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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: 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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