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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Love's Shadow, by Ada Leverson
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+Title: Love's Shadow
+
+Author: Ada Leverson
+
+Release Date: January, 2006  [EBook #9786]
+[This file was first posted on October 16, 2003]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LOVE'S SHADOW ***
+
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Beginners Projects, Virginia Paque, and
+the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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+
+LOVE'S SHADOW
+
+ADA LEVERSON
+
+First Published London, 1908.
+
+(Book One of THE LITTLE OTTLEYS)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Love's Shadow]
+
+
+   Love like a shadow flies
+      When substance love pursues;
+    Pursuing that that flies,
+      And flying what pursues.
+
+                     SHAKESPEARE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Hyacinth
+
+
+'There's only one thing I must really implore you, Edith,' said Bruce
+anxiously. '_Don't_ make me late at the office!'
+
+'Certainly not, Bruce,' answered Edith sedately. She was seated opposite
+her husband at breakfast in a very new, very small, very white flat in
+Knightsbridge--exactly like thousands of other new, small, white flats.
+She was young and pretty, but not obvious. One might suppose that she
+was more subtle than was shown by her usual expression, which was merely
+cheerful and intelligent.
+
+'Now I have to write that letter before I go,' Bruce exclaimed, starting
+up and looking at her reproachfully. 'Why didn't I write it last night?'
+
+Edith hadn't the slightest idea, as she had heard nothing of the letter
+before, but, in the course of three years, she had learnt that it saved
+time to accept trifling injustices. So she looked guilty and a little
+remorseful. He magnanimously forgave her, and began to write the letter
+at a neat white writing-table.
+
+'How many g's are there in "Raggett"?' he asked suspiciously.
+
+She didn't answer, apparently overtaken by a sudden fit of absence of
+mind.
+
+'Only one, of course. How absurd you are!' said her husband, laughing,
+as he finished the letter and came back to the table.
+
+She poured out more coffee.
+
+'It's a curious thing,' he went on in a tone of impartial regret, 'that,
+with all the fuss about modern culture and higher education nowadays,
+girls are not even taught to spell!'
+
+'Yes, isn't it? But even if I had been taught, it might not have been
+much use. I might just not have been taught to spell "Raggett". It's a
+name, isn't it?'
+
+'It's a very well-known name,' said Bruce.
+
+'I daresay it is, but I don't know it. Would you like to see the boy
+before you go?'
+
+'What a question! I always like to see the boy. But you know perfectly
+well I haven't time this morning.'
+
+'Very well, dear. You can see him this afternoon.'
+
+'Why do you say that? You know I'm going golfing with Goldthorpe! It
+really is hard, Edith, when a man has to work so much that he has
+scarcely any time for his wife and child.'
+
+She looked sympathetic.
+
+'What are you doing today?' he asked.
+
+'Hyacinth's coming to fetch me for a drive in the motor.'
+
+His face brightened. He said kindly, 'I _am_ so glad, darling, that you
+have such a delightful friend--when I can't be with you. I admire
+Hyacinth very much, in every way. She seems devoted to you, too, which
+is really very nice of her. What I mean to say is, that in her position
+she might know anybody. You see my point?'
+
+'Quite.'
+
+'How did you meet her originally?'
+
+'We were school-friends.'
+
+'She's such a lovely creature; I wonder she doesn't marry.'
+
+'Yes, but she has to find someone else whom _she_ thinks a lovely
+creature, too.'
+
+'Edith, dear.'
+
+'Yes, Bruce.'
+
+'I wish you wouldn't snap me up like that. Oh, I know you don't mean it,
+but it's growing on you, rather.'
+
+She tried to look serious, and said gently, 'Is it, really? I am sorry.'
+
+'You don't mind me telling you of it, do you?'
+
+'Not at all. I'm afraid you will be late, Bruce.'
+
+He started up and hurried away, reminding Edith that dinner was to be at
+eight. They parted with affectionate smiles.
+
+When he had gone down in the lift, Edith took an inextensive walk
+through the entire flat, going into each room, and looking at herself in
+every looking-glass. She appeared to like herself best in the
+dining-room mirror, for she returned, stared into it rather gravely for
+some little time, and then said to herself: 'Yes, I'm beginning to
+look bored.'
+
+Then she rang the bell, and the nurse brought in a pretty little boy of
+nearly two, Huffily dressed in white, who was excited at the prospect of
+his great morning treat--going down in the lift. Speaking of him with
+some formality as Master Archie, she asked the nurse a few questions,
+which she mistakenly supposed gave that personage the impression that
+she knew all that there was to be known about children. When she was
+alone with him for a minute she rushed at him impulsively, saying,
+privately, 'Heavenly pet! Divine angel! Duck!' in return for which he
+pulled her hair down and scratched her face with a small empty Noah's
+Ark that he was taking out with him for purposes of his own.
+
+When he had gone she did her hair up again in a different way--parted in
+the middle. It was very pretty, wavy, fair hair, and she had small,
+regular features, so the new way suited her very well. Then she
+said again--
+
+'Yes, if it were not for Hyacinth I should soon look bored to death!'
+
+
+Hyacinth Verney was the romance of Edith's life. She also provided a
+good deal of romance in the lives of several other people. Her position
+was unusual, and her personality fascinating. She had no parents, was an
+heiress, and lived alone with a companion in a quaint little house just
+out of Berkeley Square, with a large studio, that was never used for
+painting. She had such an extraordinary natural gift for making people
+of both sexes fond of her, that it would have been difficult to say
+which, of all the persons who loved her, showed the most intense
+devotion in the most immoderate way. Probably her cousin and guardian,
+Sir Charles Cannon, and her companion, Anne Yeo, spent more thought and
+time in her service than did anybody else. Edith's imagination had been
+fired in their school-days by her friend's beauty and cleverness, and by
+the fact that she had a guardian, like a book. Then Hyacinth had come
+out and gone in for music, for painting, and for various other arts and
+pursuits of an absorbing character. She had hardly any acquaintances
+except her relations, but possessed an enormously large number of
+extremely intimate friends--a characteristic that had remained to her
+from her childhood.
+
+Hyacinth's ideal of society was to have no padding, so that most of the
+members of her circle were types. Still, as she had a perfect passion
+for entertaining, there remained, of course, a residue; distant elderly
+connections with well-sounding names (as ballast), and a few vague
+hangers-on; several rather dull celebrities, some merely pretty and
+well-dressed women, and a steadily increasing number of good-looking
+young men. Hyacinth was fond of decoration.
+
+As she frankly admitted, she had rather fallen back on Edith, finding
+her, after many experiments, the most agreeable of friends, chiefly
+because in their intercourses everything was always taken for granted.
+Like sisters, they understood one another without explanation--_a
+demi-mot_.
+
+
+While Edith waited impatiently in the hall of the flat, Anne Yeo, her
+unacknowledged rival in Hyacinth's affections, was doing needlework in
+the window-seat of the studio, and watching Hyacinth, who, dressed to go
+out, was walking up and down the room. With a rather wooden face, high
+cheek-bones, a tall, thin figure, and no expression, Anne might have
+been any age; but she was not. She made every effort to look quite forty
+so as to appear more suitable as a chaperone, but was in reality barely
+thirty. She was thinking, as she often thought, that Hyacinth looked too
+romantic for everyday life. When they had travelled together this fact
+had been rather a nuisance.
+
+'Why, when you call at the Stores to order groceries, must you look as
+if you were going to elope?' she asked dryly. 'In an ordinary motorveil
+you have the air of hastening to some mysterious appointment.'
+
+'But I'm only going to fetch Edith Ottley for a drive,' said Hyacinth.
+'How bored she must get with her little Foreign Office clerk! The way he
+takes his authority as a husband seriously is pathetic. He hasn't the
+faintest idea the girl is cleverer than he is.'
+
+'You'd far better leave her alone, and not point it out,' said Anne.
+'You're always bothering about these little Ottleys now. But you've been
+very restless lately. Whenever you try to do people good, and especially
+when you motor so much and so fast, I recognise the symptoms. It's
+coming on again, and you're trying to get away from it.'
+
+'Don't say that. I'm never going to care about anyone again,' said
+Hyacinth.
+
+'You don't know it, but when you're not in love you're not yourself,'
+Anne continued. 'It's all you live for.'
+
+'Oh, Anne!'
+
+'It's quite true. It's nearly three months since you--had an attack.
+Blair was the last. Now you're beginning to take the same sort of
+interest in Cecil Reeve.'
+
+'How mistaken you are, Anne! I don't take at all the same interest in
+him. It's a totally different thing. I don't really even like him.'
+
+'You wouldn't go out today if you were expecting him.'
+
+'Yes, but I'm not ... and he doesn't care two straws about me. Once he
+said he never worshipped in a crowded temple!'
+
+'It's a curious coincidence that ever since then you've been out to
+everyone else,' said Anne.
+
+'I don't really like him--so very much. When he _does_ smile, of course
+it's rather nice. Why does he hate me?'
+
+'I can't think,' said Anne.
+
+'He doesn't hate me! How can you say so?' cried Hyacinth.
+
+'Doesn't he?'
+
+'Perhaps it's because he thinks I look Spanish. He may disapprove of
+looking Spanish,' suggested Hyacinth.
+
+'Very likely.'
+
+Hyacinth laughed, kissed her, and went out. Anne followed her graceful
+figure with disapproving, admiring eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+The Anxieties of Sir Charles
+
+
+Like all really uncommon beauties, Hyacinth could only be adequately
+described by the most hackneyed phrases. Her eyes were authentically
+sapphire-coloured; brilliant, frank eyes, with a subtle mischief in
+them, softened by the most conciliating long eyelashes. Then, her mouth
+was really shaped like a Cupid's bow, and her teeth _were_ dazzling;
+also she had a wealth of dense, soft, brown hair and a tall, sylphlike,
+slimly-rounded figure. Her features were delicately regular, and her
+hands and feet perfection. Her complexion was extremely fair, so she was
+not a brunette; some remote Spanish ancestor on her mother's side was,
+however, occasionally mentioned as an apology for a type and a supple
+grace sometimes complained of by people with white eyelashes as rather
+un-English. So many artistic young men had told her she was like La
+Gioconda, that when she first saw the original in the Louvre she was so
+disappointed that she thought she would never smile again.
+
+About ten minutes after the pretty creature had gone out, Anne, who had
+kept her eyes steadily on the clock, looked out of the window, from
+which she could see a small brougham driving up. She called out into
+the hall--
+
+'If that's Sir Charles Cannon, tell him Miss Verney is out, but I have a
+message for him.'
+
+A minute later there entered a thin and distinguished-looking,
+grey-haired man of about forty-five, wearing a smile of such excessive
+cordiality that one felt it could only have been brought to his
+well-bred lips by acute disappointment. Anne did not take the smile
+literally, but began to explain away the blow.
+
+'I'm so sorry,' she said apologetically. 'I'm afraid it's partly my
+fault. When she suddenly decided to go out with that little Mrs Ottley,
+she told me vaguely to telephone to you. But how on earth could I know
+where you were?'
+
+'How indeed? It doesn't matter in the least, my dear Miss Yeo. I mean,
+it's most unfortunate, as I've just a little free time. Lady Cannon's
+gone to a matinee at the St James's. We had tickets for the first night,
+but of course she wouldn't use them then. She preferred to go alone in
+the afternoon, because she detests the theatre, anyhow, and afternoon
+performances give her a headache. And if she does a thing that's
+disagreeable to her, she likes to do it in the most painful possible
+way. She has a beautiful nature.'
+
+Anne smiled, and passed him a little gold box.
+
+'Have a cigarette?' she suggested.
+
+'Thanks--I'm not really in a bad temper. But why this relapse of
+devotion to little Mrs Ottley? And why are you and I suddenly treated
+with marked neglect?'
+
+'Mrs Ottley,' said Anne, 'is one of those young women, rather bored with
+their husbands, who are the worst possible companions for Hyacinth. They
+put her off marrying.'
+
+'Bored, is she? She didn't strike me so. A pleasant, bright girl. I
+suppose she amuses Hyacinth?'
+
+'Yes; of course, she's not a dull old maid over forty, like me,' said
+Anne.
+
+'No-one would believe that description of you,' said Sir Charles, with a
+bow that was courtly but absent. As a matter of fact, he did believe it,
+but it wasn't true.
+
+'If dear little Mrs Ottley,' he continued, 'married in too great a
+hurry, far be it from me to reproach her. I married in a hurry
+myself--when Hyacinth was ten.'
+
+'And when she was eighteen you were very sorry,' said Anne in her
+colourless voice.
+
+'Don't let us go into that, Miss Yeo. Of course, Hyacinth is a
+beautiful--responsibility. People seem to think she ought to have gone
+on living with us when she left school. But how was it possible?
+Hyacinth said she intended to live for her art, and Lady Cannon couldn't
+stand the scent of oils.' He glanced round the large panelled-oak room
+in which not a picture was to be seen. The only indication of its having
+ever been meant for a studio was the north light, carefully obstructed
+(on the grounds of unbecomingness) by gently-tinted draperies of some
+fabric suggesting Liberty's. 'Life wasn't worth living, trying to keep
+the peace!'
+
+'But you must have missed her?'
+
+'Still, I prefer coming to see her here. And knowing she has you with
+her is, after all, everything.'
+
+He looked a question.
+
+'Yes, she has. I mean, she seems rather--absorbed again lately,' said
+Anne.
+
+'Who is it?' he asked. 'I always feel so indiscreet and treacherous
+talking over her private affairs like this with you, though she tells me
+everything herself. I'm not sure it's the act of a simple, loyal,
+Christian English gentleman; in fact, I'm pretty certain it's not. I
+suppose that's why I enjoy it so much.'
+
+'I daresay,' said Anne; 'but she wouldn't mind it.'
+
+'What has been happening?'
+
+'Nothing interesting. Hazel Kerr came here the other day and brought
+with him a poem in bronze lacquer, as he called it. He read it
+aloud--the whole of it.'
+
+'Good heavens! Poetry! Do people still do that sort of thing? I thought
+it had gone out years ago--when I was a young man.'
+
+'Of course, so it has. But Hazel Kerr is out of date. Hyacinth says he's
+almost a classic.'
+
+'His verses?'
+
+'Oh no! His method. She says he's an interesting survival--he's walked
+straight out of another age--the nineties, you know. There were poets in
+those days.'
+
+'Method! He was much too young then to have a style at all, surely!'
+
+'That _was_ the style. It was the right thing to be very young in the
+nineties. It isn't now.'
+
+'It's not so easy now, for some of us,' murmured Sir Charles.
+
+'But Hazel keeps it up,' Anne answered.
+
+Sir Charles laughed irritably. 'He keeps it up, does he? But he sits
+people out openly, that shows he's not really dangerous. One doesn't
+worry about Hazel. It's that young man who arrives when everybody's
+going, or goes before anyone else arrives, that's what I'm a little
+anxious about.'
+
+'If you mean Cecil Reeve, Hyacinth says he doesn't like her.'
+
+'I'm sorry to hear that. If anything will interest her, that will. Yet I
+don't know why I should mind. At any rate, he certainly isn't trying to
+marry her for interested reasons, as he's very well off--or perhaps for
+any reasons. I'm told he's clever, too.'
+
+'His appearance is not against him either,' said Anne dryly; 'so what's
+the matter with him?'
+
+'I don't know exactly. I think he's capable of playing with her.'
+
+'Perhaps he doesn't really appreciate her,' suggested Anne.
+
+'Oh, yes, he does. He's a connoisseur--confound him! He appreciates her
+all right. But it's all for himself--not for her. By the way, I've heard
+his name mentioned with another woman's name. But I happen to know
+there's nothing in it.'
+
+'Would you really like her to marry soon?' Anne asked.
+
+'In her position it would be better, I suppose,' said her guardian, with
+obvious distaste to the idea.
+
+'Has there ever been anyone that you thoroughly approved of?' asked
+Anne.
+
+He shook his head.
+
+'I rather doubt if there ever will be,' Anne said.
+
+'She's so clever, so impulsive! She lives so much on her emotions. If
+she were disappointed--in that way--it would mean so much to her,' Sir
+Charles said.
+
+'She does change rather often,' said Anne.
+
+'Of course, she's never really known her own mind.' He took a letter out
+of his pocket. 'I came partly to show her a letter from Ella--my girl at
+school in Paris, you know. Hyacinth is so kind to her. She writes to me
+very confidentially. I hope she's being properly brought up!'
+
+'Let me read it.'
+
+She read--
+
+'DARLING PAPA,
+
+'I'm having heavenly fun at school. Last night there was a ball for
+Madame's birthday. A proper grown-up ball, and we all danced. The men
+weren't bad. I had a lovely Easter egg, a chocolate egg, and inside that
+another egg with chocolate in it, and inside that another egg with a
+dear little turquoise charm in it. One man said I was a blonde anglaise,
+and had a keepsake face; and another has taken the Prix de Rome, and is
+going to be a schoolmaster. There were no real ices. Come over and see
+me soon. It's such a long time to the holidays. Love to mother.
+
+'Your loving,
+
+'ELLA.'
+
+
+'A curious letter--for her age,' said Ella's father, replacing it. 'I
+wish she were here. It seems a pity Lady Cannon can't stand the noise of
+practising--and so on. Well, perhaps it's for the best.' He got up.
+'Miss Yeo, I must go and fetch Lady Cannon now, but I'll come back at
+half-past six for a few minutes--on my way to the club.'
+
+'She's sure to be here then,' replied Anne consolingly; 'and do persuade
+her not to waste all her time being kind to Edith Ottley. It can't do
+any good. She'd better leave them alone.'
+
+'Really, it's a very innocent amusement. I think you're overanxious.'
+
+'It's only that I'm afraid she might get mixed up in--well, some
+domestic row.'
+
+'Surely it can't be as bad as that! Why--is Mr Ottley in love with her?'
+he asked, smiling.
+
+'Very much indeed,' said Anne.
+
+'Oh, really, Miss Yeo!--and does Mrs Ottley know it?'
+
+'No, nor Hyacinth either. He doesn't know it himself.'
+
+'Then if nobody knows it, it can't matter very much,' said Sir Charles,
+feeling vaguely uncomfortable all the same. Before he went he took up a
+portrait of Hyacinth in an Empire dress with laurel leaves in her hair.
+It was a beautiful portrait. Anne thought that from the way he looked at
+it, anyone could have guessed Lady Cannon had tight lips and wore a
+royal fringe.... They parted with great friendliness.
+
+Anne's wooden, inexpressive countenance was a great comfort to Sir
+Charles, in some moods. Though she was clever enough, she did not have
+that superfluity of sympathy and responsiveness that makes one go away
+regretting one has said so much, and disliking the other person for
+one's expansion. One never felt that she had understood too accurately,
+nor that one had given oneself away, nor been indiscreetly curious....
+It was like talking to a chair. What a good sort Anne was!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Anne Yeo
+
+
+'Would you like me to play to you a little?' Anne asked, when Hyacinth
+had returned and was sitting in the carved-oak chimney-corner, looking
+thoughtful and picturesque.
+
+'Oh no, please don't! Besides, I know you can't'
+
+'No, thank goodness!' exclaimed Anne. 'I know I'm useful and practical,
+and I don't mind that; but anyhow, I'm not cheerful, musical, and a
+perfect lady, in exchange for a comfortable home, am I?'
+
+'No, indeed,' said Hyacinth fervently.
+
+'No-one can speak of me as "that pleasant, cultivated creature who lives
+with Miss Verney," can they?'
+
+'Not, at any rate, if they have any regard for truth,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'I wish you wouldn't make me laugh. Why should I have a sense of humour?
+I sometimes think that all your friends imagine it's part of my duty to
+shriek with laughter at their wretched jokes. It wasn't in the contract.
+If I were pretty, my ambition would have been to be an adventuress; but
+an adventuress with no adventures would be a little flat. I might have
+the worst intentions, but I should never have the chance of carrying
+them out. So I try to be as much as possible like Thackeray's shabby
+companion in a dyed silk.'
+
+'Is that why you wear a sackcloth blouse trimmed with ashes?' said
+Hyacinth, with curiosity.
+
+'No, that's merely stinginess. It's my nature to be morbidly economical,
+though I know I needn't be. If I hadn't had L500 a year left me, I
+should never have been able to come and live here, and drop all my
+horrid relations. I enjoy appearing dependent and being a spectator, and
+I've absolutely given up all interest in my own affairs. In fact, I
+haven't got any. And I take the keenest interest in other
+people's--romances. Principally, of course, in yours.'
+
+'I'm sure I don't want you to be so vicarious as all that--thanks
+awfully,' said Hyacinth. 'At any rate, don't dress like a skeleton at
+the feast tomorrow, if you don't mind. I've asked the little Ottleys to
+dinner--and, I want Charles to come.'
+
+'Oh, of course, if you expect Cecil Reeve!--I suppose you do, as you
+haven't mentioned it--I'll put on my real clothes to do you credit.' She
+looked out of the window. 'Here's poor old Charles again. How he does
+dislike Lady Cannon!'
+
+'What a shame, Anne! He's angelic to her.'
+
+'That's what I meant,' said Anne, going out quickly.
+
+'Charles, how nice of you to call and return your own visit the same
+day! It's like Royalty, isn't it? It reminds me of the young man who was
+asked to call again, and came back in half an hour,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'I didn't quite see my way to waiting till Monday,' he answered. 'We're
+going away the end of the week. Janet says she needs a change.'
+
+'It would be more of a change if you remained in town alone; at least,
+without Aunty.'
+
+From the age of ten Hyacinth had resented having to call Lady Cannon by
+this endearing name. How a perfect stranger, by marrying her cousin,
+could become her aunt, was a mystery that she refused even to try to
+solve. It was well meant, no doubt; it was supposed to make her feel
+more at home--less of an orphan. But though she was obedient on this
+point, nothing would ever induce her to call her cousin by anything but
+his Christian name, with no qualification. Instinctively she felt that
+to call them 'Charles and Aunty', while annoying the intruder, kept her
+guardian in his proper place. What that was she did not specify.
+
+'Well, can't you stay in London and come here, and be confided in and
+consulted? You know you like that better than boring yourself to death
+at Redlands.'
+
+'Never mind that. How did you enjoy your drive?'
+
+'Immensely, and I've asked both the little Ottleys to come to dinner
+tomorrow--one of those impulsive, unconsidered invitations that one
+regrets the second after. I must make up a little party. Will you come?'
+
+'Perhaps, if I arranged to follow Janet to Redlands the next day, I
+might. Who did you say was the other man?'
+
+'I expect Cecil Reeve,' she said. 'Don't put on that air of marble
+archness, Charles. It doesn't suit you at all. Tell me something
+about him.'
+
+'I can't stand him. That's all I know about him,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'Oh, is that all? That's just jealousy, Charles.'
+
+'Absurd! How can a married man, in your father's place, a hundred years
+older than you, be jealous?'
+
+'It is wonderful, isn't it?' she said. 'But you must know something
+about him. You know everyone.'
+
+'He's Lord Selsey's nephew--and his heir--if Selsey doesn't marry again.
+He's only a young man about town--the sort of good-looking ass that your
+sex admires.'
+
+'Charles, what a brute you are! He's very clever.'
+
+'My dear child, yes--as a matter of fact, I believe he is. Isn't he ever
+going to _do_ something?'
+
+'I don't know,' she said. 'I wish he would. Oh, _why_ don't you like
+him?'
+
+'What can it matter about me?' he answered. 'Why are you never satisfied
+unless I'm in love with the same people that you are?'
+
+'Charles!' she exclaimed, standing up. 'Don't you understand that not a
+word, not a look has passed to suggest such a thing? I never met
+anyone so--'
+
+'So cautious?'
+
+'No, so listless, and so respectful; and yet so amusing.... But I'm
+pretty certain that he hates me. I wish I knew why.'
+
+'And you hate him just as much, of course?'
+
+'No, sometimes I don't. And then I want you to agree with me. No-one
+sympathises really so well as you, Charles.'
+
+'Not even Miss Yeo?'
+
+'No, I get on so well with Anne because she doesn't She's always
+interested, but I prefer her never to agree with me, as she lives here.
+It would be enervating to have someone always there and perpetually
+sympathetic. Anne is a tonic.'
+
+'You need a little opposition to keep you up,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'Didn't I once hear something about his being devoted to someone? Wasn't
+there a report that he was going to be married to a Mrs. Raymond?'
+
+'I believe it was once contradicted in the _Morning Post_ that he was
+engaged to her,' said Sir Charles. 'But I'm sure there's no truth in it.
+I know her.'
+
+'No truth in the report? Or the contradiction?'
+
+'In either. In anything.'
+
+'So you know her. What's she like?' Hyacinth asked anxiously.
+
+'Oh, a dear, charming creature--you'd like her; but not pretty, nor
+young. About my age,' he said.
+
+'Oh, I see! _That's_ all right, then!' She clapped her hands.
+
+'Well, I must go. I'll arrange to turn up to dinner tomorrow.' He took
+his hat, looking rather depressed.
+
+'And try to make him like me!' she commanded, as Sir Charles took leave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+The Sound Sense of Lady Cannon
+
+
+Lady Cannon had never been seen after half-past seven except in evening
+dress, generally a velvet dress of some dark crimson or bottle-green, so
+tightly-fitting as to give her an appearance of being rather upholstered
+than clothed. Her cloaks were always like well-hung curtains, her trains
+like heavy carpets; one might fancy that she got her gowns from Gillows.
+Her pearl dog-collar, her diamond ear-rings, her dark red fringe and the
+other details of her toilette were put on with the same precision when
+she dined alone with Sir Charles as if she were going to a ceremonious
+reception. She was a very tall, fine-looking woman. In Paris, where she
+sometimes went to see Ella at school, she attracted much public
+attention as _une femme superbe_. Frenchmen were heard to remark to one
+another that her husband _ne devrait pas s'embeter_ (which, as a matter
+of fact, was precisely what he did--to extinction); and even in the
+streets when she walked out the gamins used to exclaim, '_Voila l'Arc de
+Triomphe qui se promene!_'--to her intense fury and gratification. She
+was still handsome, with hard, wide-open blue eyes, and straight
+features. She always held her head as if she were being photographed in
+a tiara _en profil perdu_. It was in this attitude that she had often
+been photographed and was now most usually seen; and it seemed so
+characteristic that even her husband, if he accidentally caught a
+glimpse of her full-face, hastily altered his position to one whence he
+could behold her at right angles.
+
+As she grew older, the profile in the photographs had become more and
+more _perdu_; the last one showed chiefly the back of her head, besides
+a basket of flowers, and a double staircase, leading (one hoped) at
+least to one of the upper rooms in Buckingham Palace.
+
+Lady Cannon had a very exalted opinion of her own charms, virtues,
+brilliant gifts, and, above all, of her sound sense. Fortunately for
+her, she had married a man of extraordinary amiability, who had always
+taken every possible precaution to prevent her discovering that in this
+opinion she was practically alone in the world.
+
+Having become engaged to her through a slight misunderstanding in a
+country house, Sir Charles had not had the courage to explain away the
+mistake. He decided to make the best of it, and did so the more easily
+as it was one of those so-called suitable matches that the friends and
+acquaintances of both parties approve of and desire far more than the
+parties concerned. A sensible woman was surely required at Redlands and
+in the London house, especially as Sir Charles had been left guardian
+and trustee to a pretty little heiress.
+
+It had taken him a very short time to find out that the reputation for
+sound sense was, like most traditions, founded on a myth, and that if
+his wife's vanity was only equalled by her egotism, her most remarkable
+characteristic was her excessive silliness. But she loved him, and he
+kept his discovery to himself.
+
+'Twenty-five minutes to eight!' she exclaimed, holding out a little
+jewelled watch, as Sir Charles came in after his visit to Hyacinth. 'And
+we have a new cook, and I specially, _most_ specially told her to have
+dinner ready punctually at half-past seven! This world is indeed a place
+of trial!'
+
+Sir Charles's natural air of command seemed to disappear in the presence
+of Lady Cannon. He murmured a graceful apology, saying he would not
+dress. Nothing annoyed, even shocked her more than to see her husband
+dining opposite her in a frock-coat. However, of two evils she chose the
+less. They went in to dinner.
+
+'I haven't had the opportunity yet of telling you my opinion of the play
+this afternoon,' she said. 'I found it interesting, and I wonder I
+hadn't seen it before.'
+
+'You sent back our stalls for the first night,' remarked Sir Charles.
+
+'Certainly I did. I dislike seeing a play until I have seen in the
+papers whether it is a success or not.'
+
+'Those newspaper fellows aren't always right,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'Perhaps not, but at least they can tell you whether the thing is a
+success. I should be very sorry to be seen at a failure. Very
+sorry indeed.'
+
+She paused, and then went on--
+
+'_James Wade's Trouble_ has been performed three hundred times, so it
+must be clever. In my opinion, it must have done an immense amount of
+harm--good, I mean. A play like that, so full of noble sentiments and
+high principles, is--to me--as good as a sermon!'
+
+'Oh, is it? I'm sorry I couldn't go,' said Sir Charles, feeling very
+glad.
+
+'I suppose it was the club, as usual, that made you late. Do you know, I
+have a great objection to clubs.'
+
+He nodded sympathetically.
+
+'That is to say, I thoroughly approve of your belonging to several. I'm
+quite aware that in your position it's the right thing to do, but I
+can't understand why you should ever go to them, having two houses of
+your own. And that reminds me, we are going down to Redlands tomorrow,
+are we not? I've had a little' (she lowered her voice) 'lumbago; a mere
+passing touch, that's all--and the change will cure me. I think you
+neglect Redlands, Charles. You seem to me to regard your
+responsibilities as a landowner with indifference bordering on aversion.
+You never seem amused down there--unless we have friends.'
+
+'We'll go tomorrow if you like,' said he.
+
+'That's satisfactory.'
+
+'I can easily put off the Duke,' he said thoughtfully, as he poured out
+more wine.
+
+She sprang up like a startled hare.
+
+'Put off the ... what are you talking about?'
+
+'Oh, nothing. The Duke of St Leonard's is giving a dinner at the club
+tomorrow, and I was going. But I can arrange to get out of it.'
+
+'Charles! I never heard of anything so absurd! You must certainly go to
+the dinner. How like you! How casual of you! For a mere trifle to offend
+the man who might be of the greatest use to you--politically.'
+
+'Politically! What do you mean? And it isn't a trifle when you've set
+your mind on going away tomorrow. I know you hate to change your
+plans, my dear.'
+
+'Certainly I do, but I shall not change my plans. I shall go down
+tomorrow, and you can join me on Friday.'
+
+'Oh, I don't think I'll do that,' said Sir Charles, rather
+half-heartedly. 'Why should you take the journey alone?'
+
+'But I shall not be alone. I shall have Danvers with me. You need have
+no anxiety. I beg of you, I _insist_, that you stay, and go to
+this dinner.'
+
+'Well, of course, if you make a point of it--'
+
+She smiled, well pleased at having got her own way, as she supposed.
+
+'That's right, Charles. Then you'll come down on Friday.'
+
+'By the early train,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'No, I should suggest your coming by the later train. It's more
+convenient to meet you at the station.'
+
+'Very well--as you like,' said he, inwardly a little astonished, as
+always, at the easy working of the simple old plan, suggesting what one
+does not wish to do in order to be persuaded into what one does.
+
+'And, by the way, I haven't heard you speak of Hyacinth lately. You had
+better go and see her. A little while ago you were always wasting your
+time about her, and I spoke to you about it, Charles--I think?'
+
+'I think you did,' said he.
+
+'But, though at one time I was growing simply tired of her name, I
+didn't mean that you need not look after her at _all_. Go and see her,
+and explain to her I can't possibly accompany you. Tell her I've got
+chronic lumbago very badly indeed, and I'm obliged to go to the country,
+but I shall certainly make a point of calling on her when I return. You
+won't forget, Charles?'
+
+'Certainly not.'
+
+'I should go oftener,' she continued apologetically, 'but I have such a
+great dislike to that companion of hers. I think Miss Yeo a most
+unpleasant person.'
+
+'She isn't really,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'I do wish we could get Hyacinth married,' said Lady Cannon. 'I know
+what a relief it would be to you, and it seems to me such an unheard-of
+thing for a young girl like that to be living practically alone!'
+
+'We've been through that before, Janet. Remember, there was nothing else
+to do unless she continued to live with us. And as your nerves can't
+even stand Ella--'
+
+Lady Cannon dropped the point.
+
+'Well, we must get her married,' she said again. 'What a good thing Ella
+is still so young! Girls are a dreadful responsibility,' and she swept
+graciously from the dining-room.
+
+Sir Charles took out an irritating little notebook of red leather, the
+sort of thing that is advertised when lost as 'of no value to anyone but
+the owner.' It was full of mysterious little marks and unintelligible
+little notes. He put down, in cabalistic signs, '_Hyacinth's dinner,
+eight o'clock._' He enjoyed writing her name, even in hieroglyphics.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+A Proposal
+
+
+'I say, Eugenia.'
+
+'Well, Cecil?'
+
+'Look here, Eugenia.'
+
+'What is it, Cecil?'
+
+'Will you marry me?'
+
+'I beg your pardon?'
+
+'Will you many me, Eugenia?'
+
+'_What_?'
+
+'You heard what I said. I asked you to marry me. Will you?'
+
+'_Certainly_ not! Most decidedly not! How can you ask such a ridiculous
+question!'
+
+The lady who thus scornfully rejected a proposal was no longer young,
+and had never been beautiful. In what exactly her attraction consisted
+was perhaps a mystery to many of those who found themselves under the
+charm. Her voice and smile were very agreeable, and she had a graceful
+figure. If she looked nearly ten years younger than her age (which was
+forty-four), this was in no way owing to any artificial aid, but to a
+kind of brilliant vitality, not a bouncing mature liveliness, but a
+vivid, intense, humorous interest in life that was and would always
+remain absolutely fresh. She was naturalness itself, and seemed
+unconscious or careless of her appearance. Nor did she have that
+well-preserved air of so many modern women who seem younger than their
+years, but seemed merely clever, amiable, very unaffected, and rather
+ill. She had long, veiled-looking brown eyes, turned up at the corners,
+which gave to her glance an amusing slyness. It was a very misleading
+physiognomical effect, for she was really unusually frank. She wore a
+dull grey dress that was neither artistic, becoming, nor smart. In fact,
+she was too charming to be dowdy, and too careless to be chic; she might
+have been a great celebrity.
+
+The young man who made the suggestion above recorded was fair and
+clean-shaven, tall and well-made, with clear-cut feature; in fact, he
+was very good-looking--good-looking as almost only an Englishman can be.
+Under a reserved, dandified manner, he tried unsuccessfully to conceal
+the fact that he was too intelligent for his type. He did not, however,
+quite attain his standard of entire expressionlessness; and his bright,
+light-blue eyes and fully-curved lips showed the generous and emotional
+nature of their owner. At this moment he seemed very much out of temper.
+
+They were sitting in a dismal little drawing-room in one of the smallest
+houses in a dreary street in Belgravia. The room was crowded with
+dateless, unmeaning furniture, and disfigured by muddled, mistaken
+decoration. Its designer, probably, had meant well, but had been very
+far from carrying out his meaning. There were too many things in the
+room, and most of them were wrong. It would be unjust, however, to
+suppose Mrs Raymond did not know this. Want of means, and indifference,
+or perhaps perverseness, had caused her to leave the house unchanged
+since his death as a sort of monument to poor Colonel Raymond's
+erring taste.
+
+'You might just as well marry me as not,' said Cecil, in his level
+voice, but with pleading eyes. He made the gesture of trying to take her
+hand, but she took hers away.
+
+'You are very pressing, Cecil, but I think not. You know perfectly
+well--I'm sure I make no secret of it--that I'm ten years older than
+you. Old enough to be your mother! Am I the sort of person who would
+take advantage of the fancy of a gilded youth? And, now I come to think
+of it, your proposal's quite insulting. It's treating me like an
+adventuress! It's implying that you think I _would_ marry you!
+Apologise, and withdraw it at once, or I'll never speak to you again.'
+
+'This is nonsense. To begin with,' said Cecil, 'I may be a little
+gilded--not so very--but I'm far from being a youth. I'm thirty-four.'
+
+'Yes, I know! That's just the absurd part,' she answered inconsequently.
+'It's not as if you were a mere boy and didn't know better! And you know
+how I _hate_ this sort of thing.'
+
+'I know you do, and very likely I wouldn't have worried about marrying
+at all if you had been nicer to me--in other ways. You see, you brought
+it on yourself!'
+
+'What _do_ you mean? I _am_ nice. Don't you come here whenever you
+like--or nearly? Didn't I dine with you once--a year or two ago? I
+forget, but I think I did.'
+
+'You never did,' he answered sharply.
+
+'Then it must have been with somebody else. Of course I didn't. I
+shouldn't dream of such a thing.'
+
+'Someone else! Yes, of course; that's it. Well, I want you to marry me,
+Eugenia, because I want to get you away from everyone else. You see
+my point?'
+
+She laughed. 'Oh, jealousy! That's the last straw. Do you know that
+you're a nuisance, Cecil?'
+
+'Because I love you?' he said, trying to look into her sly Japanese
+eyes.
+
+She avoided his glance.
+
+'Because you keep on bothering. Always writing, always telephoning,
+always calling! As soon as I've disposed of _one_ invitation or excuse
+to meet, you invent another. But this last idea is quite too
+exasperating.' She spoke more gently. 'Don't you know, Cecil, that I've
+been a widow for years? Would I be so ridiculous as to marry again? Why,
+the one thing I can't stand is being interfered with! I prefer, far
+prefer, being poor and alone to that. Now what I want you to do is to
+marry someone else. I have an idea who I should like it to be, but I
+won't talk about it now. It's the most charming girl in the world. I
+shan't tell you her name, that would be tactless. It's that lovely Miss
+Verney, of course. She's much too good for you--an heiress, a beauty,
+and an orphan! But she's wonderful; and she really deserves you.'
+
+He stopped her.
+
+'How heartless you are!' he said admiringly.
+
+'Really not, Cecil. I'm very fond of you. I'd be your best friend if
+you'd let me, but I shan't speak to you again or receive you at all
+unless you promise not to repeat that nonsense about marrying. I know
+how horridly obstinate you are! Please remember it's out of the
+question.'
+
+At this moment the servant brought in a letter to Mrs Raymond. As she
+read it, Cecil thought she changed colour.
+
+'It's only a line from Sir Charles Cannon,' she said.
+
+'What's he writing about?'
+
+'Really, Cecil! What right have you to ask? I certainly shan't say. It's
+about his ward, if you must know. And now I think you'd better go, if
+you will make these violent scenes.'
+
+He stood up.
+
+'You must let me come soon again,' he said rather dejectedly. 'I'll try
+not to come tomorrow. Shall I?'
+
+'Yes, do try--not to come, I mean. And will you do everything I tell
+you?'
+
+'I suppose it will please you if I dine with Hyacinth Verney this
+evening? She asked me yesterday. I said I was half-engaged, but would
+let her know.'
+
+'Yes, it _would_ please me very much indeed,' said Mrs Raymond. 'Please
+do it, and try to know her better. She's sweet. I don't know her, but--'
+
+'All right. If you'll be nice to me. Will you?'
+
+She was reading the letter again, and did not answer when he said
+good-bye and left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+The Little Ottleys
+
+
+'Edith, I want you to look nice tonight, dear; what are you going to
+wear?'
+
+'My Other Dress,' said Edith.
+
+'Is it all right?'
+
+'It ought to be. Would you like to know what I've done to it? I've cut
+the point into a square, and taken four yards out of the skirt; the
+chiffon off my wedding-dress has been made into kimono sleeves; then I'm
+going to wear my wedding-veil as a sort of scarf thrown carelessly over
+the shoulders; and I've turned the pointed waist-band round, so that
+it's quite _right_ and short-waisted at the back now, and--'
+
+'Oh, don't tell me the horrible details! I think you might take a little
+interest in _me_. I thought of wearing a buttonhole. Though you may have
+forgotten it now, before I was a dull old married man, I was supposed to
+dress rather well, Edith.'
+
+'I know you were.'
+
+'I thought I'd wear a white carnation.'
+
+'I should wear two--one each side. It would be more striking.'
+
+'That's right! Make fun of me! I hope you'll be ready in time. They dine
+at eight, you know.'
+
+'Bruce, you're not going to begin to dress yet, are you? It's only just
+four.'
+
+He pretended not to hear, and said peevishly--
+
+'I suppose they don't expect _us_ to ask _them_? I daresay it's well
+known we can't return all the hospitality we receive.'
+
+'I daresay it is.'
+
+'It's awful not having a valet,' said Bruce.
+
+'But it would be more awful if we had,' said Edith. 'Where on earth
+could we put him--except in the bathroom?'
+
+'I don't think you'll look you're best tonight,' he answered rather
+revengefully.
+
+'Give me a chancel Wait till I've waved my hair!'
+
+He read the paper for a little while, occasionally reading aloud
+portions of it that she had already read, then complained that she took
+no interest in public events.
+
+'What do you think Archie brought home today,' she said to change the
+subject, 'in his Noah's Ark? Two snails!' She laughed.
+
+'Revolting! _I_ don't know where he gets his tastes from. Not from _my_
+family, that I'm quite sure.' He yawned ostentatiously.
+
+'I think I shall have a rest,' Bruce said presently. 'I had a very bad
+night last night. I scarcely slept at all.'
+
+'Poor boy!' Edith said kindly. She was accustomed to the convention of
+Bruce's insomnia, and it would never have occurred to her to appear
+surprised when he said he hadn't closed his eyes, though she happened to
+know there was no cause for anxiety. If he woke up ten minutes before he
+was called, he thought he had been awake all night; if he didn't he saw
+symptoms of the sleeping sickness.
+
+She arranged cushions on the sofa and pulled the blinds down. A minute
+later he turned on the electric light and began to read again. Then he
+turned it out, pulled up the blinds, and called her back.
+
+'I want to speak to you about my friend Raggett,' he said seriously.
+'I've asked him to dinner here tomorrow. What shall we have?'
+
+'Oh, Bruce! Let's wait and settle tomorrow.'
+
+'You don't know Raggett, but I think you'll like him. I _think_ you
+will. In any case, there's no doubt Raggett's been remarkably decent to
+me. In fact, he's a very good sort.'
+
+'Fancy!' said Edith.
+
+'Why do you say fancy?' he asked irritably.
+
+'I don't exactly know. I must say something. I'm sure he's nice if he's
+a friend of yours, dear.'
+
+'He's a clever chap in his way. At least, when I say clever, I don't
+mean clever in the ordinary sense.'
+
+'Oh, I see,' said Edith.
+
+'He's very amusing,' continued Bruce. 'He said a very funny thing to me
+the other day. Very funny indeed. It's no use repeating it, because
+unless you knew all the circumstances and the _characters_ of the people
+that he told the story of, you wouldn't see the point. Perhaps, after
+all, I'd better ask him to dine at the club.'
+
+'Oh no! Let him come here. Don't you think I'm worthy to see Raggett?'
+
+'Oh nonsense, dear, I'm very proud of you,' said Bruce kindly. 'It isn't
+exactly that.... Mind you, Raggett's quite a man of the world--and yet
+he _isn't_ a man of the world, if you know what I mean.'
+
+'I see,' said Edith again.
+
+'I can't decide whether to ask him here or not,' said Bruce, walking up
+and down the room in agitation.
+
+'Well, suppose we leave it till tomorrow. You can make up your mind
+then,' she said good-naturedly.
+
+Edith was dressed, when she found Bruce still in the throes of an
+agitated toilet. Having lost his collar-stud, he sat down and gave
+himself up to cold despair.
+
+'You go without me,' he said in a resigned voice. 'Explain the
+reason--no, don't explain it. Say I've got influenza--but then perhaps
+they'll think you ought to look after me, and--'
+
+'Here it is!' said Edith.
+
+
+In the cab he recovered suddenly, and told her she looked awfully
+pretty, which cheered her very much. She was feeling rather tired. She
+had spent several hours in the nursery that day, pretending to be a baby
+giraffe with so much success that Archie had insisted upon countless
+encores, until, like all artists who have to repeat the same part too
+often, she felt the performance was becoming mechanical.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Hyacinth's Little Dinner
+
+
+'The little Ottleys,' as they were called (they were a tall,
+fine-looking couple), found themselves in a small circle of people who
+were all most pleasing to the eye, with the single exception of Miss
+Yeo. And even she, in a markedly elegant dress of a peculiarly vicious
+shade of green, had her value in the picture. A little shocked by the
+harshness of the colour, one's glance turned with relief to Hyacinth, in
+satin of a blue so pale that it looked like the reflection of the sky in
+water. A broad, pale blue ribbon was wound in and out of her brown hair
+in the Romney fashion. Of course she looked her best. Women always do if
+they wish to please one man when others are there, and she was in the
+slightly exalted frame of mind that her reflection in the mirror had
+naturally given her.
+
+The faint atmosphere of chaperonage that always hung about Sir Charles
+in Hyacinth's house did not interfere with his personal air of enjoying
+an escapade, nor with his looking distinguished to the very verge of
+absurdity. As to Cecil, the reaction from his disappointment of the
+afternoon had made him look more vivid than usual. He was flushed
+with failure.
+
+He talked rather irresponsibly, and looked at Hyacinth, his neighbour at
+dinner, with such obvious appreciation, that her gaiety became
+infectious. In the little panelled dining-room which, like all the
+house, was neither commonplace nor bizarre, but simple and
+distinguished, floated an atmosphere of delightful ease and intimacy.
+
+Sir Charles admired the red roses, which Anne declared she had bought
+for two-and-threepence.
+
+'Very ingenious,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'I _am_ ingenious and clever,' said Anne. 'I get my cleverness from my
+father, and my economy from my mother. My father's a clergyman, but his
+wife was a little country girl--a sort of Merry Peasant; like Schumann's
+piece, you know. Peasants are always merry.'
+
+'I fancy that's a myth,' said Cecil. 'If not, I've been singularly
+unfortunate, for all the peasants _I_ ever ran across seemed most
+depressed.'
+
+'Of course, if you ran over them!' said Hyacinth.
+
+'But I didn't exactly run over them; I only asked them the way to
+somewhere. They _were_ angry! Now I come to think of it, though, they
+weren't peasants at all. It was only one man. He was a shepherd. I got
+to know him better afterwards, and he was rather a good chap. Shepherds
+don't have a bad time; they just wear ribbons and crooks and dance with
+shepherdesses, you know.'
+
+'Oh, then _can_ you tell me why a red sky at night is a shepherd's
+delight?' asked Hyacinth. 'Is it because it's a sign of rain, and he
+needn't look after the sheep, but can go fast asleep like little
+Bo-peep--or was it little Boy Blue--if he likes?'
+
+'For you, I'll try to find out; but I'm ashamed to say I know very
+little of natural history--or machinery, or lots of other interesting
+things. And, what's far worse, I don't even want to know any more. I
+like to think there are some mysteries left in life.'
+
+'I quite agree with you that it would be rather horrid to know exactly
+how electricity works, and how trains go, and all that sort of thing. I
+like some things just to _happen_. I never broke my dolls to see what
+they were made of. I had them taken away the _moment_ any sawdust began
+to come out,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'You were perfectly right, Miss Verney. You're an Idealist; at least,
+you don't like practical details. But still you take a great interest in
+other people psychologically. You want to know, I'm sure, just how a
+shepherd really feels, and why he feels it. I don't even care for that,
+and I'm not very keen on scenery, or places either, or even things. My
+Uncle Ted's so frightfully fond of Things. He's a collector, you know,
+and I don't sympathise a bit. In fact, I hate things.'
+
+'You seem rather difficult to please, Mr Reeve. What do you like?'
+
+'People; at least, some people. Don't you?'
+
+'Do you like people who talk nonsense?'
+
+'Yes, and still more people who listen to it charmingly,' he answered.
+'I didn't know before tonight that you ever listened to nonsense or
+talked it. I always thought you were the person who solves all the Hard
+Cases in _Vanity Fair_--under different names.'
+
+'I wonder you didn't think I won all the prizes in the Limericks,' said
+Hyacinth.
+
+'I have my faults, Miss Verney, but I'm not blasphemous. Will you have
+an olive?'
+
+She accepted it. He lowered his voice to say--
+
+'How wonderful you're looking tonight!'
+
+'What am I to say to that? I don't think people should make unanswerable
+remarks at dinner,' she said, trying to look reproving, but turning pink
+with pleasure.
+
+'If people will look adorable at dinner--or anywhere--they must take the
+consequences,' said Cecil, under cover of a very animated discussion
+between Bruce and Miss Yeo on sixpenny cab-fares.
+
+Then for a second he felt a remorseful twinge of disloyalty. But that
+was nonsense; wasn't he obeying Mrs Raymond's distinct commands? Nothing
+would please her so much....
+
+And to flirt with Hyacinth was not at all a disagreeable task. He
+reflected that Eugenia might have asked him to do something a good
+deal harder.
+
+Under the combined influence, then, of duty, pique, and a little
+champagne, he gave way to the curious fascination that Hyacinth had
+always had for him, and she was only too ready to be happy.
+
+He remembered how he had first met her. He had been dragged to the
+Burlingtons' dance--he loathed all large parties--and, looking drearily
+round, he'd been struck by, and asked to be introduced to, Miss Verney.
+She wasn't Eugenia, of course, and could never, he was sure, be part of
+his life. He thought that Eugenia appealed to his better nature and to
+his intellect.
+
+He felt even a little ashamed of the purely sensuous attraction Hyacinth
+possessed for him, while he was secretly very proud of being in love
+with Mrs Raymond. Not everyone would appreciate Eugenia! Cecil was still
+young enough to wish to be different from other people, while desiring
+still more, like all Englishmen, to _appear_ as much as possible like
+everybody else.
+
+He did not thoroughly understand Hyacinth; he couldn't quite place her.
+She was certainly not the colourless _jeune fille_ idealised by the
+French, but she had even less of the hard abruptness of the ordinary
+young unmarried Englishwoman. She called herself a bachelor girl, but
+hadn't the touch of the Bohemian that phrase usually seems to imply. She
+was too plastic, too finished. He admired her social dexterity, her
+perfect harmony with the charming background she had so well arranged
+for herself. Yet, he thought, for such a young girl, only twenty-two,
+she was too complex, too civilised. Mrs Raymond, for instance, seemed
+much more downright and careless. He was growing somewhat bewildered
+between his analysis of her character and his admiration for her mouth,
+an admiration that was rather difficult to keep entirely cool and
+theoretical, and that he felt a strong inclination to show in some more
+practical manner.... With a sigh he turned to Edith Ottley, his other
+neighbour.
+
+
+As soon as Anne had locked up she removed with the greatest care her
+emerald dress, which she grudged wearing a second longer than was
+necessary, and put on an extraordinary dressing-gown, of which it was
+hardly too much to say that there was probably not another one exactly
+like it in Europe. Hyacinth always said it had been made out of an old
+curtain from the Rev Mr Yeo's library in the Devonshire Rectory, and
+Anne did not deny it.
+
+She then screwed up her hair into a tight knot, put one small piece of
+it into a curling pin, which she then pinned far back on her head (as if
+afraid that the effect on the forehead would be too becoming), took off
+her dainty green shoes, put on an enormous pair of grotesque slippers,
+carpet slippers (also a relic), and went into Hyacinth's room. Anne made
+it a rule every evening to go in for a few minutes to see Hyacinth and
+talk against everyone they had seen during the day. She seemed to regard
+it as a sacred duty, almost like saying her prayers. Hyacinth sometimes
+professed to find this custom a nuisance, but she would certainly have
+missed it. Tonight she was smiling happily to herself, and took no
+notice of Anne's entrance.
+
+'I suppose you think it went off well,' said Anne aggressively.
+
+'Didn't it?'
+
+'I thought the dinner was ridiculous. A young girl like you asking two
+or three friends needn't have a banquet fit for a Colonial Conference.
+Besides, the cook lost her head. She sent up the same dish twice.'
+
+'Did she? How funny! How was that?'
+
+'Of course, _you_ wouldn't know. She and the kitchenmaid were playing
+Diabolo till the last minute in the housekeeper's room. However, you
+needn't worry; nobody noticed it.'
+
+'That's all right. Didn't Edith look pretty?'
+
+Anne poked the fire spitefully.
+
+'Like the outside of a cheap chocolate-box.'
+
+'Oh, Anne, what nonsense! Bruce seemed irritable, and fatuous. I didn't
+envy Edith going back with him.'
+
+'Bruce was jealous of Cecil Reeve, of course. You hardly looked at
+anybody else.'
+
+'Anne, really tonight there were one or two little things that made me
+think he is beginning to like me. I don't say he's perfect; I daresay he
+has his faults. But there's something I like about his face. I wonder
+what it is.'
+
+'I know what it is, he's very good-looking,' said Anne.
+
+'Do you think he cares for me?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Oh, Anne!'
+
+'I think, perhaps, he will, in time--in a way.'
+
+'Do you think if I were very careful not to show I liked him it would be
+better?'
+
+'No, there's only one chance for you.'
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'Keep on hammering.'
+
+'_Indeed_ I shan't! I never heard of such a thing. I suppose you think
+there's somebody else?' said Hyacinth, sitting up angrily.
+
+'Oh, I daresay he's just finishing off with someone or other, and you
+may catch him on the rebound.'
+
+'What horrid things you say!'
+
+'I only say what I think,' said Anne. 'Anyhow, you had a success
+tonight, I could see, because poor Charles seemed so depressed. Why do
+you have all these electric lights burning when one lamp would
+be enough?'
+
+'Oh, go away, Anne, and don't bother,' said Hyacinth, laughing.
+
+
+On his return home, Cecil suddenly felt a violent reaction in favour of
+Mrs Raymond. Certainly he had enjoyed his evening with Hyacinth, but it
+was very bitter to him to think what pleasure that enjoyment would have
+given to Eugenia.... He began to think he couldn't live without her.
+Something must be done. Further efforts must be made. The idea struck
+him that he would go and see his uncle, Lord Selsey, about it. He knew
+Uncle Ted was really fond of him, and wouldn't like to see his life
+ruined (so he put it to himself), and his heart broken, though he also
+probably would disapprove from the worldly point of view. Decidedly
+unhappy, yet to a certain extent enjoying his misery, Cecil went
+to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Lord Selsey
+
+
+The mere thought of confiding in Lord Selsey was at once soothing and
+bracing. He was a widower with no children, and Cecil was by way of
+being his heir. Since the death of his wife he lived in a kind of
+cultured retirement in a large old house standing a little by itself in
+Cambridge Gate. He used to declare that this situation combined all the
+advantages of London and the country, also that the Park that was good
+enough for the Regent was good enough for him. He had a decided cult for
+George IV; and there was even more than a hint of Beau Brummel in his
+dress. The only ugly thing in the house was a large coloured print of
+the pavilion at Brighton.
+
+
+In many ways Lord Selsey was Cecil's model; and unconsciously, in his
+uncle's suave presence, the young man's manner always became more
+expressive and his face more inscrutable.
+
+Lord Selsey was remarkably handsome; the even profile, well-shaped head,
+and blond colouring were much the same in uncle and nephew, the uncle's
+face having, perhaps, a more idealistic cast. The twenty years'
+difference in age had only given the elder man a finer, fairer, more
+faded look, and the smooth light hair, still thick, was growing grey.
+
+
+Cecil was not surprised to find his uncle sitting in his smoking-room,
+smoking, and not reading the morning paper. He was looking over his
+collection of old coins. At a glance he saw by Cecil's excessive
+quietness that the boy, as he called him, was perturbed, so he talked
+about the coins for some minutes.
+
+Cecil made little attempt to conceal that fact that Things bored him.
+
+'Well, what is it?' said Lord Selsey abruptly.
+
+Cecil couldn't think of anything better by way of introducing the
+trouble than the vaguely pessimistic statement that everything was
+rather rotten.
+
+'You don't gamble, you're not even very hard up.... It's a woman, of
+course,' said Lord Selsey, 'and you want to marry, I suppose, or you
+wouldn't come to me about it.... Who is she?'
+
+Cecil gave a rough yet iridescent sketch of Mrs Raymond.
+
+'Of course she's older than I am, but it doesn't make the slightest
+difference. She's been a widow ever since she was twenty. She's very
+hard up, and she doesn't care. She's refused me, but I want to make her
+come round.... No, she isn't _pretty_, not very.'
+
+Lord Selsey put his old coins away, and leant back in his chair.
+
+'I should like to see her,' he said thoughtfully.
+
+'I'm sure of one thing, uncle you could never have any vulgar,
+commonplace ideas about her--I mean, she's so _peculiarly_
+disinterested, and all that sort of thing. You mustn't fancy she's a
+dangerous syren, don't you know, or.... For instance, she doesn't care
+much for dress; she just sticks up her hair anyhow, and parts it in
+the middle.'
+
+'Then it would certainly be difficult to believe anything against her,'
+said Lord Selsey.
+
+'Besides, she really wants me to marry someone else.'
+
+'Who?'
+
+'She's always trying to persuade me to propose to Hyacinth Verney ...
+you know, that pretty girl, old Cannon's ward.... She is awfully pretty,
+of course, I know.'
+
+'I should like to see her,' said Lord Selsey.
+
+Cecil smiled. It was well known that Lord Selsey was a collector. Though
+no-one could have less of the pompous, fatuous vanity of the Don Juan,
+beauty had always played, and always would play, a very prominent part
+in his life. It was, in fact, without exception, his greatest pleasure,
+and interest--even passion. The temperament that gave to beauty and
+charm a rather inordinate value had, no doubt, descended to his nephew.
+But Cecil was, in that as in everything else, much less of a dilettante.
+
+'You actually want me to advise you to persuade Mrs Raymond to marry
+you? My dear boy, how can I?'
+
+'How is it you don't say she's quite right not to?' asked Cecil
+curiously.
+
+'From her point of view I think she's quite wrong. As you're both
+practically free and you would marry her tomorrow--or this afternoon for
+choice--if she cared for you she would probably do it. Where I think
+she's wrong is in not caring for you.... Who is it?'
+
+'I don't believe it's anyone. Eugenia's peculiar; she's very
+independent, very fantastic. She likes to do whatever comes into her
+head. She's very fascinating ... but I shouldn't be at all surprised if
+she's absolutely cold; I mean, really never could care for any man
+at all.'
+
+'I _should_ like to see her,' repeated Lord Selsey, his eyes
+brightening.
+
+'It's most awfully good of you, Uncle, the way you take it. I mean to
+say, I'm afraid I'm not at all asking your consent, you know, or
+anything of that sort, as I ought.'
+
+'You're asking my advice, and it's about the only thing most men of my
+age enjoy giving. Well, really, Cecil, and frankly, I think it's a
+dismal little story. It would be humbug if I pretended I was sorry about
+Mrs Raymond's--a--attitude, and I quite see its absolute genuineness
+But, if you'll excuse my saying so, what price the other girl?'
+
+'What price? No price.'
+
+'_She_ likes you,' said Lord Selsey acutely.
+
+'What makes you think that?'
+
+'Because otherwise you wouldn't be so cool about her. You're a little
+too frightened of being obvious, Cecil. I was like that, too. But don't
+give way to it. Hyacinth Verney--what a charming name! ... What would
+old Cannon say?'
+
+'I don't think he seems particularly keen on _me_,' said Cecil frankly.
+
+'That's odd. Then he must be very ambitious for her, or else be in love
+with her himself ... probably both.'
+
+'Oh, I say, Uncle Ted! Why, there's Lady Cannon! She's a very handsome,
+gigantic woman, and they have a daughter of their own, a girl called
+Ella, at school in Paris. She's pretty, too, only a flapper, you know,
+with a fair plait and a black bow.'
+
+'I should like to see her; what delightful families you get yourself
+mixed up with, Cecil! If I were you I should certainly cultivate the
+Verney girl. I know it's no use telling you to do the contrary, as I
+should if you weren't in your present frame of mind.'
+
+'I should _very_ much like you to meet Eugenia,' said Cecil.
+
+'Yes. How shall we arrange it? A dinner at the Savoy or something?'
+
+'No. Somehow that isn't the kind of thing she'd like,' said Cecil.
+
+'I thought not. But if I suddenly go and call on her, even with you,
+wouldn't it make it too much of a family affair? And I should be so
+afraid of having the air of trying to persuade her to give you up. I
+don't want to make a fool of myself, you know.'
+
+Cecil seemed a little stung, though he smiled.
+
+'If she knew you, perhaps it would make her more interested in me!'
+
+'Do you think she'd come and hear some music here,' said Lord Selsey,
+'if I wrote and asked her?'
+
+'Yes, I think she might. There's no nonsense about her--about etiquette
+and things of that sort, I mean.'
+
+'Then that's settled. You tell her about it, and I'll write. On Thursday
+afternoon. The two young pianists, George Ranger and Nevil Butt, are
+coming, and the little girl, the new Russian singer.'
+
+'A juvenile party?' asked Cecil, laughing.
+
+'No, only two or three people.'
+
+'Two or three hundred, I suppose. Well, I'll get Mrs Raymond to come.
+Thanks so much.'
+
+They shook hands with more than cordiality. As Cecil went out his uncle
+said--
+
+'You've been most interesting this morning. But the other girl's the
+one, you know. Don't neglect her.'
+
+He laughed, for he saw the young man was rather flattered at the notion.
+Evidently, Mrs Raymond was worth knowing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+The Peculiarities of Raggett
+
+
+'Oh, Bruce,' said Edith, as she looked up from a Sale Catalogue, 'I _do_
+wish you would be an angel and let me have a little cash to go to Naylor
+and Rope's. There are some marvellous bargains--spring novelties--there,
+and Archie absolutely _needs_ one or two things.'
+
+Bruce frowned and sat down to breakfast, rather heavily.
+
+'I object,' he said as he took his coffee, 'on principle--purely on
+principle--to spring sales. Women buy a lot of things they don't want,
+and ruin their husbands under the ridiculous impression they're buying
+bargains.'
+
+'I won't ruin you, dear. I want to get Archie a coat--and a hat. I only
+want'--she watched his expression--' a sovereign--or two.' She smiled
+brightly, and passed him the toast.
+
+His manner softened.
+
+'Well, dear, you know I'm not a rich man, don't you?'
+
+'Yes, dear.'
+
+'But I should much prefer that you should get Archie's things at a
+first-rate place like Wears and Swells, where we have an account, and
+send me the bill. Will you do that?'
+
+'Of course I will, if you like; but it'll cost more.'
+
+She had often marvelled at a comparative lavishness about cheques that
+Bruce combined with a curious loathing to parting from any coin,
+however small.
+
+'Then that's settled. And now I want to speak to you about Raggett.'
+
+He paused, and then said seriously, 'I've absolutely decided and very
+nearly made up my mind to have Raggett to dinner tonight at the Savoy.'
+
+'The Savoy?'
+
+'Yes, yes; no doubt this little flat is very comfortable'--he looked
+round the room with marked disdain--'and cook, thanks to you, isn't half
+_bad_ ... but one can't give _dinners_ here! And after all I've said to
+Raggett--oh, one thing and another--I fancy I've given him the
+impression of a rather luxurious home. It won't matter if he calls here
+in the afternoon some day, but for a man like that, I'd rather--yes--the
+Savoy. You look as if you objected. Do you?'
+
+'Not at all. It'll be rather fun. But I'm so glad you can afford it. We
+haven't an _account_ there, you know.'
+
+'I propose to make a slight sacrifice for once.... I will engage a table
+and telephone to Raggett. Women never understand that to do things well,
+once in a way, is sometimes a--a very good thing,' he finished
+rather lamely.
+
+'All right. I _am_ getting curious to see Raggett!'
+
+'My dear Edith, he's nothing particular to _see_, but he's a man who
+might be--very useful.'
+
+'Oh, shall you take a private room?'
+
+'I don't think so. Why? You can wear what you wore last night.... You
+looked quite nice in it, and you can take it from me, once for all'--he
+got up, looked in the glass, and said--'that _Raggett's all right_. Now,
+tell cook we're dining out. She might have a holiday tonight. A change
+may do her good; and I shall hope to find the omelette less leathery
+tomorrow.'
+
+Edith did not point out that Bruce, after specially ordering breakfast
+punctually at nine, had come down at half-past ten.
+
+'And now I must go.... The dinner was charming last night. It was only
+spoilt by that empty-headed fool--what's his name--Reeve, who was
+obviously making up to Hyacinth. Anyone can see she only endures his
+attentions from politeness, of course. He knows nothing about anything.
+I found _that_ out when we were smoking after dinner; and one can't get
+a word out of old Cannon.'
+
+Edith was putting Bruce's writing-table in order when she found an open
+letter in the blotting-book, glanced at the signature, and saw that it
+was from Raggett. So she eagerly read it, hoping to get some further
+light on the mysterious man in whose honour Bruce was prepared to offer
+so extravagant a festivity.
+
+It was written on a rough sheet of paper, with no address. The
+handwriting was small, compressed, and very untidy. It ran.--
+
+'DEAR OTTLEY,
+
+'Y'rs to hand. I shall be glad to dine with you, as I have told you
+several times, and I would accept your invitation with pleasure if I
+knew when and where the dinner was to be. These two points you have
+always avoided mentioning.
+
+'Y'rs truly,
+
+J.R. RAGGETT'
+
+
+It struck Edith that it was quite extraordinary, after so many
+descriptions from Bruce--some vivid, some sketchy, others subtly
+suggestive--how little she could imagine Raggett.
+
+Notwithstanding quantities of words, nothing, somehow, had ever come out
+to throw the least glimmer of light either on his character,
+personality, or walk of life. Not bad, all right, useful, rather
+wonderful, but quite ordinary and nothing particular, were some of the
+phrases she recalled. She had never been told anything about his age,
+nor his appearance, nor how long Bruce had known him. She had only
+gathered that he wasn't athletic like Goldthorpe (Bruce's golf
+companion), and that he wasn't in the Foreign Office, and didn't belong
+to Bruce's club. Where, how, and when could he be useful?
+
+If she seemed bored when Bruce was enthusiastic about him, he was
+offended; but if she seemed interested and asked leading questions, he
+became touchy and cautious, almost jealous. Sometimes she had begun to
+think that Raggett was a Mrs Harris--that there was no such person.
+There, evidently, she had been wrong.
+
+
+At eight o'clock that evening, on arriving at the Savoy, Edith decided
+not to take off her cloak (on the ground of chilliness, but really
+because it was smarter and more becoming than her dress). Therefore she
+waited in the outer room while Bruce, who seemed greatly excited, and
+had given her various contradictory tips about how to behave to their
+guest, was taking off his coat. Several other people were waiting there.
+She saw herself in the glass--a pretty, fair, typically English-looking
+woman, with neatly-chiselled features, well-arranged _blond-cendre_
+hair, a tall, slight figure, and a very thin neck. She noticed, among
+the other people waiting, a shabby-looking man of about thirty-five, who
+looked so intensely uncomfortable that she pitied him. He had a vague,
+rough, drab beard, colourless hair, which was very thick in front and
+very thin at the back, quite indefinite features, an undecided
+expression, and the most extraordinary clothes she had ever seen. The
+shirt-front was soft, and was in large bulging pleats. He wore an
+abnormal-looking big black tie, and the rest of the costume suggested a
+conjurer who had arrived at a children's party in the country and had
+forgotten his dress-suit, and borrowed various portions of it from
+different people staying in the house, who were either taller or shorter
+than himself. The waistcoat ended too soon, and the coat began too late;
+the collar reminded one of Gladstone; while the buttonhole of orchids
+(placed, rather eccentrically, very low down on the coat) completed the
+general effect of political broadmindedness, combined with acute
+social anxiety.
+
+He looked several times at Edith with a furtive but undisguised
+admiration. Then Bruce appeared, held out his hand cordially, and said,
+'Ah, Raggett, here you are!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+A Musical Afternoon
+
+
+Lord Selsey often said he disapproved of the ordinary subdivisions of a
+house, and, especially as he lived alone, he did not see why one should
+breakfast in a breakfast-room, dine in a dining-room, draw in a
+drawing-room, and so on. Nevertheless, he had one special room for
+music. There was a little platform at the end of it, and no curtains or
+draperies of any kind to obscure or stifle sound. A frieze of Greek
+figures playing various instruments ran round the walls, which were
+perfectly plain so that nothing should distract the eye from the
+pleasures of the ear; but he was careful to avoid that look of a
+concert-room given by rows of chairs (suggesting restraint and reserved
+guinea seats), and the music-room was furnished with comfortable lounges
+and led into a hall containing small Empire sofas, in which not more
+than two persons could be seated. Therefore the audience at his
+entertainments often enjoyed themselves almost as much as the
+performers, which is rare.
+
+This afternoon there was the usual number of very tall women in large
+highly-decorated hats, smooth-haired young men in coats that went in at
+the waist, a very few serious amateurs with longish hair, whose
+appearance did not quite come up to the standard of the _Tailor and
+Cutter_, and a small number of wistful professional feminine artists in
+no collars and pince-nez--in fact, the average fashionable, artistic
+crowd. The two young geniuses, George Ranger and Nevil Butt, had just
+given their rather electrifying performance, one playing the
+compositions of the other, and then both singing Faure together, and a
+small band of Green Bulgarians were now playing strenuously a symphony
+of Richard Strauss, when Cecil and Mrs Raymond appeared together. Lord
+Selsey received her as if she had been an old friend. When they shook
+hands they felt at once, after one glance at Cecil and then at each
+other, that they were more than friends--they were almost accomplices.
+
+By one of those fortunate social accidents that are always occurring in
+London, Lord Selsey had met Hyacinth and Anne Yeo at a party the day
+before, had been introduced to them, and invited them to hear Ranger and
+Butt. Hyacinth, aware she was to meet Mrs Raymond, wore her loveliest
+clothes and sweetest expression, though she could not keep out of her
+eyes a certain anxiety, especially when she saw that Cecil greeted her
+with a slight, cold embarrassment that was very different from his usual
+manner. He had not expected to meet Hyacinth, and resolved to avoid the
+introduction he knew she desired. But no man is a match for a woman in a
+detail of this sort. In the refreshment-room, where Cecil was pressing
+coffee on Mrs Raymond, Hyacinth walked in, accompanied by Anne, and
+stood not very far from him. He came up to her, as Hyacinth saw, at Mrs
+Raymond's instigation.
+
+'Can I get you anything, Miss Vemey? Some tea?'
+
+'Thanks, yes. Isn't that Mrs Raymond? I do wish you would introduce me
+to her.'
+
+Mrs Raymond came forward. Cecil murmured their names. They shook hands.
+Mrs Raymond looked at her with such impulsive admiration that she
+dropped a piece of cake. They spoke a few words about the music, and
+Cecil moved aside.
+
+Anne called him back, not wishing to see him spared anything.
+
+'You mustn't,' said Cecil, 'on any account miss the next thing. It is
+the wonderful new singer, don't you know--the little girl, Vera
+Schakoffsky.'
+
+'Oh, very well,' said Hyacinth. 'I'll go,' and she went on with Anne.
+But when they had returned to the music-room she said to Anne, 'I left
+my handkerchief,' and went back to the refreshment-room.
+
+A screen was by the door. Just before she had passed it she heard Mrs
+Raymond say--
+
+'What an angel! How can you not be at her feet? Go and talk to her at
+once, or I'll never speak to you again!'
+
+'I just shan't!' said Cecil doggedly. 'You make me simply ridiculous. If
+you won't be nice to me yourself, you needn't throw me at the head of
+other people.'
+
+Hyacinth turned back and went to the music-room again.
+
+Some time afterwards Cecil joined her, Mrs Raymond having apparently
+disappeared. The new tenor was singing an old song. Cecil sat down next
+to Hyacinth on a little Empire sofa.
+
+'Let me look at the programme,' he said. And as he took it from her he
+pressed her fingers. She snatched her hand angrily away.
+
+'Pray don't do that,' she said in a contemptuous tone. 'Even to obey Mrs
+Raymond, you needn't do violence to your feelings!'
+
+'Miss Verney! I beg your pardon! But what _do_ you mean?'
+
+'Surely you understand. And don't trouble to come and see me any more.'
+
+He looked at her. Her suave social dexterity had vanished. Her eyes were
+dark with purely human instinctive jealousy. They looked at each other a
+moment, then Lord Selsey came up and said--
+
+'I'm afraid my attempt at originality hasn't been quite a success. The
+concert's not as harmonious as I hoped. Come and have tea, Miss Verney.'
+
+
+Hyacinth did not speak a word to Anne on their way home, nor did she
+refer to the afternoon, nor answer any remark of Anne's on the subject
+till that evening, when Anne came into her room to complain of the
+electric light and make fun of Lord Selsey's guests. Then she found
+Hyacinth sobbing, and saying--
+
+'I shall get over it. I shall be all right tomorrow. I'm going to cut
+him out of my life!'
+
+'He'll soon cut in again,' said Anne.
+
+'Indeed he won't! I'm not going to be played with. Preferring an old
+Japanese who doesn't even _like_ him, and then making a fool of me!'
+
+'If she ran after him, and you begged him to stick to her, it would be
+the other way,' said Anne.
+
+'What do you mean? Hasn't he any real preference?'
+
+'Yes. He's attached to her, fond of her. She's utterly indifferent about
+him, so he's piqued. So he thinks that's being in love.'
+
+'Then why does he try to deceive me and flirt with me at all?'
+
+'He doesn't. You really attract him; you're suited to him physically and
+socially, perhaps mentally too. The suitability is so obvious that he
+doesn't like it. It's his feeling for you that he fights against, and
+especially because he sees you care for him.'
+
+'I was horrid enough to him today! I told him never to call here again.'
+
+'To show your indifference?'
+
+'I made him understand that I wanted no more of his silly flirtation,'
+said Hyacinth, still tearful.
+
+'If you _really_ made him think that, everything will be all right.'
+
+'Really, Anne, you're clever. I think I shall take your advice.'
+
+Anne gave a queer laugh.
