were afraid of lightning, said their prayers with some + earnestness. At half-past twelve the rain, wind, and thunder made such a + din that Agatha and Gertrude wrapped themselves in shawls, stole + downstairs to the window on the landing outside Miss Wilson’s study, and + stood watching the flashes give vivid glimpses of the landscape, and + discussing in whispers whether it was dangerous to stand near a window, + and whether brass stair-rods could attract lightning. Agatha, as serious + and friendly with a single companion as she was mischievous and satirical + before a larger audience, enjoyed the scene quietly. The lightning did not + terrify her, for she knew little of the value of life, and fancied much + concerning the heroism of being indifferent to it. The tremors which the + more startling flashes caused her, only made her more conscious of her own + courage and its contrast with the uneasiness of Gertrude, who at last, + shrinking from a forked zigzag of blue flame, said: + </p> + <p> + “Let us go back to bed, Agatha. I feel sure that we are not safe here.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite as safe as in bed, where we cannot see anything. How the house + shakes! I believe the rain will batter in the windows before—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” whispered Gertrude, catching her arm in terror. “What was that?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I heard the bell—the gate bell. Oh, do let us go back to + bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! Who would be out on such a night as this? Perhaps the wind rang + it.” + </p> + <p> + They waited for a few moments; Gertrude trembling, and Agatha feeling, as + she listened in the darkness, a sensation familiar to persons who are + afraid of ghosts. Presently a veiled clangor mingled with the wind. A few + sharp and urgent snatches of it came unmistakably from the bell at the + gate of the college grounds. It was a loud bell, used to summon a servant + from the college to open the gates; for though there was a porter’s lodge, + it was uninhabited. + </p> + <p> + “Who on earth can it be?” said Agatha. “Can’t they find the wicket, the + idiots?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope not! Do come upstairs, Agatha.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t. Go you, if you like.” But Gertrude was afraid to go alone. + “I think I had better waken Miss Wilson, and tell her,” continued Agatha. + “It seems awful to shut anybody out on such a night as this.” + </p> + <p> + “But we don’t know who it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I suppose you are not afraid of them, in any case,” said Agatha, + knowing the contrary, but recognizing the convenience of shaming Gertrude + into silence. + </p> + <p> + They listened again. The storm was now very boisterous, and they could not + hear the bell. Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the house door. + Gertrude screamed, and her cry was echoed from the rooms above, where + several girls had heard the knocking also, and had been driven by it into + the state of mind which accompanies the climax of a nightmare. Then a + candle flickered on the stairs, and Miss Wilson’s voice, reassuringly + firm, was heard. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” + </p> + <p> + “It is I, Miss Wilson, and Gertrude. We have been watching the storm, and + there is some one knocking at the—” A tremendous battery with the + knocker, followed by a sound, confused by the gale, as of a man shouting, + interrupted her. + </p> + <p> + “They had better not open the door,” said Miss Wilson, in some alarm. “You + are very imprudent, Agatha, to stand here. You will catch your death of—Dear + me! What can be the matter? She hurried down, followed by Agatha, + Gertrude, and some of the braver students, to the hall, where they found a + few shivering servants watching the housekeeper, who was at the keyhole of + the house door, querulously asking who was there. She was evidently not + heard by those without, for the knocking recommenced whilst she was + speaking, and she recoiled as if she had received a blow on the mouth. + Miss Wilson then rattled the chain to attract attention, and demanded + again who was there. + </p> + <p> + “Let us in,” was returned in a hollow shout through the keyhole. “There is + a dying woman and three children here. Open the door.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson lost her presence of mind. To gain time, she replied, “I—I + can’t hear you. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Damnation!” said the voice, speaking this time to some one outside. “They + can’t hear.” And the knocking recommenced with increased urgency. Agatha, + excited, caught Miss Wilson’s dressing gown, and repeated to her what the + voice had said. Miss Wilson had heard distinctly enough, and she felt, + without knowing clearly why, that the door must be opened, but she was + almost over-mastered by a vague dread of what was to follow. She began to + undo the chain, and Agatha helped with the bolts. Two of the servants + exclaimed that they were all about to be murdered in their beds, and ran + away. A few of the students seemed inclined to follow their example. At + last the door, loosed, was blown wide open, flinging Miss Wilson and + Agatha back, and admitting a whirlwind that tore round the hall, snatched + at the women’s draperies, and blew out the lights. Agatha, by a hash of + lightning, saw for an instant two men straining at the door like sailors + at a capstan. Then she knew by the cessation of the whirlwind that they + had shut it. Matches were struck, the candles relighted, and the newcomers + clearly perceived. + </p> + <p> + Smilash, bareheaded, without a coat, his corduroy vest and trousers heavy + with rain; a rough-looking, middle-aged man, poorly dressed like a + shepherd, wet as Smilash, with the expression, piteous, patient, and + desperate, of one hard driven by ill-fortune, and at the end of his + resources; two little children, a boy and a girl, almost naked, cowering + under an old sack that had served them as an umbrella; and, lying on the + settee where the two men had laid it, a heap of wretched wearing apparel, + sacking, and rotten matting, with Smilash’s coat and sou’wester, the whole + covering a bundle which presently proved to be an exhausted woman with a + tiny infant at her breast. Smilash’s expression, as he looked at her, was + ferocious. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry fur to trouble you, lady,” said the man, after glancing anxiously + at Smilash, as if he had expected him to act as spokesman; “but my roof + and the side of my house has gone in the storm, and my missus has been + having another little one, and I am sorry to ill-convenience you, Miss; + but—but—” + </p> + <p> + “Inconvenience!” exclaimed Smilash. “It is the lady’s privilege to relieve + you—her highest privilege!” + </p> + <p> + The little boy here began to cry from mere misery, and the woman roused + herself to say, “For shame, Tom! before the lady,” and then collapsed, too + weak to care for what might happen next in the world. Smilash looked + impatiently at Miss Wilson, who hesitated, and said to him: + </p> + <p> + “What do you expect me to do?” + </p> + <p> + “To help us,” he replied. Then, with an explosion of nervous energy, he + added: “Do what your heart tells you to do. Give your bed and your clothes + to the woman, and let your girls pitch their books to the devil for a few + days and make something for these poor little creatures to wear. The poor + have worked hard enough to clothe THEM. Let them take their turn now and + clothe the poor.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Steady, master,” said the man, stepping forward to propitiate + Miss Wilson, and evidently much oppressed by a sense of unwelcomeness. “It + ain’t any fault of the lady’s. Might I make so bold as to ask you to put + this woman of mine anywhere that may be convenient until morning. Any sort + of a place will do; she’s accustomed to rough it. Just to have a roof over + her until I find a room in the village where we can shake down.” Here, led + by his own words to contemplate the future, he looked desolately round the + cornice of the hall, as if it were a shelf on which somebody might have + left a suitable lodging for him. + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson turned her back decisively and contemptuously on Smilash. She + had recovered herself. “I will keep your wife here,” she said to the man. + “Every care shall be taken of her. The children can stay too.” + </p> + <p> + “Three cheers for moral science!” cried Smilash, ecstatically breaking + into the outrageous dialect he had forgotten in his wrath. “Wot was my + words to you, neighbor, when I said we should bring your missus to the + college, and you said, ironical-like, ‘Aye, and bloomin’ glad they’ll be + to see us there.’ Did I not say to you that the lady had a noble ‘art, and + would show it when put to the test by sech a calamity as this?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should you bring my hasty words up again’ me now, master, when the + lady has been so kind?” said the man with emotion. “I am humbly grateful + to you, Miss; and so is Bess. We are sensible of the ill-convenience we—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson, who had been conferring with the housekeeper, cut his speech + short by ordering him to carry his wife to bed, which he did with the + assistance of Smilash, now jubilant. Whilst they were away, one of the + servants, bidden to bring some blankets to the woman’s room, refused, + saying that she was not going to wait on that sort of people. Miss Wilson + gave her warning almost fiercely to quit the college next day. This + excepted, no ill-will was shown to the refugees. The young ladies were + then requested to return to bed. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the man, having laid his wife in a chamber palatial in + comparison with that which the storm had blown about her ears, was + congratulating her on her luck, and threatening the children with the most + violent chastisement if they failed to behave themselves with strict + propriety whilst they remained in that house. Before leaving them he + kissed his wife; and she, reviving, asked him to look at the baby. He did + so, and pensively apostrophized it with a shocking epithet in anticipation + of the time when its appetite must be satisfied from the provision shop + instead of from its mother’s breast. She laughed and cried shame on him; + and so they parted cheerfully. When he returned to the hall with Smilash + they found two mugs of beer waiting for them. The girls had retired, and + only Miss Wilson and the housekeeper remained. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s your health, mum,” said the man, before drinking; “and may you + find such another as yourself to help you when you’re in trouble, which + Lord send may never come!” + </p> + <p> + “Is your house quite destroyed?” said Miss Wilson. “Where will you spend + the night?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think of me, mum. Master Smilash here will kindly put me up + ‘til morning.” + </p> + <p> + “His health!” said Smilash, touching the mug with his lips. + </p> + <p> + “The roof and south wall is browed right away,” continued the man, after + pausing for a moment to puzzle over Smilash’s meaning. “I doubt if there’s + a stone of it standing by this.” + </p> + <p> + “But Sir John will build it for you again. You are one of his herds, are + you not?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, Miss. But not he; he’ll be glad it’s down. He don’t like people + livin’ on the land. I have told him time and again that the place was + ready to fall; but he said I couldn’t expect him to lay out money on a + house that he got no rent for. You see, Miss, I didn’t pay any rent. I + took low wages; and the bit of a hut was a sort of set-off again’ what I + was paid short of the other men. I couldn’t afford to have it repaired, + though I did what I could to patch and prop it. And now most like I shall + be blamed for letting it be blew down, and shall have to live in half a + room in the town and pay two or three shillin’s a week, besides walkin’ + three miles to and from my work every day. A gentleman like Sir John don’t + hardly know what the value of a penny is to us laborin’ folk, nor how + cruel hard his estate rules and the like comes on us.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir John’s health!” said Smilash, touching the mug as before. The man + drank a mouthful humbly, and Smilash continued, “Here’s to the glorious + landed gentry of old England: bless ‘em!” + </p> + <p> + “Master Smilash is only jokin’,” said the man apologetically. “It’s his + way.” + </p> + <p> + “You should not bring a family into the world if you are so poor,” said + Miss Wilson severely. “Can you not see that you impoverish yourself by + doing so—to put the matter on no higher grounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Reverend Mr. Malthus’s health!” remarked Smilash, repeating his + pantomime. + </p> + <p> + “Some say it’s the children, and some say it’s the drink, Miss,” said the + man submissively. “But from what I see, family or no family, drunk or + sober, the poor gets poorer and the rich richer every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain’t it disgustin’ to hear a man so ignorant of the improvement in the + condition of his class?” said Smilash, appealing to Miss Wilson. + </p> + <p> + “If you intend to take this man home with you,” she said, turning sharply + on him, “you had better do it at once.” + </p> + <p> + “I take it kind on your part that you ask me to do anythink, after your up + and telling Mr. Wickens that I am the last person in Lyvern you would + trust with a job.” + </p> + <p> + “So you are—the very last. Why don’t you drink your beer?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in scorn of your brewing, lady; but because, bein’ a common man, + water is good enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you good-night, Miss,” said the man; “and thank you kindly for + Bess and the children.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night,” she replied, stepping aside to avoid any salutation from + Smilash. But he went up to her and said in a low voice, and with the + Trefusis manner and accent: + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Miss Wilson. If you should ever be in want of the services of + a dog, a man, or a domestic engineer, remind Smilash of Bess and the + children, and he will act for you in any of those capacities.” + </p> + <p> + They opened the door cautiously, and found that the wind, conquered by the + rain, had abated. Miss Wilson’s candle, though it flickered in the + draught, was not extinguished this time; and she was presently left with + the housekeeper, bolting and chaining the door, and listening to the + crunching of feet on the gravel outside dying away through the steady + pattering of the rain. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + Agatha was at this time in her seventeenth year. She had a lively + perception of the foibles of others, and no reverence for her seniors, + whom she thought dull, cautious, and ridiculously amenable by + commonplaces. But she was subject to the illusion which disables youth in + spite of its superiority to age. She thought herself an exception. + Crediting Mr. Jansenius and the general mob of mankind with nothing but a + grovelling consciousness of some few material facts, she felt in herself + an exquisite sense and all-embracing conception of nature, shared only by + her favorite poets and heroes of romance and history. Hence she was in the + common youthful case of being a much better judge of other people’s + affairs than of her own. At the fellow-student who adored some Henry or + Augustus, not from the drivelling sentimentality which the world calls + love, but because this particular Henry or Augustus was a phoenix to whom + the laws that govern the relations of ordinary lads and lasses did not + apply, Agatha laughed in her sleeve. The more she saw of this weakness in + her fellows, the more satisfied she was that, being forewarned, she was + also forearmed against an attack of it on herself, much as if a doctor + were to conclude that he could not catch smallpox because he had seen many + cases of it; or as if a master mariner, knowing that many ships are + wrecked in the British channel, should venture there without a pilot, + thinking that he knew its perils too well to run any risk of them. Yet, as + the doctor might hold such an opinion if he believed himself to be + constituted differently from ordinary men; or the shipmaster adopt such a + course under the impression that his vessel was a star, Agatha found false + security in the subjective difference between her fellows seen from + without and herself known from within. When, for instance, she fell in + love with Mr. Jefferson Smilash (a step upon which she resolved the day + after the storm), her imagination invested the pleasing emotion with a + sacredness which, to her, set it far apart and distinct from the frivolous + fancies of which Henry and Augustus had been the subject, and she the + confidant. + </p> + <p> + “I can look at him quite coolly and dispassionately,” she said to herself. + “Though his face has a strange influence that must, I know, correspond to + some unexplained power within me, yet it is not a perfect face. I have + seen many men who are, strictly speaking, far handsomer. If the light that + never was on sea or land is in his eyes, yet they are not pretty eyes—not + half so clear as mine. Though he wears his common clothes with a nameless + grace that betrays his true breeding at every step, yet he is not tall, + dark, and melancholy, as my ideal hero would be if I were as great a fool + as girls of my age usually are. If I am in love, I have sense enough not + to let my love blind my judgment.” + </p> + <p> + She did not tell anyone of her new interest in life. Strongest in that + student community, she had used her power with good-nature enough to win + the popularity of a school leader, and occasionally with unscrupulousness + enough to secure the privileges of a school bully. Popularity and + privilege, however, only satisfied her when she was in the mood for them. + Girls, like men, want to be petted, pitied, and made much of, when they + are diffident, in low spirits, or in unrequited love. These are services + which the weak cannot render to the strong and which the strong will not + render to the weak, except when there is also a difference of sex. Agatha + knew by experience that though a weak woman cannot understand why her + stronger sister should wish to lean upon her, she may triumph in the fact + without understanding it, and give chaff instead of consolation. Agatha + wanted to be understood and not to be chaffed. Finding herself unable to + satisfy both these conditions, she resolved to do without sympathy and to + hold her tongue. She had often had to do so before, and she was helped on + this occasion by a sense of the ridiculous appearance her passion might + wear in the vulgar eye. Her secret kept itself, as she was supposed in the + college to be insensible to the softer emotions. Love wrought no external + change upon her. It made her believe that she had left her girlhood behind + her and was now a woman with a newly-developed heart capacity at which she + would childishly have scoffed a little while before. She felt ashamed of + the bee on the window pane, although it somehow buzzed as frequently as + before in spite of her. Her calendar, formerly a monotonous cycle of class + times, meal times, play times, and bed time, was now irregularly divided + by walks past the chalet and accidental glimpses of its tenant. + </p> + <p> + Early in December came a black frost, and navigation on the canal was + suspended. Wickens’s boy was sent to the college with news that Wickens’s + pond would bear, and that the young ladies should be welcome at any time. + The pond was only four feet deep, and as Miss Wilson set much store by the + physical education of her pupils, leave was given for skating. Agatha, who + was expert on the ice, immediately proposed that a select party should go + out before breakfast next morning. Actions not in themselves virtuous + often appear so when performed at hours that compel early rising, and some + of the candidates for the Cambridge Local, who would not have sacrificed + the afternoon to amusement, at once fell in with her suggestion. But for + them it might never have been carried out; for when they summoned Agatha, + at half-past six next morning, to leave her warm bed and brave the biting + air, she would have refused without hesitation had she not been shamed + into compliance by these laborious ones who stood by her bedside, + blue-nosed and hungry, but ready for the ice. When she had dressed herself + with much shuddering and chattering, they allayed their internal + discomfort by a slender meal of biscuits, got their skates, and went out + across the rimy meadows, past patient cows breathing clouds of steam, to + Wickens’s pond. Here, to their surprise, was Smilash, on electro-plated + acme skates, practicing complicated figures with intense diligence. It + soon appeared that his skill came short of his ambition; for, after + several narrow escapes and some frantic staggering, his calves, elbows, + and occiput smote the ice almost simultaneously. On rising ruefully to a + sitting posture he became aware that eight young ladies were watching his + proceedings with interest. + </p> + <p> + “This comes of a common man putting himself above his station by getting + into gentlemen’s skates,” he said. “Had I been content with a humble + slide, as my fathers was, I should ha’ been a happier man at the present + moment.” He sighed, rose, touched his hat to Miss Ward, and took off his + skates, adding: “Good-morning, Miss. Miss Wilson sent me word to be here + sharp at six to put on the young ladies’ skates, and I took the liberty of + trying a figure or two to keep out the cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson did not tell me that she ordered you to come,” said Miss + Ward. + </p> + <p> + “Just like her to be thoughtful and yet not let on to be! She is a kind + lady, and a learned—like yourself, Miss. Sit yourself down on the + camp-stool and give me your heel, if I may be so bold as to stick a gimlet + into it.” + </p> + <p> + His assistance was welcome, and Miss Ward allowed him to put on her + skates. She was a Canadian, and could skate well. Jane, the first to + follow her, was anxious as to the strength of the ice; but when reassured, + she acquitted herself admirably, for she was proficient in outdoor + exercises, and had the satisfaction of laughing in the field at those who + laughed at her in the study. Agatha, contrary to her custom, gave way to + her companions, and her boots were the last upon which Smilash operated. + </p> + <p> + “How d’you do, Miss Wylie?” he said, dropping the Smilash manner now that + the rest were out of earshot. + </p> + <p> + “I am very well, thank you,” said Agatha, shy and constrained. This phase + of her being new to him, he paused with her heel in his hand and looked up + at her curiously. She collected herself, returned his gaze steadily, and + said: “How did Miss Wilson send you word to come? She only knew of our + party at half-past nine last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson did not send for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have just told Miss Ward that she did.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I find it necessary to tell almost as many lies now that I am a + simple laborer as I did when I was a gentleman. More, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall know how much to believe of what you say in the future.” + </p> + <p> + “The truth is this. I am perhaps the worst skater in the world, and + therefore, according to a natural law, I covet the faintest distinction on + the ice more than immortal fame for the things in which nature has given + me aptitude to excel. I envy that large friend of yours—Jane is her + name, I think—more than I envy Plato. I came down here this morning, + thinking that the skating world was all a-bed, to practice in secret.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad we caught you at it,” said Agatha maliciously, for he was + disappointing her. She wanted him to be heroic in his conversation; and he + would not. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” he replied. “I have observed that Woman’s dearest delight + is to wound Man’s self-conceit, though Man’s dearest delight is to gratify + hers. There is at least one creature lower than Man. Now, off with you. + Shall I hold you until your ankles get firm?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she said, disgusted: “<i>I</i> can skate pretty well, and I + don’t think you could give me any useful assistance.” And she went off + cautiously, feeling that a mishap would be very disgraceful after such a + speech. + </p> + <p> + He stood on the shore, listening to the grinding, swaying sound of the + skates, and watching the growing complexity of the curves they were + engraving on the ice. As the girls grew warm and accustomed to the + exercise they laughed, jested, screamed recklessly when they came into + collision, and sailed before the wind down the whole length of the pond at + perilous speed. The more animated they became, the gloomier looked + Smilash. “Not two-penn’orth of choice between them and a parcel of + puppies,” he said; “except that some of them are conscious that there is a + man looking at them, although he is only a blackguard laborer. They remind + me of Henrietta in a hundred ways. Would I laugh, now, if the whole sheet + of ice were to burst into little bits under them?” + </p> + <p> + Just then the ice cracked with a startling report, and the skaters, except + Jane, skimmed away in all directions. + </p> + <p> + “You are breaking the ice to pieces, Jane,” said Agatha, calling from a + safe distance. “How can you expect it to bear your weight?” + </p> + <p> + “Pack of fools!” retorted Jane indignantly. “The noise only shows how + strong it is.” + </p> + <p> + The shock which the report had given Smilash answered him his question. + “Make a note that wishes for the destruction of the human race, however + rational and sincere, are contrary to nature,” he said, recovering his + spirits. “Besides, what a precious fool I should be if I were working at + an international association of creatures only fit for destruction! Hi, + lady! One word, Miss!” This was to Miss Ward, who had skated into his + neighborhood. “It bein’ a cold morning, and me havin’ a poor and common + circulation, would it be looked on as a liberty if I was to cut a slide + here or take a turn in the corner all to myself?” + </p> + <p> + “You may skate over there if you wish,” she said, after a pause for + consideration, pointing to a deserted spot at the leeward end of the pond, + where the ice was too rough for comfortable skating. + </p> + <p> + “Nobly spoke!” he cried, with a grin, hurrying to the place indicated, + where, skating being out of the question, he made a pair of slides, and + gravely exercised himself upon them until his face glowed and his fingers + tingled in the frosty air. The time passed quickly; when Miss Ward sent + for him to take off her skates there was a general groan and declaration + that it could not possibly be half-past eight o’clock yet. Smilash knelt + before the camp-stool, and was presently busy unbuckling and unscrewing. + When Jane’s turn came, the camp-stool creaked beneath her weight. Agatha + again remonstrated with her, but immediately reproached herself with + flippancy before Smilash, to whom she wished to convey an impression of + deep seriousness of character. + </p> + <p> + “Smallest foot of the lot,” he said critically, holding Jane’s foot + between his finger and thumb as if it were an art treasure which he had + been invited to examine. “And belonging to the finest built lady.” + </p> + <p> + Jane snatched away her foot, blushed, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! What next, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “T’other ‘un next,” he said, setting to work on the remaining skate. When + it was off, he looked up at her, and she darted a glance at him as she + rose which showed that his compliment (her feet were, in fact, small and + pretty) was appreciated. + </p> + <p> + “Allow me, Miss,” he said to Gertrude, who was standing on one leg, + leaning on Agatha, and taking off her own skates. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” she said coldly. “I don’t need your assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “I am well aware that the offer was overbold,” he replied, with a + self-complacency that made his profession of humility exasperating. “If + all the skates is off, I will, by Miss Wilson’s order, carry them and the + camp-stool back to the college.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Ward handed him her skates and turned away. Gertrude placed hers on + the stool and went with Miss Ward. The rest followed, leaving him to stare + at the heap of skates and consider how he should carry them. He could + think of no better plan than to interlace the straps and hang them in a + chain over his shoulder. By the time he had done this the young ladies + were out of sight, and his intention of enjoying their society during the + return to the college was defeated. They had entered the building long + before he came in sight of it. + </p> + <p> + Somewhat out of conceit with his folly, he went to the servants’ entrance + and rang the bell there. When the door was opened, he saw Miss Ward + standing behind the maid who admitted him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she said, looking at the string of skates as if she had hardly + expected to see them again, “so you have brought our things back?” + </p> + <p> + “Such were my instructions,” he said, taken aback by her manner. “You had + no instructions. What do you mean by getting our skates into your charge + under false pretences? I was about to send the police to take them from + you. How dare you tell me that you were sent to wait on me, when you know + very well that you were nothing of the sort?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t help it, Miss,” he replied submissively. “I am a natural born + liar—always was. I know that it must appear dreadful to you that + never told a lie, and don’t hardly know what a lie is, belonging as you do + to a class where none is ever told. But common people like me tells lies + just as a duck swims. I ask your pardon, Miss, most humble, and I hope the + young ladies’ll be able to tell one set of skates from t’other; for I’m + blest if I can.” + </p> + <p> + “Put them down. Miss Wilson wishes to speak to you before you go. Susan, + show him the way.” + </p> + <p> + “Hope you ain’t been and got a poor cove into trouble, Miss?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson knows how you have behaved.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled at her benevolently and followed Susan upstairs. On their way + they met Jane, who stole a glance at him, and was about to pass by, when + he said: + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you say a word to Miss Wilson for a poor common fellow, honored + young lady? I have got into dreadful trouble for having made bold to + assist you this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t give yourself the pains to talk like that,” replied Jane in + an impetuous whisper. “We all know that you’re only pretending.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can guess my motive,” he whispered, looking tenderly at her. + </p> + <p> + “Such stuff and nonsense! I never heard of such a thing in my life,” said + Jane, and ran away, plainly understanding that he had disguised himself in + order to obtain admission to the college and enjoy the happiness of + looking at her. + </p> + <p> + “Cursed fool that I am!” he said to himself; “I cannot act like a rational + creature for five consecutive minutes.” + </p> + <p> + The servant led him to the study and announced, “The man, if you please, + ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Jeff Smilash,” he added in explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said Miss Wilson sternly. + </p> + <p> + He went in, and met the determined frown which she cast on him from her + seat behind the writing table, by saying courteously: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Miss Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + She bent forward involuntarily, as if to receive a gentleman. Then she + checked herself and looked implacable. + </p> + <p> + “I have to apologize,” he said, “for making use of your name unwarrantably + this morning—telling a lie, in fact. I happened to be skating when + the young ladies came down, and as they needed some assistance which they + would hardly have accepted from a common man—excuse my borrowing + that tiresome expression from our acquaintance Smilash—I set their + minds at ease by saying that you had sent for me. Otherwise, as you have + given me a bad character—though not worse than I deserve—they + would probably have refused to employ me, or at least I should have been + compelled to accept payment, which I, of course, do not need.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson affected surprise. “I do not understand you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Not altogether,” he said smiling. “But you understand that I am what is + called a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “No. The gentlemen with whom I am conversant do not dress as you dress, + nor speak as you speak, nor act as you act.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, and her countenance confirmed the hostility of her tone. + He instantly relapsed into an aggravated phase of Smilash. + </p> + <p> + “I will no longer attempt to set myself up as a gentleman,” he said. “I am + a common man, and your ladyship’s hi recognizes me as such and is not to + be deceived. But don’t go for to say that I am not candid when I am as + candid as ever you will let me be. What fault, if any, do you find with my + putting the skates on the young ladies, and carryin’ the campstool for + them?” + </p> + <p> + “If you are a gentleman,” said Miss Wilson, reddening, “your conduct in + persisting in these antics in my presence is insulting to me. Extremely + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson,” he replied, unruffled, “if you insist on Smilash, you shall + have Smilash; I take an insane pleasure in personating him. If you want + Sidney—my real Christian name—you can command him. But allow + me to say that you must have either one or the other. If you become frank + with me, I will understand that you are addressing Sidney. If distant and + severe, Smilash.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter what your name may be,” said Miss Wilson, much annoyed, “I + forbid you to come here or to hold any communication whatever with the + young ladies in my charge.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I choose.” + </p> + <p> + “There is much force in that reason, Miss Wilson; but it is not moral + force in the sense conveyed by your college prospectus, which I have read + with great interest.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson, since her quarrel with Agatha, had been sore on the subject + of moral force. “No one is admitted here,” she said, “without a + trustworthy introduction or recommendation. A disguise is not a + satisfactory substitute for either.” + </p> + <p> + “Disguises are generally assumed for the purpose of concealing crime,” he + remarked sententiously. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely so,” she said emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore, I bear, to say the least, a doubtful character. Nevertheless, + I have formed with some of the students here a slight acquaintance, of + which, it seems, you disapprove. You have given me no good reason why I + should discontinue that acquaintance, and you cannot control me except by + your wish—a sort of influence not usually effective with doubtful + characters. Suppose I disregard your wish, and that one or two of your + pupils come to you and say: ‘Miss Wilson, in our opinion Smilash is an + excellent fellow; we find his conversation most improving. As it is your + principle to allow us to exercise our own judgment, we intend to cultivate + the acquaintance of Smilash.’ How will you act in that case?” + </p> + <p> + “Send them home to their parents at once.” + </p> + <p> + “I see that your principles are those of the Church of England. You allow + the students the right of private judgment on condition that they arrive + at the same conclusions as you. Excuse my saying that the principles of + the Church of England, however excellent, are not those your prospectus + led me to hope for. Your plan is coercion, stark and simple.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not admit it,” said Miss Wilson, ready to argue, even with Smilash, + in defence of her system. “The girls are quite at liberty to act as they + please, but I reserve my equal liberty to exclude them from my college if + I do not approve of their behavior.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so. In most schools children are perfectly at liberty to learn their + lessons or not, just as they please; but the principal reserves an equal + liberty to whip them if they cannot repeat their tasks.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not whip my pupils,” said Miss Wilson indignantly. “The comparison + is an outrage.” + </p> + <p> + “But you expel them; and, as they are devoted to you and to the place, + expulsion is a dreaded punishment. Yours is the old system of making laws + and enforcing them by penalties, and the superiority of Alton College to + other colleges is due, not to any difference of system, but to the + comparative reasonableness of its laws and the mildness and judgment with + which they are enforced.” + </p> + <p> + “My system is radically different from the old one. However, I will not + discuss the matter with you. A mind occupied with the prejudices of the + old coercive despotism can naturally only see in the new a modification of + the old, instead of, as my system is, an entire reversal or abandonment of + it.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head sadly and said: “You seek to impose your ideas on + others, ostracizing those who reject them. Believe me, mankind has been + doing nothing else ever since it began to pay some attention to ideas. It + has been said that a benevolent despotism is the best possible form of + government. I do not believe that saying, because I believe another one to + the effect that hell is paved with benevolence, which most people, the + proverb being too deep for them, misinterpret as unfulfilled intentions. + As if a benevolent despot might not by any error of judgment destroy his + kingdom, and then say, like Romeo when he got his friend killed, ‘I + thought all for the best!’ Excuse my rambling. I meant to say, in short, + that though you are benevolent and judicious you are none the less a + despot.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson, at a loss for a reply, regretted that she had not, before + letting him gain so far on her, dismissed him summarily instead of + tolerating a discussion which she did not know how to end with dignity. He + relieved her by adding unexpectedly: + </p> + <p> + “Your system was the cause of my absurd marriage. My wife acquired a + degree of culture and reasonableness from her training here which made her + seem a superior being among the chatterers who form the female seasoning + in ordinary society. I admired her dark eyes, and was only too glad to + seize the excuse her education offered me for believing her a match for me + in mind as well as in body.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson, astonished, determined to tell him coldly that her time was + valuable. But curiosity took possession of her in the act of utterance, + and the words that came were, “Who was she?” + </p> + <p> + “Henrietta Jansenius. She is Henrietta Trefusis, and I am Sidney Trefusis, + at your mercy. I see I have aroused your compassion at last.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Miss Wilson hastily; for her surprise was indeed tinged + by a feeling that he was thrown away on Henrietta. + </p> + <p> + “I ran away from her and adopted this retreat and this disguise in order + to avoid her. The usual rebuke to human forethought followed. I ran + straight into her arms—or rather she ran into mine. You remember the + scene, and were probably puzzled by it.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to think your marriage contract a very light matter, Mr. + Trefusis. May I ask whose fault was the separation? Hers, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to reproach her with. I expected to find her temper hasty, + but it was not so—her behavior was unexceptionable. So was mine. Our + bliss was perfect, but unfortunately, I was not made for domestic bliss—at + all events I could not endure it—so I fled, and when she caught me + again I could give no excuse for my flight, though I made it clear to her + that I would not resume our connubial relations just yet. We parted on bad + terms. I fully intended to write her a sweet letter to make her forgive me + in spite of herself, but somehow the weeks have slipped away and I am + still fully intending. She has never written, and I have never written. + This is a pretty state of things, isn’t it, Miss Wilson, after all her + advantages under the influence of moral force and the movement for the + higher education of women?” + </p> + <p> + “By your own admission, the fault seems to lie upon your moral training + and not upon hers.” + </p> + <p> + “The fault was in the conditions of our association. Why they should have + attracted me so strongly at first, and repelled me so horribly afterwards, + is one of those devil’s riddles which will not be answered until we shall + have traced all the yet unsuspected reactions of our inveterate + dishonesty. But I am wasting your time, I fear. You sent for Smilash, and + I have responded by practically annihilating him. In public, however, you + must still bear with his antics. One moment more. I had forgotten to ask + you whether you are interested in the shepherd whose wife you sheltered on + the night of the storm?” + </p> + <p> + “He assured me, before he took his wife away, that he was comfortably + settled in a lodging in Lyvern.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Very comfortably settled indeed. For half-a-crown a week he obtained + permission to share a spacious drawing-room with two other families in a + ten-roomed house in not much better repair than his blown-down hovel. This + house yields to its landlord over two hundred a year, or rather more than + the rent of a commodious mansion in South Kensington. It is a troublesome + rent to collect, but on the other hand there is no expenditure for repairs + or sanitation, which are not considered necessary in tenement houses. Our + friend has to walk three miles to his work and three miles back. Exercise + is a capital thing for a student or a city clerk, but to a shepherd who + has been in the fields all day, a long walk at the end of his work is + somewhat too much of a good thing. He begged for an increase of wages to + compensate him for the loss of the hut, but Sir John pointed out to him + that if he was not satisfied his place could be easily filled by less + exorbitant shepherds. Sir John even condescended to explain that the laws + of political economy bind employers to buy labor in the cheapest market, + and our poor friend, just as ignorant of economics as Sir John, of course + did not know that this was untrue. However, as labor is actually so + purchased everywhere except in Downing Street and a few other privileged + spots, I suggested that our friend should go to some place where his + market price would be higher than in merry England. He was willing enough + to do so, but unable from want of means. So I lent him a trifle, and now + he is on his way to Australia. Workmen are the geese that lay the golden + eggs, but they fly away sometimes. I hear a gong sounding, to remind me of + the fight of time and the value of your share of it. Good-morning!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson was suddenly moved not to let him go without an appeal to his + better nature. “Mr. Trefusis,” she said, “excuse me, but are you not, in + your generosity to others a little forgetful of your duty to yourself; and—” + </p> + <p> + “The first and hardest of all duties!” he exclaimed. “I beg your pardon + for interrupting you. It was only to plead guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot admit that it is the first of all duties, but it is sometimes + perhaps the hardest, as you say. Still, you could surely do yourself more + justice without any great effort. If you wish to live humbly, you can do + so without pretending to be an uneducated man and without taking an + irritating and absurd name. Why on earth do you call yourself Smilash?” + </p> + <p> + “I confess that the name has been a failure. I took great pains, in + constructing it, to secure a pleasant impression. It is not a mere + invention, but a compound of the words smile and eyelash. A smile suggests + good humor; eyelashes soften the expression and are the only features that + never blemish a face. Hence Smilash is a sound that should cheer and + propitiate. Yet it exasperates. It is really very odd that it should have + that effect, unless it is that it raises expectations which I am unable to + satisfy.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Wilson looked at him doubtfully. He remained perfectly grave. There + was a pause. Then, as if she had made up her mind to be offended, she + said, “Good-morning,” shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Miss Wilson. The son of a millionaire, like the son of a + king, is seldom free from mental disease. I am just mad enough to be a + mountebank. If I were a little madder, I should perhaps really believe + myself Smilash instead of merely acting him. Whether you ask me to forget + myself for a moment, or to remember myself for a moment, I reply that I am + the son of my father, and cannot. With my egotism, my charlatanry, my + tongue, and my habit of having my own way, I am fit for no calling but + that of saviour of mankind—just of the sort they like.” After an + impressive pause he turned slowly and left the room. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” he said, as he crossed the landing, “whether, by judiciously + losing my way, I can catch a glimpse of that girl who is like a golden + idol?” + </p> + <p> + Downstairs, on his way to the door, he saw Agatha coming towards him, + occupied with a book which she was tossing up to the ceiling and catching. + Her melancholy expression, habitual in her lonely moments, showed that she + was not amusing herself, but giving vent to her restlessness. As her gaze + travelled upward, following the flight of the volume, it was arrested by + Smilash. The book fell to the floor. He picked it up and handed it to her, + saying: + </p> + <p> + “And, in good time, here is the golden idol!” + </p> + <p> + “What?” said Agatha, confused. + </p> + <p> + “I call you the golden idol,” he said. “When we are apart I always imagine + your face as a face of gold, with eyes and teeth of bdellium, or + chalcedony, or agate, or any wonderful unknown stones of appropriate + colors.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha, witless and dumb, could only look down deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “You think you ought to be angry with me, and you do not know exactly how + to make me feel that you are so. Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Quite the contrary. At least—I mean that you are wrong. I am + the most commonplace person you can imagine—if you only knew. No + matter what I may look, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that you are commonplace?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I know,” said Agatha, her eyes wandering uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you do not know; you cannot see yourself as others see you. For + instance, you have never thought of yourself as a golden idol.” + </p> + <p> + “But that is absurd. You are quite mistaken about me.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so. I know, however, that your face is not really made of gold + and that it has not the same charm for you that it has for others—for + me.” + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” said Agatha, suddenly in haste. + </p> + <p> + “When shall we meet again?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” she said, with a growing sense of alarm. “I really must + go.” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, your hurry is only imaginary. Do you fancy that you are + behaving in a manner of quite ubdued ardor that affected Agatha strangely. + </p> + <p> + “But first tell me whether it is new to you or not.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not an emotion at all. I did not say that it was.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be afraid of it. It is only being alone with a man whom you have + bewitched. You would be mistress of the situation if you only knew how to + manage a lover. It is far easier than managing a horse, or skating, or + playing the piano, or half a dozen other feats of which you think + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha colored and raised her head. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” he said, interrupting the action. “I am trying to offend you + in order to save myself from falling in love with you, and I have not the + heart to let myself succeed. On your life, do not listen to me or believe + me. I have no right to say these things to you. Some fiend enters into me + when I am at your side. You should wear a veil, Agatha.” + </p> + <p> + She blushed, and stood burning and tingling, her presence of mind gone, + and her chief sensation one of relief to hear—for she did not dare + to see—that he was departing. Her consciousness was in a delicious + confusion, with the one definite thought in it that she had won her lover + at last. The tone of Trefusis’s voice, rich with truth and earnestness, + his quick insight, and his passionate warning to her not to heed him, + convinced her that she had entered into a relation destined to influence + her whole life. + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” she said remorsefully, “I cannot love him as he loves me. I am + selfish, cold, calculating, worldly, and have doubted until now whether + such a thing as love really existed. If I could only love him recklessly + and wholly, as he loves me!” + </p> + <p> + Smilash was also soliloquizing as he went on his way. + </p> + <p> + “Now I have made the poor child—who was so anxious that I should not + mistake her for a supernaturally gifted and lovely woman as happy as an + angel; and so is that fine girl whom they call Jane Carpenter. I hope they + won’t exchange confidences on the subject.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Trefusis found her parents so unsympathetic on the subject of her + marriage that she left their house shortly after her visit to Lyvern, and + went to reside with a hospitable friend. Unable to remain silent upon the + matter constantly in her thoughts, she discussed her husband’s flight with + this friend, and elicited an opinion that the behavior of Trefusis was + scandalous and wicked. Henrietta could not bear this, and sought shelter + with a relative. The same discussion arising, the relative said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Hetty, if I am to speak candidly, I must say that I have known + Sidney Trefusis for a long time, and he is the easiest person to get on + with I ever met. And you know, dear, that you are very trying sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “And so,” cried Henrietta, bursting into tears, “after the infamous way he + has treated me I am to be told that it is all my own fault.” + </p> + <p> + She left the house next day, having obtained another invitation from a + discreet lady who would not discuss the subject at all. This proved quite + intolerable, and Henrietta went to stay with her uncle Daniel Jansenius, a + jolly and indulgent man. He opined that things would come right as soon as + both parties grew more sensible; and, as to which of them was, in fault, + his verdict was, six of one and half a dozen of the other. Whenever he saw + his niece pensive or tearful he laughed at her and called her a grass + widow. Henrietta found that she could endure anything rather than this. + Declaring that the world was hateful to her, she hired a furnished villa + in St. John’s Wood, whither she moved in December. But, suffering much + there from loneliness, she soon wrote a pathetic letter to Agatha, + entreating her to spend the approaching Christmas vacation with her, and + promising her every luxury and amusement that boundless affection could + suggest and boundless means procure. Agatha’s reply contained some + unlooked-for information. + </p> + <p> + “Alton College, Lyvern, + </p> + <p> + “14th December. + </p> + <p> + “Dearest Hetty: I don’t think I can do exactly what you want, as I must + spend Xmas with Mamma at Chiswick; but I need not get there until Xmas + Eve, and we break up here on yesterday week, the 20th. So I will go + straight to you and bring you with me to Mamma’s, where you will spend + Xmas much better than moping in a strange house. It is not quite settled + yet about my leaving the college after this term. You must promise not to + tell anyone; but I have a new friend here—a lover. Not that I am in + love with him, though I think very highly of him—you know I am not a + romantic fool; but he is very much in love with me; and I wish I could + return it as he deserves. The French say that one person turns the cheek + and the other kisses it. It has not got quite so far as that with us; + indeed, since he declared what he felt he has only been able to snatch a + few words with me when I have been skating or walking. But there has + always been at least one word or look that meant a great deal. + </p> + <p> + “And now, who do you think he is? He says he knows you. Can you guess? He + says you know all his secrets. He says he knows your husband well; that he + treated you very badly, and that you are greatly to be pitied. Can you + guess now? He says he has kissed you—for shame, Hetty! Have you + guessed yet? He was going to tell me something more when we were + interrupted, and I have not seen him since except at a distance. He is the + man with whom you eloped that day when you gave us all such a fright—Mr. + Sidney. I was the first to penetrate his disguise; and that very morning I + had taxed him with it, and he had confessed it. He said then that he was + hiding from a woman who was in love with him; and I should not be + surprised if it turned out to be true; for he is wonderfully original—in + fact what makes me like him is that he is by far the cleverest man I have + ever met; and yet he thinks nothing of himself. I cannot imagine what he + sees in me to care for, though he is evidently ensnared by my charms. I + hope he won’t find out how silly I am. He called me his golden idol—” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta, with a scream of rage, tore the letter across, and stamped upon + it. When the paroxysm subsided she picked up the pieces, held them + together as accurately as her trembling hands could, and read on. + </p> + <p> + “—but he is not all honey, and will say the most severe things + sometimes if he thinks he ought to. He has made me so ashamed of my + ignorance that I am resolved to stay here for another term at least, and + study as hard as I can. I have not begun yet, as it is not worth while at + the eleventh hour of this term; but when I return in January I will set to + work in earnest. So you may see that his influence over me is an entirely + good one. I will tell you all about him when we meet; for I have no time + to say anything now, as the girls are bothering me to go skating with + them. He pretends to be a workman, and puts on our skates for us; and Jane + Carpenter believes that he is in love with her. Jane is exceedingly + kindhearted; but she has a talent for making herself ridiculous that + nothing can suppress. The ice is lovely, and the weather jolly; we do not + mind the cold in the least. They are threatening to go without me—good-bye! + </p> + <p> + “Ever your affectionate + </p> + <p> + “Agatha.” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta looked round for something sharp. She grasped a pair of scissors + greedily and stabbed the air with them. Then she became conscious of her + murderous impulse, and she shuddered at it; but in a moment more her + jealousy swept back upon her. She cried, as if suffocating, “I don’t care; + I should like to kill her!” But she did not take up the scissors again. + </p> + <p> + At last she rang the bell violently and asked for a railway guide. On + being told that there was not one in the house, she scolded her maid so + unreasonably that the girl said pertly that if she were to be spoken to + like that she should wish to leave when her month was up. This check + brought Henrietta to her senses. She went upstairs and put on the first + cloak at hand, which was fortunately a heavy fur one. Then she took her + bonnet and purse, left the house, hailed a passing hansom, and bade the + cabman drive her to St. Pancras. + </p> + <p> + When the night came the air at Lyvern was like iron in the intense cold. + The trees and the wind seemed ice-bound, as the water was, and silence, + stillness, and starlight, frozen hard, brooded over the country. At the + chalet, Smilash, indifferent to the price of coals, kept up a roaring fire + that glowed through the uncurtained windows, and tantalized the chilled + wayfarer who did not happen to know, as the herdsmen of the neighborhood + did, that he was welcome to enter and warm himself without risk of rebuff + from the tenant. Smilash was in high spirits. He had become a proficient + skater, and frosty weather was now a luxury to him. It braced him, and + drove away his gloomy fits, whilst his sympathies were kept awake and his + indignation maintained at an exhilarating pitch by the sufferings of the + poor, who, unable to afford fires or skating, warmed themselves in such + sweltering heat as overcrowding produces in all seasons. + </p> + <p> + It was Smilash’s custom to make a hot drink of oatmeal and water for + himself at half-past nine o’clock each evening, and to go to bed at ten. + He opened the door to throw out some water that remained in the saucepan + from its last cleansing. It froze as it fell upon the soil. He looked at + the night, and shook himself to throw off an oppressive sensation of being + clasped in the icy ribs of the air, for the mercury had descended below + the familiar region of crisp and crackly cold and marked a temperature at + which the numb atmosphere seemed on the point of congealing into black + solidity. Nothing was stirring. + </p> + <p> + “By George!” he said, “this is one of those nights on which a rich man + daren’t think!” + </p> + <p> + He shut the door, hastened back to his fire, and set to work at his + caudle, which he watched and stirred with a solicitude that would have + amused a professed cook. When it was done he poured it into a large mug, + where it steamed invitingly. He took up some in a spoon and blew upon it + to cool it. Tap, tap, tap, tap! hurriedly at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Nice night for a walk,” he said, putting down the spoon; then shouting, + “Come in.” + </p> + <p> + The latch rose unsteadily, and Henrietta, with frozen tears on her cheeks, + and an unintelligible expression of wretchedness and rage, appeared. After + an instant of amazement, he sprang to her and clasped her in his arms, and + she, against her will, and protesting voicelessly, stumbled into his + embrace. + </p> + <p> + “You are frozen to death,” he exclaimed, carrying her to the fire. “This + seal jacket is like a sheet of ice. So is your face” (kissing it). “What + is the matter? Why do you struggle so?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go,” she gasped, in a vehement whisper. “I h—hate you.” + </p> + <p> + “My poor love, you are too cold to hate anyone—even your husband. + You must let me take off these atrocious French boots. Your feet must be + perfectly dead.” + </p> + <p> + By this time her voice and tears were thawing in the warmth of the chalet + and of his caresses. “You shall not take them off,” she said, crying with + cold and sorrow. “Let me alone. Don’t touch me. I am going away—straight + back. I will not speak to you, nor take off my things here, nor touch + anything in the house.” + </p> + <p> + “No, my darling,” he said, putting her into a capacious wooden armchair + and busily unbuttoning her boots, “you shall do nothing that you don’t + wish to do. Your feet are like stones. Yes, yes, my dear, I am a wretch + unworthy to live. I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone,” she said piteously. “I don’t want your attentions. I have + done with you for ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, you must drink some of this nasty stuff. You will need strength to + tell your husband all the unpleasant things your soul is charged with. + Take just a little.” + </p> + <p> + She turned her face away and would not answer. He brought another chair + and sat down beside her. “My lost, forlorn, betrayed one—” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” she sobbed. “You don’t mean it, but I am.” + </p> + <p> + “You are also my dearest and best of wives. If you ever loved me, Hetty, + do, for my once dear sake, drink this before it gets cold.” + </p> + <p> + She pouted, sobbed, and yielded to some gentle force which he used, as a + child allows herself to be half persuaded, half compelled, to take physic. + </p> + <p> + “Do you feel better and more comfortable now?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied, angry with herself for feeling both. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” he said cheerfully, as if she had uttered a hearty affirmative, “I + will put some more coals on the fire, and we shall be as snug as possible. + It makes me wildly happy to see you at my fireside, and to know that you + are my own wife.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder how you can look me in the face and say so,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “I should wonder at myself if I could look at your face and say anything + else. Oatmeal is a capital restorative; all your energy is coming back. + There, that will make a magnificent blaze presently.” + </p> + <p> + “I never thought you deceitful, Sidney, whatever other faults you might + have had.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely, my love. I understand your feelings. Murder, burglary, + intemperance, or the minor vices you could have borne; but deceit you + cannot abide.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go away,” she said despairingly, with a fresh burst of tears. “I + will not be laughed at and betrayed. I will go barefooted.” She rose and + attempted to reach the door; but he intercepted her and said: + </p> + <p> + “My love, there is something serious the matter. What is it? Don’t be + angry with me.” + </p> + <p> + He brought her back to the chair. She took Agatha’s letter from the pocket + of her fur cloak, and handed it to him with a faint attempt to be tragic. + </p> + <p> + “Read that,” she said. “And never speak to me again. All is over between + us.” + </p> + <p> + He took it curiously, and turned it to look at the signature. “Aha!” he + said, “my golden idol has been making mischief, has she?” + </p> + <p> + “There!” exclaimed Henrietta. “You have said it to my face! You have + convicted yourself out of your own mouth!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, my dear. I have not read the letter yet.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and walked to and fro through the room, reading. She watched him, + angrily confident that she should presently see him change countenance. + Suddenly he drooped as if his spine had partly given way; and in this + ungraceful attitude he read the remainder of the letter. When he had + finished he threw it on the table, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, + and roared with laughter, huddling himself together as if he could + concentrate the joke by collecting himself into the smallest possible + compass. Henrietta, speechless with indignation, could only look her + feelings. At last he came and sat down beside her. + </p> + <p> + “And so,” he said, “on receiving this you rushed out in the cold and came + all the way to Lyvern. Now, it seems to me that you must either love me + very much—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t. I hate you.” + </p> + <p> + “Or else love yourself very much.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” And she wept afresh. “You are a selfish brute, and you do just as + you like without considering anyone else. No one ever thinks of me. And + now you won’t even take the trouble to deny that shameful letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I deny it? It is true. Do you not see the irony of all this? I + amuse myself by paying a few compliments to a schoolgirl for whom I do not + care two straws more than for any agreeable and passably clever woman I + meet. Nevertheless, I occasionally feel a pang of remorse because I think + that she may love me seriously, although I am only playing with her. I + pity the poor heart I have wantonly ensnared. And, all the time, she is + pitying me for exactly the same reason! She is conscience-stricken because + she is only indulging in the luxury of being adored ‘by far the cleverest + man she has ever met,’ and is as heart-whole as I am! Ha, ha! That is the + basis of the religion of love of which poets are the high-priests. Each + worshipper knows that his own love is either a transient passion or a sham + copied from his favorite poem; but he believes honestly in the love of + others for him. Ho, ho! Is it not a silly world, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “You had no right to make love to Agatha. You have no right to make love + to anyone but me; and I won’t bear it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are angry because Agatha has infringed your monopoly. Always + monopoly! Why, you silly girl, do you suppose that I belong to you, body + and soul?—that I may not be moved except by your affection, or think + except of your beauty?” + </p> + <p> + “You may call me as many names as you please, but you have no right to + make love to Agatha.” + </p> + <p> + “My dearest, I do not recollect calling you any names. I think you said + something about a selfish brute.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not. You called me a silly girl.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my love, you are.” + </p> + <p> + “And so YOU are. You are thoroughly selfish.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t deny it. But let us return to our subject. What did we begin to + quarrel about?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not quarrelling, Sidney. It is you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what did I begin to quarrel about?” + </p> + <p> + “About Agatha Wylie.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pardon me, Hetty; I certainly did not begin to quarrel about her. I + am very fond of her—more so, it appears, than she is of me. One + moment, Hetty, before you recommence your reproaches. Why do you dislike + my saying pretty things to Agatha?” + </p> + <p> + Henrietta hesitated, and said: “Because you have no right to. It shows how + little you care for me.” + </p> + <p> + “It has nothing to do with you. It only shows how much I care for her.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not stay here to be insulted,” said Hetty, her distress returning. + “I will go home.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night; there is no train.” + </p> + <p> + “I will walk.” + </p> + <p> + “It is too far.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care. I will not stay here, though I die of cold by the + roadside.” + </p> + <p> + “My cherished one, I have been annoying you purposely because you show by + your anger that you have not ceased to care for me. I am in the wrong, as + I usually am, and it is all my fault. Agatha knows nothing about our + marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not blame you so much,” said Henrietta, suffering him to place her + head on his shoulder; “but I will never speak to Agatha again. She has + behaved shamefully to me, and I will tell her so.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt she will opine that it is all your fault, dearest, and that I + have behaved admirably. Between you I shall stand exonerated. And now, + since it is too cold for walking, since it is late, since it is far to + Lyvern and farther to London, I must improvise some accommodation for you + here.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “But there is no help for it. You must stay.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + Next day Smilash obtained from his wife a promise that she would behave + towards Agatha as if the letter had given no offence. Henrietta pleaded as + movingly as she could for an immediate return to their domestic state, but + he put her off with endearing speeches, promised nothing but eternal + affection, and sent her back to London by the twelve o’clock express. Then + his countenance changed; he walked back to Lyvern, and thence to the + chalet, like a man pursued by disgust and remorse. Later in the afternoon, + to raise his spirits, he took his skates and went to Wickens’s pond, + where, it being Saturday, he found the ice crowded with the Alton students + and their half-holiday visitors. Fairholme, describing circles with his + habitual air of compressed hardihood, stopped and stared with indignant + surprise as Smilash lurched past him. + </p> + <p> + “Is that man here by your permission?” he said to Farmer Wickens, who was + walking about as if superintending a harvest. + </p> + <p> + “He is here because he likes, I take it,” said Wickens stubbornly. “He is + a neighbor of mine and a friend of mine. Is there any objections to my + having a friend on my own pond, seein’ that there is nigh on two or three + ton of other people’s friends on it without as much as a with-your-leave + or a by-your-leave.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Fairholme, somewhat dashed. “If you are satisfied there can + be no objection.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad on it. I thought there mout be.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you,” said Fairholme, nettled, “that your landlord would not + be pleased to see him here. He sent one of Sir John’s best shepherds out + of the country, after filling his head with ideas above his station. I + heard Sir John speak very warmly about it last Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “Mayhap you did, Muster Fairholme. I have a lease of this land—and + gravelly, poor stuff it is—and I am no ways beholden to Sir John’s + likings and dislikings. A very good thing too for Sir John that I have a + lease, for there ain’t a man in the country ‘ud tak’ a present o’ the farm + if it was free to-morrow. And what’s a’ more, though that young man do + talk foolish things about the rights of farm laborers and such-like + nonsense, if Sir John was to hear him layin’ it down concernin’ rent and + improvements, and the way we tenant farmers is put upon, p’raps he’d speak + warmer than ever next Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + And Wickens, with a smile expressive of his sense of having retorted + effectively upon the parson, nodded and walked away. + </p> + <p> + Just then Agatha, skating hand in hand with Jane Carpenter, heard these + words in her ear: “I have something very funny to tell you. Don’t look + round.” + </p> + <p> + She recognized the voice of Smilash and obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “I am not quite sure that you will enjoy it as it deserves,” he added, and + darted off again, after casting an eloquent glance at Miss Carpenter. + </p> + <p> + Agatha disengaged herself from her companion, made a circuit, and passed + near Smilash, saying: “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Smilash flitted away like a swallow, traced several circles around + Fairholme, and then returned to Agatha and proceeded side by side with + her. + </p> + <p> + “I have read the letter you wrote to Hetty,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Agatha’s face began to glow. She forgot to maintain her balance, and + almost fell. + </p> + <p> + “Take care. And so you are not fond of me—in the romantic sense?” + </p> + <p> + No answer. Agatha dumb and afraid to lift her eyelids. + </p> + <p> + “That is fortunate,” he continued, “because—good evening, Miss Ward; + I have done nothing but admire your skating for the last hour—because + men were deceivers ever; and I am no exception, as you will presently + admit.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha murmured something, but it was unintelligible amid the din of + skating. + </p> + <p> + “You think not? Well, perhaps you are right; I have said nothing to you + that is not in a measure true. You have always had a peculiar charm for + me. But I did not mean you to tell Hetty. Can you guess why?” + </p> + <p> + Agatha shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Because she is my wife.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha’s ankles became limp. With an effort she kept upright until she + reached Jane, to whom she clung for support. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t,” screamed Jane. “You’ll upset me.” + </p> + <p> + “I must sit down,” said Agatha. “I am tired. Let me lean on you until we + get to the chairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Bosh! I can skate for an hour without sitting down,” said Jane. However, + she helped Agatha to a chair and left her. Then Smilash, as if desiring a + rest also, sat down close by on the margin of the pond. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, without troubling himself as to whether their + conversation attracted attention or not, “what do you think of me now?” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not tell me before, Mr. Trefusis?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the cream of the joke,” he replied, poising his heels on the ice + so that his skates stood vertically at legs’ length from him, and looking + at them with a cynical air. “I thought you were in love with me, and that + the truth would be too severe a blow to you. Ha! ha! And, for the same + reason, you generously forbore to tell me that you were no more in love + with me than with the man in the moon. Each played a farce, and palmed it + off on the other as a tragedy.” + </p> + <p> + “There are some things so unmanly, so unkind, and so cruel,” said Agatha, + “that I cannot understand any gentleman saying them to a girl. Please do + not speak to me again. Miss Ward! Come to me for a moment. I—I am + not well.” + </p> + <p> + Ward hurried to her side. Smilash, after staring at her for a moment in + astonishment, and in some concern, skimmed away into the crowd. When he + reached the opposite bank he took off his skates and asked Jane, who + strayed intentionally in his direction, to tell Miss Wylie that he was + gone, and would skate no more there. Without adding a word of explanation + he left her and made for his dwelling. As he went down into the hollow + where the road passed through the plantation on the college side of the + chalet he descried a boy, in the uniform of the post office, sliding along + the frozen ditch. A presentiment of evil tidings came upon him like a + darkening of the sky. He quickened his pace. + </p> + <p> + “Anything for me?” he said. + </p> + <p> + The boy, who knew him, fumbled in a letter case and produced a buff + envelope. It contained a telegram. + </p> + <p> + From Jansenius, London. + </p> + <p> + TO J. Smilash, Chamoounix Villa, Lyvern. + </p> + <p> + Henrietta dangerously ill after journey wants to see you doctors say must + come at once. + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. Then he folded the paper methodically and put it in his + pocket, as if quite done with it. + </p> + <p> + “And so,” he said, “perhaps the tragedy is to follow the farce after all.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at the boy, who retreated, not liking his expression. + </p> + <p> + “Did you slide all the way from Lyvern?” + </p> + <p> + “Only to come quicker,” said the messenger, faltering. “I came as quick as + I could.” + </p> + <p> + “You carried news heavy enough to break the thickest ice ever frozen. I + have a mind to throw you over the top of that tree instead of giving you + this half-crown.” + </p> + <p> + “You let me alone,” whimpered the boy, retreating another pace. + </p> + <p> + “Get back to Lyvern as fast as you can run or slide, and tell Mr. Marsh to + send me the fastest trap he has, to drive me to the railway station. Here + is your half-crown. Off with you; and if I do not find the trap ready when + I want it, woe betide you.” + </p> + <p> + The boy came for the money mistrustfully, and ran off with it as fast as + he could. Smilash went into the chalet and never reappeared. Instead, + Trefusis, a gentleman in an ulster, carrying a rug, came out, locked the + door, and hurried along the road to Lyvern, where he was picked up by the + trap, and carried swiftly to the railway station, just in time to catch + the London train. + </p> + <p> + “Evening paper, sir?” said a voice at the window, as he settled himself in + the corner of a first-class carriage. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Footwarmer, sir?” said a porter, appearing in the news-vender’s place. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s a good idea. Yes, let me have a footwarmer.” + </p> + <p> + The footwarmer was brought, and Trefusis composed himself comfortably for + his journey. It seemed very short to him; he could hardly believe, when + the train arrived in London, that he had been nearly three hours on the + way. + </p> + <p> + There was a sense of Christmas about the travellers and the people who + were at the terminus to meet them. The porter who came to the carriage + door reminded Trefusis by his manner and voice that the season was one at + which it becomes a gentleman to be festive and liberal. + </p> + <p> + “Wot luggage, sir? Hansom or fourweoll, sir?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Trefusis felt a vagabond impulse to resume the language of + Smilash and fable to the man of hampers of turkey and plum-pudding in the + van. But he repressed it, got into a hansom, and was driven to his + father-in-law’s house in Belsize Avenue, studying in a gloomily critical + mood the anxiety that surged upon him and made his heart beat like a boy’s + as he drew near his destination. There were two carriages at the door when + he alighted. The reticent expression of the coachmen sent a tremor through + him. + </p> + <p> + The door opened before he rang. “If you please, sir,” said the maid in a + low voice, “will you step into the library; and the doctor will see you + immediately.” + </p> + <p> + On the first landing of the staircase two gentlemen were speaking to Mr. + Jansenius, who hastily moved out of sight, not before a glimpse of his air + of grief and discomfiture had given Trefusis a strange twinge, succeeded + by a sensation of having been twenty years a widower. He smiled + unconcernedly as he followed the girl into the library, and asked her how + she did. She murmured some reply and hurried away, thinking that the poor + young man would alter his tone presently. + </p> + <p> + He was joined at once by a gray whiskered gentleman, scrupulously dressed + and mannered. Trefusis introduced himself, and the physician looked at him + with some interest. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “You have arrived too late, Mr. Trefusis. All is over, I am sorry to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the long railway journey she took in this cold weather the cause of + her death?” + </p> + <p> + Some bitter words that the physician had heard upstairs made him aware + that this was a delicate question. But he said quietly: “The proximate + cause, doubtless. The proximate cause.” + </p> + <p> + “She received some unwelcome and quite unlooked-for intelligence before + she started. Had that anything to do with her death, do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “It may have produced an unfavorable effect,” said the physician, growing + restive and taking up his gloves. “The habit of referring such events to + such causes is carried too far, as a rule.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt. I am curious because the event is novel in my experience. I + suppose it is a commonplace in yours. Pardon me. The loss of a lady so + young and so favorably circumstanced is not a commonplace either in my + experience or in my opinion.” The physician held up his head as he spoke, + in protest against any assumption that his sympathies had been blunted by + his profession. + </p> + <p> + “Did she suffer?” + </p> + <p> + “For some hours, yes. We were able to do a little to alleviate her pain—poor + thing!” He almost forgot Trefusis as he added the apostrophe. + </p> + <p> + “Hours of pain! Can you conceive any good purpose that those hours may + have served?” + </p> + <p> + The physician shook his head, leaving it doubtful whether he meant to + reply in the negative or to deplore considerations of that nature. He also + made a movement to depart, being uneasy in conversation with Trefusis, who + would, he felt sure, presently ask questions or make remarks with which he + could hardly deal without committing himself in some direction. His + conscience was not quite at rest. Henrietta’s pain had not, he thought, + served any good purpose; but he did not want to say so, lest he should + acquire a reputation for impiety and lose his practice. He believed that + the general practitioner who attended the family, and had called him in + when the case grew serious, had treated Henrietta unskilfully, but + professional etiquette bound him so strongly that, sooner than betray his + colleague’s inefficiency, he would have allowed him to decimate London. + </p> + <p> + “One word more,” said Trefusis. “Did she know that she was dying?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I considered it best that she should not be informed of her danger. + She passed away without any apprehension.” + </p> + <p> + “Then one can think of it with equanimity. She dreaded death, poor child. + The wonder is that there was not enough folly in the household to prevail + against your good sense.” + </p> + <p> + The physician bowed and took his leave, esteeming himself somewhat + fortunate in escaping without being reproached for his humanity in having + allowed Henrietta to die unawares. + </p> + <p> + A moment later the general practitioner entered. Trefusis, having + accompanied the consulting physician to the door, detected the family + doctor in the act of pulling a long face just outside it. Restraining a + desire to seize him by the throat, he seated himself on the edge of the + table and said cheerfully: + </p> + <p> + “Well, doctor, how has the world used you since we last met?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor was taken aback, but the solemn disposition of his features did + not relax as he almost intoned: “Has Sir Francis told you the sad news, + Mr. Trefusis?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Frightful, isn’t it? Lord bless me, we’re here to-day and gone + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “True, very true!” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Francis has a high opinion of you.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor looked a little foolish. “Everything was done that could be + done, Mr. Trefusis; but Mrs. Jansenius was very anxious that no stone + should be left unturned. She was good enough to say that her sole reason + for wishing me to call in Sir Francis was that you should have no cause to + complain.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “An excellent mother! A sad event for her! Ah, yes, yes! Dear me! A very + sad event!” + </p> + <p> + “Most disagreeable. Such a cold day too. Pleasanter to be in heaven than + here in such weather, possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the doctor, as if much sound comfort lay in that. “I hope so; I + hope so; I do not doubt it. Sir Francis did not permit us to tell her, and + I, of course, deferred to him. Perhaps it was for the best.” + </p> + <p> + “You would have told her, then, if Sir Francis had not objected?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there are, you see, considerations which we must not ignore in our + profession. Death is a serious thing, as I am sure I need not remind you, + Mr. Trefusis. We have sometimes higher duties than indulgence to the + natural feelings of our patients.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so. The possibility of eternal bliss and the probability of eternal + torment are consolations not to be lightly withheld from a dying girl, eh? + However, what’s past cannot be mended. I have much to be thankful for, + after all. I am a young man, and shall not cut a bad figure as a widower. + And now tell me, doctor, am I not in very bad repute upstairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Trefusis! Sir! I cannot meddle in family matters. I understand my + duties and never over step them.” The doctor, shocked at last, spoke as + loftily as he could. + </p> + <p> + “Then I will go and see Mr. Jansenius,” said Trefusis, getting off the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Stay, sir! One moment. I have not finished. Mrs. Jansenius has asked me + to ask—I was about to say that I am not speaking now as the medical + adviser of this family; but although an old friend—and—ahem! + Mrs. Jansenius has asked me to ask—to request you to excuse Mr. + Jansenius, as he is prostrated by grief, and is, as I can—as a + medical man—assure you, unable to see anyone. She will speak to you + herself as soon as she feels able to do so—at some time this + evening. Meanwhile, of course, any orders you may give—you must be + fatigued by your journey, and I always recommend people not to fast too + long; it produces an acute form of indigestion—any orders you may + wish to give will, of course, be attended to at once.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Trefusis, after a moment’s reflection, “I will order a + hansom.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no ill-feeling,” said the doctor, who, as a slow man, was + usually alarmed by prompt decisions, even when they seemed wise to him, as + this one did. “I hope you have not gathered from anything I have said—” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; you have displayed the utmost tact. But I think I had better + go. Jansenius can bear death and misery with perfect fortitude when it is + on a large scale and hidden in a back slum. But when it breaks into his + own house, and attacks his property—his daughter was his property + until very recently—he is just the man to lose his head and quarrel + with me for keeping mine.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor was unable to cope with this speech, which conveyed vaguely + monstrous ideas to him. Seeing Trefusis about to leave, he said in a low + voice: “Will you go upstairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Upstairs! Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I thought you might wish to see—” He did not finish the + sentence, but Trefusis flinched; the blank had expressed what was meant. + </p> + <p> + “To see something that was Henrietta, and that is a thing we must cast out + and hide, with a little superstitious mumming to save appearances. Why did + you remind me of it?” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir, whatever your views may be, will you not, as a matter of form, + in deference to the feelings of the family—” + </p> + <p> + “Let them spare their feelings for the living, on whose behalf I have + often appealed to them in vain,” cried Trefusis, losing patience. “Damn + their feelings!” And, turning to the door, he found it open, and Mrs. + Jansenius there listening. + </p> + <p> + Trefusis was confounded. He knew what the effect of his speech must be, + and felt that it would be folly to attempt excuse or explanation. He put + his hands into his pockets, leaned against the table, and looked at her, + mutely wondering what would follow on her part. + </p> + <p> + The doctor broke the silence by saying tremulously, “I have communicated + the melancholy intelligence to Mr. Trefusis.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you told him also,” she said sternly, “that, however deficient we + may be in feeling, we did everything that lay in our power for our child.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite satisfied,” said Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt you are—with the result,” said Mrs. Jansenius, hardly. “I + wish to know whether you have anything to complain of.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Please do not imply that anything has happened through our neglect.” + </p> + <p> + “What have I to complain of? She had a warm room and a luxurious bed to + die in, with the best medical advice in the world. Plenty of people are + starving and freezing to-day that we may have the means to die + fashionably; ask THEM if they have any cause for complaint. Do you think I + will wrangle over her body about the amount of money spent on her illness? + What measure is that of the cause she had for complaint? I never grudged + money to her—how could I, seeing that more than I can waste is given + to me for nothing? Or how could you? Yet she had great reason to complain + of me. You will allow that to be so.” + </p> + <p> + “It is perfectly true.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, when I am in the humor for it, I will reproach myself and not you.” + He paused, and then turned forcibly on her, saying, “Why do you select + this time, of all others, to speak so bitterly to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not aware that I have said anything to call for such a remark. Did + YOU,” (appealing to the doctor) “hear me say anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Trefusis does not mean to say that you did, I am sure. Oh, no. Mr. + Trefusis’s feelings are naturally—are harrowed. That is all.” + </p> + <p> + “My feelings!” cried Trefusis impatiently. “Do you suppose my feelings are + a trumpery set of social observances, to be harrowed to order and + exhibited at funerals? She has gone as we three shall go soon enough. If + we were immortal, we might reasonably pity the dead. As we are not, we had + better save our energies to minimize the harm we are likely to do before + we follow her.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor was deeply offended by this speech, for the statement that he + should one day die seemed to him a reflection upon his professional + mastery over death. Mrs. Jansenius was glad to see Trefusis confirming her + bad opinion and report of him by his conduct and language in the doctor’s + presence. There was a brief pause, and then Trefusis, too far out of + sympathy with them to be able to lead the conversation into a kinder vein, + left the room. In the act of putting on his overcoat in the hall, he + hesitated, and hung it up again irresolutely. Suddenly he ran upstairs. At + the sound of his steps a woman came from one of the rooms and looked + inquiringly at him. + </p> + <p> + “Is it here?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + A painful sense of constriction came in his chest, and he turned pale and + stopped with his hand on the lock. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be afraid, sir,” said the woman, with an encouraging smile. “She + looks beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her with a strange grin, as if she had uttered a ghastly but + irresistible joke. Then he went in, and, when he reached the bed, wished + he had stayed without. He was not one of those who, seeing little in the + faces of the living miss little in the faces of the dead. The arrangement + of the black hair on the pillow, the soft drapery, and the flowers placed + there by the nurse to complete the artistic effect to which she had so + confidently referred, were lost on him; he saw only a lifeless mask that + had been his wife’s face, and at sight of it his knees failed, and he had + to lean for support on the rail at the foot of the bed. + </p> + <p> + When he looked again the face seemed to have changed. It was no longer a + waxlike mask, but Henrietta, girlish and pathetically at rest. Death + seemed to have cancelled her marriage and womanhood; he had never seen her + look so young. A minute passed, and then a tear dropped on the coverlet. + He started; shook another tear on his hand, and stared at it + incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “This is a fraud of which I have never even dreamed,” he said. “Tears and + no sorrow! Here am I crying! growing maudlin! whilst I am glad that she is + gone and I free. I have the mechanism of grief in me somewhere; it begins + to turn at sight of her though I have no sorrow; just as she used to start + the mechanism of passion when I had no love. And that made no difference + to her; whilst the wheels went round she was satisfied. I hope the + mechanism of grief will flag and stop in its spinning as soon as the other + used to. It is stopping already, I think. What a mockery! Whilst it lasts + I suppose I am really sorry. And yet, would I restore her to life if I + could? Perhaps so; I am therefore thankful that I cannot.” He folded his + arms on the rail and gravely addressed the dead figure, which still + affected him so strongly that he had to exert his will to face it with + composure. “If you really loved me, it is well for you that you are dead—idiot + that I was to believe that the passion you could inspire, you poor child, + would last. We are both lucky; I have escaped from you, and you have + escaped from yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Presently he breathed more freely and looked round the room to help + himself into a matter-of-fact vein by a little unembarrassed action, and + the commonplace aspect of the bedroom furniture. He went to the pillow, + and bent over it, examining the face closely. + </p> + <p> + “Poor child!” he said again, tenderly. Then, with sudden reaction, + apostrophizing himself instead of his wife, “Poor ass! Poor idiot! Poor + jackanapes! Here is the body of a woman who was nearly as old as myself, + and perhaps wiser, and here am I moralizing over it as if I were God + Almighty and she a baby! The more you remind a man of what he is, the more + conceited he becomes. Monstrous! I shall feel immortal presently.” + </p> + <p> + He touched the cheek with a faint attempt at roughness, to feel how cold + it was. Then he touched his own, and remarked: + </p> + <p> + “This is what I am hastening toward at the express speed of sixty minutes + an hour!” He stood looking down at the face and tasting this sombre + reflection for a long time. When it palled on him, he roused himself, and + exclaimed more cheerfully: + </p> + <p> + “After all, she is not dead. Every word she uttered—every idea she + formed and expressed, was an inexhaustible and indestructible impulse.” He + paused, considered a little further, and relapsed into gloom, adding, “and + the dozen others whose names will be with hers in the ‘Times’ to-morrow? + Their words too are still in the air, to endure there to all eternity. Hm! + How the air must be crammed with nonsense! Two sounds sometimes produce a + silence; perhaps ideas neutralize one another in some analogous way. No, + my dear; you are dead and gone and done with, and I shall be dead and gone + and done with too soon to leave me leisure to fool myself with hopes of + immortality. Poor Hetty! Well, good-by, my darling. Let us pretend for a + moment that you can hear that; I know it will please you.” + </p> + <p> + All this was in a half-articulate whisper. When he ceased he still bent + over the body, gazing intently at it. Even when he had exhausted the + subject, and turned to go, he changed his mind, and looked again for a + while. Then he stood erect, apparently nerved and refreshed, and left the + room with a firm step. The woman was waiting outside. Seeing that he was + less distressed than when he entered, she said: + </p> + <p> + “I hope you are satisfied, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Delighted! Charmed! The arrangements are extremely pretty and tasteful. + Most consolatory.” And he gave her half a sovereign. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, sir,” she said, dropping a curtsey. “The poor young lady! + She was anxious to see you, sir. To hear her say that you were the only + one that cared for her! And so fretful with her mother, too. ‘Let him be + told that I am dangerously ill,’ says she, ‘and he’ll come.’ She didn’t + know how true her word was, poor thing; and she went off without being + aware of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Flattering herself and flattering me. Happy girl!” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, I know what her feelings were, sir; I have had experience.” + Here she approached him confidentially, and whispered: “The family were + again’ you, sir, and she knew it. But she wouldn’t listen to them. She + thought of nothing, when she was easy enough to think at all, but of your + coming. And—hush! Here’s the old gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis looked round and saw Mr. Jansenius, whose handsome face was white + and seamed with grief and annoyance. He drew back from the proffered hand + of his son-in-law, like an overworried child from an ill-timed attempt to + pet it. Trefusis pitied him. The nurse coughed and retired. + </p> + <p> + “Have you been speaking to Mrs. Jansenius?” said Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Jansenius offensively. + </p> + <p> + “So have I, unfortunately. Pray make my apologies to her. I was rude. The + circumstances upset me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not upset, sir,” said Jansenius loudly. “You do not care a damn.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis recoiled. + </p> + <p> + “You damned my feelings, and I will damn yours,” continued Jansenius in + the same tone. Trefusis involuntarily looked at the door through which he + had lately passed. Then, recovering himself, he said quietly: + </p> + <p> + “It does not matter. She can’t hear us.” + </p> + <p> + Before Jansenius could reply his wife hurried upstairs, caught him by the + arm, and said, “Don’t speak to him, John. And you,” she added, to + Trefusis, “WILL you begone?” + </p> + <p> + “What!” he said, looking cynically at her. “Without my dead! Without my + property! Well, be it so.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you know of the feelings of a respectable man?” persisted + Jansenius, breaking out again in spite of his wife. “Nothing is sacred to + you. This shows what Socialists are!” + </p> + <p> + “And what fathers are, and what mothers are,” retorted Trefusis, giving + way to his temper. “I thought you loved Hetty, but I see that you only + love your feelings and your respectability. The devil take both! She was + right; my love for her, incomplete as it was, was greater than yours.” And + he left the house in dudgeon. + </p> + <p> + But he stood awhile in the avenue to laugh at himself and his + father-in-law. Then he took a hansom and was driven to the house of his + solicitor, whom he wished to consult on the settlement of his late wife’s + affairs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + The remains of Henrietta Trefusis were interred in Highgate Cemetery the + day before Christmas Eve. Three noblemen sent their carriages to the + funeral, and the friends and clients of Mr. Jansenius, to a large number, + attended in person. The bier was covered with a profusion of costly + Bowers. The undertaker, instructed to spare no expense, provided + long-tailed black horses, with black palls on their backs and black plumes + upon their foreheads; coachmen decorated with scarves and jack-boots, + black hammercloths, cloaks, and gloves, with many hired mourners, who, + however, would have been instantly discharged had they presumed to betray + emotion, or in any way overstep their function of walking beside the + hearse with brass-tipped batons in their hands. + </p> + <p> + Among the genuine mourners were Mr. Jansenius, who burst into tears at the + ceremony of casting earth on the coffin; the boy Arthur, who, preoccupied + by the novelty of appearing in a long cloak at the head of a public + procession, felt that he was not so sorry as he ought to be when he saw + his papa cry; and a cousin who had once asked Henrietta to marry him, and + who now, full of tragic reflections, was enjoying his despair intensely. + </p> + <p> + The rest whispered, whenever they could decently do so, about a strange + omission in the arrangements. The husband of the deceased was absent. + Members of the family and intimate friends were told by Daniel Jansenius + that the widower had acted in a blackguard way, and that the Janseniuses + did not care two-pence whether he came or stayed at home; that, but for + the indecency of the thing, they were just as glad that he was keeping + away. Others, who had no claim to be privately informed, made inquiries of + the undertaker’s foreman, who said he understood the gentleman objected to + large funerals. Asked why, he said he supposed it was on the ground of + expense. This being met by a remark that Mr. Trefusis was very wealthy, he + added that he had been told so, but believed the money had not come from + the lady; that people seldom cared to go to a great expense for a funeral + unless they came into something good by the death; and that some parties + the more they had the more they grudged. Before the funeral guests + dispersed, the report spread by Mr. Jansenius’s brother had got mixed with + the views of the foreman, and had given rise to a story of Trefusis + expressing joy at his wife’s death with frightful oaths in her father’s + house whilst she lay dead there, and refusing to pay a farthing of her + debts or funeral expenses. + </p> + <p> + Some days later, when gossip on the subject was subsiding, a fresh scandal + revived it. A literary friend of Mr. Jansenius’s helped him to compose an + epitaph, and added to it a couple of pretty and touching stanzas, setting + forth that Henrietta’s character had been one of rare sweetness and + virtue, and that her friends would never cease to sorrow for her loss. A + tradesman who described himself as a “monumental mason” furnished a book + of tomb designs, and Mr. Jansenius selected a highly ornamental one, and + proposed to defray half the cost of its erection. Trefusis objected that + the epitaph was untrue, and said that he did not see why tombstones should + be privileged to publish false statements. It was reported that he had + followed up his former misconduct by calling his father-in-law a liar, and + that he had ordered a common tombstone from some cheap-jack at the + East-end. He had, in fact, spoken contemptuously of the monumental + tradesman as an “exploiter” of labor, and had asked a young working mason, + a member of the International Association, to design a monument for the + gratification of Jansenius. + </p> + <p> + The mason, with much pains and misgiving, produced an original design. + Trefusis approved of it, and resolved to have it executed by the hands of + the designer. He hired a sculptor’s studio, purchased blocks of marble of + the dimensions and quality described to him by the mason, and invited him + to set to work forthwith. + </p> + <p> + Trefusis now encountered a difficulty. He wished to pay the mason the just + value of his work, no more and no less. But this he could not ascertain. + The only available standard was the market price, and this he rejected as + being fixed by competition among capitalists who could only secure profit + by obtaining from their workmen more products than they paid them for, and + could only tempt customers by offering a share of the unpaid-for part of + the products as a reduction in price. Thus he found that the system of + withholding the indispensable materials for production and subsistence + from the laborers, except on condition of their supporting an idle class + whilst accepting a lower standard of comfort for themselves than for that + idle class, rendered the determination of just ratios of exchange, and + consequently the practice of honest dealing, impossible. He had at last to + ask the mason what he would consider fair payment for the execution of the + design, though he knew that the man could no more solve the problem than + he, and that, though he would certainly ask as much as he thought he could + get, his demand must be limited by his poverty and by the competition of + the monumental tradesman. Trefusis settled the matter by giving double + what was asked, only imposing such conditions as were necessary to compel + the mason to execute the work himself, and not make a profit by hiring + other men at the market rate of wages to do it. + </p> + <p> + But the design was, to its author’s astonishment, to be paid for + separately. The mason, after hesitating a long time between two-pounds-ten + and five pounds, was emboldened by a fellow-workman, who treated him to + some hot whiskey and water, to name the larger sum. Trefusis paid the + money at once, and then set himself to find out how much a similar design + would have cost from the hands of an eminent Royal Academician. Happening + to know a gentleman in this position, he consulted him, and was informed + that the probable cost would be from five hundred to one thousand pounds. + Trefusis expressed his opinion that the mason’s charge was the more + reasonable, somewhat to the indignation of his artist friend, who reminded + him of the years which a Royal Academician has to spend in acquiring his + skill. Trefusis mentioned that the apprenticeship of a mason was quite as + long, twice as laborious, and not half so pleasant. The artist now began + to find Trefusis’s Socialistic views, with which he had previously fancied + himself in sympathy, both odious and dangerous. He demanded whether + nothing was to be allowed for genius. Trefusis warmly replied that genius + cost its possessor nothing; that it was the inheritance of the whole race + incidentally vested in a single individual, and that if that individual + employed his monopoly of it to extort money from others, he deserved + nothing better than hanging. The artist lost his temper, and suggested + that if Trefusis could not feel that the prerogative of art was divine, + perhaps he could understand that a painter was not such a fool as to + design a tomb for five pounds when he might be painting a portrait for a + thousand. Trefusis retorted that the fact of a man paying a thousand + pounds for a portrait proved that he had not earned the money, and was + therefore either a thief or a beggar. The common workman who sacrificed + sixpence from his week’s wages for a cheap photograph to present to his + sweetheart, or a shilling for a pair of chromolithographic pictures or + delft figures to place on his mantelboard, suffered greater privation for + the sake of possessing a work of art than the great landlord or + shareholder who paid a thousand pounds, which he was too rich to miss, for + a portrait that, like Hogarth’s Jack Sheppard, was only interesting to + students of criminal physiognomy. A lively quarrel ensued, Trefusis + denouncing the folly of artists in fancying themselves a priestly caste + when they were obviously only the parasites and favored slaves of the + moneyed classes, and his friend (temporarily his enemy) sneering bitterly + at levellers who were for levelling down instead of levelling up. Finally, + tired of disputing, and remorseful for their acrimony, they dined amicably + together. + </p> + <p> + The monument was placed in Highgate Cemetery by a small band of workmen + whom Trefusis found out of employment. It bore the following inscription: + </p> + <p> + THIS IS THE MONUMENT OF HENRIETTA JANSENIUS WHO WAS BORN ON THE 26TH JULY, + 1856, MARRIED TO SIDNEY TREFUSIS ON THE 23RD AUGUST, 1875, AND WHO DIED ON + THE 21ST DECEMBER IN THE SAME YEAR. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jansenius took this as an insult to his daughter’s memory, and, as the + tomb was much smaller than many which had been erected in the cemetery by + families to whom the Janseniuses claimed superiority, cited it as an + example of the widower’s meanness. But by other persons it was so much + admired that Trefusis hoped it would ensure the prosperity of its + designer. The contrary happened. When the mason attempted to return to his + ordinary work he was informed that he had contravened trade usage, and + that his former employers would have nothing more to say to him. On + applying for advice and assistance to the trades-union of which he was a + member he received the same reply, and was further reproached for + treachery to his fellow-workmen. He returned to Trefusis to say that the + tombstone job had ruined him. Trefusis, enraged, wrote an argumentative + letter to the “Times,” which was not inserted, a sarcastic one to the + trades-union, which did no good, and a fierce one to the employers, who + threatened to take an action for libel. He had to content himself with + setting the man to work again on mantelpieces and other decorative + stone-work for use in house property on the Trefusis estate. In a year or + two his liberal payments enabled the mason to save sufficient to start as + an employer, in which capacity he soon began to grow rich, as he knew by + experience exactly how much his workmen could be forced to do, and how + little they could be forced to take. Shortly after this change in his + circumstances he became an advocate of thrift, temperance, and steady + industry, and quitted the International Association, of which he had been + an enthusiastic supporter when dependent on his own skill and taste as a + working mason. + </p> + <p> + During these occurrences Agatha’s school-life ended. Her resolution to + study hard during another term at the college had been formed, not for the + sake of becoming learned, but that she might become more worthy of + Smilash; and when she learned the truth about him from his own lips, the + idea of returning to the scene of that humiliation became intolerable to + her. She left under the impression that her heart was broken, for her + smarting vanity, by the law of its own existence, would not perceive that + it was the seat of the injury. So she bade Miss Wilson adieu; and the bee + on the window pane was heard no more at Alton College. + </p> + <p> + The intelligence of Henrietta’s death shocked her the more because she + could not help being glad that the only other person who knew of her folly + with regard to Smilash (himself excepted) was now silenced forever. This + seemed to her a terrible discovery of her own depravity. Under its + influence she became almost religious, and caused some anxiety about her + health to her mother, who was puzzled by her unwonted seriousness, and, in + particular, by her determination not to speak of the misconduct of + Trefusis, which was now the prevailing topic of conversation in the + family. She listened in silence to gossiping discussions of his desertion + of his wife, his heartless indifference to her decease, his violence and + bad language by her deathbed, his parsimony, his malicious opposition to + the wishes of the Janseniuses, his cheap tombstone with the insulting + epitaph, his association with common workmen and low demagogues, his + suspected connection with a secret society for the assassination of the + royal family and blowing up of the army, his atheistic denial, in a + pamphlet addressed to the clergy, of a statement by the Archbishop of + Canterbury that spiritual aid alone could improve the condition of the + poor in the East-end of London, and the crowning disgrace of his trial for + seditious libel at the Old Bailey, where he was condemned to six months’ + imprisonment; a penalty from which he was rescued by the ingenuity of his + counsel, who discovered a flaw in the indictment, and succeeded, at great + cost to Trefusis, in getting the sentence quashed. Agatha at last got + tired of hearing of his misdeeds. She believed him to be heartless, + selfish, and misguided, but she knew that he was not the loud, coarse, + sensual, and ignorant brawler most of her mother’s gossips supposed him to + be. She even felt, in spite of herself, an emotion of gratitude to the few + who ventured to defend him. + </p> + <p> + Preparation for her first season helped her to forget her misadventure. + She “came out” in due time, and an extremely dull season she found it. So + much so, that she sometimes asked herself whether she should ever be happy + again. At the college there had been good fellowship, fun, rules, and + duties which were a source of strength when observed and a source of + delicious excitement when violated, freedom from ceremony, toffee making, + flights on the banisters, and appreciative audiences for the soldier in + the chimney. + </p> + <p> + In society there were silly conversations lasting half a minute, cool + acquaintanceships founded on such half-minutes, general reciprocity of + suspicion, overcrowding, insufficient ventilation, bad music badly + executed, late hours, unwholesome food, intoxicating liquors, jealous + competition in useless expenditure, husband-hunting, flirting, dancing, + theatres, and concerts. The last three, which Agatha liked, helped to make + the contrast between Alton and London tolerable to her, but they had their + drawbacks, for good partners at the dances, and good performances at the + spiritless opera and concerts, were disappointingly scarce. Flirting she + could not endure; she drove men away when they became tender, seeing in + them the falsehood of Smilash without his wit. She was considered rude by + the younger gentlemen of her circle. They discussed her bad manners among + themselves, and agreed to punish her by not asking her to dance. She thus + got rid, without knowing why, of the attentions she cared for least (she + retained a schoolgirl’s cruel contempt for “boys”), and enjoyed herself as + best she could with such of the older or more sensible men as were not + intolerant of girls. + </p> + <p> + At best the year was the least happy she had ever spent. She repeatedly + alarmed her mother by broaching projects of becoming a hospital nurse, a + public singer, or an actress. These projects led to some desultory + studies. In order to qualify herself as a nurse she read a handbook of + physiology, which Mrs. Wylie thought so improper a subject for a young + lady that she went in tears to beg Mrs. Jansenius to remonstrate with her + unruly girl. Mrs. Jansenius, better advised, was of opinion that the more + a woman knew the more wisely she was likely to act, and that Agatha would + soon drop the physiology of her own accord. This proved true. Agatha, + having finished her book by dint of extensive skipping, proceeded to study + pathology from a volume of clinical lectures. Finding her own sensations + exactly like those described in the book as symptoms of the direst + diseases, she put it by in alarm, and took up a novel, which was free from + the fault she had found in the lectures, inasmuch as none of the emotions + it described in the least resembled any she had ever experienced. + </p> + <p> + After a brief interval, she consulted a fashionable teacher of singing as + to whether her voice was strong enough for the operatic stage. He + recommended her to study with him for six years, assuring her that at the + end of that period—if she followed his directions—she should + be the greatest singer in the world. To this there was, in her mind, the + conclusive objection that in six years she should be an old woman. So she + resolved to try privately whether she could not get on more quickly by + herself. Meanwhile, with a view to the drama in case her operatic scheme + should fail, she took lessons in elocution and gymnastics. Practice in + these improved her health and spirits so much that her previous + aspirations seemed too limited. She tried her hand at all the arts in + succession, but was too discouraged by the weakness of her first attempts + to persevere. She knew that as a general rule there are feeble and + ridiculous beginnings to all excellence, but she never applied general + rules to her own case, still thinking of herself as an exception to them, + just as she had done when she romanced about Smilash. The illusions of + adolescence were thick upon her. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile her progress was creating anxieties in which she had no share. + Her paroxysms of exhilaration, followed by a gnawing sense of failure and + uselessness, were known to her mother only as “wildness” and “low + spirits,” to be combated by needlework as a sedative, or beef tea as a + stimulant. Mrs. Wylie had learnt by rote that the whole duty of a lady is + to be graceful, charitable, helpful, modest, and disinterested whilst + awaiting passively whatever lot these virtues may induce. But she had + learnt by experience that a lady’s business in society is to get married, + and that virtues and accomplishments alike are important only as + attractions to eligible bachelors. As this truth is shameful, young ladies + are left for a year or two to find it out for themselves; it is seldom + explicitly conveyed to them at their entry into society. Hence they often + throw away capital bargains in their first season, and are compelled to + offer themselves at greatly reduced prices subsequently, when their + attractions begin to stale. This was the fate which Mrs. Wylie, warned by + Mrs. Jansenius, feared for Agatha, who, time after time when a callow + gentleman of wealth and position was introduced to her, drove him + brusquely away as soon as he ventured to hint that his affections were + concerned in their acquaintanceship. The anxious mother had to console + herself with the fact that her daughter drove away the ineligible as + ruthlessly as the eligible, formed no unworldly attachments, was still + very young, and would grow less coy as she advanced in years and in what + Mrs. Jansenius called sense. + </p> + <p> + But as the seasons went by it remained questionable whether Agatha was the + more to be congratulated on having begun life after leaving school or + Henrietta on having finished it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + Brandon Beeches, in the Thames valley, was the seat of Sir Charles + Brandon, seventh baronet of that name. He had lost his father before + attaining his majority, and had married shortly afterwards; so that in his + twenty-fifth year he was father to three children. He was a little worn, + in spite of his youth, but he was tall and agreeable, had a winning way of + taking a kind and soothing view of the misfortunes of others, could tell a + story well, liked music and could play and sing a little, loved the arts + of design and could sketch a little in water colors, read every magazine + from London to Paris that criticised pictures, had travelled a little, + fished a little, shot a little, botanized a little, wandered restlessly in + the footsteps of women, and dissipated his energies through all the small + channels that his wealth opened and his talents made easy to him. He had + no large knowledge of any subject, though he had looked into many just far + enough to replace absolute unconsciousness of them with measurable + ignorance. Never having enjoyed the sense of achievement, he was troubled + with unsatisfied aspirations that filled him with melancholy and convinced + him that he was a born artist. His wife found him selfish, peevish, + hankering after change, and prone to believe that he was attacked by + dangerous disease when he was only catching cold. + </p> + <p> + Lady Brandon, who believed that he understood all the subjects he talked + about because she did not understand them herself, was one of his + disappointments. In person she resembled none of the types of beauty + striven after by the painters of her time, but she had charms to which few + men are insensible. She was tall, soft, and stout, with ample and shapely + arms, shoulders, and hips. With her small head, little ears, pretty lips, + and roguish eye, she, being a very large creature, presented an immensity + of half womanly, half infantile loveliness which smote even grave men with + a desire to clasp her in their arms and kiss her. This desire had + scattered the desultory intellectual culture of Sir Charles at first + sight. His imagination invested her with the taste for the fine arts which + he required from a wife, and he married her in her first season, only to + discover that the amativeness in her temperament was so little and languid + that she made all his attempts at fondness ridiculous, and robbed the + caresses for which he had longed of all their anticipated ecstasy. + Intellectually she fell still further short of his hopes. She looked upon + his favorite art of painting as a pastime for amateur and a branch of the + house-furnishing trade for professional artists. When he was discussing it + among his friends, she would offer her opinion with a presumption which + was the more trying as she frequently blundered upon a sound conclusion + whilst he was reasoning his way to a hollow one with his utmost subtlety + and seriousness. On such occasions his disgust did not trouble her in the + least; she triumphed in it. She had concluded that marriage was a greater + folly, and men greater fools, than she had supposed; but such beliefs + rather lightened her sense of responsibility than disappointed her, and, + as she had plenty of money, plenty of servants, plenty of visitors, and + plenty of exercise on horseback, of which she was immoderately fond, her + time passed pleasantly enough. Comfort seemed to her the natural order of + life; trouble always surprised her. Her husband’s friends, who mistrusted + every future hour, and found matter for bitter reflection in many past + ones, were to her only examples of the power of sedentary habits and + excessive reading to make men tripped and dull. + </p> + <p> + One fine May morning, as she cantered along the avenue at Brandon Beeches + on a powerful bay horse, the gates at the end opened and a young man sped + through them on a bicycle. He was of slight frame, with fine dark eyes and + delicate nostrils. When he recognized Lady Brandon he waved his cap, and + when they met he sprang from his inanimate steed, at which the bay horse + shied. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t, you silly beast!” she cried, whacking the animal with the butt of + her whip. “Though it’s natural enough, goodness knows! How d’ye do? The + idea of anyone rich enough to afford a horse riding on a wheel like that!” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not rich enough to afford a horse,” he said, approaching her to + pat the bay, having placed the bicycle against a tree. “Besides, I am + afraid of horses, not being accustomed to them; and I know nothing about + feeding them. My steed needs no food. He doesn’t bite nor kick. He never + goes lame, nor sickens, nor dies, nor needs a groom, nor—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all bosh,” said Lady Brandon impetuously. “It stumbles, and gives + you the most awful tosses, and it goes lame by its treadles and + thingamejigs coming off, and it wears out, and is twice as much trouble to + keep clean and scrape the mud off as a horse, and all sorts of things. I + think the most ridiculous sight in the world is a man on a bicycle, + working away with his feet as hard as he possibly can, and believing that + his horse is carrying him instead of, as anyone can see, he carrying the + horse. You needn’t tell me that it isn’t easier to walk in the ordinary + way than to drag a great dead iron thing along with you. It’s not good + sense.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless I can carry it a hundred miles further in a day than I can + carry myself alone. Such are the marvels of machinery. But I know that we + cut a very poor figure beside you and that magnificent creature not that + anyone will look at me whilst you are by to occupy their attention so much + more worthily.” + </p> + <p> + She darted a glance at him which clouded his vision and made his heart + beat more strongly. This was an old habit of hers. She kept it up from + love of fun, having no idea of the effect it produced on more ardent + temperaments than her own. He continued hastily: + </p> + <p> + “Is Sir Charles within doors?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of in my life,” she + exclaimed. “A man that lives by himself in a place down by the Riverside + Road like a toy savings bank—don’t you know the things I mean?—called + Sallust’s House, says there is a right of way through our new pleasure + ground. As if anyone could have any right there after all the money we + have spent fencing it on three sides, and building up the wall by the + road, and levelling, and planting, and draining, and goodness knows what + else! And now the man says that all the common people and tramps in the + neighborhood have a right to walk across it because they are too lazy to + go round by the road. Sir Charles has gone to see the man about it. Of + course he wouldn’t do as I wanted him.” + </p> + <p> + “What was that?” + </p> + <p> + “Write to tell the man to mind his own business, and to say that the first + person we found attempting to trespass on our property should be given to + the police.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall find no one at home. I beg your pardon for calling it so, + but it is the only place like home to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it is so comfortable since we built the billiard room and took away + those nasty hangings in the hall. I was ever so long trying to per—” + </p> + <p> + She was interrupted by an old laborer, who hobbled up as fast as his + rheumatism would allow him, and began to speak without further ceremony + than snatching off his cap. + </p> + <p> + “Th’ave coom to the noo groups, my lady, crowds of ‘em. An’ a parson with + ‘em, an’ a flag! Sur Chorles he don’t know what to say; an’ sooch doin’s + never was.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Brandon turned pale and pulled at her horse as if to back him out of + some danger. Her visitor, puzzled, asked the old man what he meant. + </p> + <p> + “There’s goin’ to be a proceyshon through the noo groups,” he replied, + “an’ the master can’t stop ‘em. Th’ave throon down the wall; three yards + of it is lyin’ on Riverside Road. An’ there’s a parson with ‘em, and a + flag. An’ him that lives in Sallust’s hoos, he’s there, hoddin’ ‘em on.” + </p> + <p> + “Thrown down the wall!” exclaimed Lady Brandon, scarlet with indignation + and pale with apprehension by turns. “What a disgraceful thing! Where are + the police? Chester, will you come with me and see what they are doing? + Sir Charles is no use. Do you think there is any danger?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s two police,” said the old man, “an’ him that lives at Sallust’s + dar’d them stop him. They’re lookin’ on. An’ there’s a parson among ‘em. I + see him pullin’ away at the wall with his own han’s.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go and see the fun,” said Chester. + </p> + <p> + Lady Brandon hesitated. But her anger and curiosity vanquished her fears. + She overtook the bicycle, and they went together through the gates and by + the highroad to the scene the old man had described. A heap of bricks and + mortar lay in the roadway on each side of a breach in the newly built + wall, over which Lady Brandon, from her eminence on horseback, could see, + coming towards her across the pleasure ground, a column of about thirty + persons. They marched three abreast in good order and in silence; the + expression of all except a few mirthful faces being that of devotees + fulfilling a rite. The gravity of the procession was deepened by the + appearance of a clergyman in its ranks, which were composed of men of the + middle class, and a few workmen carrying a banner inscribed THE SOIL or + ENGLAND THE BIRTHRIGHT OF ALL HER PEOPLE. There were also four women, upon + whom Lady Brandon looked with intense indignation and contempt. None of + the men of the neighborhood had dared to join; they stood in the road + whispering, and occasionally venturing to laugh at the jests of a couple + of tramps who had stopped to see the fun, and who cared nothing for Sir + Charles. + </p> + <p> + He, standing a little way within the field, was remonstrating angrily with + a man of his own class, who stood with his back to the breach and his + hands in the pockets of his snuff-colored clothes, contemplating the + procession with elate satisfaction. Lady Brandon, at once suspecting that + this was the man from Sallust’s House, and encouraged by the loyalty of + the crowd, most of whom made way for her and touched their hats, hit the + bay horse smartly with her whip and rode him, with a clatter of hoofs and + scattering of clods, right at the snuff-colored enemy, who had to spring + hastily aside to avoid her. There was a roar of laughter from the roadway, + and the man turned sharply on her. But he suddenly smiled affably, + replaced his hands in his pockets after raising his hat, and said: + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Miss Carpenter? I thought you were a charge of cavalry.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not Miss Carpenter, I am Lady Brandon; and you ought to be ashamed + of yourself, Mr. Smilash, if it is you that have brought these disgraceful + people here.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes as he replied were eloquent with reproach to her for being no + longer Miss Carpenter. “I am not Smilash,” he said; “I am Sidney Trefusis. + I have just had the pleasure of meeting Sir Charles for the first time, + and we shall be the best friends possible when I have convinced him that + it is hardly fair to seize on a path belonging to the people and compel + them to walk a mile and a half round his estate instead of four hundred + yards between two portions of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already told you, sir,” said Sir Charles, “that I intend to open a + still shorter path, and to allow all the well-conducted work-people to + pass through twice a day. This will enable them to go to their work and + return from it; and I will be at the cost of keeping the path in repair.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Trefusis drily; “but why should we trouble you when we + have a path of our own to use fifty times a day if we choose, without any + man barring our way until our conduct happens to please him? Besides, your + next heir would probably shut the path up the moment he came into + possession.” + </p> + <p> + “Offering them a path is just what makes them impudent,” said Lady Brandon + to her husband. “Why did you promise them anything? They would not think + it a hardship to walk a mile and a half, or twenty miles, to a + public-house, but when they go to their work they think it dreadful to + have to walk a yard. Perhaps they would like us to lend them the wagonette + to drive in?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt they would,” said Trefusis, beaming at her. + </p> + <p> + “Pray leave me to manage here, Jane; this is no place for you. Bring + Erskine to the house. He must be—” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t the police make them go away?” said Lady Brandon, too excited + to listen to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Jane, pray. What can three men do against thirty or forty?” + </p> + <p> + “They ought to take up somebody as an example to the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “They have offered, in the handsomest manner, to arrest me if Sir Charles + will give me in charge,” said Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “There!” said Lady Jane, turning to her husband. “Why don’t you give him—or + someone—in charge?” + </p> + <p> + “You know nothing about it,” said Sir Charles, vexed by a sense that she + was publicly making him ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + “If you don’t, I will,” she persisted. “The idea of having our ground + broken into and our new wall knocked down! A nice state of things it would + be if people were allowed to do as they liked with other peoples’ + property. I will give every one of them in charge.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you consign me to a dungeon?” said Trefusis, in melancholy tones. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean you exactly,” she said, relenting. “But I will give that + clergyman into charge, because he ought to know better. He is the + ringleader of the whole thing.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be delighted, Lady Brandon; he pines for martyrdom. But will you + really give him into custody?” + </p> + <p> + “I will,” she said vehemently, emphasizing the assurance by a plunge in + the saddle that made the bay stagger. + </p> + <p> + “On what charge?” he said, patting the horse and looking up at her. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care what charge,” she replied, conscious that she was being + admired, and not displeased. “Let them take him up, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + Human beings on horseback are so far centaurs that liberties taken with + their horses are almost as personal as liberties taken with themselves. + When Sir Charles saw Trefusis patting the bay he felt as much outraged as + if Lady Brandon herself were being patted, and he felt bitterly towards + her for permitting the familiarity. He uas relieved by the arrival of the + procession. It halted as the leader came up to Trefusis, who said gravely: + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, I congratulate you on the firmness with which you have this + day asserted the rights of the people of this place to the use of one of + the few scraps of mother earth of which they have not been despoiled.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” shouted an excited member of the procession, “three cheers + for the resumption of the land of England by the people of England! Hip, + hip, hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + The cheers were given with much spirit, Sir Charles’s cheeks becoming + redder at each repetition. He looked angrily at the clergyman, now + distracted by the charms of Lady Brandon, whose scorn, as she surveyed the + crowd, expressed itself by a pout which became her pretty lips extremely. + </p> + <p> + Then a middle-aged laborer stepped from the road into the field, hat in + hand, ducked respectfully, and said: “Look ‘e here, Sir Charles. Don’t ‘e + mind them fellers. There ain’t a man belonging to this neighborhood among + ‘em; not one in your employ or on your land. Our dooty to you and your + ladyship, and we will trust to you to do what is fair by us. We want no + interlopers from Lunnon to get us into trouble with your honor, and—” + </p> + <p> + “You unmitigated cur,” exclaimed Trefusis fiercely, “what right have you + to give away to his unborn children the liberty of your own?” + </p> + <p> + “They’re not unborn,” said Lady Brandon indignantly. “That just shows how + little you know about it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nor mine either,” said the man, emboldened by her ladyship’s support. + “And who are you that call me a cur?” + </p> + <p> + “Who am I! I am a rich man—one of your masters, and privileged to + call you what I please. You are a grovelling famine-broken slave. Now go + and seek redress against me from the law. I can buy law enough to ruin you + for less money than it would cost me to shoot deer in Scotland or vermin + here. How do you like that state of things? Eh?” + </p> + <p> + The man was taken aback. “Sir Charles will stand by me,” he said, after a + pause, with assumed confidence, but with an anxious glance at the baronet. + </p> + <p> + “If he does, after witnessing the return you have made me for standing by + you, he is a greater fool than I take him to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Gently, gently,” said the clergyman. “There is much excuse to be made for + the poor fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “As gently as you please with any man that is a free man at heart,” said + Trefusis; “but slaves must be driven, and this fellow is a slave to the + marrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, we must be patient. He does not know—” + </p> + <p> + “He knows a great deal better than you do,” said Lady Brandon, + interrupting. “And the more shame for you, because you ought to know best. + I suppose you were educated somewhere. You will not be satisfied with + yourself when your bishop hears of this. Yes,” she added, turning to + Trefusis with an infantile air of wanting to cry and being forced to laugh + against her will, “you may laugh as much as you please—don’t trouble + to pretend it’s only coughing—but we will write to his bishop, as he + shall find to his cost.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, Jane, for God’s sake,” said Sir Charles, taking her + horse by the bridle and backing him from Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “I will not. If you choose to stand here and allow them to walk away with + the walls in their pockets, I don’t, and won’t. Why cannot you make the + police do something?” + </p> + <p> + “They can do nothing,” said Sir Charles, almost beside himself with + humiliation. “I cannot do anything until I see my solicitor. How can you + bear to stay here wrangling with these fellows? It is SO undignified!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s all very well to talk of dignity, but I don’t see the dignity of + letting people trample on our grounds without leave. Mr. Smilash, will you + make them all go away, and tell them that they shall all be prosecuted and + put in prison?” + </p> + <p> + “They are going to the crossroads, to hold a public meeting and—of + course—make speeches. I am desired to say that they deeply regret + that their demonstration should have disturbed you personally, Lady + Brandon.” + </p> + <p> + “So they ought,” she replied. “They don’t look very sorry. They are + getting frightened at what they have done, and they would be glad to + escape the consequences by apologizing, most likely. But they shan’t. I am + not such a fool as they think.” + </p> + <p> + “They don’t think so. You have proved the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + “Jane,” said Sir Charles pettishly, “do you know this gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think I do,” said Lady Brandon emphatically. + </p> + <p> + Trefusis bowed as if he had just been formally introduced to the baronet, + who, against his will, returned the salutation stiffly, unable to ignore + an older, firmer, and quicker man under the circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “This seems an unneighborly business, Sir Charles,” said Trefusis, quite + at his ease; “but as it is a public question, it need not prejudice our + private relations. At least I hope not.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles bowed again, more stiffly than before. + </p> + <p> + “I am, like you, a capitalist and landlord.” + </p> + <p> + “Which it seems to me you have no right to be, if you are in earnest,” + struck in Chester, who had been watching the scene in silence by Sir + Charles’s side. + </p> + <p> + “Which, as you say, I have undoubtedly no right to be,” said Trefusis, + surveying him with interest; “but which I nevertheless cannot help being. + Have I the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Chichester Erskine, author of a + tragedy entitled ‘The Patriot Martyrs,’ dedicated with enthusiastic + devotion to the Spirit of Liberty and half a dozen famous upholders of + that principle, and denouncing in forcible language the tyranny of the + late Tsar of Russia, Bomba of Naples, and Napoleon the Third?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Erskine, reddening; for he felt that this description + might make his drama seem ridiculous to those present who had not read it. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Trefusis, extending his hand—Erskine at first thought + for a hearty shake—“give me half-a-crown towards the cost of our + expedition here to-day to assert the right of the people to tread the soil + we are standing upon.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall do nothing of the sort, Chester,” cried Lady Brandon. “I never + heard of such a thing in my life! Do you pay us for the wall and fence + your people have broken, Mr. Smilash; that would be more to the purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “If I could find a thousand men as practical as you, Lady Brandon, I might + accomplish the next great revolution before the end of this season.” He + looked at her for a moment curiously, as if trying to remember; and then + added inconsequently: “How are your friends? There was a Miss—Miss—I + am afraid I have forgotten all the names except your own.” + </p> + <p> + “Gertrude Lindsay is staying with us. Do you remember her?” + </p> + <p> + “I think—no, I am afraid I do not. Let me see. Was she a haughty + young lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lady Brandon eagerly, forgetting the wall and fence. “But who + do you think is coming next Thursday? I met her accidentally the last time + I was in town. She’s not a bit changed. You can’t forget her, so don’t + pretend to be puzzled.” + </p> + <p> + “You have not told me who she is yet. And I shall probably not remember + her. You must not expect me to recognize everyone instantaneously, as I + recognized you.” + </p> + <p> + “What stuff! You will know Agatha fast enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha Wylie!” he said, with sudden gravity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She is coming on Thursday. Are you glad?” + </p> + <p> + “I fear I shall have no opportunity of seeing her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course you must see her. It will be so jolly for us all to meet + again just as we used. Why can’t you come to luncheon on Thursday?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted, if you will really allow me to come after my + conduct here.” + </p> + <p> + “The lawyers will settle that. Now that you have found out who we are you + will stop pulling down our walls, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Trefusis, smiling, as he took out a pocket diary and + entered the engagement. “I must hurry away to the crossroads. They have + probably voted me into the chair by this time, and are waiting for me to + open their meeting. Good-bye. You have made this place, which I was + growing tired of, unexpectedly interesting to me.” + </p> + <p> + They exchanged glances of the old college pattern. Then he nodded to Sir + Charles, waved his hand familiarly to Erskine, and followed the + procession, which was by this time out of sight. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles, who, waiting to speak, had been repeatedly baffled by the + hasty speeches of his wife and the unhesitating replies of Trefusis, now + turned angrily upon her, saying: + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by inviting that fellow to my house?” + </p> + <p> + “Your house, indeed! I will invite whom I please. You are getting into one + of your tempers.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles looked about him. Erskine had discreetly slipped away, and was + in the road, tightening a screw in his bicycle. The few persons who + remained were out of earshot. + </p> + <p> + “Who and what the devil is he, and how do you come to know him?” he + demanded. He never swore in the presence of any lady except his wife, and + then only when they were alone. + </p> + <p> + “He is a gentleman, which is more than you are,” she retorted, and, with a + cut of her whip that narrowly missed her husband’s shoulder, sent the bay + plunging through the gap. + </p> + <p> + “Come along,” she said to Erskine. “We shall be late for luncheon.” + </p> + <p> + “Had we not better wait for Sir Charles?” he asked injudiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind Sir Charles, he is in the sulks,” she said, without abating + her voice. “Come along.” And she went off at a canter, Erskine following + her with a misgiving that his visit was unfortunately timed. <a + name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + On the following Thursday Gertrude, Agatha, and Jane met for the first + time since they had parted at Alton College. Agatha was the shyest of the + three, and externally the least changed. She fancied herself very + different from the Agatha of Alton; but it was her opinion of herself that + had altered, not her person. Expecting to find a corresponding alteration + in her friends, she had looked forward to the meeting with much doubt and + little hope of its proving pleasant. + </p> + <p> + She was more anxious about Gertrude than about Jane, concerning whom, at a + brief interview in London, she had already discovered that Lady Brandon’s + manner, mind, and speech were just what Miss Carpenter’s had been. But, + even from Agatha, Jane commanded more respect than before, having changed + from an overgrown girl into a fine woman, and made a brilliant match in + her first season, whilst many of her pretty, proud, and clever + contemporaries, whom she had envied at school, were still unmarried, and + were having their homes made uncomfortable by parents anxious to get rid + of the burthen of supporting them, and to profit in purse or position by + their marriages. + </p> + <p> + This was Gertrude’s case. Like Agatha, she had thrown away her matrimonial + opportunities. Proud of her rank and exclusiveness, she had resolved to + have as little as possible to do with persons who did not share both with + her. She began by repulsing the proffered acquaintance of many families of + great wealth and fashion, who either did not know their grandparents or + were ashamed of them. Having shut herself out of their circle, she was + presented at court, and thenceforth accepted the invitations of those only + who had, in her opinion, a right to the same honor. And she was far + stricter on that point than the Lord Chamberlain, who had, she held, + betrayed his trust by practically turning Leveller. She was well educated, + refined in her manners and habits, skilled in etiquette to an extent + irritating to the ignorant, and gifted with a delicate complexion, pearly + teeth, and a face that would have been Grecian but for a slight upward + tilt of the nose and traces of a square, heavy type in the jaw. Her father + was a retired admiral, with sufficient influence to have had a sinecure + made by a Conservative government expressly for the maintenance of his son + pending alliance with some heiress. Yet Gertrude remained single, and the + admiral, who had formerly spent more money than he could comfortably + afford on her education, and was still doing so upon her state and + personal adornment, was complaining so unpleasantly of her failure to get + taken off his hands, that she could hardly bear to live at home, and was + ready to marry any thoroughbred gentleman, however unsuitable his age or + character, who would relieve her from her humiliating dependence. She was + prepared to sacrifice her natural desire for youth, beauty, and virtue in + a husband if she could escape from her parents on no easier terms, but she + was resolved to die an old maid sooner than marry an upstart. + </p> + <p> + The difficulty in her way was pecuniary. The admiral was poor. He had not + quite six thousand a year, and though he practiced the utmost economy in + order to keep up the most expensive habits, he could not afford to give + his daughter a dowry. Now the well born bachelors of her set, having more + blue bood, but much less wealth, than they needed, admired her, paid her + compliments, danced with her, but could not afford to marry her. Some of + them even told her so, married rich daughters of tea merchants, iron + founders, or successful stocktrokers, and then tried to make matches + between her and their lowly born brothers-in-law. + </p> + <p> + So, when Gertrude met Lady Brandon, her lot was secretly wretched, and she + was glad to accept an invitation to Brandon Beeches in order to escape for + a while from the admiral’s daily sarcasms on the marriage list in the + “Times.” The invitation was the more acceptable because Sir Charles was no + mushroom noble, and, in the schooldays which Gertrude now remembered as + the happiest of her life, she had acknowledged that Jane’s family and + connections were more aristocratic than those of any other student then at + Alton, herself excepted. To Agatha, whose grandfather had amassed wealth + as a proprietor of gasworks (novelties in his time), she had never offered + her intimacy. Agatha had taken it by force, partly moral, partly physical. + But the gasworks were never forgotten, and when Lady Brandon mentioned, as + a piece of delightful news, that she had found out their old school + companion, and had asked her to join them, Gertrude was not quite pleased. + Yet, when they met, her eyes were the only wet ones there, for she was the + least happy of the three, and, though she did not know it, her spirit was + somewhat broken. Agatha, she thought, had lost the bloom of girlhood, but + was bolder, stronger, and cleverer than before. Agatha had, in fact, + summoned all her self-possession to hide her shyness. She detected the + emotion of Gertrude, who at the last moment did not try to conceal it. It + would have been poured out freely in words, had Gertrude’s social training + taught her to express her feelings as well as it had accustomed her to + dissemble them. + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember Miss Wilson?” said Jane, as the three drove from the + railway station to Brandon Beeches. “Do you remember Mrs. Miller and her + cat? Do you remember the Recording Angel? Do you remember how I fell into + the canal?” + </p> + <p> + These reminiscences lasted until they reached the house and went together + to Agatha’s room. Here Jane, having some orders to give in the household, + had to leave them—reluctantly; for she was jealous lest Gertrude + should get the start of her in the renewal of Agatha’s affection. She even + tried to take her rival away with her; but in vain. Gertrude would not + budge. + </p> + <p> + “What a beautiful house and splendid place!” said Agatha when Jane was + gone. “And what a nice fellow Sir Charles is! We used to laugh at Jane, + but she can afford to laugh at the luckiest of us now. I always said she + would blunder into the best of everything. Is it true that she married in + her first season?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And Sir Charles is a man of great culture. I cannot understand it. + Her size is really beyond everything, and her manners are bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm!” said Agatha with a wise air. “There was always something about Jane + that attracted men. And she is more knave than fool. But she is certainly + a great ass.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude looked serious, to imply that she had grown out of the habit of + using or listening to such language. Agatha, stimulated by this, + continued: + </p> + <p> + “Here are you and I, who consider ourselves twice as presentable and + conversable as she, two old maids.” Gertrude winced, and Agatha hastened + to add: “Why, as for you, you are perfectly lovely! And she has asked us + down expressly to marry us.” + </p> + <p> + “She would not presume—” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, my dear Gertrude. She thinks that we are a couple of fools who + have mismanaged our own business, and that she, having managed so well for + herself, can settle us in a jiffy. Come, did she not say to you, before I + came, that it was time for me to be getting married?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she did. But—” + </p> + <p> + “She said exactly the same thing to me about you when she invited me.” + </p> + <p> + “I would leave her house this moment,” said Gertrude, “if I thought she + dared meddle in my affairs. What is it to her whether I am married or + not?” + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been living all these years, if you do not know that the + very first thing a woman wants to do when she has made a good match is to + make ones for all her spinster friends. Jane does not mean any harm. She + does it out of pure benevolence.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not need Jane’s benevolence.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I; but it doesn’t do any harm, and she is welcome to amuse + herself by trotting out her male acquaintances for my approval. Hush! Here + she comes.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude subsided. She could not quarrel with Lady Brandon without leaving + the house, and she could not leave the house without returning to her + home. But she privately resolved to discourage the attentions of Erskine, + suspecting that instead of being in love with her as he pretended, he had + merely been recommended by Jane to marry her. + </p> + <p> + Chichester Erskine had made sketches in Palestine with Sir Charles, and + had tramped with him through many European picture galleries. He was a + young man of gentle birth, and had inherited fifteen hundred a year from + his mother, the bulk of the family property being his elder brother’s. + Having no profession, and being fond of books and pictures, he had devoted + himself to fine art, a pursuit which offered him on the cheapest terms a + high opinion of the beauty and capacity of his own nature. He had + published a tragedy entitled, “The Patriot Martyrs,” with an etched + frontispiece by Sir Charles, and an edition of it had been speedily + disposed of in presentations to the friends of the artist and poet, and to + the reviews and newspapers. Sir Charles had asked an eminent tragedian of + his acquaintance to place the work on the stage and to enact one of the + patriot martyrs. But the tragedian had objected that the other patriot + martyrs had parts of equal importance to that proposed for him. Erskine + had indignantly refused to cut these parts down or out, and so the project + had fallen through. + </p> + <p> + Since then Erskine had been bent on writing another drama, without regard + to the exigencies of the stage, but he had not yet begun it, in + consequence of his inspiration coming upon him at inconvenient hours, + chiefly late at night, when he had been drinking, and had leisure for + sonnets only. The morning air and bicycle riding were fatal to the vein in + which poetry struck him as being worth writing. In spite of the bicycle, + however, the drama, which was to be entitled “Hypatia,” was now in a fair + way to be written, for the poet had met and fallen in love with Gertrude + Lindsay, whose almost Grecian features, and some knowledge of the + different calculua which she had acquired at Alton, helped him to believe + that she was a fit model for his heroine. + </p> + <p> + When the ladies came downstairs they found their host and Erskine in the + picture gallery, famous in the neighborhood for the sum it had cost Sir + Charles. There was a new etching to be admired, and they were called on to + observe what the baronet called its tones, and what Agatha would have + called its degrees of smudginess. Sir Charles’s attention often wandered + from this work of art. He looked at his watch twice, and said to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “I have ordered them to be punctual with the luncheon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; it’s all right,” said Lady Brandon, who had given orders that + luncheon was not to be served until the arrival of another gentleman. + “Show Agatha the picture of the man in the—” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Trefusis,” said a servant. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Trefusis, still in snuff color, entered; coat unbuttoned and attention + unconstrained; exasperatingly unconscious of any occasion for ceremony. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are at last,” said Lady Brandon. “You know everybody, don’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + “How do you do?” said Sir Charles, offering his hand as a severe + expression of his duty to his wife’s guest, who took it cordially, nodded + to Erskine, looked without recognition at Gertrude, whose frosty stillness + repudiated Lady Brandon’s implication that the stranger was acquainted + with her, and turned to Agatha, to whom he bowed. She made no sign; she + was paralyzed. Lady Brandon reddened with anger. Sir Charles noted his + guest’s reception with secret satisfaction, but shared the embarrassment + which oppressed all present except Trefusis, who seemed quite indifferent + and assured, and unconsciously produced an impression that the others had + not been equal to the occasion, as indeed they had not. + </p> + <p> + “We were looking at some etchings when you came in,” said Sir Charles, + hastening to break the silence. “Do you care for such things?” And he + handed him a proof. + </p> + <p> + Trefusis looked at it as if he had never seen such a thing before and did + not quite know what to make of it. “All these scratches seem to me to have + no meaning,” he said dubiously. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles stole a contemptuous smile and significant glance at Erskine. + He, seized already with an instinctive antipathy to Trefusis, said + emphatically: + </p> + <p> + “There is not one of those scratches that has not a meaning.” + </p> + <p> + “That one, for instance, like the limb of a daddy-long-legs. What does + that mean?” + </p> + <p> + Erskine hesitated a moment; recovered himself; and said: “Obviously enough—to + me at least—it indicates the marking of the roadway.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it,” said Trefusis. “There never was such a mark as that on + a road. It may be a very bad attempt at a briar, but briars don’t straggle + into the middle of roads frequented as that one seems to be—judging + by those overdone ruts.” He put the etching away, showing no disposition + to look further into the portfolio, and remarked, “The only art that + interests me is photography.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine and Sir Charles again exchanged glances, and the former said: + </p> + <p> + “Photography is not an art in the sense in which I understand the term. It + is a process.” + </p> + <p> + “And a much less troublesome and more perfect process than that,” said + Trefusis, pointing to the etching. “The artists are sticking to the old + barbarous, difficult, and imperfect processes of etching and portrait + painting merely to keep up the value of their monopoly of the required + skill. They have left the new, more complexly organized, and more perfect, + yet simple and beautiful method of photography in the hands of tradesmen, + sneering at it publicly and resorting to its aid surreptitiously. The + result is that the tradesmen are becoming better artists than they, and + naturally so; for where, as in photography, the drawing counts for + nothing, the thought and judgment count for everything; whereas in the + etching and daubing processes, where great manual skill is needed to + produce anything that the eye can endure, the execution counts for more + than the thought, and if a fellow only fit to carry bricks up a ladder or + the like has ambition and perseverance enough to train his hand and push + into the van, you cannot afford to put him back into his proper place, + because thoroughly trained hands are so scarce. Consider the proof of this + that you have in literature. Our books are manually the work of printers + and papermakers; you may cut an author’s hand off and he is as good an + author as before. What is the result? There is more imagination in any + number of a penny journal than in half-a-dozen of the Royal Academy rooms + in the season. No author can live by his work and be as empty-headed as an + average successful painter. Again, consider our implements of music—our + pianofortes, for example. Nobody but an acrobat will voluntarily spend + years at such a difficult mechanical puzzle as the keyboard, and so we + have to take our impressions of Beethoven’s sonatas from acrobats who vie + with each other in the rapidity of their prestos, or the staying power of + their left wrists. Thoughtful men will not spend their lives acquiring + sleight-of-hand. Invent a piano which will respond as delicately to the + turning of a handle as our present ones do to the pressure of the fingers, + and the acrobats will be driven back to their carpets and trapezes, + because the sole faculty necessary to the executant musician will be the + musical faculty, and no other will enable him to obtain a hearing.” + </p> + <p> + The company were somewhat overcome by this unexpected lecture. Sir + Charles, feeling that such views bore adversely on him, and were somehow + iconoclastic and low-lived, was about to make a peevish retort, when + Erskine forestalled him by asking Trefusis what idea he had formed of the + future of the arts. He replied promptly. “Photography perfected in its + recently discovered power of reproducing color as well as form! Historical + pictures replaced by photographs of tableaux vivants formed and arranged + by trained actors and artists, and used chiefly for the instruction of + children. Nine-tenths of painting as we understand it at present + extinguished by the competition of these photographs, and the remaining + tenth only holding its own against them by dint of extraordinary + excellence! Our mistuned and unplayable organs and pianofortes replaced by + harmonious instruments, as manageable as barrel organs! Works of fiction + superseded by interesting company and conversation, and made obsolete by + the human mind outgrowing the childishness that delights in the tales told + by grownup children such as novelists and their like! An end to the silly + confusion, under the one name of Art, of the tomfoolery and make-believe + of our play-hours with the higher methods of teaching men to know + themselves! Every artist an amateur, and a consequent return to the + healthy old disposition to look on every man who makes art a means of + money-getting as a vagabond not to be entertained as an equal by honest + men!” + </p> + <p> + “In which case artists will starve, and there will be no more art.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Trefusis, excited by the word, “I, as a Socialist, can tell + you that starvation is now impossible, except where, as in England, + masterless men are forcibly prevented from producing the food they need. + And you, as an artist, can tell me that at present great artists + invariably do starve, except when they are kept alive by charity, private + fortune, or some drudgery which hinders them in the pursuit of their + vocation.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Erskine. “Then Socialists have some little sympathy with + artists after all.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear,” said Trefusis, repressing himself and speaking quietly again, + “that when a Socialist hears of a hundred pounds paid for a drawing which + Andrea del Sarto was glad to sell for tenpence, his heart is not wrung + with pity for the artist’s imaginary loss as that of a modern capitalist + is. Yet that is the only way nowadays of enlisting sympathy for the old + masters. Frightful disability, to be out of the reach of the dearest + market when you want to sell your drawings! But,” he added, giving himself + a shake, and turning round gaily, “I did not come here to talk shop. So—pending + the deluge—let us enjoy ourselves after our manner.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Jane. “Please go on about Art. It’s such a relief to hear + anyone talking sensibly about it. I hate etching. It makes your eyes sore—at + least the acid gets into Sir Charles’s, and the difference between the + first and second states is nothing but imagination, except that the last + state is worse than the—here’s luncheon!” + </p> + <p> + They went downstairs then. Trefusis sat between Agatha and Lady Brandon, + to whom he addressed all his conversation. They chatted without much + interruption from the business of the table; for Jane, despite her + amplitude, had a small appetite, and was fearful of growing fat; whilst + Trefusis was systematically abstemious. Sir Charles was unusually silent. + He was afraid to talk about art, lest he should be contradicted by + Trefusis, who, he already felt, cared less and perhaps knew more about it + than he. Having previously commented to Agatha on the beauty of the + ripening spring, and inquired whether her journey had fatigued her, he had + said as much as he could think of at a first meeting. For her part, she + was intent on Trefusis, who, though he must know, she thought, that they + were all hostile to him except Jane, seemed as confident now as when he + had befooled her long ago. That thought set her teeth on edge. She did not + doubt the sincerity of her antipathy to him even when she detected herself + in the act of protesting inwardly that she was not glad to meet him again, + and that she would not speak to him. Gertrude, meanwhile, was giving short + answers to Erskine and listening to Trefusis. She had gathered from the + domestic squabbles of the last few days that Lady Brandon, against her + husband’s will, had invited a notorious demagogue, the rich son of a + successful cotton-spinner, to visit the Beeches. She had made up her mind + to snub any such man. But on recognizing the long-forgotten Smilash, she + had been astonished, and had not known what to do. So, to avoid doing + anything improper, she had stood stilly silent and done nothing, as the + custom of English ladies in such cases is. Subsequently, his unconscious + self-assertion had wrought with her as with the others, and her intention + of snubbing him had faded into the limbo of projects abandoned without + trial. Erskine alone was free from the influence of the intruder. He + wished himself elsewhere; but beside Gertrude the presence or absence of + any other person troubled him very little. + </p> + <p> + “How are the Janseniuses?” said Trefusis, suddenly turning to Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “They are quite well, thank you,” she said in measured tones. + </p> + <p> + “I met John Jansenius in the city lately. You know Jansenius?” he added + parenthetically to Sir Charles. “Cotman’s bank—the last Cotman died + out of the firm before we were born. The Chairman of the Transcanadian + Railway Company.” + </p> + <p> + “I know the name. I am seldom in the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” assented Trefusis; “for who would sadden himself by pushing + his way through a crowd of such slaves, if he could help it? I mean slaves + of Mammon, of course. To run the gauntlet of their faces in Cornhill is + enough to discourage a thoughtful man for hours. Well, Jansenius, being + high in the court of Mammon, is looking out for a good post in the + household for his son. Jansenius, by-the-bye is Miss Wylie’s guardian and + the father of my late wife.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha felt inclined to deny this; but, as it was true, she had to + forbear. Resolved to show that the relations between her family and + Trefusis were not cordial ones, she asked deliberately, “Did Mr. Jansenius + speak to you?” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude looked up, as if she thought this scarcely ladylike. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Trefusis. “We are the best friends in the world—as good + as possible, at any rate. He wanted me to subscribe to a fund for + relieving the poor at the east end of London by assisting them to + emigrate.” + </p> + <p> + “I presume you subscribed liberally,” said Erskine. “It was an opportunity + of doing some practical good.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not,” said Trefusis, grinning at the sarcasm. “This Transcanadian + Railway Company, having got a great deal of spare land from the Canadian + government for nothing, thought it would be a good idea to settle British + workmen on it and screw rent out of them. Plenty of British workmen, + supplanted in their employment by machinery, or cheap foreign labor, or + one thing or another, were quite willing to go; but as they couldn’t + afford to pay their passages to Canada, the Company appealed to the + benevolent to pay for them by subscription, as the change would improve + their miserable condition. I did not see why I should pay to provide a + rich company with tenant farmers, and I told Jansenius so. He remarked + that when money and not talk was required, the workmen of England soon + found out who were their real friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about these questions,” said Sir Charles, with an air of + conclusiveness; “but I see no objection to emigration.” “The fact is,” + said Trefusis, “the idea of emigration is a dangerous one for us. + Familiarize the workman with it, and some day he may come to see what a + capital thing it would be to pack off me, and you, with the peerage, and + the whole tribe of unprofitable proprietors such as we are, to St. Helena; + making us a handsome present of the island by way of indemnity! We are + such a restless, unhappy lot, that I doubt whether it would not prove a + good thing for us too. The workmen would lose nothing but the + contemplation of our elegant persons, exquisite manners, and refined + tastes. They might provide against that loss by picking out a few of us to + keep for ornament’s sake. No nation with a sense of beauty would banish + Lady Brandon, or Miss Lindsay, or Miss Wylie.” + </p> + <p> + “Such nonsense!” said Jane. + </p> + <p> + “You would hardly believe how much I have spent in sending workmen out of + the country against my own view of the country’s interest,” continued + Trefusis, addressing Erskine. “When I make a convert among the working + classes, the first thing he does is to make a speech somewhere declaring + his new convictions. His employer immediately discharges him—‘gives + him the sack’ is the technical phrase. The sack is the sword of the + capitalist, and hunger keeps it sharp for him. His shield is the law, made + for the purpose by his own class. Thus equipped, he gives the worst of it + to my poor convert, who comes ruined to me for assistance. As I cannot + afford to pension him for life, I get rid of him by assisting him to + emigrate. Sometimes he prospers and repays me; sometimes I hear no more of + him; sometimes he comes back with his habits unsettled. One man whom I + sent to America made his fortune, but he was not a social democrat; he was + a clerk who had embezzled, and who applied to me for assistance under the + impression that I considered it rather meritorious to rob the till of a + capitalist.” + </p> + <p> + “He was a practical Socialist, in fact,” said Erskine. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, he was a somewhat too grasping Individualist. Howbeit, I + enabled him to make good his defalcation—in the city they consider a + defalcation made good when the money is replaced—and to go to New + York. I recommended him not to go there; but he knew better than I, for he + made a fortune by speculating with money that existed only in the + imagination of those with whom he dealt. He never repaid me; he is + probably far too good a man of business to pay money that cannot be + extracted from him by an appeal to the law or to his commercial credit. + Mr. Erskine,” added Trefusis, lowering his voice, and turning to the poet, + “you are wrong to take part with hucksters and money-hunters against your + own nature, even though the attack upon them is led by a man who prefers + photography to etching.” + </p> + <p> + “But I assure you—You quite mistake me,” said Erskine, taken aback. + “I—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, looked to Sir Charles for support, and then said airily: “I + don’t doubt that you are quite right. I hate business and men of business; + and as to social questions, I have only one article of belief, which is, + that the sole refiner of human nature is fine art.” + </p> + <p> + “Whereas I believe that the sole refiner of art is human nature. Art rises + when men rise, and grovels when men grovel. What is your opinion?” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you in many ways,” replied Sir Charles nervously; for a lack + of interest in his fellow-creatures, and an excess of interest in himself, + had prevented him from obtaining that power of dealing with social + questions which, he felt, a baronet ought to possess, and he was + consequently afraid to differ from anyone who alluded to them with + confidence. “If you take an interest in art, I believe I can show you a + few things worth seeing.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. In return I will some day show you a remarkable collection of + photographs I possess; many of them taken by me. I venture to think they + will teach you something.