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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13017 ***
+
+FIVE NIGHTS
+
+A Novel
+
+By
+
+Victoria Cross
+
+1908
+
+
+
+
+
+
+By Victoria Cross
+
+  Five Nights
+  Life's Shop Window
+  Anna Lombard
+  Six Women
+  Six Chapters of a Man's Life
+  The Woman Who Didn't
+  To-morrow?
+  Paula
+  A Girl of the Klondike
+  The Religion of Evelyn Hastings
+  Life of my Heart
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  PART I
+
+  The Gold Night
+
+      I THE TAKU INLET
+     II THE TEA-SHOP
+    III IN THE WOOD
+
+
+  PART II
+
+  The Violet Night
+
+     IV AT THE STUDIO
+      V THE CALL OF THE CUCKOO
+
+
+  PART III
+
+  The Black Night
+
+     VI IN MAYFAIR
+    VII FREEDOM
+
+
+  PART IV
+
+  The Crimson Night
+
+   VIII LOSS
+     IX IN 'FRISCO
+      X IN THE SHADOW OF THE VOLCANO
+     XI THE WAY OF THE GODS
+
+
+  PART V
+
+  The White Night
+
+    XII THE FLAMES OF LIFE'S FURNACE
+
+
+
+
+FIVE NIGHTS
+
+
+    "The nights have different colours. Some nights are black, the
+    nights of storm: some are electric blue, some are silver, the
+    moon-filled nights: some are red under the hot planet Mars or the
+    fierce harvest moon. Some are white, the white nights of the
+    Arctic winter: but this was a violet night, a hot, mysterious,
+    violet night of Midsummer."
+
+    _LIFE'S SHOP WINDOW_.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+As one looks over any period of one's life, it appears behind one as
+a shining maze of brilliant colour with spots in it here and there of
+brighter or darker hue. Each spot represents a period of time when our
+happiness has glowed brighter or waned; sometimes it is a day, more
+often it is a night. Looking back now, over a stretch of my existence
+I see many such spots gleaming brightly; they are nights of colour.
+The history of many of these is too sacred to be written, but there
+are Five Nights, which, though not the dearest to my memory, have yet
+stamped themselves and their colour on it for ever. And the record of
+these five nights is contained in the following pages.
+
+TREVOR LONSDALE.
+
+
+
+
+PART ONE
+
+THE GOLD NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE TAKU INLET
+
+
+It was just striking three as I came up the companion-stairs on to the
+deck of the Cottage City, into the clear topaz light of a June morning
+in Alaska: light that had not failed through all the night, for in
+this far northern latitude the sun only just dips beneath the horizon
+at midnight for an hour, leaving all the earth and sky still bathed in
+limpid yellow light, gently paling at that mystic time and glowing to
+its full glory again as the sun rises above the rim.
+
+Our steamer had left the open sea and entered the Taku Inlet, and we
+were steaming very slowly up it, surrounded on every side by great
+glittering blocks of ice, flashing in the sunshine as they floated by
+on the buoyant blue water. How blue it was, the colouring of sea and
+sky! Both were so vividly blue, the note of each so deep, so intense,
+one seemed almost intoxicated with colour. I stepped to the vessel's
+side, then made my way forward and stood there; I, the lover of the
+East, dazzled by the beauty of the North! The marvellous picture
+before me was painted in but three colours, blue, gold, and white.
+
+The sides of the inlet were jagged lines of white, the sparkling
+crystalline whiteness of eternal snow on sharp-pointed, almost
+lance-like mountain peaks; the water a broad band of blue, the sky
+above a canopy of blue, and there at the end of the inlet, closing it,
+like some colossal monster crouched awaiting us, lay the Muir, the
+huge glacier, a solid wedge of ice, white also, but a transparent
+white full of blue shadows.
+
+Who shall describe the wonderful air and atmosphere of the North? Its
+brilliancy, its delicacy, its radiant diamond-like clearness? And the
+silence, the enchanted stillness of the North? Now as we crept slowly
+onwards over the vivid water between the flashing icebergs, there was
+no sound. Complete silence round us, on earth and sea and in the blue
+vault above, impressive, glittering silence. None of the passengers
+had broken their sleep to come up to the glory above them, and I stood
+alone at the forward part of the vessel gliding on through this dream
+of lustrous blue. Slowly we advanced towards the Muir; very slowly,
+for these shining bergs carried death with them if they should graze
+hard against the steamer's side, and, cautiously, steered with
+infinite pains, the little boat crept on, zigzagging between them. A
+frail little toy of man, it seemed, to venture here alone; small,
+black, impertinent atom forcing its way so hardily into this
+magnificence of colour, this silent splendour, this radiant stillness
+of the North. Into this very fastness of the most gigantic forces of
+Nature it had penetrated, and the sapphire sea supported it, the
+transparent light illumined it, the lance-like mountains looked down
+upon it, and the glistening bergs forbore to crush it, as if
+disdaining to harm so fragile a thing.
+
+Very slowly we pushed up the inlet, approaching the shimmering
+blue-green wall of ice that barred the upper end; seven hundred feet
+down below the clear surface of the water descends this wall, while
+three hundred feet of it rise above, forming a glorious shining
+palisade across the entire width of the inlet. As the sun played on
+the glittering façade, rays struck out from it as from a reflector, of
+every shade of green and blue, the deepest hue of emerald mingling
+with the lightest sapphire, iridescent, sparkling, wonderful. As we
+crept still nearer, over the living blue of the water, the continual
+fall of the icebergs from the front wall of the glacier became
+apparent. At intervals of about five minutes, with a terrific crash
+like thunder a great wedge of the glittering wall would fall forward
+into the blue-green depths, and a cloud of snowy spray rise up
+hundreds of feet into the air. The berg, thus detached, after a few
+minutes would rise to the surface, glistening, dazzling, and begin
+its joyous, buoyant voyage downwards to the sea. In all this brilliant
+setting, with this glory of light around and the triumphal crash of
+sound like the salute of cannon, amid this joyous movement and in this
+blaze of colour, amid all that seemed to personify life, we were
+watching the death of the glacier.
+
+The colossal Muir Glacier, the remains of a world the history of which
+is lost in the dim twilight none can now penetrate, is dying slowly
+through a million years. From the mountains, eternally snow-covered,
+where its huge body, three hundred and fifty miles in extent, has
+rested through the centuries, it creeps forward slowly towards the sea
+to meet its doom. Formerly its lip touched the open ocean where now
+the Taku inlet commences to run inland. But the icy waters, that yet
+are so much warmer than itself, caressed it with eroding caresses and
+melted it, and broke bergs from it and rushed inwards, following it
+till they formed the Taku Inlet, and now the process still goes on,
+the gigantic body moves forward inch by inch and the green waves break
+the bergs from its face as the sun invades its structure; and so it
+lies there, dying slowly through the countless years, glorious,
+miraculous.
+
+The Captain had promised to approach the face of the glacier as near
+as was reasonably safe and lie there at anchor for an hour, that the
+passengers might land at the side of the inlet and those who wished
+could explore the glacier.
+
+An hour! What was an hour? Those sixty golden minutes would be gone in
+a flash. Yet it would be an hour of life, of deep emotion, face to
+face with this monster, strange relic of a forgotten world, stretched
+on its glorious death-bed.
+
+I was alone still. Not another passenger had yet come up, and I could
+lean there undisturbed, trying to open my eyes still wider, to expand
+my heart, to stretch my brain, that I might drink in more of the
+inimitable grandeur and beauty round me.
+
+The nearer we drew to the glacier the closer packed became the water
+with the floating bergs; they threatened the ship now on every side,
+and so slowly did we move we hardly seemed advancing. The bergs
+flashed and shone as they passed us, rayed through with jewel-like
+colours, and on one gliding by far from the ship's side I saw two
+seals at play. For many hundred miles past these seals were the only
+living things I had seen. The forests on the shore, so thick in the
+first part of the journey by the Alaskan coast, had long since given
+way to barren rocks, snow-capped peaks, and ice-filled clefts. No life
+seemed possible there, the wide distant blue above had shown no bird
+nor shadow of bird passing. There was no voice of insect nor the least
+of Nature's children here. Between the thunderous crash of the
+ice-falls that seemed to shiver the golden air there was intense and
+solemn stillness.
+
+But the seals played merrily on their floating berg as they passed me,
+and I watched them long through field-glasses as the joyous, turbulent
+blue waves carried them far out of my sight towards the open sea.
+
+The clanging of the breakfast bell made me leave my place and go down
+for a hurried breakfast. I was chilled through, for the early morning
+air is keen, the pure breath of infinite snowfields, and I took my
+coffee gratefully amongst the crowd of hungry passengers.
+
+Rough miners some of them, going up to Sitka from the great Treadwell
+mine at Juneau, traders on their way to Fort Wrangle, and some few
+explorers. Amongst them were four men our boat had taken on board as
+we passed the mouth of the Stickeen river. They had started from
+Canada, lured by the light of the gold that lay under the snows of the
+Klondike, intending to travel there overland. Losing their way, they
+had wandered with their pack train for eighteen months in these vast
+solitudes of ice and snow, groping blindly towards the coast.
+
+Food had failed them, their horses had died by the way from want or
+fatigue. Faced by starvation, the men had eaten those of their pack
+animals that had survived, then, finally, when hope had almost left
+them, they came in sight of the sea.
+
+They were talking of this and their terrible conflict with snow-storm
+and ice-floe as I joined them, of the plans for making money with
+which they had started and their failure.
+
+I got away from them all and went back to my place as soon as I could,
+and spent the rest of the morning as I had begun it, alone at the
+forward end.
+
+There were very few passengers like myself. Not many people for mere
+pleasure would take that hazardous voyage along the coast, for it was
+new country and not a tenth of the sunken rocks and dangerous shoals
+were yet on any chart. All the way up along that rocky and treacherous
+shore we had seen the evidences of wreck and disaster everywhere.
+Above the flats of shimmering water, where the gold or crimson of
+sunset lay, rose constantly the tops of masts, shadowy and spectral,
+telling of the sunken hull, the pale corpses beneath those gleaming
+waves. Ship after ship went down out of those adventurous little
+coasting vessels that plied up and down the coast trading with the
+natives, and as we passed these half submerged masts, we often asked
+ourselves--"Will the Cottage City be more lucky?" She was trading,
+like all the other boats that go there, with the Alaskan natives, and
+to go as far north as the Muir was no part of the official programme.
+
+But the fares of the few passengers who really wished to take all
+risks and go there was a temptation and overcame the fear of the
+dreaded Taku Inlet with its monstrous crashing bergs and its
+possibility of sudden and furious storms. So the little steamer was
+here, creeping up slowly through this vision of mystic blue towards
+the glacier, which lay there white, vast, shadowy, mysterious, and my
+heart beat quicker and quicker as we approached.
+
+I went off in one of the first boats and the moment it touched the
+pebbly strand of the side of the inlet I jumped out and walked away,
+eager to be alone to enjoy the glory of it all away from the rasping
+voices, the worldly talk of my companions, the perpetual "littleness"
+of ideas that humanity drags with it everywhere.
+
+As I turned from the boat the voices followed me clearly, distinctly,
+in the exquisite rarefied air.
+
+Thin waves of laughter mingled with them from time to time, growing
+faint behind me, then the distance closed up between us and I heard no
+more.
+
+The steamer had landed about thirty passengers and crew, and they
+seemed immediately lost in these vast expanses. When I had walked a
+few minutes up the beach from the water's edge, I looked round and was
+apparently alone. Some few black dots here and there disfiguring the
+snowy slopes and glittering ice-covered rocks was all that remained of
+them. In the midst of the vivid blue-green of the inlet behind me, a
+little wedge of black, lay the steamer, the only reminder that I was
+one also of these miserable black dots and in an hour I should be
+collected and taken away as one of them. For this hour, however, I was
+free and at one with the divine glory about me.
+
+It was just noon. The sky was of a pale and perfect blue, the air
+still, of miraculous clearness and radiant with the pure light of the
+North, unshaded, unsoftened by the smallest mist or cloud. The silence
+was unbroken except for the regular thunder of the falling bergs, that
+continued with absolute precision at the five-minute interval, and the
+accompanying splash of the water. I walked on up the strand, having
+the great glistening wall of the glacier's face somewhat on my left.
+It was impossible to approach it on land, as the fervid green water
+lay deep all about its base. It was only at the side of the inlet that
+little beaches had been formed, and on one of these I stood. The
+steamer could not get nearer the glacier for fear of the floating
+bergs, and a small boat could only approach with deadliest peril at
+the risk of being crushed beneath the falling ice or swamped by the
+wild division and upheaval of the water that it caused.
+
+But here, on the beach, was a world of enchantment second only in
+beauty to the glacier itself, for many of the bergs had been stranded
+there by the playful tides. They stood there now towering up in a
+thousand different forms, hundreds of feet above one's head, drawing
+all the light of the sunbeams into their glittering recesses, turning
+them there into violet, purple, and crimson hues, mauve, saffron, and
+emerald, blood-red and topaz, and then throwing them out in a million
+lance-like rays of colour, dazzling and blinding the vision. Like the
+most wonderful rainbows turned into solid masses they stood there, or
+like the jewels, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds broken from some
+giant's crown and scattered recklessly along the strand.
+
+I went up to them and walked beneath an ice arch that glowed rose
+without as the sun touched it and deepest violet within. Then on, into
+a cave beyond where the last chamber was coldest white but the outer
+rim seemed hung with blood-red fire and the middle wall glowed deepest
+emerald. On, on from one to another, each like a perfect dream of
+exquisite colour: sunrise and sunset, and all the hues of earth that
+we ever see were blended together in those glorious bergs.
+
+What a phantasmagoria of colour, what a wonderful vision! Wrapped up
+in the delight of it, I passed on through some and round others,
+pursuing my way up the beach, and ascended slowly the rocks, the huge
+morain at the side of the glacier, while impressively from the inlet
+came unvaryingly the thunder of the five-minute guns, hastening my
+steps, dogging them, as it were, with warning of the passing time.
+
+After a heavy climb taken too quickly, when I put my foot first on the
+clear blue-green surface of the glacier, its immensity, its grandeur
+came home to me. The idea of the huge size of it seems to take the
+human mind in a curious grip and appal it. Three hundred and fifty
+square miles of ice stretched round me, white, unbroken, except here
+and there where gigantic fissures and ravines opened in its surface;
+ravines where deep blue-green colour glowed in the sides, as if it
+were the blue-green blood of the glacier. A tiny wind from the north,
+keen as a knife blade, blew in my face as I stood there, out of the
+calm blue sky, and seemed to whisper to me of the terrifying nights of
+storm, of the deadly wind before which all life goes down like a
+straw, that raged here in the winter. On every side, as far as the
+eyes could reach, wide white plains of undulating ice and snow, broken
+here and there by patches of barren rock, that seemed now by some
+optical delusion, against the glaring white, to be of the brightest
+mauve and violet tints. Only that; ice and snow and rock for mile upon
+mile, until the tale of three hundred and fifty is told. No track or
+trace of bird, no sweet companionship of little furred, four-footed
+things, no blade of grass or smallest plant or flower, no sound but
+the roar of the riven ice, the groans of the dying glacier.
+
+I walked on slowly, looking inland towards the white fields
+stretching away endlessly into the distance till the blue of the sky
+seems to come down and mingle with the blue shadows in the snow.
+Beneath my feet glimmered sometimes the green glass-like surface of
+smooth ice, at others the thin crisp covering of drifted snow crackled
+at every step. Sometimes the crevasses were so narrow one could easily
+walk over them, others yawned widely, many yards across, necessitating
+a long detour to pass round them.
+
+Looking back from the side of one of them as I walked up it to find
+the narrowest part, I saw the objectionable black dots had swarmed up
+on to the edge of the glacier and through the thin, glittering air
+their voices and laughter at intervals came faintly to me. I sprang
+over the crevasse and walked on quickly to a point where the fissures
+grew thick about my feet and the green-blue blood of the glacier
+glowed in them on every side.
+
+I was looking now down the inlet and was near enough to the face of
+the glacier to hear, though dulled by distance, the crash of the
+falling bergs into the foaming water beneath. I could not approach
+nearer for crevasses hemmed me in; the ice showed itself clear of snow
+and was so slippery I could hardly stand. One false step now, one
+small slip and I should disappear down one of these green rents,
+swallowed up in between those gleaming crystal sides to remain one
+with the glacier for all time. My idea had been to approach the face
+of the glacier from the top, but I found this to be as impossible, by
+reason of the crevasses, as it had been to approach it from the sea on
+account of the falling bergs.
+
+Sacred, inaccessible, guarded above and below, the great gleaming wall
+stood there through the centuries, defying the puny curiosity, the
+feeble efforts of man to even gaze upon it and marvel over it, except
+from a long distance. I would have given all I had to have been able
+to advance to the very edge and, kneeling there, look over it down
+those majestic palisades of white flushed through with green, throwing
+back to the sun, their destroyer and conqueror, a thousand flashing
+rays as if in defiance of the slow death being dealt out to them, like
+one who dies brandishing to the last his sword in the face of his
+enemy. I longed to look over, down the glimmering wall, to the
+swelling rush of the green waters as they leapt up rejoicing to
+receive the colossal diamond-like berg as it crashed down to them, to
+see them seethe over it and fling their spray high up in the sunshine
+in mocking revelry; but it was impossible. The fissures in the ice
+multiplied themselves as one neared the edge and now were spread round
+my feet in a perfect network, like the meshes of a snare. It was
+impossible to go forward, and I was unwilling to go back. I stood
+motionless on a little tongue of polished ice between two blue-green
+chasms, so deep that they seemed riven down to the very heart of the
+glacier; stood there, drinking in the keen gold air and the beauty of
+the blue arch above, of the boundless spaces of glittering white round
+me, of the narrow green inlet so far below from which echoed the
+reverberating roar of the falling ice.
+
+I was debating with myself, should I stay here alone for a time,
+letting the steamer go, after having stored some provisions for me on
+the shore, and call again for me a few weeks later, in any case before
+the short summer of these northern latitudes was over, and winter
+closed the inlet?
+
+To stay here alone, the one single human being, in a thousand miles of
+space, and not only the one human being, but the one _life_, with no
+companionship of animal, bird, or insect, that would be an experience
+of solitude indeed!
+
+The idea attracted me; all day and all night to hear nothing but that
+thunderous roar, and see nothing but the shining sea, the gleaming
+ice-fields, and the glittering bergs, to be alone with Nature, to see
+her, as it were, intimately in her awful beauty, with breast and brow
+unveiled--and, perhaps, have death as one's reward!
+
+There was fascination in the thought.
+
+What ideas would come to one as one watched the little steamer, the
+only link that held one still bound to the world of men, weigh anchor
+and steam slowly down the green inlet, departing and leaving one
+behind it, as one watched it growing smaller, dwindling ever, till it
+was a mere speck, and then saw it vanish, leaving the green riband of
+water unbroken save for the passing bergs? How one would realise
+solitude when the boat had absolutely disappeared, and how that
+solitude would thrill through and through one's blood as the long
+light night rolled by and dawn and day succeeded with their unvarying
+march of silent glittering hours!
+
+And if death came on the wings of a storm such as rises suddenly in
+these regions and piled high the snow over the camp, freezing the
+inmate, or if it came by slow starvation, the steamer having been lost
+on that dangerous rocky coast and none other having come in time, how
+would death seem to one here, already so far removed from men and all
+desire and lust of the world, here, where already all earthly things
+had almost ceased to be and one's spirit had merged into the Infinite?
+
+Death would seem to one in different guise from when he comes to us in
+the midst of the delights of the world, with the baubles of life
+around us, or in the stress of the battle-field in the moment of
+victory, surrounded by our comrades.
+
+Death here would come but as the crown, the climax to the solitude,
+the detachment, the isolation, would seem but as the laying down the
+head on the breast of Nature, becoming one with her immensity, her
+grandeur.
+
+For some minutes I was keenly tempted to stay, the idea held my mind
+and fascinated it, but with the vision of death came the recoil from
+it born from the remembrance of my art. The same recoil that had saved
+me many times before, for youth is usually greatly inclined to
+suicide, either directly or indirectly in the dangers it courts. But
+in an artist this is strangely balanced by his love for his work. When
+he has ceased to wish for life or heed it for himself he still feels
+instinctive revolt against extinguishing that diviner spark than life
+itself, his genius, lent him from the celestial fire.
+
+The thought of my work dispelled the enchanted dream into which I had
+fallen. Instinctively I turned and very slowly began to retrace my
+steps amongst the yawning pitfalls. As I did so I heard a hoarse hoot
+from the steamer lying below, to tell me it was about to leave,
+another and another resounded dully from it, warning me to hasten my
+return.
+
+I made my way back to the shore where the boat and the impatient
+sailors awaited me. I took my seat in it, turning my eyes to the
+glistening, glimmering white palisade rising over the sapphire sea.
+
+When we had reached the steamer and its head was turned round I stood
+at the stern and watched that palisade for long, as it receded and
+receded. At last the blue distance swallowed it up. I could see no
+more than a silvery line dividing the blues of meeting sea and sky.
+Then I went down to my cabin and locked the door and lay down on my
+berth in the quiet, trying to live over again that one hour of close
+contact with the beauty of the North.
+
+After dinner that night I wrote a long letter to my cousin Viola about
+the beauty of the Muir. She would understand, I knew. What I thought
+she would feel, for our brains were cast in the same mould. The letter
+finished, it was still too early to go to bed; so I picked up a
+curious book called "Life's Shop Window" which I had been reading the
+previous night, and read this passage which had struck me before, over
+again:
+
+"So, as we look into our future, we see ourselves beloved and wealthy;
+victorious, famous, and free to wander through the sweetest paths of
+the world, passing through a thousand scenes, sometimes loving,
+sometimes warring, tasting and drinking of everything sweet and
+stimulating, knowing all things, enjoying all in turn; but this is the
+life of a God, not a man. And it is perhaps the God in us which so
+savagely demands the life of a God."
+
+"But it is not granted to us."
+
+Yet this was the life I was trying to lead, and to some extent I
+succeeded. Change, change, it is the life of life, perhaps especially
+to the artist.
+
+And I was an artist now, thanks to the decision of the Royal Academy
+last year to accept the worst picture I had submitted to them for four
+years. Ever since my fingers could clasp round anything at all they
+had loved to hold a brush; for years in my teens I had studied
+painting under the best teachers of technique in Italy. For two or
+three years I had done really good work, with the divine afflatus
+thrilling through every vein. And last year I had painted rather a
+commonplace picture and it had been hung on the line in the Academy,
+and so my friends all said I really was an artist now, and I modestly
+accepted the style and title, with outward diffidence.
+
+How little any of them guessed, as they congratulated me, of the wild
+rapture of feeling, of intense gratitude with which I had listened to
+the Divine whisper that had come to my ears as a boy of seventeen
+sitting in a small bare bedroom, on the floor with the sheet of paper
+before me on which I had drawn a woman's head. As I looked at it, I
+knew suddenly my power, and the Voice that is above all others said
+within me: "_I_ have made you an artist. None can undo or dispute MY
+work."
+
+From that moment I cared for neither praise nor blame. The opinion of
+men affected me not at all. My gift was mine, and I knew it. I held it
+straight from the Divine hands. I had the Divine promise with me for
+as long as I should live on this earth.
+
+And I was filled with a boundless delight in life and my own powers.
+
+When I showed my original pictures all painted under inspiration to my
+father, he carefully put on his pince-nez and studied them very
+closely. After that he said he must reserve his judgment. When they
+went to the Academy and were promptly refused, he drew a long face and
+said I had better have gone into the Indian Civil Service as he
+wished. Subsequently, when I had sold them all, and not one for less
+than a thousand guineas, he began to enter upon a placid state of
+contentment with me which induced him to say to other captious
+relations--"Let the boy alone, he will be an artist some day." At
+which I used to laugh inwardly and go away to my studio to listen to
+the Divine voice dictating fresh pictures to me. For five years in
+Italy I had studied closely and worked unremittingly, keeping myself
+for my art alone and existing only in it. My teachers had called me
+industrious. Another phrase which always must make an artist laugh
+when applied to his art.
+
+To those who know the wild pleasure, the almost mad joy of exercising
+a really natural gift, it sounds as funny as to talk of a drunkard
+industriously getting drunk.
+
+However, this by the way. The world is the world, and artists are
+artists; the artist may understand the world, but the world can never
+understand the artist.
+
+I was happy, life passed like a golden dream till I was twenty-two,
+and my father was satisfied that I was an "industrious" student.
+
+From twenty-two till now, when I was twenty-eight, life had opened out
+into fuller colour still. My art remained the life of the soul, of all
+that was best in me, but the brain and the senses had come forward,
+demanding their share of recognition, too, and out of the many
+coloured strands of which we can weave our web of life, I had chosen
+that which gleams the next brightest to art, the strand of passion,
+and woven much with that.
+
+I had travelled, passing from country to country, city to city,
+finding love and inspiration everywhere, for the world is full of both
+for those who desire and look for them, and now I had come on this
+coasting trip along the shores of Alaska in the same spirit, looking
+for pictures in the golden atmosphere, for joy in the golden days and
+nights.
+
+My sketch-book was full of ideas and jottings, and I looked forward
+much to the landing at Sitka where I hoped to find new and good
+material. The hopeless ugliness of the Alaskan natives had so far
+appalled me. An artist chiefly of the face and figure, as I was, could
+not hope to find a model amongst them. As our steamer had come up the
+coast I had looked in vain for even a decent-sized woman or child
+amongst them. They seem a race without a single beauty, possessing
+neither stature, nor colour, nor length of hair, nor even plump
+shapeliness. Undersized, leather-skinned, small-eyed, thin, and
+wizened, they never seem to be young. They seem to start middle-aged
+and go on growing older.
+
+No, I had really had no luck at present on my Alaskan tour, but I was
+naturally sanguine and hoped still something from Sitka.
+
+Most capitals give you something if you visit them, and Sitka was the
+capital of Alaska.
+
+As I lay in my berth that night, made wakeful by the bright light, I
+was thinking over past incidents in my life and all the Minnies and
+Marys that had been connected with them. They seemed all to have been
+Mary or Minnie with Marias in Italy and France. I fell asleep at last,
+hoping whatever Fate had in store for me at Sitka, it wouldn't be a
+Mary or a Minnie, but some new name embodying a new idea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE TEA-SHOP
+
+
+When we landed at Sitka I went ashore with a fellow passenger. He was
+a clever man, and had made trips up there already for the sake of
+taking photographs of the people and the scenery; he knew Sitka well
+and came up to me just before we arrived there with the remark:
+
+"If you come with me I'll take you to have tea with the prettiest girl
+you've ever seen."
+
+This certainly seemed an invitation to accept, and I did so on the
+spot.
+
+"She really is," he continued, observing my sceptically raised
+eyebrows, "wonderfully pretty. She keeps a tea-shop and she is
+Chinese." With that he bolted into his own cabin, which was next mine,
+and as I heard him laughing, I concluded he was joking and thought no
+more about it. However, as the ship glided up over flat sheets of
+golden water to the landing-stage, he joined me again, and together we
+stood looking up the principal street of Sitka which runs down to meet
+the little quay.
+
+It was just four in the afternoon, and everything was vivid living
+gold, as the floods of yellow sunshine filled all the shining air. The
+green copper dome of the church alone stood out a soft spot of
+delicate colour in the dazzling burnished haze.
+
+At the sides of the street sat and crouched the small squat figures of
+the Alaskan Indians, each with a mat before it on which the owner had
+set out his little store of wares--bottles of various-coloured sands,
+reindeer slippers beautifully embroidered in blue beads, carved walrus
+teeth.
+
+We stepped on the shore and the Indians looked up at us with quaint
+brown questioning eyes, like their own seals.
+
+They did not ask you to buy, but watched you silently.
+
+"Come along," said my friend, "we'll go up and get tea before there's
+a crowd."
+
+After about five minutes' walk, while I was gazing about interested in
+this quaint little capital, my companion suddenly exclaimed:
+
+"In here," and turned through an opening at the corner of a square
+enclosure on our right hand. I followed, and saw we had entered a
+little square court or compound, similar to those with which the
+poorer classes in any Eastern community surround their huts.
+
+The floor was dried and hardened mud, the walls about seven feet high,
+and numerous small tables laid for tea stood round them.
+
+My companion did not pause here, however, but went straight through in
+at the low house door, and we found ourselves in a very small, dark
+passage, hung with red and with red cloths dangling from the ceiling,
+that swept our heads as we came in.
+
+It seemed quite dark inside, coming from the fierce gold light of the
+streets, but there was a dim little lamp in Eastern glass of many
+colours swinging somewhere at the farther end, and we found our way
+down to a low door in the side of the passage. This brought us into a
+small square room which gave the impression of being sunk below the
+level of the street. There were diminutive windows in the outer wall,
+but they were close to the low ceiling and though the glorious light
+from without tried hard to come in, it was successfully obstructed by
+little rush blinds of red and green. The rushes were placed vertically
+side by side and fastened together with string and painted in bright
+tints. The breeze from the sea came through them and sang a low song
+of its own. The walls were hung with red stuff curtains, over which
+ramped wonderful Chinese dragons in green; the floor was spread with
+something soft, on which the feet made no sound; in the corners of the
+room stood some little tables.
+
+To the farthest of these, under the rush-covered windows, we made our
+way and sat down on some very ordinary American chairs, a hideous note
+in the quaint surrounding, introduced as a concession, no doubt, to
+Western taste.
+
+"I rather like this, Morley," I said as I took my seat and looked
+round.
+
+"Thought you would," he returned, and pressed his hand on a tiny
+bronze figure standing on the table. At the touch of his finger the
+head of the figure disappeared between its shoulders, and then sprung
+up again, producing a harsh clanging sound of a gong.
+
+Hardly a moment later the red curtains that hung over the doorway
+parted, and a figure came into the room.
+
+Such a sweet figure, the very spirit of poetic girlhood seemed
+incarnate before us.
+
+In appearance she was a Chinese maiden of seventeen or eighteen years;
+seventeen or eighteen according to our standard of looks, doubtless
+she was in reality younger.
+
+The face was wonderfully beautiful, a very rounded oval and of the
+most perfect creamy tint, the nose, straight and fine, was rather
+long, the upper lip short, and the mouth very small, soft, and
+full-lipped. The eyes inclined a little to the Chinese shape, but were
+large, wide, and well-opened and brimming to the lids with
+extraordinary light and fire; delicately narrow black eyebrows arched
+above on the low satiny forehead, from which was brushed upwards a
+mass of shining black hair piled on the top of the small head and
+apparently secured there by two weighty gold pins thrust through from
+side to side.
+
+The last touch of beauty, if any were needed, was added by the
+earrings of turquoise-blue stone that swung against the ivory-tinted
+softness of the full young throat.
+
+Those blue stones against the creamy neck! For years afterwards how I
+could see them again in the darkness that lies behind closed lids! How
+often I was back in the crimson darkness of the tiny chamber with the
+sea song of the Alaskan waves coming through the painted rushes above
+my head!
+
+She was very simply dressed, yet so fitly to her own beauty.
+
+A straight pale blue jacket covered her shoulders and opened on the
+breast over a white muslin vest. Her skirts hung like the full
+trousers of Persian women, and were a deep yellow in colour. Her feet
+were bare, and shone white on the red floor.
+
+"How do you do, Suzee?" said Morley.
+
+"How do you do, Mister Morlee," returned the girl lightly, smiling and
+showing pretty little teeth as she did so.
+
+"You two gentlemen want some tea? Very good. I make it."
+
+She glided to the curtains and disappeared as rapidly and noiselessly
+as she had entered.
+
+I turned to Morley with enthusiasm.
+
+"She's lovely, perfect."
+
+"Isn't she just? I knew you'd say so. But she's married, old man, so
+don't you think you can go playing any tricks with her."
+
+"Married?" I gasped incredulously, "that child? Impossible! You're
+joking."
+
+"I'm not, 'pon my honour. She has a great roaring brute of a baby,
+too."
+
+"How horrible!" I exclaimed. "Yes, horrible. You've spoiled it all. It
+seems a sacrilege."
+
+"Fiddlesticks," returned my practical friend. "That's the sort that
+does these things, isn't it? Would you expect her to turn into an old
+maid?"
+
+"No, but so young!" I faltered. In reality it was a shock to me. To
+have such an exquisite sight float before one for a moment, and then
+to be roughly dragged down to earth from the exaltation it had caused,
+hurt and bruised me.
+
+The next moment she was back again, bearing a tray in her hands which
+she set on our table, and deftly arranged the steaming teapot and tiny
+cups before us.
+
+As she bent near us over the little table a strange sensation of
+delight came over me, a faint scent of roses reached me from the
+little buds behind her ear. The blue stones in the long gold earrings
+swung against her neck of cream as she set out the tea things.
+
+"How is your boy, Suzee?" asked Morley with a tone of mischief in his
+voice.
+
+"He is very well, thank you, Mister Morlee."
+
+"I should like to see him. Will you bring him in?" he continued,
+commencing to pour out the tea.
+
+"Yes; he is asleep now, but I will wake him up," she returned
+nonchalantly, and, in spite of a protestation from me, she went out to
+do so.
+
+After a minute we heard loud screams from across the passage and
+presently Suzee reappeared dragging (I can use no other phrase) in her
+arms an enormous baby. Its face was red, and it was roaring lustily.
+The girl-mother did not seem disturbed in the least by its cries, but
+staggered slowly over to us, clasping the child awkwardly round the
+waist and holding it flat against her own body.
+
+It seemed very large, out of all proportion to the small and
+exquisitely dainty mother. She was short and small, and the child
+really, as I looked at it, seemed to be quite half the length of her
+own body.
+
+"What a big boy he is," remarked Morley.
+
+"Yes, isn't he?" said the mother proudly.
+
+The baby roared its loudest, tears streamed down its scarlet face, and
+it dug its clenched knuckles furiously into its eyes.
+
+"Surely it's in pain," I suggested.
+
+"Oh, he always cries when he is woken up," returned the mother
+tranquilly. She did not seem to take the least notice of the child's
+bellowing. She might have been deaf for all the effect it had upon
+her. She stood there placidly holding it, though it seemed very heavy
+for her, while the child screamed itself purple. She began a
+conversation with Morley just precisely as if the child were
+non-existent.
+
+I never saw such a picture, and it struck me suddenly I should like to
+paint it, just as it was there, and call the thing "Maternity."
+
+But no. What would be the good? No one, certainly not the British
+public, would ever believe its truth.
+
+They would think it a joke, and a grotesque one at that. "Beauty and
+the Beast" would do for a name, I mused, or "Fact and Fancy."
+
+Nothing could be more delicately soul-absorbingly beautiful than the
+mother; nothing so brutally hideous as the child.
+
+Suzee had sat down on the floor now, and the baby, still roaring, had
+rolled on to its face on the ground beside her. Still she took not the
+smallest notice of it; she laid one shapely hand on the small of its
+back, as if to make sure it was there, and continued her conversation
+tranquilly with Morley. How she could hear what he said I could not
+tell. I could hear nothing but the appalling row the child made.
+
+"Do take it away," I said after a few moments more, in an interval of
+yells, during which the baby rolled, apparently in the last stages of
+suffocation, on the floor. "I can't stand that noise."
+
+"Ah!" said Suzee meditatively, lifting her glorious almond eyes to
+mine, "you do not like my boy-baby?"
+
+"I do not like the noise he makes," I said evasively, "and I don't
+think he can be well, either."
+
+"Oh yes, he is quite well," she returned composedly; "but I will take
+him away."
+
+So saying, she began to haul at the loose things about the child's
+waist, as a tired gardener hauls at a sack of potatoes prior to
+lifting it up.
+
+I thought really she would get the child into her arms head downwards,
+so carelessly did she seem to manage it, and as she rose and carried
+it to the door it seemed as if the awkward weight of it must strain
+her own slight body.
+
+When the curtain closed behind her and the screams got faint in the
+distance as the unhappy child was hauled to a back room, I drew a
+breath of relief and began to drink my tea, which really hitherto I
+had been too nervous to do. Morley chuckled and remarked:
+
+"Good for you to be disillusioned."
+
+"I'm not in the least, with _her_. She is a divine piece of physical
+beauty. I wish I could get her on my canvas."
+
+"You won't be able to; that old curmudgeon of a husband of hers will
+see to that."
+
+"I should think he has the devil of a temper, judging by his
+offspring," I answered. "She looks sweet enough."
+
+Morley nodded, and we finished our tea in silence. Suzee came back
+presently with cigarettes for us and sat down on the floor herself,
+rolling one up between supple fingers. She had an air of extraordinary
+unruffled placidity. The dragging about of the child had not disturbed
+her dress nor heated her face. In cool, tranquil, placid beauty she
+sat and rolled cigarettes while the child's cries dimly echoed in the
+distance.
+
+"Where's the boss, Suzee?" questioned Morley presently.
+
+"He has gone down to Fort Wrangle for two days," she returned, and my
+spirits leapt up at her words. Her husband away for two days! Perhaps
+there was a chance for a picture....
+
+My eyes swept over her seated on the floor in front of us. What
+exquisite supple lines! What sweet little dainty curves showed beneath
+the blue silk jacket and sleeve! What a glory of light and passionate
+expression in the liquid dark eyes when she raised them to us!
+
+After a few minutes Morley got up, and I saw him laying down on the
+table the money for our tea. I added my share, and Morley remarked,
+
+"We'd better go and walk about before dinner, hadn't we? You'd like a
+look round?"
+
+I was gazing at Suzee.
+
+"Do you have any time to yourself?" I asked her. "Later in the evening
+perhaps when you could come for a walk with me."
+
+Suzee looked up. There was surprise in those wonderful eyes, but I
+thought I saw pleasure too.
+
+"At six," she said. "I close the restaurant for a short time, but I
+don't walk, I smoke and go to sleep. But I will come with you if it is
+not too far," she added as an after-thought.
+
+Morley gave a whistle, indicative of surprise and disapproval, but I
+answered composedly.
+
+"Very well, I shall come here at six; so don't be asleep and fail to
+let me in!"
+
+Suzee laughed and shook her head, and we picked up our hats and went
+out of the little room into the passage. In the outer court, as we
+passed through, we saw most of the tables occupied, and an elderly
+woman serving.
+
+"We had the best of it," I remarked.
+
+"Yes, rather. But you are going ahead with that girl. Do be careful or
+you'll have the old terror of a husband down on you."
+
+"You introduced me," I returned laughing. "You have all the
+responsibility."
+
+"You know dinner's at six on this unearthly boat. Aren't you going to
+get any dinner to-night?"
+
+"I'm not very particular about it. I shall pick up something. I
+thought six when all the men would be back on board would be her free
+time."
+
+"But what are you going to do with her?"
+
+"Get her to pose for me, if she will."
+
+"Anything else?"
+
+"One never knows in life," I answered smiling.
+
+Morley regarded me thoughtfully.
+
+"You artists do manage to have a good time."
+
+"You could have just the same if you chose," I said.
+
+"No, I don't think I could somehow," he answered slowly. "I am not so
+devilishly good-looking as you are, for one thing."
+
+"Oh, I don't know," I replied; "and does that make much difference
+with women, do you think? Isn't it rather a passionate responsiveness,
+a go-aheadness, that they like?"
+
+"Yes, I think it is, but then that's it, you've got that. I don't
+think I have. I don't seem to want the things, to see anything in
+them, as you do."
+
+I laughed outright. We were walking slowly down one of the gold,
+light-filled streets towards the church now, and everything about us
+seemed vibrating in the dazzling heat.
+
+"If you don't want them I should think it's all right." I said.
+
+"No, it isn't," returned my companion gravely. "You want a thing very
+much and you get it, and have no end of fun. I don't want it and don't
+get it, and don't have the fun. So it makes life very dull."
+
+"Well, I _am_ very jolly," I admitted contentedly. "I think really,
+artists--people with the artist's brain--do enjoy everything
+tremendously. They have such a much wider field of desires, as you
+say; and fewer limitations. They 'weave the web Desire,' as Swinburne
+says, 'to snare the bird Delight.'"
+
+"They get into a mess sometimes," said Morley sulkily; "as you will
+with that girl if you don't look out. Here we are at the church.
+There's a very fine picture inside; you'd like to see it, I expect."
+
+We turned into the church and rested on the chairs for a few minutes,
+enjoying the cool dark interior.
+
+At six o'clock exactly I was in the little mud-yard again, before the
+tea-shop; having sent Morley off to his dinner on board. I felt
+elated: all my pulses were beating merrily. I was keenly alive. Morley
+was right in what he said. An artist is Nature's pet, and she has
+mixed all his blood with joy. Natural, instinctive joy, swamped
+occasionally by melancholy, but always there surging up anew. Joy in
+himself--joy in his powers--joy in life.
+
+I knocked as arranged, and Suzee herself let me in. She had been
+burning spice, apparently, before one of the idols that stood in each
+corner of the tea-shop; for the whole place smelt of it.
+
+"What have you been doing?" I said. "Holding service here?"
+
+"Only burning spice-spills to chase away the evil spirits," replied
+Suzee.
+
+"Are there any here?" I inquired.
+
+"They always come in with the white foreign devils," she returned with
+engaging frankness.
+
+I laughed.
+
+"Well, Suzee, you are unkind," I expostulated. "Is that how you think
+of me?"
+
+She looked up with a calm smile.
+
+"The devil is always welcomed by a woman," she answered sweetly--her
+eyes were black lakes with fire moving in their depths--"that is one
+of our proverbs. It is quite true."
+
+The lips curled and the creamy satin of the cheeks dimpled and the
+blue earrings shook against her neck.
+
+"What lovely earrings," I said, smiling down upon her, and put up my
+hand gently to touch one. She did not draw back nor seem to resent my
+action.
+
+"You think them pretty? I have others upstairs. Will you come up and
+see my jewellery?"
+
+I assented with the greatest willingness, and we went on down the
+passage and then up the narrow, steep flight of stairs at the end.
+
+"Don't wake up your child," I said in sudden horror, as we reached the
+small square landing above of slender rickety uncovered boards.
+
+"Oh, he never wakes till one pulls him up," she answered tranquilly,
+and led the way into a little chamber. Did she sleep here? I wondered.
+There was no bed, but a loose heap of red rugs in one corner. The
+windows were mere narrow horizontal slits close to the ceiling. In the
+centre, blocking up all the space, stood a high narrow chest. It
+looked very old, of blackened wood and antique shape. I had never seen
+such a thing. On the top of this, which nearly came to her chin, she
+eagerly spread out heaps of little paper parcels she took from one of
+the drawers.
+
+"Have you any earrings just like those you are wearing?" I asked her.
+If she had, I would buy them if I could for my cousin Viola, I
+thought. Viola was excessively fair, and those blue stones would be
+enchanting against her blonde hair.
+
+"You want to buy them?" she said quickly. "I have a pair here just
+like, only green. Buy those."
+
+"No," I said. "It is the colour I like. Do you want to sell these blue
+ones you are wearing?"
+
+"No," she said quickly; "not these," and ran to a small mirror on the
+wall and looked in hastily, fearfully, as if she thought that by
+wishing for them I could charm them away from her out of her very
+ears.
+
+That she appreciated so well the effect of the colour harmony between
+the blue stones and her own cream-hued skin, and the value of it in
+setting off her beauty, pleased me. It seemed to augur well for her
+artistic sense.
+
+"May I sit down here?" I asked her, going to the pile of scarlet rugs
+and cushions in the corner.
+
+"Oh yes, Meester Treevor, sit down," and she came hastily forward to
+rearrange them for me with Oriental politeness. I sat down, drawing up
+my legs as I best could, and pointed to a place beside me.
+
+"Come and sit down, Suzee," I said; "I have something to show you
+now."
+
+She came and sat beside me, but not very close, with her knees raised
+and her smooth lissom little hands clasped round them. Her almond eyes
+grew almost round with curiosity. I had brought with me a small
+portfolio of some of my sketches with the object of introducing the
+subject of her posing for me. I opened it and drew out the topmost
+sketch. It was the figure of a young Italian girl lying on a green
+bank beneath some vines. She was not wholly undraped, but most of her
+attire was on the bank beside her, and the rest was of a transparent
+gauzy nature suited to the heat suggested in the sunlit picture.
+
+The moment Suzee's eyes fell upon it she gave a shriek of dismay and
+covered her face with her hands. Over any portion I could still see
+of it spread the Eastern's equivalent of a blush: a sort of dull heavy
+red that seems to thicken the tissues.
+
+"What is the matter?" I asked, surveying her in surprise. There was
+nothing in the picture which would cause the least embarrassment to
+any English girl.
+
+"Oh, Treevor, it is dreadful to look at things like that," she
+exclaimed, moving her fingers before her face and looking at me with
+one eye through them. Then she made some rapid passes over her head,
+as if to ward off the evil spirits I had conjured up.
+
+I laughed.
+
+"You may think so, Suzee," I said; "but in our country, and many
+others, these 'things,' as you call them, are not only very much
+looked at, but also admired, and bought and sold for great sums. What
+do you see so very bad in it?"
+
+Suzee ventured to peer through her fingers with both eyes at the
+fearful object.
+
+"Dreadful!" she exclaimed again, quickly shutting her fingers. "It is
+a very bad woman, is it not?"
+
+"No," I said, somewhat nettled; "certainly not. This was quite a
+respectable girl. I have quantities of these portraits and sketches.
+Look here," and I opened the portfolio and spread out several pictures
+on the rug.
+
+Suzee drew herself together, tightly pursed up her and looked down at
+them with alarm,--as if I had let loose a number of snakes.
+
+"They are very, very wicked things," she said, primly as a dissenting
+minister's wife; and lowered her eyelids till the lashes lay like
+black silk on the cheeks.
+
+I gathered the offending sketches together and pushed them back under
+cover.
+
+"I wanted you to pose for me," I said, "that I might have your
+picture, too; but I expect you won't do so for me?"
+
+"I! I!" said Suzee, with virtuous indignation, "be put on paper like
+that? I would die first." Her face had thickened all over as the blood
+went into it. Her eyes looked stormy, alluring.
+
+I leant towards her suddenly as we sat side by side, put my arms round
+her waist, drew her to me, and pressed my lips on the ridiculous
+little screwed-up mouth, with a sudden access of passion that left her
+breathless.
+
+"You are a horrid little humbug, and goose, and prude," I said,
+laughing, as I released her. "What do you think of letting me kiss you
+like that, then? Is that wrong?"
+
+Suzee sighed heavily, swaying her pliable body only a very little way
+from me.
+
+"It may be--a little" she admitted; "but it's not like the pictures."
+
+"Oh! It's not so bad--not so wicked?" I asked mockingly.
+
+"Oh no, not nearly," she returned decisively.
+
+"Well," I answered, "many people would think it much worse. Those
+girls who have let me draw them would not let me kiss them--some of
+them," I added. "So, you see, it's a matter of opinion and idea. Now,
+will you say why the picture is so much worse than a kiss?"
+
+"A kiss," murmured Suzee, "is just between two people. It is done, and
+no one knows. It is gone." She spread out her hands and waved them in
+the air with an expressive gesture. "Those things remain a monument of
+shame for ever and ever."
+
+I laughed. I was beginning to see there was not much chance of a
+picture, but other prospects seemed fair. In life one must always take
+exactly what it offers, and neither refuse its goods nor ask for more,
+either in addition or exchange. Sitka would give me something, but
+perhaps not a picture as I had hoped.
+
+I looked at her in silence for some seconds, musing on her curious
+beauty.