+
+'I didn't know I'd given any, but I will. Whatever he does now, leave
+him alone!'
+
+'I should think so! Then why did you tell me the other day to keep on
+hammering?'
+
+'I was quite right the other day.'
+
+'Didn't I look nicer than Mrs Raymond?'
+
+'That's not the point. You talk as if you were rivals on the same
+platform. She's on a different plane. But he'll get tired in the end of
+her indifference and remember _you_,' added Anne sardonically.
+
+'Then he'll find I've forgotten _him_. Oh, why am I so unhappy?'
+
+'You're too emotional, but you'll be happy through that too. Please
+don't make your eyes red. There are other people in the world.
+Cecil Reeve--'
+
+'And yet there's something so fascinating about him. He's so unlike
+anybody else.'
+
+'Bosh!' said Anne. 'He's exactly like thousands of other young men. But
+it just happens you've taken a fancy to him; that's the only thing that
+makes him different.'
+
+'I hate him,' said Hyacinth. 'Do you dislike him, Anne?'
+
+'Dislike him?' said Anne, turning out one of the lights. 'No, indeed! I
+loathe him!'
+
+'But why?'
+
+Anne went to the door.
+
+'Because you're a fool about him,' she said somewhat cryptically.
+
+Hyacinth felt somewhat soothed, and resolved to think no more of Cecil
+Reeve. She then turned up the light again, took her writing materials,
+and wrote him three long letters, each of which she tore up. She then
+wrote once more, saying--
+
+'DEAR MR REEVE,
+
+'I shall be at home today at four. Do come round and see me.'
+
+
+She put it under her pillow, resolving to send it by a messenger the
+first thing in the morning, and went to sleep.
+
+But this letter, like the others, was never sent. By the morning light
+she marvelled at having written it, and threw it into the fire.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+The Troubles of the Ottleys
+
+
+'Bruce', said Edith, 'you won't forget we're dining with your people
+tonight?'
+
+'It's a great nuisance.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce!'
+
+'It's such an infernally long way.'
+
+'It's only to Kensington.'
+
+'West Kensington. It's off the map. I'm not an explorer--I don't pretend
+to be.' He paused a moment, then went on, 'And it's not only the
+frightful distance and the expense of getting there, but when I do get
+there.... Do you consider that my people treat me with proper
+deference?'
+
+'With proper _what?_' asked Edith.
+
+'Deference. I admit I like deference. I need it--I require it; and at my
+people's--well, frankly, I don't get it.'
+
+'If you need it,' said Edith, 'I hope you will get it. But remember they
+are your father and mother.'
+
+'What do you mean by that?'
+
+'Well, I mean they know you very well, of course ... and all that.'
+
+'Do you imply...?'
+
+'Oh, no, Bruce dear,' she answered hastily; 'of course I don't. But
+really I think your people are charming'
+
+'To _you_ I know they are,' said he. 'It's all very well for you. They are
+awfully fond of _you_. You and my mother can talk about Archie and his
+nurse and housekeeping and fashions, and it's very jolly for you, but
+where's the fun for a man of the world?'
+
+'Your father--' began Edith.
+
+'My father!' Bruce took a turn round the room. 'I don't mind telling
+you, Edith, I don't consider my father a man of the world. Why, good
+heavens! when we are alone together, what do you suppose he talks about?
+He complains! Finds fault, if you please! Says I don't work--makes out
+I'm extravagant! Have _you_ ever found me extravagant?'
+
+'No, indeed. I'm sure you've never been extravagant--to _me_.'
+
+'He's not on my level intellectually in any way. I doubt very much if
+he's capable of understanding me at all. Still, I suppose we might as
+well go and get it over. My people's dinners are a most awful bore
+to me.'
+
+'How would you like it,' said Edith gently, 'if some day Archie were to
+call us my people, and talk about us as you do of yours?'
+
+'Archie!' shouted Bruce. 'Good heavens! Archie!' Bruce held out his arm
+with a magnificent gesture. 'If Archie ever treats me with any want of
+proper deference, I shall cut him off with a shilling!'
+
+'Do give me the shilling for him now,' said Edith laughing.
+
+
+The elder Mrs Ottley was a sweet woman, with a resigned smile and a
+sense of humour. She had a great admiration for Edith, who was very fond
+of her. No-one else was there on this occasion. Bruce always complained
+equally, regarding it as a slight if they were asked alone, and a bore
+if it was a dinner party. The elder Mr Ottley was considerably older
+than his wife, and was a handsome, clean-shaven elderly man with a
+hooked nose and a dry manner. The conversation at dinner consisted of
+vague attempts on Bruce's part to talk airy generalities, which were
+always brought back by his father to personalities more or less
+unflattering to Bruce.
+
+Edith and Mrs Ottley, fearing an explosion, which happened rather
+frequently when Bruce and his father were together, combined their
+united energy to ward it off.
+
+'And what do you intend the boy to be when he grows up?' asked old Mr
+Ottley. 'Are you going to make him a useful member of society, or a
+Foreign Office clerk?'
+
+'I intend my son,' said Bruce--'(a little port, please. Thanks.)--I
+intend my son to be a Man of the World.'
+
+His father gave a slight snort.
+
+'Be very careful,' said Mrs Ottley to Edith, 'not to let the darling
+catch cold in his perambulator this weather. Spring is so treacherous!'
+
+'Does he seem to show any particular bent for anything? I suppose
+hardly--yet?'
+
+'Well, he's very fond of soldiers,' said Edith.
+
+'Ah!' said Mr Ottley approvingly; 'what we want for empire-building is
+conscription. Every fellow ought to be a soldier some time in his life.
+It makes men of them '--he glanced round rather contemptuously--'it
+teaches them discipline.'
+
+'I don't mean,' said Edith hastily, 'that he wants to _be_ a soldier.
+But he likes playing with them. He takes them to bed with him. It is as
+much as I can do to keep him from eating them.'
+
+'The angel!' said Mrs Ottley.
+
+'You must be careful about that, Edith,' said Bruce solemnly. 'I
+understand red paint is poisonous.'
+
+'It won't hurt him,' said old Mr Ottley, purely from a spirit of
+contradiction.
+
+'But he's just as fond of animals,' said Edith quickly, to avert a
+storm. 'That Noah's Ark you gave him is his greatest pleasure. He's
+always putting the animals in and taking them out again.'
+
+'Oh, the clever darling!' cried Mrs Ottley. 'You'd hardly believe it,
+Edith, but Bruce was like that when he was a little boy too. He
+used to--'
+
+'Oh mother, do shut up!' said Bruce shame-facedly.
+
+'Well, he was very clever,' said Mrs Ottley defiantly. 'You'd hardly
+think so now perhaps, but the things that child used to say!'
+
+'Don't spoil Archie as his mother spoilt Bruce,' said Mr. Ottley.
+
+'Have you seen the new play at His Majesty's?' asked Bruce.
+
+'No, I haven't. I went to the theatre _last_ year,' said old Mr Ottley.
+'_I_ haven't heaps of money to spend on superfluous amusements.'
+
+'Bruce, you're not eating anything,' said Mrs Ottley anxiously. 'Do try
+some of these almonds and raisins. They're so good! I always get almonds
+and raisins at Harrod's now.'
+
+Edith seemed much interested, and warmly assented to the simple
+proposition that they were the best almonds and raisins in the world.
+
+The ladies retired.
+
+'Most trying Mr Ottley's been lately,' said Mrs Ottley. 'Extremely
+worrying. Do you suppose I have had a single instant to go and order a
+new bonnet? Not a second! Has Bruce been tiresome at all?'
+
+'Oh, no, he doesn't mean to be,' said Edith.
+
+Mrs Ottley pressed her hand. 'Darling I _know_ what it is. What a sweet
+dress! You have the most perfect taste. I don't care what people say,
+those Empire dresses are most trying. I think you're so right not to
+give in to it as so many young women are doing. Fashion indeed! Hiding
+your waist under a bushel instead of being humbly thankful that you've
+got one! Archie is the sweetest darling. I see very little likeness to
+Bruce, or his father. I think he takes after _my_ family, with a great
+look of you, dear. Most unfortunately, his father thinks Bruce is a
+little selfish ... too fond of pleasure. But he's a great deal at home,
+isn't he, dear?'
+
+'Yes, indeed,' said Edith, with a slight sigh. 'I think it's only that
+he's always been a little bit spoilt. No wonder, the only son! But he's
+a great dear, really.'
+
+His mother shook her head. 'Dear loyal girl! I used to be like that too.
+May I give you a slight hint? Never contradict. Never oppose him. Agree
+with him, then he'll change his mind; or if he doesn't, say you'll do as
+he wishes, and act afterwards in the matter as your own judgement
+dictates. He'll never find it out. What's that?'
+
+A door banged, hasty steps were heard. Bruce came into the drawing-room
+alone, looking slightly flushed and agitated.
+
+'Where's your father?' asked Mrs Ottley.
+
+'Gone to his study.... We'd better be getting home, Edith.'
+
+Edith and Mrs Ottley exchanged glances. They had not been able to
+prevent the explosion after all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+At the National Gallery
+
+
+It was with considerable difficulty and self-restraint that Cecil
+succeeded in waiting till the next day to see Mrs Raymond after his
+uncle's party. He was of an age and of a temperament that made his love
+affairs seem to him supremely urgent and of more importance than
+anything else in his life.
+
+He called on Mrs Raymond at eleven in the morning on the pretext of
+having something important to tell her. He found her sitting at her
+writing-table in a kind of red kimono. Her hair was brushed straight off
+her forehead, her eyes were sly and bright, and she looked more Japanese
+than ever.
+
+Cecil told her what Hyacinth had said to him.
+
+'Now, you see, I _can't_ go on making up to her any more. She doesn't
+care a straw about me, and she sees through it, of course. I've done
+what you asked me. Won't you be nice to me now?'
+
+'Certainly not! She's quite devoted to you. Telling you not to go and
+see her again! I never heard of anything so encouraging in my life. Now,
+Cecil,' she spoke seriously, 'that girl is a rare treasure. It's not
+only that she's a perfect beauty, but I read her soul yesterday. She has
+a beautiful nature, and she's in love with you. You don't appreciate
+her. If you take what she said literally, you're much stupider than I
+gave you credit for being. I--I simply shan't see you again till you've
+made it up. When you know her better you _must_ care for her. Besides, I
+insist upon it. If you don't--well, you'll have to turn your attention
+somewhere else. For I seriously mean it. I won't see you.'
+
+He looked obstinate.
+
+'It's a fad of yours, Eugenia.'
+
+'It's not a fad of mine. It's an opportunity of yours--one that you're
+throwing away in the most foolish way, that you might regret all your
+life. At any rate, _I'm_ not going to be the cause of giving that poor
+darling another moment's annoyance or uneasiness. The idea of the
+angelic creature being worried about me! Why, it's preposterous! I'm
+sure she heard what I said to you when she came in behind the screen. I
+can't bear it, and I won't have it. Now go and see her, and you're not
+to come back till you have. I mean it.'
+
+'I don't suppose for a moment--'
+
+'Rubbish! A woman knows. She went home and cried; I know she did, and
+she's counting the minutes till you see her again. Now, I've lots to do,
+and you're frightfully in the way. Good-bye.' She held out her hand.
+
+He rose.
+
+'You send me away definitely?'
+
+'Definitely, Your liking for me is pure perverseness.'
+
+'It's pure adoration,' said Cecil.
+
+'I don't think so. It's imagination. However, whatever it is I don't
+want it.'
+
+'Good-bye, then,' said Cecil.
+
+He went to the door.
+
+'You can let me know when you've seen her.'
+
+'I don't suppose she'll see me.'
+
+'Yes, she will now. It's the psychological moment.'
+
+'You shan't be bothered with me any more, anyhow,' said Cecil in a low
+voice.
+
+'Good. And do what I tell you.'
+
+He shut the shabby door of the little house with a loud bang, and went
+out with a great longing to do something vaguely desperate.
+
+Lunch produced a different mood. He said to himself that he wouldn't
+think of Mrs Raymond any more, and went to call on Hyacinth.
+
+The servant told him she was out.
+
+He was just turning away when Anne Yeo came out. She glanced at him with
+malicious satisfaction.
+
+'Hyacinth's gone to the National Gallery,' she volunteered. 'Did you
+want to see her? You will find her there.'
+
+Cecil walked a few steps with her.
+
+'I'm going to the greengrocer's,' continued Anne, 'to complain.' She
+held a little book in her hand, and he noticed that she wore a golf cap,
+thick boots, and a mackintosh, although it was a beautiful day.
+
+'I always dress like this,' she said, 'when I'm going to complain of
+prices. Isn't it a glorious day? The sort of day when everyone feels
+happy and hopeful.'
+
+'I don't feel either,' said Cecil candidly.
+
+'No, you don't look it. Why not go and see some pictures?'
+
+He smiled. They parted at the corner.
+
+Then Cecil, without leaving any message for Hyacinth, jumped into a
+hansom, giving the man the address of his club in Pall Mall. On the way
+he changed his mind, and drove to the National Gallery. As he went up
+the steps his spirits rose. He thought he recognised Miss Verney's motor
+waiting outside. There was something of an adventure in following her
+here. He would pretend it was an accident, and not let her know yet that
+he had called.
+
+He wandered through the rooms, which were very empty, and came upon
+Hyacinth seated on a red velvet seat opposite a Botticelli.
+
+She looked more dejected than he could have thought possible, her type
+being specially formed to express the joy of life. It was impossible to
+help feeling a thrill of flattered vanity when he saw the sudden change
+in her expression and her deep blush when she recognised him.
+
+'I didn't know you ever came here,' she said, as they shook hands.
+
+'It's a curious coincidence I should meet you when, for once in my life,
+I come to study the Primitives,' said Cecil.
+
+He then seated himself beside her.
+
+'Don't you think all that '--he waved his hand towards the pictures--'is
+rather a superstition?'
+
+'Perhaps; but it's glorious, I think. These are the only pictures that
+give me perfect satisfaction. All others, however good they are, have
+the effect of making me restless,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'I haven't had a moment's rest,' said Cecil, 'since I saw you yesterday
+afternoon. Why were you so unkind?'
+
+'Was it unkind?' she asked. Her face was illuminated.
+
+They spent an hour together; had horrible tea in the dismal
+refreshment-room, and having agreed that it seemed a shame to spend a
+lovely day within these walls, he said--
+
+'I don't think I've ever met you out of doors--in the open air, I mean.'
+
+'It would be nice,' said Hyacinth.
+
+He proposed that they should do something unconventional and delightful,
+and meet the next day in Kensington Gardens, which he assured her was
+just as good as the country just now. She agreed, and they made an
+appointment.
+
+'How is Mrs Raymond?' she then asked abruptly.
+
+'I don't know. Mrs Raymond--she's charming, and a great friend of mine,
+of course; but we've quarrelled. At least I'm not going to see
+her again.'
+
+'Poor Mrs Raymond!' exclaimed Hyacinth. 'Or perhaps I ought to be sorry
+for you?'
+
+'No, not if you let me sec you sometimes.' He looked at her radiant face
+and felt the soothing, rather intoxicating, effect of her admiration
+after Eugenia's coldness.... He took her hand and held it for a minute,
+and then they parted with the prospect of meeting the next day.
+
+Hyacinth went home too happy even to speak to Anne about it. She was
+filled with hope. He _must_ care for her.
+
+And Cecil felt as if he were a strange, newly-invented kind of criminal.
+Either, he said to himself, he was playing with the feelings of this
+dear, beautiful creature, or he was drifting into a _mariage de
+convenance_, a vulgar and mercenary speculation, while all the time he
+was madly devoted to someone else. He felt guilty, anxious, and furious
+with Eugenia. But she had really meant what she said that morning; she
+wouldn't see him again. But the thought of seeing Hyacinth under the
+trees the next morning--a secret appointment, too!--was certainly
+consoling.
+
+With a sudden sensation of being utterly sick of himself and his
+feelings, tired of both Hyacinth and Eugenia, and bored to death at the
+idea of all women, Cecil went to see Lord Selsey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+More of the Little Ottleys
+
+
+'Fancy!' said Edith.
+
+'Fancy what?'
+
+'Somehow I never should have thought it,' said Edith thoughtfully.
+
+'Never should have thought what? You have a way of assuming I know the
+end of your story before I've heard the beginning. It's an annoying
+method,' said Bruce.
+
+'I shouldn't have been so surprised if they had been anywhere else. But
+just _there_,' continued Edith.
+
+'Who? and where?'
+
+'Perhaps I'd better not tell you,' Edith said.
+
+They had just finished dinner, and she got up as if to ring the bell for
+coffee.
+
+He stopped her.
+
+'No! Don't ring; I don't wish Bennett to be present at a painful scene.'
+
+Edith looked at him. 'I didn't know there was going to be a painful
+scene. What's the matter?'
+
+'Naturally, I'm distressed and hurt at your conduct.'
+
+'Conduct!'
+
+'Don't echo my words, Edith.'
+
+She saw he looked really distressed.
+
+'Naturally,' he continued, 'I'm hurt at your keeping things from me.
+Your own husband! I may have my faults--'
+
+She nodded.
+
+'But I've not deserved this from you.'
+
+'Oh dear, Bruce, I was only thinking. I'm sorry if I was irritating. I
+will tell you.'
+
+'Go on.'
+
+'When Nurse and Archie were out in the Gardens this morning, who do you
+think they met?'
+
+'This is not a game. I'm not going to guess. You seem to take me for a
+child.'
+
+'Well, you won't tell anybody, will you?'
+
+'That depends. I'm not going to make any promises beforehand. I shall
+act on my own judgement.'
+
+'Oh, you might promise. Well, I'll trust you.'
+
+'Thanks! I should think so!'
+
+'They met Hyacinth, walking with Cecil Reeve alone in a quiet part of
+the Gardens. They weren't walking.'
+
+'Then why did you say they were?' asked Bruce severely.
+
+'It's the same thing. They were sitting down.'
+
+'How _can_ it be the same thing?'
+
+'Oh, don't worry, Bruce! They were sitting down under a tree and Nurse
+saw them holding hands.'
+
+Bruce looked horrified.
+
+'Holding hands,' continued Edith; 'and I can't help thinking they must
+be engaged. Isn't it extraordinary Hyacinth hasn't told me? What do
+you think?'
+
+Bruce got up from the table, lighted a cigarette, and walked round the
+little room.
+
+'I don't know. I must consider. I must think it over.' He paused a
+minute. 'I am pained. Pained and surprised. A girl like Hyacinth, a
+friend of yours, behaving like a housemaid out with a soldier in the
+open street!'
+
+'It wasn't the street, Bruce.'
+
+'It's the same idea.'
+
+'Quite a quiet part of the Gardens.'
+
+'That makes their conduct worse. I scarcely think, after what you have
+told me, that I can allow you to go out with Hyacinth tomorrow.'
+
+'How can you be so absurd? I must go; I want to hear about it.'
+
+'Have I ever made any objection till now at your great intimacy with
+Hyacinth Verney? Of course not. Because I was deceived in her.'
+
+'Deceived?'
+
+'Don't repeat my words, Edith. I won't have it! Certainly I was
+deceived. I thought she was a fitting companion for you--I
+_thought_ so.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce, really! Where's the harm? Perhaps they're engaged; and if
+they are I think it is charming. Cecil is such a nice, amusing,
+good-looking boy, and--'
+
+'I formed my opinion of Reeve some time ago.'
+
+'You only met him once.'
+
+'Once is more than enough for me to form a judgement of anyone. He is
+absolutely unworthy of her. But her conduct I regard as infinitely
+worse. I always imagined she was respectably brought up--a lady!'
+
+'Good gracious! Anyone can see that! She's the most charming girl in the
+world.'
+
+'_Outwardly_, no doubt, she seems all right. But now you see what she
+is.'
+
+He paused to relight his cigarette, which had gone out, and continued:
+'Such behaviour would be dreadful enough in private, but in public! Do
+you think of the example?'
+
+'The example to Archie, do you mean?'
+
+'Don't laugh, Edith. This is no matter for laughing. Certainly to
+Archie--to anyone. Now I've only one thing to say.'
+
+'Do say it.'
+
+'That I never wish to hear Hyacinth Verney's name mentioned again. You
+are never to speak of her to me. Do you hear?'
+
+'Yes, Bruce.'
+
+'It is such a disillusion. I'm so shocked, so horrified, finding her a
+snake in the grass.'
+
+'Oh, I'm sure she didn't look a bit like a snake, Bruce. She wore that
+lovely grey dress and a hat with roses.'
+
+'How do you know? Did _Archie_ tell you? No; you lowered yourself to
+question Nurse. A nice opinion Nurse must have of your friends now! No;
+_that's_ over. I won't blame _you_, dear, but I must never hear anything
+more about Hyacinth.'
+
+Edith sat down and took up a book.
+
+'Why is there no coffee?' asked Bruce rather loudly.
+
+'Oh, you said I wasn't to ring.'
+
+She rang.
+
+While the parlourmaid was bringing in the coffee, Bruce said in a high,
+condescending voice--
+
+'Have you seen that interesting article in the evening paper, dear,
+about the Solicitor-General?'
+
+'Which do you mean? "Silk and Stuff"?'
+
+'Yes. Read it--read it and improve your mind. Far better for a woman to
+occupy her mind with general subjects, and make herself intellectually a
+companion for her husband--are you listening?--than to be always
+gossiping and thinking about people and their paltry private affairs. Do
+you hear?'
+
+'Yes, dear.'
+
+He took his coffee and then said--
+
+'In what direction did you say they were going?'
+
+'Oh, I thought you didn't want me to speak of her again. They were going
+in the opposite direction.'
+
+'Opposite to what? Now that's the curious difference between a woman's
+intellect and a man's. You can't be logical! What do you mean by
+"opposite"?'.
+
+'Why, Bruce, I mean just opposite. The other way.'
+
+'Do you mean they walked off separately?'
+
+'Oh, no! They were going away together, and looking so happy. But
+really, Bruce, I'm sorry I bothered you, telling you about it. I had no
+idea you would feel it so much.'
+
+'What do you mean? Feel it? Of course, I'm terribly distressed to find
+that a wife of mine is intimate with such people--where are you going?'
+
+'I was going to write to Hyacinth and tell her I can't go out with her
+tomorrow.'
+
+'Why can't you go out with her?'
+
+'You said I was never to see her again.'
+
+'Yes; but don't be in a hurry. Never be impulsive.' He waited a minute;
+she stood by the door. 'On the whole, since you wish it so much, I will
+permit you to go out with her this once--for the last time, of
+course--so that you can find out if she really is engaged to be married
+to that young ass. What a mercenary scoundrel he must be!'
+
+'I don't think that. Anyone would admire her, and he is very well off
+himself.'
+
+'Well off! Do you consider that to his credit. So should I be well off
+if I had relations that died and left me a lot of money. Don't defend
+him, Edith; his conduct is simply disgraceful. What right has he to
+expect to marry a beautiful girl in Hyacinth's position? Good gracious,
+does he want everything?'
+
+'I suppose--he likes her.'
+
+'That's not particularly clever of him. So would any man. What I object
+to so much about that empty-headed cad, is that he's never satisfied. He
+wants the earth, it seems to me!'
+
+'Really, Bruce, one would think you were quite--'
+
+'What?'
+
+'Well, quite jealous of him, to hear you talk. If one didn't know
+that--of course you can't be,' she added quickly.
+
+'This incident is now closed,' said Bruce. 'We will never discuss the
+subject again.'
+
+'Very well, dear.'
+
+She then went into the little drawing-room and looked longingly at the
+telephone. She feared there would be no chance of communicating with her
+friend that evening.
+
+Five minutes later Bruce came in and said--
+
+'And what can old Cannon be about to allow his ward to be tearing about
+all over London with a man of Reeve's antecedents?'
+
+'What's the matter with his antecedents? I didn't know he had any.'
+
+'Don't interrupt. And Miss Yeo? Where was Miss Yeo, I should like to
+know?'
+
+'I can't _think_.'
+
+'A nice way she does her duty as chaperone!'
+
+'Dear, Hyacinth's twenty-three, not a child. Miss Yeo's her companion;
+but she can't insist, even if she wants to, on following Hyacinth about
+if she doesn't wish it.'
+
+'She should wish it. Seriously, do you think Sir Charles knows of these
+goings-on--I mean of this conduct?'
+
+'I shouldn't think he knew the details.'
+
+'Then isn't it my duty as a married man and father of a family--'
+
+Edith concealed a smile by moving the screen.
+
+'To communicate with him on the subject?'
+
+Edith had a moment's terror. It struck her that if she opposed him,
+Bruce was capable of doing it. He often wrote letters beginning, 'Sir, I
+feel it my duty,' to people on subjects that were no earthly concern of
+his. If he really did anything of this sort, Hyacinth would never
+forgive her.
+
+After a second's concentration of mind, she said mildly--
+
+'Perhaps you had better, if you really feel it your duty. Of course, I'd
+rather you didn't, personally. But if that's how you feel about it--'
+
+Bruce wheeled round at once.
+
+'Indeed! Well, I shall not do anything of the sort. Is it my business to
+open her guardian's eyes? Why should I? No; I won't interfere in the
+matter at all. Let them go their own way. Do you hear, Edith? Let them
+do just whatever they like.'
+
+'Yes; I was going to.'
+
+'Mind you, they'll be wretched,' he added rather vindictively. 'If I
+only saw a chance of happiness for them I shouldn't mind so much.'
+
+'Why do you think they will be miserable if they are married?'
+
+'Of course they will. People who behave in that unprincipled way
+before--'
+
+'Why, we used to sit in the garden,' said Edith timidly.
+
+'Oh, yes, of course; after your father had given his consent.'
+
+'And once or twice before.'
+
+Bruce smiled rather fatuously. 'Don't compare the two cases. I was a man
+of the world.... I was very firm, wasn't I Edith? Somehow at first your
+father didn't seem to like me, but I reasoned with him. I always reason
+calmly with people. And then he came round. Do you remember how pleased
+you were that day?' He patted Edith's hair.
+
+'Then why be so severe?'
+
+'Perhaps I am a little bit too severe,' he acknowledged. 'But you don't
+quite understand how it jars on me to think of any friend of yours
+behaving in a manner that's--are you sure they're engaged?'
+
+'No; I don't know anything about it.'
+
+'Well, of course, if they don't marry after what Archie has seen, it
+will be a public scandal, that's all I can say. On the other hand, of
+course, it would be far better not.'
+
+'What do you propose?' said Edith.
+
+'I don't quite know; I'll think it over. Look here, Edith, if you don't
+mind, I think I'll go for a little stroll. The flat seems so hot and
+airless tonight'
+
+Edith glanced at the telephone.
+
+'Oh, don't go,' she said.
+
+He went into the hall and put on his coat. 'I must go, dear. I feel the
+need of air. I shan't be long.'
+
+'You will only go for a little walk, won't you?'
+
+'I might go to the club for half an hour. I shall see. Good night,
+dear.'
+
+'Good night.'
+
+He came back to say, in a rather mysterious voice--
+
+'What were Nurse's exact words?'
+
+'Oh, she said, "Miss Verney seemed to be carrying on anyhow with a young
+gentleman in Kensington Gardens," and then she said it was Mr Reeve,
+that's all.'
+
+'Disgusting! Horrible!'
+
+He went out and banged the door.
+
+Edith went to the telephone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Lady Cannon's Visit
+
+
+Lady Cannon got up one morning earlier than usual and tried on a dress
+of last season, which she found was a little too tight. For this,
+naturally, she blamed her maid with some severity. She then dressed
+rather hurriedly and went all over the house, touching little ornaments
+with the tip of her finger, saying that the pictures in the drawing-room
+were crooked, and that nothing had been properly dusted. Having sent for
+the housemaid and scolded her, and given the second footman notice, she
+felt better, but was still sufficiently in what is expressively called a
+bad temper to feel an inclination to do disagreeable duties, so she made
+up her mind to call and see her husband's ward, and tell her something
+she would not like to hear. For Hyacinth she always felt a curious
+mixture of chronic anger, family pride, and admiring disapproval, which
+combination she had never yet discovered to be a common form of
+vague jealousy.
+
+Lady Cannon arrived about three o'clock, pompously dressed in tight
+purple velvet and furs. She thought she saw two heads appear at the
+studio window and then vanish, but was told that Miss Verney was out.
+
+Prompted by a determination not to be baffled, she said she would get
+out and write a note, and was shown to the drawing-room.
+
+Anne, in a peculiarly hideous and unnecessary apron of black alpaca,
+came in, bringing a little writing-case.
+
+'Oh! Miss Yeo, as you're there, I needn't write the letter. You can give
+Hyacinth a message for me.'
+
+'Certainly, Lady Cannon.'
+
+'How is it that she is out at this extraordinary hour?'
+
+'Is there anything extraordinary about the hour?' asked Anne, looking at
+the clock. 'It's three; somehow I always regard three as a particularly
+ordinary hour.'
+
+'I differ from you, Miss Yeo.'
+
+'Anyhow, it happens every day,' murmured Anne.
+
+'Was Hyacinth out to lunch?' said Lady Cannon.
+
+'No--no. She lunched at home.'
+
+'Do you think she'll be long?'
+
+'Oh, no; I shouldn't think she would be many minutes.'
+
+'Then I think I'll wait.'
+
+'_Do_,' said Anne cordially.
+
+'I wanted to speak to her. Considering she's my husband's ward, I see
+very, very little of Hyacinth, Miss Yeo.'
+
+'Yes, she was saying the other day that you hardly ever called now,'
+Anne said conciliatingly.
+
+'Has she been quite well lately?'
+
+'Oh, do you know, she's been so well,' said Anne, in a high, affected
+voice, which she knew was intensely irritating. 'So very, very well!'
+
+Anne then stood up.
+
+'Would you like a cup of tea, or coffee, while you're waiting?'
+
+'_Tea_? At three o'clock in the afternoon! I never heard of such a
+thing. You seem to have strangely Bohemian ideas in this house,
+Miss Yeo!'
+
+'Do you think tea Bohemian? Well, coffee then?'
+
+Lady Cannon hesitated, but wishing for an excuse to wait, she said--
+
+'Thank you, if it isn't giving any trouble; perhaps I'll take a cup of
+coffee. I didn't have any after lunch.'
+
+'Oh, yes, do. I'll go and order it at once.'
+
+Anne walked with slow, languid dignity to the door, and when she had
+shut it, flew like a hunted hare to the studio, where Cecil Reeve and
+Hyacinth were sitting together.
+
+'Hyacinth,' she said sharply, 'run upstairs at once, put on your hat, go
+to the hall door and bang it, and come into the drawing-room. Lady
+Cannon's going to stop the whole afternoon. She's in an
+appalling temper.'
+
+'She won't wait long,' exclaimed Hyacinth, 'surely?'
+
+'Won't she? She's ordered coffee. She'll be smoking a cigarette before
+you know where you are.'
+
+'Oh, I'll go,' said Cecil. 'Let me go.'
+
+'Of course you must go,' said Anne. 'You can come back in an hour.'
+
+'But, good heavens, Anne,' said Hyacinth, 'why on earth should we make a
+secret of Mr Reeve being here?'
+
+'Why, because I said you were out.'
+
+'Well, I'll go and explain,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'Indeed you won't. You're not to go and give me away. Besides, I won't
+be baffled by that old cat. She's suspicious already. Out you go!'
+
+Cecil took his hat and stick, and went out of the front door.
+
+Anne ran upstairs, brought down Hyacinth's hat, veil, and gloves, and
+pushed her towards the drawing-room.
+
+'Don't you see?--she'll think you've just come in,' said Anne.
+
+'What about the coachman and footman?'
+
+'Oh, good heavens, do you think they're going to call on her and tell
+her all about it?'
+
+Just as Hyacinth, laughing, was going into the drawing-room, Anne
+clutched her, and said--
+
+'I don't know that you'd better be at home after all! Charles will be
+calling directly. Oh, I forgot, he won't come in when he sees the
+carriage.'
+
+Anne relaxed her clasp and went to order coffee.
+
+Lady Cannon was looking angrily in the glass when Hyacinth came in.
+
+'Oh, here you are, my dear. I'm glad I didn't miss you. I wanted to
+speak to you about something.'
+
+'Yes, Auntie.'
+
+Lady Cannon coughed, and said rather portentously, 'You must not be
+offended with me, dear. You know, in a sense I'm, as it were, in the
+place of your mother--or, at any rate, your stepmother.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Of course you're perfectly free to do exactly as you like, but I heard
+in a roundabout way something that rather surprised me about you.'
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'We were dining with some friends last night' (it was characteristic of
+Lady Cannon not to mention their names), 'where we happened to meet that
+young couple, the Ottleys. You know Mrs Ottley very well, I believe?'
+
+'Edith is my greatest friend,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'Quite so; she seems a very nice young woman. Very devoted to her
+husband. And I think him a most superior man! He sat next to me at
+dinner, and I had quite a long talk with him. We spoke of you. He told
+me something that surprised me so much. He said that you had been seen
+very frequently lately about alone with a young man. Is this a fact?'
+
+'What did he say about it?'
+
+'Well, he seemed to regret it--he seemed to think it was a pity. Living
+alone as you do, it certainly is not the right thing for you to be seen
+anywhere without Miss Yeo.'
+
+Hyacinth became crimson. 'On what grounds did Mr Ottley find fault with
+anything I do?'
+
+'Merely general grounds, my dear. A very proper dislike to the flighty
+behaviour of the girls of the present day. As he tells me, he feels it
+as a father--'
+
+'Father! He has only a little boy of two. I think it's very impertinent
+of him to talk of me like that at all.'
+
+'On the contrary, I thought it exceedingly nice of him. He sincerely
+wishes you well, Hyacinth. Oh, _how_ well that young man wishes you!
+Make no mistake about it. By the way, I promised him not to mention his
+name in the matter. So of course you won't repeat it. But I was really
+rather upset at what he said. I haven't said anything to Sir Charles
+yet, as I thought you might give me some explanation.'
+
+'I have no explanation to give. I suppose you know who it is I was
+walking with?'
+
+'I gathered that it was a Mr Reeve. Now, Hyacinth dear, you know how
+much I wish you well; if you're engaged, I think your guardian and I
+ought to know it, and in any case you should be more discreet in your
+behaviour.'
+
+Hyacinth's eyes flashed.
+
+'Are you engaged?' asked Lady Cannon.
+
+'I must decline to answer. I recognise no right that you or anyone else
+has to ask me such a question.'
+
+Lady Cannon rose indignantly, leaving her coffee untouched.
+
+'Very well, Hyacinth; if this is the way you take my kind advice and
+well-meant interest, there's nothing more to be said. Of course, I shall
+tell Sir Charles what I've heard. From what I can gather from that
+excellent young man Mr Ottley, Mr Reeve is by no means a person that Sir
+Charles and I would be glad to welcome with open arms, as one of
+the family.'
+
+'Cecil Reeve is a friend of mine. There's nothing in the world to be
+said against him, and you must really allow me the privilege of choosing
+my own friends.'
+
+'Good-bye then,' said Lady Cannon, going to the door. 'I'm pained,
+grieved, and shocked at your attitude. I can only presume, however, that
+you are not engaged to be married, for surely your first thought would
+have been to ask your guardian's consent; and once more let me tell you,
+in being reckless as you have, you're simply ruining your future.'
+
+With this Lady Cannon swept from the room.
+
+She returned, however, and said, 'I regard all this as not your own
+fault, Hyacinth, but the fault of _that Miss Yeo_. From the first I saw
+she had an evil influence, and I've been proved, as, perhaps
+unfortunately, I always am, to be perfectly right.'
+
+
+'The worst of it was,' Hyacinth said, when relating the conversation to
+Anne a little later,' that I _can't_ tell Auntie that I'm engaged. Isn't
+it awful?'
+
+'You soon will be,' said Anne consolingly.
+
+'Do you really think so?'
+
+'Yes, and I'm glad Lady Cannon was scored off, anyhow.'
+
+'Edith told me about her having mentioned to Bruce about our meeting the
+nurse and baby. She was very sorry, but I thought it didn't matter a
+bit. Why do you think Bruce tried to make mischief in this horrid way?'
+
+'Only because he's a fool. Like so many of us, he's in love with you,'
+said Anne.
+
+Hyacinth laughed, thinking Anne was in fun.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Raggett in Love
+
+
+'If you please, ma'am a gentleman called and left some flowers.'
+
+'Who was it?' said Edith.
+
+'He wouldn't give his name. There's a note for you.'
+
+Edith went into the drawing-room, where she found a large bundle of
+lilies, violets, and daffodils, and the following letter, written in a
+cramped, untidy handwriting:--
+
+'DEAR MRS OTTLEY,
+
+'I went for a bicycle ride yesterday and plucked these flowers for you,
+hoping you wouldn't mind accepting them. If you have a moment's time to
+give me, I wonder if you would let me call and see you one day?
+
+'Sincerely yours,
+
+'F. J. RAGGETT
+
+'P.S.--I'm extremely busy, but am free at any time. Perhaps tomorrow
+might suit you? Or if you're engaged tomorrow, perhaps today? I would
+ask you to ring me up and kindly let me know, but I'm not on the
+telephone.'
+
+
+Edith was amused, but also a little bored. Ever since the dinner at the
+Savoy, now a fortnight ago, Raggett had been showing furtive signs of a
+wild admiration for her, at the same time hedging absurdly by asking her
+to tell him when he might call and giving no address, and by (for
+instance) pretending he had plucked the flowers himself, evidently not
+knowing that they had been sent with her address written on a card
+printed with the name of Cooper's Stores in the Edgware Road.
+
+She never knew how Bruce would take things, so she had not said anything
+about it to him yet. He seemed to have forgotten the existence of
+Raggett, and never mentioned him now.
+
+She arranged the flowers in some blue and white china vases, and sat
+down by the window in the little drawing-room. She had before her, until
+Bruce would come home to dinner, two of those empty hours which all
+young married women in her position have known. There was nothing to do.
+Archie was still out, and she was tired of reading, and disliked
+needlework.
+
+She had just come back from seeing Hyacinth. How full and interesting
+_her_ life seemed! At any rate, _she_ had everything before her. Edith
+felt as if she herself were locked up in a box. Even her endless
+patience with Bruce was beginning to pall a little.
+
+As she was thinking these things she heard a ring, and the maid came in
+and said--
+
+'It's the gentleman that left the flowers, and could you see him for a
+minute?'
+
+'Certainly.'
+
+Raggett came in. He looked just as extraordinary as he had at the Savoy
+and as difficult to place. His manner could not be said to express
+anything, for he had no manner, but his voice was the voice of a shy
+undergraduate, while his clothes, Edith thought, suggested a combination
+of a bushranger and a conjuror. His tie, evidently new, was a marvel, a
+sort of true-lover's knot of red patterned with green, strange beyond
+description. He seemed terrified.
+
+'How very kind of you to come and see me,' she said in her sweetest
+voice, 'and these lovely flowers! They quite brighten one up.'
+
+'I'm glad you think they're all right,' said Raggett in a low voice.
+
+'They're beautiful. Fancy your plucking them all yourself! Where did you
+find these lovely lilies growing? I always fancied they were
+hot-house plants.'
+
+'Oh, I was bicycling,' Raggett said. 'I just saw them, you know. I
+thought you might like them. How is Ottley?'
+
+'Bruce is very well. Haven't you seen him lately?'
+
+'Not very. I've been working so fearfully hard,' he said; 'at the
+British Museum chiefly. One doesn't run up against Bruce there much.'
+
+'No. I suppose he hardly ever goes.'
+
+There was a pause.
+
+'Won't you have some tea?' asked Edith.
+
+'No, thank you. I never take it.'
+
+And there was another silence.
+
+Just as Edith was rather at a loss, and was beginning a sentence with--
+
+'Have you been--' he at the same time said--
+
+'Do you know--?'
+
+'I beg your pardon,' said Edith.
+
+'Oh, I beg yours.'
+
+'Do say what you were going to say.'
+
+'Oh, please finish your sentence.'
+
+'I wasn't going to say anything.'
+
+'Nor was I.'
+
+'I was going to ask you if you'd been to the Savoy again lately?'
+
+'No; I've only been there once in my life. It was a great event for me,
+Mrs Ottley.'
+
+'Really?'
+
+He spoke with more confidence, but in a still lower voice.
+
+'Yes. I met my ideal there.'
+
+He fixed on her an ardent but respectful glare.
+
+She smiled.
+
+'I'm afraid,' continued Raggett, 'that I'm not amusing you much. I
+suppose you're very fond of wit and gaiety? I wasn't brought up in a
+very humorous atmosphere. I don't think I ever heard a joke till quite
+recently.'
+
+Edith laughed.
+
+'My father,' he went on, 'used sometimes to say at night. "Now it's time
+for Bedfordshire," but I wasn't amused at that after ten years old. My
+family are really very serious as a whole. I should never dream of
+asking them even a riddle, because I'm sure they would give it up
+at once.'
+
+'Did you say you heard one joke recently? What was it?' asked Edith.
+
+Raggett blushed and looked down.
+
+'I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I can't tell you, Mrs Ottley. Not that I
+forget it, but it isn't suited to your--well, to your atmosphere'--he
+looked round the room.
+
+'Oh! Can't you _arrange_ it?'
+
+'Impossible,' he said firmly. 'Quite impossible.'
+
+'Oh well, of course--'
+
+'Impossible,' he repeated, shaking his head.
+
+'Do you go much to the theatre?' she asked conversationally.
+
+'Never. It would interfere with my work.'
+
+'What is your work, exactly?' she asked, with polite interest.
+
+'It's difficult to explain, Mrs Ottley. It takes a great many forms.'
+
+'Oh, yes.'
+
+'Just at this moment I'm a Legitimist--you understand, don't you? We
+drink to Queen Mary over the water--and put violets on the statue of
+King Charles the Martyr in February, and so forth.'
+
+'Ah. That must be very hard work.'
+
+'Oh, it isn't only that--I'm a kind of Secretary, you see, to the
+Society.'
+
+'Really? Really? What fun it must be; I mean how interesting. Can I
+belong?'
+
+'Oh, dear yes, of course, Mrs Ottley. If you liked.'
+
+'What should I have to do?'
+
+'Well, first of all you would have to pay a shilling.'
+
+'Yes?'
+
+'And then you would be eligible for a year's probation.'
+
+'And what should we do after that?'
+
+'Well, after that, you see, we shall have to bide our time.'
+
+'That doesn't sound very hard,' said Edith thoughtfully. 'Just to pay a
+shilling and bide your time.'
+
+'I'll send you some papers about it, if you really take any interest.'
+
+'Thanks. Thanks, very much. Yes, do send them.'
+
+'Do you really think you would care to become a member, Mrs Ottley?'
+
+'Oh, yes; yes, I should think so. I always hated Oliver Cromwell.'
+
+He looked doubtful.
+
+'Yes, of course--but that alone, I'm afraid, would hardly be ... you see
+there might be a revolution at any moment.'
+
+'I see. But--excuse my asking you, what has that to do with the British
+Museum?'
+
+'I can hardly tell you off-hand like this, Mrs Ottley; but if you let me
+come again one day--'
+
+'Oh, certainly, do--do come again.'
+
+'Then I'll say good-bye for today,' said Raggett, with an admiring look.
+'I--I hope I haven't trespassed on your valuable--'
+
+'Oh, no; not in the least.'
+
+'I've enjoyed our talk so much,' said Raggett, lingering.
+
+'So have I, Mr Raggett. It has been most interesting.'
+
+'I--I felt,' said Raggett, now standing up and looking very shy, 'I
+somehow felt at once that there was a kind of--may I say, sympathy?'
+
+'Quite so.'
+
+'Yes? Well, give my kind regards to Ottley, and thank you so much.'
+
+They shook hands, she rang the bell, and he rushed out as if he was in a
+violent hurry, leaving Edith rather bewildered.
+
+
+At dinner that evening Edith said--
+
+'Fancy, Bruce, Raggett called today!'
+
+Bruce dropped his spoon in the soup and looked up.
+
+'_Raggett_? He--do you mean to say he came here?'
+
+'Yes. He paid a visit. Why shouldn't he?'
+
+'I don't know, but it seems a very odd thing. He never pays visits. What
+did he seem to think of the flat?'
+
+'He didn't say. He talked about his work.'
+
+'What did you think of him?' asked Bruce.
+
+'He seemed very vague. He's very good-natured; fancy his sending me all
+those flowers!'
+
+'He sent you flowers?' said Bruce slowly. '_Raggett_!'
+
+'Surely you don't mind?'
+
+Bruce waited a minute and said, 'We'll talk it over after dinner.'
+
+There was an uneasy pause; then Edith said--
+
+'I saw Hyacinth today. She had just had a visit from Lady Cannon.'
+
+Bruce looked rather guilty and uncomfortable.
+
+'I like Lady Cannon,' he said presently. 'She's a woman of sound sense.
+She has a very strong feeling of responsibility about Hyacinth.'
+
+'Yes.' Edith and Hyacinth had arranged not to say any more, as it would
+be useless.
+
+'A very discreet woman, too,' continued Bruce. 'And what news about
+Hyacinth?'
+
+'None, I think. She seems very happy.'
+
+'Happy! _That_ can't last.'
+
+After dinner Bruce followed Edith into the drawing-room, looked angrily
+at the flowers and said--
+
+'Now what's the meaning of all this? Mind, I'm not jealous. It isn't my
+nature to be. What I dislike is being made a fool of. If I thought that
+Raggett, after all I've done for him--'
+
+'Oh, Bruce! How can you be so absurd? A poor harmless creature--'
+
+'Harmless creature, indeed! I think it extremely marked, calling on you
+when I was out.'
+
+'He didn't know you were out. It's the usual time to pay a visit, and he
+really came just to ask me to belong to the Society.'
+
+'I don't call Raggett a society man.'
+
+'He's a secret-society man,' said Edith. 'He wants me to be a
+Legitimist.'
+
+'Now I won't have any nonsense of that sort here,' said Bruce, striking
+the table with his fist. 'Goodness knows where it will end. That sort of
+thing takes women away from the natural home duties, and I disapprove of
+it strongly. Why, he'll soon be asking you to be a Suffragette! I think
+I shall write to Raggett.'
+
+'Oh, would you, really?'
+
+'I shall write to him,' repeated Bruce, 'and tell him that I won't have
+these constant visits and marked attentions. I shall say you complained
+to me. Yes, that's the dignified way, and I shall request him to keep
+his secret societies to himself, and not to try to interfere with the
+peace and harmony of a happy English home.'
+
+He drew some writing-paper towards him.
+
+'I'm sure he didn't mean the slightest harm. He thought it was the
+proper thing, after dining with us.'
+
+'But it isn't like the man, Edith! It isn't Raggett! He's no slave to
+convention; don't think it. I can't help fancying that there must have
+been some ulterior motive. It seems to me sinister--that's the
+word--sinister.'
+
+'Would you think it sinister if he never came, again?'
+
+'Well, perhaps not, but in allowing this to pass--isn't it the thin end
+of the wedge?'
+
+'Give him a chance and see,' she said. 'Don't be in a hurry. After all,
+he's your great friend. You're always talking to me about him; and
+what's he done?--sent a few flowers and called here once. I'm sure he
+thought you would like it.'
+
+'But don't you see, Edith, the attention should have been paid to me,
+not to you.'
+
+'He could hardly send you flowers, Bruce. I'm sure he thought it was the
+proper thing.'
+
+Bruce walked up and down the room greatly agitated.
+
+'I admit that this is a matter that requires consideration. I shouldn't
+like to make a mountain out of a mole-hill. We'll see; we'll give him a
+chance. But if he comes here again, or takes any step to persuade you to
+have anything to do with his Society or whatever it is, I shall know
+how to act.'
+
+'Of course you will, dear.'
+
+Edith hoped she wouldn't receive a large envelope full of papers about
+the Legitimists by the first post.
+
+'I hope you know, Bruce, _I_ shouldn't care if I never saw him again.'
+
+'Why not? Because he's my friend, I suppose? You look down on him just
+because he's a hard worker, and of some use in the world--not a
+dandified, conventional, wasp-waisted idiot like Cecil Reeve! Perhaps
+you prefer Cecil Reeve?'
+
+'Much,' replied Edith firmly.
+
+'Why? Let's hear your reasons.'
+
+'Why, he's a real person. I know where I am when I'm talking to
+him--we're on the same platform.'
+
+'Platform?'
+
+'Yes. When I talk to Mr Raggett I feel as if he had arrived at Victoria,
+and I had gone to meet him at Charing Cross. Do you see? We don't get
+near enough to understand each other.'
+
+'Quite near enough,' replied Bruce suspiciously. Then he said, 'I feel
+the want of air. If you don't mind, dear, I think I shall go for
+a stroll.'
+
+'Oh, don't!'
+
+He went to the hall and put on his coat.
+
+'Just a stroll; or I may look in at the club. You don't understand; a
+man feels rather cramped in these surroundings, Edith.'
+
+'I quite understand your feeling.'
+
+'I shan't be long,' said Bruce. 'Try and make up your mind to give up
+Raggett's society altogether. You don't mind making this sacrifice for
+me, do you?'
+
+'Not in the least,' she answered. 'I prefer it.'
+
+He went out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Archie
+
+
+It was Sunday afternoon, and Bruce, lunch still pervading his
+consciousness, found himself reading over and over again and taking a
+kind of stupefied interest in the 'Answers to Correspondents' in a
+certain Sunday paper, and marvelling at the mine of extraordinary
+miscellaneous information possessed by the person who answered them.
+
+'Brief replies:--
+
+'To _Miserable Alfred_ (Baldness).--If you comply with the rules, will
+send private advice.
+
+'_Knutford_ (For knee trouble).--My advice is against.' (Bruce vaguely
+thought this rather harsh. If Knutford liked knee trouble, why shouldn't
+he have it?)
+
+'_Alter Ego_ (Tomato culture).--There's no need to soak the seeds for
+days. The man who sows in wet soil and then treads down flat foredooms
+himself to complete failure. This is, however, nothing to go by. If seed
+be purchased let it be from a trustworthy firm. Personally, I think in
+the case of outdoor tomatoes the middle course is best.
+
+'_Worried_ (Photography).--To avoid curling. The chief trouble with reel
+films is their tendency to curl. In any case the film should be allowed
+to soak for five minutes, and I need not dwell upon other methods of
+treating the latter kind. All my remarks on plate development, etc.,
+apply equally to cut films, as I should almost have thought 'Worried'
+would have gathered by now.
+
+'_True Blue_ (Egg-preserving).--We quite understand your desire to make
+more headway than you can in a south-coast watering-place....'
+
+
+At this moment Edith came in. Bruce looked up a little annoyed at the
+interruption. He was becoming quite absorbed in the egg-preserving case
+on the south coast, and morbidly anxious to know what would happen next.
+
+'Bruce, I wonder if you'd do me a very great favour? It really isn't
+difficult. I've allowed nurse to go out and Bennett is busy, and I
+wanted to fly over just for a minute or two to see Hyacinth. She
+telephoned to me. I shouldn't be gone more than twenty minutes.'
+
+'Of course, go. Do go. I don't want you. I'm very busy.'
+
+He took up the paper again.
+
+'It isn't that; but _would_ you very much mind looking after Archie
+while I'm gone? He'll be perfectly good. I'll give him his box of toys,
+and he'll sit in the corner over there and you'll never notice he's
+there till I'm back again.'
+
+'Of course, of course. Surely I'm capable of looking after my own son.
+Do go.'
+
+'Yes, Bruce dear. And if he asks for anything just nod and smile and
+don't give it to him, and he'll be all right.'
+
+'Oh, don't worry.'
+
+As she was going out he called out--
+
+'And I say, Edith, just give him a hint that I've got some rather
+important work to do, and he mustn't interrupt me by asking foolish
+questions.'
+
+'Yes, oh yes. I'm so glad to think you're so sensible, and not
+ridiculously nervous of having to look after the child.'
+
+'Nervous? What rot! I never heard such nonsense. I say, Edith, what's
+the doctor's address? In case he has a fit, or anything.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce! As if he would _dream_ of having a fit! I shan't give you
+the address. You'd be telephoning to him on the chance. Good gracious,
+don't make such a fuss! I shall only be gone a few minutes.'
+
+'I'm not making a fuss. It's you. Fancy thinking it necessary to tell me
+not to give him what he asks for! As if I should.'
+
+He returned to his paper, and Edith brought in the little boy.
+
+He gave his father a keen glance from under his smooth, fair fringe and
+sat down in front of the box of toys.
+
+As soon as Edith had gone he held out a card to his father, and said--
+
+'E for efalunt.'
+
+Bruce frowned, nodded, waved his hand, and went on reading.
+
+He had lost the thread of the Egg Question, but became equally absorbed
+in the following problem.
+
+'_Disheartened_.--You must make a quiet but determined stand against
+such imposition. It does not follow because you walked out with a young
+man two or three times, and he now walks out with your friend
+instead, that ...'
+
+'X for swordfish,' said Archie, holding out another card.
+
+'Don't talk, Archie.'
+
+'I've got my best suit on,' said Archie.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'What I was photographed in.'
+
+'Don't talk, old chap. I want to read.'
+
+'This is my bear. It's the same bear.'
+
+'The same bear as what?'
+
+'Why, the same bear! This is a soldier.'
+
+He put the wooden soldier in his mouth, then put it carefully back in
+the box.
+
+'This is my bear,' said Archie again. 'Just the same bear. That's all.'
+
+Bruce threw away the paper.
+
+'You want to have a talk, eh?' he said.
+
+'This is my best suit,' said Archie. 'Have you any sugar in your
+pockets?'
+
+'Sugar in my pockets? Who put that into your head?'
+
+'Nobody didn't put it in my head. Don't you put any in your pocket?'
+
+'No. Sugar, indeed! I'm not a parrot.'
+
+Archie roared with laughter.
+
+'You're not a parrot!' he said, laughing loudly. 'Wouldn't it be fun if
+you was a parrot. I wish you was a parrot.'
+
+'Don't be foolish, Archie.'
+
+'Do parrots keep sugar in their pockets?'
+
+'Don't be silly.'
+
+'Have parrots got pockets?'
+
+'Play with your soldiers, dear.'
+
+'Do parrots have pockets?'
+
+'Don't be a nuisance.'
+
+'Why did you say parrots had sugar in their pockets, then?'
+
+'I never said anything of the kind.'
+
+'What do parrots have pockets for?'
+
+'Do you think your mother will be long?'
+
+'Will mother know about parrots and pockets?'
+
+'You're talking nonsense, Archie. Now be good. Your mother said you
+would be good.'
+
+'Is it naughty to talk about parrots--with pockets?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Then you're very naughty. You talk about them.'
+
+'Will you stop talking about them if I get you some sugar?' said Bruce,
+feeling frightfully ashamed of himself, but fearing for his reason if
+Archie said any more on the subject.
+
+'I'm a good boy. I'll stop talking about parrots if you get me some
+sugar.'
+
+He put his hand in his father's with a most winning smile.
+
+'I'll show you where it is. It's in the kitchen. It's in the nursery,
+too, but it's nicer sugar in the kitchen.'
+
+'I oughtn't to give it you. Your mother will be angry.'
+
+'Do parrots have pockets?'
+
+Bruce jumped up and went with the child, and told the cook to give him
+six lumps of sugar.
+
+She seemed surprised, amused, and doubtful.
+
+'Do as I tell you at once,' Bruce said sternly.
+
+They came back, and Archie was silent and happy until Edith returned.
+
+When she saw traces of sugar on his face and dress she said--
+
+'Oh, Archie! What on earth did your father give you sugar for?'
+
+'For talking about parrots,' said Archie.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Bruce's Play
+
+
+'Edith,' said Bruce, 'come in here. I want to speak to you. Shut the
+door.'
+
+She shut it, and stood waiting.
+
+'Don't stand there. Come and sit down.... Now listen to me very
+seriously. I want to ask you a question.'
+
+'How would you like me to be making about L5,000 a year--at least?'
+
+'Need you ask?'
+
+'And all by my own talent--not by anybody else's help.'
+
+'It would be jolly,' she said, trying not to look doubtful.
+
+'Jolly! I should think it would. Now I'll tell you my scheme--what I've
+made up my mind to do.'
+
+'What?'
+
+'I'm going to write a play.'
+
+Edith controlled her expression, and said it was a very good idea.
+
+'_Such_ a play,' said Bruce. 'A really strong, powerful piece--all wit
+and cynicism like Bernard Shaw--_but_, full of heart and feeling and
+sentiment, and that sort of rot. It'll have all sorts of jolly fantastic
+ideas--like _Peter Pan_ and _The Beloved Vagabond_, but without the
+faults of Locke and Barrie--and it's going to be absolutely realistic
+and natural in parts--like the Sicilians, you know. However, I don't
+mind telling you that my model--you must have a model, more or less--is
+going to be Bernard Shaw. I like his style.'
+
+'It's the most lovely idea I ever heard of. What theatre are you going
+to produce it at?'
+
+'That depends. For some things I should prefer His Majesty's, but I'm
+rather fond of the Haymarket, too. However, if the terms were better, I
+might give it to Charlie Hawtrey, or even Alexander, if he offered me
+exceptionally good royalties.'
+
+'Oh! Are you going to have it put up to auction?'
+
+'Don't talk nonsense. What do you mean? No, I shall simply send a copy
+round to all the principal people and see what they say.'
+
+He walked up and down the room once or twice.
+
+'The reason I'm so determined not to let Bourchier have it is simply
+this: he doesn't realise my idea--he never could. Mind you, I believe he
+would do his best, but his Personality is against him. Do you
+see, Edith?'
+
+'I see your point. But--'
+
+'There's no reason why it shouldn't be quite as great a success as _The
+Merry Widow_.'
+
+'Oh, is it going to be a comic opera?'
+
+'Why, of course not. Don't I tell you it's to be a powerful play of real
+life.'
+
+'Will you tell me the plot?'
+
+He smiled rather fatuously. 'I'll tell you some of the plot, certainly,
+if you like--at least, I'll tell you how it's going to begin.'
+
+'Do go on!'--
+
+'Well, I must tell you it begins in a rather unconventional
+way--entirely different from most plays; but that'll make it all the
+more striking, and I _won't_ alter it--mind that--not for anybody. Well,
+the curtain goes up, and you find two servants--do you see?--talking
+over their master and mistress. The maid--her name's Parker--is dusting
+the photographs and things, and she says to the manservant something
+about "The mistress does seem in a tantrum, doesn't she, Parker?" So
+he says--'
+
+'But are they both called Parker?' asked Edith.
+
+'Yes--no--of course not. I forgot; it's the man that's called Parker.
+But that isn't the point. Well, they talk, and gradually let out a
+little of the plot. Then two friends of the hero come in, and--oh, I
+can't bother to tell you any more now; but isn't it rather a good idea,
+eh? So new!'
+
+'Capital! Splendid! Such a lovely original idea. I do wish you'd be
+quick and do it, Bruce.'
+
+'I am being quick; but you mustn't be in too great a hurry; you must
+give me time.'
+
+'Will it be ready in time for the season--I mean after Easter?'
+
+'What! in a fortnight? How could they be ready to produce it in a
+fortnight, especially with the Easter holidays between? It won't be
+long, that I can promise you. I'm a quick worker.'
+
+He waited a minute, and then said--
+
+'You mustn't be depressed, Edith dear, if I get a little slating from
+some of the critics, you know. You can't expect them all to appreciate a
+new writer at once. And it really won't make any difference to the
+success if my play pleases the public, which I don't mind telling you I
+know it's sure to do; because, you see, it'll have all the good points
+and none of the bad ones of all the successful plays of the last six
+years. That's my dodge. That's how I do it.'
+
+'I see.'
+
+'Won't it be a joke when the governor and the mater are there on the
+first night? They'll be frightfully pleased. You must try and prevent
+the mater swaggering about it too much, you know. She's such a dear,
+she's sure to be absurdly proud of it. And it'll be a bit of a score off
+the governor in a way, too. He never would have thought I could do it,
+would he? And Raggett will be surprised, too. You must have a ripping
+new dress for the first night, Edith, old girl.'
+
+'I think I shall have Liberty satin, dear--that new shade of blue--it
+wears better than Nattier. But I won't order it just yet. You haven't
+written the first scene, have you?'
+
+'The first scene? No! Plays aren't done like that. The chief thing about
+a play like this is to get a scenario.'
+
+'Oh! Isn't that where the people sit?'
+
+'Don't be ridiculous! You're thinking of the auditorium. I mean the
+skeleton of the play. That's what I shall send round to the managers.
+They can see what it's going to be like at once.'
+
+'How many acts will it be?'
+
+'Four.'
+
+'And have you settled on the name?'
+
+'Yes, as a matter of fact I have settled on a name; but don't you go
+giving it away. It's rather an original name. It would do if I developed
+the comedy interest just the same and just as well as if I made the
+chief point the tragic part. It's going to be called _You Never Know_.
+Good name, isn't it?'
+
+'It's a splendid name. But isn't it a tiny bit like something else?'
+
+'How unsympathetic you are! The fact is you don't understand. That's
+what it is.'
+
+'Oh, I do sympathise immensely, Bruce, and I'm sure you'll have a great
+success. What fun it will be! Are you going to work at it this
+afternoon?'
+
+'Why, no! not _this_ afternoon. I'm rather tired out with thinking. I
+think I shall go and look in at the club.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Hyacinth Waits
+
+
+'He's coming this afternoon, Anne,' Hyacinth said. 'See that I'm really
+alone today--I mean that I'm out to everyone.'
+
+'You think, then, that he really will propose today?'
+
+'Don't be so horribly explicit. Don't you think his having to go the
+other day--because of Lady Cannon--would lead to a sort of crisis? I
+mean, either he wouldn't come here again, or else--'
+
+'I suppose it would,' said Anne. 'At least, it would if he had some
+glimmering of his own intentions. But he's in such a very
+undecided state.'
+
+'Well, don't let's worry about his intentions. At any rate, he's coming
+to see me. The question is, what shall I wear?'
+
+'It doesn't matter in the least. You attach a ridiculous amount of
+importance to dress.'
+
+'Perhaps; but I must wear something. So what shall it be?'
+
+'Well, if you want to look prepared for a proposal--so as to give him a
+sort of hint--you'd better wear your pale mauve dress. It's becoming,
+and it looks festive and spring-like.'
+
+'Oh, Anne! Why, it's ever so much too smart! It would be quite
+ridiculous. Just like you, advising pale mauve _crepe de Chine_ and
+Irish lace for a quiet visit in the afternoon from a friend!'
+
+'Oh! all right. Then wear your blue tailor-made dress--and the little
+boots with the cloth tops.'
+
+'Oh, good heavens, Anne! I'm not going for a bicycle ride. Because I'm
+not got up for a garden-party, it doesn't follow I must be dressed for
+mountain-climbing. Cecil hates sensible-looking clothes.'
+
+'Then I should think anything you've got would do. Or do you want to get
+a new dress?'
+
+'Of course I want to get a new dress, but not for this afternoon. It
+wouldn't be possible. Besides, I don't think it's a good plan to wear
+something different every time you see a person. It looks so
+extravagant.'
+
+'Wear your black and white, then.'
+
+'No, it isn't _intime_ enough, and the material's too rough--it's a hard
+dress.'
+
+'Oh! Funny, I had the impression you had more clothes than you knew what
+to do with, and you don't seem to have anything fit to wear.'
+
+'Why, of course, I shall wear my blue voile. How on earth could I wear
+anything else? How silly you are, Anne!'
+
+'Well, if you knew that all the time, why did you ask me?'
+
+'Are there plenty of flowers in the studio?'
+
+'Yes; but I'll get some more if you like.'
+
+'No, no; don't have too many. It looks too _arranged_.'
+
+She looked at the clock.
+
+'It won't be five just yet,' said Anne. 'It's only eleven.'
+
+'Yes; that's the awful part. What on earth shall I do till then?'
+
+'Whatever I suggested you would do the reverse.'
+
+'Shall I go for a long drive in the motor?'
+
+'That's a good idea.'
+
+'But it's a very windy day, and I might get neuralgia--not feel up to
+the mark.'
+
+'So you might. I think, perhaps, the best thing for you would be to have
+your hair waved.'
+
+'How can I sit still to have my hair waved? Besides, it makes it look
+too stiff--like a hairdresser's dummy.'
+
+'Ah! there is that. Then why not do something useful--go and be
+manicured?'
+
+'I'm afraid I shouldn't have the patience today.'
+
+'I suppose what you'd really like,' said Anne, 'would be to see Edith
+Ottley.'
+
+'No, I shouldn't. Not till tomorrow. I don't want to see anybody,' said
+Hyacinth.
+
+'Well, all right. I'm going out.'
+
+'Oh, but I can't bear to be alone.'
+
+'Then I scarcely see ...'
+
+'This afternoon especially, Anne. You must stay with me till about a
+quarter of an hour before I expect him. The horrible agony of waiting is
+so frightful! It makes me feel so ill. But I don't want you to stay
+beyond the time I expect him, in case he's late. Because then I suffer
+so much that I couldn't bear you to see it.'
+
+'I see. How jolly it must be to be in love! You _do_ seem to have a good
+time.'
+
+'When one has the slightest hope, Anne, it's simply too awful. Of
+course, if one hasn't, one bears it.'
+
+'And if one has no encouragement, I suppose one gets over it?'
+
+'I have a presentiment that everything will be all right today,' said
+Hyacinth. 'Is that a bad sign?'
+
+'There are no good signs, in your present state,' answered Anne.
+
+It was about half-past four, and Hyacinth in the blue dress, was sitting
+in the studio, where she could see both the window and the clock. Anne,
+by the fire, was watching her.
+
+'You seem very fairly calm, Hyacinth.'
+
+'I am calm,' she said. 'I am; quite calm. Except that my heart is
+beating so fast that I can hardly breathe, that I have horrible kinds of
+shivers and a peculiar feeling in my throat, I'm quite all right. Now,
+just fancy if I had to pretend I wasn't in suspense! If I had no-one to
+confide in!... Do you think he's mistaken the day? Do you think he
+thinks it's Thursday instead of Tuesday?'
+
+'That's not likely.'
+
+'I'm glad I feel so cool and calm. How ashamed I should be if he ever
+knew that I was so agitated!'
+
+'Who knows, perhaps he's feeling as uncomfortable as you are?'
+
+'Oh, no, no! There's no hope of that.... Will he telephone and put it
+off, do you think, at the last minute?'
+
+'I shouldn't think so.'
+
+'Are there any little pink cakes?'
+
+'Heaps. Far more than will ever be eaten.'
+
+'Now, don't talk to me, Anne. I'm going to read for a quarter of an
+hour.'
+
+She took up a novel and read two pages, then looked up at the clock and
+turned pale.
+
+'It's five. Is that clock fast?'
+
+'No; listen, the church clock's striking. Good-bye.'
+
+
+Anne went, and Hyacinth kissed her hand to her and arranged her hair in
+the mirror. She then sat down and resolved to be perfectly quiet.
+
+
+Ten minutes slowly ticked away, then Hyacinth went to the window, saying
+to herself that it was an unlucky thing to do. She did not remain there
+long, then walked round and round the room. Several cabs passed, each of
+which she thought was going to stop. Then she sat down again, looking
+cool and smiling, carelessly holding a book.... Each time the cab
+passed. It was half-past five, rather late under the circumstances. She
+was angry. She resolved to be very cold to him when he first came in,
+or--no, she wouldn't be cold, she would pretend she didn't know he was
+late--hadn't noticed it; or she would chaff him about it, and say she
+would never wait again. She took the letter from her pocket and read it
+again. It said:--
+
+'DEAR MISS VERNEY, 'May I come and see you at five o'clock tomorrow
+afternoon?
+
+'Yours,
+
+'CECIL REEVE.'
+
+
+Its very brevity had shown it was something urgent, but perhaps he would
+come to break off their friendship; since the awkwardness of Lady
+Cannon's visit, he must have been thinking that things couldn't go on
+like this. Then she began to recapitulate details, arguing to herself
+with all the cold, hard logic of passion.
+
+At Lord Selsey's afternoon she had given herself away by her anger, by
+the jealousy she showed, and had told him never to come and see her
+again. Immediately after that had been their meeting at the National
+Gallery, where Cecil had followed her and sought her out. Then they had
+those two delightful walks in Kensington Gardens, in which he had really
+seemed to 'like' her so much. Then the pleasant intimate little lunch,
+after which Lady Cannon had called.... In the course of these meetings
+he had told her that he and Mrs Raymond had quarrelled, that she would
+never see him again. She had felt that he was drifting to her.... How
+strangely unlike love affairs in books hers had been! In all respectable
+novels it was the man who fell in love first. No-one knew by experience
+better than Hyacinth how easily that might happen, how very often it
+did. But she, who was proud, reserved, and a little shy with all her
+expansiveness, had simply fallen hopelessly in love with him at first
+sight. It was at that party at the Burlingtons. She realised now that
+she had practically thought of nothing else since. Probably she was
+spoilt, for she had not foreseen any difficulty; she had had always far
+more admirers than she cared for, and her difficulties had usually been
+in trying to get rid of them. He seemed to like her, but that was all.
+Mrs Raymond was, of course, the reason, but Mrs Raymond was over. She
+looked up at the clock again.
+
+Ten minutes to six. Perhaps he had made it up with Mrs Raymond?... For
+the next ten minutes she suffered extraordinary mental tortures, then
+her anger consoled her a little. He had treated her too rudely! It was
+amazing--extraordinary! He was not worth caring for. At any rate, it
+showed he didn't care for her.... If it was some unavoidable accident,
+couldn't he have telephoned or telegraphed?... No; it was one of those
+serious things that one can only write about. He was with Mrs Raymond,
+she felt sure of that. But Mrs Raymond didn't like him.... Perhaps,
+after all, he had only been detained in some extraordinary way, she
+might hear directly....
+
+She went up to her room, and was slightly consoled for the moment to
+find the clock there five minutes slower than the one in the
+drawing-room. She again arranged her hair and went into the hall, where
+she found two or three cards of people who had called, and been told she
+was out--an irritating detail--for nothing! Then she went back to
+the studio.
+
+Even to be in the place where she had been waiting for him was
+something, it gave her a little illusion that he would be here again....
+Could he really be an hour and a quarter late? It was just possible.
+
+She heard a ring. Every sign of anxiety disappeared from her face. She
+was beaming, and got back into the old attitude, holding the book. She
+could hear her heart beating while there was some parley in the hall.
+Unable to bear it any more, she opened the door. It was someone with
+a parcel.
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'It's only the new candle-shades, miss. Shall I bring them in for you to
+see?'
+
+'No, thank you....'
+
+Candle-shades!
+
+She put her hands over her eyes and summoned all her pride. Probably the
+very butler and her maid knew perfectly well she had been waiting at
+home alone for Mr Reeve. She cared absolutely nothing what they thought;
+but she felt bitter, revengeful to him. It was cruel.
+
+Why did she care so much? She remembered letters and scenes with other
+people--people whose sufferings about her she felt always inclined to
+laugh at. She couldn't believe in it. Love in books had always seemed to
+her, although intensely interesting, just a trifle absurd. She couldn't
+realise it till now.
+
+Another ring. Perhaps it was he after all! ...
+
+The same position. The book, the bright blue eyes....
+
+The door opened; Anne came in. It was striking seven o'clock.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Eugenia
+
+
+Meanwhile Cecil had received a note from his uncle, asking him to go and
+see him. He decided he would do so on his way to see Hyacinth.
+
+For many days now he had not seen Mrs Raymond. She had answered no
+letters, and been always 'out' to him.
+
+As he walked along, he wondered what had become of her, and tried to
+think he didn't care.
+
+'I have news for you, Cecil,' said his uncle; 'but, first, you really
+have made up your mind, haven't you, to try your luck with Hyacinth?
+What a pretty perfumed name it is--just like her.'
+
+'I suppose I shall try.'
+
+'Good. I'm delighted to hear it. Then in a very short time I shall hear
+that you're as happy as I am.'
+
+'As you, Uncle Ted?'
+
+'Look at this house, Cecil. It's full of Things; it wants looking after.
+I want looking after.... I am sure you wouldn't mind--wouldn't be vexed
+to hear I was going to marry again?'
+
+'Rather not. I'm glad. It must be awfully lonely here sometimes. But I
+am surprised, I must say. Everybody looks upon you as a confirmed
+widower, Uncle Ted.'
+
+'Well, so I have been a confirmed widower--for eighteen years. I think
+that's long enough.'
+
+Cecil waited respectfully.
+
+Then his uncle said abruptly--
+
+'I saw Mrs Raymond yesterday.'
+
+Cecil started and blushed.
+
+'Did you? Where did you meet her?'
+
+'I didn't meet her. I went to see her. I spent two hours with her.'
+
+Cecil stared in silent amazement.
+
+'It was my fourth visit,' said Lord Selsey.
+
+'You spent all that time talking over my affairs?'
+
+His uncle gave a slight smile. 'Indeed not, Cecil. After the first few
+minutes of the first visit, frankly, we said very little about you.'
+
+'But I don't understand.'
+
+'I've been all this time trying to persuade her to something--against
+her judgement. I've been trying to persuade her to marry.'
+
+'To marry me?'
+
+'No. To marry me. And I've succeeded.'
+
+'I congratulate you,' said Cecil, in a cold, hard voice.
+
+'You're angry, my boy. It's very natural; but let me explain to you how
+it happened.'
+
+He paused, and then went on: 'Of course, for years I've wished for the
+right woman here. But I never saw her. I thought I never should. That
+day she came here--the musical party--the moment I looked at her, I saw
+that she was meant for me, not for you.'
+
+'I call it a beastly shame,' said Cecil.
+
+'It isn't. It's absolutely right. You know perfectly well she never
+would have cared for you in the way you wished.'
+
+Cecil could not deny that, but he said sarcastically--
+
+'So you fell in love with her at first sight?'