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” said Sir Charles. “Shall we return to the gallery? I have a + few treasures there that photography is not likely to surpass for some + time yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s go through the conservatory,” said Jane. “Don’t you like flowers, + Mr. Smi—I never can remember your proper name.” + </p> + <p> + “Extremely,” said Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + They rose and went out into a long hothouse. Here Lady Brandon, finding + Erskine at her side, and Sir Charles before her with Gertrude, looked + round for Trefusis, with whom she intended to enjoy a trifling flirtation + under cover of showing him the flowers. He was out of sight; but she heard + his footsteps in the passage on the opposite side of the greenhouse. + Agatha was also invisible. Jane, not daring to rearrange their procession + lest her design should become obvious, had to walk on with Erskine. + </p> + <p> + Agatha had turned unintentionally into the opposite alley to that which + the others had chosen. When she saw what she had done, and found herself + virtually alone with Trefusis, who had followed her, she blamed him for + it, and was about to retrace her steps when he said coolly: + </p> + <p> + “Were you shocked when you heard of Henrietta’s sudden death?” + </p> + <p> + Agatha struggled with herself for a moment, and then said in a suppressed + voice: “How dare you speak to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” said he, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “I am not going to enter into a discussion with you. You know what I mean + very well.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you are offended with me; that is plain enough. But when I + part with a young lady on good terms, and after a lapse of years, during + which we neither meet nor correspond, she asks me how I dare speak to her, + I am naturally startled.” + </p> + <p> + “We did not part on good terms.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis stretched his eyebrows, as if to stretch his memory. “If not,” he + said, “I have forgotten it, on my honor. When did we part, and what + happened? It cannot have been anything very serious, or I should remember + it.” + </p> + <p> + His forgetfulness wounded Agatha. “No doubt you are well accustomed to—” + She checked herself, and made a successful snatch at her normal manner + with gentlemen. “I scarcely remember what it was, now that I begin to + think. Some trifle, I suppose. Do you like orchids?” + </p> + <p> + “They have nothing to do with our affairs at present. You are not in + earnest about the orchids, and you are trying to run away from a mistake + instead of clearing it up. That is a short-sighted policy, always.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha grew alarmed, for she felt his old influence over her returning. “I + do not wish to speak of it,” she said firmly. + </p> + <p> + Her firmness was lost on him. “I do not even know what it means yet,” he + said, “and I want to know, for I believe there is some misunderstanding + between us, and it is the trick of your sex to perpetuate + misunderstandings by forbidding all allusions to them. Perhaps, leaving + Lyvern so hastily, I forgot to fulfil some promise, or to say farewell, or + something of that sort. But do you know how suddenly I was called away? I + got a telegram to say that Henrietta was dying, and I had only time to + change my clothes—you remember my disguise—and catch the + express. And, after all, she was dead when I arrived.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” said Agatha uneasily. “Please say no more about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if it distresses you. Just let me hope that you did not suppose I + blamed you for your share in the matter or that I told the Janseniuses of + it. I did not. Yes, I like orchids. A plant that can subsist on a scrap of + board is an instance of natural econ—” + </p> + <p> + “YOU blame ME!” cried Agatha. “<i>I</i> never told the Janseniuses. What + would they have thought of you if I had?” + </p> + <p> + “Far worse of you than of me, however unjustly. You were the immediate + cause of the tragedy; I only the remote one. Jansenius is not far-seeing + when his feelings are touched. Few men are.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand you in the least. What tragedy do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Henrietta’s death. I call it a tragedy conventionally. Seriously, of + course, it was commonplace enough.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha stopped and faced him. “What do you mean by what you said just now? + You said that I was the immediate cause of the tragedy, and you say that + you were talking of Henrietta’s—of Henrietta. I had nothing to do + with her illness.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis looked at her as if considering whether he would go any further. + Then, watching her with the curiosity of a vivisector, he said: “Strange + to say, Agatha,” (she shrank proudly at the word), “Henrietta might have + been alive now but for you. I am very glad she is not; so you need not + reproach yourself on my account. She died of a journey she made to Lyvern + in great excitement and distress, and in intensely cold weather. You + caused her to make that journey by writing her a letter which made her + jealous.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to accuse me—” + </p> + <p> + “No; stop!” he said hastily, the vivisecting spirit in him exorcised by + her shaking voice; “I accuse you of nothing. Why do you not speak honestly + to me when you are at your ease? If you confess your real thoughts only + under torture, who can resist the temptation to torture you? One must + charge you with homicide to make you speak of anything but orchids.” + </p> + <p> + But Agatha had drawn the new inference from the old facts, and would not + be talked out of repudiating it. “It was not my fault,” she said. “It was + yours—altogether yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Altogether,” he assented, relieved to find her indignant instead of + remorseful. + </p> + <p> + She was not to be soothed by a verbal acquiescence. “Your behavior was + most unmanly, and I told you so, and you could not deny it. You pretended + that you—You pretended to have feelings—You tried to make me + believe that Oh, I am a fool to talk to you; you know perfectly well what + I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly. I tried to make you believe that I was in love with you. How + do you know I was not?” + </p> + <p> + She disdained to answer; but as he waited calmly she said, “You had no + right to be.” + </p> + <p> + “That does not prove that I was not. Come, Agatha, you pretended to like + me when you did not care two straws about me. You confessed as much in + that fatal letter, which I have somewhere at home. It has a great rent + right across it, and the mark of her heel; she must have stamped on it in + her rage, poor girl! So that I can show your own hand for the very + deception you accused me—without proof—of having practiced on + you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are clever, and can twist things. What pleasure does it give you to + make me miserable?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” he exclaimed, in an abrupt, sardonic laugh. “I don’t know; you + bewitch me, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha made no reply, but walked on quickly to the end of the + conservatory, where the others were waiting for them. + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been, and what have you been doing all this time?” said + Jane, as Trefusis came up, hurrying after Agatha. “I don’t know what you + call it, but I call it perfectly disgraceful!” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles reddened at his wife’s bad taste, and Trefusis replied + gravely: “We have been admiring the orchids, and talking about them. Miss + Wylie takes an interest in them.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + One morning Gertrude got a letter from her father: + </h3> + <p> + “My Dear Gerty: I have just received a bill for L110 from Madame Smith for + your dresses. May I ask you how long this sort of thing is to go on? I + need not tell you that I have not the means to support you in such + extravagance. I am, as you know, always anxious that you should go about + in a style worthy of your position, but unless you can manage without + calling on me to pay away hundreds of pounds every season to Madame Smith, + you had better give up society and stay at home. I positively cannot + afford it. As far as I can see, going into society has not done you much + good. I had to raise L500 last month on Franklands; and it is too bad if I + must raise more to pay your dressmaker. You might at least employ some + civil person, or one whose charges are moderate. Madame Smith tells me + that she will not wait any longer, and charges L50 for a single dress. I + hope you fully understand that there must be an end to this. + </p> + <p> + “I hear from your mother that young Erskine is with you at Brandon’s. I do + not think much of him. He is not well off, nor likely to get on, as he has + taken to poetry and so forth. I am told also that a man named Trefusis + visits at the Beeches a good deal now. He must be a fool, for he contested + the last Birmingham election, and came out at the foot of the poll with + thirty-two votes through calling himself a Social Democrat or some such + foreign rubbish, instead of saying out like a man that he was a Radical. I + suppose the name stuck in his throat, for his mother was one of the + Howards of Breconcastle; so he has good blood in him, though his father + was nobody. I wish he had your bills to pay; he could buy and sell me ten + times over, after all my twenty-five years’ service. + </p> + <p> + “As I am thinking of getting something done to the house, I had rather you + did not come back this month, if you can possibly hold on at Brandon’s. + Remember me to him, and give our kind regards to his wife. I should be + obliged if you would gather some hemlock leaves and send them to me. I + want them for my ointment; the stuff the chemists sell is no good. Your + mother’s eyes are bad again; and your brother Berkeley has been gambling, + and seems to think I ought to pay his debts for him. I am greatly worried + over it all, and I hope that, until you have settled yourself, you will be + more reasonable, and not run these everlasting bills upon me. You are + enjoying yourself out of reach of all the unpleasantness; but it bears + hardly upon + </p> + <p> + “Your affectionate father, + </p> + <p> + “C.B. LINDSAY.” + </p> + <p> + A faint sketch of the lines Time intended to engrave on Gertrude’s brow + appeared there as she read the letter; but she hastened to give the + admiral’s kind regards to her host and hostess, and discussed her mother’s + health feelingly with them. After breakfast she went to the library, and + wrote her reply: + </p> + <p> + “BRANDON BEECHES, + </p> + <p> + “Tuesday. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Papa: Considering that it is more than three years since you paid + Madame Smith last, and that then her bill, which included my court dress, + was only L150, I cannot see how I could possibly have been more + economical, unless you expect me to go in rags. I am sorry that Madame + Smith has asked for the money at such an inconvenient time, but when I + begged you to pay her something in March last year you told me to keep her + quiet by giving her a good order. I am not surprised at her not being very + civil, as she has plenty of tradesmen’s daughters among her customers who + pay her more than L300 a year for their dresses. I am wearing a skirt at + present which I got two years ago. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Charles is going to town on Thursday; he will bring you the hemlock. + Tell mamma that there is an old woman here who knows some wonderful cure + for sore eyes. She will not tell what the ingredients are, but it cures + everyone, and there is no use in giving an oculist two guineas for telling + us that reading in bed is bad for the eyes, when we know perfectly well + that mamma will not give up doing it. If you pay Berkeley’s debts, do not + forget that he owes me L3. + </p> + <p> + “Another schoolfellow of mine is staying here now, and I think that Mr. + Trefusis will have the pleasure of paying her bills some day. He is a + great pet of Lady Brandon’s. Sir Charles was angry at first because she + invited him here, and we were all surprised at it. The man has a bad + reputation, and headed a mob that threw down the walls of the park; and we + hardly thought he would be cool enough to come after that. But he does not + seem to care whether we want him or not; and he comes when he likes. As he + talks cleverly, we find him a godsend in this dull place. It is really not + such a paradise as you seem to think, but you need not be afraid of my + returning any sooner than I can help. + </p> + <p> + “Your affectionate daughter, + </p> + <p> + “Gertrude Lindsay.” + </p> + <p> + When Gertrude had closed this letter, and torn up her father’s, she + thought little more about either. They might have made her unhappy had + they found her happy, but as hopeless discontent was her normal state, and + enjoyment but a rare accident, recriminatory passages with her father only + put her into a bad humor, and did not in the least disappoint or humiliate + her. + </p> + <p> + For the sake of exercise, she resolved to carry her letter to the village + post office and return along the Riverside Road, whereby she had seen + hemlock growing. She took care to go out unobserved, lest Agatha should + volunteer to walk with her, or Jane declare her intention of driving to + the post office in the afternoon, and sulk for the rest of the day unless + the trip to the village were postponed until then. She took with her, as a + protection against tramps, a big St. Bernard dog named Max. This animal, + which was young and enthusiastic, had taken a strong fancy to her, and had + expressed it frankly and boisterously; and she, whose affections had been + starved in her home and in society, had encouraged him with more kindness + than she had ever shown to any human being. + </p> + <p> + In the village, having posted her letter, she turned towards a lane that + led to the Riverside Road. Max, unaware of her reason for choosing the + longest way home, remonstrated by halting in the middle of the lane, + wagging his tail rapidly, and uttering gruff barks. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be stupid, sir,” said Gertrude impatiently. “I am going this way.” + </p> + <p> + Max, apparently understanding, rushed after her, passed her, and + disappeared in a cloud of dust raised by his effort to check himself when + he had left her far enough behind. When he came back she kissed his nose, + and ran a race with him until she too was panting, and had to stand still + to recover her breath, whilst he bounded about, barking ferociously. She + had not for many years enjoyed such a frolic, and the thought of this + presently brought tears to her eyes. Rather peevishly she bade Max be + quiet, walked slowly to cool herself, and put up her sunshade to avert + freckles. + </p> + <p> + The sun was now at the meridian. On a slope to Gertrude’s right hand, + Sallust’s House, with its cinnamon-colored walls and yellow frieze, gave a + foreign air to the otherwise very English landscape. She passed by without + remembering who lived there. Further down, on some waste land separated + from the road by a dry ditch and a low mud wall, a cluster of hemlocks, + nearly six feet high, poisoned the air with their odor. She crossed the + ditch, took a pair of gardening gloves from her plaited straw hand-basket, + and busied herself with the hemlock leaves, pulling the tender ones, + separating them from the stalk, and filling the basket with the web. She + forgot Max until an impression of dead silence, as if the earth had + stopped, caused her to look round in vague dread. Trefusis, with his hand + abandoned to the dog, who was trying how much of it he could cram into his + mouth, was standing within a few yards of her, watching her intently. + Gertrude turned pale, and came out hastily from among the bushes. Then she + had a strange sensation as if something had happened high above her head. + There was a threatening growl, a commanding exclamation, and an + unaccountable pause, at the expiration of which she found herself supine + on the sward, with her parasol between her eyes and the sun. A sudden + scoop of Max’s wet warm tongue in her right ear startled her into + activity. She sat up, and saw Trefusis on his knees at her side holding + the parasol with an unconcerned expression, whilst Max was snuffing at her + in restless anxiety opposite. + </p> + <p> + “I must go home,” she said. “I must go home instantly.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Trefusis, soothingly. “They have just sent word to say + that everything is settled satisfactorily and that you need not come.” + </p> + <p> + “Have they?” she said faintly. Then she lay down again, and it seemed to + her that a very long time elapsed. Suddenly recollecting that Trefusis had + supported her gently with his hand to prevent her falling back too rudely, + she rose again, and this time got upon her feet with his help. + </p> + <p> + “I must go home,” she said again. “It is a matter of life or death.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he said softly. “It is all right. You may depend on me.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him earnestly. He had taken her hand to steady her, for she + was swaying a little. “Are you sure,” she said, grasping his arm. “Are you + quite sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely certain. You know I am always right, do you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, oh, yes; you have always been true to me. You—” Here her + senses came back with a rush. Dropping his hand as if it had become red + hot, she said sharply, “What are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” he said, resuming his indifferent manner with a laugh. + “Are you better? Let me drive you to the Beeches. My stable is within a + stone’s throw; I can get a trap out in ten minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” said Gertrude haughtily. “I do not wish to drive.” She + paused, and added in some bewilderment, “What has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “You fainted, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I did not faint,” said Gertrude indignantly. “I never fainted in my + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Mr. Trefusis. I did not.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall judge for yourself. I was coming through this field when I saw + you gathering hemlock. Hemlock is interesting on account of Socrates, and + you were interesting as a young lady gathering poison. So I stopped to + look on. Presently you came out from among the bushes as if you had seen a + snake there. Then you fell into my arms—which led me to suppose that + you had fainted—and Max, concluding that it was all my fault, nearly + sprang at my throat. You were overpowered by the scent of the + water-hemlock, which you must have been inhaling for ten minutes or more.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not know that there was any danger,” said Gertrude, crestfallen. “I + felt very tired when I came to. That was why I lay so long the second + time. I really could not help it.” + </p> + <p> + “You did not lie very long.” + </p> + <p> + “Not when I first fell; that was only a few seconds, I know. But I must + have lain there nearly ten minutes after I recovered.” + </p> + <p> + “You were nearly a minute insensible when you first fell, and when you + recovered you only rested for about one second. After that you raved, and + I invented suitable answers until you suddenly asked me what I was talking + about.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude reddened a little as the possibility of her having raved + indiscreetly occurred to her. “It was very silly of me to faint,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “You could not help it; you are only human. I shall walk with you to the + Beeches.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; I will not trouble you,” she said quickly. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “I do not know how long the effect of that abominable + water-weed may last,” he said, “and I dare not leave you to walk alone. If + you prefer it I can send you in a trap with my gardener, but I had rather + accompany you myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You are giving yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble. I will walk. + I am quite well again and need no assistance.” + </p> + <p> + They started without another word. Gertrude had to concentrate all her + energy to conceal from him that she was giddy. Numbness and lassitude + crept upon her, and she was beginning to hope that she was only dreaming + it all when he roused her by saying, + </p> + <p> + “Take my arm.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be so senselessly obstinate. You will have to lean on the hedge + for support if you refuse my help. I am sorry I did not insist on getting + the trap.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude had not been spoken to in this tone since her childhood. “I am + perfectly well,” she said sharply. “You are really very officious.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not perfectly well, and you know it. However, if you make a brave + struggle, you will probably be able to walk home without my assistance, + and the effort may do you good.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very rude,” she said peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” he replied calmly. “You will find three classes of men polite + to you—slaves, men who think much of their manners and nothing of + you, and your lovers. I am none of these, and therefore give you back your + ill manners with interest. Why do you resist your good angel by + suppressing those natural and sincere impulses which come to you often + enough, and sometimes bring a look into your face that might tame a bear—a + look which you hasten to extinguish as a thief darkens his lantern at the + sound of a footstep.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Trefusis, I am not accustomed to be lectured.” + </p> + <p> + “That is why I lecture you. I felt curious to see how your good breeding, + by which I think you set some store, would serve you in entirely novel + circumstances—those of a man speaking his mind to you, for instance. + What is the result of my experiment? Instead of rebuking me with the + sweetness and dignity which I could not, in spite of my past observation, + help expecting from you, you churlishly repel my offer of the assistance + you need, tell me that I am very rude, very officious, and, in short, do + what you can to make my position disagreeable and humiliating.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him haughtily, but his expression was void of offence or + fear, and he continued, unanswered. + </p> + <p> + “I would bear all this from a working woman without remonstrance, for she + would owe me no graces of manner or morals. But you are a lady. That means + that many have starved and drudged in uncleanly discomfort in order that + you may have white and unbroken hands, fine garments, and exquisite + manners—that you may be a living fountain of those influences that + soften our natures and lives. When such a costly thing as a lady breaks + down at the first touch of a firm hand, I feel justified in complaining.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude walked on quickly, and said between her teeth, “I don’t want to + hear any of your absurd views, Mr. Trefusis.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “My unfortunate views!” he said. “Whenever I make an + inconvenient remark it is always set aside as an expression of certain + dangerous crazes with which I am supposed to be afflicted. When I point + out to Sir Charles that one of his favorite artists has not accurately + observed something before attempting to draw it, he replies, ‘You know our + views differ on these things, Trefusis.’ When I told Miss Wylie’s guardian + that his emigration scheme was little better than a fraud, he said, ‘You + must excuse me, but I cannot enter into your peculiar views.’ One of my + views at present is that Miss Lindsay is more amiable under the influence + of hemlock than under that of the social system which has made her so + unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” exclaimed Gertrude, outraged. Then, after a pause, “I was under + the impression that I had accepted the escort of a gentleman.” Then, after + another pause, Trefusis being quite undisturbed, “How do you know that I + am unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + “By a certain defect in your countenance, which lacks the crowning beauty + of happiness; and a certain defect in your voice which will never + disappear until you learn to love or pity those to whom you speak.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong,” said Gertrude, with calm disdain. “You do not understand + me in the least. I am particularly attached to my friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have never seen you in their company.” + </p> + <p> + “You are still wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how can you speak as you do, look as you do, act as you do?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? HOW do I look and act?” + </p> + <p> + “Like one of the railings of Belgrave Square, cursed with consciousness of + itself, fears of the judgment of the other railings, and doubts of their + fitness to stand in the same row with it. You are cold, mistrustful, cruel + to nervous or clumsy people, and more afraid of the criticisms of those + with whom you dance and dine than of your conscience. All of which + prevents you from looking like an angel.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Do you consider paying compliments the perfection of + gentlemanly behavior?” + </p> + <p> + “Have I been paying you many? That last remark of mine was not meant as + one. On my honor, the angels will not disappoint me if they are no + lovelier than you should be if you had that look in your face and that + tone in your voice I spoke of just now. It can hardly displease you to + hear that. If I were particularly handsome myself, I should like to be + told so.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry I cannot tell you so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Ha! ha! What a retort, Miss Lindsay! You are not sorry either; you + are rather glad.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude knew it, and was angry with herself, not because her retort was + false, but because she thought it unladylike. “You have no right to annoy + me,” she exclaimed, in spite of herself. + </p> + <p> + “None whatever,” he said, humbly. “If I have done so, forgive me before we + part. I will go no further with you; Max will give the alarm if you faint + in the avenue, which I don’t think you are likely to do, as you have + forgotten all about the hemlock.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how maddening!” she cried. “I have left my basket behind.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind; I will find it and have it filled and sent to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I am sorry to trouble you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. I hope you do not want the hemlock to help you to get rid of + the burden of life.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense. I want it for my father, who uses it for medicine.” + </p> + <p> + “I will bring it myself to-morrow. Is that soon enough?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite. I am in no hurry. Thank you, Mr. Trefusis. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + She gave him her hand, and even smiled a little, and then hurried away. He + stood watching her as she passed along the avenue under the beeches. Once, + when she came into a band of sunlight at a gap in the trees, she made so + pretty a figure in her spring dress of violet and white that his eyes + kindled as he gazed. He took out his note-book, and entered her name and + the date, with a brief memorandum. + </p> + <p> + “I have thawed her,” he said to himself as he put up his book. “She shall + learn a lesson or two to hand on to her children before I have done with + her. A trifle underbred, too, or she would not insist so much on her + breeding. Henrietta used to wear a dress like that. I am glad to see that + there is no danger of her taking to me personally.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away, and saw a crone passing, bending beneath a bundle of + sticks. He eyed it curiously; and she scowled at him and hurried on. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She continued for a few steps, but her courage failed her and she stopped. + </p> + <p> + “You are Mrs. Hickling, I think?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, please your worship.” + </p> + <p> + “You are the woman who carried away an old wooden gate that lay on Sir + Charles Brandon’s land last winter and used it for firewood. You were + imprisoned for seven days for it.” + </p> + <p> + “You may send me there again if you like,” she retorted, in a cracked + voice, as she turned at bay. “But the Lord will make me even with you some + day. Cursed be them that oppress the poor and needy; it is one of the + seven deadly sins.” + </p> + <p> + “Those green laths on your back are the remainder of my garden gate,” he + said. “You took the first half last Saturday. Next time you want fuel come + to the house and ask for coals, and let my gates alone. I suppose you can + enjoy a fire without stealing the combustibles. Stow pay me for my gate by + telling me something I want to know.” + </p> + <p> + “And a kind gentleman too, sir; blessings.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the hemlock good for?” + </p> + <p> + “The hemlock, kind gentleman? For the evil, sir, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Scrofulous ulcers!” he exclaimed, recoiling. “The father of that + beautiful girl!” He turned homeward, and trudged along with his head bent, + muttering, “All rotten to the bone. Oh, civilization! civilization! + civilization!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + “What has come over Gertrude?” said Agatha one day to Lady Brandon. + </p> + <p> + “Why? Is anything the matter with her?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know; she has not been the same since she poisoned herself. And + why did she not tell about it? But for Trefusis we should never have + known.” + </p> + <p> + “Gertrude always made secrets of things.” + </p> + <p> + “She was in a vile temper for two days after; and now she is quite + changed. She falls into long reveries, and does not hear a word of what is + going on around. Then she starts into life again, and begs your pardon + with the greatest sweetness for not catching what you have said.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate her when she is polite; it is not natural to her. As to her going + to sleep, that is the effect of the hemlock. We know a man who took a + spoonful of strychnine in a bath, and he never was the same afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “I think she is making up her mind to encourage Erskine,” said Agatha. + “When I came here he hardly dared speak to her—at least, she always + snubbed him. Now she lets him talk as much as he likes, and actually sends + him on messages and allows him to carry things for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I never saw anybody like Gertrude in my life. In London, if men were + attentive to her, she sat on them for being officious; and if they let her + alone she was angry at being neglected. Erskine is quite good enough for + her, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Here Erskine appeared at the door and looked round the room. + </p> + <p> + “She’s not here,” said Jane. + </p> + <p> + “I am seeking Sir Charles,” he said, withdrawing somewhat stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “What a lie!” said Jane, discomfited by his reception of her jest. “He was + talking to Sir Charles ten minutes ago in the billiard room. Men are such + conceited fools!” + </p> + <p> + Agatha had strolled to the window, and was looking discontentedly at the + prospect, as she had often done at school when alone, and sometimes did + now in society. The door opened again, and Sir Charles appeared. He, too, + looked round, but when his roving glance reached Agatha, it cast anchor; + and he came in. + </p> + <p> + “Are you busy just now, Miss Wylie?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Jane hastily. “She is going to write a letter for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, Jane,” he said, “I think you are old enough to write your letters + without troubling Miss Wylie.” + </p> + <p> + “When I do write my own letters you always find fault with them,” she + retorted. + </p> + <p> + “I thought perhaps you might have leisure to try over a duet with me,” he + said, turning to Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” she replied, hoping to smooth matters by humoring him. “The + letter will do any time before post hour.” + </p> + <p> + Jane reddened, and said shortly, “I will write it myself, if you will + not.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles quite lost his temper. “How can you be so damnably rude?” he + said, turning upon his wife. “What objection have you to my singing duets + with Miss Wylie?” + </p> + <p> + “Nice language that!” said Jane. “I never said I objected; and you have no + right to drag her away to the piano just when she is going to write a + letter for me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish Miss Wylie to do anything except what pleases her best. It + seems to me that writing letters to your tradespeople cannot be a very + pleasant occupation.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray don’t mind me,” said Agatha. “It is not the least trouble to me. I + used to write all Jane’s letters for her at school. Suppose I write the + letter first, and then we can have the duet. You will not mind waiting + five minutes?” + </p> + <p> + “I can wait as long as you please, of course. But it seems such an absurd + abuse of your good nature that I cannot help protest!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let it wait!” exclaimed Jane. “Such a ridiculous fuss to make about + asking Agatha to write a letter, just because you happen to want her to + play you your duets! I am certain she is heartily sick and tired of them.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha, to escape the altercation, went to the library and wrote the + letter. When she returned to the drawing-room, she found no one there; but + Sir Charles came in presently. + </p> + <p> + “I am so sorry, Miss Wylie,” he said, as he opened the piano for her, + “that you should be incommoded because my wife is silly enough to be + jealous.” + </p> + <p> + “Jealous!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Idiocy!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are mistaken,” said Agatha, incredulously. “How could she + possibly be jealous of me?” + </p> + <p> + “She is jealous of everybody and everything,” he replied bitterly, “and + she cares for nobody and for nothing. You do not know what I have to + endure sometimes from her.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha thought her most discreet course was to sit down immediately and + begin “I would that my love.” Whilst she played and sang, she thought over + what Sir Charles had just let slip. She had found him a pleasant + companion, light-hearted, fond of music and fun, polite and considerate, + appreciative of her talents, quick-witted without being oppressively + clever, and, as a married man, disinterested in his attentions. But it now + occurred to her that perhaps they had been a good deal together of late. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles had by this time wandered from his part into hers; and he now + recalled her to the music by stopping to ask whether he was right. Knowing + by experience what his difficulty was likely to be, she gave him his note + and went on. They had not been singing long when Jane came back and sat + down, expressing a hope that her presence would not disturb them. It did + disturb them. Agatha suspected that she had come there to watch them, and + Sir Charles knew it. Besides, Lady Brandon, even when her mind was + tranquil, was habitually restless. She could not speak because of the + music, and, though she held an open book in her hand, she could not read + and watch simultaneously. She gaped, and leaned to one end of the sofa + until, on the point of overbalancing’ she recovered herself with a + prodigious bounce. The floor vibrated at her every movement. At last she + could keep silence no longer. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” she said, yawning audibly. “It must be five o’clock at the + very earliest.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha turned round upon the piano-stool, feeling that music and Lady + Brandon were incompatible. Sir Charles, for his guest’s sake, tried hard + to restrain his exasperation. + </p> + <p> + “Probably your watch will tell you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for nothing,” said Jane. “Agatha, where is Gertrude?” + </p> + <p> + “How can Miss Wylie possibly tell you where she is, Jane? I think you have + gone mad to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “She is most likely playing billiards with Mr. Erskine,” said Agatha, + interposing quickly to forestall a retort from Jane, with its usual sequel + of a domestic squabble. + </p> + <p> + “I think it is very strange of Gertrude to pass the whole day with Chester + in the billiard room,” said Jane discontentedly. + </p> + <p> + “There is not the slightest impropriety in her doing so,” said Sir + Charles. “If our hospitality does not place Miss Lindsay above suspicion, + the more shame for us. How would you feel if anyone else made such a + remark?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stuff!” said Jane peevishly. “You are always preaching long + rigmaroles about nothing at all. I did not say there was any impropriety + about Gertrude. She is too proper to be pleasant, in my opinion.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles, unable to trust himself further, frowned and left the room, + Jane speeding him with a contemptuous laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t ever be such a fool as to get married,” she said, when he was gone. + She looked up as she spoke, and was alarmed to see Agatha seated on the + pianoforte, with her ankles swinging in the old school fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Jane,” she said, surveying her hostess coolly, “do you know what I would + do if I were Sir Charles?” + </p> + <p> + Jane did not know. + </p> + <p> + “I would get a big stick, beat you black and blue, and then lock you up on + bread and water for a week.” + </p> + <p> + Jane half rose, red and angry. “Wh—why?” she said, relapsing upon + the sofa. + </p> + <p> + “If I were a man, I would not, for mere chivalry’s sake, let a woman treat + me like a troublesome dog. You want a sound thrashing.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to see anybody thrash me,” said Jane, rising again and + displaying her formidable person erect. Then she burst into tears, and + said, “I won’t have such things said to me in my own house. How dare you?” + </p> + <p> + “You deserve it for being jealous of me,” said Agatha. + </p> + <p> + Jane’s eyes dilated angrily. “I!—I!—jealous of you!” She + looked round, as if for a missile. Not finding one, she sat down again, + and said in a voice stifled with tears, “J—Jealous of YOU, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “You have good reason to be, for he is fonder of me than of you.” + </p> + <p> + Jane opened her mouth and eyes convulsively, but only uttered a gasp, and + Agatha proceeded calmly, “I am polite to him, which you never are. When he + speaks to me I allow him to finish his sentence without expressing, as you + do, a foregone conclusion that it is not worth attending to. I do not yawn + and talk whilst he is singing. When he converses with me on art or + literature, about which he knows twice as much as I do, and at least ten + times as much as you.” (Jane gasped again) “I do not make a silly answer + and turn to my neighbor at the other side with a remark about the tables + or the weather. When he is willing to be pleased, as he always is, I am + willing to be pleasant. And that is why he likes me.” + </p> + <p> + “He does NOT like you. He is the same to everyone.” + </p> + <p> + “Except his wife. He likes me so much that you, like a great goose as you + are, came up here to watch us at our duets, and made yourself as + disagreeable as you possibly could whilst I was making myself charming. + The poor man was ashamed of you.” + </p> + <p> + “He wasn’t,” said Jane, sobbing. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t say + anything. I won’t bear it. I will get a divorce. I will—” + </p> + <p> + “You will mend your ways if you have any sense left,” said Agatha + remorselessly. “Do not make such a noise, or someone will come to see what + is the matter, and I shall have to get down from the piano, where I am + very comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “It is you who are jealous.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is it, Jane? I have not allowed Sir Charles to fall in love with me + yet, but I can do so very easily. What will you wager that he will not + kiss me before to-morrow evening?” + </p> + <p> + “It will be very mean and nasty of you if he does. You seem to think that + I can be treated like a child.” + </p> + <p> + “So you are a child,” said Agatha, descending from her perch and preparing + to go. “An occasional slapping does you good.” + </p> + <p> + “It is nothing to you whether I agree with my husband or not,” said Jane + with sudden fierceness. + </p> + <p> + “Not if you quarrel with him in private, as wellbred couples do. But when + it occurs in my presence it makes me uncomfortable, and I object to being + made uncomfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “You would not be here at all if I had not asked you.” + </p> + <p> + “Just think how dull the house would be without me, Jane!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! It was not dull before you came. Gertrude always behaved like a + lady, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry that her example was so utterly lost on you.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t bear it,” said Jane with a sob and a plunge upon the sofa that + made the lustres of the chandeliers rattle. “I wouldn’t have asked you if + I had thought you could be so hateful. I will never ask you again.” + </p> + <p> + “I will make Sir Charles divorce you for incompatibility of temper and + marry me. Then I shall have the place to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “He can’t divorce me for that, thank goodness. You don’t know what you’re + talking about.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha laughed. “Come,” she said good-humoredly, “don’t be an old ass, + Jane. Wash your face before anyone sees it, and remember what I have told + you about Sir Charles.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very hard to be called an ass in one’s own house.” + </p> + <p> + “It is harder to be treated as one, like your husband. I am going to look + for him in the billiard room.” + </p> + <p> + Jane ran after her, and caught her by the sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” she pleaded, “promise me that you won’t be mean. Say that you + won’t make love to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will consider about it,” replied Agatha gravely. + </p> + <p> + Jane uttered a groan and sank into a chair, which creaked at the shock. + Agatha turned on the threshold, and seeing her shaking her head, pressing + her eyes, and tapping with her heel in a restrained frenzy, said quickly, + </p> + <p> + “Here are the Waltons, and the Fitzgeorges, and Mr. Trefusis coming + upstairs. How do you do, Mrs. Walton? Lady Brandon will be SO glad to see + you. Good-evening, Mr. Fitzgeorge.” + </p> + <p> + Jane sprang up, wiped her eyes, and, with her hands on her hair, smoothing + it, rushed to a mirror. No visitors appearing, she perceived that she was, + for perhaps the hundredth time in her life, the victim of an imposture + devised by Agatha. She, gratified by the success of her attempt to regain + her old ascendancy over Jane—she had made it with misgiving, + notwithstanding her apparent confidence—went downstairs to the + library, where she found Sir Charles gloomily trying to drown his domestic + troubles in art criticism. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were in the billiard room,” said Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “I only peeped in,” he replied; “but as I saw something particular going + on, I thought it best to slip away, and I have been alone ever since.” + </p> + <p> + The something particular which Sir Charles had not wished to interrupt was + only a game of billiards. + </p> + <p> + It was the first opportunity Erskine had ever enjoyed of speaking to + Gertrude at leisure and alone. Yet their conversation had never been so + commonplace. She, liking the game, played very well and chatted + indifferently; he played badly, and broached trivial topics in spite of + himself. After an hour-and-a-half’s play, Gertrude had announced that this + game must be their last. He thought desperately that if he were to miss + many more strokes the game must presently end, and an opportunity which + might never recur pass beyond recall. He determined to tell her without + preface that he adored her, but when he opened his lips a question came + forth of its own accord relating to the Persian way of playing billiards. + Gertrude had never been in Persia, but had seen some Eastern billiard cues + in the India museum. Were not the Hindoos wonderful people for filigree + work, and carpets, and such things? Did he not think the crookedness of + their carpet patterns a blemish? Some people pretended to admire them, but + was not that all nonsense? Was not the modern polished floor, with a rug + in the middle, much superior to the old carpet fitted into the corners of + the room? Yes. Enormously superior. Immensely— + </p> + <p> + “Why, what are you thinking of to-day, Mr. Erskine? You have played with + my ball.” + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking of you.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” said Gertrude, not catching the serious turn he had + given to the conversation, and poising her cue for a stroke. “Oh! I am as + bad as you; that was the worst stroke I ever made, I think. I beg your + pardon; you said something just now.” + </p> + <p> + “I forget. Nothing of any consequence.” And he groaned at his own + cowardice. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we stop,” she said. “There is no use in finishing the game if our + hands are out. I am rather tired of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly—if you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will finish if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. What pleases you, pleases me.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude made him a little bow, and idly knocked the balls about with her + cue. Erskine’s eyes wandered, and his lip moved irresolutely. He had + settled with himself that his declaration should be a frank one—heart + to heart. He had pictured himself in the act of taking her hand + delicately, and saying, “Gertrude, I love you. May I tell you so again?” + But this scheme did not now seem practicable. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lindsay.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude, bending over the table, looked up in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “The present is as good an opportunity as I will—as I shall—as + I will.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall,” said Gertrude. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon?” + </p> + <p> + “SHALL,” repeated Gertrude. “Did you ever study the doctrine of + necessity?” + </p> + <p> + “The doctrine of necessity?” he said, bewildered. + </p> + <p> + Gertrude went to the other side of the table in pursuit of a ball. She now + guessed what was coming, and was willing that it should come; not because + she intended to accept, but because, like other young ladies experienced + in such scenes, she counted the proposals of marriage she received as a + Red Indian counts the scalps he takes. + </p> + <p> + “We have had a very pleasant time of it here,” he said, giving up as + inexplicable the relevance of the doctrine of necessity. “At least, I + have.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Gertrude, quick to resent a fancied allusion to her private + discontent, “so have I.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of that—more so than I can convey by words.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it any business of yours?” she said, following the disagreeable vein + he had unconsciously struck upon, and suspecting pity in his efforts to be + sympathetic. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I dared hope so. The happiness of my visit has been due to you + entirely.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said Gertrude, wincing as all the hard things Trefusis had told + her of herself came into her mind at the heels of Erskine’s unfortunate + allusion to her power of enjoying herself. + </p> + <p> + “I hope I am not paining you,” he said earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said, standing erect with + sudden impatience. “You seem to think that it is very easy to pain me.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said timidly, puzzled by the effect he had produced. “I fear you + misunderstand me. I am very awkward. Perhaps I had better say no more.” + Gertrude, by turning away to put up her cue, signified that that was a + point for him to consider; she not intending to trouble herself about it. + When she faced him again, he was motionless and dejected, with a wistful + expression like that of a dog that has proffered a caress and received a + kick. Remorse, and a vague sense that there was something base in her + attitude towards him, overcame her. She looked at him for an instant and + left the room. + </p> + <p> + The look excited him. He did not understand it, nor attempt to understand + it; but it was a look that he had never before seen in her face or in that + of any other woman. It struck him as a momentary revelation of what he had + written of in “The Patriot Martyrs” as + </p> + <p> + “The glorious mystery of a woman’s heart,” + </p> + <p> + and it made him feel unfit for ordinary social intercourse. He hastened + from the house, walked swiftly down the avenue to the lodge, where he kept + his bicycle, left word there that he was going for an excursion and should + probably not return in time for dinner, mounted, and sped away recklessly + along the Riverside Road. In less than two minutes he passed the gate of + Sallust’s House, where he nearly ran over an old woman laden with a basket + of coals, who put down her burthen to scream curses after him. Warned by + this that his headlong pace was dangerous, he slackened it a little, and + presently saw Trefusis lying prone on the river bank, with his cheeks + propped on his elbows, reading intently. Erskine, who had presented him, a + few days before, with a copy of “The Patriot Martyrs and other Poems,” + tried to catch a glimpse of the book over which Trefusis was so serious. + It was a Blue Book, full of figures. Erskine rode on in disgust, consoling + himself with the recollection of Gertrude’s face. + </p> + <p> + The highway now swerved inland from the river, and rose to a steep + acclivity, at the brow of which he turned and looked back. The light was + growing ruddy, and the shadows were lengthening. Trefusis was still + prostrate in the meadow, and the old woman was in a field, gathering + hemlock. + </p> + <p> + Erskine raced down the hill at full speed, and did not look behind him + again until he found himself at nightfall on the skirts of a town, where + he purchased some beer and a sandwich, which he ate with little appetite. + Gertrude had set up a disturbance within him which made him impatient of + eating. + </p> + <p> + It was now dark. He was many miles from Brandon Beeches, and not sure of + the way back. Suddenly he resolved to complete his unfinished declaration + that evening. He now could not ride back fast enough to satisfy his + impatience. He tried a short cut, lost himself, spent nearly an hour + seeking the highroad, and at last came upon a railway station just in time + to catch a train that brought him within a mile of his destination. + </p> + <p> + When he rose from the cushions of the railway carriage he found himself + somewhat fatigued, and he mounted the bicycle stiffly. But his resolution + was as ardent as ever, and his heart beat strongly as, after leaving his + bicycle at the lodge, he walked up the avenue through the deep gloom + beneath the beeches. Near the house, the first notes of “Grudel perche + finora” reached him, and he stepped softly on to the turf lest his + footsteps on the gravel should rouse the dogs and make them mar the + harmony by barking. A rustle made him stop and listen. Then Gertrude’s + voice whispered through the darkness: + </p> + <p> + “What did you mean by what you said to me within?” + </p> + <p> + An extraordinary sensation shook Erskine; confused ideas of fairyland ran + through his imagination. A bitter disappointment, like that of waking from + a happy dream, followed as Trefusis’s voice, more finely tuned than he had + ever heard it before, answered, + </p> + <p> + “Merely that the expanse of stars above us is not more illimitable than my + contempt for Miss Lindsay, nor brighter than my hopes of Gertrude.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lindsay always to you, if you please, Mr. Trefusis.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lindsay never to me, but only to those who cannot see through her to + the soul within, which is Gertrude. There are a thousand Miss Lindsays in + the world, formal and false. There is but one Gertrude.” + </p> + <p> + “I am an unprotected girl, Mr. Trefusis, and you can call me what you + please.” + </p> + <p> + It occurred to Erskine that this was a fit occasion to rush forward and + give Trefusis, whose figure he could now dimly discern, a black eye. But + he hesitated, and the opportunity passed. + </p> + <p> + “Unprotected!” said Trefusis. “Why, you are fenced round and barred in + with conventions, laws, and lies that would frighten the truth from the + lips of any man whose faith in Gertrude was less strong than mine. Go to + Sir Charles and tell him what I have said to Miss Lindsay, and within ten + minutes I shall have passed these gates with a warning never to approach + them again. I am in your power, and were I in Miss Lindsay’s power alone, + my shrift would be short. Happily, Gertrude, though she sees as yet but + darkly, feels that Miss Lindsay is her bitterest foe.” + </p> + <p> + “It is ridiculous. I am not two persons; I am only one. What does it + matter to me if your contempt for me is as illimitable as the stars?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you remember that, do you? Whenever you hear a man talking about the + stars you may conclude that he is either an astronomer or a fool. But you + and a fine starry night would make a fool of any man.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand you. I try to, but I cannot; or, if I guess, I cannot + tell whether you are in earnest or not.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very much in earnest. Abandon at once and for ever all misgivings + that I am trifling with you, or passing an idle hour as men do when they + find themselves in the company of beautiful women. I mean what I say + literally, and in the deepest sense. You doubt me; we have brought society + to such a state that we all suspect one another. But whatever is true will + command belief sooner or later from those who have wit enough to + comprehend truth. Now let me recall Miss Lindsay to consciousness by + remarking that we have been out for ten minutes, and that our hostess is + not the woman to allow our absence to pass without comment.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go in. Thank you for reminding me.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for forgetting.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine heard their footsteps retreating, and presently saw the two enter + the glow of light that shone from the open window of the billiard room, + through which they went indoors. Trefusis, a man whom he had seen that day + in a beautiful landscape, blind to everything except a row of figures in a + Blue Book, was his successful rival, although it was plain from the very + sound of his voice that he did not—could not—love Gertrude. + Only a poet could do that. Trefusis was no poet, but a sordid brute + unlikely to inspire interest in anything more human than a public meeting, + much less in a woman, much less again in a woman so ethereal as Gertrude. + She was proud too, yet she had allowed the fellow to insult her—had + forgiven him for the sake of a few broad compliments. Erskine grew angry + and cynical. The situation did not suit his poetry. Instead of being + stricken to the heart with a solemn sorrow, as a Patriot Martyr would have + been under similar circumstances, he felt slighted and ridiculous. He was + hardly convinced of what had seemed at first the most obvious feature of + the case, Trefusis’s inferiority to himself. + </p> + <p> + He stood under the trees until Trefusis reappeared on his way home, + making, Erskine thought, as much noise with his heels on the gravel as a + regiment of delicately bred men would have done. He stopped for a moment + to make inquiry at the lodge as he went out; then his footsteps died away + in the distance. + </p> + <p> + Erskine, chilled, stiff, and with a sensation of a bad cold coming on, + went into the house, and was relieved to find that Gertrude had retired, + and that Lady Brandon, though she had been sure that he had ridden into + the river in the dark, had nevertheless provided a warm supper for him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + Erskine soon found plenty of themes for his newly begotten cynicism. + Gertrude’s manner towards him softened so much that he, believing her + heart given to his rival, concluded that she was tempting him to make a + proposal which she had no intention of accepting. Sir Charles, to whom he + told what he had overheard in the avenue, professed sympathy, but was + evidently pleased to learn that there was nothing serious in the + attentions Trefusis paid to Agatha. Erskine wrote three bitter sonnets on + hollow friendship and showed them to Sir Charles, who, failing to apply + them to himself, praised them highly and showed them to Trefusis without + asking the author’s permission. Trefusis remarked that in a corrupt + society expressions of dissatisfaction were always creditable to a + writer’s sensibility; but he did not say much in praise of the verse. + </p> + <p> + “Why has he taken to writing in this vein?” he said. “Has he been + disappointed in any way of late? Has he proposed to Miss Lindsay and been + rejected?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Sir Charles surprised by this blunt reference to a subject they + had never before discussed. “He does not intend to propose to Miss + Lindsay.” + </p> + <p> + “But he did intend to.” + </p> + <p> + “He certainly did, but he has given up the idea.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” said Trefusis, apparently disapproving strongly of the + renunciation. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles shrugged his shoulders and did not reply. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to hear it. I wish you could induce him to change his mind. He + is a nice fellow, with enough to live on comfortably, whilst he is yet + what is called a poor man, so that she could feel perfectly disinterested + in marrying him. It will do her good to marry without making a pecuniary + profit by it; she will respect herself the more afterwards, and will + neither want bread and butter nor be ashamed of her husband’s origin, in + spite of having married for love alone. Make a match of it if you can. I + take an interest in the girl; she has good instincts.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles’s suspicion that Trefusis was really paying court to Agatha + returned after this conversation, which he repeated to Erskine, who, much + annoyed because his poems had been shown to a reader of Blue Books, + thought it only a blind for Trefusis’s design upon Gertrude. Sir Charles + pooh-poohed this view, and the two friends were sharp with one another in + discussing it. After dinner, when the ladies had left them, Sir Charles, + repentant and cordial, urged Erskine to speak to Gertrude without + troubling himself as to the sincerity of Trefusis. But Erskine, knowing + himself ill able to brook a refusal, was loth to expose himself. + </p> + <p> + “If you had heard the tone of her voice when she asked him whether he was + in earnest, you would not talk to me like this,” he said despondently. “I + wish he had never come here.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that, at least, was no fault of mine, my dear fellow,” said Sir + Charles. “He came among us against my will. And now that he appears to + have been in the right—legally—about the field, it would look + like spite if I cut him. Besides, he really isn’t a bad man if he would + only let the women alone.” + </p> + <p> + “If he trifles with Miss Lindsay, I shall ask him to cross the Channel, + and have a shot at him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think he’d go,” said Sir Charles dubiously. “If I were you, I + would try my luck with Gertrude at once. In spite of what you heard, I + don’t believe she would marry a man of his origin. His money gives him an + advantage, certainly, but Gertrude has sent richer men to the rightabout.” + </p> + <p> + “Let the fellow have fair play,” said Erskine. “I may be wrong, of course; + all men are liable to err in judging themselves, but I think I could make + her happier than he can.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles was not so sure of that, but he cheerfully responded, + “Certainly. He is not the man for her at all, and you are. He knows it, + too.” + </p> + <p> + “Hmf!” muttered Erskine, rising dejectedly. “Let’s go upstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “By-the-bye, we are to call on him to-morrow, to go through his house, and + his collection of photographs. Photographs! Ha, ha! Damn his house!” said + Erskine. + </p> + <p> + Next day they went together to Sallust’s House. It stood in the midst of + an acre of land, waste except a little kitchen garden at the rear. The + lodge at the entrance was uninhabited, and the gates stood open, with dust + and fallen leaves heaped up against them. Free ingress had thus been + afforded to two stray ponies, a goat, and a tramp, who lay asleep in the + grass. His wife sat near, watching him. + </p> + <p> + “I have a mind to turn back,” said Sir Charles, looking about him in + disgust. “The place is scandalously neglected. Look at that rascal asleep + within full view of the windows.” + </p> + <p> + “I admire his cheek,” said Erskine. “Nice pair of ponies, too.” + </p> + <p> + Sallust’s House was square and painted cinnamon color. Beneath the cornice + was a yellow frieze with figures of dancing children, imitated from the + works of Donatello, and very unskilfully executed. There was a meagre + portico of four columns, painted red, and a plain pediment, painted + yellow. The colors, meant to match those of the walls, contrasted + disagreeably with them, having been applied more recently, apparently by a + color-blind artist. The door beneath the portico stood open. Sir Charles + rang the bell, and an elderly woman answered it; but before they could + address her, Trefusis appeared, clad in a painter’s jacket of white jean. + Following him in, they found that the house was a hollow square, enclosing + a courtyard with a bath sunk in the middle, and a fountain in the centre + of the bath. The courtyard, formerly open to the sky, was now roofed in + with dusty glass; the nymph that had once poured out the water of the + fountain was barren and mutilated; and the bath was partly covered in with + loose boards, the exposed part accommodating a heap of coals in one + corner, a heap of potatoes in another, a beer barrel, some old carpets, a + tarpaulin, and a broken canoe. The marble pavement extended to the outer + walls of the house, and was roofed in at the sides by the upper stories + which were supported by fluted stone columns, much stained and chipped. + The staircase, towards which Trefusis led his visitors, was a broad one at + the end opposite the door, and gave access to a gallery leading to the + upper rooms. + </p> + <p> + “This house was built in 1780 by an ancestor of my mother,” said Trefusis. + “He passed for a man of exquisite taste. He wished the place to be + maintained forever—he actually used that expression in his will—as + the family seat, and he collected a fine library here, which I found + useful, as all the books came into my hands in good condition, most of + them with the leaves uncut. Some people prize uncut copies of old + editions; a dealer gave me three hundred and fifty pounds for a lot of + them. I came into possession of a number of family fetishes—heirlooms, + as they are called. There was a sword that one of my forbears wore at + Edgehill and other battles in Charles the First’s time. We fought on the + wrong side, of course, but the sword fetched thirty-five shillings + nevertheless. You will hardly believe that I was offered one hundred and + fifty pounds for a gold cup worth about twenty-five, merely because Queen + Elizabeth once drank from it. This is my study. It was designed for a + banqueting hall.” + </p> + <p> + They entered a room as long as the wall of the house, pierced on one side + by four tall windows, between which square pillars, with Corinthian + capitals supporting the cornice, were half sunk in the wall. There were + similar pillars on the opposite side, but between them, instead of + windows, were arched niches in which stood life-size plaster statues, + chipped, broken, and defaced in an extraordinary fashion. The flooring, of + diagonally set narrow boards, was uncarpeted and unpolished. The ceiling + was adorned with frescoes, which at once excited Sir Charles’s interest, + and he noted with indignation that a large portion of the painting at the + northern end had been destroyed and some glass roofing inserted. In + another place bolts had been driven in to support the ropes of a trapeze + and a few other pieces of gymnastic apparatus. The walls were whitewashed, + and at about four feet from the ground a dark band appeared, produced by + pencil memoranda and little sketches scribbled on the whitewash. One end + of the apartment was unfurnished, except by the gymnastic apparatus, a + photographer’s camera, a ladder in the corner, and a common deal table + with oil cans and paint pots upon it. At the other end a comparatively + luxurious show was made by a large bookcase, an elaborate combination of + bureau and writing desk, a rack with a rifle, a set of foils, and an + umbrella in it, several folio albums on a table, some comfortable chairs + and sofas, and a thick carpet under foot. Close by, and seeming much out + of place, was a carpenter’s bench with the usual implements and a number + of boards of various thicknesses. + </p> + <p> + “This is a sort of comfort beyond the reach of any but a rich man,” said + Trefusis, turning and surprising his visitors in the act of exchanging + glances of astonishment at his taste. “I keep a drawing-room of the usual + kind for receiving strangers with whom it is necessary to be conventional, + but I never enter it except on such occasions. What do you think of this + for a study?” + </p> + <p> + “On my soul, Trefusis, I think you are mad,” said Sir Charles. “The place + looks as if it had stood a siege. How did you manage to break the statues + and chip the walls so outrageously?” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis took a newspaper from the table and said, “Listen to this: ‘In + spite of the unfavorable nature of the weather, the sport of the Emperor + and his guests in Styria has been successful. In three days 52 chamois and + 79 stags and deer fell to 19 single-barrelled rifles, the Emperor allowing + no more on this occasion.’ + </p> + <p> + “I share the Emperor’s delight in shooting, but I am no butcher, and do + not need the royal relish of blood to my sport. And I do not share my + ancestors’ taste in statuary. Hence—” Here Trefusis opened a drawer, + took out a pistol, and fired at the Hebe in the farthest niche. + </p> + <p> + “Well done!” said Erskine coolly, as the last fragment of Hebe’s head + crumbled at the touch of the bullet. + </p> + <p> + “Very fruitlessly done,” said Trefusis. “I am a good shot, but of what use + is it to me? None. I once met a gamekeeper who was a Methodist. He was a + most eloquent speaker, but a bad shot. If he could have swapped talents + with me I would have given him ten thousand pounds to boot willingly, + although he would have profited as much as I by the exchange alone. I have + no more desire or need to be a good shot than to be king of England, or + owner of a Derby winner, or anything else equally ridiculous, and yet I + never missed my aim in my life—thank blind fortune for nothing!” + </p> + <p> + “King of England!” said Erskine, with a scornful laugh, to show Trefusis + that other people were as liberty-loving as he. “Is it not absurd to hear + a nation boasting of its freedom and tolerating a king?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang your republicanism, Chester!” said Sir Charles, who privately + held a low opinion of the political side of the Patriot Martyrs. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t be put down on that point,” said Erskine. “I admire a man that + kills a king. You will agree with me there, Trefusis, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” said Trefusis. “A king nowadays is only a dummy put up to + draw your fire off the real oppressors of society, and the fraction of his + salary that he can spend as he likes is usually far too small for his + risk, his trouble, and the condition of personal slavery to which he is + reduced. What private man in England is worse off than the constitutional + monarch? We deny him all privacy; he may not marry whom he chooses, + consort with whom he prefers, dress according to his taste, or live where + he pleases. I don’t believe he may even eat or drink what he likes best; a + taste for tripe and onions on his part would provoke a remonstrance from + the Privy Council. We dictate everything except his thoughts and dreams, + and even these he must keep to himself if they are not suitable, in our + opinion, to his condition. The work we impose on him has all the hardship + of mere task work; it is unfruitful, incessant, monotonous, and has to be + transacted for the most part with nervous bores. We make his kingdom a + treadmill to him, and drive him to and fro on the face of it. Finally, + having taken everything else that men prize from him, we fall upon his + character, and that of every person to whom he ventures to show favor. We + impose enormous expenses on him, stint him, and then rail at his + parsimony. We use him as I use those statues—stick him up in the + place of honor for our greater convenience in disfiguring and abusing him. + We send him forth through our crowded cities, proclaiming that he is the + source of all good and evil in the nation, and he, knowing that many + people believe it, knowing that it is a lie, and that he is powerless to + shorten the working day by one hour, raise wages one penny, or annul the + smallest criminal sentence, however unjust it may seem to him; knowing + that every miner in the kingdom can manufacture dynamite, and that + revolvers are sold for seven and sixpence apiece; knowing that he is not + bullet proof, and that every king in Europe has been shot at in the + streets; he must smile and bow and maintain an expression of gracious + enjoyment whilst the mayor and corporation inflict upon him the twaddling + address he has heard a thousand times before. I do not ask you to be + loyal, Erskine; but I expect you, in common humanity, to sympathize with + the chief figure in the pageant, who is no more accountable for the + manifold evils and abominations that exist in his realm than the Lord + Mayor is accountable for the thefts of the pickpockets who follow his show + on the ninth of November.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles laughed at the trouble Trefusis took to prove his case, and + said soothingly, “My dear fellow, kings are used to it, and expect it, and + like it.” + </p> + <p> + “And probably do not see themselves as I see them, any more than common + people do,” assented Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “What an exquisite face!” exclaimed Erskine suddenly, catching sight of a + photograph in a rich gold and coral frame on a miniature easel draped with + ruby velvet. Trefusis turned quickly, so evidently gratified that Sir + Charles hastened to say, “Charming!” Then, looking at the portrait, he + added, as if a little startled, “It certainly is an extraordinarily + attractive face.” + </p> + <p> + “Years ago,” said Trefusis, “when I saw that face for the first time, I + felt as you feel now.” + </p> + <p> + Silence ensued, the two visitors looking at the portrait, Trefusis looking + at them. + </p> + <p> + “Curious style of beauty,” said Sir Charles at last, not quite so + assuredly as before. + </p> + <p> + Trefusis laughed unpleasantly. “Do you recognize the artist—the + enthusiastic amateur—in her?” he said, opening another drawer and + taking out a bundle of drawings, which he handed to be examined. + </p> + <p> + “Very clever. Very clever indeed,” said Sir Charles. “I should like to + meet the lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I have often been on the point of burning them,” said Trefusis; “but + there they are, and there they are likely to remain. The portrait has been + much admired.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you give us an introduction to the original, old fellow?” said + Erskine. + </p> + <p> + “No, happily. She is dead.” + </p> + <p> + Disagreeably shocked, they looked at him for a moment with aversion. Then + Erskine, turning with pity and disappointment to the picture, said, “Poor + girl! Was she married?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. To me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Trefusis!” exclaimed Sir Charles. “Ah! Dear me!” + </p> + <p> + Erskine, with proof before him that it was possible for a beautiful girl + to accept Trefusis, said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I keep her portrait constantly before me to correct my natural + amativeness. I fell in love with her and married her. I have fallen in + love once or twice since but a glance at my lost Hetty has cured me of the + slightest inclination to marry.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles did not reply. It occurred to him that Lady Brandon’s + portrait, if nothing else were left of her, might be useful in the same + way. + </p> + <p> + “Come, you will marry again one of these days,” said Erskine, in a forced + tone of encouragement. + </p> + <p> + “It is possible. Men should marry, especially rich men. But I assure you I + have no present intention of doing so.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine’s color deepened, and he moved away to the table where the albums + lay. + </p> + <p> + “This is the collection of photographs I spoke of,” said Trefusis, + following him and opening one of the books. “I took many of them myself + under great difficulties with regard to light—the only difficulty + that money could not always remove. This is a view of my father’s house—or + rather one of his houses. It cost seventy-five thousand pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Very handsome indeed,” said Sir Charles, secretly disgusted at being + invited to admire a photograph, such as house agents exhibit, of a + vulgarly designed country house, merely because it had cost seventy-five + thousand pounds. The figures were actually written beneath the picture. + </p> + <p> + “This is the drawing-room, and this one of the best bedrooms. In the + right-hand corner of the mount you will see a note of the cost of the + furniture, fittings, napery, and so forth. They were of the most luxurious + description.” + </p> + <p> + “Very interesting,” said Sir Charles, hardly disguising the irony of the + comment. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a view—this is the first of my own attempts—of the + apartment of one of the under servants. It is comfortable and spacious, + and solidly furnished.” + </p> + <p> + “So I perceive.” + </p> + <p> + “These are the stables. Are they not handsome?” + </p> + <p> + “Palatial. Quite palatial.” + </p> + <p> + “There is every luxury that a horse could desire, including plenty of + valets to wait on him. You are noting the figures, I hope. There is the + cost of the building and the expenditure per horse per annum.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is the exterior of a house. What do you think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is rather picturesque in its dilapidation.” + </p> + <p> + “Picturesque! Would you like to live in it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Erskine. “I don’t see anything very picturesque about it. What + induced you to photograph such a wretched old rookery?” + </p> + <p> + “Here is a view of the best room in it. Photography gives you a fair idea + of the broken flooring and patched windows, but you must imagine the dirt + and the odor of the place. Some of the stains are weather stains, others + came from smoke and filth. The landlord of the house holds it from a peer + and lets it out in tenements. Three families occupied that room when I + photographed it. You will see by the figures in the corner that it is more + profitable to the landlord than an average house in Mayfair. Here is the + cellar, let to a family for one and sixpence a week, and considered a + bargain. The sun never shines there, of course. I took it by artificial + light. You may add to the rent the cost of enough bad beer to make the + tenant insensible to the filth of the place. Beer is the chloroform that + enables the laborer to endure the severe operation of living; that is why + we can always assure one another over our wine that the rascal’s misery is + due to his habit of drinking. We are down on him for it, because, if he + could bear his life without beer, we should save his beer-money—get + him for lower wages. In short, we should be richer and he soberer. Here is + the yard; the arrangements are indescribable. Seven of the inhabitants of + that house had worked for years in my father’s mill. That is, they had + created a considerable part of the vast sums of money for drawing your + attention to which you were disgusted with me just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said Sir Charles faintly. + </p> + <p> + “You can see how their condition contrasts with that of my father’s + horses. The seven men to whom I have alluded, with three hundred others, + were thrown destitute upon the streets by this.” (Here he turned over a + leaf and displayed a photograph of an elaborate machine.) “It enabled my + father to dispense with their services, and to replace them by a handful + of women and children. He had bought the patent of the machine for fifty + pounds from the inventor, who was almost ruined by the expenses of his + ingenuity, and would have sacrificed anything for a handful of ready + money. Here is a portrait of my father in his masonic insignia. He + believed that freemasons generally get on in the world, and as the main + object of his life was to get on, he joined them, and wanted me to do the + same. But I object to pretended secret societies and hocus pocus, and + would not. You see what he was—a portly, pushing, egotistical + tradesman. Mark the successful man, the merchant prince with argosies on + every sea, the employer of thousands of hands, the munificent contributor + to public charities, the churchwarden, the member of parliament, and the + generous patron of his relatives his self-approbation struggling with the + instinctive sense of baseness in the money-hunter, the ignorant and greedy + filcher of the labor of others, the seller of his own mind and manhood for + luxuries and delicacies that he was too lowlived to enjoy, and for the + society of people who made him feel his inferiority at every turn.” + </p> + <p> + “And the man to whom you owe everything you possess,” said Erskine boldly. + </p> + <p> + “I possess very little. Everything he left me, except a few pictures, I + spent long ago, and even that was made by his slaves and not by him. My + wealth comes day by day fresh from the labor of the wretches who live in + the dens I have just shown you, or of a few aristocrats of labor who are + within ten shillings a week of being worse off. However, there is some + excuse for my father. Once, at an election riot, I got into a free fight. + I am a peaceful man, but as I had either to fight or be knocked down and + trampled upon, I exchanged blows with men who were perhaps as peacefully + disposed as I. My father, launched into a free competition (free in the + sense that the fight is free: that is, lawless)—my father had to + choose between being a slave himself and enslaving others. He chose the + latter, and as he was applauded and made much of for succeeding, who dare + blame him? Not I. Besides, he did something to destroy the anarchy that + enabled him to plunder society with impunity. He furnished me, its enemy, + with the powerful weapon of a large fortune. Thus our system of organizing + industry sometimes hatches the eggs from which its destroyers break. Does + Lady Brandon wear much lace?” + </p> + <p> + “I—No; that is—How the deuce do I know, Trefusis? What an + extraordinary question!” + </p> + <p> + “This is a photograph of a lace school. It was a filthy room, twelve feet + square. It was paved with brick, and the children were not allowed to wear + their boots, lest the lace should get muddy. However, as there were twenty + of them working there for fifteen hours a day—all girls—they + did not suffer much from cold. They were pretty tightly packed—may + be still, for aught I know. They brought three or four shillings a week + sometimes to their fond parents; and they were very quick-fingered little + creatures, and stuck intensely to their work, as the overseer always hit + them when they looked up or—” + </p> + <p> + “Trefusis,” said Sir Charles, turning away from the table, “I beg your + pardon, but I have no appetite for horrors. You really must not ask me to + go through your collection. It is no doubt very interesting, but I can’t + stand it. Have you nothing pleasant to entertain me with?” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! you are squeamish. However, as you are a novice, let us put off the + rest until you are seasoned. The pictures are not all horrible. Each book + refers to a different country. That one contains illustrations of modern + civilization in Germany, for instance. That one is France; that, British + India. Here you have the United States of America, home of liberty, + theatre of manhood suffrage, kingless and lordless land of Protection, + Republicanism, and the realized Radical Programme, where all the black + chattel slaves were turned into wage-slaves (like my father’s white + fellows) at a cost of 800,000 lives and wealth incalculable. You and I are + paupers in comparison with the great capitalists of that country, where + the laborers fight for bones with the Chinamen, like dogs. Some of these + great men presented me with photographs of their yachts and palaces, not + anticipating the use to which I would put them. Here are some portraits + that will not harrow your feelings. This is my mother, a woman of good + family, every inch a lady. Here is a Lancashire lass, the daughter of a + common pitman. She has exactly the same physical characteristics as my + well-born mother—the same small head, delicate features, and so + forth; they might be sisters. This villainous-looking pair might be twin + brothers, except that there is a trace of good humor about the one to the + right. The good-humored one is a bargee on the Lyvern Canal. The other is + one of the senior noblemen of the British Peerage. They illustrate the + fact that Nature, even when perverted by generations of famine fever, + ignores the distinctions we set up between men. This group of men and + women, all tolerably intelligent and thoughtful looking, are so-called + enemies of society—Nihilists, Anarchists, Communards, members of the + International, and so on. These other poor devils, worried, stiff, + strumous, awkward, vapid, and rather coarse, with here and there a + passably pretty woman, are European kings, queens, grand-dukes, and the + like. Here are ship-captains, criminals, poets, men of science, peers, + peasants, political economists, and representatives of dozens of degrees. + The object of the collection is to illustrate the natural inequality of + man, and the failure of our artificial inequality to correspond with it.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me a sort of infernal collection for the upsetting of + people’s ideas,” said Erskine. “You ought to label it ‘A Portfolio of + Paradoxes.’” + </p> + <p> + “In a rational state of society they would be paradoxes; but now the time + gives them proof—like Hamlet’s paradox. It is, however, a collection + of facts; and I will give no fanciful name to it. You dislike figures, + don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Unless they are by Phidias, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Here are a few, not by Phidias. This is the balance sheet of an attempt I + made some years ago to carry out the idea of an International Association + of Laborers—commonly known as THE International—or union of + all workmen throughout the world in defence of the interests of labor. You + see the result. Expenditure, four thousand five hundred pounds. + Subscriptions received from working-men, twenty-two pounds seven and ten + pence halfpenny. The British workmen showed their sense of my efforts to + emancipate them by accusing me of making a good thing out of the + Association for my own pocket, and by mobbing and stoning me twice. I now + help them only when they show some disposition to help themselves. I + occupy myself partly in working out a scheme for the reorganization of + industry, and partly in attacking my own class, women and all, as I am + attacking you.” + </p> + <p> + “There is little use in attacking us, I fear,” said Sir Charles. + </p> + <p> + “Great use,” said Trefusis confidently. “You have a very different opinion + of our boasted civilization now from that which you held when I broke your + wall down and invited those Land Nationalization zealots to march across + your pleasure ground. You have seen in my album something you had not seen + an hour ago, and you are consequently not quite the same man you were an + hour ago. My pictures stick in the mind longer than your scratchy + etchings, or the leaden things in which you fancy you see tender harmonies + in gray. Erskine’s next drama may be about liberty, but its Patriot + Martyrs will have something better to do than spout balderdash against + figure-head kings who in all their lives never secretly plotted as much + dastardly meanness, greed, cruelty, and tyranny as is openly voted for in + London by every half-yearly meeting of dividend-consuming vermin whose + miserable wage-slaves drudge sixteen hours out of the twenty-four.” + </p> + <p> + “What is going to be the end of it all?” said Sir Charles, a little dazed. + </p> + <p> + “Socialism or Smash. Socialism if the race has at last evolved the faculty + of coordinating the functions of a society too crowded and complex to be + worked any longer on the old haphazard private-property system. Unless we + reorganize our society socialistically—humanly a most arduous and + magnificent enterprise, economically a most simple and sound one—Free + Trade by itself will ruin England, and I will tell you exactly how. When + my father made his fortune we had the start of all other nations in the + organization of our industry and in our access to iron and coal. Other + nations bought our products for less than they must have spent to raise + them at home, and yet for so much more than they cost us, that profits + rolled in Atlantic waves upon our capitalists. When the workers, by their + trades-unions, demanded a share of the luck in the form of advanced wages, + it paid better to give them the little they dared to ask than to stop + gold-gathering to fight and crush them. But now our customers have set up + in their own countries improved copies of our industrial organization, and + have discovered places where iron and coal are even handier than they are + by this time in England. They produce for themselves, or buy elsewhere, + what they formerly bought from us. Our profits are vanishing, our + machinery is standing idle, our workmen are locked out. It pays now to + stop the mills and fight and crush the unions when the men strike, no + longer for an advance, but against a reduction. Now that these unions are + beaten, helpless, and drifting to bankruptcy as the proportion of + unemployed men in their ranks becomes greater, they are being petted and + made much of by our class; an infallible sign that they are making no + further progress in their duty of destroying us. The small capitalists are + left stranded by the ebb; the big ones will follow the tide across the + water, and rebuild their factories where steam power, water power, labor + power, and transport are now cheaper than in England, where they used to + be cheapest. The workers will emigrate in pursuit of the factory, but they + will multiply faster than they emigrate, and be told that their own + exorbitant demand for wages is driving capital abroad, and must continue + to do so whilst there is a Chinaman or a Hindoo unemployed to underbid + them. As the British factories are shut up, they will be replaced by + villas; the manufacturing districts will become fashionable resorts for + capitalists living on the interest of foreign investments; the farms and + sheep runs will be cleared for deer forests. All products that can in the + nature of things be manufactured elsewhere than where they are consumed + will be imported in payment of deer-forest rents from foreign sportsmen, + or of dividends due to shareholders resident in England, but holding + shares in companies abroad, and these imports will not be paid for by ex + ports, because rent and interest are not paid for at all—a fact + which the Free Traders do not yet see, or at any rate do not mention, + although it is the key to the whole mystery of their opponents. The cry + for Protection will become wild, but no one will dare resort to a + demonstrably absurd measure that must raise prices before it raises wages, + and that has everywhere failed to benefit the worker. There will be no + employment for anyone except in doing things that must be done on the + spot, such as unpacking and distributing the imports, ministering to the + proprietors as domestic servants, or by acting, preaching, paving, + lighting, housebuilding, and the rest; and some of these, as the + capitalist comes to regard ostentation as vulgar, and to enjoy a simpler + life, will employ fewer and fewer people. A vast proletariat, beginning + with a nucleus of those formerly employed in export trades, with their + multiplying progeny, will be out of employment permanently. They will + demand access to the land and machinery to produce for themselves. They + will be refused. They will break a few windows and be dispersed with a + warning to their leaders. They will burn a few houses and murder a + policeman or two, and then an example will be made of the warned. They + will revolt, and be shot down with machine-guns—emigrated—exterminated + anyhow and everyhow; for the proprietary classes have no idea of any other + means of dealing with the full claims of labor. You yourself, though you + would give fifty pounds to Jansenius’s emigration fund readily enough, + would call for the police, the military, and the Riot Act, if the people + came to Brandon Beeches and bade you turn out and work for your living + with the rest. Well, the superfluous proletariat destroyed, there will + remain a population of capitalists living on gratuitous imports and served + by a disaffected retinue. One day the gratuitous imports will stop in + consequence of the occurrence abroad of revolution and repudiation, fall + in the rate of interest, purchase of industries by governments for lump + sums, not reinvestable, or what not. Our capitalist community is then + thrown on the remains of the last dividend, which it consumes long before + it can rehabilitate its extinct machinery of production in order to + support itself with its own hands. Horses, dogs, cats, rats, blackberries, + mushrooms, and cannibalism only postpone—” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! ha!” shouted Sir Charles. “On my honor, I thought you were + serious at first, Trefusis. Come, confess, old chap; it’s all a fad of + yours. I half suspected you of being a bit of a crank.” And he winked at + Erskine. + </p> + <p> + “What I have described to you is the inevitable outcome of our present + Free Trade policy without Socialism. The theory of Free Trade is only + applicable to systems of exchange, not to systems of spoliation. Our + system is one of spoliation, and if we don’t abandon it, we must either + return to Protection or go to smash by the road I have just mapped. Now, + sooner than let the Protectionists triumph, the Cobden Club itself would + blow the gaff and point out to the workers that Protection only means + compelling the proprietors of England to employ slaves resident in England + and therefore presumably—though by no means necessarily—Englishmen. + This would open the eyes of the nation at last to the fact that England is + not their property. Once let them understand that and they would soon make + it so. When England is made the property of its inhabitants collectively, + England becomes socialistic. Artificial inequality will vanish then before + real freedom of contract; freedom of competition, or unhampered emulation, + will keep us moving ahead; and Free Trade will fulfil its promises at + last.” + </p> + <p> + “And the idlers and loafers,” said Erskine. “What of them?” + </p> + <p> + “You and I, in fact,” said Trefusis, “die of starvation, I suppose, unless + we choose to work, or unless they give us a little out-door relief in + consideration of our bad bringing-up.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that they will plunder us?” said Sir Charles. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that they will make us stop plundering them. If they hesitate to + strip us naked, or to cut our throats if we offer them the smallest + resistance, they will show us more mercy than we ever showed them. + Consider what we have done to get our rents in Ireland and Scotland, and + our dividends in Egypt, if you have already forgotten my photographs and + their lesson in our atrocities at home. Why, man, we murder the great mass + of these toilers with overwork and hardship; their average lifetime is not + half as long as ours. Human nature is the same in them as in us. If we + resist them, and succeed in restoring order, as we call it, we will punish + them mercilessly for their insubordination, as we did in Paris in 1871, + where, by-the-bye, we taught them the folly of giving their enemies + quarter. If they beat us, we shall catch it, and serve us right. Far + better turn honest at once and avert bloodshed. Eh, Erskine?” + </p> + <p> + Erskine was considering what reply he should make, when Trefusis + disconcerted him by ringing a bell. Presently the elderly woman appeared, + pushing before her an oblong table mounted on wheels, like a barrow. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Trefusis, and dismissed her. “Here is some good wine, + some good water, some good fruit, and some good bread. I know that you + cling to wine as to a good familiar creature. As for me, I make no + distinction between it and other vegetable poisons. I abstain from them + all. Water for serenity, wine for excitement. I, having boiling springs of + excitement within myself, am never at a loss for it, and have only to seek + serenity. However,” (here he drew a cork), “a generous goblet of this will + make you feel like gods for half an hour at least. Shall we drink to your + conversion to Socialism?” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Mr. Donovan Brown, the great artist, is a Socialist, and why should + not you be one?” + </p> + <p> + “Donovan Brown!” exclaimed Sir Charles with interest. “Is it possible? Do + you know him personally?” + </p> + <p> + “Here are several letters from him. You may read them; the mere autograph + of such a man is interesting.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles took the letters and read them earnestly, Erskine reading over + his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I most cordially agree with everything he says here,” said Sir Charles. + “It is quite true, quite true.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you agree with us. Donovan Brown’s eminence as an artist has + gained me one recruit, and yours as a baronet will gain me some more.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” said Trefusis, deftly opening one of the albums at a + photograph of a loathsome room. + </p> + <p> + “You are against that, are you not? Donovan Brown is against it, and I am + against it. You may disagree with us in everything else, but there you are + at one with us. Is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + “But that may be the result of drunkenness, improvidence, or—” + </p> + <p> + “My father’s income was fifty times as great as that of Donovan Brown. Do + you believe that Donovan Brown is fifty times as drunken and improvident + as my father was?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. I do not deny that there is much in what you urge. Still, + you ask me to take a rather important step.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. I don’t ask you to subscribe to, join, or in any way + pledge yourself to any society or conspiracy whatsoever. I only want your + name for private mention to cowards who think Socialism right, but will + not say so because they do not think it respectable. They will not be + ashamed of their convictions when they learn that a baronet shares them. + Socialism offers you something already, you see; a good use for your + hitherto useless title.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles colored a little, conscious that the example of his favorite + painter had influenced him more than his own conviction or the arguments + of Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, Chester?” he said. “Will you join?” + </p> + <p> + “Erskine is already committed to the cause of liberty by his published + writings,” said Trefusis. “Three of the pamphlets on that shelf contain + quotations from ‘The Patriot Martyrs.’” + </p> + <p> + Erskine blushed, flattered by being quoted; an attention that had been + shown him only once before, and then by a reviewer with the object of + proving that the Patriot Martyrs were slovenly in their grammar. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” said Trefusis. “Shall I write to Donovan Brown that his letters + have gained the cordial assent and sympathy of Sir Charles Brandon?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, certainly. That is, if my unknown name would be of the least + interest to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Trefusis, filling his glass with water. “Erskine, let us + drink to our brother Social Democrat.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine laughed loudly, but not heartily. “What an ass you are, Brandon!” + he said. “You, with a large landed estate, and bags of gold invested in + railways, calling yourself a Social Democrat! Are you going to sell out + and distribute—to sell all that thou hast and give to the poor?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a penny,” replied Trefusis for him promptly. “A man cannot be a + Christian in this country. I have tried it and found it impossible both in + law and in fact. I am a capitalist and a landholder. I have railway + shares, mining shares, building shares, bank shares, and stock of most + kinds; and a great trouble they are to me. But these shares do not + represent wealth actually in existence; they are a mortgage on the labor + of unborn generations of laborers, who must work to keep me and mine in + idleness and luxury. If I sold them, would the mortgage be cancelled and + the unborn generations released from its thrall? No. It would only pass + into the hands of some other capitalist, and the working class would be no + better off for my self-sacrifice. Sir Charles cannot obey the command of + Christ; I defy him to do it. Let him give his land for a public park; only + the richer classes will have leisure to enjoy it. Plant it at the very + doors of the poor, so that they may at last breathe its air, and it will + raise the value of the neighboring houses and drive the poor away. Let him + endow a school for the poor, like Eton or Christ’s Hospital, and the rich + will take it for their own children as they do in the two instances I have + named. Sir Charles does not want to minister to poverty, but to abolish + it. No matter how much you give to the poor, everything except a bare + subsistence wage will be taken from them again by force. All talk of + practicing Christianity, or even bare justice, is at present mere waste of + words. How can you justly reward the laborer when you cannot ascertain the + value of what he makes, owing to the prevalent custom of stealing it? I + know this by experience. I wanted to pay a just price for my wife’s tomb, + but I could not find out its value, and never shall. The principle on + which we farm out our national industry to private marauders, who + recompense themselves by black-mail, so corrupts and paralyzes us that we + cannot be honest even when we want to. And the reason we bear it so calmly + is that very few of us really want to.” + </p> + <p> + “I must study this question of value,” said Sir Charles dubiously, + refilling his goblet. “Can you recommend me a good book on the subject?” + </p> + <p> + “Any good treatise on political economy will do,” said Trefusis. “In + economics all roads lead to Socialism, although in nine cases out of ten, + so far, the economist doesn’t recognize his destination, and incurs the + malediction pronounced by Jeremiah on those who justify the wicked for + reward. I will look you out a book or two. And if you will call on Donovan + Brown the next time you are in London, he will be delighted, I know. He + meets with very few who are capable of sympathizing with him from both his + points of view—social and artistic.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles brightened on being reminded of Donovan Brown. “I shall esteem + an introduction to him a great honor,” he said. “I had no idea that he was + a friend of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I was a very practical young Socialist when I first met him,” said + Trefusis. “When Brown was an unknown and wretchedly poor man, my mother, + at the petition of a friend of his, charitably bought one of his pictures + for thirty pounds, which he was very glad to get. Years afterwards, when + my mother was dead, and Brown famous, I was offered eight hundred pounds + for this picture, which was, by-the-bye, a very bad one in my opinion. + Now, after making the usual unjust allowance for interest on thirty pounds + for twelve years or so that had elapsed, the sale of the picture would + have brought me in a profit of over seven hundred and fifty pounds, an + unearned increment to which I had no righteous claim. My solicitor, to + whom I mentioned the matter, was of opinion that I might justifiably + pocket the seven hundred and fifty pounds as reward for my mother’s + benevolence in buying a presumably worthless picture from an obscure + painter. But he failed to convince me that I ought to be paid for my + mother’s virtues, though we agreed that neither I nor my mother had + received any return in the shape of pleasure in contemplating the work, + which had deteriorated considerably by the fading of the colors since its + purchase. At last I went to Brown’s studio with the picture, and told him + that it was worth nothing to me, as I thought it a particularly bad one, + and that he might have it back again for fifteen pounds, half the first + price. He at once told me that I could get from any dealer more for it + than he could afford to give me; but he told me too that I had no right to + make a profit out of his work, and that he would give me the original + price of thirty pounds. I took it, and then sent him the man who had + offered me the eight hundred. To my discomfiture Brown refused to sell it + on any terms, because he considered it unworthy of his reputation. The man + bid up to fifteen hundred, but Brown held out; and I found that instead of + putting seven hundred and seventy pounds into his pocket I had taken + thirty out of it. I accordingly offered to return the thirty pieces. + Brown, taking the offer as an insult, declined all further communication + with me. I then insisted on the matter being submitted to arbitration, and + demanded fifteen hundred pounds as the full exchange value of the picture. + All the arbitrators agreed that this was monstrous, whereupon I contended + that if they denied my right to the value in exchange, they must admit my + right to the value in use. They assented to this after putting off their + decision for a fortnight in order to read Adam Smith and discover what on + earth I meant by my values in use and exchange. I now showed that the + picture had no value in use to me, as I disliked it, and that therefore I + was entitled to nothing, and that Brown must take back the thirty pounds. + They were glad to concede this also to me, as they were all artist friends + of Brown, and wished him not to lose money by the transaction, though they + of course privately thought that the picture was, as I described it, a bad + one. After that Brown and I became very good friends. He tolerated my + advances, at first lest it should seem that he was annoyed by my + disparagement of his work. Subsequently he fell into my views much as you + have done.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very interesting,” said Sir Charles. “What a noble thing—refusing + fifteen hundred pounds! He could ill afford it, probably.” + </p> + <p> + “Heroic—according to nineteenth century notions of heroism. + Voluntarily to throw away a chance of making money! that is the ne plus + ultra of martyrdom. Brown’s wife was extremely angry with him for doing + it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is an interesting story—or might be made so,” said Erskine. “But + you make my head spin with your confounded exchange values and stuff. + Everything is a question of figures with you.” + </p> + <p> + “That comes of my not being a poet,” said Trefusis. “But we Socialists + need to study the romantic side of our movement to interest women in it. + If you want to make a cause grow, instruct every woman you meet in it. She + is or will one day be a wife, and will contradict her husband with scraps + of your arguments. A squabble will follow. The son will listen, and will + be set thinking if he be capable of thought. And so the mind of the people + gets leavened. I have converted many young women. Most of them know no + more of the economic theory of Socialism than they know of Chaldee; but + they no longer fear or condemn its name. Oh, I assure you that much can be + done in that way by men who are not afraid of women, and who are not in + too great a hurry to see the harvest they have sown for.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care. Some of your lady proselytes may get the better of you some + day. The future husband to be contradicted may be Sidney Trefusis. Ha! ha! + ha!” Sir Charles had emptied a second large goblet of wine, and was a + little flushed and boisterous. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Trefusis, “I have had enough of love myself, and am not likely + to inspire it. Women do not care for men to whom, as Erskine says, + everything is a question of figures. I used to flirt with women; now I + lecture them, and abhor a man-flirt worse than I do a woman one. Some more + wine? Oh, you must not waste the remainder of this bottle.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we had better go, Brandon,” said Erskine, his mistrust of + Trefusis growing. “We promised to be back before two.” + </p> + <p> + “So you shall,” said Trefusis. “It is not yet a quarter past one. + By-the-bye, I have not shown you Donovan Brown’s pet instrument for the + regeneration of society. Here it is. A monster petition praying that the + holding back from the laborer of any portion of the net value produced by + his labor be declared a felony. That is all.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine nudged Sir Charles, who said hastily, “Thank you, but I had rather + not sign anything.” + </p> + <p> + “A baronet sign such a petition!” exclaimed Trefusis. “I did not think of + asking you. I only show it to you as an interesting historical document, + containing the autographs of a few artists and poets. There is Donovan + Brown’s for example. It was he who suggested the petition, which is not + likely to do much good, as the thing cannot be done in any such fashion + However, I have promised Brown to get as many signatures as I can; so you + may as well sign it, Erskine. It says nothing in blank verse about the + holiness of slaying a tyrant, but it is a step in the right direction. You + will not stick at such a trifle—unless the reviews have frightened + you. Come, your name and address.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Do you then only commit yourself to revolutionary sentiments when there + is a chance of winning fame as a poet by them?” + </p> + <p> + “I will not sign, simply because I do not choose to,” said Erskine warmly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said Trefusis, almost affectionately, “if a man has a + conscience he can have no choice in matters of conviction. I have read + somewhere in your book that the man who will not shed his blood for the + liberty of his brothers is a coward and a slave. Will you not shed a drop + of ink—my ink, too—for the right of your brothers to the work + of their hands? I at first sight did not care to sign this petition, + because I would as soon petition a tiger to share his prey with me as our + rulers to relax their grip of the stolen labor they live on. But Donovan + Brown said to me, ‘You have no choice. Either you believe that the laborer + should have the fruit of his labor or you do not. If you do, put your + conviction on record, even if it should be as useless as Pilate’s washing + his hands.’ So I signed.” + </p> + <p> + “Donovan Brown was right,” said Sir Charles. “I will sign.” And he did so + with a flourish. + </p> + <p> + “Brown will be delighted,” said Trefusis. “I will write to him to-day that + I have got another good signature for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Two more,” said Sir Charles. “You shall sign, Erskine; hang me if you + shan’t! It is only against rascals that run away without paying their men + their wages.” + </p> + <p> + “Or that don’t pay them in full,” observed Trefusis, with a curious smile. + “But do not sign if you feel uncomfortable about it.” + </p> + <p> + “If you don’t sign after me, you are a sneak, Chester,” said Sir Charles. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what it means,” said Erskine, wavering. “I don’t understand + petitions.” + </p> + <p> + “It means what it says; you cannot be held responsible for any meaning + that is not expressed in it,” said Trefusis. “But never mind. You mistrust + me a little, I fancy, and would rather not meddle with my petitions; but + you will think better of that as you grow used to me. Meanwhile, there is + no hurry. Don’t sign yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! I don’t doubt your good faith,” said Erskine, hastily + disavowing suspicions which he felt but could not account for. “Here + goes!” And he signed. + </p> + <p> + “Well done!” said Trefusis. “This will make Brown happy for the rest of + the month.” + </p> + <p> + “It is time for us to go now,” said Erskine gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “Look in upon me at any time; you shall be welcome,” said Trefusis. “You + need not stand upon any sort of ceremony.” + </p> + <p> + Then they parted; Sir Charles assuring Trefusis that he had never spent a + more interesting morning, and shaking hands with him at considerable + length three times. Erskine said little until he was in the Riverside Road + with his friend, when he suddenly burst out: + </p> + <p> + “What the devil do you mean by drinking two tumblers of such staggering + stuff at one o’clock in the day in the house of a dangerous man like that? + I am very sorry I went into the fellow’s place. I had misgivings about it, + and they have been fully borne out.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” said Sir Charles, taken aback. + </p> + <p> + “He has overreached us. I was a deuced fool to sign that paper, and so + were you. It was for that that he invited us.” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish, my dear boy. It was not his paper, but Donovan Brown’s.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it. Most likely he talked Brown into signing it just as he talked + us. I tell you his ways are all crooked, like his ideas. Did you hear how + he lied about Miss Lindsay?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you were mistaken about that. He does not care two straws for her or + for anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you are satisfied, I am not. You would not be in such high + spirits over it if you had taken as little wine as I.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! you’re too ridiculous. It was capital wine. Do you mean to say I + am drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But you would not have signed if you had not taken that second + goblet. If you had not forced me—I could not get out of it after you + set the example—I would have seen him d—d sooner than have had + anything to do with his petition.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see what harm can come of it,” said Sir Charles, braving out some + secret disquietude. + </p> + <p> + “I will never go into his house again,” said Erskine moodily. “We were + just like two flies in a spider’s web.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Trefusis was fulfilling his promise to write to Donovan Brown. + </p> + <p> + “Sallust’s House. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Brown: I have spent the forenoon angling for a couple of very young + fish, and have landed them with more trouble than they are worth. One has + gaudy scales: he is a baronet, and an amateur artist, save the mark. All + my arguments and my little museum of photographs were lost on him; but + when I mentioned your name, and promised him an introduction to you, he + gorged the bait greedily. He was half drunk when he signed; and I should + not have let him touch the paper if I had not convinced myself beforehand + that he means well, and that my wine had only freed his natural generosity + from his conventional cowardice and prejudice. We must get his name + published in as many journals as possible as a signatory to the great + petition; it will draw on others as your name drew him. The second novice, + Chichester Erskine, is a young poet. He will not be of much use to us, + though he is a devoted champion of liberty in blank verse, and dedicates + his works to Mazzini, etc. He signed reluctantly. All this hesitation is + the uncertainty that comes of ignorance; they have not found out the truth + for themselves, and are afraid to trust me, matters having come to the + pass at which no man dares trust his fellow. + </p> + <p> + “I have met a pretty young lady here who might serve you as a model for + Hypatia. She is crammed with all the prejudices of the peerage, but I am + effecting a cure. I have set my heart on marrying her to Erskine, who, + thinking that I am making love to her on my own account, is jealous. The + weather is pleasant here, and I am having a merry life of it, but I find + myself too idle. Etc., etc., etc.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + One sunny forenoon, as Agatha sat reading on the doorstep of the + conservatory, the shadow of her parasol deepened, and she, looking up for + something denser than the silk of it, saw Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + She offered him no further greeting, having fallen in with his habit of + dispensing, as far as possible, with salutations and ceremonies. He seemed + in no hurry to speak, and so, after a pause, she began, “Sir Charles—” + </p> + <p> + “Is gone to town,” he said. “Erskine is out on his bicycle. Lady Brandon + and Miss Lindsay have gone to the village in the wagonette, and you have + come out here to enjoy the summer sun and read rubbish. I know all your + news already.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very clever, and, as usual, wrong. Sir Charles has not gone to + town. He has only gone to the railway station for some papers; he will be + back for luncheon. How do you know so much of our affairs?” + </p> + <p> + “I was on the roof of my house with a field-glass. I saw you come out and + sit down here. Then Sir Charles passed. Then Erskine. Then Lady Brandon, + driving with great energy, and presenting a remarkable contrast to the + disdainful repose of Gertrude.” + </p> + <p> + “Gertrude! I like your cheek.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you dislike my presumption.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I think cheek a more expressive word than presumption; and I mean + that I like it—that it amuses me.” + </p> + <p> + “Really! What are you reading?” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish, you said just now. A novel.” + </p> + <p> + “That is, a lying story of two people who never existed, and who would + have acted very differently if they had existed.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you not imagine something just as amusing for yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so; but it would be too much trouble. Besides, cooking takes away + one’s appetite for eating. I should not relish stories of my own + confection.” + </p> + <p> + “Which volume are you at?” + </p> + <p> + “The third.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the hero and heroine are on the point of being united?” + </p> + <p> + “I really don’t know. This is one of your clever novels. I wish the + characters would not talk so much.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter. Two of them are in love with one another, are they not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It would not be a novel without that.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe, in your secret soul, Agatha—I take the liberty of + using your Christian name because I wish to be very solemn—do you + really believe that any human being was ever unselfish enough to love + another in the story-book fashion?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. At least I suppose so. I have never thought much about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it. My own belief is that no latter-day man has any faith in the + thoroughness or permanence of his affection for his mate. Yet he does not + doubt the sincerity of her professions, and he conceals the hollowness of + his own from her, partly because he is ashamed of it, and partly out of + pity for her. And she, on the other side, is playing exactly the same + comedy.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe that is what men do, but not women.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Pray do you remember pretending to be very much in love with me + once when—” + </p> + <p> + Agatha reddened and placed her palm on the step as if about to spring up. + But she checked herself and said: “Stop, Mr. Trefusis. If you talk about + that I shall go away. I wonder at you! Have you no taste?’, + </p> + <p> + “None whatever. And as I was the aggrieved party on that—stay, don’t + go. I will never allude to it again. I am growing afraid of you. You used + to be afraid of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and you used to bully me. You have a habit of bullying women who are + weak enough to fear you. You are a great deal cleverer than I, and know + much more, I dare say; but I am not in the least afraid of you now.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no reason to be, and never had any. Henrietta, if she were + alive, could testify that it there is a defect in my relations with women, + it arises from my excessive amiability. I could not refuse a woman + anything she had set her heart upon—except my hand in marriage. As + long as your sex are content to stop short of that they can do as they + please with me.” + </p> + <p> + “How cruel! I thought you were nearly engaged to Gertrude.” + </p> + <p> + “The usual interpretation of a friendship between a man and a woman! I + have never thought of such a thing; and I am sure she never has. We are + not half so intimate as you and Sir Charles.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Sir Charles is married. And I advise you to get married if you wish + to avoid creating misunderstandings by your friendships.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis was struck. Instead of answering, he stood, after one startled + glance at her, looking intently at the knuckle of his forefinger. + </p> + <p> + “Do take pity on our poor sex,” said Agatha maliciously. “You are so rich, + and so very clever, and really so nice looking that you ought to share + yourself with somebody. Gertrude would be only too happy.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis grinned and shook his head, slowly but emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose <i>I</i> should have no chance,” continued Agatha pathetically. + </p> + <p> + “I should be delighted, of course,” he replied with simulated confusion, + but with a lurking gleam in his eye that might have checked her, had she + noticed it. + </p> + <p> + “Do marry me, Mr. Trefusis,” she pleaded, clasping her hands in a rapture + of mischievous raillery. “Pray do.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Trefusis determinedly; “I will.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sure you shan’t,” said Agatha, after an incredulous pause, + springing up and gathering her skirt as if to run away. “You do not + suppose I was in earnest, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly I do. <i>I</i> am in earnest.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha hesitated, uncertain whether he might not be playing with her as + she had just been playing with him. “Take care,” she said. “I may change + my mind and be in earnest, too; and then how will you feel, Mr. Trefusis?” + </p> + <p> + “I think, under our altered relations, you had better call me Sidney.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we had better drop the joke. It was in rather bad taste, and I + should not have made it, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be an execrable joke; therefore I have no intention of regarding + it as one. You shall be held to your offer, Agatha. Are you in love with + me?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least. Not the very smallest bit in the world. I do not know + anybody with whom I am less in love or less likely to be in love.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must marry me. If you were in love with me, I should run away. + My sainted Henrietta adored me, and I proved unworthy of adoration—though + I was immensely flattered.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; exactly! The way you treated your first wife ought to be sufficient + to warn any woman against becoming your second.” + </p> + <p> + “Any woman who loved me, you mean. But you do not love me, and if I run + away you will have the advantage of being rid of me. Our settlements can + be drawn so as to secure you half my fortune in such an event.” + </p> + <p> + “You will never have a chance of running away from me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not want to. I am not so squeamish as I was. No; I do not think I + shall run away from you.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think so either.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, when shall we be married?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” said Agatha, and fled. But before she had gone a step he caught + her. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t,” she said breathlessly. “Take your arm away. How dare you?” + </p> + <p> + He released her and shut the door of the conservatory. “Now,” he said, “if + you want to run away you will have to run in the open.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very impertinent. Let me go in immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to beg you to marry me after you have offered to do it + freely?” + </p> + <p> + “But I was only joking; I don’t care for you,” she said, looking round for + an outlet. + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” he said, with grim patience, “half an hour ago I had no more + intention of marrying you than of making a voyage to the moon. But when + you made the suggestion I felt all its force in an instant, and now + nothing will satisfy me but your keeping your word. Of all the women I + know, you are the only one not quite a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be a great fool if—” + </p> + <p> + “If you married me, you were going to say; but I don’t think so. I am the + only man, not quite an ass, of your acquaintance. I know my value, and + yours. And I loved you long ago, when I had no right to.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha frowned. “No,” she said. “There is no use in saying anything more + about it. It is out of the question.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, don’t be vindictive. I was more sincere then than you were. But + that has nothing to do with the present. You have spent our renewed + acquaintance on the defensive against me, retorting upon me, teasing and + tempting me. Be generous for once, and say Yes with a good will.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I NEVER tempted you,” cried Agatha. “I did not. It is not true.” He + said nothing, but offered his hand. “No; go away; I will not.” He + persisted, and she felt her power of resistance suddenly wane. + Terror-stricken, she said hastily, “There is not the least use in + bothering me; I will tell you nothing to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Promise me on your honor that you will say Yes to-morrow, and I will + leave you in peace until then.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce take your sex,” he said plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “You know my mind now, and I have to stand here coquetting because you + don’t know your own. If I cared for my comfort I should remain a + bachelor.” + </p> + <p> + “I advise you to do so,” she said, stealing backward towards the door. + “You are a very interesting widower. A wife would spoil you. Consider the + troubles of domesticity, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I like troubles. They strengthen—Aha!” (she had snatched at the + knob of the door, and he swiftly put his hand on hers and stayed her). + “Not yet, if you please. Can you not speak out like a woman—like a + man, I mean? You may withhold a bone from Max until he stands on his hind + legs to beg for it, but you should not treat me like a dog. Say Yes + frankly, and do not keep me begging.” + </p> + <p> + “What in the world do you want to marry me for?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I was made to carry a house on my shoulders, and will do so. I + want to do the best I can for myself, and I shall never have such a chance + again. And I cannot help myself, and don’t know why; that is the plain + truth of the matter. You will marry someone some day.” She shook her head. + “Yes, you will. Why not marry me?” + </p> + <p> + Agatha bit her nether lip, looked ruefully at the ground, and, after a + long pause, said reluctantly, “Very well. But mind, I think you are acting + very foolishly, and if you are disappointed afterwards, you must not blame + ME.” + </p> + <p> + “I take the risk of my bargain,” he said, releasing her hand, and leaning + against the door as he took out his pocket diary. “You will have to take + the risk of yours, which I hope may not prove the worse of the two. This + is the seventeenth of June. What date before the twenty-fourth of July + will suit you?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the twenty-fourth of July next year, I presume?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I mean this year. I am going abroad on that date, married or not, to + attend a conference at Geneva, and I want you to come with me. I will show + you a lot of places and things that you have never seen before. It is your + right to name the day, but you have no serious business to provide for, + and I have.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don’t know all the things I shall—I should have to provide. + You had better wait until you come back from the continent.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to be provided on your part but settlements and your + trousseau. The trousseau is all nonsense; and Jansenius knows me of old in + the matter of settlements. I got married in six weeks before.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agatha sharply, “but I am not Henrietta.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank Heaven,” he assented placidly. + </p> + <p> + Agatha was struck with remorse. “That was a vile thing for me to say,” she + said; “and for you too.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever is true is to the purpose, vile or not. Will you come to Geneva + on the twenty-fourth?” + </p> + <p> + “But—I really was not thinking when I—I did not intend to say + that I would—I—” + </p> + <p> + “I know. You will come if we are married.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. IF we are married.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall be married. Do not write either to your mother or Jansenius + until I ask you.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t intend to. I have nothing to write about.” + </p> + <p> + “Wretch that you are! And do not be jealous if you catch me making love to + Lady Brandon. I always do so; she expects it.” + </p> + <p> + “You may make love to whom you please. It is no concern of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Here comes the wagonette with Lady Brandon and Ger—and Miss + Lindsay. I mustn’t call her Gertrude now except when you are not by. + Before they interrupt us, let me remind you of the three points we are + agreed upon. I love you. You do not love me. We are to be married before + the twenty-fourth of next month. Now I must fly to help her ladyship to + alight.” + </p> + <p> + He hastened to the house door, at which the wagonette had just stopped. + Agatha, bewildered, and ashamed to face her friends, went in through the + conservatory, and locked herself in her room. + </p> + <p> + Trefusis went into the library with Gertrude whilst Lady Brandon loitered + in the hall to take off her gloves and ask questions of the servants. When + she followed, she found the two standing together at the window. Gertrude + was listening to him with the patient expression she now often wore when + he talked. He was smiling, but it struck Jane that he was not quite at + ease. “I was just beginning to tell Miss Lindsay,” he said, “of an + extraordinary thing that has happened during your absence.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” exclaimed Jane, with sudden conviction. “The heater in the + conservatory has cracked.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly,” said Trefusis; “but, if so, I have not heard of it.” + </p> + <p> + “If it hasn’t cracked, it will,” said Jane gloomily. Then, assuming with + some effort an interest in Trefusis’s news, she added: “Well, what has + happened?” + </p> + <p> + “I was chatting with Miss Wylie just now, when a singular idea occurred to + us. We discussed it for some time; and the upshot is that we are to be + married before the end of next month.” + </p> + <p> + Jane reddened and stared at him; and he looked keenly back at her. + Gertrude, though unobserved, did not suffer her expression of patient + happiness to change in the least; but a greenish-white color suddenly + appeared in her face, and only gave place very slowly to her usual + complexion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that you are going to marry AGATHA?” said Lady Brandon + incredulously, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I had no intention of doing so when I last saw you or I should have + told you.” + </p> + <p> + “I never heard of such a thing in my life! You fell in love with one + another in five minutes, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens, no! we are not in love with one another. Can you believe + that I would marry for such a frivolous reason? No. The subject turned up + accidentally, and the advantage of a match between us struck me forcibly. + I was fortunate enough to convert her to my opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; she wanted a lot of pressing, I dare say,” said Jane, glancing at + Gertrude, who was smiling unmeaningly. + </p> + <p> + “As you imply,” said Trefusis coolly, “her reluctance may have been + affected, and she only too glad to get such a charming husband. Assuming + that to be the case, she dissembled remarkably well.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude took off her bonnet, and left the room without speaking. + </p> + <p> + “This is my revenge upon you for marrying Brandon,” he said then, + approaching Jane. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” she retorted ironically. “I believe all that, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “You have the same security for its truth as for that of all the foolish + things I confess to you. There!” He pointed to a panel of looking glass, + in which Jane’s figure was reflected at full length. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see anything to admire,” said Jane, looking at herself with no + great favor. “There is plenty of me, if you admire that.” + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible to have too much of a good thing. But I must not look + any more. Though Agatha says she does not love me, I am not sure that she + would be pleased if I were to look for love from anyone else.” + </p> + <p> + “Says she does not love you! Don’t believe her; she has taken trouble + enough to catch you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am flattered. You caught me without any trouble, and yet you would not + have me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is manners to wait to be asked. I think you have treated Gertrude + shamefully—I hope you won’t be offended with me for saying so. I + blame Agatha most. She is an awfully double-faced girl.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” said Trefusis, surprised. “What has Miss Lindsay to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “You know very well.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you I do not. If you were speaking of yourself I could + understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you can get out of it cleverly, like all men; but you can’t hoodwink + me. You shouldn’t have pretended to like Gertrude when you were really + pulling a cord with Agatha. And she, too, pretending to flirt with Sir + Charles—as if he would care twopence for her!” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis seemed a little disturbed. “I hope Miss Lindsay had no such—but + she could not.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, couldn’t she? You will soon see whether she had or not.” + </p> + <p> + “You misunderstood us, Lady Brandon; Miss Lindsay knows better. Remember, + too, that this proposal of mine was quite unpremeditated. This morning I + had no tender thoughts of anyone except one whom it would be improper to + name.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is all talk. It won’t do now.” + </p> + <p> + “I will talk no more at present. I must be off to the village to telegraph + to my solicitor. If I meet Erskine I will tell him the good news.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be delighted. He thought, as we all did, that you were cutting + him out with Gertrude.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis smiled, shook his head, and, with a glance of admiring homage to + Jane’s charms, went out. Jane was contemplating herself in the glass when + a servant begged her to come and speak to Master Charles and Miss Fanny. + She hurried upstairs to the nursery, where her boy and girl, disputing + each other’s prior right to torture the baby, had come to blows. They were + somewhat frightened, but not at all appeased, by Jane’s entrance. She + scolded, coaxed, threatened, bribed, quoted Dr. Watts, appealed to the + nurse and then insulted her, demanded of the children whether they loved + one another, whether they loved mamma, and whether they wanted a right + good whipping. At last, exasperated by her own inability to restore order, + she seized the baby, which had cried incessantly throughout, and, + declaring that it was doing it on purpose and should have something real + to cry for, gave it an exemplary smacking, and ordered the others to bed. + The boy, awed by the fate of his infant brother, offered, by way of + compromise, to be good if Miss Wylie would come and play with him, a + proposal which provoked from his jealous mother a box on the ear that sent + him howling to his cot. Then she left the room, pausing on the threshold + to remark that if she heard another sound from them that day, they might + expect the worst from her. On descending, heated and angry, to the + drawing-room, she found Agatha there alone, looking out of window as if + the landscape were especially unsatisfactory this time. + </p> + <p> + “Selfish little beasts!” exclaimed Jane, making a miniature whirlwind with + her skirts as she came in. “Charlie is a perfect little fiend. He spends + all his time thinking how he can annoy me. Ugh! He’s just like his + father.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my dear,” said Sir Charles from the doorway. + </p> + <p> + Jane laughed. “I knew you were there,” she said. “Where’s Gertrude?” + </p> + <p> + “She has gone out,” said Sir Charles. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! She has only just come in from driving with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what you mean by nonsense,” said Sir Charles, chafing. “I + saw her walking along the Riverside Road. I was in the village road, and + she did not see me. She seemed in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “I met her on the stairs and spoke to her,” said Agatha, “but she didn’t + hear me.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope she is not going to throw herself into the river,” said Jane. + Then, turning to her husband, she added: “Have you heard the news?” + </p> + <p> + “The only news I have heard is from this paper,” said Sir Charles, taking + out a journal and flinging it on the table. “There is a paragraph in it + stating that I have joined some infernal Socialistic league, and I am told + that there is an article in the ‘Times’ on the spread of Socialism, in + which my name is mentioned. This is all due to Trefusis; and I think he + has played me a most dishonorable trick. I will tell him so, too, when + next I see him.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better be careful what you say of him before Agatha,” said Jane. + “Oh, you need not be alarmed, Agatha; I know all about it. He told us in + the library. We went out this morning—Gertrude and I—and when + we came back we found Mr. Trefusis and Agatha talking very lovingly to one + another on the conservatory steps, newly engaged.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Sir Charles, disconcerted and displeased, but trying to + smile. “I may then congratulate you, Miss Wylie?” + </p> + <p> + “You need not,” said Agatha, keeping her countenance as well as she could. + “It was only a joke. At least it came about in a jest. He has no right to + say that we are engaged.” + </p> + <p> + “Stuff and nonsense,” said Jane. “That won’t do, Agatha. He has gone off + to telegraph to his solicitor. He is quite in earnest.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a great fool,” said Agatha, sitting down and twisting her hands + perplexedly. “I believe I said something; but I really did not intend to. + He surprised me into speaking before I knew what I was saying. A pretty + mess I have got myself into!” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you have been outwitted at last,” said Jane, laughing + spitefully. “You never had any pity for me when I could not think of the + proper thing to say at a moment’s notice.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha let the taunt pass unheeded. Her gaze wandered anxiously, and at + last settled appealingly upon Sir Charles. “What shall I do?” she said to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Miss Wylie,” he said gravely, “if you did not mean to marry him you + should not have promised. I don’t wish to be unsympathetic, and I know + that it is very hard to get rid of Trefusis when he makes up his mind to + act something out of you, but still—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind her,” said Jane, interrupting him. “She wants to marry him + just as badly as he wants to marry her. You would be preciously + disappointed if he cried off, Agatha; for all your interesting + reluctance.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not so, really,” said Agatha earnestly. “I wish I had taken time + to think about it. I suppose he has told everybody by this time.” + </p> + <p> + “May we then regard it as settled?” said Sir Charles. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you may,” said Jane contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Pray allow Miss Wylie to speak for herself, Jane. I confess I do not + understand why you are still in doubt—if you have really engaged + yourself to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I am in for it,” said Agatha. “I feel as if there were some + fatal objection, if I could only remember what it is. I wish I had never + seen him.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles was puzzled. “I do not understand ladies’ ways in these + matters,” he said. “However, as there seems to be no doubt that you and + Trefusis are engaged, I shall of course say nothing that would make it + unpleasant for him to visit here; but I must say that he has—to say + the least—been inconsiderate to me personally. I signed a paper at + his house on the implicit understanding that it was strictly private, and + now he has trumpeted it forth to the whole world, and publicly associated + my name not only with his own, but with those of persons of whom I know + nothing except that I would rather not be connected with them in any way.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter?” said Jane. “Nobody cares twopence.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> care,” said Sir Charles angrily. “No sensible person can accuse + me of exaggerating my own importance because I value my reputation + sufficiently to object to my approval being publicly cited in support of a + cause with which I have no sympathy.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Mr. Trefusis has had nothing to do with it,” said Agatha. “The + papers publish whatever they please, don’t they?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s right, Agatha,” said Jane maliciously. “Don’t let anyone speak ill + of him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not speaking ill of him,” said Sir Charles, before Agatha could + retort. “It is a mere matter of feeling, and I should not have mentioned + it had I known the altered relations between him and Miss Wylie.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray don’t speak of them,” said Agatha. “I have a mind to run away by the + next train.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles, to change the subject, suggested a duet. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Erskine, returning through the village from his morning ride, + had met Trefusis, and attempted to pass him with a nod. But Trefusis + called to him to stop, and he dismounted reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “Just a word to say that I am going to be married,” said Trefusis. + </p> + <p> + “To—?” Erskine could not add Gertrude’s name. + </p> + <p> + “To one of our friends at the Beeches. Guess to which.” + </p> + <p> + “To Miss Lindsay, I presume.” + </p> + <p> + “What in the fiend’s name has put it into all your heads that Miss Lindsay + and I are particularly attached to one another?” exclaimed Trefusis. “YOU + have always appeared to me to be the man for Miss Lindsay. I am going to + marry Miss Wylie.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” exclaimed Erskine, with a sensation of suddenly thawing after a + bitter frost. + </p> + <p> + “Of course. And now, Erskine, you have the advantage of being a poor man. + Do not let that splendid girl marry for money. If you go further you are + likely to fare worse; and so is she.” Then he nodded and walked away, + leaving the other staring after him. + </p> + <p> + “If he has jilted her, he is a scoundrel,” said Erskine. “I am sorry I + didn’t tell him so.” + </p> + <p> + He mounted and rode slowly along the Riverside Road, partly suspecting + Trefusis of some mystification, but inclining to believe in him, and, in + any case, to take his advice as to Gertrude. The conversation he had + overheard in the avenue still perplexed him. He could not reconcile it + with Trefusis’s profession of disinterestedness towards her. + </p> + <p> + His bicycle carried him noiselessly on its india-rubber tires to the place + by which the hemlock grew and there he saw Gertrude sitting on the low + earthen wall that separated the field from the road. Her straw bag, with + her scissors in it, lay beside her. Her fingers were interlaced, and her + hands rested, palms downwards, on her knee. Her expression was rather + vacant, and so little suggestive of any serious emotion that Erskine + laughed as he alighted close to her. + </p> + <p> + “Are you tired?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied, not startled, and smiling mechanically—an unusual + condescension on her part. + </p> + <p> + “Indulging in a day-dream?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” She moved a little to one side and concealed the basket with her + dress. + </p> + <p> + He began to fear that something was wrong. “Is it possible that you have + ventured among those poisonous plants again?” he said. “Are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” she replied, rousing herself a little. “Your solicitude is + quite thrown away. I am perfectly well.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he said, snubbed. “I thought—Don’t you think it + dangerous to sit on that damp wall?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not damp. It is crumbling into dust with dryness.” An unnatural + laugh, with which she concluded, intensified his uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + He began a sentence, stopped, and to gain time to recover himself, placed + his bicycle in the opposite ditch; a proceeding which she witnessed with + impatience, as it indicated his intention to stay and talk. She, however, + was the first to speak; and she did so with a callousness that shocked + him. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news?” + </p> + <p> + “What news?” + </p> + <p> + “About Mr. Trefusis and Agatha. They are engaged.” + </p> + <p> + “So Trefusis told me. I met him just now in the village. I was very glad + to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “But I had a special reason for being glad.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” + </p> + <p> + “I was desperately afraid, before he told me the truth, that he had other + views—views that might have proved fatal to my dearest hopes.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude frowned at him, and the frown roused him to brave her. He lost + his self-command, already shaken by her strange behavior. “You know that I + love you, Miss Lindsay,” he said. “It may not be a perfect love, but, + humanly speaking, it is a true one. I almost told you so that day when we + were in the billiard room together; and I did a very dishonorable thing + the same evening. When you were speaking to Trefusis in the avenue I was + close to you, and I listened.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you heard him,” cried Gertrude vehemently. “You heard him swear that + he was in earnest.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Erskine, trembling, “and I thought he meant in earnest in + loving you. You can hardly blame me for that: I was in love myself; and + love is blind and jealous. I never hoped again until he told me that he + was to be married to Miss Wylie. May I speak to you, now that I know I was + mistaken, or that you have changed your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Or that he has changed his mind,” said Gertrude scornfully. + </p> + <p> + Erskine, with a new anxiety for her sake, checked himself. Her dignity was + dear to him, and he saw that her disappointment had made her reckless of + it. “Do not say anything to me now, Miss Lindsay, lest—” + </p> + <p> + “What have I said? What have I to say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, except on my own affairs. I love you dearly.” + </p> + <p> + She made an impatient movement, as if that were a very insignificant + matter. + </p> + <p> + “You believe me, I hope,” he said, timidly. + </p> + <p> + Gertrude made an effort to recover her habitual ladylike reserve, but her + energy failed before she had done more than raise her head. She relapsed + into her listless attitude, and made a faint gesture of intolerance. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot be quite indifferent to being loved,” he said, becoming more + nervous and more urgent. “Your existence constitutes all my happiness. I + offer you my services and devotion. I do not ask any reward.” (He was now + speaking very quickly and almost inaudibly.) “You may accept my love + without returning it. I do not want—seek to make a bargain. If you + need a friend you may be able to rely on me more confidently because you + know I love you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you think so,” said Gertrude, interrupting him; “but you will get + over it. I am not the sort of person that men fall in love with. You will + soon change your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the sort! Oh, how little you know!” he said, becoming eloquent. “I + have had plenty of time to change, but I am as fixed as ever. If you + doubt, wait and try me. But do not be rough with me. You pain me more than + you can imagine when you are hasty or indifferent. I am in earnest.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! That is easily said.” + </p> + <p> + “Not by me. I change in my judgment of other people according to my humor, + but I believe steadfastly in your goodness and beauty—as if you were + an angel. I am in earnest in my love for you as I am in earnest for my own + life, which can only be perfected by your aid and influence.” + </p> + <p> + “You are greatly mistaken if you suppose that I am an angel.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong to mistrust yourself; but it is what I owe to you and not + what I expect from you that I try to express by speaking of you as an + angel. I know that you are not an angel to yourself. But you are to me.” + </p> + <p> + She sat stubbornly silent. + </p> + <p> + “I will not press you for an answer now. I am content that you know my + mind at last. Shall we return together?” + </p> + <p> + She looked round slowly at the hemlock, and from that to the river. Then + she took up her basket, rose, and prepared to go, as if under compulsion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want any more hemlock?” he said. “If so, I will pluck some for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would let me alone,” she said, with sudden anger. She added, a + little ashamed of herself, “I have a headache.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” he said, crestfallen. + </p> + <p> + “It is only that I do not wish to be spoken to. It hurts my head to + listen.” + </p> + <p> + He meekly took his bicycle from the ditch and wheeled it along beside her + to the Beeches without another word. They went in through the + conservatory, and parted in the dining-room. Before leaving him she said + with some remorse, “I did not mean to be rude, Mr. Erskine.” + </p> + <p> + He flushed, murmured something, and attempted to kiss her hand. But she + snatched it away and went out quickly. He was stung by this repulse, and + stood mortifying himself by thinking of it until he was disturbed by the + entrance of a maid-servant. Learning from her that Sir Charles was in the + billiard room, he joined him there, and asked him carelessly if he had + heard the news. + </p> + <p> + “About Miss Wylie?” said Sir Charles. “Yes, I should think so. I believe + the whole country knows it, though they have not been engaged three hours. + Have you seen these?” And he pushed a couple of newspapers across the + table. + </p> + <p> + Erskine had to make several efforts before he could read. “You were a fool + to sign that document,” he said. “I told you so at the time.” + </p> + <p> + “I relied on the fellow being a gentleman,” said Sir Charles warmly. “I do + not see that I was a fool. I see that he is a cad, and but for this + business of Miss Wylie’s I would let him know my opinion. Let me tell you, + Chester, that he has played fast and loose with Miss Lindsay. There is a + deuce of a row upstairs. She has just told Jane that she must go home at + once; Miss Wylie declares that she will have nothing to do with Trefusis + if Miss Lindsay has a prior claim to him, and Jane is annoyed at his + admiring anybody except herself. It serves me right; my instinct warned me + against the fellow from the first.” Just then luncheon was announced. + Gertrude did not come down. Agatha was silent and moody. Jane tried to + make Erskine describe his walk with Gertrude, but he baffled her curiosity + by omitting from his account everything except its commonplaces. + </p> + <p> + “I think her conduct very strange,” said Jane. “She insists on going to + town by the four o’clock train. I consider that it’s not polite to me, + although she always made a point of her perfect manners. I never heard of + such a thing!” + </p> + <p> + When they had risen from the table, they went together to the + drawing-room. They had hardly arrived there when Trefusis was announced, + and he was in their presence before they had time to conceal the + expression of consternation his name brought into their faces. + </p> + <p> + “I have come to say good-bye,” he said. “I find that I must go to town by + the four o’clock train to push my arrangements in person; the telegrams I + have received breathe nothing but delay. Have you seen the ‘Times’?” + </p> + <p> + “I have indeed,” said Sir Charles, emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “You are in some other paper too, and will be in half-a-dozen more in the + course of the next fortnight. Men who have committed themselves to an + opinion are always in trouble with the newspapers; some because they + cannot get into them, others because they cannot keep out. If you had put + forward a thundering revolutionary manifesto, not a daily paper would have + dared allude to it: there is no cowardice like Fleet Street cowardice! I + must run off; I have much to do before I start, and it is getting on for + three. Good-bye, Lady Brandon, and everybody.” + </p> + <p> + He shook Jane’s hand, dealt nods to the rest rapidly, making no + distinction in favor of Agatha, and hurried away. They stared after him + for a moment and then Erskine ran out and went downstairs two steps at a + time. Nevertheless he had to run as far as the avenue before he overtook + his man. + </p> + <p> + “Trefusis,” he said breathlessly, “you must not go by the four o’clock + train.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lindsay is going to town by it.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better, my dear boy; so much the better. You are not jealous + of me now, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Trefusis. I don’t know and I don’t ask what there has been + between you and Miss Lindsay, but your engagement has quite upset her, and + she is running away to London in consequence. If she hears that you are + going by the same train she will wait until to-morrow, and I believe the + delay would be very disagreeable. Will you inflict that additional pain + upon her?” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis, evidently concerned, looking doubtfully at Erskine, and pondered + for a moment. “I think you are on a wrong scent about this,” he said. “My + relations with Miss Lindsay were not of a sentimental kind. Have you said + anything to her—on your own account, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I have spoken to her on both accounts, and I know from her own lips that + I am right.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis uttered a low whistle. + </p> + <p> + “It is not the first time I have had the evidence of my senses in the + matter,” said Erskine significantly. “Pray think of it seriously, + Trefusis. Forgive my telling you frankly that nothing but your own utter + want of feeling could excuse you for the way in which you have acted + towards her.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis smiled. “Forgive me in turn for my inquisitiveness,” he said. + “What does she say to your suit?” + </p> + <p> + Erskine hesitated, showing by his manner that he thought Trefusis had no + right to ask the question. “She says nothing,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Hm!” said Trefusis. “Well, you may rely on me as to the train. There is + my hand upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Erskine fervently. They shook hands and parted, Trefusis + walking away with a grin suggestive of anything but good faith. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + Gertrude, unaware of the extent to which she had already betrayed her + disappointment, believed that anxiety for her father’s health, which she + alleged as the motive of her sudden departure, was an excuse plausible + enough to blind her friends to her overpowering reluctance to speak to + Agatha or endure her presence; to her fierce shrinking from the sort of + pity usually accorded to a jilted woman; and, above all, to her dread of + meeting Trefusis. She had for some time past thought of him as an upright + and perfect man deeply interested in her. Yet, comparatively liberal as + her education had been, she had no idea of any interest of man in woman + existing apart from a desire to marry. He had, in his serious moments, + striven to make her sensible of the baseness he saw in her worldliness, + flattering her by his apparent conviction—which she shared—that + she was capable of a higher life. Almost in the same breath, a strain of + gallantry which was incorrigible in him, and to which his humor and his + tenderness to women whom he liked gave variety and charm, would supervene + upon his seriousness with a rapidity which her far less flexible + temperament could not follow. Hence she, thinking him still in earnest + when he had swerved into florid romance, had been dangerously misled. He + had no conscientious scruples in his love-making, because he was + unaccustomed to consider himself as likely to inspire love in women; and + Gertrude did not know that her beauty gave to an hour spent alone with her + a transient charm which few men of imagination and address could resist. + She, who had lived in the marriage market since she had left school, + looked upon love-making as the most serious business of life. To him it + was only a pleasant sort of trifling, enhanced by a dash of sadness in the + reflection that it meant so little. + </p> + <p> + Of the ceremonies attending her departure, the one that cost her most was + the kiss she felt bound to offer Agatha. She had been jealous of her at + college, where she had esteemed herself the better bred of the two; but + that opinion had hardly consoled her for Agatha’s superior quickness of + wit, dexterity of hand, audacity, aptness of resource, capacity for + forming or following intricate associations of ideas, and consequent power + to dazzle others. Her jealousy of these qualities was now barbed by the + knowledge that they were much nearer akin than her own to those of + Trefusis. It mattered little to her how she appeared to herself in + comparison with Agatha. But it mattered the whole world (she thought) that + she must appear to Trefusis so slow, stiff, cold, and studied, and that + she had no means to make him understand that she was not really so. For + she would not admit the justice of impressions made by what she did not + intend to do, however habitually she did it. She had a theory that she was + not herself, but what she would have liked to be. As to the one quality in + which she had always felt superior to Agatha, and which she called “good + breeding,” Trefusis had so far destroyed her conceit in that, that she was + beginning to doubt whether it was not her cardinal defect. + </p> + <p> + She could not bring herself to utter a word as she embraced her + schoolfellow; and Agatha was tongue-tied too. But there was much + remorseful tenderness in the feelings that choked them. Their silence + would have been awkward but for the loquacity of Jane, who talked enough + for all three. Sir Charles was without, in the trap, waiting to drive + Gertrude to the station. Erskine intercepted her in the hall as she passed + out, told her that he should be desolate when she was gone, and begged her + to remember him, a simple petition which moved her a little, and caused + her to note that his dark eyes had a pleading eloquence which she had + observed before in the kangaroos at the Zoological Society’s gardens. + </p> + <p> + On the way to the train Sir Charles worried the horse in order to be + excused from conversation on the sore subject of his guest’s sudden + departure. He had made a few remarks on the skittishness of young ponies, + and on the weather, and that was all until they reached the station, a + pretty building standing in the open country, with a view of the river + from the platform. There were two flies waiting, two porters, a bookstall, + and a refreshment room with a neglected beauty pining behind the bar. Sir + Charles waited in the booking office to purchase a ticket for Gertrude, + who went through to the platform. The first person she saw there was + Trefusis, close beside her. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to town by this train, Gertrude,” he said quickly. “Let me + take charge of you. I have something to say, for I hear that some mischief + has been made between us which must be stopped at once. You—” + </p> + <p> + Just then Sir Charles came out, and stood amazed to see them in + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “It happens that I am going by this train,” said Trefusis. “I will see + after Miss Lindsay.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lindsay has her maid with her,” said Sir Charles, almost stammering, + and looking at Gertrude, whose expression was inscrutable. + </p> + <p> + “We can get into the Pullman car,” said Trefusis. “There we shall be as + private as in a corner of a crowded drawing-room. I may travel with you, + may I not?” he said, seeing Sir Charles’s disturbed look, and turning to + her for express permission. + </p> + <p> + She felt that to deny him would be to throw away her last chance of + happiness. Nevertheless she resolved to do it, though she should die of + grief on the way to London. As she raised her head to forbid him the more + emphatically, she met his gaze, which was grave and expectant. For an + instant she lost her presence of mind, and in that instant said, “Yes. I + shall be very glad.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if that is the case,” said Sir Charles, in the tone of one whose + sympathy had been alienated by an unpardonable outrage, “there can be no + use in my waiting. I leave you in the hands of Mr. Trefusis. Good-bye, + Miss Lindsay.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude winced. Unkindness from a man usually kind proved hard to bear at + parting. She was offering him her hand in silence when Trefusis said: + </p> + <p> + “Wait and see us off. If we chance to be killed on the journey—which + is always probable on an English railway—you will reproach yourself + afterwards if you do not see the last of us. Here is the train; it will + not delay you a minute. Tell Erskine that you saw me here; that I have not + forgotten my promise, and that he may rely on me. Get in at this end, Miss + Lindsay.” + </p> + <p> + “My maid,” said Gertrude hesitating; for she had not intended to travel so + expensively. “She—” + </p> + <p> + “She comes with us to take care of me; I have tickets for everybody,” said + Trefusis, handing the woman in. + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Take your seats, please,” said the guard. “Going by the train, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Sir Charles. Give my love to Lady Brandon, and Agatha, and the + dear children; and thanks so much for a very pleasant—” Here the + train moved off, and Sir Charles, melting, smiled and waved his hat until + he caught sight of Trefusis looking back at him with a grin which seemed, + under the circumstances, so Satanic, that he stopped as if petrified in + the midst of his gesticulations, and stood with his arm out like a + semaphore. + </p> + <p> + The drive home restored him somewhat, but he was still full of his + surprise when he rejoined Agatha, his wife, and Erskine in the + drawing-room at the Beeches. The moment he entered, he said without + preface, “She has gone off with Trefusis.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine, who had been reading, started up, clutching his book as if about + to hurl it at someone, and cried, “Was he at the train?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and has gone to town by it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Erskine, flinging the book violently on the floor, “he is a + scoundrel and a liar.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” said Agatha rising, whilst Jane stared open-mouthed + at him. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Miss Wylie, I forgot you. He pledged me his honor that + he would not go by that train. I will.” He hurried from the room. Sir + Charles rushed after him, and overtook him at the foot of the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going? What do you want to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I will follow the train and catch it at the next station. I can do it on + my bicycle.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! you’re mad. They have thirty-five minutes start; and the train + travels forty-five miles an hour.” + </p> + <p> + Erskine sat down on the stairs and gazed blankly at the opposite wall. + </p> + <p> + “You must have mistaken him,” said Sir Charles. “He told me to tell you + that he had not forgotten his promise, and that you may rely on him.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” said Agatha, coming down, followed by Lady Brandon. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wylie,” said Erskine, springing up, “he gave me his word that he + would not go by that train when I told him Miss Lindsay was going by it. + He has broken his word and seized the opportunity I was mad and credulous + enough to tell him of. If I had been in your place, Brandon, I would have + strangled him or thrown him under the wheels sooner than let him go. He + has shown himself in this as in everything else, a cheat, a conspirator, a + man of crooked ways, shifts, tricks, lying sophistries, heartless + selfishness, cruel cynicism—” He stopped to catch his breath, and + Sir Charles interposed a remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + “You are exciting yourself about nothing, Chester. They are in a Pullman, + with her maid and plenty of people; and she expressly gave him leave to go + with her. He asked her the question flatly before my face, and I must say + I thought it a strange thing for her to consent to. However, she did + consent, and of course I was not in a position to prevent him from going + to London if he pleased. Don’t let us have a scene, old man. It can’t be + helped.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” said Erskine, hanging his head. “I did not mean to make + a scene. I beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + He went away to his room without another word. Sir Charles followed and + attempted to console him, but Erskine caught his hand, and asked to be + left to himself. So Sir Charles returned to the drawing-room, where his + wife, at a loss for once, hardly ventured to remark that she had never + heard of such a thing in her life. + </p> + <p> + Agatha kept silence. She had long ago come unconsciously to the conclusion + that Trefusis and she were the only members of the party at the Beeches + who had much common-sense, and this made her slow to believe that he could + be in the wrong and Erskine in the right in any misunderstanding between + them. She had a slovenly way of summing up as “asses” people whose habits + of thought differed from hers. Of all varieties of man, the minor poet + realized her conception of the human ass most completely, and Erskine, + though a very nice fellow indeed, thoroughly good and gentlemanly, in her + opinion, was yet a minor poet, and therefore a pronounced ass. Trefusis, + on the contrary, was the last man of her acquaintance whom she would have + thought of as a very nice fellow or a virtuous gentleman; but he was not + an ass, although he was obstinate in his Socialistic fads. She had indeed + suspected him of weakness almost asinine with respect to Gertrude, but + then all men were asses in their dealings with women, and since he had + transferred his weakness to her own account it no longer seemed to need + justification. And now, as her concern for Erskine, whom she pitied, wore + off, she began to resent Trefusis’s journey with Gertrude as an attack on + her recently acquired monopoly of him. There was an air of aristocratic + pride about Gertrude which Agatha had formerly envied, and which she still + feared Trefusis might mistake for an index of dignity and refinement. + Agatha did not believe that her resentment was the common feeling called + jealousy, for she still deemed herself unique, but it gave her a sense of + meanness that did not improve her spirits. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was dull. Lady Brandon spoke in an undertone, as if someone lay + dead in the next room. Erskine was depressed by the consciousness of + having lost his head and acted foolishly in the afternoon. Sir Charles did + not pretend to ignore the suspense they were all in pending intelligence + of the journey to London; he ate and drank and said nothing. Agatha, + disgusted with herself and with Gertrude, and undecided whether to be + disgusted with Trefusis or to trust him affectionately, followed the + example of her host. After dinner she accompanied him in a series of songs + by Schubert. This proved an aggravation instead of a relief. Sir Charles, + excelling in the expression of melancholy, preferred songs of that + character; and as his musical ideas, like those of most Englishmen, were + founded on what he had heard in church in his childhood, his style was + oppressively monotonous. Agatha took the first excuse that presented + itself to leave the piano. Sir Charles felt that his performance had been + a failure, and remarked, after a cough or two, that he had caught a touch + of cold returning from the station. Erskine sat on a sofa with his head + drooping, and his palms joined and hanging downward between his knees. + Agatha stood at the window, looking at the late summer afterglow. Jane + yawned, and presently broke the silence. + </p> + <p> + “You look exactly as you used at school, Agatha. I could almost fancy us + back again in Number Six.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Do I ever look like that—like myself, as I used to be?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” said Agatha emphatically, turning and surveying the figure of + which Miss Carpenter had been the unripe antecedent. + </p> + <p> + “But why?” said Jane querulously. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I am not + so changed.” + </p> + <p> + “You have become an exceedingly fine woman, Jane,” said Agatha gravely, + and then, without knowing why, turned her attentive gaze upon Sir Charles, + who bore it uneasily, and left the room. A minute later he returned with + two buff envelopes in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “A telegram for you, Miss Wylie, and one for Chester.” Erskine started up, + white with vague fears. Agatha’s color went, and came again with increased + richness as she read: + </p> + <p> + “I have arrived safe and ridiculously happy. Read a thousand things + between the lines. I will write tomorrow. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “You may read it,” said Agatha, handing it to Jane. + </p> + <p> + “Very pretty,” said Jane. “A shilling’s worth of attention—exactly + twenty words! He may well call himself an economist.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a crowing laugh from Erskine caused them to turn and stare at + him. “What nonsense!” he said, blushing. “What a fellow he is! I don’t + attach the slightest importance to this.” + </p> + <p> + Agatha took a corner of his telegram and pulled it gently. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he said, holding it tightly. “It is too absurd. I don’t think I + ought—” + </p> + <p> + Agatha gave a decisive pull, and read the message aloud. It was from + Trefusis, thus: + </p> + <p> + “I forgive your thoughts since Brandon’s return. Write her to-night, and + follow your letter to receive an affirmative answer in person. I promised + that you might rely on me. She loves you.” + </p> + <p> + “I never heard of such a thing in my life,” said Jane. “Never!” + </p> + <p> + “He is certainly a most unaccountable man,” said Sir Charles. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad, for my own sake, that he is not so black as he is painted,” + said Agatha. “You may believe every word of it, Mr. Erskine. Be sure to do + as he tells you. He is quite certain to be right.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said Erskine, crumpling the telegram and thrusting it into his + pocket as if it were not worth a second thought. Presently he slipped + away, and did not reappear. When they were about to retire, Sir Charles + asked a servant where he was. + </p> + <p> + “In the library, Sir Charles; writing.” + </p> + <p> + They looked significantly at one another and went to bed without + disturbing him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + When Gertrude found herself beside Trefusis in the Pullman, she wondered + how she came to be travelling with him against her resolution, if not + against her will. In the presence of two women scrutinizing her as if they + suspected her of being there with no good purpose, a male passenger + admiring her a little further off, her maid reading Trefusis’s newspapers + just out of earshot, an uninterested country gentleman looking glumly out + of window, a city man preoccupied with the “Economist,” and a polite lady + who refrained from staring but not from observing, she felt that she must + not make a scene; yet she knew he had not come there to hold an ordinary + conversation. Her doubt did not last long. He began promptly, and went to + the point at once. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of this engagement of mine?” + </p> + <p> + This was more than she could bear calmly. “What is it to me?” she said + indignantly. “I have nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing! You are a cold friend to me then. I thought you one of the + surest I possessed.” + </p> + <p> + She moved as if about to look at him, but checked herself, closed her + lips, and fixed her eyes on the vacant seat before her. The reproach he + deserved was beyond her power of expression. + </p> + <p> + “I cling to that conviction still, in spite of Miss Lindsay’s indifference + to my affairs. But I confess I hardly know how to bring you into sympathy + with me in this matter. In the first place, you have never been married, I + have. In the next, you are much younger than I, in more respects than that + of years. Very likely half your ideas on the subject are derived from + fictions in which happy results are tacked on to conditions very + ill-calculated to produce them—which in real life hardly ever do + produce them. If our friendship were a chapter in a novel, what would be + the upshot of it? Why, I should marry you, or you break your heart at my + treachery.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude moved her eyes as if she had some intention of taking to flight. + </p> + <p> + “But our relations being those of real life—far sweeter, after all—I + never dreamed of marrying you, having gained and enjoyed your friendship + without that eye to business which our nineteenth century keeps open even + whilst it sleeps. You, being equally disinterested in your regard for me, + do not think of breaking your heart, but you are, I suppose, a little hurt + at my apparently meditating and resolving on such a serious step as + marriage with Agatha without confiding my intention to you. And you punish + me by telling me that you have nothing to do with it—that it is + nothing to you. But I never meditated the step, and so had nothing to + conceal from you. It was conceived and executed in less than a minute. + Although my first marriage was a silly love match and a failure, I have + always admitted to myself that I should marry again. A bachelor is a man + who shirks responsibilities and duties; I seek them, and consider it my + duty, with my monstrous superfluity of means, not to let the + individualists outbreed me. Still, I was in no hurry, having other things + to occupy me, and being fond of my bachelor freedom, and doubtful + sometimes whether I had any right to bring more idlers into the world for + the workers to feed. Then came the usual difficulty about the lady. I did + not want a helpmeet; I can help myself. Nor did I expect to be loved + devotedly, for the race has not yet evolved a man lovable on thorough + acquaintance; even my self-love is neither thorough nor constant. I wanted + a genial partner for domestic business, and Agatha struck me quite + suddenly as being the nearest approach to what I desired that I was likely + to find in the marriage market, where it is extremely hard to suit + oneself, and where the likeliest bargains are apt to be snapped up by + others if one hesitates too long in the hope of finding something better. + I admire Agatha’s courage and capability, and believe I shall be able to + make her like me, and that the attachment so begun may turn into as close + a union as is either healthy or necessary between two separate + individuals. I may mistake her character, for I do not know her as I know + you, and have scarcely enough faith in her as yet to tell her such things + as I have told you. Still, there is a consoling dash of romance in the + transaction. Agatha has charm. Do you not think so?” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude’s emotion was gone. She replied with cool scorn, “Very romantic + indeed. She is very fortunate.” + </p> + <p> + Trefusis half laughed, half sighed with relief to find her so + self-possessed. “It sounds like—and indeed is—the selfish + calculation of a disilluded widower. You would not value such an offer, or + envy the recipient of it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Gertrude with quiet contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Yet there is some calculation behind every such offer. We marry to + satisfy our needs, and the more reasonable our needs are, the more likely + are we to get them satisfied. I see you are disgusted with me; I feared as + much. You are the sort of woman to admit no excuse for my marriage except + love—pure emotional love, blindfolding reason.” + </p> + <p> + “I really do not concern myself—” + </p> + <p> + “Do not say so, Gertrude. I watch every step you take with anxiety; and I + do not believe you are indifferent to the worthiness of my conduct. + Believe me, love is an overrated passion; it would be irremediably + discredited but that young people, and the romancers who live upon their + follies, have a perpetual interest in rehabilitating it. No relation + involving divided duties and continual intercourse between two people can + subsist permanently on love alone. Yet love is not to be despised when it + comes from a fine nature. There is a man who loves you exactly as you + think I ought to love Agatha—and as I don’t love her.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude’s emotion stirred again, and her color rose. “You have no right + to say these things now,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why may I not plead the cause of another? I speak of Erskine.” Her color + vanished, and he continued, “I want you to marry him. When you are married + you will understand me better, and our friendship, shaken just now, will + be deepened; for I dare assure you, now that you can no longer + misunderstand me, that no living woman is dearer to me than you. So much + for the inevitable selfish reason. Erskine is a poor man, and in his + comfortable poverty—save the mark—lies your salvation from the + baseness of marrying for wealth and position; a baseness of which women of + your class stand in constant peril. They court it; you must shun it. The + man is honorable and loves you; he is young, healthy, and suitable. What + more do you think the world has to offer you?” + </p> + <p> + “Much more, I hope. Very much more.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear that the names I give things are not romantic enough. He is a + poet. Perhaps he would be a hero if it were possible for a man to be a + hero in this nineteenth century, which will be infamous in history as a + time when the greatest advances in the power of man over nature only + served to sharpen his greed and make famine its avowed minister. Erskine + is at least neither a gambler nor a slave-driver at first hand; if he + lives upon plundered labor he can no more help himself than I. Do not say + that you hope for much more; but tell me, if you can, what more you have + any chance of getting? Mind, I do not ask what more you desire; we all + desire unutterable things. I ask you what more you can obtain!” + </p> + <p> + “I have not found Mr. Erskine such a wonderful person as you seem to think + him.” + </p> + <p> + “He is only a man. Do you know anybody more wonderful?” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, my family might not approve.” + </p> + <p> + “They most certainly will not. If you wish to please them, you must sell + yourself to some rich vampire of the factories or great landlord. If you + give yourself away to a poor poet who loves you, their disgust will be + unbounded. If a woman wishes to honor her father and mother to their own + satisfaction nowadays she must dishonor herself.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand why you should be so anxious for me to marry someone + else?” + </p> + <p> + “Someone else?” said Trefusis, puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “I do not mean someone else,” said Gertrude hastily, reddening. “Why + should I marry at all?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do any of us marry? Why do I marry? It is a function craving + fulfilment. If you do not marry betimes from choice, you will be driven to + do so later on by the importunity of your suitors and of your family, and + by weariness of the suspense that precedes a definite settlement of + oneself. Marry generously. Do not throw yourself away or sell yourself; + give yourself away. Erskine has as much at stake as you; and yet he offers + himself fearlessly.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude raised her head proudly. + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” continued Trefusis, observing the gesture with some anger, + “that he thinks more highly of you than you deserve; but you, on the other + hand, think too lowly of him. When you marry him you must save him from a + cruel disenchantment by raising yourself to the level he fancies you have + attained. This will cost you an effort, and the effort will do you good, + whether it fail or succeed. As for him, he will find his just level in + your estimation if your thoughts reach high enough to comprehend him at + that level.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude moved impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “What!” he said quickly. “Are my long-winded sacrifices to the god of + reason distasteful? I believe I am involuntarily making them so because I + am jealous of the fellow after all. Nevertheless I am serious; I want you + to get married; though I shall always have a secret grudge against the man + who marries you. Agatha will suspect me of treason if you don’t. Erskine + will be a disappointed man if you don’t. You will be moody, wretched, and—and + unmarried if you don’t.” + </p> + <p> + Gertrude’s cheeks flushed at the word jealous, and again at his mention of + Agatha. “And if I do,” she said bitterly, “what then?” + </p> + <p> + “If you do, Agatha’s mind will be at ease, Erskine will be happy, and you! + You will have sacrificed yourself, and will have the happiness which + follows that when it is worthily done.” + </p> + <p> + “It is you who have sacrificed me,” she said, casting away her reticence, + and looking at him for the first time during the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” he said, leaning towards her and half whispering the words. + “Is not renunciation the beginning and the end of wisdom? I have + sacrificed you rather than profane our friendship by asking you to share + my whole life with me. You are unfit for that, and I have committed myself + to another union, and am begging you to follow my example, lest we should + tempt one another to a step which would soon prove to you how truly I tell + you that you are unfit. I have never allowed you to roam through all the + chambers of my consciousness, but I keep a sanctuary there for you alone, + and will keep it inviolate for you always. Not even Agatha shall have the + key, she must be content with the other rooms—the drawing-room, the + working-room, the dining-room, and so forth. They would not suit you; you + would not like the furniture or the guests; after a time you would not + like the master. Will you be content with the sanctuary?” Gertrude bit her + lip; tears came into her eyes. She looked imploringly at him. Had they + been alone, she would have thrown herself into his arms and entreated him + to disregard everything except their strong cleaving to one another. + </p> + <p> + “And will you keep a corner of your heart for me?” + </p> + <p> + She slowly gave him a painful look of acquiescence. “Will you be brave, + and sacrifice yourself to the poor man who loves you? He will save you + from useless solitude, or from a worldly marriage—I cannot bear to + think of either as your fate.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not care for Mr. Erskine,” she said, hardly able to control her + voice; “but I will marry him if you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “I do wish it earnestly, Gertrude.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, you have my promise,” she said, again with some bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “But you will not forget me? Erskine will have all but that—a tender + recollection—nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I do more than I have just promised?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so; but I am too selfish to be able to conceive anything more + generous. Our renunciation will bind us to one another as our union could + never have done.” + </p> + <p> + They exchanged a long look. Then he took out his watch, and began to speak + of the length of their journey, now nearly at an end. When they arrived in + London the first person they recognized on the platform was Mr. Jansenius. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you got my telegram, I see,” said Trefusis. “Many thanks for coming. + Wait for me whilst I put this lady into a cab.” + </p> + <p> + When the cab was engaged, and Gertrude, with her maid, stowed within, he + whispered to her hurriedly: + </p> + <p> + “In spite of all, I have a leaden pain here” (indicating his heart). “You + have been brave, and I have been wise. Do not speak to me, but remember + that we are friends always and deeply.” + </p> + <p> + He touched her hand, and turned to the cabman, directing him whither to + drive. Gertrude shrank back into a corner of the vehicle as it departed. + Then Trefusis, expanding his chest like a man just released from some + cramping drudgery, rejoined Mr. Jansenius. + </p> + <p> + “There goes a true woman,” he said. “I have been persuading her to take + the very best step open to her. I began by talking sense, like a man of + honor, and kept at it for half an hour, but she would not listen to me. + Then I talked romantic nonsense of the cheapest sort for five minutes, and + she consented with tears in her eyes. Let us take this hansom. Hi! Belsize + Avenue. Yes; you sometimes have to answer a woman according to her + womanishness, just as you have to answer a fool according to his folly. + Have you ever made up your mind, Jansenius, whether I am an unusually + honest man, or one of the worst products of the social organization I + spend all my energies in assailing—an infernal scoundrel, in short?” + </p> + <p> + “Now pray do not be absurd,” said Mr. Jansenius. “I wonder at a man of + your ability behaving and speaking as you sometimes do.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope a little insincerity, when meant to act as chloroform—to + save a woman from feeling a wound to her vanity—is excusable. + By-the-bye, I must send a couple of telegrams from the first post-office + we pass. Well, sir, I am going to marry Agatha, as I sent you word. There + was only one other single man and one other virgin down at Brandon + Beeches, and they are as good as engaged. And so— + </p> + <p> + “‘Jack shall have Jill, Nought shall go ill, The man shall have his mare + again; And all shall be well.’” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_APPE" id="link2H_APPE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + APPENDIX + </h2> + <p> + LETTER TO THE AUTHOR FROM MR. SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + </p> + <p> + My Dear Sir: I find that my friends are not quite satisfied with the + account you have given of them in your clever novel entitled “An Unsocial + Socialist.” You already understand that I consider it my duty to + communicate my whole history, without reserve, to whoever may desire to be + guided or warned by my experience, and that I have no sympathy whatever + with the spirit in which one of the ladies concerned recently told you + that her affairs were no business of yours or of the people who read your + books. When you asked my permission some years ago to make use of my + story, I at once said that you would be perfectly justified in giving it + the fullest publicity whether I consented or not, provided only that you + were careful not to falsify it for the sake of artistic effect. Now, + whilst cheerfully admitting that you have done your best to fulfil that + condition, I cannot help feeling that, in presenting the facts in the + guise of fiction, you have, in spite of yourself, shown them in a false + light. Actions described in novels are judged by a romantic system of + morals as fictitious as the actions themselves. The traditional parts of + this system are, as Cervantes tried to show, for the chief part, barbarous + and obsolete; the modern additions are largely due to the novel readers + and writers of our own century—most of them half-educated women, + rebelliously slavish, superstitious, sentimental, full of the intense + egotism fostered by their struggle for personal liberty, and, outside + their families, with absolutely no social sentiment except love. + Meanwhile, man, having fought and won his fight for this personal liberty, + only to find himself a more abject slave than before, is turning with + loathing from his egotist’s dream of independence to the collective + interests of society, with the welfare of which he now perceives his own + happiness to be inextricably bound up. But man in this phase (would that + all had reached it!) has not yet leisure to write or read novels. In + noveldom woman still sets the moral standard, and to her the males, who + are in full revolt against the acceptance of the infatuation of a pair of + lovers as the highest manifestation of the social instinct, and against + the restriction of the affections within the narrow circle of blood + relationship, and of the political sympathies within frontiers, are to her + what she calls heartless brutes. That is exactly what I have been called + by readers of your novel; and that, indeed, is exactly what I am, judged + by the fictitious and feminine standard of morality. Hence some critics + have been able plausibly to pretend to take the book as a satire on + Socialism. It may, for what I know, have been so intended by you. Whether + or no, I am sorry you made a novel of my story, for the effect has been + almost as if you had misrepresented me from beginning to end. + </p> + <p> + At the same time, I acknowledge that you have stated the facts, on the + whole, with scrupulous fairness. You have, indeed, flattered me very + strongly by representing me as constantly thinking of and for other + people, whereas the rest think of themselves alone, but on the other hand + you have contradictorily called me “unsocial,” which is certainly the last + adjective I should have expected to find in the neighborhood of my name. I + deny, it is true, that what is now called “society” is society in any real + sense, and my best wish for it is that it may dissolve too rapidly to make + it worth the while of those who are “not in society” to facilitate its + dissolution by violently pounding it into small pieces. But no reader of + “An Unsocial Socialist” needs to be told how, by the exercise of a certain + considerate tact (which on the outside, perhaps, seems the opposite of + tact), I have contrived to maintain genial terms with men and women of all + classes, even those whose opinions and political conduct seemed to me most + dangerous. + </p> + <p> + However, I do not here propose to go fully into my own position, lest I + should seem tedious, and be accused, not for the first time, of a + propensity to lecture—a reproach which comes naturally enough from + persons whose conceptions are never too wide to be expressed within the + limits of a sixpenny telegram. I shall confine myself to correcting a few + misapprehensions which have, I am told, arisen among readers who from + inveterate habit cannot bring the persons and events of a novel into any + relation with the actual conditions of life. + </p> + <p> + In the first place, then, I desire to say that Mrs. Erskine is not dead of + a broken heart. Erskine and I and our wives are very much in and out at + one another’s houses; and I am therefore in a position to declare that + Mrs. Erskine, having escaped by her marriage from the vile caste in which + she was relatively poor and artificially unhappy and ill-conditioned, is + now, as the pretty wife of an art-critic, relatively rich, as well as + pleasant, active, and in sound health. Her chief trouble, as far as I can + judge, is the impossibility of shaking off her distinguished relatives, + who furtively quit their abject splendor to drop in upon her for dinner + and a little genuine human society much oftener than is convenient to poor + Erskine. She has taken a patronizing fancy to her father, the Admiral, who + accepts her condescension gratefully as age brings more and more home to + him the futility of his social position. She has also, as might have been + expected, become an extreme advocate of socialism; and indeed, being in a + great hurry for the new order of things, looks on me as a lukewarm + disciple because I do not propose to interfere with the slowly grinding + mill of Evolution, and effect the change by one tremendous stroke from the + united and awakened people (for such she—vainly, alas!—believes + the proletariat already to be). As to my own marriage, some have asked + sarcastically whether I ran away again or not; others, whether it has been + a success. These are foolish questions. My marriage has turned out much as + I expected it would. I find that my wife’s views on the subject vary with + the circumstances under which they are expressed. + </p> + <p> + I have now to make one or two comments on the impressions conveyed by the + style of your narrative. Sufficient prominence has not, in my opinion, + been given to the extraordinary destiny of my father, the true hero of a + nineteenth century romance. I, who have seen society reluctantly accepting + works of genius for nothing from men of extraordinary gifts, and at the + same time helplessly paying my father millions, and submitting to + monstrous mortgages of its future production, for a few directions as to + the most business-like way of manufacturing and selling cotton, cannot but + wonder, as I prepare my income-tax returns, whether society was mad to + sacrifice thus to him and to me. He was the man with power to buy, to + build, to choose, to endow, to sit on committees and adjudicate upon + designs, to make his own terms for placing anything on a sound business + footing. He was hated, envied, sneered at for his low origin, reproached + for his ignorance, yet nothing would pay unless he liked or pretended to + like it. I look round at our buildings, our statues, our pictures, our + newspapers, our domestic interiors, our books, our vehicles, our morals, + our manners, our statutes, and our religion, and I see his hand + everywhere, for they were all made or modified to please him. Those which + did not please him failed commercially: he would not buy them, or sell + them, or countenance them; and except through him, as “master of the + industrial situation,” nothing could be bought, or sold, or countenanced. + The landlord could do nothing with his acres except let them to him; the + capitalist’s hoard rotted and dwindled until it was lent to him; the + worker’s muscles and brain were impotent until sold to him. What king’s + son would not exchange with me—the son of the Great Employer—the + Merchant Prince? No wonder they proposed to imprison me for treason when, + by applying my inherited business talent, I put forward a plan for + securing his full services to society for a few hundred a year. But + pending the adoption of my plan, do not describe him contemptuously as a + vulgar tradesman. Industrial kingship, the only real kingship of our + century, was his by divine right of his turn for business; and I, his son, + bid you respect the crown whose revenues I inherit. If you don’t, my + friend, your book won’t pay. + </p> + <p> + I hear, with some surprise, that the kindness of my conduct to Henrietta + (my first wife, you recollect) has been called in question; why, I do not + exactly know. Undoubtedly I should not have married her, but it is waste + of time to criticise the judgment of a young man in love. Since I do not + approve of the usual plan of neglecting and avoiding a spouse without + ceasing to keep up appearances, I cannot for the life of me see what else + I could have done than vanish when I found out my mistake. It is but a + short-sighted policy to wait for the mending of matters that are bound to + get worse. The notion that her death was my fault is sheer unreason on the + face of it; and I need no exculpation on that score; but I must disclaim + the credit of having borne her death like a philosopher. I ought to have + done so, but the truth is that I was greatly affected at the moment, and + the proof of it is that I and Jansenius (the only other person who cared) + behaved in a most unbecoming fashion, as men invariably do when they are + really upset. Perfect propriety at a death is seldom achieved except by + the undertaker, who has the advantage of being free from emotion. + </p> + <p> + Your rigmarole (if you will excuse the word) about the tombstone gives + quite a wrong idea of my attitude on that occasion. I stayed away from the + funeral for reasons which are, I should think, sufficiently obvious and + natural, but which you somehow seem to have missed. Granted that my fancy + for Hetty was only a cloud of illusions, still I could not, within a few + days of her sudden death, go in cold blood to take part in a grotesque and + heathenish mummery over her coffin. I should have broken out and strangled + somebody. But on every other point I—weakly enough—sacrificed + my own feelings to those of Jansenius. I let him have his funeral, though + I object to funerals and to the practice of sepulture. I consented to a + monument, although there is, to me, no more bitterly ridiculous outcome of + human vanity than the blocks raised to tell posterity that John Smith, or + Jane Jackson, late of this parish, was born, lived, and died worth enough + money to pay a mason to distinguish their bones from those of the + unrecorded millions. To gratify Jansenius I waived this objection, and + only interfered to save him from being fleeced and fooled by an + unnecessary West End middleman, who, as likely as not, would have + eventually employed the very man to whom I gave the job. Even the epitaph + was not mine. If I had had my way I should have written: “HENRIETTA + JANSENIUS WAS BORN ON SUCH A DATE, MARRIED A MAN NAMED TREFUSIS, AND DIED + ON SUCH ANOTHER DATE; AND NOW WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHETHER SHE DID OR NOT?” + The whole notion conveyed in the book that I rode rough-shod over + everybody in the affair, and only consulted my own feelings, is the very + reverse of the truth. + </p> + <p> + As to the tomfoolery down at Brandon’s, which ended in Erskine and myself + marrying the young lady visitors there, I can only congratulate you on the + determination with which you have striven to make something like a romance + out of such very thin material. I cannot say that I remember it all + exactly as you have described it; my wife declares flatly there is not a + word of truth in it as far as she is concerned, and Mrs. Erskine steadily + refuses to read the book. + </p> + <p> + On one point I must acknowledge that you have proved yourself a master of + the art of fiction. What Hetty and I said to one another that day when she + came upon me in the shrubbery at Alton College was known only to us two. + She never told it to anyone, and I soon forgot it. All due honor, + therefore, to the ingenuity with which you have filled the hiatus, and + shown the state of affairs between us by a discourse on “surplus value,” + cribbed from an imperfect report of one of my public lectures, and from + the pages of Karl Marx! If you were an economist I should condemn you for + confusing economic with ethical considerations, and for your uncertainty + as to the function which my father got his start by performing. But as you + are only a novelist, I compliment you heartily on your clever little + pasticcio, adding, however, that as an account of what actually passed + between myself and Hetty, it is the wildest romance ever penned. Wickens’s + boy was far nearer the mark. + </p> + <p> + In conclusion, allow me to express my regret that you can find no better + employment for your talent than the writing of novels. The first literary + result of the foundation of our industrial system upon the profits of + piracy and slave-trading was Shakspere. It is our misfortune that the + sordid misery and hopeless horror of his view of man’s destiny is still so + appropriate to English society that we even to-day regard him as not for + an age, but for all time. But the poetry of despair will not outlive + despair itself. Your nineteenth century novelists are only the tail of + Shakspere. Don’t tie yourself to it: it is fast wriggling into oblivion. + </p> + <p> + I am, dear sir, yours truly, + </p> + <p> + SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s An Unsocial Socialist, by George Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST *** + +***** This file should be named 1654-h.htm or 1654-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/1654/ + +Produced by Dianne Bean and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An Unsocial Socialist + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1654] +[Last updated: June 14, 2012] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST *** + + + + +Produced by Dianne Bean and David Widger + + + + + +AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST + + +by George Bernard Shaw + + + + +CHAPTER I + +In the dusk of an October evening, a sensible looking woman of forty +came out through an oaken door to a broad landing on the first floor of +an old English country-house. A braid of her hair had fallen forward as +if she had been stooping over book or pen; and she stood for a moment +to smooth it, and to gaze contemplatively--not in the least +sentimentally--through the tall, narrow window. The sun was setting, but +its glories were at the other side of the house; for this window +looked eastward, where the landscape of sheepwalks and pasture land was +sobering at the approach of darkness. + +The lady, like one to whom silence and quiet were luxuries, lingered +on the landing for some time. Then she turned towards another door, on +which was inscribed, in white letters, Class Room No. 6. Arrested by a +whispering above, she paused in the doorway, and looked up the stairs +along a broad smooth handrail that swept round in an unbroken curve at +each landing, forming an inclined plane from the top to the bottom of +the house. + +A young voice, apparently mimicking someone, now came from above, +saying, + +"We will take the Etudes de la Velocite next, if you please, ladies." + +Immediately a girl in a holland dress shot down through space; whirled +round the curve with a fearless centrifugal toss of her ankle; and +vanished into the darkness beneath. She was followed by a stately girl +in green, intently holding her breath as she flew; and also by a large +young woman in black, with her lower lip grasped between her teeth, and +her fine brown eyes protruding with excitement. Her passage created a +miniature tempest which disarranged anew the hair of the lady on the +landing, who waited in breathless alarm until two light shocks and a +thump announced that the aerial voyagers had landed safely in the hall. + +"Oh law!" exclaimed the voice that had spoken before. "Here's Susan." + +"It's a mercy your neck ain't broken," replied some palpitating female. +"I'll tell of you this time, Miss Wylie; indeed I will. And you, too, +Miss Carpenter: I wonder at you not to have more sense at your age and +with your size! Miss Wilson can't help hearing when you come down with a +thump like that. You shake the whole house." + +"Oh bother!" said Miss Wylie. "The Lady Abbess takes good care to shut +out all the noise we make. Let us--" + +"Girls," said the lady above, calling down quietly, but with ominous +distinctness. + +Silence and utter confusion ensued. Then came a reply, in a tone of +honeyed sweetness, from Miss Wylie: + +"Did you call us, DEAR Miss Wilson?" + +"Yes. Come up here, if you please, all three." + +There was some hesitation among them, each offering the other +precedence. At last they went up slowly, in the order, though not at all +in the manner, of their flying descent; followed Miss Wilson into the +class-room; and stood in a row before her, illumined through three +western windows with a glow of ruddy orange light. Miss Carpenter, the +largest of the three, was red and confused. Her arms hung by her sides, +her fingers twisting the folds of her dress. Miss Gertrude Lindsay, in +pale sea-green, had a small head, delicate complexion, and pearly teeth. +She stood erect, with an expression of cold distaste for reproof of any +sort. The holland dress of the third offender had changed from yellow to +white as she passed from the gray eastern twilight on the staircase into +the warm western glow in the room. Her face had a bright olive tone, and +seemed to have a golden mica in its composition. Her eyes and hair were +hazel-nut color; and her teeth, the upper row of which she displayed +freely, were like fine Portland stone, and sloped outward enough to have +spoilt her mouth, had they not been supported by a rich under lip, and +a finely curved, impudent chin. Her half cajoling, half mocking air, +and her ready smile, were difficult to confront with severity; and Miss +Wilson knew it; for she would not look at her even when attracted by +a convulsive start and an angry side glance from Miss Lindsay, who had +just been indented between the ribs by a finger tip. + +"You are aware that you have broken the rules," said Miss Wilson +quietly. + +"We didn't intend to. We really did not," said the girl in holland, +coaxingly. + +"Pray what was your intention then, Miss Wylie?" + +Miss Wylie unexpectedly treated this as a smart repartee instead of a +rebuke. She sent up a strange little scream, which exploded in a cascade +of laughter. + +"Pray be silent, Agatha," said Miss Wilson severely. Agatha looked +contrite. Miss Wilson turned hastily to the eldest of the three, and +continued: + +"I am especially surprised at you, Miss Carpenter. Since you have no +desire to keep faith with me by upholding the rules, of which you are +quite old enough to understand the necessity, I shall not trouble you +with reproaches, or appeals to which I am now convinced that you would +not respond," (here Miss Carpenter, with an inarticulate protest, burst +into tears); "but you should at least think of the danger into which +your juniors are led by your childishness. How should you feel if Agatha +had broken her neck?" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Agatha, putting her hand quickly to her neck. + +"I didn't think there was any danger," said Miss Carpenter, struggling +with her tears. "Agatha has done it so oft--oh dear! you have torn me." +Miss Wylie had pulled at her schoolfellow's skirt, and pulled too hard. + +"Miss Wylie," said Miss Wilson, flushing slightly, "I must ask you to +leave the room." + +"Oh, no," exclaimed Agatha, clasping her hands in distress. "Please +don't, dear Miss Wilson. I am so sorry. I beg your pardon." + +"Since you will not do what I ask, I must go myself," said Miss Wilson +sternly. "Come with me to my study," she added to the two other +girls. "If you attempt to follow, Miss Wylie, I shall regard it as an +intrusion." + +"But I will go away if you wish it. I didn't mean to diso--" + +"I shall not trouble you now. Come, girls." + +The three went out; and Miss Wylie, left behind in disgrace, made a +surpassing grimace at Miss Lindsay, who glanced back at her. When she +was alone, her vivacity subsided. She went slowly to the window, and +gazed disparagingly at the landscape. Once, when a sound of voices above +reached her, her eyes brightened, and her ready lip moved; but the +next silent moment she relapsed into moody indifference, which was not +relieved until her two companions, looking very serious, re-entered. + +"Well," she said gaily, "has moral force been applied? Are you going to +the Recording Angel?" + +"Hush, Agatha," said Miss Carpenter. "You ought to be ashamed of +yourself." + +"No, but you ought, you goose. A nice row you have got me into!" + +"It was your own fault. You tore my dress." + +"Yes, when you were blurting out that I sometimes slide down the +banisters." + +"Oh!" said Miss Carpenter slowly, as if this reason had not occurred to +her before. "Was that why you pulled me?" + +"Dear me! It has actually dawned upon you. You are a most awfully silly +girl, Jane. What did the Lady Abbess say?" + +Miss Carpenter again gave her tears way, and could not reply. + +"She is disgusted with us, and no wonder," said Miss Lindsay. + +"She said it was all your fault," sobbed Miss Carpenter. + +"Well, never mind, dear," said Agatha soothingly. "Put it in the +Recording Angel." + +"I won't write a word in the Recording Angel unless you do so first," +said Miss Lindsay angrily. "You are more in fault than we are." + +"Certainly, my dear," replied Agatha. "A whole page, if you wish." + +"I b-believe you LIKE writing in the Recording Angel," said Miss +Carpenter spitefully. + +"Yes, Jane. It is the best fun the place affords." + +"It may be fun to you," said Miss Lindsay sharply; "but it is not very +creditable to me, as Miss Wilson said just now, to take a prize in moral +science and then have to write down that I don't know how to behave +myself. Besides, I do not like to be told that I am ill-bred!" + +Agatha laughed. "What a deep old thing she is! She knows all our +weaknesses, and stabs at us through them. Catch her telling me, or Jane +there, that we are ill-bred!" + +"I don't understand you," said Miss Lindsay, haughtily. + +"Of course not. That's because you don't know as much moral science as +I, though I never took a prize in it." + +"You never took a prize in anything," said Miss Carpenter. + +"And I hope I never shall," said Agatha. "I would as soon scramble for +hot pennies in the snow, like the street boys, as scramble to see who +can answer most questions. Dr. Watts is enough moral science for me. Now +for the Recording Angel." + +She went to a shelf and took down a heavy quarto, bound in black +leather, and inscribed, in red letters, MY FAULTS. This she threw +irreverently on a desk, and tossed its pages over until she came to one +only partly covered with manuscript confessions. + +"For a wonder," she said, "here are two entries that are not mine. Sarah +Gerram! What has she been confessing?" + +"Don't read it," said Miss Lindsay quickly. "You know that it is the +most dishonorable thing any of us can do." + +"Poch! Our little sins are not worth making such a fuss about. I always +like to have my entries read: it makes me feel like an author; and so in +Christian duty I always read other people's. Listen to poor Sarah's tale +of guilt. '1st October. I am very sorry that I slapped Miss Chambers in +the lavatory this morning, and knocked out one of her teeth. This was +very wicked; but it was coming out by itself; and she has forgiven me +because a new one will come in its place; and she was only pretending +when she said she swallowed it. Sarah Gerram."' + +"Little fool!" said Miss Lindsay. "The idea of our having to record in +the same book with brats like that!" + +"Here is a touching revelation. '4th October. Helen Plantagenet is +deeply grieved to have to confess that I took the first place in algebra +yesterday unfairly. Miss Lindsay prompted me;' and--" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Miss Lindsay, reddening. "That is how she thanks me for +prompting her, is it? How dare she confess my faults in the Recording +Angel?" + +"Serves you right for prompting her," said Miss Carpenter. "She was +always a double-faced cat; and you ought to have known better." + +"Oh, I assure you it was not for her sake that I did it," replied Miss +Lindsay. "It was to prevent that Jackson girl from getting first place. +I don't like Helen Plantagenet; but at least she is a lady.' + +"Stuff, Gertrude," said Agatha, with a touch of earnestness. "One would +think, to hear you talk, that your grandmother was a cook. Don't be such +a snob." + +"Miss Wylie," said Gertrude, becoming scarlet: "you are very--oh! oh! +Stop Ag--oh! I will tell Miss--oh!" Agatha had inserted a steely finger +between her ribs, and was tickling her unendurably. + +"Sh-sh-sh," whispered Miss Carpenter anxiously. "The door is open." + +"Am I Miss Wylie?" demanded Agatha, relentlessly continuing the torture. +"Am I very--whatever you were going to say? Am I? am I? am I?" + +"No, no," gasped Gertrude, shrinking into a chair, almost in hysterics. +"You are very unkind, Agatha. You have hurt me." + +"You deserve it. If you ever get sulky with me again, or call me Miss +Wylie, I will kill you. I will tickle the soles of your feet with a +feather," (Miss Lindsay shuddered, and hid her feet beneath the chair) +"until your hair turns white. And now, if you are truly repentant, come +and record." + +"You must record first. It was all your fault." + +"But I am the youngest," said Agatha. + +"Well, then," said Gertrude, afraid to press the point, but determined +not to record first, "let Jane Carpenter begin. She is the eldest." + +"Oh, of course," said Jane, with whimpering irony. "Let Jane do all the +nasty things first. I think it's very hard. You fancy that Jane is a +fool; but she isn't." + +"You are certainly not such a fool as you look, Jane," said Agatha +gravely. "But I will record first, if you like." + +"No, you shan't," cried Jane, snatching the pen from her. "I am the +eldest; and I won't be put out of my place." + +She dipped the pen in the ink resolutely, and prepared to write. +Then she paused; considered; looked bewildered; and at last appealed +piteously to Agatha. + +"What shall I write?" she said. "You know how to write things down; and +I don't." + +"First put the date," said Agatha. + +"To be sure," said Jane, writing it quickly. "I forgot that. Well?" + +"Now write, 'I am very sorry that Miss Wilson saw me when I slid down +the banisters this evening. Jane Carpenter.'" + +"Is that all?" + +"That's all: unless you wish to add something of your own composition." + +"I hope it's all right," said Jane, looking suspiciously at Agatha. +"However, there can't be any harm in it; for it's the simple truth. +Anyhow, if you are playing one of your jokes on me, you are a nasty mean +thing, and I don't care. Now, Gertrude, it's your turn. Please look at +mine, and see whether the spelling is right." + +"It is not my business to teach you to spell," said Gertrude, taking the +pen. And, while Jane was murmuring at her churlishness, she wrote in a +bold hand: + +"I have broken the rules by sliding down the banisters to-day with Miss +Carpenter and Miss Wylie. Miss Wylie went first." + +"You wretch!" exclaimed Agatha, reading over her shoulder. "And your +father is an admiral!" + +"I think it is only fair," said Miss Lindsay, quailing, but assuming the +tone of a moralist. "It is perfectly true." + +"All my money was made in trade," said Agatha; "but I should be ashamed +to save myself by shifting blame to your aristocratic shoulders. You +pitiful thing! Here: give me the pen." + +"I will strike it out if you wish; but I think--" + +"No: it shall stay there to witness against you. Now see how I confess +my faults." And she wrote, in a fine, rapid hand: + +"This evening Gertrude Lindsay and Jane Carpenter met me at the top of +the stairs, and said they wanted to slide down the banisters and would +do it if I went first. I told them that it was against the rules, +but they said that did not matter; and as they are older than I am, I +allowed myself to be persuaded, and did." + +"What do you think of that?" said Agatha, displaying the page. + +They read it, and protested clamorously. + +"It is perfectly true," said Agatha, solemnly. + +"It's beastly mean," said Jane energetically. "The idea of your finding +fault with Gertrude, and then going and being twice as bad yourself! I +never heard of such a thing in my life." + +"'Thus bad begins; but worse remains behind,' as the Standard +Elocutionist says," said Agatha, adding another sentence to her +confession. + +"But it was all my fault. Also I was rude to Miss Wilson, and refused +to leave the room when she bade me. I was not wilfully wrong except in +sliding down the banisters. I am so fond of a slide that I could not +resist the temptation." + +"Be warned by me, Agatha," said Jane impressively. "If you write cheeky +things in that book, you will be expelled." + +"Indeed!" replied Agatha significantly. "Wait until Miss Wilson sees +what you have written." + +"Gertrude," cried Jane, with sudden misgiving, "has she made me write +anything improper? Agatha, do tell me if--" + +Here a gong sounded; and the three girls simultaneously exclaimed +"Grub!" and rushed from the room. + + + +CHAPTER II + +One sunny afternoon, a hansom drove at great speed along Belsize Avenue, +St. John's Wood, and stopped before a large mansion. A young lady sprang +out; ran up the steps, and rang the bell impatiently. She was of the +olive complexion, with a sharp profile: dark eyes with long lashes; +narrow mouth with delicately sensuous lips; small head, feet, and hands, +with long taper fingers; lithe and very slender figure moving with +serpent-like grace. Oriental taste was displayed in the colors of her +costume, which consisted of a white dress, close-fitting, and printed +with an elaborate china blue pattern; a yellow straw hat covered with +artificial hawthorn and scarlet berries; and tan-colored gloves reaching +beyond the elbow, and decorated with a profusion of gold bangles. + +The door not being opened immediately, she rang again, violently, and +was presently admitted by a maid, who seemed surprised to see her. +Without making any inquiry, she darted upstairs into a drawing-room, +where a matron of good presence, with features of the finest Jewish +type, sat reading. With her was a handsome boy in black velvet, who +said: + +"Mamma, here's Henrietta!" + +"Arthur," said the young lady excitedly, "leave the room this instant; +and don't dare to come back until you get leave." + +The boy's countenance fell, and he sulkily went out without a word. + +"Is anything wrong?" said the matron, putting away her book with the +unconcerned resignation of an experienced person who foresees a storm in +a teacup. "Where is Sidney?" + +"Gone! Gone! Deserted me! I--" The young lady's utterance failed, and +she threw herself upon an ottoman, sobbing with passionate spite. + +"Nonsense! I thought Sidney had more sense. There, Henrietta, don't be +silly. I suppose you have quarrelled." + +"No! No!! No!!!" cried Henrietta, stamping on the carpet. "We had not a +word. I have not lost my temper since we were married, mamma; I solemnly +swear I have not. I will kill myself; there is no other way. There's a +curse on me. I am marked out to be miserable. He--" + +"Tut, tut! What has happened, Henrietta? As you have been married now +nearly six weeks, you can hardly be surprised at a little tiff arising. +You are so excitable! You cannot expect the sky to be always cloudless. +Most likely you are to blame; for Sidney is far more reasonable than +you. Stop crying, and behave like a woman of sense, and I will go to +Sidney and make everything right." + +"But he's gone, and I can't find out where. Oh, what shall I do?" + +"What has happened?" + +Henrietta writhed with impatience. Then, forcing herself to tell her +story, she answered: + +"We arranged on Monday that I should spend two days with Aunt Judith +instead of going with him to Birmingham to that horrid Trade Congress. +We parted on the best of terms. He couldn't have been more affectionate. +I will kill myself; I don't care about anything or anybody. And when +I came back on Wednesday he was gone, and there was this letter." She +produced a letter, and wept more bitterly than before. + +"Let me see it." + +Henrietta hesitated, but her mother took the letter from her, sat down +near the window, and composed herself to read without the least regard +to her daughter's vehement distress. The letter ran thus: + +"Monday night. + +"My Dearest: I am off--surfeited with endearment--to live my own life +and do my own work. I could only have prepared you for this by coldness +or neglect, which are wholly impossible to me when the spell of your +presence is upon me. I find that I must fly if I am to save myself. + +"I am afraid that I cannot give you satisfactory and intelligible +reasons for this step. You are a beautiful and luxurious creature: life +is to you full and complete only when it is a carnival of love. My case +is just the reverse. Before three soft speeches have escaped me I rebuke +myself for folly and insincerity. Before a caress has had time to cool, +a strenuous revulsion seizes me: I long to return to my old lonely +ascetic hermit life; to my dry books; my Socialist propagandism; my +voyage of discovery through the wilderness of thought. I married in an +insane fit of belief that I had a share of the natural affection +which carries other men through lifetimes of matrimony. Already I am +undeceived. You are to me the loveliest woman in the world. Well, for +five weeks I have walked and tallied and dallied with the loveliest +woman in the world, and the upshot is that I am flying from her, and am +for a hermit's cave until I die. Love cannot keep possession of me: all +my strongest powers rise up against it and will not endure it. Forgive +me for writing nonsense that you won't understand, and do not think too +hardly of me. I have been as good to you as my selfish nature allowed. +Do not seek to disturb me in the obscurity which I desire and deserve. +My solicitor will call on your father to arrange business matters, and +you shall be as happy as wealth and liberty can make you. We shall meet +again--some day. + +"Adieu, my last love, + +"Sidney Trefusis." + +"Well?" cried Mrs. Trefusis, observing through her tears that her mother +had read the letter and was contemplating it in a daze. + +"Well, certainly!" said Mrs. Jansenius, with emphasis. "Do you think +he is quite sane, Henrietta? Or have you been plaguing him for too much +attention? Men are not willing to give up their whole existence to their +wives, even during the honeymoon." + +"He pretended that he was never happy out of my presence," sobbed +Henrietta. "There never was anything so cruel. I often wanted to be by +myself for a change, but I was afraid to hurt his feelings by saying +so. And now he has no feelings. But he must come back to me. Mustn't he, +mamma?" + +"He ought to. I suppose he has not gone away with anyone?" + +Henrietta sprang up, her cheeks vivid scarlet. "If I thought that I +would pursue him to the end of the earth, and murder her. But no; he is +not like anybody else. He hates me! Everybody hates me! You don't care +whether I am deserted or not, nor papa, nor anyone in this house." + +Mrs. Jansenius, still indifferent to her daughter's agitation, +considered a moment, and then said placidly: + +"You can do nothing until we hear from the solicitor. In the meantime +you may stay with us, if you wish. I did not expect a visit from you so +soon; but your room has not been used since you went away." + +Mrs. Trefusis ceased crying, chilled by this first intimation that her +father's house was no longer her home. A more real sense of desolation +came upon her. Under its cold influence she began to collect herself, +and to feel her pride rising like a barrier between her and her mother. + +"I won't stay long," she said. "If his solicitor will not tell me where +he is, I will hunt through England for him. I am sorry to trouble you." + +"Oh, you will be no greater trouble than you have always been," said +Mrs. Jansenius calmly, not displeased to see that her daughter had taken +the hint. "You had better go and wash your face. People may call, and +I presume you don't wish to receive them in that plight. If you meet +Arthur on the stairs, please tell him he may come in." + +Henrietta screwed her lips into a curious pout and withdrew. Arthur then +came in and stood at the window in sullen silence, brooding over his +recent expulsion. Suddenly he exclaimed: "Here's papa, and it's not five +o'clock yet!" whereupon his mother sent him away again. + +Mr. Jansenius was a man of imposing presence, not yet in his fiftieth +year, but not far from it. He moved with dignity, bearing himself as if +the contents of his massive brow were precious. His handsome aquiline +nose and keen dark eyes proclaimed his Jewish origin, of which he was +ashamed. Those who did not know this naturally believed that he was +proud of it, and were at a loss to account for his permitting his +children to be educated as Christians. Well instructed in business, +and subject to no emotion outside the love of family, respectability, +comfort, and money, he had maintained the capital inherited from his +father, and made it breed new capital in the usual way. He was a banker, +and his object as such was to intercept and appropriate the immense +saving which the banking system effects, and so, as far as possible, to +leave the rest of the world working just as hard as before banking was +introduced. But as the world would not on these terms have banked at +all, he had to give them some of the saving as an inducement. So they +profited by the saving as well as he, and he had the satisfaction +of being at once a wealthy citizen and a public benefactor, rich in +comforts and easy in conscience. + +He entered the room quickly, and his wife saw that something had vexed +him. + +"Do you know what has happened, Ruth?" he said. + +"Yes. She is upstairs." + +Mr. Jansenius stared. "Do you mean to say that she has left already?" he +said. "What business has she to come here?" + +"It is natural enough. Where else should she have gone?" + +Mr. Jansenius, who mistrusted his own judgment when it differed from +that of his wife, replied slowly, "Why did she not go to her mother?" + +Mrs. Jansenius, puzzled in her turn, looked at him with cool wonder, and +remarked, "I am her mother, am I not?" + +"I was not aware of it. I am surprised to hear it, Ruth. Have you had a +letter too. I have seen the letter. But what do you mean by telling +me that you do not know I am Henrietta's mother? Are you trying to be +funny?" + +"Henrietta! Is she here? Is this some fresh trouble?" + +"I don't know. What are you talking about?" + +"I am talking about Agatha Wylie." + +"Oh! I was talking about Henrietta." + +"Well, what about Henrietta?" + +"What about Agatha Wylie?" + +At this Mr. Jansenius became exasperated, and he deemed it best to +relate what Henrietta had told her. When she gave him Trefusis's letter, +he said, more calmly: "Misfortunes never come singly. Read that," and +handed her another letter, so that they both began reading at the same +time. + +Mrs. Jansenius read as follows: + +"Alton College, Lyvern. + +"To Mrs. Wylie, Acacia Lodge, Chiswick. + +"Dear Madam: I write with great regret to request that you will at once +withdraw Miss Wylie from Alton College. In an establishment like +this, where restraint upon the liberty of the students is reduced to a +minimum, it is necessary that the small degree of subordination which +is absolutely indispensable be acquiesced in by all without complaint +or delay. Miss Wylie has failed to comply with this condition. She has +declared her wish to leave, and has assumed an attitude towards myself +and my colleagues which we cannot, consistently with our duty to +ourselves and her fellow students, pass over. If Miss Wylie has any +cause to complain of her treatment here, or of the step which she has +compelled us to take, she will doubtless make it known to you. + +"Perhaps you will be so good as to communicate with Miss Wylie's +guardian, Mr. Jansenius, with whom I shall be happy to make an equitable +arrangement respecting the fees which have been paid in advance for the +current term. + +"I am, dear madam, + +"Yours faithfully, + +"Maria Wilson." + +"A nice young lady, that!" said Mrs. Jansenius. + +"I do not understand this," said Mr. Jansenius, reddening as he took in +the purport of his son-in-law's letter. "I will not submit to it. What +does it mean, Ruth?" + +"I don't know. Sidney is mad, I think; and his honeymoon has brought +his madness out. But you must not let him throw Henrietta on my hands +again." + +"Mad! Does he think he can shirk his responsibility to his wife because +she is my daughter? Does he think, because his mother's father was a +baronet, that he can put Henrietta aside the moment her society palls on +him?" + +"Oh, it's nothing of that sort. He never thought of us. But I will +make him think of us," said Mr. Jansenius, raising his voice in great +agitation. "He shall answer for it." + +Just then Henrietta returned, and saw her father moving excitedly to +and fro, repeating, "He shall answer to me for this. He shall answer for +it." + +Mrs. Jansenius frowned at her daughter to remain silent, and said +soothingly, "Don't lose your temper, John." + +"But I will lose my temper. Insolent hound! Damned scoundrel!" + +"He is not," whimpered Henrietta, sitting down and taking out her +handkerchief. + +"Oh, come, come!" said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily, "we have had enough +crying. Let us have no more of it." + +Henrietta sprang up in a passion. "I will say and do as I please," she +exclaimed. "I am a married woman, and I will receive no orders. And I +will have my husband back again, no matter what he does to hide himself. +Papa, won't you make him come back to me? I am dying. Promise that you +will make him come back." + +And, throwing herself upon her father's bosom, she postponed further +discussion by going into hysterics, and startling the household by her +screams. + + + +CHAPTER III + +One of the professors at Alton College was a Mrs. Miller, an +old-fashioned schoolmistress who did not believe in Miss Wilson's system +of government by moral force, and carried it out under protest. Though +not ill-natured, she was narrow-minded enough to be in some degree +contemptible, and was consequently prone to suspect others of despising +her. She suspected Agatha in particular, and treated her with disdainful +curtness in such intercourse as they had--it was fortunately little. +Agatha was not hurt by this, for Mrs. Miller was an unsympathetic woman, +who made no friends among the girls, and satisfied her affectionate +impulses by petting a large cat named Gracchus, but generally called +Bacchus by an endearing modification of the harsh initial consonant. + +One evening Mrs. Miller, seated with Miss Wilson in the study, +correcting examination papers, heard in the distance a cry like that +of a cat in distress. She ran to the door and listened. Presently there +arose a prolonged wail, slurring up through two octaves, and subsiding +again. It was a true feline screech, impossible to localize; but it +was interrupted by a sob, a snarl, a fierce spitting, and a scuffling, +coming unmistakably from a room on the floor beneath, in which, at that +hour, the older girls assembled for study. + +"My poor Gracchy!" exclaimed Mrs. Miller, running downstairs as fast as +she could. She found the room unusually quiet. Every girl was deep in +study except Miss Carpenter, who, pretending to pick up a fallen +book, was purple with suppressed laughter and the congestion caused by +stooping. + +"Where is Miss Ward?" demanded Mrs. Miller. + +"Miss Ward has gone for some astronomical diagrams in which we are +interested," said Agatha, looking up gravely. Just then Miss Ward, +diagrams in hand, entered. + +"Has that cat been in here?" she said, not seeing Mrs. Miller, and +speaking in a tone expressive of antipathy to Gracchus. + +Agatha started and drew up her ankles, as if fearful of having them +bitten. Then, looking apprehensively under the desk, she replied, "There +is no cat here, Miss Ward." + +"There is one somewhere; I heard it," said Miss Ward carelessly, +unrolling her diagrams, which she began to explain without further +parley. Mrs. Miller, anxious for her pet, hastened to seek it elsewhere. +In the hall she met one of the housemaids. + +"Susan," she said, "have you seen Gracchus?" + +"He's asleep on the hearthrug in your room, ma'am. But I heard him +crying down here a moment ago. I feel sure that another cat has got in, +and that they are fighting." + +Susan smiled compassionately. "Lor' bless you, ma'am," she said, "that +was Miss Wylie. It's a sort of play-acting that she goes through. There +is the bee on the window-pane, and the soldier up the chimley, and the +cat under the dresser. She does them all like life." + +"The soldier in the chimney!" repeated Mrs. Miller, shocked. + +"Yes, ma'am. Like as it were a follower that had hid there when he heard +the mistress coming." + +Mrs. Miller's face set determinedly. She returned to the study and +related what had just occurred, adding some sarcastic comments on the +efficacy of moral force in maintaining collegiate discipline. Miss +Wilson looked grave; considered for some time; and at last said: "I must +think over this. Would you mind leaving it in my hands for the present?" + +Mrs. Miller said that she did not care in whose hands it remained +provided her own were washed of it, and resumed her work at the papers. +Miss Wilson then, wishing to be alone, went into the empty classroom at +the other side of the landing. She took the Fault Book from its shelf +and sat down before it. Its record closed with the announcement, in +Agatha's handwriting: + +"Miss Wilson has called me impertinent, and has written to my uncle that +I have refused to obey the rules. I was not impertinent; and I never +refused to obey the rules. So much for Moral Force!" + +Miss Wilson rose vigorously, exclaiming: "I will soon let her +know whether--" She checked herself, and looked round hastily, +superstitiously fancying that Agatha might have stolen into the room +unobserved. Reassured that she was alone, she examined her conscience as +to whether she had done wrong in calling Agatha impertinent, justifying +herself by the reflection that Agatha had, in fact, been impertinent. +Yet she recollected that she had refused to admit this plea on a recent +occasion when Jane Carpenter had advanced it in extenuation of having +called a fellow-student a liar. Had she then been unjust to Jane, or +inconsiderate to Agatha? + +Her casuistry was interrupted by some one softly whistling a theme from +the overture to Masaniello, popular at the college in the form of an +arrangement for six pianofortes and twelve hands. There was only one +student unladylike and musical enough to whistle; and Miss Wilson was +ashamed to find herself growing nervous at the prospect of an encounter +with Agatha, who entered whistling sweetly, but with a lugubrious +countenance. When she saw in whose presence she stood, she begged pardon +politely, and was about to withdraw, when Miss Wilson, summoning all her +Judgment and tact, and hoping that they would--contrary to their custom +in emergencies--respond to the summons, said: + +"Agatha, come here. I want to speak to you." + +Agatha closed her lips, drew in a long breath through her nostrils, and +marched to within a few feet of Miss Wilson, where she halted with her +hands clasped before her. + +"Sit down." + +Agatha sat down with a single movement, like a doll. + +"I don't understand that, Agatha," said Miss Wilson, pointing to the +entry in the Recording Angel. "What does it mean?" + +"I am unfairly treated," said Agatha, with signs of agitation. + +"In what way?" + +"In every way. I am expected to be something more than mortal. Everyone +else is encouraged to complain, and to be weak and silly. But I must +have no feeling. I must be always in the right. Everyone else may be +home-sick, or huffed, or in low spirits. I must have no nerves, and must +keep others laughing all day long. Everyone else may sulk when a word +of reproach is addressed to them, and may make the professors afraid to +find fault with them. I have to bear with the insults of teachers who +have less self-control than I, a girl of seventeen! and must coax +them out of the difficulties they make for themselves by their own ill +temper." + +"But, Agatha--" + +"Oh, I know I am talking nonsense, Miss Wilson; but can you expect me to +be always sensible--to be infallible?" + +"Yes, Agatha; I do not think it is too much to expect you to be always +sensible; and--" + +"Then you have neither sense nor sympathy yourself," said Agatha. + +There was an awful pause. Neither could have told how long it lasted. +Then Agatha, feeling that she must do or say something desperate, or +else fly, made a distracted gesture and ran out of the room. + +She rejoined her companions in the great hall of the mansion, where +they were assembled after study for "recreation," a noisy process which +always set in spontaneously when the professors withdrew. She usually +sat with her two favorite associates on a high window seat near the +hearth. That place was now occupied by a little girl with flaxen hair, +whom Agatha, regardless of moral force, lifted by the shoulders and +deposited on the floor. Then she sat down and said: + +"Oh, such a piece of news!" + +Miss Carpenter opened her eyes eagerly. Gertrude Lindsay affected +indifference. + +"Someone is going to be expelled," said Agatha. + +"Expelled! Who?" + +"You will know soon enough, Jane," replied Agatha, suddenly grave. "It +is someone who made an impudent entry in the Recording Angel." + +Fear stole upon Jane, and she became very red. "Agatha," she said, "it +was you who told me what to write. You know you did, and you can't deny +it." + +"I can't deny it, can't I? I am ready to swear that I never dictated a +word to you in my life." + +"Gertrude knows you did," exclaimed Jane, appalled, and almost in tears. + +"There," said Agatha, petting her as if she were a vast baby. "It shall +not be expelled, so it shan't. Have you seen the Recording Angel lately, +either of you?" + +"Not since our last entry," said Gertrude. + +"Chips," said Agatha, calling to the flaxen-haired child, "go upstairs +to No. 6, and, if Miss Wilson isn't there, fetch me the Recording +Angel." + +The little girl grumbled inarticulately and did not stir. + +"Chips," resumed Agatha, "did you ever wish that you had never been +born?" + +"Why don't you go yourself?" said the child pettishly, but evidently +alarmed. + +"Because," continued Agatha, ignoring the question, "you shall wish +yourself dead and buried under the blackest flag in the coal cellar if +you don't bring me the book before I count sixteen. One--two--" + +"Go at once and do as you are told, you disagreeable little thing," said +Gertrude sharply. "How dare you be so disobliging?" + +"--nine--ten--eleven--" pursued Agatha. + +The child quailed, went out, and presently returned, hugging the +Recording Angel in her arms. + +"You are a good little darling--when your better qualities are +brought out by a judicious application of moral force," said Agatha, +good-humoredly. "Remind me to save the raisins out of my pudding for you +to-morrow. Now, Jane, you shall see the entry for which the best-hearted +girl in the college is to be expelled. Voila!" + +The two girls read and were awestruck; Jane opening her mouth and +gasping, Gertrude closing hers and looking very serious. + +"Do you mean to say that you had the dreadful cheek to let the Lady +Abbess see that?" said Jane. + +"Pooh! she would have forgiven that. You should have heard what I said +to her! She fainted three times." + +"That's a story," said Gertrude gravely. + +"I beg your pardon," said Agatha, swiftly grasping Gertrude's knee. + +"Nothing," cried Gertrude, flinching hysterically. "Don't, Agatha." + +"How many times did Miss Wilson faint?" + +"Three times. I will scream, Agatha; I will indeed." + +"Three times, as you say. And I wonder that a girl brought up as +you have been, by moral force, should be capable of repeating such +a falsehood. But we had an awful row, really and truly. She lost her +temper. Fortunately, I never lose mine." + +"Well, I'm browed!" exclaimed Jane incredulously. "I like that." + +"For a girl of county family, you are inexcusably vulgar, Jane. I don't +know what I said; but she will never forgive me for profaning her pet +book. I shall be expelled as certainly as I am sitting here." + +"And do you mean to say that you are going away?" said Jane, faltering +as she began to realize the consequences. + +"I do. And what is to become of you when I am not here to get you out +of your scrapes, or of Gertrude without me to check her inveterate +snobbishness, is more than I can foresee." + +"I am not snobbish," said Gertrude, "although I do not choose to make +friends with everyone. But I never objected to you, Agatha." + +"No; I should like to catch you at it. Hallo, Jane!" (who had suddenly +burst into tears): "what's the matter? I trust you are not permitting +yourself to take the liberty of crying for me." + +"Indeed," sobbed Jane indignantly, "I know that I am a f--fool for my +pains. You have no heart." + +"You certainly are a f--fool, as you aptly express it," said Agatha, +passing her arm round Jane, and disregarding an angry attempt to shake +it off; "but if I had any heart it would be touched by this proof of +your attachment." + +"I never said you had no heart," protested Jane; "but I hate when you +speak like a book." + +"You hate when I speak like a book, do you? My dear, silly old Jane! I +shall miss you greatly." + +"Yes, I dare say," said Jane, with tearful sarcasm. "At least my snoring +will never keep you awake again." + +"You don't snore, Jane. We have been in a conspiracy to make you believe +that you do, that's all. Isn't it good of me to tell you?" + +Jane was overcome by this revelation. After a long pause, she said with +deep conviction, "I always knew that I didn't. Oh, the way you kept it +up! I solemnly declare that from this time forth I will believe nobody." + +"Well, and what do you think of it all?" said Agatha, transferring her +attention to Gertrude, who was very grave. + +"I think--I am now speaking seriously, Agatha--I think you are in the +wrong." + +"Why do you think that, pray?" demanded Agatha, a little roused. + +"You must be, or Miss Wilson would not be angry with you. Of course, +according to your own account, you are always in the right, and everyone +else is always wrong; but you shouldn't have written that in the book. +You know I speak as your friend." + +"And pray what does your wretched little soul know of my motives and +feelings?" + +"It is easy enough to understand you," retorted Gertrude, nettled. +"Self-conceit is not so uncommon that one need be at a loss to recognize +it. And mind, Agatha Wylie," she continued, as if goaded by some +unbearable reminiscence, "if you are really going, I don't care whether +we part friends or not. I have not forgotten the day when you called me +a spiteful cat." + +"I have repented," said Agatha, unmoved. "One day I sat down and watched +Bacchus seated on the hearthrug, with his moony eyes looking into space +so thoughtfully and patiently that I apologized for comparing you to +him. If I were to call him a spiteful cat he would only not believe me." + +"Because he is a cat," said Jane, with the giggle which was seldom far +behind her tears. + +"No; but because he is not spiteful. Gertrude keeps a recording angel +inside her little head, and it is so full of other people's faults, +written in large hand and read through a magnifying glass, that there is +no room to enter her own." + +"You are very poetic," said Gertrude; "but I understand what you mean, +and shall not forget it." + +"You ungrateful wretch," exclaimed Agatha, turning upon her so suddenly +and imperiously that she involuntarily shrank aside: "how often, when +you have tried to be insolent and false with me, have I not driven away +your bad angel--by tickling you? Had you a friend in the college, except +half-a-dozen toadies, until I came? And now, because I have sometimes, +for your own good, shown you your faults, you bear malice against me, +and say that you don't care whether we part friends or not!" + +"I didn't say so." + +"Oh, Gertrude, you know you did," said Jane. + +"You seem to think that I have no conscience," said Gertrude +querulously. + +"I wish you hadn't," said Agatha. "Look at me! I have no conscience, and +see how much pleasanter I am!" + +"You care for no one but yourself," said Gertrude. "You never think that +other people have feelings too. No one ever considers me." + +"Oh, I like to hear you talk," cried Jane ironically. "You are +considered a great deal more than is good for you; and the more you are +considered the more you want to be considered." + +"As if," declaimed Agatha theatrically, "increase of appetite did grow +by what it fed on. Shakespeare!" + +"Bother Shakespeare," said Jane, impetuously, "--old fool that expects +credit for saying things that everybody knows! But if you complain +of not being considered, Gertrude, how would you like to be me, whom +everybody sets down as a fool? But I am not such a fool as--" + +"As you look," interposed Agatha. "I have told you so scores of times, +Jane; and I am glad that you have adopted my opinion at last. Which +would you rather be, a greater fool than y--" + +"Oh, shut up," said Jane, impatiently; "you have asked me that twice +this week already." + +The three were silent for some seconds after this: Agatha meditating, +Gertrude moody, Jane vacant and restless. At last Agatha said: + +"And are you two also smarting under a sense of the inconsiderateness +and selfishness of the rest of the world--both misunderstood--everything +expected from you, and no allowances made for you?" + +"I don't know what you mean by both of us," said Gertrude coldly. + +"Neither do I," said Jane angrily. "That is just the way people treat +me. You may laugh, Agatha; and she may turn up her nose as much as she +likes; you know it's true. But the idea of Gertrude wanting to make out +that she isn't considered is nothing but sentimentality, and vanity, and +nonsense." + +"You are exceedingly rude, Miss Carpenter," said Gertrude. + +"My manners are as good as yours, and perhaps better," retorted Jane. +"My family is as good, anyhow." + +"Children, children," said Agatha, admonitorily, "do not forget that you +are sworn friends." + +"We didn't swear," said Jane. "We were to have been three sworn friends, +and Gertrude and I were willing, but you wouldn't swear, and so the +bargain was cried off." + +"Just so," said Agatha; "and the result is that I spend all my time in +keeping peace between you. And now, to go back to our subject, may I ask +whether it has ever occurred to you that no one ever considers me?" + +"I suppose you think that very funny. You take good care to make +yourself considered," sneered Jane. + +"You cannot say that I do not consider you," said Gertrude +reproachfully. + +"Not when I tickle you, dear." + +"I consider you, and I am not ticklesome," said Jane tenderly. + +"Indeed! Let me try," said Agatha, slipping her arm about Jane's ample +waist, and eliciting a piercing combination of laugh and scream from +her. + +"Sh--sh," whispered Gertrude quickly. "Don't you see the Lady Abbess?" + +Miss Wilson had just entered the room. Agatha, without appearing to be +aware of her presence, stealthily withdrew her arm, and said aloud: + +"How can you make such a noise, Jane? You will disturb the whole house." + +Jane reddened with indignation, but had to remain silent, for the eyes +of the principal were upon her. Miss Wilson had her bonnet on. She +announced that she was going to walk to Lyvern, the nearest village. Did +any of the sixth form young ladies wish to accompany her? + +Agatha jumped from her seat at once, and Jane smothered a laugh. + +"Miss Wilson said the sixth form, Miss Wylie," said Miss Ward, who had +entered also. "You are not in the sixth form." + +"No," said Agatha sweetly, "but I want to go, if I may." + +Miss Wilson looked round. The sixth form consisted of four studious +young ladies, whose goal in life for the present was an examination by +one of the Universities, or, as the college phrase was, "the Cambridge +Local." None of them responded. + +"Fifth form, then," said Miss Wilson. + +Jane, Gertrude, and four others rose and stood with Agatha. + +"Very well," said Miss Wilson. "Do not be long dressing." + +They left the room quietly, and dashed at the staircase the moment they +were out of sight. Agatha, though void of emulation for the Cambridge +Local, always competed with ardor for the honor of being first up or +down stairs. + +They soon returned, clad for walking, and left the college in +procession, two by two, Jane and Agatha leading, Gertrude and Miss +Wilson coming last. The road to Lyvern lay through acres of pasture +land, formerly arable, now abandoned to cattle, which made more money +for the landlord than the men whom they had displaced. Miss Wilson's +young ladies, being instructed in economics, knew that this proved that +the land was being used to produce what was most wanted from it; and if +all the advantage went to the landlord, that was but natural, as he was +the chief gentleman in the neighborhood. Still the arrangement had its +disagreeable side; for it involved a great many cows, which made them +afraid to cross the fields; a great many tramps, who made them afraid to +walk the roads; and a scarcity of gentlemen subjects for the maiden art +of fascination. + +The sky was cloudy. Agatha, reckless of dusty stockings, waded through +the heaps of fallen leaves with the delight of a child paddling in the +sea; Gertrude picked her steps carefully, and the rest tramped along, +chatting subduedly, occasionally making some scientific or philosophical +remark in a louder tone, in order that Miss Wilson might overhear +and give them due credit. Save a herdsman, who seemed to have caught +something of the nature and expression of the beasts he tended, they +met no one until they approached the village, where, on the brow of an +acclivity, masculine humanity appeared in the shape of two curates: one +tall, thin, close-shaven, with a book under his arm, and his neck craned +forward; the other middle-sized, robust, upright, and aggressive, with +short black whiskers, and an air of protest against such notions as that +a clergyman may not marry, hunt, play cricket, or share the sports +of honest laymen. The shaven one was Mr. Josephs, his companion Mr. +Fairholme. Obvious scriptural perversions of this brace of names had +been introduced by Agatha. + +"Here come Pharaoh and Joseph," she said to Jane. "Joseph will blush +when you look at him. Pharaoh won't blush until he passes Gertrude, so +we shall lose that." + +"Josephs, indeed!" said Jane scornfully. + +"He loves you, Jane. Thin persons like a fine armful of a woman. +Pharaoh, who is a cad, likes blue blood on the same principle of the +attraction of opposites. That is why he is captivated by Gertrude's +aristocratic air." + +"If he only knew how she despises him!" + +"He is too vain to suspect it. Besides, Gertrude despises everyone, +even us. Or, rather, she doesn't despise anyone in particular, but is +contemptuous by nature, just as you are stout." + +"Me! I had rather be stout than stuck-up. Ought we to bow?" + +"I will, certainly. I want to make Pharoah blush, if I can." + +The two parsons had been simulating an interest in the cloudy firmament +as an excuse for not looking at the girls until close at hand. Jane sent +an eyeflash at Josephs with a skill which proved her favorite assertion +that she was not so stupid as people thought. He blushed and took off +his soft, low-crowned felt hat. Fairholme saluted very solemnly, for +Agatha bowed to him with marked seriousness. But when his gravity and +his stiff silk hat were at their highest point she darted a mocking +smile at him, and he too blushed, all the deeper because he was enraged +with himself for doing so. + +"Did you ever see such a pair of fools?" whispered Jane, giggling. + +"They cannot help their sex. They say women are fools, and so they are; +but thank Heaven they are not quite so bad as men! I should like to look +back and see Pharaoh passing Gertrude; but if he saw me he would think I +was admiring him; and he is conceited enough already without that." + +The two curates became redder and redder as they passed the column of +young ladies. Miss Lindsay would not look to their side of the road, and +Miss Wilson's nod and smile were not quite sincere. She never spoke to +curates, and kept up no more intercourse with the vicar than she could +not avoid. He suspected her of being an infidel, though neither he nor +any other mortal in Lyvern had ever heard a word from her on the subject +of her religious opinions. But he knew that "moral science" was taught +secularly at the college; and he felt that where morals were made +a department of science the demand for religion must fall off +proportionately. + +"What a life to lead and what a place to live in!" exclaimed Agatha. "We +meet two creatures, more like suits of black than men; and that is an +incident--a startling incident--in our existence!" + +"I think they're awful fun," said Jane, "except that Josephs has such +large ears." + +The girls now came to a place where the road dipped through a plantation +of sombre sycamore and horsechestnut trees. As they passed down into +it, a little wind sprang up, the fallen leaves stirred, and the branches +heaved a long, rustling sigh. + +"I hate this bit of road," said Jane, hurrying on. "It's just the sort +of place that people get robbed and murdered in." + +"It is not such a bad place to shelter in if we get caught in the rain, +as I expect we shall before we get back," said Agatha, feeling the +fitful breeze strike ominously on her cheek. "A nice pickle I shall be +in with these light shoes on! I wish I had put on my strong boots. If it +rains much I will go into the old chalet." + +"Miss Wilson won't let you. It's trespassing." + +"What matter! Nobody lives in it, and the gate is off its hinges. I only +want to stand under the veranda--not to break into the wretched place. +Besides, the landlord knows Miss Wilson; he won't mind. There's a drop." + +Miss Carpenter looked up, and immediately received a heavy raindrop in +her eye. + +"Oh!" she cried. "It's pouring. We shall be drenched." + +Agatha stopped, and the column broke into a group about her. + +"Miss Wilson," she said, "it is going to rain in torrents, and Jane and +I have only our shoes on." + +Miss Wilson paused to consider the situation. Someone suggested that if +they hurried on they might reach Lyvern before the rain came down. + +"More than a mile," said Agatha scornfully, "and the rain coming down +already!" + +Someone else suggested returning to the college. + +"More than two miles," said Agatha. "We should be drowned." + +"There is nothing for it but to wait here under the trees," said Miss +Wilson. + +"The branches are very bare," said Gertrude anxiously. "If it should +come down heavily they will drip worse than the rain itself." + +"Much worse," said Agatha. "I think we had better get under the veranda +of the old chalet. It is not half a minute's walk from here." + +"But we have no right--" Here the sky darkened threateningly. Miss +Wilson checked herself and said, "I suppose it is still empty." + +"Of course," replied Agatha, impatient to be moving. "It is almost a +ruin." + +"Then let us go there, by all means," said Miss Wilson, not disposed to +stand on trifles at the risk of a bad cold. + +They hurried on, and came presently to a green hill by the wayside. On +the slope was a dilapidated Swiss cottage, surrounded by a veranda on +slender wooden pillars, about which clung a few tendrils of withered +creeper, their stray ends still swinging from the recent wind, now +momentarily hushed as if listening for the coming of the rain. Access +from the roadway was by a rough wooden gate in the hedge. To the +surprise of Agatha, who had last seen this gate off its hinges and only +attached to the post by a rusty chain and padlock, it was now rehung and +fastened by a new hasp. The weather admitting of no delay to consider +these repairs, she opened the gate and hastened up the slope, followed +by the troop of girls. Their ascent ended with a rush, for the rain +suddenly came down in torrents. + +When they were safe under the veranda, panting, laughing, grumbling, or +congratulating themselves on having been so close to a place of shelter, +Miss Wilson observed, with some uneasiness, a spade--new, like the hasp +of the gate--sticking upright in a patch of ground that someone had +evidently been digging lately. She was about to comment on this sign +of habitation, when the door of the chalet was flung open, and Jane +screamed as a man darted out to the spade, which he was about to carry +in out of the wet, when he perceived the company under the veranda, and +stood still in amazement. He was a young laborer with a reddish-brown +beard of a week's growth. He wore corduroy trousers and a linen-sleeved +corduroy vest; both, like the hasp and spade, new. A coarse blue shirt, +with a vulgar red-and-orange neckerchief, also new, completed his dress; +and, to shield himself from the rain, he held up a silk umbrella with +a silver-mounted ebony handle, which he seemed unlikely to have come by +honestly. Miss Wilson felt like a boy caught robbing an orchard, but she +put a bold face on the matter and said: + +"Will you allow us to take shelter here until the rain is over?" + +"For certain, your ladyship," he replied, respectfully applying the +spade handle to his hair, which was combed down to his eyebrows. +"Your ladyship does me proud to take refuge from the onclemency of the +yallovrments beneath my 'umble rooftree." His accent was barbarous; and +he, like a low comedian, seemed to relish its vulgarity. As he spoke he +came in among them for shelter, and propped his spade against the wall +of the chalet, kicking the soil from his hobnailed blucher boots, which +were new. + +"I came out, honored lady," he resumed, much at his ease, "to house my +spade, whereby I earn my living. What the pen is to the poet, such is +the spade to the working man." He took the kerchief from his neck, wiped +his temples as if the sweat of honest toil were there, and calmly tied +it on again. + +"If you'll 'scuse a remark from a common man," he observed, "your +ladyship has a fine family of daughters." + +"They are not my daughters," said Miss Wilson, rather shortly. + +"Sisters, mebbe?" + +"No." + +"I thought they mout be, acause I have a sister myself. Not that I would +make bold for to dror comparisons, even in my own mind, for she's only a +common woman--as common a one as ever you see. But few women rise above +the common. Last Sunday, in yon village church, I heard the minister +read out that one man in a thousand had he found, 'but one woman in all +these,' he says, 'have I not found,' and I thinks to myself, 'Right you +are!' But I warrant he never met your ladyship." + +A laugh, thinly disguised as a cough, escaped from Miss Carpenter. + +"Young lady a-ketchin' cold, I'm afeerd," he said, with respectful +solicitude. + +"Do you think the rain will last long?" said Agatha politely. + +The man examined the sky with a weather-wise air for some moments. Then +he turned to Agatha, and replied humbly: "The Lord only knows, Miss. It +is not for a common man like me to say." + +Silence ensued, during which Agatha, furtively scrutinizing the tenant +of the chalet, noticed that his face and neck were cleaner and less +sunburnt than those of the ordinary toilers of Lyvern. His hands +were hidden by large gardening gloves stained with coal dust. Lyvern +laborers, as a rule, had little objection to soil their hands; they +never wore gloves. Still, she thought, there was no reason why an +eccentric workman, insufferably talkative, and capable of an allusion to +the pen of the poet, should not indulge himself with cheap gloves. But +then the silk, silvermounted umbrella-- + +"The young lady's hi," he said suddenly, holding out the umbrella, "is +fixed on this here. I am well aware that it is not for the lowest of the +low to carry a gentleman's brolly, and I ask your ladyship's pardon +for the liberty. I come by it accidental-like, and should be glad of a +reasonable offer from any gentleman in want of a honest article." + +As he spoke two gentlemen, much in want of the article, as their +clinging wet coats showed, ran through the gateway and made for the +chalet. Fairholme arrived first, exclaiming: "Fearful shower!" and +briskly turned his back to the ladies in order to stand at the edge +of the veranda and shake the water out of his hat. Josephs came next, +shrinking from the damp contact of his own garments. He cringed to Miss +Wilson, and hoped that she had escaped a wetting. + +"So far I have," she replied. "The question is, how are we to get home?" + +"Oh, it's only a shower," said Josephs, looking up cheerfully at the +unbroken curtain of cloud. "It will clear up presently." + +"It ain't for a common man to set up his opinion again' a gentleman wot +have profesh'nal knowledge of the heavens, as one may say," said the +man, "but I would 'umbly offer to bet my umbrellar to his wideawake that +it don't cease raining this side of seven o'clock." + +"That man lives here," whispered Miss Wilson, "and I suppose he wants to +get rid of us." + +"H'm!" said Fairholme. Then, turning to the strange laborer with the air +of a person not to be trifled with, he raised his voice, and said: "You +live here, do you, my man?" + +"I do, sir, by your good leave, if I may make so bold." + +"What's your name?" + +"Jeff Smilash, sir, at your service." + +"Where do you come from?" + +"Brixtonbury, sir." + +"Brixtonbury! Where's that?" + +"Well, sir, I don't rightly know. If a gentleman like you, knowing +jography and such, can't tell, how can I?" + +"You ought to know where you were born, man. Haven't you got common +sense?" + +"Where could such a one as me get common sense, sir? Besides, I was only +a foundling. Mebbe I warn's born at all." + +"Did I see you at church last Sunday?" + +"No, sir. I only come o' Wensday." + +"Well, let me see you there next Sunday," said Fairholme shortly, +turning away from him. + +Miss Wilson looked at the weather, at Josephs, who was conversing with +Jane, and finally at Smilash, who knuckled his forehead without waiting +to be addressed. + +"Have you a boy whom you can send to Lyvern to get us a conveyance--a +carriage? I will give him a shilling for his trouble." + +"A shilling!" said Smilash joyfully. "Your ladyship is a noble lady. Two +four-wheeled cabs. There's eight on you." + +"There is only one cab in Lyvern," said Miss Wilson. "Take this card +to Mr. Marsh, the jotmaster, and tell him the predicament we are in. He +will send vehicles." + +Smilash took the card and read it at a glance. He then went into the +chalet. Reappearing presently in a sou'wester and oilskins, he ran off +through the rain and vaulted over the gate with ridiculous elegance. +No sooner had he vanished than, as often happens to remarkable men, he +became the subject of conversation. + +"A decent workman," said Josephs. "A well-mannered man, considering his +class." + +"A born fool, though," said Fairholme. + +"Or a rogue," said Agatha, emphasizing the suggestion by a glitter of +her eyes and teeth, whilst her schoolfellows, rather disapproving of her +freedom, stood stiffly dumb. "He told Miss Wilson that he had a sister, +and that he had been to church last Sunday, and he has just told you +that he is a foundling, and that he only came last Wednesday. His accent +is put on, and he can read, and I don't believe he is a workman at all. +Perhaps he is a burglar, come down to steal the college plate." + +"Agatha," said Miss Wilson gravely, "you must be very careful how you +say things of that kind." + +"But it is so obvious. His explanation about the umbrella was made up +to disarm suspicion. He handled it and leaned on it in a way that showed +how much more familiar it was to him than that new spade he was so +anxious about. And all his clothes are new." + +"True," said Fairholme, "but there is not much in all that. Workmen +nowadays ape gentlemen in everything. However, I will keep an eye on +him." + +"Oh, thank you so much," said Agatha. Fairholme, suspecting mockery, +frowned, and Miss Wilson looked severely at the mocker. Little more was +said, except as to the chances--manifestly small--of the rain ceasing, +until the tops of a cab, a decayed mourning coach, and three dripping +hats were seen over the hedge. Smilash sat on the box of the coach, +beside the driver. When it stopped, he alighted, re-entered the chalet +without speaking, came out with the umbrella, spread it above Miss +Wilson's head, and said: + +"Now, if your ladyship will come with me, I will see you dry into the +stray, and then I'll bring your honored nieces one by one." + +"I shall come last," said Miss Wilson, irritated by his assumption that +the party was a family one. "Gertrude, you had better go first." + +"Allow me," said Fairholme, stepping forward, and attempting to take the +umbrella. + +"Thank you, I shall not trouble you," she said frostily, and tripped +away over the oozing field with Smilash, who held the umbrella over her +with ostentatious solicitude. In the same manner he led the rest to the +vehicles, in which they packed themselves with some difficulty. Agatha, +who came last but one, gave him threepence. + +"You have a noble 'art and an expressive hi, Miss," he said, apparently +much moved. "Blessings on both! Blessings on both!" + +He went back for Jane, who slipped on the wet grass and fell. He had to +put forth his strength as he helped her to rise. "Hope you ain't sopped +up much of the rainfall, Miss," he said. "You are a fine young lady for +your age. Nigh on twelve stone, I should think." + +She reddened and hurried to the cab, where Agatha was. But it was full; +and Jane, much against her will, had to get into the coach, considerably +diminishing the space left for Miss Wilson, to whom Smilash had +returned. + +"Now, dear lady," he said, "take care you don't slip. Come along." + +Miss Wilson, ignoring the invitation, took a shilling from her purse. + +"No, lady," said Smilash with a virtuous air. "I am an honest man and +have never seen the inside of a jail except four times, and only twice +for stealing. Your youngest daughter--her with the expressive hi--have +paid me far beyond what is proper." + +"I have told you that these young ladies are not my daughters," said +Miss Wilson sharply. "Why do you not listen to what is said to you?" + +"Don't be too hard on a common man, lady," said Smilash submissively. +"The young lady have just given me three 'arf-crowns." + +"Three half-crowns!" exclaimed Miss Wilson, angered at such +extravagance. + +"Bless her innocence, she don't know what is proper to give to a low +sort like me! But I will not rob the young lady. 'Arf-a-crown is no more +nor is fair for the job, and arf-a-crown will I keep, if agreeable to +your noble ladyship. But I give you back the five bob in trust for her. +Have you ever noticed her expressive hi?" + +"Nonsense, sir. You had better keep the money now that you have got it." + +"Wot! Sell for five bob the high opinion your ladyship has of me! No, +dear lady; not likely. My father's very last words to me was--" + +"You said just now that you were a foundling," said Fairholme. "What are +we to believe? Eh?" + +"So I were, sir; but by mother's side alone. Her ladyship will please to +take back the money, for keep it I will not. I am of the lower orders, +and therefore not a man of my word; but when I do stick to it, I stick +like wax." + +"Take it," said Fairholme to Miss Wilson. "Take it, of course. Seven and +sixpence is a ridiculous sum to give him for what he has done. It would +only set him drinking." + +"His reverence says true, lady. The one 'arfcrown will keep me +comfortably tight until Sunday morning; and more I do not desire." + +"Just a little less of your tongue, my man," said Fairholme, taking +the two coins from him and handing them to Miss Wilson, who bade the +clergymen good afternoon, and went to the coach under the umbrella. + +"If your ladyship should want a handy man to do an odd job up at the +college I hope you will remember me," Smilash said as they went down the +slope. + +"Oh, you know who I am, do you?" said Miss Wilson drily. + +"All the country knows you, Miss, and worships you. I have few equals as +a coiner, and if you should require a medal struck to give away for good +behavior or the like, I think I could strike one to your satisfaction. +And if your ladyship should want a trifle of smuggled lace--" + +"You had better be careful or you will get into trouble, I think," said +Miss Wilson sternly. "Tell him to drive on." + +The vehicles started, and Smilash took the liberty of waving his hat +after them. Then he returned to the chalet, left the umbrella within, +came out again, locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and walked +off through the rain across the hill without taking the least notice of +the astonished parsons. + +In the meantime Miss Wilson, unable to contain her annoyance at Agatha's +extravagance, spoke of it to the girls who shared the coach with her. +But Jane declared that Agatha only possessed threepence in the world, +and therefore could not possibly have given the man thirty times that +sum. When they reached the college, Agatha, confronted with Miss Wilson, +opened her eyes in wonder, and exclaimed, laughing: "I only gave him +threepence. He has sent me a present of four and ninepence!" + + + +CHAPTER IV + +Saturday at Alton College, nominally a half holiday, was really a whole +one. Classes in gymnastics, dancing, elocution, and drawing were held +in the morning. The afternoon was spent at lawn tennis, to which +lady guests resident in the neighborhood were allowed to bring their +husbands, brothers, and fathers--Miss Wilson being anxious to send +her pupils forth into the world free from the uncouth stiffness of +schoolgirls unaccustomed to society. + +Late in October came a Saturday which proved anything but a holiday +for Miss Wilson. At half-past one, luncheon being over, she went out of +doors to a lawn that lay between the southern side of the college and a +shrubbery. Here she found a group of girls watching Agatha and Jane, who +were dragging a roller over the grass. One of them, tossing a ball about +with her racket, happened to drive it into the shrubbery, whence, to the +surprise of the company, Smilash presently emerged, carrying the ball, +blinking, and proclaiming that, though a common man, he had his feelings +like another, and that his eye was neither a stick nor a stone. He +was dressed as before, but his garments, soiled with clay and lime, no +longer looked new. + +"What brings you here, pray?" demanded Miss Wilson. + +"I was led into the belief that you sent for me, lady," he replied. +"The baker's lad told me so as he passed my 'umble cot this morning. I +thought he were incapable of deceit." + +"That is quite right; I did send for you. But why did you not go round +to the servants' hall?" + +"I am at present in search of it, lady. I were looking for it when +this ball cotch me here" (touching his eye). "A cruel blow on the hi' +nat'rally spires its vision and expression and makes a honest man look +like a thief." + +"Agatha," said Miss Wilson, "come here." + +"My dooty to you, Miss," said Smilash, pulling his forelock. + +"This is the man from whom I had the five shillings, which he said you +had just given him. Did you do so?" + +"Certainly not. I only gave him threepence." + +"But I showed the money to your ladyship," said Smilash, twisting his +hat agitatedly. "I gev it you. Where would the like of me get five +shillings except by the bounty of the rich and noble? If the young +lady thinks I hadn't ort to have kep' the tother 'arfcrown, I would not +object to its bein' stopped from my wages if I were given a job of work +here. But--" + +"But it's nonsense," said Agatha. "I never gave you three half-crowns." + +"Perhaps you mout 'a' made a mistake. Pence is summat similar to +'arf-crowns, and the day were very dark." + +"I couldn't have," said Agatha. "Jane had my purse all the earlier +part of the week, Miss Wilson, and she can tell you that there was only +threepence in it. You know that I get my money on the first of every +month. It never lasts longer than a week. The idea of my having seven +and sixpence on the sixteenth is ridiculous." + +"But I put it to you, Miss, ain't it twice as ridiculous for me, a poor +laborer, to give up money wot I never got?" + +Vague alarm crept upon Agatha as the testimony of her senses was +contradicted. "All I know is," she protested, "that I did not give it to +you; so my pennies must have turned into half-crowns in your pocket." + +"Mebbe so," said Smilash gravely. "I've heard, and I know it for a fact, +that money grows in the pockets of the rich. Why not in the pockets of +the poor as well? Why should you be su'prised at wot 'appens every day?" + +"Had you any money of your own about you at the time?" + +"Where could the like of me get money?--asking pardon for making so bold +as to catechise your ladyship." + +"I don't know where you could get it," said Miss Wilson testily; "I ask +you, had you any?" + +"Well, lady, I disremember. I will not impose upon you. I disremember." + +"Then you've made a mistake," said Miss Wilson, handing him back his +money. "Here. If it is not yours, it is not ours; so you had better keep +it." + +"Keep it! Oh, lady, but this is the heighth of nobility! And what shall +I do to earn your bounty, lady?" + +"It is not my bounty: I give it to you because it does not belong to me, +and, I suppose, must belong to you. You seem to be a very simple man." + +"I thank your ladyship; I hope I am. Respecting the day's work, now, +lady; was you thinking of employing a poor man at all?" + +"No, thank you; I have no occasion for your services. I have also to +give you the shilling I promised you for getting the cabs. Here it is." + +"Another shillin'!" cried Smilash, stupefied. + +"Yes," said Miss Wilson, beginning to feel very angry. "Let me hear no +more about it, please. Don't you understand that you have earned it?" + +"I am a common man, and understand next to nothing," he replied +reverently. "But if your ladyship would give me a day's work to keep me +goin', I could put up all this money in a little wooden savings bank I +have at home, and keep it to spend when sickness or odd age shall, in a +manner of speaking, lay their 'ends upon me. I could smooth that grass +beautiful; them young ladies 'll strain themselves with that heavy +roller. If tennis is the word, I can put up nets fit to catch birds of +paradise in. If the courts is to be chalked out in white, I can draw a +line so straight that you could hardly keep yourself from erecting an +equilateral triangle on it. I am honest when well watched, and I can +wait at table equal to the Lord Mayor o' London's butler." + +"I cannot employ you without a character," said Miss Wilson, amused by +his scrap of Euclid, and wondering where he had picked it up. + +"I bear the best of characters, lady. The reverend rector has known me +from a boy." + +"I was speaking to him about you yesterday," said Miss Wilson, looking +hard at him, "and he says you are a perfect stranger to him." + +"Gentlemen is so forgetful," said Smilash sadly. "But I alluded to my +native rector--meaning the rector of my native village, Auburn. 'Sweet +Auburn, loveliest village of the plain,' as the gentleman called it." + +"That was not the name you mentioned to Mr. Fairholme. I do not +recollect what name you gave, but it was not Auburn, nor have I ever +heard of any such place." + +"Never read of sweet Auburn!" + +"Not in any geography or gazetteer. Do you recollect telling me that you +have been in prison?" + +"Only six times," pleaded Smilash, his features working convulsively. +"Don't bear too hard on a common man. Only six times, and all through +drink. But I have took the pledge, and kep' it faithful for eighteen +months past." + +Miss Wilson now set down the man as one of those keen, half-witted +country fellows, contemptuously styled originals, who unintentionally +make themselves popular by flattering the sense of sanity in those whose +faculties are better adapted to circumstances. + +"You have a bad memory, Mr. Smilash," she said good-humoredly. "You +never give the same account of yourself twice." + +"I am well aware that I do not express myself with exactability. Ladies +and gentlemen have that power over words that they can always say what +they mean, but a common man like me can't. Words don't come natural to +him. He has more thoughts than words, and what words he has don't fit +his thoughts. Might I take a turn with the roller, and make myself +useful about the place until nightfall, for ninepence?" + +Miss Wilson, who was expecting more than her usual Saturday visitors, +considered the proposition and assented. "And remember," she said, "that +as you are a stranger here, your character in Lyvern depends upon the +use you make of this opportunity." + +"I am grateful to your noble ladyship. May your ladyship's goodness sew +up the hole which is in the pocket where I carry my character, and which +has caused me to lose it so frequent. It's a bad place for men to keep +their characters in; but such is the fashion. And so hurray for the +glorious nineteenth century!" + +He took off his coat, seized the roller, and began to pull it with +an energy foreign to the measured millhorse manner of the accustomed +laborer. Miss Wilson looked doubtfully at him, but, being in haste, went +indoors without further comment. The girls mistrusting his eccentricity, +kept aloof. Agatha determined to have another and better look at him. +Racket in hand, she walked slowly across the grass and came close to him +just as he, unaware of her approach, uttered a groan of exhaustion and +sat down to rest. + +"Tired already, Mr. Smilash?" she said mockingly. + +He looked up deliberately, took off one of his washleather gloves, +fanned himself with it, displaying a white and fine hand, and at last +replied, in the tone and with the accent of a gentleman: + +"Very." + +Agatha recoiled. He fanned himself without the least concern. + +"You--you are not a laborer," she said at last. + +"Obviously not." + +"I thought not." + +He nodded. + +"Suppose I tell on you," she said, growing bolder as she recollected +that she was not alone with him. + +"If you do I shall get out of it just as I got out of the half-crowns, +and Miss Wilson will begin to think that you are mad." + +"Then I really did not give you the seven and sixpence," she said, +relieved. + +"What is your own opinion?" he answered, taking three pennies from his +pocket, jingling them in his palm. "What is your name?" + +"I shall not tell you," said Agatha with dignity. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps you are right," he said. "I would +not tell you mine if you asked me." + +"I have not the slightest intention of asking you." + +"No? Then Smilash shall do for you, and Agatha will do for me." + +"You had better take care." + +"Of what?" + +"Of what you say, and--are you not afraid of being found out?" + +"I am found out already--by you, and I am none the worse." + +"Suppose the police find you out!" + +"Not they. Besides, I am not hiding from the police. I have a right to +wear corduroy if I prefer it to broadcloth. Consider the advantages of +it! It has procured me admission to Alton College, and the pleasure of +your acquaintance. Will you excuse me if I go on with my rolling, just +to keep up appearances? I can talk as I roll." + +"You may, if you are fond of soliloquizing," she said, turning away as +he rose. + +"Seriously, Agatha, you must not tell the others about me." + +"Do not call me Agatha," she said impetuously. "What shall I call you, +then?" + +"You need not address me at all." + +"I need, and will. Don't be ill-natured." + +"But I don't know you. I wonder at your--" she hesitated at the word +which occurred to her, but, being unable to think of a better one, used +it--"at your cheek." + +He laughed, and she watched him take a couple of turns with the roller. +Presently, refreshing himself by a look at her, he caught her looking +at him, and smiled. His smile was commonplace in comparison with the +one she gave him in return, in which her eyes, her teeth, and the golden +grain in her complexion seemed to flash simultaneously. He stopped +rolling immediately, and rested his chin on the handle of the roller. + +"If you neglect your work," said she maliciously, "you won't have the +grass ready when the people come." + +"What people?" he said, taken aback. + +"Oh, lots of people. Most likely some who know you. There are visitors +coming from London: my guardian, my guardianess, their daughter, my +mother, and about a hundred more." + +"Four in all. What are they coming for? To see you?" + +"To take me away," she replied, watching for signs of disappointment on +his part. + +They were at once forthcoming. "What the deuce are they going to take +you away for?" he said. "Is your education finished?" + +"No. I have behaved badly, and I am going to be expelled." + +He laughed again. "Come!" he said, "you are beginning to invent in the +Smilash manner. What have you done?" + +"I don't see why I should tell you. What have you done?" + +"I! Oh, I have done nothing. I am only an unromantic gentleman, hiding +from a romantic lady who is in love with me." + +"Poor thing," said Agatha sarcastically. "Of course, she has proposed to +you, and you have refused." + +"On the contrary, I proposed, and she accepted. That is why I have to +hide." + +"You tell stories charmingly," said Agatha. "Good-bye. Here is Miss +Carpenter coming to hear what we are taking about." + +"Good-bye. That story of your being expelled beats--Might a common man +make so bold as to inquire where the whitening machine is, Miss?" + +This was addressed to Jane, who had come up with some of the others. +Agatha expected to see Smilash presently discovered, for his disguise +now seemed transparent; she wondered how the rest could be imposed on +by it. Two o'clock, striking just then, reminded her of the impending +interview with her guardian. A tremor shook her, and she felt a craving +for some solitary hiding-place in which to await the summons. But it +was a point of honor with her to appear perfectly indifferent to her +trouble, so she stayed with the girls, laughing and chatting as they +watched Smilash intently marking out the courts and setting up the nets. +She made the others laugh too, for her hidden excitement, sharpened by +irrepressible shootings of dread, stimulated her, and the romance of +Smilash's disguise gave her a sensation of dreaming. Her imagination was +already busy upon a drama, of which she was the heroine and Smilash +the hero, though, with the real man before her, she could not indulge +herself by attributing to him quite as much gloomy grandeur of character +as to a wholly ideal personage. The plot was simple, and an old favorite +with her. One of them was to love the other and to die broken-hearted +because the loved one would not requite the passion. For Agatha, +prompt to ridicule sentimentality in her companions, and gifted with an +infectious spirit of farce, secretly turned for imaginative luxury to +visions of despair and death; and often endured the mortification of the +successful clown who believes, whilst the public roar with laughter at +him, that he was born a tragedian. There was much in her nature, she +felt, that did not find expression in her popular representation of the +soldier in the chimney. + +By three o'clock the local visitors had arrived, and tennis was +proceeding in four courts, rolled and prepared by Smilash. The two +curates were there, with a few lay gentlemen. Mrs. Miller, the vicar, +and some mothers and other chaperons looked on and consumed light +refreshments, which were brought out upon trays by Smilash, who +had borrowed and put on a large white apron, and was making himself +officiously busy. + +At a quarter past the hour a message came from Miss Wilson, requesting +Miss Wylie's attendance. The visitors were at a loss to account for the +sudden distraction of the young ladies' attention which ensued. Jane +almost burst into tears, and answered Josephs rudely when he innocently +asked what the matter was. Agatha went away apparently unconcerned, +though her hand shook as she put aside her racket. + +In a spacious drawing-room at the north side of the college she found +her mother, a slight woman in widow's weeds, with faded brown hair, and +tearful eyes. With her were Mrs. Jansenius and her daughter. The two +elder ladies kept severely silent whilst Agatha kissed them, and Mrs. +Wylie sniffed. Henrietta embraced Agatha effusively. + +"Where's Uncle John?" said Agatha. "Hasn't he come?" + +"He is in the next room with Miss Wilson," said Mrs. Jansenius coldly. +"They want you in there." + +"I thought somebody was dead," said Agatha, "you all look so funereal. +Now, mamma, put your handkerchief back again. If you cry I will give +Miss Wilson a piece of my mind for worrying you." + +"No, no," said Mrs. Wylie, alarmed. "She has been so nice!" + +"So good!" said Henrietta. + +"She has been perfectly reasonable and kind," said Mrs. Jansenius. + +"She always is," said Agatha complacently. "You didn't expect to find +her in hysterics, did you?" + +"Agatha," pleaded Mrs. Wylie, "don't be headstrong and foolish." + +"Oh, she won't; I know she won't," said Henrietta coaxingly. "Will you, +dear Agatha?" + +"You may do as you like, as far as I am concerned," said Mrs. Jansenius. +"But I hope you have more sense than to throw away your education for +nothing." + +"Your aunt is quite right," said Mrs. Wylie. "And your Uncle John is +very angry with you. He will never speak to you again if you quarrel +with Miss Wilson." + +"He is not angry," said Henrietta, "but he is so anxious that you should +get on well." + +"He will naturally be disappointed if you persist in making a fool of +yourself," said Mrs. Jansenius. + +"All Miss Wilson wants is an apology for the dreadful things you wrote +in her book," said Mrs. Wylie. "You'll apologize, dear, won't you?" + +"Of course she will," said Henrietta. + +"I think you had better," said Mrs. Jansenius. + +"Perhaps I will," said Agatha. + +"That's my own darling," said Mrs. Wylie, catching her hand. + +"And perhaps, again, I won't." + +"You will, dear," urged Mrs. Wylie, trying to draw Agatha, who passively +resisted, closer to her. "For my sake. To oblige your mother, Agatha. +You won't refuse me, dearest?" + +Agatha laughed indulgently at her parent, who had long ago worn out this +form of appeal. Then she turned to Henrietta, and said, "How is your +caro sposo? I think it was hard that I was not a bridesmaid." + +The red in Henrietta's cheeks brightened. Mrs. Jansenius hastened to +interpose a dry reminder that Miss Wilson was waiting. + +"Oh, she does not mind waiting," said Agatha, "because she thinks you +are all at work getting me into a proper frame of mind. That was the +arrangement she made with you before she left the room. Mamma knows that +I have a little bird that tells me these things. I must say that you +have not made me feel any goody-goodier so far. However, as poor Uncle +John must be dreadfully frightened and uncomfortable, it is only kind to +put an end to his suspense. Good-bye!" And she went out leisurely. +But she looked in again to say in a low voice: "Prepare for something +thrilling. I feel just in the humor to say the most awful things." She +vanished, and immediately they heard her tapping at the door of the next +room. + +Mr. Jansenius was indeed awaiting her with misgiving. Having discovered +early in his career that his dignified person and fine voice caused +people to stand in some awe of him, and to move him into the chair +at public meetings, he had grown so accustomed to deference that any +approach to familiarity or irreverence disconcerted him exceedingly. +Agatha, on the other hand, having from her childhood heard Uncle John +quoted as wisdom and authority incarnate, had begun in her tender years +to scoff at him as a pompous and purseproud city merchant, whose +sordid mind was unable to cope with her transcendental affairs. She +had habitually terrified her mother by ridiculing him with an absolute +contempt of which only childhood and extreme ignorance are capable. She +had felt humiliated by his kindness to her (he was a generous giver +of presents), and, with the instinct of an anarchist, had taken +disparagement of his advice and defiance of his authority as the signs +wherefrom she might infer surely that her face was turned to the light. +The result was that he was a little tired of her without being quite +conscious of it; and she not at all afraid of him, and a little too +conscious of it. + +When she entered with her brightest smile in full play, Miss Wilson and +Mr. Jansenius, seated at the table, looked somewhat like two culprits +about to be indicted. Miss Wilson waited for him to speak, deferring to +his imposing presence. But he was not ready, so she invited Agatha to +sit down. + +"Thank you," said Agatha sweetly. "Well, Uncle John, don't you know me?" + +"I have heard with regret from Miss Wilson that you have been very +troublesome here," he said, ignoring her remark, though secretly put out +by it. + +"Yes," said Agatha contritely. "I am so very sorry." + +Mr. Jansenius, who had been led by Miss Wilson to expect the utmost +contumacy, looked to her in surprise. + +"You seem to think," said Miss Wilson, conscious of Mr. Jansenius's +movement, and annoyed by it, "that you may transgress over and over +again, and then set yourself right with us," (Miss Wilson never spoke of +offences as against her individual authority, but as against the school +community) "by saying that you are sorry. You spoke in a very different +tone at our last meeting." + +"I was angry then, Miss Wilson. And I thought I had a +grievance--everybody thinks they have the same one. Besides, we were +quarrelling--at least I was; and I always behave badly when I quarrel. I +am so very sorry." + +"The book was a serious matter," said Miss Wilson gravely. "You do not +seem to think so." + +"I understand Agatha to say that she is now sensible of the folly of her +conduct with regard to the book, and that she is sorry for it," said Mr. +Jansenius, instinctively inclining to Agatha's party as the stronger one +and the least dependent on him in a pecuniary sense. + +"Have you seen the book?" said Agatha eagerly. + +"No. Miss Wilson has described what has occurred." + +"Oh, do let me get it," she cried, rising. "It will make Uncle John +scream with laughing. May I, Miss Wilson?" + +"There!" said Miss Wilson, indignantly. "It is this incorrigible +flippancy of which I have to complain. Miss Wylie only varies it by +downright insubordination." + +Mr. Jansenius too was scandalized. His fine color mounted at the idea +of his screaming. "Tut, tut!" he said, "you must be serious, and more +respectful to Miss Wilson. You are old enough to know better now, +Agatha--quite old enough." + +Agatha's mirth vanished. "What have I said What have I done?" she asked, +a faint purple spot appearing in her cheeks. + +"You have spoken triflingly of--of the volume by which Miss Wilson sets +great store, and properly so." + +"If properly so, then why do you find fault with me?" + +"Come, come," roared Mr. Jansenius, deliberately losing his temper as a +last expedient to subdue her, "don't be impertinent, Miss." + +Agatha's eyes dilated; evanescent flushes played upon her cheeks and +neck; she stamped with her heel. "Uncle John," she cried, "if you dare +to address me like that, I will never look at you, never speak to you, +nor ever enter your house again. What do you know about good manners, +that you should call me impertinent? I will not submit to intentional +rudeness; that was the beginning of my quarrel with Miss Wilson. She +told me I was impertinent, and I went away and told her that she was +wrong by writing it in the fault book. She has been wrong all through, +and I would have said so before but that I wanted to be reconciled to +her and to let bygones be bygones. But if she insists on quarrelling, I +cannot help it." + +"I have already explained to you, Mr. Jansenius," said Miss Wilson, +concentrating her resentment by an effort to suppress it, "that Miss +Wylie has ignored all the opportunities that have been made for her to +reinstate herself here. Mrs. Miller and I have waived merely personal +considerations, and I have only required a simple acknowledgment of this +offence against the college and its rules." + +"I do not care that for Mrs. Miller," said Agatha, snapping her fingers. +"And you are not half so good as I thought." + +"Agatha," said Mr. Jansenius, "I desire you to hold your tongue." + +Agatha drew a deep breath, sat down resignedly, and said: "There! I have +done. I have lost my temper; so now we have all lost our tempers." + +"You have no right to lose your temper, Miss," said Mr. Jansenius, +following up a fancied advantage. + +"I am the youngest, and the least to blame," she replied. "There +is nothing further to be said, Mr. Jansenius," said Miss Wilson, +determinedly. "I am sorry that Miss Wylie has chosen to break with us." + +"But I have not chosen to break with you, and I think it very hard that +I am to be sent away. Nobody here has the least quarrel with me except +you and Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller is annoyed because she mistook me for +her cat, as if that was my fault! And really, Miss Wilson, I don't know +why you are so angry. All the girls will think I have done something +infamous if I am expelled. I ought to be let stay until the end of the +term; and as to the Rec--the fault book, you told me most particularly +when I first came that I might write in it or not just as I pleased, and +that you never dictated or interfered with what was written. And yet the +very first time I write a word you disapprove of, you expel me. Nobody +will ever believe now that the entries are voluntary." + +Miss Wilson's conscience, already smitten by the coarseness and absence +of moral force in the echo of her own "You are impertinent," from the +mouth of Mr. Jansenius, took fresh alarm. "The fault book," she said, +"is for the purpose of recording self-reproach alone, and is not a +vehicle for accusations against others." + +"I am quite sure that neither Jane nor Gertrude nor I reproached +ourselves in the least for going downstairs as we did, and yet you did +not blame us for entering that. Besides, the book represented moral +force--at least you always said so, and when you gave up moral force, +I thought an entry should be made of that. Of course I was in a rage at +the time, but when I came to myself I thought I had done right, and I +think so still, though it would perhaps have been better to have passed +it over." + +"Why do you say that I gave up moral force?" + +"Telling people to leave the room is not moral force. Calling them +impertinent is not moral force." + +"You think then that I am bound to listen patiently to whatever you +choose to say to me, however unbecoming it may be from one in your +position to one in mine?" + +"But I said nothing unbecoming," said Agatha. Then, breaking off +restlessly, and smiling again, she said: "Oh, don't let us argue. I +am very sorry, and very troublesome, and very fond of you and of the +college; and I won't come back next term unless you like." + +"Agatha," said Miss Wilson, shaken, "these expressions of regard cost +you so little, and when they have effected their purpose, are so +soon forgotten by you, that they have ceased to satisfy me. I am very +reluctant to insist on your leaving us at once. But as your uncle has +told you, you are old and sensible enough to know the difference between +order and disorder. Hitherto you have been on the side of disorder, an +element which was hardly known here until you came, as Mrs. Trefusis +can tell you. Nevertheless, if you will promise to be more careful in +future, I will waive all past cause of complaint, and at the end of the +term I shall be able to judge as to your continuing among us." + +Agatha rose, beaming. "Dear Miss Wilson," she said, "you are so good! I +promise, of course. I will go and tell mamma." + +Before they could add a word she had turned with a pirouette to the +door, and fled, presenting herself a moment later in the drawing-room to +the three ladies, whom she surveyed with a whimsical smile in silence. + +"Well?" said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily. + +"Well, dear?" said Mrs. Trefusis, caressingly. + +Mrs. Wylie stifled a sob and looked imploringly at her daughter. + +"I had no end of trouble in bringing them to reason," said Agatha, after +a provoking pause. "They behaved like children, and I was like an angel. +I am to stay, of course." + +"Blessings on you, my darling," faltered Mrs. Wylie, attempting a kiss, +which Agatha dexterously evaded. + +"I have promised to be very good, and studious, and quiet, and decorous +in future. Do you remember my castanet song, Hetty? + +"'Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! +lalalalalalalalalalala!'" + +And she danced about the room, snapping her fingers instead of +castanets. + +"Don't be so reckless and wicked, my love," said Mrs. Wylie. "You will +break your poor mother's heart." + +Miss Wilson and Mr. Jansenius entered just then, and Agatha became +motionless and gazed abstractedly at a vase of flowers. Miss Wilson +invited her visitors to join the tennis players. Mr. Jansenius looked +sternly and disappointedly at Agatha, who elevated her left eyebrow and +depressed her right simultaneously; but he, shaking his head to signify +that he was not to be conciliated by facial feats, however difficult +or contrary to nature, went out with Miss Wilson, followed by Mrs. +Jansenius and Mrs. Wylie. + +"How is your Hubby?" said Agatha then, brusquely, to Henrietta. + +Mrs. Trefusis's eyes filled with tears so quickly that, as she bent her +head to hide them, they fell, sprinkling Agatha's hand. + +"This is such a dear old place," she began. "The associations of my +girlhood--" + +"What is the matter between you and Hubby?" demanded Agatha, +interrupting her. "You had better tell me, or I will ask him when I meet +him." + +"I was about to tell you, only you did not give me time." + +"That is a most awful cram," said Agatha. "But no matter. Go on." + +Henrietta hesitated. Her dignity as a married woman, and the reality of +her grief, revolted against the shallow acuteness of the schoolgirl. But +she found herself no better able to resist Agatha's domineering than +she had been in her childhood, and much more desirous of obtaining her +sympathy. Besides, she had already learnt to tell the story herself +rather than leave its narration to others, whose accounts did not, +she felt, put her case in the proper light. So she told Agatha of her +marriage, her wild love for her husband, his wild love for her, and his +mysterious disappearance without leaving word or sign behind him. She +did not mention the letter. + +"Have you had him searched for?" said Agatha, repressing an inclination +to laugh. + +"But where? Had I the remotest clue, I would follow him barefoot to the +end of the world." + +"I think you ought to search all the rivers--you would have to do that +barefoot. He must have fallen in somewhere, or fallen down some place." + +"No, no. Do you think I should be here if I thought his life in danger? +I have reasons--I know that he is only gone away." + +"Oh, indeed! He took his portmanteau with him, did he? Perhaps he +has gone to Paris to buy you something nice and give you a pleasant +surprise." + +"No," said Henrietta dejectedly. "He knew that I wanted nothing." + +"Then I suppose he got tired of you and ran away." + +Henrietta's peculiar scarlet blush flowed rapidly over her cheeks as she +flung Agatha's arm away, exclaiming, "How dare you say so! You have no +heart. He adored me." + +"Bosh!" said Agatha. "People always grow tired of one another. I grow +tired of myself whenever I am left alone for ten minutes, and I am +certain that I am fonder of myself than anyone can be of another +person." + +"I know you are," said Henrietta, pained and spiteful. "You have always +been particularly fond of yourself." + +"Very likely he resembles me in that respect. In that case he will grow +tired of himself and come back, and you will both coo like turtle doves +until he runs away again. Ugh! Serve you right for getting married. I +wonder how people can be so mad as to do it, with the example of their +married acquaintances all warning them against it." + +"You don't know what it is to love," said Henrietta, plaintively, and +yet patronizingly. "Besides, we were not like other couples." + +"So it seems. But never mind, take my word for it, he will return to you +as soon as he has had enough of his own company. Don't worry thinking +about him, but come and have a game at lawn tennis." + +During this conversation they had left the drawing-room and made a +detour through the grounds. They were now approaching the tennis courts +by a path which wound between two laurel hedges through the shrubbery. +Meanwhile, Smilash, waiting on the guests in his white apron and gloves +(which he had positively refused to take off, alleging that he was a +common man, with common hands such as born ladies and gentlemen could +not be expected to take meat and drink from), had behaved himself +irreproachably until the arrival of Miss Wilson and her visitors, which +occurred as he was returning to the table with an empty tray, moving so +swiftly that he nearly came into collision with Mrs. Jansenius. Instead +of apologizing, he changed countenance, hastily held up the tray like a +shield before his face, and began to walk backward from her, stumbling +presently against Miss Lindsay, who was running to return a ball. +Without heeding her angry look and curt rebuke, he half turned, and +sidled away into the shrubbery, whence the tray presently rose into the +air, flew across the laurel hedge, and descended with a peal of stage +thunder on the stooped shoulders of Josephs. Miss Wilson, after asking +the housekeeper with some asperity why she had allowed that man to +interfere in the attendance, explained to the guests that he was the +idiot of the countryside. Mr. Jansenius laughed, and said that he had +not seen the man's face, but that his figure reminded him forcibly of +some one; he could not just then recollect exactly whom. + +Smilash, making off through the shrubbery, found the end of his path +blocked by Agatha and a young lady whose appearance alarmed him more +than had that of Mrs. Jansenius. He attempted to force his tray through +the hedge, but in vain; the laurel was impenetrable, and the noise +he made attracted the attention of the approaching couple. He made no +further effort to escape, but threw his borrowed apron over his head and +stood bolt upright with his back against the bushes. + +"What is that man doing there?" said Henrietta, stopping mistrustfully. + +Agatha laughed, and said loudly, so that he might hear: "It is only +a harmless madman that Miss Wilson employs. He is fond of disguising +himself in some silly way and trying to frighten us. Don't be afraid. +Come on." + +Henrietta hung back, but her arm was linked in Agatha's, and she was +drawn along in spite of herself. Smilash did not move. Agatha strolled +on coolly, and as she passed him, adroitly caught the apron between +her finger and thumb and twitched it from his face. Instantly Henrietta +uttered a piercing scream, and Smilash caught her in his arms. + +"Quick," he said to Agatha, "she is fainting. Run for some water. +Run!" And he bent over Henrietta, who clung to him frantically. Agatha, +bewildered by the effect of her practical joke, hesitated a moment, and +then ran to the lawn. + +"What is the matter?" said Fairholme. + +"Nothing. I want some water--quick, please. Henrietta has fainted in the +shrubbery, that is all." + +"Please do not stir," said Miss Wilson authoritatively, "you will crowd +the path and delay useful assistance. Miss Ward, kindly get some water +and bring it to us. Agatha, come with me and point out where Mrs. +Trefusis is. You may come too, Miss Carpenter; you are so strong. The +rest will please remain where they are." + +Followed by the two girls, she hurried into the shrubbery, where Mr. +Jansenius was already looking anxiously for his daughter. He was the +only person they found there. Smilash and Henrietta were gone. + +At first the seekers, merely puzzled, did nothing but question Agatha +incredulously as to the exact spot on which Henrietta had fallen. But +Mr. Jansenius soon made them understand that the position of a lady +in the hands of a half-witted laborer was one of danger. His agitation +infected them, and when Agatha endeavored to reassure him by declaring +that Smilash was a disguised gentleman, Miss Wilson, supposing this to +be a mere repetition of her former idle conjecture, told her sharply to +hold her tongue, as the time was not one for talking nonsense. The news +now spread through the whole company, and the excitement became intense. +Fairholme shouted for volunteers to make up a searching party. All the +men present responded, and they were about to rush to the college gates +in a body when it Occurred to the cooler among them that they had better +divide into several parties, in order that search might be made at once +in different quarters. Ten minutes of confusion followed. Mr. Jansenius +started several times in quest of Henrietta, and, when he had gone a few +steps, returned and begged that no more time should be wasted. Josephs, +whose faith was simple, retired to pray, and did good, as far as it +went, by withdrawing one voice from the din of plans, objections, and +suggestions which the rest were making; each person trying to be heard +above the others. + +At last Miss Wilson quelled the prevailing anarchy. Servants were sent +to alarm the neighbors and call in the village police. Detachments were +sent in various directions under the command of Fairholme and other +energetic spirits. The girls formed parties among themselves, which were +reinforced by male deserters from the previous levies. Miss Wilson then +went indoors and conducted a search through the interior of the college. +Only two persons were left on the tennis ground--Agatha and Mrs. +Jansenius, who had been surprisingly calm throughout. + +"You need not be anxious," said Agatha, who had been standing aloof +since her rebuff by Miss Wilson. "I am sure there is no danger. It is +most extraordinary that they have gone away; but the man is no more mad +than I am, and I know he is a gentleman He told me so." + +"Let us hope for the best," said Mrs. Jansenius, smoothly. "I think +I will sit down--I feel so tired. Thanks." (Agatha had handed her a +chair.) "What did you say he told you--this man?" + +Agatha related the circumstances of her acquaintance with Smilash, +adding, at Mrs. Jansenius's request, a minute description of his +personal appearance. Mrs. Jansenius remarked that it was very singular, +and that she was sure Henrietta was quite safe. She then partook of +claret-cup and sandwiches. Agatha, though glad to find someone disposed +to listen to her, was puzzled by her aunt's coolness, and was even +goaded into pointing out that though Smilash was not a laborer, it did +not follow that he was an honest man. But Mrs. Jansenius only said: "Oh, +she is safe--quite safe! At least, of course, I can only hope so. We +shall have news presently," and took another sandwich. + +The searchers soon began to return, baffled. A few shepherds, the only +persons in the vicinity, had been asked whether they had seen a young +lady and a laborer. Some of them had seen a young woman with a basket of +clothes, if that mout be her. Some thought that Phil Martin the +carrier would see her if anybody would. None of them had any positive +information to give. + +As the afternoon wore on, and party after party returned tired and +unsuccessful, depression replaced excitement; conversation, no longer +tumultuous, was carried on in whispers, and some of the local visitors +slipped away to their homes with a growing conviction that something +unpleasant had happened, and that it would be as well not to be mixed up +in it. Mr. Jansenius, though a few words from his wife had surprised and +somewhat calmed him, was still pitiably restless and uneasy. + +At last the police arrived. At sight of their uniforms excitement +revived; there was a general conviction that something effectual would +be done now. But the constables were only mortal, and in a few moments a +whisper spread that they were fooled. They doubted everything told them, +and expressed their contempt for amateur searching by entering on +a fresh investigation, prying with the greatest care into the least +probable places. Two of them went off to the chalet to look for Smilash. +Then Fairholme, sunburnt, perspiring, and dusty, but still energetic, +brought back the exhausted remnant of his party, with a sullen boy, who +scowled defiantly at the police, evidently believing that he was about +to be delivered into their custody. + +Fairholme had been everywhere, and, having seen nothing of the missing +pair, had come to the conclusion that they were nowhere. He had asked +everybody for information, and had let them know that he meant to have +it too, if it was to be had. But it was not to be had. The sole resort +of his labor was the evidence of the boy whom he didn't believe. + +"'Im!" said the inspector, not quite pleased by Fairholme's zeal, and +yet overborne by it. "You're Wickens's boy, ain't you?" + +"Yes, I am Wickens's boy," said the witness, partly fierce, partly +lachrymose, "and I say I seen him, and if anyone sez I didn't see him, +he's a lie." + +"Come," said the inspector sharply, "give us none of your cheek, but +tell us what you saw, or you'll have to deal with me afterwards." + +"I don't care who I deal with," said the boy, at bay. "I can't be took +for seein' him, because there's no lor agin it. I was in the gravel pit +in the canal meadow--" + +"What business had you there?" said the inspector, interrupting. + +"I got leave to be there," said the boy insolently, but reddening. + +"Who gave you leave?" said the inspector, collaring him. "Ah," he added, +as the captive burst into tears, "I told you you'd have to deal with me. +Now hold your noise, and remember where you are and who you're speakin' +to; and perhaps I mayn't lock you up this time. Tell me what you saw +when you were trespassin' in the meadow." + +"I sor a young 'omen and a man. And I see her kissin' him; and the +gentleman won't believe me." + +"You mean you saw him kissing her, more likely." + +"No, I don't. I know wot it is to have a girl kiss you when you don't +want. And I gev a screech to friken 'em. And he called me and gev me +tuppence, and sez, 'You go to the devil,' he sez, 'and don't tell no one +you seen me here, or else,' he sez, 'I might be tempted to drownd you,' +he sez, 'and wot a shock that would be to your parents!' 'Oh, yes, very +likely,' I sez, jes' like that. Then I went away, because he knows Mr. +Wickens, and I was afeerd of his telling on me." + +The boy being now subdued, questions were put to him from all sides. +But his powers of observation and description went no further. As he was +anxious to propitiate his captors, he answered as often as possible in +the affirmative. Mr. Jansenius asked him whether the young woman he had +seen was a lady, and he said yes. Was the man a laborer? Yes--after a +moment's hesitation. How was she dressed? He hadn't taken notice. Had +she red flowers in her hat? Yes. Had she a green dress? Yes. Were the +flowers in her hat yellow? (Agatha's question.) Yes. Was her dress pink? +Yes. Sure it wasn't black? No answer. + +"I told you he was a liar," said Fairholme contemptuously. + +"Well, I expect he's seen something," said the inspector, "but what it +was, or who it was, is more than I can get out of him." + +There was a pause, and they looked askance upon Wickens's boy. His +account of the kissing made it almost an insult to the Janseniuses to +identify with Henrietta the person he had seen. Jane suggested dragging +the canal, but was silenced by an indignant "sh-sh-sh," accompanied by +apprehensive and sympathetic glances at the bereaved parents. She was +displaced from the focus of attention by the appearance of the two +policemen who had been sent to the chalet. Smilash was between them, +apparently a prisoner. At a distance, he seemed to have suffered some +frightful injury to his head, but when he was brought into the midst of +the company it appeared that he had twisted a red handkerchief about +his face as if to soothe a toothache. He had a particularly hangdog +expression as he stood before the inspector with his head bowed and his +countenance averted from Mr. Jansenius, who, attempting to scrutinize +his features, could see nothing but a patch of red handkerchief. + +One of the policemen described how they had found Smilash in the act of +entering his dwelling; how he had refused to give any information or +to go to the college, and had defied them to take him there against his +will; and how, on their at last proposing to send for the inspector +and Mr. Jansenius, he had called them asses, and consented to accompany +them. The policeman concluded by declaring that the man was either drunk +or designing, as he could not or would not speak sensibly. + +"Look here, governor," began Smilash to the inspector, "I am a common +man--no commoner goin', as you may see for--" + +"That's 'im," cried Wickens's boy, suddenly struck with a sense of his +own importance as a witness. "That's 'im that the lady kissed, and that +gev me tuppence and threatened to drownd me." + +"And with a 'umble and contrite 'art do I regret that I did not drownd +you, you young rascal," said Smilash. "It ain't manners to interrupt a +man who, though common, might be your father for years and wisdom." + +"Hold your tongue," said the inspector to the boy. "Now, Smilash, do you +wish to make any statement? Be careful, for whatever you say may be used +against you hereafter." + +"If you was to lead me straight away to the scaffold, colonel, I could +tell you no more than the truth. If any man can say that he has heard +Jeff Smilash tell a lie, let him stand forth." + +"We don't want to hear about that," said the inspector. "As you are a +stranger in these parts, nobody here knows any bad of you. No more do +they know any good of you neither." + +"Colonel," said Smilash, deeply impressed, "you have a penetrating mind, +and you know a bad character at sight. Not to deceive you, I am that +given to lying, and laziness, and self-indulgence of all sorts, that the +only excuse I can find for myself is that it is the nature of the race +so to be; for most men is just as bad as me, and some of 'em worsen I do +not speak pers'nal to you, governor, nor to the honorable gentlemen here +assembled. But then you, colonel, are a hinspector of police, which +I take to be more than merely human; and as to the gentlemen here, a +gentleman ain't a man--leastways not a common man--the common man bein' +but the slave wot feeds and clothes the gentleman beyond the common." + +"Come," said the inspector, unable to follow these observations, "you +are a clever dodger, but you can't dodge me. Have you any statement to +make with reference to the lady that was last seen in your company?" + +"Take a statement about a lady!" said Smilash indignantly. "Far be the +thought from my mind!" + +"What have you done with her?" said Agatha, impetuously. "Don't be +silly." + +"You're not bound to answer that, you know," said the inspector, +a little put out by Agatha's taking advantage of her irresponsible +unofficial position to come so directly to the point. "You may if you +like, though. If you've done any harm, you'd better hold your tongue. If +not, you'd better say so." + +"I will set the young lady's mind at rest respecting her honorable +sister," said Smilash. "When the young lady caught sight of me she +fainted. Bein' but a young man, and not used to ladies, I will not deny +but that I were a bit scared, and that my mind were not open to the +sensiblest considerations. When she unveils her orbs, so to speak, she +ketches me round the neck, not knowin' me from Adam the father of us +all, and sez, 'Bring me some water, and don't let the girls see me.' +Through not 'avin' the intelligence to think for myself, I done just +what she told me. I ups with her in my arms--she bein' a light weight +and a slender figure--and makes for the canal as fast as I could. When I +got there, I lays her on the bank and goes for the water. But what +with factories, and pollutions, and high civilizations of one sort and +another, English canal water ain't fit to sprinkle on a lady, much less +for her to drink. Just then, as luck would have it, a barge came along +and took her aboard, and--" + +"To such a thing," said Wickens's boy stubbornly, emboldened by +witnessing the effrontery of one apparently of his own class. "I sor you +two standin' together, and her a kissin' of you. There worn's no barge." + +"Is the maiden modesty of a born lady to be disbelieved on the word of a +common boy that only walks the earth by the sufferance of the landlords +and moneylords he helps to feed?" cried Smilash indignantly. "Why, you +young infidel, a lady ain't made of common brick like you. She don't +know what a kiss means, and if she did, is it likely that she'd kiss +me when a fine man like the inspector here would be only too happy to +oblige her. Fie, for shame! The barge were red and yellow, with a green +dragon for a figurehead, and a white horse towin' of it. Perhaps you're +color-blind, and can't distinguish red and yellow. The bargee was moved +to compassion by the sight of the poor faintin' lady, and the offer of +'arf-a-crown, and he had a mother that acted as a mother should. There +was a cabin in that barge about as big as the locker where your ladyship +keeps your jam and pickles, and in that locker the bargee lives, quite +domestic, with his wife and mother and five children. Them canal boats +is what you may call the wooden walls of England." + +"Come, get on with your story," said the inspector. "We know what barges +is as well as you." + +"I wish more knew of 'em," retorted Smilash; "perhaps it 'ud lighten +your work a bit. However, as I was sayin', we went right down the canal +to Lyvern, where we got off, and the lady she took the railway omnibus +and went away in it. With the noble openhandedness of her class, she +gave me sixpence; here it is, in proof that my words is true. And I wish +her safe home, and if I was on the rack I could tell no more, except +that when I got back I were laid hands on by these here bobbies, +contrary to the British constitooshun, and if your ladyship will kindly +go to where that constitooshun is wrote down, and find out wot it sez +about my rights and liberties--for I have been told that the working-man +has his liberties, and have myself seen plenty took with him--you +will oblige a common chap more than his education will enable him to +express." + +"Sir," cried Mr. Jansenius suddenly, "will you hold up your head and +look me in the face?" + +Smilash did so, and immediately started theatrically, exclaiming, "Whom +do I see?" + +"You would hardly believe it," he continued, addressing the company at +large, "but I am well beknown to this honorable gentleman. I see it upon +your lips, governor, to ask after my missus, and I thank you for your +condescending interest. She is well, sir, and my residence here is +fully agreed upon between us. What little cloud may have rose upon our +domestic horizon has past away; and, governor,"---here Smilash's voice +fell with graver emphasis--"them as interferes betwixt man and wife now +will incur a heavy responsibility. Here I am, such as you see me, and +here I mean to stay, likewise such as you see me. That is, if what you +may call destiny permits. For destiny is a rum thing, governor. I came +here thinking it was the last place in the world I should ever set eyes +on you in, and blow me if you ain't a'most the first person I pops on." + +"I do not choose to be a party to this mummery of--" + +"Asking your leave to take the word out of your mouth, governor, I make +you a party to nothink. Respecting my past conduct, you may out with it +or you may keep it to yourself. All I say is that if you out with some +of it I will out with the rest. All or none. You are free to tell the +inspector here that I am a bad 'un. His penetrating mind have discovered +that already. But if you go into names and particulars, you will not +only be acting against the wishes of my missus, but you will lead to my +tellin' the whole story right out afore everyone here, and then goin' +away where no one won't never find me." + +"I think the less said the better," said Mrs. Jansenius, uneasily +observant of the curiosity and surprise this dialogue was causing. "But +understand this, Mr.--" + +"Smilash, dear lady; Jeff Smilash." + +"Mr. Smilash, whatever arrangement you may have made with your wife, it +has nothing to do with me. You have behaved infamously, and I desire +to have as little as possible to say to you in future! I desire to have +nothing to say to you--nothing," said Mr. Jansenius. "I look on your +conduct as an insult to me, personally. You may live in any fashion +you please, and where you please. All England is open to you except one +place--my house. Come, Ruth." He offered his arm to his wife; she took +it, and they turned away, looking about for Agatha, who, disgusted at +the gaping curiosity of the rest, had pointedly withdrawn beyond earshot +of the conversation. + +Miss Wilson looked from Smilash--who had watched Mr. Jansenius's +explosion of wrath with friendly interest, as if it concerned him as a +curious spectator only--to her two visitors as they retreated. "Pray, do +you consider this man's statement satisfactory?" she said to them. "I do +not." + +"I am far too common a man to be able to make any statement that could +satisfy a mind cultivated as yours has been," said Smilash, "but I would +'umbly pint out to you that there is a boy yonder with a telegram trying +to shove hisself through the 'iborn throng." + +"Miss Wilson!" cried the boy shrilly. + +She took the telegram; read it; and frowned. "We have had all our +trouble for nothing, ladies and gentlemen," she said, with suppressed +vexation. "Mrs. Trefusis says here that she has gone back to London. She +has not considered it necessary to add any explanation." + +There was a general murmur of disappointment. + +"Don't lose heart, ladies," said Smilash. "She may be drowned or +murdered for all we know. Anyone may send a telegram in a false name. +Perhaps it's a plant. Let's hope for your sakes that some little +accident--on the railway, for instance--may happen yet." + +Miss Wilson turned upon him, glad to find someone with whom she might +justly be angry. "You had better go about your business," she said. "And +don't let me see you here again." + +"This is 'ard," said Smilash plaintively. "My intentions was nothing but +good. But I know wot it is. It's that young varmint a-saying that the +young lady kissed me." + +"Inspector," said Miss Wilson, "will you oblige me by seeing that he +leaves the college as soon as possible?" + +"Where's my wages?" he retorted reproachfully. "Where's my lawful wages? +I am su'prised at a lady like you, chock full o' moral science and +political economy, wanting to put a poor man off. Where's your wages +fund? Where's your remuneratory capital?" + +"Don't you give him anything, ma'am," said the inspector. "The money +he's had from the lady will pay him very well. Move on here, or we'll +precious soon hurry you." + +"Very well," grumbled Smilash. "I bargained for ninepence, and what with +the roller, and opening the soda water, and shoving them heavy tables +about, there was a decomposition of tissue in me to the tune of two +shillings. But all I ask is the ninepence, and let the lady keep the one +and threppence as the reward of abstinence. Exploitation of labor at +the rate of a hundred and twenty-five per cent., that is. Come, give us +ninepence, and I'll go straight off." + +"Here is a shilling," said Miss Wilson. "Now go." + +"Threppence change!" cried Smilash. "Honesty has ever been--" + +"You may keep the change." + +"You have a noble 'art, lady; but you're flying in the face of the law +of supply and demand. If you keep payin' at this rate, there'll be a +rush of laborers to the college, and competition'll soon bring you down +from a shilling to sixpence, let alone ninepence. That's the way wages +go down and death rates goes up, worse luck for the likes of hus, as has +to sell ourselves like pigs in the market." + +He was about to continue when the policeman took him by the arm, turned +him towards the gate, and pointed expressively in that direction. +Smilash looked vacantly at him for a moment. Then, with a wink at +Fairholme, he walked gravely away, amid general staring and silence. + + + +CHAPTER V + +What had passed between Smilash and Henrietta remained unknown except to +themselves. Agatha had seen Henrietta clasping his neck in her arms, +but had not waited to hear the exclamation of "Sidney, Sidney," which +followed, nor to see him press her face to his breast in his anxiety to +stifle her voice as he said, "My darling love, don't screech I implore +you. Confound it, we shall have the whole pack here in a moment. Hush!" + +"Don't leave me again, Sidney," she entreated, clinging faster to him +as his perplexed gaze, wandering towards the entrance to the shrubbery, +seemed to forsake her. A din of voices in that direction precipitated +his irresolution. + +"We must run away, Hetty," he said "Hold fast about my neck, and don't +strangle me. Now then." He lifted her upon his shoulder and ran swiftly +through the grounds. When they were stopped by the wall, he placed her +atop of it, scrabbled over, and made her jump into his arms. Then he +staggered away with her across the fields, gasping out in reply to +the inarticulate remonstrances which burst from her as he stumbled and +reeled at every hillock, "Your weight is increasing at the rate of a +stone a second, my love. If you stoop you will break my back. Oh, Lord, +here's a ditch!" + +"Let me down," screamed Henrietta in an ecstasy of delight and +apprehension. "You will hurt yourself, and--Oh, DO take--" + +He struggled through a dry ditch as she spoke, and came out upon a +grassy place that bordered the towpath of the canal. Here, on the +bank of a hollow where the moss was dry and soft, he seated her, threw +himself prone on his elbows before her, and said, panting: + +"Nessus carrying off Dejanira was nothing to this! Whew! Well, my +darling, are you glad to see me?" + +"But--" + +"But me no buts, unless you wish me to vanish again and for ever. Wretch +that I am, I have longed for you unspeakably more than once since I ran +away from you. You didn't care, of course?" + +"I did. I did, indeed. Why did you leave me, Sidney?" + +"Lest a worse thing might befall. Come, don't let us waste in +explanations the few minutes we have left. Give me a kiss." + +"Then you are going to leave me again. Oh, Sidney--" + +"Never mind to-morrow, Hetty. Be like the sun and the meadow, which are +not in the least concerned about the coming winter. Why do you stare +at that cursed canal, blindly dragging its load of filth from place to +place until it pitches it into the sea--just as a crowded street pitches +its load into the cemetery? Stare at ME, and give me a kiss." + +She gave him several, and said coaxingly, with her arm still upon his +shoulder: "You only talk that way to frighten me, Sidney; I know you +do." + +"You are the bright sun of my senses," he said, embracing her. "I feel +my heart and brain wither in your smile, and I fling them to you for +your prey with exultation. How happy I am to have a wife who does not +despise me for doing so--who rather loves me the more!" + +"Don't be silly," said Henrietta, smiling vacantly. Then, stung by a +half intuition of his meaning, she repulsed him and said angrily, "YOU +despise ME." + +"Not more than I despise myself. Indeed, not so much; for many emotions +that seem base from within seem lovable from without." + +"You intend to leave me again. I feel it. I know it." + +"You think you know it because you feel it. Not a bad reason, either." + +"Then you ARE going to leave me?" + +"Do you not feel it and know it? Yes, my cherished Hetty, I assuredly +am." + +She broke into wild exclamations of grief, and he drew her head down and +kissed her with a tender action which she could not resist, and a wry +face which she did not see. + +"My poor Hetty, you don't understand me." + +"I only understand that you hate me, and want to go away from me." + +"That would be easy to understand. But the strangeness is that I LOVE +you and want to go away from you. Not for ever. Only for a time." + +"But I don't want you to go away. I won't let you go away," she said, +a trace of fierceness mingling with her entreaty. "Why do you want to +leave me if you love me?" + +"How do I know? I can no more tell you the whys and wherefores of myself +than I can lift myself up by the waistband and carry myself into the +next county, as some one challenged a speculator in perpetual motion to +do. I am too much a pessimist to respect my own affections. Do you know +what a pessimist is?" + +"A man who thinks everybody as nasty as himself, and hates them for it." + +"So, or thereabout. Modern English polite society, my native sphere, +seems to me as corrupt as consciousness of culture and absence of +honesty can make it. A canting, lie-loving, fact-hating, scribbling, +chattering, wealth-hunting, pleasure-hunting, celebrity-hunting mob, +that, having lost the fear of hell, and not replaced it by the love of +justice, cares for nothing but the lion's share of the wealth wrung by +threat of starvation from the hands of the classes that create it. If +you interrupt me with a silly speech, Hetty, I will pitch you into the +canal, and die of sorrow for my lost love afterwards. You know what I +am, according to the conventional description: a gentleman with lots of +money. Do you know the wicked origin of that money and gentility?" + +"Oh, Sidney; have you been doing anything?" + +"No, my best beloved; I am a gentleman, and have been doing nothing. +That a man can do so and not starve is nowadays not even a paradox. +Every halfpenny I possess is stolen money; but it has been stolen +legally, and, what is of some practical importance to you, I have no +means of restoring it to the rightful owners even if I felt inclined to. +Do you know what my father was?" + +"What difference can that make now? Don't be disagreeable and full of +ridiculous fads, Sidney dear. I didn't marry your father." + +"No; but you married--only incidentally, of course--my father's fortune. +That necklace of yours was purchased with his money; and I can almost +fancy stains of blood." + +"Stop, Sidney. I don't like this sort of romancing. It's all nonsense. +DO be nice to me." + +"There are stains of sweat on it, I know." + +"You nasty wretch!" + +"I am thinking, not of you, my dainty one, but of the unfortunate people +who slave that we may live idly. Let me explain to you why we are so +rich. My father was a shrewd, energetic, and ambitious Manchester man, +who understood an exchange of any sort as a transaction by which one man +should lose and the other gain. He made it his object to make as many +exchanges as possible, and to be always the gaining party in them. I do +not know exactly what he was, for he was ashamed both of his antecedents +and of his relatives, from which I can only infer that they were honest, +and, therefore, unsuccessful people. However, he acquired some knowledge +of the cotton trade, saved some money, borrowed some more on the +security of his reputation for getting the better of other people in +business, and, as he accurately told me afterwards, started FOR HIMSELF. +He bought a factory and some raw cotton. Now you must know that a man, +by laboring some time on a piece of raw cotton, can turn it into a piece +of manufactured cotton fit for making into sheets and shifts and the +like. The manufactured cotton is more valuable than the raw cotton, +because the manufacture costs wear and tear of machinery, wear and tear +of the factory, rent of the ground upon which the factory is built, and +human labor, or wear and tear of live men, which has to be made good by +food, shelter, and rest. Do you understand that?" + +"We used to learn all about it at college. I don't see what it has to do +with us, since you are not in the cotton trade." + +"You learned as much as it was thought safe to teach you, no doubt; but +not quite all, I should think. When my father started for himself, there +were many men in Manchester who were willing to labor in this way, but +they had no factory to work in, no machinery to work with, and no raw +cotton to work on, simply because all this indispensable plant, and the +materials for producing a fresh supply of it, had been appropriated by +earlier comers. So they found themselves with gaping stomachs, shivering +limbs, and hungry wives and children, in a place called their own +country, in which, nevertheless, every scrap of ground and possible +source of subsistence was tightly locked up in the hands of others and +guarded by armed soldiers and policemen. In this helpless condition, the +poor devils were ready to beg for access to a factory and to raw cotton +on any conditions compatible with life. My father offered them the +use of his factory, his machines, and his raw cotton on the following +conditions: They were to work long and hard, early and late, to add +fresh value to his raw cotton by manufacturing it. Out of the value thus +created by them, they were to recoup him for what he supplied them with: +rent, shelter, gas, water, machinery, raw cotton--everything, and to pay +him for his own services as superintendent, manager, and salesman. So +far he asked nothing but just remuneration. But after this had been +paid, a balance due solely to their own labor remained. 'Out of this,' +said my father, 'you shall keep just enough to save you from starving, +and of the rest you shall make me a present to reward me for my virtue +in saving money. Such is the bargain I propose. It is, in my opinion, +fair and calculated to encourage thrifty habits. If it does not strike +you in that light, you can get a factory and raw cotton for yourselves; +you shall not use mine.' In other words, they might go to the devil and +starve--Hobson's choice!--for all the other factories were owned by men +who offered no better terms. The Manchesterians could not bear to starve +or to see their children starve, and so they accepted his terms and went +into the factory. The terms, you see, did not admit of their beginning +to save for themselves as he had done. Well, they created great wealth +by their labor, and lived on very little, so that the balance they gave +for nothing to my father was large. He bought more cotton, and more +machinery, and more factories with it; employed more men to make wealth +for him, and saw his fortune increase like a rolling snowball. He +prospered enormously, but the work men were no better off than at first, +and they dared not rebel and demand more of the money they had made, for +there were always plenty of starving wretches outside willing to take +their places on the old terms. Sometimes he met with a check, as, for +instance, when, in his eagerness to increase his store, he made the men +manufacture more cotton than the public needed; or when he could not get +enough of raw cotton, as happened during the Civil War in America. Then +he adapted himself to circumstances by turning away as many workmen as +he could not find customers or cotton for; and they, of course, starved +or subsisted on charity. During the war-time a big subscription was got +up for these poor wretches, and my father subscribed one hundred pounds, +in spite, he said, of his own great losses. Then he bought new machines; +and, as women and children could work these as well as men, and were +cheaper and more docile, he turned away about seventy out of every +hundred of his HANDS (so he called the men), and replaced them by their +wives and children, who made money for him faster than ever. By this +time he had long ago given up managing the factories, and paid clever +fellows who had no money of their own a few hundreds a year to do it for +him. He also purchased shares in other concerns conducted on the same +principle; pocketed dividends made in countries which he had never +visited by men whom he had never seen; bought a seat in Parliament from +a poor and corrupt constituency, and helped to preserve the laws by +which he had thriven. Afterwards, when his wealth grew famous, he had +less need to bribe; for modern men worship the rich as gods, and will +elect a man as one of their rulers for no other reason than that he is +a millionaire. He aped gentility, lived in a palace at Kensington, and +bought a part of Scotland to make a deer forest of. It is easy enough to +make a deer forest, as trees are not necessary there. You simply drive +off the peasants, destroy their houses, and make a desert of the land. +However, my father did not shoot much himself; he generally let the +forest out by the season to those who did. He purchased a wife of gentle +blood too, with the unsatisfactory result now before you. That is +how Jesse Trefusis, a poor Manchester bagman, contrived to be come a +plutocrat and gentleman of landed estate. And also how I, who never did +a stroke of work in my life, am overburdened with wealth; whilst the +children of the men who made that wealth are slaving as their fathers +slaved, or starving, or in the workhouse, or on the streets, or the +deuce knows where. What do you think of that, my love?" + +"What is the use of worrying about it, Sidney? It cannot be helped now. +Besides, if your father saved money, and the others were improvident, he +deserved to make a fortune." + +"Granted; but he didn't make a fortune. He took a fortune that others +made. At Cambridge they taught me that his profits were the reward of +abstinence--the abstinence which enabled him to save. That quieted my +conscience until I began to wonder why one man should make another pay +him for exercising one of the virtues. Then came the question: what did +my father abstain from? The workmen abstained from meat, drink, fresh +air, good clothes, decent lodging, holidays, money, the society of their +families, and pretty nearly everything that makes life worth living, +which was perhaps the reason why they usually died twenty years or so +sooner than people in our circumstances. Yet no one rewarded them for +their abstinence. The reward came to my father, who abstained from +none of these things, but indulged in them all to his heart's content. +Besides, if the money was the reward of abstinence, it seemed logical to +infer that he must abstain ten times as much when he had fifty thousand +a year as when he had only five thousand. Here was a problem for my +young mind. Required, something from which my father abstained and in +which his workmen exceeded, and which he abstained from more and more as +he grew richer and richer. The only thing that answered this description +was hard work, and as I never met a sane man willing to pay another for +idling, I began to see that these prodigious payments to my father were +extorted by force. To do him justice, he never boasted of abstinence. +He considered himself a hard-worked man, and claimed his fortune as the +reward of his risks, his calculations, his anxieties, and the journeys +he had to make at all seasons and at all hours. This comforted me +somewhat until it occurred to me that if he had lived a century earlier, +invested his money in a horse and a pair of pistols, and taken to the +road, his object--that of wresting from others the fruits of their labor +without rendering them an equivalent--would have been exactly the +same, and his risk far greater, for it would have included risk of +the gallows. Constant travelling with the constable at his heels, and +calculations of the chances of robbing the Dover mail, would have given +him his fill of activity and anxiety. On the whole, if Jesse Trefusis, +M.P., who died a millionaire in his palace at Kensington, had been a +highwayman, I could not more heartily loathe the social arrangements +that rendered such a career as his not only possible, but eminently +creditable to himself in the eyes of his fellows. Most men make it their +business to imitate him, hoping to become rich and idle on the same +terms. Therefore I turn my back on them. I cannot sit at their feasts +knowing how much they cost in human misery, and seeing how little they +produce of human happiness. What is your opinion, my treasure?" + +Henrietta seemed a little troubled. She smiled faintly, and said +caressingly, "It was not your fault, Sidney. _I_ don't blame you." + +"Immortal powers!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and appealing to +the skies, "here is a woman who believes that the only concern all +this causes me is whether she thinks any the worse of me personally on +account of it!" + +"No, no, Sidney. It is not I alone. Nobody thinks the worse of you for +it." + +"Quite so," he returned, in a polite frenzy. "Nobody sees any harm in +it. That is precisely the mischief of it." + +"Besides," she urged, "your mother belonged to one of the oldest +families in England." + +"And what more can man desire than wealth with descent from a county +family! Could a man be happier than I ought to be, sprung as I am from +monopolists of all the sources and instruments of production--of land on +the one side, and of machinery on the other? This very ground on which +we are resting was the property of my mother's father. At least the law +allowed him to use it as such. When he was a boy, there was a fairly +prosperous race of peasants settled here, tilling the soil, paying him +rent for permission to do so, and making enough out of it to satisfy +his large wants and their own narrow needs without working themselves to +death. But my grandfather was a shrewd man. He perceived that cows and +sheep produced more money by their meat and wool than peasants by their +husbandry. So he cleared the estate. That is, he drove the peasants from +their homes, as my father did afterwards in his Scotch deer forest. Or, +as his tombstone has it, he developed the resources of his country. I +don't know what became of the peasants; HE didn't know, and, I presume, +didn't care. I suppose the old ones went into the workhouse, and the +young ones crowded the towns, and worked for men like my father in +factories. Their places were taken by cattle, which paid for their food +so well that my grandfather, getting my father to take shares in the +enterprise, hired laborers on the Manchester terms to cut that canal for +him. When it was made, he took toll upon it; and his heirs still take +toll, and the sons of the navvies who dug it and of the engineer who +designed it pay the toll when they have occasion to travel by it, or +to purchase goods which have been conveyed along it. I remember my +grandfather well. He was a well-bred man, and a perfect gentleman in his +manners; but, on the whole, I think he was wickeder than my father, who, +after all, was caught in the wheels of a vicious system, and had either +to spoil others or be spoiled by them. But my grandfather--the old +rascal!