+
+"I shall call you 'Sitkar-i-buccheesh,'" I said after a minute.
+
+Suzee looked frightened and made a rapid pass over her head.
+
+"What is that?" she asked. "It sounds a devil's name."
+
+"It only means the gift of Sitka," I answered. "This city has given
+you to me, has it not? or it will," I added in a lower tone.
+
+I put my arm round her again, and she leant towards me as a flower
+swayed by the breeze, her head drooped and rested against my shoulder.
+
+"If it were the name of a devil," I said laughing, "it would suit you.
+I believe you are an awful little devil."
+
+"All women are devils," returned Suzee placidly.
+
+I did not answer, but Viola's face swam suddenly before my vision--a
+face all white and gold and rose and with eyes of celestial blue.
+
+"What would your husband say to all this?" I asked jestingly.
+
+"He will never know. I tell him quite different. He believes
+everything I say."
+
+Involuntarily I felt a little chill of disgust pass through me. Deceit
+of any kind specially repels me, and deceit towards some one trusting,
+confident, is the worst of all.
+
+Perhaps she read my thoughts instinctively, for she said next, in a
+pleading note, to enlist my sympathies:
+
+"He is very, very cruel, he beats me all the time."
+
+I looked down at her as she lay in the cradle of my arm, a little
+sceptical.
+
+From what I knew of the Chinese character it did not seem at all
+likely that Hop Lee did beat his wife; moreover, the delicate,
+fragile, untouched beauty of the girl did not allow one to imagine she
+had suffered, or could suffer much violence.
+
+Again she seemed to feel my doubt of her, for she pushed up suddenly
+her sleeve with some trouble from one velvet-skinned arm and pushed it
+up before my eyes. There was a deep dull crimson mark upon it the size
+of a half-crown.
+
+"Unbeliever! Look at this bruise."
+
+I looked at it, then at her steadily.
+
+"Suzee, did your husband make that bruise?"
+
+"Yes. He pinched me so hard in a rage with me," she said a little
+sulkily.
+
+"Give me your arm," I said.
+
+She held it out reluctantly. I looked at the bruise, then I rolled the
+sleeve back a little farther, and in it found a heavy gold bangle with
+a boss on one side corresponding with the size of the mark on the
+flesh.
+
+"I think it is the gold bracelet your kind old husband gave you that
+you have pressed into the flesh," I said, "that has marked it. That is
+about what his cruelty to you amounts to." I dropped her arm
+contemptuously, and rose suddenly.
+
+She had succeeded in dispelling for the moment the charm of her
+beauty. Her prudery, her deceit, her lies made up to me a peculiarly
+obnoxious mixture.
+
+She sprang up, too, as I rose and threw herself on her knees,
+clasping her arms round mine so that I could not move.
+
+"Oh Treevor, I do love you so much. You are my real master, not he. A
+woman loves a man who conquers her, but not by buying her. But because
+he is better and stronger than she. Because he has great muscles, as
+you have, and could kill her, and because she can't deceive him,
+because he sees all her lies, as you do. Yes, Treevor, I love you now
+very much indeed. Come here again, kiss me again."
+
+But somehow her pleading did not move me. The moment when I had been
+drawn to her had gone by, swallowed up in a feeling of disgust.
+
+I stooped down and unlocked her hands and put her back among her
+cushions.
+
+"Good-bye, Suzee, for to-day," I said. "To-morrow I will come and take
+you for a walk. You must let me go now. I do not want to stay any
+longer."
+
+She looked at me in silence, but did not offer to move from where I
+had put her.
+
+I gathered up my portfolio and left the room, went down the stairs and
+through the passage and courtyard to the sun-filled street.
+
+I went on slowly, and after a time found myself close to the church
+again. I went in, for the interior interested me, and found service
+was being held. A Russian priest, wholly in white clothing, stood
+before the altar, the cross light from the aisle windows falling on
+the long twist of fair hair that lay upon his shoulders. The whole air
+was full of incense that rose in white clouds to the domed roof. I sat
+down near the door and listened while the priest intoned a Latin hymn.
+The figure of the young priest at the altar attracted me. I thought I
+should like a sketch of it; but I hesitated to take one of him in the
+church, even surreptitiously, so I fixed the picture of him as he
+stood there on my eyes as far as I could, and then, in a convenient
+pause of the service, quietly slipped outside.
+
+Near the church was a great outcrop of rock surmounted by a
+weather-beaten tree. In the shade thrown by these I got out a sheet of
+loose paper and made a sketch of the fair, long-haired priest, with
+the quaint frame building of the church, its green copper dome and
+bell tower and double gold crosses behind him.
+
+After I had been there some time I was suddenly surprised by Morley.
+
+"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "You here? Why, I thought you would be in the
+arms of the fair Suzee by this time."
+
+"So I might have been," I answered, looking up from the sketch, "but I
+got put off somehow, so I left her and went to church instead!"
+
+Morley burst out laughing.
+
+"You _are_ the funniest fellow," he exclaimed, taking his seat beside
+me on the ground and clasping his hands round his knees. "So Suzee has
+offended you, has she? Do you know, I think that's where we ordinary
+people get ahead of fellows like you. You are too sensitive. We're not
+so particular. When I'm stuck on Mary Ann it doesn't matter to me what
+she says or does. It doesn't interfere with my happiness."
+
+I went on painting in silence.
+
+"Funny those chaps look with their long hair, don't they?" he remarked
+after a moment, as I painted the light on the priest's long curl.
+
+"Very picturesque, don't you think?" I said.
+
+"No, I don't," returned the Briton stoutly. "I think it's beastly."
+
+I laughed this time, and having completed the portrait, slipped it
+into my portfolio and prepared to put away my paints.
+
+"Don't you want any dinner?" asked Morley. "You must be hungry."
+
+"Well, I hadn't thought of it," I answered. "But, now you mention it,
+perhaps I am. Do you know of any place where one can get anything?"
+
+"There's one place at the end of the town where you can have soup and
+bread," replied Morley, and we started off to find it.
+
+Later on, towards ten o'clock, when we were leaving the little, frame,
+sailors' restaurant, I looked up to the western sky and saw that
+strange colour in it of the Alaskan sunset that I have never found in
+any other sky, a bright magenta, or deep heather pink, a crude colour
+rather like an aniline dye, but brilliant and arresting in the clean,
+clear gold of the heavens.
+
+Great ribs and bars and long flat lines of it lay all across the West.
+No other cloud, no other colour appeared anywhere in the sky. It was
+painted in those two tints alone; the brightest magenta conceivable
+and living gold.
+
+Walking back slowly to the ship, I gazed at it with interest. No other
+sky that I could recall ever shows this tone of colour. Pink, scarlet,
+rose, and all the shades of blood or flame-colour are familiar in
+every sunset, but this curious tint seemed to belong to Alaska alone.
+
+I watched it glow and deepen, then fade, and softly disappear as the
+sun dipped below the horizon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+IN THE WOOD
+
+
+The next evening, after dinner, I left the ship and made my way to
+Suzee's place to take her for the promised walk.
+
+It was just seven when I stepped ashore, and light of the purest, most
+exquisite gold lay over everything. The air had that special quality
+of Alaska which I have never met anywhere else, an extreme humidity;
+it hung upon the cheek as a mist hangs, only it was clear as crystal,
+brilliant as a yellow diamond.
+
+There was no wind, not a breath ruffled the stillness nor stirred the
+motionless blue water.
+
+The exquisite chain of islands off the mainland was mirrored in the
+still, shining depths, and lifted their delicate outlines clothed with
+fir and larch, soft as half-forgotten dreams, against the transparent
+blue of the sky. Sitka was placid and restful, the streets quiet and
+empty as I walked along in the sunny silence.
+
+Suzee was at the door waiting for me. She had dressed herself
+differently, entirely in yellow. The yellow silk of the little square
+jacket contrasted well with her midnight hair, and the only dash of
+other colour in the picture she presented was the blue stone in her
+earrings.
+
+"Good evening, Treevor," she said, smiling up at me. And I bent down
+and pressed my lips to those little, soft, curved ones she put up for
+me.
+
+We started out at once. Suzee told me we were going for a long way to
+see the wood, and had the important air of a person going on a lengthy
+expedition. She had brought a Japanese sunshade with her which she put
+up, and certainly the hot light falling through the rice-paper had a
+wonderfully beautiful effect on her creamy skin and soft yellow silk
+clothing. She walked easily, only with rather short steps. As she was
+of the lower class, there had been no question of the "golden lilies"
+or distortion of the feet for her, and they were small and prettily
+shaped, bare, save for a sort of sandal, or as the Indians call them,
+"guaraches," bound under the sole.
+
+We passed up the main street and soon after turned into a narrow
+winding road that leads along the coast, Sitka being on a promontory,
+with a beautiful azure bay running inland behind it.
+
+Our path ran sometimes inland, through portions of wood, part of that
+great impenetrable primeval forest that at one time completely covered
+the whole of Sitka, sometimes quite on the edge of the water. Here
+there were rocks and boulders, and little coves of white sand and
+stretches of miniature beaches, with the lip of the bay resting on
+them.
+
+Infinitesimal waves broke on the sunny white sand with a low musical
+tinkle, across the bay one could see the delicate chain of islands
+rising with their feathery trees into the blue, warding off the
+breakers and the storms of the open sea beyond. In here, the peaceful
+water murmured to itself and repeated tales of the beginning of the
+world, of the first gold dawn that broke upon the earth, and of later
+days, when the sombre black forests came to the water's edge and none
+knew them but the great black bear, and when the seals played
+joyously, undisturbed, in the fog-banks off the islands. I was in the
+mood to appreciate deeply the beauty of the scene, and all the objects
+round seemed to speak to me of their inner meaning, but my companion
+was not at all moved by, nor interested in her surroundings. She
+helped to make the picture more strange and lovely as she sat by me on
+a rock, with her shining clothes and brilliant face under the gay
+sunshade, but mentally she jarred on me by her complete indifference
+to any influence of the scene. I almost wished I were alone here, to
+sit upon this tremendous shore and dream.
+
+"You are dull, Treevor," she exclaimed pettishly. "You really are."
+
+I had kissed her twice in the last ten minutes, but she hated my eyes
+to wander for a moment from her face to the sea. She hated the least
+reference apparently to the landscape. As long as I was talking to
+her and about her, admiring her dress or her hair, she was satisfied.
+
+"Come along," she said impatiently; "let us go on to the wood, leave
+off looking at that stupid sea."
+
+I rose reluctantly and we followed the road which turned inland again.
+The wood was a world of grey shadows. As we entered by a narrow trail
+leading from the road, the golden day outside was soon closed from us
+by the thick veils of hanging creeper and parasitical plants of all
+sorts that entwined round the gnarled and aged trees, and crossing and
+re-crossing from one to the other, netted them together.
+
+Over the creepers again had grown grey-green lichens and long, shaggy
+moss, so that strands and fringes of it fell on every side, filling
+the interstices of the gigantic web that stretched from tree to tree,
+excluding the light of the sunlit sky.
+
+Beneath, the lower branches of the trees were sad and sodden,
+overgrown with lichen, clogged with hanging wreaths of moss. A river
+ran through the wood and at times, swelled by the melting snows,
+burst, evidently, in roaring flood over its banks.
+
+Everywhere there were traces of recent floods, roots washed bare and
+places where the swirling waters had heaped up their débris of sticks
+and mud-stained leaves. All along the damp ground the lowest branches
+of the trees, weighted with tangled moss, trailed, broken and bruised
+by the fierce rush of the current. The trees themselves seemed
+centuries old, bent and gnarled and twisted into grotesque and ghostly
+forms. In the dim twilight reigning here one could fancy one stood in
+some hideous torture-chamber, surrounded by writhing and distorted
+figures. There an elbow, there a withered arm, a fist clenched in
+agony, seemed protruding from the sombre, sad-clothed trees, so
+weirdly knotted and twisted were the old cinder-hued boughs.
+
+As we neared the river we could hear it rushing by long before we
+could see it, so thick was the undergrowth that hung low over it.
+
+It seemed as if we might be approaching the black Styx through this
+melancholy wood where all seemed weeping in torn veils and
+ash-coloured garments.
+
+No touch of depression affected my companion; she seemed as insensible
+to the grey solemnity, the dim mystery of the wood, as she had been to
+the vivid glory of the sea. She slipped a little velvet hand into
+mine, and when we drew near to the hidden Styx, murmured softly:
+
+"We will find a dry place, Treevor, on the other side, and sit down
+among the trees. Then you must take me in your arms and I will be your
+own Suzee. I do not want my old husband any more."
+
+I stopped and looked down upon her. Not even the sad light could dim
+the soft brilliance of her face. It seemed to bloom out of the ashy
+shadows like an exquisite flower. Her eyes were wells of fire beneath
+their velvet blackness.
+
+"Do you love me very much?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, yes, so much," she answered with passionate emphasis. "You are so
+beautiful. Never have I seen any one so beautiful, and so tall and so
+strong. Oh, it is _pain_ to me to love you so much."
+
+And indeed she became quite white, as she drew her hand from mine and
+clasped both of hers upon her breast as if to still some agony there.
+
+My own heart beat hard. The grey wood seemed to lose its ashy tone and
+become warm and rosy round us. I bent over her and took her up wholly
+in my arms, and she laughed and threw hers around me in wild delight.
+
+"Carry me, Treevor, over the bridge and up the slope at the side. It
+is so nice to feel you carrying me."
+
+It was no difficulty to carry her, and the waves of electricity from
+her joyous little soul rushed through me till my arms and all the
+veins of my body seemed alight and burning.
+
+I ran with her, over the narrow bridge and up the slope, where, as she
+said, there was drier ground. And there, on a bed of leaves under some
+tangled branches, I fell on my knees with her still clasped to my
+breast, and covered her small satin-skinned face with kisses.
+
+"I am yours now. You must not let me go. I only want to look and look
+at your face. I wish I could tell you how I love you. Oh, Treevor, I
+can't tell you...."
+
+As I looked down, breathless with running and kisses and the fires she
+had kindled within me, I saw how her bosom heaved beneath the yellow
+jacket, how all the delicate curves of her breast seemed broken up
+with panting sighs and longing to express in words all that her body
+expressed so much better.
+
+"Darling, there is no need to tell me. I know." And I put my hand
+round her soft column of throat, feeling all its quick pulses
+throbbing hard into the palm of my hand.
+
+"Put your head down on my heart, Treevor. Lie down beside me; now let
+us think we have drunk a little opium, just a little, and we are going
+to sleep through a long night together. Hush! What is that? Did you
+hear anything?"
+
+She lifted my hand from her throat and sat up, listening.
+
+I had not heard anything. I had been too absorbed. All had vanished
+now from me, except the fervent beauty of the girl before me.
+
+The sea of desire had closed over my head, sealing the senses to
+outside things; I drew her towards me impatiently.
+
+"It is nothing," I murmured. "I heard nothing." But she sat up, gazing
+straight across a small cleared space in front of us to where the
+impenetrable thicket of undergrowth again stood forward like grey
+screens between the twisted tree trunks.
+
+"Yes, there was something; there, opposite! Look, something is
+moving!" I followed her eyes and saw a strand of loose moss quiver and
+heard a twig break in the quiet round us. We both watched the
+undergrowth across the open space intently. For a second nothing
+moved, then the boughs parted in front of us, and through the great
+lichen streamers and rugged bands of grey-green moss depending from
+them, peered an old, drawn-looking face.
+
+Suzee gave a piercing shriek of dismay, and started to her feet.
+
+"My husband!" she gasped.
+
+I sprang to my feet, and my right hand went to my hip pocket. The head
+pushed through the thicket, and a bent and aged form followed slowly.
+I drew out my revolver, but the figure of the old man straightened
+itself up and he waved his hand impatiently, as if deprecating
+violence.
+
+"Sir, I have come after my wife," he said, in a low, broken tone.
+
+I slipped the weapon back in my pocket. I had had an idea that he
+might attack Suzee, but voice and face showed he was in a different
+mood.
+
+Suzee clung to my hand on her knees, crying and trembling.
+
+"Go and sit over there," he said peremptorily to her, pointing to the
+other side of the glade, far enough from us to be out of hearing.
+
+She did not move, only clung and shivered and wept as before.
+
+I bent over her, loosening my hand.
+
+"Do as he says," I whispered; "no harm can come to you while I am
+here."
+
+Suzee let go my fingers reluctantly and crept away, sobbing, to the
+opposite edge of the thicket. The old Chinaman motioned me to sit
+down. I did so, mechanically wondering whether his calmness was a ruse
+under cover of which he would suddenly stab me. He sat down, too,
+stiffly, beside me, resting on his heels, and his hard, wrinkled hands
+supporting his withered face.
+
+"Now," he said, in a thin old voice; "look at me! I am an old man, you
+are a young one. You are strong, you are well; you are rich too, I
+think." He looked critically over me. "You have everything that I have
+not, already. Why do you come here to rob an old man of all he has in
+this world?"
+
+I felt myself colour with anger. All the blood in my body seemed to
+rush to my head and stand singing in my ears.
+
+I felt a furious impulse to knock him aside out of my way; but his age
+and weakness held me motionless.
+
+"All my youth, when I was strong and good-looking as you are now, and
+women loved me, I worked hard like a slave, and starved and saved.
+When others played I toiled, when they spent I hoarded up. What was I
+saving for? That I might buy myself _that_." He waved his hand in the
+direction of Suzee, sitting in a little crumpled heap against a
+gnarled tree opposite us.
+
+"I bought her," he went on with increasing excitement. "I bought her
+from a woman who would have let her out, night by night, to
+foreigners. I have given her a good home, she does no hard work. She
+has a child, she has fine clothes. I work still all day and every day
+that I may give money to her. She is my one joy, my treasure; don't
+take her away from me, don't do it. You have all the world before you,
+and all the women in it that are without husbands. Go to them, leave
+me my wife in peace."
+
+Tears were rolling fast down his face now, his clasped hands quivered
+with emotion.
+
+"When I was a young man I would not take any pleasure. No, pleasure
+means money, and I was saving. When I am old I will buy, I said. It
+needs money, when I am old I shall have it. I can buy then. But, ah!
+when one is old it is all dust and ashes."
+
+I looked at his thin shrunken form, poorly clad, at his face, deeply
+lined with great furrows, made there by incessant toil and constant
+pain. I felt my joy in Suzee to wither in the grey shadow of his
+grief. Some people would have thought him doubtless an immoral old
+scoundrel, and that he had no business in his old age to try to be
+happy as younger men are, to wish, to expect it. But I cannot see that
+joy is the exclusive right of any particular age. A young man or young
+woman has no more right or title to enjoy than an old man or woman;
+they have simply the right of might, which is no _right_ at all.
+
+"Well, what do you want me to say or do?" I exclaimed impatiently.
+"Take your wife back with you now, no harm has happened to her. Take
+her home with you."
+
+"Yes, I can take her body, but not her spirit," answered the old man
+sadly.
+
+His tone made me look at him keenly. Hitherto I had felt sorry for
+Suzee that she was his; now, as I heard his accent, I felt sorry for
+him that he was hers.
+
+A great capacity for suffering looked out of the aged face, such as I
+knew could never look out of hers.
+
+"If you lift your finger she would come to you! Promise me you will
+not see her again, not speak to her; that you will go. And if she
+comes to you, you will not accept her."
+
+I was silent for a moment.
+
+"My ship goes to-morrow morning," I answered; "I am not likely to see
+your wife again. I shall not seek her."
+
+"That is not enough," moaned the old man; "she will find a way. She
+will come to you. Promise me you will not take her away with you; if
+you do you will have an old man's murder on your head."
+
+I moved impatiently.
+
+"I am not going to take her away," I answered.
+
+"But promise me. If I have your promise I shall feel certain."
+
+I hesitated, and looked across at Suzee, a patch of beautiful colour
+against the grey background of bent and aged trees.
+
+What had I intended to do, I asked myself. I could not take her, in
+any case. I had not meant that. A virtuous American ship like the
+Cottage City would hardly admit a Suzee to share my cabin.
+
+Then what did my promise matter if it but reflected the fact, and if
+it satisfied him?
+
+"You are not willing to promise," he said, coming close to me and
+peering into my face; "I feel it."
+
+I thought I heard his teeth close on an unuttered oath. Still he did
+not threaten me. As I remained silent he suddenly threw himself on the
+ground in front of me, and stretched out his hands and put them on my
+feet.
+
+"Sir I implore you. Give me your word you will not take her, then I am
+satisfied. Better take my life than my wife."
+
+I lifted my eyes for a moment in a glance towards Suzee and saw her
+make a scornful gesture at the prostrate figure. The gold bracelets on
+her arm below the yellow silk sleeve shewed in the action a contrast
+to the old, worn clothing of the poorest material that her husband
+wore.
+
+I rose to my feet and raised him up.
+
+"Get up, I hate to see you kneel to me. I have said I shall not take
+your wife. As far as I am concerned, that is a promise. I have said
+it."
+
+"Thank you," he said, inclining his head, and then moved away, not
+without a certain dignity in his old form, lean and twisted though the
+work of years had made it.
+
+I dropped back into my place where I had been sitting and watched the
+two figures before me almost in a dream.
+
+He went up to the girl and spoke, apparently not unkindly, and some
+talk ensued. Then I saw him bend down and take her wrist and drag her
+to her feet.
+
+Suzee hung back as one sees a child hang back from a nurse, but she
+moved forward though unwillingly, and so at last they passed from my
+sight, through the grey trees and the weeping moss, the thin old man
+stepping doggedly forward, the pretty, gay-clothed childish little
+figure dragging back.
+
+Then all was still. The old grey wood was full of weird light, but the
+silence of the night had fallen on it. Beast and bird and insect had
+sought their lair and nest and cranny. Not a leaf moved. I felt
+entirely alone.
+
+"One never knows in life," I thought, repeating my words to Morley.
+
+I felt a keen sense of longing regret surge slowly, heavily through
+me. How exquisitely sweet and perfect her beauty was! And she had lain
+in my arms for that moment, one moment that was stamped into my brain
+in gold. I put my head into my hands and shut out the dim grey wood
+from vision and recalled that moment. It came back to me, the touch of
+her soft form, the smiling curve of the lips put up to me, the fire in
+the liquid depths of those almond eyes, the round throat delicate as
+polished ivory. The extraordinary triumph of beauty over the senses
+came before my mind suddenly, presenting the problem that always
+puzzles and eludes me.
+
+Why should certain lines and colours in pleasing the eye so
+intoxicate and inflame the brain? For it is the brain to which beauty
+appeals. Youth and health in a loved object are sufficient to capture
+the physical senses, but they do not fill the brain with that
+exaltation, that delirium of joy, that divine elation that sweeps up
+through us at the sight of beauty. Divine fire, it seems to be lighted
+first in the glance of the eyes.
+
+In an hour's time I left the wood and walked slowly shipwards. I felt
+tired and overstrained, exceedingly regretful, full of longing after
+that lovely vision that had come to me and that I had had to drive
+away.
+
+The unearthly stillness combined with the brilliant, unabated,
+unfailing light had a curious mystery about it that charmed and
+delighted me. The sea, so blue and tranquil, sparkled softly on my
+left hand, the pellucid blue of the sky stretched overhead, and all
+the air was full of the sweet sunshine we associate with day. Yet it
+was midnight. I pulled out my watch and looked at it to assure myself
+of the fact. Sitka was wrapt in silence and sleep, my own footstep
+resounded strangely in the burning empty streets.
+
+I had to pass the tea-shop on my way to the ship. One could see
+nothing of it from the street as the compound shut it off from view,
+and across the compound entrance a stout hurdle was now stretched and
+barred.
+
+I passed on with a sigh, reached the ship lying motionless against
+the quay, went down to my cabin without encountering any one, threw
+off my clothes and myself in my berth, feeling a sense of fatigue
+obliterating thought.
+
+The night before I had had no sleep, and the incessant golden glare,
+day and night alike, wearies the nerves not trained to it.
+
+Suzee and almond eyes and injured husbands floated away from me on the
+dark wings of sleep.
+
+It must have been an hour or so later that I woke suddenly with a
+sense of suffocation. Some soft, heavy thing lay across my breast. I
+started up and two arms clasped my neck and I heard Suzee's voice;
+saying in my ear:
+
+"Treevor, dear Treevor, I have found you! Now I you will take me away,
+and we will stay for ever and ever together. I am so happy."
+
+The cabin was full of the same steady yellow light as when I closed my
+eyes. Looking up I saw her sweet oval face above me.
+
+She was lying on the berth leaning over me, supported on her elbows.
+
+As I looked up she pressed her lips down on my face, kissing me on the
+eyes and mouth with passionate repetition and insistence.
+
+"Dear little girl, dear little Suzee!" I answered, putting up my arms
+and folding them round her.
+
+I was only half-awake, and for a moment the old Chinaman was
+forgotten. It was all rather like a delicious dream.
+
+"I am quite, quite happy now," she said, laying down her head on my
+chest. "Oh, so happy, Treevor; you must never let me go. I love you
+so, like this," she added, putting her two hands round my throat,
+"when I can feel your neck and when you are sleeping. You looked
+beautiful, just now, when I found you. I am sorry you woke."
+
+Clear consciousness was struggling back now with memory, but not
+before I had pressed her to me and returned those kisses. She had laid
+aside her little saffron silk coat, and her breast and arms shone
+softly through a filmy muslin covering.
+
+I sat up regarding her; very lissom and soft and lovely she looked,
+and my whole brain swam suddenly with delight.
+
+Surely I could not part with her! She was precious to me in that
+madness that comes over us at such moments.
+
+I put my arms round her and held her to my breast with all my force in
+a clasp that must have been painful to her, but she only laughed
+delightedly.
+
+Then my promise came back to me. It was impossible to break that. What
+was the good of torturing myself when I had made it impossible to take
+her. Why had she come here?
+
+"Where is your husband?" I asked mechanically wondering if any strange
+fate had removed him from between us.
+
+"Oh, I put him to sleep, he will give no trouble. I gave him opium, so
+much opium, he will sleep a long time."
+
+"You have not killed him?" I said, in a sudden horror.
+
+Her eyes were wide open and full of extraordinary fire, she seemed in
+those moments capable of anything.
+
+She put up her little hands and ran them through my hair.
+
+"Such black hair," she murmured. "Ah, how I love it! I love black
+hair. How it shines, how soft it is! I hate grey hair. It is horrid.
+No, I have not killed him. He will wake again when we have sailed and
+are far away from Sitka."
+
+These words drove from me the last veil of clinging sleep. I kept my
+arms round her and said:
+
+"But, Suzee, I can't take you with me. I promised your husband
+to-night I would not."
+
+"That's nothing," she replied lightly; "promises are nothing when one
+loves. And you love me, Treevor; you must love me, and I am coming
+with you, you can't drive me away."
+
+The ship's bells sounded overhead on deck as she spoke. The sound
+seemed a warning. I knew our ship was due to leave in the morning; I
+did not know quite when. If it left the quay with the girl on board,
+the horror of a broken promise would cling to me all my life.
+
+"I can't take you, it is impossible. You must go back and try to
+forget you have ever seen me. You must go now at once, our ship is
+leaving soon."
+
+"I know," said Suzee tranquilly; "and I shall be so happy when it
+starts."
+
+I pushed her aside and got up from the berth. The cabin window stood
+wide open. In the position the ship was it was easy to come in and out
+through it from the quay. She must have entered that way.
+
+"You must go," I said between my teeth. I was afraid of myself.
+Overhead I heard movements and clanking chains and shuffling feet. Our
+ship was leaving, and she was still on board with me.
+
+"Go out of that window now, instantly, or I shall put you out."
+
+"You will not, Treevor," beginning to cry; "you won't be so unkind. I
+only want to stay with you; let me stay."
+
+She was half-sitting on the edge of my berth, clinging to it with both
+hands. She was pale with an ivory pallor, her breasts rose in sobs
+under the transparent muslin of her vest.
+
+The ship gave a great heave under our feet.
+
+The blood beat so in my head and round my eyes I could hardly see her.
+I moved to her, clinging to one blind object. I bent over her and
+lifted her up. She was like a doll in weight. She was nothing to me.
+
+As she realised my intention she seemed to turn into a wild animal in
+my arms. She bit and tore at my wrists, and scratched my face with her
+long sharp nails.
+
+The ship was moving now and I was desperate.
+
+I walked with her to the window and put her feet over the ledge.
+
+We neither of us spoke a word. She clung to my neck so I thought she
+must overbalance me and drag me through with her.
+
+With all my force I pushed her outwards and away from me. Her hands
+broke from my neck and scratched down my face till the blood ran from
+it.
+
+"Don't struggle so," I warned her; "you will drop into the sea if you
+do." For a blue crack opened already between the moving ship and the
+quay.
+
+Words were useless. She bit and struggled and clung to me like a cat
+mad with fear and rage.
+
+With an effort I leant forward and half threw, half dropped her on the
+woodwork. She fell there with a gasping cry, and I drew the window to
+and shut it.
+
+The ship rose and fell now and the blue water gleamed in an
+ever-widening track between its side and the quay.
+
+I leant against the window glass and watched her through it. She had
+struggled to her knees and now knelt there weeping and stretching out
+little ivory tinted hands to the departing ship. My own eyes were
+full, and only through a mist could I see her kneeling there, a
+brilliant spot of colour in dazzling light on the deserted quay.
+
+I turned away at last as we struck out on the open water. There, on my
+berth, facing me as I stumbled back to it, lay a little yellow jacket.
+
+I threw myself upon it and put my hand over my eyes, while the ship
+made out beyond the fairy islands. And the gold night passed over and
+melted into the new day.
+
+
+
+
+PART TWO
+
+THE VIOLET NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+AT THE STUDIO
+
+
+I was back in London again, back in my studio with the dull grey light
+of the city falling through the windows, and all the vivid glory, the
+matchless splendour of the North lay like a past dream in the
+background of my memory. But still how clear the dream, how bright
+each moment of it, and how long to my retrospective vision! Was it
+possible I had only been there three or four months? It seemed like as
+many years. For time has this peculiarity, that joy and action shorten
+it while it is passing, but lengthen it when it is past. A week in
+which we have done nothing of note, but spent in stationary idleness,
+how long and tedious it seems, yet in looking back upon it, it appears
+short as a day; while a week in which we have travelled far, seen
+several cities and been glad in each, though the gilded moments have
+danced by on lightning feet, when we look back upon that week it seems
+as if we have lived a year.
+
+It was there, bright, radiant in my mind, the picture of those blue
+days and golden northern nights, and how the light of the picture
+seemed to gather round, and centre in a sweet youthful face with the
+blue stone earrings, hanging against the creamy neck, beside the
+rounded cheek, and the cluster of red flowers bound on each temple
+against the smooth black hair!
+
+I settled myself lower in the deep roomy armchair, and pushed my feet
+forward to the blazing fire. There was still half an hour before I
+could decently ring for tea, and it was too dark already to work. I
+had had a hard and disagreeable morning, too, and felt I needed rest
+and quiet thought. How the red flame leapt in the grate, and what a
+rich, warm, wine-dark colour it threw all round my red room! I rose
+and drew the heavy crimson curtains across the windows to shut out
+their steely patches of grey that spoiled the harmony of colour. I
+returned to my chair and glanced round with satisfaction. Fitted and
+furnished and hung with every beautiful shade of red, my studio always
+delighted and charmed my vision.
+
+My friends said I had papered and furnished it in red to throw up the
+white limbs and contours of my models, and this had something to do
+with it, for hardly any colour shows off white flesh to better
+advantage, though pale blue in this matter runs it close; but this was
+not the prompting motive. Rather it was that in England where all is
+so cold and tame and grey, from morals to colours, I liked to surround
+myself with this glowing barbaric crimson, this warm inviting tint.
+
+My eye in wandering from floor to ceiling rested finally on the empty
+easel, the numerous white unused sheets of paper near it. I felt in
+despair. Not even a sketch of a Phryne yet! Not even a model found!
+Not even the idea of where to find one!
+
+I had been seeing models all the morning, and how wearisome and
+vexatious, and even, towards the end, how repulsive that becomes! The
+wearying search after something that corresponds to the perfect ideal
+in one's brain, the constant raising of hope and ensuing
+disappointment as a misshapen foot or crooked knee destroys the effect
+of neck and shoulder, produce at last an intolerable irritation. I had
+dismissed them all finally, and they had trailed away in the rain, a
+dismal procession of dark-clothed women.
+
+A quarter of an hour of red stillness in that comfortable room had
+passed, and the warmth and quiet of it had crept over me and into me,
+gradually soothing away all vexations, when a knock came on the door
+and in answer to my, "Come in," some one entered the room behind me.
+
+"I am so glad to find you."
+
+I started to my feet at the sound of the soft voice, and went forward
+to the door.
+
+"Viola! how good of you to come." I took both her hands and drew her
+into the firelight which sparkled gratefully on her tall slender
+figure and the fair waves of hair under her velvet hat.
+
+"May I stay and have tea with you? I have shopping all the afternoon
+and as I was driving past I thought I would see if you were in and
+disengaged."
+
+"I shall be delighted," I said as I wheeled another armchair up to the
+fire.
+
+"You are sure? You have nothing else to do?"
+
+"Nothing, really nothing," I said, walking to the electric lights and
+switching them on; "and if I had, I would leave it all to have tea
+with you."
+
+She laughed, such a pretty dainty laugh! What a contrast to the rough
+giggles amongst the models this morning!
+
+"Trevor! you are just the same as ever; all compliments. But I am
+immensely glad you are not going to turn me out, for I am chilly and
+tired and want my tea and a talk with you very badly." And she settled
+down in her large chair with a sigh of content.
+
+I came back to the hearth and stood looking down upon her. The light
+was rose-coloured, falling through tinted globes, and soft as the
+firelight. She looked exquisite, and she must have seen the admiration
+in my eyes for she coloured under them.
+
+She was wearing a dark green velvet gown edged fur and which fitted
+her lovely figure closely, being perhaps designed to display it.
+
+"You have come like a glorious sunset to a gloomy day," I said. "I
+have had a horrid morning and been depressed all the afternoon."
+
+"You have no inspiration, then, yet for the Phryne?" she answered,
+glancing round; "otherwise you would be in the seventh heaven."
+
+"No," I groaned, "and the models are so dreadful; so far from giving
+one an inspiration, they would kill any one had. All last week I was
+trying to find a model, and all this morning again. I would give
+anything for a good one."
+
+She murmured a sympathetic assent, and I went on, pursuing my own
+thoughts freely, for Viola was my cousin and no one else knew or
+understood me so well as she did. We had grown up together, and always
+talked on all sorts of subjects to each other.
+
+"The difficulty is with most of these English models, they are so
+thick and heavy, so cart-horsey, or else they are so thin. The tall,
+graceful ones are too thin, I want those subtle, gracious lines, but I
+don't want sharp bones and corners. I want smooth, rounded contours,
+and yet the outlines to be delicate; I want slender grace and
+suppleness with roundness...."
+
+I stopped suddenly, the blood mounting to my forehead. I was looking
+down at her as she lay back in the chair. She looked at me, and our
+gaze got locked together. A thought had sprung suddenly between us. I
+realised all at once I was describing the figure before me, realised
+that I was face to face with the most perfect, enchanting model of my
+dearest dreams.
+
+There was a swift rush of red to her face, too, as I stopped. Up till
+then she had been quietly listening. But she saw my thought then. It
+was visible to both of us and for a moment a deadly silence dropped on
+us. Of course, I ought not to have stopped, but the thought came to me
+with such a blinding flash of sudden revelation that it paralysed me
+and took speech from my lips. Just in that moment the door opened and
+tea was brought in. I turned my attention immediately to making it,
+and what with asking her how much sugar she would have and pressing
+her to take hot toast and crumpets, the cloud of embarrassment passed
+and all was light and easy again. I dismissed the idea instantly, and
+we did not speak of the picture. I questioned her about her shopping,
+we recalled the last night's dance where we had been together, and
+spoke of a hundred other light matters in which we had common
+interests. Then a silence stole over us, and Viola sank far back in
+her chair, gazing with absent eyes into the fire.
+
+Suddenly she sat up and turned to me. I saw her heart must be beating
+fast, for her face and lips had grown quite white.
+
+"Trevor, I wish you would let me be your model for the Phryne."
+
+Almost immediately she had spoken the colour rushed in a burning
+stream across her face, forcing the tears to her eyes. I saw them brim
+up, sparkling to the lids, in the firelight.
+
+I sat up in my chair, leaning forwards towards her. My own heart
+seemed to rise with a leap into my throat.
+
+"Dearest! I could not think of such a thing! It is so good of you,
+but...."
+
+I stopped. She had sunk back in her chair. She was looking away from
+me. I saw the tears well up over the lids and roll slowly unchecked
+down her face.
+
+"I should so like to be of use to you," she murmured in a low tone,
+"and I think I could be in that way, immense use."
+
+I slid to my knees beside her chair, and took the slim, delicate white
+hand that hung over the arm in mine and pressed it, very greatly moved
+and hardly knowing what to answer her.
+
+"I shall never forget you have offered it, never cease to be grateful,
+but...."
+
+"There is no question of being grateful," she broke in gently, "unless
+it were on my side. I should think it an honour to be made part of
+your work, to live for ever in it, or at least much longer than in
+mortal life. What is one's body? It is nothing, it perishes so soon,
+but what you create will last for centuries at least."
+
+I pressed my lips to her hand in silence. I felt overwhelmed by the
+suggestion, by the unselfishness, by the grandeur of it. I saw that
+the proposition stood before her mind in a totally different light
+from that in which it would present itself to most women. But, then,
+the outlook of an artist upon life and all the things in life is
+entirely different from that of the ordinary person. It takes in the
+wide horizon, it embraces a universe, and not a world, it sweeps up to
+the large ideals, the abstract form of things, passing over the
+concrete and the actual which to ordinary minds make up the all they
+see.
+
+And Viola was an artist: she expressed herself in music as I did in
+painting. Our temperaments were alike though our gifts were different,
+and we served the same mystical Goddess though our appointments in her
+temple were not the same.
+
+As an artist the idea was, to me, simple enough, as a man it horrified
+me.
+
+"I could not allow it."
+
+She turned upon me.
+
+"Why?" she said simply.
+
+"Well, because ... because it is too great a sacrifice."
+
+"I have said it is no sacrifice. It is an honour."
+
+"It would injure you if it became known."
+
+"It will not become known."
+
+"Everything becomes known."
+
+"Well, I shouldn't care if it did."
+
+"By and by you might regret it. It might stand in the way of your
+marrying some one you loved."
+
+"I don't believe I shall ever want to marry. Do I look like a domestic
+person? In any case, I am quite sure I shouldn't want to marry a man
+if he objected to my being a model for a great picture to my own
+cousin. Why, Trevor, we are part of each other, as it were. I am like
+your own sister. What can it matter? While you are painting me I shall
+be nothing, the picture will be everything. I am no more than a dream
+or vision which might come before you, and you will give me life,
+immortality on your canvas. As an old woman when all beauty has gone
+from me, I shall be there alive, young, beautiful still."
+
+"It is all sophistry, dearest, I can't do it."
+
+"You will when you have thought it all over," she said softly, "at
+least if you think I should do--are you sure of that?"
+
+She rose and stood for a moment, one hand outstretched towards the
+mantelpiece, and resting there for support. The velvet gown clung to
+her, and almost every line of her form could be followed with the eye
+or divined. The throat was long, round, and full, the fall of the
+shoulder and the way its lines melted into the curves of the breast
+had the very intoxication of beauty in them, the waist was low,
+slender, and perfect, the main line to the knee and on to the ankle
+absolutely straight. To my practised eyes the clothing had little
+concealment. I knew that here was all that I wanted.
+
+"I am supposed to have a very perfect figure," she said with a faint
+smile, "and it seems rather a pity to use it so little. To let it be
+of service to you, to give you just what you want, to create a great
+picture, to save you all further worry over it, which is quite
+knocking you up, would be a great happiness to me."
+
+She paused. I said nothing.
+
+"I do not think I must stay any longer," she said glancing at my
+clock, "nor shall I persuade you any more. I leave it entirely in your
+hands. Write to me if you want me to come. Perhaps you may find
+another model."
+
+She smiled up at me. Her face had a curious delicate beauty hard to
+define. The beauty of a very transparent skin and sapphire eyes.
+
+I bent over her and kissed her bright scarlet lips.
+
+"Dearest! if you only knew how I appreciate all you have said, how
+good I think it of you! And I could never find a lovelier model; you
+know it is not that thought which influences me, but it is impossible.
+You must not think of it."
+
+"Very well," she said with a laugh in her lovely eyes, "but _you_
+will!"
+
+She disengaged herself from me, picked up a fur necklet from her
+chair, and went to the door.
+
+"Good-night," she said softly, and went out.
+
+Left to myself, I walked restlessly up and down the room. She was
+right. I could think of nothing but her words to me, and how her visit
+had changed my mood and all the atmosphere about me! It seemed as if
+she had filled it with electricity. My pulses were all beating hard.
+The quiet of the studio was intolerable. I was dining out that
+evening, and then going on to a dance. I would dress now a little
+early and then go to the club and spend the intermediate time there.
+
+My bedroom opened out of the studio by a small door, before which I
+generally had a red and gold Japanese screen. I went in and switched
+on the light and began to dress, trying to get away from my crowding
+thoughts.
+
+The temptation to accept Viola's suggestion was the greater because
+she was so absolutely free and mistress of her own actions.
+
+If she chose of her own free will to do any particular thing there was
+practically no one else to be consulted and no one to trouble her with
+reproof or reproaches.
+
+Early left an orphan and in possession of a small fortune in her own
+right, she had been brought up by an old aunt who simply worshipped
+her and never questioned nor allowed to be questioned anything which
+Viola did.
+
+She had given her niece an elaborate education, believing that a
+girl's mental training should be as severe as a boy's, and Viola knew
+her Greek and Latin and mathematics better than I knew mine, though
+all these had lately given way to the study of music, for which she
+had a great and peculiar gift.
+
+The old lady was delighted when she found her favourite niece was
+really one of the children of the gods, as she put it, and henceforth
+Viola's life was left still more unrestrained.
+
+"She has genius, Trevor," she would say to me, "just as you have, and
+we ordinary people can't profess to guide or control those who in
+reality are so much greater than we are. I leave Viola to judge for
+herself about life, I always have since she was quite a little thing,
+and I have no fear for her. Whatever she does I know it will always be
+right."
+
+Viola was just twenty, but this kind of training had given her an
+intelligence and developed her intellect far beyond her years.
+
+In her outlook upon life she was more like a man than a woman, and,
+never having been to school nor mixed much with other girls of her own
+age, she was free from all those small, petty habits of mind, that
+littleness of mental vision that so mars and dwarfs the ordinary
+feminine character.
+
+In this question of posing for the picture, to take her face also
+would, of course, be quite impossible, but I had my own ideal for the
+Phryne's face, nor was that important.
+
+That the figure should be something of unusual beauty, something
+peculiarly distinctive seemed to me a necessity. For the form of the
+Grecian Phryne had, by the mere force of its perfect and triumphant
+beauty, swept away the reason of all that circle of grey-bearded
+hostile judges called upon to condemn it, had carved for itself a
+place in history for ever. There should in its presentment be
+something peculiarly arresting and enchanting, or the artistic idea,
+the spirit of the picture, would be lost.
+
+The next morning I interviewed models again, and so strange is the
+human mind that while I honestly tried to find one that suited me,
+tried to be satisfied, I was full of feverish apprehension that I
+might do so, and when I had seen the last and could with perfect
+honesty reject her, I felt a rush of extraordinary elation all through
+me. I knew, and told myself so, every half second, that Viola's
+temptation was one I ought to and must resist, and yet the idea of
+yielding filled me with a wild instinctive delight that no reason
+could suppress. Yes, because once an artist has seen or conceived by
+his own imagination his perfect ideal, nothing else, nothing short of
+this will satisfy him. If it was difficult for me to find a model
+before, it was practically impossible to do so now. For, having once
+realised what it wanted, the mind impatiently rejected everything
+else, though it might possibly have accepted something less than its
+desire before that realisation of it.
+
+These models were all well-formed women, but they were commonplace.
+The hold Viola's form had upon the eye was that it was not
+commonplace. Its beauty was distinctive, peculiar, arresting. I was
+not a painter of types, but of exceptions. The common things of life
+are not interesting, nor do I think they are worthy subjects for Art
+to concern itself with. Something unusually beautiful, transcending
+the common type, is surely the best for the artist to try to
+perpetuate.
+
+Friday came, the end of the week, and I was still without a model. My
+nights had been nearly sleepless, and my days full of feverish
+anxiety: an active anxiety to accept another sitter and withstand the
+temptation of Viola, which fought desperately with the more passive
+anxiety not to be satisfied and to be obliged to yield. Between these
+two I had grown thin, as they fought within me, tearing me in the
+struggle.
+
+To-day, Friday, the war was over. I had sent a note to Viola asking
+her to have tea with me. If she came, if she still held to her wish, I
+should accept, and the Phryne was assured. How my heart leapt at the
+thought! Those last hours before an artist gives the first concrete
+form to the brain children of his intangible dreams, how full of a
+double life he seems! I was back from lunch and in the studio early; I
+could not tell when she might come, and I closed all the windows and
+made up the fire till the room seemed like a hot-house. I arranged a
+dais with screens of flaming colour behind it reflecting the red rays
+of the fire.
+
+If she consented, she should stand here after having changed into the
+Greek dress. And as the moment chosen for the picture was that in
+which Phryne is unveiling herself before her judges, I intended to let
+her discard the drapery as she liked. I should not attempt to pose
+her; I would not even direct her; I should simply watch her, and at
+some moment during the unveiling she would fall naturally into just
+the pose--some pose--I did not know myself yet which might give me my
+inspiration--that I wished. Then I would arrest her, ask her to remain
+in it. I thought so we should arrive nearest to the effect of that
+famous scene of long ago.
+
+The dress I had chosen was of a dull red tint, not unlike that of
+Leighton's picture, but I had no fear of seeming to copy Leighton.
+What true artist ever fears he may be considered a copyist? He knows
+the strength and vitality of his conception will need no spokesman
+when it appears.
+
+I felt frightfully restless and excited, a mad longing filled me to
+get the first sketch on paper. I hardly thought of Viola as Viola or
+my cousin then. She was already the Phryne of Athens for me, but when
+suddenly a light knock came on the door outside my heart seemed to
+stand still and I could hardly find voice to say, "Come in." When she
+entered, dressed in her modern clothes and hat, and held out her hand,
+all the modern, mundane atmosphere came back and brought confusion
+with it.
+
+"You said come early, so here I am," she said lightly. "Trevor," she
+added, gazing at me closely, "you are looking awfully handsome, but so
+white and ill. What is the matter?"
+
+"I have been utterly wretched about the picture. I know I ought not to
+accept your offer, but the temptation is too great. If you feel the
+same as you did about it, I am going to ask you to pose for me this
+afternoon."
+
+"I do feel just the same, Trevor," she answered earnestly. "You can't
+think how happy and proud I am to be of use to you."
+
+"You know what the picture is?" I asked her, holding her two hands
+and looking down into the great eyes raised confidently to mine.
+
+"I want you to dress in all those red draperies, and then, standing on
+the dais, to drop them, let them fall from you."
+
+"Yes, I think I know exactly. I will try, and, if I don't do it
+rightly, you must tell me and we must begin again."
+
+She took off her hat and cloak and gloves. Then she turned to me and
+asked for the dress. I gave it to her and showed her how it fastened
+and unfastened with a clasp on the shoulder.