+
+'Oh no, I didn't. I'm not in love with her now. But I think she's
+beautiful. I mean she has a beautiful soul--she has atmosphere, she has
+something that I need. I could live in the same house with her in
+perfect harmony for ever. I could teach her to understand my Things. She
+does already by instinct.'
+
+'You're marrying her as a kind of custodian for your collection?'
+
+'A great deal, of course. And, then, I couldn't marry a young girl. It
+would be ridiculous. A society woman--a regular beauty--would jar on me
+and irritate me. She would think herself more important than my
+pictures.'
+
+Cecil could hardly help a smile, angry as he was.
+
+'And Mrs Raymond,' went on Lord Selsey, 'is delightfully unworldly--and
+yet sensible. Of course, she's not a bit in love with me either. But she
+likes me awfully, and I persuaded her. It was all done by argument.'
+
+'I could never persuade her,' said Cecil bitterly.
+
+'Of course not. She has such a sense of form. She saw the
+incongruity.... I needn't ask you to forgive me, old boy. I know, of
+course, there's nothing to forgive. You've got over your fancy, or you
+will very soon. I haven't injured you in any sort of way, and I didn't
+take her away from you. She's ten years older than you, and nine years
+younger than me.... You're still my heir just the same. This will make
+no difference, and you'll soon be reconciled. I'm sure of that.'
+
+'Of course, I'm not such a brute as not to be glad, for her,' said Cecil
+slowly, after a slight struggle. 'It seems a bit rough, though, at
+first.' He held out his hand.
+
+'Thanks, dear old boy. You see I'm right. You can't be angry with me....
+You see it's a peculiar case. It won't be like an ordinary marriage, a
+young married couple and so on, nor a _mariage de convenance_, either,
+in the ordinary sense. Here are two lonely people intending to live
+solitary lives. Suddenly, you--_most_ kindly, I must say--introduce us.
+I, with my great experience and my instinctive _flair_, see immediately
+that this is the right woman in the right place. I bother her until she
+consents--and there you are.'
+
+'I hope you'll be happy.'
+
+They shook hands in silence, and Cecil got into a hansom and drove
+straight to Mrs Raymond's. He was furious.
+
+
+While Hyacinth, whose very existence he had forgotten in the shock and
+anger of this news, was feeling, with the agonising clairvoyance of
+love, that Cecil was with Mrs Raymond, she was perfectly right.
+
+Today Eugenia was at home, and did not refuse to see him.
+
+'I see you know,' she remarked coolly as he came in.
+
+Cecil had controlled his emotion when with his uncle, but seeing Mrs
+Raymond again in the dismal little old drawing-room dealt him a terrible
+blow. He saw, only too vividly, the picture of his suave, exquisite
+uncle, standing out against this muddled, confused background, in the
+midst of decoration which was one long disaster and furniture that was
+one desperate failure. To think that the owner of Selsey House had spent
+hours here! The thought was jealous agony.
+
+'I must congratulate you,' he said coldly.
+
+'Thank you, Cecil.'
+
+'I thought you were never going to marry again?' he said sarcastically.
+
+'I never do, as a rule. But this is an exception. And it isn't going to
+be like an ordinary marriage. We shall each have complete freedom. He
+persuaded me--to look after that lovely house. It will give me an object
+in life. And besides, Cecil,' she was laughing, 'think--to be your aunt!
+The privilege!'
+
+He seized her by the shoulders. She laughed still more, and put one hand
+on the bell, at which he released her. He walked away so violently that
+he knocked down a screen.
+
+'There, that will do,' said Eugenia, picking it up. 'You've made your
+little scene, and shown your little temper, and that's enough. Sit
+down,' she commanded.
+
+Cecil sat down, feeling a complete fool.
+
+'Look here. I daresay that it's a little annoying for you, at first,
+especially as you introduced us; but really, when you come to think it
+over, there's no law of etiquette, or any other that I know of, which
+compels me to refuse the uncle of a young man who has done me the honour
+to like me. Oh, Cecil, don't be absurd!'
+
+'Are you in love with him?'
+
+'No. But I think he will be very pleasant--not worrying and
+fidgeting--so calm and kind. I refused at first, Cecil. People always
+want what they can't get, and if it's any satisfaction to you, I don't
+mind confessing that I have had, for years, a perfect mania for somebody
+else. A hopeless case for at least three reasons: he's married, he's in
+love with someone else (not even counting his wife, who counts a great
+deal) and, if he hadn't either of these preoccupations, he would never
+look at me. So I've given it up. I've made up my mind to forget it. Your
+uncle will help me, and give me something else to think about.'
+
+'Who was the man?' Cecil asked. It was some slight satisfaction to know
+that she also had had a wasted affection.
+
+'Why should I tell you? I shall not tell you. Well, I will tell you.
+It's Sir Charles Cannon.'
+
+'Old Cannon?'
+
+'Yes; it was a sort of mad hero-worship. I never could account for it. I
+always thought him the most wonderful person. He hasn't the faintest
+idea of it, and never will; and now don't let's speak of him again.'
+
+The name reminded Cecil of Hyacinth. He started violently, remembering
+his appointment. What must she have thought of him?
+
+'Good-bye, Eugenia,' he said.
+
+As he held her hand he felt, in a sense, as if it was in some strange
+way, after all, a sort of triumph for him, a score that Lord Selsey had
+appreciated her so wonderfully.
+
+
+As he left the house it struck seven. What was he to do about Hyacinth?
+
+
+That evening Hyacinth received a large basket of flowers and a letter,
+in which Cecil threw himself on her mercy, humbling himself to the
+earth, and imploring her to let him come and explain and apologise next
+day. He entreated her to be kind enough to let him off waiting till a
+conventional hour, and to allow him to call in the morning.
+
+He received a kind, forgiving answer, and then spent the most miserable
+night of his life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Bruce has Influenza
+
+
+All women love news of whatever kind; even bad news gives them merely a
+feeling of pleasurable excitement, unless it is something that affects
+them or those they love personally.
+
+Edith was no exception to the rule, but she knew that Bruce, on the
+contrary, disliked it; if it were bad he was angry and said it served
+the people right, while if it were good he thought they didn't deserve
+it and disapproved strongly. Bruce spent a great deal of his time and
+energy in disapproving; generally of things and people that were no
+concern of his. As is usually the case, this high moral attitude was
+caused by envy. Bruce would have been much surprised to hear it, but
+envy was the keynote of his character, and he saw everything that
+surrounded him through its vague mist.
+
+All newspapers made him furious. He regarded everything in them as a
+personal affront; from the fashionable intelligence, describing
+political dinners in Berkeley Square or dances in Curzon Street, where
+he thought he should have been present in the important character of
+host, to notices of plays--plays which he felt he could have written so
+well. Even sensational thefts irritated him; perhaps he unconsciously
+fancied that the stolen things (Crown jewels, and so forth) should by
+rights have been his, and that he would have known how to take care of
+them. 'Births, Marriages, and Deaths' annoyed him intensely. If he read
+that Lady So-and-So had twin sons, the elder of whom would be heir to
+the title and estates, he was disgusted to think of the injustice that
+he hadn't a title and estates for Archie to inherit, and he mentally
+held the newly-arrived children very cheap, feeling absolutely certain
+that they would compare most unfavourably with his boy, excepting, of
+course, in the accident of their worldly circumstances. Also, although
+he was proud of having married, and fond of Edith, descriptions of
+'Society Weddings of the Week' drove him absolutely wild--wild to think
+that he and Edith, who deserved it, hadn't had an Archbishop, choirboys,
+guardsmen with crossed swords to walk under, and an amethyst brooch from
+a member of the Royal Family at their wedding. New discoveries in
+science pained him, for he knew that he would have thought of them long
+before, and carried them out much better, had he only had the time.
+
+Bruce had had influenza, and when Edith came in with her news, she could
+not at once make up her mind to tell him, fearing his anger.
+
+He was lying on the sofa with the paper, grumbling at the fuss made
+about the Sicilian players, of whom he was clearly jealous.
+
+She sat down by his side and agreed with him.
+
+'I'm much worse since you went out. You know the usual results of
+influenza, don't you? Heart failure, or nervous depression liable to
+lead to suicide.'
+
+'But you're much better, dear. Dr Braithwaite said it was wonderful how
+quickly you threw it off.'
+
+'Threw it off! Yes, but that's only because I have a marvellous
+constitution and great will-power. If I happened to have had less
+strength and vitality, I might easily have been dead by now. I wish
+you'd go and fetch me some cigarettes, dear. I have none left.'
+
+She got up and went to the door.
+
+'What are you fidgeting about, Edith?' said he. '_Can't_ you keep still?
+It's not at all good for a convalescent to have a restless person
+with him.'
+
+'Why, I was only going to fetch--'
+
+'I know you were; but you should learn repose, dear. First you go out
+all the morning, and when you come home you go rushing about the room.'
+
+She sat down again and decided to tell him.
+
+'You'll be glad to hear,' she said, 'that Hyacinth and Cecil Reeve are
+engaged. They are to be married in the autumn.'
+
+Guessing she expected him to display interest, he answered irritably--
+
+'I don't care. It has nothing to do with me.'
+
+'No, of course not.'
+
+'I never heard anything so idiotic as having a wedding in the autumn. A
+most beastly time, I think--November fogs.'
+
+'I heard something else,' said Edith, 'which surprised me much more.
+Fancy, Lord Selsey's going to be married--to Mrs Raymond. Isn't that
+extraordinary?'
+
+'Lord Selsey--a widower! Disgusting! I thought he pretended to be so
+fond of his first wife.'
+
+'He was, dear, I believe. But she died eighteen years ago, and--'
+
+'Instead of telling me all this tittle-tattle it would be much better if
+you did as I asked you, Edith, and fetched me the cigarettes. I've asked
+you several times. Of course I don't want to make a slave of you. I'm
+not one of those men who want their wives to be a drudge. But, after
+all, they're only in the next room. It isn't a _very_ hard task! And I'm
+very weak, or I'd go myself.'
+
+She ran out and brought them back before he could stop her again.
+
+'Who is this Mrs Raymond?' he then asked.
+
+'Oh, she's a very nice woman--a widow. Really quite suitable in age to
+Lord Selsey. Not young. She's not a bit pretty and not in his set at
+all. He took the most violent fancy to her at first sight, it seems. She
+had vowed never to marry again, but he persuaded her.'
+
+'Well,' said Bruce, striking a match, 'they didn't consult me! They must
+go their own way. I'm sorry for them, of course. Lord Selsey always
+seemed to me a very agreeable chap, so it seems rather a pity. At the
+same time, I suppose it's a bad thing--in the worldly sense--for Reeve,
+and _that's_ satisfactory.'
+
+'Oh! I think he's all right, said Edith, and she smiled thoughtfully.
+
+'You're always smiling, Edith,' he complained. 'Particularly when I have
+something to annoy me.'
+
+'Am I? I believe I read in the "Answers to Correspondents" in _Home
+Chirps_ that a wife should always have a bright smile if her husband
+seemed depressed.'
+
+'Good heavens! How awful! Why, it would be like living with a Cheshire
+cat!'
+
+Edith warmly began to defend herself from the accusation, when Bruce
+stopped her by saying that his temperature had gone up, and asking her
+to fetch the clinical thermometer.
+
+Having snatched it from her and tried it, he turned pale and said in a
+hollow voice--
+
+'Telephone to Braithwaite. At once. Say it's urgent. Poor little Edith!'
+
+'What is it?' she cried in a frightened voice.
+
+'I'd better not tell you,' he said, trying to hide it.
+
+'Tell me--oh! tell me!'
+
+'It's a hundred and nineteen. Now don't waste time. You meant no harm,
+dear, but you worried and excited me. It isn't your fault. Don't blame
+yourself. Of course, you _would_ do it.'
+
+'Oh, I know what it is,' cried Edith. 'I dipped it in boiling water
+before I gave it to you.'
+
+'Idiot! You might have broken it!' said Bruce.
+
+The explanation seemed to annoy him very much; nevertheless he often
+referred afterwards to the extraordinary way his temperature used to
+jump about, which showed what a peculiarly violent, virulent, dangerous
+form of influenza he had had, and how wonderful it was he had thrown it
+off, in spite of Edith's inexperienced, not to say careless, nursing,
+entirely by his own powerful will and indomitable courage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+'Engaged'
+
+
+Lady Cannon sat in her massive, florid clothes, that always seemed part
+of her massive, florid furniture, and to have the same expression of
+violent, almost ominous conventionality, without the slightest touch of
+austerity to tone it down. Her throat and figure seemed made solely to
+show off dog-collars and long necklaces; her head seemed constructed
+specially for the wearing of a dark red royal fringe and other
+ornaments. Today she was in her most cheerful and condescending mood, in
+fact she was what is usually called in a good temper. It was a great
+satisfaction to her that Hyacinth was at last settled; and she decided
+to condone the rather wilful way in which the engagement had been
+finally arranged without reference to her. With the touch of somewhat
+sickly sentiment common to most hard women, she took great pleasure in a
+wedding (if it were only moderately a suitable one), and was prepared to
+be arch and sympathetic with the engaged couple whom she expected today
+to pay her a formal visit.
+
+She was smiling to herself as she turned a bracelet on her left wrist,
+and wondered if she and Sir Charles need really run to a tiara, since
+after all they weren't Hyacinth's parents, and was wishing they could
+get off with giving her a certain piece of old lace that had been in the
+family for years, and could never be arranged to wear, when Sir
+Charles came in.
+
+'Ah, Charles, that's right. I wish you to be here to welcome Hyacinth
+and her fiance. I'm expecting them directly.'
+
+'I can't possibly be here,' he said. 'I have a most urgent appointment.
+I've done all the right things. I've written to them, and gone to see
+Hyacinth, and we've asked them to dinner. No more is necessary. Of
+course, let them understand that I--I quite approve, and all that. And I
+really think that's quite enough.'
+
+He spoke rather irritably.
+
+'Really, Charles, how morose you've grown. One would think you disliked
+to see young people happy together. I always think it's such a pretty
+sight. Especially as it's a regular love match.'
+
+'No doubt; no doubt. Charming! But I have an appointment; I must go at
+once.'
+
+'With whom, may I ask?'
+
+'With St Leonards,' he answered unblushingly.
+
+'Oh! Oh well, of course, they'll understand you couldn't keep the Duke
+waiting. I'll mention it; I'll explain. I shall see a little more of
+Hyacinth just now, Charles. It'll be the right thing. An engaged girl
+ought to be chaperoned by a connection of the family--of some weight.
+Not a person like that Miss Yeo. I shall arrange to drive out with
+Hyacinth and advise her about her trousseau, and....'
+
+'Yes; do as you like, but spare me the details.'
+
+Lady Cannon sighed.
+
+'Ah, Charles, you have no romance. Doesn't the sight of these happy
+young people bring back the old days?'
+
+The door shut. Lady Cannon was alone.
+
+'He has no soul,' she said to herself, using a tiny powder-puff.
+
+
+The young people, as they were now called, had had tea with her in her
+magnificent drawing-room. She had said and done everything that was
+obvious, kind, and tedious. She had held Hyacinth's hand, and shaken a
+forefinger at Cecil, and then she explained to them that it would be
+much more the right thing now for them to meet at her house, rather than
+at Hyacinth's--a recommendation which they accepted with complete
+(apparent) gravity, and in fact she seemed most anxious to take entire
+possession of them--to get the credit of them, as it were, as a social
+sensation.
+
+'And now,' she said, 'what do you think I'm going to do? If you won't
+think me very rude' (threatening forefinger again), 'I'm going to leave
+you alone for a little while. I shan't be very long; but I have to write
+a letter, and so on, and when I come back I shall have on my bonnet, and
+I'll drive Hyacinth home.'
+
+'It's most awfully kind of you, Auntie, but Cecil's going to drive me
+back.'
+
+'No, no, no! I insist, I insist! This dear child has been almost like a
+daughter to me, you know,' pressing a lace-edged little handkerchief,
+scented with Ess Bouquet, to a dry little eye. 'You mustn't take her
+away all at once! Will you be very angry if I leave you?' and laughing
+in what she supposed to be an entirely charming manner, she glided, as
+though on castors, in her fringed, embroidered, brocaded dress from
+the room.
+
+'Isn't she magnificent?' said Cecil.
+
+'You know she has a reputation for being remarkable for sound sense,'
+said Hyacinth.
+
+'Well, she's shown it at last!'
+
+She laughed.
+
+He took a stroll round the room. It was so high, so enormous, with so
+much satin on the walls, so many looking-glasses, so much white paint,
+so many cabinets full of Dresden china, that it recalled, by the very
+extremity of the contrast of its bright hideousness, that other ugly,
+dismal little room, also filled with false gods, of a cheap and very
+different kind, in which he had had so much poignant happiness.
+
+'Hyacinth,' he said, rather quaintly, 'do you know what I'm doing? I
+want to kiss you, and I'm looking for a part of the room in which it
+wouldn't be blasphemous!'
+
+'You can't find one, Cecil. I couldn't--here. And her leaving us alone
+makes it all the more impossible.'
+
+The girl was seated on a stiff, blue silk settee, padded and buttoned,
+and made in a peculiar form in which three people can sit, turning their
+backs to one another. She leant her sweet face on her hand, her elbow on
+the peculiar kind of mammoth pincushion that at once combined and
+separated the three seats. (It had been known formerly as a 'lounge'--a
+peculiarly unsuitable name, as it was practically impossible not to sit
+in it bolt upright.)
+
+Cecil stood opposite and looked down at her.
+
+Happiness, and the hope of happiness, had given her beauty a different
+character. There was something touching, troubling about her. It seemed
+to him that she had everything: beauty, profane and spiritual; deep blue
+eyes, in which he could read devotion; womanly tenderness, and a
+flower-like complexion; a perfect figure, and a beautiful soul. He could
+be proud of her before the world, and he could delight in her in
+private. She appealed, he thought, to everything in a man--his vanity,
+his intellect, and his senses. The better he knew her, the more
+exquisite qualities he found in her. She was sweet, clever, good, and
+she vibrated to his every look. She was sensitive, and passionate. She
+was adorable. He was too fortunate! Then why did he think of a pale,
+tired, laughing face, with the hair dragged off the forehead, and
+Japanese eyes?... What folly! It was a recurring obsession.
+
+
+'Cecil, what are you thinking about?'
+
+'Of you.'
+
+'Do you love me? Will you always love me? Are you happy?'
+
+He made no answer, but kissed the questions from her lips, and from his
+own heart.
+
+So Lady Cannon, after rattling the handle of the door, came in in her
+bonnet, and found them, as she had expected. Then she sent Cecil away
+and drove Hyacinth home, talking without ceasing during the drive of
+bridesmaids, choral services, bishops, travelling-bags, tea-gowns, and
+pretty little houses in Mayfair.
+
+Hyacinth did not hear a single word she said, so, as Lady Cannon
+answered all her own questions in the affirmative, and warmly agreed
+with all her own remarks, she quite enjoyed herself, and decided that
+Hyacinth had immensely improved, and that Ella was to come back for
+the wedding.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+The Strange Behaviour of Anne
+
+
+It was a spring-like, warm-looking, deceptive day, with a bright sun and
+a cold east wind.
+
+Anne sat, a queer-looking figure, in an unnecessary mackintosh and a
+golf-cap, on a bench in a large open space in Hyde Park, looking
+absently at some shabby sheep. She had come here to be alone, to think.
+Soon she would be alone as much as she liked--much more. She had
+appeared quite sympathetically cheerful, almost jaunty, since her
+friend's engagement. She could not bear anyone to know her real
+feelings. Hyacinth had been most sweet, warmly affectionate to her;
+Cecil delightful. They had asked her to go and stay with them. Lady
+Cannon had graciously said, 'I suppose you will be looking out for
+another situation now, Miss Yeo?' and others had supposed she would go
+back to her father's Rectory, for a time, at any rate.
+
+Today the wedding had been definitely fixed, and she had come out to
+give way to the bitterness of her solitude.
+
+She realised that she had not the slightest affection for anyone in the
+world except Hyacinth, and that no-one had any for her, on anything like
+the same scale.
+
+Anne was a curious creature. Her own family had always been absolutely
+indifferent to her, and from her earliest youth she had hated and
+despised all men that she had known. Sir Charles Cannon was the only
+human being for whom she felt a little sympathy, instinctively knowing
+that under all his amiable congratulations he disliked Hyacinth's
+marriage almost as much as she did, and in the same way.
+
+All the strength of her feelings and affections, then, which in the
+ordinary course would have gone in other channels, Anne had lavished on
+Hyacinth. She adored her as if she had been her own child. She
+worshipped her like an idol. As a matter of fact, being quite
+independent financially, it was not as a paid companion at all that she
+had lived with her, though she chose to appear in that capacity. And,
+besides, Hyacinth herself, Anne had, in a most superlative degree,
+enjoyed the house, her little authority, the way she stood between
+Hyacinth and all tedious little practical matters. Like many a woman who
+was a virago at heart, Anne had a perfect passion for domestic matters,
+for economy, for managing a house. Of course she had always known that
+the pretty heiress was sure to marry, but she hoped the evil day would
+be put off, and somehow it annoyed her to such an acute extent because
+Hyacinth was so particularly pleased with the young man.
+
+As she told Anne every thought, and never dreamt of concealing any
+nuance or shade of her sentiments, Anne had suffered a good deal.
+
+It vexed her particularly that Hyacinth fancied Cecil so unusual, while
+she was very certain that there were thousands and thousands of
+good-looking young men in England in the same position who had the same
+education, who were precisely like him. There was not a pin to choose
+between them. How many photographs in groups Cecil had shown them, when
+she and Hyacinth went to tea at his rooms! Cecil in a group at Oxford,
+in an eleven, as a boy at school, and so forth! While Hyacinth
+delightedly recognised Cecil, Anne wondered how on earth she could tell
+one from the other. Of course, he was not a bad sort. He was rather
+clever, and not devoid of a sense of humour, but the fault Anne really
+found with him, besides his taking his privileges so much as a matter of
+course, was that there was nothing, really, to find fault with. Had he
+been ugly and stupid, she could have minded it less.
+
+Now what should she do? Of course she must remain with Hyacinth till the
+marriage, but she was resolved not to go to the wedding, although she
+had promised to do so. Both Hyacinth and Cecil really detested the
+vulgarity of a showy fashionable wedding as much as she did, and it was
+to be moderated, toned down as much as possible. But Anne couldn't stand
+it--any of it--and she wasn't going to try.
+
+As she sat there, wrapped up in her egotistic anguish, two young people,
+probably a shop-girl and her young man, passed, sauntering along,
+holding hands, and swinging their arms. Anne thought that they were, if
+anything, less odious than the others, but the stupidity of their
+happiness irritated her, and she got up to go back.
+
+She felt tired, and though it was not far, she decided, with her usual
+unnecessary economy, to go by omnibus down Park Lane.
+
+As she got out and felt for the key in her pocket, she thought how soon
+she would no longer be able to go into her paradise and find the lovely
+creature waiting to confide in her, how even now the lovely creature was
+in such a dream of preoccupied happiness that, quick as she usually was,
+she was now perfectly blind to her friend's jealousy. And, indeed, Anne
+concealed it very well. It was not ordinary jealousy either. She was
+very far from envying Hyacinth. She only hated parting with her.
+
+
+As she passed the studio she heard voices, and looked in, just as she
+was, with a momentary desire to _gener_ them.
+
+Of course they got up, Hyacinth blushing and laughing, and entreated her
+to come in.
+
+She sat there a few minutes, hoping to chill their high spirits, then
+abruptly left them in the middle of a sentence.
+
+
+At dinner that evening she appeared quite as usual. She had taken a
+resolution.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+Bruce Convalescent
+
+
+'It's very important,' said Bruce, 'that I don't see too many people at
+a time. You must arrange the visitors carefully. Who is coming this
+afternoon?'
+
+'I don't know of anyone, except perhaps your mother, and Mr Raggett.'
+
+'Ah! Well, I can't see them both at once.'
+
+'Really? Why not?'
+
+'Why not? What a question! Because it would be a terrible fatigue for
+me. I shouldn't be able to stand it. In fact I'm not sure that I ought
+to see Raggett at all.'
+
+'Don't, then. Leave a message to say that after all you didn't feel
+strong enough.'
+
+'But, if we do that, won't he think it rather a shame, poor chap? As I
+said he could come, doesn't it seem rather hard lines for him to come
+all this way--it is a long distance, mind you--and then see nobody?'
+
+'Well, I can see him.'
+
+Bruce looked up suspiciously.
+
+'Oh, you want to see him, do you? Alone?'
+
+'Don't be silly, Bruce. I would much rather not see him.'
+
+'Indeed, and why not? I really believe you look down on him because he's
+my friend.'
+
+'Not a bit. Well, he won't be angry; you can say that you had a relapse,
+or something, and were not well enough to see him.'
+
+'Nothing of the sort. It would be very good for me; a splendid change to
+have a little intellectual talk with a man of the world. I've had too
+much women's society lately. I'm sick of it. Ring the bell, Edith.'
+
+'Of course I will, Bruce, but what for? Is it anything I can do?'
+
+'I want you to ring for Bennett to pass me my tonic.'
+
+'Really, Bruce, it's at your elbow.' She laughed.
+
+'I suppose I've changed a good deal since my illness,' said he looking
+in the glass with some complacency.
+
+'You don't look at all bad, dear.'
+
+'I know I'm better; but sometimes, just as people are recovering, they
+suddenly have a frightful relapse. Braithwaite told me I would have to
+be careful for some time.'
+
+'How long do you suppose he meant?'
+
+'I don't know--five or six years, I suppose. It's the heart. That's
+what's so risky in influenza.'
+
+'But he said your heart was all right.'
+
+'Ah, so he thinks. Doctors don't know everything. Or perhaps it's what
+he says. It would never do to tell a heart patient he was in immediate
+danger, Edith; why, he might die on the spot from the shock.'
+
+'Yes, dear; but, excuse my saying so, would he have taken me aside and
+told me you were perfectly well, and that he wouldn't come to see you
+again, if you were really in a dangerous state?'
+
+'Very possibly. I don't know that I've so very much confidence in
+Braithwaite. I practically told him so. At least I suggested to him,
+when he seemed so confident about my recovery, that he should have a
+consultation. I thought it only fair to give him every chance.'
+
+'And what did he say?'
+
+'He didn't seem to see it. Just go and get the cards, Edith, that have
+been left during my illness. It's the right thing for me to write to
+everyone, and thank them for their kindness.'
+
+'But there are no cards, dear.'
+
+'No cards?'
+
+'You see, people who knew you were ill inquired by telephone, except
+your mother, and she never leaves a card.'
+
+He seemed very disgusted.
+
+'That's it,' he said. 'That's just like life; "laugh, and the world
+laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone!" Get out of the running, and
+drop aside, and you're forgotten. And I'm a fairly popular man, too; yet
+I might have died like a dog in this wretched little flat, and not a
+card.--What's that ring?'
+
+'It must be your mother.'
+
+Bruce leant back on the sofa in a feeble attitude, gave Edith directions
+to pull the blinds a little way down, and had a vase of roses placed
+by his side.
+
+Then his mother was shown in.
+
+'Well, how is the interesting invalid? Dear boy, how well you look! How
+perfectly splendid you look!'
+
+'Hush, Mother,' said Bruce, with a faint smile, and in a very low voice.
+'Sit down, and be a little quiet. Yes, I'm much better, and getting on
+well; but I can't stand much yet.'
+
+'Dear, dear! And what did the doctor say?' she asked Edith.
+
+'He won't come any more,' said Edith.
+
+'Isn't he afraid you will be rushing out to the office too soon--
+over-working? Oh well, Edith will see that you take care of yourself.
+Where's little Archie?'
+
+'Go and see him in the nursery,' said Bruce, almost in a whisper. 'I
+can't stand a lot of people in here.'
+
+'Archie's out,' said Edith.
+
+There was another ring.
+
+'That's how it goes on all day long,' said Bruce. 'I don't know how it's
+got about, I'm sure. People never cease calling! It's an infernal
+nuisance.'
+
+'Well, it's nice to know you're not neglected,' said his mother.
+
+'Neglected? Why, it's been more like a crowded reception than an
+invalid's room.'
+
+'It's Mr Raggett,' said Edith; 'I heard his voice. Will you see him or
+not, dear?'
+
+'Yes. Presently. Take him in the other room, and when the mater goes he
+can come in here.'
+
+'I'm going now,' said Mrs Ottley; 'you mustn't have a crowd. But really,
+Bruce, you're better than you think.'
+
+'Ah, I'm glad you think so. I should hate you to be anxious.'
+
+'Your father wanted to know when you would be able to go to the office
+again.'
+
+'That entirely depends. I may be strong enough in a week or two, but I
+promised Braithwaite not to be rash for Edith's sake. Well, good-bye,
+Mother, if you must go.'
+
+She kissed him, left a box of soldiers for Archie and murmured to
+Edith--
+
+'What an angel Bruce is! So patient and brave. Perfectly well, of
+course. He has been for a week. He'll go on thinking himself ill for a
+year--the dear pet, the image of his father! If I were you, Edith, I
+think I should get ill too; it will be the only way to get him out. What
+a perfect wife you are!'
+
+'I should like to go back with you a little,' said Edith.
+
+'Well, can't you? I'm going to Harrod's, of course. I'm always going to
+Harrod's; it's the only place I ever do go. As Bruce has a friend he'll
+let you go.'
+
+Bruce made no objection. Edith regarded it as a treat to go out with her
+mother-in-law. The only person who seemed to dislike the arrangement was
+Mr Raggett. When he found he was to be left alone with Bruce, he seemed
+on the point of bursting into tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+The Wedding
+
+
+The wedding was over. Flowers, favours, fuss and fluster, incense, 'The
+Voice that breathed o'er Eden,' suppressed nervous excitement, maddening
+delay, shuffling and whispers, acute long-drawn-out boredom of the men,
+sentimental interest of the women, tears of emotion from dressmakers in
+the background, disgusted resignation on the part of people who wanted
+to be at Kempton (and couldn't hear results as soon as they wished),
+envy and jealousy, admiration for the bride, and uncontrollable smiles
+of pitying contempt for the bridegroom. How is it that the bridegroom,
+who is, after all, practically the hero of the scene, should always be
+on that day, just when he is the man of the moment, so hugely, pitiably
+ridiculous?
+
+Nevertheless, he was envied. It was said on all sides that Hyacinth
+looked beautiful, though old-fashioned people thought she was too
+self-possessed, and her smile too intelligent, and others complained
+that she was too ideal a bride--too much like a portrait by Reynolds and
+not enough like a fashion-plate in the _Lady's Pictorial_.
+
+Sir Charles had given her away with his impassive air of almost absurd
+distinction. It had been a gathering of quite unusual good looks, for
+Hyacinth had always chosen her friends almost unconsciously with a view
+to decorative effect, and there was great variety of attraction. There
+were bridesmaids in blue, choristers in red, tall women with flowery
+hats, young men in tight frock-coats and buttonholes, fresh 'flappers'
+in plaits, beauties of the future, and fascinating, battered creatures
+in Paquin dresses, beauties of the past.
+
+As to Lady Cannon, she had been divided between her desire for the
+dramatic importance of appearing in the fairly good part of the Mother
+of the Bride, and a natural, but more frivolous wish to recall to the
+memory of so distinguished a company her success as a professional
+beauty of the 'eighties, a success that clung to her with the faded
+poetical perfume of pot-pourri, half forgotten.
+
+Old joys, old triumphs ('Who is she?' from the then Prince of Wales at
+the opera, with the royal scrutiny through the opera-glass), and old
+sentiments awoke in Lady Cannon with Mendelssohn's wedding March, and,
+certainly, she was more preoccupied with her mauve toque and her
+embroidered velvet gown than with the bride, or even with her little
+Ella, who had specially come back from school at Paris for the occasion,
+who was childishly delighted with her long crook with the floating blue
+ribbon, and was probably the only person present whose enjoyment was
+quite fresh and without a cloud.
+
+Lady Cannon was touched, all the same, and honestly would have cried,
+but that, simply, her dress was really too tight. It was a pity she had
+been so obstinate with the dressmaker about her waist for this
+particular day; an inch more or less would have made so little
+difference to her appearance before the world, and such an enormous
+amount to her own comfort. 'You look lovely, Mamma--as though you
+couldn't breathe!' Ella had said admiringly at the reception.
+
+Indeed, her comparatively quiet and subdued air the whole afternoon,
+which was put down to the tender affection she felt for her husband's
+ward, was caused solely and entirely by the cut of her costume.
+
+Obscure relatives, never seen at other times, who had given glass
+screens painted with storks and water-lilies, or silver hair-brushes or
+carriage-clocks, turned up, and were pushing at the church and cynical
+at the reception. Very smart relatives, who had sent umbrella-handles
+and photograph-frames, were charming, and very anxious to get away;
+heavy relatives, who had sent cheques, stayed very late, and took it out
+of everybody in tediousness; the girls were longing for a chance to
+flirt, which did not come; young men for an opportunity to smoke, which
+did. Elderly men, their equilibrium a little upset by champagne in the
+afternoon, fell quite in love with the bride, were humorous and jovial
+until the entertainment was over, and very snappish to their wives
+driving home.
+
+Like all weddings it had left the strange feeling of futility, the
+slight sense of depression that comes to English people who have tried,
+from their strong sense of tradition, to be festive and sentimental and
+in high spirits too early in the day. The frame of mind supposed to be
+appropriate to an afternoon wedding can only be genuinely experienced by
+an Englishman at two o'clock in the morning. Hence the dreary failure of
+these exhibitions.
+
+Lord Selsey was present, very suave and cultivated, and critical, and
+delighted to see his desire realised. Mrs Raymond was not there. Edith
+looked very pretty, but rather tired. Bruce had driven her nearly mad
+with his preparations. He had evidently thought that he would be the
+observed of all observers and the cynosure of every eye. He was terribly
+afraid of being too late or too early, and at the last moment, just
+before starting, thought that he had an Attack of Heart, and nearly
+decided not to go, but recovered when Archie was found stroking his
+father's hat the wrong way, apparently under the impression that it was
+a pet animal of some kind. Bruce had been trying, as his mother called
+it, for a week, because he thought the note written to thank them for
+their present had been too casual. Poor Edith had gone through a great
+deal on the subject of the present, for Bruce was divided by so many
+sentiments on the subject. He hated spending much money, which indeed he
+couldn't afford, and yet he was most anxious for their gift to stand out
+among the others and make a sensation.
+
+He was determined above all things to be original in his choice, and
+after agonies of indecision on the subject of fish-knives and Standard
+lamps, he suddenly decided on a complete set of Dickens. But as soon as
+he had ordered it, it seemed to him pitiably flat, and he countermanded
+it. Then they spent weary hours at Liberty's, and other places of the
+kind, when Bruce declared he felt a nervous breakdown coming on, and
+left it to Edith, who sent a fan.
+
+When Hyacinth was dressed and ready to start she asked for Anne. It was
+then discovered that Miss Yeo had not been seen at all since early that
+morning, when she had come to Hyacinth's room, merely nodded and gone
+out again. It appeared that she had left the house at nine o'clock in
+her golf-cap and mackintosh, taking the key and a parcel. This had
+surprised no-one, as it was thought that she had gone to get some little
+thing for Hyacinth before dressing. She had not been seen since.
+
+Well, it was no use searching! Everyone knew her odd ways. It was
+evident that she had chosen not to be present. Hyacinth had to go
+without saying good-bye to her, but she scribbled a note full of
+affectionate reproaches. She was sorry, but it could not be helped. She
+was disappointed, but she would see her when she came back. After all,
+at such a moment, she really couldn't worry about Anne.
+
+And so, pursued by rice and rejoicings--and ridicule from the little
+boys in the street by the awning--the newly-married couple drove to the
+station, '_en route_,' as the papers said, with delightful vagueness,
+'_for the Continent_.'
+
+
+What did they usually talk about when alone?
+
+Cecil wondered.
+
+The only thing he felt clearly, vividly, and definitely was a furious
+resentment against Lord Selsey.
+
+'Do you love me, Cecil? Will you always love me? Are you happy?'
+
+Ashamed of his strange, horrible mood of black jealousy, Cecil turned to
+his wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+Accounts
+
+
+'How about your play, Bruce? Aren't you going to work at it this
+evening?'
+
+'Why no; not just at present. I'm not in the mood. You don't understand,
+Edith. The Artist must work when the inspiration seizes him.'
+
+'Of course, I know all that, Bruce; but it's six months since you had
+the inspiration.'
+
+'Ah, but it isn't that only; but the trend of public taste is so bad--it
+gets worse and worse. Good heavens, I can't write down to the level of
+the vulgar public!'
+
+'But can you write at all?'
+
+'Certainly; certainly I can; but I need encouragement. My kind of
+talent, Edith, is like a sort of flower--are you listening?--a flower
+that needs the watering and tending, and that sort of thing, of
+appreciation. Appreciation! that's what I need--that's all I ask for.
+Besides, I'm a business man, and unless I have a proper contract with
+one of the Managers--a regular arrangement and agreement about my work
+being produced at a certain time--and, mind you, with a cast that I
+select--I just shan't do it at all.'
+
+'I see. Have you taken any steps?'
+
+'Of course I've taken steps--at least I've taken stalls at most of the
+theatres, as you know. There isn't a play going on at this moment that
+isn't full of faults--faults of the most blatant kind--mistakes that I
+myself would never have made. To begin with, for instance, take
+Shakespeare.'
+
+'Shakespeare?'
+
+'Yes. A play like _The Merchant of Venice_, for example. My dear girl,
+it's only the glamour of the name, believe me! It's a wretched play,
+improbable, badly constructed, full of padding--good gracious! do you
+suppose that if _I_ had written that play and sent it to Tree, that he
+would have put it up?'
+
+'I can't suppose it, Bruce.'
+
+'It isn't sense, Edith; it isn't true to life. Why, who ever heard of a
+case being conducted in any Court of Law as that is? Do you suppose all
+kinds of people are allowed to stand up and talk just when they like,
+and say just what they choose--in blank verse, too? Do you think now, if
+someone brought an action against me and you wanted me to win it, that
+you and Bennett could calmly walk off to the Law Courts disguised as a
+barrister and his clerk, and that you could get me off? Do you suppose,
+even, that you would be let in? People don't walk in calmly saying that
+they're barristers and do exactly what they please, and talk any
+nonsense that comes into their head.
+
+'I know that; but this is poetry, and years and years ago, in
+Elizabeth's time.'
+
+'Oh, good gracious, Edith, that's no excuse! It isn't sense. Then take a
+play like _The Merry Widow_. What about that? Do you suppose that if I
+liked I couldn't do something better than that? Look here, Edith, tell
+me, what's the point? Why are you so anxious that I should write
+this play?'
+
+He looked at her narrowly, in his suspicious way.
+
+'First of all, because I think it would amuse you.'
+
+'Amuse me, indeed!'
+
+'And then, far more, because--Bruce, do you remember assuring me that
+you were going to make L5,000 a year at least?'
+
+'Well, so I shall, so I shall. You must give a fellow time. Rome wasn't
+built in a day.'
+
+'I know it wasn't, and if it had been it would be no help to me. Will
+you look at the bills?'
+
+'Oh, confound it!'
+
+'Bruce dear, if you're not going to work at your play tonight, won't you
+just glance at the accounts?'
+
+'You know perfectly well, Edith, if there's one thing I hate more than
+another it's glancing at accounts. Besides, what good is it? What
+earthly use is it?'
+
+'Of course it would be use if you would kindly explain how I'm going to
+pay them?'
+
+'Why, of course, we'll pay them--gradually.'
+
+'But they're getting bigger gradually.'
+
+'Dear me, Edith, didn't we a year or two ago make a Budget?
+
+Didn't we write down exactly how much every single item of our
+expenditure would be?'
+
+'Yes; I know we did; but--'
+
+'Well, good heavens, what more do you want?'
+
+'Lots more. You made frightful mistakes in the Budget, Bruce; at any
+rate, it was extraordinarily under-estimated.'
+
+'Why, I remember I left a margin for unexpected calls.'
+
+'I know you left a margin, but you left out coals and clothes
+altogether.'
+
+'Oh, did I?'
+
+'And the margin went in a week, the first week of your holiday. You
+never counted holidays in the Budget.'
+
+'Oh! I--I--well, I suppose it escaped my recollection.'
+
+'Never mind that. It can't be helped now. You see, Bruce, we simply
+haven't enough for our expenses.'
+
+'Oh, then what's the use of looking at the accounts?'
+
+'Why, to see where we are. What we've done, and so on. What do you
+usually do when you receive a bill?'
+
+'I put it in the fire. I don't believe in keeping heaps of useless
+papers; it's so disorderly. And so I destroy them.'
+
+'That's all very well, but you know you really oughtn't to be in debt.
+It worries me. All I want you to do,' she continued, 'is just to go
+through the things with me to see how much we owe, how much we can pay,
+and how we can manage; and just be a little careful for the next
+few months.'
+
+'Oh, if that's all you want--well, perhaps you're right, and we'll do
+it, some time or other; but not tonight.'
+
+'Why not? You have nothing to do!'
+
+'Perhaps not; but I can't be rushed. Of course, I know it's rather hard
+for you, old girl, being married to a poor man; but you know you _would_
+do it, and you mustn't reproach me with it now.'
+
+She laughed.
+
+'We're not a bit too hard up to have a very pleasant time, if only you
+weren't so--,' then she stopped.
+
+'Go on; say it!' he exclaimed. 'You want to make out I'm extravagant,
+that's it! I _have_ large ideas, I own it; it's difficult for me to be
+petty about trifles.'
+
+'But, Bruce, I wasn't complaining at all of your large ideas. You hardly
+ever give me a farthing, and expect me to do marvels on next to nothing.
+Of course, I know you're not petty about some things.' She
+stopped again.
+
+'All right then; I'll give up smoking and golfing, and all the little
+things that make life tolerable to a hard-working man.'
+
+'Not at all, dear. Of course not. There's really only one luxury--if you
+won't think me unkind--that I think, perhaps, you might try to have
+less of.'
+
+'What is that?'
+
+'Well, dear, couldn't you manage not to be ill quite so often? You see,
+almost whenever you're bored you have a consultation. The doctors always
+say you're quite all right; but it does rather--well, run up, and you
+can't get much fun out of it. Now, don't be angry with me.'
+
+'But, good God, Edith! If I didn't take it in time, you might be left a
+young widow, alone in the world, with Archie. Penny-wise and
+pound-foolish to neglect the health of the breadwinner! Do you reproach
+me because the doctor said I wasn't dangerously ill at the time?'
+
+'Of course not; I'm only too thankful.'
+
+'I'm sure you are really, dear. Now yesterday I felt very odd, very
+peculiar indeed.'
+
+'Oh, what was it?'
+
+'An indescribable sensation. At first it was a kind of heaviness in my
+feet, and a light sensation in my head, and a curious kind of
+emptiness--nervous exhaustion, I suppose.'
+
+'It was just before lunch, no doubt. I daresay it went off. When I have
+little headache or don't feel quite up to the mark, I don't send for the
+doctor; I take no notice of it, and it goes away.'
+
+'But you, my dear--you're as strong as a horse. That reminds me, will
+you fetch me my tonic?'
+
+When she came back, he said--
+
+'Look here, Edith, I'll tell you what you shall do, if you like. You're
+awfully good, dear, really, to worry about the bills and things, though
+it's a great nuisance, but I should suggest that you just run through
+them with my mother. You know how good-natured she is. She'll be
+flattered at your consulting her, and she'll be able to advise you if
+you _have_ gone too far and got into a little debt. She knows perfectly
+well it's not the sort of thing _I_ can stand. And, of course, if she
+were to offer to help a little, well! she's my mother; I wouldn't hurt
+her feelings by refusing for anything in the world, and the mater's
+awfully fond of you.'
+
+'But, Bruce, I'd much rather--'
+
+'Oh, stop, Edith. I'm sorry to have to say it, but you're becoming
+shockingly fussy. I never thought you would have grown into a fidgety,
+worrying person. How bright you used to seem in the old days! And of
+course the whole thing about the accounts, and so on, _must_ have arisen
+through your want of management. But I won't reproach you, for I believe
+you mean well.... I've got one of my headaches coming on; I hope to
+goodness I'm not going to have an attack.'
+
+He looked in the glass. 'I'm rather an odd colour, don't you think so?'
+
+'No; I don't think so. It's the pink-shaded light.'
+
+He sighed.
+
+'Ah, suppose you had married a chap like Reeve--rolling in gold! Are he
+and Hyacinth happy, do you think?'
+
+'I think they seem very happy.'
+
+'We're lunching there on Sunday, aren't we? Don't forget to order me a
+buttonhole the day before, Edith.'
+
+'I'll remember.'
+
+She looked at her engagement-book.
+
+'It's not next Sunday, Bruce. Next Sunday we're lunching with your
+people. You'll be sure to come, won't you?'
+
+'Oh, ah, yes! If I'm well enough.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+Confidences
+
+
+'I know who you are. You're the pretty lady. Mother won't be long. Shall
+I get you my bear?'
+
+Hyacinth had come to see Edith, and was waiting for her in the little
+drawing-room of the flat. The neat white room with its miniature
+overmantel, pink walls, and brass fire-irons like toys, resembled more
+than ever an elaborate doll's house. The frail white chairs seemed too
+slender to be sat on. Could one ever write at that diminutive white
+writing-desk? The flat might have been made, and furnished by Waring,
+for midgets. Everything was still in fair and dainty repair, except that
+the ceiling, which was painted in imitation of a blue sky, was beginning
+to look cloudy. Hyacinth sat on a tiny blue sofa from where she could
+see her face in the glass. She was even prettier than before her
+marriage, now three months ago, but when in repose there was a slightly
+anxious look in her sweet, initiated eyes. She had neither the air of
+prosaic disillusion nor that of triumphant superiority that one sees in
+some young brides. She seemed intensely interested in life, but a little
+less reposeful than formerly.
+
+'Why, Archie! What a big boy you've grown!'
+
+'Shall I bring you my bear?'
+
+'Oh, no; never mind the bear. Stay and talk to me.'
+
+'Yes; but I'd better bring the bear. Mother would want me to amuse you.'
+
+He ran out and returned with his beloved animal, and put it on her lap.
+
+'Father calls him mangy, but he isn't, really. I'm going to cut its hair
+to make it grow thicker. I can say all the alphabet and lots of poetry.
+Shall I say my piece? No; I know what I'll do, I'll get you my cards,
+with E for ephalunt and X for swordfish on, and see if you can guess
+the animals.'
+
+'That would be fun. I wonder if I shall guess?'
+
+'You mustn't read the names on them, because that wouldn't be fair. You
+may only look at the pictures. Oh, won't you have tea? Do have tea.'
+
+'I think I'll wait for your mother.'
+
+'Oh, no; have tea now, quick. Then I can take some of your sugar.'
+
+Hyacinth agreed; but scarcely had this point been settled when Edith
+returned and sent him off.
+
+'Edith,' Hyacinth said, 'do you know I am rather worried about two
+things? I won't tell you the worst just yet.'
+
+'It's sure to be all your fancy,' said Edith affectionately.
+
+'Well, it isn't my fancy about Anne. Is it not the most extraordinary
+thing? Since the day of my wedding she's never been seen or heard of.
+She walked straight out into the street, and London seems to have
+swallowed her up. She took nothing with her but a large paper parcel,
+and left all her luggage, and even her dress that I made her get for the
+wedding was laid out on the bed. What can have become of her? Of course,
+I know she has plenty of money, and she could easily have bought an
+entirely new outfit, and gone away--to America or somewhere, under
+another name without telling anyone. We've inquired of her father, and
+he knows nothing about her. It really is a mysterious disappearance.'
+
+'I don't feel as if anything had happened to her,' Edith said, after a
+pause. 'She's odd, and I fancy she hated your marrying, and didn't want
+to see you again. She'll get over it and come back. Surely if there had
+been an accident, we should have heard by now. Do you miss her,
+Hyacinth?'
+
+'Of course I do, in a way. But everything's so different now. It isn't
+so much my missing her, if I only knew she was all right. There's
+something so sad about disappearing like that.'
+
+'Well, everything has been done that can be done. It's not the slightest
+use worrying. I should try and forget about it, if I were you. What's
+the other trouble?'
+
+Hyacinth hesitated.
+
+'Well, you know how perfect Cecil is to me, and yet there's one thing I
+don't like. The Selseys have come back, and have asked us there, and
+Cecil won't go. Isn't it extraordinary? Can he be afraid of meeting
+her again?'
+
+'Really, Hyacinth, you are fanciful! What now, now that she's his
+aunt--practically? Can you really still be jealous?'
+
+'Horribly,' said Hyacinth frankly. 'If she married his uncle a hundred
+times it wouldn't alter the fact that she's the only woman he's ever
+been madly in love with.'
+
+'Why, he adores you, Hyacinth!'
+
+'I am sure he does, in a way, but only as a wife!
+
+'Well, good heavens! What else do you want? You're too happy; too lucky;
+you're inventing things, searching for troubles. Why make yourself
+wretched about imaginary anxieties?'
+
+'Suppose, dear, that though he's devoted to me, we suit each other
+perfectly, and so on, yet at the back of his brain there's always a
+little niche, a little ideal for that other woman just because she never
+cared for him? I believe there will always be--always.'
+
+'Well, suppose there is; what on earth does it matter? What difference
+does it make? Why be jealous of a shadow?'
+
+'It's just because it's such a shadow that it's so intangible--so
+unconquerable. If she had ever returned his affection he might have got
+tired of her, they might have quarrelled, he might have seen through
+her--realised her age and all that, and it would have been
+over--exploded! Instead of this, he became fascinated by her, she
+refused him; and then, to make it ever so much worse for me, Lord
+Selsey, whom he's so fond of and thinks such a lot of, goes and puts her
+upon a pedestal, constantly in sight, yet completely out of reach.'
+
+'You are unreasonable, Hyacinth! Would you prefer a rival of flesh and
+blood. Don't be so fanciful, dear. It's too foolish. You've got your
+wish; enjoy it. I consider that you haven't a trouble in the world.'
+
+'Dear Edith,' said Hyacinth, 'have you troubles?'
+
+'Why, of course I have--small ones. Bruce has taken to having a
+different illness every day. His latest is that he _imagines_ he's a
+_malade imaginaire_!'
+
+'Good gracious, how complicated! What makes him think that?'
+
+'Because he's been going to specialists for everything he could think
+of, and they all say he's specially well. Still, it's better than if he
+were really ill, I suppose. Only he's very tormenting, and hardly ever
+works, and lately he's taken to making jealous scenes.'
+
+'Oh, that must be rather fun. Who is he jealous of?'
+
+'Why, he thinks he's jealous of his friend Raggett--the most impossible,
+harmless creature in the world; and the funny thing is whenever Bruce is
+jealous of anyone he keeps on inviting them--won't leave them alone. If
+I go out when Raggett appears, he says it's because I'm so deep; and if
+I stay he finds fault with everything I do. What do you advise me to do,
+Hyacinth?'
+
+'Why, give him something more genuine to worry about--flirt with a real
+person. That would do Bruce good, and be a change for you.'
+
+'I would--but I haven't got time! What chance is there for flirting when
+I have to be always contriving and economising, and every scrap of
+leisure I must be there or thereabouts in case Bruce has heart disease
+or some other illness suddenly? When you are living with a strong young
+man who thinks he's dangerously ill, flirting is not so easy as it
+sounds. When he isn't here I'm only too glad to rest by playing
+with Archie.'
+
+'I see. What do you think could cure Bruce of his imaginary maladies?'
+
+'Oh, not having to work, coming into some money. You see, it fills up
+the time which he can't afford to spend on amusements.'
+
+Edith laughed.
+
+'It's a bore for you....'
+
+'Oh, I don't mind much; but you see we all have our little troubles.'
+
+'Then, how did you say I ought to behave about the Selseys?'
+
+'Don't behave at all. Be perfectly natural, ignore it. By acting as if
+things were just as you liked, they often become so.'
+
+There was a ring on the telephone.
+
+Edith went into the next room to answer it, and came back to say--
+
+'Bruce has just rung up. He wants to know if Raggett's here. He says
+he'll be home in half an hour. He doesn't feel up to the mark, and can't
+stay at the office.'
+
+'Poor little Edith!'
+
+'And don't for goodness sake bother yourself about Cecil. As if there
+was any man in the world who hadn't liked somebody some time or other!'
+
+Hyacinth laughed, kissed her, and went away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Miss Wrenner
+
+
+One day Bruce came into the flat much more briskly than usual. There was
+a certain subdued satisfaction in his air that Edith was glad to see. He
+sat down, lit a cigarette, and said--
+
+'Edith, you know how strongly I disapprove of the modern fashion of
+husbands and wives each going their own way--don't you?'
+
+'Where are you thinking of going, dear?'
+
+'Who said I was thinking of going anywhere?'
+
+'No-one. But it's obvious, or you wouldn't have begun like that.'
+
+'Why? What did you think I was going to say next?'
+
+'Of course, you were going to say, after that sentence about "_you know
+how strongly I disapprove_," etc., something like, "_But, of course,
+there are exceptions to every rule, and in this particular instance I
+really think that I had better_," and so on. Weren't you?'
+
+'Odd. Very odd you should get it into your head that I should have any
+idea of leaving you. Is that why you're looking so cheerful--laughing
+so much?'
+
+'Am I laughing? I thought I was only smiling.'
+
+'I don't think it's a kind thing to smile at the idea of my going away.
+However, I'm sorry to disappoint you'--Bruce spoke rather
+bitterly--'very sorry indeed, for I see what a blow it will be to you.
+But, as a matter of fact, I had not intention _whatever_ of leaving you
+at all, except, perhaps, for a few hours at a time. However, of course,
+if you wish it very much I might arrange to make it longer. Or even to
+remain away altogether, if you prefer it.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce, don't talk such nonsense! You know I wish nothing of the
+kind. What's this about a few hours at a time?'
+
+'Naturally,' Bruce said, getting up and looking in the glass;
+'naturally, when one has an invitation like this--oh, I admit it's a
+compliment--I quite admit that--one doesn't want to decline it at once
+without thinking it over. Think how absurd I should appear to a man like
+that, writing to say that my wife can't possibly spare me for a couple
+of hours two or three times a week!'
+
+'A man like what? Who is this mysterious man who wants you for two or
+three hours two or three times a week?'
+
+'My dear, it can't be done without it; and though, of course, it is
+rather a nuisance, I daresay in a way it won't be bad fun. You shall
+help me, dear, and I'm sure I shall be able to arrange for you to see
+the performance. Yes! you've guessed it; I thought you would. I've been
+asked to play in some amateur theatricals that are being got up by
+Mitchell of the F O in aid of the 'Society for the Suppression of
+Numismatics', or something--I can't think why he chose me, of
+all people!'
+
+'I wonder.'
+
+'I don't see anything to wonder about. Perhaps he thought I'd do it
+well. Possibly he supposed I had talent. He may have observed, in the
+course of our acquaintance, that I was threatened with intelligence! Or
+again, of course, they want for theatricals a fellow of decent
+appearance.'
+
+'Ah, yes; of course they do.'
+
+'It would be very absurd for the heroine of the play to be madly in love
+with a chap who turned up looking like, God knows what! Not that I mean
+for a moment to imply that I'm particularly good-looking, Edith--I'm not
+such a fool as that. But--well, naturally, it's always an advantage in
+playing the part of a _jeune premier_ not to be quite bald and to go in
+decently at the waist, and to--Fancy, Miss Wrenner didn't know I was a
+married man!'
+
+'Miss Wrenner! Who's Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'Why she--Don't you know who Miss Wrenner is?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Oh, Miss Wrenner's that girl who--a friend of the Mitchells; you know.'
+
+'I _don't_ know. Miss Wrenner is quite new to me. So are the Mitchells.
+What is she like?'
+
+'_Like_!' exclaimed Bruce. 'You ask me what she's _like_! Why, she isn't
+_like_ anything. She's just Miss Wrenner--the well-known Miss Wrenner,
+who's so celebrated as an amateur actress. Why, she was going to play
+last Christmas at Raynham, only after all the performance never
+came off.'
+
+'Is Miss Wrenner pretty?'
+
+'Pretty? How do you mean?'
+
+'What colour is her hair?'
+
+'Well, I--I--I didn't notice, particularly.'
+
+'Is she dark or fair? You must know, Bruce!'
+
+'Well, I should say she was a little darker than you--not a great deal.
+But I'm not quite certain. Just fancy her not thinking I was married!'
+
+'Did you tell her?'
+
+'Tell her! Of course I didn't tell her. Do you suppose a girl like Miss
+Wrenner's got nothing to do but to listen to my autobiography? Do you
+imagine she collects marriage certificates? Do you think she makes a
+hobby of the census?'
+
+'Oh! then you didn't tell her?'
+
+'Yes, I did. Why should I palm myself off as a gay bachelor when I'm
+nothing of the sort?'
+
+'When did you tell her, Bruce?'
+
+'Why, I haven't told her yet--at least, not personally. What happened
+really was this: Mitchell said to me, "Miss Wrenner will be surprised to
+hear you're a married man," or something like that.'
+
+'Where did all this happen?'
+
+'At the office. Where else do I ever see Mitchell?'
+
+'Then does Miss Wrenner come to the office?'
+
+Bruce stared at her in silent pity.
+
+'_Miss Wrenner! At the office!_ Why you must be wool-gathering! Women
+are not allowed at the F O. Surely you know that, dear?'
+
+'Well, then, where did you meet Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'Miss Wrenner? Why do you ask?'
+
+'Simply because I want to know.'
+
+'Oh! Good heavens! What does it matter where I met Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'You're right, Bruce; it doesn't really matter a bit. I suppose you've
+forgotten.'
+
+'No; I haven't forgotten. I suppose I shall meet Miss Wrenner at the
+first rehearsal next week--at the Mitchells.'
+
+'Was it there you met her before?'
+
+'How could it be? I have never been to the Mitchells.'
+
+'As a matter of fact, you've never seen Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'Did I say I had? I didn't mean to. What I intended to convey was, not
+that I had seen Miss Wrenner, but that _Mitchell_ said Miss Wrenner
+would be surprised to hear I was married.'
+
+'Funny he should say that--very curious it should occur to him to
+picture Miss Wrenner's astonishment at the marriage of a man she didn't
+know, and had never seen.'
+
+'No--no--no; that wasn't it, dear; you've got the whole thing
+wrong--you've got hold of the wrong end of the stick. He--Mitchell, you
+know--mentioned to me the names of the people who were going to be asked
+to act, and among them, Miss Wrenner's name cropped up--I think he said
+Miss Wrenner was going to be asked to play the heroine if they could get
+her--no--I'm wrong, it was that _she_ had _asked_ to play the heroine,
+and that they meant to get out of it if they could. So, _then_, _I_
+said, wouldn't she be surprised at having to play the principal part
+with a married man.'
+
+'I see. _You_ said it, not Mitchell. Then are you playing the hero?'
+
+'Good gracious! no--of course not. Is it likely that Mitchell, who's mad
+on acting and is getting up the whole thing himself, is jolly well going
+to let me play the principal part? Is it human nature? Of course it
+isn't. You can't expect it. I never said Mitchell was not human--did I?'
+
+'What is your part, dear?'
+
+'They're going to send it to me tomorrow--typewritten. It's not a long
+part, and not very important, apparently; but Mitchell says there's a
+lot to be got out of it by a good actor; sometimes one of these
+comparatively small parts will make the hit of the evening.'
+
+'What sort of part is it?'
+
+'Oh, no particular _sort_. I don't come on until the second act. As I
+told you, one of the chief points is to have a good appearance--look a
+gentleman; that sort of thing.'
+
+'Well?'
+
+'I come on in the second act, dressed as a mandarin.'
+
+'A mandarin! Then you play the part of a Chinaman?'
+
+'No, I don't. It's at the ball. In the second act, there's a ball on the
+stage--for the hero's coming of age--and I have to be a mandarin.'
+
+'Is the ball given at the Chinese Embassy?'
+
+'No; at the hero's country house. Didn't I tell you--it's a fancy ball!'
+
+'Oh, I see! Then I shouldn't have thought it would have mattered so very
+much about whether you're good-looking or not. And Miss Wrenner--how
+will she be dressed at the fancy ball?'
+
+'Miss Wrenner? Oh! Didn't I tell you--Miss Wrenner isn't going to
+act--they've got someone else instead.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+Anne Returns
+
+
+It was about six o'clock, and Hyacinth was sitting in her boudoir alone.
+It was a lovely room and she herself looked lovely, but, for a bride of
+four months, a little discontented. She was wondering why she was not
+happier. What was this unreasonable misery, this constant care, this
+anxious jealousy that seemed to poison her very existence? It was as
+intangible as a shadow, but it was always there. Hyacinth constantly
+felt that there was something in Cecil that escaped her, something that
+she missed. And yet he was kind, affectionate, even devoted.
+
+Sometimes when they spent evenings at home together, which were calm and
+peaceful and should have been happy, the girl would know, with the
+second-sight of love, that he was thinking about Eugenia. And this
+phantom, of which she never spoke to him and could not have borne him to
+know of, tormented her indescribably. It seemed like a spell that she
+knew not how to break. It was only a thought, yet how much it made her
+suffer! Giving way for the moment to the useless and futile bitterness
+of her jealousy, she had leant her head on the cushion of the little
+sofa where she sat, when, with a sudden sensation that she was no longer
+alone, she raised it again and looked up.
+
+Standing near the door she saw a tall, thin figure with a rather wooden
+face and no expression--a queer figure, oddly dressed in a mackintosh
+and a golf-cap.
+
+'Why do you burn so much electric light?' Anne said dryly, in a
+reproachful voice, as she turned a button on the wall.
+
+Hyacinth sprang up with a cry of surprise.
+
+Anne hardly looked at her and walked round the room.
+
+'Sit down. I want to look at your new room. Silk walls and Dresden
+china. I suppose this is what is called gilded luxury. Do you ever see
+that the servants dust it, or do they do as they like?'
+
+'Anne! How can you? Do you know how anxious we've been about you? Do you
+know we weren't sure you were not dead?'
+
+'Weren't you? I wasn't very sure myself at one time. I see you took the
+chances, though, and didn't go into mourning for me. That was sensible.'
+
+'Anne, will you have the ordinary decency to tell me where you've been,
+after frightening me out of my life?'
+
+'Oh, it wouldn't interest you. I went to several places. I just went
+away because at the last minute I felt I couldn't stand the wedding.
+Besides, you had a honeymoon. I didn't see why I shouldn't. And mine was
+much jollier--freer, because I was alone. Cheaper, too, thank goodness!'
+
+'What an extraordinary creature you are, Anne! Not caring whether you
+heard from me, or of me, for four months, and then coolly walking in
+like this.'
+
+'It was the only way to walk in. I really had meant never to see you
+again, Hyacinth. You didn't want me. I was only in the way. I was no
+longer needed, now you've got that young man you were always worrying
+about. What's his name? Reeve. But I missed you too much. I was too
+bored without you. I made up my mind to take a back seat, if only I
+could see you sometimes. I had to come and have news of you. Well, and
+how do you like him now you've got him? Hardly worth all that
+bother--was he?'
+
+'I'll tell you, Anne. You are the very person I want. I need you
+immensely. You're the only creature in the world that could be the
+slightest help to me.'
+
+'Oh, so there is a crumpled rose-leaf! I told you he was exactly like
+any other young man.'
+
+'Oh, but he isn't, Anne. Tell me first about you. Where are you--where
+are you staying?'
+
+'That's my business. I'm staying with some delightful friends. You
+wouldn't know them--wouldn't want to either.'
+
+'Nonsense! You used to say you had no friends except mine. You must come
+and stay here. Cecil would be delighted to see you.'
+
+'I daresay--but I'm not coming. I may be a fool, but I'm not stupid
+enough for that. I should hate it, besides! No; but I'll look in and see
+you from time to time, and give you a word of advice. You doing
+housekeeping, indeed!' She laughed as she looked round. 'Who engaged
+your servants?'
+
+'Why, I did.'
+
+'I suppose you were too sweet and polite to ask for their characters,
+for fear of hurting their feelings? I suppose you gave them twice as
+much as they asked? This is the sort of house servants like. Do you
+allow followers?'
+
+'How should I know? No; I suppose not. Of course, I let them see their
+friends when they like. Why shouldn't they? They let me see mine.'
+
+'Yes! that's jolly of them--awfully kind. Of course you wouldn't know.
+And I suppose the young man, Cecil, or whatever you call him, is just as
+ignorant as you are, and thinks you do it beautifully?'
+
+'My dear Anne, I assure you--'
+
+'I know what you are going to say. You order the dinner. That's nothing;
+so can anyone. There's nothing clever in ordering! What are you making
+yourself miserable about? What's the matter?'
+
+'Tell me first where you're staying and what you're doing. I insist on
+being told at once.'
+
+'I'm staying with charming people. I tell you. At a boarding-house in
+Bloomsbury. I'm a great favourite there; no--now I come to think of
+it--I'm hated. But they don't want me to leave them.'
+
+'Now, Anne, why live like that? Even if you wouldn't stay with us, it's
+ridiculous of you to live in this wretched, uncomfortable way.'
+
+'Not at all. It isn't wretched, and I thoroughly enjoy it. I pay hardly
+anything, because I help with the housekeeping. Of course it isn't so
+much fun as it used to be with you. It's a little sordid; it isn't very
+pretty but it's interesting. It's not old-fashioned; there's no wax
+fruit, nor round table in the middle of the room. It's only about
+twenty-five years out of date. There are Japanese fans and bead
+curtains. They think the bead curtains--instead of folding-doors--quite
+smart and Oriental--rather wicked. Oh and we have musical evenings on
+Sundays; sometimes we play dumb crambo. Now, tell me about the little
+rift within the lute.'
+
+'I always told you every little thing, Anne--didn't I?'
+
+Anne turned away her head.
+
+'Who arranges your flowers?'
+
+'I do.'
+
+'Oh, you _do_ do something! They look all right but I did it much
+better. Oh--by the way--you mustn't think these are the only clothes
+I've got. I have a very smart tailor-made coat and skirt which I bought
+at a sale at a little shop in Brixton. I went to Brixton for the season.
+There's nothing like the suburbs for real style--I mean real, thoroughly
+English style. And the funny part is that the suburban English dresses
+all come from Vienna. Isn't it queer?'
+
+'All right, come to see me next time in your Brixton-Viennese costume,
+and we'll have a long talk. I think you're pleased I've got a little
+trouble. Aren't you?'
+
+'Oh, no--I don't want you to have trouble. But I should like you to own
+_he_ isn't so wonderful, after all.'
+
+'But I don't own that--not in the least. The thing is, you see'--she
+waited a minute--'I believe I'm still jealous of Mrs Raymond.'
+
+'But she isn't Mrs Raymond any more. You surely don't imagine that he
+flirts with his aunt?'
+
+'Of course not--how absurd you are! That's a ridiculous way to put it.
+No--he won't even see her.'
+
+'Is that what you complain of?'
+
+'His avoiding her shows he still thinks of her. It's a bad sign--isn't
+it? What I feel is, that he still puts her on a pedestal.'
+
+'Well, that's all right. Let her stay there. Now, Hyacinth, when people
+know what they want--really _want_ something acutely and definitely--and
+don't get it, I can pity them. They're frustrated--scored off by fate,
+as it were; and even if it's good for them, I'm sorry. But when they
+_have_ got what they wanted, and then find fault and are not satisfied,
+I can't give them any sympathy at all. Who was it said there is no
+tragedy like not getting your wish--except getting it? You wanted Cecil
+Reeve. You've got him. How would you have felt if the other woman had
+got him instead?'
+
+'You're right, Anne--I suppose. And yet--do you think he'll ever quite
+forget her?'
+
+'Do you think, if you really tried hard, you could manage to find out
+what your grievance is, Hyacinth?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Well, then, try; and when you've found it, just keep it. Don't part
+with it. A sentimental grievance is a resource--it's a consolation for
+all the prosaic miseries of life. Now I must go, or I shall be late for
+high tea.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+The Ingratitude of Mitchell
+
+
+Since Bruce had had the amateur-theatrical trouble, he had forgotten to
+have any other illness. But he spent many, many half-hours walking up
+and down in front of the glass rehearsing his part--which consisted of
+the words, _'Ah, Miss Vavasour, how charming you look--a true Queen of
+Night! May a humble mandarin petition for a dance?'_ He tried this in
+many different tones; sometimes serious and romantic, sometimes
+humorous, but in every case he was much pleased with his reading of the
+part and counted on a brilliant success.
+
+One evening he had come home looking perturbed, and said he thought he
+had caught a chill. Eucalyptus, quinine, sal-volatile, and clinical
+thermometers were lavishly applied, and after dinner he said he was
+better, but did not feel sufficiently up to the mark to go through his
+part with Edith as usual, and was rather silent during the rest of
+the evening.
+
+When he came down to breakfast the next morning, Edith said--
+
+'Do you know Anne's come back?'
+
+'Who's Anne?'
+
+'Anne. Hyacinth's companion. Miss Yeo, I mean.'
+
+'Come back from where?'
+
+'Don't you remember about her going away--about her mysterious
+disappearance?'
+
+'I seem to remember now. I suppose I had more important things to think
+about.'
+
+'Well, at any rate, she _has_ come back--I've just had a
+letter--Hyacinth wants me to go out with her this afternoon and hear all
+about it. At four. I can, of course; it's the day you rehearse,
+isn't it?'
+
+Bruce waited a minute, then said--
+
+'Curious thing, you _can't_ get our cook to make a hot omelette! And
+we've tried her again and again.'
+
+'It _was_ a hot omelette, Bruce--very hot--about three-quarters of an
+hour ago. Shall I order another?'
+
+'No--oh, no--pray don't--not for me. I haven't the time. I've got to
+work. You have rather a way, Edith, of keeping me talking. You seem to
+think I've nothing else to do, and it's serious that I should be
+punctual at the office. By the way--I shouldn't go out with Hyacinth
+today, if I were you--I'd rather you didn't.'
+
+'Why not, Bruce?'
+
+'Well, I may want you.'
+
+'Then aren't you going to the Mitchells'?'
+
+'The Mitchells'? No--I am certainly _not_ going to the Mitchells'--under
+the present circumstances.'
+
+He threw down a piece of toast, got up, and stood with his back to the
+fire.
+
+'How you can expect me to go to the Mitchells' again after their conduct
+is more than I can understand! Have you no pride, Edith?'
+
+Edith looked bewildered.
+
+'Has anything happened? What have the Mitchells done?' she asked.
+
+'What have they done!' Bruce almost shouted. He then went and shut the
+door carefully and came back.
+
+'Done! How do you think I've been treated by these Mitchells--by my
+friend Mitchell--after slaving night and day at their infernal
+theatricals? I _have_ slaved, haven't I, Edith? Worked hard at my part?'
+
+'Indeed you have, dear.'
+
+'Well, you know the last rehearsal? I had got on particularly well. I
+told you so, didn't I? I played the little part with a certain amount of
+spirit, I think. I certainly threw a good deal of feeling and suppressed
+emotion, and also a tinge of humorous irony into my speech to Miss
+Vavasour. Of course, I know quite well it doesn't seem of any very great
+importance, but a lot hinges on that speech, and it isn't everyone who
+could make the very most of it, as I really believe I did. Well, I
+happened to be pointing out to Mitchell, yesterday at the office, how
+much I had done for his play, and how much time and so forth I'd given
+up towards making the thing a success, then, what do you think he turned
+round and said? Oh, he is a brute!'
+
+'I can't think!'
+
+'He said, "Oh, by the way, Ottley, old chap, I was going to tell you
+there's been a change in the scheme. We've altered our plans a little,
+and I really don't think we shall need to trouble you after all. The
+fact is, I've decided to cut out the fancy ball altogether." And then
+people talk of gratitude!'
+
+'Oh, dear, Bruce, that does seem a pity!'
+
+'Seems a pity? Is that all you've got to say! It's an outrage--a slight
+on _me_. It isn't treating me with proper deference. But it isn't that I
+care personally, except for the principle of the thing. For my own sake
+I'm only too pleased--delighted, relieved. It's for _their_ sake I'm so
+sorry. The whole thing is bound to be a failure now--not a chance of
+anything else. The fancy ball in the second act and my little scene with
+Miss Vavasour, especially, was the point of the play. As Mitchell said
+at first, when he was asking me to play the part, it would have been
+_the_ attraction.'
+
+'But why is he taking out the fancy ball?'
+
+'He says they can't get enough people. Says they won't make fools of
+themselves and buy fancy dresses just to make one in a crowd and not be
+noticed--not even recognised. Says the large fancy ball for the coming
+of age of the hero in his ancestral halls would have consisted of one
+mandarin, one Queen of the Night, and a chap in a powdered wig. He
+thinks it wouldn't have been worth it.'
+
+'Well, I am sorry! Still, couldn't you say your part just the same in an
+ordinary dress?'
+
+'What! _"Ah, Miss Vavasour, how charming you look--a true Queen of
+Night!"_ Why, do you remember the lines, Edith? Don't you recollect how
+they refer to our costumes? How could I say them if we weren't in
+fancy dress?'
+
+'Still, if the whole plot hinges on your scene--'
+
+'Well! all I know is, out it goes--and out I go. The second act will be
+an utter frost now. They're making a terrible mistake, mind you. But
+that's Mitchell's business, not mine. It's no kind of deprivation to
+_me_--you know that. What possible gratification can it be for a man
+like me--a man of the world--to paint my face and put on a ridiculous
+dress and make a general ass of myself, just to help Mitchell's rotten
+performance to go off all right!'
+
+'I don't know. I daresay it would have amused you. I'm sorry, anyhow.'