--was in no such dilemma. Master as he was of his bit of merry +England, no man could have enslaved him, and he might at least have +lived and let live. My father followed his example in the matter of the +deer forest, but that was the climax of his wickedness, whereas it was +only the beginning of my grandfather's. Howbeit, whichever bears the +palm, there they were, the types after which we all strive." + +"Not all, Sidney. Not we two. I hate tradespeople and country squires. +We belong to the artistic and cultured classes, and we can keep aloof +from shopkeepers." + +"Living, meanwhile, at the rate of several thousand a year on rent and +interest. No, my dear, this is the way of those people who insist that +when they are in heaven they shall be spared the recollection of such a +place as hell, but are quite content that it shall exist outside their +consciousness. I respect my father more--I mean I despise him less--for +doing his own sweating and filching than I do the sensitive sluggards +and cowards who lent him their money to sweat and filch with, and asked +no questions provided the interest was paid punctually. And as to your +friends the artists, they are the worst of all." + +"Oh, Sidney, you are determined not to be pleased. Artists don't keep +factories." + +"No; but the factory is only a part of the machinery of the system. +Its basis is the tyranny of brain force, which, among civilized men, is +allowed to do what muscular force does among schoolboys and savages. The +schoolboy proposition is: 'I am stronger than you, therefore you shall +fag for me.' Its grown up form is: 'I am cleverer than you, therefore +you shall fag for me.' The state of things we produce by submitting to +this, bad enough even at first, becomes intolerable when the mediocre or +foolish descendants of the clever fellows claim to have inherited their +privileges. Now, no men are greater sticklers for the arbitrary dominion +of genius and talent than your artists. The great painter is not +satisfied with being sought after and admired because his hands can do +more than ordinary hands, which they truly can, but he wants to be fed +as if his stomach needed more food than ordinary stomachs, which it does +not. A day's work is a day's work, neither more nor less, and the man +who does it needs a day's sustenance, a night's repose, and due leisure, +whether he be painter or ploughman. But the rascal of a painter, +poet, novelist, or other voluptuary in labor, is not content with +his advantage in popular esteem over the ploughman; he also wants an +advantage in money, as if there were more hours in a day spent in the +studio or library than in the field; or as if he needed more food to +enable him to do his work than the ploughman to enable him to do his. He +talks of the higher quality of his work, as if the higher quality of it +were of his own making--as if it gave him a right to work less for his +neighbor than his neighbor works for him--as if the ploughman could not +do better without him than he without the ploughman--as if the value of +the most celebrated pictures has not been questioned more than that +of any straight furrow in the arable world--as if it did not take an +apprenticeship of as many years to train the hand and eye of a mason or +blacksmith as of an artist--as if, in short, the fellow were a god, as +canting brain worshippers have for years past been assuring him he is. +Artists are the high priests of the modern Moloch. Nine out of ten of +them are diseased creatures, just sane enough to trade on their own +neuroses. The only quality of theirs which extorts my respect is a +certain sublime selfishness which makes them willing to starve and to +let their families starve sooner than do any work they don't like." + +"INDEED you are quite wrong, Sidney. There was a girl at the Slade +school who supported her mother and two sisters by her drawing. Besides, +what can you do? People were made so." + +"Yes; I was made a landlord and capitalist by the folly of the people; +but they can unmake me if they will. Meanwhile I have absolutely no +means of escape from my position except by giving away my slaves to +fellows who will use them no better than I, and becoming a slave myself; +which, if you please, you shall not catch me doing in a hurry. No, my +beloved, I must keep my foot on their necks for your sake as well as for +my own. But you do not care about all this prosy stuff. I am consumed +with remorse for having bored my darling. You want to know why I am +living here like a hermit in a vulgar two-roomed hovel instead of +tasting the delights of London society with my beautiful and devoted +young wife." + +"But you don't intend to stay here, Sidney?" + +"Yes, I do; and I will tell you why. I am helping to liberate those +Manchester laborers who were my father's slaves. To bring that +about, their fellow slaves all over the world must unite in a vast +international association of men pledged to share the world's work +justly; to share the produce of the work justly; to yield not a +farthing--charity apart--to any full-grown and able-bodied idler +or malingerer, and to treat as vermin in the commonwealth persons +attempting to get more than their share of wealth or give less than +their share of work. This is a very difficult thing to accomplish, +because working-men, like the people called their betters, do not always +understand their own interests, and will often actually help their +oppressors to exterminate their saviours to the tune of 'Rule +Britannia,' or some such lying doggerel. We must educate them out of +that, and, meanwhile, push forward the international association +of laborers diligently. I am at present occupied in propagating its +principles. Capitalism, organized for repressive purposes under pretext +of governing the nation, would very soon stop the association if it +understood our aim, but it thinks that we are engaged in gunpowder plots +and conspiracies to assassinate crowned heads; and so, whilst the police +are blundering in search of evidence of these, our real work goes on +unmolested. Whether I am really advancing the cause is more than I can +say. I use heaps of postage stamps, pay the expenses of many indifferent +lecturers, defray the cost of printing reams of pamphlets and hand-bills +which hail the laborer flatteringly as the salt of the earth, write and +edit a little socialist journal, and do what lies in my power generally. +I had rather spend my ill-gotten wealth in this way than upon an +expensive house and a retinue of servants. And I prefer my corduroys and +my two-roomed chalet here to our pretty little house, and your pretty +little ways, and my pretty little neglect of the work that my heart is +set upon. Some day, perhaps, I will take a holiday; and then we shall +have a new honeymoon." + +For a moment Henrietta seemed about to cry. Suddenly she exclaimed +with enthusiasm: "I will stay with you, Sidney. I will share your work, +whatever it may be. I will dress as a dairymaid, and have a little pail +to carry milk in. The world is nothing to me except when you are with +me; and I should love to live here and sketch from nature." + +He blenched, and partially rose, unable to conceal his dismay. She, +resolved not to be cast off, seized him and clung to him. This was the +movement that excited the derision of Wickens's boy in the adjacent +gravel pit. Trefusis was glad of the interruption; and, when he gave +the boy twopence and bade him begone, half hoped that he would insist +on remaining. But though an obdurate boy on most occasions, he proved +complaisant on this, and withdrew to the high road, where he made over +one of his pennies to a phantom gambler, and tossed with him until +recalled from his dual state by the appearance of Fairholme's party. + +In the meantime, Henrietta urgently returned to her proposition. + +"We should be so happy," she said. "I would housekeep for you, and you +could work as much as you pleased. Our life would be a long idyll." + +"My love," he said, shaking his head as she looked beseechingly at him, +"I have too much Manchester cotton in my constitution for long idylls. +And the truth is, that the first condition of work with me is your +absence. When you are with me, I can do nothing but make love to you. +You bewitch me. When I escape from you for a moment, it is only to groan +remorsefully over the hours you have tempted me to waste and the energy +you have futilized." + +"If you won't live with me you had no right to marry me." + +"True. But that is neither your fault nor mine. We have found that +we love each other too much--that our intercourse hinders our +usefulness--and so we must part. Not for ever, my dear; only until you +have cares and business of your own to fill up your life and prevent you +from wasting mine." + +"I believe you are mad," she said petulantly. "The world is mad +nowadays, and is galloping to the deuce as fast as greed can goad it. I +merely stand out of the rush, not liking its destination. Here comes a +barge, the commander of which is devoted to me because he believes that +I am organizing a revolution for the abolition of lock dues and tolls. +We will go aboard and float down to Lyvern, whence you can return to +London. You had better telegraph from the junction to the college; +there must be a hue and cry out after us by this time. You shall have my +address, and we can write to one another or see one another whenever we +please. Or you can divorce me for deserting you." + +"You would like me to, I know," said Henrietta, sobbing. + +"I should die of despair, my darling," he said complacently. "Ship +aho-o-o-y! Stop crying, Hetty, for God's sake. You lacerate my very +soul." + +"Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-oy, master!" roared the bargee. + +"Good arternoon, sir," said a man who, with a short whip in his hand, +trudged beside the white horse that towed the barge. "Come up!" he added +malevolently to the horse. + +"I want to get on board, and go up to Lyvern with you," said Trefusis. +"He seems a well fed brute, that." + +"Better fed nor me," said the man. "You can't get the work out of a +hunderfed 'orse that you can out of a hunderfed man or woman. I've bin +in parts of England where women pulled the barges. They come cheaper nor +'orses, because it didn't cost nothing to get new ones when the old ones +we wore out." + +"Then why not employ them?" said Trefusis, with ironical gravity. "The +principle of buying laborforce in the cheapest market and selling its +product in the dearest has done much to make Englishmen--what they are." + +"The railway comp'nies keeps 'orspittles for the like of 'IM," said the +man, with a cunning laugh, indicating the horse by smacking him on the +belly with the butt of the whip. "If ever you try bein' a laborer in +earnest, governor, try it on four legs. You'll find it far preferable to +trying on two." + +"This man is one of my converts," said Trefusis apart to Henrietta. +"He told me the other day that since I set him thinking he never sees a +gentleman without feeling inclined to heave a brick at him. I find that +socialism is often misunderstood by its least intelligent supporters +and opponents to mean simply unrestrained indulgence of our natural +propensity to heave bricks at respectable persons. Now I am going to +carry you along this plank. If you keep quiet, we may reach the barge. +If not, we shall reach the bottom of the canal." + +He carried her safely over, and exchanged some friendly words with the +bargee. Then he took Henrietta forward, and stood watching the water +as they were borne along noiselessly between the hilly pastures of the +country. + +"This would be a fairy journey," he said, "if one could forget the woman +down below, cooking her husband's dinner in a stifling hole about as big +as your wardrobe, and--" + +"Oh, don't talk any more of these things," she said crossly; "I cannot +help them. I have my own troubles to think of. HER husband lives with +her." + +"She will change places with you, my dear, if you make her the offer." + +She had no answer ready. After a pause he began to speak poetically of +the scenery and to offer her loverlike speeches and compliments. But she +felt that he intended to get rid of her, and he knew that it was useless +to try to hide that design from her. She turned away and sat down on a +pile of bricks, only writhing angrily when he pressed her for a word. +As they neared the end of her voyage, and her intense protest against +desertion remained, as she thought, only half expressed, her sense of +injury grew almost unbearable. + +They landed on a wharf, and went through an unswept, deeply-rutted lane +up to the main street of Lyvern. Here he became Smilash again, walking +deferentially a little before her, as if she had hired him to point out +the way. She then saw that her last opportunity of appealing to him had +gone by, and she nearly burst into tears at the thought. It occurred to +her that she might prevail upon him by making a scene in public. But +the street was a busy one, and she was a little afraid of him. Neither +consideration would have checked her in one of her ungovernable moods, +but now she was in an abject one. Her moods seemed to come only when +they were harmful to her. She suffered herself to be put into the +railway omnibus, which was on the point of starting from the innyard +when they arrived there, and though he touched his hat, asked whether +she had any message to give him, and in a tender whisper wished her a +safe journey, she would not look at or speak to him. So they parted, +and he returned alone to the chalet, where he was received by the two +policemen who subsequently brought him to the college. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The year wore on, and the long winter evenings set in. The studious +young ladies at Alton College, elbows on desk and hands over ears, +shuddered chillily in fur tippets whilst they loaded their memories with +the statements of writers on moral science, or, like men who swim upon +corks, reasoned out mathematical problems upon postulates. Whence +it sometimes happened that the more reasonable a student was in +mathematics, the more unreasonable she was in the affairs of real life, +concerning which few trustworthy postulates have yet been ascertained. + +Agatha, not studious, and apt to shiver in winter, began to break Rule +No. 17 with increasing frequency. Rule No. 17 forbade the students +to enter the kitchen, or in any way to disturb the servants in the +discharge of their duties. Agatha broke it because she was fond of +making toffee, of eating it, of a good fire, of doing any forbidden +thing, and of the admiration with which the servants listened to her +ventriloquial and musical feats. Gertrude accompanied her because she +too liked toffee, and because she plumed herself on her condescension to +her inferiors. Jane went because her two friends went, and the spirit +of adventure, the force of example, and the love of toffee often brought +more volunteers to these expeditions than Agatha thought it safe to +enlist. One evening Miss Wilson, going downstairs alone to her private +wine cellar, was arrested near the kitchen by sounds of revelry, and, +stopping to listen, overheard the castanet dance (which reminded her of +the emphasis with which Agatha had snapped her fingers at Mrs. Miller), +the bee on the window pane, "Robin Adair" (encored by the servants), +and an imitation of herself in the act of appealing to Jane Carpenter's +better nature to induce her to study for the Cambridge Local. She waited +until the cold and her fear of being discovered spying forced her to +creep upstairs, ashamed of having enjoyed a silly entertainment, and of +conniving at a breach of the rules rather than face a fresh quarrel with +Agatha. + +There was one particular in which matters between Agatha and the college +discipline did not go on exactly as before. Although she had formerly +supplied a disproportionately large number of the confessions in the +fault book, the entry which had nearly led to her expulsion was the last +she ever made in it. Not that her conduct was better--it was rather the +reverse. Miss Wilson never mentioned the matter, the fault book being +sacred from all allusion on her part. But she saw that though Agatha +would not confess her own sins, she still assisted others to unburden +their consciences. The witticisms with which Jane unsuspectingly +enlivened the pages of the Recording Angel were conclusive on this +point. + +Smilash had now adopted a profession. In the last days of autumn he +had whitewashed the chalet, painted the doors, windows, and veranda, +repaired the roof and interior, and improved the place so much that the +landlord had warned him that the rent would be raised at the expiration +of his twelvemonth's tenancy, remarking that a tenant could not +reasonably expect to have a pretty, rain-tight dwelling-house for the +same money as a hardly habitable ruin. Smilash had immediately promised +to dilapidate it to its former state at the end of the year. He had +put up a board at the gate with an inscription copied from some printed +cards which he presented to persons who happened to converse with him. + + ***** + +JEFFERSON SMILASH + +PAINTER, DECORATOR, GLAZIER, PLUMBER & GARDENER. Pianofortes tuned. +Domestic engineering in all its Branches. Families waited upon at table +or otherwise. + +CHAMOUNIX VILLA, LYVERN. (N.B. Advice Gratis. No Reasonable offer +refused.) + + ***** + +The business thus announced, comprehensive as it was, did not +flourish. When asked by the curious for testimony to his competence and +respectability, he recklessly referred them to Fairholme, to Josephs, +and in particular to Miss Wilson, who, he said, had known him from his +earliest childhood. Fairholme, glad of an opportunity to show that he +was no mealy mouthed parson, declared, when applied to, that Smilash was +the greatest rogue in the country. Josephs, partly from benevolence, and +partly from a vague fear that Smilash might at any moment take an action +against him for defamation of character, said he had no doubt that he +was a very cheap workman, and that it would be a charity to give him +some little job to encourage him. Miss Wilson confirmed Fairholme's +account; and the church organist, who had tuned all the pianofortes +in the neighborhood once a year for nearly a quarter of a century, +denounced the newcomer as Jack of all trades and master of none. +Hereupon the radicals of Lyvern, a small and disreputable party, began +to assert that there was no harm in the man, and that the parsons and +Miss Wilson, who lived in a fine house and did nothing but take in the +daughters of rich swells as boarders, might employ their leisure better +than in taking the bread out of a poor work man's mouth. But as none of +this faction needed the services of a domestic engineer, he was none +the richer for their support, and the only patron he obtained was +a housemaid who was leaving her situation at a country house in the +vicinity, and wanted her box repaired, the lid having fallen off. +Smilash demanded half-a-crown for the job, but on her demurring, +immediately apologized and came down to a shilling. For this sum he +repainted the box, traced her initials on it, and affixed new hinges, +a Bramah lock, and brass handles, at a cost to himself of ten shillings +and several hours' labor. The housemaid found fault with the color of +the paint, made him take off the handles, which, she said, reminded her +of a coffin, complained that a lock with such a small key couldn't be +strong enough for a large box, but admitted that it was all her own +fault for not employing a proper man. It got about that he had made +a poor job of the box; and as he, when taxed with this, emphatically +confirmed it, he got no other commission; and his signboard served +thenceforth only for the amusement of pedestrian tourists and of +shepherd boys with a taste for stone throwing. + +One night a great storm blew over Lyvern, and those young ladies at +Alton College who were afraid of lightning, said their prayers with some +earnestness. At half-past twelve the rain, wind, and thunder made such +a din that Agatha and Gertrude wrapped themselves in shawls, stole +downstairs to the window on the landing outside Miss Wilson's study, +and stood watching the flashes give vivid glimpses of the landscape, and +discussing in whispers whether it was dangerous to stand near a window, +and whether brass stair-rods could attract lightning. Agatha, as +serious and friendly with a single companion as she was mischievous +and satirical before a larger audience, enjoyed the scene quietly. The +lightning did not terrify her, for she knew little of the value of life, +and fancied much concerning the heroism of being indifferent to it. The +tremors which the more startling flashes caused her, only made her more +conscious of her own courage and its contrast with the uneasiness of +Gertrude, who at last, shrinking from a forked zigzag of blue flame, +said: + +"Let us go back to bed, Agatha. I feel sure that we are not safe here." + +"Quite as safe as in bed, where we cannot see anything. How the house +shakes! I believe the rain will batter in the windows before--" + +"Hush," whispered Gertrude, catching her arm in terror. "What was that?" + +"What?" + +"I am sure I heard the bell--the gate bell. Oh, do let us go back to +bed." + +"Nonsense! Who would be out on such a night as this? Perhaps the wind +rang it." + +They waited for a few moments; Gertrude trembling, and Agatha feeling, +as she listened in the darkness, a sensation familiar to persons who are +afraid of ghosts. Presently a veiled clangor mingled with the wind. A +few sharp and urgent snatches of it came unmistakably from the bell at +the gate of the college grounds. It was a loud bell, used to summon +a servant from the college to open the gates; for though there was a +porter's lodge, it was uninhabited. + +"Who on earth can it be?" said Agatha. "Can't they find the wicket, the +idiots?" + +"Oh, I hope not! Do come upstairs, Agatha." + +"No, I won't. Go you, if you like." But Gertrude was afraid to go +alone. "I think I had better waken Miss Wilson, and tell her," continued +Agatha. "It seems awful to shut anybody out on such a night as this." + +"But we don't know who it is." + +"Well, I suppose you are not afraid of them, in any case," said Agatha, +knowing the contrary, but recognizing the convenience of shaming +Gertrude into silence. + +They listened again. The storm was now very boisterous, and they could +not hear the bell. Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the house door. +Gertrude screamed, and her cry was echoed from the rooms above, where +several girls had heard the knocking also, and had been driven by it +into the state of mind which accompanies the climax of a nightmare. Then +a candle flickered on the stairs, and Miss Wilson's voice, reassuringly +firm, was heard. + +"Who is that?" + +"It is I, Miss Wilson, and Gertrude. We have been watching the storm, +and there is some one knocking at the--" A tremendous battery with +the knocker, followed by a sound, confused by the gale, as of a man +shouting, interrupted her. + +"They had better not open the door," said Miss Wilson, in some alarm. +"You are very imprudent, Agatha, to stand here. You will catch your +death of--Dear me! What can be the matter? She hurried down, followed +by Agatha, Gertrude, and some of the braver students, to the hall, where +they found a few shivering servants watching the housekeeper, who was at +the keyhole of the house door, querulously asking who was there. She +was evidently not heard by those without, for the knocking recommenced +whilst she was speaking, and she recoiled as if she had received a blow +on the mouth. Miss Wilson then rattled the chain to attract attention, +and demanded again who was there. + +"Let us in," was returned in a hollow shout through the keyhole. "There +is a dying woman and three children here. Open the door." + +Miss Wilson lost her presence of mind. To gain time, she replied, "I--I +can't hear you. What do you say?" + +"Damnation!" said the voice, speaking this time to some one outside. +"They can't hear." And the knocking recommenced with increased urgency. +Agatha, excited, caught Miss Wilson's dressing gown, and repeated to her +what the voice had said. Miss Wilson had heard distinctly enough, and +she felt, without knowing clearly why, that the door must be opened, but +she was almost over-mastered by a vague dread of what was to follow. She +began to undo the chain, and Agatha helped with the bolts. Two of the +servants exclaimed that they were all about to be murdered in their +beds, and ran away. A few of the students seemed inclined to follow +their example. At last the door, loosed, was blown wide open, flinging +Miss Wilson and Agatha back, and admitting a whirlwind that tore round +the hall, snatched at the women's draperies, and blew out the lights. +Agatha, by a hash of lightning, saw for an instant two men straining at +the door like sailors at a capstan. Then she knew by the cessation of +the whirlwind that they had shut it. Matches were struck, the candles +relighted, and the newcomers clearly perceived. + +Smilash, bareheaded, without a coat, his corduroy vest and trousers +heavy with rain; a rough-looking, middle-aged man, poorly dressed like +a shepherd, wet as Smilash, with the expression, piteous, patient, and +desperate, of one hard driven by ill-fortune, and at the end of his +resources; two little children, a boy and a girl, almost naked, cowering +under an old sack that had served them as an umbrella; and, lying on +the settee where the two men had laid it, a heap of wretched wearing +apparel, sacking, and rotten matting, with Smilash's coat and +sou'wester, the whole covering a bundle which presently proved to be an +exhausted woman with a tiny infant at her breast. Smilash's expression, +as he looked at her, was ferocious. + +"Sorry fur to trouble you, lady," said the man, after glancing anxiously +at Smilash, as if he had expected him to act as spokesman; "but my roof +and the side of my house has gone in the storm, and my missus has been +having another little one, and I am sorry to ill-convenience you, Miss; +but--but--" + +"Inconvenience!" exclaimed Smilash. "It is the lady's privilege to +relieve you--her highest privilege!" + +The little boy here began to cry from mere misery, and the woman roused +herself to say, "For shame, Tom! before the lady," and then collapsed, +too weak to care for what might happen next in the world. Smilash looked +impatiently at Miss Wilson, who hesitated, and said to him: + +"What do you expect me to do?" + +"To help us," he replied. Then, with an explosion of nervous energy, +he added: "Do what your heart tells you to do. Give your bed and your +clothes to the woman, and let your girls pitch their books to the devil +for a few days and make something for these poor little creatures to +wear. The poor have worked hard enough to clothe THEM. Let them take +their turn now and clothe the poor." + +"No, no. Steady, master," said the man, stepping forward to propitiate +Miss Wilson, and evidently much oppressed by a sense of unwelcomeness. +"It ain't any fault of the lady's. Might I make so bold as to ask you +to put this woman of mine anywhere that may be convenient until morning. +Any sort of a place will do; she's accustomed to rough it. Just to have +a roof over her until I find a room in the village where we can shake +down." Here, led by his own words to contemplate the future, he looked +desolately round the cornice of the hall, as if it were a shelf on which +somebody might have left a suitable lodging for him. + +Miss Wilson turned her back decisively and contemptuously on Smilash. +She had recovered herself. "I will keep your wife here," she said to the +man. "Every care shall be taken of her. The children can stay too." + +"Three cheers for moral science!" cried Smilash, ecstatically breaking +into the outrageous dialect he had forgotten in his wrath. "Wot was my +words to you, neighbor, when I said we should bring your missus to the +college, and you said, ironical-like, 'Aye, and bloomin' glad they'll be +to see us there.' Did I not say to you that the lady had a noble 'art, +and would show it when put to the test by sech a calamity as this?" + +"Why should you bring my hasty words up again' me now, master, when the +lady has been so kind?" said the man with emotion. "I am humbly grateful +to you, Miss; and so is Bess. We are sensible of the ill-convenience +we--" + +Miss Wilson, who had been conferring with the housekeeper, cut his +speech short by ordering him to carry his wife to bed, which he did with +the assistance of Smilash, now jubilant. Whilst they were away, one +of the servants, bidden to bring some blankets to the woman's room, +refused, saying that she was not going to wait on that sort of people. +Miss Wilson gave her warning almost fiercely to quit the college next +day. This excepted, no ill-will was shown to the refugees. The young +ladies were then requested to return to bed. + +Meanwhile the man, having laid his wife in a chamber palatial in +comparison with that which the storm had blown about her ears, was +congratulating her on her luck, and threatening the children with the +most violent chastisement if they failed to behave themselves with +strict propriety whilst they remained in that house. Before leaving them +he kissed his wife; and she, reviving, asked him to look at the baby. +He did so, and pensively apostrophized it with a shocking epithet in +anticipation of the time when its appetite must be satisfied from the +provision shop instead of from its mother's breast. She laughed and +cried shame on him; and so they parted cheerfully. When he returned to +the hall with Smilash they found two mugs of beer waiting for them. The +girls had retired, and only Miss Wilson and the housekeeper remained. + +"Here's your health, mum," said the man, before drinking; "and may you +find such another as yourself to help you when you're in trouble, which +Lord send may never come!" + +"Is your house quite destroyed?" said Miss Wilson. "Where will you spend +the night?" + +"Don't you think of me, mum. Master Smilash here will kindly put me up +'til morning." + +"His health!" said Smilash, touching the mug with his lips. + +"The roof and south wall is browed right away," continued the man, +after pausing for a moment to puzzle over Smilash's meaning. "I doubt if +there's a stone of it standing by this." + +"But Sir John will build it for you again. You are one of his herds, are +you not?" + +"I am, Miss. But not he; he'll be glad it's down. He don't like people +livin' on the land. I have told him time and again that the place was +ready to fall; but he said I couldn't expect him to lay out money on a +house that he got no rent for. You see, Miss, I didn't pay any rent. I +took low wages; and the bit of a hut was a sort of set-off again' what I +was paid short of the other men. I couldn't afford to have it repaired, +though I did what I could to patch and prop it. And now most like I +shall be blamed for letting it be blew down, and shall have to live in +half a room in the town and pay two or three shillin's a week, besides +walkin' three miles to and from my work every day. A gentleman like Sir +John don't hardly know what the value of a penny is to us laborin' folk, +nor how cruel hard his estate rules and the like comes on us." + +"Sir John's health!" said Smilash, touching the mug as before. The man +drank a mouthful humbly, and Smilash continued, "Here's to the glorious +landed gentry of old England: bless 'em!" + +"Master Smilash is only jokin'," said the man apologetically. "It's his +way." + +"You should not bring a family into the world if you are so poor," said +Miss Wilson severely. "Can you not see that you impoverish yourself by +doing so--to put the matter on no higher grounds." + +"Reverend Mr. Malthus's health!" remarked Smilash, repeating his +pantomime. + +"Some say it's the children, and some say it's the drink, Miss," said +the man submissively. "But from what I see, family or no family, drunk +or sober, the poor gets poorer and the rich richer every day." + +"Ain't it disgustin' to hear a man so ignorant of the improvement in the +condition of his class?" said Smilash, appealing to Miss Wilson. + +"If you intend to take this man home with you," she said, turning +sharply on him, "you had better do it at once." + +"I take it kind on your part that you ask me to do anythink, after your +up and telling Mr. Wickens that I am the last person in Lyvern you would +trust with a job." + +"So you are--the very last. Why don't you drink your beer?" + +"Not in scorn of your brewing, lady; but because, bein' a common man, +water is good enough for me." + +"I wish you good-night, Miss," said the man; "and thank you kindly for +Bess and the children." + +"Good-night," she replied, stepping aside to avoid any salutation from +Smilash. But he went up to her and said in a low voice, and with the +Trefusis manner and accent: + +"Good-night, Miss Wilson. If you should ever be in want of the services +of a dog, a man, or a domestic engineer, remind Smilash of Bess and the +children, and he will act for you in any of those capacities." + +They opened the door cautiously, and found that the wind, conquered by +the rain, had abated. Miss Wilson's candle, though it flickered in the +draught, was not extinguished this time; and she was presently left with +the housekeeper, bolting and chaining the door, and listening to the +crunching of feet on the gravel outside dying away through the steady +pattering of the rain. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +Agatha was at this time in her seventeenth year. She had a lively +perception of the foibles of others, and no reverence for her +seniors, whom she thought dull, cautious, and ridiculously amenable by +commonplaces. But she was subject to the illusion which disables youth +in spite of its superiority to age. She thought herself an exception. +Crediting Mr. Jansenius and the general mob of mankind with nothing +but a grovelling consciousness of some few material facts, she felt +in herself an exquisite sense and all-embracing conception of nature, +shared only by her favorite poets and heroes of romance and history. +Hence she was in the common youthful case of being a much better judge +of other people's affairs than of her own. At the fellow-student who +adored some Henry or Augustus, not from the drivelling sentimentality +which the world calls love, but because this particular Henry or +Augustus was a phoenix to whom the laws that govern the relations of +ordinary lads and lasses did not apply, Agatha laughed in her sleeve. +The more she saw of this weakness in her fellows, the more satisfied she +was that, being forewarned, she was also forearmed against an attack of +it on herself, much as if a doctor were to conclude that he could not +catch smallpox because he had seen many cases of it; or as if a master +mariner, knowing that many ships are wrecked in the British channel, +should venture there without a pilot, thinking that he knew its perils +too well to run any risk of them. Yet, as the doctor might hold such +an opinion if he believed himself to be constituted differently from +ordinary men; or the shipmaster adopt such a course under the impression +that his vessel was a star, Agatha found false security in the +subjective difference between her fellows seen from without and herself +known from within. When, for instance, she fell in love with Mr. +Jefferson Smilash (a step upon which she resolved the day after the +storm), her imagination invested the pleasing emotion with a sacredness +which, to her, set it far apart and distinct from the frivolous fancies +of which Henry and Augustus had been the subject, and she the confidant. + +"I can look at him quite coolly and dispassionately," she said to +herself. "Though his face has a strange influence that must, I know, +correspond to some unexplained power within me, yet it is not a perfect +face. I have seen many men who are, strictly speaking, far handsomer. If +the light that never was on sea or land is in his eyes, yet they are +not pretty eyes--not half so clear as mine. Though he wears his common +clothes with a nameless grace that betrays his true breeding at every +step, yet he is not tall, dark, and melancholy, as my ideal hero would +be if I were as great a fool as girls of my age usually are. If I am in +love, I have sense enough not to let my love blind my judgment." + +She did not tell anyone of her new interest in life. Strongest in that +student community, she had used her power with good-nature enough to +win the popularity of a school leader, and occasionally with +unscrupulousness enough to secure the privileges of a school bully. +Popularity and privilege, however, only satisfied her when she was in +the mood for them. Girls, like men, want to be petted, pitied, and made +much of, when they are diffident, in low spirits, or in unrequited love. +These are services which the weak cannot render to the strong and which +the strong will not render to the weak, except when there is also a +difference of sex. Agatha knew by experience that though a weak woman +cannot understand why her stronger sister should wish to lean upon her, +she may triumph in the fact without understanding it, and give chaff +instead of consolation. Agatha wanted to be understood and not to be +chaffed. Finding herself unable to satisfy both these conditions, she +resolved to do without sympathy and to hold her tongue. She had often +had to do so before, and she was helped on this occasion by a sense of +the ridiculous appearance her passion might wear in the vulgar eye. Her +secret kept itself, as she was supposed in the college to be insensible +to the softer emotions. Love wrought no external change upon her. It +made her believe that she had left her girlhood behind her and was now +a woman with a newly-developed heart capacity at which she would +childishly have scoffed a little while before. She felt ashamed of the +bee on the window pane, although it somehow buzzed as frequently as +before in spite of her. Her calendar, formerly a monotonous cycle of +class times, meal times, play times, and bed time, was now irregularly +divided by walks past the chalet and accidental glimpses of its tenant. + +Early in December came a black frost, and navigation on the canal +was suspended. Wickens's boy was sent to the college with news that +Wickens's pond would bear, and that the young ladies should be welcome +at any time. The pond was only four feet deep, and as Miss Wilson set +much store by the physical education of her pupils, leave was given for +skating. Agatha, who was expert on the ice, immediately proposed that a +select party should go out before breakfast next morning. Actions not in +themselves virtuous often appear so when performed at hours that compel +early rising, and some of the candidates for the Cambridge Local, who +would not have sacrificed the afternoon to amusement, at once fell in +with her suggestion. But for them it might never have been carried out; +for when they summoned Agatha, at half-past six next morning, to leave +her warm bed and brave the biting air, she would have refused without +hesitation had she not been shamed into compliance by these laborious +ones who stood by her bedside, blue-nosed and hungry, but ready for the +ice. When she had dressed herself with much shuddering and chattering, +they allayed their internal discomfort by a slender meal of biscuits, +got their skates, and went out across the rimy meadows, past patient +cows breathing clouds of steam, to Wickens's pond. Here, to their +surprise, was Smilash, on electro-plated acme skates, practicing +complicated figures with intense diligence. It soon appeared that his +skill came short of his ambition; for, after several narrow escapes and +some frantic staggering, his calves, elbows, and occiput smote the ice +almost simultaneously. On rising ruefully to a sitting posture he +became aware that eight young ladies were watching his proceedings with +interest. + +"This comes of a common man putting himself above his station by getting +into gentlemen's skates," he said. "Had I been content with a humble +slide, as my fathers was, I should ha' been a happier man at the present +moment." He sighed, rose, touched his hat to Miss Ward, and took off his +skates, adding: "Good-morning, Miss. Miss Wilson sent me word to be here +sharp at six to put on the young ladies' skates, and I took the liberty +of trying a figure or two to keep out the cold." + +"Miss Wilson did not tell me that she ordered you to come," said Miss +Ward. + +"Just like her to be thoughtful and yet not let on to be! She is a +kind lady, and a learned--like yourself, Miss. Sit yourself down on the +camp-stool and give me your heel, if I may be so bold as to stick a +gimlet into it." + +His assistance was welcome, and Miss Ward allowed him to put on her +skates. She was a Canadian, and could skate well. Jane, the first +to follow her, was anxious as to the strength of the ice; but when +reassured, she acquitted herself admirably, for she was proficient in +outdoor exercises, and had the satisfaction of laughing in the field at +those who laughed at her in the study. Agatha, contrary to her custom, +gave way to her companions, and her boots were the last upon which +Smilash operated. + +"How d'you do, Miss Wylie?" he said, dropping the Smilash manner now +that the rest were out of earshot. + +"I am very well, thank you," said Agatha, shy and constrained. This +phase of her being new to him, he paused with her heel in his hand and +looked up at her curiously. She collected herself, returned his gaze +steadily, and said: "How did Miss Wilson send you word to come? She only +knew of our party at half-past nine last night." + +"Miss Wilson did not send for me." + +"But you have just told Miss Ward that she did." + +"Yes. I find it necessary to tell almost as many lies now that I am a +simple laborer as I did when I was a gentleman. More, in fact." + +"I shall know how much to believe of what you say in the future." + +"The truth is this. I am perhaps the worst skater in the world, and +therefore, according to a natural law, I covet the faintest distinction +on the ice more than immortal fame for the things in which nature has +given me aptitude to excel. I envy that large friend of yours--Jane +is her name, I think--more than I envy Plato. I came down here this +morning, thinking that the skating world was all a-bed, to practice in +secret." + +"I am glad we caught you at it," said Agatha maliciously, for he was +disappointing her. She wanted him to be heroic in his conversation; and +he would not. + +"I suppose so," he replied. "I have observed that Woman's dearest +delight is to wound Man's self-conceit, though Man's dearest delight is +to gratify hers. There is at least one creature lower than Man. Now, off +with you. Shall I hold you until your ankles get firm?" + +"Thank you," she said, disgusted: "_I_ can skate pretty well, and I +don't think you could give me any useful assistance." And she went off +cautiously, feeling that a mishap would be very disgraceful after such a +speech. + +He stood on the shore, listening to the grinding, swaying sound of the +skates, and watching the growing complexity of the curves they were +engraving on the ice. As the girls grew warm and accustomed to the +exercise they laughed, jested, screamed recklessly when they came into +collision, and sailed before the wind down the whole length of the pond +at perilous speed. The more animated they became, the gloomier looked +Smilash. "Not two-penn'orth of choice between them and a parcel of +puppies," he said; "except that some of them are conscious that there +is a man looking at them, although he is only a blackguard laborer. They +remind me of Henrietta in a hundred ways. Would I laugh, now, if the +whole sheet of ice were to burst into little bits under them?" + +Just then the ice cracked with a startling report, and the skaters, +except Jane, skimmed away in all directions. + +"You are breaking the ice to pieces, Jane," said Agatha, calling from a +safe distance. "How can you expect it to bear your weight?" + +"Pack of fools!" retorted Jane indignantly. "The noise only shows how +strong it is." + +The shock which the report had given Smilash answered him his question. +"Make a note that wishes for the destruction of the human race, however +rational and sincere, are contrary to nature," he said, recovering his +spirits. "Besides, what a precious fool I should be if I were working at +an international association of creatures only fit for destruction! Hi, +lady! One word, Miss!" This was to Miss Ward, who had skated into his +neighborhood. "It bein' a cold morning, and me havin' a poor and common +circulation, would it be looked on as a liberty if I was to cut a slide +here or take a turn in the corner all to myself?" + +"You may skate over there if you wish," she said, after a pause for +consideration, pointing to a deserted spot at the leeward end of the +pond, where the ice was too rough for comfortable skating. + +"Nobly spoke!" he cried, with a grin, hurrying to the place indicated, +where, skating being out of the question, he made a pair of slides, +and gravely exercised himself upon them until his face glowed and his +fingers tingled in the frosty air. The time passed quickly; when Miss +Ward sent for him to take off her skates there was a general groan and +declaration that it could not possibly be half-past eight o'clock yet. +Smilash knelt before the camp-stool, and was presently busy unbuckling +and unscrewing. When Jane's turn came, the camp-stool creaked beneath +her weight. Agatha again remonstrated with her, but immediately +reproached herself with flippancy before Smilash, to whom she wished to +convey an impression of deep seriousness of character. + +"Smallest foot of the lot," he said critically, holding Jane's foot +between his finger and thumb as if it were an art treasure which he had +been invited to examine. "And belonging to the finest built lady." + +Jane snatched away her foot, blushed, and said: + +"Indeed! What next, I wonder?" + +"T'other 'un next," he said, setting to work on the remaining skate. +When it was off, he looked up at her, and she darted a glance at him as +she rose which showed that his compliment (her feet were, in fact, small +and pretty) was appreciated. + +"Allow me, Miss," he said to Gertrude, who was standing on one leg, +leaning on Agatha, and taking off her own skates. + +"No, thank you," she said coldly. "I don't need your assistance." + +"I am well aware that the offer was overbold," he replied, with a +self-complacency that made his profession of humility exasperating. "If +all the skates is off, I will, by Miss Wilson's order, carry them and +the camp-stool back to the college." + +Miss Ward handed him her skates and turned away. Gertrude placed hers +on the stool and went with Miss Ward. The rest followed, leaving him to +stare at the heap of skates and consider how he should carry them. He +could think of no better plan than to interlace the straps and hang them +in a chain over his shoulder. By the time he had done this the young +ladies were out of sight, and his intention of enjoying their society +during the return to the college was defeated. They had entered the +building long before he came in sight of it. + +Somewhat out of conceit with his folly, he went to the servants' +entrance and rang the bell there. When the door was opened, he saw Miss +Ward standing behind the maid who admitted him. + +"Oh," she said, looking at the string of skates as if she had hardly +expected to see them again, "so you have brought our things back?" + +"Such were my instructions," he said, taken aback by her manner. "You +had no instructions. What do you mean by getting our skates into your +charge under false pretences? I was about to send the police to take +them from you. How dare you tell me that you were sent to wait on me, +when you know very well that you were nothing of the sort?" + +"I couldn't help it, Miss," he replied submissively. "I am a natural +born liar--always was. I know that it must appear dreadful to you that +never told a lie, and don't hardly know what a lie is, belonging as you +do to a class where none is ever told. But common people like me tells +lies just as a duck swims. I ask your pardon, Miss, most humble, and I +hope the young ladies'll be able to tell one set of skates from t'other; +for I'm blest if I can." + +"Put them down. Miss Wilson wishes to speak to you before you go. Susan, +show him the way." + +"Hope you ain't been and got a poor cove into trouble, Miss?" + +"Miss Wilson knows how you have behaved." + +He smiled at her benevolently and followed Susan upstairs. On their way +they met Jane, who stole a glance at him, and was about to pass by, when +he said: + +"Won't you say a word to Miss Wilson for a poor common fellow, honored +young lady? I have got into dreadful trouble for having made bold to +assist you this morning." + +"You needn't give yourself the pains to talk like that," replied Jane in +an impetuous whisper. "We all know that you're only pretending." + +"Well, you can guess my motive," he whispered, looking tenderly at her. + +"Such stuff and nonsense! I never heard of such a thing in my life," +said Jane, and ran away, plainly understanding that he had disguised +himself in order to obtain admission to the college and enjoy the +happiness of looking at her. + +"Cursed fool that I am!" he said to himself; "I cannot act like a +rational creature for five consecutive minutes." + +The servant led him to the study and announced, "The man, if you please, +ma'am." + +"Jeff Smilash," he added in explanation. + +"Come in," said Miss Wilson sternly. + +He went in, and met the determined frown which she cast on him from her +seat behind the writing table, by saying courteously: + +"Good-morning, Miss Wilson." + +She bent forward involuntarily, as if to receive a gentleman. Then she +checked herself and looked implacable. + +"I have to apologize," he said, "for making use of your name +unwarrantably this morning--telling a lie, in fact. I happened to +be skating when the young ladies came down, and as they needed +some assistance which they would hardly have accepted from a common +man--excuse my borrowing that tiresome expression from our acquaintance +Smilash--I set their minds at ease by saying that you had sent for me. +Otherwise, as you have given me a bad character--though not worse than +I deserve--they would probably have refused to employ me, or at least I +should have been compelled to accept payment, which I, of course, do not +need." + +Miss Wilson affected surprise. "I do not understand you," she said. + +"Not altogether," he said smiling. "But you understand that I am what is +called a gentleman." + +"No. The gentlemen with whom I am conversant do not dress as you dress, +nor speak as you speak, nor act as you act." + +He looked at her, and her countenance confirmed the hostility of her +tone. He instantly relapsed into an aggravated phase of Smilash. + +"I will no longer attempt to set myself up as a gentleman," he said. "I +am a common man, and your ladyship's hi recognizes me as such and is not +to be deceived. But don't go for to say that I am not candid when I am +as candid as ever you will let me be. What fault, if any, do you +find with my putting the skates on the young ladies, and carryin' the +campstool for them?" + +"If you are a gentleman," said Miss Wilson, reddening, "your conduct in +persisting in these antics in my presence is insulting to me. Extremely +so." + +"Miss Wilson," he replied, unruffled, "if you insist on Smilash, you +shall have Smilash; I take an insane pleasure in personating him. If you +want Sidney--my real Christian name--you can command him. But allow me +to say that you must have either one or the other. If you become frank +with me, I will understand that you are addressing Sidney. If distant +and severe, Smilash." + +"No matter what your name may be," said Miss Wilson, much annoyed, "I +forbid you to come here or to hold any communication whatever with the +young ladies in my charge." + +"Why?" + +"Because I choose." + +"There is much force in that reason, Miss Wilson; but it is not moral +force in the sense conveyed by your college prospectus, which I have +read with great interest." + +Miss Wilson, since her quarrel with Agatha, had been sore on the +subject of moral force. "No one is admitted here," she said, "without +a trustworthy introduction or recommendation. A disguise is not a +satisfactory substitute for either." + +"Disguises are generally assumed for the purpose of concealing crime," +he remarked sententiously. + +"Precisely so," she said emphatically. + +"Therefore, I bear, to say the least, a doubtful character. +Nevertheless, I have formed with some of the students here a slight +acquaintance, of which, it seems, you disapprove. You have given me no +good reason why I should discontinue that acquaintance, and you +cannot control me except by your wish--a sort of influence not usually +effective with doubtful characters. Suppose I disregard your wish, and +that one or two of your pupils come to you and say: 'Miss Wilson, in our +opinion Smilash is an excellent fellow; we find his conversation most +improving. As it is your principle to allow us to exercise our own +judgment, we intend to cultivate the acquaintance of Smilash.' How will +you act in that case?" + +"Send them home to their parents at once." + +"I see that your principles are those of the Church of England. You +allow the students the right of private judgment on condition that +they arrive at the same conclusions as you. Excuse my saying that the +principles of the Church of England, however excellent, are not those +your prospectus led me to hope for. Your plan is coercion, stark and +simple." + +"I do not admit it," said Miss Wilson, ready to argue, even with +Smilash, in defence of her system. "The girls are quite at liberty to +act as they please, but I reserve my equal liberty to exclude them from +my college if I do not approve of their behavior." + +"Just so. In most schools children are perfectly at liberty to learn +their lessons or not, just as they please; but the principal reserves an +equal liberty to whip them if they cannot repeat their tasks." + +"I do not whip my pupils," said Miss Wilson indignantly. "The comparison +is an outrage." + +"But you expel them; and, as they are devoted to you and to the place, +expulsion is a dreaded punishment. Yours is the old system of making +laws and enforcing them by penalties, and the superiority of Alton +College to other colleges is due, not to any difference of system, +but to the comparative reasonableness of its laws and the mildness and +judgment with which they are enforced." + +"My system is radically different from the old one. However, I will not +discuss the matter with you. A mind occupied with the prejudices of the +old coercive despotism can naturally only see in the new a modification +of the old, instead of, as my system is, an entire reversal or +abandonment of it." + +He shook his head sadly and said: "You seek to impose your ideas on +others, ostracizing those who reject them. Believe me, mankind has been +doing nothing else ever since it began to pay some attention to ideas. +It has been said that a benevolent despotism is the best possible form +of government. I do not believe that saying, because I believe another +one to the effect that hell is paved with benevolence, which most +people, the proverb being too deep for them, misinterpret as unfulfilled +intentions. As if a benevolent despot might not by any error of judgment +destroy his kingdom, and then say, like Romeo when he got his friend +killed, 'I thought all for the best!' Excuse my rambling. I meant to +say, in short, that though you are benevolent and judicious you are none +the less a despot." + +Miss Wilson, at a loss for a reply, regretted that she had not, before +letting him gain so far on her, dismissed him summarily instead of +tolerating a discussion which she did not know how to end with dignity. +He relieved her by adding unexpectedly: + +"Your system was the cause of my absurd marriage. My wife acquired a +degree of culture and reasonableness from her training here which made +her seem a superior being among the chatterers who form the female +seasoning in ordinary society. I admired her dark eyes, and was only too +glad to seize the excuse her education offered me for believing her a +match for me in mind as well as in body." + +Miss Wilson, astonished, determined to tell him coldly that her time was +valuable. But curiosity took possession of her in the act of utterance, +and the words that came were, "Who was she?" + +"Henrietta Jansenius. She is Henrietta Trefusis, and I am Sidney +Trefusis, at your mercy. I see I have aroused your compassion at last." + +"Nonsense!" said Miss Wilson hastily; for her surprise was indeed tinged +by a feeling that he was thrown away on Henrietta. + +"I ran away from her and adopted this retreat and this disguise in order +to avoid her. The usual rebuke to human forethought followed. I ran +straight into her arms--or rather she ran into mine. You remember the +scene, and were probably puzzled by it." + +"You seem to think your marriage contract a very light matter, Mr. +Trefusis. May I ask whose fault was the separation? Hers, of course." + +"I have nothing to reproach her with. I expected to find her temper +hasty, but it was not so--her behavior was unexceptionable. So was mine. +Our bliss was perfect, but unfortunately, I was not made for domestic +bliss--at all events I could not endure it--so I fled, and when she +caught me again I could give no excuse for my flight, though I made it +clear to her that I would not resume our connubial relations just yet. +We parted on bad terms. I fully intended to write her a sweet letter +to make her forgive me in spite of herself, but somehow the weeks have +slipped away and I am still fully intending. She has never written, and +I have never written. This is a pretty state of things, isn't it, Miss +Wilson, after all her advantages under the influence of moral force and +the movement for the higher education of women?" + +"By your own admission, the fault seems to lie upon your moral training +and not upon hers." + +"The fault was in the conditions of our association. Why they should +have attracted me so strongly at first, and repelled me so horribly +afterwards, is one of those devil's riddles which will not be answered +until we shall have traced all the yet unsuspected reactions of our +inveterate dishonesty. But I am wasting your time, I fear. You sent +for Smilash, and I have responded by practically annihilating him. In +public, however, you must still bear with his antics. One moment more. +I had forgotten to ask you whether you are interested in the shepherd +whose wife you sheltered on the night of the storm?" + +"He assured me, before he took his wife away, that he was comfortably +settled in a lodging in Lyvern." + +"Yes. Very comfortably settled indeed. For half-a-crown a week he +obtained permission to share a spacious drawing-room with two other +families in a ten-roomed house in not much better repair than his +blown-down hovel. This house yields to its landlord over two hundred +a year, or rather more than the rent of a commodious mansion in South +Kensington. It is a troublesome rent to collect, but on the other +hand there is no expenditure for repairs or sanitation, which are not +considered necessary in tenement houses. Our friend has to walk three +miles to his work and three miles back. Exercise is a capital thing for +a student or a city clerk, but to a shepherd who has been in the fields +all day, a long walk at the end of his work is somewhat too much of a +good thing. He begged for an increase of wages to compensate him for +the loss of the hut, but Sir John pointed out to him that if he was not +satisfied his place could be easily filled by less exorbitant shepherds. +Sir John even condescended to explain that the laws of political economy +bind employers to buy labor in the cheapest market, and our poor friend, +just as ignorant of economics as Sir John, of course did not know that +this was untrue. However, as labor is actually so purchased everywhere +except in Downing Street and a few other privileged spots, I suggested +that our friend should go to some place where his market price would be +higher than in merry England. He was willing enough to do so, but unable +from want of means. So I lent him a trifle, and now he is on his way to +Australia. Workmen are the geese that lay the golden eggs, but they fly +away sometimes. I hear a gong sounding, to remind me of the fight of +time and the value of your share of it. Good-morning!" + +Miss Wilson was suddenly moved not to let him go without an appeal to +his better nature. "Mr. Trefusis," she said, "excuse me, but are you +not, in your generosity to others a little forgetful of your duty to +yourself; and--" + +"The first and hardest of all duties!" he exclaimed. "I beg your pardon +for interrupting you. It was only to plead guilty." + +"I cannot admit that it is the first of all duties, but it is sometimes +perhaps the hardest, as you say. Still, you could surely do yourself +more justice without any great effort. If you wish to live humbly, you +can do so without pretending to be an uneducated man and without +taking an irritating and absurd name. Why on earth do you call yourself +Smilash?" + +"I confess that the name has been a failure. I took great pains, in +constructing it, to secure a pleasant impression. It is not a mere +invention, but a compound of the words smile and eyelash. A smile +suggests good humor; eyelashes soften the expression and are the only +features that never blemish a face. Hence Smilash is a sound that should +cheer and propitiate. Yet it exasperates. It is really very odd that it +should have that effect, unless it is that it raises expectations which +I am unable to satisfy." + +Miss Wilson looked at him doubtfully. He remained perfectly grave. There +was a pause. Then, as if she had made up her mind to be offended, she +said, "Good-morning," shortly. + +"Good-morning, Miss Wilson. The son of a millionaire, like the son of a +king, is seldom free from mental disease. I am just mad enough to be a +mountebank. If I were a little madder, I should perhaps really believe +myself Smilash instead of merely acting him. Whether you ask me to +forget myself for a moment, or to remember myself for a moment, I +reply that I am the son of my father, and cannot. With my egotism, my +charlatanry, my tongue, and my habit of having my own way, I am fit for +no calling but that of saviour of mankind--just of the sort they like." +After an impressive pause he turned slowly and left the room. + +"I wonder," he said, as he crossed the landing, "whether, by judiciously +losing my way, I can catch a glimpse of that girl who is like a golden +idol?" + +Downstairs, on his way to the door, he saw Agatha coming towards +him, occupied with a book which she was tossing up to the ceiling and +catching. Her melancholy expression, habitual in her lonely moments, +showed that she was not amusing herself, but giving vent to her +restlessness. As her gaze travelled upward, following the flight of +the volume, it was arrested by Smilash. The book fell to the floor. He +picked it up and handed it to her, saying: + +"And, in good time, here is the golden idol!" + +"What?" said Agatha, confused. + +"I call you the golden idol," he said. "When we are apart I always +imagine your face as a face of gold, with eyes and teeth of bdellium, +or chalcedony, or agate, or any wonderful unknown stones of appropriate +colors." + +Agatha, witless and dumb, could only look down deprecatingly. + +"You think you ought to be angry with me, and you do not know exactly +how to make me feel that you are so. Is that it?" + +"No. Quite the contrary. At least--I mean that you are wrong. I am the +most commonplace person you can imagine--if you only knew. No matter +what I may look, I mean." + +"How do you know that you are commonplace?" + +"Of course I know," said Agatha, her eyes wandering uneasily. + +"Of course you do not know; you cannot see yourself as others see you. +For instance, you have never thought of yourself as a golden idol." + +"But that is absurd. You are quite mistaken about me." + +"Perhaps so. I know, however, that your face is not really made of gold +and that it has not the same charm for you that it has for others--for +me." + +"I must go," said Agatha, suddenly in haste. + +"When shall we meet again?" + +"I don't know," she said, with a growing sense of alarm. "I really must +go." + +"Believe me, your hurry is only imaginary. Do you fancy that you are +behaving in a manner of quite ubdued ardor that affected Agatha +strangely. + +"But first tell me whether it is new to you or not." + +"It is not an emotion at all. I did not say that it was." + +"Do not be afraid of it. It is only being alone with a man whom you have +bewitched. You would be mistress of the situation if you only knew how +to manage a lover. It is far easier than managing a horse, or skating, +or playing the piano, or half a dozen other feats of which you think +nothing." + +Agatha colored and raised her head. + +"Forgive me," he said, interrupting the action. "I am trying to offend +you in order to save myself from falling in love with you, and I have +not the heart to let myself succeed. On your life, do not listen to me +or believe me. I have no right to say these things to you. Some fiend +enters into me when I am at your side. You should wear a veil, Agatha." + +She blushed, and stood burning and tingling, her presence of mind gone, +and her chief sensation one of relief to hear--for she did not dare +to see--that he was departing. Her consciousness was in a delicious +confusion, with the one definite thought in it that she had won her +lover at last. The tone of Trefusis's voice, rich with truth and +earnestness, his quick insight, and his passionate warning to her not to +heed him, convinced her that she had entered into a relation destined to +influence her whole life. + +"And yet," she said remorsefully, "I cannot love him as he loves me. +I am selfish, cold, calculating, worldly, and have doubted until now +whether such a thing as love really existed. If I could only love him +recklessly and wholly, as he loves me!" + +Smilash was also soliloquizing as he went on his way. + +"Now I have made the poor child--who was so anxious that I should not +mistake her for a supernaturally gifted and lovely woman as happy as an +angel; and so is that fine girl whom they call Jane Carpenter. I hope +they won't exchange confidences on the subject." + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Mrs. Trefusis found her parents so unsympathetic on the subject of her +marriage that she left their house shortly after her visit to Lyvern, +and went to reside with a hospitable friend. Unable to remain silent +upon the matter constantly in her thoughts, she discussed her husband's +flight with this friend, and elicited an opinion that the behavior of +Trefusis was scandalous and wicked. Henrietta could not bear this, +and sought shelter with a relative. The same discussion arising, the +relative said: + +"Well, Hetty, if I am to speak candidly, I must say that I have known +Sidney Trefusis for a long time, and he is the easiest person to get +on with I ever met. And you know, dear, that you are very trying +sometimes." + +"And so," cried Henrietta, bursting into tears, "after the infamous way +he has treated me I am to be told that it is all my own fault." + +She left the house next day, having obtained another invitation from +a discreet lady who would not discuss the subject at all. This proved +quite intolerable, and Henrietta went to stay with her uncle Daniel +Jansenius, a jolly and indulgent man. He opined that things would come +right as soon as both parties grew more sensible; and, as to which of +them was, in fault, his verdict was, six of one and half a dozen of the +other. Whenever he saw his niece pensive or tearful he laughed at her +and called her a grass widow. Henrietta found that she could endure +anything rather than this. Declaring that the world was hateful to her, +she hired a furnished villa in St. John's Wood, whither she moved in +December. But, suffering much there from loneliness, she soon wrote +a pathetic letter to Agatha, entreating her to spend the approaching +Christmas vacation with her, and promising her every luxury and +amusement that boundless affection could suggest and boundless means +procure. Agatha's reply contained some unlooked-for information. + +"Alton College, Lyvern, + +"14th December. + +"Dearest Hetty: I don't think I can do exactly what you want, as I must +spend Xmas with Mamma at Chiswick; but I need not get there until Xmas +Eve, and we break up here on yesterday week, the 20th. So I will go +straight to you and bring you with me to Mamma's, where you will spend +Xmas much better than moping in a strange house. It is not quite settled +yet about my leaving the college after this term. You must promise not +to tell anyone; but I have a new friend here--a lover. Not that I am in +love with him, though I think very highly of him--you know I am not a +romantic fool; but he is very much in love with me; and I wish I could +return it as he deserves. The French say that one person turns the cheek +and the other kisses it. It has not got quite so far as that with us; +indeed, since he declared what he felt he has only been able to snatch +a few words with me when I have been skating or walking. But there has +always been at least one word or look that meant a great deal. + +"And now, who do you think he is? He says he knows you. Can you guess? +He says you know all his secrets. He says he knows your husband well; +that he treated you very badly, and that you are greatly to be pitied. +Can you guess now? He says he has kissed you--for shame, Hetty! Have +you guessed yet? He was going to tell me something more when we were +interrupted, and I have not seen him since except at a distance. He +is the man with whom you eloped that day when you gave us all such a +fright--Mr. Sidney. I was the first to penetrate his disguise; and that +very morning I had taxed him with it, and he had confessed it. He said +then that he was hiding from a woman who was in love with him; and +I should not be surprised if it turned out to be true; for he is +wonderfully original--in fact what makes me like him is that he is by +far the cleverest man I have ever met; and yet he thinks nothing of +himself. I cannot imagine what he sees in me to care for, though he is +evidently ensnared by my charms. I hope he won't find out how silly I +am. He called me his golden idol--" + +Henrietta, with a scream of rage, tore the letter across, and stamped +upon it. When the paroxysm subsided she picked up the pieces, held them +together as accurately as her trembling hands could, and read on. + +"--but he is not all honey, and will say the most severe things +sometimes if he thinks he ought to. He has made me so ashamed of my +ignorance that I am resolved to stay here for another term at least, and +study as hard as I can. I have not begun yet, as it is not worth while +at the eleventh hour of this term; but when I return in January I will +set to work in earnest. So you may see that his influence over me is +an entirely good one. I will tell you all about him when we meet; for +I have no time to say anything now, as the girls are bothering me to go +skating with them. He pretends to be a workman, and puts on our skates +for us; and Jane Carpenter believes that he is in love with her. Jane +is exceedingly kindhearted; but she has a talent for making herself +ridiculous that nothing can suppress. The ice is lovely, and the weather +jolly; we do not mind the cold in the least. They are threatening to go +without me--good-bye! + +"Ever your affectionate + +"Agatha." + +Henrietta looked round for something sharp. She grasped a pair of +scissors greedily and stabbed the air with them. Then she became +conscious of her murderous impulse, and she shuddered at it; but in +a moment more her jealousy swept back upon her. She cried, as if +suffocating, "I don't care; I should like to kill her!" But she did not +take up the scissors again. + +At last she rang the bell violently and asked for a railway guide. On +being told that there was not one in the house, she scolded her maid so +unreasonably that the girl said pertly that if she were to be spoken +to like that she should wish to leave when her month was up. This check +brought Henrietta to her senses. She went upstairs and put on the first +cloak at hand, which was fortunately a heavy fur one. Then she took her +bonnet and purse, left the house, hailed a passing hansom, and bade the +cabman drive her to St. Pancras. + +When the night came the air at Lyvern was like iron in the intense cold. +The trees and the wind seemed ice-bound, as the water was, and silence, +stillness, and starlight, frozen hard, brooded over the country. At the +chalet, Smilash, indifferent to the price of coals, kept up a roaring +fire that glowed through the uncurtained windows, and tantalized the +chilled wayfarer who did not happen to know, as the herdsmen of the +neighborhood did, that he was welcome to enter and warm himself without +risk of rebuff from the tenant. Smilash was in high spirits. He had +become a proficient skater, and frosty weather was now a luxury to him. +It braced him, and drove away his gloomy fits, whilst his sympathies +were kept awake and his indignation maintained at an exhilarating pitch +by the sufferings of the poor, who, unable to afford fires or skating, +warmed themselves in such sweltering heat as overcrowding produces in +all seasons. + +It was Smilash's custom to make a hot drink of oatmeal and water for +himself at half-past nine o'clock each evening, and to go to bed at ten. +He opened the door to throw out some water that remained in the saucepan +from its last cleansing. It froze as it fell upon the soil. He looked +at the night, and shook himself to throw off an oppressive sensation of +being clasped in the icy ribs of the air, for the mercury had descended +below the familiar region of crisp and crackly cold and marked a +temperature at which the numb atmosphere seemed on the point of +congealing into black solidity. Nothing was stirring. + +"By George!" he said, "this is one of those nights on which a rich man +daren't think!" + +He shut the door, hastened back to his fire, and set to work at his +caudle, which he watched and stirred with a solicitude that would have +amused a professed cook. When it was done he poured it into a large mug, +where it steamed invitingly. He took up some in a spoon and blew upon it +to cool it. Tap, tap, tap, tap! hurriedly at the door. + +"Nice night for a walk," he said, putting down the spoon; then shouting, +"Come in." + +The latch rose unsteadily, and Henrietta, with frozen tears on her +cheeks, and an unintelligible expression of wretchedness and rage, +appeared. After an instant of amazement, he sprang to her and clasped +her in his arms, and she, against her will, and protesting voicelessly, +stumbled into his embrace. + +"You are frozen to death," he exclaimed, carrying her to the fire. "This +seal jacket is like a sheet of ice. So is your face" (kissing it). "What +is the matter? Why do you struggle so?" + +"Let me go," she gasped, in a vehement whisper. "I h--hate you." + +"My poor love, you are too cold to hate anyone--even your husband. You +must let me take off these atrocious French boots. Your feet must be +perfectly dead." + +By this time her voice and tears were thawing in the warmth of the +chalet and of his caresses. "You shall not take them off," she said, +crying with cold and sorrow. "Let me alone. Don't touch me. I am going +away--straight back. I will not speak to you, nor take off my things +here, nor touch anything in the house." + +"No, my darling," he said, putting her into a capacious wooden armchair +and busily unbuttoning her boots, "you shall do nothing that you don't +wish to do. Your feet are like stones. Yes, yes, my dear, I am a wretch +unworthy to live. I know it." + +"Let me alone," she said piteously. "I don't want your attentions. I +have done with you for ever." + +"Come, you must drink some of this nasty stuff. You will need strength +to tell your husband all the unpleasant things your soul is charged +with. Take just a little." + +She turned her face away and would not answer. He brought another chair +and sat down beside her. "My lost, forlorn, betrayed one--" + +"I am," she sobbed. "You don't mean it, but I am." + +"You are also my dearest and best of wives. If you ever loved me, Hetty, +do, for my once dear sake, drink this before it gets cold." + +She pouted, sobbed, and yielded to some gentle force which he used, as +a child allows herself to be half persuaded, half compelled, to take +physic. + +"Do you feel better and more comfortable now?" he said. + +"No," she replied, angry with herself for feeling both. + +"Then," he said cheerfully, as if she had uttered a hearty affirmative, +"I will put some more coals on the fire, and we shall be as snug as +possible. It makes me wildly happy to see you at my fireside, and to +know that you are my own wife." + +"I wonder how you can look me in the face and say so," she cried. + +"I should wonder at myself if I could look at your face and say anything +else. Oatmeal is a capital restorative; all your energy is coming back. +There, that will make a magnificent blaze presently." + +"I never thought you deceitful, Sidney, whatever other faults you might +have had." + +"Precisely, my love. I understand your feelings. Murder, burglary, +intemperance, or the minor vices you could have borne; but deceit you +cannot abide." + +"I will go away," she said despairingly, with a fresh burst of tears. "I +will not be laughed at and betrayed. I will go barefooted." She rose and +attempted to reach the door; but he intercepted her and said: + +"My love, there is something serious the matter. What is it? Don't be +angry with me." + +He brought her back to the chair. She took Agatha's letter from the +pocket of her fur cloak, and handed it to him with a faint attempt to be +tragic. + +"Read that," she said. "And never speak to me again. All is over between +us." + +He took it curiously, and turned it to look at the signature. "Aha!" he +said, "my golden idol has been making mischief, has she?" + +"There!" exclaimed Henrietta. "You have said it to my face! You have +convicted yourself out of your own mouth!" + +"Wait a moment, my dear. I have not read the letter yet." + +He rose and walked to and fro through the room, reading. She watched +him, angrily confident that she should presently see him change +countenance. Suddenly he drooped as if his spine had partly given way; +and in this ungraceful attitude he read the remainder of the letter. +When he had finished he threw it on the table, thrust his hands deep +into his pockets, and roared with laughter, huddling himself together as +if he could concentrate the joke by collecting himself into the smallest +possible compass. Henrietta, speechless with indignation, could only +look her feelings. At last he came and sat down beside her. + +"And so," he said, "on receiving this you rushed out in the cold and +came all the way to Lyvern. Now, it seems to me that you must either +love me very much--" + +"I don't. I hate you." + +"Or else love yourself very much." + +"Oh!" And she wept afresh. "You are a selfish brute, and you do just as +you like without considering anyone else. No one ever thinks of me. And +now you won't even take the trouble to deny that shameful letter." + +"Why should I deny it? It is true. Do you not see the irony of all this? +I amuse myself by paying a few compliments to a schoolgirl for whom I +do not care two straws more than for any agreeable and passably clever +woman I meet. Nevertheless, I occasionally feel a pang of remorse +because I think that she may love me seriously, although I am only +playing with her. I pity the poor heart I have wantonly ensnared. And, +all the time, she is pitying me for exactly the same reason! She is +conscience-stricken because she is only indulging in the luxury of +being adored 'by far the cleverest man she has ever met,' and is as +heart-whole as I am! Ha, ha! That is the basis of the religion of love +of which poets are the high-priests. Each worshipper knows that his own +love is either a transient passion or a sham copied from his favorite +poem; but he believes honestly in the love of others for him. Ho, ho! Is +it not a silly world, my dear?" + +"You had no right to make love to Agatha. You have no right to make love +to anyone but me; and I won't bear it." + +"You are angry because Agatha has infringed your monopoly. Always +monopoly! Why, you silly girl, do you suppose that I belong to you, body +and soul?--that I may not be moved except by your affection, or think +except of your beauty?" + +"You may call me as many names as you please, but you have no right to +make love to Agatha." + +"My dearest, I do not recollect calling you any names. I think you said +something about a selfish brute." + +"I did not. You called me a silly girl." + +"But, my love, you are." + +"And so YOU are. You are thoroughly selfish." + +"I don't deny it. But let us return to our subject. What did we begin to +quarrel about?" + +"I am not quarrelling, Sidney. It is you." + +"Well, what did I begin to quarrel about?" + +"About Agatha Wylie." + +"Oh, pardon me, Hetty; I certainly did not begin to quarrel about her. I +am very fond of her--more so, it appears, than she is of me. One moment, +Hetty, before you recommence your reproaches. Why do you dislike my +saying pretty things to Agatha?" + +Henrietta hesitated, and said: "Because you have no right to. It shows +how little you care for me." + +"It has nothing to do with you. It only shows how much I care for her." + +"I will not stay here to be insulted," said Hetty, her distress +returning. "I will go home." + +"Not to-night; there is no train." + +"I will walk." + +"It is too far." + +"I don't care. I will not stay here, though I die of cold by the +roadside." + +"My cherished one, I have been annoying you purposely because you show +by your anger that you have not ceased to care for me. I am in the +wrong, as I usually am, and it is all my fault. Agatha knows nothing +about our marriage." + +"I do not blame you so much," said Henrietta, suffering him to place her +head on his shoulder; "but I will never speak to Agatha again. She has +behaved shamefully to me, and I will tell her so." + +"No doubt she will opine that it is all your fault, dearest, and that I +have behaved admirably. Between you I shall stand exonerated. And now, +since it is too cold for walking, since it is late, since it is far to +Lyvern and farther to London, I must improvise some accommodation for +you here." + +"But--" + +"But there is no help for it. You must stay." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Next day Smilash obtained from his wife a promise that she would behave +towards Agatha as if the letter had given no offence. Henrietta pleaded +as movingly as she could for an immediate return to their domestic +state, but he put her off with endearing speeches, promised nothing but +eternal affection, and sent her back to London by the twelve o'clock +express. Then his countenance changed; he walked back to Lyvern, and +thence to the chalet, like a man pursued by disgust and remorse. Later +in the afternoon, to raise his spirits, he took his skates and went to +Wickens's pond, where, it being Saturday, he found the ice crowded +with the Alton students and their half-holiday visitors. Fairholme, +describing circles with his habitual air of compressed hardihood, +stopped and stared with indignant surprise as Smilash lurched past him. + +"Is that man here by your permission?" he said to Farmer Wickens, who +was walking about as if superintending a harvest. + +"He is here because he likes, I take it," said Wickens stubbornly. "He +is a neighbor of mine and a friend of mine. Is there any objections to +my having a friend on my own pond, seein' that there is nigh on two +or three ton of other people's friends on it without as much as a +with-your-leave or a by-your-leave." + +"Oh, no," said Fairholme, somewhat dashed. "If you are satisfied there +can be no objection." + +"I'm glad on it. I thought there mout be." + +"Let me tell you," said Fairholme, nettled, "that your landlord would +not be pleased to see him here. He sent one of Sir John's best shepherds +out of the country, after filling his head with ideas above his station. +I heard Sir John speak very warmly about it last Sunday." + +"Mayhap you did, Muster Fairholme. I have a lease of this land--and +gravelly, poor stuff it is--and I am no ways beholden to Sir John's +likings and dislikings. A very good thing too for Sir John that I have +a lease, for there ain't a man in the country 'ud tak' a present o' the +farm if it was free to-morrow. And what's a' more, though that young man +do talk foolish things about the rights of farm laborers and such-like +nonsense, if Sir John was to hear him layin' it down concernin' rent +and improvements, and the way we tenant farmers is put upon, p'raps he'd +speak warmer than ever next Sunday." + +And Wickens, with a smile expressive of his sense of having retorted +effectively upon the parson, nodded and walked away. + +Just then Agatha, skating hand in hand with Jane Carpenter, heard these +words in her ear: "I have something very funny to tell you. Don't look +round." + +She recognized the voice of Smilash and obeyed. + +"I am not quite sure that you will enjoy it as it deserves," he +added, and darted off again, after casting an eloquent glance at Miss +Carpenter. + +Agatha disengaged herself from her companion, made a circuit, and passed +near Smilash, saying: "What is it?" + +Smilash flitted away like a swallow, traced several circles around +Fairholme, and then returned to Agatha and proceeded side by side with +her. + +"I have read the letter you wrote to Hetty," he said. + +Agatha's face began to glow. She forgot to maintain her balance, and +almost fell. + +"Take care. And so you are not fond of me--in the romantic sense?" + +No answer. Agatha dumb and afraid to lift her eyelids. + +"That is fortunate," he continued, "because--good evening, Miss Ward; I +have done nothing but admire your skating for the last hour--because +men were deceivers ever; and I am no exception, as you will presently +admit." + +Agatha murmured something, but it was unintelligible amid the din of +skating. + +"You think not? Well, perhaps you are right; I have said nothing to you +that is not in a measure true. You have always had a peculiar charm for +me. But I did not mean you to tell Hetty. Can you guess why?" + +Agatha shook her head. + +"Because she is my wife." + +Agatha's ankles became limp. With an effort she kept upright until she +reached Jane, to whom she clung for support. + +"Don't," screamed Jane. "You'll upset me." + +"I must sit down," said Agatha. "I am tired. Let me lean on you until we +get to the chairs." + +"Bosh! I can skate for an hour without sitting down," said Jane. +However, she helped Agatha to a chair and left her. Then Smilash, as if +desiring a rest also, sat down close by on the margin of the pond. + +"Well," he said, without troubling himself as to whether their +conversation attracted attention or not, "what do you think of me now?" + +"Why did you not tell me before, Mr. Trefusis?" + +"That is the cream of the joke," he replied, poising his heels on the +ice so that his skates stood vertically at legs' length from him, and +looking at them with a cynical air. "I thought you were in love with me, +and that the truth would be too severe a blow to you. Ha! ha! And, for +the same reason, you generously forbore to tell me that you were no more +in love with me than with the man in the moon. Each played a farce, and +palmed it off on the other as a tragedy." + +"There are some things so unmanly, so unkind, and so cruel," said +Agatha, "that I cannot understand any gentleman saying them to a girl. +Please do not speak to me again. Miss Ward! Come to me for a moment. +I--I am not well." + +Ward hurried to her side. Smilash, after staring at her for a moment in +astonishment, and in some concern, skimmed away into the crowd. When +he reached the opposite bank he took off his skates and asked Jane, who +strayed intentionally in his direction, to tell Miss Wylie that he +was gone, and would skate no more there. Without adding a word of +explanation he left her and made for his dwelling. As he went down into +the hollow where the road passed through the plantation on the college +side of the chalet he descried a boy, in the uniform of the post office, +sliding along the frozen ditch. A presentiment of evil tidings came upon +him like a darkening of the sky. He quickened his pace. + +"Anything for me?" he said. + +The boy, who knew him, fumbled in a letter case and produced a buff +envelope. It contained a telegram. + + +From Jansenius, London. + +TO J. Smilash, Chamoounix Villa, Lyvern. + +Henrietta dangerously ill after journey wants to see you doctors say +must come at once. + + +There was a pause. Then he folded the paper methodically and put it in +his pocket, as if quite done with it. + +"And so," he said, "perhaps the tragedy is to follow the farce after +all." + +He looked at the boy, who retreated, not liking his expression. + +"Did you slide all the way from Lyvern?" + +"Only to come quicker," said the messenger, faltering. "I came as quick +as I could." + +"You carried news heavy enough to break the thickest ice ever frozen. I +have a mind to throw you over the top of that tree instead of giving you +this half-crown." + +"You let me alone," whimpered the boy, retreating another pace. + +"Get back to Lyvern as fast as you can run or slide, and tell Mr. Marsh +to send me the fastest trap he has, to drive me to the railway station. +Here is your half-crown. Off with you; and if I do not find the trap +ready when I want it, woe betide you." + +The boy came for the money mistrustfully, and ran off with it as fast +as he could. Smilash went into the chalet and never reappeared. Instead, +Trefusis, a gentleman in an ulster, carrying a rug, came out, locked the +door, and hurried along the road to Lyvern, where he was picked up by +the trap, and carried swiftly to the railway station, just in time to +catch the London train. + +"Evening paper, sir?" said a voice at the window, as he settled himself +in the corner of a first-class carriage. + +"No, thank you." + +"Footwarmer, sir?" said a porter, appearing in the news-vender's place. + +"Ah, that's a good idea. Yes, let me have a footwarmer." + +The footwarmer was brought, and Trefusis composed himself comfortably +for his journey. It seemed very short to him; he could hardly believe, +when the train arrived in London, that he had been nearly three hours on +the way. + +There was a sense of Christmas about the travellers and the people who +were at the terminus to meet them. The porter who came to the carriage +door reminded Trefusis by his manner and voice that the season was one +at which it becomes a gentleman to be festive and liberal. + +"Wot luggage, sir? Hansom or fourweoll, sir?" + +For a moment Trefusis felt a vagabond impulse to resume the language of +Smilash and fable to the man of hampers of turkey and plum-pudding in +the van. But he repressed it, got into a hansom, and was driven to his +father-in-law's house in Belsize Avenue, studying in a gloomily critical +mood the anxiety that surged upon him and made his heart beat like a +boy's as he drew near his destination. There were two carriages at the +door when he alighted. The reticent expression of the coachmen sent a +tremor through him. + +The door opened before he rang. "If you please, sir," said the maid in a +low voice, "will you step into the library; and the doctor will see you +immediately." + +On the first landing of the staircase two gentlemen were speaking to Mr. +Jansenius, who hastily moved out of sight, not before a glimpse of his +air of grief and discomfiture had given Trefusis a strange twinge, +succeeded by a sensation of having been twenty years a widower. He +smiled unconcernedly as he followed the girl into the library, and asked +her how she did. She murmured some reply and hurried away, thinking that +the poor young man would alter his tone presently. + +He was joined at once by a gray whiskered gentleman, scrupulously +dressed and mannered. Trefusis introduced himself, and the physician +looked at him with some interest. Then he said: + +"You have arrived too late, Mr. Trefusis. All is over, I am sorry to +say." + +"Was the long railway journey she took in this cold weather the cause of +her death?" + +Some bitter words that the physician had heard upstairs made him aware +that this was a delicate question. But he said quietly: "The proximate +cause, doubtless. The proximate cause." + +"She received some unwelcome and quite unlooked-for intelligence before +she started. Had that anything to do with her death, do you think?" + +"It may have produced an unfavorable effect," said the physician, +growing restive and taking up his gloves. "The habit of referring such +events to such causes is carried too far, as a rule." + +"No doubt. I am curious because the event is novel in my experience. I +suppose it is a commonplace in yours. Pardon me. The loss of a lady so +young and so favorably circumstanced is not a commonplace either in my +experience or in my opinion." The physician held up his head as he +spoke, in protest against any assumption that his sympathies had been +blunted by his profession. + +"Did she suffer?" + +"For some hours, yes. We were able to do a little to alleviate her +pain--poor thing!" He almost forgot Trefusis as he added the apostrophe. + +"Hours of pain! Can you conceive any good purpose that those hours may +have served?" + +The physician shook his head, leaving it doubtful whether he meant to +reply in the negative or to deplore considerations of that nature. +He also made a movement to depart, being uneasy in conversation with +Trefusis, who would, he felt sure, presently ask questions or make +remarks with which he could hardly deal without committing himself in +some direction. His conscience was not quite at rest. Henrietta's pain +had not, he thought, served any good purpose; but he did not want to +say so, lest he should acquire a reputation for impiety and lose his +practice. He believed that the general practitioner who attended the +family, and had called him in when the case grew serious, had treated +Henrietta unskilfully, but professional etiquette bound him so strongly +that, sooner than betray his colleague's inefficiency, he would have +allowed him to decimate London. + +"One word more," said Trefusis. "Did she know that she was dying?" + +"No. I considered it best that she should not be informed of her danger. +She passed away without any apprehension." + +"Then one can think of it with equanimity. She dreaded death, poor +child. The wonder is that there was not enough folly in the household to +prevail against your good sense." + +The physician bowed and took his leave, esteeming himself somewhat +fortunate in escaping without being reproached for his humanity in +having allowed Henrietta to die unawares. + +A moment later the general practitioner entered. Trefusis, having +accompanied the consulting physician to the door, detected the family +doctor in the act of pulling a long face just outside it. Restraining a +desire to seize him by the throat, he seated himself on the edge of the +table and said cheerfully: + +"Well, doctor, how has the world used you since we last met?" + +The doctor was taken aback, but the solemn disposition of his features +did not relax as he almost intoned: "Has Sir Francis told you the sad +news, Mr. Trefusis?" + +"Yes. Frightful, isn't it? Lord bless me, we're here to-day and gone +to-morrow." + +"True, very true!" + +"Sir Francis has a high opinion of you." + +The doctor looked a little foolish. "Everything was done that could be +done, Mr. Trefusis; but Mrs. Jansenius was very anxious that no stone +should be left unturned. She was good enough to say that her sole reason +for wishing me to call in Sir Francis was that you should have no cause +to complain." + +"Indeed!" + +"An excellent mother! A sad event for her! Ah, yes, yes! Dear me! A very +sad event!" + +"Most disagreeable. Such a cold day too. Pleasanter to be in heaven than +here in such weather, possibly." + +"Ah!" said the doctor, as if much sound comfort lay in that. "I hope so; +I hope so; I do not doubt it. Sir Francis did not permit us to tell her, +and I, of course, deferred to him. Perhaps it was for the best." + +"You would have told her, then, if Sir Francis had not objected?" + +"Well, there are, you see, considerations which we must not ignore in +our profession. Death is a serious thing, as I am sure I need not remind +you, Mr. Trefusis. We have sometimes higher duties than indulgence to +the natural feelings of our patients." + +"Quite so. The possibility of eternal bliss and the probability of +eternal torment are consolations not to be lightly withheld from a +dying girl, eh? However, what's past cannot be mended. I have much to +be thankful for, after all. I am a young man, and shall not cut a bad +figure as a widower. And now tell me, doctor, am I not in very bad +repute upstairs?" + +"Mr. Trefusis! Sir! I cannot meddle in family matters. I understand my +duties and never over step them." The doctor, shocked at last, spoke as +loftily as he could. + +"Then I will go and see Mr. Jansenius," said Trefusis, getting off the +table. + +"Stay, sir! One moment. I have not finished. Mrs. Jansenius has asked +me to ask--I was about to say that I am not speaking now as the medical +adviser of this family; but although an old friend--and--ahem! Mrs. +Jansenius has asked me to ask--to request you to excuse Mr. Jansenius, +as he is prostrated by grief, and is, as I can--as a medical man--assure +you, unable to see anyone. She will speak to you herself as soon as she +feels able to do so--at some time this evening. Meanwhile, of course, +any orders you may give--you must be fatigued by your journey, and I +always recommend people not to fast too long; it produces an acute form +of indigestion--any orders you may wish to give will, of course, be +attended to at once." + +"I think," said Trefusis, after a moment's reflection, "I will order a +hansom." + +"There is no ill-feeling," said the doctor, who, as a slow man, was +usually alarmed by prompt decisions, even when they seemed wise to him, +as this one did. "I hope you have not gathered from anything I have +said--" + +"Not at all; you have displayed the utmost tact. But I think I had +better go. Jansenius can bear death and misery with perfect fortitude +when it is on a large scale and hidden in a back slum. But when it +breaks into his own house, and attacks his property--his daughter was +his property until very recently--he is just the man to lose his head +and quarrel with me for keeping mine." + +The doctor was unable to cope with this speech, which conveyed vaguely +monstrous ideas to him. Seeing Trefusis about to leave, he said in a low +voice: "Will you go upstairs?" + +"Upstairs! Why?" + +"I--I thought you might wish to see--" He did not finish the sentence, +but Trefusis flinched; the blank had expressed what was meant. + +"To see something that was Henrietta, and that is a thing we must cast +out and hide, with a little superstitious mumming to save appearances. +Why did you remind me of it?" + +"But, sir, whatever your views may be, will you not, as a matter of +form, in deference to the feelings of the family--" + +"Let them spare their feelings for the living, on whose behalf I have +often appealed to them in vain," cried Trefusis, losing patience. "Damn +their feelings!" And, turning to the door, he found it open, and Mrs. +Jansenius there listening. + +Trefusis was confounded. He knew what the effect of his speech must be, +and felt that it would be folly to attempt excuse or explanation. He put +his hands into his pockets, leaned against the table, and looked at her, +mutely wondering what would follow on her part. + +The doctor broke the silence by saying tremulously, "I have communicated +the melancholy intelligence to Mr. Trefusis." + +"I hope you told him also," she said sternly, "that, however deficient +we may be in feeling, we did everything that lay in our power for our +child." + +"I am quite satisfied," said Trefusis. + +"No doubt you are--with the result," said Mrs. Jansenius, hardly. "I +wish to know whether you have anything to complain of." + +"Nothing." + +"Please do not imply that anything has happened through our neglect." + +"What have I to complain of? She had a warm room and a luxurious bed to +die in, with the best medical advice in the world. Plenty of people +are starving and freezing to-day that we may have the means to die +fashionably; ask THEM if they have any cause for complaint. Do you think +I will wrangle over her body about the amount of money spent on her +illness? What measure is that of the cause she had for complaint? I +never grudged money to her--how could I, seeing that more than I can +waste is given to me for nothing? Or how could you? Yet she had great +reason to complain of me. You will allow that to be so." + +"It is perfectly true." + +"Well, when I am in the humor for it, I will reproach myself and not +you." He paused, and then turned forcibly on her, saying, "Why do you +select this time, of all others, to speak so bitterly to me?" + +"I am not aware that I have said anything to call for such a remark. Did +YOU," (appealing to the doctor) "hear me say anything?" + +"Mr. Trefusis does not mean to say that you did, I am sure. Oh, no. Mr. +Trefusis's feelings are naturally--are harrowed. That is all." + +"My feelings!" cried Trefusis impatiently. "Do you suppose my feelings +are a trumpery set of social observances, to be harrowed to order and +exhibited at funerals? She has gone as we three shall go soon enough. If +we were immortal, we might reasonably pity the dead. As we are not, we +had better save our energies to minimize the harm we are likely to do +before we follow her." + +The doctor was deeply offended by this speech, for the statement that +he should one day die seemed to him a reflection upon his professional +mastery over death. Mrs. Jansenius was glad to see Trefusis confirming +her bad opinion and report of him by his conduct and language in the +doctor's presence. There was a brief pause, and then Trefusis, too far +out of sympathy with them to be able to lead the conversation into a +kinder vein, left the room. In the act of putting on his overcoat in the +hall, he hesitated, and hung it up again irresolutely. Suddenly he ran +upstairs. At the sound of his steps a woman came from one of the rooms +and looked inquiringly at him. + +"Is it here?" he said. + +"Yes, sir," she whispered. + +A painful sense of constriction came in his chest, and he turned pale +and stopped with his hand on the lock. + +"Don't be afraid, sir," said the woman, with an encouraging smile. "She +looks beautiful." + +He looked at her with a strange grin, as if she had uttered a ghastly +but irresistible joke. Then he went in, and, when he reached the bed, +wished he had stayed without. He was not one of those who, seeing little +in the faces of the living miss little in the faces of the dead. The +arrangement of the black hair on the pillow, the soft drapery, and the +flowers placed there by the nurse to complete the artistic effect to +which she had so confidently referred, were lost on him; he saw only +a lifeless mask that had been his wife's face, and at sight of it his +knees failed, and he had to lean for support on the rail at the foot of +the bed. + +When he looked again the face seemed to have changed. It was no longer +a waxlike mask, but Henrietta, girlish and pathetically at rest. Death +seemed to have cancelled her marriage and womanhood; he had never seen +her look so young. A minute passed, and then a tear dropped on the +coverlet. He started; shook another tear on his hand, and stared at it +incredulously. + +"This is a fraud of which I have never even dreamed," he said. "Tears +and no sorrow! Here am I crying! growing maudlin! whilst I am glad that +she is gone and I free. I have the mechanism of grief in me somewhere; +it begins to turn at sight of her though I have no sorrow; just as she +used to start the mechanism of passion when I had no love. And that made +no difference to her; whilst the wheels went round she was satisfied. I +hope the mechanism of grief will flag and stop in its spinning as soon +as the other used to. It is stopping already, I think. What a mockery! +Whilst it lasts I suppose I am really sorry. And yet, would I restore +her to life if I could? Perhaps so; I am therefore thankful that I +cannot." He folded his arms on the rail and gravely addressed the dead +figure, which still affected him so strongly that he had to exert his +will to face it with composure. "If you really loved me, it is well for +you that you are dead--idiot that I was to believe that the passion you +could inspire, you poor child, would last. We are both lucky; I have +escaped from you, and you have escaped from yourself." + +Presently he breathed more freely and looked round the room to help +himself into a matter-of-fact vein by a little unembarrassed action, and +the commonplace aspect of the bedroom furniture. He went to the pillow, +and bent over it, examining the face closely. + +"Poor child!" he said again, tenderly. Then, with sudden reaction, +apostrophizing himself instead of his wife, "Poor ass! Poor idiot! Poor +jackanapes! Here is the body of a woman who was nearly as old as myself, +and perhaps wiser, and here am I moralizing over it as if I were God +Almighty and she a baby! The more you remind a man of what he is, the +more conceited he becomes. Monstrous! I shall feel immortal presently." + +He touched the cheek with a faint attempt at roughness, to feel how cold +it was. Then he touched his own, and remarked: + +"This is what I am hastening toward at the express speed of sixty +minutes an hour!" He stood looking down at the face and tasting this +sombre reflection for a long time. When it palled on him, he roused +himself, and exclaimed more cheerfully: + +"After all, she is not dead. Every word she uttered--every idea she +formed and expressed, was an inexhaustible and indestructible impulse." +He paused, considered a little further, and relapsed into gloom, adding, +"and the dozen others whose names will be with hers in the 'Times' +to-morrow? Their words too are still in the air, to endure there to +all eternity. Hm! How the air must be crammed with nonsense! Two sounds +sometimes produce a silence; perhaps ideas neutralize one another in +some analogous way. No, my dear; you are dead and gone and done with, +and I shall be dead and gone and done with too soon to leave me leisure +to fool myself with hopes of immortality. Poor Hetty! Well, good-by, my +darling. Let us pretend for a moment that you can hear that; I know it +will please you." + +All this was in a half-articulate whisper. When he ceased he still bent +over the body, gazing intently at it. Even when he had exhausted the +subject, and turned to go, he changed his mind, and looked again for a +while. Then he stood erect, apparently nerved and refreshed, and left +the room with a firm step. The woman was waiting outside. Seeing that he +was less distressed than when he entered, she said: + +"I hope you are satisfied, sir!" + +"Delighted! Charmed! The arrangements are extremely pretty and tasteful. +Most consolatory." And he gave her half a sovereign. + +"I thank you, sir," she said, dropping a curtsey. "The poor young lady! +She was anxious to see you, sir. To hear her say that you were the only +one that cared for her! And so fretful with her mother, too. 'Let him be +told that I am dangerously ill,' says she, 'and he'll come.' She didn't +know how true her word was, poor thing; and she went off without being +aware of it." + +"Flattering herself and flattering me. Happy girl!" + +"Bless you, I know what her feelings were, sir; I have had experience." +Here she approached him confidentially, and whispered: "The family were +again' you, sir, and she knew it. But she wouldn't listen to them. She +thought of nothing, when she was easy enough to think at all, but of +your coming. And--hush! Here's the old gentleman." + +Trefusis looked round and saw Mr. Jansenius, whose handsome face +was white and seamed with grief and annoyance. He drew back from the +proffered hand of his son-in-law, like an overworried child from an +ill-timed attempt to pet it. Trefusis pitied him. The nurse coughed and +retired. + +"Have you been speaking to Mrs. Jansenius?" said Trefusis. + +"Yes," said Jansenius offensively. + +"So have I, unfortunately. Pray make my apologies to her. I was rude. +The circumstances upset me." + +"You are not upset, sir," said Jansenius loudly. "You do not care a +damn." + +Trefusis recoiled. + +"You damned my feelings, and I will damn yours," continued Jansenius in +the same tone. Trefusis involuntarily looked at the door through which +he had lately passed. Then, recovering himself, he said quietly: + +"It does not matter. She can't hear us." + +Before Jansenius could reply his wife hurried upstairs, caught him by +the arm, and said, "Don't speak to him, John. And you," she added, to +Trefusis, "WILL you begone?" + +"What!" he said, looking cynically at her. "Without my dead! Without my +property! Well, be it so." + +"What do you know of the feelings of a respectable man?" persisted +Jansenius, breaking out again in spite of his wife. "Nothing is sacred +to you. This shows what Socialists are!" + +"And what fathers are, and what mothers are," retorted Trefusis, giving +way to his temper. "I thought you loved Hetty, but I see that you only +love your feelings and your respectability. The devil take both! She was +right; my love for her, incomplete as it was, was greater than yours." +And he left the house in dudgeon. + +But he stood awhile in the avenue to laugh at himself and his +father-in-law. Then he took a hansom and was driven to the house of +his solicitor, whom he wished to consult on the settlement of his late +wife's affairs. + + + +CHAPTER X + +The remains of Henrietta Trefusis were interred in Highgate Cemetery +the day before Christmas Eve. Three noblemen sent their carriages to +the funeral, and the friends and clients of Mr. Jansenius, to a large +number, attended in person. The bier was covered with a profusion of +costly Bowers. The undertaker, instructed to spare no expense, provided +long-tailed black horses, with black palls on their backs and black +plumes upon their foreheads; coachmen decorated with scarves and +jack-boots, black hammercloths, cloaks, and gloves, with many hired +mourners, who, however, would have been instantly discharged had they +presumed to betray emotion, or in any way overstep their function of +walking beside the hearse with brass-tipped batons in their hands. + +Among the genuine mourners were Mr. Jansenius, who burst into tears +at the ceremony of casting earth on the coffin; the boy Arthur, who, +preoccupied by the novelty of appearing in a long cloak at the head of a +public procession, felt that he was not so sorry as he ought to be when +he saw his papa cry; and a cousin who had once asked Henrietta to marry +him, and who now, full of tragic reflections, was enjoying his despair +intensely. + +The rest whispered, whenever they could decently do so, about a strange +omission in the arrangements. The husband of the deceased was absent. +Members of the family and intimate friends were told by Daniel Jansenius +that the widower had acted in a blackguard way, and that the Janseniuses +did not care two-pence whether he came or stayed at home; that, but for +the indecency of the thing, they were just as glad that he was keeping +away. Others, who had no claim to be privately informed, made inquiries +of the undertaker's foreman, who said he understood the gentleman +objected to large funerals. Asked why, he said he supposed it was on the +ground of expense. This being met by a remark that Mr. Trefusis was very +wealthy, he added that he had been told so, but believed the money +had not come from the lady; that people seldom cared to go to a great +expense for a funeral unless they came into something good by the death; +and that some parties the more they had the more they grudged. Before +the funeral guests dispersed, the report spread by Mr. Jansenius's +brother had got mixed with the views of the foreman, and had given rise +to a story of Trefusis expressing joy at his wife's death with frightful +oaths in her father's house whilst she lay dead there, and refusing to +pay a farthing of her debts or funeral expenses. + +Some days later, when gossip on the subject was subsiding, a fresh +scandal revived it. A literary friend of Mr. Jansenius's helped him +to compose an epitaph, and added to it a couple of pretty and touching +stanzas, setting forth that Henrietta's character had been one of rare +sweetness and virtue, and that her friends would never cease to sorrow +for her loss. A tradesman who described himself as a "monumental mason" +furnished a book of tomb designs, and Mr. Jansenius selected a highly +ornamental one, and proposed to defray half the cost of its erection. +Trefusis objected that the epitaph was untrue, and said that he did not +see why tombstones should be privileged to publish false statements. It +was reported that he had followed up his former misconduct by calling +his father-in-law a liar, and that he had ordered a common tombstone +from some cheap-jack at the East-end. He had, in fact, spoken +contemptuously of the monumental tradesman as an "exploiter" of labor, +and had asked a young working mason, a member of the International +Association, to design a monument for the gratification of Jansenius. + +The mason, with much pains and misgiving, produced an original design. +Trefusis approved of it, and resolved to have it executed by the hands +of the designer. He hired a sculptor's studio, purchased blocks of +marble of the dimensions and quality described to him by the mason, and +invited him to set to work forthwith. + +Trefusis now encountered a difficulty. He wished to pay the mason the +just value of his work, no more and no less. But this he could not +ascertain. The only available standard was the market price, and this he +rejected as being fixed by competition among capitalists who could only +secure profit by obtaining from their workmen more products than they +paid them for, and could only tempt customers by offering a share of the +unpaid-for part of the products as a reduction in price. Thus he +found that the system of withholding the indispensable materials for +production and subsistence from the laborers, except on condition of +their supporting an idle class whilst accepting a lower standard +of comfort for themselves than for that idle class, rendered the +determination of just ratios of exchange, and consequently the practice +of honest dealing, impossible. He had at last to ask the mason what he +would consider fair payment for the execution of the design, though he +knew that the man could no more solve the problem than he, and that, +though he would certainly ask as much as he thought he could get, his +demand must be limited by his poverty and by the competition of the +monumental tradesman. Trefusis settled the matter by giving double what +was asked, only imposing such conditions as were necessary to compel the +mason to execute the work himself, and not make a profit by hiring other +men at the market rate of wages to do it. + +But the design was, to its author's astonishment, to be paid +for separately. The mason, after hesitating a long time between +two-pounds-ten and five pounds, was emboldened by a fellow-workman, +who treated him to some hot whiskey and water, to name the larger sum. +Trefusis paid the money at once, and then set himself to find out how +much a similar design would have cost from the hands of an eminent +Royal Academician. Happening to know a gentleman in this position, he +consulted him, and was informed that the probable cost would be from +five hundred to one thousand pounds. Trefusis expressed his opinion that +the mason's charge was the more reasonable, somewhat to the indignation +of his artist friend, who reminded him of the years which a Royal +Academician has to spend in acquiring his skill. Trefusis mentioned that +the apprenticeship of a mason was quite as long, twice as laborious, +and not half so pleasant. The artist now began to find Trefusis's +Socialistic views, with which he had previously fancied himself in +sympathy, both odious and dangerous. He demanded whether nothing was +to be allowed for genius. Trefusis warmly replied that genius cost +its possessor nothing; that it was the inheritance of the whole race +incidentally vested in a single individual, and that if that individual +employed his monopoly of it to extort money from others, he deserved +nothing better than hanging. The artist lost his temper, and suggested +that if Trefusis could not feel that the prerogative of art was divine, +perhaps he could understand that a painter was not such a fool as to +design a tomb for five pounds when he might be painting a portrait for +a thousand. Trefusis retorted that the fact of a man paying a thousand +pounds for a portrait proved that he had not earned the money, and was +therefore either a thief or a beggar. The common workman who sacrificed +sixpence from his week's wages for a cheap photograph to present to his +sweetheart, or a shilling for a pair of chromolithographic pictures +or delft figures to place on his mantelboard, suffered greater privation +for the sake of possessing a work of art than the great landlord or +shareholder who paid a thousand pounds, which he was too rich to miss, +for a portrait that, like Hogarth's Jack Sheppard, was only interesting +to students of criminal physiognomy. A lively quarrel ensued, Trefusis +denouncing the folly of artists in fancying themselves a priestly caste +when they were obviously only the parasites and favored slaves of +the moneyed classes, and his friend (temporarily his enemy) sneering +bitterly at levellers who were for levelling down instead of levelling +up. Finally, tired of disputing, and remorseful for their acrimony, they +dined amicably together. + +The monument was placed in Highgate Cemetery by a small band of +workmen whom Trefusis found out of employment. It bore the following +inscription: + + +THIS IS THE MONUMENT OF HENRIETTA JANSENIUS WHO WAS BORN ON THE 26TH +JULY, 1856, MARRIED TO SIDNEY TREFUSIS ON THE 23RD AUGUST, 1875, AND WHO +DIED ON THE 21ST DECEMBER IN THE SAME YEAR. + +Mr. Jansenius took this as an insult to his daughter's memory, and, +as the tomb was much smaller than many which had been erected in the +cemetery by families to whom the Janseniuses claimed superiority, cited +it as an example of the widower's meanness. But by other persons it was +so much admired that Trefusis hoped it would ensure the prosperity of +its designer. The contrary happened. When the mason attempted to return +to his ordinary work he was informed that he had contravened trade +usage, and that his former employers would have nothing more to say to +him. On applying for advice and assistance to the trades-union of which +he was a member he received the same reply, and was further reproached +for treachery to his fellow-workmen. He returned to Trefusis to say +that the tombstone job had ruined him. Trefusis, enraged, wrote an +argumentative letter to the "Times," which was not inserted, a sarcastic +one to the trades-union, which did no good, and a fierce one to the +employers, who threatened to take an action for libel. He had to content +himself with setting the man to work again on mantelpieces and other +decorative stone-work for use in house property on the Trefusis +estate. In a year or two his liberal payments enabled the mason to save +sufficient to start as an employer, in which capacity he soon began to +grow rich, as he knew by experience exactly how much his workmen could +be forced to do, and how little they could be forced to take. Shortly +after this change in his circumstances he became an advocate of +thrift, temperance, and steady industry, and quitted the International +Association, of which he had been an enthusiastic supporter when +dependent on his own skill and taste as a working mason. + +During these occurrences Agatha's school-life ended. Her resolution to +study hard during another term at the college had been formed, not for +the sake of becoming learned, but that she might become more worthy of +Smilash; and when she learned the truth about him from his own lips, the +idea of returning to the scene of that humiliation became intolerable +to her. She left under the impression that her heart was broken, for +her smarting vanity, by the law of its own existence, would not perceive +that it was the seat of the injury. So she bade Miss Wilson adieu; and +the bee on the window pane was heard no more at Alton College. + +The intelligence of Henrietta's death shocked her the more because she +could not help being glad that the only other person who knew of +her folly with regard to Smilash (himself excepted) was now silenced +forever. This seemed to her a terrible discovery of her own depravity. +Under its influence she became almost religious, and caused some +anxiety about her health to her mother, who was puzzled by her unwonted +seriousness, and, in particular, by her determination not to speak +of the misconduct of Trefusis, which was now the prevailing topic +of conversation in the family. She listened in silence to gossiping +discussions of his desertion of his wife, his heartless indifference +to her decease, his violence and bad language by her deathbed, his +parsimony, his malicious opposition to the wishes of the Janseniuses, +his cheap tombstone with the insulting epitaph, his association with +common workmen and low demagogues, his suspected connection with a +secret society for the assassination of the royal family and blowing +up of the army, his atheistic denial, in a pamphlet addressed to the +clergy, of a statement by the Archbishop of Canterbury that spiritual +aid alone could improve the condition of the poor in the East-end of +London, and the crowning disgrace of his trial for seditious libel at +the Old Bailey, where he was condemned to six months' imprisonment; a +penalty from which he was rescued by the ingenuity of his counsel, who +discovered a flaw in the indictment, and succeeded, at great cost to +Trefusis, in getting the sentence quashed. Agatha at last got tired of +hearing of his misdeeds. She believed him to be heartless, selfish, and +misguided, but she knew that he was not the loud, coarse, sensual, and +ignorant brawler most of her mother's gossips supposed him to be. She +even felt, in spite of herself, an emotion of gratitude to the few who +ventured to defend him. + +Preparation for her first season helped her to forget her misadventure. +She "came out" in due time, and an extremely dull season she found it. +So much so, that she sometimes asked herself whether she should ever be +happy again. At the college there had been good fellowship, fun, rules, +and duties which were a source of strength when observed and a source +of delicious excitement when violated, freedom from ceremony, toffee +making, flights on the banisters, and appreciative audiences for the +soldier in the chimney. + +In society there were silly conversations lasting half a minute, cool +acquaintanceships founded on such half-minutes, general reciprocity +of suspicion, overcrowding, insufficient ventilation, bad music badly +executed, late hours, unwholesome food, intoxicating liquors, jealous +competition in useless expenditure, husband-hunting, flirting, dancing, +theatres, and concerts. The last three, which Agatha liked, helped to +make the contrast between Alton and London tolerable to her, but +they had their drawbacks, for good partners at the dances, and good +performances at the spiritless opera and concerts, were disappointingly +scarce. Flirting she could not endure; she drove men away when they +became tender, seeing in them the falsehood of Smilash without his wit. +She was considered rude by the younger gentlemen of her circle. They +discussed her bad manners among themselves, and agreed to punish her by +not asking her to dance. She thus got rid, without knowing why, of +the attentions she cared for least (she retained a schoolgirl's cruel +contempt for "boys"), and enjoyed herself as best she could with such of +the older or more sensible men as were not intolerant of girls. + +At best the year was the least happy she had ever spent. She repeatedly +alarmed her mother by broaching projects of becoming a hospital nurse, +a public singer, or an actress. These projects led to some desultory +studies. In order to qualify herself as a nurse she read a handbook of +physiology, which Mrs. Wylie thought so improper a subject for a young +lady that she went in tears to beg Mrs. Jansenius to remonstrate with +her unruly girl. Mrs. Jansenius, better advised, was of opinion that the +more a woman knew the more wisely she was likely to act, and that Agatha +would soon drop the physiology of her own accord. This proved true. +Agatha, having finished her book by dint of extensive skipping, +proceeded to study pathology from a volume of clinical lectures. Finding +her own sensations exactly like those described in the book as symptoms +of the direst diseases, she put it by in alarm, and took up a novel, +which was free from the fault she had found in the lectures, inasmuch +as none of the emotions it described in the least resembled any she had +ever experienced. + +After a brief interval, she consulted a fashionable teacher of singing +as to whether her voice was strong enough for the operatic stage. He +recommended her to study with him for six years, assuring her that at +the end of that period--if she followed his directions--she should be +the greatest singer in the world. To this there was, in her mind, the +conclusive objection that in six years she should be an old woman. So +she resolved to try privately whether she could not get on more quickly +by herself. Meanwhile, with a view to the drama in case her operatic +scheme should fail, she took lessons in elocution and gymnastics. +Practice in these improved her health and spirits so much that her +previous aspirations seemed too limited. She tried her hand at all the +arts in succession, but was too discouraged by the weakness of her first +attempts to persevere. She knew that as a general rule there are feeble +and ridiculous beginnings to all excellence, but she never applied +general rules to her own case, still thinking of herself as an exception +to them, just as she had done when she romanced about Smilash. The +illusions of adolescence were thick upon her. + +Meanwhile her progress was creating anxieties in which she had no share. +Her paroxysms of exhilaration, followed by a gnawing sense of failure +and uselessness, were known to her mother only as "wildness" and "low +spirits," to be combated by needlework as a sedative, or beef tea as a +stimulant. Mrs. Wylie had learnt by rote that the whole duty of a lady +is to be graceful, charitable, helpful, modest, and disinterested whilst +awaiting passively whatever lot these virtues may induce. But she +had learnt by experience that a lady's business in society is to get +married, and that virtues and accomplishments alike are important only +as attractions to eligible bachelors. As this truth is shameful, young +ladies are left for a year or two to find it out for themselves; it is +seldom explicitly conveyed to them at their entry into society. Hence +they often throw away capital bargains in their first season, and +are compelled to offer themselves at greatly reduced prices +subsequently, when their attractions begin to stale. This was the fate +which Mrs. Wylie, warned by Mrs. Jansenius, feared for Agatha, who, time +after time when a callow gentleman of wealth and position was introduced +to her, drove him brusquely away as soon as he ventured to hint that his +affections were concerned in their acquaintanceship. The anxious mother +had to console herself with the fact that her daughter drove away the +ineligible as ruthlessly as the eligible, formed no unworldly +attachments, was still very young, and would grow less coy as she +advanced in years and in what Mrs. Jansenius called sense. + +But as the seasons went by it remained questionable whether Agatha was +the more to be congratulated on having begun life after leaving school +or Henrietta on having finished it. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Brandon Beeches, in the Thames valley, was the seat of Sir Charles +Brandon, seventh baronet of that name. He had lost his father before +attaining his majority, and had married shortly afterwards; so that in +his twenty-fifth year he was father to three children. He was a little +worn, in spite of his youth, but he was tall and agreeable, had a +winning way of taking a kind and soothing view of the misfortunes of +others, could tell a story well, liked music and could play and sing +a little, loved the arts of design and could sketch a little in water +colors, read every magazine from London to Paris that criticised +pictures, had travelled a little, fished a little, shot a little, +botanized a little, wandered restlessly in the footsteps of women, and +dissipated his energies through all the small channels that his wealth +opened and his talents made easy to him. He had no large knowledge of +any subject, though he had looked into many just far enough to replace +absolute unconsciousness of them with measurable ignorance. Never having +enjoyed the sense of achievement, he was troubled with unsatisfied +aspirations that filled him with melancholy and convinced him that he +was a born artist. His wife found him selfish, peevish, hankering after +change, and prone to believe that he was attacked by dangerous disease +when he was only catching cold. + +Lady Brandon, who believed that he understood all the subjects he +talked about because she did not understand them herself, was one of +his disappointments. In person she resembled none of the types of beauty +striven after by the painters of her time, but she had charms to which +few men are insensible. She was tall, soft, and stout, with ample and +shapely arms, shoulders, and hips. With her small head, little ears, +pretty lips, and roguish eye, she, being a very large creature, +presented an immensity of half womanly, half infantile loveliness which +smote even grave men with a desire to clasp her in their arms and kiss +her. This desire had scattered the desultory intellectual culture of Sir +Charles at first sight. His imagination invested her with the taste for +the fine arts which he required from a wife, and he married her in her +first season, only to discover that the amativeness in her temperament +was so little and languid that she made all his attempts at fondness +ridiculous, and robbed the caresses for which he had longed of all their +anticipated ecstasy. Intellectually she fell still further short of his +hopes. She looked upon his favorite art of painting as a pastime for +amateur and a branch of the house-furnishing trade for professional +artists. When he was discussing it among his friends, she would +offer her opinion with a presumption which was the more trying as she +frequently blundered upon a sound conclusion whilst he was reasoning his +way to a hollow one with his utmost subtlety and seriousness. On such +occasions his disgust did not trouble her in the least; she triumphed in +it. She had concluded that marriage was a greater folly, and men greater +fools, than she had supposed; but such beliefs rather lightened her +sense of responsibility than disappointed her, and, as she had plenty of +money, plenty of servants, plenty of visitors, and plenty of exercise +on horseback, of which she was immoderately fond, her time passed +pleasantly enough. Comfort seemed to her the natural order of life; +trouble always surprised her. Her husband's friends, who mistrusted +every future hour, and found matter for bitter reflection in many past +ones, were to her only examples of the power of sedentary habits and +excessive reading to make men tripped and dull. + +One fine May morning, as she cantered along the avenue at Brandon +Beeches on a powerful bay horse, the gates at the end opened and a young +man sped through them on a bicycle. He was of slight frame, with fine +dark eyes and delicate nostrils. When he recognized Lady Brandon he +waved his cap, and when they met he sprang from his inanimate steed, at +which the bay horse shied. + +"Don't, you silly beast!" she cried, whacking the animal with the butt +of her whip. "Though it's natural enough, goodness knows! How d'ye do? +The idea of anyone rich enough to afford a horse riding on a wheel like +that!" + +"But I am not rich enough to afford a horse," he said, approaching her +to pat the bay, having placed the bicycle against a tree. "Besides, I am +afraid of horses, not being accustomed to them; and I know nothing about +feeding them. My steed needs no food. He doesn't bite nor kick. He never +goes lame, nor sickens, nor dies, nor needs a groom, nor--" + +"That's all bosh," said Lady Brandon impetuously. "It stumbles, and +gives you the most awful tosses, and it goes lame by its treadles and +thingamejigs coming off, and it wears out, and is twice as much trouble +to keep clean and scrape the mud off as a horse, and all sorts of +things. I think the most ridiculous sight in the world is a man on a +bicycle, working away with his feet as hard as he possibly can, and +believing that his horse is carrying him instead of, as anyone can see, +he carrying the horse. You needn't tell me that it isn't easier to walk +in the ordinary way than to drag a great dead iron thing along with you. +It's not good sense." + +"Nevertheless I can carry it a hundred miles further in a day than I can +carry myself alone. Such are the marvels of machinery. But I know that +we cut a very poor figure beside you and that magnificent creature not +that anyone will look at me whilst you are by to occupy their attention +so much more worthily." + +She darted a glance at him which clouded his vision and made his heart +beat more strongly. This was an old habit of hers. She kept it up from +love of fun, having no idea of the effect it produced on more ardent +temperaments than her own. He continued hastily: + +"Is Sir Charles within doors?" + +"Oh, it's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of in my life," she +exclaimed. "A man that lives by himself in a place down by the Riverside +Road like a toy savings bank--don't you know the things I mean?--called +Sallust's House, says there is a right of way through our new pleasure +ground. As if anyone could have any right there after all the money we +have spent fencing it on three sides, and building up the wall by the +road, and levelling, and planting, and draining, and goodness knows what +else! And now the man says that all the common people and tramps in the +neighborhood have a right to walk across it because they are too lazy to +go round by the road. Sir Charles has gone to see the man about it. Of +course he wouldn't do as I wanted him." + +"What was that?" + +"Write to tell the man to mind his own business, and to say that the +first person we found attempting to trespass on our property should be +given to the police." + +"Then I shall find no one at home. I beg your pardon for calling it so, +but it is the only place like home to me." + +"Yes; it is so comfortable since we built the billiard room and took +away those nasty hangings in the hall. I was ever so long trying to +per--" + +She was interrupted by an old laborer, who hobbled up as fast as his +rheumatism would allow him, and began to speak without further ceremony +than snatching off his cap. + +"Th'ave coom to the noo groups, my lady, crowds of 'em. An' a parson +with 'em, an' a flag! Sur Chorles he don't know what to say; an' sooch +doin's never was." + +Lady Brandon turned pale and pulled at her horse as if to back him out +of some danger. Her visitor, puzzled, asked the old man what he meant. + +"There's goin' to be a proceyshon through the noo groups," he replied, +"an' the master can't stop 'em. Th'ave throon down the wall; three yards +of it is lyin' on Riverside Road. An' there's a parson with 'em, and a +flag. An' him that lives in Sallust's hoos, he's there, hoddin''em on." + +"Thrown down the wall!" exclaimed Lady Brandon, scarlet with indignation +and pale with apprehension by turns. "What a disgraceful thing! Where +are the police? Chester, will you come with me and see what they are +doing? Sir Charles is no use. Do you think there is any danger?" + +"There's two police," said the old man, "an' him that lives at Sallust's +dar'd them stop him. They're lookin' on. An' there's a parson among 'em. +I see him pullin' away at the wall with his own han's." + +"I will go and see the fun," said Chester. + +Lady Brandon hesitated. But her anger and curiosity vanquished her +fears. She overtook the bicycle, and they went together through the +gates and by the highroad to the scene the old man had described. A heap +of bricks and mortar lay in the roadway on each side of a breach in +the newly built wall, over which Lady Brandon, from her eminence on +horseback, could see, coming towards her across the pleasure ground, a +column of about thirty persons. They marched three abreast in good order +and in silence; the expression of all except a few mirthful faces being +that of devotees fulfilling a rite. The gravity of the procession was +deepened by the appearance of a clergyman in its ranks, which were +composed of men of the middle class, and a few workmen carrying a banner +inscribed THE SOIL or ENGLAND THE BIRTHRIGHT OF ALL HER PEOPLE. There +were also four women, upon whom Lady Brandon looked with intense +indignation and contempt. None of the men of the neighborhood had dared +to join; they stood in the road whispering, and occasionally venturing +to laugh at the jests of a couple of tramps who had stopped to see the +fun, and who cared nothing for Sir Charles. + +He, standing a little way within the field, was remonstrating angrily +with a man of his own class, who stood with his back to the breach and +his hands in the pockets of his snuff-colored clothes, contemplating +the procession with elate satisfaction. Lady Brandon, at once suspecting +that this was the man from Sallust's House, and encouraged by the +loyalty of the crowd, most of whom made way for her and touched their +hats, hit the bay horse smartly with her whip and rode him, with a +clatter of hoofs and scattering of clods, right at the snuff-colored +enemy, who had to spring hastily aside to avoid her. There was a roar +of laughter from the roadway, and the man turned sharply on her. But he +suddenly smiled affably, replaced his hands in his pockets after raising +his hat, and said: + +"How do you do, Miss Carpenter? I thought you were a charge of cavalry." + +"I am not Miss Carpenter, I am Lady Brandon; and you ought to be +ashamed of yourself, Mr. Smilash, if it is you that have brought these +disgraceful people here." + +His eyes as he replied were eloquent with reproach to her for being +no longer Miss Carpenter. "I am not Smilash," he said; "I am Sidney +Trefusis. I have just had the pleasure of meeting Sir Charles for +the first time, and we shall be the best friends possible when I have +convinced him that it is hardly fair to seize on a path belonging to +the people and compel them to walk a mile and a half round his estate +instead of four hundred yards between two portions of it." + +"I have already told you, sir," said Sir Charles, "that I intend to open +a still shorter path, and to allow all the well-conducted work-people to +pass through twice a day. This will enable them to go to their work +and return from it; and I will be at the cost of keeping the path in +repair." + +"Thank you," said Trefusis drily; "but why should we trouble you when +we have a path of our own to use fifty times a day if we choose, +without any man barring our way until our conduct happens to please him? +Besides, your next heir would probably shut the path up the moment he +came into possession." + +"Offering them a path is just what makes them impudent," said Lady +Brandon to her husband. "Why did you promise them anything? They would +not think it a hardship to walk a mile and a half, or twenty miles, to +a public-house, but when they go to their work they think it dreadful +to have to walk a yard. Perhaps they would like us to lend them the +wagonette to drive in?" + +"I have no doubt they would," said Trefusis, beaming at her. + +"Pray leave me to manage here, Jane; this is no place for you. Bring +Erskine to the house. He must be--" + +"Why don't the police make them go away?" said Lady Brandon, too excited +to listen to her husband. + +"Hush, Jane, pray. What can three men do against thirty or forty?" + +"They ought to take up somebody as an example to the rest." + +"They have offered, in the handsomest manner, to arrest me if Sir +Charles will give me in charge," said Trefusis. + +"There!" said Lady Jane, turning to her husband. "Why don't you give +him--or someone--in charge?" + +"You know nothing about it," said Sir Charles, vexed by a sense that she +was publicly making him ridiculous. + +"If you don't, I will," she persisted. "The idea of having our ground +broken into and our new wall knocked down! A nice state of things it +would be if people were allowed to do as they liked with other peoples' +property. I will give every one of them in charge." + +"Would you consign me to a dungeon?" said Trefusis, in melancholy tones. + +"I don't mean you exactly," she said, relenting. "But I will give +that clergyman into charge, because he ought to know better. He is the +ringleader of the whole thing." + +"He will be delighted, Lady Brandon; he pines for martyrdom. But will +you really give him into custody?" + +"I will," she said vehemently, emphasizing the assurance by a plunge in +the saddle that made the bay stagger. + +"On what charge?" he said, patting the horse and looking up at her. + +"I don't care what charge," she replied, conscious that she was being +admired, and not displeased. "Let them take him up, that's all." + +Human beings on horseback are so far centaurs that liberties taken with +their horses are almost as personal as liberties taken with themselves. +When Sir Charles saw Trefusis patting the bay he felt as much outraged +as if Lady Brandon herself were being patted, and he felt bitterly +towards her for permitting the familiarity. He uas relieved by the +arrival of the procession. It halted as the leader came up to Trefusis, +who said gravely: + +"Gentlemen, I congratulate you on the firmness with which you have this +day asserted the rights of the people of this place to the use of one of +the few scraps of mother earth of which they have not been despoiled." + +"Gentlemen," shouted an excited member of the procession, "three cheers +for the resumption of the land of England by the people of England! Hip, +hip, hurrah!" + +The cheers were given with much spirit, Sir Charles's cheeks becoming +redder at each repetition. He looked angrily at the clergyman, now +distracted by the charms of Lady Brandon, whose scorn, as she surveyed +the crowd, expressed itself by a pout which became her pretty lips +extremely. + +Then a middle-aged laborer stepped from the road into the field, hat in +hand, ducked respectfully, and said: "Look 'e here, Sir Charles. Don't +'e mind them fellers. There ain't a man belonging to this neighborhood +among 'em; not one in your employ or on your land. Our dooty to you and +your ladyship, and we will trust to you to do what is fair by us. We +want no interlopers from Lunnon to get us into trouble with your honor, +and--" + +"You unmitigated cur," exclaimed Trefusis fiercely, "what right have you +to give away to his unborn children the liberty of your own?" + +"They're not unborn," said Lady Brandon indignantly. "That just shows +how little you know about it." + +"No, nor mine either," said the man, emboldened by her ladyship's +support. "And who are you that call me a cur?" + +"Who am I! I am a rich man--one of your masters, and privileged to call +you what I please. You are a grovelling famine-broken slave. Now go and +seek redress against me from the law. I can buy law enough to ruin you +for less money than it would cost me to shoot deer in Scotland or vermin +here. How do you like that state of things? Eh?" + +The man was taken aback. "Sir Charles will stand by me," he said, after +a pause, with assumed confidence, but with an anxious glance at the +baronet. + +"If he does, after witnessing the return you have made me for standing +by you, he is a greater fool than I take him to be." + +"Gently, gently," said the clergyman. "There is much excuse to be made +for the poor fellow." + +"As gently as you please with any man that is a free man at heart," said +Trefusis; "but slaves must be driven, and this fellow is a slave to the +marrow." + +"Still, we must be patient. He does not know--" + +"He knows a great deal better than you do," said Lady Brandon, +interrupting. "And the more shame for you, because you ought to know +best. I suppose you were educated somewhere. You will not be satisfied +with yourself when your bishop hears of this. Yes," she added, turning +to Trefusis with an infantile air of wanting to cry and being forced +to laugh against her will, "you may laugh as much as you please--don't +trouble to pretend it's only coughing--but we will write to his bishop, +as he shall find to his cost." + +"Hold your tongue, Jane, for God's sake," said Sir Charles, taking her +horse by the bridle and backing him from Trefusis. + +"I will not. If you choose to stand here and allow them to walk away +with the walls in their pockets, I don't, and won't. Why cannot you make +the police do something?" + +"They can do nothing," said Sir Charles, almost beside himself with +humiliation. "I cannot do anything until I see my solicitor. How can you +bear to stay here wrangling with these fellows? It is SO undignified!" + +"It's all very well to talk of dignity, but I don't see the dignity of +letting people trample on our grounds without leave. Mr. Smilash, +will you make them all go away, and tell them that they shall all be +prosecuted and put in prison?" + +"They are going to the crossroads, to hold a public meeting and--of +course--make speeches. I am desired to say that they deeply regret that +their demonstration should have disturbed you personally, Lady Brandon." + +"So they ought," she replied. "They don't look very sorry. They are +getting frightened at what they have done, and they would be glad to +escape the consequences by apologizing, most likely. But they shan't. I +am not such a fool as they think." + +"They don't think so. You have proved the contrary." + +"Jane," said Sir Charles pettishly, "do you know this gentleman?" + +"I should think I do," said Lady Brandon emphatically. + +Trefusis bowed as if he had just been formally introduced to the +baronet, who, against his will, returned the salutation stiffly, unable +to ignore an older, firmer, and quicker man under the circumstances. + +"This seems an unneighborly business, Sir Charles," said Trefusis, quite +at his ease; "but as it is a public question, it need not prejudice our +private relations. At least I hope not." + +Sir Charles bowed again, more stiffly than before. + +"I am, like you, a capitalist and landlord." + +"Which it seems to me you have no right to be, if you are in earnest," +struck in Chester, who had been watching the scene in silence by Sir +Charles's side. + +"Which, as you say, I have undoubtedly no right to be," said Trefusis, +surveying him with interest; "but which I nevertheless cannot help +being. Have I the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Chichester Erskine, author +of a tragedy entitled 'The Patriot Martyrs,' dedicated with enthusiastic +devotion to the Spirit of Liberty and half a dozen famous upholders of +that principle, and denouncing in forcible language the tyranny of the +late Tsar of Russia, Bomba of Naples, and Napoleon the Third?" + +"Yes, sir," said Erskine, reddening; for he felt that this description +might make his drama seem ridiculous to those present who had not read +it. + +"Then," said Trefusis, extending his hand--Erskine at first thought for +a hearty shake--"give me half-a-crown towards the cost of our expedition +here to-day to assert the right of the people to tread the soil we are +standing upon." + +"You shall do nothing of the sort, Chester," cried Lady Brandon. "I +never heard of such a thing in my life! Do you pay us for the wall and +fence your people have broken, Mr. Smilash; that would be more to the +purpose." + +"If I could find a thousand men as practical as you, Lady Brandon, +I might accomplish the next great revolution before the end of this +season." He looked at her for a moment curiously, as if trying to +remember; and then added inconsequently: "How are your friends? There +was a Miss--Miss--I am afraid I have forgotten all the names except your +own." + +"Gertrude Lindsay is staying with us. Do you remember her?" + +"I think--no, I am afraid I do not. Let me see. Was she a haughty young +lady?" + +"Yes," said Lady Brandon eagerly, forgetting the wall and fence. "But +who do you think is coming next Thursday? I met her accidentally the +last time I was in town. She's not a bit changed. You can't forget her, +so don't pretend to be puzzled." + +"You have not told me who she is yet. And I shall probably not remember +her. You must not expect me to recognize everyone instantaneously, as I +recognized you." + +"What stuff! You will know Agatha fast enough." + +"Agatha Wylie!" he said, with sudden gravity. + +"Yes. She is coming on Thursday. Are you glad?" + +"I fear I shall have no opportunity of seeing her." + +"Oh, of course you must see her. It will be so jolly for us all to meet +again just as we used. Why can't you come to luncheon on Thursday?" + +"I shall be delighted, if you will really allow me to come after my +conduct here." + +"The lawyers will settle that. Now that you have found out who we are +you will stop pulling down our walls, of course." + +"Of course," said Trefusis, smiling, as he took out a pocket diary and +entered the engagement. "I must hurry away to the crossroads. They have +probably voted me into the chair by this time, and are waiting for me +to open their meeting. Good-bye. You have made this place, which I was +growing tired of, unexpectedly interesting to me." + +They exchanged glances of the old college pattern. Then he nodded to +Sir Charles, waved his hand familiarly to Erskine, and followed the +procession, which was by this time out of sight. + +Sir Charles, who, waiting to speak, had been repeatedly baffled by the +hasty speeches of his wife and the unhesitating replies of Trefusis, now +turned angrily upon her, saying: + +"What do you mean by inviting that fellow to my house?" + +"Your house, indeed! I will invite whom I please. You are getting into +one of your tempers." + +Sir Charles looked about him. Erskine had discreetly slipped away, and +was in the road, tightening a screw in his bicycle. The few persons who +remained were out of earshot. + +"Who and what the devil is he, and how do you come to know him?" he +demanded. He never swore in the presence of any lady except his wife, +and then only when they were alone. + +"He is a gentleman, which is more than you are," she retorted, and, with +a cut of her whip that narrowly missed her husband's shoulder, sent the +bay plunging through the gap. + +"Come along," she said to Erskine. "We shall be late for luncheon." + +"Had we not better wait for Sir Charles?" he asked injudiciously. + +"Never mind Sir Charles, he is in the sulks," she said, without abating +her voice. "Come along." And she went off at a canter, Erskine following +her with a misgiving that his visit was unfortunately timed. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +On the following Thursday Gertrude, Agatha, and Jane met for the first +time since they had parted at Alton College. Agatha was the shyest of +the three, and externally the least changed. She fancied herself very +different from the Agatha of Alton; but it was her opinion of herself +that had altered, not her person. Expecting to find a corresponding +alteration in her friends, she had looked forward to the meeting with +much doubt and little hope of its proving pleasant. + +She was more anxious about Gertrude than about Jane, concerning whom, +at a brief interview in London, she had already discovered that Lady +Brandon's manner, mind, and speech were just what Miss Carpenter's had +been. But, even from Agatha, Jane commanded more respect than before, +having changed from an overgrown girl into a fine woman, and made a +brilliant match in her first season, whilst many of her pretty, proud, +and clever contemporaries, whom she had envied at school, were still +unmarried, and were having their homes made uncomfortable by parents +anxious to get rid of the burthen of supporting them, and to profit in +purse or position by their marriages. + +This was Gertrude's case. Like Agatha, she had thrown away her +matrimonial opportunities. Proud of her rank and exclusiveness, she had +resolved to have as little as possible to do with persons who did not +share both with her. She began by repulsing the proffered acquaintance +of many families of great wealth and fashion, who either did not know +their grandparents or were ashamed of them. Having shut herself out of +their circle, she was presented at court, and thenceforth accepted the +invitations of those only who had, in her opinion, a right to the same +honor. And she was far stricter on that point than the Lord Chamberlain, +who had, she held, betrayed his trust by practically turning Leveller. +She was well educated, refined in her manners and habits, skilled in +etiquette to an extent irritating to the ignorant, and gifted with +a delicate complexion, pearly teeth, and a face that would have been +Grecian but for a slight upward tilt of the nose and traces of a square, +heavy type in the jaw. Her father was a retired admiral, with sufficient +influence to have had a sinecure made by a Conservative government +expressly for the maintenance of his son pending alliance with some +heiress. Yet Gertrude remained single, and the admiral, who had formerly +spent more money than he could comfortably afford on her education, +and was still doing so upon her state and personal adornment, was +complaining so unpleasantly of her failure to get taken off his hands, +that she could hardly bear to live at home, and was ready to marry any +thoroughbred gentleman, however unsuitable his age or character, who +would relieve her from her humiliating dependence. She was prepared to +sacrifice her natural desire for youth, beauty, and virtue in a husband +if she could escape from her parents on no easier terms, but she was +resolved to die an old maid sooner than marry an upstart. + +The difficulty in her way was pecuniary. The admiral was poor. He +had not quite six thousand a year, and though he practiced the utmost +economy in order to keep up the most expensive habits, he could not +afford to give his daughter a dowry. Now the well born bachelors of +her set, having more blue bood, but much less wealth, than they needed, +admired her, paid her compliments, danced with her, but could not afford +to marry her. Some of them even told her so, married rich daughters of +tea merchants, iron founders, or successful stocktrokers, and then tried +to make matches between her and their lowly born brothers-in-law. + +So, when Gertrude met Lady Brandon, her lot was secretly wretched, and +she was glad to accept an invitation to Brandon Beeches in order to +escape for a while from the admiral's daily sarcasms on the marriage +list in the "Times." The invitation was the more acceptable because Sir +Charles was no mushroom noble, and, in the schooldays which Gertrude now +remembered as the happiest of her life, she had acknowledged that Jane's +family and connections were more aristocratic than those of any other +student then at Alton, herself excepted. To Agatha, whose grandfather +had amassed wealth as a proprietor of gasworks (novelties in his time), +she had never offered her intimacy. Agatha had taken it by force, partly +moral, partly physical. But the gasworks were never forgotten, and when +Lady Brandon mentioned, as a piece of delightful news, that she had +found out their old school companion, and had asked her to join them, +Gertrude was not quite pleased. Yet, when they met, her eyes were the +only wet ones there, for she was the least happy of the three, and, +though she did not know it, her spirit was somewhat broken. Agatha, she +thought, had lost the bloom of girlhood, but was bolder, stronger, +and cleverer than before. Agatha had, in fact, summoned all her +self-possession to hide her shyness. She detected the emotion of +Gertrude, who at the last moment did not try to conceal it. It would +have been poured out freely in words, had Gertrude's social training +taught her to express her feelings as well as it had accustomed her to +dissemble them. + +"Do you remember Miss Wilson?" said Jane, as the three drove from the +railway station to Brandon Beeches. "Do you remember Mrs. Miller and +her cat? Do you remember the Recording Angel? Do you remember how I fell +into the canal?" + +These reminiscences lasted until they reached the house and went +together to Agatha's room. Here Jane, having some orders to give in +the household, had to leave them--reluctantly; for she was jealous +lest Gertrude should get the start of her in the renewal of Agatha's +affection. She even tried to take her rival away with her; but in vain. +Gertrude would not budge. + +"What a beautiful house and splendid place!" said Agatha when Jane was +gone. "And what a nice fellow Sir Charles is! We used to laugh at Jane, +but she can afford to laugh at the luckiest of us now. I always said she +would blunder into the best of everything. Is it true that she married +in her first season?" + +"Yes. And Sir Charles is a man of great culture. I cannot understand it. +Her size is really beyond everything, and her manners are bad." + +"Hm!" said Agatha with a wise air. "There was always something about +Jane that attracted men. And she is more knave than fool. But she is +certainly a great ass." + +Gertrude looked serious, to imply that she had grown out of the habit +of using or listening to such language. Agatha, stimulated by this, +continued: + +"Here are you and I, who consider ourselves twice as presentable and +conversable as she, two old maids." Gertrude winced, and Agatha hastened +to add: "Why, as for you, you are perfectly lovely! And she has asked us +down expressly to marry us." + +"She would not presume--" + +"Nonsense, my dear Gertrude. She thinks that we are a couple of fools +who have mismanaged our own business, and that she, having managed so +well for herself, can settle us in a jiffy. Come, did she not say to +you, before I came, that it was time for me to be getting married?" + +"Well, she did. But--" + +"She said exactly the same thing to me about you when she invited me." + +"I would leave her house this moment," said Gertrude, "if I thought she +dared meddle in my affairs. What is it to her whether I am married or +not?" + +"Where have you been living all these years, if you do not know that the +very first thing a woman wants to do when she has made a good match is +to make ones for all her spinster friends. Jane does not mean any harm. +She does it out of pure benevolence." + +"I do not need Jane's benevolence." + +"Neither do I; but it doesn't do any harm, and she is welcome to amuse +herself by trotting out her male acquaintances for my approval. Hush! +Here she comes." + +Gertrude subsided. She could not quarrel with Lady Brandon without +leaving the house, and she could not leave the house without returning +to her home. But she privately resolved to discourage the attentions +of Erskine, suspecting that instead of being in love with her as he +pretended, he had merely been recommended by Jane to marry her. + +Chichester Erskine had made sketches in Palestine with Sir Charles, and +had tramped with him through many European picture galleries. He was a +young man of gentle birth, and had inherited fifteen hundred a year from +his mother, the bulk of the family property being his elder brother's. +Having no profession, and being fond of books and pictures, he had +devoted himself to fine art, a pursuit which offered him on the cheapest +terms a high opinion of the beauty and capacity of his own nature. He +had published a tragedy entitled, "The Patriot Martyrs," with an etched +frontispiece by Sir Charles, and an edition of it had been speedily +disposed of in presentations to the friends of the artist and poet, +and to the reviews and newspapers. Sir Charles had asked an eminent +tragedian of his acquaintance to place the work on the stage and to +enact one of the patriot martyrs. But the tragedian had objected that +the other patriot martyrs had parts of equal importance to that proposed +for him. Erskine had indignantly refused to cut these parts down or out, +and so the project had fallen through. + +Since then Erskine had been bent on writing another drama, without +regard to the exigencies of the stage, but he had not yet begun it, in +consequence of his inspiration coming upon him at inconvenient hours, +chiefly late at night, when he had been drinking, and had leisure for +sonnets only. The morning air and bicycle riding were fatal to the +vein in which poetry struck him as being worth writing. In spite of the +bicycle, however, the drama, which was to be entitled "Hypatia," was +now in a fair way to be written, for the poet had met and fallen in love +with Gertrude Lindsay, whose almost Grecian features, and some knowledge +of the different calculua which she had acquired at Alton, helped him to +believe that she was a fit model for his heroine. + +When the ladies came downstairs they found their host and Erskine in the +picture gallery, famous in the neighborhood for the sum it had cost Sir +Charles. There was a new etching to be admired, and they were called on +to observe what the baronet called its tones, and what Agatha would have +called its degrees of smudginess. Sir Charles's attention often wandered +from this work of art. He looked at his watch twice, and said to his +wife: + +"I have ordered them to be punctual with the luncheon." + +"Oh, yes; it's all right," said Lady Brandon, who had given orders that +luncheon was not to be served until the arrival of another gentleman. +"Show Agatha the picture of the man in the--" + +"Mr. Trefusis," said a servant. + +Mr. Trefusis, still in snuff color, entered; coat unbuttoned and +attention unconstrained; exasperatingly unconscious of any occasion for +ceremony. + +"Here you are at last," said Lady Brandon. "You know everybody, don't +you?" + +"How do you do?" said Sir Charles, offering his hand as a severe +expression of his duty to his wife's guest, who took it cordially, +nodded to Erskine, looked without recognition at Gertrude, whose frosty +stillness repudiated Lady Brandon's implication that the stranger was +acquainted with her, and turned to Agatha, to whom he bowed. She made no +sign; she was paralyzed. Lady Brandon reddened with anger. Sir Charles +noted his guest's reception with secret satisfaction, but shared the +embarrassment which oppressed all present except Trefusis, who seemed +quite indifferent and assured, and unconsciously produced an impression +that the others had not been equal to the occasion, as indeed they had +not. + +"We were looking at some etchings when you came in," said Sir Charles, +hastening to break the silence. "Do you care for such things?" And he +handed him a proof. + +Trefusis looked at it as if he had never seen such a thing before and +did not quite know what to make of it. "All these scratches seem to me +to have no meaning," he said dubiously. + +Sir Charles stole a contemptuous smile and significant glance at +Erskine. He, seized already with an instinctive antipathy to Trefusis, +said emphatically: + +"There is not one of those scratches that has not a meaning." + +"That one, for instance, like the limb of a daddy-long-legs. What does +that mean?" + +Erskine hesitated a moment; recovered himself; and said: "Obviously +enough--to me at least--it indicates the marking of the roadway." + +"Not a bit of it," said Trefusis. "There never was such a mark as that +on a road. It may be a very bad attempt at a briar, but briars don't +straggle into the middle of roads frequented as that one seems to +be--judging by those overdone ruts." He put the etching away, showing no +disposition to look further into the portfolio, and remarked, "The only +art that interests me is photography." + +Erskine and Sir Charles again exchanged glances, and the former said: + +"Photography is not an art in the sense in which I understand the term. +It is a process." + +"And a much less troublesome and more perfect process than that," said +Trefusis, pointing to the etching. "The artists are sticking to the old +barbarous, difficult, and imperfect processes of etching and portrait +painting merely to keep up the value of their monopoly of the required +skill. They have left the new, more complexly organized, and more +perfect, yet simple and beautiful method of photography in the hands +of tradesmen, sneering at it publicly and resorting to its aid +surreptitiously. The result is that the tradesmen are becoming better +artists than they, and naturally so; for where, as in photography, +the drawing counts for nothing, the thought and judgment count for +everything; whereas in the etching and daubing processes, where great +manual skill is needed to produce anything that the eye can endure, the +execution counts for more than the thought, and if a fellow only fit +to carry bricks up a ladder or the like has ambition and perseverance +enough to train his hand and push into the van, you cannot afford to put +him back into his proper place, because thoroughly trained hands are +so scarce. Consider the proof of this that you have in literature. Our +books are manually the work of printers and papermakers; you may cut +an author's hand off and he is as good an author as before. What is the +result? There is more imagination in any number of a penny journal than +in half-a-dozen of the Royal Academy rooms in the season. No author +can live by his work and be as empty-headed as an average successful +painter. Again, consider our implements of music--our pianofortes, for +example. Nobody but an acrobat will voluntarily spend years at such a +difficult mechanical puzzle as the keyboard, and so we have to take our +impressions of Beethoven's sonatas from acrobats who vie with each other +in the rapidity of their prestos, or the staying power of their +left wrists. Thoughtful men will not spend their lives acquiring +sleight-of-hand. Invent a piano which will respond as delicately to +the turning of a handle as our present ones do to the pressure of the +fingers, and the acrobats will be driven back to their carpets and +trapezes, because the sole faculty necessary to the executant musician +will be the musical faculty, and no other will enable him to obtain a +hearing." + +The company were somewhat overcome by this unexpected lecture. Sir +Charles, feeling that such views bore adversely on him, and were somehow +iconoclastic and low-lived, was about to make a peevish retort, when +Erskine forestalled him by asking Trefusis what idea he had formed of +the future of the arts. He replied promptly. "Photography perfected +in its recently discovered power of reproducing color as well as form! +Historical pictures replaced by photographs of tableaux vivants formed +and arranged by trained actors and artists, and used chiefly for the +instruction of children. Nine-tenths of painting as we understand it at +present extinguished by the competition of these photographs, and +the remaining tenth only holding its own against them by dint of +extraordinary excellence! Our mistuned and unplayable organs and +pianofortes replaced by harmonious instruments, as manageable as +barrel organs! Works of fiction superseded by interesting company +and conversation, and made obsolete by the human mind outgrowing the +childishness that delights in the tales told by grownup children such as +novelists and their like! An end to the silly confusion, under the one +name of Art, of the tomfoolery and make-believe of our play-hours with +the higher methods of teaching men to know themselves! Every artist an +amateur, and a consequent return to the healthy old disposition to look +on every man who makes art a means of money-getting as a vagabond not to +be entertained as an equal by honest men!" + +"In which case artists will starve, and there will be no more art." + +"Sir," said Trefusis, excited by the word, "I, as a Socialist, can tell +you that starvation is now impossible, except where, as in England, +masterless men are forcibly prevented from producing the food they +need. And you, as an artist, can tell me that at present great artists +invariably do starve, except when they are kept alive by charity, +private fortune, or some drudgery which hinders them in the pursuit of +their vocation." + +"Oh!" said Erskine. "Then Socialists have some little sympathy with +artists after all." + +"I fear," said Trefusis, repressing himself and speaking quietly again, +"that when a Socialist hears of a hundred pounds paid for a drawing +which Andrea del Sarto was glad to sell for tenpence, his heart is not +wrung with pity for the artist's imaginary loss as that of a modern +capitalist is. Yet that is the only way nowadays of enlisting sympathy +for the old masters. Frightful disability, to be out of the reach of +the dearest market when you want to sell your drawings! But," he added, +giving himself a shake, and turning round gaily, "I did not come here +to talk shop. So--pending the deluge--let us enjoy ourselves after our +manner." + +"No," said Jane. "Please go on about Art. It's such a relief to hear +anyone talking sensibly about it. I hate etching. It makes your eyes +sore--at least the acid gets into Sir Charles's, and the difference +between the first and second states is nothing but imagination, except +that the last state is worse than the--here's luncheon!" + +They went downstairs then. Trefusis sat between Agatha and Lady Brandon, +to whom he addressed all his conversation. They chatted without much +interruption from the business of the table; for Jane, despite her +amplitude, had a small appetite, and was fearful of growing fat; whilst +Trefusis was systematically abstemious. Sir Charles was unusually +silent. He was afraid to talk about art, lest he should be contradicted +by Trefusis, who, he already felt, cared less and perhaps knew more +about it than he. Having previously commented to Agatha on the beauty of +the ripening spring, and inquired whether her journey had fatigued her, +he had said as much as he could think of at a first meeting. For her +part, she was intent on Trefusis, who, though he must know, she thought, +that they were all hostile to him except Jane, seemed as confident now +as when he had befooled her long ago. That thought set her teeth on +edge. She did not doubt the sincerity of her antipathy to him even when +she detected herself in the act of protesting inwardly that she was not +glad to meet him again, and that she would not speak to him. Gertrude, +meanwhile, was giving short answers to Erskine and listening to +Trefusis. She had gathered from the domestic squabbles of the last +few days that Lady Brandon, against her husband's will, had invited a +notorious demagogue, the rich son of a successful cotton-spinner, to +visit the Beeches. She had made up her mind to snub any such man. But on +recognizing the long-forgotten Smilash, she had been astonished, and +had not known what to do. So, to avoid doing anything improper, she had +stood stilly silent and done nothing, as the custom of English ladies in +such cases is. Subsequently, his unconscious self-assertion had wrought +with her as with the others, and her intention of snubbing him had faded +into the limbo of projects abandoned without trial. Erskine alone was +free from the influence of the intruder. He wished himself elsewhere; +but beside Gertrude the presence or absence of any other person troubled +him very little. + +"How are the Janseniuses?" said Trefusis, suddenly turning to Agatha. + +"They are quite well, thank you," she said in measured tones. + +"I met John Jansenius in the city lately. You know Jansenius?" he added +parenthetically to Sir Charles. "Cotman's bank--the last Cotman died +out of the firm before we were born. The Chairman of the Transcanadian +Railway Company." + +"I know the name. I am seldom in the city." + +"Naturally," assented Trefusis; "for who would sadden himself by pushing +his way through a crowd of such slaves, if he could help it? I mean +slaves of Mammon, of course. To run the gauntlet of their faces in +Cornhill is enough to discourage a thoughtful man for hours. Well, +Jansenius, being high in the court of Mammon, is looking out for a good +post in the household for his son. Jansenius, by-the-bye is Miss Wylie's +guardian and the father of my late wife." + +Agatha felt inclined to deny this; but, as it was true, she had to +forbear. Resolved to show that the relations between her family and +Trefusis were not cordial ones, she asked deliberately, "Did Mr. +Jansenius speak to you?" + +Gertrude looked up, as if she thought this scarcely ladylike. + +"Yes," said Trefusis. "We are the best friends in the world--as good as +possible, at any rate. He wanted me to subscribe to a fund for relieving +the poor at the east end of London by assisting them to emigrate." + +"I presume you subscribed liberally," said Erskine. "It was an +opportunity of doing some practical good." + +"I did not," said Trefusis, grinning at the sarcasm. "This Transcanadian +Railway Company, having got a great deal of spare land from the Canadian +government for nothing, thought it would be a good idea to settle +British workmen on it and screw rent out of them. Plenty of British +workmen, supplanted in their employment by machinery, or cheap foreign +labor, or one thing or another, were quite willing to go; but as they +couldn't afford to pay their passages to Canada, the Company appealed +to the benevolent to pay for them by subscription, as the change would +improve their miserable condition. I did not see why I should pay to +provide a rich company with tenant farmers, and I told Jansenius so. +He remarked that when money and not talk was required, the workmen of +England soon found out who were their real friends." + +"I know nothing about these questions," said Sir Charles, with an air +of conclusiveness; "but I see no objection to emigration." "The fact +is," said Trefusis, "the idea of emigration is a dangerous one for us. +Familiarize the workman with it, and some day he may come to see what a +capital thing it would be to pack off me, and you, with the peerage, +and the whole tribe of unprofitable proprietors such as we are, to St. +Helena; making us a handsome present of the island by way of indemnity! +We are such a restless, unhappy lot, that I doubt whether it would not +prove a good thing for us too. The workmen would lose nothing but the +contemplation of our elegant persons, exquisite manners, and refined +tastes. They might provide against that loss by picking out a few of +us to keep for ornament's sake. No nation with a sense of beauty would +banish Lady Brandon, or Miss Lindsay, or Miss Wylie." + +"Such nonsense!" said Jane. + +"You would hardly believe how much I have spent in sending workmen out +of the country against my own view of the country's interest," continued +Trefusis, addressing Erskine. "When I make a convert among the working +classes, the first thing he does is to make a speech somewhere declaring +his new convictions. His employer immediately discharges him--'gives +him the sack' is the technical phrase. The sack is the sword of the +capitalist, and hunger keeps it sharp for him. His shield is the law, +made for the purpose by his own class. Thus equipped, he gives the worst +of it to my poor convert, who comes ruined to me for assistance. As I +cannot afford to pension him for life, I get rid of him by assisting him +to emigrate. Sometimes he prospers and repays me; sometimes I hear no +more of him; sometimes he comes back with his habits unsettled. One +man whom I sent to America made his fortune, but he was not a social +democrat; he was a clerk who had embezzled, and who applied to me for +assistance under the impression that I considered it rather meritorious +to rob the till of a capitalist." + +"He was a practical Socialist, in fact," said Erskine. + +"On the contrary, he was a somewhat too grasping Individualist. Howbeit, +I enabled him to make good his defalcation--in the city they consider a +defalcation made good when the money is replaced--and to go to New York. +I recommended him not to go there; but he knew better than I, for +he made a fortune by speculating with money that existed only in the +imagination of those with whom he dealt. He never repaid me; he is +probably far too good a man of business to pay money that cannot be +extracted from him by an appeal to the law or to his commercial credit. +Mr. Erskine," added Trefusis, lowering his voice, and turning to the +poet, "you are wrong to take part with hucksters and money-hunters +against your own nature, even though the attack upon them is led by a +man who prefers photography to etching." + +"But I assure you--You quite mistake me," said Erskine, taken aback. +"I--" + +He stopped, looked to Sir Charles for support, and then said airily: +"I don't doubt that you are quite right. I hate business and men of +business; and as to social questions, I have only one article of belief, +which is, that the sole refiner of human nature is fine art." + +"Whereas I believe that the sole refiner of art is human nature. Art +rises when men rise, and grovels when men grovel. What is your opinion?" + +"I agree with you in many ways," replied Sir Charles nervously; for a +lack of interest in his fellow-creatures, and an excess of interest in +himself, had prevented him from obtaining that power of dealing with +social questions which, he felt, a baronet ought to possess, and he +was consequently afraid to differ from anyone who alluded to them with +confidence. "If you take an interest in art, I believe I can show you a +few things worth seeing." + +"Thank you. In return I will some day show you a remarkable collection +of photographs I possess; many of them taken by me. I venture to think +they will teach you something." + +"No doubt," said Sir Charles. "Shall we return to the gallery? I have a +few treasures there that photography is not likely to surpass for some +time yet." + +"Let's go through the conservatory," said Jane. "Don't you like flowers, +Mr. Smi--I never can remember your proper name." + +"Extremely," said Trefusis. + +They rose and went out into a long hothouse. Here Lady Brandon, finding +Erskine at her side, and Sir Charles before her with Gertrude, +looked round for Trefusis, with whom she intended to enjoy a trifling +flirtation under cover of showing him the flowers. He was out of sight; +but she heard his footsteps in the passage on the opposite side of the +greenhouse. Agatha was also invisible. Jane, not daring to rearrange +their procession lest her design should become obvious, had to walk on +with Erskine. + +Agatha had turned unintentionally into the opposite alley to that which +the others had chosen. When she saw what she had done, and found herself +virtually alone with Trefusis, who had followed her, she blamed him for +it, and was about to retrace her steps when he said coolly: + +"Were you shocked when you heard of Henrietta's sudden death?" + +Agatha struggled with herself for a moment, and then said in a +suppressed voice: "How dare you speak to me?" + +"Why not?" said he, astonished. + +"I am not going to enter into a discussion with you. You know what I +mean very well." + +"You mean that you are offended with me; that is plain enough. But when +I part with a young lady on good terms, and after a lapse of years, +during which we neither meet nor correspond, she asks me how I dare +speak to her, I am naturally startled." + +"We did not part on good terms." + +Trefusis stretched his eyebrows, as if to stretch his memory. "If not," +he said, "I have forgotten it, on my honor. When did we part, and +what happened? It cannot have been anything very serious, or I should +remember it." + +His forgetfulness wounded Agatha. "No doubt you are well accustomed +to--" She checked herself, and made a successful snatch at her normal +manner with gentlemen. "I scarcely remember what it was, now that I +begin to think. Some trifle, I suppose. Do you like orchids?" + +"They have nothing to do with our affairs at present. You are not in +earnest about the orchids, and you are trying to run away from a mistake +instead of clearing it up. That is a short-sighted policy, always." + +Agatha grew alarmed, for she felt his old influence over her returning. +"I do not wish to speak of it," she said firmly. + +Her firmness was lost on him. "I do not even know what it means yet," he +said, "and I want to know, for I believe there is some misunderstanding +between us, and it is the trick of your sex to perpetuate +misunderstandings by forbidding all allusions to them. Perhaps, leaving +Lyvern so hastily, I forgot to fulfil some promise, or to say farewell, +or something of that sort. But do you know how suddenly I was called +away? I got a telegram to say that Henrietta was dying, and I had only +time to change my clothes--you remember my disguise--and catch the +express. And, after all, she was dead when I arrived." + +"I know that," said Agatha uneasily. "Please say no more about it." + +"Not if it distresses you. Just let me hope that you did not suppose I +blamed you for your share in the matter or that I told the Janseniuses +of it. I did not. Yes, I like orchids. A plant that can subsist on a +scrap of board is an instance of natural econ--" + +"YOU blame ME!" cried Agatha. "_I_ never told the Janseniuses. What +would they have thought of you if I had?" + +"Far worse of you than of me, however unjustly. You were the immediate +cause of the tragedy; I only the remote one. Jansenius is not far-seeing +when his feelings are touched. Few men are." + +"I don't understand you in the least. What tragedy do you mean?" + +"Henrietta's death. I call it a tragedy conventionally. Seriously, of +course, it was commonplace enough." + +Agatha stopped and faced him. "What do you mean by what you said just +now? You said that I was the immediate cause of the tragedy, and you say +that you were talking of Henrietta's--of Henrietta. I had nothing to do +with her illness." + +Trefusis looked at her as if considering whether he would go any +further. Then, watching her with the curiosity of a vivisector, he said: +"Strange to say, Agatha," (she shrank proudly at the word), "Henrietta +might have been alive now but for you. I am very glad she is not; so you +need not reproach yourself on my account. She died of a journey she +made to Lyvern in great excitement and distress, and in intensely cold +weather. You caused her to make that journey by writing her a letter +which made her jealous." + +"Do you mean to accuse me--" + +"No; stop!" he said hastily, the vivisecting spirit in him exorcised +by her shaking voice; "I accuse you of nothing. Why do you not speak +honestly to me when you are at your ease? If you confess your real +thoughts only under torture, who can resist the temptation to torture +you? One must charge you with homicide to make you speak of anything but +orchids." + +But Agatha had drawn the new inference from the old facts, and would not +be talked out of repudiating it. "It was not my fault," she said. "It +was yours--altogether yours." + +"Altogether," he assented, relieved to find her indignant instead of +remorseful. + +She was not to be soothed by a verbal acquiescence. "Your behavior +was most unmanly, and I told you so, and you could not deny it. You +pretended that you--You pretended to have feelings--You tried to make +me believe that Oh, I am a fool to talk to you; you know perfectly well +what I mean." + +"Perfectly. I tried to make you believe that I was in love with you. How +do you know I was not?" + +She disdained to answer; but as he waited calmly she said, "You had no +right to be." + +"That does not prove that I was not. Come, Agatha, you pretended to like +me when you did not care two straws about me. You confessed as much in +that fatal letter, which I have somewhere at home. It has a great rent +right across it, and the mark of her heel; she must have stamped on it +in her rage, poor girl! So that I can show your own hand for the very +deception you accused me--without proof--of having practiced on you." + +"You are clever, and can twist things. What pleasure does it give you to +make me miserable?" + +"Ha!" he exclaimed, in an abrupt, sardonic laugh. "I don't know; you +bewitch me, I think." + +Agatha made no reply, but walked on quickly to the end of the +conservatory, where the others were waiting for them. + +"Where have you been, and what have you been doing all this time?" said +Jane, as Trefusis came up, hurrying after Agatha. "I don't know what you +call it, but I call it perfectly disgraceful!" + +Sir Charles reddened at his wife's bad taste, and Trefusis replied +gravely: "We have been admiring the orchids, and talking about them. +Miss Wylie takes an interest in them." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +One morning Gertrude got a letter from her father: + +"My Dear Gerty: I have just received a bill for L110 from Madame Smith +for your dresses. May I ask you how long this sort of thing is to go +on? I need not tell you that I have not the means to support you in such +extravagance. I am, as you know, always anxious that you should go about +in a style worthy of your position, but unless you can manage without +calling on me to pay away hundreds of pounds every season to Madame +Smith, you had better give up society and stay at home. I positively +cannot afford it. As far as I can see, going into society has not done +you much good. I had to raise L500 last month on Franklands; and it is +too bad if I must raise more to pay your dressmaker. You might at least +employ some civil person, or one whose charges are moderate. Madame +Smith tells me that she will not wait any longer, and charges L50 for a +single dress. I hope you fully understand that there must be an end to +this. + +"I hear from your mother that young Erskine is with you at Brandon's. I +do not think much of him. He is not well off, nor likely to get on, as +he has taken to poetry and so forth. I am told also that a man named +Trefusis visits at the Beeches a good deal now. He must be a fool, for +he contested the last Birmingham election, and came out at the foot of +the poll with thirty-two votes through calling himself a Social Democrat +or some such foreign rubbish, instead of saying out like a man that he +was a Radical. I suppose the name stuck in his throat, for his mother +was one of the Howards of Breconcastle; so he has good blood in him, +though his father was nobody. I wish he had your bills to pay; he could +buy and sell me ten times over, after all my twenty-five years' service. + +"As I am thinking of getting something done to the house, I had rather +you did not come back this month, if you can possibly hold on at +Brandon's. Remember me to him, and give our kind regards to his wife. I +should be obliged if you would gather some hemlock leaves and send them +to me. I want them for my ointment; the stuff the chemists sell is no +good. Your mother's eyes are bad again; and your brother Berkeley has +been gambling, and seems to think I ought to pay his debts for him. I +am greatly worried over it all, and I hope that, until you have settled +yourself, you will be more reasonable, and not run these everlasting +bills upon me. You are enjoying yourself out of reach of all the +unpleasantness; but it bears hardly upon + +"Your affectionate father, + +"C.B. LINDSAY." + + +A faint sketch of the lines Time intended to engrave on Gertrude's brow +appeared there as she read the letter; but she hastened to give the +admiral's kind regards to her host and hostess, and discussed her +mother's health feelingly with them. After breakfast she went to the +library, and wrote her reply: + + +"BRANDON BEECHES, + +"Tuesday. + +"Dear Papa: Considering that it is more than three years since you +paid Madame Smith last, and that then her bill, which included my court +dress, was only L150, I cannot see how I could possibly have been more +economical, unless you expect me to go in rags. I am sorry that Madame +Smith has asked for the money at such an inconvenient time, but when I +begged you to pay her something in March last year you told me to keep +her quiet by giving her a good order. I am not surprised at her not +being very civil, as she has plenty of tradesmen's daughters among her +customers who pay her more than L300 a year for their dresses. I am +wearing a skirt at present which I got two years ago. + +"Sir Charles is going to town on Thursday; he will bring you the +hemlock. Tell mamma that there is an old woman here who knows some +wonderful cure for sore eyes. She will not tell what the ingredients +are, but it cures everyone, and there is no use in giving an oculist two +guineas for telling us that reading in bed is bad for the eyes, when +we know perfectly well that mamma will not give up doing it. If you pay +Berkeley's debts, do not forget that he owes me L3. + +"Another schoolfellow of mine is staying here now, and I think that Mr. +Trefusis will have the pleasure of paying her bills some day. He is a +great pet of Lady Brandon's. Sir Charles was angry at first because she +invited him here, and we were all surprised at it. The man has a bad +reputation, and headed a mob that threw down the walls of the park; and +we hardly thought he would be cool enough to come after that. But he +does not seem to care whether we want him or not; and he comes when he +likes. As he talks cleverly, we find him a godsend in this dull place. +It is really not such a paradise as you seem to think, but you need not +be afraid of my returning any sooner than I can help. + +"Your affectionate daughter, + +"Gertrude Lindsay." + + +When Gertrude had closed this letter, and torn up her father's, she +thought little more about either. They might have made her unhappy had +they found her happy, but as hopeless discontent was her normal state, +and enjoyment but a rare accident, recriminatory passages with +her father only put her into a bad humor, and did not in the least +disappoint or humiliate her. + +For the sake of exercise, she resolved to carry her letter to the +village post office and return along the Riverside Road, whereby she had +seen hemlock growing. She took care to go out unobserved, lest Agatha +should volunteer to walk with her, or Jane declare her intention of +driving to the post office in the afternoon, and sulk for the rest of +the day unless the trip to the village were postponed until then. She +took with her, as a protection against tramps, a big St. Bernard dog +named Max. This animal, which was young and enthusiastic, had taken a +strong fancy to her, and had expressed it frankly and boisterously; and +she, whose affections had been starved in her home and in society, had +encouraged him with more kindness than she had ever shown to any human +being. + +In the village, having posted her letter, she turned towards a lane that +led to the Riverside Road. Max, unaware of her reason for choosing the +longest way home, remonstrated by halting in the middle of the lane, +wagging his tail rapidly, and uttering gruff barks. + +"Don't be stupid, sir," said Gertrude impatiently. "I am going this +way." + +Max, apparently understanding, rushed after her, passed her, and +disappeared in a cloud of dust raised by his effort to check himself +when he had left her far enough behind. When he came back she kissed +his nose, and ran a race with him until she too was panting, and had +to stand still to recover her breath, whilst he bounded about, barking +ferociously. She had not for many years enjoyed such a frolic, and the +thought of this presently brought tears to her eyes. Rather peevishly +she bade Max be quiet, walked slowly to cool herself, and put up her +sunshade to avert freckles. + +The sun was now at the meridian. On a slope to Gertrude's right hand, +Sallust's House, with its cinnamon-colored walls and yellow frieze, gave +a foreign air to the otherwise very English landscape. She passed by +without remembering who lived there. Further down, on some waste land +separated from the road by a dry ditch and a low mud wall, a cluster of +hemlocks, nearly six feet high, poisoned the air with their odor. She +crossed the ditch, took a pair of gardening gloves from her plaited +straw hand-basket, and busied herself with the hemlock leaves, pulling +the tender ones, separating them from the stalk, and filling the basket +with the web. She forgot Max until an impression of dead silence, as +if the earth had stopped, caused her to look round in vague dread. +Trefusis, with his hand abandoned to the dog, who was trying how much of +it he could cram into his mouth, was standing within a few yards of her, +watching her intently. Gertrude turned pale, and came out hastily from +among the bushes. Then she had a strange sensation as if something +had happened high above her head. There was a threatening growl, a +commanding exclamation, and an unaccountable pause, at the expiration +of which she found herself supine on the sward, with her parasol between +her eyes and the sun. A sudden scoop of Max's wet warm tongue in her +right ear startled her into activity. She sat up, and saw Trefusis +on his knees at her side holding the parasol with an unconcerned +expression, whilst Max was snuffing at her in restless anxiety opposite. + +"I must go home," she said. "I must go home instantly." + +"Not at all," said Trefusis, soothingly. "They have just sent word to +say that everything is settled satisfactorily and that you need not +come." + +"Have they?" she said faintly. Then she lay down again, and it seemed to +her that a very long time elapsed. Suddenly recollecting that Trefusis +had supported her gently with his hand to prevent her falling back too +rudely, she rose again, and this time got upon her feet with his help. + +"I must go home," she said again. "It is a matter of life or death." + +"No, no," he said softly. "It is all right. You may depend on me." + +She looked at him earnestly. He had taken her hand to steady her, for +she was swaying a little. "Are you sure," she said, grasping his arm. +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Absolutely certain. You know I am always right, do you not?" + +"Yes, oh, yes; you have always been true to me. You--" Here her senses +came back with a rush. Dropping his hand as if it had become red hot, +she said sharply, "What are you talking about?" + +"I don't know," he said, resuming his indifferent manner with a laugh. +"Are you better? Let me drive you to the Beeches. My stable is within a +stone's throw; I can get a trap out in ten minutes." + +"No, thank you," said Gertrude haughtily. "I do not wish to drive." She +paused, and added in some bewilderment, "What has happened?" + +"You fainted, and--" + +"I did not faint," said Gertrude indignantly. "I never fainted in my +life." + +"Yes, you did." + +"Pardon me, Mr. Trefusis. I did not." + +"You shall judge for yourself. I was coming through this field when +I saw you gathering hemlock. Hemlock is interesting on account of +Socrates, and you were interesting as a young lady gathering poison. So +I stopped to look on. Presently you came out from among the bushes as if +you had seen a snake there. Then you fell into my arms--which led me +to suppose that you had fainted--and Max, concluding that it was all my +fault, nearly sprang at my throat. You were overpowered by the scent of +the water-hemlock, which you must have been inhaling for ten minutes or +more." + +"I did not know that there was any danger," said Gertrude, crestfallen. +"I felt very tired when I came to. That was why I lay so long the second +time. I really could not help it." + +"You did not lie very long." + +"Not when I first fell; that was only a few seconds, I know. But I must +have lain there nearly ten minutes after I recovered." + +"You were nearly a minute insensible when you first fell, and when you +recovered you only rested for about one second. After that you raved, +and I invented suitable answers until you suddenly asked me what I was +talking about." + +Gertrude reddened a little as the possibility of her having raved +indiscreetly occurred to her. "It was very silly of me to faint," she +said. + +"You could not help it; you are only human. I shall walk with you to the +Beeches." + +"Thank you; I will not trouble you," she said quickly. + +He shook his head. "I do not know how long the effect of that abominable +water-weed may last," he said, "and I dare not leave you to walk alone. +If you prefer it I can send you in a trap with my gardener, but I had +rather accompany you myself." + +"You are giving yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble. I will +walk. I am quite well again and need no assistance." + +They started without another word. Gertrude had to concentrate all her +energy to conceal from him that she was giddy. Numbness and lassitude +crept upon her, and she was beginning to hope that she was only dreaming +it all when he roused her by saying, + +"Take my arm." + +"No, thank you." + +"Do not be so senselessly obstinate. You will have to lean on the +hedge for support if you refuse my help. I am sorry I did not insist on +getting the trap." + +Gertrude had not been spoken to in this tone since her childhood. "I am +perfectly well," she said sharply. "You are really very officious." + +"You are not perfectly well, and you know it. However, if you make +a brave struggle, you will probably be able to walk home without my +assistance, and the effort may do you good." + +"You are very rude," she said peremptorily. + +"I know it," he replied calmly. "You will find three classes of men +polite to you--slaves, men who think much of their manners and nothing +of you, and your lovers. I am none of these, and therefore give you back +your ill manners with interest. Why do you resist your good angel by +suppressing those natural and sincere impulses which come to you often +enough, and sometimes bring a look into your face that might tame a +bear--a look which you hasten to extinguish as a thief darkens his +lantern at the sound of a footstep." + +"Mr. Trefusis, I am not accustomed to be lectured." + +"That is why I lecture you. I felt curious to see how your good +breeding, by which I think you set some store, would serve you in +entirely novel circumstances--those of a man speaking his mind to you, +for instance. What is the result of my experiment? Instead of rebuking +me with the sweetness and dignity which I could not, in spite of my past +observation, help expecting from you, you churlishly repel my offer of +the assistance you need, tell me that I am very rude, very officious, +and, in short, do what you can to make my position disagreeable and +humiliating." + +She looked at him haughtily, but his expression was void of offence or +fear, and he continued, unanswered. + +"I would bear all this from a working woman without remonstrance, for +she would owe me no graces of manner or morals. But you are a lady. +That means that many have starved and drudged in uncleanly discomfort +in order that you may have white and unbroken hands, fine garments, and +exquisite manners--that you may be a living fountain of those influences +that soften our natures and lives. When such a costly thing as a lady +breaks down at the first touch of a firm hand, I feel justified in +complaining." + +Gertrude walked on quickly, and said between her teeth, "I don't want to +hear any of your absurd views, Mr. Trefusis." + +He laughed. "My unfortunate views!" he said. "Whenever I make an +inconvenient remark it is always set aside as an expression of certain +dangerous crazes with which I am supposed to be afflicted. When I point +out to Sir Charles that one of his favorite artists has not accurately +observed something before attempting to draw it, he replies, 'You know +our views differ on these things, Trefusis.' When I told Miss Wylie's +guardian that his emigration scheme was little better than a fraud, he +said, 'You must excuse me, but I cannot enter into your peculiar views.' +One of my views at present is that Miss Lindsay is more amiable under +the influence of hemlock than under that of the social system which has +made her so unhappy." + +"Well!" exclaimed Gertrude, outraged. Then, after a pause, "I was under +the impression that I had accepted the escort of a gentleman." Then, +after another pause, Trefusis being quite undisturbed, "How do you know +that I am unhappy?" + +"By a certain defect in your countenance, which lacks the crowning +beauty of happiness; and a certain defect in your voice which will never +disappear until you learn to love or pity those to whom you speak." + +"You are wrong," said Gertrude, with calm disdain. "You do not +understand me in the least. I am particularly attached to my friends." + +"Then I have never seen you in their company." + +"You are still wrong." + +"Then how can you speak as you do, look as you do, act as you do?" + +"What do you mean? HOW do I look and act?" + +"Like one of the railings of Belgrave Square, cursed with consciousness +of itself, fears of the judgment of the other railings, and doubts +of their fitness to stand in the same row with it. You are cold, +mistrustful, cruel to nervous or clumsy people, and more afraid of +the criticisms of those with whom you dance and dine than of your +conscience. All of which prevents you from looking like an angel." + +"Thank you. Do you consider paying compliments the perfection of +gentlemanly behavior?" + +"Have I been paying you many? That last remark of mine was not meant +as one. On my honor, the angels will not disappoint me if they are no +lovelier than you should be if you had that look in your face and that +tone in your voice I spoke of just now. It can hardly displease you to +hear that. If I were particularly handsome myself, I should like to be +told so." + +"I am sorry I cannot tell you so." + +"Oh! Ha! ha! What a retort, Miss Lindsay! You are not sorry either; you +are rather glad." + +Gertrude knew it, and was angry with herself, not because her retort +was false, but because she thought it unladylike. "You have no right to +annoy me," she exclaimed, in spite of herself. + +"None whatever," he said, humbly. "If I have done so, forgive me before +we part. I will go no further with you; Max will give the alarm if you +faint in the avenue, which I don't think you are likely to do, as you +have forgotten all about the hemlock." + +"Oh, how maddening!" she cried. "I have left my basket behind." + +"Never mind; I will find it and have it filled and sent to you." + +"Thank you. I am sorry to trouble you." + +"Not at all. I hope you do not want the hemlock to help you to get rid +of the burden of life." + +"Nonsense. I want it for my father, who uses it for medicine." + +"I will bring it myself to-morrow. Is that soon enough?" + +"Quite. I am in no hurry. Thank you, Mr. Trefusis. Good-bye." + +She gave him her hand, and even smiled a little, and then hurried away. +He stood watching her as she passed along the avenue under the beeches. +Once, when she came into a band of sunlight at a gap in the trees, she +made so pretty a figure in her spring dress of violet and white that +his eyes kindled as he gazed. He took out his note-book, and entered her +name and the date, with a brief memorandum. + +"I have thawed her," he said to himself as he put up his book. "She +shall learn a lesson or two to hand on to her children before I have +done with her. A trifle underbred, too, or she would not insist so much +on her breeding. Henrietta used to wear a dress like that. I am glad to +see that there is no danger of her taking to me personally." + +He turned away, and saw a crone passing, bending beneath a bundle of +sticks. He eyed it curiously; and she scowled at him and hurried on. + +"Hallo," he said. + +She continued for a few steps, but her courage failed her and she +stopped. + +"You are Mrs. Hickling, I think?" + +"Yes, please your worship." + +"You are the woman who carried away an old wooden gate that lay on Sir +Charles Brandon's land last winter and used it for firewood. You were +imprisoned for seven days for it." + +"You may send me there again if you like," she retorted, in a cracked +voice, as she turned at bay. "But the Lord will make me even with you +some day. Cursed be them that oppress the poor and needy; it is one of +the seven deadly sins." + +"Those green laths on your back are the remainder of my garden gate," +he said. "You took the first half last Saturday. Next time you want fuel +come to the house and ask for coals, and let my gates alone. I suppose +you can enjoy a fire without stealing the combustibles. Stow pay me for +my gate by telling me something I want to know." + +"And a kind gentleman too, sir; blessings." + +"What is the hemlock good for?" + +"The hemlock, kind gentleman? For the evil, sir, to be sure." + +"Scrofulous ulcers!" he exclaimed, recoiling. "The father of that +beautiful girl!" He turned homeward, and trudged along with his +head bent, muttering, "All rotten to the bone. Oh, civilization! +civilization! civilization!" + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"What has come over Gertrude?" said Agatha one day to Lady Brandon. + +"Why? Is anything the matter with her?" + +"I don't know; she has not been the same since she poisoned herself. +And why did she not tell about it? But for Trefusis we should never have +known." + +"Gertrude always made secrets of things." + +"She was in a vile temper for two days after; and now she is quite +changed. She falls into long reveries, and does not hear a word of +what is going on around. Then she starts into life again, and begs your +pardon with the greatest sweetness for not catching what you have said." + +"I hate her when she is polite; it is not natural to her. As to her +going to sleep, that is the effect of the hemlock. We know a man who +took a spoonful of strychnine in a bath, and he never was the same +afterwards." + +"I think she is making up her mind to encourage Erskine," said Agatha. +"When I came here he hardly dared speak to her--at least, she always +snubbed him. Now she lets him talk as much as he likes, and actually +sends him on messages and allows him to carry things for her." + +"Yes. I never saw anybody like Gertrude in my life. In London, if men +were attentive to her, she sat on them for being officious; and if they +let her alone she was angry at being neglected. Erskine is quite good +enough for her, I think." + +Here Erskine appeared at the door and looked round the room. + +"She's not here," said Jane. + +"I am seeking Sir Charles," he said, withdrawing somewhat stiffly. + +"What a lie!" said Jane, discomfited by his reception of her jest. "He +was talking to Sir Charles ten minutes ago in the billiard room. Men are +such conceited fools!" + +Agatha had strolled to the window, and was looking discontentedly at the +prospect, as she had often done at school when alone, and sometimes did +now in society. The door opened again, and Sir Charles appeared. He, +too, looked round, but when his roving glance reached Agatha, it cast +anchor; and he came in. + +"Are you busy just now, Miss Wylie?" he asked. + +"Yes," said Jane hastily. "She is going to write a letter for me." + +"Really, Jane," he said, "I think you are old enough to write your +letters without troubling Miss Wylie." + +"When I do write my own letters you always find fault with them," she +retorted. + +"I thought perhaps you might have leisure to try over a duet with me," +he said, turning to Agatha. + +"Certainly," she replied, hoping to smooth matters by humoring him. "The +letter will do any time before post hour." + +Jane reddened, and said shortly, "I will write it myself, if you will +not." + +Sir Charles quite lost his temper. "How can you be so damnably rude?" +he said, turning upon his wife. "What objection have you to my singing +duets with Miss Wylie?" + +"Nice language that!" said Jane. "I never said I objected; and you have +no right to drag her away to the piano just when she is going to write a +letter for me." + +"I do not wish Miss Wylie to do anything except what pleases her best. +It seems to me that writing letters to your tradespeople cannot be a +very pleasant occupation." + +"Pray don't mind me," said Agatha. "It is not the least trouble to me. I +used to write all Jane's letters for her at school. Suppose I write the +letter first, and then we can have the duet. You will not mind waiting +five minutes?" + +"I can wait as long as you please, of course. But it seems such an +absurd abuse of your good nature that I cannot help protest!" + +"Oh, let it wait!" exclaimed Jane. "Such a ridiculous fuss to make about +asking Agatha to write a letter, just because you happen to want her +to play you your duets! I am certain she is heartily sick and tired of +them." + +Agatha, to escape the altercation, went to the library and wrote the +letter. When she returned to the drawing-room, she found no one there; +but Sir Charles came in presently. + +"I am so sorry, Miss Wylie," he said, as he opened the piano for her, +"that you should be incommoded because my wife is silly enough to be +jealous." + +"Jealous!" + +"Of course. Idiocy!" + +"Oh, you are mistaken," said Agatha, incredulously. "How could she +possibly be jealous of me?" + +"She is jealous of everybody and everything," he replied bitterly, "and +she cares for nobody and for nothing. You do not know what I have to +endure sometimes from her." + +Agatha thought her most discreet course was to sit down immediately and +begin "I would that my love." Whilst she played and sang, she thought +over what Sir Charles had just let slip. She had found him a pleasant +companion, light-hearted, fond of music and fun, polite and considerate, +appreciative of her talents, quick-witted without being oppressively +clever, and, as a married man, disinterested in his attentions. But it +now occurred to her that perhaps they had been a good deal together of +late. + +Sir Charles had by this time wandered from his part into hers; and he +now recalled her to the music by stopping to ask whether he was right. +Knowing by experience what his difficulty was likely to be, she gave him +his note and went on. They had not been singing long when Jane came +back and sat down, expressing a hope that her presence would not disturb +them. It did disturb them. Agatha suspected that she had come there to +watch them, and Sir Charles knew it. Besides, Lady Brandon, even when +her mind was tranquil, was habitually restless. She could not speak +because of the music, and, though she held an open book in her hand, she +could not read and watch simultaneously. She gaped, and leaned to one +end of the sofa until, on the point of overbalancing' she recovered +herself with a prodigious bounce. The floor vibrated at her every +movement. At last she could keep silence no longer. + +"Oh, dear!" she said, yawning audibly. "It must be five o'clock at the +very earliest." + +Agatha turned round upon the piano-stool, feeling that music and Lady +Brandon were incompatible. Sir Charles, for his guest's sake, tried hard +to restrain his exasperation. + +"Probably your watch will tell you," he said. + +"Thank you for nothing," said Jane. "Agatha, where is Gertrude?" + +"How can Miss Wylie possibly tell you where she is, Jane? I think you +have gone mad to-day." + +"She is most likely playing billiards with Mr. Erskine," said Agatha, +interposing quickly to forestall a retort from Jane, with its usual +sequel of a domestic squabble. + +"I think it is very strange of Gertrude to pass the whole day with +Chester in the billiard room," said Jane discontentedly. + +"There is not the slightest impropriety in her doing so," said +Sir Charles. "If our hospitality does not place Miss Lindsay above +suspicion, the more shame for us. How would you feel if anyone else made +such a remark?" + +"Oh, stuff!" said Jane peevishly. "You are always preaching long +rigmaroles about nothing at all. I did not say there was any impropriety +about Gertrude. She is too proper to be pleasant, in my opinion." + +Sir Charles, unable to trust himself further, frowned and left the room, +Jane speeding him with a contemptuous laugh. + +"Don't ever be such a fool as to get married," she said, when he was +gone. She looked up as she spoke, and was alarmed to see Agatha seated +on the pianoforte, with her ankles swinging in the old school fashion. + +"Jane," she said, surveying her hostess coolly, "do you know what I +would do if I were Sir Charles?" + +Jane did not know. + +"I would get a big stick, beat you black and blue, and then lock you up +on bread and water for a week." + +Jane half rose, red and angry. "Wh--why?" she said, relapsing upon the +sofa. + +"If I were a man, I would not, for mere chivalry's sake, let a woman +treat me like a troublesome dog. You want a sound thrashing." + +"I'd like to see anybody thrash me," said Jane, rising again and +displaying her formidable person erect. Then she burst into tears, and +said, "I won't have such things said to me in my own house. How dare +you?" + +"You deserve it for being jealous of me," said Agatha. + +Jane's eyes dilated angrily. "I!--I!--jealous of you!" She looked round, +as if for a missile. Not finding one, she sat down again, and said in a +voice stifled with tears, "J--Jealous of YOU, indeed!" + +"You have good reason to be, for he is fonder of me than of you." + +Jane opened her mouth and eyes convulsively, but only uttered a gasp, +and Agatha proceeded calmly, "I am polite to him, which you never +are. When he speaks to me I allow him to finish his sentence without +expressing, as you do, a foregone conclusion that it is not worth +attending to. I do not yawn and talk whilst he is singing. When he +converses with me on art or literature, about which he knows twice as +much as I do, and at least ten times as much as you." (Jane gasped again) +"I do not make a silly answer and turn to my neighbor at the other side +with a remark about the tables or the weather. When he is willing to be +pleased, as he always is, I am willing to be pleasant. And that is why +he likes me." + +"He does NOT like you. He is the same to everyone." + +"Except his wife. He likes me so much that you, like a great goose as +you are, came up here to watch us at our duets, and made yourself as +disagreeable as you possibly could whilst I was making myself charming. +The poor man was ashamed of you." + +"He wasn't," said Jane, sobbing. "I didn't do anything. I didn't say +anything. I won't bear it. I will get a divorce. I will--" + +"You will mend your ways if you have any sense left," said Agatha +remorselessly. "Do not make such a noise, or someone will come to see +what is the matter, and I shall have to get down from the piano, where I +am very comfortable." + +"It is you who are jealous." + +"Oh, is it, Jane? I have not allowed Sir Charles to fall in love with me +yet, but I can do so very easily. What will you wager that he will not +kiss me before to-morrow evening?" + +"It will be very mean and nasty of you if he does. You seem to think +that I can be treated like a child." + +"So you are a child," said Agatha, descending from her perch and +preparing to go. "An occasional slapping does you good." + +"It is nothing to you whether I agree with my husband or not," said Jane +with sudden fierceness. + +"Not if you quarrel with him in private, as wellbred couples do. But +when it occurs in my presence it makes me uncomfortable, and I object to +being made uncomfortable." + +"You would not be here at all if I had not asked you." + +"Just think how dull the house would be without me, Jane!" + +"Indeed! It was not dull before you came. Gertrude always behaved like a +lady, at least." + +"I am sorry that her example was so utterly lost on you." + +"I won't bear it," said Jane with a sob and a plunge upon the sofa that +made the lustres of the chandeliers rattle. "I wouldn't have asked you +if I had thought you could be so hateful. I will never ask you again." + +"I will make Sir Charles divorce you for incompatibility of temper and +marry me. Then I shall have the place to myself." + +"He can't divorce me for that, thank goodness. You don't know what +you're talking about." + +Agatha laughed. "Come," she said good-humoredly, "don't be an old ass, +Jane. Wash your face before anyone sees it, and remember what I have +told you about Sir Charles." + +"It is very hard to be called an ass in one's own house." + +"It is harder to be treated as one, like your husband. I am going to +look for him in the billiard room." + +Jane ran after her, and caught her by the sleeve. + +"Agatha," she pleaded, "promise me that you won't be mean. Say that you +won't make love to him." + +"I will consider about it," replied Agatha gravely. + +Jane uttered a groan and sank into a chair, which creaked at the +shock. Agatha turned on the threshold, and seeing her shaking her head, +pressing her eyes, and tapping with her heel in a restrained frenzy, +said quickly, + +"Here are the Waltons, and the Fitzgeorges, and Mr. Trefusis coming +upstairs. How do you do, Mrs. Walton? Lady Brandon will be SO glad to +see you. Good-evening, Mr. Fitzgeorge." + +Jane sprang up, wiped her eyes, and, with her hands on her hair, +smoothing it, rushed to a mirror. No visitors appearing, she perceived +that she was, for perhaps the hundredth time in her life, the victim +of an imposture devised by Agatha. She, gratified by the success of her +attempt to regain her old ascendancy over Jane--she had made it with +misgiving, notwithstanding her apparent confidence--went downstairs to +the library, where she found Sir Charles gloomily trying to drown his +domestic troubles in art criticism. + +"I thought you were in the billiard room," said Agatha. + +"I only peeped in," he replied; "but as I saw something particular going +on, I thought it best to slip away, and I have been alone ever since." + +The something particular which Sir Charles had not wished to interrupt +was only a game of billiards. + +It was the first opportunity Erskine had ever enjoyed of speaking to +Gertrude at leisure and alone. Yet their conversation had never been +so commonplace. She, liking the game, played very well and chatted +indifferently; he played badly, and broached trivial topics in spite of +himself. After an hour-and-a-half's play, Gertrude had announced that +this game must be their last. He thought desperately that if he were to +miss many more strokes the game must presently end, and an opportunity +which might never recur pass beyond recall. He determined to tell +her without preface that he adored her, but when he opened his lips a +question came forth of its own accord relating to the Persian way of +playing billiards. Gertrude had never been in Persia, but had seen +some Eastern billiard cues in the India museum. Were not the Hindoos +wonderful people for filigree work, and carpets, and such things? Did +he not think the crookedness of their carpet patterns a blemish? Some +people pretended to admire them, but was not that all nonsense? Was not +the modern polished floor, with a rug in the middle, much superior to +the old carpet fitted into the corners of the room? Yes. Enormously +superior. Immensely-- + +"Why, what are you thinking of to-day, Mr. Erskine? You have played with +my ball." + +"I am thinking of you." + +"What did you say?" said Gertrude, not catching the serious turn he had +given to the conversation, and poising her cue for a stroke. "Oh! I am +as bad as you; that was the worst stroke I ever made, I think. I beg +your pardon; you said something just now." + +"I forget. Nothing of any consequence." And he groaned at his own +cowardice. + +"Suppose we stop," she said. "There is no use in finishing the game if +our hands are out. I am rather tired of it." + +"Certainly--if you wish it." + +"I will finish if you like." + +"Not at all. What pleases you, pleases me." + +Gertrude made him a little bow, and idly knocked the balls about with +her cue. Erskine's eyes wandered, and his lip moved irresolutely. He had +settled with himself that his declaration should be a frank one--heart +to heart. He had pictured himself in the act of taking her hand +delicately, and saying, "Gertrude, I love you. May I tell you so again?" +But this scheme did not now seem practicable. + +"Miss Lindsay." + +Gertrude, bending over the table, looked up in alarm. + +"The present is as good an opportunity as I will--as I shall--as I +will." + +"Shall," said Gertrude. + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"SHALL," repeated Gertrude. "Did you ever study the doctrine of +necessity?" + +"The doctrine of necessity?" he said, bewildered. + +Gertrude went to the other side of the table in pursuit of a ball. She +now guessed what was coming, and was willing that it should come; not +because she intended to accept, but because, like other young ladies +experienced in such scenes, she counted the proposals of marriage she +received as a Red Indian counts the scalps he takes. + +"We have had a very pleasant time of it here," he said, giving up as +inexplicable the relevance of the doctrine of necessity. "At least, I +have." + +"Well," said Gertrude, quick to resent a fancied allusion to her private +discontent, "so have I." + +"I am glad of that--more so than I can convey by words." + +"Is it any business of yours?" she said, following the disagreeable vein +he had unconsciously struck upon, and suspecting pity in his efforts to +be sympathetic. + +"I wish I dared hope so. The happiness of my visit has been due to you +entirely." + +"Indeed," said Gertrude, wincing as all the hard things Trefusis +had told her of herself came into her mind at the heels of Erskine's +unfortunate allusion to her power of enjoying herself. + +"I hope I am not paining you," he said earnestly. + +"I don't know what you are talking about," she said, standing erect with +sudden impatience. "You seem to think that it is very easy to pain me." + +"No," he said timidly, puzzled by the effect he had produced. "I fear +you misunderstand me. I am very awkward. Perhaps I had better say no +more." Gertrude, by turning away to put up her cue, signified that that +was a point for him to consider; she not intending to trouble herself +about it. When she faced him again, he was motionless and dejected, with +a wistful expression like that of a dog that has proffered a caress and +received a kick. Remorse, and a vague sense that there was something +base in her attitude towards him, overcame her. She looked at him for an +instant and left the room. + +The look excited him. He did not understand it, nor attempt to +understand it; but it was a look that he had never before seen in +her face or in that of any other woman. It struck him as a momentary +revelation of what he had written of in "The Patriot Martyrs" as + +"The glorious mystery of a woman's heart," + +and it made him feel unfit for ordinary social intercourse. He hastened +from the house, walked swiftly down the avenue to the lodge, where he +kept his bicycle, left word there that he was going for an excursion and +should probably not return in time for dinner, mounted, and sped away +recklessly along the Riverside Road. In less than two minutes he passed +the gate of Sallust's House, where he nearly ran over an old woman laden +with a basket of coals, who put down her burthen to scream curses after +him. Warned by this that his headlong pace was dangerous, he slackened +it a little, and presently saw Trefusis lying prone on the river bank, +with his cheeks propped on his elbows, reading intently. Erskine, +who had presented him, a few days before, with a copy of "The Patriot +Martyrs and other Poems," tried to catch a glimpse of the book over +which Trefusis was so serious. It was a Blue Book, full of figures. +Erskine rode on in disgust, consoling himself with the recollection of +Gertrude's face. + +The highway now swerved inland from the river, and rose to a steep +acclivity, at the brow of which he turned and looked back. The light +was growing ruddy, and the shadows were lengthening. Trefusis was still +prostrate in the meadow, and the old woman was in a field, gathering +hemlock. + +Erskine raced down the hill at full speed, and did not look behind him +again until he found himself at nightfall on the skirts of a town, +where he purchased some beer and a sandwich, which he ate with little +appetite. Gertrude had set up a disturbance within him which made him +impatient of eating. + +It was now dark. He was many miles from Brandon Beeches, and not sure +of the way back. Suddenly he resolved to complete his unfinished +declaration that evening. He now could not ride back fast enough to +satisfy his impatience. He tried a short cut, lost himself, spent nearly +an hour seeking the highroad, and at last came upon a railway station +just in time to catch a train that brought him within a mile of his +destination. + +When he rose from the cushions of the railway carriage he found +himself somewhat fatigued, and he mounted the bicycle stiffly. But his +resolution was as ardent as ever, and his heart beat strongly as, after +leaving his bicycle at the lodge, he walked up the avenue through the +deep gloom beneath the beeches. Near the house, the first notes of +"Grudel perche finora" reached him, and he stepped softly on to the turf +lest his footsteps on the gravel should rouse the dogs and make them +mar the harmony by barking. A rustle made him stop and listen. Then +Gertrude's voice whispered through the darkness: + +"What did you mean by what you said to me within?" + +An extraordinary sensation shook Erskine; confused ideas of fairyland +ran through his imagination. A bitter disappointment, like that of +waking from a happy dream, followed as Trefusis's voice, more finely +tuned than he had ever heard it before, answered, + +"Merely that the expanse of stars above us is not more illimitable than +my contempt for Miss Lindsay, nor brighter than my hopes of Gertrude." + +"Miss Lindsay always to you, if you please, Mr. Trefusis." + +"Miss Lindsay never to me, but only to those who cannot see through +her to the soul within, which is Gertrude. There are a thousand Miss +Lindsays in the world, formal and false. There is but one Gertrude." + +"I am an unprotected girl, Mr. Trefusis, and you can call me what you +please." + +It occurred to Erskine that this was a fit occasion to rush forward and +give Trefusis, whose figure he could now dimly discern, a black eye. But +he hesitated, and the opportunity passed. + +"Unprotected!" said Trefusis. "Why, you are fenced round and barred in +with conventions, laws, and lies that would frighten the truth from the +lips of any man whose faith in Gertrude was less strong than mine. Go +to Sir Charles and tell him what I have said to Miss Lindsay, and within +ten minutes I shall have passed these gates with a warning never to +approach them again. I am in your power, and were I in Miss Lindsay's +power alone, my shrift would be short. Happily, Gertrude, though she +sees as yet but darkly, feels that Miss Lindsay is her bitterest foe." + +"It is ridiculous. I am not two persons; I am only one. What does it +matter to me if your contempt for me is as illimitable as the stars?" + +"Ah, you remember that, do you? Whenever you hear a man talking about +the stars you may conclude that he is either an astronomer or a fool. +But you and a fine starry night would make a fool of any man." + +"I don't understand you. I try to, but I cannot; or, if I guess, I +cannot tell whether you are in earnest or not." + +"I am very much in earnest. Abandon at once and for ever all misgivings +that I am trifling with you, or passing an idle hour as men do when they +find themselves in the company of beautiful women. I mean what I say +literally, and in the deepest sense. You doubt me; we have brought +society to such a state that we all suspect one another. But whatever is +true will command belief sooner or later from those who have wit enough +to comprehend truth. Now let me recall Miss Lindsay to consciousness by +remarking that we have been out for ten minutes, and that our hostess is +not the woman to allow our absence to pass without comment." + +"Let us go in. Thank you for reminding me." + +"Thank you for forgetting." + +Erskine heard their footsteps retreating, and presently saw the two +enter the glow of light that shone from the open window of the billiard +room, through which they went indoors. Trefusis, a man whom he had seen +that day in a beautiful landscape, blind to everything except a row of +figures in a Blue Book, was his successful rival, although it was +plain from the very sound of his voice that he did not--could not--love +Gertrude. Only a poet could do that. Trefusis was no poet, but a sordid +brute unlikely to inspire interest in anything more human than a public +meeting, much less in a woman, much less again in a woman so ethereal +as Gertrude. She was proud too, yet she had allowed the fellow to insult +her--had forgiven him for the sake of a few broad compliments. Erskine +grew angry and cynical. The situation did not suit his poetry. Instead +of being stricken to the heart with a solemn sorrow, as a Patriot +Martyr would have been under similar circumstances, he felt slighted and +ridiculous. He was hardly convinced of what had seemed at first the most +obvious feature of the case, Trefusis's inferiority to himself. + +He stood under the trees until Trefusis reappeared on his way home, +making, Erskine thought, as much noise with his heels on the gravel as a +regiment of delicately bred men would have done. He stopped for a moment +to make inquiry at the lodge as he went out; then his footsteps died +away in the distance. + +Erskine, chilled, stiff, and with a sensation of a bad cold coming on, +went into the house, and was relieved to find that Gertrude had retired, +and that Lady Brandon, though she had been sure that he had ridden into +the river in the dark, had nevertheless provided a warm supper for him. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Erskine soon found plenty of themes for his newly begotten cynicism. +Gertrude's manner towards him softened so much that he, believing her +heart given to his rival, concluded that she was tempting him to make a +proposal which she had no intention of accepting. Sir Charles, to whom +he told what he had overheard in the avenue, professed sympathy, but +was evidently pleased to learn that there was nothing serious in the +attentions Trefusis paid to Agatha. Erskine wrote three bitter sonnets +on hollow friendship and showed them to Sir Charles, who, failing to +apply them to himself, praised them highly and showed them to Trefusis +without asking the author's permission. Trefusis remarked that in a +corrupt society expressions of dissatisfaction were always creditable to +a writer's sensibility; but he did not say much in praise of the verse. + +"Why has he taken to writing in this vein?" he said. "Has he been +disappointed in any way of late? Has he proposed to Miss Lindsay and +been rejected?" + +"No," said Sir Charles surprised by this blunt reference to a subject +they had never before discussed. "He does not intend to propose to Miss +Lindsay." + +"But he did intend to." + +"He certainly did, but he has given up the idea." + +"Why?" said Trefusis, apparently disapproving strongly of the +renunciation. + +Sir Charles shrugged his shoulders and did not reply. + +"I am sorry to hear it. I wish you could induce him to change his mind. +He is a nice fellow, with enough to live on comfortably, whilst he +is yet what is called a poor man, so that she could feel perfectly +disinterested in marrying him. It will do her good to marry without +making a pecuniary profit by it; she will respect herself the more +afterwards, and will neither want bread and butter nor be ashamed of +her husband's origin, in spite of having married for love alone. Make +a match of it if you can. I take an interest in the girl; she has good +instincts." + +Sir Charles's suspicion that Trefusis was really paying court to Agatha +returned after this conversation, which he repeated to Erskine, who, +much annoyed because his poems had been shown to a reader of Blue Books, +thought it only a blind for Trefusis's design upon Gertrude. Sir Charles +pooh-poohed this view, and the two friends were sharp with one another +in discussing it. After dinner, when the ladies had left them, Sir +Charles, repentant and cordial, urged Erskine to speak to Gertrude +without troubling himself as to the sincerity of Trefusis. But Erskine, +knowing himself ill able to brook a refusal, was loth to expose himself. + +"If you had heard the tone of her voice when she asked him whether +he was in earnest, you would not talk to me like this," he said +despondently. "I wish he had never come here." + +"Well, that, at least, was no fault of mine, my dear fellow," said Sir +Charles. "He came among us against my will. And now that he appears to +have been in the right--legally--about the field, it would look like +spite if I cut him. Besides, he really isn't a bad man if he would only +let the women alone." + +"If he trifles with Miss Lindsay, I shall ask him to cross the Channel, +and have a shot at him." + +"I don't think he'd go," said Sir Charles dubiously. "If I were you, I +would try my luck with Gertrude at once. In spite of what you heard, I +don't believe she would marry a man of his origin. His money gives +him an advantage, certainly, but Gertrude has sent richer men to the +rightabout." + +"Let the fellow have fair play," said Erskine. "I may be wrong, of +course; all men are liable to err in judging themselves, but I think I +could make her happier than he can." + +Sir Charles was not so sure of that, but he cheerfully responded, +"Certainly. He is not the man for her at all, and you are. He knows it, +too." + +"Hmf!" muttered Erskine, rising dejectedly. "Let's go upstairs." + +"By-the-bye, we are to call on him to-morrow, to go through his house, +and his collection of photographs. Photographs! Ha, ha! Damn his house!" +said Erskine. + +Next day they went together to Sallust's House. It stood in the midst of +an acre of land, waste except a little kitchen garden at the rear. The +lodge at the entrance was uninhabited, and the gates stood open, with +dust and fallen leaves heaped up against them. Free ingress had thus +been afforded to two stray ponies, a goat, and a tramp, who lay asleep +in the grass. His wife sat near, watching him. + +"I have a mind to turn back," said Sir Charles, looking about him in +disgust. "The place is scandalously neglected. Look at that rascal +asleep within full view of the windows." + +"I admire his cheek," said Erskine. "Nice pair of ponies, too." + +Sallust's House was square and painted cinnamon color. Beneath the +cornice was a yellow frieze with figures of dancing children, imitated +from the works of Donatello, and very unskilfully executed. There was +a meagre portico of four columns, painted red, and a plain pediment, +painted yellow. The colors, meant to match those of the walls, +contrasted disagreeably with them, having been applied more recently, +apparently by a color-blind artist. The door beneath the portico stood +open. Sir Charles rang the bell, and an elderly woman answered it; but +before they could address her, Trefusis appeared, clad in a painter's +jacket of white jean. Following him in, they found that the house was a +hollow square, enclosing a courtyard with a bath sunk in the middle, and +a fountain in the centre of the bath. The courtyard, formerly open to +the sky, was now roofed in with dusty glass; the nymph that had once +poured out the water of the fountain was barren and mutilated; and +the bath was partly covered in with loose boards, the exposed part +accommodating a heap of coals in one corner, a heap of potatoes in +another, a beer barrel, some old carpets, a tarpaulin, and a broken +canoe. The marble pavement extended to the outer walls of the house, and +was roofed in at the sides by the upper stories which were supported by +fluted stone columns, much stained and chipped. The staircase, towards +which Trefusis led his visitors, was a broad one at the end opposite the +door, and gave access to a gallery leading to the upper rooms. + +"This house was built in 1780 by an ancestor of my mother," said +Trefusis. "He passed for a man of exquisite taste. He wished the place +to be maintained forever--he actually used that expression in his +will--as the family seat, and he collected a fine library here, which +I found useful, as all the books came into my hands in good condition, +most of them with the leaves uncut. Some people prize uncut copies of +old editions; a dealer gave me three hundred and fifty pounds for a +lot of them. I came into possession of a number of family +fetishes--heirlooms, as they are called. There was a sword that one of +my forbears wore at Edgehill and other battles in Charles the First's +time. We fought on the wrong side, of course, but the sword fetched +thirty-five shillings nevertheless. You will hardly believe that I +was offered one hundred and fifty pounds for a gold cup worth about +twenty-five, merely because Queen Elizabeth once drank from it. This is +my study. It was designed for a banqueting hall." + +They entered a room as long as the wall of the house, pierced on one +side by four tall windows, between which square pillars, with Corinthian +capitals supporting the cornice, were half sunk in the wall. There +were similar pillars on the opposite side, but between them, instead of +windows, were arched niches in which stood life-size plaster statues, +chipped, broken, and defaced in an extraordinary fashion. The flooring, +of diagonally set narrow boards, was uncarpeted and unpolished. The +ceiling was adorned with frescoes, which at once excited Sir Charles's +interest, and he noted with indignation that a large portion of the +painting at the northern end had been destroyed and some glass roofing +inserted. In another place bolts had been driven in to support the ropes +of a trapeze and a few other pieces of gymnastic apparatus. The walls +were whitewashed, and at about four feet from the ground a dark band +appeared, produced by pencil memoranda and little sketches scribbled on +the whitewash. One end of the apartment was unfurnished, except by the +gymnastic apparatus, a photographer's camera, a ladder in the corner, +and a common deal table with oil cans and paint pots upon it. At the +other end a comparatively luxurious show was made by a large bookcase, +an elaborate combination of bureau and writing desk, a rack with a +rifle, a set of foils, and an umbrella in it, several folio albums on a +table, some comfortable chairs and sofas, and a thick carpet under foot. +Close by, and seeming much out of place, was a carpenter's bench with +the usual implements and a number of boards of various thicknesses. + +"This is a sort of comfort beyond the reach of any but a rich man," said +Trefusis, turning and surprising his visitors in the act of exchanging +glances of astonishment at his taste. "I keep a drawing-room of the +usual kind for receiving strangers with whom it is necessary to be +conventional, but I never enter it except on such occasions. What do you +think of this for a study?" + +"On my soul, Trefusis, I think you are mad," said Sir Charles. "The +place looks as if it had stood a siege. How did you manage to break the +statues and chip the walls so outrageously?" + +Trefusis took a newspaper from the table and said, "Listen to this: +'In spite of the unfavorable nature of the weather, the sport of the +Emperor and his guests in Styria has been successful. In three days 52 +chamois and 79 stags and deer fell to 19 single-barrelled rifles, the +Emperor allowing no more on this occasion.' + +"I share the Emperor's delight in shooting, but I am no butcher, and do +not need the royal relish of blood to my sport. And I do not share my +ancestors' taste in statuary. Hence--" Here Trefusis opened a drawer, +took out a pistol, and fired at the Hebe in the farthest niche. + +"Well done!" said Erskine coolly, as the last fragment of Hebe's head +crumbled at the touch of the bullet. + +"Very fruitlessly done," said Trefusis. "I am a good shot, but of what +use is it to me? None. I once met a gamekeeper who was a Methodist. He +was a most eloquent speaker, but a bad shot. If he could have swapped +talents with me I would have given him ten thousand pounds to boot +willingly, although he would have profited as much as I by the exchange +alone. I have no more desire or need to be a good shot than to be +king of England, or owner of a Derby winner, or anything else equally +ridiculous, and yet I never missed my aim in my life--thank blind +fortune for nothing!" + +"King of England!" said Erskine, with a scornful laugh, to show Trefusis +that other people were as liberty-loving as he. "Is it not absurd to +hear a nation boasting of its freedom and tolerating a king?" + +"Oh, hang your republicanism, Chester!" said Sir Charles, who privately +held a low opinion of the political side of the Patriot Martyrs. + +"I won't be put down on that point," said Erskine. "I admire a man that +kills a king. You will agree with me there, Trefusis, won't you?" + +"Certainly not," said Trefusis. "A king nowadays is only a dummy put up +to draw your fire off the real oppressors of society, and the fraction +of his salary that he can spend as he likes is usually far too small for +his risk, his trouble, and the condition of personal slavery to which +he is reduced. What private man in England is worse off than the +constitutional monarch? We deny him all privacy; he may not marry whom +he chooses, consort with whom he prefers, dress according to his taste, +or live where he pleases. I don't believe he may even eat or drink what +he likes best; a taste for tripe and onions on his part would provoke +a remonstrance from the Privy Council. We dictate everything except his +thoughts and dreams, and even these he must keep to himself if they are +not suitable, in our opinion, to his condition. The work we impose on +him has all the hardship of mere task work; it is unfruitful, incessant, +monotonous, and has to be transacted for the most part with nervous +bores. We make his kingdom a treadmill to him, and drive him to and fro +on the face of it. Finally, having taken everything else that men prize +from him, we fall upon his character, and that of every person to whom +he ventures to show favor. We impose enormous expenses on him, +stint him, and then rail at his parsimony. We use him as I use those +statues--stick him up in the place of honor for our greater convenience +in disfiguring and abusing him. We send him forth through our crowded +cities, proclaiming that he is the source of all good and evil in the +nation, and he, knowing that many people believe it, knowing that it is +a lie, and that he is powerless to shorten the working day by one hour, +raise wages one penny, or annul the smallest criminal sentence, however +unjust it may seem to him; knowing that every miner in the kingdom can +manufacture dynamite, and that revolvers are sold for seven and sixpence +apiece; knowing that he is not bullet proof, and that every king in +Europe has been shot at in the streets; he must smile and bow and +maintain an expression of gracious enjoyment whilst the mayor and +corporation inflict upon him the twaddling address he has heard a +thousand times before. I do not ask you to be loyal, Erskine; but I +expect you, in common humanity, to sympathize with the chief figure +in the pageant, who is no more accountable for the manifold evils and +abominations that exist in his realm than the Lord Mayor is accountable +for the thefts of the pickpockets who follow his show on the ninth of +November." + +Sir Charles laughed at the trouble Trefusis took to prove his case, and +said soothingly, "My dear fellow, kings are used to it, and expect it, +and like it." + +"And probably do not see themselves as I see them, any more than common +people do," assented Trefusis. + +"What an exquisite face!" exclaimed Erskine suddenly, catching sight of +a photograph in a rich gold and coral frame on a miniature easel draped +with ruby velvet. Trefusis turned quickly, so evidently gratified that +Sir Charles hastened to say, "Charming!" Then, looking at the portrait, +he added, as if a little startled, "It certainly is an extraordinarily +attractive face." + +"Years ago," said Trefusis, "when I saw that face for the first time, I +felt as you feel now." + +Silence ensued, the two visitors looking at the portrait, Trefusis +looking at them. + +"Curious style of beauty," said Sir Charles at last, not quite so +assuredly as before. + +Trefusis laughed unpleasantly. "Do you recognize the artist--the +enthusiastic amateur--in her?" he said, opening another drawer and +taking out a bundle of drawings, which he handed to be examined. + +"Very clever. Very clever indeed," said Sir Charles. "I should like to +meet the lady." + +"I have often been on the point of burning them," said Trefusis; "but +there they are, and there they are likely to remain. The portrait has +been much admired." + +"Can you give us an introduction to the original, old fellow?" said +Erskine. + +"No, happily. She is dead." + +Disagreeably shocked, they looked at him for a moment with aversion. +Then Erskine, turning with pity and disappointment to the picture, said, +"Poor girl! Was she married?" + +"Yes. To me." + +"Mrs. Trefusis!" exclaimed Sir Charles. "Ah! Dear me!" + +Erskine, with proof before him that it was possible for a beautiful girl +to accept Trefusis, said nothing. + +"I keep her portrait constantly before me to correct my natural +amativeness. I fell in love with her and married her. I have fallen in +love once or twice since but a glance at my lost Hetty has cured me of +the slightest inclination to marry." + +Sir Charles did not reply. It occurred to him that Lady Brandon's +portrait, if nothing else were left of her, might be useful in the same +way. + +"Come, you will marry again one of these days," said Erskine, in a +forced tone of encouragement. + +"It is possible. Men should marry, especially rich men. But I assure you +I have no present intention of doing so." + +Erskine's color deepened, and he moved away to the table where the +albums lay. + +"This is the collection of photographs I spoke of," said Trefusis, +following him and opening one of the books. "I took many of them myself +under great difficulties with regard to light--the only difficulty that +money could not always remove. This is a view of my father's house--or +rather one of his houses. It cost seventy-five thousand pounds." + +"Very handsome indeed," said Sir Charles, secretly disgusted at being +invited to admire a photograph, such as house agents exhibit, of a +vulgarly designed country house, merely because it had cost seventy-five +thousand pounds. The figures were actually written beneath the picture. + +"This is the drawing-room, and this one of the best bedrooms. In the +right-hand corner of the mount you will see a note of the cost of +the furniture, fittings, napery, and so forth. They were of the most +luxurious description." + +"Very interesting," said Sir Charles, hardly disguising the irony of the +comment. + +"Here is a view--this is the first of my own attempts--of the apartment +of one of the under servants. It is comfortable and spacious, and +solidly furnished." + +"So I perceive." + +"These are the stables. Are they not handsome?" + +"Palatial. Quite palatial." + +"There is every luxury that a horse could desire, including plenty of +valets to wait on him. You are noting the figures, I hope. There is the +cost of the building and the expenditure per horse per annum." + +"I see." + +"Here is the exterior of a house. What do you think of it?" + +"It is rather picturesque in its dilapidation." + +"Picturesque! Would you like to live in it?" + +"No," said Erskine. "I don't see anything very picturesque about it. +What induced you to photograph such a wretched old rookery?" + +"Here is a view of the best room in it. Photography gives you a fair +idea of the broken flooring and patched windows, but you must imagine +the dirt and the odor of the place. Some of the stains are weather +stains, others came from smoke and filth. The landlord of the house +holds it from a peer and lets it out in tenements. Three families +occupied that room when I photographed it. You will see by the figures +in the corner that it is more profitable to the landlord than an average +house in Mayfair. Here is the cellar, let to a family for one and +sixpence a week, and considered a bargain. The sun never shines there, +of course. I took it by artificial light. You may add to the rent the +cost of enough bad beer to make the tenant insensible to the filth of +the place. Beer is the chloroform that enables the laborer to endure the +severe operation of living; that is why we can always assure one another +over our wine that the rascal's misery is due to his habit of drinking. +We are down on him for it, because, if he could bear his life without +beer, we should save his beer-money--get him for lower wages. In short, +we should be richer and he soberer. Here is the yard; the arrangements +are indescribable. Seven of the inhabitants of that house had worked for +years in my father's mill. That is, they had created a considerable part +of the vast sums of money for drawing your attention to which you were +disgusted with me just now." + +"Not at all," said Sir Charles faintly. + +"You can see how their condition contrasts with that of my father's +horses. The seven men to whom I have alluded, with three hundred others, +were thrown destitute upon the streets by this." (Here he turned over a +leaf and displayed a photograph of an elaborate machine.) "It enabled my +father to dispense with their services, and to replace them by a handful +of women and children. He had bought the patent of the machine for fifty +pounds from the inventor, who was almost ruined by the expenses of his +ingenuity, and would have sacrificed anything for a handful of ready +money. Here is a portrait of my father in his masonic insignia. He +believed that freemasons generally get on in the world, and as the main +object of his life was to get on, he joined them, and wanted me to do +the same. But I object to pretended secret societies and hocus pocus, +and would not. You see what he was--a portly, pushing, egotistical +tradesman. Mark the successful man, the merchant prince with argosies +on every sea, the employer of thousands of hands, the munificent +contributor to public charities, the churchwarden, the member +of parliament, and the generous patron of his relatives his +self-approbation struggling with the instinctive sense of baseness +in the money-hunter, the ignorant and greedy filcher of the labor +of others, the seller of his own mind and manhood for luxuries and +delicacies that he was too lowlived to enjoy, and for the society of +people who made him feel his inferiority at every turn." + +"And the man to whom you owe everything you possess," said Erskine +boldly. + +"I possess very little. Everything he left me, except a few pictures, I +spent long ago, and even that was made by his slaves and not by him. My +wealth comes day by day fresh from the labor of the wretches who live in +the dens I have just shown you, or of a few aristocrats of labor who are +within ten shillings a week of being worse off. However, there is some +excuse for my father. Once, at an election riot, I got into a free +fight. I am a peaceful man, but as I had either to fight or be knocked +down and trampled upon, I exchanged blows with men who were perhaps as +peacefully disposed as I. My father, launched into a free competition +(free in the sense that the fight is free: that is, lawless)--my father +had to choose between being a slave himself and enslaving others. +He chose the latter, and as he was applauded and made much of for +succeeding, who dare blame him? Not I. Besides, he did something to +destroy the anarchy that enabled him to plunder society with impunity. +He furnished me, its enemy, with the powerful weapon of a large fortune. +Thus our system of organizing industry sometimes hatches the eggs from +which its destroyers break. Does Lady Brandon wear much lace?" + +"I--No; that is--How the deuce do I know, Trefusis? What an +extraordinary question!" + +"This is a photograph of a lace school. It was a filthy room, twelve +feet square. It was paved with brick, and the children were not allowed +to wear their boots, lest the lace should get muddy. However, as +there were twenty of them working there for fifteen hours a day--all +girls--they did not suffer much from cold. They were pretty tightly +packed--may be still, for aught I know. They brought three or four +shillings a week sometimes to their fond parents; and they were very +quick-fingered little creatures, and stuck intensely to their work, as +the overseer always hit them when they looked up or--" + +"Trefusis," said Sir Charles, turning away from the table, "I beg your +pardon, but I have no appetite for horrors. You really must not ask me +to go through your collection. It is no doubt very interesting, but I +can't stand it. Have you nothing pleasant to entertain me with?" + +"Pooh! you are squeamish. However, as you are a novice, let us put off +the rest until you are seasoned. The pictures are not all horrible. Each +book refers to a different country. That one contains illustrations of +modern civilization in Germany, for instance. That one is France; that, +British India. Here you have the United States of America, home of +liberty, theatre of manhood suffrage, kingless and lordless land of +Protection, Republicanism, and the realized Radical Programme, where all +the black chattel slaves were turned into wage-slaves (like my father's +white fellows) at a cost of 800,000 lives and wealth incalculable. +You and I are paupers in comparison with the great capitalists of that +country, where the laborers fight for bones with the Chinamen, like +dogs. Some of these great men presented me with photographs of their +yachts and palaces, not anticipating the use to which I would put them. +Here are some portraits that will not harrow your feelings. This is my +mother, a woman of good family, every inch a lady. Here is a Lancashire +lass, the daughter of a common pitman. She has exactly the same physical +characteristics as my well-born mother--the same small head, delicate +features, and so forth; they might be sisters. This villainous-looking +pair might be twin brothers, except that there is a trace of good humor +about the one to the right. The good-humored one is a bargee on the +Lyvern Canal. The other is one of the senior noblemen of the British +Peerage. They illustrate the fact that Nature, even when perverted by +generations of famine fever, ignores the distinctions we set up +between men. This group of men and women, all tolerably intelligent +and thoughtful looking, are so-called enemies of society--Nihilists, +Anarchists, Communards, members of the International, and so on. These +other poor devils, worried, stiff, strumous, awkward, vapid, and rather +coarse, with here and there a passably pretty woman, are European kings, +queens, grand-dukes, and the like. Here are ship-captains, criminals, +poets, men of science, peers, peasants, political economists, and +representatives of dozens of degrees. The object of the collection is +to illustrate the natural inequality of man, and the failure of our +artificial inequality to correspond with it." + +"It seems to me a sort of infernal collection for the upsetting of +people's ideas," said Erskine. "You ought to label it 'A Portfolio of +Paradoxes.'" + +"In a rational state of society they would be paradoxes; but now +the time gives them proof--like Hamlet's paradox. It is, however, a +collection of facts; and I will give no fanciful name to it. You dislike +figures, don't you?" + +"Unless they are by Phidias, yes." + +"Here are a few, not by Phidias. This is the balance sheet of an +attempt I made some years ago to carry out the idea of an International +Association of Laborers--commonly known as THE International--or union +of all workmen throughout the world in defence of the interests of +labor. You see the result. Expenditure, four thousand five hundred +pounds. Subscriptions received from working-men, twenty-two pounds seven +and ten pence halfpenny. The British workmen showed their sense of my +efforts to emancipate them by accusing me of making a good thing out of +the Association for my own pocket, and by mobbing and stoning me twice. +I now help them only when they show some disposition to help themselves. +I occupy myself partly in working out a scheme for the reorganization of +industry, and partly in attacking my own class, women and all, as I am +attacking you." + +"There is little use in attacking us, I fear," said Sir Charles. + +"Great use," said Trefusis confidently. "You have a very different +opinion of our boasted civilization now from that which you held when I +broke your wall down and invited those Land Nationalization zealots to +march across your pleasure ground. You have seen in my album something +you had not seen an hour ago, and you are consequently not quite the +same man you were an hour ago. My pictures stick in the mind longer than +your scratchy etchings, or the leaden things in which you fancy you see +tender harmonies in gray. Erskine's next drama may be about liberty, +but its Patriot Martyrs will have something better to do than spout +balderdash against figure-head kings who in all their lives never +secretly plotted as much dastardly meanness, greed, cruelty, and +tyranny as is openly voted for in London by every half-yearly meeting +of dividend-consuming vermin whose miserable wage-slaves drudge sixteen +hours out of the twenty-four." + +"What is going to be the end of it all?" said Sir Charles, a little +dazed. + +"Socialism or Smash. Socialism if the race has at last evolved the +faculty of coordinating the functions of a society too crowded and +complex to be worked any longer on the old haphazard private-property +system. Unless we reorganize our society socialistically--humanly a most +arduous and magnificent enterprise, economically a most simple and sound +one--Free Trade by itself will ruin England, and I will tell you exactly +how. When my father made his fortune we had the start of all other +nations in the organization of our industry and in our access to iron +and coal. Other nations bought our products for less than they must have +spent to raise them at home, and yet for so much more than they cost +us, that profits rolled in Atlantic waves upon our capitalists. When +the workers, by their trades-unions, demanded a share of the luck in +the form of advanced wages, it paid better to give them the little they +dared to ask than to stop gold-gathering to fight and crush them. But +now our customers have set up in their own countries improved copies of +our industrial organization, and have discovered places where iron +and coal are even handier than they are by this time in England. They +produce for themselves, or buy elsewhere, what they formerly bought +from us. Our profits are vanishing, our machinery is standing idle, +our workmen are locked out. It pays now to stop the mills and fight +and crush the unions when the men strike, no longer for an advance, but +against a reduction. Now that these unions are beaten, helpless, and +drifting to bankruptcy as the proportion of unemployed men in their +ranks becomes greater, they are being petted and made much of by our +class; an infallible sign that they are making no further progress in +their duty of destroying us. The small capitalists are left stranded by +the ebb; the big ones will follow the tide across the water, and +rebuild their factories where steam power, water power, labor power, +and transport are now cheaper than in England, where they used to be +cheapest. The workers will emigrate in pursuit of the factory, but they +will multiply faster than they emigrate, and be told that their own +exorbitant demand for wages is driving capital abroad, and must continue +to do so whilst there is a Chinaman or a Hindoo unemployed to underbid +them. As the British factories are shut up, they will be replaced by +villas; the manufacturing districts will become fashionable resorts for +capitalists living on the interest of foreign investments; the farms and +sheep runs will be cleared for deer forests. All products that can +in the nature of things be manufactured elsewhere than where they are +consumed will be imported in payment of deer-forest rents from foreign +sportsmen, or of dividends due to shareholders resident in England, but +holding shares in companies abroad, and these imports will not be paid +for by ex ports, because rent and interest are not paid for at all--a +fact which the Free Traders do not yet see, or at any rate do not +mention, although it is the key to the whole mystery of their opponents. +The cry for Protection will become wild, but no one will dare resort to +a demonstrably absurd measure that must raise prices before it raises +wages, and that has everywhere failed to benefit the worker. There will +be no employment for anyone except in doing things that must be done on +the spot, such as unpacking and distributing the imports, ministering to +the proprietors as domestic servants, or by acting, preaching, paving, +lighting, housebuilding, and the rest; and some of these, as the +capitalist comes to regard ostentation as vulgar, and to enjoy a simpler +life, will employ fewer and fewer people. A vast proletariat, beginning +with a nucleus of those formerly employed in export trades, with their +multiplying progeny, will be out of employment permanently. They will +demand access to the land and machinery to produce for themselves. They +will be refused. They will break a few windows and be dispersed with +a warning to their leaders. They will burn a few houses and murder a +policeman or two, and then an example will be made of the warned. They +will revolt, and be shot down with machine-guns--emigrated--exterminated +anyhow and everyhow; for the proprietary classes have no idea of any +other means of dealing with the full claims of labor. You yourself, +though you would give fifty pounds to Jansenius's emigration fund +readily enough, would call for the police, the military, and the Riot +Act, if the people came to Brandon Beeches and bade you turn out and +work for your living with the rest. Well, the superfluous proletariat +destroyed, there will remain a population of capitalists living on +gratuitous imports and served by a disaffected retinue. One day the +gratuitous imports will stop in consequence of the occurrence abroad of +revolution and repudiation, fall in the rate of interest, purchase of +industries by governments for lump sums, not reinvestable, or what +not. Our capitalist community is then thrown on the remains of the last +dividend, which it consumes long before it can rehabilitate its extinct +machinery of production in order to support itself with its own hands. +Horses, dogs, cats, rats, blackberries, mushrooms, and cannibalism only +postpone--" + +"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted Sir Charles. "On my honor, I thought you were +serious at first, Trefusis. Come, confess, old chap; it's all a fad of +yours. I half suspected you of being a bit of a crank." And he winked at +Erskine. + +"What I have described to you is the inevitable outcome of our present +Free Trade policy without Socialism. The theory of Free Trade is only +applicable to systems of exchange, not to systems of spoliation. Our +system is one of spoliation, and if we don't abandon it, we must either +return to Protection or go to smash by the road I have just mapped. Now, +sooner than let the Protectionists triumph, the Cobden Club itself would +blow the gaff and point out to the workers that Protection only means +compelling the proprietors of England to employ slaves resident +in England and therefore presumably--though by no means +necessarily--Englishmen. This would open the eyes of the nation at last +to the fact that England is not their property. Once let them understand +that and they would soon make it so. When England is made the property +of its inhabitants collectively, England becomes socialistic. Artificial +inequality will vanish then before real freedom of contract; freedom +of competition, or unhampered emulation, will keep us moving ahead; and +Free Trade will fulfil its promises at last." + +"And the idlers and loafers," said Erskine. "What of them?" + +"You and I, in fact," said Trefusis, "die of starvation, I suppose, +unless we choose to work, or unless they give us a little out-door +relief in consideration of our bad bringing-up." + +"Do you mean that they will plunder us?" said Sir Charles. + +"I mean that they will make us stop plundering them. If they hesitate +to strip us naked, or to cut our throats if we offer them the smallest +resistance, they will show us more mercy than we ever showed them. +Consider what we have done to get our rents in Ireland and Scotland, and +our dividends in Egypt, if you have already forgotten my photographs and +their lesson in our atrocities at home. Why, man, we murder the great +mass of these toilers with overwork and hardship; their average lifetime +is not half as long as ours. Human nature is the same in them as in us. +If we resist them, and succeed in restoring order, as we call it, we +will punish them mercilessly for their insubordination, as we did in +Paris in 1871, where, by-the-bye, we taught them the folly of giving +their enemies quarter. If they beat us, we shall catch it, and serve us +right. Far better turn honest at once and avert bloodshed. Eh, Erskine?" + +Erskine was considering what reply he should make, when Trefusis +disconcerted him by ringing a bell. Presently the elderly woman +appeared, pushing before her an oblong table mounted on wheels, like a +barrow. + +"Thank you," said Trefusis, and dismissed her. "Here is some good wine, +some good water, some good fruit, and some good bread. I know that +you cling to wine as to a good familiar creature. As for me, I make no +distinction between it and other vegetable poisons. I abstain from them +all. Water for serenity, wine for excitement. I, having boiling springs +of excitement within myself, am never at a loss for it, and have only +to seek serenity. However," (here he drew a cork), "a generous goblet +of this will make you feel like gods for half an hour at least. Shall we +drink to your conversion to Socialism?" + +Sir Charles shook his head. + +"Come, Mr. Donovan Brown, the great artist, is a Socialist, and why +should not you be one?" + +"Donovan Brown!" exclaimed Sir Charles with interest. "Is it possible? +Do you know him personally?" + +"Here are several letters from him. You may read them; the mere +autograph of such a man is interesting." + +Sir Charles took the letters and read them earnestly, Erskine reading +over his shoulder. + +"I most cordially agree with everything he says here," said Sir Charles. +"It is quite true, quite true." + +"Of course you agree with us. Donovan Brown's eminence as an artist has +gained me one recruit, and yours as a baronet will gain me some more." + +"But--" + +"But what?" said Trefusis, deftly opening one of the albums at a +photograph of a loathsome room. + +"You are against that, are you not? Donovan Brown is against it, and I +am against it. You may disagree with us in everything else, but there +you are at one with us. Is it not so?" + +"But that may be the result of drunkenness, improvidence, or--" + +"My father's income was fifty times as great as that of Donovan +Brown. Do you believe that Donovan Brown is fifty times as drunken and +improvident as my father was?" + +"Certainly not. I do not deny that there is much in what you urge. +Still, you ask me to take a rather important step." + +"Not a bit of it. I don't ask you to subscribe to, join, or in any way +pledge yourself to any society or conspiracy whatsoever. I only want +your name for private mention to cowards who think Socialism right, but +will not say so because they do not think it respectable. They will not +be ashamed of their convictions when they learn that a baronet shares +them. Socialism offers you something already, you see; a good use for +your hitherto useless title." + +Sir Charles colored a little, conscious that the example of his favorite +painter had influenced him more than his own conviction or the arguments +of Trefusis. + +"What do you think, Chester?" he said. "Will you join?" + +"Erskine is already committed to the cause of liberty by his published +writings," said Trefusis. "Three of the pamphlets on that shelf contain +quotations from 'The Patriot Martyrs.'" + +Erskine blushed, flattered by being quoted; an attention that had been +shown him only once before, and then by a reviewer with the object of +proving that the Patriot Martyrs were slovenly in their grammar. + +"Come!" said Trefusis. "Shall I write to Donovan Brown that his letters +have gained the cordial assent and sympathy of Sir Charles Brandon?" + +"Certainly, certainly. That is, if my unknown name would be of the least +interest to him." + +"Good," said Trefusis, filling his glass with water. "Erskine, let us +drink to our brother Social Democrat." + +Erskine laughed loudly, but not heartily. "What an ass you are, +Brandon!" he said. "You, with a large landed estate, and bags of gold +invested in railways, calling yourself a Social Democrat! Are you going +to sell out and distribute--to sell all that thou hast and give to the +poor?" + +"Not a penny," replied Trefusis for him promptly. "A man cannot be a +Christian in this country. I have tried it and found it impossible both +in law and in fact. I am a capitalist and a landholder. I have railway +shares, mining shares, building shares, bank shares, and stock of most +kinds; and a great trouble they are to me. But these shares do not +represent wealth actually in existence; they are a mortgage on the labor +of unborn generations of laborers, who must work to keep me and mine in +idleness and luxury. If I sold them, would the mortgage be cancelled and +the unborn generations released from its thrall? No. It would only pass +into the hands of some other capitalist, and the working class would be +no better off for my self-sacrifice. Sir Charles cannot obey the command +of Christ; I defy him to do it. Let him give his land for a public park; +only the richer classes will have leisure to enjoy it. Plant it at the +very doors of the poor, so that they may at last breathe its air, and it +will raise the value of the neighboring houses and drive the poor away. +Let him endow a school for the poor, like Eton or Christ's Hospital, +and the rich will take it for their own children as they do in the +two instances I have named. Sir Charles does not want to minister to +poverty, but to abolish it. No matter how much you give to the poor, +everything except a bare subsistence wage will be taken from them again +by force. All talk of practicing Christianity, or even bare justice, is +at present mere waste of words. How can you justly reward the laborer +when you cannot ascertain the value of what he makes, owing to the +prevalent custom of stealing it? I know this by experience. I wanted to +pay a just price for my wife's tomb, but I could not find out its +value, and never shall. The principle on which we farm out our national +industry to private marauders, who recompense themselves by black-mail, +so corrupts and paralyzes us that we cannot be honest even when we want +to. And the reason we bear it so calmly is that very few of us really +want to." + +"I must study this question of value," said Sir Charles dubiously, +refilling his goblet. "Can you recommend me a good book on the subject?" + +"Any good treatise on political economy will do," said Trefusis. "In +economics all roads lead to Socialism, although in nine cases out of +ten, so far, the economist doesn't recognize his destination, and incurs +the malediction pronounced by Jeremiah on those who justify the wicked +for reward. I will look you out a book or two. And if you will call on +Donovan Brown the next time you are in London, he will be delighted, I +know. He meets with very few who are capable of sympathizing with him +from both his points of view--social and artistic." + +Sir Charles brightened on being reminded of Donovan Brown. "I shall +esteem an introduction to him a great honor," he said. "I had no idea +that he was a friend of yours." + +"I was a very practical young Socialist when I first met him," said +Trefusis. "When Brown was an unknown and wretchedly poor man, my +mother, at the petition of a friend of his, charitably bought one of +his pictures for thirty pounds, which he was very glad to get. Years +afterwards, when my mother was dead, and Brown famous, I was offered +eight hundred pounds for this picture, which was, by-the-bye, a very +bad one in my opinion. Now, after making the usual unjust allowance for +interest on thirty pounds for twelve years or so that had elapsed, the +sale of the picture would have brought me in a profit of over seven +hundred and fifty pounds, an unearned increment to which I had no +righteous claim. My solicitor, to whom I mentioned the matter, was of +opinion that I might justifiably pocket the seven hundred and fifty +pounds as reward for my mother's benevolence in buying a presumably +worthless picture from an obscure painter. But he failed to convince me +that I ought to be paid for my mother's virtues, though we agreed that +neither I nor my mother had received any return in the shape of pleasure +in contemplating the work, which had deteriorated considerably by the +fading of the colors since its purchase. At last I went to Brown's +studio with the picture, and told him that it was worth nothing to me, +as I thought it a particularly bad one, and that he might have it back +again for fifteen pounds, half the first price. He at once told me that +I could get from any dealer more for it than he could afford to give me; +but he told me too that I had no right to make a profit out of his work, +and that he would give me the original price of thirty pounds. I took +it, and then sent him the man who had offered me the eight hundred. +To my discomfiture Brown refused to sell it on any terms, because he +considered it unworthy of his reputation. The man bid up to fifteen +hundred, but Brown held out; and I found that instead of putting seven +hundred and seventy pounds into his pocket I had taken thirty out of +it. I accordingly offered to return the thirty pieces. Brown, taking the +offer as an insult, declined all further communication with me. I then +insisted on the matter being submitted to arbitration, and demanded +fifteen hundred pounds as the full exchange value of the picture. All +the arbitrators agreed that this was monstrous, whereupon I contended +that if they denied my right to the value in exchange, they must admit +my right to the value in use. They assented to this after putting off +their decision for a fortnight in order to read Adam Smith and discover +what on earth I meant by my values in use and exchange. I now showed +that the picture had no value in use to me, as I disliked it, and that +therefore I was entitled to nothing, and that Brown must take back the +thirty pounds. They were glad to concede this also to me, as they were +all artist friends of Brown, and wished him not to lose money by the +transaction, though they of course privately thought that the picture +was, as I described it, a bad one. After that Brown and I became very +good friends. He tolerated my advances, at first lest it should seem +that he was annoyed by my disparagement of his work. Subsequently he +fell into my views much as you have done." + +"That is very interesting," said Sir Charles. "What a noble +thing--refusing fifteen hundred pounds! He could ill afford it, +probably." + +"Heroic--according to nineteenth century notions of heroism. Voluntarily +to throw away a chance of making money! that is the ne plus ultra of +martyrdom. Brown's wife was extremely angry with him for doing it." + +"It is an interesting story--or might be made so," said Erskine. "But +you make my head spin with your confounded exchange values and stuff. +Everything is a question of figures with you." + +"That comes of my not being a poet," said Trefusis. "But we Socialists +need to study the romantic side of our movement to interest women in it. +If you want to make a cause grow, instruct every woman you meet in it. +She is or will one day be a wife, and will contradict her husband with +scraps of your arguments. A squabble will follow. The son will listen, +and will be set thinking if he be capable of thought. And so the mind +of the people gets leavened. I have converted many young women. Most of +them know no more of the economic theory of Socialism than they know of +Chaldee; but they no longer fear or condemn its name. Oh, I assure you +that much can be done in that way by men who are not afraid of women, +and who are not in too great a hurry to see the harvest they have sown +for." + +"Take care. Some of your lady proselytes may get the better of you some +day. The future husband to be contradicted may be Sidney Trefusis. Ha! +ha! ha!" Sir Charles had emptied a second large goblet of wine, and was +a little flushed and boisterous. + +"No," said Trefusis, "I have had enough of love myself, and am not +likely to inspire it. Women do not care for men to whom, as Erskine +says, everything is a question of figures. I used to flirt with women; +now I lecture them, and abhor a man-flirt worse than I do a woman one. +Some more wine? Oh, you must not waste the remainder of this bottle." + +"I think we had better go, Brandon," said Erskine, his mistrust of +Trefusis growing. "We promised to be back before two." + +"So you shall," said Trefusis. "It is not yet a quarter past one. +By-the-bye, I have not shown you Donovan Brown's pet instrument for the +regeneration of society. Here it is. A monster petition praying that the +holding back from the laborer of any portion of the net value produced +by his labor be declared a felony. That is all." + +Erskine nudged Sir Charles, who said hastily, "Thank you, but I had +rather not sign anything." + +"A baronet sign such a petition!" exclaimed Trefusis. "I did not think +of asking you. I only show it to you as an interesting historical +document, containing the autographs of a few artists and poets. There is +Donovan Brown's for example. It was he who suggested the petition, which +is not likely to do much good, as the thing cannot be done in any such +fashion However, I have promised Brown to get as many signatures as I +can; so you may as well sign it, Erskine. It says nothing in blank verse +about the holiness of slaying a tyrant, but it is a step in the right +direction. You will not stick at such a trifle--unless the reviews have +frightened you. Come, your name and address." + +Erskine shook his head. + +"Do you then only commit yourself to revolutionary sentiments when there +is a chance of winning fame as a poet by them?" + +"I will not sign, simply because I do not choose to," said Erskine +warmly. + +"My dear fellow," said Trefusis, almost affectionately, "if a man has a +conscience he can have no choice in matters of conviction. I have read +somewhere in your book that the man who will not shed his blood for the +liberty of his brothers is a coward and a slave. Will you not shed a +drop of ink--my ink, too--for the right of your brothers to the work +of their hands? I at first sight did not care to sign this petition, +because I would as soon petition a tiger to share his prey with me as +our rulers to relax their grip of the stolen labor they live on. But +Donovan Brown said to me, 'You have no choice. Either you believe that +the laborer should have the fruit of his labor or you do not. If you +do, put your conviction on record, even if it should be as useless as +Pilate's washing his hands.' So I signed." + +"Donovan Brown was right," said Sir Charles. "I will sign." And he did +so with a flourish. + +"Brown will be delighted," said Trefusis. "I will write to him to-day +that I have got another good signature for him." + +"Two more," said Sir Charles. "You shall sign, Erskine; hang me if you +shan't! It is only against rascals that run away without paying their +men their wages." + +"Or that don't pay them in full," observed Trefusis, with a curious +smile. "But do not sign if you feel uncomfortable about it." + +"If you don't sign after me, you are a sneak, Chester," said Sir +Charles. + +"I don't know what it means," said Erskine, wavering. "I don't +understand petitions." + +"It means what it says; you cannot be held responsible for any meaning +that is not expressed in it," said Trefusis. "But never mind. You +mistrust me a little, I fancy, and would rather not meddle with my +petitions; but you will think better of that as you grow used to me. +Meanwhile, there is no hurry. Don't sign yet." + +"Nonsense! I don't doubt your good faith," said Erskine, hastily +disavowing suspicions which he felt but could not account for. "Here +goes!" And he signed. + +"Well done!" said Trefusis. "This will make Brown happy for the rest of +the month." + +"It is time for us to go now," said Erskine gloomily. + +"Look in upon me at any time; you shall be welcome," said Trefusis. "You +need not stand upon any sort of ceremony." + +Then they parted; Sir Charles assuring Trefusis that he had never spent +a more interesting morning, and shaking hands with him at considerable +length three times. Erskine said little until he was in the Riverside +Road with his friend, when he suddenly burst out: + +"What the devil do you mean by drinking two tumblers of such staggering +stuff at one o'clock in the day in the house of a dangerous man like +that? I am very sorry I went into the fellow's place. I had misgivings +about it, and they have been fully borne out." + +"How so?" said Sir Charles, taken aback. + +"He has overreached us. I was a deuced fool to sign that paper, and so +were you. It was for that that he invited us." + +"Rubbish, my dear boy. It was not his paper, but Donovan Brown's." + +"I doubt it. Most likely he talked Brown into signing it just as he +talked us. I tell you his ways are all crooked, like his ideas. Did you +hear how he lied about Miss Lindsay?" + +"Oh, you were mistaken about that. He does not care two straws for her +or for anyone." + +"Well, if you are satisfied, I am not. You would not be in such high +spirits over it if you had taken as little wine as I." + +"Pshaw! you're too ridiculous. It was capital wine. Do you mean to say I +am drunk?" + +"No. But you would not have signed if you had not taken that second +goblet. If you had not forced me--I could not get out of it after +you set the example--I would have seen him d--d sooner than have had +anything to do with his petition." + +"I don't see what harm can come of it," said Sir Charles, braving out +some secret disquietude. + +"I will never go into his house again," said Erskine moodily. "We were +just like two flies in a spider's web." + +Meanwhile, Trefusis was fulfilling his promise to write to Donovan +Brown. + +"Sallust's House. + +"Dear Brown: I have spent the forenoon angling for a couple of very +young fish, and have landed them with more trouble than they are worth. +One has gaudy scales: he is a baronet, and an amateur artist, save the +mark. All my arguments and my little museum of photographs were lost on +him; but when I mentioned your name, and promised him an introduction to +you, he gorged the bait greedily. He was half drunk when he signed; and +I should not have let him touch the paper if I had not convinced myself +beforehand that he means well, and that my wine had only freed his +natural generosity from his conventional cowardice and prejudice. +We must get his name published in as many journals as possible as a +signatory to the great petition; it will draw on others as your name +drew him. The second novice, Chichester Erskine, is a young poet. +He will not be of much use to us, though he is a devoted champion of +liberty in blank verse, and dedicates his works to Mazzini, etc. He +signed reluctantly. All this hesitation is the uncertainty that comes +of ignorance; they have not found out the truth for themselves, and are +afraid to trust me, matters having come to the pass at which no man +dares trust his fellow. + +"I have met a pretty young lady here who might serve you as a model for +Hypatia. She is crammed with all the prejudices of the peerage, but I am +effecting a cure. I have set my heart on marrying her to Erskine, who, +thinking that I am making love to her on my own account, is jealous. The +weather is pleasant here, and I am having a merry life of it, but I find +myself too idle. Etc., etc., etc." + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +One sunny forenoon, as Agatha sat reading on the doorstep of the +conservatory, the shadow of her parasol deepened, and she, looking up +for something denser than the silk of it, saw Trefusis. + +"Oh!" + +She offered him no further greeting, having fallen in with his habit +of dispensing, as far as possible, with salutations and ceremonies. +He seemed in no hurry to speak, and so, after a pause, she began, "Sir +Charles--" + +"Is gone to town," he said. "Erskine is out on his bicycle. Lady Brandon +and Miss Lindsay have gone to the village in the wagonette, and you have +come out here to enjoy the summer sun and read rubbish. I know all your +news already." + +"You are very clever, and, as usual, wrong. Sir Charles has not gone to +town. He has only gone to the railway station for some papers; he will +be back for luncheon. How do you know so much of our affairs?" + +"I was on the roof of my house with a field-glass. I saw you come out +and sit down here. Then Sir Charles passed. Then Erskine. Then Lady +Brandon, driving with great energy, and presenting a remarkable contrast +to the disdainful repose of Gertrude." + +"Gertrude! I like your cheek." + +"You mean that you dislike my presumption." + +"No, I think cheek a more expressive word than presumption; and I mean +that I like it--that it amuses me." + +"Really! What are you reading?" + +"Rubbish, you said just now. A novel." + +"That is, a lying story of two people who never existed, and who would +have acted very differently if they had existed." + +"Just so." + +"Could you not imagine something just as amusing for yourself?" + +"Perhaps so; but it would be too much trouble. Besides, cooking takes +away one's appetite for eating. I should not relish stories of my own +confection." + +"Which volume are you at?" + +"The third." + +"Then the hero and heroine are on the point of being united?" + +"I really don't know. This is one of your clever novels. I wish the +characters would not talk so much." + +"No matter. Two of them are in love with one another, are they not?" + +"Yes. It would not be a novel without that." + +"Do you believe, in your secret soul, Agatha--I take the liberty of +using your Christian name because I wish to be very solemn--do you +really believe that any human being was ever unselfish enough to love +another in the story-book fashion?" + +"Of course. At least I suppose so. I have never thought much about it." + +"I doubt it. My own belief is that no latter-day man has any faith in +the thoroughness or permanence of his affection for his mate. Yet he +does not doubt the sincerity of her professions, and he conceals the +hollowness of his own from her, partly because he is ashamed of it, +and partly out of pity for her. And she, on the other side, is playing +exactly the same comedy." + +"I believe that is what men do, but not women." + +"Indeed! Pray do you remember pretending to be very much in love with me +once when--" + +Agatha reddened and placed her palm on the step as if about to spring +up. But she checked herself and said: "Stop, Mr. Trefusis. If you talk +about that I shall go away. I wonder at you! Have you no taste?', + +"None whatever. And as I was the aggrieved party on that--stay, don't +go. I will never allude to it again. I am growing afraid of you. You +used to be afraid of me." + +"Yes; and you used to bully me. You have a habit of bullying women who +are weak enough to fear you. You are a great deal cleverer than I, and +know much more, I dare say; but I am not in the least afraid of you +now." + +"You have no reason to be, and never had any. Henrietta, if she were +alive, could testify that it there is a defect in my relations with +women, it arises from my excessive amiability. I could not refuse a +woman anything she had set her heart upon--except my hand in marriage. +As long as your sex are content to stop short of that they can do as +they please with me." + +"How cruel! I thought you were nearly engaged to Gertrude." + +"The usual interpretation of a friendship between a man and a woman! I +have never thought of such a thing; and I am sure she never has. We are +not half so intimate as you and Sir Charles." + +"Oh, Sir Charles is married. And I advise you to get married if you wish +to avoid creating misunderstandings by your friendships." + +Trefusis was struck. Instead of answering, he stood, after one startled +glance at her, looking intently at the knuckle of his forefinger. + +"Do take pity on our poor sex," said Agatha maliciously. "You are so +rich, and so very clever, and really so nice looking that you ought to +share yourself with somebody. Gertrude would be only too happy." + +Trefusis grinned and shook his head, slowly but emphatically. + +"I suppose _I_ should have no chance," continued Agatha pathetically. + +"I should be delighted, of course," he replied with simulated confusion, +but with a lurking gleam in his eye that might have checked her, had she +noticed it. + +"Do marry me, Mr. Trefusis," she pleaded, clasping her hands in a +rapture of mischievous raillery. "Pray do." + +"Thank you," said Trefusis determinedly; "I will." + +"I am very sure you shan't," said Agatha, after an incredulous pause, +springing up and gathering her skirt as if to run away. "You do not +suppose I was in earnest, do you?" + +"Undoubtedly I do. _I_ am in earnest." + +Agatha hesitated, uncertain whether he might not be playing with her as +she had just been playing with him. "Take care," she said. "I may +change my mind and be in earnest, too; and then how will you feel, Mr. +Trefusis?" + +"I think, under our altered relations, you had better call me Sidney." + +"I think we had better drop the joke. It was in rather bad taste, and I +should not have made it, perhaps." + +"It would be an execrable joke; therefore I have no intention of +regarding it as one. You shall be held to your offer, Agatha. Are you in +love with me?" + +"Not in the least. Not the very smallest bit in the world. I do not know +anybody with whom I am less in love or less likely to be in love." + +"Then you must marry me. If you were in love with me, I should run +away. My sainted Henrietta adored me, and I proved unworthy of +adoration--though I was immensely flattered." + +"Yes; exactly! The way you treated your first wife ought to be +sufficient to warn any woman against becoming your second." + +"Any woman who loved me, you mean. But you do not love me, and if I run +away you will have the advantage of being rid of me. Our settlements can +be drawn so as to secure you half my fortune in such an event." + +"You will never have a chance of running away from me." + +"I shall not want to. I am not so squeamish as I was. No; I do not think +I shall run away from you." + +"I do not think so either." + +"Well, when shall we be married?" + +"Never," said Agatha, and fled. But before she had gone a step he caught +her. + +"Don't," she said breathlessly. "Take your arm away. How dare you?" + +He released her and shut the door of the conservatory. "Now," he said, +"if you want to run away you will have to run in the open." + +"You are very impertinent. Let me go in immediately." + +"Do you want me to beg you to marry me after you have offered to do it +freely?" + +"But I was only joking; I don't care for you," she said, looking round +for an outlet. + +"Agatha," he said, with grim patience, "half an hour ago I had no more +intention of marrying you than of making a voyage to the moon. But when +you made the suggestion I felt all its force in an instant, and now +nothing will satisfy me but your keeping your word. Of all the women I +know, you are the only one not quite a fool." + +"I should be a great fool if--" + +"If you married me, you were going to say; but I don't think so. I am +the only man, not quite an ass, of your acquaintance. I know my value, +and yours. And I loved you long ago, when I had no right to." + +Agatha frowned. "No," she said. "There is no use in saying anything more +about it. It is out of the question." + +"Come, don't be vindictive. I was more sincere then than you were. But +that has nothing to do with the present. You have spent our renewed +acquaintance on the defensive against me, retorting upon me, teasing and +tempting me. Be generous for once, and say Yes with a good will." + +"Oh, I NEVER tempted you," cried Agatha. "I did not. It is not true." +He said nothing, but offered his hand. "No; go away; I will not." +He persisted, and she felt her power of resistance suddenly wane. +Terror-stricken, she said hastily, "There is not the least use in +bothering me; I will tell you nothing to-day." + +"Promise me on your honor that you will say Yes to-morrow, and I will +leave you in peace until then." + +"I will not." + +"The deuce take your sex," he said plaintively. + +"You know my mind now, and I have to stand here coquetting because +you don't know your own. If I cared for my comfort I should remain a +bachelor." + +"I advise you to do so," she said, stealing backward towards the door. +"You are a very interesting widower. A wife would spoil you. Consider +the troubles of domesticity, too." + +"I like troubles. They strengthen--Aha!" (she had snatched at the knob +of the door, and he swiftly put his hand on hers and stayed her). "Not +yet, if you please. Can you not speak out like a woman--like a man, I +mean? You may withhold a bone from Max until he stands on his hind legs +to beg for it, but you should not treat me like a dog. Say Yes frankly, +and do not keep me begging." + +"What in the world do you want to marry me for?" + +"Because I was made to carry a house on my shoulders, and will do so. +I want to do the best I can for myself, and I shall never have such a +chance again. And I cannot help myself, and don't know why; that is the +plain truth of the matter. You will marry someone some day." She shook +her head. "Yes, you will. Why not marry me?" + +Agatha bit her nether lip, looked ruefully at the ground, and, after +a long pause, said reluctantly, "Very well. But mind, I think you are +acting very foolishly, and if you are disappointed afterwards, you must +not blame ME." + +"I take the risk of my bargain," he said, releasing her hand, and +leaning against the door as he took out his pocket diary. "You will have +to take the risk of yours, which I hope may not prove the worse of the +two. This is the seventeenth of June. What date before the twenty-fourth +of July will suit you?" + +"You mean the twenty-fourth of July next year, I presume?" + +"No; I mean this year. I am going abroad on that date, married or not, +to attend a conference at Geneva, and I want you to come with me. I will +show you a lot of places and things that you have never seen before. +It is your right to name the day, but you have no serious business to +provide for, and I have." + +"But you don't know all the things I shall--I should have to provide. +You had better wait until you come back from the continent." + +"There is nothing to be provided on your part but settlements and your +trousseau. The trousseau is all nonsense; and Jansenius knows me of old +in the matter of settlements. I got married in six weeks before." + +"Yes," said Agatha sharply, "but I am not Henrietta." + +"No, thank Heaven," he assented placidly. + +Agatha was struck with remorse. "That was a vile thing for me to say," +she said; "and for you too." + +"Whatever is true is to the purpose, vile or not. Will you come to +Geneva on the twenty-fourth?" + +"But--I really was not thinking when I--I did not intend to say that I +would--I--" + +"I know. You will come if we are married." + +"Yes. IF we are married." + +"We shall be married. Do not write either to your mother or Jansenius +until I ask you." + +"I don't intend to. I have nothing to write about." + +"Wretch that you are! And do not be jealous if you catch me making love +to Lady Brandon. I always do so; she expects it." + +"You may make love to whom you please. It is no concern of mine." + +"Here comes the wagonette with Lady Brandon and Ger--and Miss Lindsay. +I mustn't call her Gertrude now except when you are not by. Before they +interrupt us, let me remind you of the three points we are agreed +upon. I love you. You do not love me. We are to be married before the +twenty-fourth of next month. Now I must fly to help her ladyship to +alight." + +He hastened to the house door, at which the wagonette had just stopped. +Agatha, bewildered, and ashamed to face her friends, went in through the +conservatory, and locked herself in her room. + +Trefusis went into the library with Gertrude whilst Lady Brandon +loitered in the hall to take off her gloves and ask questions of the +servants. When she followed, she found the two standing together at the +window. Gertrude was listening to him with the patient expression she +now often wore when he talked. He was smiling, but it struck Jane that +he was not quite at ease. "I was just beginning to tell Miss Lindsay," +he said, "of an extraordinary thing that has happened during your +absence." + +"I know," exclaimed Jane, with sudden conviction. "The heater in the +conservatory has cracked." + +"Possibly," said Trefusis; "but, if so, I have not heard of it." + +"If it hasn't cracked, it will," said Jane gloomily. Then, assuming with +some effort an interest in Trefusis's news, she added: "Well, what has +happened?" + +"I was chatting with Miss Wylie just now, when a singular idea occurred +to us. We discussed it for some time; and the upshot is that we are to +be married before the end of next month." + +Jane reddened and stared at him; and he looked keenly back at her. +Gertrude, though unobserved, did not suffer her expression of patient +happiness to change in the least; but a greenish-white color suddenly +appeared in her face, and only gave place very slowly to her usual +complexion. + +"Do you mean to say that you are going to marry AGATHA?" said Lady +Brandon incredulously, after a pause. + +"Yes. I had no intention of doing so when I last saw you or I should +have told you." + +"I never heard of such a thing in my life! You fell in love with one +another in five minutes, I suppose." + +"Good Heavens, no! we are not in love with one another. Can you believe +that I would marry for such a frivolous reason? No. The subject turned +up accidentally, and the advantage of a match between us struck me +forcibly. I was fortunate enough to convert her to my opinion." + +"Yes; she wanted a lot of pressing, I dare say," said Jane, glancing at +Gertrude, who was smiling unmeaningly. + +"As you imply," said Trefusis coolly, "her reluctance may have been +affected, and she only too glad to get such a charming husband. Assuming +that to be the case, she dissembled remarkably well." + +Gertrude took off her bonnet, and left the room without speaking. + +"This is my revenge upon you for marrying Brandon," he said then, +approaching Jane. + +"Oh, yes," she retorted ironically. "I believe all that, of course." + +"You have the same security for its truth as for that of all the foolish +things I confess to you. There!" He pointed to a panel of looking glass, +in which Jane's figure was reflected at full length. + +"I don't see anything to admire," said Jane, looking at herself with no +great favor. "There is plenty of me, if you admire that." + +"It is impossible to have too much of a good thing. But I must not look +any more. Though Agatha says she does not love me, I am not sure that +she would be pleased if I were to look for love from anyone else." + +"Says she does not love you! Don't believe her; she has taken trouble +enough to catch you." + +"I am flattered. You caught me without any trouble, and yet you would +not have me." + +"It is manners to wait to be asked. I think you have treated Gertrude +shamefully--I hope you won't be offended with me for saying so. I blame +Agatha most. She is an awfully double-faced girl." + +"How so?" said Trefusis, surprised. "What has Miss Lindsay to do with +it?" + +"You know very well." + +"I assure you I do not. If you were speaking of yourself I could +understand you." + +"Oh, you can get out of it cleverly, like all men; but you can't +hoodwink me. You shouldn't have pretended to like Gertrude when you were +really pulling a cord with Agatha. And she, too, pretending to flirt +with Sir Charles--as if he would care twopence for her!" + +Trefusis seemed a little disturbed. "I hope Miss Lindsay had no +such--but she could not." + +"Oh, couldn't she? You will soon see whether she had or not." + +"You misunderstood us, Lady Brandon; Miss Lindsay knows better. +Remember, too, that this proposal of mine was quite unpremeditated. This +morning I had no tender thoughts of anyone except one whom it would be +improper to name." + +"Oh, that is all talk. It won't do now." + +"I will talk no more at present. I must be off to the village to +telegraph to my solicitor. If I meet Erskine I will tell him the good +news." + +"He will be delighted. He thought, as we all did, that you were cutting +him out with Gertrude." + +Trefusis smiled, shook his head, and, with a glance of admiring homage +to Jane's charms, went out. Jane was contemplating herself in the glass +when a servant begged her to come and speak to Master Charles and Miss +Fanny. She hurried upstairs to the nursery, where her boy and girl, +disputing each other's prior right to torture the baby, had come to +blows. They were somewhat frightened, but not at all appeased, by Jane's +entrance. She scolded, coaxed, threatened, bribed, quoted Dr. Watts, +appealed to the nurse and then insulted her, demanded of the children +whether they loved one another, whether they loved mamma, and whether +they wanted a right good whipping. At last, exasperated by her own +inability to restore order, she seized the baby, which had cried +incessantly throughout, and, declaring that it was doing it on purpose +and should have something real to cry for, gave it an exemplary +smacking, and ordered the others to bed. The boy, awed by the fate of +his infant brother, offered, by way of compromise, to be good if Miss +Wylie would come and play with him, a proposal which provoked from his +jealous mother a box on the ear that sent him howling to his cot. Then +she left the room, pausing on the threshold to remark that if she heard +another sound from them that day, they might expect the worst from her. +On descending, heated and angry, to the drawing-room, she found Agatha +there alone, looking out of window as if the landscape were especially +unsatisfactory this time. + +"Selfish little beasts!" exclaimed Jane, making a miniature whirlwind +with her skirts as she came in. "Charlie is a perfect little fiend. He +spends all his time thinking how he can annoy me. Ugh! He's just like +his father." + +"Thank you, my dear," said Sir Charles from the doorway. + +Jane laughed. "I knew you were there," she said. "Where's Gertrude?" + +"She has gone out," said Sir Charles. + +"Nonsense! She has only just come in from driving with me." + +"I do not know what you mean by nonsense," said Sir Charles, chafing. +"I saw her walking along the Riverside Road. I was in the village road, +and she did not see me. She seemed in a hurry." + +"I met her on the stairs and spoke to her," said Agatha, "but she didn't +hear me." + +"I hope she is not going to throw herself into the river," said Jane. +Then, turning to her husband, she added: "Have you heard the news?" + +"The only news I have heard is from this paper," said Sir Charles, +taking out a journal and flinging it on the table. "There is a paragraph +in it stating that I have joined some infernal Socialistic league, and +I am told that there is an article in the 'Times' on the spread of +Socialism, in which my name is mentioned. This is all due to Trefusis; +and I think he has played me a most dishonorable trick. I will tell him +so, too, when next I see him." + +"You had better be careful what you say of him before Agatha," said +Jane. "Oh, you need not be alarmed, Agatha; I know all about it. He told +us in the library. We went out this morning--Gertrude and I--and when we +came back we found Mr. Trefusis and Agatha talking very lovingly to one +another on the conservatory steps, newly engaged." + +"Indeed!" said Sir Charles, disconcerted and displeased, but trying to +smile. "I may then congratulate you, Miss Wylie?" + +"You need not," said Agatha, keeping her countenance as well as she +could. "It was only a joke. At least it came about in a jest. He has no +right to say that we are engaged." + +"Stuff and nonsense," said Jane. "That won't do, Agatha. He has gone off +to telegraph to his solicitor. He is quite in earnest." + +"I am a great fool," said Agatha, sitting down and twisting her hands +perplexedly. "I believe I said something; but I really did not intend +to. He surprised me into speaking before I knew what I was saying. A +pretty mess I have got myself into!" + +"I am glad you have been outwitted at last," said Jane, laughing +spitefully. "You never had any pity for me when I could not think of the +proper thing to say at a moment's notice." + +Agatha let the taunt pass unheeded. Her gaze wandered anxiously, and at +last settled appealingly upon Sir Charles. "What shall I do?" she said +to him. + +"Well, Miss Wylie," he said gravely, "if you did not mean to marry him +you should not have promised. I don't wish to be unsympathetic, and I +know that it is very hard to get rid of Trefusis when he makes up his +mind to act something out of you, but still--" + +"Never mind her," said Jane, interrupting him. "She wants to marry +him just as badly as he wants to marry her. You would be preciously +disappointed if he cried off, Agatha; for all your interesting +reluctance." + +"That is not so, really," said Agatha earnestly. "I wish I had taken +time to think about it. I suppose he has told everybody by this time." + +"May we then regard it as settled?" said Sir Charles. + +"Of course you may," said Jane contemptuously. + +"Pray allow Miss Wylie to speak for herself, Jane. I confess I do +not understand why you are still in doubt--if you have really engaged +yourself to him." + +"I suppose I am in for it," said Agatha. "I feel as if there were some +fatal objection, if I could only remember what it is. I wish I had never +seen him." + +Sir Charles was puzzled. "I do not understand ladies' ways in these +matters," he said. "However, as there seems to be no doubt that you and +Trefusis are engaged, I shall of course say nothing that would make it +unpleasant for him to visit here; but I must say that he has--to say +the least--been inconsiderate to me personally. I signed a paper at his +house on the implicit understanding that it was strictly private, +and now he has trumpeted it forth to the whole world, and publicly +associated my name not only with his own, but with those of persons of +whom I know nothing except that I would rather not be connected with +them in any way." + +"What does it matter?" said Jane. "Nobody cares twopence." + +"_I_ care," said Sir Charles angrily. "No sensible person can accuse +me of exaggerating my own importance because I value my reputation +sufficiently to object to my approval being publicly cited in support of +a cause with which I have no sympathy." + +"Perhaps Mr. Trefusis has had nothing to do with it," said Agatha. "The +papers publish whatever they please, don't they?" + +"That's right, Agatha," said Jane maliciously. "Don't let anyone speak +ill of him." + +"I am not speaking ill of him," said Sir Charles, before Agatha could +retort. "It is a mere matter of feeling, and I should not have mentioned +it had I known the altered relations between him and Miss Wylie." + +"Pray don't speak of them," said Agatha. "I have a mind to run away by +the next train." + +Sir Charles, to change the subject, suggested a duet. + +Meanwhile Erskine, returning through the village from his morning ride, +had met Trefusis, and attempted to pass him with a nod. But Trefusis +called to him to stop, and he dismounted reluctantly. + +"Just a word to say that I am going to be married," said Trefusis. + +"To--?" Erskine could not add Gertrude's name. + +"To one of our friends at the Beeches. Guess to which." + +"To Miss Lindsay, I presume." + +"What in the fiend's name has put it into all your heads that Miss +Lindsay and I are particularly attached to one another?" exclaimed +Trefusis. "YOU have always appeared to me to be the man for Miss +Lindsay. I am going to marry Miss Wylie." + +"Really!" exclaimed Erskine, with a sensation of suddenly thawing after +a bitter frost. + +"Of course. And now, Erskine, you have the advantage of being a poor +man. Do not let that splendid girl marry for money. If you go further +you are likely to fare worse; and so is she." Then he nodded and walked +away, leaving the other staring after him. + +"If he has jilted her, he is a scoundrel," said Erskine. "I am sorry I +didn't tell him so." + +He mounted and rode slowly along the Riverside Road, partly suspecting +Trefusis of some mystification, but inclining to believe in him, and, +in any case, to take his advice as to Gertrude. The conversation he had +overheard in the avenue still perplexed him. He could not reconcile it +with Trefusis's profession of disinterestedness towards her. + +His bicycle carried him noiselessly on its india-rubber tires to the +place by which the hemlock grew and there he saw Gertrude sitting on the +low earthen wall that separated the field from the road. Her straw bag, +with her scissors in it, lay beside her. Her fingers were interlaced, +and her hands rested, palms downwards, on her knee. Her expression was +rather vacant, and so little suggestive of any serious emotion that +Erskine laughed as he alighted close to her. + +"Are you tired?" he said. + +"No," she replied, not startled, and smiling mechanically--an unusual +condescension on her part. + +"Indulging in a day-dream?" + +"No." She moved a little to one side and concealed the basket with her +dress. + +He began to fear that something was wrong. "Is it possible that you have +ventured among those poisonous plants again?" he said. "Are you ill?" + +"Not at all," she replied, rousing herself a little. "Your solicitude is +quite thrown away. I am perfectly well." + +"I beg your pardon," he said, snubbed. "I thought--Don't you think it +dangerous to sit on that damp wall?" + +"It is not damp. It is crumbling into dust with dryness." An unnatural +laugh, with which she concluded, intensified his uneasiness. + +He began a sentence, stopped, and to gain time to recover himself, +placed his bicycle in the opposite ditch; a proceeding which she +witnessed with impatience, as it indicated his intention to stay and +talk. She, however, was the first to speak; and she did so with a +callousness that shocked him. + +"Have you heard the news?" + +"What news?" + +"About Mr. Trefusis and Agatha. They are engaged." + +"So Trefusis told me. I met him just now in the village. I was very glad +to hear it." + +"Of course." + +"But I had a special reason for being glad." + +"Indeed?" + +"I was desperately afraid, before he told me the truth, that he had +other views--views that might have proved fatal to my dearest hopes." + +Gertrude frowned at him, and the frown roused him to brave her. He lost +his self-command, already shaken by her strange behavior. "You know that +I love you, Miss Lindsay," he said. "It may not be a perfect love, but, +humanly speaking, it is a true one. I almost told you so that day when +we were in the billiard room together; and I did a very dishonorable +thing the same evening. When you were speaking to Trefusis in the avenue +I was close to you, and I listened." + +"Then you heard him," cried Gertrude vehemently. "You heard him swear +that he was in earnest." + +"Yes," said Erskine, trembling, "and I thought he meant in earnest in +loving you. You can hardly blame me for that: I was in love myself; and +love is blind and jealous. I never hoped again until he told me that he +was to be married to Miss Wylie. May I speak to you, now that I know I +was mistaken, or that you have changed your mind?" + +"Or that he has changed his mind," said Gertrude scornfully. + +Erskine, with a new anxiety for her sake, checked himself. Her dignity +was dear to him, and he saw that her disappointment had made her +reckless of it. "Do not say anything to me now, Miss Lindsay, lest--" + +"What have I said? What have I to say?" + +"Nothing, except on my own affairs. I love you dearly." + +She made an impatient movement, as if that were a very insignificant +matter. + +"You believe me, I hope," he said, timidly. + +Gertrude made an effort to recover her habitual ladylike reserve, but +her energy failed before she had done more than raise her head. She +relapsed into her listless attitude, and made a faint gesture of +intolerance. + +"You cannot be quite indifferent to being loved," he said, becoming more +nervous and more urgent. "Your existence constitutes all my happiness. +I offer you my services and devotion. I do not ask any reward." (He was +now speaking very quickly and almost inaudibly.) "You may accept my love +without returning it. I do not want--seek to make a bargain. If you need +a friend you may be able to rely on me more confidently because you know +I love you." + +"Oh, you think so," said Gertrude, interrupting him; "but you will get +over it. I am not the sort of person that men fall in love with. You +will soon change your mind." + +"Not the sort! Oh, how little you know!" he said, becoming eloquent. +"I have had plenty of time to change, but I am as fixed as ever. If you +doubt, wait and try me. But do not be rough with me. You pain me +more than you can imagine when you are hasty or indifferent. I am in +earnest." + +"Ha, ha! That is easily said." + +"Not by me. I change in my judgment of other people according to my +humor, but I believe steadfastly in your goodness and beauty--as if you +were an angel. I am in earnest in my love for you as I am in earnest for +my own life, which can only be perfected by your aid and influence." + +"You are greatly mistaken if you suppose that I am an angel." + +"You are wrong to mistrust yourself; but it is what I owe to you and not +what I expect from you that I try to express by speaking of you as an +angel. I know that you are not an angel to yourself. But you are to me." + +She sat stubbornly silent. + +"I will not press you for an answer now. I am content that you know my +mind at last. Shall we return together?" + +She looked round slowly at the hemlock, and from that to the river. +Then she took up her basket, rose, and prepared to go, as if under +compulsion. + +"Do you want any more hemlock?" he said. "If so, I will pluck some for +you." + +"I wish you would let me alone," she said, with sudden anger. She added, +a little ashamed of herself, "I have a headache." + +"I am very sorry," he said, crestfallen. + +"It is only that I do not wish to be spoken to. It hurts my head to +listen." + +He meekly took his bicycle from the ditch and wheeled it along beside +her to the Beeches without another word. They went in through the +conservatory, and parted in the dining-room. Before leaving him she said +with some remorse, "I did not mean to be rude, Mr. Erskine." + +He flushed, murmured something, and attempted to kiss her hand. But she +snatched it away and went out quickly. He was stung by this repulse, and +stood mortifying himself by thinking of it until he was disturbed by the +entrance of a maid-servant. Learning from her that Sir Charles was in +the billiard room, he joined him there, and asked him carelessly if he +had heard the news. + +"About Miss Wylie?" said Sir Charles. "Yes, I should think so. I believe +the whole country knows it, though they have not been engaged three +hours. Have you seen these?" And he pushed a couple of newspapers across +the table. + +Erskine had to make several efforts before he could read. "You were a +fool to sign that document," he said. "I told you so at the time." + +"I relied on the fellow being a gentleman," said Sir Charles warmly. +"I do not see that I was a fool. I see that he is a cad, and but for +this business of Miss Wylie's I would let him know my opinion. Let me +tell you, Chester, that he has played fast and loose with Miss Lindsay. +There is a deuce of a row upstairs. She has just told Jane that she must +go home at once; Miss Wylie declares that she will have nothing to do +with Trefusis if Miss Lindsay has a prior claim to him, and Jane is +annoyed at his admiring anybody except herself. It serves me right; my +instinct warned me against the fellow from the first." Just then +luncheon was announced. Gertrude did not come down. Agatha was silent +and moody. Jane tried to make Erskine describe his walk with Gertrude, +but he baffled her curiosity by omitting from his account everything +except its commonplaces. + +"I think her conduct very strange," said Jane. "She insists on going to +town by the four o'clock train. I consider that it's not polite to me, +although she always made a point of her perfect manners. I never heard +of such a thing!" + +When they had risen from the table, they went together to the +drawing-room. They had hardly arrived there when Trefusis was announced, +and he was in their presence before they had time to conceal the +expression of consternation his name brought into their faces. + +"I have come to say good-bye," he said. "I find that I must go to +town by the four o'clock train to push my arrangements in person; the +telegrams I have received breathe nothing but delay. Have you seen the +'Times'?" + +"I have indeed," said Sir Charles, emphatically. + +"You are in some other paper too, and will be in half-a-dozen more in +the course of the next fortnight. Men who have committed themselves to +an opinion are always in trouble with the newspapers; some because they +cannot get into them, others because they cannot keep out. If you had +put forward a thundering revolutionary manifesto, not a daily paper +would have dared allude to it: there is no cowardice like Fleet Street +cowardice! I must run off; I have much to do before I start, and it is +getting on for three. Good-bye, Lady Brandon, and everybody." + +He shook Jane's hand, dealt nods to the rest rapidly, making no +distinction in favor of Agatha, and hurried away. They stared after him +for a moment and then Erskine ran out and went downstairs two steps at a +time. Nevertheless he had to run as far as the avenue before he overtook +his man. + +"Trefusis," he said breathlessly, "you must not go by the four o'clock +train." + +"Why not?" + +"Miss Lindsay is going to town by it." + +"So much the better, my dear boy; so much the better. You are not +jealous of me now, are you?" + +"Look here, Trefusis. I don't know and I don't ask what there has been +between you and Miss Lindsay, but your engagement has quite upset her, +and she is running away to London in consequence. If she hears that you +are going by the same train she will wait until to-morrow, and I believe +the delay would be very disagreeable. Will you inflict that additional +pain upon her?" + +Trefusis, evidently concerned, looking doubtfully at Erskine, and +pondered for a moment. "I think you are on a wrong scent about this," +he said. "My relations with Miss Lindsay were not of a sentimental kind. +Have you said anything to her--on your own account, I mean?" + +"I have spoken to her on both accounts, and I know from her own lips +that I am right." + +Trefusis uttered a low whistle. + +"It is not the first time I have had the evidence of my senses in the +matter," said Erskine significantly. "Pray think of it seriously, +Trefusis. Forgive my telling you frankly that nothing but your own utter +want of feeling could excuse you for the way in which you have acted +towards her." + +Trefusis smiled. "Forgive me in turn for my inquisitiveness," he said. +"What does she say to your suit?" + +Erskine hesitated, showing by his manner that he thought Trefusis had no +right to ask the question. "She says nothing," he answered. + +"Hm!" said Trefusis. "Well, you may rely on me as to the train. There is +my hand upon it." + +"Thank you," said Erskine fervently. They shook hands and parted, +Trefusis walking away with a grin suggestive of anything but good faith. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +Gertrude, unaware of the extent to which she had already betrayed her +disappointment, believed that anxiety for her father's health, which she +alleged as the motive of her sudden departure, was an excuse plausible +enough to blind her friends to her overpowering reluctance to speak to +Agatha or endure her presence; to her fierce shrinking from the sort of +pity usually accorded to a jilted woman; and, above all, to her dread +of meeting Trefusis. She had for some time past thought of him as an +upright and perfect man deeply interested in her. Yet, comparatively +liberal as her education had been, she had no idea of any interest +of man in woman existing apart from a desire to marry. He had, in his +serious moments, striven to make her sensible of the baseness he saw in +her worldliness, flattering her by his apparent conviction--which +she shared--that she was capable of a higher life. Almost in the same +breath, a strain of gallantry which was incorrigible in him, and to +which his humor and his tenderness to women whom he liked gave variety +and charm, would supervene upon his seriousness with a rapidity which +her far less flexible temperament could not follow. Hence she, thinking +him still in earnest when he had swerved into florid romance, had been +dangerously misled. He had no conscientious scruples in his love-making, +because he was unaccustomed to consider himself as likely to inspire +love in women; and Gertrude did not know that her beauty gave to an hour +spent alone with her a transient charm which few men of imagination and +address could resist. She, who had lived in the marriage market since +she had left school, looked upon love-making as the most serious +business of life. To him it was only a pleasant sort of trifling, +enhanced by a dash of sadness in the reflection that it meant so little. + +Of the ceremonies attending her departure, the one that cost her most +was the kiss she felt bound to offer Agatha. She had been jealous of her +at college, where she had esteemed herself the better bred of the two; +but that opinion had hardly consoled her for Agatha's superior quickness +of wit, dexterity of hand, audacity, aptness of resource, capacity for +forming or following intricate associations of ideas, and consequent +power to dazzle others. Her jealousy of these qualities was now barbed +by the knowledge that they were much nearer akin than her own to those +of Trefusis. It mattered little to her how she appeared to herself in +comparison with Agatha. But it mattered the whole world (she thought) +that she must appear to Trefusis so slow, stiff, cold, and studied, and +that she had no means to make him understand that she was not really so. +For she would not admit the justice of impressions made by what she did +not intend to do, however habitually she did it. She had a theory that +she was not herself, but what she would have liked to be. As to the one +quality in which she had always felt superior to Agatha, and which she +called "good breeding," Trefusis had so far destroyed her conceit in +that, that she was beginning to doubt whether it was not her cardinal +defect. + +She could not bring herself to utter a word as she embraced her +schoolfellow; and Agatha was tongue-tied too. But there was much +remorseful tenderness in the feelings that choked them. Their silence +would have been awkward but for the loquacity of Jane, who talked enough +for all three. Sir Charles was without, in the trap, waiting to drive +Gertrude to the station. Erskine intercepted her in the hall as she +passed out, told her that he should be desolate when she was gone, and +begged her to remember him, a simple petition which moved her a little, +and caused her to note that his dark eyes had a pleading eloquence which +she had observed before in the kangaroos at the Zoological Society's +gardens. + +On the way to the train Sir Charles worried the horse in order to be +excused from conversation on the sore subject of his guest's sudden +departure. He had made a few remarks on the skittishness of young +ponies, and on the weather, and that was all until they reached the +station, a pretty building standing in the open country, with a view of +the river from the platform. There were two flies waiting, two porters, +a bookstall, and a refreshment room with a neglected beauty pining +behind the bar. Sir Charles waited in the booking office to purchase a +ticket for Gertrude, who went through to the platform. The first person +she saw there was Trefusis, close beside her. + +"I am going to town by this train, Gertrude," he said quickly. "Let +me take charge of you. I have something to say, for I hear that some +mischief has been made between us which must be stopped at once. You--" + +Just then Sir Charles came out, and stood amazed to see them in +conversation. + +"It happens that I am going by this train," said Trefusis. "I will see +after Miss Lindsay." + +"Miss Lindsay has her maid with her," said Sir Charles, almost +stammering, and looking at Gertrude, whose expression was inscrutable. + +"We can get into the Pullman car," said Trefusis. "There we shall be as +private as in a corner of a crowded drawing-room. I may travel with you, +may I not?" he said, seeing Sir Charles's disturbed look, and turning to +her for express permission. + +She felt that to deny him would be to throw away her last chance of +happiness. Nevertheless she resolved to do it, though she should die +of grief on the way to London. As she raised her head to forbid him the +more emphatically, she met his gaze, which was grave and expectant. For +an instant she lost her presence of mind, and in that instant said, +"Yes. I shall be very glad." + +"Well, if that is the case," said Sir Charles, in the tone of one whose +sympathy had been alienated by an unpardonable outrage, "there can +be no use in my waiting. I leave you in the hands of Mr. Trefusis. +Good-bye, Miss Lindsay." + +Gertrude winced. Unkindness from a man usually kind proved hard to bear +at parting. She was offering him her hand in silence when Trefusis said: + +"Wait and see us off. If we chance to be killed on the journey--which +is always probable on an English railway--you will reproach yourself +afterwards if you do not see the last of us. Here is the train; it will +not delay you a minute. Tell Erskine that you saw me here; that I have +not forgotten my promise, and that he may rely on me. Get in at this +end, Miss Lindsay." + +"My maid," said Gertrude hesitating; for she had not intended to travel +so expensively. "She--" + +"She comes with us to take care of me; I have tickets for everybody," +said Trefusis, handing the woman in. + +"But--" + +"Take your seats, please," said the guard. "Going by the train, sir?" + +"Good-bye, Sir Charles. Give my love to Lady Brandon, and Agatha, and +the dear children; and thanks so much for a very pleasant--" Here the +train moved off, and Sir Charles, melting, smiled and waved his hat +until he caught sight of Trefusis looking back at him with a grin which +seemed, under the circumstances, so Satanic, that he stopped as if +petrified in the midst of his gesticulations, and stood with his arm out +like a semaphore. + +The drive home restored him somewhat, but he was still full of +his surprise when he rejoined Agatha, his wife, and Erskine in the +drawing-room at the Beeches. The moment he entered, he said without +preface, "She has gone off with Trefusis." + +Erskine, who had been reading, started up, clutching his book as if +about to hurl it at someone, and cried, "Was he at the train?" + +"Yes, and has gone to town by it." + +"Then," said Erskine, flinging the book violently on the floor, "he is a +scoundrel and a liar." + +"What is the matter?" said Agatha rising, whilst Jane stared +open-mouthed at him. + +"I beg your pardon, Miss Wylie, I forgot you. He pledged me his honor +that he would not go by that train. I will." He hurried from the room. +Sir Charles rushed after him, and overtook him at the foot of the +stairs. + +"Where are you going? What do you want to do?" + +"I will follow the train and catch it at the next station. I can do it +on my bicycle." + +"Nonsense! you're mad. They have thirty-five minutes start; and the +train travels forty-five miles an hour." + +Erskine sat down on the stairs and gazed blankly at the opposite wall. + +"You must have mistaken him," said Sir Charles. "He told me to tell you +that he had not forgotten his promise, and that you may rely on him." + +"What is the matter?" said Agatha, coming down, followed by Lady +Brandon. + +"Miss Wylie," said Erskine, springing up, "he gave me his word that he +would not go by that train when I told him Miss Lindsay was going by +it. He has broken his word and seized the opportunity I was mad and +credulous enough to tell him of. If I had been in your place, Brandon, I +would have strangled him or thrown him under the wheels sooner than let +him go. He has shown himself in this as in everything else, a cheat, a +conspirator, a man of crooked ways, shifts, tricks, lying sophistries, +heartless selfishness, cruel cynicism--" He stopped to catch his breath, +and Sir Charles interposed a remonstrance. + +"You are exciting yourself about nothing, Chester. They are in a +Pullman, with her maid and plenty of people; and she expressly gave him +leave to go with her. He asked her the question flatly before my face, +and I must say I thought it a strange thing for her to consent to. +However, she did consent, and of course I was not in a position to +prevent him from going to London if he pleased. Don't let us have a +scene, old man. It can't be helped." + +"I am very sorry," said Erskine, hanging his head. "I did not mean to +make a scene. I beg your pardon." + +He went away to his room without another word. Sir Charles followed and +attempted to console him, but Erskine caught his hand, and asked to be +left to himself. So Sir Charles returned to the drawing-room, where his +wife, at a loss for once, hardly ventured to remark that she had never +heard of such a thing in her life. + +Agatha kept silence. She had long ago come unconsciously to the +conclusion that Trefusis and she were the only members of the party at +the Beeches who had much common-sense, and this made her slow to +believe that he could be in the wrong and Erskine in the right in any +misunderstanding between them. She had a slovenly way of summing up +as "asses" people whose habits of thought differed from hers. Of all +varieties of man, the minor poet realized her conception of the human +ass most completely, and Erskine, though a very nice fellow indeed, +thoroughly good and gentlemanly, in her opinion, was yet a minor poet, +and therefore a pronounced ass. Trefusis, on the contrary, was the last +man of her acquaintance whom she would have thought of as a very nice +fellow or a virtuous gentleman; but he was not an ass, although he +was obstinate in his Socialistic fads. She had indeed suspected him of +weakness almost asinine with respect to Gertrude, but then all men were +asses in their dealings with women, and since he had transferred his +weakness to her own account it no longer seemed to need justification. +And now, as her concern for Erskine, whom she pitied, wore off, she +began to resent Trefusis's journey with Gertrude as an attack on her +recently acquired monopoly of him. There was an air of aristocratic +pride about Gertrude which Agatha had formerly envied, and which +she still feared Trefusis might mistake for an index of dignity and +refinement. Agatha did not believe that her resentment was the common +feeling called jealousy, for she still deemed herself unique, but it +gave her a sense of meanness that did not improve her spirits. + +The dinner was dull. Lady Brandon spoke in an undertone, as if someone +lay dead in the next room. Erskine was depressed by the consciousness of +having lost his head and acted foolishly in the afternoon. Sir Charles +did not pretend to ignore the suspense they were all in pending +intelligence of the journey to London; he ate and drank and said +nothing. Agatha, disgusted with herself and with Gertrude, and undecided +whether to be disgusted with Trefusis or to trust him affectionately, +followed the example of her host. After dinner she accompanied him in +a series of songs by Schubert. This proved an aggravation instead of +a relief. Sir Charles, excelling in the expression of melancholy, +preferred songs of that character; and as his musical ideas, like those +of most Englishmen, were founded on what he had heard in church in his +childhood, his style was oppressively monotonous. Agatha took the first +excuse that presented itself to leave the piano. Sir Charles felt that +his performance had been a failure, and remarked, after a cough or two, +that he had caught a touch of cold returning from the station. Erskine +sat on a sofa with his head drooping, and his palms joined and hanging +downward between his knees. Agatha stood at the window, looking at the +late summer afterglow. Jane yawned, and presently broke the silence. + +"You look exactly as you used at school, Agatha. I could almost fancy us +back again in Number Six." + +Agatha shook her head. + +"Do I ever look like that--like myself, as I used to be?" + +"Never," said Agatha emphatically, turning and surveying the figure of +which Miss Carpenter had been the unripe antecedent. + +"But why?" said Jane querulously. "I don't see why I shouldn't. I am not +so changed." + +"You have become an exceedingly fine woman, Jane," said Agatha gravely, +and then, without knowing why, turned her attentive gaze upon Sir +Charles, who bore it uneasily, and left the room. A minute later he +returned with two buff envelopes in his hand. + +"A telegram for you, Miss Wylie, and one for Chester." Erskine started +up, white with vague fears. Agatha's color went, and came again with +increased richness as she read: + +"I have arrived safe and ridiculously happy. Read a thousand things +between the lines. I will write tomorrow. Good night." + +"You may read it," said Agatha, handing it to Jane. + +"Very pretty," said Jane. "A shilling's worth of attention--exactly +twenty words! He may well call himself an economist." + +Suddenly a crowing laugh from Erskine caused them to turn and stare at +him. "What nonsense!" he said, blushing. "What a fellow he is! I don't +attach the slightest importance to this." + +Agatha took a corner of his telegram and pulled it gently. + +"No, no," he said, holding it tightly. "It is too absurd. I don't think +I ought--" + +Agatha gave a decisive pull, and read the message aloud. It was from +Trefusis, thus: + +"I forgive your thoughts since Brandon's return. Write her to-night, +and follow your letter to receive an affirmative answer in person. I +promised that you might rely on me. She loves you." + +"I never heard of such a thing in my life," said Jane. "Never!" + +"He is certainly a most unaccountable man," said Sir Charles. + +"I am glad, for my own sake, that he is not so black as he is painted," +said Agatha. "You may believe every word of it, Mr. Erskine. Be sure to +do as he tells you. He is quite certain to be right." + +"Pooh!" said Erskine, crumpling the telegram and thrusting it into his +pocket as if it were not worth a second thought. Presently he slipped +away, and did not reappear. When they were about to retire, Sir Charles +asked a servant where he was. + +"In the library, Sir Charles; writing." + +They looked significantly at one another and went to bed without +disturbing him. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +When Gertrude found herself beside Trefusis in the Pullman, she wondered +how she came to be travelling with him against her resolution, if not +against her will. In the presence of two women scrutinizing her as if +they suspected her of being there with no good purpose, a male +passenger admiring her a little further off, her maid reading Trefusis's +newspapers just out of earshot, an uninterested country gentleman +looking glumly out of window, a city man preoccupied with the +"Economist," and a polite lady who refrained from staring but not from +observing, she felt that she must not make a scene; yet she knew he had +not come there to hold an ordinary conversation. Her doubt did not last +long. He began promptly, and went to the point at once. + +"What do you think of this engagement of mine?" + +This was more than she could bear calmly. "What is it to me?" she said +indignantly. "I have nothing to do with it." + +"Nothing! You are a cold friend to me then. I thought you one of the +surest I possessed." + +She moved as if about to look at him, but checked herself, closed her +lips, and fixed her eyes on the vacant seat before her. The reproach he +deserved was beyond her power of expression. + +"I cling to that conviction still, in spite of Miss Lindsay's +indifference to my affairs. But I confess I hardly know how to bring you +into sympathy with me in this matter. In the first place, you have never +been married, I have. In the next, you are much younger than I, in more +respects than that of years. Very likely half your ideas on the subject +are derived from fictions in which happy results are tacked on to +conditions very ill-calculated to produce them--which in real life +hardly ever do produce them. If our friendship were a chapter in a +novel, what would be the upshot of it? Why, I should marry you, or you +break your heart at my treachery." + +Gertrude moved her eyes as if she had some intention of taking to +flight. + +"But our relations being those of real life--far sweeter, after all--I +never dreamed of marrying you, having gained and enjoyed your friendship +without that eye to business which our nineteenth century keeps open +even whilst it sleeps. You, being equally disinterested in your regard +for me, do not think of breaking your heart, but you are, I suppose, a +little hurt at my apparently meditating and resolving on such a serious +step as marriage with Agatha without confiding my intention to you. And +you punish me by telling me that you have nothing to do with it--that it +is nothing to you. But I never meditated the step, and so had nothing to +conceal from you. It was conceived and executed in less than a minute. +Although my first marriage was a silly love match and a failure, I have +always admitted to myself that I should marry again. A bachelor is a man +who shirks responsibilities and duties; I seek them, and consider it +my duty, with my monstrous superfluity of means, not to let the +individualists outbreed me. Still, I was in no hurry, having other +things to occupy me, and being fond of my bachelor freedom, and doubtful +sometimes whether I had any right to bring more idlers into the world +for the workers to feed. Then came the usual difficulty about the lady. +I did not want a helpmeet; I can help myself. Nor did I expect to be +loved devotedly, for the race has not yet evolved a man lovable on +thorough acquaintance; even my self-love is neither thorough nor +constant. I wanted a genial partner for domestic business, and Agatha +struck me quite suddenly as being the nearest approach to what I desired +that I was likely to find in the marriage market, where it is extremely +hard to suit oneself, and where the likeliest bargains are apt to be +snapped up by others if one hesitates too long in the hope of finding +something better. I admire Agatha's courage and capability, and believe +I shall be able to make her like me, and that the attachment so begun +may turn into as close a union as is either healthy or necessary between +two separate individuals. I may mistake her character, for I do not know +her as I know you, and have scarcely enough faith in her as yet to tell +her such things as I have told you. Still, there is a consoling dash of +romance in the transaction. Agatha has charm. Do you not think so?" + +Gertrude's emotion was gone. She replied with cool scorn, "Very romantic +indeed. She is very fortunate." + +Trefusis half laughed, half sighed with relief to find her so +self-possessed. "It sounds like--and indeed is--the selfish calculation +of a disilluded widower. You would not value such an offer, or envy the +recipient of it?" + +"No," said Gertrude with quiet contempt. + +"Yet there is some calculation behind every such offer. We marry to +satisfy our needs, and the more reasonable our needs are, the more +likely are we to get them satisfied. I see you are disgusted with me; +I feared as much. You are the sort of woman to admit no excuse for my +marriage except love--pure emotional love, blindfolding reason." + +"I really do not concern myself--" + +"Do not say so, Gertrude. I watch every step you take with anxiety; and +I do not believe you are indifferent to the worthiness of my conduct. +Believe me, love is an overrated passion; it would be irremediably +discredited but that young people, and the romancers who live upon their +follies, have a perpetual interest in rehabilitating it. No relation +involving divided duties and continual intercourse between two people +can subsist permanently on love alone. Yet love is not to be despised +when it comes from a fine nature. There is a man who loves you exactly +as you think I ought to love Agatha--and as I don't love her." + +Gertrude's emotion stirred again, and her color rose. "You have no right +to say these things now," she said. + +"Why may I not plead the cause of another? I speak of Erskine." Her +color vanished, and he continued, "I want you to marry him. When you are +married you will understand me better, and our friendship, shaken just +now, will be deepened; for I dare assure you, now that you can no longer +misunderstand me, that no living woman is dearer to me than you. So much +for the inevitable selfish reason. Erskine is a poor man, and in +his comfortable poverty--save the mark--lies your salvation from the +baseness of marrying for wealth and position; a baseness of which women +of your class stand in constant peril. They court it; you must shun it. +The man is honorable and loves you; he is young, healthy, and suitable. +What more do you think the world has to offer you?" + +"Much more, I hope. Very much more." + +"I fear that the names I give things are not romantic enough. He is a +poet. Perhaps he would be a hero if it were possible for a man to be a +hero in this nineteenth century, which will be infamous in history as +a time when the greatest advances in the power of man over nature only +served to sharpen his greed and make famine its avowed minister. Erskine +is at least neither a gambler nor a slave-driver at first hand; if he +lives upon plundered labor he can no more help himself than I. Do not +say that you hope for much more; but tell me, if you can, what more you +have any chance of getting? Mind, I do not ask what more you desire; we +all desire unutterable things. I ask you what more you can obtain!" + +"I have not found Mr. Erskine such a wonderful person as you seem to +think him." + +"He is only a man. Do you know anybody more wonderful?" + +"Besides, my family might not approve." + +"They most certainly will not. If you wish to please them, you must sell +yourself to some rich vampire of the factories or great landlord. If you +give yourself away to a poor poet who loves you, their disgust will be +unbounded. If a woman wishes to honor her father and mother to their own +satisfaction nowadays she must dishonor herself." + +"I do not understand why you should be so anxious for me to marry +someone else?" + +"Someone else?" said Trefusis, puzzled. + +"I do not mean someone else," said Gertrude hastily, reddening. "Why +should I marry at all?" + +"Why do any of us marry? Why do I marry? It is a function craving +fulfilment. If you do not marry betimes from choice, you will be driven +to do so later on by the importunity of your suitors and of your family, +and by weariness of the suspense that precedes a definite settlement of +oneself. Marry generously. Do not throw yourself away or sell yourself; +give yourself away. Erskine has as much at stake as you; and yet he +offers himself fearlessly." + +Gertrude raised her head proudly. + +"It is true," continued Trefusis, observing the gesture with some anger, +"that he thinks more highly of you than you deserve; but you, on the +other hand, think too lowly of him. When you marry him you must save him +from a cruel disenchantment by raising yourself to the level he fancies +you have attained. This will cost you an effort, and the effort will do +you good, whether it fail or succeed. As for him, he will find his +just level in your estimation if your thoughts reach high enough to +comprehend him at that level." + +Gertrude moved impatiently. + +"What!" he said quickly. "Are my long-winded sacrifices to the god of +reason distasteful? I believe I am involuntarily making them so because +I am jealous of the fellow after all. Nevertheless I am serious; I want +you to get married; though I shall always have a secret grudge against +the man who marries you. Agatha will suspect me of treason if you don't. +Erskine will be a disappointed man if you don't. You will be moody, +wretched, and--and unmarried if you don't." + +Gertrude's cheeks flushed at the word jealous, and again at his mention +of Agatha. "And if I do," she said bitterly, "what then?" + +"If you do, Agatha's mind will be at ease, Erskine will be happy, and +you! You will have sacrificed yourself, and will have the happiness +which follows that when it is worthily done." + +"It is you who have sacrificed me," she said, casting away her +reticence, and looking at him for the first time during the +conversation. + +"I know it," he said, leaning towards her and half whispering the +words. "Is not renunciation the beginning and the end of wisdom? I have +sacrificed you rather than profane our friendship by asking you to share +my whole life with me. You are unfit for that, and I have committed +myself to another union, and am begging you to follow my example, lest +we should tempt one another to a step which would soon prove to you how +truly I tell you that you are unfit. I have never allowed you to roam +through all the chambers of my consciousness, but I keep a sanctuary +there for you alone, and will keep it inviolate for you always. Not even +Agatha shall have the key, she must be content with the other rooms--the +drawing-room, the working-room, the dining-room, and so forth. They +would not suit you; you would not like the furniture or the guests; +after a time you would not like the master. Will you be content with the +sanctuary?" Gertrude bit her lip; tears came into her eyes. She looked +imploringly at him. Had they been alone, she would have thrown herself +into his arms and entreated him to disregard everything except their +strong cleaving to one another. + +"And will you keep a corner of your heart for me?" + +She slowly gave him a painful look of acquiescence. "Will you be brave, +and sacrifice yourself to the poor man who loves you? He will save you +from useless solitude, or from a worldly marriage--I cannot bear to +think of either as your fate." + +"I do not care for Mr. Erskine," she said, hardly able to control her +voice; "but I will marry him if you wish it." + +"I do wish it earnestly, Gertrude." + +"Then, you have my promise," she said, again with some bitterness. + +"But you will not forget me? Erskine will have all but that--a tender +recollection--nothing." + +"Can I do more than I have just promised?" + +"Perhaps so; but I am too selfish to be able to conceive anything more +generous. Our renunciation will bind us to one another as our union +could never have done." + +They exchanged a long look. Then he took out his watch, and began to +speak of the length of their journey, now nearly at an end. When they +arrived in London the first person they recognized on the platform was +Mr. Jansenius. + +"Ah! you got my telegram, I see," said Trefusis. "Many thanks for +coming. Wait for me whilst I put this lady into a cab." + +When the cab was engaged, and Gertrude, with her maid, stowed within, he +whispered to her hurriedly: + +"In spite of all, I have a leaden pain here" (indicating his heart). +"You have been brave, and I have been wise. Do not speak to me, but +remember that we are friends always and deeply." + +He touched her hand, and turned to the cabman, directing him whither to +drive. Gertrude shrank back into a corner of the vehicle as it departed. +Then Trefusis, expanding his chest like a man just released from some +cramping drudgery, rejoined Mr. Jansenius. + +"There goes a true woman," he said. "I have been persuading her to take +the very best step open to her. I began by talking sense, like a man of +honor, and kept at it for half an hour, but she would not listen to me. +Then I talked romantic nonsense of the cheapest sort for five minutes, +and she consented with tears in her eyes. Let us take this hansom. Hi! +Belsize Avenue. Yes; you sometimes have to answer a woman according to +her womanishness, just as you have to answer a fool according to his +folly. Have you ever made up your mind, Jansenius, whether I am an +unusually honest man, or one of the worst products of the social +organization I spend all my energies in assailing--an infernal +scoundrel, in short?" + +"Now pray do not be absurd," said Mr. Jansenius. "I wonder at a man of +your ability behaving and speaking as you sometimes do." + +"I hope a little insincerity, when meant to act as chloroform--to save +a woman from feeling a wound to her vanity--is excusable. By-the-bye, +I must send a couple of telegrams from the first post-office we pass. +Well, sir, I am going to marry Agatha, as I sent you word. There was +only one other single man and one other virgin down at Brandon Beeches, +and they are as good as engaged. And so-- + +"'Jack shall have Jill, Nought shall go ill, The man shall have his mare +again; And all shall be well.'" + + + +APPENDIX + + + +LETTER TO THE AUTHOR FROM MR. SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + +My Dear Sir: I find that my friends are not quite satisfied with the +account you have given of them in your clever novel entitled "An +Unsocial Socialist." You already understand that I consider it my duty +to communicate my whole history, without reserve, to whoever may desire +to be guided or warned by my experience, and that I have no sympathy +whatever with the spirit in which one of the ladies concerned recently +told you that her affairs were no business of yours or of the people who +read your books. When you asked my permission some years ago to make +use of my story, I at once said that you would be perfectly justified +in giving it the fullest publicity whether I consented or not, provided +only that you were careful not to falsify it for the sake of artistic +effect. Now, whilst cheerfully admitting that you have done your best +to fulfil that condition, I cannot help feeling that, in presenting the +facts in the guise of fiction, you have, in spite of yourself, shown +them in a false light. Actions described in novels are judged by a +romantic system of morals as fictitious as the actions themselves. The +traditional parts of this system are, as Cervantes tried to show, for +the chief part, barbarous and obsolete; the modern additions are largely +due to the novel readers and writers of our own century--most of them +half-educated women, rebelliously slavish, superstitious, sentimental, +full of the intense egotism fostered by their struggle for personal +liberty, and, outside their families, with absolutely no social +sentiment except love. Meanwhile, man, having fought and won his fight +for this personal liberty, only to find himself a more abject slave +than before, is turning with loathing from his egotist's dream of +independence to the collective interests of society, with the welfare +of which he now perceives his own happiness to be inextricably bound +up. But man in this phase (would that all had reached it!) has not yet +leisure to write or read novels. In noveldom woman still sets the moral +standard, and to her the males, who are in full revolt against the +acceptance of the infatuation of a pair of lovers as the highest +manifestation of the social instinct, and against the restriction of the +affections within the narrow circle of blood relationship, and of +the political sympathies within frontiers, are to her what she calls +heartless brutes. That is exactly what I have been called by readers +of your novel; and that, indeed, is exactly what I am, judged by the +fictitious and feminine standard of morality. Hence some critics +have been able plausibly to pretend to take the book as a satire on +Socialism. It may, for what I know, have been so intended by you. +Whether or no, I am sorry you made a novel of my story, for the effect +has been almost as if you had misrepresented me from beginning to end. + +At the same time, I acknowledge that you have stated the facts, on the +whole, with scrupulous fairness. You have, indeed, flattered me very +strongly by representing me as constantly thinking of and for other +people, whereas the rest think of themselves alone, but on the other +hand you have contradictorily called me "unsocial," which is certainly +the last adjective I should have expected to find in the neighborhood +of my name. I deny, it is true, that what is now called "society" +is society in any real sense, and my best wish for it is that it may +dissolve too rapidly to make it worth the while of those who are "not +in society" to facilitate its dissolution by violently pounding it into +small pieces. But no reader of "An Unsocial Socialist" needs to be +told how, by the exercise of a certain considerate tact (which on the +outside, perhaps, seems the opposite of tact), I have contrived to +maintain genial terms with men and women of all classes, even those +whose opinions and political conduct seemed to me most dangerous. + +However, I do not here propose to go fully into my own position, lest +I should seem tedious, and be accused, not for the first time, of a +propensity to lecture--a reproach which comes naturally enough from +persons whose conceptions are never too wide to be expressed within the +limits of a sixpenny telegram. I shall confine myself to correcting a +few misapprehensions which have, I am told, arisen among readers who +from inveterate habit cannot bring the persons and events of a novel +into any relation with the actual conditions of life. + +In the first place, then, I desire to say that Mrs. Erskine is not dead +of a broken heart. Erskine and I and our wives are very much in and out +at one another's houses; and I am therefore in a position to declare +that Mrs. Erskine, having escaped by her marriage from the vile caste +in which she was relatively poor and artificially unhappy and +ill-conditioned, is now, as the pretty wife of an art-critic, relatively +rich, as well as pleasant, active, and in sound health. Her chief +trouble, as far as I can judge, is the impossibility of shaking off her +distinguished relatives, who furtively quit their abject splendor to +drop in upon her for dinner and a little genuine human society much +oftener than is convenient to poor Erskine. She has taken a patronizing +fancy to her father, the Admiral, who accepts her condescension +gratefully as age brings more and more home to him the futility of his +social position. She has also, as might have been expected, become an +extreme advocate of socialism; and indeed, being in a great hurry for +the new order of things, looks on me as a lukewarm disciple because I do +not propose to interfere with the slowly grinding mill of Evolution, and +effect the change by one tremendous stroke from the united and awakened +people (for such she--vainly, alas!