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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 20:13:03 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 20:13:03 -0800 |
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diff --git a/44210-0.txt b/44210-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d209e0 --- /dev/null +++ b/44210-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14942 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44210 *** + +Every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed. Some +typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text. The +spellings, knealt, musn't, your's, Your's & her's are consistent with +the printed text. (e-text transcriber's note) + + + + + THE ANGEL OF PAIN + + + + + THE + + ANGEL OF PAIN + + BY + + E. F. BENSON + + AUTHOR OF + "THE CHALLONERS," "DODO," "THE IMAGE IN THE SAND," ETC. + + [Illustration: colophon] + + PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON + J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY + 1906 + + COPYRIGHT, 1905 + BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY + + [Illustration: text decoration] + + + + + THE ANGEL OF PAIN + + + + +FIRST + + +The garden lay dozing in the summer sun, a sun, too, that was really hot +and luminous, worthy of mid-June, and Philip Home had paid his +acknowledgments to its power by twice moving his chair into the shifting +shade of the house, which stood with blinds drawn down, as if blinking +in the brightness. Somewhere on the lawn below him, but hidden by the +flower-beds of the terraced walk, a mowing-machine was making its +clicking journeys to and fro, and the sound of it seemed to him to be +extraordinarily consonant to the still heat of the afternoon. Entirely +in character also with the day was the light hot wind that stirred +fitfully among the garden beds as if it had gone to sleep there, and now +and then turned over and made the flowers rustle and sigh. Huge Oriental +poppies drooped their scarlet heads, late wall-flowers still sent forth +their hot, homely odour, peonies blazed and flaunted, purple irises +rivalled in their fading glories the budding stars of clematis that +swarmed up the stone vases on the terrace, golden rain showered from the +laburnums, lilacs stood thick in fragrant clumps and clusters. +Canterbury bells raised spires of dry, crinkly blue, and +forget-me-nots--nearly over--made a dim blue border to the glorious +carpet of the beds. For the warm weather this year had come late but +determinedly, spring flowers still lingered, and the later blossoms of +early summer had been forced into premature appearance. This fact +occupied Philip at this moment quite enormously. What would the garden +be like in July? There must come a break somewhere, when the precious +summer flowers were over, and before the autumn ones began. + +It was not unreasonable of him to be proud of his garden, for any +garden-lover would here have recognised a master-hand. Below, in the +thick clay that bordered the Thames, were the roses kept apart, with no +weed, no other flower to pilfer their rightful monopoly of "richness." A +flight of twelve stone steps led up from this garden to the tennis lawn, +a sheet of velvet turf, unbordered by any flowers to be trampled by +ball-seekers, or to be respected by ball-losers. Above again where he +sat now a deep herbaceous border ran round three sides of the gravelled +space, in the middle of which a bronze fountain cast water over Nereids +and aquatic plants, and behind him rose the dozing house, sun-blinds and +rambler rose, jasmine and red bricks. + +Certainly at this moment Philip was more than content with life, a very +rare but a very enviable condition of affairs. The lines seemed to him +to be laid not in pleasant but in ecstatic places, and youth, hard work, +a well-earned holiday, keen sensibilities, and being in love combined to +form a state of mind which might be envied by the happiest man God ever +made. An hour's meditation with a shut book which he had selected at +random from the volumes on the drawing-room table had convinced him of +this, and the interruption that now came to his solitary thoughts was as +delightful in its own way as the thoughts themselves. + +Mrs. Home did everything in the way most characteristic of her, and if a +Dresden shepherdess could be conceived as sixty years old she might +possibly rival the clean, precise delicacy of Philip's mother. She +dressed in grey and Quakerish colours, but of an exquisite neatness, and +her clothes smelled faintly but fragrantly of lavender and old-fashioned +herbs. Even at sixty the china-prettiness of her face gave her +pre-eminent charm; and her cheeks, wrinkled with no sharp lines of +sudden shock, but with the long pleasant passage of time, were as pink +and soft as a girl's. Her hair was perfectly white, but still abundant, +and, taken up in rather old-fashioned lines above her temples gave a +roundness and youth to her face which was entirely in keeping with her. +As she stepped out of the drawing-room window she put up her parasol, +and walked quietly over the gravel to where her dark, long-limbed son +was sitting. + +"Darling, would it not be wise of you to go for a row on the river?" +she said. "Your holiday is so short. I want you to make the best of it." + +Philip turned in his chair. + +"Darling, it would be most unwise," he said. "The best holiday is to do +nothing at all. People are so stupid! They think that if your brain, or +what does duty for it, is tired, the remedy is to tire your body also." + +"But a little walk, perhaps, Philip," said she. "I can explain to your +guests when they come. Do you know, I am rather frightened of them. That +extraordinary Mr. Merivale, for instance. Will he want to take off all +his clothes, and eat cabbages?" + +Philip's grave face slowly relaxed into a smile. He hardly ever laughed, +but his smile was very complete. + +"I shall tell him you said that," he remarked. + +Mrs. Home sat down with quite a thump at the horror of the thought. + +"Dear Philip," she said, "you mustn't--you really mustn't." + +He stretched out his hand to her. + +"Oh, mother," he said, "what will cure you of being so indiscreet except +threats, and putting those threats into execution if necessary? He will +want to take off all his clothes, as we all shall, if it goes on being +so hot. Only he won't any more than we shall. He will probably be +extremely well-dressed. No, the Hermit is only the Hermit at the +Hermitage. Even there he doesn't take off all his clothes, though he +lives an outdoor life. You never quite have recognised what a remarkable +person he is." + +"I should remark him anywhere," said Mrs. Home in self-defence. "And +what age is he, Philip? Is he twenty, or thirty, or what?" + +Philip considered. + +"He must be a year or two older than me," he said. "Yes, I should say he +was thirty-one. But it's quite true--he doesn't look any age; he looks +ageless. Entirely the result of no clothes and cabbages." + +"They always seem to me so tasteless," remarked Mrs. Home. "But they +seem to suit him." + +"Dear old Hermit!" said Philip. "I haven't seen him for a whole year. It +becomes harder and harder to get him away from his beloved forest." + +"I can never understand what he does with himself, year in, year out, +down there," said Mrs. Home. + +"He thinks," said Philip. + +"I should call that doing nothing," remarked his mother. + +"I know; there is that view of it. At the same time, it must be +extremely difficult to think all day. I have been thinking for an hour, +and I have quite finished. I should have had to begin to read if you +hadn't come out. And whom else are you frightened of out of all these +terrible people?" + +Mrs. Home smoothed her grey gown a little nervously. + +"I am frightened of Lady Ellington," she said. "She has so very much--so +very much self-possession. She is so practical, too: she always tells me +all sorts of ways of managing the house, and suggests all kinds of +improvements. It is very kind of her, and she is always quite right. And +I think I am a little afraid of Madge." + +"Ah, I can't permit that," said Philip, smiling again. + +This brought their talk at once into more intimate lands. + +"Ah, dear Philip," she said. "I pray God that it may go well with you!" + +Philip sat upright in his chair, and the book fell unheeded to the +ground. + +"How did you guess?" he said. "I suspect you of being a witch, mother; +and if we had lived a few hundred years ago, instead of now, it would +have been my painful duty to have had you burned. It would have hurt you +far more than me, because the sense of duty would have sustained me. I +never said a word to you about Madge, yet you knew I was in love with +her, I think, almost before I knew it myself." + +"Yes, dear. I am sure I did," said Mrs. Home with gentle complacence. + +"Well, you dear witch, tell me how you knew." + +"Oh, Philip, it was easy to see. You never looked at any girl before +like that. I used to be afraid you would never marry. You used to say +dreadful things, you know, that really frightened me. Even since you +were quite a little boy, you thought women were a bother. You used to +say they couldn't play games, and were always in the way, and had +headaches, and were without any sense of honour." + +"All quite true in the main," said the misogynous Philip. + +Mrs. Home held up her hands in protest. + +"Dear, when have you known me have a headache, or do anything +dishonourable?" she asked pertinently. + +"I always excepted you. And I except Madge. She beat me at croquet the +other day, and in the middle of the game volunteered the information +that she had not moved the ball she croquetted." + +"She always would," said his mother gently. "Oh, Philip, good luck to +your wooing, my dear!" + +There was a long pause; a sparrow in a prodigious bustle alighted on the +edge of the fountain, and drank as if it had been a traveller straight +from Sahara; the wind woke again in the flower-beds and gave a long, +fragrant sigh; the sun-blinds of the drawing-room stirred as it wandered +by them, and the pale purple petals of a grape-bunch cluster of wisteria +fell on the crimson-striped canvas. The exquisiteness of this midsummer +moment struck Philip with a sudden pang of delight, none the less keen +because the love with which his soul was full was not yet certain or +complete: the pause before completion was his. + +"Thank you, mother," he said at last. "I shall know very soon, I shall +ask her while she is here." + +He got up as he spoke. + +"I can't sit still any more," he said. "Speaking of it has made me +restless. I must go and do something violent. Perhaps I will take your +advice and go for a row. They will not be here till nearly seven. Oh, +by-the-way, Evelyn Dundas is coming, too. You will have someone to flirt +with, mother." + +"Dear, you say such dreadful things!" said Mrs. Home. "And if you say +them while Lady Ellington is here, I shall feel so awkward." + +"Well, Evelyn proposed to elope with you last time he was here," said +Philip. "I think I shall commission him to paint your portrait." + +"Who wants the picture of an old woman like me?" said Mrs. Home. "But +get him to do Madge's." + +Philip considered this. + +"That's an idea," he said. "He could paint her divinely. Really, +mother--if ah! a big 'if.' Do you know, I'm rather uneasy about Evelyn." + +"Why? I thought he was getting on so well." + +"He is as far as painting goes. They think very highly of him. But the +moment he gets a couple of hundred pounds he buys a motor-car or +something, and next week his watch is in pawn. Now, when you are +twenty-five, it is time to stop doing that." + +"I know," said Mrs. Home. "He is dreadful! Last time he was here he gave +me a pearl-brooch that must have cost him fifty pounds." + +"That was to induce you to run away with him," remarked Philip. "That +was quite understood, and I think you behaved rather badly in not doing +so." + +"Philip, you mustn't!" + +"No, nor must you! And now I'm going on the river. If I get drowned it +will be your fault for having suggested it." + +"Ah, do be careful in those locks," said Mrs. Home. "I get so nervous +always when the water goes down and down." + +"There's more chance of getting drowned when it goes up and up," said +her son, kissing her on the forehead as he passed her chair. + +Philip Home at the age of thirty-one was, perhaps, as successful a man +of his age as any in the financial world. His father, the head of one of +the big South African houses, had died some five years before, and since +then the burden of a very large and prosperous house had rested almost +entirely on his shoulders, which physically as well as morally were +broad. But he combined in an extraordinary degree the dash and +initiative of youth with a cool-headedness and sobriety of judgment +which, in general is not achieved until something of the fire of the +other is lost, and his management was both brilliant and safe. Yet, as +must always happen, the habit of mind necessary to the successful +conduct of large financial interests, which among other ingredients is +made up of incessant watchfulness and a certain hardness in judging and +acting, had, it must be confessed, somewhat tinged his whole character, +and the world in general was right in its estimate of him as a man who +was rather brusque and unsympathetic, a man with an iron hand who did +not always even remember to put on the velvet glove. This was a +perfectly just conclusion as far as the world in general, that is to +say, the world of mere acquaintances, was concerned, and Philip's fine +collection of prints was considered to be regarded by him as an +investment rather than a joy. They made the same judgment about his +garden, thinking that the rarity of plants was a quality more +highly-prized by him than their beauty. But where the world in general +did him an injustice was that they did not allow for a circle which, +though small, was far more intimate and vastly more competent to form +the true estimate of the man than they, the circle of friends. These +were four in number--his mother, Madge Ellington, namely--and the two +men to whom allusion has already been made, namely--the Hermit and +Evelyn Dundas. They saw, all four of them, a perfectly different Philip +to him who somewhat elbowed his way through the uninteresting ranks of +acquaintances, or sat, detached from the real essential man, in his +orderly office, harsh-faced, unsmiling and absorbed. And this essential +Philip in his own sanctum, where only these four ever came, was, indeed, +a very lovable and eager personage; and though the world did not know +it, his prints really hung there, and in the windows his flowers +blossomed. But few were admitted there, and those only not on business. + +So this very efficient person, if we rate efficiency, as seems to be the +fashion, by the amount of income-tax annually harvested by the State, +left the shade of the house and his mother sitting there, whistled for +the two fox-terriers that lay dozing in the shade and went off towards +the river. The smile which he wore when in his sanctum of intimates +still lingered on his face as he passed down the stone steps to the +croquet lawn below, but then it faded. Nor did the gardener who was +mowing the lawn smile. + +"I gave orders it was to be mown yesterday morning," said Philip; "and +it is only half done yet. Did you receive those orders or not?" + +The man, a huge young Hercules, touched his cap. + +"Yes, sir; at least----" + +"There is no 'at least,'" said Philip. "If you can't do as you are told +you will have to go." + +And he whistled--that Philip who was a parody of himself--to the dogs, +and went on. + +But before he had got down to the river the official Philip had +dispersed, mistlike, in the glorious golden blaze of the summer +afternoon, and the man his mother knew (she would scarcely, indeed, have +recognised the other) had taken his place again, and as he rowed lazily +down the river he gave himself up to mere receptivity of the full-blown +beauty that was shed broadcast on sky and land and water. The spring had +long been backward and wet, but now the pitiless rains of April bore a +glorious and iridescent fruit. Brimful ran the stream from bank to bank, +one sheet of untarnished crystal, reflecting the luminous turquoise of +the sky. To his right stretched meadows all golden with the flowering of +the buttercup; and cattle, knee-deep in the feathery foliage, grazed +contentedly, or stood in the shallows of the river to drink, breathing +out long soft breaths of kine-fragrance. Between the fields stood elms, +stalwart towers of innumerable leaf, and a little way below the red +roofs of Pangbourne nestled among red and white flowering thorns. One +such tree, a cascade of crimson blossom, grew near the river brink, and +Philip paused on his oars a moment as he passed, for the sprays of +colour were outlined by the vivid blue of the sky, and on either side +stretched the incredible gold of the buttercups. No artist dared have +painted that, yet how simple and how triumphantly successful! To the +left the sun was just sinking beneath the high lines of wooded hills, +and already the tide of clear warm shadow was beginning to advance +across the stream. In the woods that covered the hills every shade of +green, from the pale milkiness of young beech to the dark velvet of the +oak, were mingled together, and glowed as if lit from within with the +flakes of sunlight that filtered through the leaves. But that divine +restfulness of various green was, somehow less to Philip's mind than the +shouting colours of the sunlit fields. For the tides of life, the +strong, sweeping currents of vitality, of love, of the work without +which the active brain grows hungry and starves, were dashing in +headstrong race within him, and rest and tranquility and soft brooding +over what has been seemed to him a poor substitute for the eager +harvesting of youth. His sickle was in his hand, and he pressed eagerly +forward through the ripening corn of life that fell in swathes to his +sweeping strokes. + +The little party who were assembling at his house that afternoon were to +stay with him a week of Whitsuntide. He would, he expected, be probably +obliged to go up to London for the inside of the last two days of their +stay, but he had managed--chiefly by means of working some sixteen +hours out of the twenty-four during the last week--to secure for himself +five days of complete holiday. Like a wise man, he had refused to pepper +his house with mere acquaintances when friends were there, and with only +one out of his four guests did he, like his mother, not feel on terms of +intimacy. Her presence, however, as Madge's mother, was a matter of +necessity, and Philip did not hide from himself the fact that she +certainly favoured his suit. For Lady Ellington, as Mrs. Home had +already remarked, was a very practical woman, and it seemed to her, in +her own phrasing, that Madge could scarcely "do better." Her practical +sense, it may be remarked, was like an all-fitting handle with a smart +steel spring which grasped whatever was presented to it in firm +tentacles; and the proper way of sweeping carpets, the right board wages +for scullery-maids, the correct lead with doubled no trumps at bridge, +were as clearly defined in her mind as the desirability of wealth in +sons'-in-law. She was, it may be added, extremely generous with advice, +being anxious to lay open to all the world the multifarious discoveries +of her master-mind. + +Lady Ellington was certainly a very handsome woman, and the passage of +the glacier of years over her face and her mind had produced hardly any +striations either on the one or the other. Her bodily health was superb, +and she took the utmost care of it; while, since one of her most +constantly applied maxims was to let no sadness or worry weigh on her, +her mind had by this time become something like a very hard, bright, +polished globe which it was impossible to dint or damage. She had +strolled after tea with her hostess and Madge to the croquet lawn, +leaving Evelyn Dundas and Tom Merivale to smoke and await Philip's +return from the river. The gardener there was still engaged in his +belated mowing, and Lady Ellington examined the cutter with a +magisterial air. + +"Very old-fashioned and heavy," she said. "You should get the new light +American type. It does far more work, and a boy with it can get through +what it takes a man to do with a heavier machine. How many gardeners do +you keep, Mrs. Home." + +The poor lady shook her head. + +"I don't really know," she said. "How many are there of you, Hawkins?" + +Lady Ellington sniffed rather contemptuously. + +"The labour-sheet will tell you," she said. "Why are there no flower +borders on this lawn?" + +"Ah, that is Philip's plan," said his mother, delighted to be able to +refer the inquisitor to another source. "He says that they get so +trampled by people looking for balls." + +"I should have thought wire-netting would have obviated that," said Lady +Ellington. "Under the north wall there is an excellent aspect. +Personally, I should put bulbs here. And the rose garden is below, is it +not? Certainly Mr. Home keeps his garden in fairly good order." + +This concession, though not altogether unqualified, was fully +appreciated by Mrs. Home. + +"I'm sure he spends enough on it," she said. + +Lady Ellington laughed. + +"That is the surest way of getting satisfactory results," she said. "It +is all nonsense to say that flowers do best in the gardens of those that +love them, unless that love takes the practical form of spending money +on them. And in the latter case, they do equally well if you hate them!" + +This was in the best Ellingtonian manner, hard and clean-cut and +glittering--there was nothing foggy about it--and it represented very +fairly Lady Ellington's method of dealing with life. Love or hatred did +not seem to her to matter very particularly; the dinner of herbs, at any +rate, in the house of love was markedly less attractive to her than the +well-ordered house of hate, and she could do without friends better than +without a motor-car. She had had rather a hard tussel with life, and +shrewd blows had been given on both sides; she had lost her money and +her husband during the last few years, and, being without a son, the +title and estates had gone to her husband's nephew, a man for whom for +years she had felt, and indeed shown, an extreme dislike. Her jointure +was narrow, and she had only got her motor-car by the simple expedient +of ordering it but not paying for it. But of the two combatants--life +and herself--life was at last beginning to get the worst of it. Certain +speculations she had lately indulged in had brought her in money, and if +once she could marry her daughter to Philip, she felt that this would be +a knock-down blow to life, and her struggles on this side of the grave +would be over. What might happen on the other side concerned her very +little. + +Madge meantime, while this short cross-examination had been going on, +strolled a little behind the other two, with a faint smile of amusement +in her eyes. She had inherited all her mother's beauty, and dark violet +eyes glowed beneath her black lashes. Her nose was a little tip-tilted, +as if raised in curiosity about things in general, but her mouth +somewhat contradicted that, for it drooped a little at the corners, as +if to imply that her curiosity when satisfied proved rather +disappointing. Curiosity and a shade of contempt, indeed, were the +emotions most strongly in evidence on her face, and the +observer--allowing that features may represent the character of their +owner rather than that of her ancestry--would perhaps conclude that her +habitual view of the world was of the kind that tends to laugh at rather +than with that admirable comedy. Otherwise her face was strangely +sexless; it was, indeed, more the face of a boy than of a girl. Even +among tall women she was tall, and by her side Mrs. Home looked more +than ever like a figure of Dresden china. + +Lady Ellington after her sympathetic remark about flowers, turned to her +daughter. + +"Well situated, is it not, Madge?" she said. "And the river is below +there. You will be all day on it, I expect, if Mr. Home is kind enough +to take you. And who else is here, Mrs. Home?" + +"Ah, there is no party at all, I am afraid," said she. "Philip said that +acquaintances mix so badly with friends. Only Mr. Dundas and Mr. +Merivale." + +Lady Ellington thought this over for a moment, and the conclusion +apparently was most satisfactory. + +"That is charming of him!" she said. "It is always a compliment to be +asked to a small party; whereas, if you have a houseful it doesn't +matter who is there. Dear me, those roses should be cut much further +back, if they are to do any good. But it is quite true; if one asks +friends and acquaintances together, the friends always wonder why the +acquaintances have been asked, and the acquaintances are disgusted that +nobody takes any notice of them. And I particularly want your son's +advice on some shares I have lately purchased. Mr. Dundas, too--I am so +glad to meet him. They say his portraits are going up in price so. I +wonder if he could be induced--just a little sketch---- Ah, there is +Mr. Home coming up from the river. I wonder why he wears a dark coat on +so hot a day?" + +A little curiosity perhaps lingered in Madge's face when she met Philip, +and certainly the contempt all vanished. She had a great respect and +liking for him, and her whole expression brightened when she saw him. +Then after greetings they strolled on, the two elder ladies in front. + +"Mother has a great many questions to ask you," she said to him in a +gentle, slow, but very audible voice. "She wants to know how many +gardeners you have, why you don't cut your roses back and something +about South African mines." + +Philip's habit of neatness and instinct of gardening led him to stop a +moment and nip off a couple of ill-localised buds from a rose. In effect +the two others got a little further ahead of them. This may or may not +have been intentional. + +"All my information is at her service," he said--"particularly on the +subject of roses, about which I know more than South African mines." + +"And care more!" suggested Madge. + +"Infinitely more. Are they not clearly more attractive?" + +Madge looked at him curiously. + +"I believe you really think so," she said. "And that is so odd. Doesn't +the scheming, the calculation, the foresight required in financial +things interest you enormously?" + +"Certainly; but I scheme just as much over the roses. Whether this one +is to have--well, a whisky-and-soda, or whether it is rheumatic and +wants a lowering treatment; that is just as interesting in itself as +whether South Africans want lowering or screwing up." + +"You mean you can do that? You can send things up or down? You can say +to us, to mother: 'You shall be poorer to-morrow or richer'?" + +Philip laughed. + +"I suppose so, to some extent. Pray don't let us talk about it. It +sounds rather brutal, and I am afraid it is brutalising. Yet, after all, +a landlord may put up the rent of his houses." + +Madge Ellington walked on for a few paces without replying. + +"How odd of you," she said at length, "not to feel the fascination of +power. I don't mean to say that one would necessarily want to use it, +but it must be so divine to know it is there. Well, if you wish, I won't +talk about it." + +Philip turned to her, his brown thin face looking suddenly eager. + +"Ah, I would sooner hear you talk about what you please than about what +I please," he said. + +She laughed. + +"Can't I manage to combine the two?" she said. "The river, for instance, +I think we both love that. Will you promise to let me live on the river +while I am here?" + +"I warn you that you will have a good deal of my company, then," said +he. + +She laughed again. + +"But as you are my host I can't decently object," she said. "Oh, tell +me, Mr. Home, what is Mr. Dundas like? You are a great friend of his, +are you not? He was at tea, and asked a series of the silliest riddles, +which somehow made me giggle. Giggle hopelessly, do you understand; they +were so stupid. And he is the Mr. Dundas, who paints everybody as if +they were so much more interesting than they are?" + +"Yes, evidently the same," said Philip. "And what you say is quite true. +Yet, again, as you say, his conversation is futile beyond words." + +Madge walked on again in silence a little. + +"I think that combination is rather charming," she said. "People don't +laugh enough, and certainly he makes one laugh. I wish I laughed more, +for instance." + +"And has Merivale come?" asked Philip. + +"Yes; he was at tea, too. What does he do?" + +"He doesn't do anything. He just thinks." + +"Good heavens! how frightfully fatiguing. All the time, do you mean?" + +"Yes, all the time. Have you never met him before? Yet, how should you? +He lives in the New Forest, and communes with birds and animals. People +think he is mad, but he is the sanest person I know." + +"Why?" asked she. + +"Because he has had the wit to find out what he likes, and to do it all +the time." + +"And what is that?" asked the girl. + +"He sits by a stream and looks at the water. Then he lies on his back +and looks at the sky. Then he whistles, chuckles, what you please to +call it, and the thrushes come scudding out of the bushes and chuckle +back at him." + +"Is that not rather uncanny?" asked Madge. + +"Most uncanny. Some day, as I tell him, he will see Pan. And I shall +then have to attend a funeral." + +The girl's eyebrows wrinkled into a frown. + +"Pan?" she said. + +"Yes; he is the God of 'Go as you please!' And his temple is a lunatic +asylum. But don't be alarmed. The Hermit won't go into a lunatic asylum +yet awhile." + +"The Hermit?" + +"Yes, the Hermit is Merivale. Because he lives quite alone in the New +Forest. He never reads, he hardly ever sees anybody, he never does +anything. He used to write at one time." + +Madge shivered slightly. + +"How intensely uncomfortable!" she said. "I think I shall like Mr. +Dundas best." + +"You are sure to like him." + +"Because everybody does? That is the worst of reasons. I always distrust +very popular people." + +"The judgment of the world is usually wrong, you mean. But occasionally +one stumbles on an exception." + +The four had turned back towards the house, and as Philip spoke, he and +his companion gained the top step of the gravelled square bordered by +flower-beds, where he had sat two hours ago with his mother. The shadow +of the house had swung over it, and in the gathering dusk the +flower-beds glowed with a dim subaqueous radiance. Philip's mother and +Lady Ellington had already passed into the open French window of the +drawing-room, but on the stout balustrade of the terrace there sat a +young man. One long slim leg rested on the gravel, the other was crooked +round the lead vase at the head of the steps. His face, extraordinarily +boyish, was clean-shaven, or rather so boyish was it, that it looked as +if it was still untouched by razor. He held a cigarette in one hand, and +the other, long-fingered and white as a woman's, grasped his knee. + +"Oh, Philip!" he cried; "how are you? Oddly enough, I am quite well. I +always was, like Sydney Smith and his great coat. Isn't there time for +a game of croquet before dinner? Let's all be late, and so we shall all +be punctual; it is only a question of degree. Miss Ellington, do come +and play. Why did the barmaid champagne, and--oh, I asked you that. +Stout, porter is rather good though. I do believe you know it, Philip." + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +SECOND + + +Tom Merivale did not, as Mrs. Home had feared he might, appear without +clothes at dinner, nor did he make clamorous demands for cabbage. It is +true that he ate no meat of any kind, but he was not of the preaching +sort of vegetarians, and did not call attention to his abstinence. +Instead, he and Evelyn Dundas between them managed to turn the meal into +a ridiculous piece of gaiety by sheer exuberance of animal spirits, and +even Lady Ellington forgot to examine the dishes with her usual +magisterial air, and really ate and drank without criticising. + +There was an extraordinary superficial resemblance in certain ways +between the two men. Both, at any rate, were glorious examples of the +happiness that springs from health, a happiness which is as inimitable +as it is contagious. By health, it must be premised, is not meant the +mere absence of definite ailments, but that perfect poise between an +active mind and an exuberant body which is so rare. + +It was on this very subject that Merivale was speaking now. + +"Ah, no, Lady Ellington," he was saying, "to be able to get through the +day's work, day after day and year after year, is not health. Perfect +health implies practically perfect happiness." + +"But how if you have a definite cause of worry?" she said. + +"You can't worry when you are well. One knows, for example, that if one +is definitely unwell, the same cause produces greater worry and +discomfort than if one is not. And my theory is, that if one is +absolutely well, if your mind and soul, that is to say, as well as your +body, are all in accord with each other and with their environment, +worry is impossible." + +Lady Ellington, to do her justice, always listened to that were really +new to her. She always assumed, by the way, that they were not. + +"My theory exactly," she said. "I could scarcely have lived through +these last years unless I had made up my mind never to let any anxiety +take hold of me." + +Evelyn Dundas laughed. Dinner was nearing its end and conversation was +general. + +"My mind and my body are not in absolute accord this moment," he said, +"and I am rather anxious. My body demands some more ice-pudding; my mind +tells me it would be extremely unwise. Which am I to listen to, Tom?" + +"Give Mr. Dundas some more ice-pudding," remarked Philip to a footman. + +"The laws of hospitality compel me to fall in with my host's +suggestions," said Evelyn. "Tom, where you are wrong lies in thinking +that it is worth while spending all your time in keeping well. He lives +in the New Forest, Lady Ellington, and if when you are passing you hear +the puffs of a loud steam-engine somewhere near Brockenhurst you will +know it is Tom doing deep breathing. He expects in time to become a +Ram-jam or something, by breathing himself into Raj-pan-puta." + +Tom Merivale laughed. + +"No, I don't want to become a Ram-jam," he said, "whatever that may be. +I want to become myself." + +"No clothes," murmured Mrs. Home. + +"Become yourself?" asked Lady Ellington. + +"Yes, most of us are stunted copies of our real selves," he said. +"Imitations of what we might be. And what might one not be?" + +The talk had got for him, at any rate, suddenly serious, and he looked +up at Lady Ellington with a sparkling eye. + +"Explain," she said. + +"Well, it seems to me one cripples oneself in so many ways. One allows +oneself to be nervous, and to be angry, and to be bound by conventions +that are useless and cramping." + +"Tall hats, frock-coats?" asked she. + +"No, certainly not, because they, at any rate, are perfectly harmless. +But, to take an example of what I mean, it seems to me a ridiculous +convention that we should all consider ourselves obliged to know what is +going on in the world. It does not really do one any good to know that +there is war between China and Japan. What does do us good is not to be +ill-tempered, and never to be sad. Sadness and pessimism are the worst +forms of mental disease I know. And the state will not put sad and +pessimistic people in asylums, or isolate them at any rate so that their +disease should not spread. Such diseases are so frightfully catching, +and they are more fatal than fevers. People die of them, soul and body!" + +Lady Ellington felt that Mrs. Home was collecting her eye, and rose. + +"What a fascinating theory," she said. "Just what I have always thought. +Ah, I have caught my dress under my chair. You should have castors, Mr. +Home, on your dining-room chairs." + + * * * * * + +Evelyn moved up next to Tom Merivale after the others had left them. + +"Dear old Hermit!" he said. "Now, you've got to give an account of +yourself. Neither Phil nor I have seen you for a year. What have you +been doing?" + +Tom let the port pass him. + +"I suppose you would call it nothing," said he. + +"Ah, but in real life people don't go and live in the New Forest and do +nothing. What have you written in the last year?" + +"Not one line. Seriously, I have been doing nothing except a little +gardening and carpentering; just manual labour to keep one sane."' + +"Well, it looks as if it suited you. You look well enough, and what is +so odd, you look so much younger." + +Tom laughed again. + +"Ah, that strikes you, does it?" he said. "I suppose it could not have +been otherwise, though that wasn't my object in going to live there." + +"Well, tell us, then!" said Evelyn, rather impatiently. He had begun to +smoke, and smoked in a most characteristic manner; that is to say, that +in little more than a minute his cigarette was consumed down one side, +and was a peninsula of charred paper down the other, while clouds of +smoke ascended from it. Perceiving this, he instantly lit another one. + +But Philip rose. + +"Tell us afterwards, Tom," he said. "Lady Ellington likes to play +bridge, I know, as soon as dinner is over." + +Evelyn rose also. + +"Ah, she is like me," he said. "She wants to do things not soon, but +immediately, Philip, how awfully pretty Miss Ellington is. Why wasn't I +told? I should like to paint her." + +Philip paused by the door. + +"Really, do you mean that?" he said. "And have you got time? I hear you +always have more orders than you can ever get through." + +Evelyn tossed his head with a quick, petulant gesture. + +"You talk as if I was a tailor," he said. "But you suggest to me the +advisability of my getting apprentices to paint the uninteresting people +for me, and I will sign them. That would satisfy a lot of them. Yes, I +have more than I can do. But I could do Miss Ellington remarkably well. +Shall I ask her to sit for me?" + +"That would be rather original, the first time you saw her." + +"A good reason for doing it," said Evelyn, hastily drinking another +glass of port. + +"But it would certainly give her a good reason for saying 'No,'" +remarked Philip. + +Madge, it appeared, did not play bridge; her mother, at any rate, said +she did not, and Evelyn Dundas, rather to his satisfaction, cut out. +That feat happily accomplished, he addressed himself to Madge. + +"Fancy a hermit playing bridge!" he said. "Does it not seem to you very +inconsistent? Patience is the furthest he has any right to go." + +Madge got up. + +"Patience, both in cards and in real life, seems to me a very poor +affair," she said. "How are we going to amuse ourselves while they play? +Will you go out of the room while I think of something, and then you can +come in and guess it?" + +An amendment occurred to Evelyn. + +"We might both go out," he said. "It is deliciously warm; just out on to +the terrace." + +"And when we come in they can guess where we have been," said Madge. + +The night, as he had said, was deliciously warm, and the moon, a day or +two only from full, shone with a very clear light. Below them lay the +dim, huddled woods, and beyond, shining like a streak of silver, slept +the Thames. Somewhere far away a train was panting along its iron road, +and to the left scattered lights showed where Pangbourne stood. Odours +of flowers were wafted from the beds, and pale-winged moths now and then +crossed the illuminated spaces of light thrown by the drawing-room +window on to the gravel. + +"Ah, what a pity to be indoors!" said the girl as they stepped out. "I +suppose I must be of Gipsy blood; I always want to go somewhere." + +"Where particularly?" asked he. + +"That doesn't matter; the going is the point. If you asked me to go to +the Black Hole of Calcutta I should probably say 'Yes.' What a pity we +can't go on the river!" + +"Ah, let us do that!" said he. + +Madge laughed. + +"It would be quite unheard-of," she said. "I don't live in the New +Forest like Mr. Merivale, and cast conventions aside. No, we will walk +up and down a little, and then you shall go and play. Do you know, I am +really so pleased to have met you I have admired your pictures so. Do +you find it a bore having that sort of thing said to you?" + +Evelyn thought over this for a moment. + +"Well, I think my pictures bore me when they are done," he said, "though +the opinion of other people never does. A picture is--is like a cold in +the head. It possesses you while it is there, and you have to throw it +off. And when it is thrown off, one never thinks of it again. At least, +I don't." + +They had come to the end of the terrace, and the girl stopped as they +turned. + +"And then you do another. Ah, how delightful to know that probably to +the end of your life you will have things to do!" + +"I don't think you would say that if you had to do them," said he. "Yet, +I don't know. Of course creating a thing is the biggest fun in the +world. But how one tears one's hair over it!" + +Madge looked at his thick black thatch. + +"You seem to have got some left," she remarked. + +"Yes, but I'm looking thinner. Mrs. Home told me so. Oh, look at the +moon! What a dreadful thing to say, too! But it really is out of +drawing--it is far too big!" + +"Perhaps we are far too small," said she. + +Evelyn shook his head. + +"It is impossible to be small if that occurs to you," he said. + +They walked in silence after this for a dozen yards or so, Madge +feeling, somehow, strangely attracted by her companion. There was +nothing, it is true, particularly brilliant about his conversation; it +was boyish rather than brilliant; but she felt, as most people did, that +she was in the presence of a personality that was rather unusual. And +this personality seemed to her to be very faithfully expressed in his +pictures; there was something daringly simple about both him and them. +He evidently said whatever came into his head, and her experience was +that so many people only talked about such things as were supposed to be +of interest. Also, in spite of this moonlight solitude, he evinced not +the smallest tendency to notice the fact that she was a very +good-looking girl; no hint of it appeared in his talk or his attitude to +her. There was not the very slightest suspicion of that even in his +desire to go on the river with her. That ridiculous suggestion she felt, +with unerring instinct, had been made simply from comrade to comrade; +there were two of them together, cut out from a table of bridge, and he +had proposed it just as he might have proposed it to a man, instead of a +girl, of his own age. And to Madge this was something of an exception in +her experience of the other sex, for most unmarried men of her +acquaintance had shown a tendency towards tenderness. Her beauty made it +perhaps excusable in them, but she found it rather trying. It was a +relief, at any rate, to find a young man who took her frankly, who could +say "Look at the moon," only to point out that it was out of drawing. +For in the matter of emotion Madge was strangely unfeeling, or, at any +rate, strangely undeveloped; and if her mother had let any anxiety dwell +upon her hard and polished mind, the doubts about Madge's future would, +perhaps, have pressed as heavily there as any. As a good mother should, +she had brought to her daughter's notice, not to say thrown at her +head, a large variety of young men, to none of whom had Madge responded +at all satisfactorily. And it was almost intensely pleasing to her at +this moment to find someone matrimonially quite impossible to her +mother's mind, who was both so attractive to her personally, and who did +not show the smallest desire to treat her otherwise than a man should +treat a man. He was perfectly natural, in fact, perfectly simple, and +quite an exception to her experience of moonlight walkers. And this +paragon continued his peerless way. + +"Have you met Tom Merivale before?" he asked. "No? Of course he would +think it almost profane to say the moon was too large. He takes any fact +in nature and then proceeds to fit himself to it. Whatever untutored +nature does is right, in his view. I wonder what he would make of slugs +eating the faces of pansies slowly away. I shall ask him." + +Madge gave a little shriek of horror. + +"That is one of the facts of life which I can't get over," she said. "I +can't reconcile myself to wanton destruction of beauty. Oh, there is so +little in the world." + +Now, there is a particular mental sensation which corresponds to the +physical sensation of stepping up a step when there is no step there. +Evelyn felt this now. + +She had gone suddenly into vacancy, with a thump. + +"What do you mean?" he said. "I should have thought there was so much +there that one was bewildered. Surely almost everything is beautiful." + +"Do you really think that?" she asked. + +"Why, of course. But the trouble is that one has not wits enough to see +it. And all beauty is equal--woman, man, mountain-side, pansy. And +probably slug," he added. "But to appreciate that would require a great +deal of insight. But Sir John Lubbock says that earwigs are excellent +mothers. That opened my eyes to earwigs." + +Again Madge walked on in silence for a space. + +"Are you ever bored?" she asked at length. + +"Bored? No. All that anyone has ever made is at one's disposal to wonder +at. And if one can't do that, one can go and make something oneself. No, +I hope I shall have the grace to commit suicide before I am bored." + +Madge stopped and turned to him. That she was being unwise she knew, +but something intimate and indwelling dictated to her. + +"I am bored every day of my life!" she said. "And how can I avoid it? Is +it very stupid of me?" + +Evelyn did not hesitate in his reply. + +"Yes, very!" he said. "Because it is such a waste of time to be bored. +People don't recollect that." + +They had come opposite the drawing-room window, and as they passed Lady +Ellington stepped out on to the terrace. + +"Is that you, Madge?" she asked. + +Even in the darkness Evelyn knew what had happened to Madge's face. The +fall of it was reflected in her voice. + +"Yes; have you finished your bridge?" she asked. + +"We are waiting for Mr.--Mr. Dundas to cut in," she said. "Mr. Home +thought he was in the smoking-room, and has gone there." + +"Oh, I am not in the smoking-room," said Evelyn. + +If one judged by definitions given in dictionaries it would probably be +a misuse of language to say that Lady Ellington "played" bridge. Cards +were dealt her, and she dealt with them, embarking on commercial +transactions. She assessed the value of her hand with far more accuracy +than she had ever brought to play on the assessment of her income-tax, +and proceeded to deal with her assets with even more acuteness than she +was accustomed to dispose on the expenditure of her income. Mrs. Home +had silently entreated Philip to allow her to cut out, and Lady +Ellington was left to play with three men. This she always enjoyed, +because she took full advantage of the slight concessions which were +allowed to her sex if no other woman was of the table. But before +embarking on the second rubber she turned to Madge. + +"I want to speak to you, dearest," she said, "before you go to bed. We +shall only play a couple more rubbers. Mr. Home, you really ought to +have pneumatic cards; they are a little more expensive, but last so much +longer--yes, two more rubbers--I go no trumps--and I will come to your +room on my way up. No doubling? Thank you, partner; that is the suit I +wanted." + +Philip, who was her partner, had exposed two excellent suits, so the +imagination of the others might run riot over which particular suit was +the desire of Lady Ellington. At any rate she scored a little slam, but +was not satisfied, and turned on Evelyn, who, it is idle to remark, had +talked during the play. + +"I missed a nine," she said. "Mr. Dundas was saying something very +amusing." + +But as her face had been like flint, Mr. Dundas had to draw the +inference that, however amusing, she had not been amused. + +Lady Ellington always kept the score herself, and never showed any signs +of moving, if she had won, until accounts had been adjusted and paid. +To-night affairs had gone prosperously for her; she was gracious in her +"good-nights," and even commended the admirable temperature of the hot +water, a glass of which she always sipped before going to bed. Madge had +gone upstairs, but not long before; and her mother, having locked her +winnings into her dressing-case, came to her room and found her sitting +by the open window, still not yet preparing to go to bed. + +"Do I understand that you walked on the terrace alone with Mr. Dundas?" +she asked in a peculiarly chilly voice. + +Madge showed no surprise; she had known what was coming. + +"Yes, we took a turn or two," she said. + +Her mother sat down; Madge had not turned from the window and was still +looking out. + +"Kindly attend, Madge," she said. "It was very indiscreet, and you know +it. I don't think Mr. Home liked it." + +Of the girl who had talked so eagerly and naturally to Evelyn on the +terrace there was hardly a trace; Madge's face had grown nearly as hard +as her mother's. + +"I am not bound just yet to do all Mr. Home likes," she said. + +"You are bound, if you are a sensible creature, at all events not to run +any risks, especially now." + +Madge turned away from the window. + +"You mean until the bargain is completed. Supposing I refuse?" she said, +and there was a little tremor in her voice, partly of contempt, partly +of fear. + +Lady Ellington, as has been remarked, never let her emotions, however +justifiable, run away with her; she never, above all, got hot or angry. +Causes which in others would produce anger, produced in her only an +additional coldness and dryness, which Madge was, somehow, afraid of +with unreasoning nightmare kind of fear. + +"I will not suppose anything so absurd!" said her mother. "You are +twenty-five years old, and you have never yet fallen in love at all. But +as I have pointed out to you before, you will be far happier married +than living on into the loneliness and insignificance of being an old +maid. Lots of girls never fall in love in the silly, sentimental manner +which produces lyrics. You are quite certainly one of them. And as +certainly Mr. Home is in love with you." + +"We have been into this before," said the girl. + +"It is necessary, apparently, to go into it again. Mr. Home, I feel +certain, is going to propose to you, and you should not do indiscreet +things. With regard to your refusing him, it is out of the question. He +is extremely suitable in every way. And you told me yourself you had +made up your mind to accept him." + +"You made up my mind," said Madge; "but it comes to the same thing." + +"Precisely. So please promise me not to do anything which a girl in your +position should not do. There is no earthly harm in your walking with +any penniless artist in the moonlight, if you were not situated as you +are. But at the moment it is indiscreet." + +"You are wrong if you suppose that Mr. Dundas said anything to me which +could possibly be interpreted into a tender interest," said Madge. "He +called attention to the moon merely in order to remark that it was out +of drawing." + +"That never occurred to me," said her mother, "though it would be a +matter of total indifference whether he took a tender interest in you or +not. I merely want your promise that you will not repeat the +indiscretion." + +"Oh, certainly," said Madge. + +Lady Ellington had put her bedroom candle on Madge's dressing-table. As +soon as she had received the assurance she required, she at once rose +from her chair and took it up. But with it in her hand she stood silent +a moment, then she put it down again. + +"You have spoken again of things I thought were settled, Madge," she +said, "and I should like your assurance on one point further. We agreed, +did we not, that it would be far better for you to marry than remain +single. We agreed also that you were not of the sort of nature that +falls passionately in love, and we agreed that you had better marry a +man whom you thoroughly like and esteem. Mr. Home is such a man. Is that +correctly stated?" + +"Quite," said Madge. "In fact, I don't know why I suggested that I +should refuse him." + +"You agree to it all still?" + +Madge considered a moment. + +"Yes; things being as they are, I agree." + +"What do you mean by that exactly?" + +Madge got up, and swept across the room to where her mother stood. + +"I have long meant to say this to you, mother," she said, "but I never +have yet. I mean that at my age one's character to some extent certainly +is formed. One has to deal with oneself as that self exists. But my +character was formed by education partly and by my upbringing, for which +you are responsible. I think you have taught me not to feel--to be +hard." + +Lady Ellington did not resent this in the slightest; indeed, it was part +of her plan of life never to resent what anybody did or said; for going +back to first principles, resentment was generally so useless. + +"I hope I have taught you to be sensible," she remarked. + +"It seems to me I am being very sensible now," said Madge, "and you may +certainly take all the credit of that, if you wish. I fully intend to +do, at any rate, exactly what you suggest--to accept, that is to say, a +man whom I both esteem and respect, and who is thoroughly suitable. For +suitable let us say wealthy--because that is what we mean." + +Lady Ellington qualified this. + +"I should not wish you to marry a cad, however wealthy," she said. + +Madge moved softly up and down the room, her dress whispering on the +carpet before she replied. + +"And it does not strike you that this is rather a cold-blooded +proceeding?" she asked. + +"It would if you were in love with somebody else. In which case I should +not recommend you to marry Mr. Home. But as it is, it is the most +sensible thing you can do. I would go further than that; I should say it +was your duty." + +Again Madge walked up and down without replying at once. + +"Ah, it is cold-blooded," she said, "and I am doing it because I am +cold-blooded." + +Then she stopped opposite her mother. + +"Mother, when other girls fall in love, do they only feel like this?" +she asked. "Is this all? Just to feel that for the rest of one's life +one will always have a very pleasant companion in the house, who, I am +sure, will always deserve one's liking and esteem?" + +Lady Ellington laughed. + +"My dear, I can't say what other girls feel. But, as you remark, it is +all you feel. You are twenty-five years old, and you have never fallen +in love. As you say, you have to take yourself as you are. Good night, +dear. It is very late." + +She kissed her, left her, and went down the passage to her own room. She +was a very consistent woman, and it was not in the slightest degree +likely that she should distrust the very sensible train of reasoning +which she had indicated to her daughter, which also she had held for +years, that a sensible marriage is the best policy in which to invest a +daughter's happiness. Lady Ellington's own experience, indeed, supplied +her with evidence to support her view, for she herself was an excellent +case in point, for her husband had been a man with whom she had never +been the least in love, but with whom, on the other hand, she had +managed to be very happy in a cast-iron sort of way. She felt, indeed, +quite sure, in her reasonable mind, that she was acting wisely for +Madge, and it was not in her nature to let an unreasonable doubt trouble +her peace. But an unreasonable doubt was there, and it was this, that +Madge for the first time, as far as she knew, seemed to have +contemplated the possibility of passion coming into her life. There had +been in her mind, so her mother felt sure, an unasked question--"What if +I do fall in love?" + +Lady Ellington turned this over in the well-lit chamber of her brain as +she went to bed. But her common-sense came to her aid, and she did not +lie awake thinking of it. She had made up her mind that such a thing was +unlikely to the verge of impossibility, and she never wasted time or +thought over what was impossible. Her imagination, it is true, was +continually busy over likely combinations; there were, however, so many +of these that things unlikely did not concern her. + +The men meantime had gone to the smoking-room, and from there had moved +out in general quest of coolness on to the terrace. The moon had risen +nearly to the zenith, and no longer offended Evelyn's sense of +proportion, and the night, dusky and warm, disposed to personal talk. +And since neither Evelyn nor Philip had seen Tom Merivale for a year, it +was he who had first to be brought up to date. + +"So go on with what you were saying at dinner, Tom," said Evelyn. +"Really, people who are friends ought to keep a sort of circulating +magazine, in which they write themselves up and send it round to the +circle. In any case, you of the three of us are most in arrears. What +have you done besides growing so much younger?" + +"Do you really want to know?" asked he. + +"Yes." + +Evelyn rose as he spoke and squirted some soda-water into his glass. +They were sitting in the square of light illuminated by the lamps of the +room inside, and what passed was clearly visible to all of them. + +"You must sit quiet then," said Tom, in his low, even-toned voice, "or +you will frighten them." + +"Them? Whom? Are you going to raise spirits from the vasty deep?" asked +Philip. + +"Oh, no; though I fancy it would not be so difficult. No, what I am +going to show you, if you care to see it--it may take ten minutes--is a +thing that requires no confederates. It is not the least exciting +either. Only if you wish to see what I have done, as you call it, though +personally I should say what I have become, I can give you an example +probably. Oh, yes, more than probably, I am sure I can. But please sit +still." + +The night was very windless and silent. In the woods below a nightingale +was singing, but the little wind which had stirred before among the +garden beds had completely dropped. + +"Have you begun?" asked Evelyn. "Or is that all? Is it that you have +been silent for a year?" + +"Ah, don't interrupt," said the other. + +Again there was silence, except for the bubbling of the nightingale. +Four notes it sang, four notes of white sound as pure as flame; then it +broke into a liquid bubble of melodious water, all transparent, +translucent, the apotheosis of song. Then a thrill of ecstasy possessed +it, and cadence followed indescribable cadence, as if the unheard voice +of all nature was incarnated. Then quite suddenly the song ceased +altogether. + +There was a long pause; both Evelyn and Philip sat in absolute silence, +waiting. Tom Merivale had always been so sober and literal a fellow that +they took his suggestion with the same faith that they took the +statements of an almanack--it was sure to be the day that the almanack +said it was. But for what they waited--what day it was--neither knew nor +guessed. + +Then the air was divided by fluttering wings; Tom held his hand out, and +on the forefinger there perched a little brown bird. + +"Sing, dear," said he. + +The bird threw its head back, for nightingales sing with the open +throat. And from close at hand they all three heard the authentic love +song of the nightingale. The unpremeditated rapture poured from it, +wings quivering, throat throbbing, the whole little brown body was alert +with melody, instinctive, untaught, the melody of happiness, of love +made audible. Then, tired, it stopped. + +"Thank you, dear brother," said Tom. "Go home." + +Again a flutter of wings whispered in the air, and his forefinger was +untenanted. + +"That is what I have done," he said. "But that is only the beginning." + +Evelyn gave a long sigh. + +"Are you mad, or are we?" he asked. "Or was there a bird there? Or are +you a hypnotist?" + +He got up quickly. + +"Phil, I swear I saw a bird, and heard it sing," he said excitedly. "It +was sitting there, there on his finger. What has happened? Go on, +Tom--tell us what it means." + +"It means you are the son of a monkey, as Darwin proved," said he, "and +the grandson, so to speak, of a potato. That is all. It was a cousin of +a kind that sat on my finger. Philip, with his gold and his Stock +Exchange and his business generally, does much more curious things than +that. But, personally, I do not find them so interesting." + +Philip, silent as was his wont when puzzled, instead of rushing into +speech, had said nothing. But now he asked a question. + +"Of course, it was not a conjuring trick," he said. "That would be +futility itself. But you used to have extraordinary hypnotic power, Tom. +I only ask--Was that a real nightingale?" + +"Quite real." + +Evelyn put down his glass untasted. + +"I am frightened," he said. "I shall go to bed." + +And without more words he bolted into the house. + +Philip called good night after him, but there was no response, and he +was left alone with the Hermit. + +"I am not frightened," he said. "But what on earth does it all mean? +Have a drink?" + +Tom Merivale laughed quietly. + +"It means exactly what I have said," he answered. "Come down to my home +sometime, and you shall see. It is all quite simple and quite true. It +is all as old as love and as new as love. It is also perfectly +commonplace. It must be so. I have only taken the trouble to verify it." + +Philip's cool business qualities came to his aid, or his undoing. + +"You mean you can convey a message to a bird or a beast?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes. Why not? The idea is somehow upsetting to you. Pray don't let +it upset you. Nothing that happens can ever be upsetting. It is only the +things that don't happen that are such anxieties, for fear they may. But +when they have happened they are never alarming." + +He pushed his chair back and got up. + +"Ah, I have learned one thing in this last year," he said, "and that is +to be frightened at nothing. Fear is the one indefensible emotion. You +can do nothing at all if you are afraid. You know that yourself in +business. But whether you embark on business or on--what shall I call +it?--nature-lore, the one thing indispensable is to go ahead. To take +your stand firmly on what you know, and deduce from that. Then to test +your deduction, and as soon as one will bear your weight to stand on +that and deduce again, being quite sure all the time that whatever is +true is right. Perhaps sometime the world in general may see, not +degradation in the origin of man from animals, but the extraordinary +nobility of it. And then perhaps they will go further back--back to +Pagan things, to Pan, the God of nature." + +"To see whom meant death," remarked Philip. + +"Yes, or life. Death is merely an incident in life. And it seems to me +now to be rather an unimportant one. One can't help it. Whereas the +important events are those which are within one's control; one's powers +of thought, for instance." + +Philip rose also. + +"And love," he said. "Is that in one's control?" + +Tom took a long breath. + +"Love?" he said. "It is not exactly in one's control, because it is +oneself. There, the dear bird has got home." + +And again from the trees below the bubble of liquid melody sounded. + + + + +THIRD + + +Evelyn Dundas was sitting next morning after breakfast on the terrace, +where what he alluded to as "the nightingale trick" had been performed +the evening before, in company with the conjurer who had performed it. +Philip and Madge Ellington had just gone down to the river, Lady +Ellington who was to have accompanied them having excused herself at the +last moment. But since a mother was in closer and more intimate +connection with a girl than a mere chaperone, she had seen not the +smallest objection to the two going alone. Indeed she had firmly +detained Evelyn by a series of questions which required answers, from +joining them, and, though deep in a discussion about art, she had +dropped it in its most critical state when she judged that the other two +had been given time to get under way. It had required, indeed, all her +maternal solicitude to continue it so long, for she cared less for art +or Evelyn's theories about it than for a week-old paper. + +Like most artists, Evelyn had a somewhat egoistic nature, and since his +personality was so graceful and interesting, it followed that many +people found his talk equally so, especially when he talked about +himself. For his egoism he had an admirably probable explanation, and he +was at this moment explaining it to Tom Merivale, who had made the soft +impeachment with regard to its undoubted existence. + +"Ah, yes," he was saying, "an artist's business is not to put things +down as they are, but to put them down as they strike him. Actual truth +has nothing to do with the value of a landscape. The point is that the +picture should be beautiful. And the same with portraits, only beauty +there is unnecessary. You have to put down what you think you see, or +what you choose to see." + +"That shouldn't lead to egoism," remarked Tom. "It should lead you to +the study of other people." + +Evelyn shook his head. + +"No, no," he said, "it leads you to devote yourself entirely almost to +the cultivation of your own faculty of seeing. All fine portraits show a +great deal of the artist, and perhaps comparatively little of the +sitter. Why are Rembrandts so unmistakable? Not because the type of his +sitters themselves was almost identical, but because there is lots of +Rembrandt in each. You can't have style unless you are egoistic. In +fact, for an artist style means egoism. I have heaps. I don't say or +pretend it's good, but there it is. Take it or leave it." + +Tom Merivale laughed. + +"You are perfectly inimitable," he said. "I love your serious, vivid +nonsense. That you are an egoist is quite, quite true. But how much +better an artist you would be if you weren't. What you want is +deepening. You don't like the deeps, you know. You haven't got any. You +don't like what you don't understand; that very simple little affair +last night, for instance, frightened you." + +Egoists are invariably truthful--according to their lights--about +themselves. Evelyn was truthful now. + +"Yes, that is so," he said. "I don't pretend to wish to seek out the +secrets of the stars. But I know what I like. And I don't like anything +that leads into the heart of things. I don't like interiors and +symbolism. There is quite enough symbol for me on the surface. What I +mean is that the eyebrow itself, the curve of the mouth, will tell you +quite as much as one has any use for about the brain that makes the +eyebrow frown or the mouth smile. Beauty may be skin deep only, but it +is quite deep enough. Skin deep! Why, it is as deep as the sea!" + +Tom Merivale was silent a little. + +"Do you know, you are an interesting survival of the Pagan spirit?" he +said at length. + +Evelyn laughed. + +"Erect me an altar then at once, and crown me with roses," he remarked. +"But what have I said just now that makes you think that?" + +"Nothing particular this moment," he answered, "though your remarking +that beauty was enough for you is thoroughly Greek in its way. No; what +struck me was that never have I seen in you the smallest rudiment or +embryo of a conscience or of any moral sense." + +Evelyn looked up with real interest at this criticism. + +"Oh, that is perfectly true," he said. "Certainly I never have remorse; +it must be awful, a sort of moral toothache. All the same, I don't steal +or lie, you know." + +"Merely because lying and stealing are very inartistic performances," +said Tom. "But no idea of morality stands in your way." + +Evelyn got up, looking out over the heat-hazed green of the woods below +them with his brilliant glance. + +"Is that very shocking?" he asked, with perfectly unassumed _naïvetê_. + +"I suppose it is. Personally, I am never shocked at anything. But it +seems to me very dangerous. You ought to wear a semaphore with a red +lamp burning at the end of it." + +Evelyn half shut his eyes and put his head on one side. + +"I don't think that would compose well," he said. + +"That is most consistently spoken," said Tom. "But really, if you are +ever in earnest about anything beside your art, you would be a public +danger." + +Evelyn turned round on this. + +"You call me a Pagan," he said. "Well, what are you, pray, with your +communings with nature and conjuring tricks with nightingales? You +belong to quite as early a form of man." + +"I know. I am primeval. At least I hope to be before I die." + +"What's the object?" + +"In order to see Pan. I am getting on. Come down to the New Forest +sometime, and you shall see very odd things, I promise you. Really, +Evelyn, I wish you would come. It would do you no end of good." + +He got up, and taking the arm of the other man, walked with him down the +terrace. + +"You are brilliant, I grant you," he said; "but you are like a mirror, +only reflecting things. What you want is to be lit from within. Who is +it who talks of the royalty of inward happiness? That is such a true +phrase. All happiness from without is not happiness at all; it is only +pleasure. And pleasure is always imperfect. It flickers and goes out, it +has scratching nails----" + +Evelyn shook himself free. + +"Ah, let me be," he said. "I don't want anything else. Besides, as you +have told me before, you yourself dislike and detest suffering or pain. +But how can you hope to understand Nature at all if you leave all that +aside? Why, man, the whole of Nature is one groan, one continuous +preying of creature on creature. In your life in the New Forest you +leave all that out." + +Tom Merivale paused. + +"I know I do," he said, "because I want to grasp first, once and for all +the huge joy that pervades Nature, which seems to me much more vital in +itself than pain. It seems to me that pain may be much more rightly +called absence of joy than joy be called absence of pain. What the whole +thing starts from, the essential spring of the world is not pain and +death, but joy and life." + +"Ah, there I am with you. But there is so much joy and life on the +surface of things that I don't wish to probe down. Ah, Tom, a day like +this now; woven webs of blue heat, hot scents from the flower beds, the +faces of our friends. Is that not enough? It is for me. And, talking of +faces, Miss Ellington has the most perfectly modelled face I ever saw. +The more I look at it, the more it amazes me. I stared at her all +breakfast. And the charm of it is its consistent irregularity; not a +feature is anything like perfect, but what a whole! I wish I could do +her portrait." + +Tom laughed. + +"There would not be the slightest difficulty about that, I should say," +he remarked, "if you promise to present it to her mother." + +"Why, of course, I would. How funny it must feel to be hard like that. +She is very bruising; I feel that I am being hit in the eye when she +talks to me. And she knows how many shillings go to a sovereign." + +"Twenty," remarked Tom. + +"Ah, that is where you are wrong. She gets twenty-one for each of her +sovereigns. And thirteen pence for each of her shillings, and the +portrait of her daughter for nothing at all. Oh, Tom, think of it--with +a background of something blue, cornflower, forget-me-nots, or lilac, to +show how really golden her hair is. There's Mrs. Home." + +Evelyn whistled with peculiar shrillness on his fingers to the neat +little figure on the croquet lawn below them. She started, not +violently, for nothing she did was violent, but very completely. + +"Ah, it is only you," she said. "I thought it might be an express train +loose. Are you not going on the river, dear Evelyn?" + +"I was prevented," he said, jumping down the steps in one flying leap. +"Dear Philippina----" + +"What next? What next?" murmured Mrs. Home. "Oh, do behave, Evelyn." + +"Well, Philip is your son, so you are Philippina. But why have +prize-fighters in your house?" + +"Prize-fighters?" + +"Yes. Lady Ellington had my head in Chancery for ten minutes just now. +She delivered a series of quick-firing questions. I know why, too; it +was to prevent my going on the river. She was perfectly successful--I +should think she always was successful; she mowed me down. Now will you +tell me the truth or not?" + +"No, dear Evelyn," said Mrs. Home rather hastily, guessing what was +coming. + +"Then you are a very wicked woman; but as I now know you are going to +tell an untruth, it will do just as well for my purpose. Now, is Philip +engaged to Miss Ellington?" + +"No, dear; indeed he is not," said Mrs. Home. + +"Oh, why not lie better than that?" said Evelyn. + +Mrs. Home clasped her white, delicate little hands together. + +"Ah, but it is true," she said. "It really is literally true, as far as +I know." + +Evelyn shook his head at her. + +"But they have been gone half an hour," he said. "You mean--I tell you, +you mean that they may be now, for all you know." + +Mrs. Home turned her pretty, china-blue eyes on to him, with a sort of +diminutive air of dignity. + +"Of course you are at liberty to put any construction you please on +anything I say," she remarked. + +"I am," said he, "and I put that. Now, are you pleased at it?" + +"She is charming," said Mrs. Home, hopelessly off her guard. + +"That is all I wanted to know," said Evelyn. "But what a tangled web +you weave, without deceiving me in the least, you old darling." + +Tom Merivale had not joined Evelyn, but strolled along the upper walk +through herbaceous borders. He had not stayed away from his home now for +the past year, and delighted though he was to see these two old friends +of his again, he confessed to himself that he found the call on +sociability which a visit tacitly implied rather trying. More than that, +he found even the presence of other people in the house with whom he was +not on terms of intimacy a thing a little upsetting, for his year of +solitude had given some justification to his nickname. For solitude is a +habit of extraordinary fascination, and very quick to grow on anyone who +has sufficient interest in things not to be bored by the absence of +people. And with Tom Merivale, Nature, the unfolding of flowers, the +lighting of the stars in the sky, the white splendour of the moon, the +hiss of the rain on to cowering shrubs and thirsty grass was much more +than an interest; it was a passion which absorbed and devoured him. For +Nature, to the true devotee, is a mistress far more exacting and far +more infinite in her variety and rewards than was ever human mistress to +her adorer. Tom Merivale, at any rate, was faithful and wholly constant, +and to him now, after a year spent in solitude in which no man had ever +felt less alone, no human tie or affection weighed at all compared to +the patient devotion with which he worshipped this ever young mistress +of his. To some, indeed, as to Mrs. Home, this cutting of himself off +from all other human ties might seem to verge on insanity; to others, as +to Philip, it might equally well be construed into an example of perfect +sanity. For he had left the world, and cast his moorings loose from +society in no embittered or disappointed mood; the severance of his +connection with things of human interest had been deliberate and sanely +made. He believed, in fact, that what his inner essential self demanded +was not to be found among men, or, as he had put it once to Philip, it +was to be found there in such small quantities compared to the mass of +alloy and undesirable material from which it had to be extracted, that +it was false economy to quarry in the world of cities. More than this, +too, he had renounced, though this second renunciation had not been +deliberate, but had followed, so he found, as a sequel to the other; for +he had been a writer of fiction who, though never widely read, had been +prized and pored over by a circle of readers whose appreciation was +probably far more worth having than that of a wider circle could have +been. Then, suddenly, as far as even his most intimate friends knew, he +had left London, establishing himself instead in a cottage, of the more +comfortable sort of cottages, some mile outside Brockenhurst. In the +tea-cup way this had made quite a storm in the set that knew him well, +those, in fact, by whom he was valued as an interpreter and a living +example of the things of which he wrote. These writings had always been +impersonal in note, slightly mystical, and always with the refrain of +Nature running through them. But none, when he disappeared as completely +as Waring, suspected how vital to himself his disappearance had been. +Anything out of the way is labelled, and rightly by the majority, to be +insane. By such a verdict Tom Merivale certainly merited Bedlam. He had +gone away, in fact, to think, while the majority of those who crowd into +the cities do so, not to think, but to be within reach of the +distractions that leave no time for thought. For action is always less +difficult than thought; a man can act for more hours a day than he can +think in a week, and action, being a productive function of the brain, +is thus (rightly, also, from the social point of view) considered the +more respectable employment. + +The subject of this difficult doctrine, however, was more than content; +as he had said, he was happy, a state far on the sunward side of the +other. He seemed to himself, indeed, to be sitting very much awake and +alert on some great sunlit slope of the world, untenanted by man, but +peopled with a million natural marvels unconjectured as yet by the +world, but which slowly coming into the ken of his wondering and patient +eyes. For a year now he had consciously and solely devoted himself to +the study and contemplation of life, that eternal and ever-renewed life +of Nature, and the joy manifested therein. He had turned his back with +the same careful deliberation on all that is painful in Nature, all +suffering, all that hinders and mars the fulness of life, on everything, +in fact, which is an evidence of imperfection. In this to a large extent +he was identically minded with Christian Scientists, but having faced +the central idea of Christianity, namely, the suffering which was +necessary as atonement for sin, he had confessed himself unable to +accept, at present at any rate, the possibility of suffering being ever +necessary, and could no longer call himself a Christian. Happiness was +his gospel, and the book in which he studied it was Nature, omitting +always such chapters as dealt with man. For man, so it seemed to him, +had by centuries of evolution built himself into something so widely +different from Nature's original design, that the very contemplation of +and association with man was a thing to be avoided. Absence of serenity, +absence of happiness, seemed the two leading characteristics of the +human race, whereas happiness and serenity were the chief of those +things for which he sought and for which he lived. + +This year's solitude and quest for joy had already produced in him +remarkable results. He had been originally himself of a very +high-strung, nervous, and irritable temperament; now, however, he could +not imagine the event which should disturb his equanimity. For this, as +far as it went alone, he was perfectly willing to accept the possible +explanation that a year's life in the open air had wrought its simple +miracle of healing on his nerves, and, as he had said to Lady Ellington, +the perfection of health had eliminated the possibility of discontent. + +But other phenomena did not admit of quite so obvious an interpretation; +and it was on these that he based his belief that, though all that +occurred must necessarily be natural, following, that is to say, laws of +nature, he was experiencing the effects of laws which were to the rest +of the world occult or unknown. For in a word, youth, with all its vivid +vigour, its capacity for growth and expansion, had returned to him in a +way unprecedented; his face, as Evelyn had noticed, had grown younger, +and in a hundred merely corporeal ways he had stepped back into early +manhood. Again, and this was more inexplicable, he had somehow +established, without meaning to, a certain communion with birds and +beasts, of which the "nightingale trick" had been a small instance, +which seemed to him must be a direct and hitherto unknown effect of his +conscious absorption of himself in Nature. How far along this unexplored +path he would be able to go he had no idea; he guessed, however, that he +had at present taken only a few halting steps along a road that was lost +in a golden haze of wonder. + +He strolled along out through the garden into a solitary upland of +bush-besprinkled turf. Wild flowers of downland, the rock-rose, the +harebell, orchids, and meadow-sweet carpeted the short grass, and +midsummer held festival. But this morning his thoughts were distracted +from the Nature-world in which he lived, and he found himself dwelling +on the human beings among whom for a few days he would pass his time. It +was natural from the attitude of this last year that Evelyn Dundas and +Mrs. Home should be of the party in the house the most congenial to him, +and the simplicity of them both seemed to him far more interesting than +the greater complexity of the others. It would, it is true, be hard to +find two examples of simplicity so utterly unlike each other, but serene +absence of calculation or scheming brought both under one head. They +were both, in a way, children of Nature; Mrs. Home on the one hand +having arrived at her inheritance by cheerful, unswerving patience and +serenity with events external to herself; while in the case of the +other, his huge vitality, coupled with his extreme impressionableness to +beauty, brought him, so it seemed to Tom Merivale, into very close +connection with the essentials of life. But, as he had told his friend, +Evelyn's attitude to life was instinctively Pagan; immoral he was not, +for his fastidiousness labelled such a thing ugly, but he had apparently +no rudiments even of conscience or sense of moral obligation. And +somehow, with that curious sixth sense of prescience, so common in +animals, so rare among civilized human beings who, by means of continued +calculation and reasoned surmise of the future, which has caused it to +wither and atrophize, Tom felt, just as he could feel approaching +storms, a vague sense of coming disaster. + +The sensation was very undefined, but distinctly unpleasant, and, +following his invariable rule to divert his mind from all +unpleasantness, he lay down on the short turf and buried his face in a +great bed of thyme which grew there. All summer was in that smell, hot, +redolent, the very breath of life, and with eyes half-closed and +nostrils expanded he breathed it deeply in. + +The place he had come to was very remote and solitary, a big clearing in +the middle of trees, well known to him in earlier years. No road crossed +it, no house lay near it, but the air was resonant with the labouring +bees, and the birds called and fluted to each other in the trees. But +suddenly, as he lay there, half lost in a stupor of happiness, he heard +very faintly another noise, to which at first he paid but little +attention. It was the sound apparently of a flute being played at some +great distance off, but what soon arrested his attention was the +extremely piercing character of the notes. Remote as the sound was, and +surrounded as he was by the hundred noises of the summer noon, it yet +seemed to him perfectly clear and distinct through them all. Then +something further struck him, for phrase after phrase of delicious +melody was poured out, yet the same phrase was never repeated, nor did +the melody come to an end; on the top of every climax came another; it +was a tune unending, eternal, and whether it came from earth or heaven, +from above or below, he could not determine, for it seemed to come from +everywhere equally; it was as universal as the humming of the bees. + +Then suddenly a thought flashed into his mind; he sprang up, and a +strange look of fear crossed his face. At the same instant the tune +ceased. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +FOURTH + + +It was not in Lady Ellington's nature to be enthusiastic, since she +considered enthusiasm to be as great a waste of the emotional fibres as +anger, but she was at least thoroughly satisfied when, two evenings +after this, Madge came to her room before dinner after another punting +expedition with Philip, and gave her news. + +"It is quite charming," said her mother, "and you have shown great good +sense. Dear child, I must kiss you. And where is Mr. Home--Philip I must +call him now?" + +"He is outside," said Madge. "I said I would go down again for a few +minutes before dinner." + +Lady Ellington got up and kissed her daughter conscientiously, first on +one cheek and then on the other. + +"I will come down with you," she said, "just to tell him how very much +delighted I am. I shall have to have a long talk to him to-morrow +morning." + +There was no reason whatever why the engagement should not be announced +at once, and in consequence congratulations descended within the half +hour. Mrs. Home was a little tearful, with tears of loving happiness on +behalf of her son, which seemed something of a weakness to Lady +Ellington; Tom Merivale was delighted in a sort of faraway manner that +other people should be happy; Evelyn Dundas alone, in spite of his +previous preparation for the news, felt somehow slightly pulled up. For +with his complete and instinctive surrender to every mood of the moment, +he had permitted himself to take great pleasure in the contemplation--it +was really hardly more than that--of Madge's beauty, and he felt +secretly, for no shadow obscured the genuineness of his congratulations, +a certain surprise and sense of being ill-used. He was not the least in +love with Madge, but even in so short a time they had fallen into ways +of comradeship, and her engagement, he felt, curtailed the liberties of +that delightful relationship. And again this evening, having cut out of +a bridge table, he wandered with her in the perfect dusk. Lady Ellington +this time observed their exit, but cheerfully permitted it; no harm +could be done now. It received, in fact, her direct and conscious +sanction, since Philip had suggested to Madge that Evelyn should paint +her portrait. He knew that Evelyn was more than willing to do so, and +left the arrangement of sitting to sitter and artist. In point of fact, +it was this subject that occupied the two as they went out. + +"We shall be in London for the next month, Mr. Dundas," Madge was +saying, "and of course I will try to suit your convenience. It is so +good of you to say you will begin it at once." + +Evelyn's habitual frankness did not desert him. + +"Ah, I must confess, then," he said. "It isn't at all good of me. You +see, I want to paint you, and I believe I can. And I will write +to-morrow to a terrible railway director to say that in consequence of a +subsequent engagement I cannot begin the--the delineation of his +disgusting features for another month." + +Madge laughed; as is the way of country-house parties, the advance in +intimacy had been very rapid. + +"Oh, that would be foolish," she said. "Delineate his disgusting +features if you have promised. My disgusting features will wait." + +"Ah, but that is just what they won't do," said Evelyn. + +"Do you mean they will go bad, like meat in hot weather? Thank you so +much." + +"My impression will go bad," said he. "No, I must paint you at once. +Besides"--and still he was perfectly frank--"besides Philip is, I +suppose, my oldest friend. He has asked me to do it, and friendship +comes before cheques." + +They walked in silence a little while. + +"I am rather nervous," said Madge. "I watched you painting this +afternoon for a bit." + +"Oh, a silly sketch," said he, "flowers, terrace, woods behind; it was +only a study for a background." + +"Well, it seemed to affect you. You frowned and growled, and stared and +bit the ends of your brushes. Am I going to be stuck up on a platform to +be growled at and stared at? I don't think I could stand it; I should +laugh." + +Evelyn nodded his head in strong approval. + +"That will be what I want," he said. "I will growl to any extent if it +will make you laugh. I shall paint you laughing, laughing at all the ups +and downs of the world. I promise you you shall laugh. With sad eyes, +too," he added. "Did you know you had sad eyes?" + +Madge slightly entrenched herself at this. + +"I really haven't studied my own expression," she said. "Women are +supposed to use mirrors a good deal, but they use them, I assure you, to +see if their hair is tidy." + +"Your's never is quite," said he. "And it suits you admirably." + +Again the gravel sounded crisply below their feet, without the overscore +of human voices. + +Then he spoke again. + +"And please accept my portrait of you as my wedding present to you--and +Philip," he said with boyish abruptness. + +Madge for the moment was too utterly surprised to speak. + +"But, Mr. Dundas," she said at length, "I can't--I--how can I?" + +He laughed. + +"Well, I must send it to Philip, then," he said, "if you won't receive +it. But--why should you not? You are going to marry my oldest friend. I +can't send him an ivory toothbrush." + +This reassured her. + +"It is too kind of you," said she. "I had forgotten that. So send it to +him." + +"Certainly. But help me to make it then as good as I can." + +"Tell me how?" she asked, feeling inexplicably uneasy. + +"Why, laugh," he said. "That is how I see you. You laugh so seldom, and +you might laugh so often. Why don't you laugh oftener?" + +Then an impulse of simple honesty came to her. + +"Because I am usually bored," she said. + +"Ah, you really mustn't be bored while I am painting you," he said. "I +could do nothing with it if you were bored. Besides, it would be so +uncharacteristic." + +"How is that, when I am bored so often?" she asked. + +"Oh, it isn't the things we do often that are characteristic of us," +said he. "It is the things we do eagerly, with intention." + +She laughed at this. + +"Then you are right," she said. "I am never eagerly bored. And to tell +you the truth, I don't think I shall be bored when I sit to you. Ah, +there is Philip. He does not see us; I wonder whether he will?" + +Philip's white-fronted figure had appeared at this moment at the French +window leading out of the drawing-room, and his eyes, fresh from the +bright light inside, were not yet focussed to the obscurity of the dusk. +At that moment Madge found herself suddenly wishing that he would go +back again. But as soon as she was conscious she wished that, she +resolutely stifled the wish and called to him. + +"Evelyn there, too?" he asked. "Evelyn, you've got to go in and take my +place." + +"And you will take mine," said he with just a shade of discontent in his +voice. + +"No, my dear fellow," said Philip. "I shall take my own." + +He laughed. + +"I congratulate you again," he said, and left them. + +Philip stood for a moment in silence by the girl, looking at her with a +sort of shy, longing wonder. + +"Ah, what luck!" he said at length. "What stupendous and perfect luck." + +"What is luck, Philip?" she asked. + +"Why, this. You and me. Think of the chances against my meeting you in +this big world, and think of the chances against your saying 'Yes.' But +now--now that it has happened it couldn't have been otherwise." + +Some vague, nameless trouble took possession of the girl, and she +shivered slightly. + +"You are cold, my darling?" he said quickly. + +She had been leaning against the stone balustrade of the terrace, but +stood upright, close to him. + +"No, not in the least," she said. + +"What is it, then?" he asked. + +"It is nothing. Only I suppose I feel it is strange that in a moment the +whole future course of one's life is changed like this." + +He took her hands in his, and the authentic fire of love burned in his +eyes. + +"Strange?" he said. "Is it not the most wonderful of miracles? I never +knew anything so wonderful could happen. It makes all the rest of my +life seem dim. There is just this one huge beacon of light. All the rest +is in shadow." + +She raised her face to him half imploringly. + +"Oh, Philip, is it all that to you?" she asked. "I--I am afraid." + +"Because you have made me the happiest man alive?" + +A sudden, inevitable impulse of honesty prompted Madge to speak out. + +"No, but because I have perhaps meddled with great forces about which I +know nothing. I like you immensely; I have never liked anyone so much. I +esteem you and respect you. I am quite willing to lead the rest of my +life with you; I want nothing different. But will that do? Is that +enough? I have never loved as I believe you love me. I do not think it +is possible to me. There, I have told you." + +Philip raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. + +"Ah, my dearest, you give me all you have and are, and yet you say, 'Is +that enough?'" he whispered. "What more is possible?" + +She looked at him a moment, the trouble not yet quite gone from her +face. Then she raised it to his. + +"Then take it," she said. + +The night was very warm and windless, and for some time longer they +walked up and down, or stood resting against the terrace wall looking +down over the hushed woods. A nightingale, the same perhaps that had +been charmed to Tom's finger two evenings ago, poured out liquid melody, +and the moon began to rise in the East. Gradually their talk veered to +other subjects, and Madge mentioned that Evelyn was willing to do her +portrait. + +"He will begin at once," she said, "because it appears his impression of +me isn't a thing that will keep. He is putting off another order for +it." + +"That is dreadfully immoral," said Philip, "but I am delighted to hear +it." + +"Oh, and another thing. He gives it us--to you and me I think he +said--as a wedding present." + +"Ah, I can't have that," said Philip quickly. "That is Evelyn all over. +There never was such an unthinking, generous fellow. But it is quite +impossible. Why, it would mean a sixth part of his year's income." + +"I know; I felt that." + +Philip laughed rather perplexedly. + +"I really don't know what is to be done with him," he said. "Last year +he gave my mother a beautiful pearl brooch. That sort of thing is so +embarrassing. And if she had not accepted it, he would have been quite +capable of throwing it into the Thames. Indeed he threatened to do so. +And he will be equally capable of throwing his cheque into the fire." + +"All the same, I like it enormously," she said; "his impulse, I mean." + +"I know, but it offends my instincts as a man of business. I might just +as well refuse to charge interest on loans. However, I will see what I +can do." + +They went in again soon after this, for it was growing late, and found +Lady Ellington preparing to leave the table of her very complete +conquests. It had fallen to Evelyn to provide her with a no-trump hand +containing four aces, and she was disposed to be gracious. The news, +furthermore, that he would begin her daughter's portrait at once was +gratifying to her, and she was anxious that the sittings should begin at +once. As both they and he would be in town for the next month, the +matter was easily settled, and it was arranged that the thing should be +put in hand immediately. + +Philip followed Evelyn to the billiard-room as soon as the women went +upstairs, and found him alone there. + +"The Hermit has gone to commune with Nature," he said. "He will die of +natural causes if he doesn't look out. He called me a Pagan this +morning, Philip. Wasn't it rude? And the fact that it is true seems to +me to make it ruder." + +Philip lit his cigarette. + +"I'm going to be rude too, old chap," said he. "Evelyn, you really +mustn't make a present of the portrait to Madge and me. It is awfully +good of you, and just like you, but I simply couldn't accept it." + +Evelyn shrugged his shoulders. + +"Then there will be no portrait at all," he said shortly. "I tell you I +won't paint it as an order." + +Philip held out his hand. + +"I appreciate it tremendously," he said. "It is most awfully good of +you. But it's your profession. Hullo, here's the Hermit back." + +Tom Merivale entered at this moment. + +"Aren't we going to sit out to-night?" he said. + +Evelyn rose. + +"Yes, let's go out," he said. "Well, Philip, not a line will I draw +unless you take it. Or I'll give it to Miss Ellington and not you." + +"You really musn't," said Philip. + +"But don't you see I want to paint her? I said so to you only the other +day. Hang it all, I tell you that I do it for pleasure. I shall also be +the vast gainer artistically. I've got an idea about her, in fact, and +if you don't let me paint her I shall do it from memory, in which case +it will not be so good." + +An idea struck Philip. + +"Well, paint me as well," he said, "and let me pay you for that." + +Evelyn followed Tom out. + +"Oh, I can't haggle," he said. "Yes, I'll paint you if you like. But I +will paint Miss Ellington first. In fact, you shall be painted when I've +nothing else to do. Well, Hermit, seen Pan to-day?" + +"No, you scoffer," said Tom. + +"Call me when you do. I should like to see him, too. Let's see, he was a +man with goat's legs; sort of things you see in Barnum's." + +Tom shifted in his chair. + +"Some day, perhaps, you may think it serious," he said. + +"I daresay; a man with goat's legs is not to be taken lightly," said +Evelyn. "And he sits by the roadside, doesn't he, or so Browning says, +playing the pipes? What pipes, I wonder? Bagpipes, do you suppose?" + +Tom laughed; his equanimity was quite undisturbed even by chaff upon +what was to him the most serious subject in the world. + +"Ah, who was frightened at a nightingale coming to sit on my finger a +few nights ago? Evelyn, if you are not serious, I'll frighten you +again." + +"Well, but is it bagpipes?" asked he. + +Tom suddenly got grave. + +"No, it sounded more like a glass flute very far off," he said. "No +explanations are forthcoming, because I haven't got any." + +Evelyn was silent a moment. + +"And when did you hear this glass flute very far off?" he asked. + +"Two mornings ago, up above the house in that big clearing in the +woods," he answered. "I know nothing more about it. It frightened me +rather, and then it stopped." + +"What did it play?" asked Philip. + +"A world-without-end tune," he said. "The catechising is now over. I +shall go to bed, I think. I must leave to-morrow, Philip." + +"I hoped you would stop a day or two longer. Must you really go?" + +"I must, I find." + +"Appointment with Pan in the New Forest," remarked Evelyn, dodging the +cushion that was thrown at him. + +Philip had to spend the inside of the next day in London, and left with +Tom Merivale by an early train, leaving Evelyn alone with his mother, +Lady Ellington, and Madge. It came about very naturally that Lady +Ellington gravitated to Mrs. Home, and Evelyn, finishing his background +sketch in front of a great clump of purple clematis, found Madge on the +terrace when he went out, with an unopened book on her lap. + +The book had lain there, indeed, in the same state for half an hour +before he came, for Madge had been very fully occupied with her own +thoughts. She had had a talk to her mother the night before, which this +morning seemed to her to be more revealing of herself than even her own +confession to Philip in their stroll on the terrace had been. She had +told her just what she had told him, namely, that she gave him very +willingly all that she knew of herself, liking, esteem, respect, adding +out of Philip's mouth that this more than contented him. But then Lady +Ellington, for the first time perhaps for many years, had made a +strategical error, allowing her emotion, not her reason, to dictate to +her, and had said-- + +"Ah, Madge, how clever of you." + +She had seen her mistake a moment afterwards, and just a moment too +late, for Madge had asked the very simple question "Why?" And the +unsatisfactory nature of her mother's reply had given her food for +thought. + +For Lady Ellington had applauded as clever what was to her the very +rudiment of honour, and she had supposed that her mother would say "How +very stupid of you." Clearly, then, while extremely uncalculating to +herself, Madge had succeeded in giving the impression of calculation to +one who, she well knew, calculated. What, then, she asked herself, was +the secret of this love of which she was ignorant, that rendered her +confession of ignorance so satisfactory a reply? + +Effusive pleasure on her mother's part at the termination of this +recital had not consoled her. Somehow, according to Lady Ellington's +view, an almost quixotic honesty appeared clever. And it was over this +riddle that she was puzzling when Evelyn appeared, with brilliance, so +to speak, streaming from him. Brilliance certainly streamed from his +half-finished sketch, and brilliance marked his exposition of it. + +"Oh, I lead a dog's life," he said, as he planted his easel down on the +gravel. "Do you know Lady Taverner, for whom this is to be a background? +No? I congratulate you. She is pink, simply pink, like a phlox, with +butter-coloured hair, probably acquired. Well, put a pat of butter and a +phlox on a purple plate, and you will see that the phlox is pinker than +ever and the butter more buttery. Therefore, since I really am very +thorough, I make a sketch of clematis to see how the flowers really +grow, and shall plaster her with them--masses behind her, sapphires +round her neck; and a pink Jewess in the middle," he added, in a tone of +extraordinary irritation. + +Madge let her book slide to the ground. + +"Do you want to be talked to or not?" she asked. "If you don't, say so, +and I will go away." + +Evelyn looked up from his purple clematis. + +"I lead a dog's life," he said, "but sometimes somebody throws me a +bone. So throw me one." + +"You seem to growl over it," said she. + +"I know I do. That is because, though I lead a dog's life, nobody shall +take my bone from me." + +He bit the end of his brush. + +"And the filthy thing casts purple shadows upwards," he said. "At least +the sun shines on the purple, and reflects the purple on leaves that +overhang it. I wish I had been born without any sense of colour. I +should have made such ripping etchings." + +Madge had no immediate reply to this, and he painted for some ten +minutes in silence. She had picked up her book again, and read the words +of it--reading it could not be called. + +"You haven't given me many bones," said he at length. + +Madge looked up. + +"I know I haven't," she said; "but seriously I considered if I had got +anything to say, and found I hadn't. So I decided to say nothing." + +Evelyn dabbed in a purple star. + +"But surely one has always something in one's mind," he said. "One can't +help that, so why not say it? A penny for your thoughts now." + +Madge laughed. + +"No, they are worth far more. In fact, they are not in the market," she +said. + +Evelyn grew portentously grave. + +"Mrs. Gummidge," he said. + +"Oh, what do you mean?" she asked. + +"You've been thinking of the old one," said Evelyn. "Philip." + +"Quite true, I was," she said. "He is such a dear." + +"So glad you like him," muttered Evelyn, again frowning and biting his +brushes. "Lord love us, what a blue world it is this morning! There, I +can't paint any more just now." + +"That's rather sudden, isn't it?" + +"Oh, I always stop like that," said Evelyn. "I go on painting and +painting, and then suddenly somebody turns a tap off in my head, and +I've finished. I can't see any more, and I couldn't paint if I did. I +suppose the day will come when the tap will be turned permanently off. +Shortly afterwards I shall be seen to jump off Westminster Bridge. I +only hope nobody will succeed in rescuing me." + +"I will try to remember if I happen to be there," said she. + +Evelyn put his sketch to dry in the shadow of the terrace wall. + +"The law is so ridiculous," he said. "They punish you if you don't +succeed in committing suicide when you try to, and say you are +temporarily insane if you do. Whereas the bungler is probably far more +deranged than the man who does the job properly." + +"I shall never commit suicide," said Madge with conviction. + +"Ah, wait till you care about anything as much as I care about +painting," said Evelyn, "and then contemplate living without it. Why, I +should cease without it. The world would be no longer possible; it +wouldn't, so to speak, hold water." + +"Ah, do you really feel about it like that?" said she. "Tell me what +it's like, that feeling." + +Evelyn laughed. + +"You ought to know," he said, "because I imagine it's like being +permanently in love." + +Here was as random an arrow as was ever let fly; he had been unconscious +of even drawing his bow, but to his unutterable surprise it went full +and straight to its mark. The girl's face went suddenly expressionless, +as if a lamp within had been turned out, and she rose quickly, with a +half-stifled exclamation. + +"Ah, what nonsense we are talking," she said quickly. + +Evelyn looked at her in genuine distress at having unwittingly caused +her pain. + +"Why, of course we are," he said. "How people can talk sense all day +beats me. They must live at such high pressure. Personally I preserve +any precious grains of sense I may have, and put them into my pictures. +Some of my pictures simply bristle with sense." + +The startled pain had not died out of Madge's eyes, but she laughed, and +Evelyn, looking at her, gave a little staccato exclamation. + +"And what is it now?" she asked. + +"Why, you--you laughed with sad eyes. You were extraordinarily like what +my picture will be at that moment." + +The girl glanced away. That sudden, unexplained little stab of pain she +had experienced had left her nervous. Her whole nature had winced under +it, and, like a man who feels some sudden moment of internal agony for +the first time, she was frightened; she did not know what it meant. + +"I expect that is nonsense, too," she said. "At least, it is either +nonsense or very obvious, for I suppose when anyone laughs, however +fully he laughs, there is always something tragic behind. Ah, how nice +to laugh entirely just once from your hair to your heels." + +"Can't you do that ever?" asked Evelyn sympathetically. + +"No, never, nor can most people, I think. We are all haunted houses; +there is always a ghost of some kind tapping at the door or lurking in +the dusk. Only a few people have no ghosts. I should think your's were +infinitesimal. You are much to be envied." + +Evelyn listened with all his ears to this; partly because he and Madge +were already such good friends, and anything new about her was +interesting; partly because, though, as he had said, surface was enough +for him--it bore so very directly on his coming portrait of her. + +"Yes, I expect that is true," he said; "most people certainly have their +ghosts. But it is wise to wall up one's haunted room, is it not?" + +Madge shook her head. + +"Yes, but it is still there," she said. + +She got up from the low chair in which she was sitting with an air of +dismissing the subject of their talk. + +"Come, ask me some more of those very silly riddles," she said. "I think +they are admirable in laying ghosts. So, too, are you, Mr. Dundas. I am +sure you will not resent it when I say it is because you are so +frightfully silly. Ghosts cannot stand silliness." + +Evelyn laughed. + +"It is so recuperative to be silly," he said, "because it requires no +effort to a person of silly disposition, that is to say. One has to be +oneself. How easy!" + +She opened her eyes at this. + +"That means you find it easy to be natural," she said. "Why, I should +have thought that was almost the most difficult thing in the world to +be. Now a pose is easy; it is like acting; you have got to be somebody +else. But to be oneself! One has to know what one is, first of all, one +has to know what one likes." + +Evelyn laughed again. + +"Not at all. You just have to shut your eyes, take a long breath, and +begin talking. Whatever you say is you." + +The girl shook her head. + +"Ah, you don't understand," she said. "You, you, I, everybody, are +really all sorts of people put into one envelope. Am I to say what one +piece of me is prompting me to say or what another is thinking about? +And it's just the same with one's actions; one hardly ever does a thing +which every part of one wants to do; one's actions, just like one's +words, are a sort of compromise between the desires of one's different +components." + +She paused a moment, and, with a woman's quickness of intuition provided +against that which might possibly be in his mind. + +"Of course, when a big choice comes," she said, "one's whole being has +to consent. But one only has half a dozen of those in one's life, I +expect." + +She had guessed quite rightly, for the idea of her marriage had +inevitably suggested itself to Evelyn when she said "one hardly ever +does a thing which every part of one wants to do." But in the addition +she had made to her speech there was even a more direct allusion to it, +which necessarily cancelled from his mind the first impression. He was +bound, in fact, to accept her last word. But he fenced a little longer. + +"I don't see that one choice can really be considered bigger than +another," he said. "The smallest choice may have the hugest consequences +which one could never have foretold, because they are completely outside +one's own control. I may, for instance, settle to go up to London +to-morrow by the morning train or the later one. Well, that seems a +small enough choice, but supposing one train has a frightful accident? +What we can control is so infinitesimal compared to what lies outside +us--engine-drivers, bullets, anything that may kill." + +The girl shuddered slightly. + +"It is all so awful," she said, "that. An ounce of lead, a fall, and one +is extinguished. It is so illogical, too." + +"Ah, anything that happens to one's body, or mind either, is that," said +Evelyn. + +"How? Surely one is responsible for what happens to one's mind." + +"Yes, in the way of learning ancient history, if we choose, or having +drawing-lessons. But all the big things that can happen to one are +outside one's control. Love, hate, falling in love particularly is, I +imagine, completely independent of one's will." + +The girl gave a short, rather scornful laugh. + +"But one sees a determined effort to marry someone," she said, "often +productive of a very passable imitation of falling in love." + +Had she boxed his ears, Evelyn could not have been more astonished. If +this was an example of shutting the eyes; drawing a long breath and +being natural, he felt that there was after all something to be said for +the artificialities in which we are most of us wont to clothe ourselves. +There was a very Marah of bitterness in the girl's tone; he felt, too, +as if all the time she had concealed her hand, so to speak, behind her +back, and suddenly thrown a squib at him, an explosive that cracked and +jumped and jerked in a thoroughly disconcerting manner. And she read the +blankness of his face aright, and hastened to correct the impression she +had made. + +"Did you ever get behind a door when you were a child," she asked, "and +jump out calling 'Bo!'? That is what I did just then, and it was a +complete success." + +He looked at her a moment with his head on one side, as if studying an +effect. + +"But it was you who jumped out?" he asked rather pertinently. + +"Ah, I wouldn't even say that," said she. "I think it was only a +turnip-ghost that I had stuck behind the door." + +Evelyn gave a sort of triumphant shout of laughter. + +"Well, for the moment it took me in," he said. "I really thought it was +you." + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +FIFTH + + +The season in London this year had been particularly amusing; there had +been a quite unusually large number of balls, the opera had been one +perpetual coruscation of evening stars that sang together, the conduct +of May and early June from a meteorological point of view had been +impeccable, and in consequence when the world in general came back after +Whitsuntide they came for the most part with a pleasurable sense of +returning for the second act of a play of which the first had been +really enchanting. Like taking one's seat again for a play was the sense +that various unfinished situations which had been left in an interesting +stage would now move forward to their dramatic climaxes. One, +however--this was rather unfair--had developed itself to a happy close +in the country, and Madge Ellington's engagement to Philip was generally +pronounced to be very nice indeed. On both sides, indeed, it was very +nice; for it had not been seemly that a millionaire should be unmarried +so long, and on the other hand it had not been seemly that Madge should +be unmarried so long. But now they had both seen the error of their +ways, and had agreed to marry each other. + +And above all, it was very nice for Lady Ellington, about whom it was +generally known that she had made a considerable sum in speculation +lately. To do that was universally recognised as being an assured +advance towards the bankruptcy court, but to have captured a wealthy +son-in-law who was a magnate in the South African market turned her +steps, or might be hoped to turn them, away from the direction of the +courts, and point instead towards the waters of comfort and cash. +Another thing that excited to some extent the attention and applause of +the world was a certain change of demeanor in Madge, which was very +noticeable after her return to London from the Whitsuntide holiday. She +had always been rather given to put her head in the air, and appear not +to notice people; but her engagement had brought to her an added +geniality. Hitherto she had been something of "a maid on yonder mountain +height," but the shepherd, Philip Home, had, it appeared, convinced her +that "love was of the valley," and she had quite distinctly come down. +This, at any rate, was the conclusion at which Gladys Ellington, the +present Lady Ellington, arrived within two minutes of the time when she +met Madge next. + +She was of about Madge's own age, and the two, in spite of old Lady +Ellington's rooted dislike to her nephew, had always been friends. +Gladys was charmingly pretty, most successful in all she did, and +universally liked. This was only fair, for she took immense trouble to +be liked, and never did an ill-natured thing to anyone, unless it was +quite certain that she would not be found out. She had come to tea on +the afternoon succeeding Madge's return to London, and, though she +professed regrets at the absence of Madge's mother, was really delighted +to find her friend alone. She had a perfect passion for finding things +out, and her method of doing so was to talk with extreme volubility +herself, so that no one could possibly conjecture that she had any +object of the sort in her mind. But her pauses were well calculated, and +her questions few, while with regard to these, she always gave the +appearance of not attending to the answers, which further disarmed +suspicion. She was, however, a little afraid of Madge's mother, who +always gave her the idea of seeing through her. This made her volubility +a little threadbare at times, and consequently she bore her absence with +more than equanimity. + +"Darling, I think it is too charming," she was saying, "and I always +hoped that you would do just this. Mr. Home is perfectly adorable, I +think, and though it sounds horribly worldly to say so, it is an +advantage, you know, to marry a very rich man. We're as poor as mice, +you see, and so I know. Yes, please--a cup of tea, though we're told now +that a cup of tea is the most unwholesome thing in the world. And you +had a nice party? Mrs. Home, too, just like a piece of china scented +with lavender. And who else was there?" + +"Only two more men," said Madge, "Mr. Merivale and Mr. Evelyn Dundas." + +"The Hermit of the New Forest!" cried Gladys, directing her remarks to +him because she wished to hear more of the other. "How too exciting! He +lives on cherry jam and brown bread, does he not, and whistles to the +cows, who lay their heads on his shoulder and purr. I used to know him +in the old days before he was a hermit at all. And Mr. Dundas, too! Do +you like him?" + +"Yes, very much, very much indeed," said Madge gravely. "He is such a +child, you know, and he makes one laugh because he is so silly. He is +going to do my portrait, by the way; mine and Philip's." + +"How delightful! He ought to make a really wonderful thing of you, dear +Madge. Do tell me, how much does he charge? I'm dying to be painted by +him, but he is so frightfully expensive, is he not? And you liked him; +what a good thing, as you are going to sit to him. It must be awful +being painted by a man who irritates you." + +Madge laughed. + +"He doesn't irritate me in the slightest," she said. "In fact, I don't +think I ever got to know a man so quickly. I don't know how it is; +somehow he is like clear water. You can see straight to the bottom." + +Gladys regarded her rather closely as she nibbled with rather a +bird-like movement at a sugared bun. + +"Madge, you've quite changed," she said. "You are actually beginning to +take an interest in your fellow-creatures. That is so wise of you. Of +course Evelyn Dundas is adorable; I'm hopelessly in love with him +myself, but I should have thought he was just the sort of man who would +not have interested you in the least. Nor would he have a few weeks ago. +Dearest, you've stepped down from your pedestal, where you really used +to be rather a statue, you know, like Galatea, and it does improve you +so. I saw it the moment I came into the room. And just falling in love +has done it all." + +A sudden look of pain came over Madge's face, and her companion, with a +well-chosen pause, waited for her to express it in words. + +"Ah, Gladys, are you sure you are right?" she said. "Because I think I +must tell you this even as I told Philip--I don't feel as if I had +fallen in love. I like him, I esteem and respect him, but--but it isn't +what I expected. I'm not--I hate the word--but I'm not thrilled." + +Gladys rustled sympathetically, and Madge went on: + +"I had it all out with my mother, too," she said, "who very sensibly +said that as I had lived twenty-five years without falling in love in +that sort of sense, I was very unlikely to begin now. On the other hand, +she said that it was much better that I should be married than remain +single. And so I am going to marry Philip Home." + +Again Gladys rustled sympathetically, and gave a murmured "Yes," for +Madge evidently had more to say. + +"Anyhow, I have been honest with him," she said, "and I have told him +that. And he seems to think that it can easily form the basis for +happiness, and accepts it. But tell me, am I frightfully cold-blooded? +And have I any right to marry him?" + +Gladys' quick little brain had hopped over a dozen aspects of this +question, and pecked, so to speak, at a dozen different fruits, while +Madge was speaking; but with a whirr of wings she was back again, up to +time as usual. + +"No, not the least cold-blooded, and you have every right to marry him," +she said. "For you may be quite sure that you soon will be in love with +him, because I assure you that already it has made an enormous +difference in you. How do I know that? I can't possibly tell you, any +more than you can tell exactly why a person looks ill. You say her face +looks drawn. What's drawn? Why, the same as ill. You've woke up, +dearest; you've come to life. Life! there's nothing in the world so good +as that." + +Madge leaned forward, and spoke more eagerly. + +"Yes, you're right," she said, "though I don't know that your reason is +right I have somehow come to life. But it puzzles me a little to know +how it has happened, or why." + +Gladys nodded her head with an air of wisdom, and got up. At this time +of the year she seldom spent more than an hour in any one place, and +still more seldom with only one person, and both Madge and Madge's house +had now enjoyed their full share of her time. + +"Ah, I am very bad at riddles," she said, "and, besides, none of us know +'why' about anything, and, on the whole, reasons and motives matter very +little. Things that happen are so numerous and so interesting that one +has literally not time to probe into them and ask how and why. And after +all, dear, when anything so very nice has happened as your engagement, +which too has brought such a gain to you in yourself, I am more than +content, and so should you be, to accept that as it is. Now, I must +simply fly; I am dining out and going to the opera, and to a dance +afterwards. What a pity there are not forty-eight hours in every day." + +This regret was subsequently shared by Madge herself, who found that the +life of a young woman who is going to be married in six weeks' time, for +the wedding had been fixed for the end of July, implies a full +engagement book. And in addition to the ordinary calls on her time, +hours were further claimed from her by Evelyn Dundas, who apparently had +insisted to another sitter on the prior rights of this subsequent +engagement, and announced himself free to begin her portrait at once, to +give her sittings whenever she could sit, and finish it as quickly as +his powers of brush would permit him. His impetuousness, as usual, swept +away all difficulties, and before a fortnight had elapsed, Madge had +already given him four sittings, and the picture itself was beginning to +live and breathe on his canvas. + +These sittings, or rather the artist's manners and moods during them, +were strangely various. Sometimes for half-an-hour, as Madge complained, +he would do nothing but stare at her, grunting to himself, and biting +the ends of his brushes. Then in a moment all would be changed, and +instead of staring and grunting with idle hands, he would glance at her +and record, record and glance again, absorbed in the passion of his +creation, whistling sometimes gently to himself, or at other times +silent, but with a smiling mouth. Then that wind of inspiration that +bloweth where it listeth would leave him again, and he would declare +roundly that he did not know what she was like, or what his picture was +like, but that the only thing quite certain was that his picture was not +like her. Then, even while these gloomy announcements were on his lips, +even in the middle of a sentence, he would murmur to himself, "Oh, I +see," and the swish of the happy brush would alone break the silence. At +other times there was no silence to break, and from the time she stepped +up on to the platform till when she left it, he would pour out a perfect +flood of inconsequent nonsense. Or, again, the hours passed in unbroken +conversation between the two, the talk sometimes flitting like a +butterfly over all the open flowers of life, but at other times, as it +had done once or twice at Philip's house, dropping suddenly into the +heart of things, finding sometimes honey there, but sometimes shadows +only. + +A sitting of this latter kind had just come to an end, and Evelyn, after +seeing his sitter into her carriage, had returned to his studio, still +palette in hand, meaning to work for an hour at the background. +Certainly in this short space of time he had made admirable progress, +and he knew within himself that this was to be a landmark of his work, +and up to the present, at any rate, his high-water mark. He had drawn +the girl standing very upright, as was her wont, but with head a little +thrown back, and her face, eyes, and mouth alike laughed. It was a +daring conception, but the happiness of the execution was worthy of it, +and the fore-shortening of the face owing to the throw-back of the head, +the drawing, too, of the open mouth and of the half-closed eyes was a +triumph. Her figure was shown in white evening dress, with hands locked +together, carrying a feather fan, and arms at full length in front of +her; over her shoulders, half thrown back, was a scarlet opera cloak, +the one note of high colour in all the scheme. Behind her, on the wall, +he had introduced, by one of those daring feats that were labelled by +detractors as "cheeky," but by any who estimated fairly the excellence +of the execution, a round gilt-framed mirror, with a convex glass in it, +on which was distortedly reflected the room itself and the back of the +girl's figure. It was at this that he had returned to work now. + +Evelyn's studio, like all rooms much used by anyone who has at all a +vivid personality, had caught much of the character of its owner. He had +made it out of the top floor in his house in the King's Road, by +throwing all the attics into one big room. Often for a whole day he +would not stir from it till it was too dark to paint, having a tray of +lunch brought him which sometimes he would savagely devour, at other +times leave untouched till he was literally faint with hunger. It was +easy to see, too, how the room had grown, so to speak, how it had picked +up his characteristics. The big divan, for instance, in the window, +piled with brightly-coloured cushions, had evidently been of the early +furniture, a remnant of imperishable childhood; so, too, no doubt, was +the open Dutch-tiled fireplace, the Chippendale table, the few big +chairs that stood about, and the Japanese screen by the door. After +that, however, all sorts of various tastes showed themselves. A heap of +dry modelling clay in one corner recorded a fit of despair, when he had +asserted that the only real form of art was form itself, not colour; a +violin with two strings missing denoted that after hearing Sarasate he +was convinced, for several hours at least, that the music of strings was +alone the flower worth plucking, and showed also a delightful conviction +that it was never too late to learn, though the broken strings might +imply that it was now too late to mend. A set of _Punch_, complete from +the beginning, lay like a heap of morraine stones round the sofa, a bag +of rusty golf-clubs stood in a corner, and behind the Japanese screen +leaned a bicycle on which dust had collected, an evidence of its being, +for the time at any rate, out of date far as its owner was concerned. +But three months before or three months afterwards a visitor might +scarcely have recognised the room again. A portrait might have been +finished, and with disengaged eyes Evelyn would survey what he would +certainly call his pigsty. The bicycle would be sent to the cellar with +the golf clubs slung on to it, the heap of modelling clay be dumped on +the dustheap, the Japanese screen banished to the kitchen, because for +the moment Japanese art was a parody and a profanation, and the violin, +perhaps, have its strings mended. Or again, instead of the Japanese +screen being banished, Japan might have flooded the whole studio as its +armies flood Manchuria, and an equally certain and uncompromising gospel +pronounce that it alone was good. + +It was then to this temple of contradictions that Evelyn returned, three +steps to a stride, after seeing Madge off. The figure was right; he felt +sure of that, but the tone of the background somehow was not yet quite +attuned to it. Above all, the mirror must be bright burnished gold, not +dull, for the flame of the cloak, if it was the only note of high colour +in the picture, consumed itself, burned away ineffectually, and it was +with a heart that beat fast, not only from his gallop upstairs, but from +excitement in this creation that was his, that he again stood before the +picture. Yes, that was it; another high light was necessary. + +For a moment he looked at the laughing face on his canvas, almost +laughing himself. Then all on a sudden his laughter died, the need of +his picture for another high light died too, for though his eyes were +looking on his own presentment of Madge, it was Madge herself that his +soul saw. And even as his eyes loved the work of his hands, so he knew +in a burning flash of self-revelation that his soul loved her. Up till +now, up till this very moment, he had not known that this was so; that +it was possible he had long since recognised, that the possibility was +reaching its tentacles out into regions of the probable he had +recognised, so to speak, out of the corner of his eye, had recognised, +but cut it, and now came the knowledge. + +Evelyn gave a great sigh, raising his hands, one with the palette on the +thumb, the other with the brush it held, to full stretch, and let them +fall again, and stood still in front of his own inimitable portrait, +drinking in no longer with the artist's eye only, but with the eye of +the lover, the incomparable beauty of his beloved. That rush of sudden +knowledge, so impetuous, so overwhelming, for the moment drowned all +else; it did not enter his head to consider "What next?" The present +moment was so blindingly bright that everything that lay outside it was +in impenetrable shadow. The intimate relations into which he was thrown +with the girl, by reason of this portrait; the fact that she was +engaged, and that to his best friend, did not at first have any +existence in his mind; he but looked at this one fact, that he loved her +to the exclusion of all else. Then, as must always happen, came reaction +from the ecstatic moment, and in the train of reaction, like some grey +ghost, thought. But even thought for the time was gilded by the light of +that central sun, and it was long before he could frame the situation in +the bounding lines of life and conduct. For love is a force which is +impatient of opposition, and against opposition it will hurl itself, +like a wild bird against the wires of its cage, careless of whether it +is dashed to pieces, knowing only the overwhelming instinct and need of +liberty, to gain which death is but the snap of a careless finger. + +Then, almost with a laugh at himself, came that most important factor +that he had overlooked. For a couple of minutes his egoism had run away +with him, taking the bit in its teeth, and the thought that he loved +her, that he needed her, had not only been uppermost, but alone in his +mind. But what of her? She was engaged to Philip, and shortly to be +married to him, and he himself was merely to be relegated to that +somewhat populous class of "odd man out." That ebb from the full flood +of his passion was swift; it came in a moment, as swiftly as the other +had come. So that was all that was left of him, all that was possible; +that he should just stand aside while the other two went on their way, +not daring even to touch the hem of her garment, for she would most +surely draw it away from him. That clearly was the logical outcome, but +logical as it was, not a single fibre of his inmost self accepted it. +That, the one thing which to the reasonable mind must assuredly happen +was to him the one thing which could not possibly happen. The very +strength of his newly-awakened love was the insuperable bar to it; it +could not be, for what--and the question seemed to himself at that +moment perfectly unanswerable--what on earth was to happen to him in +that case? Here was the Pagan, the interesting survival, as Tom Merivale +had called him, most unmistakably surviving, shouting, as it were, that +its own happiness, its own need, was the one thing which the rest of the +world must accept and respect. And, since the only way in which due +acceptation could be secured for it was conditional on Madge's loving +him, that had to happen also. Yes, nothing else would do; she had to +love him. + +This reasoning, if one can call by so deliberate a word these leaping +conclusions, was not any act of reflecting egoism. His emotions, his +whole being, had been suddenly stirred, and there necessarily rose to +the surface the sediment, so to speak, of that which dwelt in its +depths. The whole course and habit of his past life no doubt was +responsible for what was there, but he was no more responsible at this +particular moment for the thoughts and conclusions that leaped in fire +into his mind than is a man who is suddenly startled responsible for +starting; his nerves have acted without the dictation of his brains. But +with Evelyn, as the minutes passed, and he still sat there with +heightened colour and flashing eyes, looking at his unfinished picture, +he ceased to be comparable to a suddenly startled man; the thoughts that +had sprung unbidden to his mind were not put away; they remained there, +and they grew in brightness. His conscious reflections endorsed the +first instinctive impulse. + +It so happened that he had arranged to go down that afternoon to spend a +couple of nights in the New Forest with the Hermit, but when this +engagement was again remembered by him, it seemed to him at first +impossible to go. What he had learned in this last hour was a thing so +staggering that he felt as if all the affairs of life, social +intercourse, the discussion of this subject or of that, as if any +subject but one contained even the germ or protoplasm of importance, had +become impossible. But go or stay, everything was impossible except to +win Madge's love. Then another impossibility, bigger perhaps than any, +made its appearance, for the most impossible thing of all was to be +alone, anything was more endurable than that; and side by side with that +rose another, namely, the impossibility of keeping his knowledge to +himself. He must, he felt, tell somebody, and of all people in the world +the Hermit was the person whom it would be most easy to tell. + +Then a sort of pale image of Philip came into his mind. He was conscious +of no disloyalty to him, because he was incapable of thinking of him at +all, except as of somebody, a vague somebody, who dwelt among the +shadows outside the light. Mrs. Home was no more, nobody was anything +more than a dweller in these shadows. Nor, indeed, had he been able to +think of Philip directly, concentratedly, would he have accused himself +of disloyalty; either Madge would never love himself, in which case no +harm was done to anyone, or she would do so, in which case her marriage +with Philip was an impossibility--an impossibility, too, the existence +of which had better be found out before it was legally confirmed. Yet +all this but quivered through his mind and was gone again, he caught but +as passing a glimpse of the world of life and conduct as he caught of +the stations that his train thundered through in its westerly course; +they but brushed by his inward eye, and had passed before they had ever +been focussed or seen with anything like clearness. + +The Hermit had once told him, it may be remembered, that he wanted +deepening, and Evelyn on that occasion had enunciated the general +principle that he had no use for deeps, the surface being sufficient for +his needs. And even now, though his egotism was so all-embracing, it was +in no sense whatever profound. He did not probe himself, it was of the +glittering surface alone on which shone this sun of love that he was +conscious. Deeps, perhaps, might lie beneath, but they were unexplored; +life like a pleasure boat with shallow-dipping oars went gaily across +him. Indeed it was probable that before the depth--if depths were +there--could be sounded the sun, so to speak, would have to go in, for +with that dazzle on the water it was impossible to see what lay below. + +Tom Merivale's cottage, which had begun life as two cottages, stood very +solitary some mile or two outside Brockenhurst, and though the high road +passed within a few hundred yards of it, it was impossible to conceive a +place that more partook of the essential nature of a hermitage. Between +it and the high road lay a field, with only a rough track across it; +beyond that, and nearer to the house, an orchard, while a huge +box-hedge, compact and homogeneous with the growth and careful clipping +of many years, was to any who wished to be shut off from the outer world +a bar as impenetrable as a ring of fire. Immediately beyond this stood +the cottage itself, looking away from the road; in front a strip of +garden led down to the little river Fawn, and across the river lay a +great open expanse of heath, through which, like a wedge, came down a +big triangular wood of beech-trees. It was this way, over the garden and +the open forest, that the cottage looked; not a house of any kind was in +sight, and one might watch, like a ship-wrecked mariner for a sail, for +any sign of human life, and yet in a long summer day perhaps the watcher +would see nothing to tell him that he was not alone as far as humankind +went in this woodland world. Tom had built out a long deep verandah that +ran the whole length of the cottage on the garden front; brick pillars +at the two corners supported a wooden roof, and a couple of steps led +down into the garden. Down the centre of that ran a pergola, over which +climbed in tangled luxuriance the long-limbed tribes of climbing roses. +Ramblers spilt their crimson clusters over it, or lay in streaks and +balls of white and yellow foam, while carmine pillar seemed to struggle +in their embrace, and honeysuckle cast loving tendrils round them both +and kissed them promiscuously. And though a gardener might have deplored +this untended riot of vegetation, yet even the most orderly of his +fraternity could not have failed to admire. Nature and this fruitful +soil and the warm, soft air to which frost was a stranger, had taken +matters into their own hands, and the result, though as fortuitous +apparently as the splashed glories of a sunset, had yet a sunset's +lavishness and generosity of colour. On each side of this pergola lay a +small lawn of well-tended turf, and a shrubbery on one side of lilacs +and syringa and on the other a tall brick wall with a deep garden bed +below it gave a fragrant frame to the whole. The Hermit's avowal, +indeed, that for the last year he had done nothing except carpentering +and gardening implied a good deal of the latter, for the turf, as has +been stated, was beautifully rolled and cut, and the beds showed +evidence of seed-time and weeding, and had that indefinable but +unmistakable air of being zealously cared for. But since such operations +were concerned with plants, no principle was broken. + +Evelyn arrived here soon after six, and found himself in undisturbed +possession. Mr. Merivale, so said his servant, had gone off soon after +breakfast that morning and had not yet returned. His guest, however, had +been expected, and he himself would be sure to be in before long. Indeed +in a few minutes his cry of welcome to Evelyn sounded from the lower end +of the garden, and he left his long chair in the verandah and went down +through the pergola to meet him. + +"Ah, my dear fellow," said Tom, "it is delightful to see you. You have +come from London, have you not, where there are so many people and so +few things. I have been thinking about London, and you have no idea how +remote it seems. And how is the picture getting on--Miss Ellington's, I +mean?" + +Evelyn looked at him with his direct, luminous gaze. Though he had come +down here with the object of telling his friend what had happened, he +found that at this first moment of meeting him, he was incapable of +making his tongue go on its errand. + +"Ah, the portrait," he said; "it really is getting on well. Up to this +morning, at any rate, I have put there what I have meant to put there, +and, which is rarer with me, I have not put there anything which I did +not mean. Do you see how vastly more important that is?" + +The Hermit had passed his day in the open merely in shirt and trousers, +but his coat was lying in a hammock slung between two pillars of the +pergola, and he put it on. + +"Why, of course," he said, "a thing which ought not to be there poisons +the rest; anything put in which should be left out sets the whole thing +jarring. That's exactly why I left the world you live in. There was so +much that shouldn't have been there, from my point of view at least." + +Evelyn laughed. + +"But if we all left out all that each of us thinks shouldn't be there, +there would be precious little left in the world," he said. "For +instance, I should leave out Lady Ellington without the slightest +question." + +He paused a moment. + +"And when the portrait is finished she, no doubt, would leave out me," +he added, with charming candour. + +"Quite so," said Merivale; "and since I, not being an uncontrolled +despot, could not 'leave out' people, which I suppose is a soft way of +saying terminate their existence, I went away instead to a place where +they were naturally left out, where for me their existence was +terminated. It is all part of the simplifying process." + +They had established themselves in the verandah again, where a +silent-footed man was laying the table for dinner; and it struck Evelyn +for the moment as an inconsistency that the tablecloth should be so fine +and the silver so resplendent. + +"But in your simplification," said Evelyn, indicating the table, "you +don't leave out that sort of thing." + +"No, because if I once opened the question of whether I should live on +the bare necessities of life, or allow myself, so to speak, a little +dripping on my bread, the rest of my life would be spent in settling +infinitesimal points which I really don't think much matter. I could no +doubt sell my silver and realize a few hundred pounds, and give that +away. But I don't think it matters much." + +"All the same, it is inconsistent." + +"In details that does not seem to me to matter either," said Merivale. +"For instance, I don't eat meat partly because I think that it is better +not to take life if you can avoid it. But when a midge settles on my +hand and bites me, if possible I kill it." + +"Well, anyhow your inconsistencies make up a very charming whole," said +the other, looking round. "It is all charming." + +"I'm glad, and you think you can pass a day or two here without missing +the--the complications you live among? I wish Philip could have come +down, too; but he is buried in work, it appears, and we know how his +leisure is occupied just now." + +Evelyn moved suddenly in his chair. + +"Ah, do you know, I am rather glad Philip isn't here," he said. "I don't +think----" and he broke off again. "And as soon as I've finished this +portrait, I'm going to do his," he added. + +He was silent a moment, feeling somehow that he never would do Philip's +portrait. He would not be able to see him, he would not be able to paint +him; something, no shadow, but something so bright would stand between +him and the canvas that he would be unable to see beyond or through it. + +But Merivale did not seem to notice the check. His eyes were looking out +over the glowing garden, where all colours were turned to flame in the +almost level rays of the sun as it drew near to its setting. The wall +behind the deep garden bed glowed as if the bricks themselves were +luminous, light seemed to exude from the grass, the flowers were bells +and cups of fire. + +"Ah, this is the best moment of all the day," he said, "when sunset +comes like this. The whole of the sunshine of the hours seem distilled +into it, it is the very essence of light." + +He rose from his chair, and went to the edge of the verandah, stretching +his arms wide and breathing deeply of the warm, fragrant air. Then he +turned again to his companion. + +"That, too, I hope is what death will be like," he said. "All the +sunlight of life will be concentrated into that moment, until one's mere +body can hold no more of the glow that impregnates it, and is shattered. +Look at those clusters of rambler; a little more and they must burst +with the colour." + +Evelyn got up too. + +"Don't be so uncomfortable, Tom," he cried, in a sort of boyish +petulance. "I could go mad when I think of death. It is horrible, +frightening. I don't want to die, and I don't want to get old. I want to +be young always, to feel as I feel to-day, and never a jot less keenly. +That's what you must tell me while I am here; how am I to remain young? +You seem to have solved it; you are much younger than when I knew you +first." + +Tom laughed. + +"And another proof of my youth is that I feel as I do about death," he +said. "The more you are conscious of your own life, the more absurd the +notion that one can die becomes. Why, even one's body won't die; it +will make life, it will be grass on one's grave, just as the dead leaves +that fall from the tree make the leaf-mould which feeds that tree or +another tree or the grass. It doesn't in the least matter which, it is +all one, it is all life." + +Evelyn shivered slightly. + +"Yes, quite true, and not the least consoling," he said; "for what is +the use of being alive if one loses one's individuality? It doesn't make +death the least less terrible to me, even if I know that I am going to +become a piece of groundsel and be pecked at by your canary. I don't +want to be groundsel, I don't want to be pecked at, and I don't want to +become your canary. Great heavens, fancy being a bit of a canary!" + +"Ah, but only your body," said the other. + +Evelyn got up. + +"Yes, and what happens to the rest? You tell me that a piece of me, for +my body is a piece of me, becomes a canary, and you don't know about the +rest. Indeed it is not a cheerful prospect. If some--some bird pecks my +eyes out, is it a consolation to me, who becomes blind, to learn that a +bird has had dinner?" + +Merivale looked at him; even as Gladys had seen that some change had +come in Madge, so he saw that something had happened to Evelyn, and he +registered that impression in his mind. But the change, whatever it was, +was not permanent--it was a phase, a mood only, for next moment Evelyn +had broken out into a perfectly natural laugh. + +"You shan't make me think of melancholy subjects any more," he cried. +"Indeed you may try, but you won't be able to do it. I have never been +more full of the joy of life than to-day. That was why I was so glad to +come down here, as you are a sort of apostle of joy. But it's true that +I also want to talk to you some time about something quite serious. Not +now though, but after dinner. Also you will have to show me all the bag +of conjuring tricks, the mechanical nightingale, the disappearing +omelette--I could do that, by the way--and the Pan pipes. Now, I'm going +upstairs to change; I've got London things on, and my artistic eye is +offended. Where shall I find you?" + +"I shall go down to bathe. Won't you come?" said Merivale. + +Evelyn wrinkled up his nose. + +"No, I've not been hot enough. Besides, one is inferior to the frog in +the water, which is humiliating. Any frog swims so much better!" + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +SIXTH + + +Merivale had scooped out a long bathing-pool at the bottom of the +garden, and when Evelyn left him, he took his towel and walked down to +it. A little higher up was a weir, and from this he plunged into a soda +water of vivifying bubble, and floated down as the woven ropes of water +willed to take him till he grounded on the beds of yellow, shining +gravel at the tail of the pool, laughing with joy at the cool touch of +the stream. The day had been very hot, and since breakfast he had been +on the move, now under the shadow of the trees, but as often as not +grilled by the great blaze of the sun on the open heaths, and it was +with an extraordinary sense of renewed life and of kinship with this +beautiful creature that was poured from the weir in never-ending volumes +that he gave himself up to the clean, sensuous thrill of the moment. It +seemed to him that the strong flood that bore him, with waves and eddies +just tipped with the gold and crimson of the sun, entirely +interpenetrated and possessed him. He was not more himself than was the +stream, the stream was not more itself than it was he. The blue vault +overhead with its fleeces of cloud beginning to flush rosily was part of +the same thing, the beech-trees with leaves a-quiver in the evening +breeze were but a hand or an eyebrow of himself. + +Then, with the briskness of his renewed vigour, he set himself to swim +against this piece of himself, as if right hand should wrestle with +left, breasting the river with vigorous strokes, yet scarcely moving +against the press of the running stream, while like a frill the water +stood up bubbling round his neck. Then again, with limbs deliciously +tired with the struggle, he turned on his back and floated down again, +with arms widespread, to increase the surface of contact. Though this +sense of unity with the life of Nature was never absent from him, so +that it was his last waking thought at night and stood by him while he +slept, ready to awake him again, water somehow, live, running water +with the sun on its surface, or the rain beating on to it, with its +lucent depths and waving water-weeds that the current combed, gave it +him more than anything else. Nothing else had quite that certainty of +everlasting life about it; it was continually outpoured, yet not +diminished; it mingled with the sea, and sprang to heaven in all the +forms and iridescent colours of mist and cloud, to return again to the +earth in the rain that made the grass to grow and fed the springs. And +this envelopment of himself in it was a sort of outward symbol of his +own absorption in Nature, the outward and visible sign of it. Every day +the mystery and the wonder of it all increased; all cleansing, all +renewal was contained here, for even as the water cleansed and renewed +him, so through the countless ages it cleansed and renewed itself. And +here alone the intermediary step, death, out of which came new life, was +omitted. To water there was no death; it was eternally young, and the +ages brought no abatement of its vigour. + +Then in the bright twilight of the sun just set he dressed and walked +back to the house to find that he had been nearly an hour gone, and that +it was close on dinner-time. + +During the earlier part, anyhow, of that meal Evelyn showed no return of +his disquietude, but, as was his wont, poured out floods of surprising +stuff. He talked shop quite unashamed, and this evening the drawbacks of +an artist's life supplied his text. + +"Yes, everyone is for ever insisting," he said, "that the artist's life +is its own reward, because his work is creative; but there are times +when I would sooner be the man who puts bristles in toothbrushes. Those +folk don't allow for the days when you sit in front of a blank canvas, +or a canvas half-finished, and look at it in an absolute stupor of +helplessness. I suppose they would say 'Go on, put down what you see,' +and they are so wooden-headed as not to realise that on such occasions, +unfortunately numerous, one doesn't see anything, and one couldn't put +it down if one did. There is a blank wall in front of one. And it is +then I say with Mr. Micawber, 'No one is without a friend who is +possessed of shaving materials'--yet I don't kill myself. Oh, hang it, +here we are talking about death again! Give me some more fish." + +Merivale performed this hospitable duty. + +"Ah, but what do you expect?" he asked. "Surely you can't think it's +possible that a man can live all the time in the full blaze of +imaginative vision? You might as well expect him to run at full speed +from the day he was born to the day of his--well, all the time, as you +dislike the word." + +Evelyn drummed the table with his fingers. + +"But it's just that I want," he cried. "Whose fault is it that I can't +do what I feel is inside me all the time? If I have what you call the +imaginative vision at all, who has got any business to put a cap like +the cap of a camera lens over it, so that I can see nothing whatever? +Oh, the pity of it! Sitters, too! Sitters can be so antipathetic that I +feel when I look at them that the imaginative vision is oozing out of +me, like sawdust when you clip a doll's leg, and that in another moment +I shall be just a heap of collapsed rags on the floor, with a silly +waxen head and shoulders on the top. If only people would come to me to +paint their caricatures I could do some rippers. The next woman I've got +to paint when these two are finished is a pink young thing of sixty, +with a face that has exactly the expression of a pansy. Lord! Lord!" + +This was so completely the normal Evelyn Dundas that Merivale, if not +reassured, for there was no need for that, at any rate thought that he +had been mistaken in his idea that some change had come to him. He was +just the same vivid, eager boy that he had always been, blessed with one +supreme talent, which, vampire-like, seemed to suck the blood out of all +the other possibilities and dormant energies of his nature, and suck, +too, all sense of responsibility from him. + +"Refuse them then," he said; "say 'I won't paint you; you sap my +faculties.'" + +Evelyn burst out into a great shout of laughter. + +"'Mr. Dundas presents his compliments to Lady What's-hername,'" he said, +"'and regrets, on inspection, that he is unable to paint her portrait, +owing to the fact that a prolonged contemplation of her charms would sap +his artistic powers, which he feels himself unwilling to part with.' +What would be this rising young painter's position in a year's time, eh? +His studio would be as empty as the New Forest. You might then come and +live there, Tom." + +Evelyn finished his wine and lit a cigarette all in one breath. + +"Now, strange though it may seem to you," he said, "I feel that I've +talked enough about myself for the moment, though I propose to go on +afterwards. So, by way of transition, we will talk about you. As I +dressed a number of frightful posers came into my head about you, and I +want categorical answers. Now you've been here how long? More than a +year, isn't it? What can you show for it? Number two: What's it all +about? Number three: How can you call yourself a student of Nature when +you deliberately shut your eyes to all the suffering, all the death, all +the sacrifice that goes on eternally in Nature? I might as well call +myself an artist and refuse to use blue and red in my pictures. I +remember asking you something of this sort before, and your answer was +eminently unsatisfactory. Besides, I have forgotten it." + +Merivale moved sideways to the table, and crossed one leg over the +other. + +"Does it really at all interest you?" he said. + +"It does, or I should not ask. Another thing, too: I have been looking +at you all dinner, and I could swear you look much younger than you did +five years ago. Indeed, if I saw you now for the first time I should say +you were not much more than twenty. Also you used to be a touchy, +irritable sort of devil, and you look now as if nothing in the world had +the power to make you cease smiling. Did you know, by the way, that you +are always smiling a little?" + +Tom laughed. + +"No, not consciously," he said; "but now you mention it, it seems +impossible that I should not." + +"Well, begin," said Evelyn, with his usual impatience. "Tell me all +about it, and attempt to answer all those very pertinent questions. +Smoke, too; I listen better to a person who is smoking, because I feel +that he is more comfortable." + +A sudden wind stirred in the garden, blowing towards them in the +verandah the sleeping fragrance of the beds and the wandering noises of +the night, which, all together make up what we call the silence of the +night, even as the mixture of primary colours makes white. + +"Smoke? No, I don't smoke now," said Merivale; "but if you really want +to know, I will tell you all I can tell you. The conjuring tricks, as +you call them, I suppose you will take for granted?" + +Evelyn, comfortable with his coffee and liqueur, assented. + +"Yes, leave them out," he said. "Here beginneth the gospel." + +He tried in these words to be slightly offensive; the offensiveness, +however, went wide of the mark, and he was sorry. For the Hermit, as he +had known him in the world, was singularly liable to take offence, to be +irritable, impatient, to be stamping and speechifying on an extremely +human platform. But no vibration of any such impatience was in +Merivale's voice, and in his words there was no backhander to answer it. +So the gospel began. + +"It is all so simple," he said, "yet I suppose that to complicated +people simplicity is as difficult to understand as is complexity to +simple people. But here it is, anyhow, and make the best or the worst of +it; that is entirely your concern." + +"There is God," he said, "there is also Nature, which I take to be the +visible, tangible, audible expression of Him. There is also man--of +which you and I are specimens, and whether we are above or below the +average doesn't matter in the least--and man by a dreadful process +called civilisation has worked himself back into a correspondingly +dreadful condition. If he were either fish, flesh, or fowl one would +know where to put him, but he is none of those. He seems, at any rate to +me, to be a peculiar product of his own making, and instead of being a +creature compounded of life and joy, which should be his ingredients and +also his study, he has become a creature who is mated with sorrow and at +the end with death. He has become rotten without ever being ripe, the +flower to which he should have attained has been cankered in the bud. +Now, all this it has been my deliberate aim to leave behind me and to +forget, and to go straight back to that huge expression of the joy of +God, which man has been unable to spoil or render sorrowful, to the +great hymn of Nature. Listen to that for a moment--and for the more +moments you listen to it the more unmistakable will its tenour be--and +you will hear that the whole impression is one of life and of joy. There +is, it is true, throughout Nature the sound of death, of cruelty, and of +one creature preying on another; but the net result is not death, it is +ever-increasing life. And so when I went to Nature I shut my ears and +eyes to that minor undercurrent of sound. Of the result I was sure; day +after day there is more life in the world, in spite of the death that +day after day goes on. All the death goes to form fresh life. In the +same way with the joy and sorrow of Nature; for every animal that +suffers there are two that are glad, for every tree that dies there are +two in the full vigour of the joy of life. And that joy and that life is +my constant study. I soak myself in it, and shall so do until I am +utterly impregnated with it. And when that day comes, when there is no +tiny or obscure fibre in my being that does not completely realise it, +then, with a flash of revelation, so I take it, I shall 'grasp the +scheme of things entire.' Whether by life or by death, I shall truly +realise that I and that moth flitting by, and the odours of the garden +and the river are indivisibly one, just an expression of the spirit of +life, which is God." + +He paused a moment. + +"There were two other questions you asked me," he said. "What have I got +to show for the years I have spent here? I shrug my shoulders at that; +it is I who am being shown. The second concerns my personal appearance, +for you say I look younger. That is probably quite true and quite +inevitable, for the contemplation of the eternal youth of the world I +suppose must make one younger, body and soul alike. And that is all, I +think." + +Evelyn was listening with extreme attention; he did not look in the +least uninterested. + +"My word, you've got a perfectly sober plan at the bottom of it all," he +said, "and I thought half of it was moonshine and the other half +imagination. There is one more question--two more. What if the whole of +the suffering and the cruelty and the death in Nature is made clear to +you in a flash, if it is that which will come to make you grasp the +scheme of things entire?" + +Merivale smiled still, rocking forward in his chair with his hands +clasped round his knee. + +"That is possible," he said, "and I recognise that. But I don't think I +am frightened at it If it is to be so, it is to be so. Though I suppose +one won't live after it. Well?" + +"And the second question. You think, then, it is our duty to seek +happiness and joy and forget the sorrow of the world?" + +"I think it is so for me," said he, "though I do think that there are +many people, most, I suppose, that realise themselves through sorrow and +suffering. I can only say that I believe I am not one of those. The way +does not lie for me there." + +Evelyn got up, and stood leaning on the balustrade of the verandah. This +was beginning to touch him more closely now; his own threads were +beginning to interweave in the scheme Merivale drew. + +"And for me," he said. "What is your diagnosis of me? Am I one of those +who will find themselves through sorrow or through joy?" + +Merivale turned to him with almost the same eagerness in his face as +Evelyn himself showed. + +"Ah, how can I tell you that?" he said, "beyond telling you at least +that in my opinion, which after all is only my opinion, it is in joy +that you, almost above everyone I know, will ripen and bear fruit. +Sorrow, asceticism is the road by which some approach happiness, but I +do not see you on that road. Renunciation for you----" + +Evelyn got up and came a step closer. + +"Yes? Yes?" he cried. + +Merivale answered him by another question. + +"Something has happened to you," he said. "What is it?" + +"I have fallen in love," said the other. "I only knew it to-day. Yes, +her, Madge Ellington. Good God, man, I love her! And I am painting +her--I see her nearly daily alone; it is my business to study her face +and get to know her----" + +His voice dropped suddenly. + +"What am I to do?" he said after a moment. "Philip, the whole thing----" + +"Ah, you can't go on," said Merivale quickly. "You must see that. +Wherever our paths lie, there is honour----" + +"Honour?" cried Evelyn almost savagely. "Have I not as good a right to +love her as Philip has? You can't tie one down like that! Besides, how +can I help loving her? Night and day are not less in my control. +Besides, I have no reason to suppose that she loves me, so what harm is +done? But if she does or should----" + +Again he stopped, for there was no need to go on; the conclusion of the +sentence was not less clear because it was unspoken. After a moment he +continued. + +"And what was your view just now about renunciation for me?" he asked. + +Merivale got up. + +"I don't know what to say to you," he said. "What do you propose, you +yourself?" + +"I propose to tell her what I know--that I love her," said he. + +There was a long pause; Merivale was looking out over the dusky garden, +and his lips moved as if he was trying to frame some sentence, yet no +words came. In the East the moon was soon to rise behind the wedge of +beech-wood which came diagonally across the heath, and though it was not +yet visible, the sky was changing from the dark velvet blue which had +succeeded sunset to the mysterious dove colour which heralds the moon. A +night breeze stirred among the shrubs, and the scent of the stocks was +wafted into the verandah, twined, as it were, with the swooning +fragrance of the syringa. But for once Merivale was unconscious of the +witchery of the hour; in spite of himself, the interests, the problems, +the suffering and renunciation of human life, from which he had thought +he had weaned himself, claimed him again. He had tried, and in great +measure succeeded, in detaching himself from them, but he had not +completely broken away from them yet. He had enlisted under the banner +of joy, but now from the opposing hosts there came a cry to him, and he +could not shut his ears to it. Here was the necessity for suffering, it +could not but be that of these two friends of his, suffering poignant +and cruel lay before one of them, though which that one should be he did +not know. But the necessity was dragged before his notice. + +Then from the garden his eyes rested on Evelyn again, as he stood close +to him with his keen, beautiful face, his eyes in which burned the +wonder of his love, his long, slim limbs and hands that trembled, all so +astonishingly alive, and all so instinct with the raptures and the +rewards of living, and he could not say "Your duty lies here," even had +he been certain that it was so, so grey and toneless, so utterly at +variance with the whole gospel of his own life would the advice have +been. Yet neither, for his detachment from human affairs was not, nor +could it be, complete, could he say to him "Yes, all the joy you can lay +hands on is yours," for on the other side stood Philip. But his +sympathies were not there. + +He spread out his hands with a sort of hopeless gesture. + +"I don't know what to say: I don't even know what I think," he said. "It +is one of those things that is without solution, or rather there are two +solutions, both of which are inevitably right, and utterly opposed. But +you have as yet no reason to think that she loves you; all goes to show +otherwise." + +"Yes, all," said Evelyn softly, "but somehow I don't believe it. I can't +help that either." + +Then suddenly he took hold of Merivale's shoulders with both hands. + +"Ah, you don't understand," he said. "You were saying just now that you +and the river were indivisibly one. That is a mere figure of speech, +though I understand what you mean by it. But with me it is sober truth; +I am Madge. I have no existence apart from her. Some door has been +opened, I have passed through it into her. Half oneself! Someone says +man alone is only half himself. What nonsense! Till he loves he is +complete in himself, but then he ceases to be himself at all." + +Wild as were his words, so utterly was he in the grip of his +newly-awakened passion that possessed him, there was something +convincing to Merivale about it. He might as well have tied a piece of +string across a line to stop a runaway locomotive as hope to influence +Evelyn by words or advice, especially since he at heart pulled in the +opposite way to the advice he might thus give. The matter was beyond +control; it must work itself out to its inevitable end. + +"And when will you tell her?" he asked. + +"I don't know. The moment I see she loves me, if that moment comes." + +"And if it does not?" + +Again his passion shook him like some great wave combing the weeds of +the sea. + +"It must," he said. + +That clearly was the last word on the subject, and even as he spoke the +rim of the moon a week from full topped the beech-wood, and flooded the +garden with silver, and both watched in silence till the three-quarter +circle swung clear of the trees. Just a month ago Evelyn had watched it +rising with Madge on the terrace of Philip's house, and the sight of it +now made the last month pass in review before him like some scene that +moved behind the actors, as in the first act in _Parsifal_. The light it +shed to-day seemed to flash back and illumine the whole of those weeks, +and showed him how in darkness that plant had grown which to-day had +flowered rose-coloured and perfect. Every day since then, when the seed +had first been planted in his soul, had it shot up towards the light; +there had been no day, so he felt now, on which the growth had stood +still; it had been uninterrupted from the first germination to this its +full flower. But the last word had been spoken, and when the moon had +cleared the tree-tops, Merivale turned to him. + +"I seldom sleep in the house," he said, "and I certainly shall not +to-night." + +"Where then?" asked the other. + +"Oh, anywhere, often in several places. In fact, I seldom wake in the +morning where I go to bed in the evening." + +"Sleep-walking?" suggested Evelyn. + +"Oh, dear no! But you know all animals wake in the night and turn over, +or get up for a few moments and take a mouthful of grass. Well, the same +thing happens to me. I always wake about three in the morning, and walk +about a little, and, as I say, usually go to sleep again somewhere else. +But I suppose the dignity of man asserts itself, and I often go further +than animals. For instance, I shall probably go to sleep in the hammock +in the garden, and walk up into the beech-wood when I wake for the first +time." + +"Ah, that does sound rather nice," said Evelyn appreciatively. + +"Well, come and sleep out too. It will do you all the good in the world. +You can have the hammock; I'll lie on the grass. I always have a rug." + +But Evelyn's appreciation was not of the practical sort. + +"Heaven forbid!" he said. "My bedroom is good enough for me." + +It was already late, and he took a candle and went upstairs, Merivale +following him to see he had all he wanted. His servant, however, had +arranged the utmost requirements in the most convenient way, and the +sight suddenly suggested a new criticism to Evelyn. + +"Keeping a servant, too," he said. "Is not that frightfully +inconsistent?" + +Merivale laughed. + +"You don't suppose I keep a servant when I am alone?" he asked. "But I +find I am so bad at looking after the requirements of my guests that I +hire one if anyone happens to be here. He is a man from the hotel at +Brockenhurst." + +"I apologise," said the other. "But do dismiss him to-morrow. For I +didn't want to come to an hotel; I wanted to see how the Hermit really +lived." + +"Stop over to-morrow then, and you will see," said Merivale. "But I keep +a woman in the house, who cooks." + +"That also is inconsistent." + +"No, I don't think so. It takes longer than you would imagine to do all +the housework yourself. I tried it last winter and found it not worth +while. Besides, dusting and cleaning are so absorbing. I could think of +nothing else." + +"But doesn't she find it absorbing?" + +Merivale laughed. + +"I feel sure she doesn't," he said, "or she would do it better. But when +I dusted for myself, nothing short of perfection would content me. I was +dusting all day long." + +Evelyn looked doubtfully at his bed. + +"Shall I have to make it--whatever 'making' means?" he asked, "if I +sleep in it? If so, I really don't think it would be worth while. +Besides, I know I shan't sleep, and if I don't sleep I am a wreck." + +Merivale raised his eyebrows. + +"Surely you sleep when you want sleep just as you eat when you are +hungry," he said, "or is that an exploded superstition?" + +"Quite exploded. I shan't sleep a wink," said Evelyn, beginning to +undress. "Oh, how can I?" he cried. + +"And you really want to?" + +"Why, of course. I'm as cross as two sticks if I don't." + +Merivale shook his head. + +"I'll make you sleep if you wish," he said. "Get into bed. I must go and +turn out the lights. I'll be back in two minutes." + +He left the room, and Evelyn undressed quickly. + +All that had happened to-day ran like a mill-race in his head, and, +arguing from previous experience, he knew perhaps the tithe of what +awaited him when the light was out. For often before, when a picture, +not as now the original of it, occupied him, misshapen parodies of rest +had been his till cock-crow. First of all would come a sense of +satisfaction at being alone, at being able to let his thoughts take +their natural course uninterrupted; he would feast his eyes on the +untenanted blackness, letting his imagination paint there all that it +had been so intensely occupied with during the day. But then as the +brain wearied, in place of the ideal he had been striving for would come +distorted reflections of it, seen as if in some bloated mirror, and +still awake he would see his thoughts translated into some horrible +grotesque that would startle him into sitting-up in bed, just for the +grasping of the bed-post, or the feeling of the wall, to bring himself +back into the realm of concrete things. Otherwise the grotesques would +grow into dancing, shapeless horrors, and in a moment he would have to +wrench himself free from the clutches of nightmare and start up, with +dripping brow and quivering throat that could not scream, into reality +again. But to-night he feared no nightmare; he knew simply that sleep +could not come to him, his excitement had invaded and conquered the +drowsy lands, and though he felt now that he would be content to think +and think and love till morning, morning, he knew, would, like an +obsequious waiter, present the bill for the sleepless night. +Consequently, when Merivale again entered, he welcomed him. + +"I demand a conjuring-trick," he said, "I know I shan't sleep at all, +unless you have some charm for me. Good God, how can I sleep? And, after +all, why should I want to? Isn't waking good enough?" + +Merivale paused; waking and sleeping seemed to him no more matters for +concern than they seem to an animal which sleeps when it is sleepy, and +wakes when its sleepiness has gone. + +"That is entirely for you to settle," he said. "If you want to sleep I +can make you; if you don't, I shall go to sleep myself. I shall do that +in any case," he added. + +Evelyn was already overwrought with the events of the day, and he spoke +petulantly. + +"Oh, make me sleep, then!" he said. "There is to-morrow coming. I can +do nothing to-night, so let's get it over." + +"Lie down, then," said the Hermit, "and look at me, look at my eyes, I +mean." + +He sat down on the edge of Evelyn's bed, and spoke low and slow. + +"The wind is asleep," he said, "it sleeps among the trees of the forest, +for the time of sleep has come, and everything sleeps, your love sleeps +too. Lie still;" he said, as Evelyn moved, "the trees of the forest +sleep; and their leaves sleep, and high in the branches the birds sleep. +Everything sleeps, the tired even and the weary sleep, and those who are +strong sleep, and those who are weak." + +Evelyn's eyelids quivered, shut a moment, then half-opened again. + +"The flowers sleep," said Merivale, "and the eyelids of their petals are +closed, as your eyelids are closing. Sleep, the black soft wing, has +shut over them, as the wings of birds shut over their heads. The earth +sleeps, the very stones of her sleep; she will not stir till morning, or +if she stirs it will be but to sleep again. The sad and the happy sleep, +the very sea sleeps and is hushed, and the tides of the sea are asleep. +Sleep, too," he said, slightly raising his voice, "sleep till they +wake--sleep till I wake you." + +He waited a moment, but Evelyn's eyelids did not even quiver again. Then +he blew out the light and left the room. + +Merivale stepped softly down the stairs, and went out on to the +verandah, where they had dined a few hours before. At the touch of the +soft night-air all the trouble that during this evening had been his was +evaporated and vanished. The sum of his consciousness was contained in +the bracket, that he was alive, and that he was part of life. It was +like stepping into an ocean that received him and bore him on its +surface, or took him to its depths; which mattered not at all--the thing +embraced and encompassed him. He went back again to it from the fretful +trivialities that had arrested him as the midge on his wrist could for +the moment arrest him, trivially and momentarily causing him some +infinitesimal annoyance. But that was over; the huge sky was above him, +the world was asleep, and was his possession. It--the material part of +it--was but a dream, the spirit of it all suffused him. There was life +everywhere, life in its myriad forms, its myriad beauties. The sleepy +voice of the river was part of him, the moon was he, the utmost twinkle +of a star was he also. Yet no less the smallest blade of grass was he; +there was no atom of the universe with which he did not claim identity. + +Yes, there was one, the fretting of the human spirit, whereas his own +did not fret. What he could interpret existence into was to him +satisfying. For himself he longed and wished for nothing, except to hold +himself open, as he indeed held himself, for the moods of Nature to play +upon. Yet in that bedroom upstairs he had left one, asleep indeed by the +mere exercise of a stronger will on his, who would to-morrow awake and +combat and perhaps succumb to forces that were stronger than he. For +himself, he combatted with no force; he but yielded in welcome to what +to him was irresistible. But Evelyn, who slept now, would awake to try +his strength against another. Which was right? + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +SEVENTH + + +Gladys Ellington, as has been remarked, was not in the least +ill-natured, and never even hinted ill-natured things against anybody +unless she was certain to be undiscovered. So, as all the world knew, +since she was not "quite devoted," a phrase of her's, to her +mother-in-law, the merest elements of wisdom demanded of her that she +should be unreserved in her commendation of Madge's engagement. +Unreserved, in consequence, she was, even to her own husband. He also +was quite unreserved, but his unreserve was whiskered and red-faced like +himself, and bore not the slightest resemblance to his wife's voluble +raptures. + +"Seems to me," he said, "that Madge has married him for his money. Don't +believe she loves him. Cold-blooded fish like that. Don't tell me. Hate +a girl marrying for money. American and so on. Good love match, like you +and me, Gladys. I hadn't a sou, you hadn't a penny. Same sort of thing, +eh?" + +Lord Ellington usually ended his sentences with "Eh?" If he did not end +them with "Eh?" he ended them with "What?" The effect in either case was +the same, for, like Pilate, he did not wait for an answer. "Eh" or +"what," in fact, meant that he had not finished; if he had finished, he +ended up his period with "Don't tell me." As a consequence, perhaps, +nobody told him anything. All worked together for good here, because he +would not have understood it if they had. He was fond of his wife, and +slightly fonder of his dinner. Why she had married him was a mystery; +but there are so many mysteries of this kind that it is best to leave +them alone. + +Gladys, on this occasion (a speech which had given rise to his, in so +far as any speech or connected thought would account for what Lord +Ellington would say next), had merely remarked that the engagement was +very, very nice. + +"You seem to object to him," she said, "because he is rich. That is very +feeble. I never knew riches to be a bar to anything except the kingdom +of heaven, with which you, Ellington, are not immediately concerned. But +you are much more immediately concerned with South African mines. Now, +he is dining here to-night, and so is Madge. If you can't get something +out of him between the time we leave the room and you join us, I really +shall despair of you." + +A heavy, jocular look came into Lord Ellington's face. + +"You don't despair of me yet, Gladys?" he said. + +"No, not quite. Very nearly, but not quite. Oh, Ellington, do wake up +for once to-night! Philip Home moves a finger in that dreadful office of +his in the City, somewhere E.C., and you and I are beggars, even worse +than now, or comparatively opulent. Ask him which finger he moves. If +only I were you, I could do it in two minutes. So I'll allow you ten. +Not more than that, because we've got the Reeves' box at the opera, and +Melba is singing." + +"Lot of squawking," said he. "Why not sit at home? Who wants to hear +squawking? All in Italian too. Don't understand a word, nor do you. And +you don't know one note from another, nor do I. Don't tell me." + +Gladys required all her tact, which is the polite word for evasion, +sometimes, in getting her way with her husband, and all her diplomacy, +which is the polite word for lying. If he got a notion into his head it +required something like the Lisbon earthquake to get it out; if, on the +other hand, a thing commoner with him, he had not a notion in his head, +it required a flash of lightning, followed by the steady application of +a steam-hammer to get it in. Also in talking to him it was almost as +difficult to concentrate one's own attention as it was to command his, +for the fact that he was being talked to produced in him, unless he was +dining, an irresistible tendency to make a quarter-deck of the room he +was in, up and down which he shuffled. When this became intolerable, +Gladys told him not to quarter-deck, but this she only did as a last +resort, because he attended rather more when he was quarter-decking than +when not. + +"Never mind about the opera then," she said, "you needn't go unless you +like. But what is important is that since Madge is going to marry Philip +Home, we should reap all the advantages we can. Perhaps there is only +one, apart from having another very comfortable house to stay in, but +that is a big one. He can make some money for us." + +This was only the second time she had mentioned this, and in consequence +she was rather agreeably surprised to find that her husband grasped it. +He even appeared to think about it, and suggested an amendment, though +the process required, it seemed to Gladys, miles of quarter-decking. + +"Eh, what?" he said. "Something South African? Put in twopence and get +out fourpence, with a dividend in the interim? By Gad, yes! But you'd +better get it out of him, Gladys, not I. Lovely woman, you know; a man +tells everything to lovely woman. Don't tell me." + +This had never occurred to Gladys, and she always respected anyone to +whom things occurred before they occurred to her. + +"How very simple," she said, "and much better than my suggestion. I +suppose it was so simple that it never occurred to me." + +Ellington chuckled, and as the conversation was over, sat down again to +read the evening paper, which had just come in. He read the morning +paper all the morning, and talked of it at lunch, and the evening paper +all evening, and talked of it at dinner; these two supplied him with his +mental daily bread. All the same, he never seemed well-informed even +about current events; he managed somehow to miss the point of all the +news he read, and could never distinguish between Kuroki and Kuropatkin. + +Three days had passed since Madge had had her last sitting for her +portrait, and those three days had passed for her in a sort of dream of +disquietude which was not wholly pain. She had not seen Evelyn since, +and scarcely Philip, for he had been harder worked than usual, and last +night, when he was to have dined with them, had sent word that he could +not possibly get there in time. They were to go to the theatre +afterwards, and he said he would join them there. She had upbraided him +laughingly for his desertion of them, telling him that he put the +pleasure of business higher than the pleasure of her society. For retort +he had the fact that when he was not at work he was never anywhere else +but in her society, whereas two days ago, when he was free one morning, +she refused to ride with him because she was to give a sitting to +Evelyn. But the moment he had said this he was sorry for it, for Madge +had flushed, and turned from him, biting her lip. But though he was +sorry for the undesigned pain he had apparently given her, his heart +could not but sing to him. She could not bear such a word from him even +in jest. + +But this had not been the cause of Madge's disquietude; Philip's remark +indeed had, so far as it alone was concerned, gone in at one ear but to +come out at the other. In its passage through it had touched something +that made her wince with sudden pain. But the pain passed, and a warmth, +a glow of some secret kind, remained. Disquieting it was, but not +painful, except that at intervals a sort of pity and remorse would stab +her, and at other times her heart, like Philip's, could not but sing to +her for the splendour of love which was beginning to dawn. She could not +help that dawn coming, and she could not help glorying in its light. + +Of what should be the practical issue she did not at once think. It was +but three weeks ago that she had promised to marry Philip, and then her +honesty had made her tell him that she gave him liking, esteem, +affection, all that she was conscious that it was in her power to give. +And now, when she knew that she was possessed of more than these, and +that the new possession was not hers to give him, a long day of +indecision, this day on which in the evening they were to dine together +with Gladys Ellington, had been hers. But gradually, slowly, with +painful gropings after light, she had made up her mind. + +She had no choice--her choice was already made, and all duty, all +obedience, all honour, called her to fulfil the promise she had made, to +fulfil it, too, in no niggardly lip-service sense of the word, but to +fulfil it loyally. She must turn her back to the dawn which had come too +late, she must never look there, she must for ever avert her eyes from +it. Above all, she must do all that lay in her power to prevent that +brightness growing. She must, in fact, not see Evelyn again of her own +free will. + +Then the difficulties, each to be met and overcome, began to swarm thick +about her. First and foremost there was the portrait, for which she was +engaged to give him a sitting to-morrow. That, at any rate, as far as +this particular sitting was concerned, was easily managed, a note of +three lines expressing regret did that. This, however, was only a +temporary measure, it but put off for this one occasion the necessity of +meeting what lay before her. For she knew she must not sit to him again; +she dared not risk that, she must not give this strange new rapture in +her heart the food that would make it grow. Yet, again, she must not act +like a mad-woman, and what reasonable cause could she give for so +strange a freak? Perhaps if she went there with Philip, or if she took +her mother with her. + +Yet that did not dispose of the question. Evelyn was one of her future +husband's warmest friends. In the ordinary course of things they must +often meet, but till she had conquered herself, made sure of herself, +such meetings were impossible. And how could she ever be sure of +herself, to whom had come this utterly unlooked for thing, a thing so +unlooked for that only a few weeks before she had consented to its being +dismissed as a practical impossibility? + +Then came a thought which, for the very shame of it, was bracing. Not by +word or look or sign had Evelyn ever showed that he regarded her with +the faintest feeling that answered hers. She remembered well the rise of +the full moon on the terrace of Philip's house above Pangbourne, how he +had called attention to it, merely to point out that it was not in +drawing, how she herself on that occasion had noticed how different he +was to the ordinary moonlight-walker. No hint of sentiment, no sign of +the vaguest desire towards the most harmless flirtation had appeared in +him then, nor had any appeared since. While she was sitting to him, half +the time he scowled at her, the other half he bubbled with boyish +nonsense. For very shame she must turn her back on the dawn. + +Dinner was to be early to-night, as the objective was Melba and the +opera, and her maid came in to tell her that dressing-time was already +overstepped. She got up, but paused for a moment at the window, looking +out from Buckingham Gate over the blue haze that overhung St. James' +Park, driving her resolution home. She half-pitied, half-spurned +herself, telling herself at one moment that it was hard that she had to +suffer thus, at another that she was despicable for thinking of +suffering when her road was so clearly marked for her. If what had +happened was not her fault, still less should there be any fault of hers +in what should happen. Clearly the future was in her own control; of +the future she could make what she would. + +Her mother was not coming with her to-night; indeed, she seldom wasted +the golden evening hours at the opera, when there was a rubber of bridge +so certainly at her command, and Madge went into the drawing-room to +wish her good-night before she set off. Prosperity--and the last three +weeks seemed to Lady Ellington to be most prosperous--had always a +softening effect on her, and she was particularly gracious to her +daughter, since Madge was responsible for so large a part of these +auspicious events. + +"So you're just off, dear," she said. "Dear me, you are rather late, and +I mustn't keep you. But give my love to Philip, and let him see you +home, and if I am in--you can ask them at the door--bring him in for a +few minutes. And don't forget your sitting with Mr. Dundas to-morrow." + +"Ah, I have put that off," said Madge, "I am rather busy!" + +"A pity, surely." + +"Well, I have sent the note, I am afraid. Good-night, mother, in case I +am in first." + +Philip had already arrived when she got to her cousin's house, and they +went down to dinner. Lord Ellington had got the news of the evening +feverishly mixed up in his head, and was disposed to mingle fragments of +Stock Exchange with it, forgetful, apparently, that this had been +relegated to his wife. But his natural incoherence redeemed the +situation, and when dinner was over it was already time to start for the +opera. While Gladys got her cloak, however, the two lovers had a few +private minutes, as the master of the house remained in the dining-room +when they went out. Philip had sent her that day a diamond pendant which +she was wearing now. + +"It is too good of you, Philip," she said, "and I can't tell you how I +value it. It is most beautiful. But why should you always be sending me +things?" + +Philip was usually serious, and always sincere. + +"Because I can't help it," he said. "I must give you signs of what I +feel, and even these clumsy, material signs are something." + +That sincerity touched the girl. + +"I know what you feel," she said. "I want to have it never absent from +my mind. I want to think of nothing else but that." + +This was sincere too, the outcome of this long day of thought. But +Philip came a little closer to her, and his voice vibrated as he spoke. + +"That contents me utterly," he said--"that and the gift of yourself that +you made me." + +She gave a long sigh. + +"Oh, Philip!" she began. But the voice of Gladys called to her from the +passage outside the drawing-room. + +"Come, Madge. Come, Mr. Home," she cried. "We are already so late, and I +can't bear to miss a note of _Bohême_." + +Apparently to be present in the opera-house when _Bohême_ was going on +was sufficient for Gladys, and constituted not missing a note, for she +spent that small portion of the first act which still remained to be +performed after their arrival in an absorbed examination of the +occupants of the other boxes, and whispered communications as to the +result of her investigations to Madge. The fall of the curtain had the +effect of rendering these more audible. + +"Yes, absolutely everybody is here; so good of you, dear Mr. Home, to +ask us to-night. Of course, it is the last night Melba sings, is it not? +How wonderful, is she not? That long last note quite thrilled me. So +sad, too, the last act, it always makes me cry! Oh! there is Madame +Odintseff, dearest Madge, did you ever see such ropes of pearls--cables +you might call them. Who is that she is talking to? I know her face +quite well. That's her daughter, yes, the sandy-coloured thing, rather +like a rabbit. They say she's engaged to Lord Hitchin, but I don't +believe it. Dear Madge, is it not brilliant? You look so well, dear, +to-night. If only Mr. Dundas could paint you as you are looking now! By +the way, how is the portrait getting on?" + +Philip also had risen when the act ended, and was looking out over the +house. Here he joined in. + +"Evelyn was absolutely jubilant when I saw him a few days ago," he said. +"And though he is usually jubilant over the last thing, I saw he thought +there was something extra-special about this. By-the-way, Madge, you are +sitting to him to-morrow afternoon, are you not? I shall try to look in; +my spate of work is over, I hope." + +"Oh! I'm afraid I have had to put it off," said she. "I couldn't manage +it to-morrow." + +She fingered her fan nervously for a moment. + +"In fact, Philip," she said, "I am so dreadfully full of engagements for +the next week or two that I don't see how I can squeeze in another +sitting. I am so ashamed of myself, but I can't help it. I wish you +would go down to Mr. Dundas' studio to-morrow and tell him so." + +Philip looked at her a moment in blank surprise. + +"Ah, but you can't do that," he said; "a painter isn't like a tailor to +whom you say, 'I am not coming to try on; send it home as it is.'" + +Madge lost her head a little; the burden of the hours of this day +pressed heavily on her. + +"Ah! but that is what I want him to do," she cried. "It is a wonderful +portrait; he said so himself. There is a little background that must be +put in, but I needn't be there for that." + +Gladys Ellington had turned her attention again to the house, and, with +her opera-glasses glued to her eyes, was spying and observing in all +directions. Philip cast one glance at her, and rightly considered +himself alone with Madge, for the other was blind and deaf to them. + +"Madge, is anything wrong?" he asked gently. + +"No, nothing is wrong," she said, recovering herself a little. "But I +ask you to do as I say. I can't bear sitting for that portrait any more, +and Mr. Dundas--he bores me." + +That got said, also she managed to smile at him naturally. + +"That is all, dear Philip," she added. "Pray don't let us talk of it any +more." + +"And you wish me to tell Evelyn what you say?" he asked. + +"Yes, anything, anything," she said. "I don't want to sit to him again. +But make it natural, if you can. Look at the portrait; tell him you +don't want it touched any more. Believe me, that is best." + +She paused a moment. + +"I am excited and rather overwrought to-night somehow," she said, "and +you mustn't indeed think that there is anything the matter. Indeed, +there is nothing. Tell me you believe that?" + +"Why, dear, of course, if you tell me so," he said. + +"I do tell you so." + +As has been mentioned before, there were two Philips; one known only to +the four people who knew him best, the other the Philip who showed a +sterner and harder face to the world. And though, since he was with +Madge, the Philip of the inner sanctum, where only the intimates were +admitted, was in possession, yet the door of the sanctum, as it were, +opened for a moment, and the other Philip, quick as a lizard, glanced +in. His appearance was of the most momentary duration, but he did look +in. + +She laid her hand on his arm as she said these last words, then left the +back of the box, where they had been standing, and took a chair next +Lady Ellington. + +"How full it is!" she said. "Look at the stalls too; they are like an +ant-heap, covered with brilliant, crawling ants. How hard it is to +recognise people if one is above them. I'm sure there are a hundred +people I know, but the tops of heads are like nothing except the tops of +heads. How many bald heads too! What a blessing we don't go bald like +men. Who is that walking up the gangway now? I'm sure I know him. Ah! +it's Mr. Dundas." + +The sudden stream of her talk stopped, as if a tap had been turned on. +Her eyes left the stalls and gazed vacantly over the boxes opposite. She +was conscious of wondering what would happen next--whether she would +speak, or her companion, or whether Philip would say something. Then it +seemed to her nobody would say anything any more; there was to be this +dreadful silence for ever. That possibility, at any rate, was soon +averted, for Gladys signalled violently to Evelyn, and spoke. + +"Yes, he sees us," she said. "Mr. Home, do put the door of the box open, +it is so stuffy. And Mr. Dundas I am sure is coming