+
+'I'm sorry enough, too--sorry for them. But if you really want to know
+the root of the matter, I shrewdly suspect it's really jealousy! Yes,
+jealousy! It's very odd, when people get keen on this sort of thing, how
+vain they begin to get! Perfectly childish! Yes, he didn't want me to
+make a hit. Old Mitchell didn't want to be cut out! Natural enough, in a
+way, when one comes to think it over; but a bit thick when one remembers
+the hours I've worked for that man--isn't it?'
+
+'What did you say to him, Bruce, when he first told you?'
+
+'Say? Oh, nothing. I took it very coolly--as a man of the world. I
+merely said, "Well, upon my word, Mitchell, this is pretty rough," or
+something of that sort. I didn't show I was hurt or offended in any way.
+I said, of course, it was like his beastly ingratitude--or words to
+that effect.'
+
+'Oh! Was he angry?'
+
+'Yes. He was very angry--furious.'
+
+'Then you've had a quarrel with Mitchell?'
+
+'Not a quarrel, Edith, because I wouldn't quarrel. I merely rubbed in
+his ingratitude, and he didn't like it. He said, "Well, let's hope if
+you're no longer wasting your valuable life on my theatricals you'll now
+be able to arrive at the office in fairly decent time," or something
+nasty like that. Disgusting--wasn't it?'
+
+Edith looked at the clock.
+
+'Too bad,' she said. 'Well, you must tell me all about it--a long
+account of the whole thing--this afternoon. I won't go out. I'll be at
+home when you come--to hear all about it. And now--'
+
+'But that wasn't nearly all,' continued Bruce, without moving; 'you'd
+hardly believe it, but Mitchell actually said that he didn't think I had
+the smallest talent for the stage! He said I made much too much of my
+part--over-acted--exaggerated! When I made a point of keeping my
+rendering of the little scene _particularly_ restrained! The fact is,
+Mitchell's a conceited ass. He knows no more of acting than that chair,
+and he thinks he knows everything.'
+
+'It's fortunate you hadn't ordered your costume.'
+
+'Yes, indeed. As I told him, the whole thing might have cost me a
+tremendous lot--far more than I could afford--put me to tremendous
+expense; and all for nothing! But he said no doubt the costumier would
+take it back. Take it back, indeed! And that if he wouldn't I could send
+the costume to him--Mitchell--_and_ the bill--it would be sure to come
+in useful some time or other--the costume, I mean. As though I'd dream
+of letting him pay for it! I told him at once there could be no question
+of such a thing.'
+
+'Well, there won't, as you haven't ordered it.'
+
+'Now, Edith, let me beg you not to argue. Isn't it bad enough that I'm
+slighted by my so-called friends, and treated with the basest
+ingratitude, without being argued with and nagged at in my own home?'
+
+'I didn't know I was arguing. I beg your pardon. You mustn't worry about
+this, dear. After all, I suppose if they found at the rehearsals that
+they didn't really _need_ a mandarin--I mean, that the fancy-ball scene
+wasn't necessary--perhaps from their point of view they were right to
+cut it out. Don't have a lasting feud with Mitchell--isn't he rather an
+important friend for you--at the office?'
+
+'Edith, Mitchell shall never set foot under my roof--never darken these
+doors again!'
+
+'I wonder why, when people are angry, they talk about their roofs and
+doors? If you were pleased with Mitchell again, you wouldn't _ask_ him
+to set foot under your roof--nor to darken the door. You'd ask him to
+come and see us. Anyhow, he won't feel it so very much--because he'll
+not notice it. He's never been here yet.'
+
+'I know; but Mrs Mitchell was going to call. You will be out to her now,
+remember.'
+
+'I can safely promise, I think, never to receive her, Bruce.'
+
+'Good heavens!' cried Bruce, looking at the clock. 'Do you know what the
+time is? I told you so! I knew it! You've made me late at the office!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+Mitchell Behaves Decently
+
+
+For the last few days Bruce had been greatly depressed, his temper more
+variable than ever, and he had managed to collect a quite extraordinary
+number of entirely new imaginary illnesses. He was very capricious about
+them and never carried one completely through, but abandoned it almost
+as soon as he had proved to Edith that he really had the symptoms. Until
+she was convinced he never gave it up; but the moment she appeared
+suitably anxious about one disease he adopted another. She had no doubt
+that he would continue to ring the changes on varieties of ill-health
+until he had to some extent recovered from the black ingratitude, as he
+considered it, of Mitchell, in (what he called) hounding him out of the
+amateur theatricals, and not letting him play the part of one line at
+which he had slaved night and day.
+
+One evening he came home in quite a different mood, bright and cheerful.
+He played with Archie, and looked in the glass a good deal; both of
+which signs Edith recognised as hopeful.
+
+'How is your temperature tonight, do you think?' she asked tentatively.
+
+'Oh, I don't know. I can't worry about that. A rather gratifying thing
+has happened today, in fact, very gratifying.' He smiled.
+
+'Really? You must tell me about it.'
+
+'However badly a chap behaves--still, when he's really sorry--I mean to
+say when he climbs down and begs your pardon, positively crawls at your
+feet, you can't hold out, Edith!'
+
+'Of course not. Then did Mitchell--'
+
+'And when you have known a fellow a good many years, and he has always
+been fairly decent to you except in the one instance--and when he is in
+a real difficulty--Oh, hang it! One is glad to do what one can.'
+
+'Do I gather that there has been a touching scene between you and
+Mitchell at the office?'
+
+He glanced at her suspiciously. 'May I ask if you are laughing?'
+
+'Oh, no, no! I was smiling with pleasure, hoping you had made it up.'
+
+'Well, yes, it may be weak of me, but I couldn't see the poor fellow's
+scheme absolutely ruined without lending a helping hand. I have got my
+share of proper pride, as you know, Edith, but, after all, one has
+a heart.'
+
+'What did he do?'
+
+'Do!' exclaimed Bruce triumphantly. 'Do! Only apologised--only begged
+me to act with them again--only said that the piece was nothing without
+me, that's all! So I forgave him, and he was jolly grateful, I can
+tell you.'
+
+'Fancy! Is it the same part?'
+
+'Of course not. Didn't I tell you that the fancy ball in the second act
+has been cut out, so of course they don't want a mandarin. No; but Frank
+Luscombe has given up his part--chucked it, and they have asked me
+to take it.'
+
+'Is it as long as the other one?'
+
+'Longer! I appear twice. Mind you, in a way it's not such an important
+part as the other would have been; but the play wouldn't hold together
+without it, and, as Mitchell said, Frank Luscombe is such a conceited
+chap he thought himself too grand to play a footman. He didn't have the
+proper artistic feeling for the whole effect; it appears that he was
+grumbling all the time and at last gave it up. Then it occurred to
+Mitchell that perhaps I would help him out, and I said I would. It is a
+bit of a triumph, isn't it, Edith?'
+
+'A great triumph. Then you will be going back to the rehearsals again?'
+
+'Of course I shall; they begin tomorrow. Mitchell thinks that I shall
+make the hit of the evening. Some of these comparatively unimportant
+parts, when they are really well played, are more effective than the
+chief characters. Mitchell says he saw before, by the rehearsals, what a
+tremendous lot of talent I had. But it isn't merely talent, as he said;
+what they all noticed was my Personal Magnetism--and I expect that's it.
+Fancy a man like Mitchell coming cringing to me, after all that has
+passed between us! Mind you, it's a distinct score, Edith!'
+
+'It is, indeed. If you have not got your part with you, you won't want
+to work at it tonight. I wonder, as you seem better, whether you would
+feel up to listening while I tell you something about the accounts?'
+
+'There you are! How like a woman! The very moment I am a bit cheered up
+and hopeful and feeling a little stronger, you begin worrying me again.'
+
+'Dear Bruce, I wasn't going to worry you. I don't want you to do
+anything--anything at all but listen, and it really will take hardly any
+time at all. You remember you said you weren't strong enough to go
+through them, and suggested I should show them to your mother? Well, I
+went today, and I only want to tell you what happened.'
+
+'Awfully good of you. What did she say?'
+
+'She didn't say much, and she thought she could arrange it, but not
+without speaking to your father.'
+
+'Oh, I say, really? Well, that's all right then. The girl who plays Miss
+Vavasour is quite as good as any professional actress, you know; in
+fact, she would have made a fortune on the stage. She's a Miss
+Flummerfelt. Her father was German by birth. If she weren't a little bit
+inclined to be fat, she would be wonderfully handsome. I shall have a
+little scene with her in the third act, at least, not really a scene
+exactly, but I have to announce her. I open the door and say, "Miss
+Vavasour!" and then she rushes up to Lady Jenkins, who is sitting on the
+sofa, and tells her the bracelet has been found, and I shut the door.
+But there's a great deal, you know, in the tone in which I announce her.
+I have to do it in an apparently supercilious but really admiring tone,
+to show that all the servants think Miss Vavasour had taken the
+bracelet, but that _I_ am certain it isn't true. Frank Luscombe, it
+seems, used to say the words without any expression at all, just "Miss
+Vavasour!" like that, in an unmeaning sort of way.'
+
+'I see. Your father was at home at the time, so your mother most kindly
+said she would go in to him at once, and try to get it settled, just to
+spare you the suspense of waiting for a letter about it. Isn't it sweet
+and considerate of her?'
+
+'Awfully. In the second act, Lady Jenkins says to me, "Parker, has an
+emerald snake bracelet with a ruby head been found in any of the rooms?"
+and I have to say, "I will inquire, my lady." And then I move about the
+room, putting things in order. She says, "That will do, Parker; you
+can go."'
+
+'You seem to make yourself rather a nuisance, then; but do listen,
+Bruce. I waited, feeling most frightfully uncomfortable, and I am afraid
+there was a fearful row--I felt so sorry for your mother, but you know
+the way she has of going straight to the point. She really wasn't long,
+though it _seemed_ long. She came back and said--'
+
+'Of course there's one thing Mitchell asked me to do, but I was obliged
+to refuse. I can't shave off my moustache.'
+
+'Heavens! You aren't going to play the part of a powdered footman with a
+moustache?'
+
+'Yes, I shall; Mitchell doesn't know it yet, but I mean to. I can carry
+it off. I can carry off anything.'
+
+'Well, your mother came back and said that your father had given an
+ultimatum.'
+
+'Is that all he's given?'
+
+'He will put the thing straight on one condition--it seems it is quite
+an easy condition; he's going to write and tell it you. Your mother says
+you must agree at once, not argue, and then everything will be
+all right.'
+
+'Oh, I am glad. It's all through you, Edith. Thanks, awfully. It's
+really very good of you. You should have seen how pleased Mitchell was
+when I said I'd do this for him. Simply delighted. Oh, and Mrs Mitchell
+is going to call on you. I'll find out which day.'
+
+'I suppose I am to be at home to her now? You told me before not to
+receive her, you know.'
+
+'Well, no; if you could manage it without being rude, I would rather she
+only left a card. The Mansions look all right from outside, and they are
+in a decent neighbourhood and all that, but the flat is so _very_ small.
+I hardly like her to see it.'
+
+'Really, Bruce, you are absurd. Does Mitchell suppose that you live in a
+palace?'
+
+'Not a _palace_, exactly; but I expect I have given him an impression
+that it is--well--all right.'
+
+'Well, so it is. If you think the flat unworthy to be seen by Mrs
+Mitchell, why be on visiting terms with her at all? I don't want to be.'
+
+'But, Edith, you can't refuse the advances of a woman like that, the
+wife of such a friend of mine as Mitchell. He's a most valuable
+friend--a splendid fellow--a thoroughly good sort. You've no idea how
+upset he was about our little quarrel the other day. He said he couldn't
+sleep at night thinking about it; and his wife, too, was fretting
+dreadfully, making herself quite ill. But now, of course, it is
+all right.'
+
+'I am not so sure that it is all right; perhaps you will quarrel again
+on the moustache question.'
+
+'Oh, no, we shan't! There can't be any more choppings and changings.
+After telling the whole company that we buried the hatchet and that I am
+going to take Luscombe's part, he wouldn't care to disappoint them all
+again. They are very keen, too, on pleasing Miss Flummerfelt, and it
+seems Mitchell thought she would be particularly glad I was going to act
+with her instead of Luscombe, because, as I say, Luscombe put so little
+meaning into the words. It never would have got over the footlights. Old
+Mitchell will be too pleased to get me back to worry about a trifle
+like that.'
+
+'Well, that's all right. But do you mind writing to your mother tonight,
+just a line to thank her for being so kind? It was awfully nice of her,
+you know--she stuck up for you like anything, and put all the little
+extravagances on to your ill-health; and, you see, she has spared you
+having a scene with your father--he is just going to write you a
+nice note.'
+
+'Yes, I understand, you told me before; but I have got to write a letter
+tonight, a rather important one. I'll write to the mater tomorrow.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce!'
+
+'My dear girl, business first, pleasure after. To write to one's mother
+is a pleasure. I wonder what the blessed ultimatum is. Look here, Edith,
+don't take any engagements for the next two or three weeks, will you? I
+shall want you every evening for rehearsing. I mean to make a good piece
+of work of this. I think I shall rather surprise Miss Flummerfelt and
+Mitchell.' 'Very well; but still I think you might write to your mother.
+Who is the very important business letter to?'
+
+'Why, it's to Clarkson.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Jane's Sister
+
+
+'I have made up my mind, Charles, never to go and see Hyacinth again!'
+
+'Indeed! What's the matter? What has happened?' Sir Charles looked up
+rather wearily from his book and took off his gold-rimmed spectacles.
+
+'Why should I wear myself out giving advice that is never followed?'
+indignantly said the lady.
+
+'Why, indeed?'
+
+Lady Cannon looked more than ever like a part of her own furniture,
+being tightly upholstered in velvet and buttons, with a touch of gold
+round the neck. She was distinctly put out. Her husband glanced at her
+and then at the door, as she poured out tea with an ominous air.
+
+'You know how gratified I was, how thankful to see no more of that
+odious Miss Yeo. I always disapproved of her. I felt she had a bad
+influence--at any rate not a good one--in the household. I was simply
+delighted to hear that Hyacinth never saw her now. Well, today I called
+in to give Hyacinth a suggestion about her under-housemaid--I knew she
+wanted a new one; and Jane has a sister out of a situation who, I felt
+certain, would be the very person for her; when, who do I find sitting
+chatting with Hyacinth, and taking the lead in the conversation in the
+same odious way she always did, but Miss Yeo!'
+
+'Oh, she has come back, has she? Well, I'm glad she's all right. Poor
+old Anne! How is she looking?'
+
+'Looking!' almost screamed Lady Cannon. 'As if it mattered how she
+looked! What did she ever look like? She looked the same as ever.
+Although it's a lovely day, she had on a mackintosh and a golf-cap and
+dogskin riding-gloves. She was dressed for a country walk in the rain,
+but hardly suitable for a visit to Hyacinth. How ever, that is not the
+point. The point is her extraordinary impertinence and disrespect to
+_me_. I naturally took scarcely any notice of her presence beyond a
+slight bow. I made no reference whatever to her sudden disappearance,
+which, though exceedingly ill-bred and abrupt, I personally happened to
+be very glad of. I merely said what I had come to say to Hyacinth: that
+Jane's sister was looking for a situation, and that Hyacinth's was the
+very one to suit her. Instead of allowing Hyacinth to speak, what does
+Miss Yeo do but most impertinently snap me up by saying--what do you
+suppose she asked me, Charles?'
+
+'How on earth could I possibly guess?'
+
+'She asked me, in a hectoring tone, mind, what I knew about Jane's
+sister! Daring to ask _me a thing like that_!'
+
+'What did you say?'
+
+'I answered, in a very proper and dignified way, of course, that I
+personally knew nothing whatever about her, but that I was always glad
+to get a good place for a relative of any domestic of mine; so Miss Yeo
+answered that she thought her sister--I mean Jane--having been with me
+five years was a circumstance not in her favour at all, quite the
+contrary, and she would strongly advise Hyacinth not to take Jane's
+sister on so flimsy recommendation. I was thunderstruck. But this is not
+all. Before I left Miss Yeo dared to invite me to go to see her and her
+friends, and even went so far as to say she could get me an invitation
+to a musical party they are giving in a boarding-house in Bloomsbury!
+She says they have charming musical evenings every Sunday, and sometimes
+play dumb crambo! It was really almost pathetic. To ask _me_ to play
+dumb crambo! The woman can have no sense of humour!'
+
+'I'm not so sure of that,' murmured Sir Charles.
+
+'I merely replied that I had a great deal to do, and could make no
+engagements at present. I did not like to hurt her feelings by pointing
+out the glaring incongruity of her suggestion, but really I was
+astonished; and when I said this about the engagements, she answered,
+"Oh well, never mind; no doubt we shall often meet here," almost as if
+she guessed my strong aversion to seeing her at Hyacinth's house. Then
+she went away; and I took the opportunity to advise Hyacinth against
+encouraging her. Hyacinth seemed extremely vexed and did not take my
+suggestion at all well. So now, if I know I am to run the risk of
+meeting that person there and, as I say, am to give advice to no
+purpose, I prefer to keep away altogether.'
+
+'Did you ask Hyacinth how it was Miss Yeo turned up again?'
+
+'I did; and she answered that Anne could not live without her I Did you
+ever hear of anything so ridiculous in your life?'
+
+'One can understand it,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'I can't. What use can she possibly be to Hyacinth?'
+
+'It isn't only a question of use, I suppose. They've been great friends
+for years, but as far as that goes, there's not the slightest doubt Anne
+could be of great use if she chose. Hyacinth isn't practical, and has
+never learnt to be, and Anne is.'
+
+'Then you approve?' said Lady Cannon in a low voice of anger; 'you
+defend my being insulted, contradicted, and--and--asked to play dumb
+crambo by such a person as Miss Yeo!'
+
+'Oh, no, my dear; of course I don't. But I daresay she didn't mean to be
+rude; she was always rather eccentric, and she can be very tactful when
+she likes. She never was in the slightest degree in the way when she was
+Hyacinth's companion and actually lived with her, so I don't see how she
+possibly can be now by going to see her occasionally. Really, I rather
+like Anne Yeo.'
+
+'Oh, you do,' said his wife furiously; 'then I regret to say we differ
+very radically. It is _most_ unnecessary that you should like her
+at all.'
+
+'No doubt it is unnecessary, but how can it possibly hurt you? When I
+say I like her, I mean that I have a friendly sort of feeling for her. I
+think she's a very good sort, that's all.'
+
+'Then perhaps if _you_ were Cecil Reeve you would like her to live in
+the house altogether?'
+
+'Oh, I don't go so far as that,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'What I _can't_ get over,' continued Lady Cannon, who could never
+forgive the slightest opposition, and was intensely annoyed and
+surprised at her husband for once being of a different opinion, 'what I
+_can't_ forgive is her astonishing interference on the question of
+Jane's sister! When I know that it is the very situation to suit the
+girl! Now, in future, whatever difficulty Hyacinth may be in, I shall
+never come forward again with _my_ help and experience. I wash my hands
+of it. It was bad enough before; Hyacinth forgot every single thing I
+told her, but she never contradicted me and seemed grateful for my
+advice. But now--now that she has that creature to make her believe that
+my opinions are not worth considering, of course it is all over. I am
+sorry for Hyacinth, very sorry. By this, by her own folly, she loses a
+chance that very few young married women have--a chance of getting an
+under-housemaid, whose sister has been with me for five years! I have no
+doubt whatever in my own mind that it would have been arranged today,
+and that I should have brought the good news back to Jane, if it hadn't
+been for that unpleasant and unnecessary Miss Yeo. Poor thing! It is
+very hard on her.'
+
+'What extraordinary creatures women are!' said Sir Charles.
+'May I ask whom you are pitying now, Anne or Hyacinth?'
+
+'Neither,' said Lady Cannon, with dignity as she left the room.
+'I was pitying Jane's sister.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+The Drive
+
+
+From time to time invitations had been received from the Selseys, all of
+which Cecil had asked Hyacinth to refuse on various pretexts. As she was
+convinced that he intended never to see Lady Selsey again if he could
+possibly help it, she made no objection, and did not even remark to him
+that it would look odd.
+
+One afternoon Cecil was in St James's Street when he remembered that
+there was an exhibition at Carfax's. He strolled in, and was for the
+moment quite taken by surprise at the evident gaiety of the crowd. It
+seemed so incongruous to hear laughter at a private view, where it is
+now usual to behave with the embarrassed and respectful gloom
+appropriate to a visit of condolence (with the corpse in the next room).
+
+Then he remembered that it was an exhibition of Max Beerbohm's
+caricatures, and that people's spirits were naturally raised at the
+sight of the cruel distortions, ridiculous situations, and fantastic
+misrepresentations of their friends and acquaintances on the walls.
+
+Cecil was smiling to himself at a charming picture of the Archbishop of
+Canterbury, when someone touched him on the shoulder.
+
+He turned round. It was Lord Selsey with his wife. He looked suave and
+debonair as ever, with his touch of attenuated Georgian dandyism. She
+had not changed, nor had her long brown eyes lost their sly and
+fascinating twinkle. Evidently Lord Selsey had not been able--if indeed
+he had tried--to persuade her to take much trouble about her appearance,
+but he had somehow succeeded in making her carelessness seem
+picturesque. The long, rather vague cloak that she wore might pass--at
+any rate, in a picture-gallery--as artistic, and the flat hat with its
+long brown feather suggested a Rembrandt, and must have been chosen for
+her against her will, no doubt by her husband. She really looked
+particularly plain this afternoon, but at the first glance Cecil admired
+her as much as ever.
+
+'It's most fortunate we've met you. I have to go on somewhere, and you
+must drive Eugenia home. You must have a lot to talk about,' Lord
+Selsey said.
+
+Cecil began to make an excuse.
+
+'Oh, you can't refuse! Are you afraid of me? Don't you want to have a
+talk with your aunt?' said Eugenia.
+
+He had no choice, and ten minutes later found himself driving in a
+hansom with his old love.
+
+'Well, tell me, Cecil, aren't you happy? Weren't we quite right?'
+
+'Of course,' said he.
+
+'What an absurd boy you are. It's nice to see you again. I feel just
+like a mother to you. When am I going to see Hyacinth? Why won't you let
+me be friends with her? I fell in love with her at first sight. I
+suppose she worships you, eh? And you take it as a matter of course, and
+give yourself airs. Oh, I know you! I like Ted very much. He's a
+wonderful man. He knows everything. He's--what's the word--volatile?
+No, versatile. He's a walking encyclopaedia of knowledge. He can write
+Persian poetry as soon as look at you, and everything he hasn't learnt
+he knows by instinct. He has the disposition of an angel and the voice
+of a gazelle. No, wait a minute; do I mean gazelles? Gazelles don't
+sing, do they? I must mean nightingales. He sings and plays really
+beautifully. Why didn't you tell me what a rare creature your uncle is?
+He has the artistic temperament, as they call it--without any of the
+nasty temper and horrid unpunctuality that goes with it. I really do
+admire Ted, Cecil. I think he's perfect.'
+
+'That is most satisfactory,' said Cecil.
+
+She burst out laughing.
+
+'Oh, Cecil, you haven't changed a bit! But marvellous and angelic as Ted
+is, it's a sort of relief in a way to meet an ordinary man. _You_ don't
+know all about everything, do you? If I asked you the most difficult
+question about art or science or history or metaphysics, or even dress,
+you wouldn't be able to answer it, would you? Do you always keep your
+temper? Is your judgement thoroughly sound? Can you talk modern Greek,
+and Arabian? I think not. You're full of faults, and delightfully
+ignorant and commonplace. And it's jolly to see you again.'
+
+'Eugenia, you're the same as ever. Don't go home yet. Let's go for a
+drive.'
+
+'But oughtn't you to go back to your wife? I daresay she's counting the
+minutes. Nothing could ever grow prosaic to her, not even being
+married to you.'
+
+'She's gone out somewhere, with Anne Yeo, I think. Do, Eugenia; I shall
+never ask you again. Just for once, like old times. I couldn't stand the
+idea of going to see you at Selsey House; it depressed and irritated me.
+This is different.'
+
+'All right,' said Eugenia. 'Then make the most of it. I shan't do it
+again.'
+
+'Where shall we drive?'
+
+'I've always wondered what happened at the very end of the Cromwell
+Road. Let's drive there, and then you can leave me at home. That will be
+quite a long way. It's rather a mad idea, Cecil, but it's fun. Isn't it
+just like Ted to ask you to take me home? You see what a darling, clever
+creature he is. He guessed--he knew we should be a little excited at
+meeting again. He wanted to get it over by leaving us quite free
+to talk.'
+
+'I must say I shouldn't have done that in his place,' said Cecil.
+
+'Oh, you! You might have had some cause of jealousy. He never could. But
+don't think I shall allow any more freaks like this. In a way I'm rather
+pleased you haven't forgotten me, Cecil.'
+
+'Who could ever forget you? Who could ever get tired of you?'
+
+'You could; and you would have by now, if I had been foolish enough to
+marry you.'
+
+She seemed to Cecil, as ever, a delightful medley of impulses, whims,
+and fancies. For him there was always some magic about her; in her pale
+radiance he still found the old dazzling, unaccountable charm....
+
+
+'Hyacinth, do let us score off Lady Cannon, and get the housemaid
+without her help.'
+
+'Why, I have, Anne, I advertised all by myself. Several came to see me
+yesterday.'
+
+'Well, what did you do about it?'
+
+'Nothing particular. Oh yes; I did. I wrote down the address of one or
+two. Emma Sinfield, Maude Frick, Annie Crutcher, and Mary Garstin. Which
+shall I have, Anne--which name do you like best?'
+
+'Emma Sinfield, I think, or if she doesn't do, I rather fancy Garstin.
+Where does Emma live?'
+
+'In the Cromwell Road. We ought to go and ask for her character today.'
+
+'You go, then, and I'll go with you. You won't know what to ask. I'll do
+it for you.'
+
+'All right. We may as well drive there as anywhere.'
+
+
+Anne declared the character quite satisfactory, for Emma Sinfield's late
+employer, although displaying the most acute conscientiousness, could
+find no fault with her except a vaulting ambition and wild desire to
+better herself, which is not unknown in other walks of life, and they
+were driving away in the motor when they came face to face with Cecil
+and Eugenia in a hansom. He was talking with so much animation that he
+did not see them. She was looking straight before her.
+
+Hyacinth turned pale as death and seized Anne's hand. Anne said nothing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+The Quarrel
+
+
+'So that's why he wouldn't take me to see her! He's been meeting her in
+secret. My instinct was right, but I didn't think he would do that now.
+Oh, to think he's been deceiving me!'
+
+'But you mustn't be in such a hurry to judge.' protested Anne; 'it may
+be just some accidental thing. Hyacinth, do take my advice. Don't say
+anything about it to him, and see if he mentions it. If he doesn't, then
+you'll have some reason for suspecting him, and we'll see what can
+be done.'
+
+'He won't mention it--I know he won't. What accident could make them
+meet in a hansom in the Cromwell Road? It's too cruel! And I thought she
+was good. I didn't know she'd be so wicked as this. Why, they've only
+been married a few months. He never loved me; I told you so, Anne. He
+ought not to have married me. He only did it out of pique. He never
+cared for anyone but that woman.'
+
+'Is it hopeless to ask you to listen to reason? So far you have no proof
+of anything of the kind. Certainly not that he cares for her now.'
+
+'Didn't I see his face? I don't think he's ever looked like that at me.'
+
+If Anne had had a momentary feeling of triumph, of that resignation to
+the troubles of other people that we are all apt to feel when the
+trouble is caused by one of whom we are jealous, the unworthy sentiment
+could not last at the sight of her friend's grief.
+
+'This is serious, Hyacinth. And everything depends on your being clever
+now. I don't believe that she can possibly mean any harm. She never did.
+Why on earth should she now? And if you remember, she didn't look a bit
+interested. There must be some simple explanation.'
+
+'And if there isn't?'
+
+'Then a strong line must be taken. He must be got away from her.'
+
+"To think of having to say that! And he says he loves me! On our
+honeymoon I began to believe it. Since we have been home I told you I
+had vague fears, but nothing like this. It's an outrage."
+
+"It isn't necessarily an outrage for your husband to drive his aunt in a
+hansom."
+
+"Don't make fun of me, Anne, when you know she was formerly--"
+
+"But she wasn't, my dear. That's just the point. I'm perfectly sure, I
+_really_ believe, that she never regarded him in that way at all. She
+looks on him as a boy, and quite an ordinary boy."
+
+"Ah, but he isn't ordinary!"
+
+"What ever you do, Hyacinth, don't meet him by making a scene. At
+present he associates you with nothing but gentleness, affection, and
+pleasure. That is your power over him. It's a power that grows. Don't
+let him have any painful recollections of you."
+
+"But the other woman, according to you, never gave him pleasure and
+gentleness and all that--yet you see he turns to her."
+
+"That's a different thing. She didn't love him."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"And if I find he doesn't mention the meeting, deceives me about it,
+don't you even advise me to charge him with it then?"
+
+"It is what I should advise, if I wanted you to have a frightful
+quarrel--perhaps a complete rupture. If you found out he had deceived
+you, what would you really do?"
+
+Hyacinth stood up.
+
+"I should--no, I couldn't live without him!"
+
+She broke down.
+
+"I give you two minutes by the clock to cry," said Anne dryly, "not a
+second more. If you spoil your eyes and give yourself a frightful
+headache, what thanks do you suppose you'll get?"
+
+Hyacinth dried her eyes.
+
+"Nothing he says, nothing he tells me, even if he's perfectly open about
+the drive this afternoon, will ever convince me that he's not in love
+with her, and that's the awful thing."
+
+"Even if that were true, it's not incurable. You're his wife. A thousand
+times prettier--and twenty years younger! The longer he lives with you
+the more fond he'll grow of you. You are his life--and a very charming
+life--not exactly a dull duty. She is merely--at the worst--a whim."
+
+'Horrid creature! I believe she's a witch,' Hyacinth cried.
+
+'Don't let us talk it over any more. Just as if your own instinct won't
+tell you what to do far better than I ever could! Besides, you
+understand men; you know how to deal with them by nature--I never could.
+I see through them too well. I merely wanted to warn you--being myself a
+cool looker-on--to be prudent, not to say or do anything irrevocable. If
+you find you can't help making a scene, well, make one. It can't do much
+harm. It's only that making oneself unpleasant is apt to destroy one's
+influence. Naturally, people won't stand being bullied and interfered
+with if they can help it. It isn't human nature.'
+
+'No; and it isn't human nature to share the person one loves with anyone
+else. That I could never do. I shall show him that.'
+
+'The question doesn't arise. I feel certain you're making a mountain out
+of a mole-hill, dear. Well--cheer up!'
+
+Anne took her departure.
+
+
+As Cecil came in, looking, Hyacinth thought, particularly and
+irritatingly handsome, she felt a fresh attack of acute jealousy. And
+yet, in spite of her anger, her first sensation was a sort of
+relenting--a wish to let him off, not to entrap him into deceiving her
+by pretending not to know, not to act a part, but to throw herself into
+his arms, violently abusing Eugenia, forgiving him, and imploring him
+vaguely to take her away.
+
+She did not, however, give way to this wild impulse, but behaved
+precisely as usual; and he, also, showed no difference. He told her
+about the pictures, and said she must come and see them with him, but he
+said nothing whatever of having seen Lady Selsey. He was deceiving her,
+then! How heartless, treacherous, faithless--and horribly handsome and
+attractive he was! She was wondering how much longer she could keep her
+anger to herself, when by the last post she received a note. It was from
+the Selseys, asking her and Cecil to dine with them on an evening
+near at hand.
+
+Her hand trembled as she passed the letter to Cecil.
+
+'Am I to refuse?' she asked.
+
+He answered carelessly--
+
+'Oh, no! I suppose we may as well accept.'
+
+The words 'Have you seen her yet?' were on her lips, but she dared not
+say them. She was afraid he would tell her the truth.
+
+'Have you any objection?' he asked.
+
+She didn't answer, but walked to the door and then turned round and
+said--
+
+'None whatever--to _your_ going. You can go where you please, and do as
+you like. But I shall certainly not go with you!'
+
+'Hyacinth!'
+
+'You've been deceiving me, Cecil. Don't speak--please don't--because you
+would lie to me, and I couldn't bear it. I saw you driving with that
+woman today. I quite understand that you're beginning to think it would
+be better I should go to her house. No doubt you arranged it with her.
+But I'm not going to make it so convenient for you as all that!'
+
+'My dear child, stop, listen!--let me explain. We met accidentally at
+the picture-gallery, and her husband himself asked me to drive her home.
+I couldn't get out of it.'
+
+'Oh! He asked you to drive her home! You went a long way round, Cecil.
+The Cromwell Road is scarcely on the way to Regent's Park from St
+James's Street. Anyhow, you need not have done it. I have felt for some
+time that you don't really care for me, and I'm not going to play the
+part of the deceived and ridiculous wife, nor to live an existence of
+continual wrangling. I'm disappointed, and I must accept the
+disappointment.'
+
+'My dearest girl, what do you mean?'
+
+'Let us separate!' she answered. 'I will go abroad somewhere with Anne,
+and you can stay here and go on with your intrigue. I doubt if it will
+make you very happy in the end--it is too base, under the circumstances.
+At any rate, you're perfectly free.'
+
+'You are absolutely wrong, Hyacinth. Terribly wrong--utterly mistaken! I
+swear to you that today is the first time I've seen her since she
+married. She wants to know you better--to be your friend. That is why
+she asked us again. She's devoted to her husband. It was a mere chance,
+our drive today--there's nothing in it. But still, though I'm absolutely
+innocent, if you _wish_ to leave me, I shall not stand in your way. You
+want to go abroad with Anne Yeo, do you? Upon my word, I believe you
+prefer her to me!'
+
+'You are grotesque, Cecil. But, at least, I can believe what she says. I
+know she would not be treacherous to me.'
+
+'I suppose it was she who put this pretty fancy in your head--this
+nonsense about my imaginary flirtation with--Lady Selsey?'
+
+'Was it Anne who made you drive with Lady Selsey, and not tell me about
+it? No, I can't believe you--I wish I could. This is all I've seen, so
+it's all you acknowledge. For a long time I've known that it was she who
+was between us. You have always cared for her. I suppose you always
+will. Well, I am not going to fight with her.'
+
+She threw the note on the table.
+
+'You can answer it! Say you'll go, but that I am going away. I shall
+probably go tomorrow.'
+
+The door closed behind her. Cecil was left alone.
+
+'By Jove!' he said to himself; and then more slowly, 'By--Jove!'
+
+He lighted a cigarette and immediately threw it away. He rang the bell,
+and when the servant came, said he didn't want anything. He went into
+the dining-room, poured out some brandy-and-soda. He looked at it and
+left it untouched. Then, suddenly, he went upstairs. There was an
+expression on his face of mingled anxiety, slight amusement, and
+surprise. He went to her room. The door was locked.
+
+'Hyacinth,' he said in a low voice, 'Hyacinth, darling, do open the
+door.... I want to speak to you. Do answer. You are quite mistaken, you
+know.... You know I don't care for anyone but you, dear. It's too
+absurd. Open the door!'
+
+'Please go away, Cecil.'
+
+'But, I say, I _insist_ on your opening the door! I _will_ come in;
+you're treating me shamefully, and I won't stand it. Do you hear?'
+
+She came close to the door and said in a low, distinct voice--
+
+'I don't wish to see you, and you must please leave me alone. I'm busy.'
+
+'Busy! Good Lord! What are you doing?'
+
+'I'm packing,' she answered.
+
+He waited a second, and then went downstairs again and sat down in the
+arm-chair.
+
+'By Jove!' he exclaimed again. 'By--Jove!'
+
+His thoughts were more eloquent. But a baffled Englishman is rarely very
+articulate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+Anne and Eugenia
+
+
+'If you please, my lady, there's someone called to see you.'
+
+Eugenia looked up in surprise. She was in the library, occupied in
+cataloguing Lord Selsey's books.
+
+'It's a--well--it's not exactly a young person, my lady. She says she's
+sure you will see her. The name is Miss Yeo.'
+
+'Miss Yeo?' Eugenia looked puzzled. 'Show her in at once.'
+
+Anne came in, coolly.
+
+'I'm afraid you hardly remember me, Lady Selsey,' she said. 'We met last
+summer. I was Miss Verney's companion.'
+
+Eugenia held out her hand cordially.
+
+'Of course, I remember you very well. Why, it was here we met! At that
+musical party! Do sit down, Miss Yeo. Won't you take off your
+mackintosh?'
+
+'No, thanks. I must apologise for intruding. The fact is I've come about
+something important. It's about Mrs Reeve.'
+
+'Mrs Reeve?' Eugenia leant eagerly forward. 'Do, do tell me! Anything
+about her interests me so much.'
+
+'You'll think me very impertinent, Lady Selsey. But I can't help it.
+I'll come straight to the point.'
+
+'Do, please.'
+
+'Mrs Reeve has had a terrible quarrel with her husband. She would have
+left him this morning, but that I persuaded her to wait. I came to tell
+you because I felt sure you would be sorry. It's about you,
+Lady Selsey.'
+
+'About me!'
+
+'Yes. She saw you driving with her husband, and he didn't mention it.
+She's jealous of you. Of course he explained it, but she doesn't believe
+him. I thought he probably would not say anything about it to you. I
+know, of course, it's a sort of misunderstanding. But I thought perhaps
+you could do something about it to make it all right.'
+
+'I _am_ grieved,' said Eugenia, clasping her hands. 'You know Cecil was
+an old friend of mine, don't you? I met him again after many months, and
+in a foolish impulse we went for a drive. That is all, of course. Miss
+Yeo, I'm sure you're her true friend. This quarrel must be made up. What
+can I do? What do you advise?'
+
+'Even if this particular quarrel is patched up, she would always be
+suspicious and jealous of you. It makes her miserable.'
+
+'Poor darling, how ridiculous! I'm sure I'd be only too pleased never to
+see the silly boy again.'
+
+'I quite understand all that, but, you see, she's very proud. That sort
+of rupture--all being connected as you are--would be noticeable to other
+people, and she's very sensitive--she couldn't stand it.'
+
+Eugenia thought a moment.
+
+'Suppose we went away somewhere for a year? That would give her time to
+forget this nonsense. My husband has been trying to persuade me to go to
+the Ionian Islands with him--yachting. He'll be only too pleased if I
+say I will. I'm a wretched sailor, but if it would do any good--'
+
+'It would be perfect. It would all come right.'
+
+'Then I'll do it. I had asked them to dinner for next week. I haven't
+had an answer yet. I'll telegraph, putting them off, and
+explaining why.'
+
+'That would be splendid,' said Anne.
+
+'Then it's settled,' answered Eugenia briefly.
+
+Anne got up.
+
+'Of course it must be understood that you know nothing about it--I mean
+about the quarrel,' she said.
+
+'Of course not. Not a soul, not my husband, nor Cecil, nor his wife
+shall ever know a word about your visit, Miss Yeo.'
+
+'That is very kind of you, Lady Selsey. I--well, you know I'm devoted to
+Hyacinth. At first I was almost selfishly glad about this. I could have
+got her back. We could have gone away together. But I can't see her
+miserable. She has such a mania for Cecil Reeve! Isn't it
+extraordinary?'
+
+'Most extraordinary,' replied Eugenia emphatically.
+
+'And since she's got him, she may as well be happy with him,' Anne
+added.
+
+'Of course. And she will. This misunderstanding won't do any harm in the
+long run,' said Eugenia. 'If he had any real fear of losing her, it
+would do him a great deal of good. He's devoted to her really, more than
+either of them knows.'
+
+'I daresay,' said Anne dryly. 'It's sure to be fixed up soon, and then
+I'm going away too.'
+
+'You are! Why, Miss Yeo?'
+
+'Oh, I don't know. I feel I'm not in the picture. I hate the sight of
+turtle-doves. If I've been able to do her a good turn in this little
+trouble, it will be a great consolation where I'm going.'
+
+'I'm afraid you're not happy, Miss Yeo?' said Eugenia impulsively.
+
+'I don't know that I am, particularly. But does it matter? We can't all
+be happy.'
+
+'I'm sorry. I want everyone to be happy.'
+
+'I suppose it's always a mistake to make an idol of anyone,' said Anne.
+'I'm afraid Hyacinth thinks that is what her husband has done
+about you.'
+
+'_That_ would indeed be inexcusable!'
+
+'She thought that the hopelessness of it had made him idealise you, and
+even that worried her; but when she saw you together, and it
+seemed--well, concrete treachery--she was furious.'
+
+'It will bring them nearer than they have ever been before,' assured
+Eugenia.
+
+'Good-bye,' said Anne. 'I'll write to you--once--and tell you what has
+happened.'
+
+'Do, and be quick; I shall be busy buying yachting dresses. By the way,
+you might take the telegram.'
+
+Anne waited while she wrote--
+
+'Frightfully sorry, dinner next week unavoidably postponed as
+unexpectedly leaving town for season. Writing. Eugenia Selsey.'
+
+'I will write to her when I've arranged it with my husband.'
+
+Anne took the telegram.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+'That Woman'
+
+
+By the end of their drive Eugenia had quite come to the conclusion that
+Cecil was as foolish as ever, and that she would not be alone with him
+again. At first it had amused her to see him once more, but when she saw
+the infatuation revive, she was bored and sorry--and particularly sorry
+she had given him the opportunity of expressing it. She had told him,
+definitely, that she would not see him again except with Hyacinth. He
+had declared it was merely the excitement of having met her, and
+implored forgiveness, undertaking in future to regard her as a
+friend merely.
+
+This reconciliation--for they had had quite a quarrel in the cab coming
+back--and the solemn compact and promise on Cecil's part to ignore the
+old terms, had led to the invitation that Hyacinth regarded as an insult
+added to injury.
+
+Cecil's conscience, then, as he sat by the fire that night pricked him
+not at all, for had he not made the best of resolutions? Indeed,
+privately, he rather plumed himself on his honourable conduct,
+forgetting perhaps that it was inspired more by Eugenia's attitude than
+by his own inclination.
+
+Probably he hardly realised that, had Eugenia used her influence
+differently, there was hardly anything he would not have done. To him
+facts were everything--and he believed he had meant no harm.
+
+He was still, he knew, to a great extent under the charm of his old
+friend. Still, that did not seem to have anything to do with his love
+for Hyacinth. He did not believe her threat of leaving him, but the mere
+picture of such a thing gave him great pain. He thought that if he had
+not been exactly in love with her when they married he was now; and
+could not at all imagine himself living without her. What, then, did he
+really want? He did not formulate it.
+
+_Au fond_, he was more flattered than annoyed at the position Hyacinth
+took up. He was amused, positively impressed, at her spirit. Had she not
+been so excessively pretty, it would have made him more angry and more
+anxious to rebel at the idea of her dictation. Perhaps his happiness
+with Hyacinth had gone almost too smoothly. He had become quite spoilt
+by her exquisite responsiveness, too much accustomed to the delightful
+homage of her being so much in love with him, to her charm in every way.
+He didn't at all fancy the idea of the smallest amount of this tribute
+being diminished. Suppose he offered never to see Eugenia again? After
+all, he had avoided her until today. He could continue to do so. But he
+had just arranged with her that they should all be friends. It would
+seem ridiculous. Besides, he _wanted_ to see her!
+
+Oh! what an infernal nuisance the whole thing was! It was such an
+awkward situation. As the thought developed, gradually, that he really
+would have to choose, there could be no sort of doubt that he would
+choose Hyacinth.... Yes, his fancy for Eugenia was the shadow, a
+will-o'-the-wisp; Hyacinth was the reality--a very lovely and loving
+reality. Hers was the insidious charm that grows rather than dazzles,
+the attraction that increases with time. He could not imagine, however
+long they might be married, her becoming ever a comrade merely. Mentally
+and physically, she held him far more since their marriage than before;
+he had found in her a thousand delightful qualities of which he had
+never dreamed.
+
+Then that mad, capricious creature, Eugenia, meeting him, must make him
+take her for a drive and spoil it all! He began to get rather angry with
+her. Certainly since this row about her, he felt he liked her less. Why
+couldn't she stick to Uncle Ted--as she thought him so marvellous--and
+leave _him_ alone?
+
+With this unjust and inconsistent movement of irritation, he again
+attempted speaking to Hyacinth through the door, assuring her that if
+she would only open it, he would convince her. But as he received no
+answer, he was too proud to say any more, and retired sulkily to his
+own room.
+
+To his great surprise, he fell asleep almost immediately.
+
+
+The next morning he went out without seeing Hyacinth, but left a message
+that he would be in at one, and wished to speak to her. He thought this
+would give her time to recover, or even perhaps to speak to Anne. At
+heart he did not believe Anne would give her any but sensible advice,
+though he now began to feel a little jealous of her influence.
+
+When he came back he found Hyacinth in the boudoir. She looked pale, but
+particularly pretty, with a little air of tragic composure.
+
+'May I ask if you still think seriously of leaving me?' he asked
+sarcastically.
+
+'I haven't settled anything yet.'
+
+'Why is that? Won't Anne go with you?'
+
+She avoided answering, but said, 'I've been thinking things over, Cecil,
+and assuming that what you told me yesterday was true--that you met
+_that woman_ for the first time again yesterday--I will not--go away. We
+will remain outwardly as we have been. But as long as I believe, as I
+do, that you are in love with her, I intend to be merely a friend
+to you.'
+
+'A friend? What utter nonsense! I refuse to consent to anything so
+absurd. I won't stand it!'
+
+'I shall not,' continued Hyacinth, taking no notice, 'interfere with
+your freedom at all. I don't ask you not to see her. You can go there
+when you like. I couldn't bear the idea that I was putting a restraint
+on your liberty, so that even if you offered--which you haven't--to give
+up seeing her at all--I wouldn't accept such a _sacrifice_!'
+
+Cecil laughed impatiently.
+
+'Considering I've avoided her till yesterday--'
+
+'Ah, you admit it! That shows--that proves you care for her.'
+
+'Don't you own yourself you were probably wrong--that you misunderstood
+about the drive?' he asked.
+
+'I assume that I can believe your word--that is why I'm not leaving you.
+Do you accept my terms?'
+
+His eyes flashed; he walked towards her violently, overturning a little
+table.
+
+'No, I don't,' he said, 'and I never shall! It's infernal, unjust,
+ridiculous. You are my wife!'
+
+She seemed not offended at his violence, but she said--
+
+'Think it over till tomorrow. You understand that unless you agree to
+our each going our own way I shall not remain here.'
+
+He came a step nearer. At this moment the door opened and the servant
+announced lunch.
+
+Cecil, without saying another word, went out of the house. The door
+banged loudly.
+
+At the sound Hyacinth burst into tears. 'Oh, why am I so miserable?' she
+sobbed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+Raggett's Sense of Humour
+
+
+'Edith,' said Bruce, 'I'm rather worried about Raggett.'
+
+'Are you? Why?'
+
+'Well, the last time I met him, he came up and asked me if I knew the
+difference between a sardine and a hedgehog. Of course I said no,
+thinking it was some riddle, but he only answered, "Then you _must_ be
+a fool!"'
+
+Edith smiled.
+
+'Is that all?'
+
+'No, it is _not_ all. It will give you a shock, what I'm going to tell
+you now. At the office--at the _office_, mind--I received a letter from
+Raggett, written on a crumpet.'
+
+'On a what?'
+
+'On a crumpet. The letter was gummed on; the thing had a stamp, and was
+properly addressed to me, and it came through the post. The note itself
+was quite rational, but the postscript--what do you suppose the
+postscript said?'
+
+'I can't think.'
+
+'It said, "PS--Please excuse my writing to you on a crumpet, as I
+haven't a muffin!"'
+
+Edith laughed.
+
+'It's all very well to laugh, but it's a very sad thing. The poor chap
+is going off his head. I don't know what to do about it.'
+
+'He isn't really, Bruce. I know what it is. I can explain the whole
+thing. Last time I saw him--he called the day you were rehearsing--he
+said he had given up being a Legitimist, and was going to try, if
+possible, to develop a sense of humour. He thinks for one thing it will
+please _me_. I'm sure he hopes you will tell me the story about the
+crumpet, and that I shall admire him for it.'
+
+'Do you seriously mean that he's trying to be funny on your account?'
+
+'That's the idea.'
+
+'But what have you to do with his career? What is it to you? I mean,
+what is it to him--whether you like people to be funny or serious?'
+
+'Nothing, really.'
+
+'You admit openly, Edith, that you know he has such a liking for you
+that he is becoming a clown in the hope that you will think him witty?'
+
+'That is it. He's afraid he's a bore--too dull. He wants to amuse me.
+That's all.'
+
+'What right has he to wish anything of the kind? Have you not got me, if
+you wish to be amused? If I thought that you were right--but, mind you,
+I don't; all women have their little vanities, and I believe it's a
+delusion of yours about Raggett--I think he's simply been getting a
+little queer in the head lately. However, if I did think it, I should
+consider it an outrage. To write me a letter on a crumpet, as a _joke_!
+Joke, indeed! Men have been called out for less, Edith.'
+
+Bruce thought a little while, then he said--
+
+'I'll take no notice of it this time. But if I have any more nonsense
+from Raggett, I shall ask for an explanation. I shall say to him, "My
+wife tells me that your tone, which I consider greatly wanting in
+deference to me, is meant as homage to her! What do you mean?" I shall
+say to Raggett, just like this, "What the--"'
+
+Edith already regretted her candour. 'No, no; you mustn't bully poor
+Raggett. Perhaps I was wrong. I daresay he wanted to amuse us both.'
+
+'That is more likely,' said Bruce, relenting. 'But he's going the wrong
+way to work if he wishes to retain my good opinion of him. And so I
+shall tell him if he gives me any more of this sort of thing.'
+
+'Instead of bothering about Raggett, I do wish you would answer your
+father's letter, Bruce.'
+
+'Good gracious; surely I need not answer it at once!'
+
+'I think you should.'
+
+'Well, what does he say?'
+
+Bruce had such a dislike to plain facts that he never, if he could avoid
+it, would read a letter to himself containing any business details.
+
+Edith took out the letter.
+
+'Why I've told you already, but you wouldn't listen. On condition that
+you are not late at the office or absent from it except on holidays, for
+any reason, either pleasure or illness, for the next two years, your
+father will pay the debt and help you to start fresh.'
+
+'But how can I be sure I shan't be ill? A man in my delicate state.'
+
+'Oh, assume that you won't. Try not to be--promise to be well. Surely
+it's worth it?'
+
+'Very well, perhaps it is. What a curious, eccentric man the governor
+is! No other man would make such extraordinary conditions. Look here,
+you can write for me, Edith dear, and say I accept the arrangement, and
+I'm awfully obliged and grateful and all that. You'll know how to put
+it. It's a great nuisance though, for I was thinking of giving up the
+whole of tomorrow to rehearsing--and chucking the office. And now I
+can't. It's very awkward.'
+
+'Well, I'll write for you, though you certainly ought to do it yourself,
+but I shall say you are going to see them, and you will--next Sunday,
+won't you?'
+
+'Sunday would be rather an awkward day. I've made a sort of vague
+engagement. However, if you insist, very well.'
+
+'I can't quite understand,' said Edith, after a pause, 'how it is that
+the rehearsals take so long now. Yesterday you said you had to begin at
+eleven and it wasn't over till half-past four. And yet you have only two
+or three words to say in the second act and to announce someone in
+the first.'
+
+'Ah, you don't understand, my dear. One has to be there the whole time
+so as to get into the spirit of the thing. Rehearsals sometimes take
+half the night; especially when you're getting to the end. You just stop
+for a minute or two for a little food, and then start again. Yesterday,
+for instance, it was just like that.'
+
+'Where did you lunch?'
+
+'Oh, I and one or two of the other men looked in at the Carlton.'
+
+'It can't have taken a minute or two. It's a good distance from Victoria
+Street.'
+
+'I know, but we went in the Mitchells' motor. It took no time. And then
+we rushed back, and went on rehearsing. _How_ we work!'
+
+'And what were you going to do tomorrow?'
+
+He hesitated. 'Oh, tomorrow? Well, now, after this promise to the
+governor, I shan't be able to get there till half-past four. I should
+have liked to get there by twelve. And it's very awkward indeed, because
+Miss Flummerfelt asked me to take her out to lunch, and I half promised.
+In fact, I could hardly get out of it.'
+
+'She asked you to take her alone?'
+
+'Oh, in a thing like this you all become such pals and comrades; you
+don't stop to think about chaperones and things. Besides, of course, I
+meant to ask you to join us.'
+
+'Very sweet of you.'
+
+'There's the post,' remarked Bruce.
+
+He went out into the little hall. Edith went with him.
+
+'Who is your letter from?' asked Edith, as they went back.
+
+Bruce blushed a little.
+
+'It _looks_ something like Miss Flummerfelt's handwriting.'
+
+'Oh, do show me the letter!' said Edith, as he seemed about, having read
+it, to put it in the fire. He was obliged to allow her to take it, and
+she read:--
+
+'Dear Mr Ottley,
+
+'It's very kind of you to ask me to lunch tomorrow, but I can't possibly
+manage it. I'm engaged tomorrow, besides which I never go out anywhere
+without my mother.
+
+'Yours sincerely,
+
+'Elsa Flummerfelt.'
+
+
+Edith smiled. 'That's fortunate,' she said. 'After all, you won't have
+the awkwardness of putting her off. What a good thing.'
+
+'I assure you, Edith,' said Bruce, looking very uncomfortable, 'that I
+had forgotten which way it was. But, of course, I felt I ought--as a
+matter of decent civility to Mitchell, don't you know--to ask her once.
+I suppose now that you won't like me going to the rehearsals any more?'
+
+'Oh, no! not at all,' said Edith serenely. 'I see, on the contrary, that
+there is nothing at all to be alarmed at. What a nice girl Miss
+Flummerfelt must be! I like her handwriting.'
+
+'I see nothing particularly nice about her.'
+
+'But she's wonderfully handsome, isn't she?'
+
+'Why no; she has a clumsy figure, drab hair, and a colourless
+complexion. Not at all the type that I admire.'
+
+'You told me the other day that she was an ideal blonde. But, of course,
+that,' said Edith, 'was before she refused to lunch with you!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+Sir Charles
+
+
+Early that afternoon Hyacinth was sitting in the library in the depths
+of depression when Sir Charles Cannon was announced. She had forgotten
+to say she was not at home, or she would not have received him; but it
+was now too late.
+
+He came in, and affecting not to see there was anything the matter, he
+said--
+
+'I've come for some consolation, Hyacinth,'
+
+'Consolation? Is Aunt Janet in a bad temper? I saw her pass yesterday in
+a green bonnet. I was afraid there was something wrong.'
+
+'Is that so? This is interesting. Can you actually tell the shade of her
+temper from the shade of her clothes?'
+
+'Yes. Can't you?'
+
+'I don't know that I ever thought of it.'
+
+'When Auntie is amiable she wears crimson or violet. When she's cross
+she always introduces green or brown into the scheme. You watch her and
+you'll find I'm right.'
+
+'I have observed,' said Sir Charles slowly, 'that when we're going out
+somewhere that she isn't very keen about she always wears a good deal of
+shiny jet, and when we're at home alone and something has happened to
+vex her I seem to remember that she puts on a certain shaded silk dress
+that I particularly hate--because you never know where you are with it,
+sometimes it's brown and sometimes it's yellow. It depends on the light,
+and anyhow it's hideous; it's very stiff, and rustles.'
+
+'I know. Shot taffeta! Oh, that's a very bad sign. Has she worn it
+lately?'
+
+'Yes, she has, a good deal.'
+
+'What's been the matter?'
+
+'Oh, she has--may I smoke? Thanks--some mysterious grievance against
+you. She's simply furious. It seems it has something to do with somebody
+called Jane's sister.'
+
+'Oh! Tell me about it.'
+
+'Well, it appears Jane's sister wants to come and be your housemaid, and
+you won't let her, and she's very disappointed. You've no idea how badly
+you've behaved to Jane's sister.'
+
+'Fancy! How horrid of me! Tell me some more.'
+
+'And it's all through Miss Yeo. In fact, Anne's enmity to Jane's sister
+is quite extraordinary--unheard of. By some deep and malicious plot it
+seems she prevented you yielding to your better nature--or
+something--and there it is. Oh, Hyacinth, I wish she hadn't! It makes
+your aunt so nasty to me. Yes, _I_ get the worst of it, I can tell you.'
+
+'Poor Charles! I am sorry. If I'd known that you were going to suffer
+for it, I should have insisted on engaging her. Is it too late now? I
+believe we've got another housemaid, but can't she come too?'
+
+'I fear it is too late. And when Janet has got accustomed to a grievance
+she doesn't like having it taken away either. No, nothing can be done.
+And I _am_ having a time of it! However, it's a great comfort to see
+you. You're never worried are you?'
+
+'Never worried! Why, Charles, if you only knew--of course I've _been_
+divinely happy, but just now I'm in real trouble.'
+
+He looked at her.
+
+'But I can't bear anyone to know it.'
+
+'Then don't tell me,' he said.
+
+'Oh, I must tell you! Besides, very likely you'll hear it soon.' Then
+she added,' It's not impossible that Cecil and I may separate.'
+
+'My dear child!'
+
+'I believe he likes someone else better.'
+
+'This is nonsense, Hyacinth. A mere lovers' quarrel. Of course, you must
+make it up at once. He's devoted to you. Who could help it?'
+
+She broke down.
+
+'Oh, Charles, I'm so unhappy.'
+
+Sir Charles felt furious indignation at the idea that any man could
+cause those tears to flow. He put his arm round her as if she had been
+a child.
+
+'My dear Hyacinth, don't be foolish. This is not serious; it can't be.'
+He had known her intimately since she was ten and had never seen her
+cry before.
+
+The old tenderness surged up in his heart.
+
+'Can I do anything, dear?'
+
+'No, no, Charles. I should _die_ if he knew I had told you!'
+
+'Surely it must be your imagination.'
+
+'I think he deceives me, and I know he prefers that horrid woman.'
+
+'Don't cry, Hyacinth.'
+
+She cried more, with her face buried in a cushion.
+
+He kissed the top of her head pityingly, as if in absence of mind. He
+remembered it was the first time for eight years. Then he got up and
+looked out of the window.
+
+'Cecil can't be such a blackguard. He's a very good fellow. Who is this
+new friend that you're making yourself miserable about?'
+
+'It isn't a new friend; it's Lady Selsey.'
+
+Sir Charles stared in amazement.
+
+'Eugenia! Why she's the best creature in the world--utterly incapable
+of--I'm perfectly certain she cares for nobody in the world but Selsey.
+Besides, to regard her as a rival of yours at all is grotesque, child.'
+
+'Ah, yes; you say that because you regard me almost as your daughter,
+and you think I'm pretty and younger, and so on. But that's not
+everything. There are no standards, no rules in these things. And even
+if there were, the point is not what she is, but what he thinks her. He
+thinks her wonderful.'
+
+'Well, what has happened?'
+
+'Never mind the details. I know his _feelings_--and that is everything.'
+
+'You've had a quarrel, I suppose, and he's gone out of the house in a
+temper. Is that it?'
+
+'I told him that I should leave him and go away somewhere with Anne.'
+
+'Anne wouldn't go, of course.'
+
+'You're right. She wouldn't when I asked her this morning, or I should
+be on my way to Paris by now.'
+
+'If he treated you really badly,' said Sir Charles, 'she would have
+gone. It must be that she knows there's nothing in it.'
+
+'I've offered to remain, on condition that we are merely friends. And he
+won't hear of it.'
+
+'No wonder,' said Sir Charles. 'Now Hyacinth you know you've always been
+a spoilt child and had everything on earth you wanted. You must remember
+in life sometimes little things won't go right.'
+
+'Anything might have gone wrong--anything in the world, and I would have
+borne it and not cared--but _that_!'
+
+'I would do anything to see you happy again,' he said. 'You know that.'
+
+She looked up. There is a tone in the accents of genuine love that
+nothing can simulate. She was touched.
+
+'Look here, Hyacinth, promise me to do nothing without letting me know.'
+
+'I promise, Charles.'
+
+'And I assure you that everything will come right. I know--I've had a
+little experience of the world. Won't you trust my judgement?'
+
+'I'll try. You are a comfort, Charles.'
+
+'And to think that I came to you for consolation!' he said. 'Well,
+Hyacinth, I shall bury this--forget all about it. Next time I see you
+you'll be beaming again. It's a passing cloud. Now, what do you think
+I've got to do? I've got to go home and fetch Janet to go to a meeting
+of the Dante Society at Broadwater House.'
+
+'Good gracious! What on earth does Aunt Janet know about Dante?'
+
+'Nothing, indeed. I believe she thinks he wrote a poem called "Petrarch
+and Laura." But someone told her it's the right thing to do; and when
+Janet thinks anything is the right thing--!' He took his hat and stick.
+'Try and forgive Cecil. I'm sure he adores you. We all do.'
+
+'Thanks, Charles. And I do hope Aunt Janet won't be wearing her green
+bonnet this afternoon.'
+
+'Thank you, dear, I trust not. Good-bye.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+Rehearsing
+
+
+'How did you get on at the rehearsal today?' Edith asked.
+
+Bruce was looking rather depressed.
+
+'Not very well. You can't think how much jealousy there is in these
+things! When you rehearse with people day after day you begin to find
+out what their real characters are. And Mitchell always had a very nasty
+temper. Of course, _he_ says it's quick and soon over. He thinks that's
+the best kind to have. I think he's rather proud of it. The fact is he
+has it so often that it's as bad as if it were slow and not soon over.
+First of all, you know, there was a kind of scene about whether or not I
+should shave for the part of the footman. _He_ said I ought. _I_
+declared I wouldn't ruin my appearance just for the sake of a miserable
+little part like that; in fact, I might say for a few minutes in a
+couple of hours during one evening in my life! At last we compromised.
+I'm to wear a kind of thing invented by Clarkson, or somebody like that,
+which gums down the moustache, so that you don't notice it'
+
+'But you don't notice it, anyhow, much.'
+
+'What do you mean by that?'
+
+'I don't mean anything. But I never heard of anybody noticing it. No-one
+has ever made any remark to me about it.'
+
+'They wouldn't take the liberty. It can't have passed unnoticed,
+because, if it had, why should Mitchell ask me to shave?'
+
+'There is something in that, I must admit,' she answered.
+
+'Well, I consented to this suggestion of Mitchell's, though I don't like
+it at all, and I daresay it will spoil my appearance altogether. It was
+about something else we had a bit of a tiff this afternoon. We were
+going through the whole play, and one or two people were to be allowed
+to see us. Mitchell said he expected a certain manager, who is a pal of
+his, to criticise us--give us some hints, and so on. I saw a man who
+hadn't been there before, and I spotted him at once. He looked like a
+celebrity. Without waiting for an introduction, I went up and asked him
+what he thought of our performance. He said it seemed all right. Then I
+asked him if he considered my reading of my part what he would have done
+himself, and he laughed and said, "Yes, very much the same." We were
+criticising the other actors and having a long talk--at least _I_ was
+having a long talk,--_he_ didn't say much--when he suddenly said, "I'm
+afraid you must excuse me," and went away. Then Mitchell came up to me
+and said, "How on earth is it you had so much to say to that chap?" I
+said (still believing he was the manager) that he was an old
+acquaintance of mine, at least, I had known him a long time--on and
+off--and that he seemed very pleased to see me again. Mitchell said,
+"Oh, you met him before today, did you?" I answered, "Yes, rather," and
+I said, "He was very friendly, I must say. He's very pleased with my
+performance. I shouldn't be surprised if he sends me a box for his First
+Night. If he does you must come, you and Mrs Mitchell." As a matter of
+fact, I _had_ hinted that I should like a box for the First Night at the
+Haymarket, and he had laughed good-naturedly, and said, "Oh, yes." So it
+was really no wonder that I regarded that as a promise. Well, when I
+told him that, Mitchell said, "He offered you a box, did he? Very nice
+of him. You know who he is, don't you? He's a man who has come to see
+about the electric lighting for the footlights. I've never seen him
+before." Now, you know, Edith, it was a most infernal shame of Mitchell
+to let me make the mistake with his eyes open. Here was I talking about
+acting and plays, deferentially consulting him, asking for artistic
+hints and boxes from an electrical engineer! Oh, it's too bad, it
+really is.'
+
+'So you quarrelled with Mitchell again?'
+
+'We had a few words.'
+
+'Then the manager was not there?'
+
+'No; he'd promised, but didn't turn up. I told Mitchell what I thought
+of him in very plain terms. I went so far even as to threaten to throw
+up my part, and he said, "Well, all right, if you don't like it you can
+give it up at any time," I said, "Who else could you get at the last
+minute to play a footman's part?" and he said, "Our footman!"'
+
+'That would be realism, wouldn't it?'
+
+'I was awfully hurt, but it was settled I was to stick to it. Then there
+are other things. That horrid Miss Flummerfelt--how I do dislike that
+girl--had been silly enough to go boasting to Mrs Mitchell of my
+invitation to lunch the other day.'
+
+'Boasting!' said Edith.
+
+'Yes, it was a shame, because of course I only asked her simply and
+solely as a way of returning some of the Mitchells' hospitality--'
+
+'Then why did you mind their knowing?' Edith inquired.
+
+'I _didn't_ mind their knowing. How stupid you are, Edith. But I
+objected strongly to the tone in which Miss Flummerfelt had evidently
+spoken of it--to the light in which she had represented the whole thing.
+Mrs Mitchell came up to me in her soft purring way--what a horrid little
+woman she is!'
+
+'Why, you told me she was so sweet and charming!'
+
+'I didn't know her so well then. She came up to me and said, "Oh, Mr
+Ottley, will you think it rude of me if I suggest that you don't ask
+dear Elsa out to lunch any more? She said it's so awkward always
+refusing, but she's not allowed to go out like that without her mother.
+In fact, though her father is German by birth, she's been brought up
+quite in the French style. And though, of course, we know you meant no
+harm, she's positively shocked. You really mustn't flirt with her, Mr
+Ottley. She doesn't like it. In fact, she asked me to speak to you about
+it." There was a nice position for me, Edith! Isn't Miss Flummerfelt a
+treacherous little beast?'
+
+'I thought you said she was so enormously tall. A regal-looking creature
+was what you called her the first time you met her. Anyhow, you must
+have been trying to flirt with her, Bruce. I think it rather serves you
+right. Well, what happened?'
+
+'I said that I was very much astonished at Miss Flummerfelt's
+misunderstanding me so completely. I even said that some girls have a
+way of taking everything as if it was meant--in that sort of way, and
+that I had only asked her to lunch to meet my wife. But, of course, I
+promised not to do it again. And now it will be rather awful at the
+rehearsals, because Mrs Mitchell, of course, told her back, and Miss
+Flummerfelt and I don't speak.'
+
+'Well, after all, it doesn't matter so very much. You only have to
+announce her. It's with the woman who plays Lady Jenkins you have your
+longer scene, isn't it? What is she like?'
+
+'Mrs Abbot, do you mean? Oh, I don't think much of her. She's acted
+before and thinks herself quite as good as a professional, and
+frightfully smart. She's the most absurd snob you ever saw. She had the
+cheek to criticise me and say that I don't move about the room
+naturally, like a real footman. I told her, rather ironically, that I
+was afraid I'd never been one. So she answered, "Still, you might have
+seen one." Oh, I have a good deal to go through, one way and another!'
+
+'You'll be glad when it's over, won't you?'
+
+'Very glad. The strain's telling on my health. But I've been better on
+the whole, I think, don't you?'
+
+'Yes, indeed. You know you have to be,' Edith said.
+
+'Of course--I know. Try not to make me late again tomorrow.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+The Solution
+
+
+As Sir Charles was walking back from the Reeves' house, he met Anne Yeo
+in Piccadilly. She had just taken the telegram from Eugenia. He greeted
+her warmly and asked her to walk a little way with him, to which she
+agreed, silently giving him credit for so heroically concealing his
+consciousness of her odd appearance. She herself was well aware that in
+her mackintosh, driving-gloves, and eternal golf-cap she presented a
+sufficiently singular effect, and that there were not many people in
+London at three o'clock on a sunny afternoon who would care to be found
+dead with her.
+
+'I've just seen Hyacinth,' he said.
+
+'Then you know about the trouble?'
+
+'What trouble?'
+
+'As if she could help telling you! However, it's going to be all right.'
+
+'Do you think so?'
+
+'I'm certain.'
+
+'I never thought him good enough for her,' Sir Charles said.
+
+'Who is?' she asked.
+
+'Has he really been--philandering?'
+
+'Probably. Don't all men?'
+
+'You're as great a cynic as ever, I see,' he laughingly said.
+
+'And you're as noble as ever. But I won't tax your chivalry too far.
+Good-bye,' and she abruptly left him.
+
+She was on her way to Cook's. She had suddenly decided to emigrate.
+
+Sir Charles wondered why Anne was so sure, but her words had comforted
+him. He believed her. He not only thought that she must be right, but he
+instinctively felt certain that she had taken some steps in the matter
+which would result in success. Some people liked Anne, many detested
+her, but she inspired in both friends and enemies a species of trust.
+
+At half-past seven that evening Cecil turned the key in the door and
+went into the house. It was the first time he had ever come home with a
+feeling of uneasiness and dread; a sensation at once of fear and of
+boredom. Until now he had always known that he would receive a delighted
+welcome, all sweetness and affection. He had always had the delicious
+incense of worshipping admiration swung before him in the perfumed
+atmosphere of love and peace. Had he held all this too cheaply? Had he
+accepted the devotion a little pontifically and condescendingly? Had he
+been behaving like a pompous ass? He had really enjoyed his wife's
+homage the more because he had liked to think that he still yearned for
+the impossible, that he had been deprived by Fate of his ideal, that
+absence and distance had only raised higher in his thoughts the one
+romantic passion of his life. What a fool he had been! All he felt at
+this moment about Eugenia was impatient annoyance. There is a great deal
+of the schoolboy in an Englishman of thirty. Cecil just now regarded her
+simply as the person who had got him into a row. Why had she taken him
+for that imprudent drive?
+
+As he went into the little boudoir it happened that Hyacinth was turning
+her back to him. It was usually a part of their ritual that she came to
+meet him. So this seemed to him an evil omen.
+
+She stood looking out of the window, very tall, very slender, her brown
+hair piled in its dense mass on her small head. When she turned round he
+saw she held a telegram in her hand.
+
+'What is the meaning of this?' she said, as she held it out to him.
+
+He took it from her and sat down to read it, feeling as he did so
+unpleasantly heavy, stupid, and stolid in contrast to the flash of her
+blue eyes and the pale tragedy in her face. It was the first time he had
+ever felt her inferior. As a rule the person found out in a betrayal of
+love holds, all the same, the superior position of the two. It is the
+betrayed one who is humiliated.
+
+'What does it mean?' he said. 'Why it means that they have to put us
+off. They are evidently going away. What it means is fairly obvious.'
+
+'Ah, _why_ have they put us off? You have been to see her! You must have
+arranged this. Yes, you have given me away to her, Cecil; you have let
+her know I was jealous! It is worse than anything else! I shall never
+forgive you for this.'
+
+He gave her back the telegram with an air of dazed resignation.
+
+'My dear girl, I give you my solemn word of honour that I know nothing
+whatever about it.'
+
+'Really? Well, it is very strange. It is most extraordinary! She says
+she is writing. I suppose we shall hear.'
+
+'Are we going to have dinner?'
+
+'You agree to what I suggested this morning, Cecil?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Very well, then; I shan't dine with you.'
+
+'Oh, confound it! I don't want to go out again.'
+
+'Pray don't. I shall dine in my room,' and she walked to the door. As
+she left the room she turned round and said--
+
+'Oh, to think how that creature must be enjoying it!' and went upstairs.
+
+'If she isn't enjoying it any more than I am, she isn't having much of a
+time,' said Cecil aloud to himself. He then dined in solemn silence,
+Hyacinth (with a headache) being served in her own room.
+
+When dinner was over he was glancing through the paper, wondering how he
+should spend the evening, when a note arrived by a messenger. He saw it
+was for Hyacinth, and in Eugenia's handwriting.
+
+A few minutes later she came down, holding it in her hand.
+
+'Cecil, she has written to me. She says they're going for a long
+yachting cruise, that they won't be back in their house for a year.'
+
+'Well, have you any objection?'
+
+'Have you?' she asked, looking at him narrowly.
+
+'No, I'm only too glad!'
+
+'Did you ask her to do this?'
+
+'Don't be idiotic. How could I ask her? I've neither seen nor
+communicated with her.'
+
+'Then how do you account for it, Cecil?'
+
+'I don't account for it. Why should I? It isn't the first time Uncle
+Ted's gone yachting. Though he hasn't done it for some years. He was
+always saying he wanted to go to Crete, Samos, and the Ionian Islands.
+He used to talk a good deal about wanting to see the Leucadian Rock.'
+
+'What's that?' She spoke suspiciously.
+
+'A place that some woman threw herself into the sea from.'
+
+'Lately, do you mean?'
+
+'Oh, no--some time ago. Anyhow, he wanted to see it I'm sure _I_ don't
+know why. But that was his idea.'
+
+'Well, she _says_ they're going to Greece, so perhaps you're right. And
+are you really, really not sorry that she's going?'
+
+'Not at all, if I'm going to have a little peace now.'
+
+'Oh, Cecil,' she implored, 'have I been unfair to you?'
+
+'Horribly unfair.'
+
+'I'm very, very sorry. I see I was wrong. Oh, how could I be so horrid?'
+
+'You _were_ down on me! Why, you wanted to go away! You did make me
+pretty miserable.'
+
+'Oh, poor boy! Then you don't care a bit for that woman, really?'
+
+'Do you mean Eugenia? Not a straw!'
+
+'And, oh, Cecil, if I'm _never_ so horrid and bad-tempered again, will
+you forgive me?'
+
+'Well, I'll try,' said Cecil.