+
+She listened quietly to my directions, then, gathering up all the thin
+drapery, walked to the screen and disappeared from my view.
+
+I sat down waiting. A great nervous tension held me. I had ceased to
+think of the right or wrong of my action. I was too absorbed now in
+the thought of the picture to be conscious of anything else.
+
+When she came from behind the screen clothed in the red Athenian
+draperies her face was quite white, but composed and calm. She did not
+look at me, but walked to the platform at once. I had withdrawn to a
+chair as far from it as was practicable, divining that the nearer I
+was the more my presence would weigh upon her. She faced me now on the
+dais, and very slowly began to unfasten the buckle on her shoulder. I
+sat watching her intently, hardly breathing, waiting for the moment.
+
+She was to me nothing now but the Phryne, and I was nothing but a
+pencil held in the hand of Art.
+
+The first folds of crimson fell, disclosing her throat and shoulders,
+the others followed, piling softly one on the other to her waist,
+where they stayed held by her girdle. The shoulders and breasts were
+revealed exquisite, gleaming white against the dull glow of the
+crimson stuff. I waited. It was a lovely, entrancing vision but I
+waited. She lowered her hand from her shoulder and brought it to her
+waist, firmly and without hesitation she unclasped the belt, and then
+taking the sides of it, one in each hand, with its enclosed drapery,
+which parted easily in the centre, she made a half step forwards to
+free herself from it, and stood revealed from head to foot. It was the
+moment. Her head thrown up, with her eyes fixed far above me, her
+throat and the perfect breast thrown outwards and forwards, the slight
+bend at the slim waist accentuating the round curves of the hips, one
+straight limb with the delicate foot advanced just before the other,
+the arms round, beautifully moulded, held tense at her sides, as the
+hands clutched tightly the falling folds behind her, these made up the
+physical pose, and the pride, the tense nervousness, the defiance of
+her own feelings gave its meaning expression. I raised my hand and
+called to her to pause just so, to be still, if she could, without
+stirring.
+
+She quivered all through her frame at the sudden shock of hearing my
+voice; then stood rigid. I had my paper ready, and began to sketch
+rapidly.
+
+How beautiful she was! In all my experience, in the whole of my
+career, I had never had such a model. The skin was a marvellous
+whiteness: there seemed no brown, red, or yellow shades upon it; nor
+any of that mottled soap appearance that ruins so many models. She was
+white, with the warm, true dazzling whiteness of the perfect blonde.
+
+My head burned: I felt that great wave of inspiration roll through me
+that lifts the artist to the feet of heaven. There is no happiness
+like it. No, not even the divine transports and triumph of love can
+equal it.
+
+I sketched rapidly, every line fell on the paper as I wished it. The
+time flew. I felt nothing, knew nothing, but that the glorious image
+was growing, taking life under my hand. I was in a world of utter
+silence, alone with the spirit of divine beauty directing me, creating
+through me.
+
+Suddenly, from a long distance it seemed, a little cry or exclamation
+came to me.
+
+"Trevor, I must move!"
+
+I started, dropped the paper, and rose.
+
+The light had grown dim, the fire had burned hollow. Viola had
+dropped to her knees, and was for the moment a huddled blot of
+whiteness amongst the crimson tones. I advanced, filled with
+self-reproach for my selfish absorption. But she rose almost directly,
+wrapped in some of the muslin, and walked from the dais to the screen.
+I hesitated to follow her there, and went back to the fallen picture.
+I picked it up and gazed on it with rapture--how perfect it was! The
+best thing of a lifetime! Viola seemed so long behind the screen I
+grew anxious and walked over to it. As I came round it, she was just
+drawing on her bodice, her arms and neck were still bare. She motioned
+me back imperatively, and I saw the colour stream across her face. I
+retreated. It was absurd in a way, that blush as my eyes rested on her
+then, I who just now ... and yet perfectly reasonable, understandable.
+Then she was the Phryne, a vision to me, as she had said, in ancient
+Athens. And now we were modern man and woman again. All that we do in
+this life takes its colour from our attitude of mind towards it, and
+but for her artist's mind, a girl like Viola could never have done
+what she had at all.
+
+In a moment more she came from behind the screen. She looked white and
+cold, and came towards the fire shivering. I drew her into my arms,
+strained her against my breast, and kissed her over and over again in
+a passion of gratitude.
+
+"How can I thank you! You have done for me what no one else could. I
+can never tell you what I feel about it."
+
+She put her arms round my neck, and kissed me in return.
+
+"Any one would do all they could for you, I think," she said softly.
+"You are so beautiful and so nice about things I am only too happy to
+have been of use to you."
+
+"What a brute I was to have forgotten you were standing so long. Was
+it very bad? Were you cold?"
+
+"At the end I was, but I shouldn't have moved for that. I got so
+cramped. I couldn't keep my limbs still any longer. I was sorry to be
+so stupid and have to disturb you."
+
+"I can't think how you stood so well," I said remorsefully, "and so
+long. It is so different for a practised model."
+
+"Well, I did practise keeping quite still in one position every day
+all this last week, but of course a week is not long."
+
+I had pressed the bell, and tea was brought in. I busied myself with
+making it for her. She looked white and ill. I felt burning with a
+sense of elation, of delighted triumph. The picture was there. It
+glimmered a white patch against the chair a little way off. The idea
+was realised, the inspiration caught, all the rest was only a matter
+of time.
+
+We drank our tea in silence. Viola looked away from me into the fire.
+She did not seem constrained or embarrassed. Having decided to do, as
+she had, and conquer her own feelings, she did so simply, grandly, in
+a way that suited the greatness of her nature. There was no mincing
+modesty, no self-conscious affectation. The agony of confusion that
+she had felt in that moment when she had stood before me with her hand
+on the clasp of her girdle, had been evident to me, but her pride
+forced her to crush it out of sight.
+
+I went over to her low chair and sat down at her feet.
+
+"Do you know you have shown me this afternoon something which I did
+not believe existed--an absolutely perfect body without a fault or
+flaw anywhere. I did not believe there could be anything so
+exquisitely beautiful."
+
+She coloured, but a warm happy look came into her eyes as she gazed
+back at me.
+
+"So I did really satisfy you? I realised your expectations?" she
+murmured. I lifted one of her hands to my lips and kissed it.
+
+"Satisfied is not the word," I returned, looking up into the dark blue
+eyes above me with my own burning with admiration. "I was entranced.
+May I shew it to you?"
+
+"Yes, I should like to see it," she answered.
+
+I rose and brought over to her the picture and set it so that we both
+could see it together. She gazed at it some time in silence.
+
+"Do you like it?" I asked suddenly with keen anxiety.
+
+"You have idealised me, Trevor!"
+
+"It is impossible to idealise what is in itself divine," I replied
+quietly. She looked at me, her face full Of colour but her eyes alight
+and smiling.
+
+"I am so glad, so happy that you are pleased. You have drawn it
+magnificently. What life you put into your things--they live and
+breathe."
+
+She turned and looked at my clock.
+
+"I must go now, I have been here ages." She began to put on her hat
+and cloak. When I had fastened the latter round her throat, I took
+both her hands in mine.
+
+"May I expect you to-morrow?"
+
+"To-morrow? Let me see. Well, I was going to the Carrington's to
+lunch. I promised to go, so I must; but I need not stay long. I can
+leave at three and be here at half past; only that will be too late in
+any case on account of the light, won't it?"
+
+"Not if it is a bright day."
+
+"You see, I need not accept any more invitations. I shan't, if I am
+coming here, but I have one or two old engagements I must keep."
+
+I dropped her hands and turned away.
+
+"But I can't let you give up your amusements, your time for me in this
+way!" I said.
+
+Viola laughed.
+
+"It's not much to give up--a few luncheons and teas! As long as I have
+time for my music I will give you all the rest."
+
+She stood drawing on her gloves, facing the fire; her large soft,
+fearless eyes met mine across the red light.
+
+I stepped forwards towards her impulsively.
+
+"What _can_ I say? How can I thank you or express a hundredth part of
+my gratitude?"
+
+Viola shook her head with her softest smile and a warm caressing light
+in her eyes.
+
+"You look at it quite wrongly," she said lightly. "My reward is great
+enough, surely! You are giving me immortality."
+
+Then she went out, and I was alone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For a fortnight I was happy. Viola came regularly every day to the
+studio, and the picture grew rapidly, I was absorbed in it, lived for
+it, and had that strange peace and glowing content that Art bestows,
+and which like that other peace "passeth all understanding."
+
+Then gradually a sense of unrest mingled with the calm. The whole
+afternoon while Viola was with me I worked happily, content to the
+point of being absolutely oblivious of everything except ourselves and
+the picture. Our tea together afterwards, when we discussed the
+progress made and the colour effects, was a delight. But the moment
+the door was closed after her, when she had left me, a blank seemed to
+spread round me. The picture itself could not console me. I gazed and
+gazed at it, but the gaze did not satisfy me nor soothe the feverish
+unrest. I longed for her presence beside me again.
+
+One day after the posing she seemed so tired and exhausted that I
+begged her to lie down a little and drew up my great comfortable
+couch, like a Turkish divan, to the fire. She did as she was bid, and
+I heaped up a pile of blue cushions behind her fair head.
+
+"I am so tired," she exclaimed and let her eyes close and her arms
+fall beside her.
+
+I stood looking down on her. Her face was shell-like in its clear
+fairness and transparency, and the beautiful expressive eyebrows drawn
+delicately on the white forehead appealed to me.
+
+The intimacy established between us, her complete willing sacrifice to
+me, her surrender, her trust in me, the knowledge of herself and her
+beauty she had allowed me gave birth suddenly in my heart to a great
+overwhelming tenderness and a necessity for its expression.
+
+I bent over her, pressed my lips down on hers and held them there. She
+did not open her eyes, but raised her arms and put them round my neck,
+pressing me to her. In a joyous wave of emotion I threw myself beside
+her and drew the slender, supple figure into my arms.
+
+"Trevor," she murmured, as soon as I would let her, "I am afraid you
+are falling in love with me."
+
+"I have already," I answered. "I love you, I want for my own. You must
+marry me, and come and live at the studio."
+
+"I don't think I can marry you," she replied in very soft tones, but
+she did not try to move from my clasp.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Artists should not marry: it prevents their development. How old are
+you?"
+
+"Twenty-eight," I answered, half-submerged in the delight of the
+contact with her, of knowing her in my arms, hardly willing or able to
+listen to what she said.
+
+"And how many women have you loved?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know," I answered. "I have been with lots, of course, but
+I don't think I have ever loved at all till now."
+
+"What about the little girl in the tea-shop at Sitka?"
+
+"I don't think I loved her. I wanted her as an experience."
+
+"Is it not just the same with me?"
+
+"No, it isn't. It's quite different. Do not worry me with questions,
+Viola. Kiss me and tell me you love me."
+
+She raised herself suddenly on one elbow and leant over me, kissing
+me on the eyes and lips, all over my face, with passionate intensity.
+
+"I do love you. You are like my life to me, but I know I ought not to
+marry you. I should absorb you. You would love me. You would not want
+to be unfaithful to me. But fidelity to one person is madness an
+impossibility to an artist if he is to reach his highest development.
+It can't be. We must not think of it."
+
+The blood went to my head in great waves. The supreme tenderness of a
+moment back seemed gone, her words had roused another phase of
+passion, the harsh fury of it.
+
+"I don't care about the art, I don't care about anything. You shall
+marry me. I will make you love me."
+
+"You don't understand. If you were fifty-eight I would marry you
+directly."
+
+"You shall marry me before then," I answered, and kissed her again and
+put my hands up to her soft-haired head to pull it down to my breast
+and dragged loose some of its soft coils.
+
+"Trevor, you are mad. Let me get up."
+
+I rose myself, and left her free to get up. She sat up on the couch,
+white and trembling.
+
+"Now you are going to say you won't come to me any more, I suppose?" I
+said angrily. The nervous excitement of the moment was so great; there
+was such a wild booming in my ears I could hardly hear my own voice.
+
+She looked up. The tears welled into her luminous blue eyes.
+
+"How unkind you are! and how unjust! Of course I shall come, must come
+every day if you want it till the Phryne is done. You don't know how I
+love you."
+
+I took her dear little hand and kissed it.
+
+"I am sorry," I said. "Forgive me, but you must not say such stupid
+things. Of course you will marry me; why, we are half married already.
+Most people would say we ought to be."
+
+I turned on the lights and drew the table up to the fire, which I
+stirred, and began to make the tea.
+
+Viola sat on the edge of the couch in silence, coiling up her hair.
+
+She seemed very pale and tired, and I tried to soothe her with
+increased tenderness. I made her a cup of tea and came and sat beside
+her while she drank it. Then I put my arm round her waist and got her
+to lean against me, and put her soft fair-haired head down on my
+shoulder and rest there in silence.
+
+I stroked one of her hands that lay cold and nerveless in her lap with
+my warm one.
+
+"You have done so much for me," I said softly; "wonderful things which
+I can never forget, and now you must belong to me altogether. No two
+people could love each other more than we do. It would be absurd of
+us not to marry." I kissed her, and she accepted my caresses and did
+not argue with me any more; so I felt happier, and when she rose to
+leave our good-bye was very tender, our last kiss an ecstasy.
+
+When she had gone I picked up one of the sketches I had first made of
+her and gazed long at it.
+
+How extravagantly I had come to love her now. I realised in those
+moments how strong this passion was that had grown up, as it were,
+under cover of the work, and that I had not fully recognised till now.
+
+How intensely the sight of these wonderful lines moved me! I felt that
+I could worship her, literally. That she had become to me as a
+religion is to the enthusiast.
+
+I must be the possessor, the sole owner of her. I felt she was mine
+already. The agony and the loss, if she ever gave herself to another,
+would be unendurable. If that happened I should let a revolver end
+everything for me. I did not believe even the thought of my work would
+save me.
+
+Yet how curious this same passion is, I reflected, gazing at the
+exquisite image on the paper before me. If one of these lines were
+bent out of shape, twisted, or crooked, this same passion would cease
+to be. The love and affection and esteem I had for her would remain,
+but this intense desire and longing for her to be my own property,
+which shook me now to the very depths of my system, would utterly
+vanish.
+
+Yet it would be wrong to say that these lines alone had captured me,
+for had they enclosed a stupid or commonplace mind they would have
+stirred me as little as if they themselves had been imperfect.
+
+No it is when we meet a Spirit that calls to us from within a form of
+outward beauty, and only then, that the greatest passion is born
+within us.
+
+And that I felt for Viola now, and I knew--looking back through a
+vista of other and lighter loves--I had never known yet its equal. She
+loved me, too, that great fact was like a chord of triumphant music
+ringing through my heart. Then why this fancy that she would not marry
+me? How could I possibly break it down? persuade her of its folly?
+
+I walked up and down the studio all that evening, unable to go out to
+dinner, unable to think of anything but her, and all through the night
+I tossed about, restless and sleepless, longing for the hour on the
+following day which should bring her to me again.
+
+Yet how those hours tried me now! It would be impossible to continue.
+She must and should marry me. It was only for me she held back from it
+apparently, yet for me it would be everything.
+
+One afternoon, after a long sitting, the power to work seemed to
+desert me suddenly. My throat closed nervously, my mouth grew dry,
+the whole room seemed swimming round me, and the faultless, dazzling
+figure before me seemed receding into a darkening mist. I flung away
+my brush and rose suddenly. I felt I must move, walk about, and I
+started to pace the room then suddenly reeled, and saved myself by
+clutching at the mantelpiece.
+
+"What is it? What is the matter?" came Viola's voice, sharp with
+anxiety, across the room. "Are you ill? Shall I come to you?"
+
+"No, no," I answered, and put my head down on the mantelpiece. "Go and
+dress. I can't work any more."
+
+I heard her soft slight movements as she left the dais. I did not
+turn, but sank into the armchair beside me, my face covered by my
+hands.
+
+Screens of colour passed before my eyes, my ears sang.
+
+I had not moved when I felt her come over to me. I looked up, she was
+pale with anxiety.
+
+"You are ill, Trevor! I am so sorry."
+
+"I have worked a little too much, that's all," I said constrainedly,
+turning from her lovely anxious eyes.
+
+"Have you time to stay with me this evening? We could go out and get
+some dinner, if you have, and then go on to a theatre. Would they miss
+you?"
+
+"Not if I sent them a wire. I should like to stay with you. Are you
+better?"
+
+I looked up and caught one of her hands between my own burning and
+trembling ones.
+
+"I shall never be any better till I have you for my own, till we are
+married. Why are you so cruel to me?"
+
+"Cruel to you? Is that possible?" Her face had crimsoned violently,
+then it paled again to stone colour.
+
+"Well, don't let's discuss that. The picture's done. I can't work on
+it any more. It can't be helped. Let's go out and get some dinner,
+anyway."
+
+Viola was silent, but I felt her glance of dismay at the only
+half-finished figure on the easel.
+
+She put on her hat and coat in silence, and we went out. After we had
+ordered dinner and were seated before it at the restaurant table we
+found we could not eat it. We sat staring at one another across it,
+doing nothing.
+
+"Did you really mean that ... that you wouldn't finish the picture?"
+she said, after a long silence.
+
+I looked back at her; the pale transparency of her skin, the blue of
+the eyes, the bright curls of her hair in the glow of the electric
+lamp, looked wonderfully delicate, entrancing, and held my gaze.
+
+"I don't think I can. I have got to a point where I must get away from
+it and from you."
+
+"But it is dreadful to leave it unfinished."
+
+"It's better than going mad. Let's have some champagne. Perhaps that
+will give us an appetite."
+
+Viola did not decline, and the wine had a good effect upon us.
+
+We got through some part of our dinner and then took a hansom to the
+theatre. As we sat close, side by side, in one of the dark streets, I
+bent over her and whispered:
+
+"If we had been married this morning, and you were coming back to the
+studio with me after the theatre I should be quite happy and I could
+finish the picture."
+
+She said nothing, only seemed to quiver in silence, and looked away
+from me out of the window.
+
+We took stalls and had very good seats, but what that play was like I
+never knew. I tried to keep my eyes on the stage, but it floated away
+from me in waves of light and colour. I was lost in wondering where I
+had better go to get fresh inspiration, to escape from the picture,
+from Viola, from myself. Away, I must get away. _Coelum, non animum,
+mutant qui trans mare current_ is not always true. Our mind is but a
+chameleon and takes its hues from many skies.
+
+In the vestibule at the end I said:
+
+"It's early yet. Come and have supper somewhere with me, you had a
+wretched dinner."
+
+Anything to keep her with me for an hour longer! Any excuse to put
+off, to delay that frightful wrench that seems to tear out the inside
+of both body and soul which parting from her to-night would mean.
+
+"Do you want me to come to the studio with you afterwards?" she asked.
+
+I looked back at her with my heart beating violently. Her face was
+very pale, and the pupils in her eyes dilated.
+
+We had moved through the throng and passed outside.
+
+The night was fine. We walked on, looking out for a disengaged hansom.
+I could hardly breathe: my heart seemed stifling me. What was in her
+mind? What would the next few minutes mean for us both?
+
+My brain swam. My thoughts went round in dizzying circles.
+
+"We shan't have time for supper and to go to the studio as well," I
+answered quietly.
+
+"I don't think I want any supper," she replied.
+
+A sudden joy like a great flame leapt through me as I caught the
+words.
+
+A crawling hansom came up. I hailed it and put her in and sprang in
+beside her, full of that delight that touches in its intensity upon
+agony. "Westbourne Street," I called to the man. "No. 2, The Studio."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE CALL OF THE CUCKOO
+
+
+I stood looking through the window of my studio thinking.
+
+The worst had happened, or the best, whichever it was. Viola had
+become my mistress. She had resolutely refused to be my wife, and the
+alternative had followed of necessity. The picture had brought us
+together, it held us together. I could not separate from her without
+sacrificing the picture, and so destroying her happiness, as she said,
+and rendering useless all that she had done for me so far.
+
+The picture forced us into an intimacy from which I could not escape
+and which, now that the devastating clutch of passion had seized me, I
+could not endure unless she became my own. Viola had seen this and
+given me herself as unhesitatingly as she had at first given me her
+beauty for the picture.
+
+In her relations with me she seemed to reach the highest point of
+unselfishness possible to the human character. For I felt that it was
+to me and for me she had surrendered herself, not to her own passion
+nor for her own pleasure.
+
+She would have come day after day and sat to me, shewed me herself and
+delighted in that self's-reproduction on the canvas, talked to me,
+delighted in our common worship of beauty, accepted my caresses
+and--for herself--wanted nothing more.
+
+I had worked well in the past fortnight since the night of the
+theatre, not so well perhaps as in that first clear period of
+inspiration, of purely artistic life when Viola was to me nothing but
+the beautiful Greek I was creating on my canvas, but still, well.
+
+Some may think I naturally should from a sense of gratitude, a sense
+of duty,--that I should be spurred to do my best, since avowedly Viola
+had sacrificed all that the work should be good.
+
+But ah, how little has the Will to do with Art!
+
+How well has the German said, "The Will in morals is everything; in
+Art, nothing. In Art, nothing avails but the being able."
+
+The most intense desire, the most fervid wish, in Art, helps us
+nothing. On the contrary, a great desire to do well in Art, more often
+blinds the eye and clogs the brain and causes our hand to lose its
+cunning. Unbidden, unasked for, unsought, often in our lightest, most
+careless moments, the Divine Afflatus descends upon us.
+
+We had arranged to have a week-end together out of town. Fate had
+favoured us, for Viola's aunt had gone to visit her sister for a few
+weeks, and the girl was left alone in the town house, mistress of all
+her time and free to do as she pleased. The short interviews at the
+studio, delightful as they were, seemed to fail to satisfy us any
+longer. We craved for that deeper intimacy of "living together."
+
+This is supposed to be fatal to passion in the end, but whether this
+is so or not, it is what passion always demands and longs for in the
+beginning.
+
+So we had planned for four days together in the country, four days of
+May, with a delicious sense of delight and secret joy and warm
+heart-beatings.
+
+I had dined at her house last night when all the final details had
+been arranged in a palm-shaded corner by the piano, our conversation
+covered by the chatter of the other guests. No one knew of our plan,
+it was a dear secret between us, but it would not have mattered very
+much if others had known that we were going into the country. I was
+always supposed to be able to look after Viola, and everybody assumed
+that it was only a question of time when we should marry each other.
+We had grown up together, we were obviously very much attached to each
+other, and we were cousins. And with that amazing inconsistency that
+is the chief feature of the British public, while it would be shocked
+at the idea of your marrying your sister, it always loves the idea of
+your marrying your cousin, the person who in all the world is most
+like your sister.
+
+However, all we as hapless individuals of this idiotic community have
+to do is to secretly evade its ridiculous conventions when they don't
+suit us, and to make the most of them when they do.
+
+And as I was more anxious to marry Viola than about anything else in
+the world, I welcomed the convention that assigned her to me and made
+the most of it.
+
+For all that, we kept the matter of our four days to ourselves and
+planned out its details with careful secrecy.
+
+I was to meet her at Charing-Cross station, and we were going to take
+an afternoon train down into Kent where Viola declared she knew of a
+lovely village of the real romantic kind. I had thought we ought to
+write or wire for rooms at a hotel beforehand, but Viola had been sure
+she would find what she wanted when we arrived, and she wished to
+choose a place herself.
+
+So there was nothing more to do. My suit-case was packed, and when the
+time came to a quarter past two I got into a hansom and drove to the
+station.
+
+Almost as soon as I got there, Viola drove up, punctual to the minute.
+
+She knew her own value to men too well to try and enhance it by always
+being late for an appointment as so many women do.
+
+She looked fresh and lovely in palest grey, her rose-tinted face
+radiant with excitement.
+
+"I haven't kept you waiting, have I?" was her first exclamation after
+our greeting.
+
+"I had so much work to do for Aunt Mary all the morning, I thought I
+should not have time to really get off myself."
+
+"No, you haven't kept me waiting," I answered; "and, if you had, it
+would not have mattered. You know I would wait all day for you."
+
+She glanced up with a wonderful light-filled smile that set every cell
+in my body singing with delight, and we went down the platform to
+choose our carriage.
+
+When the train started from Charing Cross the day was dull and
+heavy-looking; warm, without sunshine. But after an hour's run from
+town we got into an atmosphere of crystal and gold and the Kentish
+fruit trees stretched round us a sea of pink and white foam under a
+cloudless sky.
+
+When we stepped out at our destination, a little sleepy country
+station, the air seemed like nectar to us. It was the breath of May,
+real merry, joyous English May at the height of her wayward, uncertain
+beauty.
+
+We left our light luggage at the station, and walked out from it,
+choosing at random the first white, undulating road that opened before
+us.
+
+The little village clustered round the station, but Viola did not want
+to lodge in the village.
+
+"We can come back to it if we are obliged, but we shall be sure to
+find a cottage or a wayside inn."
+
+So we went on slowly in the transparent light of a perfect May
+afternoon.
+
+There are periods when England both in climate and landscape is
+perfect, when her delicate, elusive loveliness can compare favourably
+with the barbaric glory, the wild magnificence of other countries.
+
+On this afternoon a sort of rapture fell upon us both as we went down
+that winding road. The call of the cuckoo resounded from side to side,
+clear and sonorous like a bell, it echoed and re-echoed across our
+path under the luminous dome of the tranquil sky and over the hedges
+of flowering thorn, snow-white and laden with fragrance.
+
+Everywhere the fruit trees were in bloom: delicate masses of white and
+pink rose against the smiling innocent blue of the sky.
+
+"Now here is the very place," exclaimed Viola suddenly, and following
+her eyes I saw behind the high, green hedge bordering the road on
+which we were walking some red roofs rising, half hidden by the masses
+of white cherry blossom which hung over them. A cottage was there
+boasting a garden in front, a garden that was filled with lilac and
+laburnum not yet in bloom; filled to overflowing, for the lilac bulged
+all over the hedge in purple bunches and the laburnum poured its young
+leaves down on it. A tiny lawn, rather long-grassed and not innocent
+of daisies, took up the centre of the garden, and on to this two open
+casements looked; above again, two open windows, half-lost in the
+white clouds of cherry bloom.
+
+"But how do you know they've any rooms?" I expostulated.
+
+Viola looked at me with jesting scorn in her eyes.
+
+"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out."
+
+She put her hand unhesitatingly on the latch of this apparently sacred
+domain of a private house, opened the gate, and passed in; I followed
+her inwardly fearful of what our reception might be.
+
+"Men have no moral courage," she remarked superbly as we reached the
+porch and rang the bell.
+
+A clean-looking woman came to the door after some seconds.
+
+"Apartments? Yes, miss, we have a sitting-room and two bedrooms
+vacant," she answered to Viola's query. "Shall I show them to you?"
+
+We passed through a narrow, little hall smelling of new oilcloth into
+a fair-sized room which possessed one of the casements we had seen
+from outside and through which came the white glow and scent of the
+cherry bloom and the song of a thrush.
+
+"This will do," remarked Viola with a glance round; "and what bedrooms
+have you? We only want a sitting-room and one bedroom now."
+
+"Well, ma'am, the room over this is the drawing-room. That's let from
+next Monday. Then I have a nice double-room, however, I could let with
+this."
+
+"We will go and see it," said Viola. And we went upstairs.
+
+It seemed a long way up, and when we reached it and the door was
+thrown open we saw a large room, it was true but the ceiling sloped
+downwards at all sorts of unexpected angles like that of an attic, and
+the casements were small, opening almost into the branches of the
+cherry-tree.
+
+"What do you want for these two?" Viola enquired.
+
+"Five guineas a week, ma'am," returned the woman, placidly folding her
+hands together in front of her.
+
+I saw a momentary look of surprise flash across Viola's face. Even
+she, the young person of independent wealth, and who commanded far
+more by her talents, was taken aback at the figure.
+
+"Surely that's a good deal," she said after a second.
+
+"Well, ma'am, I had an artist here last summer and he had these two
+rooms, and he said as he was leaving: 'Mrs. Jevons, you can't ask too
+much for these rooms. The view from that window and the cherry-tree
+alone is worth all the money.'"
+
+We glanced through the window as she spoke. It was certainly very
+lovely. A veil of star-like jasmine hung at one side, and without,
+through the white bloom of the cherry, one caught glimpses of the
+turquoise-blue of the sky. Beneath, the garden with the wandering
+thrushes and its masses of lilac; beyond, the soft outline of the
+winding country road leading to indefinite distance of low blue hills.
+
+"We'll take them for the sake of the cherry-tree," Viola said smiling.
+
+"Will you send to the station for our light luggage and let us have
+some tea presently?"
+
+The woman promised to do both at once and ambled out of the room,
+leaving us there and closing the door behind her.
+
+I looked round, a sense of delight, of spontaneous joy, filling slowly
+every vein, welling up irresistibly all through my being.
+
+For the first time I stood in a room with Viola which we were going to
+share. No other form of possession, of intimacy, is quite the same as
+this, nor speaks to a lover in quite the same way.
+
+I looked at her. She stood in the centre of the rather poorly
+furnished and bare-looking room, in her travelling dress of a soft
+grey cloth. Her figure that always woke all my senses to rapture,
+shewed well in the clear, simple lines of the dress. Over the perfect
+bosom passed little silver cords, drawing the coat to meet.
+
+Beneath her grey straw summer hat, wide-brimmed, a pink rose nestled
+against the light masses of her hair. Her eyes looked out at me with a
+curious, tender smile.
+
+She threw herself into a low cane chair by the window, I crossed the
+room suddenly and knelt beside it.
+
+"Darling, you are pleased to be here with me, are you not?"
+
+"Pleased! I am absolutely happy. I have the sensation that whatever
+happened I could not possibly be more happy than I am."
+
+She put one arm round my neck and went on softly in a meditative
+voice:
+
+"I can't think how some girls go on living year after year all through
+their youth never knowing this sort of pleasure and happiness, for
+which they are made, can you?"
+
+"They don't dare to do the things, I suppose," I answered.
+
+"Perhaps they wouldn't give them any pleasure, ... but it seems
+extraordinary." Her voice died away. Her blue eyes fixed themselves on
+me in a soft, dreaming gaze.
+
+I locked both my arms round her waist and kissed her lips into
+silence. A knock at the door made me spring to my feet. Viola remained
+where she was, unmoved, and said, "Come in."
+
+A trim-looking maid came in with rather round eyes fixed open to see
+all she could. She had a can of hot water in her hand.
+
+"Please, mum, I thought you'd like some hot water."
+
+"Very much," returned Viola calmly. "Thank you."
+
+The maid very slowly crossed the room to the washing-stand and set the
+can in the basin, covering it with a towel with elaborate care and
+deliberateness, looking at Viola out of the corners of her eyes as she
+did so.
+
+"Please, m'm, when your luggage comes shall I bring it up?"
+
+"Yes, do please, bring it up at once," replied Viola, and the girl
+slowly withdrew, shutting the door in the same lengthy manner after
+her.
+
+Viola got up and crossed to the glass. She took off her hat and
+smoothed back her hair with her hand. Each time she did so, the light
+rippled exquisitely over its shining waves.
+
+"I wonder if I ought to wash my face?" she remarked, looking in the
+glass; "does it look dusty?"
+
+"Not in the least," I said, studying the pink and white reflection in
+the glass over her shoulder.
+
+"Don't waste the time washing your face. Come and look out of the
+window."
+
+We went over to the little casement, and leant our arms side by side
+on the sill.
+
+The glorious afternoon sunlight was ripening and deepening into
+orange, a burnished sheen lay over everything, the blue hills were
+changing into violet, the trees along the road stood motionless, soft,
+and feathery-looking in the sleepy heat. As we looked out we saw a
+light cart coming leisurely along and recognised our luggage in it.
+
+Some fifteen minutes later the round-eyed maid reappeared, with a man
+following her carrying our luggage.
+
+"If you please, m'm, Mrs. Jevons says would the gentleman go down and
+give what orders he likes for dinner for to-day and to-morrow as the
+tradesmen are here now and would like to know."
+
+"Do you mind going down, Trevor?" Viola asked me. "I want just to get
+a few of my things out?"
+
+"Certainly not," I answered, "I'll go." And I followed the maid out
+and downstairs.
+
+When I returned to the room about half-an-hour later, it was empty,
+and as I looked round it seemed transformed, now that her possessions
+were scattered about. I walked across it, a curious sense of pleasure
+seeming to clasp my heart and rock it in a cradle of joy.
+
+I glanced at the toilet table. On the white cloth lay now two
+gold-backed brushes, a gold-backed mirror and a gold button-hook, a
+little clock in silver and a framed photograph of me; over the chair
+by the dressing-table was thrown what seemed a mass of mauve silk and
+piles of lace. I lifted it very gently, fearing it would almost fall
+to pieces, it seemed so fragile, and discovered it was her
+dressing-gown. How the touch of its folds stirred me since it was
+_hers_!
+
+I replaced it carefully, wondering at the keen sensation of pleasure
+that invaded me as the soft laces touched my hands.
+
+I turned to my own suit-case, unstrapped it, opened it, and then
+pulled out the top drawer of the chest, intending to lay my things in,
+but I stopped short as I drew it out.
+
+A sheet of tissue paper lay on the top, and underneath this was her
+dinner-dress--a delicate white cloud of shimmering stuff told me it
+was that--and at the end of the drawer I saw two little white shoes
+and white silk stockings.
+
+I paused, looking down at the contents of the drawer, wondering at the
+wave of emotion they sent through me. Why, when I possessed the girl
+herself, should these things of hers have any power to move me?
+
+It was perhaps partly because this form of possession, of intimacy,
+was so new to me, and partly because I was young and still keenly
+sensitive to all the delights of life and not yet even on the edge of
+satiety. I lifted one little shoe out and sat down with it in my hand,
+gazing at its delicate, perfect shape, my heart beating quickly and
+the blood mounting joyously to my brain.
+
+What a wonderful thing it is, this life in youth when even the sight
+of a girl's shoe can bring one such keen, passionate pleasure!
+
+Yet what pain, what agony it would be if by chance I had come across
+this shoe and held it in my hand as now, and there was no violet night
+to follow, no white arms going to be stretched out through its deep
+mauve-tinted shadows!
+
+I was still sitting with the shoe in my hand when Viola reappeared,
+her arms full of lilac.
+
+"I went down to the garden to get some of this," she said. "It looked
+so lovely. What are you doing, Trevor, sitting there? The woman has
+made the tea, and it will be much too strong if you don't come down."
+
+She came up behind me and I saw her flush and smile in the glass as
+she caught sight of her shoe. I looked up, and she coloured still more
+at my glance.
+
+"I am thinking about this and other things," I said smiling up at her.
+
+She bent over and kissed me and took the shoe out of my hand.
+
+"I am glad you like my little shoe," she said gently with a tender
+edge to her tone, replacing the shoe in the drawer.
+
+"Now do come down."
+
+She put all the lilac in a great mass in the jug and basin, and we
+went downstairs.
+
+After tea we went out to explore our new and temporarily acquired
+territory, and found there was another flower garden at the side of
+the house. This, like the one in front, was hedged round with lilac
+laden with glorious blossom of all shades, from deepest purple through
+all the degrees of mauve to white. Every here and there the line was
+broken by a May-tree just bursting into bloom that thrust its pink or
+white buds through the lilac. A narrow path paved with large, uneven,
+moss-covered stone flags led down the centre and on through a little
+wicket gate into the kitchen garden beyond, so that altogether there
+was quite an extensive walk through the three gardens, all
+flower-lined and sweetly fragrant. We passed slowly along the path
+down to the extreme end of the kitchen garden where there was a seat
+under a broad-leaved fig-tree. By the side of the seat stood an old
+pump, handle and spout shaded by a vine that half trained and half of
+its own will trailed and gambolled up the old red brick garden wall. A
+flycatcher perched on the pump handle and thrilled out its gay
+irresponsible song.
+
+"I have just come over the sea and I am so glad to be here, so glad,
+so glad," it seemed to be saying, and two swallows skimmed backwards
+and forwards low down to the earth, gathering mud from a little pool
+by the pump.
+
+We sat down on the bench and looked out from under the fig-tree at the
+pure tranquil sky, full of gold light and just tinted with the first
+rosy flush of evening.
+
+There was complete silence save for the clear, gay, rippling song of
+the bird, and the deep peace of the scene seemed to fall upon us like
+an enchanted spell.
+
+Viola dropped her head on my shoulder with a sigh of contentment.
+
+"I am so happy, so content. I feel as glad as that little flycatcher.
+It has escaped from the sea and the storms and winds, and I've got
+away from London, its tiresome dinners and hot rooms and all the
+stupid men who want to marry one."
+
+I laughed and watched her face as it lay against me, and I saw her
+eyes half-closed as she gazed dreaming into the sunshine.
+
+Faint pink clouds sailed across the sky at intervals like downy
+feathers blown before a breeze; the flycatcher continued its
+chattering song to us, some bees hummed with a warm summer-like sound
+over the wall.
+
+An hour slipped by and seemed only like one golden moment. We heard a
+bell jangle from the direction of the house, and when I looked at my
+watch I saw it was time to dress for dinner.
+
+When we retraced our steps the whole garden was bathed in rosy light
+and the lilac stood out in it curiously and poured forth a wonderful,
+heavy fragrance as we passed.
+
+The voice of spring, that beautiful low whisper with its promise of
+summer and cloudless days was in all the air. Had we been married
+several years I do not think either Viola or I would have found Mrs.
+Jevons's cooking good nor praised the dinner that night; the
+attendance also might have been condemned. But as it was we were in
+that magic mirage of first days together and everything seemed
+perfect.
+
+When it was over we sought the outside again and sat watching the now
+paling rose of the sky being replaced by clear, tender green. A
+passion and rapture of song, the last evening song of the birds, was
+being poured out on the still dewy air all round us. One by one the
+songsters grew tired and ceased as a pale star grew visible here and
+there in the transparent sky, and complete silence fell on the garden.
+Only a bat flitted across it silently now and then, and the white
+night-moths came and played by us. I had my arm round her waist and I
+drew her close to me and looked down upon her through the dusky
+twilight.
+
+"Let us go, too, dearest, it is quite late."
+
+She looked up, the colour waving all over her face, and smiled back at
+me, and we went in and upstairs.
+
+When we reached our room, the window was wide open as we had left it
+and the room seemed full of soft violet gloom, heavy with fragrance of
+the lilac that shewed its pale mauve stars through the shadows.
+
+It was so beautiful, the effect of the deep summer twilight, that I
+told her not to light the candles.
+
+"Shew yourself to me in this wonderful mysterious half-light, nothing
+can be more beautiful."
+
+I sat down on the foot of the bed watching her, my heart beating,
+every pulse within me throbbing with delight.
+
+Viola did not answer. She did not light the candles, but with the
+rustle of falling silk and lace began her undressing.
+
+That night I could not sleep. The window stood open, and the room was
+filled with the soft mysterious twilight of the summer night with its
+thousand wandering perfumes, its tiny sounds of bats and whirring
+wings.
+
+The cherry bloom thrust its long, white, scented arms into the room. I
+lay looking towards the white square of the window wide-eyed and
+thinking.
+
+A strange elation possessed my brain. I felt happy with a clear
+consciousness of feeling happy. One can be happy unconsciously or
+consciously.
+
+The first state is like the sensation one has when lying in hot water:
+one is warm, but one hardly knows it, so accustomed to the embrace of
+the water has the body become.
+
+The other state of conscious happiness is like that of first entering
+the bath, when the skin is violently keenly alive to the heat of the
+water.
+
+Viola lay beside me motionless, wrapped in a soundless sleep like the
+sleep of exhaustion. Not the faintest sound of breathing came from her
+closed lips.
+
+The room was so light I could distinctly see the pale circle of her
+face and all the undulating lines of her fair hair beside me on the
+pillow.
+
+I felt the strange delight of ownership borne in upon me as it had
+never been yet.
+
+We had not dared to pass a night together at the studio.
+
+We had only had short afternoons and evenings, hours snatched here and
+there, over-clouded by fears of hearing a knock at the door, a
+footstep outside.
+
+But this deep solitude, these hours of the night when she _slept_
+beside me, all powers, all the armour of our intelligence that we wear
+in our waking moments, laid aside, seemed to give her to me more
+completely than she had ever given herself before.
+
+And gazing upon her in serene unconsciousness, I felt the intense joy
+of possession, a sort of madness of satisfaction vibrating through me,
+stamping that hour on my memory for ever.
+
+The next morning we came down late and enjoyed everything with that
+keen poignant sense of pleasure that novelty alone can give. To us
+coming from a stay of months in town the small sitting-room, the open
+casement window, the simple breakfast-table, the loud noise of birds'
+voices without, the green glow of the garden seemed delightful, almost
+wonderful.
+
+So curtains were really white! how strange it seemed. In town they are
+always grey or brown, and the air was light and thin with a sweet
+scent, and the sky was blue!!!
+
+It was a fine day, the sun poured down riotously through the
+snow-white bloom of the cherry-tree, two cuckoos were calling to each
+other from opposite sides of the wood, and their note, so soft in the
+distance, so powerful when near, resounded through the shining air
+till it seemed full of the sound of a great clanging bell, musical and
+beautiful.
+
+Viola was delighted; her keen ear enjoyed the unusual sound.
+
+"Oh, Trevor, that repeated note, how glorious it is! It reminds me of
+a sustained note in Wagner's _Festpiel_. I do wish they'd go on."
+
+She seated herself by the window listening with rapture in her eyes.
+The woman of the house brought in our coffee, but I doubt if we should
+have got any breakfast, only the cuckoos wanted theirs and fortunately
+flew off to get it.
+
+When the glorious musical bell rang out far on the other side of the
+wood, dimmed by distance, Viola came reluctantly to the table.
+
+"How delicious this is! this being in the country _just at first_.
+Look at the table with its jonquils! isn't it pretty? Look at the
+honey and cream!"
+
+"I think you had better eat some of it," I answered; "or at least pour
+out the coffee."
+
+Viola laughed and did so, and we breakfasted joyously, full of the
+curious gayety that belongs to novelty alone.
+
+Then we went out, and the outside was equally entrancing. The scent of
+the lilac seemed to hang like a canopy in the air under which we
+walked. There was a fat thrush on the lawn, young and tailless. The
+sight of him and the dappled marks on his white breast gave me a
+strange pleasure.
+
+We sat down on the turf finally where the cherry-tree cast a light
+shade, a sort of white shadow in the sunlight, from its blossoms.
+Viola thrust her hands down into the cool, green grass.
+
+"How lovely this is," she said, looking up the tall tree above us.
+"Look at its great tent of white blossoms against the blue sky; it's
+like a picture of Japan!"
+
+After a time, when we were tired of the garden, we went out and turned
+down the white road to explore the country.
+
+It was very hot, and the glare from the road excessive, but as it was
+all new to us it all seemed delightful, even to the white dust that
+coated our lips and got into our eyes whenever the breeze stirred.
+
+After about a mile and a half of walking we came to an oak wood. The
+road dipped suddenly between cool, green, mossy banks and lay in deep,
+grateful shade from the arching oaks above. I climbed the bank on one
+side and looked into the wood. It was very thick and wild, apparently
+rarely penetrated. Through the close-growing stems of the undergrowth
+I saw a bluebell carpet lying like inverted sky beneath the oaks.
+
+"The wood looks very attractive," I said as I rejoined Viola; "but we
+can't stay to go into it now. We haven't the time; it's half past
+twelve already."
+
+"I'm sorry," said Viola, looking wistfully at the green wood. "This is
+the nicest part; but I suppose we can't disappoint that woman by not
+getting back to luncheon."
+
+So we walked back slowly through the noonday sun, admiring the double
+pink May peeping out from the green hedges.
+
+When we came in just before lunch, she took the easy chair facing the
+window, and I sat down on one opposite and watched her. She was
+wearing a white cambric dress that looked very simple and girlish; she
+was smiling, and her face was delicately rose-coloured after the
+walk.
+
+A sense of responsibility came over me. She was my cousin, my own
+blood relation. I must protect her, must think for her if she would
+not think for herself.
+
+"You know it's risky being down here like this. You had much better
+come to some rustic church with me in another village and marry me
+there."
+
+"No. You know perfectly well I am not going to marry you," she said
+softly, looking up at me with a smile in her eyes, great pools of blue
+beneath their exquisitely arched lids.
+
+"It is ridiculous to suppose that you, an artist of twenty-eight, will
+want to keep faithful to one woman all the rest of your life--or her
+life. It would be very bad for you, if you did. One can't go against
+Nature, and Nature has not arranged things that way. Marriage is a
+pleasure perhaps; but Nature never arranged, marriage, and a man
+should not allow himself unnatural pleasures."
+
+She was really laughing now, but I knew her resolve was perfectly
+serious and I did not see how I could break it up.
+
+"Well, but some men do keep to one woman all their life and are none
+the worse for it; look at a country clergyman for instance."
+
+Viola raised her eyebrows with a laugh.
+
+"How can you be sure of the country clergyman? I expect he goes up to
+town sometimes.... However, of course I admit he is fairly faithful,
+but how about being none the worse for it? A country clergyman is
+about the most undeveloped creature you could have, and a great artist
+is the most developed, the nearest approach to a god of all human
+beings."
+
+I did not answer, but sat silent staring at her. She looked such a
+sweet little Saxon schoolgirl in her white dress, but with such
+tremendous character and power in those great shining eyes.
+
+"But if we marry now," I said at last, "and anything should ... should
+come between us, I don't see it would be any worse than...."
+
+"Than if we were living together without marriage," she put in
+quickly. "Yes, I think it would. Look here, if we marry now with a
+great blaze and fuss, and invite all our friends to see the event,
+which is great nonsense anyway, and then you see some other woman
+later you covet, it seems to me there are only three ways open to us:
+either you go without the woman and suffer very much in consequence
+and always owe me a grudge for standing in your way; or you take her
+and I have to profess to see nothing and look on quietly, which I
+could never stand, it would send me mad; or we must have all the
+trouble and worry and scandal of a divorce and call in the public to
+witness our quarrel; and why _should_ we have the public to interfere
+in our affairs?" she added, her eyes flashing. "What is it to them
+whom I love or whom I live with, whom I leave or quarrel with? These
+are all private matters."
+
+"And if we live together and the same thing happens?" I pursued
+quietly.
+
+"Why, then we should separate, only without any trouble, any
+publicity; we should fall apart naturally. If you preferred any one
+else, you must go to her; I should slip away out of your life, and we
+should each be free and untied."
+
+"If it's so much better for the man to change," I said smiling, "it
+must be the same for the woman."
+
+"So it is," rejoined Viola quickly; "the more men a woman has the more
+developed she is, the better for her morally, if there is no
+conventional disgrace attaching to it. Amongst the Greeks, Aspasia and
+all those women of her class were far more intellectual, more
+developed than the wives who were kept at home to spin and rear
+children."
+
+"All these things ought to be optional. If a woman loves one man so
+much she wants to stay with him for ever and ever, probably through
+such a great passion she reaches her highest development; but until
+she has found that man she ought to be allowed to go from one to
+another without any disgrace attaching to it. And, of course, just the
+same law holds good for the man."
+
+"Outsiders like the world and the law ought never to be allowed to
+interfere between a man and a woman. They never can know the right or
+the wrong of their relations to each other well enough to enable them
+to be judges. Nobody ever knows but the man and the woman themselves,
+and they ought to be left alone; what they do, whether in quarrelling
+or love, ought to be as private as the prayers one sends to Heaven."
+
+She paused, and through the window came the gay, loud, triumphant call
+of the cuckoo seeking its mate of an hour in the heart of the glad
+green wood.