up. He's such a +darling, isn't he?" + +The greater part of her speech was justified by realities. Evelyn had +seen them; the heat was undeniable; also, in answer to the violent +signalling he had received, mere politeness, to say nothing of +inclination, would have made him come. But he had seen too who sat in +profile by Lady Ellington, and he took two and three steps in the stride +as he mounted the staircases. And before Madge had time to put into +execution her very unwise idea of asking Philip not to let him in, he +was at the door of the box. + +"You lordly box-holder," he said to him, "just let me in. How are you, +Lady Ellington? Yes, I'm just back from the Hermitage, to-night only, +from three days in the forest with Merivale. How are you, Miss +Ellington? I had to come up to-night, or I shouldn't have been able to +keep the appointment to-morrow." + +A sense of utter helplessness seized Madge; she could not even respond +by a word to his greeting, for his presence merely was the only thing +that mattered, the only thing she loved and dreaded. And he continued: + +"Half-past two, isn't it?" he said. "I could have come up to-morrow, of +course, but it was necessary for me to have a morning's work at the +background before I troubled you again." + +Then Gladys broke in. + +"Too wonderful, isn't it?" she said, "the portrait, I mean. But, Mr. +Dundas, who is that just opposite with rubies? I'm sure you've painted +her. That great pink thing there, who must have come from the west coast +of Asia Minor. How naughty of me!" + +But Evelyn apparently condoned the naughtiness; he mentioned the name of +the great pink thing, and turned to Madge again. + +"But by half-past two I shall be ready," he said. "Please, if it is not +an impossible request, please be punctual. Art takes so long, you know. +Not that life is short. Nobody ever died too soon." + +She turned to him, the diamond pendant that Philip had sent her that day +glittering on the smooth whiteness of her bosom. + +"I am so sorry," she said, "and I know I ought to have let you know +before, Mr. Dundas. But I can't come to-morrow. I wrote you this evening +only, I did not know you were out of town, explaining--at least +saying--I could not come." + +Philip--the real, intimate Philip--heard this. And it was he only, the +lover of this girl, who spoke in reply. + +"We have settled that I shall come instead," he said. "So your time +won't be wasted, Evelyn. You have to paint me too, you know, and if you +want it to be characteristic, make a study of a telephone and a +tape-machine. Half-past two, I think you said." + +There came a sudden hush over the crowded house as the lights went down. +Philip laid his hand on Evelyn's shoulder, as he sat in the front of the +box between the two ladies. + +"Half-past two, then, to-morrow," he repeated. + +The hint was plain enough, and Evelyn took it, and stumbled his way out +of the box to regain his seat in the stalls. What had happened, what +this all meant, he did not and could not know; he knew only what he was +left with, namely, that Madge for some reason would not sit to him +to-morrow. In his eager way he searched for a hundred motives, yet none +satisfied him, and he was forced to fall back on the obvious and simple +one, that she was busy. Nothing in the world could be more likely, his +whole practical self assured him of that; but he felt somehow as if +someone had leaned out of the window when he called at a house and had +shouted stentoriously to the servant who opened the door, "I am not at +home." He was bound to accept a thing which he did not believe. + +Then he questioned himself as to whether the fault was his. Yet that was +scarcely possible, for it was not till after he had last seen her that +the knowledge of his love for her had dawned on him. It was impossible +that he could have made that betrayal of himself, for until she had gone +he had not known that there was anything to betray. He and she had +always been on terms of the frankest comradeship, yet to-night her +manner had somehow been subtly yet essentially different. All the good +comradeship had gone from it, the indefinable feeling of "being friends" +was no longer there. Was it that the "being friends" was no longer +sufficient for him, and did the change really lie in himself? He felt +sure it did not; Madge was different. + +Evelyn was not of an analytical mind; his inferences were based usually +on instinct rather than reason, and reason was powerless to help him +here and his instinct drew no inference whatever. However, Philip was +coming to take her hour to-morrow, and he would try to find out +something about this. Indeed, perhaps there was nothing to find, for he +knew that now and for ever his own view of Madge would be coloured by +the super-sensitiveness of love. Then a suspicion altogether unworthy +crossed his mind. Was it possible that Philip had.... But, to do him +justice, he instantly dismissed it. + +Gladys, like the stag at eve, had drunk her fill of the occupants of the +boxes, and turned her attention to the stage during the second act. Her +mind was rather like a sparrow, it hopped about with such extraordinary +briskness, and apparently found something to pick up everywhere. The +things it picked up, it is true, were of no particular consequence, but +they were things of a sort, and at the end of the act she announced +them. + +"Opera is really the best way of carrying on life," she said. "You +always sing, and at any crisis you sing a tune--a real tune. And if the +crisis is really frightful, you make it the end of the act, pull the +curtain down, and have some slight refreshment in privacy, and put on +another frock. Mr. Home, is that Mrs. Israels there--that woman bound in +green? How nice to have a husband who is a magnate of South African +affairs! You can even afford to be bound in green; it doesn't matter how +you look if you are rich enough." + +Philip looked where she pointed; it certainly was Mrs. Israels. + +"Yes, that is she," he said; "but I had no idea they were as rich as her +appearance indicates." + +Lady Ellington gave a little gasp of horror. + +"Good gracious, I forgot you were a magnate too!" she cried. "How rude +of me! But, really, you are so unlike Mrs. Israels." + +Then she sank her voice to a confidential whisper. + +"Dear Mr. Home," she said, with all the brilliance of unpremeditated +invention, "do talk shop with me for one minute. Ellington told me he +had got a little sum of money--you know the sort of thing, not big +enough to be of any real use--ah, you mustn't tell him I asked you. He +would be furious, quite furious. Yes, and if you could just casually +mention some investment which might eventually cause it to be of some +use----" + +Philip--she could not see him, as he was sitting behind her, with his +arm on the back of her chair--could not help frowning. He was delighted +to be of any use to his friends, but sometimes, as now, his help was +asked in a sideways, hole-and-corner manner. Why shouldn't her husband +know? He did not like intrigue at any time; purposeless intrigue was +even more tiresome. But he expunged the frown from his voice anyhow when +he answered: + +"Yes, I can certainly recommend you an investment or two," he said, "but +I can promise you no certainty. I can only say that I hold a stake in +them myself. I suppose, as you have this--this sum of money, you will +take up your shares--pay for them, I mean!" + +She gave a little laugh of surprise. + +"You are too delicious!" she said. "You mean we can buy them without +paying for them, like a bill?" + +He laughed. + +"Well, I don't recommend that," he said. "But it can be done. However, +that is not my concern, as I'm not a broker. I will send you a note in +the morning." + +"Too good of you!" she said. "And you won't tell my husband I asked +you?" + +"Certainly not," said he, "though I really can't imagine why not." + +The unreal Philip--the one, that is to say, that Madge did not know--had +had the door slammed pretty smartly in his face, and when the real +Philip went to Evelyn's studio the next afternoon he had not attempted +to put in another appearance. Evelyn, when he arrived, was working at +the background of Madge's portrait, and he yelled to the other to keep +his eyes off it. + +"You musn't see it till it's done!" he cried. "Just turn your back, +there's a good chap, till I put it with its face to the wall. I had no +idea till I looked at it to-day how nearly it is finished. I do wish +Miss Ellington could have come this afternoon instead of you--which +sounds polite, but isn't--and I really think I might have made it the +last sitting. That sounds polite too. By the way, what an ass I am; I +never made another appointment with her last night!" + +This was all sufficiently frank, for Evelyn had managed, with the +healthy optimism of which she had so much, to reason himself out of his +fantastic forebodings of the evening before. It was left, therefore, for +Philip, a task which was not at all to his taste, to put them all neatly +back again. + +"I really doubt if she could have given you an appointment off-hand," he +said, still fencing a little. "She is really so frightfully busy I +hardly set eyes on her. Apparently, when you are to be married, you have +to buy as many things as if you were going to live on a desert island +for the rest of your life." + +Evelyn checked for a moment at this; the healthy optimism weakened a +little. + +"I must write and ask her," he said, "or go and try to find her in. I +must have the sitting soon; the thing won't be half so good if I have to +wait. It is all ready; it just wants her for an hour or two." + +Philip was conscious of a most heartfelt wish that Madge had not +entrusted him with this errand, and he cudgelled his head to think how +least offensively to perform it. Then Madge's own suggestion came to his +aid. + +"I wish you would let me see it," he said. "Pray do; I really mean it." + +Evelyn hesitated; though he had been so peremptory in its removal +before, the impulse, he knew, was rather childish, it being but the +desire to let the finished thing be the first thing seen. Yet, on the +other hand, he so intensely believed in the portrait himself that he now +felt disinclined to defer the pleasure of showing it. + +"Well, you mustn't criticise at all," he said, "not one word of that, or +I may begin to take your criticism into consideration, and I want to do +this just exactly as I see it, not as anybody else does. Do you +promise?" + +"Certainly." + +"Very well; stand back about three yards--three yards is about its +focus. Now!" + +He turned the easel back into the room again, where it stood fronting +Philip. And the latter did not want to criticise at all; he felt not the +smallest temptation to do so. Indeed, it was idle to do so; the picture +was Madge, Madge seen by an unerring eye and recorded by an unerring +brush. It stood altogether away from criticism; a man might conceivably +reject the whole of it, if he happened not to care about Evelyn's art, +but he could not reject a part. As Evelyn had said to Merivale, he had +put there what he meant to put there, but nothing that he did not. It +was brilliant, superb, a master-work. + +Philip looked at it a long minute in silence. + +"It is your best," he said. + +Evelyn laughed. + +"It is my only picture," he said. + +Then Philip saw an opportunity, which was as welcome as it was +unexpected. + +"I beg you not to touch Madge's figure or face again," he said. "It is +absolutely finished; there is nothing more to be done to it. Please!" + +Evelyn gave a snort of disgust. + +"That is criticism," he said. + +"Not at all; there is nothing to criticise. I mean it, really." + +Now Philip was no bad judge, and Evelyn was well aware of that. He had +been as he painted, intensely anxious that Philip should like it, and +Philip more than liked it. The great pleasure that that knowledge gave +him was sufficient for the time to banish the forebodings that had begun +to creep back, and were in a way confirmed by Philip's wish that it +should not be touched. + +"Oh, Philip, is it really good?" he said. "I feel that I know it is, but +I want so much that both you and she should think so." + +"I can answer for myself," said the other. + +With that the whole subject was dismissed for the time. Evelyn had given +no promise that he would not touch the figure again, but Philip on his +side was wise enough to dwell on that point no more, for he saw quite +well that a certain inkling of the true state of things had been +present, however dimly, to the other, and any further allusion would but +tend to disperse that dimness and make things clearer. So the new canvas +was produced, and Philip was put into pose after pose without satisfying +the artist. + +"No, no," he cried; "if you stand like that, you look like an elderly +St. Sebastian, and, with your hand on the table, you look like a railway +director. Look here, walk out of the room, come in whistling, and sit +down. I am not going to paint you portrait, you are not going to be +photographed. Just pretend I'm not here." + +This went better, and soon, with inarticulate gruntings, Evelyn began to +put in the lines of the figure with charcoal. At first he laboured, but +before long things began to go more smoothly; his own knitted brow +uncreased itself, and his hand began to work of itself. Then came a half +hour in which he talked, telling his sitter of his visit to the Hermit, +and the really charming days he had spent in the Forest. But that again +suggested a train of thought which caused silence again and a renewal of +the creased brow. But it was not at his sketch that he frowned. + +Eventually he laid his tools down. + +"I can't go on any more," he said. "Thanks very much! It's all right." + +He wandered to the chimney-piece, lit a cigarette, and came back again. + +"You mean Miss Ellington doesn't want to give me any more sittings, +don't you?" he said. "For it is childish to expect me to believe that +she can't spare one hour between now and the end of the month." + +The childishness of that struck Philip too. + +"But I ask you not to touch it any more, except of course the +background," he said. "Won't that content you?" + +"Not in the least. It is not the real reason." + +Philip was cornered, and knew it. + +"It is a true one," he said rather lamely. "After seeing the picture, I +should have said it, I believe, in any case." + +"But it's not the real reason," repeated Evelyn. "Of course, you need +not tell me the real reason, but you can't prevent my guessing. And you +can't prevent my guessing right." + +"Ah, is this necessary?" asked Philip. + +Evelyn flashed out at this. + +"And is it fair on me?" he cried. "I disagree with you; I want another +sitting, and she really has no right to treat me like this. I'm not a +tradesman. She can't leave me because she chooses, like that, without +giving a reason." + +Philip did not reply. + +"Or perhaps she has given a reason," said Evelyn, with peculiarly +annoying penetration. + +Indeed, these grown-up children, boys and girls still, except in years, +are wonderfully embarrassing, so Philip reflected--people who will ask +childish questions, who are yet sufficiently men and women to be able to +detect a faltering voice, an equivocation. Tact does not seem to exist +for them; if they want to know a thing they ask it straight out before +everybody. And, indeed, it is sometimes less embarrassing if there are +plenty of people there; one out of a number may begin talking, and with +the buzz of conversation drown the absence of a reply. But +alone--tactlessness in a _tête-à -tête_ is to fire at a large target; it +cannot help hitting. + +This certainly had hit, and Philip knew it was useless to pretend +otherwise. And, as the just reply to tactlessness is truth, also +tactless, he let Evelyn have it. + +"Yes, she gave a reason," he said, "since you will have it so. She said +she was bored with the sittings. And you may tell her I told you," he +added. + +Evelyn had put his head a little on one side, an action common with him +when he was trying to catch an effect. He showed no symptom whatever of +annoyance, his face expressed only slightly amused incredulity. + +"Bored with the sittings, or bored with me?" he asked. + +Philip's exasperation increased. People in ordinary life did not ask +such questions. But since, such a question was asked, it deserved its +answer. + +"Bored with you," he said. "I am sorry, but there it is; bored with +you." + +"Thanks," said Evelyn. "And now, if you won't be bored with me, do get +back and stand for ten minutes more. I won't ask for longer than that. I +just want--ah, that's right, stop like that." + +Philip, as recommended, "stopped like that," with a mixture of amusement +and annoyance in his mind. Evelyn was the most unaccountable fellow; +sometimes, if you but just rapped him on the knuckles, he would call out +that you had dealt a deathstroke at him; at other times, as now, you +might give him the most violent slap in the face, and he would treat it +like a piece of thistledown that floated by him. Of one thing, anyhow, +one could be certain, he would never pretend to feel an emotion that he +did not feel; he would, that is to say, never pump up indignation, and, +on the other hand, if he felt anything keenly, he might be trusted to +scream. Philip, therefore, as he "stopped like that," had the choice of +two conclusions open to him. The one was that Evelyn felt the same +antipathy to Madge as Madge apparently felt for him. The other was that +he did not believe Madge had said what he had reported her to have said. +But neither conclusion was very consoling; the second because, though +all men are liars, they do not like the recognition of this fact, +especially if they have spoken truly. + +Yet the other choice was even less satisfactory, for he himself did not +believe that Evelyn was bored by Madge; nor, if he pressed the matter +home, did he really believe that Madge was bored by Evelyn. She had said +so, it is true, and he had therefore accepted it. But it did not seem +somehow likely; down at Pangbourne they had been the best of friends, +and they had been the best of friends, too, since. Yet--and here the +door was again slammed on the unreal Philip--yet she had said it, and +that was enough. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +EIGHTH + + +A wave--such waves are tidal-periodic, and after they have passed leave +the sea quite calm again--a wave of interest in the simplification of +life swept over London towards the end of this season. A Duchess gave up +meat and took to deep-breathing instead; somebody else had lunch on +lentils only and drank hot water, and said she felt better already; some +half-dozen took a walk in the Park in the very early morning without +hats, and met half-a-dozen more who wore sandals; and they all agreed +that it made the whole difference, and so the movement was started. +Simplification of life: that was the real thing to be aimed at; it made +you happy, and also made any search for pleasure unnecessary, for you +only sought for pleasure--so ran the gospel, which was very swiftly and +simply formulated--because you were looking for happiness, and +mistakenly grasped at pleasure. But with the simplification of life, +happiness came quite of its own accord. You breathed deeply, you ate +lentils, you wore no hat (especially if there was nobody about), and +under the same condition you wore sandals and walked in the wet grass, +to reward you for which happiness came to you, and you ceased to worry. +Indeed, in a few days, for London flies on the wings of a dove to any +new thing, the gospel was so entrancing and so popular that hatless folk +were seen in the Park at far more fashionable hours, and Gladys +Ellington actually refused to go to a ball for fear of not getting her +proper supply of oxygen. She, it may be remarked, was never quite among +the first to take up any new thing, but was always among the foremost of +the second. + +The other Lady Ellington, it appeared, had known it "all along." It was +she, in fact, so the legend soon ran, who had suggested the +simplification of life to Tom Merivale, who now lived in the New Forest, +ate asparagus in season, but otherwise only cabbage, and had got so +closely into touch with Nature that all sorts of things perched on his +finger and sang. The devotees, therefore, of the doctrine were intent on +things perching on their fingers and singing, and wanted to go down to +the New Forest to see how it was done. But while they wanted, Lady +Ellington went. If the simplification of life were to come in, it was +always best to be the first to simplify; in addition, it would save her +so much money in her autumn parties. And she could always have a chop +upstairs. + +Her expedition to the New Forest took place a couple of days after +Philip had given his first sitting to Evelyn Dundas. Madge at this time +was looking rather pale and tired, so her mother thought, and, in +consequence, she proposed to Madge that she should come with her. This +pallor and lassitude, as a matter of fact, was a reasonable excuse +enough, though had Madge looked bright and fresh it would not have stood +in her way, since in the latter case the reason would have been that +Madge enjoyed the country so much, and had the "country-look" in her +eyes. In any case Lady Ellington meant that Madge should go with her, +and if she meant a thing, that thing usually occurred. + +To say that she was anxious about Madge would be over-stating the +condition of her mind with regard to her, for it was a rule of her life, +with excellent authority to back it, to be anxious about nothing. To say +also that she thought there was any reason for anxiety would be still +over-stating her view of her daughter, since if there had been any +reason for it, though she would still not have been anxious, she would +have cleared the matter up in some way. But her hard, polished mind, a +sort of crystal billiard-ball, admitted no such reason; merely she meant +to keep her daughter under her eye till she, another billiard-ball, it +was to be hoped, went into her appointed pocket. Then the man who held +the cue might do what he chose--she defied him to hurt her. + +Yet Lady Ellington knew quite well what, though not the cause of any +anxiety on her part, was the reason why she kept Madge under her eye, +and that reason was the existence of an artist. Madge had cancelled an +appointment she had made with him; the day after he had called, while +she and her daughter were having tea alone together, and Madge had sent +down word, insisted indeed on doing so, that they were not at home. She +had at once explained this to her mother, saying that she had a +headache, and meant to go to her room immediately she had had a cup of +tea, and was thus unwilling to leave the guest on Lady Ellington's +hands. That excuse had, of course, passed unchallenged, for Lady +Ellington never challenged anything till it really assumed a threatening +attitude. She reserved to herself, however, the right of drawing +conclusions on the subject of headaches. + +The idea, however, of the expedition to the New Forest Madge had hailed +with enthusiasm. They were to go down there in the morning, lunch with +the Hermit on lentils--she had particularly begged in her letter, +otherwise rather magisterial, that they might see his ordinary mode of +life--spend the afternoon in the forest, sleep at Brockenhurst, +returning to London next day. His reply was cordial enough, though as a +matter of fact Lady Ellington would not have cared however little +cordial it was, and they travelled down third-class because there were +fewer cushions in the third-class, and, in consequence, far fewer +bacteria. The avoidance of bacteria just now was of consequence, hence +the windows also were both wide open, and there would have been +acrimonious discussion between Lady Ellington and another passenger in +the same carriage, who had a severe cold in the head, had she not +refused to discuss altogether. + +The simplification of life had not at present in Lady Ellington's case +gone so far as to dispense with the presence of a maid. She was sent on +to the inn to engage rooms for them, and a separate table at dinner that +evening, and the two took their seats in the cab that Merivale had +ordered to meet them. He had not been at the station himself, and though +Lady Ellington was secretly inclined to resent this, as somewhat wanting +in respect, she had self-control enough to say nothing about it. Indeed, +her own polished mind excused it; "physical exercises for the morning," +she said to herself, probably detained him. + +But the Hermit proved somehow unnaturally natural. He did not give them +lentils to eat, but he gave them cauliflower _au gratin_ and brown bread +and cheese, and to drink, water. Somehow he was not, to Lady Ellington's +mind, the least apostolic, for these viands were indeed excellent, and, +what was worse, he made neither an apology nor a confession of faith +over them. It was all perfectly natural, as indeed she had begged it +should be. Therefore the leanness of her desire went deep. After lunch, +too, cigarettes were offered them, and she wanted one so much that she +took one. True, he did all the waiting himself, but he did it so deftly +that one really did not notice the absence of servants. Then, worst of +all, when lunch was over, he put his elbow on the table, and was +serious. + +"What did you come down into the wilderness for to see, Lady Ellington?" +he asked. "It is only a reed shaken by the wind. There is really nothing +more. I cannot say how charming it is to me to see you and Miss +Ellington. But I can't _tell_ you anything. You wanted to see a bit of +my life, how I live it. This is how. Now, what else can I do for you? I +am sure you will excuse me, but I am certain you came here to see +something. Do tell me what you want to see." + +This was quite sufficient. + +"Ah, if there happened to be a bird of some kind," said Lady Ellington. + +Merivale laughed. + +"What Evelyn called a conjuring trick?" he asked. "Why, certainly. But +you must sit still." + +On the lawn some twenty yards off a thrush was scudding about the grass. +It had found a snail, and was looking, it appeared, for a suitable stone +on which to make those somewhat gruesome preparations for its meal, +which it performs with such vigorous gusto. But suddenly, as Merivale +looked at it, it paused, even though at that very moment it had +discovered on the path below the pergola an anvil divinely adapted to +its purpose. Then, with quick, bird-like motion, it dropped the snail, +looked once or twice from side to side, and then, half-flying, +half-running, came and perched on the balustrade of the verandah. Then +very gently Merivale held out his hand, and next moment the bird was +perched on it. + +"Sing, then," he said, as he had said to the nightingale, and from +furry, trembling throat the bird poured out its liquid store of repeated +phrases. + +"Thank you, dear," said he, when it paused. "Go back to your dinner and +eat well." + +Again there was a flutter of wings and the scud across the grass, and in +a few moments the sharp tapping of the shell on the stone began. On the +verandah for a little while there was silence, then the Hermit laughed. + +"But there is one thing I must ask you, Lady Ellington," he said, +"though I need not say how charmed I am to be able to show you that, +since it interests you; it is that I shall not be made a sort of show. +Evelyn Dundas was down here a few days ago, and he told me that all +London was going in for the simplification of life. Of course it seems +to me that they could not do better, but I really must refuse to pose as +a prophet, however minor." + +Lady Ellington gave no direct promise; indeed from the Hermit's point of +view her next speech was far from reassuring. + +"It is too wonderful," she said, "and now I can say that I have seen it +myself. But do you think, Mr. Merivale, that you have any right to shut +up yourself and your powers like that when there are so many of us +anxious to learn? Could you not--ah, well, it is the end of the season +now, but perhaps later in the autumn when people come to London again, +could you not give us a little class, just once a week, and tell us +about the new philosophy? I'm sure I know a dozen people who would love +to come. Of course we would come down here"--this was a great +concession--"not expect you to come up to London. You would charge, of +course; you might make quite a good thing out of it." + +Merivale tried to put in a word, but she swept on. + +"Of course that is a minor point," she said, "but what is, I think, +really important, is that one should always try to help others who want +to learn. There is quite a movement going on in London; people +deep-breathe and don't touch meat; the Duchess of Essex, for +instance--perhaps you know her----" + +Here he got a word in. + +"I am so sorry," he said, "but it is absolutely out of the question. To +begin with, I have nothing to tell you." + +"Ah, but that thrush now," said she. "How did you do it? That is all I +want to know." + +He laughed. + +"But that is exactly what I can't tell you," he said, "any more than you +can tell me how it is that when you want to speak your tongue frames +words. I ask it to come and sit on my finger--hardly even that. I know +no more how I get it to come than it knows, the dear, why it comes." + +"And what else can you do?" continued Lady Ellington, abandoning for the +present the idea of a class. + +Merivale got up without the least sign of impatience or ruffling of his +good-humour. + +"I can show you over the house," he said, "or walk with you in the +forest, as you are so kind as to take an interest in what I do and how I +live, and, if you like, I will talk about the simple life and what we +may call the approach to Nature. But I must warn you there is nothing in +the least startling or sensational about it. Above all, as far as I +know, it is not possible to make short cuts; one has to tune oneself +slowly to it." + +This was better than nothing, for Lady Ellington had an excellent +memory, and could recount all the things which Merivale told her as if +she had suggested them to him and he had agreed. Also, if there was to +be no simplification class, it would at least be in her power to say +that he saw absolutely no one, but had been too charming in allowing +Madge and her to come down and spend the day with him. Indeed, after a +little reflection, she was not sure whether this was the more +distinguished _rôle_, to be the medium between the Hermit and the rest +of aspiring London. Thus it was with close attention that she made the +tour of the cottage, and afterwards they walked up through the +beech-wood on the other side of the stream on to the open heath beyond, +to spend the afternoon on these huge, breezy uplands. + +Now, it so happened that on this morning Evelyn, after rather a +sleepless, tossing night, had gone up to his studio after breakfast to +find there that, when he tried to paint, he could not. Somebody, as he +had said once before, had turned the tap off; no water came through, +only a remote empty gurgling; the imaginative vision was out of gear. +There were three or four pictures in his studio over which he might have +spent a profitable morning, but he could do nothing with any of them. He +had only the afternoon before thought out a background for the picture +he was doing of Philip, thought it out, too, with considerable care and +precision, and all he had to do was to set a few pieces of furniture, +arrange his light as he wished it over the corner which was to be +represented, and put it in. Yet he could not do anything with it; his +eye was wrong, and his colours were harsh, crude, or merely woolly and +unconvincing. He could not see things right; it seemed to him that what +he painted was in the shadow, or as if something had come between him +and his canvas. + +There was still one picture at which he could work, which he had not +looked at yet, nor even turned its easel round from the wall, and he +stood for some time in front of it, unable apparently to make up his +mind as to whether he would touch it or not. Then suddenly, with a +sharp, ill-humoured sort of tug, he wheeled it round. Yes, this was why +he could not touch Philip's portrait; here in front of him, dazzling and +brilliant, stood that which came between him and it. And as he looked +his eye cleared; it was as if a film, some material film, had been drawn +away from over it, and he examined his work with eager, critical +attention. Though ten minutes ago he could not paint, now he could not +help painting. He starved for the palette; his hands ached for the slimy +resistance of the paint dragged over the canvas. On the convex mirror, +which was to be on the wall behind the girl, reflecting her back and the +scarlet shimmering of her cloak, he had, like a child saving the +butteriest bit of toast till the end, reserved for the end the big +touches of light on the gilt frame. The more difficult, technical +painting of the mirror itself he had finished, putting the reflections +in rather more strongly than he wished them eventually to appear, for he +knew, with the artist's prescience, exactly how the lights on the gold +frame would tone them down. And it was with a smile of well-earned +satisfaction that he put these in now; he almost laughed to see how +accurately he had anticipated the result. Then, after some half-hour of +ecstatic pleasure--for at this stage every stroke told--he stepped back +and looked at it. Yes, that too was as he meant it--that too was +finished. + +Slowly his eye dwelt next on the figure of the girl. Was Philip right +after all? Did it indeed need nothing more? He felt uncertain himself. +In ninety-nine other cases out of a hundred, if he had really not been +certain, there was no one's judgment which he would have more willingly +have deferred to than Philip's; but here he could not help connecting +his insistence that nothing more should be done with the subsequent +revelation that Madge did not wish to sit again to him. It was +impossible to disconnect the two; coincidences of that sort did not +happen. + +Then the whole world of colour, of drawing, of his own inimitable art, +went grey and dead, and from its ashes rose, so to speak, the thought +that filled the universe for him, Madge herself. What, in heaven's name, +did it all mean? What had he done that she should treat him like this? +Search as he might, his conscience could find no accusation against him; +yet he could not either believe that this was a mere wilful freak on her +part. Then, again, he had called two days ago at an hour when she was +almost always in, and the man had not given him a "Not at home" direct; +he had gone upstairs. He felt absolutely certain that she had been in +and had refused to see him. + +For another hour he sat idle in his studio; he lay on his divan and took +a volume from the morraine of old _Punches_, but found the wit flat and +unprofitable; he took the violin, played a dozen notes, and put it down +again; he leaned out of the window, and remarked that it was an +extremely fine day. But as to painting any more, he could as soon have +swum through the air over the roofs of the sea of houses below him. The +studio was intolerable; his thoughts, with their dismal circle that +ended exactly where it began and went on tracing the same circle again +and again, were intolerable also; his own company was equally so. But +from that there was no relief; good or bad, it would be with him to the +grave. + +Then suddenly an idea occurred to him which held out certain promise of +relief at least, in that he could communicate his trouble, and he +thought of the Hermit Merivale had always an astonishingly cooling +effect on him; it was a pleasure in itself, especially to a feverish, +excitable mind like his, to see anyone, and that a friend, who, with +great intellectual and moral activity, was so wonderfully capable of +resting, of not worrying; restful, too, would be the glades of the +immemorial forest. And no sooner had the idea struck him than his mind +was made up; a telegram to the Hermit, a hurried glance at a railway +guide, and a bag into which he threw the requisites of a night, were all +that was required. He had just time to eat a hurried lunch, and then +started for Waterloo. + +The day had been hot and sunny when he left London, and promised an +exquisite summer afternoon in the country, where the freshness would +tone down a heat that in town was rather oppressive. But this pleasant +probability, as the train threw the suburbs over its shoulder, did not +seem likely to be fulfilled, for the air, instead of getting fresher, +seemed to gather sultriness with every mile. Evelyn was himself much of +a slave to climatic conditions, and this windless calm, portending +thunder, seemed to press down on his head with dreadful weight. Even the +draught made by the flying train had no life in it; it was a hot buffet +of air as if from a furnace mouth. Then, as he neared his destination, +the sky began to be overcast, lumps of dark-coloured cloud, with hard, +angry edges of a coppery tinge began to mount in the sky, coming up in +some mysterious manner against what wind there was. This, too, when he +got out at Brockenhurst, was blowing in fitful, ominous gusts, now +raising a pillar of dust along the high road, then dying again to an +absolute calm. Directly to the south the clouds were most threatening, +and the very leaves of the trees looked pale and milky against the black +masses of the imminent storm. Yet it was some vague consolation, though +he hated thunder anywhere, to know how much more intolerable this would +be in London, and he arrived at the cottage glad that he had come. + +It was about four when he got there, and the first thing he saw on +entering was a telegram on the table in the hall, still unopened, which +he rightly conjectured to be the one he had himself sent. In this case +clearly the Hermit was out when it arrived, and had not yet returned; +so, leaving his bag at the foot of the stairs, he passed out on to the +verandah. There, looking out over the garden, and alone, sat Madge. She +turned on the sound of his step, and, whether it was that the dreadful +colour of the day played some trick with his eyes or not, Evelyn thought +she went suddenly white. + +She rose and came towards him with a miserable semblance of a smile, not +with that smile with which, in the portrait, she laughed at the worries +of the world and all its ups and downs. She was not laughing at them +now; her smile did not rise from within. Her voice, too, was a little +strange; it faltered. And it was clear that speaking at all was an +effort to her. + +"This is quite unexpected, Mr. Dundas," she said. "I had no idea, nor, +I think, had Mr. Merivale, that you were coming." + +Evelyn said nothing; he did not even hold out his hand in answer to +hers; he but looked at her, but looked with an unquenchable thirst. But +then he found speech and a sort of manners. + +"I did not know either till this morning," he said; "but then I +telegraphed. I fancy Tom has not received it--not opened it anyhow; +there is a telegram for him at least on the table inside, which I guess +is mine. I did not know you were here either." + +Then his voice rose a little. + +"Indeed, I did not," he said. + +The girl passed her hand wearily over her brow, brushing back her hair. +She was hatless--her hat lay on the table, where still the platters of +their frugal lunch remained, since they had started on their tour of +inspection as soon as that meal was over. + +"Oh, no, I believe you!" she said. "Why should you assert it like that? +But there is a storm coming. I hate thunder. And I was alone." + +Certainly the dreadful tension of the atmosphere had communicated itself +to these two. Madge was, at any rate, frightfully aware that her speech +was not wise. But wisdom had gone to the vanishing point. This meeting +had been so unthinkably unexpected. In a way it stunned her, just as the +approaching storm made her unnormal, unlike herself. But she had wits +enough left to laugh--the conventional laugh merely, that is like the +inverted commas to a written speech. + +"I suppose I had better explain myself and my presence here," she said. +"My mother asked Mr. Merivale if we might come down and see the +simplification of life on its native heath. So we came and lunched here. +Then we all three went for a walk, but I was tired and headachy, and +turned back. They went on. I knew a storm was coming, though when we set +out it was quite clear. I told them so. And in the last ten minutes it +has come up like the stroke of a black wing. Ah!" + +She shut her eyes for a moment as a violent flicker of lightning cut its +way down from the clouds in the south, and waited, still with shut eyes, +for the thunder. + +"It is still a long way off," said Evelyn, as the remote growl answered. + +"I know, but if you had seen the sky an hour ago. It was one turquoise. +And I daren't go back to Brockenhurst. I must stop here and wait for +them." + +"May I take you back?" asked Evelyn. + +"No; what good would that do? I may as well be terrified here as on the +road. Also I can keep dry here." + +Again she winced as the lightning furrowed its zig-zag path through the +clouds. This time the remoteness of the thunder was less reassuring; +there was an angry, choking clap, which suggested that it meant +business. + +By this time Evelyn had recovered himself from the first stabbing +surprise of finding Madge alone here. Her terror, too, of the +approaching storm had drowned his dislike of it; also, for the moment, +at any rate, his ordinary, natural instinct of alleviating the mere +physical fear of this girl drowned the more intimate sense of what she +was to him. If only she might become thoroughly frightened and cling to +him--for this outrageous possibility did cross his mind--how he would +rejoice in the necessity that such an accident would force on him the +necessity, since he knew that he would be unable to offer resistance, of +saying that which he had told Merivale only a few days before he felt he +could not help saying! But to do him justice, he dismissed such a +possibility altogether; that it had passed through his mind he could not +help, but all his conscious self rejected it. + +Then, at the moment of the angry answering thunder, a few big splashes +of rain began to star the dry gravel-path below them, hot, splashing +drops, like bullets. They fell with separate, distinct reports on the +leaves of the lilacs and on the path; they hissed on the grass, they +whispered in the yielding foliage of the roses of the pergola, and were +like spirit-rappings on the roof of the verandah. + +And Madge's voice rose in suppressed terror: + +"Oh, where are they?" she cried. "Why don't they come back? He can't +make the lightning just sit on his finger like the thrush. Shall we go +to meet them? Oh, go to meet them, Mr. Dundas!" + +"And leave you alone?" he asked. + +Madge's wits had thoroughly deserted her. + +"No, don't do that," she cried. "Let's go indoors, and pull down the +blinds and do something. What was that game you suggested once, that you +should go out of the room while I thought of something, and that then +you should come back and try to guess it. Anything, draughts, chess, +surely there is something." + +Evelyn felt strangely master of himself. At least, he knew so well what +was master of him that it came to the same thing. He had certainty +anyhow on his side. + +"Yes, let us come indoors," he said. "I know my way about the house. +There is a room on the other side; we shall see less of it there; I hate +thunder too. But you need have no earthly anxiety about Lady Ellington. +They may get wet, but that is all. There then, stop yours ears; you will +hear it less." + +But he had hardly time to get the words out before the reverberation +came. Again clearly, business was meant, immediate business too; the +thunder followed nervously close on the flash. And at that Madge fairly +ran into the house, stumbling through the darkness in the little narrow +hall, and nearly falling over the bag that Evelyn had left there. True +though it was that she disliked thunder, she did not dislike it to this +point of utterly losing her head in a storm. But, just as her nerves +were physically upset, so, too, her whole mind and being was troubled +and storm-tossed by this unexpected meeting with Evelyn, and the two +disorderments reacted and played upon one another. Had there been no +thunderstorm she would have faced Evelyn's appearance with greater +equanimity; had he not appeared she would have minded the thunderstorm +less. But she braced herself with a great effort, determined not to lose +control completely over herself. And the effort demanded a loan from +heroism--physical fear, the fear that weakens the knees and makes the +hands cold, is hard enough in itself to fight against, but to fight not +only against it but against a moral fear, too, demands a thrice braver +front. + +She, too, remembered in their tour over the house the room of which +Evelyn had spoken. It looked out, as he said, in the other direction, +and she would, at any rate, not see here the swift uprush of the storm. +It was very dark, not only from the portentous sootiness of the sky, but +because the big box hedge stood scarcely a dozen yards from the window. +Here Evelyn followed her, and, striking a match, lit a couple of +candles. He also had by now got a firmer hand over himself, but at the +sight of Madge sitting there, a sort of vision of desolateness, his need +for her, the need too that she at this moment had for comfort, almost +mastered him, and his voice was not wholly steady. + +"There, you'll be better here," he said, "and candles are always +reassuring, are they not? You will laugh at me, but I assure you that if +I am alone in a storm I turn on all the electric light, shut the +shutters, and ransack the house for candles and lamps. Then I feel +secure." + +Madge laughed rather dismally. + +"Yes, thanks, that makes me feel a little better," she said. "It is +something anyhow to know one has a companion in one's unreasonableness. +I don't know what it is in a thunderstorm that agitates me; I think it +is the knowledge of the proximity of some frightful force entirely +outside the control of man, that may explode any moment." + +Evelyn had turned to shut the door as she spoke, but at this a sort of +convulsive jerk went through him, and involuntarily he slammed it to. +There was something of deadly appropriateness in the girl's words; +indeed, there was a force in proximity to her outside her control. He +could not even feel certain that it was within his own, whether he was +able to stop the explosion. But her previous conduct to him, her refusal +to sit again, her saying that he bored her, her refusal even to see him +when he paid an ordinary call, were all counter-explosions, so to speak. + +The noise of the door that he had banged startled him not less than her. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "I don't know how I did that. It flew out +of my fingers, as servants say when they break something." + +The first slow, hot drops of rain that had been the leaking of the +sluices of heaven, had given place to a downpour of amazing volume and +heaviness. In the windless air the rain fell in perpendicular lines of +solid water, as if from a million inexhaustible squirts, rattling on the +roof like some devil's tattoo, and hissing loud in the hedge outside. +The gurgling of the house gutters had increased to a roar, and every now +and then they splashed over, the pipes being unable to carry away the +water. But for the last few minutes there had been no return of the +lightning, and the air was already a little cooler and fresher, the +tenseness of its oppression was a little relieved. And in proportion to +this Madge again rather recovered herself. + +"I really am most grateful to you, Mr. Dundas," she said, "for your +arrival. I don't know what I should have done here alone. Did you come +down from London this morning?" + +Evelyn drew a chair near her and sat down. + +"Yes, I settled to come quite suddenly," he said. "I had meant to work +all day, and I did for half an hour or so, but everything else looked +ugly, I could not see either colour or form properly...." + +"Everything else?" said Madge unsuspectingly; his phrase was ambiguous; +she did not even distantly guess what he meant. + +"Yes, everything else, except my portrait of you," he said shortly. + +There was a pause of unrivalled awkwardness, and the longer it lasted +the more inevitable did the sequel become. + +"I must ask you something," said Evelyn at length. "I ask it only in +common justice. Do you think you are treating me quite fairly in +refusing to sit for me again? For I tell you plainly, you cheat me of +doing my best. And when one happens to be an artist of whatever class, +that is rather a serious thing for anybody to do. It means a lot to me." + +His words, he knew, were rather brutal; it was rather brutal too to take +advantage of this enforced _tête-à -tête_. But he could not pause to +think of that; he knew only that unless he said these things he could +not trust himself not to say things less brutal, indeed, but harder for +her to hear. He could not quite tell how far he had himself in control. +She had put out one hand as he began, as if to ward off his question; +but as he went on it fell again, and she sat merely receiving what he +said, sitting under it without shelter. + +"You have no right to treat me like that," he continued. "We part at my +door, as far as I know, perfectly good friends one day, two days +afterwards I am told that you cannot sit to me again. What can I have +done? Have I done anything? Is it my fault in any way?" + +She looked at him once imploringly. + +"Please, please don't go on asking me," she said. + +But she could not stop him now; his own bare rights justified his +questions, and there was that behind which urged him more strongly than +they. + +"Is it my fault in any way?" he repeated. + +Then a sort of despairing courage seized the girl; she would nerve +herself to the defence of her secret whatever happened. + +"No, it is not your fault," she said. + +"Then when you told Philip that it was because I bored you----" + +"Did he tell you that?" she asked. + +"Yes, he told me. It was not his fault. I made him practically. He could +not have refused me." + +She thought intently for a moment, unable to see where her answer would +lead her, or, indeed, what answer to give. In that perplexity she took +the simplest way out, and told the truth. + +"Yes, I said that," she said. "But it was not true." + +"Then, again, I ask you why?" said he. + +She felt that she must break if he went on, and made one more appeal. + +"Ah, I beg of you not to question me," she cried. "You talk of justice +too--is it fair on me that you use the accident of finding me alone here +in this way? I can't go away, you know that, there is no one here to +protect me. But if you by a single other question take advantage of it, +I shall leave the house, just as I am, in this deluge, and walk back to +the hotel. I must remind you that I am an unprotected girl, and you, I +must remind you, are a gentleman." + +She rose with flashing eyes; it had taxed all her bravery to get this +out, but it had come out triumphant. + +But the moment had come; all the force that had been gathering up was +unable to contain itself in him any longer. One terrific second of calm +preceded the explosion, and, as if Nature was following the lines of +this human drama, for that second the downpour of the blinding rain +outside was stayed. Inside and out there was a moment's silence. + +"I know all that," he said quietly, "but I can't help myself. It is not +for the picture--that doesn't matter. It is for me. Because I love you." + +Madge threw her arms wide, then brought them together in front of her as +if keeping him off, and a sort of cry of triumph that had begun to burst +from her lips ended in a long moan. Then the room for a moment was so +suddenly illuminated by some hellish glare that the candle burned dim, +and simultaneously a crack of thunder so appalling shattered the +stillness that both leaped apart. + +"Oh, something is struck!" she cried. "It was as if it was in the very +room: Is it me? Is it you? Oh, I am frightened!" + +But Evelyn hardly seemed to notice it. + +"That is why--because I love you," he said again. + +For the moment Madge could neither speak nor move. That sudden double +shock, the utter surprise of it all, and, deep down in her heart, the +tumult of joy, stunned her. Then she raised her eyes and looked at him. + +"You must go away at once, or I," she said. "We can't sit in the same +room." + +"But you don't hate me, you don't hate me for what I have said?" cried +he. + +"Hate you?" she said. "No, no, I"--and a sob for the moment choked +her--"no, you must not think I hate you." + +Just then the sound of a footfall outside and a voice in the hall struck +in upon them, and Madge's name was called. In another moment the door +opened and Lady Ellington entered, followed by Merivale. + +"Ah, there you are, Madge!" she said. "Has it not been appalling? A tree +was struck close to---- Mr. Dundas?" she said, breaking off. + +Evelyn came a step forward. By a difficult, but on the whole a merciful +arrangement, whatever private crisis we pass through, it is essential +that the ordinary forms of life be observed. The solid wood may be rent +and shattered, but the veneer must remain intact. This is merciful +because our thoughts are necessarily occupied in this way with trivial +things, whereas if they were suffered to dwell entirely within, no brain +could stand the strain. + +"Yes, I got here just before the storm began," he said, "and Miss +Ellington and I have been keeping each other company. We both hate +thunder." + +Madge, too, played at trivialities. + +"Ah, mother, you are drenched, soaking!" she cried. "What will you do?" + +"I really urge you not to wait," said Merivale. "Let me show you a room; +get your things off and wrap up in blankets till your maid can come +from Brockenhurst with some clothes. I will send a boy in with a note at +once." + +Madge went upstairs with her mother to assist her, and Merivale came +down again to rejoin Evelyn. + +"I've only just seen your telegram," he said, "but I'm delighted you +have come. That's a brave woman, that Lady Ellington. A tree was struck +only a few yards from us, and she merely remarked that it was a great +waste of electricity. But I'm glad it was wasted on the tree and not +me." + +He scribbled a few lines and addressed them to Lady Ellington's maid, +and went off to get somebody to take the note into Brockenhurst. Then he +came back to Evelyn. + +The latter had not gone back to the room where he and Madge had sat +during the storm, but was out on the verandah. Just opposite, on the +other side of the river, was the tree that had been struck, not a +hundred yards distant. One branch, as if in a burst of infernal anger on +the part of the lightning, had been torn off, as a spider tears off the +wing of a fly, and down the center of the trunk from top to bottom was +scored a white mark, where the wood showed through the torn bark. But +the tree stood still, no uprooting had taken place; but even now, in +this windless calm, its leaves were falling--green, vigorous leaves, +that seemed to know that the trunk and the sap that sustained them were +dead. They fell in showers, a continuous rain of leaves, until the +ground beneath was thick with them. All the pride of the beech's summer +glory was done; in an hour or two the tree would be as leafless as when +the gales of December whistled through it. What mysterious telegraphy of +this murderous disaster had passed through the huge trunk, that had sent +the message to the uttermost foliage like this; some message which each +leaf knew to be terribly true, so that it did not wait for the +dismantlement of the autumn, but even now, in full vigour of green +growth, just fell and died? Somehow that seemed to Evelyn very awful and +very inevitable; the citadel had fallen, struck by a bolt from above, +and in the uttermost outworks the denizens laid down their arms. +Something, too, of the sort had happened to himself in the last hour; he +had told Madge the secret of his life, that which made every artery fill +and throb with swift electrical pulsation of rapturous blood, and it had +all passed into nothingness. She had said she did not hate him; that +was all. His recollection, indeed, of what had happened after he had +told her was still rather dim and hazy; there had been a terrific clap +of thunder, she had said she did not hate him; then her mother and +Merivale came in. + +Then, as the falling leaves from the tree might be gathered and put in a +heap, at any rate, the shattered fragments of the afternoon began to +piece themselves together again. She had confessed that she had said he +bored her, she had confessed also that that was not true. What did that +mean? She had said she did not hate him. What did that mean? And was her +utter disorderment of mind, that hopeless, appealing agitation which had +been so present in her manner throughout, merely the result of the +thunderous air? Or was there something else that agitated her, his +presence, the knowledge that she had behaved inexplicably? And--was it +possible that the tree should live again after that rending furrow had +been scored on it? + +Merivale soon returned, still smilingly unruffled, and still in soaking +clothes. But he seemed to be unconscious of them, and sat down in the +verandah by Evelyn. Since that terrific clap there had been no return of +the thunder, but the rain was beginning to fall again, slow, steady, and +sullen from the low and dripping sky. He saw at once that something had +happened to Evelyn; he was trembling like some startled animal. But +since he held that to force or even suggest a confidence was a form of +highway robbery, he forbore from any questioning. + +"So you were with Miss Ellington during the storm," he said. "How I love +that superb violence of elements! It is such a relief to know that there +are still forces in the world which are quite untamable, and that by no +possibility can Lady Ellington divert the lightning into accumulators, +which will light our houses." + +Evelyn turned on him a perfectly vacant face; he seemed not to have +heard even. + +"What did Lady Ellington do?" he asked. + +"She attended when I talked to her," said the Hermit, with pardonable +severity. + +Evelyn pulled himself together. + +"Look here, something's happened," he said briefly. "It's--I've told her +that I love her. And that's all; it's a rope dangling in the air, +nothing more happened. She just said I had better go to another room. +She made no direct answer at all; she wasn't even shocked." + +Then the tiny details began to be gathered in his mind, as if a man +swept the fallen leaves from the stricken tree into a heap. + +"She gave a sort of cry," he said, "but at the end it was a moan. She +threw her arms wide, and then held them to keep me off. What does it +mean? What does it all mean?" + +He got up quickly and began walking up and down the verandah. + +"Where is she?" he said. "I must see her again. I must say what I said +again, and tell her she must answer me." + +The Hermit, for all his inhuman life, had some glimmerings of sense. + +"You must do nothing of the sort," he said. "You don't seem to realise +what you have done already. Why, she is engaged to Philip, to your +friend, and you have told her you love her. Good gracious, is not that +enough to make her moan?" + +"I told you I should a week ago," said Evelyn. + +"Yes, but you told me that conditionally. You said you would do so when +you saw she loved you. Instead---- Good heavens! Evelyn, you must be +unaware of what you have done. You were left with the girl during a +thunderstorm, a thing that excites you and terrifies her, and you took +advantage of your excitement and her terror to say this. It's ugly; it's +beastly. But I can say it isn't like you." + +Evelyn showed no sign of resenting this. As far as the mere criticism of +what he had done was concerned, he appeared merely to feel a +speculator's interest in how it all struck another spectator. Even Lady +Ellington's hard, polished mind could not have presented a surface more +impervious to scratches. + +"You speak as if I did it all intentionally," he remarked. "But I never +intended anything less. It had nothing to do with what I could control. +I had no more power over it than I had over the thunderstorm. After all, +you don't blame your thrush for eating worms. If one acts instinctively, +nobody has any right to blame me. Besides, I don't want your moral +judgment. I just want to know what it means. You have called me a Pagan +before now, and I did not deny it. But there I am. I don't happen to +like the colour of your hair, but I accept it. It seems to me buttery, +if you want to know. And I seem to you Pagan, without conscience, you +think I have acted uglily. Very well." + +Merivale hesitated a moment; he had no desire to say hard things because +they were hard. On the other hand, he felt that the game must be played, +rules had to be observed, or human life broke up in confusion, as if the +fielders in a game of cricket would not run after the ball or the bowler +bowl. He himself did not go in for cricket, he deliberately stood aside, +but the rules were binding on those who played. Yet it was no use trying +to convince a person who fundamentally disagreed. + +"Well, you asked me," he said, "and I have given you my opinion. That's +all. Nobody's opinion is binding on anyone else. But I do ask you to +think it over." + +Evelyn gave a little click of impatience. + +"Think it over!" he said. "What else do you suppose I should be thinking +about, or what else have I thought about for days?" + +Merivale shook his head. + +"Try to get outside yourself, I mean, and look at what you have done +from any other standpoint than your own. You say you couldn't help +telling her. Well, there are certain things one has got to help, +else----" + +He stopped; it was no use talking. But Evelyn wanted to hear. + +"Else?" he suggested. + +"Else you had better not mix with other people at all," said Merivale. +"You have better reason for turning hermit than I. You have told a girl +who is engaged to your friend that you love her. Think over that!" + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +NINTH + + +In spite of her wetting Lady Ellington felt she had had a most +interesting day, when, an hour later, she drove back with Madge and her +maid to Brockenhurst. She was not in the least afraid of having caught +cold, because her physical constitution was, it may almost be said, as +impervious to external conditions as her mind. That frightful flash of +lightning, too, which had shattered the now leafless tree, had also, as +we have seen, been powerless to upset the even balance of her nerves, +and had only evoked a passing regret that so much electric force should +be wasted. She could, therefore, observe with her customary clearness +that something had occurred to agitate Madge, and though the +thunderstorm alone might easily account for this--where Madge had got +her nerves from she could not conjecture, there was nothing hereditary +about them, at any rate, as far as her mother was concerned--yet it +required no great exercise of constructive imagination to connect +Evelyn's sudden appearance with this agitation. She remembered also +Madge's refusal to see him the other day, and her rather unaccountable +postponement of the sitting. A few well-chosen questions, however, would +soon settle this, and these she delivered that evening after dinner, +firing them off like well-directed shots at a broad target. She did not, +to continue the metaphor, want to make bull's eyes at once, a few outers +would show her the range sufficiently well. + +She had first, however, committed to writing on half-a-dozen sheets of +the hotel paper her impressions of the day and the conversation of Mr. +Merivale, in so far as it bore upon the simplification of life, and was +pleased to find how considerable a harvest she had gathered in. Lady +Ellington's literary style had in perfection those qualities of +clearness and sharp outline that distinguished her mind, and her +document might have been a report for an academy of science, so well +arranged and precise was it. There were no reflections of her own upon +the matter; it was merely a chronicle of facts and conversation. This +having been written, revised, and read aloud to Madge, she then marched +with her gun to her position in front of the target. + +"It was odd that Mr. Dundas should have appeared so unexpectedly, +Madge," she said. "You must have had some considerable time with him if +he arrived before the storm began." + +Madge had been rather expecting this, and she winced under her mother's +firm, hard touch. + +"Yes, he had been there about an hour before you came in," she said. "I +think your account is quite excellent, mother." + +This, if we consider it as an attempt to draw Lady Ellington off the +subject of Evelyn, was quite futile. She did not even seem to notice +that such an attempt had been made. + +"And did you arrange about your further sittings?" she asked. + +"I don't think any more will be necessary," replied Madge. "Philip +agrees with me too." + +"And Mr. Dundas?" + +"I don't think he will ask me for any more either." + +Lady Ellington considered this a moment. + +"But surely you had settled to have one more," she said, "the one which +you postponed." + +"Yes, but I think we all agree now that as far as I am concerned the +picture is finished." + +Lady Ellington was not exactly puzzled; it would be fairer to say that +though she did not quite know where this led, she was quite certain it +led somewhere. It was not a puzzle; it was rather a clue. So she got +behind a bush, as it were, and continued firing from there. + +"He is a great friend of Philip's, is he not?" she said. "I suppose you +will see a good deal of him after your marriage?" + +This sharp-shooting was frightfully trying to Madge's nerves; she never +knew where the next shot might be coming from. But in that it was now +quite clear to her that shooting was going on, it was the part of wisdom +to defend herself. + +"Oh! I hope so," she said, "he is charming. I expect he will be +constantly with us." + +This was a little disconcerting; Madge had distinctly had the best of +that exchange. But she was in the beleaguered position; she felt that at +any moment she might have to give in. She had a wild desire simply to +leave the room, for she wanted to be alone, and to think over all that +she now knew, but the clock inexorably pointed to half-past nine only, +and to say she was going to bed would simply strengthen whatever idea it +was in Lady Ellington's mind that prompted her questions. Maternal +anxiety and solicitude, though the point of view of the mother was +perhaps a little predominant, were the moving causes of them, if they +were referred back to primary motives; to put it more bluntly yet, Lady +Ellington merely wished for a guarantee that nothing of any sort had +occurred which might, however remotely, influence the matrimonial design +for her daughter which she had formed and Madge had agreed to carry out. +That she had fears that things were running otherwise than smoothly--by +smoothly being meant that the marriage would take place on the +twenty-eighth of the month--would be an overstatement of the idea that +prompted these questions, but she certainly wished for some convincing +word that she need have none. + +Now, in the art of conversation as generally expounded, provision is not +made for one very important and common contingency. Of the two +conversationalists one may be willing to talk of anything in the world +except one subject, the other may for the time wish to talk about no +other than that, and thus conversation becomes difficult. But it would +often be a tactical error--a thing of which Lady Ellington was seldom +guilty--for the person who wishes to speak of one subject only to batter +the other with too many questions on it. It is often better to sit +quietly down and wait, refusing with what politeness there may be handy +to talk of anything else, and simply let silence do its stealthy +work--for awkward silences are wearing, and the wearing effect is +inevitably felt by the side which is willing to talk of any but the one +subject. Lady Ellington perhaps had never formulated this in all its +naked simplicity, but she had often before now put the theory into +practice with masterly effect, and she did so now. There was, so to +speak, but one gate through which the beleaguered garrison could make a +sortie: round that she concentrated her forces. The beleaguered +garrison knowing that, tried to make a sortie through every other gate +first. + +A long silence. + +"That was a terrible storm this afternoon," said Madge. "The rain fell +in bucketsfull. I saw there were quite deep channels across the road +along which we drove back here, which it had made." + +"I did not notice them," said Lady Ellington. + +Silence. + +"Fancy Mr. Merivale cooking for himself and doing all the housework," +said Madge. + +"Fancy!" said Lady Ellington. + +Silence. + +"Shall we go up after breakfast to-morrow?" asked Madge. + +"Unless you would like to go before," said her mother. + +There is a terrible little proverb about being cruel only to be kind, +and this benignant sort of torture exactly describes the procedure of +Lady Ellington. Should there be--and she was quite sure there +was--something going on in Madge's mind with regard to Evelyn she was +quite convinced that it would be better in every way that she should +know about it. That was the ulterior kindness; the immediate cruelty was +apparent--for Madge was on the edge of a crisis of nerves; a very little +push might send her sprawling. If that then was the case, Lady Ellington +distinctly wished that she should sprawl; if, on the other hand, there +was nothing critical or agitating in her outlook, the little push would +do no harm whatever, for a mind at peace does not have its tranquility +upset by vague suggestions and indefinite suspicions. + +But since poor Madge was far from owning just now that inestimable +possession of a tranquil mind, in the silence that followed her third +fiasco in making general conversation, she began to get restless and +fidgetty. She opened a book and looked blankly at a page, and shut it +again; she fingered the ornaments on the mantlepiece; she went to the +open window and looked out for a considerable time into the hot, wet +blackness, for the slow, steady rain was again falling, and the heavens +wept from a sullen sky. The ridge of the forest below which stood +Merivale's house was directly opposite the window--she had seen that +before night fell--and, like the thrush that came to his voiceless call, +so now her spirit sped there to one who called for her. That sudden +flash of lightning had not been more unexpected than Evelyn's +declaration to her that afternoon, nor had the thunder that followed it +come quicker in response than she had come. And now she wondered, half +with dread, half with a wild, secret hope, whether he had noticed that +momentary self-betrayal that she had made. She knew that before she +could think or control herself, a cry had been on her lips, her arms had +flung themselves wide. True, as soon as her conscious brain could work, +she had revoked and contradicted what she had done. But had he seen? How +terrible if he had seen! How terrible if he had not! + +What had become, she asked herself, of all her sober and sane +conclusions of a week ago? She knew then that she loved him, that that +which had been a stranger to her all her life, no pleasant domestic +affection, but something wild, unbarred, almost brutal, yet how +essential now to life itself, had dropped into her heart, as a stone +drops into the sea, going down and down to depths unplumbable, yet still +going down until the bottom--the limits of her soul--was reached. And +he? Was she to him another such stone? Was she really sinking down and +down in his heart, so steadily and inevitably that all the tides of all +the seas might strive, yet could never cast that stone up again? It was +such a little thing, yet no power on earth, unless the laws that govern +the earth were revised and made ineffectual, could ever stay its course, +if it moved under the same command as she. Each had to settle in the +depths of the other. Once the surface was broken by the little splash, +down that would go which made the splash, and whether in a wayside +puddle or in the depths of mid-Atlantic, it would rest only where it +touched bottom. Such was the sum of her wide-eyed staring into the +blackness of the rain-ruled night. Then, still restless, she turned back +again into the room, and faced not the world of dreams and solitary +imaginings, of what must theoretically be the case, but the material +side of it all, which indubitably had its word to say. On the table was +the letter she had received an hour before dinner, forwarded from +London, and expressing the pleasure of the donor in sending a wedding +present; there too was her own answer of neatly-worded thanks, and, +above all, there was her mother, patiently adamant. And the beleaguered +garrison, though it knew that the enemy--that friendly enemy--awaited +it, went out on a sortie too forlorn to call a hope through the only +available gate. + +Madge sat down in the chair she had occupied before. + +"You have been asking me a lot of questions, mother," she said, "which +bear on Mr. Dundas. I suppose you think or have guessed that something +has happened. You are quite right; I think you are always right. He told +me this afternoon that he was in love with me." + +Lady Ellington hardly knew whether she had expected this or not; at any +rate she showed no sign of surprise. + +"What very bad taste," she said, "his telling you, I mean." + +Madge had given a sudden hopeless giggle of laughter at the first four +words of this, before the explanation came. Lady Ellington waited till +she had finished. + +"What did you say to him?" she asked. + +"I hardly know. I think I said that one or other of us must leave the +room." + +"Very proper; and he?" + +"He--he asked me whether I hated him for it. And I told him I did not." + +Then she broke; whether or no it was wiser to be silent she did not +pause to consider, for she could not be silent. There must be a crash; a +situation of this kind could not adjust itself in passivity, it was mere +temporising not to speak at once. + +"Because I don't hate him," she said, now speaking quickly as if in fear +of interruption. "I love him. Oh! I have done my best; if he had never +spoken, never let me know that he loved me, I could have gone on, I +think, and done what it has been arranged for me to do. Philip knew, you +see, that I did not love him like that. I had told him. But I did not +know what it was. I almost wish I had never known. But I know; I can't +help that now." + +Whatever Lady Ellington's gospel as regards the best plan on which to +conduct life was worth, if weighed as a moral principle, it is quite +certain that she acted up to it. She put a paper-knife into the book she +had taken up during Madge's aimless wanderings about the room to mark +the page of her perusal, and spoke with perfect calmness. + +"And what do you propose to do?" she asked. + +Madge had not up till that moment proposed to do anything; she had not, +in other words, considered the practical interpretation of this +bewildering discovery. The fact that her silent, secret love--a love +which she was determined to lock up forever in her own breast--was +returned, was so emotionally overwhelming that as from some blinding +light she could only turn a dazzled eye elsewhere. Her first instinct, +at the moment at which that was declared to her, was of rapturous +acceptance of it, but almost as instinctive (not quite so instinctive, +since it had come second) was a shrinking from all that it implied--her +rupture with Philip, his inevitable suffering, the pressure that she +knew would be brought to bear on her. Yet the thing had to be faced; it +was no use shrinking from it, and Lady Ellington's question reminded her +of the obvious necessity for choice. Her choice indeed was made; it was +time to think of what action that choice implied. But she answered +quietly enough. + +"No, I have not yet thought of what I mean to do," she said. "I suppose +we had better talk about it." + +Then Lady Ellington unmasked all her batteries. It was quite clear that +Madge already seriously contemplated breaking off her engagement with +Philip and marrying this artist. + +"Indeed, we had better talk about it," she said. "But I want to ask you +one question first. Has Mr. Dundas the slightest notion that his feeling +for you is reciprocated?" + +Madge thought over this a moment. + +"He has no right to think so," she said. "I--I have told you what +occurred. The whole thing was but a few seconds." + +"There are various ways of spending a few seconds," said her mother. +"But you think you spent them discreetly." + +Madge looked up with a sort of weary patience. + +"You mustn't badger me," she said. "It is no use. I did my best to +conceal it." + +Then the bombardment began. + +"Very good; we take it that he does not know. Now let us consider what +you are going to do. Do you mean to write a note to him saying, 'Dear +Mr. Dundas, I love you?' If that is your intention, you had better do it +at once. There is no kind of reason for delay. But if it is not your +intention, taking that in its broadest sense to mean that you will not +make known to him that you love him, dismiss that possibility +altogether. Pray give me your whole attention, Madge; nothing that can +occur to you in the whole of your life is likely to matter more than +this." + +"But I love him," pleaded Madge, "and he loves me. Is not that enough? +Must not something happen?" + +"I ask you whether you intend to do anything; that implies now that you, +without further action on his part, will show him that you love him. The +question just requires 'Yes' or 'No.'" + +"And supposing I decline to answer you?" asked Madge, suddenly flashing +out. + +"I don't think you can do that. You see I am your mother; as such, I +think I have a right to know what you propose to do." + +Madge covered her eyes with her hand for a moment. The question had to +be answered; she knew that, and she knew also that unless Evelyn made a +further sign she could do nothing. If his love for her, as she doubted +not at all, was real, he must approach her again. Here then were all the +data for her answer. + +"No," she said. "I shall do nothing, because there is no need. He +must----" And she broke off. Then she got up with a sudden swift +movement. + +"You put it coarsely, you make cast-iron of it all, mother," she said, +"when you ask me if I intend to write to him and tell him. Of course I +do not." + +"Nor see him?" pursued Lady Ellington. + +"If he asks to see me I shall see him," said she. "And if his object is +to say again what he said to-day, I shall tell him." + +Now to get news, even if it is not very satisfactory, is better than not +getting news. In uncertainty there is no means of telling how to act, +and whatever the contingency--a contingency known is like a danger +known--it can perhaps be guarded against, and it can certainly be faced. +How to guard against this Lady Ellington did not at the moment see, but +she knew that danger lay here. + +"And from that moment you will break off your engagement with Philip?" +she asked. + +There was no need here of any reply, and Lady Ellington continued: + +"Now consider exactly how Mr. Dundas stands," she said. "He knows you +are engaged to a friend of his, that you will be married in a few +weeks, and he allows himself, left alone with you by accident, to make +this declaration to you. Does that seem to you to be an honourable +action?" + +Then once again Madge flashed out. + +"Ah, who cares?" she cried. "What does that matter?" + +Lady Ellington rose. + +"You have also promised to marry Philip," she said. "I suppose that does +not matter either? Or do I wrong you?" + +"He would not wish me to marry him if he knew," said Madge. + +Lady Ellington poured out her glass of hot water, and sipped it in +silence. She knew well that many words may easily spoil the effect of +few, and her few, she thought, on the whole had been well chosen. So +just as before she had refused to talk on any subject but one, so now, +since she had said really just what she meant to say, she refused any +longer to talk on it, but was agreeably willing, as Madge had been some +ten minutes before, to talk about anything else. + +"I think there will be more rain before morning," she said. + +Then Madge came close to her and knealt by her chair. + +"Are you not even sorry for me, mother?" she said. + +"I shall be if you act unwisely," replied the other, and Madge, there +was nothing else to be done, got up again. + +There was a slightly chalybeate taste in Lady Ellington's hot water +to-night, and she remarked on it; this was more noticeable if the water +was hot than if it was cold, but the taste was not unpleasant. Then the +question of their train up to town the next day was debated, and it was +settled to leave that till to-morrow. Indeed, it was rather a pity to +come down into the country for so few hours, and their afternoon to-day +had really been spoiled by the rain. Another walk in the forest--it +would look beautifully fresh and green after the storm--would be very +pleasant to-morrow morning, if it was fine. + +All this, delivered in her cool, well-bred voice, had a sort of +paralytic effect on Madge; she felt as if coils were being wound round +her that hampered her power of movement. She could scarcely picture +herself as in active opposition to her mother's will, and the picture of +herself triumphant over it was even more unthinkable. But, as usual, she +kissed her mother when she said "Good night" to her, and her mother +offered her bromide if she thought that the excitement and agitation +caused by the thunderstorm would be likely to prevent her sleeping. + +Lady Ellington did not propose taking any bromide herself to make her +sleep; she did not, on the other hand, propose to attempt to go to sleep +just yet, for she had matters to weigh and consider, and perhaps take +steps consequent on her consideration, before she went to sleep. Like +all practical and successful people, she believed intensely in prompt +action; it was better in most cases to decide wrongly than not to decide +at all, and she intended before she slept to-night both to decide, and, +as far as the lateness of the hour permitted, to act on her decision. +The proposition, the thesis of her decision, was very soon rehearsed; +indeed, that was the thing that she took for granted, but had now to +prove and demonstrate. There was a house, so to speak, which she was +under contract to build and have ready in a few weeks, it was her bricks +and mortar she had to procure, and have the house solidly built and +ready by the required date. And the house to be built, it is almost +superfluous to remark, was the house which Madge and Philip would occupy +together. + +Now, according to her lights, little lights, they may have been, "much +like a shade," she was convinced that Madge would be extremely happy in +the house she had to build, for she was a woman of sense, and fully +believed that everything that was sensible, even a sensible marriage, +was _ipso facto_ better than its corresponding equivalent with the sense +left out. Philip was in every way a suitable match; he was a gentleman, +he had all those solid qualities, the qualities that wear well, which +are so supremely important if they have to wear for the remainder of +mortal existence, and he was much devoted to Madge. Madge on her side +was much attached to him, and was quite certainly unemotional. It was +therefore only reasonable to suppose that her sudden ascent into these +aerial regions which had culminated in this evening's crisis were but a +Daedalus-flight; her wings, or the fastenings of them, would melt, and +she would, if she pursued the unwise course, come to earth with a most +uncomfortable and shattering bump. Evelyn, no doubt, possessed for her +something which she missed in Philip, or would have missed if she had +looked for it. But she had not looked for it, she had told him that she +brought him affection, esteem, respect, and he had been content. He was +content still, and Madge must be content too. + +Browning says that it is "a ticklish matter to play with souls," but +Lady Ellington did not stand convicted over this. She did not play with +them at all; with a firm, cool hand, she shoved them into their places. +For weeks Madge had accepted, if not with rapture, at any rate with a +very sincere welcome, the future that had been planned for her, and it +was an insanity now to revoke that for the sake of what might easily be +a moment's freak. That there was something very attractive about this +irresponsible boy with his brilliant talent and his graceful presence, +Lady Ellington did not for a moment deny, even when she was quite by +herself. But to plan a lifetime that merely rested on these foundations +was to build a house upon sand. Madge had fallen in love with externals; +it was impossible that she should be allowed to make her blunder--for so +her mother regarded it--irreparable, and it was the means whereby this +should be rendered impossible that Lady Ellington had now to determine. +And since she was quite firmly convinced of the desirability of this +end, she did not, it must be confessed, feel particularly scrupulous +with regard to means. + +All this time Lady Ellington's mind had not been only formulating but +also constructing, and her construction was now complete. Late though it +was, she drew her chair to the small writing-table, so conveniently +placed under the electric light, and wrote: + + DEAR MR. DUNDAS.--My daughter has told me, as indeed she was bound + to do, what took place this afternoon when you arrived unexpectedly + at Mr. Merivale's house and found yourself alone with her. I feel + of course convinced that you must be already sorry for having + allowed yourself to take advantage of my girl's accidental + loneliness in this way, but since I gather from her that Mr. + Merivale and I returned almost at that moment, I am willing to + believe that you would not have---- + +Lady Ellington paused a moment; she wished to put things strongly. + + --have continued to obtrude your presence and your speech on one to + whom it was so unwelcome. + + I have no desire to add to the reproaches I am sure you must be + heaping on yourself, and I will say no more on this subject. It is + of course impossible that my daughter should sit to you again, it + is equally impossible that you should write to her or attempt to + see her, since you cannot possibly have anything to say except to + reiterate your regrets for what you have done. These it is better + to take for granted, as I am perfectly willing to do. We both of us + forgive you--I can answer for her as completely as I can answer for + myself--with all our hearts, and will maintain, you may rest + assured, the strictest silence on the subject. + + I should like to have one line from you in acknowledgment of the + receipt of this.--Yours very truly, + +MARGARET ELLINGTON. + +This note was written with but few erasures, for it was Lady Ellington's +invariable custom to think her thoughts with some precision before she +committed them to paper. Yet, late as it had grown, she copied it out +afresh, put it in an envelope and directed it, and placed it on a small +table by the head of her bed, so that when her tea was brought in the +morning, it would be patent to the eyes of her maid. But, rather +uncharacteristically, she thought over what she had said in it as she +continued her undressing. Yet it was all for the good, likewise there +was no word in it that was not true. And she slept with a conscience +that was hard and clear and quite satisfied. For if one was doing one's +best for people, nothing further could be demanded from one. And that +she was doing her best she had no kind of doubt. Thus her mind was soon +at leisure to observe that it was impossible to put out the electric +light after getting into bed. It was necessary to light a candle first, +and she made a mental note to refuse to pay for candles in case they +were charged in the bill. + +Lady Ellington's postponement of the settling of the train by which she +and Madge should go up to town next day was due, as the reader will have +guessed, to her desire to get Evelyn's answer to her note before she +went. A glorious morning of flooding sunshine and a world washed and +renewed by the torrents of the day before succeeded the storm, and at +breakfast her plan of spending the morning in the forest, and going up +to London after lunch was accepted by Madge if not with enthusiasm, at +any rate with complete acquiescence. She of course must not know that +her mother had written to Evelyn; it was wiser also, in case she was +familiar with his handwriting, that there should be no risk run of her +seeing the envelope addressed by him in reply. A very little strategy, +however, would affect all this, and in obedience to orders, as soon as +Lady Ellington and Madge had started on their ramble this morning, her +maid took a cab to the Hermitage, bearing this note, the answer to which +she would wait for, and give it to her mistress privately. This seemed +to provide for all contingencies anyhow that could arise from this note +itself. Indeed, though there were dangers and contingencies to be +avoided or provided for before Madge would be safely Home--Lady +Ellington thought this rather neat--she felt herself quite competent to +tackle with them. Madge had declared she would take no step without the +initiative on the part of Evelyn, and after the really very carefully +worded note which he would receive this morning, it was not easy to see +what he could do. Luck, of course, that blind goddess who upsets all our +plans as a mischievous child upsets a chess-board on which the most +delicate problem is in course of solution, might bring in the unforeseen +to wreck everything, but Lady Ellington's experience was that Luck +chiefly interfered with careless people who did not lay their plans +well. She could not accuse herself of belonging to that class, nor in +fact would her enemies, if, as was highly probable, she had enemies, +have done so. + +It was therefore in a state of reasonable calm and absence of +apprehension that she came back from her long stroll in the forest with +Madge just before lunch. She had had a really delightful walk, and they +had talked over, without any allusion to the subject that really +occupied them both, the gospel of the simple life, as practised by +Merivale. Madge had not slept well; indeed, it would be truer to say she +had scarcely slept at all, and her face bore traces of the weary hours +of the night. But she too, like her mother, though for different +reasons, had no temptation to re-open the subject, simply because she +felt she could not stand any more just then, and it was something of a +relief to devote even the superficial activity of her mind to other +topics. Not for a moment did she doubt that Evelyn would write to her +asking to see her; he must indeed do that for his own sake no less than +hers, and though the waiting was hard enough, yet at the end of it there +shone so bright a light that even the waiting had a sort of luminous +rapture about it. So comforting herself thus, she responded to her +mother's bright, agile talk, and indeed took her fair share of +conversation. + +The answer had arrived when Lady Ellington reached home, and her maid +gave it her in her bedroom. It acknowledged the receipt of her note, as +she had asked, and which indeed was all she had asked. She should, +therefore, have been perfectly satisfied. Yet she was not quite; she did +not feel as secure as she could have wished. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +TENTH + + +It was some ten days after the events of the thunderstorm, and Evelyn, +who had returned to London the day after, was in his studio working at +the portrait of Philip. The last ten days had passed for him like an +evil dream--a dream, too, unfortunately from which there was no prospect +whatever of waking. Indeed, as the dream went on it seemed to gain in +its ghastly vividness; every day that passed repeated the effect of it, +and stamped its reality deeper. But with good sense that did him credit, +instead of brooding desolately over his lot, or driving himself half-mad +with the thought of Madge, he turned with a sort of demented fury to his +work, and day after day painted till he could no longer see, not leaving +off till his brain was dull and almost incapable of further thought. But +though nervous, excitable and highly-strung, he was luckily also very +strong, and believed that he was capable, at any rate, of going on at +this frightful high pressure anyhow till the marriage had taken place. +When that was accomplished, he felt that the tension of the suspense +would be lightened; he might himself, it is true, drop like a stone in +the sea, but the struggle would then be over, he would not battle any +longer to try to keep afloat. In the inside pocket of his coat he kept +the note that he had received from Lady Ellington; it was soiled and +wilted with much handling and re-reading, and simple and straightforward +(from a literary point of view) as it was, he had tried fifty +interpretations on each of those very intelligible sentences. But not +one contained a grain of comfort for him. + +But though the whole fibre of his spiritual being was in so great and +agonising a state of unrest, he found that his eye and his hand had lost +not one particle of their powers of vision and execution. Sometimes, it +is true, it was rather hard to get to work; it seemed scarcely worth +while putting in a light or a shadow, but when once he had begun there +was no abatement in the brilliance of his skill, and though he only felt +a vague, far-away satisfaction in what he was doing, he brought all his +keenness of observation, all his dexterity of handling to his work. +Again, when his sitters were there, there was the same merciful +necessity of normal behaviour, and probably there was only one person +who saw him during these days who suspected that there was anything +wrong. This was Philip. But of what was wrong he had not the faintest +inkling. + +Philip himself, so said the world in general, had become wonderfully +softened since his engagement. He had gained enormously in geniality, a +quality of which the world had not considered him particularly lavish +before, and he did not in these new days take himself quite so seriously +as he had been used to. Why he had fallen in love with Madge originally +nobody quite knew, for there was no very obvious common ground between +them. But the ways of love are past finding out, and even as when two +tiny carbon poles of an electric battery are brought near to each other +a light altogether disproportionate to their size illuminates the night, +so it was with Philip. And certainly now the miracle was easier of +explanation; there apparently had been in him the germ of a quite +different Philip to that which he showed the world--a Philip admirably +kind and gentle, the very man who would so easily fall in love with +anyone possessed of half Madge's perfectly obvious attractions. All this +was said in general talk, but in whispers it had begun to be said that +Madge was not so desperately in love with him, and for this Gladys +Ellington was not, as a matter of fact, directly responsible, though no +doubt she would have been if she had thought she would not be found out. +It was rather Madge's own manner which suggested it. She too, like +Philip, had been much humanised, coincidentally anyhow, with their +engagement; but later, during these last ten days in fact, she really +seemed to have hired a snail-shell and curled herself up in it. Her +trousseau--this alone was immaterial--did not seem to give her the +smallest pleasure, and yet her indifference to that was not the +indifference which might have been the fruit of her private intense +happiness, which could conceivably have made even these confections seem +tasteless. In fact, it was not only the trousseau that she appeared to +find tasteless; she found everything tasteless, and really, to judge +from her mode of behaviour when she was with Philip, you would have +thought that she was an icicle just being introduced to an eligible +snowflake. + +Philip on this particular day had sat for Evelyn for nearly a couple of +hours, grumbling at the length of his detention, but in a manner that +did not suggest active discontent. He intended, in fact, to give Madge +the picture on their wedding day, if it could be finished, and to +further that desirable object he was willing really to sit for as long +as Evelyn required. The latter, various and numerous as were the moods +to which he usually treated his sitters, seemed to-day to have gone +through them all; he was, in fact, more like himself than Philip had +lately seen him. + +"Until one really looks at a man's face," he had been saying, "one never +knows how ugly he is. I always used to think you passably good-looking. +But you are awful, do you know? Men's faces generally are like chests of +drawers--square, don't you know, and covered with knobs that suggest +handles. And you are balder than when I began to paint you." + +"I am sure I apologise. And do you really think you can finish it by the +twenty-eighth? I shall be immensely grateful if you can." + +"The twenty-eighth? Ah! yes, the happy day." + +Thereat another mood came over him, and for the spate of surprising +remarks which he had been pouring forth there was exchanged a frowning, +brush-biting silence. This lasted another twenty minutes, and Philip, as +thanks for his offerings on the altar of conversation, got only grunts, +and once a laboriously polite request to stand still. But eventually he +hit on a subject that produced a response. + +"And Madge's portrait?" he said. "Have you decided to yield to our +ignorance perhaps, but anyhow our desire, and consider it finished?" + +Evelyn stopped dead in the middle of a stroke, and a new and frightfully +disconcerting mood suddenly appeared to possess him. + +"How can you ask me if I yield," he said hotly, "when you have told me I +can't have any more sittings? I yield as a man yields who is pinioned +and hung. I only yield to force. As for the portrait, it is there, face +to the wall. I will not send it to you, but you may fetch it away +without opposition on my part. I never want to see it again. Oh! I make +one condition--it must never be exhibited." + +"Ah! my dear fellow," said Philip, "I cannot take it if you feel like +that about it." + +"Leave it then." + +Philip was very deeply hurt somehow by this. Evelyn's absolute +insistence on his taking it as a present from him had much touched him, +though he had tried to combat it. But this ending of the affair was +intolerable. He could not leave matters like this. And now while he was +debating what to do, Evelyn spoke again, resuming his painting with +rapid, unerring strokes. + +"I must say this, too," he said. "I had an inspiration for that portrait +quite unlike any I have ever had before. It is, even as it stands, my +masterpiece, but you--you and Miss Ellington anyhow--have prevented me +from completing what is my best, and would have been far better. Far +better? It would have been on a different plane altogether. I am sorry +if this hurts you, but it is only right you should know. I don't say it +is your fault; I don't say it is anybody's fault. But there the picture +stands; I give it you with all the completeness with which I originally +gave it you, and with all--all the best wishes." + +He paused a moment. + +"But I won't send it you," he said, "since I don't think it ought to be +sent. Yet take it with my love, my best love, Philip. And I should be +obliged if you would say no more at all about it. Turn your face a bit +more to the left, there's a good fellow; you have shifted slightly." + +He painted on for some little time in silence, and Philip, complying +with his request that nothing more should be said about it, answered his +next question, some common topic, and himself introduced another. But +all the time his thoughts were busy enough on the tabooed subject. For a +second time, as at the opera a few nights ago, the vague suspicion +crossed his mind that Evelyn was in love with Madge, and had somehow +betrayed this to her; but now, as then, he formulated this thought only +to give it instant dismissal. That being so, he was morally bound to do +Evelyn justice, to accept without either comment or reservation the fact +that he really required another sitting from Madge, and to do his +utmost, whatever her unwillingness and whatever the cause of it, to +make her sit to him again. Both the Philip known to the few intimates +and the Philip so much respected by the world at large had a very strong +sense of fairness, and the fair thing quite certainly was this. It was +impossible to deny an artist another sitting if he felt like this about +it; it was doubly impossible to deny it to a friend. Even if the picture +had been an order, a commission, it would have been but shabby +treatment, now that he knew how Evelyn felt about it, not to do his very +utmost to get Madge to give him another sitting; but the picture was not +that, it was a present, given too, as he had said, "with his love." He +could not really doubt that when it was put to Madge like this, she +would see it as he himself did. + +The task itself of talking to her on the subject, it was distasteful to +him, for she had been mysteriously indeed, but unmistakably in earnest, +about it a few nights ago at the opera. Whatever the cause (and he +consciously turned back from even conjecturing at the cause), she had, +so she thought, at any rate, an adequate reason for not wishing to +continue the sittings, even when the artist's point of view was +presented to her, and he foresaw that he might find himself in an +opposition to her that would be painful to both of them. Nor had the +change in her, which the world compared to the action of a snail +retiring into its shell, escaped him. She had been for the last ten days +or so reserved, silent, and apt to be startled. More than once he had +asked her if anything was wrong, and the vehemence of her assertion that +nothing was wrong had rather surprised him. But here, again, he had to +pull himself up, and studiously refrain from conjecturing that Evelyn +was in any way connected with any private worry of hers. Besides she had +said that nothing was wrong; he was bound to accept that. For this +reason he rejected the notion of consulting Lady Ellington about it; +that would imply a distrust of the girl herself. + +He was going to see her as soon as this sitting was over, and since he +had thoroughly made up his mind that he must do his best to persuade her +to do as he desired about the portrait, he determined not to put it off, +but to speak to her to-day. But he judged it better not to tell Evelyn +what he was going to do, because on the one hand his mission might fail +of success, and on the other because he had been asked to allude no +further to the question. So for the remainder of the sitting they +talked, neither quite naturally, since both were thinking of the one +subject that could not be talked about, on strictly public topics. But +every minute was an age of discomfort, and Philip, at any rate, was +heartily glad when it was over, and he was out again in the hot, sunny +streets. + +Madge scarcely knew how the days had passed since that afternoon in the +New Forest, for it seemed to her that all the values of life were +altered, as if a totally new scheme of things must be made, for that +which existed at present was not possible. Day after day, too, brought +the twenty-eighth nearer--that date before which something which would +upset and reverse her whole world must assuredly occur. For she was +pledged then to do that which she knew she could not do, the +impossibility of which was every hour more vividly impressed on her. She +had herself promised her mother to do nothing whatever, unless Evelyn +made some further advance; what she did not know was how very skilfully +he had been debarred from that. But already the promise she had herself +given had begun to lose for her its moral validity, it was only in a +second-hand sort of way that she considered it binding, for one thing +only she felt was really binding on her, and that the impossibility of +fulfilling her pledge to Philip. That was outside her power; by what +step she would make that known, she did not yet consider. A way must be +found; what the way was seemed to her, if she considered it at all, very +immaterial. + +For side by side with that impossibility, and not less securely throned, +was another certainty, namely, that Evelyn must repeat what he had said +before; no man could leave it like that. And in those days she knew what +it was to start and change colour when the door-bell rang, to frame any +excuse, or no excuse, to go downstairs and see what the post had +brought, to watch at balls and parties the arrival of fresh-comers, and +glance across the crowded rooms in a sort of yearning certainty that now +at last she would see one face among the crowd, which would come slowly +closer and closer through the throng, until it was by her. Then--even +the trivial, commonplace little details were imagined by her--he would +ask her for a dance, or take her out to some unfrequented room. Philip +at the time would probably be with her; he would certainly smile and nod +at Evelyn, and resign her to him for "just ten minutes." But the days +went on, and none of these visions were realised; he appeared no more at +houses where she had often seen him. Often, too, people asked her about +the progress of her portrait, and to these she replied that it was +finished. Finished! These moments were lit with a certainty and a sure +hope, but there were others, black ones. What if he had spoken without +thought, excitedly, carried away by some moment's passion, bitterly +regretted since? Supposing he did not really love her, supposing it had +been just the flame and the blaze of a moment. + +There was no preparation possible for the crash that was inevitable. No +gradual estrangement from Philip, ending in a quarrel, was to be thought +of; she could not scheme and soften things; the granite of the +_bouleversement_ could not be kneaded into dough. More than once he had +asked her if anything was the matter, and on the last occasion, as we +have seen, she had denied it with vehemence--the vehemence of one who is +sick with a deadly, devouring sickness, whose instinct, feverish and +irresistible, is to hold on to the last, affirming her health. But her +own vehemence had startled not only him, but herself, and she had vowed +to show more self-control, and exhibit that self-control in its most +difficult demonstration--merely that of appearing quite normal, and not +exercising or, indeed, needing any self-control at all. More especially +was this difficult when she was alone with him--the half-hinted caress, +the look of love in those honest eyes, had to be somehow telegraphed +back; some resemblance that would pass muster as a response had to be +sent by her. It was all so mean, and the only comfort, and that cold, +was that it could not now last long. For the one supreme impossibility +remained--she could not be at his side on the twenty-eighth. Some thing, +Fate or her own action dictated by it, would interfere with that, but +about it she felt a sort of cold irresponsibility. Meantime, since +responsibility was not as yet definitely fallen on her, the need for +normal behaviour was paramount. + +To-day Philip was coming to tea; he was going to return to dinner, and +they, with her mother, were going to the theatre. After that there was a +dance; from the hours between five and the small hours of the next day +she would scarcely be alone a moment. And it was in loneliness that she +could best bear the hopeless tangle--that tangle which, so it seemed to +her now, could never be unravelled, but must be cut with a knife. A +small knot more or less no longer made any difference, and it was with +apathy almost, certainly without strong feeling of any kind, that she +heard from Lady Ellington that she would perhaps be late for tea, and in +consequence that Philip and herself would be alone together. An hour or +two more of make-believe did not seem to her now to matter much; the +hours that there could be of that were definitely limited, and, since +limited, it was possible to deal with them. For it is only the endless +succession of impossible hours, this knowledge that they will continue +as long as life itself, that brings despair. But above all, till the +crash came, she must be normal. She must give no sign of the storm that +was raging within her, and though the depths and lowest abysses of her +nature were upheaved by wild billows yet somehow the surface must be +kept calm. It was one of the forces outside her own control which had +taken possession of her, and with a sort of shudder she thought of the +duck-and-drake discussions she had held with Evelyn about incontrollable +forces, making these things of vital import the subject for a jest and +an epigram. But she knew now, as she had not known then, what such a +force meant. + +This dismal drawing-room, with its frippery hanging over the window to +hide it from the gaze of the square, its grand piano, its window at the +opposite end, which commanded a small sooty yard! A hundred +drawing-rooms east and west of it were exactly like it, yet on this had +Fate--that cruel, velvet-pawed cat--pounced, selecting it at random, to +make it the scene of one of her mean little dramas, at which one cannot +laugh for fear of tears, at which one cannot cry because other people +laugh. And here Madge sat alone, Lady Ellington not having yet returned, +the silver urn occasionally lifting its lid with the infinitesimal +pressure of the steam beneath, with all the mocking accessories of +comfortable life round her, waiting for the inevitable explosion. It +might be to-day, it might be to-morrow, it might be any day up to the +twenty-eighth. But by that time it must have come; yet the same carpet +would be trodden on, the same pictures would cast incurious eyes on to a +human tragedy, the same _everything_ would preserve its mute, inanimate +composure. That composure she, too, had now to rival; she must be as +suitable as the sofa. + +Her greeting of him, anyhow, was good enough. + +"At last!" she said. "Philip, it is weeks since I set eyes on you. Where +have you been, and what have you done with yourself all this time? Now, +don't say it has only been business. I don't believe you do any, and I +shall send a detective to get on your track. Ah! you wouldn't like that, +I can see it; you gave what novelists call an involuntary shudder." + +Then she broke down a little. + +"Tea," she asked. "You like it weak, don't you?" + +Philip settled himself in the chair she had indicated. He, too, like +Madge, was inclined to temporise, though his reasons for so doing were +different, for his inevitable errand was unpleasant, and the present so +extremely the reverse. Her temporisation on the other hand, was that of +postponing the inevitable for the sake of the impossible. + +"Well, it is good anyhow to see you again," he said. "Yes, business +chiefly has stood in my way. But I won't be dishonest; I spent nearly +two hours this afternoon over the portrait." + +"What portrait?" asked Madge, with a swiftness that she could not help. +But she would gladly have recalled it. For the present, however, it +appeared that Philip did not notice her vehemence. + +"Mine," he said quietly. "I am sitting to Evelyn, you know. He hopes to +have it finished by the twenty-eighth. You shall see it then, but not +till then." + +"Yes, keep it for then," she said, again bracing herself to keep up some +sort of attitude which should be natural in a girl to a man she was +shortly going to marry. "It must come as a surprise to me, Philip. But +only tell me: it is good, isn't it? I shan't be disappointed?" + +Now, this portrait of himself seemed to Philip more magical work than +even that of Madge. He knew himself pretty well, but this afternoon, +when he was allowed to see it, he felt that Evelyn somehow must have +been inside him to have done that. Brilliant as Madge's portrait was +(the artist himself indeed considering it quite his high-water mark), it +was yet but a mood of Madge that he had caught so correctly and +delineated so unerringly--that mood of reassuring laughter at the +worries and the sorrows of life. But in his own portrait he felt that he +himself was there. + +"No, I promise you that you will not be disappointed," he said, "though +I daresay it will make you jump. It isn't on the canvas at all, it seems +to me; it is stepping right out of it. And there is there," he added, +"not only this poor business man, but the man who loves you. He has put +that in. My goodness, how could he have _known_ what that was like?" + +Madge gave a sudden little start, but recovered herself immediately. She +could not meet this seriously; it had to be laughed off. + +"Well, I don't know what it is like," she said, "because with all my +faults, I've really never loved myself. I never think of myself except +as rather a little brute. It's better to do that oneself, isn't it, not +to leave it to others. Not that it prevents them doing it also." + +Philip had possessed himself of Madge's left hand, the hand that he +never ceased to wonder at. It was always cool, never hot, never cold, +and the skin of it was like a peach. The fingers were long and tapered +to almond-shaped nails, and for all its slimness and delicacy it was yet +a strong hand. And mechanically she returned the touch of his, which +half unconsciously lingered at the base of the fourth finger as if +showing the place where so soon the plain circlet of gold would be. + +"Ah! it is always a pity if anybody thinks one a brute," he said. "It +often must happen, but I think one should try to make such occasions +rare, so long as one does not have to sacrifice principle to them. I +mean, if anyone thinks one a brute, and one can convince him of the +contrary, it is usually worth while." + +For a moment it flashed through Madge's brain what was coming. +Considering what her mind was full of, it was not surprising. And it +came. + +"I want to ask a favour of you, dear," he said. "I call it a favour +because it is a real favour--it implies your doing something that I know +you don't want to do. It also will make somebody cease to think you a +brute, and instead of sacrificing a principle in its performance--you +will satisfy one, and that a very good one, the principle of fairness." + +Madge had left the sofa where they were sitting together during this, +and simply in order to be doing something instead of inertly listening, +poured herself out another cup of tea. So her back was turned to Philip +when she replied: + +"You state it as if I couldn't help saying 'Yes,'" she said, her voice +trembling a little. "What is it, Philip?" + +"Merely this, that you give Evelyn another sitting," he said. "I had no +idea how strongly and keenly he felt about it till this afternoon. Shall +I tell you about it?" + +"Yes, do." + +"Well won't you come and sit here again?" + +She did not dare, for she felt too uncertain of herself, and as she +poured the milk into her tea, her hand was no longer master of itself, +and the saucer was flooded. + +"Ah! what a mess," she cried. "Go on, Philip." + +"He feels that you are treating him shabbily," he said. "Mind, he never +said that; he never would. But it was clear to me. He believes that his +portrait of you is the best piece of work he is ever likely to do, and +though I may disagree with him, that says nothing against his right to +his opinion, which is probably correct. Well, he wants one more +sitting----" + +"Did he say that this afternoon?" + +"No, but he did before, and this afternoon he told me I might fetch it +away if I liked, and he would offer no opposition, but that he would not +send it. I can't take it like that; neither you nor I can take it if +that is his feeling about it. It isn't as if I paid for it; it is a +present--a most generous, splendid present. So will you be very kind, +Madge, and though he bores you, just go back once? Indeed, it is only +fair that you should. After all, it is only for an hour or so, and +really, I don't believe he bores you much." + +Though in the next moment Madge thought of so much, the pause was not +long, for her thoughts flashed lightning-wise through her mind. First +came the dramatic wonder that it should be Philip--Philip of all people +in the huge world, who should be asking her to do this. If it had been +anybody else the thing would not have been so astounding, but it was he. +Then came the thought of her mother, and the promise she had given her. +Even before this that promise, set in the scales with larger issues, had +weighed light: now it just kicked the beam. But then, after that, and +stronger than all else, came the sense of solution, of a riddle +answered. How often had she puzzled over the manner in which it would +turn out that the twenty-eighth should be to her a day without +significance. Here was the answer, different from all her imaginings, +and told her by Philip himself. And of imaginings and puzzlings she had +had enough, and she did not put her brain to the task of imagining what +that sitting would be like, how he would speak, what he would say. +Simply, she was going to meet him again. And her voice when she answered +was perfectly calm, without vibration. She felt indeed now so certain of +herself that she came and sat by Philip again. + +"Yes, if he feels it like that," she said, "and if you feel it like +that, I will do as you wish. As you say, an hour or two doesn't matter +much. I will write to him; it had better be as soon as possible--to-morrow +if he has time. I have rather an empty day to-morrow." + +She got up again. + +"I will write now, I think," she said, "because I must eat a little, +just a little, humble pie, and as I have no relish for that, I will get +it done with as soon as possible. Now, what shall I say? Let me think." + +Her pen travelled with remarkable ease over the paper; the humble pie, +it appeared, was being consumed without much difficulty. Once only she +stopped for a word, then the scream of the quill underlined her own +name. + +"Will this do?" she asked, and read: + +Dear Mr. Dundas.--I feel that I have no right whatever, since you wish +me to give you another sitting, to refuse it. This has been pointed out +to me quite clearly by Philip, who is with me now, and I see that it is +not fair either on you or the portrait. I wonder if to-morrow would suit +you? I could come any time between three and six. If three will do, pray +do not trouble to answer, and I will assume the affirmative. + +Philip's habit of considering business letters led him to pause. + +"Yes, that is _amende honorable_," he said at length. "It will do +excellently. But if you are bored, Madge, why not take your mother with +you, or I would meet you there?" + +"Oh, no, he would think it so odd," she said lightly. "You see, I am +accustomed to go alone. And he has told me that he hates other people in +the studio while he is painting." + +She directed the note and rang the bell. + +"There is one thing more, Philip," she said, "and that is that I don't +want my mother to know I am going. You see, I told her, too, that I was +not going to sit again, and if one goes back on one's word, well, the +fewer people who know about it the better. Everyone hates a changeable +person who doesn't know her own mind." + +Philip willingly gave his assurance on this point, for though it seemed +to him rather a superfluous refinement, he was, on the whole, so pleased +to have met with no opposition that he was delighted to leave the matter +settled without more discussion. Then, since it was already time for him +to go home and dress for the early dinner before the theatre, he got up. + +"Ah! Madge," he said, lingering a moment. "You don't know, and you can't +guess, how divinely happy you make me. In the big things I knew it was +so, but in little things it is so also. You are complete all through." + +This struck her like a blow. She could scarcely look at him, it was even +harder to return his caress. + +"Oh, don't think too well of me," she said, "and--and go now, or you +will be late." + +Then, after he had gone, Madge felt tired as she had never felt tired +before. The fact that the tension was over showed her what the tension +had been; she had struggled, and while she struggled the need for effort +had postponed the effect of weariness which the effort produced. She +could go on living her ordinary life, and had not this occurred she +could still have gone on, but it was only now, when the need for going +on was over, that she knew how utterly weary she was. Yet with the +weariness there was given her a draught of wine; it would no longer be +"to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow," but to-morrow only. She knew as +surely as she knew how tired she was, that to-morrow would see her with +him, and the rest she was content to leave; no imagination or picturing +of hers was necessary. It would be as it would be. + +After Philip had left her, there was still half an hour before she need +go to dress, but the thought that her solitude might be disturbed here +by anyone who called, or by her mother, who would be returning any +minute, caused her to go upstairs to her own room, where, till the +advent of her maid at dressing-time, she would be alone. + +Thus it was scarcely a minute after her lover had gone that she went +upstairs. As she mounted the steps to the storey above, she heard the +front-door bell ring, congratulated herself on having just escaped, and +went more softly, and closed the door of her bedroom very gently behind +her. + +The ring at the bell which she had heard was her mother returning. The +footman who had taken Madge's note, who had also just let Philip out, +let her in, having laid down the note in question on the hall table, +meaning to put a stamp on it, and drop it into the letter-box. Madge's +handwriting was unmistakable; it was brilliantly legible, too, and the +address leaped from the envelope. + +Now, Lady Ellington, as both her friends and her possible enemies would +have at once admitted, was a very thorough woman. She did not, in fact, +when she desired or designed anything, neglect any opportunity of +furthering that desire or design, or on the other hand, neglect to +remove any obstacle which might possibly stand in the way of its +realisation. She had excellent eyes, too--eyes not only of good sight, +but very quick to observe. Yet even a short-sighted person might easily +have involuntarily read the address, so extremely legible was it. And +Lady Ellington, with her excellent sight, read it almost before she knew +she had read it. The footman in question had meantime just gone out to +deliver her order to the chauffeur for the motor this evening, and +before he had got back again into the hall, Lady Ellington was half-way +upstairs with the note in her hand. + +William--the footman--had a week before received a month's warning on +the general grounds of carelessness and inattention. Whether justified +or not before they were justified now, for on re-entering he thought no +more at all about the note he had to post, but stared at himself in a +looking-glass, and hoped the next butler might be more agreeable to a +sensitive young fellow, than the one he at present served under. He was +a student of the drama, and smiled to himself in the glass, detecting in +that image a likeness to Mr. George Alexander. So he smiled again. And +as befits so vacant-minded a young man, he vanishes from this tale after +a short and inglorious career. His career he himself regarded in a +different fashion. + +Lady Ellington went into the drawing-room on her way upstairs. Philip, +she knew, since she had passed him fifty yards from the house had gone, +and Madge, so it appeared, had gone too. But the tea was still there. +For herself, she had already had tea, but she took the trouble to rinse +out a cup, pour a little boiling water into it, and proceeded to lay the +note face upwards over it. Thorough in every way, she took the +precaution of sitting close to the table, ready at any moment to snatch +the note away and be discovered sipping hot water--a practice to which +she was known to be addicted, and to which she attributed much of her +superlative health and freedom from all digestive trouble. How well +founded that belief was may be judged from the fact that she digested +without qualms of any kind what she was doing now. The good purpose that +lurked behind assimilated apparently any meanness. In fact, the good +purpose was of the nature of the strongest acid; the meanness ceased to +exist--it was absorbed, utterly eaten away. + +She was in no hurry, for there was still plenty of time before she need +dress, and she waited till the flap of the envelope began to curl back +of its own accord as the gum that fastened it was made fluid again by +the steam. This happened very soon, because it was not yet really dry. +Then, taking precaution against the sheet inside being touched by it, +she drew it out and read. The clear, neat handwriting--she had taken +great pains with Madge's early tuition in this art--was as intelligible +as print, and she only needed to read it through twice before she placed +it back again in its envelope, pressed the flap back, and left it to +cool and dry. Yet during this very short process her own ideas were also +cool and dry, and the reasoning sound and effective. So she put a stamp +on the envelope, and went downstairs herself, and dropped it into the +letter-box. + +That was necessary, since in her note Madge had stated that she would be +at the studio at three unless she heard to the contrary. Therefore there +was no object to be gained in merely sequestrating the note, since Madge +proposed to go there unless stopped. For Lady Ellington knew well that +no plan, however well-founded, could be quite certain of success; +uncertainty, the possibly adverse action of Fate might work against it, +and thus to let this note go--of which she had mastered the +contents--was to provoke an accident the less, since, on her present +scheme, she had not stopped it. For the fewer dubious things one does on +the whole, the less is the risk. It is the unfortunate accident of guilt +which in nine cases out of ten hangs a man. So though she had been +guilty--in a way--when she wrote to Evelyn, implying Madge's +acquiescence in her letter, she had the more excellent reason now, +especially since she had completely mastered the contents of this note, +in not taking the more questionable step of stopping it. For she knew +for certain, and at the moment did not require to know more, the +immediate movements of the enemy; if Madge heard nothing, she would go +to the studio to-morrow at three. But no one under any circumstances +could prevent her mother making her appearance there too. + +Again, it is true, some sort of reply might come. But the fact of a +reply coming was equivalent to Evelyn's saying that he could not be +there at three to-morrow, which rightly she put down as being a +negligible contingency. And in this case again, if Lady Ellington could +not keep watch over Madge's movements during the next ten days she felt +she would be really ashamed of herself. And as she had never been that +yet, she saw no reason why she should begin now. She was probably +right--the chances were immensely at this moment in favour of her not +beginning to be ashamed of herself. For the beginnings of shame are +searchings of the heart; Lady Ellington never searched her heart, she +only did her best. + +The evening passed in perfect harmony; and though she had a good deal to +think about, she could yet spare time to be characteristically critical +about the play. That was easy, since it was a very bad one, and the +deeper consolations of her brain were devoted all the time to certain +contingencies. This note had been posted by half-past seven; it would be +received that night. Supposing there was a reply to it, it was almost +certain that the answer would come at the second morning post, the one +that rapped towards the end of breakfast time. If so, and if that reply +was received by Madge, she had merely, in the most natural manner +possible, to suggest complete occupations for the day, challenging and +inquiring into any other engagement. But she did not seriously expect +this--no reply was the almost certain rejoinder. In this case, Lady +Ellington would be quite unoccupied after lunch. + +The ramifications went further. Madge had consented to give Mr. Dundas +another sitting after she had declared she would not take the next step. +It was better, therefore, to meet guile with guile, and not suggest a +suspicion or possibility of it till the last moment. She would go out to +lunch to-morrow herself, with regrets to Madge, leaving her free to +spend the afternoon as she chose, without asking questions. She herself, +however, would leave lunch early, and manage to be at Mr. Dundas's by +three o'clock, five minutes before perhaps; it was always well to be on +the safe side. + +Lady Ellington's applause at the end of the second act was rather +absent-minded. Her thoroughness made her examine her own position a +little more closely, and there was one point about it which she did not +much like, namely, the fact that she had written to Mr. Dundas from +Brockenhurst, implying Madge's concurrence in what she said. It would be +rather awkward if any hint of that ever reached Madge; it really would +be difficult to explain. Explanation, in fact, was impossible, since +there was none. But it followed from this, as a corollary, that he must +not see Madge alone; the chances then were enormous of the whole thing +coming out. Yet how again would she be able to explain her own presence +at Evelyn's house in the King's Road at three o'clock that afternoon? It +was childish to say she happened to be passing. Then a solution occurred +to her--one which was extraordinarily simple, and extremely +probable--Philip had told her that Madge was sitting again. So probable, +indeed, was this, that she could, almost without effort, persuade +herself that he had done so. + +Lady Ellington was happily unconscious at this moment what an extremely +tangled web she was weaving, and how impossible it was for her to +disentangle it, for not having had the privilege of overhearing Madge's +conversation with Philip, she had, by no fault of hers, no idea that he +was pledged to secrecy. True, he had not actually mentioned, a thing +which he might be expected to have done, the fact that Madge was going +to sit again, but no doubt a little well-turned conversation might make +him do so. Madge, at the end of the third act, was talking to a +neighbour in the stalls, and she herself turned to Philip. + +"A stupid act, rather," she said. "Those two laid their plans so badly." + +Then, with a sudden sense of the inward humour of her words: + +"It isn't enough to open people's letters," she said, "you must hear +their conversations too. I should really have made an excellent villain, +if I had studied villainy. I should have hidden behind the curtains, and +under the tables, and listened at key holes, for the private +conversations of other people, and carefully looked in such places, and +hung a handkerchief over the key-hole before indulging in any of my +own." + +Philip laughed. + +"Yes, I think you would be thorough in all you did," he said, "and +certainly, whatever your line was, I should 'pick you up' first, as +schoolboys say, to be on my side." + +"Ah! I am certainly on your side," said she. "Now, what have you done +with yourself all day? I like to hear always exactly what people have +done. A few weeks of what people have done gives you the complete key to +their character." + +"Is that why you ask?" said he. + +"No, because I know your character. I ask merely from interest in you." + +"Well, I rode before breakfast," said he, "and got down to the city +about half-past ten. I worked till half-past two, dull work rather--but, +by-the-bye, hold on to your East Rand Mining, I think they are going +better--then I ate three sandwiches and a piece of cake; then I sat to +Evelyn for two hours, then I went round to see Madge, dressed, dined, +and didn't think much of the play." + +"And your portrait?" asked Lady Ellington. "Is it good?" + +"Ah! all he does is good," said Philip. "A man like that cannot do a bad +thing. But it is more than good. It's Mary Jane's top-note." + +"I thought Madge was his top-note," said Lady Ellington. + +"Well, I think he has gone a semitone higher," said he. "Of course I am +the worst person to judge, but it seems to me that he is even more sure +in this than he was in her portrait. Haven't you seen it?" + +Lady Ellington was quite quick enough to catch at this. + +"No, but I should so much like to," she said. "Do you think he would let +me see it?" + +"I'm sure he would." + +Philip paused a moment. + +"Send him a note, or I will," he said. "I shouldn't go to-morrow, if I +were you, because I know he is busy." + +"Ah! what a pity," said Lady Ellington, lowering her voice a little. "I +have nothing to do to-morrow afternoon." + +"I know he is busy," repeated Philip. "He told me so." + +"And Madge's portrait," she said, "when shall we see that? It is quite +finished, is it not?" + +Suddenly the preposterous idea occurred to Philip that he was being +pumped. No doubt it was only Madge's rather ridiculous request that her +mother should not know that she was going to sit again that suggested +it, but still it was there. On this point also he had given his promise +to her, and he went warily in this time of trouble. + +"I fancy he is going to work a little more at it," he said, anxious to +tell the truth as far as possible. "Indeed, he told me so to-day. But he +said that if I sent for it in a couple of days it would be ready for me +to take." + +It was quite clear, therefore--indeed, the letter that had so +providentially come into her hands told her that--that Philip knew that +Madge was going to sit again to-morrow. The letter anyhow had told her +that she was going to sit again; Philip's suggestion that she herself +should not go to see his portrait to-morrow was quite sufficiently +confirmatory of the rest. He had not told her, it is true, that Madge +was going to do this, but it would answer her purpose well enough. There +was only one thing more to ask. + +"I think Madge said she would not sit for him again," she observed. + +"Yes, I know she did," said he, "because I was the bearer of that +message from her. I thought it was a mistake, I remember, at the time." + +It was on the tip of Lady Ellington's tongue to say, "And have told her +so since," but she remembered how terribly this would fall below her +usually felicitous level of scheming. So, as the curtain went up at this +moment, she turned her attention to the stage. Had it not gone up, she +would have diverted the talk into other channels; the raising of the +curtain was not a deliverance to her. + +"Let us see what these second-rate schemers make of it all," she said. + +The act was played to a tragic end, and Philip helped her on with her +cloak. + +"No, they committed an initial fault," she said; "they didn't lay their +original schemes well enough." + +But though the play was a disappointment, she pondered over it all the +way home. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +ELEVENTH + + +Madge lunched alone next day, a thing that seldom happened to her and a +thing that was always in a childish way rather a "treat." For in order +to counteract the natural tendency of mankind to gobble over the +solitary meal, or else to eat nothing at all, it was her custom to bring +some book down with her, prop it up against the mustard-pot, and intend, +anyhow, to read slowly and to eat slowly. These sensible results seldom +happened, since, as a matter of fact, the result was that she read two +pages of her book, and then took a dozen rapid mouthfuls. And to-day not +even that result was attained, for she read nothing, not even opening +the book she had brought down with her, and ate hardly more. For in +spite of all that lay before her, the rupture with Philip, his +inevitable pain and sorrow, his natural and justified indignation and +contempt of her, all of which were scarcely faceable if she faced them +only, in spite, too, of all that her mother would feel and no doubt say, +in spite of the fear she felt in the face of that, in spite of all that +the world in general would say, she was too happy to read, and too happy +to eat. For the birthday of her life, she knew, had come: this +afternoon, in an hour or two, she would be face to face with the man who +loved her, the man she loved, and in front of that tremendous fact, the +fact that swallowed up the rest of the world in a gulp, nothing else +could really count for anything. Everything else was like minute type of +some kind, while in the middle was just the one sentence, in huge, +glowing capitals. + +Everything had fallen out so conveniently, too: Lady Ellington had told +her at breakfast that she was going to be out for lunch, and engaged +after lunch, and she did not inquire into Madge's plans at all. She had +received no reply to her note to Evelyn, and the very fact that there +was none seemed to bring her into more intimate relations with him. Then +after lunch she had to change to her white evening dress, over which +she put a long dark cloak, her maid arranged her hair, for it was best +to go complete, and she took with her, in case of need, the scarlet +opera cloak. And all this preparation was so much joy to her, she felt +in her very bones that it was while he was looking at her dressed thus +that he first knew he loved her, and thus dressed she would come back to +him to-day. Above all, the long riddle of these days was solved now; +here was the answer, she was the answer. + +Yet though all her heart leaped forward, it did not accelerate her +actual movements; the four-wheeler also was rather slow, and it was some +ten minutes after three when she arrived at the door of the studio in +the King's Road. Just beyond it was drawn up a motor-car, beside which +stood a footman. As she stepped out of her cab, he went to the door of +the motor and opened it. And within a yard or two of her stood her +mother. + +Instantly all the passion and love in Madge's heart was transformed into +mere resolve, for she knew that a struggle, the matching of her will +against her mother's lay in front of her. But all the strength of her +love was there; it lost nothing of that. Lady Ellington had crossed the +pavement more quickly than she, and stood in front of the door. + +"Where are you going to, Madge?" she asked. + +Madge turned not to her but to the footman, holding out a florin. + +"Pay my cab, please," she said. + +Then she turned to her mother. + +"I have made an appointment to sit to Mr. Dundas this afternoon," she +said. "It is absurd for you to tell me that you didn't know that. But I +ask you how you knew?" + +"Philip told me," said Lady Ellington. + +"Philip!" cried Madge. Then she controlled that sudden ebullition, for +every fibre within her knew that her incredulity, which only +half-believed this, had done him wrong. + +So, calming herself, she spoke again. + +"I don't believe that," she said. + +That was the declaration of war; quiet, tranquil, but final. The point +between the two was vital, it reached downwards into the depths of +individuality where compromise cannot live, being unable to breathe in +so compressed an atmosphere. And Lady Ellington knew that as well as +Madge; there was war. She and her daughter stood in unreconcileable +camps, diplomacy was dumb, the clash of arms could alone break the +silence. She pointed to the motor-car, for the modernity of setting was +inevitable, even though primeval passions were pitted against each +other. + +"It does not make the slightest difference whether you believe it or +not," she said quietly. "Get into the motor, as you have sent your cab +away." + +Madge seemed hardly to hear this. + +"Philip never told you," she repeated, "because he promised me he would +not." + +Lady Ellington judged that it would be mere waste of energy or +ammunition to contest this, for it was now immaterial to her campaign. +She realised also that she needed all the energy and ammunition that she +possessed to enable her to carry out her main movement. She knew, too, +that Madge had long been accustomed to obey her mere voice; the instinct +of obedience to that was deeply rooted. But how wholly it was uprooted +now she did not yet guess. + +"Get into the motor, Madge," she said. "Are we to wait all day here?" + +Then Madge came a step nearer. + +"Yes, that used to frighten me," she said, "but now it does not. And +Philip never told you what you said he did. Who was it, then? Nobody +else knew." + +Again she took one more step closer. + +"Mother, have you been tampering with my letters?" she asked. "For how +could you have known otherwise? It is ridiculous to say that Philip told +you. What else have you done, I wonder? Now, stand away, please, and let +me ring the bell. Or do you propose that you and I, you and I, should +fight like fishwives on the pavement?" + +The old instinctive right of fighting for one's own, obscured by +centuries of what is called civilisation, obscured, too, in Madge's own +instance by years of obedience, broke out here. She was herself, and +nobody else was she. It did not matter one penny-worth who stood between +her and the bell; if all the apostles and prophets had stood there she +would have fought them all. And Lady Ellington knew that this particular +engagement was lost; the bell would be rung. But her plan was not +defeated yet, so far as she knew. What she did not know was that mere +scheming, mere brain-wrought work on her part, had no chance at all +against its adversary. No clever person can understand that until it is +enacted under his eyes, and the cleverer he is, the less he will +conceive it possible that his spider-weavings can fail to hold their +fly. But when passion comes along, it is a bumble-bee that blunders +through them all, without knowing that there has been any opposition. + +"I certainly do not resemble a fishwife," she said, "nor have I any +intention of acting as one. There is the bell--ring it." + +Madge looked at her for a moment in wide-eyed astonishment, feeling sure +that by some trick--anyhow, something underhand--her mother had got her +knowledge. + +"And for my mother to do that!" she said. + +Lady Ellington may or may not have felt the depth of the well from which +this sprang. In any case it was beside her purpose to waste a volley on +what was merely rhetorical. And the faint tinkle of the electric bell +was the only response. + +A maid-servant opened the door. + +"Miss Ellington," said Madge, and passed in. But the door was not so +open to the other. + +"Mr. Dundas said he was at home only to Miss Ellington, ma'am," said +she. + +"Then kindly tell Mr. Dundas that Lady Ellington has come with her," +said she. + +The fight was in grim earnest now. Both Madge and her mother were +disposed to fight every yard of ground. But the former had some remnant +of duty, of compassion left. Horrible to her as had been the scene on +the doorstep, convincing as it had been to her of some breach of faith, +of honour, on her mother's part, she did not want to expose that. + +"Ah! is it wise of you?" she said. "Had you not better go home? You can +do no good, mother." + +"We will go upstairs," said Lady Ellington. + +The studio was at the top of the house, and two landings had to be +passed and three staircases surmounted before it was reached. On the +second of these Madge had fallen back behind her mother, throwing the +dark cloak which she wore on to a chair. The scarlet opera cloak she had +on her arm. The maid had preceded them both, and threw the door of the +studio open without announcement of names. Lady Ellington entered +first, a moment afterwards came Madge, dressed as for the portrait, with +the cloak over her arm. + +Now Evelyn had been through an emotional crisis not less vital than that +of Madge. Indeed, the changes that had passed for him since he had +received her note were wider than was anything that had come to her. She +had passed only from the uncertainty as to the manner in which he and +she would come face to face again; while he had passed from the +certainty that all was over to the certainty that all was yet to come. +Yet when the door opened and Lady Ellington appeared, he felt as if +death on the white horse was there. But a moment afterwards, before he +had even time to greet her, came life with the eyes he loved and the +face and form that he loved. And he stood there silent a moment, looking +from one to the other. + +"I learned that my daughter was going to sit to you again, Mr. Dundas," +said Lady Ellington, "and I came with her, met her here rather, in order +to forbid it. After what you said to her on that day down in the New +Forest, it is not conceivable that she should sit to you again. You must +have known that. Yet you allowed her to come here, alone, for all you +knew. I only ask you if you think that is the act of a gentleman?" + +Evelyn flushed. + +"When Miss Ellington proposed it, how could I refuse?" he said quickly. +"She had decided to trust me, and from the bottom of my heart I thanked +her for it, and I should not have been unworthy of her trust. Ever since +you wrote to me from Brockenhurst----" + +Madge turned to him. + +"My mother wrote to you from Brockenhurst?" she asked. + +"Yes; surely you knew--you must have known!" he said. + +"I had not the smallest idea of it till this minute. What did she say?" + +Lady Ellington lost her head a little. + +"The letter I wrote you was private," she said; "it was meant only for +your eye." + +"It concerns me," said Madge, tapping the table with a nervous, +unconscious gesture. "I must know." + +Evelyn and she looked at each other, and it was as if each caught some +light from the other's eyes. + +"Yes, that is true," said he. "Lady Ellington forbade me to write or +attempt an interview with you, and I gathered that you acquiesced in +this. I gathered, as was natural, that you were deeply offended----" + +He stopped, for the light that shone in Madge's face was that which was +never yet on sea or land, but only on the face of a woman. And Lady +Ellington's presence at that moment was to them less than the fly that +buzzed in the window-pane, or the swallows that swooped and circled +outside in this world of blue and summer. The secret that was breaking +out was to them a barrier impenetrable, that cut off the whole world, a +ring of fire through which none might pass. Dimly came the sounds of the +outer world to them there that which his eyes were learning, that which +her eyes were teaching, absorbed them almost to the exclusion of +everything else. Lady Ellington, perhaps, had some inkling of that; but +she did not yet know how utterly she had lost, and she manned, so to +speak, her second line of defence. The first had been lost; she was +quick enough to see that at once. + +"So since Madge was going to give you this sitting," she said, "it was +only reasonable that I should accompany her, to prevent--to prevent," +she repeated, with biting emphasis, "a recurrence of what happened when +you, Mr. Dundas, last found yourself alone with my daughter." + +Then Madge lifted her head a little and smiled, but she still looked at +Evelyn. + +"Ask how she knew," she said, "that I was going to sit to you. No, it +does not matter. I am ready, Mr. Dundas, if you are." + +She turned and mounted the platform where she had stood before. + +"The cloak, shall I put that on?" she asked. "It is by you there." + +Lady Ellington was at length beginning to feel and realise the sense of +her own powerlessness; they did not either of them seem to attend to her +remarks, which she still felt were extremely to the point. + +"You have not done me the favour to answer me, Mr. Dundas," she said. + +Evelyn was already moving the easel into position, and he just raised +his eyebrows as if some preposterous riddle had been asked him. + +"No, I have no answer," he said. "It all seems to me very just. You came +here to prevent a repetition of--of what occurred when I was last alone +with Miss Ellington. Was not that it?" + +Then suddenly Madge laughed; her head a little back, her eyes +half-closed, and Evelyn, looking at her, gave a great triumphant +explosion of sound. + +"That is it--that is what I have been trying for!" he cried. "I never +quite got it. But now I can." + +He had been painting before they came in, and he picked up the palette +and dashed to the canvas. + +"Hold that if you can for half a minute!" he cried. "I don't ask for +more. Look at me; your eyes have to be on me. Ah, it is a miracle!" + +He looked once and painted; he looked and painted again. Then for the +third time he looked, and looked long, but he painted no more. + +"I have done it," he said. + +There was a long pause; he put his palette down again, and looked at +Madge, as she stood there. + +"Thank you," he said. "That will do." + +Then Lady Ellington spoke. + +"It was hardly worth my daughter's while to come here for half a +minute," she remarked, "or mine either." + +Evelyn turned to her; he was conscious of even a sort of pity for her. + +"It was not worth your while," he said, "because your presence here +makes no difference. When I said your daughter might have trusted me and +come here alone, I did not know what I know now. I love her. Madge, do +you hear?" + +She gave one long sigh, and the scarlet cloak fell to the ground. But +she did not move. + +"Oh! Evelyn," she said. + +Lady Ellington rustled in her chair, as she might have rustled at a +situation in a play that interested her. She knew what had happened, but +she had not yet fully realised it. But her cool, quick brain very soon +grasped it all, and began forging ahead again. There were a hundred +obstacles she could yet throw in the way of this calm, advancing force. + +"And which of you proposes to tell Philip?" she said. + +The effect of this was admirable from her point of view. It brought +both of the others back to earth again. Evelyn winced as if he had been +struck, and Madge came quickly off the platform. + +"Philip?" she cried. "Ah, what have we done? What have we said? Philip +must never know. We must never tell him. Ah, but next week!" + +The one thought that for this last ten minutes had possessed her, had +possessed her to the exclusion of everything else. There had been no +Philip, no world, no anything except the one inevitable fact. But Lady +Ellington's well-timed and perfectly justifiable observation made +everything else, all the sorrows and the bitternesses that must come, +reel into sight again. But she turned not to her mother, but to Evelyn. + +"Oh, poor Philip!" she cried. "He has always been so good, so content. +And Mrs. Home---- Evelyn, what is to be done?" + +She laid her hand in appeal on his shoulder; he took it and kissed it. + +"Leave it all to me," he said. "I will see that he knows." + +"And you will tell him I am sorry?" she said. "You will make him +understand how sorry I am, but that I could not help it?" + +"Ah, my darling!" he cried, and kissed her. + + * * * * * + +Now, Lady Ellington had seldom in all her busy and fully-occupied life +felt helpless, but she felt helpless now, and two young folk, without a +plan in their heads while she was bursting with excellent plans, had +brought this paralysis on her. She also had very seldom felt angry, but +now it would not be too much to say that she felt furious, and her sense +of impotence added to her fury. She got out of her chair and took Madge +by the shoulder. + +"You ought to be whipped, Madge!" she cried. + +The girl held out her hand to her. + +"Ah, poor mother!" she said. "I had forgotten about you, because I was +so happy myself. I am sorry for you, too. It is awful! But what am I to +do?" + +"You are to come home with me now," she said. + +But Madge no longer looked to her for her orders. It was for this cause, +after all, that a woman also should leave her father and mother, and +her allegiance was already elsewhere. + +"No; you had better wait a little," said Evelyn, as her glance appealed +to him. "There are things we must talk about at once, things that you +and I must settle." + +Madge took this; this came from the authentic source. + +"I am not coming home yet," she said to her mother. + +Then Lady Ellington used unnecessary violence; the door banged behind +her. But again her quick, cool brain was right in deciding not to stop, +to wrangle, to expostulate, though a woman more stupid than she might +have done so. Had she been less wise, she would have made a scene, have +talked about the Fifth Commandment, have practically forced Madge, as +she could no doubt have done, to come with her. But she was clever +enough to see that there was no use in that. The fat was in the fire, so +why pretend it was not? She could no doubt delay the actual frizzling +for an hour or a day, but where was the use? If anything could still be +done, the scene of the operations was not here. But she did not believe +that it was all up yet, though here a stupider woman might, perhaps, +have arrived at more correct conclusions. She still clung to her +plotting, her planning, as if plans ever made even steerage-way against +passion. And even for this forlorn hope she had to think, and think +hard, whereas, those she had left behind her in the studio did not have +to think at all. But her destination, anyhow, was clear enough; she had +to go to see Philip. What exactly she should say to him was another +question; that had to be thought out while the motor pursued its +noiseless, shifting way through the traffic, steering, as a fish steers +upstream, avoiding obstacles by a mere turn of the fin, imperceptible to +the eye as was the movement of the steerage-wheel. + +But as she went, she thought heavily. Her whole plans up till now had +broken down completely. A very short survey of the last hour or two was +sufficient to convince her of that, and, once convinced, it was contrary +to her whole nature to waste a further ounce of thought on them. The +flaws there had been in them she momentarily deplored; they might +obviously have been better, else they would not have failed, but to +deposit even a regret over them was mere misuse of time. They were +discarded, as an old fashion is discarded, and the dressmaker who +attempts to revive it is a fool. Lady Ellington certainly was not that, +and as the motor hummed eastwards towards the City she cast no thought +backwards, since this was throwing good brain-power after bad, but +forwards. In half an hour she would be with Philip; what was to be her +line? But, puzzle as she might, she could find no line that led +anywhere, for at the end of each, ready to meet her on the platform, so +to speak, stood Evelyn and Madge together. + +Lady Ellington was going through quite a series of new sensations this +afternoon, and here was one she had scarcely ever felt before--for in +addition to her impotence and her anger, she was feeling flurried and +frightened. She could not yet quite believe that this crash was +inevitable, but it certainly threatened, and threatened in a toppling, +imminent manner. And thus all her thinking powers were reduced to mere +miserable apprehension. + +She had guessed rightly that Philip would still be in the City, and +drove straight to his office. He was engaged at the moment, but sent out +word that he would see her as soon as he possibly could. Meantime, she +was shown into a room for the reception of clients, and left alone +there. In the agitation which was gaining on her she had a morbid +sensitiveness to tiny impressions, and the trivial details of the room +forced themselves in on her. It was a gloomy sort of little well set in +the middle of the big room, with its rows of clerks on high stools with +busy pens. The morning's paper lay on the table. There was an empty +inkstand there also, and a carafe of water with a glass by it. A +weighing machine, with no particular reason to justify its existence, +stood in one corner; against the wall was an empty book-case. The Turkey +carpet was old and faded, and four or five mahogany chairs stood against +the wall. Then, after ten minutes of solitary confinement here, the door +opened and Philip came in, looking rather grave as was his wont, but +strong and self-reliant--the sort of man whom anyone would be glad to +have on his side in any emergency or difficulty. One glance at her was +sufficient to tell him that something had happened, no little thing, but +something serious; and though he had intended to propose that they +should go to his room, he shut the door quickly behind him. + +"What is it?" he said. "What has happened? Is it--is it anything about +Madge?" + +"Oh! Philip, it is too dreadful," she began. + +Philip drummed on the table with his fingers. + +"Just tell me straight, please," he said, quite quietly. "Is she dead?" + +Lady Ellington got up and leaned her elbow on the chimney-piece, turning +away from him. + +"I have just come from Mr. Dundas's studio," she said. "Ah, don't +interrupt me," she added, as Philip made a sudden involuntary +exclamation--"let me get through with it. I left Madge with him. They +have declared their love for each other." + +For a moment or two he did not seem to understand what she said, for he +frowned as if puzzled, as if she had spoken to him in some tongue he did +not know. + +"I beg your pardon?" he asked. + +Lady Ellington's own most acute feelings of rage, indignation, +disappointment, were for the moment altogether subordinated by her pity +for this strong man, who had suddenly been dealt this shattering, +paralysing blow. If he had raged and stormed, if he had cursed Madge and +threatened to shoot Evelyn, she would have felt less sorry for him. But +the quietness with which he received it was more pathetic, all strength +had gone from him. + +"What do you recommend me to do?" he asked, after a pause. + +"Ah, that is what I have been trying to puzzle out all the way here," +she said. "Surely you can do something? There must be something to be +done. You're not going to sit down under this? Don't tell me that! Go to +the studio, anyhow--my motor is outside--storm, rage, threaten. Take her +away. Tell him to her face what sort of a thing he has done!" + +Philip still exhibited the same terrible quietness, unnatural, so Lady +Ellington felt it, though she was not mistaken enough to put it down to +want of feeling. The feeling, on the other hand, she knew was like some +close-fitting, metal frame; it was the very strength and stricture of it +that prevented his moving. Then he spoke again. + +"And what has he done?" he asked. "He has fallen in love with her. I'm +sure I don't wonder. And what has she done? She has fallen in love with +him. And I don't wonder at that either." + +Now the minutes were passing, and if there was the slightest chance of +saving the situation, it had to be taken now. In a few hours even it +might easily be too late. + +"Just go there," she said. "I know well how this thing has shattered +you, so that you can hardly feel it yet; but perhaps the sight of them +together may rouse you. Perhaps the sight of you may stir in Madge some +sense of her monstrous behaviour. I would sooner she had died on her +very wedding-day than that she should have done this. It is indecent. It +is, perhaps, too, only a passing fancy, she----" + +But here she stopped, for she could not say to him the rest of her +thought, which was the expression of the hope that Madge might return to +her quiet, genuine liking for Philip. But she need scarcely have been +afraid, for in his mind now, almost with the vividness of a +hallucination, was that scene on the terrace of the house at Pangbourne, +when she had promised him esteem, affection and respect, all, in fact, +that she knew were hers to give. But now she had more to give, only she +did not give it to him. + +"I am bound to do anything you think can be of use," he said, "and, +therefore, if you think it can be of use that I should go there, I will +go. I do not myself see of what use it can be." + +"It may," said Lady Ellington. "There is a chance, what, I can't tell +you. But there is certainly no chance any other way." + +Then his brain and his heart began to stir and move again a little, the +constriction of the paralysis was passing off. + +"But if she only takes me out of pity," he said, "I will not take her on +those terms. She shall not be my wife if she knows what love is and +knows it for another." + +Then the true Lady Ellington, the one who had been a little obscured for +the last ten minutes by her pity for Philip, came to the light again. + +"Ah, take her on any terms," she cried. "It will be all right. She will +love you. I am a woman, and I know what women are. No woman has ever yet +made the absolute ideal marriage unless she was a fool. Women marry more +or less happily; if Madge marries you, she will marry extremely happily. +Take my word for that. Now go." + +Through the City the tides of traffic were at their height; all down the +Strand also there was no break or calm in the surge of vehicles, and the +progress of the motor was slow and constantly interrupted. Sometimes for +some fifty or a hundred yards there would be clear running, and his +thoughts on the possibilities which might exist would shoot ahead also. +Then came a slow down, a check, a stop, and he would tell himself that +he might spare his pains in going at all. True, before now it had more +than once occurred to him as conceivable that Evelyn was falling in love +with Madge, but on every occasion when this happened he had whistled the +thought home again, telling himself that he had no business to send it +out on this sort of errand. That, however, was absolutely all the +preparation he had had for this news, and he had to let it soak in, for +at first it stood like a puddle after a heavy storm on the surface of +his mind. This was an affair of many minutes, but as it went on he began +to realise himself the utter hopelessness of this visit which Lady +Ellington had recommended. They might both of them, it was possible, +when they saw him, recoil from the bitter wrong they were doing, the one +to his friend, the other to her accepted lover; but how could that +recoil remain permanent, how could their natural human shrinking from +this cruelty possibly breed the rejection of each by the other? However +much he himself might suffer, though their pity for him was almost +infinite, though they might even, to go to the furthest possible point, +settle to part,--yet that voluntary separation, if both agreed to it, +would but make each the more noble, the more admirable, to the other. Or +Madge again alone, in spite of Evelyn, might say she could not go back +on her already plighted troth, and express her willingness to marry him. +She might go even further, she might say, and indeed feel, that it was +only by keeping her word to him that she could free her own self, her +own moral nature, from the sin and stain in which she had steeped it. +Loyalty, affection, esteem would certainly all draw her to this, but it +was impossible that in her eyes, as they looked their last on Evelyn, +there should not be regret and longing and desire. Whether he ever saw +it there himself or not, Philip must know it had been there, and that at +the least the memory of it must always be there. + +How little had he foreseen this or anything remotely resembling it on +that moonlight night. She promised to give him then all that she was, +all that she knew of in herself, and it was with a thrill of love, +exquisite and secret, that he had promised himself to teach her what she +did not know. It should be he who would wake in her passion and the fire +and the flower of her womanhood, and even as he had already given +himself and all he was to her, so she, as the fire awoke, should find +that precious gift of herself to him daily grow in worth and wonder. It +was that, that last and final gift that she had promised now, but not to +him. And with that given elsewhere, he felt he would not, or rather +could not, take her, even if it was to deliver her soul from hell +itself. + +Then (and in justice to him it must be said that this lasted only for a +little time), what other people would say weighed on him, and what they +would say with regard to his conduct now. And for the same minute's pace +he almost envied those myriad many to whom nothing happens, who know +nothing of the extremes of joy, such as he had felt, or the extremes of +utter abandonment and despair, such as were his now. Assuredly, in the +world's view, it was now in his power to do something to right himself, +to make himself appear, anyhow, what is called a man of spirit; he could +curse her, he could strike him; he could make some explosion or threaten +it, which would be hard for either of the two others to face. Madge had +sat to Evelyn alone, she had often done that, Evelyn was a friend of +his; and here he could blast him, he could make him appear such that the +world in general would surely decline the pleasure of his acquaintance. +Madge again, if he was minded on vengeance, how execrable, how rightly +execrable, he could make her conduct appear. There was no end to the +damage, reckoning damage by the opinion of the world, that he could do +to both of them. All this he could easily do; the bakemeats for the +marriage-table were, so to speak, already hot--they could so naturally +furnish the funeral-feast, as far as the world was concerned, of either +Evelyn or Madge. The whole thing was indecent. + +Step by step, punctuated to the innumerable halts of the motor-car, the +idea gained on him. Between them there had been made an attempt to wreck +him; wreck he was, yet his wreck might be the derelict in the ocean on +which their own pleasure-bark would founder. At that moment the desire +for vengeance struck him with hot, fiery buffet, but, as it were, +concealed its face the while, so that he should not recognise it was the +lust for vengeance that had thus scorched him, and, indeed, it appeared +to him that he only demanded justice, the barest, simplest justice, such +as a criminal never demands in vain. It was no more than right that +Evelyn should reap the natural, inevitable harvest of what he had done, +and since Madge had joined herself to him, it must be to her home also +that he should bring back the bitter sheaves. Indeed, should Philip +himself have mercy, should he at any rate keep his hand from any deed +and his tongue from any word that could hurt them, yet that would not +prevent the consequences reaching them, for the world assuredly would +not treat them tenderly, and would only label him spiritless for so +doing. For the world, to tell the truth, is not, in spite of its twenty +centuries of Christianity, altogether kind yet, and when buffeted on one +cheek does not as a rule turn the other. More especially is this so when +one of its social safeguards is threatened; it does not immediately +surrender and invite the enemy to enter the next fort. And the +jilt--which Madge assuredly was, though perhaps to jilt him was akin to +a finer morality than to go through with her arranged marriage--is an +enemy of Society. Male or female, the jilt, like the person who cheats +at cards, will not do; to such people it is impossible to be kind, for +they have transgressed one of Society's precious little maxims, that you +really must not do these things, because they lead to so much worry and +discomfort. Wedding-presents have to be sent back, arrangements +innumerable have to be countermanded, subjects have to be avoided in the +presence of the injured parties. + +It was the unworthier Philip, as he drove to Chelsea, who let these +thoughts find harbourage in his mind. But somewhere deep down in his +inner consciousness, he knew that there was something finer to be done, +something that the world would deride and laugh at, if he did it. How +much better he knew to disregard that, and to be big; to go there, to +say that his own engagement to Madge was based on a mistake, a +misconception, to accept what had happened, to tell them, as some inner +and nobler fibre of his soul told him, that his own personal sorrow +weighed nothing as compared with the more essential justice of two who +loved each other being absolutely free, however much external +circumstances retarded, to marry. He was capable even in this early +smart of conceiving that; was he capable of acting up to it? + +He was but twenty doors from the studio in King's Road when the finer +way became definite in his mind, and he called to the chauffeur to stop, +for he literally did not know if he could do this. But he realised that +otherwise his visit would be better left unpaid; there was no good in +his going there, if he was to do anything else than this. Then he got +out of the car. + +"You can go home," he said to the chauffeur. + +The man touched his cap in acknowledgment of the tip that Philip gave +him, waited for a lull in the traffic, and turned. Philip was left alone +on the pavement, looking after the yellow-panelled carriage. + +Then he turned round quickly; his mind was already made up; he would go +there, he would act as all that was truly best in him dictated. But as +he hesitated, looking back, two figures had come close to him from a +door near, hailing a hansom. When he turned they were close to him. + +His eyes blazed suddenly with a hard, angry light; his mouth trembled, +the sight of them together roused in him the full sense of the injury he +had suffered. + +"Ah, there you are!" he cried. "I curse you both; I pray that the misery +you have brought on me may return double-fold to you!" + +Evelyn had drawn back a step, putting his arm out to shelter Madge, for +it seemed as if Philip would strike her. But the next moment he turned +on his heel again, and walked away from them. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +TWELFTH + + +MRS. Home was walking gently up and down the terrace in front of the +drawing-room windows at her son's house above Pangbourne. The deep heat +of the July afternoon lay heavily on river and land and sky, for the +last fortnight, even in the country, had been of scorching sort, and the +great thunderstorm which, ten days ago, had been as violent here as in +the New Forest, had not sensibly relieved the air. Philip had not been +down for nearly a month, and his mother, though she knew nothing about +gardening (her ideal of a garden-bed was a row of lobelias, backed by a +row of calceolarias, backed by a row of scarlet geraniums), felt vaguely +that though she did not at all understand the sort of thing Philip +wanted, he would be disappointed about the present result. For to-day +she had received a telegram from him--he telegraphed the most +iniquitously lengthy and unnecessary communication--saying that he would +arrive that evening. Surely a postcard even the day before would have +conveyed as much as this telegram, which told her that he was coming +down alone, that he wished a reply if anyone was staying with her, and, +if so, who, that he was leaving Madge in London, and that Evelyn, who +had proposed himself for this last Saturday till Monday in July, was not +coming. Also--this was all in the telegram for which a postcard the day +before could have done duty--Gladys Ellington and her husband, who were +to have spent the three days with them, were unable to come, and he +supposed, therefore, that his mother and he would be alone. The little +party, in fact, that had been arranged would not take place; he himself +would come down there as expected, but nobody else. + +To Mrs. Home this was all glad news of a secret kind. She had seen so +little of Philip lately, and to her mother's heart it was a warming +thing to know that he was to spend the last Sunday of his bachelor life +with her, and with nobody else. To say that she had been hurt at his +wishing the family into which he was to marry being present on these +last days before he definitely left his mother to cleave to his wife +would be grossly misinterpreting her feeling; only she was herself glad +that she would have him alone just once more. For the two had been not +only mother and son, but the most intimate of friends; none had held so +close a place to him, and now that Mrs. Home felt, rightly enough, that +henceforward she must inevitably stand second in his confidence, she +was, selfishly she was afraid but quite indubitably, delighted to know +that they were to have one more little time quite alone. All that was to +be said between them had already been said, she had for herself no last +words, and felt sure that Philip had not either, and she rehearsed in +her mind the quiet, ordinary little occupations that should make the +days pass so pleasantly, as they had always passed when they two were +alone together. Philip would get down by tea-time on Saturday, and was +sure to spend a couple of hours in the garden or on the river. Then +would follow dinner out on the terrace if this heat continued, and after +dinner she would probably play Patience, while Philip watched her as he +smoked from a chair beside her observing with vigilant eye any attempt +to cheat on her part. Mrs. Home's appetite for cards was indeed somewhat +minute, and if after twenty minutes or so Miss Milligan, unlike a +growing girl, showed no signs of "coming out," she would, it must be +confessed, enable her to do so by means not strictly legitimate. +Sometimes one such evasion on her part would pass unnoticed by Philip, +which encouraged her, if the laws of chance or her own want of skill +still opposed the desired consummation, to cheat again. But this second +attempt was scarcely ever successful, she was almost always found out, +and Philip demanded a truthful statement as to whether a similar +lamentable indiscretion had occurred before. When they were alone, too, +Philip always read prayers in the evening, some short piece of the +Bible, followed by a few collects. This little ceremony somehow was more +intimately woven in with Mrs. Home's conception of "Philip" than +anything else. It must be feared, indeed, that the dear little old lady +did not pay very much attention either to the chapter he read or the +prayers he said, but "Philip reading Prayers" was a very precious and a +very integral part of her life. His strong, deep voice, his strong, +handsome face vividly illuminated by the lamp he would put close to him, +the row of silent servants, the general sense of good and comforting +words, if comfort was needed, words, anyhow, that were charged with +protection and love, all these things were a very real part of that +biggest thing in her life, namely, that she was his mother, and he her +son. Her son, bone of her bone, and born of her body, and how dear even +he did not guess. + +Sunday took up the tale that was so sweet to her. He would be late for +breakfast, as he always was, and very likely she would have finished +before he came down. But she never missed hearing his foot on the +polished boards of the hall, and if he was very late she would have rung +for a fresh teapot before he entered the room, since she had a horror, +only equalled by her horror of snakes, of tea that had stood long. Often +he was so late that his breakfast really had to be curtailed if they +were to get to church before the service began, for they always walked +there, and her mind was sometimes painfully divided as to whether it +would not be better to be late rather than that he should have an +insufficient breakfast. She had heard great things of Plasmon, and a +year ago had secretly bought a small tin of that highly nutritious +though perhaps slightly insipid powder, of which she meant to urge a +tablespoonful on Philip if he seemed to her not to have had enough to +eat before he started for church, since apparently this would be the +equivalent of several mutton chops. But the tin had remained unopened, +and only a few weeks ago she had thrown it away, having read some case +of tinned-food poisoning in the papers. How dreadful if she meant to +give him the equivalent of several mutton chops, and had succeeded only +in supplying him with a fatal dose of ptomaine! + +Then after the walk back through the pleasant fields there would be +lunch, and after lunch in this July heat, long lounging in some +sheltered spot in the garden. Tea followed, and after tea Philip's +invariable refusal to go to church again, and her own invariable +yielding to his wish that she should not go either. That again was an +old-established affair, uninteresting and unessential no doubt to those +who drive four-in-hand through life, but to this quiet old lady, whose +nature had grown so fine through long years of speckless life, a part +of herself. He would urge the most absurd reasons; she would be going +alone, and would probably be waylaid and robbed for the sake of her +red-and-gold Church-service; it threatened rain, and she would catch the +most dreadful rheumatism; or life was uncertain at the best, and this +might easily be the last Sunday that he would spend here, and how when +she had buried him about Wednesday would she like the thought that she +had refused his ultimate request? This last appeal was generally +successful, and it was left for Mrs. Home to explain to their vicar, who +always dined with them on Sunday, her unusual absence. This she did very +badly, and Philip never helped her out. It was a point of honour that +she should not say that it was he who had induced her to stay away, and +his grave face watching her from the other side of the table as she +invented the most futile of excuses, seemed to her to add insult to the +injury he had already done her in obliging her to invent what would not +have deceived a sucking child. + +Then on Monday morning he would generally have to leave for town very +early, but if this was the case, he always came to her room to wish her +good-bye. And her good-bye to him meant what it said. "God be with you, +my dear," was it, and she added always, "Come again as soon as you can." + +All these things, the memory of those days and hours which were so +inexpressibly dear to her, moved gently and evenly in Mrs. Home's mind, +even as the shadows drew steadily and slowly across the grass as she +walked up and down awaiting his arrival. And if sadness was there at +all, it was only the wonderful and beautiful sadness that pervaded the +evening hour itself, the hour when shadows lengthen, and the coolness of +the sunset tells us that the day, the serene and sunlit day, is drawing +to a close. That the day should end was inevitable; the preciousness of +sunlit hours was valued because night would follow them, for had they +been known to be everlasting, the joy of plucking their sweetness would +have vanished. And the same shadowed thought was present in Mrs. Home's +mind as she thought how the evening of her particular relationship to +Philip was come; all these memories, though dear they would always be, +gathered a greater fragrance because in the nature of things they must +be temporary and transitory, even as the memory of childish days is +dear simply because one is a child no longer. While childhood remained +they were uncoloured by romance, the romance the halo of them only +begins to glow when it is known that they are soon to be at an end. + +Yet Mrs. Home would not have had anything different; that her relation +to Philip must fade as the day-star in the light of dawn, she had always +known. Even when the day-star was very bright and the dawn not yet +hinted in Eastern skies, she knew that, and now when the whole East was +suffused with the rosy glow, she would not have delayed the upleap of +the resplendent sun by an hour or a minute. For old-age unembittered was +her's, and in the completeness and fulness of Philip's manhood, not in +keeping him undeveloped and unstung by the sunlight, though through it +was flung bitter foam of the sea that breaks forever round this life of +man, she realised not herself only but him most fully and best. She +would not retain him, even if she could; he had got to live his life, +and make it as round and perfect as it could be made. It was her part +only to watch from the shore as he put out into the breakers, and wish +him God-speed. Yet now, as far as she could forecast, no breakers were +there, a calm sunny ocean awaited him; there was but the tide which +would bear him smoothly out. How far he would go, whether out of sight +of the land, where she strained dim eyes after him, or whether, so to +speak, he should anchor close to her, she did not know. He had now to +put out; once more they--he and she alone--would play together on the +sands, but each would know--he very much more than she, that they played +together for the last time. After this he must, as he ought, take +another for his playmate. And if at the thought her kind blue eyes were +a little dim, it was the flesh only that was weak. With all her soul she +bade him push out, and if to herself she said: "Oh, Philip! must you +go?" all in herself that she wished to be reckoned by, all that was +truly herself, said "God-speed" to him. + +The gardeners at Pangbourne Court had been startled into dreadful +activity that day. "The master," it was known, would be down for this +Sunday, but "the master" by himself was a much more formidable affair +than he with a party. As Philip had conjectured at Whitsuntide, there +would come a break in the happy life of the garden, and it was quite +indubitably here now. The hot and early summer which had produced so +glorious an array of blossom in that June week now exacted payment for +that; roses which should have flowered into August had exhausted +themselves, the blooms of summer were really over, while the autumn +plants were still immature. All this was really not the fault of the +gardeners, but of the weather; but, as has been said, they were stirred +into immense activity by the prospect of Philip's arrival, since if the +beds presented a fair show, he would be more likely to be lenient to +other deficiencies. But Mrs. Home, as she went up and down the paths +waiting for his arrival, saw but too clearly that things were not quite +as they should be. A dryness, an arrest of growth, seemed to have laid +hands on the beds; it was as if some catastrophe had stricken the +vegetable kingdoms that withered and blighted them. The grass of the +lawn, too, lacked the vividness of the velvet that so delighted Philip's +London-wearied eye--there were patches of brown and withered green +everywhere, instead of the "excellent emerald." Yet, perhaps, surely +almost, he would not vex himself with that. Three days only intervened +between now and the twenty-eighth; he would have no fault to find with +anything in the sunlight of life which so streamed on him. + +She was passing between two old hedges of yew, compact and thick of +growth as a brick wall, and impervious to the vision. Her own path lay +over the grass, but on either far side of these hedges was a gravel +walk, and half-way up this she heard a footstep sounding crisply. For +one moment she thought it was Philip's, and nearly called to him, the +next she smiled at herself for having thought so, for it altogether +lacked the brisk decision with which he walked, and she made sure it was +one of the gardeners. It went parallel with her, however, in the same +direction, and when she got to the end of her own yew-girt avenue, she +met the owner of the footstep in the little sunk Alpine garden, which +was Philip's especial delight. It was he. She had not recognised the +footstep, and though when they met, her eyes told her that this +certainly was her son, it was someone so different from him whom she +knew that she scarcely recognised him. + +Misery sat in his face, misery and a hardness as of iron. He often +looked stern, often looked tired, but now it seemed as if it was of +life that he was tired, and his whole face was inflexible and +inexorable. It was not the sort of misery that could break down and sob +itself into acquiescence, it was the misery of the soul into which the +iron has entered. And mother and son looked at each other long without +speaking, he with that face and soul of iron, she with a hundred terrors +winnowing her. He had not given her any greeting, nor she him. Then she +clasped her hands together in speechless entreaty, and held them out to +him. But still he said nothing, and it was she who spoke first. + +"Philip, what is it?" she said. "Whatever it is, tell me quickly, my +dear. I can bear to know anything. I cannot bear not to." + +He looked away from her for a moment, striking the gravel with his +stick. + +"Madge?" said Mrs. Home. "Is she dead?" + +Yet even as she spoke she knew it was not that. That, even that, would +not have made Philip like this. He would have come to her to be +comforted; it was not comfort that he asked for. + +"No, she is not dead," he said. "I wish she was. She has betrayed me and +thrown me over. She is probably by this time married to Evelyn Dundas!" + +He paused a moment. + +"That is what has happened," he said; "and, here to you and now, mother, +I curse them both. I met them together yesterday, I cursed them to their +faces. There is nothing I will not do that can damage them in any way. I +will ruin him if I can, and I will wait long for my vengeance if need +be. I tried to forgive them, I tried to go to the house and tell them +so, but I could not. I don't forgive them, and if for that reason God +does not forgive me what I have done amiss, I don't care. I would +forgive them if I could; I can't. If that is wrong I can't help it. It +is better you should know this at once. I am sorry if it hurts you, but +there is no manner of use in my trying to 'break it' to you, as they +call it. Break it! It is I who am broken!" + +Then all the tenderness of maternity, all the years of love between her +and Philip, the complete confidence which had forged so strong and +golden a chain between them, rose in Mrs. Home's mind and sent to her +lips the only answer she could make. Sorrow for him, sympathy with him, +of course he took for granted; there was no need to speak of things +like these. + +"Ah, dear Philip, unsay that, unsay that!" she cried. "Whatever happens +to one, it is impossible that you should feel that!" + +He looked at her with the same glooming face. + +"I don't unsay it," he said, "I don't unsay one single word of it. In +proportion as both of them were dear to me, so is that which has +happened detestable to me. I don't want to talk about it--there is no +use in that. I have got to begin my life again; that is what it comes +to, and I have to begin it on a basis of hate and utter distrust. Two +people who were the friends of my heart, people whom I could have +trusted, so I should have thought, to the uttermost verge of eternity, +have done this." + +Then all his bitterness, and there was much of that, all his resentment +and anger, all his love gone sour, rose in his throat. + +"For what guarantee have I now," he cried, "that everyone else whom I +trusted will not behave to me like that? You, mother, you, what plans +and plots may you not have got against me? It is all very well to say +that you cannot, that you are my friend. But what is my experience of +friends? They are those who know one best, and can thus stab most +deeply. God defend me from my friends--I would sooner shake hands with +my enemies. Ah! I forgive them, for I might know that they were enemies; +but, fool that I was, I never guessed that my friends were but enemies +who sat at my table. They ate my food--I wish it had choked them; they +drank my wine again and again--I wish I had poisoned it. For they have +poisoned me, they have made my life impossible. Ah, don't say I shall +get over it! That is silly. How can I get over it? For if I could, I +should not say these things to you. I should be silent, I hope, and +trust to what is called the healing hand of Time. But there are certain +things Time never heals. One of them is the infidelity of those whom one +thought were friends." + +He was speaking quickly now, the bile of bitterness overflowed. + +"Friends!" he said. "Madge and Evelyn and I were friends. But they two +have done this accursed thing. And if I have another friend in this +world, I shall now expect him to believe the chance word of any lying +tongue. Apart from you, I have one friend left, and if Tom Merivale told +me to-morrow that I had cheated at cards, and that in consequence he +declined the pleasure of my further acquaintance, I should not be +surprised. I believe nothing good of my friends, and I believe less harm +of my enemies! They, anyhow, can hurt me less. I have had but four +friends in my life, and yet even with four, fool that I was, I counted +myself rich in them. Two have gone, and there are just two people in +this world whom I hate. Till yesterday there were none." + +Mrs. Home laid her hand timidly on his arm. + +"Philip, dear Philip," she said, "is there any good in saying these +things? Does it help in any way what has happened, or does it help you?" + +"No, it does no good," said he. "I don't want to do any good. I just +choose to say what I am saying, and what I say, I assure you, is no +exaggeration of what I feel--it does not even do justice to what I feel. +One thing I have misstated, or it was but a mood of the moment. I said I +was broken; I am nothing of the sort. I never did a better day's work +than to-day. But I don't want to say these things again, and I have no +intention of doing so. I beg you also never to refer to them. But I +choose just this once to say what my feeling towards them is. I tried, +indeed I tried my best, to forgive them, but I can't. I can no more now +conceive forgiving them than a blind man can conceive the colour of that +rose. I loved them both, and in proportion as my love for them was +strong, so is my hate for them." + +He paused a moment. + +"That is all," he said. "I wanted you to know that, and to be under no +misconception as to what I felt. Let us never talk of either of them +again. I have already given all necessary orders in London, and all I +have to do here is to send back all wedding presents. I will do that +to-night." + +He looked at her a moment as she stood there with hands that trembled +and eyes that were dim, pitying him to the bottom of her kind, loving +soul, but imploring him, so he felt, not to be like this. And the pity +reached and touched him, though the entreaty did not. + +"Poor mother," he said. "I am sorry for you, indeed I am that. We have +not kissed yet, or shaken hands." + +But Mrs. Home, gentle and loving and pitiful as she was, could not do +quite as he asked, though her hands and her lips yearned for him. + +"No, Philip," she said; "but with whom do I shake hands, and whom do I +kiss? You, the Philip who is my son, or the man who has said this? +Indeed, dear, I know you well, and it is not you who have spoken." + +He looked at her steadily. + +"Yes, it is I who have spoken," he said. "This is now your son, the man +who has said these things. Do you cast me off, too?" + +Unfair, unjust as the words were, she felt no pang of resentment with +him, telling herself that he was not himself. And, whatever he was, her +relationship to him, she knew, could never be altered. If he was lying +in the condemned cell for some brutal murder, whatever he had done or +been could never make any difference to that. He knew that, too, his +best self knew it, and it was to his best self she spoke. + +"You know I can never cast you off," she said, "and those were wild +words but they are unsaid. Here is my hand, my darling, and here are my +lips. You want me also never to say any more about it. I will not; but I +must say this about you--that you will not always feel like this. I know +you will not. And when the change comes, tell me. You cannot take that +belief away from me." + +He kissed her, holding both her hands in his, but his face did not +relax. + +"Poor mother!" he said again. + +They walked back towards the house together, down the grassy walk +between the yew hedges, where Mrs. Home had first heard his footstep, +and Philip, according to contract, began at once to speak of other +things. Dismal though this was, it was still perhaps better than +silence; whatever had happened, the present was with them, and the +present had to be lived through; ordinary human intercourse had got to +be continued. Whether in the immediate future he would go abroad, and +try by the conventional prescription of travelling to find, if not +relief, at any rate the sense of unreality that travelling and change +sometimes give, he had not yet determined, though the idea had occurred +to him. He was still really incapable of making plans at all, he could +not yet face the future, but, so far as he had considered it, he was not +disposed to think that he would try it. For idleness to a man accustomed +to lead a very busy life, a life, too, which every day demands +concentration of thought and decisiveness of action, is in itself +irksome, even though the panorama of foreign lands and skies is drawn by +before him. To such a mind, even when it is at peace with itself, a +holiday is generally only a means of recuperation, and the recuperation +effected, such a man frets to be at work again, and to him now, with +this dreadful background always with him, the idea of travel appealed +very little. He would be better, so he thought, back at work, and the +harder and more continuously he worked, the less intolerable, perhaps, +would be the burden which he carried about with him. Truly, we make our +own heaven and hell, and since the kingdom of God is within us, so also +within us are the flames of the nethermost pit. + +But in those three minutes as they went back again to the house, Mrs. +Home made her resolve. Whatever it cost her, and however difficult each +minute might be, however much she might long herself to go and weep, or +better still, to weep with him, she would do her very best to act as he +had wished, and never in thought or word dwell on the past. A tragedy +had happened; but it was necessary to go on, to begin life again, not to +sit and bewail; nothing was ever cured, so she told herself, by thinking +of what might have been avoided, if things had been different. But +things were this way and not otherwise, and that which had not been +avoided had already become part of the imperishable past, the hours of +which are, indeed, reckoned up, but do not perish, since it is of them +that the present is made. + +She left him after this to go round the garden; he had already sent for +the head-gardener, who was waiting as bidden at the front door, in some +trepidation of mind. Mrs. Home hated to have to scold and find fault, +she hated also that Philip should do it, and she went indoors instead of +accompanying him. There was no sweeter and kinder soul in this world +than she, and even now, when her heart bled for her son, no +vindictiveness or desire for revenge on those who had made him suffer so +had place in her mind. But forgiveness could not be there yet, and it +was the most she could do to resolve not to think about either Madge or +Evelyn. Philip's sorrow and what faint consolation or palliation she +could bring to that was enough to fill her thoughts; the authors of his +sorrow she wished as far as was humanly possible to root out from her +mind altogether. Resentment would do no good to anybody and only hurt +herself, and since she knew that she could not wholly forgive, since +there was no sign of sorrow or regret on their parts, the best thing she +could cultivate in their regard was oblivion. + +She went, therefore, first to the smoking-room, where there hung the +little water-colour sketch that Evelyn had once made of her; a +photograph of him also stood there, and this she took with her also. The +frames were her own, but she took the pictures out of each. Then, going +to her bedroom, she unlocked her jewel-case and took from it the pearl +brooch he had given her. No anger was in her mind; and even as she +handled those dear and familiar things, she detached it from what she +was doing. Then making a packet of them, she sealed and directed it to +him. There was no need that any word of hers should go with it; indeed, +there was no word she could say to him. + +But though she had resolved not to think about either of them, that was +one of those resolutions which in the very nature of things cannot be +kept, and afterwards when this business of returning his gifts was over, +and she sat down with her piece of needlework, she could not keep her +mind off them. But now, so far from vindictiveness being there, it was +rather pity, pity deep and sincere, that filled it. Terrible though the +practical result had been, bitter and deadly as was the blow dealt at +the man whom she loved better than anyone else in the world, what other +course had been open? Madge and Evelyn had found they loved each other, +and that being so, how infinitely more wretched must any attempt to +disregard or stifle that have proved! The thought of the girl as +Philip's wife secretly loving another was a situation which she knew +well was far more terrible than this, far more rotten, far more +insecure. There the foundation of their lives would be founded on a lie, +their house would be built over a volcano which might break out and +overwhelm with fire and burning the fabric that was reared upon it. At +the best, what happiness could there be in it, and how could it be a +home in any true sense? And since they two loved, what essential good +was served by their waiting to join themselves together? Convention +certainly would be shocked at the suddenness of it all, but Mrs. Home +found as she thought about it that she, personally, was not. For what +was Madge to do? Go home and continue to live with her mother? She +herself knew Lady Ellington fairly well, and she knew that no girl could +possibly stand it. + +So her resolve not to think about them at all had ended in this, that +she thought about them with only pity for what in the inscrutable +decrees of God had, so to speak, been forced on them. That necessity she +deplored with all her heart, for it was pierced as it had never been +pierced before with sorrow for her son, but even in these early hours of +her knowledge of the tragedy, she could not blame them. Then, +half-ashamed of her infirmity of purpose, she went quietly to the +post-box, and took out the package she had just done up, and instead of +sending it, locked it up. + +She did not see Philip again till dinner-time, and then this ghastly +game of make-believe that nothing was wrong began again. She saw well +what he felt, that as no words could possibly ameliorate the situation, +it was best that no words should pass concerning it, and she guessed +also with a woman's intuition that drops unerringly on to the right +place, even as a bird drops on to a twig, that any expression of pity or +sympathy were, above all, what he could not stand. He could bear no +hand, however gentle, to touch the wound, but winced at even the thought +of it. So they spoke just of all those things except one, which they +would naturally have spoken about, and they said the same things on such +subjects as they would naturally have said. The drought, the Japanese +war, the irritating particles of dust from wood-pavements, all the +topics of the day were there, and there were no silences, not even any +racking of the brain on the part of either to think what should be said +next. That dreadful mechanical engine of habit was in full work, and +just as Philip would have maintained normality though the City was in a +depressed and depressing state, and just as Mrs. Home would have been +quite herself to her guests though some below-stairs crisis was most +critical between domestics, so now when the crisis was such that nothing +could have touched her more keenly, it was easy, but dismal, to +maintain the ordinary forms of life. Servants certainly, that relentless +barometer of local disturbances, saw nothing that night which indicated +trouble; no storm-cone was hoisted, the gardeners, too, had come off +lightly, and Mr. Philip was pronounced to be at the utmost "rather +silent about next week's occurrences." That was the phrase of "the +room," which crystallised any vague or fluid speech that might find +utterance. "Just a little silent"--so well the prime actors in the +dining-room played their parts. + +Yet yearning was on one side, the yearning of the mother for the +break-down--for it was that it amounted to--of the son, and on the son's +side was a harshness which the mother could not yet believe existed. But +his implacable speeches had been soberly and literally true, and the +strength of his hate was proportionate to what the strength of his love +had been. There was no denying the genuineness of that dreadful alchemy; +love in a hard nature indeed may undergo that terrible transformation, +whereas liking can scarcely be transmuted into anything more deadly than +dislike, while it is most hard of all for mere indifference to struggle +into the ranks of the more potent lords of the human soul. It is a +matter of indifference or at most of reprisal, what are the doings of +those who are indifferent to one. Action for damages may ensue, but hate +still slumbers in its cave. But it is when those whom a man loves hurt +him that the hurt festers and spreads poison through the soul. Indeed, +it is only those whom such a man loves who have power to hurt him at +all. + +After dinner, too, the daily round was continued in all its dismal +unreality. Philip even asked, an old and quite uninteresting joke, +whether he might smoke in the drawing-room, and on Mrs. Home's saying +"No!" threatened to go to the stables. It was never a good joke, or, +indeed, anything approaching it, but to-night it came near to move tears +on the poor lady's part, for it was like speaking of the odd little ways +of some loved one who is dead. Then, again, in the drawing-room the +table for cards was placed out, with decorous wax candles burning at the +corners, and Mrs. Home sat in her usual seat, and as usual Philip drew a +chair sideways near her, so that he could watch without seeming to +watch. And his mother announced Miss Milligan, with the usual futile +determination not to cheat. So in silence Miss Milligan pursued her +abhorred way; and during that silence the tears, the break-down +inevitable for all her brave resolves, came close to the surface. Mrs. +Home already could not speak, she had to clench her teeth to prevent the +sobs coming. Then at last there came a hitch, she cheated, and Philip +saw it. + +"Black nine," he said; "not red nine." + +Mrs. Home's hands were already trembling, and at this they failed, and +the cards were scattered over the table. + +"Oh, Philip!" she cried, "I can't bear it, I can't bear it. Oh, my +darling! put your head on my lap as you used to do when you were a +little boy and in trouble, and let me see if I cannot comfort you." + +She looked up at him with tear-dimmed eyes, and not till then did she +fully know how deep the iron had gone. Not a sign of relenting or +softening was there. He got up and spoke in a perfectly hard, dry voice. + +"Not one atom can you comfort me," he said. "We have both to bear what +has to be borne, and as I have said, it is better to bear in silence. I +think now I had better go; I have those matters to arrange to-night +which I spoke to you of. Perhaps you would tell the servants that--that +everything will go on just as usual here." + +Mrs. Home saw the hopelessness of further appeal just now. + +"Yes, dear, go and do what you have to," she said. "I will tell them. +Will you come back to read prayers, Philip?" + +"No," said he. + +Then he bent and kissed her, and as he held her hands the first faint +sign in the trembling of his lip showed that for her, at any rate, he +was not all adamant. + +"I am not sorry for myself," he said, "but I am sorry for you, dear +mother, that you cannot possibly help me. Breakfast as usual to-morrow? +Good night." + + + + +THIRTEENTH + + +By Monday morning when he returned to town, Philip had quite made up his +mind that all thought of travel by way of distraction was futile, and +had determined to find in work, the hardest and most continuous, a +succession of hours of forgetfulness, so far as he could secure it, of +this blow that had fallen on him. Forgetfulness itself, he knew well he +could not hope to secure, but by hard application of the brain to work, +he hoped that for this hour and for that he would be able to put that +which had so stricken and embittered him on a second and more remote +plane of consciousness. True, at any relaxation, at any interval in +which his brain was not actively employed, it would start out again like +the writing on the wall; but for the working hours of the day, and these +he determined should be long and fully filled, he believed he could to +some extent crush the other out of his consciousness. In work, at any +rate, he believed his best chance lay, and the attempt, though perhaps +desperate, was one which none but a strong man could have made. + +He occupied at present while in London a flat in Jermyn Street, modest +in dimensions, but containing all he wanted. There was a spare room +there which his mother always used on her rather rare visits to town, +but otherwise it held only the necessary accommodation for two servants +and himself. He had already given his landlord notice that he was going +to quit, but to-day he went to the estate office to ask if he could +renew his tenancy since his bachelor days were not yet over. All this +was horribly uncomfortable; he felt that the clerk in the office knew +what had happened, and would, after his departure, talk it and him over +with the other clerks, and though their criticism and comments could not +possibly matter to him, he felt that some deformity, some malformation +or scar of his own body was being publicly shown the world, and he hated +the world for looking at it. Then also he had to say that he should not +require the house for which he was in contract in Berkeley Square, to +complete which nothing really remained except the signing of the lease. +It was all a business so unexpectedly disagreeable that he wished he had +conducted it by letter. + +To-day promised to be very busy; he was to have dined that night with +Lady Ellington, but that engagement was automatically cancelled, and he +left word at his flat that he would be there that night, and would dine +alone. That done, he drove straight down to the City, where he expected +that there would be awaiting him a report of an agent of his with regard +to certain South African mining properties on which he held an extremely +large option which he must take up before the end of the week, when it +expired. He had not been able to make his mind up about it hitherto, and +had wired for the report, putting off his decision until the last +possible minute. + +The report in question had arrived, and, without further delay, he +proceeded to master it. The problems it contained were of a complicated +order; the dip and depth of the reef, the assay value of it, the cost of +working, the reduction which might be obtained in this by the use of +Chinese labour, all these were things which had to be considered. Should +he not exercise his option, the right, that is, of buying his shares at +the figure agreed on, he would lose, of course, what he had spent in +purchasing that right. It was by a careful study of this rather +voluminous report on the property that he had to make up his mind +whether he would exercise it or not. + +Now the problems of finance, that extraordinary and ubiquitous game in +which the most acute brains in the world are pitted against each other +for the acquisition of those little yellow metal counters, which in this +present world are so undeniably potent to procure for their owner a +comfortable journey through it, had at all times an immense attraction +for Philip, and he found that even to-day they were no less absorbing +than they had ever been. He found, too, that, in spite of the frightful +shock that he had undergone, his reasoning and deductive faculties had +not been shaken or dulled, and he felt himself as capable as ever of +weighing the evidence which should decide his course. The report itself +was fairly satisfactory, and he was inclined to believe that the shares +which he could call up were worth the price, which to-day stood steady +at the figure which he would have to pay for them. His money, which ran +into six figures, would perhaps be locked up for a time, but he did not +particularly object to that. On the other hand, supposing he bought, the +effect on the market would certainly be to send the value of the shares +up, so that he could probably, if he wished, clear out again, realising +a small profit. This was all plain sailing enough; the report was good +enough to justify his exercising his option. But the market altogether, +as he well knew, was, in consequence of the Russo-Japanese war, in a +rather excitable and nervous state, and the more difficult problem must +claim his attention--what would be the effect on it if he did not buy? +It was known, of course, that his option was a considerable one, and +dealers in these shares were awaiting any news as to his movements with +some anxiety. + +The report had fallen rustling to the ground, and Philip sat there +staring in front of him, with his elbows on the table and eyes fixed +intently on nothing. Every now and then some clerk came in with a paper +for his signature, or a letter for his consideration; every now and then +he was rung up on the telephone that stood by his elbow. But he had that +rarest of gifts, a mind that can detach itself from one thing and attach +itself in its entirety to another, and he gave his whole attention to +these interruptions when they occurred, and transferred it all back to +the problem he was digging at when he had dealt with them. The way he +pursued was narrow and winding, but step by step he traced it out. + +It took him not less than an hour of hard thinking to make up his mind +definitely on the point: there were so many things to consider, for, as +he always held, there was hardly an event that took place in the world +which did not have its definite and certain effect on the money-market; +and the sole and only office of the financier was to be able, on the +basis of what had happened before, to conjecture what was going to +happen now (for things followed an invariable rule), and estimate what +the effect of his conjectured events would be. And nothing in the world +was more engrossing than that; there was no bit of knowledge a man +might possess concerning human nature, however fragmentary and hard to +fit in, that did not have its place in the puzzle he had to put +together. Above all, Philip did not believe in chance in these affairs; +it might, indeed, be chance whether he himself correctly estimated how +future events would shape themselves, but the element of luck here was +only, if one ran it to the ground, his own ignorance; for if his +knowledge of the past could be complete, so also would his knowledge of +the future be, for in the City of all places is it most true that the +future is only the past entered through another door. + +His mind, then, was made up, but once more he ran through the data upon +which his conclusion was based. These goldfields of Metiekull on which +he held an option, were a company that had aroused a good deal of +comment when brought out, and it had been held in level-headed quarters +that the shares which had been run up to 4 had reached that figure +without there having been produced any guarantee that they were worth +half that. But, as is the inscrutable way of the Stock Exchange, they +had, for no particular reason, been turned into a gambling counter, and +there was no venture which enjoyed a freer or more fluctuating market. +Things, however, had steadied down when it was known that Philip Home +had bought this option of 30,000 shares, and just at this moment, as has +been stated, there was considerable interest felt in the question of +whether he would exercise it or not. If he did not, it meant a loss to +him of about £7,000; whereas if he did, it might be regarded as certain +that the shares, since gambling in them was just now, like bridge, a +favourite method of losing money, would enjoy a very substantial rise, +and, as usual, it was highly likely that Philip would reap a profit +worth reaping, should he choose to sell during this. + +So much, of course, all the world could see, but Philip saw a little +further. He took into consideration the excitable state of the South +African market, the uncertainty with regard to the Japanese war which +would certainly make French speculators nervous, and French speculators, +as he knew, had been very busy over the goldfields of Metiekull. Then +came in the question of the report which he had been reading; on the +whole it was good, and his sober opinion was that the shares were worth +buying at the price. Yet he proposed not to take up his option, but to +lose at once £7,000. But he would also let it be freely known that he +had received a detailed report from his agent on the spot. + +He decided, therefore--so the market would say--to abandon his option +after the receipt of this report. What was the inference? That the +report was unfavourable. Then all the other factors he had been +considering added their weight to the scale; there was a nervous market, +there was likely to be stringency of money, there was the vast hovering +thundercloud of war in the East. If he knew anything about the ways of +the City, it was an absolute certainty that there would be a slump in +Metiekull. He would let it slump; he would even, by selling, assist it +to slump; a hundred little bears--Philip detested the small +operator--would sell, and when they had committed themselves pretty +deeply, he would buy not only the original 30,000 shares of his option, +but somewhere near twice that number; for there was no question as to +the value of the property, and he would be picking up his shares at +something like rubbish price. + +The chain of reasoning was complete, he took his elbows off the table, +and turned to light a cigarette. Then suddenly his heart sank, he felt +sick and empty, for the concentration of thought was relaxed, and from a +thousand spouting weir-gates the thought from which he had obtained an +hour's respite flooded his whole soul. Forgetfulness of that? It was as +if he had just slept in his chair for an hour, and awoke again in full +consciousness of the horror of life. It was no slow awakening, it was a +stab that made a deep and dreadful wound out of which flowed the black +blood of his hatred and resentment, not against those two alone, but +against the world. To this hatred he gave himself up with a hideous sort +of luxury in the overpowering intensity of it. He suffered himself, by +no fault of his; well, others should suffer, too, and if by his +manipulation of the market, which was according to the principles which +governed it perfectly legitimate, others were ruined, it was not his +fault but theirs for competing with him. + +Then a thought blacker than these, because it was more direct, more +personally full of revenge, entered his mind. Surely not so long ago +someone had consulted him as to an investment. Yes, it was +Evelyn--Evelyn, in a sudden burst of prudence--who had decided not to +buy a motor-car, but to put away a big cheque that had just been paid +him. Philip had refused to give him advice professionally, since he was +not a broker, but had told him that he had himself bought a large option +in Metiekull. He remembered the interview perfectly, and knew that he +had recommended Evelyn not to dabble, since he did not know the game, +but to put his money into something safe. What he had eventually done +with it Philip did not know. But for a week afterwards his studio had +been littered with financial papers, and he talked the most absurd +nonsense about giving up the artistic career and taking offices in the +City, since he felt sure that his real chance of brilliant achievement +lay there. + +Now, bitter suffering like that which Philip was now undergoing cannot +but have a very distinct effect on the sufferer. And in such a nature as +his, the particular kind of suffering he had to bear could scarcely have +had any effect but that of the worst. His circle of friends, those to +whom he showed all that was best in him, was but small, and numbered +four only. By two of these he had been betrayed, and that impulse which +at the first moment of his knowledge did just flicker within him, the +impulse of generosity, of taking the big and sky-high line of which for +the moment he had been capable when he dismissed the motor three days +ago near Evelyn's studio, had been crushed, if not out of life, at any +rate into impotence and unconsciousness by the ingrained hardness of his +nature shown to the world at large. That hardness covered him now and +indurated him; he could feel neither pity nor softening for any, least +of all for one who had so bitterly injured him. His power of hurting, it +is true, might be small compared to the hurt that had been done him, but +such as it was, he would use it. He was hurt himself, but he would not +scream, he would just strike back where and when he could. + +London meantime was busy with its thousand tongues in discussing what +had happened, and, as was to be expected, it took a very decided line +over it all. This sort of thing was really impossible, and not to be +tolerated. Why, even the bridesmaids had received their presents, and +everybody's plans, for everybody had settled to go to the wedding, were +absolutely upset. Besides, the whole thing was an insult hurled at the +sacred image of Society, a bomb-shell which had exploded in the very +middle of the temple. And though Gladys Ellington had only one, not a +thousand tongues, she used that one to the aforesaid effect so +continuously that it really seemed impossible that flesh and blood could +stand the wear and strain. She was using it now to Lady Taverner, to +whom she always told things in confidence when she wanted them repeated. +Lady Taverner, it may be remarked, was the pink and butter-coloured +lady, to emphasize whose charms Evelyn had studied purple clematis. + +"Of course, dear Alice," she was saying, "I can say these things to you, +because I know you won't repeat them, and, of course, we all want it +talked about as little as possible. But Madge has really behaved too +abominably; it's all very well to say you must follow the dictates of +your own heart, but if your heart tells you to commit really an +indecency, as this is, I should say it was better not to follow it. But +Madge is so odd: it is only a few weeks ago that she told me how devoted +she was to Philip--esteem, affection, and all that. Well, what sort of +esteem and affection has she shown? My dear, three days before the +wedding." + +Lady Taverner sighed. + +"Of course, I won't talk about it," she said, "but I shall never speak +to Madge again. And my portrait was being done by Mr. Dundas, which +makes it very awkward. Of course, I want it finished, but how _can_ I go +to sit to him again?" + +This was a new light which Gladys had not yet considered. + +"Of course, he has ruined himself," she said cheerfully. "Nobody will go +to be painted by him now. And consider his relation to Philip! Why, he +was his best friend. I haven't dared to see Madge's mother yet, but I +understand she is mad with rage, and I'm sure I don't wonder. And they +were married, I hear, on Saturday, and have left London. How can people +be such fools!" + +This last remark was a genuine _cri du coeur_, for Gladys was +absolutely unable to perceive how any interior impulse could possibly +prove too strong for discretion, for _savoir faire_--she was fond of +scraps of French--for any rending of or throwing out of window those +social pads and cushions which alone ensure a passage through life that +will be free from succession of bumps and jars. That was why she was +almost universally considered so charming: she always said the pleasant +thing, and did the agreeable one (for everybody had to assist the pads +and cushions), unless she was quite safe from detection. Then, it is +true, the sheathed claws occasionally popped out, when it was quite +dark, but before the return of light they were always sheathed again, +and the velvet touch was in evidence. + +"Imagine the marriage!" she went on. "A sexton and a sextoness were +probably the witnesses, and they probably came--the happy pair, I +mean--in a hansom and went away in a four-wheeler. Such nonsense to +wreck your life like that. And a wreck is a crime; it is a danger to +other shipping unless it is blown up." + +Now what Gladys said so directly, all London was thinking, if not with +the same precision, at any rate with the same general trend. There had +been a violation of its social codes, flagrant and open, and for the +time, at any rate, it was disposed to visit the offence with the full +severity of its displeasure. As Gladys had remarked: "How could they be +such fools!" and the children of this world, being wiser in their +generation than the children of light, are the first to punish folly. +And it is very foolish to openly break the rules which Society has laid +down if you wish to continue to occupy your usual arm-chair in that +charming club. For the rules are so few, and so very easy to remember, +and Evelyn and Madge had quite distinctly broken one of the most +elementary of them. And Society, however accommodating in many lines, +never forgives, at once anyhow, any such open violation of its laws as +this. But just at present neither of the sinners cared nearly so much +for all these laws as they cared for a single moment of this blue, +fresh-winded day. + +They had been married, as Gladys had said, on a Saturday, and had left +England that same afternoon to spend a fortnight on the coast of +Normandy, and there at this moment they were, on the very coast itself, +with the blue, crisp ripples of the English Channel hissing gently on +the sand. Evelyn had spent most of the morning constructing a huge +sand-castle of Gothic design, but the rising tide half an hour ago had +driven him from the last of its fortifications, and he was now sitting +on the sand with Madge by his side. All this week he had been in the +most irresponsible, irrepressible spirits, which any thought of the +unhappiness that had been caused seemed powerless to dull; any +suggestion of it passed in a moment like breath off a mirror. With the +huge egotism of his nature he had determined quite satisfactorily to +himself that what had happened was inevitable. He knew how ardent was +his own love for Madge, he knew it was returned, he knew too, for she +had told him how different was this from the quiet, sober affection she +felt for Philip. Her marriage with him could not have taken place: she +felt that herself, whereas nothing in the world was strong enough to +pull them apart. And with the great good sense that so often +characterises egotism, Evelyn, though he was very sorry for Philip, +could not either be ashamed of himself, or on the other hand be sorry +for Philip long. He faded from his mind almost the moment he thought of +him. He could not bring his mind to bear on Philip when Madge was with +him. + +He had been wading during the building and the subsequent occupation of +the Gothic sand-castle, and his feet were still bare, and his flannel +trousers rolled up to his knees. Also a dead bee had been washed ashore +in the foam of the ripples, and search must be made for a suitable +coffin, since burial with all possible honour must be given to a +honey-maker from those on the honey-moon. A pink bivalve shell was +eventually discovered, which he considered worthy of containing the +honoured corpse. Its grave was dug above high-water mark, a mound of +sand in pyramid form raised over it, and the sides of this decorated +with concentric circles of pebbles. A small passage constructed of +shell, and flat stones led to the tomb-chamber itself, and the door of +this was hermetically sealed. In front a small stone altar was raised, +and offerings of sea-weed laid on it. + +"And so," said Evelyn, in conclusion of the short panegyric which, in +capacity of preacher as well as architect, undertaker, and mason, he +pronounced when the rites were over, "we commit to rest this follower of +the fragrant life, who made his living among the flowers, and extracted +honey and nothing less sweet than that from the summer of his days. My +brethren, may we constantly follow this example of the perfect life. +Amen. Say 'Amen,' Madge." + +Madge laughed. + +"I don't think I ever saw anyone so ridiculous," she said; "and it +appears you can go on being ridiculous all the time." + +"All the time I am happy," said he. + +"And you're happy now?" she asked. + +"Absolutely. I want nothing more. All this week I could have said to +every moment: 'Stay, thou art fair.' And, oh! how fair you are, Madge. +Smile, please--no, not the sad smile with all the sorrows of the world +behind it." + +Madge ceased smiling altogether. + +"Oh, Evelyn, I am so happy, too!" she said. "But I can't forget all the +scaffolding, as it were, in which our house of love was built, which now +lies scattered about in bits." + +Evelyn sat up quickly, demolishing the altar he had made with such care. + +"Ah! don't think of that," he said. "We agreed that what has happened +had to happen. Now pity and sorrow when you can't help in any way seems +to me a wasted thing." + +"But if you can't help pitying and being sorry?" she asked. + +Evelyn gave a little click of impatience. + +"You must go on trying till you do help it," he said. "Of course, if one +dwells on the matter, one is sorry for Philip; I am awfully sorry for +Philip when I think of him. I hate the idea of anybody being wounded and +hurt as he must have been, and since he was my friend, it is the more +distressing. Only it is an effort for me to think of him at all. I can +only think of one person, and of one thing--you and my love for you." + +This time Madge's smile was more satisfactory, and with his bright eager +eyes he looked at her as the eagle to the sun. + +"Ah, you are absolutely adorable!" he cried. + + * * * * * + +The wind, such as there was of it, had veered round at the time of high +tide, and blew no longer off the sea, but breathed gently from the land. +A mile away on the right were the tall, dun-coloured houses of +Paris-plage, perched at the edge of the sea, and the sands there were +dotted with the costumes of the bathers, like polychromatic ants who +crawled about the beach. The sea itself was full of shifting greens and +blues, and far out a fleet of boats like grey-winged gulls hovered, +fishing. Even the shrill ecstasies of the bathers of Paris-plage, whose +bathing appeared to be of a partial description, but who made up for +that by dancing in the ripples, and splashing each other with +inimitable French gaiety, were inaudible here; nothing stirred but the +light, noiseless wind, warm with its passage over the sand-dunes, and +faintly aromatic with the pungent scent of the fir-woods over which its +pleasant path had lain. All things paused in this hour of the glory of +the fulfilled noontide, that seemed equally remote from both past and +future, so splendid and so real was the one present moment. If there had +been hurricane in the morning, it was forgotten now; if there was to be +a tempest to-night, it would be time to think about tempests when the +winds began to blow, and it was mere futility to waste a moment of what +was so perfect in contemplation, whether retrospective or anticipatory, +of what had been or yet might be. There was just the hushed murmur of +blue, breaking ripples, their sh-sh as they were poured out on to the +golden sand, white gulls hung in the air, white boats drifted over the +sea. And by Madge's side sat her lover, the man whom her whole nature +hailed as its complement, its completion. Whatever he did, whatever he +said, she felt that she had herself dreamed that in remote days. Various +and unexpected as were his moods, they were all fiery; the sand-castle +as it first stood triumphant against the incoming tide had been to him a +monument of more than national import, its gradual fall a tragedy that +beggared Euripides. The bee, too--if he had been burying her he could +not have shown a tenderer interest. But she was not so sure that she +agreed with the sermon that had been preached over the grave. And in +spite of the completeness of the noonday, she could not help going back +to it. + +"Evelyn," she said, "were you really serious when you said that the +honey-gatherer, who looked only for what was sweet, was the example of +our lives? Something like that you said, anyhow." + +But he continued just looking at her, as he looked when he said: "You +are adorable," with eyes gleaming and mouth a little open. He did not +even seem to hear that she had asked him a question. But she repeated +it. + +"I don't know," he said. "How am I to know whether I am serious or not? +I suppose one says a hundred stupid things that are based on something +one believes. I am only serious about one thing in the world." + +She did not affect not to know his meaning. + +"I know--we love each other," she said. "But we have breakfast and lunch +just the same." + +He looked doubtful. + +"Do we?" he asked. "But they don't matter!" + +Suddenly to Madge the hush of the noonday and the arrest of "before and +after" ceased. It was as if she had been asleep and was suddenly +awakened from a dream by a hand that shook her. The dream was still +there, but also, dimly, there was the wall-paper, a brass knob at the +end of the bed, a counterpane. + +"Ah! with all my heart I wish they didn't matter. I wish nothing +mattered, I ask for nothing better than to sit here with you, to go on +living as we have lived this last week. But the time must come when we +shall have to consider what we shall do next. Are we going back to +London, or what?" + +"It is August," said he. "London in August----" + +"What then? Shall we stop here?" + +Then Evelyn was puerile. + +"Of course, if you are tired of this," he began. + +But she let the puerilities go no further. + +"Oh, don't be a baby," she said. "Ah, such a dear baby, I grant you! +But, Evelyn, it is life we are living." + +Evelyn stroked his chin with a hugely pompous air. + +"'Life is real,'" he said, "'life is earnest.' Now, Madge, Poet +Longfellow said that, therefore he must be right." + +"And so Painter Dundas agrees with him?" she said. + +"Oh, certainly! Life is undoubtedly real and earnest, but what then? Am +I never to talk nonsense any more? Shall we unbury the bee? Dear me, the +unburial of the bee. How unspeakable pathetic and terrible! But what I +have buried I have buried. So I shall draw your profile in the sand with +one finger and all my heart." + +But she still remained serious. + +"Tell me when you have finished," she said. + +Evelyn was already absorbed. + +"With a helmet on," he remarked, "because she has to meet and defeat the +realities of life, and the corners of her mouth turned down because life +is earnest, and just winking with the other eye; the one you see, in +fact, because she wants to signal to her friend, which is me, that it's +all a huge joke really, only she mustn't talk in church." + +There was a compelling fascination for her in the nimble finger that +traced a big outline so deftly in the sand, and since she was upside +down to it, where she sat, it followed that she got up, and went round +to see what manner of a caricature this was. Hopelessly funny she found +it, and hopelessly like, so much so that she danced a war-dance all over +the outline, and sat down again on the middle of her own face. + +"Now attend!" she said to her husband. + +"After you have ruined the picture of my life," said he. "It was more +like you than anything. You are being consumed with moral responsibility +for me. I object to that, you know; you can be consumed by your own +moral responsibility, or you can consume it, like you consume your own +smoke, but mine is mine." + +"Evelyn, am I your wife?" she asked. + +"I have reason to believe so. I was told so in church." + +"Very well--your conscience is kept in the kitchen; when I go to order +dinner I look at it--I order more if we are likely to run short. So give +me the cheque, please, there is a bill for conscience owing, and we must +have a fresh supply." + +"I don't understand one word," said Evelyn, rubbing the sand off his +legs preparatory to turning his trousers down again. "Not one word. Does +it matter?" + +Madge's face grew quite grave again; smiles had spurted as with +explosions from eyes and mouth when she saw his sand-sketch of her, but +these had ceased. + +"Yes, it does matter," she said, "for unless you propose that we should +remain at Le Touquet quite indefinitely, it will be necessary some day +to become definite. I suggest that we should become definite now. +Everything," and she dug impatiently in the sand with scooping +fingers--"everything has been left at a tag-end. We can't forever leave +things frayed like that----" + +Evelyn interrupted her. + +"Oh, I know so well!" he exclaimed; "the metal thing comes off the end +of a lace, and you have to push it through the holes; a little piece +only comes through, and what does not come through gets thicker and +won't follow. Then one has to take it out and begin again." + +Madge leaned forward. + +"Yes, it is exactly that," she said. "That has happened to us. When that +happens, what do you do?" + +"I take off the boot in question," said Evelyn gravely, "and ring the +bell. When answered, I tell them to take away the boot and put in +another lace. That is done: then I put the boot on. But I don't wrestle +with laces which have not tags. You are wrestling, you know." + +For the second time this morning a feeling as if she was dealing with a +child seized Madge. The child was a very highly-developed man, too. This +was a handicap to her; a heavier handicap was that she loved him. Even +now, as he sat most undignifiedly wiping the sand from his feet, +preparatory to getting his socks on again, she felt this immensely. + +"The sand will be rubbed through the skin, and cause mortification," he +remarked to himself. + +Madge turned on him with some indignation. + +"Ah, can't you see," she cried, "that I am serious? And you talk about +the sand between your toes! You are rather trying." + +Evelyn paused in his toilet. + +"Dearest, I am sorry," he said. "I thought we were still playing the +fool! But we are not--you, at any rate, are not. What is it then?" + +This completeness of surrender was in itself disarming, and her tone was +gentle. + +"It is just this," she said--"that you and I are lost in a golden dream. +But the dream can't go on forever. What are we to do? Shall we go back +to London? Will you go on painting just as usual? People, perhaps, will +be rather horrid to us, you know." + +Everything now, even to him, had become serious. + +"Do you mind that?" he asked. + +"No, of course not, if you don't," she said. "But I have been wondering, +dear, whether if by your marriage with me you have hurt your career." + +"You mean that pink Jewesses who want to be fashionable won't come to +ask me to paint their portraits any more?" he said. + +"No, not that, of course. What does that matter?" + +Evelyn finished putting his shoes and socks on. + +"Then, really, I don't understand what you do mean," he said, "by my +career, if you don't refer to the class of person who thinks it a sort +of _cachet_ to be painted by me--though Heaven knows why she can think +that. What are we talking about? How otherwise can my career, which is +only my sense of form and colour, be touched?" + +Madge's eyes dreamed over the sea for a little at this. + +"No, I was wrong," she said. "Taken like that, it can't matter. But we +must (though I was wrong there, I am right here)--we must settle what we +are going to do. We must go back some time; you must begin working +again." + +Evelyn finished tying the last lace. + +"Romney painted Lady Hamilton forty-three times," he said. "I could +paint forty Madges of the last hour. You never look the same for two +minutes together, and I could paint all of you. Let's have an exhibition +next spring called 'Some Aspects of the Honourable Mrs. Dundas. +Artist--her husband.'" + +"They would all come," said Madge. + + * * * * * + +There was no more discussion on this present occasion about the future. +Evelyn being again properly clothed, they went back by a short cut +across the sand-dunes to the clearing in the forest behind, which was +known as Le Touquet. For a space of their way, after they had got out of +the pitiless sun on the sand, their path led through the primeval pine +forest, where the air was redolent and aromatic, and the footfall went +softly over the carpet of brown needles. Then other growths began, the +white poplar of France shook tremulous leaves in fear of the wind that +might be coming, young oak-trees stood sturdy and defiant where poplars +trembled, and away from the pines the bare earth showed a carpet of +excellent green. Then, as they approached the hotel, neat white boards +with black arrows displayed signs in all directions, and a rustic bridge +over a pond, by which stretched a green sward of lawn on which it was +'defended to circulate,' led to the gravel sweep in front of the hotel. + +A broad verandah in the admirable French style sheltered those who +lunched there from the sun; small tables were dotted about it, and from +the glare of the gravel sweep it was refreshment to be shielded from the +heat. Their table was ready spread for them, and the obsequious smile +of the head-waiter hailed them. + +But for the first time Madge was not content. Evelyn still sat opposite +her; all was as it had been during the last week. Yet when he said: "Oh, +how delicious, I am so hungry!" she felt she was hungry, too, but not in +the way he meant. She was hungry, as women always are and must be, for +the sense of largeness in the man, and she asked herself, but quenched +the question before it had flamed, if she had given herself to just a +boy. Yet how she loved him! She loved even his airy irresponsibility, +though at times, as this morning, she had found it rather trying. She +had lived so much in a world that schemed and planned, and was for ever +wondering what the effect of doing this or avoiding that would be, that +his utter want of calculation, of considering the interpretation that +might be placed on his acts, was as refreshing as the breath of cool +night air on one who leaves the crowded ball-room. And for very shame +she could not go on just now pressing him to make decisions; she would +return to that again to-morrow, for to-day seemed so made for him and +his huge delight in all that was sunny and honey-gathering. To-morrow, +also, she would have to mention another question that demanded +consideration, namely, that of money. They were living here, with their +big sitting-room and the motor-car they had hired--and, as a +matter-of-fact, did not use--on a scale that she knew must be beyond +their means; and since she was perfectly certain that Evelyn had never +given a thought to this question of expense, any more than the price of +the wine which he chose to drink concerned him, it was clearly time to +remind him that things had to be paid for. He had loaded her, too, with +presents; she felt that if she had expressed a desire for the moon, he +would have ordered the longest ladder that the world had ever seen in +order, anyhow, to make preliminary investigations with regard to the +possibility of securing it. He apparently had not the slightest notion +of the value of money, no ideas of his were connected with it, and +though this argued a certain defective apparatus in this money-seeking +world, as if a man went out to walk in a place full of revolver-armed +burglars with no more equipment than a penny cane, she could not help +liking his _insouciance_. Once she taxed him with his imprudence, and +he had told her, with great indignation, how he had read nothing but +financial papers for a whole week earlier in the summer, and at the end, +instead of spending a couple of thousand pounds in various delightful +ways, he had invested it in some South African company in which--well, a +man who was very acute in such matters was much interested. And yet she +called him imprudent! + +After lunch they strolled across to the lawn where circulation was +forbidden. + +"We won't be breaking any rules," said he, "unless the word applies to +the currents of the blood, because we will sit under a tree and probably +sleep. I can think of nothing which so little resembles circulation as +that." + +Letters and papers had arrived during lunch, and Evelyn gave a great +laugh of amusement as he opened one from Lady Taverner, asking if he +would be in London during October, and could resume--this was +diplomatic--the sittings that had been interrupted. + +"Even that branch of my career hasn't suffered," he observed. + +There was nothing more of epistolary interest, and he opened the paper. +There, too, the world seemed to be standing still. There had been a +skirmish between Russian and Japanese outposts at a place called +something like Pingpong, fiscalitis seemed to be spreading a little, but +otherwise news was meagre. + +"Is there nothing?" asked Madge, when he had read out these headings. + +"No, not a birth or death even. Oh, by-the-way, you called me imprudent +the other day! Now we'll find the money-market, and see what my two +thousand pounds is worth. Great Scott, what names they deal +in--Metiekull, that's it." + +There was a long silence. Then Evelyn laughed, a sudden little, bitter +laugh, which was new to Madge's ears. + +"Yes, I bought them at 4," he said. "They are now 2. That was a grand +piece of information Philip gave me." + +He got up. + +"Oh, Evelyn, how horrible!" she cried. "Where are you going?" + +"Just to telegraph to them to sell out," he said. "I can't afford to +lose any more. I'll be back in a minute. And when I come back, dear, +please don't allude to this again. It is unpleasant; and that is an +excellent reason for ceasing to think about it. In fact, it is the best +reason." + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +FOURTEENTH + + +It was perhaps lucky as regards the future of Madge and her husband that +this _debacle_ had taken place so near to the end of the season. Many +people, indeed, had waited in London only for the marriage, for the +season was already over, and for the last three days there had been +nothing but this to detain them. Genuine sympathy was at first felt for +Philip, but it very soon was known that he was at his office again every +day and all day, worked just as hard if not harder than usual, and was +supposed, by way of signalising his own disappointment, to have made +some great _coup_ over a South African company, thereby inflicting a +quantity of very smart disappointments on the gentlemen of the Stock +Exchange. He had dealt these blows out with an impartial hand; first +there had been some staggering smacks which had sent the bulls flying +like ninepins, while the bears stood round and grinned, and profited by +the experience of their fraternal enemies. Then Philip, it seemed, had +seen them grinning, and had done the same for them. + +In other words, things had come off in exactly the way he had +anticipated. The knowledge that he had bought a very large option had +induced many operators less substantial than he to buy also, and the +sudden news that he had received a detailed report from the spot, and +had subsequently not exercised his option, landed many of these buyers +in awkward places. Then, as was natural, the bears saw their +opportunity, sold largely, on the strength of the inference that +Philip's report was highly unfavourable, bringing prices down with a +run. Then, with the same suddenness with which he had decided not to +take up his option, he bought at this very much lower price a vastly +increased number of shares, and within a week of the original slump +Metiekull was considerably higher than it had ever been. The £7,000 he +had forfeited over not taking up his option was but a bagatelle to his +subsequent gains, and the market generally at this conclusion remarked, +among other things not worth repeating, that there was a good deal to be +said in favour of long spoons; while that not inconsiderable part of +more westerly London which is always burning its fingers in this City +fire of the Stock Exchange, said with a somewhat cynical smile that +since Philip could still hit so hard, he had not, perhaps, been so hard +hit himself. Perhaps, in fact, Madge had not made such a very terrible +mistake, after all, for Mr. Dundas was undeniably _the_ most fascinating +person, whereas Philip, so it appeared, did not let the most dreadful +affair of the heart interfere in the slightest with the stuffing of the +money-box. + +But in this they utterly mistook him, for this steady, concentrated +application to work was, perhaps, the only thing in the world which +could have prevented him breaking down or losing his mental balance +altogether. Even as it was, it partook only, as far as he could see, of +the nature of a temporary alleviation, for in the very nature of things +he could not go on working like this indefinitely. And what would happen +to him when he relaxed he could not imagine, he only knew that the hours +when he was not at the office were like some nightmare repeated and +again repeated. Nor did they lose, at present, the slightest edge of the +intensity of their horror. This week was as bad as last week; last week +was no better than the week before, all through this hot August when he +remained in town, not leaving it even for his usual week end on the +river, but seeing its pavements grow hotter and dustier and emptier as +more and more of its toiling crowds escaped for a week or two to the +sands or the moors. + +The worst time of all was the early morning, for though he usually went +to sleep from sheer weariness when he went to bed, he began to wake +early, while still Jermyn Street was dusky and dewy, and as yet the +sparrows in the plane trees opposite his window had not begun to tune up +for the day. Morning by morning he would watch "the casement slowly grow +a glimmering square," or if it was, as often, absolutely unbearable to +lie in bed, he would get up and go into his sitting-room, where the wan +light but brought back to him the dreadful hours he had passed there the +evening before. The glass from which he had drunk stood on the little +table by the sofa, and by it lay the unread evening paper. The beloved +Reynolds prints, Mrs. Carnac, Lady Halliday, Lady Stanhope, Lady +Crosbie, all first impressions, smiled meaninglessly on the wall, for +all the things he had loved and studied had lost their beauty, and were +blackened like dahlias in the first autumn frosts. Sometimes a piece of +music stood on the piano, from which he had played a bar or two the +night before, but had then stopped, for it, too, conveyed nothing to +him; it was but a jangle of senseless chords. Sometimes in these +dreadful morning hours he would doze a little on the sofa, but not +often; and once he had poured out into the glass a stiff dose of whisky, +feeling that even an alcohol-purchased oblivion would be better than +more of this wakefulness. But he had the sense left not to take to that; +if he did that to-day he would do it to-morrow, and if he admitted the +legitimacy of such relief, he knew he would find less and less reason +every day for not letting himself sink in that slough. Besides, he had +to keep himself clear-headed and alert for the work of the day. + +Two passions, to analyse a little further, except when he was at work, +entirely possessed him, one his passion for Madge, of which not one jot, +in spite of what had happened, was abated. It was not, nor ever had +been, of the feverish or demonstrative sort, it did not flicker or +flare, it burned steadily with a flame that was as essential a part of +his life as breathing or the heart-beat. And the other, existing +strangely and coincidently with it, was the passion of hate--hatred for +her, hatred for Evelyn, a red flame which shed its light on all else, so +that in the glare of it he hated the whole world. Two people only stood +outside of it--his mother and Tom Merivale; for these he did not feel +hate, but he no longer felt love; he was incapable of feeling that any +longer except for Madge. But he did not object to them, he thought of +them without resentment, but that was all. + +Then, as his nerves began to suffer under this daily torture, the hours +of enforced idleness became full of alarm. What he feared he did not +know, he only knew that he was apprehensive of some further blow that +might be dealt him from a quarter as unexpected as that from which this +had come. Everything had been so utterly serene when this bolt from the +blue struck him, he could not have conjectured it; and now he could not +conjecture what he expected next. + +But all this London did not know: it only knew that this very keen man +of business was as acute as ever, to judge by the Metiekull episode, and +began to reason that since he was so callous to what had happened, Madge +had really not behaved so outrageously as had been supposed. She had +found--this was the more human and kindly view induced by the cessation +of the late London hours, and the substitution of a great deal of open +air for the stifling ballroom of town--she had found that she really was +in love with Mr. Dundas, and that Philip on closer acquaintance was what +he had proved himself to be, business man first, lover afterwards. And +really Mr. Dundas's pictures this year had been stupefyingly clever. +They made one just gasp. Surely it would be silly to get somebody else +to "do" one instead of him, just because Madge had found out her mistake +in time, and he had assisted at the correction of it. He was certain to +have heaps of orders in any case, so it would be just as well to be +painted by him as soon as possible. Of course that implied that one +accepted his marriage in a sort of way, but, after all, why not? +Besides--here the world's tongue just tended to approach the cheek--it +would be a kindness to old Lady Ellington to smooth things over as much +as possible, and that dear little thing, Gladys, whom everybody liked so +much, would be so pleased to find that Madge was not hardly thought of. +Yes, quite so, and has the dressing-gong sounded already? And Tom killed +a stag, and they had a good day among the grouse, and Jack killed a +salmon, so there will be fish for dinner. What a blessing! + + * * * * * + +One of these mornings which saw Philip in the gloaming of dawn hearing +the sparrows beginning their chirruping in the plane-trees, saw Tom +Merivale also, not only hearing but listening to the twitter of +half-awakened birds in his garden. He had slept in the hammock slung in +the pergola, and after the coolness of the clear night following on the +intense heat of the day before, the dew had been heavy. His blanket was +shimmering with the seed-pearls of the moisture, his hair also was wet +with it, and on the brick of the pergola path it lay like the +condensation of the breath of the spirit of woodland itself. The +cleanness and purity of this hour of dawn was a thing that every morning +more astounded him. Whether a clear and dove-coloured sky brooded as +now overhead, or whether morning came wrapped in rain-clouds, it always +brought to one who slept with the sky for a roof a sense of renewal and +freshness which it was impossible to get used to. Everything was rested +and cleaned, ready to begin again on the hundred joyful businesses of +day. + +Just as a stone falling through the air moves with a speed that is +accelerated each moment by double the acceleration of the last, so +Merivale felt that every day his communion with and absorption in Nature +made progress out of all proportion to what he had achieved before. It +was so few months ago that he had himself wondered at the mysterious and +silent telepathy that ran through all Nature, the telepathy that warns +birds and beasts of coming storm, that makes the bats wake and begin +their eerie flittings even at the hour when sunset is brightest, knowing +that the darkness is imminent, that connects man, too, as he had proved, +if man only will be quiet and simple instead of fretful and complicated, +with birds and beasts, so that they know he is their brother and will +come to his silent call to them. But of late that had become such a +commonplace to him that he only wondered how it could ever have been +otherwise than obvious. He remembered, too, how so few weeks ago he had +for the first time heard the sound of the glass flute in the woods above +Philip's house at Pangbourne, but now not a day passed, often not an +hour, in which that unending melody, the eternal and joyful hymn of +Nature and of life, was not audible to him. Whether what he heard was +really a phenomenon external to himself or only the internal expression, +so to speak, of those thoughts which filled his entire consciousness, +both waking and sleeping, he did not care to ask himself, for it did not +in the least seem to him to matter. Wherever that melody came from, +whether it was born in his own brain and telegraphed from there to his +ears, or whether it was really some actual setting of the joy of life to +song, external to him, and heard just as a railway whistle or the bleat +of a sheep is heard and conveyed from his ears to his brain, he did not +even wish to know, for wherever coined, it was of royal minting, the +secret and the voice of Life itself was there. + +The woods of Pangbourne--Philip. He had heard from Mrs. Home of the +catastrophe, and in answer to a further letter of his he had learned +that Philip remained in London slaving all day at the office, seeing no +one but his clerks, silent, alone, giving no sign even to her. This +letter had come only last night, and ended with an imploring cry that if +Tom thought he could help him in any way, his mother besought him to do +what he could. Philip had been down to see her once only, immediately +after his engagement was broken off, and he had been utterly unlike +himself--hard, terrible, unforgiving. Could Merivale not do something? +Philip had never had but four friends in the world, two of these had +turned enemies (Mrs. Home had crossed out in a thin, neat line the last +two words and substituted "ceased to be friends"), and there were left +only himself and she. And she had tried, and could do nothing. + +Tom Merivale thought over all this as the twitter of birds grew more +coherent in the bushes, passing from the sound like the tuning-up of an +orchestra into actual song. The resemblance, indeed, was curiously +complete, for after the tuning-up had ceased, while it was still very +faintly light, there was a period of silence before song began, just +such a silence as ensued when the strings of a band had found the four +perfect fifths, and there was the hush and pause over singers and +audience alike until the conductor took his place. Day was the conductor +here, and to-day it would be the sun who would conduct his great +symphony in person at dawn, the approach of which to Philip but meant +the hard outlining of the square of window, but to Tom all the joy of +another day, a string of round and perfect pearls of hours. The East was +already in the secret, for high above the spot where dawn would break +rosy fleeces of clouds had caught the light, while nearer to the horizon +the nameless green of dawn, that lies between the yellow of the +immediate horizon itself and the blue of the zenith, was beginning to +melt into blue. Then, how well he knew it, the skeins of mist along the +stream below would dissolve, the tintless, hueless, darknesses of clear +shadow that lay beneath the trees would grow green from the sun striking +through the leaves. These things were enough to fill this hour with +ecstasy, and every hour to him brought its own. There would be the meal +prepared by himself, the work in the garden, claiming fellowship and +friendship every moment with the green things of the earth, the mid-day +bathe, when he was one with the imperishable water, the long communing +with eyes half-shut on the sunny heather, where even the stealthy adder +was no longer a thing of aversion, and then for the sake "of his sister, +the body," as the old Saint said, a walk that might cover twenty miles +before he returned at dusk. Oh, how unutterably good, and how +unutterably better each day! + +A wind came with the dawn itself, that scattered more dew on to him from +the rose-sprays overhead, and he slid out of the hammock to go into the +house to make his breakfast, stretching himself once or twice before he +went in to feel his muscles, the rigging of the ship of the body, all +twang sound and taut. Nor did it seem to him in any way unworthy that +even this physical fitness of his should give him such joy: it would, +indeed, have been a disgrace if it had been otherwise. For all the +sensations and functions of life were on one plane, and whether the +sweat poured from him as he dug the garden, or his teeth crushed a +nuthusk, or the great thigh-muscles strained as he mounted a hill, or +his ear was ravished with the fluting of a bush-bowered thrush, it was +all one; each was a function of life, and the sum of them was just joy. + +But Philip; this morning he could not get Philip out of his head, for +detached from the world of men and women as he was, he could not help +pitying the blind, meaningless suffering of his old friend. For all +suffering to him was meaningless, he did not in himself believe that any +good could come out of it considered merely as suffering: much more +good, that is to say, would have come out of joy; this was withheld by +suffering, a thing almost criminal to his view. But he could realise, +and did, that all that Philip loved best had gone from him; it was as if +in his own case the sun and the moon had been plucked from the sky, or +water had ceased to flow, as if something vital in the scheme of things +was dead. + +It seemed to him, then, with his mind full of Philip, very natural that +there should be a letter from him when the post came in that morning. It +ran thus: + + DEAR TOM,--I had rather an unpleasant experience yesterday, for + suddenly in the middle of the morning I fainted dead off. It seemed + sensible to see a doctor, who of course said the usual + thing--overwork, overworry, go and rest completely for a time. He + was a sensible man, I've known him for years, and so I have decided + to do as he tells me. + + Now you are such an old friend that I trust you to say "No" quite + frankly if you don't want me. I therefore ask you if I may come + down and stay with you a bit. I thought of going home, but I should + be alone there, as my mother is away just now, or on the point of + going, and I don't want to bring her back, and I really think I + should go crazy if I was alone. You seem to have found the secret + of happiness, and perhaps it might do me good to watch you. All + this is absolutely subject to your saying "No" quite frankly. Just + send it or the affirmative by telegram, will you, and I will arrive + or not arrive this evening. But I warn you I am not a cheerful + companion.--Yours, + +PHILIP HOME. + + For any sake don't say a word or give a look of pity or sympathy. I + shall bring a servant--may I?--who will look after me. I don't want + to give you trouble, and I intend to take none myself. Mind, I + trust you to telegraph "No" quite simply if you don't want me. + +There was only one reply possible to this, and, indeed, Merivale had no +inclination to give any other. Of course Philip was welcome; he would +very likely have proposed this himself had not this letter come so +opportunely, and the telegram in reply was genuinely cordial. Poor old +Philip, who used to be so happy in the way in which probably a +locomotive engine is happy, groomed and cared for, and only required to +do exactly that which it loves doing, namely, being strong and +efficient, and exercising its strength and speed. Yet though Tom's +welcome of him was so genuine, he shrank inwardly, though he did not +confess this even to himself, from what lay before him, for he hated +misery and unhappiness--hated the sight or proximity of it, he even +thought that it was bad for anybody to see it, but if on this point his +attitude was inconsistent with the warmth of his telegram, the +inconsistency was wholly human and amiable. + +On the other hand, though he was by no means of a proselytising nature, +there was here, almost forced upon him, a fine test case. He believed +himself very strongly in the infectious character of human emotions; +fear seemed to him more catching than the smallpox, and worry ran +through a household even as does an epidemic of influenza. And if this +which he so profoundly believed was true, that truth must hold also +about the opposite of all these bad things; they, too, must be +infectious also, unless one chose to draw the unthinkable conclusion +that evil was contagious, whereas good was not communicable by the same +processes. That could not be, the spiritual microbes must, as far as +theory or deduction could be trusted to supply an almost certain +analogy, correspond to the microbes of the material world; there must in +fact be in the spiritual world, if these microbes of suffering and +misery were there, much vaster armies of microbes that produced in man +all the things that made life worth living; battalions of +happiness-germs must be there, of germs that were forever spreading and +swarming in their ceaseless activity of building-up and regenerating +man, of battling with the other legions whose work was to destroy and +depress and kill. And if there was anything in his belief--a belief on +which he would gladly have staked his life--that joy, health, life were +ever gaining ground and triumphing over their lethal foes, then it +followed that the germs of all things that were good were more potent +than those that were evil if their armies were mobilised. + +How mysterious and how profoundly true this transference of emotion was, +or, in terms of the present analogy, these invasions of spiritual +microbes! For what caused panic to spread through a crowd? Not danger +itself, but fear, fear which ran like an electric current through the +ranks of its quivering victims. Serenity, therefore, must be equally +contagious, and if one could isolate one of those fear-ridden folk for a +moment in a ring of men who were not afraid, it could not be doubted +that their fearlessness would triumph. No reassuring word or gesture +need be spoken or made, the very fact of the atmosphere of calm must +inevitably quiet the panic-stricken. Worry, too, would stifle if +isolated in serenity, just as serenity would vanish if the hosts of its +enemy hemmed it in. And here, to take the case in point, was Philip, +possessed and infected by the poisonous microbes of unhappiness, which +blackened his soul and darkened the sun for him. What was the remedy? +Not, as he had been trying to do, to drug himself into unconsciousness +over work, while they continued their ravages unchecked and +unchallenged, but to steep himself as in some antiseptic bath in an +atmosphere that was charged with their bitterest foes. It was happiness, +the atmosphere of happiness, that alone could combat his disease. And of +the eventual result of that treatment Merivale did not entertain the +slightest doubt; there would, of course, be war between happiness and +the misery of his friend, but he felt within himself that it was +impossible that Philip's misery could be so strong as the armies on his +own side. Think of the allies, too, that surrounded him: his light-armed +skirmishers, the birds and bees, with their staccato artillery of joy +forever playing on the object of their detestation; the huge guns of the +great beech forest forever pouring their sonorous discharge on to the +enemy; the flying cavalry of the river, the heather-fragrant wind which +encompassed and outflanked him in each direction. + +Thus though, as has been said, his first impulse was one of shrinking +from this proximity to what was unhappy and suffering, how splendid a +demonstration of all that on which he so largely based his theory of +life was here offered him. He did not seek after a sign, no +demonstration could deepen his belief, yet he rejoiced that a sign was +offered him, even as one who utterly believes in the omnipotence of God +may yet look on the shining of the starry-kirtled night, and glow at the +reminder he is given of what he believes. Well he knows the glory of +God, but it does his heart good to behold it. + +The work of the house took him, as a rule, but an hour or so to get +through every morning; but to-day there were further preparations to be +made for his friend's arrival; linen had to be brought out for his bed, +water to be fetched for his jug, and his room to be dusted and made +ready. But these menial occupations seemed to Merivale to be in no way +mean; nothing that was necessary for the ordinary simple needs of life +could possibly be derogatory for the wisest or busiest or wealthiest of +mankind to perform for himself, though to pass a lifetime in performing +them for others was a mean matter both for employer and employed. But +such things were not to him even tedious, any more than breathing or +washing were tedious, and to find them tedious but meant that one was +out of tune with the great symphony of life. Everyone, so ran his +theory, ought ideally to be so simple in his needs that he could +minister to his own necessities, without any sense that his time was +wasted; one washed one's hands, and brushed the hair. For this was part +of the true simplification of life--to need but little, and provide that +little oneself. Yet inasmuch as most of the world did not yet take his +view (and Philip was one of them), he was accustomed to hire help, and +intended to do so now, for a friend's visit. + +He moved quickly and deftly enough about his work; pausing to think for +a moment as to the making of the bed, for all this summer he had +scarcely once slept in one, while in winter a mattress and a rug +comprised his own needs. Then the work of dusting brought him to the +dressing-table, and for a moment he looked at himself in the glass with +a sort of pang of delight, though in his delight there was neither +self-consciousness nor vanity that this was he. For he was now several +years past thirty, a time of life when on every face there begin to +appear the marks of years; but from the glass there looked back into his +eyes the face of a youth just standing on the threshold of manhood. The +strength of manhood was there, but it was a strength in which the +electric vigour of boyhood still quivered like a steel spring; not a +sign of slack or wrinkled skin appeared there, and his hair, with its +close-cropped curls, was thick and shining with health. But looking at +this image of perfect and vigorous youth, he thought, after the first +inevitable delight in the knowledge that this was he, not at all of +himself, only of the fact that to any who lived his life this must be +the certain and logical consequence. For the body was but the visible +sign of the spirit: it was the soul of man that made his body, as a +snail its shell; it was worry and discontent assuredly that drew lines +and wrinkles on the face and brought fatigue and sloth to the muscles, +not the passage of the years; it was just as surely serenity and the +passionate acceptation and absorption of the joy of life that made a man +young, and would keep him so body and soul alike. + +But never before had he so fully realised this change that had come to +him, and when, after his work in the house was over, he walked into +Brockenhurst to engage a servant for the cooking which Philip's visit +would involve, he found himself wondering with a more than usually vivid +curiosity to what further knowledge and illumination his undeviating +quest should lead him. For he felt he was getting nearer every day, and +very quickly nearer to the full realisation of his creed, namely, that +all life was indivisibly one, and that the purport of all life was joy. +And when his knowledge of this was made perfect, how would the +revelation come, and what would be the effect? Would life eternal lived +here and now be his, or would that light be too great for him to bear, +so that this tabernacle of flesh and blood, hereditarily weakened by +centuries of sin and shame, could not stand it? Was it life or seeming +death that awaited him? He scarcely cared. + + * * * * * + +The tree that had been struck by lightning at the end of the garden he +had felled soon after, and part of his daily work now was to cut up the +branches into faggots and sticks of firewood for the winter. That +dreadful stroke from the skies which had dealt death to this beautiful +tree in the prime of its strength and luxuriance of its summer had often +seemed to Merivale to involve a difficult question, for it was +intimately bound up with all those things on which he had deliberately +turned his back. Death did exist in the world, and though, as he had +once said to Evelyn, out of death invariably came life, yet the fact of +death was there, just as beyond all possibility of denial, pain and +disease and sorrow were in the world also. These, however, were largely +of man's making, yet here, in the case of this poor stricken tree, it +was Nature herself who deliberately attacked and slew part of herself. +One animal, it is true, preyed on another, and by its death sustained +its own life: that was far easier to understand. But there was something +senseless and brutal in the fact of this weapon of the storm, a thing as +inanimate as a rifle-bullet, striking at life. It was wanton +destruction. Nothing came of it (and here he smiled, though not +believing he had guessed the riddle), except firewood for him. + +The morning was intensely hot, and as he worked hatless under the blaze +of the sun, the wholesome sweat of toil poured from him. How good that +was; how good, too, to feel the strong resistance of the wood against +the blade of his axe, to feel the sinews of his arms alternately tighten +and slacken themselves in the swiping strokes, to stand straight up a +moment to rest his back, and wipe the moisture from his face and draw +in two or three long, satisfying breaths of summer air. It was as if the +song of the birds, too, entered into his very lungs, and the hum of the +bees, and the murmur of the forest, which was beginning to be hushed a +little at the hour when even the cicala sleeps. One thing alone would +not be hushed, and that the liquid voice of the river, in which he would +soon be plunged. No length of drought in this wonderful year seemed to +diminish the wealth of its outpouring; it was as high between its +fern-fringed banks now as it had been in April. But first there was the +carrying of the aromatic, fresh-cut logs to the house to be done, and he +almost regretted how near completion was the stack that filled the +wood-shed, for there was something about the hardness of this particular +toil that was intimately delightful. It required the exercise of +strength and vigour, the full use of supple and well-hardened muscles; +it was very typical of the splendid struggle for life in which the +struggle itself, the fact of work, was a thing ecstatic. He had cut more +than usual this morning, and it was with a boyish sense of playing some +game against a rigid and inflexible opponent that he determined not to +make two journeys of it, but carry all he had cut in one. And underneath +this staggering burden which he loved he toiled to the wood-shed. + + * * * * * + +Merivale had just come up from his bathe in the evening when Philip +arrived, and he met him halfway up the garden. That extraordinary change +which he had himself seen in the glass that morning struck his friend, +too. + +"It was awfully good of you to let me come, Tom," he said. "And what has +been happening to you? If I had not known you ten years ago, I should +scarcely have recognised you now." + +Tom laughed. + +"And in ten days you won't recognise yourself," he said. "You look +pulled down, and no wonder, if you've been working in London all August. +Anyhow, this isn't the least like London, and you are going to do no +work. You are going to sit in the garden, and go for immense slow walks, +and listen to my practically incessant and wholly fatuous +conversation." + +But it was difficult for him to conceal the shock that Philip's +appearance gave him. He looked so horribly tired and so old. The +suffering of this last month had made him haggard and heavy-eyed, and +what was worse, the hatred that had been his soul's guest had made his +face hard and bitter, and yet for all the hardness it was strangely +enfeebled: it had lost the look of strength and life that had always +been so characteristic of it. The vital principle had been withdrawn +from it; all that it expressed was lethal, negative. + +Philip's weary eyes looked round on the garden and the low, thatched +house where dinner was already being laid in the verandah. + +"So this is the Hermitage," he said. "Dear God, you have found peace." + +Then he broke off suddenly, and began again in a different voice, a +voice that was like his face, bitter and hard and old. + +"Yes, I've been overworking," he said, "and as I told you, yesterday I +suddenly collapsed. I think my work has got on my brain too much; I +didn't sleep well. London was dreadfully hot and stuffy, too. But I've +made a pot of money this month. Those fools on the Stock Exchange say +that August is a slack month. Of course it is if you are slack. But +certainly from a business point of view I've had an all-round time. I +brought some of them back, too, from their deer-forests and fishings in +double-quick time. And they were mostly too late even then. Good joke, +too, my going off suddenly like this, and leaving them grilling in +London." + +Merivale could not quite let this pass; besides, he must answer somehow. +He laughed. + +"I don't altogether agree with your idea of humour," he said. "Was it +really--from a humorous point of view--worth while?" + +Philip's face did not relax. + +"It was from a business point of view," he said. + +Then his gardener's eye was suddenly arrested by a _perle des jardins_ +that was ramping beyond all bounds. + +"I used to know about roses," he said, "and I'll cut that back for you +to-morrow. You are not getting half the roses out of it." + +"I know, but it's enjoying itself so enormously," said Merivale. + +Philip considered this as an abstract question on to which he had not +previously turned his mind. + +"And you think that ought to be taken into consideration when one deals +with the destinies even of rose-trees?" he asked with a terrible air of +being in earnest. + +Merivale smiled. + +"Decidedly London has not been good for you," he said. "I think your +words were 'the destinies even of rose-trees.' Now what destiny matters +more than that? Not mine, I am sure, and I doubt if yours. Besides, the +destinies of your rose-trees used to be of extraordinary importance, not +only to them, but to you." + +Philip was silent a moment. Then for the first time, at the sense of +peace that was here so predominant a note, or at the sight of Tom +himself, in all the vigour and freshness of a youth that measured by +years was already past, some faint gleam, or if not a gleam, the sense +that light was possible to him, broke through the dismal darkness of his +soul. For one short moment he laid his hand on his friend's arm. + +"Make allowance for me, Tom," he said. + +In spite of his long aloofness from the fretful race of men and the ways +of them, Merivale had not forgotten--indeed it is as impossible for one +who has ever known it to forget it as it is to forget how to swim--that +divine gift of tact. Indeed, it is probable that his long sojournings +alone had, if anything, made more sensitive those surfaces which come +into contact with others and which others insensibly feel (for this is +tact) to be smooth and warm and wise. And it was a fine touch that he +did not respond, however remotely, to Philip's appeal, for Philip had +told him that pity and sympathy were exactly what he could not stand. +Consequently he let this cry be the voice of one in the desert; it +wanted silence, not audible answer. He, like the trees in the garden and +the stream, must be dumb to it. + +This silence was the key to several days that followed: there was, in +fact, no intimate conversation of any sort between the two friends. +Philip would sit for hours in the garden, stung sometimes into spasmodic +activity, during which he would send off a dozen telegrams to his office +on monetary affairs, but for the most part with an unread paper on his +knees, or a book that tumbled unheeded on to the grass. But soon during +this frosty and strictured time, Merivale thought he saw, as birds know +the hour of sunrise before the faintest dawn illuminates the sky, that +there were signs that this frost was less binding than it had been. +Philip would take a pruning-knife sometimes, and with his deft and +practised hand reduce a rose to reasonable dimensions. Sometimes +half-way through the operation he would let the knife fall from his +fingers, as if his labours, like everything else, were not worth while; +but often afterwards he would resume his labours, and enable the tree to +do justice to itself. By degrees, too, these outbursts of City activity +grew rarer and more spasmodic, becoming, as it were, but the echoes of a +habit rather than demonstrations of the habit itself. He did not join +Merivale in his long tramps over the forest, but he began to wait for +his return, and if he knew from what point of the compass he was likely +to return, he sometimes set out to meet him. Once Merivale was very +late: his tramp had taken him further than usual, and night, falling +cloudy and moonless, had surprised him in a wood where even one who knew +the forest as well as he might miss his way. On this occasion he found +Philip pacing up and down the garden in some agitation. + +"Ah, there you are," he cried in a tone of obvious relief when his +white-flannelled figure appeared against the deep dusk of the bushes +that lined the stream. "I was getting anxious, and I did not know what +to do. I should have come out to look for you, but I did not know where +you might be coming from." + +And that little touch of anxiety was perhaps the first sign that he had +shown since he had abandoned himself to bitterness that his heart was +not dead: never before had the faintest spark of the sense of human +comradeship or its solicitudes appeared. + +Then Merivale knew that the fortnight that Philip had already spent here +had not been utterly wasted, and before going to bed that night he wrote +one line of hope to Mrs. Home. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +FIFTEENTH + + +A couple of days after this the weather suddenly broke, and for the +unclouded and azure skies they had a day of low, weeping heavens, with +an air of dead and stifling dampness. Never for a moment through the +hours of daylight did the sullen downpour relax; the trees stood with +listless, drooping branches, from which under the drenching rain a few +early autumn leaves kept falling, though the time of the fall of the +leaf was not yet. In the garden beds the plants had given up all +attempts to look gay or to stand up, and bent drearily enough beneath +the rain that scattered their petals and dragged their foliage in the +muddy earth. The birds, too, were silent; only the hiss of the rain was +heard, and towards afternoon the voice of the river grew a little +louder. Merivale, however, was undeterred and quite undepressed by these +almost amphibious conditions, and, as usual, went off after breakfast +for one of those long rambles of his in the forest, leaving Philip +alone. There was no hint of unfriendliness taken in this; indeed, Philip +had exacted a promise from his host on the evening of arrival that his +normal course of life should be undisturbed. + +That first little token that he had given two days before that his heart +was not dead had more than once repeated itself since then, and he was +perhaps faintly conscious of some change in himself. He was not, so far +as he knew, less unhappy, but that frightful hardness was beginning to +break down, the surface of its ice was damped with thawed water, his +hatred of all the world, his deep resentment at the scheme of things--if +any scheme underlay the wantonness of what had happened--was less +pronounced. It might, indeed, be only that he was utterly broken, that +his spirit of rebellion could no longer raise its banner of revolt, yet +he did not feel as if he had surrendered, he did not in the least fold +his hands and wait mutely for whatever the Powers that be might choose +to do with him. He was conscious, indeed, of the opposite, of a certain +sense of dawning willpower; and though his life, so to speak, lay +shattered round him, he knew that subconsciously somehow he was +beginning to regard the pieces with some slight curiosity that was new +to him, wondering if this bit would fit on to that. In a way he had +plunged into business again with that feverish rush which had taken him +through August with some such idea; his immediate salvation, at any +rate, he had believed to lie in concentrated occupation; yet there had +been nothing constructive about that; it was a palliative measure, to +relieve pain, rather than a course that would go to the root of the +disease. Also, such as it was, it had failed, his health had given way: +he could for the present take no more of that opiate. + +In another respect also it had failed, for to-day by the mid-day post +there had come for him communications of the greatest importance from +the City, information which was valuable, provided only he acted on it +without delay. There was no difficulty about it, the question had no +complications; he himself had only to send off instructions which ten +minutes' thought could easily frame. Yet he sat with paper and pens in +front of him, doing nothing, for he had asked himself a very simple +question instead. "Is it all worth while?" was what he said to himself. +And apparently it was not. + +Now, if this had happened a month ago, it would have been equivalent to +a surrender; it would have been a confession that he was beaten. But now +the whole nature of his doubt was changed. Work, it is true, had done +something for him; it had got him through a month in which he was +incapable of anything else, it had got him, in fact, to the point which +was indicated two days ago by his little anxiety about Merivale. And had +he known it, that was much the most important things that had happened +to him for weeks. Something within him had instinctively claimed kinship +again with mankind. + +How hollow and objectless to-day seemed the results of the last month! +"Home's August," as it was already ruefully known on the Stock Exchange, +had plentifully enriched Home, but though the gold had poured in like a +fountain, yet, mixed with it, indissolubly knitted into the success, +had come a leanness. What did it all amount to? And lean above all was +his paltry triumph over Evelyn, who, as he had since ascertained, had +sold out Metiekull when things were at their very worst, only to realise +that if he had left it alone, he would have made a handsome profit. But +what then? What good did that pin-prick of a vengeance do? What +gratification had it brought to Philip's most revengeful and hating +mood? The wedding-tour had been cut short: Evelyn and Madge had come +back to London, but that to-day gave him not the smallest feeling of +satisfaction in that, however feebly, he had hit back at them. It was +all so useless: the futility and childishness of his revenge made him +feel sick. If he had a similar chance to-day, he would not have stirred +a finger. + +But all this emptiness, and the intolerable depression that still +enveloped him, was, somehow, of different character to what it had been +before. It was all bad and hopeless enough, but his eyes, so to speak, +had begun to veer round; they were no longer drearily fixed on the +storms and wreckage of the past, but were beginning, however, +ineffectually as yet, to peer into the mists of the future. It was +exactly this which was indicative of the change that had come, and the +indication was as significant as the slow shifting of a weather-cock +that tells that the blackening east wind is over, and a kindlier air is +breathing, one that perhaps in due time shall call up from the roots +below the earth the sap that shall again burst out in mist and spray of +young green leaf, and put into the heart of the birds that mating-time +has come again. And that first hint of change, though lisped about while +yet the darkness before dawn was most black, is better than all the gold +that had poured in through the hours of the night. + +Not all day nor when night fell did the rain cease, but the air was very +warm, and the two dined out as usual in the verandah. The candles burned +steadily in the windless air, casting squares of uncertain light on to +the thick curtain of the night which was hung round them. Merivale, it +appeared, had passed a day of high festival even for him; the rain of +which the thirsty earth was drinking so deeply suited him no less. + +"Ah, there is no mood of Nature," he cried, "which I do not love. This +hot, soaking rain falling windlessly, which other people find so +depressing, is so wonderful. The earth lies beneath it, drinking like a +child at its mother's breast. The trees stand with drooping leaves, +relaxing themselves, making no effort, just drinking, recuperating. The +moths and winged things creep close into crevices in their bark--I saw a +dozen such to-day--or cling to the underside of the leaves, where they +are dry and cool. Everything is sleeping to-day, and to watch the earth +sleep is like watching a child sleep: however lovely and winsome it is +when it is awake, yet its sleep is even more beautiful. There is not a +wrinkle on its face: it is as young as love, and with closed eyes and +mouth half-open it rests." + +Philip was looking at him with a sort of dumb envy, which at length +found voice. + +"I would give all I have for just one day of your life," he said, +pushing back his plate and putting his elbows on the table, a +characteristic movement when he wanted to talk, as Merivale knew. + +"Ah, my dear fellow," he cried, "it is something very substantial gained +already, if you wish that. To want to be happy is a very sensible step +towards it." + +"It is true that a fortnight ago I don't think I even wanted to be +happy," said Philip. + +"I know. But you have made the first step. Also, I can say it now, you +look very much better than when you came." + +"I am not more happy," said Philip. + +"No, but you conceive it distantly possible that one day you may be. +That has only just begun to occur to you." + +Philip established his elbows more firmly yet. + +"You are a living miracle, Tom!" he said. "I believe you are happier +than any man on this earth has ever been, since, at any rate, man began +to grow complicated and want things. You want nothing, I suppose, do +you? And is it that which has made you a boy again, while wanting and +not getting, and being robbed of what was mine, has made an old man of +me?" + +Tom smiled, showing his white even teeth. + +"Ah, I want," he said, "I want passionately, but I feel sure I shall get +what I want. It is the old story, I have told it you before: what I want +is the full realisation of the oneness of all life, and of the joy that +pervades everything." + +"What would I not give to realise one millionth-part of that?" said +Philip. + +He paused a moment and then broke out suddenly. + +"Ah, it is the very intensity and completeness with which I loved her +that makes it all so bitter," he said. "A little love would only have +meant a little bitterness. But my love was not little, and so also is +not my bitterness. And afterwards, I did the best thing I could think +of. I worked, using work as a drug. As you know, I took too much of that +drug, and nearly broke down in consequence. And, oddly enough, now, so +far from finding myself a slave to it, the thought of it is rather +distasteful than otherwise. I might have made quite a lot of money +to-day, if I had only taken the trouble to write a telegram, which would +have been done in ten minutes and have cost me ten shillings. But I +thought: 'Is it worth while?' And when one thinks that, it is certainly +not worth while: only things that are quite indubitably worth while are +worth while at all. And then I thought over what I had done to Evelyn, +and that seemed not worth while either. I should not do it again if I +had the chance." + +"What was that?" asked Merivale. + +Philip told him in a few words the history of Metiekull. + +"It was designed to hurt Madge, too," he said, "which again doesn't seem +worth while. I don't care whether she is hurt or not. And I thought I +was so strong, so unbending." + +He paused a moment, but the need of confiding, of laying his heart open, +was strong upon him. It had long been dammed up, now the flood-water had +at last begun to make a breach in the banks. + +"I love her still," he said, "and I loved her all the time when I would +have done anything to hurt her. I wonder if you understand that. It is +true at all events. I would like, or rather I would have liked, to hurt +her and go on hurting till she writhed with pain, and all the time I +should have been longing to kiss her tears away. But now I don't want to +hurt her any more. It does not seem worth while. And besides, I can't +hurt her; only one person in the world can really hurt her, because she +loves him. I am an object of indifference to her, and therefore I have +no power to hurt her. My God, by what diabolical trick is it that only +those we love have the power to hurt us? That was a cruel trick God +played on us when he made us so. It is infamous!" + +His hands, which were supporting his head, trembled, and for the first +time his eyes grew soft with unshed tears. Never until this moment had +he felt the slightest desire to weep; now the tears were ready to come. +But he repressed them and went on. + +"My house is in ruins," he said, "and perhaps I have been looking at the +ruins too long. It has done no good in any case: looking at them has +brought me no nearer to laying the first stone again. I have just the +sense left to see that. One has to build, to begin again, not count over +the destruction that has been wrought. Yet my house was so beautiful, +the house that was already built, and waited only for one to enter." + +Again he paused, for his voice trembled, too. + +"But as there is no such futile fool as the pathetic fool," said he, "I +will not go on about that. I want, and I want you to help me in this, to +look the other way, forward. I think you have vitality enough, or call +it what you will, to resuscitate a man who is all but drowned, over +whose head the billows have gone. There is something infectious about +you, I think; you somehow shine on one, and I feel as if I was +sickening, so to speak, by being with you, for the disease of life. +Work, anyhow, did me no good; it only ended in my breaking down. But +mere idling here has done something for me. I feel as if I could +acquiesce in continuing idle here, whereas before the thought of +continuing to do either anything or nothing was intolerable. I could but +just get through the present dreadful moment. Through all these weeks +the next moment, the next hour, the next day, might easily have proved +to be impossible. For, look here--you know I am not melodramatic!" + +He took from his pocket a little surgical lancet, and stroked the side +of his throat with his thumb. + +"I tried to get prussic acid," he said, "but I suppose I asked for it +badly, and they did not believe some foolish tale about a dog which I +wanted to put out of the way. So I bought this. One little incision--I +took the trouble to learn the right place, for it is dreadfully foolish +to make a mess, over and above the mess that must be made, about such +simple things. I don't really know why I have not used it before; I can +only say it was not from cowardice. But now I want it no longer; I am +beginning to be able to look forward. So it goes." + +With a jerk of his wrist he flung it among the shrubs to the right of +the lawn, where it fell with a little splutter of applause, as it were, +from the leaves, as if they, too, were glad to assist in the disposal +and forgetting of it. + +But Merivale looked neither shocked nor surprised; it was as if but a +very commonplace thing had been told him. + +"Yes, my dear chap," he said, "of course I don't put it down to +cowardice, the fact, I mean, that you did not use that abominable little +knife. Why, if you were a coward, you would have done so. Of course it +must have been much easier for you to die than to live all this time. +But I'm glad you weren't a coward, Philip. I don't think a coward can be +much good for anything. A man who won't meet what is in front of him, +and prefers to run away somewhere, he doesn't know where, is a poor sort +of being. Of course, we all have our fears; life is full of terror. All +we can do is to say we are not afraid, and to behave as if we were not. +And since you have thrown that knife away, I may say that I think +suicide is one of the most abject species of cowardice. Of course you +were not yourself when you contemplated it, however vaguely. Now that +you are a little better, you throw the thing away." + +His tone was so extremely matter-of-fact that its very normalness +arrested Philip. As he had said, it was perfectly true that nothing was +further from his thoughts than melodrama, and the interest he felt in +Tom's attitude, as thus revealed, towards life and death and fear was a +fresh sign, and he himself felt it to be such, of his reawakening +interests. Hitherto it had not, however remotely, concerned him as to +what anyone else might think of it all. + +"You talk of fears," he said; "what do you know of them? Surely you, at +any rate, are free from fear. Oh, talk, Tom, interest me in anything; +talk about yourself, or birds, or beasts. You have given me so much: +give me more. Give me the foundation of my new house, since it is +you--yes, you, you dear fellow--who have made me turn my back upon the +ruins. I have got to begin again; I have nothing to begin with. I am +bankrupt. I beg you to give me a bit of that which you have so +abundantly." + +His voice again half-failed him, but he recovered it in a moment. + +"We were talking about fear," he said; "what have you got to fear? You +don't depend on men and women; you don't love. There is nothing in the +world to be afraid of except love. I have found that out. Yet people +seek it, the fools. They call it by sweet names: they say it is love +that makes life worth living. My God, I should be so content if I had +never known what it was. Damn her! I could have lived exactly like +you--no, that is not true; I could never have been even remotely happy +without loving her, just as, if I had never loved her, I should never +have known what misery was. But you among your birds and beasts and +trees, what on earth have you to fear? You won't fall in love with a +beach-tree and find that it elopes with an elm. Tell me about your +bloodless Paradise, and how the serpent, which is fear, can enter into +it." + +Tom Merivale had grown rather grave during this sudden outburst. Nothing +in the world, so he believed, had power to ruffle his temper: only it +was difficult to explain to such a child as Philip had shown himself to +be. But before the pause was on his side the other spoke again. + +"I am sorry," he said, "but it was a sort of baffled ignorance that +spoke. I don't understand you; and for that reason I had no business to +call your happiness, which is maddeningly real to me, a bloodless +Paradise. But, for God's sake, show me anything approaching Paradise, at +the door of which there is not an angel with a sword, not flaming, but +cold and convincing. And where, above all, is your fear? How can fear +exist for you? What is there to be afraid of unless you love and can be +betrayed?" + +Philip's servant came out from the house, bringing a tray with glasses +and bottles. He paused by his master a moment. + +"What time will you be called, sir?" he asked. + +"Usual time; you can go to bed." + +The pause lasted till the man had entered the house again. Then Merivale +spoke. + +"I fear all I have not learned," he said. "I fear the revelation of what +people suffer, of what you have suffered, of what Christ suffered. I +fear that all suffering, in its degree, is atonement. I don't believe +it, mind you, but I am afraid it may be true, and that somehow I shall +have to believe it. I am not a Christian, and so I put it that a man +who was as infinitely above the rest of mankind as Shakespeare is above +the child which is idiotic from its birth and has never felt the warmth +of the slightest spark of reason, found it necessary to die, and +believed that his death atoned for the sins of the whole world. Ah, if I +only believed that he was right, how instinctively I should believe that +he was God. No one but God could have thought of that." + +He paused a moment. + +"But I am beginning to think that I shall not die without believing it," +he said. "I don't think that even the death of the body could come to +this body of mine unless I became convinced of the necessity for +suffering and for death. Why am I beginning to think that? I can't +possibly say; there is never any reason for one's believing anything, +except the conviction that it must be so. Evelyn, I remember, once +talked to me about it. At that time I was satisfied with my own +reasoning; now I am not. I said to him then that my _métier_ was the +realisation of joy. Well, at present I know nothing that invalidates +that belief. But I see clearly now the possibility that he was right, in +which case it is possible that my fears, about which you asked, are +right also. Mind, I am not afraid in any case. I would sooner see all +the sorrows of the world, and realise them, as far as I am able, than +turn aside. But my fear is that I may be called upon to realise them. I +shall not like it, but if that is to be, I can assure you that I shall +not attempt to turn back. Not one step of the way which I have gone +along would I retrace. I will meet them all, I will realise them all. +And, in my own language, that means that I shall see Pan, the god of all +Nature, of the suffering and sorrow of Nature as well as the illimitable +life and joy of her. And to tell you the truth, I think it quite +probable that I may have to do so." + +The rain had stopped, and a sudden sough of the wind in the bushes +sounded as if some animal had strayed there. Twigs creaked as if broken; +small branches swayed. Also, so it seemed to Philip, the wind brought +with it some faint, indefinable aroma, evoked no doubt by this rain from +some shrub in the garden. But for all his horticultural knowledge, he +could not give a name to it; it was pungent, of an animal flavour to the +nostrils, and reminded him, with the instantaneous evoking of memory +which scent possesses above all the other senses, of a _châlet_ in +which he had once taken refuge from a sudden mountain storm in some Alp +above Zermatt. Tom, too, just then threw back his head, and seemed to +sniff for a moment in the air. But he made no comment, and continued-- + +"Yes, it was Evelyn who suggested that to me," he said. "His idea, I +think, was that somehow and somewhere the balance is struck, that if one +is overloaded with joy, some compensating pain has got to be put in +before one is complete. It may come in a moment, so I conjecture, or one +may have to suffer the agony of months and years, but of this I am sure, +that the balance is in favour of joy. If I have to suffer, my suffering +will be quite certainly less than the joy I have had. If the sorrows of +death come upon me, they will weigh--I am certain of this--less than the +ecstasies of life that have been mine. But, dear God, I have a long bill +to settle." + +The mention of Evelyn had roused black blood again. + +"He too will have a bill to pay," said Philip. + +Merivale took this quite impersonally. + +"Yes, Evelyn is extraordinarily happy," he said. "I have scarcely ever +known him otherwise. If he is right about me, he will have to be right +about himself. Poor chap! What a good thing it is that neither you nor I +have to be his judges, or have to apportion to him the dose of misery +which will suit him. How could one tell when a man has had enough to +make him whole, complete?" + +He got up quickly and looked out into the night. + +"Ah, we have all got to be made perfect," he cried. "I take it that no +man in his senses can have any doubt of that. The thing which is you, +that essential, vital flame, has got now or at some future time to burn +its best. I have to do the same; we shall all be strung up to perfection +either through joy, or, perhaps, if we are approaching it from the other +side, through some blinding pain. We all have to attempt to approach +perfection to the best of our abilities. Our abilities may make a +mistake; very likely they do. But I, when I attempt to approach the best +of me through the pleasant ways of joy and simplicity, I would not go +back one step to save myself from the pangs that may follow. I am very +likely blind, but, as far as I know, I do my best. Perhaps--who knows, +since my life has been an extraordinarily useless one, as the world +counts 'use,' the world may be right, and I shall have to embark on a +career of work in an office. But I don't think that is likely." + +Again he paused a moment, taking a deep breath of the night air into his +lungs. Then he turned round. + +"You told me not to pity you," he said, "and I tacitly agreed not to, +and fully intended not to. But the time has come when my pity cannot +hurt you. For I pity you from the same plane as that on which I perhaps +some day may be glad of your pity. You have suffered, and you are +suffering. Well, I pity you, as God pities you, supposing that suffering +does happen to be necessary. I would not spare you one pang of it, if +this is so, but I just put out my hand to you, saying that I am there, +and watching and worshipping, I may say, for if suffering is necessary +it is certainly sacred. I don't know that it is necessary; but if it is, +there am I, if that will do you any good, and there also are all those +who have suffered, watching you with the pity that cannot help healing a +little, and the sympathy that lightens. But if I were convinced, even +for the winking of an eye, and to save a woodlouse from the absence of +its dinner, that suffering must be, I should accept it all, and take not +only my share of it, but the share of anybody else who would be so good +as to shoulder me with it, for it is impossible to have enough or too +much of anything that is right. At present I have not seen--so as to +know--the necessity of it, though I have long known that all Nature +groans under it. Everything preys on something else--you prey on the +animals you eat, and the folk you make fools of on the Stock Exchange. +And Evelyn preys on you. Yes, yes. And I--I try to prey on nobody, but +perhaps this law of preying will some day be brought home to me. My joy, +which so weighs down the scale, may have its compensating burden of +suffering given to it. And whatever blackness of horror awaits me, I +won't turn back. My way of approach is this: to others there is the +rough-and-tumble of the world, to others the ascetic life. But I believe +that joy and life are the predominant factors; that is why I have chosen +them, it has been my business to get acquainted anyhow with them. But +what I absolutely refuse is the horrible mean, where one makes no +ventures, and but paddles on the shore of the eternal sea. Let the +breakers leave me high and dry and smashed on the shingle, or let me +steer through them and see the unimagined islands of myth and fable. But +I will not just pull my shoes and stockings off, and shriek when the +water comes up to my knee. Something, whatever it is, must infallibly be +so much better than nothing." + +He walked up and down the verandah once or twice with his long, smooth +step, moving with that peculiar grace and ease which denotes great +physical strength. He had forgotten about Philip, and Philip for the +first time had forgotten about Philip too. + +"But during these last years," he went on, "I have consciously and +deliberately turned my back on pain, because it is hideous, because it +is a foe to joy, and because I have not and do not now realise its +necessity. All I can say is, with Oliver Cromwell, it is just possible I +may be mistaken, and in that case I am sure I shall have to--ah, no, be +allowed to--learn my mistake. A child crying seems to me a dreadful +thing, a beggar by the wayside with a broken tobacco-pipe, and not a +penny to get another, the shriek of the rabbit when the stoat's teeth +fasten in its throat; they are all dreadful, and enemies to joy. But I +am no longer convinced, as I used to be, that pain is unnecessary; I am +beginning, as I said, to hold an open mind on the subject, and only say +that I believe I can realise myself best and bring myself best into +harmony with Nature, with the whole design, by avoiding it. Yet for me +also pain and suffering may be necessary. If so, let them come; I am +quite ready. I only hope that it will be soon over, that it will be so +frightful that I can't stand it. I should prefer that, some blinding, +dreadful flash of revelation, to any slow, remorseless grinding of the +truth into me. That, however, is not in my hands." + +Philip's mind had gone back again on to himself. + +"But how can it possibly be any good that those two should have behaved +like this to me?" he cried, speaking directly for the first time. "What +monstrous image do you make of the controller of the world and all our +destinies, if it is by his will that this is done to me which turns all +that may have been good in me into hatred and bitterness? Is that the +lesson that I am meant to learn--that those whom one loves best are +one's bitterest foes, and will hurt one most?" + +Tom stopped in his walk and sat down on the edge of the table by Philip. + +"My dear fellow," he said, "Oliver Cromwell will help us again. Is it +not just possible that you too are mistaken when you assume that your +trouble was sent you _in order that_ your love might be turned into +hate? That it should have happened so may (just possibly again) be in +some measure your fault. Could you not have done otherwise, and done +better? I don't want to preach, you know." + +Philip sat silent, but his face hardened again. + +"If I could have done better, it would not have been I," he said. "It +would have been altogether another man." + +Tom got down off the table. + +"Ah, you repudiate moral responsibility for your own acts," he said. + +"Not exactly that. I say that there may be circumstances under which +one's will is crumpled up like a piece of waste paper, and one's powers +of resistance are paralysed. Don't you believe that?" + +Merivale shook his head. + +"No, I don't believe that the power of choice is ever taken away from +one while one remains sane," he said. "The moment one cannot choose, the +doors of Bedlam are opened." + +Philip got up. + +"They are still ajar for me," he said. "But they were more widely open +when I came here. For pity's sake, Tom, go on helping me. It is only +you, I think, who can get them closed for me." + +He paused a moment, looking out into the still blackness of the garden, +and again something stirred and creaked in the bushes, and the drowsy +wind was tainted with some sharp smell. He turned to Tom-- + +"I wonder if all that you have been saying is a fairy tale," he said, +"and whether I have been taking it literally, so that I imagine that +things which are only, and can only be, allegorical and mythical are +true." + +"You mean the Pan-pipes, for instance, which I heard for the first time +at Pangbourne, and which I hear so often now?" asked Merivale. + +"Yes, that among other things. Pan himself, too. I begin to think of Pan +as a real being, the incarnation of all the terror and fear and sorrow +of the world. The crying child you spoke of is part of Pan, the shriek +of the rabbit is part of him. All these things, as you say, you have +turned your back on. What if they should all be shown you suddenly, they +and the huge significance and universality of them?" + +Merivale looked quite grave; anyhow it was no fairy story to him, +whatever it might be to others. + +"Yes, that is all possible," he said, "and that will mean that I shall +see Pan. What a wonderful mode of expression that is of the Greeks. For +Pan means 'everything,' and to see everything would be clearly more than +one could stand. And so to see Pan means death." + +Once again the strange, pungent odour was noticeable. + +"Where are you going to sleep to-night?" asked Philip suddenly. + +"Oh, in the hammock," said Tom. "I hardly ever sleep in the house." + +Then a more definite, though utterly fantastic, fear seized Philip. + +"No, sleep in the house to-night," he said, feeling that his fear was +too childish to be allowed utterance. + +At that Merivale laughed; there was no need for Philip to utter his +thought, for he knew perfectly well what it was. + +"I know what you mean," he said, "but do you think that if Pan is going +to visit me he will only come into the garden, and not into the house? +You are mixing up the fear of Pan with the general sense of insecurity +about sleeping out of doors, which comes from unfamiliarity with that +delightful way of spending the night. And I know another thing you felt; +you heard an odd rustling in the bushes, as I often hear it, and you +smelt a rather queer smell, something rather pungent, and it reminded +you of a goat. Of course Pan used to appear, so the Greek myth said, in +goat form, and your inference was that Pan was in those bushes. But he +is just as much in this verandah, and, for that matter, in Piccadilly, +poor thing! There is quite certainly no getting away from him; I am as +safe here as I should be if I was locked into the strong-room in the +Bank of England. For it is not just to this place or that that he comes, +but to this person or that." + +They parted after this, Philip going upstairs to his bedroom, while Tom, +after changing into a sleeping suit, went out with a rug over his arm +into the dusky halls of the night. Sleep, when the time for sleep had +come, visited him as quickly as it visits every healthy animal; and if +it kept aloof, he no more worried about it, or tried to woo it, than he +would take appetising scraps of caviare or olives to make him hungry. +And to-night he lay for some time, not tossing or turning in his +hammock, but with eyes wide open, looking through the tracery of briar +and leaf above him into the sombre darkness of the clouds overhead. So +dark was it that the foliage was only just blacker than the sky, and to +right and left the trees were shapeless blots against it. But all that +mattered was that sky and clouds and trees were all round him, and that +he could sink and merge himself in the spirit and the life with which +they were impregnated. He lay open to it; just as his lungs were filled +with the open air and his body vivified by it, so his soul and spirit +drank in and breathed that open, essential life that ran through all +things, the life that day by day he more fully realised to be One thing, +expressing itself in the myriad forms of tree and beast and man. And +though still that curious rustle and stir went on in the bushes, and +though once he thought he heard the tap as of some hoofed thing upon the +brick path of the pergola, he did not stir, nor did any sense of dismay +or fear come to him. He had followed the path which he believed was his, +striving to make himself one with the eternal harmony of Nature, and if +the revelation of her discords was to come to him, come it would; the +matter was not in his hands. But in whoever's hands it was, he was +content to leave it there. + +Philip meantime fared less easily in his bed indoors. The talk this +evening had brought back to him with a terrible vividness all he had +been through, the bitterness and hatred of his own heart all blossomed +poisonously again, now that Merivale had gone, and he was left alone in +the darkness and quiet of the night. That there was some subtle and very +powerful influence which surrounded the Hermit like an atmosphere of his +own he felt fully; in his company he knew how strong a sense of healing +and serenity was abroad, but to-night, at any rate, all his foes, which +he had almost dared to hope were being vanquished and left for dead, +were rising about him again in ghostly battalions. He had, so he dimly +hoped, begun to slay them, but it seemed for the moment that he had been +but smiting at shadows that took no hurt from his blows. For a little +while he had been able to set his face forward, to fancy that he was +beginning really to make way, but now, as he glanced back over his +shoulder, the enemy pursued undiminished after him. Again he felt his +lips were quivering with sheer hatred of those who had so hurt him, and +his hands were clenched in passionate desire to strike. And thus for +hours he tossed and turned, until his window again, as in Jermyn Street, +began to "grow a glimmering square," and the tentative notes of birds to +flute in the bushes, and he was back again in those darkest hours he had +ever known. + +Then his bed became intolerable, and he rose from it and walked about +the room, until the huelessness of the earliest dawn began to be touched +with colour. Never since the blow had fallen upon him had he been able +to pray; his bitterness and hatred had come like the figure of Satan +himself between him and prayer. + +Philip suddenly paused; another dawn was beginning to break, a dawn yet +remote and far off in the Eastern skies, but a faint, dim streak of +light was there. It was indeed true; it was his own hatred, his own +bitterness, not what others had done to him, which had stood in his way, +and, as Merivale had said, the power of choice was in possession of +every man who was fit to move about the world. He had accepted that when +it was stated to him; he knew it to be true, and thus choice was still +his. He had to choose, and to choose now. Did he want to hate and be +bitter? Did he deliberately, in so far as he could choose, choose that? + +So, though no word crossed his lips or was even formed in his brain, he +prayed. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +SIXTEENTH + + +The elder Lady Ellington had never yet in the whole course of her +combative life been knocked out of time by the blows of adverse +circumstances, and she did not intend to begin being knocked out now. +That Madge's marriage was a frightful disaster she did not deny or seek +to conceal, but her admirable habits of self-control and her invariable +custom of never letting anything dwell on her mind or make her worry, +served her in good stead now. She considered that Madge and Evelyn had +both behaved quite unpardonably, and though she had no thought of +pardoning either of them, she had no thought of dwelling on the matter. +When the thing was done, it was done, and, like David, she, so to speak, +proposed to go and oil herself--in other words, to pay her customary +round of summer and autumn visits, carrying with her all her old +inflexible firmness and readiness to advise. For Philip, finally, she +hardly felt pity at all; a man really must be a fool if he could lose +his wife like that at the eleventh hour. It was impossible to acquit him +altogether of blame, though it would have puzzled her who had so nearly +been his mother-in-law to say exactly where the blame lay. General +incapacity to keep what was morally one's own perhaps covered it, and +incapacity of all kinds she detested. + +These visits took her up to Scotland about the middle of August, since +this was on the whole the easiest way of not getting out of touch with +people. Scotland, if one went to the right houses, she considered to be +a sort of barometer as to the way people would behave, and the general +trend of affairs go, when the gatherings began for the autumn parties in +England and people came up to London in the spring; and though she could +not have been considered exactly a conventional woman, she very much +wanted to know what kind of line society in general would take about +Madge. For with all her hard shrewdness, she had not what we may call a +sensitive social touch. When Society beat time she could follow it with +scrupulous exactitude, but she was not capable of conducting herself. +And this concerted piece was rather complex, and though Society had been +so unanimous in its condemnation at the time, Lady Ellington, knowing it +pretty well, did not feel at all sure that the sentence it passed on +July 28th would not be reprieved, whether, in fact, Society would not +say that there had been a miscarriage of justice, and that Madge--and +Evelyn, for that matter--were entirely innocent and even laudable. For +if Philip had wealth, which he undoubtedly had, and Madge had thrown +that overboard, she had at any rate picked up, as one picks up a pilot, +a man with extraordinary charm and extraordinary gifts, about whom +Society was even now on the point of losing its head. Evelyn, in fact, +if he continued to be as gay as he always was, to enjoy himself as +thoroughly, and also continued to paint pictures which really furnished +Society with conversation to quite a remarkable degree, promised well to +be as desirable a husband as the other. Also Philip's stern attention to +business during the month of August had done his cause, as has been +mentioned, no inconsiderable damage. Indeed if he had married old Lady +Ellington instead it perhaps would have been more suitable. But having +failed to secure the rose, he had not shown any inclination to be near +it, and had gone to the City instead. + +It was all this which Lady Ellington hoped to pick up in Scotland. She +wanted, in fact, to know what would be her most correct attitude towards +Madge. Her own personal attitude she knew well enough; she was still +quite furious with her. But (she put it to herself almost piously) it is +better sometimes to sink the personal feeling in the deep waters of the +public good, just as you drown a superfluous kitten. However she felt +privately, it might be kinder and wiser to conceal and even eradicate +that personal grudge. She went, in fact, in order to see whether Society +was possibly taking a more Christian line about her daughter than her +daughter's mother really was. Strange as the fact may sound, this was +the fact, for it would never do that Madge's mother should on the one +hand be estranged from her daughter, while all the world embraced her; +nor, on the other, that Madge's mother should continue to embrace her +daughter while all the world discreetly looked the other way and said +"That minx!" + +Now, as has already been briefly stated, the country verdict about +Madge, the verdict, that is to say, of London gone into the country, had +reaped the benefit of country air and early hours. The personal +inconvenience and the necessary incidental chatter had died down; nobody +really cared about it; the stern condemnation originally made was felt +to be but a hollow voice, and Society, which, whatever may be said about +it, is really rather indulgent, just as it hopes individually for +indulgence, in that most unlikely contingency of indulgence being +desirable, was already, without the slightest sign of embarrassment, +executing a _volte-face_. For if the _volte-face_ is general, the only +embarrassment arises from not executing it. And Lady Dover's house, +which, so to speak, kept social Greenwich time without error, was the +first place that Lady Ellington visited. + +It was only this strong sense of duty--duty towards Madge--that drew her +there; otherwise nothing would have induced her to go. There was a night +in the train and a day in the train, and at the end of that a +thirty-mile drive starting from a spot called Golspie. Her experience of +Golspie was that it rained, and that an endless road stretched over mile +after mile of moor, where it rained worse than in Golspie. But in +Scotland it is officially supposed never to rain; the utmost that can +happen in the way of moisture is that it should be "saft." She arrived +at Golspie, an open motor-car was waiting for her, and it was "saft." +Also the motor could not take all her luggage; that was to follow in a +cart. The cart, so she mentally calculated, if it did not stick in a bog +(not a wet one, only a "saft" one) might arrive about midnight. Another +passenger also alighted at Golspie; the present bearer of her husband's +title. He too was going to Lady Dover's, and the motor was to take them +both. He hazarded that this was "awfully jolly," but he seemed not to +have said the right thing. + +The softness grew softer as they breasted the hills, and Lady Ellington +really wondered whether this was worth while. But the conclusion must +have been that it was, otherwise she would have had no hesitation in +turning back even now and sleeping at Golspie, if sleep could be +obtained in so outlandish a spot. She knew well too what her week there +would be; a Scotch breakfast, the departure of the male sex to the +hills, with fishing "in the burn" probably for those who remained; the +return of the male sex about six, their instant dispersal to baths and +their own rooms; dinner, no bridge, but conversation, and the final +dispersal of everybody about half-past ten. Yet it was worth it; from +here, goodness knew why, ticked out the "correct attitude." Lady Dover's +opinion, not because she was clever, so said her guest to herself, but +because she was completely ordinary, would be an infallible sign as to +what the rest of the world would think about Madge. Assembled at her +house too would be those who, right and left, would endorse Lady Dover's +opinion, not because she had intimated it to them, but because they +would naturally think as she did. It was, in fact, the bourgeois +conclusion of the upper class that she sought. + +Bourgeois conclusions of all sorts she got on her drive. + +"Devilish evening, eh?" said Lord Ellington. "Makes one wonder if it's +worth while. Thirty miles of this, isn't it, shofer?" + +"Yes, my lord; thirty-two miles." + +"Well, let's get on a bit; don't you think so, Lady Ellington? Put your +foot down on some of those pedals, and turn some of those handles, eh? +And how's all going, Lady Ellington? Rum thing; there'll be two Lady +Ellingtons in the house. Gladys arrived three days ago. I couldn't. +Detained, don't you know. I always say detained, eh?" + +All this anyhow was a kind of olive branch. It continued with but short +replies on her part, to wave in the wind. + +"Awful smash, wasn't it?" continued he. "Gladys and I were very sorry. +Good fellow, Home, he put her--me--up to an investment or two that +turned out well. But there's no telling about girls; kittle cattle, you +know, eh? I daresay she's awfully happy--what? And of course the man +doesn't matter. Men are meant to go to the wall. Lord, how it rains!" + +Lady Ellington did not really mind rain; she knew too that even this +man, whom she detested, had his vote in public opinion, and, what was +more, he reflected public opinion, like some newspaper. What he said +other people would say. She did not in the least want the vote of +bohemian circles, any more than she wanted the vote of bishops; what +she wanted to know was the general opinion of her class. A most elusive +thing it was, and one on which it was intensely rash to risk a prophecy. +For one person would be found with a stolen halter in her hand, and yet +no one would say that the halter was dishonestly come by; another would +but look over a hedge, and the whole world would say that the design was +to steal horse and halter too. To which class did Madge, with her calm +eyes, belong in the world's opinion? + +"Yes, of course, it has been terrible," she said. "My poor girl has gone +so utterly astray. What could have been nicer than the marriage that was +arranged?" + +"Well, she seems to have found something she thought nicer," said her +companion. + +"Yes, but from the sensible point of view. Supposing you fell in love +with a match girl----" + +Lord Ellington gave a loud, hoarse laugh. + +"Trust Gladys for hoofing her out of it in double quick time," he +remarked. + +Yet this, too, was what Lady Ellington sought; vulgar, hopeless as the +man was, he yet reflected the opinion of the average person, which it +was her purpose to learn. For the votes of the "Moliere's housemaids" +will always swamp those of the most enlightened critics, and the +popularity of the play depends on them. And Lady Dover's house was a +sort of central agency for such opinions; smart, respectable, and rich +people congregated there, who were utterly conventional, not because +they feared Mrs. Grundy, but because they were Mrs. Grundy--she herself, +and no coloured imitation of her. The good old home-brewed, national, +typical, English upper-class view of life might here really be said to +have its fountain head, and to have stayed in the house was a sort of +certificate that you were all right. Scandal might, just possibly, +twitter afterwards about some one of Lady Dover's guests; but these +twitterings would be harmless, for the knowledge that he or she about +whom it twittered had stayed at Glen Callan would convince all +right-minded people that there was nothing in it. + +It was after eight when they arrived, and when they emerged into the +light and warmth of the hall, hung round, as was suitable in the +Highlands, with rows of stags' heads and sporting prints, dinner had +already begun. But Lady Dover came out of the dining-room with her +husband to welcome them. + +"Dear Lady Ellington," she said, "what a dreadful drive you must have +had. But no one minds rain in Scotland, do they? How are you, Lord +Ellington? So nice that you could come together! Gladys arrived two days +ago. Mr. Osborne calls her the fishmonger, because she really supplies +us all with fish; we are now eating the grilse she caught this +afternoon. Take Lord Ellington to his room, will you, Dover? Pray don't +make anything of a toilet, Lady Ellington; it is the Highlands, you +know. We went in to dinner because I felt sure you would prefer that we +should. It is so much nicer to feel that one is keeping nobody waiting, +is it not?" + +There was only a small party in the house, so Lady Ellington found when +she joined them in the dining-room. Mr. Osborne, whose brilliant +_sobriquet_ for Gladys has already sparkled on these pages, was there; +he was a very wealthy man, who had married Lady Angela Harvey, the +daughter of a Duke, and was one of the main props and pillars of English +Protestantism. Lady Angela was there too, thin-lipped and political, +sitting next Seymour Dennison, the Royal Academician, who had painted +and exhibited so many miles of Sutherlandshire scenery that, were all +the ordnance maps lost, it might almost have been possible to +reconstruct the county again from his pictures without any fresh survey. +His wife, of course, whom he had only lately married, was also of the +party; Lady Dover had not previously met her, for she had lived in +Florence, and though there was a certain risk about asking to the house +someone who was really quite unknown, still to ask Mr. Dennison without +his wife would have been to stigmatise her, which Lady Dover would never +do without good reason. Harold Aintree, a first cousin of Lady Dover's, +completed, with Gladys and her husband, the party of ten. He, too, was +eminently in place, for he was a great traveller in out-of-the-way +countries, which is always considered an enlightened pursuit. Moreover, +you could read all his published accounts of them without having any +sensibility or delicacy offended. Savage tribes, so his experiences +showed, and Australian aborigines, had a true and unfailing sense of +propriety. + +Lady Ellington's place was next her host, and as she ate the grilse, +Lord Dover told her about it. Gladys was his cousin, therefore he +referred to her by her Christian name. + +"Gladys caught that grilse only this afternoon," he said. "A beautifully +fresh fish, is it not? Mr. Osborne calls her the fishmonger. Lady +Fishmonger Ellington, was it not, Osborne?" + +Mr. Osborne paused in his conversation with Mrs. Dennison to bow his +acknowledgments. + +"But Lady Ellington fishes too," he said. "We shall get into terrible +confusion now." + +"Ah, you must find another name for her," said Lady Dover. "Is it not a +beautiful fish, Lady Ellington? The flesh is so firm. Dover says it +could not have been up from the sea more than a day or two." + +Mr. Osborne resumed his talk with Mrs. Dennison, whom he was questioning +about the churches in Florence. Otherwise there was a moment's pause +round the table, which was unfortunate, as she just then referred to the +Catholic churches, meaning the Roman Catholic churches. She corrected +her error, however, on seeing the questioning look in his face, and the +general conversation was resumed. + +"Yes, the sunset was one sheet of intolerable glory," said Seymour +Dennison to his hostess, "and how little one expected that this rain was +coming. What a wet drive Lady Ellington must have had." + +"I did not see the sunset," said she. "I returned to write a few +letters. You must describe it to us, Mr. Dennison, not in words but in +colours. The sunsets here this year have been quite remarkable. They +have been so very varied; no two alike, so far as I have seen." + +Seymour Dennison was always in character as the poetical interpreter of +Nature. His words, in fact, were generally as highly coloured as his +canvases. + +"And yet perhaps the finest sunsets one ever sees are at Hyde Park +Corner," he said. "Is it not a wonderful thing how Nature takes the foul +smoke of our cities, and by that alchemy of light transmutes them into +those unimaginable spectacles which even the eye, much less the hand, +cannot fully grasp and realise? Light! Where would the world be without +light?" + +Lord Ellington had a moment's spasmodic desire to answer "In the dark," +but he checked it. It was as well he did. + +"That dying cry of Goethe's is so wonderful, is it not?" said Lady +Angela, turning to Harold Aintree, and picking up this thread. "'More +light, more light,' you know." + +Harold cleared his throat; he seldom spoke except in paragraphs. + +"It is extraordinary how the most savage tribes have a deep sense of +natural beauty," he said. "I remember entering a settlement in Zambesi +at evening, and finding all the inhabitants sitting in rows watching the +setting of the sun. It appears to be a religious ceremony, akin to some +way to the sun-worship of the Parsees. Even the most rudimentary +civilisation--this particular tribe of the Zambesi, I may remind you, +are cannibals--show traces of some appreciation of the beauties of +Nature. Indeed one almost thinks that perhaps civilisation obscures that +appreciation. Else how do we in England consent to live in the sordid +ugliness of the towns we build?" + +He turned half-left as he spoke, to pick up Lady Ellington, so to speak, +for Lord Dover had crossed over to Gladys, with whom he was again +discussing the grilse she had been so fortunate as to catch that +afternoon. + +"Ah, but we don't all live in cities, Mr. Aintree," she said, "and I +think that there is a great return to simplicity going on. Don't you +remember last July how we all took to lentils and no hats? And think of +Mr. Merivale, who lives in the New Forest, you know, and makes birds +come and sit on his hand. We went down there, you know, Madge and I, and +saw it all." + +The simplification of life, therefore, took the place of sunsets, and +spread slowly round the table, moving with a steady sort of current; +there was nothing that flashed or sparkled, Mr. Osborne only suggesting +that if we all went to live in the country it would become as bad as a +town, and if we all lived on lentils, the price would go up so much that +few could afford it. Lady Ellington, however, cleared those small +matters up, gave it to be understood that Mr. Merivale owed a good deal +to her suggestions, and rather congratulated herself on having got +Madge's name introduced. + +Dinner over, a variety of innocent pursuits occupied the party. Mr. +Dennison, with a good deal of address, did some conjuring tricks (the +same as he had done last night and the night before, and would do again +next night and the night after), Lord Dover continued to discuss +Gladys' grilse (it was such a fresh-run fish) with various members of +the party, and at ten o'clock was held what was called the "council of +war," though why "war" was not quite clear, since the purposes of it +were wholly pacific, and merely consisted in the discussion of plans for +the next day. Lord Ellington, it was settled, should try for a stag, Mr. +Osborne and his host were to go grouse-shooting together, Mr. Dennison +would be amply occupied in recording the upper beauties of the Glen--he +had not as yet painted more than three-quarters of a mile of it--Lady +Angela and Mrs. Dennison were to drive over and see some friends in the +neighbourhood, while it was universally acclaimed that Lady Fishmonger +Ellington should again exercise her remarkable skill on the river. And +on old Lady Ellington's saying that she would like to fish too, Mr. +Osborne rose to the occasion. + +"We already have Lady Grilse Ellington," he said, "and I am sure +to-morrow evening we shall have Lady Salmon Ellington." + +This brought the council of war to a really epigrammatic ending, and +Lady Dover rose with her customary speech. + +"We all go to bed very early here, Lady Ellington," she said. "Being out +all day in the fresh air makes one sleepy. What is the glass doing, +Dover?" + +"Going up a bit." + +"Then let us hope you will have a fine day to-morrow for your painting, +Mr. Dennison. I shall come up the Glen with you in the morning, if you +will let me, and go down to the river after lunch to see what the +fishmongers--I beg their pardon, it is Lady Salmon and Lady Grilse, is +it not?--have done." + +Before half-past ten therefore all the ladies were in their rooms, and +since breakfast was not till a quarter to ten next morning, it might be +hoped that they would all sleep off the effects of being out all day in +the fresh air. And though Lady Ellington did not feel in the least +inclined to go to her room, and almost everyone else would have sat up +as long as she chose, obliging, if necessary, her hostess to sit up too, +she never at Glen Callan found herself equal to proposing any other +arrangements than those which were made for her, or indeed of +criticising anything. For there was a deadly regularity about +everything, against which it was useless to rebel, and to dream of +suggesting anything was an unthinkable attitude to adopt. She knew, too, +exactly what would happen now, just as she had known speeches about the +barometer would precede their going upstairs. Lady Dover, since it was +her first night, would come with her to her room, ask her if she had +everything she wanted, poke the fire for her, and say, "Well, I am sure +you must be tired after your journey. I will leave you to get a good +rest. Breakfast at a quarter to ten, or would you sooner have it in your +room?" + +But Lady Ellington felt she would probably be equal to facing the world +again after eleven hours of retirement, and said she would come down. + +"It is a movable feast, dear," said Lady Dover, as she went out; "in +fact, we do not think punctuality at all a virtue at breakfast." + +And a small but certain suspicion darted into Lady Ellington's mind that +her hostess had said exactly the same thing to her just a year ago, when +she came to Glen Callan. She wondered how often she had said it since. + + * * * * * + +Breakfast was a very bright and cheerful meal at Glen Callan; everyone +was refreshed by his long night after the day in the fresh air and ready +for another one. Lady Grilse and Lady Salmon were already spoken of by +the very clever names that Mr. Osborne had found for them, and he +further seemed inclined to christen Lord Ellington as Lord Stag. But the +dreary amazement in that gentleman's face when Mr. Osborne made +soundings on this point prevented its total success, though Dennison +considered it excellent. He himself, though he had to walk but half a +mile along a nearly level road to the particular point where he was +painting, had so keen a sense of local colour, that, in deference to the +fact that this road was in Scotland, he had put on knickerbockers, a +Norfolk jacket, and thick shooting-boots. The Norfolk jacket also had a +leather pad on the shoulder, so that the cloth should not be soiled by +contact with possible oil on the barrels of his gun. But since he never +carried nor had ever used a gun, this precaution was almost unnecessary. +Still there is no harm in being prepared for any contingency, however +unlikely. + +The morning was cloudy but fine, and the clouds were high. In front of +the windows of the dining-room the ground fell sharply away into the +glen, through which brawled the coffee-coloured water of the river where +the two ladies were to fish, and Mr. Dennison, as he walked about eating +his porridge, a further recognition to the fact that this was Scotland, +drew attention to the beautiful contrasts of green and russet in the +glen. He also mislaid the spoon with which he had intended to eat his +porridge, and after drawing attention to his loss, apparently drew the +spoon out of Mr. Osborne's breast pocket. He was accustomed to be the +life and soul of the party, and had equal command over the flowers of +language and the easier feats of sleight of hand. The flowers of +language were his next preoccupation, for Lady Dover had hoped that +there would be enough sun for him to work at his picture. + +"We landscape painters," he said, "are terribly at the mercy of the +elements. We may perhaps half-grasp a conception, a cloudy effect, it +may be, and then we are given a fortnight of bright and blazing +sunshine. What are we to do? Begin another picture? Ah, that is to let +the first conception fade. I spent a month once in Skye watching for an +effect I had seen ten years before. Not a stroke of the brush did I make +all that month; I waited. Then one morning it came." + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"Quite a small picture," he said, "and I sold it for a song. But my +reward was the fact that I had waited for it. That was my imperishable +possession; my character, my artistic character, was at stake. And I +won; yes, I won." + +Lady Dover broke in upon the sympathetic pause. + +"But a portrait-painter, Mr. Dennison," she said; "surely he may have to +wait also for the same look to appear on the face of his sitter. Is not +the sitter as fickle as the clouds or the sun?" + +Dennison had finished his porridge, and was seated on Lady Dover's left. +He drew with his long white forefinger a few imagined lines in the air. + +"No, I don't think so," he said. "There are the features; the light can +be adjusted. You have but to awake again the train of thought that was +in the sitter's mind, and the expression, which after all is only a +matter of line, becomes the same again. Look at Dundas's pictures, for +instance. I do not deny their merit; but what is there? Five sweeps of +the brush is the face, literally no more. A piece of mere scene-painting +is the background, a bunch of bananas is the hand, I assure you, a bunch +of bananas. That would not be my scheme if I was a portrait painter. I +should study my sitter till the very finger-nails were an integral part +of the picture, so that the picture would be incomplete without them. +Poor Dundas, I think we have heard the last of him. This terrible----" + +The silence that succeeded this unfortunate speech was one that might, +like darkness, be felt. Mr. Dennison, intoxicated by his own voice, had +"forgotten." The silence made him remember. But the silence, though +pregnant, was of almost infinitesimal duration, for Lord Dover +immediately resorted to the grilse caught the day before, which was now +kedgeree; his wife from the other end of the table, and without +consultation, recommended Mr. Osborne to try it, and Lady Angela looked +forward in anticipation to the lovely views that she and Mrs. Dennison +were certain to enjoy during their drive. But this instinctive buzz to +bury what had gone before died down, and the dead subject seemed like to +have a disconcerting and resurging silence. But Lady Dover, whose mind +was already made up on this subject, indicated her attitude. She turned +to Lady Ellington, who sat three places from her, and in her quiet voice +the social oracle thundered prophecy and promise-- + +"And how is dear Madge, Lady Salmon?" she said. "I wonder if we could +induce her and Mr. Dundas to come for a week or two before we go south? +It would be such a pleasure. She would enjoy these beautiful walks, I am +sure, and Mr. Dundas must be so very hard-worked that I am certain a +little holiday would do him good." + +That was the _pronunciamento_ for which Lady Ellington really had come +here, weighing light all the discomfort of travel and the dulness of the +days that she anticipated. It had been forced, squirted as it were, out +of her hostess, but nobody had ever squirted out of Lady Dover anything +insincere. She often, in fact, refrained from saying all she meant, but +she never said what she did not mean. Her word was as good as the bond +of anybody else's; it was trustworthy coinage, sterling in its own +dominions. And Lady Ellington accepted it as such, not ringing it or +testing it in any way. That it was given her was quite enough. + +"I am sure Madge would love to come," she said, "if she can only +tear"--she could not help hesitating a moment--"tear dear Evelyn away +from his work. He is so busy; everybody wants to be painted by him. And +I'm sure I don't wonder. His portrait of Madge! It is too extraordinary! +You expect her to get down from the easel and say something +characteristic. The hands, too, surely, Mr. Dennison, you don't think +the hands are like bunches of bananas in Mr. Dundas's picture of my +daughter?" + +Mr. Dennison had not seen the picture; he hastened also to qualify what +he had said before. The qualification did not fare quite so well at his +hands as the missing spoon had done. That in itself was not +extraordinary, since there was no comparison between the respective +difficulties of effecting these two disappearances. But breakfast was +practically over, and the need for beating a further retreat was thus +reduced to an irreducible minimum. + +The shooters and the stalker went their ways immediately, the motor-car +was also soon round to convey Lady Angela and Mrs. Dennison to their +friends, and it was not extraordinary that the artist did not join the +remainder of the party on the terrace. Gladys also had gone to consult +with the gillie on the question of flies, and thus in ten minutes Lady +Dover and Lady Ellington were alone in their after-breakfast stroll. The +latter, as usual, went straight to the point; she did not want to talk +about salmon pools and rowan-berries or the prospects of slain stags; +she had come here to find out what Lady Dover thought about Madge. For +this purpose she called Lady Dover by her Christian name, as one has to +begin some time. Her Christian name was Susan, a name inimical for +confidences, but it could not be helped now. + +"Oh, Susan," she said, "you don't mind my calling you that, do you, +because I feel such friends with you. You have no idea how relieved I +am. I wanted so much to know what you thought about poor Madge, and I +should have found it so hard to begin, unless you had said what you did +say at breakfast about asking them here. Of course it was all a terrible +grief to me, you can well understand that." + +"Yes, dear?" said Lady Dover interrogatively. + +"I know you see what I mean. The marriage with Philip Home was so nice, +so suitable, and it was all arranged. People stopped in London +particularly for it." + +Lady Dover's calm eyes surveyed the terrace, the glen, and lastly her +companion. + +"But surely that is rather a conventional view to take," she said. "What +does a little inconvenience matter, if your daughter's happiness is +secured? I am told they are devoted to each other." + +Now Lady Ellington in her most wild and wayward dreams had never +conceived it possible that she could be called, or remotely labelled, +"conventional" by Susan. She had much to learn, however. + +"I hope I am not a slave to convention, or anything of the sort," +continued Lady Dover; "but if Madge really loved Mr. Dundas, why on +earth should she not marry him? Suppose she had married Mr. Home, and +found out afterwards she was not really fond of him? One does not like +to contemplate such things; there is a certain suspicion of coarseness +even in the thought. I do not know what the view of the world may be, +for the view of the world concerns me very little, but I feel quite sure +that a girl is right in obeying the dictates of her own heart." + +Lady Ellington longed to contradict all this; it was not in the least in +accord with what she felt, and what she felt she was accustomed to +state. Thus the suppression of it was not easy. + +"How lovely those lights on the hillside are," said Lady Dover, in +parenthesis. "Mr. Dennison ought to see them before he settles on the +subject of his next picture. Yes, about Madge. I don't know what other +people think about it all, I only know what I think, and I am sure Dover +agrees with me. It was a love match, was it not? What more do you want? +Of course if Mr. Home had been a duke and Madge a girl without any +position----" + +"You mean it is just a question of degree?" asked Lady Ellington. + +"Ah, my dear--er--Margaret," said Lady Dover, with a certain intonation +of relief, because she was sure that her excellent memory had not played +her false, "everything is a question of degree; there is nothing in the +world into which circumstances, mitigating or the reverse, do not +enter. How beautiful the rowan-berries are, I wish Mr. Dennison could +see them. They would work into his foreground so well. I must take him +to the end of the terrace to-morrow. Yes; but the mitigating +circumstances are here so strong. She threw over Mr. Home, who is +charming--I met him twice last year at dinner somewhere, and we asked +him to lunch, only he could not come--and has married a man who is +charming also, with whom she fell in love. How vivid his portraits are, +too; I am going to be painted by him next spring, if he can find time. +Almost too vivid, perhaps; they seem to jump out on you. But that is my +view about the whole question. Supposing she had married Mr. Home, and +had fallen in love afterwards! That sort of tragedy is so dreadful; such +extraordinary cleverness is required to avoid all the horror of +publicity. I could never survive publicity." + +"But there is publicity as it is," said Lady Ellington. "Poor Madge! +What will people think of her? And of me?" + +Lady Dover throughout this conversation had given justification after +justification for the importance that Lady Ellington attached to her +verdict. She gave more now. + +"There is publicity, it is true," she said; "but no sense of +respectability has been offended. Of her, they will think that she fell +in love and followed her instincts. Of you, they will think that you +tried, like an excellent mother, to secure an excellent match for your +daughter, but that your daughter chose for herself." + +Lady Dover's serene face grew a shade more shrewd. + +"You see, she has not married Tom or Dick or James," she said. "Mr. +Dundas, in fact, is a sufficiently important person. Was it that you +meant, by the way, by saying it was a question of degree? I don't know +what his income is; it may be precarious. But he has great talent. And +talent happens to be rather fashionable. I daresay it is only a phase, +but after all one wants, if the sacrifice of no principle is involved, +to be abreast with the world." + +Now Lady Ellington could not possibly have been called a conceited +woman, and her conviction that she was herself pretty well abreast of +the world was founded on sober experience. She was up to most things, in +fact; the world, on the whole, did not worst her. Yet when Susan spoke +of being abreast of the world, she was conscious that another plane +altogether was indicated, a plane to which she had to struggle and +aspire, whereas Susan moved quite easily and naturally on it. All the +way from Golspie she had been labeling her hostess as conventional, but +what if this conventionalism came out on the other side, so to speak, +and was really the summit of worldly wisdom, a peak, not a mediocre +plateau, where Susan and others walked gently about, as at some place of +corrective waters, exchanging commonplaces. For Lady Dover, she was +beginning to see, was not in the least conventional because it was the +way of the world; she was conventional because she was made like that. +It was the world, in fact, which was conventional because it was like +Lady Dover, not Lady Dover who was conventional because she was like the +world. Indeed she had spoken no more than the truth when she said the +opinion of the world did not matter to her--it did not; she never had to +take it into consideration, simply because it was quite certain to +coincide with her own. And Lady Ellington found herself thinking that +when Susan died her portrait ought really to be put in a stained glass +window, a figure that should typify for all time the solid, respectable, +virtuous aspects of the British aristocracy. + +They walked in silence for a few moments, for there was really nothing +more to say on the subject. Then Lady Ellington took Susan's arm and +pressed it. + +"It is a great, great relief to me to know you feel like that," she +said, "and you have made my line with regard to Madge so clear. Poor +Madge, I have been too hard on her, but the disappointment was so great. +I could not help feeling for Philip, too." + +"Of course one is always sorry for people in trouble," said Lady Dover, +"particularly if it is not their fault. I will write to Madge this +morning. And now, do you know, it is almost time you went off to the +river. I insist on your being Lady Salmon by this evening. Mr. Osborne +is so quick and clever, is he not?" + + + + +SEVENTEENTH + + +Lady Dover put into instant execution her promise to ask Madge and her +husband to come and stay, and half an hour later set off with Mr. +Dennison up the glen to the scene of his picture; the "original," as she +called it. As usual, in her interview with Lady Ellington she had +behaved quite straightforwardly, and had expressed and acted on the view +which she believed to be right, and though she could not help feeling +that Lady Ellington had referred to her rather as an oracle, whose +slightest word was a thing to be treasured up and reverently commented +on, she was not naturally at all self-conscious, and did not dwell on +the fact with any elation. Elation indeed she could not possibly have +felt, since, had she been pressed to say how highly she valued Lady +Ellington's opinion, she would have been forced to confess that, without +wishing to be unkind, she did not value it at all. Secretly, indeed, her +estimate was that poor Margaret wanted very much to be a woman of the +world, and only succeeded in being a worldly woman; she schemed (she had +no doubt schemed in the matter of Madge's marriage) and span threads in +all directions, with the unfortunate result that she only succeeded in +getting entangled in them herself. Lady Dover, on the other hand, never +schemed at all; she walked calmly along a broad highroad and admired the +flowers by the wayside. Consequently she was invariably free from +preoccupations, and could talk with the artist about the exquisite +lights and shadows on the hillside and the wonderful contrast of the +purple heather against the golden gorse with sincerity and attention. It +was quite possible also that they might see an eagle; one had been seen +at the top of the glen several times that year. + +Lady Ellington as she went down with Gladys to the river felt more +herself than she had felt ever since that stormy interview with Madge in +the New Forest. A sense of imperfect mastery had begun then, +terminating, on Madge's visit to the studio, in a terribly certain +conviction that she had no mastery at all. Madge, in fact, had made a +fool of her, and her resentment at it was impotent. She felt, too, that +the world very likely regarded her with a sort of amused pity, which was +hard to bear. But she felt sure now after this interview that the world +was going to forgive Madge and her husband, and welcome them to its +midst. Her own course of conduct therefore was clear, she must quite +certainly do the same, and if possible let it be understood that she +had, though sorry for Philip, realised that this marriage was +inevitable. Lady Dover had put this so plainly; how much better that +their mutual love should be discovered before the irremediable mistake +of Madge's marriage with Philip had been made. And since she was a woman +who never wasted time or anything else, she began immediately to lay the +foundations of this remarkably imaginative structure before Gladys. + +"Poor Mr. Dennison," she said, "I was so sorry for him at breakfast when +he said he thought we had heard the last of Evelyn. I am always sorry +for people who put their foot in it. But I suppose that would be the +middle-class view of poor Madge's marriage. It is easy to see that Mr. +Dennison is not quite a gentleman." + +This was so calm and glorious a disregard of all that she had previously +said, thought, and felt, that the very completeness of it roused +Gladys's admiration. Lady Ellington took her previous attitude off, like +a pair of gloves, just threw it into the gutter, and walked on. Gladys +knew it must have been Lady Dover's pronouncement that had caused this +change, for she too was aware that the social Greenwich time was largely +taken from Glen Callan, and had made a mental note, just as Madge's +mother had done, that she must also alter her own time by this. It +clearly would be too ridiculous if all London welcomed them back with +open arms, and only Madge's family turned their backs on her. But she +had a certain Puck-like sense of malice, particularly when she could +exercise it on Lady Ellington, and she could not resist a little tap or +two now. + +"I am so glad you take it like that," she said, "and see it as Lady +Dover does. At first, you know, I thought you were being too bitter +about it, and really, to tell you the truth, I had no idea that you +were taking Madge's part. Dear Madge; I hope they will ask her soon, +while I am still here." + +"Of course I was bitter about it at first," said Lady Ellington. "Who +could help being, when all my plans were upset, and poor Philip Home was +suffering too? I was more sorry for him than for anybody else. I had to +tell him, you know, and had a terrible interview with him. But I soon +saw that since Madge was not in love with him, but with Evelyn, it was a +thousand times better that we should all suffer that purely temporary +disturbance and worry than that she should be in the dreadfully false +position of being married to one man while she was in love with +another." + +Gladys purred a rather feline approval. + +"How glad dear Madge must have been when you told her how you felt," she +said. "I wish I had been there when you made it up with her. Who is it +who says something about the 'blessings on the falling out which all the +more endears'; it must have been quite like that." + +Lady Ellington met this as well as she could, though it was rather +awkward. + +"Yes, I think Madge will be perfectly happy," she said, "now she finds +that everyone is quite as nice as ever to her." + +"Dear Madge, I never felt different to her," said Gladys rather +imprudently. + +Lady Ellington jumped on to this with extraordinary quickness and +precision. + +"Ah, I am glad to know that," she said, "because I now also know that +Lady Taverner must have simply invented a quantity of things that she +said you had said to her about it. I felt sure you could not have been +so unkind." + +So the honours on the whole were pretty well divided; each of them saw +through the other, and since each determined to write to Madge that +night, it was highly likely that Madge would see through them both. + +Mr. Osborne proved to be a true prophet, and it was indeed Lady Salmon +and Lady Grilse who came back from the river about tea-time. He had the +good luck to be in the hall when they returned, and preceded Lady +Ellington to the drawing-room, where he threw open the door for her to +enter in the manner of a butler, and announced loudly-- + +"Lady Salmon Ellington, my lady." + +Lady Grilse also had vindicated her name again, and when after tea they +played the game at which one person goes out of the room, and on return +has to guess by mere "Yes" or "No" what has been thought of, Mr. +Osborne, on learning that they had thought of fish, instantly guessed +"Salmon," which proved to be right. Satisfactory reports also came from +the grouse shooters; the two ladies had had a charming drive; Mr. +Dennison had caught an effect of a highly pleasing kind, and though Lord +Ellington had missed his stag, it was felt that Mr. Osborne was in tune +with the general cheerfulness when he said that after all that was next +best to hitting it. Indeed Mr. Osborne was in extremely fine form +altogether, and Lady Dover, as she went upstairs with his wife at about +half-past six, as it was refreshing after the day in the air to lie down +for an hour or so before dinner, said that she knew no one so +entertaining as her husband. Then, since Mrs. Dennison was with them, +she added: + +"And Mr. Dennison has promised to show us a new conjuring trick this +evening. I can't think how he does them. So very clever. And what a +resource in the evening; I am sure I should never be dull if he would +conjure for me always after dinner." + +It was during this last week of August, which saw this party at Glen +Callan, that in point of chronology Philip broke down as recorded, and +went to the Hermit in the New Forest. Madge and Evelyn, however, less +lucky in the matter of locality, had to remain all the month in London, +without any immediate prospect of getting away. That week at Le Touquet, +with its motor-car, its suite of rooms, and Evelyn's serene and complete +disregard of all questions connected however remotely with finance, had +been somewhat alarmingly expensive, and his ill-judged selling out of +his Metiekull shares when things were absolutely at their worst had not +mended matters. He had taken Madge completely into his confidence, and +as it was evidently likely that there would soon be an embarrassing lack +of funds, she had insisted on their immediate return to London, where +they would be anyhow rent free in Evelyn's house in the King's Road, and +could, as he cheerfully suggested, live on lentils like the Hermit. But +on arrival in London the hall table was discovered to be literally +smothered in bills, chiefly "to account rendered," for Evelyn in the +_insouciance_ of the comfortable bachelor income which his pictures +brought him in, had certainly for a year past thrown into the fire +anything of a bill-nature. Nothing had ever been further from his +thoughts than not to pay, but the knowledge that he could, by a strange +but almost universal trait in human nature, had made him not bother to +do so. But, now, however, by the converse of this law, which holds +equally true, as soon as it was doubtful whether he could stand debt +free, it became quite essential to his interior peace of mind that he +should do so. This instinct appealed also to Madge, and after a dismal +morning of adding up, the whole position was revealed. Every penny could +be paid with the jetsam of Metiekull, and there was left over--his total +assets except his hand and his eye--the sum of forty-three pounds. It +was clearly necessary, therefore, to stop in London, to be extremely +economical, and to hope that the autumn would bring sitters. Lady +Taverner, at any rate, was assured, and Evelyn found himself thinking of +that pink face and butter-coloured hair with almost affection. + +The month was extremely hot, but of the stifling air, of the emptiness +of town, of the economy that Madge insisted on being observed, what a +game their love made! They were stranded on a desert island, so ran the +silly tale that was made up from day to day, in the midst of the +tropics. A huge town was (unexplainedly) there, in which they dwelt; but +though cabs jingled about it, it was forbidden, as in an allegory, to +get into a cab. A mile away there were restaurants, which both in a +dreamlike fashion seemed to know; in these, too, it was forbidden to set +foot, for a lion called Ellesdee guarded the doors. Ellesdee, who +gradually grew more elaborate, also crouched on the tops of the cabs +they would otherwise have driven in, and lay in wait at the main +terminuses which would have taken them out of town. Ellesdee could +assume various forms; sometimes he became quite little, and crouched +behind a box of hot-house peaches, which would have been pleasant for +dinner; at other times he was an apparently bland attendant at the door +of theatres. He even, this was Madge's contribution, nearly prevented +Evelyn buying a couple of very expensive brushes which he wanted, but +impassioned argument on his part convinced her that it was not Ellesdee +at all who had taken the form of the shopman, and consequently the +brushes were bought. He certainly guarded the furniture shops, where +Evelyn was inclined to linger, and though he had an eye on what came in +at the area gate, into the house itself he never penetrated. Nor was he +to be found in Battersea Park, nor on the Embankment, where they used to +walk in the cool of the evening. + +But the Ellesdee who had been responsible for the disaster in Metiekull +never showed his face. That had been a big and a dead loss, but Evelyn +had shaken it off from his mind, just as some retriever puppy shakes off +the water after a swim, dispersing it over yards of grass in a halo. And +if Madge on the day when they sat on the sands at Paris-plage had had +disquieting thoughts as to whether it was a man she had married or a +mere boy, here at any rate was some consolation if it proved to be the +latter. For Evelyn had certainly that divinest gift of youth in being +able to utterly expunge from the present and from his view of the future +all that had been unpleasant in the past. The moment a thing was done, +if the result was not satisfactory, it ceased to be; if consequences +called, as now they called, in the shape of rigid economies, he was +simply not at home to them. The results he accepted with cheerful +blandness, but he never went back to the cause. Whether it might or +might not have been avoided no longer mattered, since it had not been +avoided. The cause, however, was done with; it belonged to the mistlike +texture of the past. Meantime his exuberant spirits made the very most +of the present. + +One afternoon some business had taken him towards the city, and he +returned hot, dusty, but irresistibly buoyant shortly before dinner. +Madge was sitting in the studio, where, with its north aspect, coolness +was never wholly absent, and though her heart went out to meet even his +step on the stairs, she looked suspiciously at a small parcel under his +arm as he entered. + +"Yes, champagne," he said. "One bottle, half for you and half for me. +Oh, let me explain. I got a dividend this morning of eight shillings and +sixpence from twenty-five shares in something which I had forgotten, and +which had therefore ceased to exist. Oh, Madge, don't scream! What use +is eight shillings? But we both want champagne, so its equivalent in +champagne is of use. No, it's no use trying to make me feel sorry, +because I'm not. I just had to. Oh, you darling!" + +He sat down on the sofa by her. + +"I'm hot, I know," he said, "but you might kiss just the end of my nose. +I haven't seen you for five hours." + +She kissed him. + +"But you are simply abominable," she said. + +"Yes, that probably is so. Another thing happened to-day, too. I saw +Philip. He was driving to Waterloo. In a hansom. Luggage was behind with +his servant in a cab. He didn't see me; at least if he did, he appeared +not to." + +Evelyn paused a moment. + +"Poor devil!" he said. "I don't know how you feel, but I am awfully +sorry for him. But how could I help it? Are you a fatalist, Madge?" + +"If I am, what then?" + +"Nothing; but you've got to listen to a little sermon, whether you are +or not. It's dreadful about Philip; you see, he was my friend. But what +else was to be done? Wasn't the whole thing inevitable? How could it +have been otherwise but that you and I should be here?" + +"Otherwise?" she said, "what otherwise was there? Yet--yet, oh, Evelyn, +on what little accidents it all depended. The thunderstorm down in the +New Forest, your atrocious----" + +"What?" + +"Your atrocious behaviour. And then that it was he who asked me to give +you one more sitting, and that my mother should have opened my letter! +Is life all accidents? Are you and I the prey of any future accidents? +May we be marred and maimed by what is as fortuitous as all this?" + +Evelyn shifted slightly in his seat. This summing up of the past was a +thing he was not inclined to. It was summed up and finished with, except +in so far as the present was the finished past. Why go over the accounts +again? There was no doubt as to their correctness. + +"I don't know whether it was all accidents," he said, "but if you begin +to call things accidents, there is no stopping. If one thing is an +accident, everything is. That I stayed at his house at Pangbourne when +you were there you may call an accident. That we made friends there you +will call an accident also, if you call the first an accident. And if +you are consistent you will call the fact that we loved each other an +accident. Only, if you call that an accident, you are using the word in +a different sense to that which I use it in." + +"Then nothing is an accident?" she asked. + +"Yes, my buying this bottle of champagne was an accident, because I +didn't mean to. But as it has happened, we may as well drink it." + +But a sudden stab of disappointment somehow pierced Madge. She had been +serious, and so to a certain point had he. But now, when their talk +seemed to be becoming fruit-bearing, he could dismiss it all with a +jest. Her wifehood, for a month or two ago she would have done likewise, +had developed her in a way that marriage had not developed him. He was +still the bright-eyed boy. She, on the other hand, was no longer a girl +but a woman. All the sub-consciousness of this twanged in her answer. + +"You are so undeveloped," she said suddenly. + +But to his ears there was no reproach in this; it concerned the future, +not the past. And his bright eyes but grew brighter. + +"Surely," he said, "but the development is in your hands. And I lay +it--whatever it is--at your feet." + +That, too, Madge felt was so extraordinarily genuine; small as was the +tribute, it could not be but graceful. Everywhere he was that, in no +relation of life was he otherwise--the beautiful, undeveloped manhood +put out buds everywhere, yet at present no bud was expanded into a +flower. There was brilliant promise, no promise could be fairer or more +sincere, for he was incapable of insincerity, yet it was the +"imperishable child" with whose fate she had bound herself up. +Everything was there, except one, and that was the man. His talent was +brilliant, and she could not have parted with the constant companionship +any more than she could have parted with the light of day, yet something +was missing. + +It was not less definite, this sense or quality which was missing in +Evelyn, because it was indefinable; one could not know another person, +whether man or woman, without knowing whether it was there or not, and +indeed almost everybody was possessed of it. Philip had it to a notable +degree--indeed it was that which, if she searched her heart, had in its +extraordinary abundance in him made her originally accept the +possibility of her becoming his wife. It had nothing to do with the +ardour of love, since the man for whom she alone had experienced that +had nothing of it. Nor was it brilliant in any way, since all that was +his also. Only it was bed-rock; it was something quite secure and +responsible, and willing to take all responsibility, and human. It +co-existed with dulness, it existed in people who were frankly +intolerable. It was probably bourgeois, but she felt the possibility, as +yet far off, so far off that she would only strain her eyes if she tried +to focus them on it, of its being necessary, just as food and drink were +necessary. The little ghost at Le Touquet, in fact, had apparently +begged its way across, and had established itself in the King's Road. +But ghosts of this kind do not mind prosaic surroundings; the discerning +reader will perceive they have no need of tapestry or panels, for they +are concerned in no way with what is past and ancestral, but with what +is alive and knitted into the fabric of the present. + +But after thus dismissing the question of the accidents and essentials +of life with this ill-timed little jest about the champagne, Evelyn +quite suddenly returned to a matter as serious. + +"You called me undeveloped just now," he said, "and I expect you are +right in a way that you did not think. Tom Merivale told me once that I +had not the rudiments of a conscience, and I have often thought of that, +and believe it is quite true. That is where I am really undeveloped, and +I expect it is that"--and his face lit up even more with this piece of +intuition--"I expect it is that which you miss in me. He also said I had +no depth. You miss that too, probably." + +Evelyn announced these discoveries with a perfectly serene and unclouded +air; perturbation that he was lacking in so large a piece of moral +equipment as a conscience would do no manner of good; nor, because his +wife missed it, would it help matters that he should mourn with her over +his deficiency. But the unshadowed brightness of his face, his frank +acceptance of this so genially and generously made, was something of a +reproach to her. All the sunshine of his beautiful nature was hers, all +the brilliance of his talent, his extraordinary personal charm, his +blithe acquiescence in all that happened was hers, and yet she was +discontent. And with a pang of self-reproach she contrasted all he gave +her with what she had herself thought good enough to give to Philip when +she promised to be his wife, affection, respect, esteem, just a platter +of frigid odds and ends, compared to this great feast and glorious +banquet of love. + +But there was no doubt as to the accuracy of the diagnosis which Evelyn +had made as to what she missed in him. He had risen from the sofa, and +was standing in front of her, and at this she rose too, and laid her +hands on his shoulder. + +"Ah, I'm an ungrateful little brute," she said; "but I believe that is a +woman's way. Whatever you give a woman, she always wants more, and +you--you, dear, whatever I give you, you always say you did not know so +much was possible. So I confess, and am sorry." + +He looked at her still smiling, but without speaking, and the warmth of +her contrition cooled a little. He ought to have known, so she told +herself, that what she had said was not very easy to say; he ought to +have met the warmth of her _amende_ with welcome and acceptation, and +even acknowledgment of her generosity, for she had been generous. + +"Well," she said at length, "have you nothing to say to that?" + +He put his head a little on one side, as he did so often when he was +painting. + +"Yes, I was just arranging it in my head in beautiful language," he +said, "but the beautiful language won't come, so you will have to hear +it plain, not coloured. It's just this. I don't think one does any good +by pulling oneself open to see what's inside--oh, yes, rosebud, that's +part of the beautiful language--like a rosebud. One flowers best, I +expect, by leaving oneself alone, by just living. Surely life is good +enough! I suppose some people are naturally analytical, people who write +books, for instance, about other people's moral insides. But I'm quite +certain that I'm not like that. I paint pictures, you see, of other +people's outsides. And if I went on painting your face for years, Madge, +I should never get to the end of all it is, or all it is to me. Well, +that's Evelyn Dundas: I beg to introduce him. And you are Evelyn Dundas, +let me tell you. You are me; you can't get away from that. So don't make +either the best or the worst of me; don't let us regard our relations +like that. They are what they are, and want no interpretation or +examination. Let them just burn, and not examine their light under a +spectroscope. Dear me, there's more beautiful language. I apologise." + +She could not help laughing at this conclusion; his earnestness, for he +was absolutely earnest, was all of one piece with utter flippancy, and +from one he passed to the other without break or transition. How that +could be she did not know, only it was all he. And as far as any one +person can convince any other, she was convinced. Indeed, it was tearing +flowers open to behave and to think as she had been doing, and she +answered him in his own manner. + +"Take care of the habit of beautiful language, dear," she said. "It +grows on you without your knowing it. And surely it's dinner time." + +Evelyn cast a tragic glance round. + +"Ah, there it is," he cried. "I really had completely forgotten--you +needn't believe it unless you like--about the dividend we are going to +drink. I suppose a little ice now wouldn't be possible? I would go and +get it." + +"Yes, but I don't officially know about it," said she. + + * * * * * + +Storms in the physical and material sense are variously supposed to have +two diametrically opposite effects; they may be regarded as likely to +clear the air, or, on the other hand, to cause a general unsettlement in +the weather. And mental or spiritual storms can in the same way either +be the precursors and causes of serene blue weather, or they can produce +a disturbance of equilibria which is not easily or immediately adjusted +again; the violent agitation sets everything shaking and jarring. And +the worst of it is that there is no barometer known which will reliably +predict which of these effects is likely to be produced. To speak of a +thing, "to have it out" as the phrase goes, may get rid of it +altogether; it may be pricked like a puff-ball and vanish in a little +dust and smoke, leaving an empty bladder, and again "to have it out" may +but emphasise and make its existence more real. The "having it out," in +fact, is but a sort of preliminary examination, which proves whether +there is something there or whether there is nothing. + +This talk between Evelyn and his wife had its distinct analogy to a +storm. Things had been gathering up--indeed they were clouds--in Madge's +mind ever since Le Touquet, and though their bursting had been +unaccompanied by rain or explosions, yet to-night they had been +undeniably discharged, and it remained only to see whether the air +should prove to have been cleared, or whether the disturbance had upset +the moral atmosphere. Again, they had "had it out," she had indicated +where her trouble lay, or rather he had laid an unerring finger on it, +and as physician had said "Leave it alone; that is my suggestion. Don't +let us hear any more about it." She fully intended to follow his advice, +but half-consciously she made a reservation, for she knew that some +time--next week, next month, next year--she must know that either he had +been right, and that the trouble had vanished, or that he had been wrong +and the trouble had grown worse. And so some secret sense of uncertainty +and unsatisfiedness sat somewhere deep in the shadows of her heart. It +did not often obtrude its presence, but she knew it was there. + +On Evelyn, however, this same scene appeared to leave no trace of any +kind--and, indeed, there was no reason why it should, because it had +contained nothing that was new to him, and also because it had ended so +thoroughly satisfactorily. Madge had agreed with him about the +advisability of letting analysis alone for the future. He had, indeed, +this evening indulged in a little, and he found that there was nothing +in their mutual relations which he wanted altering, nothing which +alteration would not have spoiled. Not for a moment did he say that +there were not things in himself which he should have preferred vastly +different, but with a certain good sense he considered that in shaping +one's course in life one had to accept certain tendencies and +limitations in oneself, and, having granted them, to do one's best. And +he did not see that any perseverance or thought or pains on his part +could create in him what Merivale had called a conscience. His life was +honest, sober, and clean, not, it must be confessed, because morality +indicated that it should be, but because his artistic sense would be +hurt by its being other than that. It was sheer waste of time for him to +sit down and think about duty, because it really meant nothing to him; +he might as well have sat down and thought about Hebrew. But from the +kindliness and warmth of his nature his conclusions as regards conduct +were extraordinarily like those which the very finest sense of duty +would have dictated. Yet now and then, as when he had said that he was +sorry for Philip, but that nothing could have happened differently, +though Madge in word agreed with him, yet she, with her fine feminine +sense, knew that she agreed with him, but agreed somehow on a plane +quite different from his. That nothing could have happened differently +she knew in another way than his: deeply, fiercely, and whole-heartedly +as he loved her. For all her life up till now, her whole nature had lain +dormant; it had awoke all at once, and awoke to find that one person +only was there, even as Brunnhilde woke on the mountain top and saw +Siegfried. That awakening had been long delayed, but when it came it was +complete, like that thunder-clap when he had declared his love for her, +it deafened and paralysed all other senses; there was only one thing in +the world for her, and that was her love. + +But to him--she could not help knowing this--his love for her had not +been the blinding flash that awoke all his nature. He had loved before +that, keen sensibilities had been his, the sensibilities that inspired +his art and made it so extraordinarily vital. All his life a huge joy of +life had inspired him; he had waved in the winds of human emotions, he +brought to her a love which was new indeed, but one which was driven by +an engine that drove other machines as well, his art, his joy of life, +for instance. But all that she was, was this one thing; she had lain +like a chrysalis hitherto, and the moth beautiful that came out with +wings at first crumpled and quivering, but momentarily expanding in the +sun, had till then lived in darkness, and the light it saw when it +emerged from its cracked husk was the only light it had ever known. She +did not compare the respective dimensions, so to speak, of the love of +each of them for a moment--she believed that Evelyn loved her as +completely as she loved him. But he loved other things as well; his art +was a vital part of his life, while she had nothing but him. This was +why, though he was so much more developed than she, she had spoken a +sort of truth when she said he was undeveloped, for he did not love her +to the exclusion of all else. She was not, and could not be, the only +thing the world held for him. + +In the same way also his sorrow for Philip's suffering was different +from hers, for he, so it seemed to her, was sorry for Philip, as his +nature would make it necessary for him to be sorry for anyone who had +suffered great loss, for an artist who went blind, for a musician who +went deaf, but had yet the other joys of life, with, in course of time, +an increase in his other sensibilities as compensation to make his loss +good. But she who had emerged from nothingness into the full blaze of +this unconjectured noonday rated Philip's loss at what her own would +have been. All had been taken from him, he was left in the original +outer darkness which can only be estimated by those who have seen light, +and not by the purblind creatures that have never left it. Philip, what +must Philip's sufferings have been! Poor Philip, who was so kind, so +likeable, so everything but loved by her. And it was she who had done +this; she had brought a misery on him which she honestly gauged by the +knowledge of what her misery would be if something happened which made +Evelyn no longer love her. + +She had carried the skeleton of these thoughts with her to bed that +night, and she woke early to find that, as in the dry bones of Ezekiel's +vision, they were beginning to knit themselves together, bone coming to +his bone, and the flesh covering them. The pale dawn was beginning to +peer into the windows, and the birds to tune up in broken chirrupings +for the songs of the day. Had Philip woke like this, she wondered, +during this hot August month that he, too, had spent in London? If so, +what mitigation of his misery had he found? Not in his business, she +could not believe that; surely he must have taken to work as another +man, unhappy but less manly, takes to a drug that deadens the power of +sense. Surely that must be the explanation of his tireless industry in +the city all this month, when others now went for holiday to moor and +mountain. Oh, poor Philip! She had brought all this on him, too; she +could have made him happy, she felt sure of that, had not soft, +irresistible love made that gracious task impossible for her. + +The room in spite of its open window was very hot, and she turned back +the blanket quietly so as not to disturb Evelyn. He lay with his face +turned towards her, in deep sleep, not dreamless, perhaps, because he +smiled. Even in this wan morning light, when all vitality burns low, his +face was radiant; no scruple, no pale doubt troubled his rest. He would +wake to another day with the same welcome of "Good morning" for it as +that with which he had said "Good night" to the last. His lips were +closed, he breathed evenly and slowly through his nostrils, no sleep +could have been more tranquil. It was just the sleep of a child tired +with play, who would be recuperated on the morrow for another day of +play. + +Then she rose very quietly, and, opening the door with precaution, went +into the bath-room. She was afraid that the splash of the water might +rouse him, and put her sponge underneath the tap so that the sound was +muffled, for she had the same womanly tenderness with regard to breaking +his sleep as she had towards Philip. All suffering was sacred; even a +broken hour of rest was a thing to be avoided. Then with infinite care +she tip-toed back into their bedroom and dressed, but before she left it +she looked at him once more. No, she had not aroused him, and no play of +sub-conscious cerebration told him that she had gone; he slept on with +the same tranquil sleep. + + + + +EIGHTEENTH + + +Lady Dover's letter to Madge was most elastic as regarded the date of +their visit and thoroughly cordial, for she never did things by halves, +and the welcome that would be given to her and Evelyn if he could +possibly spare time to visit so remote a place was sincerity itself. +About accepting it, she had her own view quite clearly formed, but her +own pride, her pride, too, in her husband, prevented her from giving the +slightest inkling of it to him. For she saw clearly that this visit was +proposed by Lady Dover with the definite purpose of showing an act of +friendliness after her marriage; it was clearly made with intention, and +in her heart of hearts Madge was intensely grateful. To hint this, +however, to Evelyn was impossible. But his frank eagerness to go made it +unnecessary for her to consider any more the diplomatic reason for doing +so. + +"Oh, let's go," he said. "Surely Scotland is better than London. What is +there here? Just a stuffy town, and Battersea Park, and nothing whatever +to do." + +Madge knew that her own feeling of being hurt at this was unreasonable. +This solitude of London had been unutterably dear to her, but she knew +her own feeling to be unreasonable, since she never doubted--and +rightly--how dear it had been to him. And why should he not want to be +externally amused--to shoot, to fish, to do all those things that he +delighted in? And echo answered "Why?" + +It was at breakfast time that this letter arrived, and the bacon was +undeniably less good than it would have been two days previously. Evelyn +sniffed at it, and decided against it. But his sensitiveness to slightly +_passée_ bacon was sensitive to her feelings also. + +"One doesn't want meat food in the summer," he said. "Tea and +marmalade--how delicious!" + +Madge handed him his tea. + +"You dear," she said. "It is high, and it's my fault; I thought it would +be good just for to-day. But it isn't. Oh, Evelyn, it was nice of you to +pretend you didn't want any. But you can't act before me. I always know +you. So give it up." + +Evelyn gave a great shout of laughter. + +"Madge and marmalade," he said. "That's good enough for me. In fact, I +would leave out the marmalade if required. Oh, Madge, why can't you be +serious and talk about this. By the way, I'll paint another sketch of +you called 'Bad bacon'; the yearning face of the young wife. You are +young, you know, and you are my wife. Don't chatter so, it confuses me. +Now Lady Dover, if you will be silent one moment, lives at Golspie." + +"That's where you are wrong," said Madge. "You have to go to Golspie +before you begin." + +"I don't want to begin. I want to get there. Don't you?" + +Madge put on the woeful face that always introduced Ellesdee. + +"I don't like the ticket man at King's Cross," she said. "I don't think +he is what he seems." + +Evelyn had eaten by this time all the crust off a Hovis loaf. + +"More crust," he said. "There isn't any. Very good; marmalade in a +spoon. But I won't distend my--my _vie intérieure_ with crumb. About the +ticket man. You are wrong if we are generous to Lady Dover with regard +to the length of our visit. Why mince matters? Can we afford it? I say +'Yes.' Board wages for our enormous establishment here. Tickets for +ourselves, third class--I wish there was a fourth or fifth--and what's +the dem'd total, as Mr. Mantalini said. Besides these"--Evelyn waved his +hand like a man commanding millions--"these are temporary economies. The +pink and butter-coloured is going to visit these classic abodes in +October, and if orders don't pour in like our own leaky roof, I'll eat +all the gamboge in my paintbox. I can't say fairer. And as I don't +possess gamboge," he added, "the bet finds no takers. I give you that +information, for though I am poor, I am honest." + +Evelyn proceeded to eat marmalade with a spoon. + +"It will be very _chic_, if you come to think of it," he said. +"Probably several ladies' maids and valets will arrive with their +respective owners by the same train. You, Madge, will flirt with one or +two of the valets, and I with several of the ladies' maids. The scene +then is shifted to Golspie station. You squeeze the hands of the valets +on the platform, and I gaze into the eyes of the ladies' maids. The +sumptuous motor has come for Lady Dover's guests. We strive to +subdue--quite ineffectually--our air of conscious superiority, and +squeeze the hands of Dukes and Duchesses. Then they will know us in our +true colours. Triumphal explosion of the motor-car. The valets and +ladies' maids are saved. Hurrah for the lower classes! Another cup of +tea, please. Right up to the top. And the point is the fare to Golspie. +Arrived there, we shall have no more food and drink to buy." + +The reasoning was inevitable; given that domestic economy could manage +it, there was no reason that could reasonably indicate King's Road +instead. Yet, even after the A.B.C. had added its voice to the +overmastering argument, Madge hesitated. She could not quite see her +husband among the surroundings that awaited her there. She had been +there before, and knew. How would he and that particular _milieu_ suit +each other? All this was secondary to her original desire to go; her +private, incommunicable feeling that such a visit would _poser_ +them--for she could not have been Lady Ellington's daughter so long +without that point of view having soaked into her--was paramount, but +the other was there, and the complication in her mind was that though +she wished, taking the reasons all round, to leave this hot house which +still was intertwined with exquisite and undying memories, she could not +see how Evelyn should wish to leave this, not having her own worldly +reasons for going to Golspie, without a pang. But since the question of +whether economy would allow had been decided in favour of going, there +was certainly no more to be said, and, so she told herself, no more to +be thought. + +But, since the logical conclusion is the one conclusion in the world +that is absolutely without effect as regards results, she continued to +think. For the ordinary mind is not in the least reasonable; it would +cease to be reasonable the moment it was, and take its place among fixed +stars and other unattainable objects. Logic, reason, are perhaps the +most ineffective of human motives; they may be appealed to as a last +resort; but