+
+
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Love's Shadow, by Ada Leverson
+
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+Title: Love's Shadow
+
+Author: Ada Leverson
+
+Release Date: January, 2006  [EBook #9786]
+[This file was first posted on October 16, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LOVE'S SHADOW ***
+
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Beginners Projects, Virginia Paque, and
+the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LOVE'S SHADOW
+
+ADA LEVERSON
+
+First Published London, 1908.
+
+(Book One of THE LITTLE OTTLEYS)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Love's Shadow]
+
+
+   Love like a shadow flies
+      When substance love pursues;
+    Pursuing that that flies,
+      And flying what pursues.
+
+                     SHAKESPEARE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Hyacinth
+
+
+'There's only one thing I must really implore you, Edith,' said Bruce
+anxiously. '_Don't_ make me late at the office!'
+
+'Certainly not, Bruce,' answered Edith sedately. She was seated opposite
+her husband at breakfast in a very new, very small, very white flat in
+Knightsbridge--exactly like thousands of other new, small, white flats.
+She was young and pretty, but not obvious. One might suppose that she
+was more subtle than was shown by her usual expression, which was merely
+cheerful and intelligent.
+
+'Now I have to write that letter before I go,' Bruce exclaimed, starting
+up and looking at her reproachfully. 'Why didn't I write it last night?'
+
+Edith hadn't the slightest idea, as she had heard nothing of the letter
+before, but, in the course of three years, she had learnt that it saved
+time to accept trifling injustices. So she looked guilty and a little
+remorseful. He magnanimously forgave her, and began to write the letter
+at a neat white writing-table.
+
+'How many g's are there in "Raggett"?' he asked suspiciously.
+
+She didn't answer, apparently overtaken by a sudden fit of absence of
+mind.
+
+'Only one, of course. How absurd you are!' said her husband, laughing,
+as he finished the letter and came back to the table.
+
+She poured out more coffee.
+
+'It's a curious thing,' he went on in a tone of impartial regret, 'that,
+with all the fuss about modern culture and higher education nowadays,
+girls are not even taught to spell!'
+
+'Yes, isn't it? But even if I had been taught, it might not have been
+much use. I might just not have been taught to spell "Raggett". It's a
+name, isn't it?'
+
+'It's a very well-known name,' said Bruce.
+
+'I daresay it is, but I don't know it. Would you like to see the boy
+before you go?'
+
+'What a question! I always like to see the boy. But you know perfectly
+well I haven't time this morning.'
+
+'Very well, dear. You can see him this afternoon.'
+
+'Why do you say that? You know I'm going golfing with Goldthorpe! It
+really is hard, Edith, when a man has to work so much that he has
+scarcely any time for his wife and child.'
+
+She looked sympathetic.
+
+'What are you doing today?' he asked.
+
+'Hyacinth's coming to fetch me for a drive in the motor.'
+
+His face brightened. He said kindly, 'I _am_ so glad, darling, that you
+have such a delightful friend--when I can't be with you. I admire
+Hyacinth very much, in every way. She seems devoted to you, too, which
+is really very nice of her. What I mean to say is, that in her position
+she might know anybody. You see my point?'
+
+'Quite.'
+
+'How did you meet her originally?'
+
+'We were school-friends.'
+
+'She's such a lovely creature; I wonder she doesn't marry.'
+
+'Yes, but she has to find someone else whom _she_ thinks a lovely
+creature, too.'
+
+'Edith, dear.'
+
+'Yes, Bruce.'
+
+'I wish you wouldn't snap me up like that. Oh, I know you don't mean it,
+but it's growing on you, rather.'
+
+She tried to look serious, and said gently, 'Is it, really? I am sorry.'
+
+'You don't mind me telling you of it, do you?'
+
+'Not at all. I'm afraid you will be late, Bruce.'
+
+He started up and hurried away, reminding Edith that dinner was to be at
+eight. They parted with affectionate smiles.
+
+When he had gone down in the lift, Edith took an inextensive walk
+through the entire flat, going into each room, and looking at herself in
+every looking-glass. She appeared to like herself best in the
+dining-room mirror, for she returned, stared into it rather gravely for
+some little time, and then said to herself: 'Yes, I'm beginning to
+look bored.'
+
+Then she rang the bell, and the nurse brought in a pretty little boy of
+nearly two, Huffily dressed in white, who was excited at the prospect of
+his great morning treat--going down in the lift. Speaking of him with
+some formality as Master Archie, she asked the nurse a few questions,
+which she mistakenly supposed gave that personage the impression that
+she knew all that there was to be known about children. When she was
+alone with him for a minute she rushed at him impulsively, saying,
+privately, 'Heavenly pet! Divine angel! Duck!' in return for which he
+pulled her hair down and scratched her face with a small empty Noah's
+Ark that he was taking out with him for purposes of his own.
+
+When he had gone she did her hair up again in a different way--parted in
+the middle. It was very pretty, wavy, fair hair, and she had small,
+regular features, so the new way suited her very well. Then she
+said again--
+
+'Yes, if it were not for Hyacinth I should soon look bored to death!'
+
+
+Hyacinth Verney was the romance of Edith's life. She also provided a
+good deal of romance in the lives of several other people. Her position
+was unusual, and her personality fascinating. She had no parents, was an
+heiress, and lived alone with a companion in a quaint little house just
+out of Berkeley Square, with a large studio, that was never used for
+painting. She had such an extraordinary natural gift for making people
+of both sexes fond of her, that it would have been difficult to say
+which, of all the persons who loved her, showed the most intense
+devotion in the most immoderate way. Probably her cousin and guardian,
+Sir Charles Cannon, and her companion, Anne Yeo, spent more thought and
+time in her service than did anybody else. Edith's imagination had been
+fired in their school-days by her friend's beauty and cleverness, and by
+the fact that she had a guardian, like a book. Then Hyacinth had come
+out and gone in for music, for painting, and for various other arts and
+pursuits of an absorbing character. She had hardly any acquaintances
+except her relations, but possessed an enormously large number of
+extremely intimate friends--a characteristic that had remained to her
+from her childhood.
+
+Hyacinth's ideal of society was to have no padding, so that most of the
+members of her circle were types. Still, as she had a perfect passion
+for entertaining, there remained, of course, a residue; distant elderly
+connections with well-sounding names (as ballast), and a few vague
+hangers-on; several rather dull celebrities, some merely pretty and
+well-dressed women, and a steadily increasing number of good-looking
+young men. Hyacinth was fond of decoration.
+
+As she frankly admitted, she had rather fallen back on Edith, finding
+her, after many experiments, the most agreeable of friends, chiefly
+because in their intercourses everything was always taken for granted.
+Like sisters, they understood one another without explanation--_à
+demi-mot_.
+
+
+While Edith waited impatiently in the hall of the flat, Anne Yeo, her
+unacknowledged rival in Hyacinth's affections, was doing needlework in
+the window-seat of the studio, and watching Hyacinth, who, dressed to go
+out, was walking up and down the room. With a rather wooden face, high
+cheek-bones, a tall, thin figure, and no expression, Anne might have
+been any age; but she was not. She made every effort to look quite forty
+so as to appear more suitable as a chaperone, but was in reality barely
+thirty. She was thinking, as she often thought, that Hyacinth looked too
+romantic for everyday life. When they had travelled together this fact
+had been rather a nuisance.
+
+'Why, when you call at the Stores to order groceries, must you look as
+if you were going to elope?' she asked dryly. 'In an ordinary motorveil
+you have the air of hastening to some mysterious appointment.'
+
+'But I'm only going to fetch Edith Ottley for a drive,' said Hyacinth.
+'How bored she must get with her little Foreign Office clerk! The way he
+takes his authority as a husband seriously is pathetic. He hasn't the
+faintest idea the girl is cleverer than he is.'
+
+'You'd far better leave her alone, and not point it out,' said Anne.
+'You're always bothering about these little Ottleys now. But you've been
+very restless lately. Whenever you try to do people good, and especially
+when you motor so much and so fast, I recognise the symptoms. It's
+coming on again, and you're trying to get away from it.'
+
+'Don't say that. I'm never going to care about anyone again,' said
+Hyacinth.
+
+'You don't know it, but when you're not in love you're not yourself,'
+Anne continued. 'It's all you live for.'
+
+'Oh, Anne!'
+
+'It's quite true. It's nearly three months since you--had an attack.
+Blair was the last. Now you're beginning to take the same sort of
+interest in Cecil Reeve.'
+
+'How mistaken you are, Anne! I don't take at all the same interest in
+him. It's a totally different thing. I don't really even like him.'
+
+'You wouldn't go out today if you were expecting him.'
+
+'Yes, but I'm not ... and he doesn't care two straws about me. Once he
+said he never worshipped in a crowded temple!'
+
+'It's a curious coincidence that ever since then you've been out to
+everyone else,' said Anne.
+
+'I don't really like him--so very much. When he _does_ smile, of course
+it's rather nice. Why does he hate me?'
+
+'I can't think,' said Anne.
+
+'He doesn't hate me! How can you say so?' cried Hyacinth.
+
+'Doesn't he?'
+
+'Perhaps it's because he thinks I look Spanish. He may disapprove of
+looking Spanish,' suggested Hyacinth.
+
+'Very likely.'
+
+Hyacinth laughed, kissed her, and went out. Anne followed her graceful
+figure with disapproving, admiring eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+The Anxieties of Sir Charles
+
+
+Like all really uncommon beauties, Hyacinth could only be adequately
+described by the most hackneyed phrases. Her eyes were authentically
+sapphire-coloured; brilliant, frank eyes, with a subtle mischief in
+them, softened by the most conciliating long eyelashes. Then, her mouth
+was really shaped like a Cupid's bow, and her teeth _were_ dazzling;
+also she had a wealth of dense, soft, brown hair and a tall, sylphlike,
+slimly-rounded figure. Her features were delicately regular, and her
+hands and feet perfection. Her complexion was extremely fair, so she was
+not a brunette; some remote Spanish ancestor on her mother's side was,
+however, occasionally mentioned as an apology for a type and a supple
+grace sometimes complained of by people with white eyelashes as rather
+un-English. So many artistic young men had told her she was like La
+Gioconda, that when she first saw the original in the Louvre she was so
+disappointed that she thought she would never smile again.
+
+About ten minutes after the pretty creature had gone out, Anne, who had
+kept her eyes steadily on the clock, looked out of the window, from
+which she could see a small brougham driving up. She called out into
+the hall--
+
+'If that's Sir Charles Cannon, tell him Miss Verney is out, but I have a
+message for him.'
+
+A minute later there entered a thin and distinguished-looking,
+grey-haired man of about forty-five, wearing a smile of such excessive
+cordiality that one felt it could only have been brought to his
+well-bred lips by acute disappointment. Anne did not take the smile
+literally, but began to explain away the blow.
+
+'I'm so sorry,' she said apologetically. 'I'm afraid it's partly my
+fault. When she suddenly decided to go out with that little Mrs Ottley,
+she told me vaguely to telephone to you. But how on earth could I know
+where you were?'
+
+'How indeed? It doesn't matter in the least, my dear Miss Yeo. I mean,
+it's most unfortunate, as I've just a little free time. Lady Cannon's
+gone to a matinée at the St James's. We had tickets for the first night,
+but of course she wouldn't use them then. She preferred to go alone in
+the afternoon, because she detests the theatre, anyhow, and afternoon
+performances give her a headache. And if she does a thing that's
+disagreeable to her, she likes to do it in the most painful possible
+way. She has a beautiful nature.'
+
+Anne smiled, and passed him a little gold box.
+
+'Have a cigarette?' she suggested.
+
+'Thanks--I'm not really in a bad temper. But why this relapse of
+devotion to little Mrs Ottley? And why are you and I suddenly treated
+with marked neglect?'
+
+'Mrs Ottley,' said Anne, 'is one of those young women, rather bored with
+their husbands, who are the worst possible companions for Hyacinth. They
+put her off marrying.'
+
+'Bored, is she? She didn't strike me so. A pleasant, bright girl. I
+suppose she amuses Hyacinth?'
+
+'Yes; of course, she's not a dull old maid over forty, like me,' said
+Anne.
+
+'No-one would believe that description of you,' said Sir Charles, with a
+bow that was courtly but absent. As a matter of fact, he did believe it,
+but it wasn't true.
+
+'If dear little Mrs Ottley,' he continued, 'married in too great a
+hurry, far be it from me to reproach her. I married in a hurry
+myself--when Hyacinth was ten.'
+
+'And when she was eighteen you were very sorry,' said Anne in her
+colourless voice.
+
+'Don't let us go into that, Miss Yeo. Of course, Hyacinth is a
+beautiful--responsibility. People seem to think she ought to have gone
+on living with us when she left school. But how was it possible?
+Hyacinth said she intended to live for her art, and Lady Cannon couldn't
+stand the scent of oils.' He glanced round the large panelled-oak room
+in which not a picture was to be seen. The only indication of its having
+ever been meant for a studio was the north light, carefully obstructed
+(on the grounds of unbecomingness) by gently-tinted draperies of some
+fabric suggesting Liberty's. 'Life wasn't worth living, trying to keep
+the peace!'
+
+'But you must have missed her?'
+
+'Still, I prefer coming to see her here. And knowing she has you with
+her is, after all, everything.'
+
+He looked a question.
+
+'Yes, she has. I mean, she seems rather--absorbed again lately,' said
+Anne.
+
+'Who is it?' he asked. 'I always feel so indiscreet and treacherous
+talking over her private affairs like this with you, though she tells me
+everything herself. I'm not sure it's the act of a simple, loyal,
+Christian English gentleman; in fact, I'm pretty certain it's not. I
+suppose that's why I enjoy it so much.'
+
+'I daresay,' said Anne; 'but she wouldn't mind it.'
+
+'What has been happening?'
+
+'Nothing interesting. Hazel Kerr came here the other day and brought
+with him a poem in bronze lacquer, as he called it. He read it
+aloud--the whole of it.'
+
+'Good heavens! Poetry! Do people still do that sort of thing? I thought
+it had gone out years ago--when I was a young man.'
+
+'Of course, so it has. But Hazel Kerr is out of date. Hyacinth says he's
+almost a classic.'
+
+'His verses?'
+
+'Oh no! His method. She says he's an interesting survival--he's walked
+straight out of another age--the nineties, you know. There were poets in
+those days.'
+
+'Method! He was much too young then to have a style at all, surely!'
+
+'That _was_ the style. It was the right thing to be very young in the
+nineties. It isn't now.'
+
+'It's not so easy now, for some of us,' murmured Sir Charles.
+
+'But Hazel keeps it up,' Anne answered.
+
+Sir Charles laughed irritably. 'He keeps it up, does he? But he sits
+people out openly, that shows he's not really dangerous. One doesn't
+worry about Hazel. It's that young man who arrives when everybody's
+going, or goes before anyone else arrives, that's what I'm a little
+anxious about.'
+
+'If you mean Cecil Reeve, Hyacinth says he doesn't like her.'
+
+'I'm sorry to hear that. If anything will interest her, that will. Yet I
+don't know why I should mind. At any rate, he certainly isn't trying to
+marry her for interested reasons, as he's very well off--or perhaps for
+any reasons. I'm told he's clever, too.'
+
+'His appearance is not against him either,' said Anne dryly; 'so what's
+the matter with him?'
+
+'I don't know exactly. I think he's capable of playing with her.'
+
+'Perhaps he doesn't really appreciate her,' suggested Anne.
+
+'Oh, yes, he does. He's a connoisseur--confound him! He appreciates her
+all right. But it's all for himself--not for her. By the way, I've heard
+his name mentioned with another woman's name. But I happen to know
+there's nothing in it.'
+
+'Would you really like her to marry soon?' Anne asked.
+
+'In her position it would be better, I suppose,' said her guardian, with
+obvious distaste to the idea.
+
+'Has there ever been anyone that you thoroughly approved of?' asked
+Anne.
+
+He shook his head.
+
+'I rather doubt if there ever will be,' Anne said.
+
+'She's so clever, so impulsive! She lives so much on her emotions. If
+she were disappointed--in that way--it would mean so much to her,' Sir
+Charles said.
+
+'She does change rather often,' said Anne.
+
+'Of course, she's never really known her own mind.' He took a letter out
+of his pocket. 'I came partly to show her a letter from Ella--my girl at
+school in Paris, you know. Hyacinth is so kind to her. She writes to me
+very confidentially. I hope she's being properly brought up!'
+
+'Let me read it.'
+
+She read--
+
+'DARLING PAPA,
+
+'I'm having heavenly fun at school. Last night there was a ball for
+Madame's birthday. A proper grown-up ball, and we all danced. The men
+weren't bad. I had a lovely Easter egg, a chocolate egg, and inside that
+another egg with chocolate in it, and inside that another egg with a
+dear little turquoise charm in it. One man said I was a blonde anglaise,
+and had a keepsake face; and another has taken the Prix de Rome, and is
+going to be a schoolmaster. There were no real ices. Come over and see
+me soon. It's such a long time to the holidays. Love to mother.
+
+'Your loving,
+
+'ELLA.'
+
+
+'A curious letter--for her age,' said Ella's father, replacing it. 'I
+wish she were here. It seems a pity Lady Cannon can't stand the noise of
+practising--and so on. Well, perhaps it's for the best.' He got up.
+'Miss Yeo, I must go and fetch Lady Cannon now, but I'll come back at
+half-past six for a few minutes--on my way to the club.'
+
+'She's sure to be here then,' replied Anne consolingly; 'and do persuade
+her not to waste all her time being kind to Edith Ottley. It can't do
+any good. She'd better leave them alone.'
+
+'Really, it's a very innocent amusement. I think you're overanxious.'
+
+'It's only that I'm afraid she might get mixed up in--well, some
+domestic row.'
+
+'Surely it can't be as bad as that! Why--is Mr Ottley in love with her?'
+he asked, smiling.
+
+'Very much indeed,' said Anne.
+
+'Oh, really, Miss Yeo!--and does Mrs Ottley know it?'
+
+'No, nor Hyacinth either. He doesn't know it himself.'
+
+'Then if nobody knows it, it can't matter very much,' said Sir Charles,
+feeling vaguely uncomfortable all the same. Before he went he took up a
+portrait of Hyacinth in an Empire dress with laurel leaves in her hair.
+It was a beautiful portrait. Anne thought that from the way he looked at
+it, anyone could have guessed Lady Cannon had tight lips and wore a
+royal fringe.... They parted with great friendliness.
+
+Anne's wooden, inexpressive countenance was a great comfort to Sir
+Charles, in some moods. Though she was clever enough, she did not have
+that superfluity of sympathy and responsiveness that makes one go away
+regretting one has said so much, and disliking the other person for
+one's expansion. One never felt that she had understood too accurately,
+nor that one had given oneself away, nor been indiscreetly curious....
+It was like talking to a chair. What a good sort Anne was!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Anne Yeo
+
+
+'Would you like me to play to you a little?' Anne asked, when Hyacinth
+had returned and was sitting in the carved-oak chimney-corner, looking
+thoughtful and picturesque.
+
+'Oh no, please don't! Besides, I know you can't'
+
+'No, thank goodness!' exclaimed Anne. 'I know I'm useful and practical,
+and I don't mind that; but anyhow, I'm not cheerful, musical, and a
+perfect lady, in exchange for a comfortable home, am I?'
+
+'No, indeed,' said Hyacinth fervently.
+
+'No-one can speak of me as "that pleasant, cultivated creature who lives
+with Miss Verney," can they?'
+
+'Not, at any rate, if they have any regard for truth,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'I wish you wouldn't make me laugh. Why should I have a sense of humour?
+I sometimes think that all your friends imagine it's part of my duty to
+shriek with laughter at their wretched jokes. It wasn't in the contract.
+If I were pretty, my ambition would have been to be an adventuress; but
+an adventuress with no adventures would be a little flat. I might have
+the worst intentions, but I should never have the chance of carrying
+them out. So I try to be as much as possible like Thackeray's shabby
+companion in a dyed silk.'
+
+'Is that why you wear a sackcloth blouse trimmed with ashes?' said
+Hyacinth, with curiosity.
+
+'No, that's merely stinginess. It's my nature to be morbidly economical,
+though I know I needn't be. If I hadn't had £500 a year left me, I
+should never have been able to come and live here, and drop all my
+horrid relations. I enjoy appearing dependent and being a spectator, and
+I've absolutely given up all interest in my own affairs. In fact, I
+haven't got any. And I take the keenest interest in other
+people's--romances. Principally, of course, in yours.'
+
+'I'm sure I don't want you to be so vicarious as all that--thanks
+awfully,' said Hyacinth. 'At any rate, don't dress like a skeleton at
+the feast tomorrow, if you don't mind. I've asked the little Ottleys to
+dinner--and, I want Charles to come.'
+
+'Oh, of course, if you expect Cecil Reeve!--I suppose you do, as you
+haven't mentioned it--I'll put on my real clothes to do you credit.' She
+looked out of the window. 'Here's poor old Charles again. How he does
+dislike Lady Cannon!'
+
+'What a shame, Anne! He's angelic to her.'
+
+'That's what I meant,' said Anne, going out quickly.
+
+'Charles, how nice of you to call and return your own visit the same
+day! It's like Royalty, isn't it? It reminds me of the young man who was
+asked to call again, and came back in half an hour,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'I didn't quite see my way to waiting till Monday,' he answered. 'We're
+going away the end of the week. Janet says she needs a change.'
+
+'It would be more of a change if you remained in town alone; at least,
+without Aunty.'
+
+From the age of ten Hyacinth had resented having to call Lady Cannon by
+this endearing name. How a perfect stranger, by marrying her cousin,
+could become her aunt, was a mystery that she refused even to try to
+solve. It was well meant, no doubt; it was supposed to make her feel
+more at home--less of an orphan. But though she was obedient on this
+point, nothing would ever induce her to call her cousin by anything but
+his Christian name, with no qualification. Instinctively she felt that
+to call them 'Charles and Aunty', while annoying the intruder, kept her
+guardian in his proper place. What that was she did not specify.
+
+'Well, can't you stay in London and come here, and be confided in and
+consulted? You know you like that better than boring yourself to death
+at Redlands.'
+
+'Never mind that. How did you enjoy your drive?'
+
+'Immensely, and I've asked both the little Ottleys to come to dinner
+tomorrow--one of those impulsive, unconsidered invitations that one
+regrets the second after. I must make up a little party. Will you come?'
+
+'Perhaps, if I arranged to follow Janet to Redlands the next day, I
+might. Who did you say was the other man?'
+
+'I expect Cecil Reeve,' she said. 'Don't put on that air of marble
+archness, Charles. It doesn't suit you at all. Tell me something
+about him.'
+
+'I can't stand him. That's all I know about him,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'Oh, is that all? That's just jealousy, Charles.'
+
+'Absurd! How can a married man, in your father's place, a hundred years
+older than you, be jealous?'
+
+'It is wonderful, isn't it?' she said. 'But you must know something
+about him. You know everyone.'
+
+'He's Lord Selsey's nephew--and his heir--if Selsey doesn't marry again.
+He's only a young man about town--the sort of good-looking ass that your
+sex admires.'
+
+'Charles, what a brute you are! He's very clever.'
+
+'My dear child, yes--as a matter of fact, I believe he is. Isn't he ever
+going to _do_ something?'
+
+'I don't know,' she said. 'I wish he would. Oh, _why_ don't you like
+him?'
+
+'What can it matter about me?' he answered. 'Why are you never satisfied
+unless I'm in love with the same people that you are?'
+
+'Charles!' she exclaimed, standing up. 'Don't you understand that not a
+word, not a look has passed to suggest such a thing? I never met
+anyone so--'
+
+'So cautious?'
+
+'No, so listless, and so respectful; and yet so amusing.... But I'm
+pretty certain that he hates me. I wish I knew why.'
+
+'And you hate him just as much, of course?'
+
+'No, sometimes I don't. And then I want you to agree with me. No-one
+sympathises really so well as you, Charles.'
+
+'Not even Miss Yeo?'
+
+'No, I get on so well with Anne because she doesn't She's always
+interested, but I prefer her never to agree with me, as she lives here.
+It would be enervating to have someone always there and perpetually
+sympathetic. Anne is a tonic.'
+
+'You need a little opposition to keep you up,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'Didn't I once hear something about his being devoted to someone? Wasn't
+there a report that he was going to be married to a Mrs. Raymond?'
+
+'I believe it was once contradicted in the _Morning Post_ that he was
+engaged to her,' said Sir Charles. 'But I'm sure there's no truth in it.
+I know her.'
+
+'No truth in the report? Or the contradiction?'
+
+'In either. In anything.'
+
+'So you know her. What's she like?' Hyacinth asked anxiously.
+
+'Oh, a dear, charming creature--you'd like her; but not pretty, nor
+young. About my age,' he said.
+
+'Oh, I see! _That's_ all right, then!' She clapped her hands.
+
+'Well, I must go. I'll arrange to turn up to dinner tomorrow.' He took
+his hat, looking rather depressed.
+
+'And try to make him like me!' she commanded, as Sir Charles took leave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+The Sound Sense of Lady Cannon
+
+
+Lady Cannon had never been seen after half-past seven except in evening
+dress, generally a velvet dress of some dark crimson or bottle-green, so
+tightly-fitting as to give her an appearance of being rather upholstered
+than clothed. Her cloaks were always like well-hung curtains, her trains
+like heavy carpets; one might fancy that she got her gowns from Gillows.
+Her pearl dog-collar, her diamond ear-rings, her dark red fringe and the
+other details of her toilette were put on with the same precision when
+she dined alone with Sir Charles as if she were going to a ceremonious
+reception. She was a very tall, fine-looking woman. In Paris, where she
+sometimes went to see Ella at school, she attracted much public
+attention as _une femme superbe_. Frenchmen were heard to remark to one
+another that her husband _ne devrait pas s'embêter_ (which, as a matter
+of fact, was precisely what he did--to extinction); and even in the
+streets when she walked out the gamins used to exclaim, '_Voilà l'Arc de
+Triomphe qui se promène!_'--to her intense fury and gratification. She
+was still handsome, with hard, wide-open blue eyes, and straight
+features. She always held her head as if she were being photographed in
+a tiara _en profil perdu_. It was in this attitude that she had often
+been photographed and was now most usually seen; and it seemed so
+characteristic that even her husband, if he accidentally caught a
+glimpse of her full-face, hastily altered his position to one whence he
+could behold her at right angles.
+
+As she grew older, the profile in the photographs had become more and
+more _perdu_; the last one showed chiefly the back of her head, besides
+a basket of flowers, and a double staircase, leading (one hoped) at
+least to one of the upper rooms in Buckingham Palace.
+
+Lady Cannon had a very exalted opinion of her own charms, virtues,
+brilliant gifts, and, above all, of her sound sense. Fortunately for
+her, she had married a man of extraordinary amiability, who had always
+taken every possible precaution to prevent her discovering that in this
+opinion she was practically alone in the world.
+
+Having become engaged to her through a slight misunderstanding in a
+country house, Sir Charles had not had the courage to explain away the
+mistake. He decided to make the best of it, and did so the more easily
+as it was one of those so-called suitable matches that the friends and
+acquaintances of both parties approve of and desire far more than the
+parties concerned. A sensible woman was surely required at Redlands and
+in the London house, especially as Sir Charles had been left guardian
+and trustee to a pretty little heiress.
+
+It had taken him a very short time to find out that the reputation for
+sound sense was, like most traditions, founded on a myth, and that if
+his wife's vanity was only equalled by her egotism, her most remarkable
+characteristic was her excessive silliness. But she loved him, and he
+kept his discovery to himself.
+
+'Twenty-five minutes to eight!' she exclaimed, holding out a little
+jewelled watch, as Sir Charles came in after his visit to Hyacinth. 'And
+we have a new cook, and I specially, _most_ specially told her to have
+dinner ready punctually at half-past seven! This world is indeed a place
+of trial!'
+
+Sir Charles's natural air of command seemed to disappear in the presence
+of Lady Cannon. He murmured a graceful apology, saying he would not
+dress. Nothing annoyed, even shocked her more than to see her husband
+dining opposite her in a frock-coat. However, of two evils she chose the
+less. They went in to dinner.
+
+'I haven't had the opportunity yet of telling you my opinion of the play
+this afternoon,' she said. 'I found it interesting, and I wonder I
+hadn't seen it before.'
+
+'You sent back our stalls for the first night,' remarked Sir Charles.
+
+'Certainly I did. I dislike seeing a play until I have seen in the
+papers whether it is a success or not.'
+
+'Those newspaper fellows aren't always right,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'Perhaps not, but at least they can tell you whether the thing is a
+success. I should be very sorry to be seen at a failure. Very
+sorry indeed.'
+
+She paused, and then went on--
+
+'_James Wade's Trouble_ has been performed three hundred times, so it
+must be clever. In my opinion, it must have done an immense amount of
+harm--good, I mean. A play like that, so full of noble sentiments and
+high principles, is--to me--as good as a sermon!'
+
+'Oh, is it? I'm sorry I couldn't go,' said Sir Charles, feeling very
+glad.
+
+'I suppose it was the club, as usual, that made you late. Do you know, I
+have a great objection to clubs.'
+
+He nodded sympathetically.
+
+'That is to say, I thoroughly approve of your belonging to several. I'm
+quite aware that in your position it's the right thing to do, but I
+can't understand why you should ever go to them, having two houses of
+your own. And that reminds me, we are going down to Redlands tomorrow,
+are we not? I've had a little' (she lowered her voice) 'lumbago; a mere
+passing touch, that's all--and the change will cure me. I think you
+neglect Redlands, Charles. You seem to me to regard your
+responsibilities as a landowner with indifference bordering on aversion.
+You never seem amused down there--unless we have friends.'
+
+'We'll go tomorrow if you like,' said he.
+
+'That's satisfactory.'
+
+'I can easily put off the Duke,' he said thoughtfully, as he poured out
+more wine.
+
+She sprang up like a startled hare.
+
+'Put off the ... what are you talking about?'
+
+'Oh, nothing. The Duke of St Leonard's is giving a dinner at the club
+tomorrow, and I was going. But I can arrange to get out of it.'
+
+'Charles! I never heard of anything so absurd! You must certainly go to
+the dinner. How like you! How casual of you! For a mere trifle to offend
+the man who might be of the greatest use to you--politically.'
+
+'Politically! What do you mean? And it isn't a trifle when you've set
+your mind on going away tomorrow. I know you hate to change your
+plans, my dear.'
+
+'Certainly I do, but I shall not change my plans. I shall go down
+tomorrow, and you can join me on Friday.'
+
+'Oh, I don't think I'll do that,' said Sir Charles, rather
+half-heartedly. 'Why should you take the journey alone?'
+
+'But I shall not be alone. I shall have Danvers with me. You need have
+no anxiety. I beg of you, I _insist_, that you stay, and go to
+this dinner.'
+
+'Well, of course, if you make a point of it--'
+
+She smiled, well pleased at having got her own way, as she supposed.
+
+'That's right, Charles. Then you'll come down on Friday.'
+
+'By the early train,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'No, I should suggest your coming by the later train. It's more
+convenient to meet you at the station.'
+
+'Very well--as you like,' said he, inwardly a little astonished, as
+always, at the easy working of the simple old plan, suggesting what one
+does not wish to do in order to be persuaded into what one does.
+
+'And, by the way, I haven't heard you speak of Hyacinth lately. You had
+better go and see her. A little while ago you were always wasting your
+time about her, and I spoke to you about it, Charles--I think?'
+
+'I think you did,' said he.
+
+'But, though at one time I was growing simply tired of her name, I
+didn't mean that you need not look after her at _all_. Go and see her,
+and explain to her I can't possibly accompany you. Tell her I've got
+chronic lumbago very badly indeed, and I'm obliged to go to the country,
+but I shall certainly make a point of calling on her when I return. You
+won't forget, Charles?'
+
+'Certainly not.'
+
+'I should go oftener,' she continued apologetically, 'but I have such a
+great dislike to that companion of hers. I think Miss Yeo a most
+unpleasant person.'
+
+'She isn't really,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'I do wish we could get Hyacinth married,' said Lady Cannon. 'I know
+what a relief it would be to you, and it seems to me such an unheard-of
+thing for a young girl like that to be living practically alone!'
+
+'We've been through that before, Janet. Remember, there was nothing else
+to do unless she continued to live with us. And as your nerves can't
+even stand Ella--'
+
+Lady Cannon dropped the point.
+
+'Well, we must get her married,' she said again. 'What a good thing Ella
+is still so young! Girls are a dreadful responsibility,' and she swept
+graciously from the dining-room.
+
+Sir Charles took out an irritating little notebook of red leather, the
+sort of thing that is advertised when lost as 'of no value to anyone but
+the owner.' It was full of mysterious little marks and unintelligible
+little notes. He put down, in cabalistic signs, '_Hyacinth's dinner,
+eight o'clock._' He enjoyed writing her name, even in hieroglyphics.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+A Proposal
+
+
+'I say, Eugenia.'
+
+'Well, Cecil?'
+
+'Look here, Eugenia.'
+
+'What is it, Cecil?'
+
+'Will you marry me?'
+
+'I beg your pardon?'
+
+'Will you many me, Eugenia?'
+
+'_What_?'
+
+'You heard what I said. I asked you to marry me. Will you?'
+
+'_Certainly_ not! Most decidedly not! How can you ask such a ridiculous
+question!'
+
+The lady who thus scornfully rejected a proposal was no longer young,
+and had never been beautiful. In what exactly her attraction consisted
+was perhaps a mystery to many of those who found themselves under the
+charm. Her voice and smile were very agreeable, and she had a graceful
+figure. If she looked nearly ten years younger than her age (which was
+forty-four), this was in no way owing to any artificial aid, but to a
+kind of brilliant vitality, not a bouncing mature liveliness, but a
+vivid, intense, humorous interest in life that was and would always
+remain absolutely fresh. She was naturalness itself, and seemed
+unconscious or careless of her appearance. Nor did she have that
+well-preserved air of so many modern women who seem younger than their
+years, but seemed merely clever, amiable, very unaffected, and rather
+ill. She had long, veiled-looking brown eyes, turned up at the corners,
+which gave to her glance an amusing slyness. It was a very misleading
+physiognomical effect, for she was really unusually frank. She wore a
+dull grey dress that was neither artistic, becoming, nor smart. In fact,
+she was too charming to be dowdy, and too careless to be chic; she might
+have been a great celebrity.
+
+The young man who made the suggestion above recorded was fair and
+clean-shaven, tall and well-made, with clear-cut feature; in fact, he
+was very good-looking--good-looking as almost only an Englishman can be.
+Under a reserved, dandified manner, he tried unsuccessfully to conceal
+the fact that he was too intelligent for his type. He did not, however,
+quite attain his standard of entire expressionlessness; and his bright,
+light-blue eyes and fully-curved lips showed the generous and emotional
+nature of their owner. At this moment he seemed very much out of temper.
+
+They were sitting in a dismal little drawing-room in one of the smallest
+houses in a dreary street in Belgravia. The room was crowded with
+dateless, unmeaning furniture, and disfigured by muddled, mistaken
+decoration. Its designer, probably, had meant well, but had been very
+far from carrying out his meaning. There were too many things in the
+room, and most of them were wrong. It would be unjust, however, to
+suppose Mrs Raymond did not know this. Want of means, and indifference,
+or perhaps perverseness, had caused her to leave the house unchanged
+since his death as a sort of monument to poor Colonel Raymond's
+erring taste.
+
+'You might just as well marry me as not,' said Cecil, in his level
+voice, but with pleading eyes. He made the gesture of trying to take her
+hand, but she took hers away.
+
+'You are very pressing, Cecil, but I think not. You know perfectly
+well--I'm sure I make no secret of it--that I'm ten years older than
+you. Old enough to be your mother! Am I the sort of person who would
+take advantage of the fancy of a gilded youth? And, now I come to think
+of it, your proposal's quite insulting. It's treating me like an
+adventuress! It's implying that you think I _would_ marry you!
+Apologise, and withdraw it at once, or I'll never speak to you again.'
+
+'This is nonsense. To begin with,' said Cecil, 'I may be a little
+gilded--not so very--but I'm far from being a youth. I'm thirty-four.'
+
+'Yes, I know! That's just the absurd part,' she answered inconsequently.
+'It's not as if you were a mere boy and didn't know better! And you know
+how I _hate_ this sort of thing.'
+
+'I know you do, and very likely I wouldn't have worried about marrying
+at all if you had been nicer to me--in other ways. You see, you brought
+it on yourself!'
+
+'What _do_ you mean? I _am_ nice. Don't you come here whenever you
+like--or nearly? Didn't I dine with you once--a year or two ago? I
+forget, but I think I did.'
+
+'You never did,' he answered sharply.
+
+'Then it must have been with somebody else. Of course I didn't. I
+shouldn't dream of such a thing.'
+
+'Someone else! Yes, of course; that's it. Well, I want you to marry me,
+Eugenia, because I want to get you away from everyone else. You see
+my point?'
+
+She laughed. 'Oh, jealousy! That's the last straw. Do you know that
+you're a nuisance, Cecil?'
+
+'Because I love you?' he said, trying to look into her sly Japanese
+eyes.
+
+She avoided his glance.
+
+'Because you keep on bothering. Always writing, always telephoning,
+always calling! As soon as I've disposed of _one_ invitation or excuse
+to meet, you invent another. But this last idea is quite too
+exasperating.' She spoke more gently. 'Don't you know, Cecil, that I've
+been a widow for years? Would I be so ridiculous as to marry again? Why,
+the one thing I can't stand is being interfered with! I prefer, far
+prefer, being poor and alone to that. Now what I want you to do is to
+marry someone else. I have an idea who I should like it to be, but I
+won't talk about it now. It's the most charming girl in the world. I
+shan't tell you her name, that would be tactless. It's that lovely Miss
+Verney, of course. She's much too good for you--an heiress, a beauty,
+and an orphan! But she's wonderful; and she really deserves you.'
+
+He stopped her.
+
+'How heartless you are!' he said admiringly.
+
+'Really not, Cecil. I'm very fond of you. I'd be your best friend if
+you'd let me, but I shan't speak to you again or receive you at all
+unless you promise not to repeat that nonsense about marrying. I know
+how horridly obstinate you are! Please remember it's out of the
+question.'
+
+At this moment the servant brought in a letter to Mrs Raymond. As she
+read it, Cecil thought she changed colour.
+
+'It's only a line from Sir Charles Cannon,' she said.
+
+'What's he writing about?'
+
+'Really, Cecil! What right have you to ask? I certainly shan't say. It's
+about his ward, if you must know. And now I think you'd better go, if
+you will make these violent scenes.'
+
+He stood up.
+
+'You must let me come soon again,' he said rather dejectedly. 'I'll try
+not to come tomorrow. Shall I?'
+
+'Yes, do try--not to come, I mean. And will you do everything I tell
+you?'
+
+'I suppose it will please you if I dine with Hyacinth Verney this
+evening? She asked me yesterday. I said I was half-engaged, but would
+let her know.'
+
+'Yes, it _would_ please me very much indeed,' said Mrs Raymond. 'Please
+do it, and try to know her better. She's sweet. I don't know her, but--'
+
+'All right. If you'll be nice to me. Will you?'
+
+She was reading the letter again, and did not answer when he said
+good-bye and left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+The Little Ottleys
+
+
+'Edith, I want you to look nice tonight, dear; what are you going to
+wear?'
+
+'My Other Dress,' said Edith.
+
+'Is it all right?'
+
+'It ought to be. Would you like to know what I've done to it? I've cut
+the point into a square, and taken four yards out of the skirt; the
+chiffon off my wedding-dress has been made into kimono sleeves; then I'm
+going to wear my wedding-veil as a sort of scarf thrown carelessly over
+the shoulders; and I've turned the pointed waist-band round, so that
+it's quite _right_ and short-waisted at the back now, and--'
+
+'Oh, don't tell me the horrible details! I think you might take a little
+interest in _me_. I thought of wearing a buttonhole. Though you may have
+forgotten it now, before I was a dull old married man, I was supposed to
+dress rather well, Edith.'
+
+'I know you were.'
+
+'I thought I'd wear a white carnation.'
+
+'I should wear two--one each side. It would be more striking.'
+
+'That's right! Make fun of me! I hope you'll be ready in time. They dine
+at eight, you know.'
+
+'Bruce, you're not going to begin to dress yet, are you? It's only just
+four.'
+
+He pretended not to hear, and said peevishly--
+
+'I suppose they don't expect _us_ to ask _them_? I daresay it's well
+known we can't return all the hospitality we receive.'
+
+'I daresay it is.'
+
+'It's awful not having a valet,' said Bruce.
+
+'But it would be more awful if we had,' said Edith. 'Where on earth
+could we put him--except in the bathroom?'
+
+'I don't think you'll look you're best tonight,' he answered rather
+revengefully.
+
+'Give me a chancel Wait till I've waved my hair!'
+
+He read the paper for a little while, occasionally reading aloud
+portions of it that she had already read, then complained that she took
+no interest in public events.
+
+'What do you think Archie brought home today,' she said to change the
+subject, 'in his Noah's Ark? Two snails!' She laughed.
+
+'Revolting! _I_ don't know where he gets his tastes from. Not from _my_
+family, that I'm quite sure.' He yawned ostentatiously.
+
+'I think I shall have a rest,' Bruce said presently. 'I had a very bad
+night last night. I scarcely slept at all.'
+
+'Poor boy!' Edith said kindly. She was accustomed to the convention of
+Bruce's insomnia, and it would never have occurred to her to appear
+surprised when he said he hadn't closed his eyes, though she happened to
+know there was no cause for anxiety. If he woke up ten minutes before he
+was called, he thought he had been awake all night; if he didn't he saw
+symptoms of the sleeping sickness.
+
+She arranged cushions on the sofa and pulled the blinds down. A minute
+later he turned on the electric light and began to read again. Then he
+turned it out, pulled up the blinds, and called her back.
+
+'I want to speak to you about my friend Raggett,' he said seriously.
+'I've asked him to dinner here tomorrow. What shall we have?'
+
+'Oh, Bruce! Let's wait and settle tomorrow.'
+
+'You don't know Raggett, but I think you'll like him. I _think_ you
+will. In any case, there's no doubt Raggett's been remarkably decent to
+me. In fact, he's a very good sort.'
+
+'Fancy!' said Edith.
+
+'Why do you say fancy?' he asked irritably.
+
+'I don't exactly know. I must say something. I'm sure he's nice if he's
+a friend of yours, dear.'
+
+'He's a clever chap in his way. At least, when I say clever, I don't
+mean clever in the ordinary sense.'
+
+'Oh, I see,' said Edith.
+
+'He's very amusing,' continued Bruce. 'He said a very funny thing to me
+the other day. Very funny indeed. It's no use repeating it, because
+unless you knew all the circumstances and the _characters_ of the people
+that he told the story of, you wouldn't see the point. Perhaps, after
+all, I'd better ask him to dine at the club.'
+
+'Oh no! Let him come here. Don't you think I'm worthy to see Raggett?'
+
+'Oh nonsense, dear, I'm very proud of you,' said Bruce kindly. 'It isn't
+exactly that.... Mind you, Raggett's quite a man of the world--and yet
+he _isn't_ a man of the world, if you know what I mean.'
+
+'I see,' said Edith again.
+
+'I can't decide whether to ask him here or not,' said Bruce, walking up
+and down the room in agitation.
+
+'Well, suppose we leave it till tomorrow. You can make up your mind
+then,' she said good-naturedly.
+
+Edith was dressed, when she found Bruce still in the throes of an
+agitated toilet. Having lost his collar-stud, he sat down and gave
+himself up to cold despair.
+
+'You go without me,' he said in a resigned voice. 'Explain the
+reason--no, don't explain it. Say I've got influenza--but then perhaps
+they'll think you ought to look after me, and--'
+
+'Here it is!' said Edith.
+
+
+In the cab he recovered suddenly, and told her she looked awfully
+pretty, which cheered her very much. She was feeling rather tired. She
+had spent several hours in the nursery that day, pretending to be a baby
+giraffe with so much success that Archie had insisted upon countless
+encores, until, like all artists who have to repeat the same part too
+often, she felt the performance was becoming mechanical.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Hyacinth's Little Dinner
+
+
+'The little Ottleys,' as they were called (they were a tall,
+fine-looking couple), found themselves in a small circle of people who
+were all most pleasing to the eye, with the single exception of Miss
+Yeo. And even she, in a markedly elegant dress of a peculiarly vicious
+shade of green, had her value in the picture. A little shocked by the
+harshness of the colour, one's glance turned with relief to Hyacinth, in
+satin of a blue so pale that it looked like the reflection of the sky in
+water. A broad, pale blue ribbon was wound in and out of her brown hair
+in the Romney fashion. Of course she looked her best. Women always do if
+they wish to please one man when others are there, and she was in the
+slightly exalted frame of mind that her reflection in the mirror had
+naturally given her.
+
+The faint atmosphere of chaperonage that always hung about Sir Charles
+in Hyacinth's house did not interfere with his personal air of enjoying
+an escapade, nor with his looking distinguished to the very verge of
+absurdity. As to Cecil, the reaction from his disappointment of the
+afternoon had made him look more vivid than usual. He was flushed
+with failure.
+
+He talked rather irresponsibly, and looked at Hyacinth, his neighbour at
+dinner, with such obvious appreciation, that her gaiety became
+infectious. In the little panelled dining-room which, like all the
+house, was neither commonplace nor bizarre, but simple and
+distinguished, floated an atmosphere of delightful ease and intimacy.
+
+Sir Charles admired the red roses, which Anne declared she had bought
+for two-and-threepence.
+
+'Very ingenious,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'I _am_ ingenious and clever,' said Anne. 'I get my cleverness from my
+father, and my economy from my mother. My father's a clergyman, but his
+wife was a little country girl--a sort of Merry Peasant; like Schumann's
+piece, you know. Peasants are always merry.'
+
+'I fancy that's a myth,' said Cecil. 'If not, I've been singularly
+unfortunate, for all the peasants _I_ ever ran across seemed most
+depressed.'
+
+'Of course, if you ran over them!' said Hyacinth.
+
+'But I didn't exactly run over them; I only asked them the way to
+somewhere. They _were_ angry! Now I come to think of it, though, they
+weren't peasants at all. It was only one man. He was a shepherd. I got
+to know him better afterwards, and he was rather a good chap. Shepherds
+don't have a bad time; they just wear ribbons and crooks and dance with
+shepherdesses, you know.'
+
+'Oh, then _can_ you tell me why a red sky at night is a shepherd's
+delight?' asked Hyacinth. 'Is it because it's a sign of rain, and he
+needn't look after the sheep, but can go fast asleep like little
+Bo-peep--or was it little Boy Blue--if he likes?'
+
+'For you, I'll try to find out; but I'm ashamed to say I know very
+little of natural history--or machinery, or lots of other interesting
+things. And, what's far worse, I don't even want to know any more. I
+like to think there are some mysteries left in life.'
+
+'I quite agree with you that it would be rather horrid to know exactly
+how electricity works, and how trains go, and all that sort of thing. I
+like some things just to _happen_. I never broke my dolls to see what
+they were made of. I had them taken away the _moment_ any sawdust began
+to come out,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'You were perfectly right, Miss Verney. You're an Idealist; at least,
+you don't like practical details. But still you take a great interest in
+other people psychologically. You want to know, I'm sure, just how a
+shepherd really feels, and why he feels it. I don't even care for that,
+and I'm not very keen on scenery, or places either, or even things. My
+Uncle Ted's so frightfully fond of Things. He's a collector, you know,
+and I don't sympathise a bit. In fact, I hate things.'
+
+'You seem rather difficult to please, Mr Reeve. What do you like?'
+
+'People; at least, some people. Don't you?'
+
+'Do you like people who talk nonsense?'
+
+'Yes, and still more people who listen to it charmingly,' he answered.
+'I didn't know before tonight that you ever listened to nonsense or
+talked it. I always thought you were the person who solves all the Hard
+Cases in _Vanity Fair_--under different names.'
+
+'I wonder you didn't think I won all the prizes in the Limericks,' said
+Hyacinth.
+
+'I have my faults, Miss Verney, but I'm not blasphemous. Will you have
+an olive?'
+
+She accepted it. He lowered his voice to say--
+
+'How wonderful you're looking tonight!'
+
+'What am I to say to that? I don't think people should make unanswerable
+remarks at dinner,' she said, trying to look reproving, but turning pink
+with pleasure.
+
+'If people will look adorable at dinner--or anywhere--they must take the
+consequences,' said Cecil, under cover of a very animated discussion
+between Bruce and Miss Yeo on sixpenny cab-fares.
+
+Then for a second he felt a remorseful twinge of disloyalty. But that
+was nonsense; wasn't he obeying Mrs Raymond's distinct commands? Nothing
+would please her so much....
+
+And to flirt with Hyacinth was not at all a disagreeable task. He
+reflected that Eugenia might have asked him to do something a good
+deal harder.
+
+Under the combined influence, then, of duty, pique, and a little
+champagne, he gave way to the curious fascination that Hyacinth had
+always had for him, and she was only too ready to be happy.
+
+He remembered how he had first met her. He had been dragged to the
+Burlingtons' dance--he loathed all large parties--and, looking drearily
+round, he'd been struck by, and asked to be introduced to, Miss Verney.
+She wasn't Eugenia, of course, and could never, he was sure, be part of
+his life. He thought that Eugenia appealed to his better nature and to
+his intellect.
+
+He felt even a little ashamed of the purely sensuous attraction Hyacinth
+possessed for him, while he was secretly very proud of being in love
+with Mrs Raymond. Not everyone would appreciate Eugenia! Cecil was still
+young enough to wish to be different from other people, while desiring
+still more, like all Englishmen, to _appear_ as much as possible like
+everybody else.
+
+He did not thoroughly understand Hyacinth; he couldn't quite place her.
+She was certainly not the colourless _jeune fille_ idealised by the
+French, but she had even less of the hard abruptness of the ordinary
+young unmarried Englishwoman. She called herself a bachelor girl, but
+hadn't the touch of the Bohemian that phrase usually seems to imply. She
+was too plastic, too finished. He admired her social dexterity, her
+perfect harmony with the charming background she had so well arranged
+for herself. Yet, he thought, for such a young girl, only twenty-two,
+she was too complex, too civilised. Mrs Raymond, for instance, seemed
+much more downright and careless. He was growing somewhat bewildered
+between his analysis of her character and his admiration for her mouth,
+an admiration that was rather difficult to keep entirely cool and
+theoretical, and that he felt a strong inclination to show in some more
+practical manner.... With a sigh he turned to Edith Ottley, his other
+neighbour.
+
+
+As soon as Anne had locked up she removed with the greatest care her
+emerald dress, which she grudged wearing a second longer than was
+necessary, and put on an extraordinary dressing-gown, of which it was
+hardly too much to say that there was probably not another one exactly
+like it in Europe. Hyacinth always said it had been made out of an old
+curtain from the Rev Mr Yeo's library in the Devonshire Rectory, and
+Anne did not deny it.
+
+She then screwed up her hair into a tight knot, put one small piece of
+it into a curling pin, which she then pinned far back on her head (as if
+afraid that the effect on the forehead would be too becoming), took off
+her dainty green shoes, put on an enormous pair of grotesque slippers,
+carpet slippers (also a relic), and went into Hyacinth's room. Anne made
+it a rule every evening to go in for a few minutes to see Hyacinth and
+talk against everyone they had seen during the day. She seemed to regard
+it as a sacred duty, almost like saying her prayers. Hyacinth sometimes
+professed to find this custom a nuisance, but she would certainly have
+missed it. Tonight she was smiling happily to herself, and took no
+notice of Anne's entrance.
+
+'I suppose you think it went off well,' said Anne aggressively.
+
+'Didn't it?'
+
+'I thought the dinner was ridiculous. A young girl like you asking two
+or three friends needn't have a banquet fit for a Colonial Conference.
+Besides, the cook lost her head. She sent up the same dish twice.'
+
+'Did she? How funny! How was that?'
+
+'Of course, _you_ wouldn't know. She and the kitchenmaid were playing
+Diabolo till the last minute in the housekeeper's room. However, you
+needn't worry; nobody noticed it.'
+
+'That's all right. Didn't Edith look pretty?'
+
+Anne poked the fire spitefully.
+
+'Like the outside of a cheap chocolate-box.'
+
+'Oh, Anne, what nonsense! Bruce seemed irritable, and fatuous. I didn't
+envy Edith going back with him.'
+
+'Bruce was jealous of Cecil Reeve, of course. You hardly looked at
+anybody else.'
+
+'Anne, really tonight there were one or two little things that made me
+think he is beginning to like me. I don't say he's perfect; I daresay he
+has his faults. But there's something I like about his face. I wonder
+what it is.'
+
+'I know what it is, he's very good-looking,' said Anne.
+
+'Do you think he cares for me?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Oh, Anne!'
+
+'I think, perhaps, he will, in time--in a way.'
+
+'Do you think if I were very careful not to show I liked him it would be
+better?'
+
+'No, there's only one chance for you.'
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'Keep on hammering.'
+
+'_Indeed_ I shan't! I never heard of such a thing. I suppose you think
+there's somebody else?' said Hyacinth, sitting up angrily.
+
+'Oh, I daresay he's just finishing off with someone or other, and you
+may catch him on the rebound.'
+
+'What horrid things you say!'
+
+'I only say what I think,' said Anne. 'Anyhow, you had a success
+tonight, I could see, because poor Charles seemed so depressed. Why do
+you have all these electric lights burning when one lamp would
+be enough?'
+
+'Oh, go away, Anne, and don't bother,' said Hyacinth, laughing.
+
+
+On his return home, Cecil suddenly felt a violent reaction in favour of
+Mrs Raymond. Certainly he had enjoyed his evening with Hyacinth, but it
+was very bitter to him to think what pleasure that enjoyment would have
+given to Eugenia.... He began to think he couldn't live without her.
+Something must be done. Further efforts must be made. The idea struck
+him that he would go and see his uncle, Lord Selsey, about it. He knew
+Uncle Ted was really fond of him, and wouldn't like to see his life
+ruined (so he put it to himself), and his heart broken, though he also
+probably would disapprove from the worldly point of view. Decidedly
+unhappy, yet to a certain extent enjoying his misery, Cecil went
+to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Lord Selsey
+
+
+The mere thought of confiding in Lord Selsey was at once soothing and
+bracing. He was a widower with no children, and Cecil was by way of
+being his heir. Since the death of his wife he lived in a kind of
+cultured retirement in a large old house standing a little by itself in
+Cambridge Gate. He used to declare that this situation combined all the
+advantages of London and the country, also that the Park that was good
+enough for the Regent was good enough for him. He had a decided cult for
+George IV; and there was even more than a hint of Beau Brummel in his
+dress. The only ugly thing in the house was a large coloured print of
+the pavilion at Brighton.
+
+
+In many ways Lord Selsey was Cecil's model; and unconsciously, in his
+uncle's suave presence, the young man's manner always became more
+expressive and his face more inscrutable.
+
+Lord Selsey was remarkably handsome; the even profile, well-shaped head,
+and blond colouring were much the same in uncle and nephew, the uncle's
+face having, perhaps, a more idealistic cast. The twenty years'
+difference in age had only given the elder man a finer, fairer, more
+faded look, and the smooth light hair, still thick, was growing grey.
+
+
+Cecil was not surprised to find his uncle sitting in his smoking-room,
+smoking, and not reading the morning paper. He was looking over his
+collection of old coins. At a glance he saw by Cecil's excessive
+quietness that the boy, as he called him, was perturbed, so he talked
+about the coins for some minutes.
+
+Cecil made little attempt to conceal that fact that Things bored him.
+
+'Well, what is it?' said Lord Selsey abruptly.
+
+Cecil couldn't think of anything better by way of introducing the
+trouble than the vaguely pessimistic statement that everything was
+rather rotten.
+
+'You don't gamble, you're not even very hard up.... It's a woman, of
+course,' said Lord Selsey, 'and you want to marry, I suppose, or you
+wouldn't come to me about it.... Who is she?'
+
+Cecil gave a rough yet iridescent sketch of Mrs Raymond.
+
+'Of course she's older than I am, but it doesn't make the slightest
+difference. She's been a widow ever since she was twenty. She's very
+hard up, and she doesn't care. She's refused me, but I want to make her
+come round.... No, she isn't _pretty_, not very.'
+
+Lord Selsey put his old coins away, and leant back in his chair.
+
+'I should like to see her,' he said thoughtfully.
+
+'I'm sure of one thing, uncle you could never have any vulgar,
+commonplace ideas about her--I mean, she's so _peculiarly_
+disinterested, and all that sort of thing. You mustn't fancy she's a
+dangerous syren, don't you know, or.... For instance, she doesn't care
+much for dress; she just sticks up her hair anyhow, and parts it in
+the middle.'
+
+'Then it would certainly be difficult to believe anything against her,'
+said Lord Selsey.
+
+'Besides, she really wants me to marry someone else.'
+
+'Who?'
+
+'She's always trying to persuade me to propose to Hyacinth Verney ...
+you know, that pretty girl, old Cannon's ward.... She is awfully pretty,
+of course, I know.'
+
+'I should like to see her,' said Lord Selsey.
+
+Cecil smiled. It was well known that Lord Selsey was a collector. Though
+no-one could have less of the pompous, fatuous vanity of the Don Juan,
+beauty had always played, and always would play, a very prominent part
+in his life. It was, in fact, without exception, his greatest pleasure,
+and interest--even passion. The temperament that gave to beauty and
+charm a rather inordinate value had, no doubt, descended to his nephew.
+But Cecil was, in that as in everything else, much less of a dilettante.
+
+'You actually want me to advise you to persuade Mrs Raymond to marry
+you? My dear boy, how can I?'
+
+'How is it you don't say she's quite right not to?' asked Cecil
+curiously.
+
+'From her point of view I think she's quite wrong. As you're both
+practically free and you would marry her tomorrow--or this afternoon for
+choice--if she cared for you she would probably do it. Where I think
+she's wrong is in not caring for you.... Who is it?'
+
+'I don't believe it's anyone. Eugenia's peculiar; she's very
+independent, very fantastic. She likes to do whatever comes into her
+head. She's very fascinating ... but I shouldn't be at all surprised if
+she's absolutely cold; I mean, really never could care for any man
+at all.'
+
+'I _should_ like to see her,' repeated Lord Selsey, his eyes
+brightening.
+
+'It's most awfully good of you, Uncle, the way you take it. I mean to
+say, I'm afraid I'm not at all asking your consent, you know, or
+anything of that sort, as I ought.'
+
+'You're asking my advice, and it's about the only thing most men of my
+age enjoy giving. Well, really, Cecil, and frankly, I think it's a
+dismal little story. It would be humbug if I pretended I was sorry about
+Mrs Raymond's--a--attitude, and I quite see its absolute genuineness
+But, if you'll excuse my saying so, what price the other girl?'
+
+'What price? No price.'
+
+'_She_ likes you,' said Lord Selsey acutely.
+
+'What makes you think that?'
+
+'Because otherwise you wouldn't be so cool about her. You're a little
+too frightened of being obvious, Cecil. I was like that, too. But don't
+give way to it. Hyacinth Verney--what a charming name! ... What would
+old Cannon say?'
+
+'I don't think he seems particularly keen on _me_,' said Cecil frankly.
+
+'That's odd. Then he must be very ambitious for her, or else be in love
+with her himself ... probably both.'
+
+'Oh, I say, Uncle Ted! Why, there's Lady Cannon! She's a very handsome,
+gigantic woman, and they have a daughter of their own, a girl called
+Ella, at school in Paris. She's pretty, too, only a flapper, you know,
+with a fair plait and a black bow.'
+
+'I should like to see her; what delightful families you get yourself
+mixed up with, Cecil! If I were you I should certainly cultivate the
+Verney girl. I know it's no use telling you to do the contrary, as I
+should if you weren't in your present frame of mind.'
+
+'I should _very_ much like you to meet Eugenia,' said Cecil.
+
+'Yes. How shall we arrange it? A dinner at the Savoy or something?'
+
+'No. Somehow that isn't the kind of thing she'd like,' said Cecil.
+
+'I thought not. But if I suddenly go and call on her, even with you,
+wouldn't it make it too much of a family affair? And I should be so
+afraid of having the air of trying to persuade her to give you up. I
+don't want to make a fool of myself, you know.'
+
+Cecil seemed a little stung, though he smiled.
+
+'If she knew you, perhaps it would make her more interested in me!'
+
+'Do you think she'd come and hear some music here,' said Lord Selsey,
+'if I wrote and asked her?'
+
+'Yes, I think she might. There's no nonsense about her--about etiquette
+and things of that sort, I mean.'
+
+'Then that's settled. You tell her about it, and I'll write. On Thursday
+afternoon. The two young pianists, George Ranger and Nevil Butt, are
+coming, and the little girl, the new Russian singer.'
+
+'A juvenile party?' asked Cecil, laughing.
+
+'No, only two or three people.'
+
+'Two or three hundred, I suppose. Well, I'll get Mrs Raymond to come.
+Thanks so much.'
+
+They shook hands with more than cordiality. As Cecil went out his uncle
+said--
+
+'You've been most interesting this morning. But the other girl's the
+one, you know. Don't neglect her.'
+
+He laughed, for he saw the young man was rather flattered at the notion.
+Evidently, Mrs Raymond was worth knowing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+The Peculiarities of Raggett
+
+
+'Oh, Bruce,' said Edith, as she looked up from a Sale Catalogue, 'I _do_
+wish you would be an angel and let me have a little cash to go to Naylor
+and Rope's. There are some marvellous bargains--spring novelties--there,
+and Archie absolutely _needs_ one or two things.'
+
+Bruce frowned and sat down to breakfast, rather heavily.
+
+'I object,' he said as he took his coffee, 'on principle--purely on
+principle--to spring sales. Women buy a lot of things they don't want,
+and ruin their husbands under the ridiculous impression they're buying
+bargains.'
+
+'I won't ruin you, dear. I want to get Archie a coat--and a hat. I only
+want'--she watched his expression--' a sovereign--or two.' She smiled
+brightly, and passed him the toast.
+
+His manner softened.
+
+'Well, dear, you know I'm not a rich man, don't you?'
+
+'Yes, dear.'
+
+'But I should much prefer that you should get Archie's things at a
+first-rate place like Wears and Swells, where we have an account, and
+send me the bill. Will you do that?'
+
+'Of course I will, if you like; but it'll cost more.'
+
+She had often marvelled at a comparative lavishness about cheques that
+Bruce combined with a curious loathing to parting from any coin,
+however small.
+
+'Then that's settled. And now I want to speak to you about Raggett.'
+
+He paused, and then said seriously, 'I've absolutely decided and very
+nearly made up my mind to have Raggett to dinner tonight at the Savoy.'
+
+'The Savoy?'
+
+'Yes, yes; no doubt this little flat is very comfortable'--he looked
+round the room with marked disdain--'and cook, thanks to you, isn't half
+_bad_ ... but one can't give _dinners_ here! And after all I've said to
+Raggett--oh, one thing and another--I fancy I've given him the
+impression of a rather luxurious home. It won't matter if he calls here
+in the afternoon some day, but for a man like that, I'd rather--yes--the
+Savoy. You look as if you objected. Do you?'
+
+'Not at all. It'll be rather fun. But I'm so glad you can afford it. We
+haven't an _account_ there, you know.'
+
+'I propose to make a slight sacrifice for once.... I will engage a table
+and telephone to Raggett. Women never understand that to do things well,
+once in a way, is sometimes a--a very good thing,' he finished
+rather lamely.
+
+'All right. I _am_ getting curious to see Raggett!'
+
+'My dear Edith, he's nothing particular to _see_, but he's a man who
+might be--very useful.'
+
+'Oh, shall you take a private room?'
+
+'I don't think so. Why? You can wear what you wore last night.... You
+looked quite nice in it, and you can take it from me, once for all'--he
+got up, looked in the glass, and said--'that _Raggett's all right_. Now,
+tell cook we're dining out. She might have a holiday tonight. A change
+may do her good; and I shall hope to find the omelette less leathery
+tomorrow.'
+
+Edith did not point out that Bruce, after specially ordering breakfast
+punctually at nine, had come down at half-past ten.
+
+'And now I must go.... The dinner was charming last night. It was only
+spoilt by that empty-headed fool--what's his name--Reeve, who was
+obviously making up to Hyacinth. Anyone can see she only endures his
+attentions from politeness, of course. He knows nothing about anything.
+I found _that_ out when we were smoking after dinner; and one can't get
+a word out of old Cannon.'
+
+Edith was putting Bruce's writing-table in order when she found an open
+letter in the blotting-book, glanced at the signature, and saw that it
+was from Raggett. So she eagerly read it, hoping to get some further
+light on the mysterious man in whose honour Bruce was prepared to offer
+so extravagant a festivity.
+
+It was written on a rough sheet of paper, with no address. The
+handwriting was small, compressed, and very untidy. It ran.--
+
+'DEAR OTTLEY,
+
+'Y'rs to hand. I shall be glad to dine with you, as I have told you
+several times, and I would accept your invitation with pleasure if I
+knew when and where the dinner was to be. These two points you have
+always avoided mentioning.
+
+'Y'rs truly,
+
+J.R. RAGGETT'
+
+
+It struck Edith that it was quite extraordinary, after so many
+descriptions from Bruce--some vivid, some sketchy, others subtly
+suggestive--how little she could imagine Raggett.
+
+Notwithstanding quantities of words, nothing, somehow, had ever come out
+to throw the least glimmer of light either on his character,
+personality, or walk of life. Not bad, all right, useful, rather
+wonderful, but quite ordinary and nothing particular, were some of the
+phrases she recalled. She had never been told anything about his age,
+nor his appearance, nor how long Bruce had known him. She had only
+gathered that he wasn't athletic like Goldthorpe (Bruce's golf
+companion), and that he wasn't in the Foreign Office, and didn't belong
+to Bruce's club. Where, how, and when could he be useful?
+
+If she seemed bored when Bruce was enthusiastic about him, he was
+offended; but if she seemed interested and asked leading questions, he
+became touchy and cautious, almost jealous. Sometimes she had begun to
+think that Raggett was a Mrs Harris--that there was no such person.
+There, evidently, she had been wrong.
+
+
+At eight o'clock that evening, on arriving at the Savoy, Edith decided
+not to take off her cloak (on the ground of chilliness, but really
+because it was smarter and more becoming than her dress). Therefore she
+waited in the outer room while Bruce, who seemed greatly excited, and
+had given her various contradictory tips about how to behave to their
+guest, was taking off his coat. Several other people were waiting there.
+She saw herself in the glass--a pretty, fair, typically English-looking
+woman, with neatly-chiselled features, well-arranged _blond-cendré_
+hair, a tall, slight figure, and a very thin neck. She noticed, among
+the other people waiting, a shabby-looking man of about thirty-five, who
+looked so intensely uncomfortable that she pitied him. He had a vague,
+rough, drab beard, colourless hair, which was very thick in front and
+very thin at the back, quite indefinite features, an undecided
+expression, and the most extraordinary clothes she had ever seen. The
+shirt-front was soft, and was in large bulging pleats. He wore an
+abnormal-looking big black tie, and the rest of the costume suggested a
+conjurer who had arrived at a children's party in the country and had
+forgotten his dress-suit, and borrowed various portions of it from
+different people staying in the house, who were either taller or shorter
+than himself. The waistcoat ended too soon, and the coat began too late;
+the collar reminded one of Gladstone; while the buttonhole of orchids
+(placed, rather eccentrically, very low down on the coat) completed the
+general effect of political broadmindedness, combined with acute
+social anxiety.
+
+He looked several times at Edith with a furtive but undisguised
+admiration. Then Bruce appeared, held out his hand cordially, and said,
+'Ah, Raggett, here you are!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+A Musical Afternoon
+
+
+Lord Selsey often said he disapproved of the ordinary subdivisions of a
+house, and, especially as he lived alone, he did not see why one should
+breakfast in a breakfast-room, dine in a dining-room, draw in a
+drawing-room, and so on. Nevertheless, he had one special room for
+music. There was a little platform at the end of it, and no curtains or
+draperies of any kind to obscure or stifle sound. A frieze of Greek
+figures playing various instruments ran round the walls, which were
+perfectly plain so that nothing should distract the eye from the
+pleasures of the ear; but he was careful to avoid that look of a
+concert-room given by rows of chairs (suggesting restraint and reserved
+guinea seats), and the music-room was furnished with comfortable lounges
+and led into a hall containing small Empire sofas, in which not more
+than two persons could be seated. Therefore the audience at his
+entertainments often enjoyed themselves almost as much as the
+performers, which is rare.
+
+This afternoon there was the usual number of very tall women in large
+highly-decorated hats, smooth-haired young men in coats that went in at
+the waist, a very few serious amateurs with longish hair, whose
+appearance did not quite come up to the standard of the _Tailor and
+Cutter_, and a small number of wistful professional feminine artists in
+no collars and pince-nez--in fact, the average fashionable, artistic
+crowd. The two young geniuses, George Ranger and Nevil Butt, had just
+given their rather electrifying performance, one playing the
+compositions of the other, and then both singing Fauré together, and a
+small band of Green Bulgarians were now playing strenuously a symphony
+of Richard Strauss, when Cecil and Mrs Raymond appeared together. Lord
+Selsey received her as if she had been an old friend. When they shook
+hands they felt at once, after one glance at Cecil and then at each
+other, that they were more than friends--they were almost accomplices.
+
+By one of those fortunate social accidents that are always occurring in
+London, Lord Selsey had met Hyacinth and Anne Yeo at a party the day
+before, had been introduced to them, and invited them to hear Ranger and
+Butt. Hyacinth, aware she was to meet Mrs Raymond, wore her loveliest
+clothes and sweetest expression, though she could not keep out of her
+eyes a certain anxiety, especially when she saw that Cecil greeted her
+with a slight, cold embarrassment that was very different from his usual
+manner. He had not expected to meet Hyacinth, and resolved to avoid the
+introduction he knew she desired. But no man is a match for a woman in a
+detail of this sort. In the refreshment-room, where Cecil was pressing
+coffee on Mrs Raymond, Hyacinth walked in, accompanied by Anne, and
+stood not very far from him. He came up to her, as Hyacinth saw, at Mrs
+Raymond's instigation.
+
+'Can I get you anything, Miss Vemey? Some tea?'
+
+'Thanks, yes. Isn't that Mrs Raymond? I do wish you would introduce me
+to her.'
+
+Mrs Raymond came forward. Cecil murmured their names. They shook hands.
+Mrs Raymond looked at her with such impulsive admiration that she
+dropped a piece of cake. They spoke a few words about the music, and
+Cecil moved aside.
+
+Anne called him back, not wishing to see him spared anything.
+
+'You mustn't,' said Cecil, 'on any account miss the next thing. It is
+the wonderful new singer, don't you know--the little girl, Vera
+Schakoffsky.'
+
+'Oh, very well,' said Hyacinth. 'I'll go,' and she went on with Anne.
+But when they had returned to the music-room she said to Anne, 'I left
+my handkerchief,' and went back to the refreshment-room.
+
+A screen was by the door. Just before she had passed it she heard Mrs
+Raymond say--
+
+'What an angel! How can you not be at her feet? Go and talk to her at
+once, or I'll never speak to you again!'
+
+'I just shan't!' said Cecil doggedly. 'You make me simply ridiculous. If
+you won't be nice to me yourself, you needn't throw me at the head of
+other people.'
+
+Hyacinth turned back and went to the music-room again.
+
+Some time afterwards Cecil joined her, Mrs Raymond having apparently
+disappeared. The new tenor was singing an old song. Cecil sat down next
+to Hyacinth on a little Empire sofa.
+
+'Let me look at the programme,' he said. And as he took it from her he
+pressed her fingers. She snatched her hand angrily away.
+
+'Pray don't do that,' she said in a contemptuous tone. 'Even to obey Mrs
+Raymond, you needn't do violence to your feelings!'
+
+'Miss Verney! I beg your pardon! But what _do_ you mean?'
+
+'Surely you understand. And don't trouble to come and see me any more.'
+
+He looked at her. Her suave social dexterity had vanished. Her eyes were
+dark with purely human instinctive jealousy. They looked at each other a
+moment, then Lord Selsey came up and said--
+
+'I'm afraid my attempt at originality hasn't been quite a success. The
+concert's not as harmonious as I hoped. Come and have tea, Miss Verney.'
+
+
+Hyacinth did not speak a word to Anne on their way home, nor did she
+refer to the afternoon, nor answer any remark of Anne's on the subject
+till that evening, when Anne came into her room to complain of the
+electric light and make fun of Lord Selsey's guests. Then she found
+Hyacinth sobbing, and saying--
+
+'I shall get over it. I shall be all right tomorrow. I'm going to cut
+him out of my life!'
+
+'He'll soon cut in again,' said Anne.
+
+'Indeed he won't! I'm not going to be played with. Preferring an old
+Japanese who doesn't even _like_ him, and then making a fool of me!'
+
+'If she ran after him, and you begged him to stick to her, it would be
+the other way,' said Anne.
+
+'What do you mean? Hasn't he any real preference?'
+
+'Yes. He's attached to her, fond of her. She's utterly indifferent about
+him, so he's piqued. So he thinks that's being in love.'
+
+'Then why does he try to deceive me and flirt with me at all?'
+
+'He doesn't. You really attract him; you're suited to him physically and
+socially, perhaps mentally too. The suitability is so obvious that he
+doesn't like it. It's his feeling for you that he fights against, and
+especially because he sees you care for him.'
+
+'I was horrid enough to him today! I told him never to call here again.'
+
+'To show your indifference?'
+
+'I made him understand that I wanted no more of his silly flirtation,'
+said Hyacinth, still tearful.
+
+'If you _really_ made him think that, everything will be all right.'
+
+'Really, Anne, you're clever. I think I shall take your advice.'
+
+Anne gave a queer laugh.
+
+'I didn't know I'd given any, but I will. Whatever he does now, leave
+him alone!'