+
+Viola listened with a look of delight.
+
+"How happy they are!" she said. And the note came again, instinct with
+love and joy.
+
+"How well Nature arranged everything, and how Man has spoiled it all!
+Fancy passion, the most subtle, evanescent, delicate, elusive
+emotion--and yet one so strong--fancy that being bound down by crabbed
+and crooked laws, being confined by wretched little conventions!"
+
+"But, anyway, we shall have to say we are married here."
+
+"Oh, say anything you like," rejoined Viola laughing; "saying doesn't
+do any harm."
+
+"Yes, but then we must fix some place where we've _been_ married and
+all that, do you see; we'd better go somewhere further off I think and
+stay away some time and come back married. I do feel very worried
+about it, Viola. I think it would be much simpler to do it than to
+lie about it."
+
+Viola jumped up and came over to me.
+
+"Dear Trevor, I am _so_ sorry you are worried, but really it will work
+out all right. We will go abroad somewhere from here, we might go to
+Rome, it's a lovely time of year, and then to Sicily, to Taormina, ...
+and we'll stay away a year and you finish the picture and I'll write
+an opera, and then we'll come back married to town in the season and
+we'll have _been_ married before we leave England of course, and then
+it will be a year ago, and I don't think anybody will bother about it
+much."
+
+I looked down upon her. She was so pretty and so dear to me: I must
+keep her, and if those were the only terms upon which she would stay
+with me I must accept them.
+
+The landlady came into the room at this minute followed by the maid to
+lay the luncheon; in the landlady's hand was a fat, black book which
+she presented diffidently to Viola.
+
+"It's the Visitors' book, ma'am," she said. "I thought you and the
+gentleman would like to write your names in it in case of any
+letters...."
+
+"Yes, very much," returned Viola promptly, with a little side smile at
+me, and sat down and wrote in it.
+
+When she had done so, she closed the book, and as the maid was in and
+out of the room during luncheon, it was not till it was finished and
+cleared away and we were alone that I asked her what she had written.
+
+"Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale; that's right, isn't it? I did not put Trevor
+for I always think 'make your lies short' is a good rule."
+
+"I thought you were such a truthful person," I said a little sadly.
+
+"So I am--to you, for instance, so I should be to any one who has the
+right to hear truth; but the world has no right, and I don't care what
+lies I tell it, it's such an inquisitive old bore!"
+
+I laughed. Viola always made you laugh when you felt you ought to be
+angry with her.
+
+"Come out now," I said, "let's enjoy this lovely afternoon. I should
+like to paint you under that tree," I added musingly, looking out on
+the tree in its white glory.
+
+"In your usual style?" she returned laughing. "I don't think you could
+here. Mrs. Jevons would turn me out as not being respectable; not even
+being Mrs. Lonsdale would save me."
+
+"You would make a lovely picture, even dressed," I returned, musing;
+"but then of course it would not sell for half the price."
+
+"Nothing is really snapped at but the nude. That lovely landscape I
+painted when I was young and foolish,--it took me two years to work
+it off, and the veriest little daub of an unclothed girl goes directly
+at a hundred guineas."
+
+"A great compliment to our natural charms," laughed Viola. "I am
+delighted personally at anything that is a note of protest against the
+tyranny of the dressmaker and fashion."
+
+"What shall we do?" I queried; "it's beautifully hot," I added
+persuasively.
+
+"I'll tell you: we will go into the oak wood; the oaks grow low and
+the ground and the land rise all round, no one can possibly see us
+without coming quite close; on that blue carpet you shall paint me
+lying asleep, we will call the picture 'The Soul of the Wood,' and you
+shall sell it for a thousand. Come along."
+
+So it was decided, and with one of her thick cloaks, that she could
+throw round her instantly if surprised, and my artist's pack we
+started for the wood.
+
+It was a hot golden day, the one day we should get of really fine
+weather in the whole English year, and when we reached the wood the
+light under the oak boughs was magnificent, a soft mellow glory
+falling down on the blue hyacinths which grew so closely together that
+it was as if a sea of vivid colour had invaded the dell or a great
+patch of the blue sky had fallen there.
+
+We had difficulty in getting into the wood as the undergrowth of
+young oak scrub made it almost impenetrable; it stood up straight, and
+the great, swaying, huge, spreading boughs of the old oaks above came
+down and rested on and amongst the young oaks, like a roof upon
+pillars, and the leaves of both intermingled till they were like green
+silk curtains hung from ceiling to floor. When we had finally pushed
+through almost on our hands and knees to the centre of the wood, the
+scrub grew less close, the carpet of blue was perfect, a circle of
+green shut us in, we were in a magic chamber, through the roof of
+which came floods of green and golden light.
+
+Viola cast aside the "tyranny of the dressmaker" and shook out her
+light hair. Then she threw herself on the hyacinth bed, looking
+upwards to the low arching roof. At that moment the call of the
+cuckoo, wild, entrancing, came overhead, and she raised her arms with
+a look of rapture as the slim grey bird dashed through the upper oak
+branches in pursuit of its mate. It was a perfect pose for the "Soul
+of the Wood," and I begged her to keep it while I rapidly caught the
+idea and sketched it in roughly in charcoal.
+
+Those happy sunlit hours in the wood, how fast they slipped away! I
+was absorbed in the work and completely happy in it, and Viola I
+believe was equally happy in the delight she knew she was giving me.
+
+We came back very hungry to our tea, and very pleased with ourselves,
+the sketch, and our successful afternoon.
+
+It was six o'clock, the light was mellowing, and a thrush singing with
+all its own wonderful passion and rapture on the lawn. The scent of
+the lilac, intensely sweet, came in at the window and filled the room.
+
+In the evening we went out and sat under the cherry-tree, watching the
+stars come out and gleam through its white bloom.
+
+"Sing me the Abendstern," murmured Viola, leaning her head against me.
+"I was a dutiful model all the afternoon, it's your turn to amuse me
+now."
+
+So I sang the Abendstern to her under the cherry-tree, and its white
+shadow enveloped us both, making her face look very beautiful under
+it; and when I had finished singing we kissed each other and agreed
+that the world was a very delightful place as long as there was
+Wagner's music in it, and cherry-trees to sit under, and white bloom
+and stars and lips to kiss.
+
+Between nine and ten, after a very countrified supper we went up to
+bed in the slanting-roofed room under the thatch, full still of the
+tender light of a spring evening.
+
+The next day was delicious, too, and the next, but on the fourth we
+were quite ready to go. We had drained the cup of joy which that
+particular place held for us and it had no more to offer. The
+cherry-tree pleased us still, but it did not give us the ecstatic
+thrill of the first view of it. The lilac scent streamed in, but it
+did not go to the head and intoxicate us as when we came straight from
+the air of Waterloo; the thrush gurgled as passionately on the deep
+green lawn, but the gurgle did not stir the blood. All was the same,
+only the strange spell of novelty was gone.
+
+Viola seemed so pleased to be leaving it quite hurt me. When I went
+upstairs I found her packing her little handbag with alacrity and
+singing.
+
+"Are you glad to be going?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," she said surprised; "are not you?"
+
+"But you have been happy here?" I said with a tone of remonstrance.
+
+"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed; "wildly, intensely happy! It's been four
+days' enchantment, but then it's gone now; we can't get any _more_ out
+of this place. We have enjoyed it so much we have drained it,
+exhausted it; like the bees, we must move on to a fresh flower."
+
+It was true that was all we could do, yet I looked round the bare
+attic-like room with regret. Could ever another give me more than that
+had done? Could there ever be a keener joy, a deeper delight than I
+had known in the shadows of that first violet night?
+
+
+
+
+PART THREE
+
+THE BLACK NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+IN MAYFAIR
+
+
+The spring of the next year found us installed in a small house in
+Mayfair, for the season.
+
+For a year we had been abroad; the summer in Italy, the winter in
+Egypt, and had come back with our eyes full of colour, armed against
+the deadly greyness of England for three months at least.
+
+We had travelled as Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale, we came back as Mr. and
+Mrs. Lonsdale. There had been no difficulty so far. Every one seemed
+satisfied, and what was far more important, so were we.
+
+The whole top floor of the Mayfair house was my studio, and made a
+fairly large and convenient one. We kept on the old studio as a matter
+of sentiment, but rarely went there now.
+
+The "Phryne" and the "Soul of the Wood" had been finished and accepted
+for exhibition. Both were sold, the "Phryne" for five thousand pounds,
+the "Soul of the Wood" for four thousand, and I had brought from
+abroad many unfinished sketches and partly finished pictures.
+
+In all this time we had lived very close to each other: Viola had been
+my only model against an ever-varied background. Not the faintest
+shadow had flecked the sunshine of our passion for each other. Viola
+had written her operetta, and it had been taken for a London theatre.
+A Captain Lawton had written the libretto under the title of the "Lily
+of Canton." The music was weird and charming, suited to the strange
+Chinese story and scenery. It was to be produced in May, and Viola
+always spoke of the first night with excited joy.
+
+It had been a full, rich year. Like bees, as Viola had said, we had
+gone from flower to flower, draining the honey from each new blossom
+and passing on. New places, new skies, new scenes had all in turn
+contributed to our pleasure and given us inspiration which took form
+again in our art.
+
+The vivid desert backgrounds, the light-filled skies of Upper Egypt
+crept into my pictures, the cry of impassioned Eastern music in the
+forbidden dancing-dens of Keneh stole into Viola's refrains.
+
+On that sunny afternoon in April, as we took tea in our tiny and
+gimcrack drawing-room together, Viola and I felt in the best of
+spirits.
+
+"Captain Lawton and Mr. and Mrs. Dixon are coming in to dinner
+to-night," Viola remarked. "Lawton tells me he saw the manager
+yesterday, and the piece seems getting on all right."
+
+"I am very glad," I answered. "Do you know, Viola, a Roman girl called
+here this morning, and wanted me to take her on as a model. She's
+very good. I think I'd better secure her, if ... if...."
+
+"If what...?" asked Viola smiling.
+
+"Well, if you don't mind," I answered, colouring.
+
+"Mind? I? No, dearest Trevor. Of course not. You must want a new model
+by now. Do engage her by all means. Is she good altogether?"
+
+"I don't know. I have only seen her face yet. That's very lovely.
+Veronica she calls herself. I thought, anyway, she would do splendidly
+for the head."
+
+"What a piece of good luck she should come now. You were just wanting
+a model for your Roman Forum picture," returned Viola. And then the
+matter dropped, for some women came in to tea and broke off the
+conversation.
+
+At eleven o'clock the next morning I was in my studio, awaiting
+Veronica. I was pleased, interested, elated. The girl was really
+beautiful, and the sight of beauty exhilarates and animates like wine.
+
+She was very punctual and came confidently into the room as the clock
+struck. The cold morning light through a north window fell upon her
+and instead of the light warming the face as so often happens, her
+face seemed to warm the light. She was about sixteen, with a skin of
+velvet, dark, quite dark, but clear as wine, and with a wonderful red
+flush glowing through the cheek; the eyes were brilliant, brown to
+blackness, but full of fire and lustre; her hair, dark as midnight,
+clustered and fell about her face in soft curls. The nose was dainty,
+refined, with perfect nostrils, the mouth deepest red and curved with
+the most tender, seducing lines. I had never seen such a face. The
+beauty of it was glorious, to an artist awe-inspiring.
+
+I stood gazing at her, delighted, spellbound, and the young person
+keenly observed my admiration. She smiled, revealing true Italian
+teeth, exquisite, white, and perfect.
+
+"I am Veronica Bernandini," she said. "I have two hours to spare in
+the morning and three in the afternoon."
+
+My first thought was not to let any other artist have her; not till I
+had painted her at any rate and startled London with her face.
+
+"Are you sitting to any one else?" I asked mechanically.
+
+"No. I give the rest of my time to my family. We are very poor. My
+mother and father are old. I am their sole support."
+
+I waved my hand impatiently. All models tell you that. One gets so
+tired of it.
+
+"What do you want an hour? I will take all your time. You must not sit
+to any one else."
+
+Her eyes gleamed, and the lovely crimson mouth pouted.
+
+"Five shillings an hour if you take the five hours a day," she
+answered.
+
+"I suppose you know that's double the ordinary price?" I said smiling.
+"However, I don't mind. I'll pay you if I find you sit well. Take off
+your hat now and sit down--anywhere. I want just to make a rough
+sketch of your head."
+
+She obeyed, and I drew out some large paper sheets and found a piece
+of charcoal. Sitting down opposite her, I gazed at her meditatively.
+Now that her hat had been removed I could see the extraordinary wealth
+and beauty of her hair. It was black with lights of red and gold fire
+in it, and fell in its own natural waves and curls and clusters all
+about her small head and smooth white forehead.
+
+What about a Bacchante? She was a perfect study for that. I always
+imagined--perhaps from seeing antiques, where it is so represented,
+that the head of a Bacchante should have hair like this; and it is
+rare enough in English models. Suppose I made a large picture--The
+Death of Pentheus--the king in Euripides' tragedy of the Bacchæ who in
+his efforts to put down the Bacchanalia was slain by the enraged
+Bacchantes. Suppose I put this one in the foreground.... But then it
+seemed a pity to spoil such a lovely face with a look of rage....
+Well, anyway, let me have a sketch first, and see what inspiration
+came to me. I got up and looked amongst my odd possessions for a
+vine-leaf wreath I had. When I found it and some ivy leaves, I came
+back to her and fastened them round her head, in and out of those
+wonderful vine-like tendrils of hair. She sat demurely enough and very
+still while I did so, but when I wanted to unfasten the ugly modern
+bodice and turn it down from her throat so as to get the head well
+poised and free, she pressed her lips on my hand as it passed round
+her neck.
+
+I drew my hand away.
+
+"Don't be silly, or I shan't employ you," I said with some annoyance.
+
+She pushed out her crimson lips.
+
+"You are too handsome to be an artist; they are mostly such guys."
+
+"Hush, be quiet now, be still," I said, moving back from her to see if
+I had the effect I wanted. I felt with a sudden rush of delight I had.
+The face was just perfect now: the head a little inclined, the leaves
+in the glossy hair, no more exact image of the idea the word Bacchante
+always formed in my mind could be imagined.
+
+I sketched her head in rapidly. I made two or three draughts of it in
+charcoal, then I got my colours and did a rough study of it in colour.
+Her neck, like that of almost all Italians, was a shade too short, but
+round and lovely in shape and colour. The time passed unnoticed, and
+it was only when the luncheon gong sounded I realised how long I had
+been at work.
+
+I sprang up and gathered the sheets of paper together.
+
+"That's all now," I said. "I'll take you again three to six. Are you
+tired?" I added, as she got up rather slowly and took up her hat.
+
+"No," she answered, shaking her head. "All that was sitting down;
+that's easy."
+
+Her voice sounded flat, but I was too hurried to take much notice of
+it. I wanted to get down to show Viola the work.
+
+"Well, three o'clock then," I repeated, and ran downstairs.
+
+Viola was waiting in the dining-room, but not at the table. I went
+over to the window where she was standing, and showed her the
+sketches.
+
+"Oh, Trevor, how lovely; how perfectly beautiful!" she exclaimed,
+gazing at the charcoal head.
+
+"You have done that well, and what a glorious face!"
+
+I flushed with pleasure.
+
+"I'm so glad you like it. Come up this afternoon and see the model,
+see me work. Say you're out, and let's have tea in the studio."
+
+"Very well," she answered as the luncheon came in; "I'll say we want
+tea up there. What a good idea to make her a Bacchante; it's the very
+face for it."
+
+"Suppose I took her as a Bacchante dancing, the whole figure I mean,
+nude, under a canopy of vine leaves, make all the background,
+everything, green vines with clusters of purple grapes, and then have
+her dancing down the sort of avenue towards the foreground, with the
+light pouring down through the leaves. How do you think that would
+be?"
+
+"I should think it would be lovely," Viola answered slowly, with a
+little sigh.
+
+I looked across at her quickly.
+
+"You would like to be my only model for the body?" I said gently,
+keeping my eyes on her face.
+
+"No, Trevor, I really don't want to be selfish, and I do think you
+should have another, only...."
+
+"Yes, only...?"
+
+"Well, when a woman is in love she does so long to be able to assume
+all sorts of different forms, to be different women, so as to always
+please and amuse and satisfy the man she loves. How delightful it
+would be if one could change! One can be pretty, one can be amiable,
+clever, charming, anything, but one cannot be different from oneself;
+one must be the same, one can't get away from that."
+
+I laughed.
+
+"I don't want you to be different. I should be overwhelmed if you
+suddenly changed into some one else! And whatever models I have, you
+will always be the best. There could not be another such perfect
+figure as yours."
+
+Viola smiled, but an absent look came into her face.
+
+After luncheon we both went up to the studio together, and Viola was
+ensconced in my armchair when Veronica's knock came on the door.
+
+I said, "Come in," and she entered with the confident air of the
+morning. Directly she saw Viola, however, she seemed to stiffen with
+resentment, and stood still by the door.
+
+"Come in," I repeated, "and shut the door."
+
+Viola looked at her kindly and laid down the charcoal sketch in her
+lap.
+
+"I have been looking at your head here and thinking it so beautiful,"
+she said gently.
+
+Veronica only stared at her a little ungraciously in return, and took
+off her hat in silence.
+
+I put her back into position, re-arranged the fillet on her head, and
+set to work to complete the colour study.
+
+We worked in unbroken silence till tea was brought up at four. Viola
+rose to make it, and I told the girl to get up and move about if she
+liked, and I set the canvas aside to dry. Viola offered the girl a cup
+of tea, but she refused it and went and sat under the window on an old
+couch, leaving us by the table.
+
+The canvas was a success in a way so far, but the great sweetness of
+the expression in the charcoal sketch of the morning was not there.
+
+When tea was over I went up to Veronica and told her I must leave the
+canvas of the head to dry, I could not work more on it then, and asked
+her if she would pose for me as the Bacchante dancing. I wanted to see
+if she would do for a larger picture.
+
+I got no answer for a minute. Veronica looked down and began to pull
+at the faded fringe of an old cushion.
+
+At last I repeated my question.
+
+"Not while _she's_ here," she muttered in a low, fierce tone.
+
+I was surprised at the resentment in look and voice.
+
+"Nonsense," I said with some annoyance. "You can pose before her as
+well as before me."
+
+Veronica did not answer, only pulled in sullen silence at the cushion.
+
+"You are wasting my time," I said impatiently.
+
+Veronica looked through the window.
+
+"I shan't take off my clothes before her," she muttered defiantly.
+
+I turned away from her in annoyance and approached Viola who had not
+moved from her chair on the other side of the room. She sprang up and
+came to meet me.
+
+"She objects to my being here?" she said quickly. "Is it bothering
+you? Because, if it is, I'll go; that'll settle it."
+
+"It's awfully stupid. I'm so sorry, Viola; it's so idiotic of her."
+
+Viola smiled brightly up at me.
+
+"Never mind, I'll go. You'll be down soon, now."
+
+I held the door open for her, and with a smiling nod at me she passed
+through and went down the stairs. I waited till her bright head had
+disappeared, and then closed the door and went back to Veronica.
+
+"Now," I said, "Mrs. Lonsdale has left us. Will you get up and stand
+as I want you to? Or do you want me to dismiss you?"
+
+I felt extremely angry and annoyed. My heart beat violently. Viola had
+come there by my invitation, she had deprived herself of any possible
+society for the afternoon, and now had been practically turned out by
+this impertinent little model.
+
+Veronica got sulkily up from the couch and began to undress in
+silence.
+
+I walked away and flung myself into the armchair Viola had vacated,
+and picked up the charcoal sketch.
+
+How sweet the face was in that! And yet what an awful little devil the
+girl on the couch had looked.
+
+I was so accustomed to Viola's unfailing either good temper or
+self-command, that I was beginning to forget women had bad tempers as
+well as men.
+
+After a minute or two Veronica came over to me; she had let her hair
+down, and it fell prettily on her shoulders. I laid down the charcoal
+sketches and looked at her critically as she approached.
+
+Her figure had all the beauty of great plumpness and youthfulness.
+Every contour was round and full, and yet firm. Her body was beautiful
+in the sense that all healthy, sound, young, well-formed things are,
+but there was, as it were, no soul in the beauty, nothing transcendent
+in any of the lines or in the colour. It was something essentially of
+earth, un-dreamlike, appealing to the senses, and to them alone.
+
+I was struck with the great contrast it presented to the form of
+Viola, which was so wonderfully ethereal, so divine in colour and
+design. Every line in it was long and tapering, never coming to a
+sudden stop, but merging with infinite grace into the next, and the
+dazzling, immaculate whiteness of it all made it seem like something
+of heaven. It suggested the vision, the ideal, all that man longs
+after with his soul, that stirs the celestial fires within his brain,
+not merely the flame of the senses.
+
+In the form before me, the lines were short and often abrupt, the
+curves quick and expressionless; it would do capitally for the
+"Bacchante," it would not have served for a moment for the "Soul of
+the Wood."
+
+The girl was smiling now, and appeared quite amiable. Most people are
+when they have got their own way. She asked me if I thought she would
+do.
+
+"Yes, I think you will. Stand back there, please, against that green
+curtain. Now put one foot forward as if you were advancing. Yes,
+that's right; lift both your arms up over your head."
+
+I got up to give her a hoop of wire to hold as an arch over her, and
+put a spray of artificial ivy over it.
+
+"That'll do. Now stand still, and let's see how that works out."
+
+The girl posed well. Evidently she was a model of considerable
+practice, and I obtained an excellent sketch before a quarter to six,
+when she said she must leave off and dress.
+
+She did so in silence, while I studied my own work. When she had her
+hat on I looked up and asked her if she wanted to be paid.
+
+"No," she answered, "we'll leave it till the end of the week.
+Good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye," I said, and she went out. I laid the sketch on the table
+beside me, and sat thinking. A sudden blankness fell upon me as I
+stood mentally opposite this new idea that had never presented itself
+to me in the same form before, that in my former easy, wandering
+existence I had always welcomed a beautiful model, not only for the
+gain to my art, but because of the incidental pleasure it might bring
+me. But now I realised suddenly that this girl's beauty brought me no
+elation. _It was not any use_, and in a flash I saw, too, that no
+woman now, no beauty could be any use to me ever any more, for I was
+not a single irresponsible existence any longer, but involved with
+another which was sacred to me.
+
+How often in the past, when entangled in some light _liaison_, I had
+wished for deeper, stronger emotions, something to wake the mind and
+stir the soul! Then in my love for Viola I had found all these and
+welcomed them madly. She had stirred my whole sleeping being into
+flame, and given me those keener and stronger desires of the brain,
+and satisfied them; and till now it had seemed to me that this passion
+for her was a free gift from the hands of Fate. Now, suddenly, I saw
+that the gift had its price. That, after all, there was something to
+be said for those light free loves of the past. That some joy had been
+taken out of life, now those glittering trifles, toys of the senses,
+were taken from me, made impossible.
+
+For the first time I realised that a great passion has its yoke, and
+that, in return for the great joy it gives, it demands and takes one's
+freedom.
+
+I sat motionless, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden blaze of light
+that the simple incident of this model's advent had thrown on an
+obscure psychological fact.
+
+I saw now that my love for Viola was not wholly a gain, not something
+extra added to my life's-cup that made it full to overflowing, but, as
+always in this life, something had been taken away as well as added.
+
+I felt as a child might feel who was presented with a magnificent gift
+with which he was overjoyed, but who on taking it to the nursery to
+add to his other treasures, saw his nurse locking these all away from
+him for ever in a glass case above his reach.
+
+As the child might, I hugged my new gift to me and delighted in it,
+but I could not help feeling regret for those other small, glittering
+toys with which I had formerly played so much, now shut away behind
+the deadly glass pane of conscience.
+
+It was not that Veronica appealed to me specially. I did not feel I
+cared whether she came to the studio again or not except for the
+picture, but the great principle involved, now that I was face to face
+with it, appalled me.
+
+Viola had sought to leave me free, by refusing marriage with me; but,
+after all, what difference does the mere nominal tie make?
+
+The essential attribute of a great passion--something that cannot be
+eliminated from it--is the chain of fidelity it forges round its
+prisoners.
+
+I do not know how long I sat there, but at last I rose mechanically,
+put the sheets of paper together, and went downstairs.
+
+As I came to the drawing-room door I heard that Viola was playing.
+The door stood ajar, and silently I entered and took my seat behind
+her. She was improvising, just playing as the inspiration came to her,
+and wholly absorbed and unconscious of my presence. There was a great
+glass facing her, in which her whole image was reflected, and had she
+glanced into it she must have seen me; but she did not. Her eyes gazed
+out before her, wrapt, delighted; her face was quite white, her lips
+parted in a little smile.
+
+I saw she was under the influence of her music and absolutely happy,
+full of joy, such as I could never give her. A great jealousy ran
+through me, kindling all that passion I had for her. The thoughts and
+reflections of an hour back seemed swept out of mind like dead leaves
+before a storm. No other lighter loves could give me one-tenth of the
+emotion that the pursuit and conquest of this strange soul could do.
+For I had not conquered it. It was absorbed in, and lived in mysteries
+of joy that its art alone could give it, and I was outside--almost a
+stranger to it.
+
+The thought burnt and stung me, and the fire of it wrapped round me as
+I sat watching her. That body, so slim, so perfect, she had given me,
+but I wanted more, I wanted that inner spirit to be mine, I wanted to
+conquer that.
+
+I watched her in a fierce, jealous anger, almost as I might have done
+seeing her caressed by another lover, she was so wonderfully happy, so
+independent of me, so unconscious of me; but man loves that which is
+above him, difficult to obtain, hard to pursue. We cannot help it. We
+are made to be hunters, and I felt I loved Viola then with fresh
+passion.
+
+Some time or other I would succeed in breaking through that charmed
+circle in which she lived, in making her yield up to me the spiritual
+maidenhood which, as it were, was hers.
+
+I would be first and last and everything to her, and not even her art
+should count beside me.
+
+I closed my eyes and put my head back on the couch where I was sitting
+and gave myself up to listening to the music.
+
+How the instrument answered her! What a divine melody rose from it,
+floating gently on the air like quivering wings.
+
+Then suddenly came a storm of passion, and the room was filled with a
+tempest of sound, while one strong thread of melody low down in the
+bass ran through it all and seemed a fierce reproach of one in
+anguish. At last one sheet of sound seemed to sweep the piano from end
+to end, a cry of dismay, of pain, the woe and grief of one who sees
+his world shattered suddenly before his eyes; then there was silence.
+I sprang up and clasped her in my arms.
+
+"Trevor," she exclaimed, like one awakening from a dream; "I had no
+idea you were there."
+
+"No," I said savagely; "you were so absorbed, you never noticed me
+come in."
+
+"Well, I heard the model go, and I waited and waited for you to come
+down; but you were so long I turned to the piano to console me."
+
+"Which it did quite well, apparently," I answered.
+
+A sweet, tender look came over her face, and she stretched out her
+arms to me.
+
+"Nothing could wholly console me for your absence," she said; "and you
+know that quite well; but the music always helps me to bear it."
+
+I drew her to me and strained her close up to me in silence, longing
+to conquer, to come into union with that mysterious inner something we
+call the Soul.
+
+Yet in this unconquerable quality, in this pursuit of that which
+always escapes from our most passionate embraces, man finds an
+inexhaustible delight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+FREEDOM
+
+
+The weeks slipped by, and I worked hard at the painting, while Viola
+gave herself up to the music and all the work that the approaching
+production of her opera gave her. Our evenings were always spent
+together. We set aside two evenings in the week for our friends,
+giving only small dinners of eight or ten. On the other evenings when
+we were not dining out ourselves we went to the opera, and supper
+after.
+
+I often wondered whether there was anything or nothing in the fact
+that we were not married to each other, which affected our feelings
+and relations to each other. Does that conventional bond make some
+subtle difference, just by its existence; and did that account for the
+fact that we seemed to find a greater delight in each other's society,
+a greater need of each other than the average husband and wife do; or
+was it only because we happened to be two who had met and really loved
+more than most people do, and had we been married, we should have felt
+the same?
+
+Certainly we were looked upon as peculiar because, being married, we
+were so much together.
+
+The true explanation is perhaps that, as a rule, the people who love
+do not marry, and those who marry do not love.
+
+Coming home from our supper after the opera, I felt the same
+passionate delight in Viola as that first evening when I had driven
+her to my studio. Waking in the dawn to find her sleeping on my arm, I
+had the same joyous elation as I had known under the thatched roof,
+during our first stay together. Unfortunately, however, a great
+passion for one object does not necessarily exclude lesser passions,
+or, rather, passing fancies of the senses for other objects. It is
+generally supposed that it does, but my experience is rather to the
+contrary.
+
+With women possibly it may do so oftener than with men, but extreme
+constancy, absolute exclusiveness is not the natural product of a
+great passion. It is a question rather of sentiment and artificial
+restraint.
+
+Nature is not on the side of sentiment. She is always a prodigal, with
+the one great aim before her of ensuring the continuance of the race.
+
+Consequently, when a man is already loving one object with all his
+force, it is not Nature's plan to make him turn from all others by
+instinct. No, she is ever ready with others, ever rather prompting
+him, leading him towards others, in order that, should accident or
+death remove his first mate, others should not be wanting, and her
+great scheme should not be spoiled nor interrupted.
+
+Nature is always on a grand scale, always acting in and for the
+plural, never for the singular.
+
+Does she want one oak to survive, she throws on the ground a million
+acorns for that purpose.
+
+Man she has fitted to love not one, but hundreds, and our senses act
+automatically and are always on the side of Nature. It is the mind
+alone that man has taught to act against her, and that demands and
+gives fidelity in love.
+
+A woman's attitude towards a second lover, when she is deeply in love
+with the first, is not so often "I don't want him," as "It would
+grieve my first lover, therefore I will not take him."
+
+A man, when offered a second mistress, usually thinks "I will take
+her, but I mustn't let the first one know." In both it is the anxiety
+of Nature that neither should be left mateless, part of her tremendous
+scheme of insurance against mischance.
+
+And all this great love and passion which I had for Viola, passion
+which exhausted me almost to the point sometimes of being unable to
+work, did not seal my senses against the beauty of Veronica--beauty I
+painted daily in the studio.
+
+I used to enjoy the afternoon spent there now with a different
+pleasure from that of work merely. The sensuous attraction had become
+very great, and I was beginning to feel it was not innocent and to
+half-long for, half-dread an interruption, something to break through
+it, end it.
+
+Veronica professed to have fallen in love with me. It is rather a
+trick of models to do this. They think it can do no harm, and possibly
+extra benefits to themselves may accrue. Perhaps she was in love with
+me, if a mere covetousness of the senses can be called love. This she
+had, and from the first she had determined to subdue me. Her ruse of
+the first day had succeeded. Viola had never again come to the studio
+while she was there, and so hour after hour we were alone together
+undisturbed. I kept hard at work the whole time, hardly exchanging a
+word with her, and would go downstairs for tea with Viola; but she
+employed her eyes continually to tell her story, and caught my hand
+and kissed it whenever she was able.
+
+Just at first I felt only amusement and annoyance. Then gradually I
+used to expect the soft look to come into the beautiful eyes, the
+touch of the warm lips on my hand began to stir and thrill me. I felt
+a vague dislike and distrust of the girl mentally, I thought she was
+vain, selfish, mercenary, revengeful, and bad-tempered, but with all
+that Nature had nothing to do. Her servants, the senses, submitted to
+the youth and beauty of the newcomer, and that was all Nature cared
+about.
+
+One afternoon she was posing as usual, and I was painting, deeply
+absorbed, on the picture of the "Bacchante" when her voice suddenly
+disturbed me.
+
+"May I move just for a minute?"
+
+"Certainly," I exclaimed, looking up and laying down my brush.
+
+The girl laid down her spray of ivy-leaves, walked across the space
+intervening between us, and, before I was aware of her intention,
+threw her arms round my neck and kissed me.
+
+The kiss seemed to burn my lips, but with the current of passion I
+also felt a storm of anger against her. I sprang up and seized her
+shoulders, pushing her away from me.
+
+"Don't, Trevor, don't, you are hurting me; you are hurting my
+shoulders," she exclaimed, the tears starting to her eyes.
+
+I took my hands from her arms, and saw my grasp had left deep marks of
+crimson on them.
+
+"Go and get dressed then, and go," I said furiously; "I'm not going to
+paint any more." I pushed my chair away and threw the palette and
+brushes on to the table near.
+
+Veronica shrank from me and turned pale. In that moment the intense
+beauty of the face and figure was borne in upon me, she clung as if
+for support to the easel with one soft hand, all the youthful body
+seemed to shrink together in a beautiful dismay, great tears rolled
+down the cheeks from the dark reproachful eyes. I saw it all for one
+moment, feeling the anger sinking down under that strange influence
+that beauty has upon us. But I would not look at her. I turned my back
+on her and went over to the window, hardly conscious of what I did. I
+stood there for a few moments; then, suddenly, there came a cry and
+the sound of a fall behind me. I looked round and saw her lying, a
+little crushed heap, by the couch where she usually dressed.
+
+I sprang forward, full of self-reproach. How foolish I had been! So
+unnecessarily harsh! I went to her. In obedience to my order, she had
+put some of her clothes on, and now lay there senseless apparently and
+quite white, her arms, still bare, stretched out on the floor beside
+her. She looked so pretty, so small, round, and helpless, that my
+heart went out to her. I felt I had been such a brute. As I stooped
+over her to raise her I saw the great crimson bruises I had left on
+her arms.
+
+I picked her up and put her on the couch. She lay there quite still,
+pale, her eyes closed, unconscious.
+
+I pushed the hair off her forehead, and, dipping my handkerchief into
+a glass of water on the table, pressed it on to her head. I was
+kneeling by the couch. The sweet, little, rounded face, the soft
+unconscious body lay just beneath my eyes.
+
+She opened her eyes slowly:
+
+"Trevor, do forgive me," she whispered, and smiled up at me just a
+little, opening the curved lips; "do say you forgive me, give me one
+kiss."
+
+In the violent reaction of feeling, in the torrent of self-reproach
+for being so hard on a child like this, the senses conquered, I put my
+head down, and kissed her passionately, far more passionately from
+that great reaction of preceding anger, on her lips.
+
+"Dear, dear little girl, are you better?"
+
+She threw her arms round me.
+
+"Oh, Trevor, I do love you so, I do love you, I do love you."
+
+Full of that great delight, so transient, so baseless, so unreasoning,
+yet so great, which the senses give us, of that passion in which the
+mind has no part, that passes over us as the wind ruffles the surface
+of the lake without moving the depths below, I kissed her over and
+over again, and pressed her to me, soft shoulders and undone hair and
+wounded arms.
+
+The next moment the vision of Viola came before my brain, and I rose
+to my feet. Veronica caught at my hand, and, raising it to her lips,
+kissed it in a tempest of passion. I drew it away--
+
+"Get up and finish your dressing," I said very gently. "This sort of
+thing can do you no good, Veronica. It will only mean that I cannot
+let you come to the studio at all."
+
+Veronica rose from the couch obediently and resumed her dressing. She
+gave me somehow the impression she was satisfied at having broken down
+my self-control, and hoped to win me over further by extreme docility.
+I walked away to the window, angry with myself, and yet angry again
+that that anger should be necessary. I had always been so free till
+now, able to gratify the fancy of the moment. This need for
+self-restraint was new and irritating.
+
+Veronica came up to me when she was dressed, and asked for a parting
+kiss. I gave it, and she went away with a demure and sad little sigh.
+
+When I came down from the studio I went at once to our bedroom to
+dress. We were dining early and going out after, and I knew I had not
+much time. Viola was not there; she had dressed evidently and gone
+down. Sometimes she would be sitting in the armchair at the foot of
+the bed waiting for me, but to-night she had gone down.
+
+I walked about the room, quickly collecting my evening things and
+thinking. Why did I, now that I had left Veronica, feel self-reproach
+and regret at what had passed? What was a kiss? It was ridiculous to
+think of it twice.
+
+I ran downstairs and found Viola as I had expected in the
+drawing-room. In her white dinner-gown and with a few violet pansies
+at her breast, she looked, I thought, particularly charming. She
+smiled as I came in, but when I approached to kiss her as was usual
+between us after the shortest absences, she got up, almost started up
+and moved away from me.
+
+"Don't kiss me! I am so afraid you will crush my flowers."
+
+I stopped disconcerted; she coloured slightly and took a chair further
+from me, I flung myself into one close to me.
+
+It was so unlike Viola to resist any advance of mine, and on such a
+score, that it astonished me. Often and often I had hesitated when she
+had been in some of her magnificent toilettes to clasp her to me for
+fear of disturbing the wonderful creations, and had been laughingly
+derided for so doing.
+
+"Your kiss is worth a dozen dresses," she would say, and crush me to
+her in spite of whatever laces or jewels might lie between; and such
+words had been very dear to me.
+
+This phrase now, usual with many women, unheard before from her,
+struck me. The blood rushed to my head for a moment as the thought
+came--she have seen or heard in any possible way the scene in the
+studio? and then I dismissed it as quite impossible. It was
+coincidence, merely that. She could know nothing. Then, staring away
+from her into the little fire, I thought suddenly--"Is not this the
+most despicable, the worst part of all infidelity, this deceit it
+must bring with it? The lies, either spoken or tacit, to which it
+gives birth?"
+
+There were only a few moments and then the bell called us to dinner.
+
+Viola was just as sweet and charming as usual through the meal and
+after, both during the theatre party to which we went, and when we
+were driving home together.
+
+The next morning when we were at breakfast alone she said in a very
+earnest tone:
+
+"Trevor, you will be careful about that model of yours, won't you?"
+
+I raised my eyebrows.
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Don't let her draw you into anything you don't really want to do. Be
+a little on your guard with her. You know how detestable some women
+can be. They try to make men compromise themselves, and then worry
+them afterwards."
+
+"I should think I ought to be able to take care of myself," I replied.
+Of course I was annoyed, and showed it.
+
+"Well," said Viola, getting up from the table, "it is difficult when a
+girl is as beautiful as that and you are shut up for hours alone with
+her. When do you think the picture will be finished?"
+
+"I don't know at all," I said, feeling more and more annoyed. "I
+shall probably keep her on for another after it."
+
+This was a pure invention of my anger at the moment, for I had fully
+resolved last night to get rid of Veronica and as soon as possible,
+and never see her again; but I objected to what seemed to me
+interference.
+
+Viola turned paler almost than the cloth before us.
+
+"Do you really wish to do so?" she asked.
+
+"Yes," I said coldly. "Have you any objection?"
+
+"Yes, I think it would be a great pity," she replied quietly. "You
+will get so drawn to her, so interested in her, it will come between
+us."
+
+I looked at her in amaze and anger. Was this all coincidence? It must
+be. How could she possibly know what had occurred?
+
+We are nearly all of us beasts to women when they appeal to us. Had
+the position been reversed and had I been speaking to Viola as she was
+to me, she would have been all sweetness, accepting my jealous anxiety
+as a compliment, recognising how sure a sign of passion it is.
+
+"All this seems very childish and silly," I answered. "Veronica is
+nothing to me but a model and will never be anything than that. I
+shall keep her as long as I want her, and dismiss her when I choose. I
+don't want to discuss the matter again with you."
+
+Viola waited till I had finished speaking, then when I ceased, she
+inclined her head and went out, shutting the door noiselessly behind
+her.
+
+In that moment even of anger against her, a great throb of admiration
+beat through me. Her attitude as she waited by the door, one hand
+clasping the handle, her face turned towards me, was so perfect, the
+acquiescence so graceful and dignified; but it was only for a moment,
+the anger closed over the impulse of love again, and I walked up and
+down the room full of resentment.
+
+"Why should one," I muttered, "just because one loves one woman, never
+be supposed to kiss another, why should there be all this hateful,
+jealous tyranny? It is better to be free, as one is as a bachelor, and
+do what one likes, just take everything as it comes along."
+
+Then it recurred to me suddenly that I was not married, not tied in
+any way, I was free, and the remembrance came, too, why it was
+so--that Viola herself had refused to take my freedom from me.
+
+"Then when I use it to amuse myself for an hour or two this is the
+result," I thought stormily, trying to keep angry with Viola. "It's as
+bad as being married."
+
+I tried to feel Viola was quite in the wrong, a tiresome,
+unreasonable, jealous person; but irresistibly my thoughts modified
+themselves, sobered by that sudden recollection that I was not bound
+to her nor she to me. Perhaps I should not have to complain of her
+tyranny very long. Waves of memory rolled over me against my will,
+memories of the wonderful passion that existed between us, something
+that went down to the roots of my being, that shook me to the very
+depths, as different as the day from the night from my passing fancy
+for Veronica's beauty. My mind went back to the first night at the
+studio; I had never felt anything for any other woman that could
+approach my feelings for her. She was so different from all the
+others. I had known a good many, and they all seemed very much alike,
+but Viola stood alone amongst them.
+
+After a few minutes' more reflection, I went to look for her. I
+thought I would try to soften the effect of my last words to her, but
+I could not find her, and full of a sense of dissatisfaction, I went
+on at last upstairs to the studio.
+
+When Veronica came into the room I realised the full extent of my
+folly the previous afternoon. Hitherto her manner had been respectful
+and demure enough on the surface, though always with a suggestion of
+veiled insolent self-confidence. Now the veil was thrown off, she was
+assured of herself, and showed it.
+
+She came up to me, kissed me as a matter of course, and when I barely
+returned the kiss, she laughed openly and said coolly.
+
+"What's the matter, Trevor? Viola been lecturing you?"
+
+To hear her use Viola's name seemed to freeze me.
+
+"Be quiet," I said sharply.
+
+The girl merely made a grimace and began to take off her hat and let
+down her hair.
+
+The morning passed dully. I did not paint well. The impersonal state
+of mind in which alone good artistic work can be produced was not with
+me.
+
+When I went down to luncheon I found Viola looking very pale and ill.
+This made me feel cross. Ill-health very rarely excites pity or
+sympathy in men, but nearly always a feeling of vexation and
+annoyance. "Why should she worry herself?" I asked myself angrily,
+"when there was nothing to worry about."
+
+She had generally a very warm pink colour glowing in her face, which
+disappeared if anything worried or grieved her. It was gone now, and I
+knew it was my words of the morning that had driven it away.
+
+"I looked for you this morning before I went up to paint," I said;
+"but couldn't find you."
+
+"I am so sorry," she answered with a quick smile. "What did you want
+me for?"
+
+"To tell you you needn't worry about Veronica. She is absolutely
+nothing to me."
+
+"Then, if she is, why will you not send her away, or at least when the
+'Bacchante' is finished?"
+
+"Because I don't see any necessity," I answered. "Besides, if I get
+any other model you would feel the same, wouldn't you, about her?"
+
+"Any model you kissed and desired. Yes, certainly."
+
+We were both standing now facing each other. Viola was deadly pale, as
+she always became in any conflict with me.
+
+I stood silent for a moment.
+
+I could not understand how she knew and could speak so definitely, but
+I could not lie and deny it, so I said nothing.
+
+"Do you mean that I am never to kiss another woman as long as I live?"
+I asked, a shade of derision coming into my voice.
+
+"No, only as long as we are what we are to each other."
+
+A chill fell upon me. I could not think of a time when she would not
+be with me, could not face the idea of change.
+
+The light fell across her very bright and waving hair, and caught the
+tips of her eyelashes and fell all round her exquisite, girlish
+figure, full of that wonderful grace I had never seen in any other.
+
+"It is a pity to make your love, which otherwise would be such a
+divine pleasure, a thing of restraint and fetters," I said slowly.
+
+"But it is a mutual obligation in love," she said in a very low tone.
+"It must be so. You would not wish me to kiss any of the men who come
+here, would you? They often ask me to."
+
+Her words gave me suddenly such a sense of surprise and shock, it was
+almost as if she had struck me in the eyes.
+
+"_No_," I said involuntarily, the instinct within me speaking without
+thought.
+
+"Well, that is what I say," answered Viola gently. "A great passion
+has its fetters. I don't see how it can be helped. You can have the
+promiscuous loves of all the women you meet, or you can have the
+absolute devotion of one; but I don't see how you can have the two."
+
+My heart beat, and the blood seemed going up to my head, confusing my
+reason. I felt angry because I knew she was right.
+
+"Well, really it seems that the first might be better if one's life is
+to be so limited."
+
+Viola did not answer at all. I turned and walked towards the window
+and stood looking out for a few minutes. When I turned round the room
+was empty.
+
+I went up to the studio, but again I could not paint. The pale,
+unhappy face of Viola came between me and the picture.
+
+To Veronica I hardly spoke. Her beauty neither attracted nor even
+pleased me. She was the cause of all this vague cloud rising up in my
+life, which had hitherto been intensely happy and allowed me to do
+the very best in my art.
+
+Her efforts to attract me and to draw me from my work only annoyed and
+irritated me, and when I went down to tea I told her to go, that I
+should not paint afterwards.
+
+No one happened to be calling that afternoon, so Viola and I were
+alone. There was hardly any constraint between us even after what had
+passed at luncheon. We were so much one, so intimate, mentally as well
+as physically, that we could not quarrel with each other any more than
+one can quarrel with oneself. One can be cross with oneself
+occasionally, but not for long.
+
+We neither of us referred to Veronica or anything disagreeable, but
+gave ourselves up to the joy of each other's society. When I told her
+I was not going back to paint she was delighted, and we planned to
+dine early and go to the Empire after.
+
+The ballet seemed to amuse her, and when we returned and went up to
+our room she was in the lightest and gayest of spirits. This room was
+the only one in the house in the furnishing of which Viola had taken
+the slightest interest. In all the others she had allowed things to
+stand just as we found them, just as our landlord had thought good to
+leave them, but in this one much had been added to the contents
+written down in the inventory and so much altered that our landlord
+would indeed have been astonished if he had suddenly looked in. The
+bed was a triumph of artistic skill, designed and arranged under her
+own directions, the curtains enclosing it were delicate in colouring
+and so soft in fabric that the bed seemed enveloped in a mass of blue
+clouds, gold-lined, and all the sheets and clothing were filmy and
+lace-edged, and must have been the despair of the steam laundry; a
+blue silk covering, the colour of her own eyes, and embroidered with
+pale pink roses, gold-centred, reposed on it, matching the curtains,
+and an electric lamp shaded in rose colour depended from the French
+crown above the head; a lamp which flooded the bed with light when all
+the curtains were drawn and shut out the lights of the room. The
+carpet was blue also, and the heavy curtains over all the windows
+matched it, edged with, and embroidered in gold.
+
+The toilet-table, though simple enough in its arrangements, for Viola
+needed no cosmetics, no lotions, no manicure nor other evil
+inventions, was always a lovely object. On its pale rose covering lay
+her gold-backed brushes and comb, her gold hand-mirror with cupids
+playing on it, her little gold boxes of pins, and always vases of
+fresh geraniums, white and rose-pink. Out of the room at one side
+opened a smaller one, it was not used as a chapel nor yet as a
+dressing-room. We dressed together and took pleasure in so doing, as
+we did in everything that threw us into intimate companionship. We had
+no need of dressing-rooms since there were no teeth to come in and
+out, no wigs to be taken off and put on, no secrets on either side to
+be jealously guarded from one another. No, the room opening out of
+ours was a supper-room, where, when we came back late from opera or
+theatre, we could always count on finding cold supper and champagne. I
+went in to-night and turned on all the lights, which were many, while
+Viola laid aside her dress and slipped into a dressing-gown, something
+as fragile and beautiful as a rose-leaf, suiting her delicate, elusive
+beauty. She followed me into the little supper-room, and as I turned
+and saw her on the threshold, the delicacy of the whole vision struck
+me. A pain shot into my heart suddenly. Supposing I ever lost her? Saw
+her fade from me?