if there is any impulse still alive, it, and not logic, will +be seized on as a ground for action. Hence the divine uncertainty of +human affairs. If the world was ruled by reason it would become duller +than a week-old newspaper. But it is the fact that every human soul is +so impredicable that lends the zest to existence. Finding out, in fact, +not knowledge, is the spring that makes life fascinating. Whenever the +element of certainty enters, it is the death's head at the feast. Nobody +cares for the feast any more. The champagne is flat. + +So to Golspie they went, and Evelyn's prophecy as regards the journey +was sufficiently fulfilled to make anybody believe that there must have +been something in it. He, at any rate, before they arrived at even +Inverness, was engaged in conversation with an agreeable female +opposite, a conversation which was not, however, so engrossing but that +he could observe with secret glee the fact that Madge was reading the +_Scotsman_, provided for her by an equally agreeable young man, who sat +opposite, and hoped that his cigarette would not be disagreeable. Then, +luck was really on his side that day, important people stepped out of +first-class carriages at Golspie, and, by the usages of this cruel +world, these acquaintances so pleasantly begun were rudely interrupted. +A cart waited for their travelling companions, and the swift motor +received them and the strangers, before whom their own travelling +acquaintances were but dust and ashes. + +It was, in fact, but a short week after Lady Ellington's arrival at Glen +Callan that her daughter and son-in-law got there, and though she would, +as previously arranged, have gone on to her next house the day before +their arrival, she put off her departure for two days in order to have +the pleasure of seeing them. The party, in fact, was unaltered, and so +was their way of life; Mr. Osborne's flow of humour showed no signs of +running dry, nor was the blank amazement with which Lord Ellington +regarded him in the least abated. Mr. Dennison was getting steadily on +towards the completion of his panorama of Sutherland, and Lady Dover +found fresh lights and shadows on the purple heather every day. + +Lady Ellington had carefully considered what her exact attitude towards +Madge and her husband should be, and had come to the most sensible +conclusion about it. Since the world had made up its mind to welcome +them, and to draw a wet sponge over the past, it was clear that unless +she wished to make an exception of herself, and not do in Rome what Rome +did, she must extend to them not merely the welcome of the world, but +the welcome of a mother also. And it was decidedly the best plan to make +this thorough; astonished as Madge might be, it was better to astonish +her than the world, and neither in public nor in private should she hear +one word of reproach nor an uncordial accent. Lady Ellington had no +desire to see private talks with her daughter; in fact, she meant rather +to avoid them; but her whole policy was to accept what had happened, and +welcome Madge in the flesh with the same unreservedness as she had shown +in the letter she had written her a week ago, urging her to accept Lady +Dover's invitation. She was determined, in fact (now that Lady Dover had +shown the way), to make the best of it, and, instead of bitterly +counting up (and mentally sending the bill in to Madge) all that would +have been at her command, had not the speculation with regard to Madge's +marriage failed, to make the most of the assets that remained to her. +And the more she thought of them, unattractive as they had seemed at +first, the more they seemed to her to have a promising air. Philip was +immensely wealthy, and Evelyn was poor, that was unfortunately +undeniable; but Evelyn--regarding him as a property--had certainly +prospects which Philip had not, and though nothing could quite make up, +to her mind, for the loss of much tangible wealth, yet Evelyn with his +brilliant gifts might easily be a rich man, while even now he was a much +more rising figure socially than the other. People talked about him, +admired his cleverness and charm, asked to be introduced to him. All +these merits, it is true, she had not seen in those days at Pangbourne, +when she looked upon him merely as an impossible young artist, but since +that impossible young artist had become an inevitable son-in-law, it was +wise to take him into account. So her welcome to both was going to be +unreserved. + +They arrived, just as Lady Ellington had arrived, after the rest of the +party had gone in to dinner, and their host and hostess came out into +the hall as usual to meet them. Madge, it must be confessed, had gone +through a bad quarter of an hour of anticipatory shyness as they got +near; but this on arrival she found to have been a superfluous piece of +self-inflicted discomfort, for Lady Dover was absolutely natural, and +all that was required of her was that she should be natural too. + +"Ah, dear Madge," she said, "how nice to see you and Mr. Dundas. And we +have such a surprise for you; your mother is here still. We persuaded +her to delay her departure a couple of days in order just to have a +glimpse of you. We call her Lady Salmon, and are eating a fish she +caught only this afternoon." + +She turned to welcome her other guests, when Lady Ellington also +followed her from the dining-room. + +"My dearest Madge," she cried, kissing her, "this is too delightful. How +well you are looking. But did you only wear this thin cloak for your +drive; surely that was rash? How are you, dear Evelyn? This is nice. I +could not help coming out of dinner to have a glimpse of you. You have +brought no maid, Madge?" + +"Dear mother, I haven't got one to bring." + +"No? Evelyn, she must have a maid. But Parkins, of course, shall attend +to you here. Now you must go and dress." + +That her mother was still in the house had been absolutely a surprise to +Madge, but her welcome fully endorsed the cordiality of her letter. She +had not seen her since that afternoon in July when she had come to +Evelyn's studio, and whatever had caused this complete and radical +change she was grateful to it. It, too, bore its meaning as clearly +stamped as did Lady Dover's greeting; whatever had happened, had +happened but the past was over. + +Everyone in the house, indeed taking the time from their hostess, +welcomed them with a very special cordiality. Lady Dover, in her quiet, +neat way, had dropped, casually enough, but letting the point of her +observations be fully seen, little remarks to most members of her party +on the very great pleasure she anticipated from the visit of the +Dundases. They were both so charming, it was no wonder that everyone +liked them. The meaning of this was explicit enough, and put without any +hint of patronising, or, indeed, of doing a kindness; and though Lady +Ellington had reflected that people followed Lady Dover's lead just +because she was ordinary and they were ordinary, it might be questioned +whether she herself could have given the lead so gently, for it hardly +appeared a lead at all, or so successfully, for everybody followed it. +From the fragments of Lady Dover's ordinary conversation already +indicated, it may not unfairly be gathered that she perhaps lacked +brilliance in her talk, and was not possessed of any particular +intellectual distinction. But after all, the hardest art to practise is +the art of living according to one's tastes, a thing which she certainly +succeeded admirably in doing, and the hardest medium to work in, more +difficult by far than metal or marble or oils, is men and women. But her +manipulation of them was masterly, and, to crown it, she did not seem to +manipulate at all. + +In this instance, certainly, the subtlest diplomatist could not with all +his scheming have produced a more complete result. Mr. Dennison, as has +been seen, had on the tip of his tongue a conclusion disparaging in the +highest degree to Evelyn and his art. Gladys Ellington had let things +even more bitter pass the tip of her tongue, Madge's mother had felt not +so long ago that the shipwreck was total, and that there was no salvage. +Yet Lady Dover, with just a little repetition of the same sentence or +two, had swept all these things away, as a broom with a couple of +strokes demolishes all the weavings of spiders, and through the +unobscured windows the sun again shines. In fact the _volte-face_ of +Society had been begun at any rate with immense precision and certainty; +on the word of Lady Dover, who was in command, this particular company +had turned right about with the instantaneousness which is the instinct +of a well-drilled troop. + +In effect the whole social balance of power was changed from the moment +of their appearance. Evelyn, as natural in his way, but that a more +vivacious one, than Lady Dover, gave a brilliant sketch of their +arrival--third class--at Golspie Station, and the adjustment of social +distinction consequent. Also, he had prophesied it, Madge would bear him +out in that, and he reproduced admirably Madge's face from behind the +_Scotsman_ which had been so kindly lent her. Mr. Osborne made one +attempt to reconstitute himself the life and soul of the party when he +addressed Gladys as Lady Grilse, and unfolded to Madge, who sat next +him, the history of that remarkable piece of wit, meaning to follow it +up by the sequel (sequels were usually disappointing, but this was an +agreeable exception) of the true circumstances under which her mother +had been called Lady Salmon. But Madge had cut the sequel short, without +any ironical purpose, but simply because she wanted to listen to and +contradict the libels Evelyn was telling of her conduct on the opposite +side of the table. + +"How very amusing," she said. "You called her Lady Grilse (I see, do I +not), because she had caught one. Evelyn, I said nothing of the kind; I +only said that I rather liked the smell of a cigarette." + +But her quite literal and correct explanation of Mr. Osborne's joke was +fatal to the joke; it was a pricked bladder, it would never be repeated +any more. + +Then came the deposition of the Royal Academician. Mr. Dennison had +finished his picture of the upper glen only that afternoon, and the +occasion was therefore solemn. So was he. + +"Yes, Lady Dover," he was saying, "I only touched the canvas a dozen +times to-day, yet I have done, as I said, a full day's work. _C'est le +dernier pas qui coûte_; it is on those last touches that the whole thing +depends. I knew when I went out this morning that I had not got what I +meant; I knew, too, that it was nearly there, and it is that "nearly" +that is yet so far. There was the shadow of a cloud, if you remember, +over the bank of gorse." + +"Oh, I thought that shadow was quite perfect," said Lady Dover. "I hope +you have not touched it." + +"It has gone," said Mr. Dennison, as if announcing the death of a near +relation who had left him money, for though his voice was mournful, +there was a hint of something comfortable coming. "Gone. I saw I could +not do it so as to make it true." + +He looked up at this tragic announcement and caught Evelyn's eye. + +"Mr. Dundas, I am sure, will bear me out," he said. "We poor artists are +bound, however it limits us, to put down only what we know is true. We +are not poets but chroniclers." + +"Oh, Evelyn, and you've been telling such lies about me," said Madge, +from the other side. + +"Chroniclers," resumed Mr. Dennison. "When we feel sure we are right we +record our impression. But unless that certainty of vision comes to us, +we must be honest, we must not attempt a vague impression merely. Is it +not so?" + +Evelyn's face looked extraordinarily vital and boyish as he leaned +forward. + +"Oh, I don't agree in the least," he said. "I think we always ought to +try to record just those suggestions--those vaguenesses--which you say +you leave out. Look at 'La Gioconda.' What did Andrea mean us to think +about that sphinx? I don't know, nor do you. And, what is more certain +than even that, nor did he know. Did he mean what Walter Pater said he +meant? It again is quite certain he did not. No, I think every picture +ought to ask an unanswerable riddle, any picture, that is to say, which +is a picture at all, a riddle like 'Which came first, the hen or the +egg?' Surely anything obvious is not worth painting at all." + +Mr. Dennison had clearly not thought of things in this light. It was not +thus that the ordnance map of Sutherland would be made. + +"An amusing paradox," he said. "Nobody is to know anything about a +picture, especially the man who painted it. Is that correct?" + +His tone had something slightly nettled about it, and Evelyn's +imperturbable good humour and gaiety might perhaps represent the +indifference of the nettles towards the hand they had stung. + +"Yes, just that," he said. "Take any of the arts. Surely it is because a +play has a hundred interpretations that it is worth seeing, and because +a hundred different people will experience a hundred different emotions +that an opera is worth listening to. And the very fact that when we hear +'The jolly roast beef of old England' we are all irresistibly reminded +of the jolly roast beef of old England shows that it is a bad tune." + +Mr. Dennison waved his hand in a sketchy manner. + +"I have not the pleasure of knowing that tune," he said; "but when I +paint the upper glen here, I mean it to produce in all beholders that +perception of its particular and individual beauty which was mine when I +painted it. And when you exercise your art, your exquisite art, over a +portrait, you, I imagine, mean to make the result produce in all +beholders the beauty you saw yourself." + +Evelyn laughed. + +"Oh, dear, no," he said. "You see, I so often see no beauty in my +sitters, because most people are so very plain. But I believe that the +finest portraits of all are those which, when you look at them, make you +feel as you would feel if you were on intimate terms and in the presence +of the people they represent. Besides, people are so often quite unlike +their faces; in that case you have to paint not what their faces are +like but what they are like." + +Mr. Dennison's tone was rising a little; that impressive baritone could +never be shrill, but it was as if he wanted to be a tenor. + +"Ah, that explains a great deal," he said; "it explains why sometimes I +find your portraits wholly unlike the people they represent. And the +conclusion is that if I knew them better, I should find them more like." + +"That is exactly what I mean," said Evelyn. + +But here Lady Dover broke in. + +"You must have some great talks, Mr. Dundas," she said, "with Mr. +Dennison; it is so interesting to hear different points of view. One +cannot really grasp a question, can one, unless one hears both sides of +it. I think Lady Ellington has finished. Let us go." + +But the verdict over this little passage of arms was unanimous; Mr. +Dennison was no longer in anyone's mind the pope and fountain-head of +all art and all criticism thereon. His impressiveness had in the last +ten minutes fallen into the disrepute of pomposity, his grave +pronouncements were all discredited; a far more attractive gospel had +been enunciated, far more attractive, too, was this new evangelist. And +as Lady Dover passed him on the way out she had one more word. + +"That is a delightful doctrine, Mr. Dundas," she said. "You must really +do a portrait of yourself, and if we think it is unlike, the remedy will +be that we must see more of you." + +Evelyn drew his chair next to the Academician; he had heard the rise of +voice and seen the symptoms of perturbation, to produce which there was +nothing further from his intention. + +"I'm afraid I talk awful rot," he said, with the most disarming +frankness. + +Now Mr. Dennison was conscious of having been rather rude and ruffled, +he was also conscious that Evelyn's temper had been calmer than the +moon. He felt, too, the charm of this confession, which was so evidently +not premeditated but natural. + +"But that does not diminish my pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Dundas," he +said. + +Afterwards the same triumphant march continued. Mr. Dennison even showed +to Madge how a couple of his most astounding conjuring tricks were done, +and Lady Ellington talked to her son-in-law in a corner about Madge, +until the council of war summoned them to debate. Then, when it was +decided that Madge should join the fishmongers on the river, Mr. Osborne +instantly suggested that she would be Mrs. Sea-Trout, and though a +cavilling mind might find in this but a futile attempt to establish +himself once more as the life and soul of the party, it was not indeed +so, but meant merely as a compliment, a tribute to Madge. Then, when the +council of war was over, more remarkable things happened, for the whole +party played Dumb-Crambo till long after half-past ten, quite forgetful, +apparently, how important it was to get a good rest after all the day +spent in the open air. How such a subversion of general usage occurred +no one knew, but certainly there was something in Evelyn which conduced +to silly gaiety. And nobody was a whit the worse for it, while the +effects of the moon-light on the hills opposite, which had nightly been +the admiration of the whole party, went totally unheeded, and all the +exquisite lights and shadows, the subtlety of which it had become the +office of Mr. Dennison to point out and Lady Dover to appreciate, might +never have been in view at all. + +Lady Ellington went with Madge to her room when the women retired; she +had not really meant to do so, but Lady Dover's "Good night" had made +this necessary. + +"Dear Madge," she had said, "I know your mother will want to talk to +you, so I shall not come to see you to your room. I hope you have +everything you want. Breakfast at a quarter to ten, or would you rather +have it in your room after your journey? We have been so late to-night +too. How excellent Mr. Dundas's last charade was. Only Mr. Dennison +guessed. Good night, dear." + +Lady Ellington was thus, so to speak, forced into Madge's room; she +carried with her her glass of hot water, she carried also, which was +even more warming, the memory of the undisguised welcome that not only +Madge but the impossible artist had received. She almost, in fact, +reconsidered her valuation of wealth; had Philip Home appeared in +Evelyn's place this evening, she knew quite well he would not have been +able to stir the deadly gentility of this house half so well as the +impossible artist. He could not have piped so as to make them dance, yet +this, this key to the sort of set which she knew really mattered most, +the solid, stolid, respectable upper class, had been just rats to his +piping. His natural enjoyment, his animal spirits, to put that influence +at its lowest, had simply played the deuce with the traditions of the +house, where she herself never ventured to lift her voice in opposition +or amendment to what was suggested. But Evelyn's "Oh, let's have one +more Dumb-Crambo" had revised the laws of the Medes and Persians, and +another they had. Even at the formal council of war he had refused to +say what he would like to do to-morrow, a thing absolutely +unprecedented. + +"Oh, may I go and shoot if it is fine," he had said, "and do nothing at +all if it is wet? Don't you hate shooting, Lord Dover, if your barrels +are covered with rain? And birds look so awfully far away in the rain. +But I should love to shoot in any case," he added. "My goodness, Madge, +think of the King's Road and the 'buses." + +Yet all this revolt against the established laws, so Lady Ellington +felt, had somehow not transgressed those laws of propriety which she was +so careful about here. Evelyn, from ignorance, no doubt, rode +rough-shod, and no one resented his trespasses. Even Lord Dover had been +stirred into speech, a thing he did not usually indulge in except on the +subject of the grouse that had been shot and the fish that had been +killed that day. + +"My dear boy," he said, "you shall do exactly what you like to-morrow. +There is a rod for you on the river, or we should like another gun on +the moor. Tell us at breakfast." + + * * * * * + +All this Lady Ellington took up to Madge's room with her hot water; that +Lady Dover would be as good as her word, and that, having asked these +two to Glen Callan, would give them a genuine welcome, she had never +doubted, but what was surprising she was the extreme personal success +of her once better-forgotten son-in-law. This stronghold and central +fortress of what was correct and proper had received him as if he was +almost a new incarnation of what was correct and proper, or if that was +putting it too strongly, at any rate as if no question of his +correctness and propriety had ever arisen. Surprising though it was, it +was wholly satisfactory. + +"We are so late, dear Madge," she said, "that I can only stop a minute. +Has it not been a delightful evening?" + +The desire to say something salutary struggled long in her mind. She +wanted so much to indicate that it was for the sake of her feelings, +even in consequence of her own intervention, that so charming a welcome +had been extended to Madge and her husband. And to be quite truthful, it +was not the instinct for truth that prevented her, but the quite certain +knowledge that Madge would not stand anything that suggested a hint of +patronisation. Besides the house was Lady Dover's, that person who, as +Lady Ellington was beginning to learn, was natural because she happened +to be natural, and was quite truthful, not because this was a subtler +sort of diplomacy. That naked dagger of truth was an implement that +required a deal of mail-coat to ward off. Any moment Lady Dover might +wreck any scheming policy with one candid word, and the corresponding +surprise and candour of her eyes. But the welcome had been so warm that +Madge could not but be warmed by it, even to the point of confession. + +"Oh, mother," she said, "I have been disquieting myself in vain. All +this last month I have been wondering secretly whether people were going +to be horrid to us. How senseless it all was! I have been thinking all +sorts of things." + +She put down her candle and drew a couple of chairs to the fire. + +"I have had all sorts of thoughts," she said. "You see, you did not +write to me. I thought you might--well, might have washed your hands of +me. I thought that people like Lady Dover would think I had been +heartless and Evelyn worse than heartless. I was hopelessly wrong; +everybody is as nice as possible. But, heavens, how I have eaten my +heart out over that all this month in London!" + +She poked the fire with a certain viciousness, feeling that she pricked +these bubbles of senseless fear as she pricked the bubbling gas of the +burning coal. + +"All in vain," she said; "I have been making myself--no, not miserable, +because I can't be otherwise than happy, but disquieted with all sorts +of foundationless fears. I thought people would disregard--yes, it is +that--would disregard Evelyn and me; would talk of the fine day instead. +And then, you see, Evelyn would also have nothing to do, nobody would +want to be painted by him. We should be miserably poor; he would have to +paint all sorts of things he had no taste for just to get a guinea or +two and keep the pot boiling. Ah, I shouldn't have minded that--the +poverty, I mean--but what I should mind would be that he should have to +work at what he felt was not worth working at. Don't you see?" + +Never perhaps before had Madge so given herself away to her mother. Lady +Ellington's system had been to snip off all awkward shoots, and train +the plant, so to speak, in such a way as should make it most suitable as +a table ornament. The table for which it was destined, it need hardly be +remarked, was an opulent table. There was to be no wasting of sweetness +on the desert air; Mayfair was to inhale its full odour. And as things +now stood, the destination of this flower was as likely to be Mayfair as +ever. Lady Ellington respected success, nobody more so, nor was there +anything she respected so much, and on a rapid review of the evening, +the success she felt inclined to respect most was that of her impossible +son-in-law. If a plebiscite for popularity had knocked at the doors of +the occupied bedrooms, she had no doubt as to the result of the +election. There was nothing left for her but to retract, wholly and +entirely, all her own resentment and rage at the marriage. And since +this had to be done, it was better done at once. + +"Dearest Madge," she said, "how foolish of you to make yourself +miserable! Of course at first I was vexed and troubled at it all, and I +was, and am still, very sorry for Philip. But though I did wish that +certain things had not happened, and that others had--I mean I wish that +you had been in love with Philip, for I am sure you would have been very +happy, yet since it was not to be so, and since you fell in love with +Evelyn, what other issue could I have desired?" + +Suddenly, quick as a lizard popping out and in again of some hole in +the wall, there flashed through Madge's mind the impression--"I don't +believe that." She could not be held responsible for it, for it was not +a thought she consciously entertained. It just put its head out and said +"Here I am." What, however, mattered more was that this was her mother's +avowed declaration now; these were the colours anyhow she intended to +sail under. She had been launched anew, so to speak, with regard to her +attitude towards her daughter, and Lady Dover had christened her, and +broken a bottle of wine over her for good luck. + +But having made her declaration, Lady Ellington thought she had better +be moving. From a child Madge had been blessed with a memory of hideous +exactitude, which enabled her, if she choose, to recall conversations +with the most convincing verbal accuracy, and Lady Ellington did not +feel equal, off-hand, to explaining some of those flower-like phrases +which had, she felt certain, fallen from her in her interview with Madge +after the thunderstorm in the New Forest, if perchance the fragrance of +them might conceivably still linger in her daughter's mind. Nor did she +wish to be reminded, however remotely (and as she thought of this she +made the greater speed) of the letter from Madge to Evelyn which had +lain in the hall one afternoon as she came in, with regard to which her +maternal instinct had prompted her to take so strong a line. So she +again referred to the lateness of the hour, "all owing to those amusing +games," and took the rest of her hot water to finish in her own room. + +But she need not have been afraid; nothing was further from Madge's +intention than to speak of such things, and though she could not help +knowing that she did not believe what her mother had said, she +deliberately turned her mind away, and so far from exercising her memory +over the grounds of her disbelief, she put it all away from her +thoughts. Such generosity was easy, her present great happiness made it +that. + +She felt in no mood to go to bed, even after the night she had spent in +the train, and from the thought of the vain disquietude she had felt +about how people would behave to them, she passed in thought to another +disquietude that she told herself was as likely to be as vain as that. +For what was the sense of measuring and gauging and taking soundings +into the manner of Evelyn's love for her, and comparing it unfavourably, +to tell the truth, with hers for him? For she knew quite well, the whole +fibre of her being knew, that in so far as he was complete at all, his +love for her was complete; there were no reservations in it; he loved +her with all his soul and strength. Yet when the best thing in the world +was given her, here she was turning it over, and wondering, so to speak, +if the ticket to show its price was still on it, and if it was +decipherable! It is ill to look thus at any gift, but when that gift is +the gift of love, which is without money and without price, such a deed +is little short, so she told herself now, of a desecration. + + * * * * * + +The next day bore out the reliability of Lord Dover's aneroid, and there +was no fear of Evelyn finding rain-drops on his gun-barrel. The +Honourable Company of Fishmongers--Mr. Osborne was at it again--went to +the river, Mr. Dennison to a further point of view up the glen, and the +shooters to the moor. They started a little before the party for the +river, and Madge saw them off at the door. They were to shoot over a +beat of moor not far from the house, which would bring them close to the +river by lunch-time, and it was arranged that both parties should lunch +together. Gladys started with them, for she was going to fish up the +river from the lower reaches; Lady Ellington and Madge would begin on +opposite sides at the top. This would bring them all together about two +o'clock at what was called the Bridge-pool, where Madge, fishing on this +side, would cross, meeting Lady Ellington and Gladys, who would have +worked up from below, while the shooters converged on them from the +moor. + +It would indeed have been a sad heart that did not rejoice on such a +morning, while to the happy the cup must overflow. There had been a +slight touch of early frost in the night, which, as Madge skirted the +river bank, which was still in shadow, lay now in thick, diamond drops +on the grass, ready when the sun touched it to hover for a moment in +wisps of thin mist, and then to be drawn up into the sparkle of the day. +Swift and strong and coffee-coloured at her feet the splendid river +roared on its way, full of breakers and billows at the head of the +pools, and calming down into broad, smooth surfaces before it quickened +again into the woven ropes of water down which the river climbed to the +next pool. Every pool, too, was a mystery, for who knew what +silver-mailed monster might not be oaring his way about with flicks of +the spade-like tail that clove the waters and sent him arrow-like up the +stream? The mystery of it all, the romance of the gaudy fly thrown into +this seething tumult of foam and breaker, its circling journey (followed +by eager eye and beating heart) that might at any moment be interrupted +by a swirl of waters unaccounted for by the stream, and perhaps the +sight of a fin or a silver side; then a sudden check, the feeling of +weight, the nodding of the tapering rod in assent, and the shrill scream +of the reel--all this, all the possibility of every moment, the +excitement and tension, all added effervescence to the vivid happiness +that filled Madge and inspired all she did with a sort of rapture. + + * * * * * + +So step by step she made her way down the first pool; the broken water +at the head gave no reply to the casting of the fly upon the waters, and +with a little more line, and still a little more line as the pool grew +broader, she went down to the tail. There, far out in mid-stream, was a +big submerged rock, with a triangle of quiet water below it, and more +line and more line went out before she could reach it. Then--oh, moment +of joy!--the fly popped down on the far side of the rock, and with +entrancing little jerks and oscillations of the rod, she drew it across +the backwater. And then--she felt as if it must be so--the dark stream +was severed, a fin cut the surface, the rod nodded, bent to a curve, +with an accelerating whizz-z-z out ran the line, and a happy fishmonger +looked anxiously, rapturously at her gillie. + +A couple of hours later Madge had come to within a hundred yards of the +Bridge-pool, her fish secure in the creel, and her aspirations for it +reaching, somewhat sanguinely as she knew, as high as sixteen pounds. +The Bridge-pool itself was this morning part of Lady Ellington's water, +for on Madge's side it ran swirling and boiling round a great cliff of +nearly precipitous rock, some fifty feet high, over which she had to +pass before getting to the skeleton wire bridge which crossed the river +just below the pool. She could see her mother half-way down the pool +already, and called to her, but her voice was drowned by the hoarse bass +of the stream as it plunged from rapid to rapid into the head of the +pool below, and after trying in vain to make her hear, and communicate +the glorious tidings of the fish, Madge followed her gillie up the +steep, rocky pass which led over this cliff. As she mounted the stony +stair, steep and lichen-ridden, the voice of the water that had been in +her ears all morning, and rang there still like the tones of some +secret, familiar friend, grew momently more faint, but another voice, +the voice of the sunny noon, as friendly as the other, took its place, +and grew more intense as the first faded. From the shadow and coolness +and water-voices she emerged into the windy sunlight of the moor; bees +buzzed hotly in the heather, making the thin, springlike stems of the +ling quiver and nod beneath their honey-laden alightings, swallows and +martins chided shrilly as they passed, and peewits cried that note which +is sad or triumphant according to the mood of the hearer. Then as she +gained the top of this rocky bastion, sounds more indicative of human +presences were in the air, the report of a gun came from not far off, +and immediately afterwards a string of shots. Though she had killed her +salmon with such gusto only an hour or two before, Madge could not help +a secret little joy at the thought that probably this particular grouse +had run the gauntlet of all the guns and had escaped again for another +spell of wild life on the heather. Then, following the gillie's finger, +she saw not half a mile away the shooting party, who were also +approaching the general _rendez-vous_ with the same coincident +punctuality as she, while a quarter of a mile further down from this +point of vantage she could see Gladys coming up. The shooters were +walking in line across a very steep piece of brae that declined towards +the river, three of them, but with the gillies and dog-men seeming quite +a party. The hillside was covered with heather, and sown with great grey +boulders. + +Madge was a few minutes before the others; Gladys had still several +hundred yards to go before she reached the bridge which was now but +thirty yards off, while Lady Ellington had still the cream of the +Bridge-pool in front of her, and she sat down on a big rock at the top +of the cliff while the rest of the party converged. At this distance it +was impossible to make out the identity of the shooters; they were but +little grey blots on the hillside, but every now and then the muffled +report of a shot or of two or three shots reached her, and though she +had felt glad that one grouse had perhaps escaped the death-tubes, yet +she felt glad another way that they seemed to be having good sport. Then +her mind and her eye wandered; she looked up the glen down which she had +come; she saw the river sparkling a mile away in torrent of +sun-enlightened foam; above her climbed the heathery hill, crowned with +the larches of the plantation round the house itself, and from the house +the gleam of a vane caught her eye. Beside her sat the brown-bearded +gillie, in restful Scotch silence, ready and courteous to reply should +she speak to him, but silent till that happened. And "pop-pop" went the +guns from the hillside opposite. + +Suddenly he got up, looking across no longer vaguely, but with focussed +eyes, and she turned. The little grey specks of men were closer, and it +was possible now to see that there was some commotion among them. From +the right a little grey speck was running down hill; from the left +another was running up. And that was all. + +Madge watched for a moment or two, still full of sunny thoughts. Then +from the point of convergence of the little grey specks one started +running towards the bridge by which she would cross. At that, faint as +reflected starlight, an impulse of alarm came to her. But it was so +slight that no trace of it appeared in her voice. + +"What is happening, do you think?" she asked the gillie. + +But the courteous Scotsman did not reply; he gazed a moment longer, and +then ran down the steep descent to the bridge. And in Madge the faint +feeling of alarm grew stronger, though no less indefinable, as she +looked at the leaping little grey speck growing every moment larger. At +last she saw who it was; it was Mr. Osborne jumping and running for all +he was worth. At that she followed her gillie, and hurried after him +across the wire bridge. And as if a drum had beat to arms, legions of +fears no longer indefinable leaped into her brain in hideous tumult. + +A hundred yards ahead her gillie had met the running figure, and in a +moment he had slung off the creel and started to run towards her, +leaving Mr. Osborne to drop down, as if exhausted, in the heather. + +"What is it?" she cried as he approached. + +"An accident, ma'am," he said. "I don't know what." + +Madge did not delay him, but went on towards Mr. Osborne. As she got +near he sprang up from his seat. + +"Ah, my dear Mrs. Dundas," he said; "don't go--don't go!" + +His panting breath made him pause a moment, but he looked at her face of +agony and apprehension, and, clenching his hands, went on. + +"No, not killed; there is nobody dead. But there has been an accident, a +ricochet off one of those rocks. Someone has been--yes, my poor, dear +lady, it is your husband. But don't go; it is terrible." + +But before he could say more to stop her she had passed him, and was +running up the hill. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +NINETEENTH + + +Since the moment when the ice had been broken between Philip and Tom +Merivale, and, what was perhaps more vital, since that terrible ice +round Philip's heart had begun to thaw, talk between them, till then so +scanty and superficial, had taken a plunge into the depths of things, +into those cool, wavering obscurities that lie round the springs of life +and death. And the import of this was perhaps no less weighty to the +Hermit than it was to Philip; never before had he unveiled, not his +mystery, but his exceeding simplicity, to another, except in so far as +half-laughing paradox and the apparent marvel of the nightingale that +sat on his hand and sang could be considered as unveiling. But he was +very conscious in himself, with that premonition that birds and beasts, +and all the living things, that have not had their natural instincts +blunted for generations by indoor and artificial life, possess, that +something critical was at hand. What that was he could not guess, and, +indeed, refrained from trying to do so. But for months now he had waited +for some revelation, as a neophyte waits for a further initiation. As +far as he could tell he knew all the secrets of that antechamber in +which he waited. Up to a certain point his knowledge was complete and +consolidated; the joy of animate nature was utterly his, no thrush or +scudding blackbird knew better than he the joy that comes from the mere +fact of life and air and food and sleep and drink, of which every moment +brings its own reward. To none, too, could he have stated this so easily +as to his old friend, and the very fact that Philip was but now just +beginning to emerge from black and bitter waters, made his understanding +of it more piercing. It was the fresh, vital air to a man who has sunk +and nearly been drowned in a pool, from the depths of which he has but +just had strength to struggle, and lie with eyes but half open and mouth +that could only just drink in the freshness of the day God made. And it +was this very sunlight and freshness of air which penetrated to those +other depths which were the springs of life and death. From the bitter +depth of his own hell Philip had swum up into life, and yet as he went +up he was getting down, by the same movement, into other depths; but +these were cool, and no blackness mingled with their veiled obscurities. + +Early September this year in the New Forest had harked back to June. +After that day or two of storm and hot rain, the weather had cleared +again, and a week of golden hours, golden with the sun by day and with +the myriad shining of the stars by night, made one almost believe that +time had stopped, or that its incessant wheel had begun to run back to +the clean and early days of the world. That moment which had come to +Philip, when the outpouring of his bitterness and resentment were +stayed, was an epoch to him, which ranked by itself. It drew away from +his other days and deeds, it was a leaven that worked incessantly, +clouds cleared, Marah itself began to grow sweet, and splash by splash +pieces of his bitterness dropped like stones into that sea of +forgetfulness and forgiveness which, before any soul is complete and +ready to stand before God, must spread from pole to pole. The +determination to forget in most cases, as here, sets the tides on the +flow; forgiveness, the higher quality, is often the natural sequel. Yet +to forget a grudge is to have forgiven it, while forgiveness may be a +hard, metallic thing--the best perhaps of which we are capable--but it +will not grow soft until forgetfulness has come as well. The cause for +the grudge must cease to exist in the mind before the grudge can be +wholly forgiven. Poor Philip was not near that yet, but still bits of +the grudge kept falling into the sea of forgetfulness as from the +stalactitic roof of a cavern. Some dropped on the beach merely, and were +still hard and unabsorbed, but others fell fair, and a dead splash was +the end of them. + + * * * * * + +These tranquil golden days helped it all; while the huge beeches grew +slim and straight against the sky, while the warm, wholesome air was an +anæsthetic to his pain, and while above all this serene, joyous youth, a +patent, undeniable proof of the practical power of inward happiness, was +with him, it became daily more impossible to nurse and cherish any +bitterness, however well nourished. + +Philip had been here now nearly three weeks, and for the last ten days +he had lived completely cut off from any world but this. Telegrams and +communications at first had followed him from the City, but times were +quiet, and he had entrusted his junior partner with all power to act in +his absence, saying also that he felt sure that no business need be +referred to him. He wanted a month's complete rest, and if any news or +call for a decision came to him he would disregard it. He was to be +considered as at sea; nothing must reach him. Also he had begged Tom +Merivale not to take in any daily paper on his account; he was at +sea--that was exactly it--without the disadvantage of having to sleep in +a berth and use a quarter-deck for exercise. But on this transitory +planet an end to all things comes sooner or later, even when those +things are as imperishable as golden days. And, physically and +spiritually, the end was very near. + +They had dined one night as usual on the verandah, but for the first +time for ten days the wonderful twilight of stars was quenched, and a +thick blanket of cloud again overset the sky, and the heat of the +evening portended thunder. A week before this Merivale had told his +friend of that thunderstorm when Madge had been here with Evelyn, and +had confessed to passive complicity in their love. Philip had not +resented this either openly or secretly; Merivale had not encouraged it; +he had, so he thought to himself, but seen that it was inevitable. And +to-night the thunderous air brought up the previous storm to the +Hermit's mind. + +"The traces of that are cleared away," he said. "The tree that was +struck is firewood in the wood-shed now. But there is a wound; the +senseless fire came down from Heaven; it killed a beautiful living +thing, that tree." + +They had finished dinner, and Philip turned his chair sideways to the +table. + +"Yes, and where is the compensation?" he said. "Surely that is needless +suffering and needless death." + +"Ah, I don't believe that. You and I say it is needless, because we +cannot see what life is born from it. Your suffering, my dear fellow, +you thought that gratuitous, like a lightning flash, but it isn't; you +know that now." + +This had so often been mentioned between them that Philip did not wince +at it. + +"I take it on trust only," he said, "but the proof will come when, +because of what has happened to me, I am kinder, more indulgent to +others. If it has taught me that it is all good, but at present no test +has come. I have but lived here with you." + +He paused a moment. + +"And I must soon get back," he said. "Your _métier_ is here, but mine +isn't. This is your life, it has been my rest and my healing and my +hospital. But when one is well, one has to go back again. Oh, I know +that, I feel it in my bones. This has been given me in order that I may +make my life again. With it behind me I have to go--I should be a coward +if I did not; I should tacitly imply that I 'gave up' if I did not face +things again." + +He drew his chair a little closer to his friend. + +"Tom, you have saved me," he said, "but my salvation has to be proved. +It is all right for you to stop here, that I utterly believe, but I +believe as utterly that it is not for me. I must go back, and be decent, +and not be bitter. I must continue my normal life, I must play Halma +with my mother, and slang the gardeners if they are lazy. Now, dear old +chap, since my time here will be short, I want to talk to you about your +affairs. Or rather I want you to talk about them. I want to grasp as +clearly as I can any point of view which is not my own. That will help +me to understand the--the damnable muddle the world generally has got +into. It's all wrong; I can see that. Nobody goes straight for his aim. +We all--you don't--we all compromise, because other people compromise. +Now I don't want to do that any more. I want to see my aim, and go +straight for it. So tell me yours, and let me criticise. Any point of +view that is quite clear helps one to believe that there are other +points of view as clear, if one could but see them." + +A tired light came over the sky, as if drowsy eyelids had winked. +Through the clouds the reflection of distant lightning illuminated the +garden for a moment. There was a gap in the trees by the stream, where +the stricken tree had stood, but of its corpse nothing remained; it had +all been cut up and taken to make firewood for the winter. But a hot +air blew, and in the bushes those strange, unaccountable noises of +creaking twigs sounded insistently loud. + +"Ah, you know my gospel well enough," said Merivale. "The joy of life; +the joy inherent in the fact of life. I have really nothing more to tell +you of it--from living here with me you know it all. And you have to +peel life like an orange, to simplify it, to take the rind of +unnecessary things off, before you can really taste it." + +"Well, speak to me of your fear then." + +"I have no fear." + +He smiled with the convincing, boyish smile, that is pure happiness. + +"Oh, lots of things may happen," he said, "but I assure you that I don't +fear them. At least, I don't fear them with my reason. I feel +convinced--and that is a lot to say--that my general scheme of life was +right for me. Was? And will be. The future holds no more terrors than +the past. Indeed the two terms, which sound so opposite to most people, +are really one. Past or future, it is I. I have pursued the joys of +life, not beastly, sensual joys, for never have I had part in them, but +the clean, vital joy of living. And you tell me, as Evelyn has told me, +that there are vital pains of living, as clean and as essential as those +joys. Well, let them come. I am ready. They can come to-night if they +choose. Ah, the huge Bogey of pain and sorrow may come and lie on my +chest, like a nightmare. But my point is this----" + +He paused a moment. + +"If that is to be, if that is essential," he said, "I give it the same +welcome as I have ever given to joy. It may frighten me out of +existence, because the body is a poor sort of thing, and an ounce of +lead or less will kill it, or, what is worse, deprive it of sight or +hearing. But whatever can happen cannot hurt me, this me. Do you tell me +that a rifle bullet, or a hangman's noose can kill me? And can a +frightful revelation of all the sorrow of the world, and its pain, and +its terror, and its preying, the one creature on another, touch my +belief that life is triumphant, and that joy is triumphant over pain? +Oh, I can believe most things, but not that. Should that come, I daresay +my stupid flesh would shrink, shrink till it died if you like. But me? +How does it touch me?" + +He looked round with a sudden startled air, even as the words were on +his lips. + +"Tramp, tramp," he said, "there is a skipping and jumping in the bushes. +I saw a frightful big goat on the ridge to-day, and it followed me, +butting and sparring. I could almost think it had got into the garden. +There is a sort of goaty smell, too. Well, it can't reach me in the +hammock. Ah, there is lightning again: there is going to be a storm +to-night." + +"Sleep indoors," said Philip quietly. He was quiet, for fear of his +nerves. But Tom laughed. + +"I should rather say to you 'Sleep outside,'" he said. "If the lightning +makes another shot here, it will certainly shoot at the highest thing, +and the house is much higher than my hammock." + +He looked at him a moment in silence, with the pity that is akin not to +contempt, but to love. + +"Ah, you are afraid of fear," he said. "That is one degree worse than +anything we need be afraid of. It is of our own making, too. We dress up +Fear like a turnip-ghost and then scream with terror at it. Or, don't +you remember as a child making faces at yourself in a looking-glass till +you were so frightened you could scarcely move? That is what most of us +do all our lives." + +Again, and rather more vividly, a blink of lightning was reflected in +the clouds, and from far off the thunder muttered sleepily. + +"So when I go," asked Philip, "I can think of you as being as happy and +fearless--as certain of yourself and the scheme of the world as ever?" + +Merivale smiled. + +"Yes, assuredly you can do that," he said, "and though I do not like to +hear you talk of going, of course I know you must. If you stopped here +you would get bored and fidgetty. You have not at present because you +have been getting well, and in convalescence all conditions, so long as +one is allowed to stop still, are delightful. But your place, your work +is not here. I feel that as strongly as you. You have the harder part; +you have to go back and sort the grains of gold from the great lumps of +worthless alloy, and distinguish many things that glitter from the royal +metal. However, you know all that as well as I do." + +He leaned forward over the table, and looked very earnestly at Philip. + +"Think of me always as happy," he said, "and think of me as of a man who +is waiting in an antechamber, waiting to be summoned to a great +Presence. At least that is how I feel myself, how strongly and certainly +I cannot explain to you. Here am I in this beautiful and wonderful +antechamber, the world which I love so, in which I have passed days and +months of such extraordinary happiness. But at one end of the +antechamber there is a curtain drawn, and behind that is the Presence. +Soon I think it will be drawn back and I shall see what is behind it. I +think it will be drawn soon, for--all this imagery is so clumsy for what +is so simple--for lately the curtain has been stirred, so it seems to +me, from the other side: it has been jerked so that often I have thought +that each moment it was to be drawn away, whereas till lately it has +always hung in heavy, motionless folds. And I am waiting in front of it, +conscious still--oh, so fully conscious--of all the beautiful things I +have loved, but looking at them no longer, for I can look nowhere but at +the curtain which stirs and is twitched as if someone is on the point of +drawing it back." + +He paused a moment, but did not take his eyes off Philip, but continued +looking at him very gravely, very affectionately. + +"Of course I cannot help guessing what lies behind," he said, "and +conjecturing and reasoning. It may be several things; at least it may +appear under several forms, but of this I am certain, that it is God. +And will there be a blinding flash of joy, which shows me that even the +sorrow and the death which is everywhere is no less part of perfection +than the joy and the life? Even now, as you know, in my puny little +attempts to be happy in the way that Nature is happy, youth has come +back to me in some extraordinary manner, and when I see what I shall +see, will immortal life, lived here and now, be my portion? I don't +know; I think it quite possible. And if that is so, if that is the +initiation--ah, my God! that impulse of joy which I shall receive will +spread from me like the circles in a pool when a stone is thrown into +it." + +He paused again, his smooth brown hands trembling a little. + +"The Pan-pipes, too," he said--"they are never silent now: I hear them +all the time, and I take that to mean that I am at last never +unconscious of the hymn of life. I heard them at first, you know, just +in snatches and broken stanzas, when I could screw myself up to the +realisation of the song without end and without words that goes up from +the earth day and night. Where does it come from? As I told Evelyn, I +neither know nor care. Perhaps my brain conceives it, and sends the +message to my ears, but it is really simpler to suppose that I hear it, +just as you hear my voice talking to you now. For there is no question +as to the fact of its existence; the hymn of praise does go on forever. +So, perhaps, in my small way, I am complete, so to speak, with regard to +that. Then--then there is another thing that may be behind the curtain. +It may be that I shall be shown, and if I am shown this, it must be +right and necessary--all the sorrow and pain and death that is in the +world. I have turned my back on it; I have said it was not for me. But +perhaps it will have to be for me. And that--to use a convenient +phrase--will be to see Pan." + +He paused on the word, then shook his hair back from his forehead, and +got up. + +"And now I have told you all," he said. + +Philip got up, too, feeling somehow as if he had been mesmerised. He +could remember all that Merivale had said; it was strangely vivid, but +it had a dreamlike vividness about it; the fabric, the texture, the +colour of it, for all its vividness, was unreal somehow, unearthly. But +as to the reality of it and the truth of it, no question entered his +head. He had never heard anything, no commonplace story or chronicle of +indubitable events which was less fantastic. He looked out in silence a +moment over the garden, and though half an hour ago he had been vaguely +frightened at the thought of the mysterious and occult powers that keep +watch over the world, yet now when they had been spoken of with such +frankness, so that they seemed doubly as real as they had before, he was +frightened no longer. It was, indeed, as Merivale had said; he had been +afraid of fear. + +It was already very late, and after a few trivial words he went indoors +to go up to bed. As he got to the bottom of the stairs he looked back +once, and saw his friend standing still on the verandah, with his face +towards him. And as Philip turned, Merivale, standing under the lamp in +his white shirt and flannels, with collar unfastened at the neck and +sleeves rolled up to the elbow, smiled and nodded to him. + +"Good night!" he said; "sleep well. I think you are learning how to do +that again." + + * * * * * + +Philip began undressing as soon as he got to his room, feeling +unaccountably tired and weary. His servant slept in a room just opposite +him, and he hesitated for a moment as to whether he should tell him not +to call him in the morning till he rang, for he had that heaviness of +head which only satiety of sleep entirely removes. But it was already +late, and the man had probably been in bed and asleep for some time. So +he closed his door, drew the blind down over his window, and put out his +light. His brain, for all the vividness of that evening's talk, seemed +absolutely numb and empty, as if all memory were dead, and he fell +asleep instantly. + +He slept heavily for several hours, and then external sounds began to +mingle themselves with his dreams, and he thought he was in a large, +empty, brown-coloured hall lit by dim windows very high up, through +which a faint, tired light was peering. But now and again the squares of +these windows would be lit up for a moment vividly from outside, and as +often as this happened some low, heavy, tremulous sound echoed in the +vault above him like a bass bourdon note. He was conscious, too, that +many unseen presences surrounded him; the hall was thick with them, and +they were all saying: "Hush-sh-sh!" A sense of deadly oppression and +coming calamity filled him, he was waiting for something, not knowing +what it was. Then the coils of sleep began to be more loosened, and +before long he awoke. His room looked out over the garden, and the +"Hush-sh-sh" was but the rain that fell heavily on to the shrubs below +his window. Then the light and the tremulous note were explained too, +for suddenly the window started into brightness, and a couple of seconds +after a sonorous roll of thunder followed. But the uneasiness of the +dream had not passed: he still felt frightfully apprehensive. All desire +for sleep, however, had left him, and for some half hour, perhaps, he +lay still, listening to the windless rain, for the night was so still +that his blind hung over the open window without tapping or stirring. +Then with curious abruptness the rain ceased altogether and there was +dead silence. + +Then suddenly a frightful cry rent and shattered the stillness, and from +outside a screaming, strangled voice called: + +"Oh, my God!" it yelled. "Oh, Christ!" + +For one moment Philip lay in the grip and paralysis of mortal fear, but +the next he broke through it, and sprang out of bed, and, not pausing to +light a candle, stumbled to the door. At the same moment his servant's +door flew open, and he came out with a white, scared face. He carried a +lighted candle. + +"It was from the garden, sir," he said. "It was Mr. Merivale's voice." + +Philip did not answer, but went quickly downstairs, followed by the man. +The door into the verandah stood open, as usual, and he hurried out. +There on the table were the cloth and the remains of dessert; his chair +stood where he had sat all evening; Merivale's was pushed sideways. The +moon was somewhere risen behind the clouds, for thick as they were, the +darkness was not near pitch, and followed by the servant, the light of +whose candle tossed weird, misshapen shadows about, Philip set his teeth +and went down towards where the hammock was slung in which Merivale +usually slept. + +That strange, pungent smell, which he had noticed more than once before, +was heavy in the air, and infinitely stronger and more biting than it +had been. And for one moment his flesh crept so that he stopped, waiting +for the man to come up with the light. He could not face what might be +there alone. + +A few yards further on they came in sight of the hammock. Something +white, a flannelled figure, glimmered there, but, like some strange, +irregular blot, something black concealed most of the occupant. Then +that black thing, whatever it was, suddenly skipped into the air and ran +with dreadful frolicsome leaps and bounds and tappings on the brick path +of the pergola, down to the far end of the garden, where they lost sight +of it. Then they came to the hammock. + +Merivale was sitting up in it, bunched up together with his head drawn +back, as if avoiding some deadly contact. His lips were drawn back from +his teeth, so that the gums showed, his eyes were wide-open, and terror +incarnate sat there, and the pupils were contracted to a pin-point as if +focussed on something but an inch or two from him. He was not dead, for +his chest heaved with dreadful spasms of breathing, and Philip took him +up and carried him away from that haunted place into the house, laying +him on a rug in the passage. + +But before they had got him there the breathing had ceased, the mouth +and the eyes had closed, and what they looked on was just the figure of +a boy whose mouth smiled, and who was sunk in happy, dreamless sleep. + +There was nothing to be done. Philip knew that, but he sent his servant +off at once to fetch a doctor from Brockenhurst, while he waited and +watched by Merivale or what had been he. All terror and shrinking had +utterly passed from that face, and Philip himself, in spite of the +frightful, inexplicable thing that had happened, was not frightened +either, but sat by him, feeling curiously calm and serene, hardly +conscious even of sorrow or regret. Nor did he fear any incomer from the +garden. For the curtain had been drawn, and the dead man had felt so +sure that whatever form the revelation was to take, it would be God, +that the assurance of his belief filled and quieted the man who watched +by him. + +His shirt was open at the neck, as Philip had seen him last, standing +below the lamp on the verandah, and his sleeves were rolled back to +above the elbow. And as Philip looked, he saw slowly appearing on the +skin of his chest and the sunburnt arms curious marks, which became +gradually clearer and more defined, marks pointed at one end, the print +of some animal's hoofs, as if a monstrous goat had leaped and danced on +him. + + * * * * * + +It was a week later, and Philip was seated alone with his mother in the +small drawing-room of his house at Pangbourne which they generally used +if there was no one with them. He had arrived home only just before +dinner that night, and when it was over he had talked long to her, +describing all that had happened during his stay with Merivale, all +that had culminated in that night of terror about which even now he +could hardly speak. The story had been a long one, sometimes he spoke +freely, at other points there were silences, for the words would not +come, and his choking throat and trembling lips had to be controlled +before he could find utterance. For it concerned not Merivale only; and, +indeed, friend of his heart as he had been, one who could never be +replaced, Philip could scarcely think of his death as sad. + +"For though," he said, "just for that moment when he cried on God's name +and on the name of Christ, when that terror, whatever it was, came close +to him, the flesh was weak, yet I know he was not afraid. He had told me +so: his spirit was not afraid. And he so longed to see the curtain +drawn." + +The joy of getting Philip back again, the joy, too, of knowing that that +black crust of hate and despair no longer shut him off from her, was so +great, that Mrs. Home hardly regarded the anxiety she would otherwise +have felt. For she had never seen Philip like this; what had happened +had stirred him to the depths of his soul. Even the sudden and dreadful +death of so old a friend she could not have imagined would have affected +him so. + +"Philip, dear," she said, "you are terribly excited and overwrought. Get +yourself more in control, my darling." + +He was quiet for a moment, and even lit a cigarette, but he threw it +away again immediately. + +"Ah, mother, when I have finished you will see," he said. "Let me go +on." + +He paused a moment, and the soft stroking of her hand on his calmed him. + +"It was just dawn when Flynn came back with the doctor," he said; "a +clear, dewy dawn, the sort of dawn Tom loved. The doctor needed but one +glance, one touch. Then he said: 'Yes, he has been dead for more than an +hour.' So I suppose I had sat there as long as that; I did not think it +had been more than a minute or two. Then his eye fell on those marks and +bruises I told you of, and he looked at them. He undressed him a little +further: there were more of them. I needn't go into that, but you know +what the surface of a lane looks like when a flock of sheep has +passed?--it was like that. + +"All this, of course, came out at the inquest, where I told all I knew, +and Flynn corroborated it. I saw also what Tom had told me that +afternoon, how a huge goat had sparred and gambolled round him as he +came home across the forest. And the verdict, as you say, perhaps, was +brought in, in accordance with that. The world will be quite satisfied. +I am satisfied, too, but not in that way." + +He was silent again a moment, and then went on. + +"It all hangs together," he said; "the dear Hermit was not as all of us +are: he could talk to birds and beasts, and the very peace of God +encompassed him. He knew, in a way we don't, that all-embracing +fatherhood. I learned slowly, these weeks I was with him, what the truth +of that was to him. And he used often to speak, as you know, of the grim +side of Nature, of the cruelty and death, which he had turned his face +from, which he called Pan, who, as the myths have it, appeared in form +like a goat, to see whom was death. We had been talking of it that +night, we both heard curious tramplings in the bushes, and the pungent +smell of a goat. Every sensible person, considering, too, that he had +seen a big goat that afternoon, would come to the conclusion that, +somehow or other the brute had found its way into the garden, and had +sprung on him like a wild beast, and trampled him. Then, too, he was +thinking about Pan; he might have imagined when the goat appeared, that +this was what he in those imaginings, if you like, which were as real to +him as the sun and moon, believed to be Pan, and that he died of fright. +The jury took the view that some wild goat was the cause of his death: I +daresay fifty juries would have done the same. But if you ask me whether +I believe that a goat, a flesh and blood goat, killed him, why I laugh +at you. For what goat was that? Who saw the goat except the Hermit?" + +He paused again, and looked up at his mother with sudden solicitude. + +"Ah, dear, you are crying," he said. "Shall I not go on?" + +Again that gentle, loving stroking of his hand began. + +"Ah, my son," she said. + +Philip kissed the hand that stroked his. These lines were easy to read +between. + +But if he had more to tell his mother, she had something also to tell +him that he did not know yet. + +"You see, I saw such strange and impossible things there," he went on, +"that nothing seems strange nor impossible. It was like an allegory: Tom +himself was an allegory. The birds came to his bidding, the shy +creatures of the forest were his friends. It was no miracle: it was but +what we all could do, if we realised what he realised, and knew as he +knew the brotherhood of all that lives. He put into practice the theory +of Darwinism that no one in theory denies. The living things were his +brothers and his cousins: they knew it, too. But from one huge fact, the +fact of sorrow and pain, he turned aside, and, so I believe, it all came +to him in a flash, making him perfect. And it came in material form, at +least it was so material that it could bruise his flesh. It seems cruel; +but--oh, mother, if you had seen his face afterwards, you would have +known that the hand that made him suffer comforted him when he had +learned what the suffering had to teach him. It could have been done, I +must suppose, in no other way." + +Then for a little the strong man was very weak, and he broke down and +wept. But one who weeps while eyes so tender watch, weeps tears that are +not bitter, or at least are sweetened, each one, as it falls. Then again +he went on: much as he had told, there was all to tell yet, yet that all +was but short--a few words were sufficient. + +"And so my lesson came home to me," he said. "A month ago I said, as you +know, 'I will hate, I will injure.' A fortnight ago I said, 'What good +is that?' But now, when poor Tom, who was all kind and all gentle, had +to be taught like that, with those battering hoofs, that pain must be +and that one must accept it and sorrow, and not leave them out of life, +now I say, 'Can I help? May not I bear a little of it?'" + +He got up. + +"You don't know me," he said. "I don't know myself. But I suppose this +is how such a thing comes to one. I have been in an outer darkness: I +have been black and bitter and all my life before that I was hard. That, +I suppose, was needful for me. I don't think I am going to be a prig, +but if that is so, perhaps it doesn't much matter. But I do know this, +that I am sorry for poor things." + +Mrs. Home said nothing for the moment; then she turned her eyes away as +she spoke. + +"You have not heard then, dear?" she said. + +"I have heard nothing." + +"It was in the paper this evening," she said. "I know no more than that. +Evelyn was shot in the face yesterday." + +Then her voice quivered. + +"They think he will live," she said. "But they know he will be blind. +Oh, Philip, think of Evelyn blind!" + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +TWENTIETH + + +The room where Madge had talked with her mother on the evening of her +first day at Glen Callan was darkened, and only a faint, muffled light +came in through the blinded windows. The clean, neat apparatus of +nursing was there, a fire burned on the hearth, by which Madge sat, and +on the bed lay a figure, the face of which was swathed in bandages. The +whole of the upper part of it was thus covered, only the chin and mouth +appeared, and round the mouth was the three days' beard of a young man. + +It was a little after midday; the nurse had gone to her lunch, and had +told Madge to ring for her if she wanted her. It was not the least +likely: all was going as well as it apparently could, but while Evelyn +was still feverish it was necessary to be on the guard for any one of a +myriad dangers that might threaten him. There was the danger of +blood-poisoning; there were the after-effects of the shock; other things +also were possible. Madge had not inquired into it all; she knew only +what it was right for her to know if she was in charge of the sick-room +for an hour or two. If he got very restless, if he came to himself--for +he was kept drowsy with drugs--and complained of pain, she was to ring +the bell. But the nurse did not think that there was any real likelihood +of any of these things happening. + +They had carried him back over the wire bridge, above which the accident +had happened, and now for nearly forty-eight hours he had lain where he +lay now. By great good luck a surgeon of eminent skill had been staying +in a house not very far off, and he had come over at once, in answer to +this call, and done what had to be done. Madge had seen him afterwards, +and very quietly, as Evelyn's wife, had asked to be told, frankly and +fully, what had been necessary. Sir Francis Egmont, whose surgical skill +was only equalled by his human kindness, had told her all. + +"He won't die, my dear lady," he had said. "I feel sure of that. He will +get over it, and live to be strong again. But--yes, you must be brave +about it, and more than that, you must help him to be brave, poor +fellow." + +This happened in the sitting-room adjoining. Sir Francis took a turn up +and down before he went on. Then he sat in a chair just opposite Madge, +and took her hands in his. And his grey eyes looked at her from under +the eyebrows, which were grey also. + +"Yes, you have got to make him brave," he repeated, "and there is your +work cut out for you in the world. You are young and strong, and your +youth and strength have got their mission now. Don't label me an old +preacher; old I am, but I don't preach, Mrs. Dundas, unless I am sure of +my audience. And I am sure of you. Your husband will get well. But his +face will be terribly disfigured. That must be. That could not be +helped. And there is another thing. He will be blind. Yes, yes, take the +truth of that now, for it is you who have to enable him to bear it. +Blind! Ah, my dear girl--I call you that: you are so young, and I am so +sorry!" + + * * * * * + +How it had happened hardly interested her. They had been walking in +line, it appeared, on the steep hill-side, where she had seen them as +she sat on the top of the cliff above the Bridge-pool. Then a hare had +got up, and Lord Ellington had fired. The shot struck a rock not far in +front, and of the whole charge some ten pellets had ricocheted back and +hit Evelyn in the face. One eye was destroyed, the other was so injured +that it had been found impossible to save it; other pellets had lodged +in his face. All this--the manner of the accident--did not matter to +Madge: the thing had happened, it was only wonderful that he was alive. + +But the operation--what it was Madge did not inquire, for it would do no +good--had satisfied the surgeon. He could not have expected better +results, he would not have predicted results so good. With the +unhesitating obedience to duty, which is the motto and watchword of his +profession, he had stopped in Lady Dover's house, waiting till he could +without misgiving or fear of after-results, leave the case. All +yesterday he had been in and out of the sick-room, he had slept in the +dressing-room last night, and had only left an hour or two before, when +he could put his patient into the skilled hands of the nurse who had +come from Inverness. He was a kind, shy man, and fumbled dreadfully in +his pockets as Lady Dover saw him off. + +"You will do me a great service, Lady Dover," he had said, "if you will +convey somehow to Mrs. Dundas that her debt to me, whatever it is, is +discharged. Discharged it is; to see a woman being brave is sufficient. +Besides, I am on my holiday: I could not think of taking a fee. So if so +absurd a notion occurs to her--ah, the motor is ready, I see, but if so +absurd a thing occurs--you, my dear lady, will please exercise your +tact, you will let her be under no obligation, please. A Daimler +surely--beautiful machines, are they not--yes, just a little tact--I was +in the house or something--I am sure you will manage it--besides, on my +holiday. Yes, good-bye, good-bye. I think I have told the nurse +everything, and the doctor from Inverness--dear me, his name has gone +again, whom I am very pleased to have met, is, I am sure, most reliable. +God bless my soul, poor Dundas, a rising painter too; well, I'm no +judge. But it is pitiful, isn't it? Of course, if I am wanted again, +I'll step over at once: Brora, you know, it's no trouble at all. And the +poor fellow, too, who caused this accident; I'm sorry for him, +too--nobody's fault. But tell him we'll pull Mr. Dundas through--oh, +yes, we'll pull him through, and there's Braill's system and all +afterwards. A brave woman, you know, Mrs. Dundas is; does one good, that +sort of woman. Very brave. She'll need to be, poor thing, too. Good-bye, +good-bye." + +But Evelyn lay still, and there was no need for Madge to ring for the +nurse. Sometimes he shifted his head from side to side, and occasionally +he put a hand up to the bandage that covered his face, with little moans +and sighs below his breath. Madge had been warned to be on the alert for +this, and very gently, as often as he did this, she would take the +feeble, wandering fingers in hers and lay his arm back again on the +blanket. It was something even to have that to do, the slightest, most +trivial act, was a relief from absolute inaction. Yet all the time she +dreaded with ever-increasing shrinking of the heart the hour when she +should have to act indeed, when her husband would come to, and begin to +ask questions. No one but she, she was determined, should answer them; +it was she who would tell him all that he had yet to learn. Would it +kill him, she wondered, when he knew? Would he die simply because life +was no longer desirable or possible? Blind! Madge could not fully grasp +that herself yet, but she felt she must realise it, she must make haste +to realise it before she was called upon to tell him. Lady Dover, her +mother, Sir Francis, had all urged her to let him be told by someone +else; but Madge would not hear of it; some wifely instinct was stronger +than any reason that could be suggested. + +There was another thing which she shrank from, too, though in part that +would be spared Evelyn, the disfigurement about which Sir Francis had +spoken. He had told her it would be terrible, and she had to get used to +that in anticipation, so that when she saw it, she should not shrink, or +let Evelyn guess. He would not be able to see it himself; as far as that +went, it was merciful. All that splendid beauty, which she loved so, the +brightness and the sunshine of his face, she would never see again. A +few details about that the surgeon had told her; it was horrible. Her +love for him, her love for his beauty were inseparable; she could not +disentangle them, the latter was part of the whole. Yet though she knew +that it was gone, it was impossible to imagine that the whole was +diminished, though a part of it was withdrawn. But she had been warned +how terrible the change would be, and what if involuntarily, without +power of control, her flesh recoiled, her nerves shrank from him? Yet +that was the one thing that must not be; all that she could do for him +was to make him know and feel that in every way the completeness of her +love for him was undiminished, and only that pity, the broad, sweet +shining of pity, framed it as with a halo. She knew that this was true +essentially and fundamentally, but she had to make it true not only in +principle, but in the conduct of the little trivial deeds of life. She +must act up to it always; his closeness, his bodily presence, must not +be one whit less physically dear to her. + +Blind! Ah, if she only could take that and bear it for him, how vastly +easier even to her personally than that it should be borne by him! For +it was from that, from the exquisite pleasures of the eye, that as from +a fountain his gaiety, his joy of life, chiefly sprang. Of the five +senses that one was to him more than all the rest put together; of the +five chords that bound him to life and made the material world real the +strongest had been severed, and the others in comparison were but as +frayed strings. Any other loss would have been trivial compared with +this, and how doubly, trebly trivial would the same loss have been to +her. But that it should come to him! How could he bear it? + +There was nothing to be reasoned about in all this: she had but to let +thoughts like these just go round and round in her head, till she got +more used to them. Round and round they went, yet at each recurrence +each seemed not a whit less unendurable. She tried to imagine herself +telling him; she went even over forms of words, choosing the speech that +should tell it him most gently, and even while she spoke should make +him, force him, to feel that by the very fact of her love the burden and +the misery of it all was more hers to bear than his. Yet what were +words, this mere formula, "It hurts me more than you?" That did not make +it hurt him less. A pain that is shared by another is not diminished; +there is double the pain to bear, a dreadful automatic multiplication of +it alone takes place. It was all too crushingly recent yet for poor +Madge to refrain from such a conclusion; it seemed to her as yet that +this was a dark place into which the light of sympathy could not +penetrate. She herself certainly was at present beyond its range; the +kindness, the deep pity, which all felt for her did not reach her yet. + +The nurse returned from her dinner, and with her came the Inverness +doctor, a kind, rugged man. Bandages had to be changed, and fresh +dressings to be put on, and Madge left the room for this, for she had +been told that if she saw his face now she would be needlessly shocked. +When the wounds healed, it would not be nearly so bad. So, though she +would really have preferred to know worse than the worst, she yielded to +this. + +Madge went downstairs while this was going on, and found Lady Dover +waiting in the hall. The rest of the party had all left yesterday, and +though Lady Ellington had offered, and, indeed, really wished to remain, +Madge had persuaded her to go; for the girl, out of the range of +sympathy and pity at present, found the consolation that Lady Ellington +tried to administer like a series of sharp raps on a sore place. Also +Madge could not help reading into it a sort of tacit reproach for her +having married him. The accident, indeed, seemed to have stained +backwards in Lady Ellington's mind, and to have re-endowed the marriage +itself with disaster. + +But Lady Dover's touch was very different to her mother's; indeed it was +because it did not seem to be a "touch" at all that Madge unconsciously +answered to it. + +"Ah, there you are, dear," she said; "I was expecting you. Will you not +get on your hat, and come out for a little? It will do you good to get +the air, and it is a lovely afternoon. I have never seen the lights and +shadows more exquisite." + +It was this that poor Madge wanted, though she did not know she wanted +it, just the cool spring water, the wholesome white bread of a kind, +natural woman. Sympathy was no good to her yet, consolation could not +touch her, but just the quiet, patient kindness was bearable, it made +the moment bearable from its very restfulness; the lights and the +shadows were still there, Lady Dover still talked of them, and though +she did not know it, it was this very fact that other lives went on as +usual that secretly brought a certain comfort to Madge. + +"Yes, I will come out," she said; "but I don't want a hat. I cannot go +far, though." + +"No, we will just take a turn or two up and down the terrace. We get the +sun there, and it is sheltered from the wind, which is rather cold +to-day." + +Simple and unsophisticated as the spell was, if spell indeed there was, +it worked magically on the poor girl, and for a little while that +dreadful round of the impossible images which formed the panorama of her +future ceased to turn in her head. Had Lady Dover's tone suggested +sympathy, or, which would have been worse, spoken of the healing power +of time, Madge could not have spoken. But now, when that incessant +procession of the unthinkable future was stayed, she could focus her +mind for a little on a practical question which must soon arise, and on +which she wanted advice. + +"I want your counsel," she said. "They are going to give Evelyn, the +doctor told me, no more drugs, and by this evening he will be himself +again, fully conscious. Now, unless I deceive him, unless I tell him +that he is being kept for the present in absolute darkness, he must find +out that--that he is blind. Soon, anyhow, he must know it. Is it any +use, do you think, putting it off?" + +Lady Dover did not, as Madge's mother would certainly have done, squeeze +her hand and utter words of sympathy. She did not even look at Madge, +but with those clear, level eyes looked straight in front of her while +she considered this. Her first instinct was, as would have been the +instinct of everyone, to say something sympathetic, but her wisdom--the +existence of which Lady Ellington really did not believe in--gave her +better counsel. For to be natural is not synonymous with doing the first +thing that happens to come into one's head. + +"That must be partly for Dr. Inglis to decide," she said; "but if he +sanctions it, I should certainly say that you had better tell him at +once. I think people get used to things better and more gradually while +they are still weak and perhaps suffering, though Dr. Inglis said he +thought he would have no pain, whereas the same thing is a greater shock +if one is well; it hits harder then. He perhaps will half-guess for +himself, too; all that would torture him. To know the worst, I think, is +not so bad as to fear the worst." + +They had reached the end of the terrace and looked out over the river a +couple of hundred feet below. Just opposite them was the Bridge-pool, +beyond which rose the steep moorland. Ever since it had happened, Madge +had given no outward sign of her helpless, devouring anguish; she had +been perfectly composed; there had been no tears, no raving cries. But +now she turned quickly away. + +"I can't bear to look at it," she said. "There was a piece of white +heather, too, where he fell." + +Lady Dover's sweet, rather Quakerish face did not change at all, her +quiet wisdom still held sway. + +"We are wrong, I think," she said, "to associate material things with +great grief. One cannot always wholly help it, but I think one should +try to discourage it in oneself. I remember so well walking on this +terrace, Madge, just after my mother died. It was a day rather like +this; there were the same exquisite lights on the hills. And I remember +I tried consciously to dissociate them from my own grief. I think it was +wise. I would do it again, at least, which, in one's own case, comes to +the same thing." + +She paused a moment; there was one thing she wanted to say, and she +believed it might do Madge good to have it said. Deep and overwhelming +as her grief was, Lady Dover knew well that anything that took her mind +off herself was salutary. + +"But sometimes, on the other hand," she went on, "we ought to remember +those people who have been most associated with it. It does not do any +good to anyone to shudder at the heather. But I think, dear, it would be +kind if you just wrote a line to Lord Ellington. I think you have +forgotten him, and what he must feel." + +For the moment she doubted if she had done wisely, so bitter was Madge's +reply. + +"Ah, I can never forgive him!" she cried. "To think that but for +him----" And she broke off with quivering lip. + +Lady Dover did not reply at once, but the doubt did not gain ground. + +"I think, dear, that that is better unsaid," she replied at length. "You +do not really mean it either; your best self does not mean it." + +Again she paused, for she did not think very quickly. + +"And this, too," she said, "you must consider. How can you help Mr. +Dundas not to feel bitter and resentful, for he has more direct cause to +feel it than you, if you have that sort of thought in your heart? You +will be unable to help him, in the one way in which you perhaps can, if +you feel like that. Also, dear, supposing any one of us, Dover, I, Mr. +Osborne, had to become either Mr. Dundas or Lord Ellington, do you think +any of us could hesitate a moment? Do you not see that of all the people +who have been made miserable by this terrible accident, which of them +must be the most miserable?" + +Then came the second outward sign from Madge. She took Lady Dover's hand +in both of hers. + +"Don't judge me too hardly," she said. "I spoke very hastily, very +wrongly. I have been thinking of my own misery too much; I have not +thought enough about poor Evelyn. But I did not know there was such +sorrow in the world." + +Lady Dover looked at her a moment, and drew her gently to a seat behind +some bushes. And her own pretty, neat face was suddenly puckered up. + +"Oh, Madge," she said, "just let yourself go for ten minutes, and cry, +my dear, sob your heart out, as they say. Have a good cry, dear; it will +do you good. It is not cowardly, that--it helps one, it softens one, and +it makes one braver perhaps afterwards. Yes, dear, let it come." + +And then the fountain of tears was unloosed, and those sobs, those deep +sobs which come from the heart of living and suffering men and women, +and are a sign and a proof, as it were, of their humanity, poured out. +Madge had surrendered, she had ceased to hold herself aloof; brave she +had been before, but brave in a sort of impenetrable armour of her own +reserve. But now she cast it aside, and the womanhood which her love for +Evelyn had begun to wake in her, came to itself and its own, more heroic +than it had been before, because the armour was cast aside, and she +stood defenceless, but fearless. + +Before she went up again to Evelyn's room she wrote: + +MY DEAR ELLINGTON, + + I had no opportunity of speaking to you---- + +Then her pen paused; that was not quite honest, and she began again: + + I ought to have just seen you before you went yesterday, and I must + ask your pardon that I did not. I just want to say this, that I am + more sorry for you than I can possibly tell you, and I ask you to + say to yourself, and to keep on saying to yourself, that it was in + no way your fault. Also perhaps you may like to know how entirely I + recognise that, and so, I know, will he. + + You will wish, of course, to hear about him. He is going on very + well, though up to now they have kept him under morphia. He will be + quite blind, though. We must all try to make that affliction as + light as possible for him. And I want so much to make you promise + not to blame yourself. Please don't; there is no blame. It was + outside the control of any of us. + + I will write again and tell you how he gets on.