+
+'I should think so! Then why did you tell me the other day to keep on
+hammering?'
+
+'I was quite right the other day.'
+
+'Didn't I look nicer than Mrs Raymond?'
+
+'That's not the point. You talk as if you were rivals on the same
+platform. She's on a different plane. But he'll get tired in the end of
+her indifference and remember _you_,' added Anne sardonically.
+
+'Then he'll find I've forgotten _him_. Oh, why am I so unhappy?'
+
+'You're too emotional, but you'll be happy through that too. Please
+don't make your eyes red. There are other people in the world.
+Cecil Reeve--'
+
+'And yet there's something so fascinating about him. He's so unlike
+anybody else.'
+
+'Bosh!' said Anne. 'He's exactly like thousands of other young men. But
+it just happens you've taken a fancy to him; that's the only thing that
+makes him different.'
+
+'I hate him,' said Hyacinth. 'Do you dislike him, Anne?'
+
+'Dislike him?' said Anne, turning out one of the lights. 'No, indeed! I
+loathe him!'
+
+'But why?'
+
+Anne went to the door.
+
+'Because you're a fool about him,' she said somewhat cryptically.
+
+Hyacinth felt somewhat soothed, and resolved to think no more of Cecil
+Reeve. She then turned up the light again, took her writing materials,
+and wrote him three long letters, each of which she tore up. She then
+wrote once more, saying--
+
+'DEAR MR REEVE,
+
+'I shall be at home today at four. Do come round and see me.'
+
+
+She put it under her pillow, resolving to send it by a messenger the
+first thing in the morning, and went to sleep.
+
+But this letter, like the others, was never sent. By the morning light
+she marvelled at having written it, and threw it into the fire.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+The Troubles of the Ottleys
+
+
+'Bruce', said Edith, 'you won't forget we're dining with your people
+tonight?'
+
+'It's a great nuisance.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce!'
+
+'It's such an infernally long way.'
+
+'It's only to Kensington.'
+
+'West Kensington. It's off the map. I'm not an explorer--I don't pretend
+to be.' He paused a moment, then went on, 'And it's not only the
+frightful distance and the expense of getting there, but when I do get
+there.... Do you consider that my people treat me with proper
+deference?'
+
+'With proper _what?_' asked Edith.
+
+'Deference. I admit I like deference. I need it--I require it; and at my
+people's--well, frankly, I don't get it.'
+
+'If you need it,' said Edith, 'I hope you will get it. But remember they
+are your father and mother.'
+
+'What do you mean by that?'
+
+'Well, I mean they know you very well, of course ... and all that.'
+
+'Do you imply...?'
+
+'Oh, no, Bruce dear,' she answered hastily; 'of course I don't. But
+really I think your people are charming'
+
+'To _you_ I know they are,' said he. 'It's all very well for you. They are
+awfully fond of _you_. You and my mother can talk about Archie and his
+nurse and housekeeping and fashions, and it's very jolly for you, but
+where's the fun for a man of the world?'
+
+'Your father--' began Edith.
+
+'My father!' Bruce took a turn round the room. 'I don't mind telling
+you, Edith, I don't consider my father a man of the world. Why, good
+heavens! when we are alone together, what do you suppose he talks about?
+He complains! Finds fault, if you please! Says I don't work--makes out
+I'm extravagant! Have _you_ ever found me extravagant?'
+
+'No, indeed. I'm sure you've never been extravagant--to _me_.'
+
+'He's not on my level intellectually in any way. I doubt very much if
+he's capable of understanding me at all. Still, I suppose we might as
+well go and get it over. My people's dinners are a most awful bore
+to me.'
+
+'How would you like it,' said Edith gently, 'if some day Archie were to
+call us my people, and talk about us as you do of yours?'
+
+'Archie!' shouted Bruce. 'Good heavens! Archie!' Bruce held out his arm
+with a magnificent gesture. 'If Archie ever treats me with any want of
+proper deference, I shall cut him off with a shilling!'
+
+'Do give me the shilling for him now,' said Edith laughing.
+
+
+The elder Mrs Ottley was a sweet woman, with a resigned smile and a
+sense of humour. She had a great admiration for Edith, who was very fond
+of her. No-one else was there on this occasion. Bruce always complained
+equally, regarding it as a slight if they were asked alone, and a bore
+if it was a dinner party. The elder Mr Ottley was considerably older
+than his wife, and was a handsome, clean-shaven elderly man with a
+hooked nose and a dry manner. The conversation at dinner consisted of
+vague attempts on Bruce's part to talk airy generalities, which were
+always brought back by his father to personalities more or less
+unflattering to Bruce.
+
+Edith and Mrs Ottley, fearing an explosion, which happened rather
+frequently when Bruce and his father were together, combined their
+united energy to ward it off.
+
+'And what do you intend the boy to be when he grows up?' asked old Mr
+Ottley. 'Are you going to make him a useful member of society, or a
+Foreign Office clerk?'
+
+'I intend my son,' said Bruce--'(a little port, please. Thanks.)--I
+intend my son to be a Man of the World.'
+
+His father gave a slight snort.
+
+'Be very careful,' said Mrs Ottley to Edith, 'not to let the darling
+catch cold in his perambulator this weather. Spring is so treacherous!'
+
+'Does he seem to show any particular bent for anything? I suppose
+hardly--yet?'
+
+'Well, he's very fond of soldiers,' said Edith.
+
+'Ah!' said Mr Ottley approvingly; 'what we want for empire-building is
+conscription. Every fellow ought to be a soldier some time in his life.
+It makes men of them '--he glanced round rather contemptuously--'it
+teaches them discipline.'
+
+'I don't mean,' said Edith hastily, 'that he wants to _be_ a soldier.
+But he likes playing with them. He takes them to bed with him. It is as
+much as I can do to keep him from eating them.'
+
+'The angel!' said Mrs Ottley.
+
+'You must be careful about that, Edith,' said Bruce solemnly. 'I
+understand red paint is poisonous.'
+
+'It won't hurt him,' said old Mr Ottley, purely from a spirit of
+contradiction.
+
+'But he's just as fond of animals,' said Edith quickly, to avert a
+storm. 'That Noah's Ark you gave him is his greatest pleasure. He's
+always putting the animals in and taking them out again.'
+
+'Oh, the clever darling!' cried Mrs Ottley. 'You'd hardly believe it,
+Edith, but Bruce was like that when he was a little boy too. He
+used to--'
+
+'Oh mother, do shut up!' said Bruce shame-facedly.
+
+'Well, he was very clever,' said Mrs Ottley defiantly. 'You'd hardly
+think so now perhaps, but the things that child used to say!'
+
+'Don't spoil Archie as his mother spoilt Bruce,' said Mr. Ottley.
+
+'Have you seen the new play at His Majesty's?' asked Bruce.
+
+'No, I haven't. I went to the theatre _last_ year,' said old Mr Ottley.
+'_I_ haven't heaps of money to spend on superfluous amusements.'
+
+'Bruce, you're not eating anything,' said Mrs Ottley anxiously. 'Do try
+some of these almonds and raisins. They're so good! I always get almonds
+and raisins at Harrod's now.'
+
+Edith seemed much interested, and warmly assented to the simple
+proposition that they were the best almonds and raisins in the world.
+
+The ladies retired.
+
+'Most trying Mr Ottley's been lately,' said Mrs Ottley. 'Extremely
+worrying. Do you suppose I have had a single instant to go and order a
+new bonnet? Not a second! Has Bruce been tiresome at all?'
+
+'Oh, no, he doesn't mean to be,' said Edith.
+
+Mrs Ottley pressed her hand. 'Darling I _know_ what it is. What a sweet
+dress! You have the most perfect taste. I don't care what people say,
+those Empire dresses are most trying. I think you're so right not to
+give in to it as so many young women are doing. Fashion indeed! Hiding
+your waist under a bushel instead of being humbly thankful that you've
+got one! Archie is the sweetest darling. I see very little likeness to
+Bruce, or his father. I think he takes after _my_ family, with a great
+look of you, dear. Most unfortunately, his father thinks Bruce is a
+little selfish ... too fond of pleasure. But he's a great deal at home,
+isn't he, dear?'
+
+'Yes, indeed,' said Edith, with a slight sigh. 'I think it's only that
+he's always been a little bit spoilt. No wonder, the only son! But he's
+a great dear, really.'
+
+His mother shook her head. 'Dear loyal girl! I used to be like that too.
+May I give you a slight hint? Never contradict. Never oppose him. Agree
+with him, then he'll change his mind; or if he doesn't, say you'll do as
+he wishes, and act afterwards in the matter as your own judgement
+dictates. He'll never find it out. What's that?'
+
+A door banged, hasty steps were heard. Bruce came into the drawing-room
+alone, looking slightly flushed and agitated.
+
+'Where's your father?' asked Mrs Ottley.
+
+'Gone to his study.... We'd better be getting home, Edith.'
+
+Edith and Mrs Ottley exchanged glances. They had not been able to
+prevent the explosion after all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+At the National Gallery
+
+
+It was with considerable difficulty and self-restraint that Cecil
+succeeded in waiting till the next day to see Mrs Raymond after his
+uncle's party. He was of an age and of a temperament that made his love
+affairs seem to him supremely urgent and of more importance than
+anything else in his life.
+
+He called on Mrs Raymond at eleven in the morning on the pretext of
+having something important to tell her. He found her sitting at her
+writing-table in a kind of red kimono. Her hair was brushed straight off
+her forehead, her eyes were sly and bright, and she looked more Japanese
+than ever.
+
+Cecil told her what Hyacinth had said to him.
+
+'Now, you see, I _can't_ go on making up to her any more. She doesn't
+care a straw about me, and she sees through it, of course. I've done
+what you asked me. Won't you be nice to me now?'
+
+'Certainly not! She's quite devoted to you. Telling you not to go and
+see her again! I never heard of anything so encouraging in my life. Now,
+Cecil,' she spoke seriously, 'that girl is a rare treasure. It's not
+only that she's a perfect beauty, but I read her soul yesterday. She has
+a beautiful nature, and she's in love with you. You don't appreciate
+her. If you take what she said literally, you're much stupider than I
+gave you credit for being. I--I simply shan't see you again till you've
+made it up. When you know her better you _must_ care for her. Besides, I
+insist upon it. If you don't--well, you'll have to turn your attention
+somewhere else. For I seriously mean it. I won't see you.'
+
+He looked obstinate.
+
+'It's a fad of yours, Eugenia.'
+
+'It's not a fad of mine. It's an opportunity of yours--one that you're
+throwing away in the most foolish way, that you might regret all your
+life. At any rate, _I'm_ not going to be the cause of giving that poor
+darling another moment's annoyance or uneasiness. The idea of the
+angelic creature being worried about me! Why, it's preposterous! I'm
+sure she heard what I said to you when she came in behind the screen. I
+can't bear it, and I won't have it. Now go and see her, and you're not
+to come back till you have. I mean it.'
+
+'I don't suppose for a moment--'
+
+'Rubbish! A woman knows. She went home and cried; I know she did, and
+she's counting the minutes till you see her again. Now, I've lots to do,
+and you're frightfully in the way. Good-bye.' She held out her hand.
+
+He rose.
+
+'You send me away definitely?'
+
+'Definitely, Your liking for me is pure perverseness.'
+
+'It's pure adoration,' said Cecil.
+
+'I don't think so. It's imagination. However, whatever it is I don't
+want it.'
+
+'Good-bye, then,' said Cecil.
+
+He went to the door.
+
+'You can let me know when you've seen her.'
+
+'I don't suppose she'll see me.'
+
+'Yes, she will now. It's the psychological moment.'
+
+'You shan't be bothered with me any more, anyhow,' said Cecil in a low
+voice.
+
+'Good. And do what I tell you.'
+
+He shut the shabby door of the little house with a loud bang, and went
+out with a great longing to do something vaguely desperate.
+
+Lunch produced a different mood. He said to himself that he wouldn't
+think of Mrs Raymond any more, and went to call on Hyacinth.
+
+The servant told him she was out.
+
+He was just turning away when Anne Yeo came out. She glanced at him with
+malicious satisfaction.
+
+'Hyacinth's gone to the National Gallery,' she volunteered. 'Did you
+want to see her? You will find her there.'
+
+Cecil walked a few steps with her.
+
+'I'm going to the greengrocer's,' continued Anne, 'to complain.' She
+held a little book in her hand, and he noticed that she wore a golf cap,
+thick boots, and a mackintosh, although it was a beautiful day.
+
+'I always dress like this,' she said, 'when I'm going to complain of
+prices. Isn't it a glorious day? The sort of day when everyone feels
+happy and hopeful.'
+
+'I don't feel either,' said Cecil candidly.
+
+'No, you don't look it. Why not go and see some pictures?'
+
+He smiled. They parted at the corner.
+
+Then Cecil, without leaving any message for Hyacinth, jumped into a
+hansom, giving the man the address of his club in Pall Mall. On the way
+he changed his mind, and drove to the National Gallery. As he went up
+the steps his spirits rose. He thought he recognised Miss Verney's motor
+waiting outside. There was something of an adventure in following her
+here. He would pretend it was an accident, and not let her know yet that
+he had called.
+
+He wandered through the rooms, which were very empty, and came upon
+Hyacinth seated on a red velvet seat opposite a Botticelli.
+
+She looked more dejected than he could have thought possible, her type
+being specially formed to express the joy of life. It was impossible to
+help feeling a thrill of flattered vanity when he saw the sudden change
+in her expression and her deep blush when she recognised him.
+
+'I didn't know you ever came here,' she said, as they shook hands.
+
+'It's a curious coincidence I should meet you when, for once in my life,
+I come to study the Primitives,' said Cecil.
+
+He then seated himself beside her.
+
+'Don't you think all that '--he waved his hand towards the pictures--'is
+rather a superstition?'
+
+'Perhaps; but it's glorious, I think. These are the only pictures that
+give me perfect satisfaction. All others, however good they are, have
+the effect of making me restless,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'I haven't had a moment's rest,' said Cecil, 'since I saw you yesterday
+afternoon. Why were you so unkind?'
+
+'Was it unkind?' she asked. Her face was illuminated.
+
+They spent an hour together; had horrible tea in the dismal
+refreshment-room, and having agreed that it seemed a shame to spend a
+lovely day within these walls, he said--
+
+'I don't think I've ever met you out of doors--in the open air, I mean.'
+
+'It would be nice,' said Hyacinth.
+
+He proposed that they should do something unconventional and delightful,
+and meet the next day in Kensington Gardens, which he assured her was
+just as good as the country just now. She agreed, and they made an
+appointment.
+
+'How is Mrs Raymond?' she then asked abruptly.
+
+'I don't know. Mrs Raymond--she's charming, and a great friend of mine,
+of course; but we've quarrelled. At least I'm not going to see
+her again.'
+
+'Poor Mrs Raymond!' exclaimed Hyacinth. 'Or perhaps I ought to be sorry
+for you?'
+
+'No, not if you let me sec you sometimes.' He looked at her radiant face
+and felt the soothing, rather intoxicating, effect of her admiration
+after Eugenia's coldness.... He took her hand and held it for a minute,
+and then they parted with the prospect of meeting the next day.
+
+Hyacinth went home too happy even to speak to Anne about it. She was
+filled with hope. He _must_ care for her.
+
+And Cecil felt as if he were a strange, newly-invented kind of criminal.
+Either, he said to himself, he was playing with the feelings of this
+dear, beautiful creature, or he was drifting into a _mariage de
+convenance_, a vulgar and mercenary speculation, while all the time he
+was madly devoted to someone else. He felt guilty, anxious, and furious
+with Eugenia. But she had really meant what she said that morning; she
+wouldn't see him again. But the thought of seeing Hyacinth under the
+trees the next morning--a secret appointment, too!--was certainly
+consoling.
+
+With a sudden sensation of being utterly sick of himself and his
+feelings, tired of both Hyacinth and Eugenia, and bored to death at the
+idea of all women, Cecil went to see Lord Selsey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+More of the Little Ottleys
+
+
+'Fancy!' said Edith.
+
+'Fancy what?'
+
+'Somehow I never should have thought it,' said Edith thoughtfully.
+
+'Never should have thought what? You have a way of assuming I know the
+end of your story before I've heard the beginning. It's an annoying
+method,' said Bruce.
+
+'I shouldn't have been so surprised if they had been anywhere else. But
+just _there_,' continued Edith.
+
+'Who? and where?'
+
+'Perhaps I'd better not tell you,' Edith said.
+
+They had just finished dinner, and she got up as if to ring the bell for
+coffee.
+
+He stopped her.
+
+'No! Don't ring; I don't wish Bennett to be present at a painful scene.'
+
+Edith looked at him. 'I didn't know there was going to be a painful
+scene. What's the matter?'
+
+'Naturally, I'm distressed and hurt at your conduct.'
+
+'Conduct!'
+
+'Don't echo my words, Edith.'
+
+She saw he looked really distressed.
+
+'Naturally,' he continued, 'I'm hurt at your keeping things from me.
+Your own husband! I may have my faults--'
+
+She nodded.
+
+'But I've not deserved this from you.'
+
+'Oh dear, Bruce, I was only thinking. I'm sorry if I was irritating. I
+will tell you.'
+
+'Go on.'
+
+'When Nurse and Archie were out in the Gardens this morning, who do you
+think they met?'
+
+'This is not a game. I'm not going to guess. You seem to take me for a
+child.'
+
+'Well, you won't tell anybody, will you?'
+
+'That depends. I'm not going to make any promises beforehand. I shall
+act on my own judgement.'
+
+'Oh, you might promise. Well, I'll trust you.'
+
+'Thanks! I should think so!'
+
+'They met Hyacinth, walking with Cecil Reeve alone in a quiet part of
+the Gardens. They weren't walking.'
+
+'Then why did you say they were?' asked Bruce severely.
+
+'It's the same thing. They were sitting down.'
+
+'How _can_ it be the same thing?'
+
+'Oh, don't worry, Bruce! They were sitting down under a tree and Nurse
+saw them holding hands.'
+
+Bruce looked horrified.
+
+'Holding hands,' continued Edith; 'and I can't help thinking they must
+be engaged. Isn't it extraordinary Hyacinth hasn't told me? What do
+you think?'
+
+Bruce got up from the table, lighted a cigarette, and walked round the
+little room.
+
+'I don't know. I must consider. I must think it over.' He paused a
+minute. 'I am pained. Pained and surprised. A girl like Hyacinth, a
+friend of yours, behaving like a housemaid out with a soldier in the
+open street!'
+
+'It wasn't the street, Bruce.'
+
+'It's the same idea.'
+
+'Quite a quiet part of the Gardens.'
+
+'That makes their conduct worse. I scarcely think, after what you have
+told me, that I can allow you to go out with Hyacinth tomorrow.'
+
+'How can you be so absurd? I must go; I want to hear about it.'
+
+'Have I ever made any objection till now at your great intimacy with
+Hyacinth Verney? Of course not. Because I was deceived in her.'
+
+'Deceived?'
+
+'Don't repeat my words, Edith. I won't have it! Certainly I was
+deceived. I thought she was a fitting companion for you--I
+_thought_ so.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce, really! Where's the harm? Perhaps they're engaged; and if
+they are I think it is charming. Cecil is such a nice, amusing,
+good-looking boy, and--'
+
+'I formed my opinion of Reeve some time ago.'
+
+'You only met him once.'
+
+'Once is more than enough for me to form a judgement of anyone. He is
+absolutely unworthy of her. But her conduct I regard as infinitely
+worse. I always imagined she was respectably brought up--a lady!'
+
+'Good gracious! Anyone can see that! She's the most charming girl in the
+world.'
+
+'_Outwardly_, no doubt, she seems all right. But now you see what she
+is.'
+
+He paused to relight his cigarette, which had gone out, and continued:
+'Such behaviour would be dreadful enough in private, but in public! Do
+you think of the example?'
+
+'The example to Archie, do you mean?'
+
+'Don't laugh, Edith. This is no matter for laughing. Certainly to
+Archie--to anyone. Now I've only one thing to say.'
+
+'Do say it.'
+
+'That I never wish to hear Hyacinth Verney's name mentioned again. You
+are never to speak of her to me. Do you hear?'
+
+'Yes, Bruce.'
+
+'It is such a disillusion. I'm so shocked, so horrified, finding her a
+snake in the grass.'
+
+'Oh, I'm sure she didn't look a bit like a snake, Bruce. She wore that
+lovely grey dress and a hat with roses.'
+
+'How do you know? Did _Archie_ tell you? No; you lowered yourself to
+question Nurse. A nice opinion Nurse must have of your friends now! No;
+_that's_ over. I won't blame _you_, dear, but I must never hear anything
+more about Hyacinth.'
+
+Edith sat down and took up a book.
+
+'Why is there no coffee?' asked Bruce rather loudly.
+
+'Oh, you said I wasn't to ring.'
+
+She rang.
+
+While the parlourmaid was bringing in the coffee, Bruce said in a high,
+condescending voice--
+
+'Have you seen that interesting article in the evening paper, dear,
+about the Solicitor-General?'
+
+'Which do you mean? "Silk and Stuff"?'
+
+'Yes. Read it--read it and improve your mind. Far better for a woman to
+occupy her mind with general subjects, and make herself intellectually a
+companion for her husband--are you listening?--than to be always
+gossiping and thinking about people and their paltry private affairs. Do
+you hear?'
+
+'Yes, dear.'
+
+He took his coffee and then said--
+
+'In what direction did you say they were going?'
+
+'Oh, I thought you didn't want me to speak of her again. They were going
+in the opposite direction.'
+
+'Opposite to what? Now that's the curious difference between a woman's
+intellect and a man's. You can't be logical! What do you mean by
+"opposite"?'.
+
+'Why, Bruce, I mean just opposite. The other way.'
+
+'Do you mean they walked off separately?'
+
+'Oh, no! They were going away together, and looking so happy. But
+really, Bruce, I'm sorry I bothered you, telling you about it. I had no
+idea you would feel it so much.'
+
+'What do you mean? Feel it? Of course, I'm terribly distressed to find
+that a wife of mine is intimate with such people--where are you going?'
+
+'I was going to write to Hyacinth and tell her I can't go out with her
+tomorrow.'
+
+'Why can't you go out with her?'
+
+'You said I was never to see her again.'
+
+'Yes; but don't be in a hurry. Never be impulsive.' He waited a minute;
+she stood by the door. 'On the whole, since you wish it so much, I will
+permit you to go out with her this once--for the last time, of
+course--so that you can find out if she really is engaged to be married
+to that young ass. What a mercenary scoundrel he must be!'
+
+'I don't think that. Anyone would admire her, and he is very well off
+himself.'
+
+'Well off! Do you consider that to his credit. So should I be well off
+if I had relations that died and left me a lot of money. Don't defend
+him, Edith; his conduct is simply disgraceful. What right has he to
+expect to marry a beautiful girl in Hyacinth's position? Good gracious,
+does he want everything?'
+
+'I suppose--he likes her.'
+
+'That's not particularly clever of him. So would any man. What I object
+to so much about that empty-headed cad, is that he's never satisfied. He
+wants the earth, it seems to me!'
+
+'Really, Bruce, one would think you were quite--'
+
+'What?'
+
+'Well, quite jealous of him, to hear you talk. If one didn't know
+that--of course you can't be,' she added quickly.
+
+'This incident is now closed,' said Bruce. 'We will never discuss the
+subject again.'
+
+'Very well, dear.'
+
+She then went into the little drawing-room and looked longingly at the
+telephone. She feared there would be no chance of communicating with her
+friend that evening.
+
+Five minutes later Bruce came in and said--
+
+'And what can old Cannon be about to allow his ward to be tearing about
+all over London with a man of Reeve's antecedents?'
+
+'What's the matter with his antecedents? I didn't know he had any.'
+
+'Don't interrupt. And Miss Yeo? Where was Miss Yeo, I should like to
+know?'
+
+'I can't _think_.'
+
+'A nice way she does her duty as chaperone!'
+
+'Dear, Hyacinth's twenty-three, not a child. Miss Yeo's her companion;
+but she can't insist, even if she wants to, on following Hyacinth about
+if she doesn't wish it.'
+
+'She should wish it. Seriously, do you think Sir Charles knows of these
+goings-on--I mean of this conduct?'
+
+'I shouldn't think he knew the details.'
+
+'Then isn't it my duty as a married man and father of a family--'
+
+Edith concealed a smile by moving the screen.
+
+'To communicate with him on the subject?'
+
+Edith had a moment's terror. It struck her that if she opposed him,
+Bruce was capable of doing it. He often wrote letters beginning, 'Sir, I
+feel it my duty,' to people on subjects that were no earthly concern of
+his. If he really did anything of this sort, Hyacinth would never
+forgive her.
+
+After a second's concentration of mind, she said mildly--
+
+'Perhaps you had better, if you really feel it your duty. Of course, I'd
+rather you didn't, personally. But if that's how you feel about it--'
+
+Bruce wheeled round at once.
+
+'Indeed! Well, I shall not do anything of the sort. Is it my business to
+open her guardian's eyes? Why should I? No; I won't interfere in the
+matter at all. Let them go their own way. Do you hear, Edith? Let them
+do just whatever they like.'
+
+'Yes; I was going to.'
+
+'Mind you, they'll be wretched,' he added rather vindictively. 'If I
+only saw a chance of happiness for them I shouldn't mind so much.'
+
+'Why do you think they will be miserable if they are married?'
+
+'Of course they will. People who behave in that unprincipled way
+before--'
+
+'Why, we used to sit in the garden,' said Edith timidly.
+
+'Oh, yes, of course; after your father had given his consent.'
+
+'And once or twice before.'
+
+Bruce smiled rather fatuously. 'Don't compare the two cases. I was a man
+of the world.... I was very firm, wasn't I Edith? Somehow at first your
+father didn't seem to like me, but I reasoned with him. I always reason
+calmly with people. And then he came round. Do you remember how pleased
+you were that day?' He patted Edith's hair.
+
+'Then why be so severe?'
+
+'Perhaps I am a little bit too severe,' he acknowledged. 'But you don't
+quite understand how it jars on me to think of any friend of yours
+behaving in a manner that's--are you sure they're engaged?'
+
+'No; I don't know anything about it.'
+
+'Well, of course, if they don't marry after what Archie has seen, it
+will be a public scandal, that's all I can say. On the other hand, of
+course, it would be far better not.'
+
+'What do you propose?' said Edith.
+
+'I don't quite know; I'll think it over. Look here, Edith, if you don't
+mind, I think I'll go for a little stroll. The flat seems so hot and
+airless tonight'
+
+Edith glanced at the telephone.
+
+'Oh, don't go,' she said.
+
+He went into the hall and put on his coat. 'I must go, dear. I feel the
+need of air. I shan't be long.'
+
+'You will only go for a little walk, won't you?'
+
+'I might go to the club for half an hour. I shall see. Good night,
+dear.'
+
+'Good night.'
+
+He came back to say, in a rather mysterious voice--
+
+'What were Nurse's exact words?'
+
+'Oh, she said, "Miss Verney seemed to be carrying on anyhow with a young
+gentleman in Kensington Gardens," and then she said it was Mr Reeve,
+that's all.'
+
+'Disgusting! Horrible!'
+
+He went out and banged the door.
+
+Edith went to the telephone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Lady Cannon's Visit
+
+
+Lady Cannon got up one morning earlier than usual and tried on a dress
+of last season, which she found was a little too tight. For this,
+naturally, she blamed her maid with some severity. She then dressed
+rather hurriedly and went all over the house, touching little ornaments
+with the tip of her finger, saying that the pictures in the drawing-room
+were crooked, and that nothing had been properly dusted. Having sent for
+the housemaid and scolded her, and given the second footman notice, she
+felt better, but was still sufficiently in what is expressively called a
+bad temper to feel an inclination to do disagreeable duties, so she made
+up her mind to call and see her husband's ward, and tell her something
+she would not like to hear. For Hyacinth she always felt a curious
+mixture of chronic anger, family pride, and admiring disapproval, which
+combination she had never yet discovered to be a common form of
+vague jealousy.
+
+Lady Cannon arrived about three o'clock, pompously dressed in tight
+purple velvet and furs. She thought she saw two heads appear at the
+studio window and then vanish, but was told that Miss Verney was out.
+
+Prompted by a determination not to be baffled, she said she would get
+out and write a note, and was shown to the drawing-room.
+
+Anne, in a peculiarly hideous and unnecessary apron of black alpaca,
+came in, bringing a little writing-case.
+
+'Oh! Miss Yeo, as you're there, I needn't write the letter. You can give
+Hyacinth a message for me.'
+
+'Certainly, Lady Cannon.'
+
+'How is it that she is out at this extraordinary hour?'
+
+'Is there anything extraordinary about the hour?' asked Anne, looking at
+the clock. 'It's three; somehow I always regard three as a particularly
+ordinary hour.'
+
+'I differ from you, Miss Yeo.'
+
+'Anyhow, it happens every day,' murmured Anne.
+
+'Was Hyacinth out to lunch?' said Lady Cannon.
+
+'No--no. She lunched at home.'
+
+'Do you think she'll be long?'
+
+'Oh, no; I shouldn't think she would be many minutes.'
+
+'Then I think I'll wait.'
+
+'_Do_,' said Anne cordially.
+
+'I wanted to speak to her. Considering she's my husband's ward, I see
+very, very little of Hyacinth, Miss Yeo.'
+
+'Yes, she was saying the other day that you hardly ever called now,'
+Anne said conciliatingly.
+
+'Has she been quite well lately?'
+
+'Oh, do you know, she's been so well,' said Anne, in a high, affected
+voice, which she knew was intensely irritating. 'So very, very well!'
+
+Anne then stood up.
+
+'Would you like a cup of tea, or coffee, while you're waiting?'
+
+'_Tea_? At three o'clock in the afternoon! I never heard of such a
+thing. You seem to have strangely Bohemian ideas in this house,
+Miss Yeo!'
+
+'Do you think tea Bohemian? Well, coffee then?'
+
+Lady Cannon hesitated, but wishing for an excuse to wait, she said--
+
+'Thank you, if it isn't giving any trouble; perhaps I'll take a cup of
+coffee. I didn't have any after lunch.'
+
+'Oh, yes, do. I'll go and order it at once.'
+
+Anne walked with slow, languid dignity to the door, and when she had
+shut it, flew like a hunted hare to the studio, where Cecil Reeve and
+Hyacinth were sitting together.
+
+'Hyacinth,' she said sharply, 'run upstairs at once, put on your hat, go
+to the hall door and bang it, and come into the drawing-room. Lady
+Cannon's going to stop the whole afternoon. She's in an
+appalling temper.'
+
+'She won't wait long,' exclaimed Hyacinth, 'surely?'
+
+'Won't she? She's ordered coffee. She'll be smoking a cigarette before
+you know where you are.'
+
+'Oh, I'll go,' said Cecil. 'Let me go.'
+
+'Of course you must go,' said Anne. 'You can come back in an hour.'
+
+'But, good heavens, Anne,' said Hyacinth, 'why on earth should we make a
+secret of Mr Reeve being here?'
+
+'Why, because I said you were out.'
+
+'Well, I'll go and explain,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'Indeed you won't. You're not to go and give me away. Besides, I won't
+be baffled by that old cat. She's suspicious already. Out you go!'
+
+Cecil took his hat and stick, and went out of the front door.
+
+Anne ran upstairs, brought down Hyacinth's hat, veil, and gloves, and
+pushed her towards the drawing-room.
+
+'Don't you see?--she'll think you've just come in,' said Anne.
+
+'What about the coachman and footman?'
+
+'Oh, good heavens, do you think they're going to call on her and tell
+her all about it?'
+
+Just as Hyacinth, laughing, was going into the drawing-room, Anne
+clutched her, and said--
+
+'I don't know that you'd better be at home after all! Charles will be
+calling directly. Oh, I forgot, he won't come in when he sees the
+carriage.'
+
+Anne relaxed her clasp and went to order coffee.
+
+Lady Cannon was looking angrily in the glass when Hyacinth came in.
+
+'Oh, here you are, my dear. I'm glad I didn't miss you. I wanted to
+speak to you about something.'
+
+'Yes, Auntie.'
+
+Lady Cannon coughed, and said rather portentously, 'You must not be
+offended with me, dear. You know, in a sense I'm, as it were, in the
+place of your mother--or, at any rate, your stepmother.'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Of course you're perfectly free to do exactly as you like, but I heard
+in a roundabout way something that rather surprised me about you.'
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'We were dining with some friends last night' (it was characteristic of
+Lady Cannon not to mention their names), 'where we happened to meet that
+young couple, the Ottleys. You know Mrs Ottley very well, I believe?'
+
+'Edith is my greatest friend,' said Hyacinth.
+
+'Quite so; she seems a very nice young woman. Very devoted to her
+husband. And I think him a most superior man! He sat next to me at
+dinner, and I had quite a long talk with him. We spoke of you. He told
+me something that surprised me so much. He said that you had been seen
+very frequently lately about alone with a young man. Is this a fact?'
+
+'What did he say about it?'
+
+'Well, he seemed to regret it--he seemed to think it was a pity. Living
+alone as you do, it certainly is not the right thing for you to be seen
+anywhere without Miss Yeo.'
+
+Hyacinth became crimson. 'On what grounds did Mr Ottley find fault with
+anything I do?'
+
+'Merely general grounds, my dear. A very proper dislike to the flighty
+behaviour of the girls of the present day. As he tells me, he feels it
+as a father--'
+
+'Father! He has only a little boy of two. I think it's very impertinent
+of him to talk of me like that at all.'
+
+'On the contrary, I thought it exceedingly nice of him. He sincerely
+wishes you well, Hyacinth. Oh, _how_ well that young man wishes you!
+Make no mistake about it. By the way, I promised him not to mention his
+name in the matter. So of course you won't repeat it. But I was really
+rather upset at what he said. I haven't said anything to Sir Charles
+yet, as I thought you might give me some explanation.'
+
+'I have no explanation to give. I suppose you know who it is I was
+walking with?'
+
+'I gathered that it was a Mr Reeve. Now, Hyacinth dear, you know how
+much I wish you well; if you're engaged, I think your guardian and I
+ought to know it, and in any case you should be more discreet in your
+behaviour.'
+
+Hyacinth's eyes flashed.
+
+'Are you engaged?' asked Lady Cannon.
+
+'I must decline to answer. I recognise no right that you or anyone else
+has to ask me such a question.'
+
+Lady Cannon rose indignantly, leaving her coffee untouched.
+
+'Very well, Hyacinth; if this is the way you take my kind advice and
+well-meant interest, there's nothing more to be said. Of course, I shall
+tell Sir Charles what I've heard. From what I can gather from that
+excellent young man Mr Ottley, Mr Reeve is by no means a person that Sir
+Charles and I would be glad to welcome with open arms, as one of
+the family.'
+
+'Cecil Reeve is a friend of mine. There's nothing in the world to be
+said against him, and you must really allow me the privilege of choosing
+my own friends.'
+
+'Good-bye then,' said Lady Cannon, going to the door. 'I'm pained,
+grieved, and shocked at your attitude. I can only presume, however, that
+you are not engaged to be married, for surely your first thought would
+have been to ask your guardian's consent; and once more let me tell you,
+in being reckless as you have, you're simply ruining your future.'
+
+With this Lady Cannon swept from the room.
+
+She returned, however, and said, 'I regard all this as not your own
+fault, Hyacinth, but the fault of _that Miss Yeo_. From the first I saw
+she had an evil influence, and I've been proved, as, perhaps
+unfortunately, I always am, to be perfectly right.'
+
+
+'The worst of it was,' Hyacinth said, when relating the conversation to
+Anne a little later,' that I _can't_ tell Auntie that I'm engaged. Isn't
+it awful?'
+
+'You soon will be,' said Anne consolingly.
+
+'Do you really think so?'
+
+'Yes, and I'm glad Lady Cannon was scored off, anyhow.'
+
+'Edith told me about her having mentioned to Bruce about our meeting the
+nurse and baby. She was very sorry, but I thought it didn't matter a
+bit. Why do you think Bruce tried to make mischief in this horrid way?'
+
+'Only because he's a fool. Like so many of us, he's in love with you,'
+said Anne.
+
+Hyacinth laughed, thinking Anne was in fun.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Raggett in Love
+
+
+'If you please, ma'am a gentleman called and left some flowers.'
+
+'Who was it?' said Edith.
+
+'He wouldn't give his name. There's a note for you.'
+
+Edith went into the drawing-room, where she found a large bundle of
+lilies, violets, and daffodils, and the following letter, written in a
+cramped, untidy handwriting:--
+
+'DEAR MRS OTTLEY,
+
+'I went for a bicycle ride yesterday and plucked these flowers for you,
+hoping you wouldn't mind accepting them. If you have a moment's time to
+give me, I wonder if you would let me call and see you one day?
+
+'Sincerely yours,
+
+'F. J. RAGGETT
+
+'P.S.--I'm extremely busy, but am free at any time. Perhaps tomorrow
+might suit you? Or if you're engaged tomorrow, perhaps today? I would
+ask you to ring me up and kindly let me know, but I'm not on the
+telephone.'
+
+
+Edith was amused, but also a little bored. Ever since the dinner at the
+Savoy, now a fortnight ago, Raggett had been showing furtive signs of a
+wild admiration for her, at the same time hedging absurdly by asking her
+to tell him when he might call and giving no address, and by (for
+instance) pretending he had plucked the flowers himself, evidently not
+knowing that they had been sent with her address written on a card
+printed with the name of Cooper's Stores in the Edgware Road.
+
+She never knew how Bruce would take things, so she had not said anything
+about it to him yet. He seemed to have forgotten the existence of
+Raggett, and never mentioned him now.
+
+She arranged the flowers in some blue and white china vases, and sat
+down by the window in the little drawing-room. She had before her, until
+Bruce would come home to dinner, two of those empty hours which all
+young married women in her position have known. There was nothing to do.
+Archie was still out, and she was tired of reading, and disliked
+needlework.
+
+She had just come back from seeing Hyacinth. How full and interesting
+_her_ life seemed! At any rate, _she_ had everything before her. Edith
+felt as if she herself were locked up in a box. Even her endless
+patience with Bruce was beginning to pall a little.
+
+As she was thinking these things she heard a ring, and the maid came in
+and said--
+
+'It's the gentleman that left the flowers, and could you see him for a
+minute?'
+
+'Certainly.'
+
+Raggett came in. He looked just as extraordinary as he had at the Savoy
+and as difficult to place. His manner could not be said to express
+anything, for he had no manner, but his voice was the voice of a shy
+undergraduate, while his clothes, Edith thought, suggested a combination
+of a bushranger and a conjuror. His tie, evidently new, was a marvel, a
+sort of true-lover's knot of red patterned with green, strange beyond
+description. He seemed terrified.
+
+'How very kind of you to come and see me,' she said in her sweetest
+voice, 'and these lovely flowers! They quite brighten one up.'
+
+'I'm glad you think they're all right,' said Raggett in a low voice.
+
+'They're beautiful. Fancy your plucking them all yourself! Where did you
+find these lovely lilies growing? I always fancied they were
+hot-house plants.'
+
+'Oh, I was bicycling,' Raggett said. 'I just saw them, you know. I
+thought you might like them. How is Ottley?'
+
+'Bruce is very well. Haven't you seen him lately?'
+
+'Not very. I've been working so fearfully hard,' he said; 'at the
+British Museum chiefly. One doesn't run up against Bruce there much.'
+
+'No. I suppose he hardly ever goes.'
+
+There was a pause.
+
+'Won't you have some tea?' asked Edith.
+
+'No, thank you. I never take it.'
+
+And there was another silence.
+
+Just as Edith was rather at a loss, and was beginning a sentence with--
+
+'Have you been--' he at the same time said--
+
+'Do you know--?'
+
+'I beg your pardon,' said Edith.
+
+'Oh, I beg yours.'
+
+'Do say what you were going to say.'
+
+'Oh, please finish your sentence.'
+
+'I wasn't going to say anything.'
+
+'Nor was I.'
+
+'I was going to ask you if you'd been to the Savoy again lately?'
+
+'No; I've only been there once in my life. It was a great event for me,
+Mrs Ottley.'
+
+'Really?'
+
+He spoke with more confidence, but in a still lower voice.
+
+'Yes. I met my ideal there.'
+
+He fixed on her an ardent but respectful glare.
+
+She smiled.
+
+'I'm afraid,' continued Raggett, 'that I'm not amusing you much. I
+suppose you're very fond of wit and gaiety? I wasn't brought up in a
+very humorous atmosphere. I don't think I ever heard a joke till quite
+recently.'
+
+Edith laughed.
+
+'My father,' he went on, 'used sometimes to say at night. "Now it's time
+for Bedfordshire," but I wasn't amused at that after ten years old. My
+family are really very serious as a whole. I should never dream of
+asking them even a riddle, because I'm sure they would give it up
+at once.'
+
+'Did you say you heard one joke recently? What was it?' asked Edith.
+
+Raggett blushed and looked down.
+
+'I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I can't tell you, Mrs Ottley. Not that I
+forget it, but it isn't suited to your--well, to your atmosphere'--he
+looked round the room.
+
+'Oh! Can't you _arrange_ it?'
+
+'Impossible,' he said firmly. 'Quite impossible.'
+
+'Oh well, of course--'
+
+'Impossible,' he repeated, shaking his head.
+
+'Do you go much to the theatre?' she asked conversationally.
+
+'Never. It would interfere with my work.'
+
+'What is your work, exactly?' she asked, with polite interest.
+
+'It's difficult to explain, Mrs Ottley. It takes a great many forms.'
+
+'Oh, yes.'
+
+'Just at this moment I'm a Legitimist--you understand, don't you? We
+drink to Queen Mary over the water--and put violets on the statue of
+King Charles the Martyr in February, and so forth.'
+
+'Ah. That must be very hard work.'
+
+'Oh, it isn't only that--I'm a kind of Secretary, you see, to the
+Society.'
+
+'Really? Really? What fun it must be; I mean how interesting. Can I
+belong?'
+
+'Oh, dear yes, of course, Mrs Ottley. If you liked.'
+
+'What should I have to do?'
+
+'Well, first of all you would have to pay a shilling.'
+
+'Yes?'
+
+'And then you would be eligible for a year's probation.'
+
+'And what should we do after that?'
+
+'Well, after that, you see, we shall have to bide our time.'
+
+'That doesn't sound very hard,' said Edith thoughtfully. 'Just to pay a
+shilling and bide your time.'
+
+'I'll send you some papers about it, if you really take any interest.'
+
+'Thanks. Thanks, very much. Yes, do send them.'
+
+'Do you really think you would care to become a member, Mrs Ottley?'
+
+'Oh, yes; yes, I should think so. I always hated Oliver Cromwell.'
+
+He looked doubtful.
+
+'Yes, of course--but that alone, I'm afraid, would hardly be ... you see
+there might be a revolution at any moment.'
+
+'I see. But--excuse my asking you, what has that to do with the British
+Museum?'
+
+'I can hardly tell you off-hand like this, Mrs Ottley; but if you let me
+come again one day--'
+
+'Oh, certainly, do--do come again.'
+
+'Then I'll say good-bye for today,' said Raggett, with an admiring look.
+'I--I hope I haven't trespassed on your valuable--'
+
+'Oh, no; not in the least.'
+
+'I've enjoyed our talk so much,' said Raggett, lingering.
+
+'So have I, Mr Raggett. It has been most interesting.'
+
+'I--I felt,' said Raggett, now standing up and looking very shy, 'I
+somehow felt at once that there was a kind of--may I say, sympathy?'
+
+'Quite so.'
+
+'Yes? Well, give my kind regards to Ottley, and thank you so much.'
+
+They shook hands, she rang the bell, and he rushed out as if he was in a
+violent hurry, leaving Edith rather bewildered.
+
+
+At dinner that evening Edith said--
+
+'Fancy, Bruce, Raggett called today!'
+
+Bruce dropped his spoon in the soup and looked up.
+
+'_Raggett_? He--do you mean to say he came here?'
+
+'Yes. He paid a visit. Why shouldn't he?'
+
+'I don't know, but it seems a very odd thing. He never pays visits. What
+did he seem to think of the flat?'
+
+'He didn't say. He talked about his work.'
+
+'What did you think of him?' asked Bruce.
+
+'He seemed very vague. He's very good-natured; fancy his sending me all
+those flowers!'
+
+'He sent you flowers?' said Bruce slowly. '_Raggett_!'
+
+'Surely you don't mind?'
+
+Bruce waited a minute and said, 'We'll talk it over after dinner.'
+
+There was an uneasy pause; then Edith said--
+
+'I saw Hyacinth today. She had just had a visit from Lady Cannon.'
+
+Bruce looked rather guilty and uncomfortable.
+
+'I like Lady Cannon,' he said presently. 'She's a woman of sound sense.
+She has a very strong feeling of responsibility about Hyacinth.'
+
+'Yes.' Edith and Hyacinth had arranged not to say any more, as it would
+be useless.
+
+'A very discreet woman, too,' continued Bruce. 'And what news about
+Hyacinth?'
+
+'None, I think. She seems very happy.'
+
+'Happy! _That_ can't last.'
+
+After dinner Bruce followed Edith into the drawing-room, looked angrily
+at the flowers and said--
+
+'Now what's the meaning of all this? Mind, I'm not jealous. It isn't my
+nature to be. What I dislike is being made a fool of. If I thought that
+Raggett, after all I've done for him--'
+
+'Oh, Bruce! How can you be so absurd? A poor harmless creature--'
+
+'Harmless creature, indeed! I think it extremely marked, calling on you
+when I was out.'
+
+'He didn't know you were out. It's the usual time to pay a visit, and he
+really came just to ask me to belong to the Society.'
+
+'I don't call Raggett a society man.'
+
+'He's a secret-society man,' said Edith. 'He wants me to be a
+Legitimist.'
+
+'Now I won't have any nonsense of that sort here,' said Bruce, striking
+the table with his fist. 'Goodness knows where it will end. That sort of
+thing takes women away from the natural home duties, and I disapprove of
+it strongly. Why, he'll soon be asking you to be a Suffragette! I think
+I shall write to Raggett.'
+
+'Oh, would you, really?'
+
+'I shall write to him,' repeated Bruce, 'and tell him that I won't have
+these constant visits and marked attentions. I shall say you complained
+to me. Yes, that's the dignified way, and I shall request him to keep
+his secret societies to himself, and not to try to interfere with the
+peace and harmony of a happy English home.'
+
+He drew some writing-paper towards him.
+
+'I'm sure he didn't mean the slightest harm. He thought it was the
+proper thing, after dining with us.'
+
+'But it isn't like the man, Edith! It isn't Raggett! He's no slave to
+convention; don't think it. I can't help fancying that there must have
+been some ulterior motive. It seems to me sinister--that's the
+word--sinister.'
+
+'Would you think it sinister if he never came, again?'
+
+'Well, perhaps not, but in allowing this to pass--isn't it the thin end
+of the wedge?'
+
+'Give him a chance and see,' she said. 'Don't be in a hurry. After all,
+he's your great friend. You're always talking to me about him; and
+what's he done?--sent a few flowers and called here once. I'm sure he
+thought you would like it.'
+
+'But don't you see, Edith, the attention should have been paid to me,
+not to you.'
+
+'He could hardly send you flowers, Bruce. I'm sure he thought it was the
+proper thing.'
+
+Bruce walked up and down the room greatly agitated.
+
+'I admit that this is a matter that requires consideration. I shouldn't
+like to make a mountain out of a mole-hill. We'll see; we'll give him a
+chance. But if he comes here again, or takes any step to persuade you to
+have anything to do with his Society or whatever it is, I shall know
+how to act.'
+
+'Of course you will, dear.'
+
+Edith hoped she wouldn't receive a large envelope full of papers about
+the Legitimists by the first post.
+
+'I hope you know, Bruce, _I_ shouldn't care if I never saw him again.'
+
+'Why not? Because he's my friend, I suppose? You look down on him just
+because he's a hard worker, and of some use in the world--not a
+dandified, conventional, wasp-waisted idiot like Cecil Reeve! Perhaps
+you prefer Cecil Reeve?'
+
+'Much,' replied Edith firmly.
+
+'Why? Let's hear your reasons.'
+
+'Why, he's a real person. I know where I am when I'm talking to
+him--we're on the same platform.'
+
+'Platform?'
+
+'Yes. When I talk to Mr Raggett I feel as if he had arrived at Victoria,
+and I had gone to meet him at Charing Cross. Do you see? We don't get
+near enough to understand each other.'
+
+'Quite near enough,' replied Bruce suspiciously. Then he said, 'I feel
+the want of air. If you don't mind, dear, I think I shall go for
+a stroll.'
+
+'Oh, don't!'
+
+He went to the hall and put on his coat.
+
+'Just a stroll; or I may look in at the club. You don't understand; a
+man feels rather cramped in these surroundings, Edith.'
+
+'I quite understand your feeling.'
+
+'I shan't be long,' said Bruce. 'Try and make up your mind to give up
+Raggett's society altogether. You don't mind making this sacrifice for
+me, do you?'
+
+'Not in the least,' she answered. 'I prefer it.'
+
+He went out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Archie
+
+
+It was Sunday afternoon, and Bruce, lunch still pervading his
+consciousness, found himself reading over and over again and taking a
+kind of stupefied interest in the 'Answers to Correspondents' in a
+certain Sunday paper, and marvelling at the mine of extraordinary
+miscellaneous information possessed by the person who answered them.
+
+'Brief replies:--
+
+'To _Miserable Alfred_ (Baldness).--If you comply with the rules, will
+send private advice.
+
+'_Knutford_ (For knee trouble).--My advice is against.' (Bruce vaguely
+thought this rather harsh. If Knutford liked knee trouble, why shouldn't
+he have it?)
+
+'_Alter Ego_ (Tomato culture).--There's no need to soak the seeds for
+days. The man who sows in wet soil and then treads down flat foredooms
+himself to complete failure. This is, however, nothing to go by. If seed
+be purchased let it be from a trustworthy firm. Personally, I think in
+the case of outdoor tomatoes the middle course is best.
+
+'_Worried_ (Photography).--To avoid curling. The chief trouble with reel
+films is their tendency to curl. In any case the film should be allowed
+to soak for five minutes, and I need not dwell upon other methods of
+treating the latter kind. All my remarks on plate development, etc.,
+apply equally to cut films, as I should almost have thought 'Worried'
+would have gathered by now.
+
+'_True Blue_ (Egg-preserving).--We quite understand your desire to make
+more headway than you can in a south-coast watering-place....'
+
+
+At this moment Edith came in. Bruce looked up a little annoyed at the
+interruption. He was becoming quite absorbed in the egg-preserving case
+on the south coast, and morbidly anxious to know what would happen next.
+
+'Bruce, I wonder if you'd do me a very great favour? It really isn't
+difficult. I've allowed nurse to go out and Bennett is busy, and I
+wanted to fly over just for a minute or two to see Hyacinth. She
+telephoned to me. I shouldn't be gone more than twenty minutes.'
+
+'Of course, go. Do go. I don't want you. I'm very busy.'
+
+He took up the paper again.
+
+'It isn't that; but _would_ you very much mind looking after Archie
+while I'm gone? He'll be perfectly good. I'll give him his box of toys,
+and he'll sit in the corner over there and you'll never notice he's
+there till I'm back again.'
+
+'Of course, of course. Surely I'm capable of looking after my own son.
+Do go.'
+
+'Yes, Bruce dear. And if he asks for anything just nod and smile and
+don't give it to him, and he'll be all right.'
+
+'Oh, don't worry.'
+
+As she was going out he called out--
+
+'And I say, Edith, just give him a hint that I've got some rather
+important work to do, and he mustn't interrupt me by asking foolish
+questions.'
+
+'Yes, oh yes. I'm so glad to think you're so sensible, and not
+ridiculously nervous of having to look after the child.'
+
+'Nervous? What rot! I never heard such nonsense. I say, Edith, what's
+the doctor's address? In case he has a fit, or anything.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce! As if he would _dream_ of having a fit! I shan't give you
+the address. You'd be telephoning to him on the chance. Good gracious,
+don't make such a fuss! I shall only be gone a few minutes.'
+
+'I'm not making a fuss. It's you. Fancy thinking it necessary to tell me
+not to give him what he asks for! As if I should.'
+
+He returned to his paper, and Edith brought in the little boy.
+
+He gave his father a keen glance from under his smooth, fair fringe and
+sat down in front of the box of toys.
+
+As soon as Edith had gone he held out a card to his father, and said--
+
+'E for efalunt.'
+
+Bruce frowned, nodded, waved his hand, and went on reading.
+
+He had lost the thread of the Egg Question, but became equally absorbed
+in the following problem.
+
+'_Disheartened_.--You must make a quiet but determined stand against
+such imposition. It does not follow because you walked out with a young
+man two or three times, and he now walks out with your friend
+instead, that ...'
+
+'X for swordfish,' said Archie, holding out another card.
+
+'Don't talk, Archie.'
+
+'I've got my best suit on,' said Archie.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'What I was photographed in.'
+
+'Don't talk, old chap. I want to read.'
+
+'This is my bear. It's the same bear.'
+
+'The same bear as what?'
+
+'Why, the same bear! This is a soldier.'
+
+He put the wooden soldier in his mouth, then put it carefully back in
+the box.
+
+'This is my bear,' said Archie again. 'Just the same bear. That's all.'
+
+Bruce threw away the paper.
+
+'You want to have a talk, eh?' he said.
+
+'This is my best suit,' said Archie. 'Have you any sugar in your
+pockets?'
+
+'Sugar in my pockets? Who put that into your head?'
+
+'Nobody didn't put it in my head. Don't you put any in your pocket?'
+
+'No. Sugar, indeed! I'm not a parrot.'
+
+Archie roared with laughter.
+
+'You're not a parrot!' he said, laughing loudly. 'Wouldn't it be fun if
+you was a parrot. I wish you was a parrot.'
+
+'Don't be foolish, Archie.'
+
+'Do parrots keep sugar in their pockets?'
+
+'Don't be silly.'
+
+'Have parrots got pockets?'
+
+'Play with your soldiers, dear.'
+
+'Do parrots have pockets?'
+
+'Don't be a nuisance.'
+
+'Why did you say parrots had sugar in their pockets, then?'
+
+'I never said anything of the kind.'
+
+'What do parrots have pockets for?'
+
+'Do you think your mother will be long?'
+
+'Will mother know about parrots and pockets?'
+
+'You're talking nonsense, Archie. Now be good. Your mother said you
+would be good.'
+
+'Is it naughty to talk about parrots--with pockets?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Then you're very naughty. You talk about them.'
+
+'Will you stop talking about them if I get you some sugar?' said Bruce,
+feeling frightfully ashamed of himself, but fearing for his reason if
+Archie said any more on the subject.
+
+'I'm a good boy. I'll stop talking about parrots if you get me some
+sugar.'
+
+He put his hand in his father's with a most winning smile.
+
+'I'll show you where it is. It's in the kitchen. It's in the nursery,
+too, but it's nicer sugar in the kitchen.'
+
+'I oughtn't to give it you. Your mother will be angry.'
+
+'Do parrots have pockets?'
+
+Bruce jumped up and went with the child, and told the cook to give him
+six lumps of sugar.
+
+She seemed surprised, amused, and doubtful.
+
+'Do as I tell you at once,' Bruce said sternly.
+
+They came back, and Archie was silent and happy until Edith returned.
+
+When she saw traces of sugar on his face and dress she said--
+
+'Oh, Archie! What on earth did your father give you sugar for?'
+
+'For talking about parrots,' said Archie.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Bruce's Play
+
+
+'Edith,' said Bruce, 'come in here. I want to speak to you. Shut the
+door.'
+
+She shut it, and stood waiting.
+
+'Don't stand there. Come and sit down.... Now listen to me very
+seriously. I want to ask you a question.'
+
+'How would you like me to be making about £5,000 a year--at least?'
+
+'Need you ask?'
+
+'And all by my own talent--not by anybody else's help.'
+
+'It would be jolly,' she said, trying not to look doubtful.
+
+'Jolly! I should think it would. Now I'll tell you my scheme--what I've
+made up my mind to do.'
+
+'What?'
+
+'I'm going to write a play.'
+
+Edith controlled her expression, and said it was a very good idea.
+
+'_Such_ a play,' said Bruce. 'A really strong, powerful piece--all wit
+and cynicism like Bernard Shaw--_but_, full of heart and feeling and
+sentiment, and that sort of rot. It'll have all sorts of jolly fantastic
+ideas--like _Peter Pan_ and _The Beloved Vagabond_, but without the
+faults of Locke and Barrie--and it's going to be absolutely realistic
+and natural in parts--like the Sicilians, you know. However, I don't
+mind telling you that my model--you must have a model, more or less--is
+going to be Bernard Shaw. I like his style.'
+
+'It's the most lovely idea I ever heard of. What theatre are you going
+to produce it at?'
+
+'That depends. For some things I should prefer His Majesty's, but I'm
+rather fond of the Haymarket, too. However, if the terms were better, I
+might give it to Charlie Hawtrey, or even Alexander, if he offered me
+exceptionally good royalties.'
+
+'Oh! Are you going to have it put up to auction?'
+
+'Don't talk nonsense. What do you mean? No, I shall simply send a copy
+round to all the principal people and see what they say.'
+
+He walked up and down the room once or twice.
+
+'The reason I'm so determined not to let Bourchier have it is simply
+this: he doesn't realise my idea--he never could. Mind you, I believe he
+would do his best, but his Personality is against him. Do you
+see, Edith?'
+
+'I see your point. But--'
+
+'There's no reason why it shouldn't be quite as great a success as _The
+Merry Widow_.'
+
+'Oh, is it going to be a comic opera?'
+
+'Why, of course not. Don't I tell you it's to be a powerful play of real
+life.'
+
+'Will you tell me the plot?'
+
+He smiled rather fatuously. 'I'll tell you some of the plot, certainly,
+if you like--at least, I'll tell you how it's going to begin.'
+
+'Do go on!'--
+
+'Well, I must tell you it begins in a rather unconventional
+way--entirely different from most plays; but that'll make it all the
+more striking, and I _won't_ alter it--mind that--not for anybody. Well,
+the curtain goes up, and you find two servants--do you see?--talking
+over their master and mistress. The maid--her name's Parker--is dusting
+the photographs and things, and she says to the manservant something
+about "The mistress does seem in a tantrum, doesn't she, Parker?" So
+he says--'
+
+'But are they both called Parker?' asked Edith.
+
+'Yes--no--of course not. I forgot; it's the man that's called Parker.
+But that isn't the point. Well, they talk, and gradually let out a
+little of the plot. Then two friends of the hero come in, and--oh, I
+can't bother to tell you any more now; but isn't it rather a good idea,
+eh? So new!'
+
+'Capital! Splendid! Such a lovely original idea. I do wish you'd be
+quick and do it, Bruce.'
+
+'I am being quick; but you mustn't be in too great a hurry; you must
+give me time.'
+
+'Will it be ready in time for the season--I mean after Easter?'
+
+'What! in a fortnight? How could they be ready to produce it in a
+fortnight, especially with the Easter holidays between? It won't be
+long, that I can promise you. I'm a quick worker.'
+
+He waited a minute, and then said--
+
+'You mustn't be depressed, Edith dear, if I get a little slating from
+some of the critics, you know. You can't expect them all to appreciate a
+new writer at once. And it really won't make any difference to the
+success if my play pleases the public, which I don't mind telling you I
+know it's sure to do; because, you see, it'll have all the good points
+and none of the bad ones of all the successful plays of the last six
+years. That's my dodge. That's how I do it.'
+
+'I see.'
+
+'Won't it be a joke when the governor and the mater are there on the
+first night? They'll be frightfully pleased. You must try and prevent
+the mater swaggering about it too much, you know. She's such a dear,
+she's sure to be absurdly proud of it. And it'll be a bit of a score off
+the governor in a way, too. He never would have thought I could do it,
+would he? And Raggett will be surprised, too. You must have a ripping
+new dress for the first night, Edith, old girl.'
+
+'I think I shall have Liberty satin, dear--that new shade of blue--it
+wears better than Nattier. But I won't order it just yet. You haven't
+written the first scene, have you?'
+
+'The first scene? No! Plays aren't done like that. The chief thing about
+a play like this is to get a scenario.'
+
+'Oh! Isn't that where the people sit?'
+
+'Don't be ridiculous! You're thinking of the auditorium. I mean the
+skeleton of the play. That's what I shall send round to the managers.
+They can see what it's going to be like at once.'
+
+'How many acts will it be?'
+
+'Four.'
+
+'And have you settled on the name?'
+
+'Yes, as a matter of fact I have settled on a name; but don't you go
+giving it away. It's rather an original name. It would do if I developed
+the comedy interest just the same and just as well as if I made the
+chief point the tragic part. It's going to be called _You Never Know_.
+Good name, isn't it?'
+
+'It's a splendid name. But isn't it a tiny bit like something else?'
+
+'How unsympathetic you are! The fact is you don't understand. That's
+what it is.'
+
+'Oh, I do sympathise immensely, Bruce, and I'm sure you'll have a great
+success. What fun it will be! Are you going to work at it this
+afternoon?'
+
+'Why, no! not _this_ afternoon. I'm rather tired out with thinking. I
+think I shall go and look in at the club.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Hyacinth Waits
+
+
+'He's coming this afternoon, Anne,' Hyacinth said. 'See that I'm really
+alone today--I mean that I'm out to everyone.'
+
+'You think, then, that he really will propose today?'
+
+'Don't be so horribly explicit. Don't you think his having to go the
+other day--because of Lady Cannon--would lead to a sort of crisis? I
+mean, either he wouldn't come here again, or else--'
+
+'I suppose it would,' said Anne. 'At least, it would if he had some
+glimmering of his own intentions. But he's in such a very
+undecided state.'
+
+'Well, don't let's worry about his intentions. At any rate, he's coming
+to see me. The question is, what shall I wear?'
+
+'It doesn't matter in the least. You attach a ridiculous amount of
+importance to dress.'
+
+'Perhaps; but I must wear something. So what shall it be?'
+
+'Well, if you want to look prepared for a proposal--so as to give him a
+sort of hint--you'd better wear your pale mauve dress. It's becoming,
+and it looks festive and spring-like.'
+
+'Oh, Anne! Why, it's ever so much too smart! It would be quite
+ridiculous. Just like you, advising pale mauve _crêpe de Chine_ and
+Irish lace for a quiet visit in the afternoon from a friend!'
+
+'Oh! all right. Then wear your blue tailor-made dress--and the little
+boots with the cloth tops.'
+
+'Oh, good heavens, Anne! I'm not going for a bicycle ride. Because I'm
+not got up for a garden-party, it doesn't follow I must be dressed for
+mountain-climbing. Cecil hates sensible-looking clothes.'
+
+'Then I should think anything you've got would do. Or do you want to get
+a new dress?'
+
+'Of course I want to get a new dress, but not for this afternoon. It
+wouldn't be possible. Besides, I don't think it's a good plan to wear
+something different every time you see a person. It looks so
+extravagant.'
+
+'Wear your black and white, then.'
+
+'No, it isn't _intime_ enough, and the material's too rough--it's a hard
+dress.'
+
+'Oh! Funny, I had the impression you had more clothes than you knew what
+to do with, and you don't seem to have anything fit to wear.'
+
+'Why, of course, I shall wear my blue voile. How on earth could I wear
+anything else? How silly you are, Anne!'
+
+'Well, if you knew that all the time, why did you ask me?'
+
+'Are there plenty of flowers in the studio?'
+
+'Yes; but I'll get some more if you like.'
+
+'No, no; don't have too many. It looks too _arranged_.'
+
+She looked at the clock.
+
+'It won't be five just yet,' said Anne. 'It's only eleven.'
+
+'Yes; that's the awful part. What on earth shall I do till then?'
+
+'Whatever I suggested you would do the reverse.'
+
+'Shall I go for a long drive in the motor?'
+
+'That's a good idea.'
+
+'But it's a very windy day, and I might get neuralgia--not feel up to
+the mark.'
+
+'So you might. I think, perhaps, the best thing for you would be to have
+your hair waved.'
+
+'How can I sit still to have my hair waved? Besides, it makes it look
+too stiff--like a hairdresser's dummy.'
+
+'Ah! there is that. Then why not do something useful--go and be
+manicured?'
+
+'I'm afraid I shouldn't have the patience today.'
+
+'I suppose what you'd really like,' said Anne, 'would be to see Edith
+Ottley.'
+
+'No, I shouldn't. Not till tomorrow. I don't want to see anybody,' said
+Hyacinth.
+
+'Well, all right. I'm going out.'
+
+'Oh, but I can't bear to be alone.'
+
+'Then I scarcely see ...'
+
+'This afternoon especially, Anne. You must stay with me till about a
+quarter of an hour before I expect him. The horrible agony of waiting is
+so frightful! It makes me feel so ill. But I don't want you to stay
+beyond the time I expect him, in case he's late. Because then I suffer
+so much that I couldn't bear you to see it.'
+
+'I see. How jolly it must be to be in love! You _do_ seem to have a good
+time.'
+
+'When one has the slightest hope, Anne, it's simply too awful. Of
+course, if one hasn't, one bears it.'
+
+'And if one has no encouragement, I suppose one gets over it?'
+
+'I have a presentiment that everything will be all right today,' said
+Hyacinth. 'Is that a bad sign?'
+
+'There are no good signs, in your present state,' answered Anne.
+
+It was about half-past four, and Hyacinth in the blue dress, was sitting
+in the studio, where she could see both the window and the clock. Anne,
+by the fire, was watching her.
+
+'You seem very fairly calm, Hyacinth.'
+
+'I am calm,' she said. 'I am; quite calm. Except that my heart is
+beating so fast that I can hardly breathe, that I have horrible kinds of
+shivers and a peculiar feeling in my throat, I'm quite all right. Now,
+just fancy if I had to pretend I wasn't in suspense! If I had no-one to
+confide in!... Do you think he's mistaken the day? Do you think he
+thinks it's Thursday instead of Tuesday?'
+
+'That's not likely.'
+
+'I'm glad I feel so cool and calm. How ashamed I should be if he ever
+knew that I was so agitated!'
+
+'Who knows, perhaps he's feeling as uncomfortable as you are?'
+
+'Oh, no, no! There's no hope of that.... Will he telephone and put it
+off, do you think, at the last minute?'
+
+'I shouldn't think so.'
+
+'Are there any little pink cakes?'
+
+'Heaps. Far more than will ever be eaten.'
+
+'Now, don't talk to me, Anne. I'm going to read for a quarter of an
+hour.'
+
+She took up a novel and read two pages, then looked up at the clock and
+turned pale.
+
+'It's five. Is that clock fast?'
+
+'No; listen, the church clock's striking. Good-bye.'
+
+
+Anne went, and Hyacinth kissed her hand to her and arranged her hair in
+the mirror. She then sat down and resolved to be perfectly quiet.
+
+
+Ten minutes slowly ticked away, then Hyacinth went to the window, saying
+to herself that it was an unlucky thing to do. She did not remain there
+long, then walked round and round the room. Several cabs passed, each of
+which she thought was going to stop. Then she sat down again, looking
+cool and smiling, carelessly holding a book.... Each time the cab
+passed. It was half-past five, rather late under the circumstances. She
+was angry. She resolved to be very cold to him when he first came in,
+or--no, she wouldn't be cold, she would pretend she didn't know he was
+late--hadn't noticed it; or she would chaff him about it, and say she
+would never wait again. She took the letter from her pocket and read it
+again. It said:--
+
+'DEAR MISS VERNEY, 'May I come and see you at five o'clock tomorrow
+afternoon?
+
+'Yours,
+
+'CECIL REEVE.'
+
+
+Its very brevity had shown it was something urgent, but perhaps he would
+come to break off their friendship; since the awkwardness of Lady
+Cannon's visit, he must have been thinking that things couldn't go on
+like this. Then she began to recapitulate details, arguing to herself
+with all the cold, hard logic of passion.
+
+At Lord Selsey's afternoon she had given herself away by her anger, by
+the jealousy she showed, and had told him never to come and see her
+again. Immediately after that had been their meeting at the National
+Gallery, where Cecil had followed her and sought her out. Then they had
+those two delightful walks in Kensington Gardens, in which he had really
+seemed to 'like' her so much. Then the pleasant intimate little lunch,
+after which Lady Cannon had called.... In the course of these meetings
+he had told her that he and Mrs Raymond had quarrelled, that she would
+never see him again. She had felt that he was drifting to her.... How
+strangely unlike love affairs in books hers had been! In all respectable
+novels it was the man who fell in love first. No-one knew by experience
+better than Hyacinth how easily that might happen, how very often it
+did. But she, who was proud, reserved, and a little shy with all her
+expansiveness, had simply fallen hopelessly in love with him at first
+sight. It was at that party at the Burlingtons. She realised now that
+she had practically thought of nothing else since. Probably she was
+spoilt, for she had not foreseen any difficulty; she had had always far
+more admirers than she cared for, and her difficulties had usually been
+in trying to get rid of them. He seemed to like her, but that was all.
+Mrs Raymond was, of course, the reason, but Mrs Raymond was over. She
+looked up at the clock again.
+
+Ten minutes to six. Perhaps he had made it up with Mrs Raymond?... For
+the next ten minutes she suffered extraordinary mental tortures, then
+her anger consoled her a little. He had treated her too rudely! It was
+amazing--extraordinary! He was not worth caring for. At any rate, it
+showed he didn't care for her.... If it was some unavoidable accident,
+couldn't he have telephoned or telegraphed?... No; it was one of those
+serious things that one can only write about. He was with Mrs Raymond,
+she felt sure of that. But Mrs Raymond didn't like him.... Perhaps,
+after all, he had only been detained in some extraordinary way, she
+might hear directly....
+
+She went up to her room, and was slightly consoled for the moment to
+find the clock there five minutes slower than the one in the
+drawing-room. She again arranged her hair and went into the hall, where
+she found two or three cards of people who had called, and been told she
+was out--an irritating detail--for nothing! Then she went back to
+the studio.
+
+Even to be in the place where she had been waiting for him was
+something, it gave her a little illusion that he would be here again....
+Could he really be an hour and a quarter late? It was just possible.
+
+She heard a ring. Every sign of anxiety disappeared from her face. She
+was beaming, and got back into the old attitude, holding the book. She
+could hear her heart beating while there was some parley in the hall.
+Unable to bear it any more, she opened the door. It was someone with
+a parcel.
+
+'What is it?'
+
+'It's only the new candle-shades, miss. Shall I bring them in for you to
+see?'
+
+'No, thank you....'
+
+Candle-shades!
+
+She put her hands over her eyes and summoned all her pride. Probably the
+very butler and her maid knew perfectly well she had been waiting at
+home alone for Mr Reeve. She cared absolutely nothing what they thought;
+but she felt bitter, revengeful to him. It was cruel.
+
+Why did she care so much? She remembered letters and scenes with other
+people--people whose sufferings about her she felt always inclined to
+laugh at. She couldn't believe in it. Love in books had always seemed to
+her, although intensely interesting, just a trifle absurd. She couldn't
+realise it till now.
+
+Another ring. Perhaps it was he after all! ...
+
+The same position. The book, the bright blue eyes....
+
+The door opened; Anne came in. It was striking seven o'clock.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Eugenia
+
+
+Meanwhile Cecil had received a note from his uncle, asking him to go and
+see him. He decided he would do so on his way to see Hyacinth.
+
+For many days now he had not seen Mrs Raymond. She had answered no
+letters, and been always 'out' to him.
+
+As he walked along, he wondered what had become of her, and tried to
+think he didn't care.
+
+'I have news for you, Cecil,' said his uncle; 'but, first, you really
+have made up your mind, haven't you, to try your luck with Hyacinth?
+What a pretty perfumed name it is--just like her.'
+
+'I suppose I shall try.'
+
+'Good. I'm delighted to hear it. Then in a very short time I shall hear
+that you're as happy as I am.'
+
+'As you, Uncle Ted?'
+
+'Look at this house, Cecil. It's full of Things; it wants looking after.
+I want looking after.... I am sure you wouldn't mind--wouldn't be vexed
+to hear I was going to marry again?'
+
+'Rather not. I'm glad. It must be awfully lonely here sometimes. But I
+am surprised, I must say. Everybody looks upon you as a confirmed
+widower, Uncle Ted.'
+
+'Well, so I have been a confirmed widower--for eighteen years. I think
+that's long enough.'
+
+Cecil waited respectfully.
+
+Then his uncle said abruptly--
+
+'I saw Mrs Raymond yesterday.'
+
+Cecil started and blushed.
+
+'Did you? Where did you meet her?'
+
+'I didn't meet her. I went to see her. I spent two hours with her.'
+
+Cecil stared in silent amazement.
+
+'It was my fourth visit,' said Lord Selsey.
+
+'You spent all that time talking over my affairs?'
+
+His uncle gave a slight smile. 'Indeed not, Cecil. After the first few
+minutes of the first visit, frankly, we said very little about you.'
+
+'But I don't understand.'
+
+'I've been all this time trying to persuade her to something--against
+her judgement. I've been trying to persuade her to marry.'
+
+'To marry me?'
+
+'No. To marry me. And I've succeeded.'
+
+'I congratulate you,' said Cecil, in a cold, hard voice.
+
+'You're angry, my boy. It's very natural; but let me explain to you how
+it happened.'
+
+He paused, and then went on: 'Of course, for years I've wished for the
+right woman here. But I never saw her. I thought I never should. That
+day she came here--the musical party--the moment I looked at her, I saw
+that she was meant for me, not for you.'
+
+'I call it a beastly shame,' said Cecil.
+
+'It isn't. It's absolutely right. You know perfectly well she never
+would have cared for you in the way you wished.'
+
+Cecil could not deny that, but he said sarcastically--
+
+'So you fell in love with her at first sight?'