+
+Her eyes were wide-open and laughing, a faint colour glowed in the
+white transparent skin, the lips were a light scarlet, parted now from
+the milky teeth.
+
+I made two steps forwards and caught her and crushed her up tightly to
+my breast and kissed her and made her sit on my knee while I poured
+out some champagne.
+
+"Now drink that," I commanded; "you look as if you needed something
+material. You look like a vision that may vanish from me into thin
+air."
+
+Viola laughed and drank the wine.
+
+"Trevor," she said reflectively, as if following up some train of
+thought she had been pursuing already a long time. "What heaps of
+wonderfully beautiful girls and women we saw to-night. Wouldn't you
+like some of them?"
+
+I laughed.
+
+"Some of them! Supposing you send me up a dozen or two?"
+
+"No, but really I was thinking as I sat there to-night, how pretty
+they were, and how varied. I can quite understand how a man would like
+to try them all."
+
+"You would object, I am afraid," I said gravely. "You object even to
+Veronica."
+
+"I know. I don't think it's possible to do otherwise. I shouldn't love
+you if I didn't. But if you gave me up you could have all these
+others."
+
+"Well, you see, it is the other way; I have given them all up for
+you."
+
+"I know, but is it wise for your own happiness? I thought about it a
+great deal to-night."
+
+"Women like that can give one only the simple pleasure of the senses.
+It is very much the same with them all; but with you there is some
+extraordinary passion created in the brain as well as in the senses,
+that makes it a different thing."
+
+"I am so glad," she murmured, leaning her arms on the table and
+looking at me with eyes absorbed and abstracted.
+
+"There is no single thing in this world I would not do to give you
+pleasure, to delight and satisfy you. I have never refused you
+anything, have I?"
+
+"Never."
+
+And it was true. She never had refused me anything it was in her power
+to give. Still she held something that was not yet mine; the inner
+spirit of the Soul.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Days passed and things continued in the same way. I had not the
+strength of mind to dismiss Veronica, to deprive myself of that
+subtle, delicious pleasure that lay in her soft kisses, in the bloom
+of her beauty, in her professed devotion to myself. The Bacchante was
+not quite finished, so that gave me the outward excuse. The excuse I
+put forward to myself was that Viola could not possibly know what I
+felt for the girl nor what I did, and so it could not hurt her.
+
+Veronica made no secret of her wishes to tie me more closely to her
+still. But, in spite of the clamour of the senses, there was something
+within me or round me that held me irresistibly from this.
+
+All that I had done already I knew that Viola would forgive, even
+though it grieved and distressed her. If I went further I did not
+know that she would ever forgive, and that made an insurmountable
+barrier that nothing Veronica could do or say could break down.
+
+The weeks slipped by and brought us to the date when Viola's operetta
+was to be produced. On the evening which she had so looked forward to,
+now it had come, she seemed tired and spiritless, and we dressed for
+dinner almost in silence. Captain Lawton and another man who had
+helped in the production of the piece were dining with us, and we were
+then going on to our box at the theatre.
+
+At dinner Viola seemed to regain some of her old gay spirits, and the
+light rose colour I loved crept back into her cheeks as she laughed
+and talked with Lawton seated on her right hand. I had always thought
+him a particularly handsome fellow, and to-night it struck me suddenly
+what an extremely attractive man he must be in a woman's eyes. He was
+dark and a little sunburnt from being in South Africa, and, combined
+with really beautiful features and a fine figure, he had that dashing
+grace of carriage, that unaffected simple manner of the soldier, which
+even by itself has a charm of its own.
+
+I looked at Viola curiously, and wondered how she felt towards this
+man who was so obviously in love with her. Whether it moved her at all
+to see those dark eyes fill with fire as she smiled at him, to know
+that the whole of this engaging personality was hers if she chose to
+stretch out her hand and claim it.
+
+The dinner passed off well, thanks principally to the inexhaustible
+tide of good spirits and fun that flowed from Lawton. We took a couple
+of hansoms afterwards and arrived at the theatre in good time.
+
+The "Lily of Canton" went smoothly from beginning to end. The crowded
+house laughed and applauded the whole time. In fact, the humour and
+fun of Lawton's libretto were irresistible, and the beautiful airs
+that Viola's fancy had woven in and out to carry the wit of Lawton's
+sparkling lines enchanted the audience.
+
+At the end there were calls for both of them to appear before the
+curtain, and Viola left the box with him, radiant and smiling. When
+they both appeared on the stage the enthusiasm was unbounded. Viola
+was in white, and her delicate, rose-like fairness delighted the
+audience, and the women clapped Lawton with good-will. Handsome, easy,
+dignified, graceful, and debonair as usual, he smiled and bowed his
+acknowledgments over and over again beside Viola, into whose face came
+the wrapt, glad look that her music always gave, replacing the
+expression of pain she had worn now for so many weeks.
+
+I sat in our box watching her, with sore, jealous feelings rising up
+like mists over the pride I had in my possession. As the whole scene
+and her triumph stirred and roused my passion for her, some voice
+seemed interrogating me--"Is she and her love not enough for you? Why
+do you wear thin and fray the delicious tie between you?"
+
+They were both up again in the box beside me, directly surrounded by
+congratulating friends; and then Lawton gathered together his party
+and we all filed off in a stream of hansoms to the supper that he was
+giving in Viola's honour. It was already daylight before we reached
+home.
+
+The next evening I had to attend an artists' dinner. It was for men
+only, so that Viola was not invited. I spent a very busy morning and
+afternoon in the studio. The Bacchante was almost finished, and I had
+made up my mind to dismiss Veronica as soon as I was sure I was
+satisfied with the picture and did not need her again. Full of this
+resolve, I was perhaps a little more careless than usual, less on my
+guard, and when at the end Veronica came to kiss me, I returned her
+caress with more warmth than I was accustomed to do. It did not really
+matter, I thought; the girl would be gone in a day or two and I should
+have no more to do with her.
+
+Feeling rather pleased with myself for having taken the decided
+resolution to dismiss her in order to please Viola I went downstairs,
+and was rather vexed when I met her to see her looking particularly
+white and ill. She had seemed fairly well at luncheon, and I could not
+shake off the extraordinary idea that my conduct with Veronica through
+the afternoon was in some way connected with her pallor and expression
+now.
+
+I had it on my lips to say--"I have decided to dismiss the model,"
+when that feeling of irritation against her for looking so wretched
+came uppermost and held the words back.
+
+If she couldn't trust me and would worry about things when I told her
+not to, she might worry and I would let her alone.
+
+It really always hurt and alarmed me so much to see Viola look ill or
+delicate that it made me angry with her, instead of extra considerate
+and kind as I should have been.
+
+She came upstairs to be with me while I dressed, and sat in the
+armchair at the foot of the bed.
+
+I asked her if she had a headache, and she said, "No."
+
+"What did you do all this afternoon?" I asked. "Did any one come in to
+tea?"
+
+"No, nobody came. I was lying on a sofa in the drawing-room most of
+the time, thinking. I didn't feel able to do anything."
+
+I did not ask her what she had been thinking about, but went on
+dressing in silence.
+
+Before I left I kissed her, but it was rather a cold kiss, as I felt
+she ought to be happy and pink-cheeked as a result of my good
+intentions--unreasonably enough, since I had not told her of them.
+
+She accepted it, but seemed to hesitate as if she wished to say
+something to me. I saw her grow paler and her lips quiver. She did not
+speak, however, and so in rather a strained silence we parted and I
+went downstairs.
+
+How I regretted that coldness afterwards! How mad and blind one is
+sometimes where one loves most!
+
+I did not enjoy the dinner at all because I could not deny to myself
+that I had been unkind to her, with that tacit unkindness that is so
+keenly felt and is so difficult to meet or combat. I left the hotel
+where the dinner had been held quite early, and drove back to the
+house, longing and impatient to be with her again, hold her in my
+arms, and tell her all I had resolved and been thinking about, and
+kiss the bright colour back into her face again.
+
+I let myself in with my latch-key and ran up the stairs into the
+drawing-room.
+
+It was brightly lighted, but empty. I was just going to seek her
+upstairs when a note set up before the clock on the mantelpiece caught
+my eye.
+
+I crossed the room, took it up, tore it open, and ran my eyes
+hurriedly down it, line after line.
+
+    "_Dearest,_
+
+    "Our relations have entered upon a new phase lately. I suppose it
+    cannot be helped, it is merely the turning on of the wheel of
+    time. We cannot stay the wheel, still less turn it back. All we
+    can do is to adjust ourselves to the new position.
+
+    "You have wished for your freedom. It is yours. I have never
+    wanted to take it away, but I feel I cannot go on dedicating my
+    life and every thought I have to you as I have done, if you wish
+    to share with others all that has been mine and all that I value
+    most in this or any world. I have tried, but it is beyond me. You
+    cannot think what I have suffered in these last weeks. I have
+    reasoned with myself, asked myself what did it matter what you did
+    when you were away from me, why should one rival now matter more
+    than those the past has held for me? I have argued, reasoned,
+    fought with myself, but it is useless. These unconquerable
+    instincts of jealousy have been placed in us and are as strong as
+    those other instincts of desire that excite them.
+
+    "The life of the last few weeks is killing me. I am losing my
+    health, losing my power to work. It is the concentration of all my
+    thoughts upon you that is maddening, impossible now that you no
+    longer belong to me. Even your presence, once the sun of my
+    existence, is painful to me now; and when you come straight from
+    another woman to kiss me, it is agony. I cannot bear it.
+
+    "You thought I did not know all the kisses and caresses you have
+    given Veronica. Dear Trevor, a woman always knows--perhaps a man
+    does, too. Certainly I knew. One does not have to see or hear;
+    there is a sense, not yet discovered, that is above all the
+    others, that tells us these things. When you came from her to me
+    you brought with you an influence that killed. Perhaps it was that
+    you were surrounded with an electricity from her that was hostile
+    to my own.
+
+    "I have felt lately a longing to be away from you, a longing to
+    escape from pain and torture, but the music keeps me in town, and
+    we cannot well separate here without a scandal, which I know you
+    would not wish. So I am going to try and escape mentally from you,
+    though our bodies must occupy the same house for a little while
+    longer.
+
+    "I am going to try to interest myself in others, not to think of
+    you, not to care for you as I have done. We have both been foolish
+    perhaps, as you say, in limiting our lives to each other, let us
+    end the idea between us. Let us be like ordinary married people.
+    You are free to choose whatever paths of pleasure open before you,
+    I am the same. To-night when you come back you will find this
+    letter instead of me. I shall dine out with one of these men who
+    want me and afterwards spend the evening with him. I will come
+    back early enough to cause no comment, but I will not come to your
+    room, as I do not suppose you will want me. I have had another
+    room put ready, and I shall go there.
+
+    "Good-bye, dearest one; if you could know all the agony that has
+    gone before this breaking of the tie between us! Now I seem to
+    feel nothing; I am dead. I can't cry; can't think any more.
+
+    "VIOLA."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I read this letter through with an agonised terror coming over me,
+that gripped and wrung my heart, through the cloud of amaze that
+filled me. Towards the end the words seemed to stab me. As I came to
+the conclusion the truth broke upon me in a blinding, lightning flash.
+_I_ had lost her. But it was incredible, unthinkable. She was part of
+my life, part of myself. I still lived; therefore, she was mine. I
+felt paralysed. I could not grasp fully what she had said, what she
+intended me to understand. It was as when one is told a loved one is
+dead. It means nothing to us for a moment. Reason goes down under a
+flood of sickening fear. I read the last page over again.
+
+Then I sprang to my feet and stared round the empty room as if seeking
+an explanation from it. It offered none. All round me was orderly,
+placid. Only within me burned a hell, lighted by those written words.
+It was very quiet, only an occasional drip of the June rain outside
+broke the stillness.
+
+An exquisite picture of Viola laughed joyously back at me from a
+little table covered with vases of white flowers, white as she had
+been that first night at the studio....
+
+O God in heaven, what _had_ I done to bring this ruin into my own
+life? _Had_ I deserved it? Had I? I thought wildly.
+
+What had I done? What did it all mean? Veronica? A few kisses? the
+impulse of passion? It was nothing, everything was nothing to me
+beside Viola. She must have known that. Then I recalled her appeals to
+me. She had asked me to give up Veronica, why had I not done so?
+Instead, how had I met Viola; how had I answered her? My own words
+were hurled back upon me by memory and fell upon me like blows, so had
+they fallen upon her. How could I have been so mad, so blind?
+
+Her favourite chair was pushed a little from the fire; by its side I
+noticed something white, and stooped mechanically to pick it up. It
+was her handkerchief, crushed together and soaked through and through.
+How she must have been crying to wet it like that! At the corner it
+was marked with blood, as if she had pressed it to bitten lips.
+
+My own eyes filled with scorching tears as I looked at it.
+
+It was the one sign of the passion and agony that had raged in that
+room before I came back.
+
+If I had only returned sooner! I put the handkerchief in my breast,
+and took up her letter again. Could I do anything, anything now to
+follow, to recall her?
+
+I looked at the clock, and ice seemed to close round my heart and
+chill it. It was already eleven. Then the phrase about the other room
+struck me. Could she have possibly returned? I opened the door and
+went upstairs and through all the rooms in the house. All were empty.
+I saw the bedroom farthest from mine had been put ready for occupancy,
+and some few trifles of her own taken from our room and put into it.
+Then I came back, sick with apprehension, to the drawing-room again,
+questioning what I could do.
+
+To whom would she have gone? As the thought came all the blood in my
+body seemed to seethe and rage, but the question had to be faced. For
+a moment no definite idea would form itself. Then the recollection of
+Lawton dashed in upon me. The man's head seemed photographed suddenly
+on all the pale walls round me; handsome, brilliant, engaging, well
+born, and well bred, he was the man of all others surely to attract
+her.
+
+She would go to him, they would dine together, she would return to
+his chambers with him.... She had not come back yet.
+
+For a few moments I was mad. I laid my hand on the back of the chair
+near me, and it was smashed in my grip. Then the madness passed over,
+and I could think again. I went upstairs, took out my revolver, and
+loaded it. I thought I would go round to Lawton's place, ... but, when
+coming downstairs again, the thought struck me--Suppose it was not
+Lawton? What would the latter think of my sudden appearance, my
+enquiries? Twelve had now struck.
+
+There was just a possibility that she would not fulfil her letter,
+that she would come back to me; but if I by my actions to-night
+brought any publicity on what she had done, I should make an injury
+where none existed.
+
+I thought for some time over this, and it seemed impossible for me to
+do anything but wait for her return--wait till I knew.
+
+The thought of her name, her reputation, and how I might possibly
+injure them now held me there motionless.
+
+It seemed incredible that she could be so long away and yet her
+absence mean nothing. But the other supposition, the thought of her
+passing from me, seemed more incredible still.
+
+I know how great her love for me was, and love like ours is not
+easily swept aside and its claims broken down. Still, in a paroxysm of
+jealous agony and resentment against me, all might be obscured, and if
+Lawton were there persuading....
+
+And this, something of this pain, I now felt, she had suffered, as the
+soaked handkerchief told me.
+
+How I loathed the thought of Veronica! Love, even when it has expired,
+leaves some tenderness of feeling to us; passion once dead leaves
+nothing but loathing.
+
+I got up and wrote a few lines of dismissal. It was something to do,
+something to distract my devouring thoughts. I enclosed a cheque for
+all, and more than the sum due to her. Then I flung the letter on the
+table, and pushed the thought of her out of my mind.
+
+I paced up and down the room, looking constantly at the clock. What
+were these fleeting moments taking from me? My brain seemed on fire
+and full of light. Picture after picture rose before me, vivid,
+brilliant--all pictures of Viola and hours passed with her. What a
+wonderful personality she had, and I alone had possessed it. How
+utterly and entirely she had given herself to me, me alone of all the
+many who coveted her. I had been the first, the only one for her, till
+my own hand had foolishly cut the ties that bound us together. If I
+lost her, suppose I gained everything else in the world, would it
+content me? Could I lose her? Could I let her go? But I _had. I_
+glanced at the clock. It was now one. She had not returned. By this
+time she had passed from me to another. The pain, the acute pain of
+it, of this thought seemed to divide my brain like a two-edged sword.
+What had I done?
+
+Why had I not realised that I should feel like this? To have and then
+to lose while one still desires, this is the most horrible pain in the
+world. The animals feel it to the point of madness, and they are wise,
+they do not court it. They will tear their rival, even the female
+herself, in pieces rather than yield her up. But I! What had I done? A
+mate had nestled to my breast, and I had not been wise enough to hold
+it there. And now I suffered; how I suffered! My brain seemed to
+writhe in those moments of agony like a body on the rack or in the
+flames. Each thought was a torture: sweet recollections came to me
+like the breath of flowers, only to turn into a fresh agony of
+despair.
+
+There is no pain so absolutely black in its hideous agony as jealousy.
+The other mental pains of this life may last longer, but there is none
+that cuts down deeper, that possesses such a ravening tooth, while it
+lasts, as this.
+
+The vision of Lawton's face was like a brand upon my brain. I saw it
+everywhere, as it had looked when she smiled upon him at dinner.
+
+Suddenly, as I paced backwards and forwards, I heard a little noise
+outside, a light footfall on the stairs or landing. I stood still, my
+heart seeming to knock about inside my chest as if it wanted to leap
+out between the ribs. Then I went to the door and threw it wide open.
+She stood there just outside. The light from within fell upon her, and
+my eyes ran over her, questioning, devouring, while waves of hope and
+terror seemed dashing up against my brain like the surf over a rock.
+
+She looked collected, mistress of herself, her dress and hair were
+perfect in arrangement as when she had started, on her face was a
+curious look of gladness, of relief, of decision, of triumph. What was
+its meaning?
+
+I took both her hands and drew her over the threshold. She came
+gladly. She must have seen the agony of fear, of questioning in my
+face, for after a swift look up at me she said impulsively:
+
+"I am so glad to be back with you, Trevor."
+
+I could not answer her. I stood silent. The sick fatigue of hours of
+painful emotion was creeping over me, and the agony of longing to know
+everything from her lips seemed to paralyse me.
+
+"I could not, after all, dearest," she said, in a very low tone. "I
+could not do anything on my side to sever myself from you, so I have
+come back to you."
+
+Her voice seemed to come to me from a long distance, but every word
+was clear and distinct. The relief of the loosening of the pressure of
+one hideous idea was intense. I took a chair beside her and put my arm
+round her shoulders.
+
+"Tell me what has happened, then, since you left me."
+
+She was drawing off her gloves slowly; the flesh of the fingers and
+wrist was slightly indented from long pressure of the kid. I saw that
+her glove had not been removed for several hours. A great tide of
+pleasure and relief broke slowly over me.
+
+"Well, I went straight from here to Lawton's chambers, and he was out;
+so I sat down in one of his easy chairs by the fire to wait for him. I
+sat and sat there, looking into the fire, and somehow I forgot all
+about Lawton and began thinking about you and the pictures and your
+wonderful voice and all the delightful times we had had together; and
+then I thought of all I had always tried to do for you, and how you
+were the first, the very first man I had ever cared for or done
+anything for, and how I had always belonged to you; and it seemed a
+pity to spoil it all--if you understand. I felt I could not with my
+own hands pull down the beautiful fabric of my love for you that I had
+built up. I felt I could not give myself to any one else, there seemed
+something irresistible holding me from it. You must do what you like,
+be faithful or not to me, but I must be faithful to you."
+
+She threw back her head and looked at me. Her elusive loveliness,
+lying all in colour and bloom and light, was at its height. She was
+intensely excited, and the excitement paled the skin, widened the
+lustrous eyes, heightened the extreme delicacy of the face. I bent
+over her and kissed her as I had never done yet; it was one of those
+moments in life when the soul seems to have wings and fly upwards.
+
+After a moment.
+
+"And then," I said, "did you come back to me?"
+
+"Well, gradually, as I sat there, a horror of Lawton, of everything
+came over me. I did not know how long I had sat there. I looked at my
+watch: it was two. I was terrified. I only wanted to escape. I got up
+to go, and just then I heard Lawton coming in. There was a screen near
+me, and it did just occur to me I might conceal myself and pass out as
+he went to the inner room; but I did not like the idea of hiding in
+any one's rooms, so I stood still, and he came in."
+
+She was silent, and I felt suddenly plunged back into a mist of
+questioning horror. What had passed between these two? Had any links
+in some new chain been forged?
+
+But she was mine! Mine! and I would never let her go.
+
+"What did you say?" I asked her. My throat was so dry the words were
+hardly more than a whisper.
+
+"He started of course on seeing me, and then rushed forwards and
+said, 'Darling,' or something of that sort. I hardly heard what he
+said. I said simply: 'I was just going when you came in. I can't
+stay.' Then, of course, he asked me why I had come and all that and,
+oh, heaps and heaps of things. You know all the usual things a man
+does say, and I answered if he really cared for me he would let me go
+at once. Then he walked to the door, shut and locked it, and put the
+key in his pocket."
+
+She paused, and I looked away from her. I was in such a passion of
+rage against the man, and almost also with her for putting herself in
+such a position, I did not care for her to see my eyes.
+
+"Go on," I said; "what did you do?"
+
+"I asked him why he had locked the door, and he said to prevent my
+going until I had told him why I had come. I said I had changed my
+mind in the hours I had sat there, and he answered: 'Well, you will
+change it again if you stay here some more hours,' and he came and sat
+on the chair arm beside me. You see, Trevor, it wasn't his fault a
+bit, for he guessed I had come with all sorts of nice feelings for
+him, and he felt it was only his part, as it were, to play up to the
+situation, that it would be impossible to do anything but seem to wish
+to keep me when I had come."
+
+"Don't trouble to tell me all that," I said angrily; "I know what
+Lawton feels for you. I know he is wild about you. I wonder you are
+not murdered. Go on, what did he do?"
+
+"He was awfully good and nice. He tried for an hour to persuade me. He
+wanted to kiss me, of course. I said I was in his power, but that he
+would kill me before I would kiss him voluntarily. I think that
+convinced him, for he walked straight to the door and unlocked it and
+threw it open. Then he said he couldn't let me go into the streets at
+that hour alone, and so he came with me. He walked all the way here
+and left me at this door. That's all."
+
+There was silence. Such a tremendous upheaval of emotions and feelings
+seemed surging within me I could not speak. My voice seemed dried dead
+in my throat. No words came before my mind that I could use.
+
+Dawn was creeping slowly into the room. The hideous black night was
+over. Pale light, very soft and grey, but overpowering, was stealing
+in, mingling with the electric gold glare it was so soon to kill. It
+seemed to me like that mysterious, impalpable spirit we call love that
+is overpowering, dominant over everything, before which the false
+glare of the fires of sense pale into nothingness.
+
+"Trevor," she said at last, breaking the silence of the pale, misty
+room, "are you glad I decided as I did? You must do just what you
+like; I only felt I could not do anything against you."
+
+I turned and drew her wholly into my arms, and at that warm, living
+contact my voice came back to me.
+
+"You are my life, my soul, and you ask if I am glad you've come back
+to me? There is nothing in the world for me really but you. Everything
+else is dust and ashes, that can be swept away by the lightest
+transient wind. You are the very life in my veins, and you must be
+mine always, as you have been from the very first."
+
+I pressed my lips down on hers with all the force of that fury of
+triumph which rose within me. I did not want her answer. I merely
+wanted to force my words between her lips, to drive them home to her
+heart. She was my regained possession, and the joy of it was like
+madness. She put her arms round my neck and lay quite still and
+passive, close pressed against my heart, and our souls seemed to meet
+and hold communion with each other and there was no need of any more
+words.
+
+
+
+
+PART FOUR
+
+THE CRIMSON NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+LOSS
+
+
+We had left town and come down to the country. Viola had not seemed
+quite so well in the last three months since the night of our
+reconciliation, and even here in the country she did not seem to
+regain her colour and her usual spirits.
+
+She declared, however, there was nothing the matter with her, and we
+had been intensely happy.
+
+One morning when we came down to our rather late breakfast I found a
+long, thin, curiously addressed letter lying by my plate.
+
+Viola took it up laughingly, and then I saw her suddenly turn pale,
+and she laid it back on the table as if the touch of it hurt her.
+
+"Oh, Trevor, that is a letter from Suzee! I am sure it is! Why should
+it come now, just when we are so happy?"
+
+I looked at her in surprise, and took up the letter to cut it open.
+
+"What makes you think it comes from her?" I asked; "it is not at all
+likely."
+
+"I know it does," she said simply; "I feel it."
+
+I laughed and opened the letter, not in the least believing she would
+be right. The first line, however, my eye fell upon shewed me it was
+from Suzee. The queer, stiff, upright characters suggested Chinese
+writing, and the first words could be hers alone:
+
+    "Dear Mister Treevor,
+
+    "Do you remember me? I am in awful trouble. Husband died and also
+    baby. I sent here to be sold for slave to rich Chinaman. Please
+    you buy me. Send my price 500 dollars to Mrs. Hackett, address as
+    per above.
+
+    "Dear Treevor, dear Treevor, do come to me. You remember the wood?
+
+    "I am yours not sold yet,
+
+    "SUZEE."
+
+I read this through with a feeling of amaze. Suzee had for so long
+been a forgotten quantity to me, something left in the past of the
+Alaskan trip, like the stars of the North, that her memory, thrown
+back suddenly on me like this, startled me.
+
+I handed the letter to Viola in silence. She read it through, and then
+pushed it away from her.
+
+"I told you so. There is no peace in this world!"
+
+"But it needn't affect us, dearest," I said. "Suzee is nothing to me
+now. I don't want her. There is nothing to distress you."
+
+"But you'll have to do something about it, I suppose," returned Viola
+gloomily. She was making the tea, and I saw her hands shook.
+
+"I believe you would like to go. It would be a new experience for you.
+You would go if that letter came to you when you were living as a
+bachelor, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Possibly I might. But then, of course, when one is free it is
+different. Everything is different."
+
+"Free!" murmured Viola, her eyes filling. "I hate to think I am tying
+you."
+
+"It is not that," I said gently; "one does not want to do the same
+things, nor care about them."
+
+"You wanted Veronica and didn't have her on my account, I am not going
+to prevent you doing this. You must go if you want to."
+
+She threw herself into the easy chair with her handkerchief pressed to
+her mouth. The tears welled up to her eyes and poured down her white
+face uncontrollably.
+
+"Dearest, dear little girl," I said, drawing her into my arms, "you
+are upsetting yourself for nothing. I don't want to go, I shan't think
+of going. I am perfectly happy; you are everything to me."
+
+She leant her soft head against me in silence, sobbing for some
+seconds.
+
+"Come and have breakfast," I said, stroking her hair gently, "and
+don't let us think anything more about it. If fifty Suzees were
+calling me I should not want to go."
+
+Viola dried her eyes and came to the table in silence. We had other
+letters to open, and we discussed these, and no further reference was
+made to Suzee then.
+
+Viola looked white and abstracted all day, but it was not till after
+dinner, when we were taking our coffee on the verandah, that she gave
+me any clew to her thoughts. Then she said suddenly:
+
+"Trevor, I want you to let me go away from you for a year."
+
+I gazed at her in astonishment. She looked very wretched. All the
+usual bright colour of her face had fled. Her eyes were large, with
+the pupils widely dilated in them. There was a determined, fixed
+expression on the pale lips that frightened me.
+
+"Why?" I said, merely drawing my chair close to hers and putting my
+arm round her shoulders.
+
+"That is just what I can't tell you," she answered. "Not now. When I
+come back I will tell you, but I don't want to now. But I have a good
+reason, one which you will understand when you know it. But do just
+let me go now as I wish, without questions. I have thought it over so
+much, and I am sure I am doing the right thing."
+
+"You have thought it over?" I repeated in surprise. "Since when?
+Since this morning, do you mean?"
+
+"No, long before that. Suzee's letter has only decided me to speak
+now. I have been meaning to ask you to let me go for some time, only I
+put it off because I thought you would dislike it so and would feel
+dull without me. But now, if you let me leave you, you can go to Suzee
+for a time, and she will amuse and occupy you, and if you want me at
+the end of the year I will come back."
+
+The blood surged up to my head as I listened. How could she
+deliberately suggest such things?
+
+Did she really care for me or value our love at all?
+
+In any case, for no reason on earth would I let her go.
+
+"No, I shall not, certainly not, consent to anything so foolish," I
+said coldly; "I can't think how you can suggest or think such a thing
+is possible."
+
+Viola was silent for a moment. Then she said:
+
+"When I come back I would tell you everything, and you would see I was
+right."
+
+"I don't know that you ever would come back," I said, with sudden
+irrepressible anger.
+
+"If you go away I might want you to stay away. You talk as if our
+emotions and passions were mere blocks of wood we could take up and
+lay down as we pleased, put away in a box for a time, and then bring
+them out again to play with. It's absurd. You talk of going away and
+driving me to another woman, and then my coming back to you, as if it
+was just a simple matter of our own will. Once we separate and allow
+our lives to become entangled with other lives we cannot say what will
+happen. We might never come together again."
+
+Viola inclined her head.
+
+"I know," she said in a low tone. "I have thought of all that. But if
+I stay there will be a separation all the same, and perhaps something
+worse."
+
+"What do you mean by a separation?" I demanded hotly.
+
+"Well, I cannot respond to you any more as I used. I must have rest
+for a time," she answered in a low tone.
+
+I looked at her closely, and it struck me again how delicate she
+looked. She was thinner, too, than she had been. Her delicate, almost
+transparent hand shook as it rested on the chair arm.
+
+The colour rushed burning to my face as I leant over her.
+
+"But, darling girl, if you want more rest you have only to say so.
+Perhaps I have been thoughtless and selfish. If so, we must alter
+things. But there is no need to separate, to go away from me for
+that."
+
+"No, I know," returned Viola in a very tender tone; "I should not for
+that alone. You are always most good. It is not that only. There are
+other reasons why I would rather be away from you until we can live
+together again as we have done."
+
+"And you propose to go away, and suggest my living with another woman
+till you come back?" I said incredulously; dismay and apprehension and
+anger all struggling together within me for expression.
+
+"Would it be more reasonable of me to expect to leave you and you to
+wait absolutely faithful to me till I came back?" she asked, looking
+at me with a slow, sad smile, the saddest look I had ever seen, I
+thought, on a woman's face. I bent forwards and seized both little
+hands in mine and kissed them many times over.
+
+"Of the two I would rather you did that. Yes," I said passionately.
+"But there is no question of your going away; whatever happens, we'll
+stick to each other. If you want rest you shall have it; if you are
+ill I will nurse you and take care of you; but I shan't allow you to
+go away from me."
+
+She put her arms round my neck. "Dear Trevor, if you would trust me
+just this once, and let me go, it would be so much better."
+
+"No, I cannot consent to such an arrangement," I answered; "it's
+absurd. I can't think what you have in your own mind, but I know
+nothing would be a greater mistake than what you propose. The chances
+are we should never come together again."
+
+There was silence for a moment, broken only by a heavy sigh from
+Viola.
+
+"Won't you tell me everything you have in your own mind?" I said
+persuasively. "I thought we never made mysteries with one another; it
+seems to me you are acting just like a person in an old-fashioned
+book. You can tell me anything, say anything you like, nothing will
+alter my love for you, except deception--that might."
+
+"And you seem to think separation might," returned Viola sadly.
+
+"I don't think it's a question of separation altering my love for you,
+but in separation sometimes things happen which prevent a reunion."
+
+Viola was silent.
+
+"Do tell me," I urged. "Tell me what you have in your mind. Why has
+this cloud come up between us?"
+
+"You see," Viola said very gently, "there are some things, if you tell
+a man, he is obliged to say and do certain things in return. If you
+take the matter in your own hands you can do better for him than he
+can do for himself."
+
+"It is something for me then?" I said smiling. "I am to gain by your
+leaving me for a year?"
+
+"Yes, I think so," she answered doubtfully. "But principally it is for
+myself. I know there is a great risk in going away, but I think a
+greater one if I stay."
+
+I was silent, wondering what it could possibly be that she would not
+tell me. Although she said she had formed the idea before Suzee's
+letter came, I kept returning to that in my thoughts as the main
+reason that must be influencing her.
+
+I waited, hoping if I did not press her she would perhaps begin to
+confide in me of her own accord. But she sat quite silent, looking
+intensely miserable and staring out into space before her. I felt a
+vague sense of fear and anxiety growing up in me.
+
+"Dearest, do tell me what is the matter," I said, drawing her close up
+to me and kissing her white lips.
+
+"Don't let us make ourselves miserable for nothing, like stupid people
+one reads about. Life has everything in it for us. Let us be happy in
+it and enjoy it."
+
+Viola burst into a storm of tears against my neck and sobbed in a
+heart-breaking way for some minutes.
+
+"Is it that you have ceased to love me, that you feel your own passion
+is over?" I asked gently.
+
+"No, certainly not that."
+
+"Is it that you think I want to, or ought to be free from you?"
+
+"No, not that."
+
+"Well, tell me what it is."
+
+"I can't. I think we shall be happy again, after the year, if you let
+me come back to you."
+
+I felt my anger grow up again.
+
+"I am not going to let you leave me. I absolutely forbid it. Don't let
+us talk about it any more or speak of it again unless you are ready to
+tell me your reason."
+
+There was a long silence, broken only by her sobs.
+
+"Viola."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you hear what I said?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, do not worry any more. You can't go, so it is settled. Nothing
+can hurt us while we remain together."
+
+Viola did not say anything, but she ceased to cry and kissed me and
+lay still in my arms.
+
+There was some minutes' silence, then I said:
+
+"Let's go up to bed. Sleep will do you good. You look tired and
+exhausted to the last degree."
+
+We went upstairs, and that night she seemed to fall asleep in my arms
+quickly and easily. I lay awake, as hour after hour passed, wondering
+what this strange fancy could be that was torturing her.
+
+At last, between three and four in the morning, I fell asleep and did
+not wake again till the clock struck nine on the little table beside
+me.
+
+The sun was streaming into the room, and I sat up wide awake. The
+place beside me was empty. I looked round the room. I was quite alone.
+Remembering our conversation of last night and Viola's strange manner,
+a vague apprehension came over me, and my heart beat nervously. It
+was very unusual for Viola to be up first. She generally lay in bed
+till the last moment, and always dissuaded me from getting up till I
+insisted on doing so. I sprang up now and went over to the
+toilet-table. On the back of her brushes lay a note addressed to me in
+her handwriting. Before I took it up I felt instinctively she had left
+me. For a moment I could not open it. My heart beat so violently that
+it seemed impossible to breathe, a thick mist came over my eyes. I
+took up the note and paced up and down the room for a few minutes
+before I could open it.
+
+A suffocating feeling of anger against her raged through me. The sight
+of the bed where she had so lately lain beside me filled me with a
+resentful agony. She had gone from me while I slept. To me, in those
+first blind moments of rage, it seemed like the most cruel treachery.
+
+After a minute I grew calm enough to tear open the note and read it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "My very dearest one,
+
+    "Forgive me. This is the first time I have disobeyed you in
+    anything in all the time we have been together And now [Greek:
+    bainô. to gar chrên mou te kai theôn kratei....]
+
+    "I must go from you, and you yourself will see in the future the
+    necessity that is ruling me now. Do not try to find me or follow
+    me, as I cannot return to you yet. Do believe in me and trust me
+    and let me return to you at the end of this miserable year which
+    stretches before me now a desert of ashes and which seems as if it
+    would never pass over, as if it would stretch into Eternity. But
+    my reason tells me that it will pass, and then I shall come back
+    to you and all my joy in life; for there is no joy anywhere in
+    this world for me except with you--if you will let me come back.
+
+    "No one will know where I am. I shall see no one we know. Say what
+    you wish about me to the world.
+
+    "Don't think I do not know how you will suffer at first; but you
+    would have suffered more if I had stayed. While I am away from
+    you, think of your life as entirely your own; do not hesitate to
+    go to Suzee, if you wish. I feel somehow that Fate has designed
+    you for me, not for her, and that she will not hold you for long,
+    but that, whatever happens, you will always remember
+
+    "VIOLA."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I crushed this letter in my hand in a fury of rage when I had read it,
+and threw it from me. Anger against her, red anger in which I could
+have killed her, if I could in those moments have followed and found
+her, swept over me.
+
+I looked round the room mechanically. She had dressed in the clothes
+she had been wearing yesterday apparently, and taken one small
+handbag, for I missed that from where it had stood on a chest of
+drawers.
+
+Her other luggage was there undisturbed. I saw her evening and other
+dresses hanging in the half-open wardrobe opposite me.
+
+The only thing that had gone from the toilet-table was the little
+frame with my photo in it.
+
+A sickening sense of loss, of despair came over me, mingling with the
+savage anger and hatred surging within me.
+
+After a time I rose from my chair and began to dress.
+
+I had made up my mind as to my own actions. To stay here without
+Viola, where the whole place spoke to me of her, was impossible. As
+soon as I could get everything packed I would go up to London and stay
+at my club. She would not come back.
+
+No, it was no use my waiting with that hope.
+
+Her mad scheme, whatever it was, I felt was planted deeply, her
+resolve fixed. It was true that three months before, after just such a
+cruel letter, she had come suddenly back to me, having failed in her
+resolution. I remembered that, and paused suddenly at the
+recollection. But then that was different. Then, infidelity to me had
+been in the question. Now I knew that wherever she was going it was
+not to another lover.
+
+Whatever her foolish idea was, some benefit to me was mixed up with it
+in her mind.
+
+And then, suddenly, in a tender rush of passionate reminiscence that
+would not be denied, the knowledge came home to me that, whatever her
+faults might be, however foolish and maddening her actions, no one had
+ever loved me as she had done, as unselfishly, with the same
+abandonment of self.
+
+The hot tears came scalding up under my lids. I picked up the little
+crumpled sheet of paper I had so savagely crushed, smoothed it out,
+folded it, and put it in my breast pocket.
+
+Then I turned to my packing. We had only taken rooms here. By paying I
+was free to leave at any moment.
+
+Her things? What should I do with them? Keep them with me or send them
+away to her bankers?
+
+I thought the latter, and turned to gather up her clothes and put them
+in her portmanteau. My brain seemed bursting with a wild agony of
+resentment as I took up first one thing and then another: the touch of
+them seemed to burn me. Then, when I was half-way through a trunk; I
+stopped short. Was I wise to accept the situation at all? Perhaps I
+could follow her and find out, after all, what this mystery meant.
+
+We were in a small country place, but there was a fairly good service
+of trains to town; one I knew left in the morning at seven, she might
+have taken that. I could go to the station and find out.
+
+Filled suddenly with that heart-rending longing for the sight and
+touch of the loved one again that is so unendurable in the first hours
+of separation, I thought I would do that, and I left the half-filled
+trunk and went downstairs to the hall.
+
+The two maids were standing there waiting, and they stared at me as I
+passed and put on my hat.
+
+"Please, sir, are you ready for breakfast? It's gone half-past ten."
+
+"No," I said shortly. "I am going out first."
+
+"Will Mrs. Lonsdale be coming down, sir?"
+
+I stopped short.
+
+"No, Mrs. Lonsdale has gone out already," I answered, and went on
+through the door.
+
+I didn't care what they thought. When one is in great pain, physical
+or mental, nothing seems to matter except that pain.
+
+I walked fast to the station, about a mile distant, and made enquiries
+as discreetly as I could.
+
+"No," was the unanimous answer. Mrs. Lonsdale had certainly not left
+there by any train that morning, nor been there at all, nor hired a
+fly from there. They were all quite sure of that.
+
+She was well known at the station, so it seemed improbable she could
+have been there unobserved.
+
+There was another station up the line six miles distant. She might
+easily have walked to that to avoid notice.
+
+I took a fly, and drove to the other station, but here Viola was not
+known personally, and though I described her, and was assured she had
+not been seen there, it was indefinite and uncertain information that
+settled nothing.
+
+She might have gone from there to town by an early train unnoticed, or
+she might have gone down the line to another country place to elude
+me. I could tell nothing.
+
+Feeling sick and dispirited, I drove back to the station and then
+walked on to the house.
+
+When I went upstairs the room was in disorder just as I had left it.
+As I entered the bed caught my eye, the pillow her head had so lately
+crushed, and there beside it the delicate garment she had been wearing
+a few hours ago.
+
+An immense, a devastating sense of loss came over me. A feeling of
+suffering so intense and so vast, it seemed to crush me beneath it
+physically as well as mentally.
+
+I sank down in the armchair, laid my head back and closed my eyes. I
+ceased to think any more, I was unconscious of anything except that
+sense of intense suffering.
+
+By that evening I had everything packed, all the bills paid; and I
+took the seven-o'clock train to town. I felt to stay there the night,
+to attempt to sleep in that room so full of memories of her was an
+impossibility. Something that would drive me mad if I attempted it.
+
+The people of the house stared at me when I paid them, and the maids
+looked frightened when I addressed them, but I hardly saw them, doing
+what was necessary in a mechanical way, with all my senses turned
+inward, as it were, and blunted by that one overpowering idea of loss.
+
+The two hours in a fast train did me good. I had a sort of
+subconscious feeling I was going to her by going to town which buoyed
+me up instinctively; but the reaction was terrible when I actually
+arrived and drove to some rooms I knew in Jermyn Street and realised
+that I was indeed alone.
+
+I sat up all that night, feeling my brain alight and blazing with a
+fire of agony and pain. Sleep was out of the question. A man does not
+love a woman as I loved Viola and sleep the night after she has left
+him.
+
+The next morning I went to her bankers, only to get just the answers I
+had expected.
+
+Yes, Mrs. Lonsdale had communicated with them. She was abroad, and
+they had her address but were not at liberty to disclose it. They
+would forward all letters to her immediately.
+
+I went straight back to my rooms and wrote to her. I poured out my
+whole heart in the letter, imploring her to come to me; yet every line
+I wrote I knew was useless, useless.
+
+Still I could not rest nor exist till I had written it, and when it
+was posted I felt a certain solace.
+
+I walked on to my club afterwards, and amongst other letters found
+another from Suzee.
+
+I could not imagine how she had obtained my club address at all,
+unless it was in that night when she came to my cabin. She would be
+quite capable of searching for anything she wanted and taking away
+some of my letters to obtain and keep my address.
+
+I did not open it at once. I felt a sort of anger with Suzee as being
+partly responsible for all I was going through. Whatever Viola might
+say, Suzee's letter had seemed to bring her mad resolve to a climax.
+
+I took some lunch at the club, and a man I knew came up and spoke to
+me.
+
+"Up in town again, I see," he began, to which I assented.
+
+"How's Mrs. Lonsdale?"
+
+"Quite well, thank you," I replied.
+
+"Is she up with you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Coming up soon, I suppose?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+My friend looked at me once or twice, and then after a few vacuous
+remarks went away.
+
+I knew that in a few hours it would be all over the club that I and
+Viola no longer hit it off together, that in fact we were living
+apart, and by the evening a decree _nisi_ would have been pronounced
+for us. But I didn't care what they said. Nothing mattered. No one
+could hurt me more than I was hurt already. The worst had happened.
+
+As I sat there I saw Lawton, who also belonged to the club, cross the
+end of the dining-room. He, too, would come up and speak to me if he
+caught sight of me.
+
+I felt I did not wish to speak to the man who had always loved Viola,
+who had always envied me her possession, and to whom once I had nearly
+lost her.
+
+I got up and left the club, went back to my rooms, and there got out
+my letters to read.
+
+After all, I thought, as I took up Suzee's letter, why not go out to
+'Frisco? It would make a change, something to do, something to drive
+away this perpetual desire of another's presence.
+
+A second night like last stared me in the face. What was the use of
+continuing to feel in this wretched, angry, burning, hungry way?
+
+I broke the seal and read Suzee's second appeal to me, more
+passionate, more urgent than the last. She begged me to go to her
+without delay, or it would be too late; a fervour of longing breathed
+in every line.
+
+An ironic smile came over my face as I read. This letter to me seemed
+like an echo of the one I had sent to Viola that morning. Well, I
+would wait for her answer, and then, perhaps, if she would not return
+to me, I would go to 'Frisco.
+
+In any case, I would send a few lines to Suzee with the money for her
+purchase. It would be best to cable it to her, and I went out again to
+arrange this.
+
+Five wretched, listless days went by, followed by nearly sleepless
+nights, and then came Viola's answer, apparently by the postmark from
+some place in France.
+
+My whole body shook as I opened it, and for many seconds I could see
+nothing on the paper but a mass of dancing black lines. Yet the
+immense comfort of being again in touch with her after these dreadful
+days of isolation seemed to flow over and through me like some healing
+balm.
+
+At last I read these lines:
+
+    "I am terribly, unutterably grieved, my own dearest one, to hear
+    how much you have suffered, but my return to you now would not
+    undo that, and only give you the pain in addition that I went away
+    to avoid for you.
+
+    "Go, dearest, go out to 'Frisco, and let the thought of me lie in
+    your subconsciousness for a year, a little chrysalis of future
+    happiness. Do not think of me, do not let your mind dwell on me.
+    Fill up your life with joy and work. I have a conviction that we
+    cannot ever really separate in this life. Therefore I do not fear
+    (as you seemed to do) that anything will be strong enough to keep
+    us apart if we both will to be together. Only, for a time, let me
+    sleep in your Soul in a chamber where none other can enter, and
+    the year will soon pass for you, though slowly, as a winter night,
+    for me. Your
+
+    "VIOLA."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A great numbness seized me as I came to the end.
+
+A year without her. It seemed like Eternity itself.
+
+I sat for many hours motionless with her letter in my hand.
+
+Then I went out and to a ticket office in Piccadilly, and got a
+through ticket to 'Frisco.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+IN 'FRISCO
+
+
+During the voyage to New York and the subsequent journey across
+America to San Francisco I was very wretched.
+
+The mystery of Viola's disappearance and her flight from me stood
+before my mind perpetually, worrying and harassing it. I felt no
+joyful anticipation of reaching 'Frisco and meeting Suzee, though I
+recognised in a dull way that some sort of distraction and
+companionship would be the best thing to stop this incessant pondering
+on the same subject. I slept little at night, and in the short
+intervals of rest such vivid dreams of Viola would come to me, that
+awakening in the morning brought a fresh anguish of despair and
+disappointment with it each day.
+
+This sort of thing could not go on, I must let her "lie asleep in my
+subconsciousness for a year," as she put it in her letter--for to
+forget her was impossible--or my reason would go down under the
+strain.
+
+When I arrived in San Francisco, it was one of those strange days when
+the sea-fog comes in to visit the town. It rolled in great thick
+billows down the streets from the sand dunes, obscuring everything,
+damping everything, filling the air with the salt scent of the open
+sea.
+
+I went to one of the big hotels, and they gave me a bedroom and
+sitting-room to myself: the rooms were adjoining and comfortable, but
+oh! what a blankness fell upon me as I sat down in one of the chairs
+and the bell-boy, having deposited a jug of iced water on the table,
+shut the door. I had been so much with Viola that it seemed strange to
+me now, hard to realise that I was alone. How many rooms such as
+these, she and I had come into, shared together, and how bright and
+gay her companionship had always been, how she had always laughed at
+the discomforts or the difficulties of our travels! Surely we had been
+made for each other! What strange wave of life was this that had
+broken us apart? I looked towards my bedroom, dull and cheerless and
+empty. From the open window the warm, wet, yellow fog was streaming in
+its soft wreaths through both rooms. The roar from the stone-paved
+streets, crowded with incessant traffic, came up to me muffled through
+the fog.