--believes the proletariat already to +be). As to my own marriage, some have asked sarcastically whether I ran +away again or not; others, whether it has been a success. These are +foolish questions. My marriage has turned out much as I expected +it would. I find that my wife's views on the subject vary with the +circumstances under which they are expressed. + +I have now to make one or two comments on the impressions conveyed +by the style of your narrative. Sufficient prominence has not, in my +opinion, been given to the extraordinary destiny of my father, the +true hero of a nineteenth century romance. I, who have seen society +reluctantly accepting works of genius for nothing from men of +extraordinary gifts, and at the same time helplessly paying my +father millions, and submitting to monstrous mortgages of its future +production, for a few directions as to the most business-like way of +manufacturing and selling cotton, cannot but wonder, as I prepare my +income-tax returns, whether society was mad to sacrifice thus to him and +to me. He was the man with power to buy, to build, to choose, to endow, +to sit on committees and adjudicate upon designs, to make his own terms +for placing anything on a sound business footing. He was hated, envied, +sneered at for his low origin, reproached for his ignorance, yet nothing +would pay unless he liked or pretended to like it. I look round at +our buildings, our statues, our pictures, our newspapers, our domestic +interiors, our books, our vehicles, our morals, our manners, our +statutes, and our religion, and I see his hand everywhere, for they +were all made or modified to please him. Those which did not please him +failed commercially: he would not buy them, or sell them, or countenance +them; and except through him, as "master of the industrial situation," +nothing could be bought, or sold, or countenanced. The landlord could +do nothing with his acres except let them to him; the capitalist's hoard +rotted and dwindled until it was lent to him; the worker's muscles +and brain were impotent until sold to him. What king's son would not +exchange with me--the son of the Great Employer--the Merchant Prince? +No wonder they proposed to imprison me for treason when, by applying my +inherited business talent, I put forward a plan for securing his full +services to society for a few hundred a year. But pending the adoption +of my plan, do not describe him contemptuously as a vulgar tradesman. +Industrial kingship, the only real kingship of our century, was his by +divine right of his turn for business; and I, his son, bid you respect +the crown whose revenues I inherit. If you don't, my friend, your book +won't pay. + +I hear, with some surprise, that the kindness of my conduct to Henrietta +(my first wife, you recollect) has been called in question; why, I do +not exactly know. Undoubtedly I should not have married her, but it is +waste of time to criticise the judgment of a young man in love. Since +I do not approve of the usual plan of neglecting and avoiding a spouse +without ceasing to keep up appearances, I cannot for the life of me see +what else I could have done than vanish when I found out my mistake. It +is but a short-sighted policy to wait for the mending of matters that +are bound to get worse. The notion that her death was my fault is sheer +unreason on the face of it; and I need no exculpation on that score; but +I must disclaim the credit of having borne her death like a philosopher. +I ought to have done so, but the truth is that I was greatly affected at +the moment, and the proof of it is that I and Jansenius (the only +other person who cared) behaved in a most unbecoming fashion, as men +invariably do when they are really upset. Perfect propriety at a death +is seldom achieved except by the undertaker, who has the advantage of +being free from emotion. + +Your rigmarole (if you will excuse the word) about the tombstone gives +quite a wrong idea of my attitude on that occasion. I stayed away from +the funeral for reasons which are, I should think, sufficiently obvious +and natural, but which you somehow seem to have missed. Granted that my +fancy for Hetty was only a cloud of illusions, still I could not, within +a few days of her sudden death, go in cold blood to take part in a +grotesque and heathenish mummery over her coffin. I should have +broken out and strangled somebody. But on every other point I--weakly +enough--sacrificed my own feelings to those of Jansenius. I let him +have his funeral, though I object to funerals and to the practice of +sepulture. I consented to a monument, although there is, to me, no more +bitterly ridiculous outcome of human vanity than the blocks raised to +tell posterity that John Smith, or Jane Jackson, late of this parish, +was born, lived, and died worth enough money to pay a mason to +distinguish their bones from those of the unrecorded millions. To +gratify Jansenius I waived this objection, and only interfered to save +him from being fleeced and fooled by an unnecessary West End middleman, +who, as likely as not, would have eventually employed the very man to +whom I gave the job. Even the epitaph was not mine. If I had had my way +I should have written: "HENRIETTA JANSENIUS WAS BORN ON SUCH A DATE, +MARRIED A MAN NAMED TREFUSIS, AND DIED ON SUCH ANOTHER DATE; AND NOW +WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHETHER SHE DID OR NOT?" The whole notion conveyed +in the book that I rode rough-shod over everybody in the affair, and +only consulted my own feelings, is the very reverse of the truth. + +As to the tomfoolery down at Brandon's, which ended in Erskine and +myself marrying the young lady visitors there, I can only congratulate +you on the determination with which you have striven to make something +like a romance out of such very thin material. I cannot say that I +remember it all exactly as you have described it; my wife declares +flatly there is not a word of truth in it as far as she is concerned, +and Mrs. Erskine steadily refuses to read the book. + +On one point I must acknowledge that you have proved yourself a master +of the art of fiction. What Hetty and I said to one another that day +when she came upon me in the shrubbery at Alton College was known only +to us two. She never told it to anyone, and I soon forgot it. All +due honor, therefore, to the ingenuity with which you have filled the +hiatus, and shown the state of affairs between us by a discourse on +"surplus value," cribbed from an imperfect report of one of my public +lectures, and from the pages of Karl Marx! If you were an economist I +should condemn you for confusing economic with ethical considerations, +and for your uncertainty as to the function which my father got his +start by performing. But as you are only a novelist, I compliment you +heartily on your clever little pasticcio, adding, however, that as an +account of what actually passed between myself and Hetty, it is the +wildest romance ever penned. Wickens's boy was far nearer the mark. + +In conclusion, allow me to express my regret that you can find no +better employment for your talent than the writing of novels. The first +literary result of the foundation of our industrial system upon the +profits of piracy and slave-trading was Shakspere. It is our misfortune +that the sordid misery and hopeless horror of his view of man's destiny +is still so appropriate to English society that we even to-day regard +him as not for an age, but for all time. But the poetry of despair will +not outlive despair itself. Your nineteenth century novelists are only +the tail of Shakspere. Don't tie yourself to it: it is fast wriggling +into oblivion. + +I am, dear sir, yours truly, + +SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's An Unsocial Socialist, by George Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN UNSOCIAL SOCIALIST *** + +***** This file should be named 1654.txt or 1654.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/1654/ + +Produced by Dianne Bean and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Check for "be bad/he had" typos. +Thanks! + + + + + +Etext prepared by Dianne Bean of Phoenix, Arizona using OmniPage +Pro scanning software donated by Caere. + + + + + +An Unsocial Socialist + +by George Bernard Shaw + + + + +CHAPTER I + +In the dusk of an October evening, a sensible looking woman of +forty came out through an oaken door to a broad landing on the +first floor of an old English country-house. A braid of her hair +had fallen forward as if she had been stooping over book or pen; +and she stood for a moment to smooth it, and to gaze +contemplatively--not in the least sentimentally--through the +tall, +narrow window. The sun was setting, but its glories were at the +other side of the house; for this window looked eastward, where +the landscape of sheepwalks and pasture land was sobering at the +approach of darkness. + +The lady, like one to whom silence and quiet were luxuries, +lingered on the landing for some time. Then she turned towards +another door, on which was inscribed, in white letters, Class +Room No. 6. Arrested by a whispering above, she paused in the +doorway, and looked up the stairs along a broad smooth handrail +that swept round in an unbroken curve at each landing, forming an +inclined plane from the top to the bottom of the house. + +A young voice, apparently mimicking someone, now came from above, +saying, + +"We will take the Etudes de la Velocite next, if you please, +ladies." + +Immediately a girl in a holland dress shot down through space; +whirled round the curve with a fearless centrifugal toss of her +ankle; and vanished into the darkness beneath. She was followed +by a stately girl in green, intently holding her breath as she +flew; and also by a large young woman in black, with her lower +lip grasped between her teeth, and her fine brown eyes protruding +with excitement. Her passage created a miniature tempest which +disarranged anew the hair of the lady on the landing, who waited +in breathless alarm until two light shocks and a thump announced +that the aerial voyagers had landed safely in the hall. + +"Oh law!" exclaimed the voice that had spoken before. "Here's +Susan." + +"It's a mercy your neck ain't broken," replied some palpitating +female. "I'll tell of you this time, Miss Wylie; indeed I will. +And you, too, Miss Carpenter: I wonder at you not to have more +sense at your age and with your size! Miss Wilson can't help +hearing when you come down with a thump like that. You shake the +whole house." + +Oh bother!" said Miss Wylie. "The Lady Abbess takes good care to +shut out all the noise we make. Let us--" + +"Girls," said the lady above, calling down quietly, but with +ominous distinctness. + +Silence and utter confusion ensued. Then came a reply, in a tone +of honeyed sweetness, from Miss Wylie: + +"Did you call us, DEAR Miss Wilson?" + +"Yes. Come up here, if you please, all three." + +There was some hesitation among them, each offering the other +precedence. At last they went up slowly, in the order, though not +at all in the manner, of their flying descent; followed Miss +Wilson into the class-room; and stood in a row before her, +illumined through three western windows with a glow of ruddy +orange light. Miss Carpenter, the largest of the three, was red +and confused. Her arms hung by her sides, her fingers twisting +the folds of her dress. Miss Gertrude Lindsay, in pale sea-green, +had a small head, delicate complexion, and pearly teeth. She +stood erect, with an expression of cold distaste for reproof of +any sort. The holland dress of the third offender had changed +from yellow to white as she passed from the gray eastern twilight +on the staircase into the warm western glow in the room. Her face +had a bright olive tone, and seemed to have a golden mica in its +composition. Her eyes and hair were hazel-nut color; and her +teeth, the upper row of which she displayed freely, were like +fine Portland stone, and sloped outward enough to have spoilt her +mouth, had they not been supported by a rich under lip, and a +finely curved, impudent chin. Her half cajoling, half mocking +air, and her ready smile, were difficult to confront with +severity; and Miss Wilson knew it; for she would not look at her +even when attracted by a convulsive start and an angry side +glance from Miss Lindsay, who had just been indented between the +ribs by a finger tip. + +"You are aware that you have broken the rules," said Miss Wilson +quietly. + +"We didn't intend to. We really did not," said the girl in +holland, coaxingly. + +"Pray what was your intention then, Miss Wylie?" + +Miss Wylie unexpectedly treated this as a smart repartee instead +of a rebuke. She sent up a strange little scream, which exploded +in a cascade of laughter. + +"Pray be silent, Agatha," said Miss Wilson severely. Agatha +looked contrite. Miss Wilson turned hastily to the eldest of the +three, and continued: + +"I am especially surprised at you, Miss Carpenter. Since you have +no desire to keep faith with me by upholding the rules, of which +you are quite old enough to understand the necessity, I shall not +trouble you with reproaches, or appeals to which I am now +convinced that you would not respond," (here Miss Carpenter, with +an inarticulate protest, burst into tears); "but you should at +least think of the danger into which your juniors are led by your +childishness. How should you feel if Agatha had broken her neck?" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Agatha, putting her hand quickly to her neck. + +"I didn't think there was any danger," said Miss Carpenter, +struggling with her tears. " Agatha has done it so oft--oh dear! +you have torn me." Miss Wylie had pulled at her schoolfellow's +skirt, and pulled too hard. + +"Miss Wylie," said Miss Wilson, flushing slightly, "I must ask +you to leave the room." + +"Oh, no," exclaimed Agatha, clasping her hands in distress. +"Please don't, dear Miss Wilson. I am so sorry. I beg your +pardon." + +"Since you will not do what I ask, I must go myself," said Miss +Wilson sternly. "Come with me to my study," she added to the two +other girls. "If you attempt to follow, Miss Wylie, I shall +regard it as an intrusion." + +"But I will go away if you wish it. I didn't mean to diso--" + +"I shall not trouble you now. Come, girls." + +The three went out; and Miss Wylie, left behind in disgrace, made +a surpassing grimace at Miss Lindsay, who glanced back at her. +When she was alone, her vivacity subsided. She went slowly to the +window, and gazed disparagingly at the landscape. Once, when a +sound of voices above reached her, her eyes brightened, and her +ready lip moved; but the next silent moment she relapsed into +moody indifference, which was not relieved until her two +companions, looking very serious, re-entered. + +"Well," she said gaily, "has moral force been applied? Are you +going to the Recording Angel?" + +"Hush, Agatha," said Miss Carpenter. "You ought to be ashamed of +yourself." + +"No, but you ought, you goose. A nice row you have got me into!" + +"It was your own fault. You tore my dress." + +"Yes, when you were blurting out that I sometimes slide down the +banisters." + +"Oh!" said Miss Carpenter slowly, as if this reason had not +occurred to her before. "Was that why you pulled me?" + +"Dear me! It has actually dawned upon you. You are a most awfully +silly girl, Jane. What did the Lady Abbess say?" + +Miss Carpenter again gave her tears way, and could not reply. + +"She is disgusted with us, and no wonder," said Miss Lindsay. + +"She said it was all your fault," sobbed Miss Carpenter. + +"Well, never mind, dear," said Agatha soothingly. "Put it in the +Recording Angel." + +"I won't write a word in the Recording Angel unless you do so +first," said Miss Lindsay angrily. "You are more in fault than we +are." + +"Certainly, my dear," replied Agatha. "A whole page, if you +wish." + +"I b-believe you LIKE writing in the Recording Angel," said Miss +Carpenter spitefully. + +"Yes, Jane. It is the best fun the place affords." + +"It may be fun to you," said Miss Lindsay sharply; "but it is not +very creditable to me, as Miss Wilson said just now, to take a +prize in moral science and then have to write down that I don't +know how to behave myself. Besides, I do not like to be told that +I am ill-bred!" + +Agatha laughed. "What a deep old thing she is! She knows all our +weaknesses, and stabs at us through them. Catch her telling me, +or Jane there, that we are ill-bred!" + +"I don't understand you," said Miss Lindsay, haughtily. + +"Of course not. That's because you don't know as much moral +science as I, though I never took a prize in it." + +"You never took a prize in anything," said Miss Carpenter. + +"And I hope I never shall," said Agatha. "I would as soon +scramble for hot pennies in the snow, like the street boys, as +scramble to see who can answer most questions. Dr. Watts is +enough moral science for me. Now for the Recording Angel." + +She went to a shelf and took down a heavy quarto, bound in black +leather, and inscribed, in red letters, MY FAULTS. This she threw +irreverently on a desk, and tossed its pages over until she came +to one only partly covered with manuscript confessions. + +"For a wonder," she said, "here are two entries that are not +mine. Sarah Gerram! What has she been confessing?" + +"Don't read it," said Miss Lindsay quickly. "You know that it is +the most dishonorable thing any of us can do." + +"Poch! Our little sins are not worth making such a fuss about. I +always like to have my entries read: it makes me feel like an +author; and so in Christian duty I always read other people's. +Listen to poor Sarah's tale of guilt. '1st October. I am very +sorry that I slapped Miss Chambers in the lavatory this morning, +and knocked out one of her teeth. This was very wicked; but it +was coming out by itself; and she has forgiven me because a new +one will come in its place; and she was only pretending when she +said she swallowed it. Sarah Gerram."' + +"Little fool!" said Miss Lindsay. "The idea of our having to +record in the same book with brats like that!" + +"Here is a touching revelation. '4th October. Helen Plantagenet +is deeply grieved to have to confess that I took the first place +in algebra yesterday unfairly. Miss Lindsay prompted me;' and--" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Miss Lindsay, reddening. "That is how she thanks +me for prompting her, is it? How dare she confess my faults in +the Recording Angel?" + +"Serves you right for prompting her," said Miss Carpenter. "She +was always a double-faced cat; and you ought to have known +better." + +"Oh, I assure you it was not for her sake that I did it," replied +Miss Lindsay. "It was to prevent that Jackson girl from getting +first place. I don't like Helen Plantagenet; but at least she is +a lady.' + +"Stuff, Gertrude," said Agatha, with a touch of earnestness. "One +would think, to hear you talk, that your grandmother was a cook. +Don't be such a snob." + +"Miss Wylie," said Gertrude, becoming scarlet: "you are very--oh! +oh! Stop Ag--oh! I will tell Miss--oh!" Agatha had inserted a +steely finger between her ribs, and was tickling her unendurably. + +"Sh-sh-sh," whispered Miss Carpenter anxiously. "The door is +open." + +"Am I Miss Wylie?" demanded Agatha, relentlessly continuing the +torture. "Am I very--whatever you were going to say? Am I? am I? +am I?" + +"No, no," gasped Gertrude, shrinking into a chair, almost in +hysterics. "You are very unkind, Agatha. You have hurt me." + +"You deserve it. If you ever get sulky with me again, or call me +Miss Wylie, I will kill you. I will tickle the soles of your feet +with a feather," (Miss Lindsay shuddered, and hid her feet +beneath the chair) "until your hair turns white. And now, if you +are truly repentant, come and record." + +"You must record first. It was all your fault." + +"But I am the youngest," said Agatha. + +"Well, then," said Gertrude, afraid to press the point, but +determined not to record first, "let Jane Carpenter begin. She is +the eldest." + +"Oh, of course," said Jane, with whimpering irony. "Let Jane do +all the nasty things first. I think it's very hard. You fancy +that Jane is a fool; but she isn't." + +"You are certainly not such a fool as you look, Jane," said +Agatha gravely. "But I will record first, if you like." + +"No, you shan't," cried Jane, snatching the pen from her. "I arm +the eldest; and I won't be put out of my place." + +She dipped the pen in the ink resolutely, and prepared to write. +Then she paused; considered; looked bewildered; and at last +appealed piteously to Agatha. + +"What shall I write?" she said. "You know how to write things +down; and I don't." + +"First put the date," said Agatha. + +"To be sure," said Jane, writing it quickly. "I forgot that. +Well?" + +"Now write, 'I am very sorry that Miss Wilson saw me when I slid +down the banisters this evening. Jane Carpenter.'" + +"Is that all?" + +"That's all: unless you wish to add something of your own +composition." + +"I hope it's all right," said Jane, looking suspiciously at +Agatha. "However, there can't be any harm in it; for it's the +simple truth. Anyhow, if you are playing one of your jokes on me, +you are a nasty mean thing, and I don't care. Now, Gertrude, it's +your turn. Please look at mine, and see whether the spelling is +right." + +"It is not my business to teach you to spell," said Gertrude, +taking the pen. And, while Jane was murmuring at her +churlishness, she wrote in a bold hand: + +"I have broken the rules by sliding down the banisters to-day +with Miss Carpenter and Miss Wylie. Miss Wylie went first." + +"You wretch!" exclaimed Agatha, reading over her shoulder. "And +your father is an admiral!" + +"I think it is only fair," said Miss Lindsay, quailing, but +assuming the tone of a moralist. "It is perfectly true." + +"All my money was made in trade," said Agatha; "but I should be +ashamed to save myself by shifting blame to your aristocratic +shoulders. You pitiful thing! Here: give me the pen." + +"I will strike it out if you wish; but I think " + +"No: it shall stay there to witness against you. How see how I +confess my faults." And she wrote, in a fine, rapid hand: + +"This evening Gertrude Lindsay and Jane Carpenter met me at the +top of the stairs, and said they wanted to slide down the +banisters and would do it if I went first. I told them that it +was against the rules, but they said that did not matter; and as +they are older than I am, I allowed myself to be persuaded, and +did." + +"What do you think of that?" said Agatha, displaying the page. + +They read it, and protested clamorously. + +"It is perfectly true," said Agatha, solemnly. + +"It's beastly mean," said Jane energetically. "The idea of your +finding fault with Gertrude, and then going and being twice as +bad yourself! I never heard of such a thing in my life." + +"'Thus bad begins; but worse remains behind,' as the Standard +Elocutionist says," said Agatha, adding another sentence to her +confession. + +"But it was all my fault. Also I was rude to Miss Wilson, and +refused to leave the room when she bade me. I was not wilfully +wrong except in sliding down the banisters. I am so fond of a +slide that I could not resist the temptation." + +"Be warned by me, Agatha," said Jane impressively. "If you write +cheeky things in that book, you will be expelled." + +"Indeed!" replied Agatha significantly. "Wait until Miss Wilson +sees what you have written." + +"Gertrude," cried Jane, with sudden misgiving, "has she made me +write anything improper? Agatha, do tell me if--" + +Here a gong sounded; and the three girls simultaneously exclaimed +"Grub!" and rushed from the room. + + + +CHAPTER II + +One sunny afternoon, a hansom drove at great speed along Belsize +Avenue, St. John's Wood, and stopped before a large mansion. A +young lady sprang out; ran up the steps, and rang the bell +impatiently. She was of the olive complexion, with a sharp +profile: dark eyes with long lashes; narrow mouth with delicately +sensuous lips; small head, feet, and hands, with long taper +fingers; lithe and very slender figure moving with serpent-like +grace. Oriental taste was displayed in the colors of her costume, +which consisted of a white dress, close-fitting, and printed with +an elaborate china blue pattern; a yellow straw hat covered with +artificial hawthorn and scarlet berries; and tan-colored gloves +reaching beyond the elbow, and decorated with a profusion of gold +bangles. + +The door not being opened immediately, she rang again, violently, +and w as presently admitted by a maid, who seemed surprised to +see her. Without making any inquiry, she darted upstairs into a +drawing-room, where a matron of good presence, with features of +the finest Jewish type, sat reading. With her was a handsome boy +in black velvet, who said: + +"Mamma, here's Henrietta!" + +"Arthur," said the young lady excitedly, "leave the room this +instant; and don't dare to come back until you get leave." + +The boy's countenance fell, and he sulkily went out without a +word. + +"Is anything wrong?" said the matron, putting away her book with +the unconcerned resignation of an experienced person who foresees +a storm in a teacup. "Where is Sidney?" + +"Gone! Gone! Deserted me! I--" The young lady's utterance failed, +and she threw herself upon an ottoman, sobbing with passionate +spite. + +"Nonsense! I thought Sidney had more sense. There, Henrietta, +don't be silly. I suppose you have quarrelled." + +"No! No!! No!!!" cried Henrietta, stamping on the carpet. "We had +not a word. I have not lost my temper since we were married, +mamma; I solemnly swear I have not. I will kill myself; there is +no other way. There's a curse on me. I am marked out to be +miserable. He--" + +"Tut, tut! What has happened, Henrietta? As you have been married +now nearly six weeks, you can hardly be surprised at a little +tiff arising. You are so excitable! You cannot expect the sky to +be always cloudless. Most likely you are to blame; for Sidney is +far more reasonable than you. Stop crying, and behave like a +woman of sense, and I will go to Sidney and make everything +right." + +"But he's gone, and I can't find out where. Oh, what shall I do?" + +"What has happened?" + +Henrietta writhed with impatience. Then, forcing herself to tell +her story, she answered: + +"We arranged on Monday that I should spend two days with Aunt +Judith instead of going with him to Birmingham to that horrid +Trade Congress. We parted on the best of terms. He couldn't have +been more affectionate. I will kill myself; I don't care about +anything or anybody. And when I came back on Wednesday he was +gone, and there was this letter." She produced a letter, and wept +more bitterly than before. + +"Let me see it." + +Henrietta hesitated, but her mother took the letter from her, sat +down near the window, and composed herself to read without the +least regard to her daughter's vehement distress. The letter ran +thus: + +"Monday night. + +"My Dearest: I am off--surfeited with endearment--to live my own +life and do my own work. I could only have prepared you for this +by coldness or neglect, which are wholly impossible to me when +the spell of your presence is upon me. I find that I must fly if +I am to save myself. + +"I am afraid that I cannot give you satisfactory and intelligible +reasons for this step. You are a beautiful and luxurious +creature: life is to you full and complete only when it is a +carnival of love. My case is just the reverse. Before three soft +speeches have escaped me I rebuke myself for folly and +insincerity. Before a caress has had time to cool, a strenuous +revulsion seizes me: I long to return to my old lonely ascetic +hermit life; to my dry books; my Socialist propagandism; my +voyage of discovery through the wilderness of thought. I married +in an insane fit of belief that I had a share of the natural +affection which carries other men through lifetimes of matrimony. +Already I am undeceived. You are to me the loveliest woman in the +world. Well, for five weeks I have walked and tallied and dallied +with the loveliest woman in the world, and the upshot is that I +am flying from her, and am for a hermit's cave until I die. Love +cannot keep possession of me: all my strongest powers rise up +against it and will not endure it. Forgive me for writing +nonsense that you won't understand, and do not think too hardly +of me. I have been as good to you as my selfish nature allowed. +Do not seek to disturb me in the obscurity which I desire and +deserve. My solicitor will call on your father to arrange +business matters, and you shall be as happy as wealth and liberty +can make you. We shall meet again--some day. + +"Adieu, my last love, + +"Sidney Trefusis." + +"Well?" cried Mrs. Trefusis, observing through her tears that her +mother had read the letter and was contemplating it in a daze. + +"Well, certainly!" said Mrs. Jansenius, with emphasis. "Do you +think he is quite sane, Henrietta? Or have you been plaguing him +for too much attention? Men are not willing to give up their +whole existence to their wives, even during the honeymoon." + +"He pretended that he was never happy out of my presence," sobbed +Henrietta. "There never was anything so cruel. I often wanted to +be by myself for a change, but I was afraid to hurt his feelings +by saying so. And now he has no feelings. But he must come back +to me. Mustn't he, mamma?" + +"He ought to. I suppose he has not gone away with anyone?" + +Henrietta sprang up, her cheeks vivid scarlet. "If I thought that +I would pursue him to the end of the earth, and murder her. But +no; he is not like anybody else. He hates me! Everybody hates me! +You don't care whether I am deserted or not, nor papa, nor anyone +in this house." + +Mrs. Jansenius, still indifferent to her daughter's agitation, +considered a moment, and then said placidly: + +"You can do nothing until we hear from the solicitor. In the +meantime you may stay with us, if you wish. I did not expect a +visit from you so soon; but your room has not been used since you +went away." + +Mrs. Trefusis ceased crying, chilled by this first intimation +that her father's house was no longer her home. A more real sense +of desolation came upon her. Under its cold influence she began +to collect herself, and to feel her pride rising like a barrier +between her and her mother. + +"I won't stay long," she said. "If his solicitor will not tell me +where he is, I will hunt through England for him. I am sorry to +trouble you." + +"Oh, you will be no greater trouble than you have always been," +said Mrs. Jansenius calmly, not displeased to see that her +daughter had taken the hint. "You had better go and wash your +face. People may call, and I presume you don't wish to receive +them in that plight. If you meet Arthur on the stairs, please +tell him he may come in." + +Henrietta screwed her lips into a curious pout and withdrew. +Arthur then came in and stood at the window in sullen silence, +brooding over his recent expulsion. Suddenly he exclaimed: +"Here's papa, and it's not five o'clock yet!" whereupon his +mother sent him away again. + +Mr. Jansenius was a man of imposing presence, not yet in his +fiftieth year, but not far from it. He moved with dignity, +bearing himself as if the contents of his massive brow were +precious. His handsome aquiline nose and keen dark eyes +proclaimed his Jewish origin, of which he was ashamed. Those who +did not know this naturally believed that he was proud of it, and +were at a loss to account for his permitting his children to be +educated as Christians. Well instructed in business, and subject +to no emotion outside the love of family, respectability, +comfort, and money, he had maintained the capital inherited from +his father, and made it breed new capital in the usual way. He +was a banker, and his object as such was to intercept and +appropriate the immense saving which the banking system effects, +and so, as far as possible, to leave the rest of the world +working just as hard as before banking was introduced. But as the +world would not on these terms have banked at all, he had to give +them some of the saving as an inducement. So they profited by the +saving as well as he, and he had the satisfaction of being at +once a wealthy citizen and a public benefactor, rich in comforts +and easy in conscience. + +He entered the room quickly, and his wife saw that something had +vexed him. + +"Do you know what has happened, Ruth?" he said. + +"Yes. She is upstairs." + +Mr. Jansenius stared. "Do you mean to say that she has left +already?" he said. "What business has she to come here?" + +"It is natural enough. Where else should she have gone?" + +Mr. Jansenius, who mistrusted his own judgment when it differed +from that of his wife, replied slowly, "Why did she not go to her +mother?" + +Mrs. Jansenius, puzzled in her turn, looked at him with cool +wonder, and remarked, "I am her mother, am I not?" + +"I was not aware of it. I am surprised to hear it, Ruth. Have you +had a letter too" I have seen the letter. But what do you mean by +telling me that you do not know I am Henrietta's mother? Are you +trying to be funny?" + +"Henrietta! Is she here? Is this some fresh trouble?" + +"I don't know. What are you talking about?" + +"I am talking about Agatha Wylie." + +"Oh! I was talking about Henrietta." + +"Well, what about Henrietta?" + +"What about Agatha Wylie?" + +At this Mr. Jansenius became exasperated, and he deemed it best +to relate what Henrietta had told her. When she gave him +Trefusis's letter, he said, more calmly: "Misfortunes never come +singly. Read that," and handed her another letter, so that they +both began reading at the same time. + +Mrs. Jansenius read as follows: + +"Alton College, Lyvern. + +"To Mrs. Wylie, Acacia Lodge, Chiswick. + +"Dear Madam: I write with great regret to request that you will +at once withdraw Miss Wylie from Alton College. In an +establishment like this, where restraint upon the liberty of the +students is reduced to a minimum, it is necessary that the small +degree of subordination which is absolutely indispensable be +acquiesced in by all without complaint or delay. Miss Wylie has +failed to comply with this condition. She has declared her wish +to leave, and has assumed an attitude towards myself and my +colleagues which we cannot, consistently with our duty to +ourselves and her fellow students, pass over. If Miss Wylie has +any cause to complain of her treatment here, or of the step which +she has compelled us to take, she will doubtless make it known to +you. + +"Perhaps you will be so good as to communicate with Miss Wylie's +guardian, Mr. Jansenius, with whom I shall be happy to make an +equitable arrangement respecting the fees which have been paid in +advance for the current term. + +"I am, dear madam, + +"Yours faithfully, + +"Maria Wilson." + +"A nice young lady, that!" said Mrs. Jansenius. + +"I do not understand this," said Mr. Jansenius, reddening as he +took in the purport of his son-in-law's letter. "I will not +submit to it. What does it mean, Ruth ?" + +"I don't know. Sidney is mad, I think; and his honeymoon has +brought his madness out. But you must not let him throw Henrietta +on my hands again." + +"Mad! Does he think he can shirk his responsibility to his wife +because she is my daughter? Does he think, because his mother's +father was a baronet, that he can put Henrietta aside the moment +her society palls on him?" + +"Oh, it's nothing of that sort. He never thought of us. But I +will make him think of us," said Mr. Jansenius, raising his voice +in great agitation. "He shall answer for it." + +Just then Henrietta returned, and saw her father moving excitedly +to and fro, repeating, "He shall answer to me for this. He shall +answer for it." + +Mrs. Jansenius frowned at her daughter to remain silent, and said +soothingly, "Don't lose your temper, John." + +"But I will lose my temper. Insolent hound! Damned scoundrel!" + +"He is not," whimpered Henrietta, sitting down and taking out her +handkerchief. + +"Oh, come, come!" said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily, "we have had +enough crying. Let us have no more of it." + +Henrietta sprang up in a passion. "I will say and do as I +please," she exclaimed. "I am a married woman, and I will receive +no orders. And I will have my husband back again, no matter what +he does to hide himself. Papa, won't you make him come back to +me? I am dying. Promise that you will make him come back." + +And, throwing herself upon her father's bosom, she postponed +further discussion by going into hysterics, and startling the +household by her screams. + + + +CHAPTER III + +One of the professors at Alton College was a Mrs. Miller, an +old-fashioned schoolmistress who did not believe in Miss Wilson's +system of government by moral force, and carried it out under +protest. Though not ill-natured, she was narrow-minded enough to +be in some degree contemptible, and was consequently prone to +suspect others of despising her. She suspected Agatha in +particular, and treated her with disdainful curtness in such +intercourse as they had--it was fortunately little. Agatha was +not hurt by this, for Mrs. Miller was an unsympathetic woman, who +made no friends among the girls, and satisfied her affectionate +impulses by petting a large cat named Gracchus, but generally +called Bacchus by an endearing modification of the harsh initial +consonant. + +One evening Mrs. Miller, seated with Miss Wilson in the study, +correcting examination papers, heard in the distance a cry like +that of a cat in distress. She ran to the door and listened. +Presently there arose a prolonged wail, slurring up through two +octaves, and subsiding again. It was a true feline screech, +impossible to localize; but it was interrupted by a sob, a snarl, +a fierce spitting, and a scuffling, coming unmistakably from a +room on the floor beneath, in which, at that hour, the older +girls assembled for study. + +"My poor Gracchy!" exclaimed Mrs. Miller, running downstairs as +fast as she could. She found the room unusually quiet. Every girl +was deep in study except Miss Carpenter, who, pretending to pick +up a fallen book, was purple with suppressed laughter and the +congestion caused by stooping. + +"Where is Miss Ward?" demanded Mrs. Miller. + +"Miss Ward has gone for some astronomical diagrams in which we +are interested," said Agatha, looking up gravely. Just then Miss +Ward, diagrams in hand, entered. + +"Has that cat been in here?" she said, not seeing Mrs. Miller, +and speaking in a tone expressive of antipathy to Gracchus. + +Agatha started and drew up her ankles, as if fearful of having +them bitten. Then, looking apprehensively under the desk, she +replied, "There is no cat here, Miss Ward." + +"There is one somewhere; I heard it," said Miss Ward carelessly, +unrolling her diagrams, which she began to explain without +further parley. Mrs. Miller, anxious for her pet, hastened to +seek it elsewhere. In the hall she met one of the housemaids. + +"Susan," she said, "have you seen Gracchus?" + +"He's asleep on the hearthrug in your room, ma'am. But I heard +him crying down here a moment ago. I feel sure that another cat +has got in, and that they are fighting." + +Susan smiled compassionately. "Lor' bless you, ma'am," she said, +"that was Miss Wylie. It's a sort of play-acting that she goes +through. There is the bee on the window-pane, and the soldier up +the chimley, and the cat under the dresser. She does them all +like life." + +"The soldier in the chimney!" repeated Mrs. Miller, shocked. + +"Yes, ma'am. Like as it were a follower that had hid there when +he heard the mistress coming." + +Mrs. Miller's face set determinedly. She returned to the study +and related what had just occurred, adding some sarcastic +comments on the efficacy of moral force in maintaining collegiate +discipline. Miss Wilson looked grave; considered for some time; +and at last said: "I must think over this. Would you mind leaving +it in my hands for the present?" + +Mrs. Miller said that she did not care in whose hands it remained +provided her own were washed of it, and resumed her work at the +papers. Miss Wilson then, wishing to be alone, went into the +empty classroom at the other side of the landing. She took the +Fault Book from its shelf and sat down before it. Its record +closed with the announcement, in Agatha's handwriting: + +"Miss Wilson has called me impertinent, and has written to my +uncle that I have refused to obey the rules. I was not +impertinent; and I never refused to obey the rules. So much for +Moral Force!" + +Miss Wilson rose vigorously, exclaiming: "I will soon let her +know whether--" She checked herself, and looked round hastily, +superstitiously fancying that Agatha might have stolen into the +room unobserved. Reassured that she was alone, she examined her +conscience as to whether she had done wrong in calling Agatha +impertinent, justifying herself by the reflection that Agatha +had, in fact, been impertinent. Yet she recollected that she had +refused to admit this plea on a recent occasion when Jane +Carpenter had advanced it in extenuation of having called a +fellow-student a liar. Had she then been unjust to Jane, or +inconsiderate to Agatha? + +Her casuistry was interrupted by some one softly whistling a +theme from the overture to Masaniello, popular at the college in +the form of an arrangement for six pianofortes and twelve hands. +There was only one student unladylike and musical enough to +whistle; and Miss Wilson was ashamed to find herself growing +nervous at the prospect of an encounter with Agatha, who entered +whistling sweetly, but with a lugubrious countenance. When she +saw in whose presence she stood, she begged pardon politely, and +was about to withdraw, when Miss Wilson, summoning all her +Judgment and tact, and hoping that they would--contrary to their +custom in emergencies--respond to the summons, said: + +"Agatha, come here. I want to speak to you." + +Agatha closed her lips, drew in a long breath through her +nostrils, and marched to within a few feet of Miss Wilson, where +she halted with her hands clasped before her. + +"Sit down." + +Agatha sat down with a single movement, like a doll. + +"I don't understand that, Agatha," said Miss Wilson, pointing to +the entry in the Recording Angel. "What does it mean?" + +"I am unfairly treated," said Agatha, with signs of agitation. + +"In what way?" + +"In every way. I am expected to be something more than mortal. +Everyone else is encouraged to complain, and to be weak and +silly. But I must have no feeling. I must be always in the right. +Everyone else may be home-sick, or huffed, or in low spirits. I +must have no nerves, and must keep others laughing all day long. +Everyone else may sulk when a word of reproach is addressed to +them, and may make the professors afraid to find fault with them. +I have to bear with the insults of teachers who have less +self-control than I, a girl of seventeen! and must coax them out +of the difficulties they make for themselves by their own ill +temper." + +"But, Agatha--" + +"Oh, I know I am talking nonsense, Miss Wilson; but can you +expect me to be always sensible--to be infallible?" + +"Yes, Agatha; I do not think it is too much to expect you to be +always sensible; and--" + +"Then you have neither sense nor sympathy yourself," said Agatha. + +There was an awful pause. Neither could have told how long it +lasted. Then Agatha, feeling that she must do or say something +desperate, or else fly, made a distracted gesture and ran out of +the room. + +She rejoined her companions in the great hall of the mansion, +where they were assembled after study for "recreation," a noisy +process which always set in spontaneously when the professors +withdrew. She usually sat with her two favorite associates on a +high window seat near the hearth. That place was now occupied by +a little girl with flaxen hair, whom Agatha, regardless of moral +force, lifted by the shoulders and deposited on the floor. Then +she sat down and said: + +"Oh, such a piece of news!" + +Miss Carpenter opened her eyes eagerly. Gertrude Lindsay affected +indifference. + +"Someone is going to be expelled," said Agatha. + +"Expelled! Who?" + +"You will know soon enough, Jane," replied Agatha, suddenly +grave. "It is someone who made an impudent entry in the Recording +Angel." + +Fear stole upon Jane, and she became very red. "Agatha," she +said, "it was you who told me what to write. You know you did, +and you can't deny it." + +"I can't deny it, can't I? I am ready to swear that I never +dictated a word to you in my life." + +"Gertrude knows you did," exclaimed Jane, appalled, and almost in +tears. + +"There," said Agatha, petting her as if she were a vast baby. "It +shall not be expelled, so it shan't. Have you seen the Recording +Angel lately, either of you?" + +"Not since our last entry," said Gertrude. + +"Chips," said Agatha, calling to the flaxen-haired child, "go +upstairs to No. 6, and, if Miss Wilson isn't there, fetch me the +Recording Angel." + +The little girl grumbled inarticulately and did not stir. + +"Chips," resumed Agatha, "did you ever wish that you had never +been born?" + +"Why don't you go yourself?" said the child pettishly, but +evidently alarmed. + +"Because," continued Agatha, ignoring the question, "you shall +wish yourself dead and buried under the blackest flag in the coal +cellar if you don't bring me the book before I count sixteen. +One--two--" + +"Go at once and do as you are told, you disagreeable little +thing," said Gertrude sharply. "How dare you be so disobliging?" + +"--nine--ten--eleven--" pursued Agatha. + +The child quailed, went out, and presently returned, hugging the +Recording Angel in her arms. + +"You are a good little darling--when your better qualities are +brought out by a judicious application of moral force," said +Agatha, good-humoredly. "Remind me to save the raisins out of my +pudding for you to-morrow. Now, Jane, you shall see the entry for +which the best-hearted girl in the college is to be expelled. +Voila!" + +The two girls read and were awestruck; Jane opening her mouth and +gasping, Gertrude closing hers and looking very serious. + +"Do you mean to say that you had the dreadful cheek to let the +Lady Abbess see that?" said Jane. + +"Pooh! she would have forgiven that. You should have heard what I +said to her! She fainted three times." + +"That's a story," said Gertrude gravely. + +"I beg your pardon," said Agatha, swiftly grasping Gertrude's +knee. + +"Nothing," cried Gertrude, flinching hysterically. "Don't, +Agatha." + +"How many times did Miss Wilson faint?" + +"Three times. I will scream, Agatha; I will indeed." + +"Three times, as you say. And I wonder that a girl brought up as +you have been, by moral force, should be capable of repeating +such a falsehood. But we had an awful row, really and truly. She +lost her temper. Fortunately, I never lose mine." + +"Well, I'm browed!" exclaimed Jane incredulously. "I like that." + +"For a girl of county family, you are inexcusably vulgar, Jane. I +don't know what I said; but she will never forgive me for +profaning her pet book. I shall be expelled as certainly as I am +sitting here." + +"And do you mean to say that you are going away?" said Jane, +faltering as she began to realize the consequences. + +"I do. And what is to become of you when I am not here to get you +out of your scrapes, or of Gertrude without me to check her +inveterate snobbishness, is more than I can foresee." + +"I am not snobbish," said Gertrude, " although I do not choose to +make friends with everyone. But I never objected to you, Agatha." + +"No; I should like to catch you at it. Hallo, Jane!" (who had +suddenly burst into tears): "what's the matter? I trust you are +not permitting yourself to take the liberty of crying for me." + +"Indeed," sobbed Jane indignantly, "I know that I am a f--fool +for my pains. You have no heart." + +"You certainly are a f--fool, as you aptly express it," said +Agatha, passing her arm round Jane, and disregarding an angry +attempt to shake it off; "but if I had any heart it would be +touched by this proof of your attachment." + +"I never said you had no heart," protested Jane; "but I hate when +you speak like a book." + +"You hate when I speak like a book, do you? My dear, silly old +Jane! I shall miss you greatly." + +"Yes, I dare say," said Jane, with tearful sarcasm. "At least my +snoring will never keep you awake again." + +"You don't snore, Jane. We have been in a conspiracy to make you +believe that you do, that's all. Isn't it good of me to tell +you?" + +Jane was overcome by this revelation. After a long pause, she +said with deep conviction, "I always knew that I didn't. Oh, the +way you kept it up! I solemnly declare that from this time forth +I will believe nobody." + +"Well, and what do you think of it all?" said Agatha, +transferring her attention to Gertrude, who was very grave. + +"I think--I am now speaking seriously, Agatha--I think you are in +the wrong." + +"Why do you think that, pray?" demanded Agatha, a little roused. + +"You must be, or Miss Wilson would not be angry with you. Of +course, according to your own account, you are always in the +right, and everyone else is always wrong; but you shouldn't have +written that in the book. You know I speak as your friend." + +"And pray what does your wretched little soul know of my motives +and feelings?" + +"It is easy enough to understand you," retorted Gertrude, +nettled. "Self-conceit is not so uncommon that one need be at a +loss to recognize it. And mind, Agatha Wylie," she continued, as +if goaded by some unbearable reminiscence, "if you are really +going, I don't care whether we part friends or not. I have not +forgotten the day when you called me a spiteful cat." + +"I have repented," said Agatha, unmoved. "One day I sat down and +watched Bacchus seated on the hearthrug, with his moony eyes +looking into space so thoughtfully and patiently that I +apologized for comparing you to him. If I were to call him a +spiteful cat he would only not believe me." + +"Because he is a cat," said Jane, with the giggle which was +seldom far behind her tears. + +"No; but because he is not spiteful. Gertrude keeps a recording +angel inside her little head, and it is so full of other people's +faults, written in large hand and read through a magnifying +glass, that there is no room to enter her own." + +"You are very poetic," said Gertrude; "but I understand what you +mean, and shall not forget it." + +"You ungrateful wretch," exclaimed Agatha, turning upon her so +suddenly and imperiously that she involuntarily shrank aside: +"how often, when you have tried to be insolent and false with me, +have I not driven away your bad angel--by tickling you? Had you a +friend in the college, except half-a-dozen toadies, until I came? +And now, because I have sometimes, for your own good, shown you +your faults, you bear malice against me, and say that you don't +care whether we part friends or not!" + +"I didn't say so." + +"Oh, Gertrude, you know you did," said Jane. + +"You seem to think that I have no conscience," said Gertrude +querulously. + +"I wish you hadn't," said Agatha. "Look at me! I have no +conscience, and see how much pleasanter I am!" + +"You care for no one but yourself," said Gertrude. "You never +think that other people have feelings too. No one ever considers +me." + +"Oh, I like to hear you talk," cried Jane ironically. "You are +considered a great deal more than is good for you; and the more +you are considered the more you want to be considered." + +"As if," declaimed Agatha theatrically, "increase of appetite did +grow by what it fed on. Shakespeare!" + +"Bother Shakespeare," said Jane, impetuously, "--old fool that +expects credit for saying things that everybody knows! But if you +complain of not being considered, Gertrude, how would you like to +be me, whom everybody sets down as a fool? But I am not such a +fool as--" + +"As you look," interposed Agatha. "I have told you so scores of +times, Jane; and I am glad that you have adopted my opinion at +last. Which would you rather be, a greater fool than y--" + +"Oh, shut up," said Jane, impatiently; "you have asked me that +twice this week already." + +The three were silent for some seconds after this: Agatha +meditating, Gertrude moody, Jane vacant and restless. At last +Agatha said: + +"And are you two also smarting under a sense of the +inconsiderateness and selfishness of the rest of the world--both +misunderstood--everything expected from you, and no allowances +made for you?" + +"I don't know what you mean by both of us," said Gertrude coldly. + +"Neither do I," said Jane angrily. "That is just the way people +treat me. You may laugh, Agatha; and she may turn up her nose as +much as she likes; you know it's true. But the idea of Gertrude +wanting to make out that she isn't considered is nothing but +sentimentality, and vanity, and nonsense." + +"You are exceedingly rude, Miss Carpenter," said Gertrude. + +"My manners are as good as yours, and perhaps better," retorted +Jane. "My family is as good, anyhow." + +"Children, children," said Agatha, admonitorily, "do not forget +that you are sworn friends." + +"We didn't swear," said Jane. "We were to have been three sworn +friends, and Gertrude and I were willing, but you wouldn't swear, +and so the bargain was cried off." + +"Just so," said Agatha; "and the result is that I spend all my +time in keeping peace between you. And now, to go back to our +subject, may I ask whether it has ever occurred to you that no +one ever considers me?" + +"I suppose you think that very funny. You take good care to make +yourself considered," sneered Jane. + +"You cannot say that I do not consider you," said Gertrude +reproachfully. + +"Not when I tickle you, dear." + +"I consider you, and I am not ticklesome," said Jane tenderly. + +"Indeed! Let me try," said Agatha, slipping her arm about Jane's +ample waist, and eliciting a piercing combination of laugh and +scream from her. + +"Sh--sh," whispered Gertrude quickly. "Don't you see the Lady +Abbess?" + +Miss Wilson had just entered the room. Agatha, without appearing +to be aware of her presence, stealthily withdrew her arm, and +said aloud: + +"How can you make such a noise, Jane? You will disturb the whole +house." + +Jane reddened with indignation, but had to remain silent, for the +eyes of the principal were upon her. Miss Wilson had her bonnet +on. She announced that she was going to walk to Lyvern, the +nearest village. Did any of the sixth form young ladies wish to +accompany her? + +Agatha jumped from her seat at once, and Jane smothered a laugh. + +"Miss Wilson said the sixth form, Miss Wylie," said Miss Ward, +who had entered also. "You are not in the sixth form." + +"No," said Agatha sweetly, "but I want to go, if I may." + +Miss Wilson looked round. The sixth form consisted of four +studious young ladies, whose goal in life for the present was an +examination by one of the Universities, or, as the college phrase +was, "the Cambridge Local." None of them responded. + +"Fifth form, then," said Miss Wilson. + +Jane, Gertrude, and four others rose and stood with Agatha. + +"Very well," said Miss Wilson. "Do not be long dressing." + +They left the room quietly, and dashed at the staircase the +moment they were out of sight. Agatha, though void of emulation +for the Cambridge Local, always competed with ardor for the honor +of being first up or down stairs. + +They soon returned, clad for walking, and left the college in +procession, two by two, Jane and Agatha leading, Gertrude and +Miss Wilson coming last. The road to Lyvern lay through acres of +pasture land, formerly arable, now abandoned to cattle, which +made more money for the landlord than the men whom they had +displaced. Miss Wilson's young ladies, being instructed in +economics, knew that this proved that the land was being used to +produce what was most wanted from it; and if all the advantage +went to the landlord, that was but natural, as he was the chief +gentleman in the neighborhood. Still the arrangement had its +disagreeable side; for it involved a great many cows, which made +them afraid to cross the fields; a great many tramps, who made +them afraid to walk the roads; and a scarcity of gentlemen +subjects for the maiden art of fascination. + +The sky was cloudy. Agatha, reckless of dusty stockings, waded +through the heaps of fallen leaves with the delight of a child +paddling in the sea; Gertrude picked her steps carefully, and the +rest tramped along, chatting subduedly, occasionally making some +scientific or philosophical remark in a louder tone, in order +that Miss Wilson might overhear and give them due credit. Save a +herdsman, who seemed to have caught something of the nature and +expression of the beasts he tended, they met no one until they +approached the village, where, on the brow of an acclivity, +masculine humanity appeared in the shape of two curates: one +tall, thin, close-shaven, with a book under his arm, and his neck +craned forward; the other middle-sized, robust, upright, and +aggressive, with short black whiskers, and an air of protest +against such notions as that a clergyman may not marry, hunt, +play cricket, or share the sports of honest laymen. The shaven +one was Mr. Josephs, his companion Mr. Fairholme. Obvious +scriptural perversions of this brace of names had been introduced +by Agatha. + +"Here come Pharaoh and Joseph," she said to Jane. "Joseph will +blush when you look at him. Pharaoh won't blush until he passes +Gertrude, so we shall lose that." + +"Josephs, indeed!" said Jane scornfully. + +"He loves you, Jane. Thin persons like a fine armful of a woman. +Pharaoh, who is a cad, likes blue blood on the same principle of +the attraction of opposites. That is why he is captivated by +Gertrude's aristocratic air." + +"If he only knew how she despises him!" + +"He is too vain to suspect it. Besides, Gertrude despises +everyone, even us. Or, rather, she doesn't despise anyone in +particular, but is contemptuous by nature, just as you are +stout." + +"Me! I had rather be stout than stuck-up. Ought we to bow?" + +"I will, certainly. I want to make Pharoah blush, if I can." + +The two parsons had been simulating an interest in the cloudy +firmament as an excuse for not looking at the girls until close +at hand. Jane sent an eyeflash at Josephs with a skill which +proved her favorite assertion that she was not so stupid as +people thought. He blushed and took off his soft, low-crowned +felt hat. Fairholme saluted very solemnly, for Agatha bowed to +him with marked seriousness. But when his gravity and his stiff +silk hat were at their highest point she darted a mocking smile +at him, and he too blushed, all the deeper because he was enraged +with himself for doing so. + +"Did you ever see such a pair of fools?" whispered Jane, +giggling. + +"They cannot help their sex. They say women are fools, and so +they are; but thank Heaven they are not quite so bad as men! I +should like to look back and see Pharaoh passing Gertrude; but if +he saw me he would think I was admiring him; and he is conceited +enough already without that." + +The two curates became redder and redder as they passed the +column of young ladies. Miss Lindsay would not look to their side +of the road, and Miss Wilson's nod and smile were not quite +sincere. She never spoke to curates, and kept up no more +intercourse with the vicar than she could not avoid. He suspected +her of being an infidel, though neither he nor any other mortal +in Lyvern had ever heard a word from her on the subject of her +religious opinions. But he knew that "moral science" was taught +secularly at the college; and he felt that where morals were made +a department of science the demand for religion must fall off +proportionately. + +"What a life to lead and what a place to live in!" exclaimed +Agatha. "We meet two creatures, more like suits of black than +men; and that is an incident --a startling incident--in our +existence!" + +"I think they're awful fun," said Jane, "except that Josephs has +such large ears." + +The girls now came to a place where the road dipped through a +plantation of sombre sycamore and horsechestnut trees. As they +passed down into it, a little wind sprang up, the fallen leaves +stirred, and the branches heaved a long, rustling sigh. + +"I hate this bit of road," said Jane, hurrying on. "It's just the +sort of place that people get robbed and murdered in." + +"It is not such a bad place to shelter in if we get caught in the +rain, as I expect we shall before we get back," said Agatha, +feeling the fitful breeze strike ominously on her cheek. "A nice +pickle I shall be in with these light shoes on! I wish I had put +on my strong boots. If it rains much I will go into the old +chalet." + +"Miss Wilson won't let you. It's trespassing." + +"What matter! Nobody lives in it, and the gate is off its hinges. +I only want to stand under the veranda--not to break into the +wretched place. Besides, the landlord knows Miss Wilson; he won't +mind. There's a drop." + +Miss Carpenter looked up, and immediately received a heavy +raindrop in her eye. + +"Oh!" she cried. "It's pouring. We shall be drenched." + +Agatha stopped, and the column broke into a group about her. + +"Miss Wilson," she said, "it is going to rain in torrents, and +Jane and I have only our shoes on." + +Miss Wilson paused to consider the situation. Someone suggested +that if they hurried on they might reach Lyvern before the rain +came down. + +"More than a mile," said Agatha scornfully, "and the rain coming +down already!" + +Someone else suggested returning to the college. + +"More than two miles," said Agatha. "We should be drowned." + +"There is nothing for it but to wait here under the trees," said +Miss Wilson. + +"The branches are very bare," said Gertrude anxiously. "If it +should come down heavily they will drip worse than the rain +itself." + +"Much worse," said Agatha. "I think we had better get under the +veranda of the old chalet. It is not half a minute's walk from +here." + +"But we have no right--" Here the sky darkened threateningly. +Miss Wilson checked herself and said, "I suppose it is still +empty." + +"Of course," replied Agatha, impatient to be moving. "It is +almost a ruin." + +"Then let us go there, by all means," said Miss Wilson, not +disposed to stand on trifles at the risk of a bad cold. + +They hurried on, and came presently to a green hill by the +wayside. On the slope was a dilapidated Swiss cottage, surrounded +by a veranda on slender wooden pillars, about which clung a few +tendrils of withered creeper, their stray ends still swinging +from the recent wind, now momentarily hushed as if listening for +the coming of the rain. Access from the roadway was by a rough +wooden gate in the hedge. To the surprise of Agatha, who had last +seen this gate off its hinges and only attached to the post by a +rusty chain and padlock, it was now rehung and fastened by a new +hasp. The weather admitting of no delay to consider these +repairs, she opened the gate and hastened up the slope, followed +by the troop of girls. Their ascent ended with a rush, for the +rain suddenly came down in torrents. + +When they were safe under the veranda, panting, laughing, +grumbling, or congratulating themselves on having been so close +to a place of shelter, Miss Wilson observed, with some +uneasiness, a spade--new, like the hasp of the gate--sticking +upright in a patch of ground that someone had evidently been +digging lately. She was about to comment on this sign of +habitation, when the door of the chalet was flung open, and Jane +screamed as a man darted out to the spade, which he was about to +carry in out of the wet, when he perceived the company under the +veranda, and stood still in amazement. He was a young laborer +with a reddish-brown beard of a week's growth. He wore corduroy +trousers and a linen-sleeved corduroy vest; both, like the hasp +and spade, new. A coarse blue shirt, with a vulgar red-and-orange +neckerchief, also new, completed his dress; and, to shield +himself from the rain, he held up a silk umbrella with a +silver-mounted ebony handle, which he seemed unlikely to have +come by honestly. Miss Wilson felt like a boy caught robbing an +orchard, but she put a bold face on the matter and said: + +"Will you allow us to take shelter here until the rain is over?" + +"For certain, your ladyship," he replied, respectfully applying +the spade handle to his hair, which was combed down to his +eyebrows. "Your ladyship does me proud to take refuge from the +onclemency of the yallovrments beneath my 'umble rooftree." His +accent was barbarous; and he, like a low comedian, seemed to +relish its vulgarity. As he spoke he came in among them for +shelter, and propped his spade against the wall of the chalet, +kicking the soil from his hobnailed blucher boots, which were +new. + +"I came out, honored lady," he resumed, much at his ease, "to +house my spade, whereby I earn my living. What the pen is to the +poet, such is the spade to the working man." He took the kerchief +from his neck, wiped his temples as if the sweat of honest toil +were there, and calmly tied it on again. + +"If you'll 'scuse a remark from a common man," he observed, "your +ladyship has a fine family of daughters." + +"They are not my daughters," said Miss Wilson, rather shortly. + +"Sisters, mebbe?" + +"No." + +"I thought they mout be, acause I have a sister myself. Not that +I would make bold for to dror comparisons, even in my own mind, +for she's only a common woman--as common a one as ever you see. +But few women rise above the common. Last Sunday, in yon village +church, I heard the minister read out that one man in a thousand +had he found, 'but one woman in all these,' he says, 'have I not +found,' and I thinks to myself, 'Right you are!' But I warrant he +never met your ladyship." + +A laugh, thinly disguised as a cough, escaped from Miss +Carpenter. + +"Young lady a-ketchin' cold, I'm afeerd," he said, with +respectful solicitude. + +"Do you think the rain will last long?" said Agatha politely. + +The man examined the sky with a weather-wise air for some +moments. Then he turned to Agatha, and replied humbly: "The Lord +only knows, Miss. It is not for a common man like me to say." + +Silence ensued, during which Agatha, furtively scrutinizing the +tenant of the chalet, noticed that his face and neck were cleaner +and less sunburnt than those of the ordinary toilers of Lyvern. +His hands were hidden by large gardening gloves stained with coal +dust. Lyvern laborers, as a rule, had little objection to soil +their hands; they never wore gloves. Still, she thought, there +was no reason why an eccentric workman, insufferably talkative, +and capable of an allusion to the pen of the poet, should not +indulge himself with cheap gloves. But then the silk, +silvermounted umbrella-- + +"The young lady's hi," he said suddenly, holding out the +umbrella, "is fixed on this here. I am well aware that it is not +for the lowest of the low to carry a gentleman's brolly, and I +ask your ladyship's pardon for the liberty. I come by it +accidental-like, and should be glad of a reasonable offer from +any gentleman in want of a honest article." + +As he spoke two gentlemen, much in want of the article, as their +clinging wet coats showed, ran through the gateway and made for +the chalet. Fairholme arrived first, exclaiming: "Fearful +shower!" and briskly turned his back to the ladies in order to +stand at the edge of the veranda and shake the water out of his +hat. Josephs came next, shrinking from the damp contact of his +own garments. He cringed to Miss Wilson, and hoped that she had +escaped a wetting. + +"So far I have," she replied. "The question is, how are we to get +home?" + +"Oh, it's only a shower," said Josephs, looking up cheerfully at +the unbroken curtain of cloud. "It will clear up presently." + +"It ain't for a common man to set up his opinion again' a +gentleman wot have profesh'nal knowledge of the heavens, as one +may say," said the man, "but I would 'umbly offer to bet my +umbrellar to his wideawake that it don't cease raining this side +of seven o'clock." + +"That man lives here," whispered Miss Wilson, "and I suppose he +wants to get rid of us." + +"H'm!" said Fairholme. Then, turning to the strange laborer with +the air of a person not to be trifled with, he raised his voice, +and said: "You live here, do you, my man?" + +"I do, sir, by your good leave, if I may make so bold." + +"What's your name?" + +"Jeff Smilash, sir, at your service." + +"Where do you come from?" + +"Brixtonbury, sir." + +"Brixtonbury! Where's that?" + +"Well, sir, I don't rightly know. If a gentleman like you, +knowing jography and such, can't tell, how can I?" + +"You ought to know where you were born, man. Haven't you got +common sense?" + +"Where could such a one as me get common sense, sir? Besides, I +was only a foundling. Mebbe I warn's born at all." + +"Did I see you at church last Sunday?" + +"No, sir. I only come o' Wensday." + +"Well, let me see you there next Sunday," said Fairholme shortly, +turning away from him. + +Miss Wilson looked at the weather, at Josephs, who was conversing +with Jane, and finally at Smilash, who knuckled his forehead +without waiting to be addressed. + +"Have you a boy whom you can send to Lyvern to get us a +conveyance--a carriage? I will give him a shilling for his +trouble." + +"A shilling!" said Smilash joyfully. "Your ladyship is a noble +lady. Two four-wheeled cabs. There's eight on you." + +"There is only one cab in Lyvern," said Miss Wilson. "Take this +card to Mr. Marsh, the jotmaster, and tell him the predicament we +are in. He will send vehicles." + +Smilash took the card and read it at a glance. He then went into +the chalet. Reappearing presently in a sou'wester and oilskins, +he ran off through the rain and vaulted over the gate with +ridiculous elegance. No sooner had he vanished than, as often +happens to remarkable men, he became the subject of conversation. + +"A decent workman," said Josephs. "A well-mannered man, +considering his class." + +"A born fool, though," said Fairholme. + +"Or a rogue," said Agatha, emphasizing the suggestion by a +glitter of her eyes and teeth, whilst her schoolfellows, rather +disapproving of her freedom, stood stiffly dumb. "He told Miss +Wilson that he had a sister, and that he had been to church last +Sunday, and he has just told you that he is a foundling, and that +he only came last Wednesday. His accent is put on, and he can +read, and I don't believe he is a workman at all. Perhaps he is a +burglar, come down to steal the college plate." + +"Agatha," said Miss Wilson gravely, "you must be very careful how +you say things of that kind." + +"But it is so obvious. His explanation about the umbrella was +made up to disarm suspicion. He handled it and leaned on it in a +way that showed how much more familiar it was to him than that +new spade he was so anxious about. And all his clothes are new." + +"True," said Fairholme, "but there is not much in all that. +Workmen nowadays ape gentlemen in everything. However, I will +keep an eye on him." + +"Oh, thank you so much," said Agatha. Fairholme, suspecting +mockery, frowned, and Miss Wilson looked severely at the mocker. +Little more was said, except as to the chances--manifestly +small--of the rain ceasing, until the tops of a cab, a decayed +mourning coach, and three dripping hats were seen over the hedge. +Smilash sat on the box of the coach, beside the driver. When it +stopped, he alighted, re-entered the chalet without speaking, +came out with the umbrella, spread it above Miss Wilson's head, +and said: + +"Now, if your ladyship will come with me, I will see you dry into +the stray, and then I'll bring your honored nieces one by one." + +"I shall come last," said Miss Wilson, irritated by his +assumption that the party was a family one. "Gertrude, you had +better go first." + +"Allow me," said Fairholme, stepping forward, and attempting to +take the umbrella. + +"Thank you, I shall not trouble you," she said frostily, and +tripped away over the oozing field with Smilash, who held the +umbrella over her with ostentatious solicitude. In the same +manner he led the rest to the vehicles, in which they packed +themselves with some difficulty. Agatha, who came last but one, +gave him threepence. + +"You have a noble 'art and an expressive hi, Miss," he said, +apparently much moved. "Blessings on both! Blessings on both!" + +He went back for Jane, who slipped on the wet grass and fell. He +had to put forth his strength as he helped her to rise. "Hope you +ain't sopped up much of the rainfall, Miss," he said. "You are a +fine young lady for your age. Nigh on twelve stone, I should +think." + +She reddened and hurried to the cab, where Agatha was. But it was +full; and Jane, much against her will, had to get into the coach, +considerably diminishing the space left for Miss Wilson, to whom +Smilash had returned. + +"Now, dear lady," he said, "take care you don't slip. Come +along." + +Miss Wilson, ignoring the invitation, took a shilling from her +purse. + +"No, lady," said Smilash with a virtuous air. "I am an honest man +and have never seen the inside of a jail except four times, and +only twice for stealing. Your youngest daughter--her with the +expressive hi--have paid me far beyond what is proper." + +"I have told you that these young ladies are not my daughters," +said Miss Wilson sharply. "Why do you not listen to what is said +to you?" + +"Don't be too hard on a common man, lady," said Smilash +submissively. "The young lady have just given me three +'arf-crowns." + +"Three half-crowns!" exclaimed Miss Wilson, angered at such +extravagance. + +"Bless her innocence, she don't know what is proper to give to a +low sort like me! But I will not rob the young lady. 'Arf-a-crown +is no more nor is fair for the job, and arf-a-crown will I keep, +if agreeable to your noble ladyship. But I give you back the five +bob in trust for her. Have you ever noticed her expressive hi?" + +"Nonsense, sir. You had better keep the money now that you have +got it." + +"Wot! Sell for five bob the high opinion your ladyship has of me! +No, dear lady; not likely. My father's very last words to me +was--" + +"You said just now that you were a foundling," said Fairholme. +"What are we to believe? Eh?" + +"So I were, sir; but by mother's side alone. Her ladyship will +please to take back the money, for keep it I will not. I am of +the lower orders, and therefore not a man of my word; but when I +do stick to it, I stick like wax." + +"Take it," said Fairholme to Miss Wilson. "Take it, of course. +Seven and sixpence is a ridiculous sum to give him for what he +has done. It would only set him drinking." + +"His reverence says true, lady. The one 'arfcrown will keep me +comfortably tight until Sunday morning; and more I do not +desire." + +"Just a little less of your tongue, my man," said Fairholme, +taking the two coins from him and handing them to Miss Wilson, +who bade the clergymen good afternoon, and went to the coach +under the umbrella. + +"If your ladyship should want a handy man to do an odd job up at +the college I hope you will remember me," Smilash said as they +went down the slope. + +"Oh, you know who I am, do you?" said Miss Wilson drily. + +"All the country knows you, Miss, and worships you. I have few +equals as a coiner, and if you should require a medal struck to +give away for good behavior or the like, I think I could strike +one to your satisfaction. And if your ladyship should want a +trifle of smuggled lace--" + +"You had better be careful or you will get into trouble, I +think," said Miss Wilson sternly. "Tell him to drive on." + +The vehicles started, and Smilash took the liberty of waving his +hat after them. Then he returned to the chalet, left the umbrella +within, came out again, locked the door, put the key in his +pocket, and walked off through the rain across the hill without +taking the least notice of the astonished parsons. + +In the meantime Miss Wilson, unable to contain her annoyance at +Agatha's extravagance, spoke of it to the girls who shared the +coach with her. But Jane declared that Agatha only possessed +threepence in the world, and therefore could not possibly have +given the man thirty times that sum. When they reached the +college, Agatha, confronted with Miss Wilson, opened her eyes in +wonder, and exclaimed, laughing: "I only gave him threepence. He +has sent me a present of four and ninepence!" + + + +CHAPTER IV + +Saturday at Alton College, nominally a half holiday, was really a +whole one. Classes in gymnastics, dancing, elocution, and drawing +were held in the morning. The afternoon was spent at lawn tennis, +to which lady guests resident in the neighborhood were allowed to +bring their husbands, brothers, and fathers--Miss Wilson being +anxious to send her pupils forth into the world free from the +uncouth stiffness of schoolgirls unaccustomed to society. + +Late in October came a Saturday which proved anything but a +holiday for Miss Wilson. At half-past one, luncheon being over, +she went out of doors to a lawn that lay between the southern +side of the college and a shrubbery. Here she found a group of +girls watching Agatha and Jane, who were dragging a roller over +the grass. One of them, tossing a ball about with her racket, +happened to drive it into the shrubbery, whence, to the surprise +of the company, Smilash presently emerged, carrying the ball, +blinking, and proclaiming that, though a common man, he had his +feelings like another, and that his eye was neither a stick nor a +stone. He was dressed as before, but his garments, soiled with +clay and lime, no longer looked new. + +"What brings you here, pray?" demanded Miss Wilson. + +"I was led into the belief that you sent for me, lady," he +replied. "The baker's lad told me so as he passed my 'umble cot +this morning. I thought he were incapable of deceit." + +"That is quite right; I did send for you. But why did you not go +round to the servants' hall?" + +"I am at present in search of it, lady. I were looking for it +when this ball cotch me here " (touching his eye). "A cruel blow +on the hi' nat'rally spires its vision and expression and makes a +honest man look like a thief." + +"Agatha," said Miss Wilson, "come here." + +"My dooty to you, Miss," said Smilash, pulling his forelock. + +"This is the man from whom I had the five shillings, which he +said you had just given him. Did you do so ?" + +"Certainly not. I only gave him threepence." + +"But I showed the money to your ladyship," said Smilash, twisting +his hat agitatedly. "I gev it you. Where would the like of me get +five shillings except by the bounty of the rich and noble? If the +young lady thinks I hadn't ort to have kep' the tother 'arfcrown, +I would not object to its bein' stopped from my wages if I were +given a job of work here. But--" + +"But it's nonsense," said Agatha. "I never gave you three +half-crowns." + +"Perhaps you mout 'a' made a mistake. Pence is summat similar to +'arf-crowns, and the day were very dark." + +"I couldn't have," said Agatha. "Jane had my purse all the +earlier part of the week, Miss Wilson, and she can tell you that +there was only threepence in it. You know that I get my money on +the first of every month. It never lasts longer than a week. The +idea of my having seven and sixpence on the sixteenth is +ridiculous." + +"But I put it to you, Miss, ain't it twice as ridiculous for me, +a poor laborer, to give up money wot I never got?" + +Vague alarm crept upon Agatha as the testimony of her senses was +contradicted. "All I know is," she protested, "that I did not +give it to you; so my pennies must have turned into half-crowns +in your pocket." + +"Mebbe so," said Smilash gravely. "I've heard, and I know it for +a fact, that money grows in the pockets of the rich. Why not in +the pockets of the poor as well? Why should you be su'prised at +wot 'appens every day?" + +"Had you any money of your own about you at the time?" + +"Where could the like of me get money?--asking pardon for making +so bold as to catechise your ladyship." + +"I don't know where you could get it," said Miss Wilson testily; +"I ask you, had you any?" + +"Well, lady, I disremember. I will not impose upon you. I +disremember." + +"Then you've made a mistake," said Miss Wilson, handing him back +his money. "Here. If it is not yours, it is not ours; so you had +better keep it." + +"Keep it! Oh, lady, but this is the heighth of nobility! And what +shall I do to earn your bounty, lady?" + +"It is not my bounty: I give it to you because it does not belong +to me, and, I suppose, must belong to you. You seem to be a very +simple man." + +"I thank your ladyship; I hope I am. Respecting the day's work, +now, lady; was you thinking of employing a poor man at all?" + +"No, thank you; I have no occasion for your services. I have also +to give you the shilling I promised you for getting the cabs. +Here it is." + +"Another shillin'!" cried Smilash, stupefied. + +"Yes," said Miss Wilson, beginning to feel very angry. "Let me +hear no more about it, please. Don't you understand that you have +earned it?" + +"I am a common man, and understand next to nothing," he replied +reverently. "But if your ladyship would give me a day's work to +keep me goin', I could put up all this money in a little wooden +savings bank I have at home, and keep it to spend when sickness +or odd age shall, in a manner of speaking, lay their 'ends upon +me. I could smooth that grass beautiful; them young ladies 'll +strain themselves with that heavy roller. If tennis is the word, +I can put up nets fit to catch birds of paradise in. If the +courts is to be chalked out in white, I can draw a line so +straight that you could hardly keep yourself from erecting an +equilateral triangle on it. I am honest when well watched, and I +can wait at table equal to the Lord Mayor o' London's butler." + +"I cannot employ you without a character," said Miss Wilson, +amused by his scrap of Euclid, and wondering where he had picked +it up. + +"I bear the best of characters, lady. The reverend rector has +known me from a boy." + +"I was speaking to him about you yesterday," said Miss Wilson, +looking hard at him, "and he says you are a perfect stranger to +him." + +"Gentlemen is so forgetful," said Smilash sadly. "But I alluded +to my native rector--meaning the rector of my native village, +Auburn. 'Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain,' as the +gentleman called it." + +"That was not the name you mentioned to Mr. Fairholme. I do not +recollect what name you gave, but it was not Auburn, nor have I +ever heard of any such place." + +"Never read of sweet Auburn!" + +"Not in any geography or gazetteer. Do you recollect telling me +that you have been in prison?" + +"Only six times," pleaded Smilash, his features working +convulsively. "Don't bear too hard on a common man. Only six +times, and all through drink. But I have took the pledge, and +kep' it faithful for eighteen months past." + +Miss Wilson now set down the man as one of those keen, +half-witted country fellows, contemptuously styled originals, who +unintentionally make themselves popular by flattering the sense +of sanity in those whose faculties are better adapted to +circumstances. + +"You have a bad memory, Mr. Smilash," she said good-humoredly. +"You never give the same account of yourself twice." + +"I am well aware that I do not express myself with exactability. +Ladies and gentlemen have that power over words that they can +always say what they mean, but a common man like me can't. Words +don't come natural to him. He has more thoughts than words, and +what words he has don't fit his thoughts. Might I take a turn +with the roller, and make myself useful about the place until +nightfall, for ninepence?" + +Miss Wilson, who was expecting more than her usual Saturday +visitors, considered the proposition and assented. "And +remember," she said, "that as you are a stranger here, your +character in Lyvern depends upon the use you make of this +opportunity." + +"I am grateful to your noble ladyship. May your ladyship's +goodness sew up the hole which is in the pocket where I carry my +character, and which has caused me to lose it so frequent. It's a +bad place for men to keep their characters in; but such is the +fashion. And so hurray for the glorious nineteenth century!" + +He took off his coat, seized the roller, and began to pull it +with an energy foreign to the measured millhorse manner of the +accustomed laborer. Miss Wilson looked doubtfully at him, but, +being in haste, went indoors without further comment. The girls +mistrusting his eccentricity, kept aloof. Agatha determined to +have another and better look at him. Racket in hand, she walked +slowly across the grass and came close to him just as he, unaware +of her approach, uttered a groan of exhaustion and sat down to +rest. + +"Tired already, Mr. Smilash?" she said mockingly. + +He looked up deliberately, took off one of his washleather +gloves, fanned himself with it, displaying a white and fine hand, +and at last replied, in the tone and with the accent of a +gentleman: + +"Very." + +Agatha recoiled. He fanned himself without the least concern. + +"You--you are not a laborer," she said at last. + +"Obviously not." + +"I thought not." + +He nodded. + +"Suppose I tell on you," she said, growing bolder as she +recollected that she was not alone with him. + +"If you do I shall get out of it just as I got out of the +half-crowns, and Miss Wilson will begin to think that you are +mad." + +"Then I really did not give you the seven and sixpence," she +said, relieved. + +"What is your own opinion?" he answered, taking three pennies +from his pocket, jingling them in his palm. "What is your name?" + +"I shall not tell you," said Agatha with dignity. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps you are right," he said. "I +would not tell you mine if you asked me." + +"I have not the slightest intention of asking you." + +"No? Then Smilash shall do for you, and Agatha will do for me." + +"You had better take care." + +"Of what?" + +"Of what you say, and--are you not afraid of being found out?" + +"I am found out already--by you, and I am none the worse." + +"Suppose the police find you out!" + +"Not they. Besides, I am not hiding from the police. I have a +right to wear corduroy if I prefer it to broadcloth. Consider the +advantages of it! It has procured me admission to Alton College, +and the pleasure of your acquaintance. Will you excuse me if I go +on with my rolling, just to keep up appearances? I can talk as I +roll." + +"You may, if you are fond of soliloquizing," she said, turning +away as he rose. + +"Seriously, Agatha, you must not tell the others about me." + +"Do not call me Agatha," she said impetuously. "What shall I call +you, then?" + +"You need not address me at all." + +"I need, and will. Don't be ill-natured." + +"But I don't know you. I wonder at your--" she hesitated at the +word which occurred to her, but, being unable to think of a +better one, used it--" at your cheek." + +He laughed, and she watched him take a couple of turns with the +roller. Presently, refreshing himself by a look at her, he caught +her looking at him, and smiled. His smile was commonplace in +comparison with the one she gave him in return, in which her +eyes, her teeth, and the golden grain in her complexion seemed to +flash simultaneously. He stopped rolling immediately, and rested +his chin on the handle of the roller. + +"If you neglect your work," said she maliciously, you won't have +the grass ready when the people come." + +"What people?" he said, taken aback. + +"Oh, lots of people. Most likely some who know you. There are +visitors coming from London: my guardian, my guardianess, their +daughter, my mother, and about a hundred more." + +"Four in all. What are they coming for? To see you?" + +"To take me away," she replied, watching for signs of +disappointment on his part. + +They were at once forthcoming. "What the deuce are they going to +take you away for?" he said. "Is your education finished ?" + +"No. I have behaved badly, and I am going to be expelled." + +He laughed again. "Come!" he said, "you are beginning to invent +in the Smilash manner. What have you done?" + +"I don't see why I should tell you. What have you done?" + +"I! Oh, I have done nothing. I am only an unromantic gentleman, +hiding from a romantic lady who is in love with me." + +"Poor thing," said Agatha sarcastically. "Of course, she has +proposed to you, and you have refused." + +"On the contrary, I proposed, and she accepted. That is why I +have to hide." + +"You tell stories charmingly," said Agatha. "Good-bye. Here is +Miss Carpenter coming to hear what we are taking about." + +"Good-bye. That story of your being expelled beats--Might a +common man make so bold as to inquire where the whitening machine +is, Miss?" + +This was addressed to Jane, who had come up with some of the +others. Agatha expected to see Smilash presently discovered, for +his disguise now seemed transparent; she wondered how the rest +could be imposed on by it. Two o'clock, striking just then, +reminded her of the impending interview with her guardian. A +tremor shook her, and she felt a craving for some solitary +hiding-place in which to await the summons. But it was a point of +honor with her to appear perfectly indifferent to her trouble, so +she stayed with the girls, laughing and chatting as they watched +Smilash intently marking out the courts and setting up the nets. +She made the others laugh too, for her hidden excitement, +sharpened by irrepressible shootings of dread, stimulated her, +and the romance of Smilash's disguise gave her a sensation of +dreaming. Her imagination was already busy upon a drama, of which +she was the heroine and Smilash the hero, though, with the real +man before her, she could not indulge herself by attributing to +him quite as much gloomy grandeur of character as to a wholly +ideal personage. The plot was simple, and an old favorite with +her. One of them was to love the other and to die broken-hearted +because the loved one would not requite the passion. For Agatha, +prompt to ridicule sentimentality in her companions, and gifted +with an infectious spirit of farce, secretly turned for +imaginative luxury to visions of despair and death; and often +endured the mortification of the successful clown who believes, +whilst the public roar with laughter at him, that he was born a +tragedian. There was much in her nature, she felt, that did not +find expression in her popular representation of the soldier in +the chimney. + +By three o'clock the local visitors had arrived, and tennis was +proceeding in four courts, rolled and prepared by Smilash. The +two curates were there, with a few lay gentlemen. Mrs. Miller, +the vicar, and some mothers and other chaperons looked on and +consumed light refreshments, which were brought out upon trays by +Smilash, who had borrowed and put on a large white apron, and was +making himself officiously busy. + +At a quarter past the hour a message came from Miss Wilson, +requesting Miss Wylie's attendance. The visitors were at a loss +to account for the sudden distraction of the young ladies' +attention which ensued. Jane almost burst into tears, and +answered Josephs rudely when he innocently asked what the matter +was. Agatha went away apparently unconcerned, though her hand +shook as she put aside her racket. + +In a spacious drawing-room at the north side of the college she +found her mother, a slight woman in widow's weeds, with faded +brown hair, and tearful eyes. With her were Mrs. Jansenius and +her daughter. The two elder ladies kept severely silent whilst +Agatha kissed them, and Mrs. Wylie sniffed. Henrietta embraced +Agatha effusively. + +"Where's Uncle John?" said Agatha. "Hasn't he come?" + +"He is in the next room with Miss Wilson," said Mrs. Jansenius +coldly. "They want you in there." + +"I thought somebody was dead," said Agatha, "you all look so +funereal. Now, mamma, put your handkerchief back again. If you +cry I will give Miss Wilson a piece of my mind for worrying you." + +"No, no," said Mrs. Wylie, alarmed. "She has been so nice!" + +"So good!" said Henrietta. + +"She has been perfectly reasonable and kind," said Mrs. +Jansenius. + +"She always is," said Agatha complacently. "You didn't expect to +find her in hysterics, did you?" + +"Agatha," pleaded Mrs. Wylie, "don't be headstrong and foolish." + +"Oh, she won't; I know she won't," said Henrietta coaxingly. +"Will you, dear Agatha?" + +"You may do as you like, as far as I am concerned," said Mrs. +Jansenius. "But I hope you have more sense than to throw away +your education for nothing." + +"Your aunt is quite right," said Mrs. Wylie. "And your Uncle John +is very angry with you. He will never speak to you again if you +quarrel with Miss Wilson." + +"He is not angry," said Henrietta, "but he is so anxious that you +should get on well." + +"He will naturally be disappointed if you persist in making a +fool of yourself," said Mrs. Jansenius. + +"All Miss Wilson wants is an apology for the dreadful things you +wrote in her book," said Mrs. Wylie. "You'll apologize, dear, +won't you?" + +"Of course she will," said Henrietta. + +"I think you had better," said Mrs. Jansenius. + +"Perhaps I will," said Agatha. + +"That's my own darling," said Mrs. Wylie, catching her hand. + +"And perhaps, again, I won't." + +"You will, dear," urged Mrs. Wylie, trying to draw Agatha, who +passively resisted, closer to her. "For my sake. To oblige your +mother, Agatha. You won't refuse me, dearest?" + +Agatha laughed indulgently at her parent, who had long ago worn +out this form of appeal. Then she turned to Henrietta, and said, +"How is your caro sposo? I think it was hard that I was not a +bridesmaid." + +The red in Henrietta's cheeks brightened. Mrs. Jansenius hastened +to interpose a dry reminder that Miss Wilson was waiting. + +"Oh, she does not mind waiting," said Agatha, "because she thinks +you are all at work getting me into a proper frame of mind. That +was the arrangement she made with you before she left the room. +Mamma knows that I have a little bird that tells me these things. +I must say that you have not made me feel any goody-goodier so +far. However, as poor Uncle John must be dreadfully frightened +and uncomfortable, it is only kind to put an end to his suspense. +Good-bye!" And she went out leisurely. But she looked in again to +say in a low voice: "Prepare for something thrilling. I feel just +in the humor to say the most awful things." She vanished, and +immediately they heard her tapping at the door of the next room. + +Mr. Jansenius was indeed awaiting her with misgiving. Having +discovered early in his career that his dignified person and fine +voice caused people to stand in some awe of him, and to move him +into the chair at public meetings, he had grown so accustomed to +deference that any approach to familiarity or irreverence +disconcerted him exceedingly. Agatha, on the other hand, having +from her childhood heard Uncle John quoted as wisdom and +authority incarnate, had begun in her tender years to scoff at +him as a pompous and purseproud city merchant, whose sordid mind +was unable to cope with her transcendental affairs. She had +habitually terrified her mother by ridiculing him with an +absolute contempt of which only childhood and extreme ignorance +are capable. She had felt humiliated by his kindness to her (he +was a generous giver of presents), and, with the instinct of an +anarchist, had taken disparagement of his advice and defiance of +his authority as the signs wherefrom she might infer surely that +her face was turned to the light. The result was that he was a +little tired of her without being quite conscious of it; and she +not at all afraid of him, and a little too conscious of it. + +When she entered with her brightest smile in full play, Miss +Wilson and Mr. Jansenius, seated at the table, looked somewhat +like two culprits about to be indicted. Miss Wilson waited for +him to speak, deferring to his imposing presence. But he was not +ready, so she invited Agatha to sit down. + +"Thank you," said Agatha sweetly. "Well, Uncle John, don't you +know me?" + +"I have heard with regret from Miss Wilson that you have been +very troublesome here," he said, ignoring her remark, though +secretly put out by it. + +"Yes," said Agatha contritely. "I am so very sorry." + +Mr. Jansenius, who had been led by Miss Wilson to expect the +utmost contumacy, looked to her in surprise. + +"You seem to think," said Miss Wilson, conscious of Mr. +Jansenius's movement, and annoyed by it, "that you may transgress +over and over again, and then set yourself right with us," (Miss +Wilson never spoke of offences as against her individual +authority, but as against the school community) "by saying that +you are sorry. You spoke in a very different tone at our last +meeting." + +"I was angry then, Miss Wilson. And I thought I had a +grievance--everybody thinks they have the same one. Besides, we +were quarrelling--at least I was; and I always behave badly when +I quarrel. I am so very sorry." + +"The book was a serious matter," said Miss Wilson gravely. "You +do not seem to think so." + +"I understand Agatha to say that she is now sensible of the folly +of her conduct with regard to the book, and that she is sorry for +it," said Mr. Jansenius, instinctively inclining to Agatha's +party as the stronger one and the least dependent on him in a +pecuniary sense. Have you seen the book?" said Agatha eagerly. + +"No. Miss Wilson has described what has occurred." + +"Oh, do let me get it," she cried, rising. "It will make Uncle +John scream with laughing. May I, Miss Wilson?" + +"There!" said Miss Wilson, indignantly. "It is this incorrigible +flippancy of which I have to complain. Miss Wylie only varies it +by downright insubordination." + +Mr. Jansenius too was scandalized. His fine color mounted at the +idea of his screaming. "Tut, tut!" he said, "you must be serious, +and more respectful to Miss Wilson. You are old enough to know +better now, Agatha--quite old enough." + +Agatha's mirth vanished. "What have I said What have I done?" +she asked, a faint purple spot appearing in her cheeks. + +"You have spoken triflingly of--of the volume by which Miss +Wilson sets great store, and properly so." + +"If properly so, then why do you find fault with me?" + +"Come, come," roared Mr. Jansenius, deliberately losing his +temper as a last expedient to subdue her, "don't be impertinent, +Miss." + +Agatha's eyes dilated; evanescent flushes played upon her cheeks +and neck; she stamped with her heel. "Uncle John," she cried, "if +you dare to address me like that, I will never look at you, never +speak to you, nor ever enter your house again. What do you know +about good manners, that you should call me impertinent? I will +not submit to intentional rudeness; that was the beginning of my +quarrel with Miss Wilson. She told me I was impertinent, and I +went away and told her that she was wrong by writing it in the +fault book. She has been wrong all through, and I would have said +so before but that I wanted to be reconciled to her and to let +bygones be bygones. But if she insists on quarrelling, I cannot +help it." + +"I have already explained to you, Mr. Jansenius," said Miss +Wilson, concentrating her resentment by an effort to suppress it, +"that Miss Wylie has ignored all the opportunities that have been +made for her to reinstate herself here. Mrs. Miller and I have +waived merely personal considerations, and I have only required a +simple acknowledgment of this offence against the college and its +rules." + +"I do not care that for Mrs. Miller," said Agatha, snapping her +fingers. "And you are not half so good as I thought." + +"Agatha," said Mr. Jansenius, "I desire you to hold your tongue." + +Agatha drew a deep breath, sat down resignedly, and said: "There! +I have done. I have lost my temper; so now we have all lost our +tempers." + +"You have no right to lose your temper, Miss," said Mr. +Jansenius, following up a fancied advantage. + +"I am the youngest, and the least to blame," she replied. "There +is nothing further to be said, Mr. Jansenius," said Miss Wilson, +determinedly. "I am sorry that Miss Wylie has chosen to break +with us." + +"But I have not chosen to break with you, and I think it very +hard that I am to be sent away. Nobody here has the least quarrel +with me except you and Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller is annoyed +because she mistook me for her cat, as if that was my fault! And +really, Miss Wilson, I don't know why you are so angry. All the +girls will think I have done something infamous if I am expelled. +I ought to be let stay until the end of the term; and as to the +Rec--the fault book, you told me most particularly when I first +came that I might write in it or not just as I pleased, and that +you never dictated or interfered with what was written. And yet +the very first time I write a word you disapprove of, you expel +me. Nobody will ever believe now that the entries are voluntary." + +Miss Wilson's conscience, already smitten by the coarseness and +absence of moral force in the echo of her own "You are +impertinent," from the mouth of Mr. Jansenius, took fresh alarm. +"The fault book," she said, "is for the purpose of recording +self-reproach alone, and is not a vehicle for accusations against +others." + +"I am quite sure that neither Jane nor Gertrude nor I reproached +ourselves in the least for going downstairs as we did, and yet +you did not blame us for entering that. Besides, the book +represented moral force--at least you always said so, and when +you gave up moral force, I thought an entry should be made of +that. Of course I was in a rage at the time, hut when I came to +myself I thought I had done right, and I think so still, though +it would perhaps have been better to have passed it over." + +"Why do you say that I gave up moral force?" + +"Telling people to leave the room is not moral force. Calling +them impertinent is not moral force." + +"You think then that I am bound to listen patiently to whatever +you choose to say to me, however unbecoming it may be from one in +your position to one in mine ?" + +"But I said nothing unbecoming," said Agatha. Then, breaking off +restlessly, and smiling again, she said: "Oh, don't let us argue. +I am very sorry, and very troublesome, and very fond of you and +of the college; and I won't come back next term unless you like." + +"Agatha," said Miss Wilson, shaken, "these expressions of regard +cost you so little, and when they have effected their purpose, +are so soon forgotten by you, that they have ceased to satisfy +me. I am very reluctant to insist on your leaving us at once. But +as your uncle has told you, you are old and sensible enough to +know the difference between order and disorder. Hitherto you have +been on the side of disorder, an element which was hardly known +here until you came, as Mrs. Trefusis can tell you. Nevertheless, +if you will promise to be more careful in future, I will waive +all past cause of complaint, and at the end of the term I shall +be able to judge as to your continuing among us." + +Agatha rose, beaming. "Dear Miss Wilson," she said, "you are so +good! I promise, of course. I will go and tell mamma." + +Before they could add a word she had turned with a pirouette to +the door, and fled, presenting herself a moment later in the +drawing-room to the three ladies, whom she surveyed with a +whimsical smile in silence. + +"Well?" said Mrs. Jansenius peremptorily. + +"Well, dear?" said Mrs. Trefusis, caressingly. + +Mrs. Wylie stifled a sob and looked imploringly at her daughter. + +"I had no end of trouble in bringing them to reason," said +Agatha, after a provoking pause. "They behaved like children, and +I was like an angel. I am to stay, of course." + +"Blessings on you, my darling," faltered Mrs. Wylie, attempting a +kiss, which Agatha dexterously evaded. + +"I have promised to be very good, and studious, and quiet, and +decorous in future. Do you remember my castanet song, Hetty? + +"'Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! lalala, la! la! la! Tra! +lalalalalalalalalalala!'" + +And she danced about the room, snapping her fingers instead of +castanets. + +"Don't be so reckless and wicked, my love," said Mrs. Wylie. "You +will break your poor mother's heart." + +Miss Wilson and Mr. Jansenius entered just then, and Agatha +became motionless and gazed abstractedly at a vase of flowers. +Miss Wilson invited her visitors to join the tennis players. Mr. +Jansenius looked sternly and disappointedly at Agatha, who +elevated her left eyebrow and depressed her right simultaneously; +but he, shaking his head to signify that he was not to be +conciliated by facial feats, however difficult or contrary to +nature, went out with Miss Wilson, followed by Mrs. Jansenius and +Mrs. Wylie. + +"How is your Hubby?" said Agatha then, brusquely, to Henrietta. + +Mrs. Trefusis's eyes filled with tears so quickly that, as she +bent her head to hide them, they fell, sprinkling Agatha's hand. + +"This is such a dear old place," she began. "The associations of +my girlhood--" + +"What is the matter between you and Hubby?" demanded Agatha, +interrupting her. "You had better tell me, or I will ask him when +I meet him." + +"I was about to tell you, only you did not give me time." + +"That is a most awful cram," said Agatha. "But no matter. Go on." + +Henrietta hesitated. Her dignity as a married woman, and the +reality of her grief, revolted against the shallow acuteness of +the schoolgirl. But she found herself no better able to resist +Agatha's domineering than she had been in her childhood, and much +more desirous of obtaining her sympathy. Besides, she had already +learnt to tell the story herself rather than leave its narration +to others, whose accounts did not, she felt, put her case in the +proper light. So she told Agatha of her marriage, her wild love +for her husband, his wild love for her, and his mysterious +disappearance without leaving word or sign behind him. She did +not mention the letter. + +"Have you had him searched for?" said Agatha, repressing an +inclination to laugh. + +"But where? Had I the remotest clue, I would follow him barefoot +to the end of the world." + +"I think you ought to search all the rivers--you would have to do +that barefoot. He must have fallen in somewhere, or fallen down +some place." + +"No, no. Do you think I should be here if I thought his life in +danger? I have reasons--I know that he is only gone away." + +"Oh, indeed! He took his portmanteau with him, did he? Perhaps he +has gone to Paris to buy you something nice and give you a +pleasant surprise." + +"No," said Henrietta dejectedly. "He knew that I wanted nothing." + +"Then I suppose he got tired of you and ran away." + +Henrietta's peculiar scarlet blush flowed rapidly over her cheeks +as she flung Agatha's arm away, exclaiming, "How dare you say so! +You have no heart. He adored me." + +"Bosh!" said Agatha. "People always grow tired of one another. I +grow tired of myself whenever I am left alone for ten minutes, +and I am certain that I am fonder of myself than anyone can be of +another person." + +"I know you are," said Henrietta, pained and spiteful. "You have +always been particularly fond of yourself." + +"Very likely he resembles me in that respect. In that case he +will grow tired of himself and come back, and you will both coo +like turtle doves until he runs away again. Ugh! Serve you right +for getting married. I wonder how people can be so mad as to do +it, with the example of their married acquaintances all warning +them against it." + +"You don't know what it is to love," said Henrietta, plaintively, +and yet patronizingly. "Besides, we were not like other couples." + +"So it seems. But never mind, take my word for it, he will return +to you as soon as he has had enough of his own company. Don't +worry thinking about him, but come and have a game at lawn +tennis." + +During this conversation they had left the drawing-room and made +a detour through the grounds. They were now approaching the +tennis courts by a path which wound between two laurel hedges +through the shrubbery. Meanwhile, Smilash, waiting on the guests +in his white apron and gloves (which he had positively refused to +take off, alleging that he was a common man, with common hands +such as born ladies and gentlemen could not be expected to take +meat and drink from), had behaved himself irreproachably until +the arrival of Miss Wilson and her visitors, which occurred as he +was returning to the table with an empty tray, moving so swiftly +that he nearly came into collision with Mrs. Jansenius. Instead +of apologizing, he changed countenance, hastily held up the tray +like a shield before his face, and began to walk backward from +her, stumbling presently against Miss Lindsay, who was running to +return a ball. Without heeding her angry look and curt rebuke, he +half turned, and sidled away into the shrubbery, whence the tray +presently rose into the air, flew across the laurel hedge, and +descended with a peal of stage thunder on the stooped shoulders +of Josephs. Miss Wilson, after asking the housekeeper with some +asperity why she had allowed that man to interfere in the +attendance, explained to the guests that he was the idiot of the +countryside. Mr. Jansenius laughed, and said that he had not seen +the man's face, but that his figure reminded him forcibly of some +one; he could not just then recollect exactly whom. + +Smilash, making off through the shrubbery, found the end of his +path blocked by Agatha and a young lady whose appearance alarmed +him more than had that of Mrs. Jansenius. He attempted to force +his tray through the hedge, but in vain; the laurel was +impenetrable, and the noise he made attracted the attention of +the approaching couple. He made no further effort to escape, but +threw his borrowed apron over his head and stood bolt upright +with his back against the bushes. + +"What is that man doing there?" said Henrietta, stopping +mistrustfully. + +Agatha laughed, and said loudly, so that he might hear: "It is +only a harmless madman that Miss Wilson employs. He is fond of +disguising himself in some silly way and trying to frighten us. +Don't be afraid. Come on." + +Henrietta hung back, but her arm was linked in Agatha's, and she +was drawn along in spite of herself. Smilash did not move. Agatha +strolled on coolly, and as she passed him, adroitly caught the +apron between her finger and thumb and twitched it from his face. +Instantly Henrietta uttered a piercing scream, and Smilash caught +her in his arms. + +"Quick," he said to Agatha, "she is fainting. Run for some water. +Run!" And he bent over Henrietta, who clung to him frantically. +Agatha, bewildered by the effect of her practical joke, hesitated +a moment, and then ran to the lawn. + +"What is the matter?" said Fairholme. + +"Nothing. I want some water--quick, please. Henrietta has fainted +in the shrubbery, that is all." + +"Please do not stir," said Miss Wilson authoritatively, "you will +crowd the path and delay useful assistance. Miss Ward, kindly get +some water and bring it to us. Agatha, come with me and point out +where Mrs. Trefusis is. You may come too, Miss Carpenter; you are +so strong. The rest will please remain where they are." + +Followed by the two girls, she hurried into the shrubbery, where +Mr. Jansenius was already looking anxiously for his daughter. He +was the only person they found there. Smilash and Henrietta were +gone. + +At first the seekers, merely puzzled, did nothing but question +Agatha incredulously as to the exact spot on which Henrietta had +fallen. But Mr. Jansenius soon made them understand that the +position of a lady in the hands of a half-witted laborer was one +of danger. His agitation infected them, and when Agatha +endeavored to reassure him by declaring that Smilash was a +disguised gentleman, Miss Wilson, supposing this to be a mere +repetition of her former idle conjecture, told her sharply to +hold her tongue, as the time was not one for talking nonsense. +The news now spread through the whole company, and the excitement +became intense. Fairholme shouted for volunteers to make up a +searching party. All the men present responded, and they were +about to rush to the college gates in a body when it Occurred to +the cooler among them that they had better divide into several +parties, in order that search might be made at once in different +quarters. Ten minutes of confusion followed. Mr. Jansenius +started several times in quest of Henrietta, and, when he had +gone a few steps, returned and begged that no more time should be +wasted. Josephs, whose faith was simple, retired to pray, and did +good, as far as it went, by withdrawing one voice from the din of +plans, objections, and suggestions which the rest were making; +each person trying to be heard above the others. + +At last Miss Wilson quelled the prevailing anarchy. Servants were +sent to alarm the neighbors and call in the village police. +Detachments were sent in various directions under the command of +Fairholme and other energetic spirits. The girls formed parties +among themselves, which were reinforced by male deserters from +the previous levies. Miss Wilson then went indoors and conducted +a search through the interior of the college. Only two persons +were left on the tennis ground--Agatha and Mrs. Jansenius, who +had been surprisingly calm throughout. + +"You need not be anxious," said Agatha, who had been standing +aloof since her rebuff by Miss Wilson. "I am sure there is no +danger. It is most extraordinary that they have gone away; but +the man is no more mad than I am, and I know he is a gentleman He +told me so." + +"Let us hope for the best," said Mrs. Jansenius, smoothly. "I +think I will sit down--I feel so tired. Thanks." (Agatha had +handed her a chair.) "What did you say he told you--this man?" + +Agatha related the circumstances of her acquaintance with +Smilash, adding, at Mrs. Jansenius's request, a minute +description of his personal appearance. Mrs. Jansenius remarked +that it was very singular, and that she was sure Henrietta was +quite safe. She then partook of claret-cup and sandwiches. +Agatha, though glad to find someone disposed to listen to her, +was puzzled by her aunt's coolness, and was even goaded into +pointing out that though Smilash was not a laborer, it did not +follow that he was an honest man. But Mrs. Jansenius only said: +"Oh, she is safe--quite safe! At least, of course, I can only +hope so. We shall have news presently," and took another +sandwich. + +The searchers soon began to return, baffled. A few shepherds, the +only persons in the vicinity, had been asked whether they had +seen a young lady and a laborer. Some of them had seen a young +woman with a basket of clothes, if that mout be her. Some thought +that Phil Martin the carrier would see her if anybody would. None +of them had any positive information to give. + +As the afternoon wore on, and party after party returned tired +and unsuccessful, depression replaced excitement; conversation, +no longer tumultuous, was carried on in whispers, and some of the +local visitors slipped away to their homes with a growing +conviction that something unpleasant had happened, and that it +would be as well not to be mixed up in it. Mr. Jansenius, though +a few words from his wife had surprised and somewhat calmed him, +was still pitiably restless and uneasy. + +At last the police arrived. At sight of their uniforms excitement +revived; there was a general conviction that something effectual +would be done now. But the constables were only mortal, and in a +few moments a whisper spread that they were fooled. They doubted +everything told them, and expressed their contempt for amateur +searching by entering on a fresh investigation, prying with the +greatest care into the least probable places. Two of them went +off to the chalet to look for Smilash. Then Fairholme, sunburnt, +perspiring, and dusty, but still energetic, brought back the +exhausted remnant of his party, with a sullen boy, who scowled +defiantly at the police, evidently believing that he was about to +be delivered into their custody. + +Fairholme had been everywhere, and, having seen nothing of the +missing pair, had come to the conclusion that they were nowhere. +He had asked everybody for information, and had let them know +that he meant to have it too, if it was to be had. But it was not +to be had. The sole resort of his labor was the evidence of the +boy whom he didn't believe. + +"'Im!" said the inspector, not quite pleased by Fairholme's zeal, +and yet overborne by it. "You're Wickens's boy, ain't you?" + +"Yes, I am Wickens's boy," said the witness, partly fierce, +partly lachrymose, "and I say I seen him, and if anyone sez I +didn't see him, he's a lie." + +"Come," said the inspector sharply, "give us none of your cheek, +but tell us what you saw, or you'll have to deal with me +afterwards." + +"I don't care who I deal with," said the boy, at bay. "I can't be +took for seein' him, because there's no lor agin it. I was in the +gravel pit in the canal meadow--" + +"What business had you there?" said the inspector, interrupting. + +"I got leave to be there," said the boy insolently, but +reddening. + +"Who gave you leave?" said the inspector, collaring him. "Ah," he +added, as the captive burst into tears, "I told you you'd have to +deal with me. Now hold your noise, and remember where you are and +who you're speakin' to; and perhaps I mayn't lock you up this +time. Tell me what you saw when you were trespassin' in the +meadow." + +"I sor a young 'omen and a man. And I see her kissin' him; and +the gentleman won't believe me." + +"You mean you saw him kissing her, more likely." + +"No, I don't. I know wot it is to have a girl kiss you when you +don't want. And I gev a screech to friken 'em. And he called me +and gev me tuppence, and sez, 'You go to the devil,' he sez, 'and +don't tell no one you seen me here, or else,' he sez, 'I might be +tempted to drownd you,' he sez, 'and wot a shock that would be to +your parents! ' 'Oh, yes, very likely,' I sez, jes' like that. +Then I went away, because he knows Mr. Wickens, and I was afeerd +of his telling on me." + +The boy being now subdued, questions were put to him from all +sides. But his powers of observation and description went no +further. As he was anxious to propitiate his captors, he answered +as often as possible in the affirmative. Mr. Jansenius asked him +whether the young woman he had seen was a lady, and he said yes. +Was the man a laborer? Yes--after a moment's hesitation. How was +she dressed? He hadn't taken notice. Had she red flowers in her +hat? Yes. Had she a green dress? Yes. Were the flowers in her hat +yellow? (Agatha's question.) Yes. Was her dress pink? Yes. Sure +it wasn't black? No answer. + +"I told you he was a liar," said Fairholme contemptuously. + +"Well, I expect he's seen something," said the inspector, "but +what it was, or who it was, is more than I can get out of him." + +There was a pause, and they looked askance upon Wickens's boy. +His account of the kissing made it almost an insult to the +Janseniuses to identify with Henrietta the person he had seen. +Jane suggested dragging the canal, but was silenced by an +indignant "sh-sh-sh," accompanied by apprehensive and sympathetic +glances at the bereaved parents. She was displaced from the focus +of attention by the appearance of the two policemen who had been +sent to the chalet. Smilash was between them, apparently a +prisoner. At a distance, he seemed to have suffered some +frightful injury to his head, but when he was brought into the +midst of the company it appeared that he had twisted a red +handkerchief about his face as if to soothe a toothache. He had a +particularly hangdog expression as he stood before the inspector +with his head bowed and his countenance averted from Mr. +Jansenius, who, attempting to scrutinize his features, could see +nothing but a patch of red handkerchief. + +One of the policemen described how they had found Smilash in the +act of entering his dwelling; how he had refused to give any +information or to go to the college, and had defied them to take +him there against his will; and how, on their at last proposing +to send for the inspector and Mr. Jansenius, he had called them +asses, and consented to accompany them. The policeman concluded +by declaring that the man was either drunk or designing, as he +could not or would not speak sensibly. + +"Look here, governor," began Smilash to the inspector, "I am a +common man--no commoner goin', as you may see for--" + +"That's 'im," cried Wickens's boy, suddenly struck with a sense +of his own importance as a witness. "That's 'im that the lady +kissed, and that gev me tuppence and threatened to drownd me." + +"And with a 'umble and contrite 'art do I regret that I did not +drownd you, you young rascal," said Smilash. "It ain't manners to +interrupt a man who, though common, might be your father for +years and wisdom." + +"Hold your tongue," said the inspector to the boy. "Now, Smilash, +do you wish to make any statement? Be careful, for whatever you +say may be used against you hereafter." + +"If you was to lead me straight away to the scaffold, colonel, I +could tell you no more than the truth. If any man can say that he +has heard Jeff Smilash tell a lie, let him stand forth." + +"We don't want to hear about that," said the inspector. "As you +are a stranger in these parts, nobody here knows any bad of you. +No more do they know any good of you neither." + +"Colonel," said Smilash, deeply impressed, "you have a +penetrating mind, and you know a bad character at sight. Not to +deceive you, I am that given to lying, and laziness, and +self-indulgence of all sorts, that the only excuse I can find for +myself is that it is the nature of the race so to be; for most +men is just as bad as me, and some of 'em worsen I do not speak +pers'nal to you, governor, nor to the honorable gentlemen here +assembled. But then you, colonel, are a hinspector of police, +which I take to be more than merely human; and as to the +gentlemen here, a gentleman ain't a man--leastways not a common +man--the common man bein' but the slave wot feeds and clothes the +gentleman beyond the common." + +"Come," said the inspector, unable to follow these observations, +"you are a clever dodger, but you can't dodge me. Have you any +statement to make with reference to the lady that was last seen +in your company?" + +"Take a statement about a lady!" said Smilash indignantly. "Far +be the thought from my mind!" + +"What have you done with her?" said Agatha, impetuously. "Don't +be silly." + +"You're not bound to answer that, you know," said the inspector, +a little put out by Agatha's taking advantage of her +irresponsible unofficial position to come so directly to the +point. "You may if you like, though. If you've done any harm, +you'd better hold your tongue. If not, you'd better say so." + +"I will set the young lady's mind at rest respecting her +honorable sister," said Smilash. "When the young lady caught +sight of me she fainted. Bein' but a young man, and not used to +ladies, I will not deny but that I were a bit scared, and that my +mind were not open to the sensiblest considerations. When she +unveils her orbs, so to speak, she ketches me round the neck, not +knowin' me from Adam the father of us all, and sez, 'Bring me +some water, and don't let the girls see me.' Through not 'avin' +the intelligence to think for myself, I done just what she told +me. I ups with her in my arms--she bein' a light weight and a +slender figure--and makes for the canal as fast as I could. When +I got there, I lays her on the bank and goes for the water. But +what with factories, and pollutions, and high civilizations of +one sort and another, English canal water ain't fit to sprinkle +on a lady, much less for her to drink. Just then, as luck would +have it, a barge came along and took her aboard, and--" + +"To such a thing," said Wickens's boy stubbornly, emboldened by +witnessing the effrontery of one apparently of his own class. "I +sor you two standin' together, and her a kissin' of you. There +worn's no barge." + +"Is the maiden modesty of a born lady to be disbelieved on the +word of a common boy that only walks the earth by the sufferance +of the landlords and moneylords he helps to feed?" cried Smilash +indignantly. "Why, you young infidel, a lady ain't made of common +brick like you. She don't know what a kiss means, and if she did, +is it likely that she'd kiss me when a fine man like the +inspector here would be only too happy to oblige her. Fie, for +shame! The barge were red and yellow, with a green dragon for a +figurehead, and a white horse towin' of it. Perhaps you're +color-blind, and can't distinguish red and yellow. The bargee was +moved to compassion by the sight of the poor faintin' lady, and +the offer of 'arf-a-crown, and he had a mother that acted as a +mother should. There was a cabin in that barge about as big as +the locker where your ladyship keeps your jam and pickles, and in +that locker the bargee lives, quite domestic, with his wife and +mother and five children. Them canal boats is what you may call +the wooden walls of England." + +"Come, get on with your story," said the inspector. "We know what +barges is as well as you." + +"I wish more knew of 'em," retorted Smilash; "perhaps it 'ud +lighten your work a bit. However, as I was sayin', we went right +down the canal to Lyvern, where we got off, and the lady she took +the railway omnibus and went away in it. With the noble +openhandedness of her class, she gave me sixpence; here it is, in +proof that my words is true. And I wish her safe home, and if I +was on the rack I could tell no more, except that when I got back +I were laid hands on by these here bobbies, contrary to the +British constitooshun, and if your ladyship will kindly go to +where that constitooshun is wrote down, and find out wot it sez +about my rights and liberties--for I have been told that the +working-man has his liberties, and have myself seen plenty took +with him --you will oblige a common chap more than his education +will enable him to express." + +"Sir," cried Mr. Jansenius suddenly, "will you hold up your head +and look me in the face?" + +Smilash did so, and immediately started theatrically, exclaiming, +"Whom do I see?" + +"You would hardly believe it," he continued, addressing the +company at large, "but I am well beknown to this honorable +gentleman. I see it upon your lips, governor, to ask after my +missus, and I thank you for your condescending interest. She is +well, sir, and my residence here is fully agreed upon between us. +What little cloud may have rose upon our domestic horizon has +past away; and, governor"---here Smilash's voice fell with graver +emphasis--"them as interferes betwixt man and wife now will incur +a nevvy responsibility. Here I am, such as you see me, and here I +mean to stay, likewise such as you see me. That is, if what you +may call destiny permits. For destiny is a rum thing, governor. I +came here thinking it was the last place in the world I should +ever set eyes on you in, and blow me if you ain't a'most the +first person I pops on." + +"I do not choose to be a party to this mummery of--" + +"Asking your leave to take the word out of your mouth, governor, +I make you a party to nothink. Respecting my past conduct, you +may out with it or you may keep it to yourself. All I say is that +if you out with some of it I will out with the rest. All or none. +You are free to tell the inspector here that I am a bad 'un. His +penetrating mind have discovered that already. But if you go into +names and particulars, you will not only be acting against the +wishes of my missus, but you will lead to my tellin' the whole +story right out afore everyone here, and then goin' away where no +one won't never find me." + +"I think the less said the better," said Mrs. Jansenius, uneasily +observant of the curiosity and surprise this dialogue was +causing. "But understand this, Mr.--" + +"Smilash, dear lady; Jeff Smilash." + +"Mr. Smilash, whatever arrangement you may have made with your +wife, it has nothing to do with me. You have behaved infamously, +and I desire to have as little as possible to say to you in +future! I desire to have nothing to say to you--nothing" said Mr. +Jansenius. "I look on your conduct as an insult to me, +personally. You may live in any fashion you please, and where you +please. All England is open to you except one place--my house. +Come, Ruth." He offered his arm to his wife; she took it, and +they turned away, looking about for Agatha, who, disgusted at the +gaping curiosity of the rest, had pointedly withdrawn beyond +earshot of the conversation. + +Miss Wilson looked from Smilash--who had watched Mr. Jansenius's +explosion of wrath with friendly interest, as if it concerned him +as a curious spectator only--to her two visitors as they +retreated. "Pray, do you consider this man's statement +satisfactory?" she said to them. "I do not." + +"I am far too common a man to be able to make any statement that +could satisfy a mind cultivated as yours has been," said Smilash, +"but I would 'umbly pint out to you that there is a boy yonder +with a telegram trying to shove hisself through the 'iborn +throng." + +"Miss Wilson!" cried the boy shrilly. + +She took the telegram; read it; and frowned. "We have had all our +trouble for nothing, ladies and gentlemen," she said, with +suppressed vexation. "Mrs. Trefusis says here that she has gone +back to London. She has not considered it necessary to add any +explanation." + +There was a general murmur of disappointment. + +"Don't lose heart, ladies," said Smilash. "She may be drowned or +murdered for all we know. Anyone may send a telegram in a false +name. Perhaps it's a plant. Let's hope for your sakes that some +little accident--on the railway, for instance--may happen yet." + +Miss Wilson turned upon him, glad to find someone with whom she +might justly be angry. "You had better go about your business," +she said. "And don't let me see you here again." + +"This is 'ard," said Smilash plaintively. "My intentions was +nothing but good. But I know wot it is. It's that young varmint +a-saying that the young lady kissed me." + +"Inspector," said Miss Wilson, "will you oblige me by seeing that +he leaves the college as soon as possible?" + +"Where's my wages?" he retorted reproachfully. "Where's my lawful +wages? I am su'prised at a lady like you, chock full o' moral +science and political economy, wanting to put a poor man off. +Where's your wages fund? Where's your remuneratory capital?" + +"Don't you give him anything, ma'am," said the inspector. "The +money he's had from the lady will pay him very well. Move on +here, or we'll precious soon hurry you." + +"Very well," grumbled Smilash. "I bargained for ninepence, and +what with the roller, and opening the soda water, and shoving +them heavy tables about, there was a decomposition of tissue in +me to the tune of two shillings. But all I ask is the ninepence, +and let the lady keep the one and threppence as the reward of +abstinence. Exploitation of labor at the rate of a hundred and +twenty-five per cent., that is. Come, give us ninepence, and I'll +go straight off." + +"Here is a shilling," said Miss Wilson. "Now go." + +"Threppence change!" cried Smilash. "Honesty has ever been--" + +"You may keep the change." + +"You have a noble 'art, lady; but you're flying in the face of +the law of supply and demand. If you keep payin' at this rate, +there'll be a rush of laborers to the college, and competition'll +soon bring you down from a shilling to sixpence, let alone +ninepence. That's the way wages go down and death rates goes up, +worse luck for the likes of hus, as has to sell ourselves like +pigs in the market." + +He was about to continue when the policeman took him by the arm, +turned him towards the gate, and pointed expressively in that +direction. Smilash looked vacantly at him for a moment. Then, +with a wink at Fairholme, he walked gravely away, amid general +staring and silence. + + + +CHAPTER V + +What had passed between Smilash and Henrietta remained unknown +except to themselves. Agatha had seen Henrietta clasping his neck +in her arms, but had not waited to hear the exclamation of +"Sidney, Sidney," which followed, nor to see him press her face +to his breast in his anxiety to stifle her voice as he said, "My +darling love, don't screech I implore you. Confound it, we shall +have the whole pack here in a moment. Hush!" + +"Don't leave me again, Sidney," she entreated, clinging faster to +him as his perplexed gaze, wandering towards the entrance to the +shrubbery, seemed to forsake her. A din of voices in that +direction precipitated his irresolution. + +"We must run away, Hetty," he said "Hold fast about my neck, and +don't strangle me. Now then." He lifted her upon his shoulder and +ran swiftly through the grounds. When they were stopped by the +wall, he placed her atop of it, scrabbled over, and made her jump +into his arms. Then he staggered away with her across the fields, +gasping out in reply to the inarticulate remonstrances which +burst from her as he stumbled and reeled at every hillock, "Your +weight is increasing at the rate of a stone a second, my love. If +you stoop you will break my back. Oh, Lord, here's a ditch!" + +"Let me down," screamed Henrietta in an ecstasy of delight and +apprehension. "You will hurt yourself, and--Oh, DO take--" + +He struggled through a dry ditch as she spoke, and came out upon +a grassy place that bordered the towpath of the canal. Here, on +the bank of a hollow where the moss was dry and soft, he seated +her, threw himself prone on his elbows before her, and said, +panting: + +"Nessus carrying off Dejanira was nothing to this! Whew! Well, my +darling, are you glad to see me?" + +"But--" + +"But me no buts, unless you wish me to vanish again and for ever. +Wretch that I am, I have longed for you unspeakably more than +once since I ran away from you. You didn't care, of course?" + +"I did. I did, indeed. Why did you leave me, Sidney?" + +"Lest a worse thing might befall. Come, don't let us waste in +explanations the few minutes we have left. Give me a kiss." + +"Then you are going to leave me again. Oh, Sidney--" + +"Never mind to-morrow, Hetty. Be like the sun and the meadow, +which are not in the least concerned about the coming winter. Why +do you stare at that cursed canal, blindly dragging its load of +filth from place to place until it pitches it into the sea--just +as a crowded street pitches its load into the cemetery? Stare at +ME, and give me a kiss." + +She gave him several, and said coaxingly, with her arm still upon +his shoulder: "You only talk that way to frighten me, Sidney; I +know you do." + +"You are the bright sun of my senses," he said, embracing her. "I +feel my heart and brain wither in your smile, and I fling them to +you for your prey with exultation. How happy I am to have a wife +who does not despise me for doing so--who rather loves me the +more!" + +"Don't be silly," said Henrietta, smiling vacantly. Then, stung +by a half intuition of his meaning, she repulsed him and said +angrily, "YOU despise ME." + +"Not more than I despise myself. Indeed, not so much; for many +emotions that seem base from within seem lovable from without." + +"You intend to leave me again. I feel it. I know it." + +"You think you know it because you feel it. Not a bad reason, +either." + +"Then you ARE going to leave me?" + +"Do you not feel it and know it? Yes, my cherished Hetty, I +assuredly am." + +She broke into wild exclamations of grief, and he drew her head +down and kissed her with a tender action which she could not +resist, and a wry face which she did not see. + +"My poor Hetty, you don't understand me." + +"I only understand that you hate me, and want to go away from +me." + +"That would be easy to understand. But the strangeness is that I +LOVE you and want to go away from you. Not for ever. Only for a +time." + +"But I don't want you to go away. I won't let you go away," she +said, a trace of fierceness mingling with her entreaty. "Why do +you want to leave me if you love me?" + +"How do I know? I can no more tell you the whys and wherefores of +myself than I can lift myself up by the waistband and carry +myself into the next county, as some one challenged a speculator +in perpetual motion to do. I am too much a pessimist to respect +my own affections. Do you know what a pessimist is?" + +"A man who thinks everybody as nasty as himself, and hates them +for it." + +"So, or thereabout. Modern English polite society, my native +sphere, seems to me as corrupt as consciousness of culture and +absence of honesty can make it. A canting, lie-loving, +fact-hating, scribbling, chattering, wealth-hunting, +pleasure-hunting, celebrity-hunting mob, that, having lost the +fear of hell, and not replaced it by the love of justice, cares +for nothing but the lion's share of the wealth wrung by threat of +starvation from the hands of the classes that create it. If you +interrupt me with a silly speech, Hetty, I will pitch you into +the canal, and die of sorrow for my lost love afterwards. You +know what I am, according to the conventional description: a +gentleman with lots of money. Do you know the wicked origin of +that money and gentility?" + +"Oh, Sidney; have you been doing anything?" + +"No, my best beloved; I am a gentleman, and have been doing +nothing. That a man can do so and not starve is nowadays not even +a paradox. Every halfpenny I possess is stolen money; but it has +been stolen legally, and, what is of some practical importance to +you, I have no means of restoring it to the rightful owners even +if I felt inclined to. Do you know what my father was?" + +"What difference can that make now? Don't be disagreeable and +full of ridiculous fads, Sidney dear. I didn't marry your +father." + +"No; but you married--only incidentally, of course--my father's +fortune. That necklace of yours was purchased with his money; and +I can almost fancy stains of blood " + +"Stop, Sidney. I don't like this sort of romancing. It's all +nonsense. DO be nice to me." + +"There are stains of sweat on it, I know." + +"You nasty wretch!" + +"I am thinking, not of you, my dainty one, but of the unfortunate +people who slave that we may live idly. Let me explain to you why +we are so rich. My father was a shrewd, energetic, and ambitious +Manchester man, who understood an exchange of any sort as a +transaction by which one man should lose and the other gain. He +made it his object to make as many exchanges as possible, and to +be always the gaining party in them. I do not know exactly what +he was, for he was ashamed both of his antecedents and of his +relatives, from which I can only infer that they were honest, +and, therefore, unsuccessful people. However, he acquired some +knowledge of the cotton trade, saved some money, borrowed some +more on the security of his reputation for getting the better of +other people in business, and, as he accurately told me +afterwards, started FOR HIMSELF. He bought a factory and some raw +cotton. Now you must know that a man, by laboring some time on a +piece of raw cotton, can turn it into a piece of manufactured +cotton fit for making into sheets and shifts and the like. The +manufactured cotton is more valuable than the raw cotton, because +the manufacture costs wear and tear of machinery, wear and tear +of the factory, rent of the ground upon which the factory is +built, and human labor, or wear and tear of live men, which has +to be made good by food, shelter, and rest. Do you understand +that?" + +"We used to learn all about it at college. I don't see what it +has to do with us, since you are not in the cotton trade." + +"You learned as much as it was thought safe to teach you, no +doubt; but not quite all, I should think. When my father started +for himself, there were many men in Manchester who were willing +to labor in this way, but they had no factory to work in, no +machinery to work with, and no raw cotton to work on, simply +because all this indispensable plant, and the materials for +producing a fresh supply of it, had been appropriated by earlier +comers. So they found themselves with gaping stomachs, shivering +limbs,, and hungry wives and children, in a place called their +own country, in which, nevertheless, every scrap of ground and +possible source of subsistence was tightly locked up in the hands +of others and guarded by armed soldiers and policemen. In this +helpless condition, the poor devils were ready to beg for access +to a factory and to raw cotton on any conditions compatible with +life. My father offered them the use of his factory, his +machines, and his raw cotton on the following conditions: They +were to work long and hard, early and late, to add fresh value to +his raw cotton by manufacturing it. Out of the value thus created +by them, they were to recoup him for what he supplied them with: +rent, shelter, gas, water, machinery, raw cotton--everything, and +to pay him for his own services as superintendent, manager, and +salesman. So far he asked nothing but just remuneration. But +after this had been paid, a balance due solely to their own labor +remained. 'Out of this,' said my father, 'you shall keep just +enough to save you from starving, and of the rest you shall make +me a present to reward me for my virtue in saving money. Such is +the bargain I propose. It is, in my opinion, fair and calculated +to encourage thrifty habits. If it does not strike you in that +light, you can get a factory and raw cotton for yourselves; you +shall not use mine.' In other words, they might go to the devil +and starve--Hobson's choice!--for all the other factories were +owned by men who offered no better terms. The Manchesterians +could not bear to starve or to see their children starve, and so +they accepted his terms and went into the factory. The terms, you +see, did not admit of their beginning to save for themselves as +he had done. Well, they created great wealth by their labor, and +lived on very little, so that the balance they gave for nothing +to my father was large. He bought more cotton, and more +machinery, and more factories with it; employed more men to make +wealth for him, and saw his fortune increase like a rolling +snowball. He prospered enormously, but the work men were no +better off than at first, and they dared not rebel and demand +more of the money they had made, for there were always plenty of +starving wretches outside willing to take their places on the old +terms. Sometimes he met with a check, as, for instance, when, in +his eagerness to increase his store, he made the men manufacture +more cotton than the public needed; or when he could not get +enough of raw cotton, as happened during the Civil War in +America. Then he adapted himself to circumstances by turning away +as many workmen as he could not find customers or cotton for; and +they, of course, starved or subsisted on charity. During the +war-time a big subscription was got up for these poor wretches, +and my father subscribed one hundred pounds, in spite, he said, +of his own great losses. Then he bought new machines; and, as +women and children could work these as well as men, and were +cheaper and more docile, he turned away about seventy out of +every hundred of his HANDS (so he called the men), and replaced +them by their wives and children, who made money for him faster +than ever. By this time he had long ago given up managing the +factories, and paid clever fellows who had no money of their own +a few hundreds a year to do it for him. He also purchased shares +in other concerns conducted on the same principle; pocketed +dividends made in countries which he had never visited by men +whom he had never seen; bought a seat in Parliament from a poor +and corrupt constituency, and helped to preserve the laws by +which he had thriven. Afterwards, when his wealth grew famous, he +had less need to bribe; for modern men worship the rich as gods, +and will elect a man as one of their rulers for no other reason +than that he is a millionaire. He aped gentility, lived in a +palace at Kensington, and bought a part of Scotland to make a +deer forest of. It is easy enough to make a deer forest, as trees +are not necessary there. You simply drive off the peasants, +destroy their houses, and make a desert of the land. However, my +father did not shoot much himself; he generally let the forest +out by the season to those who did. He purchased a wife of gentle +blood too, with the unsatisfactory result now before you. That is +how Jesse Trefusis, a poor Manchester bagman, contrived to be +come a plutocrat and gentleman of landed estate. And also how I, +who never did a stroke of work in my life, am overburdened with +wealth; whilst the children of the men who made that wealth are +slaving as their fathers slaved, or starving, or in the +workhouse, or on the streets, or the deuce knows where. What do +you think of that, my love?" + +"What is the use of worrying about it, Sidney? It cannot be +helped now. Besides, if your father saved money, and the others +were improvident, he deserved to make a fortune." + +"Granted; but he didn't make a fortune. He took a fortune that +others made. At Cambridge they taught me that his profits were +the reward of abstinence--the abstinence which enabled him to +save. That quieted my conscience until I began to wonder why one +man should make another pay him for exercising one of the +virtues. Then came the question: what did my father abstain from? +The workmen abstained from meat, drink, fresh air, good clothes, +decent lodging, holidays, money, the society of their families, +and pretty nearly everything that makes life worth living, which +was perhaps the reason why they usually died twenty years or so +sooner than people in our circumstances. Yet no one rewarded them +for their abstinence. The reward came to my father, who abstained +from none of these things, but indulged in them all to his +heart's content. Besides, if the money was the reward of +abstinence, it seemed logical to infer that he must abstain ten +times as much when he bad fifty thousand a year as when he had +only five thousand. Here was a problem for my young mind. +Required, something from which my father abstained and in which +his workmen exceeded, and which he abstained from more and more +as he grew richer and richer. The only thing that answered this +description was hard work, and as I never met a sane man willing +to pay another for idling, I began to see that these prodigious +payments to my father were extorted by force. To do him justice, +he never boasted of abstinence. He considered himself a +hard-worked man, and claimed his fortune as the reward of his +risks, his calculations, his anxieties, and the journeys he had +to make at all seasons and at all hours. This comforted me +somewhat until it occurred to me that if he had lived a century +earlier, invested his money in a horse and a pair of pistols, and +taken to the road, his object--that of wresting from others the +fruits of their labor without rendering them an equivalent--would +have been exactly the same, and his risk far greater, for it +would have included risk of the gallows. Constant travelling with +the constable at his heels, and calculations of the chances of +robbing the Dover mail, would have given him his fill of activity +and anxiety. On the whole, if Jesse Trefusis, M.P., who died a +millionaire in his palace at Kensington, had been a highwayman, I +could not more heartily loathe the social arrangements that +rendered such a career as his not only possible, but eminently +creditable to himself in the eyes of his fellows. Most men make +it their business to imitate him, hoping to become rich and idle +on the same terms. Therefore I turn my back on them. I cannot sit +at their feasts knowing how much they cost in human misery, and +seeing how little they produce of human happiness. What is your +opinion, my treasure?" + +Henrietta seemed a little troubled. She smiled faintly, and said +caressingly, "It was not your fault, Sidney. _I_ don't blame +you." + +"Immortal powers!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and +appealing to the skies, "here is a woman who believes that the +only concern all this causes me is whether she thinks any the +worse of me personally on account of it!" + +"No, no, Sidney. It is not I alone. Nobody thinks the worse of +you for it." + +"Quite so," he returned, in a polite frenzy. "Nobody sees any +harm in it. That is precisely the mischief of it." + +"Besides," she urged, "your mother belonged to one of the oldest +families in England." + +"And what more can man desire than wealth with descent from a +county family! Could a man be happier than I ought to be, sprung +as I am from monopolists of all the sources and instruments of +production--of land on the one side, and of machinery on the +other? This very ground on which we are resting was the property +of my mother's father. At least the law allowed him to use it as +such. When he was a boy, there was a fairly prosperous race of +peasants settled here, tilling the soil, paying him rent for +permission to do so, and making enough out of it to satisfy his +large wants and their own narrow needs without working themselves +to death. But my grandfather was a shrewd man. He perceived that +cows and sheep produced more money by their meat and wool than +peasants by their husbandry. So he cleared the estate. That is, +he drove the peasants from their homes, as my father did +afterwards in his Scotch deer forest. Or, as his tombstone has +it, he developed the resources of his country. I don't know what +became of the peasants; HE didn't know, and, I presume, didn't +care. I suppose the old ones went into the workhouse, and the +young ones crowded the towns, and worked for men like my father +in factories. Their places were taken by cattle, which paid for +their food so well that my grandfather, getting my father to take +shares in the enterprise, hired laborers on the Manchester terms +to cut that canal for him. When it was made, he took toll upon +it; and his heirs still take toll, and the sons of the navvies +who dug it and of the engineer who designed it pay the toll when +they have occasion to travel by it, or to purchase goods which +have been conveyed along it. I remember my grandfather well. He +was a well-bred man, and a perfect gentleman in his manners; but, +on the whole, I think he was wickeder than my father, who, after +all, was caught in the wheels of a vicious system, and had either +to spoil others or be spoiled by them. But my grandfather--the +old rascal!--was in no such dilemma. Master as he was of his bit +of merry England, no man could have enslaved him, and he might at +least have lived and let live. My father followed his example in +the matter of the deer forest, but that was the climax of his +wickedness, whereas it was only the beginning of my +grandfather's. Howbeit, whichever bears the palm, there they +were, the types after which we all strive." + +"Not all, Sidney. Not we two. I hate tradespeople and country +squires. We belong to the artistic and cultured classes, and we +can keep aloof from shopkeepers." + +"Living, meanwhile, at the rate of several thousand a year on +rent and interest. No, my dear, this is the way of those people +who insist that when they are in heaven they shall be spared the +recollection of such a place as hell, but are quite content that +it shall exist outside their consciousness. I respect my father +more--I mean I despise him less--for doing his own sweating and +filching than I do the sensitive sluggards and cowards who lent +him their money to sweat and filch with, and asked no questions +provided the interest was paid punctually. And as to your friends +the artists, they are the worst of all." + +"Oh, Sidney, you are determined not to be pleased. Artists don't +keep factories." + +"No; but the factory is only a part of the machinery of the +system. Its basis is the tyranny of brain force, which, among +civilized men, is allowed to do what muscular force does among +schoolboys and savages. The schoolboy proposition is: 'I am +stronger than you, therefore you shall fag for me.' Its grown up +form is: 'I am cleverer than you, therefore you shall fag for +me.' The state of things we produce by submitting to this, bad +enough even at first, becomes intolerable when the mediocre or +foolish descendants of the clever fellows claim to have inherited +their privileges. Now, no men are greater sticklers for the +arbitrary dominion of genius and talent than your artists. The +great painter is not satisfied with being sought after and +admired because his hands can do more than ordinary hands, which +they truly can, but he wants to be fed as if his stomach needed +more food than ordinary stomachs, which it does not. A day's work +is a day's work, neither more nor less, and the man who does it +needs a day's sustenance, a night's repose, and due leisure, +whether he be painter or ploughman. But the rascal of a painter, +poet, novelist, or other voluptuary in labor, is not content with +his advantage in popular esteem over the ploughman; he also wants +an advantage in money, as if there were more hours in a day spent +in the studio or library than in the field; or as if he needed +more food to enable him to do his work than the ploughman to +enable him to do his. He talks of the higher quality of his work, +as if the higher quality of it were of his own making--as if it +gave him a right to work less for his neighbor than his neighbor +works for him--as if the ploughman could not do better without +him than he without the ploughman--as if the value of the most +celebrated pictures has not been questioned more than that of any +straight furrow in the arable world--as if it did not take an +apprenticeship of as many years to train the hand and eye of a +mason or blacksmith as of an artist--as if, in short, the fellow +were a god, as canting brain worshippers have for years past been +assuring him he is. Artists arc the high priests of the modern +Moloch. Nine out of ten of them are diseased creatures, just sane +enough to trade on their own neuroses. The only quality o theirs +which extorts my respect is a certain sublime selfishness which +makes them willing to starve and to let their families starve +sooner than do any work they don't like." + +"INDEED you are quite wrong, Sidney. There was a girl at the +Slade school who supported her mother and two sisters by her +drawing. Besides, what can you do? People were made so." + +"Yes; I was made a landlord and capitalist by the folly of the +people; but they can unmake me if they will. Meanwhile I have +absolutely no means of escape from my position except by giving +away my slaves to fellows who will use them no better than I, and +becoming a slave myself; which, if you please, you shall not +catch me doing in a hurry. No, my beloved, I must keep my foot on +their necks for your sake as well as for my own. But you do not +care about all this prosy stuff. I am consumed with remorse for +having bored my darling. You want to know why I am living here +like a hermit in a vulgar two-roomed hovel instead of tasting the +delights of London society with my beautiful and devoted young +wife." + +"But you don't intend to stay here, Sidney?" + +"Yes, I do; and I will tell you why. I am helping to liberate +those Manchester laborers who were my father's slaves. To bring +that about, their fellow slaves all over the world must unite in +a vast international association of men pledged to share the +world's work justly; to share the produce of the work justly; to +yield not a farthing--charity apart--to any full-grown and +able-bodied idler or malingerer, and to treat as vermin in the +commonwealth persons attempting to get more than their share of +wealth or give less than their share of work. This is a very +difficult thing to accomplish, because working-men, like the +people called their betters, do not always understand their own +interests, and will often actually help their oppressors to +exterminate their saviours to the tune of 'Rule Britannia,' or +some such lying doggerel. We must educate them out of that, and, +meanwhile, push forward the international association of laborers +diligently. I am at present occupied in propagating its +principles. Capitalism, organized for repressive purposes under +pretext of governing the nation, would very soon stop the +association if it understood our aim, but it thinks that we are +engaged in gunpowder plots and conspiracies to assassinate +crowned heads; and so, whilst the police are blundering in search +of evidence of these, our real work goes on unmolested. Whether I +am really advancing the cause is more than I can say. I use heaps +of postage stamps, pay the expenses of many indifferent +lecturers, defray the cost of printing reams of pamphlets and +hand-bills which hail the laborer flatteringly as the salt of the +earth, write and edit a little socialist journal, and do what +lies in my power generally. I had rather spend my ill-gotten +wealth in this way than upon an expensive house and a retinue of +servants. And I prefer my corduroys and my two-roomed chalet here +to our pretty little house, and your pretty little ways, and my +pretty little neglect of the work that my heart is set upon. Some +day, perhaps, I will take a holiday; and then we shall have a new +honeymoon." + +For a moment Henrietta seemed about to cry. Suddenly she +exclaimed with enthusiasm: "I will stay with you, Sidney. I will +share your work, whatever it may be. I will dress as a dairymaid, +and have a little pail to carry milk in. The world is nothing to +me except when you are with me; and I should love to live here +and sketch from nature." + +He blenched, and partially rose, unable to conceal his dismay. +She, resolved not to be cast off, seized him and clung to him. +This was the movement that excited the derision of Wickens's boy +in the adjacent gravel pit. Trefusis was glad of the +interruption; and, when he gave the boy twopence and bade him +begone, half hoped that he would insist on remaining. But though +an obdurate boy on most occasions, he proved complaisant on this, +and withdrew to the high road, where he made over one of his +pennies to a phantom gambler, and tossed with him until recalled +from his dual state by the appearance of Fairholme's party. + +In the meantime, Henrietta urgently returned to her proposition. + +"We should be so happy," she said. "I would housekeep for you, +and you could work as much as you pleased. Our life would be a +long idyll." + +"My love," he said, shaking his head as she looked beseechingly +at him, "I have too much Manchester cotton in my constitution for +long idylls. And the truth is, that the first condition of work +with me is your absence. When you are with me, I can do nothing +but make love to you. You bewitch me. When I escape from you for +a moment, it is only to groan remorsefully over the hours you +have tempted me to waste and the energy you have futilized." + +"If you won't live with me you had no right to marry me." + +"True. But that is neither your fault nor mine. We have found +that we love each other too much-- that our intercourse hinders +our usefulness--and so we must part. Not for ever, my dear; only +until you have cares and business of your own to fill up your +life and prevent you from wasting mine." + +"I believe you are mad," she said petulantly. "The world is mad +nowadays, and is galloping to the deuce as fast as greed can goad +it. I merely stand out of the rush, not liking its destination. +Here comes a barge, the commander of which is devoted to me +because he believes that I am organizing a revolution for the +abolition of lock dues and tolls. We will go aboard and float +down to Lyvern, whence you can return to London. You had better +telegraph from the junction to the college; there must be a hue +and cry out after us by this time. You shall have my address, and +we can write to one another or see one another whenever we +please. Or you can divorce me for deserting you." + +"You would like me to, I know," said Henrietta, sobbing. + +"I should die of despair, my darling," he said complacently. +"Ship aho-o-o-y! Stop crying, Hetty, for God's sake. You lacerate +my very soul." + +"Ah-o-o-o-o-o-o-oy, master!" roared the bargee. + +"Good arternoon, sir," said a man who, with a short whip in his +hand, trudged beside the white horse that towed the barge. "Come +up!" he added malevolently to the horse. + +"I want to get on board, and go up to Lyvern with you," said +Trefusis. "He seems a well fed brute, that." + +"Better fed nor me," said the man. "You can't get the work out of +a hunderfed 'orse that you can out of a hunderfed man or woman. +I've bin in parts of England where women pulled the barges. They +come cheaper nor 'orses, because it didn't cost nothing to get +new ones when the old ones we wore out." + +"Then why not employ them?" said Trefusis, with ironical gravity. +"The principle of buying laborforce in the cheapest market and +selling its product in the dearest has done much to make +Englishmen--what they are." + +"The railway comp'nies keeps 'orspittles for the like of 'IM," +said the man, with a cunning laugh, indicating the horse by +smacking him on the belly with the butt of the whip. "If ever you +try bein' a laborer in earnest, governor, try it on four legs. +You'll find it far preferable to trying on two." + +"This man is one of my converts," said Trefusis apart to +Henrietta. "He told me the other day that since I set him +thinking he never sees a gentleman without feeling inclined to +heave a brick at him. I find that socialism is often +misunderstood by its least intelligent supporters and opponents +to mean simply unrestrained indulgence of our natural propensity +to heave bricks at respectable persons. Now I am going to carry +you along this plank. If you keep quiet, we may reach the barge. +If not, we shall reach the bottom of the canal." + +He carried her safely over, and exchanged some friendly words +with the bargee. Then he took Henrietta forward, and stood +watching the water as they were borne along noiselessly between +the hilly pastures of the country. + +"This would be a fairy journey," he said, "if one could forget +the woman down below, cooking her husband's dinner in a stifling +hole about as big as your wardrobe, and--" + +"Oh, don't talk any more of these things," she said crossly; "I +cannot help them. I have my own troubles to think of. HER husband +lives with her." + +"She will change places with you, my dear, if you make her the +offer." + +She had no answer ready. After a pause he began to speak +poetically of the scenery and to offer her loverlike speeches and +compliments. But she felt that he intended to get rid of her, and +he knew that it was useless to try to hide that design from her. +She turned away and sat down on a pile of bricks, only writhing +angrily when he pressed her for a word. As they neared the end of +her voyage, and her intense protest against desertion remained, +as she thought, only half expressed, her sense of injury grew +almost unbearable. + +They landed on a wharf, and went through an unswept, +deeply-rutted lane up to the main street of Lyvern. Here he +became Smilash again, walking deferentially a little before her, +as if she had hired him to point out the way. She then saw that +her last opportunity of appealing to him had gone by, and she +nearly burst into tears at the thought. It occurred to her that +she might prevail upon him by making a scene in public. But the +street was a busy one, and she was a little afraid of him. +Neither consideration would have checked her in one of her +ungovernable moods, but now she was in an abject one. Her moods +seemed to come only when they were harmful to her. She suffered +herself to be put into the railway omnibus, which was on the +point of starting from the innyard when they arrived there, and +though he touched his hat, asked whether she had any message to +give him, and in a tender whisper wished her a safe journey, she +would not look at or speak to him. So they parted, and he +returned alone to the chalet, where he was received by the two +policemen who subsequently brought him to the college. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The year wore on, and the long winter evenings set in. The +studious young ladies at Alton College, elbows on desk and hands +over ears, shuddered chillily in fur tippets whilst they loaded +their memories with the statements of writers on moral science, +or, like men who swim upon corks, reasoned out mathematical +problems upon postulates. Whence it sometimes happened that the +more reasonable a student was in mathematics, the more +unreasonable she was in the affairs of real life, concerning +which few trustworthy postulates have yet been ascertained. + +Agatha, not studious, and apt to shiver in winter, began to break +Rule No. 17 with increasing frequency. Rule No. 17 forbade the +students to enter the kitchen, or in any way to disturb the +servants in the discharge of their duties. Agatha broke it +because she was fond of making toffee, of eating it, of a good +fire, of doing any forbidden thing, and of the admiration with +which the servants listened to her ventriloquial and musical +feats. Gertrude accompanied her because she too liked toffee, and +because she plumed herself on her condescension to her inferiors. +Jane went because her two friends went, and the spirit of +adventure, the force of example, and the love of toffee often +brought more volunteers to these expeditions than Agatha thought +it safe to enlist. One evening Miss Wilson, going downstairs +alone to her private wine cellar, was arrested near the kitchen +by sounds of revelry, and, stopping to listen, overheard the +castanet dance (which reminded her of the emphasis with which +Agatha had snapped her fingers at Mrs. Miller), the bee on the +window pane, "Robin Adair" (encored by the servants), and an +imitation of herself in the act of appealing to Jane Carpenter's +better nature to induce her to study for the Cambridge Local. She +waited until the cold and her fear of being discovered spying +forced her to creep upstairs, ashamed of having enjoyed a silly +entertainment, and of conniving at a breach of the rules rather +than face a fresh quarrel with Agatha. + +There was one particular in which matters between Agatha and the +college discipline did not go on exactly as before. Although she +had formerly supplied a disproportionately large number of the +confessions in the fault book, the entry which had nearly led to +her expulsion was the last she ever made in it. Not that her +conduct was better--it was rather the reverse. Miss Wilson never +mentioned the matter, the fault book being sacred from all +allusion on her part. But she saw that though Agatha would not +confess her own sins, she still assisted others to unburden their +consciences. The witticisms with which Jane unsuspectingly +enlivened the pages of the Recording Angel were conclusive on +this point. + +Smilash had now adopted a profession. In the last days of autumn +he had whitewashed the chalet, painted the doors, windows, and +veranda, repaired the roof and interior, and improved the place +so much that the landlord had warned him that the rent would be +raised at the expiration of his twelvemonth's tenancy, remarking +that a tenant could not reasonably expect to have a pretty, +rain-tight dwelling-house for the same money as a hardly +habitable ruin. Smilash had immediately promised to dilapidate it +to its former state at the end of the year. He had put up a board +at the gate with an inscription copied from some printed cards +which he presented to persons who happened to converse with him. +_______________________________________________________ + + JEFFERSON SMILASH + +PAINTER, DECORATOR, GLAZIER, PLUMBER & GARDENER. Pianofortes +tuned. Domestic engineering in all its Branches. Families waited +upon at table or otherwise. + +CHAMOUNIX VILLA, LYVERN. (N.B. Advice Gratis. No Reasonable offer +refused.) _______________________________________________________ + + +The business thus announced, comprehensive as it was, did not +flourish. When asked by the curious for testimony to his +competence and respectability, he recklessly referred them to +Fairholme, to Josephs, and in particular to Miss Wilson, who, he +said, had known him from his earliest childhood. Fairholme, glad +of an opportunity to show that he was no mealy mouthed parson, +declared, when applied to, that Smilash was the greatest rogue in +the country. Josephs, partly from benevolence, and partly from a +vague fear that Smilash might at any moment take an action +against him for defamation of character, said he had no doubt +that he was a very cheap workman, and that it would be a charity +to give him some little job to encourage him. Miss Wilson +confirmed Fairholme's account; and the church organist, who had +tuned all the pianofortes in the neighborhood once a year for +nearly a quarter of a century, denounced the newcomer as Jack of +all trades and master of none. Hereupon the radicals of Lyvern, a +small and disreputable party, began to assert that there was no +harm in the man, and that the parsons and Miss Wilson, who lived +in a fine house and did nothing but take in the daughters of rich +swells as boarders, might employ their leisure better than in +taking the bread out of a poor work man's mouth. But as none of +this faction needed the services of a domestic engineer, he was +none the richer for their support, and the only patron he +obtained was a housemaid who was leaving her situation at a +country house in the vicinity, and wanted her box repaired, the +lid having fallen off. Smilash demanded half-a-crown for the job, +but on her demurring, immediately apologized and came down to a +shilling. For this sum he repainted the box, traced her initials +on it, and affixed new hinges, a Bramah lock, and brass handles, +at a cost to himself of ten shillings and several hours' labor. +The housemaid found fault with the color of the paint, made him +take off the handles, which, she said, reminded her of a coffin, +complained that a lock with such a small key couldn't be strong +enough for a large box, but admitted that it was all her own +fault for not employing a proper man. It got about that he had +made a poor job of the box; and as he, when taxed with this, +emphatically confirmed it, he got no other commission; and his +signboard served thenceforth only for the amusement of pedestrian +tourists and of shepherd boys with a taste for stone throwing. + +One night a great storm blew over Lyvern, and those young ladies +at Alton College who were afraid of lightning, said their prayers +with some earnestness. At half-past twelve the rain, wind, and +thunder made such a din that Agatha and Gertrude wrapped +themselves in shawls, stole downstairs to the window on the +landing outside Miss Wilson's study, and stood watching the +flashes give vivid glimpses of the landscape, and discussing in +whispers whether it was dangerous to stand near a window, and +whether brass stair-rods could attract lightning. Agatha, as +serious and friendly with a single companion as she was +mischievous and satirical before a larger audience, enjoyed the +scene quietly. The lightning did not terrify her, for she knew +little of the value of life, and fancied much concerning the +heroism of being indifferent to it. The tremors which the more +startling flashes caused her, only made her more conscious of her +own courage and its contrast with the uneasiness of Gertrude, who +at last, shrinking from a forked zigzag of blue flame, said: + +"Let us go back to bed, Agatha. I feel sure that we are not safe +here." + +"Quite as safe as in bed, where we cannot see anything. How the +house shakes! I believe the rain will batter in the windows +before--" + +"Hush," whispered Gertrude, catching her arm in terror. "What was +that?" + +"What?" + +"I am sure I heard the bell--the gate bell. Oh, do let us go back +to bed." + +"Nonsense! Who would be out on such a night as this? Perhaps the +wind rang it." + +They waited for a few moments; Gertrude trembling, and Agatha +feeling, as she listened in the darkness, a sensation familiar to +persons who are afraid of ghosts. Presently a veiled clangor +mingled with the wind. A few sharp and urgent snatches of it came +unmistakably from the bell at the gate of the college grounds. It +was a loud bell, used to summon a servant from the college to +open the gates; for though there was a porter's lodge, it was +uninhabited. + +"Who on earth can it be?" said Agatha. "Can't they find the +wicket, the idiots?" + +"Oh, I hope not! Do come upstairs, Agatha." + +"No, I won't. Go you, if you like." But Gertrude was afraid to go +alone. "I think I had better waken Miss Wilson, and tell her," +continued Agatha. "It seems awful to shut anybody out on such a +night as this." + +"But we don't know who it is." + +"Well, I suppose you are not afraid of them, in any case," said +Agatha, knowing the contrary, but recognizing the convenience of +shaming Gertrude into silence. + +They listened again. The storm was now very boisterous, and they +could not hear the bell. Suddenly there was a loud knocking at +the house door. Gertrude screamed, and her cry was echoed from +the rooms above, where several girls had heard the knocking also, +and had been driven by it into the state of mind which +accompanies the climax of a nightmare. Then a candle flickered on +the stairs, and Miss Wilson's voice, reassuringly firm, was +heard. + +"Who is that?" + +"It is I, Miss Wilson, and Gertrude. We have been watching the +storm, and there is some one knocking at the--" A tremendous +battery with the knocker, followed by a sound, confused by the +gale, as of a man shouting, interrupted her. + +"They had better not open the door," said Miss Wilson, in some +alarm. "You are very imprudent, Agatha, to stand here. You will +catch your death of--Dear me! What can be the matter? She hurried +down, followed by Agatha, Gertrude, and some of the braver +students, to the hall, where they found a few shivering servants +watching the housekeeper, who was at the keyhole of the house +door, querulously asking who was there. She was evidently not +heard by those without, for the knocking recommenced whilst she +was speaking, and she recoiled as if she had received a blow on +the mouth. Miss Wilson then rattled the chain to attract +attention, and demanded again who was there. + +"Let us in," was returned in a hollow shout through the keyhole. +"There is a dying woman and three children here. Open the door." + +Miss Wilson lost her presence of mind. To gain time, she replied, +"I--I can't hear you. What do you say?" + +"Damnation!" said the voice, speaking this time to some one +outside. "They can't hear." And the knocking recommenced with +increased urgency. Agatha, excited, caught Miss Wilson's dressing +gown, and repeated to her what the voice had said. Miss Wilson +had heard distinctly enough, and she felt, without knowing +clearly why, that the door must be opened, but she was almost +over-mastered by a vague dread of what was to follow. She began +to undo the chain, and Agatha helped with the bolts. Two of the +servants exclaimed that they were all about to be murdered in +their beds, and ran away. A few of the students seemed inclined +to follow their example. At last the door, loosed, was blown wide +open, flinging Miss Wilson and Agatha back, and admitting a +whirlwind that tore round the hall, snatched at the women's +draperies, and blew out the lights. Agatha, by a hash of +lightning, saw for an instant two men straining at the door like +sailors at a capstan. Then she knew by the cessation of the +whirlwind that they had shut it. Matches were struck, the candles +relighted, and the newcomers clearly perceived. + +Smilash, bareheaded, without a coat, his corduroy vest and +trousers heavy with rain; a rough-looking, middle-aged man, +poorly dressed like a shepherd, wet as Smilash, with the +expression, piteous, patient, and desperate, of one hard driven +by ill-fortune, and at the end of his resources; two little +children, a boy and a girl, almost naked, cowering under an old +sack that had served them as an umbrella; and, lying on the +settee where the two men had laid it, a heap of wretched wearing +apparel, sacking, and rotten matting, with Smilash's coat and +sou'wester, the whole covering a bundle which presently proved to +be an exhausted woman with a tiny infant at her breast. Smilash's +expression, as he looked at her, was ferocious. + +"Sorry fur to trouble you, lady," said the man, after glancing +anxiously at Smilash, as if he had expected him to act as +spokesman; "but my roof and the side of my house has gone in the +storm, and my missus has been having another little one, and I am +sorry to ill-convenience you, Miss; but--but--" + +"Inconvenience!" exclaimed Smilash. "It is the lady's privilege +to relieve you--her highest privilege!" + +The little boy here began to cry from mere misery, and the woman +roused herself to say, "For shame, Tom! before the lady," and +then collapsed, too weak to care for what might happen next in +the world. Smilash looked impatiently at Miss Wilson, who +hesitated, and said to him: + +"What do you expect me to do?" + +"To help us," he replied. Then, with an explosion of nervous +energy, he added: "Do what your heart tells you to do. Give your +bed and your clothes to the woman, and let your girls pitch their +books to the devil for a few days and make something for these +poor little creatures to wear. The poor have worked hard enough +to clothe THEM. Let them take their turn now and clothe the +poor." + +"No, no. Steady, master," said the man, stepping forward to +propitiate Miss Wilson, and evidently much oppressed by a sense +of unwelcomeness. "It ain't any fault of the lady's. Might I make +so bold as to ask you to put this woman of mine anywhere that may +be convenient until morning. Any sort of a place will do; she's +accustomed to rough it. Just to have a roof over her until I find +a room in the village where we can shake down." Here, led by his +own words to contemplate the future, he looked desolately round +the cornice of the hall, as if it were a shelf on which somebody +might have left a suitable lodging for him. + +Miss Wilson turned her back decisively and contemptuously on +Smilash. She had recovered herself. "I will keep your wife here," +she said to the man. "Every care shall be taken of her. The +children can stay too." + +"Three cheers for moral science!" cried Smilash, ecstatically +breaking into the outrageous dialect he had forgotten in his +wrath. "Wot was my words to you, neighbor, when I said we should +bring your missus to the college, and you said, ironical-like, +'Aye, and bloomin' glad they'll be to see us there.' Did I not +say to you that the lady had a noble 'art, and would show it when +put to the test by sech a calamity as this?" + +"Why should you bring my hasty words up again' me now, master, +when the lady has been so kind?" said the man with emotion. "I am +humbly grateful to you, Miss; and so is Bess. We are sensible of +the ill-convenience we--" + +Miss Wilson, who had been conferring with the housekeeper, cut +his speech short by ordering him to carry his wife to bed, which +he did with the assistance of Smilash, now jubilant. Whilst they +were away, one of the servants, bidden to bring some blankets to +the woman's room, refused,saying that she was not going to wait +on that sort of people. Miss Wilson gave her warning almost +fiercely to quit the college next day. This excepted, no ill-will +was shown to the refugees. The young ladies were then requested +to return to bed. + +Meanwhile the man, having laid his wife in a chamber palatial in +comparison with that which the storm had blown about her ears, +was congratulating her on her luck, and threatening the children +with the most violent chastisement if they failed to behave +themselves with strict propriety whilst they remained in that +house. Before leaving them he kissed his wife; and she, reviving, +asked him to look at the baby. He did so, and pensively +apostrophized it with a shocking epithet in anticipation of the +time when its appetite must be satisfied from the provision shop +instead of from its mother's breast. She laughed and cried shame +on him; and so they parted cheerfully. When he returned to the +hall with Smilash they found two mugs of beer waiting for them. +The girls had retired, and only Miss Wilson and the housekeeper +remained. + +"Here's your health, mum," said the man, before drinking; "and +may you find such another as yourself to help you when you're in +trouble, which Lord send may never come!" + +"Is your house quite destroyed?" said Miss Wilson. "Where will +you spend the night?" + +"Don't you think of me, mum. Master Smilash here will kindly put +me up 'til morning." + +"His health!" said Smilash, touching the mug with his lips. + +"The roof and south wall is browed right away," continued the +man, after pausing for a moment to puzzle over Smilash's meaning. +"I doubt if there's a stone of it standing by this." + +"But Sir John will build it for you again. You are one of his +herds, are you not?" + +"I am, Miss. But not he; he'll be glad it's down. He don't like +people livin' on the land. I have told him time and again that +the place was ready to fall; but he said I couldn't expect him to +lay out money on a house that he got no rent for. You see, Miss, +I didn't pay any rent. I took low wages; and the bit of a hut was +a sort of set-off again' what I was paid short of the other men. +I couldn't afford to have it repaired, though I did what I could +to patch and prop it. And now most like I shall be blamed for +letting it be blew down, and shall have to live in half a room in +the town and pay two or three shillin's a week, besides walkin' +three miles to and from my work every day. A gentleman like Sir +John don't hardly know what the value of a penny is to us +laborin' folk, nor how cruel hard his estate rules and the like +comes on us." + +"Sir John's health!" said Smilash, touching the mug as before. +The man drank a mouthful humbly, and Smilash continued, "Here's +to the glorious landed gentry of old England: bless 'em!" + +"Master Smilash is only jokin'," said the man apologetically. +"It's his way." + +"You should not bring a family into the world if you are so +poor," said Miss Wilson severely. "Can you not see that you +impoverish yourself by doing so--to put the matter on no higher +grounds." + +"Reverend Mr. Malthus's health!" remarked Smilash, repeating his +pantomime. + +"Some say it's the children, and some say it's the drink, Miss," +said the man submissively. "But from what I see, family or no +family, drunk or sober, the poor gets poorer and the rich richer +every day." + +"Ain't it disgustin' to hear a man so ignorant of the improvement +in the condition of his class?" said Smilash, appealing to Miss +Wilson. + +"If you intend to take this man home with you," she said, turning +sharply on him, "you had better do it at once." + +"I take it kind on your part that you ask me to do anythink, +after your up and telling Mr. Wickens that I am the last person +in Lyvern you would trust with a job." + +"So you are--the very last. Why don't you drink your beer?" + +"Not in scorn of your brewing, lady; but because, bein' a common +man, water is good enough for me." + +"I wish you good-night, Miss," said the man; "and thank you +kindly for Bess and the children." + +"Good-night," she replied, stepping aside to avoid any salutation +from Smilash. But he went up to her and said in a low voice, and +with the Trefusis manner and accent: + +"Good-night, Miss Wilson. If you should ever be in want of the +services of a dog, a man, or a domestic engineer, remind Smilash +of Bess and the children, and he will act for you in any of those +capacities." + +They opened the door cautiously, and found that the wind, +conquered by the rain, had abated. Miss Wilson's candle, though +it flickered in the draught, was not extinguished this time; and +she was presently left with the housekeeper, bolting and chaining +the door, and listening to the crunching of feet on the gravel +outside dying away through the steady pattering of the rain. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +Agatha was at this time in her seventeenth year. She had a lively +perception of the foibles of others, and no reverence for her +seniors, whom she thought dull, cautious, and ridiculously +amenable by commonplaces. But she was subject to the illusion +which disables youth in spite of its superiority to age. She +thought herself an exception. Crediting Mr. Jansenius and the +general mob of mankind with nothing but a grovelling +consciousness of some few material facts, she felt in herself an +exquisite sense and all-embracing conception of nature, shared +only by her favorite poets and heroes of romance and history. +Hence she was in the common youthful case of being a much better +judge of other people's affairs than of her own. At the +fellow-student who adored some Henry or Augustus, not from the +drivelling sentimentality which the world calls love, but because +this particular Henry or Augustus was a phoenix to whom the laws +that govern the relations of ordinary lads and lasses did not +apply, Agatha laughed in her sleeve. The more she saw of this +weakness in her fellows, the more satisfied she was that, being +forewarned, she was also forearmed against an attack of it on +herself, much as if a doctor were to conclude that he could not +catch smallpox because he had seen many cases of it; or as if a +master mariner, knowing that many ships are wrecked in the +British channel, should venture there without a pilot, thinking +that he knew its perils too well to run any risk of them. Yet, as +the doctor might hold such an opinion if he believed himself to +be constituted differently from ordinary men; or the shipmaster +adopt such a course under the impression that his vessel was a +star, Agatha found false security in the subjective difference +between her fellows seen from without and herself known from +within. When, for instance, she fell in love with Mr. Jefferson +Smilash (a step upon which she resolved the day after the storm), +her imagination invested the pleasing emotion with a sacredness +which, to her, set it far apart and distinct from the frivolous +fancies of which Henry and Augustus had been the subject, and she +the confidant. + +"I can look at him quite coolly and dispassionately," she said to +herself. "Though his face has a strange influence that must, I +know, correspond to some unexplained power within me, yet it is +not a perfect face. I have seen many men who are, strictly +speaking, far handsomer. If the light that never was on sea or +land is in his eyes, yet they are not pretty eyes--not half so +clear as mine. Though he wears his common clothes with a nameless +grace that betrays his true breeding at every step, yet he is not +tall, dark, and melancholy, as my ideal hero would be if I were +as great a fool as girls of my age usually are. If I am in love, +I have sense enough not to let my love blind my judgment." + +She did not tell anyone of her new interest in life. Strongest in +that student community, she had used her power with good-nature +enough to win the popularity of a school leader, and occasionally +with unscrupulousness enough to secure the privileges of a school +bully. Popularity and privilege, however, only satisfied her when +she was in the mood for them. Girls, like men, want to be petted, +pitied, and made much of, when they are diffident, in low +spirits, or in unrequited love. These are services which the weak +cannot render to the strong and which the strong will not render +to the weak, except when there is also a difference of sex. +Agatha knew by experience that though a weak woman cannot +understand why her stronger sister should wish to lean upon her, +she may triumph in the fact without understanding it, and give +chaff instead of consolation. Agatha wanted to be understood and +not to be chaffed. Finding herself unable to satisfy both these +conditions, she resolved to do without sympathy and to hold her +tongue. She had often had to do so before, and she was helped on +this occasion by a sense of the ridiculous appearance her passion +might wear in the vulgar eye. Her secret kept itself, as she was +supposed in the college to be insensible to the softer emotions. +Love wrought no external change upon her. It made her believe +that she had left her girlhood behind her and was now a woman +with a newly-developed heart capacity at which she would +childishly have scoffed a little while before. She felt ashamed +of the bee on the window pane, although it somehow buzzed as +frequently as before in spite of her. Her calendar, formerly a +monotonous cycle of class times, meal times, play times, and bed +time, was now irregularly divided by walks past the chalet and +accidental glimpses of its tenant. + +Early in December came a black frost, and navigation on the canal +was suspended. Wickens's boy was sent to the college with news +that Wickens's pond would bear, and that the young ladies should +be welcome at any time. The pond was only four feet deep, and as +Miss Wilson set much store by the physical education of her +pupils, leave was given for skating. Agatha, who was expert on +the ice, immediately proposed that a select party should go out +before breakfast next morning. Actions not in themselves virtuous +often appear so when performed at hours that compel early rising, +and some of the candidates for the Cambridge Local, who would not +have sacrificed the afternoon to amusement, at once fell in with +her suggestion. But for them it might never have been carried +out; for when they summoned Agatha, at half-past six next +morning, to leave her warm bed and brave the biting air, she +would have refused without hesitation had she not been shamed +into compliance by these laborious ones who stood by her bedside, +blue-nosed and hungry, but ready for the ice. When she had +dressed herself with much shuddering and chattering, they allayed +their internal discomfort by a slender meal of biscuits, got +their skates, and went out across the rimy meadows, past patient +cows breathing clouds of steam, to Wickens's pond. Here, to their +surprise, was Smilash, on electro-plated acme skates, practicing +complicated figures with intense diligence. It soon appeared that +his skill came short of his ambition; for, after several narrow +escapes and some frantic staggering, his calves, elbows, and +occiput smote the ice almost simultaneously. On rising ruefully +to a sitting posture he became aware that eight young ladies were +watching his proceedings with interest. + +"This comes of a common man putting himself above his station by +getting into gentlemen's skates," he said. "Had I been content +with a humble slide, as my fathers was, I should ha' been a +happier man at the present moment." He sighed, rose, touched his +hat to Miss Ward, and took off his skates, adding: "Good-morning, +Miss. Miss Wilson sent me word to be here sharp at six to put on +the young ladies' skates, and I took the liberty of trying a +figure or two to keep out the cold." + +"Miss Wilson did not tell me that she ordered you to come," said +Miss Ward. + +"Just like her to be thoughtful and yet not let on to be! She is +a kind lady, and a learned--like yourself, Miss. Sit yourself +down on the camp-stool. and give me your heel, if I may be so +bold as to stick a gimlet into it." + +His assistance was welcome, and Miss Ward allowed him to put on +her skates. She was a Canadian, and could skate well. Jane, the +first to follow her, was anxious as to the strength of the ice; +but when reassured, she acquitted herself admirably, for she was +proficient in outdoor exercises, and had the satisfaction of +laughing in the field at those who laughed at her in the study. +Agatha, contrary to her custom, gave way to her companions, and +her boots were the last upon which Smilash operated. + +"How d'you do, Miss Wylie?" he said, dropping the Smilash manner +now that the rest were out of earshot. + +"I am very well, thank you," said Agatha, shy and constrained. +This phase of her being new to him, he paused with her heel in +his hand and looked up at her curiously. She collected herself, +returned his gaze steadily, and said: "How did Miss Wilson send +you word to come? She only knew of our party at half-past nine +last night." + +"Miss Wilson did not send for me." + +"But you have just told Miss Ward that she did." + +"Yes. I find it necessary to tell almost as many lies now that I +am a simple laborer as I did when I was a gentleman. More, in +fact." + +"I shall know how much to believe of what you say in the future." + +"The truth is this. I am perhaps the worst skater in the world, +and therefore, according to a natural law, I covet the faintest +distinction on the ice more than immortal fame for the things in +which nature has given me aptitude to excel. I envy that large +friend of yours--Jane is her name, I think--more than I envy +Plato. I came down here this morning, thinking that the skating +world was all a-bed, to practice in secret." + +"I am glad we caught you at it," said Agatha maliciously, for he +was disappointing her. She wanted him to be heroic in his +conversation; and he would not. + +"I suppose so," he replied. "I have observed that Woman's dearest +delight is to wound Man's self-conceit, though Man's dearest +delight is to gratify hers. There is at least one creature lower +than Man. Now, off with you. Shall I hold you until your ankles +get firm?" + +"Thank you," she said, disgusted: "_I_ can skate pretty well, and +I don't think you could give me any useful assistance." And she +went off cautiously, feeling that a mishap would be very +disgraceful after such a speech. + +He stood on the shore, listening to the grinding, swaying sound +of the skates, and watching the growing complexity of the curves +they were engraving on the ice. As the girls grew warm and +accustomed to the exercise they laughed, jested, screamed +recklessly when they came into collision, and sailed before the +wind down the whole length of the pond at perilous speed. The +more animated they became, the gloomier looked Smilash. "Not +two-penn'orth of choice between them and a parcel of puppies," he +said; "except that some of them are conscious that there is a man +looking at them, although he is only a blackguard laborer. They +remind me of Henrietta in a hundred ways. Would I laugh, now, if +the whole sheet of ice were to burst into little bits under +them?" + +Just then the ice cracked with a startling report, and the +skaters, except Jane, skimmed away in all directions. + +"You are breaking the ice to pieces, Jane," said Agatha, calling +from a safe distance. "How can you expect it to bear your +weight?" + +"Pack of fools!" retorted Jane indignantly. "The noise only shows +how strong it is." + +The shock which the report had given Smilash answered him his +question. "Make a note that wishes for the destruction of the +human race, however rational and sincere, are contrary to +nature," he said, recovering his spirits. "Besides, what a +precious fool I should be if I were working at an international +association of creatures only fit for destruction! Hi, lady! One +word, Miss!" This was to Miss Ward, who had skated into his +neighborhood. "It bein' a cold morning, and me havin' a poor and +common circulation, would it be looked on as a liberty if I was +to cut a slide here or take a turn in the corner all to myself?" + +"You may skate over there if you wish," she said, after a pause +for consideration, pointing to a deserted spot at the leeward end +of the pond, where the ice was too rough for comfortable skating. + +"Nobly spoke!" he cried, with a grin, hurrying to the place +indicated, where, skating being out of the question, he made a +pair of slides, and gravely exercised himself upon them until his +face glowed and his fingers tingled in the frosty air. The time +passed quickly; when Miss Ward sent for him to take off her +skates there was a general groan and declaration that it could +not possibly be half-past eight o'clock yet. Smilash knelt before +the camp-stool, and was presently busy unbuckling and unscrewing. +When Jane's turn came, the camp-stool creaked beneath her weight. +Agatha again remonstrated with her, but immediately reproached +herself with flippancy before Smilash, to whom she wished to +convey an impression of deep seriousness of character. + +"Smallest foot of the lot," he said critically, holding Jane's +foot between his finger and thumb as if it were an art treasure +which he had been invited to examine. "And belonging to the +finest built lady." + +Jane snatched away her foot, blushed, and said: + +"Indeed! What next, I wonder?" + +"T'other 'un next," he said, setting to work on the remaining +skate. When it was off, he looked up at her, and she darted a +glance at him as she rose which showed that his compliment (her +feet were, in fact, small and pretty) was appreciated. + +"Allow me, Miss," he said to Gertrude, who was standing on one +leg, leaning on Agatha, and taking off her own skates. + +"No, thank you," she said coldly. "I don't need your assistance." + +"I am well aware that the offer was overbold," he replied, with a +self-complacency that made his profession of humility +exasperating. "If all the skates is off, I will, by Miss Wilson's +order, carry them and the camp-stool back to the college." + +Miss Ward handed him her skates and turned away. Gertrude placed +hers on the stool and went with Miss Ward. The rest followed, +leaving him to stare at the heap of skates and consider how he +should carry them. He could think of no better plan than to +interlace the straps and hang them in a chain over his shoulder. +By the time he had done this the young ladies were out of sight, +and his intention of enjoying their society during the return to +the college was defeated. They had entered the building long +before he came in sight of it. + +Somewhat out of conceit with his folly, he went to the servants' +entrance and rang the bell there. When the door was opened, he +saw Miss Ward standing behind the maid who admitted him. + +"Oh," she said, looking at the string of skates as if she had +hardly expected to see them again, "so you have brought our +things back?" + +"Such were my instructions," he said, taken aback by her manner. +"You had no instructions. What do you mean by getting our skates +into your charge under false pretences? I was about to send the +police to take them from you. How dare you tell me that you were +sent to wait on me, when you know very well that you were nothing +of the sort?" + +"I couldn't help it, Miss," he replied submissively. "I am a +natural born liar--always was. I know that it must appear +dreadful to you that never told a lie, and don't hardly know what +a lie is, belonging as you do to a class where none is ever told. +But common people like me tells lies just as a duck swims. I ask +your pardon, Miss, most humble, and I hope the young ladies'll be +able to tell one set of skates from t'other; for I'm blest if I +can." + +"Put them down. Miss Wilson wishes to speak to you before you go. +Susan, show him the way." + +"Hope you ain't been and got a poor cove into trouble, Miss?" + +"Miss Wilson knows how you have behaved." + +He smiled at her benevolently and followed Susan upstairs. On +their way they met Jane, who stole a glance at him, and was about +to pass by, when he said: + +"Won't you say a word to Miss Wilson for a poor common fellow, +honored young lady? I have got into dreadful trouble for having +made bold to assist you this morning." + +"You needn't give yourself the pains to talk like that," replied +Jane in an impetuous whisper. "We all know that you're only +pretending." + +"Well, you can guess my motive," he whispered, looking tenderly +at her. + +"Such stuff and nonsense! I never heard of such a thing in my +life," said Jane, and ran away, plainly understanding that he had +disguised himself in order to obtain admission to the college and +enjoy the happiness of looking at her. + +"Cursed fool that I am!" he said to himself; "I cannot act like a +rational creature for five consecutive minutes." + +The servant led him to the study and announced, "The man, if you +please, ma'am." + +"Jeff Smilash," he added in explanation. + +"Come in," said Miss Wilson sternly. + +He went in, and met the determined frown which she cast on him +from her seat behind the writing table, by saying courteously: + +"Good-morning, Miss Wilson." + +She bent forward involuntarily, as if to receive a gentleman. +Then she checked herself and looked implacable. + +"I have to apologize," he said, "for making use of your name +unwarrantably this morning--telling a lie, in fact. I happened to +be skating when the young ladies came down, and as they needed +some assistance which they would hardly have accepted from a +common man--excuse my borrowing that tiresome expression from our +acquaintance Smilash--I set their minds at ease by saying that +you had sent for me. Otherwise, as you have given me a bad +character--though not worse than I deserve--they would probably +have refused to employ me, or at least I should have been +compelled to accept payment, which I, of course, do not need." + +Miss Wilson affected surprise. "I do not understand you," she +said. + +"Not altogether," he said smiling. "But you understand that I am +what is called a gentleman." + +"No. The gentlemen with whom I am conversant do not dress as you +dress, nor speak as you speak, nor act as you act." + +He looked at her, and her countenance confirmed the hostility of +her tone. He instantly relapsed into an aggravated phase of +Smilash. + +"I will no longer attempt to set myself up as a gentleman," he +said. "I am a common man, and your ladyship's hi recognizes me as +such and is not to be deceived. But don't go for to say that I am +not candid when I am as candid as ever you will let me be. What +fault, if any, do you find with my putting the skates on the +young ladies, and carryin' the campstool for them?" + +"If you are a gentleman," said Miss Wilson, reddening, "your +conduct in persisting in these antics in my presence is insulting +to me. Extremely so." + +"Miss Wilson," he replied, unruffled, "if you insist on Smilash, +you shall have Smilash; I take an insane pleasure in personating +him. If you want Sidney--my real Christian name--you can command +him. But allow me to say that you must have either one or the +other. If you become frank with me, I will understand that you +are addressing Sidney. If distant and severe, Smilash." + +"No matter what your name may be," said Miss Wilson, much +annoyed, "I forbid you to come here or to hold any communication +whatever with the young ladies in my charge." + +"Why?" + +"Because I choose." + +"There is much force in that reason, Miss Wilson; but it is not +moral force in the sense conveyed by your college prospectus, +which I have read with great interest." + +Miss Wilson, since her quarrel with Agatha, had been sore on the +subject of moral force. "No one is admitted here," she said, +"without a trustworthy introduction or recommendation. A disguise +is not a satisfactory substitute for either." + +"Disguises are generally assumed for the purpose of concealing +crime," he remarked sententiously. + +"Precisely so," she said emphatically. + +"Therefore, I bear, to say the least, a doubtful character. +Nevertheless, I have formed with some of the students here a +slight acquaintance, of which, it seems, you disapprove. You have +given me no good reason why I should discontinue that +acquaintance, and you cannot control me except by your wish--a +sort of influence not usually effective with doubtful characters. +Suppose I disregard your wish, and that one or two of your pupils +come to you and say: 'Miss Wilson, in our opinion Smilash is an +excellent fellow; we find his conversation most improving. As it +is your principle to allow us to exercise our own judgment, we +intend to cultivate the acquaintance of Smilash.' How will you +act in that case?" + +"Send them home to their parents at once." + +"I see that your principles are those of the Church of England. +You allow the students the right of private judgment on condition +that they arrive at the same conclusions as you. Excuse my saying +that the principles of the Church of England, however excellent, +are not those your prospectus led me to hope for. Your plan is +coercion, stark and simple." + +"I do not admit it," said Miss Wilson, ready to argue, even with +Smilash, in defence of her system. "The girls are quite at +liberty to act as they please, but I reserve my equal liberty to +exclude them from my college if I do not approve of their +behavior." + +"Just so. In most schools children are perfectly at liberty to +learn their lessons or not, just as they please; but the +principal reserves an equal liberty to whip them if they cannot +repeat their tasks." + +"I do not whip my pupils," said Miss Wilson indignantly. "The +comparison is an outrage." + +"But you expel them; and, as they are devoted to you and to the +place, expulsion is a dreaded punishment. Yours is the old system +of making laws and enforcing them by penalties, and the +superiority of Alton College to other colleges is due, not to any +difference of system, but to the comparative reasonableness of +its laws and the mildness and judgment with which they are +enforced." + +"My system is radically different from the old one. However, I +will not discuss the matter with you. A mind occupied with the +prejudices of the old coercive despotism can naturally only see +in the new a modification of the old, instead of, as my system +is, an entire reversal or abandonment of it." + +He shook his head sadly and said: "You seek to impose your ideas +on others, ostracizing those who reject them. Believe me, mankind +has been doing nothing else ever since it began to pay some +attention to ideas. It has been said that a benevolent despotism +is the best possible form of government. I do not believe that +saying, because I believe another one to the effect that hell is +paved with benevolence, which most people, the proverb being too +deep for them, misinterpret as unfulfilled intentions. As if a +benevolent despot might not by any error of judgment destroy his +kingdom, and then say, like Romeo when he got his friend killed, +'I thought all for the best!' Excuse my rambling. I meant to say, +in short, that though you are benevolent and judicious you are +none the less a despot." + +Miss Wilson, at a loss for a reply, regretted that she had not, +before letting him gain so far on her, dismissed him summarily +instead of tolerating a discussion which she did not know how to +end with dignity. He relieved her by adding unexpectedly: + +"Your system was the cause of my absurd marriage. My wife +acquired a degree of culture and reasonableness from her training +here which made her seem a superior being among the chatterers +who form the female seasoning in ordinary society. I admired her +dark eyes, and was only too glad to seize the excuse her +education offered me for believing her a match for me in mind as +well as in body." + +Miss Wilson, astonished, determined to tell him coldly that her +time was valuable. But curiosity took possession of her in the +act of utterance, and the words that came were, "Who was she?" + +"Henrietta Jansenius. She is Henrietta Trefusis, and I am Sidney +Trefusis, at your mercy. I see I have aroused your compassion at +last." + +"Nonsense!" said Miss Wilson hastily; for her surprise was indeed +tinged by a feeling that he was thrown away on Henrietta. + +"I ran away from her and adopted this retreat and this disguise +in order to avoid her. The usual rebuke to human forethought +followed. I ran straight into her arms--or rather she ran into +mine. You remember the scene, and were probably puzzled by it." + +"You seem to think your marriage contract a very light matter, +Mr. Trefusis. May I ask whose fault was the separation? Hers, of +course." + +"I have nothing to reproach her with. I expected to find her +temper hasty, but it was not so--her behavior was +unexceptionable. So was mine. Our bliss was perfect, but +unfortunately, I was not made for domestic bliss--at all events I +could not endure it--so I fled, and when she caught me again I +could give no excuse for my flight, though I made it clear to her +that I would not resume our connubial relations just yet. We +parted on bad terms. I fully intended to write her a sweet letter +to make her forgive me in spite of herself, but somehow the weeks +have slipped away and I am still fully intending. She has never +written, and I have never written. This is a pretty state of +things, isn't it, Miss Wilson, after all her advantages under the +influence of moral force and the movement for the higher +education of women?" + +"By your own admission, the fault seems to lie upon your moral +training and not upon hers." + +"The fault was in the conditions of our association. Why they +should have attracted me so strongly at first, and repelled me so +horribly afterwards, is one of those devil's riddles which will +not be answered until we shall have traced all the yet +unsuspected reactions of our inveterate dishonesty. But I am +wasting your time, I fear. You sent for Smilash, and I have +responded by practically annihilating him. In public, however, +you must still bear with his antics. One moment more. I had +forgotten to ask you whether you are interested in the shepherd +whose wife you sheltered on the night of the storm?" + +"He assured me, before he took his wife away, that he was +comfortably settled in a lodging in Lyvern." + +"Yes. Very comfortably settled indeed. For half-a-crown a week he +obtained permission to share a spacious drawing-room with two +other families in a ten-roomed house in not much better repair +than his blown-down hovel. This house yields to its landlord over +two hundred a year, or rather more than the rent of a commodious +mansion in South Kensington. It is a troublesome rent to collect, +but on the other hand there is no expenditure for repairs or +sanitation, which are not considered necessary in tenement +houses. Our friend has to walk three miles to his work and three +miles back. Exercise is a capital thing for a student or a city +clerk, but to a shepherd who has been in the fields all day, a +long walk at the end of his work is somewhat too much of a good +thing. He begged for an increase of wages to compensate him for +the loss of the hut, but Sir John pointed out to him that if he +was not satisfied his place could be easily filled by less +exorbitant shepherds. Sir John even condescended to explain that +the laws of political economy bind employers to buy labor in the +cheapest market, and our poor friend, just as ignorant of +economics as Sir John, of course did not know that this was +untrue. However, as labor is actually so purchased everywhere +except in Downing Street and a few other privileged spots, I +suggested that our friend should go to some place where his +market price would be higher than in merry England. He was +willing enough to do so, but unable from want of means. So I lent +him a trifle, and now he is on his way to Australia. Workmen are +the geese that lay the golden eggs, but they fly away sometimes. +I hear a gong sounding, to remind me of the fight of time and the +value of your share of it. Good-morning!" + +Miss Wilson was suddenly moved not to let him go without an +appeal to his better nature. "Mr. Trefusis," she said, "excuse +me, but are you not, in your generosity to others a little +forgetful of your duty to yourself; and--" + +"The first and hardest of all duties!" he exclaimed. "I beg your +pardon for interrupting you. It was only to plead guilty." + +"I cannot admit that it is the first of all duties, but it is +sometimes perhaps the hardest, as you say. Still, you could +surely do yourself more justice without any great effort. If you +wish to live humbly, you can do so without pretending to be an +uneducated man and without taking an irritating and absurd name. +Why on earth do you call yourself Smilash?" + +"I confess that the name has been a failure. I took great pains, +in constructing it, to secure a pleasant impression. It is not a +mere invention, but a compound of the words smile and eyelash. A +smile suggests good humor; eyelashes soften the expression and +are the only features that never blemish a face. Hence Smilash is +a sound that should cheer and propitiate. Yet it exasperates. It +is really very odd that it should have that effect, unless it is +that it raises expectations which I am unable to satisfy." + +Miss Wilson looked at him doubtfully. He remained perfectly +grave. There was a pause. Then, as if she had made up her mind to +be offended, she said, "Good-morning," shortly. + +"Good-morning, Miss Wilson. The son of a millionaire, like the +son of a king, is seldom free from mental disease. I am just mad +enough to be a mountebank. If I were a little madder, I should +perhaps really believe myself Smilash instead of merely acting +him. Whether you ask me to forget myself for a moment, or to +remember myself for a moment, I reply that I am the son of my +father, and cannot. With my egotism, my charlatanry, my tongue, +and my habit of having my own way, I am fit for no calling but +that of saviour of mankind--just of the sort they like." After an +impressive pause he turned slowly and left the room. + +"I wonder," he said, as he crossed the landing, "whether, by +judiciously losing my way, I can catch a glimpse of that girl who +is like a golden idol?" + +Downstairs, on his way to the door, he saw Agatha coming towards +him, occupied with a book which she was tossing up to the ceiling +and catching. Her melancholy expression, habitual in her lonely +moments, showed that she was not amusing herself, but giving vent +to her restlessness. As her gaze travelled upward, following the +flight of the volume, it was arrested by Smilash. The book fell +to the floor. He picked it up and handed it to her, saying: + +"And, in good time, here is the golden idol!" + +"What?" said Agatha, confused. + +"I call you the golden idol," he said. "When we are apart I +always imagine your face as a face of gold, with eyes and teeth +of bdellium, or chalcedony, or agate, or any wonderful unknown +stones of appropriate colors." + +Agatha, witless and dumb, could only look down deprecatingly. + +"You think you ought to be angry with me, and you do not know +exactly how to make me feel that you are so. Is that it?" + +"No. Quite the contrary. At least--I mean that you are wrong. I +am the most commonplace person you can imagine--if you only knew. +No matter what I may look, I mean." + +"How do you know that you are commonplace?" + +"Of course I know," said Agatha, her eyes wandering uneasily. + +"Of course you do not know; you cannot see yourself as others see +you. For instance, you have never thought of yourself as a golden +idol." + +"But that is absurd. You are quite mistaken about me." + +"Perhaps so. I know, however, that your face is not really made +of gold and that it has not the same charm for you that it has +for others--for me." + +"I must go," said Agatha, suddenly in haste. + +"When shall we meet again?" + +"I don't know," she said, with a growing sense of alarm. "I +really must go." + +"Believe me, your hurry is only imaginary. Do you fancy that you +are behaving in a manner quite ubdued ardor that affected Agatha +strangely. "But first tell me whether it is new to you or not." + +"It is not an emotion at all. I did not say that it was." + +"Do not be afraid of it. It is only being alone with a man whom +you have bewitched. You would be mistress of the situation if you +only knew how to manage a lover. It is far easier than managing a +horse, or skating, or playing the piano, or half a dozen other +feats of which you think nothing." + +Agatha colored and raised her head. + +"Forgive me," he said, interrupting the action. "I am trying to +offend you in order to save myself from falling in love with you, +and I have not the heart to let myself succeed. On your life, do +not listen to me or believe me. I have no right to say these +things to you. Some fiend enters into me when I am at your side. +You should wear a veil, Agatha." + +She blushed, and stood burning and tingling, her presence of mind +gone, and her chief sensation one of relief to hear--for she did +not dare to see--that he was departing. Her consciousness was in +a delicious confusion, with the one definite thought in it that +she had won her lover at last. The tone of Trefusis's voice, rich +with truth and earnestness, his quick insight, and his passionate +warning to her not to heed him, convinced her that she had +entered into a relation destined to influence her whole life. + +"And yet," she said remorsefully, "I cannot love him as he loves +me. I am selfish, cold, calculating, worldly, and have doubted +until now whether such a thing as love really existed. If I could +only love him recklessly and wholly, as he loves me!" + +Smilash was also soliloquizing as he went on his way. + +"Now I have made the poor child--who was so anxious that I should +not mistake her for a supernaturally gifted and lovely woman as +happy as an angel; and so is that fine girl whom they call Jane +Carpenter. I hope they won't exchange confidences on the +subject." + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Mrs. Trefusis found her parents so unsympathetic on the subject +of her marriage that she left their house shortly after her visit +to Lyvern, and went to reside with a hospitable friend. Unable to +remain silent upon the matter constantly in her thoughts, she +discussed her husband's flight with this friend, and elicited an +opinion that the behavior of Trefusis was scandalous and wicked. +Henrietta could not bear this, and sought shelter with a +relative. The same discussion arising, the relative said: + +"Well, Hetty, if I am to speak candidly, I must say that I have +known Sidney Trefusis for a long time, and he is the easiest +person to get on with I ever met. And you know, dear, that you +are very trying sometimes." + +"And so," cried Henrietta, bursting into tears, "after the +infamous way he has treated me I am to be told that it is all my +own fault." + +She left the house next day, having obtained another invitation +from a discreet lady who would not discuss the subject at all. +This proved quite intolerable, and Henrietta went to stay with +her uncle Daniel Jansenius, a jolly and indulgent man. He opined +that things would come right as soon as both parties grew more +sensible; and, as to which of them was, in fault, his verdict +was, six of one and half a dozen of the other. Whenever he saw +his niece pensive or tearful he laughed at her and called her a +grass widow. Henrietta found that she could endure anything +rather than this. Declaring that the world was hateful to her, +she hired a furnished villa in St. John's Wood, whither she moved +in December. But, suffering much there from loneliness, she soon +wrote a pathetic letter to Agatha, entreating her to spend the +approaching Christmas vacation with her, and promising her every +luxury and amusement that boundless affection could suggest and +boundless means procure. Agatha's reply contained some +unlooked-for information. + +"Alton College, Lyvern, + +"14th December. + +"Dearest Hetty: I don't think I can do exactly what you want, as +I must spend Xmas with Mamma at Chiswick; but I need not get +there until Xmas Eve, and we break up here on yesterday week, the +20th. So I will go straight to you and bring you with me to +Mamma's, where you will spend Xmas much better than moping in a +strange house. It is not quite settled yet about my leaving the +college after this term. You must promise not to tell anyone; but +I have a new friend here--a lover. Not that I am in love with +him, though I think very highly of him--you know I am not a +romantic fool; but he is very much in love with me; and I wish I +could return it as he deserves. The French say that one person +turns the cheek and the other kisses it. It has not got quite so +far as that with us; indeed, since he declared what he felt he +has only been able to snatch a few words with me when I have been +skating or walking. But there has always been at least one word +or look that meant a great deal. + +"And now, who do you think he is? He says he knows you. Can you +guess? He says you know all his secrets. He says he knows your +husband well; that he treated you very badly, and that you are +greatly to be pitied. Can you guess now? He says he has kissed +you--for shame, Hetty! Have you guessed yet? He was going to tell +me something more when we were interrupted, and I have not seen +him since except at a distance. He is the man with whom you +eloped that day when you gave us all such a fright--Mr. Sidney. I +was the first to penetrate his disguise; and that very morning I +had taxed him with it, and he had confessed it. He said then that +he was hiding from a woman who was in love with him; and I should +not be surprised if it turned out to be true; for he is +wonderfully original--in fact what makes me like him is that he +is by far the cleverest man I have ever met; and yet he thinks +nothing of himself. I cannot imagine what he sees in me to care +for, though he is evidently ensnared by my charms. I hope he +won't find out how silly I am. He called me his golden idol--" + +Henrietta, with a scream of rage, tore the letter across, and +stamped upon it. When the paroxysm subsided she picked up the +pieces, held them together as accurately as her trembling hands +could, and read on. + +"--but he is not all honey, and will say the most severe things +sometimes if he thinks he ought to. He has made me so ashamed of +my ignorance that I am resolved to stay here for another term at +least, and study as hard as I can. I have not begun yet, as it is +not worth while at the eleventh hour of this term; but when I +return in January I will set to work in earnest. So you may see +that his influence over me is an entirely good one. I will tell +you all about him when we meet; for I have no time to say +anything now, as the girls are bothering me to go skating with +them. He pretends to be a workman, and puts on our skates for us; +and Jane Carpenter believes that he is in love with her. Jane is +exceedingly kindhearted; but she has a talent for making herself +ridiculous that nothing can suppress. The ice is lovely, and the +weather jolly; we do not mind the cold in the least. They are +threatening to go without me--good-bye! + +"Ever your affectionate + +"Agatha." + +Henrietta looked round for something sharp. She grasped a pair of +scissors greedily and stabbed the air with them. Then she became +conscious of her murderous impulse, and she shuddered at it; but +in a moment more her jealousy swept back upon her. She cried, as +if suffocating, "I don't care; I should like to kill her!" But +she did not take up the scissors again. + +At last she rang the bell violently and asked for a railway +guide. On being told that there was not one in the house, she +scolded her maid so unreasonably that the girl said pertly that +if she were to be spoken to like that she should wish to leave +when her month was up. This check brought Henrietta to her +senses. She went upstairs and put on the first cloak at hand, +which was fortunately a heavy fur one. Then she took her bonnet +and purse, left the house, hailed a passing hansom, and bade the +cabman drive her to St. Pancras. + +When the night came the air at Lyvern was like iron in the +intense cold. The trees and the wind seemed ice-bound, as the +water was, and silence, stillness, and starlight, frozen hard, +brooded over the country. At the chalet, Smilash, indifferent to +the price of coals, kept up a roaring fire that glowed through +the uncurtained windows, and tantalized the chilled wayfarer who +did not happen to know, as the herdsmen of the neighborhood did, +that he was welcome to enter and warm himself without risk of +rebuff from the tenant. Smilash was in high spirits. He had +become a proficient skater, and frosty weather was now a luxury +to him. It braced him, and drove away his gloomy fits, whilst his +sympathies were kept awake and his indignation maintained at an +exhilarating pitch by the sufferings of the poor, who, unable to +afford fires or skating, warmed themselves in such sweltering +heat as overcrowding produces in all seasons. + +It was Smilash's custom to make a hot drink of oatmeal and water +for himself at half-past nine o'clock each evening, and to go to +bed at ten. He opened the door to throw out some water that +remained in the saucepan from its last cleansing. It froze as it +fell upon the soil. He looked at the night, and shook himself to +throw off an oppressive sensation of being clasped in the icy +ribs of the air, for the mercury had descended below the familiar +region of crisp and crackly cold and marked a temperature at +which the numb atmosphere seemed on the point of congealing into +black solidity. Nothing was stirring. + +"By George!" he said, "this is one of those nights on which a +rich man daren't think!" + +He shut the door, hastened back to his fire, and set to work at +his caudle, which he watched and stirred with a solicitude that +would have amused a professed cook. When it was done he poured it +into a large mug, where it steamed invitingly. He took up some in +a spoon and blew upon it to cool it. Tap, tap, tap, tap! +hurriedly at the door. + +"Nice night for a walk," he said, putting down the spoon; then +shouting, "Come in." + +The latch rose unsteadily, and Henrietta, with frozen tears on +her cheeks, and an unintelligible expression of wretchedness and +rage, appeared. After an instant of amazement, he sprang to her +and clasped her in his arms, and she, against her will, and +protesting voicelessly, stumbled into his embrace. + +"You are frozen to death," he exclaimed, carrying her to the +fire. "This seal jacket is like a sheet of ice. So is your face" +(kissing it). "What is the matter? Why do you struggle so?" + +"Let me go," she gasped, in a vehement whisper. "I h--hate you." + +"My poor love, you are too cold to hate anyone-- even your +husband. You must let me take off these atrocious French boots. +Your feet must be perfectly dead." + +By this time her voice and tears were thawing in the warmth of +the chalet and of his caresses. "You shall not take them off," +she said, crying with cold and sorrow. "Let me alone. Don't touch +me. I am going away--straight back. I will not speak to you, nor +take off my things here, nor touch anything in the house." + +"No, my darling," he said, putting her into a capacious wooden +armchair and busily unbuttoning her boots, "you shall do nothing +that you don't wish to do. Your feet are like stones. Yes, yes, +my dear, I am a wretch unworthy to live. I know it." + +"Let me alone," she said piteously. "I don't want your +attentions. I have done with you for ever." + +"Come, you must drink some of this nasty stuff. You will need +strength to tell your husband all the unpleasant things your soul +is charged with. Take just a little." + +She turned her face away and would not answer. He brought another +chair and sat down beside her. "My lost, forlorn, betrayed one--" + +"I am," she sobbed. "You don't mean it, but I am." + +"You are also my dearest and best of wives. If you ever loved me, +Hetty, do, for my once dear sake, drink this before it gets +cold." + +She pouted, sobbed, and yielded to some gentle force which he +used, as a child allows herself to be half persuaded, half +compelled, to take physic. + +"Do you feel better and more comfortable now?" he said. + +"No," she replied, angry with herself for feeling both. + +"Then," he said cheerfully, as if she had uttered a hearty +affirmative, "I will put some more coals on the fire, and we +shall be as snug as possible. It makes me wildly happy to see you +at my fireside, and to know that you are my own wife." + +"I wonder how you can look me in the face and say so," she cried. + +"I should wonder at myself if I could look at your face and say +anything else. Oatmeal is a capital restorative; all your energy +is coming back. There, that will make a magnificent blaze +presently." + +"I never thought you deceitful, Sidney, whatever other faults you +might have had." + +"Precisely, my love. I understand your feelings. Murder, +burglary, intemperance, or the minor vices you could have borne; +but deceit you cannot abide." + +"I will go away," she said despairingly, with a fresh burst of +tears. "I will not be laughed at and betrayed. I will go +barefooted." She rose and attempted to reach the door; but he +intercepted her and said: + +"My love, there is something serious the matter. What is it? +Don't be angry with me." + +He brought her back to the chair. She took Agatha's letter from +the pocket of her fur cloak, and handed it to him with a faint +attempt to be tragic. + +"Read that," she said. "And never speak to me again. All is over +between us." + +He took it curiously, and turned it to look at the signature. +"Aha!" he said, "my golden idol has been making mischief, has +she?" + +"There!" exclaimed Henrietta. "You have said it to my face! You +have convicted yourself out of your own mouth!" + +"Wait a moment, my dear. I have not read the letter yet." + +He rose and walked to and fro through the room, reading. She +watched him, angrily confident that she should presently see him +change countenance. Suddenly he drooped as if his spine had +partly given way; and in this ungraceful attitude he read the +remainder of the letter. When he had finished he threw it on the +table, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and roared with +laughter, huddling himself together as if he could concentrate +the joke by collecting himself into the smallest possible +compass. Henrietta, speechless with indignation, could only look +her feelings. At last he came and sat down beside her. + +"And so," he said, "on receiving this you rushed out in the cold +and came all the way to Lyvern. Now, it seems to me that you must +either love me very much- -" + +"I don't. I hate you." + +"Or else love yourself very much." + +"Oh!" And she wept afresh. "You are a selfish brute, and you do +just as you like without considering anyone else. No one ever +thinks of me. And now you won't even take the trouble to deny +that shameful letter." + +"Why should I deny it? It is true. Do you not see the irony of +all this? I amuse myself by paying a few compliments to a +schoolgirl for whom I do not care two straws more than for any +agreeable and passably clever woman I meet. Nevertheless, I +occasionally feel a pang of remorse because I think that she may +love me seriously, although I am only playing with her. I pity +the poor heart I have wantonly ensnared. And, all the time, she +is pitying me for exactly the same reason! She is +conscience-stricken because she is only indulging in the luxury +of being adored 'by far the cleverest man she has ever met,' and +is as heart-whole as I am! Ha, ha! That is the basis of the +religion of love of which poets are the high-priests. Each +worshipper knows that his own love is either a transient passion +or a sham copied from his favorite poem; but he believes honestly +in the love of others for him. Ho, ho! Is it not a silly world, +my dear?" + +"You had no right to make love to Agatha. You have no right to +make love to anyone but me; and I won't bear it." + +"You are angry because Agatha has infringed your monopoly. Always +monopoly! Why, you silly girl, do you suppose that I belong to +you, body and soul?--that I may not be moved except by your +affection, or think except of your beauty?" + +"You may call me as many names as you please, but you have no +right to make love to Agatha." + +"My dearest, I do not recollect calling you any names. I think +you said something about a selfish brute." + +"I did not. You called me a silly girl." + +"But, my love, you are." + +"And so YOU are. You are thoroughly selfish." + +"I don't deny it. But let us return to our subject. What did we +begin to quarrel about?" + +"I am not quarrelling, Sidney. It is you." + +"Well, what did I begin to quarrel about?" + +"About Agatha Wylie." + +"Oh, pardon me, Hetty; I certainly did not begin to quarrel about +her. I am very fond of her--more so, it appears, than she is of +me. One moment, Hetty, before you recommence your reproaches. +Why do you dislike my saying pretty things to Agatha?" + +Henrietta hesitated, and said: "Because you have no right to. It +shows how little you care for me." + +"It has nothing to do with you. It only shows how much I care for +her." + +"I will not stay here to be insulted," said Hetty, her distress +returning. "I will go home." + +"Not to-night; there is no train." + +"I will walk." + +"It is too far." + +"I don't care. I will not stay here, though I die of cold by the +roadside." + +"My cherished one, I have been annoying you purposely because you +show by your anger that you have not ceased to care for me. I am +in the wrong, as I usually am, and it is all my fault. Agatha +knows nothing about our marriage." + +"I do not blame you so much," said Henrietta, suffering him to +place her head on his shoulder; "but I will never speak to Agatha +again. She has behaved shamefully to me, and I will tell her so." + +"No doubt she will opine that it is all your fault, dearest, and +that I have behaved admirably. Between you I shall stand +exonerated. And now, since it is too cold for walking, since it +is late, since it is far to Lyvern and farther to London, I must +improvise some accommodation for you here." + +"But--" + +"But there is no help for it. You must stay." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Next day Smilash obtained from his wife a promise that she would +behave towards Agatha as if the letter had given no offence. +Henrietta pleaded as movingly as she could for an immediate +return to their domestic state, but he put her off with endearing +speeches, promised nothing but eternal affection, and sent her +back to London by the twelve o'clock express. Then his +countenance changed; he walked back to Lyvern, and thence to the +chalet, like a man pursued by disgust and remorse. Later in the +afternoon, to raise his spirits, he took his skates and went to +Wickens's pond, where, it being Saturday, he found the ice +crowded with the Alton students and their half-holiday visitors. +Fairholme, describing circles with his habitual air of compressed +hardihood, stopped and stared with indignant surprise as Smilash +lurched past him. + +"Is that man here by your permission?" he said to Farmer Wickens, +who was walking about as if superintending a harvest. + +"He is here because he likes, I take it," said Wickens +stubbornly. "He is a neighbor of mine and a friend of mine. Is +there any objections to my having a friend on my own pond, seein' +that there is nigh on two or three ton of other people's friends +on it 108 without as much as a with-your-leave or a by-your- +leave." + +"Oh, no," said Fairholme, somewhat dashed. "If you are satisfied +there can be no objection." + +"I'm glad on it. I thought there mout be." + +"Let me tell you," said Fairholme, nettled, "that your landlord +would not be pleased to see him here. He sent one of Sir John's +best shepherds out of the country, after filling his head with +ideas above his station. I heard Sir John speak very warmly about +it last Sunday." + +"Mayhap you did, Muster Fairholme. I have a lease of this +land--and gravelly, poor stuff it is--and I am no ways beholden +to Sir John's likings and dislikings. A very good thing too for +Sir John that I have a lease, for there ain't a man in the +country 'ud tak' a present o' the farm if it was free to-morrow. +And what's a' more, though that young man do talk foolish things +about the rights of farm laborers and such-like nonsense, if Sir +John was to hear him layin' it down concernin' rent and +improvements, and the way we tenant farmers is put upon, p'raps +he'd speak warmer than ever next Sunday." + +And Wickens, with a smile expressive of his sense of having +retorted effectively upon the parson, nodded and walked away. + +Just then Agatha, skating hand in hand with Jane Carpenter, heard +these words in her ear: "I have something very funny to tell you. +Don't look round." + +She recognized the voice of Smilash and obeyed. + +"I am not quite sure that you will enjoy it as it deserves," he +added, and darted off again, after casting an eloquent glance at +Miss Carpenter. + +Agatha disengaged herself from her companion, made a circuit, and +passed near Smilash, saying: "What is it?" + +Smilash flitted away like a swallow, traced several circles +around Fairholme, and then returned to Agatha and proceeded side +by side with her. + +"I have read the letter you wrote to Hetty," he said. + +Agatha's face began to glow. She forgot to maintain her balance, +and almost fell. + +"Take care. And so you are not fond of me--in the romantic +sense?" + +No answer. Agatha dumb and afraid to lift her eyelids. + +"That is fortunate," he continued, "because--good evening, Miss +Ward; I have done nothing but admire your skating for the last +hour--because men were deceivers ever; and I am no exception, as +you will presently admit." + +Agatha murmured something, but it was unintelligible amid the din +of skating. + +"You think not? Well, perhaps you are right; I have said nothing +to you that is not in a measure true. You have always had a +peculiar charm for me. But I did not mean you to tell Hetty. Can +you guess why?" + +Agatha shook her head. + +"Because she is my wife." + +Agatha's ankles became limp. With an effort she kept upright +until she reached Jane, to whom she clung for support. + +"Don't," screamed Jane. "You'll upset me." + +"I must sit down," said Agatha. "I am tired. Let me lean on you +until we get to the chairs." + +"Bosh! I can skate for an hour without sitting down," said Jane. +However, she helped Agatha to a chair and left her. Then Smilash, +as if desiring a rest also, sat down close by on the margin of +the pond. + +"Well," he said, without troubling himself as to whether their +conversation attracted attention or not, "what do you think of me +now?" + +"Why did you not tell me before, Mr. Trefusis?" + +"That is the cream of the joke," he replied, poising his heels on +the ice so that his skates stood vertically at legs' length from +him, and looking at them with a cynical air. "I thought you were +in love with me, and that the truth would be too severe a blow to +you. Ha! ha! And, for the same reason, you generously forbore to +tell me that you were no more in love with me than with the man +in the moon. Each played a farce, and palmed it off on the other +as a tragedy." + +"There are some things so unmanly, so unkind, and so cruel," said +Agatha, "that I cannot understand any gentleman saying them to a +girl. Please do not speak to me again. Miss Ward! Come to me for +a moment. I--I am not well." + +Ward hurried to her side. Smilash, after staring at her for a +moment in astonishment, and in some concern, skimmed away into +the crowd. When he reached the opposite bank he took off his +skates and asked Jane, who strayed intentionally in his +direction, to tell Miss Wylie that he was gone, and would skate +no more there. Without adding a word of explanation he left her +and made for his dwelling. As he went down into the hollow where +the road passed through the plantation on the college side of the +chalet he descried a boy, in the uniform of the post office, +sliding along the frozen ditch. A presentiment of evil tidings +came upon him like a darkening of the sky. He quickened his pace. + +"Anything for me?" he said. + +The boy, who knew him, fumbled in a letter case and produced a +buff envelope. It contained a telegram. + +From Jansenius, London. + +TO J. Smilash, Chamoounix Villa, Lyvern. +_________________________________________ + +Henrietta dangerously ill after journey +wants to see you doctors say must come at once +_________________________________________ + +There was a pause. Then he folded the paper methodically and put +it in his pocket, as if quite done with it. + +"And so," he said, "perhaps the tragedy is to follow the farce +after all." + +He looked at the boy, who retreated, not liking his expression. + +"Did you slide all the way from Lyvern?" + +"Only to come quicker," said the messenger, faltering. "I came as +quick as I could." + +"You carried news heavy enough to break the thickest ice ever +frozen. I have a mind to throw you over the top of that tree +instead of giving you this half-crown." + +"You let me alone," whimpered the boy, retreating another pace. + +"Get back to Lyvern as fast as you can run or slide, and tell Mr. +Marsh to send me the fastest trap he has, to drive me to the +railway station. Here is your half-crown. Off with you; and if I +do not find the trap ready when I want it, woe betide you." + +The boy came for the money mistrustfully, and ran off with it as +fast as he could. Smilash went into the chalet and never +reappeared. Instead, Trefusis, a gentleman in an ulster, carrying +a rug, came out, locked the door, and hurried along the road to +Lyvern, where he was picked up by the trap, and carried swiftly +to the railway station, just in time to catch the London train. + +"Evening paper, sir?" said a voice at the window, as he settled +himself in the corner of a first-class carriage. + +"No, thank you." + +"Footwarmer, sir?" said a porter, appearing in the news-vender's +place. + +"Ah, that's a good idea. Yes, let me have a footwarmer." + +The footwarmer was brought, and Trefusis composed himself +comfortably for his journey. It seemed very short to him; he +could hardly believe, when the train arrived in London, that he +had been nearly three hours on the way. + +There was a sense of Christmas about the travellers and the +people who were at the terminus to meet them. The porter who came +to the carriage door reminded Trefusis by his manner and voice +that the season was one at which it becomes a gentleman to be +festive and liberal. + +"Wot luggage, sir? Hansom or fourweoll, sir?" + +For a moment Trefusis felt a vagabond impulse to resume the +language of Smilash and fable to the man of hampers of turkey and +plum-pudding in the van. But he repressed it, got into a hansom, +and was driven to his father-in-law's house in Belsize Avenue, +studying in a gloomily critical mood the anxiety that surged upon +him and made his heart beat like a boy's as he drew near his +destination. There were two carriages at the door when he +alighted. The reticent expression of the coachmen sent a tremor +through him. + +The door opened before he rang. "If you please, sir," said the +maid in a low voice, "will you step into the library; and the +doctor will see you immediately." + +On the first landing of the staircase two gentlemen were speaking +to Mr. Jansenius, who hastily moved out of sight, not before a +glimpse of his air of grief 174 and discomfiture had given +Trefusis a strange twinge, succeeded by a sensation of having +been twenty years a widower. He smiled unconcernedly as he +followed the girl into the library, and asked her how she did. +She murmured some reply and hurried away, thinking that the poor +young man would alter his tone presently. + +He was joined at once by a gray whiskered gentleman, scrupulously +dressed and mannered. Trefusis introduced himself, and the +physician looked at him with some interest. Then he said: + +"You have arrived too late, Mr. Trefusis. All is over, I am sorry +to say." + +"Was the long railway journey she took in this cold weather the +cause of her death?" + +Some bitter words that the physician had heard upstairs made him +aware that this was a delicate question. But he said quietly: +"The proximate cause, doubtless. The proximate cause." + +"She received some unwelcome and quite unlooked-for intelligence +before she started. Had that anything to do with her death, do +you think?" + +"It may have produced an unfavorable effect," said the physician, +growing restive and taking up his gloves. "The habit of referring +such events to such causes is carried too far, as a rule." + +"No doubt. I am curious because the event is novel in my +experience. I suppose it is a commonplace in yours. Pardon me. + + +175 The loss of a lady so young and so favorably circumstanced +is not a commonplace either in my experience or in my opinion." +The physician held up his head as he spoke, in protest against +any assumption that his sympathies had been blunted by his +profession. + +"Did she suffer?" + +"For some hours, yes. We were able to do a little to alleviate +her pain--poor thing!" He almost forgot Trefusis as he added the +apostrophe. + +"Hours of pain! Can you conceive any good purpose that those +hours may have served?" + +The physician shook his head, leaving it doubtful whether he +meant to reply in the negative or to deplore considerations of +that nature. He also made a movement to depart, being uneasy in +conversation with Trefusis, who would, he felt sure, presently +ask questions or make remarks with which he could hardly deal +without committing himself in some direction. His conscience was +not quite at rest. Henrietta's pain had not, he thought, served +any good purpose; but he did not want to say so, lest he should +acquire a reputation for impiety and lose his practice. He +believed that the general practitioner who attended the family, +and had called him in when the case grew serious, had treated +Henrietta unskilfully, but professional etiquette bound him so +strongly that, sooner than betray his colleague's inefficiency, +he would have allowed him to decimate London. + +"One word more," said Trefusis. "Did she know that she was +dying?" + +"No. I considered it best that she should not be informed of her +danger. She passed away without any apprehension." + +"Then one can think of it with equanimity. She dreaded death, +poor child. The wonder is that there was not enough folly in the +household to prevail against your good sense." + +The physician bowed and took his leave, esteeming himself +somewhat fortunate in escaping without being reproached for his +humanity in having allowed Henrietta to die unawares. + +A moment later the general practitioner entered. Trefusis, having +accompanied the consulting physician to the door, detected the +family doctor in the act of pulling a long face just outside it. +Restraining a desire to seize him by the throat, he seated +himself on the edge of the table and said cheerfully: + +"Well, doctor, how has the world used you since we last met?" + +The doctor was taken aback, but the solemn disposition of his +features did not relax as he almost intoned: "Has Sir Francis +told you the sad news, Mr. Trefusis?" + +"Yes. Frightful, isn't it? Lord bless me, we're here to-day and +gone to-morrow." + +"True, very true!" + +"Sir Francis has a high opinion of you." + +The doctor looked a little foolish. "Everything was done that +could be done, Mr. Trefusis; but Mrs. Jansenius was very anxious +that no stone should be left unturned. She was good enough to say +that her sole reason for wishing me to call in Sir Francis was +that you should have no cause to complain." + +"Indeed!" + +"An excellent mother! A sad event for her! Ah, yes, yes! Dear me! +A very sad event!" + +"Most disagreeable. Such a cold day too. Pleasanter to be in +heaven than here in such weather, possibly." + +"Ah!" said the doctor, as if much sound comfort lay in that. "I +hope so; I hope so; I do not doubt it. Sir Francis did not permit +us to tell her, and I, of course, deferred to him. Perhaps it was +for the best." + +"You would have told her, then, if Sir Francis had not objected?" + +"Well, there are, you see, considerations which we must not +ignore in our profession. Death is a serious thing, as I am sure +I need not remind you, Mr. Trefusis. We have sometimes higher +duties than indulgence to the natural feelings of our patients." + +"Quite so. The possibility of eternal bliss and the probability +of eternal torment are consolations not to be lightly withheld +from a dying girl, eh? However, what's past cannot be mended. I +have much to be thankful for, after all. I am a young man, and +shall not cut a bad figure as a widower. And now tell me, doctor, +am I not in very bad repute upstairs?" + +"Mr. Trefusis! Sir! I cannot meddle in family matters. I +understand my duties and never over step them." The doctor, +shocked at last, spoke as loftily as he could. + +"Then I will go and see Mr. Jansenius," said Trefusis, getting +off the table. + +"Stay, sir! One moment. I have not finished. Mrs. Jansenius has +asked me to ask--I was about to say that I am not speaking now as +the medical adviser of this family; but although an old +friend--and--ahem! Mrs. Jansenius has asked me to ask--to request +you to excuse Mr. Jansenius, as he is prostrated by grief, and +is, as I can--as a medical man--assure you, unable to see anyone. +She will speak to you herself as soon as she feels able to do +so--at some time this evening. Meanwhile, of course, any orders +you may give--you must be fatigued by your journey, and I always +recommend people not to fast too long; it produces an acute form +of indigestion--any orders you may wish to give will, of course, +be attended to at once." + +"I think," said Trefusis, after a moment's reflection, "I will +order a hansom." + +"There is no ill-feeling," said the doctor, who, as a slow man, +was usually alarmed by prompt decisions, even when they seemed +wise to him, as this one did. "I hope you have not gathered from +anything I have said--" + +"Not at all; you have displayed the utmost tact. But I think I +had better go. Jansenius can bear death and misery with perfect +fortitude when it is on a large scale and hidden in a back slum. +But when it breaks into his own house, and attacks his +property--his daughter was his property until very recently-- he +is just the man to lose his head and quarrel with me for keeping +mine." + +The doctor was unable to cope with this speech, which conveyed +vaguely monstrous ideas to him. Seeing Trefusis about to leave, +he said in a low voice: "Will you go upstairs?" + +"Upstairs! Why?" + +"I--I thought you might wish to see--" He did not finish the +sentence, but Trefusis flinched; the blank had expressed what was +meant. + +"To see something that was Henrietta, and that is a thing we must +cast out and hide, with a little superstitious mumming to save +appearances. Why did you remind me of it?" + +"But, sir, whatever your views may be, will you not, as a matter +of form, in deference to the feelings of the family--" + +"Let them spare their feelings for the living, on whose behalf I +have often appealed to them in vain," cried Trefusis, losing +patience. "Damn their feelings!" And, turning to the door, he +found it open, and Mrs. Jansenius there listening. + +Trefusis was confounded. He knew what the effect of his speech +must be, and felt that it would be folly to attempt excuse or +explanation. He put his hands into his pockets, leaned against +the table, and looked at her, mutely wondering what would follow +on her part. + +The doctor broke the silence by saying tremulously, "I have +communicated the melancholy intelligence to Mr. Trefusis." + +"I hope you told him also," she said sternly, "that, however +deficient we may be in feeling, we did everything that lay in our +power for our child." + +"I am quite satisfied," said Trefusis. + +"No doubt you are--with the result," said Mrs. Jansenius, hardly. +"I wish to know whether you have anything to complain of." + +"Nothing." + +"Please do not imply that anything has happened through our +neglect." + +"What have I to complain of? She had a warm room and a luxurious +bed to die in, with the best medical advice in the world. Plenty +of people are starving and freezing to-day that we may have the +means to die fashionably; ask THEM if they have any cause for +complaint. Do you think I will wrangle over her body about the +amount of money spent on her illness? What measure is that of the +cause she had for complaint? I never grudged money to her--how +could I, seeing that more than I can waste is given to me for +nothing? Or how could you? Yet she had great reason to complain +of me. You will allow that to be so." + +"It is perfectly true." + +"Well, when I am in the humor for it, I will reproach myself and +not you." He paused, and then turned forcibly on her, saying, +"Why do you select this time, of all others, to speak so bitterly +to me?" + +"I am not aware that I have said anything to call for such a +remark. Did YOU," (appealing to the doctor) "hear me say +anything?" + +"Mr. Trefusis does not mean to say that you did, I am sure. Oh, +no. Mr. Trefusis's feelings are naturally--are harrowed. That is +all." + +"My feelings!" cried Trefusis impatiently. "Do you suppose my +feelings are a trumpery set of social observances, to be harrowed +to order and exhibited at funerals? She has gone as we three +shall go soon enough. If we were immortal, we might reasonably +pity the dead. As we are not, we had better save our energies to +minimize the harm we are likely to do before we follow her." + +The doctor was deeply offended by this speech, for the statement +that he should one day die seemed to him a reflection upon his +professional mastery over death. Mrs. Jansenius was glad to see +Trefusis confirming her bad opinion and report of him by his +conduct and language in the doctor's presence. There was a brief +pause, and then Trefusis, too far out of sympathy with them to be +able to lead the conversation into a kinder vein, left the room. +In the act of putting on his overcoat in the hall, he hesitated, +and hung it up again irresolutely. Suddenly he ran upstairs. At +the sound of his steps a woman came from one of the rooms and +looked inquiringly at him. + +"Is it here?" he said. + +"Yes, sir," she whispered. + +A painful sense of constriction came in his chest, and he turned +pale and stopped with his hand on the lock. + +"Don't be afraid, sir," said the woman, with an encouraging +smile. "She looks beautiful." + +He looked at her with a strange grin, as if she had uttered a +ghastly but irresistible joke. Then he went in, and, when he +reached the bed, wished he had stayed without. He was not one of +those who, seeing little in the faces of the living miss little +in the faces of the dead. The arrangement of the black hair on +the pillow, the soft drapery, and the flowers placed there by the +nurse to complete the artistic effect to which she had so +confidently referred, were lost on him; he saw only a lifeless +mask that had been his wife's face, and at sight of it his knees +failed, and he had to lean for support on the rail at the foot of +the bed. + +When he looked again the face seemed to have changed. It was no +longer a waxlike mask, but Henrietta, girlish and pathetically at +rest. Death seemed to have cancelled her marriage and womanhood; +he had never seen her look so young. A minute passed, and then a +tear dropped on the coverlet. He started; shook another tear on +his hand, and stared at it incredulously. + +"This is a fraud of which I have never even dreamed," he said. +"Tears and no sorrow! Here am I crying! growing maudlin! whilst I +am glad that she is gone and I free. I have the mechanism of +grief in me somewhere; it begins to turn at sight of her though I +have no sorrow; just as she used to start the mechanism of +passion when I had no love. And that made no difference to her; +whilst the wheels went round she was satisfied. I hope the +mechanism of grief will flag and stop in its spinning as soon as +the other used to. It is stopping already, I think. What a +mockery! Whilst it lasts I suppose I am really sorry. And yet, +would I restore her to life if I could? Perhaps so; I am +therefore thankful that I cannot." He folded his arms on the rail +and gravely addressed the dead figure, which still affected him +so strongly that he had to exert his will to face it with +composure. "If you really loved me, it is well for you that you +are dead--idiot that I was to believe that the passion you could +inspire, you poor child, would last. We are both lucky; I have +escaped from you, and you have escaped from yourself." + +Presently he breathed more freely and looked round the room to +help himself into a matter-of-fact vein by a little unembarrassed +action, and the commonplace aspect of the bedroom furniture. He +went to the pillow, and bent over it, examining the face closely. + +"Poor child!" he said again, tenderly. Then, with sudden +reaction, apostrophizing himself instead of his wife, "Poor ass! +Poor idiot! Poor jackanapes! Here is the body of a woman who was +nearly as old as myself, and perhaps wiser, and here am I +moralizing over it as if I were God Almighty and she a baby! The +more you remind a man of what he is, the more conceited he +becomes. Monstrous! I shall feel immortal presently." + +He touched the cheek with a faint attempt at roughness, to feel +how cold it was. Then he touched his own, and remarked: + +"This is what I am hastening toward at the express speed of sixty +minutes an hour!" He stood looking down at the face and tasting +this sombre reflection for a long time. When it palled on him, he +roused himself, and exclaimed more cheerfully: + +"After all, she is not dead. Every word she uttered--every idea +she formed and expressed, was an inexhaustible and indestructible +impulse." He paused, considered a little further, and relapsed +into gloom, adding, "and the dozen others whose names will be +with hers in the 'Times' to-morrow? Their words too are still in +the air, to endure there to all eternity. Hm! How the air must be +crammed with nonsense! Two sounds sometimes produce a silence; +perhaps ideas neutralize one another in some analogous way. No, +my dear; you are dead and gone and done with, and I shall be dead +and gone and done with too soon to leave me leisure to fool +myself with hopes of immortality. Poor Hetty! Well, good-by, my +darling. Let us pretend for a moment that you can hear that; I +know it will please you." + +All this was in a half-articulate whisper. When he ceased he +still bent over the body, gazing intently at it. Even when he had +exhausted the subject, and turned to go, he changed his mind, and +looked again for a while. Then he stood erect, apparently nerved +and refreshed, and left the room with a firm step. The woman was +waiting outside. Seeing that he was less distressed than when he +entered, she said: + +"I hope you are satisfied, sir!" + +"Delighted! Charmed! The arrangements are extremely pretty and +tasteful. Most consolatory." And he gave her half a sovereign. + +"I thank you, sir," she said, dropping a curtsey. "The poor young +lady! She was anxious to see you, sir. To hear her say that you +were the only one that cared for her! And so fretful with her +mother, too. 'Let him be told that I am dangerously ill,' says +she, 'and he'll come.' She didn't know how true her word was, +poor thing; and she went off without being aware of it." + +"Flattering herself and flattering me. Happy girl!" + +"Bless you, I know what her feelings were, sir; I have had +experience." Here she approached him confidentially, and +whispered: "The family were again' you, sir, and she knew it. But +she wouldn't listen to them. She thought of nothing, when she was +easy enough to think at all, but of your coming. And--hush! +Here's the old gentleman." + +Trefusis looked round and saw Mr. Jansenius, whose handsome face +was white and seamed with grief and annoyance. He drew back from +the proffered hand of his son-in-law, like an overworried child +from an ill-timed attempt to pet it. Trefusis pitied him. The +nurse coughed and retired. + +"Have you been speaking to Mrs. Jansenius?" said Trefusis. + +"Yes," said Jansenius offensively. + +"So have I, unfortunately. Pray make my apologies to her. I was +rude. The circumstances upset me." + +"You are not upset, sir," said Jansenius loudly. "You do not care +a damn." + +Trefusis recoiled. + +"You damned my feelings, and I will damn yours," continued +Jansenius in the same tone. Trefusis involuntarily looked at the +door through which he had lately passed. Then, recovering +himself, he said quietly: + +"It does not matter. She can't hear us." + +Before Jansenius could reply his wife hurried upstairs, caught +him by the arm, and said, "Don't speak to him, John. And you," +she added, to Trefusis, "WILL you begone?" + +"What!" he said, looking cynically at her. "Without my dead! +Without my property! Well, be it so." + +"What do you know of the feelings of a respectable man?" +persisted Jansenius, breaking out again in spite of his wife. +"Nothing is sacred to you. This shows what Socialists are!" + +"And what fathers are, and what mothers are," retorted Trefusis, +giving way to his temper. "I thought you loved Hetty, but I see +that you only love your feelings and your respectability. The +devil take both! She was right; my love for her, incomplete as it +was, was greater than yours." And he left the house in dudgeon. + +But he stood awhile in the avenue to laugh at himself and his +father-in-law. Then he took a hansom and was driven to the house +of his solicitor, whom he wished to consult on the settlement of +his late wife's affairs. + + + +CHAPTER X + +The remains of Henrietta Trefusis were interred in Highgate +Cemetery the day before Christmas Eve. Three noblemen sent their +carriages to the funeral, and the friends and clients of Mr. +Jansenius, to a large number, attended in person. The bier was +covered with a profusion of costly Bowers. The undertaker, +instructed to spare no expense, provided long-tailed black +horses, with black palls on their backs and black plumes upon +their foreheads; coachmen decorated with scarves and jack-boots, +black hammercloths, cloaks, and gloves, with many hired mourners, +who, however, would have been instantly discharged had they +presumed to betray emotion, or in any way overstep their function +of walking beside the hearse with brass-tipped batons in their +hands. + +Among the genuine mourners were Mr. Jansenius, who burst into +tears at the ceremony of casting earth on the coffin; the boy +Arthur, who, preoccupied by the novelty of appearing in a long +cloak at the head of a public procession, felt that he was not so +sorry as he ought to be when he saw his papa cry; and a cousin +who had once asked Henrietta to marry him, and who now, full of +tragic reflections, was enjoying his despair intensely. + +The rest whispered, whenever they could decently do so, about a +strange omission in the arrangements. The husband of the deceased +was absent. Members of the family and intimate friends were told +by Daniel Jansenius that the widower had acted in a blackguard +way, and that the Janseniuses did not care two-pence whether he +came or stayed at home; that, but for the indecency of the thing, +they were just as glad that he was keeping away. Others, who had +no claim to be privately informed, made inquiries of the +undertaker's foreman, who said he understood the gentleman +objected to large funerals. Asked why, he said he supposed it was +on the ground of expense. This being met by a remark that Mr. +Trefusis was very wealthy, he added that he had been told so, but +believed the money had not come from the lady; that people seldom +cared to go to a great expense for a funeral unless they came +into something good by the death; and that some parties the more +they had the more they grudged. Before the funeral guests +dispersed, the report spread by Mr. Jansenius's brother had got +mixed with the views of the foreman, and had given rise to a +story of Trefusis expressing joy at his wife's death with +frightful oaths in her father's house whilst she lay dead there, +and refusing to pay a farthing of her debts or funeral expenses. + +Some days later, when gossip on the subject was subsiding, a +fresh scandal revived it. A literary friend of Mr. Jansenius's +helped him to compose an epitaph, and added to it a couple of +pretty and touching stanzas, setting forth that Henrietta's +character had been one of rare sweetness and virtue, and that her +friends would never cease to sorrow for her loss. A tradesman who +described himself as a "monumental mason" furnished a book of +tomb designs, and Mr. Jansenius selected a highly ornamental one, +and proposed to defray half the cost of its erection. Trefusis +objected that the epitaph was untrue, and said that he did not +see why tombstones should be privileged to publish false +statements. It was reported that he had followed up his former +misconduct by calling his father-in-law a liar, and that he had +ordered a common tombstone from some cheap-jack at the East-end. +He had, in fact, spoken contemptuously of the monumental +tradesman as an "exploiter" of labor, and had asked a young +working mason, a member of the International Association, to +design a monument for the gratification of Jansenius. + +The mason, with much pains and misgiving, produced an original +design. Trefusis approved of it, and resolved to have it executed +by the hands of the designer. He hired a sculptor's studio, +purchased blocks of marble of the dimensions and quality +described to him by the mason, and invited him to set to work +forthwith. + +Trefusis now encountered a difficulty. He wished to pay the mason +the just value of his work, no more and no less. But this he +could not ascertain. The only available standard was the market +price, and this he rejected as being fixed by competition among +capitalists who could only secure profit by obtaining from their +workmen more products than they paid them for, and could only +tempt customers by offering a share of the unpaid-for part of the +products as a reduction in price. Thus he found that the system +of withholding the indispensable materials for production and +subsistence from the laborers, except on condition of their +supporting an idle class whilst accepting a lower standard of +comfort for themselves than for that idle class, rendered the +determination of just ratios of exchange, and consequently the +practice of honest dealing, impossible. He had at last to ask the +mason what he would consider fair payment for the execution of +the design, though he knew that the man could no more solve the +problem than he, and that, though he would certainly ask as much +as he thought he could get, his demand must be limited by his +poverty and by the competition of the monumental tradesman. +Trefusis settled the matter by giving double what was asked, only +imposing such conditions as were necessary to compel the mason to +execute the work himself, and not make a profit by hiring other +men at the market rate of wages to do it. + +But the design was, to its author's astonishment, to be paid for +separately. The mason, after hesitating a long time between +two-pounds-ten and five pounds, was emboldened by a +fellow-workman, who treated him to some hot whiskey and water, to +name the larger sum. Trefusis paid the money at once, and then +set himself to find out how much a similar design would have cost +from the hands of an eminent Royal Academician. Happening to know +a gentleman in this position, he consulted him, and was informed +that the probable cost would be from five hundred to one thousand +pounds. Trefusis expressed his opinion that the mason's charge +was the more reasonable, somewhat to the indignation of his +artist friend, who reminded him of the years which a Royal +Academician has to spend in acquiring his skill. Trefusis +mentioned that the apprenticeship of a mason was quite as long, +twice as laborious, and not half so pleasant. The artist now +began to find Trefusis's Socialistic views, with which he had +previously fancied himself in sympathy, both odious and +dangerous. He demanded whether nothing was to be allowed for +genius. Trefusis warmly replied that genius cost its possessor +nothing; that it was the inheritance of the whole race +incidentally vested in a single individual, and that if that +individual employed his monopoly of it to extort money from +others, he deserved nothing better than hanging. The artist lost +his temper, and suggested that if Trefusis could not feel that +the prerogative of art was divine, perhaps he could understand +that a painter was not such a fool as to design a tomb for five +pounds when he might be painting a portrait for a thousand. +Trefusis retorted that the fact of a man paying a thousand pounds +for a portrait proved that he had not earned the money, and was +therefore either a thief or a beggar. The common workman who +sacrificed sixpence from his week's wages for a cheap photograph +to present to his sweet. heart, or a shilling for a pair of +chromolithographic pictures or delft figures to place on his +mantelboard, suffered greater privation for the sake of +possessing a work of art than the great landlord or shareholder +who paid a thousand pounds, which he was too rich to miss, for a +portrait that, like Hogarth's Jack Sheppard, was only interesting +to students of criminal physiognomy. A lively quarrel ensued, +Trefusis denouncing the folly of artists in fancying themselves a +priestly caste when they were obviously only the parasites and +favored slaves of the moneyed classes, and his friend +(temporarily his enemy) sneering bitterly at levellers who were +for levelling down instead of levelling up. Finally, tired of +disputing, and remorseful for their acrimony, they dined amicably +together. + +The monument was placed in Highgate Cemetery by a small band of +workmen whom Trefusis found out of employment. It bore the +following inscription: + + +THIS IS THE MONUMENT OF HENRIETTA JANSENIUS WHO WAS BORN ON THE +26TH JULY, 1856, MARRIED TO SIDNEY TREFUSIS ON THE 23RD AUGUST, +1875, AND WHO DIED ON THE 21ST DECEMBER IN THE SAME YEAR. + +Mr. Jansenius took this as an insult to his daughter's memory, +and, as the tomb was much smaller than many which had been +erected in the cemetery by families to whom the Janseniuses +claimed superiority, cited it as an example of the widower's +meanness. But by other persons it was so much admired that +Trefusis hoped it would ensure the prosperity of its designer. +The contrary happened. When the mason attempted to return to his +ordinary work he was informed that he had contravened trade +usage, and that his former employers would have nothing more to +say to him. On applying for advice and assistance to the +trades-union of which he was a member he received the same reply, +and was further reproached for treachery to his fellow-workmen. +He returned to Trefusis to say that the tombstone job had ruined +him. Trefusis, enraged, wrote an argumentative letter to the +"Times," which was not inserted, a sarcastic one to the +trades-union, which did no good, and a fierce one to the +employers, who threatened to take an action for libel. He had to +content himself with setting the man to work again on +mantelpieces and other decorative stone-work for use in house +property on the Trefusis estate. In a year or two his liberal +payments enabled the mason to save sufficient to start as an +employer, in which capacity he soon began to grow rich, as he +knew by experience exactly how much his workmen could be forced +to do, and how little they could be forced to take. Shortly after +this change in his circumstances he became an advocate of thrift, +temperance, and steady industry, and quitted the International +Association, of which he had been an enthusiastic supporter when +dependent on his own skill and taste as a working mason. + +During these occurrences Agatha's school-life ended. Her +resolution to study hard during another term at the college had +been formed, not for the sake of becoming learned, but that she +might become more worthy of Smilash; and when she learned the +truth about him from his own lips, the idea of returning to the +scene of that humiliation became intolerable to her. She left +under the impression that her heart was broken, for her smarting +vanity, by the law of its own existence, would not perceive that +it was the seat of the injury. So she bade Miss Wilson adieu; and +the bee on the window pane was heard no more at Alton College. + +The intelligence of Henrietta's death shocked her the more +because she could not help being glad that the only other person +who knew of her folly with regard to Smilash (himself excepted) +was now silenced forever. This seemed to her a terrible discovery +of her own depravity. Under its influence she became almost +religious, and caused some anxiety about her health to her +mother, who was puzzled by her unwonted seriousness, and, in +particular, by her determination not to speak of the misconduct +of Trefusis, which was now the prevailing topic of conversation +in the family. She listened in silence to gossiping discussions +of his desertion of his wife, his heartless indifference to her +decease, his violence and bad language by her deathbed, his +parsimony, his malicious opposition to the wishes of the +Janseniuses, his cheap tombstone with the insulting epitaph, his +association with common workmen and low demagogues, his suspected +connection with a secret society for the assassination of the +royal family and blowing up of the army, his atheistic denial, in +a pamphlet addressed to the clergy, of a statement by the +Archbishop of Canterbury that spiritual aid alone could improve +the condition of the poor in the East-end of London, and the +crowning disgrace of his trial for seditious libel at the Old +Bailey, where he was condemned to six months' imprisonment; a +penalty from which he was rescued by the ingenuity of his +counsel, who discovered a flaw in the indictment, and succeeded, +at great cost to Trefusis, in getting the sentence quashed. +Agatha at last got tired of hearing of his misdeeds. She believed +him to be heartless, selfish, and misguided, but she knew that he +was not the loud, coarse, sensual, and ignorant brawler most of +her mother's gossips supposed him to be. She even felt, in spite +of herself, an emotion of gratitude to the few who ventured to +defend him. + +Preparation for her first season helped her to forget her +misadventure. She "came out" in due time, and an extremely dull +season she found it. So much so, that she sometimes asked herself +whether she should ever be happy again. At the college there had +been good fellowship, fun, rules, and duties which were a source +of strength when observed and a source of delicious excitement +when violated, freedom from ceremony, toffee making, flights on +the banisters, and appreciative audiences for the soldier in the +chimney. + +In society there were silly conversations lasting half a minute, +cool acquaintanceships founded on such half-minutes, general +reciprocity of suspicion, overcrowding, insufficient ventilation, +bad music badly executed, late hours, unwholesome food, +intoxicating liquors, jealous competition in useless expenditure, +husband-hunting, flirting, dancing, theatres, and concerts. The +last three, which Agatha liked, helped to make the contrast +between Alton and London tolerable to her, but they had their +drawbacks, for good partners at the dances, and good performances +at the spiritless opera and concerts, were disappointingly +scarce. Flirting she could not endure; she drove men away when +they became tender, seeing in them the falsehood of Smilash +without his wit. She was considered rude by the younger gentlemen +of her circle. They discussed her bad manners among themselves, +and agreed to punish her by not asking her to dance. She thus got +rid, without knowing why, of the attentions she cared for least +(she retained a schoolgirl's cruel contempt for "boys"), and +enjoyed herself as best she could with such of the older or more +sensible men as were not intolerant of girls. + +At best the year was the least happy she had ever spent. She +repeatedly alarmed her mother by broaching projects of becoming a +hospital nurse, a public singer, or an actress. These projects +led to some desultory studies. In order to qualify herself as a +nurse she read a handbook of physiology, which Mrs. Wylie thought +so improper a subject for a young lady that she went in tears to +beg Mrs. Jansenius to remonstrate with her unruly girl. Mrs. +Jansenius, better advised, was of opinion that the more a woman +knew the more wisely she was likely to act, and that Agatha would +soon drop the physiology of her own accord. This proved true. +Agatha, having finished her book by dint of extensive skipping, +proceeded to study pathology from a volume of clinical lectures. +Finding her own sensations exactly like those described in the +book as symptoms of the direst diseases, she put it by in alarm, +and took up a novel, which was free from the fault she had found +in the lectures, inasmuch as none of the emotions it described in +the least resembled any she had ever experienced. + +After a brief interval, she consulted a fashionable teacher of +singing as to whether her voice was strong enough for the +operatic stage. He recommended her to study with him for six +years, assuring her that at the end of that period--if she +followed his directions--she should be the greatest singer in the +world. To this there was, in her mind, the conclusive objection +that in six years she should be an old woman. So she resolved to +try privately whether she could not get on more quickly by +herself. Meanwhile, with a view to the drama in case her operatic +scheme should fail, she took lessons in elocution and gymnastics. +Practice in these improved her health and spirits so much that +her previous aspirations seemed too limited. She tried her hand +at all the arts in succession, but was too discouraged by the +weakness of her first attempts to persevere. She knew that as a +general rule there are feeble and ridiculous beginnings to all +excellence, but she never applied general rules to her own case, +still thinking of herself as an exception to them, just as she +had done when she romanced about Smilash. The illusions of +adolescence were thick upon her. + +Meanwhile her progress was creating anxieties in which she had no +share. Her paroxysms of exhilaration, followed by a gnawing sense +of failure and uselessness, were known to her mother only as +"wildness" and "low spirits," to be combated by needlework as a +sedative, or beef tea as a stimulant. Mrs. Wylie had learnt by +rote that the whole duty of a lady is to be graceful, charitable, +helpful, modest, and disinterested whilst awaiting passively +whatever lot these virtues may induce. But she had learnt by +experience that a lady's business in society is to get married, +and that virtues and accomplishments alike are important only as +attractions to eligible bachelors. As this truth is shameful, +young ladies are left for a year or two to find it out for +themselves; it is seldom explicitly conveyed to them at their +entry into society. Hence they often throw away capital bargains +in their first season, and are compelled to offer themselves at +greatly reduced prices subsequently,when their attractions begin +to stale. This was the fate which Mrs. Wylie, warned by Mrs. +Jansenius, feared for Agatha, who, time after time when a callow +gentleman of wealth and position was introduced to her, drove him +brusquely away as soon as he ventured to hint that 200 + +his affections were concerned in their acquaintanceship. The +anxious mother had to console herself with the fact that her +daughter drove away the ineligible as ruthlessly as the eligible, +formed no unworldly attachments, was still very young, and would +grow less coy as she advanced in years and in what Mrs. Jansenius +called sense. + +But as the seasons went by it remained questionable whether +Agatha was the more to be congratulated on having begun life +after leaving school or Henrietta on having finished it. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Brandon Beeches, in the Thames valley, was the seat of Sir +Charles Brandon, seventh baronet of that name. He had lost his +father before attaining his majority, and had married shortly +afterwards; so that in his twenty-fifth year he was father to +three children. He was a little worn, in spite of his youth, but +he was tall and agreeable, had a winning way of taking a kind and +soothing view of the misfortunes of others, could tell a story +well, liked music and could play and sing a little, loved the +arts of design and could sketch a little in water colors, read +every magazine from London to Paris that criticised pictures, had +travelled a little, fished a little, shot a little, botanized a +little, wandered restlessly in the footsteps of women, and +dissipated his energies through all the small channels that his +wealth opened and his talents made easy to him. He had no large +knowledge of any subject, though he had looked into many just far +enough to replace absolute unconsciousness of them with +measurable ignorance. Never having enjoyed the sense of +achievement, he was troubled with unsatisfied aspirations that +filled him with melancholy and convinced him that he was a born +artist. His wife found him selfish, peevish, hankering after +change, and prone to believe that he was attacked by dangerous +disease when he was only catching cold. + +Lady Brandon, who believed that he understood all the subjects he +talked about because she did not understand them herself, was one +of his disappointments. In person she resembled none of the types +of beauty striven after by the painters of her time, but she had +charms to which few men are insensible. She was tall, soft, and +stout, with ample and shapely arms, shoulders, and hips. With her +small head, little ears, pretty lips, and roguish eye, she, being +a very large creature, presented an immensity of half womanly, +half infantile loveliness which smote even grave men with a +desire to clasp her in their arms and kiss her. This desire had +scattered the desultory intellectual culture of Sir Charles at +first sight. His imagination invested her with the taste for the +fine arts which ho required from a wife, and he married her in +her first season, only to discover that the amativeness in her +temperament was so little and languid that she made all his +attempts at fondness ridiculous, and robbed the caresses for +which he had longed of all their anticipated ecstasy. +Intellectually she fell still further short of his hopes. She +looked upon his favorite art of painting as a pastime for amateur +and a branch of the house-furnishing trade for professional +artists. When he was discussing it among his friends, she would +offer her opinion with a presumption which was the more trying as +she frequently blundered upon a sound conclusion whilst he was +reasoning his way to a hollow one with his utmost subtlety and +seriousness. On such occasions his disgust did not trouble her in +the least; she triumphed in it. She had concluded that marriage +was a greater folly, and men greater fools, than she had +supposed; but such beliefs rather lightened her sense of +responsibility than disappointed her, and, as she had plenty of +money, plenty of servants, plenty of visitors, and plenty of +exercise on horseback, of which she was immoderately fond, her +time passed pleasantly enough. Comfort seemed to her the natural +order of life; trouble always surprised her. Her husband's +friends, who mistrusted every future hour, and found matter for +bitter reflection in many past ones, were to her only examples of +the power of sedentary habits and excessive reading to make men +tripped and dull. + +One fine May morning, as she cantered along the avenue at Brandon +Beeches on a powerful bay horse, the gates at the end opened and +a young man sped through them on a bicycle. He was of slight +frame, with fine dark eyes and delicate nostrils. When he +recognized Lady Brandon he waved his cap, and when they met he +sprang from his inanimate steed, at which the bay horse shied. + +"Don't, you silly beast!" she cried, whacking the animal with the +butt of her whip. "Though it's natural enough, goodness knows! +How d'ye do? The idea of anyone rich enough to afford a horse +riding on a wheel like that!" + +"But I am not rich enough to afford a horse," he said, +approaching her to pat the bay, having placed the bicycle against +a tree. "Besides, I am afraid of horses, not being accustomed to +them; and I know nothing about feeding them. My steed needs no +food. He doesn't bite nor kick. He never goes lame, nor sickens, +nor dies, nor needs a groom, nor--" + +"That's all bosh," said Lady Brandon impetuously. "It stumbles, +and gives you the most awful tosses, and it goes lame by its +treadles and thingamejigs coming off, and it wears out, and is +twice as much trouble to keep clean and scrape the mud off as a +horse, and all sorts of things. I think the most ridiculous sight +in the world is a man on a bicycle, working away with his feet as +hard as he possibly can, and believing that his horse is carrying +him instead of, as anyone can see, he carrying the horse. You +needn't tell me that it isn't easier to walk in the ordinary way +than to drag a great dead iron thing along with you. It's not +good sense." + +"Nevertheless I can carry it a hundred miles further in a day +than I can carry myself alone. Such are the marvels of machinery. +But I know that we cut a very poor figure beside you and that +magnificent creature not that anyone will look at me whilst you +are by to occupy their attention so much more worthily." + +She darted a glance at him which clouded his vision and made his +heart beat more strongly. This was an old habit of hers. She kept +it up from love of fun, having no idea of the effect it produced +on more ardent temperaments than her own. He continued hastily: + +"Is Sir Charles within doors?" + +"Oh, it's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of in my life," +she exclaimed. "A man that lives by himself in a place down by +the Riverside Road like a toy savings bank--don't you know the +things I mean?--called Sallust's House, says there is a right of +way through our new pleasure ground. As if anyone could have any +right there after all the money we have spent fencing it on three +sides, and building up the wall by the road, and levelling, and +planting, and draining, and goodness knows what else! And now the +man says that all the common people and tramps in the +neighborhood have a right to walk across it because they are too +lazy to go round by the road. Sir Charles has gone to see the man +about it. Of course he wouldn't do as I wanted him." + +"What was that?" + +"Write to tell the man to mind his own business, and to say that +the first person we found attempting to trespass on our property +should be given to the police." + +"Then I shall find no one at home. I beg your pardon for calling +it so, but it is the only place like home to me." + +"Yes; it is so comfortable since we built the billiard room and +took away those nasty hangings in the hall. I was ever so long +trying to per--" + +She was interrupted by an old laborer, who hobbled up as fast as +his rheumatism would allow him, and began to speak without +further ceremony than snatching off his cap. + +"Th'ave coom to the noo groups, my lady, crowds of 'em. An' a +parson with 'em, an' a flag! Sur Chorles he don't know what to +say; an' sooch doin's never was." + +Lady Brandon turned pale and pulled at her horse as if to back +him out of some danger. Her visitor, puzzled, asked the old man +what he meant. + +"There's goin' to be a proceyshon through the noo groups," he +replied, "an' the master can't stop 'em. Th'ave throon down the +wall; three yards of it is lyin' on Riverside Road. An' there's a +parson with 'em, and a flag. An' him that lives in Sallust's +hoos, he's there, hoddin''em on." + +"Thrown down the wall!" exclaimed Lady Brandon, scarlet with +indignation and pale with apprehension by turns. "What a +disgraceful thing! Where are the police? Chester, will you come +with me and see what they are doing? Sir Charles is no use. Do +you think there is any danger?" + +"There's two police," said the old man, "an' him that lives at +Sallust's dar'd them stop him. They're lookin' on. An' there's a +parson among 'em. I see him pullin' away at the wall with his own +han's." + +"I will go and see the fun," said Chester. + +Lady Brandon hesitated. But her anger and curiosity vanquished +her fears. She overtook the bicycle, and they went together +through the gates and by the highroad to the scene the old man +had described. A heap of bricks and mortar lay in the roadway on +each side of a breach in the newly built wall, over which Lady +Brandon, from her eminence on horseback, could see, coming +towards her across the pleasure ground, a column of about thirty +persons. They marched three abreast in good order and in silence; +the expression of all except a few mirthful faces being that of +devotees fulfilling a rite. The gravity of the procession was +deepened by the appearance of a clergyman in its ranks, which +were composed of men of the middle class, and a few workmen +carrying a banner inscribed THE SOIL or ENGLAND THE BIRTHRIGHT OF +ALL HER PEOPLE. There were also four women, upon whom Lady +Brandon looked with intense indignation and contempt. None of the +men of the neighborhood had dared to join; they stood in the road +whispering, and occasionally venturing to laugh at the jests of a +couple of tramps who had stopped to see the fun, and who cared +nothing for Sir Charles. + +He, standing a little way within the field, was remonstrating +angrily with a man of his own class, who stood with his back to +the breach and his hands in the pockets of his snuff-colored +clothes, contemplating the procession with elate satisfaction. +Lady Brandon, at once suspecting that this was the man from +Sallust's House, and encouraged by the loyalty of the crowd, most +of whom made way for her and touched their hats, hit the bay +horse smartly with her whip and rode him, with a clatter of hoofs +and scattering of clods, right at the snuff-colored enemy, who +had to spring hastily aside to avoid her. There was a roar of +laughter from the roadway, and the man turned sharply on her. But +he suddenly smiled affably, replaced his hands in his pockets +after raising his hat, and said: + +"How do you do, Miss Carpenter? I thought you were a charge of +cavalry." + +"I am not Miss Carpenter, I am Lady Brandon; and you ought to be +ashamed of yourself, Mr. Smilash, if it is you that have brought +these disgraceful people here." + +His eyes as he replied were eloquent with reproach to her for +being no longer Miss Carpenter. "I am not Smilash," he said; "I +am Sidney Trefusis. I have just had the pleasure of meeting Sir +Charles for the first time, and we shall be the best friends +possible when I have convinced him that it is hardly fair to +seize on a path belonging to the people and compel them to walk a +mile and a half round his estate instead of four hundred yards +between two portions of it." + +"I have already told you, sir," said Sir Charles, "that I intend +to open a still shorter path, and to allow all the well-conducted +work-people to pass through twice a day. This will enable them to +go to their work and return from it; and I will be at the cost of +keeping the path in repair." + +"Thank you," said Trefusis drily; "but why should we trouble you +when we have a path of our own to use fifty times a day if we +choose, without any man barring our way until our conduct happens +to please him? Besides, your next heir would probably shut the +path up the moment he came into possession." + +"Offering them a path is just what makes them impudent," said +Lady Brandon to her husband. "Why did you promise them anything? +They would not think it a hardship to walk a mile and a half, or +twenty miles, to a public-house, but when they go to their work +they think it dreadful to have to walk a yard. Perhaps they would +like us to lend them the wagonette to drive in?" + +"I have no doubt they would," said Trefusis, beaming at her. + +"Pray leave me to manage here, Jane; this is no place for you. +Bring Erskine to the house. He must be--" + +"Why don't the police make them go away?" said Lady Brandon, too +excited to listen to her husband. + +"Hush, Jane, pray. What can three men do against thirty or +forty?" + +"They ought to take up somebody as an example to the rest." + +"They have offered, in the handsomest manner, to arrest me if Sir +Charles will give me in charge," said Trefusis. + +"There!" said Lady Jane, turning to her husband. "Why don't you +give him--or someone--in charge?" + +"You know nothing about it," said Sir Charles, vexed by a sense +that she was publicly making him ridiculous. + +"If you don't, I will," she persisted. "The idea of having our +ground broken into and our new wall knocked down! A nice state of +things it would be if people were allowed to do as they liked +with other peoples' property. I will give every one of them in +charge." + +"Would you consign me to a dungeon?" said Trefusis, in melancholy +tones. + +"I don't mean you exactly," she said, relenting. "But I will give +that clergyman into charge, because he ought to know better. He +is the ringleader of the whole thing." + +"He will be delighted, Lady Brandon; he pines for martyrdom. But +will you really give him into custody?" + +"I will," she said vehemently, emphasizing the assurance by a +plunge in the saddle that made the bay stagger. + +"On what charge?" he said, patting the horse and looking up at +her. + +"I don't care what charge," she replied, conscious that she was +being admired, and not displeased. "Let them take him up, that's +all." + +Human beings on horseback are so far centaurs that liberties +taken with their horses are almost as personal as liberties taken +with themselves. When Sir Charles saw Trefusis patting the bay he +felt as much outraged as if Lady Brandon herself were being +patted, and he felt bitterly towards her for permitting the +familiarity. He uas relieved by the arrival of the procession. It +halted as the 1eadere came up to Trefusis, who said gravely: + +"Gentlemen, I congratulate you on the firmness with which you +have this day asserted the rights of the people of this place to +the use of one of the few scraps of mother earth of which they +have not been despoiled." + +"Gentlemen," shouted an excited member of the procession, "three +cheers for the resumption of the land of England by the people of +England! Hip, hip, hurrah!" + +The cheers were given with much spirit, Sir Charles's cheeks +becoming redder at each repetition. He looked angrily at the +clergyman, now distracted by the charms of Lady Brandon, whose +scorn, as she surveyed the crowd, expressed itself by a pout +which became her pretty lips extremely. + +Then a middle-aged laborer stepped from the road into the field, +hat in hand, ducked respectfully, and said: "Look 'e here, Sir +Charles. Don't 'e mind them fellers. There ain't a man belonging +to this neighborhood among 'em; not one in your employ or on your +land. Our dooty to you and your ladyship, and we will trust to +you to do what is fair by us. We want no interlopers from Lunnon +to get us into trouble with your honor, and--" + +"You unmitigated cur," exclaimed Trefusis fiercely, "what right +have you to give away to his unborn children the liberty of your +own?" + +"They're not unborn," said Lady Brandon indignantly. "That just +shows how little you know about it." + +"No, nor mine either," said the man, emboldened by her ladyship's +support. "And who are you that call me a cur?" + +"Who am I! I am a rich man--one of your masters, and privileged +to call you what I please. You are a grovelling famine-broken +slave. Now go and seek redress against me from the law. I can buy +law enough to ruin you for less money than it would cost me to +shoot deer in Scotland or vermin here. How do you like that state +of things? Eh?" + +The man was taken aback. "Sir Charles will stand by me," he said, +after a pause, with assumed confidence, but with an anxious +glance at the baronet. + +"If he does, after witnessing the return you have made me for +standing by you, he is a greater fool than I take him to be." + +"Gently, gently," said the clergyman. "There is much excuse to be +made for the poor fellow." + +"As gently as you please with any man that is a free man at +heart," said Trefusis; "but slaves must be driven, and this +fellow is a slave to the marrow." + +"Still, we must be patient. He does not know--" + +"He knows a great deal better than you do," said Lady Brandon, +interrupting. "And the more shame for you, because you ought to +know best. I suppose you were educated somewhere. You will not be +satisfied with yourself when your bishop hears of this. Yes," she +added, turning to Trefusis with an infantile air of wanting to +cry and being forced to laugh against her will, "you may laugh as +much as you please--don't trouble to pretend it's only +coughing--but we will write to his bishop, as he shall find to +his cost." + +"Hold your tongue, Jane, for God's sake," said Sir Charles, +taking her horse by the bridle and backing him from Trefusis. + +"I will not. If you choose to stand here and allow them to walk +away with the walls in their pockets, I don't, and won't. Why +cannot you make the police do something?" + +"They can do nothing," said Sir Charles, almost beside himself +with humiliation. "I cannot do anything until I see my solicitor. +How can you bear to stay here wrangling with these fellows? It is +SO undignified!" + +"It's all very well to talk of dignity, but I don't see the +dignity of letting people trample on our grounds without leave. +Mr. Smilash, will you make them all go away, and tell them that +they shall all be prosecuted and put in prison?" + +"They are going to the crossroads, to hold a public meeting +and--of course--make speeches. I am desired to say that they +deeply regret that their demonstration should have disturbed you +personally, Lady Brandon." + +"So they ought," she replied. "They don't look very sorry. They +are getting frightened at what they have done, and they would be +glad to escape the consequences by apologizing, most likely. But +they shan't. I am not such a fool as they think." + +"They don't think so. You have proved the contrary." + +"Jane," said Sir Charles pettishly, "do you know this gentleman?" + +"I should think I do," said Lady Brandon emphatically. + +Trefusis bowed as if he had just been formally introduced to the +baronet, who, against his will, returned the salutation stiffly, +unable to ignore an older, firmer, and quicker man under the +circumstances. + +"This seems an unneighborly business, Sir Charles," said +Trefusis, quite at his ease; " but as it is a public question, it +need not prejudice our private relations. At least I hope not." + +Sir Charles bowed again, more stiffly than before. + +"I am, like you, a capitalist and landlord." + +"Which it seems to me you have no right to be, if you are in +earnest," struck in Chester, who had been watching the scene in +silence by Sir Charles's side. + +"Which, as you say, I have undoubtedly no right to be," said +Trefusis, surveying him with interest; " but which I nevertheless +cannot help being. Have I the pleasure of speaking to Mr. +Chichester Erskine, author of a tragedy entitled 'The Patriot +Martyrs,' dedicated with enthusiastic devotion to the Spirit of +Liberty and half a dozen famous upholders of that principle, and +denouncing in forcible language the tyranny of the late Tsar of +Russia, Bomba of Naples, and Napoleon the Third?" + +"Yes, sir," said Erskine, reddening; for he felt that this +description might make his drama seem ridiculous to those present +who had not read it. + +"Then," said Trefusis, extending his hand--Erskine at first +thought for a hearty shake--"give me half-a-crown towards the +cost of our expedition here to-day to assert the right of the +people to tread the soil we are standing upon." + +"You shall do nothing of the sort, Chester," cried Lady Brandon. +"I never heard of such a thing in my life! Do you pay us for the +wall and fence your people have broken, Mr. Smilash; that would +be more to the purpose." + +"If I could find a thousand men as practical as you, Lady +Brandon, I might accomplish the next great revolution before the +end of this season." He looked at her for a moment curiously, as +if trying to remember; and then added inconsequently: "How are +your friends? There was a Miss--Miss--I am afraid I have +forgotten all the names except your own." + +"Gertrude Lindsay is staying with us. Do you remember her?" + +"I think--no, I am afraid I do not. Let me see. Was she a haughty +young lady?" + +"Yes," said Lady Brandon eagerly, forgetting the wall and fence. +"But who do you think is coming next Thursday? I met her +accidentally the last time I was in town. She's not a bit +changed. You can't forget her, so don't pretend to be puzzled." + +"You have not told me who she is yet. And I shall probably not +remember her. You must not expect me to recognize everyone +instantaneously, as I recognized you." + +"What stuff! You will know Agatha fast enough." + +"Agatha Wylie!" he said, with sudden gravity. + +"Yes. She is coming on Thursday. Are you glad?" + +"I fear I shall have no opportunity of seeing her." + +"Oh, of course you must see her. It will be so jolly for us all +to meet again just as we used. Why can't you come to luncheon on +Thursday?" + +"I shall be delighted, if you will really allow me to come after +my conduct here." + +"The lawyers will settle that. Now that you have found out who we +are you will stop pulling down our walls, of course." + +"Of course," said Trefusis, smiling, as he took out a pocket +diary and entered the engagement. "I must hurry away to the +crossroads. They have probably voted me into the chair by this +time, and are waiting for me to open their meeting. Good-bye. You +have made this place, which I was growing tired of, unexpectedly +interesting to me." + +They exchanged glances of the old college pattern. Then he nodded +to Sir Charles, waved his hand familiarly to Erskine, and +followed the procession, which was by this time out of sight. + +Sir Charles, who, waiting to speak, had been repeatedly baffled +by the hasty speeches of his wife and the unhesitating replies of +Trefusis, now turned angrily upon her, saying: + +"What do you mean by inviting that fellow to my house ?" + +"Your house, indeed! I will invite whom I please. You are getting +into one of your tempers." + +Sir Charles looked about him. Erskine had discreetly slipped +away, and was in the road, tightening a screw in his bicycle. The +few persons who remained were out of earshot. + +"Who and what the devil is he, and how do you come to know him?" +he demanded. He never swore in the presence of any lady except +his wife, and then only when they were alone. + +"He is a gentleman, which is more than you are," she retorted, +and, with a cut of her whip that narrowly missed her husband's +shoulder, sent the bay plunging through the gap. + +"Come along," she said to Erskine. "We shall be late for +luncheon." + +"Had we not better wait for Sir Charles?" he asked injudiciously. + +"Never mind Sir Charles, he is in the sulks," she said, without +abating her voice. "Come along." And she went off at a canter, +Erskine following her with a misgiving that his visit was +unfortunately timed. unworthy of yourself, and that a net is +closing round you?" + +"No. Nothing of the sort!" + +"Then why are you so anxious to get away?" + +"I don't know," said Agatha, affecting to laugh as he looked +sceptically at her from beneath his lowered eyelids. "Perhaps I +do feel a little like that; but not so much as you say." + +"I will explain the emotion to you," he said, with a subdued +ardor that affected Agatha strangely. "But first tell me whether +it is new to you or not." + +"It is not an emotion at all. I did not say that it was." + +"Do not be afraid of it. It is only being alone with a man whom +you have bewitched. You would be mistress of the situation if you +only knew how to manage a lover. It is far easier than managing a +horse, or skating, or playing the piano, or half a dozen other +feats of which you think nothing." + +Agatha colored and raised her head. + +"Forgive me," he said, interrupting the action. "I am trying to +offend you in order to save myself from falling in love with you, +and I have not the heart to let myself succeed. On your life, do +not listen to me or believe me. I have no right to say these +things to you. Some fiend enters into me when I am at your side. +You should wear a veil, Agatha." + +She blushed, and stood burning and tingling, her presence of mind +gone, and her chief sensation one of relief to hear--for she did +not dare to see--that he was departing. Her consciousness was in +a delicious confusion, with the one definite thought in it that +she had won her lover at last. The tone of Trefusis's voice, rich +with truth and earnestness, his quick insight, and his passionate +warning to her not to heed him, convinced her that she had +entered into a relation destined to influence her whole life. + +"And yet," she said remorsefully, "I cannot love him as he loves +me. I am selfish, cold, calculating, worldly, and have doubted +until now whether such a thing as love really existed. If I could +only love him recklessly and wholly, as he loves me!" + +Smilash was also soliloquizing as he went on his way. + +"Now I have made the poor child--who was so anxious that I should +not mistake her for a supernaturally gifted and lovely woman--as +happy as an angel; and so is that fine girl whom they call Jane +Carpenter. I hope they won't exchange confidences on the +subject." + + + +CHAPTER XII + +On the following Thursday Gertrude, Agatha, and Jane met for the +first time since they had parted at Alton College. Agatha was the +shyest of the three, and externally the least changed. She +fancied herself very different from the Agatha of Alton; but it +was her opinion of herself that had altered, not her person. +Expecting to find a corresponding alteration in her friends, she +had looked forward to the meeting with much doubt and little hope +of its proving pleasant. + +She was more anxious about Gertrude than about Jane, concerning +whom, at a brief interview in London, she had already discovered +that Lady Brandon's manner, mind, and speech were just what Miss +Carpenter's had been. But, even from Agatha, Jane commanded more +respect than before, having changed from an overgrown girl into a +fine woman, and made a brilliant match in her first season, +whilst many of her pretty, proud, and clever contemporaries, whom +she had envied at school, were still unmarried, and were having +their homes made uncomfortable by parents anxious to get rid of +the burthen of supporting them, and to profit in purse or +position by their marriages. + +This was Gertrude's case. Like Agatha, she had thrown away her +matrimonial opportunities. Proud of her rank and exclusiveness, +she had resolved to have as little as possible to do with persons +who did not share both with her. She began by repulsing the +proffered acquaintance of many families of great wealth and +fashion, who either did not know their grandparents or were +ashamed of them. Having shut herself out of their circle, she was +presented at court, and thenceforth accepted the invitations of +those only who had, in her opinion, a right to the same honor. +And she was far stricter on that point than the Lord Chamberlain, +who had, she held, betrayed his trust by practically turning +Leveller. She was well educated, refined in her manners and +habits, skilled in etiquette to an extent irritating to the +ignorant, and gifted with a delicate complexion, pearly teeth, +and a face that would have been Grecian but for a slight upward +tilt of the nose and traces of a square, heavy type in the jaw. +Her father was a retired admiral, with sufficient influence to +have had a sinecure made by a Conservative government expressly +for the maintenance of his son pending alliance with some +heiress. Yet Gertrude remained single, and the admiral, who had +formerly spent more money than he could comfortably afford on her +education, and was still doing so upon her state and personal +adornment, was complaining so unpleasantly of her failure to get +taken off his hands, that she could hardly bear to live at home, +and was ready to marry any thoroughbred gentleman, however +unsuitable his age or character, who would relieve her from her +humiliating dependence. She was prepared to sacrifice her natural +desire for youth, beauty, and virtue in a husband if she could +escape from her parents on no easier terms, but she was resolved +to die an old maid sooner than marry an upstart. + +The difficulty in her way was pecuniary. The admiral was poor. He +had not quite six thousand a year, and though he practiced the +utmost economy in order to keep up the most expensive habits, he +could not afford to give his daughter a dowry. Now the well born +bachelors of her set, having more blue bood, but much less +wealth, than they needed, admired her, paid her compliments, +danced with her, but could not afford to marry her. Some of them +even told her so, married rich daughters of tea merchants, iron +founders, or successful stocktrokers, and then tried to make +matches between her and their lowly born brothers-in-law. + +So, when Gertrude met Lady Brandon, her lot was secretly +wretched, and she was glad to accept an invitation to Brandon +Beeches in order to escape for a while from the admiral's daily +sarcasms on the marriage list in the "Times." The invitation was +the more acceptable because Sir Charles was no mushroom noble, +and, in the schooldays which Gertrude now remembered as the +happiest of her life, she had acknowledged that Jane's family and +connections were more aristocratic than those of any other +student then at Alton, herself excepted. To Agatha, whose +grandfather had amassed wealth as a proprietor of gasworks +(novelties in his time), she had never offered her intimacy. +Agatha had taken it by force, partly moral, partly physical. But +the gasworks were never forgotten, and when Lady Brandon +mentioned, as a piece of delightful news, that she had found out +their old school companion, and had asked her to join them, +Gertrude was not quite pleased. Yet, when they met, her eyes were +the only wet ones there, for she was the least happy of the +three, and, though she did not know it, her spirit was somewhat +broken. Agatha, she thought, had lost the bloom of girlhood, but +was bolder, stronger, and cleverer than before. Agatha had, in +fact, summoned all her self-possession to hide her shyness. She +detected the emotion of Gertrude, who at the last moment did not +try to conceal it. It would have been poured out freely in words, +had Gertrude's social training taught her to express her feelings +as well as it had accustomed her to dissemble them. + +"Do you remember Miss Wilson?" said Jane, as the three drove from +the railway station to Brandon Beeches. "Do you remember Mrs. +Miller and her cat? Do you remember the Recording Angel? Do you +remember how I fell into the canal?" + +These reminiscences lasted until they reached the house and went +together to Agatha's room. Here Jane, having some orders to give +in the household, had to leave them--reluctantly; for she was +jealous lest Gertrude should get the start of her in the renewal +of Agatha's affection. She even tried to take her rival away with +her; but in vain. Gertrude would not budge. + +"What a beautiful house and splendid place!" said Agatha when +Jane was gone. "And what a nice fellow Sir Charles is! We used to +laugh at Jane, but she can afford to laugh at the luckiest of us +now. I always said she would blunder into the best of everything. +Is it true that she married in her first season?" + +"Yes. And Sir Charles is a man of great culture. I cannot +understand it. Her size is really beyond everything, and her +manners are bad." + +"Hm!" said Agatha with a wise air. "There was always something +about Jane that attracted men. And she is more knave than fool. +But she is certainly a great ass." + +Gertrude looked serious, to imply that she had grown out of the +habit of using or listening to such language. Agatha, stimulated +by this, continued: + +"Here are you and I, who consider ourselves twice as presentable +and conversable as she, two old maids." Gertrude winced, and +Agatha hastened to add: "Why, as for you, you are perfectly +lovely! And she has asked us down expressly to marry us." + +"She would not presume--" + +"Nonsense, my dear Gertrude. She thinks that we are a couple of +fools who have mismanaged our own business, and that she, having +managed so well for herself, can settle us in a jiffy. Come, did +she not say to you, before I came, that it was time for me to be +getting married?" + +"Well, she did. But--" + +"She said exactly the same thing to me about yon when she invited +me." + +"I would leave her house this moment," said Gertrude, "if I +thought she dared meddle in my affairs. What is it to her whether +I am married or not?" + +"Where have you been living all these years, if you do not know +that the very first thing a woman wants to do when she has made a +good match is to make ones for all her spinster friends. Jane +does not mean any harm. She does it out of pure benevolence." + +"I do not need Jane's benevolence." + +"Neither do I; but it doesn't do any harm, and she is welcome to +amuse herself by trotting out her male acquaintances for my +approval. Hush! Here she comes." + +Gertrude subsided. She could not quarrel with Lady Brandon +without leaving the house, and she could not leave the house +without returning to her home. But she privately resolved to +discourage the attentions of Erskine, suspecting that instead of +being in love with her as he pretended, he had merely been +recommended by Jane to marry her. + +Chichester Erskine had made sketches in Palestine with Sir +Charles, and had tramped with him through many European picture +galleries. He was a young man of gentle birth, and had inherited +fifteen hundred a year from his mother, the bulk of the family +property being his elder brother's. Having no profession, and +being fond of books and pictures, he had devoted himself to fine +art, a pursuit which offered him on the cheapest terms a high +opinion of the beauty and capacity of his own nature. He had +published a tragedy entitled, "The Patriot Martyrs," with an +etched frontispiece by Sir Charles, and an edition of it had been +speedily disposed of in presentations to the friends of the +artist and poet, and to the reviews and newspapers. Sir Charles +had asked an eminent tragedian of his acquaintance to place the +work on the stage and to enact one of the patriot martyrs. But +the tragedian had objected that the other patriot martyrs had +parts of equal importance to that proposed for him. Erskine had +indignantly refused to cut these parts down or out, and so the +project had fallen through. + +Since then Erskine had been bent on writing another drama, +without regard to the exigencies of the stage, but he had not yet +begun it, in consequence of his inspiration coming upon him at +inconvenient hours, chiefly late at night, when he had been +drinking, and had leisure for sonnets only. The morning air and +bicycle riding were fatal to the vein in which poetry struck him +as being worth writing. In spite of the bicycle, however, the +drama, which was to be entitled "Hypatia," was now in a fair way +to be written, for the poet had met and fallen in love with +Gertrude Lindsay, whose almost Grecian features, and some +knowledge of the different calculua which she had acquired at +Alton, helped him to believe that she was a fit model for his +heroine. + +When the ladies came downstairs they found their host and Erskine +in the picture gallery, famous in the neighborhood for the sum it +had cost Sir Charles. There was a new etching to be admired, and +they were called on to observe what the baronet called its tones, +and what Agatha would have called its degrees of smudginess. Sir +Charles's attention often wandered from this work of art. He +looked at his watch twice, and said to his wife: + +"I have ordered them to be punctual with the luncheon." + +"Oh, yes; it's all right," said Lady Brandon, who had given +orders that luncheon was not to be served until the arrival of +another gentleman. "Show Agatha the picture of the man in the--" + +"Mr. Trefusis," said a servant. + +Mr. Trefusis, still in snuff color, entered; coat unbuttoned and +attention unconstrained; exasperatingly unconscious of any +occasion for ceremony. + +"Here you are at last," said Lady Brandon. "You know everybody, +don't you?" + +"How do you do?" said Sir Charles, offering his hand as a severe +expression of his duty to his wife's guest, who took it +cordially, nodded to Erskine, looked without recognition at +Gertrude, whose frosty stillness repudiated Lady Brandon's +implication that the stranger was acquainted with her, and turned +to Agatha, to whom he bowed. She made no sign; she was paralyzed. +Lady Brandon reddened with anger. Sir Charles noted his guest's +reception with secret satisfaction, but shared the embarrassment +which oppressed all present except Trefusis, who seemed quite +indifferent and assured, and unconsciously produced an impression +that the others had not been equal to the occasion, as indeed +they had not. + +"We were looking at some etchings when you came in," said Sir +Charles, hastening to break the silence. "Do you care for such +things?" And he handed him a proof. + +Trefusis looked at it as if he had never seen such a thing before +and did not quite know what to make of it. "All these scratches +seem to me to have no meaning," he said dubiously. + +Sir Charles stole a contemptuous smile and significant glance at +Erskine. He, seized already with an instinctive antipathy to +Trefusis, said emphatically: + +"There is not one of those scratches that has not a meaning." + +"That one, for instance, like the limb of a daddy-long-legs. What +does that mean?" + +Erskine hesitated a moment; recovered himself; and said: +"Obviously enough--to me at least--it indicates the marking of +the roadway." + +"Not a bit of it," said Trefusis. "There never was such a mark as +that on a road. It may be a very bad attempt at a briar, but +briars don't straggle into the middle of roads frequented as that +one seems to be--judging by those overdone ruts." He put the +etching away, showing no disposition to look further into the +portfolio, and remarked, "The only art that interests me is +photography." + +Erskine and Sir Charles again exchanged glances, and the former +said: + +"Photography is not an art in the sense in which I understand the +term. It is a process." + +"And a much less troublesome and more perfect process than that," +said Trefusis, pointing to the etching. "The artists are sticking +to the old barbarous, difficult, and imperfect processes of +etching and portrait painting merely to keep up the value of +their monopoly of the required skill. They have left the new, +more complexly organized, and more perfect, yet simple and +beautiful method of photography in the hands of tradesmen, +sneering at it publicly and resorting to its aid surreptitiously. +The result is that the tradesmen are becoming better artists than +they, and naturally so; for where, as in photography, the drawing +counts for nothing, the thought and judgment count for +everything; whereas in the etching and daubing processes, where +great manual skill is needed to produce anything that the eye can +endure, the execution counts for more than the thought, and if a +fellow only fit to carry bricks up a ladder or the like has +ambition and perseverance enough to train his hand and push into +the van, you cannot afford to put him back into his proper place, +because thoroughly trained hands are so scarce. Consider the +proof of this that you have in literature. Our books are manually +the work of printers and papermakers; you may cut an author's +hand off and he is as good an author as before. What is the +result? There is more imagination in any number of a penny +journal than in half-a-dozen of the Royal Academy rooms in the +season. No author can live by his work and be as empty-headed as +an average successful painter. Again, consider our implements of +music--our pianofortes, for example. Nobody but an acrobat will +voluntarily spend years at such a difficult mechanical puzzle as +the keyboard, and so we have to take our impressions of +Beethoven's sonatas from acrobats who vie with each other in the +rapidity of their prestos, or the staying power of their left +wrists. Thoughtful men will not spend their lives acquiring +sleight-of-hand. Invent a piano which will respond as delicately +to the turning of a handle as our present ones do to the pressure +of the fingers, and the acrobats will be driven back to their +carpets and trapezes, because the sole faculty necessary to the +executant musician will be the musical faculty, and no other will +enable him to obtain a hearing." + +The company were somewhat overcome by this unexpected lecture. +Sir Charles, feeling that such views bore adversely on him, and +were somehow iconoclastic and low-lived, was about to make a +peevish retort, when Erskine forestalled him by asking Trefusis +what idea he had formed of the future of the arts. He replied +promptly. "Photography perfected in its recently discovered power +of reproducing color as well as form! Historical pictures +replaced by photographs of tableaux vivants formed and arranged +by trained actors and artists, and used chiefly for the +instruction of children. Nine-tenths of painting as we understand +it at present extinguished by the competition of these +photographs, and the remaining tenth only holding its own against +them by dint of extraordinary excellence! Our mistuned and +unplayable organs and pianofortes replaced by harmonious +instruments, as manageable as barrel organs! Works of fiction +superseded by interesting company and conversation, and made +obsolete by the human mind outgrowing the childishness that +delights in the tales told by grownup children such as novelists +and their like! An end to the silly confusion, under the one name +of Art, of the tomfoolery and make-believe of our play-hours with +the higher methods of teaching men to know themselves! Every +artist an amateur, and a consequent return to the healthy old +disposition to look on every man who makes art a means of +money-getting as a vagabond not to be entertained as an equal by +honest men!" + +"In which case artists will starve, and there will be no more +art." + +"Sir," said Trefusis, excited by the word, "I, as a Socialist, +can tell you that starvation is now impossible, except where, as +in England, masterless men are forcibly prevented from producing +the food they need. And you, as an artist, can tell me that at +present great artists invariably do starve, except when they are +kept alive by charity, private fortune, or some drudgery which +hinders them in the pursuit of their vocation." + +"Oh!" said Erskine. "Then Socialists have some little sympathy +with artists after all." + +"I fear," said Trefusis, repressing himself and speaking quietly +again, "that when a Socialist hears of a hundred pounds paid for +a drawing which Andrea del Sarto was glad to sell for tenpence, +his heart is not wrung with pity for the artist's imaginary loss +as that of a modern capitalist is. Yet that is the only way +nowadays of enlisting sympathy for the old masters. Frightful +disability, to be out of the reach of the dearest market when you +want to sell your drawings! But," he added, giving himself a +shake, and turning round gaily, "I did not come here to talk +shop. So--pending the deluge--let us enjoy ourselves after our +manner." + +"No," said Jane. "Please go on about Art. It's such a relief to +hear anyone talking sensibly about it. I hate etching. It makes +your eyes sore--at least the acid gets into Sir Charles's, and +the difference between the first and second states is nothing but +imagination, except that the last state is worse than the--here's +luncheon!" + +They went downstairs then. Trefusis sat between Agatha and Lady +Brandon, to whom he addressed all his conversation. They chatted +without much interruption from the business of the table; for +Jane, despite her amplitude, had a small appetite, and was +fearful of growing fat; whilst Trefusis was systematically +abstemious. Sir Charles was unusually silent. He was afraid to +talk about art, lest he should be contradicted by Trefusis, who, +he already felt, cared less and perhaps knew more about it than +he. Having previously commented to Agatha on the beauty of the +ripening spring, and inquired whether her journey had fatigued +her, he had said as much as he could think of at a first meeting. +For her part, she was intent on Trefusis, who, though he must +know, she thought, that they were all hostile to him except Jane, +seemed as confident now as when he had befooled her long ago. +That thought set her teeth on edge. She did not doubt the +sincerity of her antipathy to him even when she detected herself +in the act of protesting inwardly that she was not glad to meet +him again, and that she would not speak to him. Gertrude, +meanwhile, was giving short answers to Erskine and listening to +Trefusis. She had gathered from the domestic squabbles of the +last few days that Lady Brandon, against her husband's will, had +invited a notorious demagogue, the rich son of a successful +cotton-spinner, to visit the Beeches. She had made up her mind to +snub any such man. But on recognizing the long-forgotten Smilash, +she had been astonished, and had not known what to do. So, to +avoid doing anything improper, she had stood stilly silent and +done nothing, as the custom of English ladies in such cases is. +Subsequently, his unconscious self-assertion had wrought with her +as with the others, and her intention of snubbing him had faded +into the limbo of projects abandoned without trial. Erskine alone +was free from the influence of the intruder. He wished himself +elsewhere; but beside Gertrude the presence or absence of any +other person troubled him very little. + +"How are the Janseniuses?" said Trefusis, suddenly turning to +Agatha. + +"They are quite well, thank you," she said in measured tones. + +"I met John Jansenius in the city lately. You know Jansenius?" he +added parenthetically to Sir Charles. "Cotman's bank--the last +Cotman died out of the firm before we were born. The Chairman of +the Transcanadian Railway Company." + +"I know the name. I am seldom in the city." + +"Naturally," assented Trefusis; "for who would sadden himself by +pushing his way through a crowd of such slaves, if he could help +it? I mean slaves of Mammon, of course. To run the gauntlet of +their faces in Cornhill is enough to discourage a thoughtful man +for hours. Well, Jansenius, being high in the court of Mammon, is +looking out for a good post in the household for his son. +Jansenius, by-the-bye is Miss Wylie's guardian and the father of +my late wife." + +Agatha felt inclined to deny this; but, as it was true, she had +to forbear. Resolved to show that the relations between her +family and Trefusis were not cordial ones, she asked +deliberately, "Did Mr. Jansenius speak to you?" + +Gertrude looked up, as if she thought this scarcely ladylike. + +"Yes," said Trefusis. "We are the best friends in the world--as +good as possible, at any rate. He wanted me to subscribe to a +fund for relieving the poor at the east end of London by +assisting them to emigrate." + +"I presume you subscribed liberally," said Erskine. "It was an +opportunity of doing some practical good." + +"I did not," said Trefusis, grinning at the sarcasm. "This +Transcanadian Railway Company, having got a great deal of spare +land from the Canadian government for nothing, thought it would +be a good idea to settle British workmen on it and screw rent out +of them. Plenty of British workmen, supplanted in their +employment by machinery, or cheap foreign labor, or one thing or +another, were quite willing to go; but as they couldn't afford to +pay their passages to Canada, the Company appealed to the +benevolent to pay for them by subscription, as the change would +improve their miserable condition. I did not see why I should pay +to provide a rich company with tenant farmers, and I told +Jansenius so. He remarked that when money and not talk was +required, the workmen of England soon found out who were their +real friends." + +"I know nothing about these questions," said Sir Charles, with an +air of conclusiveness; "but I see no objection to emigration" The +fact is," said Trefusis, "the idea of emigration is a dangerous +one for us. Familiarize the workman with it, and some day he may +come to see what a capital thing it would be to pack off me, and +you, with the peerage, and the whole tribe of unprofitable +proprietors such as we are, to St. Helena; making us a handsome +present of the island by way of indemnity! We are such a +restless, unhappy lot, that I doubt whether it would not prove a +good thing for us too. The workmen would lose nothing but the +contemplation of our elegant persons, exquisite manners, and +refined tastes. They might provide against that loss by picking +out a few of us to keep for ornament's sake. No nation with a +sense of beauty would banish Lady Brandon, or Miss Lindsay, or +Miss Wylie." + +"Such nonsense!" said Jane. + +"You would hardly believe how much I have spent in sending +workmen out of the country against my own view of the country's +interest," continued Trefusis, addressing Erskine. "When I make a +convert among the working classes, the first thing he does is to +make a speech somewhere declaring his new convictions. His +employer immediately discharges him--'gives him the sack' is the +technical phrase. The sack is the sword of the capitalist, and +hunger keeps it sharp for him. His shield is the law, made for +the purpose by his own class. Thus equipped, he gives the worst +of it to my poor convert, who comes ruined to me for assistance. +As I cannot afford to pension him for life, I get rid of him by +assisting him to emigrate. Sometimes he prospers and repays me; +sometimes I hear no more of him; sometimes he comes back with his +habits unsettled. One man whom I sent to America made his +fortune, but he was not a social democrat; he was a clerk who had +embezzled, and who applied to me for assistance under the +impression that I considered it rather meritorious to rob the +till of a capitalist." + +"He was a practical Socialist, in fact," said Erskine. + +"On the contrary, he was a somewhat too grasping Individualist. +Howbeit, I enabled him to make good his defalcation--in the city +they consider a defalcation made good when the money is +replaced--and to go to New York. I recommended him not to go +there; but he knew better than I, for he made a fortune by +speculating with money that existed only in the imagination of +those with whom he dealt. He never repaid me; he is probably far +too good a man of business to pay money that cannot be extracted +from him by an appeal to the law or to his commercial credit. Mr. +Erskine," added Trefusis, lowering his voice, and turning to the +poet, "you are wrong to take part with hucksters and +money-hunters against your own nature, even though the attack +upon them is led by a man who prefers photography to etching." + +"But I assure you--You quite mistake me," said Erskine, taken +aback. "I--" + +He stopped,looked to Sir Charles for support, and then said +airily: "I don't doubt that you are quite right. I hate business +and men of business; and as to social questions, I have only one +article of belief, which is, that the sole refiner of human +nature is fine art." + +"Whereas I believe that the sole refiner of art is human nature. +Art rises when men rise, and grovels when men grovel. What is +your opinion?" + +"I agree with you in many ways," replied Sir Charles nervously; +for a lack of interest in his fellow-creatures, and an excess of +interest in himself, had prevented him from obtaining that power +of dealing with social questions which, he felt, a baronet ought +to possess, and he was consequently afraid to differ from anyone +who alluded to them with confidence. "If you take an interest in +art, I believe I can show you a few things worth seeing." + +"Thank you. In return I will some day show you a remarkable +collection of photographs I possess; many of them taken by me. I +venture to think they will teach you something." + +"No doubt," said Sir Charles. "Shall we return to the gallery? I +have a few treasures there that photography is not likely to +surpass for some time yet." + +"Let's go through the conservatory," said Jane. "Don't you like +flowers, Mr. Smi--I never can remember your proper name." + +"Extremely," said Trefusis. + +They rose and went out into a long hothouse. Here Lady Brandon, +finding Erskine at her side, and Sir Charles before her with +Gertrude, looked round for Trefusis, with whom she intended to +enjoy a trifling flirtation under cover of showing him the +flowers. He was out of sight; but she heard his footsteps in the +passage on the opposite side of the greenhouse. Agatha was also +invisible. Jane, not daring to rearrange their procession lest +her design should become obvious, had to walk on with Erskine. + +Agatha had turned unintentionally into the opposite alley to that +which the others had chosen. When she saw what she had done, and +found herself virtually alone with Trefusis, who had followed +her, she blamed him for it, and was about to retrace her steps +when he said coolly: + +"Were you shocked when you heard of Henrietta's sudden death?" + +Agatha struggled with herself for a moment, and then said in a +suppressed voice: "How dare you speak to me?" + +"Why not?" said he, astonished. + +"I am not going to enter into a discussion with you. You know +what I mean very well." + +"You mean that you are offended with me; that is plain enough. +But when I part with a young lady on good terms, and after a +lapse of years, during which we neither meet nor correspond, she +asks me how I dare speak to her, I am naturally startled." + +"We did not part on good terms." + +Trefusis stretched his eyebrows, as if to stretch his memory. "If +not," he said, "I have forgotten it, on my honor. When did we +part, and what happened? It cannot have been anything very +serious, or I should remember it." + +His forgetfulness wounded Agatha. "No doubt you are well +accustomed to--" She checked herself, and made a successful +snatch at her normal manner with gentlemen. "I scarcely remember +what it was, now that I begin to think. Some trifle, I suppose. +Do you like orchids?" + +"They have nothing to do with our affairs at present. You are not +in earnest about the orchids, and you are trying to run away from +a mistake instead of clearing it up. That is a short-sighted +policy, always." + +Agatha grew alarmed, for she felt his old influence over her +returning. "I do not wish to speak of it," she said firmly. + +Her firmness was lost on him. "I do not even know what it means +yet," he said, "and I want to know, for I believe there is some +misunderstanding between us, and it is the trick of your sex to +perpetuate misunderstandings by forbidding all allusions to them. +Perhaps, leaving Lyvern so hastily, I forgot to fulfil some +promise, or to say farewell, or something of that sort. But do +you know how suddenly I was called away? I got a telegram to say +that Henrietta was dying, and I had only time to change my +clothes--you remember my disguise--and catch the express. And, +after all, she was dead when I arrived." + +"I know that," said Agatha uneasily. "Please say no more about +it." + +"Not if it distresses you. Just let me hope that you did not +suppose I blamed you for your share in the matter or that I told +the Janseniuses of it. I did not. Yes, I like orchids. A plant +that can subsist on a scrap of board is an instance of natural +econ--" + +"YOU blame ME!" cried Agatha. "_I_ never told the Janseniuses. +What would they have thought of you if I had?" + +"Far worse of you than of me, however unjustly. You were the +immediate cause of the tragedy; I only the remote one. Jansenius +is not far-seeing when his feelings are touched. Few men are." + +"I don't understand you in the least. What tragedy do you mean?" + +"Henrietta's death. I call it a tragedy conventionally. +Seriously, of course, it was commonplace enough." + +Agatha stopped and faced him. "What do you mean by what you said +just now? You said that I was the immediate cause of the tragedy, +and you say that you were talking of Henrietta's--of Henrietta. I +had nothing to do with her illness." + +Trefusis looked at her as if considering whether he would go any +further. Then, watching her with the curiosity of a vivisector, +he said: "Strange to say, Agatha," (she shrank proudly at the +word), "Henrietta might have been alive now but for you. I am +very glad she is not; so you need not reproach yourself on my +account. She died of a journey she made to Lyvern in great +excitement and distress, and in intensely cold weather. You +caused her to make that journey by writing her a letter which +made her jealous." + +"Do you mean to accuse me--" + +"No; stop!" he said hastily, the vivisecting spirit in him +exorcised by her shaking voice; "I accuse you of nothing. Why do +you not speak honestly to me when you are at your ease? If you +confess your real thoughts only under torture, who can resist the +temptation to torture you? One must charge you with homicide to +make you speak of anything but orchids." + +But Agatha had drawn the new inference from the old facts, and +would not be talked out of repudiating it. "It was not my fault," +she said. "It was yours--altogether yours." + +"Altogether," he assented, relieved to find her indignant instead +of remorseful. + +She was not to be soothed by a verbal acquiescence. "Your +behavior was most unmanly, and I told you so, and you could not +deny it. You pretended that you--You pretended to have +feelings--You tried to make me believe that Oh, I am a fool to +talk to you; you know perfectly well what I mean." + +"Perfectly. I tried to make you believe that I was in love with +you. How do you know I was not?" + +She disdained to answer; but as he waited calmly she said, "You +had no right to be." + +"That does not prove that I was not. Come, Agatha, you pretended +to like me when you did not care two straws about me. You +confessed as much in that fatal letter, which I have somewhere at +home. It has a great rent right across it, and the mark of her +heel; she must have stamped on it in her rage, poor girl! So that +I can show your own hand for the very deception you accused +me--without proof--of having practiced on you." + +"You are clever, and can twist things. What pleasure does it give +you to make me miserable?" + +"Ha!" he exclaimed, in an abrupt, sardonic laugh. "I don't know; +you bewitch me, I think." + +Agatha made no reply, but walked on quickly to the end of the +conservatory, where the others were waiting for them. + +"Where have you been, and what have you been doing all this +time?" said Jane, as Trefusis came up, hurrying after Agatha. "I +don't know what you call it, but I call it perfectly +disgraceful!" + +Sir Charles reddened at his wife's bad taste, and Trefusis +replied gravely: "We have been admiring the orchids, and talking +about them. Miss Wylie takes an interest in them." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +One morning Gertrude got a letter from her father: + +"My Dear Gerty: I have just received a bill for L110 from Madame +Smith for your dresses. May I ask you how long this sort of thing +is to go on? I need not tell you that I have not the means to +support you in such extravagance. I am, as you know, always +anxious that you should go about in a style worthy of your +position, but unless you can manage without calling on me to pay +away hundreds of pounds every season to Madame Smith, you had +better give up society and stay at home. I positively cannot +afford it. As far as I can see, going into society has not done +you much good. I had to raise L500 last month on Franklands; and +it is too bad if I must raise more to pay your dressmaker. You +might at least employ some civil person, or one whose charges are +moderate. Madame Smith tells me that she will not wait any +longer, and charges L50 for a single dress. I hope you fully +understand that there must be an end to this. + +"I hear from your mother that young Erskine is with you at +Brandon's. I do not think much of him. He is not well off, nor +likely to get on, as he has taken to poetry and so forth. I am +told also that a man named Trefusis visits at the Beeches a good +deal now. He must be a fool, for he contested the last Birmingham +election, and came out at the foot of the poll with thirty-two +votes through calling himself a Social Democrat or some such +foreign rubbish, instead of saying out like a man that he was a +Radical. I suppose the name stuck in his throat, for his mother +was one of the Howards of Breconcastle; so he has good blood in +him, though his father was nobody. I wish he had your bills to +pay; he could buy and sell me ten times over, after all my +twenty-five years' service. + +"As I am thinking of getting something done to the house, I had +rather you did not come back this month, if you can possibly hold +on at Brandon's. Remember me to him, and give our kind regards to +his wife. I should be obliged if you would gather some hemlock +leaves and send them to me. I want them for my ointment; the +stuff the chemists sell is no good. Your mother's eyes are bad +again; and your brother Berkeley has been gambling, and seems to +think I ought to pay his debts for him. I am greatly worried over +it all, and I hope that, until you have settled yourself, you +will be more reasonable, and not run these everlasting bills upon +me. You are enjoying yourself out of reach of all the +unpleasantness; but it bears hardly upon + +"Your affectionate father, "C.B. LINDSAY." + +A faint sketch of the lines Time intended to engrave on +Gertrude's brow appeared there as she read the letter; but she +hastened to give the admiral's kind regards to her host and +hostess, and discussed her mother's health feelingly with them. +After breakfast she went to the library, and wrote her reply: + +"BRANDON BEECHES, "Tuesday. + +"Dear Papa: Considering that it is more than three years since +you paid Madame Smith last, and that then her bill, which +included my court dress, was only L150, I cannot see how I could +possibly have been more economical, unless you expect me to go in +rags. I am sorry that Madame Smith has asked for the money at +such an inconvenient time, but when I begged you to pay her +something in March last year you told me to keep her quiet by +giving her a good order. I am not surprised at her not being very +civil, as she has plenty of tradesmen's daughters among her +customers who pay her more than L300 a year for their dresses. I +am wearing a skirt at present which I got two years ago. + +"Sir Charles is going to town on Thursday; he will bring you the +hemlock. Tell mamma that there is an old woman here who knows +some wonderful cure for sore eyes. She will not tell what the +ingredients are, but it cures everyone, and there is no use in +giving an oculist two guineas for telling us that reading in bed +is bad for the eyes, when we know perfectly well that mamma will +not give up doing it. If you pay Berkeley's debts, do not forget +that he owes me L3. + +"Another schoolfellow of mine is staying here now, and I think +that Mr. Trefusis will have the pleasure of paying her bills some +day. He is a great pet of Lady Brandon's. Sir Charles was angry +at first because she invited him here, and we were al1 surprised +at it. The man has a bad reputation, and headed a mob that threw +down the walls of the park; and we hardly thought he would be +cool enough to come after that. But he does not seem to care +whether we want him or not; and he comes when he likes. As he +talks cleverly, we find him a godsend in this dull place. It is +really not such a paradise as you seem to think, but you need not +be afraid of my returning any sooner than I can help. + +"Your affectionate daughter, "Gertrude Lindsay. + +When Gertrude had closed this letter, and torn up her father's, +she thought little more about either. They might have made her +unhappy had they found her happy, but as hopeless discontent was +her normal state, and enjoyment but a rare accident, +recriminatory passages with her father only put her into a bad +humor, and did not in the least disappoint or humiliate her. + +For the sake of exercise, she resolved to carry her letter to the +village post office and return along the Riverside Road, whereby +she had seen hemlock growing. She took care to go out unobserved, +lest Agatha should volunteer to walk with her, or Jane declare +her intention of driving to the post office in the afternoon, and +sulk for the rest of the day unless the trip to the village were +postponed until then. She took with her, as a protection against +tramps, a big St. Bernard dog named Max. This animal, which was +young and enthusiastic, had taken a strong fancy to her, and had +expressed it frankly and boisterously; and she, whose affections +had been starved in her home and in society, had encouraged him +with more kindness than she had ever shown to any human being. + +In the village, having posted her letter, she turned towards a +lane that led to the Riverside Road. Max, unaware of her reason +for choosing the longest way home, remonstrated by halting in the +middle of the lane, wagging his tail rapidly, and uttering gruff +barks. + +"Don't be stupid, sir," said Gertrude impatiently. "I am going +this way." + +Max, apparently understanding, rushed after her, passed her, and +disappeared in a cloud of dust raised by his effort to check +himself when he had left her far enough behind. When he came back +she kissed his nose, and ran a race with him until she too was +panting, and had to stand still to recover her breath, whilst he +bounded about, barking ferociously. She had not for many years +enjoyed such a frolic, and the thought of this presently brought +tears to her eyes. Rather peevishly she bade Max be quiet, walked +slowly to cool herself, and put up her sunshade to avert +freckles. + +The sun was now at the meridian. On a slope to Gertrude's right +hand, Sallust's House, with its cinnamon-colored walls and yellow +frieze, gave a foreign air to the otherwise very English +landscape. She passed by without remembering who lived there. +Further down, on some waste land separated from the road by a dry +ditch and a low mud wall, a cluster of hemlocks, nearly six feet +high, poisoned the air with their odor. She crossed the ditch, +took a pair of gardening gloves from her plaited straw +hand-basket, and busied herself with the hemlock leaves, pulling +the tender ones, separating them from the stalk, and filling the +basket with the web. She forgot Max until an impression of dead +silence, as if the earth had stopped, caused her to look round in +vague dread. Trefusis, with his hand abandoned to the dog, who +was trying how much of it he could cram into his mouth, was +standing within a few yards of her, watching her intently. +Gertrude turned pale, and came out hastily from among the bushes. +Then she had a strange sensation as if something had happened +high above her head. There was a threatening growl, a commanding +exclamation, and an unaccountable pause, at the expiration of +which she found herself supine on the sward, with her parasol +between her eyes and the sun. A sudden scoop of Max's wet warm +tongue in her right ear startled her into activity. She sat up, +and saw Trefusis on his knees at her side holding the parasol +with an unconcerned expression, whilst Max was snuffing at her in +restless anxiety opposite. + +"I must go home," she said. "I must go home instantly." + +"Not at all," said Trefusis, soothingly. "They have just sent +word to say that everything is settled satisfactorily and that +you need not come." + +"Have they?" she said faintly. Then she lay down again, and it +seemed to her that a very long time elapsed. Suddenly +recollecting that Trefusis had supported her gently with his hand +to prevent her falling back too rudely, she rose again, and this +time got upon her feet with his help. + +"I must go home," she said again. "It is a matter of life or +death." + +"No, no," he said softly. "It is all right. You may depend on +me." + +She looked at him earnestly. He had taken her hand to steady her, +for she was swaying a little. "Are you sure," she said, grasping +his arm. "Are you quite sure?" + +"Absolutely certain. You know I am always right, do you not?" + +"Yes, oh, yes; you have always been true to me. You--" Here her +senses came back with a rush. Dropping his hand as if it had +become red hot, she said sharply, "What are you talking about?" + +"I don't know," he said, resuming his indifferent manner with a +laugh. "Are you better? Let me drive you to the Beeches. My +stable is within a stone's throw; I can get a trap out in ten +minutes." + +"No, thank you," said Gertrude haughtily. "I do not wish to +drive." She paused, and added in some bewilderment, "What has +happened?" + +"You fainted, and--" + +"I did not faint," said Gertrude indignantly. "I never fainted in +my life." + +"Yes, you did." + +"Pardon me, Mr. Trefusis. I did not." + +"You shall judge for yourself. I was coming through this field +when I saw you gathering hemlock. Hemlock is interesting on +account of Socrates, and you were interesting as a young lady +gathering poison. So I stopped to look on. Presently you came out +from among the bushes as if you had seen a snake there. Then you +fell into my arms--which led me to suppose that you had +fainted--and Max, concluding that it was all my fault, nearly +sprang at my throat. You were overpowered by the scent of the +water-hemlock, which you must have been inhaling for ten minutes +or more." + +"I did not know that there was any danger," said Gertrude, +crestfallen. "I felt very tired when I came to. That was why I +lay so long the second time. I really could not help it." + +"You did not lie very long." + +"Not when I first fell; that was only a few seconds, I know. But +I must have lain there nearly ten minutes after I recovered." + +"You were nearly a minute insensible when you first fell, and +when you recovered you only rested for about one second. After +that you raved, and I invented suitable answers until you +suddenly asked me what I was talking about." + +Gertrude reddened a little as the possibility of her having raved +indiscreetly occurred to her. "It was very silly of me to faint," +she said. + +"You could not help it; you are only human. I shall walk with you +to the Beeches." + +"Thank you; I will not trouble you," she said quickly. + +He shook his head. "I do not know how long the effect of that +abominable water-weed may last," he said, "and I dare not leave +you to walk alone. If you prefer it I can send you in a trap with +my gardener, but I had rather accompany you myself." + +"You are giving yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble. I +will walk. I am quite well again and need no assistance." + +They started without another word. Gertrude had to concentrate +all her energy to conceal from him that she was giddy. Numbness +and lassitude crept upon her, and she was beginning to hope that +she was only dreaming it all when he roused her by saying, + +"Take my arm." + +"No, thank you." + +"Do not be so senselessly obstinate. You will have to lean on the +hedge for support if you refuse my help. I am sorry I did not +insist on getting the trap." + +Gertrude had not been spoken to in this tone since her childhood. +"I am perfectly well," she said sharply. "You are really very +officious." + +"You are not perfectly well, and you know it. However, if you +make a brave struggle, you will probably be able to walk home +without my assistance, and the effort may do you good." + +"You are very rude," she said peremptorily. + +"I know it," he replied calmly. "You will find three classes of +men polite to you--slaves, men who think much of their manners +and nothing of you, and your lovers. I am none of these, and +therefore give you back your ill manners with interest. Why do +you resist your good angel by suppressing those natural and +sincere impulses which come to you often enough, and sometimes +bring a look into your face that might tame a bear--a look which +you hasten to extinguish as a thief darkens his lantern at the +sound of a footstep." + +"Mr. Trefusis, I am not accustomed to be lectured." + +"That is why I lecture you. I felt curious to see how your good +breeding, by which I think you set some store, would serve you in +entirely novel circumstances--those of a man speaking his mind to +you, for instance. What is the result of my experiment? Instead +of rebuking me with the sweetness and dignity which I could not, +in spite of my past observation, help expecting from you, you +churlishly repel my offer of the assistance you need, tell me +that I am very rude, very officious, and, in short, do what you +can to make my position disagreeable and humiliating." + +She looked at him haughtily, but his expression was void of +offence or fear, and he continued, unanswered. + +"I would bear all this from a working woman without remonstrance, +for she would owe me no graces of manner or morals. But you are a +lady. That means that many have starved and drudged in uncleanly +discomfort in order that you may have white and unbroken hands, +fine garments, and exquisite manners--that you may be a living +fountain of those influences that soften our natures and lives. +When such a costly thing as a lady breaks down at the first touch +of a firm hand, I feel justified in complaining." + +Gertrude walked on quickly, and said between her teeth, "I don't +want to hear any of your absurd views, Mr. Trefusis." + +He laughed. "My unfortunate views!" he said. "Whenever I make an +inconvenient remark it is always set aside as an expression of +certain dangerous crazes with which I am supposed to be +afflicted. When I point out to Sir Charles that one of his +favorite artists has not accurately observed something before +attempting to draw it, he replies, 'You know our views differ on +these things, Trefusis.' When I told Miss Wylie's guardian that +his emigration scheme was little better than a fraud, he said, +'You must excuse me, but I cannot enter into your peculiar +views.' One of my views at present is that Miss Lindsay is more +amiable under the influence of hemlock than under that of the +social system which has made her so unhappy." + +"Well!" exclaimed Gertrude, outraged. Then, after a pause, "I was +under the impression that I had accepted the escort of a +gentleman." Then, after another pause, Trefusis being quite +undisturbed, "How do you know that I am unhappy?" + +"By a certain defect in your countenance, which lacks the +crowning beauty of happiness; and a certain defect in your voice +which will never disappear until you learn to love or pity those +to whom you speak." + +"You are wrong," said Gertrude, with calm disdain. "You do not +understand me in the least. I am particularly attached to my +friends." + +"Then I have never seen you in their company." + +"You are still wrong." + +"Then how can you speak as you do, look as you do, act as you +do?" + +"What do you mean? HOW do I look and act?" + +"Like one of the railings of Belgrave Square, cursed with +consciousness of itself, fears of the judgment of the other +railings, and doubts of their fitness to stand in the same row +with it. You are cold, mistrustful, cruel to nervous or clumsy +people, and more afraid of the criticisms of those with whom you +dance and dine than of your conscience. All of which prevents you +from looking like an angel." + +"Thank you. Do you consider paying compliments the perfection of +gentlemanly behavior?" + +"Have I been paying you many? That last remark of mine was not +meant as one. On my honor, the angels will not disappoint me if +they are no lovelier than you should be if you had that look in +your face and that tone in your voice I spoke of just now. It can +hardly displease you to hear that. If I were particularly +handsome myself, I should like to be told so." + +"I am sorry I cannot tell you so." + +"Oh! Ha! ha! What a retort, Miss Lindsay! You are not sorry +either; you are rather glad." + +Gertrude knew it, and was angry with herself, not because her +retort was false, but because she thought it unladylike. "You +have no right to annoy me," she exclaimed, in spite of herself. + +"None whatever," he said, humbly. " If I have done so, forgive me +before we part. I will go no further with you; Max will give the +alarm if you faint in the avenue, which I don't think you are +likely to do, as you have forgotten all about the hemlock." + +"Oh, how maddening!" she cried. "I have left my basket behind." + +"Never mind; I will find it and have it filled and sent to you." + +"Thank you. I am sorry to trouble you." + +"Not at all. I hope you do not want the hemlock to help you to +get rid of the burden of life." + +"Nonsense. I want it for my father, who uses it for medicine." + +"I will bring it myself to-morrow. Is that soon enough?" + +"Quite. I am in no hurry. Thank you, Mr. Trefusis. Good-bye." + +She gave him her hand, and even smiled a little, and then hurried +away. He stood watching her as she passed along the avenue under +the beeches. Once, when she came into a band of sunlight at a gap +in the trees, she made so pretty a figure in her spring dress of +violet and white that his eyes kindled as he gazed. He took out +his note-book, and entered her name and the date, with a brief +memorandum. + +"I have thawed her," he said to himself as he put up his book. +"She shall learn a lesson or two to hand on to her children +before I have done with her. A trifle underbred, too, or she +would not insist so much on her breeding. Henrietta used to wear +a dress like that. I am glad to see that there is no danger of +her taking to me personally." + +He turned away, and saw a crone passing, bending beneath a bundle +of sticks. He eyed it curiously; and she scowled at him and +hurried on. + +"Hallo," he said. + +She continued for a few steps, but her courage failed her and she +stopped. + +"You are Mrs. Hickling, I think?" + +"Yes, please your worship." + +"You are the woman who carried away an old wooden gate that lay +on Sir Charles Brandon's land last winter and used it for +firewood. You were imprisoned for seven days for it." + +"You may send me there again if you like," she retorted, in a +cracked voice, as she turned at bay. "But the Lord will make me +even with you some day. Cursed be them that oppress the poor and +needy; it is one of the seven deadly sins." + +"Those green laths on your back are the remainder of my garden +gate," he said. "You took the first half last Saturday. Next time +you want fuel come to the house and ask for coals, and let my +gates alone. I suppose you can enjoy a fire without stealing the +combustibles. Stow + + + +256 pay me for my gate by telling me something I want to know." + +"And a kind gentleman too, sir; blessings." + +"What is the hemlock good for?" + +"The hemlock, kind gentleman? For the evil, sir, to be sure." + +"Scrofulous ulcers!" he exclaimed, recoiling. "The father of that +beautiful girl!" He turned homeward, and trudged along with his +head bent, muttering, "All rotten to the bone. Oh, civilization! +civilization! civilization!" + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"What has come over Gertrude?" said Agatha one day to Lady +Brandon. + +"Why? Is anything the matter with her?" + +"I don't know; she has not been the same since she poisoned +herself. And why did she not tell about it? But for Trefusis we +should never have known." + +"Gertrude always made secrets of things." + +"She was in a vile temper for two days after; and now she is +quite changed. She falls into long reveries, and does not hear a +word of what is going on around. Then she starts into life again, +and begs your pardon with the greatest sweetness for not catching +what you have said." + +"I hate her when she is polite; it is not natural to her. As to +her going to sleep, that is the effect of the hemlock. We know a +man who took a spoonful of strychnine in a bath, and he never was +the same afterwards." + +"I think she is making up her mind to encourage Erskine," said +Agatha. "When I came here he hardly dared speak to her--at least, +she always snubbed him. Now she lets him talk as much as he +likes, and actually sends him on messages and allows him to carry +things for her." + +"Yes. I never saw anybody like Gertrude in my life. In London, if +men were attentive to her, she sat on them for being officious; +and if they let her alone she was angry at being neglected. +Erskine is quite good enough for her, I think." + +Here Erskine appeared at the door and looked round the room. + +"She's not here," said Jane. + +"I am seeking Sir Charles," he said, withdrawing somewhat +stiffly. + +"What a lie!" said Jane, discomfited by his reception of her +jest. "He was talking to Sir Charles ten minutes ago in the +billiard room. Men are such conceited fools!" + +Agatha had strolled to the window, and was looking discontentedly +at the prospect, as she had often done at school when alone, and +sometimes did now in society. The door opened again, and Sir +Charles appeared. He, too, looked round, but when his roving +glance reached Agatha, it cast anchor; and he came in. + +"Are you busy just now, Miss Wylie?" he asked. + +"Yes," said Jane hastily. "She is going to write a letter for +me." + +"Really, Jane," he said, "I think you are old enough to write +your letters without troubling Miss Wylie." + +"When I do write my own letters you always find fault with them," +she retorted. + +"I thought perhaps you might have leisure to try over a duet with +me," he said, turning to Agatha. + +"Certainly," she replied, hoping to smooth matters by humoring +him. "The letter will do any time before post hour." + +Jane reddened, and said shortly, "I will write it myself, if you +will not." + +Sir Charles quite lost his temper. "How can you be so damnably +rude?" he said, turning upon his wife. "What objection have you +to my singing duets with Miss Wylie?" + +"Nice language that!" said Jane. "I never said I objected; and +you have no right to drag her away to the piano just when she is +going to write a letter for me." + +"I do not wish Miss Wylie to do anything except what pleases her +best. It seems to me that writing letters to your tradespeople +cannot be a very pleasant occupation." + +"Pray don't mind me," said Agatha. "It is not the least trouble +to me. I used to write all Jane's letters for her at school. +Suppose I write the letter first, and then we can have the duet. +You will not mind waiting five minutes?" + +"I can wait as long as you please, of course. But it seems such +an absurd abuse of your good nature that I cannot help protest!" + +"Oh, let it wait!" exclaimed Jane. "Such a ridiculous fuss to +make about asking Agatha to write a letter, just because you +happen to want her to play you your duets! I am certain she is +heartily sick and tired of them." + +Agatha, to escape the altercation, went to the library and wrote +the letter. When she returned to the drawing-room, she found no +one there; but Sir Charles came in presently. + +"I am so sorry, Miss Wylie," he said, as he opened the piano for +her, "that you should be incommoded because my wife is silly +enough to be jealous." + +"Jealous!" + +"Of course. Idiocy!" + +"Oh, you are mistaken," said Agatha, incredulously. "How could +she possibly be jealous of me?" + +"She is jealous of everybody and everything," he replied +bitterly, "and she cares for nobody and for nothing. You do not +know what I have to endure sometimes from her." + +Agatha thought her most discreet course was to sit down +immediately and begin "I would that my love." Whilst she played +and sang, she thought over what Sir Charles had just let slip. +She had found him a pleasant companion, light-hearted, fond of +music and fun, polite and considerate, appreciative of her +talents, quick-witted without being oppressively clever, and, as +a married man, disinterested in his attentions. But it now +occurred to her that perhaps they had been a good deal together +of late. + +Sir Charles had by this time wandered from his part into hers; +and he now recalled her to the music by stopping to ask whether +he was right. Knowing by experience what his difficulty was +likely to be, she gave him his note and went on. They had not +been singing long when Jane came back and sat down, expressing a +hope that her presence would not disturb them. It did disturb +them. Agatha suspected that she had come there to watch them, and +Sir Charles knew it. Besides, Lady Brandon, even when her mind +was tranquil, was habitually restless. She could not speak +because of the music, and, though she held an open book in her +hand, she could not read and watch simultaneously. She gaped, and +leaned to one end of the sofa until, on the point of +overbalancing' she recovered herself with a prodigious bounce. +The floor vibrated at her every movement. At last she could keep +silence no longer. + +"Oh, dear!" she said, yawning audibly. "It must be five o'clock +at the very earliest." + +Agatha turned round upon the piano-stool, feeling that music and +Lady Brandon were incompatible. Sir Charles, for his guest's +sake, tried hard to restrain his exasperation. + +"Probably your watch will tell you," he said. + +"Thank you for nothing," said Jane. "Agatha, where is Gertrude?" + +"How can Miss Wylie possibly tell you where she is, Jane? I think +you have gone mad to-day." + +"She is most likely playing billiards with Mr. Erskine," said +Agatha, interposing quickly to forestall a retort from Jane, with +its usual sequel of a domestic squabble. + +"I think it is very strange of Gertrude to pass the whole day +with Chester in the billiard room," said Jane discontentedly. + +"There is not the slightest impropriety in her doing so," said +Sir Charles. "If our hospitality does not place Miss Lindsay +above suspicion, the more shame for us. How would you feel if +anyone else made such a remark ?" + +"Oh, stuff!" said Jane peevishly. "You are always preaching long +rigmaroles about nothing at all. I did not say there was any +impropriety about Gertrude. She is too proper to be pleasant, in +my opinion." + +Sir Charles, unable to trust himself further, frowned and left +the room, Jane speeding him with a contemptuous laugh. + +"Don't ever be such a fool as to get married," she said, when he +was gone. She looked up as she spoke, and was alarmed to see +Agatha seated on the pianoforte, with her ankles swinging in the +old school fashion. + +"Jane," she said, surveying her hostess coolly, "do you know what +I would do if I were Sir Charles?" + +Jane did not know. + +"I would get a big stick, beat you black and blue, and then lock +you up on bread and water for a week." + +Jane half rose, red and angry. "Wh--why?" she said, relapsing +upon the sofa. + +"If I were a man, I would not, for mere chivalry's sake, let a +woman treat me like a troublesome dog. You want a sound +thrashing." + +"I'd like to see anybody thrash me," said Jane, rising again and +displaying her formidable person erect. Then she burst into +tears, and said, "I won't have such things said to me in my own +house. How dare you?" + +"You deserve it for being jealous of me," said Agatha. + +Jane's eyes dilated angrily. "I!--I!--jealous of you!" She looked +round, as if for a missile. Not finding one, she sat down again, +and said in a voice stifled with tears, "J--Jealous of YOU, +indeed!" + +"You have good reason to be, for he is fonder of me than of you." + +Jane opened her mouth and eyes convulsively, but only uttered a +gasp, and Agatha proceeded calmly, "I am polite to him, which you +never are. When he speaks to me I allow him to finish his +sentence without expressing, as you do, a foregone conclusion +that it is not worth attending to. I do not yawn and talk whilst +he is singing. When he converses with me on art or literature, +about which he knows twice as much as I do, and at least ten +times as much as you" (Jane gasped again) "I do not make a silly +answer and turn to my neighbor at the other side with a remark +about the tables or the weather. When he is willing to be +pleased, as he always is, I am willing to be pleasant. And that +is why he likes me." + +"He does NOT like you. He is the same to everyone." + +"Except his wife. He likes me so much that you, like a great +goose as you are, came up here to watch us at our duets, and made +yourself as disagreeable as you possibly could whilst I was +making myself charming. The poor man was ashamed of you." + +"He wasn't," said Jane, sobbing. "I didn't do anything. I didn't +say anything. I won't bear it. I will get a divorce. I will--" + +"You will mend your ways if you have any sense left," said Agatha +remorselessly. "Do not make such a noise, or someone will come to +see what is the matter, and I shall have to get down from the +piano, where I am very comfortable." + +"It is you who are jealous." + +"Oh, is it, Jane? I have not allowed Sir Charles to fall in love +with me yet, but I can do so very easily. What will you wager +that he will not kiss me before to-morrow evening?" + +"It will be very mean and nasty of you if he does. You seem to +think that I can be treated like a child." + +"So you are a child," said Agatha, descending from her perch and +preparing to go. "An occasional slapping does you good." + +"It is nothing to you whether I agree with my husband or not," +said Jane with sudden fierceness. + +"Not if you quarrel with him in private, as wellbred couples do. +But when it occurs in my presence it makes me uncomfortable, and +I object to being made uncomfortable." + +"You would not be here at all if I had not asked you." + +"Just think how dull the house would be without me, Jane!" + +"Indeed! It was not dull before you came. Gertrude always behaved +like a lady, at least." + +"I am sorry that her example was so utterly lost on you." + +"I won't bear it," said Jane with a sob and a plunge upon the +sofa that made the lustres of the chandeliers rattle. "I wouldn't +have asked you if I had thought you could be so hateful. I will +never ask you again." + +"I will make Sir Charles divorce you for incompatibility of +temper and marry me. Then I shall have the place to myself." + +"He can't divorce me for that, thank goodness. You don't know +what you're talking about." + +Agatha laughed. "Come," she said good-humoredly, "don't be an old +ass, Jane. Wash your face before anyone sees it, and remember +what I have told you about Sir Charles." + +"It is very hard to be called an ass in one's own house." + +"It is harder to be treated as one, like your husband. I am going +to look for him in the billiard room." + +Jane ran after her, and caught her by the sleeve. + +"Agatha," she pleaded, "promise me that you won't be mean. Say +that you won't make love to him." + +"I will consider about it," replied Agatha gravely. + +Jane uttered a groan and sank into a chair, which creaked at the +shock. Agatha turned on the threshold, and seeing her shaking her +head, pressing her eyes, and tapping with her heel in a +restrained frenzy, said quickly, + +"Here are the Waltons, and the Fitzgeorges, and Mr. Trefusis +coming upstairs. How do you do, Mrs. Walton? Lady Brandon will be +SO glad to see you. Good-evening, Mr. Fitzgeorge." + +Jane sprang up, wiped her eyes, and, with her hands on her hair, +smoothing it, rushed to a mirror. No visitors appearing, she +perceived that she was, for perhaps the hundredth time in her +life, the victim of an imposture devised by Agatha. She, +gratified by the success of her attempt to regain her old +ascendancy over Jane--she had made it with misgiving, +notwithstanding her apparent confidence--went downstairs to the +library, where she found Sir Charles gloomily trying to drown his +domestic troubles in art criticism. + +"I thought you were in the billiard room," said Agatha. + +"I only peeped in," he replied; "but as I saw something +particular going on, I thought it best to slip away, and I have +been alone ever since." + +The something particular which Sir Charles had not wished to +interrupt was only a game of billiards. + +It was the first opportunity Erskine had ever enjoyed of speaking +to Gertrude at leisure and alone. Yet their conversation had +never been so commonplace. She, liking the game, played very well +and chatted indifferently; he played badly, and broached trivial +topics in spite of himself. After an hour-and-a-half's play, +Gertrude had announced that this game must be their last. He +thought desperately that if he were to miss many more strokes the +game must presently end, and an opportunity which might never +recur pass beyond recall. He determined to tell her without +preface that he adored her, but when he opened his lips a +question came forth of its own accord relating to the Persian way +of playing billiards. Gertrude had never been in Persia, but had +seen some Eastern billiard cues in the India museum. Were not the +Hindoos wonderful people for filigree work, and carpets, and such +things? Did he not think thc crookedness of their carpet patterns +a blemish? Some people pretended to admire them, but was not that +all nonsense? Was not the modern polished floor, with a rug in +the middle, much superior to the old carpet fitted into the +corners of the room? Yes. Enormously superior. Immensely-- + +"Why, what are you thinking of to-day, Mr. Erskine? You have +played with my ball." + +"I am thinking of you." + +"What did you say?" said Gertrude, not catching the serious turn +he had given to the conversation, and poising her cue for a +stroke. "Oh! I am as bad as you; that was the worst stroke I ever +made, I think. I beg your pardon; you said something just now." + +"I forget. Nothing of any consequence." And he groaned at his own +cowardice. + +"Suppose we stop," she said. "There is no use in finishing the +game if our hands are out. I am rather tired of it." + +"Certainly--if you wish it" + +"I will finish if you like." + +"Not at all. What pleases you, pleases me." + +Gertrude made him a little bow, and idly knocked the balls about +with her cue. Erskine's eyes wandered, and his lip moved +irresolutely. He had settled with himself that his declaration +should be a frank one--heart to heart. He had pictured himself in +the act of taking her hand delicately, and saying, "Gertrude, I +love you. May I tell you so again?" But this scheme did not now +seem practicable. + +"Miss Lindsay." + +Gertrude, bending over the table, looked up in alarm. + +"The present is as good an opportunity as I will--as I shall--as +I will." + +"Shall," said Gertrude. + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"SHALL," repeated Gertrude. "Did you ever study the doctrine of +necessity?" + +"The doctrine of necessity?" he said, bewildered. + +Gertrude went to the other side of the table in pursuit of a +ball. She now guessed what was coming, and was willing that it +should come; not because she intended to accept, but because, +like other young ladies experienced in such scenes, she counted +the proposals of marriage she received as a Red Indian counts the +scalps he takes. + +"We have had a very pleasant time of it here," he said, giving up +as inexplicable the relevance of the doctrine of necessity. "At +least, I have." + +"Well," said Gertrude, quick to resent a fancied allusion to her +private discontent, "so have I." + +"I am glad of that--more so than I can convey by words." + +"Is it any business of yours?" she said, following the +disagreeable vein he had unconsciously struck upon, and +suspecting pity in his efforts to be sympathetic. + +"I wish I dared hope so. The happiness of my visit has been due +to you entirely." + +"Indeed," said Gertrude, wincing as all the hard things Trefusis +had told her of herself came into her mind at the heels of +Erskine's unfortunate allusion to her power of enjoying herself. + +"I hope I am not paining you," he said earnestly. + +"I don't know what you are talking about," she said, standing +erect with sudden impatience. "You seem to think that it is very +easy to pain me." + +"No," he said timidly, puzzled by the effect he had produced. "I +fear you misunderstand me. I am very awkward. Perhaps I had +better say no more, Gertrude, by turning away to put up her cue, +signified that that was a point for him to consider; she not +intending to trouble herself about it. When she faced him again, +he was motionless and dejected, with a wistful expression like +that of a dog that has proffered a caress and received a kick. +Remorse, and a vague sense that there was something base in her +attitude towards him, overcame her. She looked at him for an +instant and left the room. + +The look excited him. He did not understand it, nor attempt to +understand it; but it was a look that he had never before seen in +her face or in that of any other woman. It struck him as a +momentary revelation of what he had written of in "The Patriot +Martyrs" as + +"The glorious mystery of a woman's heart," + +and it made him feel unfit for ordinary social intercourse. He +hastened from the house, walked swiftly down the avenue to the +lodge, where he kept his bicycle, left word there that he was +going for an excursion and should probably not return in time for +dinner, mounted, and sped away recklessly along the Riverside +Road. In less than two minutes he passed the gate of Sallust's +House, where he nearly ran over an old woman laden with a basket +of coals, who put down her burthen to scream curses after him. +Warned by this that his headlong pace was dangerous, he slackened +it a little, and presently saw Trefusis lying prone on the river +bank, with his cheeks propped on his elbows, reading intently. +Erskine, who had presented him, a few days before, with a copy of +"The Patriot Martyrs and other Poems," tried to catch a glimpse +of the book over which Trefusis was so serious. It was a Blue +Book, full of figures. Erskine rode on in disgust, consoling +himself with the recollection of Gertrude's face. + +The highway now swerved inland from the river, and rose to a +steep acclivity, at the brow of which he turned and looked back. +The light was growing ruddy, and the shadows were lengthening. +Trefusis was still prostrate in the meadow, and the old woman was +in a field, gathering hemlock. + +Erskine raced down the hill at full speed, and did not look +behind him again until he found himself at nightfall on the +skirts of a town, where he purchased some beer and a sandwich, +which he ate with little appetite. Gertrude had set up a +disturbance within him which made him impatient of eating. + +It was now dark. He was many miles from Brandon Beeches, and not +sure of the way back. Suddenly he resolved to complete his +unfinished declaration that evening. He now could not ride back +fast enough to satisfy his impatience. He tried a short cut, lost +himself, spent nearly an hour seeking the highroad, and at last +came upon a railway station just in time to catch a train that +brought him within a mile of his destination. + +When he rose from the cushions of the railway carriage he found +himself somewhat fatigued, and he mounted the bicycle stiffly. +But his resolution was as ardent as ever, and his heart beat +strongly as, after leaving his bicycle at the lodge, he walked up +the avenue through the deep gloom beneath the beeches. Near the +house, the first notes of "Grudel perche finora" reached him, and +he stepped softly on to the turf lest his footsteps on the gravel +should rouse the dogs and make them mar the harmony by barking. A +rustle made him stop and listen. Then Gertrude's voice whispered +through the darkness: + +"What did you mean by what you said to me within?" + +An extraordinary sensation shook Erskine; confused ideas of +fairyland ran through his imagination. A bitter disappointment, +like that of waking from a happy dream, followed as Trefusis's +voice, more finely tuned than he had ever heard it before, +answered, + +"Merely that the expanse of stars above us is not more +illimitable than my contempt for Miss Lindsay, nor brighter than +my hopes of Gertrude." + +"Miss Lindsay always to you, if you please, Mr. Trefusis." + +"Miss Lindsay never to me, but only to those who cannot see +through her to the soul within, which is Gertrude. There are a +thousand Miss Lindsays in the world, formal and false. There is +but one Gertrude." + +"I am an unprotected girl, Mr. Trefusis, and you can call me what +you please." + +It occurred to Erskine that this was a fit occasion to rush +forward and give Trefusis, whose figure he could now dimly +discern, a black eye. But he hesitated, and the opportunity +passed. + +"Unprotected!" said Trefusis. "Why, you are fenced round and +barred in with conventions, laws, and lies that would frighten +the truth from the lips of any man whose faith in Gertrude was +less strong than mine. Go to Sir Charles and tell him what I have +said to Miss Lindsay, and within ten minutes I shall have passed +these gates with a warning never to approach them again. I am in +your power, and were I in Miss Lindsay's power alone, my shrift +would be short. Happily, Gertrude, though she sees as yet but +darkly, feels that Miss Lindsay is her bitterest foe." + +"It is ridiculous. I am not two persons; I am only one. What does +it matter to me if your contempt for me is as illimitable as the +stars?" + +"Ah, you remember that, do you? Whenever you hear a man talking +about the stars you may conclude that he is either an astronomer +or a fool. But you and a fine starry night would make a fool of +any man." + +"I don't understand you. I try to, but I cannot; or, if I guess, +I cannot tell whether you are in earnest or not." + +"I am very much in earnest. Abandon at once and for ever all +misgivings that I am trifling with you, or passing an idle hour +as men do when they find themselves in the company of beautiful +women. I mean what I say literally, and in the deepest sense. You +doubt me; we have brought society to such a state that we all +suspect one another. But whatever is true will command belief +sooner or later from those who have wit enough to comprehend +truth. Now let me recall Miss Lindsay to consciousness by +remarking that we have been out for ten minutes, and that our +hostess is not the woman to allow our absence to pass without +comment." + +"Let us go in. Thank you for reminding me." + +"Thank you for forgetting." + +Erskine heard their footsteps retreating, and presently saw the +two enter the glow of light that shone from the open window of +the billiard room, through which they went indoors. Trefusis, a +man whom he had seen that day in a beautiful landscape, blind to +everything except a row of figures in a Blue Book, was his +successful rival, although it was plain from the very sound of +his voice that he did not--could not--love Gertrude. Only a poet +could do that. Trefusis was no poet, but a sordid brute unlikely +to inspire interest in anything more human than a public meeting, +much less in a woman, much less again in a woman so ethereal as +Gertrude. She was proud too, yet she had allowed the fellow to +insult her--had forgiven him for the sake of a few broad +compliments. Erskine grew angry and cynical. The situation did +not suit his poetry. Instead of being stricken to the heart with +a solemn sorrow, as a Patriot Martyr would have been under +similar circumstances, he felt slighted and ridiculous. He was +hardly convinced of what had seemed at first the most obvious +feature of the case, Trefusis's inferiority to himself. + +He stood under the trees until Trefusis reappeared on his way +home, making, Erskine thought, as much noise with his heels on +the gravel as a regiment of delicately bred men would have done. +He stopped for a moment to make inquiry at the lodge as he went +out; then his footsteps died away in the distance. + +Erskine, chilled, stiff, and with a sensation of a bad cold +coming on, went into the house, and was relieved to find that +Gertrude had retired, and that Lady Brandon, though she had been +sure that he had ridden into the river in the dark, had +nevertheless provided a warm supper for him. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Erskine soon found plenty of themes for his newly begotten +cynicism. Gertrude's manner towards him softened so much that he, +believing her heart given to his rival, concluded that she was +tempting him to make a proposal which she had no intention of +accepting. Sir Charles, to whom he told what he had overheard in +the avenue, professed sympathy, but was evidently pleased to +learn that there was nothing serious in the attentions Trefusis +paid to Agatha. Erskine wrote three bitter sonnets on hollow +friendship and showed them to Sir Charles, who, failing to apply +them to himself, praised them highly and showed them to Trefusis +without asking the author's permission. Trefusis remarked that in +a corrupt society expressions of dissatisfaction were always +creditable to a writer's sensibility; but he did not say much in +praise of the verse. + +"Why has he taken to writing in this vein?" he said. "Has he been +disappointed in any way of late? Has he proposed to Miss Lindsay +and been rejected?" + +"No," said Sir Charles surprised by this blunt reference to a +subject they had never before discussed. "He does not intend to +propose to Miss Lindsay." + +"But he did intend to." + +"He certainly did, but he has given up the idea." + +"Why?" said Trefusis, apparently disapproving strongly of the +renunciation. + +Sir Charles shrugged his shoulders and did not reply. + +"I am sorry to hear it. I wish you could induce him to change his +mind. He is a nice fellow, with enough to live on comfortably, +whilst he is yet what is called a poor man, so that she could +feel perfectly disinterested in marrying him. It will do her good +to marry without making a pecuniary profit by it; she will +respect herself the more afterwards, and will neither want bread +and butter nor be ashamed of her husband's origin, in spite of +having married for love alone. Make a match of it if you can. I +take an interest in the girl; she has good instincts." + +Sir Charles's suspicion that Trefusis was really paying court to +Agatha returned after this conversation, which he repeated to +Erskine, who, much annoyed because his poems had been shown to a +reader of Blue Books, thought it only a blind for Trefusis's +design upon Gertrude. Sir Charles pooh-poohed this view, and the +two friends were sharp with one another in discussing it. After +dinner, when the ladies had left them, Sir Charles, repentant and +cordial, urged Erskine to speak to Gertrude without troubling +himself as to the sincerity of Trefusis. But Erskine, knowing +himself ill able to brook a refusal, was loth to expose himself +to o + + +278 + +"If you had heard the tone of her voice when she asked him +whether he was in earnest, you would not talk to me like this," +he said despondently. "I wish he had never come here." + +"Well, that, at least, was no fault of mine, my dear fellow," +said Sir Charles. "He came among us against my will. And now that +he appears to have been in the right--legally--about the field, +it would look like spite if I cut him. Besides, he really isn't a +bad man if he would only let the women alone." + +"If he trifles with Miss Lindsay, I shall ask him to cross the +Channel, and have a shot at him." + +"I don't think he'd go," said Sir Charles dubiously. "If I were +you, I would try my luck with Gertrude at once. In spite of what +you heard, I don't believe she would marry a man of his origin. +His money gives him an advantage, certainly, but Gertrude has +sent richer men to the rightabout." + +"Let the fellow have fair play," said Erskine. "I may be wrong, +of course; all men are liable to err in judging themselves, but I +think I could make her happier than he can." + +Sir Charles was not so sure of that, but he cheerfully responded, +"Certainly. He is not the man for her at all, and you are. He +knows it, too." + +"Hmf!" muttered Erskine, rising dejectedly. "Let's go upstairs." + +"By-the-bye, we are to call on him to-morrow, to go through his +house, and his collection of photographs. Photographs! Ha, ha" +Damn his house!" said Erskine. + +Next day they went together to Sallust's House. It stood in the +midst of an acre of land, waste except a little kitchen garden at +the rear. The lodge at the entrance was uninhabited, and the +gates stood open, with dust and fallen leaves heaped up against +them. Free ingress had thus been afforded to two stray ponies, a +goat, and a tramp, who lay asleep in the grass. His wife sat +near, watching him. + +"I have a mind to turn back," said Sir Charles, looking about him +in disgust. " The place is scandalously neglected. Look at that +rascal asleep within full view of the windows." + +"I admire his cheek," said Erskine. "Nice pair of ponies, too." + +Sallust's House was square and painted cinnamon color. Beneath +the cornice was a yellow frieze with figures of dancing children, +imitated from the works of Donatello, and very unskilfully +executed. There was a meagre portico of four columns, painted +red, and a plain pediment, painted yellow. The colors, meant to +match those of the walls, contrasted disagreeably with them, +having been applied more recently, apparently by a color-blind +artist. The door beneath the portico stood open. Sir Charles rang +the bell, and an elderly woman answered it; but before they could +address her, Trefusis appeared, clad in a painter's jacket of +white jean. Following him in, they found that the house was a +hollow square, enclosing a courtyard with a bath sunk in the +middle, and a fountain in the centre of the bath. The courtyard, +formerly open to the sky, was now roofed in with dusty glass; the +nymph that had once poured out the water of the fountain was +barren and mutilated; and the bath was partly covered in with +loose boards, the exposed part accommodating a heap of coals in +one corner, a heap of potatoes in another, a beer barrel, some +old carpets, a tarpaulin, and a broken canoe. The marble pavement +extended to the outer walls of the house, and was roofed in at +the sides by the upper stories,which were supported by fluted +stone columns, much stained and chipped. The staircase, towards +which Trefusis led his visitors, was a broad one at the end +opposite the door, and gave access to a gallery leading to the +upper rooms. + +"This house was built in 11780 by an ancestor of my mother," said +Trefusis. "He passed for a man of exquisite taste. He wished the +place to be maintained forever--he actually used that expression +in his will--as the family seat, and he collected a fine library +here, which I found useful, as all the books came into my hands +in good condition, most of them with the leaves uncut. Some +people prize uncut copies of old editions; a dealer gave me three +hundred and fifty pounds for a lot of them. I came into +possession of a number of family fetishes--heirlooms, as they are +called. There was a sword that one of my forbears wore at +Edgehill and other battles in Charles the First's time. We fought +on the wrong side, of course, but the sword fetched thirty-five +shillings nevertheless. You will hardly believe that I was +offered one hundred and fifty pounds for a gold cup worth about +twenty-five, merely because Queen Elizabeth once drank from it. +This is my study. It was designed for a banqueting hall." + +They entered a room as long as the wall of the house, pierced on +one side by four tall windows, between which square pillars, with +Corinthian capitals supporting the cornice, were half sunk in the +wall. There were similar pillars on the opposite side, but +between them, instead of windows, were arched niches in which +stood life-size plaster statues, chipped, broken, and defaced in +an extraordinary fashion. The flooring, of diagonally set narrow +boards, was uncarpeted and unpolished. The ceiling was adorned +with frescoes, which at once excited Sir Charles's interest, and +he noted with indignation that a large portion of the painting at +the northern end had been destroyed and some glass roofing +inserted. In another place bolts had been driven in to support +the ropes of a trapeze and a few other pieces of gymnastic +apparatus. The walls were whitewashed, and at about four feet +from the ground a dark band appeared, produced by pencil +memoranda and little sketches scribbled on the whitewash. One end +of the apartment was unfurnished, except by the gymnastic +apparatus, a photographer's camera, a ladder in the corner, and a +common deal table with oil cans and paint pots upon it. At the +other end a comparatively luxurious show was made by a large +bookcase, an elaborate combination of bureau and writing desk, a +rack with a rifle, a set of foils, and an umbrella in it, several +folio albums on a table, some comfortable chairs and sofas, and a +thick carpet under foot. Close by, and seeming much out of place, +was a carpenter's bench with the usual implements and a number of +boards of various thicknesses. + +"This is a sort of comfort beyond the reach of any but a rich +man," said Trefusis, turning and surprising his visitors in the +act of exchanging glances of astonishment at his taste. " I keep +a drawing-room of the usual kind for receiving strangers with +whom it is necessary to be conventional, but I never enter it +except on such occasions. What do you think of this for a study?" + +"On my soul, Trefusis, I think you are mad," said Sir Charles. +"The place looks as if it had stood a siege. How did you manage +to break the statues and chip the walls so outrageously?" + +Trefusis took a newspaper from the table and said, "Listen to +this: + +'In spite of the unfavorable nature of the weather, the sport of +the Emperor and his guests in Styria has been successful. In +three days 52 chamois and 79 stags and deer fell to 19 +single-barrelled rifles, the Emperor allowing no more on this +occasion.' + +"I share the Emperor's delight in shooting, but I am no butcher, +and do not need the royal relish of blood to my sport. And I do +not share my ancestors' taste in statuary. Hence--" Here Trefusis +opened a drawer, took out a pistol, and fired at the Hebe in the +farthest niche. + +"Well done!" said Erskine coolly, as the last fragment of Hebe's +head crumbled at the touch of the bullet. + +"Very fruitlessly done," said Trefusis. "I am a good shot, but of +what use is it to me? None. I once met a gamekeeper who was a +Methodist. He was a most eloquent speaker, but A bad shot. If he +could have swapped talents with me I would have given him ten +thousand pounds to boot willingly, although he would have +profited as much as I by the exchange alone. I have no more +desire or need to be a good shot than to be king of England, or +owner of a Derby winner, or anything else equally ridiculous, and +yet I never missed my aim in my life--thank blind fortune for +nothing!" + +"King of England!" said Erskine, with a scornful laugh, to show +Trefusis that other people were as liberty-loving as he. "Is it +not absurd to hear a nation boasting of its freedom and +tolerating a king?" + +"Oh, hang your republicanism, Chester!" said Sir Charles, who +privately held a low opinion of the political side of the Patriot +Martyrs. + +"I won't he put down on that point," said Erskine. "I admire a +man that kills a king. You will agree with me there, Trefusis, +won't you?" + +"Certainly not," said Trefusis. "A king nowadays is only a dummy +put up to draw your fire off the real oppressors of society, and +the fraction of his salary that he can spend as he likes is +usually far too small for his risk, his trouble, and the +condition of personal slavery to which he is reduced. What +private man in England is worse off than the constitutional +monarch? We deny him all privacy; he may not marry whom he +chooses, consort with whom he prefers, dress according to his +taste, or live where he pleases. I don't believe he may even eat +or drink what he likes best; a taste for tripe and onions on his +part would provoke a remonstrance from the Privy Council. We +dictate everything except his thoughts and dreams, and even these +he must keep to himself if they are not suitable, in our opinion, +to his condition. The work we impose on him has all the hardship +of mere task work; it is unfruitful, incessant, monotonous, and +has to be transacted for the most part with nervous bores. We +make his kingdom a treadmill to him, and drive him to and fro on +the face of it. Finally, having taken everything else that men +prize from him, we fall upon his character, and that of every +person to whom he ventures to show favor. We impose enormous +expenses on him, stint him, and then rail at his parsimony. We +use him as I use those statues--stick him up in the place of +honor for our greater convenience in disfiguring and abusing him. +We send him forth through our crowded cities, proclaiming that he +is the source of all good and evil in the nation, and he, knowing +that many people believe it, knowing that it is a lie, and that +he is powerless to shorten the working day by one hour, raise +wages one penny, or annul the smallest criminal sentence, however +unjust it may seem to him; knowing that every miner in the +kingdom can manufacture dynamite, and that revolvers are sold for +seven and sixpence apiece; knowing that he is not bullet proof, +and that every king in Europe has been shot at in the streets; he +must smile and bow and maintain an expression of gracious +enjoyment whilst the mayor and corporation inflict upon him the +twaddling address he has heard a thousand times before. I do not +ask you to be loyal, Erskine; but I expect you, in common +humanity, to sympathize with the chief figure in the pageant, who +is no more accountable for the manifold evils and abominations +that exist in his realm than the Lord Mayor is accountable for +the thefts of the pickpockets who follow his show on the ninth of +November." + +Sir Charles laughed at the trouble Trefusis took to prove his +case, and said soothingly, "My dear fellow, kings are used to it, +and expect it, and like it." + +"And probably do not see themselves as I see them, any more than +common people do," assented Trefusis. + +"What an exquisite face!" exclaimed Erskine suddenly, catching +sight of a photograph in a rich gold and coral frame on a +miniature easel draped with ruby velvet. Trefusis turned quickly, +so evidently gratified that Sir Charles hastened to say, +"Charming!" Then, looking at the portrait, he added, as if a +little startled, "It certainly is an extraordinarily attractive +face." + +"Years ago," said Trefusis, "when I saw that face for the first +time, I felt as you feel now." + +Silence ensued, the two visitors looking at the portrait, +Trefusis looking at them. + +"Curious style of beauty," said Sir Charles at last, not quite so +assuredly as before. + +Trefusis laughed unpleasantly. "Do you recognize the artist--the +enthusiastic amateur--in her?" he said, opening another drawer +and taking out a bundle of drawings, which he handed to be +examined. + +"Very clever. Very clever indeed," said Sir Charles. "I should +like to meet the lady." + +"I have often been on the point of burning them," said Trefusis; +"but there they are, and there they are likely to remain. The +portrait has been much admired." + +"Can you give us an introduction to the original, old fellow?" +said Erskine. + +"No, happily. She is dead." + +Disagreeably shocked, they looked at him for a moment with +aversion. Then Erskine, turning with pity and disappointment to +the picture, said, "Poor girl! Was she married?" + +"Yes. To me." + +"Mrs. Trefusis!" exclaimed Sir Charles. "Ah! Dear me!" + +Erskine, with proof before him that it was possible for a +beautiful girl to accept Trefusis, said nothing. + +"I keep her portrait constantly before me to correct my natural +amativeness. I fell in love with her and married her. I have +fallen in love once or twice since but a glance at my lost Hetty +has cured me of the slightest inclination to marry." + +Sir Charles did not reply. It occurred to him that Lady Brandon's +portrait, if nothing else were left of her, might be useful in +the same way. + +"Come, you will marry again one of these days," said Erskine, in +a forced tone of encouragement. + +"It is possible. Men should marry, especially rich men. But I +assure you I have no present intention of doing so." + +Erskine's color deepened, and he moved away to the table where +the albums lay. + +"This is the collection of photographs I spoke of," said +Trefusis, following him and opening one of the books. "I took +many of them myself under great difficulties with regard to +light--the only difficulty that money could not always remove. +This is a view of my father's house--or rather one of his houses. +It cost seventy-five thousand pounds." + +"Very handsome indeed," said Sir Charles, secretly disgusted at +being invited to admire a photograph, such as house agents +exhibit, of a vulgarly designed country house, merely because it +had cost seventy-five thousand pounds. The figures were actually +written beneath the picture. + +"This is the drawing-room, and this one of the best bedrooms. In +the right-hand corner of the mount you will see a note of the +cost of the furniture, fittings, napery, and so forth. They were +of the most luxurious description." + +"Very interesting," said Sir Charles, hardly disguising the irony +of the comment. + +"Here is a view--this is the first of my own attempts--of the +apartment of one of the under servants. It is comfortable and +spacious, and solidly furnished." + +"So I perceive." + +"These are the stables. Are they not handsome?" + +"Palatial. Quite palatial." + +"There is every luxury that a horse could desire, including +plenty of valets to wait on him. You are noting the figures, I +hope. There is the cost of the building and the expenditure per +horse per annum." + +"I see." + +"Here is the exterior of a house. What do you think of it?" + +"It is rather picturesque in its dilapidation." + +"Picturesque! Would you like to live in it?" + +"No," said Erskine. "I don't see anything very picturesque about +it. What induced you to photograph such a wretched old rookery?" + +"Here is a view of the best room in it. Photography gives you a +fair idea of the broken flooring and patched windows, but you +must imagine the dirt and the odor of the place. Some of the +stains are weather stains, others came from smoke and filth. The +landlord of the house holds it from a peer and lets it out in +tenements. Three families occupied that room when I photographed +it. You will see by the figures in the corner that it is more +profitable to the landlord than an average house in Mayfair. Here +is the cellar, let to a family for one and sixpence a week, and +considered a bargain. The sun never shines there, of course. I +took it by artificial light. You may add to the rent the cost of +enough bad beer to make the tenant insensible to the filth of the +place. Beer is the chloroform that enables the laborer to endure +the severe operation of living; that is why we can always assure +one another over our wine that the rascal's misery is due to his +habit of drinking. We are down on him for it, because, if he +could bear his life without beer, we should save his +beer-money--get him for lower wages. In short, we should be +richer and he soberer. Here is the yard; the arrangements are +indescribable. Seven of the inhabitants of that house had worked +for years in my father's mill. That is, they had created a +considerable part of the vast sums of money for drawing your +attention to which you were disgusted with me just now." + +"Not at all," said Sir Charles faintly. + +"You can see how their condition contrasts with that of my +father's horses. The seven men to whom I have alluded, with three +hundred others, were thrown destitute upon the streets by this." +(Here he turned over a leaf and displayed a photograph of an +elaborate machine.) "It enabled my father to dispense with their +services, and to replace them by a handful of women and children. +He had bought the patent of the machine for fifty pounds from the +inventor, who was almost ruined by the expenses of his ingenuity, +and would have sacrificed anything for a handful of ready money. +Here is a portrait of my father in his masonic insignia. He +believed that freemasons generally get on in the world, and as +the main object of his life was to get on, he joined them, and +wanted me to do the same. But I object to pretended secret +societies and hocus pocus, and would not. You see what he was--a +portly, pushing, egotistical tradesman. Mark the successful man, +the merchant prince with argosies on every sea, the employer of +thousands of hands, the munificent contributor to public +charities, the churchwarden, the member of parliament, and the +generous patron of his relatives his self-approbation struggling +with the instinctive sense of baseness in the money-hunter, the +ignorant and greedy filcher of the labor of others, the seller of +his own mind and manhood for luxuries and delicacies that he was +too lowlived to enjoy, and for the society of people who made him +feel his inferiority at every turn." + +"And the man to whom you owe everything you possess," said +Erskine boldly. + +"I possess very little. Everything he left me, except a few +pictures, I spent long ago, and even that was made by his slaves +and not by him. My wealth comes day by day fresh from the labor +of the wretches who live in the dens I have just shown you, or of +a few aristocrats of labor who are within ten shillings a week of +being worse off. However, there is some excuse for my father. +Once, at an election riot, I got into a free fight. I am a +peaceful man, but as I had either to fight or be knocked down and +trampled upon, I exchanged blows with men who were perhaps as +peacefully disposed as I. My father, launched into a free +competition (free in the sense that the fight is free: that is, +lawless)--my father had to choose between being a slave himself +and enslaving others. He chose the latter, and as he was +applauded and made much of for succeeding, who dare blame him? +Not I. Besides, he did something to destroy the anarchy that +enabled him to plunder society with impunity. He furnished me, +its enemy, with the powerful weapon of a large fortune. Thus our +system of organizing industry sometimes hatches the eggs from +which its destroyers break. Does Lady Brandon wear much lace?" + +"I--No; that is--How the deuce dO I know, Trefusis? What an +extraordinary question!" + +"This is a photograph of a lace school. It was a filthy room, +twelve feet square. It was paved with brick, and the children +were not allowed to wear their boots, lest the lace should get +muddy. However, as there were twenty of them working there for +fifteen hours a day--all girls--they did not suffer much from +cold. They were pretty tightly packed--may be still, for aught I +know. They brought three or four shillings a week sometimes to +their fond parents; and they were very quick-fingered little +creatures, and stuck intensely to their work, as the overseer +always hit them when they looked up or--" + +"Trefusis," said Sir Charles, turning away from the table, "I beg +your pardon, but I have no appetite for horrors. You really must +not ask me to go through your collection. It is no doubt very +interesting, but I can't stand it. Have you nothing pleasant to +entertain me with?" + +"Pooh! you are squeamish. However, as you are a novice, let us +put off the rest until you are seasoned. The pictures are not all +horrible. Each book refers to a different country. That one +contains illustrations of modern civilization in Germany, for +instance. That one is France; that, British India. Here you have +the United States of America, home of liberty, theatre of manhood +suffrage, kingless and lordless land of Protection, +Republicanism, and the realized Radical Programme, where all the +black chattel slaves were turned into wage-slaves (like my +father's white fellows) at a cost of 800,000 lives and wealth +incalculable. You and I are paupers in comparison with the great +capitalists of that country, where the laborers fight for bones +with the Chinamen, like dogs. Some of these great men presented +me with photographs of their yachts and palaces, not anticipating +the use to which I would put them. Here are some portraits that +will not harrow your feelings. This is my mother, a woman of good +family, every inch a lady. Here is a Lancashire lass, the +daughter of a common pitman. She has exactly the same physical +characteristics as my well-born mother--the same small head, +delicate features, and so forth; they might be sisters. This +villainous-looking pair might be twin brothers, except that there +is a trace of good humor about the one to the right. The +good-humored one is a bargee on the Lyvern Canal. The other is +one of the senior noblemen of the British Peerage. They +illustrate the fact that Nature, even when perverted by +generations of famine fever, ignores the distinctions we set up +between men. This group of men and women, all tolerably +intelligent and thoughtful looking, are so-called enemies of +society--Nihilists, Anarchists, Communards, members of the +International,and so on. These other poor devils, worried, stiff, +strumous, awkward, vapid, and rather coarse, with here and there +a passably pretty woman, are European kings, queens, grand-dukes, +and the like. Here are ship-captains, criminals, poets, men of +science, peers, peasants, political economists, and +representatives of dozens of degrees. The object of the +collection is to illustrate the natural inequality of man, and +the failure of our artificial inequality to correspond with it." + +"It seems to me a sort of infernal collection for the upsetting +of people's ideas," said Erskine. "You ought to label it 'A +Portfolio of Paradoxes.'" + +"In a rational state of society they would be paradoxes; but now +the time gives them proof--like Hamlet's paradox. It is, however, +a collection of facts; and I will give no fanciful name to it. +You dislike figures, don't you?" + +"Unless they are by Phidias, yes." + +"Here are a few, not by Phidias. This is the balance sheet of an +attempt I made some years ago to carry out the idea of an +International Association of Laborers--commonly known as THE +International--or union of all workmen throughout the world in +defence of the interests of labor. You see the result. +Expenditure, four thousand five hundred pounds. Subscriptions +received from working-men, twenty-two pounds seven and ten pence +halfpenny. The British workmen showed their sense of my efforts +to emancipate them by accusing me of making a good thing out of +the Association for my own pocket, and by mobbing and stoning me +twice. I now help them only when they show some disposition to +help themselves. I occupy myself partly in working out a scheme +for the reorganization of industry, and partly in attacking my +own class, women and all, as I am attacking you." + +"There is little use in attacking us, I fear," said Sir Charles. + +"Great use," said Trefusis confidently. "You have a very +different opinion of our boasted civilization now from that which +you held when I broke your wall down and invited those Land +Nationalization zealots to march across your pleasure ground. You +have seen in my album something you had not seen an hour ago, and +you are consequently not quite the same man you were an hour ago. +My pictures stick in the mind longer than your scratchy etchings, +or the leaden things in which you fancy you see tender harmonies +in gray. Erskine's next drama may be about liberty, but its +Patriot Martyrs will have something better to do than spout +balderdash against figure-head kings who in all their lives never +secretly plotted as much dastardly meanness, greed, cruelty, and +tyranny as is openly voted for in London by every half-yearly +meeting of dividend-consuming vermin whose miserable wage-slaves +drudge sixteen hours out of the twenty-four." + +"What is going to be the end of it all?" said Sir Charles, a +little dazed. + +"Socialism or Smash. Socialism if the race has at last evolved +the faculty of coordinating the functions of a society too +crowded and complex to be worked any longer on the old haphazard +private-property system. Unless we reorganize our society +socialistically--humanly a most arduous and magnificent +enterprise, economically a most simple and sound one--Free Trade +by itself will ruin England, and I will tell you exactly how. +When my father made his fortune we had the start of all other +nations in the organization of our industry and in our access to +iron and coal. Other nations bought our products for less than +they must have spent to raise them at home, and yet for so much +more than they cost us, that profits rolled in Atlantic waves +upon our capitalists. When the workers, by their trades-unions, +demanded a share of the luck in the form of advanced wages, it +paid better to give them the little they dared to ask than to +stop gold-gathering to fight and crush them. But now our +customers have set up in their own countries improved copies of +our industrial organization, and have discovered places where +iron and coal are even handier than they are by this time in +England. They produce for themselves, or buy elsewhere, what they +formerly bought from us. Our profits are vanishing, our machinery +is standing idle, our workmen are locked out. It pays now to stop +the mills and fight and crush the unions when the men strike, no +longer for an advance, but against a reduction. Now that these +unions are beaten, helpless, and drifting to bankruptcy as the +proportion of unemployed men in their ranks becomes greater, they +are being petted and made much of by our class; an infallible +sign that they are making no further progress in their duty of +destroying us. The small capitalists are left stranded by the +ebb; the big ones will follow the tide across the water, and +rebuild their factories where steam power, water power, labor +power, and transport are now cheaper than in England, where they +used to be cheapest. The workers will emigrate in pursuit of the +factory, but they will multiply faster than they emigrate, and be +told that their own exorbitant demand for wages is driving +capital abroad, and must continue to do so whilst there is a +Chinaman or a Hindoo unemployed to underbid them. As the British +factories are shut up, they will be replaced by villas; the +manufacturing districts will become fashionable resorts for +capitalists living on the interest of foreign investments; the +farms and sheep runs will be cleared for deer forests. All +products that can in the nature of things be manufactured +elsewhere than where they are consumed will be imported in +payment of deer-forest rents from foreign sportsmen, or of +dividends due to shareholders resident in England, but holding +shares in companies abroad, and these imports will not be paid +for by ex ports, because rent and interest are not paid for at +all--a fact which the Free Traders do not yet see, or at any rate +do not mention, although it is the key to the whole mystery of +their opponents. The cry for Protection will become wild, but no +one will dare resort to a demonstrably absurd measure that must +raise prices before it raises wages, and that has everywhere +failed to benefit the worker. There will be no employment for +anyone except in doing things that must be done on the spot, such +as unpacking and distributing the imports, ministering to the +proprietors as domestic servants, or by acting, preaching, +paving, lighting, housebuilding, and the rest; and some of these, +as the capitalist comes to regard ostentation as vulgar, and to +enjoy a simpler life, will employ fewer and fewer people. A vast +proletariat, beginning with a nucleus of those formerly employed +in export trades, with their multiplying progeny, will be out of +employment permanently. They will demand access to the land and +machinery to produce for themselves. They will be refused. They +will break a few windows and be dispersed with a warning to their +leaders. They will burn a few houses and murder a policeman or +two, and then an example will be made of the warned. They will +revolt, and be shot down with +machine-guns--emigrated--exterminated anyhow and everyhow; for +the proprietary classes have no idea of any other means of +dealing with the full claims of labor. You yourself, though you +would give fifty pounds to Jansenius's emigration fund readily +enough, would call for the police, the military, and the Riot +Act, if the people came to Brandon Beeches and bade you turn out +and work for your living with the rest. Well, the superfluous +proletariat destroyed, there will remain a population of +capitalists living on gratuitous imports and served by a +disaffected retinue. One day the gratuitous imports will stop in +consequence of the occurrence abroad of revolution and +repudiation, fall in the rate of interest, purchase of industries +by governments for lump sums, not reinvestable, or what not. Our +capitalist community is then thrown on the remains of the last +dividend, which it consumes long before it can rehabilitate its +extinct machinery of production in order to support itself with +its own hands. Horses, dogs, cats, rats, blackberries, mushrooms, +and cannibalism only postpone--" + +"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted Sir Charles. "On my honor, I thought you +were serious at first, Trefusis. Come, confess, old chap; it's +all a fad of yours. I half suspected you of being a bit of a +crank." And he winked at Erskine. + +"What I have described to you is the inevitable outcome of our +present Free Trade policy without Socialism. The theory of Free +Trade is only applicable to systems of exchange, not to systems +of spoliation. Our system is one of spoliation, and if we don't +abandon it, we must either return to Protection or go to smash by +the road I have just mapped. Now, sooner than let the +Protectionists triumph, the Cobden Club itself would blow the +gaff and point out to the workers that Protection only means +compelling the proprietors of England to employ slaves resident +in England and therefore presumably--though by no means +necessarily--Englishmen. This would open the eyes of the nation +at last to the fact that England is not their property. Once let +them understand that and they would soon make it so. When England +is made the property of its inhabitants collectively, England +becomes socialistic. Artificial inequality will vanish then +before real freedom of contract; freedom of competition, or +unhampered emulation, will keep us moving ahead; and Free Trade +will fulfil its promises at last." + +"And the idlers and loafers," said Erskine. "What of them?" + +"You and I, in fact," said Trefusis, "die of starvation, I +suppose, unless we choose to work, or unless they give us a +little out-door relief in consideration of our bad bringing-up." + +"Do you mean that they will plunder us?" said Sir Charles. + +"I mean that they will make us stop plundering them. If they +hesitate to strip us naked, or to cut our throats if we offer +them the smallest resistance, they will show us more mercy than +we ever showed them. Consider what we have done to get our rents +in Ireland and Scotland, and our dividends in Egypt, if you have +already forgotten my photographs and their lesson in our +atrocities at home. Why, man, we murder the great mass of these +toilers with overwork and hardship; their average lifetime is not +half as long as ours. Human nature is the same in them as in us. +If we resist them, and succeed in restoring order, as we call it, +we will punish them mercilessly for their insubordination, as we +did in Paris in 1871, where, by-the-bye, we taught them the folly +of giving their enemies quarter. If they beat us, we shall catch +it, and serve us right. Far better turn honest at once and avert +bloodshed. Eh, Erskine?" + +Erskine was considering what reply he should make, when Trefusis +disconcerted him by ringing a bell. Presently the elderly woman +appeared, pushing before her an oblong table mounted on wheels, +like a barrow. + +"Thank you," said Trefusis, and dismissed her. "Here is some good +wine, some good water, some good fruit, and some good bread. I +know that you cling to wine as to a good familiar creature. As +for me, I make no distinction between it and other vegetable +poisons. I abstain from them all. Water for serenity, wine for +excitement. I, having boiling springs of excitement within +myself, am never at a loss for it, and have only to seek +serenity. However," (here he drew a cork), "a generous goblet of +this will make you feel like gods for half an hour at least. +Shall we drink to your conversion to Socialism?" + +Sir Charles shook his head. + +"Come, Mr. Donovan Brown, the great artist, is a Socialist, and +why should not you be one?" + +"Donovan Brown!" exclaimed Sir Charles with interest. "Is it +possible? Do you know him personally?" + +"Here are several letters from him. You may read them; the mere +autograph of such a man is interesting." + +Sir Charles took the letters and read them earnestly, Erskine +reading over his shoulder. + +"I most cordially agree with everything he says here," said Sir +Charles. "It is quite true, quite true." + +"Of course you agree with us. Donovan Brown's eminence as an +artist has gained me one recruit, and yours as a baronet will +gain me some more." + +"But--" + +"But what?" said Trefusis, deftly opening one of the albums at a +photograph of a loathsome room. + +"You are against that, are you not? Donovan Brown is against it, +and I am against it. You may disagree with us in everything else, +but there you are at one with us. Is it not so?" + +"But that may be the result of drunkenness, improvidence, or--" + +"My father's income was fifty times as great as that of Donovan +Brown. Do you believe that Donovan Brown is fifty times as +drunken and improvident as my father was?" + +"Certainly not. I do not deny that there is much in what you +urge. Still, you ask me to take a rather important step." + +"Not a bit of it. I don't ask you to subscribe to, join, or in +any way pledge yourself to any society or conspiracy whatsoever. +I only want your name for private mention to cowards who think +Socialism right, but will not say so because they do not think it +respectable. They will not be ashamed of their convictions when +they learn that a baronet shares them. Socialism offers you +something already, you see; a good use for your hitherto useless +title." + +Sir Charles colored a little, conscious that the example of his +favorite painter had influenced him more than his own conviction +or the arguments of Trefusis. + +"What do you think, Chester?" he said. "Will you join?" + +"Erskine is already committed to the cause of liberty by his +published writings," said Trefusis. "Three of the pamphlets on +that shelf contain quotations from 'The Patriot Martyrs.'" + +Erskine blushed, flattered by being quoted; an attention that had +been shown him only once before, and then by a reviewer with the +object of proving that the Patriot Martyrs were slovenly in their +grammar. + +"Come!" said Trefusis. "Shall I write to Donovan Brown that his +letters have gained the cordial assent and sympathy of Sir +Charles Brandon?" + +"Certainly, certainly. That is, if my unknown name would be of +the least interest to him." + +"Good," said Trefusis, filling his glass with water. "Erskine, +let us drink to our brother Social Democrat." + +Erskine laughed loudly, but not heartily. "What an ass you are, +Brandon!" he said. "You, with a large landed estate, and bags of +gold invested in railways, calling yourself a Social Democrat! +Are you going to sell out and distribute--to sell all that thou +hast and give to the poor?" + +"Not a penny," replied Trefusis for him promptly. "A man cannot +be a Christian in this country. I have tried it and found it +impossible both in law and in fact. I am a capitalist and a +landholder. I have railway shares, mining shares, building +shares, bank shares, and stock of most kinds; and a great trouble +they are to me. But these shares do not represent wealth actually +in existence; they are a mortgage on the labor of unborn +generations of laborers, who must work to keep me and mine in +idleness and luxury. If I sold them, would the mortgage be +cancelled and the unborn generations released from its thrall? +No. It would only pass into the hands of some other capitalist, +and the working class would be no better off for my +self-sacrifice. Sir Charles cannot obey the command of Christ; I +defy him to do it. Let him give his land for a public park; only +the richer classes will have leisure to enjoy it. Plant it at the +very doors of the poor, so that they may at last breathe its air, +and it will raise the value of the neighboring houses and drive +the poor away. Let him endow a school for the poor, like Eton or +Christ's Hospital, and the rich will take it for their own +children as they do in the two instances I have named. Sir +Charles does not want to minister to poverty, but to abolish it. +No matter how much you give to the poor, everything except a bare +subsistence wage will be taken from them again by force. All talk +of practicing Christianity, or even bare justice, is at present +mere waste of words. How can you justly reward the laborer when +you cannot ascertain the value of what he makes, owing to the +prevalent custom of stealing it? I know this by experience. I +wanted to pay a just price for my wife's tomb, but I could not +find out its value, and never shall. The principle on which we +farm out our national industry to private marauders, who +recompense themselves by black-mail, so corrupts and paralyzes us +that we cannot be honest even when we want to. And the reason we +bear it so calmly is that very few of us really want to." + +"I must study this question of value," said Sir Charles +dubiously, refilling his goblet. "Can you recommend me a good +book on the subject?" + +"Any good treatise on political economy will do," said Trefusis. +"In economics all roads lead to Socialism, although in nine cases +out of ten, so far, the economist doesn't recognize his +destination, and incurs the malediction pronounced by Jeremiah on +those who justify the wicked for reward. I will look you out a +book or two. And if you will call on Donovan Brown the next time +you are in London, he will be delighted, I know. He meets with +very few who are capable of sympathizing with him from both his +points of view--social and artistic." + +Sir Charles brightened on being reminded of Donovan Brown. "I +shall esteem an introduction to him a great honor," he said. "I +had no idea that he was a friend of yours." + +"I was a very practical young Socialist when I first met him," +said Trefusis. "When Brown was an unknown and wretchedly poor +man, my mother, at the petition of a friend of his, charitably +bought one of his pictures for thirty pounds, which he was very +glad to get. Years afterwards, when my mother was dead, and Brown +famous, I was offered eight hundred pounds for this picture, +which was, by-the-bye, a very bad one in my opinion. Now, after +making the usual unjust allowance for interest on thirty pounds +for twelve years or so that had elapsed, the sale of the picture +would have brought me in a profit of over seven hundred and fifty +pounds, an unearned increment to which I had no righteous claim. +My solicitor, to whom I mentioned the matter, was of opinion that +I might justifiably pocket the seven hundred and fifty pounds as +reward for my mother's benevolence in buying a presumably +worthless picture from an obscure painter. But he failed to +convince me that I ought to be paid for my mother's virtues, +though we agreed that neither I nor my mother had received any +return in the shape of pleasure in contemplating the work, which +had deteriorated considerably by the fading of the colors since +its purchase. At last I went to Brown's studio with the picture, +and told him that it was worth nothing to me, as I thought it a +particularly bad one, and that he might have it back again for +fifteen pounds, half the first price. He at once told me that I +could get from any dealer more for it than he could afford to +give me; but he told me too that I had no right to make a profit +out of his work, and that he would give me the original price of +thirty pounds. I took it, and then sent him the man who had +offered me the eight hundred. To my discomfiture Brown refused to +sell it on any terms, because he considered it unworthy of his +reputation. The man bid up to fifteen hundred, but Brown held +out; and I found that instead of putting seven hundred and +seventy pounds into his pocket I had taken thirty out of it. I +accordingly offered to return the thirty pieces. Brown, taking +the offer as an insult, declined all further communication with +me. I then insisted on the matter being submitted to arbitration, +and demanded fifteen hundred pounds as the full exchange value of +the picture. All the arbitrators agreed that this was monstrous, +whereupon I contended that if they denied my right to the value +in exchange, they must admit my right to the value in use. They +assented to this after putting off their decision for a fortnight +in order to read Adam Smith and discover what on earth I meant by +my values in use and exchange. I now showed that the picture had +no value in use to me, as I disliked it, and that therefore I was +entitled to nothing, and that Brown must take back the thirty +pounds. They were glad to concede this also to me, as they were +all artist friends of Brown, and wished him not to lose money by +the transaction, though they of course privately thought that the +picture was, as I described it, a bad one. After that Brown and I +became very good friends. He tolerated my advances, at first lest +it should seem that he was annoyed by my disparagement of his +work. Subsequently he fell into my views much as you have done." + +"That is very interesting," said Sir Charles. "What a noble +thing--refusing fifteen hundred pounds! He could ill afford it, +probably." + +"Heroic--according to nineteenth century notions of heroism. +Voluntarily to throw away a chance of making money! that is the +ne plus ultra of martyrdom. Brown's wife was extremely angry with +him for doing it." + +"It is an interesting story--or might be made so," said Erskine. +"But you make my head spin with your confounded exchange values +and stuff. Everything is a question of figures with you." + +"That comes of my not being a poet," said Trefusis. "But we +Socialists need to study the romantic side of our movement to +interest women in it. If you want to make a cause grow, instruct +every woman you meet in it. She is or will one day be a wife, and +will contradict her husband with scraps of your arguments. A +squabble will follow. The son will listen, and will be set +thinking if he be capable of thought. And so the mind of the +people gets leavened. I have converted many young women. Most of +them know no more of the economic theory of Socialism than they +know of Chaldee; but they no longer fear or condemn its name. Oh, +I assure you that much can be done in that way by men who are not +afraid of women, and who are not in too great a hurry to see the +harvest they have sown for." + +"Take care. Some of your lady proselytes may get the better of +you some day. The future husband to be contradicted may be Sidney +Trefusis. Ha! ha! ha!" Sir Charles had emptied a second large +goblet of wine, and was a little flushed and boisterous. + +"No," said Trefusis, "I have had enough of love myself, and am +not likely to inspire it. Women do not care for men to whom, as +Erskine says, everything is a question of figures. I used to +flirt with women; now I lecture them, and abhor a man-flirt worse +than I do a woman one. Some more wine? Oh, you must not waste the +remainder of this bottle." + +"I think we had better go, Brandon," said Erskine, his mistrust +of Trefusis growing. "We promised to be back before two." + +"So you shall," said Trefusis. "It is not yet a quarter past one. +By-the-bye, I have not shown you Donovan Brown's pet instrument +for the regeneration of society. Here it is. A monster petition +praying that the holding back from the laborer of any portion of +the net value produced by his labor be declared a felony. That is +all." + +Erskine nudged Sir Charles, who said hastily, "Thank you, but I +had rather not sign anything." + +"A baronet sign such a petition!" exclaimed Trefusis. "I did not +think of asking you. I only show it to you as an interesting +historical document, containing the autographs of a few artists +and poets. There is Donovan Brown's for example. It was he who +suggested the petition, which is not likely to do much good, as +the thing cannot be done in any such fashion However, I have +promised Brown to get as many signatures as I can; so you may as +well sign it, Erskine. It says nothing in blank verse about the +holiness of slaying a tyrant, but it is a step in the right +direction. You will not stick at such a trifle--unless the +reviews have frightened you. Come, your name and address." + +Erskine shook his head. + +"Do you then only commit yourself to revolutionary sentiments +when there is a chance of winning fame as a poet by them?" + +"I will not sign, simply because I do not choose to," said +Erskine warmly. + +"My dear fellow," said Trefusis, almost affectionately, "if a man +has a conscience he can have no choice in matters of conviction. +I have read somewhere in your book that the man who will not shed +his blood for the liberty of his brothers is a coward and a +slave. Will you not shed a drop of ink--my ink, too--for the +right of your brothers to the work of their hands? I at first +sight did not care to sign this petition, because I would as soon +petition a tiger to share his prey with me as our rulers to relax +their grip of the stolen labor they live on. But Donovan Brown +said to me, 'You have no choice. Either you believe that the +laborer should have the fruit of his labor or you do not. If you +do, put your conviction on record, even if it should be as +useless as Pilate's washing his hands.' So I signed." + +"Donovan Brown was right," said Sir Charles. "I will sign." And +he did so with a flourish. + +"Brown will be delighted," said Trefusis. "I will write to him +to-day that I have got another good signature for him." + +"Two more," said Sir Charles. "You shall sign, Erskine; hang me +if you shan't! It is only against rascals that run away without +paying their men their wages." + +"Or that don't pay them in full," observed Trefusis, with a +curious smile. "But do not sign if you feel uncomfortable about +it." + +"If you don't sign after me, you are a sneak, Chester," said Sir +Charles. + +"I don't know what it means," said Erskine, wavering. "I don't +understand petitions." + +"It means what it says; you cannot be held responsible for any +meaning that is not expressed in it," said Trefusis. "But never +mind. You mistrust me a little, I fancy, and would rather not +meddle with my petitions; but you will think better of that as +you grow used to me. Meanwhile, there is no hurry. Don't sign +yet." + +"Nonsense! I don't doubt your good faith," said Erskine, hastily +disavowing suspicions which he felt but could not account for. +"Here goes!" And he signed. + +"Well done!" said Trefusis. "This will make Brown happy for the +rest of the month." + +"It is time for us to go now," said Erskine gloomily. + +"Look in upon me at any time; you shall be welcome," said +Trefusis. "You need not stand upon any sort of ceremony." + +Then they parted; Sir Charles assuring Trefusis that he had never +spent a more interesting morning, and shaking hands with him at +considerable length three times. Erskine said little until he was +in the Riverside Road with his friend, when he suddenly burst +out: + +"What the devil do you mean by drinking two tumblers of such +staggering stuff at one o'clock in the day in the house of a +dangerous man like that? I am very sorry I went into the fellow's +place. I had misgivings about it, and they have been fully borne +out." + +"How so?" said Sir Charles, taken aback. + +"He has overreached us. I was a deuced fool to sign that paper, +and so were you. It was for that that he invited us." + +"Rubbish, my dear boy. It was not his paper, but Donovan +Brown's." + +"I doubt it. Most likely he talked Brown into signing it just as +he talked us. I tell you his ways are all crooked, like his +ideas. Did you hear how he lied about Miss Lindsay?" + +"Oh, you were mistaken about that. He does not care two straws +for her or for anyone." + +"Well, if you are satisfied, I am not. You would not be in such +high spirits over it if you had taken as little wine as I." + +"Pshaw! you're too ridiculous. It was capital wine. Do you mean +to say I am drunk?" + +"No. But you would not have signed if you had not taken that +second goblet. If you had not forced me--I could not get out of +it after you set the example--I would have seen him d--d sooner +than have had anything to do with his petition." + +"I don't see what harm can come of it," said Sir Charles, braving +out some secret disquietude. + +"I will never go into his house again," said Erskine moodily. "We +were just like two flies in a spider's web." + +Meanwhile, Trefusis was fulfilling his promise to write to +Donovan Brown. + +"Sallust's House. + +"Dear Brown: I have spent the forenoon angling for a couple of +very young fish, and have landed them with more trouble than they +are worth. One has gaudy scales: he is a baronet, and an amateur +artist, save the mark. All my arguments and my little museum of +photographs were lost on him; but when I mentioned your name, and +promised him an introduction to you, he gorged the bait greedily. +He was half drunk when he signed; and I should not have let him +touch the paper if I had not convinced myself beforehand that he +means well, and that my wine had only freed his natural +generosity from his conventional cowardice and prejudice. We must +get his name published in as many journals as possible as a +signatory to the great petition; it will draw on others as your +name drew him. The second novice, Chichester Erskine, is a young +poet. He will not be of much use to us, though he is a devoted +champion of liberty in blank verse, and dedicates his works to +Mazzini, etc. He signed reluctantly. All this hesitation is the +uncertainty that comes of ignorance;they have not found out the +truth for themselves, and are afraid to trust me, matters having +come to the pass at which no man dares trust his fellow. + +"I have met a pretty young lady here who might serve you as a +model for Hypatia. She is crammed with all the prejudices of the +peerage, but I am effecting a cure. I have set my heart on +marrying her to Erskine, who, thinking that I am making love to +her on my own account, is jealous. The weather is pleasant here, +and I am having a merry life of it, but I find myself too idle. +Etc., etc., etc." + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +One sunny forenoon, as Agatha sat reading on the doorstep of the +conservatory, the shadow of her parasol deepened, and she, +looking up for something denser than the silk of it, saw +Trefusis. + +"Oh!" + +She offered him no further greeting, having fallen in with his +habit of dispensing, as far as possible, with salutations and +ceremonies. He seemed in no hurry to speak, and so, after a +pause, she began, "Sir Charles--" + +"Is gone to town," he said. "Erskine is out on his bicycle. Lady +Brandon and Miss Lindsay have gone to the village in the +wagonette, and you have come out here to enjoy the summer sun and +read rubbish. I know all your news already." + +"You are very clever, and, as usual, wrong. Sir Charles has not +gone to town. He has only gone to the railway station for some +papers; he will be back for luncheon. How do you know so much of +our affairs?" + +"I was on the roof of my house with a field-glass. I saw you come +out and sit down here. Then Sir Charles passed. Then Erskine. +Then Lady Brandon, driving with great energy, and presenting a +remarkable contrast to the disdainful repose of Gertrude." + +"Gertrude! I like your cheek." + +"You mean that you dislike my presumption." + +"No, I think cheek a more expressive word than presumption; and I +mean that I like it--that it amuses me." + +"Really! What are you reading?" + +"Rubbish, you said just now. A novel." + +"That is, a lying story of two people who never existed, and who +would have acted very differently if they had existed." + +"Just so." + +"Could you not imagine something just as amusing for yourself?" + +"Perhaps so; but it would be too much trouble. Besides, cooking +takes away one's appetite for eating. I should not relish stories +of my own confection." + +"Which volume are you at?" + +"The third." + +"Then the hero and heroine are on the point of being united?" + +"I really don't know. This is one of your clever novels. I wish +the characters would not talk so much." + +"No matter. Two of them are in love with one another, are they +not?" + +"Yes. It would not be a novel without that." + +"Do you believe, in your secret soul, Agatha--I take the liberty +of using your Christian name because I wish to be very solemn--do +you really believe that any human being was ever unselfish enough +to love another in the story-book fashion?" + +"Of course. At least I suppose so. I have never thought much +about it." + +"I doubt it. My own belief is that no latter-day man has any +faith in the thoroughness or permanence of his affection for his +mate. Yet he does not doubt the sincerity of her professions, and +he conceals the hollowness of his own from her, partly because he +is ashamed of it, and partly out of pity for her. And she, on the +other side, is playing exactly the same comedy." + +"I believe that is what men do, but not women." + +"Indeed! Pray do you remember pretending to be very much in love +with me once when--" + +Agatha reddened and placed her palm on the step as if about to +spring up. But she checked herself and said: "Stop, Mr. Trefusis. +If you talk about that I shall go away. I wonder at you! Have you +no taste?', + +"None whatever. And as I was the aggrieved party on that--stay, +don't go. I will never allude to it again. I am growing afraid of +you. You used to be afraid of me." + +"Yes; and you used to bully me. You have a habit of bullying +women who are weak enough to fear you. You are a great deal +cleverer than I, and know much more, I dare say; but I am not in +the least afraid of you now." + +"You have no reason to be, and never had any. Henrietta, if she +were alive, could testify that it there is a defect in my +relations with women, it arises from my excessive amiability. I +could not refuse a woman anything she had set her heart +upon--except my hand in marriage. As long as your sex are content +to stop short of that they can do as they please with me." + +"How cruel! I thought you were nearly engaged to Gertrude." + +"The usual interpretation of a friendship between a man and a +woman! I have never thought of such a thing; and I am sure she +never has. We are not half so intimate as you and Sir Charles." + +"Oh, Sir Charles is married. And I advise you to get married if +you wish to avoid creating misunderstandings by your +friendships." + +Trefusis was struck. Instead of answering, he stood, after one +startled glance at her, looking intently at the knuckle of his +forefinger. + +"Do take pity on our poor sex," said Agatha maliciously. "You are +so rich, and so very clever, and really so nice looking that you +ought to share yourself with somebody. Gertrude would be only too +happy. + +Trefusis grinned and shook his head, slowly but emphatically. + +"I suppose _I_ should have no chance," continued Agatha +pathetically. + +"I should be delighted, of course," he replied with simulated +confusion, but with a lurking gleam in his eye that might have +checked her, had she noticed it. + +"Do marry me, Mr. Trefusis," she pleaded, clasping her hands in a +rapture of mischievous raillery. "Pray do." + +"Thank you," said Trefusis determinedly; "I will." + +"I am very sure you shan't," said Agatha, after an incredulous +pause, springing up and gathering her skirt as if to run away. +"You do not suppose I was in earnest, do you?" + +"Undoubtedly I do. _I_ am in earnest." + +Agatha hesitated, uncertain whether he might not be playing with +her as she had just been playing with him. "Take care," she said. +"I may change my mind and be in earnest, too; and then how will +you feel, Mr. Trefusis?" + +"I think, under our altered relations, you had better call me +Sidney." + +"I think we had better drop the joke. It was in rather bad taste, +and I should not have made it, perhaps." + +"It would be an execrable joke; therefore I have no intention of +regarding it as one. You shall be held to your offer, Agatha. Are +you in love with me?" + +"Not in the least. Not the very smallest bit in the world. I do +not know anybody with whom I am less in love or less likely to be +in love." + +"Then you must marry me. If you were in love with me, I should +run away. My sainted Henrietta adored me, and I proved unworthy +of adoration--though I was immensely flattered." + +"Yes; exactly! The way you treated your first wife ought to be +sufficient to warn any woman against becoming your second." + +"Any woman who loved me, you mean. But you do not love me, and if +I run away you will have the advantage of being rid of me. Our +settlements can be drawn so as to secure you half my fortune in +such an event." + +"You will never have a chance of running away from me." + +"I shall not want to. I am not so squeamish as I was. No; I do +not think I shall run away from you." + +"I do not think so either." + +"Well, when shall we be married?" + +"Never," said Agatha, and fled. But before she had gone a step he +caught her. + +"Don't," she said breathlessly. "Take your arm away. How dare +you?" + +He released her and shut the door of the conservatory. "Now," he +said, "if you want to run away you will have to run in the open." + +"You are very impertinent. Let me go in immediately." + +"Do you want me to beg you to marry me after you have offered to +do it freely?" + +"But I was only joking; I don't care for you," she said, looking +round for an outlet. + +"Agatha," he said, with grim patience, " half an hour ago I had +no more intention of marrying you than of making a voyage to the +moon. But when you made the suggestion I felt all its force in an +instant, and now nothing will satisfy me but your keeping your +word. Of all the women I know, you are the only one not quite a +fool." + +"I should be a great fool if--" + +"If you married me, you were going to say; but I don't think so. +I am the only man, not quite an ass, of your acquaintance. I know +my value, and yours. And I loved you long ago, when I had no +right to." + +Agatha frowned. "No," she said. "There is no use in saying +anything more about it. It is out of the question." + +"Come, don't be vindictive. I was more sincere then than you +were. But that has nothing to do with the present. You have spent +our renewed acquaintance on the defensive against me, retorting +upon me, teasing and tempting me. Be generous for once, and say +Yes with a good will." + +"Oh, I NEVER tempted you," cried Agatha. "I did not. It is not +true." He said nothing, but offered his hand. "No; go away; I +will not." He persisted, and she felt her power of resistance +suddenly wane. Terror-stricken, she said hastily, "There is not +the least use in bothering me; I will tell you nothing to-day." + +"Promise me on your honor that you will say Yes to-morrow, and I +will leave you in peace until then." + +"I will not." + +"The deuce take your sex," he said plaintively. + +"You know my mind now, and I have to stand here coquetting +because you don't know your own. If I cared for my comfort I +should remain a bachelor." + +"I advise you to do so," she said, stealing backward towards the +door. "You are a very interesting widower. A wife would spoil +you. Consider the troubles of domesticity, too." + +"I like troubles. They strengthen--Aha!" (she had snatched at the +knob of the door, and he swiftly put his hand on hers and stayed +her). "Not yet, if you please. Can you not speak out like a +woman--like a man, I mean? You may withhold a bone from Max until +he stands on his hind legs to beg for it, but you should not +treat me like a dog. Say Yes frankly, and do not keep me +begging." + +"What in the world do you want to marry me for?" + +"Because I was made to carry a house on my shoulders, and will do +so. I want to do the best I can for myself, and I shall never +have such a chance again. And I cannot help myself, and don't +know why; that is the plain truth of the matter. You will marry +someone some day." She shook her head. "Yes, you will. Why not +marry me?" + +Agatha bit her nether lip, looked ruefully at the ground, and, +after a long pause, said reluctantly, "Very well. But mind, I +think you are acting very foolishly, and if you are disappointed +afterwards, you must not blame ME." + +"I take the risk of my bargain," he said, releasing her hand, and +leaning against the door as he took out his pocket diary. "You +will have to take the risk of yours, which I hope may not prove +the worse of the two. This is the seventeenth of June. What date +before the twenty-fourth of July will suit you?" + +"You mean the twenty-fourth of July next year, I presume?" + +"No; I mean this year. I am going abroad on that date, married or +not, to attend a conference at Geneva, and I want you to come +with me. I will show you a lot of places and things that you have +never seen before. It is your right to name the day, but you have +no serious business to provide for, and I have." + +"But you don't know all the things I shall--I should have to +provide. You had better wait until you come back from the +continent." + +"There is nothing to be provided on your part but settlements and +your trousseau. The trousseau is all nonsense; and Jansenius +knows me of old in the matter of settlements. I got married in +six weeks before." + +"Yes," said Agatha sharply, "but I am not Henrietta." + +"No, thank Heaven," he assented placidly. + +Agatha was struck with remorse. "That was a vile thing for me to +say," she said; "and for you too." + +"Whatever is true is to the purpose, vile or not. Will you come +to Geneva on the twenty-fourth?" + +"But--I really was not thinking when I--I did not intend to say +that I would--I--" + +"I know. You will come if we are married." + +"Yes. IF we are married." + +"We shall be married. Do not write either to your mother or +Jansenius until I ask you." + +"I don't intend to. I have nothing to write about." + +"Wretch that you are! And do not be jealous if you catch me +making love to Lady Brandon. I always do so; she expects it." + +"You may make love to whom you please. It is no concern of mine." + +"Here comes the wagonette with Lady Brandon and Ger--and Miss +Lindsay. I mustn't call her Gertrude now except when you are not +by. Before they interrupt us, let me remind you of the three +points we are agreed upon. I love you. You do not love me. We are +to be married before the twenty-fourth of next month. Now I must +fly to help her ladyship to alight." + +He hastened to the house door, at which the wagonette had just +stopped. Agatha, bewildered, and ashamed to face her friends, +went in through the conservatory, and locked herself in her room. + +Trefusis went into the library with Gertrude whilst Lady Brandon +loitered in the hall to take off her gloves and ask questions of +the servants. When she followed, she found the two standing +together at the window. Gertrude was listening to him with the +patient expression she now often wore when he talked. He was +smiling, but it struck Jane that he was not quite at ease. "I was +just beginning to tell Miss Lindsay," he said, "of an +extraordinary thing that has happened during your absence." + +"I know," exclaimed Jane, with sudden conviction. "The heater in +the conservatory has cracked." + +"Possibly," said Trefusis; "but, if so, I have not heard of it." + +"If it hasn't cracked, it will," said Jane gloomily. Then, +assuming with some effort an interest in Trefusis's news, she +added: "Well, what has happened?" + +"I was chatting with Miss Wylie just now, when a singular idea +occurred to us. We discussed it for some time; and the upshot is +that we are to be married before the end of next month." + +Jane reddened and stared at him; and he looked keenly back at +her. Gertrude, though unobserved, did not suffer her expression +of patient happiness to change in the least; but a greenish-white +color suddenly appeared in her face, and only gave place very +slowly to her usual complexion. + +"Do you mean to say that you are going to marry AGATHA?" said +Lady Brandon incredulously, after a pause. + +"Yes. I had no intention of doing so when I last saw you or I +should have told you." + +"I never heard of such a thing in my life! You fell in love with +one another in five minutes, I suppose." + +"Good Heavens, no! we are not in love with one another. Can you +believe that I would marry for such a frivolous reason? No. The +subject turned up accidentally, and the advantage of a match +between us struck me forcibly. I was fortunate enough to convert +her to my opinion." + +"Yes; she wanted a lot of pressing, I dare say," said Jane, +glancing at Gertrude, who was smiling unmeaningly. + +"As you imply," said Trefusis coolly, "her reluctance may have +been affected, and she only too glad to get such a charming +husband. Assuming that to be the case, she dissembled remarkably +well." + +Gertrude took off her bonnet, and left the room without speaking. + +"This is my revenge upon you for marrying Brandon," he said then, +approaching Jane. + +"Oh, yes," she retorted ironically. "I believe all that, of +course." + +"You have the same security for its truth as for that of all the +foolish things I confess to you. There!" He pointed to a panel of +looking glass, in which Jane's figure was reflected at full +length. + +"I don't see anything to admire," said Jane, looking at herself +with no great favor. "There is plenty of me, if you admire that." + +"It is impossible to have too much of a good thing. But I must +not look any more. Though Agatha says she does not love me, I am +not sure that she would be pleased if I were to look for love +from anyone else." + +"Says she does not love you! Don't believe her; she has taken +trouble enough to catch you." + +"I am flattered. You caught me without any trouble, and yet you +would not have me." + +"It is manners to wait to be asked. I think you have treated +Gertrude shamefully--I hope you won't be offended with me for +saying so. I blame Agatha most. She is an awfully double-faced +girl." + +"How so?" said Trefusis, surprised. "What has Miss Lindsay to do +with it?" + +"You know very well." + +"I assure you I do not. If you were speaking of yourself I could +understand you." + +"Oh, you can get out of it cleverly, like all men; but you can't +hoodwink me. You shouldn't have pretended to like Gertrude when +you were really pulling a cord with Agatha. And she, too, +pretending to flirt with Sir Charles--as if he would care +twopence for her!" + +Trefusis seemed N little disturbed. "I hope Miss Lindsay had no +such--but she could not." + +"Oh, couldn't she? You will soon see whether she had or not." + +"You misunderstood us, Lady Brandon; Miss Lindsay knows better. +Remember, too, that this proposal of mine was quite +unpremeditated. This morning I had no tender thoughts of anyone +except one whom it would be improper to name." + +"Oh, that is all talk. It won't do now." + +"I will talk no more at present. I must be off to the village to +telegraph to my solicitor. If I meet Erskine I will tell him the +good news." + +"He will be delighted. He thought, as we all did, that you were +cutting him out with Gertrude." + +Trefusis smiled, shook his head, and, with a glance of admiring +homage to Jane's charms, went out. Jane was contemplating herself +in the glass when a servant begged her to come and speak to +Master Charles and Miss Fanny. She hurried upstairs to the +nursery, where her boy and girl, disputing each other's prior +right to torture the baby, had come to blows. They were somewhat +frightened, but not at all appeased, by Jane's entrance. She +scolded, coaxed, threatened, bribed, quoted Dr. Watts, appealed +to the nurse and then insulted her, demanded of the children +whether they loved one another, whether they loved mamma, and +whether they wanted a right good whipping. At last, exasperated +by her own inability to restore order, she seized the baby, which +had cried incessantly throughout, and, declaring that it was +doing it on purpose and should have something real to cry for, +gave it an exemplary smacking, and ordered the others to bed. The +boy, awed by the fate of his infant brother, offered, by way of +compromise, to be good if Miss Wylie would come and play with +him, a proposal which provoked from his jealous mother a box on +the ear that sent him howling to his cot. Then she left the room, +pausing on the threshold to remark that if she heard another +sound from them that day, they might expect the worst from her. +On descending, heated and angry, to the drawing-room, she found +Agatha there alone, looking out of window as if the landscape +were especially unsatisfactory this time. + +"Selfish little beasts!" exclaimed Jane, making a miniature +whirlwind with her skirts as she came in. "Charlie is a perfect +little fiend. He spends all his time thinking how he can annoy +me. Ugh! He's just like his father." + +"Thank you, my dear," said Sir Charles from the doorway. + +Jane laughed. "I knew you were there," she said. "Where's +Gertrude?" + +"She has gone out," said Sir Charles. + +"Nonsense! She has only just come in from driving with me." + +"I do not know what you mean by nonsense," said Sir Charles, +chafing. " I saw her walking along the Riverside Road. I was in +the village road, and she did not see me. She seemed in a hurry." + +"I met her on the stairs and spoke to her," said Agatha, "but she +didn't hear me." + +"I hope she is not going to throw herself into the river," said +Jane. Then, turning to her husband, she added: "Have you heard +the news?" + +"The only news I have heard is from this paper," said Sir +Charles, taking out a journal and flinging it on the table. +"There is a paragraph in it stating that I have joined some +infernal Socialistic league, and I am told that there is an +article in the 'Times' on the spread of Socialism, in which my +name is mentioned. This is all due to Trefusis; and I think he +has played me a most dishonorable trick. I will tell him so, too, +when next I see him." + +"You had better be careful what you say of him before Agatha," +said Jane. "Oh, you need not be alarmed, Agatha; I know all about +it. He told us in the library. We went out this morning--Gertrude +and I--and when we came back we found Mr. Trefusis and Agatha +talking very lovingly to one another on the conservatory steps, +newly engaged." + +"Indeed!" said Sir Charles, disconcerted and displeased, but +trying to smile. "I may then congratulate you, Miss Wylie?" + +"You need not," said Agatha, keeping her countenance as well as +she could. "It was only a joke. At least it came about in a jest. +He has no right to say that we are engaged." + +"Stuff and nonsense," said Jane. "That won't do, Agatha. He has +gone off to telegraph to his solicitor. He is quite in earnest." + +"I am a great fool," said Agatha, sitting down and twisting her +hands perplexedly. "I believe I said something; but I really did +not intend to. He surprised me into speaking before I knew what I +was saying. A pretty mess I have got myself into!" + +"I am glad you have been outwitted at last," said Jane, laughing +spitefully. "You never had any pity for me when I could not think +of the proper thing to say at a moment's notice." + +Agatha let the taunt pass unheeded. Her gaze wandered anxiously, +and at last settled appealingly upon Sir Charles. "What shall I +do?" she said to him. + +"Well, Miss Wylie," he said gravely, "if you did not mean to +marry him you should not have promised. I don't wish to be +unsympathetic, and I know that it is very hard to get rid of +Trefusis when he makes up his mind to act something out of you, +but still--" + +"Never mind her," said Jane, interrupting him. "She wants to +marry him just as badly as he wants to marry her. You would be +preciously disappointed if he cried off, Agatha; for all your +interesting reluctance." + +"That is not so, really," said Agatha earnestly. "I wish I had +taken time to think about it. I suppose he has told everybody by +this time." + +"May we then regard it as settled?" said Sir Charles. + +"Of course you may," said Jane contemptuously. + +"Pray allow Miss Wylie to speak for herself, Jane. I confess I do +not understand why you are still in doubt--if you have really +engaged yourself to him." + +"I suppose I am in for it," said Agatha. "I feel as if there were +some fatal objection, if I could only remember what it is. I wish +I had never seen him." + +Sir Charles was puzzled. "I do not understand ladies' ways in +these matters," he said. "However, as there seems to be no doubt +that you and Trefusis are engaged, I shall of course say nothing +that would make it unpleasant for him to visit here; but I must +say that he has--to say the least--been inconsiderate to me +personally. I signed a paper at his house on the implicit +understanding that it was strictly private, and now he has +trumpeted it forth to the whole world, and publicly associated my +name not only with his own, but with those of persons of whom I +know nothing except that I would rather not be connected with +them in any way." + +"What does it matter?" said Jane. "Nobody cares twopence." + +"_I_ care," said Sir Charles angrily. "No sensible person can +accuse me of exaggerating my own importance because I value my +reputation sufficiently to object to my approval being publicly +cited in support of a cause with which I have no sympathy." + +"Perhaps Mr. Trefusis has had nothing to do with it," said +Agatha. "The papers publish whatever they please, don't they?" + +"That's right, Agatha," said Jane maliciously. "Don't let anyone +speak ill of him." + +"I am not speaking ill of him," said Sir Charles, before Agatha +could retort. "It is a mere matter of feeling, and I should not +have mentioned it had I known the altered relations between him +and Miss Wylie." + +"Pray don't speak of them," said Agatha. "I have a mind to run +away by the next train." + +Sir Charles, to change the subject, suggested a duet. + +Meanwhile Erskine, returning through the village from his morning +ride, had met Trefusis, and attempted to pass him with a nod. But +Trefusis called to him to stop, and he dismounted reluctantly. + +"Just a word to say that I am going to be married," said +Trefusis. + +"To--?" Erskine could not add Gertrude's name. + +"To one of our friends at the Beeches. Guess to which." + +"To Miss Lindsay, I presume." + +"What in the fiend's name has put it into all your heads that +Miss Lindsay and I are particularly attached to one another?" +exclaimed Trefusis. "YOU have always appeared to me to be the man +for Miss Lindsay. I am going to marry Miss Wylie." + +"Really!" exclaimed Erskine, with a sensation of suddenly thawing +after a bitter frost. + +"Of course. And now, Erskine, you have the advantage of being a +poor man. Do not let that splendid girl marry for money. If you +go further you are likely to fare worse; and so is she." Then he +nodded and walked away, leaving the other staring after him. + +"If he has jilted her, he is a scoundrel," said Erskine. "I am +sorry I didn't tell him so." + +He mounted and rode slowly along the Riverside Road, partly +suspecting Trefusis of some mystification, but inclining to +believe in him, and, in any case, to take his advice as to +Gertrude. The conversation he had overheard in the avenue still +perplexed him. He could not reconcile it with Trefusis's +profession of disinterestedness towards her. + +His bicycle carried him noiselessly on its india-rubber tires to +the place by which the hemlock grew and there he saw Gertrude +sitting on the low earthen wall that separated the field from the +road. Her straw bag, with her scissors in it, lay beside her. Her +fingers were interlaced, and her hands rested, palms downwards, +on her knee. Her expression was rather vacant, and so little +suggestive of any serious emotion that Erskine laughed as he +alighted close to her. + +"Are you tired?" he said. + +"No," she replied, not startled, and smiling mechanically--an +unusual condescension on her part. + +"Indulging in a day-dream?" + +"No." She moved a little to one side and concealed the basket +with her dress. + +He began to fear that something was wrong. "Is it possible that +you have ventured among those poisonous plants again?" he said. +"Are you ill?" + +"Not at all," she replied, rousing herself a little. "Your +solicitude is quite thrown away. I am perfectly well." + +"I beg your pardon," he said, snubbed. "I thought--Don't you +think it dangerous to sit on that damp wall?" + +"It is not damp. It is crumbling into dust with dryness." An +unnatural laugh, with which she concluded, intensified his +uneasiness. + +He began a sentence, stopped, and to gain time to recover +himself, placed his bicycle in the opposite ditch; a proceeding +which she witnessed with impatience, as it indicated his +intention to stay and talk. She, however, was the first to speak; +and she did so with a callousness that shocked him. + +"Have you heard the news?" + +"What news?" + +"About Mr. Trefusis and Agatha. They are engaged." + +"So Trefusis told me. I met him just now in the village. I was +very glad to hear it." + +"Of course." + +"But I had a special reason for being glad." + +"Indeed?" + +"I was desperately afraid, before he told me the truth, that he +had other views--views that might have proved fatal to my dearest +hopes." + +Gertrude frowned at him, and the frown roused him to brave her. +He lost his self-command, already shaken by her strange behavior. +"You know that I love you, Miss Lindsay," he said. "It may not be +a perfect love, but, humanly speaking, it is a true one. I almost +told you so that day when we were in the billiard room together; +and I did a very dishonorable thing the same evening. When you +were speaking to Trefusis in the avenue I was close to you, and I +listened." + +"Then you heard him," cried Gertrude vehemently. "You heard him +swear that he was in earnest." + +"Yes," said Erskine, trembling, "and I thought he meant in +earnest in loving you. You can hardly blame me for that: I was in +love myself; and love is blind and jealous. I never hoped again +until he told me that he was to be married to Miss Wylie. May I +speak to you, now that I know I was mistaken, or that you have +changed your mind?" + +"Or that he has changed his mind," said Gertrude scornfully. + +Erskine, with a new anxiety for her sake, checked himself. Her +dignity was dear to him, and he saw that her disappointment had +made her reckless of it. "Do not say anything to me now, Miss +Lindsay, lest--" + +"What have I said? What have I to say?" + +"Nothing, except on my own affairs. I love you dearly." + +She made an impatient movement, as if that were a very +insignificant matter. + +"You believe me, I hope," he said, timidly. + +Gertrude made an effort to recover her habitual ladylike reserve, +but her energy failed before she had done more than raise her +head. She relapsed into her listless attitude, and made a faint +gesture of intolerance. + +"You cannot be quite indifferent to being loved," he said, +becoming more nervous and more urgent. "Your existence +constitutes all my happiness. I offer you my services and +devotion. I do not ask any reward." (He was now speaking very +quickly and almost inaudibly.) "You may accept my love without +returning it. I do not want--seek to make a bargain. If you need +a friend you may be able to rely on me more confidently because +you know I love you." + +"Oh, you think so," said Gertrude, interrupting him; "but you +will get over it. I am not the sort of person that men fall in +love with. You will soon change your mind." + +"Not the sort! Oh, how little you know!" he said, becoming +eloquent. "I have had plenty of time to change, but I am as fixed +as ever. If you doubt, wait and try me. But do not be rough with +me. You pain me more than you can imagine when you are hasty or +indifferent. I am in earnest." + +"Ha, ha! That is easily said." + +"Not by me. I change in my judgment of other people according to +my humor, but I believe steadfastly in your goodness and +beauty--as if you were an angel. I am in earnest in my love for +you as I am in earnest for my own life, which can only be +perfected by your aid and influence." + +"You are greatly mistaken if you suppose that I am an angel." + +"You are wrong to mistrust yourself; but it is what I owe to you +and not what I expect from you that I try to express by speaking +of you as an angel. I know that you are not an angel to yourself. +But you are to me." + +She sat stubbornly silent. + +"I will not press you for an answer now. I am content that you +know my mind at last. Shall we return together?" + +She looked round slowly at the hemlock, and from that to the +river. Then she took up her basket, rose, and prepared to go, as +if under compulsion. + +"Do you want any more hemlock?" he said. "If so, I will pluck +some for you." + +"I wish you would let me alone," she said, with sudden anger. She +added, a little ashamed of herself, "I have a headache." + +"I am very sorry," he said, crestfallen. + +"It is only that I do not wish to be spoken to. It hurts my head +to listen." + +He meekly took his bicycle from the ditch and wheeled it along +beside her to the Beeches without another word. They went in +through the conservatory, and parted in the dining-room. Before +leaving him she said with some remorse, "I did not mean to be +rude, Mr. Erskine." + +He flushed, murmured something, and attempted to kiss her hand. +But she snatched it away and went out quickly. He was stung by +this repulse, and stood mortifying himself by thinking of it +until he was disturbed by the entrance of a maid-servant. +Learning from her that Sir Charles was in the billiard room, he +joined him there, and asked him carelessly if he had heard the +news. + +"About Miss Wylie?" said Sir Charles. "Yes, I should think so. I +believe the whole country knows it, though they have not been +engaged three hours. Have you seen these?" And he pushed a couple +of newspapers across the table. + +Erskine had to make several efforts before he could read. " You +were a fool to sign that document," he said. "I told you so at +the time." + +"I relied on the fellow being a gentleman," said Sir Charles +warmly. " I do not see that I was a fool. I see that he is a cad, +and but for this business of Miss Wylie's I would let him know my +opinion. Let me tell you, Chester, that he has played fast and +loose with Miss Lindsay. There is a deuce of a row upstairs. She +has just told Jane that she must go home at once; Miss Wylie +declares that she will have nothing to do with Trefusis if Miss +Lindsay has a prior claim to him, and Jane is annoyed at his +admiring anybody except herself. It serves me right; my instinct +warned me against the fellow from the first." Just then luncheon +was announced. Gertrude did not come down. Agatha was silent and +moody. Jane tried to make Erskine describe his walk with +Gertrude, but he baffled her curiosity by omitting from his +account everything except its commonplaces. + +"I think her conduct very strange," said Jane. "She insists on +going to town by the four o'clock train. I consider that it's not +polite to me, although she always made a point of her perfect +manners. I never heard of such a thing!" + +When they had risen from the table, they went together to the +drawing-room. They had hardly arrived there when Trefusis was +announced, and he was in their presence before they had time to +conceal the expression of consternation his name brought into +their faces. + +"I have come to say good-bye," he said. "I find that I must go to +town by the four o'clock train to push my arrangements in person; +the telegrams I have received breathe nothing but delay. Have you +seen the 'Times'?" + +"I have indeed," said Sir Charles, emphatically. + +"You are in some other paper too, and will be in half-a-dozen +more in the course of the next fortnight. Men who have committed +themselves to an opinion are always in trouble with the +newspapers; some because they cannot get into them, others +because they cannot keep out. If you had put forward a thundering +revolutionary manifesto, not a daily paper would have dared +allude to it: there is no cowardice like Fleet Street cowardice! +I must run off; I have much to do before I start, and it is +getting on for three. Good-bye, Lady Brandon, and everybody." + +He shook Jane's hand, dealt nods to the rest rapidly, making no +distinction in favor of Agatha, and hurried away. They stared +after him for a moment and then Erskine ran out and went +downstairs two steps at a time. Nevertheless he had to run as far +as the avenue before he overtook his man. + +"Trefusis," he said breathlessly, "you must not go by the four +o'clock train." + +"Why not?" + +"Miss Lindsay is going to town by it." + +"So much the better, my dear boy; so much the better. You are not +jealous of me now, are you?" + +"Look here, Trefusis. I don't know and I don't ask what there has +been between you and Miss Lindsay, but your engagement has quite +upset her, and she is running away to London in consequence. If +she hears that you are going by the same train she will wait +until to-morrow, and I believe the delay would be very +disagreeable. Will you inflict that additional pain upon her?" + +Trefusis, evidently concerned, looking doubtfully at Erskine, and +pondered for a moment. "I think you are on a wrong scent about +this," he said. "My relations with Miss Lindsay were not of a +sentimental kind. Have you said anything to her--on your own +account, I mean?" + +"I have spoken to her on both accounts, and I know from her own +lips that I am right." + +Trefusis uttered a low whistle. + +"It is not the first time I have had the evidence of my senses in +the matter," said Erskine significantly. " Pray think of it +seriously, Trefusis. Forgive my telling you frankly that nothing +but your own utter want of feeling could excuse you for the way +in which you have acted towards her." + +Trefusis smiled. "Forgive me in turn for my inquisitiveness," he +said. "What does she say to your suit?" + +Erskine hesitated, showing by his manner that he thought Trefusis +had no right to ask the question. "She says nothing," he +answered. + +"Hm!" said Trefusis. "Well, you may rely on me as to the train. +There is my hand upon it." + +"Thank you," said Erskine fervently. They shook hands and parted, +Trefusis walking away with a grin suggestive of anything but good +faith. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +Gertrude, unaware of the extent to which she had already betrayed +her disappointment, believed that anxiety for her father's +health, which she alleged as the motive of her sudden departure, +was an excuse plausible enough to blind her friends to her +overpowering reluctance to speak to Agatha or endure her +presence; to her fierce shrinking from the sort of pity usually +accorded to a jilted woman; and, above all, to her dread of +meeting Trefusis. She had for some time past thought of him as an +upright and perfect man deeply interested in her. Yet, +comparatively liberal as her education had been, she had no idea +of any interest of man in woman existing apart from a desire to +marry. He had, in his serious moments, striven to make her +sensible of the baseness he saw in her worldliness, flattering +her by his apparent conviction--which she shared--that she was +capable of a higher life. Almost in the same breath, a strain of +gallantry which was incorrigible in him, and to which his humor +and his tenderness to women whom he liked gave variety and charm, +would supervene upon his seriousness with a rapidity which her +far less flexible temperament could not follow. Hence she, +thinking him still in earnest when he had swerved into florid +romance, had been dangerously misled. He had no conscientious +scruples in his love-making, because he was unaccustomed to +consider himself as likely to inspire love in women; and Gertrude +did not know that her beauty gave to an hour spent alone with her +a transient charm which few men of imagination and address could +resist. She, who had lived in the marriage market since she had +left school, looked upon love-making as the most serious business +of life. To him it was only a pleasant sort of trifling, enhanced +by a dash of sadness in the reflection that it meant so little. + +Of the ceremonies attending her departure, the one that cost her +most was the kiss she felt bound to offer Agatha. She had been +jealous of her at college, where she had esteemed herself the +better bred of the two; but that opinion had hardly consoled her +for Agatha's superior quickness of wit, dexterity of hand, +audacity, aptness of resource, capacity for forming or following +intricate associations of ideas, and consequent power to dazzle +others. Her jealousy of these qualities was now barbed by the +knowledge that they were much nearer akin than her own to those +of Trefusis. It mattered little to her how she appeared to +herself in comparison with Agatha. But it mattered the whole +world (she thought) that she must appear to Trefusis so slow, +stiff, cold, and studied, and that she had no means to make him +understand that she was not really so. For she would not admit +the justice of impressions made by what she did not intend to do, +however habitually she did it. She had a theory that she was not +herself, but what she would have liked to be. As to the one +quality in which she had always felt superior to Agatha, and +which she called " good breeding," Trefusis had so far destroyed +her conceit in that, that she was beginning to doubt whether it +was not her cardinal defect. + +She could not bring herself to utter a word as she embraced her +schoolfellow; and Agatha was tongue-tied too. But there was much +remorseful tenderness in the feelings that choked them. Their +silence would have been awkward but for the loquacity of Jane, +who talked enough for all three. Sir Charles was without, in the +trap, waiting to drive Gertrude to the station. Erskine +intercepted her in the hall as she passed out, told her that he +should be desolate when she was gone, and begged her to remember +him, a simple petition which moved her a little, and caused her +to note that his dark eyes had a pleading eloquence which she had +observed before in the kangaroos at the Zoological Society's +gardens. + +On the way to the train Sir Charles worried the horse in order to +be excused from conversation on the sore subject of his guest's +sudden departure. He had made a few remarks on the skittishness +of young ponies, and on the weather, and that was all until they +reached the station, a pretty building standing in the open +country, with a view of the river from the platform. There were +two flies waiting, two porters, a bookstall, and a refreshment +room with a neglected beauty pining behind the bar. Sir Charles +waited in the booking office to purchase a ticket for Gertrude, +who went through to the platform. The first person she saw there +was Trefusis, close beside her. + +"I am going to town by this train, Gertrude," he said quickly. +"Let me take charge of you. I have something to say, for I hear +that some mischief has been made between us which must be stopped +at once. You--" + +Just then Sir Charles came out, and stood amazed to see them in +conversation. + +"It happens that I am going by this train," said Trefusis. "I +will see after Miss Lindsay." + +"Miss Lindsay has her maid with her," said Sir Charles, almost +stammering, and looking at Gertrude, whose expression was +inscrutable. + +"We can get into the Pullman car," said Trefusis. "There we shall +be as private as in a corner of a crowded drawing-room. I may +travel with you, may I not?" he said, seeing Sir Charles's +disturbed look, and turning to her for express permission. + +She felt that to deny him would be to throw away her last chance +of happiness. Nevertheless she resolved to do it, though she +should die of grief on the way to London. As she raised her head +to forbid him the more emphatically, she met his gaze, which was +grave and expectant. For an instant she lost her presence of +mind, and in that instant said, " Yes. I shall be very glad." + +"Well, if that is the case," said Sir Charles, in the tone of one +whose sympathy had been alienated by an unpardonable outrage, " +there can be no use in my waiting. I leave you in the hands of +Mr. Trefusis. Good-bye, Miss Lindsay." + +Gertrude winced. Unkindness from a man usually kind proved hard +to bear at parting. She was offering him her hand in silence when +Trefusis said: + +"Wait and see us off. If we chance to be killed on the +journey--which is always probable on an English railway--you will +reproach yourself afterwards if you do not see the last of us. +Here is the train; it will not delay you a minute. Tell Erskine +that you saw me here; that I have not forgotten my promise, and +that he may rely on me. Get in at this end, Miss Lindsay." + +"My maid," said Gertrude hesitating; for she had not intended to +travel so expensively. "She--" + +"She comes with us to take care of me; I have tickets for +everybody," said Trefusis, handing the woman in. + +"But--" + +"Take your seats, please," said the guard. "Going by the train, +sir?" + +"Good-bye, Sir Charles. Give my love to Lady Brandon, and Agatha, +and the dear children; and thanks so much for a very pleasant--" +Here the train moved off, and Sir Charles, melting, smiled and +waved his hat until he caught sight of Trefusis looking back at +him with a grin which seemed, under the circumstances, so +Satanic, that he stopped as if petrified in the midst of his +gesticulations, and stood with his arm out like a semaphore. + +The drive home restored him somewhat, but he wee still full of +his surprise when he rejoined Agatha, his wife, and Erskine in +the drawing-room at the Beeches. The moment he entered, he said +without preface, "She has gone off with Trefusis." + +Erskine, who had been reading, started up, clutching his book as +if about to hurl it at someone, and cried, "Was he at the train?" + +"Yes, and has gone to town by it." + +"Then," said Erskine, flinging the book violently on the floor, +"he is a scoundrel and a liar." + +"What is the matter?" said Agatha rising, whilst Jane stared +open-mouthed at him. + +"I beg your pardon, Miss Wylie, I forgot you. He pledged me his +honor that he would not go by that train. I will." He hurried +from the room. Sir Charles rushed after him, and overtook him at +the foot of the stairs. + +"Where are you going? What do you want to do?" + +"I will follow the train and catch it at the next station. I can +do it on my bicycle." + +"Nonsense! you're mad. They have thirty-five minutes start; and +the train travels forty-five miles an hour." + +Erskine sat down on the stairs and gazed blankly at the opposite +wall. + +"You must have mistaken him," said Sir Charles. "He told me to +tell you that he had not forgotten his promise, and that you may +rely on him." + +"What is the matter?" said Agatha, coming down, followed by Lady +Brandon. + +"Miss Wylie," said Erskine, springing up, "he gave me his word +that he would not go by that train when I told him Miss Lindsay +was going by it. He has broken his word and seized the +opportunity I was mad and credulous enough to tell him of. If I +had been in your place, Brandon, I would have strangled him or +thrown him under the wheels sooner than let him go. He has shown +himself in this as in everything else, a cheat, a conspirator, a +man of crooked ways, shifts, tricks, lying sophistries, heartless +selfishness, cruel cynicism--" He stopped to catch his breath, +and Sir Charles interposed a remonstrance. + +"You are exciting yourself about nothing, Chester. They are in a +Pullman, with her maid and plenty of people; and she expressly +gave him leave to go with her. He asked her the question flatly +before my face, and I must say I thought it a strange thing for +her to consent to. However, she did consent, and of course I was +not in a position to prevent him from going to London if he +pleased. Don't let us have a scene, old man. It can't be helped." + +"I am very sorry," said Erskine, hanging his head. "I did not +mean to make a scene. I beg your pardon." + +He went away to his room without another word. Sir Charles +followed and attempted to console him, but Erskine caught his +hand, and asked to be left to himself. So Sir Charles returned to +the drawing-room, where his wife, at a loss for once, hardly +ventured to remark that she had never heard of such a thing in +her life. + +Agatha kept silence. She had long ago come unconsciously to the +conclusion that Trefusis and she were the only members of the +party at the Beeches who had much common-sense, and this made her +slow to believe that he could be in the wrong and Erskine in the +right in any misunderstanding between them. She had a slovenly +way of summing up as "asses" people whose habits of thought +differed from hers. Of all varieties of man, the minor poet +realized her conception of the human ass most completely, and +Erskine, though a very nice fellow indeed, thoroughly good and +gentlemanly, in her opinion, was yet a minor poet, and therefore +a pronounced ass. Trefusis, on the contrary, was the last man of +her acquaintance whom she would have thought of as a very nice +fellow or a virtuous gentleman; but he was not an a~s, although +he was obstinate in his Socialistic fads. She had indeed +suspected him of weakness almost asinine with respect to +Gertrude, but then all men were asses in their dealings with +women, and since he had transferred his weakness to her own +account it no longer seemed to need justification. And now, as +her concern for Erskine, whom she pitied, wore off, she began to +resent Trefusis's journey with Gertrude as an attack on her +recently acquired monopoly of him. There was an air of +aristocratic pride about Gertrude which Agatha had formerly +envied, and which she still feared Trefusis might mistake for an +index of dignity and refinement. Agatha did not believe that her +resentment was the common feeling called jealousy, for she still +deemed herself unique, but it gave her a sense of meanness that +did not improve her spirits. + +The dinner was dull. Lady Brandon spoke in an undertone, as if +someone lay dead in the next room. Erskine was depressed by the +consciousness of having lost his head and acted foolishly in the +afternoon. Sir Charles did not pretend to ignore the suspense +they were all in pending intelligence of the journey to London; +he ate and drank and said nothing. Agatha, disgusted with herself +and with Gertrude, and undecided whether to be disgusted with +Trefusis or to trust him affectionately, followed the example of +her host. After dinner she accompanied him in a series of songs +by Schubert. This proved an aggravation instead of a relief. Sir +Charles, excelling in the expression of melancholy, preferred +songs of that character; and as his musical ideas, like those of +most Englishmen, were founded on what he had heard in church in +his childhood, his style was oppressively monotonous. Agatha took +the first excuse that presented itself to leave the piano. Sir +Charles felt that his performance had been a failure, and +remarked, after a cough or two, that he had caught a touch of +cold returning from the station. Erskine sat on a sofa with his +head drooping, and his palms joined and hanging downward between +his knees. Agatha stood at the window, looking at the late summer +afterglow. Jane yawned, and presently broke the silence. + +"You look exactly as you used at school, Agatha. I could almost +fancy us back again in Number Six." + +Agatha shook her head. + +"Do I ever look like that--like myself, as I used to be?" + +"Never," said Agatha emphatically, turning and surveying the +figure of which Miss Carpenter had been the unripe antecedent. + +"But why?" said Jane querulously. "I don't see why I shouldn't. I +am not so changed." + +"You have become an exceedingly fine woman, Jane," said Agatha +gravely, and then, without knowing why, turned her attentive gaze +upon Sir Charles, who bore it uneasily, and left the room. A +minute later he returned with two buff envelopes in his hand. + +"A telegram for you, Miss Wylie, and one for Chester." Erskine +started up, white with vague fears. Agatha's color went, and came +again with increased richness as she read: + +"I have arrived safe and ridiculously happy. Read a thousand +things between the lines. I will write tomorrow. Good night." + +"You may read it," said Agatha, handing it to Jane. + +"Very pretty," said Jane. "A shilling's worth of +attention--exactly twenty words! He may well call himself an +economist." + +Suddenly a crowing laugh from Erskine caused them to turn and +stare at him. "What nonsense!" he said, blushing. "What a fellow +he is! I don't attach the slightest importance to this." + +Agatha took a corner of his telegram and pulled it gently. + +"No, no," he said, holding it tightly. "It is too absurd. I don't +think I ought--" + +Agatha gave a decisive pull, and read the message aloud. It was +from Trefusis, thus: + +"I forgive your thoughts since Brandon's return. Write her +to-night, and follow your letter to receive an affirmative answer +in person. I promised that you might rely on me. She loves you." + +"I never heard of such a thing in my life," said Jane. "Never!" + +"He is certainly a most unaccountable man," said Sir Charles. + +"I am glad, for my own sake, that he is not so black as he is +painted," said Agatha. "You may believe every word of it, Mr. +Erskine. Be sure to do as he tells you. He is quite certain to be +right." + +"Pooh!" said Erskine, crumpling the telegram and thrusting it +into his pocket as if it were not worth a second thought. +Presently he slipped away, and did not reappear. When they were +about to retire, Sir Charles asked a servant where he was. + +"In the library, Sir Charles; writing." + +They looked significantly at one another and went to bed without +disturbing him. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +When Gertrude found herself beside Trefusis in the Pullman, she +wondered how she came to be travelling with him against her +resolution, if not against her will. In the presence of two women +scrutinizing her as if they suspected her of being there with no +good purpose, a male passenger admiring her a little further off, +her maid reading Trefusis's newspapers just out of earshot, an +uninterested country gentleman looking glumly out of window, a +city man preoccupied with the "Economist," and a polite lady who +refrained from staring but not from observing, she felt that she +must not make a scene; yet she knew he had not come there to hold +an ordinary conversation. Her doubt did not last long. He began +promptly, and went to the point at once. + +"What do you think of this engagement of mine?" + +This was more than she could bear calmly. "What is it to me?" she +said indignantly. "I have nothing to do with it." + +"Nothing! You are a cold friend to me then. I thought you one of +the surest I possessed." + +She moved as if about to look at him, but checked herself, closed +her lips, and fixed her eyes on the vacant seat before her. The +reproach he deserved was beyond her power of expression. + +"I cling to that conviction still, in spite of Miss Lindsay's +indifference to my affairs. But I confess I hardly know how to +bring you into sympathy with me in this matter. In the first +place, you have never been married, I have. In the next, you are +much younger than I, in more respects than that of years. Very +likely half your ideas on the subject are derived from fictions +in which happy results are tacked on to conditions very +ill-calculated to produce them--which in real life hardly ever do +produce them. If our friendship were a chapter in a novel, what +would be the upshot of it? Why, I should marry you, or you break +your heart at my treachery." + +Gertrude moved her eyes as if she had some intention of taking to +flight. + +"But our relations being those of real life--far sweeter, after +all--I never dreamed of marrying you, having gained and enjoyed +your friendship without that eye to business which our nineteenth +century keeps open even whilst it sleeps. You, being equally +disinterested in your regard for me, do not think of breaking +your heart, but you are, I suppose, a little hurt at my +apparently meditating and resolving on such a serious step as +marriage with Agatha without confiding my intention to you. And +you punish me by telling me that you have nothing to do with it-- +that it is nothing to you. But I never meditated the step, and so +had nothing to conceal from you. It was conceived and executed in +less than a minute. Although my first marriage was a silly love +match and a failure, I have always admitted to myself that I +should marry again. A bachelor is a man who shirks +responsibilities and duties; I seek them, and consider it my +duty, with my monstrous superfluity of means, not to let the +individualists outbreed me. Still, I was in no hurry, having +other things to occupy me, and being fond of my bachelor freedom, +and doubtful sometimes whether I had any right to bring more +idlers into the world for the workers to feed. Then came the +usual difficulty about the lady. I did not want a helpmeet; I can +help myself. Nor did I expect to be loved devotedly, for the race +has not yet evolved a man lovable on thorough acquaintance; even +my self-love is neither thorough nor constant. I wanted a genial +partner for domestic business, and Agatha struck me quite +suddenly as being the nearest approach to what I desired that I +was likely to find in the marriage market, where it is extremely +hard to suit oneself, and where the likeliest bargains are apt to +be snapped up by others if one hesitates too long in the hope of +finding something better. I admire Agatha's courage and +capability, and believe I shall be able to make her like me, and +that the attachment so begun may turn into as close a union as is +either healthy or necessary between two separate individuals. I +may mistake her character, for I do not know her as I know you, +and have scarcely enough faith in her as yet to tell her such +things as I have told you. Still, there is a consoling dash of +romance in the transaction. Agatha has charm. Do you not think +so?" + +Gertrude's emotion was gone. She replied with cool scorn, "Very +romantic indeed. She is very fortunate." + +Trefusis half laughed, half sighed with relief to find her so +self-possessed. "It sounds like--and indeed is--the selfish +calculation of a disilluded widower. You would not value such an +offer, or envy the recipient of it?" + +"No," said Gertrude with quiet contempt. + +"Yet there is some calculation behind every such offer. We marry +to satisfy our needs, and the more reasonable our needs are, the +more likely are we to get them satisfied. I see you are disgusted +with me; I feared as much. You are the sort of woman to admit no +excuse for my marriage except love--pure emotional love, +blindfolding reason." + +"I really do not concern myself--" + +"Do not say so, Gertrude. I watch every step you take with +anxiety; and I do not believe you are indifferent to the +worthiness of my conduct. Believe me, love is an overrated +passion; it would be irremediably discredited but that young +people, and the romancers who live upon their follies, have a +perpetual interest in rehabilitating it. No relation involving +divided duties and continual intercourse between two people can +subsist permanently on love alone. Yet love is not to be despised +when it comes from a fine nature. There is a man who loves you +exactly as you think I ought to love Agatha--and as I don't love +her." + +Gertrude's emotion stirred again, and her color rose. "You have +no right to say these things now," she said. + +"Why may I not plead the cause of another? I speak of Erskine." +Her color vanished, and he continued, "I want you to marry him. +When you are married you will understand me better, and our +friendship, shaken just now, will be deepened; for I dare assure +you, now that you can no longer misunderstand me, that no living +woman is dearer to me than you. So much for the inevitable +selfish reason. Erskine is a poor man, and in his comfortable +poverty--save the mark--lies your salvation from the baseness of +marrying for wealth and position; a baseness of which women of +your class stand in constant peril. They court it; you must shun +it. The man is honorable and loves you; he is young, healthy, and +suitable. What more do you think the world has to offer you?" + +"Much more, I hope. Very much more." + +"I fear that the names I give things are not romantic enough. He +is a poet. Perhaps he would be a hero if it were possible for a +man to be a hero in this nineteenth century, which will be +infamous in history as a time when the greatest advances in the +power of man over nature only served to sharpen his greed and +make famine its avowed minister. Erskine is at least neither a +gambler nor a slave-driver at first hand; if he lives upon +plundered labor he can no more help himself than I. Do not say +that you hope for much more; but tell me, if you can, what more +you have any chance of getting? Mind, I do not ask what more you +desire; we all desire unutterable things. I ask you what more you +can obtain!" + +"I have not found Mr. Erskine such a wonderful person as you seem +to think him." + +"He is only a man. Do you know anybody more wonderful?" + +"Besides, my family might not approve." + +"They most certainly will not. If you wish to please them, you +must sell yourself to some rich vampire of the factories or great +landlord. If you give yourself away to a poor poet who loves you, +their disgust will be unbounded. If a woman wishes to honor her +father and mother to their own satisfaction nowadays she must +dishonor herself." + +"I do not understand why you should be so anxious for me to marry +someone else?" + +"Someone else?" said Trefusis, puzzled. + +"I do not mean someone else," said Gertrude hastily, reddening. +"Why should I marry at all?" + +"Why do any of us marry? Why do I marry? It is a function craving +fulfilment. If you do not marry betimes from choice, you will be +driven to do so later on by the importunity of your suitors and +of your family, and by weariness of the suspense that precedes a +definite settlement of oneself. Marry generously. Do not throw +yourself away or sell yourself; give yourself away. Erskine has +as much at stake as you; and yet he offers himself fearlessly." + +Gertrude raised her head proudly. + +"It is true," continued Trefusis, observing the gesture with some +anger, " that he thinks more highly of you than you deserve; but +you, on the other hand, think too lowly of him. When you marry +him you must save him from a cruel disenchantment by raising +yourself to the level he fancies you have attained. This will +cost you an effort, and the effort will do you good, whether it +fail or succeed. As for him, he will find his just level in your +estimation if your thoughts reach high enough to comprehend him +at that level." + +Gertrude moved impatiently. + +"What!" he said quickly. "Are my long-winded sacrifices to the +god of reason distasteful? I believe I am involuntarily making +them so because I am jealous of the fellow after all. +Nevertheless I am serious; I want you to get married; though I +shall always have a secret grudge against the man who marries +you. Agatha will suspect me of treason if you don't. Erskine will +be a disappointed man if you don't. You will be moody, wretched, +and--and unmarried if you don't." + +Gertrude's cheeks flushed at the word jealous, and again at his +mention of Agatha. "And if I do," she said bitterly, "what then?" + +"If you do, Agatha's mind will be at ease, Erskine will be happy, +and you! You will have sacrificed yourself, and will have the +happiness which follows that when it is worthily done." + +"It is you who have sacrificed me," she said, casting away her +reticence, and looking at him for the first time during the +conversation. + +"I know it," he said, leaning towards her and half whispering the +words. "Is not renunciation the beginning and the end of wisdom? +I have sacrificed you rather than profane our friendship by +asking you to share my whole life with me. You are unfit for +that, and I have committed myself to another union, and am +begging you to follow my example, lest we should tempt one +another to a step which would soon prove to you how truly I tell +you that you are unfit. I have never allowed you to roam through +all the chambers of my consciousness, but I keep a sanctuary +there for you alone, and will keep it inviolate for you always. +Not even Agatha shall have the key, she must be content with the +other rooms--the drawing-room, the working-room, the dining-room, +and so forth. They would not suit you; you would not like the +furniture or the guests; after a time you would not like the +master. Will you be content with the sanctuary?" Gertrude bit +her lip; tears came into her eyes. She looked imploringly at him. +Had they been alone, she would have thrown herself into his arms +and entreated him to disregard everything except their strong +cleaving to one another. + +"And will you keep a corner of your heart for me?" + +She slowly gave him a painful look of acquiescence. "Will you be +brave, and sacrifice yourself to the poor man who loves you? He +will save you from useless solitude, or from a worldly +marriage--I cannot bear to think of either as your fate." + +"I do not care for Mr. Erskine," she said, hardly able to control +her voice; "but I will marry him if you wish it." + +"I do wish it earnestly, Gertrude." + +"Then, you have my promise," she said, again with some +bitterness. + +"But you will not forget me? Erskine will have all but that--a +tender recollection--nothing." + +"Can I do more than I have just promised?" + +"Perhaps so; but I am too selfish to be able to conceive anything +more generous. Our renunciation will bind us to one another as +our union could never have done." + +They exchanged a long look. Then he took out his watch, and began +to speak of the length of their journey, now nearly at an end. +When they arrived in London the first person they recognized on +the platform was Mr. Jansenius. + +"Ah! you got my telegram, I see," said Trefusis. "Many thanks for +coming. Wait for me whilst I put this lady into a cab." + +When the cab was engaged, and Gertrude, with her maid, stowed +within, he whispered to her hurriedly: + +"In spite of all, I have a leaden pain here" (indicating his +heart). "You have been brave, and I have been wise. Do not speak +to me, but remember that we are friends always and deeply." + +He touched her hand, and turned to the cabman, directing him +whither to drive. Gertrude shrank back into a corner of the +vehicle as it departed. Then Trefusis, expanding his chest like a +man just released from some cramping drudgery, rejoined Mr. +Jansenius. + +"There goes a true woman," he said. "I have been persuading her +to take the very best step open to her. I began by talking sense, +like a man of honor, and kept at it for half an hour, but she +would not listen to me. Then I talked romantic nonsense of the +cheapest sort for five minutes, and she consented with tears in +her eyes. Let us take this hansom. Hi! Belsize Avenue. Yes; you +sometimes have to answer a woman according to her womanishness, +just as you have to answer a fool according to his folly. Have +you ever made up your mind, Jansenius, whether I am an unusually +honest man, or one of the worst products of the social +organization I spend all my energies in assailing--an infernal +scoundrel, in short?" + +"Now pray do not be absurd," said Mr. Jansenius. "I wonder at a +man of your ability behaving and speaking as you sometimes do." + +"I hope a little insincerity, when meant to act as chloroform--to +save a woman from feeling a wound to her vanity--is excusable. +By-the-bye, I must send a couple of telegrams from the first +post-office we pass. Well, sir, I am going to marry Agatha, as I +sent you word. There was only one other single man and one other +virgin down at Brandon Beeches, and they are as good as engaged. +And so-- + +"'Jack shall have Jill, Nought shall go ill, The man shall have +his mare again; And all shall be well.'" + + + +APPENDIX + +LETTER TO THE AUTHOR FROM MR. SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + +My Dear Sir: I find that my friends are not quite satisfied with +the account you have given of them in your clever novel entitled +" An Unsocial Socialist." You already understand that I consider +it my duty to communicate my whole history, without reserve, to +whoever may desire to be guided or warned by my experience, and +that I have no sympathy whatever with the spirit in which one of +the ladies concerned recently told you that her affairs were no +business of yours or of the people who read your books. When you +asked my permission some years ago to make use of my story, I at +once said that you would be perfectly justified in giving it the +fullest publicity whether I consented or not, provided only that +you were careful not to falsify it for the sake of artistic +effect. Now, whilst cheerfully admitting that you have done your +best to fulfil that condition, I cannot help feeling that, in +presenting the facts in the guise of fiction, you have, in spite +of yourself, shown them in a false light. Actions described in +novels are judged by a romantic system of morals as fictitious as +the actions themselves. The traditional parts of this system are, +as Cervantes tried to show, for the chief part, barbarous and +obsolete; the modern additions are largely due to the novel +readers and writers of our own century--most of them +half-educated women,rebelliously slavish, superstitious, +sentimental, full of the intense egotism fostered by their +struggle for personal liberty, and, outside their families, with +absolutely no social sentiment except love. Meanwhile, man, +having fought and won his fight for this personal liberty, only +to find himself a more abject slave than before, is turning with +loathing from his egotist's dream of independence to the +collective interests of society, with the welfare of which he now +perceives his own happiness to be inextricably bound up. But man +in this phase (would that all had reached it!) has not yet +leisure to write or read novels. In noveldom woman still sets the +moral standard, and to her the males, who are in full revolt +against the acceptance of the infatuation of a pair of lovers as +the highest manifestation of the social instinct, and against the +restriction of the affections within the narrow circle of blood +relationship, and of the political sympathies within frontiers, +are to her what she calls heartless brutes. That is exactly what +I have been called by readers of your novel; and that, indeed, is +exactly what I am, judged by the fictitious and feminine standard +of morality. Hence some critics have been able plausibly to +pretend to take the book as a satire on Socialism. It may, for +what I know, have been so intended by you. Whether or no, I am +sorry you made a novel of my story, for the effect has been +almost as if you had misrepresented me from beginning to end. + +At the same time, I acknowledge that you have stated the facts, +on the whole, with scrupulous fairness. You have, indeed, +flattered me very strongly by representing me as constantly +thinking of and for other people, whereas the rest think of +themselves alone, but on the other hand you have contradictorily +called me "unsocial," which is certainly the last adjective I +should have expected to find in the neighborhood of my name. I +deny, it is true, that what is now called "society " is society +in any real sense, and my best wish for it is that it may +dissolve too rapidly to make it worth the while of those who are +" not in society "to facilitate its dissolution by violently +pounding it into small pieces. But no reader of "An Unsocial +Socialist " needs to be told how, by the exercise of a certain +considerate tact (which on the outside, perhaps, seems the +opposite of tact), I have contrived to maintain genial terms with +men and women of all classes, even those whose opinions and +political conduct seemed to me most dangerous. + +However, I do not here propose to go fully into my own position, +lest I should seem tedious, and be accused, not for the first +time, of a propensity to lecture --a reproach which comes +naturally enough from persons whose conceptions are never too +wide to be expressed within the limits of a sixpenny telegram. I +shall confine myself to correcting a few misapprehensions which +have, I am told, arisen among readers who from inveterate habit +cannot bring the persons and events of a novel into any relation +with the actual conditions of life. + +In the first place, then, I desire to say that Mrs. Erskine is +not dead of a broken heart. Erskine and I and our wives are very +much in and out at one another's houses; and I am therefore in a +position to declare that Mrs. Erskine, having escaped by her +marriage from the vile caste in which she was relatively poor and +artificially unhappy and ill-conditioned, is now, as the pretty +wife of an art-critic, relatively rich, as well as pleasant, +active, and in sound health. Her chief trouble, as far as I can +judge, is the impossibility of shaking off her distinguished +relatives, who furtively quit their abject splendor to drop in +upon her for dinner and a little genuine human society much +oftener than is convenient to poor Erskine. She has taken a +patronizing fancy to her father, the Admiral, who accepts her +condescension gratefully as age brings more and more home to him +the futility of his social position. She has also, as might have +been expected, become an extreme advocate of socialism; and +indeed, being in a great hurry for the new order of things, looks +on me as a lukewarm disciple because I do not propose to +interfere with the slowly grinding mill of Evolution, and effect +the change by one tremendous stroke from the united and awakened +people (for such she--vainly, alas!--believes the proletariat +already to be. As to my own marriage, some have asked +sarcastically whether I ran away again or not; others, whether it +has been a success. These are foolish questions. My marriage has +turned out much as I expected it would. I find that my wife's +views on the subject vary with the circumstances under which they +are expressed. + +I have now to make one or two comments on the impressions +conveyed by the style of your narrative. Sufficient prominence +has not, in my opinion, been given to the extraordinary destiny +of my father, the true hero of a nineteenth century romance. I, +who have seen society reluctantly accepting works of genius for +nothing from men of extraordinary gifts, and at the same time +helplessly paying my father millions, and submitting to monstrous +mortgages of its future production, for a few directions as to +the most business-like way of manufacturing and selling cotton, +cannot but wonder, as I prepare my income-tax returns, whether +society was mad to sacrifice thus to him and to me. He was the +man with power to buy, to build, to choose, to endow, to sit on +committees and adjudicate upon designs, to make his own terms for +placing anything on a sound business footing. He was hated, +envied, sneered at for his low origin, reproached for his +ignorance, yet nothing would pay unless he liked or pretended to +like it. I look round at our buildings, our statues, our +pictures, our newspapers, our domestic interiors, our books, our +vehicles, our morals, our manners, our statutes, and our +religion, and I see his hand everywhere, for they were all made +or modified to please him. Those which did not please him failed +commercially: he would not buy them, or sell them, or countenance +them; and except through him, as "master of the industrial +situation," nothing could be bought, or sold, or countenanced. +The landlord could do nothing with his acres except let them to +him; the capitalist's hoard rotted and dwindled until it was lent +to him; the worker's muscles and brain were impotent until sold +to him. What king's son would not exchange with me--the son of +the Great Employer--the Merchant Prince? No wonder they proposed +to imprison me for treason when, by applying my inherited +business talent, I put forward a plan for securing his full +services to society for a few hundred a year. But pending the +adoption of my plan, do not describe him contemptuously as a +vulgar tradesman. Industrial kingship, the only real kingship of +our century, was his by divine right of his turn for business; +and I, his son, bid you respect the crown whose revenues I +inherit. If you don't, my friend, your book won't pay. + +I hear, with some surprise, that the kindness of my conduct to +Henrietta (my first wife, you recollect) has been called in +question; why, I do not exactly know. Undoubtedly I should not +have married her, but it is waste of time to criticise the +judgment of a young man in love. Since I do not approve of the +usual plan of neglecting and avoiding a spouse without ceasing to +keep up appearances, I cannot for the life of me see what else I +could have done than vanish when I found out my mistake. It is +but a short-sighted policy to wait for the mending of matters +that are bound to get worse. The notion that her death was my +fault is sheer unreason on the face of it; and I need no +exculpation on that score; but I must disclaim the credit of +having borne her death like a philosopher. I ought to have done +so, but the truth is that I was greatly affected at the moment, +and the proof of it is that I and Jansenius (the only other +person who cared) behaved in a most unbecoming fashion, as men +invariably do when they are really upset. Perfect propriety at a +death is seldom achieved except by the undertaker, who has the +advantage of being free from emotion. + +Your rigmarole (if you will excuse the word) about the tombstone +gives quite a wrong idea of my attitude on that occasion. I +stayed away from the funeral for reasons which are, I should +think, sufficiently obvious and natural, but which you somehow +seem to have missed. Granted that my fancy for Hetty was only a +cloud of illusions, still I could not, within a few days of her +sudden death, go in cold blood to take part in a grotesque and +heathenish mummery over her coffin. I should have broken out and +strangled somebody. But on every other point I--weakly +enough--sacrificed my own feelings to those of Jansenius. I let +him have his funeral, though I object to funerals and to the +practice of sepulture. I consented to a monument, although there +is, to me, no more bitterly ridiculous outcome of human vanity +than the blocks raised to tell posterity that John Smith, or Jane +Jackson, late of this parish, was born, lived, and died worth +enough money to pay a mason to distinguish their bones from those +of the unrecorded millions. To gratify Jansenius I waived this +objection, and only interfered to save him from being fleeced and +fooled by an unnecessary West End middleman, who, as likely as +not, would have eventually employed the very man to whom I gave +the job. Even the epitaph was not mine. If I had had my way I +should have written: "HENRIETTA JANSENIUS WAS BORN ON SUCH A +DATE, MARRIED A MAN NAMED TREFUSIS, AND DIED ON SUCH ANOTHER +DATE; AND NOW WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHETHER SHE DID OR NOT?" The +whole notion conveyed in the book that I rode rough-shod over +everybody in the affair, and only consulted my own feelings, is +the very reverse of the truth. + +As to the tomfoolery down at Brandon's, which ended in Erskine +and myself marrying the young lady visitors there, I can only +congratulate you on the determination with which you have striven +to make something like a romance out of such very thin material. +I cannot say that I remember it all exactly as you have described +it; my wife declares flatly there is not a word of truth in it as +far as she is concerned, and Mrs. Erskine steadily refuses to +read the book. + +On one point I must acknowledge that you have proved yourself a +master of the art of fiction. What Hetty and I said to one +another that day when she came upon me in the shrubbery at Alton +College was known only to us two. She never told it to anyone, +and I soon forgot it. All due honor, therefore, to the ingenuity +with which you have filled the hiatus, and shown the state of +affairs between us by a discourse on " surplus value," cribbed +from an imperfect report of one of my public lectures, and from +the pages of Karl Marx! If you were an economist I should condemn +you for confusing economic with ethical considerations, and for +your uncertainty as to the function which my father got his start +by performing. But as you are only a novelist, I compliment you +heartily on your clever little pasticcio, adding, however, that +as an account of what actually passed between myself and Hetty, +it is the wildest romance ever penned. Wickens's boy was far +nearer the mark. + +In conclusion, allow me to express my regret that you can find no +better employment for your talent than the writing of novels. The +first literary result of the foundation of our industrial system +upon the profits of piracy and slave-trading was Shakspere. It is +our misfortune that the sordid misery and hopeless horror of his +view of man's destiny is still so appropriate to English society +that we even to-day regard him as not for an age, but for all +time. But the poetry of despair will not outlive despair itself. +Your nineteenth century novelists are only the tail of Shakspere. +Don't tie yourself to it: it is fast wriggling into oblivion. + +I am, dear sir, yours truly, + +SIDNEY TREFUSIS. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of An Unsocial Socialist, by Shaw + diff --git a/old/unsoc10.zip b/old/unsoc10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6d1dba --- /dev/null +++ b/old/unsoc10.zip |