--Your affectionate + cousin, + +MADGE DUNDAS. + +Evelyn's room looked out on to the terrace, away from the direction of +the wind, and the nurse had just gone to the window to open it further, +for the room, warmed by the afternoon sun, was growing rather hot. But +just then he stirred with a more direct and conscious movement than he +had yet made, half-sat up in bed, and with both hands suddenly felt at +the bandages that swathed the upper part of his face. Then he spoke in +those quick, staccato tones that were so characteristic. + +"What has happened?" he said. "Where am I? What's going on? Why can't I +see? Madge----" And then he stopped suddenly. + +She bit her lip for a moment, and just paused, summoning up her strength +to bear what she knew was coming. Then she went quickly to the bedside +and took his hand away from his face. + +"Yes, dearest, I am here," she said. "Lie quiet, won't you, and we will +talk." + +The nurse had come back from the window, and also stood by the bed. +Madge spoke to her quickly and low. + +"Leave us, please, nurse," she said. "We have got to talk privately. I +will call you if I want you." + +She left the room; Evelyn had instinctively answered to Madge's voice, +and had sunk back again on his pillows, and slowly in the long silence +that followed, his mind began piecing things together, burrowing, +groping, feeling for the things that had made their mark on his brain, +but were remembered at present only dimly. The remembrance of some shock +came first to him, and some sudden, stinging pain; next the smell of +heather, warm and fragrant, and another bitter-tasting smell, the smell +of blood. He put out his hand, and felt fumblingly over the clothes. + +"Madge, are you still there?" he said quickly. + +She took his hand. + +"Yes, dear, sitting by you," she said. "I shall always be here whenever +you want me." + +Then came the staccato voice again. + +"But why can't I see you?" he asked. "What's this over my face?" + +Again she gently pulled back his other hand, which was feeling the +bandages with quick, hovering movements like the antennæ of some insect. + +"You were hurt, dear, you know," she said. "They had to bandage your +face, over your forehead and your eyes." + +Again there was silence; his mind was beginning to move more quickly, +remembrance was pouring in from all sides. + +"It was at Glen--Glen something, where we came by a night train, and you +flirted with a valet," he said. + +"Yes, dear, Glen Callan," said Madge quietly. But her eyes yearned and +devoured him: all her heart was ready now, when the time came, to spring +towards him, enfolding him with love. + +But his voice was fretful rather and irritable, from shock and +suffering. + +"Yes, Glen Callan, of course," he said. "I said Glen Callan, didn't I? +We are there, still, I suppose. Yes? And you went fishing in the +morning, and I went shooting. Shooting?" he repeated. + +All that Madge had ever felt before in her life grew dim in the +intensity of this. The moment was close now, but somehow she no longer +feared it. Fear could not live in these high altitudes: it died like +some fever-germ. + +"Yes, dear, you went shooting," she said. "We were to meet at lunch, you +know. But just before lunch there was an accident. You were shot, shot +in the face." + +His hands grew restless again, and he shifted backwards and forwards in +bed. + +"Ah, yes," he said, "that is just what I could not remember. I was +shot--yes, yes: I remember how it stung, but it didn't hurt very much. +Then I fell down in the heather: I can't think why, but I stumbled--I +couldn't see. I was bleeding, too; the heather was warm and +sweet-smelling, but there was blood, too, that tasted so +horrible--like--like blood, there is nothing--all over my face. And +then--well, what then?" + +"We brought you back, dear," said she, "and you had an operation. They +had to extract the shot. It was all done very satisfactorily: you are +going on very well." + +Then all the nervous trembling in Evelyn's hands and the quick twitching +of his body ceased, and he lay quite still a moment, gathering himself +together to hear. + +"Madge," he said, speaking more slowly, "will you please tell me all? I +don't think you have told me all yet. I want to hear it, for I feel +there is more yet. I was shot: that is all I know, and am lying here +with a bandaged face. Well?" + +Madge's voice did not falter; that love and pity which possessed her had +for this moment anyhow complete mastery over the frailness and cowardice +of the mere flesh. She just took hold of both his hands, clasping them +tightly in her's, and spoke. + +"You were shot all over the upper part of your face," she said. +"You----" + +But he interrupted her. + +"Who shot me?" he asked. + +"Guy Ellington," she said. "The shot ricocheted off a rock and hit you. +It was not his fault." + +"By Gad, poor devil!" said Evelyn. + +"Yes, dear; I wrote to him just now, saying just that, how sorry I was +for him and how sorry you would be when you knew. You--you were shot +very badly, dear Evelyn. You were shot in the eyes, in both eyes----" + +Again there was silence. Then he spoke hoarsely: + +"Do you mean that, all that?" he said. + +"Yes, dear; all that. And I had better say it. You are blind, Evelyn." + +Then deep down from the very heart of her came the next words which +spoke themselves. + +"I wish I could have died instead," she said. + +He lay long absolutely motionless; there was no quiver of any kind on +the corners of his mouth to show that he even understood. But she knew +he understood, it was because he understood that he lay like that. + +At last he spoke again, and the sorrow and anguish in his voice was +still comfort to her beyond all price. + +"So I shall never see you again," he said. + +Then she bent over the bed, and kissed him on the mouth. + +"But never have I been so utterly yours as I am now!" she said, her +voice still strong and unwavering. "And, oh, how it fed my heart to know +what your first thought was, my darling. I think it would have broken if +it had been anything else!" + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +TWENTY-FIRST + + +After dinner that night, before she went to bed, Madge looked into +Evelyn's room several times and spoke to him gently. But on all these +occasions he was lying quite still and he did not answer her; so, +thinking he was asleep, she eventually retired to her own room just +opposite, and went to bed. For the last two nights she had scarcely +closed her eyes, but now, with the intense relief of knowing that Evelyn +knew, of feeling, too, that he was bearing it with such wonderful +quietness and composure, she fell asleep at once and slept long and +well. + +But her husband had not been asleep any of those times that she went +into the room. He had never felt more awake in his life. But he had not +answered her, because he had felt that he must be alone: just now +nobody, not even she, could come near to him, for he had to go into the +secret place of his soul, where only he himself might come. And as at +the moment of death not even a man's nearest and dearest, she with whom +he has been one flesh, may take a single step with the soul on its +passage, but it has to go absolutely alone, so now none could go with +Evelyn; for in these hours he had to die to practically all, Madge alone +excepted, which the word "life" connoted to him. And having done that, +he had to begin, to start living again. There Madge could help him, but +for this death, this realisation of what had happened, this summing up +of all that had been cut off, he had to be alone. + +There was no comfort for him anywhere: nor at any future time could +comfort come. There would be no "getting used" to it, every moment, +every hour, that passed would but put another spadeful of earth on his +coffin. There was no more night and morning for him. Sunset and sunrise +spilt like crimson flames along the sky existed no more: the green light +below forest trees was dead, the clusters of purple clematis in his +unfinished picture had grown black, there was neither green nor red nor +any colour left, it was all black. The forms of everything had gone, +too; it was as if the world had been some exquisite piece of modelling +clay, and that some gigantic hand had closed on it, reducing it to a +shapeless lump: neither shape nor colour existed any more. People had +gone, too, faces and eyes and limbs, the gentle swelling of a woman's +breast, outline and profile and the warm, radiant tint of youth were +gone, there was nothing left except voices. And voices without the sight +of the mouth that spoke, of the shades of expression playing over the +face, would be without significance: they would be dim and meaningless, +they would not reach him in this desert of utter loneliness, where he +would dwell forever out of sight of everything. And that was not all; +that was not half. Of the world there was nothing left but voices, and +of him what was left? Was he only a voice, too? + +He was blind, that is to say, his eyes must have been practically +destroyed. And the bandages extended, so he could feel, right up to his +hair, and down to his upper lip. There were other injuries as well, +then. What were they? How complete was the wreck? Above all, did Madge +know, had she seen? If ever love had vibrated in a voice, it had in +her's, but did she know, or had she only seen these bandages? + +With his frightfully sensitive artistic nature, this seemed to cut +deeper than anything, this thought that he was disfigured; horrible to +look on, an offence to the eye of day and to the light of the sun, +and--to the sight of her he loved. He would be pitied, too; and even as +man and woman turned away from the sight of him they would be sorry for +him, and the thought of pity was like a file on his flesh. Would it not +have been better if the shot had gone a little deeper yet? His maimed, +disfigured body would then have been decently hidden away and covered by +the kind, cool earth, he would not have to walk the earth to be stared +at--to be turned from. + +His nurse not long before had made her last visit for the night, and, +seeing him lying so still supposed, like Madge, that he was asleep, and +had gone back to the dressing-room next door, to go to bed herself. His +progress during the day had been most satisfactory, the feverishness had +almost gone, and the doctor, when the wounds were dressed that +afternoon, had been amazed to see how rapidly and well the processes of +healing were going on. Certainly there was no lack of vitality or +recuperative power in his patient, nor in the keenness and utter despair +of his mental suffering was vitality absent. That same vitality coloured +and suffused that; he saw it all with the hideous vividness of an +imaginative nature. Doubt and uncertainty, however, here were worse than +the worst that the truth could hold for him, and he called to the nurse, +who came at once. + +"What is it, Mr. Dundas?" she asked. "I hoped you were asleep. You are +not in pain?" + +"No, not in pain. But I can't sleep. I want to ask you two or three +questions. Pray answer them: I sha'n't sleep till you do." + +She did not speak, half-guessing what was coming. + +"I want to know this, first of all," he said, speaking quite quietly. +"What shall I look like when these things are healed, when the bandages +come off?" + +Nurse James was essentially a truthful woman, but she did not hesitate +about her reply. There are times when no decent person would hesitate +about telling a lie, the bigger the better. She laughed. + +"Well, I never!" she said. "And have you brought me from my bed just to +ask that! I never heard such a thing. Why, you will look as you always +have looked, Mr. Dundas, but your eyelids will be shut." + +The good, kind woman suddenly felt that the ease with which all this +came to her was almost appalling. She was a glorious liar, and had never +known it till now. + +"Why, bless you," she went on, "your wife was in here when your face was +dressed to-day, and--you were still under morphia, you know, and did not +know she was there--and she said to Dr. Inglis: 'Why, he only looks as +if he was asleep.'" + +"She has seen me, then?" asked Evelyn eagerly. "She has seen my face?" + +"Why, of course, and she bent and kissed it, just as your wife should +do. There's a brave woman now. Is that all, sir?" + +Evelyn gave one great sigh of relief. + +"Yes, nurse," he said. "I am sorry I disturbed you. Yet I assure you it +was worth while. I can't tell you how you have relieved me. I +thought--oh, my God! it is not hell after all." + +She arranged the bedclothes about him, and though she had been so glib, +she could not now speak at once. + +"There, then; you'll go to sleep, won't you, now you know that," she +said. "But to think of you worrying here all these hours!" + +Madge was, of course, told by Nurse James what happened before she saw +Evelyn again, for that diplomatist came to her room very early next +morning, and informed her of it all. She acquiesced in it, as she would +have acquiesced in anything that in the opinion of nurse or doctor +conduced to his recovery, and for the next day or two his progress was +speedy and uninterrupted. He had faced the first shock, that he was +blind, with a courage that was really heroic, and except for that hour +when he held himself in front of it, purposing and meaning to realise +once and for all exactly what it implied, he exercised wonderful +self-control in not letting himself brood over it. This was the easier +because that second fear, the roots of which went so much deeper than +the other, had proved to be groundless. Terrible as was his plight, the +knowledge that it might have been so much more terrible was ever in his +mind, casting its light into the places that he had thought were of an +impenetrable darkness. + +But in this balance and adjustment of the human soul to the anguish with +which circumstance and fate visit it, the mechanism of its infliction is +wonderfully contrived, so that it shall not snap under the strain. The +Angel of Pain, we must suppose, sits by, with the screws and levers of +the rack under its control; it loosens one, as Evelyn's dread about +disfigurement had been loosened for the present at any rate, since it +was, perhaps, more than he could stand (and the Angel of Pain, with the +relentless hands but the tender eye and pitying mouth, had not finished +with him yet) but it tightens another; the fact of his blindness had +been screwed down very tight. Then as the racked sinews and tortured +nerves began to writhe and agonise less, another little torture was +added. It was but a small thing compared to the others, and though it +had been there all the time, neither Madge nor he had noticed it at +first. But now when he was weary with pain, it was like a fly that kept +buzzing and settling on his face, while his hands were bound, so that +he could not brush it off. It had seemed but fear of the imagination at +first, but gradually to both of them, as he recovered so well, and the +future as well as the present began to make itself felt again, it became +terribly real. It was simply this: What was to happen to them? How among +other things were their doctor's and nurse's bills to be paid? And how, +after that, were they going to live? + +For several days each suffered the buzzing, flittings and alightings of +this without speaking of it to the other, since each believed that the +other had not yet thought of it. But one afternoon they had been talking +of that hot August month in London, with their childish tales of +Ellesdee, and the curious fact that if you only make a game out of a +privation, the privation ceases and the game becomes entrancingly real. +Evelyn had laughed over this. + +"We shall have heaps of games in the future," he had said unthinkingly, +and stopped rather abruptly. In the silence that followed he heard Madge +just stir in her chair; an assent had dropped from her lips, but she had +said no more, and it was clear to them both that their thoughts had met. +Then Evelyn spoke. + +"Madge, has it ever occurred to you what we are going to do?" he said. +"How we are going to live, I mean?" + +"Yes, dear, I have thought about it a good deal. I didn't speak of it, +since I hoped you wouldn't begin to think about it yet." + +"There were forty-three pounds?" he said; "from which you have to +subtract our railway fares." + +"Yes, dear," she said almost inaudibly. + +The Angel of Pain turned that screw a little more. They could bear a +little more of that. + +"There is an unfinished portrait of Lady Taverner," said he. "There is +the finished portrait of you. But even if we sold those, what next, what +afterwards?" + +"Ah, there is no necessity to think about it," said Madge quickly. "Of +course mother will help us. She will do what she can. And Guy Ellington, +of course----" + +"We shall have to live on their alms, you mean?" said he with a sudden +dreadful bitterness. "On the pity of others? They can't do it, besides. +They can't support us. And even if they could, how could we accept it?" + +His hand, with the rapid, hovering movement so characteristic of the +blind, felt over the bedclothes and found hers. He was acquiring this +blind touch with extraordinary rapidity. + +"Madge, do you hate me for having married you?" he asked. "Would it have +been better for you if we had never seen each other? Here are you, +tied--eternally tied--to a beggar and a cripple, half a man with half a +face!" + +For one moment she winced at the thought of that which she did not yet +know. Supposing it was very terrible, supposing she cried out at it? But +she recovered herself at once. + +"I bless God every day for your love, dear," she said. + +He was silent after this a little, his fingers playing over hers. + +"I am getting blind man's hands already," he said. "I can feel which +your rings are. There, that is the wedding-ring, that is easy, and the +one with sapphires in it. No, it can't be that, there are four stones in +this, and there are only three sapphires. Ah, that is the ruby ring; do +you remember how you scolded me for giving it you? Then on the next +finger one pearl: that is easy. Then the first finger, no rings there, +but--yes, at that knuckle the little scar that runs up halfway to the +next knuckle, where you cut your finger to the bone when you were a girl +over the broken glass." + +Madge felt herself suddenly turn white and cold. He had felt the little +scar on her finger with absolute accuracy, tracing it from where it +started to where it finished. And if he could do this with so little a +scar, what of other scars that would be within reach of his hands +always? He would find them out, too; he would guess; all their attempts +at concealment from him of what his injuries really were would be +futile. He must come to know. + +But he was busy just now on the exploration of his powers of touch. It +was a new game; already touch was beginning to be a new thing to him, +and whereas he had regarded his hands hitherto as holders to grasp other +things, prehensile endings to the arms merely, he was now beginning to +find out new powers in the soft-tipped fingers. He was like a child +which has hitherto regarded its legs merely as agreeable though silent +play-fellows, who begins to see that a hitherto undreamed-of power of +locomotion resides in them. + +This was fascinating to Evelyn; for the moment there was a sudden hope +springing up. It was like a message of relief coming to a beleagured +garrison. + +"Why, if I can do this already," he said, "who knows what it may not +grow to? Madge, I am sure I could not have felt so much before--before +it happened. Quick, give me something, and I will tell you what it is. +What if the form and the shape of things has not been annihilated for +me?" + +And so this game, for so it was, began to interest him. For him, since +some measure of the excitement, the chance, the experimentalism of life, +had begun to come back, the Angel of Pain relaxed the screws a little, +yet her hands did not altogether leave them. But poor Madge! The Angel +of the relentless hands and tender face looked gravely on her. She had +to bear very much, and bear it with a smiling face and cheerful voice, +fetching books for Evelyn to identify, and small objects from his +dressing-case and what-not. The screws were turned rather smartly for +her; it was inevitable that he should before very long identify his own +face, identify the damage there. She herself had not done so yet, but +awfully as she had feared that for herself, she now feared it more for +him. He was building so much, she knew that, on a place where no +foundation was possible. It would all sink into the mire and clay. He +would learn, as she would have to learn, how dreadful that was: his +sensitive, hovering fingers with their light touch and constructive +imagination would build up and realise by degrees. He would know that +the worst fear of all was fulfilled. + +That view of his, which Madge knew so well he would take when he +learned, one way or another, of the wreck that had come to his face, +might or might not be a shallow view, but that view he would assuredly +take, and construe her love for him into mere pity and forbearance. She +did not love him for his face--he would not say that--but his face was +part of him, and if that was spoiled, so surely was part of her love +spoiled. Body and soul she had loved him, but how could a woman love a +sightless, scarred thing? He would grant, no doubt, that her love for +him went further than that which was now hideous, but would she, to put +it from her own point of view, have scarred and hacked and blinded her +own face, and gone back to him who saw, in perfect confidence that his +love for her would be undiminished and undeterred, knowing that it lay +too deep for any such superficial maiming to injure? She knew well she +would not, for love, however spiritual, includes the body as well as the +spirit, and however fine, cannot but take the body as the outward and +visible sign of the beloved soul, its expression and aura. And how could +he to whom the surface of beauty and loveliness had been by profession +such a study and worship, still think, whatever her asseverations to the +contrary, that her love for him was as complete as it had been? And, to +get nearer the truth, would not he be right? She did not know about that +yet; she had not seen. At present she could not think of his face as +other than it had been; all she knew was that, in spite of herself, she +dreaded with her whole soul the removal of those bandages. What if she +shrank and winced at the sight? Those slim, delicate fingers of the +Angel of Pain tightened the screw, and the kind eyes looked at her, +seeing how she bore it. If there was a terrible moment coming for Evelyn +when his fingers, which were now to be to him his eyes, told him what he +looked like, there was a moment, a double moment, coming for her. She +had first to control herself, to make him believe, whatever she saw, +that she saw no difference; nothing that made her love one jot less +urgent and insistent; she had also, with a feigned conviction that had +got to convince him, to assure him that his fingers were at fault, that +there was no scar where he said there was a scar, that there was no +empty hole.... That she knew. What she did not know was how to face it +all. + +At present, anyhow, by a great effort, she put off the moment which she +foresaw must come. He could not remain indefinitely ignorant, his own +hands must some day inform him. But just now he was eager and interested +in this new game. By a splendid effort of vitality and will, he had +pushed into the background the fact of his blindness: he had put it for +the time being, anyhow, among the inevitable and accepted facts of life, +while he had filled his foreground with the fact that he had eyes in his +fingers. How glorious that bit of bravery was she knew well, for he was +so brave that just now he was not even acting; he genuinely looked +forward to the future, not without hope. At her bidding he had left the +grinding difficulties of the future alone, he had left the question of +the stark fact as to how they were to live, he had left also the fact of +his own supreme deprivation, and with a splendid effort he looked on the +possibilities that might lie in front of them, not on the limitations, +cramping and binding, that certainly lay there. + +"Yes, all those things are easy," he said; "of course I can tell a +toothpick and a sovereign-case, that is a mere effort of memory. But +let's go on, if you are not tired of it. You see, dear, you've got to +educate me now; I am just a child again, learning a new set of letters. +Now give me really new letters." + +Now Lady Dover a day before, in her quiet way, had telegraphed to London +for a couple of packs of blind cards. They had the index in raised +cardboard in the corner, and had arrived this morning. She had put them +in the dressing-room adjoining his bedroom, and had just mentioned it to +Madge, in the way that, had she been a stranger in the house, she might +have mentioned where the bath-room was. + +"Mr. Dundas is so eager and alive," she had said, "that I thought, dear +Madge, that he might like to begin any moment to accustom himself a +little, poor fellow, to his new circumstances. So you will find a couple +of packs of raised cards, I think they call them, in the dressing-room. +I thought he might perhaps feel inclined to experiment with them." + +So Madge fetched them now, and a couple of minutes afterwards she and +Evelyn were deep in a game of picquet. His childish pleasure in "new +things" stood him in good stead now; he got as excited as a schoolboy +over the riddle of what his hand contained. Again and again he fingered +the raised index in the corner, with sudden bursts of triumph when he +solved it to his own satisfaction. + +"Ah, I used to call you slow at picquet, Madge," he cried, "but you +can't retaliate. How very good for you! If you call me slow, I shall +merely throw the cards away and burst into tears. Seven or nine, which +on earth is it? Don't look and tell me. I trust you not to look." + +But he soon got tired, and it is doubtful whether Madge was not more +tired than he. When he waited long, feeling with those thin finger tips +at the index, it was bad enough for her; but it was worse when he felt +the card right almost immediately, and almost laughed with pleasure at +his newly-acquired quickness--he, who used to be so quick! And all the +time the certainty of the moment that was coming when he should learn +all that had happened darkened her with an amazement of pity. What would +he feel when he knew that? And what would she feel? And how, if that +was very bad, would she have power to conceal it, so that he should +believe, so that she could force him to believe that it was not there? + +Two mornings after Madge slept on very late; but before she came down +she had been in to see Evelyn, and subsequently had a talk to the nurse, +who told her that Dr. Inglis had already seen her husband, and that he +intended to take the bandages off his eyes that day. The wounds had +healed in a manner almost marvellous, and they would now be the better +for the air and light. And though Madge as she went downstairs felt that +only thankfulness ought to be in her heart, she felt that she carried +some sort of death-warrant in her pocket. + +The post had just come in, and as she entered the breakfast-room, from +which Lord Dover had already gone, but where his wife still waited for +Madge, ready to make fresh tea on her entry, she found a letter by her +plate directed in a handwriting that was very familiar to her. She +wanted to open it at once, but instead she pushed it aside. + +"What a glorious morning, dear Madge," said Lady Dover. "Dr. Inglis has +already made me his morning report. He has no further anxiety, I think, +at all. I am so glad." + +She herself had a pile of letters, of which she had opened only about +half, but abandoned them entirely to talk to Madge, and make her tea. +But the sight of all those letters, somehow, diverted Madge's attention +from her own, and a sudden thought struck her, which was new. + +"Lady Dover," she said abruptly, "I believe you have been putting all +manner of visitors off because of poor Evelyn." + +Lady Dover looked up in gentle, clear-eyed acquiescence. + +"Why, my dear, it was most important he should be quite quiet," she +said. + +Madge arrested the hand that was pouring out her tea. + +"Ah, you dear," she said, "and all these days I never thought of it, or +thanked you." + +The spout of the teapot poured a clear amber stream on to the +table-cloth. + +"And I have spilt the tea, too," said Madge. "But I do thank you, +and--and I am frightened!" + +"There is nothing wrong?" + +"No; but they are going to take the bandages off, and what shall I see? +Will you be there, too, and help me not to mind if it is dreadful? You +see--you see, I suppose I loved his face as well, why not, and if all +that is terribly changed.... They have told me it will be. And he must +not guess that I mind, that I even see it is different. And when his +hands tell him what has happened, as they will, I must still convince +him somehow that to me there is no difference. Oh, I want help!" she +cried. "Indeed it is not only for me, I want it for him--I must convince +him that it does not matter." + +But at this point Lady Dover failed a little. She was not, in spite of +her obvious kindness and sympathy, quite human enough to go to the +depths that Madge's gropings reached blind hands to. The trials and +difficulties that came within her ken, the loss of someone loved, the +parching of love in what had been a fountain, she could have understood, +but the fear of a maimed face affecting love she could not quite grasp. +Her idea of love may perhaps have been spiritually finer, it may also +perhaps have not been adequately human. + +There was a pause, anyhow, and since nothing but immediate and +spontaneous reply was conceivable from Madge's point of view, she took +up her letter again. + +"This, too," she said, "it is from Philip." + +But to that Lady Dover responded instantly. + +"Then, dear, you will want to read it alone," she said. "And if you can +tell me about it afterwards, and if I can be of any use, advising or +suggesting, you will come to me, will you not? But, dear Madge, he would +not write unless he had something very particular to say, and, +personally, whenever I see a letter that may be very private, I always +keep it till I am alone. So let me leave you alone, dear. I see they +have brought in a fresh hot dish for you of some sort, and I have just +made the tea. I shall be in my room." + +Here again tact played a great part; she did not look at Madge, either +inviting or repelling confidence. And without the least suspicion of +hurry or of lingering she left the room, with her pile of letters, +opened and unopened. + +Madge waited a minute or two. Then with a sudden mechanical series of +movements, she tore open the envelope, took out Philip's letter, and +read it. It was dated from Pangbourne. + +MY DEAREST MADGE. + + I have every right to say that, and you must not mind. I heard only + last night of the terrible thing that has happened to Evelyn, and + unless I am stopped by a telegram from you or Lady Dover I shall + come up to Glen Callan at once to see if I can be of any use. You + will want somebody, anyhow, to look after you both when you move. I + write to Lady Dover by the same post; she will receive my letter at + the time you receive this. She will not mind my proposing + myself--in fact she has asked me to before now. + + I have just come here from the New Forest: you will not have heard + what has happened. Tom Merivale is dead, the Hermit, you know. I + will tell you about it all when we meet; now I can only say that + the sorrows of the world were, I believe, suddenly revealed to him, + and he died of it. And some of the sorrows of the world, you poor + dear, have been revealed to Evelyn and you, and perhaps to me. Only + we have got to live and not die. + + And before we meet I want very sincerely and humbly to ask your + pardon for all the hard things I have thought and said and done. + Please try to grant it me before you see me, so that I know that it + is implied in your handshake. + + So unless you stop me you will see me on the evening of the day on + which you get this, and before then I want you to grant me a + further favour. You must accept, please, tacitly and without any + word on the subject, just the little material assistance that I can + give you and him. In other words, do not let any material anxiety + increase or aggravate what you two _have_ to endure, and which no + one can help you about. Only where you can be helped, accept such + help, and let the privilege of helping you be mine. In doing this + you will be helping me more than I can say: you will be helping me + to learn the lesson of the sorrows of the world, which, as I now + know, we must all learn. And I am,--Your loving friend, + +PHILIP HOME. + + P.S.--I express myself badly; but I think you can easily understand + what I mean. Just read my letter straightforwardly, I mean all I + have said, and I think I have said all I mean. How fully my mother + endorses it all, I need not tell you. She says (she has just read + it) that it is too business-like. Well, I'm a business man, but her + criticism encourages me to think that it is clear. + +Madge read this through once without comprehension: the predominant +feeling in her mind was that it was some kind stranger who was writing +to her; she did not know the man. Yet even as she read there were things +very familiar to her: Philip somehow was in it all. Then at the second +reading the simplicity and clearness of it--that which Mrs. Home had +called business-like--made itself felt, and it was Philip, after all, +the potential Philip. But some immense change had happened, yet immense +though it was, she saw now it was no stranger who had written it, but he +himself, only--only he had learned something, as he said. + +But how his begging for her forgiveness cut her to the heart! That he +should do this, while it was she whose part it was, only she had not +been woman enough. She had been sorry--God knows she had been sorry for +him, and sorry for her own part in the catastrophe of July. But she had +known it was inevitable, she could not have married him, she could not +have done otherwise than marry Evelyn, and it was perhaps this sense +that she was but a tool in the hands of the irresistible law which had +excused her to herself, so that she had said almost that it was the +Power that made them all three what they were that had done this. And +thus her human pity and sorrow had been veiled. But now that veil was +plucked aside; whatever great and inexorable laws ruled feeling and +action, nothing could alter the fact that here was she, unhappy and sick +at heart, and that another man, who loved her, unhappy, too, was man +enough to forget his own unhappiness, to forget, too, that it was she +who, willing or unwilling, had brought it on him, and let himself be +guided only by the divine and human impulse of Pity, so that he desired +nothing in the world more than to be allowed to help her. + +Yet how bitter it was, somehow, that it should be he of all men in the +world who should offer to help. And his offer was so humble, yet so +assured, it was made so simply, and yet--here was Philip's hand +again--so authoritatively. "You will want someone with you to look after +you...." That was Philip, too, and though it was all bitter, what +unspeakable comfort it was to feel that somebody strong and tender was +waiting to take care of them, only asking to be allowed to take care of +them. In spite of Lady Dover and all her kindness, Madge felt so +lonely: no one could understand that so well as Philip, who had felt +lonely, too. + +And Tom Merivale was dead! Ah, what was happening to the world? Was +happiness being slowly withdrawn from it, leaving misery only there? It +seemed indeed as if sorrow, like some dreadful initiation, had to be +submitted to by everyone, even those who appeared to have been born in +the royal purple of happiness. How much had come into her own immediate +circle in so short a time! To Merivale it had come in so blinding and +overwhelming a flood that it had killed him who had radiated happiness. +To Evelyn, it had come, blinding, also, and that cruel stroke, more +cruel because it was so illogical, like the blasting of the tree by +lightning down in the Forest, had stricken her, too, and had not perhaps +dealt its worst blow yet. It had come to Philip through her in a way +perhaps not less illogical. For it was not in her to control love or not +to love; her meeting with Evelyn, her loving him, was as much an +accident as the descent of the lightning-flash or the scattering of the +lead pellets. Yet Philip had not died, and though he might have said +that his life was wrecked, that all that remained for him was hatred and +despair, he had struggled to shore, he stood there now strong and +unembittered, and held out his hands to her. He had learned something it +seemed from these accidents. He had learned, perhaps, not to call them +accidents. Was he right? Were these vague lines part of a pattern, of a +design so huge that she could not yet see it was a design at all? + +Madge had forgotten about her breakfast; it lay still untasted, while +she mused with wide eyes. And as this struck her, she stood up and +pushed her plate from her. Greatly as she had grown in human strength +and tenderness, since that day so few weeks ago, when she had promised +to marry Philip, she felt now suddenly like a little child, who wanted +to be led. There were dark places, she knew, before her. She must try +not to be frightened, she must realise that there was nothing to be +frightened about. And thus, feebly, hesitatingly, she put out her hand. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +TWENTY-SECOND + + +Evelyn woke that morning out of one of those cruel, dreamless sleeps +that seem for a little while on waking to have expunged all memory, and +he lay a few minutes conscious vaguely of something a little wrong, but +for the moment not knowing where he was, and not caring to make the +effort to guess. Then suddenly, like the stroke of a black wing across +the sky, memory came home for the day. Whenever he woke in the hereafter +he would awake to that, to his maimed, ruined life. The knowledge of it +was more unbearable to-day than it had been yesterday; to-morrow it +would be worse; it would keep growing worse. + +Then out of that utter darkness there grew a little light. It might have +been even more desperate--how was that? Then he remembered Madge. She +had seen, and the worst of all that he had imagined was not true. + +This morning he felt within himself a sudden accession of strength; his +long sleep-acting with his extraordinary recuperative powers, had set +fresh tides of vitality on the flow. Something had happened lately which +in spite of all, interested him--ah, yes, the gradual compensating +sensitiveness in his hands. He had played a whole _partie_ of picquet +with Madge, using those cards with raised indexes. The _partie_ had only +taken an hour--not bad for a beginning; to-day perhaps he would be a +little quicker. To-day also these bandages that worried him with their +close-clinging, sticky feeling would be removed, and with regard to them +he could not help half-thinking that when they were gone, some light, +however dim, must reach him. Surely the blackness would become a sort of +grey. It was unreasonable, he knew well, but he could not help feeling +that it must be so. But the fact that he thought about the picquet he +had played and the greater celerity with which he was going to play it, +even the idea, which he himself knew to be purely imaginary, that he +would not feel so terribly alone and in the dark when these bandages +were removed, all pointed one way: he looked, or tried to look, forward +instead of brooding backwards. And in such matters, as indeed in all +others, the will is the deed, provided only that the will be undivided. +So for the time the utter blackness of his waking moments was gone, the +tiny things of life, as well as life's ultimate possibilities, still +retained their interest, and while he waited for his breakfast, he kept +feeling with his nimble, hovering hands at all objects within reach: the +woolliness of the blankets, the cool texture of the sheets, a certain +slipperiness of counterpane, which eventually he determined to be +silk-covered. Then there was wall-paper above his head; there was a +pattern on that, and with both hands he traced his way up the slight +raising of the design, stopping often, visualising to himself what the +picture of the course of his fingers would be like.... There was a spray +of some sort; it branched to the left and ended in narrow, slender +leaves. On the right it went higher before it branched; there were +leaves there, too, and above again there started a stem like the one he +had traced a minute before. Yes; it repeated here, for first to the left +went out a thinner stem with narrow leaves; then again to the right it +branched, and narrow leaves forked out from it. He had seen it, of +course, before, on the evening he arrived here, but he could not +remember it from that.... Thin stem and narrow leaves--ah, a Morris +paper of willow twigs! But the feeling fingers had given it him; without +this exploration he could not have known it. + +This was an enormous advance, and, without pause, for he instinctively +knew the step that came through the dressing-room adjoining, he called +out: + +"Oh, Madge, such a discovery!" he cried. "Blanket here, sheet here, a +coverlet with silk on the top, and the paper--it is a Morris willow +paper. I found that out. And I want breakfast." + +Yet somehow Madge's heart sank at his elation. The Evelyn who spoke was +the old Evelyn: it was in such a voice and with such joy of discovery +that he had told her at Pangbourne how the purple of the clematis would +heighten the value of the pink and butter-haired Jewess who sat in the +centre. There was just the same triumphant ring about it. And as such +it was unnatural; she feared he was recovering too quickly: for this +elation there would be a corresponding depression. It was too sudden to +satisfy her. All this was instantaneous and instinctive; she feared +really without knowing she feared. But she had come prepared for the +further development of his newly-awakened interest in the senses that +resided in fingers, and had brought with her some small objects of +baffling shape. She had, too, in her hand Philip's letter. + +The first two or three were easy to him. A knife certainly, but a knife +with no edge to it. And of this he talked. + +"Dessert knife," he said. "No, not dessert knife, because the blade of a +dessert knife would, anyhow, be as cold as the handle, even if both were +made of metal. And the blade of this is warmer than the handle. Oh, +shade of Sherlock Holmes! Cold handle, warmer blade. Oh, Madge, how +easy. Paper-knife of course; silver handle, ivory cutter. Ask another." + +"I haven't asked how you are yet," said she. + +"Quite well. And I want breakfast. I say, Madge, do you know just for +the moment, I don't mind being blind. You see there's a new sense to +cultivate. I always love experiments. Ah, damn it, there's no colour +left. But there is shape; somehow, I feel there's a lot to learn in +shape. There's warmth, too; of course I knew that ivory was warmer--less +cold than metal, but now I have found it true without help. Give me +another." + +This time it was an absurd Dutch cow, spindle-legged and huge of body +and head, a cream-jug cow, into which the cream was put via an aperture +in the back, on which sat a gigantic fly, and from which, _via_ the +mouth, it was conveyed to tart. This was puzzling, and he thought aloud +over it. + +"Four legs," he said, "as thin as a stag's. So where's the head? That +won't do; horn each side, and--good Lord! what's this on the middle of +the back? It's movable, too. Shall I break anything?" + +"Not if you are not violent." + +"Well, a big head with a switch-horn, and a mouth, why it's from ear to +ear. And a lid on the abortion's back. Tail--is it a tail; oh, yes, it +must be, it comes from there--curled up till it nearly reaches the hole +in the back." + +He paused a moment, feeling it with nimble fingers, and though Madge +could not see his forehead, she knew from his mouth that he was +frowning. Then it came to him. + +"Dutch cow," he cried. "There's an insect, a fly, I should think, +sitting on the hole at its back, where you put the cream in. And it +comes out of its mouth, you know. Looks rather as if it was being sick." + +Madge's letter slipped to the ground as she applauded this. + +"Give me that letter," he said. "I'll tell you whom it is from. Oh, +there's nurse; is it breakfast? I am so hungry. I'll tell you about the +letter afterwards." + +Then for a moment he was silent, and his mouth grew grave. He had +insisted late the evening before on being shaved, and the smooth chin, +the smooth upper lip, were clean below the white bandages. The nurse had +been confederate to this. + +"You see, the bandages are coming off to-morrow," he had said, "and +Madge would hate to see me with this awful stubble. Sometimes, nurse, I +usen't to shave before breakfast, and she always cut me--figuratively, +you know--till I did. You'll find a razor about somewhere. Clip it +first, please." + +So to-day he had cleanness of lip and chin, and now when the breakfast +was being brought in, Madge drew her thumb and fourth finger down from +his cheek to meet and pinch his chin. + +"You were afraid I should cut you," she said gently. + +"Yes, so I got shaved by nurse. Ah, Madge, sit on the bed, just there, +and see me have breakfast. Have you had yours, by-the-way?" + +Madge recalled the events of the morning. + +"I don't think I have," she said. + +"Then may we have another cup, nurse?" said he. "Oh, it's bacon, I can +smell bacon. Now, Madge, I'm boss of this show. You may think you were +going to feed me; not at all--I'm going to feed you. How elusive bacon +is. Are you sure the plate is there? Oh, I felt it, then." + +Here the nurse intervened, but with laughter. + +"Oh, Mr. Dundas, do lie quiet, and we will give you your breakfast. Yes, +another cup. I'll send for one. But your bed will be 'all over' bacon." + +Madge made a negative sign to her. + +"There, you've got a piece," she said. "Raise it slowly, you clumsy +boy! That's right; now wait. Your hand is really very steady. There!" + +And she slipped it off the fork into her mouth. + +"Oh, Madge," he cried, "how greedy! I thought I was going to get it. And +I can't manage everything. I'll give you bacon if you'll give me toast +and butter." + +So she buttered the toast, and they ate it like children, bite and bite +about, and Evelyn chivied bacon round the plate, and fed now himself and +now her. The extra cup lingered on its way, and one cup did for them, +and all this to Madge was a sort of rehearsal of what would be. And it +was a rehearsal of the best possible. For what if his gaiety, his +interest in this new game was but a last flare-up? He could not feel +this childish excitement in the entrancing sport of feeding each other, +always. Besides, even if he did, she herself did not know all yet. What +horror perhaps awaited her under the bandages of that swathed face? +Tender and womanly and loving as she was, she could not help wondering +as to that. She had put up her hand for guidance and leading; she wanted +nothing else. But she wanted to be led very strongly, very firmly. + +Then when breakfast was done, Evelyn went straight back to this +identification game. A match-box was easy, because of its rough sides, a +cigarette could not be a pencil, because of its smell. "And----" + +"Oh, the letter!" he said. + +"Dear, it's quite impossible," said Madge. "I'll tell you whom it is +from with pleasure; in fact I meant to talk to you about it. I brought +it up here for that purpose, to read it to you----" + +But he interrupted again, rather peevishly. + +"Ah, that's finished then," he said, dropping the envelope. + +"What nonsense; you can't guess," said she. + +"It's no question of guessing. You brought a letter in with you, and +didn't mention it. You knew I shouldn't--see. You were meaning to talk +about it afterwards. Well, it's either the Hermit or Philip. Besides, if +the Hermit wrote to you, you would have told me. No, it's Philip." + +This was no more than ordinary reason could have done. + +"What does he say?" asked Evelyn in a harsh, dry tone. "Does he say he +is very sorry, and it serves us right? That is the correct attitude, I +should think." + +Madge put a cigarette in his lips. + +"Won't you smoke?" she asked. + +"No, it doesn't taste. It's like smoking in a tunnel. About Philip now?" + +"He doesn't take the correct attitude," said she. "If he had, how could +I have wanted to talk to you about him? He wants to help us, Evelyn. And +he will arrive here to-night, unless we stop him on his way at Inverness +or Golspie." + +The corners of his mouth were compressed; she knew he was frowning. + +"Philip?" he said. "That isn't Philip." + +"It wasn't perhaps," said Madge, "but it is, I think. Things have +happened--Mr. Merivale is dead. Philip was there." + +"Dead?" he asked. + +"Yes; I only know about it from Philip. Oh, yes, you have guessed right. +I can only tell you what he said. Mr. Merivale died because--because +sorrow, pain were revealed to him. He died very suddenly--that I gather, +and he died terribly, somehow. I know no more than what I tell you." + +Evelyn was silent a little. + +"Yet he was the happiest man I ever saw," he said. "I used to feel like +a convict in chains beside him. What does it all mean? Have we all got +to suffer in proportion----" + +Again he broke off. + +"And Philip is coming here?" he asked. Then his voice got suddenly +shriller and more staccato. "I won't see him!" he cried. "He has come to +gloat over me. My God, is it not enough----" + +Madge laid her two hands on his chest, pressing him gently down again. + +"No, my darling," she said, "he will not come for that." + +"Well, then, to make love to you again," he cried. "He knows I am a +cripple, a blind man, a blot on the earth!" + +Madge gave a great sigh. + +"Ah, why say things you don't mean?" she said. "And why make those +dagger-thrusts at me, that cannot touch me? No, don't go on. Be silent, +dear, or else beg my pardon, and his. I am sorry I should have to ask +that, but you have said what is abominable! Oh, I don't want words. Just +nod your head, my darling, and that will mean it is said. But for the +sake of love, I must have that token." + +"Why does he come here, then?" he asked. + +Madge could not reply for the moment; she felt so sick at heart and +helpless. She had fancied, poor thing, that she had catalogued, so to +speak, all the troubles and difficulties which Evelyn had to face, which +she had to face with him, but here was a fresh one, that attitude of +suspicion which besets those who have a sense missing, and who imagine +that even those whom they love and trust most may be taking advantage of +their defect. Had he been able to see her face, the absolute frankness +of her expression, the candour of her eyes would have made it impossible +that the merest shadow of suspicion should have crossed his mind, that +peevish cry "he has come to gloat over me or to make love to you," could +not have crossed his lips, for there would have been no impulse in his +mind which could determine the words. Yet they had been spoken by him, +fretfully, irritably, all but causelessly. + +But cause there had been, and that cause was an instinct to ascribe the +worst motive to the action of others instead of assuming the best. That +was to be a foe to him more bitter and relentless than his +sightlessness; even that which his bandages concealed would not draw so +deeply on the healthful spring of kindly sanity which alone can carry a +man smiling and indulgent through the frets of the world. + +But for the present Madge restored his balance. + +"Oh, Evelyn," she said, "don't disappoint me, dear, or make yourself +bitter. You have been so brave and so splendid. Philip is coming +here--or proposes to come because--he is sorry for you, because in spite +of the injury we did him he still loves me--why not? But when you ask if +he is coming to make love to me, then, dear, you let something which is +not yourself speak for you. You utter counterfeit coin. It rings false. +Besides, you have not heard his letter yet; I will read it you. And then +you shall take back what you said, but did not mean to say." + +She read it through, every word. + +"And now, dear?" she said. + +But the corners of his mouth were tremulous, and that was enough; she +knew well why he could not speak. So she kissed him again, and no more +was said. + + * * * * * + +Lady Dover usually came up to see Evelyn after breakfast, and thus it +was quite natural that she should be there when Dr. Inglis made his +morning visit. She had already asked him whether she might be there when +the bandages were removed, and so, when he came in now, she said: + +"We are going to make quite a little festival of congratulation this +morning, Mr. Dundas--that is to say, if you and Dr. Inglis will allow me +to stop and see how wonderfully Sir Francis' surgery and Dr. Inglis' +doctoring have succeeded." + +So while this was going on, she and Madge sat in the window, looking out +on to the broad sunny day. The bracken on the hillsides was already +beginning to turn colour, and Lady Dover said in a low voice, for fear +Evelyn should hear, and be wounded, that the gold of the sunlight +striking the gold of the bracken made each appear more golden. There was +time, indeed, for a good deal of leisurely art-criticism of this nature, +for the unswathing of his face, the gentle withdrawal of the lint +dressings from the healed wounds took time, and more than once the nurse +went out to get more water for the sponging away of the gum of plaster. +For Dr. Inglis, kind man of silent sympathy as he was, knew well what +this moment must inevitably be to Madge--knew the torture of suspense in +which she must be awaiting the sight of her husband's face. Brave as he +well knew her to be, he knew also that she would have here to summon her +bravery to her aid; and he wanted to make it as easy for her as he +could, and thus took great pains to render the sight as little painful +as might be. But he could do so little; whatever sponging and smoothing +was possible, it still was so small a salvage. For the shot had struck +him sideways, ricocheting off the rock, and on his forehead there was a +long wound, healed indeed as well as it would ever be healed, but the +outer skin had been destroyed, and it showed a long, pink line, as if +perhaps some corrosive match had been struck on it. Another such went +across the right cheek, another had crossed the left eyebrow, leaving a +little hairless lane between the two severed sides of it. One eyelid had +been struck and torn before the pellet did its deadlier work, and the +other, though intact and drawn down over the hole of the eye-socket, was +not like the eyelid of a man whose eyes were closed in rest or sleep, +swelling gently over the eyeball and lying on the lower lashes; it hung +straight, like the blind of a window, for there was nothing beneath to +cause its curvature. + +His kind, twinkle-eyed Scotch face had grown grave over his operations, +but he guessed what the suspense to Madge was, and rightly decided that +nothing could be gained by lengthening it. Then he completed the shaving +operations which the nurse had begun the evening before to the uncovered +part of the face, and brushed into order his thick brown hair. Finally +he adjusted a pair of large dark spectacles. Evelyn demurred at this. + +"What is that for?" he asked. + +"Ah, that is necessary," said the doctor; "we have to protect the--the +place of the worst injury. You will always have to wear them, I am +afraid. And now I think we are ready." + +Madge got up from the window-seat. Though she had wished Lady Dover to +be there, at this moment she cared not one farthing who was there or who +was not. It was only she and Evelyn who mattered; Piccadilly might have +buzzed round them, and she would have been unconscious of the crowd. + +And she looked--she saw---- + +For one moment she stood there facing him, her breath suspended, only +conscious of some deep-seated terror and dismay, and her face grew +white. Once she tried to speak and could not, for she knew that some +dreadful exclamation alone could pass her lips. Lady Dover had got up, +too, and stood by her; she looked not at Evelyn at all, but at Madge, +and before the pause had grown appreciable she whispered to her-- + +"Say anything. Don't be a coward." + +It was therefore as well that Lady Dover had come with her, otherwise +anything might have happened, Madge might have screamed almost, or she +might have left the room without saying a word, so dreadful was the +shock. But Lady Dover's words were a lash to her, and the power of +making an effort came back. + +"Ah, dearest Evelyn," she said, "how nice to see your face again." + +For a moment the tremor in her voice, the imminent sob in her throat, +all but mastered her. Yet all this week he had been so brave, and for +very shame she could not but put on the semblance of bravery and try to +infuse her speech with a grain of courage. + +"It is good, it is good to see you," she said, and the first physical +horror began to fade a little as her love, that eternal, abiding +principle, slid out from under the paralysis of the other. "All those +bandages gone, all the plaster and lint gone. You look yourself, do you +know, too--just, just yourself." + +She turned an appealing eye on Lady Dover; that was unnecessary, because +she was quite prepared to speak as soon as Madge stopped. + +"I must congratulate you too, Mr. Dundas," she said in her neat, precise +tones. "Why, you look, as Madge said, quite natural; does he not, Madge? +And really I think dark spectacles are rather becoming. I shall get some +myself." + +Evelyn had not spoken yet; but reasonably or not, for he had been quite +unreasonably suspicious once before that morning, he thought he detected +some insincerity in these protestations. And with one quick movement of +his hand he took the spectacles off. + +"Are they really becoming?" he asked. "Or do you like me better without, +Madge?" + +Again she saw, and, with a movement uncontrollable, she hid her own eyes +for a moment. But Lady Dover again came to the rescue. + +"Ah, Doctor Inglis won't allow that, Mr. Dundas," she said. + +But Evelyn still held them away from his face. Brutal as it all was, the +thing had to be gone through once, and it was on the whole better to do +it now. + +"Ah, I asked Madge," he said quietly. + +As he spoke, with his other hand he let his fingers dwell with that firm +yet fluttering movement over his eyes. That straight, drawn-down lid was +visualised by him, that tear in the other eyelid was visualised also. +Then the hovering finger-tips traced the course of the pellet through +the eyebrow, and felt, like a dog nosing a hot scent, the course of the +scar where another had crossed his forehead. To that constructive touch +the truth was becoming hideously plain. And deliberately, as he felt and +traced, he set himself to believe the worst. He sat as judge to weigh +the evidence of his fingers as they bore witness to the state of this +wrecked face of his. Again and again, in days past, he had said, and +meant also, that he did not wish to go below the surface of things; the +eyebrow, the curve of the mouth, the light of the eye itself, as he had +said to the Hermit, were enough for him, there was symbol enough there. +And since this choice was so instinctive and natural to himself, it was +not possible to him to dissociate others from it, and as, with terrible +certainty, he framed to himself what he looked like, he put himself into +Madge's place, and seeing with her eyes, framed also the conclusion +which he believed to be inevitable. Yet she had seen him before, the +nurse had told him so, and after that he had heard with ears that +somehow seemed quickened in their sense even as touch was, the authentic +ring of love in her voice. Or had he been deceived in that? + +But thought, like the electric current through wires, travels many miles +in an interval that is not appreciably greater than that which it takes +to go a yard or two, and the rapid brushing of his fingers over his face +had been almost as speedy. So when Madge answered (her thought too had +gone far) he was not conscious that there had been a pause. She had +complete command of her voice now. + +"How can anybody be so silly?" she said. "I like you best without +spectacles, dear, but as you have to wear them, there's the end of it. +And"--she was embarked on a big lie, and did not mind--"you look so much +better than you did when I saw you a week ago when your face was being +dressed, that I should scarcely recognise you. At least I feel now as if +I should scarcely have recognised you then; now there is no need for +recognition. Put them on again, Evelyn; there is a strong light." + +She gave a little gasp at the end of this. Lady Dover heard it, and laid +a quick hand of sympathy on her shoulder. But Evelyn did not; for the +present he was convinced, and that conviction, like some burst of sudden +sound, shut out all other impressions. + +"Here we are, then," he said. "This is the new me; positively the first +appearance. A favourable reception was accorded by a sympathetic +audience. And now--are you still there, Dr. Inglis?--what manner of +reason is there that I should not get up?" + +"You want to?" he asked. + +"Why, certainly." + +"Then, there is an excellent reason why you should. When my patients +want to do a thing it is an indication, generally correct, that it is +good for them. Yes, get up by all means." + +Again the boyish delight in the new game took possession of Evelyn; yet +that delight, and the pity of it, stabbed Madge like a sword. + +"And let me do it myself," he cried. "Let my clothes be put by my bed, +let my bath be put there, and let me be left quite alone. Madge, I bet +you I shall be dressed in an hour. And the parting in my hair will be +straight," he added excitedly. + +This also was agreed to, with the provision that if he felt faint or +tired during these operations he was at once to desist, and lie down +again and ring his bell. The nurse busied herself with the preparations +for this great event, and the other three went out together. + +Dr. Inglis paused in the corridor outside the room. + +"Mrs. Dundas," he said, "you have got to keep that up, you know. You did +it well, and I don't think you ought to have done differently. Come, +come, we shall have you fainting next." + +Poor Madge had been utterly overwrought by this scene, and indeed as the +doctor spoke she swayed and staggered where she stood. But they got her +to a chair, in which she sat silent with closed eyes for a minute or so. +Then she looked up at him. + +"Shall I get used to it?" she asked. "Please tell me if there is a +reasonable chance of that?" + +"Certainly there is--we will come down in a minute, Lady Dover, if you +will go on--yes, certainly, there is much more than a chance. You will +get used to it. I did not know, by the way, that your husband had been +told you had seen him before; but that does not matter now. But it is +idle to pretend that you will get used to it at once. You won't, you +can't. You will have to be patient, and all the time you must keep the +strictest guard on yourself, to prevent the least suspicion getting to +his mind that you are shocked by his appearance. He knows, poor fellow, +more or less what he looks like. The curious blind sense of touch is +developing in him with extraordinary rapidity. But you convinced him +just now--his whole face flushed--that you don't mind. You must keep +that up, otherwise no one can say what may happen." + +"What do you mean?" asked she, still rather faintly. + +"Just that. His hold on life is strong enough, quite strong enough, but +it comes to him now mainly through one channel. That is you." + +The rather cruel abruptness of this was intentional and well calculated. +It did not dismay Madge, but just braced her. She got up from the chair. + +"That will be all right, then," she said. + +"I am sure it will. But as I shall go away to-day, I want to say a +little more to you. His recovery, his recuperative power, is excellent, +but there is one thing which I do not altogether like. His moods vary +with great rapidity and great intensity. No doubt that was always so to +some extent with him." + +"Yes," said Madge eagerly, "it is just that which is so like him. Surely +that is all for the good, that he should be so like himself?" + +"Yes, within limits. But, as I need not tell you, he has been through a +frightful shock, not only physical but mental, and quiet is the best +restorative of all. Keep him amused and interested in things as much as +you can; but also, as far as you can, keep him from feeling +extravagantly. His mental barometer is jumping up and down; in +proportion as it goes unnaturally high, so it will also go unnaturally +low. That is frightfully tiring; it is to the mind what fever, a +temperature that jumps about, is to the body." + +He paused a moment. + +"Of course I know the difficulties," he went on. "It is no use saying +'Be tranquil,' but you can certainly induce tranquility in him by being +tranquil yourself, by surrounding him with tranquility. Keep his spirits +level by keeping your own level. It won't be easy. Now, if you are quite +yourself again, shall we join Lady Dover?" + +Evelyn spent several hours that afternoon downstairs, but the excitement +of coming down for the first time tired him, and before Philip's arrival +he had gone up to bed again. All day, too, to Madge's great disquietude, +his spirits had been jumping up and down; at one time he would go on +with the identification game with the most absorbed enthusiasm; then +again, even in the middle of it, he would suddenly stop. + +"Oh, it's no use," he said. "Why, it takes me half an hour to find out +what is on that table, and it would take me a week to find out what the +room was like. Take me on to the terrace, will you, Madge, and let me +walk up and down a bit." + +This had been medically permitted, and with his arm in hers they +strolled up and down in the warm sunlight. Evelyn sniffed the fresh air +with extraordinary gusto. + +"Ah, that's good," he said; "it is warm, yet it has got the touch of +autumn in it. What sort of a day is it, Madge? Is it a blue day or a +yellow day? + +"Well, the sky is blue----" she began. + +"Yes, I didn't suppose it was yellow," said he. "But what's the rest? Is +the air between us and the hills yellow or blue? Oh, Lord, what would I +not give for one more sight of it! I would look so carefully just this +once. Tell me about it, dear." + +So Madge, as well as she could, tried to make him see with her eyes. She +told him of the brown, foam-flecked stream that wound and crawled in the +shadowed gully below them, of the steep hillside opposite, that climbed +out of the darkness into the broad, big sunlight of the afternoon, of +the feathery birch trees, just beginning to turn yellow, that fringed +the moor, of the bracken, a tone deeper in gold, of the warm greyness of +the bare hill above, with its corries lying in shadow, and its topmost +serrated outline cutting the sky with so clear and well-defined a line +that the sky itself looked as if it was _applique,_ fitted on to it. +Away to the left was a pine wood, almost black as contrasted with the +golden of the bracken, but the red trunks of the trees burned like +flames in it. Beyond that again lay the big purple stretches of heather +over which ran the riband of the road to Golspie. Then in the immediate +foreground there was a clump of rowan trees, covered with red berries; +they found but a precarious footing, so steeply did the ground plunge +towards the river; but halfway down there was a broad, almost level +plateau, across which flowed the burn. It was covered with grass and low +bushes, bog-myrtle, she thought, and a big flock of sheep were feeding +there. The shepherd had just sent the collie to fetch them up, and the +running dog was like a yellow streak across the green. + +Evelyn gave a great sigh. + +"Thanks, dear," he said. "Now shall we go in? Somehow, I don't think I +can stand any more just yet. I suppose one will get more used to it. Ah, +how unfair, how damnably unfair!" he cried suddenly. "Why should I be +robbed like this? I wish to God I had been born blind, so that I could +never know how much I miss. But to give me sight, to give me a glimpse +of the world, just to take it away again! How can that be just? And I +did like it so. It was all so pleasant!" + +Never before had Madge so felt the utter uselessness of words. How could +words be made to reach him? Yet how, again, could the yearning of her +whole soul to console and comfort him fail to reach him? What she said +she hardly knew; she was but conscious of the outpourings of herself in +pity and love. She held that poor blind head in her hands, she kissed +the mouth, she kissed the scars, she pushed up the dark spectacles and +kissed the dear, empty eyelids, and all the horror that had +involuntarily made her shudder when first she saw his face was gone, +melted, vanished. For it had been but a superficial thing, as little her +true self, as little to be taken as an index of what her heart felt, as +the sudden shudder of goose-flesh, and just now at any rate it was swept +away. That she would feel it again, often and often, she did not doubt, +but of that she took no heed whatever. This--this pity and love--which +had come upon her like a flash of revelation--was her true and her best +self, and though again and again she might fall back from it, her flesh +wincing and being afraid, yet there would be always the memory of this +moment to guide and direct her. There would be difficult times; the +whole of the rest of her life would be difficult, but it no longer +presented the appearance of impossibility. And how full and dear to her +heart was Evelyn's response. + +"Oh, Madge," he said, "the worst of all was the thought that you would +shrink from me. I minded that so much more than anything. I should not +have reproached you, I don't think I should have done that even to +myself, after guessing, as I have guessed, what I must be like, for I +should have understood. But what I don't understand is how it is you do +not shrink. I don't want to understand, either; it is quite enough for +me that it is so. And when I am cross, as I shall be, and despondent, as +I shall be, and odious, try to remember what I have said to you now. I +want to be remembered by that." + +So that was his best moment, too. + + * * * * * + +Philip arrived by the dinner train that night with a couple of other +guests, and when the rest of them went up at the usual early hour, to +get a good night after the journey of the day in the fresh air, he and +Madge lingered behind, for naturally he wanted to learn about Evelyn and +also about her. Both also perhaps felt that it was inevitable that they +should have one talk together; it could hardly have been otherwise. + +It began abruptly enough. As soon as the door was shut behind the last +of the outgoers she came towards him with hands outstretched. + +"I know you don't want me to say 'thank you,' Philip," she said, "but I +can't help it. I can't tell you how deeply I thank you." + +He held her hands for a moment, pressing them closely, and smiling at +her. + +"It is said, then. You mustn't say it twice, you know. That is vain +repetition, and we have so much to say to each other that we have no +time for that. I also must say once that I thank you for letting me do +what I can. It would have been easier for you to have refused my help +and to have refused to see me. Also it would have been more +conventional. Now, about that there is just one word more to be said, +and it is this. You told me once you looked upon me as an elder brother. +Well, you have got to do it again. I'm going to manage for you. You have +got, you and Evelyn, to do as I tell you in practical matters, because +I'm practical and you are not." + +A great lump rose in Madge's throat. These days had tired her so; it was +such an unutterable relief to have anything taken off her hands, to feel +that the almost intolerable weight of the future was being shared by +another. But for the moment she could not speak, and but just nodded to +him. + +"Now, I am the bearer of a message first of all," he said, "and the +message is from my mother. She wants you both--in fact, she insists on +your coming down to Pangbourne for--for a period which she says had +better be left indefinite. London, she truly says, is dust and ashes in +September. It really would be the best plan, so will you join with me in +persuading Evelyn, if persuasion is necessary?" + +"Ah, Philip," she said, "you cut me to the heart. And--and this makes it +worse, that I accept your generosity for Evelyn's sake. It is that +which--which is so ruthless." + +Philip's lip quivered a moment, but he went on bravely. + +"Well, as an elder brother I recommend it, too," he said; "for it is +just that I want to be to you, dear. Ah, do you think I don't guess?" + +Madge got up, and drew a chair close to him. + +"Tell me about yourself, if it does not hurt you to talk of that," she +said. + +"No, I want you to know what has happened to me," he said; "both because +I have to ask your forgiveness for certain things----" + +"Ah, don't, don't!" said she. + +"Yes, you will see, and because perhaps what I have been through may +help you. Well, Madge, I have been through deep waters, and waters as +bitter as they were deep. For that month while I was in London I hated +you and I hated him with such intensity that I think, but for the very +hard work I did, I must have gone mad. And I think the only pleasure I +felt was when I was the cause--indirectly anyhow--of his losing a large +sum of money. I could have saved him that if I chose, but I did not +choose. I must speak of that afterwards. But I loved you all the time I +hated you, Madge, if you can understand that. All that was base and hard +in me loathed you, because you had made me suffer; but there was +something below, a very little thing, like a lump of leaven perhaps +which still loved you, my infinitesimal better self. But all the time in +London I did not know there was in me anything better than this worst. + +"Then one morning I fainted, and they told me to ease off. So I went +down into the country and stayed with the Hermit, who, I think, lived +the happiest life that was ever lived on this earth. It was the contrast +between him and me perhaps that first suggested to me whether it was +worth while to hate, as I was hating, for that as far as I know was the +beginning of what happened afterwards. It made me also throw away +something I had bought in order to kill myself--never mind that. Then +one night he talked about pain, on which he had turned his back, and +told me that though he could not understand how or why it was necessary, +it perhaps might be, and that he was willing himself, if so, to face +anything that might be in store for him. And then, I must suppose that +little lump of leaven began to work, because that night--we had talked +also about free will--I asked myself if I chose, deliberately chose, to +be bitter and hating. And I found I did not. + +"It was not long after that--a week, I suppose--that the end came. By +then I knew but this for certain, that I was not deliberately hard any +longer. It was the contemplation of happiness and serenity that had +produced that; I had begun also not to stare at a blank wall that had +seemed to face me, but to say to myself that there was no wall except +that of my own making. Do you know Watts' picture of Hope? Of course you +do. Well, I thought all my strings were broken, but they were not. There +was just one left. But that I knew must inevitably break if I continued +to be black and bitter. My bitterness had corroded it already." + +Philip paused a moment. + +"I am jawing dreadfully about myself," he said. + +"Go on," said she. + +"Tom died in the night. I don't want to tell you that in detail, but he +died because he saw or thought he saw some revelation of the pain and +sorrow of the world. Whether he imagined it or not, and whether what I +thought I saw was imagination only, I don't really care. He was sleeping +in a hammock out of doors, and suddenly his cry rent the night. He +called on God and on Christ. And when I went out I thought I saw a +shadow like some dreadful goat skip from him. And he was dead. + +"Now, how one learns anything I don't know. But what I learned was pity +for sorrow. And so, dear Madge, I am here." + +Again her hand sought his. + +"Oh, Philip, Philip," she said. "What can I say to you? How could I +guess what love was till I felt it? Ah, I don't say that in excuse--you +know that." + +"No, dear. It is no question of excuses, of course. And I have only told +you all this that you may never need to look for any, and that you may +understand that I am sorry for having been so bitter. And if you forgive +that"--and the pressure of her hand answered him--"let us leave the past +forever behind us, and look forward only. But it was better to have +talked of it just once, so that we may dismiss it. Now, tell me about +Evelyn." + +To Philip somehow she could pour out her heart in a way she could +scarcely have done to anyone else, for the knowledge of what he had been +through and of the bitterness from which he had emerged so unembittered +threw open the golden gates of sympathy, and she spoke without reserve. +She told him of the myriad dangers and difficulties that faced them, of +the loss Evelyn had sustained which she could not yet estimate, which +he, too, was only just beginning to realise, and which for a long time +yet to come must daily grow more real to him. She spoke quite frankly, +yet never without the utter sinking of herself, which is love, of his +moods and transitions from boyish cheerfulness to a sort of dumb +despair. She spoke finally of her first mortal horror when she saw his +face, and her dread lest that should suddenly overmaster her, so that +she should shrink from him and he should see it. + +"But it is he," she said, "whom I tremble for. He can stand it to-day, +he will be able to stand it to-morrow, and for a week perhaps, or a +month. But will it get easier for him to bear or more difficult? He +can't stand much more. He will break." + +"Ah, you mustn't think about that," said Philip. "It is no use adding up +the sorrow and the pain that may be in front of one. One is meant just +to bear the burden of the moment, and, God knows, it is heavy enough for +you and him. Face difficulties as they arise, Madge, don't make a sum of +them and say the total is intolerable." + +He paused a moment. + +"And let me bear all that you can shift on to me," he said. "Because +otherwise, you see, my coming here will be purposeless. And I hate, +being a practical person, doing useless things." + + + + +TWENTY-THIRD + + +IT was a dismally wet afternoon some weeks later, and Evelyn was sitting +in one of the deep window-seats in the drawing-room of Philip's house +above Pangbourne, which looked out on to the terrace, where only six +months ago the nightingale had sat and sung on Tom Merivale's finger. +Below, communicating with the upper terrace by a flight of stone steps, +was the bedless square of grass, below again the rose garden, from which +the ground went steeply down to the river. He had occupied himself with +closing the shutters of this row of windows, one of which, reaching down +to the ground, communicated with the terrace, and, not satisfied with +this, he had drawn the curtains over them, leaving the room in darkness. +The window-seats were well cushioned, and having arrived at the last, he +slipped between the curtains he had drawn and curled himself up in it. +During this last month he had made, so everybody said, extraordinary +progress; he could already read a little, fast enough, that is to say, +to enable him to remember the sentences he spelled out with his fingers +in the raised type; he could remember the cards in his hand sufficiently +to enable him to play a game of bridge, and with a stick to feel his way +he could walk alone. But none, except he, knew the dreadful progress +which despair had made in his mind. He had begun to be able once to look +forward, to frame the future; but now the future was unframeable, he was +only able just to bear the present moment. Soon that might be +unbearable, too. + +For a week now this dull weight, starting from a definite moment, had +been gaining on him, for a week ago he had gone with Philip to the +lodge, and the four-year-old child of the lodge-keeper had come out with +his father. Evelyn, sitting down and waiting while Philip spoke to him, +had called the child, who toddled up to him, and then, when he got +close, burst into shrieks of frightened dismay. Evelyn had understood, +and he said nothing about it to anyone. But he put the fact away in his +mind, and when he was alone he took it out and looked at it. + +At this moment he was alone in the house. Mrs. Home was spending a few +days in London, Philip would soon be due by the evening train, and Madge +was out, doing some small businesses in Pangbourne. She had been +unwilling to leave him, but he had made it unmistakably and +ill-temperedly clear he would sooner be left. He thought with a dull +wonder at himself of the fact that he could have been cross with her. It +had happened often before, and in spite of its recurrence he never got +used to it. It always seemed strange to him. And with a wonder that was +almost incredulous, he thought how he had behaved to her to-day. For she +had come to him with a word which a man can only hear once, to whisper +which a woman nestles close to him, pouring out her very soul in the joy +of knowing that she will some day put into his arms her first-born +child. That Madge had told him, but he felt nothing; it did not reach +him, neither joy for her nor for himself seemed any longer capable of +being felt, and he had said only, "I shall never see it." He was +thinking about that now, if this leaden contemplation of facts could be +called thought, of that and of the child that had cried when it saw his +face. Over that face he passed his sensitive fingers. + +"I'm sure I don't wonder," he said to himself. + + * * * * * + +The door opened once as he lay in this window-seat, and correctly and +mechanically he pictured what was going on. Only one person entered; +that he could tell by the footfalls, and that one person whistled gently +to himself. He paused by the table, then went to the door again, and +again re-entered and paused by another. Then he poked the fire and swept +up the grate. Clearly the footman making the room ready, and he banged +the door as he went out. + +Now if that child had cried at the sight of his face, what must it be to +others? Surely they would cry too if they obeyed their natural impulse, +either cry or turn away, in pity, no doubt, but also in repulsion. It +must be an effort to everybody to look at him, to be with him. And Madge +was with him so much; she kissed him, she let him kiss her; she was his +wife, the wife of this man with the nightmare face at which a child +cried out as if it saw bogey. Philip had been quick and ready on that +occasion, had said the child was teething, and wrung corroboration from +the father. But he had answered, "Yes, it teethes when it sees me," and +Philip was not ready enough for that. + +The crying child explained other things too; for Mrs. Home had cried +when she saw him; he could hear from her voice that she was crying, +there were sobs in it. He had thought then that it was from pity merely +and sympathy, but he told himself now that it was not so; she cried from +horror at him. All his life he had hated ugly things, and now it would +be hard to match himself in that abhorred category. + + * * * * * + +The very kindness, too, and pity which he knew surrounded him were +scarcely more bearable. He did not want to be pitied, he would sooner be +left to drag out a lonely, shunned life than to be surrounded with pity; +while with regard to kindness, the knowledge that he and Madge were +frankly living on Philip became harder every day to swallow. Philip +certainly had done all he could to minimise the burden of that; he had, +soi-disant, bought the unfinished picture of himself, declaring that no +finished picture could possibly be so like him; he had bought, too, +after argument, the picture of Madge. The proceeds he had invested for +Evelyn, promising since he had advised him so ill before to take greater +care this time, and twice during this last month he had reported +substantial profits from the investments he had made for him, so that if +he insisted, as he did insist, on paying the bills for his nurse and +doctor, he still could run up to London whenever he pleased if +Pangbourne bored him. With luck, too, and care his investments would +grow fatter yet. + +On this occasion Evelyn had broken out. + +"Ah, I can't stand it," he cried. "I can't go on living here, Madge and +I, indefinitely. Yes, I know how kind you are, both you and your mother, +and how you would be pleased--really pleased--for us to stop forever, +but can't you see how impossible it is for me to accept your hospitality +like that? I must, I simply must, pay my way, earn something, work and +get tired, if only for the distraction of it. A barrel-organ, now. +'Totally blind. Ky-ind Gentleman!' That would be more self-respecting +than to sit here and do nothing. It's better to beg in the streets than +to accept alms without begging for them. That's why the poor have such a +horror of the workhouse. They would sooner be cold and hungry, and so +would I." + +He was silent a moment after this. + +"I suppose I needn't have said all that," he observed drearily. +"However, it doesn't much matter what I say." + +Philip had a horror of improving the occasion, but he could hardly let +such a chance of a word in season slip. He was, too, keenly wounded by +this. + +"You don't recollect, my dear fellow," he said, "that we are all doing +our best, and that it is hard not to be hurt by words like those." + +"Oh, for God's sake don't preach," cried Evelyn. + +Philip flushed for a moment rather angrily, but re-collected himself. + +"Indeed, I hope not," he said with a laugh. "Now are you ready to give +me my revenge at picquet?" + + * * * * * + +It was quite dark behind the curtains, though to Evelyn, who lay there, +whatever the light was, it would have been dark in any case, and in a +grosser darkness than that, a darkness of despair unilluminable by any +sun, he pondered these things, his own helplessness, his blindness, the +horror of his own face, and the dead weight of his indebtedness to +Philip, the one man in all the world whose charity, from the very nature +of things, was most unbearable. Together, poor fellow they formed a +blank wall which it seemed hopeless to try to scale; indeed, he no +longer really wanted to scale it, he only wanted to be allowed to sit +down and have not only sight, but hearing and feeling and taste and +smell closed forever, for death was surely a thing far less bitter than +this living death in life. He could no longer now look forward to the +future at all; it required all his energies to get through the hour that +was present, without some breakdown; decent behaviour for the moment, +when he was with any of the others, was the utmost he was capable of, +and even of that he often felt incapable. And his energies, such as they +were, were gradually failing before the hourly task. He was in no sense +beginning ever so slightly to get used to it all, and the trials of +each day, so far from making the trials of the next more easy to +contemplate or to bear, only weakened his powers of bearing them. It was +all so hopeless; for him hope was dead, and the last chord of her lyre +had snapped. + +But he did not feel this dully and vaguely; the very vividness and +alertness of his nature which had made life so passionately sweet to him +before made his hopelessness just as passionately felt now. He, too, +like Tom Merivale, but with less of set purpose and more of instinct in +his choice, had been in love with life, and that fire which had gone out +had left not mere grey ash, but something burningly cold, and life was +now as actively terrible to him as it had once been lovely. + + * * * * * + +There was the muffled sound of talking in the hall, and next moment the +steps of two people entered, and Madge spoke. The other step went on +towards the fireplace. + +"Evelyn not here?" she said. "I suppose he's gone to the library for +tea." + +Then Philip's voice spoke. + +"How has he been to-day?" + +"Ah, so bad, poor darling!" she said. "Sometimes I almost despair, +Philip; if it wasn't for you I know I should. Of course he tries all he +can, but it seems almost as if his powers of trying were failing. It +makes me utterly miserable to think of him." + +Evelyn did not move nor reveal his presence in any way. He felt as if +the speaker was but being the echo of his own thoughts. Philip said +something sympathetic in tone, but he did not catch that; he wanted only +to hear how far Madge agreed with himself. + +"And I dread his suspecting more," she went on. "I so often see him +feeling his face, as if trying to picture it to himself more clearly. +And if for a moment I should break down and let him know--ah, I can't +talk of it. Let us go to the library and see if he is there." + +Her voice choked a little over this; then without more words they passed +out of the drawing-room again, and Evelyn felt as if something had +snapped in his brain. He almost wondered that they had not heard it. + +As soon as the door had closed behind them he got swiftly and quietly +up from his seat and felt his way to the centre window, which opened on +to the terrace. He undid the shutters of it, stepped out, and closed it +behind him. He was hardly conscious of any motive in his action--he +certainly had no plan as to what he should do next. One overwhelming +fact had become a certainty to him, the fact contained in Madge's last +sentence, and he knew nothing more than that he must go away somewhere, +lose himself somehow, do anything rather than go back to her, to be +pitied, to be secretly shuddered at, to be a daily, hourly fear to her. +Indeed, he would never look upon their child. + + * * * * * + +It was a cold, windless evening, and the rain descended in a steady +downpour, hissing on to the shrubs, while the gutters of the house +gurgled and chuckled. But louder than the rain and more sonorous was the +great rush and roar of the river below, as it poured seawards, swollen +to a torrent of flood from these persistent rains. And something in the +strength and glory of that deep voice called to him; he must go down to +the river, for it had something to say to him. Yet it was not the river +that called to him, but in some mysterious way Tom Merivale, whose +jovial, deep voice was shouting to him to come with the authenticity of +actual hallucination. He hardly knew which it was; he knew only that he +could never go back to the house he had just left, and that something +called, with promise in its voice of life, real life, or of death and +deliverance, he knew not which. + +He had no stick to guide him, but without hesitation he crossed the +gravel of the terrace, and felt his way along the wall of it to where a +stone vase stood at the top of the steps leading to the lawn below. A +purple clematis twined round it; he had made a study of it for a picture +last summer. Then came the twelve steps, the shuffling across the soaked +grass of the lawn, and a further flight of twelve steps into the rose +garden. + +But at the thought of deliverance of some kind so close to him, so that +he need no more now think of "to-morrow and to-morrow," and all the +impossible to-morrows, his poor tired brain cleared, his myriad troubles +and sorrows seemed to roll away from him, for though the bitterness of +death was not past, the bitterness of life, in comparison to which the +other was sweet, was over. So with unclouded mind and soul, which no +longer rebelled and resented, he thought quietly, as he felt his way +across the rose garden, and struck the steep path leading to the river, +of all the past. + +How wonderful and beautiful life had been; since his earliest boyish +recollections, how full of surprising joys! Health and vigour had been +his, a clean, wholesome life, the power of loving this exquisite world, +an artistic gift that had made a daily Paradise, and, above all, love +itself, and the fulfilment of love. Then had come a crash, a break, but +how short had been these weeks in comparison of the rest. If this was +the pain with which he had to make payment for all his joy, how cheap, +to look at it fairly, had joy been. Now that he knew that was the full +payment that would be demanded for the joy he had received in such +unstinted abundance, he no longer complained, it was only while the +payment seemed to be going to be charged him indefinitely, every day for +years to come, that he had rebelled and owned himself bankrupt. The one +eternal necessity of life, which, the moment it ceases to brace begins +to paralyse, had passed from him, the necessity of going on always, +every day and hour, having to meet one difficulty after another, and +without hope of getting any respite, so long as life lasts. For now he +knew that some end was very near. + +He paused a moment to brush his dripping hair back from his face, +wondering in a sort of vague, uninterested manner whether something had +actually cracked in his brain, whether he had gone mad, or so the world +could call it. But whatever had cracked, it had been the tension of it +which all these weeks had caused his misery, and in this exquisite +moment of peace that had suddenly come to him he almost laughed aloud +for the unspeakable relief which the cessation of pain had brought. He +felt that up till now his mental eyes had been as blind as his physical +ones, that the blows that had been dealt him had been dealt from the +dark, so that he could not guess who wielded the whip. But now they had +ceased, and the clouds of darkness were rolled away, and there sat there +One with a face full of infinite compassion, and since none but He was +there, it must have been He, or some ministering angel of pain, who at +his bidding had chastised him thus. Then Evelyn felt as if he had asked +permission of Him to go on, for the river--or Tom's voice--still hailed +him joyously; and since it was allowed, still without intention, without +definite thought of any kind, he went on his way, with shuffling steps +indeed that stumbled over the gravel of the path, but with a great, +serene light shining on him. + +He had by now come close to the edge of the river, and the rain for the +moment had ceased, so that he could hear the suck and gurgle of the +hurrying flood-water, which whispered and chuckled to itself. But this +rapturous noise of swift-flowing water sounded but faintly, for a +hundred yards below was the weir. All the sluices were raised, and tons +of water momently plunged through the openings, bellowing with a great +hoarse laugh of ecstasy as they fell into the pool below. It was to that +place, somewhere in the middle of the narrow pathway of planks that he +was called; it was from there, where he would be surrounded on all sides +with the noise of waters, that the voice of Tom, that faithful lover of +water, called him. That somehow, and he did not question how or why, was +his goal, nor did he know whether life or death awaited him there; only +there was going to be reconcilement in some manner. + +He had been there many times before; he had been there, indeed, only +yesterday to listen to the splendid tumult of water. But to-day its +voice was redoubled, and he could feel the mist from the plunging stream +wet on his face as he went slowly and cautiously out over the wet +planks. Louder and more triumphantly every moment the voice of the +river--or was it Tom laughing with open mouth, as he used to laugh when +he swam in the garden pool below his cottage?--called to him. On both +sides, before and behind, he was surrounded by the joyous riot of +waters, that filled and possessed his brain till his whole consciousness +was flooded with it till his voice too had to join in it. So he raised +his arms, spreading them out to the night, and threw back his head with +a great shout of ecstatic rapture. And as he did this his foot slipped +on the wet planks, and he fell into the roaring, rushing pool below. So +the great Mother took him back to herself. + +[Illustration: text decoration] + +[Illustration: text decoration] + + + + +EPILOGUE + + +It was just a year later, a warm, mellow afternoon of mid-October. For +the last few nights there had been an early autumn frost, though the +days were almost like a return of summer, and the beech-wood below +Philip's house at Pangbourne was just beginning to don its russet +livery. The frost, too, had made its mark on blackened dahlias, but the +chrysanthemums were still gorgeous. And on the terrace were walking two +figures, both dressed in black, one tall, who strolled beside the other, +Madge and Mrs. Home. The latter was still as like a Dresden shepherdess +as ever in the pretty china delicacy of her face, but Madge had changed +somewhat. Trouble had written its unmistakable signs on her face, but +tenderness had been at work there, too, and though her eyes were sad, +yet with the sadness was mingled something so sweet and gentle that no +one who loved her would have wished that the sadness should not be +there, if the other had come hand-in-hand with it. And it was +hand-in-hand that they had come during the last eighteen months of her +life, which had been to her of such infinitely greater import than all +the years that had gone before. + +"Yes, it is even as I tell you," she was saying. "I never think of +Evelyn as blind. I think of him--well, a good deal, but he always comes +back to me, not as he was in those last weeks, but in those first few +weeks before, bright-eyed--you know how bright his eyes were--and full +of a sort of boyish joy at this jolly world. No, I scarcely feel sad +when I think of him. He was fragile; he would have broken if he had had +to bear more. And I think God knew that, and spared him by letting him +die." + +She walked on a little without speaking. Mrs. Home's hand on her arm +pressed its sympathy, but she said nothing. + +"I have been allowed to forget, too," Madge went on, "or to remember it +only as a nightmare from which I awoke, the way I shrank from him, and +I only wonder now whether, if he had lived, I should have got used to +it. Ah, surely it must have been in a dream only that I shrank from +him." + +"Yes, dear, it was only that," said Mrs. Home. "At least, no one knew. +You behaved so that no one guessed." + +"Philip knew. If it had not been for him during those months I think I +should have gone mad. And for the second time he kept me--it is hardly +an exaggeration--kept me sane when baby died." + +Mrs. Home, when she had anything important and difficult to say, often +gave out little twittering, mouse-like noises before she could manage to +speak. Madge knew this, and thus, hearing them now, waited for her to +overcome her embarrassment. + +"And is there no hope for Philip, dear?" she asked at length. + +Madge had rather expected this was coming, but her answer gave her less +embarrassment than the question had caused his mother. + +"I owe Philip everything," she said, "and though I don't suppose I can +ever love again in the way that I have loved, still--you know once I +told him quite truthfully that I would give him all that I was capable +of. You see, I did not know then what love meant. That was a niggardly +gift to offer him. And now again I can give him--oh, so gratefully--all +I am capable of. It is, I hope, not quite such a mean thing as it was. I +think----" + +Madge paused a moment. + +"I think sorrow has made me a little more worthy of him," she went on. +"It has made me a little more like a woman. So if he cares still----" + +"Ah, my dear, you say 'still.' Why, day by day he loves you more." + +Madge looked at Mrs. Home a moment in silence, and the sadness of her +eyes was melted into pure tenderness. + +"You are sure?" she said. + +"He will tell you better than I." + +Madge gave a long sigh, then let her gaze wander down the steep path to +the river, which crossed the weir and formed a short cut through the +fields of Pangbourne. The sun, which was near to its setting, dazzled +her a little, and she put up her hand to shade her eyes. + +"Ah, that is he coming up the path," she said. "He must have caught the +earlier train. Shall we go to meet him?" + +"You go, dear," said Mrs. Home. "I will wait for you here." + + * * * * * + +THE CHALLONERS + +BY E. F. BENSON + +_12mo. Cloth, $1.50._ + +The theme is a father's concern lest his children become contaminated by +what he considers an unwholesome social atmosphere. The book is filled +with Mr. Benson's clever observations on the English smart set, and the +love-story shows him at his best. + + * * * * * + +MORGANATIC + +By MAX NORDAU + +_12mo. Decorated cloth, $1.50._ + +This new book by the author of "Degeneration," has many of the qualities +which gave its predecessor such a phenomenal sale. It is a study of +morganatic marriage, and full of strong situations. + +J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA + + * * * * * + +BACCARAT + +BY FRANK DANBY + +AUTHOR OF "PIGS IN CLOVER" + +_12mo. Six illustrations in color. Cloth, $1.50._ + +The story of a young wife left by her husband at a Continental watering +place for a brief summer stay, who, before she is aware, has drifted +into the feverish current of a French Monte Carlo. + +A dramatic and intense book that stirs the pity. One cannot read +"Baccarat" unmoved. + + "The finished style and unforgettable story, the living characters, + and compact tale of the new book show it to be a work on which care + and time have been expended. + + "Much more dramatic than her first novel, it possesses in common + with it a story of deep and terrible human interest."--_Chicago + Tribune._ + +J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA + + * * * * * + +OLIVE LATHAM + +By E. L. VOYNICH + + Author of "Jack Raymond" and "The Gadfly." Cloth, $1.50 + + "The author's knowledge of this matter has been painfully personal. + Her husband, a Polish political refugee, at the age of twenty-two, + was arrested and thrown into a vile Russian prison without trial, + and spent five years of his life thereafter in Siberian exile, + escaping in 1890 and fleeing to England. Throughout 'Olive Latham' + you get the impression that it is a veritable record of what one + woman went through for love.... This painful, poignant, + powerfully-written story permits one full insight into the cruel + workings of Russian justice and its effects upon the nature of a + well-poised Englishwoman. Olive comes out of the Russian hell + alive, and lives to know what happiness is again, but the horror of + those days in St. Petersburg, the remembrance of the inhumanity + which killed her lover never leaves her.... It rings true. It is a + grewsome study of Russian treatment of political offenders. Its + theme is not objectionable--a criticism which has been brought + against other books of Mrs. Voynich's."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + "So vividly are the coming events made to cast their shadows + before, that long before the half-way point is reached the reader + knows that Volodya's doom is near at hand, and that the chief + interest of the story lies not with him, but with the girl, and + more specifically with the curious mental disorders which her long + ordeal brings upon her. It is seldom that an author has succeeded + in depicting with such grim horror the sufferings of a mind that + feels itself slipping over the brink of sanity, and clutches + desperately at shadows in the effort to drag itself back."--_New + York Globe._ + +J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. + + * * * * * + +Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: + +poenies=> peonies {pg 5} + +pleasuarable=> pleasurable {pg 60} + +vigourous=> vigorous {pg 76} + +the world was sleep=> the world was asleep {pg 88} + +And I daren't go bock to Brockenhurst=> And I daren't go back to +Brockenhurst {pg 118} + +negligable=> negligible {pg 157} + +carreer=> career {pg 207} + +mobolised=> mobilised {pg 219} + +Tavener=> Taverner {pg 209, 263 & 325} + +millioneth-part=> millionth-part {pg 231} + +everywhere else=> everyone else {pg 251} + +sosiety=> Society {pg 280} + +in a birth=> in a berth {pg 296} + +bood-poisoning=> blood-poisoning {pg 309} + +impossibe=> impossible {pg 310} + +goin=> going {pg 318} + +asserverations=> asseverations {pg 328} + +You wont=> You won't {pg 346} + +That it vain repetition=> That is vain repetition {pg 350} + +teeths=> teethes {pg 356} + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Angel of Pain, by E. F. Benson + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44210 *** diff --git a/44210-h.zip b/44210-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9c061cf..0000000 --- a/44210-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/44210-h/44210-h.htm b/44210-h/44210-h.htm index 4a2587e..3de45e3 100644 --- a/44210-h/44210-h.htm +++ b/44210-h/44210-h.htm @@ -3,7 +3,7 @@ <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> <head> <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> <title> The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Angel of Pain, by E. F. Benson. </title> @@ -86,44 +86,7 @@ border-bottom:2px solid black;} </style> </head> <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Angel of Pain, by E. F. Benson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Angel of Pain - -Author: E. F. Benson - -Release Date: November 17, 2013 [EBook #44210] -[Last updated: February 1, 2014] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANGEL OF PAIN *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44210 ***</div> <hr class="full" /> @@ -15330,385 +15293,6 @@ style="padding:2%;border:3px dotted gray;"> <hr class="full" /> - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Angel of Pain, by E. F. 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