+
+After a time I rose, closed the windows, unpacked my things, and
+changed my clothes. Then I went down at six to dine, as I wanted a
+long evening. Some champagne cheered me, and as I sat in the long,
+crowded dining-room, alone at my small table, my heart began to beat
+again warmly at the thought of the new venture before me. To-night?
+What would it bring forth? Should I find her? The vitalising breath of
+excitement began to creep through me. I finished my dinner hurriedly,
+swallowed my black coffee at a draught, and made my way down the room
+and out to the hall, putting on my hat and coat as I went. I found the
+guide I had asked for when I first arrived at the hotel waiting for
+me. He asked me mysteriously if I had put away my watch and divested
+myself of all jewellery, and I told him impatiently I had and showed
+him a small revolver I always carried. When he was somewhat reassured
+I took the paper that Suzee had sent me out of my pocket and showed it
+to him.
+
+"That's where I want to go," I said, "and if you know every hole and
+cranny of the place as I was told, I suppose you know that one."
+
+The guide grinned as he read the name.
+
+"It's the worst place in the whole town," he remarked with a sort of
+admiring unction. I evidently went up in his estimation as he
+recognised the acumen I had shewed in my choice. I was a visitor
+worthy of his guidance, and he was put upon his mettle.
+
+"The police don't dare to go there, but they'll let me in day or
+night."
+
+We had reached the door now and stepped into the street. The fog had
+had its frolic down town, it seemed and had almost disappeared,
+rolling off to the sand dunes and the sea whence it had come. The
+night was dark and fresh with the damp saltness of the shore; a few
+stars shone above. The shops were still open, and their huge
+plate-glass windows blazed with light. We walked rapidly through these
+streets towards the Chinese quarter where the noise and light ceased.
+The streets were quiet and empty and seemed very clean. The shops here
+were closed. The lights few. There was a fever of impatience in my
+veins. I felt as when one is drawing near to an unknown combat: a
+conflict the nature of which and ultimate result one does not know.
+
+My rather shambling guide seemed amused at the pace at which I walked
+and giggled immoderately between remarks of his own which seemed to
+him to be appropriate to the occasion. I hardly heard him. At one
+moment I was lost in a bitter reflection of how many excursions and
+similar wanderings Viola had shared with me; at another, my mind
+seemed leaping eagerly forward, to seize this new joy in front of me.
+
+"That's a joss-house, and that's a tea-house, and that's a silk
+merchant," remarked my guide at intervals, indicating different
+buildings as we passed. Some were frame houses with signs hanging out,
+painted in Chinese characters and with wonderful red door-posts; some
+had latticed windows with lights burning behind. But for the most
+part, from this outer point of view, Chinatown was clean, orderly, and
+dark.
+
+We stopped at last before an open doorway through which we stepped and
+crossed a yard, hemmed in by the crowded frame buildings round it, but
+open to the sky. By the light of the stars we found a ladder at the
+farther side and ascended this as it leant against the crooked wall of
+a rickety and tumbledown-looking house. The ladder went as far as the
+second story, where there was an open square of blackness, either
+window or door, through which we scrambled from the swaying rungs and
+then found ourselves in a passage. It was very low, apparently, for I
+struck my head whenever I held it upright, and so narrow that our
+shoulders brushed the sides. It was in fact a little tunnel, reminding
+one of the rounded runways a rabbit makes in thick undergrowth. It was
+quite dark, and my guide put himself in front and took one of my
+hands, pulling me along after him down steps and round corners, along
+different twisted, corkscrew turnings, till at last a passage a little
+broader than the others opened before us, where a lamp was burning; he
+drew back against the wall, pushing me forwards, and whispering some
+directions in my ear.
+
+I passed along, as I was bid, went down two small steps, and knocked
+at the door I found before me. The door seemed a very stout one,
+securely fastened, and had a small aperture, at the height of one's
+face from the ground. It was only about five inches square and set
+with thick vertical iron bars. Behind these was an iron flap now
+closed.
+
+I knocked and waited. Presently the iron flap behind the bars was
+cautiously opened and I saw a face peering through at me. Before I
+could speak the iron flap was shut to with a clank.
+
+"That's because Nanine sees you're a stranger," whispered my guide.
+"They're a real bad lot here, and they're precious afraid of any 'tecs
+getting in. Just let me pass, sir."
+
+I drew back, and he went up and gave the most extraordinary squawk
+that I ever heard. It was a pretty good password to have, for I should
+think no stranger could imitate it. The flap flew open again, and then
+some conversation ensued through the bars.
+
+"It's all right now, sir," said the guide after a minute; "you walk
+right in." The door was now ajar. I went forwards and pushed it; it
+gave way easily. I stepped inside, and it swung to behind me. Inside
+the light was red--scarlet. A lamp was standing somewhere at the side
+of the room, behind thin, red curtains. As I entered, another door at
+the end of the room swung to on a retreating form. Some one had gone
+out. The room seemed empty. It was very small, and an enormous bed
+took up nearly the whole of it. There seemed no window at all
+anywhere: the low ceiling almost touched my head. I stopped still. A
+very slight movement somewhere near me seemed to speak of another's
+presence.
+
+"Suzee," I said under my breath.
+
+At the sound of my voice there was a delighted cry, and the next
+moment a little form in scarlet drapery threw itself at my feet.
+
+"Treevor, Treevor," came in Suzee's voice; and I bent over the little
+scarlet bundle, lifted her up, and pressed my lips on her hair. It
+smelt of roses, just as it had done in the tea-shop at Sitka, and
+carried me back there on the wings of its fragrance, as scents alone
+can do.
+
+She clung to me in a wild fervour of emotion. I felt her little hands
+dutch me desperately. She kissed my arm and wrist passionately,
+seeming not to dare to lift her face to mine. This wild abandonment,
+this frenzy of hungered, starving love, what a sharp contrast to the
+cool, slow surrender of Viola, if surrender it could be called, that
+lending of the beautiful body, with total reserve of the spirit! Even
+in that moment of this wild lavishing of love from another, as the
+little breast leapt wildly against my own, a fierce pulse of jealous
+longing went through me as I thought of that unconquered something
+that _she_ had never yielded to me.
+
+Suzee hardly seemed to expect my caresses in return, she only seemed
+to wish to pour her own upon me in the wildest, most lavish excess.
+At last, when she grew a little calmer, I held her at arm's length
+from me and looked at her.
+
+"Now, Suzee, I want you to tell me what you are doing in this awful
+place. How did you get here, to begin with?"
+
+"Oh, Mister Treevor, I have had such trouble, such awful trouble, you
+will never believe; but when I ran--when I came to Mrs. Hackett she
+was very good to me, only she wanted to sell me for two hundred and
+fifty dollars to Chinaman. I said, 'No, I belong to rich Englishman.
+He send you more if you wait. He send you three hundred!' And I wrote
+you, you remember?"
+
+"Yes," I answered. "Did you get the money all right that I cabled to
+you?"
+
+"Oh yes, Treevor, thank you; and Nanine had it and so she was willing
+to keep me."
+
+"But what have you been doing while you have been here?" I said
+glancing round. The whole place, with its hidden entrance, secret
+passages, and barred doors seemed to speak of the lowest and worst
+forms of vice.
+
+"Oh, Treevor, I have been very good, so good. I would not have any
+visitors at all. I was so afraid you would find out and not have me if
+you knew, and, besides, I loved you too much." (But this was
+evidently an after-thought, and I noted it as such. Her true reason
+was given first.) "And I knew Nanine would take all my money, whatever
+I got. She is good to the girls here, but she takes all their money,
+all, they never have any. So I said to myself, 'What is the use?
+Besides, he will come soon and take you away.' And to Nanine I
+said--'Englishman will be so angry with you and with me, perhaps he
+will kill you or tell the police if you do not keep me for him.' And
+when the money came Nanine was quite pleased and said perhaps you
+would pay more when you came, so she did not worry me with Chinamen or
+any one, and I've had this room all to myself since I've been here.
+And I was very much afraid of you, Treevor, if I did anything at all,
+so I really, really have not."
+
+I kept my eyes fixed on hers all the time she was speaking, and I felt
+as the words came eagerly from her lips that they were the truth. Her
+exquisite, untouched beauty, her ardour of passionate welcome to me
+helped to illustrate it.
+
+I smiled at her.
+
+"Well, I am quite satisfied," I said; "I believe you have been 'good,'
+as you call it, because you were afraid to be otherwise. I want to
+hear a lot more about your husband and how you came here, but I think
+we had better get out of this place as soon as we can. Have you any
+things you want to take with you?"
+
+"Only this," she said, pointing to an odd, little, hide-covered trunk
+beside her. "That has my silk clothes in it and my jewellery. If you
+want me to come away I can come now."
+
+I sat silent for a moment, thinking. Where should I take her? Back to
+my own hotel perhaps for this one night. It might be managed. It was
+getting late, most of the people in the hotel would be in bed when we
+got there. To-morrow or the next day we could start for Mexico, where
+I had made up my mind to go with her.
+
+"Very well," I said aloud; "shut up your trunk and put something round
+you, and we'll go now."
+
+"You will see Nanine? You will speak to her? Let me call her," said
+Suzee rather anxiously. And as I assented she slipped out of the room
+and reappeared with a fat, coarse-looking woman who grinned amiably as
+she saw me. She agreed to let Suzee go with me then and there for
+another hundred dollars, and said her little trunk should be sent
+downstairs and put on a cab which the guide could get for us.
+
+While this was being done, she chatted to me, thanked me for the money
+I had cabled over, and hoped I was satisfied with Suzee, her
+appearance, and the treatment she had received. I said I was, and
+asked how it was the girl had come to her at all. She seemed a little
+confused at that, and began to explain volubly that she had had
+nothing to do with it. Suzee had come there one night and begged to be
+taken in, and as she had known some of the girl's people who had
+formerly lived in Chinatown, she had done so out of pure pity and
+charity and love of humanity.
+
+I listened to all this with a smile, and, as I felt I was not getting
+the truth, did not prolong the conversation. When the guide came back
+and said he was ready for us I paid the one hundred dollars and wished
+her good-night.
+
+She opened the outer door of the room for us, and we went down a
+staircase this time which eventually led us to a door in another yard
+from which we gained the street. The ladder way, I take it, was used
+chiefly as a convenient exit in case of a raid by the police. I put
+Suzee into the cab and jumped in myself, the guide went on the box,
+and we drove back to the hotel.
+
+It needed a certain amount of moral courage to drive up to the hotel
+with the scarlet-clad Suzee beside me, but I think possibly artists
+have a larger share of that useful quality than other men. Always
+having been different from others since his childhood, the artist is
+accustomed to the gaping wonder, the ridicule as well as the
+admiration, the misunderstanding, of those about him, and it ceases to
+affect him; while viewing as he does his companions with a certain
+contempt, knowing them to be less gifted than himself, he sets no
+store by their opinion.
+
+So I paid and dismissed my guide, also the driver, pushed open the
+swinging glass doors, and entered the lounge, Suzee beside me.
+
+We were not late enough; in another hour the hall would have been
+deserted. As it was, the band had ceased playing, but there were
+numbers of men lounging about and smoking, and groups of women still
+sitting in the rocking-chairs under the palms.
+
+Through the hall we went, straight to the lift, but every eye was
+turned upon us and I felt rather than heard the gasp of horror that
+our entry caused. The elevator boy almost collapsed on the ground as I
+motioned Suzee to go in and sit down, which she did--on the floor.
+
+However, no actual force was used to restrain our movements, and we
+reached my rooms without any hindrance.
+
+It was decidedly an improvement to have her there; the rooms looked
+better, more comfortable, more as my rooms were accustomed to look.
+
+Suzee herself was extravagantly delighted, and shewed it in every look
+and gesture. Gay and radiant in her brilliant scarlet silk, she moved
+about under the electric light like a glowing animated picture.
+
+"What will you have to eat or drink?" I asked as I saw her look
+curiously into the jug of iced water that adorned my table. "I'll
+order some supper."
+
+"Anything, Treevor, anything you eat; I don't mind, and I never drink
+anything but tea. May I get out my own tea-things and make it?"
+
+"Certainly," I answered, and I watched her interestedly as she went
+down on her knees before her little trunk and opened it, turning out
+beautiful coloured silks of all shades on to the floor.
+
+While we were thus innocently engaged the hotel manager burst suddenly
+into the room. He looked very perturbed, and his face was a deep
+purple.
+
+"Now, sir, will you tell me what you mean by behaving like this in a
+respectable hotel?"
+
+He caught sight of Suzee sitting on the ground and started; the girl
+stared up at him with a look of astonishment in which I thought
+recognition blended.
+
+"Come outside," I said mildly, "and take a turn in the corridor with
+me." And we both went out and shut the door.
+
+I talked with him for fifteen minutes and explained it was unwise and
+unnecessary to make a great fuss and turn a good customer into the
+streets at this late hour. We were going in any case as soon as we
+could get off; in the mean time, the engagement of the next room to
+mine at seven dollars a day for Suzee would satisfy the proprieties.
+An artist must have models for his pictures and must put them up
+somewhere. Besides, I pointed out that he could put all my
+transgressions down at full length in the bill.
+
+This seemed to soothe him very much, and our interview ended by his
+unlocking the door of the next room, turning on the lights, and saying
+what a fine one it was. I promised Suzee should occupy it, and told
+him we wanted supper and some champagne he could recommend. This
+completely softened him, and he left me promising to send the waiter
+for orders.
+
+In a few minutes the same bell-boy appeared with another of the
+inevitable jugs of iced water, and a waiter came immediately after and
+took my orders. All this being temporarily arranged, I went back to
+Suzee. She had changed in that short time from her scarlet dress into
+one of the palest blue, the most exquisite soft tone of colour
+conceivable. It was all embroidered round the edge of the little
+jacket and the wide falling sleeves in mauve and silver, and she had
+twisted some mauve flowers and heavy silver ornaments into her shining
+hair. Her great dark eyes flashed and sparkled, the pure tint of her
+skin shewed the most faultless cream against the soft blue silk, her
+little mouth curved redly in gay smiles as she looked at me for
+admiration.
+
+I was sad and heart-sick really in my inner self, but the senses count
+for much in this life and they were pleased and told me I had done
+well.
+
+"I am quite, quite happy, Treevor," she said, as I told her she was
+beautiful, a vision to dazzle one. "Now see me make tea. All Chinese
+make it this way."
+
+On a little side table she had rigged up a sort of spirit stand, and
+on this a kettle steamed merrily. Set out on the table was a queer
+little silver box of tea and four delicate, transparent cups or
+basins, for they had no handles, of the most fairy-like egg-shell
+china, each standing in a shell-like saucer.
+
+"Where is your teapot?" I asked, coming up to the table and putting my
+hand on the blue silk-clad shoulder.
+
+"Chinese never have teapot. That's all an English mistake. Chinese
+always make tea in a cup."
+
+She took as she spoke a pinch of tea between her tiny fingers and
+dropped it into one of the cups, immediately filling it up with
+boiling water. Then she took the saucer from underneath and set it on
+the top, its rim exactly enclosed the edge of the cup. Raising the
+saucer a trifle at one side, she poured the infusion into one of the
+other little bowls, keeping her finger on the saucer to hold it in
+place. The tea leaves, kept back by the saucer, remained in the first
+cup. The tea, a clear, pale-amber liquid, filled the second.
+
+"Now it is ready to drink," she said, lifting the tiny egg-shell bowl
+and handing it to me.
+
+"Don't you have any milk or sugar?" I said, taking the hot basin in my
+hand and holding it by a little rim at the bottom, the only place one
+could hold it for the heat.
+
+"No, anything else spoil it. You drink that and I make you another."
+
+She threw away the first leaves, put a fresh pinch of tea in, filled
+up the bowl and strained it off into another as before, then picked up
+the second by the bottom rim, drained it, and repeated the process
+with marvellous rapidity. I watched her, sipping my own.
+
+"Do you like it?" she asked. "It is real gold-tipped Orange Pekoe.
+Very good tea, indeed!"
+
+I drank it. It had a wonderful flavour. I told her so and took another
+cup, to her great delight.
+
+The waiter came in, laid our supper on the table, put the champagne in
+ice, and departed. I offered Suzee the wine, but she said she had all
+the tea she could drink. She was willing to eat, however, and we sat
+down to the table.
+
+"I want you to tell me all about what happened at Sitka," I said. "How
+did poor old Hop Lee die?"
+
+"Oh, it was all such a dreadful thing, Treevor," she returned,
+spreading out both hands, on the wrists of which heavy silver bangles
+set with amethysts shone and tinkled. "He went down one day to Fort
+Wrangle on business and when he came back one day after, he had a
+fearful cough, and then he got very ill and went to bed, and I sat
+beside him and he got worse and worse. Oh, so bad, and the doctor came
+and he had very much medicine, and then his chest began to bleed, and
+he coughed very much blood for days and days and weeks, and I nursed
+him all that time, Treevor, all night long. I got no sleep at all; oh,
+it was very, very bad."
+
+I looked at her curiously. I could not somehow picture Suzee as the
+devoted nurse passing sleepless nights and never absent from the
+pillow of the suffering Hop Lee.
+
+As I looked at her, I noticed the strange thickening of the features
+and darkening of the skin I had noted before at Sitka, and knew the
+blood was mounting into the face, though she could not blush, as the
+English girl blushes, red.
+
+"It is really true, Treevor," she said, in an aggrieved tone.
+
+"I am not contradicting you," I replied calmly, "go on."
+
+"At last he died," she continued, though in rather a sulky tone, "and
+doctor said I might die too, I had made myself so ill, so thin with
+waiting on him. My bones stuck out so," she put her hands edgeways to
+her sides to indicate how her ribs, now remarkably well covered, had
+stood out from her sufferings; but remembering the fictitious blows
+she had recounted to me when I first met her, I was not so much
+stirred by her recital as I might otherwise have been.
+
+"And what about the child?" I asked.
+
+"The boy? Oh, Treevor, he died very soon after. He caught cold from
+his father, I think."
+
+"Did he die of cold and cough, too, then?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, he coughed till he died. Oh, I cried so much when he died. My
+baby boy, my very big baby, I did love him so."
+
+She blinked her glorious eyes very much as if they were full of tears
+at the recollection, but I did not see any fall, and she pursued her
+supper without any interruption of appetite.
+
+I sat back in my chair, watching her and musing. Poor old Hop Lee! I
+wondered what his last moments had been like, and whether those dainty
+fingers had really been employed smoothing his brow, or counting his
+effects, at the last?
+
+"And then what came after?" I asked. "How did it come that you were to
+be sold, as you said?"
+
+"We were very poor when he died; so poor, and we owed a lot, and his
+brother came up from Juneau and took over the tea-shop and everything.
+Then he said he had offer from big Chinaman who would buy me, and he
+said my husband owe him lot of money, he sell me, get it back, and he
+sent me down to Nanine in 'Frisco to give to big Chinaman; but I told
+Nanine you would give more, so Nanine kept me for you."
+
+"But how will your husband's brother get the money for you in that
+case?" I said.
+
+"What a lot of questions you do ask, Treevor!" she returned sulkily.
+"I don't know how he will get the money. He will make Nanine give him
+some, I suppose. Let us forget it all, I don't want to think of that
+any more."
+
+I laughed.
+
+"Very well. If you have finished your supper, come over here and sit
+on my knee and we will forget it all, as you say."
+
+She rose willingly and came over to me, a lovely, shimmering, Oriental
+vision, dainty and perfect.
+
+"I must paint you, Suzee, some day just as you appear now and call you
+The Beauty of China, or something like that. You seem the joy of the
+East incarnate."
+
+Suzee frowned and then smiled.
+
+"I do not like such long words. I do not understand you when you talk
+like that; but I love you, Treevor, so, so much."
+
+The misty light of dawn was rolling over 'Frisco when I shewed Suzee
+her own room, where according to the pact with the manager, she was to
+sleep.
+
+She shivered as we went into it.
+
+"Oh, Treevor, what a great big room," she said; "I am frightened at
+it. Won't you stay with me? Or let me be in yours?"
+
+"I said you should sleep here," I answered; "so you must. Jump into
+bed quick and go to sleep; you will soon forget the size of the room.
+I am dead tired now, I must go and get some sleep myself. Good-night,
+dear."
+
+I kissed her and went back to the sitting-room. The morning light
+struggling with the artificial fell on the table with its scattered
+plates and glasses, and on her little trunk and the unpacked silken
+clothes.
+
+I turned out the lights and drew up the blinds, and stood looking out.
+The waves of soft white fog filled the empty streets. All was quiet,
+white, in the dawn.
+
+I had said I was tired, yet now sleep seemed far from my eyes, and my
+mind flew out over intervening space to Viola, longing to find her,
+wherever she was.
+
+Where would she be? I could imagine her waking with this same dawn in
+her calm, innocent bed, and gazing, too, into this white light, and
+longing for me. Surely she would be that? The words of her letter came
+back to me: the time would pass "slowly as a winter night to me, your
+Viola."
+
+She was right. Nothing could divide us permanently, really. Perhaps
+even Death would be powerless to do that.
+
+I had a dissatisfied feeling with myself. Would it have been better, I
+asked myself, to have waited through this year alone, since nothing
+could really satisfy or delight me in her absence? What was the good,
+after all, of chasing the mere shadow of the joy I had with her?
+
+But, strangely enough, I felt that Viola had no wish that I should
+pass this mysterious year of separation she had imposed upon us,
+alone.
+
+She had confessed her inability to share my love with any other. The
+incident of Veronica had made that clear; but now that she chose to
+deny herself to me she seemed rather to wish than otherwise that I
+should seek adventures, experiences elsewhere. And I felt
+indefinitely, yet strongly, that the more I could crush into this year
+of life and of artistic inspiration, especially the latter, the
+happier she would feel when we met.
+
+Perhaps she wished to tire me with lesser loves, certain that her own
+must prevail against them. Perhaps she had even left me solely for
+this, with this idea. Knowing herself unable to bear the pain of
+infidelity to her when she was present, yet, accepting it as tending
+to some ultimate psychological end, she had withdrawn herself from me.
+
+I remembered she had said once to me:
+
+"I would so much rather be a man's last love, the crowning love of
+his life, the one whose image would be with him as he passed from this
+world, than his first; poor little toy of his youth, forgotten,
+unheeded, effaced by the passions of his life at the zenith."
+
+Perhaps, ... but, ah! what was the use of speculation when it might
+all be wrong?
+
+Some reason was there, guiding that subtle mystery of her brain, and
+I, if I fulfilled her expressed wishes, was doing the utmost to carry
+out that plan of hers which I could not yet understand.
+
+A feeling of excessive weariness invaded me, mental and physical, and
+as the light grew stronger, breaking into day, I went to my own room
+to sleep.
+
+As soon as I woke I got up and went to look at my new possession. To
+my surprise the room seemed empty. I looked round. No Suzee. I went up
+to the bed. It had apparently not been slept in, but two of the
+blankets had been pulled off and disappeared.
+
+As I stood by the bedside, wondering what had become of her, I felt a
+soft kiss on my ankles and, looking down, there she was, creeping out
+from under the bed with one of the blankets round her. Her hair was a
+lovely undisarranged mass; but the rosebuds in it were dead, and it
+was dusty. Her face looked like white silk in its youthful pallor. She
+smiled up delightedly at me and crawled out farther from the bed
+valance.
+
+"What are you doing down there?" I asked. "Wasn't the bed
+comfortable?"
+
+"Oh yes, Treevor, underneath I was very comfortable and warm. You see,
+I have always been accustomed to something over my head, and in this
+room the ceiling is such a long way off."
+
+She got up and stood before me, her rounded shoulders and sweetly
+moulded arms shewing above the blanket.
+
+"You don't mind, do you?" she added, with a note of quick anxiety.
+
+I laughed as I remembered the low ceilings, almost on one's head, that
+are the rule in Chinatown, and caught her up in my arms.
+
+"No, I don't mind," I said; "only get into bed now, and don't shew
+that you have slept underneath instead of inside. I am going to order
+breakfast and I will call you in a minute or two."
+
+I threw her on to the bed, into which she rolled like a kitten, kissed
+her, and went back to my own room.
+
+When we had had breakfast I took Suzee with me on the car, and all the
+eyes of its occupants fixed upon us for the whole of the journey. This
+was harmless, however, and I did not mind, while Suzee sat apparently
+sublimely unconscious of the rude stares and ruder smiles, with the
+calm gravity of the Oriental who is above insults because he considers
+himself above criticism.
+
+At the office where I went to buy tickets for our journey I was put to
+worse annoyance. I had taken tickets for two from 'Frisco to City of
+Mexico when the clerk, looking suddenly from me to my childish
+companion, said: "We can't give you a section,[A] sir."
+
+"Why not?" I demanded.
+
+"Only married couples," he remarked tersely, and turned away.
+
+I told Suzee to go outside, and went to another part of the office,
+bought my section ticket from another clerk while the first was
+engaged, and then joined her. I began to realise that petty
+difficulties would line the path the whole way, and I must make some
+effort to minimise them.
+
+We went to a café for lunch, and after seating ourselves at a table a
+little away from the staring crowd, I said: "I expect it would be
+better if we got you some American clothes."
+
+"Very well, Treevor," she returned docilely, and leant her pretty,
+round, ivory-hued cheek on her hand as she looked across at me
+adoringly. Had I suggested cutting off her head, I believe she would
+have looked the same.
+
+"We must try after lunch to get some," I continued. "And don't be too
+submissive to me in public. You see, it's not at all the fashion with
+us for wives to be that way, and it makes people think you are not
+mine."
+
+Suzee laughed gaily: the idea seemed to amuse her.
+
+After lunch we went to one of the large stores, and Suzee, in her
+scarlet silk attracted of course general attention. We found, however,
+a sensible saleswoman to whom I explained that I wanted a grey
+travelling costume, and she and Suzee disappeared from me entirely,
+into the fitting-room.
+
+Left alone, I swung myself back on a chair and lapsed into thought.
+
+When Suzee at last came back an exclamation broke from me. She was
+spoilt. Lovely as she seemed in her own picturesque clothing, in the
+rough grey cloth of hideous Western dress she looked simply a little
+guy. Reading my face at a glance, her own clouded instantly, and in
+another second she would have thrown herself at my feet had I not
+warned her by a look and a gesture not to. I sprang up and turned to
+the saleswoman.
+
+"Is this the best, the prettiest costume you have?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir. You see it's so difficult to fit the young lady without any
+corsets, and she is really so short we have only a few skirts that
+will do for her."
+
+I looked at Suzee as she stood before me. The figure, so exquisite in
+its lines when unclothed, looked too soft and shapeless under the
+cloth coat. She appeared absurdly short, too, beside the American
+assistant, who stood at least five feet eleven. I could not bear to
+see my little Suzee so disfigured. However, that she looked far more
+ordinary could not be disputed. She would attract less attention now,
+and that might be an advantage. Her head was still bare and had its
+Oriental character, but the colour of her skin against the grey cloth
+lost its creaminess that it had possessed above the blue silk jacket.
+It now looked merely sallow.
+
+I paid nine guineas for the hideous dress, ordered the silk clothes to
+be sent to the hotel, and then we went on to the millinery. Amongst
+these frightful edifices my heart sank still more, but I steeled
+myself to the ordeal, and, choosing out the simplest grey one I could
+find, directed the giggling young shop-assistant to try it on Suzee.
+
+The immense coiffure of shining black hair of the Chinese girl did not
+lend itself to any Western hat. Hat and hair together made her head
+appear out of proportion to the small, short figure.
+
+At last, in despair, I said:
+
+"You must alter your hair and do it in a different way. Could you take
+it down now and roll it up small at the back, do you think?"
+
+Suzee gazed on me in mild surprise.
+
+"Take my hair down, here and now! Why, it's done up for a fortnight!"
+she answered simply, while the shop-girl turned away to replace a hat
+and hide her titters.
+
+"Do you only do your hair once a fortnight?" I enquired, surprised in
+my turn.
+
+"Yes, that's all. It's such a bother to do. It was done just before
+you came. I thought it would do for a month, I took such pains with
+it."
+
+A month! So that beautiful, scented, shining coiffure was only brushed
+out once a month!
+
+A sudden memory of Viola and her gleaming light tresses swept over me,
+as I had seen them at night lying on her shoulders. But had I not
+often waited for her till I was deadly sleepy, and when at length she
+came to the bedside and I had asked her what she had been doing all
+that time, had she not generally said--"brushing her hair"?
+
+Perhaps, after all, a coiffure that never detained its owner at night
+except once a month might have its advantages.
+
+By the time these reflections had swept over me, Suzee herself had
+found a little grey velvet hat that looked less dreadful than the
+rest. I had only to pay for it, which I did, and she walked away with
+me in her Western clothes. At the glove counter things went well, and
+she triumphed over her civilised sisters. Her tiny supple hands were
+easily fitted by number five, and tired and thirsty with our efforts
+we left the store and found our way to a tea-shop.
+
+The change in dress made matters easier. She did not attract much
+notice now; and unless any one looked very closely at her, she would
+pass for any little ordinary, unattractive European girl. It rather
+ruffled my vanity to think she should look like this, but I consoled
+myself with thinking of the evening, when the hideous disguise could
+be laid aside and she would appear again in her amber beauty and I
+could pose her in a hundred ways.
+
+We had several cups of tea apiece. Very good I found it, though Suzee
+somewhat disdainfully remarked it was not like China tea; and then
+returned to the hotel.
+
+As I passed through the swing doors with my reclothed and much altered
+companion, the proprietor came hastily forwards with protestation
+written on his face. He evidently thought I had erred again and this
+was another investment. He was about to impart vigorously his opinion
+of me when a hasty glance at Suzee's face and my bland look of enquiry
+stopped him. Instead of addressing us, he wheeled round discomfited
+and disappeared into his bureau.
+
+"Why does that man always look so crossly at you?" enquired Suzee, as
+we were walking down the passage to our rooms.
+
+"He does not approve of my wickedness in having you here," I answered
+laughing. "He thinks a man must never be with any woman but his wife."
+
+"And has he a wife?"
+
+"Yes, that great creature you saw sitting in the glass desk
+downstairs."
+
+Suzee threw up her chin and pursed up her soft blue-red lips.
+
+"I know that man by sight quite well. He was always down with the
+girls in Chinatown. He was one of Nanine's best customers."
+
+I laughed as I put the key in, and opened our door.
+
+"That accounts then, quite, for his terrific propriety in his hotel,"
+I answered. "It's always the way. You can tell the really vicious
+person by his affected horror of vice."
+
+We dined upstairs, and directly after dinner I got her to pose for me
+that I might catch the first idea for my picture "The Joy of the
+East."
+
+She still shewed an apparently unconquerable objection to any undraped
+study, so I did not press it, but told her to dress as she had been
+dressed the previous night, in blue and mauve with silver ornaments,
+and I would take her in that.
+
+While she was arraying herself I sat back in my chair, thinking.
+
+How strange it was that a girl like Viola, who I believed would have
+been burnt alive rather than let an untruth pass her lips, who could
+not possibly have done a dishonourable action, had posed for me so
+simply and fearlessly, viewing the whole matter from that artistic
+standpoint which is so lofty because so really pure; and this girl,
+whose soul, as I knew, was full of trickery and treachery, and whose
+lips were worn with lies, clothed herself about with this ridiculous
+prudery and imagined it was modesty!
+
+She came back presently, wonderfully lovely in the bizarre Oriental
+costume, and I wanted her to stand on tiptoe, leaning towards me and
+laughing.
+
+But she was not a good model; she soon grew tired and failed to keep
+the same pose or expression. She fidgeted so, that at last I laid the
+paper aside.
+
+"Your expression won't go with that title," I said. "What is the
+matter? Can't you stand still and look happy for fifteen minutes?"
+
+"It's so tiring to stand quite still," she said crossly, and my heart
+reproached me as I thought of Viola and the hours she had stood for me
+without a word of complaint in the London studio!
+
+"Well, I'll try another picture. I shall call it 'The Spoiled
+Favourite of the Harem,' Throw yourself into that chair and look as
+cross as you like."
+
+Suzee sat down opposite me. I put her head back against the chair; her
+right arm hung over the side, in her left hand she held a cigarette,
+one foot was bent under her, the other swung listlessly to the ground.
+
+Her expression, restless and dissatisfied, her attitude, weary and
+enervated, gave the idea of the title admirably, and I made a good
+sketch.
+
+She was sitting down now so she could keep still without much
+difficulty, and her air of _ennui_ suited this theme well enough.
+
+As soon as I had finished the sketch and told her she might get up she
+was delighted. She did not seem to take much interest in the picture,
+however, but rather regard it grudgingly as it took up my attention.
+She was only happy again when I took her on my knees and caressed her,
+telling her she was the loveliest Eastern I had ever seen.
+
+The following day we started on our journey southward.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote A: Sleeping berth for two persons in the Pullman car.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+IN THE SHADOW OF THE VOLCANO
+
+
+The journey down to the City of Mexico, in itself, was a delight to
+me, and I felt how infinitely more I could have enjoyed it had Viola
+been with me.
+
+My present companion did not seem able to appreciate any but physical
+beauty. If a good looking man came on board the train she glanced over
+him, demurely enough, but with the eye of a connoisseur. The glorious
+beauty, however, of the painted skies and magnificent stretches of
+open country we were passing through affected her not at all.
+
+For four days, on either side of the train, America unrolled before us
+her vast tracts of entrancing beauty, from which I could hardly tear
+my gaze, and this little almond-eyed doll sat in a lump on the seat
+opposite me yawning and fidgeting, or else reading some childish book;
+or spent the time at the other end of the car playing with some
+American children on board the train.
+
+I did not intend to have my journey spoilt by her, so I gave my own
+attention to the scene and told her to go and play, if she wished, or
+buy oranges and pictures from the train-venders, do anything she
+liked, in fact, as long as she did not disturb me and prevent my
+taking a pleasure in the beauty she could not see.
+
+Suzee, annoyed at my admiration of something she could not
+appreciate, was mostly sulky and pettish through the day, regaining
+her good temper at night when we retired into our section.
+
+As a toy to caress, to fondle, she was enchanting. Nature had
+apparently made her for that and for nothing else. Her extreme youth,
+her beauty, her joy in love, made her irresistible at such moments.
+And as I was young, at the height of youth's powers and desires, our
+relations in that way held a great deal of pleasure for us both.
+
+But that was the limit. Beyond this there was nothing.
+
+That exquisite mental companionship, that sharing of every thought and
+idea, that constant conversation on all sorts of subjects that
+interested us both, all this which I had had with Viola, and which
+filled so perfectly those intervals when the tired senses ask for, and
+can give, no more pleasure, was completely absent here.
+
+That delight in beauty which is to an artist as much a part of his
+life as another man's delight in food or wine Viola had shared with me
+in an intense degree.
+
+And sharing any of the delights of life with one we love enhances them
+enormously. One can easily imagine a gourmand being dissatisfied with
+his wife if she resolutely refused to share any of his meals!
+
+Now, as I gazed through the windows of the slow-moving train and saw
+the long blue lines of the level-topped hills, the deep purple edges
+of the vast table-lands rising against the amber or the blood red
+evening skies, I longed for Viola with that inward longing of the soul
+which nothing but the presence of its own companion can satisfy.
+
+One evening, as I gazed out, the whole prairie was bathed in
+rose-coloured light that appeared to ripple over it in pink waves. The
+tall grass, tall as that of an English hay-field, seemed touched with
+fire; far on every side stretched the open plain, absolutely level,
+bounded at last in the far distance by that deep purple wall of
+mountains, flat-topped, level-lined also, against the sky, the great
+mesas or table-lands of Mexico.
+
+And in this vast expanse of waving grasses and low flowering shrubs,
+in the pink glow of the evening, stood out two graceful forms, a pair
+of coyotes, distinct against the sunset behind them. Only these two
+were visible in all that great lonely plain, and they stood together
+watching the train go by, their sinuous bodies and low sweeping tails
+touched and tipped with fire in the ruby light.
+
+How delighted Viola would have been with that scene, I thought
+regretfully, as the train carried us through it.
+
+When we arrived at the City of Mexico, we drove to the Hotel Iturbide
+and took a room high up on the third floor, to be well lifted out of
+the suffocating atmosphere of the streets.
+
+Suzee was a little overawed by the height of the long, narrow room
+that we had assigned to us in this, at one time, palace, but when she
+saw that the bed was comfortable and there was a large mirror before
+which she could array and re-array herself, she was satisfied.
+
+I saw the room would be a very difficult one to paint in, for it was
+dark in spite of the tall window which opened on to an iron balcony
+running across the front of the hotel.
+
+The window was draped with thick red curtains and had a deep, handsome
+cornice hanging over it.
+
+Suzee went on to the balcony immediately and was delighted with the
+incessant stream of gaily dressed people passing underneath. This was
+the main street of the city. Not very wide, flanked with lofty, old,
+picturesquely built houses on each side, of which the lower part was
+often shop or restaurant, it presented somewhat the same heavy, gloomy
+appearance as the streets in Italian towns. The air was thick,
+dust-laden, and evil-smelling, for the City of Mexico, though at an
+elevation of 8,000 feet, has none of the crisp, healthful clearness,
+usually to be found at that altitude. Built over the bed of an
+enormous dried up lake, in the centre of an elevated table-land, it
+is, even at the present day, badly drained and unhealthy.
+
+We had some tea brought up to us and took it at a little table drawn
+close to the window,--Suzee chattering away to me of the delights of
+this new big city--as big as 'Frisco, she thought. And what gay hats
+the women wore! She saw them passing underneath. Would I not take her
+out to the shops and buy a great big white muslin hat like theirs,
+covered with pink roses?
+
+I promised I would, watching her with a smile.
+
+She was certainly very lovely just now. She seemed to have bloomed
+into fairer beauty than she had possessed at Sitka.
+
+Doubtless her gratified passion and happy relations with me helped to
+this result, for a woman's beauty depends almost wholly on her inner
+life, the life of her emotions and passions.
+
+After tea we went downstairs, hired a carriage, and drove to the
+Paseo--or laid-out drive--which is the thing to do in Mexico at that
+hour; and to follow the custom of the country you are in is the first
+golden rule of the traveller who would enjoy himself.
+
+It was about six o'clock, and darkness was closing in on the thick,
+dust-filled air as we drove with the stream of other vehicles of all
+descriptions, from the poorest hired carriage to the most splendidly
+appointed barouche, into the Paseo, a wide, sweeping drive, lined each
+side with trees and lighted with rows of electric arc-light lamps,
+some of which glowed pinkly or sputtered out blue rays in the dusk.
+
+It has never seemed to me a very cheerful matter, this drive between
+the lights in the formal Paseo, this great string of carriages drawn
+mostly by poor unhappy horses and filled with dressed-up women who
+stare rudely at each other as they pass and re-pass, solemn and silent
+ghosts in a world of grey shadow!
+
+But the fashion amongst the Mexican women of painting and powdering to
+an inordinate degree perhaps accounts for their love of this hour
+between the lights, when they imagine the falseness of their
+complexion cannot be detected.
+
+After about an hour's drive we came back, the great arc-lights now
+sending their uncertain, shifting glare across the road and serving to
+show the heavy dust through which we moved. Seen sideways, the ray of
+light looked solid, so thick was the atmosphere.
+
+When we came back we dined, and then sat outside our window on the
+iron balcony, looking down at the gay scene below.
+
+The street was fully lighted now by powerful lamps of electricity,
+some belonging to the roadway, others hung out over restaurants and
+shops. The latter were all open, having been closed through the middle
+of the day. The cafés and restaurants were in full swing, half the
+populace seemed in the street, either walking or driving.
+
+"We will go to a theatre as soon as they open," I said. "I don't think
+any of them begin till half-past nine or ten."
+
+Suzee clapped her hands.
+
+"That will be nice, Treevor," she said.
+
+"I did like the theatre in Chinatown. I went with Nanine sometimes."
+
+So at half-past nine we drove to a theatre. The performance began at
+ten o'clock and continued till one in the morning, with a break in the
+middle for supper.
+
+It was a light musical farce, well acted and sung, and I enjoyed it.
+
+Suzee looked on profoundly silent, and seemed to be quite wide-awake
+all through it. Just before one o'clock she leant to me and whispered:
+
+"When does the killing begin?"
+
+"Killing?" I returned. "I don't think there'll be any, what do you
+mean?"
+
+"Oh," she said, "in Chinese theatres there is always very much
+killing; every one's head comes off at the end."
+
+I laughed.
+
+"You little monster," I whispered; "is that what you came to see?"
+Suzee nodded.
+
+"All Chinese plays like that," she answered.
+
+We waited till the curtain fell, but there was no killing and all the
+heads were left on at the end. Suzee looked quite disappointed, and
+explained to me as we were driving away that that was no play at all.
+
+The next morning we were up very late, and after breakfast in our room
+there was only time to drive out to the shops and buy for Suzee one of
+the hats she coveted before luncheon.
+
+All Orientals have a wonderful, artistic instinct for fabrics and
+colours, and always, when left alone, clothe themselves with exquisite
+taste. But this instinct seems to desert them when brought amongst
+European manufactures and into the sphere of European tints. Suzee now
+chose an enormous white hat wreathed round with poppies and
+cornflowers that I certainly should not have chosen for her. However,
+it pleased and satisfied her, and she was in great good-humour in
+consequence.
+
+I found some letters for me at the hotel, forwarded from the club. My
+heart sank as I saw there was none from Viola. I thought she might
+have written again....
+
+There was one from a friend of mine who was attached to the embassy
+here, and he asked me to go and dine with him that evening, or name
+some other, if I were engaged that day.
+
+I looked up at Suzee.
+
+"I have an invitation here to go out to dinner," I said to her; "do
+you think you can amuse yourself without me this evening?"
+
+Suzee looked sulky.
+
+"You are going out all the evening without me? Can't I come too?"
+
+"I am afraid not," I answered.
+
+"Why? Is it a woman you are going to?"
+
+"No, it is not," I answered a little sharply.
+
+How different this sulky questioning was from Viola's bright way of
+assenting to any possible suggestion of mine for my own amusement or
+benefit!
+
+How different from this her quick:
+
+"Oh yes, do go, Trevor, do not think about me, I shall be quite happy
+looking forward to your coming back!"
+
+Suzee pushed out her lips.
+
+"How long will you be?" she asked.
+
+"I shall go just before seven and return about ten," I answered. "You
+must get accustomed to amusing yourself. I can't always be with you."
+
+"I can amuse myself," returned Suzee sulkily. "All the same, I believe
+it's a woman you are going to."
+
+The blood rushed over my face with anger and annoyance, but I
+restrained myself and made no answer. She was so much of a child, it
+seemed absurd to enter into argument or to get angry with her.
+
+I went back to reading my other letters and occupied myself with
+answering them till luncheon.
+
+That evening about seven I was dressing for dinner, Suzee standing by
+me or playing with my things and somewhat impeding me, as usual. She
+seemed to have recovered from her ill-temper and was all smiles and
+gay prattle.
+
+Before I took up my hat and coat to leave I bent over her and kissed
+her.
+
+"You understand, I don't want you to leave this room till I come back.
+They will bring up your dinner here, and you can sit on the balcony
+and smoke, and you have lots of picture-books to amuse you. I shall be
+back at ten."
+
+She kissed me and smiled and promised not to leave the room, and I
+went out.
+
+I really enjoyed the evening with my friend. It was a relief to talk
+again with one who possessed a full-grown mind after being so long
+with a childish companion, and the time passed pleasantly enough. A
+quarter to ten seemed to come directly after dinner and my companion
+was astonished at my wanting to leave so early.
+
+I explained the situation in a few words and, of course, caused
+infinite amusement to my practical friend.
+
+"The idea of you living with a Chinese infant like that!" he
+exclaimed. "I shall hear of your being fascinated with a Hottentot
+next, I suppose."
+
+"Maybe," I answered, putting on my hat. "Anyway, I must go now; thanks
+all the same for wishing me to stay."
+
+I left him and walked rapidly back in the direction of the Iturbide.
+Some of the shops were still open, and as I passed down the main
+street the brilliant display in a jeweller's window, under the
+electric light, attracted my attention.
+
+I paused and looked in. I thought I would buy and take back some
+little thing to Suzee. It had been a dull evening for her. I went in
+and chose a necklet of Mexican opals. These, though not so lovely as
+the sister stone we generally buy in England, have a rich red colour
+and fire all their own.
+
+I had not enough money with me to pay for it, but with that delightful
+confidence in an Englishman--often unfortunately misplaced--one finds
+in some distant countries, the shopman insisted on my taking it, and
+said he would send to the hotel in the morning for the money.
+
+I slipped the case in my pocket and went on to the Iturbide.
+
+After all, I thought, as I neared home, with all her faults she was a
+very attractive and dear little companion to be going back to.
+
+Full of pleasure at the thought of bestowing the gift and the joy it
+would give her, I ran up the stone stairs without waiting for the lift
+and pushed open the door of our room.
+
+I entered softly, thinking she might be curled up asleep, but as I
+crossed the threshold I heard the sound of laughter. The next moment I
+saw there were two figures standing at the end of the long room in
+front of the window.
+
+Suzee had her back to me and a man was standing beside her. Just as I
+came in I saw her raise her face, and the man put his arm round her
+and kiss her. Two or three steps carried me across the room and I
+struck them apart with a blow on the side of the man's head that sent
+him reeling into a corner.
+
+It was the young Mexican waiter that had hitherto brought us all our
+meals.
+
+The table was still covered with the dinner things, a bottle of wine
+stood on it and two half-filled glasses. My impression, gathered in
+that first furious glance, was that he had brought up her dinner and
+she had invited him to stay and share at least the wine and
+cigarettes. Some of these lay on the table, and the room was full of
+smoke.
+
+Suzee gave a scream of terror and then crouched down on a chair,
+looking at me.
+
+The waiter picked himself up, and, catching hold of his iron
+stove-fitted basket in which he had brought up the dinner, slunk out
+of the room.
+
+I was left alone with Suzee, and I looked at her, with an immense
+sense of disgust and repulsion swelling up in me.
+
+"So you can't even be trusted an hour or two, it seems," I said
+contemptuously, throwing myself into a chair opposite her.
+
+Suzee began to sob. Tears were her invariable refuge under all
+circumstances.
+
+"Treevor, you were so long. I was all alone, and I was sure you were
+with another woman."
+
+"If you would learn to believe what I say and not fancy every one
+tells lies, as I suppose you do," I answered hotly, "it would be a
+great deal better for you. I went to dine with a bachelor friend this
+evening, as I told you, and what made me later than I otherwise should
+have been was that I stopped to buy a present for you on my way back."
+
+Suzee's tears dried instantly.
+
+"A present! Oh, what is it, Treevor?" she said eagerly. "Do show it
+me. Where is it?"
+
+I drew the case out of my pocket and opened it. The electric light
+flashed on the opals, and they blazed with orange and tawny fires on
+the white velvet.
+
+Suzee gave a little cry of wonder and delight, and then sat staring at
+them breathlessly.
+
+"I don't feel at all inclined to give them to you now," I remarked
+coldly.
+
+"Oh, yes, Treevor, _do_ let me have them. It was all the man's fault.
+I did not want him. I could not help it."
+
+"I heard you laughing as I came in," I returned, more than ever
+disgusted by her lies and her throwing all the blame on her companion.