+
+'Oh no, I didn't. I'm not in love with her now. But I think she's
+beautiful. I mean she has a beautiful soul--she has atmosphere, she has
+something that I need. I could live in the same house with her in
+perfect harmony for ever. I could teach her to understand my Things. She
+does already by instinct.'
+
+'You're marrying her as a kind of custodian for your collection?'
+
+'A great deal, of course. And, then, I couldn't marry a young girl. It
+would be ridiculous. A society woman--a regular beauty--would jar on me
+and irritate me. She would think herself more important than my
+pictures.'
+
+Cecil could hardly help a smile, angry as he was.
+
+'And Mrs Raymond,' went on Lord Selsey, 'is delightfully unworldly--and
+yet sensible. Of course, she's not a bit in love with me either. But she
+likes me awfully, and I persuaded her. It was all done by argument.'
+
+'I could never persuade her,' said Cecil bitterly.
+
+'Of course not. She has such a sense of form. She saw the
+incongruity.... I needn't ask you to forgive me, old boy. I know, of
+course, there's nothing to forgive. You've got over your fancy, or you
+will very soon. I haven't injured you in any sort of way, and I didn't
+take her away from you. She's ten years older than you, and nine years
+younger than me.... You're still my heir just the same. This will make
+no difference, and you'll soon be reconciled. I'm sure of that.'
+
+'Of course, I'm not such a brute as not to be glad, for her,' said Cecil
+slowly, after a slight struggle. 'It seems a bit rough, though, at
+first.' He held out his hand.
+
+'Thanks, dear old boy. You see I'm right. You can't be angry with me....
+You see it's a peculiar case. It won't be like an ordinary marriage, a
+young married couple and so on, nor a _mariage de convenance_, either,
+in the ordinary sense. Here are two lonely people intending to live
+solitary lives. Suddenly, you--_most_ kindly, I must say--introduce us.
+I, with my great experience and my instinctive _flair_, see immediately
+that this is the right woman in the right place. I bother her until she
+consents--and there you are.'
+
+'I hope you'll be happy.'
+
+They shook hands in silence, and Cecil got into a hansom and drove
+straight to Mrs Raymond's. He was furious.
+
+
+While Hyacinth, whose very existence he had forgotten in the shock and
+anger of this news, was feeling, with the agonising clairvoyance of
+love, that Cecil was with Mrs Raymond, she was perfectly right.
+
+Today Eugenia was at home, and did not refuse to see him.
+
+'I see you know,' she remarked coolly as he came in.
+
+Cecil had controlled his emotion when with his uncle, but seeing Mrs
+Raymond again in the dismal little old drawing-room dealt him a terrible
+blow. He saw, only too vividly, the picture of his suave, exquisite
+uncle, standing out against this muddled, confused background, in the
+midst of decoration which was one long disaster and furniture that was
+one desperate failure. To think that the owner of Selsey House had spent
+hours here! The thought was jealous agony.
+
+'I must congratulate you,' he said coldly.
+
+'Thank you, Cecil.'
+
+'I thought you were never going to marry again?' he said sarcastically.
+
+'I never do, as a rule. But this is an exception. And it isn't going to
+be like an ordinary marriage. We shall each have complete freedom. He
+persuaded me--to look after that lovely house. It will give me an object
+in life. And besides, Cecil,' she was laughing, 'think--to be your aunt!
+The privilege!'
+
+He seized her by the shoulders. She laughed still more, and put one hand
+on the bell, at which he released her. He walked away so violently that
+he knocked down a screen.
+
+'There, that will do,' said Eugenia, picking it up. 'You've made your
+little scene, and shown your little temper, and that's enough. Sit
+down,' she commanded.
+
+Cecil sat down, feeling a complete fool.
+
+'Look here. I daresay that it's a little annoying for you, at first,
+especially as you introduced us; but really, when you come to think it
+over, there's no law of etiquette, or any other that I know of, which
+compels me to refuse the uncle of a young man who has done me the honour
+to like me. Oh, Cecil, don't be absurd!'
+
+'Are you in love with him?'
+
+'No. But I think he will be very pleasant--not worrying and
+fidgeting--so calm and kind. I refused at first, Cecil. People always
+want what they can't get, and if it's any satisfaction to you, I don't
+mind confessing that I have had, for years, a perfect mania for somebody
+else. A hopeless case for at least three reasons: he's married, he's in
+love with someone else (not even counting his wife, who counts a great
+deal) and, if he hadn't either of these preoccupations, he would never
+look at me. So I've given it up. I've made up my mind to forget it. Your
+uncle will help me, and give me something else to think about.'
+
+'Who was the man?' Cecil asked. It was some slight satisfaction to know
+that she also had had a wasted affection.
+
+'Why should I tell you? I shall not tell you. Well, I will tell you.
+It's Sir Charles Cannon.'
+
+'Old Cannon?'
+
+'Yes; it was a sort of mad hero-worship. I never could account for it. I
+always thought him the most wonderful person. He hasn't the faintest
+idea of it, and never will; and now don't let's speak of him again.'
+
+The name reminded Cecil of Hyacinth. He started violently, remembering
+his appointment. What must she have thought of him?
+
+'Good-bye, Eugenia,' he said.
+
+As he held her hand he felt, in a sense, as if it was in some strange
+way, after all, a sort of triumph for him, a score that Lord Selsey had
+appreciated her so wonderfully.
+
+
+As he left the house it struck seven. What was he to do about Hyacinth?
+
+
+That evening Hyacinth received a large basket of flowers and a letter,
+in which Cecil threw himself on her mercy, humbling himself to the
+earth, and imploring her to let him come and explain and apologise next
+day. He entreated her to be kind enough to let him off waiting till a
+conventional hour, and to allow him to call in the morning.
+
+He received a kind, forgiving answer, and then spent the most miserable
+night of his life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Bruce has Influenza
+
+
+All women love news of whatever kind; even bad news gives them merely a
+feeling of pleasurable excitement, unless it is something that affects
+them or those they love personally.
+
+Edith was no exception to the rule, but she knew that Bruce, on the
+contrary, disliked it; if it were bad he was angry and said it served
+the people right, while if it were good he thought they didn't deserve
+it and disapproved strongly. Bruce spent a great deal of his time and
+energy in disapproving; generally of things and people that were no
+concern of his. As is usually the case, this high moral attitude was
+caused by envy. Bruce would have been much surprised to hear it, but
+envy was the keynote of his character, and he saw everything that
+surrounded him through its vague mist.
+
+All newspapers made him furious. He regarded everything in them as a
+personal affront; from the fashionable intelligence, describing
+political dinners in Berkeley Square or dances in Curzon Street, where
+he thought he should have been present in the important character of
+host, to notices of plays--plays which he felt he could have written so
+well. Even sensational thefts irritated him; perhaps he unconsciously
+fancied that the stolen things (Crown jewels, and so forth) should by
+rights have been his, and that he would have known how to take care of
+them. 'Births, Marriages, and Deaths' annoyed him intensely. If he read
+that Lady So-and-So had twin sons, the elder of whom would be heir to
+the title and estates, he was disgusted to think of the injustice that
+he hadn't a title and estates for Archie to inherit, and he mentally
+held the newly-arrived children very cheap, feeling absolutely certain
+that they would compare most unfavourably with his boy, excepting, of
+course, in the accident of their worldly circumstances. Also, although
+he was proud of having married, and fond of Edith, descriptions of
+'Society Weddings of the Week' drove him absolutely wild--wild to think
+that he and Edith, who deserved it, hadn't had an Archbishop, choirboys,
+guardsmen with crossed swords to walk under, and an amethyst brooch from
+a member of the Royal Family at their wedding. New discoveries in
+science pained him, for he knew that he would have thought of them long
+before, and carried them out much better, had he only had the time.
+
+Bruce had had influenza, and when Edith came in with her news, she could
+not at once make up her mind to tell him, fearing his anger.
+
+He was lying on the sofa with the paper, grumbling at the fuss made
+about the Sicilian players, of whom he was clearly jealous.
+
+She sat down by his side and agreed with him.
+
+'I'm much worse since you went out. You know the usual results of
+influenza, don't you? Heart failure, or nervous depression liable to
+lead to suicide.'
+
+'But you're much better, dear. Dr Braithwaite said it was wonderful how
+quickly you threw it off.'
+
+'Threw it off! Yes, but that's only because I have a marvellous
+constitution and great will-power. If I happened to have had less
+strength and vitality, I might easily have been dead by now. I wish
+you'd go and fetch me some cigarettes, dear. I have none left.'
+
+She got up and went to the door.
+
+'What are you fidgeting about, Edith?' said he. '_Can't_ you keep still?
+It's not at all good for a convalescent to have a restless person
+with him.'
+
+'Why, I was only going to fetch--'
+
+'I know you were; but you should learn repose, dear. First you go out
+all the morning, and when you come home you go rushing about the room.'
+
+She sat down again and decided to tell him.
+
+'You'll be glad to hear,' she said, 'that Hyacinth and Cecil Reeve are
+engaged. They are to be married in the autumn.'
+
+Guessing she expected him to display interest, he answered irritably--
+
+'I don't care. It has nothing to do with me.'
+
+'No, of course not.'
+
+'I never heard anything so idiotic as having a wedding in the autumn. A
+most beastly time, I think--November fogs.'
+
+'I heard something else,' said Edith, 'which surprised me much more.
+Fancy, Lord Selsey's going to be married--to Mrs Raymond. Isn't that
+extraordinary?'
+
+'Lord Selsey--a widower! Disgusting! I thought he pretended to be so
+fond of his first wife.'
+
+'He was, dear, I believe. But she died eighteen years ago, and--'
+
+'Instead of telling me all this tittle-tattle it would be much better if
+you did as I asked you, Edith, and fetched me the cigarettes. I've asked
+you several times. Of course I don't want to make a slave of you. I'm
+not one of those men who want their wives to be a drudge. But, after
+all, they're only in the next room. It isn't a _very_ hard task! And I'm
+very weak, or I'd go myself.'
+
+She ran out and brought them back before he could stop her again.
+
+'Who is this Mrs Raymond?' he then asked.
+
+'Oh, she's a very nice woman--a widow. Really quite suitable in age to
+Lord Selsey. Not young. She's not a bit pretty and not in his set at
+all. He took the most violent fancy to her at first sight, it seems. She
+had vowed never to marry again, but he persuaded her.'
+
+'Well,' said Bruce, striking a match, 'they didn't consult me! They must
+go their own way. I'm sorry for them, of course. Lord Selsey always
+seemed to me a very agreeable chap, so it seems rather a pity. At the
+same time, I suppose it's a bad thing--in the worldly sense--for Reeve,
+and _that's_ satisfactory.'
+
+'Oh! I think he's all right, said Edith, and she smiled thoughtfully.
+
+'You're always smiling, Edith,' he complained. 'Particularly when I have
+something to annoy me.'
+
+'Am I? I believe I read in the "Answers to Correspondents" in _Home
+Chirps_ that a wife should always have a bright smile if her husband
+seemed depressed.'
+
+'Good heavens! How awful! Why, it would be like living with a Cheshire
+cat!'
+
+Edith warmly began to defend herself from the accusation, when Bruce
+stopped her by saying that his temperature had gone up, and asking her
+to fetch the clinical thermometer.
+
+Having snatched it from her and tried it, he turned pale and said in a
+hollow voice--
+
+'Telephone to Braithwaite. At once. Say it's urgent. Poor little Edith!'
+
+'What is it?' she cried in a frightened voice.
+
+'I'd better not tell you,' he said, trying to hide it.
+
+'Tell me--oh! tell me!'
+
+'It's a hundred and nineteen. Now don't waste time. You meant no harm,
+dear, but you worried and excited me. It isn't your fault. Don't blame
+yourself. Of course, you _would_ do it.'
+
+'Oh, I know what it is,' cried Edith. 'I dipped it in boiling water
+before I gave it to you.'
+
+'Idiot! You might have broken it!' said Bruce.
+
+The explanation seemed to annoy him very much; nevertheless he often
+referred afterwards to the extraordinary way his temperature used to
+jump about, which showed what a peculiarly violent, virulent, dangerous
+form of influenza he had had, and how wonderful it was he had thrown it
+off, in spite of Edith's inexperienced, not to say careless, nursing,
+entirely by his own powerful will and indomitable courage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+'Engaged'
+
+
+Lady Cannon sat in her massive, florid clothes, that always seemed part
+of her massive, florid furniture, and to have the same expression of
+violent, almost ominous conventionality, without the slightest touch of
+austerity to tone it down. Her throat and figure seemed made solely to
+show off dog-collars and long necklaces; her head seemed constructed
+specially for the wearing of a dark red royal fringe and other
+ornaments. Today she was in her most cheerful and condescending mood, in
+fact she was what is usually called in a good temper. It was a great
+satisfaction to her that Hyacinth was at last settled; and she decided
+to condone the rather wilful way in which the engagement had been
+finally arranged without reference to her. With the touch of somewhat
+sickly sentiment common to most hard women, she took great pleasure in a
+wedding (if it were only moderately a suitable one), and was prepared to
+be arch and sympathetic with the engaged couple whom she expected today
+to pay her a formal visit.
+
+She was smiling to herself as she turned a bracelet on her left wrist,
+and wondered if she and Sir Charles need really run to a tiara, since
+after all they weren't Hyacinth's parents, and was wishing they could
+get off with giving her a certain piece of old lace that had been in the
+family for years, and could never be arranged to wear, when Sir
+Charles came in.
+
+'Ah, Charles, that's right. I wish you to be here to welcome Hyacinth
+and her fiancé. I'm expecting them directly.'
+
+'I can't possibly be here,' he said. 'I have a most urgent appointment.
+I've done all the right things. I've written to them, and gone to see
+Hyacinth, and we've asked them to dinner. No more is necessary. Of
+course, let them understand that I--I quite approve, and all that. And I
+really think that's quite enough.'
+
+He spoke rather irritably.
+
+'Really, Charles, how morose you've grown. One would think you disliked
+to see young people happy together. I always think it's such a pretty
+sight. Especially as it's a regular love match.'
+
+'No doubt; no doubt. Charming! But I have an appointment; I must go at
+once.'
+
+'With whom, may I ask?'
+
+'With St Leonards,' he answered unblushingly.
+
+'Oh! Oh well, of course, they'll understand you couldn't keep the Duke
+waiting. I'll mention it; I'll explain. I shall see a little more of
+Hyacinth just now, Charles. It'll be the right thing. An engaged girl
+ought to be chaperoned by a connection of the family--of some weight.
+Not a person like that Miss Yeo. I shall arrange to drive out with
+Hyacinth and advise her about her trousseau, and....'
+
+'Yes; do as you like, but spare me the details.'
+
+Lady Cannon sighed.
+
+'Ah, Charles, you have no romance. Doesn't the sight of these happy
+young people bring back the old days?'
+
+The door shut. Lady Cannon was alone.
+
+'He has no soul,' she said to herself, using a tiny powder-puff.
+
+
+The young people, as they were now called, had had tea with her in her
+magnificent drawing-room. She had said and done everything that was
+obvious, kind, and tedious. She had held Hyacinth's hand, and shaken a
+forefinger at Cecil, and then she explained to them that it would be
+much more the right thing now for them to meet at her house, rather than
+at Hyacinth's--a recommendation which they accepted with complete
+(apparent) gravity, and in fact she seemed most anxious to take entire
+possession of them--to get the credit of them, as it were, as a social
+sensation.
+
+'And now,' she said, 'what do you think I'm going to do? If you won't
+think me very rude' (threatening forefinger again), 'I'm going to leave
+you alone for a little while. I shan't be very long; but I have to write
+a letter, and so on, and when I come back I shall have on my bonnet, and
+I'll drive Hyacinth home.'
+
+'It's most awfully kind of you, Auntie, but Cecil's going to drive me
+back.'
+
+'No, no, no! I insist, I insist! This dear child has been almost like a
+daughter to me, you know,' pressing a lace-edged little handkerchief,
+scented with Ess Bouquet, to a dry little eye. 'You mustn't take her
+away all at once! Will you be very angry if I leave you?' and laughing
+in what she supposed to be an entirely charming manner, she glided, as
+though on castors, in her fringed, embroidered, brocaded dress from
+the room.
+
+'Isn't she magnificent?' said Cecil.
+
+'You know she has a reputation for being remarkable for sound sense,'
+said Hyacinth.
+
+'Well, she's shown it at last!'
+
+She laughed.
+
+He took a stroll round the room. It was so high, so enormous, with so
+much satin on the walls, so many looking-glasses, so much white paint,
+so many cabinets full of Dresden china, that it recalled, by the very
+extremity of the contrast of its bright hideousness, that other ugly,
+dismal little room, also filled with false gods, of a cheap and very
+different kind, in which he had had so much poignant happiness.
+
+'Hyacinth,' he said, rather quaintly, 'do you know what I'm doing? I
+want to kiss you, and I'm looking for a part of the room in which it
+wouldn't be blasphemous!'
+
+'You can't find one, Cecil. I couldn't--here. And her leaving us alone
+makes it all the more impossible.'
+
+The girl was seated on a stiff, blue silk settee, padded and buttoned,
+and made in a peculiar form in which three people can sit, turning their
+backs to one another. She leant her sweet face on her hand, her elbow on
+the peculiar kind of mammoth pincushion that at once combined and
+separated the three seats. (It had been known formerly as a 'lounge'--a
+peculiarly unsuitable name, as it was practically impossible not to sit
+in it bolt upright.)
+
+Cecil stood opposite and looked down at her.
+
+Happiness, and the hope of happiness, had given her beauty a different
+character. There was something touching, troubling about her. It seemed
+to him that she had everything: beauty, profane and spiritual; deep blue
+eyes, in which he could read devotion; womanly tenderness, and a
+flower-like complexion; a perfect figure, and a beautiful soul. He could
+be proud of her before the world, and he could delight in her in
+private. She appealed, he thought, to everything in a man--his vanity,
+his intellect, and his senses. The better he knew her, the more
+exquisite qualities he found in her. She was sweet, clever, good, and
+she vibrated to his every look. She was sensitive, and passionate. She
+was adorable. He was too fortunate! Then why did he think of a pale,
+tired, laughing face, with the hair dragged off the forehead, and
+Japanese eyes?... What folly! It was a recurring obsession.
+
+
+'Cecil, what are you thinking about?'
+
+'Of you.'
+
+'Do you love me? Will you always love me? Are you happy?'
+
+He made no answer, but kissed the questions from her lips, and from his
+own heart.
+
+So Lady Cannon, after rattling the handle of the door, came in in her
+bonnet, and found them, as she had expected. Then she sent Cecil away
+and drove Hyacinth home, talking without ceasing during the drive of
+bridesmaids, choral services, bishops, travelling-bags, tea-gowns, and
+pretty little houses in Mayfair.
+
+Hyacinth did not hear a single word she said, so, as Lady Cannon
+answered all her own questions in the affirmative, and warmly agreed
+with all her own remarks, she quite enjoyed herself, and decided that
+Hyacinth had immensely improved, and that Ella was to come back for
+the wedding.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+The Strange Behaviour of Anne
+
+
+It was a spring-like, warm-looking, deceptive day, with a bright sun and
+a cold east wind.
+
+Anne sat, a queer-looking figure, in an unnecessary mackintosh and a
+golf-cap, on a bench in a large open space in Hyde Park, looking
+absently at some shabby sheep. She had come here to be alone, to think.
+Soon she would be alone as much as she liked--much more. She had
+appeared quite sympathetically cheerful, almost jaunty, since her
+friend's engagement. She could not bear anyone to know her real
+feelings. Hyacinth had been most sweet, warmly affectionate to her;
+Cecil delightful. They had asked her to go and stay with them. Lady
+Cannon had graciously said, 'I suppose you will be looking out for
+another situation now, Miss Yeo?' and others had supposed she would go
+back to her father's Rectory, for a time, at any rate.
+
+Today the wedding had been definitely fixed, and she had come out to
+give way to the bitterness of her solitude.
+
+She realised that she had not the slightest affection for anyone in the
+world except Hyacinth, and that no-one had any for her, on anything like
+the same scale.
+
+Anne was a curious creature. Her own family had always been absolutely
+indifferent to her, and from her earliest youth she had hated and
+despised all men that she had known. Sir Charles Cannon was the only
+human being for whom she felt a little sympathy, instinctively knowing
+that under all his amiable congratulations he disliked Hyacinth's
+marriage almost as much as she did, and in the same way.
+
+All the strength of her feelings and affections, then, which in the
+ordinary course would have gone in other channels, Anne had lavished on
+Hyacinth. She adored her as if she had been her own child. She
+worshipped her like an idol. As a matter of fact, being quite
+independent financially, it was not as a paid companion at all that she
+had lived with her, though she chose to appear in that capacity. And,
+besides, Hyacinth herself, Anne had, in a most superlative degree,
+enjoyed the house, her little authority, the way she stood between
+Hyacinth and all tedious little practical matters. Like many a woman who
+was a virago at heart, Anne had a perfect passion for domestic matters,
+for economy, for managing a house. Of course she had always known that
+the pretty heiress was sure to marry, but she hoped the evil day would
+be put off, and somehow it annoyed her to such an acute extent because
+Hyacinth was so particularly pleased with the young man.
+
+As she told Anne every thought, and never dreamt of concealing any
+nuance or shade of her sentiments, Anne had suffered a good deal.
+
+It vexed her particularly that Hyacinth fancied Cecil so unusual, while
+she was very certain that there were thousands and thousands of
+good-looking young men in England in the same position who had the same
+education, who were precisely like him. There was not a pin to choose
+between them. How many photographs in groups Cecil had shown them, when
+she and Hyacinth went to tea at his rooms! Cecil in a group at Oxford,
+in an eleven, as a boy at school, and so forth! While Hyacinth
+delightedly recognised Cecil, Anne wondered how on earth she could tell
+one from the other. Of course, he was not a bad sort. He was rather
+clever, and not devoid of a sense of humour, but the fault Anne really
+found with him, besides his taking his privileges so much as a matter of
+course, was that there was nothing, really, to find fault with. Had he
+been ugly and stupid, she could have minded it less.
+
+Now what should she do? Of course she must remain with Hyacinth till the
+marriage, but she was resolved not to go to the wedding, although she
+had promised to do so. Both Hyacinth and Cecil really detested the
+vulgarity of a showy fashionable wedding as much as she did, and it was
+to be moderated, toned down as much as possible. But Anne couldn't stand
+it--any of it--and she wasn't going to try.
+
+As she sat there, wrapped up in her egotistic anguish, two young people,
+probably a shop-girl and her young man, passed, sauntering along,
+holding hands, and swinging their arms. Anne thought that they were, if
+anything, less odious than the others, but the stupidity of their
+happiness irritated her, and she got up to go back.
+
+She felt tired, and though it was not far, she decided, with her usual
+unnecessary economy, to go by omnibus down Park Lane.
+
+As she got out and felt for the key in her pocket, she thought how soon
+she would no longer be able to go into her paradise and find the lovely
+creature waiting to confide in her, how even now the lovely creature was
+in such a dream of preoccupied happiness that, quick as she usually was,
+she was now perfectly blind to her friend's jealousy. And, indeed, Anne
+concealed it very well. It was not ordinary jealousy either. She was
+very far from envying Hyacinth. She only hated parting with her.
+
+
+As she passed the studio she heard voices, and looked in, just as she
+was, with a momentary desire to _gêner_ them.
+
+Of course they got up, Hyacinth blushing and laughing, and entreated her
+to come in.
+
+She sat there a few minutes, hoping to chill their high spirits, then
+abruptly left them in the middle of a sentence.
+
+
+At dinner that evening she appeared quite as usual. She had taken a
+resolution.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+Bruce Convalescent
+
+
+'It's very important,' said Bruce, 'that I don't see too many people at
+a time. You must arrange the visitors carefully. Who is coming this
+afternoon?'
+
+'I don't know of anyone, except perhaps your mother, and Mr Raggett.'
+
+'Ah! Well, I can't see them both at once.'
+
+'Really? Why not?'
+
+'Why not? What a question! Because it would be a terrible fatigue for
+me. I shouldn't be able to stand it. In fact I'm not sure that I ought
+to see Raggett at all.'
+
+'Don't, then. Leave a message to say that after all you didn't feel
+strong enough.'
+
+'But, if we do that, won't he think it rather a shame, poor chap? As I
+said he could come, doesn't it seem rather hard lines for him to come
+all this way--it is a long distance, mind you--and then see nobody?'
+
+'Well, I can see him.'
+
+Bruce looked up suspiciously.
+
+'Oh, you want to see him, do you? Alone?'
+
+'Don't be silly, Bruce. I would much rather not see him.'
+
+'Indeed, and why not? I really believe you look down on him because he's
+my friend.'
+
+'Not a bit. Well, he won't be angry; you can say that you had a relapse,
+or something, and were not well enough to see him.'
+
+'Nothing of the sort. It would be very good for me; a splendid change to
+have a little intellectual talk with a man of the world. I've had too
+much women's society lately. I'm sick of it. Ring the bell, Edith.'
+
+'Of course I will, Bruce, but what for? Is it anything I can do?'
+
+'I want you to ring for Bennett to pass me my tonic.'
+
+'Really, Bruce, it's at your elbow.' She laughed.
+
+'I suppose I've changed a good deal since my illness,' said he looking
+in the glass with some complacency.
+
+'You don't look at all bad, dear.'
+
+'I know I'm better; but sometimes, just as people are recovering, they
+suddenly have a frightful relapse. Braithwaite told me I would have to
+be careful for some time.'
+
+'How long do you suppose he meant?'
+
+'I don't know--five or six years, I suppose. It's the heart. That's
+what's so risky in influenza.'
+
+'But he said your heart was all right.'
+
+'Ah, so he thinks. Doctors don't know everything. Or perhaps it's what
+he says. It would never do to tell a heart patient he was in immediate
+danger, Edith; why, he might die on the spot from the shock.'
+
+'Yes, dear; but, excuse my saying so, would he have taken me aside and
+told me you were perfectly well, and that he wouldn't come to see you
+again, if you were really in a dangerous state?'
+
+'Very possibly. I don't know that I've so very much confidence in
+Braithwaite. I practically told him so. At least I suggested to him,
+when he seemed so confident about my recovery, that he should have a
+consultation. I thought it only fair to give him every chance.'
+
+'And what did he say?'
+
+'He didn't seem to see it. Just go and get the cards, Edith, that have
+been left during my illness. It's the right thing for me to write to
+everyone, and thank them for their kindness.'
+
+'But there are no cards, dear.'
+
+'No cards?'
+
+'You see, people who knew you were ill inquired by telephone, except
+your mother, and she never leaves a card.'
+
+He seemed very disgusted.
+
+'That's it,' he said. 'That's just like life; "laugh, and the world
+laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone!" Get out of the running, and
+drop aside, and you're forgotten. And I'm a fairly popular man, too; yet
+I might have died like a dog in this wretched little flat, and not a
+card.--What's that ring?'
+
+'It must be your mother.'
+
+Bruce leant back on the sofa in a feeble attitude, gave Edith directions
+to pull the blinds a little way down, and had a vase of roses placed
+by his side.
+
+Then his mother was shown in.
+
+'Well, how is the interesting invalid? Dear boy, how well you look! How
+perfectly splendid you look!'
+
+'Hush, Mother,' said Bruce, with a faint smile, and in a very low voice.
+'Sit down, and be a little quiet. Yes, I'm much better, and getting on
+well; but I can't stand much yet.'
+
+'Dear, dear! And what did the doctor say?' she asked Edith.
+
+'He won't come any more,' said Edith.
+
+'Isn't he afraid you will be rushing out to the office too soon--
+over-working? Oh well, Edith will see that you take care of yourself.
+Where's little Archie?'
+
+'Go and see him in the nursery,' said Bruce, almost in a whisper. 'I
+can't stand a lot of people in here.'
+
+'Archie's out,' said Edith.
+
+There was another ring.
+
+'That's how it goes on all day long,' said Bruce. 'I don't know how it's
+got about, I'm sure. People never cease calling! It's an infernal
+nuisance.'
+
+'Well, it's nice to know you're not neglected,' said his mother.
+
+'Neglected? Why, it's been more like a crowded reception than an
+invalid's room.'
+
+'It's Mr Raggett,' said Edith; 'I heard his voice. Will you see him or
+not, dear?'
+
+'Yes. Presently. Take him in the other room, and when the mater goes he
+can come in here.'
+
+'I'm going now,' said Mrs Ottley; 'you mustn't have a crowd. But really,
+Bruce, you're better than you think.'
+
+'Ah, I'm glad you think so. I should hate you to be anxious.'
+
+'Your father wanted to know when you would be able to go to the office
+again.'
+
+'That entirely depends. I may be strong enough in a week or two, but I
+promised Braithwaite not to be rash for Edith's sake. Well, good-bye,
+Mother, if you must go.'
+
+She kissed him, left a box of soldiers for Archie and murmured to
+Edith--
+
+'What an angel Bruce is! So patient and brave. Perfectly well, of
+course. He has been for a week. He'll go on thinking himself ill for a
+year--the dear pet, the image of his father! If I were you, Edith, I
+think I should get ill too; it will be the only way to get him out. What
+a perfect wife you are!'
+
+'I should like to go back with you a little,' said Edith.
+
+'Well, can't you? I'm going to Harrod's, of course. I'm always going to
+Harrod's; it's the only place I ever do go. As Bruce has a friend he'll
+let you go.'
+
+Bruce made no objection. Edith regarded it as a treat to go out with her
+mother-in-law. The only person who seemed to dislike the arrangement was
+Mr Raggett. When he found he was to be left alone with Bruce, he seemed
+on the point of bursting into tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+The Wedding
+
+
+The wedding was over. Flowers, favours, fuss and fluster, incense, 'The
+Voice that breathed o'er Eden,' suppressed nervous excitement, maddening
+delay, shuffling and whispers, acute long-drawn-out boredom of the men,
+sentimental interest of the women, tears of emotion from dressmakers in
+the background, disgusted resignation on the part of people who wanted
+to be at Kempton (and couldn't hear results as soon as they wished),
+envy and jealousy, admiration for the bride, and uncontrollable smiles
+of pitying contempt for the bridegroom. How is it that the bridegroom,
+who is, after all, practically the hero of the scene, should always be
+on that day, just when he is the man of the moment, so hugely, pitiably
+ridiculous?
+
+Nevertheless, he was envied. It was said on all sides that Hyacinth
+looked beautiful, though old-fashioned people thought she was too
+self-possessed, and her smile too intelligent, and others complained
+that she was too ideal a bride--too much like a portrait by Reynolds and
+not enough like a fashion-plate in the _Lady's Pictorial_.
+
+Sir Charles had given her away with his impassive air of almost absurd
+distinction. It had been a gathering of quite unusual good looks, for
+Hyacinth had always chosen her friends almost unconsciously with a view
+to decorative effect, and there was great variety of attraction. There
+were bridesmaids in blue, choristers in red, tall women with flowery
+hats, young men in tight frock-coats and buttonholes, fresh 'flappers'
+in plaits, beauties of the future, and fascinating, battered creatures
+in Paquin dresses, beauties of the past.
+
+As to Lady Cannon, she had been divided between her desire for the
+dramatic importance of appearing in the fairly good part of the Mother
+of the Bride, and a natural, but more frivolous wish to recall to the
+memory of so distinguished a company her success as a professional
+beauty of the 'eighties, a success that clung to her with the faded
+poetical perfume of pot-pourri, half forgotten.
+
+Old joys, old triumphs ('Who is she?' from the then Prince of Wales at
+the opera, with the royal scrutiny through the opera-glass), and old
+sentiments awoke in Lady Cannon with Mendelssohn's wedding March, and,
+certainly, she was more preoccupied with her mauve toque and her
+embroidered velvet gown than with the bride, or even with her little
+Ella, who had specially come back from school at Paris for the occasion,
+who was childishly delighted with her long crook with the floating blue
+ribbon, and was probably the only person present whose enjoyment was
+quite fresh and without a cloud.
+
+Lady Cannon was touched, all the same, and honestly would have cried,
+but that, simply, her dress was really too tight. It was a pity she had
+been so obstinate with the dressmaker about her waist for this
+particular day; an inch more or less would have made so little
+difference to her appearance before the world, and such an enormous
+amount to her own comfort. 'You look lovely, Mamma--as though you
+couldn't breathe!' Ella had said admiringly at the reception.
+
+Indeed, her comparatively quiet and subdued air the whole afternoon,
+which was put down to the tender affection she felt for her husband's
+ward, was caused solely and entirely by the cut of her costume.
+
+Obscure relatives, never seen at other times, who had given glass
+screens painted with storks and water-lilies, or silver hair-brushes or
+carriage-clocks, turned up, and were pushing at the church and cynical
+at the reception. Very smart relatives, who had sent umbrella-handles
+and photograph-frames, were charming, and very anxious to get away;
+heavy relatives, who had sent cheques, stayed very late, and took it out
+of everybody in tediousness; the girls were longing for a chance to
+flirt, which did not come; young men for an opportunity to smoke, which
+did. Elderly men, their equilibrium a little upset by champagne in the
+afternoon, fell quite in love with the bride, were humorous and jovial
+until the entertainment was over, and very snappish to their wives
+driving home.
+
+Like all weddings it had left the strange feeling of futility, the
+slight sense of depression that comes to English people who have tried,
+from their strong sense of tradition, to be festive and sentimental and
+in high spirits too early in the day. The frame of mind supposed to be
+appropriate to an afternoon wedding can only be genuinely experienced by
+an Englishman at two o'clock in the morning. Hence the dreary failure of
+these exhibitions.
+
+Lord Selsey was present, very suave and cultivated, and critical, and
+delighted to see his desire realised. Mrs Raymond was not there. Edith
+looked very pretty, but rather tired. Bruce had driven her nearly mad
+with his preparations. He had evidently thought that he would be the
+observed of all observers and the cynosure of every eye. He was terribly
+afraid of being too late or too early, and at the last moment, just
+before starting, thought that he had an Attack of Heart, and nearly
+decided not to go, but recovered when Archie was found stroking his
+father's hat the wrong way, apparently under the impression that it was
+a pet animal of some kind. Bruce had been trying, as his mother called
+it, for a week, because he thought the note written to thank them for
+their present had been too casual. Poor Edith had gone through a great
+deal on the subject of the present, for Bruce was divided by so many
+sentiments on the subject. He hated spending much money, which indeed he
+couldn't afford, and yet he was most anxious for their gift to stand out
+among the others and make a sensation.
+
+He was determined above all things to be original in his choice, and
+after agonies of indecision on the subject of fish-knives and Standard
+lamps, he suddenly decided on a complete set of Dickens. But as soon as
+he had ordered it, it seemed to him pitiably flat, and he countermanded
+it. Then they spent weary hours at Liberty's, and other places of the
+kind, when Bruce declared he felt a nervous breakdown coming on, and
+left it to Edith, who sent a fan.
+
+When Hyacinth was dressed and ready to start she asked for Anne. It was
+then discovered that Miss Yeo had not been seen at all since early that
+morning, when she had come to Hyacinth's room, merely nodded and gone
+out again. It appeared that she had left the house at nine o'clock in
+her golf-cap and mackintosh, taking the key and a parcel. This had
+surprised no-one, as it was thought that she had gone to get some little
+thing for Hyacinth before dressing. She had not been seen since.
+
+Well, it was no use searching! Everyone knew her odd ways. It was
+evident that she had chosen not to be present. Hyacinth had to go
+without saying good-bye to her, but she scribbled a note full of
+affectionate reproaches. She was sorry, but it could not be helped. She
+was disappointed, but she would see her when she came back. After all,
+at such a moment, she really couldn't worry about Anne.
+
+And so, pursued by rice and rejoicings--and ridicule from the little
+boys in the street by the awning--the newly-married couple drove to the
+station, '_en route_,' as the papers said, with delightful vagueness,
+'_for the Continent_.'
+
+
+What did they usually talk about when alone?
+
+Cecil wondered.
+
+The only thing he felt clearly, vividly, and definitely was a furious
+resentment against Lord Selsey.
+
+'Do you love me, Cecil? Will you always love me? Are you happy?'
+
+Ashamed of his strange, horrible mood of black jealousy, Cecil turned to
+his wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+Accounts
+
+
+'How about your play, Bruce? Aren't you going to work at it this
+evening?'
+
+'Why no; not just at present. I'm not in the mood. You don't understand,
+Edith. The Artist must work when the inspiration seizes him.'
+
+'Of course, I know all that, Bruce; but it's six months since you had
+the inspiration.'
+
+'Ah, but it isn't that only; but the trend of public taste is so bad--it
+gets worse and worse. Good heavens, I can't write down to the level of
+the vulgar public!'
+
+'But can you write at all?'
+
+'Certainly; certainly I can; but I need encouragement. My kind of
+talent, Edith, is like a sort of flower--are you listening?--a flower
+that needs the watering and tending, and that sort of thing, of
+appreciation. Appreciation! that's what I need--that's all I ask for.
+Besides, I'm a business man, and unless I have a proper contract with
+one of the Managers--a regular arrangement and agreement about my work
+being produced at a certain time--and, mind you, with a cast that I
+select--I just shan't do it at all.'
+
+'I see. Have you taken any steps?'
+
+'Of course I've taken steps--at least I've taken stalls at most of the
+theatres, as you know. There isn't a play going on at this moment that
+isn't full of faults--faults of the most blatant kind--mistakes that I
+myself would never have made. To begin with, for instance, take
+Shakespeare.'
+
+'Shakespeare?'
+
+'Yes. A play like _The Merchant of Venice_, for example. My dear girl,
+it's only the glamour of the name, believe me! It's a wretched play,
+improbable, badly constructed, full of padding--good gracious! do you
+suppose that if _I_ had written that play and sent it to Tree, that he
+would have put it up?'
+
+'I can't suppose it, Bruce.'
+
+'It isn't sense, Edith; it isn't true to life. Why, who ever heard of a
+case being conducted in any Court of Law as that is? Do you suppose all
+kinds of people are allowed to stand up and talk just when they like,
+and say just what they choose--in blank verse, too? Do you think now, if
+someone brought an action against me and you wanted me to win it, that
+you and Bennett could calmly walk off to the Law Courts disguised as a
+barrister and his clerk, and that you could get me off? Do you suppose,
+even, that you would be let in? People don't walk in calmly saying that
+they're barristers and do exactly what they please, and talk any
+nonsense that comes into their head.
+
+'I know that; but this is poetry, and years and years ago, in
+Elizabeth's time.'
+
+'Oh, good gracious, Edith, that's no excuse! It isn't sense. Then take a
+play like _The Merry Widow_. What about that? Do you suppose that if I
+liked I couldn't do something better than that? Look here, Edith, tell
+me, what's the point? Why are you so anxious that I should write
+this play?'
+
+He looked at her narrowly, in his suspicious way.
+
+'First of all, because I think it would amuse you.'
+
+'Amuse me, indeed!'
+
+'And then, far more, because--Bruce, do you remember assuring me that
+you were going to make £5,000 a year at least?'
+
+'Well, so I shall, so I shall. You must give a fellow time. Rome wasn't
+built in a day.'
+
+'I know it wasn't, and if it had been it would be no help to me. Will
+you look at the bills?'
+
+'Oh, confound it!'
+
+'Bruce dear, if you're not going to work at your play tonight, won't you
+just glance at the accounts?'
+
+'You know perfectly well, Edith, if there's one thing I hate more than
+another it's glancing at accounts. Besides, what good is it? What
+earthly use is it?'
+
+'Of course it would be use if you would kindly explain how I'm going to
+pay them?'
+
+'Why, of course, we'll pay them--gradually.'
+
+'But they're getting bigger gradually.'
+
+'Dear me, Edith, didn't we a year or two ago make a Budget?
+
+Didn't we write down exactly how much every single item of our
+expenditure would be?'
+
+'Yes; I know we did; but--'
+
+'Well, good heavens, what more do you want?'
+
+'Lots more. You made frightful mistakes in the Budget, Bruce; at any
+rate, it was extraordinarily under-estimated.'
+
+'Why, I remember I left a margin for unexpected calls.'
+
+'I know you left a margin, but you left out coals and clothes
+altogether.'
+
+'Oh, did I?'
+
+'And the margin went in a week, the first week of your holiday. You
+never counted holidays in the Budget.'
+
+'Oh! I--I--well, I suppose it escaped my recollection.'
+
+'Never mind that. It can't be helped now. You see, Bruce, we simply
+haven't enough for our expenses.'
+
+'Oh, then what's the use of looking at the accounts?'
+
+'Why, to see where we are. What we've done, and so on. What do you
+usually do when you receive a bill?'
+
+'I put it in the fire. I don't believe in keeping heaps of useless
+papers; it's so disorderly. And so I destroy them.'
+
+'That's all very well, but you know you really oughtn't to be in debt.
+It worries me. All I want you to do,' she continued, 'is just to go
+through the things with me to see how much we owe, how much we can pay,
+and how we can manage; and just be a little careful for the next
+few months.'
+
+'Oh, if that's all you want--well, perhaps you're right, and we'll do
+it, some time or other; but not tonight.'
+
+'Why not? You have nothing to do!'
+
+'Perhaps not; but I can't be rushed. Of course, I know it's rather hard
+for you, old girl, being married to a poor man; but you know you _would_
+do it, and you mustn't reproach me with it now.'
+
+She laughed.
+
+'We're not a bit too hard up to have a very pleasant time, if only you
+weren't so--,' then she stopped.
+
+'Go on; say it!' he exclaimed. 'You want to make out I'm extravagant,
+that's it! I _have_ large ideas, I own it; it's difficult for me to be
+petty about trifles.'
+
+'But, Bruce, I wasn't complaining at all of your large ideas. You hardly
+ever give me a farthing, and expect me to do marvels on next to nothing.
+Of course, I know you're not petty about some things.' She
+stopped again.
+
+'All right then; I'll give up smoking and golfing, and all the little
+things that make life tolerable to a hard-working man.'
+
+'Not at all, dear. Of course not. There's really only one luxury--if you
+won't think me unkind--that I think, perhaps, you might try to have
+less of.'
+
+'What is that?'
+
+'Well, dear, couldn't you manage not to be ill quite so often? You see,
+almost whenever you're bored you have a consultation. The doctors always
+say you're quite all right; but it does rather--well, run up, and you
+can't get much fun out of it. Now, don't be angry with me.'
+
+'But, good God, Edith! If I didn't take it in time, you might be left a
+young widow, alone in the world, with Archie. Penny-wise and
+pound-foolish to neglect the health of the breadwinner! Do you reproach
+me because the doctor said I wasn't dangerously ill at the time?'
+
+'Of course not; I'm only too thankful.'
+
+'I'm sure you are really, dear. Now yesterday I felt very odd, very
+peculiar indeed.'
+
+'Oh, what was it?'
+
+'An indescribable sensation. At first it was a kind of heaviness in my
+feet, and a light sensation in my head, and a curious kind of
+emptiness--nervous exhaustion, I suppose.'
+
+'It was just before lunch, no doubt. I daresay it went off. When I have
+little headache or don't feel quite up to the mark, I don't send for the
+doctor; I take no notice of it, and it goes away.'
+
+'But you, my dear--you're as strong as a horse. That reminds me, will
+you fetch me my tonic?'
+
+When she came back, he said--
+
+'Look here, Edith, I'll tell you what you shall do, if you like. You're
+awfully good, dear, really, to worry about the bills and things, though
+it's a great nuisance, but I should suggest that you just run through
+them with my mother. You know how good-natured she is. She'll be
+flattered at your consulting her, and she'll be able to advise you if
+you _have_ gone too far and got into a little debt. She knows perfectly
+well it's not the sort of thing _I_ can stand. And, of course, if she
+were to offer to help a little, well! she's my mother; I wouldn't hurt
+her feelings by refusing for anything in the world, and the mater's
+awfully fond of you.'
+
+'But, Bruce, I'd much rather--'
+
+'Oh, stop, Edith. I'm sorry to have to say it, but you're becoming
+shockingly fussy. I never thought you would have grown into a fidgety,
+worrying person. How bright you used to seem in the old days! And of
+course the whole thing about the accounts, and so on, _must_ have arisen
+through your want of management. But I won't reproach you, for I believe
+you mean well.... I've got one of my headaches coming on; I hope to
+goodness I'm not going to have an attack.'
+
+He looked in the glass. 'I'm rather an odd colour, don't you think so?'
+
+'No; I don't think so. It's the pink-shaded light.'
+
+He sighed.
+
+'Ah, suppose you had married a chap like Reeve--rolling in gold! Are he
+and Hyacinth happy, do you think?'
+
+'I think they seem very happy.'
+
+'We're lunching there on Sunday, aren't we? Don't forget to order me a
+buttonhole the day before, Edith.'
+
+'I'll remember.'
+
+She looked at her engagement-book.
+
+'It's not next Sunday, Bruce. Next Sunday we're lunching with your
+people. You'll be sure to come, won't you?'
+
+'Oh, ah, yes! If I'm well enough.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+Confidences
+
+
+'I know who you are. You're the pretty lady. Mother won't be long. Shall
+I get you my bear?'
+
+Hyacinth had come to see Edith, and was waiting for her in the little
+drawing-room of the flat. The neat white room with its miniature
+overmantel, pink walls, and brass fire-irons like toys, resembled more
+than ever an elaborate doll's house. The frail white chairs seemed too
+slender to be sat on. Could one ever write at that diminutive white
+writing-desk? The flat might have been made, and furnished by Waring,
+for midgets. Everything was still in fair and dainty repair, except that
+the ceiling, which was painted in imitation of a blue sky, was beginning
+to look cloudy. Hyacinth sat on a tiny blue sofa from where she could
+see her face in the glass. She was even prettier than before her
+marriage, now three months ago, but when in repose there was a slightly
+anxious look in her sweet, initiated eyes. She had neither the air of
+prosaic disillusion nor that of triumphant superiority that one sees in
+some young brides. She seemed intensely interested in life, but a little
+less reposeful than formerly.
+
+'Why, Archie! What a big boy you've grown!'
+
+'Shall I bring you my bear?'
+
+'Oh, no; never mind the bear. Stay and talk to me.'
+
+'Yes; but I'd better bring the bear. Mother would want me to amuse you.'
+
+He ran out and returned with his beloved animal, and put it on her lap.
+
+'Father calls him mangy, but he isn't, really. I'm going to cut its hair
+to make it grow thicker. I can say all the alphabet and lots of poetry.
+Shall I say my piece? No; I know what I'll do, I'll get you my cards,
+with E for ephalunt and X for swordfish on, and see if you can guess
+the animals.'
+
+'That would be fun. I wonder if I shall guess?'
+
+'You mustn't read the names on them, because that wouldn't be fair. You
+may only look at the pictures. Oh, won't you have tea? Do have tea.'
+
+'I think I'll wait for your mother.'
+
+'Oh, no; have tea now, quick. Then I can take some of your sugar.'
+
+Hyacinth agreed; but scarcely had this point been settled when Edith
+returned and sent him off.
+
+'Edith,' Hyacinth said, 'do you know I am rather worried about two
+things? I won't tell you the worst just yet.'
+
+'It's sure to be all your fancy,' said Edith affectionately.
+
+'Well, it isn't my fancy about Anne. Is it not the most extraordinary
+thing? Since the day of my wedding she's never been seen or heard of.
+She walked straight out into the street, and London seems to have
+swallowed her up. She took nothing with her but a large paper parcel,
+and left all her luggage, and even her dress that I made her get for the
+wedding was laid out on the bed. What can have become of her? Of course,
+I know she has plenty of money, and she could easily have bought an
+entirely new outfit, and gone away--to America or somewhere, under
+another name without telling anyone. We've inquired of her father, and
+he knows nothing about her. It really is a mysterious disappearance.'
+
+'I don't feel as if anything had happened to her,' Edith said, after a
+pause. 'She's odd, and I fancy she hated your marrying, and didn't want
+to see you again. She'll get over it and come back. Surely if there had
+been an accident, we should have heard by now. Do you miss her,
+Hyacinth?'
+
+'Of course I do, in a way. But everything's so different now. It isn't
+so much my missing her, if I only knew she was all right. There's
+something so sad about disappearing like that.'
+
+'Well, everything has been done that can be done. It's not the slightest
+use worrying. I should try and forget about it, if I were you. What's
+the other trouble?'
+
+Hyacinth hesitated.
+
+'Well, you know how perfect Cecil is to me, and yet there's one thing I
+don't like. The Selseys have come back, and have asked us there, and
+Cecil won't go. Isn't it extraordinary? Can he be afraid of meeting
+her again?'
+
+'Really, Hyacinth, you are fanciful! What now, now that she's his
+aunt--practically? Can you really still be jealous?'
+
+'Horribly,' said Hyacinth frankly. 'If she married his uncle a hundred
+times it wouldn't alter the fact that she's the only woman he's ever
+been madly in love with.'
+
+'Why, he adores you, Hyacinth!'
+
+'I am sure he does, in a way, but only as a wife!
+
+'Well, good heavens! What else do you want? You're too happy; too lucky;
+you're inventing things, searching for troubles. Why make yourself
+wretched about imaginary anxieties?'
+
+'Suppose, dear, that though he's devoted to me, we suit each other
+perfectly, and so on, yet at the back of his brain there's always a
+little niche, a little ideal for that other woman just because she never
+cared for him? I believe there will always be--always.'
+
+'Well, suppose there is; what on earth does it matter? What difference
+does it make? Why be jealous of a shadow?'
+
+'It's just because it's such a shadow that it's so intangible--so
+unconquerable. If she had ever returned his affection he might have got
+tired of her, they might have quarrelled, he might have seen through
+her--realised her age and all that, and it would have been
+over--exploded! Instead of this, he became fascinated by her, she
+refused him; and then, to make it ever so much worse for me, Lord
+Selsey, whom he's so fond of and thinks such a lot of, goes and puts her
+upon a pedestal, constantly in sight, yet completely out of reach.'
+
+'You are unreasonable, Hyacinth! Would you prefer a rival of flesh and
+blood. Don't be so fanciful, dear. It's too foolish. You've got your
+wish; enjoy it. I consider that you haven't a trouble in the world.'
+
+'Dear Edith,' said Hyacinth, 'have you troubles?'
+
+'Why, of course I have--small ones. Bruce has taken to having a
+different illness every day. His latest is that he _imagines_ he's a
+_malade imaginaire_!'
+
+'Good gracious, how complicated! What makes him think that?'
+
+'Because he's been going to specialists for everything he could think
+of, and they all say he's specially well. Still, it's better than if he
+were really ill, I suppose. Only he's very tormenting, and hardly ever
+works, and lately he's taken to making jealous scenes.'
+
+'Oh, that must be rather fun. Who is he jealous of?'
+
+'Why, he thinks he's jealous of his friend Raggett--the most impossible,
+harmless creature in the world; and the funny thing is whenever Bruce is
+jealous of anyone he keeps on inviting them--won't leave them alone. If
+I go out when Raggett appears, he says it's because I'm so deep; and if
+I stay he finds fault with everything I do. What do you advise me to do,
+Hyacinth?'
+
+'Why, give him something more genuine to worry about--flirt with a real
+person. That would do Bruce good, and be a change for you.'
+
+'I would--but I haven't got time! What chance is there for flirting when
+I have to be always contriving and economising, and every scrap of
+leisure I must be there or thereabouts in case Bruce has heart disease
+or some other illness suddenly? When you are living with a strong young
+man who thinks he's dangerously ill, flirting is not so easy as it
+sounds. When he isn't here I'm only too glad to rest by playing
+with Archie.'
+
+'I see. What do you think could cure Bruce of his imaginary maladies?'
+
+'Oh, not having to work, coming into some money. You see, it fills up
+the time which he can't afford to spend on amusements.'
+
+Edith laughed.
+
+'It's a bore for you....'
+
+'Oh, I don't mind much; but you see we all have our little troubles.'
+
+'Then, how did you say I ought to behave about the Selseys?'
+
+'Don't behave at all. Be perfectly natural, ignore it. By acting as if
+things were just as you liked, they often become so.'
+
+There was a ring on the telephone.
+
+Edith went into the next room to answer it, and came back to say--
+
+'Bruce has just rung up. He wants to know if Raggett's here. He says
+he'll be home in half an hour. He doesn't feel up to the mark, and can't
+stay at the office.'
+
+'Poor little Edith!'
+
+'And don't for goodness sake bother yourself about Cecil. As if there
+was any man in the world who hadn't liked somebody some time or other!'
+
+Hyacinth laughed, kissed her, and went away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Miss Wrenner
+
+
+One day Bruce came into the flat much more briskly than usual. There was
+a certain subdued satisfaction in his air that Edith was glad to see. He
+sat down, lit a cigarette, and said--
+
+'Edith, you know how strongly I disapprove of the modern fashion of
+husbands and wives each going their own way--don't you?'
+
+'Where are you thinking of going, dear?'
+
+'Who said I was thinking of going anywhere?'
+
+'No-one. But it's obvious, or you wouldn't have begun like that.'
+
+'Why? What did you think I was going to say next?'
+
+'Of course, you were going to say, after that sentence about "_you know
+how strongly I disapprove_," etc., something like, "_But, of course,
+there are exceptions to every rule, and in this particular instance I
+really think that I had better_," and so on. Weren't you?'
+
+'Odd. Very odd you should get it into your head that I should have any
+idea of leaving you. Is that why you're looking so cheerful--laughing
+so much?'
+
+'Am I laughing? I thought I was only smiling.'
+
+'I don't think it's a kind thing to smile at the idea of my going away.
+However, I'm sorry to disappoint you'--Bruce spoke rather
+bitterly--'very sorry indeed, for I see what a blow it will be to you.
+But, as a matter of fact, I had not intention _whatever_ of leaving you
+at all, except, perhaps, for a few hours at a time. However, of course,
+if you wish it very much I might arrange to make it longer. Or even to
+remain away altogether, if you prefer it.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce, don't talk such nonsense! You know I wish nothing of the
+kind. What's this about a few hours at a time?'
+
+'Naturally,' Bruce said, getting up and looking in the glass;
+'naturally, when one has an invitation like this--oh, I admit it's a
+compliment--I quite admit that--one doesn't want to decline it at once
+without thinking it over. Think how absurd I should appear to a man like
+that, writing to say that my wife can't possibly spare me for a couple
+of hours two or three times a week!'
+
+'A man like what? Who is this mysterious man who wants you for two or
+three hours two or three times a week?'
+
+'My dear, it can't be done without it; and though, of course, it is
+rather a nuisance, I daresay in a way it won't be bad fun. You shall
+help me, dear, and I'm sure I shall be able to arrange for you to see
+the performance. Yes! you've guessed it; I thought you would. I've been
+asked to play in some amateur theatricals that are being got up by
+Mitchell of the F O in aid of the 'Society for the Suppression of
+Numismatics', or something--I can't think why he chose me, of
+all people!'
+
+'I wonder.'
+
+'I don't see anything to wonder about. Perhaps he thought I'd do it
+well. Possibly he supposed I had talent. He may have observed, in the
+course of our acquaintance, that I was threatened with intelligence! Or
+again, of course, they want for theatricals a fellow of decent
+appearance.'
+
+'Ah, yes; of course they do.'
+
+'It would be very absurd for the heroine of the play to be madly in love
+with a chap who turned up looking like, God knows what! Not that I mean
+for a moment to imply that I'm particularly good-looking, Edith--I'm not
+such a fool as that. But--well, naturally, it's always an advantage in
+playing the part of a _jeune premier_ not to be quite bald and to go in
+decently at the waist, and to--Fancy, Miss Wrenner didn't know I was a
+married man!'
+
+'Miss Wrenner! Who's Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'Why she--Don't you know who Miss Wrenner is?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'Oh, Miss Wrenner's that girl who--a friend of the Mitchells; you know.'
+
+'I _don't_ know. Miss Wrenner is quite new to me. So are the Mitchells.
+What is she like?'
+
+'_Like_!' exclaimed Bruce. 'You ask me what she's _like_! Why, she isn't
+_like_ anything. She's just Miss Wrenner--the well-known Miss Wrenner,
+who's so celebrated as an amateur actress. Why, she was going to play
+last Christmas at Raynham, only after all the performance never
+came off.'
+
+'Is Miss Wrenner pretty?'
+
+'Pretty? How do you mean?'
+
+'What colour is her hair?'
+
+'Well, I--I--I didn't notice, particularly.'
+
+'Is she dark or fair? You must know, Bruce!'
+
+'Well, I should say she was a little darker than you--not a great deal.
+But I'm not quite certain. Just fancy her not thinking I was married!'
+
+'Did you tell her?'
+
+'Tell her! Of course I didn't tell her. Do you suppose a girl like Miss
+Wrenner's got nothing to do but to listen to my autobiography? Do you
+imagine she collects marriage certificates? Do you think she makes a
+hobby of the census?'
+
+'Oh! then you didn't tell her?'
+
+'Yes, I did. Why should I palm myself off as a gay bachelor when I'm
+nothing of the sort?'
+
+'When did you tell her, Bruce?'
+
+'Why, I haven't told her yet--at least, not personally. What happened
+really was this: Mitchell said to me, "Miss Wrenner will be surprised to
+hear you're a married man," or something like that.'
+
+'Where did all this happen?'
+
+'At the office. Where else do I ever see Mitchell?'
+
+'Then does Miss Wrenner come to the office?'
+
+Bruce stared at her in silent pity.
+
+'_Miss Wrenner! At the office!_ Why you must be wool-gathering! Women
+are not allowed at the F O. Surely you know that, dear?'
+
+'Well, then, where did you meet Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'Miss Wrenner? Why do you ask?'
+
+'Simply because I want to know.'
+
+'Oh! Good heavens! What does it matter where I met Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'You're right, Bruce; it doesn't really matter a bit. I suppose you've
+forgotten.'
+
+'No; I haven't forgotten. I suppose I shall meet Miss Wrenner at the
+first rehearsal next week--at the Mitchells.'
+
+'Was it there you met her before?'
+
+'How could it be? I have never been to the Mitchells.'
+
+'As a matter of fact, you've never seen Miss Wrenner?'
+
+'Did I say I had? I didn't mean to. What I intended to convey was, not
+that I had seen Miss Wrenner, but that _Mitchell_ said Miss Wrenner
+would be surprised to hear I was married.'
+
+'Funny he should say that--very curious it should occur to him to
+picture Miss Wrenner's astonishment at the marriage of a man she didn't
+know, and had never seen.'
+
+'No--no--no; that wasn't it, dear; you've got the whole thing
+wrong--you've got hold of the wrong end of the stick. He--Mitchell, you
+know--mentioned to me the names of the people who were going to be asked
+to act, and among them, Miss Wrenner's name cropped up--I think he said
+Miss Wrenner was going to be asked to play the heroine if they could get
+her--no--I'm wrong, it was that _she_ had _asked_ to play the heroine,
+and that they meant to get out of it if they could. So, _then_, _I_
+said, wouldn't she be surprised at having to play the principal part
+with a married man.'
+
+'I see. _You_ said it, not Mitchell. Then are you playing the hero?'
+
+'Good gracious! no--of course not. Is it likely that Mitchell, who's mad
+on acting and is getting up the whole thing himself, is jolly well going
+to let me play the principal part? Is it human nature? Of course it
+isn't. You can't expect it. I never said Mitchell was not human--did I?'
+
+'What is your part, dear?'
+
+'They're going to send it to me tomorrow--typewritten. It's not a long
+part, and not very important, apparently; but Mitchell says there's a
+lot to be got out of it by a good actor; sometimes one of these
+comparatively small parts will make the hit of the evening.'
+
+'What sort of part is it?'
+
+'Oh, no particular _sort_. I don't come on until the second act. As I
+told you, one of the chief points is to have a good appearance--look a
+gentleman; that sort of thing.'
+
+'Well?'
+
+'I come on in the second act, dressed as a mandarin.'
+
+'A mandarin! Then you play the part of a Chinaman?'
+
+'No, I don't. It's at the ball. In the second act, there's a ball on the
+stage--for the hero's coming of age--and I have to be a mandarin.'
+
+'Is the ball given at the Chinese Embassy?'
+
+'No; at the hero's country house. Didn't I tell you--it's a fancy ball!'
+
+'Oh, I see! Then I shouldn't have thought it would have mattered so very
+much about whether you're good-looking or not. And Miss Wrenner--how
+will she be dressed at the fancy ball?'
+
+'Miss Wrenner? Oh! Didn't I tell you--Miss Wrenner isn't going to
+act--they've got someone else instead.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+Anne Returns
+
+
+It was about six o'clock, and Hyacinth was sitting in her boudoir alone.
+It was a lovely room and she herself looked lovely, but, for a bride of
+four months, a little discontented. She was wondering why she was not
+happier. What was this unreasonable misery, this constant care, this
+anxious jealousy that seemed to poison her very existence? It was as
+intangible as a shadow, but it was always there. Hyacinth constantly
+felt that there was something in Cecil that escaped her, something that
+she missed. And yet he was kind, affectionate, even devoted.
+
+Sometimes when they spent evenings at home together, which were calm and
+peaceful and should have been happy, the girl would know, with the
+second-sight of love, that he was thinking about Eugenia. And this
+phantom, of which she never spoke to him and could not have borne him to
+know of, tormented her indescribably. It seemed like a spell that she
+knew not how to break. It was only a thought, yet how much it made her
+suffer! Giving way for the moment to the useless and futile bitterness
+of her jealousy, she had leant her head on the cushion of the little
+sofa where she sat, when, with a sudden sensation that she was no longer
+alone, she raised it again and looked up.
+
+Standing near the door she saw a tall, thin figure with a rather wooden
+face and no expression--a queer figure, oddly dressed in a mackintosh
+and a golf-cap.
+
+'Why do you burn so much electric light?' Anne said dryly, in a
+reproachful voice, as she turned a button on the wall.
+
+Hyacinth sprang up with a cry of surprise.
+
+Anne hardly looked at her and walked round the room.
+
+'Sit down. I want to look at your new room. Silk walls and Dresden
+china. I suppose this is what is called gilded luxury. Do you ever see
+that the servants dust it, or do they do as they like?'
+
+'Anne! How can you? Do you know how anxious we've been about you? Do you
+know we weren't sure you were not dead?'
+
+'Weren't you? I wasn't very sure myself at one time. I see you took the
+chances, though, and didn't go into mourning for me. That was sensible.'
+
+'Anne, will you have the ordinary decency to tell me where you've been,
+after frightening me out of my life?'
+
+'Oh, it wouldn't interest you. I went to several places. I just went
+away because at the last minute I felt I couldn't stand the wedding.
+Besides, you had a honeymoon. I didn't see why I shouldn't. And mine was
+much jollier--freer, because I was alone. Cheaper, too, thank goodness!'
+
+'What an extraordinary creature you are, Anne! Not caring whether you
+heard from me, or of me, for four months, and then coolly walking in
+like this.'
+
+'It was the only way to walk in. I really had meant never to see you
+again, Hyacinth. You didn't want me. I was only in the way. I was no
+longer needed, now you've got that young man you were always worrying
+about. What's his name? Reeve. But I missed you too much. I was too
+bored without you. I made up my mind to take a back seat, if only I
+could see you sometimes. I had to come and have news of you. Well, and
+how do you like him now you've got him? Hardly worth all that
+bother--was he?'
+
+'I'll tell you, Anne. You are the very person I want. I need you
+immensely. You're the only creature in the world that could be the
+slightest help to me.'
+
+'Oh, so there is a crumpled rose-leaf! I told you he was exactly like
+any other young man.'
+
+'Oh, but he isn't, Anne. Tell me first about you. Where are you--where
+are you staying?'
+
+'That's my business. I'm staying with some delightful friends. You
+wouldn't know them--wouldn't want to either.'
+
+'Nonsense! You used to say you had no friends except mine. You must come
+and stay here. Cecil would be delighted to see you.'
+
+'I daresay--but I'm not coming. I may be a fool, but I'm not stupid
+enough for that. I should hate it, besides! No; but I'll look in and see
+you from time to time, and give you a word of advice. You doing
+housekeeping, indeed!' She laughed as she looked round. 'Who engaged
+your servants?'
+
+'Why, I did.'
+
+'I suppose you were too sweet and polite to ask for their characters,
+for fear of hurting their feelings? I suppose you gave them twice as
+much as they asked? This is the sort of house servants like. Do you
+allow followers?'
+
+'How should I know? No; I suppose not. Of course, I let them see their
+friends when they like. Why shouldn't they? They let me see mine.'
+
+'Yes! that's jolly of them--awfully kind. Of course you wouldn't know.
+And I suppose the young man, Cecil, or whatever you call him, is just as
+ignorant as you are, and thinks you do it beautifully?'
+
+'My dear Anne, I assure you--'
+
+'I know what you are going to say. You order the dinner. That's nothing;
+so can anyone. There's nothing clever in ordering! What are you making
+yourself miserable about? What's the matter?'
+
+'Tell me first where you're staying and what you're doing. I insist on
+being told at once.'
+
+'I'm staying with charming people. I tell you. At a boarding-house in
+Bloomsbury. I'm a great favourite there; no--now I come to think of
+it--I'm hated. But they don't want me to leave them.'
+
+'Now, Anne, why live like that? Even if you wouldn't stay with us, it's
+ridiculous of you to live in this wretched, uncomfortable way.'
+
+'Not at all. It isn't wretched, and I thoroughly enjoy it. I pay hardly
+anything, because I help with the housekeeping. Of course it isn't so
+much fun as it used to be with you. It's a little sordid; it isn't very
+pretty but it's interesting. It's not old-fashioned; there's no wax
+fruit, nor round table in the middle of the room. It's only about
+twenty-five years out of date. There are Japanese fans and bead
+curtains. They think the bead curtains--instead of folding-doors--quite
+smart and Oriental--rather wicked. Oh and we have musical evenings on
+Sundays; sometimes we play dumb crambo. Now, tell me about the little
+rift within the lute.'
+
+'I always told you every little thing, Anne--didn't I?'
+
+Anne turned away her head.
+
+'Who arranges your flowers?'
+
+'I do.'
+
+'Oh, you _do_ do something! They look all right but I did it much
+better. Oh--by the way--you mustn't think these are the only clothes
+I've got. I have a very smart tailor-made coat and skirt which I bought
+at a sale at a little shop in Brixton. I went to Brixton for the season.
+There's nothing like the suburbs for real style--I mean real, thoroughly
+English style. And the funny part is that the suburban English dresses
+all come from Vienna. Isn't it queer?'
+
+'All right, come to see me next time in your Brixton-Viennese costume,
+and we'll have a long talk. I think you're pleased I've got a little
+trouble. Aren't you?'
+
+'Oh, no--I don't want you to have trouble. But I should like you to own
+_he_ isn't so wonderful, after all.'
+
+'But I don't own that--not in the least. The thing is, you see'--she
+waited a minute--'I believe I'm still jealous of Mrs Raymond.'
+
+'But she isn't Mrs Raymond any more. You surely don't imagine that he
+flirts with his aunt?'
+
+'Of course not--how absurd you are! That's a ridiculous way to put it.
+No--he won't even see her.'
+
+'Is that what you complain of?'
+
+'His avoiding her shows he still thinks of her. It's a bad sign--isn't
+it? What I feel is, that he still puts her on a pedestal.'
+
+'Well, that's all right. Let her stay there. Now, Hyacinth, when people
+know what they want--really _want_ something acutely and definitely--and
+don't get it, I can pity them. They're frustrated--scored off by fate,
+as it were; and even if it's good for them, I'm sorry. But when they
+_have_ got what they wanted, and then find fault and are not satisfied,
+I can't give them any sympathy at all. Who was it said there is no
+tragedy like not getting your wish--except getting it? You wanted Cecil
+Reeve. You've got him. How would you have felt if the other woman had
+got him instead?'
+
+'You're right, Anne--I suppose. And yet--do you think he'll ever quite
+forget her?'
+
+'Do you think, if you really tried hard, you could manage to find out
+what your grievance is, Hyacinth?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Well, then, try; and when you've found it, just keep it. Don't part
+with it. A sentimental grievance is a resource--it's a consolation for
+all the prosaic miseries of life. Now I must go, or I shall be late for
+high tea.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+The Ingratitude of Mitchell
+
+
+Since Bruce had had the amateur-theatrical trouble, he had forgotten to
+have any other illness. But he spent many, many half-hours walking up
+and down in front of the glass rehearsing his part--which consisted of
+the words, _'Ah, Miss Vavasour, how charming you look--a true Queen of
+Night! May a humble mandarin petition for a dance?'_ He tried this in
+many different tones; sometimes serious and romantic, sometimes
+humorous, but in every case he was much pleased with his reading of the
+part and counted on a brilliant success.
+
+One evening he had come home looking perturbed, and said he thought he
+had caught a chill. Eucalyptus, quinine, sal-volatile, and clinical
+thermometers were lavishly applied, and after dinner he said he was
+better, but did not feel sufficiently up to the mark to go through his
+part with Edith as usual, and was rather silent during the rest of
+the evening.
+
+When he came down to breakfast the next morning, Edith said--
+
+'Do you know Anne's come back?'
+
+'Who's Anne?'
+
+'Anne. Hyacinth's companion. Miss Yeo, I mean.'
+
+'Come back from where?'
+
+'Don't you remember about her going away--about her mysterious
+disappearance?'
+
+'I seem to remember now. I suppose I had more important things to think
+about.'
+
+'Well, at any rate, she _has_ come back--I've just had a
+letter--Hyacinth wants me to go out with her this afternoon and hear all
+about it. At four. I can, of course; it's the day you rehearse,
+isn't it?'
+
+Bruce waited a minute, then said--
+
+'Curious thing, you _can't_ get our cook to make a hot omelette! And
+we've tried her again and again.'
+
+'It _was_ a hot omelette, Bruce--very hot--about three-quarters of an
+hour ago. Shall I order another?'
+
+'No--oh, no--pray don't--not for me. I haven't the time. I've got to
+work. You have rather a way, Edith, of keeping me talking. You seem to
+think I've nothing else to do, and it's serious that I should be
+punctual at the office. By the way--I shouldn't go out with Hyacinth
+today, if I were you--I'd rather you didn't.'
+
+'Why not, Bruce?'
+
+'Well, I may want you.'
+
+'Then aren't you going to the Mitchells'?'
+
+'The Mitchells'? No--I am certainly _not_ going to the Mitchells'--under
+the present circumstances.'
+
+He threw down a piece of toast, got up, and stood with his back to the
+fire.
+
+'How you can expect me to go to the Mitchells' again after their conduct
+is more than I can understand! Have you no pride, Edith?'
+
+Edith looked bewildered.
+
+'Has anything happened? What have the Mitchells done?' she asked.
+
+'What have they done!' Bruce almost shouted. He then went and shut the
+door carefully and came back.
+
+'Done! How do you think I've been treated by these Mitchells--by my
+friend Mitchell--after slaving night and day at their infernal
+theatricals? I _have_ slaved, haven't I, Edith? Worked hard at my part?'
+
+'Indeed you have, dear.'
+
+'Well, you know the last rehearsal? I had got on particularly well. I
+told you so, didn't I? I played the little part with a certain amount of
+spirit, I think. I certainly threw a good deal of feeling and suppressed
+emotion, and also a tinge of humorous irony into my speech to Miss
+Vavasour. Of course, I know quite well it doesn't seem of any very great
+importance, but a lot hinges on that speech, and it isn't everyone who
+could make the very most of it, as I really believe I did. Well, I
+happened to be pointing out to Mitchell, yesterday at the office, how
+much I had done for his play, and how much time and so forth I'd given
+up towards making the thing a success, then, what do you think he turned
+round and said? Oh, he is a brute!'
+
+'I can't think!'
+
+'He said, "Oh, by the way, Ottley, old chap, I was going to tell you
+there's been a change in the scheme. We've altered our plans a little,
+and I really don't think we shall need to trouble you after all. The
+fact is, I've decided to cut out the fancy ball altogether." And then
+people talk of gratitude!'
+
+'Oh, dear, Bruce, that does seem a pity!'
+
+'Seems a pity? Is that all you've got to say! It's an outrage--a slight
+on _me_. It isn't treating me with proper deference. But it isn't that I
+care personally, except for the principle of the thing. For my own sake
+I'm only too pleased--delighted, relieved. It's for _their_ sake I'm so
+sorry. The whole thing is bound to be a failure now--not a chance of
+anything else. The fancy ball in the second act and my little scene with
+Miss Vavasour, especially, was the point of the play. As Mitchell said
+at first, when he was asking me to play the part, it would have been
+_the_ attraction.'
+
+'But why is he taking out the fancy ball?'
+
+'He says they can't get enough people. Says they won't make fools of
+themselves and buy fancy dresses just to make one in a crowd and not be
+noticed--not even recognised. Says the large fancy ball for the coming
+of age of the hero in his ancestral halls would have consisted of one
+mandarin, one Queen of the Night, and a chap in a powdered wig. He
+thinks it wouldn't have been worth it.'
+
+'Well, I am sorry! Still, couldn't you say your part just the same in an
+ordinary dress?'
+
+'What! _"Ah, Miss Vavasour, how charming you look--a true Queen of
+Night!"_ Why, do you remember the lines, Edith? Don't you recollect how
+they refer to our costumes? How could I say them if we weren't in
+fancy dress?'
+
+'Still, if the whole plot hinges on your scene--'
+
+'Well! all I know is, out it goes--and out I go. The second act will be
+an utter frost now. They're making a terrible mistake, mind you. But
+that's Mitchell's business, not mine. It's no kind of deprivation to
+_me_--you know that. What possible gratification can it be for a man
+like me--a man of the world--to paint my face and put on a ridiculous
+dress and make a general ass of myself, just to help Mitchell's rotten
+performance to go off all right!'
+
+'I don't know. I daresay it would have amused you. I'm sorry, anyhow.'