+"It's no use lying to me, Suzee, you found that out at Sitka. What I
+want to make clear to you is this: if I find you doing this sort of
+thing again I shall send you away from me altogether, because I won't
+have it."
+
+Suzee looked terror-stricken.
+
+"Send me away! But what could I do? Where could I go?"
+
+"Where you pleased! You would not live any more with me."
+
+"Well, Treevor, I will not do it any more," she answered, her eyes
+fixed on the jewels. "Do let me have the necklace. May I put it on?"
+
+And she stretched out her hand to grasp it from the table where I had
+laid it. Her avarice, her lack of any real deep feeling about the
+matter, filled me with irrepressible anger.
+
+I sprang to my feet and snatched the necklet up, case and all, and
+flung it through the window.
+
+"No, you shall certainly not have it," I exclaimed.
+
+Suzee gave a shriek of pain and dismay as she saw the beloved jewels
+flash through the air and disappear in the darkness, and rushed to the
+window as if she would jump after them.
+
+Fearing she might call to the passers-by below and create a
+disturbance, I took her by the shoulder and pulled her back into the
+room.
+
+Then I shut the window and bolted it above her head.
+
+I walked over to the door of the room.
+
+"You had better go to bed," I said; "do not wait for me, I shall sleep
+elsewhere."
+
+Then I went out and locked the door behind me, putting the key in my
+pocket.
+
+I went down the passage slowly. My heart was beating fast and I felt
+angry, but the anger was not that deep fierce agony of emotion I had
+felt at times when Viola angered or grieved me.
+
+It was more a superficial sensation of disgust and repulsion that
+filled me, and, after a few minutes, I grew calm and recovered my
+self-possession.
+
+"What could I expect from a girl like this?" I asked myself. "What
+could I expect but lies and deceit and trickery and infidelity? She
+had shewn me all these at Sitka when I first met her."
+
+I had been willing enough to profit by them, but even then they had
+disgusted me. Now I was in the position of Hop Lee, and as she had
+treated him so would she treat me. It was true she professed to love
+me, and did so in her way. But it was the way of the woman who is
+bought and sold.
+
+And why should I feel specially repelled because I had found her with
+a servant? Had she not come from a tea-shop in Sitka, where she
+herself was serving?
+
+The Mexican boy was handsome enough. Doubtless he presented a
+temptation to her.
+
+It was all my own fault, everything that had happened or would happen,
+for choosing such an unsuitable companion. The light loves of an hour
+with painted butterflies such as Suzee are well enough, but for life
+together one must seek and find one's equal, one who sees with the
+same eyes, who has the same standard as one's own of the fitness of
+things, in whose veins runs blood of the same quality as one's own.
+
+Why had Viola left me? The thought came with a pang of anguish as my
+heart called out for her.
+
+The corridor was a lofty one of stone. It was quite empty now and
+unlighted. I walked on slowly in the dark till I came to a large
+window on my right hand. This window overlooked a wide expanse of lead
+roofs belonging to the lower stories of the hotel, and these commanded
+a magnificent view of the whole city.
+
+I stepped out over the low sill and stood on the leads. The night was
+soft and cool. The sky, full of the light of a rising moon, shewed
+beautifully, against its luminous violet, the outlines of dome and
+minaret and spire, and far out beyond the crowded city's confines, the
+two incomparable mountains, Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl, the huge
+volcanoes, shrouded in eternal snow, rising a sheer ten thousand feet
+from the level plain, standing like sentinels guarding the city.
+
+It was a magnificent panorama that surrounded me, a view to remember
+for all time. Dome upon dome, rising one behind the other, of all
+sizes and shapes, their beautiful tiles gleaming here and there as the
+light from the rising moon touched them, delicate spires, pointing
+upwards, tipped with silver light, low roof of the commoner's dwelling
+and pillared façade of old and stately palace intervening, and, far
+away, those cold white, solitary peaks overtopping all else, rising
+into the region of the stars, made up a grand, impressive scene.
+
+As I looked all sense of petty annoyance dropped from me. I walked
+forwards with a grateful sense of relief and took my seat on a
+projecting ledge of one of the roofs and let my eyes wander over the
+maze of dim outlines and shapes below me.
+
+How strange it was to think of the past history of the city!
+
+Far back in the dim ages, a clear and glorious lake had lain here
+where now the city reared itself so majestically. In the centre of
+this vast table-land, eight thousand feet above the sea, the blue
+waters rested tranquilly, reflecting in their surface the fires and
+the flames of those now silent, burnt-out volcanoes.
+
+The lake was inhabited by the lake-dwellers, quaint little people
+living in their curious structures built on poles sunk in the water.
+There they fished and made their nets and traded with each other,
+passing backwards and forwards in their tiny dug-outs--whole crafts
+made from a single hollowed-out log--on the gleaming waters, secure
+from the raids of wild beasts or savages that the black, impenetrable
+forests on the shore might harbour.
+
+Then came the Toltecs and the Aztecs with their refinement, their
+civilisation, and the lake dried gradually through the years, and
+causeways were built across the swamp, and one by one dwellings
+appeared on the hardest, driest places, and step by step there grew to
+be a city. Then came the Spaniards in later days, with the flaming
+pomp of religion and the loathsome spirit of cruelty. They killed the
+people by thousands with torture, and set up their churches to peace
+and good-will. They overthrew the temples with murder and slaughter,
+and reared altars to the Most High on the blood-soaked earth.
+
+And this city, as we see it to-day, with its countless beautiful
+churches, its exquisite tiled domes flashing in the sun, is the work
+of the Spaniards. And each church stands there to commemorate their
+awful crimes.
+
+I sat on, as the hours passed, and watched the moon rise till it
+poured its flood of silver light all over the city, sat thinking on
+the horror of man and wondering what strange law has fashioned him to
+be the devil he is.
+
+Towards sunrise, the wind blew cold off the marshes round the city,
+and I went in and down to the lower floor of the hotel.
+
+Its world was fast asleep. In the hall I saw two Mexican porters in
+their thin white clothes, curled up on the door mat, without covering
+or pillow, fast asleep.
+
+I made my way to the little-used reception-room, found my way across
+it to a wide old couch, threw myself upon it, and closed my eyes. The
+couch smelt musty and the room seemed cold, but I was accustomed to
+sleep anyhow and anywhere, and in a few moments, with my thoughts on
+Viola, I drifted into oblivion.
+
+At breakfast time the next day I went to the administrador and told
+him to send up ours by another waiter, and never to allow the former
+one to come into our room again. Then I went upstairs to Suzee. As I
+unlocked the door and entered I saw she was up and dressed. She came
+to me, looking white and frightened.
+
+"Oh, Treevor, do forgive me, I never will again. Only say you forgive
+me. I was so frightened all last night, I thought you had locked me up
+here to starve."
+
+Again the absence of deep feeling, of any ethical consideration
+prompting her contrition, jarred upon me. She would be good because
+she did not want to starve or be otherwise punished. That was her view
+of it, and that alone.
+
+I bent over her, took her hand, and kissed her.
+
+"We needn't think of it any more," I said gently. "Only you must
+remember if such a thing occurs again, we cease to live together,
+that's all."
+
+Suzee reiterated her promises with effusion, and presently an old,
+grey-haired waiter appeared with our breakfast.
+
+I could not repress a smile as I saw the administrador had determined
+to be on the safe side this time.
+
+Suzee was extremely amiable and docile all that day.
+
+Most women who do not shew gratitude for kindness and consideration,
+when the man retaliates or shews any harshness, begin to improve
+wonderfully; while a delicate nature like Viola's, that responds to
+love and gives devotion in return, would meet that same harshness with
+passionate resentment. Suzee sincerely mourned her lost jewels and
+gazed wistfully and furtively down into the street where they had
+gone in the darkness.
+
+I paid the bill for them that day, but I never knew what became of
+them, nor whose neck they now adorn!
+
+The following day was Sunday, the day appointed by the Prince of
+Peace, and dedicated here by his followers, the Christians, to the
+torture and slaughter of their helpless companions in this world--the
+animals. Sunday, throughout Mexico, is the day most usually fixed for
+a bull-fight, and to-day there was going to be one, and Suzee had
+begged me to take her to see it.
+
+I had hesitated, but finally given in, and taken seats for it.
+
+I felt a strong disinclination to witnessing what I knew would be
+merely another example of the loathsome barbarity of the human race,
+but it was my rule in life to see and study its different aspects, to
+add to my knowledge of it whenever possible, and so I consented with a
+sense of repulsion within me. Suzee was in the wildest delight. She
+had talked to the waiter, it seemed, and had heard from him wonderful
+stories of the big crowds of gaily dressed people in the large ring,
+of the music, of the gaily dressed toreadors, of the clapping of hands
+and the shouting.
+
+"And you feel no sympathy with the bull that is going to be killed or
+the unfortunate horses?" I asked, looking across at her as we sat at
+luncheon.
+
+Suzee looked grave.
+
+"I didn't think of that," she said.
+
+The great fault of the less guilty half of humanity--it does not
+think! and the other half thinks evil.
+
+"Well, think now," I said sharply. "Would you like to have your inside
+torn out for a gaping crowd to laugh at, to be tortured to death for
+their Sunday diversion? For that is what you are going to see
+inflicted on the animals this afternoon."
+
+Suzee regarded me with a frightened air.
+
+Presently she said, glibly:
+
+"Of course not, Treevor, and I am very, very sorry for the poor
+animals if they are going to be hurt."
+
+"Of course they are," I said shortly; "that is what the whole city is
+going to turn out to see."
+
+I felt she had no real appreciation of the subject, and that any
+sympathetic utterance would be made to please me. How I hate being
+with a companion who automatically says what will please me! A servile
+compliance that one knows is false is more irritating to a person of
+intellect than contradiction.
+
+How different Viola had always been! In physical relations she had
+accepted me as her owner, master, conqueror. She had never sought to
+deny or evade or resent the physical domination Nature has given the
+male over the female. But her mind had been always her own. And what a
+glorious strength and independence it possessed! Not even to me would
+she ever have said what she did not believe.
+
+Like the old martyrs, she would have given herself to the rack or the
+flames rather than let her lips frame words her brain did not approve.
+
+Her mind and her opinions were her own, not to be bought from her at
+any price whatever, and, as such, they were worth something.
+
+The assent or dissent of the fool who agrees or disagrees from fear or
+love is worth nothing when you've got it.
+
+We finished our luncheon and then, in a hired carriage, drove to the
+Plaza de Toros.
+
+I, with a feeling of cold depression, Suzee, gaily dressed and in the
+highest spirits.
+
+All the city was streaming out in splendid carriage or miserable shay.
+Rich and cultured, poor and illiterate, human beings are all alike in
+their love of butchery and blood. We reached the great ragged stretch
+of open ground, hideous and bare enough, and the structure of the
+bull-ring reared itself before us, a sinister curve against the
+laughing blue of the sky.
+
+It seemed to hum like a great hive already; there was a crowd of the
+poorer class about it, and men came continually in and out of the
+little doors in its base.
+
+We dismissed our carriage at the outer edge of the ragged ground, the
+driver insisting he could drive no farther. And the moment we had
+alighted he turned his horses' heads and started them at a furious
+gallop back to the city in the hope of catching another fare.
+
+We walked forwards towards the principal of the wickets through which
+already the people were passing to their seats. In approaching the
+bull-ring we had to pass by a circle of little buildings, low dens
+with small barred windows and closed doors. Blood was trickling from
+under some of these over the brown and dusty earth, and the low, heavy
+breathing and groans of a horse in agony came from one or another at
+intervals.
+
+I looked through the grated slit of one, as I passed, and saw two men,
+or, rather, fiends in the shape of men, crouched on the floor of the
+dark and noisome den. Between them lay outstretched the body of a
+horse, old and thin, worn to the last gasp in the cruel service of the
+streets. On its flank was a long open wound. One of the men, bending
+over it, had a red-hot iron glowing in his hand. What they were going
+to do I could not tell, and I did not wait to see.
+
+The horse was one, doubtless, which unhappily had survived last
+Sunday's bull-fight, and was being horribly patched up, terribly
+stimulated by agony to expend its last spark of vitality in this.
+
+In these loathsome little dens this fiendish work goes on, the poor
+mangled brutes are brought out from the ring, their gaping wounds are
+plugged with straw, or anything that is at hand, and then they are
+thrust back on to the horns of the bull.
+
+More than ever filled with loathing of my kind, I passed on in silence
+towards the ring.
+
+It was no use speaking to Suzee. She could not understand what I felt.
+I thought of Viola. If she had been here, what would she have
+suffered? Of all women I had met, I had never known one who had the
+same exquisite compassion, the same marvellous sympathy for all living
+things as she had.
+
+We shewed our tickets, passed through the wicket, and were inside the
+vast circle.
+
+The impression on the eye as one enters is pleasing, or would be if
+one's brain were not there to tell one of the scenes of infamy that
+take place in that grand arena.
+
+Wide circles, great sweeping lines have always a certain fascination,
+and the form that charms one in the coliseum is here also in these
+modern imitations.
+
+The huge arena, empty now and clean, sprinkled with fine white sand,
+and with circle after circle, tier after tier of countless seats
+rising up all round, cutting at last the blue sky overhead, is in
+itself impressive.
+
+We passed to our seats, which were a little low down, not much raised
+above the level of the boarding running round the arena.
+
+They were on the coveted shady side of the ring, where the sun would
+not be in our eyes. On the left of us was the President's box;
+opposite, the seats of the common people, let cheap, because the sun's
+rays would fall on them through all the afternoon.
+
+These were already full. Occupied by _women_, largely _women_. Dressed
+in their gayest, with handkerchiefs in their hands ready to wave, with
+brightly painted fans, they sat there laughing, talking, eating
+sweets, making the ring in that quarter a flare of colour.
+
+Women! Ah, what a pity it is that there should be such women as these,
+stony-hearted, stony-eyed, deaf to the dictates of mercy, of pity.
+Women who can congregate with delight to see a fellow-creature die!
+
+For what are the animals but our fellow-creatures? With the same life,
+the same heart-beats as our own! With whom, if we acted rightly, we
+should share this world in kindly fellowship and love.
+
+The other seats in the shade were filling quickly; soon the whole mass
+of dizzy circles, one above the other, flamed with brilliant colour
+under the Mexican sun.
+
+Suddenly, with a great crash, the music burst out, and a triumphal
+march rolled over the arena as the President and his party arrived and
+took their places in their box. The people cheered and the
+handkerchiefs were waved, for the President is popular.
+
+Suzee sat in the greatest glee beside me. The vast concourse of
+people, the lavish colour, the loud, gay, strident music, the sea of
+faces and clapping hands and waving kerchiefs pleased her childish
+little soul.
+
+After a few moments the music changed, and to a slow, almost solemn
+march, the toreadors filed slowly in to the arena and bowed before the
+President's box.
+
+A burst of applause greeted their appearance, and Suzee watched
+entranced these men parading in the ring, in their various red, blue,
+and green velvet costumes fitting tightly their fine figures, with
+their gorgeous cloaks of red velvet thrown over one arm and the flat
+round hats of the toreadors sitting lightly above their bold handsome
+faces.
+
+They disappeared, there was a pause in the music, the great arena
+stood empty, the vast audience were silent, a few moments of waiting
+expectancy, then one of the low doors opposite us in the inner circle
+flew open, shewing a long black tunnel leading into darkness. From
+this came confused roarings and bellowings, and then with his head
+flung high and his great eyes starting with pain and rage from the
+goadings he had received, a glorious black Andalusian bull charged
+into the arena. The people, delighted at his size and strength and
+apparent ferocity, cheered and applauded loudly while, still further
+excited by the sudden glare of light and the deafening noise, the
+creature galloped round the sandy ring.
+
+Jet-black, sleek-coated, and with a long pair of slender, tapering
+horns, sharply pointed, crowning his great head, he was a magnificent
+animal, far finer in make and shape than any of these brutes round him
+who had come to see him die. As he galloped round the ring, I saw that
+he was looking wildly, eagerly, for somewhere to escape. The animals
+have no innate savagery, as man has. They do not love inflicting pain,
+torture, and death upon others. That vile instinct has been given to
+man alone. They kill for food. They fight for their mates. But no
+animal fights or kills for the love of blood as we do.
+
+And now this great monarch of the hills and plains, in all the pride
+and glory of his strength, had no wish to attack or kill; he bounded
+round and across the sandy space hoping to find some outlet, longing
+to be again upon his wild Andalusian hills he was never to see again.
+
+Another burst of music, a great fanfare of trumpets, and then slowly
+in triumphal procession the picadors, mounted bull-fighters with
+lances, entered the ring.
+
+Theoretically, when these men enter, the savage beast they are
+supposed to be encountering immediately makes a terrible charge upon
+them; but, as a matter of fact, the bull never wishes to fight or
+attack any one, and does not, until his brutal captors absolutely
+force him into doing so. That is why a bull-fight, as well as being
+hideously degrading and cruel, is also dull and tedious.
+
+If one were watching the grand natural passion of an animal fighting
+for his life on the prairie, against another, with an equal fortune of
+war for both, there would be excitement in it. But in this case one
+sees an unwilling animal tortured into a fight, which it neither seeks
+nor understands, and which it has from the start no chance of winning.
+
+In this case, as in all I have seen, the beautiful Andalusian, having
+made his gallop round the ring and finding no chance of escape, had
+subsided into a quiet trot and when the picadors entered he stood
+still, demurely regarding them from the opposite side of the arena.
+
+The sunlight fell full upon him, on his glossy sides and grand head,
+from which the noble, lustrous brown eyes looked out with benign and
+gentle dignity on the great multitude, the sandy space, and the
+picadors who were stealing slowly up to him.
+
+It is a difficult matter for the picador to approach the bull, for the
+horses shrink from the awful fate awaiting them, and only by plunging
+great spurs into their sides can their riders get them to advance.
+
+Anything more unutterably cowardly and despicably mean than the
+picador can hardly be imagined. Riding a poor, aged horse, generally
+one that has been wounded in a previous combat, and that is
+absolutely naked of all protection from the bull's horns, he is
+himself cased from head to foot in metal and leather, so that by no
+possibility can he be scratched.
+
+He comes into the ring with the deliberate intention of riding his
+tottering, naked horse on to the horns of the bull, and the greater
+number of these helpless creatures he can get mangled and
+disembowelled under him, the greater and finer picador he is and the
+more the people love him. Such is humanity!
+
+On this afternoon the bull eyed the horses' approach with no ill-will,
+he seemed to be reflecting--"Perhaps these are friends of mine and
+will show me the way out." But when at last the picador, having
+spurred his flinching horse close up to the bull's side, jabbed at his
+glossy neck with his lance and the pain convinced the great monarch
+they were hostile, he threw up his head with a snort and in a lithe,
+agile bound he passed by them and trotted quietly away.
+
+This enraged the people, and screams of "Coward! Coward!" went up from
+all parts of the ring.
+
+How they can twist into any semblance of cowardice the benignity of an
+animal that scorns to take any notice of what it sees is a feeble and
+puny opponent is amazing, a fit illustration of the weakness of the
+human intellect.
+
+As the bull continued his gentle trot, unmoved, the audience grew
+furious, and then began that tedious and utterly sickening chase of
+the unwilling bull by the faltering and unwilling horses.
+
+The bull, conscious of his great strength and absolutely fearless, had
+all that chivalry which seems inherent in animals and which is quite
+lacking in man in his attitude to them.
+
+As the unfortunate horses were ridden up to and across the face of the
+bull, he did his best to avoid them. Over and over again the picadors
+stabbed him with their lances and thrust their naked horses at his
+head, but his whole attitude and manner said plainly: "Why should I
+toss these poor old, trembling horses? I have no quarrel with them. I
+could kill them in a minute, but I don't want to."
+
+The screaming fiends above him yelled and cursed and tore pieces of
+wood from the seats to throw at him. Insults and invectives were
+showered on the picadors, until at last one of them, stung by the
+filthy abuse of the mob, drove his spurs so deep into his horse that
+the animal reared a little; the picador then, with spur and knee,
+almost lifted him on to the long pointed horns of the bull, who,
+forced back against the hoarding, had lowered his head in anger as the
+blood streamed from the lance wounds in his neck.
+
+Then there was the horrid, low sound of grating horn against the ribs
+of the horse, the ripping of the hide; the animal was lifted into the
+air a moment, then fell. There was a gush of blood on the sand, blood
+and entrails; with a groan it staggered quivering to its feet, made a
+step forwards, trod on its own trailing, bleeding insides, fell again,
+groaning with anguish, quivering convulsively.
+
+The people were delighted. They shouted and screamed and stood up on
+their seats and waved their kerchiefs, especially the women!
+
+The picador, who picked himself up unhurt--indeed, cased in armour, he
+could not well be otherwise--was cheered and cheered, and bowed and
+smiled and took off his cap and swept it to the ground. And the band
+crashed loudly to drown the terrible groaning of the dying horse,
+struggling in agony on the sand. The bull, sorry rather than otherwise
+apparently, walked away to another part of the ring, tossing his head
+in pain as the blood dripped from it.
+
+The people clapped delightedly. Suzee seeing all the women about her
+doing so, put up her little hands and clapped too.
+
+I bent towards her and caught them and held them down in her lap.
+
+"Be quiet," I said; "I won't have you clap such a disgusting sight."
+
+She stopped at once. A Mexican woman on my other hand, looked daggers
+at me for an instant, divining my words, but she was too eager to see
+all the blood and the anguish in the arena, not to miss a throe of the
+dying horse, to turn her eyes away for more than a moment.
+
+So, after a scowl at me, she directed them again, bulging with
+satisfaction, on the scene before her.
+
+From then on, for about an hour, the same hideous thing went on; horse
+after horse was brought forward, pushed on the horns of the bull, torn
+and mangled beneath its cowardly rider, and then, if completely ripped
+open, dragged dead or dying from the ring; if its wound was not large
+enough to cause instant death, stuff or straw was thrust into it by
+the attendants and the dying animal kicked, lashed, and dragged to its
+feet to be thrown again on to the sharp horns amidst the shouts and
+laughs of the delighted crowd.
+
+Once, in a general mêlée, when the bull and several picadors were in a
+tangled mass at one side of the ring, I saw one of these horses,
+terribly wounded, with its life pouring from it, emerge from the
+conflict and stagger unnoticed to the hoarding.
+
+It came close to the wall of the ring and looked over; its glazed,
+anguished eyes gazed from side to side as if asking: "Is there no
+escape, no mercy anywhere?"
+
+A spectator on the audience side of the hoarding raised his hand and
+struck it between the eyes. It tottered, staggered, and sank within
+the ring.
+
+Eight horses had now been rendered useless, the arena was black and
+red with blood, in spite of the assiduous sprinkling of fresh sand,
+and there was a pause in the entertainment. The picadors had had their
+turn, the banderilleros were ready to appear, but the people were
+thoroughly enjoying themselves now and they stamped and roared
+"Caballos" till they were hoarse. That horrid cry for more and more
+horses to be produced that alarms the administrador, or manager, of
+the bull-fight.
+
+In vain the attendants lashed and goaded the dying horses in the
+arena. They could not get them to their feet again. There is a limit
+to man's sway, the tortured life at last escapes him. The bodies were
+dragged away, more sand, and then the administrador himself, pale as
+ashes, stepped out before the audience howling for more blood.
+
+"Señors," he commenced, "it is impossible to supply more than eight
+horses for one bull; there are five more bulls to be dispatched. They
+are more savage than this one. I must keep horses for them. Let the
+señors be reasonable and allow the show to continue."
+
+At this promise of five more bulls there was general applause. The
+band rolled out fresh music. There was a thunder of drums and the
+banderilleros came on, gorgeous in velvet, glittering in spangle and
+tinsel.
+
+The bull is weary now and has lost much of his blood; as from the
+first, he only longs to escape from this ring, and the mad monkeys who
+are gibing and gibbering at him in it. They came forward with their
+fresh weapons, shafts and arrows of iron decked up with coloured
+ribbons, which they throw at him and which stick on his shoulders and
+in his sides, drawing streams of blood wherever they strike him.
+
+Maddened by those, he rushes at the flaming coats the men trail before
+his eyes; but the cruel little, dancing, monkey-like man with the
+cloak darts away before he can be touched, and at last, after repeated
+rushes and repeated failures, the grand creature stands still, wearied
+and disdainful, his head erect, the blood flowing from his wounds in
+which the darts move, swaying to and fro each time he stirs, causing
+him an agony he cannot understand. So he faces the great crowded ring
+contemptuously, and the people shout at him and call him a coward and
+scream for the espada to come and dispatch him.
+
+The banderilleros retire: they have weakened the bull so that there is
+now no danger for the puny little two-legged creature who struts in
+next with a sword, and who is greeted with plaudits and triumphal
+music. Flowers are thrown him, bouquets, the men call him hero, the
+women throw kisses to him.
+
+He bows to the President, then turns towards the bull who stands
+erect still, though the loss of blood must be telling upon him, stands
+with that same air of deadly _ennui_, of weary scorn of all this folly
+which he has possessed from the first. Dusty and blood-stained his
+glossy coat, bloodshot his great lustrous eyes. As he looks round the
+circle already growing dim to them, does he long for his green
+Andalusian pastures, does he see again those pleasant streams by which
+his herd is wandering?
+
+The little manikin sidles up and jabs him behind the shoulder with his
+sword. The bull turns upon him, and he runs for his life. But the bull
+does not deign to follow. With a great show of precaution where there
+is really no danger, the little man with the sword approaches again.
+Amidst cheers from the onlookers he plunges his sword between the
+shoulders of the dying monarch and then rushes backwards. The great
+beast sways, shivers in mortal anguish for a moment, and then without
+a sound sinks, for the first time in this cruel and unequal combat, to
+his knees. Sinks, full of a superb dignity to the end, and one asks
+oneself--"What _can_ the scheme of creation be that gives a creature
+so clean-souled, so grand, into the power of such a miserable mass of
+vile lusts as man?"
+
+A moment more and the head crowned with its tapering crescent horns
+sinks forwards. A gush of blood from the nostrils on the sand, and it
+is over. The glossy form is still--at peace.
+
+With ridiculous manoeuvres the little man comes up again to the great
+beast, obviously dead and harmless, and withdraws his sword which he
+waves triumphantly before the applauding populace.
+
+While he capers about before his delighted admirers, the attendants
+come in and draw away with some difficulty the magnificent form of the
+slaughtered bull.
+
+The music broke into a loud march. There was an interval of relaxation
+for the audience, to move, look about, chatter, and take refreshments.
+
+"This is the end," I said to Suzee; "let us go now."
+
+"Oh, but Treevor, that man said he had five more bulls, look, nobody
+is going yet," she returned, having evidently followed in her own
+sharp way the sense of the Spanish speech of the administrador.
+
+"Do you want to see any more?" I asked. "I think it is dull and
+tedious, as well as horrible."
+
+"The killing is not nice," she said, in deference to my opinions, I
+suppose; "but the music and the people are fun, I think. Do let us
+stay for one more fight. You won't want to bring me again."
+
+"No, I certainly shan't," I answered.
+
+"Then do let me stay now, Treevor, just one more time."
+
+I shrugged my shoulders and sat back in my seat, and after a second
+the little door opposite opened and another bull, this time apparently
+mad with pain, dashed into the ring.
+
+The people applauded him and the shouts and clappings increased his
+excitement.
+
+He bounded at full gallop across the sandy space and charged the
+hoarding that hemmed him in.
+
+The audience were delighted, but the toreadors entered the ring and
+stood together at one side, looking anxious, and some of the
+attendants came up and received orders from them.
+
+From the first the animal was unmanageable, out of all control. The
+goading and the enraging that goes on in the dens behind the arena had
+been overdone apparently, for the bull, wild with rage and pain,
+galloped madly round, taking no notice of the pallid group of
+toreadors.
+
+At last one or two came forward with their cloaks of scarlet; the bull
+made a dash at them, scattering them on either side, then bounded on
+and with one tremendous leap cleared the hoarding that separates
+spectators from the rings, and landed bellowing in the corridor that
+ran round it just below our seats. It was full of onlookers drawn
+nearer than usual to the hoarding by the excitement, and they
+scattered and fled in all directions, while shriek upon shriek went up
+from the women all round us as they saw the bull clear the hoarding
+and come down amongst them.
+
+With one accord they stood up. Like a great wave breaking, they rushed
+upwards to the highest part of the ring, shrieks and screams on every
+side telling of the trampled children and injured women in the frantic
+panic.
+
+Suzee rose with the rest, livid and trembling, and would have rushed
+after that seething mass behind us, if I had not seized her arm and
+forced her back to her seat.
+
+"Sit down, stay where you are," I said; "the bull will do you less
+harm than that trampling horde."
+
+We were left there alone; groans and cries came from the
+panic-stricken, struggling mass of people behind us; just beneath us
+in the emptied corridor stood the bull, snorting with lowered head,
+pawing the ground; in the arena, the administrador, green with terror
+and anxiety, shouted commands to the pallid and trembling attendants.
+
+I sat still, holding Suzee. The bull paused for a moment in front of
+us, then with his head lowered almost to the ground, made a terrific
+rush forwards, shattering the woodwork of the platform at our feet to
+atoms with his horns. Suzee gave a piercing shriek and fell across me,
+unconscious. The animal, startled by the scream, raised its head.
+
+In its rolling eyes I saw nothing but the madness of pain and terror.
+As it drew back for a second charge, in its mad effort to dash through
+the woodwork to liberty, I slipped sideways with the dead weight of
+Suzee on my arm, into the seats on one side. It was not an instant too
+soon. The next, the bull rushed forwards and our seats were falling in
+splinters about his head. Along, sideways, over chair after chair, I
+slipped, dragging and supporting Suzee as best I could. I heard
+screams of terror and suffering all round us as the panic spread
+amongst the people and they forced themselves in an ever-increasing
+mass upwards, fighting their way to the exits at the top of the ring.
+
+My mind was made up. All before me was clear and open, the seats
+deserted, below me ran the corridor leading to the entrance by which
+we had come in. For that I would make.
+
+There was some slight risk, for the bull, tired now of his futile
+efforts to destroy the wooden barriers in front of him, had turned
+back into the corridor and started on a mad gallop down it round the
+ring.
+
+I must drop down into the corridor before I could arrive at the
+entrance, and unless he were stopped he might meet us in the corridor
+before I could reach the exit. But his arc of the circle was a long
+one, mine to the exit was short, and, anyway, I preferred to chance
+meeting him to trusting myself to the mercies of my own kind.
+
+I leapt down into the passage, and, lifting Suzee into my arms, passed
+on rapidly to the wicket.
+
+There was no one there. I went through, out into the golden sunlight.
+
+Outside, the accident and the panic had not yet become known. I saw a
+carriage, with its driver asleep upon the box, close to the main gate.
+I went up to it, put Suzee in and spoke to the man.
+
+"The lady has fainted," I said; "drive us back to the Hotel Iturbide."
+
+The man, delighted at securing a fare so soon, seized the whip and
+reins and drove away full tilt before one of the struggling wretches
+in the bull-ring had succeeded in getting out.
+
+Suzee recovered consciousness just before we reached the hotel, but
+when she had opened her eyes she closed them again instantly and
+covered her face with her hands with a cry of terror.
+
+"Oh, Treevor, that awful bull; where is it now? It can't get at us,
+can it?"
+
+"No, poor brute," I answered. "You are safe enough now, Suzee; you are
+miles away from the bull-ring."
+
+She was trembling so much she could hardly walk up the stairs to our
+room, and when we got there I made her go to bed while I sat by her
+putting cold compresses on her head. She complained of such pain in
+it, I was afraid that the fright and shock would do her serious harm.
+
+I sat up with her through the night, and towards morning she fell into
+a tranquil sleep.
+
+I paced up and down the quiet room lighted only by the night light,
+thinking over the horrid scene of the afternoon, and when it grew to
+be day I was hungering so for a companion to speak to and to feel with
+me, that I drew out my writing-case and wrote a long letter to Viola.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE WAY OF THE GODS
+
+
+"But, Treevor, I am so very dull when you go out, and when you are
+working it is as bad. I do miss my baby so to play with."
+
+"You did not strike me as a very devoted mother when I saw you at
+Sitka," I answered.
+
+"Oh, Treevor, he was a very fine boy, and I took so much care of him.
+Was he not a very large child?"
+
+"Yes, he certainly was, and with a dreadful voice and a furious
+temper. It's no use worrying me, Suzee, about the matter. I dislike
+children very much, and I do not wish nor intend to have any of my
+own."
+
+Suzee began to cry in the easy way she had. She seemed able to
+commence and leave off just when she chose.
+
+"You are a little goose," I said jestingly. "You don't know when you
+are well off. For months and months you would be ill and disfigured,
+unable to come about with me or be my companion, unable to sit to me
+for my painting, and afterwards the child would be an unendurable tie
+and burden. Besides, as I say, I have an intense dislike to children
+and could never live with one anywhere near me. I am afraid, if you
+want them, you must go away from me, to some one who has your views."
+
+Suzee came over to where I was sitting and knelt beside my chair,
+clasping both hands round my arm.
+
+"Treevor," she said, almost in a whisper, "you are so beautiful with
+your straight face, every line in it is so straight, quite straight;
+and your black hair and your dark eyes and your dark eyebrows. I want
+that for my baby. I want a son just like you; he must be just like
+you, and then I should be so happy."
+
+As she spoke, the lines of a poetess flashed across me, indistinctly
+remembered--"beauty that women seek after ... that they may give to
+the world again."
+
+Was this the reason of woman's love of beauty in men? Ah, not with all
+women! Viola loved beauty, as I did, as all artists do, as they love
+their art, for itself alone.
+
+I stroked her smooth shining hair, gently, and shook my head, smiling
+down upon her.
+
+"Do you not value my love for you?" I asked.
+
+"Oh yes, yes; you know I do."
+
+"Well, then understand this: you would utterly and entirely lose it if
+you became a mother."
+
+Suzee shrank away from me.
+
+"But why, Treevor? Hop Lee was so pleased with me...."
+
+"Men have different tastes. And it is well they have, or the world
+would be worse than it is. Some men like children and domesticity and
+sick-nursing and childish companionship; I don't. I like health and
+beauty, and love and intellect about me, and women who are straight
+and slim and can inspire my pictures. That's why, Suzee, and I don't
+see any reason why I shouldn't gratify my tastes as they do theirs.
+There are plenty of men in the world who like being fathers of
+families; the world can well allow an artist to give it his art
+instead."
+
+"Oh yes, Treevor, of course; but I am so sorry. I am so dull without a
+baby."
+
+We were sitting together in a light balcony of one of the hotels at
+Tampico, and the subject of our conversation was one which had come up
+many times between us lately.
+
+Some months had slipped by since the accident in the bull-ring. Suzee
+had recovered from the shock with a few day's rest and care, and as
+soon as she was better we had started on a tour through the country
+places of Mexico, and as it grew colder we had worked downwards to the
+gulf of Vera Cruz in the Tierra Caliente, or Hot Lands, and now were
+making a stay here on the coast, caught by the beauty of palm and sea
+and shore.
+
+Suzee, though apparently she had all that most young women covet, had
+been for some time restless and dissatisfied, and the reason soon
+appeared in conversations like that of to-day.
+
+"Come along," I said, getting up; "see what a lovely evening it is,
+let's go for a walk along the seashore."
+
+Suzee looked round at the translucent green bell of the sky that hung
+over us, disapprovingly.
+
+"It's always fine weather," she said, rather sulkily; "and there's
+nothing to see on that old shore."
+
+"Nothing to see!" I exclaimed in sheer amazement. Then I stopped
+short, remembering her indifference to all I valued, and added: "There
+are most beautiful shells of every shape and colour, wouldn't you like
+to get some of those?"
+
+Suzee's face brightened immediately. This idea took her fancy at once.
+It appealed to her keen love of material things. Beauty in air and sky
+was nothing to her; but something she could pick up and handle, become
+possessed of, like the shells, deeply interested her. She rose at
+once.
+
+"I had better take a basket, Treevor," she said, "to carry them back
+in." And while she went to get it, I leant over the balcony-rail
+musing on that great difference in character between woman and woman,
+man and man. Humanity might almost be divided into those two great
+parts--those who love and live in ideas; and those who love, and are
+wholly concerned with, material things.
+
+She came back in a moment with a basket swinging in her hand. It had
+not seemed so necessary here in Mexico that she should dress in
+Western clothes, so she had gradually relapsed into her gaily coloured
+silks and embroidered muslins and Zouave jackets. This style of
+dressing suited the tropical climate, and the convenances of Europe
+and America were too far off for anything to matter much here. It gave
+her constant occupation, too, the making of her costumes; for she was
+marvellously quick and dexterous with her needle, and if I gave her
+the silks she fancied she made them into dainty forms and embroidered
+them with the greatest skill. As she came back now with her basket the
+light fell softly on her lilac silk, all worked with gold thread, and
+on her pretty bare head with its block of black shining hair.
+
+We started for the shore, Suzee all animation now and chattering on
+the possibility of sewing sea-shells into gold tissue or muslin.
+
+The sky all round and overhead was palest green and strangely
+luminous, the sea before us stretched to the far horizon in tones of
+gentlest mauve and violet, beneath our feet was the firm brown sand
+for miles and miles unrolled like a glossy, sepia carpet. On one side
+broke the tiny waves in undulating lines of white; on the other, the
+wild sand-dunes, grown over with rough grass and waving cocoanut
+palms, came down towards the sea.
+
+We walked on, both contented. I, in the strange colouring and the warm
+salt breath in the air, that stirred the palm leaves till they tossed
+joyfully in it; she, in the absorbing pursuit of the shells which lay
+along the sand, positively studding it, like jewels, with colour. The
+tide had recently gone down over the shore where we walked and left
+them radiant, gleaming with moisture in the low light of the sun, pink
+and scarlet, deepest purple and gold. She ran ahead of me, picking
+them up and filling her basket rapidly. I walked on slowly, thinking,
+while my eyes wandered over that shining, palpitating, gently heaving
+violet sea. She had given herself to me entirely--and what beauty she
+had to give! And yet she had failed to chain me to her in any way,
+greatly though she pleased my senses. It is, after all, something in
+the soul of a woman, in her inner self, that has the power of throwing
+an anchor into our soul and holding it captive. Mere beauty throws its
+anchor into the flesh, and after a time the flesh gives way.
+
+In a little while Suzee came running back to me; her basket was full
+to overflowing: she was quite happy.
+
+"Take me up in your arms and kiss me," she said. "Look, Treevor, we
+are all alone. What a great, great beach it is here, with not another
+soul to see anywhere."
+
+As she said, the firm brown plain of glistening sand stretched behind
+us and before us with not another footfall to disturb its silence,
+the wide white sand-dunes were deserted, the palms tossed their
+greeting to the sea through the glory of calm evening light.
+
+"Let us lie under those palms now; I am tired," she said as I kissed
+her. And we went together and lay down under the palms on a ragged
+tussock of grass, and the light fell and grew deeper in tone round us
+and the amethystine sea, flushed with colour, swayed and heaved,
+murmuring its low eternal song by our side.
+
+A great vulture flapped heavily by and perched on a sand-hill not far
+from us, eyeing us somewhat askance, and some sea-gulls circled over
+us--otherwise we were undisturbed.
+
+The following day we planned to come down the river Tamesi, which
+flows out at Tampico. We could not go up by boat, as the river was in
+flood and nothing could make headway against it, but the natives were
+adepts at steering a boat down with the rapid current, and knew how to
+handle it on the top of the flood.
+
+We took the train some distance up the line, and alighted at a place
+where the river flowed by between high banks and where boats could be
+had from the villagers.
+
+It was a perfect, cloudless day, and we reached our destination in the
+sweet fresh early hours of the morning. A walk through the tiny
+Mexican village brought us to the bank of the river where the Tamesi
+flowed by, heavily, grandly, in all the majesty of its flood.
+
+The waters were brown and discoloured, but the sun glinting on its
+ripples turned them into gold, and the tamarisk on the bank drooped
+over it, letting its long strands float on the gliding water.
+
+A little way down the bank, moored to the side, rocked a boat, of
+which the outline delighted me, and, to Suzee's annoyance, I stood
+still and drew out my note-book to make a sketch of it.
+
+It appeared to be the larger half of one immense tree of which the
+inside had all been hollowed out, both ends were raised and pointed
+and, in the centre, four bent bamboo poles, inclined together,
+supported a finely plaited wicker-work screen, which shielded a patch
+about two yards square in the boat from the burning rays of the sun.
+
+I finished the sketch in a few minutes, and we went on towards the
+boat; its owners, two Mexican Indians, were sitting on the bank
+engaged in mending one of their paddles. They were quite naked except
+for their loin cloths, and their bare, brown crouching figures gave
+the last touch of suggested savagery to the scene. The red, earthy
+banks of the river stretched before us desolate and sunburnt; the
+swollen, muddy river itself rolled swiftly and heavily along, silent,
+impressive; the dug-out, looking like a craft of primeval times,
+rocked and swayed noiselessly on the flood; the naked savages
+crouched over their broken paddle beneath the waving tamarisk; the
+sunlight fell torrid, blighting in its scorching heat, over all. The
+scene, with its rough, fresh, vigorous barbarism, delighted me. I
+slackened my pace and stood still again before disturbing or
+interrupting the men.
+
+"Suzee," I said suddenly, "I admire this picture before us immensely.
+I should like to see it in the Academy to cheer up jaded Londoners
+next season. I should be glad to stop here to-day to paint it. We can
+go down the river to-morrow."
+
+Suzee stared at me in dismay.
+
+"Oh, Treevor, you don't want to stay here all day, do you? It's so
+hot, and there's nothing to do, and, we shall miss the fair at Tampico
+to-night. You promised we should see it"
+
+I sighed. It was true, I had said something about the fair, but I had
+forgotten it. Suzee, however, never forgot things of this sort and she
+radically objected to any change being made in a programme. She did
+not adapt herself quickly and easily to changed moods or
+circumstances.
+
+Had Viola been with me, she would have said at once:
+
+"_Would_ you like to stay here instead of going on? Do let's stay,
+then. We can go down the river any time." And had I suggested there
+would be nothing for her to do, she would have answered:
+
+"Oh yes, I shall enjoy sitting watching you." Her interest had always
+lain in me, in her companion; to what we did she was indifferent;
+provided we were together and I was pleased, she was content. It is
+just this difference in women that makes it so delightful to live with
+some, so impossible to live with others. There are some, very few, of
+whom Viola was one, who delight in the society of the man they love,
+who drink in pleasure for themselves from his enjoyment; there are
+others, like Suzee, the majority, who are always at conflict with his
+wishes in little things, striving after some independent aim or
+project.
+
+And they wonder why, after a time, their companionship grows irksome
+and they are deserted. They also wonder why sometimes the other woman
+is adored and worshipped and grows into the inner life of a man till
+he cannot exist without her.
+
+I felt then an extraordinary longing to be free from Suzee, to be
+alone. Here was a picture, set ready to my hand. A scene we had come
+upon accidentally and that, in its barbaric simplicity, was not easily
+to be found again. It was strong, striking, original. I saw it before
+my mind's eyes on the canvas already, with "On the Tamesi, Mexico"
+written on the margin.
+
+How could she ask me to lose it? But I could not break my word, as she
+chose to keep me to it.
+
+I said nothing, and, after a pause of keen disappointment, I walked
+slowly on again towards the boat.
+
+The men were Indians, but they understood a little Spanish and I
+bargained with them to take us down to Tampico where we should arrive
+about seven the same evening, in time for the fruit-market and general
+fair held in the Plaza.
+
+They were glad enough to take us as they were going down in any case
+with a load of bananas and our fares would pay them well for the extra
+space we took up in the boat.
+
+They hauled the dug-out to the bank and jumped in, clearing it of old
+fruit baskets and arranging some rugs and mats under the shade of the
+wicker screen. Behind that, to the stem, the boat was filled with the
+rich yellow of the bananas, the ruddy pink of the plantains, and
+mellow, translucent orange of the mangoes. They lay there in great
+heaps, leaving only just space enough for the stem paddler to stand.
+
+The men motioned us to get in, which we did, and took our seats
+cross-legged in the centre on the mats, beneath the awning; glad of
+its shade, for the sun's rays grew fiercer every moment.
+
+I put my unused sketch-pad behind me, gazing back regretfully over the
+yellow flood. The men pushed the boat out on to the waters and sprang
+in themselves, each armed with a long paddle; one taking his stand in
+front of us, one at the stern, and directed our little craft to the
+centre of the huge and sullen stream. It rolled from side to side as
+it shot out over the surface, but as soon as the men got their paddles
+to work, evenly with long alternate strokes, the flood bore us along,
+swiftly, smoothly, the dug-out floating steadily without rocking.
+
+The men stood, alert and watchful, on the lookout for submerged trees
+and floating débris; for at the swift rate we were now floating, any
+collision would have brought great danger.
+
+I leant back, watching the banks pass swiftly by, mile upon mile of
+red earth and waving tamarisk under the scorching blue. Suzee seemed
+more interested in the stalwart figure of our forward boatman and the
+play of his fine muscles under the smooth brown skin of his shoulders
+where the sun struck them.
+
+Had I loved her more I should have been angry; as it was, I was only
+amused, and glad of anything that occupied her attention and relieved
+me of the necessity of listening and replying to her childish chatter.
+
+How fast the boat sped on over the surface of the whirling stream that
+rushed by those red banks, swift as the flash of life, hurrying on to
+lose itself in the ocean as life hurries on to lose itself in the
+infinite.
+
+The banks were getting flatter, here and there the stream widened,
+the wild tamarisk, child of the desert, disappeared and gave way to
+cultivated fields and wide tracts of the maguey plant, dear and
+valuable to the Mexican as the date-palm to the East-Indian. Rough
+yellow adobe huts stood here and there, their crude colouring of
+unbaked mud turned into gold by that great painter, the tropical sun;
+and sometimes a palm stood by a hut, cutting the fierce light blue of
+the sky with its delicate, fine, curved, drooping branches; sometimes
+the dark, glossy green of the organ cactus rose like jade pillars
+beside it. All these sped by us quickly, though at times the scene was
+so engaging I could have held it with my eyes; but ruthlessly we were
+whirled forward and the scenes on the bank kept slipping behind us,
+just as our dearest scenes and incidents in life keep slipping past,
+swallowed up by the ever-pursuing distance.
+
+Our red banks had been growing flatter and flatter and now they seemed
+to disappear, and the river instantly broadened itself out and spread
+into a lake, as if glad of the expansion. Over each bank, far on
+either side, it rolled itself out in great shining flats of water,
+glittering and dazzling, impossible to look at in this hour of noon;
+and as if tranquillity had come to it with its greater freedom, the
+river flowed more slowly and gently.
+
+Our boatmen stood at ease at their paddles, pushing quietly along,
+and I looked round with interest. We were in the centre of a great
+lake in which here and there submerged trees and bushes made green
+islands. An endless lake it seemed, a great waste of gleaming water.
+We floated along gently like this for some time, and then almost
+suddenly when I looked ahead, I saw the end of the lake was closing
+in, there were woods and forests now upon its margin; a few more
+strokes of the paddle and we were in shade, heavy, cool shade, where
+the water gleamed with a bronze shimmer. Narrower still the lake end
+became, the margins drew together, and with a swift push forwards,
+like the bolt of a rabbit to its hole, our boat shot forwards into a
+little tunnel of darkness before us over which the interlacing boughs
+of the trees made a perfect arch. We were in the forest, and it was
+dark and cool as it had been brilliant, dazzling with light and heat,
+on the lake. A dim, green twilight reigned here, and the river went
+with a swift, dark rush, past the roots of the overhanging trees. How
+they stooped over the water! Swinging down, interlacing boughs from
+which vine and flowering creeper trailed. The standing figure of the
+boatman had to bend down and sway from side to side to avoid the
+clinging wreaths or mossy boughs and be wary with his paddle to escape
+the snags projecting from the banks.