+
+'I'm sorry enough, too--sorry for them. But if you really want to know
+the root of the matter, I shrewdly suspect it's really jealousy! Yes,
+jealousy! It's very odd, when people get keen on this sort of thing, how
+vain they begin to get! Perfectly childish! Yes, he didn't want me to
+make a hit. Old Mitchell didn't want to be cut out! Natural enough, in a
+way, when one comes to think it over; but a bit thick when one remembers
+the hours I've worked for that man--isn't it?'
+
+'What did you say to him, Bruce, when he first told you?'
+
+'Say? Oh, nothing. I took it very coolly--as a man of the world. I
+merely said, "Well, upon my word, Mitchell, this is pretty rough," or
+something of that sort. I didn't show I was hurt or offended in any way.
+I said, of course, it was like his beastly ingratitude--or words to
+that effect.'
+
+'Oh! Was he angry?'
+
+'Yes. He was very angry--furious.'
+
+'Then you've had a quarrel with Mitchell?'
+
+'Not a quarrel, Edith, because I wouldn't quarrel. I merely rubbed in
+his ingratitude, and he didn't like it. He said, "Well, let's hope if
+you're no longer wasting your valuable life on my theatricals you'll now
+be able to arrive at the office in fairly decent time," or something
+nasty like that. Disgusting--wasn't it?'
+
+Edith looked at the clock.
+
+'Too bad,' she said. 'Well, you must tell me all about it--a long
+account of the whole thing--this afternoon. I won't go out. I'll be at
+home when you come--to hear all about it. And now--'
+
+'But that wasn't nearly all,' continued Bruce, without moving; 'you'd
+hardly believe it, but Mitchell actually said that he didn't think I had
+the smallest talent for the stage! He said I made much too much of my
+part--over-acted--exaggerated! When I made a point of keeping my
+rendering of the little scene _particularly_ restrained! The fact is,
+Mitchell's a conceited ass. He knows no more of acting than that chair,
+and he thinks he knows everything.'
+
+'It's fortunate you hadn't ordered your costume.'
+
+'Yes, indeed. As I told him, the whole thing might have cost me a
+tremendous lot--far more than I could afford--put me to tremendous
+expense; and all for nothing! But he said no doubt the costumier would
+take it back. Take it back, indeed! And that if he wouldn't I could send
+the costume to him--Mitchell--_and_ the bill--it would be sure to come
+in useful some time or other--the costume, I mean. As though I'd dream
+of letting him pay for it! I told him at once there could be no question
+of such a thing.'
+
+'Well, there won't, as you haven't ordered it.'
+
+'Now, Edith, let me beg you not to argue. Isn't it bad enough that I'm
+slighted by my so-called friends, and treated with the basest
+ingratitude, without being argued with and nagged at in my own home?'
+
+'I didn't know I was arguing. I beg your pardon. You mustn't worry about
+this, dear. After all, I suppose if they found at the rehearsals that
+they didn't really _need_ a mandarin--I mean, that the fancy-ball scene
+wasn't necessary--perhaps from their point of view they were right to
+cut it out. Don't have a lasting feud with Mitchell--isn't he rather an
+important friend for you--at the office?'
+
+'Edith, Mitchell shall never set foot under my roof--never darken these
+doors again!'
+
+'I wonder why, when people are angry, they talk about their roofs and
+doors? If you were pleased with Mitchell again, you wouldn't _ask_ him
+to set foot under your roof--nor to darken the door. You'd ask him to
+come and see us. Anyhow, he won't feel it so very much--because he'll
+not notice it. He's never been here yet.'
+
+'I know; but Mrs Mitchell was going to call. You will be out to her now,
+remember.'
+
+'I can safely promise, I think, never to receive her, Bruce.'
+
+'Good heavens!' cried Bruce, looking at the clock. 'Do you know what the
+time is? I told you so! I knew it! You've made me late at the office!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+Mitchell Behaves Decently
+
+
+For the last few days Bruce had been greatly depressed, his temper more
+variable than ever, and he had managed to collect a quite extraordinary
+number of entirely new imaginary illnesses. He was very capricious about
+them and never carried one completely through, but abandoned it almost
+as soon as he had proved to Edith that he really had the symptoms. Until
+she was convinced he never gave it up; but the moment she appeared
+suitably anxious about one disease he adopted another. She had no doubt
+that he would continue to ring the changes on varieties of ill-health
+until he had to some extent recovered from the black ingratitude, as he
+considered it, of Mitchell, in (what he called) hounding him out of the
+amateur theatricals, and not letting him play the part of one line at
+which he had slaved night and day.
+
+One evening he came home in quite a different mood, bright and cheerful.
+He played with Archie, and looked in the glass a good deal; both of
+which signs Edith recognised as hopeful.
+
+'How is your temperature tonight, do you think?' she asked tentatively.
+
+'Oh, I don't know. I can't worry about that. A rather gratifying thing
+has happened today, in fact, very gratifying.' He smiled.
+
+'Really? You must tell me about it.'
+
+'However badly a chap behaves--still, when he's really sorry--I mean to
+say when he climbs down and begs your pardon, positively crawls at your
+feet, you can't hold out, Edith!'
+
+'Of course not. Then did Mitchell--'
+
+'And when you have known a fellow a good many years, and he has always
+been fairly decent to you except in the one instance--and when he is in
+a real difficulty--Oh, hang it! One is glad to do what one can.'
+
+'Do I gather that there has been a touching scene between you and
+Mitchell at the office?'
+
+He glanced at her suspiciously. 'May I ask if you are laughing?'
+
+'Oh, no, no! I was smiling with pleasure, hoping you had made it up.'
+
+'Well, yes, it may be weak of me, but I couldn't see the poor fellow's
+scheme absolutely ruined without lending a helping hand. I have got my
+share of proper pride, as you know, Edith, but, after all, one has
+a heart.'
+
+'What did he do?'
+
+'Do!' exclaimed Bruce triumphantly. 'Do! Only apologised--only begged
+me to act with them again--only said that the piece was nothing without
+me, that's all! So I forgave him, and he was jolly grateful, I can
+tell you.'
+
+'Fancy! Is it the same part?'
+
+'Of course not. Didn't I tell you that the fancy ball in the second act
+has been cut out, so of course they don't want a mandarin. No; but Frank
+Luscombe has given up his part--chucked it, and they have asked me
+to take it.'
+
+'Is it as long as the other one?'
+
+'Longer! I appear twice. Mind you, in a way it's not such an important
+part as the other would have been; but the play wouldn't hold together
+without it, and, as Mitchell said, Frank Luscombe is such a conceited
+chap he thought himself too grand to play a footman. He didn't have the
+proper artistic feeling for the whole effect; it appears that he was
+grumbling all the time and at last gave it up. Then it occurred to
+Mitchell that perhaps I would help him out, and I said I would. It is a
+bit of a triumph, isn't it, Edith?'
+
+'A great triumph. Then you will be going back to the rehearsals again?'
+
+'Of course I shall; they begin tomorrow. Mitchell thinks that I shall
+make the hit of the evening. Some of these comparatively unimportant
+parts, when they are really well played, are more effective than the
+chief characters. Mitchell says he saw before, by the rehearsals, what a
+tremendous lot of talent I had. But it isn't merely talent, as he said;
+what they all noticed was my Personal Magnetism--and I expect that's it.
+Fancy a man like Mitchell coming cringing to me, after all that has
+passed between us! Mind you, it's a distinct score, Edith!'
+
+'It is, indeed. If you have not got your part with you, you won't want
+to work at it tonight. I wonder, as you seem better, whether you would
+feel up to listening while I tell you something about the accounts?'
+
+'There you are! How like a woman! The very moment I am a bit cheered up
+and hopeful and feeling a little stronger, you begin worrying me again.'
+
+'Dear Bruce, I wasn't going to worry you. I don't want you to do
+anything--anything at all but listen, and it really will take hardly any
+time at all. You remember you said you weren't strong enough to go
+through them, and suggested I should show them to your mother? Well, I
+went today, and I only want to tell you what happened.'
+
+'Awfully good of you. What did she say?'
+
+'She didn't say much, and she thought she could arrange it, but not
+without speaking to your father.'
+
+'Oh, I say, really? Well, that's all right then. The girl who plays Miss
+Vavasour is quite as good as any professional actress, you know; in
+fact, she would have made a fortune on the stage. She's a Miss
+Flummerfelt. Her father was German by birth. If she weren't a little bit
+inclined to be fat, she would be wonderfully handsome. I shall have a
+little scene with her in the third act, at least, not really a scene
+exactly, but I have to announce her. I open the door and say, "Miss
+Vavasour!" and then she rushes up to Lady Jenkins, who is sitting on the
+sofa, and tells her the bracelet has been found, and I shut the door.
+But there's a great deal, you know, in the tone in which I announce her.
+I have to do it in an apparently supercilious but really admiring tone,
+to show that all the servants think Miss Vavasour had taken the
+bracelet, but that _I_ am certain it isn't true. Frank Luscombe, it
+seems, used to say the words without any expression at all, just "Miss
+Vavasour!" like that, in an unmeaning sort of way.'
+
+'I see. Your father was at home at the time, so your mother most kindly
+said she would go in to him at once, and try to get it settled, just to
+spare you the suspense of waiting for a letter about it. Isn't it sweet
+and considerate of her?'
+
+'Awfully. In the second act, Lady Jenkins says to me, "Parker, has an
+emerald snake bracelet with a ruby head been found in any of the rooms?"
+and I have to say, "I will inquire, my lady." And then I move about the
+room, putting things in order. She says, "That will do, Parker; you
+can go."'
+
+'You seem to make yourself rather a nuisance, then; but do listen,
+Bruce. I waited, feeling most frightfully uncomfortable, and I am afraid
+there was a fearful row--I felt so sorry for your mother, but you know
+the way she has of going straight to the point. She really wasn't long,
+though it _seemed_ long. She came back and said--'
+
+'Of course there's one thing Mitchell asked me to do, but I was obliged
+to refuse. I can't shave off my moustache.'
+
+'Heavens! You aren't going to play the part of a powdered footman with a
+moustache?'
+
+'Yes, I shall; Mitchell doesn't know it yet, but I mean to. I can carry
+it off. I can carry off anything.'
+
+'Well, your mother came back and said that your father had given an
+ultimatum.'
+
+'Is that all he's given?'
+
+'He will put the thing straight on one condition--it seems it is quite
+an easy condition; he's going to write and tell it you. Your mother says
+you must agree at once, not argue, and then everything will be
+all right.'
+
+'Oh, I am glad. It's all through you, Edith. Thanks, awfully. It's
+really very good of you. You should have seen how pleased Mitchell was
+when I said I'd do this for him. Simply delighted. Oh, and Mrs Mitchell
+is going to call on you. I'll find out which day.'
+
+'I suppose I am to be at home to her now? You told me before not to
+receive her, you know.'
+
+'Well, no; if you could manage it without being rude, I would rather she
+only left a card. The Mansions look all right from outside, and they are
+in a decent neighbourhood and all that, but the flat is so _very_ small.
+I hardly like her to see it.'
+
+'Really, Bruce, you are absurd. Does Mitchell suppose that you live in a
+palace?'
+
+'Not a _palace_, exactly; but I expect I have given him an impression
+that it is--well--all right.'
+
+'Well, so it is. If you think the flat unworthy to be seen by Mrs
+Mitchell, why be on visiting terms with her at all? I don't want to be.'
+
+'But, Edith, you can't refuse the advances of a woman like that, the
+wife of such a friend of mine as Mitchell. He's a most valuable
+friend--a splendid fellow--a thoroughly good sort. You've no idea how
+upset he was about our little quarrel the other day. He said he couldn't
+sleep at night thinking about it; and his wife, too, was fretting
+dreadfully, making herself quite ill. But now, of course, it is
+all right.'
+
+'I am not so sure that it is all right; perhaps you will quarrel again
+on the moustache question.'
+
+'Oh, no, we shan't! There can't be any more choppings and changings.
+After telling the whole company that we buried the hatchet and that I am
+going to take Luscombe's part, he wouldn't care to disappoint them all
+again. They are very keen, too, on pleasing Miss Flummerfelt, and it
+seems Mitchell thought she would be particularly glad I was going to act
+with her instead of Luscombe, because, as I say, Luscombe put so little
+meaning into the words. It never would have got over the footlights. Old
+Mitchell will be too pleased to get me back to worry about a trifle
+like that.'
+
+'Well, that's all right. But do you mind writing to your mother tonight,
+just a line to thank her for being so kind? It was awfully nice of her,
+you know--she stuck up for you like anything, and put all the little
+extravagances on to your ill-health; and, you see, she has spared you
+having a scene with your father--he is just going to write you a
+nice note.'
+
+'Yes, I understand, you told me before; but I have got to write a letter
+tonight, a rather important one. I'll write to the mater tomorrow.'
+
+'Oh, Bruce!'
+
+'My dear girl, business first, pleasure after. To write to one's mother
+is a pleasure. I wonder what the blessed ultimatum is. Look here, Edith,
+don't take any engagements for the next two or three weeks, will you? I
+shall want you every evening for rehearsing. I mean to make a good piece
+of work of this. I think I shall rather surprise Miss Flummerfelt and
+Mitchell.' 'Very well; but still I think you might write to your mother.
+Who is the very important business letter to?'
+
+'Why, it's to Clarkson.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Jane's Sister
+
+
+'I have made up my mind, Charles, never to go and see Hyacinth again!'
+
+'Indeed! What's the matter? What has happened?' Sir Charles looked up
+rather wearily from his book and took off his gold-rimmed spectacles.
+
+'Why should I wear myself out giving advice that is never followed?'
+indignantly said the lady.
+
+'Why, indeed?'
+
+Lady Cannon looked more than ever like a part of her own furniture,
+being tightly upholstered in velvet and buttons, with a touch of gold
+round the neck. She was distinctly put out. Her husband glanced at her
+and then at the door, as she poured out tea with an ominous air.
+
+'You know how gratified I was, how thankful to see no more of that
+odious Miss Yeo. I always disapproved of her. I felt she had a bad
+influence--at any rate not a good one--in the household. I was simply
+delighted to hear that Hyacinth never saw her now. Well, today I called
+in to give Hyacinth a suggestion about her under-housemaid--I knew she
+wanted a new one; and Jane has a sister out of a situation who, I felt
+certain, would be the very person for her; when, who do I find sitting
+chatting with Hyacinth, and taking the lead in the conversation in the
+same odious way she always did, but Miss Yeo!'
+
+'Oh, she has come back, has she? Well, I'm glad she's all right. Poor
+old Anne! How is she looking?'
+
+'Looking!' almost screamed Lady Cannon. 'As if it mattered how she
+looked! What did she ever look like? She looked the same as ever.
+Although it's a lovely day, she had on a mackintosh and a golf-cap and
+dogskin riding-gloves. She was dressed for a country walk in the rain,
+but hardly suitable for a visit to Hyacinth. How ever, that is not the
+point. The point is her extraordinary impertinence and disrespect to
+_me_. I naturally took scarcely any notice of her presence beyond a
+slight bow. I made no reference whatever to her sudden disappearance,
+which, though exceedingly ill-bred and abrupt, I personally happened to
+be very glad of. I merely said what I had come to say to Hyacinth: that
+Jane's sister was looking for a situation, and that Hyacinth's was the
+very one to suit her. Instead of allowing Hyacinth to speak, what does
+Miss Yeo do but most impertinently snap me up by saying--what do you
+suppose she asked me, Charles?'
+
+'How on earth could I possibly guess?'
+
+'She asked me, in a hectoring tone, mind, what I knew about Jane's
+sister! Daring to ask _me a thing like that_!'
+
+'What did you say?'
+
+'I answered, in a very proper and dignified way, of course, that I
+personally knew nothing whatever about her, but that I was always glad
+to get a good place for a relative of any domestic of mine; so Miss Yeo
+answered that she thought her sister--I mean Jane--having been with me
+five years was a circumstance not in her favour at all, quite the
+contrary, and she would strongly advise Hyacinth not to take Jane's
+sister on so flimsy recommendation. I was thunderstruck. But this is not
+all. Before I left Miss Yeo dared to invite me to go to see her and her
+friends, and even went so far as to say she could get me an invitation
+to a musical party they are giving in a boarding-house in Bloomsbury!
+She says they have charming musical evenings every Sunday, and sometimes
+play dumb crambo! It was really almost pathetic. To ask _me_ to play
+dumb crambo! The woman can have no sense of humour!'
+
+'I'm not so sure of that,' murmured Sir Charles.
+
+'I merely replied that I had a great deal to do, and could make no
+engagements at present. I did not like to hurt her feelings by pointing
+out the glaring incongruity of her suggestion, but really I was
+astonished; and when I said this about the engagements, she answered,
+"Oh well, never mind; no doubt we shall often meet here," almost as if
+she guessed my strong aversion to seeing her at Hyacinth's house. Then
+she went away; and I took the opportunity to advise Hyacinth against
+encouraging her. Hyacinth seemed extremely vexed and did not take my
+suggestion at all well. So now, if I know I am to run the risk of
+meeting that person there and, as I say, am to give advice to no
+purpose, I prefer to keep away altogether.'
+
+'Did you ask Hyacinth how it was Miss Yeo turned up again?'
+
+'I did; and she answered that Anne could not live without her I Did you
+ever hear of anything so ridiculous in your life?'
+
+'One can understand it,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'I can't. What use can she possibly be to Hyacinth?'
+
+'It isn't only a question of use, I suppose. They've been great friends
+for years, but as far as that goes, there's not the slightest doubt Anne
+could be of great use if she chose. Hyacinth isn't practical, and has
+never learnt to be, and Anne is.'
+
+'Then you approve?' said Lady Cannon in a low voice of anger; 'you
+defend my being insulted, contradicted, and--and--asked to play dumb
+crambo by such a person as Miss Yeo!'
+
+'Oh, no, my dear; of course I don't. But I daresay she didn't mean to be
+rude; she was always rather eccentric, and she can be very tactful when
+she likes. She never was in the slightest degree in the way when she was
+Hyacinth's companion and actually lived with her, so I don't see how she
+possibly can be now by going to see her occasionally. Really, I rather
+like Anne Yeo.'
+
+'Oh, you do,' said his wife furiously; 'then I regret to say we differ
+very radically. It is _most_ unnecessary that you should like her
+at all.'
+
+'No doubt it is unnecessary, but how can it possibly hurt you? When I
+say I like her, I mean that I have a friendly sort of feeling for her. I
+think she's a very good sort, that's all.'
+
+'Then perhaps if _you_ were Cecil Reeve you would like her to live in
+the house altogether?'
+
+'Oh, I don't go so far as that,' said Sir Charles.
+
+'What I _can't_ get over,' continued Lady Cannon, who could never
+forgive the slightest opposition, and was intensely annoyed and
+surprised at her husband for once being of a different opinion, 'what I
+_can't_ forgive is her astonishing interference on the question of
+Jane's sister! When I know that it is the very situation to suit the
+girl! Now, in future, whatever difficulty Hyacinth may be in, I shall
+never come forward again with _my_ help and experience. I wash my hands
+of it. It was bad enough before; Hyacinth forgot every single thing I
+told her, but she never contradicted me and seemed grateful for my
+advice. But now--now that she has that creature to make her believe that
+my opinions are not worth considering, of course it is all over. I am
+sorry for Hyacinth, very sorry. By this, by her own folly, she loses a
+chance that very few young married women have--a chance of getting an
+under-housemaid, whose sister has been with me for five years! I have no
+doubt whatever in my own mind that it would have been arranged today,
+and that I should have brought the good news back to Jane, if it hadn't
+been for that unpleasant and unnecessary Miss Yeo. Poor thing! It is
+very hard on her.'
+
+'What extraordinary creatures women are!' said Sir Charles.
+'May I ask whom you are pitying now, Anne or Hyacinth?'
+
+'Neither,' said Lady Cannon, with dignity as she left the room.
+'I was pitying Jane's sister.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+The Drive
+
+
+From time to time invitations had been received from the Selseys, all of
+which Cecil had asked Hyacinth to refuse on various pretexts. As she was
+convinced that he intended never to see Lady Selsey again if he could
+possibly help it, she made no objection, and did not even remark to him
+that it would look odd.
+
+One afternoon Cecil was in St James's Street when he remembered that
+there was an exhibition at Carfax's. He strolled in, and was for the
+moment quite taken by surprise at the evident gaiety of the crowd. It
+seemed so incongruous to hear laughter at a private view, where it is
+now usual to behave with the embarrassed and respectful gloom
+appropriate to a visit of condolence (with the corpse in the next room).
+
+Then he remembered that it was an exhibition of Max Beerbohm's
+caricatures, and that people's spirits were naturally raised at the
+sight of the cruel distortions, ridiculous situations, and fantastic
+misrepresentations of their friends and acquaintances on the walls.
+
+Cecil was smiling to himself at a charming picture of the Archbishop of
+Canterbury, when someone touched him on the shoulder.
+
+He turned round. It was Lord Selsey with his wife. He looked suave and
+debonair as ever, with his touch of attenuated Georgian dandyism. She
+had not changed, nor had her long brown eyes lost their sly and
+fascinating twinkle. Evidently Lord Selsey had not been able--if indeed
+he had tried--to persuade her to take much trouble about her appearance,
+but he had somehow succeeded in making her carelessness seem
+picturesque. The long, rather vague cloak that she wore might pass--at
+any rate, in a picture-gallery--as artistic, and the flat hat with its
+long brown feather suggested a Rembrandt, and must have been chosen for
+her against her will, no doubt by her husband. She really looked
+particularly plain this afternoon, but at the first glance Cecil admired
+her as much as ever.
+
+'It's most fortunate we've met you. I have to go on somewhere, and you
+must drive Eugenia home. You must have a lot to talk about,' Lord
+Selsey said.
+
+Cecil began to make an excuse.
+
+'Oh, you can't refuse! Are you afraid of me? Don't you want to have a
+talk with your aunt?' said Eugenia.
+
+He had no choice, and ten minutes later found himself driving in a
+hansom with his old love.
+
+'Well, tell me, Cecil, aren't you happy? Weren't we quite right?'
+
+'Of course,' said he.
+
+'What an absurd boy you are. It's nice to see you again. I feel just
+like a mother to you. When am I going to see Hyacinth? Why won't you let
+me be friends with her? I fell in love with her at first sight. I
+suppose she worships you, eh? And you take it as a matter of course, and
+give yourself airs. Oh, I know you! I like Ted very much. He's a
+wonderful man. He knows everything. He's--what's the word--volatile?
+No, versatile. He's a walking encyclopaedia of knowledge. He can write
+Persian poetry as soon as look at you, and everything he hasn't learnt
+he knows by instinct. He has the disposition of an angel and the voice
+of a gazelle. No, wait a minute; do I mean gazelles? Gazelles don't
+sing, do they? I must mean nightingales. He sings and plays really
+beautifully. Why didn't you tell me what a rare creature your uncle is?
+He has the artistic temperament, as they call it--without any of the
+nasty temper and horrid unpunctuality that goes with it. I really do
+admire Ted, Cecil. I think he's perfect.'
+
+'That is most satisfactory,' said Cecil.
+
+She burst out laughing.
+
+'Oh, Cecil, you haven't changed a bit! But marvellous and angelic as Ted
+is, it's a sort of relief in a way to meet an ordinary man. _You_ don't
+know all about everything, do you? If I asked you the most difficult
+question about art or science or history or metaphysics, or even dress,
+you wouldn't be able to answer it, would you? Do you always keep your
+temper? Is your judgement thoroughly sound? Can you talk modern Greek,
+and Arabian? I think not. You're full of faults, and delightfully
+ignorant and commonplace. And it's jolly to see you again.'
+
+'Eugenia, you're the same as ever. Don't go home yet. Let's go for a
+drive.'
+
+'But oughtn't you to go back to your wife? I daresay she's counting the
+minutes. Nothing could ever grow prosaic to her, not even being
+married to you.'
+
+'She's gone out somewhere, with Anne Yeo, I think. Do, Eugenia; I shall
+never ask you again. Just for once, like old times. I couldn't stand the
+idea of going to see you at Selsey House; it depressed and irritated me.
+This is different.'
+
+'All right,' said Eugenia. 'Then make the most of it. I shan't do it
+again.'
+
+'Where shall we drive?'
+
+'I've always wondered what happened at the very end of the Cromwell
+Road. Let's drive there, and then you can leave me at home. That will be
+quite a long way. It's rather a mad idea, Cecil, but it's fun. Isn't it
+just like Ted to ask you to take me home? You see what a darling, clever
+creature he is. He guessed--he knew we should be a little excited at
+meeting again. He wanted to get it over by leaving us quite free
+to talk.'
+
+'I must say I shouldn't have done that in his place,' said Cecil.
+
+'Oh, you! You might have had some cause of jealousy. He never could. But
+don't think I shall allow any more freaks like this. In a way I'm rather
+pleased you haven't forgotten me, Cecil.'
+
+'Who could ever forget you? Who could ever get tired of you?'
+
+'You could; and you would have by now, if I had been foolish enough to
+marry you.'
+
+She seemed to Cecil, as ever, a delightful medley of impulses, whims,
+and fancies. For him there was always some magic about her; in her pale
+radiance he still found the old dazzling, unaccountable charm....
+
+
+'Hyacinth, do let us score off Lady Cannon, and get the housemaid
+without her help.'
+
+'Why, I have, Anne, I advertised all by myself. Several came to see me
+yesterday.'
+
+'Well, what did you do about it?'
+
+'Nothing particular. Oh yes; I did. I wrote down the address of one or
+two. Emma Sinfield, Maude Frick, Annie Crutcher, and Mary Garstin. Which
+shall I have, Anne--which name do you like best?'
+
+'Emma Sinfield, I think, or if she doesn't do, I rather fancy Garstin.
+Where does Emma live?'
+
+'In the Cromwell Road. We ought to go and ask for her character today.'
+
+'You go, then, and I'll go with you. You won't know what to ask. I'll do
+it for you.'
+
+'All right. We may as well drive there as anywhere.'
+
+
+Anne declared the character quite satisfactory, for Emma Sinfield's late
+employer, although displaying the most acute conscientiousness, could
+find no fault with her except a vaulting ambition and wild desire to
+better herself, which is not unknown in other walks of life, and they
+were driving away in the motor when they came face to face with Cecil
+and Eugenia in a hansom. He was talking with so much animation that he
+did not see them. She was looking straight before her.
+
+Hyacinth turned pale as death and seized Anne's hand. Anne said nothing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+The Quarrel
+
+
+'So that's why he wouldn't take me to see her! He's been meeting her in
+secret. My instinct was right, but I didn't think he would do that now.
+Oh, to think he's been deceiving me!'
+
+'But you mustn't be in such a hurry to judge.' protested Anne; 'it may
+be just some accidental thing. Hyacinth, do take my advice. Don't say
+anything about it to him, and see if he mentions it. If he doesn't, then
+you'll have some reason for suspecting him, and we'll see what can
+be done.'
+
+'He won't mention it--I know he won't. What accident could make them
+meet in a hansom in the Cromwell Road? It's too cruel! And I thought she
+was good. I didn't know she'd be so wicked as this. Why, they've only
+been married a few months. He never loved me; I told you so, Anne. He
+ought not to have married me. He only did it out of pique. He never
+cared for anyone but that woman.'
+
+'Is it hopeless to ask you to listen to reason? So far you have no proof
+of anything of the kind. Certainly not that he cares for her now.'
+
+'Didn't I see his face? I don't think he's ever looked like that at me.'
+
+If Anne had had a momentary feeling of triumph, of that resignation to
+the troubles of other people that we are all apt to feel when the
+trouble is caused by one of whom we are jealous, the unworthy sentiment
+could not last at the sight of her friend's grief.
+
+'This is serious, Hyacinth. And everything depends on your being clever
+now. I don't believe that she can possibly mean any harm. She never did.
+Why on earth should she now? And if you remember, she didn't look a bit
+interested. There must be some simple explanation.'
+
+'And if there isn't?'
+
+'Then a strong line must be taken. He must be got away from her.'
+
+"To think of having to say that! And he says he loves me! On our
+honeymoon I began to believe it. Since we have been home I told you I
+had vague fears, but nothing like this. It's an outrage."
+
+"It isn't necessarily an outrage for your husband to drive his aunt in a
+hansom."
+
+"Don't make fun of me, Anne, when you know she was formerly--"
+
+"But she wasn't, my dear. That's just the point. I'm perfectly sure, I
+_really_ believe, that she never regarded him in that way at all. She
+looks on him as a boy, and quite an ordinary boy."
+
+"Ah, but he isn't ordinary!"
+
+"What ever you do, Hyacinth, don't meet him by making a scene. At
+present he associates you with nothing but gentleness, affection, and
+pleasure. That is your power over him. It's a power that grows. Don't
+let him have any painful recollections of you."
+
+"But the other woman, according to you, never gave him pleasure and
+gentleness and all that--yet you see he turns to her."
+
+"That's a different thing. She didn't love him."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"And if I find he doesn't mention the meeting, deceives me about it,
+don't you even advise me to charge him with it then?"
+
+"It is what I should advise, if I wanted you to have a frightful
+quarrel--perhaps a complete rupture. If you found out he had deceived
+you, what would you really do?"
+
+Hyacinth stood up.
+
+"I should--no, I couldn't live without him!"
+
+She broke down.
+
+"I give you two minutes by the clock to cry," said Anne dryly, "not a
+second more. If you spoil your eyes and give yourself a frightful
+headache, what thanks do you suppose you'll get?"
+
+Hyacinth dried her eyes.
+
+"Nothing he says, nothing he tells me, even if he's perfectly open about
+the drive this afternoon, will ever convince me that he's not in love
+with her, and that's the awful thing."
+
+"Even if that were true, it's not incurable. You're his wife. A thousand
+times prettier--and twenty years younger! The longer he lives with you
+the more fond he'll grow of you. You are his life--and a very charming
+life--not exactly a dull duty. She is merely--at the worst--a whim."
+
+'Horrid creature! I believe she's a witch,' Hyacinth cried.
+
+'Don't let us talk it over any more. Just as if your own instinct won't
+tell you what to do far better than I ever could! Besides, you
+understand men; you know how to deal with them by nature--I never could.
+I see through them too well. I merely wanted to warn you--being myself a
+cool looker-on--to be prudent, not to say or do anything irrevocable. If
+you find you can't help making a scene, well, make one. It can't do much
+harm. It's only that making oneself unpleasant is apt to destroy one's
+influence. Naturally, people won't stand being bullied and interfered
+with if they can help it. It isn't human nature.'
+
+'No; and it isn't human nature to share the person one loves with anyone
+else. That I could never do. I shall show him that.'
+
+'The question doesn't arise. I feel certain you're making a mountain out
+of a mole-hill, dear. Well--cheer up!'
+
+Anne took her departure.
+
+
+As Cecil came in, looking, Hyacinth thought, particularly and
+irritatingly handsome, she felt a fresh attack of acute jealousy. And
+yet, in spite of her anger, her first sensation was a sort of
+relenting--a wish to let him off, not to entrap him into deceiving her
+by pretending not to know, not to act a part, but to throw herself into
+his arms, violently abusing Eugenia, forgiving him, and imploring him
+vaguely to take her away.
+
+She did not, however, give way to this wild impulse, but behaved
+precisely as usual; and he, also, showed no difference. He told her
+about the pictures, and said she must come and see them with him, but he
+said nothing whatever of having seen Lady Selsey. He was deceiving her,
+then! How heartless, treacherous, faithless--and horribly handsome and
+attractive he was! She was wondering how much longer she could keep her
+anger to herself, when by the last post she received a note. It was from
+the Selseys, asking her and Cecil to dine with them on an evening
+near at hand.
+
+Her hand trembled as she passed the letter to Cecil.
+
+'Am I to refuse?' she asked.
+
+He answered carelessly--
+
+'Oh, no! I suppose we may as well accept.'
+
+The words 'Have you seen her yet?' were on her lips, but she dared not
+say them. She was afraid he would tell her the truth.
+
+'Have you any objection?' he asked.
+
+She didn't answer, but walked to the door and then turned round and
+said--
+
+'None whatever--to _your_ going. You can go where you please, and do as
+you like. But I shall certainly not go with you!'
+
+'Hyacinth!'
+
+'You've been deceiving me, Cecil. Don't speak--please don't--because you
+would lie to me, and I couldn't bear it. I saw you driving with that
+woman today. I quite understand that you're beginning to think it would
+be better I should go to her house. No doubt you arranged it with her.
+But I'm not going to make it so convenient for you as all that!'
+
+'My dear child, stop, listen!--let me explain. We met accidentally at
+the picture-gallery, and her husband himself asked me to drive her home.
+I couldn't get out of it.'
+
+'Oh! He asked you to drive her home! You went a long way round, Cecil.
+The Cromwell Road is scarcely on the way to Regent's Park from St
+James's Street. Anyhow, you need not have done it. I have felt for some
+time that you don't really care for me, and I'm not going to play the
+part of the deceived and ridiculous wife, nor to live an existence of
+continual wrangling. I'm disappointed, and I must accept the
+disappointment.'
+
+'My dearest girl, what do you mean?'
+
+'Let us separate!' she answered. 'I will go abroad somewhere with Anne,
+and you can stay here and go on with your intrigue. I doubt if it will
+make you very happy in the end--it is too base, under the circumstances.
+At any rate, you're perfectly free.'
+
+'You are absolutely wrong, Hyacinth. Terribly wrong--utterly mistaken! I
+swear to you that today is the first time I've seen her since she
+married. She wants to know you better--to be your friend. That is why
+she asked us again. She's devoted to her husband. It was a mere chance,
+our drive today--there's nothing in it. But still, though I'm absolutely
+innocent, if you _wish_ to leave me, I shall not stand in your way. You
+want to go abroad with Anne Yeo, do you? Upon my word, I believe you
+prefer her to me!'
+
+'You are grotesque, Cecil. But, at least, I can believe what she says. I
+know she would not be treacherous to me.'
+
+'I suppose it was she who put this pretty fancy in your head--this
+nonsense about my imaginary flirtation with--Lady Selsey?'
+
+'Was it Anne who made you drive with Lady Selsey, and not tell me about
+it? No, I can't believe you--I wish I could. This is all I've seen, so
+it's all you acknowledge. For a long time I've known that it was she who
+was between us. You have always cared for her. I suppose you always
+will. Well, I am not going to fight with her.'
+
+She threw the note on the table.
+
+'You can answer it! Say you'll go, but that I am going away. I shall
+probably go tomorrow.'
+
+The door closed behind her. Cecil was left alone.
+
+'By Jove!' he said to himself; and then more slowly, 'By--Jove!'
+
+He lighted a cigarette and immediately threw it away. He rang the bell,
+and when the servant came, said he didn't want anything. He went into
+the dining-room, poured out some brandy-and-soda. He looked at it and
+left it untouched. Then, suddenly, he went upstairs. There was an
+expression on his face of mingled anxiety, slight amusement, and
+surprise. He went to her room. The door was locked.
+
+'Hyacinth,' he said in a low voice, 'Hyacinth, darling, do open the
+door.... I want to speak to you. Do answer. You are quite mistaken, you
+know.... You know I don't care for anyone but you, dear. It's too
+absurd. Open the door!'
+
+'Please go away, Cecil.'
+
+'But, I say, I _insist_ on your opening the door! I _will_ come in;
+you're treating me shamefully, and I won't stand it. Do you hear?'
+
+She came close to the door and said in a low, distinct voice--
+
+'I don't wish to see you, and you must please leave me alone. I'm busy.'
+
+'Busy! Good Lord! What are you doing?'
+
+'I'm packing,' she answered.
+
+He waited a second, and then went downstairs again and sat down in the
+arm-chair.
+
+'By Jove!' he exclaimed again. 'By--Jove!'
+
+His thoughts were more eloquent. But a baffled Englishman is rarely very
+articulate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+Anne and Eugenia
+
+
+'If you please, my lady, there's someone called to see you.'
+
+Eugenia looked up in surprise. She was in the library, occupied in
+cataloguing Lord Selsey's books.
+
+'It's a--well--it's not exactly a young person, my lady. She says she's
+sure you will see her. The name is Miss Yeo.'
+
+'Miss Yeo?' Eugenia looked puzzled. 'Show her in at once.'
+
+Anne came in, coolly.
+
+'I'm afraid you hardly remember me, Lady Selsey,' she said. 'We met last
+summer. I was Miss Verney's companion.'
+
+Eugenia held out her hand cordially.
+
+'Of course, I remember you very well. Why, it was here we met! At that
+musical party! Do sit down, Miss Yeo. Won't you take off your
+mackintosh?'
+
+'No, thanks. I must apologise for intruding. The fact is I've come about
+something important. It's about Mrs Reeve.'
+
+'Mrs Reeve?' Eugenia leant eagerly forward. 'Do, do tell me! Anything
+about her interests me so much.'
+
+'You'll think me very impertinent, Lady Selsey. But I can't help it.
+I'll come straight to the point.'
+
+'Do, please.'
+
+'Mrs Reeve has had a terrible quarrel with her husband. She would have
+left him this morning, but that I persuaded her to wait. I came to tell
+you because I felt sure you would be sorry. It's about you,
+Lady Selsey.'
+
+'About me!'
+
+'Yes. She saw you driving with her husband, and he didn't mention it.
+She's jealous of you. Of course he explained it, but she doesn't believe
+him. I thought he probably would not say anything about it to you. I
+know, of course, it's a sort of misunderstanding. But I thought perhaps
+you could do something about it to make it all right.'
+
+'I _am_ grieved,' said Eugenia, clasping her hands. 'You know Cecil was
+an old friend of mine, don't you? I met him again after many months, and
+in a foolish impulse we went for a drive. That is all, of course. Miss
+Yeo, I'm sure you're her true friend. This quarrel must be made up. What
+can I do? What do you advise?'
+
+'Even if this particular quarrel is patched up, she would always be
+suspicious and jealous of you. It makes her miserable.'
+
+'Poor darling, how ridiculous! I'm sure I'd be only too pleased never to
+see the silly boy again.'
+
+'I quite understand all that, but, you see, she's very proud. That sort
+of rupture--all being connected as you are--would be noticeable to other
+people, and she's very sensitive--she couldn't stand it.'
+
+Eugenia thought a moment.
+
+'Suppose we went away somewhere for a year? That would give her time to
+forget this nonsense. My husband has been trying to persuade me to go to
+the Ionian Islands with him--yachting. He'll be only too pleased if I
+say I will. I'm a wretched sailor, but if it would do any good--'
+
+'It would be perfect. It would all come right.'
+
+'Then I'll do it. I had asked them to dinner for next week. I haven't
+had an answer yet. I'll telegraph, putting them off, and
+explaining why.'
+
+'That would be splendid,' said Anne.
+
+'Then it's settled,' answered Eugenia briefly.
+
+Anne got up.
+
+'Of course it must be understood that you know nothing about it--I mean
+about the quarrel,' she said.
+
+'Of course not. Not a soul, not my husband, nor Cecil, nor his wife
+shall ever know a word about your visit, Miss Yeo.'
+
+'That is very kind of you, Lady Selsey. I--well, you know I'm devoted to
+Hyacinth. At first I was almost selfishly glad about this. I could have
+got her back. We could have gone away together. But I can't see her
+miserable. She has such a mania for Cecil Reeve! Isn't it
+extraordinary?'
+
+'Most extraordinary,' replied Eugenia emphatically.
+
+'And since she's got him, she may as well be happy with him,' Anne
+added.
+
+'Of course. And she will. This misunderstanding won't do any harm in the
+long run,' said Eugenia. 'If he had any real fear of losing her, it
+would do him a great deal of good. He's devoted to her really, more than
+either of them knows.'
+
+'I daresay,' said Anne dryly. 'It's sure to be fixed up soon, and then
+I'm going away too.'
+
+'You are! Why, Miss Yeo?'
+
+'Oh, I don't know. I feel I'm not in the picture. I hate the sight of
+turtle-doves. If I've been able to do her a good turn in this little
+trouble, it will be a great consolation where I'm going.'
+
+'I'm afraid you're not happy, Miss Yeo?' said Eugenia impulsively.
+
+'I don't know that I am, particularly. But does it matter? We can't all
+be happy.'
+
+'I'm sorry. I want everyone to be happy.'
+
+'I suppose it's always a mistake to make an idol of anyone,' said Anne.
+'I'm afraid Hyacinth thinks that is what her husband has done
+about you.'
+
+'_That_ would indeed be inexcusable!'
+
+'She thought that the hopelessness of it had made him idealise you, and
+even that worried her; but when she saw you together, and it
+seemed--well, concrete treachery--she was furious.'
+
+'It will bring them nearer than they have ever been before,' assured
+Eugenia.
+
+'Good-bye,' said Anne. 'I'll write to you--once--and tell you what has
+happened.'
+
+'Do, and be quick; I shall be busy buying yachting dresses. By the way,
+you might take the telegram.'
+
+Anne waited while she wrote--
+
+'Frightfully sorry, dinner next week unavoidably postponed as
+unexpectedly leaving town for season. Writing. Eugenia Selsey.'
+
+'I will write to her when I've arranged it with my husband.'
+
+Anne took the telegram.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+'That Woman'
+
+
+By the end of their drive Eugenia had quite come to the conclusion that
+Cecil was as foolish as ever, and that she would not be alone with him
+again. At first it had amused her to see him once more, but when she saw
+the infatuation revive, she was bored and sorry--and particularly sorry
+she had given him the opportunity of expressing it. She had told him,
+definitely, that she would not see him again except with Hyacinth. He
+had declared it was merely the excitement of having met her, and
+implored forgiveness, undertaking in future to regard her as a
+friend merely.
+
+This reconciliation--for they had had quite a quarrel in the cab coming
+back--and the solemn compact and promise on Cecil's part to ignore the
+old terms, had led to the invitation that Hyacinth regarded as an insult
+added to injury.
+
+Cecil's conscience, then, as he sat by the fire that night pricked him
+not at all, for had he not made the best of resolutions? Indeed,
+privately, he rather plumed himself on his honourable conduct,
+forgetting perhaps that it was inspired more by Eugenia's attitude than
+by his own inclination.
+
+Probably he hardly realised that, had Eugenia used her influence
+differently, there was hardly anything he would not have done. To him
+facts were everything--and he believed he had meant no harm.
+
+He was still, he knew, to a great extent under the charm of his old
+friend. Still, that did not seem to have anything to do with his love
+for Hyacinth. He did not believe her threat of leaving him, but the mere
+picture of such a thing gave him great pain. He thought that if he had
+not been exactly in love with her when they married he was now; and
+could not at all imagine himself living without her. What, then, did he
+really want? He did not formulate it.
+
+_Au fond_, he was more flattered than annoyed at the position Hyacinth
+took up. He was amused, positively impressed, at her spirit. Had she not
+been so excessively pretty, it would have made him more angry and more
+anxious to rebel at the idea of her dictation. Perhaps his happiness
+with Hyacinth had gone almost too smoothly. He had become quite spoilt
+by her exquisite responsiveness, too much accustomed to the delightful
+homage of her being so much in love with him, to her charm in every way.
+He didn't at all fancy the idea of the smallest amount of this tribute
+being diminished. Suppose he offered never to see Eugenia again? After
+all, he had avoided her until today. He could continue to do so. But he
+had just arranged with her that they should all be friends. It would
+seem ridiculous. Besides, he _wanted_ to see her!
+
+Oh! what an infernal nuisance the whole thing was! It was such an
+awkward situation. As the thought developed, gradually, that he really
+would have to choose, there could be no sort of doubt that he would
+choose Hyacinth.... Yes, his fancy for Eugenia was the shadow, a
+will-o'-the-wisp; Hyacinth was the reality--a very lovely and loving
+reality. Hers was the insidious charm that grows rather than dazzles,
+the attraction that increases with time. He could not imagine, however
+long they might be married, her becoming ever a comrade merely. Mentally
+and physically, she held him far more since their marriage than before;
+he had found in her a thousand delightful qualities of which he had
+never dreamed.
+
+Then that mad, capricious creature, Eugenia, meeting him, must make him
+take her for a drive and spoil it all! He began to get rather angry with
+her. Certainly since this row about her, he felt he liked her less. Why
+couldn't she stick to Uncle Ted--as she thought him so marvellous--and
+leave _him_ alone?
+
+With this unjust and inconsistent movement of irritation, he again
+attempted speaking to Hyacinth through the door, assuring her that if
+she would only open it, he would convince her. But as he received no
+answer, he was too proud to say any more, and retired sulkily to his
+own room.
+
+To his great surprise, he fell asleep almost immediately.
+
+
+The next morning he went out without seeing Hyacinth, but left a message
+that he would be in at one, and wished to speak to her. He thought this
+would give her time to recover, or even perhaps to speak to Anne. At
+heart he did not believe Anne would give her any but sensible advice,
+though he now began to feel a little jealous of her influence.
+
+When he came back he found Hyacinth in the boudoir. She looked pale, but
+particularly pretty, with a little air of tragic composure.
+
+'May I ask if you still think seriously of leaving me?' he asked
+sarcastically.
+
+'I haven't settled anything yet.'
+
+'Why is that? Won't Anne go with you?'
+
+She avoided answering, but said, 'I've been thinking things over, Cecil,
+and assuming that what you told me yesterday was true--that you met
+_that woman_ for the first time again yesterday--I will not--go away. We
+will remain outwardly as we have been. But as long as I believe, as I
+do, that you are in love with her, I intend to be merely a friend
+to you.'
+
+'A friend? What utter nonsense! I refuse to consent to anything so
+absurd. I won't stand it!'
+
+'I shall not,' continued Hyacinth, taking no notice, 'interfere with
+your freedom at all. I don't ask you not to see her. You can go there
+when you like. I couldn't bear the idea that I was putting a restraint
+on your liberty, so that even if you offered--which you haven't--to give
+up seeing her at all--I wouldn't accept such a _sacrifice_!'
+
+Cecil laughed impatiently.
+
+'Considering I've avoided her till yesterday--'
+
+'Ah, you admit it! That shows--that proves you care for her.'
+
+'Don't you own yourself you were probably wrong--that you misunderstood
+about the drive?' he asked.
+
+'I assume that I can believe your word--that is why I'm not leaving you.
+Do you accept my terms?'
+
+His eyes flashed; he walked towards her violently, overturning a little
+table.
+
+'No, I don't,' he said, 'and I never shall! It's infernal, unjust,
+ridiculous. You are my wife!'
+
+She seemed not offended at his violence, but she said--
+
+'Think it over till tomorrow. You understand that unless you agree to
+our each going our own way I shall not remain here.'
+
+He came a step nearer. At this moment the door opened and the servant
+announced lunch.
+
+Cecil, without saying another word, went out of the house. The door
+banged loudly.
+
+At the sound Hyacinth burst into tears. 'Oh, why am I so miserable?' she
+sobbed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+Raggett's Sense of Humour
+
+
+'Edith,' said Bruce, 'I'm rather worried about Raggett.'
+
+'Are you? Why?'
+
+'Well, the last time I met him, he came up and asked me if I knew the
+difference between a sardine and a hedgehog. Of course I said no,
+thinking it was some riddle, but he only answered, "Then you _must_ be
+a fool!"'
+
+Edith smiled.
+
+'Is that all?'
+
+'No, it is _not_ all. It will give you a shock, what I'm going to tell
+you now. At the office--at the _office_, mind--I received a letter from
+Raggett, written on a crumpet.'
+
+'On a what?'
+
+'On a crumpet. The letter was gummed on; the thing had a stamp, and was
+properly addressed to me, and it came through the post. The note itself
+was quite rational, but the postscript--what do you suppose the
+postscript said?'
+
+'I can't think.'
+
+'It said, "PS--Please excuse my writing to you on a crumpet, as I
+haven't a muffin!"'
+
+Edith laughed.
+
+'It's all very well to laugh, but it's a very sad thing. The poor chap
+is going off his head. I don't know what to do about it.'
+
+'He isn't really, Bruce. I know what it is. I can explain the whole
+thing. Last time I saw him--he called the day you were rehearsing--he
+said he had given up being a Legitimist, and was going to try, if
+possible, to develop a sense of humour. He thinks for one thing it will
+please _me_. I'm sure he hopes you will tell me the story about the
+crumpet, and that I shall admire him for it.'
+
+'Do you seriously mean that he's trying to be funny on your account?'
+
+'That's the idea.'
+
+'But what have you to do with his career? What is it to you? I mean,
+what is it to him--whether you like people to be funny or serious?'
+
+'Nothing, really.'
+
+'You admit openly, Edith, that you know he has such a liking for you
+that he is becoming a clown in the hope that you will think him witty?'
+
+'That is it. He's afraid he's a bore--too dull. He wants to amuse me.
+That's all.'
+
+'What right has he to wish anything of the kind? Have you not got me, if
+you wish to be amused? If I thought that you were right--but, mind you,
+I don't; all women have their little vanities, and I believe it's a
+delusion of yours about Raggett--I think he's simply been getting a
+little queer in the head lately. However, if I did think it, I should
+consider it an outrage. To write me a letter on a crumpet, as a _joke_!
+Joke, indeed! Men have been called out for less, Edith.'
+
+Bruce thought a little while, then he said--
+
+'I'll take no notice of it this time. But if I have any more nonsense
+from Raggett, I shall ask for an explanation. I shall say to him, "My
+wife tells me that your tone, which I consider greatly wanting in
+deference to me, is meant as homage to her! What do you mean?" I shall
+say to Raggett, just like this, "What the--"'
+
+Edith already regretted her candour. 'No, no; you mustn't bully poor
+Raggett. Perhaps I was wrong. I daresay he wanted to amuse us both.'
+
+'That is more likely,' said Bruce, relenting. 'But he's going the wrong
+way to work if he wishes to retain my good opinion of him. And so I
+shall tell him if he gives me any more of this sort of thing.'
+
+'Instead of bothering about Raggett, I do wish you would answer your
+father's letter, Bruce.'
+
+'Good gracious; surely I need not answer it at once!'
+
+'I think you should.'
+
+'Well, what does he say?'
+
+Bruce had such a dislike to plain facts that he never, if he could avoid
+it, would read a letter to himself containing any business details.
+
+Edith took out the letter.
+
+'Why I've told you already, but you wouldn't listen. On condition that
+you are not late at the office or absent from it except on holidays, for
+any reason, either pleasure or illness, for the next two years, your
+father will pay the debt and help you to start fresh.'
+
+'But how can I be sure I shan't be ill? A man in my delicate state.'
+
+'Oh, assume that you won't. Try not to be--promise to be well. Surely
+it's worth it?'
+
+'Very well, perhaps it is. What a curious, eccentric man the governor
+is! No other man would make such extraordinary conditions. Look here,
+you can write for me, Edith dear, and say I accept the arrangement, and
+I'm awfully obliged and grateful and all that. You'll know how to put
+it. It's a great nuisance though, for I was thinking of giving up the
+whole of tomorrow to rehearsing--and chucking the office. And now I
+can't. It's very awkward.'
+
+'Well, I'll write for you, though you certainly ought to do it yourself,
+but I shall say you are going to see them, and you will--next Sunday,
+won't you?'
+
+'Sunday would be rather an awkward day. I've made a sort of vague
+engagement. However, if you insist, very well.'
+
+'I can't quite understand,' said Edith, after a pause, 'how it is that
+the rehearsals take so long now. Yesterday you said you had to begin at
+eleven and it wasn't over till half-past four. And yet you have only two
+or three words to say in the second act and to announce someone in
+the first.'
+
+'Ah, you don't understand, my dear. One has to be there the whole time
+so as to get into the spirit of the thing. Rehearsals sometimes take
+half the night; especially when you're getting to the end. You just stop
+for a minute or two for a little food, and then start again. Yesterday,
+for instance, it was just like that.'
+
+'Where did you lunch?'
+
+'Oh, I and one or two of the other men looked in at the Carlton.'
+
+'It can't have taken a minute or two. It's a good distance from Victoria
+Street.'
+
+'I know, but we went in the Mitchells' motor. It took no time. And then
+we rushed back, and went on rehearsing. _How_ we work!'
+
+'And what were you going to do tomorrow?'
+
+He hesitated. 'Oh, tomorrow? Well, now, after this promise to the
+governor, I shan't be able to get there till half-past four. I should
+have liked to get there by twelve. And it's very awkward indeed, because
+Miss Flummerfelt asked me to take her out to lunch, and I half promised.
+In fact, I could hardly get out of it.'
+
+'She asked you to take her alone?'
+
+'Oh, in a thing like this you all become such pals and comrades; you
+don't stop to think about chaperones and things. Besides, of course, I
+meant to ask you to join us.'
+
+'Very sweet of you.'
+
+'There's the post,' remarked Bruce.
+
+He went out into the little hall. Edith went with him.
+
+'Who is your letter from?' asked Edith, as they went back.
+
+Bruce blushed a little.
+
+'It _looks_ something like Miss Flummerfelt's handwriting.'
+
+'Oh, do show me the letter!' said Edith, as he seemed about, having read
+it, to put it in the fire. He was obliged to allow her to take it, and
+she read:--
+
+'Dear Mr Ottley,
+
+'It's very kind of you to ask me to lunch tomorrow, but I can't possibly
+manage it. I'm engaged tomorrow, besides which I never go out anywhere
+without my mother.
+
+'Yours sincerely,
+
+'Elsa Flummerfelt.'
+
+
+Edith smiled. 'That's fortunate,' she said. 'After all, you won't have
+the awkwardness of putting her off. What a good thing.'
+
+'I assure you, Edith,' said Bruce, looking very uncomfortable, 'that I
+had forgotten which way it was. But, of course, I felt I ought--as a
+matter of decent civility to Mitchell, don't you know--to ask her once.
+I suppose now that you won't like me going to the rehearsals any more?'
+
+'Oh, no! not at all,' said Edith serenely. 'I see, on the contrary, that
+there is nothing at all to be alarmed at. What a nice girl Miss
+Flummerfelt must be! I like her handwriting.'
+
+'I see nothing particularly nice about her.'
+
+'But she's wonderfully handsome, isn't she?'
+
+'Why no; she has a clumsy figure, drab hair, and a colourless
+complexion. Not at all the type that I admire.'
+
+'You told me the other day that she was an ideal blonde. But, of course,
+that,' said Edith, 'was before she refused to lunch with you!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+Sir Charles
+
+
+Early that afternoon Hyacinth was sitting in the library in the depths
+of depression when Sir Charles Cannon was announced. She had forgotten
+to say she was not at home, or she would not have received him; but it
+was now too late.
+
+He came in, and affecting not to see there was anything the matter, he
+said--
+
+'I've come for some consolation, Hyacinth,'
+
+'Consolation? Is Aunt Janet in a bad temper? I saw her pass yesterday in
+a green bonnet. I was afraid there was something wrong.'
+
+'Is that so? This is interesting. Can you actually tell the shade of her
+temper from the shade of her clothes?'
+
+'Yes. Can't you?'
+
+'I don't know that I ever thought of it.'
+
+'When Auntie is amiable she wears crimson or violet. When she's cross
+she always introduces green or brown into the scheme. You watch her and
+you'll find I'm right.'
+
+'I have observed,' said Sir Charles slowly, 'that when we're going out
+somewhere that she isn't very keen about she always wears a good deal of
+shiny jet, and when we're at home alone and something has happened to
+vex her I seem to remember that she puts on a certain shaded silk dress
+that I particularly hate--because you never know where you are with it,
+sometimes it's brown and sometimes it's yellow. It depends on the light,
+and anyhow it's hideous; it's very stiff, and rustles.'
+
+'I know. Shot taffeta! Oh, that's a very bad sign. Has she worn it
+lately?'
+
+'Yes, she has, a good deal.'
+
+'What's been the matter?'
+
+'Oh, she has--may I smoke? Thanks--some mysterious grievance against
+you. She's simply furious. It seems it has something to do with somebody
+called Jane's sister.'
+
+'Oh! Tell me about it.'
+
+'Well, it appears Jane's sister wants to come and be your housemaid, and
+you won't let her, and she's very disappointed. You've no idea how badly
+you've behaved to Jane's sister.'
+
+'Fancy! How horrid of me! Tell me some more.'
+
+'And it's all through Miss Yeo. In fact, Anne's enmity to Jane's sister
+is quite extraordinary--unheard of. By some deep and malicious plot it
+seems she prevented you yielding to your better nature--or
+something--and there it is. Oh, Hyacinth, I wish she hadn't! It makes
+your aunt so nasty to me. Yes, _I_ get the worst of it, I can tell you.'
+
+'Poor Charles! I am sorry. If I'd known that you were going to suffer
+for it, I should have insisted on engaging her. Is it too late now? I
+believe we've got another housemaid, but can't she come too?'
+
+'I fear it is too late. And when Janet has got accustomed to a grievance
+she doesn't like having it taken away either. No, nothing can be done.
+And I _am_ having a time of it! However, it's a great comfort to see
+you. You're never worried are you?'
+
+'Never worried! Why, Charles, if you only knew--of course I've _been_
+divinely happy, but just now I'm in real trouble.'
+
+He looked at her.
+
+'But I can't bear anyone to know it.'
+
+'Then don't tell me,' he said.
+
+'Oh, I must tell you! Besides, very likely you'll hear it soon.' Then
+she added,' It's not impossible that Cecil and I may separate.'
+
+'My dear child!'
+
+'I believe he likes someone else better.'
+
+'This is nonsense, Hyacinth. A mere lovers' quarrel. Of course, you must
+make it up at once. He's devoted to you. Who could help it?'
+
+She broke down.
+
+'Oh, Charles, I'm so unhappy.'
+
+Sir Charles felt furious indignation at the idea that any man could
+cause those tears to flow. He put his arm round her as if she had been
+a child.
+
+'My dear Hyacinth, don't be foolish. This is not serious; it can't be.'
+He had known her intimately since she was ten and had never seen her
+cry before.
+
+The old tenderness surged up in his heart.
+
+'Can I do anything, dear?'
+
+'No, no, Charles. I should _die_ if he knew I had told you!'
+
+'Surely it must be your imagination.'
+
+'I think he deceives me, and I know he prefers that horrid woman.'
+
+'Don't cry, Hyacinth.'
+
+She cried more, with her face buried in a cushion.
+
+He kissed the top of her head pityingly, as if in absence of mind. He
+remembered it was the first time for eight years. Then he got up and
+looked out of the window.
+
+'Cecil can't be such a blackguard. He's a very good fellow. Who is this
+new friend that you're making yourself miserable about?'
+
+'It isn't a new friend; it's Lady Selsey.'
+
+Sir Charles stared in amazement.
+
+'Eugenia! Why she's the best creature in the world--utterly incapable
+of--I'm perfectly certain she cares for nobody in the world but Selsey.
+Besides, to regard her as a rival of yours at all is grotesque, child.'
+
+'Ah, yes; you say that because you regard me almost as your daughter,
+and you think I'm pretty and younger, and so on. But that's not
+everything. There are no standards, no rules in these things. And even
+if there were, the point is not what she is, but what he thinks her. He
+thinks her wonderful.'
+
+'Well, what has happened?'
+
+'Never mind the details. I know his _feelings_--and that is everything.'
+
+'You've had a quarrel, I suppose, and he's gone out of the house in a
+temper. Is that it?'
+
+'I told him that I should leave him and go away somewhere with Anne.'
+
+'Anne wouldn't go, of course.'
+
+'You're right. She wouldn't when I asked her this morning, or I should
+be on my way to Paris by now.'
+
+'If he treated you really badly,' said Sir Charles, 'she would have
+gone. It must be that she knows there's nothing in it.'
+
+'I've offered to remain, on condition that we are merely friends. And he
+won't hear of it.'
+
+'No wonder,' said Sir Charles. 'Now Hyacinth you know you've always been
+a spoilt child and had everything on earth you wanted. You must remember
+in life sometimes little things won't go right.'
+
+'Anything might have gone wrong--anything in the world, and I would have
+borne it and not cared--but _that_!'
+
+'I would do anything to see you happy again,' he said. 'You know that.'
+
+She looked up. There is a tone in the accents of genuine love that
+nothing can simulate. She was touched.
+
+'Look here, Hyacinth, promise me to do nothing without letting me know.'
+
+'I promise, Charles.'
+
+'And I assure you that everything will come right. I know--I've had a
+little experience of the world. Won't you trust my judgement?'
+
+'I'll try. You are a comfort, Charles.'
+
+'And to think that I came to you for consolation!' he said. 'Well,
+Hyacinth, I shall bury this--forget all about it. Next time I see you
+you'll be beaming again. It's a passing cloud. Now, what do you think
+I've got to do? I've got to go home and fetch Janet to go to a meeting
+of the Dante Society at Broadwater House.'
+
+'Good gracious! What on earth does Aunt Janet know about Dante?'
+
+'Nothing, indeed. I believe she thinks he wrote a poem called "Petrarch
+and Laura." But someone told her it's the right thing to do; and when
+Janet thinks anything is the right thing--!' He took his hat and stick.
+'Try and forgive Cecil. I'm sure he adores you. We all do.'
+
+'Thanks, Charles. And I do hope Aunt Janet won't be wearing her green
+bonnet this afternoon.'
+
+'Thank you, dear, I trust not. Good-bye.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+Rehearsing
+
+
+'How did you get on at the rehearsal today?' Edith asked.
+
+Bruce was looking rather depressed.
+
+'Not very well. You can't think how much jealousy there is in these
+things! When you rehearse with people day after day you begin to find
+out what their real characters are. And Mitchell always had a very nasty
+temper. Of course, _he_ says it's quick and soon over. He thinks that's
+the best kind to have. I think he's rather proud of it. The fact is he
+has it so often that it's as bad as if it were slow and not soon over.
+First of all, you know, there was a kind of scene about whether or not I
+should shave for the part of the footman. _He_ said I ought. _I_
+declared I wouldn't ruin my appearance just for the sake of a miserable
+little part like that; in fact, I might say for a few minutes in a
+couple of hours during one evening in my life! At last we compromised.
+I'm to wear a kind of thing invented by Clarkson, or somebody like that,
+which gums down the moustache, so that you don't notice it'
+
+'But you don't notice it, anyhow, much.'
+
+'What do you mean by that?'
+
+'I don't mean anything. But I never heard of anybody noticing it. No-one
+has ever made any remark to me about it.'
+
+'They wouldn't take the liberty. It can't have passed unnoticed,
+because, if it had, why should Mitchell ask me to shave?'
+
+'There is something in that, I must admit,' she answered.
+
+'Well, I consented to this suggestion of Mitchell's, though I don't like
+it at all, and I daresay it will spoil my appearance altogether. It was
+about something else we had a bit of a tiff this afternoon. We were
+going through the whole play, and one or two people were to be allowed
+to see us. Mitchell said he expected a certain manager, who is a pal of
+his, to criticise us--give us some hints, and so on. I saw a man who
+hadn't been there before, and I spotted him at once. He looked like a
+celebrity. Without waiting for an introduction, I went up and asked him
+what he thought of our performance. He said it seemed all right. Then I
+asked him if he considered my reading of my part what he would have done
+himself, and he laughed and said, "Yes, very much the same." We were
+criticising the other actors and having a long talk--at least _I_ was
+having a long talk,--_he_ didn't say much--when he suddenly said, "I'm
+afraid you must excuse me," and went away. Then Mitchell came up to me
+and said, "How on earth is it you had so much to say to that chap?" I
+said (still believing he was the manager) that he was an old
+acquaintance of mine, at least, I had known him a long time--on and
+off--and that he seemed very pleased to see me again. Mitchell said,
+"Oh, you met him before today, did you?" I answered, "Yes, rather," and
+I said, "He was very friendly, I must say. He's very pleased with my
+performance. I shouldn't be surprised if he sends me a box for his First
+Night. If he does you must come, you and Mrs Mitchell." As a matter of
+fact, I _had_ hinted that I should like a box for the First Night at the
+Haymarket, and he had laughed good-naturedly, and said, "Oh, yes." So it
+was really no wonder that I regarded that as a promise. Well, when I
+told him that, Mitchell said, "He offered you a box, did he? Very nice
+of him. You know who he is, don't you? He's a man who has come to see
+about the electric lighting for the footlights. I've never seen him
+before." Now, you know, Edith, it was a most infernal shame of Mitchell
+to let me make the mistake with his eyes open. Here was I talking about
+acting and plays, deferentially consulting him, asking for artistic
+hints and boxes from an electrical engineer! Oh, it's too bad, it
+really is.'
+
+'So you quarrelled with Mitchell again?'
+
+'We had a few words.'
+
+'Then the manager was not there?'
+
+'No; he'd promised, but didn't turn up. I told Mitchell what I thought
+of him in very plain terms. I went so far even as to threaten to throw
+up my part, and he said, "Well, all right, if you don't like it you can
+give it up at any time," I said, "Who else could you get at the last
+minute to play a footman's part?" and he said, "Our footman!"'
+
+'That would be realism, wouldn't it?'
+
+'I was awfully hurt, but it was settled I was to stick to it. Then there
+are other things. That horrid Miss Flummerfelt--how I do dislike that
+girl--had been silly enough to go boasting to Mrs Mitchell of my
+invitation to lunch the other day.'
+
+'Boasting!' said Edith.
+
+'Yes, it was a shame, because of course I only asked her simply and
+solely as a way of returning some of the Mitchells' hospitality--'
+
+'Then why did you mind their knowing?' Edith inquired.
+
+'I _didn't_ mind their knowing. How stupid you are, Edith. But I
+objected strongly to the tone in which Miss Flummerfelt had evidently
+spoken of it--to the light in which she had represented the whole thing.
+Mrs Mitchell came up to me in her soft purring way--what a horrid little
+woman she is!'
+
+'Why, you told me she was so sweet and charming!'
+
+'I didn't know her so well then. She came up to me and said, "Oh, Mr
+Ottley, will you think it rude of me if I suggest that you don't ask
+dear Elsa out to lunch any more? She said it's so awkward always
+refusing, but she's not allowed to go out like that without her mother.
+In fact, though her father is German by birth, she's been brought up
+quite in the French style. And though, of course, we know you meant no
+harm, she's positively shocked. You really mustn't flirt with her, Mr
+Ottley. She doesn't like it. In fact, she asked me to speak to you about
+it." There was a nice position for me, Edith! Isn't Miss Flummerfelt a
+treacherous little beast?'
+
+'I thought you said she was so enormously tall. A regal-looking creature
+was what you called her the first time you met her. Anyhow, you must
+have been trying to flirt with her, Bruce. I think it rather serves you
+right. Well, what happened?'
+
+'I said that I was very much astonished at Miss Flummerfelt's
+misunderstanding me so completely. I even said that some girls have a
+way of taking everything as if it was meant--in that sort of way, and
+that I had only asked her to lunch to meet my wife. But, of course, I
+promised not to do it again. And now it will be rather awful at the
+rehearsals, because Mrs Mitchell, of course, told her back, and Miss
+Flummerfelt and I don't speak.'
+
+'Well, after all, it doesn't matter so very much. You only have to
+announce her. It's with the woman who plays Lady Jenkins you have your
+longer scene, isn't it? What is she like?'
+
+'Mrs Abbot, do you mean? Oh, I don't think much of her. She's acted
+before and thinks herself quite as good as a professional, and
+frightfully smart. She's the most absurd snob you ever saw. She had the
+cheek to criticise me and say that I don't move about the room
+naturally, like a real footman. I told her, rather ironically, that I
+was afraid I'd never been one. So she answered, "Still, you might have
+seen one." Oh, I have a good deal to go through, one way and another!'
+
+'You'll be glad when it's over, won't you?'
+
+'Very glad. The strain's telling on my health. But I've been better on
+the whole, I think, don't you?'
+
+'Yes, indeed. You know you have to be,' Edith said.
+
+'Of course--I know. Try not to make me late again tomorrow.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+The Solution
+
+
+As Sir Charles was walking back from the Reeves' house, he met Anne Yeo
+in Piccadilly. She had just taken the telegram from Eugenia. He greeted
+her warmly and asked her to walk a little way with him, to which she
+agreed, silently giving him credit for so heroically concealing his
+consciousness of her odd appearance. She herself was well aware that in
+her mackintosh, driving-gloves, and eternal golf-cap she presented a
+sufficiently singular effect, and that there were not many people in
+London at three o'clock on a sunny afternoon who would care to be found
+dead with her.
+
+'I've just seen Hyacinth,' he said.
+
+'Then you know about the trouble?'
+
+'What trouble?'
+
+'As if she could help telling you! However, it's going to be all right.'
+
+'Do you think so?'
+
+'I'm certain.'
+
+'I never thought him good enough for her,' Sir Charles said.
+
+'Who is?' she asked.
+
+'Has he really been--philandering?'
+
+'Probably. Don't all men?'
+
+'You're as great a cynic as ever, I see,' he laughingly said.
+
+'And you're as noble as ever. But I won't tax your chivalry too far.
+Good-bye,' and she abruptly left him.
+
+She was on her way to Cook's. She had suddenly decided to emigrate.
+
+Sir Charles wondered why Anne was so sure, but her words had comforted
+him. He believed her. He not only thought that she must be right, but he
+instinctively felt certain that she had taken some steps in the matter
+which would result in success. Some people liked Anne, many detested
+her, but she inspired in both friends and enemies a species of trust.
+
+At half-past seven that evening Cecil turned the key in the door and
+went into the house. It was the first time he had ever come home with a
+feeling of uneasiness and dread; a sensation at once of fear and of
+boredom. Until now he had always known that he would receive a delighted
+welcome, all sweetness and affection. He had always had the delicious
+incense of worshipping admiration swung before him in the perfumed
+atmosphere of love and peace. Had he held all this too cheaply? Had he
+accepted the devotion a little pontifically and condescendingly? Had he
+been behaving like a pompous ass? He had really enjoyed his wife's
+homage the more because he had liked to think that he still yearned for
+the impossible, that he had been deprived by Fate of his ideal, that
+absence and distance had only raised higher in his thoughts the one
+romantic passion of his life. What a fool he had been! All he felt at
+this moment about Eugenia was impatient annoyance. There is a great deal
+of the schoolboy in an Englishman of thirty. Cecil just now regarded her
+simply as the person who had got him into a row. Why had she taken him
+for that imprudent drive?
+
+As he went into the little boudoir it happened that Hyacinth was turning
+her back to him. It was usually a part of their ritual that she came to
+meet him. So this seemed to him an evil omen.
+
+She stood looking out of the window, very tall, very slender, her brown
+hair piled in its dense mass on her small head. When she turned round he
+saw she held a telegram in her hand.
+
+'What is the meaning of this?' she said, as she held it out to him.
+
+He took it from her and sat down to read it, feeling as he did so
+unpleasantly heavy, stupid, and stolid in contrast to the flash of her
+blue eyes and the pale tragedy in her face. It was the first time he had
+ever felt her inferior. As a rule the person found out in a betrayal of
+love holds, all the same, the superior position of the two. It is the
+betrayed one who is humiliated.
+
+'What does it mean?' he said. 'Why it means that they have to put us
+off. They are evidently going away. What it means is fairly obvious.'
+
+'Ah, _why_ have they put us off? You have been to see her! You must have
+arranged this. Yes, you have given me away to her, Cecil; you have let
+her know I was jealous! It is worse than anything else! I shall never
+forgive you for this.'
+
+He gave her back the telegram with an air of dazed resignation.
+
+'My dear girl, I give you my solemn word of honour that I know nothing
+whatever about it.'
+
+'Really? Well, it is very strange. It is most extraordinary! She says
+she is writing. I suppose we shall hear.'
+
+'Are we going to have dinner?'
+
+'You agree to what I suggested this morning, Cecil?'
+
+'No, I don't.'
+
+'Very well, then; I shan't dine with you.'
+
+'Oh, confound it! I don't want to go out again.'
+
+'Pray don't. I shall dine in my room,' and she walked to the door. As
+she left the room she turned round and said--
+
+'Oh, to think how that creature must be enjoying it!' and went upstairs.
+
+'If she isn't enjoying it any more than I am, she isn't having much of a
+time,' said Cecil aloud to himself. He then dined in solemn silence,
+Hyacinth (with a headache) being served in her own room.
+
+When dinner was over he was glancing through the paper, wondering how he
+should spend the evening, when a note arrived by a messenger. He saw it
+was for Hyacinth, and in Eugenia's handwriting.
+
+A few minutes later she came down, holding it in her hand.
+
+'Cecil, she has written to me. She says they're going for a long
+yachting cruise, that they won't be back in their house for a year.'
+
+'Well, have you any objection?'
+
+'Have you?' she asked, looking at him narrowly.
+
+'No, I'm only too glad!'
+
+'Did you ask her to do this?'
+
+'Don't be idiotic. How could I ask her? I've neither seen nor
+communicated with her.'
+
+'Then how do you account for it, Cecil?'
+
+'I don't account for it. Why should I? It isn't the first time Uncle
+Ted's gone yachting. Though he hasn't done it for some years. He was
+always saying he wanted to go to Crete, Samos, and the Ionian Islands.
+He used to talk a good deal about wanting to see the Leucadian Rock.'
+
+'What's that?' She spoke suspiciously.
+
+'A place that some woman threw herself into the sea from.'
+
+'Lately, do you mean?'
+
+'Oh, no--some time ago. Anyhow, he wanted to see it I'm sure _I_ don't
+know why. But that was his idea.'
+
+'Well, she _says_ they're going to Greece, so perhaps you're right. And
+are you really, really not sorry that she's going?'
+
+'Not at all, if I'm going to have a little peace now.'
+
+'Oh, Cecil,' she implored, 'have I been unfair to you?'
+
+'Horribly unfair.'
+
+'I'm very, very sorry. I see I was wrong. Oh, how could I be so horrid?'
+
+'You _were_ down on me! Why, you wanted to go away! You did make me
+pretty miserable.'
+
+'Oh, poor boy! Then you don't care a bit for that woman, really?'
+
+'Do you mean Eugenia? Not a straw!'
+
+'And, oh, Cecil, if I'm _never_ so horrid and bad-tempered again, will
+you forgive me?'
+
+'Well, I'll try,' said Cecil.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LOVE'S SHADOW ***
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