+
+How grand the great spanning arches of the trees were, above our
+heads! Finer than any cathedral roof wrought by man. How soft the
+luminous green twilight seemed in the long aisle! And constantly from
+bough to bough twined a great scarlet-flowered creeper, glowing redly
+in all this mystery of shade. The banks were thick with vegetation,
+one thing growing over another, with tropical luxuriance, until
+sometimes here and there groups of plants, weary with the struggle
+each to assert itself, had all fallen together over the bank and
+trailed their long strands wearily in the water.
+
+The stream zigzagged on before us, here darkly green to blackness;
+there, where the light pierced through the upper boughs, a golden
+bronze; then blue and silver where it caught and eddied and played
+round a fallen tree or a stump in the river bed.
+
+We were going fast now, and as we shot along the glimmering stream we
+left the thick green part of the forest behind us. The river broadened
+out, expanded widely on either side, and in a few more minutes we
+seemed on a chain of infinite lakes spreading out on every side under
+and through the trees, which, though they met far overhead forming a
+perfect and continuous roof, were bare of leaves and flowering vines
+beneath. Grey trunks and bare brown branches in bewildering numbers
+now surrounded us, and the sheets of water reflected all so perfectly
+down to infinite depths that one lost sense of reality. Boughs and
+branches, all arching and curving and spreading above us in the
+softened light, and boughs and branches and inverted trees below us,
+arches and curves and twisted networks; between, those long gleaming
+flats of water on which we floated silently without sense of motion,
+ever onwards.
+
+"It is a little like the wood at Sitka in times of river flood," Suzee
+said to me, as we sat together watching the mirrored stems and
+branches glide by beneath our boat.
+
+"Yes?" I answered, smiling back upon her at the remembrance of the
+wood.
+
+The stream was a wide flat here, and our boatmen suddenly directed the
+boat to the bank and brought it to a standstill. "We want to go on
+land here and buy mangoes," he explained in Spanish.
+
+"Very good mangoes can be got here."
+
+We looked round and saw, some distance from the margin, amongst the
+stems of the trees standing thickly together, an adobe building, low
+and flat, and some figures, not much more clothed than our boatmen,
+squatting in front of it, counting mangoes from a great pile into
+baskets.
+
+He fastened the dug-out to one of the many tree stems, drawing it
+close to the bank, and then he and his companion landed, leaving us
+alone in the lightly swaying boat.
+
+"We'll have lunch here, Suzee, don't you think?" I asked her,
+beginning to unpack the small basket we had brought. "Can you make tea
+for us there, do you think?"
+
+"Oh yes, quite easily; they have a little kitchen here."
+
+In the forepart of the boat the Indians had fixed a piece of tin with
+a few bricks round it, forming a hearthstone and stove. On this they
+cooked their own food as their surrounding pots and kettles shewed. A
+few embers from their last cooking glowed still between the bricks.
+Suzee leant over them, blew them into a blaze and then set our kettle
+on, getting out her little cups and saucers and ranging them on the
+floor of the boat.
+
+I sat back and watched her. The whole scene was a delightful one and
+rivalled the one I had noted at starting. The gleaming water spread
+itself in large flat mirrors on every side, and the trees standing in
+it reflected beneath, and reaching up to the lofty roof of
+overarching, interlaced boughs above us, gave the effect of a hall of
+a thousand columns. The adobe house of the fruit-seller seemed
+standing on a precarious island, so high had the floods risen round
+it, and numerous empty baskets and crates, evidently lifted from their
+moorings on the bank, drifted slowly about on the silvery tide. Our
+boat itself was a lovely object with its fairy lines, its thread of
+smoke going up from it, and the little Oriental figure bending over
+the red embers in its prow.
+
+We lunched and had our tea in this cool retreat of softened light, and
+knew the sun was beating with its murderous noonday glare just
+without. The boatmen came back after an interval with a huge load of
+mangoes which they piled into the boat, and offered us sixty for five
+cents. I gave them the five cents and took two or three of the fruits
+for myself and Suzee. Then the moorings were undone, the men jumped
+in, and paddled us swiftly onwards. The proprietor of the adobe hut
+came to the edge of his grove and saluted, as we passed by on a rapid
+current; then he and hut and mangoes all glided from us, quickly as a
+dream, and we were borne forward through the wonderful maze of trees
+over the tranquil sheets of water.
+
+All through the golden Mexican afternoon we descended the river, down,
+ever downwards, to the sea. Sometimes in the deep green shadows of
+overhanging trees, passing through the heart of a forest; sometimes
+out in the burning open beneath the clear blue of the sky, between
+flat plains of open country; sometimes on the breast of wide lakes;
+sometimes between high banks, where the boat went dizzily fast and the
+waters passed the paddles with a sharp hiss as we rushed on; and each
+of those moments was a delight to me, and even Suzee seemed affected
+by the beauty and the poetry of the river, for she leant against me
+silent and absorbed and her eyes grew soft and dreaming as the visions
+on the golden banks swept by; fields of sugar-cane and maguey, coffee
+plantations with their million scarlet berries, waving banana and
+palm, masses of delicate bamboo rustling as the warm breeze stirred
+them.
+
+As the day melted into evening, the sky flushed a deep rosy red and
+seemed to hang over us like a great hollowed-out ruby glowing with
+crimson fires. The waterway of the river before us turned crimson, and
+all the ripples in it were edged and flecked with gold. The great
+lagoons, when we passed through them now, reflected the peace of the
+painted skies and the marsh lilies floating on their surface became
+jewels set in gold as the water eddied round them.
+
+In half an hour the glory faded, leaving a transparent lilac sky over
+which the darkness closed with all the swiftness of the tropics.
+
+As we neared the sea and the warm salt breath came up to us we saw the
+light over the Market Square in Tampico and the masses of soft shadow
+of the trees in the Plaza.
+
+Frail, wooden boat-houses, with shaky landing-stages built out over
+the water, lined the banks on either side, and at one of them our
+boatmen suddenly drew in, and we disembarked in the soft darkness,
+suffused with the red light from the square and vibrating with the
+music from a band playing there behind the trees.
+
+We got out and walked along the river-bank towards the seashore, where
+the sea lay calm and still, its black, gently heaving surface
+reflecting the light of the stars. Where the river debouched, there
+was a sheltered cove of fine white sand, and here every species of
+gaily painted craft was drawn up. The light from the Market Square,
+ablaze with lamps, reached out to it and shewed boat after boat of
+fantastic shape and colour, with striped awnings fixed on bamboo poles
+over their centre, lying in the shelter of the palm-trees that fringed
+the cove. We rounded the slight promontory on our left hand and came
+full into the light of the animated town.
+
+The fair was in progress, and numbers of fruit-sellers from all the
+country round, from the adobe hut and the large hacienda, or estate,
+of the Mexican gentleman, alike, had brought down their load of fruit
+to sell in Tampico.
+
+Not only was the Plaza itself filled to overflowing with fruit and
+other stalls, but they reached down almost to the shore, and very rich
+and Oriental the scene looked, framed in deepest shadow from the Plaza
+trees on one side, and the smooth, black, starlit darkness of the sea
+on the other.
+
+Each stall had its own light, a bowl of flaming naphtha mounted on a
+bamboo pole, and the light fell over the golden fruit--mangoe,
+plantain, and banana piled high upon it, and also all round the
+vender's feet as he stood by his stall in town costume of one long
+white muslin robe.
+
+There were other stalls where they sold Mexican drawn-work, carved
+leather and filigree silver, others again with chairs set round where
+one could have iced-fruit drinks or coffee, and the band played
+sonorously and the crowd, good-natured, laughing, gaily dressed, men,
+women, and children of all sizes, strolled amongst the stalls, buying,
+looking, chattering, flirting, in the soft, damp heat of the night.
+
+Suzee was enchanted and stared about her with bold, lustrous glances,
+pleased at the admiring looks of the men on her strange pretty face.
+She steered me up to the silver-filigree stall and there had all the
+vender's wares put out for her inspection. She was keen enough where
+her own particular interests were concerned, and the sellers of
+artificial jewellery tempted her with their sparkling gewgaws not at
+all. Real solid worth was what she intended to obtain, and her taste
+in choosing the silver was excellent.
+
+Would I buy her this? Would I buy her that? And I assented to
+everything. I only wished I could buy myself pleasure as easily.
+
+She chose a necklet, a brooch, and numberless bangles for her arms,
+all the smallest she could find, those generally made for children.
+When these loaded her little arms and the necklet was clasped round
+her throat she was happy, and the curious, interested Mexicans
+gathered in a little knot round us, looked on with interest and
+evident approval at the Englishman's money being spent amongst them.
+
+We stayed in the square buying to her heart's content till eleven, and
+then, after supper at a little table beneath the Plaza trees where the
+band played loudest, for Suzee loved music when it meant noise, we
+went back to the hotel and to bed.
+
+The next day I went by train to the place where we had embarked for
+our voyage down the Tamesi, fully equipped with my materials for a
+sketch--and alone.
+
+Suzee, adhering to her idea that it would be dull and hot on the
+river-bank, had preferred to stay in the hotel playing with some of
+the treasures bought yesterday at the fair.
+
+Alone and undisturbed I sat all day sketching, till the fires were
+lighted in the West and warned me I must turn homewards. I had a good
+picture, and I packed up my traps with that deep sense of satisfaction
+that accomplished work alone can give and walked slowly to the
+station. As my thoughts slipped on to Suzee a sense of anxiety came
+over me. Time was going on. The year would soon be over. What did I
+intend to do? Once the year was past it would be impossible for me to
+continue living with her, even for a day. And now I felt so often I
+would rather be alone than with her. How would she feel over our
+separation? How could I provide for her happiness when I took back my
+freedom?
+
+Satiety was beginning to creep over the passion I had for her, and
+that was still farther checked now that I knew she looked upon it more
+as a means to an end--the child--rather than enjoyed it for itself.
+
+It worried me greatly this thought of her future and how I was going
+to provide for it, and it seemed sometimes as if it might be better to
+give in to her; perhaps without me she would be happy if she had a
+child as she wished, provided I could make, as I could, a good
+allowance to both. But then even with a child I could not imagine
+Suzee would want to remain alone, and what would be the fate of a
+child if other lovers came, or a husband?...
+
+While I did not think that Suzee loved me deeply, deep emotion not
+being within her range of powers, it was difficult to see how I could
+find for her an existence as pleasant as she led with me.
+
+All these things worried me greatly, and as Fate willed it,
+needlessly.
+
+How often in this life a way is suddenly opened out through
+circumstances where we least expect it.
+
+The Greeks said--"For these unknown matters a god shall find out the
+way." And often indeed it happens that Fate steps in, and in some way
+our wildest dreams have never pictured turns all our life to another
+hue suddenly before our eyes.
+
+One night when I had been making a little head of Suzee in her
+prettiest mood on my canvas, she came and sat on my knee and begged me
+to give her, as a reward for her sitting, a narrow band of gold I
+always wore on my left arm above the elbow.
+
+I refused, for Viola had given it to me and locked it on my arm. She
+had the key and I, even had I wished, could only have had it taken off
+by means of another key or melting the gold.
+
+At my refusal there was a storm of tears as usual, but it soon passed
+over on my kissing her and promising we would go to a jeweller's on
+the morrow and have one something like it put on her own arm.
+
+She soon fell asleep after peace was restored, but I lay awake for
+hours watching the tracery of palm shadows on the wall opposite,
+thrown there by the light of the square. At midnight the lamp was put
+out, the room grew black, without a ray of light, and after a time I,
+too, fell asleep.
+
+I was awakened by a curious sense of a presence in the room. My
+eyelids flew open, my ears strained. The room was one solid block of
+blackness, there was no ray of light anywhere. I could see and hear
+nothing for a moment, though I was certain another living thing had
+entered the room. Then at the same instant there was a violent
+vibration of the bed beneath me and a piercing scream from Suzee, a
+blind, wild cry to me for protection.
+
+Instinctively I threw my arms out to her. Her body was struggling,
+writhing. I felt it as my hands shot out and gripped fiercely, in the
+thick darkness, round two hard hairy arms, tense, rigid, as they held
+her down.
+
+Suzee's voice broke out suddenly as my grip possibly loosened the
+pressure of those other hands upon her throat, and she was speaking in
+_Chinese_. A hot breath came on my eyes, some face must have been
+close to mine in the blackness; under my arms, on Suzee's wildly
+heaving body, I felt something moving, warm and slow and soft, and
+knew that it was blood.
+
+"Suzee," I called to her across her clamour of terrified entreaty,
+"get a light if you can."
+
+The hot breath came nearer.
+
+"Devil! Devil! This is your promise, your English word." The sound
+came to me like the hiss of steam close to my ear, but I knew the
+voice of Hop Lee--Hop Lee buried in Sitka, thousands of miles away.
+
+The arms in my clutch struggled furiously; in their spasm of muscular
+effort they tore me upwards from the bed, as the lock of my fingers
+would not give way.
+
+Suzee's voice clamoured in passionate entreaty, unintelligible to me.
+Then suddenly came a terrific twist, which wrenched away one of the
+arms, and a lightning stab, a deep burning in my shoulder, and
+simultaneously a blaze of light. Over me hung the bent old form of Hop
+Lee, his right arm, lifted up, held a long knife raised for its second
+stab. His face was alight with fury. Scarlet was already running in
+bright ribands over the whiteness of the bed, Suzee's blood and my
+own. I threw up my left arm and caught his wrist and turned the hand
+and knife upwards till it pointed to the ceiling, my own arm stretched
+to the fullest length upright. Suzee gave one horrible cry of terror,
+animal terror, and then there was silence beside me.
+
+"She has fainted, has fainted," my brain muttered in itself. A
+sickening fear came into it as silence fell after that one awful cry.
+
+I had my revolver under my pillow. If I could reach it! I looked up to
+the small red eyeballs of the Chinaman.
+
+They were insane, glaring, full of the wild, unreasoning lust to kill.
+Some instinct moved me to speak.
+
+"You were dead, I heard. I never had your wife while you were alive."
+
+"Liar! Liar! You shall pay me in blood."
+
+His hand with the knife in it twisted itself round in my grip. I felt
+my uplifted arm losing its force. What was draining my strength? That
+stream coming softly from my shoulder.
+
+I lifted myself, trying to throw him backwards. My arm suddenly bent
+at the elbow and his hand with the knife in it zigzagged downwards
+very near to my throat. Age and feebleness had disappeared from him.
+He was strong now with the strength of insanity and of that blind
+leaping fury that glared out of his distorted face. There was a sudden
+struggle as he dropped on my chest, then with my hand still locked on
+his wrist we rolled together onto the floor.
+
+A moment and we were up on our feet and he had forced me backwards to
+the bed. I felt my strength was going, but I still clung with a
+steel-like clutch to his wrist and kept the pointed knife at bay. As
+he bent me backwards on to the bed near the pillow, I took my right
+hand from his arm, snatched the revolver from under the pillow, thrust
+it into his face between the eyes, and fired.
+
+He fell forwards, a great hole torn in his forehead, from which a
+river of blood poured, joining the bright ribands and with them making
+a sea of crimson.
+
+I looked across him to where Suzee lay motionless.
+
+"Suzee," I said, my breath almost dying in my throat.
+
+She stirred slightly. I was beside her in a moment. Her eyelids opened
+slowly. Then her eyes filled with terror.
+
+"Where is he?" she muttered.
+
+"Dead; he cannot hurt you any more. You are safe now."
+
+"No, Treevor, I am dying; it pains me so here."
+
+She laid one hand on her breast and I saw the blood well up between
+two fingers. I tore aside the muslin veils on her bosom and found the
+wound: it was not large, just one clean stab, turning purple at the
+edges.
+
+"It is deep, Treevor; so deep. And it bleeds inside me. It is drinking
+my life. I have only a few minutes to tell you. Hold up my head. I
+can't breathe."
+
+I slipped my arm beneath her little neck. My heart seemed breaking
+with distress; black tides of resentment, of rage went through me,
+that she should be torn from me.
+
+"Listen, Treevor. It was I that lied to you. I told you he was dead,
+and the child. They were not. I ran away. I left them at Sitka. I came
+to 'Frisco and took refuge with that woman. Then I wrote to you."
+
+A sudden horror of her seemed to enfold me as I heard.
+
+How she had lied and deceived me! And forced me to break my word!
+
+"Because I wanted you so much and I knew you would never have me if
+you thought he was still alive.... Your stupid promise. What are
+promises when one loves? I wanted you, Treevor, so much! So much!"
+
+Some of the old fire flashed out of the dying eyes, a hungry,
+despairing look.
+
+"Kiss me, Treevor. Say you forgive me."
+
+But I could not. For the moment I was so stunned, so overwhelmed by
+this sudden revelation of her deception.
+
+A deathly physical faintness was creeping over me; a sensation like
+the beginning of long-denied sleep which rolls at last like an
+unconquerable tide, obliterating everything, through the exhausted
+frame, was invading my whole body. I clasped one hand mechanically
+round the bed-rail to support myself, the ground seemed to lift and
+sway beneath my feet.
+
+I looked down on the little oval face that had lived so near to me
+through the last year. How pale it was now, framed in the crimson mist
+that stretched across the bed! At the slight, exquisite body so often
+held in my arms. Was I to lose them now for all time?
+
+"I did it all for you, because I wanted you so much. Do kiss me and
+say you forgive. I shall not rest through a thousand years if you will
+not."
+
+Grey shadows were collecting in her face, some unseen hand seemed
+drawing the eternal veil between us. To me, life, with all its
+doings, was far away. I myself was standing in the uncertain mists of
+death. Wide, limitless, and grey, the great plains of the hereafter
+seemed opening before me, dim, silent, and mysterious.
+
+Life, with its glare of colour, its triumphant music, its crash of
+sound, was far behind me, almost forgotten; like clouds of indefinable
+tint, piled up on some distant horizon, rose the memories of its
+loves, its woes, its crimes.
+
+Her weak voice calling on me to forgive seemed to have little meaning
+to me now. I leant forward, clasping her dying body to me, and kissed
+her lips, murmuring some words of consolation. Then the grey mists
+rose up over my eyes sealing them, and I sank slowly into the perfect
+darkness.
+
+
+
+
+PART FIVE
+
+THE WHITE NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE FLAMES OF LIFE'S FURNACE
+
+
+A large room with open windows shewing a great square of hot blue sky
+and a palm branch that swayed in front of them, bright gold in the
+vivid light, was before my eyes as I lay alone, stretched out on my
+bed, the mosquito-curtains draped round me, and raised on the side
+next the windows.
+
+How many weary days and nights had gone slowly by since that night
+which hung veiled in crimson mists in my memory! Horrible night of
+anger, of struggle, of death, of blood! Would its remembrance always
+cling to me like this?
+
+Hop Lee thought I had broken my promise to him. That was the poisoned
+thorn that rankled and twisted and festered within me. No wonder he
+had cursed me and wanted to kill me. And Suzee--how well she had
+deceived me! I remembered her as she had sat trying to weep at the
+supper-table in San Francisco, telling me of the last moments of Hop
+Lee, her own devotion to him, and the child in their dying sufferings!
+Husband and child that she had deserted so gladly! A dull anger burnt
+within me at the thought of that deception, and most fiercely at the
+knowledge that she had forced me to break my word.
+
+Yet that anger, strongly though it flamed against her, could not
+wholly dry the tears that came between my lids as I thought of her.
+She had loved me in her own selfish, childish way, and had risked her
+own life as well as mine to come to me.
+
+After all, was it not I who had been in the wrong from the first? I
+had known she was married. Why had I ever looked at her with that
+admiration which had stirred her passion for me? Morley had warned me.
+Now it had ended like this and nearly cost us all our lives. But I,
+the most guilty of the three, had escaped, and they were both dead.
+
+I appeared to have broken my promise, and now, after already injuring
+him so much--one who had never injured me--I had killed Hop Lee. I had
+taken his wife, who, he had said, was more than his life. Not
+satisfied with that, I had taken his life, too! How horrible it all
+was! I felt suffocated beneath the weight of it. But surely, surely it
+was Suzee who had thrown this burden on me? Yes, but I had begun the
+evil far back in the sunny days at Sitka.
+
+Truly, as I had said to Morley, "One never knows in life."
+
+I had killed him, a poor harmless, defenceless old man who had trusted
+me!
+
+One thing after another had gradually pushed me on to this climax, all
+having their origin in those careless glances exchanged in the Sitka
+tea-shop.
+
+They had thought I should die, too, all the people who had rushed into
+the room and found us that night. Myself unconscious, and the others
+dead.
+
+The cold voice of a doctor had been the first I had heard as sense
+came back to me with the damp night air from the window blowing on my
+face:
+
+"He's done for, I should say, you'd better take his depositions if he
+can speak."
+
+I had opened my eyes and seen some men carrying out the body of Hop
+Lee and the tiny pliable form of dear little Suzee that I should never
+see or clasp again.
+
+The landlord had come up ashy-pale and shaking, with a note-book in
+his hand, and had questioned and re-questioned me, and I had answered
+until I fainted again.
+
+Next, after a black gap, I came to beneath the surgeon's probe which
+he was thrusting into my wound, as he would a fork into cold meat.
+
+"He won't get through, I should think; he has too much fever," he was
+saying, in the regular callous professional voice.
+
+"But I'm going to try the effect of this new antiseptic dressing, I
+want to see if it does harm or not."
+
+I opened my eyes and looked up at his hard, thin-lipped face, and he
+seemed somewhat disconcerted; but only jabbed his probe in a little
+deeper and remarked jocularly:
+
+"Ah, I see, you're tougher than I thought."
+
+More oblivion, and when I next came to I knew that _they_ had both
+been carried away from me and buried--Hop Lee, and his wife beside
+him, and that that chapter in my life was, for ever and ever, closed.
+
+Now I was in charge of a hospital nurse. A horrible creature she was,
+lean and hard-faced, with a straight slit across her face for mouth,
+and little grey, cruel eyes. Like a nightmare she hung round my bed,
+preventing me from getting better.
+
+All the fiendish tortures and cruelties that she had witnessed within
+the hospital walls had, I suppose, made her the thing she was.
+
+Days had passed, and very slowly a little strength had crept back into
+me, enough for me to see I was not getting well as quickly as my youth
+and strength would let me if there were no drawback. I drew all my
+forces together to try and understand this, and then I noticed that
+regularly after each dose of physic I went back a little.
+
+More fever, more pain in my shoulder, more delusions before the brain.
+Each morning when the vitality within me had struggled through the
+evil effects of my medicine I was better, then came the harpy-faced
+nurse to the pillow--my dose--then pain and illness again.
+
+The look on the face of the woman as I drank it was extraordinary. A
+sly, pleased look, as one sees on the face of a schoolboy dismembering
+a living fly.
+
+One day I took the glass as usual from her, but instead of raising it
+to my lips, turned it upside down through the window.
+
+The woman turned red, and then livid.
+
+"What does that mean, sir, may I ask?"
+
+"Simply that I am not going to take any more medicine, thank you," I
+replied quietly, "as I now wish to get well."
+
+"My orders from the doctor are that you shall take it," she said
+grimly; "and I'll make you."
+
+She poured out another glass of the medicine and approached the bed,
+with the intention, it seemed, of opening my mouth and pouring it
+down. But I had had no weakening, sense-destroying drug that morning,
+and nature was rapidly curing me.
+
+She forgot that. As she came up, I sprang from the bed, put my hand on
+her shoulder, and forced her to the door. She shrieked and protested,
+but she could not resist. I put her outside and locked the door.
+
+Then I sank down trembling with exhaustion, for I was very weak. But I
+rejoiced to know my strength had come back even that much. I crossed
+to the window after a moment and looked out. In the distance
+glimmered the sea, blue and joyous and beautiful. How I longed to be
+out near it, in its warm salt breeze! Beside my window grew the
+companion of my weary hours, the waving palm; beneath there was a
+little flagged court, shut in by small buildings belonging to the
+hotel. There was a well there and a banana-tree, and a man sitting
+down plucking alive a struggling fowl. I called to him in Spanish:
+
+"Send the administrador to me." And he looked up.
+
+A frightened look came into his face as he saw who it was that called
+him. Then he nodded, and carrying the unhappy bird by its feet, head
+downwards, disappeared into the hotel.
+
+People and things move slowly with the Spaniards. I waited an hour,
+gazing out into the amethystine distance, wondering if Suzee's glad,
+careless, irresponsible little spirit was dancing there in the
+sunbeams; and then a knock came at the door.
+
+I walked to it and said: "Who is there?"
+
+I recognised the voice of the administrador in his answer, and
+unlocked the door and bid him come in.
+
+He did so, with an alarmed aspect.
+
+"Have you seen the nurse?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," he replied; "she told me you were again delirious and had
+refused to take your medicine, and that she must refuse all
+responsibility for you."
+
+"I am not at all delirious, as you see," I answered; "I simply want to
+get well, and each time I take their stuff I get worse; so I am going
+to cease taking it. Now what I ask you to do is to keep that woman and
+the doctor and the surgeon out of my room. All I want is to be left
+alone, to be quiet. The surgeon took all the stitches out yesterday.
+There is no need for _him_ to see me again, and the others I won't
+have in here."
+
+"But the responsibility, really, Señor," the man muttered looking all
+ways at once, "and the good doctor--such an amiable man. What object
+could he have in not curing the Señor quickly?"
+
+"The object of prolonging his fees," I answered smiling, "I should
+think. When I get well, his fees stop." Then it occurred to me this
+man had also an object in keeping me here, since my hotel bill would
+certainly stop, like the doctors' fees, when I got well; so I added:
+
+"What day of the month is it? The twentieth? Well, listen to this. If
+I am well, perfectly well by the end of the month, I will give you a
+cheque for fifty pounds in addition to my bills, just to show my
+good-will."
+
+Now £50 is much to a Mexican, and over this man's face spread a look
+as of one who has a glimpse of Paradise. He looked down immediately,
+however, and said deprecatingly:
+
+"How can I influence the Señor's getting well? These things are as
+the good God wills. I can hire a Sister to pray for the Señor. That I
+can do."
+
+"Thank you," I said. "But if you will keep the doctor and nurse out of
+my room and send me good food and water I shall get well and the fifty
+pounds is yours. Do you understand, if they come into this room again
+you lose it. I only wish to be alone."
+
+The man bowed and bowed.
+
+"As the Señor wishes, but the good amiable doctor, what should I say
+to him?"
+
+"What you please, only don't let him come near me."
+
+"And when the Señor is well there are many little matters to settle.
+The Consul and the Magistrate...."
+
+I stopped him.
+
+"Not now. I am to have ten days in peace, and alone, or you don't get
+the money."
+
+The man stood bowing and shuffling and muttering for some minutes.
+Then the thought of the £50 came before him too dazzling to resist,
+and with a final: "It shall be exactly as the Señor wishes," he
+withdrew.
+
+And so now I lay alone. Ah, what a comfort solitude is!
+
+Freedom and solitude! Are these not two sweet Sisters of Mercy?
+
+How few of all worldly ills and sorrows can they not either cure or
+assuage? Or, rather, perhaps, ought one not to call them mates, from
+which the child, Content, is born?
+
+I lay there, weak and suffering still, but a balm seemed poured all
+over me, for now I was alone.
+
+I fell asleep after a time and did not wake till it was dark. I felt
+stronger, better. Sleep had nursed me in her own way through all the
+afternoon.
+
+A lamp had been lighted on the table beside me and only needed turning
+up. There was a tray of food there and a carafe of water. I took a
+little of both and felt life stirring in all my veins, now that the
+paralysing grip of the deadly drugs they had been giving me was lifted
+off.
+
+I lay still, gazing about the large, shadowy room and into the violet
+dusk of the square beyond the window, and then gradually sleep came
+over me again.
+
+In less than an hour I started up from my bed, wide-awake. I thought I
+had been with Hop Lee. I looked round the room. All was just as I had
+seen it last. I sank back on my pillow. "It was only a vivid dream," I
+said to myself, and then fell to wondering what the dream had been. I
+could not remember. It seemed some communication had been made to my
+brain while I slept, that it had received very clearly, but now that I
+was awake it could not retain nor understand it, but it could, and did
+remember that I had dreamed of Hop Lee, and that it was a pleasant
+dream.
+
+Yes, the man I had murdered had been with me, had spoken to me, and
+the impression was that of rest, of calm, of some aching self-reproach
+being appeased.
+
+"Just a dream, of course," I said to myself; "but how odd that I
+cannot remember at all what he said." An hour perhaps passed by while
+I lay quiet, strangely comforted by the dream I had forgotten; and
+then I lapsed back into sleep and again Hop Lee was with me, speaking,
+telling me something earnestly, exhorting me gently, and again I woke
+with a feeling of gratitude, of peace; but I could recall nothing of
+what had been said to me.
+
+The light burned steadily beside me, and I sat up and thought.
+
+The feeling of tranquillity that spread through me, so different from
+the feverish self-reproach that had gripped me ever since I had killed
+Hop Lee was so marked, so wonderful in its effect on me that I could
+not feel it was the result of a dream. No, the spirit of the old man
+had been there, absolving me of my broken word, absolving me of his
+murder. The fact that I could not remember, could not recall or
+understand when awake my dream or his words, seemed to shew that in
+sleep a mysterious message from a hidden source had been conveyed to
+me, which, from its nature and the nature of my ordinary material
+brain, could not be received by the latter. From that hour I began to
+get well rapidly. Often and often in the long nights or the lonely
+quiet days, I tried to call up a dream to me, a vision of either of
+them again; often I longed to speak to Suzee once more. But never
+again did any shade come to my pillow. He had come that once, of that
+I was convinced. To others it would always seem as if I had dreamed
+that night. I knew, by some inner sense, I had been spoken to by the
+soul of the old dead Chinaman, and forgiven.
+
+The time passed evenly in that calm solitude. Sometimes still I was
+burnt with fever and racked with pain and got but poor food, and often
+longed for a hand to give me water in the dark nights. And I
+longed--ah, how I desired, infinitely, to send to Viola, tell her, and
+ask her to come to me!
+
+I felt she would come then, that she would fly to me once she heard I
+was ill, in actual need of her.
+
+But my pride refused to let me do this.
+
+I had begged her to come in the name of our love, appealed to her
+through our passion. I would never appeal to her pity.
+
+Besides, I could not bear that she should see me now, wrecked in
+strength, a shadow, a skeleton of myself.
+
+Fever had reduced me to the last thin edge of existence. As I
+stretched out my arms before me, they looked like some grim ghastly
+stranger's, I did not recognise them. No, she should come back to me
+when I had regained the full glory of my health and strength that I
+knew she delighted in.
+
+So I waited with all the patience I could command, and sleep and
+Nature nursed me between them till I was quite well.
+
+Then came long-drawn-out procedure in the Mexican courts. I had
+documents to write and sign, affidavits to make out, interrogations to
+answer; but finally the Law was satisfied. I was acquitted. I heard
+the decision with a curious feeling. How little it seemed to matter
+beside the inner knowledge of my heart, that Hop Lee himself had been
+with me, and knew and understood.
+
+One afternoon then, after the satisfying of nearly endless claims upon
+me, I looked at the long, flat, rolling sea with its reefs of palms
+for the last time, and took the train northwards away from Tampico.
+
+The year was not yet over, but I was going back to be in London, or
+very near it. For would she not write first to my club? and here it
+took at least three weeks for my letters sent on from the club to
+reach me.
+
+I did not wish to live actually in town yet till Viola joined me, to
+advertise our separation, unnecessarily, to our friends, but I thought
+I would live practically hidden somewhere near, so that letters could
+reach me from London the same day.
+
+Within a month I was back in London and went first of all to call for
+letters. Amongst them I recognised instantly there was not one from
+Viola. And, depressed and disappointed, I went down into the country,
+to work.
+
+Work, the dear mistress of an artist's life, the one that never leaves
+him but is there always waiting to receive him back to her, to console
+him in her arms for all the wounds that love has made.
+
+Month after month went by and I worked at the painting, turning into
+finished pictures the many sketches life with Suzee had given me.
+
+As I worked on some of these a wave of sad reflection would sweep over
+me, of memory of her, but the recollection of the deceit and lies in
+which her love for me had been always cloaked came with that memory
+and blunted the poignant edge of it.
+
+Then suddenly one morning came a letter from Viola, and my heart
+seemed at the sight of it to fly upwards and forwards to the future as
+a swallow let out of a darkened room flies upwards and outwards with a
+swift rush to the open light.
+
+    "Bletchner's Hotel, Paris." "If you wish, you may come to me."
+
+That was all, but it was enough. Within a few moments I was ready for
+departure. For weeks a little case had stood ready packed against the
+wall of my room. All else was left standing.
+
+I went to town, caught the morning train to Dover, and crossed to
+Calais.
+
+I reached Paris finally about six and drove to a hotel. I dined in my
+travelling clothes in the restaurant, and then went up to my room to
+dress. What keen life I felt in all my veins! How strongly all the
+power of living had come back to me! Ordinarily, when we are well we
+get so accustomed to our health and strength we are hardly aware of
+either, but there are times when we become supremely conscious of
+both, as I was now. As I walked about my small apartment I felt a
+pride and joy in my strength such as a woman feels, I suppose, in her
+beauty when she surveys it in the mirror--a wild elation, a sense of
+triumph, as she realises in it her power. The thought of the
+approaching meeting with Viola danced before my mind, filling it with
+superb delight. All my veins seemed filled with fire instead of blood.
+My limbs and muscles flew to do the bidding of the eager, impatient
+brain.
+
+I drove to Bletchner's Hotel and enquired for Madame Lonsdale, and was
+immediately shewn up to her suite of apartments. The salon I entered
+was empty. A door faced me at the other end. It was closed. My heart
+leapt up as I saw it. Was she there--just on the other side? The salon
+was lighted with shaded electric lamps and furnished and hung entirely
+in white, so that there was that dazzling effect of light I knew she
+always loved. I walked up and down in short quick turns, longing to go
+up to that tantalising door and knock, but holding myself back.
+
+After a moment it opened and she came through it towards me. For one
+second before I rushed forward to clasp her in my arms, I stood to
+gaze at her, and the sweetness, the enchanting glamour of the vision
+was borne in upon me and locked itself into my memory for ever. She
+was in white, some soft white tissue that fell round her closely,
+edged with silver that seemed like moonlight on white clouds, and
+there was a little silver on her shoulders and round the breast that
+seemed like moonlight upon snow. Her fair hair shone in the blaze of
+light, her face raised to mine was pale and smiling, with a wonderful
+lustre in the azure eyes.
+
+She seemed, as ever, the dream, the vision, the ideal, the
+unattainable divinity man's soul continually strives after.
+
+A moment more and she was in my arms. Her physical semblance was mine,
+in which her spirit walked and moved, and I was the owner and
+conqueror of that at least.
+
+"Trevor dear, be gentle!" she murmured in laughing remonstrance, but
+her white arms did not unlock from my neck nor her soft lips move far
+from mine.
+
+"How happy I am now," she said, sinking into my embrace, "and how well
+you look, Trevor, how splendid! So strong and gloriously full of
+life!"
+
+"I wonder I do," I answered, "after this cruel year you gave me. How
+could you leave me as you did while I was asleep beside you, and what
+was your reason? You will have to tell me now."
+
+"I believe you would be happier if I did not, if you just trusted me
+and never asked to know," she answered, smiling back at me. "Are we
+not perfectly happy now? You have me again; look at me, am I just the
+same as when we parted?"
+
+I looked at her intently, eagerly, my eyes drinking in all the perfect
+vision before me, each slim outline of the body, lying back now on the
+couch where we both were sitting, all the delicacy of the transparent
+skin, the smooth white forehead with its fine, straight-drawn
+eyebrows, the lovely eyes searching mine. Yes, I had lost nothing of
+my possession, and there seemed rather something added to that inner
+light and that wonderful look of intellect and power that shone
+through the face.
+
+"I think you are the same," I said slowly, seeking vainly to express
+that indefinable extra light that seemed upon her face.
+
+"Only perhaps more lovely. But tell me what your reason was. I cannot
+bear to think there is a dark gap between us."
+
+"You are so happy at this moment it seems a pity," she murmured
+softly. "You will not feel so happy when you know, and it's all over
+and past and forgotten. It's a thunderstorm that has rolled by and
+left us again in the sunlight. We are in Paradise now, are we not?"
+
+I looked at her, and the triumph of delighted joy I had in her rose up
+to my brain, filling it, making all else seem obscure and of no
+account. Yet something in her words stirred my brain anxiously. Why
+should I mind hearing what she had to say? Was it possible that she
+had acted on her first letter to me, after all, and, while forcing
+freedom on me, taken it also for herself? Was it possible she had lent
+my possession, herself, to another? That blind, insensate jealousy of
+the male in physical matters instantly flamed up through me. In that
+moment of extreme passion for her, of expected triumph and delight, it
+burnt at its most furious pitch. I felt I must _know_, must drag the
+secret out of her, and if it was what I thought in that unreasoning
+moment, I would kill us both.
+
+I threw myself forward on her so that she could not move. "Now tell
+me," I said. "You shall tell me, you promised you would."
+
+Viola looked up at me with a regretful gaze but without any shrinking
+from my savage look and grasp.
+
+"Certainly I will," she said gently; "but you will regret forcing me
+to tell you. Well, I left you, Trevor, because I found I was going to
+be the mother of your child."
+
+"Viola!"
+
+Had she stabbed me in the breast as I leant over her, the shock could
+not have been more great. To me the words seemed to go straight to my
+heart and stop it. I could not speak beyond that one word. For the
+moment I was absolutely stunned, paralysed. I took my hands from her
+arms which I had been holding, rose from the couch mechanically, and
+walked away from her, trying to realise, to understand what she had
+said and its meaning.
+
+This was the fact that stood out most clearly before my disordered
+mental vision: knowing she was going to be in danger, to suffer, she
+had fled from me to bear the burden of it alone. And, next, that I had
+brought that burden and suffering on her. That spirit, so far above
+earthly things, as I always thought her, I had dragged down to know
+the common trials, share the common lot of earthly womanhood. The pain
+of these two ideas, the agony they brought with them to me in those
+moments was something almost unendurable. I felt crushed, absolutely
+ground into the dust before it. I sat down by the table and put both
+hands across my eyes, shutting out her exquisite vision, trying to
+shut out my thoughts. I felt as a religious enthusiast might feel who
+in a moment of drunken madness had outraged a sacred shrine.
+
+Viola was to me, had always been, far more than a wife or a mistress
+is to a man; she was also the Idea to my brain, and what his Idea is
+to an artist an artist alone can know. But it is something he will
+live and die for, and count his heart's blood as nothing beside it.
+That she was a sacred thing, to be protected and guarded from the
+sordid incidents of daily life that she hated, had always been my
+thought. She was an artist, and as such had Art's own penalties to
+pay--the excessive nervous strain it puts upon the body, the long
+weakening tension, the extreme mental and bodily fatigue that
+sometimes accompanies or follows an artist's flight into the Elysian
+fields, from which he brings back those deathless flowers of music,
+verse, song, or colour to plant in the world. It is not fair that such
+a one should have to bear the common ills of life as well as pay those
+penalties.
+
+That had always been my view. Viola was apart from the world, a
+daughter of the gods, not suited for, nor designed for the common
+sufferings of the clay. Love she might know, or rather must know, for
+love is always the handmaiden to Art, but motherhood, no. For those
+thousands and thousands of women who inhabit this world and have no
+divine gifts to bestow maternity is a pleasing and natural
+occupation; for the one amongst those thousands who has heard the
+Divine whisper and walked and conversed with the gods, and who can
+repeat those whispers to mortals, it is a waste of divine energy--a
+sacrilege. For genius is not handed down. It is given to one alone. It
+is not hereditary. For genius accumulated through heredity would at
+last produce a god. And that the jealous gods will not allow.
+Therefore the child of a genius is rarely a genius itself. It is born
+with a veil across its eyes that it may not see divinity and so return
+to the common type.
+
+Knowing all this and feeling it keenly to my heart's core, I had given
+my promise to Viola. A promise, which indeed was part of a religion to
+me, and this was how I had kept it!
+
+The intense humiliation of it all rolled through me, stunning me like
+a physical agony.
+
+I heard her voice speaking gently to me, but I could not understand
+what she said, could not respond.
+
+In memory, I was listening again to her voice when she had come that
+first night to the studio:
+
+"You will not let our love drag us down to earth, will you? Let it
+only inspire us more. We will go to the Elysian fields together to
+gather the amaranth flowers. You will not try to turn me into the
+ordinary married woman. I could not accept those duties and that
+life. I want to live in my music, in the heaven of Ideas, as I do now.
+And to you I want always to be the vision, the dream, the spirit of
+your thoughts: never the wife, the mother, the keeper of the
+household, occupied with worldly matters."
+
+And I had promised with all the rapture and the fervour of one who
+understood and thought her thoughts, and who had always longed to
+escape from the commonplace, the trivial matters of the world, to
+whom, as to her, the deathless amaranth flowers of beauty, of art, of
+Idea, of inspiration were all.
+
+But the promise had been broken. Through me she had known pain,
+suffering, danger, inability to work, anxiety, daily care for months
+and months alone. The exquisite, perfect form I had counted so sacred,
+had suffered the common earthly lot. And through me. My thoughts
+seemed crushing me, grinding me beneath them, but at last her voice
+penetrated to my brain, through its anguish of self-reproach.
+
+"I knew you would feel it so much, dear Trevor, that was why I kept it
+secret from you and went away, but now it is all over and past, you
+must not dwell on it. It is irrevocable. Don't reproach yourself about
+it. Let us be glad we are in Heaven now."
+
+I rose and went over to her and knelt by the couch, raising one of her
+hands to my lips and holding it against me.
+
+"Dear! Dearest one! You went away to endure all that misery alone, so
+that it should not distress me? How wonderfully unselfish you have
+always been to me!"
+
+"Oh, no," she answered quickly, a light colour rising all over her
+face.
+
+"You must not think that. I went away for myself, too. I could not
+bear that you should see me disfigured, spoiled, as you would think. I
+had always been the ideal to you. I could not bear to let you see me
+as an ordinary woman. I was afraid I should lose your passion for me,
+which I value more than anything else in the world. I felt I could
+face everything but that. Terrifying and horrible as it all was to
+meet quite alone, still it was better than feeling I was losing your
+love and desire."
+
+"But you would not have done," I said vehemently; "nothing could make
+any difference to my love for you."
+
+"Not to your love, perhaps, but our passions are not in our own
+control. They rise under certain influences, sink and decline under
+others, and we can do nothing. We must look these things in the face.
+See now, if I were suddenly turned to an old, old woman, withered
+before your eyes, would you feel as you feel now?"
+
+"No," I answered slowly, "I admit old age...."
+
+"Or hopelessly disfigured--my face rendered hideous by burns or
+loathsome with disease? You could not desire me then, I should not
+expect it. Love is unchangeable, but passion is a flame that shivers
+in every transient breeze. We can't help it. It _is_ so. As I look at
+you now I love you for your strength and grace, above all for your
+beautiful form. If you hobbled into the room, bent and lame, I should
+love you still but not as I do now, quite, quite otherwise. And I was
+disfigured, temporarily, I know, but it went on for months and months.
+I was no longer your gay, glad spirit with the radiant wings. I was
+broken, distorted, hideous."
+
+"Don't tell me," I muttered; "I can't bear it." She put one arm round
+my neck and her soft lips on my hair.
+
+"It is over," she whispered. "Do not be sorry, do not reproach
+yourself. It was so much better for you not to know, not to see it. It
+would all have preyed upon you so from day to day. _I_ felt the long
+waiting. It seemed the time would never pass, and each day and night I
+felt so glad to know you were not there, to suffer with me, but away,
+quite out of reach of it all."
+
+"But suppose you had died ... without me."
+
+"The chances were against that. And if I had, it would have still been
+better that you should be away ... for you. I would have come to you
+after death, really a spirit then, and lived ever after in your soul."
+
+I put my arms round her, living, warm, beautiful, in the flesh.
+
+"What a lonely, terrible year for you!" I said. "It never occurred to
+me ... I never dreamed ... and I can't understand now...."
+
+"You remember the night I came back from Lawton's place to you? ...
+You were mad with jealous rage, and I am so little accustomed to
+resist you.... Well, it was my punishment for even thinking I could
+leave you.... At least, I have always accepted it as such."
+
+"I can never, never forgive myself."
+
+"I knew you would take it like that, and now you see I can make you
+soon forget it. If you had felt like this for weeks and months it
+would almost have killed you."
+
+She played with my hair and her lips touched my eyebrows.
+
+
+"Yes," she answered, looking back at me sadly and closely. "Are you
+sorry?"
+
+"No, I am not sorry," I answered savagely.
+
+"I thought you would not be."
+
+"Are you?"
+
+She sighed.
+
+"I hardly know. It was so like you, Trevor, such a very, very
+beautiful boy, exactly like you in miniature. I loved it, of course; I
+could not help it, but it is better as it is, better that it should
+die. We could not foresee how it would grow up, and so many men, the
+majority, are such monsters, such cruel fiends, it is really a crime
+to bring one into the world."
+
+I was silent, thinking over that wonderful devotion and courage she
+had shewn me. Of all the solutions to the problem of her flight from
+me, this had never presented itself to my mind. We are taught both by
+tradition and experience how most women cling to their lover at such a
+time. Though indifferent, even faithless to him in their beauty and
+health, they come to him then for protection, for assistance. For
+their name's sake, to save their conventional honour, they will even
+accept marriage with one they no longer love, or force themselves on
+one they know has no longer love for them.
+
+But how different this one, as always, had been! To preserve inviolate
+the spirit of our love, she had gone forward to meet what must to a
+sensitive nature like hers have been a time of horror and terror,
+absolutely alone, unsupported except by the thought that I was away,
+free, unable to share her misery!
+
+With gifts in both hands she had come to me and laid them all in mine.
+Then, when I had broken my trust and brought distress upon her, when
+she was in need and I could have been the one to give, she had fled
+away from love, from consolation, from any return or reparation.
+Proud, courageous, independent, untamable, as she had always been, she
+was in comparison with other women as a lioness is to a gazelle.
+
+I folded my arms round her tighter at these thoughts, for the lioness
+was mine and I owned her.
+
+Perhaps, after all, it was worth while to suffer that agony of
+self-reproach I had just now, and was suffering still, to see put in
+such shining light before me her courage and her worth.
+
+This was a white night, surely, as the others had been coloured, for
+as white is the blending of all the colours into one, so in this night
+all the emotions of those previous nights were blended. Passion,
+jealousy, triumph, and an agony like death had all swept over me in
+these few short hours, and now from them all, blent together and
+burning as metals in a smelter, rose up the extreme white vivid flame
+of love for her like the white silken tongue of fire, the last degree
+of fiercest heat that the smelter can produce.
+
+I bent over her, looking down into her eyes, deep down into those
+living depths where I seemed to see the rays of an eternal heaven,
+clasping the smooth breast to me, closely, that its passionate
+heart-beats might answer my own, and in our veins burnt that intense
+white flame that melts into itself the glory of the immortal Spirit,
+the wonder of the hereafter, and all the joys of the world.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13017 ***